when he went to Broken Bay, whence, after a slight examination, he was
forced to return by the inclemency of the weather. On the 15th of April
he made another attempt to ascertain the character and features of the
unknown land that he had taken possession of. Landing on the shore of the
harbour, a short distance from the North Head, he started on a tour of
examination, and, in the course of his march, penetrated to a distance of
fifteen miles from the coast. At this point he caught sight of the
distant range that was destined to baffle for many years the western
progress of the early settlers. Phillip, on this his first glimpse of it,
christened the northern elevations the Caermarthen Hills, and the
southern elevations the Lansdowne; and a remarkable hill, destined to
become a well-known early landmark, he called Richmond Hill. In the brief
view he had of this range, there was suddenly born in Phillip's mind the
conviction that a large river must have its source therein, and that upon
the banks of such a river, the soil would be found more arable than about
the present settlement. He at once made up his mind to try and gain the
range on a different course.

A week later he landed at the head of the harbour and directed his march
straight inland, hoping to reach either the mountains, which he knew to
be there, or the river in whose existence he firmly believed.
Disappointment dogged his steps; on the first day a belt of dense scrub
forced his party to return and when, on the morrow, they avoided the
scrub by following up a small creek and got into more thinly timbered
country, their slow progress enabled them to accomplish only thirty miles
in five days. By that time, they were short of provisions; there was no
river visible, and the range still looked on them from afar. What cheered
them was the sight of some land that promised richly to reward the labour
of cultivation.