returning to the camp.  He naturally asked what I purposed doing.  I told him that it appeared to me more than probable that the Morumbidgee would hold its course good to some fixed point, now that it had reached a meridian beyond the known rivers of the interior.  It was certain, from the denseness of the reeds, and the breadth of the belts, that the teams could not be brought any further, and that, taking everything into consideration, I had resolved on a bold and desperate measure, that of building the whaleboat, and sending home the drays.

Our appearance in camp so suddenly surprised the men not more than the orders I gave.  They all thought I had struck on some remarkable change of country, and were anxious to know my ultimate views.  It was not my intention, however, immediately to satisfy their curiosity.  I had to study their characters as long as I could in order to select those best qualified to accompany me on the desperate adventure for which I was preparing.

[Sturt accordingly built the whaleboat and embarked on the river.]

Jan. 14th. The men looked anxiously out ahead, for the singular change in the river had impressed on them an idea that we were approaching its termination, or near some adventure.  On a sudden, the river took a general southern direction, but, in its tortuous course, swept round to every point of the compass with the greatest irregularity.  We were carried at a fearful rate down its gloomy and contracted banks, and, in such a moment of excitement, had little time to pay attention to the country through which we were passing.  It was, however, observed that chalybeate springs were numerous close to the water’s edge.  At 3 p.m.  Hopkinson called out that we were approaching a junction, and in less than a minute afterwards we were hurried into a broad and noble river.

It is impossible for me to describe the effect of so instantaneous a change upon us.  The boats were allowed to drift along at pleasure, and such was the force with which we had been shot out of the Morumbidgee that we were carried nearly to the bank opposite its embouchure, whilst we continued to gaze in silent astonishment at the capacious channel we had entered; and when we looked for that by which we had been led into it, we could hardly believe that the insignificant gap that presented itself to us was, indeed, the termination of the beautiful and noble stream whose course we had thus successfully followed.  I can only compare the relief we experienced to that which the seaman feels on weathering the rock upon which he expected his vessel to have struck, to the calm which succeeds moments of feverish anxiety, when the dread of danger is succeeded by certainty of escape.

Jan. 23rd. Not having as yet given a name to our first discovery, I laid it down as the Murray River in compliment to the distinguished officer Sir George Murray, who then presided over the Colonial Department, not only in compliance with the known wishes of His Excellency, General Darling, but also in accordance with my own feelings as a soldier.