Robinson was alive and quite well, and the little dog was overjoyed to greet us.

Robinson reported that natives had been frequently in the neighbourhood, and had lit fires close to the camp, but would not show themselves.
Marzetti's mare had foaled, the progeny being a daughter; the horse that was staked was worse, and I found my old horse had also ran a mulga stake into his coronet.

I probed the wounds of both, but could not get any wood out.

Carmichael and I both thought we would like a day's rest; and if I did not do much work, at least I thought a good deal.
The lame horses are worse: the poisonous mulga must be in the wounds, but I can't get it out.

What a pleasure it is, not only to have plenty of water to drink, but actually to have sufficient for a bath! I told Robinson of my views regarding him, but said he must yet remain until some eastern waters could be found.