mounted it;slept at its foot;and on the following day penetrated some miles westward or inland of it until we were stopped by a mountainous country,which our scarcity of provisions,joined to the terror of a river at our back,whose sudden rising is almost beyond computation,hindered us from exploring.
To the elevation which bounded our research we gave the name of Knight Hill,in honour of the trusty sergeant who had been the faithful indefatigable companion of all our travels.
This excursion completely settled the long contested point about the Hawkesbury and Nepean.We found them to be one river.Without knowing it,Mr.Dawes and myself had passed Richmond Hill almost a year before (in August 1790),and from there walked on the bank of the river to the spot where my discovery of the Nepean happened,in June 1789.Our ignorance arose from having never before seen the hill,and from the erroneous position assigned to it by those who had been in the boats up the river.
Except the behaviour of some natives whom we met on the river,which it would be ingratitude to pass in silence,nothing particularly worthy of notice occurred on this expedition.
When we had reached within two miles of Richmond Hill,we heard a native call.
We directly answered him and conversed across the river for some time.
At length he launched his canoe and crossed to us without distrust or hesitation.We had never seen him before;but he appeared to know our friend Gombeeree,of whom he often spoke.He said his name was Deedora.
He presented us with two spears and a throwing-stick,and in return we gave him some bread and beef.Finding that our route lay up the river,he offered to accompany us and,getting into his canoe,paddled up abreast of us.When we arrived at Richmond Hill it became necessary to cross the river;but the question was,how this should be effected?
Deedora immediately offered his canoe.We accepted of it and,Mr.Dawes and the soldier putting their clothes into it,pushed it before them,and by alternately wading and swimming,soon passed.On the opposite shore sat several natives,to whom Deedora called,by which precaution the arrival of the strangers produced no alarm.On the contrary,they received them with every mark of benevolence.Deedora,in the meanwhile,sat talking with the sergeant and me.Soon after,another native,named Morunga,brought back the canoe,and now came our turn to cross.The sergeant (from a foolish trick which had been played upon him when he was a boy) was excessively timorous of water,and could not swim.Morunga offered to conduct him,and they got into the canoe together;but,his fears returning,he jumped out and refused to proceed.I endeavoured to animate him,and Morunga ridiculed his apprehensions,making signs of the ease and dispatch with which he would land him;but he resolved to paddle over by himself,which,by dint of good management and keeping his position very steadily,he performed.It was now become necessary to bring over the canoe a third time for my accommodation,which was instantly done,and I entered it with Deedora.But,like the sergeant,I was so disordered at seeing the water within a hair's breadth of the level of our skiff (which brought to my remembrance a former disaster I had experienced on this river)
that I jumped out,about knee-deep,and determined to swim over,which I effected.My clothes,half our knapsacks,and three of our guns yet remained to be transported across.These I recommended to the care of our grim ferrymen,who instantaneously loaded their boat with them and delivered them on the opposite bank,without damage or diminution.
