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 418 my journal, and have thereby broken the continuity of the "thread of my story," and have lost the vivid recollection, of many little circumstances which I would gladly have retained. I can do no more now than try to pick up some dropped stitches, so as to fasten them, and prevent the whole work from running irrecoverably. I suppose it is a stocking that has furnished this illustrative metaphor; and this goes to show that Penelope's web must have been made by knitting, as she could so easily undo by night the work which she did in the day. I have forgotten the public events. I believe I mentioned the return of the Beagle, without any success in the discovery of anything important, but leaving still 200 miles of coast unexamined. By the bye, we have rumours here of some large lake discovered to the North of Spencer's Gulf, in such a direction and in such a country as to produce an impression on the mind of Mr. Eyre, the explorer, that a connection between Spencer's Gulf and the Gulf of Carpentaria did once exist. We shall know more of this presently, for he is gone to explore that part of the country, having had a flag presented to him which he was to erect on the central spot of Australia. This news we received by the Lady Emma, from Hobart Town, with stock. By her I have at last received a few letters which were sent in the unfortunate Black Swan. They are dated nearly two years ago, and are (some of them) productive of a very melancholy pleasure.

I have been twice over at Rottnest Island to examine and report upon the prisoners there. Three died there lately; one was poisoned by eating a "blow fish." I lost a fine young cow lately from a hurt given by some other cows. I have had a fine filly foal from a thoroughbred horse and a very good mare. I sold one horse to Government for £68.

Nov. 19th.—The Shepherd at last has arrived. She seems to have outrun the Heroine, which must have left London before her, as my goods (I find by a duplicate letter from Messrs. Luckie) are in the Heroine, and I suppose all letters