(*Footnote. My immediate visit to Port Essington afforded me an opportunity of comparing the qualities of the two soils; and the result was that the richest land I saw there, in spite of the aid of manure, etc. was very inferior to that on the Plains of Promise.) We were now once more stepping out over a terra incognita; and though no alpine features greeted our eyes as they wandered eagerly over the vast level, all was clothed with the charm of novelty. The feelings of delight which are naturally aroused in those whose feet for the first time press a new and rich country, and which I have so often before endeavoured in vain to express, burst forth on this occasion with renewed intensity. At the end of nearly four miles we turned off to the westward for a rise at a short distance, concealing the line of trees that marked the course of the river, from which we had been gradually receding. We found it to be on the opposite side of a watercourse twenty-five feet deep. From its summit we got a view of the country to the south-west, over the growth of trees at the margin of the river.* (*Footnote. See the view annexed. ) On this rise we met an emu, which, after several bad shots, got away from the whole of us. This, in some measure was owing to our over-eagerness, as the bird was at first inclined to approach. Proceeding a little farther we observed a small lake bearing north half a mile. Attracted by the beauty of the vernal tints on its borders we went to taste the waters. On the same refreshing errand was a luckless beautiful slate-coloured egret, which Mr. Gore shot. Holding our west course we made the river at the end of another mile. Its size was reduced to a mere rivulet; being scarcely fifteen yards wide, with a depth of five feet. Yet it had greater velocity than we had before observed, running at the rate of a mile an hour, a clear babbling brook, over which, acacias and drooping gums formed a leafy tunnel; its course was still from the south. HALT THE PARTY AND PROCEED ALONE. Whilst the rest of the party halted I proceeded, with the freshest man,* in a southerly direction; urged on by what was, perhaps, now the unjustifiable hope of discovering some distant point rising above the far horizon as a definite result and reward of my exploration. It seemed, however, almost impossible that this same wearisome monotony could long continue; and I experienced much of that painful depressing excitement which is created by a series of similar impressions when we are longing for variety. (*Footnote. A marine, of the name of John Brown, possessing great powers of endurance. He died in 1845, in a situation I got him under the Trinity House, on his obtaining a pension for long servitude.)