friendly aid of the moon we were able to proceed, and many of the sudden
bends were revealed by the silvery stream of light it shed over the still
waters as they lay between banks now overhung by mangrove thickets, now
receding in plains dotted with gloomy clumps of gumtrees, as far as the
eye, from our low position and by the imperfect light afforded, could
reach. As we advanced, the measured plash of the oars frightened from
their roosting places in the trees, a huge flock of screeching vampires,
that disturbed for a time the serenity of the scene by their discordant
notes; and a few reaches further up, noisy flights of our old friends,
the whistling-ducks, greeted our ears. Their presence and cries were
hailed with delight, not exactly because they gave rise to any romantic
associations, but because they promised to recruit our victualling
department, which had not been supplied with such dainties since leaving
Disaster Inlet. Had our taste resembled that of some of the natives of
the western coast of Africa, the vampires would have answered our
purpose.

The yawl grounding repeatedly, occasioned so much delay, that after
proceeding seven miles I pushed on with the gig alone. Our course was
still South by East and the reaches were less crooked. Four miles further
we were delighted to find our progress rendered hazardous by sunken
trees, so much so indeed, that I was most reluctantly obliged to wait a
few hours for daylight. There could now no longer be a doubt that we were
in a river, and I immediately embraced the opportunity of gratifying my
earnest and heartfelt desire of paying the promised tribute to our
scientific predecessor; and accordingly named this, our first discovery,
after him, The Flinders.

As soon as the blackened heads of the fallen trees, evidences of how
fierce a torrent had borne them hither, could be discerned, we proceeded.