actory; namely, "plenty, and a FLOOD
COMING DOWN from the Turmountains." The two policemen said they had
travelled twenty miles with it, on the day previous, and that it would
still take some time to arrive near our camp. About noon the drays
arrived in good order, having been encamped where there was no water
about six miles short of our camp, the whole distance travelled, from
Cannonba to the Macquarie, having been about nineteen miles. In the
afternoon two of the men taking a walk up the river, reported on their
return, that the flood poured in upon them when in the river bed, so
suddenly, that they narrowly escaped it. Still the bed of the Macquarie
before our camp continued so dry and silent, that I could scarcely
believe the flood coming to be real, and so near to us, who had been put
to so many shifts for want of water. Towards evening, I stationed a man
with a gun a little way up the river, with orders to fire on the flood's
appearance, that I might have time to run to the part of the channel
nearest to our camp, and witness what I had so much wished to see, as
well from curiosity as urgent need. The shades of evening came, however,
but no flood, and the man on the look-out returned to the camp. Some
hours later, and after the moon had risen, a murmuring sound like that of
a distant waterfall, mingled with occasional cracks as of breaking
timber, drew our attention, and I hastened to the river bank. By very
slow degrees the sound grew louder, and at length, so audible as to draw
various persons besides from the camp to the river-side. Still no flood
appeared, although its approach was indicated by the occasional rending
of trees with a loud noise. Such a phenomenon in a most serene moonlight
night was quite new to us all. At length, the rushing sound of waters and
loud cracking of timber, announced that the flood was in the next bend.
It rushed into our sight, glittering in the moonbeams, a moving cataract,
tossing before it ancient trees, and snapping them against its banks. It
was preceded by a point of meandering water, picking its way, like a
thing of life, through the deepest parts of the dark, dry, and shady bed,
of what thus again became a flowing river. By my party, situated as we
were at that time, beating about the country, and impeded in our journey,
solely by the almost total absence of water--suffering excessively from
thirst and extreme heat,--I am convinced the scene never can be
forgotten. Here cam