Progress of the boats arrested.

Over this we got tolerably well, but at the end of two miles in an East-South-East direction from Palm Island, all hopes were at an end of proceeding farther in the boats, as for a great extent the river was impassable for them.  We found there was a large sheet of water beyond, and then another dry patch.  It would therefore have been useless labour to attempt dragging the boats over any more of the dry parts.  Two conical-shaped hills, so much alike that we called them the Brothers, bore North by West 1/2 West one mile.

The thermometer was 101 degrees at noon in the shade.  I shot some very large dark-coloured ducks in the afternoon.  Kangaroos were numerous.  The water was fresh soon after passing Palm Island.

That we were thus finally deterred from proceeding farther with the boats, was a source of deep mortification.  Since the great flat we had experienced so much difficulty in getting over yesterday, all had gone well.  Each turn in the river appeared more beautiful, and brought something new to increase our interest; and we fondly imagined that great discoveries were in store for us.  But the fates had decreed otherwise, and we were compelled to pause, after having ascended in the boats from the ship above 75 miles.  We named this reach, in consequence, Reach Hopeless.

November 6.

It being evidently impracticable to proceed higher up in the boats; a small party of us landed at daylight, in order to ascend a neighbouring height, and thence to trace as far as possible the upward course of the river, preparatory to a pedestrian excursion along its banks.  Before sunrise we reached the summit of a narrow ridge, trending East-South-East 1/2 a mile east, from where the boats were lying:  in this singular ridge I again noticed the dip to the south-east:  it was composed of a variety of rocks, jasper, a greyish kind of flinty indifferent limestone, and greywacke.

Singular appearance of the river.

The view from it was very limited, the valley of the river turning short to the northward, two miles east by south of our position, to which we gave the name of Station Hill.  Before I had finished my round of angles, the heat had become so great that some of our party were compelled to return to the boats, whilst myself, with two of the men, pushed on for nearly two miles in an easterly direction, along the foot of some table-topped hills, and were then gratified with another peep at the river, which had a very singular appearance, in some places nearly dry, discovering a wide bed of large pebbles:  long narrow islands, whose shape attested the former rapidity of the currents, covered with reeds and acacias, and deep pools of standing water, were its most characteristic features.  Several kangaroos, alarmed by our approach, hastily quitted their cool hidingplaces, presenting beautiful shots; but as the traces of natives were both recent and numerous, we thought it most prudent to reserve our fire, and shortly after, upon finding a native fire still alight, to keep the open ground as much as possible.  We travelled for a long mile over a level flat of good soil, though now quite destitute of vegetation, save some beautiful specimens of the truly evergreen gumtree.