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348 nearly opposite Melville’s Island, a promontory lying midway between the Adelaide and West Alligator Rivers. On either side of Point Hotham were two inlets of the Gulf, which Mr. Stuart named respectively Chambers Bay and Finke Bay, and the river, whose course lay parallel with his track for thirty or forty miles, was none other than the Adelaide.

Not satisfied with merely reaching the sea on Van Diemen’s Gulf, Stuart proceeded alone for some distance towards the Gulf of Carpentaria; but, as his diary has not yet been published, we cannot say what were the results of his explorations in that direction. Before referring to the nature of the country passed through, and the details of the return journey, we may remark that a line of route has now been laid down from Adelaide to Port Essington, which has been traversed by Stuart and his parties half a dozen times, and that—thanks to the efforts of Kinlay and Burke—a track has been made traversable even in the driest seasons, terminating not on the Gulf of Carpentaria, where the low and swampy nature of the sea-shore would offer great obstacles to the navigation of ships trading with India and China, but on the coast six degrees beyond the head of the Gulf.

Past the dense belt of scrub, which none but the stout heart and the strong arm would have persevered for six weeks in cutting through, Stuart emerged into the country long since known to us by the discoveries of Gregory and Leichardt, by both of whom the Roper River was mentioned, especially by the latter, whose route to the sea-coast lay along its banks. Like them, he was much impressed with the fertility of the soil, the dense tropical vegetation in some places greatly impeding their progress, and the palm trees giving quite an oriental aspect to the scene. The rocks also are described as being similar to the auriferous strata of the south and eastern coast.

The return journey was made in seventeen weeks, great efforts being used to push on as hard as possible, since the water was drying up, and the horses were nearly exhausted.

When Stuart left the furthest out station, he took with him seventy-one horses, and was enabled to bring back forty-eight, owing to the happy circumstance of never having been short of water, save for two nights, during the whole outward route.

On the homeward journey they were not so fortunate, since, on one occasion, they were two days and a half without finding any; but, altogether, the privations experienced on this trip were nothing to those met with on his first exploration, when at one time he had been one hundred and eleven hours without water. The provisions are stated to have lasted well.

Still more are we surprised to learn that the whole party returned in the most perfect health, except Stuart himself.

Starting from Adelaide, very much impaired by his previous trips, besides meeting with an accident to his hand, from which he had not recovered even on his return, Stuart overtaxed his iron frame, and became a victim to scurvy to such an extent that, during nearly the whole of the journey back, he could neither sit nor stand, but was carried in an ambulance or litter swung between two horses.

As he drew nearer the settled districts of South Australia, his strength somewhat returned, and when he reached the Burra he was able to reply to the first of many addresses which awaited him. One statement which fell from his lips evinced that the indomitable pluck was not yet extinguished, though his body was so weak from scurvy and exhaustion that he had to be supported while standing. Alluding to the probability of this being his last trip, he added, “Unless some one goes and accomplishes more than I have done, when I shall have to try again, for I will not be surpassed in the field of exploration.”

All along the line of route—at every station on the railway—crowds of people pressed forward to welcome home the great explorer. Wherever he passed, everything and everybody wore a holiday aspect; flags were flying, bands were playing, “See the conquering Hero comes,” where but a week before the honoured remains of the late Victorian explorers, Burke and Wills, had been carried in solemn procession to Port Adelaide en route for Melbourne.

When at last Stuart reached his adopted city, Adelaide gave itself up to the wildest intoxication of joy; the railway-platform, the streets, the very houses on the road, were crammed with people anxious to catch a glimpse of the man who had travelled through from south to north, and back again, so that it was with great difficulty that he was conveyed to the house of his late patron, Mr. James Chambers, where, for the ensuing month, strict rest and silence were enjoined to ensure restoration to health.

It will be remembered that during the years 1859 and 1860, Burke and Stuart, whose names have now become imperishable in the annals of Australia, had been appointed to the command of expeditions for exploring the interior, and finding out a practicable route to the Gulf of Carpentaria; the one from South Australia, headed by Stuart, was until this last expedition maintained solely by private resources, yet we all know how, with a few horses, two companions, and very slender means, this experienced bushman pushed to within 150 miles of the northern coast. When he returned from his second unsuccessful attempt, Burke had left Melbourne, as described in our March number of 1862, at the head of a magnificent cavalcade, sufficient it was supposed to force the desert to give up its long hidden secret; and, afraid lest the honour and fruits of all his previous laborious researches should be snatched from him when just about to win the prize, his own Government despatched Stuart at the head of twelve men and seventy-eight horses. How eminently successful he has been we have already detailed.

Perhaps much of the success of the Adelaide expedition has been owing to the extensive knowledge and long experience of the bush possessed by Mr. Stuart, together with the compact nature of his party: whereas Burke, unflinchingly brave and heroic, and undoubtedly successful, as testified by the very bare and barren fact that he did succeed in penetrating to the tidal flow of the Albert River on the north coast, knew nothing of