Getting up one of the horses early on the 21st, we took some water with us and proceeded to where Wylie had left the kangaroo, to breakfast. Fortunately it had not been molested by the wild dogs during the night. Though not of a large species, it was a full grown animal, and furnished us with a grateful supply of wholesome food. Once more Wylie enjoyed as much as he could eat, and after breakfast, I took the horse back to the camp, carrying with me about thirty-two pounds weight of the best and most fleshy parts of the kangaroo. Wylie remained behind with the rifle, to return leisurely and try to shoot another; but early in the afternoon he returned, not having seen one. The truth, I suspect was, that he had eaten too much to breakfast, and laid down to sleep when I was gone, coming back to the camp as soon as he felt hungry again. The rest of the day was taken up in attending to the horses and bringing a supply of water up for ourselves. The weather was mild and pleasant, and a few slight showers fell at night, but we were now so well protected among the tea-trees, and had so much firewood, that we were not inconvenienced by the rain.

As I still intended to remain in camp to recruit the horses, I wished Wylie to go out again on the 22nd, to try for another kangaroo; but the other not being yet all used, he was very unwilling to do so, and it was only upon my threatening to move on if he did not, that I could get him out. As soon as he was gone, I went down to Point Malcolm to try to fish, as the weather was now so much more moderate. Unfortunately, my tackling was not strong, and after catching three rock-fish, weighing together three pounds and a half; a large fish got hooked, and took great part of my line, hook and all, away.

It was very vexing to lose a line when I had not many, but still more so to miss a fine fish that would have weighed fifteen or sixteen pounds. Being obliged to come back, I spent the remainder of the afternoon in preparing lines for the morrow.

Towards evening Wylie returned gloomy and sulky, and without having fired a shot; neither had he brought the horses up with him to water as I had requested him to do, and now it was too late to go for them, and they would have to be without water for the night. I was vexed at this, and gave him a good scolding for his negligence, after which I endeavoured to ascertain what had so thoroughly put him out of humour, for ordinarily he was one of the best tempered natives I had met with: a single sentence revealed the whole—"The——dogs had eaten the skin."

This observation came from the very bottom of his soul, and at once gave me an idea of the magnitude of the disappointment he had sustained; the fact was, upon leaving the camp in the morning he had taken a firestick in his hand, and gone straight back to where we skinned the kangaroo on the 21st, with the intention of singeing off the hair and eating the skin, which had been left hanging over a bush. Upon his arrival he found it gone: the wild dogs had been beforehand with him and deprived him of the meal he expected; hence his gloomy, discontented look upon his return. As yet I had not told him that I had been fishing; but upon showing him what I had brought home, and giving him the two largest for supper, his brow again cleared, and he voluntarily offered to go out again to try to get a kangaroo to-morrow.

May 23.—Leaving Wylie asleep at the camp, I set off early to fish at Point Malcolm. After catching four rock-fish, weighing five pounds, and losing several hooks, I commenced hunting about among the rocks for crabs, of which I procured about a dozen They were quite different from the English crab, being very small, not more than three or four inches in diameter, and without any meat in the inside of the shell; but the chine and claws afforded very fair pickings. Upon returning to the camp, I learnt from Wylie with great satisfaction that he had shot another kangaroo as he went to bring up the horses. The latter were now at the camp; so sending him to water them, I remained behind to dry my clothes, which had got thoroughly wetted in catching the crabs.

Upon Wylie's return I mounted him on one of the horses, and accompanying him on foot, proceeded to where he had left the kangaroo; as it was only one mile and a half away we brought it back upon the horse, entire, that we might skin it more leisurely at the camp. It was a larger one than the last, and promised an abundant supply of food for some days; added to this we had five pounds of fish and a dozen crabs, so that our larder was well and variously stocked. Upon skinning the kangaroo, Wylie carefully singed, folded up, and put away the skin for another day, fully determined that this time he would lose no part of the precious prize. Having taken the paunch and emptied it, he proceeded to make a kind of haggis (rather a dirty one to be sure), by putting into it the liver, lights, heart, and small intestines, and then tying it up, thrust it into the fire to be roasted whole. This seemed to be a favourite dish with him, and he was now as happy as a king, sleeping and eating alternately the whole night long; his only complaint now being that the water was so far off, and that as we had to carry it all up from the sand-hills to our camp, he could not drink so much as he should like, and in consequence, could not eat so much either, for it required no small quantity of liquid to wash down the enormous masses of meat that he consumed whenever he had an opportunity.

May 24.—Leaving Wylie to continue his feast and attend to the horses, I went down to the beach to hunt again for crabs, of which I procured about three dozen, but still of the same small size as before; a few larger ones were seen in the deeper clefts of the rocks, but I could not get at them; indeed, as it was, I was very nearly terminating my crab hunting and expedition at the same time. The places where these animals were obtained, were the clefts and holes among large masses and sheets of rock close to the sea, and which were covered by it at high water; many of these were like platforms, shelving to the sea, and terminating abruptly in deep water. Whilst busily engaged upon one of them, in trying to get some crabs out from its clefts, I did not notice that the surf sometimes washed over where I stood, until whilst stooping, and in the act of fishing out a crab, a roller came further than usual and dashing over me, threw me down and took both me and my crabs to some distance, nearly carrying us down the steep into the sea, from which nothing could have rescued me, as I should soon have been dashed to pieces by the breakers against the rocks. Having gathered up the crabs I had collected, I set off homewards in a sad cold uncomfortable plight, with the skin scraped off my hands and one of my heels, and with my shoes in such a state from scrambling about among the rocks and in the wet, as strongly to indicate to me the propriety of never attempting to go crab hunting again with my shoes on, unless I wished to be placed altogether "hors du combat" for walking. Wylie I found had got up the horses and watered them, and had brought up a supply of water for the camp, so that we had nothing to do in the afternoon but boil crabs and eat them, at which occupation I found him wonderfully more skilful than I was, readily getting through two to my one.

On the 25th we still remained in camp to take advantage of the abundant supply of food we had for ourselves, and by giving the horses a long rest, enable them also to recruit a little upon the excellent grass which grew in this neighbourhood. Wylie took the rifle out to try to get another kangaroo, but did not succeed. I remained at home to mend my boots, and prepare for advancing again to-morrow. In the afternoon we filled our kegs, and brought away the bucket and spade from the sand-hills, that we might be ready to move without going again to the water. For the first time since we left Fowler's Bay we were troubled with musquitoes.

May 26.—Up early, and Wylie, who had been eating the whole night, was so thirsty, that he actually walked all the way through the dew and cold of the morning to the water to drink, as I could only afford him one pint out of the kegs. We had now been in camp six clear days, at this most favourable position; we had got an abundant and wholesome supply of provisions for ourselves, and had been enabled to allow our horses to enjoy a long unbroken interval of rest, amidst the best of pasturage, and where there was excellent water. Now that we were again going to continue our route, I found that the horses were so much improved in appearance and in strength, that I thought we might once again venture, without oppression to the animals, occasionally to ride; I selected therefore, the strongest from among them for this purpose, and Wylie and myself walked and rode alternately; after passing the scrubby sand-ridges, and descending to the open downs behind them, I steered direct for Cape Arid, cutting off Cape Pasley, and encamping after a stage of eighteen miles, where it bore south-east of us. We halted for the night upon a ridge timbered with casuarinae, and abounding in grass. Once more we were in a country where trees were found, and again we were able at night to make our fires of large logs, which did not incessantly require renewing to prevent their going out. We had now crossed the level bank which had so long shut out the interior from us; gradually it had declined in elevation, until at last it had merged in the surrounding country, and we hardly knew where it commenced, or how it ended. The high bluff and craggy hills, whose tops we had formerly seen, stood out now in bold relief, with a low level tract of country stretching to their base, covered with dwarf brush, heathy plants and grass-tree, with many intervals of open grassy land, and abounding in kangaroos. I named these lofty and abrupt mountain masses the "Russell Range," after the Right Honourable the Secretary of State for the Colonies—Lord John Russell. They constitute the first great break in the character and appearance of the country for many hundreds of miles, and they offer a point of great interest, from which future researches may hereafter be made towards the interior. Nearer to the coast, and on either side of Cape Pasley were sand-drifts, in which I have no doubt that water might have been procured. We found none where we were encamped, but had sufficient in the kegs for our own use, and the horses were not thirsty; many and recent tracks of natives were observed, but the people themselves were not seen.

The morning of the 27th was exceedingly cold; and as we left our encampments early, neither I nor Wylie were inclined to ride for the first few miles; it was as much as we could do to keep ourselves from shivering whilst walking; the dews were so heavy, that we were soon wet through by the spangles from the shrubs and grass, whilst the pace at which we travelled was not sufficiently rapid to promote a quick circulation, and enable us to keep ourselves warm.

At six miles we passed some sand hills, where there was every indication of water, but I did not think it worth while delaying to try the experiment in digging, and pushed on for four miles further, round a bight of the coast, encamping on the east side of Cape Arid, where a small salt water creek entered the bight. The mouth of this was closed by a bar of sand, quite dry; nor did the salt water continue for any great distance inland. Following it up, in the hope of finding fresh water near its source, I found that there was none now, but that after rains considerable streams must be poured into it from the gorges of Cape Arid. The rocks here were all of granite; and in some of the ledges we were fortunate enough to find abundance of water deposited by the rains, at which we watered our horses. This being the first time we had ever been able to do so on our whole journey without making use of the spade and bucket. After putting the horses out upon the best grass we could find, Wylie and I went to try our luck at fishing; the sea was boisterous, and we caught none; but in returning, got about eight or nine crabs a-piece, which, with some of the kangaroo that was still left, enabled us to make our fare out tolerably.

May 26.—In the latter part of the night the rain set in moderately, but steadily, and both Wylie and myself were very wet and miserable. The morning still continued showery, and I was anxious to have remained in camp for the sake of the horses; but as we had consumed at breakfast the last of our kangaroo, it became necessary to find some means of renewing our resources, or else lose no time in making the best of our way onwards. Having sent Wylie to try and get crabs, I went out with the rifle, but could see nothing to shoot; and upon returning to the camp, I found Wylie had been equally unsuccessful among the rocks, the sea being too rough; there was no alternative, therefore, but to move on, and having got up the horses, we proceeded behind Cape Arid for ten miles, at a course of W. 15 degrees N., and encamped at night amid a clump of tea-trees, and bastard gums, where we got good grass for our horses, but no water. The day had been intensely cold, and I could not persuade Wylie to ride at all. At night we had abundance of firewood, and a few of the long narrow yams were also found at this encampment, the first vegetable food we had yet procured. Grass trees had been abundant on our line of route to-day, and for the first time we met with the Xamia. In the evening, the kangaroo fly (a small brown fly) became very troublesome, annoying us in great numbers, and warning us that rain was about to fall. At night it came in frequent though moderate showers. We got very much wetted, but our fire was good, and we did not suffer so much from the cold as the damp, which affected me with cramp in the limbs, and rheumatism.

May 29.—After breakfasting upon a spoonful of flour a-piece, mixed with a little water and boiled into a paste, we again proceeded. At ten miles we came to a small salt water stream, running seawards; in passing up it to look for a crossing place, Wylie caught two opossums, in the tops of some tea-trees, which grew on the banks. As I hoped more might be procured, and perhaps fresh water, by tracing it higher up, I took the first opportunity of crossing to the opposite side, and there encamped; Wylie now went out to search for opossums, and I traced the stream upwards. In my route I passed several very rich patches of land in the valleys, and on the slopes of the hills enclosing the watercourse. These were very grassy and verdant, but I could find no fresh water, nor did I observe any timber except the tea-tree. After tracing the stream until it had ceased running, and merely became a chain of ponds of salt water, I returned to the camp a good deal fatigued; Wylie came in soon after, but had got nothing but a few yams. The general character of the country on either side the watercourse, was undulating, of moderate elevation, and affording a considerable extent of sheep pasturage. The cockatoos of King George's Sound, (without the yellow crest) were here in great numbers. Kangaroos also abounded; but the country had not brush enough to enable us to get sufficiently near to shoot them.

During the day Wylie had caught two opossums, and as these were entirely the fruit of his own labour and skill, I did not interfere in their disposal; I was curious, moreover, to see how far I could rely upon his kindness and generosity, should circumstances ever compel me to depend upon him for a share of what he might procure. At night, therefore, I sat philosophically watching him whilst he proceeded to get supper ready, as yet ignorant whether I was to partake of it or not. After selecting the largest of the two animals, he prepared and cooked it, and then put away the other where he intended to sleep. I now saw that he had not the remotest intention of giving any to me, and asked him what he intended to do with the other one. He replied that he should be hungry in the morning, and meant to keep it until then. Upon hearing this I told him that his arrangements were very good, and that for the future I would follow the same system also; and that each should depend upon his own exertions in procuring food; hinting to him that as he was so much more skilful than I was, and as we had so very little flour left, I should be obliged to reserve this entirely for myself, but that I hoped he would have no difficulty in procuring as much food as he required. I was then about to open the flour-bag and take a little out for my supper, when he became alarmed at the idea of getting no more, and stopped me, offering the other opossum, and volunteering to cook it properly for me. Trifling as this little occurrence was, it read me a lesson of caution, and taught me what value was to be placed upon the assistance or kindness of my companion, should circumstances ever place me in a situation to be dependent upon him; I felt a little hurt too, at experiencing so little consideration from one whom I had treated with the greatest kindness, and who had been clothed and fed upon my bounty, for the last fifteen months.

May 30.—In commencing our journey this morning, our route took us over undulating hills, devoid of timber, but having occasionally small patches of very rich land in the valleys and upon some of the slopes. This continued to a salt-water river, broad, and apparently deep near the sea. As I was doubtful whether it would have a bar-mouth to seawards, I thought it more prudent to trace it upwards, for the purpose of crossing. At no very great distance it contracted sufficiently to enable me to get over to the other side. But in doing so the ground proved soft and boggy, and I nearly lost one of the horses. Four miles beyond this river we came to another channel of salt water, but not so large as the last. In valleys sloping down to this watercourse we met, for the first time, clumps of a tree called by the residents of King George's Sound the cabbage-tree, and not far from which were native wells of fresh water; there were also several patches of rich land bordering upon the watercourse.

Travelling for two miles further, we came to a very pretty fresh-water lake, of moderate size, and surrounded by clumps of tea-tree. It was the first permanent fresh water we had found on the surface since we commenced our journey from Fowler's Bay—a distance of nearly seven hundred miles. I would gladly have encamped here for the night, but the country surrounding the lake was sandy and barren, and destitute of grass. We had only made good a distance of eleven miles from our last camp, and I felt anxious to get on to Lucky Bay as quickly as I could, in order that I might again give our horses a rest for a few days, which they now began to require. From Captain Flinders' account of Lucky Bay I knew we should find fresh water and wood in abundance. I hoped there would also be grass, and in this case I had made up my mind to remain a week or ten days, during which I intended to have killed the foal we had with us, now about nine months old, could we procure food in no other way. After leaving Lucky Bay, as we should only be about three hundred miles from the Sound, and our horses would be in comparatively fresh condition, I anticipated we should be able to progress more rapidly. Indeed I fully expected it would be absolutely necessary for us to do so, through a region which, from Flinders' description as seen from sea, and from his having named three different hills in it Mount Barrens, we should find neither very practicable nor fertile.

Six miles beyond the fresh-water lake we came to another salt-water stream, and finding, upon following up a little way, that it was only brackish, we crossed and halted for the night. Wylie went out to search for food, but got nothing, whilst I unharnessed and attended to the horses, which were a good deal fagged, and then prepared the camp and made the fires for the night: I could get nothing but grass-tree for this purpose, but it was both abundant and dry. Owing to its very resinous nature, this tree burns with great heat and brilliancy, emitting a grateful aromatic odour. It is easily lit up, makes a most cheerful fire, and notwithstanding the fervency with which it burns, does not often require renewing, if the tree be large. Our whole journey to-day had been over undulations of about three hundred feet in elevation; the country rose a little inland, and a few occasional bluffs of granite were observed in the distance, but no timber was seen any where. At night the flies and mosquitoes were very troublesome to us.

May 31.—The morning showery, and bitterly cold, so that, for the first two hours after starting, we suffered considerably, After travelling for seven miles and a half, through an undulating and bare country, we came to a salt-water river, with some patches of good land about it. Having crossed the river a little way up where it became narrower, we again proceeded for five miles farther, through the same character of country, and were then stopped by another salt stream, which gave us a great deal of trouble to effect a crossing. We had traced it up to where the channel was narrow, but the bed was very deep, and the water running strongly between banks of rich black soil. Our horses would not face this at first, and in forcing them over we were nearly losing two of them. After travelling only a quarter of a mile beyond this stream I was chagrined to find we had crossed it just above the junction of two branches, and that we had still one of them to get over; the second was even more difficult to pass than the first, and whilst I was on the far side, holding one of the horses by a rope, with Wylie behind driving him on, the animal made a sudden and violent leap, and coming full upon me, knocked me down and bruised me considerably. One of his fore legs struck me on the thigh, and I narrowly escaped having it broken, whilst a hind leg caught me on the shin, and cut me severely.

As soon as we were fairly over I halted for the night, to rest myself and give Wylie an opportunity of looking for food. The water in both branches of this river was only brackish where we crossed, and at that which we encamped upon but slightly so.

There were many grass-trees in the vicinity, and as several of these had been broken down and were dead they were full of the white grubs of which the natives are so fond. From these Wylie enjoyed a plentiful, and to him, luxurious supper. I could not bring myself to try them, preferring the root of the broad flag-reed, which, for the first time, we met with at this stream, and which is an excellent and nutritious article of food. This root being dug up, and roasted in hot ashes, yields a great quantity of a mealy farinaceous powder interspersed among the fibres; it is of an agreeable flavour, wholesome, and satisfying to the appetite. In all parts of Australia, even where other food abounds, the root of this reed is a favourite and staple article of diet among the aborigines. The proper season of the year for procuring it in full perfection, is after the floods have receded, and the leaves have died away and been burnt off. It is that species of reed of which the leaves are used by coopers for closing up crevices between the staves of their casks.

June 1.—Upon getting up this morning I found myself very stiff and sore from the bruises I had received yesterday, yet I felt thankful that I had escaped so well; had any of my limbs been broken, I should have been in a dreadful position, and in all probability must have perished. After Wylie had dug up some of the flag-roots for breakfast, and a few to take with us, we proceeded on our journey. I was anxious to have made a long stage, and if possible, to have reached Thistle Cove by night; but the country we had to pass over was heavy and sandy, and after travelling fifteen miles, the horses became so jaded, that I was obliged to turn in among some sand-drifts near the coast, and halt for the night. The course we had been steering for the last few days towards Lucky Bay, had gradually brought us close to the coast again, and during a part of our journey this afternoon we were travelling upon the sea-shore. At ten miles after starting, we crossed a strong stream of fresh water running through some sandy flats into the sea; a mile and a half beyond this we crossed a second stream; and half a mile further a third, all running strongly, with narrow channels, into the sea, and quite fresh. Fresh water was also laying about every where on our road in large pools; a proof of the very heavy rains that had lately fallen. We were, therefore, enjoying the advantages of a wet season without having been subject to its inclemency, and which, in our present weak, unprotected state, we could hardly have endured. The country to the back was sandy and undulating, covered principally with low shrubs, and rising inland; there were also several granite bluffs at intervals, from among which, the streams I had crossed, probably took their rise; but there were no trees to be seen any where, except a few of the tea of cabbage-trees. I do not think that any of the three fresh-water streams we had crossed would be permanent, their present current being owing entirely to the recent rains; but when they are running, and the weather is moderately fair, they afford an admirable opportunity of watering a vessel with very little trouble, the water being clear and pure to its very junction with the sea.

At night we made our supper of the flag-roots we had brought with us, and a spoonful of flour a-piece, boiled into a paste. The night was very cold and windy, and having neither shelter nor fire-wood at the sand-drifts where we were, we spent it miserably.

June 2.—As we had made a shorter stage yesterday than I intended to have done, and the quantity of flour we had now remaining was very small, I did not dare to make use of any this morning, and we commenced our journey without breakfast. Being now near Thistle Cove, where I intended to halt for some time, and kill the little foal for food, whilst the other horses were recruiting, and as I hoped to get there early this afternoon, I was anxious to husband our little stock of flour in the hope, that at the little fresh-water lake described by Flinders, as existing there, we should find abundance of the flag-reed for our support. Keeping a little behind the shore for the first hour, we crossed over the sandy ridge bounding it, and upon looking towards the sea, I thought I discovered a boat sailing in the bay. Upon pointing this object out to Wylie, he was of the same opinion with myself, and we at once descended towards the shore, but on our arrival were greatly disappointed at not being able again to see the object of our search. In the course of half an hour, however, whilst resting ourselves and watching the surface of the ocean, it again became visible, and soon after a second appeared. It was now evident that both these were boats, and that we had noticed them only when standing off shore, and the light shone upon their sails, and had lost them when upon the opposite tack. It was equally apparent they were standing out from the main land for the islands. I imagined them to be sealers, who having entered the bay to procure water or firewood, were again steering towards the islands to fish. Having hastily made a fire upon one of the sand-hills, we fired shots, shouted, waved handkerchiefs, and made every signal we could to attract attention, but in vain. They were too far away to see, or too busy to look towards us. The hopes we had entertained were as suddenly disappointed as they had been excited, and we stood silently and sullenly gazing after the boats as they gradually receded from our view.

Whilst thus occupied and brooding over our disappointment, we were surprised to see both boats suddenly lower their sails, and apparently commence fishing. Watching them steadily we now perceived that they were whale boats, and once more our hearts beat with hope, for I felt sure that they must belong to some vessel whaling in the neighbourhood. We now anxiously scanned the horizon in every direction, and at last were delighted beyond measure to perceive to the westward the masts of a large ship, peeping above a rocky island which had heretofore concealed her from our view. She was apparently about six miles from us, and as far as we could judge from so great a distance, seemed to be at anchor near the shore.

Poor Wylie's joy now knew no bounds, and he leapt and skipped about with delight as he congratulated me once more upon the prospect of getting plenty to eat. I was not less pleased than he was, and almost as absurd, for although the vessel was quietly at anchor so near us, with no sails loose and her boats away, I could not help fearing that she might disappear before we could get to her, or attract the notice of those on board. To prevent such a calamity, I mounted one of the strongest horses and pushed on by myself as rapidly as the heavy nature of the sands would allow, leaving Wylie at his own especial request to bring on the other horses. In a short time I arrived upon the summit of a rocky cliff, opposite to a fine large barque lying at anchor in a well sheltered bay, (which I subsequently named Rossiter Bay, after the captain of the whaler,) immediately east of Lucky Bay, and at less than a quarter of a mile distant from the shore. The people on board appeared to be busily engaged in clearing their cables which were foul, and did not observe me at all. I tied up my horse, therefore, to a bush, and waited for Wylie, who was not long in coming after me, having driven the poor horses at a pace they had not been accustomed to for many a long day. I now made a smoke on the rock where I was, and hailed the vessel, upon which a boat instantly put off, and in a few moments I had the inexpressible pleasure of being again among civilized beings, and of shaking hands with a fellow-countryman in the person of Captain Rossiter, commanding the French Whaler "Mississippi."

Our story was soon told, and we were received with the greatest kindness and hospitality by the captain.



Chapter IV.



GO ON BOARD THE MISSISSIPPI—WET WEATHER—VISIT LUCKY BAY—INTERVIEW WITH NATIVES—WYLIE UNDERSTANDS THEIR LANGUAGE—GET THE HORSES SHOD—PREPARE TO LEAVE THE VESSEL—KINDNESS AND LIBERALITY OF CAPTAIN ROSSITER—RENEW JOURNEY TO THE WESTWARD—FOSSIL FORMATION STILL CONTINUES—SALT WATER STREAMS AND LAKES—A LARGE SALT RIVER—CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY.

June 2.—AFTER watering the horses at a deposit left by the rains, in the sheets of granite near us, and turning them loose, we piled up our little baggage, and in less than an hour we were comfortably domiciled on board the hospitable Mississippi,—a change in our circumstances so great, so sudden, and so unexpected, that it seemed more like a dream than a reality; from the solitary loneliness of the wilderness, and its attendant privations, we were at once removed to all the comforts of a civilised community.

After we had done ample justice to the good cheer set before us, by our worthy host, he kindly invited us to remain on board as long as we pleased, to recruit our horses, and told us, that when we felt refreshed sufficiently to renew the journey, he would supply us with such stores and other articles as we might require. I learnt that the Mississippi had but recently arrived from France, and that she had only been three weeks upon the ground she had taken up for the season's whaling. As yet no whales had been seen, and the season was said not to commence before the end of June or beginning of July. The boats I saw in the morning belonged to her, and had been out chasing what they thought to be a whale, but which proved to be only a fin-back, a species which was not thought to repay the trouble of trying out.

Early in the evening the whalers retired to rest, and I had a comfortable berth provided for me in the cabin, but could not sleep; my thoughts were too much occupied in reflecting upon the great change which the last few hours had wrought in the position of myself and my attendant. Sincerely grateful to the Almighty for having guided us through so many difficulties, and for the inexpressible relief afforded us when so much needed, but so little expected, I felt doubly thankful for the mercy we experienced, when, as I lay awake, I heard the wind roar, and the rain drive with unusual wildness, and reflected that by God's blessing, we were now in safety, and under shelter from the violence of the storm, and the inclemency of the west season, which appeared to be setting in, but which, under the circumstances we were in but a few short hours ago, we should have been so little able to cope with, or to endure.

June 3.—I arose at day-break, as I found the whalers breakfasted betimes, to enable them to send their boats away to look out, at an early hour. In fact, during the season, I was informed, that it was not unusual to send them to their posts before the break of day, and especially so, if other vessels were in company, or there was any competition. After breakfast I landed with the Captain, to get up and inspect the horses; poor animals they had not gone far and were doubtless glad at not being required to march away to-day. I was only sorry that the country did not abound more in grass. Plenty of water left by the rains was procurable, in the ledges of the granite rocks, but the vegetation was scanty, the soil being very sandy, and covered principally with small shrubs, heathy plants, etc.

Leaving the horses to enjoy their respite from labour, I accompanied the Captain to see a garden made by the sailors, in which peas and potatoes had already been planted, and appeared to be growing well. A rich piece of land had been selected on a slope, bordering upon a salt water creek, which here wound through the level country towards the sea. The water in this creek, was brackish in the upper part, but seaward it was quite salt, it had a bar mouth of sand, which was quite dry. Unfortunately, the Captain had no garden seeds but the peas and potatoes, so that their labours were confined to cultivating these; otherwise during the many months spent by them in bay whaling, they might have abundantly supplied themselves with a variety of vegetables, at once an agreeable and wholesome addition to the ordinary diet on board ship. After dinner I went with the Captain to visit an island near, upon which he kept his live stock, such as pigs, sheep, and tortoises; the two latter had been procured from the west side of the island of Madagascar; the sheep were strange looking animals, more like goats than sheep, of all colours, and with fat tails, like the Cape sheep. Their cost at Madagascar had been a tumbler full of powder a piece; a bullock would have cost ten bottles full, and other things could have been procured at proportionable prices. The principal articles in request among the Madagases, were said to be powder, brass headed trunk nails, muskets, gun-flints, clear claret bottles, looking-glasses, and cutlery.

The greater part of the day was very cold and showery, and I remained quietly on board, reading some old English papers. Wylie was as happy as he could be. It was true he did not understand a word spoken by those around him (for not a soul on board spoke English but the Captain), but he had as much to eat as he desired; and to do him justice, I believe he made the most of the opportunity. On the other hand, his capacity for eating entertained the Frenchmen, with the exception, perhaps, of his first meal on board, and then, I believe, that the immense number of biscuits he devoured, and the amazing rapidity with which they disappeared, not only astounded, but absolutely alarmed them. Fish were caught in great numbers from the ship's side, mackarel and baracoota being obtained every day. Other varieties might have been procured off the rocks near the shore, from which there were many places well adapted for fishing. Periwinkles abounded, and crabs were numerous among the crevices of the rocks. Altogether, this seemed to be a most favourable place; and had we not met with the vessel, it would have held out to us the prospect of obtaining as abundant a supply of food for ourselves as we had got at Point Malcolm, without the necessity of destroying the poor foal. The night again set in very wild, cold, and wet.

June 4.—This morning the weather appeared tolerably fine, and I landed with the French doctor for the purpose of walking across to Thistle Cove. After travelling four miles over a sandy heathy country, we arrived at the pretty little fresh water lake, so accurately described by Captain Flinders, and which I had so anxiously looked forward to attaining, that we might halt to rest, and recruit the horses. There is no timber around the lake, beyond a few xamias, grass trees, and some stunted tea-trees; neither was there much grass. In other respects, I could not have pitched upon a more favourable place to have halted at: for near the lake abounded the flag reed, of which the root was so valuable for food. This one article would have supported us well during our stay here, whilst the many bluff rocks, with deep calm water close to them, extending all around the promontory which projected into the sea, and round the bay, held out great promise that fish could readily have been caught. Ducks were also numerous in the lake, and kangaroos on shore. The day turned out very bleak and wet, and we both got thoroughly soaked through before we got back to the vessel, which was not until about two in the afternoon; I was then obliged to borrow a dry suit from the Captain, whilst my own clothes were drying.

June 5.—From this time until the fourteenth of June I remained on board the Mississippi, enjoying the hospitality of Captain Rossiter. Wylie went out once or twice to try to shoot a kangaroo for the ship, but he never succeeded; he had so much to eat on board that he had no stimulus to exertion, and did not take the trouble necessary to insure success. During almost the whole of the time that I remained on board the Mississippi, the weather was exceedingly boisterous, cold, and wet, and I could not but feel truly thankful that I had not been exposed to it on shore; even on board the ship, with shelter and extra clothing, I felt very sensibly the great change which had taken place in the temperature.

I regretted greatly that during my stay I had not the opportunity of seeing a whale caught. There was only once an attempt at a chase. In this instance three boats were sent out, commanded by the Captain and the two mates, but after a considerable lapse of time, and a long interval of suspense and anxiety, the fish chased turned out to be a hump-back, and as this was not deemed worth catching, the boats returned to the ship. The life led by the whalers, as far as I was able to judge, from the short time I was with them, seemed to be one of regularity, but of considerable hardship. At half-past six or seven in the evening they invariably went to bed, but were up at the first dawn of day, and sometimes even before it, the boats were then usually sent to a distance from the ship to look out for whales, and whether fortunate or otherwise, they would always have a pretty hard day's work before they returned. They were, however, well fed, being apparently even better dieted than the generality of merchant-ships; the bread was of a better quality, and the allowance of butter, cheese, beans, and other little luxuries much more liberal. In the Mississippi the crew were generally young men, and with few exceptions all were complete novices at sea; this I was told was in consequence of an expected war between England and France, and the prohibition of able seamen from leaving their country. Captain Rossiter assured me that he had not been allowed for a considerable length of time to sail at all from France, as the war was daily expected to break out. He was still ignorant as to what had been done in this respect, and naturally felt very anxious at being, as he might imagine, on an enemy's coast.

During the time I remained on board the vessel, a party of natives once or twice came down to the beach, and as I was anxious to enter into commucation with them, two were induced to get into the boat and come on board; as I expected, my boy Wylie fully understood the language spoken in this part of the country, and could converse with them fluently. Through him I learnt that they had never seen white people before the Mississippi anchored here, which was somewhat singular, considering the frankness with which they visited us, and the degree of confidence they appeared to repose in us. Of the interior I could gain no satisfactory account, they said that as far inland as they were acquainted with the country, it was similar to what we saw, that there was an abundance of water in the valleys in small wells, that there was a lake and fresh water river, but that there was little or no wood anywhere. In turn they were curious to know where we had come from, or where we were going; but Wylie, who in this respect, at least, was prudent and cautious, told them that we had come from the eastward to join the ship, and were now going to remain. Finding I could gain no further useful information, presents of fish and biscuits were made to them, and they were put on shore, highly pleased with their visit. During the remainder of my stay, I had no further opportunity of entering into conversation with these people, as the weather was generally wild, and they could not procure much shelter or fire-wood on the coast, had they come down to see us.

A few days before I contemplated commencing the renewal of my journey, I requested the Captain to allow a blacksmith he had on board to shoe my horses, and to this he kindly consented, but as a scarcity of iron prevailed, some old harpoons and lances had to be worked up for this purpose. The blacksmith who was a Frenchman, made his shoes and nails in so different, and apparently in so much more clumsy manner than I was accustomed to, that I was almost afraid of letting him put them on, and tried hard, but in vain, to get him to imitate the English shoe and nail in ordinary use.

Finding that I was likely to derive no advantage from my officious interference, I determined to let him have his own way, and was surprised and delighted to find that he performed his work well and skilfully, the only unusual part of the operation to me, being the necessity he appeared to be under, of always having a man to hold up the leg of the horse whilst he put the shoe on, instead of holding the foot up himself, as an English blacksmith does; such however, he assured me was the practice always in France, and he appeared to think it the best too. Having had my horses shod, I got some canvass from the Captain, to make bags for carrying my provisions, and then giving him a list of stores that I wished to take with me, I commenced preparations for leaving my hospitable entertainer. Every thing that I wished for, was given to me with a kindness and liberality beyond what I could have expected; and it gives me unfeigned pleasure, to have it now in my power to record thus publicly the obligations I was under to Captain Rossiter.

On the 14th, I landed the stores, to arrange and pack them ready for the journey. They consisted of forty pounds of flour, six pounds of biscuit, twelve pounds of rice, twenty pounds of beef, twenty pounds of pork, twelve pounds of sugar, one pound of tea, a Dutch cheese, five pounds of salt butter, a little salt, two bottles of brandy, and two tin saucepans for cooking; besides some tobacco and pipes for Wylie, who was a great smoker, and the canteens filled with treacle for him to eat with rice. The great difficulty was now, how to arrange for the payment of the various supplies I had been furnished with, as I had no money with me, and it was a matter of uncertainty, whether the ship would touch at any of the Australian colonies. Captain Rossiter however, said that he had some intention of calling at King George's Sound, when the Bay whaling was over, and as that was the place to which I was myself going, I gave him an order upon Mr. Sherratt, who had previously acted as my agent there in the transaction of some business matters in 1840. To this day, however, I have never learnt whether Captain Rossiter visited King George's Sound or not.

In arranging the payment, I could not induce the Captain to receive any thing for the twelve days' that we had been resident in the ship, nor would he allow me to pay for some very comfortable warm clothing, which he supplied me with, both for myself and Wylie. Independently too of the things which I had drawn from the ship's stores, Captain Rossiter generously and earnestly pressed me to take any thing that I thought would be serviceable to me from his own private stock of clothes. The attention and hospitality shewn me, during my stay on board the vessel, and the kindness and liberality which I experienced at my departure, will long be remembered by me with feelings of gratitude. In the evening I slept on shore, and got every thing ready for commencing my labours again in the morning.

June 15.—Early this morning the boat came on shore for me, and I went on board to take a farewell breakfast, in the Mississippi, and to wish good bye to her kind-hearted people. At eight I landed with the Captain, got up my horses and loaded them, a matter of some little time and trouble, now my stock of provisions and other things was so greatly augmented; in addition too to all I had accumulated before, the Captain insisted now upon my taking six bottles of wine, and a tin of sardines.

Having received a few letters to be posted at Albany for France, I asked the Captain if there was anything else I could do for him, but he said there was not. The only subject upon which he was at all anxious, was to ascertain whether a war had broken out between France and England or not. In the event of this being the case, he wished me not to mention having seen a French vessel upon the coast, and I promised to comply with his request.

After wishing my kind host good bye, and directing Wylie to lead one of the horses in advance, I brought up the rear, driving the others before me. Once again we had a long and arduous journey before us, and were wending our lonely way through the unknown and untrodden wilds. We were, however, in very different circumstances now, to what we had been in previous to our meeting with the French ship. The respite we had had from our labours, and the generous living we had enjoyed, had rendered us comparatively fresh and strong. We had now with us an abundance, not only of the necessaries, but of the luxuries of life; were better clothed, and provided against the inclemency of the weather than we had been; and entered upon the continuation of our undertaking with a spirit, an energy, and a confidence, that we had long been strangers to.

From the great additional weight we had now to carry upon the horses, we were again obliged to give up riding even in turn, and had both to walk. This was comparatively of little consequence, however, now we were so well provided with every thing we could require, and the country appeared to be so well watered, that we could arrange our stages almost according to our own wishes.

Steering to the north-west we passed over a sandy country, covered with low heathy plants, and grasstrees, and having granite elevations scattered over its surface at intervals. Under these hills fresh water swamps and native wells were constantly met with, and at one of them we encamped for the night, after a stage of about four miles.

During the day, we passed a variety of beautiful shrubs, and among them were many different kind of Banksias, one was quite new to me, and had a scarlet flower, which was very handsome. The fossil formation still constituted the geological character of the country, most of the lower ridges of rock intervening between the various hills of granite, exhibiting shells in great abundance. In the more level parts, the surface was so coated over with sand, that nothing else could be seen. I have no doubt, however, that the whole of the substrata would have been found an uninterrupted continuation of the tertiary deposit.

At night I observed native fires about a mile from us, in a direction towards the sea; but the natives did not come near us, nor was I myself anxious to come into communication with them whilst my party was so small.

The evening had set in with steady rain, which continuing with little intermission during the night, wet us considerably.

June 16.—This morning, I found I had caught cold, and was very unwell. Upon leaving the encampment, we steered N. 30 degrees W. to clear a rocky hill, passing which, on our left at six miles, we changed the course to W. 10 degrees N. Three miles from the hill, we crossed a small stream of brackish water running very strongly towards the sea, and then halted for the day upon it, after a short stage. The country we had traversed in our route, still consisted of the same sandy plains and undulations, covered with low shrubs, heathy plants, grass and cabbage-trees, with here and there elevations of granite, and fresh water swamps: in and around which, the soil was black and very rich; very little wood was to be met with anywhere, and nothing that deserved the appellation of trees.

The country, inland, appeared to rise gradually, but did not seem to differ in character and features from that we were traversing.

June 17.—A little before daylight it commenced raining, and continued showery all day, and though we got wet several times, we experienced great comfort from the warm clothing we had obtained from Captain Rossiter. Upon ascending the hills, above our camp, which confined the waters of the little stream we were upon, we could trace its course south-west by south, to a small lake lying in the same direction, and which it appeared to empty into. A second small lake was observable to the north-west of the first. Two and a half miles from our camp, we passed a granite elevation, near which, were many fresh swamps, permanently, I think, abounding in water and having much rich and grassy land around, of which the soil was a deep black, and but little mixed with sand. For the next three miles and a half, our route lay over a rich swampy grassy land, and we were literally walking all the way in water left by the rains; besides crossing in that distance two fresh water streams, running strongly towards the sea, and both emptying into small lakes seen under the coast ridges. The largest of these two was one yard and a half wide and a foot deep, and appeared of a permanent character. We now ascended an undulating and rather more elevated tract of country of an oolitic limestone formation, most luxuriantly clothed with the richest grass, and having several lakes interspersed among the hollows between the ridges. Near this we halted for the night under some of the coast sand-hills, after a day's stage of twelve miles. We had splendid feed for our horses, but were without any water for ourselves, being unable to carry any with us, as the canteens were full of treacle. From our camp, a peak, near Cape le Grand, bore E. 33 degrees S.

June 18.—During the night heavy showers had fallen, and in the oilskins we caught as much water as sufficed for our tea. After breakfast we proceeded onwards, and at a little more than three miles came to the borders of a large salt lake, lying southwest and north-east, and being one of two noted by Captain Flinders as having been copied into his map from a French chart. Following the borders of the lake for a mile we found abundance of fresh water under the banks by which it was inclosed, and which, judging from the rushes and grasses about it, and the many traces of native encampments, I imagine to be permanent. The lake itself was in a hollow sunk in the fossil formation, which was now very clearly recognisable in the high banks surrounding the lake, and which varied from sixty to a hundred and fifty feet in elevation, and were generally pretty steep towards the shore. The day being fine I halted at this place to re-arrange the loads of the horses and take bearings.

A year had now elapsed since I first entered upon the Northern Expedition. This day twelve months ago I had left Adelaide to commence the undertaking, cheered by the presence and good wishes of many friends, and proudly commanding a small but gallant party—alas, where were they now? Painful and bitter were the thoughts that occupied my mind as I contrasted the circumstances of my departure then with my position now, and when I reflected that of all whose spirit and enterprise had led them to engage in the undertaking, two lone wanderers only remained to attempt its conclusion.

June 19.—The dew was very heavy this morning, and we did not start until rather late, travelling through a very grassy country, abounding in fresh swamps of a soft peaty soil, and often with the broad flag-reed growing in them. All these places were boggy and impassable for horses. In attempting to cross one a horse sunk up to his haunches, and we had much difficulty in extricating him. At five miles from our camp we ascended some high ridges of an oolitic limestone formation, which were partially covered by drift-sand, and in the distance looked like the ridge of a sea shore. From their summit Cape le Grand bore E. 27 degrees S., the peak called by the French the "Chapeau," E. 23 degrees S., and the head of the salt-water lake E. 10 degrees S. We had now a succession of barren, sandy and stony ridges for more than three miles, and as there was but little prospect of our finding permanent water in such a miserable region, I took the opportunity of halting at a little rain water deposited in a hole of the rocks; here we procured enough for ourselves, but could not obtain any for the horses. Our camp not being far from the coast, I walked after dinner to the sand-hills to take bearings. Several islands were visible, of which the centres were set at S. 10 degrees W., S. 26 degrees W., E. 41 degrees S., E. 44 degrees S. and S. 33 degrees E. respectively; the west point of a bay bore S. 51 degrees W. the eastern point E. 36 degrees S. Upon digging for water under the sand-hills it was found to be salt.

June 20.—Rain fell lightly but steadily until one P.M., making it very disagreeable travelling through the rugged and stony ridges we had to encounter, and which were a good deal covered with scrub and brush. About four miles from our camp of last night we crossed high stony ridges, and immediately beyond came to some steep sand-drifts, among the hollows of which I dug for water, but at five feet was stopped by rock. The scrubby, hilly, and rugged nature of the back country, generally about three hundred feet above the level of the sea, now compelled me to keep the beach for five miles, from which I was then again driven by the hills terminating abruptly towards the sea, and forcing me to scale a steep stony range, which for four miles and a half kept us incessantly toiling up one rugged ascent after another. We then came to an extensive hollow, being a partial break in the fossil formation, and having two large lakes and many smaller ones interspersed over its surface. Around the margins of the lakes we again found timber—the tea-tree and the bastard gum. The water in the lakes was salt, but some slight elevations of granite afforded us in their hollows an abundance of water for ourselves and horses. The traces of natives were numerous and recent, but yet we saw none. Swans, ducks, and wild fowl of various kinds were in great numbers, and kept up an unceasing noise at night whilst passing from one lake to the other. Our stage had been twelve miles and a half, but the hilly and rugged nature of the road had made it severe upon the horses, whilst the wet overhead and the wet grass under our feet made it equally harassing to ourselves. From our encampment some white drifts in the coast line bore S. 35 degrees E., and probably were the "white streak in the sand-hills" of Flinders.

June 21.—We did not get away until late, but the dew had been so heavy during the night that even then the shrubs and bushes wet us completely through, and made our journey cold and miserable. After travelling a short distance we lost all symptoms of grass, and the country was again sandy and barren, and covered with shrubs and heathy plants. In this region we passed two native women and a boy, within gun-shot of us; but as they were so intent upon their occupation of digging roots, and did not notice us, I was unwilling to alarm them, and we passed silently by. At six miles we came to a fine deep hole of excellent water about thirty yards in circumference. It was situated in a narrow, short, but steep and rocky gorge, and is, I think, permanent. Four miles beyond this we crossed a chain of salt ponds, trending seawards, towards an apparent gap in the coast-line; and six miles further another. Upon the latter we halted for the night, as there was good grass for the horses, and brackish water was procurable a little way up the stream, where it divided into branches. The constant travelling in the wet for the last few days began now to affect our limbs considerably, and upon halting at nights we found our feet always much swollen, and our legs generally stiff and cramped.

June 22.—A very heavy dew fell in the night, and we were again condemned to wade for three hours up to our middle among the wet brush; after which the day became fine, and we got our clothes dried. Travelling for two and a half miles, we crossed another small brackish chain of ponds, and then ascending rather higher ground, obtained a view of a large lake under the sand-hills, into which the channel we encamped upon last night emptied itself. The lake appeared as if it were deep, and its dark blue colour led me to imagine there might be a junction with the sea towards the south-west, where the low appearance of the coast ridge indicated a gap or opening of some kind. At four miles from our last night's encampment we were stopped by a large salt-water river, fully a hundred yards wide, and increasing to three or four times that size as it trended to its junction with the large lake, and which was visible from the hills above the river. This river was deep where we first struck upon it, but appeared to be much more so towards the lake, where the water was of a dark blue colour, as was that also of the lake itself. This confirmed me in my opinion that there must be a junction with the sea; but unfortunately I was obliged to trace its course upwards, for the purpose of crossing, and the circumstances under which I was travelling precluded me from delaying, or going so far back out of my way to examine its mouth. I dared not leave Wylie in charge of the camp for the time necessary for me to have gone alone; and to take the horses such a distance, and through a rough or heavy country, on the uncertainty of procuring for them either grass or water, would have been a risk which, in their condition, I did not think myself justified in incurring.

After tracing the river northerly for two miles and a half, I found it divided into two branches, and though these were still of considerable size, yet a ledge of rocks extending across the channels enabled us to effect a passage to the other side. At the place where we crossed, the stream running over the rocks was only slightly brackish, and we watered our horses there; had we traced it a little further it might possibly have been quite fresh, but we had no time for this, for Wylie having taken charge of the horses but for a few moments, whilst I had been examining the river for a crossing place, contrived to frighten them all in some way or other, and set them off at a gallop; the result was, that our baggage was greatly disturbed, and many things knocked off and damaged, whilst it took us some time again to get our horses and re-arrange the loads.

The valley through which the river took its course, was rocky, with sheets of granite extending in many places to the water's edge. There was abundance of good grass, however, and in its upper branches, probably, there might have been some considerable extent of pasturage. The trees growing upon the margin, were the paper-barked tea-tree, and the bastard gum.

Leaving the river, and proceeding over an undulating sandy country, without timber, but covered with shrubs, we passed at six miles between two small lakes, and in three more descended to a deep valley among granite rocks; here we encamped after a stage of sixteen miles, with plenty of fresh water in pools, and very fair grass for the horses, about a mile and a half before we halted, we had obtained a view to seawards, and I set the "Rocky Islets" at a bearing of S. 25 degrees W.

The character of the country generally, through which we travelled to-day, was very similar to that we had so long been traversing. Its general elevation above the level of the sea, was about three hundred feet, and to a distant observer, it seemed to be a perfect table land, unbroken to the horizon, and destitute of all timber or trees, except occasionally a few cabbage-trees, grass-trees, or minor shrubs; it was also without grass. Upon crossing this region deep gorges or valleys are met with, through which flow brackish or salt-water streams, and shading these are found the tea-tree and the bastard gum. The steep banks which inclose the valleys, through which the streams take their course, and which until lately we had found of an oolitic limestone, now exhibited granite, quartz, sandstone or iron-stone.

June 23.—Our horses having rambled some distance back upon our yesterday's tracks, it was late when they were recovered, and we did not get away until eleven. After travelling a mile and a half, we crossed a stream of most excellent water running over a bed of granite, in which were some large deep pools with reeds growing around their margins. A branch of this watercourse was crossed a little further on, but was quite dry where we passed it.

Nine miles from our last night's camp a view of the "Rocky Islets" was obtained from a hill, and set at due south. Immediately on descending from the hill we crossed a salt chain of ponds in a bed of sandstone and ironstone, and nine miles beyond this we came to another, also of salt water; here we halted for the night as there was tolerable grass for the horses, and we were fortunate enough to discover fresh water in a granite rock.

In the course of the afternoon I obtained a view of a very distant hill bearing from us W.8 degrees S. This I took to be the east Mount Barren of Flinders; but it was still very far away, and the intervening country looked barren and unpromising. During the day our route had still been over the same character of country as before, with this exception, that it was more stony and barren, with breccia or iron-stone grit covering the surface. The streams were less frequently met with, and were of a greatly inferior character, consisting now principally of only chains of small stagnant ponds of salt water, destitute of grass, and without any good soil in the hollows through which they took their course. Many of these, and especially those we crossed in the latter part of the day, were quite dry, and appeared to be nothing more than deep gutters washed by heavy rains between the undulations of the country.

The rock formation, where it was developed, was exclusively sandstone or ironstone, with inferior granite; and even the higher levels, which had heretofore been of a sandy nature, were now rugged and stony, and more sterile than before; the grasstrees, which generally accommodate themselves to any soil, were stunted and diminutive, and by no means so abundant as before. The general elevation of the country still appeared to be the same. I estimated it at about three hundred feet.

One circumstance, which struck me as rather singular, with regard to the last forty miles of country we had traversed, was, that it did not appear to have experienced the same weather as there had been to the eastward. The little water we found deposited in the rocks, plainly indicated that the late rains had either not fallen here at all, or in a much less degree than they had, in the direction we had come from; whilst the dry and withered state of any little grass that we found, convinced me that the earlier rains had still been more partial, so great was the contrast between the rich luxuriance of the long green grass we had met with before, and the few dry withered bunches of last year's growth, which we fell in with now.



Chapter V.



LARGE WATERCOURSE—LAKE OF FRESH WATER—HEAVY RAINS—REACH MOUNT BARREN—SALT LAKES AND STREAMS—BARREN SCRUBBY COUNTRY—RANGES BEHIND KING GEORGE'S SOUND ARE SEEN—BRACKISH PONDS—PASS CAPE RICHE—A LARGE SALT RIVER—CHAINS OF PONDS—GOOD LAND—HEAVILY TIMBERED COUNTRY—COLD WEATHER—FRESH LAKE—THE CANDIUP RIVER—KING'S RIVER—EXCESSIVE RAINS—ARRIVAL AT KING GEORGE'S SOUND AND TERMINATION OF THE EXPEDITION—RECEPTION OF WYLIE BY THE NATIVES.

June 24.—UPON moving on early this morning, we crossed the bed of a considerable watercourse, containing large deep pools of brackish water, but unconnected at present by any stream. The late hour at which we halted last night had prevented us from noticing this larger chain of ponds, and of which, that we were encamped upon formed only a branch. The country we now passed through, varied but little in character, except that the shrubs became higher, with a good deal of the Eucalyptus dumosa intermingled with them, and were entangled together by matted creepers or vines, which made it extremely difficult and fatiguing to force a way through. The whole was very sterile, and without grass.

After travelling nine miles, we passed on our right a small lake of fresh water; and two miles beyond this another, about a mile in circumference, but deep, and evidently of a permanent character. Close to this fresh water lake was another, divided from it by only a narrow neck of land, and yet the latter was as salt as the sea. We had only made a short stage as yet; but as there was a little food for the horses near the lake, I thought it more prudent to halt there than run the risk of being left without in the wretched looking country before us,

The Mount Barren ranges were observed again, but the weather was cloudy, so that I could make nothing out distinctly. In the afternoon, Wylie shot three teal, of which there were numbers on the lake. At night, our baggage and clothes had nearly all been destroyed by fire, a spark having been carried by the wind to the tarpaulin which covered them, and which, as it had been but newly tarred, was soon in a blaze. I was fortunate enough, however, to observe the accident in time to save our other effects.

June 25.—We commenced our journey early, but had not gone far before the rain began to fall, and continued until ten o'clock. Occasionally the showers came down in perfect torrents, rendering us very cold and miserable, and giving the whole country the appearance of a large puddle. We were literally walking in water; and by stooping down, almost any where as we went along, could have dipped a pint pot half full. It was dreadful work to travel thus in the water, and with the wet from the long brush soaking our clothes for so many hours; but there was no help for it, as we could not find a blade of grass for our horses, to enable us to halt sooner. The surface of the whole country was stony and barren in the extreme. A mile from our camp, we passed a small salt lake on our left; and at fifteen miles more, came to a valley with some wiry grass in it. At this I halted, as there was no prospect of getting better grass, and the water left by the rains was abundant. The latter, though it had only fallen an hour or two, was in many places quite salt, and the best of it brackish, so thoroughly saline was the nature of the soil upon which it had been deposited.

As the afternoon proved fine, I traced down the valley we were upon to its junction with a stream flowing over a granite bed, about a mile from our camp. In this the pools of water were large, deep, and brackish, but there was plenty of fresh water left by the rains in holes of the rocks upon its banks. As, however, there did not appear to be better grass upon the larger channel, than in the valley where we were, I did not think it worth while to remove our camp.

June 26.—I determined to remain in camp today to rest the horses, and to enable me to arrange their loads, so that Wylie and I might again ride occasionally. We had both walked for the last eleven days, during which we had made good a distance of 134 miles from Rossiter Bay, and as I calculated we ought under ordinary circumstances to reach the Sound in ten days more, I thought that we might occasionally indulge in riding, and relieve ourselves from the great fatigue we had hitherto been subject to, especially as the horses were daily improving in strength and condition.

Whilst I was engaged in making the necessary preparations, and throwing away some things which I thought we could dispense with, such as our bucket, some harness, ammunition, cooking utensils, and sundry other things, Wylie took the rifle, and went down to the watercourse to shoot. On his return in the afternoon he produced four teal and a black swan, as the produce of his day's sport; he had, however, shot away every charge of shot from the belt, which had been filled on board the Mississippi, and held three pounds and a half, besides three ball cartridges; how often he fired at the swan before he got it I could never discover, but I heard shot after shot as fast as he could load and fire for some time, and he himself acknowledged to firing at it seven times, but I suspect it to have been nearer twice seven.

To-day we were obliged to fetch up what water we required for our own use, from the holes in the granite rocks near the river, that lying on the ground near our camp being too salt for use.

June 27.—Upon moving on this morning we passed towards the Mount Barren ranges for ten miles through the same sterile country, and then observing a watercourse coming from the hills, I became apprehensive I should experience some difficulty in crossing it near the ranges, from their rocky and precipitous character, and at once turned more southerly to keep between the sea and a salt lake, into which the stream emptied itself. After getting nearly half round the lake, our progress was impeded by a dense and most difficult scrub of the Eucalyptus dumosa. Upon entering it we found the scrub large and strong, and growing very close together, whilst the fallen trees, dead wood, and sticks lying about in every direction, to the height of a man's breast, rendered our passage difficult and dangerous to the horses in the extreme. Indeed, when we were in the midst of it, the poor animals suffered so much, and progressed so little, that I feared we should hardly get them either through it or back again. By dint of great labour and perseverance we passed through a mile of it, and then emerging upon the beach followed it for a short distance, until steep rocky hills coming nearly bluff into the sea, obliged us to turn up under them, and encamp for the night not far from the lake. Here our horses procured tolerable grass, whilst we obtained a little fresh water for ourselves among the hollows of the rocks.

Our stage had been about thirteen miles, and our position was S. 30 degrees E. from East Mount Barren, the hills under which we were encamped being connected with that range. Most properly had it been called Mount Barren, for a more wretched aridlooking country never existed than that around it. The Mount Barren ranges are of quartz or reddish micaceous slate, the rocks project in sharp rugged masses, and the strata are all perpendicular.

June 28.—Upon getting up this morning we saw the smoke of native fires along the margin of the lake, at less than a mile from us. They had already noticed our fire, and called out repeatedly to us, but as I did not wish to come into communication with them at all, I did not reply. Soon afterwards we saw them in the midst of the lake carrying boughs, and apparently fishing. Three miles from the lake we crossed a small salt stream, and a mile further another. Four miles beyond the latter we came to a very deep narrow salt lake, swarming with swans, pelicans, and ducks. As the passage between the lake and the sea appeared to be scrubby, and very similar to that we had found so much difficulty in passing yesterday, I turned to the north-west to head it inland; but had not proceeded far before I found our progress stopped by a large salt-water stream, which joined the lake, and whose course was through steep precipitous ravines. By following the river upwards I came to a place where we could descend into its basin, and as the water there, though brackish, was still drinkable, I halted for the night after a stage of fourteen miles. The horses were a good deal tired with the rough hilly road they had passed over, and having been without water last night, stood greatly in need of rest.

In the afternoon Wylie took the rifle to shoot some of the swans and ducks around us, but was not successful. I remained at the camp, breaking down and clearing a passage amongst the shrubs and trees which grew in the rocky bed of the watercourse, to enable us to get our horses readily across to-morrow. Our position bore S. W. from East Mount Barren, E. from a bluff range three miles from us, and N. 55 degrees E. from some high hills in the direction of Middle Mount Barren. The course of the stream we were encamped upon being nearly north and south.

June 29.—Having found so much difficulty in keeping between the hills and the sea, I determined now to keep more inland, and steering W. 20 degrees N., headed all ranges in four miles. From this point East Mount Barren bore E. 20 degrees N., and as I was now clear of hills in front, I changed my course to W. 20 degrees S., passing through a barren worthless country for eleven miles, and encamping upon a deep ravine, in which we procured brackish water. Our horses were greatly fagged. From our camp West Mount Barren bore S. 41 degrees W.

June 30.—For the first ten miles to-day we had a very bad road, over steep stony ridges and valleys, covered for the most part with dense gum scrub. The surface was strewed over with rough pebbles or ironstone grit, and was broken a good deal into steep-faced ridges and deep hollows, as if formed so by the action of water. The formation of these precipitous banks appeared to be an ochre of various colours—red and yellow, and of a soft friable description. At ten miles we crossed a watercourse with many pools of brackish water in it, trending to a lake visible under the coast ridge. There was good grass near this, and many kangaroos were seen, but as no fresh water could be obtained, we passed on, and at three miles further came to a hole of rain-water in a rocky gorge, but here there was not a blade of grass. Hoping to meet with more success further on, we still advanced for twelve miles, until night compelled us at last to encamp without either grass or water, both ourselves and our horses being greatly fatigued.

In the evening we obtained a view of some high rugged and distant ranges, which I at once recognised as being the mountains immediately behind King George's Sound. At last we could almost say we were in sight of the termination of our long, harassing, and disastrous journey. Early in the morning I had told Wylie that I thought we should see the King George's Sound hills before night, but he at the time appeared rather sceptical; when, however, they did break upon our view, in picturesque though distant outline, his joy knew no bounds. For the first time on our journey he believed we should really reach the Sound at last. The cheering and not-to-be-mistaken view before him had dissipated all his doubts. Once more he gazed upon objects that were familiar to him; the home of his childhood was before him, and already almost in fancy he was there, and amongst his friends; he could think, or talk of nothing else, and actually complimented me upon the successful way in which I had conducted him to the end of his journey. From our camp the distant ranges bore W. 5 degrees S., and West Mount Barren E. 5 degrees S.

July 1.—After travelling three miles we came to a chain of large ponds of brackish water, but with excellent grass around them, and as the horses had nothing to eat or drink last night we halted for three hours. The water was bad, but they drank it, and we were obliged to do so too, after an ineffectual search for better. At noon we again moved on, and after proceeding about five miles, came to a large watercourse where the water was excellent, and the feed abundant. Here we halted for the night, to make our horses amends for the bad fare and hard work of yesterday. From the hill above our camp West Mount Barren bore E. 8 degrees N., Middle Mount Barren E. 21 degrees N., and Rugged Mountains behind the Sound, W. 4 degrees S. The watercourse we were upon, like all those we had lately crossed, had perpendicular cliffs abutting upon it, either on one side or the other, and the channel through which it wound looked almost like a cut made through the level country above it. A few casuarinae were observed in parts of the valley, being the first met with since those seen near Cape Arid.

July 2.—Our route to-day lay through a country much covered with gum-scrub, banksias, and other shrubs, besides occasionally a few patches of stunted gum-trees growing in clumps in small hollows, where water appeared to lodge after rains. At two miles we crossed a small watercourse, and at fifteen further, came to a deep valley with fine fresh-water pools in it, and tolerable feed around; here we halted for the night. The valley we were upon (and one or two others near) led to a much larger one below, through which appeared to take its course the channel of a considerable watercourse trending towards a bight in the coast at S. 17 degrees W.

Some high land, seen to the southward and westward of us, I took to be Cape Riche, a point I should like greatly to have visited, but did not think it prudent to go so far out of my direct course, in the circumstances I was travelling under.

July 3.—Upon commencing our journey to-day I found our route was much intersected by deep ravines and gorges, all trending to the larger valley below, and where I had no doubt a large chain of ponds, and probably much good land, would have been found. After proceeding four miles and a half, we were stopped by a large salt-water river, which seemed to be very deep below where we struck it, and trended towards a bight of the coast where it appeared to form a junction with the sea.

Many oyster and cockle shells were on its shore. This was the largest river we had yet come to, and it gave us much trouble to cross it, for, wherever it appeared fordable, the bed was so soft and muddy, that we dared not venture to take our horses into it. By tracing it upwards for eight miles, we at last found a rocky shelf extending across, by which we were enabled to get to the other side. At the point where we crossed, it had become only a narrow rocky channel; but there was a strong stream running, and I have no doubt, higher up, the water might probably have been quite fresh. Its waters flowed from a direction nearly of west-north-west, and appeared to emanate from the high rugged ranges behind King George's Sound. The country about the lower or broad part of this river, as far as I traced it, was rocky and bad; but higher up, there was a good deal of grass, and the land appeared improving. In the distance, the hills seemed less rocky and more grassy, and might probably afford fair runs for sheep. Upon the banks of the river were a few casuarinae and more of the tea-tree, and bastard gum, than we had seen before upon any other watercourse.

Upon crossing the river, we found the country getting more wooded, with a stunted-looking tree, apparently of the same species as the stringy bark, with bastard gums, and large banksias, the intervals being filled up with grass-trees and brush, or shrubs, common at King George's Sound. At dark we could find no water, and I therefore pushed on by moonlight, making Wylie lead one of the horses whilst I drove the rest after him. At nine o'clock, we came to a deep valley with plenty of water and grass in it, and here we halted for the night, after a stage of full thirty miles. The early part of the morning had been very wet, and it continued to rain partially for the greatest part of the day, rendering us very cold and uncomfortable. At night it was a severe frost.

July 4.—Our horses having been a good deal fagged yesterday, I did not disturb them early, and it was nearly noon when we moved away from our encampment, crossing the main watercourse, of which the ponds we were upon last night were only a branch. In the larger channel, there were many fine pools of water, connected by a strongly running stream in a deep narrow bed, and which wound at a course of E. 25 degrees S. through a valley of soft, spongy, peaty formation, and over which we had much trouble in getting our horses, one having sunk very deep, and being with difficulty extricated. After travelling two miles and a half, we obtained a view of Bald Island, bearing S. 15 degrees W.; and in two miles and a half more, we crossed a fine chain of ponds, taking its course through narrow valleys between hills of granite; these valleys and the slopes of the hills were heavily timbered; the soil was very rich, either a reddish loam, or a light black mixed with sand, and the grass interspersed among the trees was abundant and luxuriant. After ascending the range, we passed principally over stony hills, and valleys heavily timbered, and with brush or underwood, filling up the interstices of the trees.

Ten miles from our last night's camp we crossed the tracks of horses, apparently of no very old date, this being the first symptom we had yet observed of our approach towards the haunts of civilised man. The day was cold with heavy squalls of rain, and as the night appeared likely to be worse, I halted early, after a stage of thirteen miles. After dark the rain ceased, and the night cleared up, but was very cold.

July 5.—Another rainy day, and so excessively cold that we were obliged to walk to keep ourselves at all warm; we spent a miserable time, splashing through the wet underwood, and at fifteen miles we passed a fresh water lake, in a valley between some hills. This Wylie recognised as a place he had once been at before, and told me that he now knew the road well, and would act as guide, upon which I resigned the post of honour to him, on his promising always to take us to grass and water at night. Two miles and a half beyond the lake, we came to a fresh water swamp, and a mile beyond that to another, at which we halted for the night, with plenty of water, but very little grass. During the day, we had been travelling generally through a very heavily timbered country.

At night the rain set in again, and continued to fall in torrents at intervals; we got dreadfully drenched, and suffered greatly from cold and want of rest, being obliged to stand or walk before the fire, nearly the whole night.

July 6.—The morning still very wet and miserably cold. With Wylie acting as guide, we reached in eight miles, the Candiup river, a large chain of ponds, connected by a running stream, and emptying into a wide and deep arm of the sea, with much rich and fertile land upon its banks. The whole district was heavily timbered, and had good grass growing amongst the trees. From the very heavy rains that had fallen, we had great trouble in crossing many of the streams, which were swollen by the floods into perfect torrents. In the Candiup river I had to wade, cold and chill as I was, seven times through, with the water breast high, and a current that I with difficulty could keep my feet against, in order to get the horses over in safety; the only fordable place was at a narrow ledge of rocks, and with so strong a stream, and such deep water below the ledge, I dared not trust Wylie to lead any of them, but went back, and took each horse across myself. The day was bitterly cold and rainy, and I began to suffer severely from the incessant wettings I had been subject to for many days past.

Four miles beyond the Candiup river, we came to King's river, a large salt arm of Oyster Harbour, here my friend Wylie, who insisted upon it that he knew the proper crossing place, took me into a large swampy morass, and in endeavouring to take the horses through, three of them got bogged and were nearly lost, and both myself and Wylie were detained in the water and mud for a couple of hours, endeavouring to extricate them. At last we succeeded, but the poor animals were sadly weakened and strained, and we were compelled to return back to the same side of the river, and encamp for the night, instead of going on to King George's Sound as I had intended!

Fortunately there was tolerable grass, and fresh water lay every where about in great abundance, so that the horses would fare well, but for ourselves there was a cheerless prospect. For three days and nights, we had never had our clothes dry, and for the greater part of this time, we had been enduring in full violence the pitiless storm—whilst wading so constantly through the cold torrents in the depth of the winter season, and latterly being detained in the water so long a time at the King's river, had rendered us rheumatic, and painfully sensitive to either cold or wet. I hoped to have reached Albany this evening, and should have done so, as it was only six miles distant, if it had not been for the unlucky attempt to cross King's river. Now we had another night's misery before us, for we had hardly lain down before the rain began to fall again in torrents. Wearied and worn-out as we were, with the sufferings and fatigues of the last few days, we could neither sit nor lie down to rest; our only consolation under the circumstances being, that however bad or inclement the weather might be, it was the last night we should be exposed to its fury.

July 7.—Getting up the horses early, we proceeded up the King's river, with a view of attempting to cross, but upon sounding the depths in one or two places, I found the tide, which was rising, was too high; I had only the alternative, therefore, of waiting for several hours until the water ebbed, or else of leaving the horses, and proceeding on without them. Under all the circumstances, I decided upon the latter; the rain was still falling very heavily, and the river before us was so wide and so dangerous for horses, from its very boggy character, that I did not think it prudent to attempt to force a passage, or worth while to delay to search for a proper crossing place. There was good feed for the horses where they were, and plenty of water, so that I knew they would fare better by remaining than if they were taken on to the Sound; whilst it appeared to me more than probable that I should have no difficulty, whenever I wished to get them, to procure a guide to go for and conduct them safely across, at the proper crossing place.

Having turned our horses loose, and piled up our baggage, now again greatly reduced, I took my journals and charts, and with Wylie forded the river about breast high. We were soon on the other side, and rapidly advancing towards the termination of our journey; the rain was falling in torrents, and we had not a dry shred about us, whilst the whole country through which we passed, had, from the long-continued and excessive rains, become almost an uninterrupted chain of puddles. For a great part of the way we walked up to our ankles in water. This made our progress slow, and rendered our last day's march a very cold and disagreeable one. Before reaching the Sound, we met a native, who at once recognised Wylie, and greeted him most cordially. From him we learnt that we had been expected at the Sound some months ago, but had long been given up for lost, whilst Wylie had been mourned for and lamented as dead by his friends and his tribe. The rain still continued falling heavily as we ascended to the brow of the hill immediately overlooking the town of Albany—not a soul was to be seen—not an animal of any kind—the place looked deserted and uninhabited, so completely had the inclemency of the weather driven both man and beast to seek shelter from the storm.

For a moment I stood gazing at the town below me—that goal I had so long looked forward to, had so laboriously toiled to attain, was at last before me. A thousand confused images and reflections crowded through my mind, and the events of the past year were recalled in rapid succession. The contrast between the circumstances under which I had commenced and terminated my labours stood in strong relief before me. The gay and gallant cavalcade that accompanied me on my way at starting—the small but enterprising band that I then commanded, the goodly array of horses and drays, with all their well-ordered appointments and equipment were conjured up in all their circumstances of pride and pleasure; and I could not restrain a tear, as I called to mind the embarrassing difficulties and sad disasters that had broken up my party, and left myself and Wylie the two sole wanderers remaining at the close of an undertaking entered upon under such hopeful auspices.

Whilst standing thus upon the brow overlooking the town, and buried in reflection, I was startled by the loud shrill cry of the native we had met on the road, and who still kept with us: clearly and powerfully that voice rang through the recesses of the settlement beneath, whilst the blended name of Wylie told me of the information it conveyed. For an instant there was a silence still almost as death—then a single repetition of that wild joyous cry, a confused hum of many voices, a hurrying to and fro of human feet, and the streets which had appeared so shortly before gloomy and untenanted, were now alive with natives—men, women and children, old and young, rushing rapidly up the hill, to welcome the wanderer on his return, and to receive their lost one almost from the grave.

It was an interesting and touching sight to witness the meeting between Wylie and his friends. Affection's strongest ties could not have produced a more affecting and melting scene—the wordless weeping pleasure, too deep for utterance, with which he was embraced by his relatives, the cordial and hearty reception given him by his friends, and the joyous greeting bestowed upon him by all, might well have put to the blush those heartless calumniators, who, branding the savage as the creature only of unbridled passions, deny to him any of those better feelings and affections which are implanted in the breast of all mankind, and which nature has not denied to any colour or to any race.

Upon entering the town I proceeded direct to Mr. Sherrats', where I had lodged when in King George's Sound, in 1840. By him and his family I was most hospitably received, and every attention shewn to me; and in the course of a short time, after taking a glass of hot brandy and water, performing my ablutions and putting on a clean suit of borrowed clothes, I was enabled once more to feel comparatively comfortable, and to receive the many kind friends who called upon me.

I feel great pleasure in the opportunity now afforded me of recording the grateful feelings I entertain towards the residents at Albany for the kindness I experienced upon this occasion. Wet as the day was, I had hardly been two hours at Mr. Sherrats before I was honoured by a visit from Lady Spencer, from the Government-resident, Mr. Phillips, and from almost all the other residents and visitors at the settlement,—all vying with each other in their kind attentions and congratulations, and in every offer of assistance or accommodation which it was in their power to render.

Finding that a vessel would shortly sail for Adelaide, I at once engaged my passage, and proceeded to make arrangements for leaving King George's Sound.

To the Governor of the Colony, Mr. Hutt, I wrote a brief report of my journey, which was forwarded, with a copy both of my own and Wylie's depositions, relative to the melancholy loss of my overseer on the 29th April. I then had my horses got up from the King's river, and left them in the care of Mr. Phillips, who had in the most friendly manner offered to take charge of them until they recovered their condition and could be sold.

Wylie was to remain at the Sound with his friends, and to receive from the Government a weekly allowance of provisions, [Note 29: This was confirmed by Governor Hutt.] by order of Mr. Phillips; who promised to recommend that it should be permanently continued, as a reward for the fidelity and good conduct he had displayed whilst accompanying me in the desert.

On the 13th July I wished my friends good bye, and in the afternoon went on board the Truelove to sail for Adelaide; whilst working out of harbour we were accompanied as long as any of the shore boats remained, by some of the natives of the place, who were most anxious to have gone with me to Adelaide. Wylie had given them so flattering an account of South Australia and its pleasures, that he had excited the envy and curiosity of the whole tribe; dozens applied to me to take them, and I really think I could have filled the ship had I been disposed; one or two, more persevering than the rest, would not be denied, and stuck close to the vessel to the last, in the hope that I might relent and take them with me before the pilot boat left, but upon this occurring, to their great discomforture, they were compelled to return disappointed.

On the afternoon of the 26th of July I arrived in Adelaide, after an absence of one year and twenty-six days.



Chapter VI.



CONCLUDING REMARKS.

Having now brought to a close the narrative of my explorations in 1840-1, it may not be out of place to take a brief and cursory review of the whole, and to state generally what have been the results effected. In making this summary, I have no important rivers to enumerate, no fertile regions to point out for the future spread of colonization and civilization, or no noble ranges to describe from which are washed the debris that might form a rich and fertile district beneath them; on the contrary, all has been arid and barren in the extreme.

Such, indeed, has been the sterile and desolate character of the wilderness I have traversed, and so great have been the difficulties thereby entailed upon me, that throughout by far the greater portion of it, I have never been able to delay a moment in my route, or to deviate in any way from the line I was pursuing, to reconnoitre or examine what may haply be beyond. Even in the latter part of my travels, when within the colony of Western Australia, and when the occasionally meeting with tracts of a better soil, or with watercourses appearing to have an outlet to the ocean, rendered the country one of much greater interest, I was quite unable, from the circumstances under which I was placed, the reduced and worn-out state of my horses, and the solitary manner in which I was travelling, ever to deviate from my direct line of route, either to examine more satisfactorily the character of the country, or to determine whether the watercourses, some of which occasionally bore the character of rivers (though of only short course), had embouchures opening to the sea or not.

In a geographical point of view, I would hope the result of my labours has not been either uninteresting, or incommensurate with the nature of the expedition placed under my command, and the character of the country I had to explore. By including in the summary I am now making, the journeys I undertook in 1839, as well as those of 1840-1 (for a considerable portion of the country then examined was recrossed by the Northern Expedition), it will be seen that I have discovered and examined a tract of country to the north of Adelaide, which was previously unknown, of about 270 miles in length, extending between the parallels of 33 degrees 40 minutes and 29 degrees S. latitude. In longitude, that part of my route which was before unknown, extends between the parallels of 138 degrees E., and 118 degrees 40 minutes E., or about 1060 miles of direct distance. These being connected with the previously known portions of South-western, South-eastern, and part of Southern Australia, complete the examination of the whole of the south line of the coast of this continent. Indeed, I have myself (at various times) crossed over the whole of this distance from east to west, from Sydney to Swan River. In the early part of the Expedition, 1840, the continuation of Flinders range, from Mount Arden, was traced and laid down to its termination, near the parallel of 29 degrees S. It was ascertained to be hemmed in by an impassable barrier, consisting of the basin of an immense lake, which I named Lake Torrens, and which, commencing from the head of Spencer's Gulf, increased in width as it swept to the north-west, but subsequently bent round again to the north-east, east and south-east, in correspondence with the trend of Flinders range, the northern extremity of which it completely surrounded in the form of a horse-shoe. The shores of this lake I visited to the westward of Flinders range, at three different points, from eighty to ninety miles apart from each other, and on all these occasions I found the basin to consist, as far as I could penetrate, of a mass of mud and sand, coated on the surface with a crust of salt, but having water mixed with it beneath. At the most north-westerly point attained by me, water was found in an arm of the main lake, about two feet deep, clear, and salt as the sea; it did not extend, however, more than two or three hundred yards, nor did it continue to the bed of the main lake, which appeared, from a rise that I ascended near the arm, to be of the same character and consistency as before. The whole course of the lake, to the farthest point visited by me, was bounded by a steep, continuous, sandy ridge, exactly like a sea-shore ridge; those parts of its course to the north, and to the east of Flinders range, which I did not go down to, were seen and laid down from various heights in that mountain chain. Altogether, the outline of this extraordinary feature, as thus observed and traced, could not have extended over a circuit of less than 400 miles.