let us within reach.  We next ran on a bearing of 75 degrees, or nearly east, along a large path, crossing numerous small branches of the creek, with deep and sandy beds, and occasionally over small stony plains.  At noon we were at some distance from the creek, but then went towards it.  The gum-trees were no longer visible, but melaleucas, from fifteen to twenty feet high, lined its banks like a copse of young birch.  We now observed a long but somewhat narrow sheet of water, to which we rode; our suspicions as to its quality being roused by its colour, and the appearance of the melaleuca.  It proved, as we feared, to be slightly brackish, but not undrinkable.  Near the edge of the water, or rather about four or five feet from it, there was a belt of fine weeds, between which and the shore there were myriads of small fish of all sizes swimming, similar to those we had captured to the westward, in the fourth or O’Halloran’s Creek.  Here then was not only the clue as to how fish got into that isolated pond, but a proof of the westerly fall of the interior, since there was now no doubt whatever, but that the whole of the country Mr. Browne and I had traversed, even to the great sand hills on this side the Stony Desert, was laid under water, and by the overflow of this great creek filled the several creeks, and inundated the several plains that we had crossed.  By so unexpected a fact, was this material point discovered.  The Roan, at this time, could hardly walk, and not knowing when or at what distance we might again find water, or what kind of water it would be, I stopped on reaching the upper end of this pool, but even there it had a nasty taste, nor were any fish to be seen; a kind of weed covered the bed of the creek, and it looked like an inlet of the sea.

I was exceedingly surprised that we had not seen more natives, and momentarily expected to come on some large tribe, but did not, and what was very singular, all the paths were to the right, and none on the southern bank of the creek.

The weather continued intensely hot, and the flies swarmed in hundreds of thousands.  The sky was without a cloud, either by day or night, and I could not but be apprehensive as to the consequences if rain should not fall; it was impossible that the largest pools could stand the rapid evaporation that was going on, but I did not deem it right to unburden my mind, even to Mr. Stuart, at this particular juncture.

On the morning of the 2nd of November the horses strayed for the first time, and delayed us for more than two hours, and we were after all indebted to three natives for their recovery, who had seen them and pointed out the direction in which they were.  It really was a distressing spectacle to see them brought up, but their troubles and sufferings were not yet over.  The Roan was hardly able to move along, and in pity I left him behind to wander at large along the sunny banks of the finest water-course we had discovered.