The first grey streaks of the morning were scarcely visible in the horizon, ere my party were scrambling up the eastern bank, eager to penetrate where no European foot had hitherto pressed. After leaving the inlet some distance behind, we took a South 1/2 East direction. The morning was deliciously cool for our purpose, the temperature being 56 degrees; and there was a most delightful elasticity in the air, quite in unison with the buoyant spirits that sustained us, as we stepped out over what we felt to be untrodden ground.

APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY.

It had often before been my lot to be placed in a similar position, and I have necessarily, therefore, given expression already to identical sentiments; but I cannot refrain from again reminding the reader how far inferior is the pleasure of perusing the descriptions of new lands, especially when attempted by an unskilled pen, to that which the explorer himself experiences. All are here on an equal footing; the most finished writer and the most imperfect scribbler are on the same level; they are equally capable of the exquisite enjoyment of discovery, they are equally susceptible of the feelings of delight that gush upon the heart as every forward step discloses fresh prospects, and brings a still more new horizon, if I may so speak, to view. And it may be added, that to the production of the emotions I allude to, beauty of landscape is scarcely necessary. We strain forward incited by curiosity, as eagerly over an untrodden heath, or untraversed desert, as through valleys of surpassing loveliness, and amid mountains of unexplored grandeur; or perhaps, I should say, more eagerly, for there is nothing on which the mind can repose, nothing to tempt it to linger, nothing to divert the current of its thoughts. Onward we move, with expectation at its highest, led by the irresistible charm of novelty, almost panting with excitement, even when every step seems to add certainty to the conviction that all that is beyond resembles all that has been seen. In the present case, with the exception of a clump of trees to the southward, there was nothing to break the vast level that stretched before us, its rim sharply defined against the morning sky. Here and there a charred stump, the relic of some conflagration, reared its blackened face, serving to keep us in the direction we had taken at starting, which was over a rich alluvial soil, that seemed to hold out a promise of a future brilliant destiny to this part of the continent. A partially dry lagoon communicating with another that was wet, to the eastward, and with a slight drain from the inlet to the westward, was crossed at the distance of four miles, when the direction we pursued was changed to South by West and a mile further we gained the raised patch of woodland already mentioned, where we put up a small light-coloured kangaroo. Descending from this we entered a low plain, the northern part of which is evidently at times under water. It is five miles across, surrounded with trees of small and open growth. Continuing over a clayey soil till we had made six miles from the boats, we turned off to the eastward, for the wood on that side, distant two miles, with the hope of getting a better view of the country around from the top of a tree; but there was nothing for my eager eyes to wander over but alternate plain and patches of stunted wood, stretching away in unbroken monotony on every side. The furthest we saw of this new country was in latitude 17 degrees 55 minutes South. It was with great reluctance that we turned our backs on a route so direct to the interior of the continent, now comparatively a proximate point; and the tide of animal spirits that flowed so high during our advance to the southward ebbed rapidly as soon as the retreat commenced; and our return appeared wearisome.

We now varied our track, and traced the head of the inlet, where we saw the smokes of the natives and heard them shouting to each other, though they did not come in sight; the prints of their feet also seemed quite recent. Near the partially dry lagoon a small freshwater lake was found, and the only rock formation yet seen; it was a sand and ironstone. About two miles south of the boats we discovered another freshwater lake, literally alive with waterfowl, whose varied colours contrasted charmingly with the bright verdure of the banks that seemed to repose on the silent waters, and were reflected on its glassy surface, now and then disturbed by the birds as they winged their way from one part to the other. Spoonbills and ibises, some white and some glossy rifle-green, and two kinds of a small grey duck, seen once only before on the Victoria, are among those worth enumerating. In the afternoon we got back to the boats. I may here mention, that as in Van Diemen's Inlet, the water appeared to be less salt at low tide.

RETURN TO THE SHIP.

July 26.

At daylight the boats moved off on their return; and soon after the sun's bright orb had sunk into the same vast dead level from which it rose, we reached the entrance. Being anxious that the surgeon should see Mr. Gore's hand, I sent the gig on with him to the ship; next morning, as we crossed the bar, he rejoined us, and I was very happy to find the ablution in brandy had been of great service to his wound.

After leaving Disaster Inlet, the coast was examined to the eastward, and at the distance of fifteen miles, in an East 5 degrees South direction, we came to a projection that we called Middle Point. The shore between fell back, forming a bight three miles deep, in latitude 17 degrees 44 minutes South, the most southern shore of the Gulf. A growth of mangroves prevented our landing at high-water, and at low, soft mud flat fronted the shore for the distance of a mile and more. Five miles from Disaster Inlet there was a small creek; with others, three, four, and six miles westward of Middle Point.

MORNING INLET.

Two miles south-east of it was another opening of more importance, almost forming a channel quite through the flat at the entrance, which extended three miles off the north-west side of Middle Point. I named this Morning Inlet, from the time at which I entered it; and after proceeding a mile in a southerly direction landed for observations, just within the mangroves that fringe the entire coast. My view of the interior was very limited: for some distance were patches of bare mud, whitened with a salt incrustation, which appeared the character of the country immediately behind the mangroves; afterwards it rose into plains, on which small gum-trees were to be seen in the distance.