our over-eagerness,
as the bird was at first inclined to approach. Proceeding a little
farther we observed a small lake bearing north half a mile. Attracted by
the beauty of the vernal tints on its borders we went to taste the
waters. On the same refreshing errand was a luckless beautiful
slate-coloured egret, which Mr. Gore shot. Holding our west course we
made the river at the end of another mile. Its size was reduced to a mere
rivulet; being scarcely fifteen yards wide, with a depth of five feet.
Yet it had greater velocity than we had before observed, running at the
rate of a mile an hour, a clear babbling brook, over which, acacias and
drooping gums formed a leafy tunnel; its course was still from the south.

HALT THE PARTY AND PROCEED ALONE.

Whilst the rest of the party halted I proceeded, with the freshest man,*
in a southerly direction; urged on by what was, perhaps, now the
unjustifiable hope of discovering some distant point rising above the far
horizon as a definite result and reward of my exploration. It seemed,
however, almost impossible that this same wearisome monotony could long
continue; and I experienced much of that painful depressing excitement
which is created by a series of similar impressions when we are longing
for variety.

(*Footnote. A marine, of the name of John Brown, possessing great powers
of endurance. He died in 1845, in a situation I got him under the Trinity
House, on his obtaining a pension for long
servitude.)

We soon gained almost another two miles, when I availed myself of the
opportunity to satisfy a second time my ambition of outstripping my
companions in approaching towards that land of mystery, Central
Australia. Desiring Brown to make the river abreast, I ran a short
distance further, when I again met the Albert, flowing on as before, with
undiminished size. Even this short distance was something to gain in a
new and untrodden country.

The line of verdure still pointed out the southerly course of the river
across the endless plain; and it became natural to speculate on its
source or origin; whether it was the drainage of a swamp, or the outlet
of some lagoon, fed by the Cordillera to the eastward. But to speculation
alone was I reduced, it not being permitted me to clear up this point.
All I could do was to give one long lingering look to the southward
before I returned. In that direction, however, no curling smoke denoted
the presence of the savage; all was lonely a