It is impossible to contemplate such a prosperous state of things in a colony that has only just completed the eleventh year of its existence, without feeling satisfied that some unusually favourable circumstances had brought it about.  Had South Australia been as distant from the older colonies on the continent as Swan River, the amount of stock she would have possessed in an equal length of time, could not have amounted to a tenth of what they now number.  It is to the discovery of the Darling and the Murray that South Australia owes the superabundance of her flocks and herds, and in that superabundance the full and complete establishment of her pastoral interests.  I stated in the course of my preliminary observations on the progress of Australian discovery, that when I was toiling down those rivers, with wide spread deserts on either side of me, I had little idea for what purposes my footsteps had been directed into the interior of the Australian Continent.  If I ever entertained even a distant hope that the hilly country from which I turned back at the termination of the Murray, after having floated on its broad waters for eighty-eight days, might ever be occupied, I certainly never hoped that the discoveries I was then making would one day or other prove of advantage to many a friend, and that I was marking the way for thousands of herds and flocks, the surplus stock of New South Wales, to pass into the province of South Australia.

If then such consequences have resulted from enterprises, apparently of almost as hopeless a character as the one from which I have so recently returned, why, I would ask, should I despair, as to its one day or other being instrumental in benefiting my countrymen.  There may yet be that in the womb of time which shall repay me for all I suffered in the performance of that dreary task—­when I shall have it in my power to say, that I so far led the way across the continent as to make the remainder of easy attainment, and under the guidance and blessing of Providence have been mainly instrumental in establishing a line of communication between its northern and southern coasts.  I see no reason why I should despair that such may one day be the case.  The road to the point which may be termed my farthest north is clear before the explorer.  That point gained, less probably than 200 miles—­a week’s journey with horses less jaded than mine unfortunately were, and with strength less reduced—­would place him beyond the limits of that fearful desert, and crown his labours with success.  I believe that I could, on my old route, make the north coast of Australia, to the westward of the Gulf of Carpentaria, before any party from Moreton Bay.  If it is asked what practical good I should expect to result from such an undertaking, I would observe, that nothing would sooner tend to establish an intercourse with the inhabitants of the Malay archipelago, than the barter of cattle and sheep, that in truth there is no knowing what the ultimate results would be.  The Malays who visit the northern coasts of Australia to collect the sea slug, have little inducement to keep up an intercourse with our settlements in Torres Straits, but there can be no doubt of their readiness to enter into commercial intercourse with us, which, if Torres Straits are to be navigated by steamers, would be doubly important.