May 4.

Our horses had fared but indifferently as to grass, and they had no water until this morning when we spared to each about half a gallon of what we carried; but this supply seemed only to make them more thirsty.  As soon as it was clear daylight we continued in the direction of the creek; but although its bed deepened and at one place (much trodden by the natives) we discovered a hole which had only recently dried up, still we found no water.  Further on the recent marks of the natives and their huts also were numerous; but how they existed in this parched country was the question!  We saw that around many trees the roots had been taken up, and we found them without the bark and cut into short clubs or billets, but for what purpose we could not then discover.  At eleven o’clock I changed my course to 300 degrees from north and, after travelling about three miles in that direction, I descried a goodly hill on my left, and soon after several others, one of which was bare of trees on the summit.  After so long a journey over unvarying flats, we had at length come rather unawares, as it seemed, into a hilly country, the heights of which were bold, rocky, and of considerable elevation.  I should estimate the summit of that which we ascended was 730 feet above the lower country at its base.  The dry creek which had led us towards these hills from such a distance northward, had vanished through them somewhere to our left; and, bold as the range was, still we could see no better promise of water than what this seemed to afford.

VIEW TOWARDS MOUNT GRANARD.

The summit up which we forced our horses over very sharp rocks commanded a most extensive and magnificent view of hills, both eastward and westward.  The country in the north, whence we had come, was nevertheless higher, although the horizon there was unbroken.  Southward the general line of horizon was a low level on which the hills terminated, as if it had been the sea.  There, I had no doubt, flowed the river Lachlan, and, probably, one of the highest of the hills was Mount Granard of Oxley.  Towards the east the most elevated hill bore 142 degrees 30 minutes from North, and was at a distance of about 12 miles.  It was a remarkable mass of yellow rock, naked and herbless, as if nature there had not yet finished her work.  That hill had an isolated appearance; others to the westward were pointed, and smoke arose from almost every summit, even from the highest part of the mass on which we stood.  Some sharp-edged rocks prevented us from riding to where the smoke appeared, and I was too lame to go on foot.  No natives were visible, and I could not comprehend what they could be all about on the various rugged summits whence smoke arose; as these people rather frequent valleys and the vicinity of ponds of water.  The region I now overlooked was beautifully diversified with hill and dale, still I could not discover much promise of water; but as smoke ascended from one flat to the