pigeon, quite new to me; it was of a dark-brown colour, mottled under
the throat and on the breast; it had also a high top-knot. It is
considerably smaller than the Sturt pigeon of his Central Australian
expedition.

It was now the 28th of August, and the temperature of the atmosphere
was getting warmer. Journeying now again about north-west, we reached
a peculiar pointed hill with the Finke at its foot. We passed over the
usual red sandhill country covered with the porcupine grass,
characteristic of the Finke country, and saw a shallow sheet of yellow
rain water in a large clay pan, which is quite an unusual feature in
this part of the world, clay being so conspicuous by its absence. The
hill, when we reached it, assumed the appearance of a high pinnacle;
broken fragments of rock upon its sides and summit showed it too rough
and precipitous to climb with any degree of pleasure. I named it
Christopher's Pinnacle, after a namesake of mine. The range behind it
I named Chandler's Range. For some miles we had seen very little
porcupine grass, but here we came into it again, to the manifest
disgust of our horses. We had now a line of hills on our right, with
the river on our left hand, and in six or seven miles came to the west
end of Chandler's Range, and could see to the north and north-west
another, and much higher the line running parallel to Chandler's
Range, but extending to the west as far as I could see. The country
hereabouts has been nearly all burnt by the natives, and the horses
endeavour to pick roads where the dreaded triodia has been destroyed.

We passed a few clumps of casuarinas and a few stunted trees with
broad, poplar-like leaves. Travelling for twelve miles on this
bearing, we struck the Finke again, running nearly north and south.
Here the river had a stony bed with a fine reach of water in it; so