We had partly overcome this impediment, when Captain Wickham decided upon giving up the attempt, and ordered the boats to return, considering the evident risks too great to justify further perseverance.  We therefore gave up the exploration of the Fitzroy, in latitude 17 degrees 44 minutes South, longitude 124 degrees 34 minutes East, having traced its course for 22 miles in a general South-South-West direction, and having penetrated 90 miles from the coastline, towards the centre of Australia, from which we were still distant 600 miles.  My view from the treetop extended about four miles beyond the furthest point we had reached on the river, it had been our good fortune to add to the geography of Australia.  Its banks here were 20 feet high, and covered with grass; partially broken or washed down, they disclosed to view a rich alluvial soil, nearly two feet deep.

The trees we found most common during our expedition into this portion of the new lands of Australia, consisted chiefly of two species of palm, and three of the eucalypti, stunted banksia, acacia, and the singular tree before mentioned.  The birds we saw were wholly those belonging to the land, and were chiefly black and white cockatoos, and a variety of finches.  We neither saw nor caught any fish, and the absence of waterfowl led us to suppose they were scarce.

RETURN OF THE BOATS.

All the excitement and interest we had enjoyed in exploring the Fitzroy thus far, now left us, and our return was comparatively tedious and monotonous work.

March 12.

We, however, managed to reach our last night’s bivouac by dark; and towards the close of the next day we got as far down as the outer grassy islet in the entrance of the river.  The night was stormy, but the wind and rain together kept away the mosquitoes, and enabled us to obtain a little most welcome rest.  This change in the weather was sudden.  Hitherto we had been singularly fortunate, each succeeding night, and returning morn being, in cleanness and beauty, only a repetition of its predecessor.

March 13.

The morning was again fine, and the bright sky was not disfigured by the least trace of the dark clouds that had so lately overspread it.  The tide fortunately favoured our making an early start.  On passing Escape Point, so named, as the reader may recollect, in grateful remembrance of the providential escape a small party of us experienced there, we saw an alligator slide his unwieldy carcass from the soft mud-bank, upon which he had been lazily reclining, into one of the creeks we had so much difficulty in crossing.  We could not but feel grateful that even the existence of these monster reptiles in this river was then unknown to us, as the bare thought of a visit from one of them would have added to the unpleasantness of our position, while the actual presence of so wholesale a gastronomer would perhaps have given another and less auspicious name to Escape Point.