by surface drainage, we enlarged the pool, and obtained from it an abundance of the most delicious water we had tasted during our wanderings.  Mr. Browne will I am sure bear the Rocky Glen in his most grateful remembrance.  Relieved from further anxiety with regard to our animals, he hastened with me to ascend one of the hills that towered above us to the height of 600 feet, before the sun should set, but this was no trifling task, as the ascent was exceedingly steep.  The view from the summit of this hill presented the same broken country to our scrutiny which I have before described, at every point excepting to the westward, in which direction the ranges appeared to cease at about six miles, and the distant horizon from S.W. to N.W. presented an unbroken level.  The dark and deep ravine through which the creek ran was visible below us, and apparently broke through the ranges at about four miles to the W.N.W. but we could not see any water in its bed.  It was sufficiently cheering to us however to know that we were near the termination of the ranges to the westward, and that the country we should next traverse was of open appearance.

I had hoped from what we saw of it from the top of the hill above us, on the previous afternoon, that we should have had but little difficulty in following down the creek, but in this we were disappointed.

We started at eight to pursue our journey, and kept for some time in its bed.  The rock formation near and at our camp was trap, but at about a mile below it changed to a coarse grey granite, huge blocks of which, traversed by quartz, were scattered about.  The defile had opened out a little below where we had slept, but it soon again narrowed, and the hills closed in upon it nearer than before.  The bed of the creek at the same time became rocky, and blocked up with immense fragments of granite.  We passed two or three pools of water, one of which was of tolerable size, and near it there were the remains of a large encampment of natives.  Near to it also there was a well, a sure sign that however deep the water-holes in the glen might now be, there are times when they are destitute of any.  There can be no doubt, indeed, but that we owed our present supply of water both at this place and at the Coonbaralba pass, to the rains that fell in the hills during the week we remained at Williorara.

Soon after passing the native camp, our further progress was completely stopped by large blocks of granite, which, resting on each other, prevented the possibility of making a passage for the cart or even of advancing on horseback.  In this predicament I sent Flood to climb one of the hills to our left, to see if there was a leading spur by which we could descend to the plains; but on his return to us he said that the country was wholly impracticable, but that he thought we should see more of it from a hill he had noticed about three miles to the north-east.  We accordingly left Morgan with the horses and walked to it.  We reached