On the 5th, we passed the old man’s camp, in going down the creek, instead of crossing the plains as before, and halted at the junction of a creek we had passed, that came from the north, and along the banks of which I proposed turning towards the ranges.  On the morning of the 6th we kept the general course of this tributary, which ran through an undulating country of rocks and sand.  Its channel was exceedingly capacious, and its banks were high and perpendicular, but everything about it, was sand or gravel.  Its bed was perfectly level, and its appearance at once destroyed the hope of finding water in it.

The ground over which we rode, was, as I have stated, a mixture of gravel and rocks, and our horses yielded under us at almost every step as they trod on the sharp pointed fragments.  At eight miles we reached the outer line of hills, as they had appeared to us in the distance, and entered a pass between two of them, of about a quarter of a mile in width.  At this confined point there were the remains and ravages of terrific floods.  The waters had reached from one side of the pass to the other, and the dead trunks of trees and heaps of rubbish, were piled up against every bush.

There was not a blade of vegetation to be seen either on the low ground or on the ranges, which were from 3 to 400 feet in height, and were nothing more than vast accumulations of sand and rocks.  At a mile, we arrived at the termination of the pass, and found ourselves at the entrance of a barren, sandy valley, with ranges in front of us, similar to those we had already passed.  I thought it advisable, therefore, to ascend a hill to my left, somewhat higher than any near it, to ascertain, if possible, the character of the northern interior.  The task of clambering to the top of it however, was, in my then reduced state, greater than I expected, and I had to wait a few minutes before I could look about me after gaining the summit.  I could see nothing, after all, to cheer me in the view that presented itself.  To the northward was the valley in which the creek rises, bounded all round by barren, stony hills, like that on which I stood; and the summits of other similar hills shewed themselves above the nearer line.  To the east the apparently interminable plains on which we had been, still met the horizon, nor was anything to be seen beyond them.  Westward the outer line of hills continued backed by others, in the outlines of which we recognised the peaks and forms of the apparently lofty chain we first saw when we discovered the creek.  Thus, then, it appeared, that I had been entirely deceived in the character of these hills, and that it had been the effect of refraction in those burning regions, which had given to these moderate hills their mountain-like appearance.

Satisfied that my horses had not the strength to cross such a country, and that in it I had not the slightest chance of procuring the necessary sustenance for them, I turned back to Cooper’s Creek, and then deemed it prudent to travel quietly on towards the place at which we first struck it, and had subsequently left our surplus stores.