Читать книгу Journals of Two Expeditions into the Interior of New South Wales - John Oxley - Страница 5

Nh-air, The eyebrows.

Whada, The ears.

Ulan-gar,) The head.

Nat-tang,)

Anany, The beard.

Morro, The nose.

Er-ra, The teeth.

Mill-a, The eyes.

Narra, The fingers.

Bulla-yega, The hair of the head.

Chu-ang, The mouth.

0-ro, The neck.

Bargar, The arms.

Ben-ing, The breast.

Bur-bing, The belly.

Mille-aar, The loins.

Dha-na, The thighs.

Wolm-ga, The knees.

Dhee-nany, The feet.

Dhu-a, The back.

Mor-aya, Bones worn in the cartilage of the nose.

Mada, Skins, with which they are clothed.

Wamb-aur, Scars, raised for ornament, or distinction,

on their bodies.

Gum-iil, Girdles worn round the body.

Un-elenar, One night.

Gow, Woman.

Mar-o-gu-la, Another tribe.

Mem-aa, A native man.

Wam-aa, A kind of hornet's-nest, which they eat.

Warenur, Fire.

Curr-eli, Timber, or trees.

Galu-nur, Thistles, the roots of which they eat.

Gulura, The moon.

Yandu, Sleep.

Galen-gar,)

Ori-al, ) Stone hatchets.

Ta-wi-uth,)

The above were all the words the meaning of which we could clearly comprehend: the words used by the natives on the coast to express the same objects have not the remotest resemblance to the above.

April 28.—Fine clear mild weather. Proceeded with the remainder of the baggage to join the boats down the river; arrived at Lewis's Creek, which, although nearly dry when crossed by Mr. Evans in 1815, is now a considerable stream. The distance from the depot is about nine miles; the country on both banks of the river low but good: the upper levels would afford excellent grazing, but the soil is of inferior quality: the points of the low hills end alternately on each side the river. The land up both banks of Lewis's Creek is very rich, and covered with herbage. The boats had come safely down the river, although the large boat grounded once; the river appears to me to be from three to five feet above its usual level.

Several specimens of crystallized quartz were found on the adjoining hills, also some small pieces of good iron ore.

April 29.—Proceeded on our journey down the river, directing the boats to stop at the creek which terminated Mr. Evans's former journey. The country through which we passed this day in every respect resembles the tracts we have already gone over. The crowns and ridges of the hills are uniformly stony and barren, ending as before alternately on each side of the river; the greater proportion of good flat land lies on the south side of the river; there are however very rich and fertile tracts on this side. After riding about eight miles, we ascended a considerable hill upon our right, from the top of which we could see to a considerable distance; between the south-west and north-north-west, a very low level tract lay west of us, and no hill whatever bounded the view in that quarter. Three remarkable hummocks bore respectively S. 72. W., S. 51 1/2 W. and S. 34 1/2 W., within which range of bearing the country was uniformly level, or rising into such low hills, as not to be distinguished from the general surface. The tops of distant ranges could be discerned over low hills in the north-west, whilst, from north by the east to south, the country was broken into hill and valley. The whole of this extensive scene was covered with eucalypti, whilst on the rocky summits of the hills in the immediate neighbourhood a species of callitris was eminently distinguished. From this extensive view I named the hill Mount Prospect.

At five o'clock in the afternoon we arrived at the place where the horses had been directed to wait for the boats, but they had not arrived; the distance is at least doubled by following the immediate course of the stream, but I had calculated that its rapidity would make up for the distance, and enable the boats to keep pace with the horses.

At six o'clock the boats arrived safe, the men having had a very fatiguing row, and been obliged to clear the passage of fallen trees, and other obstructions; so that we determined to give them some repose, and halt here for the night. At half past eight o'clock proceeded down the river, intending to stop at the termination of Mr. Evans's journey in 1815, about five miles further, for the purpose of repairing the small boat, which had sustained some slight damage in coming down the river yesterday. I rode about three miles back into the country; the callitris was here more frequent, though not of large growth; the soil is not good. In returning to the river we came upon the creek which terminated Mr. Evans's journey, down which we travelled until we came to the river, about half a mile from which is a large shallow lagoon, full of ducks, bustards, black swans and red-hills. At twelve o'clock the horses arrived at the mouth of the creek, and the boats half an hour afterwards. The banks of the creek were very steep, and it was three o'clock before all the provisions were got over. The creek was named Byrne's Creek, after one of the present party, who had accompanied Mr. Evans in his former journey.

May 1.—The creek fell upwards of a foot during the night, by which some of the articles in the large boat received damage. Commenced the survey of the river from this point. The flats on both sides the river were very extensive, and in general good; the same timber and grass as usual; the stream was from thirty to forty yards broad on an average. There was not even a hillock on which to ascend during this day's route, so that our view was bounded by less than a mile on each side of the river. Traces of the natives were observed, but no natives were seen. The boats were much impeded by fallen timber: it was half past two o'clock when they arrived at the place where I intended to halt, although we had only gone between nine and ten miles.

The trees on the immediate banks of the river were very large and ramified, but few of them were useful: another species of callitris was seen to-day.

May 2.—Our journey this day was very fatiguing, the grass being nearly breast high, thick, and entangled. The soil is tolerably good within a mile and a half of the banks: I rode five or six miles out, in hopes of finding some eminence on which to ascend, but was disappointed, the country continuing a dead level, with extensive swamps, and barren brushes. The timber, dwarf box, and gum trees (all eucalypti), with a few cypresses and casuarinas, scattered here and there: few traces of the natives were seen, and none recent. Upon the swamps were numerous swans and other wild fowl. In the evening we caught nearly a hundred weight of fine fish.

May 3.—Proceeded down the river. We passed over a very barren desolate country, perfectly level, without even the slightest eminence, covered with dwarf box-trees and scrubby bushes; towards the latter part of the day a few small cypresses were seen. I think the other side of the river is much the same. We have hitherto met with no water except at the river, and a few shallow lagoons, which are evidently dry in summer. I do not know how far this level extends north and south, but I cannot estimate it at less than from ten to twelve miles on each side; but this is mere conjecture, since for the last three days I have been unable to see beyond a mile: I have, however, occasionally made excursions of five or six miles, and never perceived any difference in the elevation of the country. To-day the course of the river has been a little south of west: its windings are very frequent and sudden, fully accounting for the apparent heights of the floods, of which marks were observed about thirty-six feet above the level of the stream. At six o'clock the boats had not arrived; and as I had given directions on no account to attempt to proceed after dark, I ceased to expect them this evening.

May 4.—As soon as it was light I sent two men up the river to search for the boat: at nine o'clock one of them returned, having found it about four miles back. It appeared that the large boat had got stoved against a tree under water, and that the people were obliged to unload and haul her on shore to undergo some repairs, which they had effected; but the rain prevented them from paying her bottom. They expected to be able to proceed in an hour or two, as the weather had begun to clear up. It was fortunate that no damage had befallen any part of the boat's lading. At twelve proceeded about three quarters of a mile down the river, and from a small eminence half a mile north of it, an extensive tract of clear country was seen, bearing N. 50. W., about two or three miles from us, having a low range of hills bounding them in the direction of S. 65. W. and N. 65. E. The river wound immediately under the hill, taking a westerly direction as far as I went, which was about three miles; its windings were very sudden, and its width and depth much the same as before. The country, as far as I could see, was precisely similar to that already passed over: the hills were slaty and barren, with a few small cypresses: in fact, I have seen them grow on no other spots so frequently as on those stony hills. The boats arrived about two o'clock.

May 5.—Proceeded down the river, ascended the eminence mentioned yesterday, and from the top of a cypress tree a very distant view of the whole country was obtained: the opening through which the river apparently runs bore S. 75 1/2 W.; the country to the south and south-west extremely low. A range of hills, lying nearly east and west, bounded the level tract on the other side of the river; these hills and two or three detached hammocks excepted, there was nothing to break the uniformity of the scene.

The country was in general poor, with partial tracts of better ground; the hills were slaty, and covered as well as the levels with small eucalypti, cypresses, and casuarinas. About a mile from this place we fell in with a small tribe of natives, consisting of eight men; their women we did not see. They did not appear any way alarmed at the sight of us, but came boldly up: they were covered with cloaks made of opossum skins; their faces daubed with a red and yellow pigment, with neatly worked nets bound round their hair: the front tooth in the upper row was wanting in them all: they were unarmed, having nothing with them but their stone hatchets. It appeared from their conduct that they had either seen or heard of white people before, and were anxious to depart, accompanying the motion of going with a wave of their hand.

About three miles from our last night's halting-place we had to cross a small creek, the banks of which were so steep that we were obliged to unload the horses. I rode up the creek about three quarters of a mile, and came upon those extensive plains before-mentioned; the soil of this level appears a good loamy clay, but in some places very wet: it was far too extensive to permit us to traverse much of it; we saw sufficient to judge that the whole surface was similar to that we examined; it was covered with a great variety of new plants, and its margin encircled by a new species of acacia, which received the specific name of PENDULA, from its resembling in habit the weeping willow. Low hills to the north bounded this plain, whilst a slip of barren land, covered with small trees and shrubs, lay between it and the river.

It appeared to me that the whole of these flats are occasionally overflowed by the river, the water of which is forced up the creek before-mentioned, and which again acts as a drain on the fall of the water.

At four o'clock we halted for the evening, after a fatiguing day's journey; the boats were obliged to cut their passage three or four times, and the whole navigation was difficult and dangerous: the current ran with much rapidity, and the channel seemed rather to contract than widen. We were obliged to stop on a very barren desolate spot, with little grass for the horses; but further on the country appeared even worse. The south bank of the river (as far as I could judge) is precisely similar to that which we are travelling down. The clear levels examined to-day were named the Solway Flats. Many fish were caught here, one of which weighed upwards of thirty pounds.

May 6.—Proceeded down the river. It is impossible to fancy a worse country than the one we were now travelling over, intersected by swamps and small lagoons in every direction; the soil a poor clay, and covered with stunted useless timber. It was excessively fatiguing to the horses which travelled along the banks of the river, as the rubus and anthistiria were so thickly intermingled, that they could scarcely force a passage. After proceeding about eight miles, a bold rocky mount terminated on the river, and broke the sameness which had so long wearied us: we ascended this hill, which I named Mount Amyot, and from the summit had one of the most extensive views that can be imagined. On the opposite side of the river was another hill precisely similar to Mount Amyot, leaving a passage between them for the river, and the immense tract of level country to the eastward; this hill was named Mount Stuart. Vast plains clear of timber lay on the south side of the river, and which, from our having travelled on a level with them, it was impossible for us to distinguish before. These plains I named Hamilton's Plains, and they were bounded by hills of considerable elevation to the southward; whilst the whole level country thus bounded was honoured with the designation of Princess Charlotte's Crescent.

To the west of Mount Amyot the view was equally extensive, being bounded only by the horizon; some high detached hills, rising like islands from the ocean, broke, in some measure, the sameness of the prospect. I estimated that in the west north-west I could see at least forty miles, and in the south south-west as far; the view in other points being slightly interrupted by low ranges of hills, rising occasionally to points of considerable elevation: none of those elevated spots was nearer than twenty-five or thirty miles, and considerable spaces of clear ground could, by the assistance of the telescope, be distinguished, interspersed amidst the ocean of trees whence those hills arise: a long broken mountain, bearing W. 32 1/2. N., was named Mount Melville; one W. 24. N. Mount Cunningham; and another, bearing S. 70. W. Mount Maude. Smoke, arising from the fires of the wandering inhabitants of these desolate regions was seen in several quarters. At four o'clock we stopped for the evening, about three miles west of Mount Amyot.

I have reason to believe that the whole of the tract named Princess Charlotte's Crescent is at times drowned by the overflowing of the river; the marks of flood were observed in every direction, and the waters in the marshes and lagoons were all traced as being derived from the river. During a course of upwards of seventy miles not a single running stream emptied itself into the river on either side; and I am forced to conclude that in common seasons this whole tract is extremely badly watered, and that it derives its principal if not only supply from the river within the bounding ranges Of Princess Charlotte's Crescent. There are doubtless many small eminences which might afford a retreat from the inundations, but those which were observed by us were too trifling and distant from each other to stand out distinct from the vast level surface which the crescent presents to the view. The soil of the country we passed over was a poor and cold clay; but there are many rich levels which, could they be drained and defended from the inundations of the river, would amply repay the cultivation. These flats are certainly not adapted for cattle; the grass is too swampy, and the bushes, swamps, and lagoons, are too thickly intermingled with the better portions to render it either a safe or desirable grazing country. The timber is universally bad and small; a few large misshapen gum trees on the immediate banks of the river may be considered as exceptions. If however the country itself is poor, the river is rich in the most excellent fish, procurable in the utmost abundance. One man in less than an hour caught eighteen large fish, one of which was a curiosity from its immense size, and the beauty of its colours. In shape and general form it most resembled a cod, but was speckled over with brown, blue, and yellow spots, like a leopard's skin; its gills and belly a clear white, the tail and fins a dark brown. It weighed entire seventy pounds, and without the entrails sixty-six pounds: it is somewhat singular that in none of these fish is any thing found in the stomach, except occasionally a shrimp or two. The dimensions of this fish were as follow:

Feet. Inches.

Length from the nose to the tail 3 5

Circumference round the shoulders 2 6

Fin to fin over the back 1 5

Circumference near the anus 1 9

Breadth of the tail 1 1 1/2

Circumference of the mouth opened 1 6

Depth of the swallow 1 foot.

Most of the other fish taken this evening weighed from fifteen to thirty pounds each, and were of the same kind as the above.

May 7.—A fine clear frosty morning. The horses having been much fatigued by the two last days' journey, I determined to halt to-day instead of Saturday, as the grass was good, which is more than could be said of it for some days past. Observed the latitude to be 33. 22. 59. S.

May 8.—Proceeded down the river. Our general course was westerly, and the country, though equally level with any we had passed, improved in the quality of the soil, which, during the greater part of to-day's route, was a good vegetable mould, the land thickly covered with small acacia and dwarf trees. On the south side of the river it was apparently the same; and the whole we passed over bore evident marks of being subject to inundations.

The banks of the river were, I think, much lower, not exceeding fifteen or twenty feet high, and they were rather clearer of timber than before. The casuarina, which used to line the banks, was now seldom seen, the acacia pendula seeming to take its place. We stopped for the night on a plain of good land, flooded, but clear of timber: large flocks of emus were feeding on it, and we were fortunate enough to kill a very large one after a fine chase. At three o'clock, the boats not having arrived, I sent a man back to look for them; at eight he returned, having found them about six miles up the river, unable to proceed until morning, having met with continual interruptions from fallen trees. These impediments in the navigation of the river obstruct our progress very materially, and its windings continue so great and frequent, that the distance travelled by land is nearly trebled by water.

May 9.—The boats not having arrived at ten o'clock, Mr. Evans proceeded with the BAT horses another stage down the river. Mr. Cunningham and I waited to bring up the boats, which shortly afterwards came in sight. We proceeded to join the horses, which we did about five o'clock, the boats having gone in that time nearly thirty-six miles, although the distance from the last station did not exceed seven in a direct line.

The country we had passed through during this day's route was extremely low, consisting of extensive plains divided by lines of small trees: the banks of the river, and the deep bights formed by the irregularity of its course, were covered with acacia bushes and dwarf trees. The river, at the spot where we stopped, wound along the edge of an extensive low plain, being at least six miles long and three or four broad; these I called Field's Plains, after the judge of the supreme court of this territory; they are the same which we saw from the top of Mount Amyot. The soil of these plains is a light clayey loam, very wet in many places; they were fringed round with that beautiful tree, the acacia pendula, which here seems to perform the part of the willow in Europe; the cypresses were also more frequent, and the banks of the river much lower than even those we passed yesterday. I cannot help thinking that the whole of this extensive region has been at some time or other under water, and that the present river is the drain by which the waters have been conveyed to lower grounds. It is evident that even now the plains (on those parts clear of trees) are frequently under water, and that at very high floods the wooded lands are so too, for it is almost impossible to distinguish any difference in their elevation; but the wooded lands, from being actually higher, seem to have given time for the growth of the diminutive timber with which they are covered, whereas the lower plains are too frequently covered to give time for such growth.

May 10.—The horses having strayed in the night, and it being nearly noon before they were found, I determined to make this a halting day.

These plains are much more extensive than I supposed yesterday, and many new plants were found on them. The river rose upwards of a foot during the night, and still continues to rise; a circumstance which appears very singular to me, there having been no rains of any magnitude for the last five weeks, and none at all for the last ten days. We are also certain that no waters fall into it or join it easterly for nearly one hundred and fifty miles. This rise must therefore be occasioned by heavy rains in the mountains, whence the river derives its source; but it is not the less singular, that during its whole course, as far as it is hitherto known, it does not receive a single tributary stream. Observed the latitude 33. 16. 33. S.

May 11.—The river rose about four feet during the night, and still continues to rise. Set forward on our journey down the river. About four miles and a half from this morning's station. the river began to wash the immediate edge of the plain, and so continued to do all along. My astonishment was extreme at finding the banks of the river not more than six feet from the water: it at once confirmed my supposition that the whole of this extensive country is frequently inundated; the river was here about thirty yards broad. Mount Cunningham was at this time distant about two miles, and Mount Melville four miles; the plains winding immediately under the base of each. At twelve o'clock ascended the south end of Mount Cunningham, a small branch of the river running close under it. From this elevation our view was very extensive in every direction, particularly in the west quarter. The whole country in that direction was so low, that it might not improperly be termed a swamp, the spaces which were bare of trees being more constantly under water than those where they grew. A remarkable peaked hill bearing W. 27 1/4. N. was named Hurd's Peak [Note: After Captain Hurd, Hydrographer to the Admiralty.], and a lofty hummock S. 83 1/2. W, Mount Meyrick: these were the only elevations of any consequence in the western direction. To the north, low ranges of rocky hills bounded the swamps, which on the south had a similar boundary, except that occasionally a bolder rocky projection would obtrude itself on the flat.

On descending from the hill, we proceeded to the point where the north-west arm is separated from the main branch, but apparently to join it in water, bearing from Mount Cunningham W. 40. N.: on arriving there we found the boats and horses. The crew of the former reported, that an equally considerable branch of the river, with that down which they had come, had turned off to the south-west, about two miles below the place where we stopped last night. After directing the horses and baggage to be got over the north-west arm, I returned to examine the branch passed by the boats, and found it at least as considerable as that which we were pursuing. I am in hopes that when again joined, the width and depth of the river will be considerably increased. At half past four returned to the tents on the north-west arm. The river (from whatever cause) was still rising, and no part of the banks was more than four feet above the level of the water. I consider that the river may have from eight to ten feet more water in it than usual: its present average depth is about eighteen feet.

The soil of these extensive plains, designated Field's Plains, is for the most part extremely rich, as indeed might be expected, from the deposition of the quantities of vegetable matter that must take place in periods of flood. The plains are in some places even lower than the ground forming the immediate bank of the river, very soft, and difficult for loaded horses to pass over. If we had been so unfortunate as to have had a rainy season, it would have been utterly impossible to have come thus far by land. The ranges of hills are unconnected, and are rocky and barren; the swamps for the most part surrounding them. Mount Cunningham is a lofty rocky hill, about a mile and a half long, composed of granite rock, but entirely surrounded by low swampy ground.

Here we were so unfortunate as to find the barometer broken, the horse which carried the instruments having thrown his load in passing the swamps: every precaution had been taken in the packing to prevent such an accident, which was the more to be regretted, as it interrupted a chain of observations by which I hoped to ascertain the height of the country with tolerable accuracy. The last observations that were made, reduced to this place, gave us an elevation of not more than five hundred feet above the sea, or about a hundred feet lower than the country at the depot.

Since the river has been swollen, the fish have eluded us, none having been caught since yesterday morning. Two black swans were however shot on the river. Our present situation is by no means enviable: in the first place, there is every chance that the river may be lost in a multitude of branches, among those marshy flats, and farther navigation thus rendered impossible; and in the second, a rise of four feet in the river would sweep us all away, since we have not the smallest eminence to retreat to. Should the river lead through to the westward, and be afterwards joined by the branches we have passed, it may become something more interesting and encouraging: a wet or even a partially rainy season will, in my judgment, preclude us from returning by our present route, more especially if these low countries continue for any distance.

I am by no means surprised at the paucity of natives that have been seen: it would be quite impossible in wet seasons to inhabit these marshes, and equally so for them to retreat in times of flood. Their fires are universally observed near the higher grounds, and no traces of any thing like a permanent camp has hitherto been seen; but in many places on the banks quantities of pearl muscle-shells were found near the remains of fires. That large species of bittern, known on the east-coast by the local name of Native Companions, I believe from the circumstance of their being always seen in pairs, was observed, on the flats, of very large size, exceeding six feet in height: they were so shy that we were unable to shoot any.

May 12.—The fine weather still continues to favour us. The river rose in the course of the night upwards of a foot. It is a probable supposition that the natives, warned by experience of these dangerous flats, rather choose to seek a more precarious, but more safe subsistence in the mountainous and rocky ridges which are occasionally to be met with. The river and lagoons abound with fish and fowl, and it is scarcely reasonable to suppose that the natives would not avail themselves of such store of food, if the danger of procuring it did not counterbalance the advantages they might otherwise derive from such abundance.

About three quarters of a mile farther westward we had to cross another small arm of the river, running to the northward, which although now full, is, I should think, dry when the river is at its usual level. It is probable that this and the one which we first crossed join each other a few miles farther to the westward, and then both united fall into the stream which gave them existence. We had scarcely proceeded a mile from the last branch, before it became evident that it would be impossible to advance farther in the direction in which we were travelling. The stream here overflowed both banks, and its course was lost among marshes: its channel not being distinguishable from the surrounding waters.

Observing an eminence about half a mile from the south side, we crossed over the horses and baggage at a Place where the water was level with the banks, and which when within its usual channel did not exceed thirty or forty feet in width, its depth even now being only twelve feet.

We ascended the hill, and had the mortification to perceive the termination of our research, at least down this branch of the river: the whole country from the west north-west round to north was either a complete marsh or lay under water, and this for a distance of twenty-five or thirty miles, in those directions; to the south and south-west the country appeared more elevated, but low marshy grounds lay between us and it, which rendered it impossible for us to proceed thither from our present situation. I therefore determined to return back to the place where the two branches of the principal river separated, and follow the south-west branch as far as it should be navigable; our fears were however stronger than our hopes, lest it would end in a similar manner to the one we had already traced, until it became no longer navigable for boats.

In pursuance of this intention we descended the hill, which was named Farewell Hill, from its being the termination of our journey in a north-west direction at least for the present, and proceeded up the south bank of the stream. We were able to reach only a short distance from the spot where we stopped last night, having been obliged to unload the horses no less than four times in the course of the day, added to which, the travelling loaded through those dreadful marshes had completely exhausted them: my own horse, in searching for a better track, was nearly lost, and it consumed four hours to advance scarcely half a mile.

My disappointment at the interruption of our labours in this quarter was extreme, and what was worse, no flattering prospect appeared of our succeeding better in the examination of the south-west branch. I was however determined to see the present end of the river in all its branches, before I should finally quit it, in furtherance of the other objects of the expedition.

May 13.—Returned to the point whence the river separates into two branches; intending first to descend the south-west branch for some distance before the boats and baggage should move down, being unwilling the horses should undergo an useless fatigue in traversing such marshy ground, unless the branch should prove of sufficient magnitude to take us a considerable distance; conceiving it an object of the first importance that the horses should start fresh, if I should find it necessary to quit the river at this point of the coast.

May 14.—This branch of the river has fallen about a foot. Having directed the casks in the boats to be prepared for slinging on the horses, and the tools and arms to be put in order preparatory to leaving the river, I proceeded to examine the branch. After going about four miles down, it took a similar direction (north-westerly) to that which we had previously traced. The banks on both sides were a mere marsh, and about six miles down, a small arm from it supplied the marshes between this and the north-west branch. The fall of the country from the south-east to the north-west was very remarkable; the water in the branch was here nearly level with the banks, and was narrowed to a width of not more than twenty feet. Finding that it would be equally as impracticable to follow this branch as the other, I returned and commenced preparations for setting out for the coast, which I purpose not to do until Sunday, in order that the horses may be refreshed, as they will at first be most heavily laden.

My present intention is to take a south-west direction for Cape Northumberland, since should any river be formed from those marshes, which is extremely probable, and fall into the sea between Spencer's Gulf and Cape Otway, this course will intersect it, and no river or stream can arise from these swamps without being discovered. The body of water now running in both the principal branches is very considerable, fully sufficient to have constituted a river of magnitude, if it had constantly maintained such a supply of water, and had not become separated into branches, and lost among the immense marshes of this desolate and barren country, which seems here to form a vast concavity to receive them. It is impossible to arrive at any certain opinion as to what finally becomes of these waters, but I think it probable, from the appearance of the country, and its being nearly on a level with the sea, that they are partly absorbed by the soil, and the remainder lost by evaporation.

May 15.—Mr. Cunningham made an excursion under Mount Melville, and found the country in that direction as full of stagnant water as to the north-west. Some tracts rather more raised above the usual level were barren, and covered with acacia scrubs. The natives had been recently under Mount Melville, perhaps to the number of a dozen: abundance of large pearl muscle-shells was found about their deserted fireplaces, but these shells had been apparently some months out of water.

May 16.—Felled a tree of the acacia pendula, the wood extremely hard and beautiful; a black resinous juice exuded from the heart, which much resembled the black part of the lignum vitae. Our observations placed this spot in latitude 33. 15. 34. S.; longitude 147. 16. E. and the variation of the compass 7. 0. 8. E.

May 17.—After reducing our luggage as much as possible, we sent every thing down the branch about two miles, and landed on the south shore; got every thing in readiness for proceeding on our journey to-morrow; hauled up the boats on the south bank, and secured them, together with such heavy articles as we could not take with us. The provisions occupied our whole fourteen horses, including my own, and each will still be very heavily laden.

May 18.—At nine o'clock we commenced our journey towards the coast; at three stopped within four miles of Mount Maude, on a dry creek, with occasional pools of very indifferent water. The country through which we passed from the branch was for the first three miles very low and wet, with large lagoons of water. During the latter part of the journey the country was more elevated though still level, the soil light and rotten, and overrun with the acacia pendula. The horses being very heavily laden fell repeatedly during the early part of the day. Our course was nearly south-west, and we performed about ten miles.

May 19.—At two miles passed over a low rocky range connected with Mount Maude: the remainder of our day's journey (nearly twelve miles) lay chiefly through a barren level country, the ground rather studded than covered with grass, and that only in patches, by far the greater part producing no grass at all. The trees were chiefly cypresses, a new species of staculia, together with scrubs of the acacia pendula. The soil a light red sand, the lower levels being stronger and more clayey. We did not meet with any water, and were obliged to stop in the middle of an acacia brush, the horses being too much fatigued to proceed farther, and as the country had been lately burnt, the grass was a little better than usual. At four o'clock sent two men to search for water, and in about half an hour they returned, having found several small ponds of good water about three quarters of a mile to the south-west: the swamp appeared to extend to the northward a considerable distance. Several native huts were on the edge of one of the ponds, but they had not been recently inhabited.

May 20.—Proceeded forward south-west eleven miles through a most barren desolate country, the soil a light red sand, literally parched up with drought, there being no appearance of rain having fallen for several months. The country through which we passed being a perfect plain overrun with acacia scrubs, we could not see in any direction above a quarter of a mile; I therefore halted at two o'clock on purpose to gain time to find water before sunset, as we had seen no other signs of any on our route than a few dry pits. It is impossible to imagine a more desolate region; and the uncertainty we are in, whilst traversing it, of finding water, adds to the melancholy feelings which the silence and solitude of such wastes is calculated to inspire.

The search for water was unsuccessful, about three gallons of muddy liquid being all that could be procured: our horses and dogs, I am afraid, were the greatest sufferers.

May 21.—The water was so extremely bad that, pressed as we were by thirst, we could scarcely even by twice boiling it render it drinkable. After travelling ten or eleven miles through a country equally barren and destitute with that of yesterday, without meeting with the least appearance of water, and the horses being completely worn out, I determined to halt on a small patch of burnt grass; two of the horses had fallen several times under their loads, and nothing but the evenness of the road enabled us to reach thus far. The same level plain extended on all sides, and our view was confined to the scrubby brush around us. A small hollow lying across our track, I sent a man on horseback to trace it, in hopes it might lead to water: he returned about four o'clock with the joyful news that he had found water in a large swamp about five miles to the north-west: he also saw a native, who however ran too swiftly to allow him to come up with him. This was the first living creature of any kind we had seen since we quitted the river. Both the kangaroo and emu seem to have deserted these plains for other parts of the country better watered, and affording them more food. The horses being utterly unable to proceed without rest, I determined to remain here to-morrow to refresh them.

May 22.—The nights cold and frosty, the days warm and clear: I think it is very evident that the altitude of the country declines in a remarkable manner to the north-west; from the south-east to the south-west it appears nearly of the same elevation; and in travelling we appear to be going along an inclined plane, the lowest edges being from west to north. I went about five miles to the north-west to the place whence the water was procured; the country poor, and as barren as can well be imagined; the soil a light red sand, acacia scrubs, small box-trees, and a few miserable cypresses.

May 23.—Our route lay through a country equally bad, if not worse, than any which we had passed the preceding days: in some places it was difficult for the horses to force a passage through the brush; occasionally low stony ridges intervened, which, when viewed from higher eminences, were not to be detected from the plain out of which they rose. The soil was alternately a sterile sand and a hardened clay, without grass of any description: the country appeared to form the bottom of a dry morass, and I am convinced if the weather had not been dry for a considerable time, travelling would have been impossible. After proceeding ten miles we were obliged to stop, the horses being unable to go further. We had seen no signs of water during our route, but stopping at a stony water-course we were in hopes of finding a sufficiency to supply our wants, and on a hill at the end of it, about a quarter of a mile to the westward, water was found.

May 24.—A day of rest and preparation. The country seems to rise hereabouts and to be more broken, the ridges stony: the dwarf timber and brush very thick. In searching for the horses this morning several kangaroos and emus were seen, also the huts of a tribe of natives recently inhabited.

May 25.—The horses much refreshed, except one which is unable to carry any thing; his load was therefore obliged to be distributed among the rest, already too heavily laden. At nine o'clock set forward on our journey. At two we arrived at the base of a hill of considerable magnitude, terminating westward in an abrupt perpendicular rock from two hundred and fifty to three hundred feet high. The country we passed over was of the most miserable description; the last eight miles without a blade of grass. The acacia brushes grow generally on a hard and clayey soil evidently frequently covered with water, and I consider that these plains or brushes are swamps or morasses in wet weather, since they must receive all the water from the low ranges with which they are generally circumscribed. It is a remarkable feature in the hills of this country that their terminations are generally perpendicular westward, rising from the lower grounds round from south-west to north-west very gradually; their terminating rocky bluffs are usually two or three hundred feet high. I include in these observations not only the single detached hills, but the points of the ranges. This hill was named Mount Aiton. The country having been recently burnt, some good grass was found for the horses a little to the south-west. We therefore stopped for the night, and ascended the face of the mount for the purpose of looking around: a very large brown speckled snake was killed about half way up, which, in the absence of fresh provisions, was afterwards eaten by some of the party. On arriving at the summit we had an extensive prospect in every direction; the country was most generally level, but rose occasionally into gentle eminences bounded by distant low ranges from the south south-west to the north-west. The most considerable of these ranges were named PEEL'S RANGE, and GOULBURN'S RANGE: a very lofty hill, distant at least seventy miles, was named MOUNT GRANARD. Interspersed through the country, bounded by those ranges, were several large tracts entirely devoid of wood; these are however, I fear, only a repetition of the acacia plains of which we had lately been but too abundantly favoured. From south-west by south round to north-east were some low broken hills, with some to the east-south-east of greater magnitude; but their distance was so great as to appear but faintly in the horizon. Upon the whole the country appeared more open and somewhat better, particularly in the immediate vicinity of our station to the south-west. There were not the smallest signs of any stream, neither is-ere there any fires in the direction we had to take. Three or four fires were seen in the north-west, and recent traces of the natives were discovered near our tents. The inhabitants of these wilds must be very few, and I think it impossible for more than a family to subsist together; a greater number would only starve each other: indeed their deserted fires and camps which we occasionally saw, never appeared to have been occupied by more than six or eight persons. The scarcity of food must also prevent the raising of many children, from the absolute impossibility of supporting them until of an age to provide for themselves. We have seen so few animals, either kangaroo or emu, and the country appears so little capable of maintaining these animals, that the means of the natives in procuring food must be precarious indeed. We found just a sufficiency of water to answer our purpose in a drain from the Mount; our dogs are, however, in a wretched condition for want of food.

May 26.—The horses having strayed in the night, every man was employed in searching for them. In passing through those barren brushes yesterday, a great quantity of small iron-stones was picked up, from the size of a large pea to a hen's-egg, all nearly round, being washed into heaps by the waters, which in time of rain sweep over those flats. The front of Mount Aiton was found to decline about fifteen degrees from the perpendicular; the rocks were composed of a hard sandy free-stone. It was eight o'clock in the evening before any of the people returned, and then only two men came back with two horses, being all they were able to find: the other three men are still absent, but they had found the track of the other horses before these men left them. The two horses were discovered in the midst of a thick brush, entangled among creeping plants and unable to get further: they must have strayed in search of water, the water at this place not being sufficient for them all. The animals were all spencilled, but such is the scarcity of both water and grass, that they will wander in search of each.

The natives have been reconnoitring us: we have several times heard them, but have been unable to see them. At sunset their fires were seen about two miles to the south-west.

May 27.—At day-light, despatched the other two men and horses to the assistance of the rest, who remained out all night.

A native was seen about half a mile from our fires: the dogs attacked him, and when called off, he ran away shouting most lustily; he was a very stout man, at least six feet high, entirely naked, with a long bushy beard: he had no arms of any kind. At two o'clock, two of the men who had been out all night returned, after an unsuccessful search, leaving three more out to pursue it in every possible direction. Water is evidently the reason of their straying, as several patches of burnt grass have been passed by them, and they would naturally return to the place where they last found it, if they could find none nearer. At sunset the men returned with nine of the horses, five being still missing: they were found ten miles on the road back, and near the place where they fed on the 24th.

May 28.—At daylight despatched four men on horseback to resume the search for the missing horses, taking with them two days' provisions.

May 29.—At four o'clock in the afternoon the men returned, still unsuccessful.

May 30.—At seven o'clock I proceeded to the north-east with two men, whilst Mr. Evans went to the north-west. At ten I was fortunate enough to fall in with the horses about eight miles from our camp; returned with them, and prepared every thing for setting forward to-morrow morning. In one of the brushes an emu's nest was found, containing ten eggs; our dogs also killed two small birds. Mr. Evans returned about three o'clock, having seen nothing remarkable: the country was very thick and brushy, and he was much impeded by creeping vines.

Mr. Cunningham here planted the seeds of quinces, and the stones of peach and apricot trees.

May 31.—Fine weather as usual, and at nine o'clock we set off with renewed hopes and spirits. Our first nine miles afforded excellent travelling through an open country of very indifferent soil. The trees thin and chiefly cypress, with occasionally a large sterculia, but no water whatever: at the ninth mile we entered a very thick eucalyptus brush, overrun with creepers and prickly acacia bushes. We continued forcing our way through this desert until sunset, when, finding no hopes of getting through it before dark, we halted in the midst of it, having travelled in the whole nearly twenty miles, and for the last mile been obliged to cut our way with our tomahawks.

Both men and horses were quite knocked up, and our embarrassment was heightened by the want of water for ourselves and them, as this desert did not hold out the slightest hope of finding any. No herbage of any kind grew on this abandoned plain, being a fine red sand, which almost blinded us with its dust. It was with some little hesitation that we affixed a name to this brush; but at length nothing occurred to us more expressive of its aspect than EURYALEAN. This was the first night which we had passed absolutely without water.

June 1.—A cold frosty morning. The weather during the might changed from very mild and pleasant to extreme cold; the thermometer varying 24. At daylight we loaded the horses and set forward to get out of this scrub, and endeavour to procure water and grass for the horses, which we were obliged to tie to bushes, to prevent them from straying. After going about two miles farther we cleared the thickest of it: but the country was only more open, and not in any degree more fertile. We proceeded on towards the south-east end of Peel's range until twelve o'clock, when, having gone nearly eleven miles, the horses were unable to proceed farther with their loads. There was nothing left for us but to unload them, and separate in every direction in search of that most precious of elements, without tasting a drop of which both men and horses had now existed nearly thirty-six hours.