We continued along the bank of the second lagoon which, turning towards the east, threatened to stop our progress. At length however we arrived at the termination of the water, and passing over the soft mud we proceeded southward to look for the Gwydir, which I knew could not then be far distant. We rode through groves of casuarinae, and over small plains and burnt flats. In one of the thickets we saw two small kangaroos, the first observed since our arrival on the banks of this large river. Emus appeared to be numerous but very wild; pelicans abounded on the lagoons, and seemed to be remarkably tame, considering the remains of them which we saw at the old fires of the natives. It was obvious on various occasions however that the first appearance of such large quadrupeds as bullocks and horses did not scare the emu or kangaroo, but that, on the contrary, when they would have run at the first appearance of their enemy, man, when advancing singly, they would allow him to approach mounted, and even to dismount, fire from behind a horse, and load again, without attempting to run off. JUNCTION OF THE GWYDIR. At length we perceived that the ground sloped towards the south, and at the distance of about four miles from where we had slept we made the Gwydir. The course of this river was as tortuous as at our last camp upon it, which could not be distant more than fourteen or fifteen miles. The volume of water was so much reduced that in shallows, where alone the current could be perceived, I could step across it. This stream could not therefore contribute much to that I was tracing, and in search of which I now turned westward. On this course the windings of the Gwydir often came in my way, so that I turned to north 25 degrees east, in which direction I at length reached the large river, which had been the object of our excursion. Here it was, indeed, a noble sheet of water, and I regretted much that this had not been our first view of it, that we might have realised, at least for a day or two, all that we had imagined of the Kindur. I now overlooked, from a bank seventy feet high, a river as broad as the Thames at Putney; and on which the goodly waves, perfectly free from fallen timber, danced in full liberty. A singular-looking diving-bird, carrying only its head above water, gave a novel appearance to this copious reservoir: and there was a rich alluvial flat on the opposite bank.