Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia — Volume 2

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Title: Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia — Volume 2

Author: Charles Sturt

Release date: August 1, 2003 [eBook #4329]
Most recently updated: December 27, 2020

Language: English

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TWO EXPEDITIONS INTO THE INTERIOR OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA,

VOLUME II

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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