The first sight of the salt water of the gulf was hailed by all with feelings of indescribable pleasure, and by none more than by myself; although tinctured with regret at not having succeeded in bringing my whole party to the end of what I was sanguine enough to think the most difficult part of my journey.  We had now discovered a line of communication by land between the eastern coast of Australia, and the gulf of Carpentaria:  we had travelled along never failing, and, for the greater part, running waters:  and over an excellent country, available, almost in its whole extent, for pastoral purposes.  The length of time we had been in the wilderness, had evidently made the greater portion of my companions distrustful of my abilities to lead them through the journey; and, in their melancholy conversations, the desponding expression, “We shall never come to Port Essington,” was too often overheard by me to be pleasant.  My readers will, therefore, readily understand why Brown’s joyous exclamation of “Salt Water!” was received by a loud hurrah from the whole party; and why all the pains, and fatigues, and privations we had endured, were, for the moment, forgotten, almost as completely as if we had arrived at the end of the journey.

July 6.—­remained in camp the whole of this day, to rest the poor animals, which had been much fatigued by our last long stage.  Charley shot a duck (Malacorhynchus membranaceus); and he, Brown, and John Murphy, went to the salt water to angle.  My expectations, however, of catching fish in the salt water, and of drying them, were sadly disappointed.  The whole amount of their day’s work was, a small Silurus, one mullet, and some small guard-fish.

The weather continued fine, the forenoon usually very hot, but the air was cooled in the afternoon by a south-west breeze; the nights were clear and rather cold.

When I left Moreton Bay, I had taken a spare set of horse-shoes with me for every horse.  They were shod at our leaving the Downs, but they soon lost their shoes; and, as our stages were short, and the ground soft, I did not think it necessary to shoe them again.  In travelling along the Burdekin, however, and the upper Lynd, they became very foot-sore; but still there was a sufficient change of good country to allow them to recover; I had been frequently inclined to throw the spare shoes away, but they had as often been retained, under the impression that they might be useful, when we came to the gulf, to barter with the natives for food, particularly for fish.  Finding, however, that the natives were hostile, and scarcely wishing to have any farther intercourse with them, I decided upon leaving the horse-shoes, and several other cumbersome articles behind; and they were consequently thrown, with two spare gun barrels, into the water-hole at which we were encamped.  The natives will probably find them, when the holes dry up; and, if preserved, they will be a lasting testimonial of our visit.