er
in it. But small shells lay in heaps in its bed, or were abundantly
scattered over it; and we remarked that they differed from those on the
plains of the Macquarie. A circumstance that surprised us much, was the
re-appearance of the flooded-gum upon its banks, and that too of a large
size. We had not seen any to the westward of the marshes, and we were,
consequently, led to indulge in more sanguine expectation as to our
ultimate success than we had ever ventured to do before.

The party crossed to the right bank of the creek, and then moved in a
westerly direction along it in search of water. A brush extended to our
right, and some broken stony ground, rather elevated, was visible, to
which Mr. Hume rode; nor did he join me again until after I had halted the
party for the night.

DISTRESSED FOR WATER.

My search for water had been unsuccessful, and the sun had set, when I
came upon a broad part of the creek that appeared very favourable for an
encampment, as it was encompassed by high banks, and would afford the men
a greater facility of watching the cattle, that I knew would stray away if
they could.

My anxiety for them led me to wander down the bed of the creek, when, to
my joy, I found a pond of water within a hundred yards of the tents. It is
impossible for me to describe the relief I felt at this success, or the
gladness it spread among the men. Mr. Hume joined me at dusk, and informed
me that he had made a circuit, and had struck upon the creek about three
miles below us but that, in tracing it up, he had not found a drop of
water until he came to the pond near which we had so providentially
encamped. On the following morning, we held a westerly course over an open
country for about eight miles and a half. The prevailing timber appeared
to be a species of eucalypti, with rough bark, of small size, and
evidently languishing from the want of moisture. The soil over which we
travelled was far from bad, but there was a total absence of water upon
it. At 6 p.m. Oxley's Table Land was distant from us about fifteen miles,
bearing S. 20 E. by compass.

We had not touched upon the creek from the time we left it in the morning,
having wandered from it in a northerly direction, along a native path that
we intersected, and that seemed to have been recently trodden, since
footsteps were fresh upon it. At sunset, we crossed a broad dry creek that
puzzled us extremely, and were shortly afterwards obliged to stop for the