ANCE OF BEING CUT OFF FROM THE DEPOT BY THE RIVER
FLOODS.

The barometer had been falling gradually from the 1st instant, and this
was another source of anxiety to me; for we were in no small danger of
being separated from the other party by any such rise of the river as
might be expected after a heavy fall of rain.

June 4.

Notwithstanding the unpromising state of the mercurial column the night
had been fair, and in the morning the sky was clear. We lost no time in
moving on and we continued until we were four miles beyond our former
camp; and then crossing Golgol creek we occupied a clear point of land
between it and the Murray.

A SAVAGE MAN AT HOME.

As I was reconnoitring the ground for a camp I observed a native on the
opposite bank and, not being seen by him, I watched awhile the habits of
a savage man at home. His hands were ready to seize any living thing; his
step, light and noiseless as that of a shadow, gave no intimation of his
approach; and his walk suggested the idea of the prowling of a beast of
prey. Every little track or impression left on the earth by the lower
animals caught his keen eye, but the trees overhead chiefly engaged his
attention; for deep in the heart of some of the upper branches he
probably hoped to find the opossum on which he was to dine. The wind blew
cold and keenly through the lofty trees on the river margin, yet that
broad brawny savage was entirely naked. Had I been unarmed I had much
rather have met a lion than that sinewy biped; but situated as I was,
with a broad river flowing between us while I overlooked him from a high
bank, I ventured to disturb his meditations with a loud halloo: he stood
still, looked at me for about a minute, and then retired with that easy
bounding step which may be termed a running walk, and exhibits an
unrestrained facility of movement, apparently incompatible with dress of
any kind. It is in bounding lighting at such a pace that, with the
additional aid of the woomerah, an aboriginal native can throw his spear
with sufficient force and dexterity to kill the emu or kangaroo, even
when at their speed. One or two families of natives afterwards appeared
hutted on the riverbank nearly opposite to our camp, and Piper opened a
conversation with them across the river. These people had heard nothing
of what had befallen the Benanee tribe. They had some years before seen
white men go down and return up the river in a large canoe; and Piper
also learnt