The gum-trees as we proceeded down the creek increased in size, and their foliage was of a vivid green.  The bed of the creek was of pure sand, as well as the plains through which it ran, although there was alluvial soil partially mixed with the sand, and they had an abundance of grass upon them, the seed having been collected by the natives for food.  At about 14 miles from the place where we stopped, the creek lost its sandy bed, and got one of tenacious clay.  We soon afterwards pulled up for the night, at two pools of water that were still of considerable size, and on which there were several new ducks.  They must, indeed, have been large deep ponds not many weeks before, but had now sunk several feet from their highest level, and, however valuable to a passing traveller, were useless in other respects, as our cattle would have drained them in three or four days.  From this place also the natives appeared to have suddenly retreated, since there was a quantity of the Grass [Note 9.  “Panicum laevinode” of Dr. Lindley.] spread out on the sloping bank of the creek to dry, or ripen in the sun.  We could not, however, make out to what point they had gone.  The heat during the day had been terrific, in so much that we were unable to keep our feet in the stirrups, and the horses perspired greatly, although never put out of a walk.

It was singular that we had no moisture on our skin; the reason why, perhaps, we were at that time much distressed by violent headaches.

At about a quarter of a mile below the ponds the creek spreads over an immense plain, almost as large as that of Cawndilla.  A few trees marked its course to a certain distance, but beyond them all trace of its channel was lost, nor was it possible from the centre of the plain to judge at what point its waters escaped.  The plain was surrounded by sand hills of about thirty feet in elevation, covered with low scrub.  When we started in the morning we crossed it on a west course, but saw nothing to attract our notice from the tops of the sand hills.  We then turned to the northward, and at about two miles entered a pretty, well wooded, but confined valley, in the bottom of which we once more found ourselves on the banks of the creek.  Running it down in a north-west direction for seven miles, we were at length stopped by a bank of white saponaceous clay, crossing the valley like a wall.  As we rode down the creek we observed large plains of red soil, precisely similar to the plains of the Darling, receding from it to a great distance on either side.  These plains had deep water-worn gutters leading into the valley, so that I conclude the lateral floods it receives are as copious as those from the hills.  On arriving at the bank running across the channel there were signs of eddying waters, as if those of the creek had been thrown back; but there was a low part in the bank over which it is evident they pour when they rise to its level.  Mr. Stuart and Flood were the