The Murray is a noble stream; but, at the present day, not a particularly interesting, or, at any rate, a highly picturesque river. The banks throughout are pretty, sometimes even romantic, but from the sameness of the forest trees—consisting chiefly of gum tree glades—and the expanse of flooded surface through which, at this season, the vessel passed, the scenery cannot but be regarded as generally tame. The reaches, nevertheless, at times are fine, and, here and there, cliffs of moderate height, varied colours, and perhaps grotesque shape, occur to break the monotony of an otherwise interminable flat. The volume of water rolled down by the Murray is imposing, the breadth of the stream after passing Lake Alexandrina (a sheet of water about thirty miles in length and twenty-five in breadth), averaging from 150 to 300 yards; the current is ordinarily from two to three knots per hour; and the course of the river, after the first 250 miles, tortuous in the extreme. The steamer generally came to anchor in the evening, about nine or ten o’clock; and started in the morning, before dawn. Wood had been provided, at certain stations, by previous arrangement; at other points, parties from the vessel went ashore to provide fuel, the consumption of which averaged about three fourths of a ton per hour. It took 168 hours steaming to reach the Darling, where we arrived at midnight, on the 6th of September, under sail and steam; the distance being calculated at about 650 miles from the Goolwa. On the point of reaching this station, we managed to upset a native canoe or “mungo,” propelled by a black and his “lubra,” or spouse. The former scrambled up the vessel, but the female was compelled to swim to the shore. The man being asked why he had not attempted to assist his dusky helpmate, answered, with the utmost composure, “Plenty cold; black lubra walk well!” So much for native gallantry. The blacks on the Murray are not now so numerous as formerly, infanticide prevailing among them, it is said, to a great extent; indeed, we observed but one child in our passage up to the Murrumbidgee. The principal stations, up to this point of the voyage, had been Mr. Mason’s, Wellington; Mr. Walsh’s; Mr. Scott’s, Moorundee; Messrs. Chambers’, Wigley’s, Chapmans’, Moruna, the Jackson’s (commonly called Bob and Harry’s), and the inn at the Darling (McLeod’s). Here blacks were generally found in greater or less numbers; and, as far as we could learn, they had everywhere proved of service to the settlers. They are protected by the Government, and to a certain extent fed and clothed; but the issues of blankets and flour, in South Australia at least, are as yet too scanty. Several of these people were taken by Captain Cadell up the river, to assist his crew in procuring fuel, and they proved useful and obliging upon these occasions.