On the morning of the 26th we availed ourselves of the first favourable point to ascend from the river flats to the higher ground, since it prevented our following the windings of the river and shortened our day’s journey.  In doing this we sometimes travelled at a considerable distance from the Murray—­the surface of the country was undulating and sandy, with clumps of stunted cypress trees, and eucalyptus dumosa scattered over it.  Low bushes of rhagodia, at great distances apart, were growing on the more open ground; the soil, consisting of a red clay and sand, only superficially covering the fossil formation beneath it.  At 11 a.m. we entered a dense brush of cypress and eucalypti growing in pure sand.  Fortunately for us the overlanders had cut a passage through it, so that we had a clear road before us, but the drays sunk deep into the loose sand in which these trees were growing, and the bullocks had a constant strain on the yoke for six miles.  We then broke into more open ground, and ultimately reached the river in sufficient time to arrange the camp before sunset, although we had 2 1/2 miles to travel on a S.W. course before we found a convenient place to stop at.  Our course during the day having been S.S.E., we had thus been obliged to turn back upon it, but this was owing to the direction the river here takes and was unavoidable.  At 6 p.m. the thermometer stood at 55 degrees of Farenheit, the barometer at 30.000, and the boiling point of water by two thermometers with a difference of 2 degrees 212 minutes and 214 minutes, respectively, our distance from the sea coast being about 120 {180 in published text} miles as the crow flies.

It was generally thought in Adelaide that having started so late in the season, I should experience some difficulty in getting feed for the cattle.  From my experience, however, of the seasons in the low region through which the Murray flows, I had no such anticipation.  The only fear I had, was, that we should be shut out from flats of the river by the floods, as I knew it would be on the rise at the time we should be upon it.  To this point, however (and I may add, with few exceptions), we found an abundance of feed, both along the line of the Murray and the Darling, but at our present encampment our animals fared very indifferently, in consequence of the poor nature of the soil.  Our tents were pitched at the northern extremity of a long flat, between the river and a serpentine lagoon, which left but a narrow embankment between itself and the stream.  The soil of the flat was a cold white clay, on which there was scarcely any vegetation, so that the cattle wandered and kept us about an hour after our appointed hour of starting.  There had been a sharp frost during the night, and the morning was bitterly cold.  At sunrise the thermometer stood at 29 degrees, the dew point being 43 degrees, and the barometer at 29.700.