October 4.—We could distinctly hear, during the night, the murmurs of the surf on the beach, and the sound was most grateful to our ears, as the welcome harbinger of the point to which eighteen weeks of anxious pilgrimage had been directed. I accompanied the men who had been appointed to cut the road along the banks of the river. We had performed about a mile when we were stopped by a large stream from the southward. It was therefore necessary to carry the road along the banks, which we did for nearly two miles, when we left of for the day and returned to our tent. I caused the main branch of the river to be sounded near the junction of the southern branch which I had named King’s River, (after my friend who is now surveying the coast of this continent), and found, at one third ebb, four fathoms. King’s River appeared equally deep, and was about one hundred yards broad; the water at this time of the tide brackish: the country covered with brush, the soil very rich; and a few ceder trees were scattered among the other timber. The vines were of enormous size, and in many instances had entirely enveloped the trees to which they had attached themselves, a small part of their trunks only being here and there visible.
October 5.—Sent a party to cut the road up King’s River. After advancing between four and five miles, a small piece of forest ground was discovered, which determined me to remove the horses and baggage thither, since the distance which the people had to go to their work occasioned much delay. A great many natives’ canoes were seen on the river to-day fishing, and as the use of these canoes to cross King’s River would have been very desirable, we endeavoured to tempt their owners to visit us, but without success; it being out of our power to make them understand our meaning.