We kept on the open ground, just cutting the heads of the gullies, and advanced eight miles before we found a convenient spot at which to drive the cattle down to water, and feed in the flats below, and into which it appeared impracticable to get our drays.  I halted, therefore, on the crest of the hills, and sent Flood and three other men to watch the animals, and to head them back if they attempted to wander.  In the afternoon we went down to the river, and on crossing the flat came upon the dray tracks of some overland party, the leader of which had taken his drays down the hills, notwithstanding the apparent difficulty of the attempt.  But what is there of daring or enterprise that these bold and high-spirited adventurers will shrink from?

I had hoped that the more elevated ground we here occupied, would have been warmer than the flats on which we had hitherto pitched our tents, but in this I was disappointed.  The night was just as cold as if we had been in the valley of the Murray.  At sunrise the thermometer stood at 27 degrees, and we had thick ice in our pails.

At five miles from this place, having left the river about a mile to our right, we arrived at the termination of this line of hills.  They gradually fell away to the eastward and disappeared; nor does the fossil formation extend higher up the Murray.  It here commences or terminates, as the traveller is proceeding up or down the stream.  A meridian altitude on the hill just before we descended, placed it in lat. 34 degrees 9 minutes 56 seconds, so that we had still been going gradually to the south.  At the termination of the hills, the Murray forms an angle in turning sharp round to that point, and after an extensive sweep comes up again, so as to form an opposite angle; the distance between the two being 14 or 15 miles, and from the ground on which we stood the head of Lake Bonney bore E. 5 degrees S., distant six miles.

On descending from these hills we fell into the overland road, but were soon turned from it by reason of the floods, and obliged to travel along a sandy ridge, forming the left bank of a lagoon, running parallel to the river, into which the waters were fast flowing; but finding a favourable place to cross, at a mile distant, we availed ourselves of it, and encamped on the river side.  In the afternoon we had heavy rain from the west.  During it, Mr. James Hawker, a resident at Moorundi, joined us, and took shelter in our tents.  He had, indeed, kept pace with us all the way from the settlement in his boat, and supplied us with wild fowl on several occasions.

We had showers during the night, but the morning, though cloudy, did not prevent our moving on to Lake Bonney, distant, according to our calculation, between four and five miles.  To determine this correctly, however, I ordered Mr. Poole to run the chain from the river to the lake.  We had seen few or no natives as yet; but expecting to find a large party of them assembled at Lake Bonney, Mr. Eyre went before