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November 6. — Having had the horses watched last night we were enabled to move away early, and about noon arrived at the place I had appointed Mr. Germain to land the cask of water: it was all ready, and we watered the horses, took luncheon and moved on again, directing Mr. Germain to proceed to Smoky Bay, and land water for us again there. The country we passed through to-day was low, level, and sandy, and covered with prickly grass, with a few tea-tree swamps, but no fresh water. The shore of Streaky Bay on its western side was bounded by high steep sandy hummocks, behind which we travelled, and at night halted on the borders of a dense scrub, nearly opposite the middle of the bay, after a stage of about eighteen miles. Our vicinity to the sea enabled Mr. Scott, myself, and the native boys to enjoy a swim, a luxury highly appreciated by a traveller after a day’s hard work, amidst heat and dust, and one which I anticipated we should frequently obtain in our course to the westward.