test of his truth or falsehood. According to the same story the "Kindur" was the first river to be reached beyond these mountains, and, one way or other, the question could not now have long to wait for an answer. A river of some kind was the very thing wanted by the explorers, for they had passed through a rugged and waterless country. Were they now, at last, to drop upon the "Kindur?" Such a discovery would have been doubly welcome, for it would have relieved them from present distress, and proved the goal of a journey which, it was hoped, would place the laurel crown on the brow of the Major and sound the trumpet of freedom to his fifteen convict attendants. The 9th of January arrived, and this day was destined to feast the eyes of the weary travellers with the sudden appearance of a noble river, broader and deeper than the Namoi, and one of which Australia might well be proud. Was this the "Kindur" at last? Not for a moment. It flowed in the wrong direction, and lost much of its volume in its downward course; and Mitchell soon satisfied himself that it was nothing else than one of the many tributaries of the Darling. In fact, it had not the merit of an original discovery. This was the Gwydir, which had been crossed long ago by Allan Cunningham. Mitchell turned from it in disgust and made for the north, in the hope of hitting upon some discovery really worthy of the expedition. He was rewarded, in so far that he discovered an important river, called the Karaula by the natives, but now better known as the Macintyre.
