that promised to reward all our exertions, and which appeared every moment
to increase in importance to our imagination. Coming from the N.E., and
flowing to the S.W., it had a capacity of channel that proved that we were
as far from its source as from its termination. The paths of the natives
on either side of it were like well trodden roads; and the trees that
overhung it were of beautiful and gigantic growth.

DISAPPOINTMENT ON FINDING THE RIVER SALT.

Its banks were too precipitous to allow of our watering the cattle, but
the men eagerly descended to quench their thirst, which a powerful sun had
contributed to increase; nor shall I ever forget the cry of amazement that
followed their doing so, or the looks of terror and disappointment with
which they called out to inform me that the water was so salt as to be
unfit to drink! This was, indeed, too true: on tasting it, I found it
extremely nauseous, and strongly impregnated with salt, being apparently
a mixture of sea and fresh water. Whence this arose, whether from local
causes, or from a communication with some inland sea, I knew not, but the
discovery was certainly a blow for which I was not prepared. Our hopes
were annihilated at the moment of their apparent realization. The cup of
joy was dashed out of our hands before we had time to raise it to our
lips. Notwithstanding this disappointment, we proceeded down the river,
and halted at about five miles, being influenced by the goodness of the
feed to provide for the cattle as well as circumstances would permit. They
would not drink of the river water, but stood covered in it for many
hours, having their noses alone exposed above the stream. Their condition
gave me great uneasiness. It was evident they could not long hold out
under their excessive thirst, and unless we should procure some fresh
water, it would impossible for us to continue our journey. On a closer
examination, the river appeared to me much below its ordinary level, and
its current was scarcely perceptible. We placed sticks to ascertain if
there was a rise or fall of tide, but could arrive at no satisfactory
conclusion, although there was undoubtedly a current in it. Yet, as I
stood upon its banks at sunset, when not a breath of air existed to break
the stillness of the waters below me, and saw their surface kept in
constant agitation by the leaping of fish, I doubted whether the river
could supply itself so abundantly, and the rather imagined, that i