We entered Storm Bay after dark against a strong North-West wind, which quite vindicated the title of the bay to the name it bears, and so much delayed our progress, that it was morning before we were abreast of the Iron Pot lighthouse at the entrance of the Derwent River, and after dark before we reached Sullivan's cove, Hobart.

Although the passage up the river was tedious and annoying from the adverse and squally wind that prevailed throughout the day, we were almost repaid for the delay by the scenery each tack brought to our view, and to which the remembered aspect of the shores we had so recently quitted, seemed by contrast to add a yet more delightful verdure.

As we proceeded, we noticed since our last visit, several bare patches in the woodlands, where the axe and the brand of the enterprising colonists had prepared the way for that cultivation under the influence of which the landscape wore in places an almost English aspect. This fancied resemblance—inspiring by turns delightful anticipation and fond regret—was heightened by the occasional addition of many pretty little cottages scattered along the sloping banks of the river, and adding to the luxuriant appearance of the country, the peaceful grace and sanctity of home.

July 19.

We were detained at Hobart till the 19th, the bad state of the weather rendering it impossible to complete the requisite observations for rating chronometers, etc.

MOUNT WELLINGTON.

We had two or three snowstorms during the time, but even in fine weather the proximity of Mount Wellington, towering above Hobart, and throwing its strange square-headed shadow across the still waters of Sullivan's cove, must always render Fort Mulgrave an unfavourable spot for observations, from its arresting the progress of each passing cloud. The pleasure of our return was very much enhanced by the kind hospitality with which we were received by the inhabitants, and the officers of Her Majesty's 21st regiment. From Sir John Franklin the Governor, we experienced all the attention and courtesy—all the frank and generous hospitality which it was in his power to bestow. Had we been without the claims of previous acquaintance to have recommended us to his best offices, the fact that our voyage was intended to advance the cause of science, would have been quite sufficient to interest in our welfare, one who has achieved a reputation as enduring as it is honourable, amid the perils and trials connected with an Arctic campaign of discovery.

The unfavourable state of the weather also prevented us from visiting and enjoying the alpine scenery in the neighbourhood of Hobart.

KANGAROO HUNT.

We did, however, get a few miles from the town upon one occasion, when the fox-hounds of a gentleman, Mr. Gregson, who will be long remembered in the colony for his pedestrian and equestrian performances—met in the neighbourhood to hunt the kangaroo. A thoroughly English appreciation of all that promised sport, led a large party of us to join the meet, at a place called the Neck. The turnout was by no means despicable: the hounds were well bred, though rather small—perhaps an advantage in the sort of country over which their work lies. A tolerable muster of red coats gave life and animation to the scene, and forcibly reminded us of a coverside at home.

The hounds found a large kangaroo almost immediately upon throwing off, and went away with him in good earnest. There was a burning scent, and from the nature of the country, over which we went for some distance without a check, the riding was really desperate. The country was thickly wooded, with open spaces here and there, in which fallen trees lay half hidden by long grass. Riding to the hounds was therefore as necessary as dangerous, for once out of sight it was almost impossible to overtake or fall in with them. Most of the field rode boldly and well, yet I remarked one or two casualties: early in the run, a gentleman was swept off his horse by the projecting branch of a tree, under which he was going at a reckless pace, and another had his hat perforated immediately above the crown of his head. Yet notwithstanding the annoyance of ferrying our horses across the Derwent, we returned to Hobart, very much pleased with the day's sport.*

(*Footnote. In the first volume of the Tasmanian Journal, will be found an animated description of Kangaroo-hunting with these hounds, by the Honourable H. Elliot, who mentions that on one occasion a large kangaroo gave them a run of eighteen miles.)

WHITE KANGAROO.

In a gentleman's house there, I saw for the first time, a specimen of an Albino or white variety of kangaroo, Halmaturus bennettii.* Another object that interested me greatly was a quarry of travertine limestone, in the neighbourhood of Hobart, where I saw the impression** of leaves of plants, not in existence at present, and of a few shells of ancient species.

(*Footnote. One of this rare kind, was presented by Sir John Franklin to her Majesty, in whose menagerie at Windsor it died, and was sent afterwards to the British Museum, where it now may be seen.)

(**Footnote. Drawings of these impressions, together with the shells will be found in Count Strzelecki's scientific work.)

SAIL FROM HOBART.

We sailed from Hobart on the 19th of July and carried a strong fair wind to within a few days' sail of Sydney, when we experienced a current that set us 40 miles South-East in 24 hours; this was the more extraordinary as we did not feel it before, and scarcely afterwards; and our course being parallel to the shore, was not likely to have brought us suddenly within the influence of the currents said to prevail along the coast. The ship's position was 40 miles east of Jervis Bay when we first met it.

July 24.

This morning the clearness of the atmosphere enabled us at an elevation of 50 feet, to distinguish the light near the entrance of Sydney Harbour, while at a distance of thirty miles from it. Its site has been admirably chosen for indicating the position of the port from a distance at sea, but it has been placed too far from the entrance to be of much service to vessels when close in shore.* The low land in the vicinity of Sydney and Botany Bay, presents a striking contrast with the coast of the Illawarra district, a little further southwards; where the sea washes the base of a lofty range of hills, which sweeping round some distance in the rear of the two former places, leaves an extensive tract of low country between them and the sea. Upon the summit of these hills there rest almost invariably huge clouds, which serve even through the gloom of the darkest night, to assure the anxious navigator of his position.

(*Footnote. Some years since a ship with convicts was driven at night by a South-East gale, close in with the light, and was obliged to run for the harbour, but being then without anything to guide her into the entrance, was wrecked on the south point. The loss of life was dreadful. The light lately erected near the Sow and Pigs reef, has in some measure remedied the evil here pointed out: but being too far within, and on the south side of the entrance, it is not made out till, with southerly winds, a ship has approached dangerously close to the North Head.)

APPROACH TO SYDNEY.

On approaching Sydney, a stranger cannot fail of being delighted with his first glance at the noble estuary which spreads before and around him. After sailing along a coastline of cliffs some 200 feet in height, and in general effect and outline not unlike those of Dover, he observes an apparent breach in the sea-wall, forming two abrupt headlands, and ere he has time to speculate upon the cause of that fancied ruin, his ship glides between the wave-worn cliffs into the magnificent harbour of Port Jackson. The view which solicits the eye of the sea-wearied voyager as he proceeds up the harbour, is indeed well calculated to excite a feeling of mingled admiration and delight—the security and capacity of the port—its many snug coves and quiet islets with their sloping shores, sleeping upon the silver tide—pretty white cottages and many English-looking villas peeping out here and there from their surrounding shrubberies, and the whole canopied by a sky of ethereal blue, present a picture which must at once enchant the most fastidious observer.

We found lying in the famous cove of Sydney, H.M.S. Alligator and Britomart, commanded by Captain Sir Gordon Bremer, and Lieutenant (now Captain) Owen Stanley, going to form a settlement at Port Essington on the North coast; an expedition of much interest, particularly to us, from having some old shipmates engaged in it.

CONTRAST WITH SOUTH AMERICA.

On first arriving at Sydney from South America, I was much struck with the strange contrast its extensive and at the same time youthful appearance presented to the decrepit and decaying aspect of the cities on that continent. We had then been visiting colonies and settlements founded centuries ago, by a nation at that time almost supreme in European influence, and planted with every circumstance of apparent advantage upon the shores of a fertile and luxurious continent given by the immortal Genoese to the crown of Spain. We had found them distracted by internal commotions, disgraced by ignorance, debased by superstition, and defiled by slavery.

COLONISATION.

In Sydney we beheld with wonder what scarce half a century had sufficed to effect; for where almost within the memory of man the savage ranged the desert wastes and trackless forests, a noble city has sprung as though by magic from the ground, which will ever serve both as a monument of English enterprise, and as a beacon from whence the light of Christian civilisation shall spread through the dark and gloomy recesses of ignorance and guilt. The true history of our Australian possessions; the causes which have led to their settlement; the means by which they have been established; the circumstances by which they have been influenced; and the rapid, nay, unexampled prosperity to which they have attained; present some of the most curious and most important laws of colonisation to our notice. Without attempting so far to deviate from my present purpose as to enter here on a deduction from the data to which I have alluded, it cannot be denied that, in the words of an eloquent writer in Blackwood, "a great experiment in the faculty of renovation in the human character, has found its field in the solitudes of this vast continent: that the experiment has succeeded to a most unexampled and unexpected degree: and that the question is now finally decided between severity and discipline." What else remains, what great designs and unfathomed purposes, are yet reserved to grace this distant theatre, I pause not now to guess. The boldest conjecture would probably fall very far short of the truth. It is sufficient for us to know that Providence has entrusted to England a new empire in the Southern seas. Nor can we doubt that there as elsewhere throughout the various regions of the habitable globe, the same indomitable spirit which has achieved so many successes, will accompany those whom heaven has appointed as pioneers, in that march of moral regeneration and sound improvement long promised to the repentant children of earth.

QUARANTINE ESTABLISHMENT.

We were sorry to find that it had been necessary to form a quarantine establishment in the North Harbour, in consequence of the diseases brought to the country by emigrant ships. A number of tombstones, whitening the side of a hill, mark the locality, and afford a melancholy evidence of the short sojourn in the land of promise which has been vouchsafed to some.

EXPEDITION TO PORT ESSINGTON.

It not being the favourable season for commencing operations in Bass Strait, we remained at Sydney until November, and embraced the opportunity of clearing out the ship. Our stay was undiversified with incidents, and it may as well therefore be briefly passed over. Among the few occurrences worth mentioning, was the departure of the expedition sent out to form a settlement at Port Essington on the northern coast. Its object was simply military occupation, it having been deemed advisable about that time to assert practically the supremacy of Great Britain over the Continent by occupying some of its most prominent points; but as soon as its destination became known in the colony, several persons came forward as volunteer-settlers, and expressed the greatest anxiety to be allowed to accompany the expedition. Their views extended to the establishment of a trade with the islands in the Arafura sea; and certainly they would have been far more likely to draw forth the resources of the country, than a garrison, whose supplies are brought to them from a distance, whose presence holds out no inducement to traders, and who are not impelled by any anxiety for their own support to discover the riches of the soil. For these reasons the determination of Government not to throw open the lands, and their refusal to hold out the promise of protection to the individuals who expressed a desire to accompany the expedition, are greatly to be regretted. In a vast continent like Australia, so remarkably destitute of fixed inhabitants, it would seem that every encouragement should be afforded to persons desirous of locating themselves on unoccupied tracts. There is a great difference besides, between giving rise to delusive hopes—inducing people as it were under false pretences to repair to new settlements—and checking the spirit of colonisation when it manifests itself. Every young establishment must go through a certain process. It is necessary that some should pioneer the way for others; and endure hardships the beneficial results of which may be enjoyed only by their successors. Had advantage been taken of the enterprising spirit that prevailed at the time of which I speak, the germs of a fresh settlement would have been deposited at Port Essington, which must ultimately have risen into importance. A great stream of emigration was pouring into the south-eastern portion of Australia, and it would have been wise to open a channel by which some portion of it might have been drawn off to the northern coast. But such were not the views entertained by the authorities concerning this matter. They seemed apprehensive of incurring the blame of encouraging the speculating mania which raged so extensively at Sydney, and which has reacted with so pernicious an effect upon the colony.* the expedition accordingly retained its purely military character. However, I may add, that the Bishop of Australia attended to the spiritual wants of the settlement by sending with it a church in frame.

(*Footnote. On our arrival at Sydney in 1838, we found speculation at its height: land-jobbers were carrying on a reckless and most gainful trade, utterly regardless of that revulsion they were doomed soon to experience. Town allotments that cost originally but 50 pounds were in some instances sold, three months afterwards, for ten times that sum. Yet amid all this appearance of excessive and unnatural prosperity there were not wanting those who foresaw and foretold an approaching change. To the withdrawal of the convicts, solely at the expressed wish of some of the most wealthy colonists, has been traced much of the decline that followed; and the more recent pages in the history of Sydney will fully bear out the opinions expressed by Captain Fitzroy when he visited it in 1836: he says, "It is difficult to believe that Sydney will continue to flourish in proportion to its rise. It has sprung into existence too suddenly. Convicts have forced its growth, even as a hot bed forces plants, and premature decay may be expected from such early maturity.")

BOTANY BAY.

During our stay at Sydney we paid a visit to Botany Bay, which from the circumstance of its being the point first touched at by Captain Cook, naturally possesses the greatest interest of any place in the neighbourhood. Our way thither lay over a sandy plain, into which the coast range of low hills subsides. There is little or no verdure to relieve the eye, which encounters aridity wherever it turns; and the sand being rendered loose by frequent traffic, the foot sinks at every step, so that the journey is disagreeable to both man and beast. These inconveniences, however, were soon forgotten on our arrival at our destination, amidst the feelings excited and the associations raised by the objects that presented themselves.

MONUMENT TO LA PEROUSE.

Within the entrance of the bay, on the northern side, stands a monument* erected to the memory of La Perouse, that being the last spot at which the distinguished navigator was heard of, from 1788, until 1826, when the Chevalier Dillon was furnished with a clue to his melancholy fate by finding the handle of a French sword fastened to another blade in the possession of a native of Tucopia, one of the Polynesian group. By this means he was enabled to trace him to the island of Mannicolo, on the reefs fronting which his ship was lost.

(*Footnote. On the eastern side is engraven: A la Memoire de Monsieur de la Perouse. Cette terre qu'il visita en MDCCLXXXVIII. est la derniere d'ou il a fait parvenir de ses nouvelles.

Also: Erige au nom de la France par les soins de MM. de Bougainville et Du Campier, commandant la fregate La Thetis, et la corvette L'Esperance, en relache au Port Jackson, en MDCCCXXV.

On the western side: This place, visited by Monsieur de la Perouse in the year MDCCLXXXVIII, is the last whence any accounts of him have been received.

Also: Erected in the name of France by MM. de Bougainville and du Campier, commanding the frigate the Thetis and the corvette the Hope, lying in Port Jackson, A.D. MDCCCXXV.

On the north: Le fondement pose en 1825; eleve en 1828.

On the south: Foundation laid in 1825, completed 1828.)

Close by, on the same point, stands the tomb of a French Catholic priest, named Le Receveur, who accompanied La Perouse, as naturalist, in his circumnavigation of the globe, and died at this great distance from his native land. A large stump of a tree rising near, "marks out the sad spot" where lie mouldering the bones of the wanderer in search of materials to enrich the stores of science. No doubt many a hope of future fame expired in that man's breast as he sank into his last sleep in a foreign clime, far from his home and friends and relations, such as his order allowed him to possess. The applause of the world, which doubtless he fancied would have greeted his labours at the end of his perilous journey, he was now robbed of; and he must have felt that few would ever recollect his name, save the rare voyager who, like myself, having encountered the same dangers that he had braved, should chance to read his short history on the narrow page of stone that rests above his grave.

CAPE SOLANDER.

Another object of greater interest to the Englishman is observable on Cape Solander, the opposite point of the bay. It is a plate set in the rock, recording the first visit of the immortal Cook, to whose enterprise the colonists are indebted for the land that yields them their riches, and which must now be invested in their eyes with all the sanctity of home. Surely it would become them to evince a more filial reverence for the man who must be regarded as in some respects the father of the colony. Let us hope that they will one day raise a monument to his memory, which to be worthy of him must be worthy of themselves—something to point out to future generations the spot at which the first white man's foot touched the shore, and where civilisation was first brought in contact with the new continent.

ILLAWARRA.

But though Botany Bay is interesting from the associations connected with it—I am quite serious, though the expression may raise a smile on some of my readers' lips—the tract of country best worth seeing in the neighbourhood of Sydney, is Illawarra, commonly called the Garden of New South Wales. By a change in the formation from sandstone to trap, a soil this here produced capable of supporting a vegetation equal in luxuriance to any within the tropics. In the deep valleys that intersect the country, the tree-fern attains a great stature, and throwing out its rich spreading fronds on all sides forms a canopy that perfectly excludes the piercing rays of even an Australian sun. It is impossible to describe the feelings of surprise and pleasure that are excited in the mind of the traveller as he descends into any one of these delightful dells: the contrast in the vegetable kingdom strikes him at once; he gazes around on the rich masses of verdure with astonishment, and strongly impressed with the idea that enchantment has been at work, involuntarily rubs his eyes and exclaims, "Am I in Australia or in the Brazils?"

ABORIGINES.

Few only of the aborigines of the neighbourhood of Sydney are now to be seen, and these are generally in an intoxicated state. Like most savage tribes they are passionately addicted to spiritous liquors, and seek to obtain it by any means in their power. Out of a sugar bag, with a little water, they manage to extract a liquor sufficient to make half a dozen of them tipsy; and in this condition, as I have observed, they most frequently presented themselves to my view. They are in every respect a weak, degraded, miserable race, and are anything but a favourable specimen of the benefits produced by intercourse with polished nations on an uncivilised people. However, the natives of Australia vary as strangely as its soil; the members of the tribes that dwell about Shoalhaven and the small southern ports, and come up in coasting vessels, are good-looking, useful fellows, and may hereafter be made much of. I noticed also, in my circumnavigation of the continent, a remarkable diversity in the character of the natives, some being most kindly disposed, while others manifested the greatest hostility and aversion. My whole experience teaches me that these were not accidental differences, but that there is a marked contrast in the dispositions of the various tribes, for which I will not attempt to account. I leave in the hands of ethnologists to determine whether we are to seek the cause in minute variations of climate or in other circumstances, physical or historical. This I can say, that great pains were formerly taken to civilize the natives of Sydney, gardens were given them, and numerous attempts made to inculcate habits of order, and communicate a knowledge of European arts; but no advantageous results ensued, and it was at length deemed impossible not only to improve them, but even to prevent their deterioration. I cannot determine whether this evinces a natural inaptitude in the savage to learn, or too great impatience in the teachers to witness the fruits of their labours, and a proneness to be discouraged by difficulties.

"IS THIS GRASS?"

In the journal of my residence at Sydney I find as the result of one day's experience, the following laconic and somewhat enigmatical memorandum: "Is this grass?" The question implies a doubt, which it would not be easy for any person unacquainted with the circumstances of time and place, to solve: but the reader, when he has seen the explanation, will understand why very pleasing associations are connected with this brief note. I was going down to the jetty late one evening, when I met a party just landed, evidently complete strangers in this quarter of the world. Their wandering and unsteady glances would have convinced me of this fact, had their whole appearance left any doubt about the matter: among them were some ladies, one of whom suddenly detached herself from her companions, and directed as it were by instinct through the gloom, hastened towards a few sods of turf, pressed them exaltingly with her foot, and exclaimed in a light, joyous, happy voice—through which other emotions than that of mere gladness struggled—"Is this grass?" The words were nothing. They might have been uttered in a thousand different tones and have not fixed themselves on my memory; but as they fell in accents of delight and gratitude from the lips of the speaker, they told a whole story, and revealed an entire world of feeling. Never shall I forget the simple expression of this newcomer, whose emotions on first feeling the solid earth beneath her tread, and touching a remembrance of the land she had left in quest of another home, will be incomprehensible to no one who has crossed the ocean.

CAPTAIN KING.

We met several persons at Sydney from whom we received valuable information, and particularly Captain King, who, as the reader may recollect, commanded the first expedition on which the Beagle was employed. His great scientific attainments must ever attach respect to his name, and his explorations on the Australian coast, previous to the survey in which we were engaged, together with his father's services as Governor of New South Wales, give him and his children a lasting claim upon the country. The information he furnished on this and subsequent occasions was extremely valuable.

RISING OF THE AUSTRALIAN CONTINENT.

An observation of his gave rise in my mind to very curious conjectures; he told me that where he used formerly to anchor the vessel he commanded in the head of Sydney cove, there was now scarcely sufficient water to float even a boat. As the deposits of the small stream that flows into it could not have produced this change, I was led to examine the shore of the harbour, when I found what seemed to me to be the marks of the sea higher than its present level; this, coupled with the decrease in the soundings we found in Darling Harbour, leads to the legitimate inference that this part of the continent is rising; and my reader will recollect that it is a prevalent theory that the whole of the vast plains of Australasia have but recently emerged from the sea.

CHAPTER 1.9. BASS STRAIT.

Leave Sydney. Enter Bass Strait. Island at Eastern entrance. Wilson's Promontory. Cape Shanck. Enter Port Phillip. Tide-race. Commence Surveying Operations. First Settlement. Escaped Convict. His residence with the Natives. Sail for King Island. Examine Coast to Cape Otway. King Island. Meet Sealers on New Year Islands. Franklin Road. Solitary Residence of Captain Smith. Soil. Advantageous position for a Penal Settlement. Leafless appearance of Trees. Examine West Coast. Fitzmaurice Bay. Stokes' Point. Seal Bay. Geological Formation. Examine Coast to Sea Elephant Rock. Brig Rock. Cross the Strait to Hunter Island. Strong Tide near Reid's Rocks. Three Hummock Island. Rats. The Black Pyramid. Point Woolnorth. Raised Beach. Coast to Circular Head. Headquarters of the Agricultural Company. Capture of a Native. Mouth of the Tamar River. Return to Port Phillip. West Channel. Yarra-yarra River. Melbourne. Custom of Natives. Manna. Visit Geelong. Station Peak. Aboriginal Names. South Channel. Examine Western Port. Adventure with a Snake. Black Swans. Cape Patterson. Deep Soundings. Revisit King and Hunter Islands. Fire. Circular Head. Gales of Wind. Reid's Rocks. Sea Elephant Rock. Wild Dogs. Navarin and Harbinger Reefs. Arrive at Port Phillip. Sail for Sydney. Pigeon House. Drought. Mr. Usborne leaves.

Before quitting Sydney I must express my gratitude for the hospitality we experienced during our stay, which prepared us with greater cheerfulness to encounter the difficulties we might expect to meet with in the boisterous waters that rolled between the then imperfectly known shores, and islands of Bass Strait. It was not until the 11th of November that we bade adieu to our friends, and sailed to commence our contemplated operations. On the 14th we passed the rocky islands (Kent's Group) at the eastern entrance of the Strait, their barren and bleak appearance bespoke the constant gales that swept over them, checking every tendency to vegetation. As we approached them the soundings decreased to 28 fathoms, the observation of which fact apprises vessels coming from the eastward in thick weather, of their proximity. After leaving these islands we progressed but slowly, and the passage through the Strait promised to be tedious: yet, as the wind was fair and the weather fine, we had no reason to complain, considering moreover the remarkably mild reception we met with in the Funnel, the name commonly and most appropriately given by the colonists to Bass Strait, from the constant strong winds that sweep through it.

WILSON'S PROMONTORY.

On the 17th we passed Wilson's Promontory, the southern extremity of Australia, connected with the main by a low sandy isthmus, only left dry it is probable of late years. It is a very mountainous tract, rearing its many peaks in solemn grandeur from the waves and burying their summits* at most seasons of the year, in a canopy of grey mist. On some occasions, however, the bold outline of the mountains is relieved against a clear sky, and their loftiest points catch the first rays of the morning sun, as it rises from the eastern ocean. Many small islands are dispersed over the sea in front of this promontory, and partake of its character, being apparently the tops of mountains thrusting themselves up from the deep, and suggesting the belief that new countries are about to be disclosed. Passing Port Western, generally called Western Port, a high mound on the south-eastern extremity of Grant Island was the most conspicuous object. The next remarkable feature in the coast is Cape Shanck, a projection at the western end of a long line of cliffs. Lying close off it is a rock, named, from its exact resemblance, Pulpit Rock.

(*Footnote. Nearly 3000 feet high.)

PORT PHILLIP.

In a small bay on the east side of this headland we caught a glimpse of some rich valleys; but from thence for a distance of 16 miles, the coast retains a barren sandy character to Port Phillip, which we reached on the afternoon of the 18th. We scarcely found any ripplings in the entrance, an occurrence of extreme rarity; for it will readily be imagined that a body of water required to fill a bay thirty miles deep and twenty broad, passing through an entrance one mile and a half in width, must rush with great violence; and when we take into account the extreme unevenness of the bottom (soundings varying from 40 to 25 and even 9 fathoms) no surprise can be felt that such a stream, particularly when opposed to a strong wind, should raise a dangerous sea. The force of it may be conjectured from a fact of which I was myself witness. Standing on one of the entrance points, I saw a schooner trying to get in with all sails set before a fresh breeze, and yet she was carried out by the current. Another observation is also recorded for the guidance of the stranger passing into the port. When in the middle of the entrance, a low clump of dark bushes breaking the line of white sand beach beyond Shortlands Bluff, was just seen clear of the latter.

The first appearance of Port Phillip is very striking, and the effect of the view is enhanced by the contrast with the turbulent waves without and in the entrance. As soon as these have been passed, a broad expanse of placid water displays itself on every side; and one might almost fancy oneself in a small sea. But the presence of a distant highland forming a bluff in the North-East soon dispels this idea. Besides this bluff (called by the natives Dandonong) Arthur's Seat, and Station Peak are the principal features that catch the eye of the stranger. The latter, called Youang by the natives, is one of a small group of lofty peaks rising abruptly out of a low plain on the western shore of the bay; whilst Arthur's Seat towers over the eastern shore, and forms the northern extremity of a range subsiding gradually to the coast at Cape Shanck.

Anchoring close to the southern shore, about three miles within the entrance, we set to work in good earnest with our surveying operations—in the first place selecting a conspicuous spot for observation, from which all the meridians of our work in the western part of the Strait were to be measured. For the sake of my nautical readers I may mention that the western extreme of the cliffy patches on the south shore of the bay, marks the place chosen. The nature of our employment confining us to the neighbourhood of the entrance, we had no opportunity of visiting the town of Melbourne, situated near the northern side of the bay. This capital of Australia Felix had for a long time been known to some squatters from Tasmania; but to Sir Thomas Mitchell the inhabitants must ever feel grateful for revealing to the world at large the fertility of the districts in its neighbourhood. It is not a little singular that the attempt to form a settlement at this place in 1826 should have failed. A fort was built and abandoned, and of the party of convicts who accompanied the expedition, two escaped and joined the natives, by whom one was murdered, whilst the other, contriving by some means to ingratiate himself with them, remained in their company until 1835, when he was discovered by the settlers from Tasmania. During the eleven years he had passed in the bush, without coming in contact with any other European, he had entirely forgotten his own language, and had degenerated into a perfect savage. His intellect, if he ever possessed much, had almost entirely deserted him; and nothing of any value could be gleaned from him respecting the history and manners of the tribe with whom he had so long dwelt. He received his pardon and went to Hobart, but such was the indolence he had contracted that nothing could be made of him.

The southern shore of Port Phillip is a singular long narrow tongue of land, running out from the foot of the range of which Arthur's Seat is the most conspicuous point. I infer from the limestone prevailing in it, and containing shells of recent species, that it was once much beneath its present level; in fact, that it stops up what was formerly a broad mouth of the bay, leaving only the present narrow entrance at the western extremity. Over its surface are scattered hills from one to two hundred feet in height, in the valleys between which was found some light sandy soil supporting at this time rich grass, and at various places a thin growth of Banksia, Eucalypti, and Casuarina, all stunted and showing symptoms of having been roughly used by the south wind. Near the spot we had chosen for the centre of our observations was a well of inferior water, and we did not find any better in the neighbourhood. The point in question therefore will never be very eligible as a settlement. The kangaroos are numerous and large, and the finest snappers I have ever heard of are caught off this point, weighing sometimes as much as thirty pounds. Our fishing experiments, however, were not very productive, being principally sharks; thirteen young ones were found in a single female of this species.

SAIL FOR KING ISLAND.

Bad weather prolonged our stay until the 26th of November. We had been chiefly occupied in determining the position of the mouths of the various channels intersecting the banks, that extend across the entire bay, three miles within the entrance. The most available passages appeared to be those lying on the south and west shores, particularly the former for vessels of great draught; but we did not conclude the examination of them at this time, sailing on the morning of the 26th to survey the coast to the westward. The first thirteen miles, trending West by South was of a low sandy character, what seemed to be a fertile country stretching behind it. Two features on this line are worthy of notice—Point Flinders, resembling an island from seaward, on account of the low land in its rear; and the mouth of the river Barwon, navigable for boats entering in very fine weather. On its northern bank, eight miles from the sea is the site of the town of Geelong. Passing this the nature of the country begins to change, and high grassy downs with rare patches of woodland present themselves, which in their turn give place, as we approach Cape Otway, to a steep rocky coast, with densely wooded land rising abruptly over it.

CAPE OTWAY.

The above-mentioned Cape is the northern point of the western extremity of Bass Strait, and is swept by all the winds that blow into that end of the Funnel. The pernicious effect of these is evident in the stunted appearance of the trees in its neighbourhood. It is a bold projection in latitude 38 degrees 51 minutes, and appears to be the South-West extremity of a ridge of granite gradually rising from it in a North-East direction. About half a mile off it, lies a small detached reef.

Having thus coasted the northern side of the Strait, we proceeded to cross over to Tasmania to examine the southern side. About halfway is King Island, extending in a north and south direction, thirty-five miles, and in an east and west thirteen. It lies right across the entrance of the Strait, about forty miles from either shore, and from its isolated position is well adapted for a penal settlement.

The more northern channel of the two formed by this island is the safer, and the water deepens from 47 to 65 fathoms as you approach it from the continent. Its outline is not remarkable, the most conspicuous point being a round hill 600 feet high over the northern point called Cape Wickham. We anchored in a bay on the North-West side, under New Year Island, which affords shelter for a few vessels from all winds. There is a narrow passage between the two, but none between them and the southern point of the bay, which is open to the north-west. On the summit of one of these islands boulders of granite are strewed, and they exhibit a very remarkable white appearance from seaward when the sun has passed his meridian.

A SEALER'S FAMILY.

A sealer had established himself on the north island with two wives, natives of Tasmania. They were clothed in very comfortable greatcoats made of kangaroo skins, and seemed quite contented with their condition. Their offspring appeared sharp and intelligent. In another part of my work I shall touch more fully on the history of these sealers, who style themselves Residents of the islands. They further distinguish their classes by the names of Eastern and Western Straits-men, according to the position of the islands they inhabit.

The sealers on New Year Island had a large whaleboat, which I was somewhat puzzled to know how they managed, there being but one man among them. He informed me, however, that his wives, the two native women, assisted him to work the boat, which had been well prepared for the rough weather they have to encounter in Bass Strait by a canvas half-deck, which, lacing in the centre, could be rolled up on the gunwale in fine weather.

THE MUTTON BIRD.

The principal occupation of these people during this month of the year is taking the Sooty Petrel, called by the colonists the Mutton Bird, from a fancied resemblance to the taste of that meat. It is at the present month that they resort to the island for the purpose of incubation. They constitute the chief sustenance of the sealers, who cure them for use and sale: their feathers also form a considerable article of trade. Many parts of the island were perfectly honeycombed with their burrows, which greatly impede the progress of the pedestrian, and are in some cases dangerous from snakes lying in them. The sealers told me that they had lost a cat which died within an hour after the bite of one of these reptiles. We here found cabbages and water, and the people informed us that it was always their custom to plant a few vegetables on the islands they frequented.

From the top of this island we had a good view of the Harbinger reefs, so-called from a convict ship of that name which was lost upon them and all hands perished. I was glad to find they were only two detached rocks lying three miles and a half from the shore, instead of, as reported, one continued reef lying six or seven miles from the land. They bore north six miles from our position.

CAPTAIN SMITH.

The sealers informed us that a house which we descried in the bay, was occupied by a gentleman who had met with a reverse of fortune. We accordingly paid him a visit next morning, and found that he was a Captain Smith with whom the world had gone wrong, and who had accordingly fled as far as possible from the society of civilised man and taken up his residence on the shores of King Island with his family. He had given the name of Port Franklin to the bay, which we changed to Franklin Road, from its not being worthy of the title of a Port. He was led to choose his position from its being in the neighbourhood of the only secure anchorage from all winds, and near the best soil he had found after traversing the whole of the island. According to his account it was totally unfit for rearing sheep on a large scale; the bushes and grass being so full of burrs that the wool was completely spoiled. The soil was everywhere very inferior, and a few patches only of clean land was to be found, the principal part being overrun with dense scrub and impervious thickets. There were few elevations on the island, and those not of any great magnitude, the loftiest point being scarcely seven hundred feet. The formation of the neighbourhood of Captain Smith's house was granite: water abounds.

WEST SIDE OF KING ISLAND.

The house in which this modern Robinson Crusoe dwelt was what is called a Slab Hut, formed of rough boards and thatched with grass. He had a garden in which grew some cabbages and a few other vegetables; but he complained sorely of blight from the west winds. There are three varieties of kangaroos on the island, and plenty of wildfowl on some of the lagoons; so that supplies are abundant: but the few sheep he possessed were rendered of little value from the burrs I have before mentioned. I could not help pitying the condition of this gentleman and his interesting family—a wife and daughter and three or four fine boys. They had retained a few of the tastes and habits of civilized life, and I observed a good library with a flute and music in the Slab Hut. It was with great pleasure that I afterwards learned that Captain Smith's prospects had brightened. He is now, I believe, a comfortable settler on the eastern side of Tasmania.

On the 29th we passed down the western shore of King Island, finding the coast to be low, treacherous and rocky. We discovered some outlying rocks a mile and half from shore, and about eleven miles south from New Year Island. The most remarkable circumstance we noticed in this part of our cruise, was the leafless appearance of the trees on the higher parts of the island. It seemed as though a hurricane had stripped them of their verdure. They reminded me strongly of a wintry day in the north.

About eight miles from the extremity of the island we discovered a bay affording good anchorage in east winds. It was afterwards called Fitzmaurice Bay. From its neighbourhood a long dark line of black cliffs stretches southward until within about three miles of the point, when the ground sinks suddenly, whence vessels are apt to be misled and to fancy that the island ends there, whilst in reality it stretches out into a low dangerous rocky point, named after the writer, for about three miles more.

SEAL BAY.

Rounding this we anchored on the eastern side of it in Seal Bay—a wild anchorage, the swell constantly rolling in with too much surf to allow of our commencing a series of tidal observations. This bay, in the mouth of which lies a small cluster of rocks, is separated from the one on the opposite side, by a strip of low sandy land, which, as I have said, may easily be overlooked by vessels coming from the westward. A ship indeed has been lost from fancying that the sea was clear south of the black cliffs that skirt the shore down from Fitzmaurice Bay. The Wallaby are numerous on this part of the island. Mr. Bynoe shot one (Halmaturus bellidereii) out of whose pouch he took a young one which he kept on board and tamed. It subsequently became a great pet with us all.

I noticed here a trappean dyke, but the general formation of this end of King Island exactly corresponded with that about Captain Smith's house, which shows that it is a continuous ridge of granite. The south-eastern shore is rather steep, and the ground which rises abruptly over it is almost denuded of wood.

Leaving Seal Bay—from the south point of which we saw the principal dangers at this extremity of Bass Strait, Reid's rocks bearing East by South 1/4 South 12 miles—we coasted round the eastern shore and anchored off a sandy bay about the centre of the island. The only remarkable object was a rock, lying one mile from the shore and five from Seal Bay, on which we bestowed a name suggested by its form, Brig Rock. Off the north point of the bay in which we anchored lies a white rock or islet called Sea Elephant Rock, with a reef a mile off its north point. Opposite this is a small inlet fed by the drainage of some lagoons or swamps behind the bay. Northward the character of the coast, as far as we could see, changes considerably, being lower, with a continued line of sandy shore.

A breeze from the eastward prevented our completing the survey of the northern side of the island; but one important result we had arrived at, namely, that safe anchorage may be obtained in west winds within a moderate distance of this part of the shore in less than fifteen fathoms.

CROSS THE STRAIT.

We now crossed over to the group of islands fronting the north-western point of Tasmania, and confining the southern side of the mouth of the Strait. The tide setting to the South-West at the rate of three knots an hour* brought us within five miles of Reid's rocks. Passing at that distance from their eastern side we had 28 and 30 fathoms sand and rock: and the greatest depth we found in crossing was 37 fathoms towards the south side of the Strait.

(*Footnote. This set of the tide being rather across the channel renders the passage between King Island and Reid's rocks by no means recommendable. Captain King on returning to New South Wales, used this passage and was very nearly wrecked; the set of the tides at that time not being known. It appears they saw the south point of King Island just at dark, and shaped a course well wide of Reid's rocks; they found themselves, however, drifted by the tide close on them. We made the time of high-water at the full and change of the moon in this entrance of the Strait to be half an hour before noon; but the western stream began three hours and a half before, and the eastern again precedes low-water by the same amount of time.)

A SECURE ANCHORAGE.

Early on the morning of December 3rd, we reached a secure anchorage between Three Hummock Island, and Hunter, formerly called Barren Island; and we had every reason to be thankful at finding ourselves in such a snug berth, for during our stay, we experienced gales from east and west, with such sudden changes that no ship could have saved herself. This made us sensible how necessary it was to choose anchorages sheltered from both winds. Our surveying operations were sadly delayed by this boisterous weather.

Three Hummock Island receives its name from three peaks rising on its eastern side. The south rises abruptly from the water and forms a singular sugarloaf 790 feet high. It is composed of granite, boulders of which front many of the points, forming strange figures. The whole of the island is clothed with an almost impervious scrub, which growing laterally forms a perfect network, so that it is impossible to traverse it. Mr. Bynoe procured few specimens of birds in consequence. The woodcutters one day cut a small brown opossum in half: it seemed to be a very rare if not a new animal; but unfortunately the head part could not be found. Small brown rats were very numerous, they had rather short tails with long hind feet, and sat up like kangaroos.

The trees on this island are small and stunted, being chiefly Banksia and Eucalypti. Water is plentiful. We supplied the ship from wells dug on the north point of a sandy bay on the South-East side of the island.*

(*Footnote. The reef that so nearly sealed the Mermaid's fate with Captain King, we found to lie half a mile north-west from the north-east end of Three Hummock Island.)

BARREN ISLAND.

Hunter Island well deserves its former name of Barren, for it is perfectly treeless; a green kind of scrub overruns its surface, which at its highest point is three hundred feet above the level of the sea. In form it is like a closed hand with the fore-finger extended, pointing north. The inclination of its strata differs, dipping to the sea on both sides, east and west. These at first sight appeared to be of the same kind of sandstone that we had seen so much of on the North-West coast, but on closer inspection I found they were raised beaches; the prevailing mass of the island was a granitoid rock.

THE BLACK PYRAMID.

From stations on Hunter Island we were enabled to determine the positions of the numerous dangers fronting its west or seaward side, and also that of a dark mass of rock, 250 feet high, appropriately named the Black Pyramid, lying 16 miles West by North from the centre of the island, and in latitude 40 degrees 28 minutes South which places it nearly five miles south of its position in the old charts. It is quite a finger-post to this entrance of the Strait, and all ships should pass close to it. When I looked at these islands and rocks I could not help thinking of poor Captain Flinders and his enterprising companion Mr. Bass, the discoverers of the north-western part of Tasmania. What a thrill of excitement must have shot through their frames when on rounding Hunter Island, in the little Norfolk cutter, they first felt the long swell of the ocean and became convinced of the insular character of Tasmania! This discovery must have amply repaid them for all their toils and privations. Nothing indeed is so calculated to fill the heart of the navigator with pride, as the consciousness that he has widened the sphere of geographical science, and added new seas and new lands to the known world.

The south end of Hunter Island is about three miles from a point of the mainland, called Woolnorth; but from the rocks and inlets that encumber the passage and the rapid rush of the tide it is only navigable for small vessels with great caution. Point Woolnorth is a rather low sloping point composed of the same rock as Hunter Island. Ten miles south of it a raised beach again occurs 100 feet above the level of the sea. Behind Point Woolnorth the country swells into hills nearly six hundred feet high. Three miles from its extreme is an out-station of the Van Diemen's Land Agricultural Company, of which I shall say more anon. Some forty persons are here located under the care of a German, who amused himself by making a large collection of insects, which he has since taken to Germany. The soil on this extremity of Tasmania is most productive; but much labour is required in clearing for the purposes of cultivation. From thence to Circular Head, bearing East 1/2 South 26 miles, the shore is low and sinuous, forming three shallow bights.

WALKER ISLAND.

Walker and Robbins islands, which lie together in the shape of an equilateral triangle, with sides of nine miles, front the coast about midway, and leave only a narrow boat-channel between them and the main.

On Walker Island our boats met the wives of some sealers whose husbands had gone to King Island on a sealing excursion. They were clothed like those on New Year Island. One was half European and half Tasmanian, and by no means ill-looking; she spoke very good English and appeared to take more care of her person than her two companions, who were aborigines of pure blood. A few wild flowers were tastefully entwined with her hair, which was dressed with some pretensions to elegance. They had a pack of dogs along with them, and depended in a great measure for their maintenance on the Wallaby they killed. The skin also of these animals constitutes to them an important article of trade.

It was the 15th before we had completed for the present our survey of this part, owing as I have before observed, to the constant bad weather, which was doubly felt by the boats in which all the materials for the chart of this neighbourhood were collected.

CIRCULAR HEAD.

We now examined the coast to Circular Head, under the north side of which we anchored in 7 fathoms on the morning of the 18th, after spending a day under the South-East corner off Robbins Island, where we found good anchorage in westerly winds. Making too free with the shore with a low sun ahead, we grounded for a short time on a shingle spit extending off the low point North-West from Circular Head. Three quarters of a mile East-North-East from this point is a dangerous rocky ledge just awash, on which several vessels have run. By keeping the bluff extreme of Circular Head open it may always be avoided.

The latter is a singular cliffy mass of trappean rock, rising abruptly from the water till its flattened crest reaches an elevation of 490 feet.

This strange projection stands on the eastern side of a small peninsula. On the parts broken off where it joins the sandy bay on the north side, we found the compass perfectly useless, from the increased quantity of magnetic iron ore they contain.

It is on this point that the headquarters of the Van Diemen's Land Agricultural Company are established under the charge of a Mr. Curr, whose house with its extensive out-buildings and park, occupying some rising ground on the northern part of the point, greets the eye of the stranger, to whom the reflection is forcibly suggested by the sight, that the natural graces of the scene, must soon yield to the restraining regularity with which man marks his conquests from the wilderness. The name of this faint memento of home was, we were informed, Hyfield; a straggling village occupies a flat to the left, and in the bay on the south side of the head, which is the general anchorage, is a store with a substantial jetty.

English grasses have been sown at this establishment with great success, one acre of ground now feeding four sheep, instead of as before, four acres being required for one; the improvement in the grass was also made evident by the excellent condition in which all the stock appeared to be.

HYFIELD.

The garden at Hyfield was quite in keeping with the other parts of the establishment, and it was not a little pleasing to observe a number of English fruit trees. I was told, however, that they suffered exceedingly from blight which was brought by the west winds. In one corner that at first escaped my curiosity, so completely had it been shut out from the gaze of all by a winding bowery walk, I found in a sort of alcove, the tomb of a child; upon it lay a fresh bouquet of flowers, revealing that the dead was not forgotten by those who were left behind. It was easy to divine, and I afterwards learned this to be the case, that it was the mother, Mrs. Curr, who came every morning to pay this tribute of affection to the departed. A weeping willow drooped its supple branches over the tomb; some honey-suckle and sweet-briar surrounded it, loading the air with their rich fragrance; not even the chirping of a bird disturbed the solemn silence that reigned around; everything seemed to conspire to suggest holy and melancholy thoughts, and I lingered awhile to indulge in them; but perceiving by the few footmarks that I was an intruder, hastened to retire, by no means sorry, however, to have discovered this evidence of the enduring love a mother bears her offspring.

In the Park at Hyfield were some fallow deer, imported from England, and seeming to thrive exceedingly well. There were also two emus, the sight of which reminded me of a very curious observation I had before made, and the truth of which again struck me forcibly, namely, that the face of the Emu bears a most remarkable likeness to that of the aborigines of New South Wales. Had there been any intimacy between the native and the Emu, I might have been disposed to resort to this circumstance as an explanation; for some maintain that the human countenance partakes of the expression and even of the form of whatever, whether man or beast, it is in the habit of associating with.

SURREY HILLS.

The Company have another station about sixty miles South-East from Circular Head, at the Surrey hills, from whence the road to Launceston is good and wide. But between it and Circular Head there are several rivers to ford, and the country is not only very hilly, but densely wooded with enormous trees, some of which I was informed were 30 feet in circumference. This causes great difficulty in clearing the land. They accomplish about fifty acres every year. The establishment consists of one hundred persons, many of whom are convicts. They are kept in excellent order; and their being strictly forbidden the use of spirits no doubt contributes materially to prevent their giving trouble. I could not help thinking that the Company conducted its operations on too extensive a scale to render their undertaking profitable. The high pay of their officers, and the difficulties encountered in clearing the land, are in themselves considerable drawbacks; especially when we consider, that after all the pains bestowed, the soil acquired for the purposes of cultivation is often of very inferior quality.

The soil on the peninsula, of which Circular Head forms the most remarkable feature, is generally speaking of a poor light character, and not well watered. The country lying immediately behind it is low and cut up with branches from a large estuary.

My esteemed friend, Count Strzelecki, traversed the country between Circular Head and Point Woolnorth (North-West extreme of Tasmania) and describes it as presenting "eight rivers as difficult to cross as the Scamander, with deep gullies and rocky ridges, and marshes more difficult to overcome than either ridges or rivers."

MINERAL WATERS.

We learned there were some mineral waters about fifteen miles to the westward of Circular Head. The ingredients they contain, and their medicinal properties, were discovered by Count Strzelecki, who in speaking of them, says, "I have endeavoured to ascertain both—the latter on my own constitution, and the former by chemical analysis. They belong to a class of carbonated waters." From his examination he concludes, "that they are aperient and tonic, and sufficiently disgusting to the palate to pass for highly medicinal."

Whilst here, I was informed that a small party of natives were still at large, though seldom seen, keeping in the remotest recesses of the woods. They thus succeeded in avoiding for some years their enemy the white man. Indeed it was only when pressed by hunger that these aboriginal possessors of the soil ventured to emerge from their hiding-places, and rob some of the Company's out-stations of flour. By these means, however, it was that a knowledge was obtained of their existence. For, though they managed so secretly, that it was some time before they were found out, a shepherd at an out-station, began at last frequently to miss flour and tobacco* in a very mysterious manner. He determined accordingly to watch, but was for a long time unsuccessful. At length he saw a native woman steal into the hut, when he drew the door to by a line which communicated with his place of concealment. Of the treatment this poor woman received from the hands of her captor I shall treat hereafter. After being kept a prisoner some time, she was sent to Flinders Island; but it was long before the discovery was made that she had any companions. I was informed that the shepherd who took her, afterwards lost his life by the spear of a native, probably impelled by revenge.

(*Footnote. The fondness exhibited by the aborigines who inhabit the southern parts of Australia for smoking is extraordinary.)

SAIL FOR THE RIVER TAMAR.

We completed our operations on the evening of the day on which we arrived, namely, December 18th, and left for the Tamar river, in order to measure a meridian distance. Passing six miles from Rocky Cape, we had 28 fathoms; and steering east, the depth gradually increased to 42 fathoms, with a soft muddy bottom, being then twenty miles North-West by West from Port Dalrymple, the mouth of the Tamar.

The 19th was one of the few fine days it was our good fortune to meet with, and we enjoyed a splendid view of the Alpine features of Tasmania. Towering peaks connected sometimes by high tablelands, glittered in the sun as if capped with snow.*

(*Footnote. Near Hobart, in February 1836, I saw snow on the side of a mountain.)

PORT DALRYMPLE.

Early in the afternoon, the lighthouse on Low Head appeared like a white speck resting on the blue horizon; and by evening we found ourselves at anchor just within the reefs fronting the west entrance point of Port Dalrymple. The first appearance of the Tamar river is not very inviting to the seaman. A rapid stream, thrown out of its course, hemmed in by numerous reefs, and passing over a bottom so uneven as to cause a change in the soundings from 12 to 26, and then 18 fathoms, with a ripple or line of broken water across the mouth renders it impossible in strong North-West winds for a stranger to detect the channels, and raises so much sea that the pilots cannot reach the vessels that arrive off the mouth.

As the Beagle passed through the west channel, the shear or first beacon on the west reefs was on with a round-topped hill some distance up the river. Although there is very apparent difficulty in navigating the Tamar, still the first glance shows it to be a stream of importance. Its valley, although not wide, may be traced for miles abruptly separating the ranges of hills. We can easily imagine, therefore, the joy experienced by Captain Flinders on first discovering it in 1798, and thus bestowing a solid and lasting benefit on the future Tasmanian colonists. This is not, however, the only portion of Australasia whose inhabitants are indebted for the riches they are reaping from the soil, to the enterprising spirit of Captain Flinders.

George Town is a straggling village lying two miles within the entrance of the Tamar; in its neighbourhood were found greenstone, basalt, and trappean rocks. Launceston, the northern capital of Tasmania, lies thirty miles up the river, or rather at the confluence of the two streams called the North and South Esk, which form it.

SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

We found that the Governor was attending not only to the present but the future welfare of the colonists, by examining into the most eligible spots for erecting lighthouses at the eastern entrance of Bass Strait, fronting the North-East extreme of Tasmania, the numerous dangers besetting which have been fatal to several vessels. These buildings will be lasting records of the benefits the colony derived from Sir John Franklin's government.

As we subsequently visited the Tamar, it is needless to give here the little information we gathered during our brief stay. Our observations were made on the south point of Lagoon Bay, where we found a whaleboat belonging to a party of sealers just arrived with birds' feathers and skins for the Launceston market. They had left their wives and families, including their dogs, on the islands they inhabit.

RETURN TO PORT PHILLIP.

On the morning of the 22nd, we were again out of the Tamar, and making the best of our way to Port Phillip for a meridian distance. There was little tide noticed in the middle of the Strait; the greatest depth we found was 47 fathoms, 68 miles North-West from the Tamar, where the nature of the bottom was a grey muddy sand or marl.

At noon on the 23rd, we entered Port Phillip, and ran up through the West Channel in three and three and a half fathoms.

Point Lonsdale, the west entrance point, being kept open of Shortland bluff—a cliffy projection about two miles within it—leads into the entrance; and a clump of trees on the northern slope of Indented Head, was just over a solitary patch of low red cliffs, as we cleared the northern mouth of the channel. From thence to Hobson's Bay, where we anchored at 3 P.M., the course is North by West 22 miles across a splendid sheet of water, of which the depth is 11 and 13 fathoms.

William Town, the seaport town of Australia Felix, named after his Majesty King William IV., stands on a very low piece of land forming the southern shore of Hobson's Bay, called Point Gellibrand, after a gentleman from Hobart, one of the first who brought stock to Port Phillip. He was lost in the bush in a very mysterious manner in 1834. No trace of him or his horse was found till 1842, when some of the natives showed where his mouldering bones lay. The point that bears his name scarcely projects sufficiently to afford large ships shelter from south winds in Hobson's Bay. In the North-West corner of the latter is the mouth of the Yarra-yarra river; but although only one mile and a half from the general anchorage, it is very difficult to be made out. The following anecdote will illustrate the difficulty of detecting the mouths of rivers in Australia. Soon after we anchored in Hobson's Bay, a small schooner passed, going to Melbourne. Several of the officers were at the time standing on the poop, and each selected a spot at which the schooner was to enter the river; and although, as I have before stated, we were only one mile and a half from it, none of us was right. A single tall bushy-topped tree, about a mile inland, rose over the schooner as she left the waters of Hobson's Bay.

William Town consisted, at that time, of only a few houses. One disadvantage under which this place labours is badness of water, while the country around it is a dead level, with clumps of very open woodland. The formation is whinstone, but the soil's fertile quality shows an absence of sandstone.

RIVER YARRA-YARRA.

Proceeding up the Yarra-yarra, we found that about two miles from the mouth, the river divides, one branch continuing in a northerly direction, and the other, a narrow sluggish stream, turning suddenly off to the eastward. The banks are so densely wooded, that it is seldom if ever that its surface is ruffled by a breeze.

MELBOURNE.

The township of Melbourne on its north bank, five miles from the river's mouth, we found a very bustling place. Nearly two thousand persons had already congregated there, and more were arriving every day, so that great speculation was going on in land. We were delighted with the park-like appearance of the country, and the rich quality of the soil. This was the most fertile district we had seen in all Australia; and I believe everyone allows that such is the case. Its reputation indeed was at one time so great, that it became the point of attraction for all settlers from the mother country, where at one time the rage for Port Phillip became such, that there existed scarcely a village in which some of the inhabitants, collecting their little all, did not set out for this land of promise, with the hope of rapidly making a fortune and returning to end their days in comfort at home. Everyone I think must leave with such hopes; for who can deliberately gather up his goods and go into a far country with the settled intention of never returning?

A rocky ledge extends across the river fronting the town, upon which the plan had been formed of erecting a dam for the purpose of keeping the water fresh; whereas now the river is salt above the town, and the well water is not particularly good. The Yarra-yarra is not navigable even for boats many miles beyond Melbourne, on account of the numerous falls. Some of the reaches above the town are very picturesque—still glassy sheets of water stretch between steep banks clothed with rich vegetation down to the very edge of the stream—the branches of the trees droop over the smooth surface, and are vividly reflected; and substance is so perfectly blended with shadow, that it is impossible to detect where they unite.

At the western extremity of Melbourne is a low round hill, fifty-seven feet above the level of the sea by our observations, and about thirty above the town. There are now none of the aborigines in the neighbourhood of Melbourne; but I learned that some of their old men remember the time when the site of the town was under water, in consequence of one of those sudden inundations that happen in Australia, and are so much in keeping with the other strange things that occur there.

SINGULAR CUSTOM.

Having alluded to the natives, I may here mention a singular custom that came under notice some time after, at the Protectorate in the valley of the Loddon, in the vicinity of Melbourne. Several women were observed having their faces completely concealed by their opossum-skin mantles. Not satisfied with this moreover, in passing a party of men, they moved in a sidelong manner, so as to render it impossible, even if the covering came to be displaced, that their faces should be seen. In the evening at the Corobbery, these persons, three in number, were seated in the circle of women, so as to have their backs turned to the dancers or actors, their faces still being wholly concealed. They remained seated, motionless, taking no part in the singing or the gestures of encouragement indulged in by the other women. It was subsequently explained by a protector, that these were women who had daughters betrothed to the men of their tribe, and that during the period of betrothment the mothers are always thus rigidly veiled.

Near Mount Macedon, thirty miles North-West from Melbourne, there has been discovered, I was informed, a quarry of marble of a very fine quality; and in the same neighbourhood is an extinct crater. The formation at and in the immediate vicinity of Melbourne, is of tertiary deposits associated with arenaceous older rocks.

We returned to the ships by a short route leading direct from Melbourne to the northern shore of Hobson's Bay. During the walk I was much struck with the great risk that people run in selecting land from a map of this country, half of our road lying over a rich loam, and the other half over soft sand. The trees swarmed with large locusts (the cicada) quite deafening us with their shrill buzzing noise.

MANNA.

We found the branches of these trees and the ground underneath strewed over with a white substance resembling small flakes of snow, called by the colonists manna. I am aware that an erroneous idea exists that this matter is deposited by the locusts; but in fact it is an exudation from the Eucalyptus; and although I saw it beneath another kind of tree, it must have been carried there by the wind. A different sort, of a pale yellow colour, is found on a smaller species of Eucalyptus growing on highlands, and is much sought after for food by the natives, who sometimes scrape from the tree as much as a pound in a quarter of an hour. It has the taste of a delicious sweetmeat, with an almond flavour, and is so luscious that much cannot be eaten of it. This is well worthy of attention from our confectioners at home, and it may hereafter form an article of commerce, although from what has fallen under my own observation, and from what I have learnt from Mr. Eyre and others, I should say it is not of frequent occurrence. The first kind, being found strewed underneath the tree probably exudes from the leaf, whilst the second oozes from the stem. The wood of the latter is much used for fuel by the natives, especially in night-fishing, and burns brightly, without smoke, diffusing also a delicious aromatic smell.

HOBSON'S BAY.

On Christmas day, which we spent in Hobson's Bay, we experienced one of those hot winds which occasionally occur coming off the land. During its prevalence, everything assumes a strange appearance—objects are seen with difficulty, and acquire a tremulous motion like that which is imparted to everything seen through the air escaping from an over-heated stove. The thermometer on a wall under the glare of the sun, stood at 135 degrees.

We surveyed Hobson's Bay during our stay, and connected it by triangulation with Melbourne. Our observations were made at the inner end of a small jetty. The mouth of the Yarra-yarra is closed up by a bar, which from its soft muddy nature may be easily removed. The deepest water we found on it at high tide was nine feet.

CORIO HARBOUR.

Having completed our operations, we next morning, January 1st, 1839, departed for Corio Harbour, situated at the head of a deep inlet midway on the western shore of Port Phillip. We found our progress impeded as we beat up it by a long spit, extending two thirds of the way across from a low projecting point lying midway on the north shore. On the opposite side, the land is of moderate elevation, and has in many places a most inviting rich park-like appearance, swelling on all sides into grassy downs, with patches of open woodland interspersed. In the afternoon we anchored in three fathoms, about a quarter of a mile from the south point of Corio Harbour. This is a level expanse of land named Point Henry, from which a long spit extends, leaving only a shoal channel between it and the northern shore. Thus, though the harbour has apparently a broad open mouth, it is impossible for a large vessel to enter it.

January 2.

After breakfast a party of us went to visit Captain Fyans, the police magistrate of the district, for the purpose of arranging a trip to Station Peak. We landed on the South-West corner of Corio Harbour, where we found four fathoms close to the beach, immediately over which is the north end of the township of Geelong. A kind of store and two other wooden buildings pointed out its locality. Captain Fyans was living in a log-hut on the banks of the Marabul River. Our road thither lay west about three miles across a woody down.

RIVER BARWON.

The Marabul runs to the southward, and joins the Barwon flowing from the west; after which the united streams take a south-easterly direction. The course of the latter I was anxious to trace, having seen its mouth in passing along the coast west from Port Phillip. Very opportunely I met with Mr. Smith, belonging to the colonial surveying department, who being employed in the neighbourhood, took me to a commanding station on some low hills about three miles to the south, called by the natives Barabul. We crossed the Barwon running to the south-east at the foot of them, near where it fell some height over a rocky shelf forming a pretty waterfall. Turning to the left from this roar of water, you find the stream meandering silently between rich grassy flats. On one of these Mr. Smith's tents were pitched, overlooked by a craggy height on the opposite side of the river; and the blue stream of smoke that arose from the fire of his party, helped to impart life and beauty to the scene. From the Barabul hills I almost traced the Barwon to its confluence with the sea. Five miles to the south-east from where we stood it communicated with a large lagoon; after leaving which, I was informed there was only a depth of three feet, and a width of one eighth of a mile. It is not, however, this alone that renders the Barwon useless for water-carriage to the town of Geelong; for the exposed situation of its mouth almost always prevents boats from entering.

The singular sloping treeless sides of the Barabul hills, and the declivities of the valley of the Marabul river, bear a striking resemblance to many parts of Eastern Patagonia. They appear as if they had just emerged from the sea, which had as it were scooped out their hollows and smoothed their sides. A remarkable high round hill, perfectly bare of trees, and called by the natives Moriac, bore West 1/2 South six miles from where we stood. On our return we met some of the natives; they were the first I had seen of the aborigines of this part of the continent, and were certainly a finer race than the people on the western coasts. They complained of the white men bringing animals into their country that scare away the kangaroo, and destroy the roots which at certain seasons of the year form part of their sustenance. This, Mr. Smith told me, was a very general complaint.

I spent a very pleasant evening at Captain Fyans' comfortable quarters, in the course of which arrangements were made for next day's journey to Station Peak, Mr. Smith kindly offering to lend me a horse and to accompany me.

STATION PEAK.

January 3.

We started for Station Peak very early. The morning air had a delightfully bracing effect; and the grass glittered with a copious fall of dew. The first five miles of road lay over a high down, with pretty patches of woodland interspersed; and the remaining ten over a low plain that stretches to the foot of the peak. Six miles from the latter we crossed a hollow where I noticed some calcareous matter, in which were included shells of recent species, evidently showing that an upheaval had taken place in this part of the continent. We saw on the plain several large bustards resembling a light brown domestic turkey.

Leaving our horses at the foot of the peak, we ascended it by a sloping ridge on the south-east face. Huge blocks of granite—some poised on a point as if the slightest touch would send them rolling and thundering to the plains below—covered the sides and summits of this and the smaller peak, to the north of which are several others scattered over about a mile of ground.

On reaching the summit, I hastened to a pile of stones which Captain Flinders had erected to commemorate his visit; but, alas, the bottle and paper left by him were gone, and I have not since been able to learn who it was that took away this interesting and valuable record.

VIEW FROM STATION PEAK.

The view commanded all points of the splendid sheet of water called Port Phillip, which stretched away its shining expanse seemingly almost from our very feet; whilst north-east two long wavy lines of trees showed the course of the Little and Weariby rivers meandering through the plain.

The natives call this cluster of peaks Ude (great) Youang, and the other West-North-West seven miles, Anuke (little) Youang. Another solitary high round hill, fifteen miles further nearly, in the same direction, is called Bununyong.

We have thus five native names of places in the immediate neighbourhood of Port Phillip, having the termination ng, and we may perhaps add another, the Barwon being probably Barwong. At King George's Sound in Western Australia, the names end in up, and again to the eastward, near Gipps' Land, the final letter is n. These observations may probably assist in directing the attention of philologists to the subject of the distribution of the Australian dialects or languages.

Ude Youang, or as Captain Flinders named it, Station Peak, is a granite mass elevated 1370 feet above the sea. At Geelong there is some confusion in the formation. The rocks, however, that prevail are trappean.

FOSSIL SHELLS.

In digging a well there, a fossil cowrie (Cypraea eximia) of an extinct species was once found at the depth of sixty feet. Another specimen of the same shell was dug up at Franklin village near Launceston, from a hundred and forty feet below the surface of the soil. Count Strzelecki gives a figure of it in his interesting work.

Mr. Ronald Gunn, in his observations on the flora of Geelong, observes that out of a hundred species of plants collected indiscriminately, sixty-seven were also to be found in Tasmania, leaving only thirty-three to indicate the peculiarities of the Geelong vegetation.

Some of the officers of the Beagle exhibited at this place symptoms of being infected with the land-speculating mania we had witnessed at Melbourne, by bidding for some of the allotments of the township of Geelong, which were just then selling. One that was bought for 80 pounds might have been sold a year afterwards for 700 pounds. I mention this fact that the reader may see what a ruinous system was then in vogue.

ARTHUR'S SEAT.

On the morning of January 5, we left Geelong, touched at Hobson's Bay for a chronometric departure, and proceeded to sea by the south channel. Arthur's Seat is a good guide for its entrance from Hobson's Bay, the channel passing close under the foot of it. The eastern extremity of the northern banks, we found very difficult to make out, from the water being but slightly discoloured on it. It is, moreover, on account of its steepness, dangerous to approach. From this eastern corner of the bank, Arthur's Seat bears South 50 1/2 degrees West and a solitary patch of cliff, westward of the latter, South 68 degrees East.

In consequence of bad weather it was three days before we passed through the channel, which, we were pleased to find navigable for line of battle ships. A West 3/4 North course led through, and the least water was five fathoms on a bar at the eastern entrance, where the width is only three-tenths of a mile, whilst in the western it is one mile, with a depth of seventeen fathoms. When in the latter we saw Flinders Point between Lonsdale and Nepean Points, and as we came down the channel, the last two points were just open of each other.

PORT WESTERN.

Leaving Port Phillip, we surveyed the coast to the eastward, and anchored in the entrance of Port Western, after dark on the 10th. Next morning we examined the south-west part of Grant island, and moved the ship to a more secure anchorage off its North-East point. Port Western is formed between Grant and French islands in rather a remarkable manner: two great bays lie one within the other, the inner being nearly filled up by French island, whilst the outer is sheltered by Grant Island, stretching across it almost from point to point, and leaving a wide ship-channel on its western side, whilst on the eastern the passage is narrow and fit only for boats and small vessels.

Gales between North-West and South-West detained us here until the 19th. We found water by digging on the North-East extreme of Grant Island, which at high tide is a low sandy islet. On first landing there, we found in a clump of bushes a kangaroo, very dark-coloured, indeed almost black. His retreat being cut off he took to the water, and before a boat could reach him, sank. This not only disappointed but surprised us; for in Tasmania a kangaroo has been known to swim nearly two miles. Black swans were very numerous, and it being the moulting season, were easily run down by the boats. Their outstretched necks and the quick flap of their wings as they moved along, reminded us forcibly of a steamboat. At this season of the year when the swans cannot fly, a great act of cruelty is practised on them by those who reside on the Islands in Bass Strait, and of whom I have before spoken as sealers: they take them in large numbers and place them in confinement, without anything to eat, in fact almost starve them to death, in order that the down may not be injured by the fat which generally covers their bodies.

Scarcely any traces are now to be found of the old settlement on a cliffy point of the eastern shore of the harbour. The rapid growth of indigenous vegetation has completely concealed all signs of human industry, and the few settlers in the neighbourhood have helped themselves to the bricks to build their own homes.

We noticed, however, one or two remaining indications of the fact that a settlement had formerly existed on that spot, among others an old flagstaff still erect, on a bluff near the North-East end of Grant Island. A very large domestic cat, also, was seen on the South-East point, doubtless another relic of the first settlers.

The rocks chiefly to be met with at Port Western are analogous to those of the Carboniferous series. Over its eastern shore rises a range of woody hills to the height of between five and seven hundred feet, stretching away in a North-East direction. This harbour presents one very curious feature, namely, a sort of canal or gut in the mud flats that front the eastern side of Grant Island. Its depth varies from six to seven fathoms, whilst the width is half a mile. The most remarkable object, however, is the helmet-shaped headland, rising abruptly from the sea to the height of 480 feet, and forming the South-East extreme of Grant Island. It is the more conspicuous from the circumstance that all the rest of the island is covered with low hills, clothed in an almost impervious scrub. The land at the head of the inner of the two bays I have alluded to in describing Port Western, partakes of the same character, and is intersected by a number of creeks. This greatly increases the difficulty of the overland communication between Port Phillip and the available land on Port Western, travellers being compelled to take a very circuitous road in order to avoid this almost impassable tract, and reach the banks of Bass river, where the best soil is found, and which has been named after the enterprising man whose memory must for ever remain intimately connected with this part of the world.

SNAKE ADVENTURE.

A few rare insects were collected by Mr. Emery, whose adventures with snakes bear a great resemblance to some of Waterton's. He was walking out once on Grant Island, when his attention was attracted by the pitiful cries of a bird in a tree close at hand. He soon discovered that a snake* was in the act of robbing the nest, whilst the mother fluttering round, was endeavouring to scare away the spoiler. Mr. Emery immediately climbed up, and with a courage which few other men would have exhibited, seized the reptile by the back of the neck and killed it. We found that it had already swallowed one of the young ones, which had so extended the skin, and made so large a lump, that we were quite puzzled to know how it could have been got down.