Besides, as we were then only fifteen miles from a bend of the upper part of the Adelaide, which must receive the drainage of all that part of the country, it seemed improbable that any other large river existed in the neighbourhood.

Six miles from our furthest, which was about thirty miles from the entrance, we passed a small island.

The banks on either side of the inlet were, as usual, a thick grove of mangroves, except in one spot, a mile lower down, where we landed on our return for observations.

This we found to be a low cliffy projection of slate formation, whilst scattered over the face of the few miles of country, which we are able to explore, were small bits of quartz; large blocks also of which protruded occasionally through a light kind of mould.
APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY.
The country was a most thirsty-looking level, the low brushwood on which cracked and snapped as we walked through it, with a brittle dryness that testified how perfectly parched-up was everything.

A single spark would instantly have wrapped the whole face of the country in one sheet of fire.