On the 5th they came to a well-grassed valley, with a fine river running through it, which they named the Archer.

On the 9th they crossed another river, which they supposed to be the one named the Coen on the seaward side.

But once across this river, troubles gathered thick again; the rain poured down constantly, the country became so boggy that they could scarcely travel, and to crown all their misfortunes, two horses were drowned when crossing the Batavia, and six others were poisoned and died there.
Fate seemed now to have done her worst, and the explorers faced the future manfully.

Burying all that they could dispense with, they packed all their remaining horses and started resolutely to finish the journey on foot.

On the 14th two more of their horses died, and the blacks once more came up behind to reconnoitre.