It was singular that we had no moisture on our skin; the reason why, perhaps, we were at that time much distressed¹ by violent headaches.

At about a quarter of a mile below the ponds the creek² spreads over an immense plain, almost as large as that of Cawndilla. A few trees marked its course to a certain distance, but beyond them all trace of its channel was lost, nor was it possible from the centre of the plain to judge at what point its waters escaped. The plain was surrounded by sand hills of about thirty feet in elevation³, covered with low scrub. When we started in the morning we crossed it on a west course, but saw nothing to attract our notice from the tops of the sand hills. We then turned to the northward⁴, and at about two miles entered a pretty, well wooded, but confined valley, in the bottom of which we once more found ourselves on the banks of the creek. Running it down in a north-west direction for seven miles, we were at length stopped by a bank of white saponaceous clay, crossing the valley like a wall. As we rode down the creek we observed large plains of red soil, precisely⁵ similar to the plains of the Darling, receding⁶ from it to a great distance on either side. These plains had deep water-worn gutters⁷ leading into the valley, so that I conclude the lateral⁸ floods it receives are as copious⁹ as those from the hills. On arriving at the bank running across the channel there were signs of eddying¹⁰ waters, as if those of the creek had been thrown back; but there was a low part in the bank over which it is evident they pour when they rise to its level. Mr. Stuart and Flood were the first to

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