of the marshes, or of water; but I was wholly disappointed. The view was
certainly extensive, but it was otherwise unsatisfactory. Again to the
N.W. the lowlands spread in darkness before me; there were some
considerable plains beyond the near wood; but the country at the foot of
the hill appeared open and promising. Although the river line was lost in
the distance, it was as truly pointed out by the fires of the natives,
which rose in upright columns into the sky, as if it had been marked by
the trees upon its banks.

To the eastward, Arbuthnot's range rose high above the line of the
horizon, bearing nearly due East, distant seventy miles. The following
sketch of its outlines will convey a better idea of its appearance from
Mount Foster than any written description.

[small sketch here--not shown in etext]

I stayed on the mount until after sunset, but I could not make out any
space that at all resembled the formidable barrier I knew we were so
rapidly approaching. I saw nothing to check our advance, and I therefore
returned to the camp, to advise with Mr. Hume upon the subject. Not having
been with me on Mount Foster, he took the opportunity to ascend it on the
following morning; and on his return concurred with me in opinion, that
there was no apparent obstacle to our moving onwards. As the men were
considerably better, I had the less hesitation in closing with the
marshes. We left our position, intending to travel slowly, and to halt
early.

The first part of our journey was over rich flats, timbered sufficiently
to afford a shade, on which the grass was luxuriant; but we were obliged
to seek more open ground, in consequence of the frequent stumbling of the