While Mr. Bynoe was occupied in making sketches of them, which have been transmitted to Dr. Richardson, Mr. Forsyth and myself ascended a neighbouring hillock, and traced the river in a westerly direction for two miles; it then turned round to North-North-East:  a deep narrow valley separated it from the higher land to the eastward.  The bed of the river at this place, though partly dry, was wider than we had hitherto seen it, and the trees upon its banks still showed evident signs of being washed by a mountain torrent.  After making a set of observations for longitude, we started again at 3 o’clock P.M. taking a north-west direction over a flat of tolerably fine light mould.  Near here a party of natives crossed the river, in the direction of those we had first seen:  perhaps to effect a junction of forces and demand the meaning of our strange intrusion.  We took an East 1/2 North direction across the flat, but finding the ground very broken and stony, intersected by deep watercourses, and rendered additionally impracticable by high grass and thick reeds, we were compelled, after getting half across, to make the best of our way to the river.

Fatigue of the party.

It was intensely hot, not a breath of air stirring, and to add to our misfortunes, we had inadvertently dined off the contents of a canister of salt meat.  We reached the river at half-past five, being all of us pretty well knocked up with heat, fatigue, and thirst:  one of our party, I heard afterwards, drank nearly two quarts of water at a draught.

Further on in this reach, I determined to occupy quarters for the night; it was wide and deep, trending East by South, but shut in about a mile above our present position by a dry patch of stones, with clear banks on either side.  As we were now in what appeared to be a rather thickly populated district of the country, it was requisite to choose a position beyond the reach of sudden attack.  Having consulted our security as much as possible in this particular, I took, before dark, the necessary bearings and angles for the survey, and was delighted to observe that the valley of the river again trended away to the southward.  We had a cool breeze after dark from the north-west, and the thermometer went down to 90 degrees.  I had scarcely secured observations for latitude and longitude, before a squall from the south-east, accompanied by heavy rain, recalled the scene of last night.

Charm of discovery.

The same screams from the same kind of birds, disturbed in their roosting places, and the same mournful howling of the wind, as it swept fitfully through the trees that overshadowed us, broke the silence that had reigned around our solitary fire, and exercised their wondrous power over the imagination.  In a few moments my thoughts were borne on to the very heart of this mysterious country, over many a dreary plain, where thirst, fatigue, and hunger were all forgotten.  It is impossible to define the exact nature of the charm which particular minds find in the perils and adventures of discovery, whether on the shore or over the wave.  Certain, however, it is, that scarce any motive of human exertion can compete with it in the powers of endurance it supplies to its votaries.