We approached the river again early in the day, and pitched our tent on the summit of a sloping bank that overlooked one of its long still reaches. We were protected from the sun by the angophora trees, which formed a hanging wood around us, and, with its bright green foliage, gave a cheerfulness to the scene that was altogether unusual. The opposite side of the river was rather undulated, and the soil appeared to be of the finest description. The grass, although growing in tufts, afforded abundance of pasture for the cattle; and, on the whole, this struck me as a most eligible spot for a station, and I found it occupied as such on the return of the expedition. We had encamped about a quarter of a mile from Taylor's Rivulet, which discharges itself into the Macquarie from the N. E., and is the first stream, upon the right bank, below the Wellington Valley.
Immediately after receiving it the river sweeps away to the southward, in consequence of which it became again necessary for us to cross it. Our guides, who were intelligent lads, led the cattle to a ford, a little below the junction of Taylor's Rivulet, at which we effected a passage with some difficulty; the opposite bank being very steep, and we were obliged to force our way up a gully for some eighty or a hundred yards before we could extricate the team. Pursuing our journey, in a N. W. direction, we soon left the
rich and undulating grounds bordering the river behind us. A poor, level, and open country, succeeded them. The soil changed to a light red, sandy loam, on which eucalypti, cypresses, and casuarinae, were intermixed with minor shrubs; of which latter, the cherry tree (exocarpus cupressiformis) was the most prevalent.
At about seven miles from the river we passed some barren freestone ridges, near which Mr. Hume killed the first kangaroo we had seen. At mid-day we passed a small creek, at which the cattle were watered; and afterwards continued our journey through a country similar to that over which we had already made our way.
As we neared the stream we noticed the acacia pendula for the first time,—an indication of our approach to the marshes. The weather still continued extremely hot. Our journey this day was unusually long, and our cattle suffered so much, and moved so slowly, that it was late when we struck upon the Macquarie, at a part where its banks were so high that we had some difficulty in finding a good watering place.
Being considerably in front of the party, with one of our guides, when we neared the river, I came suddenly upon a family of natives. They were much terrified, and finding that they could not escape, called vehemently to some of their companions, who were in the distance. By the time Mr. Hume came up, they had in some measure recovered their presence of mind, but availed themselves of the first favourable moment to leave us. I was particular in not
imposing any restraint on these men, in consequence of which they afterwards mustered sufficient resolution to visit us in our camp. We now judged that we were about ten miles from the cataract, and that, according to the accounts of the stockman, we could not be very distant from the lake he had mentioned.
As I was unwilling to pass any important feature of the country without enquiry or examination, I requested Mr. Hume to interrogate the strangers on the subject. They stated that they belonged to the lake tribe, that the lake was a short day's journey to the eastward, and that they would guide us to it if we wished. The matter was accordingly arranged. They left us at dusk, but returned to the camp at the earliest dawn; when we once more crossed the river, and, after traversing a very level country for about nine miles, arrived at our destination. We passed over the dried beds of lagoons, and through coppices of cypresses and acacia pendula, or open forest, but did not observe any of the barren stony ridges so common to the N.E. About a mile, or a mile and a half, from the lake we examined a solitary grave that had recently been constructed. It consisted of an oblong mound, with three semicircular seats. A walk encompassed the whole, from which three others branched off for a few yards only, into the forest. Several cypresses, overhanging the grave, were fancifully carved on the inner side, and on one the shape of a heart was deeply engraved.
We were sadly disappointed in the appearance of the
lake, which the natives call the Buddah. It is a serpentine sheet of fresh water, of rather more than a mile in length, and from three to four hundred yards in breadth. Its depth was four fathoms; but it seemed as if it were now five or six feet below the ordinary level. No stream either runs into it or flows from it; yet it abounds in fish; from which circumstance I should imagine that it originally owed its supply to the river during some extensive inundation. Notwithstanding that we had crossed some rich tracts of land in our way to it, the neighbourhood of the lake was by no means fertile. The trees around it were in rapid decay, and the little vegetation to be seen appeared to derive but little advantage from its proximity to water.