On our return to the cart, I determined on again taking up my quarters at the little rocky water-hole, and sending Mr. Browne and Flood to the westward to find a practicable descent to the plains, before I again moved from the glen.

In the evening, Mr. Browne went with Flood down the creek, but the road was perfectly impracticable even for led horses, so that the only hope of progressing rested on the success that might attend his endeavours on the following day. He accordingly started with Flood at an early hour, proposing to return by the way of the creek, if he should succeed in finding a descent to the plains. I and Morgan remained in the glen. My observations placed this well-remembered spot in lat. 31 degrees 32 minutes 17 seconds S.

I had plenty of occupation during my officer's absence, whilst Morgan was engaged looking over the harness and filling up the water-casks. At four, Mr. Browne returned, having succeeded beyond our most sanguine expectations, not only in finding an uninterrupted descent to the plains, but an abundance of water in the creek at the gorge of the glen; yet he was of opinion that we should not find any water below that point, as the creek there had a broad and even bed of sand and gravel. He said that the aspect of the plains was better than he had expected to find them, and he distinctly saw from the ranges, as he descended, the hills of whose existence we had had some doubt the day before, bearing N.N.W. Thus, then, fortune once more befriended our movements, by enabling us to push on another day in advance, without being dependent on our own resources. Morgan was too glad to empty the casks again, and to lighten the cart-load, with which, on the morning of the 9th, we left the glen, and gradually turned to the westward, until the hill we had walked to on the 7th, and which bore west by north from the place where we had left Morgan with the cart, now bore W.N.W. Pushing up a narrow valley, we found little difficulty in our way, and leaving the above hill somewhat to our right, we gradually descended by a long and leading spur to the Cis-Darling interior.

We could now look back on the ranges from the depressed region into which we had fallen, nor could the eye follow their outline and glance over the apparently boundless plain beyond them, without feeling a conviction that they had once looked over the waters of the ocean as they then overlooked a sea of scrub.

As soon as we had got well into the plains, we pursued a course of half a point to the eastward of north, nearly parallel to the ranges, until we reached the glen from which the creek issues, and formed our little camp on its banks. The water however was not good, so that we were obliged to send for some from a pool a little above us. In the bed of this creek we found beautiful specimens of Solani, and a few new plants.

I halted at this place in consequence of the resolution I had taken to push into the interior on the following morning. I was therefore anxious that the horses should start as fresh as possible, as we could not say where we should again find water.

The direction of the hills was nearly north and south, extending at either hand to a distance beyond the range of vision or telescope. Our observations here placed us in latitude 31 degrees 23 minutes 20 seconds S., so that we were still nearly half a degree to the south of Mount Lyell, and a degree to the south of Mount Serle. I had little prospect of success, however, in pursuing a direct westerly course, as it would have led me into the visible scrub there; on the other hand I did not wish to move exactly parallel to the ranges, but, in endeavouring to gain a knowledge of the more remote interior, to keep such a course as would not take me too far from the hills in the event of my being obliged to fall back upon them. We started on the 11th, therefore, on a N.N.W. course, and on the bearing of the low hills we had seen to the westward, and which were now distinctly visible. For the first five miles we travelled over firm and open plains of clay and sand, similar to the soil of the plains of the Murray. At length the ground became covered with fragments of quartz rock, ironstone, and granite. It appeared as if M'Adam had emptied every stone he ever broke to be strewed over this metalled region. The edges of the stones were not, however, rounded by attrition, or mixed together, but laid on the plains in distinct patches, as if large masses of the different rocks had been placed at certain distances from each other and then shivered into pieces. The plains were in themselves of undulating surface, and appeared to extend to some low elevations on our left, connecting them with the main range as outer features; although in the distance they only shewed as a small and isolated line of hills detached about eleven miles from the principal groups, from which we were gradually increasing our distance. This outer feature prevented our seeing the north-west horizon until we gained an elevated part of it, whence it appeared that we should soon have to descend to lower ground than that on which we had been travelling. There was a small eminence that just shewed itself above the horizon to the N.N.W., and was directly in our course, enabling us to keep up our bearings with the loftier and still visible peaks on the ranges. We found the lower ground much less stony and more even than the higher ground, and our horses got well over it. At 4 p.m. we observed a line of gum-trees before us, evidently marking the line of a creek, the upper branch of which we had already noticed as issuing from a deep recess in the range. At the distance we were from the hills, we had little hope of finding water; on approaching it, however, we alarmed some cockatoos and other birds, and observed the recent tracks of emus in the bed of the creek. Flood, who had ridden a-head, went up it in search for water. Mr. Browne and I went downwards, and from appearances had great hopes that at a particular spot we should succeed by digging, more especially as on scraping away a little of the surface gravel with our hands, there were sufficient indications to induce us to set Morgan to work with a spade, who in less than an hour dug a hole from which we were enabled to supply both our own wants and those of our animals; and as there was good grass in the creek, we tethered them out in comfort. This discovery was the more fortunate, as Flood returned unsuccessful from his search.

The gum-trees on this creek were of considerable size; and many of the shrubs we had found in the creek, at the glen, were in beautiful flower in its broad and gravelly bed, along which the Clyanthus was running with its magnificent blossoms; a situation where I certainly did not expect to find that splendid creeper growing. It was exceedingly curious to observe the instinct which brought the smaller birds to our well. Even whilst Morgan was digging, and Mr. Browne and I sitting close to him, some Diamond birds (Amandina) were bold enough to perch on his spade; we had, in the course of the day, whilst passing over the little stony range, been attracted to a low Banksia, by seeing a number of nests of these little birds in its branches, and of which there were no less than fourteen. In some of them were eggs, and in others young birds; so that it appeared they lived in communities, or congregated together to breed. But we had numberless opportunities of observing the habits of this interesting little bird, whose note cheered us for months, and was ever the forerunner of good, as indicating the existence of water.

We placed the cart under a gum-tree, in which the cockatoos we had alarmed when descending into the creek had a nest. These noisy birds (Plyctolophus Leadbeaterii) kept incessantly screeching to their young, which answered them in notes that resembled the croaking of frogs, more than anything else.

On the 11th we left the creek, well satisfied with our night's occupation of it, as also, I believe, to the still greater satisfaction of our noisy friends. For about two and a half or three miles there was every appearance of an improving country It was open, and in many places well covered with grass; and although at three miles it fell off a little, still the aspect on the northern side of the creek was, to a considerable distance, preferable to that on the south side. At 11 a.m. we gained the crest of the little stony hill we had seen the day before to the N.N.W., and from it were enabled not only to take back bearings, but to carry others forward. We were fast losing sight of the hills, whose loftier summits alone were visible, yet we now saw fresh peaks to the north, which satisfied me that they continued in that direction far beyond the most distant one we had seen. From this circumstance I was led to hope that we might fall on another creek, and so gradually, but surely, work our way to the N.W.

On descending from the little hill, however, we traversed an inferior country, and at two miles saw a few scattered Pine-trees. Shortly afterwards, on breaking through a low scrub, we crossed a ridge of sand, on which numerous Pine-trees were growing. These ridges then occurred in rapid succession, separated by narrow flats only; the soil being of a bright red clay covered with Rhagodiae, and having bare patches on them. The draught over this kind of country became a serious hindrance to our movements, as it was very heavy, and the day excessively hot, the horses in the team suffered much. I therefore desired Morgan to halt, and, with Mr. Browne, rode forward in the hope of finding water, for he had shot a new and beautiful pigeon, on the bill of which some moist clay was adhering; wherefore we concluded that he had just been drinking at some shallow, but still unexhausted, puddle of water near us: we were, however unsuccessful in our search; but crossed pine ridge after pine ridge, until at length I thought it better to turn back to the cart, and, as we had already travelled some 25 miles, to halt until the morning; more especially as there was no deficiency of grass on the sand ridges, and I did not apprehend that our horses would suffer much from the want of water.

Whatever idea I might have had of the character of the country into which we had penetrated, I certainly was not prepared for any so singular as that we encountered. The sand ridges, some partially, some thickly, covered with Pine-trees, were from thirty to fifty feet high, and about eighty yards at their base, running nearly longitudinally from north to south. They were generally well covered with grass, which appeared to have been the produce of recent rains; and several very beautiful leguminous plants were also growing on them. I did not imagine that these ridges would continue much longer, and I therefore determined, the following morning to push on. Our position was in lat. 30 degrees 40 minutes S. and in longitude 140 degrees 51 minutes E. nearly.

On the morning of the 12th we commenced our day's journey on a N.W. course, as I had proposed to Mr. Browne. Flood had been about half a mile to the eastward, in the hope of finding water before we rose, but was disappointed; the horses did not, however, appear to have suffered from the want of it during the night. On starting I requested Mr. Browne to make a circuit to the N.E. for the same purpose, as we had observed many birds fly past us in that direction; and I sent Flood to the westward, but both returned unsuccessful. Nevertheless, although we could not find any water, the country improved.

The soil was still clay and sand, but we crossed some very fine flats, and only wanted water to enjoy comparative luxury. Both the flats and the ridges were well clothed with grass, and the former had box-trees and hakeas scattered over them; but these favourable indications soon ceased. The pine ridges closed upon each other once more, and the flats became covered with salsolaceous plants. The day was exceedingly hot, and still more oppressive in the brushes, so that the horses began to flag. At 2 p.m. no favourable change had taken place. Our view was limited to the succeeding sand hill; nor, by ascending the highest trees, could we see any elevated land at that hour; therefore I stopped, as the cart got on so slowly, and as the horses would now, under any circumstances, be three days without water, I determined on retracing my steps to the creek in which we had dug the well. I directed Mr. Browne, with Flood, however, to push on, till sunset, in the hope that he might see a change. At sunset I commenced my retreat, feeling satisfied that I had no hope of success in finding water so far from the hills. Turning back at so late an hour in the afternoon, it was past midnight when we reached the sand ridge from which we had started in the morning; where we again stopped until dawn, when proceeding onwards, and passing a shallow puddle of surface water, that was so thick with mud and animalculae as to be unfit to drink, we gained the creek at half-past 4 p.m. Mr. Browne and Flood joined us some little time after sunset, having ridden about 18 miles beyond the point at which we had parted, but had not noticed any change. The sandy ridges, Mr. Browne informed me, continued as far as he went; and, to all appearance, for miles beyond. The day we returned to the creek was one of most overpowering heat, the thermometer at noon being 117 degrees in the shade. I had promised to wait for Mr. Browne at the shallow puddle, but the sun's rays fell with such intense effect on so exposed a spot that I was obliged to seek shelter at the creek. It blew furiously during the night of the 13th, in heated gusts from the north-east, and on the morning of the 14th the gale continued with unabated violence, and eventually became a hot wind. We were, therefore, unable to stir. The flies being in such myriads around us, so that we could do nothing. It is, indeed, impossible for me to describe the intolerable plague they were during the whole of that day from early dawn to sunset.

On the night of the 14th it rained a little. About 3 a.m. the wind blew round to the north-west, and at dawn we had a smart shower which cooled the air, reducing the temperature to something bearable. The sun rose amidst heavy clouds, by which his fiery beams were intercepted in their passage to the earth's surface. Before we quitted our ground I sent Flood up the creek, to trace it into the hills, an intention I was myself obliged to forego, being anxious to remain with the cart. The distance between the two creeks is about 26 miles, but, as I have already described the intervening country, it may not be necessary to notice it further. I was unable to take many back bearings, as the higher portions of the ranges were enveloped in mist. We reached the glen at half-past 5 p.m., and took up our old berth just at the gorge, preparatory to ascending the hills on the following day. Flood had already arrived there, and informed me that he had not followed the creek to where it issued from the ranges, but had approached very nearly, and could see the point from which it broke through them. That he had not found any surface water, but had tried the ground in many places, and always found water at two or three inches depth, and that where the water was the most abundant the feed was also the most plentiful.

As I had anticipated, we had heavy rain all night, and in the morning continual flying thunder-storms. We started, however, at eight, and, leaving the cart to push on for the rocky gully, Mr. Browne and I proceeded to ascend some of the higher peaks, which we had not had time to do in our advance. We accordingly turned into a narrow valley, in the middle of which was the bed of a rocky watercourse, and on either side of it were large clusters of the Clematis in full flower, that, mixed with low bushes of Jasmine, sent forth a most delicious perfume. After winding up this valley for about a mile and a half, we were stopped by a wall of rock right across it, and obliged to turn back. We were, however, more fortunate in our next attempt, and succeeded in gaining the summit of one of the loftiest hills on the range, on the very top of which we found large boulders of rocks, imbedded in the soil. They varied in size, from a foot in diameter to less, and were rounded by attrition, just like the rounded stones in the bed of a river, or on the sea shore. The hill itself was of schistose formation, the boulders of different kinds of rocks, and very sparingly scattered through the soil. We had scarcely reached the summit of this hill, when it was enveloped in thick clouds, from which the lightning flashed, and the thunder pealed close to us, and crack after crack reverberated along the valleys. It soon passed away, however, and left us well drenched, but the western horizon was still black with clouds. From this hill we proceeded to another, which at first sight I had thought was of volcanic origin, but proved to be like the first, of schistose formation, and was covered with low scrub. About 2 p.m. we had finished our work, and the sun shone out. On looking back towards the plains we now saw them flashing in the light of waters, and I regretted that we had been forced to retreat before the rains set in. However, seeing that the country was now in a fitter state to travel over, I determined on returning with all speed, to give Mr. Poole an opportunity to pass to the point where I had been, whilst I should move the party over the hills. We struck across the ranges, direct for the rocky gully, from the last hill we ascended, and rode past some very romantic scenery, but I had not time to make any sketch of it. Flood and Morgan had already arrived in the glen, and tethered out the horses in some long grass. At this place we were about 38 miles distant from the camp; but, as the cart could not travel so far in one day, I directed the men to bring it up, and on the morning of the 18th left them for the camp, with Mr. Browne, where we arrived at sunset. But little rain had fallen during the day, still it was easy to foretell that it had not ceased. The wind, for the last three days, had been blowing from the N.W., but on the 19th flew round to the S.E., and although no rain fell during the day, heavy clouds surrounded us. Considering, however, the rapidity of evaporation in such a climate, and the certainty that the rains would be followed by extreme heat, I was anxious that Mr. Poole should proceed on his journey without delay, he accordingly prepared to leave us on the 20th.

The reader will have inferred, from what I have said on the subject, that my object at this particular time was to attain the meridian of Mount Arden, as soon as circumstances should enable me. Had not this intention influenced me, on my recent journey, I should have kept nearer to the ranges; but I hoped, by taking a westerly course, that I should strike the N.E. angle of Lake Torrens, or find that I had altogether cleared it; added to this Mr. Eyre had informed me that he could not see the northern shore of that lake; I therefore thought that it might be connected with some more central body of water, the early discovery of which, in my progress to the N.W., would facilitate my future operations. This was a point whereon I was most anxious to obtain information; but, as my horses were knocked up, it appeared to me, that Mr. Poole, with fresh horses, would find no difficulty in gaining a distance sufficiently great to enable me to act on the knowledge he might acquire of the distant interior.

In my instructions to that officer therefore, I directed him to pursue a general N.W. course, as the one most likely to determine the questions on the several points to which I called his attention. "Should you," I said, "reach the shores of Lake Torrens, or any body of water of unknown extent, you will endeavour to gain every information on that head; but if you should not strike any basin of either description, you will do your uttermost to ascertain if a westerly course is open to us, after you shall have reached lat. 30 degrees to enable me to gain the 138 degrees meridian, as soon as circumstances will permit. Should the supply of water which the recent rains will ensure for a time, be likely to fail, or if the rains should not have extended so far as you would desire to go, and your advance be thus rendered hazardous, it will be discretionary with you to return direct to the camp, or turn to the eastward, and proceed along the western flanks of the ranges, but you are on no account to endanger either yourself or party by an attempt to push into the interior, to a distance beyond that which prudence might reasonably justify. Should you return along the ranges you will examine any creek or water-course you may intersect, and bring me the fullest information as to the supply of water and feed. Should you, on the other hand, discover any very extensive sheet of water, you will, after ascertaining its extent and direction, as far as your means will allow, return immediately to the camp; as, in the event of our requiring the boat, many necessary preparations will have to be made, that will take a considerable length of time to complete, during which the examination of the country to the north can be carried on with advantage.

"You will select the men you would wish to accompany you, and will provide as well for your comfort as safety; for although these regions do not seem to be inhabited at the present moment, at least in that part from whence I have just returned, it will be necessary for you to be always on your guard, even although no apparent danger may be near."

Mr. Browne had greatly recovered from his late indisposition, and as Mr. Poole intimated to me that he had expressed his willingness to accompany him, I had several reasons for giving my assent to this arrangement.

On the morning of the 20th it still continued to rain, insomuch that I was anxious Mr. Poole should postpone his departure, but clearing up at noon, he left me and proceeded on his journey. In the evening, however, we had heavy and violent showers; all night it poured in torrents with thunder and lightning, but the morning of the 21st was clear and fine. A vast quantity of rain however had fallen. The creek was overflowing its banks, and the ground in such a state that it would have been impossible to have moved the drays. The temperature was exceedingly cold, although the thermometer did not fall below 66 degrees at half-past 2 p.m. the hottest part of the day. Such a temperature I am aware would be considered agreeable in England, but in a climate like that of Australia, where the changes are so sudden, they are more severely felt. Only a few days before the thermometer had ranged from 108 degrees to 117 degrees in the shade, thus at once causing a difference of 42 degrees and 51 degrees, and I am free to say that it was by no means agreeable. On the 22nd I commenced my advance over the ranges, although the ground was hardly then in a condition to bear the weight of the drays. We were indeed obliged to keep on the banks of the creek as they were higher and firmer than the plains, but after all we only made seven miles and halted, I had almost said without water, for notwithstanding the recent rains, there was not a drop in the bed of the creek, nor could we get any other than a scanty supply by digging; Jones, however, one of the bullock drivers, found a shallow pool upon the plains to which the cattle were driven.

On the way I ascended a small hill composed of mica slate, and on its summit found two or three specimens of tourmaline. The boiling point of water on this hill was 210 degrees, the thermometer stood at 70 degrees.

On the 25th we crossed the little dividing range connected with Lewis's Hill, which last I again ascended to verify my bearings, as we had erected three pyramids on the Coonbaralla range that were visible from it. I also availed myself of the slow progress of the drays, to ascend a hill at some little distance from our line, which was considerably higher than any of those near it, and was amply rewarded for my trouble by the extensive view it afforded.

Our specimens and collections were at this period exceedingly limited, nor did there appear to be any immediate chance of increasing them. The most numerous of the feathered race were the owls, (Strix flameus.) These birds flew about in broad daylight, and kept the camp awake all night by their screeching, it being at that time the breeding season. The young birds generally sat on a branch near the hole in which they had been hatched, and set up a most discordant noise about every quarter of an hour, when the old ones returned to them with food.

On trying the thermometers, one on Lewis's Hill, and the other on the Black Hill, I found that they boiled at 209 degrees and 208 degrees respectively.

On the 26th Jones was unfortunate enough to snap the pole of his dray, and I was consequently detained on the 27th repairing it. I was the more vexed at the accident, being anxious to push over the ranges and gain the plains, in order to prevent Mr. Poole the necessity of re-ascending them. I felt satisfied that I should find a sufficiency both of water and feed at the gorge of the Rocky Glen, to enable me to rest until more thorough knowledge of the country could be gained, whilst by encamping at that place I should save Mr. Poole a journey of 63 miles.

As we descended from the ranges I observed that all the water I had seen glittering on the plains had disappeared; I found too that the larger water-hole in the glen had rather fallen than increased during the rains. The fact however was, that the under-drainage had not yet reached the lower part of the gully.

We were now about 24 miles from the second creek Mr. Browne and I had crossed on our recent excursion, and from Flood's examination of it afterwards, I felt assured that unless a party was sent forward to dig a large hole for the cattle I could not prudently advance any farther for the present; but being anxious to push on, and hoping that the late rains had increased the supply of water in the creek, I sent Flood on the 28th with two of the men (Joseph and Sullivan) to dig a tank in the most favourable spot he could select, and followed him with the drays on the 29th. Wishing however to examine the country a little to the westward, I desired the men to keep on the plains about two miles from the foot of the ranges, until they should strike the creek or Flood should join them, and did not reach the encampment before eight o'clock.

Flood then told me that he had been to the place where he had before found most surface water; but that, notwithstanding the rains, it was all gone. He had tried the creek downwards, and had at length sunk a tank opposite to a little gully, thinking that it might influence the drainage. The tank was quite full, and continued so for two or three days after, when, without any great call upon it from the cattle, it sensibly diminished, and at length dried up, and we should have been obliged to fall back, if in tracing up the little gully we had not found a pond that enabled us to keep our ground. It often happened that we thus procured water in detached localities when there was not a drop in the main channels of the creeks. At this place the boiling point of the thermometer was 212 degrees; thus bringing us again pretty nearly on a level with the ocean, although we were at the time distant from it more than 480 miles.

At this period we had frequent heavy winds, with a heated temperature: yet our animals, if I except the dogs, did not suffer much. The sheep, it is true, would sometimes refuse to stir, and assemble in the shade, when on the march, whilst the dogs took shelter in wambut holes, and poking their heads out, would bark at their charge to very little purpose. It was evident, indeed, that the heat was fast increasing, and what we had already experienced was only an earnest of that which was to follow.

Mr. Poole had now been absent thirteen days, and I began to be anxious for his return. Our march to the second creek had again shortened his homeward journey 70 miles, and as I felt assured he would cross the creek at the point where we had dug the well, I stuck a pole up in it, with instructions, and on the 2nd December he rode into the camp with Mr. Browne, both much fatigued, as well as their horses. I had been engaged the greater part of the day fixing the points for another base line, as I was fearful that the angles of our first were too acute, and found that the party had got back on my return to the camp.

Mr. Poole informed me that as soon as the weather cleared, after leaving me on the range, he had pushed on. That on the 24th he left my cart tracks as they turned to the N.W., and continued the N.N.W. course as I had directed. On that day he encamped early at a good water-hole, as the horses had travelled fast; the country thereabouts had become more open, but water was exceedingly scarce. On this day he ascended a small sandstone hill, from which some high peaks on the range bore S.S.E.

On the 26th he had not advanced 10 miles, when the pack-horse fell exhausted by heat. Mr. Poole then consulted with Mr. Browne, and it was thought better by both to travel at night, and they accordingly did so. The country by moonlight appeared more open, and the water seemed to be in greater abundance, as if much more rain had fallen thereabouts than to the south. They continued a N.N.W. course until daylight, when they halted, and Mr. Browne ascended a sand hill, from whence he saw peaks on the range bearing to the north of east, and the Mount Serle range, bearing due west, distant 50 miles. The latter circumstance induced Mr. Poole, when he again resumed his journey, to change his course to west, in the hope that as he had passed the 30th parallel he should find Lake Torrens between himself and the ranges. Accordingly, on starting at 4 p.m. they went on that course, and halted at dawn on a swampy flat, under a gum-tree. Mr. Poole subsequently ascertained that the swamp was the head of a little creek falling into the Sandy Lake, where he afterwards terminated his journey.

The country had now assumed a very barren appearance. At sunrise Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne ascended another sand hill, from whence they again saw the hills to the westward, seemingly very high and steep; but there was no sign of an intermediate basin, the country towards the ranges bearing a most sterile aspect. Here Mr. Browne saw a new pigeon, which had a very singular flight.

On the afternoon of the 28th the party moved on a course of 10 degrees to the south of west, down a leading valley, the country becoming still more barren, the sand ridges quite bare, and only an occasional hakea on the flats. At eight miles on the above course, and from the top of a sandy ridge at the distance of two miles, they saw a sheet of water about a mile and a half in length, in a sandy bed extending to the north, without any visible termination. There was another sheet of water to the south of this in the same kind of bed, connected with the larger one by a dry channel. It appeared from the lay of the country that these sheets of water were formed by drainage from the barren ranges from which Mr. Poole calculated he was 15 to 18 miles distant. The lakes were about three miles in length, taking the two together, the water was slightly brackish, and in Mr. Poole's opinion they might during the summer season be dry. He again ascended the sandy ridge and observed that he was immediately opposite to three remarkable peaks, similar to those marked down by Mr. Eyre. The party then turned homewards, and encamped on the creek at the head of which they had slept the night before, where they could hardly rest for the swarms of mosquitos. Pursuing their journey towards the camp on the following morning, keeping some few miles to the westward of their former line, they passed through a similar country. At noon, on the 1st of December, they were still amongst the pine ridges; after noon the country began to improve, and they rode across large plains well grassed and covered with acacia trees of fine growth, but totally destitute of water; they were in consequence obliged to tether the horses all night. They reached the creek in which I had erected the pole, early on the following morning, and there found the paper of instructions informing them of the removal of the camp to within a mile of where they then were.

It was evident from the result of this excursion, and from the high northerly point Mr. Poole had gained, that he had either struck the lower part of the basin of Lake Torrens or some similar feature. It was at the same time, however, clear that the country was not favourable for any attempt to penetrate, since there was no surface water. I felt indeed that it would be imprudent to venture with heavily loaded drays into such a country; but although I found a westerly course as yet closed upon me, I still hoped that we should find larger waters in the north-west interior, from the fact of the immense number of bitterns, cranes, and other aquatic birds, the party flushed in the neighbourhood of the lakes. Whence could these birds (more numerous at this point than we ever afterwards saw them) have come from? To what quarter do they go? They do not frequent the Murray or the Darling in such numbers, neither do they frequent the southern portion of the coast. If then they are not to be found in those localities, what waters do they inhabit in the interior?

On the 4th I sent Flood to the north in search of water, directing him to keep at a certain distance from the ranges, with especial instructions not to proceed beyond 60 or 70 miles, but in the event of his finding water within that distance to return immediately to the camp. During his absence I was abundantly occupied, and anxious that Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne should have a little rest after their late journey. Both those gentlemen were however too interested in the service in which they were engaged to remain idle when they could be usefully employed. Mr. Poole went out with me on the 5th and 6th to assist in the measurement of the new base line I had deemed it prudent to run, for the purpose, as I have said, of correcting any previous error. Mr. Piesse examined the pork, and according to my instructions made out a list of the stores on hand, when I found it necessary to make a reduction in the allowance of tea and sugar, in consequence of the loss of weight. The former from 4 oz. to 3 oz. per week, the latter from 2 lb. to 1 1/2 lb.

The heat had now become excessive, the thermometer seldom falling under 96 degrees, and rising to 112 degrees and 125 degrees in the shade. The surface of the ground never cooled, and it was with difficulty that we retained any stones in our hands that had been exposed to the sun; still we had not as yet experienced a hot wind. The existing heat was caused by its radiation from the earth's surface and the intensity of the solar rays.

The horses Mr. Poole had out with him, had suffered a good deal, and considering that if the country should continue as heretofore, and we should be obliged to hunt incessantly for water, we should require relays, I thought it advisable to do away with the horse-team, as the consumption of provisions now enabled me to divide the load the horses had drawn equally amongst the bullocks. We finished the base line on the 7th, and I was glad to find that it was of sufficient length to ensure a favourable result, it being rather more than 10 miles.

All drainage in the creek had now ceased, and we were therefore dependent on the water in the gully, which, although invaluable as a present supply, would soon have been exhausted, where our total consumption could not have been less than from 1000 to 1100 gallons a day, for the horses and bullocks drank a fearful quantity. Had Flood been unsuccessful in the object of his journey, therefore, I should in the course of a few days have been obliged to fall back, but he returned on the 7th, bringing news that he had found a beautiful little creek, in which there were long deep water-holes shaded by gum-trees, with an abundance of grass in its neighbourhood. This creek he said was about 40 miles in advance, but there was no water between us and it. He also confirmed an impression I had had on my mind from our first crossing the Barrier Range, that it would not continue to any great distance northwards; Flood said that from what he could observe the hills appeared to be gradually declining, as if they would soon terminate. He saw three native women at the creek, but did not approach them, thinking it better not to excite their alarm. These were the first natives we had seen on the western side of the hills.

On the 9th we again moved forward, on a course a little to the eastward of north, over the barren, stony, and undulating ground that lies between the main and outer ranges. The discovery of this creek by Flood, so much finer than any we had hitherto crossed, led me to hope that if the mountains should cease I might fall in with other ranges beyond them coming from the north-east, as forming the northwest slope of the valley of the Darling. I was anxious, therefore, to examine the ranges as we advanced, and leaving the party in Mr. Poole's charge, rode away to ascend some of the hills and to take bearings from them to some particular peaks, the bearing of which had already been taken from different elevations; but from no hill to which I went could a view of the south-west horizon be obtained, so much lower had the hills become, and from their general aspect I was fully satisfied that we should soon arrive at their termination. From the last point I ascended, as from others, there was a large mountain bearing N.E. by N. from me, distant 50 or 60 miles, which I rightly judged to be Mount Lyell. It was a bold, round hill, without any particular feature, but evidently the loftiest connected with the Barrier Range. Mount Babbage bore N. by E. and was only just visible above the dark scrubs between me and it. The teams were keeping rather nearer the hills than Flood had gone, and were moving directly for a line of trees apparently marking the course of a creek. On my way to overtake the party, I met Mr. Browne and Flood on the plains, with whom I rode back. As we crossed these plains we flushed numerous pigeons—a pair, indeed, from under almost every bush of rhagodia that we passed. This bird was similar to one Mr. Browne had shot in the pine forest, and this was clearly the breeding season; there were no young birds, and in most of the nests only one egg. We should not, however, have encumbered ourselves with any of the young at that time, but looked to a later period for the chance of being able to take some of that beautiful description of pigeon home with us. The old birds rose like grouse, and would afford splendid shooting if found in such a situation at any other period than that of incubation; at other times however, as I shall have to inform the reader, they congregate in vast flocks, and are migratory.

Fortunately, at that part of the creek where the party struck it, there was a small pool of water, at which we gladly halted for the night, having travelled about 28 miles; our journey to Flood's Creek on the following day was comparatively short. Flood had not at all exaggerated his account of this creek, which, as an encouragement, I named after him. It was certainly a most desirable spot to us at that time; with plenty of water, it had an abundance of feed along its banks; but our tents were pitched on the rough stony ground flanking it, under cover of some small rocky hills. To the north-west there was a very pretty detached range, and westward large flooded flats, through which the creek runs, and where there was also an abundance of feed for the stock.

Although, as I have observed, the heat was now very great, the cereal grasses had not yet ripened their seed, and several kinds had not even developed the flower. Everything in the neighbourhood of the creek looked fresh, vigorous, and green, and on its banks (not, I would observe, on the plains, because on them there was a grass peculiar to such localities) the animals were up to their knees in luxuriant vegetation. We there found a native wheat, a beautiful oat, and a rye, as well as a variety of grasses; and in hollows on the plains a blue or purple vetch not unusual on the sand ridges, of which the cattle were very fond. In crossing the stony plains to this creek we picked up a number of round balls, of all sizes, from that of a marble to that of a cannon ball; they were perfect spheres, and hollow like shells, being formed of clay and sand cemented by oxide of iron. Some of these singular balls were in clusters like grape-shot, others had rings round them like Saturn's ring; and as I have observed, the plains were covered with them in places. There can be no doubt, I think, but that they were formed by the action of water, and that constant rolling, when they were in a softer state, gave them their present form.

The day succeeding that of our arrival at Flood's Creek was one of tremendous heat; but in the afternoon the wind flew round to the S.W. from the opposite point of the compass, and it became cooler. On the 11th, I detached Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne, with a fortnight's provisions, to the N.E. in search of water. It may appear that I had given these officers but a short respite from their late labours; but the truth is that a camp life is a monotonous one, and both enjoyed such excursions, and when there was no necessity for other arrangements, as they evinced a great interest in the expedition, I was glad to contribute to their pleasures, and should have rejoiced if it had fallen to their lot to make any new and important discovery.

My instructions to Mr. Poole on these occasions were general. To keep a course somewhat to the eastward of north, but to be guided by circumstances. I thought it better to give him that discretionary power, since I could not know what changes might take place in the country.

I sent Flood at the same time to ride along the base of the ranges; but desired him not to be absent more than three or four days, as I myself contemplated an excursion to the eastward, to examine the country on that side as I passed up it.

The reader will observe, that although slowly, we were gradually, and, I think, steadily working our way into the interior. At that time I hoped with God's blessing we should have raised the veil that had so long hung over it, more effectually than we did. Up to that period we had been exceedingly fortunate; nothing had occurred to disturb the tranquillity of our proceedings; no natives to interrupt our movements; no want either of water or grass for our cattle, however scarce the parties scouring the country might have found it; no neglect on the part of the men, and a consequent efficient state of the whole party. But time brings round events to produce a change in all things; the book of fate being closed to our inspection, it is only from the past that we discover what its pages before concealed from us.



CHAPTER V.



NATIVE WOMEN—SUDDEN SQUALL—JOURNEY TO THE EASTWARD—VIEW FROM MOUNT LYELL—INCREASED TEMPERATURE—MR. POOLE'S RETURN—HIS REPORT—LEAVE FLOOD'S CREEK—ENTANGLED IN THE PINE FOREST—DRIVE THE CATTLE TO WATER—EXTRICATE THE PARTY—STATE OF THE MEN—MR. POOLE AND MR. BROWNE LEAVE THE CAMP—PROCEED NORTHWARDS—CAPT. STURT LEAVES FOR THE NORTH—RAPID DISAPPEARANCE OF WATER—MUDDY CREEK—GEOLOGICAL FORMATION—GYPSUM—PUSH ON TO THE RANGES—RETURN TO THE CREEK—AGAIN ASCEND THE RANGES—FIND WATER BEYOND THEM—PROCEED TO THE W.N.W.—RETURN TO THE RANGES—ANTS AND FLIES—TURN TO THE EASTWARD—NO WATER—RETURN TO THE CAMP—MR. POOLE FINDS WATER—MACK'S ADVENTURE WITH THE NATIVES—MOVE THE CAMP.

I was much surprised that the country was not better inhabited than it appeared to be; for however unfit for civilized man, it seemed a most desirable one for the savage, for there was no want of game of the larger kind, as emus and kangaroos, whilst in every tree and bush there was a nest of some kind or other, and a variety of vegetable productions of which these rude people are fond. Yet we saw not more than six or seven natives during our stay in the neighbourhood of Flood's Creek.

One morning some of the men had been to the eastward after the cattle, and on their return informed me that they had seen four natives at a distance. On hearing this I ordered my horse to be saddled, with the intention of going after them; but just at that moment Tampawang called out that there were three blacks crossing from the flats, to the eastward, I therefore told him to follow me, and started after them on foot. The ground was very stony, so that the poor creatures, though dreadfully alarmed, could not get over it, and we rapidly gained upon them. At last, seeing there was no escape, one of them stopped, who proved to be an old woman with two younger companions. I explained to her when she got calm, for at first she was greatly frightened, that my camp was on the creek, and I wanted the blackfellows to come and see me; and taking Tampawang's knife, which hung by a string round his neck, I shewed the old lady the use of it, and putting the string over her head, patted her on the back and allowed her to depart. To my surprise, in about an hour and a half after, seven natives were seen approaching the camp, with the slowness of a funeral procession. They kept their eyes on the ground, and appeared as if marching to execution. However, I made them sit under a tree; a group of seven of the most miserable human beings I ever saw. Poor emaciated creatures all of them, who no doubt thought the mandate they had received to visit the camp was from a superior being, and had obeyed it in fear and trembling. I made them sit down, gave them a good breakfast and some presents, but could obtain no information from them; when at length they slunk off and we never saw anything more of them. The men were circumcised, but not disfigured by the loss of the front teeth, perfectly naked, rather low in stature, and anything but good looking.

On the 12th, about midnight, we had a violent squall that at once levelled every tent in the camp to the ground. It lasted for about half an hour with terrific fury, but gradually subsided as the cloud from behind which it burst passed over us. A few drops of rain then fell and cooled the air, when I called all hands to replace the tents. I was up writing at the time, and of a sudden found myself sitting without anything above me save the blue vault of heaven. My papers, etc. were carried away, and the men could scarcely hear one another, so furiously did the wind howl in the trees.

On the 13th I left the camp in charge of Mr. Piesse my store-keeper, and with Mr. Stuart and Flood crossed the ranges to the eastward, intending to examine the country between us and the Darling. Immediately on the other side of the range there was a plain of great width, and beyond, at a distance of between 50 and 60 miles, was a range of hills running parallel to those near the camp. They terminated however at a bold hill, bearing E.N.E. from me, it was evidently of great height; beyond this hill there was another still higher to the north-east, which I believe was Mount Lyell. The first portions of the plain were open, and we could trace several creeks winding along them, but the distant parts were apparently covered with dense and black scrub. Descending to the eastward towards the plains we rode down a little valley, in which we found a small pool of water; at this we stopped for a short time, but as the valley turned too much to the north I left it, and pursuing an easterly course over the plains halted at seven miles, and slept upon them, under some low bushes. The early part of the day had been warm, with the wind at N.E., but in the evening it changed to the south, and the night was bitterly cold. On the morning of the 14th we were obliged to wrap ourselves up as well as we could, the wind still blowing keenly from the south. We travelled for more than five miles over grassy plains, and crossed the dry beds of several lagoons, in which not very long before there might have been water. At nine miles we entered a dense brush of pinetrees, acacia and other shrubs growing on pure sand. Through this we rode for more than 15 miles, to the great labour of our animals, as the soil was loose, and we had constantly to turn suddenly to avoid the matted and fallen timber. In this forest the temperature was quite different from that on the plains, and as we advanced it became perfectly oppressive. At about 15 miles we ascended a small clear sandy knoll, from whence we had a full view of Mount Lyell. I had expected that we should have found some creek near it, but the moment my eye fell on that naked and desolate mountain my hopes vanished. We had now approached it within five miles, and could discover its barren character. Although of great height (2000 feet), there did not appear to be a blade of vegetation, excepting on the summit, where there were a few casuarinae, but the pines grew high up in its rugged ravines, and the brush continued even to its base. I still however hoped that from the top we should see some creek or other, but in this expectation we were also disappointed. The same kind of dark and gloomy brush extended for miles all round, nor could we either with the eye or the telescope discover any change. Again to the eastward there were distant ranges, but no prominent hill or mountain to be seen. One dense forest lay between us and them, within which I could not hope to find water, and as we had been without from the time we left the little creek in the ranges near the camp, I determined on retracing my steps, my object in this journey having been fully gratified by the results. The country through which we had passed was barren enough, but that towards the Darling was still worse. I should, however, have pushed on to Mount Babbage, which loomed large and bore a little to the eastward of north; but I did not see that I should gain anything by prolonging my journey. We were now about 56 miles from the camp, and there was little likelihood of our finding any water on our way back; when we descended from the hill, therefore, I pressed into the pine forest, as far as I could, and then halted. On the following morning we crossed the plains more to the north than we had before done. About 11 a.m. we struck a creek, and startled a native dog in its bed which ran along the bank. In following this animal we stumbled on a pool of water, and stopped to breakfast. Wishing to examine the country there as far to the north as possible on my way back, I passed over the northern extremity of the ranges. They there appeared gradually to terminate, and a broad belt of pine scrub from the westward stretched across the country, below me, to the east, until it joined the forest, through a lower part of which we had penetrated to Mount Lyell; but beyond this scrub nothing was to be seen. On my return to the camp I examined the drays, and found that the hot weather had had a tremendous effect on the wheels; the felloes had shrunk greatly, and the tyres of all were loose. I therefore had them wedged and put into serviceable condition.

The heat at this period was every day increasing, and it blew violently from whatever point of the compass the wind came.

On the 17th I examined the stock, and was glad to find they were all in good condition, the horses fast recovering from their late fatigues, the cattle in excellent order, and the sheep really fat.

Mr. Stuart was generally employed over the chart, which now embraced more than 80 miles of a hilly country, and I was happy to find that our angles agreed.

As I have already observed, there were a great variety of the cereal grasses about Flood's Creek, but they merely occupied a small belt on either side of it. All the grasses were exceedingly green, and there was a surprising appearance of verdure along the creek. Beyond it, on both sides, were barren stony plains, on which salsolaceous plants alone grew. About 13 miles to the westward the pine ridges commenced, and between us and these were large flats of grassy land, over which the waters of the creek spread in times of flood.

The white owl here appeared, like other birds, at noon-day; but there were also numerous other night birds. Here too the black-shouldered hawk collected in flights of thirty or forty constantly on the wing, but we never saw them take any prey; nor, (although we invariably examined their gizzards,) could we discover upon what they lived.

Our lunars placed us in long. 141 degrees 18 minutes 2 seconds E. and lat. 30 degrees 49 minutes 29 seconds S. Up to this point we had traversed nothing but a desert, which, as far as our examinations had extended, was worse on either side than the line on which we were moving; how much further that gloomy region extended, or rather how far we were destined to wander into it, was then a mystery.

The heat now became so great that it was almost unbearable, the thermometer every day rose to 112 degrees or 116 degrees in the shade, whilst in the direct rays of the sun from 140 degrees to 150 degrees. I really felt much anxiety on account of Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne, who did not return to the camp until the 25th. So great was the heat, that the bullocks never quitted the shade of the trees during the day, and the horses perspired from their exertions to get rid of the mosquitos. On the 22nd the natives fired the hills to the north of us, and thus added to the heat of the atmosphere, and filled the air with smoke.

At 7 a.m. on the morning of that day the thermometer stood at 97 degrees; at noon it had risen 10 degrees, and at 3 p.m., the hottest period of the day, it rose to 118 degrees in the shade. The wind was generally from the E.S.E., but it drew round with the sun, and blew fresh from the north at mid-day, moderating to a dead calm at sunset, or with light airs from the west. A deep purple hue was on the horizon every morning and evening, opposite to the rising and setting sun, and was a sure indication of excessive heat.

On the 23rd I sent Flood and Lewis to the N.E., with instructions to return on Christmas-day. At this time the men generally complained of disordered bowels and sore eyes, but I attributed both to the weather, and to the annoyance of the flies and mosquitos. The seeds were ripening fast along the banks of the creek, and we collected as many varieties as we could; but they matured so rapidly, and the seed-vessels burst so suddenly that we had to watch them.

The comet, which we had first noticed on the 17th of the month, now appeared much higher and brighter than at first. Its tail had a slight curve, and it seemed to be rather approaching the earth than receding from it.

On the morning of the 24th, about 5 a.m., I was roused from sleep by an alarm in the camp, and heard a roaring noise as of a heavy wind in that direction. Hastily throwing on my clothes, I rushed out, and was surprised to see Jones's dray on fire; the tarpaulin was in a blaze, and caused the noise I have mentioned. As this dray was apart from the others, and at a distance from any fire, I was at a loss to account for the accident; but it appeared that Jones had placed a piece of lighted cowdung under the dray the evening before, to drive off the mosquitos, which must have lodged in the tarpaulin and set it on fire. Two bags of flour were damaged, and the outside of the medicine chest was a good deal scorched, but no other injury done. The tarpaulin was wholly consumed, and Jones lost the greater part of his clothes, a circumstance I should not have regretted if he had been in a situation to replace them.

Flood returned on the 25th, at 2 p.m., having found water in several places, but none of a permanent kind like that in the creek. He had fallen on a small and shallow lagoon, and had seen a tribe of natives, who ran away at his approach, although he tried to invite them to remain.

About an hour before sunset Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne returned, to the great relief of my mind; for, with every confidence in their prudence, I could not help being anxious in such a situation as that in which I was placed, my only companions having then been many days absent. They had nearly reached the 28th parallel, and had discovered an abundance of water, but Mr. Poole was more sanguine than Mr. Browne of its permanency.

The first water they found at the commencement of their journey, was at a distance of 40 miles and upwards, and as I felt assured we should have great difficulty in taking the cattle so far without any, I sent Flood, on the 26th, to try if he could find some intermediate pool at which I could stop. Mr. Poole informed me that the ranges still continued to the north, but that they were changed in character, and he thought they would altogether terminate ere long.

He also reported to me that the day he left the camp he pursued a N.N.E. course, skirting an acacia scrub, and that arriving at a small puddle of water at 12 miles, he halted. That on the 12th he started at six, and after travelling about three miles first got a view of distant ranges to the north; he soon afterwards entered an acacia scrub, and at 15 miles crossed a creek, the course of which was to the S.W., but there was no water in it. At five the party reached the hills, the acacia scrub continuing to within a mile of them; and as the day had been exceedingly warm, Mr. Poole encamped in a little gully. He then walked with Mr. Browne to the top of the nearest hill, and from it observed two lines of gum-trees in the plains below them to the north, which gave them hopes of finding water in the morning, as they were without any. Saw two detached ranges bearing 320 degrees and 329 degrees respectively, and a distant flat-topped hill, bearing 112 degrees from them, the country appearing to be open to the north.

On the 13th, the party pushed on at an early hour for the gum-trees, but found no water. Observed numerous flights of pigeons going to the N.W. Traced the creek down for two miles, when they arrived at a place where the natives had been digging for water; here Mr. Poole left Mr. Browne and went further down the creek, when he succeeded in his search; but finding, on his return, that Mr. Browne and Mack had cleared out the well and got a small supply of water, with which they had relieved the horses and prepared breakfast, he did not return to the water he had discovered, but proceeded to the next line of gum-trees where there was another creek, but without water in it; coming on a small quantity in its bed at two miles, however, they encamped. A meridian altitude of Aldebaran here gave their latitude 30 degrees 10 minutes 0 seconds S. On the following morning Mr. Poole started on a W.N.W. course for a large hill, from whence he was anxious to take bearings, and which he reached and ascended after a journey of 22 miles. From this hill, which he called the Magnetic Hill (Mount Arrowsmith), because on it the north point of the compass deviated to within 3 degrees of the south point, he saw high ranges to the north and north-east; a hill they had already ascended bore 157 degrees 30 minutes, and the flat-topped hill 118 degrees 30 minutes. From the Magnetic Hill, Mr. Poole went to the latter, and ascended the highest part of it. The range was rugged, and composed of indurated quartz, and there was a quantity of gypsum in round flat pieces scattered over the slopes of the hills. The country to the W. and W.N.W. appeared to be very barren. The range on which they were was perfectly flat at the top, and covered with the same vegetation as the plains below. From this point Mr. Poole went to the north, but at 12 miles changed his course to the N.E. for three miles, when he intersected a creek with gum-trees, and shortly afterwards found a large supply of permanent water. Their latitude at this point was 29 degrees 47 minutes S., and up to it no change for the better had taken place in the appearance of the country. On Monday, the 15th, Mr. Poole ascended several hills to take bearings before he moved on; he then proceeded up the creek to the north-west, and passed from fifteen to twenty large water-holes. At about three miles, Mr. Poole found himself on an open table land, on which the creek turned to the west. He, therefore, left it, and at two miles crossed a branch creek with water and grass. At 7 1/2 miles farther to the north crossed another creek, followed it for a mile, when it joined a larger one, the course of which was to the north-east. In this creek there were numerous large pools of water. Crossing it, Mr. Poole ascended a hill to take bearings, from which he descended to a third creek, where he stopped for the night. On the following morning he continued his journey to the north, being anxious to report to me the character of the ranges. At 12 miles over open plains he intersected a creek trending to the eastward, in which there was an abundant supply of water; but this creek differed from the others in having muddy water, and but little vegetation in its neighbourhood. Passed some native huts, and saw twenty wild turkeys. At 10 miles from this creek Mr. Poole struck another, the ranges being still 12 miles distant. The horses having travelled for the last 10 miles over barren stony plains, had lost their shoes, and were suffering greatly. Mr. Poole, therefore, stopped at this place, and on consulting with Mr. Browne, determined to return to the camp without delay. Accordingly on the following morning he rode to the hills with Mr. Browne, leaving Mack with the other horses to await his return, and at 10 a.m. ascended the range. The view from it was not at all encouraging. The hills appeared to trend to the N.E., and were all of them flat-topped and treeless. The country to the west and north-west was dark with scrub, and the whole region barren and desolate. After taking bearings, Mr. Poole descended, returned to the creek on which he had left Mack, and as I have already stated, reached the camp on the evening of the 25th.

It will be obvious to the reader that the great danger I had to apprehend was that of having my retreat cut off from the failure of water in my rear; or if I advanced without first of all exploring the country, of losing the greater number of my cattle. It may be said that my officers had now removed every difficulty; but notwithstanding that Mr. Poole was sanguine in his report of the probable permanency of the water he had found, I hesitated whether to advance or not; but considering that under all circumstances the water they had found would still be available for a considerable time, and that it would enable me to push still further to the north, I decided on moving forward at once; but the weather was at this time so terrifically hot, that I hardly dared move whilst it continued, more especially as we had so great a distance to travel without water. I kept the party in readiness, however, to move at a moment's notice. On the 27th we had thunder, but no rain fell, and the heat seemed rather to increase than to decrease. On the 28th, at 2 p.m., the wind suddenly flew round to the south, and it became cooler. In hopes that it would continue, I ordered the tents to be struck, and we left Flood's Creek at half-past 4. As soon as I had determined on moving, I directed Mr. Poole to lead on the party in the direction he thought it would be best to take, and mounting my horse, rode with Mr. Browne and Mr. Stuart towards the ranges, to take bearings from a hill I had intended to visit, but had been prevented from doing in consequence of the extreme heat of the weather. I did not, indeed, like leaving the neighbourhood without going to this hill. The distance, however, was greater than it appeared to be, and it was consequently late before we reached it; but once on the top we stood on the highest and last point of the Barrier Range; for although, as we shall learn, other ranges existed to the north, there was a broad interval of plain between us and them, nor were they visible from our position. We stood, as it were, in the centre of barrenness. I feel it impossible, indeed, to describe the scene, familiar as it was to me. The dark and broken line of the Barrier Range lay behind us to the south; eastward the horizon was bounded by the hills I had lately visited, and the only break in the otherwise monotonous colour of the landscape was caused by the plains we had crossed before entering the pine forest. From the south-west round to the east northwards, the whole face of the country was covered with a gloomy scrub that extended like a sea to the very horizon. To the north-west, at a great distance, we saw a long line of dust, and knowing it to be raised by the party, after having taken bearings and tried the point of boiling water, we descended to overtake it. In doing this we crossed several spurs, and found tolerably wide and grassy flats between them. Following one of these down we soon got on the open plains, and about half-past seven met Mr. Poole, who had left the party to go to a fire he had noticed to the eastward, which he thought was a signal from us that we had found water; but such had not been our good fortune.

I now halted the party until the moon should rise, and we threw ourselves on the ground to take a temporary repose, the evening being cool and agreeable. At 11 we again moved on, keeping a north course, under Mr. Poole's guidance, partly over stony plains, and partly over plains of better quality, having some little grass upon them, until 8 a.m. of the morning of the 29th, when we stopped for an hour. As day dawned, Mr. Poole had caught sight of the hill, as he thought, to the base of which he wished to lead the party, and under this impression we continued our northerly course at 9, until by degrees we entered a low brush, and from it got into a pine forest and amongst ridges of sand. Mr. Poole had crossed a similar country; but the sandy ridges had soon ceased, and in the hope that such would now be the case he pushed forward until it was too late to retreat, for the exertion had already been very great to the animals in so heated and inhospitable a desert. In vain did the men urge their bullocks over successive ridges of deep loose sand, the moment they had topped one there was another before them to ascend. Seeing that they were suffering from the heat, I desired the men to halt, and sending Mr. Poole and Mr. Stuart forward with the spare horses and sheep to relieve them as soon as possible, I remained with the drays, keeping Mr. Browne with me. We had not travelled more than half a mile, on resuming our journey, when we arrived at a dry salt lagoon, at which the sheep had stopped. I here determined on leaving two of the drays, in the hope that by putting an additional team into each of the others we should get on, although before this we had discovered that Mr. Poole had mistaken his object, and had inadvertently led us into the thickest of the pinery. The drivers, however, advanced but slowly with the additional strength I had given them, and it was clear they would never get out of their difficulties, unless some other plan were adopted. I therefore again stopped the teams, and sent Mr. Browne to the eastward to ascertain how far the ridges extended in that direction, since Mr. Poole's track appeared to be leading deeper into them. On his return he informed me that the ridges ceased at about a mile and a quarter; in consequence of which I turned to the north-east, but the bullocks were now completely worn out and refused to pull. To save them, therefore, it became necessary to unyoke and to drive them to water, and as Mr. Browne felt satisfied he could lead the way to the creek, I adopted that plan, and telling the men with the sheep to follow on our tracks, we left the drays, at 6 p.m., taking two of the men only with us, and clearing the sand ridges at dusk, entered upon and traversed open plains. We then stopped to rest the cattle until the moon should rise, and laid down close to them; but although we kept watch, they had well nigh escaped us in search for water. At half-past ten we again moved on, and at midnight reached a low brush, in which one of the bullocks fell, and I was obliged to leave him. About two hours afterwards another fell, but these were the total of our casualties. We reached the creek at 3 in the morning of the 30th, and rode to a fire on its banks, where we found Davenport and Joseph with the cart; they had separated from Mr. Poole, who was then encamped about a quarter of a mile to the westward of them, although Davenport did not know where he was, nor had he found water. Our situation would have been exceedingly perplexing, if Mr. Browne, who had led me with great precision to this point, had not assured me that he recognised the ground, and that as soon as day dawned he would take me to the water. Just at this moment we saw another fire to the eastward, to which I sent Morgan on horseback, who returned with Mr. Poole, when we were enabled to give the poor animals the relief they so much required.

Having thus secured the horses and bullocks, I turned my attention to the men in the forest, with regard to whom I had no occasion to feel any alarm, as I had left ten gallons of water for their use, and strictly cautioned them not to be improvident with it. However, as soon as he had had a little rest, I sent Morgan with a spare horse for their empty casks to replenish them. At 2 o'clock I sent Flood with four gallons of water to the nearest bullock that had fallen. About 11 Brock came up with the sheep all safe and well. Flood returned at 7, with information that the bullock was dead, but night closed in without our seeing anything of Morgan, and having nothing to eat we looked out rather anxiously for him. The water on which we rested was at some little distance from the creek, in a long narrow lagoon, but we had scarcely any shade from the intense heat of the sun, the water being muddy, thick, and full of frogs and crabs. I have observed upon the extreme and increasing heat that prevailed at this time. Notwithstanding this, however, the night was so bitterly cold that we were glad to put on anything to keep us warm. Our situation may in some measure account for this extreme variation of temperature, as we were in the bed of the creek which might yet have been damp, as its surface had only just dried up; perhaps also from exposure to such heat during the day we were more susceptible of the least change. Be that as it may, certain it is that as morning dawned on this occasion, when the thermometer stood at 67 degrees, we crept nearer to our fires for warmth, and in less than six hours afterwards were in a temperature of 104 degrees.

As we passed through the acacia scrub, we observed that the natives had lately been engaged collecting the seed. The boughs of the trees were all broken down, and there were numerous places where they had thrashed out the seed, and heaped up the pods. These poor people must indeed be driven to extremity if forced to subsist on such food, as its taste is so disagreeable that one would hardly think their palates could ever be reconciled to it. Natives had evidently been in our neighbourhood very lately, but we saw none.

At this time I was exceedingly anxious both about Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne, who were neither of them well. The former particularly complained of great pain, and I regretted to observe that he was by no means strong.

About 10 o'clock on the morning of the last day of the year 1844, I was with Tampawang at the head of the lagoon, trying to capture one of the building rats, a nest of which we had found under a polygonum bush. We had fired the fabric, and were waiting for the rats to bolt, when we saw Morgan riding up to us. He stopped when he got to the water, and throwing himself on the ground drank long at it. Seeing that he came without anything for which he had been sent, I began to apprehend some misfortune; but on questioning him I learnt that he had been at the drays, and was on his return, when, stopping on the plains to let his horses feed, he fell fast asleep, during which time they strayed, and he was obliged to leave everything and walk until he overtook his horse near the creek. He said the men had consumed all the water I had left with them, and were in great alarm lest they should die of thirst; I was exceedingly provoked at Morgan's neglect, more particularly as the comfort of the other men was involved in the delay, although they deserved to suffer for the prodigal waste of their previous supply. But it is impossible to trust to men in their sphere of life under such circumstances, as they are seldom gifted with that moral courage which ensures calmness in critical situations. I made every allowance too for their being in so hot a place, and it only remained for me to relieve them as soon as I could. I sent the ever ready Flood for the casks and provisions Morgan had left behind him, but it was necessarily late before he returned; I then directed him to get up two teams of the strongest bullocks, and with him and another of the men left Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne to go myself to the pine forest for two of the drays. About seven miles from the creek we met Lewis, who was on our tracks. He said he apprehended that Morgan had lost himself, and that he came on to ensure relief to the other men, who he said were suffering greatly from the want of water. At 9 p.m. we rounded up the cattle until the moon should rise, and made fires to prevent their escape. At 11 she rose, but it was behind clouds, so that it was 12 before we could move on. About two miles from the drays we saw Kirby wandering away from the track and called to him. This man would infallibly have been lost if we had not thus accidentally seen him. On reaching the party I found that Lewis had somewhat exaggerated the state of affairs, still the men were bad enough, although they had not then been 36 hours without water.

Notwithstanding that the moon had risen behind clouds, the first sun of the new year (1845) rose upon us in all his brightness, and the temperature increased as he advanced to the meridian. As Jones was with the hindmost drays, I sent Sullivan on my horse with some water for him, and ordered Flood to precede me with two of the drays along a flat I had noticed as I rode along, by which they would avoid a good many of the ridges. Sullivan returned with Jones about half-past ten, who, he told me, so far from wanting water had given all I had sent him to the dogs. As there were twelve bullocks to each dray I was obliged to give the drivers assistance, and consequently had to leave Jones by himself in the forest. I allowed him however to keep two of the dogs, and gave him four gallons of water, promising to send for him in two days. I then mounted my horse to overtake the teams, which by the time I came up with them had got on better than I expected. But the heat was then so intense that I feared the bullocks would drop. I therefore ordered the men to come slowly and steadily on, and as I foresaw that they would want more water ere long, I rode ahead to send them some. On my arrival at the creek I was sorry to find both Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne complaining, and very much indisposed. During the short time we had been at this spot, the water in the lagoon had rapidly diminished, and was now not more than a foot deep and very muddy. Fearing that the quality of the water was disagreeing with my officers, I ordered a well to be dug in the bed of the creek, from which we soon got a small quantity both clearer and better. Having despatched Joseph with a fresh supply for the party with the drays, I sat down to break my own fast which I had not done for many hours. In speaking to Mr. Browne of the intense heat to which we had been exposed in the pine forest, he informed me that the day had not been very hot with them, the thermometer not having risen above 94 degrees at 2 p.m.

The drays reached the creek at 3 a.m. on the morning of the 2nd, both men and cattle fairly worn out. I had hoped they would have arrived earlier, but the men assured me that shortly after I left them the heat was so great they could hardly move onwards. The ground became so heated that the bullocks pawed it to get to a cool bottom, every time they stopped to rest. The upper leathers of Mack's shoes were burnt as if by fire, and Lewis's back was sadly blistered. The dogs lost the skin off the soles of their feet, and poor Fingall, one of our best, perished on the road.

Amidst all the sufferings of the other animals the sheep thrived exceedingly well under Tampawang's charge who was a capital shepherd. Their fleeces were as white as snow, and some of them were exceedingly fat. On the 3rd I sent Mr. Stuart to the Magnetic hill, Mount Arrowsmith, to verify Mr. Poole's bearings, in consequence of the great deviation of the compass from its true point, and also to sketch in that isolated group of hills; but as he found the same irregularity in his compass, I did not trust to the bearings either he or Mr. Poole had taken. The rock of which that hill was composed is a compact sandstone, with blocks of specular iron ore scattered over it, highly magnetic.

In the hope that a ride would do both my officers good, I sent them on the 4th to trace the creek up, and to fix on our next halting place. I also despatched Flood to the pine forest for the remaining drays, sending an empty one to lighten the other loads; a precaution that proved of great advantage, as the bullocks got on much easier than on the former occasion, but the day also was much cooler.

Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne returned at 11 on the 5th, but I was sorry to observe that Mr. Browne looked very unwell, and Mr. Poole continued to complain. They had however succeeded in their mission, and as I was very anxious to get them to better water, our lagoon being all but dry, I determined on moving northward on the 7th.

Flood re-crossed the creek on the morning of the 6th, when the bullocks completed a task of about 170 miles in eight days.

As I had determined on moving on the 7th, it became necessary to examine the drays, and I was vexed to find that they wanted as much repair as they had done at Flood's Creek. The men were occupied wedging them up, and greasing them on the 6th, and finished all but that of Lewis, the repair of which threw it late in the day on the 7th, before we proceeded on our journey. Independently, however, of my anxiety on account of my officers, several of the men were indisposed, and I was glad to break up our camp and fix it in a healthier spot than this appeared to be.

We started at 5 p.m., but as we had only about eight miles to go, it was not a matter of much consequence. We arrived at our destination at 10 p.m., but had some difficulty in finding the water, nor do I think we should have done so if we had not been guided to it by the hoarse and discordant notes of a bull-frog.

I had sent Mr. Stuart in the morning to some hills on our left, and Mr. Browne had ridden in the same direction to collect some seeds of a purple Hibiscus, and neither had joined the party when it reached the creek, as soon therefore as the cattle were unyoked, I fired a shot which they fortunately heard. Our collection of natural history still continued scanty. A very pretty tree, a new species of Grevillia, out of flower, however, and which I only concluded to be a Grevillia from its habit, and the appearance of its bark, had taken the place of the gum-trees on the creeks, and the jasmine was everywhere common, but, with the exception of a few solani and some papilionaceous plants, we had seen nothing either new or rare.

Of birds the most numerous were the new pigeon and the black-shouldered hawk; but there was a shrike that frequented the creeks which I should have noticed before. This bird was about the size of a thrush, but had the large head and straight-hooked bill of its species; in colour it was a dirty brownish black, with a white bar across the wings. Whilst we were staying at Flood's Creek, one of these birds frequented the camp every morning, intimating his presence by a shrill whistle, and would remain for an hour trying to catch the tunes the men whistled to him. His notes were clear, loud, metallic and yet soft; their variety was astonishing, and his powers of imitation wonderful; there was not a bird of the forest that he did not imitate so exactly as to deceive. I would on no account allow this songster to be disturbed, and the consequence was that his rich note was the first thing heard at dawn of day, during the greater part of our residence in that neighbourhood.

We passed several native huts shortly after leaving the creek that were differently constructed from any we had seen. They were all arched elliptically by bending the bough of a tree at a certain height from the ground, and resting the other end on a forked stick at the opposite side of the arch. A thick layer of boughs was then put over the roof and back, on which there was also a thick coating of red clay, so that the hut was impervious to wind or heat. These huts were of considerable size, and close to each there was a smaller one equally well made as the larger. Both were left in perfect repair, and had apparently been swept prior to the departure of their inmates.

On the 8th we started at 5 a.m., and reached our destination (a place to which Mr. Poole had already been) at 11. We crossed barren stony plains, having some undulating ground to our left, and the magnetic hill as well as another to the south of it shewed as thunder clouds above the horizon. On our arrival at the creek we found about 30 fires of natives still burning, whom we must have frightened away. We did not see any of them, nor did I attempt to follow on their tracks which led up the creek.

As I have already stated the fall of Flood's Creek was to the west. The creek from which we had just removed, as well as the one on which we then were, fell in the opposite direction or to the eastward, terminating after short courses either in grassy plains or in shallow lagoons.

On the 9th I remained stationary, and thus gave Mr. Piesse an opportunity to examine a part of our stores. He reported to me that the flour had lost weight nearly 10 per cent., some of the bags not weighing their original quantity by upwards of sixteen pounds. As the men had their full allowance of meat, I thought it advisable, in consequence of this, to reduce the ration of flour to 7 lb. per week, and I should be doing an injustice to them if I did not give them credit for the readiness with which they acquiesced in this arrangement.

The 10th of the month completed the fifth of our wanderings. We left our position rather late in the day, and halted a little after sunset at the outskirt of a brush, into which I was afraid to enter by that uncertain light, and as the animals had been watered at a small creek we crossed not long before, I had no apprehension as to their suffering. We started at 4 a.m. on the morning of the 11th, and soon passed the scrub; we then traversed open plains thickly covered in many places with quartz, having crossed barren sandy plains on the other side of the scrub. We now found the country very open, and entirely denuded of timber, excepting on the creeks, the courses of which were consequently most distinctly marked. Keeping a little to the eastward to avoid the gullies connected with some barren stony hills to our left, we descended to the ground Mr. Poole had fixed upon as our next temporary resting place. To the eye of an inexperienced bushman its appearance was in every respect inviting; there was a good deal of grass in its neighbourhood; the spot looked cheerful and picturesque, with a broad sheet of water in the creek, which when Mr. Poole first saw it must have been much larger and deeper; but in the interval between his first and second visit, it had been greatly reduced, and now presented a broad and shallow surface, and I felt assured that it would too soon dry up. Convinced therefore of the necessity of exertion, to secure to us if possible a supply of water, on which we could more confidently rely, I determined on undertaking myself the task of looking for it without delay. Both Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne were better, and the men generally complained less than they had done. On Sunday, the 12th, we had thunder with oppressive heat, but no rain. On Monday the wind, which had kept with the regularity of a monsoon to the E.S.E., flew round to the N.W., the thermometer at noon standing at 108 degrees in the shade.

From the period at which we left Flood's Creek we had not seen any hills to the eastward, the ranges having terminated on that side. The hills we had passed were detached from each other, and to the westward of our course. The fall of the creek on which we were at this time encamped was consequently to the eastward, but there was a small hill about five miles to the E.N.E., under which it ran; that hill was the southern extremity of the ranges Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne had lately visited.

I left the camp on the 14th of the month, in the anxious hope that I should succeed in finding some place of more permanent safety than the one we then occupied, for we could almost see the water decrease, so powerful was the evaporation that was going on. I was accompanied by Mr. Browne and Mr. Poole, with Flood, Joseph, and Mack; but Mr. Poole only attended me with a view to his returning the next day with Mack, in the event of our finding water, to which he might be able to remove during my absence. We traced the creek upwards to the north-west, and at about four miles came to another, joining it from the westward. There was no water, but a good deal of grass about its banks, and it was evidently a tributary of no mean consequence. Crossing this we traced up the main creek on a more northerly course, having the Red Hill, subsequently called Mount Poole, on our left. We were obliged to keep the banks of the creek to avoid the rough and stony plains on either side. A little above the junction of the creek I have noticed, we passed a long water-hole, at which Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne had stopped on their excursion to the north; but it was so much diminished that they could hardly recognise it. The fact however shewed how uncertain our prospects were at this period. The bed of the creek was grassy, but broad, level, and gravelly. At almost every turn to which we came Mr. Poole assured me there had been, when he passed, a large sheet of water; but not a drop now remained, nor could we by scratching find the least appearance of moisture. Yet it was evident that this creek was at times highly flooded, there being a great accumulation of rubbish at the butts of the trees on the flats over which its waters must sweep, and the trunks of trees were lodged at a considerable height in the branches of those growing in its bed. Following its general course for 14 miles, we were led somewhat to the eastward of north, towards some hills in that direction, from which the creek appeared to issue, and then halted for the night, after a vain search for water. The Red Hill bore S. 47 degrees W., and some hills of less elevation were seen more to the westward of it, but beyond the last towards the north there were vast open and stony plains, destitute of timber and with very little vegetation upon them. On the morning of the 15th, at 5 p.m., we traversed these plains on a north course, and at 11 miles struck the creek of which Mr. Poole had spoken as containing muddy water, and found it precisely as he described. There were long water-holes about twenty-five feet broad, and three or four deep; but the water was exceedingly muddy. The banks were of a stiff, light-coloured clay, without any vegetation either on them or the contiguous flats, except a few bushes of polygonum growing under box-trees.

We here stopped to breakfast, although there was but little for the horses to eat. We then proceeded on a north-east {SOUTH-EAST in published text} course down the creek, keeping close upon its banks to avoid the macadamized plains on either side. To our left there were some undulating hills, and beyond them the summits of some remarkable flat-topped hills were visible. After leaving the place where we had breakfasted, we did not find any more water in the bed of the creek, but halted late in the afternoon at a small lagoon, not far from it. This lagoon was surrounded by trees; but like those of the creek its waters were muddy and not more than 18 inches deep. Our latitude at this point was 29 degrees 14 minutes S., and our longitude 141 degrees 42 minutes E.; the variation being 5 degrees 5 minutes E.

Not wishing to keep Mr. Poole any longer away from the party, I sent him back to the camp on the 16th, with Mack, directing him to examine the creek we had crossed on his way homewards; as it appeared to me to break through some hills about three miles from its junction with the main creek, and I thought it probable he might there find water. I also directed him during my absence to trace the creek on which the camp was established downwards, to ascertain if there was water in it below us.

In the mean time Mr. Browne and I pushed on for the ranges, which presented a very singular appearance as we surveyed them from the lagoon.

The geological formation of these hills was perfectly new, for they were now composed almost exclusively of indurated or compact quartz. The hills themselves no longer presented the character of ranges, properly so called, but were a group of flat-topped hills, similar to those figured by Flinders, King, and other navigators. Some were altogether detached from the main group, not more than two-thirds of a mile in length, with less than a third of that breadth, and an elevation of between three and four hundred feet. These detached hills were perfectly level at the top, and their sides declined at an angle of 54 degrees. The main group as we now saw it appeared to consist of a number of projecting points, connected by semicircular sweeps of greater or less depth. There was no vegetation on the sides either of the detached hills or of the projecting points, but they consisted of a compact white quartz, that had been split by solar heat into innumerable fragments in the form of parallelograms. Vast heaps of these laid at the base of the hills, and resembled the ruins of a town, the edifices of which had been shaken to pieces by an earthquake, and on a closer examination it appeared to me that a portion of the rock thus scaled off periodically. We approached these hills by a gradual ascent, over ground exceedingly stony in places; but as we neared them it became less so, the soil being a decomposition of the geological structure of the hills. It was covered with a long kind of grass in tufts, but growing closer together than usual. There were bare patches of fine blistered soil, that had as it were been raised into small hillocks, and on these, rounded particles, or stools, if I may so call them, of gypsum rested, oval or round, but varying in diameter from three to ten inches or more. These stools were perfectly flat and transparent, the upper surface smooth, but in the centre of the under surface a pointed projection, like that in a bull's eye in window glass was buried in the ground, as if the gypsum was in process of formation.

On leaving the lagoon, we crossed the creek, riding on a north-east course over stony plains, and at five miles struck another creek in which we found a good supply of water, coming direct from the hills, and continuing to the S.S.E., became tributary to the one we had just left. I had taken bearings of two of the most prominent points on the ranges from the lagoon, and directing Flood to go to one of them with Joseph, and wait for me at the base, I rode away with Mr. Browne to ascend the other; but finding it was much farther than we had imagined, that it would take us out of our way, and oblige us to return, we checked our horses and made for the other hill, at the foot of which Flood had already arrived. The ascent was steep and difficult, nor did the view from its summit reward our toil. If there was anything interesting about it, it was the remarkable geological formation of the ranges. The reader will understand their character and structure from the accompanying cut, better than from any description I can give. They were, in fact, wholly different in formation from hills in general. To the westward there was a low, depressed tract, with an unbroken horizon and a gloomy scrub. Southwards the country was exceedingly broken, hilly, and confused; but there was a line of hills bounding this rugged region to the eastward, and immediately beyond that range were the plains I had crossed in going to Mount Lyell. From the point on which we stood there were numerous other projecting points, similar to those of the headlands in the channel, falling outwards at an angle of 55 degrees, as if they had crumbled down from perpendicular precipices. The faces of these points were of a dirty white, without any vegetation growing on them; they fell back in semicircular sweeps, and the ground behind sloped abruptly down to the plains. The ranges were all flat-topped and devoid of timber, but the vegetation resembled that of the country at their base, and the fragments of rock scattered over them were similar: that is to say, milky quartz, wood opal, granite, and other rocks (none of which occurred in the stratification of these ranges), were to be found on their summits as on the plains, and in equal proportion, as if the whole country had once been perfectly level, and that the hills had been forced up. Such indeed was the impression upon Mr. Poole's mind, when he returned to me from having visited these ranges. "They appear," he remarked, "to have been raised from the plains, so similar in every respect are their tops to the district below." Our eyes wandered over an immense expanse of country to the south, and we were enabled to take bearings of many of the hills near the camp, although there was some uncertainty in our recognition of them at the distance of 40 miles. The Red Hill, however, close to the camp bore south, and was full that distance from us. We could also see the course of the creeks we had been tracing, ultimately breaking through the range to the eastward and passing into the plains beyond. Behind us to the north there were many projecting points appearing above the level of the range. These seemed to be the northern termination of these hills, and beyond them the country was very low. The outline of the projecting points was hilly, and they were so exactly alike that it would have been impossible to have recognised any to which we might have taken bearings; but there were two little cones in a small range to the north upon which I felt I could rely with greater certainty. They respectively bore 302 and 306 from me; and as they were the only advanced points on which I could now keep up bearings, although in the midst of hills, I determined as soon as I should have examined the neighbourhood a little more, to proceed to them. From our first position we went to the next, a hill of about 450 feet in height, perfectly flat-topped, and detached from the main group.