June, 1789.  A second expedition, to ascertain its course, was undertaken by his excellency, who now penetrated (measuring by the bed of the river) between 60 and 70 miles, when the farther progress of the boats was stopped by a fall.  The water in every part was found to be fresh and good.  Of the adjoining country, the opinions of those who had inspected it (of which number I was not) were so various, that I shall decline to record them.  Some saw a rich and beautiful country; and others were so unfortunate as to discover little else than large tracts of low land, covered with reeds, and rank with the inundations of the stream, by which they had been recently covered.  All parties, however, agreed, that the rocky, impenetrable country, seen on the first excursion, had ended nearly about the place whence the boats had then turned back.  Close to the fall stands a very beautiful hill, which our adventurers mounted, and enjoyed from it an extensive prospect.  Potatoes, maize, and garden seeds of various kinds were put into the earth, by the governor’s order, on different parts of Richmond-hill, which was announced to be its name.  The latitude of Richmond-hill, as observed by captain Hunter, was settled at 33 degrees 36 minutes south.

Here also the river received the name of Hawkesbury, in honour of the noble lord who bears that title.

Natives were found on the banks in several parts, many of whom were labouring under the smallpox.  They did not attempt to commit hostilities against the boats; but on the contrary shewed every sign of welcome and friendship to the strangers.

At this period, I was unluckily invested with the command of the outpost at Rose Hill, which prevented me from being in the list of discoverers of the Hawkesbury.  Stimulated, however, by a desire of acquiring a further knowledge of the country, on the 26th instant, accompanied by Mr. Arndell, assistant surgeon of the settlement, Mr. Lowes, surgeon’s mate of the ‘Sirius’, two marines, and a convict, I left the redoubt at day-break, pointing our march to a hill, distant five miles, in a westerly or inland direction, which commands a view of the great chain of mountains, called Carmarthen hills, extending from north to south farther than the eye can reach.  Here we paused, surveying “the wild abyss; pondering our voyage.”  Before us lay the trackless immeasurable desert, in awful silence.  At length, after consultation, we determined to steer west and by north, by compass, the make of the land in that quarter indicating the existence of a river.  We continued to march all day through a country untrodden before by an European foot.  Save that a melancholy crow now and then flew croaking over head, or a kangaroo was seen to bound at a distance, the picture of solitude was complete and undisturbed.  At four o’clock in the afternoon we halted near a small pond of water, where we took up our residence for the night, lighted a fire, and prepared to cook our supper:  that was, to broil over a couple of ramrods a few slices of salt pork, and a crow which we had shot.