As we crossed these plains we flushed numerous pigeons--a pair, indeed, from under almost every bush of rhagodia that we passed.

This bird was similar to one Mr.Browne had shot in the pine forest, and this was clearly the breeding season; there were no young birds, and in most of the nests only one egg.

We should not, however, have encumbered ourselves with any of the young at that time, but looked to a later period for the chance of being able to take some of that beautiful description of pigeon home with us.

The old birds rose like grouse, and would afford splendid shooting if found in such a situation at any other period than that of incubation; at other times however, as I shall have to inform the reader, they congregate in vast flocks, and are migratory.
Fortunately, at that part of the creek where the party struck it, there was a small pool of water, at which we gladly halted for the night, having travelled about 28 miles; our journey to Flood's Creek on the following day was comparatively short.

Flood had not at all exaggerated his account of this creek, which, as an encouragement, I named after him.
It was certainly a most desirable spot to us at that time; with plenty of water, it had an abundance of feed along its banks; but our tents were pitched on the rough stony ground flanking it, under cover of some small rocky hills.