UPWARD COURSE OF THE VICTORIA.
Our last regretful view of this part of the Victoria--for every member of our little band seemed to feel an equal interest in the subject--was taken from a position in latitude 15 degrees 36 minutes and longitude 130 degrees 52 minutes East; 140 miles distant from the sea: but still 500 miles from the centre of Australia. Its apparent direction continued most invitingly from the southward--the very line to the heart of this vast land, whose unknown interior has afforded so much scope for ingenious speculation, and which at one time I had hoped, that it was reserved for us to do yet more in reducing to certainty. And though from the point upon which I stood to pay it my last lingering farewell, the nearest reach of water was itself invisible, yet far, far away I could perceive the green and glistening valleys through which it wandered, or rather amid which it slept; and the refreshing verdure of which assured me, just as convincingly as actual observation could have done, of the constant presence of a large body of water; and left an indelible impression upon my mind, which subsequent consideration has only served to deepen, that the Victoria will afford a certain pathway far into the centre of that country, of which it is one of the largest known rivers.
When I had at length most reluctantly made up my mind that all further progress along the banks of the Victoria must be abandoned, I left the spot of our temporary encampment, and proceeded alone a short distance in the direction of the interior; as though partly to atone, by that single and solitary walk towards the object of my eager speculation, for the grievous disappointment I experienced at being compelled to return. It was something, even by this short distance, to precede my companions in the exciting work of discovery--to tread alone the solitary glades upon which, till now, no native of the civilized West had set his foot--and to muse in solemn and unbroken silence upon the ultimate results of the work to which the last few days had been devoted--to mark the gradual but certain progression of civilization and christianity--and to breathe forth, unwitnessed and uninterrupted, the scarce coherent words of thankful adoration for the providential care which had hitherto sustained and directed us.
RETURN HOMEWARDS.
November 12.
I found our invalid so much recovered to-day, that I determined on making a short march homewards in the cool of the early morning. We reached Tortoise Reach by 8 o'clock A.M. where we passed the day. During our morning's walk I again had the luck to knock over a kangaroo. It was a female, and had a very young one in its pouch. It is worthy of remark that most of those I killed were does, with young ones of different ages, which afforded Mr. Bynoe the means of making some interesting observations on the manner in which they are brought forth, which will be found further on in the part of the work relating to Houtman's Abrolhos, where more opportunities occurred of arriving at a satisfactory result. Mr. Bynoe added here to his collection of birds, to which also, I was so fortunate as to be able to contribute a beautiful specimen of a rifle-green glossy ibis, common in Europe. I tried the water with a very roughly manufactured fly: the fish rose repeatedly at it, though there was scarcely a ripple, and notwithstanding my own want of success under these unpropitious circumstances, I feel perfectly satisfied that with proper tackle, and on a favourable day, this prince of sports might be enjoyed on the Victoria.
WICKHAM HEIGHTS.
WICKHAM HEIGHTS FROM TORTOISE REACH.