Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia — Volume 2

TWO EXPEDITIONS INTO THE INTERIOR
OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA,
VOLUME II

by

Charles Sturt

TWO EXPEDITIONS INTO THE INTERIOR OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA DURING THE
YEARS 1828, 1829, 1830, 1831 WITH OBSERVATIONS ON THE SOIL, CLIMATE AND
GENERAL RESOURCES OF THE COLONY OF NEW SOUTH WALES.
IN TWO VOLUMES

VOLUME II.

"For though most men are contented only to see a river as it runs by them, and talk of the changes in it as they happen; when it is troubled, or when clear; when it drowns the country in a flood, or forsakes it in a drought: yet he that would know the nature of the water, and the causes of those accidents (so as to guess at their continuance or return), must find out its source, and observe with what strength it rises, what length it runs, and how many small streams fall in, and feed it to such a height, as make it either delightful or terrible to the eye, and useful or dangerous to the country about it."...SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE'S NETHERLANDS.

CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME

EXPEDITION DOWN THE MORUMBIDGEE AND MURRAY RIVERS,
IN 1829, 1830 AND 1831.

[CHAPTER I.]

Introductory—Remarks on the results of the former Expedition—The fitting out of another determined on—Its objects—Provisions, accoutrements, and retinue—Paper furnished by Mr. Kent—Causes that have prevented the earlier appearance of the present work.

[CHAPTER II.]

Commencement of the expedition in November, 1829.—Joined by Mr. George M'Leay—Appearance of the party—Breadalbane Plains—Hospitality of Mr. O'Brien—Yass Plains—Hill of Pouni—Path of a hurricane—Character of the country between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee—Appearance of that river—Junction of the Dumot with it—Crossing and recrossing—Geological character and general aspect of the country—Plain of Pondebadgery—Few natives seen.

[CHAPTER III.]

Character of the Morumbidgee where it issues from the hilly country—Appearance of approach to swamps—Hamilton Plains—Intercourse with the natives—Their appearance, customs, &c.—Change in the character of the river—Mirage—Dreariness of the country—Ride towards the Lachlan river—Two boats built and launched on the Morumbidgee; and the drays, with part of the men sent back to Goulburn Plains.

[CHAPTER IV.]

Embarkation of the party in the boats, and voyage down the Morumbidgee—The skiff swamped by striking on a sunken tree—Recovery of boat and its loading—Region of reeds—Dangers of the navigation—Contraction of the channel—Reach the junction of a large river—Intercourse with the natives on its banks—Character of the country below the junction of the rivers—Descent of a dangerous rapid—Warlike demonstrations of a tribe of natives—Unexpected deliverance from a conflict with them—Junction of another river—Give the name of the "Murray" to the principal stream.

[CHAPTER V.]

Character of the country—Damage of provisions—Adroitness of the natives in catching fish—The skiff broken up—Stream from the North-East supposed to be the Darling—Change of country in descending the river—Intercourse with the natives—Prevalence of loathsome diseases among them—Apparent populousness of the country—Junction of several small streams—The Rufus, the Lindesay, &c.—Rainy and tempestuous weather—Curious appearance of the banks—Troublesomeness of the natives—Inhospitable and desolate aspect of the country—Condition of the men—Change in the geological character of the country—The river passes through a valley among hills.

[CHAPTER VI.]

Improvement in the aspect of the country—Increase of the river—Strong westerly gales—Chronometer broken—A healthier tribe of natives—Termination of the Murray in a large lake—Its extent and environs—Passage across it—Hostile appearance of the natives—Beautiful scenery—Channel from the lake to the sea at Encounter Bay—Reach the beach—Large flocks of water fowl—Curious refraction—State of provisions—Embarrassing situation—Inspection of the channel to the ocean—Weak condition of the men—Difficulties of the return.

[CHAPTER VII.]

Valley of the Murray—Its character and capabilities—Laborious progress up the river—Accident to the boat—Perilous collision with the natives—Turbid current of the Rufus—Passage of the Rapids—Assisted by the natives—Dangerous intercourse with them—Re-enter the Morumbidgee—Verdant condition of its banks—Nocturnal encounter with the natives—Interesting manifestation of feeling in one family—Reach the spot where the party had embarked on the river—Men begin to fail entirely—Determine to send two men forward for relief—Their return—Excursion on horseback—Reach Pondebadgery Plain, and meet the supplies from the colony—Cannibalism of the natives—Return to Sydney—Concluding remarks.

[CHAPTER VIII.]

Environs of the lake Alexandrina—Appointment of Capt. Barker to make a further survey of the coast near Encounter Bay—Narrative of his proceedings—Mount Lofty, Mount Barker, and beautiful country adjacent—Australian salmon—Survey of the coast—Outlet of lake to the sea—Circumstances that led to the slaughter of Capt. Barker by the natives—His character—Features of this part of the country and capabilities of its coasts—Its adaptation for colonization—Suggestions for the furtherance of future Expeditions.

APPENDIX.

No. I. [Geological Specimens found to the south-west of Port Jackson]
No. II. [Official Report to the Colonial Government]

ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE SECOND VOLUME

(Not included in this etext)

View on the Morumbidgee River
Junction of the supposed Darling with the Murray
Palaeornis Melanura, or Black Tailed Paroquet
Pomatorhinus Temporalis
Pomatorhinus Superciliosus
Chart of Cape Jervis, and Encounter Bay
Mass of Fossils of the Tertiary Formation
Bulla
Conus
Genus Unknown
Chrystallized Selenite
Selenite
Single Fossils of the Tertiary Formation

EXPEDITION DOWN THE MORUMBIDGEE AND MURRAY RIVERS,
IN 1829, 1830 AND 1831.

CHAPTER I.

Introductory

Remarks on the results of the former Expedition—The fitting out of another determined on—Its objects—Provisions, accoutrements, and retinue—Paper furnished by Mr. Kent—Causes that have prevented the earlier appearance of the present work.

OBJECTS OF THE EXPEDITION.

The expedition of which we have just detailed the proceedings was so far satisfactory in its results, that it not only set at rest the hypothesis of the existence of an internal shoal sea in southern Australia, and ascertained the actual termination of the rivers it had been directed to trace, but also added very largely to our knowledge of the country considerably to the westward of former discoveries. And although no land had been traversed of a fertile description of sufficient extent to invite the settler, the fact of a large river such as the Darling lying at the back of our almost intertropical settlements, gave a fresh importance to the distant interior. It was evident that this river was the chief drain for carrying off the waters falling westerly from the eastern coast, and as its course indicated a decline of country diametrically opposite to that which had been calculated upon, it became an object of great importance to ascertain its further direction. Had not the saline quality of its waters been accounted for, by the known existence of brine springs in its bed, it would have been natural to have supposed that it communicated with some mediterranean sea; but, under existing circumstances, it remained to be proved whether this river held on a due south course, or whether it ultimately turned westerly, and ran into the heart of the interior. In order fully to determine this point, it would be necessary to regain it banks, so far below the parallel to which it had been traced as to leave no doubt of its identity; but it was difficult to fix upon a plan for approaching that central stream without suffering from the want of water, since it could hardly be expected that the Lachlan would afford such means, as it was reasonable to presume that its termination was very similar to that of the Macquarie. The attention of the government was, consequently, fixed upon the Morumbidgee, a river stated to be of considerable size and of impetuous current. Receiving its supplies from the lofty ranges behind Mount Dromedary, it promised to hold a longer course than those rivers which, depending on periodical rains alone for existence, had been found so soon to exhaust themselves.

PREPARATIONS.

The fitting out of another expedition was accordingly determined upon; and about the end of September 1829, I received the Governor's instructions to make the necessary preparations for a second descent into the interior, for the purpose of tracing the Morumbidgee, or such rivers as it might prove to be connected with, as far as practicable. In the event of failure in this object, it was hoped that an attempt to regain the banks of the Darling on a N.W. course from the point at which the expedition might be thwarted in its primary views, would not be unattended with success. Under any circumstances, however, by pursuing these measures, an important part of the colony would necessarily be traversed, of which the features were as yet altogether unknown.

It became my interest and my object to make the expedition as complete as possible, and, as far as in me lay, to provide for every contingency: and as it appeared to me that, in all likelihood, we should in one stage or other of our journey have to trust entirely to water conveyance, I determined on taking a whale-boat, whose dimensions and strength should in some measure be proportioned to the service required. I likewise constructed a small still for the distillation of water, in the event of our finding the water of the Darling salt, when we should reach its banks. The whale-boat, after being fitted, was taken to pieces for more convenient carriage, as has been more particularly detailed in the last chapter of the preceding volume.

So little danger had been apprehended from the natives in the former journey, that three firelocks had been considered sufficient for our defence. On the present occasion, however, I thought it adviseable to provide arms for each individual.

Mr. Hume declined accompanying me, as the harvest was at hand. Mr. George M'Leay therefore supplied his place, rather as a companion than as an assistant; and of those who accompanied me down the banks of the Macquarie, I again selected Harris (my body servant), Hopkinson, and Fraser.

MR. KENT'S REPORT.

The concluding chapter of this volume, relative to the promontory of St. Vincent, or Cape Jervis, has been furnished me by the kindness of Mr. Kent, who accompanied the lamented officer to whom the further exploration of that part of coast unhappily proved fatal. There is a melancholy coincidence between Captain Barker's death and that of Captain Cook, which cannot fail to interest the public, as the information that has been furnished will call for their serious consideration. I shall leave for their proper place, the remarks I have to offer upon it, since my motive in these prefatory observations has been, to carry the reader forward to that point at which he will have to view the proceedings of the expedition alone, in order the more satisfactorily to arrive at their results. And, although he must expect a considerable portion of dry reading in the following pages, I have endeavoured to make the narrative of events, some of which are remarkably striking, as interesting as possible.

REMARKS ON THE PRESENT WORK; DELIVERANCE FROM DANGERS.

It only remains for me to refer the reader to the concluding chapter of the preceding volume, for such general information as I have been enabled to furnish upon the nature of the services on which I was employed, and on the manner of conducting similar expeditions. Indeed, I trust that this book (whatever be its defects) will be found to contain much valuable information of a practical character, and I may venture to affirm, that it will give a true description of the country, and of the various other subjects of which it treats.

Notwithstanding that I have in my dedication alluded to the causes that prevented the earlier appearance of this work, I feel it due both to myself and the public here to state, that during these expeditions my health had suffered so much, that I was unable to bear up against the effects of exposure, bodily labour, poverty of diet, and the anxiety of mind to which I was subjected. A residence on Norfolk Island, under peculiarly harassing circumstances, completed that which the above causes had commenced; and, after a succession of attacks, I became totally blind, and am still unable either to read what I pen, or to venture abroad without an attendant. When it is recollected, that I have been unassisted in this work in any one particular, I hope some excuse will be found for its imperfections. A wish to contribute to the public good led me to undertake those journeys which have cost me so much. The same feeling actuates me in recording their results; and I have the satisfaction to know, that my path among a large and savage population was a bloodless one; and that my intercourse with them was such as to lessen the danger to future adventurers upon such hazardous enterprises, and to give them hope where I had so often despaired. Something more powerful, than human foresight or human prudence, appeared to avert the calamities and dangers with which I and my companions were so frequently threatened; and had it not been for the guidance and protection we received from the Providence of that good and all-wise Being to whose care we committed ourselves, we should, ere this, have ceased to rank among the number of His earthly creatures.

CHAPTER II.

Commencement of the expedition in November, 1829.—Joined by Mr. George M'Leay—Appearance of the party—Breadalbane Plains—Hospitality of Mr. O'Brien—Yass Plains—Hill of Pouni—Path of a hurricane—Character of the country between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee—Appearance of that river—Junction of the Dumot with it—Crossing and recrossing—Geological character and general aspect of the country—Plain of Pondebadgery—Few natives seen.

The expedition which traversed the marshes of the Macquarie, left Sydney on the 10th day of Nov. 1828. That destined to follow the waters of the Morumbidgee, took its departure from the same capital on the 3rd of the same month in the ensuing year. Rain had fallen in the interval, but not in such quantities as to lead to the apprehension that it had either influenced or swollen the western streams. It was rather expected that the winter falls would facilitate the progress of the expedition, and it was hoped that, as the field of its operations would in all probability be considerably to the south of the parallel of Port Jackson, the extreme heat to which the party and the animals had been exposed on the former journey, would be less felt on the present occasion.

As there was no Government establishment to the S.W. at which I could effect any repairs, or recruit my supplies, as I had done at Wellington Valley, the expedition, when it left Sydney, was completed in every branch, and was so fully provided with every necessary implement and comfort, as to render any further aid, even had such been attainable, in a great measure unnecessary. The Governor had watched over my preparations with a degree of anxiety that evidenced the interest he felt in the expedition, and his arrangements to ensure, as far as practicable, our being met on our return, in the event of our being in distress, were equally provident and satisfactory. It was not, however, to the providing for our wants in the interior alone that His Excellency's views were directed, but orders were given to hold a vessel in readiness, to be dispatched at a given time to St. Vincent's Gulf, in case we should ultimately succeed in making the south coast in its neighbourhood.

LEAVE SYDNEY.

The morning on which I left Sydney a second time, under such doubtful circumstances, was perfectly serene and clear. I found myself at 5 a.m. of that delightful morning leading my horses through the gates of those barracks whose precincts I might never again enter, and whose inmates I might never again behold assembled in military array. Yet, although the chance of misfortune flashed across my mind, I was never lighter at heart, or more joyous in spirit. It appeared to me that the stillness and harmony of nature influenced my feelings on the occasion, and my mind forgot the storms of life, as nature at that moment seemed to have forgotten the tempests that sometimes agitate her.

APPEARANCE OF THE PARTY.

I proceeded direct to the house of my friend Mr. J. Deas Thomson, who had agreed to accompany me to Brownlow Hill, a property belonging to Mr. M'Leay, the Colonial Secretary, where his son, Mr. George M'Leay, was to join the expedition. As soon as we had taken a hasty breakfast, I went to the carters' barracks to superintend the first loading of the animals. Mr. Murray, the superintendent, had arranged every article so well, and had loaded the drays so compactly that I had no trouble, and little time was lost in saddling the pack animals. At a quarter before 7 the party filed through the turnpike-gate, and thus commenced its journey with the greatest regularity. I have the scene, even at this distance of time, vividly impressed upon my mind, and I have no doubt the kind friend who was near me on the occasion, bears it as strongly on his recollection. My servant Harris, who had shared my wanderings and had continued in my service for eighteen years, led the advance, with his companion Hopkinson. Nearly abreast of them the eccentric Fraser stalked along wholly lost in thought. The two former had laid aside their military habits, and had substituted the broad brimmed hat and the bushman's dress in their place, but it was impossible to guess how Fraser intended to protect himself from the heat or the damp, so little were his habiliments suited for the occasion. He had his gun over his shoulder, and his double shot belt as full as it could be of shot, although there was not a chance of his expending a grain during the day. Some dogs Mr. Maxwell had kindly sent me followed close at his heels, as if they knew his interest in them, and they really seemed as if they were aware that they were about to exchange their late confinement for the freedom of the woods. The whole of these formed a kind of advanced guard. At some distance in the rear the drays moved slowly along, on one of which rode the black boy mentioned in my former volume, and behind them followed the pack animals. Robert Harris, whom I had appointed to superintend the animals generally, kept his place near the horses, and the heavy Clayton, my carpenter, brought up the rear. I shall not forget the interest Thomson appeared to take in a scene that must certainly have been new to him. Our progress was not checked by the occurrence of a single accident, nor did I think it necessary to remain with the men after we had gained that turn which, at about four miles from Sydney, branches off to the left, and leads direct to Liverpool. From this Point my companion and I pushed forward, in order to terminate a fifty miles' ride a little sooner than we should have done at the leisurely pace we had kept during the early part of our journey. We remained in Liverpool for a short time, to prepare the commissariat office for the reception, and to ensure the accommodation, of the party; and reached Brownlow Hill a little after sunset.

LIVERPOOL-GOULBURN PLAINS.

As I have already described the country on this line of road as far us Goulburn Plains, it will not be considered necessary that I should again notice its features with minuteness.

WALLANDILLY-TYRANNA.

The party arrived at Glendarewel, the farm attached to Brownlow Hill, on the 5th. I resumed my journey alone on the 8th. M'Leay had still some few arrangements to make, so that I dispensed with his immediate attendance. He overtook me, however, sooner than I expected, on the banks of the Wallandilly. I had encamped under the bluff end of Cookbundoon, and, having been disappointed in getting bearings when crossing the Razor Back, I hoped that I should be enabled to connect a triangle from the summit of Cookbundoon, or to secure bearings of some prominent hill to the south. I found the brush, however, so thick on the top of the mountain, that I could obtain no satisfactory view, and and M'Leay, who accompanied me, agreed with me in considering that we were but ill repaid for the hot scramble we had had. Crossing the western extremity of Goulburn Plains on the 15th, we encamped on a chain of ponds behind Doctor Gibson's residence at Tyranna, and as I had some arrangements to make with that gentleman, I determined to give both the men and animals a day's rest. I availed myself of Doctor Gibson's magazines to replace such of my provisions as I had expended, as I found that I could do so without putting him to any inconvenience; and I added two of his men to the party, intending to send them back, in case of necessity, or, when we should have arrived at that point from which it might appear expedient to forward an account of my progress and ultimate views, for the governor's information.

On the 17th we struck the tents, and, crossing the chain of ponds near which they had been pitched, entered a forest track, that gave place to barren stony ridges of quartz formation. These continued for six or seven miles, in the direction of Breadalbane Plains, upon which we were obliged to stop, as we should have had some difficulty in procuring either water or food, within any moderate distance beyond them. The water, indeed, that we were obliged to content ourselves with was by no means good. Breadalbane Plains are of inconsiderable extent, and are surrounded by ridges, the appearance of which is not very promising. Large white masses of quartz rock lie scattered over them, amongst trees of stunted growth. Mr. Redall's farm was visible at the further extremity of the plains from that by which we had entered them. It would appear that these plains are connected with Goulburn Plains by a narrow valley, that was too wet for the drays to have traversed.

BREADALBANE PLAINS.

Doctor Gibson had kindly accompanied us to Breadalbane Plains. On the morning of the 18th he returned to Tyranna, and we pursued our journey, keeping mostly on a W.S.W. course. From the barren hills over which we passed, on leaving the plains, we descended upon an undulating country, and found a change of rock, as well as of vegetation, upon it. Granite and porphyry constituted its base. An open forest, on which the eucalyptus mannifera alone prevailed, lay on either side of us, and although the soil was coarse, and partook in a great measure of the decomposition of the rock it covered, there was no deficiency of grass. On the contrary, this part of the interior is decidedly well adapted for pasturing cattle.

THE LORN.

About 1 p.m. we passed Mr. Hume's station, with whom I remained for a short time. He had fixed his establishment on the banks of the Lorn, a small river, issuing from the broken country near Lake George, and now ascertained to be one of the largest branches of the Lachlan River. We had descended a barren pass of stringy bark scrub, on sandstone rock, a little before we reached Mr. Hume's station, but around it the same, open forest tract again prevailed. We crossed the Lorn, at 2 o'clock, leaving Mr. Broughton's farm upon our left, and passed through a broken country, which was very far from being deficient in pasture. We encamped on the side of a water-course, about 4 o'clock, having travelled about fifteen miles.

On the 19th, we observed no change in the soil or aspect of the country, for the first five miles. The eucalyptus mannifera was the most prevalent of the forest trees, and certainly its presence indicated a more flourishing state in the minor vegetation. At about five miles, however, from where we had slept, sandstone reappeared, and with it the barren scrub that usually grows upon a sandy and inhospitable soil. One of the drays was upset in its progress down a broken pass, where the road had been altogether neglected, and it was difficult to avoid accidents. Fortunately we suffered no further than in the delay that the necessity of unloading the dray, and reloading it, occasioned. Mr. O'Brien, an enterprising settler, who had pushed his flocks to the banks of the Morumbidgee, and who was proceeding to visit his several stations, overtook us in the midst of our troubles. We had already passed each other frequently on the road, but he now preceded me to his establishment at Yass; at which I proposed remaining for a day. We stopped about three miles short of the plains for the night, at the gorge of the pass through which we had latterly been advancing, and had gradually descended to a more open country. From the place at which we were temporarily delayed, and which is not inappropriately called the Devil's Pass, the road winds about between ranges, differing in every respect from any we had as yet noticed. The sides of the hills were steeper, and their summits sharper, than any we had crossed. They were thickly covered with eucalypti and brush, and, though based upon sandstone, were themselves of a schistose formation.

YASS PLAINS.

Yharr or Yass Plains were discovered by Mr. Hovel, and Mr. Hume, the companion of my journey down the Macquarie, in 1828. They take their name from the little river that flows along their north and north-west boundaries. They are surrounded on every side by forests, and excepting to the W.N.W., as a central point, by hill. Undulating, but naked themselves, they have the appearance of open downs, and are most admirably adapted for sheep-walks, not only in point of vegetation, but also, because their inequalities prevent their becoming swampy during the rainy season. They are from nine to twelve miles in length, and from five to seven in breadth, and although large masses of sandstone are scattered over them, a blue secondary limestone composes the general bed of the river, that was darker in colour and more compact than I had remarked the same kind of rock, either at Wellington Valley, or in the Shoal Haven Gully. I have no doubt that Yass Plains will ere long be wholly taken up as sheep-walks, and that their value to the grazier will in a great measure counterbalance its distance from the coast, or, more properly speaking, from the capital. Sheep I should imagine would thrive uncommonly well upon these plains, and would suffer less from distempers incidental to locality and to climate, than in many parts of the colony over which they are now wandering in thousands. And if the plains themselves do not afford extensive arable tracts, there is, at least, sufficient good land near the river to supply the wants of a numerous body of settlers.

HOSPITALITY OF MR. O'BRIEN.

We left Mr. O'Brien's station on the morning of the 21st, and, agreeably to his advice, determined on gaining the Morumbidgee, by a circuit to the N.W., rather than endanger the safety of the drays by entering the mountain passes to the westward. Mr. O'Brien, however, would not permit us to depart from his dwelling without taking away with us some further proofs of his hospitality. The party had pushed forward before I, or Mr. M'Leay, had mounted our horses; but on overtaking it, we found that eight fine wethers had been added to our stock of animals.

HILL OF POUNI; ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY.

To the W.N.W. of Yass Plains there is a remarkable hill, called Pouni, remarkable not so much on account of its height, as of its commanding position. It had, I believe, already been ascended by one of the Surveyor-general's assistants. The impracticability of the country to the south of it, obliged us to pass under its opposite base, from which an open forest country extended to the northward. We had already recrossed the Yass River, and passed Mr. Barber's station, to that of Mr. Hume's father, at which we stopped for a short time. Both farms are well situated, the latter I should say, romantically so, it being immediately under Pouni, the hill we have noticed. The country around both was open, and both pasture and water were abundant.

Mr. O'Brien had been kind enough to send one of the natives who frequented his station to escort us to his more advanced station upon the Morumbidgee. Had it not been for the assistance we received from this man, I should have had but little leisure for other duties: as it was however, there was no fear of the party going astray. This gave M'Leay and myself an opportunity of ascending Pouni, for the purpose of taking bearings; and how ever warm the exertion of the ascent made us, the view from the summit of the hill sufficiently repaid us, and the cool breeze that struck it, although imperceptible in the forest below, soon dried the perspiration from our brows. The scenery around us was certainly varied, yet many parts of it put me forcibly in mind of the dark and gloomy tracks over which my eye had wandered from similar elevations on the former journey. This was especially the case in looking to the north, towards which point the hills forming the right of the valley by which we had entered the plains, decreased so rapidly in height that they were lost in the general equality of the more remote country, almost ere they had reached abreast of my position. From E.S.E. to W.S.W. the face of the country was hilly, broken and irregular; forming deep ravines and precipitous glens, amid which I was well aware the Morumbidgee was still struggling for freedom; while mountains succeeded mountains in the back-ground, and were themselves overtopped by lofty and very distant peaks. To the eastward, however, the hills wore a more regular form, and were lightly covered with wood. The plains occupied the space between them and Pouni; and a smaller plain bore N.N.E. which, being embosomed in the forest, had hitherto escaped our notice.

We overtook the party just as it cleared the open ground through which it had previously been moving. A barren scrub succeeded it for about eight miles. The soil in this scrub was light and sandy.

We stopped for the night at the head of a valley that seemed to have been well trodden by cattle. The feed, therefore, was not abundant, nor was the water good. We had, however, made a very fair journey, and I was unwilling to press the animals. But in consequence, I fancy, of the scarcity of food, they managed to creep away during the night, with the exception of three or four of the bullocks, nor should we have collected them again so soon as we did, or without infinite trouble, had it not been for our guide and my black boy. We unavoidably lost a day, but left our position on the 23rd, for Underaliga, a station occupied by Doctor Harris, the gentleman I have already had occasion to mention. We reached the banks of the creek near the stock hut, about 4 p.m., having journeyed during the greater part of the day through a poor country, partly of scrub and partly of open forest-land, in neither of which was the soil or vegetation fresh or abundant. At about three miles from Underaliga, the country entirely changed its character, and its flatness was succeeded by a broken and undulating surface. The soil upon the hills was coarse and sandy, from the decomposition of the granite rock that constituted their base. Nevertheless, the grass was abundant on the hills, though the roots or tufts were far apart; and the hills were lightly studded with trees.

COURSE OF A HURRICANE.

In the course of the day we crossed the line of a hurricane that had just swept with resistless force over the country, preserving a due north course, and which we had heard from a distance, fortunately too great to admit of its injuring us. It had opened a fearful gap in the forest through which it had passed, of about a quarter of a mile in breadth. Within that space, no tree had been able to withstand its fury, for it had wrenched every bough from such as it had failed to prostrate, and they stood naked in the midst of the surrounding wreck. I am inclined to think that the rudeness of nature itself in these wild and uninhabited regions, gives birth to these terrific phenomena. They have never occurred, so far as I know, in the located districts. Our guide deserted us in the early part of the day without assigning any reason for doing so. He went off without being noticed, and thus lost the reward that would have been bestowed on him had he mentioned his wish to return to Yass. I the more regretted his having sneaked off, because he had had the kindness to put us on a track we could not well lose.

COUNTRY FROM UNDERALIGA TO MORUMBIDGEE.

Underaliga, is said to be thirty miles from the Morumbidgee. The country between the two has a sameness of character throughout. It is broken and irregular, yet no one hill rises conspicuously over the rest. We found ourselves at one time on their summits beside huge masses of granite, at others crossing valleys of rich soil and green appearance. A country under cultivation is so widely different from one the sod of which has never been broken by the plough, that it is difficult and hazardous to form a decided opinion on the latter. If you ask a stockman what kind of a country lies, either to his right, or to his left, he is sure to condemn it, unless it will afford the most abundant pasture. Accustomed to roam about from one place to another, these men despise any but the richest tracts, and include the rest of the neighbourhood in one sweeping clause of condemnation. Thus I was led to expect, that we should pass over a country of the very worst description, between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee. Had it been similar to that midway between Yass and Underaliga, we should, in truth, have found it so; but it struck me, that there were many rich tracts of ground among the valleys of the former, and that the very hills had a fair covering of grass upon them. What though the soil was coarse, if the vegetation was good and sufficient? Perhaps the greatest drawback to this part of the interior is the want of water; yet we crossed several creeks, and remarked some deep water holes, that can never be exhausted, even in the driest season. Wherever the situation favoured our obtaining a view of the country on either side of us, while among these hills, we found that to the eastward lofty and mountainous; whilst that to the westward, had the appearance of fast sinking into a level.

JUGGIONG.

A short time before we reached the Morumbidgee, we forded a creek, which we crossed a second time where it falls into the river. After crossing it the first time we opened a flat, on which the marks of sheep were abundant. In the distance there was a small hill, and on its top a bark hut. We were not until then aware of our being so near the river, but as Mr. O'Brien had informed me that he had a station for sheep, at a place called Juggiong, by the natives, on the immediate banks of the river, I did not doubt that we had, at length, arrived at it. And so it proved. I went to the hut, to ascertain where I could conveniently stop for the night, but the residents were absent. I could not but admire the position they had taken up. The hill upon which their hut was erected was not more than fifty feet high, but it immediately overlooked the river, and commanded not only the flat we had traversed in approaching it, but also a second flat on the opposite side. The Morumbidgee came down to the foot of this little hill from the south, and, of course, running to the north, which latter direction it suddenly takes up from a previous S.W. one, on meeting some hills that check its direct course. From the hill on which the hut stands, it runs away westward, almost in a direct line, for three miles, so that the position commands a view of both the reaches, which are overhung by the casuarina and flooded-gum. Rich alluvial flats lie to the right of the stream, backed by moderate hills, that were lightly studded with trees, and clothed with verdure to their summits. Some moderate elevations also backed a flat, on the left bank of the river, but the colour of the soil upon the latter, as well as its depressed situation, showed clearly that it was subject to flood, and had received the worst of the depositions from the mountains. The hills behind it were also bare, and of a light red colour, betraying, as I imagined, a distinct formation from, and poorer character than, the hills behind us. At about three miles the river again suddenly changes its direction from west to south, for about a mile, when it inclines to the S.E. until it nearly encircles the opposite hills, when it assumes its proper direction, and flows away to the S.W.

CROSS THE UNDERALIGA; REACH THE MORUMBIDGEE.

We crossed the Underaliga creek a little below the stock hut, and encamped about a mile beyond it, in the centre of a long plain. We were surrounded on every side by hills, from which there was no visible outlet, as they appeared to follow the bend of the river, with an even and unbroken outline. The scenery around us was wild, romantic, and beautiful; as beautiful as a rich and glowing sunset in the most delightful climate under the heavens could make it. I had been more anxious to gain the banks of the Morumbidgee on this occasion, than I had been on a former one to gain those of the Macquarie, for although I could not hope to see the Morumbidgee all that it had been described to me, yet I felt that on its first appearance I should in some measure ground my anticipations of ultimate success. When I arrived on the banks of the Macquarie, it had almost ceased to flow, and its current was so gentle as to be scarcely perceptible. Instead, however, of a river in such a state of exhaustion, I now looked down upon a stream, whose current it would have been difficult to breast, and whose waters, foaming among rocks, or circling in eddies, gave early promise of a reckless course. It must have been somewhat below its ordinary level, and averaged a breadth of about 80 feet. Its waters were hard and transparent, and its bed was composed of mountain debris, and large fragments of rock. As soon as the morning dawned, the tents were struck and we pursued our journey. We followed the line of the river, until we found ourselves in a deep bight to the S.E. The hills that had been gradually closing in upon the river, now approached it so nearly, that there was no room for the passage of the drays. We were consequently obliged to turn back, and, moving along the base of the ranges, by which we were thus apparently enclosed, we at length found a steep pass, the extreme narrowness of which had hidden it from our observation. By this pass we were now enabled to effect our escape. On gaining the summit of the hills, we travelled south for three or four miles, through open forests, and on level ground. But we ultimately descended into a valley in which we halted for the night. On a closer examination of the neighbourhood, it appeared that our position was at the immediate junction of two valleys, where, uniting the waters of their respective creeks, the main branch declines rapidly towards the river. One of these valleys extended to to the S.W., the other to the W.N.W. It was evident to us that our route lay up the former; and I made no doubt we should easily reach Whaby's station on the morrow.

ADJACENT COUNTRY.

We were now far beyond the acknowledged limits of the located parts of the colony, and Mr. Whaby's station was the last at which we could expect even the casual supply of milk or other trifling relief. Yet, although the prospect of so soon leaving even the outskirts of civilization, and being wholly thrown on our own resources, was so near, it never for a moment weighed upon the minds of the men. The novelty of the scenery, and the beauty of the river on which they were journeying, excited in them the liveliest anticipations of success. The facility with which we had hitherto pushed forward blinded them to future difficulties, nor could there be a more cheerful spectacle than that which the camp daily afforded. The animals browzing in the distance, and the men talking over their pipes of the probable adventures they might encounter. The loads had by this time settled properly, and our provisions proved of the very best quality, so that no possible improvement could have been made for the better.

WHABY'S STATION.

On the morrow we pushed up the southernmost of the valleys, at the junction of which we had encamped, having moderate hills on either side of us. At the head of the valley we crossed a small dividing range into another valley, and halted for the night, on the banks of a creek from the westward, as we found it impossible to reach Whaby's station, as we had intended, before sunset. Nothing could exceed the luxuriance of the vegetation in this valley, but the water of the creek was so impregnated with iron, as to be almost useless. Being anxious to obtain a view of the surrounding country, I ascended a hill behind the camp, just as the sun was sinking, a time the most favourable for the object I had in view. The country, broken into hill and dale, seemed richer than any tract I had as yet surveyed; and the beauty of the near landscape was greatly heightened by the mountainous scenery to the S. and S.E. Both the laxmania, and zanthorea were growing around me; but neither appeared to be in congenial soil. The face of the hill was very stony, and I found, on examination, that a great change had taken place in the rock-formation, the granite ranges having given place to chlorite schist.

We reached Whaby's about 9 a.m. of the morning of the 27th, and received every attention and civility from him. The valley in which we had slept opened upon an extensive plain, to the eastward of which the Morumbidgee formed the extreme boundary; and it was in a bight, and on ground rather elevated above the plain, that he had fixed his residence. He informed me that we should have to cross the river, as its banks were too precipitous, and the ranges too abrupt, to admit of our keeping the right side; and recommended me to examine and fix upon a spot at which to cross, before I again moved forward, expressing his readiness to accompany me as a guide. We accordingly rode down the river, to a place at which some stockman had effected a passage,—after a week's labour in hewing out a canoe. I by no means intended that a similar delay should occur in our case, but I saw no objection to our crossing at the same place; since its depth, and consequent tranquillity, rendered it eligible enough for that purpose.

THE RIVER DUMOT.

The Dumot river, another mountain stream, joins the Morumbidgee opposite to Mr. Whaby's residence. It is little inferior to the latter either in size or in the rapidity of its current, and, if I may rely on the information I received, waters a finer country, the principal rock-formation upon it being of limestone and whinstone. It rises amidst the snowy ranges to the S.E., and its banks are better peopled than those of the stream into which it discharges itself. Of course, such a tributary enlarges the Morumbidgee considerably: indeed, the fact is sufficiently evident from the appearance of the latter below the junction.

During our ride with Whaby down its banks, we saw nothing but the richest flats, almost entirely clear of timber and containing from 400 to 700 acres, backed by ranges that were but partially wooded, and were clothed with verdure to their very summits. The herds that were scattered over the first were almost lost in the height of the vegetation, and the ranges served as natural barriers to prevent them from straying away.

CROSS AND RE-CROSS THE MORUMBIDGEE.

On the following morning, we started for the place at which it had been arranged that we should cross the Morumbidgee, but, though no more than five miles in a direct line from Whaby's house, in consequence of the irregularity of the ground, the drays did not reach it before noon. The weight and quantity of our stores being taken into consideration, the task we had before us was not a light one. Such, however, was the industry of the men, that before it became dark the whole of them, including the drays and sheep, were safely deposited on the opposite bank. We were enabled to be thus expeditious, by means of a punt that we made with the tarpaulins on an oblong frame. As soon as it was finished, a rope was conveyed across the river, and secured to a tree, and a running cord being then fastened to the punt, a temporary ferry was established, and the removal of our stores rendered comparatively easy. M'Leay undertook to drive the horses and cattle over a ford below us, but he did not calculate on the stubborn disposition of the latter, and, consequently, experienced some difficulty, and was well nigh swept away by the current. So great was his difficulty, that he was obliged to land, to his great discomfiture, amidst a grove of lofty nettles. Mulholland, who accompanied him, and who happened to be naked, was severly stung by them. The labour of the day was, however, satisfactorily concluded, and we lay down to rest with feelings of entire satisfaction.

A great part of the following day was consumed in reloading, nor did we pursue our journey until after two o'clock. We then passed over tracks on the left of the river of the same rich description that existed on its right; they were much intersected by creeks, but were clear of timber, and entirely out of the reach of floods. At about seven miles from where we started, we found ourselves checked by precipitous rocks jutting into the stream, and were obliged once more to make preparations for crossing it. Instead of a deep and quiet reach, however, the Morumbidgee here expanded into a fretful rapid; but it was sufficiently shallow to admit of our taking the drays over, without the trouble of unloading them. There was still, however, some labour required in cutting down the banks, and the men were fully occupied until after sunset; and so well did they work, that an hour's exertion in the morning enabled us to make the passage with safety. On ascending the right bank, we found that we had to force through a dense body of reeds, covering some flooded land, at the base of a range terminating upon the river; and we were obliged, in order to extricate ourselves from our embarrassments, to pass to the N.W. of the point, and to cross a low part of the range. This done, we met with no further interruptions during the day, but travelled along rich and clear flats to a deep bight below an angle of the river called Nangaar by the natives; where we pitched our camp, and our animals revelled amid the most luxuriant pasture. Only in one place did the sandy superficies upon the plain indicate that it was there subject to flood.

The Morumbidgee from Juggiong to our present encampment had held a general S.S.W. course, but from the summit of a hill behind the tents it now appeared to be gradually sweeping round to the westward; and I could trace the line of trees upon its banks, through a rich and extensive valley in that direction, as far as my sight could reach. The country to the S.E. maintained its lofty character, but to the westward the hills and ranges were evidently decreasing in height, and the distant interior seemed fast sinking to a level. The general direction of the ranges had been from N. to S., and as we had been travelling parallel to them, their valleys were shut from our view. Now, however, several rich and extensive ones became visible, opening from the southward into the valley of the Morumbidgee, and, as a further evidence of a change of country from a confused to a more open one, a plain of considerable size stretched from immediately beneath the hill on which I was to the N.W.

GEOLOGY OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.

The Morumbidgee itself, from the length and regularity of its reaches, as well as from its increased size, seemed to intimate that it had successfully struggled through the broken country in which it rises, and that it would henceforward meet with fewer interruptions to its course. It still, however, preserved all the characters of a mountain stream; having alternate rapids and deep pools, being in many places encumbered with fallen timber, and generally running over a shingly bed, composed of rounded fragments of every rock of which the neighbouring ranges were formed, and many others that had been swept by the torrents down it. The rock formation of the hills upon its right continued of that chlorite schist which prevailed near Mr. Whaby's, which I have already noticed, and quartz still appeared in large masses, on the loftier ranges opposite, so that the geology of the neighbourhood could not be said to have undergone any material change. It might, however, be considered an extraordinary feature in it, that a small hill of blue limestone existed upon the left bank of the river. The last place at which we had seen limestone was at Yass, but I had learned from Mr. Whaby, that, together with whinstone, it was abundant near a Mr. Rose's station on the Dumot, that was not at any great distance. The irregularity, however, of the intervening country, made the appearance of this solitary rock more singular.

Although the fires of the natives had been frequent upon the river, none had, as yet, ventured to approach us, in consequence of some misunderstanding that had taken place between them and Mr. Stuckey's stockmen. Mr. Roberts' stockmen [these men had lately fixed themselves on the river a little below Mr. Whaby's], however, brought a man and a boy to us at this place in the afternoon, but I could not persuade them to accompany us on our journey—neither could I, although my native boy understood them perfectly, gain any particular information from them.

In consequence of rain, we did not strike the tents so early as usual. At 7 a.m. a heavy thunder storm occurred from the N.W. after which the sky cleared, and we were enabled to push forward at 11 a.m., moving on a general W.N.W, course, over rich flats, which, having been moistened by the morning's showers, showed the dark colour of the rich earth of which they were composed. Some sand-hills were, however, observed near the river, of about fifteen feet in elevation, crowned by banksias; and the soil of the flats had a very partial mixture of sand in it. How these sand-hills could have been formed it is difficult to say; but they produced little minor vegetation, and were as pure as the sand of the sea-shore. Some considerable plains were noticed to our right, in appearance not inferior to the ground on which we were journeying. At noon we rose gradually from the level of these plains, and travelled along the side of a hill, until we got to a small creek, at which we stopped, though more than a mile and a half from the river. The clouds had been gathering again in the N.W. quarter, and we had scarcely time to secure our flour, when a second storm burst upon us, and it continued to rain violently for the remainder of the day.

BEAUTIFUL PROSPECT.

From a small hill that lay to our left Mr. M'Leay and I enjoyed a most beautiful view. Beneath us to the S. E. the rich and lightly timbered valley through which the Morumbidgee flows, extended, and parts of the river were visible through the dark masses of swamp-oak by which it was lined, or glittering among the flooded-gum trees, that grew in its vicinity. In the distance was an extensive valley that wound between successive mountain ranges. More to the eastward, both mountain and woodland bore a dark and gloomy shade, probably in consequence of the light upon them at the time. Those lofty peaks that had borne nearly south of us from Pouni, near Yass, now rose over the last-mentioned ranges, and by their appearance seemed evidently to belong to a high and rugged chain. To the westward, the decline of country was more observable than ever; and the hills on both sides of the river, were lower and more distant from it. Those upon which we found ourselves were composed of iron-stone, were precipitous towards the river in many places, of sandy soil, and were crowned with beef-wood as well as box. The change in the rock-formation and in the soil, produced a corresponding change in the vegetation. The timber was not so large as it had been, neither did the hills any longer bear the green appearance which had distinguished those we had passed to their very summits. The grass here grew in tufts amidst the sand, and was of a burnt appearance as if it had suffered from drought.

NATIVES—THEIR SUFFERING FROM COLD.

Some natives had joined us in the morning, and acted as our guides; or it is more than probable that we should have continued our course along the river, and got enbarrassed among impediments that were visible from our elevated position; for it was evident that the range we had ascended terminated in an abrupt precipice on the river, that we could not have passed. The blacks suffered beyond what I could have imagined, from cold, and seemed as incapable of enduring it as if they had experienced the rigour of a northern snow storm.

The morning of the 2nd December was cloudy and lowering, and the wind still hung in the N.W. There was truly every appearance of bad weather, but our anxiety to proceed on our journey overcame our apprehensions, and the animals were loaded and moved off at 7 a.m. The rain which had fallen the evening previous, rendered travelling heavy; so that we got on but slowly. At 11, the clouds burst, and continued to pour down for the rest of the day. On leaving the creek we crossed the spine of the range, and descending from it into a valley, that continued to the river on the one hand, and stretched away to the N.W. on the other, we ascended some hills opposite to us, and moved generally through open, undulating forest ground, affording good pasturage.

SMOKING AN OPOSSUM.

One of the blacks being anxious to get an opossum out of a dead tree, every branch of which was hollow, asked for a tomahawk, with which he cut a hole in the trunk above where he thought the animal lay concealed. He found however, that he had cut too low, and that it had run higher up. This made it necessary to smoke it out; he accordingly got some dry grass, and having kindled a fire, stuffed it into the hole he had cut. A raging fire soon kindled in the tree, where the draft was great, and dense columns of smoke issued from the end of each branch as thick as that from the chimney of a steam engine. The shell of the tree was so thin that I thought it would soon be burnt through, and that the tree would fall; but the black had no such fears, and, ascending to the highest branch, he watched anxiously for the poor little wretch he had thus surrounded with dangers and devoted to destruction; and no sooner did it appear, half singed and half roasted, than he seized upon it and threw it down to us with an air of triumph. The effect of the scene in so lonely a forest, was very fine. The roaring of the fire in the tree, the fearless attitude of the savage, and the associations which his colour and appearance, enveloped as he was in smoke, called up, were singular, and still dwell on my recollection. We had not long left the tree, when it fell with a tremendous crash, and was, when we next passed that way, a mere heap of ashes.

ACCIDENTS.

Shortly before it commenced raining, the dogs started an emu, and took after it, followed by M'Leay and myself. We failed in killing it, and I was unfortunate enough to lose a most excellent watch upon the occasion, which in regularity was superior to the chronometer I had with me.

As there was no hope of the weather clearing up, I sent M'Leay and one of the blacks with the flour to the river, with directions to pile it up and cover it with tarpaulins, as soon as possible, remaining myself to bring up the drays. It was not, however, until after 4 p.m. that we gained the river-side, or that we were enabled to get into shelter. Fraser met with a sad accident while assisting the driver of the teams, who, accidentally, struck him with the end of the lash of his whip in the eye, and cut the lower lid in two. The poor fellow fell to the ground as if he had been shot, and really, from the report of the whip, I was at first uncertain of the nature of the accident.

PONDEBADGERY.

We had gradually ascended some hills; and as the sweep of the valley led southerly, we continued along it until we got to its very head; then, crossing the ridge we descended the opposite side, towards a beautiful plain, on the further extremity of which the river line was marked by the dark-leafed casuarina. In spite of the badness of the weather and the misfortunes of the day, I could not but admire the beauty of the scene. We were obliged to remain stationary the following day, in consequence of one of the drays being out of repair, and requiring a new axle-tree. I could hardly regret the necessity that kept us in so delightful a spot. This plain, which the natives called Pondebadgery, and in which a station has since been formed, is about two miles in breadth, by about three and a-half in length. It is surrounded apparently on every side by hills. The river running E. and W. forms its southern boundary. The hills by which we had entered it, terminating abruptly on the river to the north-east, form a semi-circle round it to the N.N.W. where a valley, the end of which cannot be seen, runs to the north-west, of about half a mile in breadth. On the opposite side of the river moderate hills rise over each other, and leave little space between them and its banks. The Morumbidgee itself, with an increased breadth, averaging from seventy to eighty yards, presents a still, deep sheet of water to the view, over which the casuarina bends with all the grace of the willow, or the birch, but with more sombre foliage. To the west, a high line of flooded-gum trees extending from the river to the base of the hills which form the west side of the valley before noticed, hides the near elevations, and thus shuts in the whole space. The soil of the plain is of the richest description, and the hills backing it, together with the valley, are capable of depasturing the most extensive flocks.

Such is the general landscape from the centre of Pondebadgery Plain. Behind the line of gum-trees, the river suddenly sweeps away to the south, and forms a deep bight of seven miles, when, bearing up again to the N.W. it meets some hills about 10 miles to the W.N.W. of the plain, thus encircling a still more extensive space, that for richness of soil, and for abundance of pasture, can nowhere be excelled; such, though on a smaller scale, are all the flats that adorn the banks of the Morumbidgee, first on one side and then on the other, as the hills close in upon them, from Juggiong to Pondebadgery.

TRAVELLING DOWN THE RIVER.

It is deeply to be regretted that this noble river should exist at such a distance from the capital as to be unavailable. During our stay on the Pondebadgery Plain, the men caught a number of codfish, as they are generally termed, but which are, in reality, a species of perch. The largest weighed 40lb. but the majority of the others were small, not exceeding from six to eight. M'Leay and I walked to the N.W. extremity of the plain, in order to ascertain how we should debouche from it, and to get, if possible, a view of the western interior. We took with us two blacks who had attached themselves to the party, and had made themselves generally useful. On ascending the most westerly of the hills, we found it composed of micaceous schist, the upper coat of which was extremely soft, and broke with a slaty fracture, or crumbled into a sparkling dust beneath our feet. The summit of the hill was barren, and beef-wood alone grew on it. The valley, of which it was the western boundary, ran up northerly for two or three miles, with all the appearance of richness and verdure. To the south extended the flat I have noticed, more heavily timbered than we had usually found them, bounded, or backed rather, by a hilly country, although one fast losing in its general height. To the W.N.W. there was a moderate range of hills on the opposite side of an extensive valley, running up northerly, from which a lateral branch swept round to the W.N.W. with a gradual ascent into the hills, which bore the same appearance of open forest, grazing land, as prevailed in similar tracts to the eastward. The blacks pointed out to us our route up the valley, and stated that we should get on the banks of the river again in a direction W. by N. from the place on which we stood. We accordingly crossed the principal valley on the following morning, and gradually ascended the opposite line of hills. They terminate to the S.E. in lofty precipices, overlooking the river flats, and having a deep chain of ponds under them. The descent towards the river was abrupt, and we encamped upon its banks, with a more confined view than any we had ever had before. There was an evident change in the river; the banks were reedy, the channel deep and muddy, and the neighbourhood bore more the appearance of being subject to overflow than it had done in any one place we had passed over. The hills were much lower, and as we gained the southern brow of that under which we encamped, we could see a level and wooded country to the westward. The line of the horizon was unbroken by any hills in the distance, and the nearer ones seemed gradually to lose themselves in the darkness of the landscape.

The two natives, whom the stockmen had named Peter and Jemmie, were of infinite service to us, from their knowledge of all the passes, and the general features of the country. Having, however, seen us thus far on the journey from their usual haunts, they became anxious to return, and it was with some difficulty we persuaded them to accompany us for a few days longer, in hopes of reward. The weather had been cool and pleasant; the thermometer averaging 78 of Fahrenheit at noon, in consequences of which the animals kept in good condition, the men healthy and zealous. The sheep Mr. O'Brien had presented to us, gave no additional trouble; they followed in the rear of the party without attempting to wander, and were secured at night in a small pen or fold. No waste attended their slaughter, nor did they lose in condition, from being driven from ten to fifteen miles daily, so much as I had been led to suppose they would have done.

CHAPTER III.

Character of the Morumbidgee where it issues from the hilly country—Appearance of approach to swamps—Hamilton Plains—Intercourse with the natives—Their appearance, customs, &c.—Change in the character of the river—Mirage—Dreariness of the country—Ride towards the Lachlan river—Two boats built and launched on the Morumbidgee; and the drays, with part of the men sent back to Goulburn Plains.

NATIVES—WILD GAME,&c.; CHARACTER OF THE RIVER
AND THE ADJOINING COUNTRY.

From our camp, the Morumbidgee held a direct westerly course for about three miles. The hills under which we had encamped, rose so close upon our right as to leave little space between them and the river. At the distance of three miles, however, they suddenly terminated, and the river changed its direction to the S.W., while a chain of ponds extended to the westward, and separated the alluvial flats from a somewhat more elevated plain before us. We kept these ponds upon our left for some time, but, as they ultimately followed the bend of the river, we left them. The blacks led us on a W. by S. course to the base of a small range two or three miles distant, near which there was a deep lagoon. It was evident they here expected to have found some other natives. Being disappointed, however, they turned in towards the river again, but we stopped short of it on the side of a serpentine sheet of water, an apparent continuation of the chain of ponds we had left behind us, forming a kind of ditch round the S.W. extremity of the range, parallel to which we had continued to travel. This range, which had been gradually decreasing in height from the lagoon, above which it rose perpendicularly, might almost be said to terminate here. We fell in with two or three natives before we halted, but the evident want of population in so fine a country, and on so noble a river, surprised me extremely. We saw several red kangaroos in the course of the day, and succeeded in killing one. It certainly is a beautiful animal, ranging the wilds in native freedom. The female and the kid are of a light mouse-colour. Wild turkeys abound on this part of the Morumbidgee, but with the exception of a few terns, which are found hovering over the lagoons, no new birds had as yet been procured; and the only plant that enriched our collection, was an unknown metrosideros. In crossing the extremity of the range, the wheels of the dray sunk deep into a yielding and coarse sandy soil, of decomposed granite, on which forest-grass prevailed in tufts, which, being far apart, made the ground uneven, and caused the animals to trip. We rose at one time sufficiently high to obtain an extensive view, and had our opinions confirmed as to the level nature of the country we were so rapidly approaching. From the N. to the W.S.W. the eye wandered over a wooded and unbroken interior, if I except a solitary double hill that rose in the midst of it, bearing S. 82 degrees W. distant 12 miles, and another singular elevation that bore S. 32 degrees W. called by the natives, Kengal. The appearance to the E.S.E. was still that of a mountainous country, while from the N.E., the hills gradually decrease in height, until lost in the darkness of surrounding objects to the northward. We did not travel this day more than 13 miles on a W. by N. course. The Morumbidgee, where we struck it, by its increased size, kept alive our anticipations of its ultimately leading us to some important point. The partial rains that had fallen while we were on its upper branch, had swollen it considerably, and it now rolled along a vast body of water at the rate of three miles an hour, preserving a medium width of 150 feet; its banks retaining a height far above the usual level of the stream. A traveller who had never before descended into the interior of New Holland, would have spurned the idea of such a river terminating in marshes; but with the experience of the former journey, strong as hope was within my breast, I still feared it might lose itself in the vast flat upon which we could scarcely be said to have yet entered. The country was indeed taking up more and more every day the features of the N.W. interior. Cypresses were observed upon the minor ridges, and the soil near the river, although still rich, and certainly more extensive than above, was occasionally mixed with sand, and scattered over with the claws of crayfish and shells, indicating its greater liability to be flooded; nor indeed could I entertain a doubt that the river had laid a great part of the levels around us under water long after it found that channel in which nature intended ultimately to confine it. We killed another fine red kangaroo in the early part of the day, in galloping after which I got a heavy fall.

The two blacks who had been with us so long, and who had not only exerted themselves to assist us, but had contributed in no small degree to our amusement, though they had from M'Leay's liberality, tasted all the dainties with which we had provided ourselves, from sugar to concentrated cayenne, intimated that they could no longer accompany the party. They had probably got to the extremity of their beat, and dared not venture any further. They left us with evident regret, receiving, on their departure, several valuable presents, in the shape of tomahawks &c. The last thing they did was to point out the way to us, and to promise to join us on our return, although they evidently little anticipated ever seeing us again.

In pursuing our journey, we entered a forest, consisting of box-trees, casuarinae, and cypresses, on a light sandy soil, in which both horses and bullocks sunk so deep that their labour was greatly increased, more especially as the weather had become much warmer. At noon I altered my course from N.W. by W. to W.N.W., and reached the Morumbidgee at 3 in the afternoon. The flats bordering it were extensive and rich, and, being partially mixed with sand, were more fitted for agricultural purposes than the stiffer and purer soil amidst the mountains; but the interior beyond them was far from being of corresponding quality. We crossed several plains on which vegetation was scanty, probably owing to the hardness of the soil, which was a stiff loamy clay, and which must check the growth of plants, by preventing the roots from striking freely into it. The river where we stopped for the night appeared to have risen considerably, and the fish were rolling about on the surface of the water with a noise like porpoises. No elevations were visible, so that I had not an opportunity of continuing the chain of survey with the points I had previously taken.

TRAVELLING DOWN THE RIVER.

As we proceeded down the river on the 8th, the flats became still more extensive than they had ever been, and might almost be denominated plains. Vegetation was scanty upon them, although the soil was of the first quality. About nine miles from our camp, we struck on a small isolated hill, that could scarcely have been of 200 feet elevation; yet, depressed as it was, the view from its summit was very extensive, and I was surprised to find that we were still in some measure surrounded by high lands, of which I took the following bearings, connected with the present ones.

A High Peak.....N. 66 E. distance 40 miles.
Kengal ........ N. 110 E. distant.
Double Hill ... S. 10 W. distant.

To the north, there were several fires burning, which appeared rather the fires of natives, than conflagrations, and as the river had made a bend to the N.N.W., I doubted not that they were upon its banks. From this hill, which was of compact granite, we struck away to the W.N.W., and shortly afterwards crossed some remarkable sand-hills. Figuratively speaking, they appeared like islands amidst the alluvial deposits, and were as pure in their composition as the sand on the sea-shore. They were generally covered with forest grass, in tufts, and a coarse kind of rushes, under banksias and cypresses. We found a small fire on the banks of the river, and close to it the couch and hut of a solitary native, who had probably seen us approach, and had fled. There cannot be many inhabitants hereabouts, since there are no paths to indicate that they frequent this part of the Morumbidgee more at one season than another.

On the 9th, the river fell off again to the westward, and we lost a good deal of the northing we had made the day before. We journeyed pretty nearly equidistant from the stream, and kept altogether on the alluvial flats. As we were wandering along the banks of the river, a black started up before us, and swam across to the opposite side, where he immediately hid himself. We could by no means induce him to show himself; he was probably the lonely being whom we had scared away from the fire the day before. In the afternoon, however we surprised a family of six natives, and persuaded them to follow us to our halting place. My boy understood them well; but the young savage had the cunning to hide the information they gave him, or, for aught I know, to ask questions that best suited his own purposes, and therefore we gained little intelligence from them.

Every day now produced some change in the face of the country, by which it became more and more assimilated to that I had traversed during the first expedition. Acacia pendula now made its appearance on several plains beyond the river deposits, as well as that salsolaceous class of plants, among which the schlerolina and rhagodia are so remarkable. The natives left us at sunset, but returned early in the morning with an extremely facetious and good-humoured old man, who volunteered to act as our guide without the least hesitation. There was a cheerfulness in his manner, that gained our confidence at once, and rendered him a general favourite. He went in front with the dogs, and led us a little away from the river to kill kangaroos, as he said. At about two miles we struck on an inconsiderable elevation, which the party crossed at the S.W. extremity. I ascended it at the opposite end, but although the view was extensive, I could not make out the little hill of granite from which I had taken my former bearings, and the only elevation I could recognise as connected with them, was one about ten miles distant, bearing S. 168 W. I could observe very distant ranges to the E.N.E. and immediately below me in that direction, there was a large clear plain, skirted by acacia pendula, stretching from S.S.E. to N.N.W. The crown and ridges of the hill on which I stood, were barren, stony, and covered with beef-wood, the rock-formation being a coarse granite. The drays had got so far ahead of me that I did not overtake them before they had halted on the river at a distance of ten miles.

INFORMATION FROM A NATIVE.

The Morumbidgee appeared, on examination, to have increased in breadth, and continued to rise gradually. It is certainly a noble stream, very different from those I had already traced to their termination. The old black informed me that there was another large river flowing to the southward of west, to which the Morumbidgee was as a creek, and that we could gain it in four days. He stated that its waters were good, but that its banks were not peopled. That such a feature existed where he laid it down, I thought extremely probable, because it was only natural to expect that other streams descended from the mountains in the S.E. of the island, as well as that on which we were travelling. The question was, whether either of them held on an uninterrupted course to some reservoir, or whether they fell short of the coast and exhausted themselves in marshes. Considering the concave direction of the mountains to the S.E., I even at this time hoped that the rivers falling into the interior would unite sooner or later, and contribute to the formation of an important and navigable stream. Of the fate of the Morumbidgee, the old black could give no account. It seemed probable, therefore, that we were far from its termination.

I had hitherto been rather severe upon the animals, for although our journey had not exceeded from twelve to fifteen miles a day, it had been without intermission. I determined, therefore, to give both men and animals a day of rest, as soon as I should find a convenient place. We started on the 11th with this intention, but we managed to creep over eight or ten miles of ground before we halted. The country was slightly undulated, and much intersected by creeks, few of which had water in them. The whole tract was, however, well adapted either for agriculture, or for grazing, and, in spite of the drought that had evidently long hung over it, was well covered with vegetation. We had passed all high lands, and the interior to the westward presented an unbroken level to the eye. The Morumbidgee appeared to hold a more northerly course than I had anticipated. Still low ranges continued upon our right, and the cypress ridges became more frequent and denser; but the timber on the more open grounds generally consisted of box and flooded-gum. Of minor trees, the acacia pendula was the most prevalent, with a shrub bearing a round nut, enclosed in a scarlet capsule, and an interesting species of stenochylus. I had observed as yet, few of the plants of the more northern interior.

NATIVES—THEIR UGLINESS.

In this neighbourhood, the dogs killed an emu and a kangaroo, which came in very conveniently for some natives whom we fell in with on one of the river flats. They were, without exception, the worst featured of any I had ever seen. It is scarcely possible to conceive that human beings could be so hideous and loathsome. The old black, who was rather good-looking, told me they were the last we should see for some time, and I felt that if these were samples of the natives on the lowlands, I cared very little how few of I them we should meet.

EXTENSIVE PLAINS.

The country on the opposite side of the river had all the features of that to the north of it, but a plain of such extent suddenly opened upon us to the southward, that I halted at once in order to examine it, and by availing myself of a day of rest, to fix our position more truly than we could otherwise have done. We accordingly pitched our tents under some lofty gum-trees, opposite to the plain, and close upon the edge of the sandy beach of the river. Before they were turned out, the animals were carefully examined, and the pack-saddles overhauled, that they might undergo any necessary repairs. The river fell considerably during the night, but it poured along a vast body of water, possessing a strong current. The only change I remarked in it was that it now had a bed of sand, and was generally deeper on one side than on the other. It kept a very uniform breadth of from 150 to 170 feet—and a depth of from 4 to 20. Its channel, though occasionally much encumbered with fallen timber, was large enough to contain twice the volume of water then in it, but it had outer and more distant banks, the boundaries of the alluvial flats, to confine it within certain limits, during the most violent floods, and to prevent its inundating the country.

HAMILTON'S PLAINS.

With a view to examine the plain opposite to us, I directed our horses to be taken across the river early in the morning, and after breakfast, M'Leay and I swam across after them. We found the current strong, and could not keep a direct line over the channel, but were carried below the place at which we plunged in. We proceeded afterwards in a direction W.S.W. across the plain for five or six miles, before we saw trees on the opposite extremity, at a still greater distance. We thus found ourselves in the centre of an area of from 26 to 30 miles. It appeared to be perfectly level, though not really so. The soil upon it was good, excepting in isolated spots, where it was sandy. Vegetation was scanty upon it, but, on the whole, I should conclude that it was fitter for agriculture than for grazing. For I think it very probable, that those lands which lie hardening and bare in a state of nature, would produce abundantly if broken up by the plough. I called this Hamilton's plains, in remembrance of the surgeon of my regiment. The Morumbidgee forms its N.E. boundary, and a creek rising on it, cuts off a third part on the western side, and runs away from the river in a southerly direction. This creek, even before it gets to the outskirts of the plains, assumes a considerable size. Such a fact would argue that heavy rains fall in this part of the interior, to cut out such a watercourse, or that the soil is extremely loose; but I should think the former the most probable, since the soil of this plain had a substratum of clay. I place our encampment on the river in latitude 34 degrees 41 minutes 45 seconds S., and in East longitude 146 degrees 50 minutes, the variation of the compass being 6 degrees 10 minutes E.

INTERCOURSE WITH THE NATIVES; SCANTINESS OF THE POPULATION.

On our return to the camp we found several natives with our people, and among them one of the tallest I had ever seen. Their women were with them, and they appeared to have lost all apprehension of any danger occurring from us. The animals were benefited greatly by this day of rest. We left the plain, therefore, on the 13th with renewed spirits, and passed over a country very similar to that by which we had approached it, one well adapted for grazing, but intersected by numerous creeks, at two of which we found natives, some of whom joined our party. Our old friend left us in quest of some blacks, who, as he informed Hopkinson, had seen the tracks of our horses on the Darling. I was truly puzzled at such a statement, which was, however, further corroborated by the circumstance of one of the natives having a tire-nail affixed to a spear, which he said was picked up, by the man who gave it to him, on one of our encampments. I could not think it likely that this story was true, and rather imagined they must have picked up the nail near the located districts, and I was anxious to have the point cleared up. When we halted we had a large assemblage of natives with us, amounting in all to twenty-seven, but I awaited in vain the return of the old man. The night passed away without our seeing him, nor did he again join us.

We started in the morning with our new acquaintances, and kept on a south-westerly course during the day, over an excellent grazing, and, in many places, an agricultural country, still intersected by creeks, that were too deep for the water to have dried in them. The country more remote from the river, however, began to assume more and more the character and appearance of the northern interior. I rode into several plains, the soil of which was either a red sandy loam, bare of vegetation, or a rotten and blistered earth, producing nothing but rhagodiae, salsolae, and misembrianthemum.

We fell in with another tribe of blacks during the journey, to whom we were literally consigned by those who had been previously with us, and who now turned back, while our new friends took the lead of the drays. They were two fine young men, but had very ugly wives, and were for a long time extremely diffident. I found that I could obtain but little information through my black boy,—whether from his not understanding me, or because he was too cunning, is uncertain. One of these young men, however, clearly stated that he had seen the tracks of bullocks and horses, a long time ago, to the N.N.W. in the direction of some detached hills, that were visible from 20 to 25 miles distant. He remembered them, he said, as a boy, and added that the white men were without water. It was, therefore, clear that he alluded to Mr. Oxley's excursion, northerly from the Lachlan, and I had no doubt on my mind, that he had been on one of that officer's encampments, and that the hills to the north of us were those to the opposite base of which he had penetrated. I was determined, therefore, if practicable, to reach these hills, deeming it a matter of great importance to connect the surveys, but I deferred my journey for a day or two, in hopes, from the continued northerly course of the river, that we should have approached them nearer.

In the evening we fell in with some more blacks, among whom were two brothers, of those who were acting as our guides. One had a very pretty girl as a wife, and all the four brothers were very good-looking young men. There cannot, I should think, be a numerous population on the banks of the Morumbidgee, from the fact of our having seen not more than fifty in an extent of more than 180 miles. They are apparently scattered along it in families. I was rather surprised that my boy understood their language well, since it certainly differed from that of the Macquarie tribes, but nevertheless as these people do not wander far, our information as to what was before us was very gradually arrived at, and only as we fell in with the successive families. Moreover, as my boy was very young, it may be that he was more eager in communicating to those who had no idea of them, the wonders he had seen, than in making inquiries on points that were indifferent to him.

CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY.

We passed a very large plain in the course of the day, which was bounded by forests of box, cypress, and the acacia pendula, of red sandy soil and parched appearance. The Morumbidgee evidently overflows a part of the lands we crossed, to a greater extent than heretofore, though the alluvial deposits beyond its influence were still both rich and extensive. The crested pigeon made its appearance on the acacias, which I took to be a sure sign of our approach to a country more than ordinarily subject to overflow; since on the Macquarie and the Darling, those birds were found only to inhabit the regions of marshes, or spaces covered by the acacia pendula, or the polygonum. We had not, however, yet seen any of the latter plant, although we were shortly destined to be almost lost amidst fields of it.

CHANGE IN THE COUNTRY.

We were now approaching that parallel of longitude in which the other known rivers of New Holland had been found to exhaust themselves; the least change therefore, for the worse was sufficient to raise my apprehensions; yet, although the Morumbidgee had received no tributary from the Dumot downwards, and was leading us into an apparently endless level, I saw no indication of its decreasing in size, or in the rapidity of its current. Certainly, however, I had, from the character of the country around us, an anticipation that a change was about to take place in it, and this anticipation was verified in the course of the following day. The alluvial flats gradually decreased in breadth, and we journeyed mostly over extensive and barren plains, which in many places approached so near the river as to form a part of its bank. They were covered with the salsolaceous class of plants, so common in the interior, in a red sandy soil, and were as even as a bowling green. The alluvial spaces near the river became covered with reeds, and, though subject to overflow at every partial rise of it, were so extremely small as scarcely to afford food for our cattle. Flooded-gum trees of lofty size grew on these reedy spaces, and marked the line of the river, but the timber of the interior appeared stunted and useless.

DESCRIPTION OF THE NATIVES; MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES.

We found this part of the Morumbidgee much more populous than its upper branches. When we halted, we had no fewer than forty-one natives with us, of whom the young men were the least numerous. They allowed us to choose a place for ourselves before they formed their own camp, and studiously avoided encroaching on our ground so as to appear troublesome. Their manners were those of a quiet and inoffensive people, and their appearance in some measure prepossessing. The old men had lofty foreheads, and stood exceedingly erect. The young men were cleaner is their persons and were better featured than any we had seen, some of them having smooth hair and an almost Asiatic cast of countenance. On the other hand, the women and children were disgusting objects. The latter were much subject to diseases, and were dreadfully emaciated. It is evident that numbers of them die in their infancy for want of care and nourishment. We remarked none at the age of incipient puberty, but the most of them under six. In stating that the men were more prepossessing than any we had seen, I would not be understood to mean that they differed in any material point either from the natives of the coast, or of the most distant interior to which I had been, for they were decidedly the same race, and had the same leading features and customs, as far as the latter could be observed. The sunken eye and overhanging eyebrow, the high cheek-bone and thick lip, distended nostrils, the nose either short or acquiline, together with a stout bust and slender extremities, and both curled and smooth hair, marked the natives of the Morumbidgee as well as those of the Darling. They were evidently sprung from one common stock, the savage and scattered inhabitants of a rude and inhospitable land. In customs they differed in no material point from the coast natives, and still less from the tribes on the Darling and the Castlereagh. They extract the front tooth, lacerate their bodies, to raise the flesh, cicatrices being their chief ornament; procure food by the same means, paint in the same manner, and use the same weapons, as far as the productions of the country will allow them. But as the grass-tree is not found westward of the mountains, they make a light spear of a reed, similar to that of which the natives of the southern islands form their arrows. These they use for distant combat, and not only carry in numbers, but throw with the boomerang to a great distance and with unerring precision, making them to all intents and purposes as efficient as the bow and arrow. They have a ponderous spear for close fight, and others of different sizes for the chase. With regard to their laws, I believe they are universally the same all over the known parts of New South Wales. The old men have alone the privilege of eating the emu; and so submissive are the young men to this regulation, that if, from absolute hunger or under other pressing circumstances, one of them breaks through it, either during a hunting excursion, or whilst absent from his tribe, he returns under a feeling of conscious guilt, and by his manner betrays his guilt, sitting apart from the men, and confessing his misdemeanour to the chief at the first interrogation, upon which he is obliged to undergo a slight punishment. This evidently is a law of policy and necessity, for if the emus were allowed to be indiscriminately slaughtered, they would soon become extinct. Civilised nations may learn a wholesome lesson even from savages, as in this instance of their forebearance. For somewhat similar reasons, perhaps, married people alone are here permitted to eat ducks. They hold their corrobories, (midnight ceremonies), and sing the same melancholy ditty that breaks the stillness of night on the shores of Jervis' Bay, or on the banks of the Macquarie; and during the ceremony imitate the several birds and beasts with which they are acquainted. If these inland tribes differ in anything from those on the coast, it is in the mode of burying their dead, and, partially, in their language. Like all savages, they consider their women as secondary objects, oblige them to procure their own food, or throw to them over their shoulders the bones they have already picked, with a nonchalance that is extremely amusing; and, on the march, make them beasts of burden to carry their very weapons. The population of the Morumbidgee, as far as we had descended it at this time, did not exceed from ninety to a hundred souls. I am persuaded that disease and accidents consign many of them to a premature grave.

MIRAGE.

From this camp, one family only accompanied us. We journeyed due west over plains of great extent. The soil upon them was soft and yielding, in some places being a kind of light earth covered with rhagodiae, in others a red tenacious clay, overrun by the misembrianthemum and salsolae. Nothing could exceed the apparent barrenness of these plains, or the cheerlessness of the landscape. We had left all high lands behind us, and were now on an extensive plain, bounded in the distance by low trees or by dark lines of cypresses. The lofty gum-trees on the river followed its windings, and, as we opened the points, they appeared, from the peculiar effect of a mirage, as bold promontories jutting into the ocean, having literally the blue tint of distance. This mirage floated in a light tremulous vapour on the ground, and not only deceived us with regard to the extent of the plains, and the appearance of objects, but hid the trees, in fact, from our view altogether; so that, in moving, as we imagined, upon the very point or angle of the river, we found as we neared it, that the trees stretched much further into the plain, and were obliged to alter our course to round them. The heated state of the atmosphere, and the sandy nature of the country could alone have caused a mirage so striking in its effects, as this,—exceeding considerably similar appearances noticed during the first expedition. The travelling was so heavy, that I was obliged to make a short day's journey, and when we struck the river for the purpose of halting, it had fallen off very much in appearance, and was evidently much contracted, with low banks and a sandy bed. It was difficult to account for this sudden change, but when I gazed on the extent of level country before me, I began to dread that this hitherto beautiful stream would ultimately disappoint us.

EXCURSION TOWARDS A RIDGE OF HILLS.

I had deferred my intended excursion to the hills under which I imagined Mr. Oxley had encamped, until we were out of sight of them, and I now feared that it was almost too late to undertake it, but I was still anxious to determine a point in which I felt considerable interest. I was the more desirous of surveying the country to the northward, because of the apparent eagerness with which the natives had caught at the word Colare, which I recollected having heard a black on the Macquarie make use of in speaking of the Lachlan. They pointed to the N.N.W., and making a sweep with the arm raised towards the sky, seemed to intimate that a large sheet of water existed in that direction; and added that it communicated with the Morumbidgee more to the westward. This information confirmed still more my impressions with regard to Mr. Oxley's line of route; and, as I found a ready volunteer in M'Leay, I gave the party in charge to Harris until I should rejoin him, and turned back towards the hills, with the intention of reaching them if possible. No doubt we should have done so had it not been for the nature of the ground over which we travelled, and the impossibility of our exceeding a walk. We rode to a distance of 18 miles, but still found ourselves far short of the hills, and therefore gave up the point. I considered, however, that we were about the same distance to the south, as Mr. Oxley had been to the north of them, and in taking bearings of the highest points, I afterwards found that they exactly tallied with his bearings, supposing him to have taken them from his camp.

QUIET DEMEANOUR OF THE NATIVES.

On our way to the river, we Passed through some dense bushes of casuarinae and cypresses, to the outskirts of the plains through which the Morumbidgee winds. We reached the camp two or three hours after sunset, and found it crowded with natives to the number of 60. They were extremely quiet and inoffensive in their demeanour, and asked us to point out where they might sleep, before they ventured to kindle their fires. One old man, we remarked, had a club foot, and another was blind, but, as far as we could judge from the glare of the fires, the generality of them were fine young men, and supported themselves in a very erect posture when standing or walking. There were many children with the women, among whom colds seemed to prevail. It blew heavily from the N.W. during the night, and a little rain fell in the early part of the morning. Our route during the day, was over as melancholy a tract as ever was travelled. The plains to the N. and N.W. bounded the horizon; not a tree of any kind was visible upon them. It was equally open to the S., and it appeared as if the river was decoying us into a desert, there to leave us in difficulty and in distress. The very mirage had the effect of boundlessness in it, by blending objects in one general hue; or, playing on the ground, it cheated us with an appearance of water, and on arriving at the spot, we found a continuation of the same scorching plain, over which we were moving, instead of the stream we had hoped for.

The cattle about this time began to suffer, and, anxious as I was to push on, I was obliged to shorten my journeys, according to circumstances. Amidst the desolation around us, the river kept alive our hopes. If it traversed deserts, it might reach fertile lands, and it was to the issue of the journey that we had to look for success. It here, however, evidently overflowed its banks more extensively than heretofore, and broad belts of reeds were visible on either side of it, on which the animals exclusively subsisted. Most of the natives had followed us, and their patience and abstinence surprised me exceedingly. Some of them had been more than twenty-four hours without food, and yet seemed as little disposed to seek it as ever. I really thought they expected me to supply their wants, but as I could not act so liberal a scale, George M'Leay undeceived them; after which they betook themselves to the river, and got a supply of muscles. I rather think their going so frequently into the water engenders a catarrh, or renders them more liable to it than they otherwise would be. In the afternoon the wind shifted to the S.W. It blew a hurricane; and the temperature of the air was extremely low. The natives felt the cold beyond belief and kindled large fires. In the morning, when we moved away, the most of them started with fire-sticks to keep themselves warm; but they dropped off one by one, and at noon we found ourselves totally deserted.

DREARINESS OF THE LANDSCAPE.

It is impossible for me to describe the kind of country we were now traversing, or the dreariness of the view it presented. The plains were still open to the horizon, but here and there a stunted gum-tree, or a gloomy cypress, seemed placed by nature as mourners over the surrounding desolation. Neither beast nor bird inhabited these lonely and inhospitable regions, over which the silence of the grave seemed to reign. We had not, for days past, seen a blade of grass, so that the animals could not have been in very good condition. We pushed on, however, sixteen miles, in consequence of the coolness of the weather. We observed little change in the river in that distance, excepting that it had taken up a muddy bottom, and lost all the sand that used to fill it. The soil and productions on the plains continued unchanged in every respect. From this time to the 22nd, the country presented the same aspect. Occasional groups of cypress showed themselves on narrow sandy ridges, or partial brushes extended from the river, consisting chiefly of the acacia pendula, the stenochylus, and the nut I have already noticed. The soil on which they grew was, if possible, worse than that of the barren plain which we were traversing; and their colour and drooping state rendered the desolate landscape still more dreary.

On the 21st, we found the same singular substance (gypsum) embedded in the bank of the river that had been collected, during the former expedition, on the banks of the Darling; and hope, which is always uppermost in the human breast, induced me to think that we were fast approaching that stream. My observations placed me in 34 degrees 17 minutes 15 seconds S. and 145 degrees of E. longitude.

BLACK BOY DESERTS.

On the 22nd, my black boy deserted me. I was not surprised at his doing so, neither did I regret his loss, for he had been of little use under any circumstances. He was far too cunning for our purpose. I know not that the term ingratitude can be applied to one in his situation, and in whose bosom nature had implanted a love of freedom. We learnt from four blacks, with whom he had spoken, and who came to us in the afternoon, that he had gone up the river,—as I conjectured, to the last large tribe we had left, with whom he appeared to become very intimate.

A creek coming from the N.N.W. here fell into the Morumbidgee; a proof that the general decline of country was really to the south, although a person looking over it would have supposed the contrary.

COUNTRY SUBJECT TO INUNDATION.

We started on the 23rd, with the same boundlessness of plain on either side of us; but in the course of the morning a change took place, both in soil and productions; and from the red sandy loam, and salsolaceous plants, amidst which we had been toiling, we got upon a light tenacious and blistered soil, evidently subject to frequent overflow, and fields of polygonum junceum, amidst which, both the crested pigeon and the black quail were numerous. The drays and animals sank so deep in this, that we were obliged to make for the river, and keep upon its immediate banks. Still, with all the appearance of far-spread inundation, it continued undiminished in size, and apparently in the strength of its current. Its channel was deeper than near the mountains, but its breadth was about the same.

On the 24th, we were again entangled amidst fields of polygonum, through which we laboured until after eleven, when we gained a firmer soil. Some cypresses appeared upon our right, in a dark line, and I indulged hopes that a change was about to take place in the nature of the country. We soon, however, got on a light rotten earth, and were again obliged to make for the river, with the teams completely exhausted. We had not travelled many miles from our last camp, yet it struck me, that the river had fallen off in appearance. I examined it with feelings of intense anxiety, certain, as I was, that the flooded spaces, over which we had been travelling would, sooner or later, be succeeded by a country overgrown with reeds. The river evidently overflowed its banks, on both sides, for many miles, nor had I a doubt that, at some periods, the space northward, between it and the Lachlan, presented the appearance of one vast sea. The flats of polygonum stretched away to the N.W. to an amazing distance, as well as in a southerly direction, and the very nature of the soil bore testimony to its flooded origin. But the most unaccountable circumstance to me was, that it should be entirely destitute of vegetation, with the exception of the gloomy and leafless bramble I have noticed.

M'Leay, who was always indefatigable in his pursuit after subjects of natural history, shot a cockatoo, of a new species, hereabouts, having a singularly shaped upper mandible. It was white, with scarlet down under the neck feathers, smaller than the common cockatoo, and remarkable for other peculiarities.

INTERCOURSE WITH NATIVES; THE COLARE OR LACHLAN.

Two or three natives made their appearance at some distance from the party, but would not approach it until after we had halted. They then came to the tents, seven in number, and it was evident from their manner, that their chief or only object was to pilfer anything they could. We did not, therefore, treat them with much ceremony. They were an ill-featured race, and it was only by strict watching during the night that they were prevented from committing theft. Probably from seeing that we were aware of their intentions, they left us early, and pointing somewhat to the eastward of north, said they were going to the Colare, and on being asked how far it was, they signified that they should sleep there. I had on a former occasion recollected the term having been made use of by a black, on the Macquarie, when speaking to me of the Lachlan, and had questioned one of the young men who was with us at the time, and who seemed more intelligent than his companions, respecting it. Immediately catching at the word, he had pointed to the N.N.W., and, making a sweep with his arms raised towards the sky had intimated, evidently, that a large sheet of water existed in that direction, in the same manner that another black had done on a former occasion: on being further questioned, he stated that this communicated with the Morumbidgee more to the westward, and on my expressing a desire to go to it, he said we could not do so under four days. We had, it appeared, by the account of the seven natives, approached within one day's journey of it, and, as I thought it would be advisable to gain a little knowledge of the country to the north, I suggested to M'Leay to ride in that direction, while the party should be at rest, with some good feed for the cattle that fortune had pointed out to us.

EXCURSION TOWARDS THE LACHLAN.

Our horses literally sank up to their knees on parts of the great plain over which we had in the first instance to pass, and we rode from three to four miles before we caught sight of a distant wood at its northern extremity; the view from the river having been for the last two or three days, as boundless as the ocean. As we approached the wood, two columns of smoke rose from it, considerably apart, evidently the fires of natives near water. We made for the central space between them, having a dead acacia scrub upon our right. On entering the wood, we found that it contained for the most part, flooded-gum, under which bulrushes and reeds were mixed together. The whole space seemed liable to overflow, and we crossed numerous little drains, that intersected each other in every direction. From the resemblance of the ground to that at the bottom of the marshes of the Macquarie, I prognosticated to my companion that we should shortly come upon a creek, and we had not ridden a quarter of a mile further, when we found ourselves on the banks of one of considerable size. Crossing it, we proceeded northerly, until we got on the outskirts of a plain of red sandy soil, covered with rhagodia alone, and without a tree upon the visible horizon. The country appeared to be rising before us, but was extremely depressed to the eastward. After continuing along this plain for some time, I became convinced from appearances, that we were receding from water, and that the fires of the natives, which were no longer visible, must have been on the creek we had crossed, that I judged to be leading W.S.W. from the opposite quarter. We had undoubtedly struck below to the westward of the Colare or Lachlan, and the creek was the channel of communication between it and the Morumbidgee, at least such was the natural conclusion at which I arrived. Having no further object in continuing a northerly course, we turned to the S.E., and, after again passing the creek, struck away for the camp on a S. by W. course, and passed through a dense brush of cypress and casuarina in our way to it.

CONNECTION OF LACHLAN WITH MORUMBIDGEE.

Considering our situation as connected with the marshes of the Lachlan, I cannot but infer that the creek we struck upon during this excursion serves as a drain to the latter, to conduct its superfluous waters into the Morumbidgee in times of flood, as those of the Macquarie are conducted by the creek at the termination of its marshes into Morrisset's Chain of Ponds. It will be understood that I only surmise this. I argue from analogy, not from proof. Whether I am correct or not, my knowledge of the facts I have stated, tended very much to satisfy my mind as to the LAY of the interior; and to revive my hopes that the Morumbidgee would not fail us, although there was no appearance of the country improving.

COUNTRY COVERED WITH REEDS.

We started on the 26th, on a course somewhat to the N.W., and traversed plains of the same wearisome description as those I have already described. The wheels of the drays sank up to their axle-trees, and the horses above their fetlocks at every step. The fields of polygonum spread on every side of us like a dark sea, and the only green object within range of our vision was the river line of trees. In several instances, the force of both teams was put to one dray, to extricate it from the bed into which it had sunk, and the labour was considerably increased from the nature of the weather. The wind was blowing as if through a furnace, from the N.N.E., and the dust was flying in clouds, so as to render it almost suffocating to remain exposed to it. This was the only occasion upon which we felt the hot winds in the interior. We were, about noon, endeavouring to gain a point of a wood at which I expected to come upon the river again, but it was impossible for the teams to reach it without assistance. I therefore sent M'Leay forward, with orders to unload the pack animals as soon as he should make the river, and send them back to help the teams. He had scarcely been separated from me 20 minutes, when one of the men came galloping back to inform me that no river was to be found—that the country beyond the wood was covered with reeds as far as the eye could reach, and that Mr. M'Leay had sent him back for instructions. This intelligence stunned me for a moment or two, and I am sure its effect upon the men was very great. They had unexpectedly arrived at a part of the interior similar to one they had held in dread, and conjured up a thousand difficulties and privations. I desired the man to recall Mr. M'Leay; and, after gaining the wood, moved outside of it at right angles to my former course, and reached the river, after a day of severe toil and exposure, at half-past five. The country, indeed, bore every resemblance to that around the marshes of the Macquarie, but I was too weary to make any further effort: indeed it was too late for me undertake anything until the morning.

ANXIOUS COGITATIONS; SURVEY OF RIVER AND ENVIRONS.

The circumstances in which we were so unexpectedly placed, occupied my mind so fully that I could not sleep; and I awaited the return of light with the utmost anxiety. If we were indeed on the outskirts of marshes similar to those I had on a former occasion found so much difficulty in examining, I foresaw that in endeavouring to move round then I should recede from water, and place the expedition in jeopardy, probably, without gaining any determinate point, as it would be necessary for me to advance slowly and with caution. Our provisions, however, being calculated to last only to a certain period, I was equally reluctant to delay our operations. My course was, therefore, to be regulated by the appearance of the country and of the river, which I purposed examining with the earliest dawn. If the latter should be found to run into a region of reeds, a boat would be necessary to enable me to ascertain its direction; but, if ultimately it should be discovered to exhaust itself, we should have to strike into the interior on a N.W. course, in search of the Darling. I could not think of putting the whale-boat together in our then state of uncertainty, and it struck me that a smaller one could sooner he prepared for the purposes for which I should require it. These considerations, together with the view I had taken of the measures I might at last be forced into, determined me, on rising, to order Clayton to fell a suitable tree, and to prepare a saw-pit. The labour was of no consideration, and even if eventually the boat should not be wanted, no injury would arise, and it was better to take time by the forelock. Having marked a tree preparatory to leaving the camp, M'Leay and I started at an early hour on an excursion of deeper interest than any we had as yet undertaken; to examine the reeds, not only for the purpose of ascertaining their extent, if possible, but also to guide us in our future measures. We rode for some miles along the river side, but observed in it no signs, either of increase or of exhaustion. Its waters, though turbid, were deep, and its current still rapid. Its banks, too, were lofty, and showed no evidence of decreasing in height, so as to occasion an overflow of them, as had been the case with the Macquarie. We got among vast bodies of reeds, but the plains of the interior were visible beyond them. We were evidently in a hollow, and the decline of country was plainly to the southward of west. Every thing tended to strengthen my conviction that we were still far from the termination of the river. The character it had borne throughout, and its appearance now so far to the westward, gave me the most lively hopes that it would make good its way through the vast level into which it fell, and that its termination would accord with its promise. Besides, I daily anticipated its junction with some stream of equal, if not of greater magnitude from the S.E. I was aware that my resolves must be instant, decisive, and immediately acted upon, as on firmness and promptitude at this crisis the success of the expedition depended. About noon I checked my horse, and rather to the surprise of my companion, intimated to him my intention of returning to the camp, He naturally asked what I purposed doing. I told him it appeared to me more than probable that the Morumbidgee would hold good its course to some fixed point, now that it had reached a meridian beyond the known rivers of the interior. It was certain, from the denseness of the reeds, and the breadth of the belts, that the teams could not be brought any farther, and that, taking every thing into consideration, I had resolved on a bold and desperate measure, that of building the whale-boat, and sending home the drays. Our appearance in camp so suddenly, surprised the men not more than the orders I gave. They all thought I had struck on some remarkable change of country, and were anxious to know my ultimate views. It was not my intention however, immediately to satisfy their curiosity. I had to study their characters as long as I could, in order to select those best qualified to accompany me on the desperate adventure for which I was preparing.

BOAT BUILDING.

The attention both of M'Leay, and myself, was turned to the hasty building of the whale-boat. A shed was erected, and every necessary preparation made, and although Clayton had the keel of the small boat already laid down, and some planks prepared, she was abandoned for the present, and, after four days more of arduous labour, the whale-boat was painted and in the water. From her dimensions, it appeared to me impossible that she would hold all our provisions and stores, for her after-part had been fitted up as an armoury, which took away considerably from her capacity of stowage. The small boat would still, therefore, be necessary, and she was accordingly re-laid, for half the dimensions of the large boat, and in three days was alongside her consort in the river. Thus, in seven days we had put together a boat, twenty-seven feet in length, had felled a tree from the forest, with which we had built a second of half the size, had painted both, and had them at a temporary wharf ready for loading. Such would not have been the case had not our hearts been in the work, as the weather was close and sultry, and we found it a task of extreme labour. In the intervals between the hours of work, I prepared my despatches for the Governor, and when they were closed, it only remained for me to select six hands, the number I intended should accompany me down the river, and to load the boats, ere we should once more proceed in the further obedience of our instructions.

COMPLETION OF ARRANGEMENTS FOR EMBARKATION.

It was impossible that I could do without Clayton, whose perseverance and industry had mainly contributed to the building of the boats; of the other prisoners, I chose Mulholland and Macnamee; leaving the rest in charge of Robert Harris, whose steady conduct had merited my approbation. My servant, Harris, Hopkinson, and Fraser, of course, made up the crews. The boats were loaded in the evening of Jan. 6th, as it had been necessary to give the paint a little time to dry. On the 4th, I had sent Clayton and Mulholland to the nearest cypress range for a mast and spar, and on the evening of that day some blacks had visited us; but they sat on the bank of the river, preserving a most determined silence; and, at length, left us abruptly, and apparently in great ill humour. In the disposition of the loads, I placed all the flour, the tea, and tobacco, in the whaleboat. The meat-casks, still, and carpenters' tools, were put into the small boat.

As soon as the different arrangements were completed, I collected the men, and told off those who were to accompany me. I then gave the rest over in charge to Harris, and, in adverting to their regular conduct hitherto, trusted they would be equally careful while under his orders. I then directed the last remaining sheep to be equally divided among us; and it was determined that, for fear of accidents, Harris should remain stationary for a week, at the expiration of which time, he would be at liberty to proceed to Goulburn Plains, there to receive his instructions from Sydney; while the boats were to proceed at an early hour of the morning down the river,—whether ever to return again being a point of the greatest uncertainty.

CHAPTER IV.

Embarkation of the party in the boats, and voyage down the Morumbidgee—The skiff swamped by striking on a sunken tree—Recovery of boat and its loading—Region of reeds—Dangers of the navigation—Contraction of the channel—Reach the junction of a large river—Intercourse with the natives on its banks—Character of the country below the junction of the rivers—Descent of a dangerous rapid—Warlike demonstrations of a tribe of natives—Unexpected deliverance from a conflict with them—Junction of another river—Give the name of the "Murray" to the principal stream.

The camp was a scene of bustle and confusion long before day-light. The men whom I had selected to accompany me were in high spirits, and so eager to commence their labours that they had been unable to sleep, but busied themselves from the earliest dawn in packing up their various articles of clothing, &c. We were prevented from taking our departure so early as I had intended, by rain that fell about six. At a little after seven, however, the weather cleared up, the morning mists blew over our heads, and the sun struck upon us with his usual fervour. As soon as the minor things were stowed away, we bade adieu to Harris and his party; and shortly after, embarked on the bosom of that stream along the banks of which we had journeyed for so many miles.

Notwithstanding that we only used two oars, our progress down the river was rapid. Hopkinson had arranged the loads so well, that all the party could sit at their ease, and Fraser was posted in the bow of the boat, with gun in hand, to fire at any new bird or beast that we might surprise in our silent progress. The little boat, which I shall henceforward call the skiff, was fastened by a painter to our stern.

SUPPOSED JUNCTION OF LACHLAN.

As the reader will have collected from what has already fallen under his notice, the country near the depot was extensively covered with reeds, beyond which vast plains of polygonum stretched away. From the bed of the river we could not observe the change that took place in it as we passed along, so that we found it necessary to land, from time to time, for the purpose of noting down its general appearance. At about fifteen miles from the depot, we came upon a large creek-junction from the N.E., which I did not doubt to be the one M'Leay and I had crossed on the 25th of December. It was much larger than the creek of the Macquarie, and was capable of holding a very great body of water, although evidently too small to contain all that occasionally rushed from its source. I laid it down as the supposed junction of the Lachlan, since I could not, against the corroborating facts in my possession, doubt its originating in the marshes of that river. Should this, eventually, prove to be the case, the similar termination of the two streams traced by Mr. Oxley will be a singular feature in the geography of the interior.

EMUS—NATIVE TOMB.

We were just about to land, to prepare our dinner, when two emus swam across the river ahead of us. This was an additional inducement for us to land, but we were unfortunately too slow, and the birds escaped us. We had rushed in to the right bank, and found on ascending it, that the reeds with which it had hitherto been lined, had partially ceased. A large plain, similar to those over which we had wandered prior to our gaining the flooded region, stretched away to a considerable distance behind us, and was backed by cypresses and brush. The soil of the plain was a red sandy loam, covered sparingly with salsolae and shrubs; thus indicating that the country still preserved its barren character, and that it is the same from north to south. Among the shrubs we found a tomb that appeared to have been recently constructed. No mound had been raised over the body, but an oval hollow shed occupied the centre of the burial place, that was lined with reeds and bound together with strong net-work. Round this, the usual walks were cut, and the recent traces of women's feet were visible upon them, but we saw no natives, although, from the number and size of the paths that led from the river, in various directions across the plain, I was led to conclude, that, at certain seasons, it is hereabouts numerously frequented. Fraser gathered some rushes similar to those used by the natives of the Darling in the fabrication of their nets, and as they had not before been observed, we judged them, of course, to be a sign of our near approach to that river.

ASPECT OF COUNTRY AND RIVER.

As soon as we had taken a hasty dinner, we again embarked, and pursued our journey. I had hoped, from the appearance of the country to the north of us, although that to the south gave little indication of any change, that we should soon clear the reeds; but at somewhat less than a mile they closed in upon the river, and our frequent examination of the neighbourhood on either side of it only tended to confirm the fact, that we were passing through a country subject to great and extensive inundation. We pulled up at half-past five, and could scarcely find space enough to pitch our tents.

The Morumbidgee kept a decidedly westerly course during the day. Its channel was not so tortuous as we expected to have found it, nor did it offer any obstruction to the passage of the boats. Its banks kept a general height of eight feet, five of which were of alluvial soil, and both its depth and its current were considerable. We calculated having proceeded from 28 to 30 miles, though, perhaps, not more than half that distance in a direct line. No rain fell during the day, but we experienced some heavy squalls from the E.S.E.

THE SKIFF STRIKES AND SINKS—LABOUR IN RECOVERING ARTICLES LOST.

The second day of our journey from the depot was marked by an accident that had well nigh obliged us to abandon the further pursuit of the river, by depriving us of part of our means of carrying it into effect. We had proceeded, as usual, at an early hour in the morning, and not long after we started, fell in with the blacks who had visited us last, and who were now in much better humour than upon that occasion. As they had their women with them, we pushed in to the bank, and distributed some presents, after which we dropped quietly down the river. Its general depth had been such as to offer few obstructions to our progress, but about an hour after we left the natives, the skiff struck upon a sunken log, and immediately filling, went down in about twelve feet of water, The length of the painter prevented any strain upon the whale-boat, but the consequence of so serious an accident at once flashed upon our minds. That we should suffer considerably, we could not doubt, but our object was to get the skiff up with the least possible delay, to prevent the fresh water from mixing with the brine, in the casks of meat. Some short time, however, necessarily elapsed before we could effect this, and when at last the skiff was hauled ashore, we found that we were too late to prevent the mischief that we had anticipated. All the things had been fastened in the boat, but either from the shock, or the force of the current, one of the pork casks, the head of the still, and the greater part of the carpenter's tools, had been thrown out of her. As the success of the expedition might probably depend upon the complete state of the still, I determined to use every effort for its recovery: but I was truly at a loss how to find it; for the waters of the river were extremely turbid. In this dilemma, the blacks would have been of the most essential service, but they were far behind us, so that we had to depend on our own exertions alone. I directed the whale-boat to be moored over the place where the accident had happened, and then used the oars on either side of her, to feel along the bottom of the river, in hopes that by these means we should strike upon the articles we had lost. However unlikely such a measure was to prove successful, we recovered in the course of the afternoon, every thing but the still-head, and a cask of paint. Whenever the oar struck against the substance that appeared, by its sound or feel to belong to us, it was immediately pushed into the sand, and the upper end of the oar being held by two men, another descended by it to the bottom of the river, remaining under water as long as he could, to ascertain what was immediately within arm's length of him. This work was, as may be imagined, most laborious, and the men at length became much exhausted. They would not, however, give up the search for the still head, more especially after M'Leay, in diving, had descended upon it. Had he, by ascertaining his position, left it to us to heave it up, our labours would soon have ended; but, in his anxiety for its recovery, he tried to bring it up, when finding it too heavy, he let it go, and the current again swept it away.

At sunset, we were obliged to relinquish our task, the men complaining of violent head-aches, which the nature of the day increased. Thinking our own efforts would be unavailing, I directed two of the men to go up the river for the blacks, at day-light in the morning, and set the reeds on fire to attract their notice. The day had been cloudy and sultry in the afternoon, the clouds collecting in the N.E.: we heard the distant thunder, and expected to have been deluged with rain. None, however, fell, although we were anxious for moisture to change the oppressive state of the atmosphere. The fire I had kindled raged behind us, and threw dense columns of smoke into the sky, that cast over the landscape a shade of the most dismal gloom. We were not in a humour to admire the picturesque, but soon betook ourselves to rest, and after such a day of labour as that we had undergone, I dispensed with the night guard.

PILFERING OF NATIVES.

In the morning we resumed our search for the still head, which Hopkinson at length fortunately struck with his oar. It had been swept considerably below the place at which M'Leay had dived, or we should most probably have found it sooner. With its recovery, all our fatigues were at once forgotten, and I ordered the breakfast to be got ready preparatory to our reloading the skiff. Fraser and Mulholland, who had left the camp at daylight, had not yet returned. I was sitting in the tent, when Macnamee came to inform me that one of the frying-pans was missing, which had been in use the evening previous, for that he himself had placed it on the stump of a tree, and he therefore supposed a native dog had run away with it. Soon after this, another loss was reported to me, and it was at last discovered that an extensive robbery had been committed upon us during the night, and that, in addition to the frying-pan, three cutlasses, and five tomahawks, with the pea of the steelyards, had been carried away. I was extremely surprised at this instance of daring in the natives, and determined, if possible, to punish it. About ten, Fraser and Mulholland returned with two blacks. Fraser told me he saw several natives on our side of the river, as he was returning, to whom those who were with him spoke, and I felt convinced from their manner and hesitation, that they were aware of the trick that had been played upon us. However, as Fraser had promised them a tomahawk to induce them to accompany him, I fulfilled the promise.

CONTINUE OUR VOYAGE.

Leaving this unlucky spot, we made good about sixteen miles during the afternoon. The river maintained its breadth and depth nor were the reeds continuous upon its banks. We passed several plains that were considerably elevated above the alluvial deposits, and the general appearance of the country induced me strongly to hope that we should shortly get out of the region of reeds, or the great flooded concavity on which we had fixed our depot; but the sameness of vegetation, and the seemingly diminutive size of the timber in the distance, argued against any change for the better in the soil of the interior. Having taken the precaution of shortening the painter of the skiff, we found less difficulty in steering her clear of obstacles, and made rapid progress down the Morumbidgee during the first cool and refreshing hours of the morning. The channel of the river became somewhat less contracted, but still retained sufficient depth for larger boats than ours, and preserved a general westerly course. Although no decline of country was visible to the eye, the current in places ran very strong. It is impossible for me to convey to the reader's mind an idea of the nature of the country through which we passed. On this day the favourable appearances, noticed yesterday, ceased almost as soon as we embarked. On the 10th, reeds lined the banks of the river on both sides, without any break, and waved like gloomy streamers over its turbid waters; while the trees stood leafless and sapless in the midst of them. Wherever we landed, the same view presented itself—a waving expanse of reeds, and a country as flat as it is possible to imagine one. The eye could seldom penetrate beyond three quarters of a mile, and the labour of walking through the reeds was immense; but within our observation all was green and cheerless. The morning had been extremely cold, with a thick haze at E.S.E. About 2 p.m. it came on to rain heavily, so that we did not stir after that hour.

CONTRACTION OF THE CHANNEL.

I had remarked that the Morumbidgee was not, from the depot downwards, so broad or so fine a river as it certainly is at the foot of the mountain ranges, where it gains the level country. The observations of the last two days had impressed upon my mind an idea that it was rapidly falling off, and I began to dread that it would finally terminate in one of those fatal marshes in which the Macquarie and the Lachlan exhaust themselves. My hope of a more favourable issue was considerably damped by the general appearance of the surrounding country; and from the circumstance of our not having as yet passed a single tributary. As we proceeded down the river, its channel gradually contracted, and immense trees that had been swept down it by floods, rendered the navigation dangerous and intricate. Its waters became so turbid, that it was impossible to see objects in it, notwithstanding the utmost diligence on the part of the men.

About noon, we fell in with a large tribe of natives, but had great difficulty in bringing them to visit us. If they had HEARD of white men, we were evidently the first they had ever SEEN. They approached us in the most cautious manner, and were unable to subdue their fears as long as they remained with us. Collectively, these people could not have amounted to less than one hundred and twenty in number.

ANOTHER ACCIDENT.

As we pushed off from the bank, after having stayed with them about half an hour, the whaleboat struck with such violence on a sunken log, that she immediately leaked on her starboard side. Fortunately she was going slowly at the time, or she would most probably have received some more serious injury. One of the men was employed during the remainder of the afternoon in bailing her out, and we stopped sooner than we should otherwise have done, in order to ascertain the extent of damage, and to repair it. The reeds terminated on both sides of the river some time before we pulled up, and the country round the camp was more elevated than usual, and bore the appearance of open forest pasture land, the timber upon it being a dwarf species of box, and the soil a light tenacious earth.

ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY AND OF THE RIVER.

About a mile below our encampment of the 12th, we at length came upon a considerable creek-junction from the S.E. Below it, the river increased both in breadth and depth; banks were lofty and perpendicular, and even the lowest levels were but partially covered with reeds. We met with fewer obstructions in consequence, and pursued our journey with restored confidence. Towards evening a great change also took place in the aspect of the country, which no longer bore general marks of inundation. The level of the interior was broken by a small hill to the right of the stream, but the view from its summit rather damped than encouraged my hopes of any improvement. The country was covered with wood and brush, and the line of the horizon was unbroken by the least swell. We were on an apparently boundless flat, without any fixed point on which to direct our movements, nor was there a single object for the eye to rest upon, beyond the dark and gloomy wood that surrounded us on every side.

Soon after passing this hill, the whale-boat struck upon a line of sunken rocks, but fortunately escaped without injury. Mulholland, who was standing in the bow, was thrown out of her, head foremost, and got a good soaking, but soon recovered himself. The composition of the rock was iron-stone, and it is the first formation that occurs westward of the dividing range. We noticed a few cypresses in the distance, but the general timber was dwarf-box, or flooded-gum, and a few of the acacia longa scattered at great distances. In verifying our position by some lunars, we found ourselves in 142 degrees 46 minutes 30 seconds of east long., and in lat. 35 degrees 25 minutes 15 seconds S. the mean variation of the compass being 4 degrees 10 minutes E. it appearing that we were decreasing the variation as we proceeded westward.

On the 13th, we passed the first running stream that joins the Morumbidgee, in a course of more than 340 miles. It came from the S.E., and made a visible impression on the river at the junction, although in tracing it up, it appeared to be insignificant in itself. The circumstance of these tributaries all occurring on the left, evidenced the level nature of the country to the north. In the afternoon, we passed a dry creek also from the S.E. which must at times throw a vast supply of water into the river, since for many miles below, the latter preserved a breadth of 200 feet, and averaged from 12 to 20 feet in depth, with banks of from 15 to 18 feet in height. Yet, notwithstanding its general equality of depth, several rapids occurred, down which the boats were hurried with great velocity. The body of water in the river continued undiminished, notwithstanding its increased breadth of channel; for which reason I should imagine that it is fed by springs, independently of other supplies. Some few cypresses were again observed, and the character of the distant country resembled, in every particular, that of the interior between the Macquarie and the Darling. The general appearance of the Morumbidgee, from the moment of our starting on the 13th, to a late hour in the afternoon, had been such as to encourage my hopes of ultimate success in tracing it down; but about three o'clock we came to one of those unaccountable and mortifying changes which had already so frequently excited my apprehension. Its channel again suddenly contracted, and became almost blocked up with huge trees, that must have found their way into it down the creeks or junctions we had lately passed. The rapidity of the current increasing at the same time, rendered the navigation perplexing and dangerous. We passed reach after reach, presenting the same difficulties, and were at length obliged to pull up at 5 p.m., having a scene of confusion and danger before us that I did not dare to encounter with the evening's light; for I had not only observed that the men's eye-sight failed them as the sun descended, and that they mistook shadows for objects under water, and VICE-VERSA, but the channel had become so narrow that, although the banks were not of increased height, we were involved in comparative darkness, under a close arch of trees, and a danger was hardly seen ere we were hurried past it, almost without the possibility of avoiding it. The reach at the head of which we stopped, was crowded with the trunks of trees, the branches of which crossed each other in every direction, nor could I hope, after a minute examination of the channel, to succeed in taking the boats safely down so intricate a passage.

DANGEROUS NAVIGATION OF THE MORUMBIDGEE.

We rose in the morning with feelings of apprehension, and uncertainty; and, indeed, with great doubts on our minds whether we were not thus early destined to witness the wreck, and the defeat of the expedition. The men got slowly and cautiously into the boat, and placed themselves so as to leave no part of her undefended. Hopkinson stood at the bow, ready with poles to turn her head from anything upon which she might be drifting. Thus prepared, we allowed her to go with the stream. By extreme care and attention on the part of the men we passed this formidable barrier. Hopkinson in particular exerted himself, and more than once leapt from the boat upon apparently rotten logs of wood, that I should not have judged capable of bearing his weight, the more effectually to save the boat. It might have been imagined that where such a quantity of timber had accumulated, a clearer channel would have been found below, but such was not the case. In every reach we had to encounter fresh difficulties. In some places huge trees lay athwart the stream, under whose arched branches we were obliged to pass; but, generally speaking, they had been carried, roots foremost, by the current, and, therefore, presented so many points to receive us, that, at the rate at which we were going, had we struck full upon any one of them, it would have gone through and through the boat. About noon we stopped to repair, or rather to take down the remains of our awning, which had been torn away; and to breathe a moment from the state of apprehension and anxiety in which our minds had been kept during the morning. About one, we again started. The men looked anxiously out ahead; for the singular change in the river had impressed on them an idea, that we were approaching its termination, or near some adventure. On a sudden, the river took a general southern direction, but, in its tortuous course, swept round to every point of the compass with the greatest irregularity. We were carried at a fearful rate down its gloomy and contracted banks, and, in such a moment of excitement, had little time to pay attention to the country through which we were passing. It was, however, observed, that chalybeate-springs were numerous close to the water's edge. At 3 p.m., Hopkinson called out that we were approaching a junction, and in less than a minute afterwards, we were hurried into a broad and noble river.

JUNCTION OF A LARGE RIVER—CHARACTER OF THE RIVER.

It is impossible for me to describe the effect of so instantaneous a change of circumstances upon us. The boats were allowed to drift along at pleasure, and such was the force with which we had been shot out of the Morumbidgee, that we were carried nearly to the bank opposite its embouchure, whilst we continued to gaze in silent astonishment on the capacious channel we had entered; and when we looked for that by which we had been led into it, we could hardly believe that the insignificant gap that presented itself to us was, indeed, the termination of the beautiful and noble stream, whose course we had thus successfully followed. I can only compare the relief we experienced to that which the seaman feels on weathering the rock upon which he expected his vessel would have struck—to the calm which succeeds moments of feverish anxiety, when the dread of danger is succeeded by the certainty of escape.

To myself personally, the discovery of this river was a circumstance of a particularly gratifying nature, since it not only confirmed the justness of my opinion as to the ultimate fate of the Morumbidgee, and bore me out in the apparently rash and hasty step I had taken at the depot, but assured me of ultimate success in the duty I had to perform. We had got on the high road, as it were, either to the south coast, or to some important outlet; and the appearance of the river itself was such as to justify our most sanguine expectations. I could not doubt its being the great channel of the streams from the S.E. angle of the island. Mr. Hume had mentioned to me that he crossed three very considerable streams, when employed with Mr. Hovell in 1823 in penetrating towards Port Phillips, to which the names of the Goulburn, the Hume, and the Ovens, had been given; and as I was 300 miles from the track these gentlemen had pursued, I considered it more than probable that those rivers must already have formed a junction above me, more especially when I reflected that the convexity of the mountains to the S.E. would necessarily direct the waters falling inwards from them to a common centre.

We entered the new river at right angles, and, as I have remarked, at the point of junction the channel of the Morumbidgee had narrowed so as to bear all the appearance of an ordinary creek. In breadth it did not exceed fifty feet, and if, instead of having passed down it, I had been making my way up the principal streams, I should little have dreamt that so dark and gloomy an outlet concealed a river that would lead me to the haunts of civilized man, and whose fountains rose amidst snow-clad mountains. Such, however, is the characteristic of the streams falling to the westward of the coast ranges. Descending into a low and level interior, and depending on their immediate springs for existence, they fall off, as they increase their distance from the base of the mountains in which they rise, and in their lower branches give little results of the promise they had previously made.

The opinion I have expressed, and which is founded on my personal experience, that the rivers crossed by Messrs. Hovell and Hume had already united above me, was strengthened by the capacity of the stream we had just discovered. It had a medium width of 350 feet, with a depth of from twelve to twenty. Its reaches were from half to three-quarters of a mile in length, and the views upon it were splendid. Of course, as the Morumbidgee entered it from the north, its first reach must have been E. and W., and it was so, as nearly as possible; but it took us a little to the southward of the latter point, in a distance of about eight miles that we pulled down it in the course of the afternoon. We then landed and pitched our tents for the night. Its transparent waters were running over a sandy bed at the rate of two-and-a-half knots an hour, and its banks, although averaging eighteen feet in height, were evidently subject to floods.

ABSENCE OF NATIVES.

We had not seen any natives since falling in with the last tribe on the Morumbidgee. A cessation had, therefore, taken place in our communication with them, in re-establishing which I anticipated considerable difficulty. It appeared singular that we should not have fallen in with any for several successive days, more especially at the junction of the two rivers, as in similar situations they generally have an establishment. In examining the country back from the stream, I did not observe any large paths, but it was evident that fires had made extensive ravages in the neighbourhood, so that the country was, perhaps, only temporarily deserted. Macnamee, who had wandered a little from the tents, declared that he had seen about a dozen natives round a fire, from whom (if he really did see them) he very precipitately fled, but I was inclined to discredit his story, because in our journey on the following day, we did not see even a casual wanderer.

WEATHER, TEMPERATURE, &c.

The river maintained its character, and raised our hopes to the highest pitch. Its breadth varied from 160 to 200 yards; and only in one place, where a reef of iron-stone stretched nearly across from the left bank, so as to contract the channel near the right and to form a considerable rapid, was there any apparent obstruction to our navigation. I was sorry, however, to remark that the breadth of alluvial soil between its outer and inner banks was very inconsiderable, and that the upper levels were poor and sandy. Blue-gum generally occupied the former, while the usual productions of the plains still predominated upon the latter, and showed that the distant interior had not yet undergone any favourable change. We experienced strong breezes from the north, but the range of the thermometer was high, and the weather rather oppressive than otherwise. On the night of the 16th, we had a strong wind from the N.W., but it moderated with day-light, and shifted to the E.N.E., and the day was favourable and cool. Our progress was in every way satisfactory, and if any change had taken place in the river, it was that the banks had increased in height, in many places to thirty feet, the soil being a red loam, and the surface much above the reach of floods. The bank opposite to the one that was so elevated, was proportionably low, and, in general, not only heavily timbered, but covered with reeds, and backed by a chain of ponds at the base of the outer embankment.

INTERCOURSE WITH NATIVES.

About 4 p.m., some natives were observed running by the river side behind us, but on our turning the boat's head towards the shore, they ran away. It was evident that they had no idea what we were, and, from their timidity, feeling assured that it would be impossible to bring them to a parley, we continued onwards till our usual hour of stopping, when we pitched our tents on the left bank for the night, it being the one opposite to that on which the natives had appeared. We conjectured that their curiosity would lead them to follow us, which they very shortly did; for we had scarcely made ourselves comfortable when we heard their wild notes through the woods as they advanced towards the river; and their breaking into view with their spears and shields, and painted and prepared as they were for battle, was extremely fine. They stood threatening us, and making a great noise, for a considerable time, but, finding that we took no notice of them, they, at length, became quiet. I then walked to some little distance from the party, and taking a branch in my hand, as a sign of peace, beckoned them to swim to our side of the river, which, after some time, two or three of them did. But they approached me with great caution, hesitating at every step. They soon, however, gained confidence, and were ultimately joined by all the males of their tribe. I gave the FIRST who swam the river a tomahawk (making this a rule in order to encourage them) with which he was highly delighted. I shortly afterwards placed them all in a row and fired a gun before them: they were quite unprepared for such an explosion, and after standing stupified and motionless for a moment or two, they simultaneously took to their heels, to our great amusement. I succeeded, however, in calling them back, and they regained their confidence so much, that sixteen of them remained with us all night, but the greater number retired at sunset.

On the following morning, they accompanied us down the river, where we fell in with their tribe, who were stationed on an elevated bank a short distance below—to the number of eighty-three men, women, and children. Their appearance was extremely picturesque and singular. They wanted us to land, but time was too precious for such delays. Some of the boldest of the natives swam round and round the boat so as to impede the use of the oars, and the women on the bank evinced their astonishment by mingled yells and cries. They entreated us, by signs, to remain with them, but, as I foresaw a compliance on this occasion would hereafter be attended with inconvenience, I thought it better to proceed on our journey, and the natives soon ceased their importunities, and, indeed, did not follow or molest us.

ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY AND OF THE RIVER BANKS.

The river improved upon us at every mile. Its reaches were of noble breadth, and splendid appearance. Its current was stronger, and it was fed by numerous springs. Rocks, however, were more frequent in its bed, and in two places almost formed a barrier across the channel, leaving but a narrow space for the boats to go down. We passed several elevations of from 70 to 90 feet in height, at the base of which the stream swept along. The soil of these elevations was a mixture of clay (marl) and sand, upon coarse sandstone. Their appearance and the manner in which they had been acted upon by water, was singular, and afforded a proof of the violence of the rains in this part of the interior. From the highest of these, I observed that the country to the S.E. was gently undulated, and so far changed in character from that through which we had been travelling; still, however, it was covered with a low scrub, and was barren and unpromising.

About noon of the 18th, we surprised two women at the water-side, who immediately retreated into the brush. Shortly after, four men showed themselves, and followed us for a short distance, but hid themselves upon our landing. The country still appeared undulated to the S.E.; the soil was sandy, and cypresses more abundant than any other tree. We passed several extensive sand-banks in the river, of unusual size and solidity, an evident proof of the sandy nature of the interior generally. The vast accumulations of sand at the junctions of every creek were particularly remarkable. The timber on the alluvial flats was not by any means so large as we had hitherto observed it; nor were the flats themselves so extensive as they are on the Morumbidgee and the Macquarie. Notwithstanding the aspect of the country which I have described, no POSITIVE change had as yet taken place in the general feature of the interior. The river continued to flow in a direction somewhat to the northward of west, through a country that underwent no perceptible alteration. Its waters, confined to their immediate bed, swept along considerably below the level of its inner banks; and the spaces between them and the outer ones, though generally covered with reeds, seemed not recently to have been flooded; while on the other hand, they had, in many places, from successive depositions, risen to a height far above the reach of inundation. Still, however, the more remote interior maintained its sandy and sterile character, and stretched away, in alternate plain and wood, to a distance far beyond the limits of our examination.

About the 21st, a very evident change took place in it. The banks of the river suddenly acquired a perpendicular and water-worn appearance. Their summits were perfectly level, and no longer confined by a secondary embankment, but preserved an uniform equality of surface back from the stream. These banks, although so abrupt, were not so high as the upper levels, or secondary embankments. They indicated a deep alluvial deposit, and yet, being high above the reach of any ordinary flood, were covered with grass, under an open box forest, into which a moderately dense scrub occasionally penetrated. We had fallen into a concavity similar to those of the marshes, but successive depositions had almost filled it, and no longer subject to inundation, it had lost all the character of those flooded tracts. The kind of country I have been describing, lay rather to the right than to the left of the river at this place, the latter continuing low and swampy, as if the country to the south of the river were still subject to inundation. As the expedition proceeded, the left bank gradually assumed the appearance of the right; both looked water-worn and perpendicular, and though not more than from nine to ten feet in height, their summits were perfectly level in receding, and bore diminutive box-timber, with widely-scattered vegetation. Not a single elevation had, as yet, broken the dark and gloomy monotony of the interior; but as our observations were limited to a short distance from the river, our surmises on the nature of the distant country were necessarily involved in some uncertainty.

THREATENED ATTACK—AMICABLE CONFERENCE.

On the 19th, as we were about to conclude our journey for the day, we saw a large body of natives before us. On approaching them, they showed every disposition for combat, and ran along the bank with spears in rests, as if only waiting for an opportunity to throw them at us. They were upon the right, and as the river was broad enough to enable me to steer wide of them, I did not care much for their threats; but upon another party appearing upon the left bank, I thought it high time to disperse one or the other of them, as the channel was not wide enough to enable me to keep clear of danger, if assailed by both, as I might be while keeping amid the channel. I found, however, that they did not know how to use the advantage they possessed, as the two divisions formed a junction; those on the left swimming over to the stronger body upon the right bank. This, fortunately, prevented the necessity of any hostile measure on my part, and we were suffered to proceed unmolested, for the present. The whole then followed us without any symptom of fear, but making a dreadful shouting, and beating their spears and shields together, by way of intimidation. It is but justice to my men to say that in this critical situation they evinced the greatest coolness, though it was impossible for any one to witness such a scene with indifference. As I did not intend to fatigue the men by continuing to pull farther than we were in the habit of doing, we landed at our usual time on the left bank, and while the people were pitching the tents, I walked down the bank with M'Leay, to treat with these desperadoes in the best way we could, across the water, a measure to which my men showed great reluctance, declaring that if during our absence the natives approached them, they would undoubtedly fire upon them. I assured them it was not my intention to go out of their sight. We took our guns with us, but determined not to use them until the last extremity, both from a reluctance to shed blood and with a view to our future security. I held a long pantomimical dialogue with them, across the water, and held out the olive branch in token of amity. They at length laid aside their spears, and a long consultation took place among them, which ended in two or three wading into the river, contrary, as it appeared, to the earnest remonstrances of the majority, who, finding that their entreaties had no effect, wept aloud, and followed them with a determination, I am sure, of sharing their fate, whatever it might have been. As soon as they landed, M'Leay and I retired to a little distance from the bank, and sat down; that being the usual way among the natives of the interior, to invite to an interview. When they saw us act thus, they approached, and sat down by us, but without looking up, from a kind of diffidence peculiar to them, and which exists even among the nearest relatives, as I have already had occasion to observe. As they gained confidence, however, they showed an excessive curiosity, and stared at us in the most earnest manner. We now led them to the camp, and I gave, as was my custom, the first who had approached, a tomahawk; and to the others, some pieces of iron hoop. Those who had crossed the river amounted to about thirty-five in number. At sunset, the majority of them left us; but three old men remained at the fire-side all night. I observed that few of them had either lost their front teeth or lacerated their bodies, as the more westerly tribes do. The most loathsome diseases prevailed among them. Several were disabled by leprosy, or some similar disorder, and two or three had entirely lost their sight. They are, undoubtedly, a brave and a confiding people, and are by no means wanting in natural affection. In person, they resemble the mountain tribes. They had the thick lip, the sunken eye, the extended nostril, and long beards, and both smooth and curly hair are common among them. Their lower extremities appear to bear no proportion to their bust in point of muscular strength; but the facility with which they ascend trees of the largest growth, and the activity with which they move upon all occasions, together with their singularly erect stature, argue that such appearance is entirely deceptive.

INTERCOURSE WITH NATIVES.

The old men slept very soundly by the fire, and were the last to get up in the morning. M'Leay's extreme good humour had made a most favourable impression upon them, and I can picture him, even now, joining in their wild song. Whether it was from his entering so readily into their mirth, or from anything peculiar that struck them, the impression upon the whole of us was, that they took him to have been originally a black, in consequence of which they gave him the name of Rundi. Certain it is, they pressed him to show his side, and asked if he had not received a wound there—evidently as if the original Rundi had met with a violent death from a spear-wound in that place. The whole tribe, amounting in number to upwards of 150, assembled to see us take our departure. Four of them accompanied us, among whom there was one remarkable for personal strength and stature.—The 21st passed without our falling in with any new tribe, and the night of the 22nd, saw us still wandering in that lonely desert together. There was something unusual in our going through such an extent of country without meeting another tribe, but our companions appeared to be perfectly aware of the absence of inhabitants, as they never left our side.

Although the banks of the river had been of general equality of height, sandy elevations still occasionally formed a part of them, and their summits were considerably higher than the alluvial flats.

RAPID IN THE RIVER—DANGEROUS DESCENT OF THE BOATS.

It was upon the crest of one of these steep and lofty banks, that on the morning of the 22nd, the natives who were a-head of the boat, suddenly stopped to watch our proceedings down a foaming rapid that ran beneath. We were not aware of the danger to which we were approaching, until we turned an angle of the river, and found ourselves too near to retreat. In such a moment, without knowing what was before them, the coolness of the men was strikingly exemplified. No one even spoke after they became aware that silence was necessary. The natives (probably anticipating misfortune) stood leaning upon their spears upon the lofty bank above us. Desiring the men not to move from their seats, I stood up to survey the channel, and to steer the boat to that part of it which was least impeded by rocks. I was obliged to decide upon a hasty survey, as we were already at the head of the rapid. It appeared to me that there were two passages, the one down the centre of the river, the other immediately under its right bank. A considerable rock stood directly in own way to the latter, so that I had no alternative but to descend the former. About forty yards below the rock, I noticed that a line of rocks occupied the space between the two channels, whilst a reef, projecting from the left bank, made the central passage distinctly visible, and the rapidity of the current proportionably great. I entertained hopes that the passage was clear, and that we should shoot down it without interruption; but in this I was disappointed. The boat struck with the fore-part of her keel on a sunken rock, and, swinging round as it were on a pivot, presented her bow to the rapid, while the skiff floated away into the strength of it. We had every reason to anticipate the loss of our whale-boat, whose build was so light, that had her side struck the rock, instead of her keel, she would have been laid open from stem to stern. As it was, however, she remained fixed in her position, and it only remained for us to get her off the best way we could. I saw that this could only be done by sending two of the men with a rope to the upper rock, and getting the boat, by that means, into the still water, between that and the lower one. We should then have time to examine the channels, and to decide as to that down which it would be safest to proceed. My only fear was, that the loss of the weight of the two men would lighten the boat so much, that she would be precipitated down the rapid without my having any command over her; but it happened otherwise. We succeeded in getting her into the still water, and ultimately took her down the channel under the right bank, without her sustaining any injury. A few miles below this rapid the river took a singular bend, and we found, after pulling several miles, that we were within a stone's throw of a part of the stream we had already sailed down.

The four natives joined us in the camp, and assisted the men at their various occupations. The consequence was, that they were treated with more than ordinary kindness; and Fraser, for his part, in order to gratify these favoured guests, made great havoc among the feathered race. He returned after a short ramble with a variety of game, among which were a crow, a kite, and a laughing jackass (alcedo gigantea,) a species of king's-fisher, a singular bird, found in every part of Australia. Its cry, which resembles a chorus of wild spirits, is apt to startle the traveller who may be in jeopardy, as if laughing and mocking at his misfortune. It is a harmless bird, and I seldom allowed them to be destroyed, as they were sure to rouse us with the earliest dawn. To this list of Fraser's spoils, a duck and a tough old cockatoo, must be added. The whole of these our friends threw on the fire without the delay of plucking, and snatched them from that consuming element ere they were well singed, and devoured them with uncommon relish.

DESERTED NATIVE VILLAGE.

We pitched our tents upon a flat of good and tenacious soil. A brush, in which there was a new species of melaleuca, backed it, in the thickest part of which we found a deserted native village. The spot was evidently chosen for shelter. The huts were large and long, all facing the same point of the compass, and in every way resembling the huts occupied by the natives of the Darling. Large flocks of whistling ducks, and other wild fowl, flew over our heads to the N.W., as if making their way to some large or favourite waters. My observations placed us in lat. 34 degrees 8 minutes 15 seconds south, and in east long. 141 degrees 9 minutes 42 seconds or nearly so; and I was at a loss to conceive what direction the river would ultimately take. We were considerably to the N.W. of the point at which we had entered it, and in referring to the chart, it appeared, that if the Darling had kept a S.W. course from where the last expedition left its banks, we ought ere this to have struck upon it, or have arrived at its junction with the stream on which we were journeying.

CONVERSING BY SIGNS.

The natives, in attempting to answer my interrogatories, only perplexed me more and more. They evidently wished to explain something, by placing a number of sticks across each other as a kind of diagram of the country. It was, however, impossible to arrive at their meaning. They undoubtedly pointed to the westward, or rather to the south of that point, as the future course of the river; but there was something more that they were anxious to explain, which I could not comprehend. The poor fellows seemed quite disappointed, and endeavoured to beat it into Fraser's head with as little success. I then desired Macnamee to get up into a tree. From the upper branches of it he said he could see hills; but his account of their appearance was such that I doubted his story: nevertheless it might have been correct. He certainly called our attention to a large fire, as if the country to the N.W. was in flames, so that it appeared we were approaching the haunts of the natives at last.

It happened that Fraser and Harris were for guard, and they sat up laughing and talking with the natives long after we retired to rest. Fraser, to beguile the hours, proposed shaving his sable companions, and performed that operation with admirable dexterity upon their chief, to his great delight. I got up at an early hour, and found to my surprise that the whole of them had deserted us. Harris told me they had risen from the fire about an hour before, and had crossed the river. I was a little angry, but supposed they were aware that we were near some tribe, and had gone on a-head to prepare and collect them.

LARGE CONCOURSE OF NATIVES—THEIR HOSTILE DEMEANOUR.

After breakfast, we proceeded onwards as usual. The river had increased so much in width that, the wind being fair, I hoisted sail for the first time, to save the strength of my men as much as possible. Our progress was consequently rapid. We passed through a country that, from the nature of its soil and other circumstances, appeared to be intersected by creeks and lagoons. Vast flights of wild fowl passed over us, but always at a considerable elevation, while, on the other hand, the paucity of ducks on the river excited our surprise. Latterly, the trees upon the river, and in its neighbourhood, had been a tortuous kind of box. The flooded-gum grew in groups on the spaces subject to inundation, but not on the levels above the influence of any ordinary rise of the stream. Still they were much smaller than they were observed to be in the higher branches of the river. We had proceeded about nine miles, when we were surprised by the appearance in view, at the termination of a reach, of a long line of magnificent trees of green and dense foliage. As we sailed down the reach, we observed a vast concourse of natives under them, and, on a nearer approach, we not only heard their war-song, if it might so be called, but remarked that they were painted and armed, as they generally are, prior to their engaging in deadly conflict. Notwithstanding these outward signs of hostility, fancying that our four friends were with them, I continued to steer directly in for the bank on which they were collected. I found, however, when it was almost too late to turn into the succeeding reach to our left, that an attempt to land would only be attended with loss of life. The natives seemed determined to resist it. We approached so near that they held their spears quivering in their grasp ready to hurl. They were painted in various ways. Some who had marked their ribs, and thighs, and faces with a white pigment, looked like skeletons, others were daubed over with red and yellow ochre, and their bodies shone with the grease with which they had besmeared themselves. A dead silence prevailed among the front ranks, but those in the back ground, as well as the women, who carried supplies of darts, and who appeared to have had a bucket of whitewash capsized over their heads, were extremely clamorous. As I did not wish a conflict with these people, I lowered my sail, and putting the helm to starboard, we passed quietly down the stream in mid channel. Disappointed in their anticipations, the natives ran along the bank of the river, endeavouring to secure an aim at us; but, unable to throw with certainty, in consequence of the onward motion of the boat, they flung themselves into the most extravagant attitudes, and worked themselves into a state of frenzy by loud and vehement shouting.

PREPARATIONS FOR CONFLICT—UNEXPECTED INTERFERENCE.

It was with considerable apprehension that I observed the river to be shoaling fast, more especially as a huge sand-bank, a little below us, and on the same side on which the natives had gathered, projected nearly a third-way across the channel. To this sand-bank they ran with tumultuous uproar, and covered it over in a dense mass. Some of the chiefs advanced to the water to be nearer their victims, and turned from time to time to direct their followers. With every pacific disposition, and an extreme reluctance to take away life, I foresaw that it would be impossible any longer to avoid an engagement, yet with such fearful numbers against us, I was doubtful of the result. The spectacle we had witnessed had been one of the most appalling kind, and sufficient to shake the firmness of most men; but at that trying moment my little band preserved their temper coolness, and if any thing could be gleaned from their countenances, it was that they had determined on an obstinate resistance. I now explained to them that their only chance of escape depended, or would depend, on their firmness. I desired that after the first volley had been fired, M'Leay and three of the men, would attend to the defence of the boat with bayonets only, while I, Hopkinson, and Harris, would keep up the fire as being more used to it. I ordered, however, that no shot was to be fired until after I had discharged both my barrels. I then delivered their arms to the men, which had as yet been kept in the place appropriated for them, and at the same time some rounds of loose cartridge. The men assured me they would follow my instructions, and thus prepared, having already lowered the sail, we drifted onwards with the current. As we neared the sand-bank, I stood up and made signs to the natives to desist; but without success. I took up my gun, therefore, and cocking it, had already brought it down to a level. A few seconds more would have closed the life of the nearest of the savages. The distance was too trifling for me to doubt the fatal effects of the discharge; for I was determined to take deadly aim, in hopes that the fall of one man might save the lives of many. But at the very moment, when my hand was on the trigger, and my eye was along the barrel, my purpose was checked by M'Leay, who called to me that another party of blacks had made their appearance upon the left bank of the river. Turning round, I observed four men at the top of their speed. The foremost of them as soon as he got a-head of the boat, threw himself from a considerable height into the water. He struggled across the channel to the sand-bank, and in an incredibly short space of time stood in front of the savage, against whom my aim had been directed. Seizing him by the throat, he pushed backwards, and forcing all who were in the water upon the bank, he trod its margin with a vehemence and an agitation that were exceedingly striking. At one moment pointing to the boat, at another shaking his clenched hand in the faces of the most forward, and stamping with passion on the sand; his voice, that was at first distinct and clear, was lost in hoarse murmurs. Two of the four natives remained on the left bank of the river, but the third followed his leader, (who proved to be the remarkable savage I have previously noticed) to the scene of action. The reader will imagine our feelings on this occasion: it is impossible to describe them. We were so wholly lost in interest at the scene that was passing, that the boat was allowed to drift at pleasure. For my own part I was overwhelmed with astonishment, and in truth stunned and confused; so singular, so unexpected, and so strikingly providential, had been our escape.

JUNCTION OF ANOTHER STREAM—PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE FROM DANGER.

We were again roused to action by the boat suddenly striking upon a shoal, which reached from one side of the river to the other. To jump out and push her into deeper water was but the work of a moment with the men, and it was just as she floated again that our attention was withdrawn to a new and beautiful stream, coming apparently from the north. The great body of the natives having posted themselves on the narrow tongue of land formed by the two rivers, the bold savage who had so unhesitatingly interfered on our account, was still in hot dispute with them, and I really feared his generous warmth would have brought down upon him the vengeance of the tribes. I hesitated, therefore, whether or not to go to his assistance. It appeared, however, both to M'Leay and myself, that the tone of the natives had moderated, and the old and young men having listened to the remonstrances of our friend, the middle-aged warriors were alone holding out against him. A party of about seventy blacks were upon the right bank of the newly discovered river, and I thought that by landing among them, we should make a diversion in favour of our late guest; and in this I succeeded. If even they had still meditated violence, they would have to swim a good broad junction, and that, probably, would cool them, or we at least should have the advantage of position. I therefore, ran the boat ashore, and landed with M'Leay amidst the smaller party of natives, wholly unarmed, and having directed the men to keep at a little distance from the bank. Fortunately, what I anticipated was brought about by the stratagem to which I had had recourse. The blacks no sooner observed that we had landed, than curiosity took place of anger. All wrangling ceased, and they came swimming over to us like a parcel of seals. Thus, in less than a quarter of an hour from the moment when it appeared that all human intervention was at on end, and we were on the point of commencing a bloody fray, which, independently of its own disastrous consequences, would have blasted the success of the expedition, we were peacefully surrounded by the hundreds who had so lately threatened us with destruction; nor was it until after we had returned to the boat, and had surveyed the multitude upon the sloping bank above us, that we became fully aware of the extent of our danger, and of the almost miraculous intervention of Providence in our favour. There could not have been less than six hundred natives upon that blackened sward. But this was not the only occasion upon which the merciful superintendance of that Providence to which we had humbly committed ourselves, was strikingly manifested. If these pages fail to convey entertainment or information, sufficient may at least be gleaned from them to furnish matter for serious reflection; but to those who have been placed in situations of danger where human ingenuity availed them not, and where human foresight was baffled, I feel persuaded that these remarks are unnecessary.

NEW RIVER, SUPPOSED TO BE THE DARLING.

It was my first care to call for our friend, and to express to him, as well as I could, how much we stood indebted to him, at the same time that I made him a suitable present; but to the chiefs of the tribes, I positively refused all gifts, notwithstanding their earnest solicitations. We next prepared to examine the new river, and turning the boat's head towards it, endeavoured to pull up the stream. Our larboard oars touched the right bank, and the current was too strong for us to conquer it with a pair only; we were, therefore, obliged to put a second upon her, a movement that excited the astonishment and admiration of the natives. One old woman seemed in absolute ecstasy, to whom M'Leay threw an old tin kettle, in recompense for the amusement she afforded us.

HOIST THE UNION JACK.

As soon as we got above the entrance of the new river, we found easier pulling, and proceeded up it for some miles, accompanied by the once more noisy multitude. The river preserved a breadth of one hundred yards, and a depth of rather more than twelve feet. Its banks were sloping and grassy, and were overhung by trees of magnificent size. Indeed, its appearance was so different from the water-worn banks of the sister stream, that the men exclaimed, on entering it, that we had got into an English river. Its appearance certainly almost justified the expression; for the greenness of its banks was as new to us as the size of its timber. Its waters, though sweet, were turbid, and had a taste of vegetable decay, as well as a slight tinge of green. Our progress was watched by the natives with evident anxiety. They kept abreast of us, and talked incessantly. At length, however, our course was checked by a net that stretched right across the stream. I say checked, because it would have been unfair to have passed over it with the chance of disappointing the numbers who apparently depended on it for subsistence that day. The moment was one of intense interest to me. As the men rested upon their oars, awaiting my further orders, a crowd of thoughts rushed upon me. The various conjectures I had formed of the course and importance of the Darling passed across my mind. Were they indeed realized? An irresistible conviction impressed me that we were now sailing on the bosom of that very stream from whose banks I had been twice forced to retire. I directed the Union Jack to be hoisted, and giving way to our satisfaction, we all stood up in the boat, and gave three distinct cheers. It was an English feeling, an ebullition, an overflow, which I am ready to admit that our circumstances and situation will alone excuse. The eye of every native had been fixed upon that noble flag, at all times a beautiful object, and to them a novel one, as it waved over us in the heart of a desert. They had, until that moment been particularly loquacious, but the sight of that flag and the sound of our voices hushed the tumult, and while they were still lost in astonishment, the boat's head was speedily turned, the sail was sheeted home, both wind and current were in our favour, and we vanished from them with a rapidity that surprised even ourselves, and which precluded every hope of the most adventurous among them to keep up with us.

CHAPTER V.

Character of the country—Damage of provisions—Adroitness of the natives in catching fish—The skiff broken up—Stream from the North-East supposed to be the Darling—Change of country in descending the river—Intercourse with the natives—Prevalence of loathsome diseases among them—Apparent populousness of the country—Junction of several small streams—The Rufus, the Lindesay, &c.—Rainy and tempestuous weather—Curious appearance of the banks—Troublesomeness of the natives—Inhospitable and desolate aspect of the country—Condition of the men—Change in the geological character of the country—The river passes through a valley among hills.

Arrived once more at the junction of the two rivers, and unmolested in our occupations, we had leisure to examine it more closely. Not having as yet given a name to our first discovery, when we re-entered its capacious channel on this occasion, I laid it down as the Murray River, in compliment to the distinguished officer, Sir George Murray, who then presided over the colonial department, not only in compliance with the known wishes of his Excellency General Darling, but also in accordance with my own feelings as a soldier.

The new river, whether the Darling or an additional discovery, meets its more southern rival on a N. by E. course; the latter, running W.S.W. at the confluence, the angle formed by the two rivers, is, therefore, so small that both may be considered to preserve their proper course, and neither can be said to be tributary to the other. At their junction, the Murray spreads its waters over the broad and sandy shore, upon which our boat grounded, while its more impetuous neighbour flows through the deep but narrow channel it has worked out for itself, under the right bank. The strength of their currents must have been nearly equal, since there was as distinct a line between their respective waters, to a considerable distance below the junction, as if a thin board alone separated them. The one half the channel contained the turbid waters of the northern stream, the other still preserved their original transparency.

INUNDATED AND ALLUVIAL COUNTRY.

The banks of the Murray did not undergo any immediate change as we proceeded. We noticed that the country had, at some time, been subject to extensive inundation, and was, beyond doubt, of alluvial formation. We passed the mouths of several large creeks that came from the north and N.W., and the country in those directions seemed to be much intersected by water-courses; while to the south it was extremely low. Having descended several minor rapids, I greatly regretted that we had no barometer to ascertain the actual dip of the interior. I computed, however, that we were not more than from eighty to ninety feet above the level of the sea. We found the channel of the Murray much encumbered with timber, and noticed some banks of sand that were of unusual size, and equalled the largest accumulations of it on the sea shore, both in extent and solidity.

STATE OF PROVISIONS.

We would gladly have fired into the flights of wild fowl that winged their way over us, for we, about this time, began to feel the consequences of the disaster that befell us in the Morumbidgee. The fresh water having got mixed with the brine in the meat casks, the greater part of our salt provisions had got spoiled, so that we were obliged to be extremely economical in the expenditure of what remained, as we knew not to what straits we might be driven. It will naturally be asked why we did not procure fish? The answer is easy. The men had caught many in the Morumbidgee, and on our first navigation of the Murray, but whether it was that they had disagreed with them, or that their appetites were palled, or that they were too fatigued after the labour of the day to set the lines, they did not appear to care about them. The only fish we could take was the common cod or perch; and, without sauce or butter, it is insipid enough. We occasionally exchanged pieces of iron-hoop for two other kinds of fish, the one a bream, the other a barbel, with the natives, and the eagerness with which they met our advances to barter, is a strong proof of their natural disposition towards this first step in civilization.

DEXTERITY OF NATIVES IN FISHING.

As they threw off all reserve when accompanying us as ambassadors, we had frequent opportunities of observing their habits. The facility, for instance, with which they procured fish was really surprising. They would slip, feet foremost, into the water as they walked along the bank of the river, as if they had accidentally done so, but, in reality, to avoid the splash they would necessarily have made if they had plunged in head foremost. As surely as they then disappeared under the surface of the water, so surely would they re-appear with a fish writhing upon the point of their short spears. The very otter scarcely exceeds them in power over the finny race, and so true is the aim of these savages, even under water, that all the fish we procured from them were pierced either close behind the lateral fin, or in the very centre of the head, It is certain, from their indifference to them, that the natives seldom eat fish when they can get anything else. Indeed, they seemed more anxious to take the small turtle, which, sunning themselves on the trunks or logs of trees over the water, were, nevertheless, extremely on their guard. A gentle splash alone indicated to us that any thing had dropped into the water, but the quick eyes and ears of our guides immediately detected what had occasioned it, and they seldom failed to take the poor little animal that had so vainly trusted to its own watchfulness for security. It appeared that the natives did not, from choice, frequent the Murray; it was evident, therefore, that they had other and better means of subsistence away from it, and it struck me, at the time, that the river we had just passed watered a better country than any through which the Murray had been found to flow.

BREAK UP THE SKIFF.

We encamped rather earlier than usual upon the left bank of the river, near a broad creek; for as the skiff had been a great drag upon us, I determined on breaking it up, since there was no probability that we should ever require the still, which alone remained in her. We, consequently, burnt the former, to secure her nails and iron work, and I set Clayton about cutting the copper of the latter into the shape of crescents, in order to present them to the natives. Some large huts were observed on the side of the creek, a little above the camp, the whole of which faced the N.E. This arrangement had previously been noticed by us, so that I was led to infer that the severest weather comes from the opposite quarter in this part of the interior. I had not the least idea, at the time, however, that we should, ere we reached the termination of our journey, experience the effects of the S.W. winds.

We must have fallen considerably during the day from the level of our morning's position, for we passed down many reaches where the decline of country gave an increased velocity to the current of the river.

I had feared, not only in consequence of the unceremonious manner in which we had left them, but, because I had, in some measure, rejected the advances of their chiefs, that none of the natives would follow us, and I regretted the circumstance on account of my men, as well as the trouble we should necessarily have in conciliating the next tribe. We had not, however, been long encamped, when seven blacks joined us. I think they would have passed on if we had not called to them. As it was, they remained with us but for a short time. We treated them very kindly, but they were evidently under constraint, and were, no doubt, glad when they found we did not object to their departing.

NEW RIVER IDENTIFIED WITH THE DARLING.

I have stated, that I felt satisfied in my own mind, that the beautiful stream we had passed was no other than the river Darling of my former journey. The bare assertion, however, is not sufficient to satisfy the mind of the reader, upon a point of such importance, more especially when it is considered how remarkable a change the Darling must have undergone, if this were indeed a continuation of it. I am free to confess that it required an effort to convince myself, but after due consideration, I see no reason to alter the opinion I formed at a moment of peculiar embarrassment. Yet it by no means follows that I shall convince others, although I am myself convinced. The question is one of curious speculation, and the consideration of it will lead us to an interesting conjecture, as to the probable nature of the distant interior, between the two points. It will be remembered that I was obliged to relinquish my pursuit of the Darling, in east long. 144 degrees 48 minutes 30 seconds in lat. 30 degrees 17 minutes 30 seconds south. I place the junction of the Murray and the new river, in long. 140 degrees 56 minutes east, and in south lat. 34 degrees 3 minutes. I must remark, however, that the lunars I took on this last occasion, were not satisfactory, and that there is, probably, an error, though not a material one, in the calculation. Before I measure the distance between the above points, or make any remarks on the results of my own observations, I would impress the following facts upon the reader's mind.

I found and left the Darling in a complete state of exhaustion. As a river it had ceased to flow; the only supply it received was from brine springs, which, without imparting a current, rendered its waters saline and useless, and lastly, the fish in it were different from those inhabiting the other known rivers of the interior. It is true, I did not procure a perfect specimen of one, but we satisfactorily ascertained that they were different, inasmuch as they had large and strong scales, whereas the fish in the western waters have smooth skins. On the other hand, the waters of the new river were sweet, although turbid; it had a rapid current in it; and its fish were of the ordinary kind. In the above particulars, therefore, they differed much as they could well differ. Yet there were some strong points of resemblance in the appearance of the rivers themselves, which were more evident to me than I can hope to make them to the reader. Both were shaded by trees of the same magnificent dimensions; and the same kind of huts were erected on the banks of each, inhabited by the same description, or race, of people, whose weapons, whose implements, and whose nets corresponded in most respects.

We will now cast our eyes over the chart: and see if the position of the two rivers upon it, will at all bear out our conclusion that they are one and the same; and whether the line that would join them is the one that the Darling would naturally take, in reference to its previous course.—We shall find that the two points under discussion, bear almost N.E. and S.W. of each other respectively, the direct line in which the Darling had been ascertained to flow, as far as it had been found practicable to trace it. I have already remarked that the fracture of my barometer prevented my ascertaining the height of the bed of the Darling above the sea, during the first expedition. A similar accident caused me equal disappointment on the second; because one of the most important points upon which I was engaged was to ascertain the dip of the interior. I believe I stated, in its proper place, that I did not think the Darling could possibly be 200 feet above the sea, and as far as my observations bear me out, I should estimate the bed of the Murray, at its junction with the new river, to be within 100. It would appear that there is a distance of 300 miles between the Murray River at this place, and the Darling; a space amply sufficient for the intervention of a hilly country. No one could have been more attentive to the features of the interior than I was; nor could any one have dwelt upon their peculiarities with more earnest attention. It were hazardous to build up any new theory, however ingenious it may appear. The conclusions into which I have been led, are founded on actual observation of the country through which I passed, and extend not beyond my actual range of vision; unless my assuming that the decline of the interior to the south has been satisfactorily established, be considered premature. If not, the features of the country certainly justify my deductions; and it will be found that they were still more confirmed by subsequent observation.—That the Darling should have lost its current in its upper branches, is not surprising, when the level nature of the country into which it falls is taken into consideration; neither does it surprise me that it should be stationary in one place, and flowing in another; since, if, as in the present instance, there is a great extent of country between the two points, which may perhaps be of considerable elevation, the river may receive tributaries, whose waters will of course follow the general decline of the country. I take it to be so in the case before us; and am of opinion, that the lower branches of the Darling are not at all dependent on its sources for a current, or for a supply of water. I have somewhere observed that it appeared to me the depressed interior over which I had already travelled, was of comparatively recent formation. And, by whatever convulsion or change so extensive a tract became exposed, I cannot but infer, that the Darling is the main channel by which the last waters of the ocean were drained off. The bottom of the estuary, for it cannot be called a valley, being then left exposed, it consequently remains the natural and proper reservoir for the streams from the eastward, or those falling easterly from the westward, if any such remain to be discovered.

From the junction of the Morumbidgee to the junction of the new river, the Murray had held a W.N.W. course. From the last junction it changed its direction to the S.W., and increased considerably in size. The country to the south was certainly lower than that to the north; for, although both banks had features common to each other, the flooded spaces were much more extensive to our left than to our right.

CHANGE OF COUNTRY.

We started on the morning of the 24th, all the lighter from having got rid of the skiff, and certainly freer to act in case the natives should evince a hostile disposition towards us. As we proceeded down the river, the appearances around us more and more plainly indicated a change of country. Cypresses were observed in the distance, and the ground on which they stood was higher than that near the stream; as if it had again acquired its secondary banks. At length these heights approached the river so nearly as to form a part of its banks, and to separate one alluvial flat from another. Their summits were perfectly level; their soil was a red sandy loam; and their productions, for the most part, salsolae and misembrianthemum. From this it would appear that we had passed through a second region, that must at some time have been under water, and that still retained all the marks of a country partially subject to flood.

INTRODUCED FROM TRIBE TO TRIBE.

We had, as I have said, passed over this region, and were again hemmed in by those sandy and sterile tracts upon which the beasts of the field could obtain neither food nor water. We overtook the seven deputies some time after we started, but soon lost sight of them again, as they cut off the sweeps of the river, and shortened their journey as much as possible. At 2 p.m. we found them with a tribe of their countrymen, about eighty in number. We pulled in to the bank and remained with them for a short time, and I now determined to convince the blacks who had preceded us, that I had not been actuated by any other desire than that of showing to them that we were not to be intimidated by numbers, when I refused to make them any presents after their show of hostility. I now, therefore, gave them several implements, sundry pieces of iron hoop, and an ornamental badge of copper. When we left the tribe, we were regularly handed over to their care. The seven men who had introduced us, went back at the same time that we continued our journey, and two more belonging to the new tribe, went on a-head to prepare the the neighbouring tribe to receive us; nor did we see anything more of them during the day.

We encamped on the left bank of the river, amidst a polygonum scrub, in which we found a number of the crested pigeon. It was late before the tents were pitched: as Fraser seldom assisted in that operation, but strolled out with his gun after he had kindled a fire, so on this occasion he wandered from the camp in search of novelty, and on his return, informed me that there was a considerable ridge to the south of a plain upon which he had been.

I had myself walked out to the S.E., and on ascending a few feet above the level of the camp, got into a scrub. I was walking quietly through it, when I heard a rustling noise, and looking in the direction whence it proceeded, I observed a small kangaroo approaching me. Having a stick in my hand, and being aware that I was in one of their paths, I stood still until the animal came close up to me, without apparently being aware of my presence. I then gave it a blow an the side of the head, and made it reel to one side, but the stick, being rotten, broke with the force of the blow, and thus disappointed me of a good meal.

During my absence from the camp, a flight of cockatoos, new to us, but similar to one that Mr. Hume shot on the Darling, passed over the tents, and I found M'Leay, with his usual anxiety, trying to get a shot at them. They had, he told me, descended to water, but they had chosen a spot so difficult of approach without discovery, that he had found it impossible to get within shot of them.

RIDGE TO THE SOUTH-EAST.

There was a considerable rapid just below our position, which I examined before dark. Not seeing any danger, I requested M'Leay to proceed down it in the boat as soon as he had breakfasted, and to wait for me at the bottom of it. As I wished to ascertain the nature and height of the elevations which Fraser had magnified into something grand, Fraser and I proceeded to the centre of a large plain, stretching from the left bank of the river to the southward. It was bounded to the S.E. by a low scrub; to the S. a thickly wooded ridge appeared to break the level of the country. It extended from east to west for four or five miles, and then gradually declined. At its termination, the country seemed to dip, and a dense fog, as from an extensive sheet of water, enveloped the landscape. The plain was crowded with cockatoos, that were making their morning's repast on the berries of the salsolae and rhagodia, with which it was covered.

DISTANT RANGES SEEN.

M'Leay had got safely down the rapid, so that as soon as I joined him, we proceeded on our journey. We fell in with the tribe we had already seen, but increased in numbers, and we had hardly left them, when we found another tribe most anxiously awaiting our arrival. We stayed with the last for some time, and exhausted our vocabulary, and exerted our ingenuity to gain some information from them. I directed Hopkinson to pile up some clay, to enquire if we were near any hills, when two or three of the blacks caught the meaning, and pointed to the N.W. Mulholland climbed up a tree in consequence of this, and reported to me that he saw lofty ranges in the direction to which the blacks pointed; that there were two apparently, the one stretching to the N.E., the other to the N.W. He stated their distance to be about forty miles, and added that he thought he could observe other ranges, through the gap, which, according to the alignment of two sticks, that I placed according to Mulholland's directions, bore S. 130 W.

We had landed upon the right bank of the river, and there was a large lagoon immediately behind us. The current in the river did not run so strong as it had been. Its banks were much lower, and were generally covered with reeds. The spaces subject to flood were broader than heretofore, and the country for more than twenty miles was extremely depressed. Our view from the highest ground near the camp was very confined, since we were apparently in a hollow, and were unable to obtain a second sight of the ranges we had noticed.

PASS THREE CREEKS.

Three creeks fell into the Murray hereabouts. One from the north, another from the N.E., and the third from the south. The two first were almost choked up with the trunks of trees, but the last had a clear channel. Our tents stood on ground high above the reach of flood. The soil was excellent, and the brushes behind us abounded with a new species of melaleuca.

The heat of the weather, at this time, was extremely oppressive, and the thermometer was seldom under 100 degrees of Fahr. at noon. The wind, too, we observed, seldom remained stationary for any length of time, but made its regular changes every twenty-four hours. In the morning, it invariably blew from the N.E., at noon it shifted to N.W., and as the sun set it flew round to the eastward of south. A few dense clouds passed over us occasionally, but no rain fell from them.

DISEASES OF THE NATIVES.

Our intercourse with the natives had now been constant. We had found the interior more populous than we had any reason to expect; yet as we advanced into it, the population appeared to increase. It was impossible for us to judge of the disposition of the natives during the short interviews we generally had with them, and our motions were so rapid that we did not give them time to form any concerted plan of attack, had they been inclined to attack us. They did not, however, show any disposition to hostility, but, considering all things, were quiet and orderly, nor did any instances of theft occur, or, at least, none fell under my notice. The most loathsome of diseases prevailed throughout the tribes, nor were the youngest infants exempt from them. Indeed, so young were some, whose condition was truly disgusting, that I cannot but suppose they must have been born in a state of disease; but I am uncertain whether it is fatal or not in its results, though, most probably it hurries many to a premature grave. How these diseases originated it is impossible to say. Certainly not from the colony, since the midland tribes alone were infected. Syphilis raged amongst them with fearful violence; many had lost their noses, and all the glandular parts were considerably affected. I distributed some Turner's cerate to the women, but left Fraser to superintend its application. It could do no good, of course, but it convinced the natives we intended well towards them, and, on that account, it was politic to give it, setting aside any humane feeling.

POPULOUS DISTRICT.

The country through which we passed on the 28th, was extremely low, full of lagoons, and thickly inhabited. No change took place in the river, or in the nature and construction of its banks. We succeeded in getting a view of the hills we had noticed when with the last tribe, and found that they bore from us due north, N. 22 E., and S. 130 W. They looked bare and perpendicular, and appeared to be about twenty miles from us. I am very uncertain as to the character of these hills, but still think that they must have been some of the faces of the bold cliffs that we had frequently passed under. From the size and number of the huts, and from the great breadth of the foot-paths, we were still further led to conclude that we were passing through a very populous district. What the actual number of inhabitants was it is impossible to say, but we seldom communicated with fewer than 200 daily. They sent ambassadors forward regularly from one tribe to another, in order to prepare for our approach, a custom that not only saved us an infinity of time, but also great personal risk. Indeed, I doubt very much whether we should ever have pushed so far down the river, had we not been assisted by the natives themselves. I was particularly careful not to do anything that would alarm them, or to permit any liberty to be taken with their women. Our reserve in this respect seemed to excite their surprise, for they asked sundry questions, by signs and expressions, as to whether we had any women, and where they were. The whole tribe generally assembled to receive us, and all, without exception, were in a complete state of nudity, and really the loathsome condition and hideous countenances of the women would, I should imagine, have been a complete antidote to the sexual passion. It is to be observed, that the women are very inferior in appearance to the men. The latter are, generally speaking, a clean-limbed and powerful race, much stouter in the bust than below, but withal, active, and, in some respects, intelligent; but the women are poor, weak, and emaciated. This, perhaps, is owing to their poverty and paucity of food, and to the treatment they receive at the hands of the men; but the latter did not show any unkindness towards them in our presence.

Although I desired to avoid exciting their alarm, I still made a point of showing them the effects of a gunshot, by firing at a kite, or any other bird that happened to be near. My dexterity—for I did not trust Fraser, who would, ten to one, have missed his mark—was generally exerted, as I have said, against a kite or a crow; both of which birds generally accompanied the blacks from place to place to pick up the remnants of their meals. Yet, I was often surprised at the apparent indifference with which the natives not only saw the effect of the shot, but heard the report. I have purposely gone into the centre of a large assemblage and fired at a bird that has fallen upon their very heads, without causing a start or an exclamation, without exciting either their alarm or their curiosity.

Whence this callous feeling proceeded, whether from strength of nerve, or because they had been informed by our forerunners that we should show off before them, I know not, but I certainly expected a very different effect from that which my firing generally produced, although I occasionally succeeded in scattering them pretty well.

JUNCTION OF THE RUFUS.

About 11 a.m., we arrived at the junction of a small river with the Murray, at which a tribe, about 250 in number, had assembled to greet us. We landed, therefore, for the double purpose of distributing presents, and of examining the junction, which, coming from the north, of course, fell into the Murray upon its right bank. Its waters were so extremely muddy, and its current so rapid, that it must have been swollen by some late rains. Perhaps, it had its sources in the hills we had seen; be that as it may, it completely discoloured the waters of the Murray.

We made it a point never to distribute any presents among the natives until we had made them all sit, or stand, in a row. Sometimes this was a troublesome task, but we generally succeeded in gaining our point; with a little exertion of patience. M'Leay was a famous hand at ordering the ranks, and would, I am sure, have made a capital drill-sergeant, not less on account of his temper than of his perseverance. I called the little tributary I have noticed, the Rufus, in honour of my friend M'Leay's red head, and I have no doubt, he will understand the feeling that induced me to give it such a name.

GEOLOGICAL EXAMINATION.

Not many miles below the Rufus, we passed under a lofty cliff upon the same side with it. It is the first elevation of any consequence that occurs below the Darling, and not only on that account, but also on account of the numerous substances of which it is composed, and the singular formation that is near requires to be particularly noticed. [See Appendix.] The examination was a task of considerable danger, and both Fraser and myself had well nigh been buried under a mass of the cliff that became suddenly detached, and, breaking into thousands of pieces, went hissing and cracking into the river.

THUNDER STORMS.

The weather about this time was extremely oppressive and close. Thunder clouds darkened the sky, but no rain fell. The thermometer was seldom below 104 at noon, and its range was very trifling. The wind shifted several times during the twenty-four hours; but these changes had no effect on the thermometer. It was evident, however, as the sun set on the evening of the 26th, that the clouds from which thunder had for the last four or five days disturbed the silence of nature around us, would not long support their own weight. A little before midnight, it commenced raining, and both wind and rain continued to increase in violence until about seven in the morning of the 27th; when the weather moderated.

Two or three blacks had accompanied us from the last tribe, and had lain down near the fire. As the storm increased, however, they got up, and swimming across the river, left us to ourselves. This was a very unusual thing, nor can I satisfy myself as to their object, unless it was to get into shelter, for these people though they wander naked over the country, and are daily in the water, feel the cold and rain very acutely.

Observing the clouds collecting for so many days, I indulged hopes that we were near high lands, perhaps mountains; but from the loftiest spots we could see nothing but a level and dark horizon. Anxious to gain as correct a knowledge of the country as possible we had, in the course of the day, ascended a sandy ridge that was about a mile from the river. The view from the summit of this ridge promised to be more extensive than any we had of late been enabled to obtain; and as far as actual observation went, we were not disappointed, although in every other particular, the landscape was one of the most unpromising description. To the S. and S.E., the country might be said to stretch away in one unbroken plain, for it was so generally covered with wood that every inequality was hidden from our observation. To the S.W. the river line was marked out by a succession of red cliffs, similar to those we had already passed. To the north, the interior was evidently depressed; it was overgrown with a low scrub, and seemed to be barren in the extreme. The elevations upon which we stood were similar to the sand-hills near the coast, and had not a blade of grass upon them. Yet, notwithstanding the sterility of the soil, the large white amarillis which grew in such profusion on the alluvial plains of the Macquarie, was also abundant here. But it had lost its dazzling whiteness, and had assumed a sickly yellow colour and its very appearance indicated that it was not in a congenial soil.

LINDESAY RIVER.

We passed two very considerable junctions, the one coming from the S.E., the other from the north. Both had currents in them, but the former was running much stronger than the latter. It falls into the Murray, almost opposite to the elevations I have been describing, and, if a judgment can be hazarded from its appearance at its embouchure, it must, in its higher branches, be a stream of considerable magnitude. Under this impression, I have called it the Lindesay, as a tribute of respect to my commanding officer, Colonel Patrick Lindesay of the 39th regt. I place it in east long. 140 degrees 29 minutes, and in lat. 33 degrees 58 minutes south. Mr. Hume is of opinion that this is the most southerly of the rivers crossed by him and Mr. Hovel in 1823; but, as I have already remarked, I apprehend that all the rivers those gentlemen crossed, had united in one main stream above the junction of the Morumbidgee, and I think it much more probable that this is a new river, and that it rises to the westward of Port Phillips, rather than in the S.E. angle of the coast.