August 6.—At eight o'clock the horses set forward with half the baggage; with considerable difficulty they at length reached the hill, and were immediately sent back for the remainder of the stores. The hill was about three miles from our camp, and from it a view of Arbuthnot's Range was obtained, distant nine or ten miles: its elevated points were extremely lofty, and of a dark, barren, and gloomy appearance; the rocks were of a dark grey, approaching to black, and from their crevices, a few stunted trees protruded themselves. It was half past three o'clock before every thing was removed to the foot of the hill, when it was much too late to think of proceeding, anxious as we were to arrive at the main range itself. We killed this day one of the largest kangaroos we had seen in any part of New South Wales, being from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty pounds weight. These animals live in flocks like sheep; and I do not exaggerate, when I say that some hundreds were seen in the vicinity of this hill; it was consequently named Kangaroo Hill: several beautiful little rills of water have their source in it, but are soon lost in the immeasurable morass at its base.

August 7.—About a mile from Kangaroo Hill, after crossing a marshy plain, we came to a limestone rock, spreading in smaller pieces over a low hill. It is somewhat remarkable, that this stone should again be found precisely under the same meridian as seen on the Lachlan and Macquarie Rivers: the same stratum appears to have run from south to north, upwards of two hundred miles. This hill is certainly its northern termination, since beyond it the low and marshy plains of the interior commence. At one o'clock we arrived under the hill which Mr. Evans had previously ascended: at this spot I intended to remain a couple of days, as well to refresh the horses, as for the purpose of ascending Mount Exmouth, from whence I promised myself an extensive view of the country over which our intended route lay. On ascending the hill before mentioned, I was surprised with the remarkable effect which the situation appeared to have on the compass. The station I had chosen was the highest part, and nearly the centre of the hill; placing the compass on the rock before me, the card flew round with extreme velocity, and then suddenly settled at opposite points, the north point becoming the south. Astonished at such a phenomenon, I made the following observations. The compass on the rock, Mount Exmouth, bore S. 60. W. (its true bearing being N. 75. E.), and on raising it gradually to the eye, the card was violently agitated, and the same point now bore N. 67. E. About one hundred yards farther south, the compass was again placed on the rock; the effect on the compass was very different, Mount Exmouth bore E. 48. S., and the tent in the valley beneath S. 74. W. The card on raising the compass was rather less agitated than before, and from the eye, Mount Exmouth bore N. 77. E., and the tent S. 15. W., the true bearing of the latter being S. 13 1/2. W. Thus the magnetic fluid seemed on this spot to have less influence on the needle, than on the spot where its power was first observed; and at a short distance from the base of the hill the needle regained its natural position. The rocks, when broken, were of a dark iron grey: they did not appear to contain any iron, for when tried at the tent, the magnet had no power over them. I could not discern any regular stratum of rock, the hill being covered with large detached stones, many of which formed figures of five and six sides: the evening was too far advanced to permit any farther observations to be made. [Note: The island of Cannay, one of the Hebrides, affects the needle in a nearly similar manner. A rock in it is named The Loadstone Rock.] Observed the variation of the needle by azimuth, to be 6. 22. E.

August 8.—We set off early this morning to ascend Mount Exmouth, distant four or five miles: at its base we crossed a pretty stream of water, having its source in the Mount; it took us nearly two hours of hard labour to ascend its rugged summits: we were however amply gratified for our trouble by the extensive prospect we had of the surrounding country. Directing our view to the west, Mount Harris and Mount Forster, whose elevations do not exceed from two to three hundred feet, were distinctly seen at a distance of eighty-nine miles. These two spots excepted, from the south to the north it was a vast level, resembling the ocean in extent and appearance. From east-north-east to south, the country was broken and irregular; lofty hills arising from the midst of lesser elevations, their summits crowned with perpendicular rocks, in every variety of shape and form that the wildest imagination could paint. To this grand and picturesque scenery, Mount Exmouth presented a perpendicular front of at least one thousand feet high, when its descent became more gradual to its base in the valley beneath, its total elevation being little less than three thousand feet. To the north-east commencing at N. 33. E., and extending to N. 51. E., a lofty and magnificent range of hills was seen lifting their blue heads above the horizon. This range was honoured with the name of the Earl of Hardwicke, and was distant on a medium from one hundred to one hundred and twenty miles: its highest elevations were named respectively Mount Apsley, and Mount Shirley. The country between Mount Exmouth and this bounding range was broken into rugged hills, and apparently deep valleys, and several minor ranges of hills also appeared. The high lands from the east and south-east gradually lessened to the north-west, when they were lost in the immense levels, which bound the interior abyss of this singular country; the gulf in which both water and mountain seem to be as nothing. Mount Exmouth seems principally composed of iron-stone; and some of the richest ore I had yet seen was found upon it. On its sides were many different stones; but its perpendicular cliffs were of a dark bluish grey colour, shining when broken, very heavy, and close grained. Mount Harris, and Mount Exmouth, are composed of distinct materials, and in their formation bear not the slightest resemblance to each other; the granite of the former being more allied to the hills to the south-south-east of it, from which however it is distant at least one hundred miles, a perfect level filling up the intermediate space. Many new, and otherwise interesting subjects of the indigenous botany were discovered on the hills: among which were a species of persoonia, not previously observed, some xanthorrhaeae or grass trees, and two or three coast plants. The heteromorphous sterculia of the interior, and some species of eucalyptus of very stunted growth covered its sides, which however for a considerable distance were not deficient in grass. Sandstone was found in large masses in the rivulet at its base, with pebbles of various colours, and of species none of which was found on the mount itself. It was near four o'clock before we returned to the tent, highly gratified with our excursion.

August 9.—In the course of the day, I again ascended Loadstone Hill, and repeated the experiments made on Friday, with the same results. Several different stations on the summit were tried, and the needle was variously affected; the spot where the phenomenon was first observed seemed to have the greatest effect on the needle. A common sewing needle was strongly rubbed with a magnet, and balanced on the point of the rock, when it was much agitated, and the point flew round from the north to the south. The needle of the circumferenter, taken out of the box, was affected in a similar manner, only that when balanced on the rock, the fluid did not possess sufficient power to turn the point more than one point of the circle instead of quite round, as when balanced in the compass box. A compound magnet was laid on the rock, and applied to it in different ways, but it did not seem in any manner affected by the power which had so surprised us with its effect on the compass. The weather within the last week has become perceptibly warmer: the thermometer being seldom under 70 degrees at noon. The fires of the natives were seen at no great distance from us; and they seem to attend upon our motions pretty closely. The observations made here placed us in lat. 31. 13. S., long. 148. 41. 30. E., and I estimate the mean variation to be about 7 1/2 easterly. We found that no reliance could be placed on bearings taken with the compass on heights in this vicinity, and I am fearful that the bearings taken from Mount Exmouth will require verification, a difference of 4 degrees being observed in some, when compared with other bearings, which could not be supposed to be affected by the magnetic fluid.

August 10.—Proceeded on our journey: our course for the first six or seven miles being to the north-north-east, and afterwards north-east half east, which latter course I intended to steer for some time. It was the best day's travelling we had experienced since quitting the Macquarie River, being generally over low strong ridges, the sides and summits of some of which were very thick brush of cypress trees, and small shrubs, particularly the last two miles. We stopped for the evening in an extensive low valley north of Mount Exmouth, and running under its base, bounded on the north-east by low forest hills. To the south the hills were rocky, abrupt, and precipitous. On the whole we accomplished eleven miles.

August 11.—Our route lay over low valleys of considerable extent of open forest ground, but so soft and boggy, that it was with difficulty we made any progress: it would seem that much rain had fallen here lately, and completely saturated the soil, which is a light, sandy mould. In these valleys there are small streams of water, having their origin in the surrounding hills; they all terminate northerly. We could accomplish but seven miles on a north-east by east course. In the evening we had an awful storm of thunder and lightning, accompanied with torrents of rain. The reverberation of sound among the hills was astonishing. The natives continue in our vicinity unheeded, and unheeding: even the noise of their mogo upon the trees is a relief from the otherwise utter loneliness of feeling we cannot help experiencing in these desolate wilds.

August 12.—We found that we could not maintain our direct course, as the low ground was so boggy, that the horses were altogether unable to move on it. Keeping therefore the banks of the little stream where the ground was firmer, we reached the chain of hills bounding the valley to the southward: we wound along the base of the hills on a variety of courses, not being able to quit them twenty yards without being bogged. Finding that the hills trended too much to the south-west, we kept down the bed of a small stream for two or three miles, and halted on a fine apple tree flat of rich land, watered by a very fine small stream, which was joined by the one we came down. The main strewn ran to the northward. The apple tree flats are uniformly of firm hard ground, while the soil on which grow the iron-bark, pine, and box, is as invariably a loose sand, rendered by the rain a perfect quicksand. These bogs are the more provoking, as without such impediments the country is clear and open, and as favourable for travelling over as could be wished: we have had any thing but a dry season, and it is to the heavy rain which might naturally be expected to fall near high mountains, that our present difficulties must be ascribed. We travelled between nine and ten miles, but our course made good was nearly south-east only five miles. A few new plants were found: the hills were a mere bed of iron ore.

August 13.—We proceeded at our usual hour; and did not halt till near sunset, but accomplished no more than six miles, in the course of which the horses were obliged to be unladen, and the men carried the loads upwards of half a mile before the horses could be got across the quicksands. They are indeed properly so termed, consisting of two or three inches of light mould, on about eighteen inches of loose sand, the whole covering a rocky or stony bottom. On treading on them, water would fly up several inches; and it was with difficulty men could pass over them, much less horses. Quicksands of a similar nature prevented our reaching a small creek running under a high craggy ridge of hills; we therefore stopped at the edges of them, every body completely worn out. The appearance of the country passed over was most desolate and forbidding, but quite open, interspersed with miserable rocky crags, on which grew the cypress and eucalyptus. On the more level portions of the country, a new and large species of eucalyptus, and another of its genus (the iron bark), were the principal if not the only trees. Many of the rocks were pointed and basaltic, but the general species was a coarse sandstone. Miserable as the country was in other respects, it was fruitful in new plants.

August 14.—As it rained hard during the night, and the rain still continued to fall in thick showers, I thought it advisable to rest.

August 15.—Cloudy, with strong winds from the south-east. We crossed the creek about two miles from our resting-place, but soon found that any attempt to advance in that quarter would be abortive, the morass and quicksands extending into the very water, and denying all egress. We therefore recrossed the rivulet about a mile more northerly with better success, and succeeded in gaining some stony hills, which, with two or three intervening marshy valleys, continued for the rest of the day's route; the latter part being up very high, rocky, barren hills, with narrow defiles. From these heights we descended into a pretty valley of considerable extent, and, to our great joy, of sound, firm soil, with plenty of good grass: the water however was strongly impregnated with iron, so that we could hardly drink it. This valley, which we named Wiltden Valley, was enclosed on all sides except the north, by lofty, rocky hills of coarse sandstone, adorned with various species of acacia in full bloom, with a vast variety of other flowering shrubs of the most beautiful and delicate description, adding greatly to our botanical collection. We accomplished in the whole twelve or thirteen miles, about six of which were in the direction of our proper course.

August 16.—We had hardly begun to lade the horses, when the rain recommenced with greater violence than in the night, and effectually prevented us from proceeding. The country presents sufficient obstructions to our progress, not to render the delay caused by a day's rain a matter of much inquietude. The loss of time is of little consideration, when compared with the soft and boggy ground which such heavy falls leave. A species of banksia was seen to-day under the same meridian as on the Macquarie. It would seem that particular productions of the vegetable as well as of the mineral kingdom run in veins nearly north and south through the country. This peculiarity has been remarked of other plants, besides the species of banksia.

August 17.—Our course this day led us over a barren, rocky country, consisting of low stony ranges, divided by valleys of pure sand, and usually wet and marshy: latterly we appear to be descending from a considerable height, to a lower country to the north-east. The whole was a mere scrub covered with dwarf iron barks, apple trees, and small gums; the soil scarcely any thing but sand, on which grass grew in single detached roots. The horses fell repeatedly in the course of the day, and they were now so weak that they sank at every soft place. Between four and five o'clock, after travelling about ten hours, we stopped at a small drain of water for the night, having accomplished nearly eleven miles. In our track we saw no signs of natives, and the country seemed abandoned of every living thing. Silence and desolation reigned around.

August 18.—It is impossible to describe in adequate language the different trying obstructions we encountered during this day's journey: after meeting and overcoming many minor difficulties of bog and quicksand, we had accomplished nearly eleven miles, and were looking out for a place to rest, when we entered a very thick forest of small iron barks which had been lately burnt; and their black stems and branches, with the dull bluish colour of their foliage, gave the whole a singularly dismal and gloomy appearance. So thick was the forest that we could hardly turn our horses, nor could the sun's rays penetrate to the sandy desert on which these trees grew. Without the usual appearances of a bog, our horses were in an instant up to their bellies, and the difficulties we had in extricating them would hardly obtain belief. In this dilemma, scarcely able to see which way to turn, we traversed the margin of this extensive quicksand for nearly three miles in a direction contrary to our course, before we could find firm ground or water for the horses, which we did not effect till sunset; and then (as for the last three days) there was nothing for them to eat but prickly grass, which possesses no nourishing qualities. This fare, after their hard labour, reduces them daily.

August 19.—After wandering about the whole day without gaining any thing on our course, for the quicksands kept us revolving as it were in a circle, the exhaustion of the horses obliged us to stop. It was painful to behold them, after being disencumbered of their loads, lay themselves down like dogs about us: it was the fourth day that they had been without grass, and they preferred the tender branches of shrubs, etc., to the prickly grass. The backs of the greater part of them were, notwithstanding every care, dreadfully galled, so that they could, when first saddled, scarcely stand under their burdens. These quicksands lie in the hollows between the low irregular hills, which rise on this otherwise level country: their point of discharge is uniformly north-westerly. The union of many of these minor drains forms occasionally a large one, and the points of the hills which meet upon them afford the only means of crossing them. It was evident that the early part of the winter had been very wet., and the late rains had probably been the cause of these morasses, which still continued to drain themselves off in running water. This region must at all times be impassable from opposite causes: in wet seasons it is a bog; in dry ones, there is no water. Finding, as above remarked, that northerly and north-east the country declined as it were to nothing, it was resolved to pursue a more easterly course than that hitherto followed; and instead of attempting to go round the morasses which we might meet with to the north, to follow them southerly, a course which in time must certainly take us to a more elevated country. Such a road is rendered now absolutely necessary by the condition of the horses. Our dogs, which had so long contributed to our support, had been for the last four days dependant upon us for theirs, and we were too much indebted to their exertions not to share our meals with them with cheerfulness. These woods abound with kangaroo rats, and it is singular that, pinched as the dogs were, they would not touch them even when cooked.

August 20.—This day after travelling upwards of nine miles, and having pushed the horses at the risk of their lives through two minor branches of the bog, what was our mortification to find, that we were within a few hundred yards of the spot we set out from! We had first attempted to cross the main bog northerly, and afterwards kept along its edge southerly; and the result was, that we found it to extend in a complete circle around us. From a slight rise in the centre of it, we could see the country to the north-east, north, and north-west, low and uneven; Hardwicke's Range distant about forty miles, bounding it between the north and east. The result of this day's exertion quite subdued our fortitude, and for a moment a feeling nearly allied to despair had possession of our minds. We knew not which way to turn ourselves. To return to Arbuthnot's Range, and again undergo what it had cost us so much to overcome, could not be thought of for a moment; but upon that mature reflection which our serious situation demanded, it was deemed the most prudent plan to return so far back as would enable us to reach the higher lands to the south-east. This we expected to do by Saturday evening: twenty miles back we had left land of considerable elevation; and we could only hope that in its vicinity we should find a dry ridge on which to accomplish our purpose, and occasionally a patch of country in which the horses might find subsistence; for they were at present very much reduced.

August 23.—We returned yesterday to Parry's Rivulet, within twelve miles of Weltden Valley, which was the whole distance we had gone in the direction of our course towards the coast, although we had travelled during the week upwards of seventy miles. The weather for the last four days has been extremely tempestuous, with slight showers of hail and rain: the winds were chiefly from the west and north-west, the temperature being extremely cold for the latitude and season. The observations of to-day place this station in lat. 30. 57. 20., long. 149. 20. E. Variation 8. 42. E.

August 24.—We were a little surprised at finding that a severe frost had taken place during the night, and that the thermometer was now as low as 28 degrees. Ice lay within a few yards of our fire, of the thickness of a dollar. Our course throughout the day was southerly, and led us up the banks of Parry's Rivulet. We experienced fewer difficulties than on any day since we had entered this desert, and accomplished between nine and ten miles, at the end of which we entered a small valley of good forest ground with tolerable grass; though early in the day, the horses needed refreshment too much, not to induce me to stop here for the remainder of it: as we could not at the utmost have gone above two miles farther. This valley, and the appearance of forest hills to the southward, gave us strong hopes that by continuing our present course for a day or two longer we should get into a better line of country, and be enabled to resume our easterly course. Parry's Rivulet was here a series of large ponds, near which were traces of natives, but of old date. In this desert, we have never met with any signs that can lead us to believe it has ever been before crossed by any human being.

August 25.—A smart frost during the night: the morning fine and clear. At eight o'clock we proceeded on our route, taking a more easterly direction according to circumstances. Between three and four miles from our camp, we had an extensive view to the east and south-east, and saw with extreme satisfaction a lofty chain of fine forest hills thinly timbered, bearing east-south-east of us; and distant fourteen or fifteen miles. To the east were extensive flats, bare of timber, and apparently either composed of white sand, or covered with dead grass; our distance would not enable us to distinguish which: these flats were bounded by remote rising hills seemingly clear and open. A high peak, bearing north, was named Kerr's Peak; and a very lofty mount, under which the west extremity of the plains lay, was named Mount Tetley: and the westernmost remarkable hill in the chain first mentioned, Whitwell Hill. The bogginess and ruggedness of our route, for the remainder of the day, sufficiently tried our strength: we accomplished however thirteen miles, and halted in a small valley about four miles south of Whitwell Hill. This valley was bounded east and west by rocky hills, but the soil was better, and the grass of good quality. The base of these hills was of close-grained white-coloured granite, or whinstone: the summits of good freestone: on the sides several good pieces of iron ore were picked up.

August 26.—While Mr. Evans proceeded with the horses on an eastern course for Mount Tetley, Dr. Harris and myself went towards the spacious valley at the foot of Whitwell Hill. This we soon reached, and travelled down its centre, along the banks of a beautiful stream of water which fertilized and drained it. The extent of this valley towards the south-west, we could not discover, as its windings were lost among the forest hills in that direction. We went down to the east between seven and eight miles, when we rejoined the horses at the base of an elevated conical hill, standing detached at its east entrance, which was here four or five miles wide. On ascending this hill, the view which was on all sides presented to our delighted eyes was of the most varied and exhilarating kind. Hills, dales, and plains of the richest description lay before us, bounded to the east by fine hills, beyond which were seen elevated mountains. To the north-east an extensive valley, from eight to ten miles wide, led to Hardwicke's Range, being a distance of about thirty-five miles. In this great valley were numerous low hills and plains, thinly studded with timber, and watered by the stream, down the banks of which we had travelled. From its eastern side, these low hills gradually rose to a loftier elevation: but were still thinly timbered, and covered with grass. To the east-south-east, and south-east, clear plains extended to the foot of very lofty forest hills, at a medium distance of from twenty-five to forty miles. These were the plains seen on our yesterday's route, and which we feared were sand. We found them to consist of a rich dry vegetable soil; and although, from their vast extent, they may, as a whole, be properly denominated plains, yet their surfaces were slightly broken into gentle eminences with occasional clumps, and lines of timber. Their white appearance was occasioned by the grass having been burnt early in the year, and the young growth killed by the frosts. The little rivulet, that watered the north-west side of this track of country, had overflowed within these few days; but the ground left by the retreating waters was as firm and solid, as those parts which had not been touched. The sides of the hills were of the same black mould, stony towards their summits, and the higher eminences rocky. The rocks were of a very hard whinstone, the stratum nearly perpendicular, or rather standing up in regular basaltic figures, similar to those on Loadstone Hill. These valleys and hills abound with kangaroos, and on the plains numbers of emus were seen. We seemed to be once more in the land of plenty, and the horses as well as men had cause to rejoice at the change, from the miserable harassing deserts through which we had been struggling for the last six weeks, to this beautiful and fertile country. From the hill on which we stood, bearings were taken to the most remarkable points and objects connected with the survey; and the most distinguished, in point of beauty or singularity of appearance, were honoured with distinctive appellations. The valley down which we had travelled was called Lushington's Valley (after the Secretary to His Majesty's Treasury); the extensive one to the north-east, leading to Hardwicke's Range, Camden Valley (after the noble Marquis); the plains to the east and south-east were honoured with the name of Lord Liverpool; the hills bounding Lushington's Valley, on the south side, Vansittart's Hills, after the Chancellor of the Exchequer; while several less remarkable hills were designated after persons endeared to our recollections by early friendship. A great variety of new plants rewarded the exertions of our botanist, in ascending Mount Tetley; and many, hitherto only known on the coast, were discovered on the hills and in the valleys: the acacia pendula was also seen; it had hitherto been the usual characteristic of wet lands, but it was here growing on the most dry and elevated situations. The timber on the plains and hills was chiefly those species of eucalyptus called apple tree, box, and gum trees; and on the banks of the rivulet were a few large casuarina. So much time was consumed in ascending hills and examining the country, that we did not go more than ten miles on a direct course: it was however time well bestowed. Three native fires were seen in Lushington's Valley, but the whole of this part of the country appears to be very thinly inhabited; a few wandering families making up the total of its population. The small rivulet in Lushington's Valley was named Yorke's Rivulet, in honour of Sir J. S. Yorke.

August 27.—Pursuing our course to the eastward, towards the range of low hills bordering the plains in that quarter, between five and six miles, we came to a fine stream of water, crossing the plains from the south to the north. There had been a flood in this rivulet within these few days, marks of which were observed about fifteen feet high; but still within the banks. It appears that the plains are chiefly flooded from Yorke's Rivulet, the remaining waters of which, together with rain-water, were in several places still standing on the surface; but not to the extent that the horizontal level of these plains would have led me to suppose would probably be the case. The far greater portion was a rich dry soil, and that the water is never permanent on any part of them is clearly demonstrated by the total absence of any aquatic or bog plants. From this rivulet, the three main branches of these immense plains were clearly visible to the east by south-south-east, and north-east. Of the extent of the two former, we could only judge from the lofty bounding chains of hills in those quarters; and which we could not estimate to be nearer than from forty-five to fifty miles. Hardwicke's Range bounded these to the north-east, with many intervening beautiful hills and valleys. We found the distance across the plains to the hill where we stopped, to be upwards of fourteen miles on an east line. Chains and ridges of low forest hills, which gradually rise from the horizontal level, are scattered over these plains, and stand for the most part detached like islands; varying the scenery in a most picturesque manner, as they are generally clothed with wood of apple tree, cypress, and other species of eucalyptus, intermingled with various acacias in full flower. Mr. Evans ascended Mount Tetley to take bearings from it. He found the compass to be affected in a similar manner to that remarked on Loadstone Hill; the north point of it when placed on the rock, becoming the south. This remarkable alteration of the needle was also observed on several other hills in this vicinity, but in a less degree; the bearings generally varying from two to three points from the truth. On the hill under which we stopped this evening, named View Hill, the needle varied three points. In consequence of the heavy rains and recent floods, travelling on many parts of these plains was very heavy; the soil being a rick loose loam, of a dark red approaching to a black colour, but of great apparent fertility and strength: some hundreds of kangaroos and emus were seen in the course of the day. We killed several, the dogs being absolutely fatigued with slaughter: the game was by no means shy, but came close up to us, as if to examine us. Indeed I do not think they are much disturbed by natives, of whom we have seen few signs in this neighbourhood. The stream crossing the plains was named Bowen's Rivulet, in honour of Commissioner Bowen, of the Navy Board.

August 28.—The season continues to get warm and sultry. We pursued an east-north-east course during our day's journey, leading us through a fine open forest country generally level in the direction of our course, but rising into forest hills to the north and south of us. At eight miles, ascending from this level, we saw the great plains which extend along the line of our course, and are separated from us by a rich open country of hill and vale, distant four or five miles. A branch from these plains led to the north-east across our course, and was distant five or six miles. We proceeded in the whole ten miles, and stopped in a pretty forest valley, with plenty of water and good grass. The stones composing the hills were very various, sometimes different species of granite, then sandstone, and on others loose slate. On View Hill we found particularly rich iron stone. The soil was uniformly good, and covered with grass; the country by no means thickly timbered, chiefly with box, and a few cypresses.

August 29.—On our departure we almost immediately descended a rocky and steep hill, covered with cypress and small brush; from thence we descended upon a level forest country, which continued for the remainder of our journey (seven and a half miles), to the edge of the extensive flat which we had seen yesterday. As we should not have been able to cross it before nightfall, I thought it better to remain where there was plenty of grass and water. From our tent we had a singularly picturesque and pleasing prospect. To the north, Hardwicke's Range, distant between forty and fifty miles: the country broken into low forest hills and plains to its base. To the north-east, east, and south-east, our view was bounded by beautiful forest hills seldom rising to any great elevation, thinly wooded, and covered with grass. These hills bounded the plains, and varied in distance from ten to thirty miles. To the north-east the country was lowest, but appeared good and open: that part of the plain near which we encamped was wet and marshy; and the horizontal level of the whole appeared to warrant the supposition that at some (perhaps not distant) period, these vast plains formed chains of inland lakes, which the washings from the hills have now nearly filled up; as the water at present does not exceed a few inches in depth, and is only partially spread on the surface, forming but a moderate proportion of the whole. In dry seasons there is evidently none: the hills passed over this day were of a curious species of pudding-stone and freestone. The hills on the opposite side of the plains were named Melville Hills, in honour of the first Lord of the Admiralty; and the valley at the extremity of it leading to Hardwicke's Range, Barrow's Valley, after one of the secretaries of that board.

August 30.—A day of rest and refreshment to ourselves and horses. Game abounds, and our dogs abundantly supply us. The observations made here, place our situation in lat. 31. 7., long. 150. 10. E.

August 31.—We were agreeably disappointed, in finding that the wet marshy ground did not extend above three quarters of a mile, the remainder being dry firm land of the richest description: at six miles we crossed a considerable stream, running to the north through Barrow's Valley: this stream, divided the plain into nearly two equal parts, it being ten miles and a half across. This stream had been very recently flooded, and the water, yet muddy, had not subsided within its proper level; the height of the banks from fifteen to twenty feet. On the east side of the plain, we found the marsh extend about one mile and a quarter from the forest ground which borders it; though wet, it was now strong ground, and might easily be laid dry. On quitting the plains we entered a very fine open forest flat, through which we proceeded a mile and a half, and encamped for the evening under a lofty hill named Mount Dundas, by a small spring of excellent water. Ascending this mountain, we found that the country in the line of our course was high, broken forest land, the easternmost ranges of which (distant from thirty-five to forty miles) appeared to have a stream running under them, by reason of the thick haze which rose from the valley beneath. To the north bending round to the north-east, the country was beautifully picturesque, consisting of low, open forest hills, bounded by higher chains of hills that formed the southern side of the spacious valley under Hardwicke's Range; through which I no longer doubted that a considerable stream had its course, since all the waters we had hitherto crossed ran in that direction. A great many smokes, arising from the fires of the natives, were seen to the north-east and north. To the south-east, south, and south-west, our view extended over that vast tract of level champaign country intermingled with hills, sometimes rising into lofty peaks, as has already been described. The abundance of game, such as emus, and kangaroos, and of wild ducks on the stream, was wonderful: our dogs after severe battles killed two emus, who however tore one of them very dangerously. We called the river which divided and watered the plain Field's River, in honour of the Judge of the Supreme Court.

September 1.—We pursued our course to the east-north-east, winding through rich valleys bounded by lofty forest hills for seven miles; when by a gentle descent we entered a rich and spacious vale, bounded on the east by very high hills, and on the west by others less elevated. At twelve miles we stopped at some ponds near the centre of the vale. The hills were very stony, of various species—granite, freestone, and pudding-stone; they were however well covered with grass, and quite clear and open; the valleys and levels excellent, with good timber, chiefly apple tree, box, and gum. On the higher ridges of the hills, and occasionally on their sides, were many fine cypresses: there was nothing grand or imposing in the scenery; but it was simple and attractive from its richness and extent: the hills sometimes rose into singular forms which were continually changing in our progress, and appeared well calculated to afford an ample range of sheep pasture. The extensive vale in which we stopped was named Goulburn Vale, in honour of the under Secretary of State for the colonies.

September 2.—Our expectations of finding a river to the eastward, were this day verified: after passing for eleven miles across this beautiful vale, we came to a deep and rapid stream running to the north, through the valley whose eastern side it waters: finding it too deep to be forded, we constructed a bridge across a narrow part of it, by felling such large trees as would meet, by which the baggage was taken over: the horses were swum across. One of the men, foolishly attempting to swim over on a horse, nearly paid for his imprudence with his life: as he could not swim, he was carried down the stream near a quarter of a mile, and was several minutes under water. His body being providentially washed across a log, was the means of his preservation. It was late in the afternoon before our passage across was effected, so that we halted on the banks. This was the largest interior river (with the exception of the Macquarie and Castlereagh), which we had yet seen. It would be impossible to find a finer or more luxuriant country than it waters: north and south, its extent is unknown, but it is certainly not less than sixty miles, whilst the breadth of the vale is on a medium about twenty miles. This space between the bounding hills is not altogether level, but rises into gentle inequalities, and independently of the river is well watered; the grass was most luxuriant; the timber good and not thick: in short, no place in the world can afford more advantages to the industrious settler, than this extensive vale. The river was named Peel's River, in honour of the Right Hon. Robert Peel. A great many new plants were found to-day and yesterday, chiefly of the orchis tribe [Note: Orchideae of Juss. and BROWN.]: we saw numbers of the ornithorynchus, or water mole, in the river, also a few turtle: we were not successful in obtaining any fish, so that we were unable to decide whether it contained the same species as the Macquarie.

September 3.—After passing over a fine and gently rising country for between four and five miles, we ascended a very lofty chain of hills, being the eastern boundary of Goulburn Vale; these hills were of good soil, and covered with excellent grass to their very summits. Ascending two of the highest ridges, several circular orifices were observed on them about twelve feet in diameter, and five feet deep. Great quantities of small stones resembling basaltes were in heaps round the edges, at a little distance from which the stones were perpendicular, and firmly bedded in the earth; many of them regular six-sided figures, and all fractured into laminae, from two to nine inches in thickness. The rocks upon this range were of a peculiarly hard quality, and of a deep blue colour, approaching to black when broken. The country easterly appeared broken into a series of rocky detached hills: and on descending this range, we found an immediate change in the quality of the soil, being in the valleys of a light coarse sand, the surface covered with gritty particles as from pulverised coarse granite. The difference in the rocks composing the hills was here very remarkable, being a very coarse granite of the same description as in the neighbourhood of Bathurst, scattered in immense masses both in the valleys and on the hills; and our astonishment was more than once excited at the causes which could have effected their removal from their primitive bed. On a hill near which we encamped, was a single mass of granite apparently thrown up perpendicularly from the bosom of the earth: it was twenty-six feet high and had six distinct sides, ending in an irregular point at the summit, and was forty-eight feet in circumference. The valleys, though sandy, afforded us plenty of good grass and water, and the hills furnished abundant employment for the botanical collector.

September 4.—After leaving the valley in which we encamped, we entered one much more extensive, and communicating with Goulburn Vale. Between five and six miles on our route, we reached a beautiful small river coming from the eastward and joining Peel's River, of which it appears to be a principal branch. For the remainder of the day's journey, we proceeded up the fine valley which this stream watered, bounded on the north and south by lofty and fertile hills covered with rich herbage, having numerous smaller valleys and streams terminating in this principal valley. The whole scenery was thinly clothed with wood, and occasionally a bold craggy promontory terminating at the river gave it a diversity, which its general softness of feature or outline required: there were no principal ranges of hills, but they broke in and upon each other, forming the utmost variety of shape. The rocks and stones which composed the bases and summits of these hills, were not less various than their form: scarcely two were alike. Granite, coarse porphyry, freestone, and whinstone were frequently found on the same hill, and the beds of the streams were of every variety of pebble. This fine stream received the name of Cockburn River.

September 5.—Our course this day sometimes led us over very elevated ridges, and at other times through deep and rich valleys. Some of these hills were at least three thousand feet in height, and clothed with grass to their summits. Others of the less elevated were entirely free from rocks, and of the finest soil. The timber chiefly box, with some few trees of another species of eucalyptus called stringy bark, and cypress. A number of small streams watered the deep valleys to the north and south, falling into Cockburn River. Large quantities of quartz were in various places, as also good flint, which was found in large masses in the bed of Cockburn River, and also in small pieces on the hills. This was the second flint that has been discovered in New South Wales. We halted in a small and beautiful valley near Cockburn River, after having accomplished nine miles.

September 6.—A day of rest. The observations place this station in lat. 31. 04. 35 S., long. 151. 05. 30. E., variation 9. 58. E.

September 7.—The morning clear and fine. At half past seven o'clock we proceeded on our journey: in the whole course of it, we never experienced more precipitous travelling than during the first six miles. Travellers, less accustomed to meet difficulties, might perhaps have been a little alarmed at traversing such steep and shelving hills, the loose stones on which added to the insecurity of our footing. Nevertheless we found it extremely pleasant, from the romantic beauty of the scenery and the freshness of the verdure. We had been ascending an extremely elevated country for the last thirty miles; and I was in great hopes of soon reaching the point of division between the eastern and western waters. By a tolerably easy acclivity, we gained that which I took to be the highest of these congregated hills, in hopes it might possibly lead into a main range. From its summit we had a very extensive prospect over the country we had left, and also to the southward, in which direction the land appeared broken and hilly, and but thinly clothed with timber. To the east and north-east it appeared far less broken, and certainly less elevated than the ridge we were on. This ridge soon expanded to a broad surface of open forest land, and proceeding on it to the east about a mile, we perceived in the valley beneath us a considerable and rapid stream running to the north, and afterwards apparently taking a more easterly direction. A more remarkable change in the outward appearance of a country was perhaps never before witnessed. In less than a mile, the timber had entirely changed from the bastard box to another kind of eucalyptus, called common blue gum, which grew in great luxuriance in the country before us. Until now this species had never been seen except on the immediate banks of running streams. In the course of the day, great quantities of fine stringy bark were also seen. The soil, instead of the light black mould, which had been the general covering of the country, was now changed to a stiff tenacious clay; and although well clothed with grass, its less luxuriant growth evidently showed the difference of soil not to be favourable. From this hill or range we descended very gradually for nearly two miles to the river before seen, and up the banks of which we proceeded about a mile farther, when we halted for the evening. The country was perfectly open, though much covered with fallen timber; the banks of the river sloping and quite clear of timber; and being within one hundred miles of the sea coast, I had a strong belief that we had descended from the highest land, and that we should meet with no dividing ranges in the course of our future progress. It is impossible to form any certain conclusion at present, as to the course taken by this stream. Whether it finds its way to the coast, or is lost like the other streams of this country, will, I think, in a great measure depend upon the fact of our having crossed the highest ranges of the country. One of the men who had taken the dogs out after kangaroos fell in with a party of natives, among whom were some women and children. Two of the men accompanied him to the tent. It was evident from the whole tenor of their behaviour that they had previously heard of white people (most probably from the settlement at New Castle); their appearance was most miserable, their features approached deformity, and their persons were disgustingly filthy: their small attenuated limbs seemed scarcely able to support their bodies; and their entire person formed a marked contrast to the fine and manly figures of their brethren in the interior. We gave them a small turtle which we had just caught in the river, and they sat down to dress it instantly. In fact, their cooking was very simple; the fire soon separated the shell from the meat, which with the entrails was devoured in a few minutes. Some of the people went to visit their camp, where they found eight or ten men, but the women and children were sent away. The same jealousy of women exists throughout the interior. The great number of fallen trees was in some measure accounted for by the men observing about a dozen trees on fire near this camp, no doubt the more easily to expel the opossums, rats, and other vermin which inhabit their hollows. We were not successful with our lines, though the depth and breadth of the river had made us a little sanguine. There did not appear any great marks of flood; none was seen exceeding five feet in height, which led us to conclude its source was not very distant. This river was named Sydney, as we this day crossed the meridian of that town.

September 8.—We proceeded up Sydney River to the south-east about three miles before we could find a convenient Place to Cross, as the stream ran with great rapidity over a rocky bottom. The country on either side sloped to the river with gradual declension, and was an open forest country. On crossing the river, we passed through some noble forests of stringy bark, growing generally on the sides and ridges of stony barren hills: thew forests extended above two miles from the east of the river., after which the country became perfectly open, and of a level, or rather alternately rising surface. To the north and north-east the river was beautiful, the same description of country extending as far as the eye could reach, with no elevated points or ridges to obstruct it. Indeed I am clearly of opinion, that if we had kept a more northerly course from Lushington Valley, we should have avoided the rugged though fine country we have passed through for the last two days. The determination of all the hills and slopes is northerly, and the rivers which we have crossed have also taken the same direction. We proceeded about nine miles farther through the finest open country, or rather park, imaginable; the general quality of the soil excellent, though of a strong and more tenacious description than farther westerly. We halted in a fine and spacious valley, where art, so far as it is an auxiliary of beauty, would have been detrimental to the fresher and simpler garb of nature. This valley was watered by a fine brook, and at a a distance of a mile we saw several fires, at which appeared many natives: upon discovering us, however, they immediately departed. I think that the most fastidious sportsman would have derived ample amusement during our days journey. He might without moving have seen the finest coursing, from the commencement of the chase to the death of the game: and when tired of killing kangaroos, he might have seen emus hunted with equal success. We numbered swans and ducks among our acquisitions, which in truth were caught without much exertion on our part, or deviating, in the least from our course. Granite and a hard whinstone were the most predominant among the stones; small pieces of quartz, and loose rotten slates covered the tracks, on which grew some of the finest stringy bark trees I ever saw. Indeed the other timber, which consisted chiefly of common blue gum, was far larger than usually seen on forest lands. That species of casuarina called the beef wood (or she oak), was also seen to-day for the first time: it is in part a coast tree, and sufficiently denoted that we were approaching the sea. Observed the variation of the compass to be 8. 51. E.

September 9.—In the night we had a severe frost, which in the morning was succeeded by a dense fog. We found however that it was confined to the valley, for on ascending the hills, the prospect was clear and open. We passed over a beautiful and well-watered country for about six miles, when we came on the rivulet which we had quitted in the morning; but now, by the addition of several brooks from the valleys, increased to a considerable stream. Its banks were quite clear of timber, and expanded into extensive sheets of water, which added greatly to the beauty of the scenery. This stream running to the east southeast verified the conjecture that we had passed the dividing range of hills, and that this and most probably Sydney River (much superior in magnitude) were coast streams. Crossing the former, we ascended a hill on the opposite side, from whence the river's course was seen to the south-east, running through a fine and open country. To the northward and north-east the prospect was equally satisfactory, the hills being connected by long and easy slopes, which would have rendered their ascent a matter of little difficulty had our course lain over them. After crossing the river, the country still continued open, but the soil was not so good, and we found that we were ascending in a gradual manner. For the last five miles the country was thickly timbered with stringy bark and gum trees, the soil bad, and crossed by numerous wet hollows, which showed we were nearly on the summit of a level and extensive range of hills. We accomplished fourteen miles with much ease, and halted for the evening in a thick stringy bark forest, where there was worse entertainment for both man and horse than we had experienced for some weeks.

September 10.—A tempestuous morning, with occasional showers of small rain, prevented us from quitting our camp. In the intervals of fair weather, I walked to a hill about one mile off, being the highest part of the range we were upon. Our prospect from it was exceedingly grand and picturesque. The country from north to south-east was broken into perpendicular rocky ridges, and divided longitudinally by deep and apparently impassable glens. The rocks were covered with climbing plants, and the glens abounded with new and beautiful ones. Our collector descended one of those nearest to us, and was amply repaid by the acquisition of nearly sixty most desirable plants, some of which appeared even to constitute new genera. The rocks were covered with epidendra [Note: Of the genera cymbidium and dendrobium of Swartz.], bignoniae, or trumpet-flowers, and clematides, or virgin's bower, of which last genus three species apparently new were discovered. Far different was the character of these glens from the rugged and barren blue mountain ranges: fine open forest land ended abruptly on the precipices. The bottoms were of the richest soil, the rocks instead of being of a coarse sandstone were of a hard texture, and of a blue shining appearance when broken. The country eastward of these glens appeared very lofty, and much broken; but as in the direction of our course, we should have some miles of good open country to travel over, we had strong hopes that our difficulties would prove greater in contemplation than reality. Among the timber in these glens were some of the stateliest stringy bark trees that we had ever beheld: in fact, the timber altogether is unusually good. To the south-west and north-west, the country is low and beautifully diversified by long sloping hills.

September 11.—Our course for near eight miles led us along a broad and very elevated ridge of poor forest land, intermixed with brush; when we were stopped from proceeding farther eastward by the deep chasm or glen, which we had seen at a distance yesterday. This tremendous ravine runs near north and south, its breadth at the bottom does not apparently exceed one hundred or two hundred feet, whilst the separation of the outer edges is from two to three miles. I am certain that in perpendicular depth it exceeds three thousand feet. The slopes from the edges were so steep and covered with loose stones, that any attempt to descend even on foot was impracticable. From either side of this abyss, smaller ravines of similar character diverged, the distance between which seldom exceeded half a mile. Down them trickled rills of water, derived from the range on which we were. We could not however discern which way the water in the main valley ran, as the bottom was concealed by a thicket of vines and creeping plants. From the range on which we were, we could distinctly see the coast line of hills. The country between us and the coast was of an equal elevation, and appeared broken and divided by ravines and steep precipices. We continued along the edge of this ravine southerly for about four miles, when we halted for the day. Our only hope of being enabled to cross this barrier depends upon our pursuing a southerly course, when if the waters run northerly, the dividing range between them and Hunters River will permit us again to turn easterly. If on the contrary they run southerly, their junction with Hunter's River will equally (it is to be hoped) facilitate that object.

September 12.—We were obliged during the whole of this day's journey, to keep along the ridge bordering on the glen. It is impossible to form a correct idea of the wild magnificence of the scenery without the pencil of a Salvator. Such a painter would here find an ample field for the exercise of his genius. How dreadful must the convulsion have been that formed these glens! The principal glen led us to the westward: there were others that fell into it from the southward; but we perceived that the waters in it ran north-easterly, which gave us strong hopes of soon being enabled to head it. Several times in the course of the day we attempted to descend on foot; but after getting with much difficulty a few hundred yards, we were always stopped by perpendicular precipices. Scarcely a quarter of a mile elapsed without a spring from the top of the ridge crossing our track, forming at its entrance into the main glen a vast ravine. The ridge along which we travelled was, as might be expected, very stony. It was otherwise open forest land, thickly timbered with large, stringy bark trees, casuarinae, and a large species of eucalyptus. Kangaroos abounded on it, and the tracks of emus were also seen.

September 13.—We were too anxious to find a passage across this river (for such we now perceived it to be), to permit us to rest this day. We proceeded on a variety of courses to avoid the deep ravines or glens which conducted numerous small streams of water to the principal one. Our road was very rugged, and our elevation sometimes very considerable, every part heavily timbered. Our course, which led us chiefly west, now terminated at one of the most magnificent waterfalls we had ever seen. The water was precipitated over a perpendicular rock at least one hundred and fifty feet in height in one unbroken sheet, falling into a large reservoir about one third down the whole declivity: hence it wound its way through the glen for about half a mile farther, when it joined the main stream. This grand fall was called Beckett's Cataract, in honour of the Judge Advocate General. It now commenced raining so heavily that we were obliged to stop on the spot, though by no means an eligible situation. We had not seen any place where there had been the slightest possibility of descending; but as we were not many miles from the river which we crossed on Wednesday last, we knew that this rugged country must soon end.

September 14.—The weather preventing us from proceeding, parties were sent out to search the banks of the glen, for a place by which to descend and cross it. Two of the people traced it up so far as to ascertain that the river which we had crossed on Wednesday was the same which had so embarrassed us. It entered the glen in a fall of vast height: above, there was no difficulty in crossing it, the country being clear and open, and of moderate height. A kangaroo was chased to this fall, down which he leapt and was dashed to pieces; like the hero of Wordsworth's "Hartleap Well." It is wonderful that the dogs escaped the same fate. We had been also successful in finding a passage nearer to the tent. About a mile above Beckett's Cataract, a pass was discovered by which we might descend, and the opposite side appeared equally favourable. It appears that we have been hitherto deceived respecting the magnitude of the river which runs through the glen, owing to the vast height from which it was viewed, and to our being seldom within a mile of it. The geologist would here have a most interesting field for research, and would doubtless be enabled to account for those natural phenomena, which, from their defiance of all rule, perplex us so greatly. These mountains abound with coal and slate. The dip of the rocks on this side (the north) of the glen, is about twenty degrees to the west.

September 15.—We first attempted the pass nearest to us, and which was reported to be practicable. The horses with tolerable ease descended the first ridge, which was about one third down; but it was impossible to proceed a step farther with them: indeed we had the utmost difficulty to get them back again. Three of them actually rolled over, and were saved only by the trees from being precipitated to the bottom. Quitting this place, we proceeded up the glen, into which many small streams fell from the most awful heights, forming so many beautiful cascades. After travelling five or six miles, we arrived at that part of the river at which, after passing through a beautiful and level though elevated country, it is first received into the glen. We had seen many fine and magnificent falls, each of which had excited our admiration in no small degree, but the present one so far surpassed any thing which we had previously conceived even to be possible, that we were lost in astonishment at the sight of this wonderful natural sublimity, which perhaps is scarcely to be exceeded in any part of the eastern world. The river, after passing through an apparently gentle rising and fine country, is here divided into two streams, the whole width of which is about seventy yards. At this spot, the country seems cleft in twain, and divided to its very foundation: a ledge of rocks, two or three feet higher than the level on either side, divides the waters in two, which, falling over a perpendicular rock two hundred and thirty-five feet in height, forms this grand cascade. At a distance of three hundred yards, and an elevation of as many feet, we were wetted with the spray which arose like small rain from the bottom: the noise was deafening; and if the river had been full, so as to cover its entire bed, it would have been perhaps more awfully grand, but certainly not so beautiful. After winding through the cleft rocks about four hundred yards, it again falls in one single sheet upwards of one hundred feet, and continues in a succession of smaller falls about a quarter of a mile lower, where the cliffs are of a perpendicular height, on each side exceeding one thousand two hundred feet, the width at the edges about two hundred yards. From thence it descends as before described until all sight of it is lost, from the vast elevation of the rocky hills which it divides and runs through. The different points of this deep glen seem as if they would fit into the opposite fissures which form the smaller glens alternately on either side. The whole is indeed a grand natural spectacle, and is an indubitable mark of the vast convulsions which this country must at one period have undergone. The rocks are all slate, the upper romanae of which are of a light brown colour, rotten, and easily separated. Nearer the base or surface of the water they are of a dark blue, and of a firmer texture. The waters are quite discoloured, owing to the nature of the bed over which they run, the soluble particles of coal among the slate tinging them a dark brown. This fine fall is not more than five miles below the place where we crossed the river on the 9th instant, and we were doubtless prevented from hearing the noise of the waters, by the numerous smaller falls in the vicinity. This most magnificent fall and the river itself were respectively named Bathurst and Apsley, in honour of the Noble Secretary of State for the colonies. Although a week had elapsed in effecting the passage of this river, we could not consider it as entirely lost, especially as it enabled us to ascertain that its direction was to the coast; and we hoped that the nature of the country would permit us to fix its embouchure.

September 16.—The weather for some days past has been very unseasonable, cold and tempestuous, with frequent heavy and continued showers of rain: this remarkable coldness of temperature in such a latitude (31 degrees,) I cannot but attribute to the considerable elevation of the country above the sea, being certainly between four and five thousand feet. We proceeded to the south-east during this day's journey, on purpose to avoid the broken land in the vicinity of the river. It was good travelling though hilly: the soil, for the most part, a poor clay; and the timber not so good or large as usual. There was however much good land, particularly in the valleys, through every one of which a stream of water took its course to the river. At twelve miles, we halted on the banks of a considerable and rapid stream watering an extensive and wide valley. The many waters which fall into Apsley River must very considerably increase its magnitude; and I am in hopes after it has cleared this mountainous tract and we again fall in with it, that we shall find it a useful as well as fine stream. The river on which we encamped was named Croker's River, in honour of the First Secretary of the Admiralty.

September 17.—We proceeded on an easterly course during this day's journey; and seven miles from Croker's River crossed a smaller stream running to the north-east. For the first ten miles the country was very poor and badly timbered, with barren stony hills; but from the last mentioned stream to our halting-place, at the end of twelve miles, though the land was hilly the soil was excellent, consisting of a rich, dark mould. The hills were particularly rich and thickly clothed with fine timber, blue gum, and stringy bark. We halted on the side of a hill, from the top of which we could see a great distance to the north and east. In the first quarter, lofty hills were seen from eighty to one hundred miles off, and generally very irregular. To the east the land was elevated, but more divided by sloping valleys, and we augured that at least for thirty miles in the direction of our course, we should not meet with any such serious obstruction as the last: indeed we imagined we could trace the course of the river nearly on a parallel line with us. We this day saw a solitary native, but I believe we were indebted for the sight rather to the circumstance of his being deprived of the use of his limbs than to his boldness or curiosity. Two or three families had been encamped on the spot where we found him, but they had all departed. He seemed more astonished than alarmed at the sight of our cavalcade, and expressed his wonder in a singular succession of sounds, resembling snatches of a song. His countenance was mild and pleasing, and was entirely divested of the ferocity we had seen expressed in the visages of some of his countrymen: he had lost the upper front tooth, and I think it was probable that he had heard of such beings as ourselves before. He was a miserable object: several ribs on his left side had been broken; his back was twisted, which apparently had been the means of depriving him of the use of his limbs, as no injury could be discovered about them.

September 18.—During the night and this morning it has continued to blow a perfect equinoctial storm. We were in constant dread that some of the branches of the trees which surrounded us would fall on the tent. Proceeding on our course to the east-north-east, we did not advance above a mile and a half before a small stream running to the north-east through a very steep and narrow valley obliged us to alter our course more southerly, which we did, and soon entered a forest of stringy bark and blue gum trees of immense size and great beauty. The soil on which they grew was a rich vegetable mould covered with fern trees [Note: Alsophila australis of Brown.] and small shrubs. We found that this part of the country was intersected by deep valleys, the sides of which were clothed with stately trees, but of what kind we were ignorant: creepers and smaller timber trees, all of species not previously noticed by us, grew so extremely thick that we found it impossible to penetrate through them. We therefore continued along the edge of those valleys, our progress much impeded by the vast trunks of fallen trees in a state of decay, some of which were upwards of one hundred and fifty feet long, without a branch, as straight as an arrow, and from three to eight and ten feet in diameter. The forest through which we travelled appeared to be an elevated level or plain, and at three o'clock in the afternoon, after proceeding three or four miles to the westward, we cleared this truly primeval forest, and descended into a small valley of open ground, through which ran the stream we had crossed in the morning. Indeed we were not more than two miles south of the place we had quitted. Our hope of proceeding without much interruption was thus disappointed: the gloominess of the weather, and the constant showers that fell, so impeded our view and distorted its objects, that what appeared plain and practicable at a distance of two or three miles, when approached was found impassable. I think it probable, however, that our most serious obstructions will be the thickness of the timber, rotten trees, and creeping plants; the soil is so rich and free from rocks, that I do not think the steepness of the descents will greatly endanger us. The wind, which had been extremely violent all day, was now accompanied by heavy showers; and we thought ourselves extremely fortunate in not being obliged to encamp in the forest. The storm as the evening advanced increased to almost a hurricane, with torrents of rain. Since Apsley River had been ascertained to take a direction coast-wise, the principle which governed the direction of our course had been to endeavour to make a port on the coast laid down in lat. 30. 45. S., and which I had an idea might probably receive this river, now increased by a multitude of smaller streams, and if so, that it might serve as a point of communication with the fine country in the interior. It is true this port is marked as a bar harbour; but I knew that it had never been examined, and I was aware how possible it was for a harbour to appear closed by a reef from a ship sailing at a distance along the coast. At all events the point was worth ascertaining; and notwithstanding the repeated disappointments we had experienced in attempting a north-easterly course, I shall, if we are enabled to clear the deep valleys we are at present embarrassed with, persevere for some time longer. I consider it every way important to know into what part of the coast these waters are discharged.