OLD CANOE. DRY STATE OF THE COUNTRY.

Exactly where the carts passed the dry channel a native's fishing canoe, complete with the small oar or spear and two little cords, lay in the dry and grassy bed of this quondam river where now we were likely to pass the night without finding water.* The intervening plain became very soft and distressing to the draught animals, and we were compelled to encamp on the edge of a scrub which bounded it, and at a distance of about four miles from the Darling. This was a long way to send our cattle, but the observance of our usual custom seemed preferable upon the whole, even in this extreme case, to passing the night without water. The sun was just setting when oxen and horses were driven towards the west in quest of the Darling, our only and never-failing resource at that time. Magnetic variation 7 degrees 8 minutes 15 seconds East.

(*Footnote. Large shells of the Unio genus projected from the hard and grassy surface, which had evidently been in the state of mud for a sufficient time to admit of their growth.)

DANGER AND DIFFICULTY OF WATCHING THE CATTLE ON THE RIVERBANKS.

July 2.

The men who returned with water for the camp last evening had obtained it at a lagoon short of the river, and where a large tribe of natives were seated by their fires. Another party of our men had driven the cattle to the river itself, for on its banks alone could any tolerable grass be found. I was therefore apprehensive that the natives would molest the cattle, when so far from our camp, and I accordingly sent six men armed to watch them. They returned about eleven o'clock this morning with all the cattle except one bullock; and as the drivers had been closely followed by the natives from daybreak it was then supposed that the animal had been speared. One of our wheels requiring new spokes, I proceeded only four miles this day, towards an angle of the river, in order to encamp in a good position and recover the missing animal alive or dead. The death of a bullock by the hands of the natives would have been a most unfortunate circumstance at that time, not so much because this was one of our best working animals, as because the dread with which these animals inspired the natives was one of our best defences. If they once learned to face and kill them it would be difficult for us, under present circumstances, to prevent the loss of many, and still more serious evils might follow. As soon as we took up our ground therefore I sent six men in search of the lost bullock; and before night they had followed his track to within a mile and a half of our camp near the river. Meanwhile we had found, long before their return, that he had fortunately joined the others early in the morning.

UNIFORM CHARACTER OF THE DARLING.

The river and its vicinity presented much the same appearance here that they did 200 miles higher up. Similar lofty banks (in this neighbourhood 60 feet in altitude) with marks of great floods traced in parallel lines on the clayey sides; calcareous concretions, transparent water, with aquatic plants, a slow current, with an equal volume of water, fine gumtrees, and abundance of luxuriant grass. Slight varieties in the feathered tribe were certainly observed; besides the crested pigeon there was one much smaller and of handsome but sober plumage and excellent flavour when dressed. Cockatoos with scarlet and yellow top-knot, and about six kinds of parrots which were new to us; also some curious small birds.

THE GRENADIER BIRD.

But of all the birds of the air the great object of Burnett's search was one wholly scarlet, of which kind only two had been seen at different places, far apart. Being wholly new, this bird might have been named the Grenadier, as a companion to the Rifle-bird. The junction of even the dry bed of a tributary was certainly a novelty; and the effect of this on the course of the river remained to be seen. From the station beyond the Darling I took the bearing of the furthest visible trees in the line of that river, and on my map it exactly intersected the bend, now the nearest to our camp. Beyond it nothing could be seen from hills or lofty trees, and all I could know then was that the river turned nearly westward, and that a tributary was about to fall into it from the east. We were near the place where it might reasonably be ascertained, from the direction of its further course, whether the Darling finally joined the Murray.