anxious to ascertain if any fresh object was visible from its summit, I thought that from an eminence so much above the level of the surrounding objects, I might obtain a view of the marshes, or of water; but I was wholly disappointed.  The view was certainly extensive, but it was otherwise unsatisfactory.  Again to the N.W. the lowlands spread in darkness before me; there were some considerable plains beyond the near wood; but the country at the foot of the hill appeared open and promising.  Although the river line was lost in the distance, it was as truly pointed out by the fires of the natives, which rose in upright columns into the sky, as if it had been marked by the trees upon its banks.

To the eastward, Arbuthnot’s range rose high above the line of the horizon, bearing nearly due East, distant seventy miles.  The following sketch of its outlines will convey a better idea of its appearance from Mount Foster than any written description.

[small sketch here—­not shown in etext]

I stayed on the mount until after sunset, but I could not make out any space that at all resembled the formidable barrier I knew we were so rapidly approaching.  I saw nothing to check our advance, and I therefore returned to the camp, to advise with Mr. Hume upon the subject.  Not having been with me on Mount Foster, he took the opportunity to ascend it on the following morning; and on his return concurred with me in opinion, that there was no apparent obstacle to our moving onwards.  As the men were considerably better, I had the less hesitation in closing with the marshes.  We left our position, intending to travel slowly, and to halt early.

The first part of our journey was over rich flats, timbered sufficiently to afford a shade, on which the grass was luxuriant; but we were obliged to seek more open ground, in consequence of the frequent stumbling of the cattle.

We issued, at length, upon a plain, the view across which was as dreary as can be imagined; in many places without a tree, save a few old stumps left by the natives when they fired the timber, some of which were still smoking in different parts of it.  Observing some lofty trees at the extremity of the plain, we moved towards them, under an impression that they indicated the river line.  But on this exposed spot the sun’s rays fell with intense power upon us, and the dust was so minute and penetrating, that I soon regretted having left the shady banks of the river.

About 2.p.m. we neared the trees for which we had been making, over ground evidently formed by alluvial deposition, and were astonished to find that reeds alone were growing under the trees as far as the eye could penetrate.  It appeared that we were still some distance from the river, and it was very doubtful how far we might be from water, for which the men were anxiously calling.  I therefore halted, and sent Fraser into the reeds towards some dead trees, on which a number of spoonbills were sitting.