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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feet. Inches. Length from the nose to the tail 3 5 Circumference round the shoulders 2 6 Fin to fin over the back 1 5 Circumference near the anus 1 9 Breadth of the tail 1 1 1/2 Circumference of the mouth opened 1 6 Depth of the swallow 1 foot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This arranged, we commenced our journey on a true S.W. course by compass towards Cape Northumberland,[*] Mr. Evans taking the lead, accompanied by two persons, the one having the perambulator, and the other marking the trees with an adze as a guide to our pack-horse leaders. The horses groaned beneath the weight of their loads, which was not less than 300 lbs. weight each. Having passed the heads of some lagoons the country becomes exceeding brushy, and assumes a greyish gloominess in consequence of the great numbers of Acacia pendula and Rhagodia dilatata, which are the two predominant shrubs. The soil is a loose red earth, with a large proportion of sand. About 3 o'clock we had made good about 10 miles on the given course when we stopped at a gully containing stagnant, white, muddy water.

The plants are the same as those already noticed and made mention of. Eucalyptus micrantha (Bastard Box) was more frequent. The Cypress grows occasionally in large clumps about 40 ft. high. I gathered duplicate seeds of Acacia Pendula.

Our journey was unavoidably lengthened in hopes of finding water; we had travelled 12 miles and found none or the appearance of any! We managed 2 miles farther and encamped among some burnt grass which had been fired by natives. Having pitched the tents and unladen our poor horses, who felt the privation infinitely more than ourselves, we sent our people in several directions in quest of water, when, after a diligent search, some was discovered about half a mile westerly of our tents, where the natives had encamped some time since, their bark huts being still in existence. It is a great relief to the eye to observe a deviation, however slight, from the dull gloomy sameness--the want of diversity in the timber of Western Australia.[*] At the base of the range of hills at Mount Maud some tolerably fair specimens of the western iron bark (Eucalyptus sideroxylon) were noticed, being easily distinguished from its congeners by its extremely rugged, furrowed, bark, containing like others of the Eucalypti a strong astringent styptic gum. [* Cunningham's name for the country west of the Blue Mountains.]

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

At nine miles a burnt grass tract induced us to halt and look for water, of the existence of which we had some hopes, from the circumstance of having seen recent foot impressions of natives, and a swan having flown over us led us to conclude that water is not far distant. Mr. Evans, who had gone forward two miles beyond this place, returned to us, having found some stagnant water holes. After a diligent search we discovered some fine clear water in a lagoon or swamp about 5 miles to the westward of our tent. One of our people came near to a native who was of a very strong athletic habit, he however escaped. One of their spears was likewise found.

The Western Iron Bark and Cupressus glauca are the timbers of the stony ascent. I here gathered specimens of a species of Daviesia with linear rounded leaves, which are spinescent, the flowers are axillary and bracteated. I likewise procured the following specimens:--Leptospermum sp., forming a slender spreading shrub 6-8 feet high, the flowers are in pairs and axillary. Eucalyptus acmenioides, shrub about 12 feet high, allied to E. saligna. Eucalyptus dumosa, leaves alternate, ovate-lanceolate, fruit rough. This plant forms the principal shrub in a tract of confined brushy scrub. Melaleuca sp., allied to M. uncinata. And a shrub of the class Syngenesia, a species of Cacalia, a slender, twiggy shrub.

We saw some fine specimens of a tree which our people termed Snakewood; it is not in flower, but has a small fimbriated capsule and its bark is rough and scaly. Descending through a thick brushwood we came to a water channel (now dry), but which from the recent appearance of water here we concluded some might be discovered in the bottom to which the water course leads. Having travelled nearly 10 miles we halted in this descent for the night. Our people found some holes of excellent standing water about half a mile westerly of us to the no small joy of the whole of us. Recent marks of natives on the trees. Kangaroo were likewise observed at a distance. Much water has an outlet to the lower parts of the country by this channel which is evident from the marks of flood and the deep excavations formed (now dry) and no rain of any consequence has fallen for a considerable period. Day continued fine, sultry, and the night clear. On the brush or small timber the parasitical Loranthi are common.

This tract of country is covered with several Eucalypti, and Callitris glauca. The Brushes (Eucalyptus dumosa) are overrun with the Cassytha, whose filiform stems had so matted together as to render a passage very difficult. I gathered seeds of the large blue-flowered shrubby Aster, and also of the two species of Melaleuca above mentioned. To my surprise I found a few plants of Goodia lotifolia hitherto only known to be indigenous in Van Diemen's Island. The country is now one continued level. On our way back to the tent, which we did not reach till after dusk, we passed some small holes of water, near which we disturbed a large emu and two young kangaroo, which were feeding upon the trifling herbage which the sterility of the country can only produce in small patches.

Entering again a thick and intricate brush, matted strongly with Cassytha, I detected the following plants:--Aster aculeatus of the East coast, and some other syngenesious plants abound. I gathered seeds of a Rhagodia, a low depressed shrub, with rough seeds; and Westringia triphylla, a stiff shrubby plant with angular stem and ternate leaves.

Advancing near the base of the Mount before us the Grevillea allied to G. sphacelata observed on all rocky hills since 28th April last, again presents itself. Approaching its ragged rocky foot we found some water in small portions, in the excavations formed by the rapidity of the waters descending from the Mount during the rainy seasons, and there being some good grass for our horses we determined to encamp under the hill. Round its base and on the lower lands the print of the feet of natives (of children as well as of adults) were very visible. They had passed over it when the soil had been softened by rain, and some of the impressions were of ankle depth.

We had travelled 11 miles, and our horses were much fatigued, more particularly while passing the last Cassythian brush, where some of the lighter laden horses had their burdens pulled from their saddles by the strength of the plants. Mr. Oxley, Mr. Evans and myself ascended this hill on the western side (which is highest and steepest), from whose summit we had a very extensive view of the whole country around us. Mr. Oxley took several bearings to the southward and westward of this Mount. A lofty range of hills bearing about N.N.W., about 60-70 miles distant, he has called Mount Granard. A range commencing at N.W. northerly, and terminating at about W.N.W. has been termed Goulburn's Range, in honour of J. Goulburn Esq., of the Colonial Office. A long range of hills commencing at W.N.W. and ending at S.W. by S., distant about 25 miles, Mr. Oxley has named Peel's Range, in order to commemorate the name of the Secretary of State for Ireland. Some hills lying behind one, and from the point of view bearing southerly about 5 miles, are called Jones's Hills, after a merchant at Sydney. At my suggestion Mr. Oxley has named the commanding eminence Mount Aiton, in honour of W. T. Aiton, Esqre. at Kew, author of the Hortus Kewensis, whose extensive knowledge in botany and horticulture is well-known in the botanical world and needs no comments here.

The lower flats of Mount Aiton have been fired by the natives, but the upper range is covered with a great profusion of valuable and interesting plants, many of which I have seen before, such as the Aster, whose beautiful radiated blue flowers have decorated our dreary path more or less since we left the boats. Grevillea spacelata, at its summit; Tecoma Oxleyii is rare on the western face of this mount. I, however, detected the following new plants Correa sp., a shrub 4 ft. high; leaves ovate, obtuse, lanigerous beneath; flowers terminal and solitary; corolla campanulate and green.

Prostanthera atriplicinifolia, a shrub strongly scented with turpentine. Callitris sp., a small tree 25 feet high. The perpendicular height of Mt. Aiton is presumed to be 250 feet, composed of an indurated sandstone. To the northward we observed the smoke from several native fires, and the country to the south and westward appears more open and less bushy. The numerous tracks of emu and kangaroo suggested to us that this eminence is frequented by these animals in search of water.

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

Exocarpus cupressiformis is a fine shrub on the rocks here. A species of snake, chequered on the back like the common diamond snake of New South Wales, but shorter and of a lighter brown colour, is by no means infrequent in Western Australia on rocky hills. I killed a fine large specimen lying in a dormant state on this mount. Two of our people who had been out 12 hours returned with two of the horses and reported to us that the other three men, who had been sent by Mr. Oxley in another direction, had fallen in with their tracks and were tracing them back to our last encampment. Our dogs were on the alert throughout the night. Some natives who had heard us from their encampment westerly of us, induced by curiosity, had come in a circuitous route to the lower range of rocks under the Mount in order to observe our motions. Some of the people could hear them distinctly in conversation.

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

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

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

Leaving the richer patches of good grassy land immediately around Mount Aiton, the country again assumes a sterile and dreary aspect, covered with small timbers of Eucalyptus micrantha and small cypress. Onward about two miles we passed a small rising mount, near which is a water hole, now perfectly dry. From the remains of a fire and grass burnt near the base of a cypress tree, and from the fresh impression of human feet, it is clear that natives had not left it two days. The country S.W. again becomes brushy, producing plants of which frequent mention is made. Hakea sp., allied to A. rugosa, is observed here--a small tree 20 feet high. Jasminum sp.; Stenochilis longifolius; Bursaria spinosa are all common plants of these wastes. Crossing some lone rocky elevated spots, covered with fragments of a red granite. Mount Aiton bore N.E. 6 miles. Descending on some woody grassy lands of considerable extent, Jones's Hills appeared in sight, of which Mr. Evans took bearings. Some old venerable Sterculiae of considerable magnitude appear near this open situation.

At 9½ miles we entered a very thick brush, which from the glaucous hue of Eucalyptus dumosa, the usual and principal shrub of this miserable tract, has the appearance of extensive plains from a distant view. We had already performed the usual daily number of miles, which upon the average we generally found prudent not to exceed, but we were led on under the impression that the brush was not of any extent and that possibly we might fall in with water and grass for our horses in the range of a mile or two further on our course. Continuing through this thicket which we named Euryalean Scrub (after one of the Gorgons), we found it grow thicker and exceedingly difficult for our horses, so much so that a man led the way and cut an opening for them. The whole is strongly matted together with Cassytha and other climbing plants. At sunset we had travelled 19½ miles but were not clear of this scrub when we arrived at a small open space, where we were obliged to halt for the night, although no water could be found for our horses or ourselves.

Dismal as the brush was to all of us it nevertheless afforded me some new plants, which recompensed me at least for the severity of the march through it. They are as follows:-- Pimelea diosmaefolia, a delicate shrub. Grevillea acicularis, nova sp., a dwarf dense pungent shrub: Leucopogon sp., (Epacridae). Viola sp. Dodonaea sp., a very small flowering shrub. Daviesia microphylla, a small shrubby rigid plant. Bossiaea sp., distinct from B. scolopendria in the size of its flower and fimbriation of its calyx and bracteae. Callitris verrucosa, a slender tree 10-20 feet high. Acacia conferta, leaves broad, ovate and carinate, capitulum of flowers axillary and crowded; forming a large dense bush. A spinescens with the habit of Daviesia in having spiny branches. Among the combination of plants annoying us in this brush were a prickly Daviesia, observed near Mount Maud, and a strong prickly grass (not in flower) growing in large tufts about three feet high, and with the habit of Astragalus tragacantha. We had taken the precaution to carry some dirty water with us from Mount Aiton, which we served out at one pint per man.