July 24.—­At day-light we attempted to construct our bridge near to the place where we were encamped, but as fast as the trees were felled they were swept away by the rapidity of the current; the breadth on an average being now, by reason of the flood, nearly sixty feet, and the trees on the immediate or proper banks being several feet in the water:  we were therefore obliged to fell trees farther inland, and these, as before remarked, were swept away, falling short of the land on the opposite side.

All our attempts to construct a bridge during the day were fruitless, as the flood was too violent to allow the trees to take firm hold:  in searching the banks of the stream for a proper place for our purpose, an arm nearly as large as the main branch up which we had travelled was discovered about a mile down the stream on the north side; it ran to the north-north-west, and then apparently trended more westerly.  Thus is this vast body of water, all originating in the Eastern or Blue Mountains, conveyed over these extensive marshes, rendering uninhabitable a tract which they might reasonably be expected to fertilize.

Finding that in the present high state of the water we could not succeed in crossing the river, at least near our present station, and that if we returned lower down we should experience a farther difficulty in crossing the north-west arm recently seen, it was judged best to try if we could get over the branch on the south side, and swim the horses over in the main stream near the mouth of the branch.  We could not, however, find any tree on this side that would reach across; although it was quite dark before we gave over the attempt for the night.

July 25.—­Every means was again employed in constructing the bridge over the south-west branch.  The stream had fallen but a few inches, and continues to fall too slowly to permit us to entertain any hopes of crossing it in this vicinity.

Our bridge was finished by one o’clock, but it being too late to cross the horses and baggage this evening, I went in company with Byrne on horseback to view the country to the southward.  After going about two miles and a quarter south of the tent, we were most agreeably surprised with the sight of a very fine lake; we rode down to its shores, which on this side were hard and sandy beaches.  On the south side the shores were bolder, being red clay cliffs.  We now found that the creek or arm which I had supposed to be the source whence Campbell Lake was supplied, had not any communication with it, but supplied the lake we now saw:  a low ridge of hills, bare of trees except small cypresses in clumps, lying between the two lakes, which were distant from each other two or three miles.  Finding I might obtain a better view by going to the point of these bare hills about five miles westward, I rode thither along the margin of the lake, but quitted it to ascend the hill, which was about two miles and a half from it.  The hill was but low in comparison with Goulburn’s