months. Under the existing
circumstances, I considered it my duty not to lead the party into a
position from which it would most probably be impracticable to extricate
ourselves without at least losing some of our horses; and even
difficulties of a more serious nature might arise, which would prevent
the more complete examination of the imperfectly known country to the
southward of our present position, more especially as a successful
advance to the northward seemed impossible.

5th October.

Left the encampment at 8.10 a.m.; steered north 135 degrees east magnetic
over sandy country, covered with coarse scrub; at noon passed a narrow
strip of wooded grassy land, the soil being limestone and red loam. The
country again became scrubby, and, descending an open valley, came on a
small watercourse at 1.5 p.m., trending south; followed it
south-south-west. At 2.15 passed our bivouac of the 29th September, and
turning south-west along the stream-bed, at 4.0 came on the right bank of
the Murchison River, running through wide grassy flats, the stream
forming large pools, some of them more than a mile in length; but, with
the exception of the flats on each side of the bank, the country is poor
and scrubby, destitute of trees, and the hills high and rocky, consisting
of red sandstone, those to the west capped with limestone.

6th October.

The horses being much fatigued and nearly starved, having subsisted
chiefly on scrub for the last two days, we determined to rest them for a
few days, while we examined the river towards its mouth. I started with
Mr. Bedart, and tracing the stream downwards to the south-west, reached
the sea after a ride of six hours. Excepting the flats and a narrow strip
of land on each side, the country was very indifferent, the hills being
composed of sandstone and sand, covered with coarse scrub and a gigantic
species of grass, the leaves of which, instead of affording food for
stock, were a source of great annoyance to our horses, being armed with
sharp thorny points, and was somewhat appropriately called bayonet grass
by the party. The tide flows about five miles up the river, when it is
obstructed by some slight rapids; although it seems shallow, and full of
rocks and islands, I think it is navigable for small boats. Above the
rapids the river is a succession of long reaches of water about 100 yards
wide, and wide flats covered with reeds, the roots of which seem to form
an important article of foo