June 30.—­For the first ten miles to-day we had a very bad road, over steep stony ridges and valleys, covered for the most part with dense gum scrub.  The surface was strewed over with rough pebbles or ironstone grit, and was broken a good deal into steep-faced ridges and deep hollows, as if formed so by the action of water.  The formation of these precipitous banks appeared to be an ochre of various colours—­red and yellow, and of a soft friable description.  At ten miles we crossed a watercourse with many pools of brackish water in it, trending to a lake visible under the coast ridge.  There was good grass near this, and many kangaroos were seen, but as no fresh water could be obtained, we passed on, and at three miles further came to a hole of rain-water in a rocky gorge, but here there was not a blade of grass.  Hoping to meet with more success further on, we still advanced for twelve miles, until night compelled us at last to encamp without either grass or water, both ourselves and our horses being greatly fatigued.

In the evening we obtained a view of some high rugged and distant ranges, which I at once recognised as being the mountains immediately behind King George’s Sound.  At last we could almost say we were in sight of the termination of our long, harassing, and disastrous journey.  Early in the morning I had told Wylie that I thought we should see the King George’s Sound hills before night, but he at the time appeared rather sceptical; when, however, they did break upon our view, in picturesque though distant outline, his joy knew no bounds.  For the first time on our journey he believed we should really reach the Sound at last.  The cheering and not-to-be-mistaken view before him had dissipated all his doubts.  Once more he gazed upon objects that were familiar to him; the home of his childhood was before him, and already almost in fancy he was there, and amongst his friends; he could think, or talk of nothing else, and actually complimented me upon the successful way in which I had conducted him to the end of his journey.  From our camp the distant ranges bore W. 5 degrees S., and West Mount Barren E. 5 degrees S.

July 1.—­After travelling three miles we came to a chain of large ponds of brackish water, but with excellent grass around them, and as the horses had nothing to eat or drink last night we halted for three hours.  The water was bad, but they drank it, and we were obliged to do so too, after an ineffectual search for better.  At noon we again moved on, and after proceeding about five miles, came to a large watercourse where the water was excellent, and the feed abundant.  Here we halted for the night, to make our horses amends for the bad fare and hard work of yesterday.  From the hill above our camp West Mount Barren bore E. 8 degrees N., Middle Mount Barren E. 21 degrees N., and Rugged Mountains behind the Sound, W. 4 degrees S. The watercourse we were upon, like all those we had lately crossed, had perpendicular cliffs abutting upon it, either on one side or the other, and the channel through which it wound looked almost like a cut made through the level country above it.  A few casuarinae were observed in parts of the valley, being the first met with since those seen near Cape Arid.