Nov. 1.—­We reached lat. 14 degrees 16 minutes 17 seconds, having travelled about nine miles north-west by north.  A range composed of baked sandstone, approached so close to the banks of “Flying-Fox Creek,” that we were obliged to cross the range; to the east-ward of which tea-tree flats extended, with many deep but dry water-holes, fringed with fine drooping tea-trees.  The country farther on, was well grassed and lightly timbered.  Winding round isolated ranges on a N.N.W. course, we came again on the Pandanus creek, which we followed.  This creek was joined by several other sandy creeks, also by dry channels fringed with Pandanus, and by chains of water-holes, in which Typhas (bullrush) indicated the underground moisture.  Some long-stretched detached hills were seen to the northward, and a long range to the eastward, trending from south to north.  The flat valley between them was scattered over with groves of Pandanus.  A high stiff grass covered the approaches of the creeks, and long tracts, which had been burnt some time ago, were now covered with delightful verdure.  This, with the dark green belt of trees which marked the meanderings of several creeks, gave to this beautiful country the aspect of a large park.  I was following one of the sandy creeks, when Mr. Calvert called my attention to a distant belt of Pandanus, which he supposed to be a river; I sent Mr. Roper to examine it; and, when the discharge of his rifle apprized us that he had met with water, we followed him.  It was a broad creek, with a stream about three feet deep, and from seven to ten yards wide, with a firm and sandy bed; its banks were shaded by large gum-trees, and Sarcocephalus; and thick reeds, and a stiff blady grass fringed its waters.  The frequent smoke which rose from every part of the valley, showed that it was well inhabited.  Brown met two natives, with their gins and children, but they ran away as soon as they saw him.  At sunset, a great number of them had collected near our camp, and set fire to the grass, which illumined the sky, as it spread in every direction.  They tried to frighten us, by imitating a howling chorus of native dogs; but withdrew, when they saw it was of no avail; at all events, they left us undisturbed during the night—­except by one of their dogs, which had been attracted probably by the scent of our flying-fox supper.  John and Charley had remained behind to shoot flying-foxes, and they returned at sunset, with twenty-nine; which furnished us with a good breakfast and dinner.  The night was clear, and a strong warm breeze set in at a quarter to nine, from the N.N.E.  It was as full and steady as those winds we had experienced at Peak Range, and at the Mackenzie.  Although we had seen the heads of only one branch of the Roper, I feel convinced that this creek, which was no doubt joined by that at which we encamped the day before, belonged equally to that river.