three miles from where we had left the barge. In doing so we started a
black man and woman; they were both old and naked; the former went out of
sight by running down the bank and plunging into the river, and the
latter climbed up a tree, where, while we remained, she continued
speechless. Where we crossed the Barkly it had a narrow muddy bed, the
water in which was cool from its being shaded with pandanus, palms, and
Leichhardt-trees. A short distance lower we recrossed by a tree which the
carpenter felled for that purpose, at a point where the deep water in it
is caused in some measure by the rise of the tide; afterwards we followed
down the river to the barge. At different places we marked the trees, but
did not see any that had been marked previously, nor indeed any traces of
any European parties. After walking over the Plains of Promise we went
down the river and anchored opposite the point where the cliffs are
mentioned in the charts as thirty feet high. In the morning, accompanied
by the native troopers Jemmy and Jackie, I went north-westerly over
slightly timbered grassy plains, and reached in about a mile a waterhole,
and in about another mile a narrow mere, which I called Woods Lake,
extending northerly and southerly at least for a mile or so in an
unbroken sheet of water. I went southward along the edge of Woods Lake to
a clump of box and tea-trees, and while I was marking a tree Jackie shot
(chiefly with one discharge of his gun) about half a dozen of
whistling-ducks and a large grey crane. As I never saw so many aquatic
fowls assembled as were at this place it is to be hoped that, when we
reach the Albert River again, we will be able to shoot great quantities
of them for fresh food.

The bank on which I marked the tree will, probably at no very distant
time, be chosen as the site of a homestead for a sheep establishment, as
it is surrounded by fine dry plains which are covered with good grasses,
among which I observed sufficient saline herbage to make me feel