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June 4. — This morning the weather appeared tolerably fine, and I landed with the French doctor for the purpose of walking across to Thistle Cove. After travelling four miles over a sandy heathy country, we arrived at the pretty little fresh water lake, so accurately described by Captain Flinders, and which I had so anxiously looked forward to attaining, that we might halt to rest, and recruit the horses. There is no timber around the lake, beyond a few xamias, grass trees, and some stunted tea-trees; neither was there much grass. In other respects, I could not have pitched upon a more favourable place to have halted at: for near the lake abounded the flag reed, of which the root was so valuable for food. This one article would have supported us well during our stay here, whilst the many bluff rocks, with deep calm water close to them, extending all around the promontory which projected into the sea, and round the bay, held out great promise that fish could readily have been caught. Ducks were also numerous in the lake, and kangaroos on shore. The day turned out very bleak and wet, and we both got thoroughly soaked through before we got back to the vessel, which was not until about two in the afternoon; I was then obliged to borrow a dry suit from the Captain, whilst my own clothes were drying.