July 4.—During this day's course we repeatedly attempted to gain the situation where we supposed the river to take its course, but were always disappointed; immense swamps constantly barred our attempts to travel northerly; these swamps were now covered with several feet of water, which, from the marks of dwarf trees growing in them, is sometimes three or four feet deeper. The same dead level of country still prevailed; and the sandy deserts of Arabia could not boast a clearer horizon, the low acacia bushes not in any degree interrupting the view. It was remarkable that there was always water where the dwarf box-trees grew; we might therefore be said to coast along from woody point to point, since all attempts to pass through them were uniformly defeated. The soil the same as yesterday, and most unpleasant to travel over, from the circular pools or hollows, which covered the whole plain, and which seem to be formed by whirlpools of water, having a deep hole in the bottom, through which the water appeared to have gradually drained off. It is clear that the entire country is at times inundated, and that as every thing now bears the appearance of long-continued drought, the swamps and stagnant waters are the residuum.
In the whole we proceeded upwards of fourteen miles, and stopped for the night upon the edge of one of the swamps, which are now the only places that afford any timber for firing. Some traces of natives were seen today, about three or four days old; they appeared to have been a single family of four or five persons. If there are any natives in our neighbourhood, they must have discovered us, and keep out of the way, otherwise upon these clear flats we could not avoid seeing them.
We were again fortunate enough to kill an emu, a most acceptable supply, since continued exercise gives us appetites something beyond what our ration can satisfy.
July 5.—Independently of the nature of the country rendering it altogether uninhabitable, the noxious vapours that must naturally arise during the heats of summer from these marshes (should the present surface of land on which we are now travelling be then free from water), would render the whole tract peculiarly unhealthy. Even during the short space of a fortnight, when it might be presumed that the winter's cold had in a great degree rendered the effluvia innoxious, every person in the expedition was more or less affected by dysenterical complaints; and the putrid sour smell that constantly attended us was symptomatic of what would be its effects when rendered active by the powerful heats of summer.
Although there was no grass out of the marshes for the horses to feed upon, yet they appeared to live very tolerably upon a species of atriplex which covered the plains, and being extremely succulent was eaten with avidity by them; they certainly preferred it to the grasses which the swamps produced.
Our route lay over the same unvarying plain surface as on the preceding days, and after travelling about five miles, we again saw the line of trees growing on the banks of the stream; and having performed about ten miles more, we halted on the immediate banks of it. These were considerably lower, being about six feet above the water; the current was almost imperceptible, and the depth did not exceed four feet, and was extremely muddy; the trees growing on the banks were neither so large nor so numerous as before, and a new species of eucalyptus prevailed over the old blue gum. The north-east side was precisely of the same description of country as the south-east. A very large sheet of water or lake lay on the north-west side, opposite to the place where we made the river. The horizon was clear and distinct round the whole circle, the line of trees on the river alone excepted. From the marks on these trees, the waters appear to rise about three feet above the level of the bank; a height more than sufficient to inundate the whole country. This stream is certainly in the summer season, or in the long absence of rain, nothing more than a mere chain of ponds, serving as a channel to convey the waters from the eastward over this low tract. It is certain that no waters join this river from its source to this point; and passing, as it does, for the most part, through a line of country so low as to be frequently overflowed, and to an extent north and south perfectly unknown. but certainly at this place exceeding forty miles, it must cause the country to remain for ever uninhabitable, and useless for all the purposes of civilized man.
These considerations, added to the state of our provisions, of which, at the reduced ration of three pounds of flour per man per week, we had but ten weeks remaining, determined me to proceed no farther westward with the main part of the expedition; but as the state of the greater part of our horses was such as absolutely to require some days' rest and refreshment, before we attempted to return eastward, I considered that it would be acting best up to the spirit of my instructions to proceed forward myself with three men and horses, and as we should carry nothing with us but our provisions, we should be enabled to proceed with so much expedition, as to go as far and see as much in three days as would take the whole party at least seven to perform.
My object in thus proceeding farther was to get so far to the westward as to place beyond all question the impossibility of a river falling into the sea between Cape Otway and Cape Bernouilli. In my opinion, the very nature of the country altogether precludes such a possibility, but I think my proceeding so far will be conclusive with those who have most strongly imbibed the conviction that a river enters the sea between the Capes in question, which was certainly an idea I also had entertained, and which nothing but the survey of a country, without either hills or permanent streams, could have destroyed.
I must observe as a remarkable feature in this singular country, that for the last fifty miles we have not seen a stone or pebble of any kind, save two, and they were taken out of the maws of two emus. I am now firmly persuaded that there are no eminent grounds in this part of the country, until these low sandy hills [Note: From Encounter Bay to this slight projection (Cape Bernouilli), the coast is little else than a bank of sand, with a few hummocks on the top, partially covered with small vegetation, nor could any thing in the interior country be distinguished above the bank. Flinder's Voy. Vol. I. p. 197.] which bound the south-western coast-line are reached; and these, in my judgment, are the only barriers which prevent the ocean from extending its empire over a country which was probably once under its dominion.
July 6.—A fine and pleasant morning; one of the horses was found dead, the greater part of the others in a very weakly state.