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Tuesday, 28th October, Mount Hay. Started in the cool of the morning, and in two hours reached where the party were camped, so much exhausted and so completely done up that I could not speak a word--the power of speech has completely left me. I was lifted from the saddle and placed under the shade of a mulga bush. In about ten minutes I recovered my speech. I find that I can no longer sit on horseback; gave orders for some of the party to make a sort of reclining seat, to be carried between two horses, one before the other; also gave orders that a horse was to be shot at sundown, as we are getting rather short of meat, and I hope the change of beef tea made from fresh meat will give me some increase of strength, for I am now reduced to a perfect skeleton, a mere shadow. At sundown had the horse shot; fresh meat to the party is now a great treat. I am denied participating in that pleasure, from the dreadful state in which my mouth still is. I can chew nothing, and all that I have been living on is a little beef tea, and a little boiled flour, which I am obliged to swallow. To-night I feel very ill, and very, very low indeed. Wind, south-east, with a few clouds.