The banks, as far as we examined, are rich, but, (as may be readily imagined, from the precipitous nature of the country,) very narrow; the surrounding hills, however, are of good soil, and might easily be turned to some account. The trees, principally blue gum, are the finest I have ever seen.
Leaving this river, which was named the Denmark (in compliment to a physician of the British fleet,) we proceeded south-east, crossing, in our way, several streams of pure water, which might, according to Australian phraseology, be called rivers.
This day's journey was, from the abrupt nature of the country, very fatiguing. The land on the hills was sometimes good, sometimes indifferent, but more frequently very barren. That of the valleys was, in general, of a fair quality. In the evening, we encamped near a stream, running through a valley—as all the others did—to the southward.
On Friday, at daybreak, we started; and Mokărē, having got on known ground, now led the way. After having travelled four hours, at a pretty brisk pace, we arrived at a river, upwards of fifty yards wide, and apparently deep, flowing slowly to the southward. We walked along its right bank, and, in a short time, reaching its mouth, we observed that it poured its waters into the inlet seen from Mount Lindesay, Unfortunately, a bar of sand runs across it,—there were not more than eighteen inches or two feet water, where we passed over: immediately inside, there is from three
