We were obliged to fasten up our horses to prevent them from straying for water, and had, therefore, nothing to do but to saddle them on the morning of the 10th, and started at six.  Our journey the day before had been 33 miles:  this day we rode about 36, to the little muddy creek the the reader will, I have no doubt, call to mind.  In it, contrary to my expectation, we found a small supply of water, though difficult to get; and I halted at it, therefore, for the night, and reached the Strzelecki Creek about half-past ten on the morning of the 11th, in which I was rejoiced to find that the water was far from being exhausted.  Turning northwards up the creek, I halted about half-past one at the upper pool, about seven miles from the first.  As far as this point the lay of the sand ridges was N.N.E. and S.S.W.

As Mr. Browne had stated to me, the country to the north was much more open from the point at which we now were than to the west.  A vast plain, indeed, met the horizon in the first direction, and as we rode up it on the 12th, we observed that it was bounded at irregular distances, varying from three to six miles, on either side of us, by low sand hills.  The whole plain was evidently subject to flood, and the travelling in some places was exceedingly heavy.  We had ridden from early dawn until the sun had sunk below the horizon, without seeing any apparent termination to this plain, or the slightest indication of water.  Just as it was twilight we got on a polygonum flat; there being a little sand hill on one side of it, under which I determined to stop for the night.

While the men were tethering the horses on the best part of the flat, where there happened to be a little green grass, Mr. Stuart and I walked up the sand hill; but in the obscure light then prevailing, we could not see any thing distinctly.  It appeared, however, that the country before us was traversed by a belt either of forest or of scrub; there was a long dark line running across the country, but we could not make out what it was, so that we descended to our little bivouac full of hope, and anxious for the morning dawn to satisfy ourselves as to what we had been looking at.  Day had scarcely broke when we were again on the hill; and as objects became clearer, saw a broad belt of gum-trees extending from the southward of east to the north-west.  It was bounded on either side by immense plains, on which were here and there ridges of sand, but at a great distance from each other.  There was another small sand hill distant four miles, and an apparently high and broken chain of mountains was visible to the N.E., distant more than 50 miles.  The trees were not more than three miles from us, and were denser and seemingly larger than any we had seen; and although we could not see any water glittering amidst the foliage, yet I could not but hope that we were on the eve of some important discovery.  There were likewise mountains in the distance, with broken lofty peaks, exactly resembling