At one point of to-day's journey on a narrow neck of land, which was far from being the highest, I saw the ocean to the eastward, where it appeared close beneath my feet—and westward about fifty miles distance, at a place called Carwia or Carfwea—for I do not know the correct orthography of the name, which is a very puzzling one to spell, as we have no letters to represent the peculiar blending of the "r" with some other sound before the "w," it might as well be an "h" as an "f," but most Europeans, to make the matter easy, call it at once "Carfeea." We met a party of about a dozen natives, chiefly women, who were going to join the "Tower;" they said that the great party had left Mattamatta three days before, so that we were sure not to meet them,—a piece of intelligence I confess I was not sorry to receive.
Saturday, March 31st.—Continued our descent of the mountain, and entered the great plain of the Thames, or "Waiho," the most splendid piece of country I have met with for the purposes of colonization. This plain is, I should think, about one hundred miles long, and varying from twenty to thirty broad; it runs north and south, being bounded on the east by the perpendicular wall of the Arrohaw, and on the west by the mountains on the west coast. The river Thames runs through it, and is deep enough to be navigated by track boats or light steamers for a great distance. At the place I crossed it was about five feet deep and one hundred yards wide; the stream is however so strong, in spite of the apparently perfect level of the country, that it would be useless to attempt ascending it by oars, or sails. The whole plain, with very little exception, is clear of wood:—it is abundantly watered, and would I think be one of the most splendid situations for a colony that could be found in the whole world. It must not be considered that this plain belongs to the river, for it is evident that such
