189 
Interior of New Holland. 
found ourselves on the banks of the Williorara. A strong cur¬ 
rent was running into it from the river, and I saw at once, that 
instead of being a mountain stream, it was merely a back-water. 
The floods, therefore, which had swollen the Darling, evidently 
came from some more distant point. We were obliged to turn 
back to the river for feed for the cattle, and ultimately encamped 
near the mouth of the Williorara, Sir Thomas Mitchell’s last 
camp on the Darling bearing about N. 22° E , distant 2J miles. 
The reader will judge our disappointment on finding our hopes 
thus annihilated of being able to make our way into the hilly 
country. So far from the Williorara affording any facility, we 
were now informed by the natives that it was merely a channel of 
communication between the river and the Lakes Cawndilla and 
Menandiche, the former of which being to the south-west of us, 
we were in a bight. The reports of the natives of the distant 
interior was most discouraging. They, one and all, seemed to 
have an absolute dread of it; they said there was neither water 
or grass there; that we should find no wood to make a fire; that 
the rocks would tumble upon us, and that we should all die. 
The course of the Darling, however, from this point, in long. 
142 26 , and lat. 32“ 26’, following it upwards was nearly N.E. 
As such a course would necessarily take me out of that in which 
I was desirous of going, I at once determined, notwithstanding 
these discouraging reports, to strike for the hills as soon as I 
should have ascertained something more of the nature of the 
country between us and them. On the 11th, I sent Mr. Poole to 
the range (which I no longer doubted being the southern extremity 
of Scrope’s Range) with Mr. Stuart and a native of the place. 
We had had some warm days and hot winds as we came up the 
Darling, and had entirely lost the frosty mornings that used to 
brace us for the mid-day sun. But on our arrival at Williorara, 
we had some cold weather. The boiling point was 112. The 
thermometer stood at 66—the wind at S.W.—and with this a 
light rain with some thunder. I was now anxious to move the 
camp out of the corner into which we had been drawn ; and with 
a view to ascertain whether there was any feed for the cattle near 
Cawndilla Lake, and how far the back waters of the Darling had 
