ill on which the hut stands, it
runs away westward, almost in a direct line, for three miles, so that
the position commands a view of both the reaches, which are overhung by
the casuarina and flooded-gum. Rich alluvial flats lie to the right of
the stream, backed by moderate hills, that were lightly studded with
trees, and clothed with verdure to their summits. Some moderate
elevations also backed a flat, on the left bank of the river, but the
colour of the soil upon the latter, as well as its depressed situation,
showed clearly that it was subject to flood, and had received the worst
of the depositions from the mountains. The hills behind it were also
bare, and of a light red colour, betraying, as I imagined, a distinct
formation from, and poorer character than, the hills behind us. At
about three miles the river again suddenly changes its direction from
west to south, for about a mile, when it inclines to the S.E. until it
nearly encircles the opposite hills, when it assumes its proper
direction, and flows away to the S.W.

CROSS THE UNDERALIGA; REACH THE MORUMBIDGEE.

We crossed the Underaliga creek a little below the stock hut, and
encamped about a mile beyond it, in the centre of a long plain. We were
surrounded on every side by hills, from which there was no visible
outlet, as they appeared to follow the bend of the river, with an even
and unbroken outline. The scenery around us was wild, romantic, and
beautiful; as beautiful as a rich and glowing sunset in the most
delightful climate under the heavens could make it. I had been more
anxious to gain the banks of the Morumbidgee on this occasion, than I
had been on a former one to gain those of the Macquarie, for although I
could not hope to see the Morumbidgee all that it had been described to
me, yet I felt that on its first appearance I should in some measure
ground my anticipations of ultimate success. When I arrived on the
banks of the Macquarie, it had almost ceased to flow, and its current
was so gentle as to be scarcely perceptible. Instead, however, of a
river in such a state of exhaustion, I now looked down upon a stream,
whose current it would have been difficult to breast, and whose waters,
foaming among rocks, or circling in eddies, gave early promise of a
reckless course. It must have been somewhat below its ordinary level,
and averaged a breadth of about 80 feet. Its waters were hard and
transparent, and its bed was composed of mountain debris, and l