We had witnessed migration after migration of the feathered tribes, to that point to which we were so anxious to push our way.

Flights of cockatoos, of parrots, of pigeons, and of bitterns; birds also whose notes had cheered us in the wilderness, all had taken the same road to a better and more hospitable region." And now the water began to sink with frightful rapidity, and all thought that surely the end must be near.

Hoping against hope, Sturt laid his plans to start as soon as the drought broke up.

He himself was to proceed north and west, whilst poor Poole, reduced to a frightful condition by scurvy, was to be sent carefully back to the Darling, as the only means of saving his life.
[Illustration.

Poole's Grave and Monument, near Depot Glen, Tibbuburra, New South Wales.