I traced a creek at the east side of Macarthur's Peak to its head, and went down another on its west side to a large plain, which seemed to be limited to the westward by openly-timbered ridges. As we advanced into the plain, a most remarkable and interesting view of a great number of peaks and domes opened to the N.N.W. and N.W. There seemed no end of apparently isolated conical mountains, which, as they resemble very much the chain of extinct volcanos in Auvergne, might easily be mistaken for such; but, after changing the aspect a little, they assumed the appearance of immense tents, with very short ridge-poles. To the most remarkable of them, which had the appearance of an immense cupola, I gave the name of Gilbert's Dome, after my companion. Far to the N.N.W. a blue peak was seen rising behind a long range of mountains, and from the latter a valley seemed to descend to the W.N.W. A round hill, of a reddish colour, to the south or south-west of Macarthur's Peak, was called Mount Lowe, after R. Lowe, Esq. of Sydney. The general direction of these mountains seems to be from N. 60 degrees W. to S. 60 degrees E., and, if we compare them with the line of the coast in the neighbourhood of Broadsound and Shoalwater bay, bearing due east, it will be found that they are parallel to its direction. All the creeks which we examined, and which fell to the south-west, were entirely dry. On the ridges which bounded the plain to the westward, I met with Acacia pendula; and I may here remark that this appears to be the most northern limit of its habitat. Here also, in an old camp of the natives, we found a heap of muscle-shells, which were probably taken from some very deep and shady holes in the creek, but which were now without the slightest indication of moisture. Water failing us on the western slopes, I crossed to the east side, under the idea and hope that the north and north-east sides of the range, from being more exposed to the sea winds, would be better provided with water; and, passing to the left of Calvert's Peak, over low basaltic ridges, I came to a creek with a shallow bed, winding between basaltic ridges to the north-east. These ridges were lightly timbered, and covered with an abundance of dry grass: dark-green patches of scrub raised our hopes from time to time, and quickened our pace; but in vain, for no water was to be found. Fatigued and exhausted by thirst, both rider and horse wished for an early halt. We stopped, therefore, and hobbled our horses; and, when I had spread my saddle, my head sank between its flaps, and I slept soundly until the cool night-air, and the brilliant moonlight, awoke me. I found my poor companion, Mr. Calvert, suffering severely from thirst, more so indeed than I did; but I was unfortunately labouring under a most painful diarrhoea, which of itself exhausted my strength. In the morning, to add to our distress, our horses were not to be found, and Mr. Calvert had a walk of four hours to get