me, as if to warn me of the danger
of my situation, my mind turned solely on the singular failure of the
river. I could not but encourage hopes that this second channel that
remained to be explored would lead us into an open space again; and as
soon as the morning dawned we pursued our way to it. In passing some
dead trees upon the right bank, I stopped to ascend one, that, from an
elevation, I might survey the marsh, but I found it impossible to trace
the river through it. The country to the westward was covered with
reeds, apparently to the distance of seven miles; to the N.W. to a
still greater distance; and to the north they bounded the horizon.

The whole expanse was level and unbroken, but here and there the reeds
were higher and darker than at other places, as if they grew near
constant moisture; but I could see no appearance of water in any body,
or of high lands beyond the distant forest.

As soon as we arrived at the end of the main channel, we again got out
of the boat, and in pushing up the smaller one, soon found ourselves
under a dark arch of reeds. It did not, however, continue more than
twenty yards when it ceased, and I walked round the head of it as I had
done round that of the other. We then examined the space between the
creeks, where the bank receives the force of the current, which I did
not doubt had formed them by the separation of its eddies. Observing
water among the reeds, I pushed through them with infinite labour to a
considerable distance. The soil proved to be a stiff clay; the reeds
were closely embodied, and from ten to twelve feet high; the waters
were in some places ankle deep, and in others scarcely covered the
surface. They were flowing in different points, with greater speed than
those of the river, which at once convinced me that they were not
permanent, but must have lodged in the night during which so much rain
had fallen. They ultimately appeared to flow to the northward, but I
found it impossible to follow them, and it was not without difficulty
that, after having wandered about at every point of the compass, I
again reached the boat.

CAUSES OF THE FAILURE OF THE RIVER.

The care with which I had noted every change that took place in the
Macquarie, from Wellington Valley downwards, enabled me, in some
measure, to account for its present features. I was led to conclude
that the waters of the river being so small in body, excepting in times
of flood, and flowing for so many