the hills, and came, after crossing a small sandy creek to a fine salt-water river, as broad as any we had seen.  High hills were at its left bank; and, as we followed it up in a direction S. 60 degrees W., the right became more broken, and the vegetation richer.  A very conspicuous foot-path led us through heaps of cockle shells to a fishing station of the natives, where they seemed to have a permanent camp; the huts being erected in a substantial manner with poles, and thatched with grass and the leaves of Pandanus; there were extensive fire places containing heaps of pebbles; and an abundance of fish bones.  The weir was, as usual, formed with dry sticks, across a shallow part of the river.  A spring of fresh water was below the camp at the edge of high water.  As the tide was high, and an abundant supply of fresh water was found in a creek which joined the river a few hundred yards from the fishery, we encamped on the creek, in lat. 16 degrees 28 minutes 57 seconds, lon. 137 degrees 23 minutes.  I consider this river to be the “Abel Tasman” of the Dutch navigators:  and that it is probably joined by the Calvert.  Its flats were well-grassed, and very openly timbered with bloodwood, stringy-bark, leguminous Ironbark, then in blossom, and a large tree with white smooth bark, spreading branches, and pinnate leaves.  The salt water Hibiscus (Paritium) and Acacia (Inga moniliformis), were also in blossom.

Charley, Brown, and John, went to spear some fish, but the tide was out, the water shallow, and the fish were gone.  Charley saw here, for the first time, the Torres Straits pigeon (Carpophaga luctuosa, Gould.)

The little creek, at which we were encamped, had formed its channel through sandstone rock; and its narrow bed, containing a ferruginous water supplied by springs, was crowded with high reeds, and shaded with various trees of a dense green foliage.  Frogs croaked, and crickets chirped, the whole night; and the call of goat-suckers, and the hooting of owls, were heard in every direction; large fish were splashing in the water; wallabies were bleating as they came down to the creek, and saw our horses; and mosquitoes by their loud humming prevented our sleeping.  This noise of animal life during the night formed an agreeable contrast to the dead silence which we had observed at almost all our camps around the gulf, with the exception of the one occupied on the 1st September, and of that at the Marlow, where the flying-fox was the merry reveller of night.

Sept. 10.—­We were again too late for low tide, to cross at the fishery of the natives, and consequently travelled about two miles and a half higher up, passing in our way three other fisheries; where we crossed the river, the bed was very wide, and covered with shrubs, shingle, and blocks of sandstone; but its rapid stream of fresh water was only about fifteen or twenty yards broad, and three feet deep.  At the left side of the river, we saw four or five