We had not travelled two miles, when in crossing, as we imagined, one of its bights, we found ourselves checked by a broad river.

A single glimpse of it was sufficient to tell us it was the Darling.

At a distance of more than ninety miles nearer its source, this singular river still preserved its character, so strikingly, that it was impossible not to have recognised it in a moment.

The same steep banks and lofty timber, the same deep reaches, alive with fish, were here visible as when we left it.
A hope naturally arose to our minds, that if it was unchanged in other respects, it might have lost the saltness that rendered its waters unfit for use; but in this we were disappointed--even its waters continued the same.

As it was impossible for us to cross the Darling, I determined on falling back upon our last encampment, which was at a most Convenient distance, and of concerting measures there for our future movements.