At 15 miles we met an impenetrable scrub of forest oak (casuarina) through which no passage appearing near, we were compelled, hot as the day was, to cut our way with axes where the trees were smallest and least numerous. We thus cleared our course for a mile and a half, when we had the good fortune to see once more an open forest before us, and after a journey of eighteen miles the party encamped on a dry watercourse, but without much prospect of finding any water. We had carried eleven gallons from our last camp, but the men had already experienced the full benefit of this, in cutting through the scrub, during a hot wind, after having travelled fifteen miles.
When the camp was fixed, I rode forward with Mr. White and the native, and soon entered an extensive valley beyond which I could just perceive, through the general smoke, a majestic chain of mountains extending to the westward. I never felt less love for the picturesque than at that time, for grand as the outline was, I could perceive no opening by which I could hope to cross it.
WANT OF WATER.
Our present urgent want however was water, and fortunately, at a distance of upwards of four miles from the camp, we reached the stream watering that valley, and which we thankfully saluted with our parched lips, its waters being cool and clear.
MARKS OF NATIVES' FEET.
Imprinted on their sandy margin however our native guide discovered, apparently with horror, the fresh traces of human feet. The trees bore numerous marks of the mogo or stone hatchet, the use of which distinguishes the barbarous from the civil blackfellows, who all use iron tomahawks. Although Mr. Brown made the woods echo with his cooeys their inhabitants remained silent and concealed, a circumstance which seemed to distress him very much.
On returning to the party, we received the agreeable intelligence that some very good water had been found in a deep hole within a short distance of the tents. The supply however was not sufficient for the bullocks, which were consequently restless, and seemed so much disposed to ramble during the night that two men placed in charge found it extremely difficult to keep them together. This difficulty suggested the plan which I on subsequent occasions adopted, of confining these animals at night, within a temporary stockyard of ropes tied between trees.
MAULE'S RIVER.
December 19.
We left the ground at six A.M. and in an hour and half arrived at the stream of the valley, which I now named Maule's river. Here, leaving Mr. White with the party to encamp, that the cattle might be watered and refreshed during the day, I proceeded with the native and two men to examine the mountains before us.