by the fossil formation, as by a natural inclosure--sometimes it rises perpendicularly from the flats, but more generally assumes the character of sloping hills. The cliffs occasionally extend, like a wall, along the river for two or three miles, and look exceedingly well; but their constant recurrence, at length fatigues the eye. At the point at which we had now arrived this remarkable formation ceases, or, as we are going up the river, I should perhaps be more correct if I said, begins. Above it a long line of hills, broken by deep and rugged stony gullies, and with steep sides, extends to the eastward (that also being the upward course of the river). On gaining the crest of these hills we found ourselves, as usual, on a flat table land, notwithstanding the broken faces of the hills themselves. There was only a narrow space between them, and a low thick brush of eucalyptus to the north. The soil was, as usual, a mixture of clay and sand, with small rounded nodules of limestone. From this ground, the view to the south as a medium point, was over as dark and monotonous a country as could well be described. There was not a single break in its sombre hue, nor was there the slightest rise on the visible horizon; both to the eastward and westward we caught glimpses of the Murray glittering amidst the dark foliage beneath us, but it made no change in the character of the landscape.
We kept on the open ground, just cutting the heads of the gullies, and advanced eight miles before we found a convenient spot at which to drive the cattle down to water, and feed in the flats below, and into which it appeared impracticable to get our drays. I halted, therefore, on the crest of the hills, and sent Flood and three other men to watch the animals, and to head them back if they attempted to wander. In the afternoon we went down to the river, and on crossing the flat came upon the dray tracks of some overland party, the leader of which had taken his drays down the hills, notwithstanding the apparent difficulty of the attempt. But what is there of daring or enterprise that these bold and high-spirited adventurers will shrink from?
I had hoped that the more elevated ground we here occupied, would have been warmer than the flats on which we had hitherto pitched our tents, but in this I was disappointed. The night was just as cold as if we had been in the valley of the Murray. At sunrise the thermometer stood at 27 degrees, and we had thick ice in our pails.
At five miles from this place, having left the river about a mile to our right, we arrived at the termination of this line of hills. They gradually fell away to the eastward and disappeared; nor does the fossil formation extend higher up the Murray. It here commences or terminates, as the traveller is proceeding up or down the stream. A meridian altitude on the hill just before we descended, placed it in lat. 34 degrees 9 minutes 56 seconds, so that we had still been going gradually to the south. At the termination of the hills, the Murray forms an angle in turning sharp round to that point, and after an extensive sweep comes up again, so as to form an opposite angle; the distance between the two being 14 or 15 miles, and from the ground on which we stood the head of Lake Bonney bore E. 5 degrees S., distant six miles.
On descending from these hills we fell into the overland road, but were soon turned from it by reason of the floods, and obliged to travel along a sandy ridge, forming the left bank of a lagoon, running parallel to the river, into which the waters were fast flowing; but finding a favourable place to cross, at a mile distant, we availed ourselves of it, and encamped on the river side. In the afternoon we had heavy rain from the west. During it, Mr. James Hawker, a resident at Moorundi, joined us, and took shelter in our tents. He had, indeed, kept pace with us all the way from the settlement in his boat, and supplied us with wild fowl on several occasions.
We had showers during the night, but the morning, though cloudy, did not prevent our moving on to Lake Bonney, distant, according to our calculation, between four and five miles. To determine this correctly, however, I ordered Mr. Poole to run the chain from the river to the lake. We had seen few or no natives as yet; but expecting to find a large party of them assembled at Lake Bonney, Mr. Eyre went before us with Kenny and Tenbury, leaving Nadbuck and Camboli to shew us the most direct line to the mouth of the little channel which connects Lake Bonney with the Murray, at which I purposed halting. The greater part of our way was through deep sandy cypress brushes, so that the cattle had a heavy pull of it. We reached our destination at 1 p.m., where we found Mr. Eyre, with eight or nine natives, all, who were then in the neighbourhood.
The back-water of the Murray was fast flowing into the lake, which already presented a broad expanse of water to the eye. It was covered with wild fowl of various kinds, and there were several patches of reeds in which they were feeding.
As I purposed stopping for a day or two, to rest the bullocks, I directed Mr. Poole to survey the lake, whilst I undertook to lay down the creek or channel connecting it with the river, in which service I enlisted Mr. Hawker, who had formerly been on the survey, and whose name I gave to the creek on the completion of our work.
Lake Bonney is a shallow sandy basin, which is annually filled by the Murray; and as it rises, so, to a certain extent, it falls with the river, until at length, being left very shallow, it is soon dried up. The Hawker being too small to discharge the water equally with the fall of the river, has a current in it after the river has lowered considerably, for which reason I thought, when I passed it on my second expedition, that it had been a tributary; but such is not the case--Lake Bonney receiving no water save from the Murray. To the south of it, or next the river, the ground is low, grassy, and wooded; but on every other side the lake is confined by a low sand hill, of about fifteen feet in height, behind which there is a barren flat covered with salsolaceous plants, and exactly resembling a dry sea marsh, if I may say so. The more distant interior is alternate brush and plain, and exceedingly barren. The day after we arrived, however, Tenbury, with the dogs, killed four large kangaroos and as he saw many more, it is to be presumed that thereabouts they are pretty numerous. The lake is ten miles in circumference. Hawker's Creek, taking its windings, is nearly six in length. The latitude of our camp was 34 degrees 13 minutes 42 seconds S.; its longitude 140 degrees 26 minutes 16 seconds. On September 1st. the thermometer, at 8 A. M. and at noon, stood at 48 degrees and 60 degrees respectively; the barometer at 29.750, and the boiling point was 212 degrees nearly, thus indicating that we had risen but a few feet above the level of the sea. We left Lake Bonney on the 3rd of September, and crossing the bank of sand by which it is confined, traversed the flat behind it for about three miles, when we ascended some feet, and entered a low brush that continued for nearly nine miles, with occasional openings in it to that angle of the river which is opposite to the one at the end of the fossil formation.
Our camp at this place was on one of the prettiest spots on the Murray. Our tents were pitched on some sloping ground, sheltered from the S.W. wind. The feed was excellent, and the soil of better quality than usual. We had a splendid view of the river, which here is very broad and flanked on the right by a dark clay cliff, which is exceedingly picturesque. On the opposite side of the stream there is an extensive, well wooded and grassy flat of beautiful and park-like appearance. Altogether it was a cheerful and pleasant locality, and we were sorry to leave it so soon. Our observations placed us in lat. 34 degrees 11 minutes 12 seconds S. and in long. 140 degrees 39 minutes 42 seconds E. From this point the general course of the Murray is much more to the north than heretofore, so that on leaving it we had more of northing in our course than anything else. Some strange natives brought up our cattle for us, to whom I made presents; but although so kindly disposed, they did not follow us. Indeed, the natives generally, seemed to regard our progress with suspicion, and could not imagine why we were going up the Darling with so many drays and cattle. Our sheep had now become exceedingly tame and tractable; they followed the party like dogs, and I therefore felt satisfied that I had not done wrong in bringing them with me. We travelled on the 4th, over harder and more open ground than usual, having extensive polygonium flats to our right. There were belts of brush however on the plains, the soil and productions of which were sandy and salsolaceous. At 4½ miles we struck a lagoon, and coming upon a creek at 13 miles, we halted, although the feed was bad, as the cattle were unable to get to the river flats in consequence of the flooded state of the creek itself.
On the 5th we travelled through a country that consisted almost entirely of scrub on the poorest soil. However, we were now approaching that part of
