I never enjoyed a better day's pheasant shooting in any preserve in England; and I may here remark that North-Western Australia is as good a country for sport in the shooting way as I am acquainted with; whilst for every kind of sport except wild-fowl shooting the southern part of Australia is the worst country in the world.

My bag being full, and my companions very hungry, I had no excuse for staying longer away from them, and therefore returned, although very loth to leave such beautiful scenery and such excellent sport.
FERTILE COUNTRY DESCRIED.
In the interval between the showers, and whilst the men were trying to kindle a fire, I ascended a sandstone range under the shelter of some rocks near the summit of which we were encamped; from this elevated position I saw a far better country to the south of us than any we had yet traversed; and the prospect was so cheering in this direction that I felt assured, when it was once gained with the horses, we should be able to travel on with comparative rapidity and facility.
NATIVE HAUNTS.
Having emptied my bag I started again to commence the exploration of the valley we were in.

It sloped first in a north-easterly and then in a nearly easterly direction; the river that ran through it was in some places almost dry, or was rather a chain of large ponds than a river, several of these ponds being more than a hundred yards across.

I followed the valley down for about five miles in the direction of Prince Regent's River and found to my surprise that this part was by no means thinly inhabited by natives; still, as none of the traces I had yet seen were very recent, I trusted that we should not fall in with any considerable body.
TRACES OF NATIVES.
At length however I came upon a spot which a number of them appeared to have quitted only an hour or two before, and where they had been sitting under a large tree at the edge of one of these ponds; their recent fire had been first slaked with water and sand then thrown over it.

I knew therefore that they had been disturbed, and most probably by my gun; but not before they had made a hearty meal of roasted fresh-water mussels (unios) and nuts of a kind which grew on a large shady tree in pods, like a tamarind pod, the kernel being contained in a shell, of which each pod held several, and the fruit tasting exactly like filberts.