PREPARATIONS FOR A RIDE TO THE NORTH-WEST.— DESPATCH LEFT WITH THE PARTY STATING WHAT HAD BEEN DONE.— ASCEND EAST SHOULDER OF MOUNT PLUTO.— PASSAGE TO THE WESTWARD.— NAME OF THE WARREGASCERTAINED.— THE RIVER NIVE.— ITS COURSE TURNS SOUTHWARD.— CROSS A LOW RANGE.— PLAINS OF THE VICTORIA DISCOVERED.— EXTENSIVE DOWNS TRAVERSED.— RIVER SPREADS INTO VARIOUS CHANNELS.— TRIBUTARIES JOIN IT FROM THE N. E. OR RIGHT BANK.— THE RIVER ALICE.— NATIVE CAMP.— A TRIBE SURPRISED WHILE BATHING.— LOWEST POINT OF THE RIVER REACHED.— RETURN BY THE LEFT BANK.— TRIBUTARIES FROM THE SOUTH.— GOWEN RANGE.— ENTER OUTWARD TRACK.— PROVISIONS EXHAUSTED.— ASCEND WEST SHOULDER OF MOUNT PLUTO.— RETURN TO THE CAMP AT THE PYRAMIDS.— NEW PLANTS COLLECTED THERE DURING MY ABSENCE.

6TH AND 7TH SEPTEMBER.— It being necessary to rest and refresh the horses for a few days before setting out with the freshest of them, all being leg-weary, I determined to halt here four clear days; and during these two, I completed my maps, and took a few rough sketches of scenery within a few miles of the camp. The whole of the grass had been assiduously burnt by the natives, and a young crop was coming up. This rendered the spot more eligible for our camp, both because the young grass was highly relished by the cattle, and because no dry grass remained to be set fire to, which, in the case of any hostility on the part of the natives, is usually the first thing they do. Thermometer, at sunrise, 33°; at noon, 68°; at 4 P.M., 64°; at 9, 40°;— with wet bulb, 31°.

8TH AND 9TH SEPTEMBER.— I employed my time these two days in writing a despatch to the governor of New South Wales, giving a detailed account of my proceedings and discoveries down to the present time; that in the event of any misfortune befalling me or the very small party now to accompany me, this despatch should be forthcoming, as I intended to leave it at this dep?t camp. On the 8th, heavy clouds gathered over us, and a fine heavy shower fell, a circumstance most auspicious for our intended ride; but it was of brief duration; and, although the sky continued overcast even until the evening of the 9th, no rain fell, in sufficient quantity to fill the water-courses. It was, however, enough to produce dew for some mornings to come. Thermometer, at sunrise of the 8th, 53°; at noon, 55°; at 4 P. M., 57°; at 9, 50°;— with wet bulb, 46°; and at sunrise of the 9th, 39°; at noon, 77°; at 4 P.M., 70°; at 9, 52°;— with wet bulb, 45°.

10TH SEPTEMBER.— I set out on a fine clear morning, with two men and Yuranigh mounted, and leading two pack-horses carrying my sextant, false horizon, and a month’s provisions. Returning, still up the valley, along our old track to Camp XLIII., I there struck off to the S.W., following up a similar valley, which came down from that side. This valley led very straight towards Mount Pluto, the nearest of the three volcanic cones, which I had already intersected from various points. The other two I had named Mount Hutton and Mount Playfair. These three hills formed an obtuse-angled triangle, whereof the longest side was to the north-west, and, therefore, I expected that there the elevated land might be found to form an angle somewhat corresponding with the directions of the two shorter sides; in which case, it was probable that, to the westward of such an angle in the range, I might find what had been so long the object of these researches, viz., a river flowing to the Gulf of Carpentaria. We reached Mount Pluto, at the distance given by my former observations as far as could be ascertained by the mode of measurement I employed then; which was by counting my horse’s paces. On ascending the mountain on foot, I found a deep chasm still between me and the western summit, which was not only the highest, but the only part clear of bushes. A thick and very thorny scrub had already so impeded my ascent, that the best portion of the afternoon was gone, before I could return to the horses; and I resolved, therefore, to continue my ride, and to defer the ascent and observation of angles from the summit, until my return from the unknown western country, which we were about to explore; the search for water that night being an object of too much importance to be longer deferred. We, accordingly, passed on by the southward and westward of the mountain, following a watercourse, which led first N. W., then north, and next E. of N.; to where it at length joined one from the west, up which I turned, and continued the search for water until darkness obliged us to halt. During that search for water, my horse fell with me into a deep hole, so concealed and covered with long grass, that we both wholly disappeared from those following; and yet, strange to say, without either of us being in the least hurt. We encamped where there was, at least, good grass; but — no water.

11TH SEPTEMBER.— Within 400 yards of the spot where we had slept, we found a small pond. The water was of that rich brown tint so well known to those with whom water is most precious, and to whom, after long custom, clear water seems, like some wines, to want body. Here we had breakfast, and we took also a bagful of water100 with us. This timely supply relieved me from the necessity for following up the windings of some water-course; and I could proceed in a straight direction, westward. We passed, at first, through rather thick scrub, until, at length, I perceived a sharp pic before me, which I ascended. It consisted of trap rock, as did also the range to which it belonged, being rather a lateral feature thereof. Mount Hutton, Mount Pluto, and Mount Playfair, were all visible from it, as were also Mounts Owen and Faraday. The connections extended westward; for to the W.N.W. the broken cliffs at the head of the Salvator and the Claude, were not very distant, and these I was careful to avoid. A range immediately westward of this cone, was higher than it, and extended from Mount Playfair. To cross that range at its lowest part, which bore 26° W. of S., was our next object. We found the range covered with brigalow and other still more impervious scrubs. On the crest, the rock consisted of clay ironstone. The centigrade thermometer stood, at noon, at 30° 5’ equal to 87°, of Fahrenheit; the height above the sea we made 2032 feet. Beyond this crest, we encountered a scrub of matted vines, which hung down like ropes, and pulled some of us off our horses, when it happened that any of these ropes were not observed in time in riding through the thicket. A very dense forest of young Callitris trees next impeded us, and were more formidable than even the vines. The day was passed in forcing our way through these various scrubs, the ground declining by a gentle slope only. We next found firmer soil underfoot, that where the Callitris scrub grew having been sandy, and we saw at length, with a feeling of relief, that only brigalow scrub was before us; we ascended gravelly hills, came upon a dry water-course, and then on a chain of ponds. Near one of these ponds, sate an old woman, beside a fire, of course, although the weather was very warm; and a large net, used for taking emus, hung on a brigalow bush close by. The men were absent, looking for food, as we partly conjectured, for little could Yuranigh make out of what she said, besides the names of some rivers, to which I could point with the hand. I was surprised to find that here, the name for water was “Narran,” the name for it in the district of the Balonne being “Nadyeen,” whereas the word for water amongst the tribes of the Darling is Kalli. That the “Narran” river and swamp are named from this language of tribes now dwelling much further northward, seems obvious; and, as the natives on the Darling know little of the “Narran” or its swamp, it may be inferred that there the migration of native tribes has been progressive from south to north; the highest known land in Australia being also to the southward of the Darling. The chain of ponds, according to the old woman, was named “Cùnno,” and ran into the “Warreg” which, as she pointed, was evidently the name of the river we had formerly traced downwards from near Mount P. P. King. I left the “Cùnno,” and plunged into the brigalow to the northward, thus crossing a slightly elevated range, where we found a little water-course falling N.N.W. By following this downwards, we found water in it, as twilight grew obscure, and gladly halted beside it for the night, in latitude 25° S.

100 [A thick flour-bag covered outside with melted mutton-fat.]

12TH SEPTEMBER.— At 7 A.M. the thermometer was 59°; our height then above the sea has been ascertained to have been 1787 feet. Continuing to follow down the brigalow creek, we found that it joined a chain of ponds running N.E., and these we traced in the contrary direction, or upwards, as far as seemed desirable. We struck off from that water-course, first to the N.W., then to the W., arriving soon at a steep low ridge of clay ironstone, which was covered thick with brigalow. We crossed that low ridge, and, at a distance of about a mile and a half beyond, met another acclivity still more abrupt and stony. This we also ascended, and found upon it a “malga” scrub: the “malga” being a tree having hard spiky dry branches, which project like fixed bayonets, to receive the charge of ourselves, horses, and flour-bags; but all which formidable array we nevertheless successfully broke through, and arrived at the head of a rocky gully, falling N.W. Down this, however, we attempted in vain to pass, and in backing out we again faced the “malga,” until, seeing a flat on the right, I entered it, and there fell in with the water-course again. It led us many miles, generally in a N.W. direction, and contained some fine ponds, and entered, at length, a little river, whose banks were thickly set with large yarra trees. The general course of this river was W.N.W., until it was joined by one coming from the N., and at the junction there was a deep broad pond of clear water. At this we watered our horses, and passed on to encamp under some rocky hills, three quarters of a mile to the N.N.W. of that junction, in latitude 24° 52’ 50” S. The temperature at noon this day, on the highest part of the ridge we crossed, was 84°; the height there above the sea, 1954 feet; and at 3 P.M., in channel of water-course, the thermometer stood at 89°; the height there above the sea being 1778 feet.

13TH SEPTEMBER.— At 7 A.M. the thermometer stood at 38°; the height above the sea was found to be 1659 feet. I verily believed that THIS river would run to Carpentaria, and I called it the Nive, at least as a conventional name until the native name could be ascertained, in commemoration of Lord Wellington’s action on the river of that name; and, to the tributary from the north, I gave the name of Nivelle. Pursuing the united channel downwards, we traversed fine open grassy plains. The air was fragrant from the many flowers then springing up, especially where the natives had burnt the grass. Among them were MORGANIA GLABRA; EREMOPHILA MITCHELLII; a singular little POLYGONUM with the aspect of a TILLOEA; two very distinct little FRANKENIAS101, and a new scabrous HALORAGIS with pinnatifid leaves.102 The extensive burning by the natives, a work of considerable labour, and performed in dry warm weather, left tracts in the open forest, which had become green as an emerald with the young crop of grass. These plains were thickly imprinted with the feet of kangaroos, and the work is undertaken by the natives to attract these animals to such places. How natural must be the aversion of the natives to the intrusion of another race of men with cattle: people who recognise no right in the aborigines to either the grass they have thus worked from infancy, nor to the kangaroos they have hunted with their fathers. No, nor yet to the emus they kill FOR their fathers ONLY; these birds being reserved, or held sacred, for the sole use of the old men and women!

101 [F. SCABRA (Lindl. MS.); undique scabro-tomentosa, foliis linearibus margine revolutis non ciliatis, floribus solitariis pentameris, calycibus patentim pilosis. F. SERPYLLIFOLIA (Lindl. MS.); tomentosa hispida, foliis oblongis planis longè ciliatis, floribus solitariis subcapitatis pentameris, calycibus patentim hispidis.]

102 [H. ASPERA (Lindl. MS.) caule angulato foliis fructuque scabris, foliis alternis oppositisque linearibus acutis apice pinnatifidis, floribus distanter spicatis monoicis pendulis, stigmatibus plumosis, fructu subgloboso.]

The river pursued a course to the southward of west for nine miles, but it turned afterwards southward, eastward, and even to the northward of E. After tracing it thus twenty-two miles, without seeing any water in its bed (which was broad, but every where choked with sand), we were obliged to encamp, and endure this privation after a very warm and laborious day. Where the natives obtained water themselves, quite puzzled Yuranigh, for we passed by spacious encampments of theirs, and tracts they had set fire to, where trees still lay smoking.

14TH SEPTEMBER.— The temperature at 7 this morning was 72° of Fahrenheit; the height above the sea, of the river bed, as subsequently determined by Captain King, 1470 feet. With the earliest light, I had laid down my survey of this river, by which the course appeared to have turned towards the S.E. This not being what was desired, I took a direct northerly course through the scrub, towards a hill on the left bank, whence I had seen, on our way down, a rocky gap to the N.W. in a brigalow range. After a ride of eight miles, by which we cut off the grand curve in the river’s course, we arrived at this hill. I hoped to have found water near the spot, in a sharp turn in the river which I had not examined, and near which, on the day before, I had seen two emus, under a bank covered with brigalow scrub. Nor was I disappointed, for after finding traces of a recent current into the river-bed at that point, I discovered, at less than a hundred yards up, a fine pond of precious OPAL— I mean not crystal, but that fine bluey liquid which I found always so cool and refreshing when it lay on clay in the shady recesses of brigalow scrubs, a beverage much more grateful to our taste than the common “crystal spring.” Here, then, we watered our impatient horses, and enjoyed a wash and breakfast — the men (two old soldiers) being D’ACCORD in one sentiment of gratitude to a bountiful Providence for this water. Like “a giant refreshed with wine,” we next set out for the gap to the north-west, and passed through an open brigalow scrub, ascending very gradually, during a ride of three miles, to where I at length could discover that the fall was in the other direction. At this point, I observed the barometer, which indicated our height above the sea to be 1812 feet. Fahrenheit’s thermometer stood then (5 P.M.) at 86°. The dry channel of a water-course had afforded us an opening through the scrub, and had also guided us to the highest part of the ground. The fresh prints of the feet of three men in the smooth bare sand, told us that the same natives whose track Yuranigh had seen in the river we traced yesterday, were now going in the same direction as ourselves, and just before us; for the smell of their burning fire-sticks, and even small portions of burning embers which had dropped, made this evident. The higher ground was flat, and on it the rosewood acacia grew amongst the brigalow. The rocky gap (in a ridge) was still distant at least three miles; the sun nearly set, and not a blade of grass visible amongst the brigalow bushes. But what was all this to the romantic uncertainty as to what lay beyond! With eager steps we followed a slight channel downwards; found that it descended more rapidly than the one by which we had ascended; that it also increased, and we were guided by it into a little valley, verdant with young grass, while yet the red sky over a departed sun shone reflected from several broad ponds of water. This seemed to us a charming spot, so opportunely and unexpectedly found, and we alighted on a fine grassy flat by the margin of a small lagoon, where stood a most graceful group of bushes for shelter or shade. After sunset, the sky was overcast with very heavy clouds; the air was sultry, and we expected rain.

15TH SEPTEMBER.— As soon as daylight appeared I hastened towards the gap, and ascended a naked rock on the west side of it. I there beheld downs and plains extending westward beyond the reach of vision, bounded on the S. W. by woods and low ranges, and on the N. E. by higher ranges; the whole of these open downs declining to the N. W., in which direction a line of trees marked the course of a river traceable to the remotest verge of the horizon. There I found then, at last, the realization of my long cherished hopes, an interior river falling to the N. W. in the heart of an open country extending also in that direction. Ulloa’s delight at the first view of the Pacific could not have surpassed mine on this occasion, nor could the fervour with which he was impressed at the moment have exceeded my sense of gratitude, for being allowed to make such a discovery. From that rock, the scene was so extensive as to leave no room for doubt as to the course of the river, which, thus and there revealed to me alone, seemed like a reward direct from Heaven for perseverance, and as a compensation for the many sacrifices I had made, in order to solve the question as to the interior rivers of Tropical Australia. To an European, the prospect of an open country has a double charm in regions for the most part covered with primaeval forests, calling up pleasing reminiscences of the past, brighter prospects for the future — inspiring a sense of freedom, especially when viewed from the back of a good horse:—

“A steed! a steed! of matchless speede, A sword of metal keene — All else to noble minds is drosse, All else on earth is meane!” — OLD SONG.

I hastened back to my little party (distant a mile and a half from the gap), and immediately made them mount to follow me down the watercourse, which, as I had seen from the rock, would lead us into the open country. The little chain of ponds led westward, until the boundless downs appeared through the woods; a scene most refreshing to us, on emerging from so many thick scrubs. Our little river, after crossing much open plain, fell into another coming from E.S.E., and columns of smoke far in the N.W. showed that there was water, by showing there were inhabitants. The grass on these downs was of the richest sort, chiefly PANICUM LOEVINODE, and I was not sorry to recognise amongst it, SALSOLOE, and the ACACIA PENDULA, amongst the shrubs. As we followed the river downwards, the open downs appeared on the W.N.W. horizon as if interminable. This river, unlike that I had called the Nive, had no sand in its bed, which consisted of firm clay, and contained deep hollows, and the beds of long reaches, then, however, all dry, while abundance of large UNIO shells lay upon the banks, and proved that the drought was not of common occurrence. The general course of the river I found to be about W.N.W. true. We continued to follow it through its windings all day, which I certainly should not have done, but for the sake of water, as our progress downwards was thus much retarded. Towards evening, Corporal Graham discovered water in a small tributary coming from the S.E., while Yuranigh found some also in the main channel, where that tributary fell into it. We encamped on Graham’s ponds, as this was called, and turned our horses loose on the wide plain, up to the knees in grass half dry, half green, that they might be the more fit “for the field tomorrow.” The sky had been lowering all day, and the heat was intense; but during the night, the air was delicious for sleeping in, under heaven’s canopy and protection.

16TH SEPTEMBER.— The “gorgeous curtains of the East” over grandly formed clouds harmonised well with my sentiments on awaking, again to trace, as if I had been the earliest man, the various features of these fine regions of earth. At 7 A.M. the temperature was 63°; and (from observations registered then) the height above the sea has been found to be 1216 feet. Throughout the day we travelled over fine downs and plains covered with the finest grass, having the river on our right. Beyond it, we saw hills, which seemed to be of greater height in proportion as we descended with the river. Some were much broken, and appeared to present precipices on the other side. A broad valley extended westward from between the farthest of these broken ranges, which range seemed to be an offshoot from one further eastward. On examining the river, below the supposed junction of a tributary from the east, I found its character altered, forming ponds amongst brigalow trees. Water was, however, scarce. We fortunately watered our horses about 3 P.M., at the only hole we had seen that day, a small muddy puddle. The ACACIA PENDULA formed a belt outside the brigalow, between the river and the open plains, and many birds and plants reminded us of the Darling; the rose cockatoo and crested-pigeon, amongst the former; SALSOLOE and SOLANUM amongst the latter. At length, we saw before us, to the westward, bold precipitous hills, extending also to the southward of west. A thunder storm came over us, and night advancing, we halted without seeing more, for that day, of the interesting country before us, and having only water enough for our own use, the product of the shower. No pond was found for the horses, although we had searched for one, many miles in the bed of the river. Still, the remains of mussel shells on the banks bore testimony that water was seldom so scarce in this river, flowing as it did through the finest and most extensive pastoral region I had ever seen.

17TH SEPTEMBER.— The temperature at seven this morning was 57°; our height above the sea 1112 feet. “Like the gay birds that” awoke us from “repose” we were “content,” but certainly not “careless of tomorrow’s fare;” for unless we found water today, “tomorrow” had found us unable either to proceed or return! Trusting wholly to Providence, however, we went forward, and found a pond in the river bed, not distant more than two miles from where we had slept. In making a cut next through a brigalow scrub, towards where I hoped to hit the river, in a nearly westerly direction, I came out upon open downs, and turned again into a brigalow scrub on my right. After travelling a good many miles, N.W., through this scrub, we arrived on the verge of a plain of dead brigalow; and still pursuing the same course, we came out, at length, upon open downs extending far to the northward. I continued to ride in that direction to a clear hill, and from it I obtained a view of a range of flat-topped hills, that seemed to extend W.N.W.; the most westerly portion of these being the steep-sided mass seen before us yesterday. They now lay far to the northward, and the intervening country was partly low and woody, and partly consisted of the downs we were upon. But where was the river? Yarra trees and other indications of one appeared nearest to us in an easterly direction, at the foot of some well-formed hollows on that side the downs. Towards that point I therefore shaped my course, and there found the river — no longer a chain of dry ponds in brigalow scrub, but a channel shaded by lofty yarra trees, with open grassy banks, and containing long reaches full of water. White cockatoos shrieked above us; ducks floated, or flew about, and columns of smoke began to ascend from the woods before us. This was now, indeed, a river, and I lost no time in following it downwards. The direction was west; then north-west, tolerably straight. Water was abundant in its bed; the breadth was considerable, and the channel was well-marked by bold lofty banks. I remarked the salt-bush of the Bogan plains, growing here, on sand-islands of this river. The grass surpassed any I had ever seen in the colony in quality and abundance. The slow flying pelican appeared over our heads, and we came to a long broad reach covered with ducks, where the channel had all the appearance of a river of the first magnitude. The old mussle shells (UNIO) lay in heaps, like cart-loads, all along the banks, but still we saw none of the natives. Flames, however, arose from the woods beyond the opposite bank, at once in many directions, as if by magic, as we advanced. At 3 P.M. Fahrenheit’s thermometer in the shade stood at 90°. Towards evening, we saw part of the bed dry, and found it continuously so, as night came on. The sun had set, while I still anxiously explored the dry recesses of the channel in search of water, without much hopes of success, when a wild yell arose from the woods back from the channel, which assured us that water was near. Towards that quarter we turned, and Yuranigh soon found a fine pond in a small ana-branch, upon which we immediately halted, and took up our abode there for the night. It may seem strange that so small a number could act thus unmolested by the native tribes, but our safety consisted chiefly in the rapidity of our movements, and their terror of strangers wholly unknown, perhaps unheard of, arriving on the backs of huge animals, or centaurs whose tramp they had only heard at nightfall. Like Burns’s “Auld Nick,”

——“rustling through the boortrees comin’ Wi’ eerie sought!”

our passage was too rapid to admit of any design for attack or annoyance being concocted, much less, carried into effect; next night we hoped to sleep thirty miles off, where our coming would be equally unexpected by natives. Latitude, 24° 34’ 30” S.

18TH SEPTEMBER.— At 7 A.M. the temperature of the air was 72°; the height of the spot above the sea, 995 feet. Keeping along the river bank for some miles, I found its general course to be about N.W.; and seeing clear downs beyond the right bank, I crossed, and proceeded towards the highest clear hill on the horizon. There I obtained a distant view of the ranges intersected yesterday, and of their prolongations. That to the northward of the river, whose general direction to the point already fixed had been 22° W. of N., there formed an angle, and continued, as far as I could judge by the eye, nearly northward. The range to the southward of the river also turned off, extending nearly to the southward. These two limits of the vast valley, thus receding from the river so as to leave it ample room to turn and wind on either side, amidst its accompanying woods, through grassy downs of great extent, obliged me to explore its course with closer attention. From another clear hill on these downs, to which I next proceeded, I thought I perceived the line of another river coming from ranges in the N.E., and expecting it would join that whose course we had thus far explored, I proceeded in a nearly N.W. direction over open downs towards the line of trees. I found therein a fine pond of water, the soil of the downs consisting of stiff clay. MESEMBRYANTHEMUM and various SALSOLOE appeared in some parts. My horses being rather jaded, I halted rather early here, and laid down my journey, protracting also the angles I had observed of the points of distant ranges. Latitude, 24° 27’ 27” S. I found by the barometer that we were already much lower than the rivers Salvator and Claude, and the upper part, at least, of the Belyando; while we were still remote from the channel we were pursuing.

19TH SEPTEMBER.— The thermometer at 7 A.M. stood at 57°. The height of these ponds above the sea was 861 feet. Young, I think, has said, that a situation might be imagined between earth and heaven, where a man should hear nothing but the thoughts of the Almighty; but such a sublime position seems almost attained by him who is the first permitted to traverse extensive portions of earth, as yet unoccupied by man; to witness in solitude and silence regions well adapted to his use, brings a man into more immediate converse with the Author both of his being, and of all other combinations of matter than any other imaginable position he can attain. With nothing but nature around him; his few wants supplied almost miraculously; living on from day to day, just as he falls in with water; his existence is felt to be in the hands of Providence alone; and this feeling pervades even the minds of the least susceptible, in journeys like these. Those splendid plains where, without a horse, man seems a helpless animal, are avoided, and are said to be shunned and disliked by the aboriginal man of the woods. Even their lonely inhabitant, the emu, seems to need both wings and feet, that he may venture across them. We travelled nearly west over plains; then through a brigalow scrub, two miles in breadth; emerging from which, on a perfectly level plain of very rich soil, we turned rather to the southward of west, to where the distant line of river-trees seemed most accessible. Bushes of ACACIA PENDULA skirted this plain; and, passing through them, we crossed a track of nearly half a mile wide of soft sand, evidently a concomitant feature of the river. We next traversed a belt of firm blue clay, on which a salsolaceous bush appeared to be the chief vegetation; and, between it and the river, was another belt of sand a mile broad, on which grew a scrub of rosewood acacia. The river there ran in four separate channels, amongst various trees; brigalow and yarra being both amongst them. I crossed these channels, and continued westward that I might ascend a hill on the downs beyond. From that eminence, no hill was visible on any part of the horizon, which everywhere presented only downs and woods. Far in the S.W. a hollow admitted of a very distant view, which terminated in downs beyond a woody valley. The course of our river appeared to be N.W., as seen by Yuranigh, from a tree we found here. In that direction I therefore proceeded; recrossing the river, where, in a general breadth of about 400 yards, it formed five channels. The grass was more verdant here, and the ponds in these small separate channels seemed likely to contain water. We continued N. W. across fine clear downs, where we found the heat so intense, (Centigrade thermometer, 37°, or 99° of Fahrenheit,) that I halted two hours under the shade of a small clump of trees. When we continued our ride in the afternoon, three emus that had been feeding on the downs came inquisitively forward; curiosity, apparently inspiring them with more courage than even the human inhabitants. Unfortunately for these birds, our bacon had become so impalatable that a change of diet was very desirable, and Graham, therefore, met them half-way on his horse; the quadruped inspiring more confidence in the bird. It was curious to witness the first meeting of the large indigenous bird and large exotic quadruped — such strange objects to each other! on the wide plains where either of them could

——“overtake the south wind.”

One of the emus was easily shot from the horse’s side, and, that evening being the Saturday night of a very laborious week, we were not slow in seeking out a shady spot by the side of a pond in the river bed. There my men had a feast, with the exception of Yuranigh; who, although unable to eat our salt bacon, religiously abstained from eating emu flesh, although he skinned the bird and cut it up, SECUNDUM ARTEM, for the use of the white men. The channel of the river was still divided ............