lready crossed
nearer its source, and which Mr. Hume must have struck upon when
endeavouring to gain the Castlereagh from the marshes of the Macquarie.

A perusal of these sheets will ere this have impressed on the reader's
mind, the peculiarity of that fortune which led us from the Castlereagh
to the creek, at which alone our wants could have been supplied. Had we
wandered down the river, as we undoubtedly should have done had we
recognised it as such, the loss of many of our animals would have been
the inevitable consequence, and very probably a final issue would have
been put to our journey. It is only to those who are placed in
situations that baffle their own exertions or foresight, that the
singular guidance of Providence becomes fully apparent.

NATIVES PERISHING FROM FAMINE.

It would appear that the natives were dying fast, not from any disease,
but from the scarcity of food; and, should the drought continue, it
seemed probable they may became extinct.

The men found the body of a woman covered with leaves near the tents,
and very properly buried it. We made Friday a day of rest for
ourselves, as indeed was necessary; and on the following morning
proceeded down the river, and encamped on a high bank above it, at the
base of which, our cattle both fed and watered.

At this spot one of the largest gum-trees I had ever seen had fallen,
having died for want of moisture; indeed, the state of the vegetable
kingdom was such as to threaten its total extinction, unless a change
of seasons should take place.

It may be worthy of remark that, from our first arrival on the banks of
the Castlereagh, to our arrival at the present camp, we never picked up
a stone, or a pebble, in its bed.

JUNCTION OF THE CASTLEREAGH WITH THE DARLING.

In the hope that we should fall on some detached pond, we pursued our
journey on the 29th. The Castlereagh gave singular proofs of its
violence, as if its waters, confined in the valley, had a difficulty in
escaping from it. We had not travelled two miles, when in crossing, as
we imagined, one of its bights, we found ourselves checked by a broad
river. A single glimpse of it was sufficient to tell us it was the
Darling. At a distance of more than ninety miles nearer its source,
this singular river still preserved its character, so strikingly, that
it was impossible not to have recognised it in a moment. The same steep
banks and lofty timber, the same deep reaches, alive with fish, were