Original text of Sarah Mathew, in the first person of Felton Mathew——

STRAY LEAVES FROM THE JOURNAL
OF A WANDERER IN AUSTRALIA

"20 Years Since"

2nd Decbr 1829
To begin with the weather as an Englishman generally does, it is so mild and pleasant and the days so long that I have some difficulty in persuading myself that it is Xmas! More particularly as there are with me no internal and domestic indications to remind me of it.

I have seen many strange places but I never knew one where there was so utter an absence of hospitality as here. I hear of no friendly parties, no national merry makings - no social intercourse in any class of the society.

Indeed it may be said that there are but two classes here, the "elite" and the "canaille". Among the former it is all pomp, stiffness and formality; with the latter riot, revelry and drunkenness hold undisputed sway.

I admire Sydney as a town but I should be very sorry to live in it. In the country I believe the people are really kind and hospitable.

I have been this evening to visit the Botanical Gardens. It is very prettily laid out and contains a great variety of rare and beautiful flowers and shrubs. There are walks of perhaps 300 feet in length by 15 wide, enclosed entirely by vines trained over a Trellis. The effect is delightful, the shade most grateful and refreshing.

I shall be truly glad to get into the Bush. When I once take possession of my tent, I do not think I will live in Sydney again. The scenes of riot and debauchery one witnesses here, are dreadful; and to see the miserable wretches of natives, reeling about the streets, some stupid, some frantic from the effects of intoxication, is a most revolting spectacle. It is a melancholy fact and speaks volumes of the depravity of human nature, that these poor savages are apt beyond belief at imitating everything bad: drunkenness, swearing and every kind of vice they copy with the utmost facility - while the most laborious exertions have been found insufficient to impress them with a sense of right and wrong or to engraft on their brutal natures one single good quality. The faculty of speech alone seems to distinguish them from the beasts that perish.

Such they are here, among civilized men - I shall see them 'ere long in their primitive state, among their native wilds. There I shall find them at least uncontaminated by the vices of the white man.

A short distance to the left of the Parramatta Road and about a mile from the Town is the Burying Ground. It is almost filled with monuments, but is in a very neglected state. A great number of the Tombs are completely covered with Geraniums which quite scent the air with their fragrance, and has a very pleasing effect. Many of the graves are marked by no other Memorial than a plain wooden cross while some have a piece of board only, nailed to a post, and rudely painted with the words "Here lie the remains of" some poor wanderer from the Fatherland, whose dust lies unwept below.

A cemetery in a distant land, is the saddest truthteller, and to one who feels deeply the "amor pro patriae", there is no scene so full of melancholy, so natural is the desire: "bury me with my Fathers".

I walked some distance along The South Head Road and then struck off into the bush, to a rising ground which afforded me a completely Panoramic view of the whole country round with [a] great part of Sydney, The Cove, Botany Bay and the Blue Mountains in the distance. But how [to] depict the scene[?] Imagine a succession of undulating sandy hills entirely covered with brushwood; no house or road to be seen. At a distance, the fine expanse of water called Botany Bay, with here and there intervening swamps looking green as meadows, or partially filled with water reflecting the deep blue of the sky. Beyond these, ranges on ranges of hills, rising one above the other until they "melt in the distance". Such is the country, and with a blazing sun fast setting in the west, forms a magnificent landscape.

The hills themselves afford very little variety, being composed entirely of sand, fine and white, but the profusion of shrubs, many very beautiful, and all curious, is very striking. I may describe one in particular, as most abundant, and very picturesque, and remarkable, it is a sort of rush, the long sharp leaves, spring in a tuft from a short stem or trunk exactly resembling a pine apple in size and shape, from the centre rises the flower stalk, very like a bulrush and reaching a height of 10 or 12 feet. These cane-like stems are used by the Natives as spears, having a point fixed at one end of some hard wood or a piece of shell or bone. The Aloe, tho not indigenous, is very common here, and grows to a great size. I see them in many cottage gardens, upwards of 30 feet high and the flower stem resembling a large fir tree. The blossoms are a pale delicate yellow. The leaves are enormously thick and large, often reaching 10 feet in height.

The variety and beauty of the insect tribe would delight an entomologist. More especially if he could claim, on the score of friendly acquaintanceship, an immunity from the attacks of the Mosquitoes and the Blowflies. The latter are most loathsome and disgusting. They will taint the meat on your plate, and pollute everything that has heat and moisture. Blankets and woollen clothing must be carefully examined, and even infants in the cradles must be carefully shaded with muslin to defend them from their disgusting propensities. As to the Mosquitoes, they are terrible pests. The eternal buz, buz, buz and irritating stings are destructive of all enjoyment in these lovely evenings.

The immense number and beauty of the grasshopper tribe is astonishing. They vary in size from a quarter of an inch to four inches in length, and some of the larger species have beautifully coloured wings, some bright yellow, with shades of dusky black. These fold closely to the body like a fan, and are concealed by a sort of sheath, but expand in their flight and appear as large as a butterfly's wings and the noise resembles the furling and unfurling of a fan. Others I observed with two pair of silvery gossamer wings more like those of the dragon fly. Their flight is irregular, and more like a long and extended leap than actual flying. They rise, expand their gauze-like wings and are borne by the air as it lifts, falling again, it would seem, without any aim or object.

I am surprised to see such a variety of tints in the foliage, for I had been induced to expect a dull, monotonous, everbrown tint pervading the landscape. But it is not so, at least in this part of the country, especially about Wooloomooloo; there seems to be a great variety of tint, and green of as lively a hue as any we see in England

It is impossible to conceive anything more delightful than the climate, so far as I have yet experienced. Fine, clear and just agreeably warm. Yet I am told that the winter is the most agreeable season (this is the height of Summer in this hemisphere).

Christmas day - alone! at the Antipodes!

I attended St James' Church where the whole service was very satisfactorily performed by the Archdeacon (Dr Broughton). The Church was profusely decorated with a variety of evergreen and flowering shrubs, which in England would be esteemed rare and curious exotics, but which here are common as thistles. Beautiful as they are, they do not equal in my eyes, the rich luxuriance of the Holly, the Laurel, and the broad-leafed Ivy with its clusters of dark berries, all so much more lovely because so dear to the heart of the Exile.

The scene in the harbour is lively and pretty. We have the "Crocodile" Frigate, the "Zebra" Sloop of War, and upwards of 40 sail of other vessels, many of them fine, large Ships, all at anchor in the Cove. The harbour is confessedly the finest in the world. Fort Macquarie, a picturesque but not very formidable fortification which projects into the Cove, and forms, as it were, one arm of that part of the Harbour, has a very pretty effect at all times, and particularly now, from the "Crocodile's" men being encamped there; and the Flag is hoisted every day on the Tower, with the usual ceremonies.

Nature appears in this country to have indulged in most extraordinary fancies (if I may say so). Here are salt water Lakes 300 feet above the level of the Sea; rivers which rise near the coast and flow inland; fine cod are found in fresh water, and the Pike inhabits the ocean. Everything appears to be reversed, and calculated to set all speculation at defiance. The Botany, the Geology, the Ornithology, the ichtheology, etc. of the country are all different from any others, and form a separate study in themselves. General principles seem not to hold good, and all one's preconceived notions are continually at fault. It is certainly a wonderful country, and affords a fine field for any ambition.

Yesterday one of the Chiefs of these poor creatures, the Natives, brought me a spear for which I gave him a sixpence; at least, a piece of silver about that value, called a dump. The Spear is about 10 feet long the shaft of some very light wood, but the point is of a different nature and very hard and sharp. It is firmly fastened to the shaft by a sort of resinous gum which exudes in great quantities from the grass trees, and is fully two feet long.

Many of the Chiefs have a sort of badge, or ornament, of brass hung round the neck. It is in the form of a crescent with the name of the tribe inscribed on it. I was reading this aloud: "Chief of the Câttáyâh" when the whole party set up a shout, repeating the word "Cattayáh" with a long emphasis on the last syllable, apparently delighted with my mispronunciation.

Many of their words are soft and pretty, but to me the language is at present an unintelligible gabble. The few seen about Sydney are terribly debased and degraded by their association with the refuse of mankind planted on their shores, and have imbibed all the vices of civilisation, without any of its virtues.

My friend Cattayáh, has promised to bring me some more of their weapons, which are curious. The womerah or throwing stick, the ëlamán or shield and the sort of javelin or dart, thrown from a sort of sling.

My favorite walk is what is called the "Domain". This consists merely of a considerable tract of land, beyond Government House and attached to it as a Park, but left in its natural state with the exception of the Botanical Garden near the centre, and the numerous walks and drives, the principal of which terminate at the extreme point of a ledge of rock, the extremity of this neck of land jutting into the Cove. A large seat or alcove has been cut out of the solid rock with an inscription above it, intimating that for the design and execution of all these improvements, the public are indebted to Mrs Macquarie. She is the wife of the late Governor, and they are both much beloved and regretted. These walks and drives are disposed with so much taste and every peep of the Cove and its beautiful shores is so rich and so varied, that I find fresh beauties every time I visit it. My favorite "Stance" is a projecting ledge of rock which overhangs the shore about 30 feet high just over the Stone Seat I have described which is called "Mrs Macquarie's Chair". There, with the most lovely part of the Cove and the romantic "Garden Island" before me, I sit or stand. The gentle splash of the tiny waves beneath me inspiring a soothing melancholy, my thoughts insensibly turning to dear England. Here I have now been watching the full moon rising in cloudless majesty over the North Head. The scene is surpassingly lovely - no pen or pencil can do justice to it. So calm, so tranquil, so motionless except for the dancing of the rippling waves in the broad stream of moon-light and occasionally a white sail skimming as if by magic athwart the Cove. To the right is Garden Island and the deep bay called Farm Cove in front. Several other points project into the Cove, all wooded to the water's edge, and these, the bold, bluff, rocky headlands, called the North and South Heads, with the LightHouse, form the background. Beyond is the dark, unfathomable ocean, too distant to be distinguished. This magnificent harbour is not one large Bay only, but a continued succession of bays or coves, the shores of all beautifully wooded, and affording perfect shelter for shipping, from the Heads up to the town, and even beyond, for the Parramatta River nearly 15 miles up, is more like a deeply indented estuary than a river and has deep anchorage some miles beyond the port.

The country round is romantic and picturesque, though in point of fact sterile in the extreme. Hundreds of thousands of acres, composed of nothing but fine white sea sand, in which you would suppose it impossible for anything to vegetate, but which produces endless varieties of plants and shrubs (all evergreen) which in England would be accounted the most valuable rarities. I collected a most beautiful bouquet to adorn my little cottage. There are no trees of any height to be seen, excepting here and there, the scathed and blasted trunk of a gum tree. The hills are lofty, and the whole surface of this part of the country beautifully undulating. At a distance of six or seven miles, the waters of the far-famed Botany Bay stretch away to the westward like an inland sea, and the Range of Blue Mountains in the background, form altogether a very lovely landscape.

The foliage of the trees and underwood is by no means so "everbrown" as I had expected. The generally sombre tints are relieved and enlivened by many large masses of green, bright and vivid enough to do honour to old England. The climate, so far as I may yet form an opinion, is most lovely.

It is glorious to see the sun rise day after day, and travel through an almost cloudless sky. And there is continually a refreshing sea-breeze which prevents the heat from becoming oppressive. I walk in the very heat of the day without feeling any inconvenience. Not even the lassitude and weariness which is produced by exertion in very hot weather in England. I attribute this to the clearness of the atmosphere, and the peculiar lightness of the air. And then the mornings and evenings are so delicious, the air blows cool and refreshing without the slightest damp or chilliness; even the twilight, tho' shorter than in England, is most luxurious, for after the sun has set in one blaze of splendour, it is long ere the sky loses the bright influence of his beams. Then it becomes gradually, "fretted with golden fire", "thick inlaid with patinas of bright gold" - compared with which our northern skies are cold and splendourless (if I may coin such a word).

Of the town itself, little can be said, there a some pretty cottages, the residence of Government Officers, and the so called "streets" resemble the suburbs of London, small houses with little strips of garden in front, some in rows, some detached.

The public buildings in Sydney are very paltry and insignificant. The Barracks are very extensive, and occupy a large portion of the best part of the town, but they do not possess any architectural beauty. The Military Hospital is in a similar style, and well situated. The Churches (there are two: St. Philip's and St James) are both plain, unpretending structures. The latter, the most modern, where all is new; it is built of brick, and is rather a handsome structure with a lofty spire surmounted by a ball and cross of stone, the interior is very neat, the fittings being of native Cedar, a dark wood resembling mahogany; but it is disfigured by two galleries, one appropriated to the convicts, the other to the Soldiers. There is a very fine Organ, and the manner in which the Service is performed gave one great satisfaction. St. Philip's is beautifully situated at the other extremity of the town, on a lofty promontory overlooking the harbour and has really some pretentions (in appearance) to antiquity, for it was the first place for public worship built in the Colony and is a curious specimen of Church architecture, it consists of a round tower built of unhewn stone and a low nave or chancel partly of stone and wood; the interior is also devoid of any attempt at ornament, and is dark and inconvenient. But what a delightful reflection it is that even here, in a penal settlement, a place appropriated to the reception of the very refuse of mankind, of wretches who have merited the gallows by a hundred acts of villainy, a settlement now which has only been established 40 years, our noble and glorious country thus extends her wise and holy institutions to the remotest quarters of the globe; and our holy Church holds forth her arms to recover the most hardened offenders, and offers to the most depraved of mankind the means of reconciliation with God and man. The Roman Catholic Chapel and the Government Stables are here considered the finest buildings in the Colony, but they seem to me very poor specimens of Architecture. The former is quite in an unfinished state and likely to remain so; but Popish Priests in the present day, like the monks of old, are very judicious in selecting their scites. The view from the back of the Chapel is the most beautiful I have seen.

There is nothing I have yet seen which so strongly excites my disgust and pity as these miserable natives. They are the most wretched and degraded class of human beings it is possible to conceive, in form and face more resembling the Baboon than anything human. They are attenuated with famine, for they care not for food, but spirits are their delight. Their limbs are mere skin and bone, their faces hideous beyond description; the forehead flat and prominent, the eyes small, the nose flat and wide, the cheeks sunken and chin projecting immoderately, their colour a sooty dingy black. The Government provides them with blankets and obliges them to appear in Sydney clothed, but they have no idea of the use of clothing, and it is generally put on in such a manner that they might almost as well be without it. The men all carry "waddies" or large clubs and with these will give and receive such blows on their heads as would certainly fracture the skull of an European. They have an immense quantity of coarse black hair, which hangs in thick pelts or tresses over their faces, like the threads of a mop. All that I have seen (both male and female) have lost the two front teeth of the upper jaw, which operation is performed by punching them out. I have witnessed some disgusting scenes of intoxication and consequent fighting among these poor creatures, who are so weak that the washing of a Rum cask, or even a sugar bag steeped in water produces that effect. I saw a woman belabouring a man with an immense stick over the head in a way which would have caused concussion of the brain in an ordinary skull, he sitting all the time with his arms folded, taking it as coolly as possible.

There were about 30 of them in the Street this afternoon, dancing, singing and screaming and howling in the most extraordinary manner. Their violent and uncouth gestures and strange wild, monotonous song interested me much; the perfect time they keep, jumping and raising the arms in different attitudes, sometimes slowly, then with gradually increasing vehemence and rapidity, the song becoming a dismal howl, in which the most obvious sound is something like "murra murra jaa, "murra murra fee", the last notes prolonged amazingly, is very curious. But it is a pitiable exhibition, as they are always more or less in a state of intoxication. They are very rapidly diminishing in numbers, and it is anticipated that a very few years more will see their entire destruction. This, their inevitable fate, is the less to be regretted, as every effort for their instruction and improvement has utterly failed. They have in this country been generally well treated, but I hear that in Van Dieman's Land there is terrible work. They are a more formidable race there than these poor creatures and the settlers have found them so determinedly hostile, that they actually go out in parties and shoot the Natives like mad dogs. A gentleman who has just come up from Hobart Town told me that he saw one man bringing the heads of twelve whom he had shot himself and whose heads he produced in Hobart Town lest he should not be credited. I know not which is the worst, destroying these poor creatures in this way, or murdering them more slowly and more painfully by the sure contamination of our vices. It is a painful reflection.

Janry 16th 1830 - I have now turned my back on Sydney, and entered upon my travels in the interior, thus commencing a fresh chapter, which I trust will not prove a "Chapter of Accidents".

I despatched my equipage yesterday consisting of 4 Pack Bullocks and Six Convict Servants, with orders to encamp a few miles beyond Parramatta, 15 miles from Sydney, and there await my arrival. I rode to Parramatta to breakfast this morning, and after transacting some business, joined my camp near a place called "Broken Back Bridge". Whether so called from the frail nature of the long, low wooden bridge which here crosses an insignificant creek, very often a mere swamp, I could not learn.

The spot occupied by the tents, tho' not far from the high road, is extremely wild and picturesque. An open glade in the Forest with a small stream brawling over rocks and stones in front and on one side is a large Corn Mill (the sighing and sobbing of the Steam engine annoys me hugely at the present moment). In the background of the picture is the long wooden bridge, and the dark forest forms the rest. Here and there the scorched stump of some gigantic tree stands out, giving effect to the outline. The whole scene is highly picturesque.

The men with their wild, shagged dogs lying in groups about their blazing fires, and the patient bullocks released from their loads straying away through the depths of the Forest in search of pasture, would make a good subject for a Salvator Rosa.

My tent is circular, of very comfortable dimensions. Round the Pole in the centre are suspended my firearms, consisting of two muskets and bayonets, 4 Pistols and my fowling piece, with other miscellaneous articles. On one side is my bed; on the other my saddle and bridles, canteen, box of books and apparel, Theodolite and other instruments all reduced to the smallest possible number and bulk, for the necessity of transport.

My horse is tethered at the back of the tent and thus with the addition of sundry sacks of Flour and casks of Salt Pork doing duty as tables etc., the description of my tent is complete. My bed I should describe as being of a rather ingenious construction, very simple and portable, it is merely a piece of coarse canvas about six feet long, folded in on either side so as to admit of two light poles being passed through. These rest at each end on a box, and when in motion the poles are drawn out and the whole is rolled together and put into a bag thus forming a convenient load for a pack-horse or bullock.

This morning I went to the Church at Parramatta. It is a neat structure with two spires at the west end composed of wood and covered with the Shingle which is universally in use in the Colony for roofing. It is merely a hard wood split into pieces about the size and shape of a tile, and these are nailed, one over the other after the manner of slates which they very soon resemble in colour from the influence of the sun and rains.

The Service was very indifferently performed, the Chaplain Mr Marsden being absent. I could not learn who officiated in his room, but it was evident from the scanty congregation, that but little regard is paid to the ordinances of religion here. I afterwards rode round the Government Domain.

It is difficult to imagine anything more beautiful or indeed more completely English in its character excepting that the trees and shrubs are all so different. The wood is open and parklike, and the drives are very tastefully laid out, and so disposed as to give the idea of an extensive Park and pleasure ground. The house is rather small for a gubernatorial residence, but very prettily situated on a rising ground which commands a delightful view. There are extensive stables and guardhouse: and an Observatory built by Sir Thos. Brisbane (when Governor) He resided here principally, preferring it to Sydney.

The town of Parramatta, if it can yet be called such, is judiciously laid out. The intended streets being all at right angles, and of ample width at present. The houses are few and mean and much scattered, so that they cover an immense space of ground. There are however some very pretty cottages around. The River is at present a nonentity being nearly dry, the width and height of the Bridge alone indicating the existence of such a thing.

Returning to my tent about 5 oclock, I took my solitary repast, and then beguiled my solitude with another ramble into the bush. With my gun on my shoulder (for protection not for murder) I strolled through scenes so romantic, so wild, so novel, no description can convey any adequate idea of the country. The Underwood hereabouts is thin and scanty, but there are gigantic Trees principally Gum or Eucalyptus of several species, which with their lofty trunks and gnarled and twisted branches, at this time of the year generally denuded of their bark, have a wild and singular appearance. There are, too, rocky ravines of perhaps 100 or 150 feet deep, running nearly parallel to each other, forming a channel for an insignificant stream which in the rainy season probably swells into a torrent.

Janry 18th 1830 - At daylight this morning our camp was in motion, and as pack bullocks do not travel very fast we are obliged to make short stages. About noon I stopped at a little hut by the roadside dignified by the name of an "Inn" about 15 miles from our last camp. Here a very civil, but dirty, slatternly woman prepared me in about 5 minutes a very good breakfast of brown bread, bacon and eggs with milk and tea: ............[?] considering the keenness of my appetite was a great desideratum, and I did ample justice to the fare homely as it was.

In about an hour my equipage arrived and we encamped in the Forest at the back of the Inn. Immediately after I started gun in hand, on a Crusoe-like search for water, and after long and toilsome walking, and traversing two rocky ravines to a great distance, I returned baffled and disappointed to my camp. Water there was none but the stagnant remains of the last rains left in two or three hollows of the rocks.

The country we traversed this day is of the same general character as throughout this part of the Colony, endless tracts of Forest, interminable forest, intersected with deep, rocky ravines. The soil almost everywhere composed of sandy rock which would be supposed incapable of bearing the stupendous Gum and Ironbark Trees, in which it is everywhere prolific. After another long and anxious exploratory ramble I had the good fortune to discover water in a rocky gully which bore traces of being the bed of a considerable stream at some periods, no doubt a mountain Torrent after heavy rain. I found a very romantic spot in the deepest part of the Glen, partially concealed by an overhanging rock. Here I enjoyed the luxury of a bath. The water was deliciously cool and clear, and refreshed me wonderfully after the fatigue I had undergone. I actually found myself whistling "Le Vaillent Troubadour" as I dressed myself in my cool grotto and Pope's lines occurred to my mind, in which I apostrophised the nymph or naiad of the stream as reproaching me for my intrusion in these terms "Oh spare my slumbers, gently tread the cave "And drink in silence - or in silence lave."

We have our six tents pitched amid the depths of the forest, and the men have kindled a huge fire at the foot of a Gum tree, whose gigantic barkless trunk, and twisted branching arms gleam with a lurid redness in its light. The "laughing Jackass" has been amusing us with its very curious note. The cognomen bestowed on this bird is very appropriate, for the noise it makes cannot be said to resemble any known sound, while anyone must at once recognize it as precisely the sound to be expected from a mirthful donkey, could such a thing be imagined. It is a large shy bird, but often heard in the morning and evening, and belongs to the family of Kingfishers. The traveller is often waked at day dawn by the long conversations and hearty laughter of several of these birds, and tho' they fly singly or in pairs generally, yet at early morn or dewy eve, more are often seen and the noise they make is astonishing. In some parts of the Colony, he is called "the Settler's Clock" from his constantly preceding the dawn with his noisy mirth.

My greatest torment is the insect host which everywhere assails me, by day myriads of flies, the most impudent, pertinacious perservering in their attacks, and at night the Mosquitoes give me no peace. They are unremitting in their bloodthirsty calling, and I bear lamentable proof of the penetrating power of their proboscis. Tonight I have a new pest to contend with, myriads of very small flies, which bite very sharply, but besides are so voracious, they get into my ink, my pen, my eyes, my mouth; and smother my candle too, yet even this fiery destruction seems not any diminution of their number. They come in clouds into my tent but these are trifles in the bush!

I think myself peculiarly fortunate in being now quietly seated in my tent. Seeing that I had every prospect, a short time since, of spending the night in a hollow tree, or in a cleft of the rocks. I had strayed from the camp in search of game, and neglecting to look at my compass when I started, I soon lost all track, and when I wished to return to the tents, found myself completely bewhildered. I had walked a considerable distance. I knew no road or track or human habitation was near, nothing but interminable Forest and in many parts almost impenetrable brush and underwood added to which night was approaching, and the darkness of the wood and the overhanging rocks increased the difficulty of walking. After wandering in this perplexity for several hours, I at length fired my gun and gave a loud halloo, which to my great satisfaction was answered from my camp, and by following the sound,and repeatedly hallooing I at length reached my tent.

There is no game to be met with in this wild part of the country. The Kanguroo has retreated to the open grassy plains, and the birds are only screaming Cockatoos and flights of Parrots which are only seen winging their way at a great height towards the distant water courses or alighting for a short time in the tops of the highest trees, making an incessant shrill chatter somewhat like the starling when assembling for its annual migration.

Our journey this day has been through a country exactly of the same character as the two preceding. Still Forest, interminable Forest, rocky ravines, and dense "brushes" as the thick impenetrable underwood is technically called. At noon we encamped at a spot known as the "Finger Post", inasmuch as a board nailed to a Tree bears the very gratifying information "Good water here". Laconic, but invaluable intimation. Since leaving Best's the "quasi" Inn, we had seen nothing but endless Forest, not a hut, or a field, or open space, excepting here and there when the summit of a rocky hill gives a fine view of the country. Still one vast Forest, backed by the Blue Mountains. But descending, the scenery in some of the Ravines, is such as no pen could describe, and no painter but a Gaspard Poussin delineate. In one we this day traversed, the rocks rose on either side to the height of 150 feet perpendicular, Thrown into all kinds of wild and romantic shapes, interspersed with lofty trees, and an endless variety of flowering shrubs. The singular grass-tree, too, grows in wild profusion and is a formidable enemy in traversing these ravines, for the blades of the grass cut like a knife, and the points are sharp as a needle. The stem rises 8 or ten feet, its bark is curiously soft like coarse velvet, and is a rich brown or black. It exudes quantities of a resinous gum, which burns with a bright light, and a pleasant aromatic perfume.

I have not yet seen any snakes, but I am continually cautioned to beware of them, as they are numerous in all the undisturbed parts of the country, especially near the rivers.

We are now approaching the Hawkesbury and have had occasional peeps of this beautiful stream, and the fertile flats on its banks. We are not 50 miles from Sydney, yet we have travelled a country as wild, and a solitude as profound as if no human beings existed in these desolate Forests; or the enterprize and industry of the white man had never reached these shores. But now the scene changes, descending by a rocky and precipitous pass, and emerging from the Forest, the river appears some 50 feet below, winding round a point comparatively low, and the Farm and Inn called Wiseman's, judiciously placed in the bend of the river, on a fine alluvial flat, all in rich cultivation, affords quite a relief to the eye and mind, almost wearied with the monotony of chaotic rock and primeval Forest.

But the whole scene is magnificent. Rocks piled on Rocks in every conceivable fantastic form and shape often rising at least 300 feet perpendicular, and covered partially with timber and brush, while below the river which is here about half a mile wide, winds through the narrow valley giving richness and beauty to the landscape. It is navigable thus far for vessels of 300 Tons burthen, and is affected by the Tide at least 20 miles higher, being here 50 miles from the sea.

Tomorrow we have to cross the river, and pursue our journey northward. Our enterprize partakes strongly of the ludricous, as well as of the picturesque. The scenery is so magnificent, so wild; the actors in the scene such a contrast: the wide and rapid river, The heavy flat Ferry boat with our baggage is slowly crossing, and the gambols of the unwilling bullocks resisting the efforts of the men to coax them into the large Punt which is to be towed over by the boat are sufficiently ludicrous. Some of them are very refractory, and the shouting of the men, awakening echoes among the rocks, and disturbing the quiet solitude, altogether forms a picture as novel as striking to one as I stand on the bank of the river watching the scene.

Our camp is now pitched in a romantic sequestered Glen on the Northern bank of the River. Open to the water, but shut in on all other sides by the same towering masses of rock and wood, which as the Glen rapidly narrows allmost meet at the head, leaving only a narrow rocky bed for a mountain torrent.

The weather has been dull for some days, and the rain is now descending merrily. My tent being new is not yet water tight so I calculate on being rather damp ere morning. However it is much needed and wished for, and will do more good in an hour, than I shall in a year.

23rd Janry - Today the rain has been falling in abundance at intervals but, unwilling to lose time, I have been exploring the valley beyond our camp, which is one of the most beautiful and romantic scenes imaginable. The valley is of considerable extent covered with long reedy grass of the brightest verdure, surrounded by ranges of lofty hills from 300 to 500 feet high, completely clothed by wood, excepting where the dark grey rocks stand out from among the trees in every variety of wild and fantastic shape. At the extremity of the valley, near the river, a large herd of cattle was feeding, giving life in some degree to a scene otherwise of the deepest solitude.

I love to wander here alone, and standing on a projecting ledge of rock, to luxuriate in the tranquil beauty of the spot, my thoughts involuntarily turning to my much loved country, contrasting her many scenes of beauty and grandeur, with the wild magnificence of this untrodden land.

Sunday in the wilderness! But for my own feelings this day might pass as others. There is nothing external to remind one of the day of rest. The dead and solemn stillness which reigns throughout this profound solitude marks every day alike. There are no sounds of labour, to be hushed on the Christian's day of rest, no assemblage of the village congregation to go up to the House of God. In Sydney and some of the other towns in the Colony, there are Churches and some attention is paid to the external forms of Religion, but in the country, and among the settlers generally, as well as among many in the towns also, the Sabbath is as any other day, or if there be any distinction it is marked by a greater degree of profligacy.

It is indeed a grievous thing to mark the generally low standard of morality that prevails even among the higher classes (if I may use the term). I have been astonished at the degree and extent of vice and depravity which is here indulged. Bad as I was prepared to find the morals of a community like this, it far surpasses my expectations. Crimes which are never heard of in England are committed here and excite scarcely astonishment. But it is sad and disgusting to witness such a state of things, and tends to remind me most painfully, that I am not in old England, where, whatever people may really be, in heart and life, vice at least pays homage to virtue by disguising itself as much as possible.

Monday - This morning I started early in a four oared boat some miles up the River, to measure some Farms in that direction. I found they lay about 15 miles up a tributary of the Hawkesbury called Webb's Creek. The scenery is wild, romantic and beautiful beyond description. The river winds in the most picturesque manner through the glens formed by these stupendous rocky ranges, sometimes flowing close to the base of gigantic walls of rock, almost perpendicular, which cast a dark shadow across the stream and then meandering through extensive alluvial flats, in many places covered with plantations of Indian Corn

After rowing thus about ten miles up the Creek, the water became too shallow for the boat and we were obliged to land. We had then to walk five miles farther through scenery precisely similar, for in its leading features, the country is every where alike, and then reached the place we were in search of. It is a miserable, out of the way place, and finding that my work would occupy me some days, and that I could here procure no provisions for my men, I was obliged to return to the camp which we did not reach till midnight, after a most fatiguing day.

The next morning I retraced my steps, accompanied by five of my men each carrying his blanket and 4 days provision. I had my cloak to sleep in, and my desk strapped at my back like a soldier's Knapsack. Thus equipped we reached our destination in good time.

The owner of the Farm (a transported gypsey) and his family inhabited a small, low hut, too mean literally for any well bred Pig in England. Beside it was an unfinished house, and another hut open in front and on one side, while a few sheets of Bark hastily stripped from the trees which grew around were laid over the roof, and offered to me and my men as a sleeping apartment. It was all the hospitality this poor man had to offer, and as we had expected to sleep in a cave, or in the open air we thought ourselves uncommonly well lodged comparatively.

From sheer fatigue, I slept well, tho' not luxuriously. But when I thought of the drawing room at Nuttall[?], the contrast with my present quarters excited a bitter smile, followed by a heavy sigh: behold me stretched on the ground in a bark hut in the wilds of Australia, around me 5 convicted felons sleeping in peace after a hard days work from sunrise to sunset: Ah, labour is a blessing and a boon to sinful man.

In England what apprehension would be felt with regard to these ruffians (as many of the convicts really are), but I have no fears; the Survey Department is the best service for them, and they know it; and if they are under judicious management, they generally behave very well. They work hard with me, and have no time for mischief, and as I spare not myself, they cannot complain but I make them as comfortable as my circumstances admit, and invariably treat them with firmness, though without unnecessary harshness and severity.

One of my men killed a large black snake this morning. It is the first I have seen. It measured 4 feet 6 inches, and when dissected was found to contain 18 young ones. This is a proof that these snakes, at least, are viviparous. The colour of the skin is a rich velvet black on the back and the under part a beautiful rose colour. They are exceedingly venomous and at some seasons very bold, not retreating from man as the race so generally do but even sometimes becoming the aggressor.

Numbers of Paraquets, Lacories, Mocking birds and many others have been screaming around us this day. At one shot I killed two magnificent Cockatoos measuring upwards of 3 feet across the wings. They are of a rare and beautiful species, and more properly belong to the Mackaw tribe; the head is ash colour with a sort of crest tinged with yellow, the neck is yellow the body and wings jet black, the tail feathers the same but with five broad bands of bright crimson which when the tail is spread like a fan gives it a most gorgeous appearance.

I was right glad when my task was completed, and I returned to my tent in the Glen opposite "Wisemans". After recruiting myself with a bath and some food, for we had been on very short rations during our work on "Webbs Creek", I arranged to break up our Camp, and sending on the tents and baggage, remain over Sunday at the Inn.

As our tents were being struck, and the baggage packed, I could not help laughing at the wild and whimsical scene before me. Imagine on the edge of a rocky Ravine in the midst of a thick Forest, sixteen bullocks standing in every variety of position, some with huge packs on their backs, others patiently receiving their loads, while still more exhibit by strange and awkward gambols their extreme objection to such a proceeding. But at last they are off defiling slowly through the dark woods, the voices of the men as they encourage or threaten them dying away in the distance. I then crossed the river and took up my quarters at the Inn aforesaid, called Wiseman's.

Sunday again.- Learning that there would be Service at a place about a mile down the River I proceeded Thither in my Landlord's boat, happy to find that he and some of his family were ready to attend with me, the public ordinances of the Church. I have been in many curious places of worship, but never have I heard the word of God preached in such a Church as this. It is merely a hut built of split logs, laid one upon another, the interstices filled up with mud. The roof is formed of sheets of Bark, the floor is the earth itself! Some rough brushes are fixed in the earth, and a rude sort of desk or pulpit, completed the internal fittings. Yet our beautiful service was very decently performed, by one who is called a Catechist, a good and earnest tho' not an educated man, who is appointed to the charge of a certain District for the purpose of educating and catechising the children of the settlers scattered about in these remote wilds. The families so isolated are generally deplorably ignorant and often depraved, being the liberated convicts, who by the expiration of their sentences; or by a course of tolerably regular conduct during servitude, have obtained indulgence.

I spent the remainder of the day with an Officer of our Department, stationed here in charge of an Iron gang (for the purpose of forming this portion of the Great North Road, a gigantic work commenced by our Chief about 2 years since). Of the kindness and hospitality of this gentleman and his family, I cannot speak too highly: and indeed of all the settlers, rich and poor, with whom I have come in contact, I can attest their open hearted liberality, and unbounded hospitality. Whenever I approach a Farm, milk, butter, eggs and poultry are immediately sent for my acceptance, and but rarely can I prevail on my hosts to take any remuneration.

On Monday I intended to walk to the Camp Stationed about 20 miles to the northward, for our horses have been lost and we can get no tidings of them. But finding it would not be safe to attempt walking alone, I consented to take two guides from the road party, and to pass the night at a Station about 12 miles on, where the overseer of the working gangs would give me a hammock in his hut.

These Iron gangs, as they are called, consist of the most hardened ruffians, who are sent to expiate their crimes after repeated convictions in the Colony, and are indeed the most desperate and incorrigible offenders. They work in Irons on the roads, wear a peculiar party coloured dress, and are deprived of many of the comforts which the other convicts are allowed to enjoy. Poor creatures, it is a most humiliating and painful sight, to meet several hundreds of these wretched beings, whose clanking chains, no less than their ruffianly countenances, bespeak the sad degradation of human nature, debased by crime, below the level of the brute.

I started then, accompanied by two of these fellows as guides, to walk 12 miles in a pouring rain through the thick Forest, with scarcely any distinguishable track. It was well we had a Magistrate's protection for we met two gangs of these ruffians who had been out on a marauding party, and who but for our guides, would certainly have stripped us, if they had not even taken our lives. It is found impossible to keep up such strict surveillance as to prevent these outbreaks occasionally, for the overseers and constables are often convicts themselves and, destitute of all principle, connive at crime which perhaps they have little power and less inclination to check, especially as they have been sometimes known to share the booty with the depredators.

I suffered severely during this walk over almost impracticable paths, and across ranges and up rocky gullies which even in fine weather and by daylight would have been very difficult to travel. But it was near 10 o'clock at night ere we reached the Station, and I was thankful to get into the overseer's hut, and turn into my hammock. But I could not sleep. I suffered severely from intense fatigue and over-exertion.

My thoughts wandered back to my home and native land, and the contrast of my present position came forcibly before me: the hut in which I lay was the merest hovel, composed of stakes driven into the earth. The interstices filled up with mud, the roof formed of sheets of Bark; my sole companions about 40 of the Most desperate ruffians in the world, whose clanking chains, and Bacchanalian shouts at intervals suggested the idea of a cave of Bandits rather than anything else. But a few short months ago I had been at home, in dear glorious England, the fountainhead of all that is noble and good and great. What a contrast!

I was too ill to move next day and lay in my hammock, in a sort of dream-waking. Watching the rain pouring down, stealing in large black drops through the bark roof, and "chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancies". But though perfectly defenseless these poor creatures shewed me as much civility as was in their power and thus in penetrating even into the arcana of an Iron gang I felt I had but turned a new page in the strange journal of human existence.

The following day I performed alone the remaining 8 miles to my camp at Hungry Flat, a sufficiently appropriate name, seeing that it is perfectly barren and destitute of food for bird or beast. Rugged rocky ravines, tracks of stony desert producing only acrid prickly shrubs, stunted brushwood, dry, wiry leaves or vines, and gaunt, scathed looking gum trees; not a blade of grass, or any succulent herb to be seen. This is the character of this region, and we were fain to leave it as soon as possible lest our bullocks should be starved.

At daylight our little party were in motion, and by six oclock our cavalcade moved forward. About 10 we gladly halted to accept the invitation of a Young Settler, whose Farm we were passing, to breakfast with him. He has selected a beautiful spot, and is building a house in a delightful situation, which when completed will be very comfortable. Though it has no pretensions to architectural beauty, the material is the durable timber of the country. His Farm is well stocked, and even his hut with the many books laying about, had a comfortable home look, which is very attractive. I thought how much real happiness may be enjoyed even in a wilderness like this: far removed from the busy moving world without. Our kind host seemed perfectly contented, he gave us a most hospitable reception, and we parted with mutual regret.

In my afternoon's march, I encountered 3 magnificent eagles, one of which I shot. It measured upwards of 7 feet across the wings. Its plumage was very beautiful, a rich mottled brown. I felt a pang of conscience as he raised his noble eye (I could have fancied reproachfully) at his murderer, and could almost have foresworn my gun, such remorse I felt for depriving him of his joyous bright existence so wantonly. And yet it was a good deed too, for these birds are exceedingly fierce and bold, and very destructive among the sheep. But still as I gazed upon the noble bird which had plumed himself and looked up to the morning sun so proudly, I confess I felt more compunction than a sportsman could understand.

I have been measuring the whole day, and tomorrow we start again, having to trace and mark a road straight through the bush to the river Hunter, a distance of 18 miles. It is fatiguing work, but fortunately the weather is beautiful.

I have just found an "animated straw", one of the "mantis" tribe, a most curious creature. It is difficult to believe it could possess the breath of life. It is but a small one but I have seen some 8 inches long and there is a great variety of the species in this country. One, which is called the "praying mantis", half rears itself and folds the two forelegs, or arms, in a beseeching attitude, and is very beautifully marked with spots of a vivid metallic lustrous blue, the body being generally a very pale sea green. Some I have seen appear to have the rudiments of wings similar to the locust, but I have so little time for any lengthened observations, as for carrying on any close investigations, that I cannot speak with accuracy on these curious and interesting objects.

We have had immense labour and the heat has been, and still is, intense. My face, throat and hands are entirely skinned from the effects of the sun. It is impossible to describe the intenseness of its burning rays, pouring down with unmitigated force, scorching and withering every living thing exposed to it. And we have been walking 15 or 20 miles a day, over rocks and burning sand which literally blisters our feet, with no food or refreshment but an occasional drink at some stagnant pool which a well bred dog in England would refuse, the remains of the last year's rains. But our sufferings from thirst made even this a boon. After some days of this excessive toil, we at length reached the "great River Hunter", but behold, instead of the wide and rapid stream I had expected, only an extensive bed of sand and gravel with here and there a stagnant pool of dirty water!

Such was my first view of the Hunter. Such are most if not all the rivers of the Colony, excepting just after the uncertain rainy seasons. If even these could be depended on it would be an advantage, but they are of rare and unlooked for recurrence.

At this time I learn there has been a drought of 3 years continuance. There is a wearisome sameness in the country.- You walk on for miles and miles, without the least change to relieve the eye or the mind, aching and weary of the hot parched burning sand and dark grey rocks.

But one evening we encamped on a very pretty spot, with a fine range of lofty Hills in front, the intervening grassy valley being lightly clothed with wood disposed in clumps and belts. At a little distance below numerous small wreaths of smoke indicated an encampment of Natives, and altho' very tired, I walked over to them. They were a fine body of men, 70 or 80 in number besides women and children. They were sitting or lying around their fires, each with his spears stuck in the ground beside him. Some of them had on a short cloak of opossum skins, but most were entirely naked, except a fillet of twisted opossum fur round the waist or loins. They seemed delighted to see me, laughed immoderately, insisted on shaking hands all round, and were very curious in their examination of my person and attire. They were much pleased with my watch and pocket compass, the latter especially, their lively expression indicating that they understood something of its use. Some of them were very fine-looking fellows: altogether a very superior race to those in the neighbourhood of Sydney, where from vicious association they have become reduced to the lowest grade of humanity. Of the "gins" or women I cannot say much, they were all ugly and loathsome with the exception of two or three. Shortly after sunset each woman took up a lighted stick and every family kindled a separate fire, the men shortly after joining them for the night. The effect of these arrangements was very curious, the 20 or 30 fires blazing in the Forest, and throwing a lurid glare over the gigantic trees, while the uncouth forms of these creatures passing to and fro, looking unlike inhabitants of the Earth, made me think of the incantation scene in Macbeth, as I walked back to my tent.

The next morning, many of them came to our camp, and at half past 5, our usual breakfast hour, I had some half dozen picanninnies (as they call the children), eating bread and butter and drinking tea in my tent. The poor Mothers, too, were delighted to make a hearty meal, exclaiming from time to time "Murry good Massa".

18th- I am now encamped on the Banks of the Hunter, one of the most fertile and beautiful parts of the Colony. Much of the land is occupied, much enclosed and in a high state of cultivation. Large fields of Indian Corn, some wheat and other grains and some fields of the Tobacco plant which is cultivated very successfully here, vary the scene and is quite a refreshment to the eye after so long confinement to the primeval wilderness, barren sandy ranges, rocky ravines and trackless forest.

But of the river itself little is to be seen. With some difficulty a stream may be traced winding its sinuous course, sometimes a mere rill in its sandy bed, at others widening into shallow pools.

I am now examining one of its tributaries, the "Wollombi Brook", which has a short and more rapid course and is consequently nearly dry. Its banks are traced by being fringed with trees only found in such a situation, the swamp and Forest Oak, and would be very beautiful if the Silver Stream over which these graceful trees seem to fall were indeed there. The foliage and appearance of the Forest Oak slightly resemble the Pine Tribe, but more soft and graceful.

My tent is pitched in a most lovely spot. I have been listening, not to the "sweet bird of night" but to the evensong of the Magpie, which is peculiarly sweet and plaintive. The young moon is setting clear and bright, partially visible through the trees. No noise pierces the night's dull ear save the deep, hollow (not unmusical) bass of the bull frog, a sound it is difficult to imagine can come from so small a creature and which it sends forth in measured cadence for such a length of time. The night is calm, starlight and beautiful. It carries my thoughts homewards. There is something, as every one must have experienced, in the soft stillness of a lovely night, which insensibly conjures up the remembrance of the past, recalls to the mind the incidents we may have encountered, the scenes we have passed through, the friends we have loved, the circumstances and events which may have afforded us delight; and such recollections are often pleasing yet mournful to the soul.

I am sometimes rather amused, as I sit in my tent in the evening, to hear the songs and stories circulating among my men. They are very merry and very happy, plenty of food, regular work - and no care. To them it is not a tythe so like transportation as it is to me. But for every state of life there is a source of consolation and support, adapted to its peculiar trials. The sense of duty, the consciousness of usefulness, ambition, and the prospect of the future support me - carelessness, love of ease, and the hope of liberty consoles them.

April 6th - I have been confined two days to my tent by heavy and incessant rain. This is the usual wet month in the Colony, and I much fear the rain will be a great interruption to my work. I have just commenced My Survey, which is a very interesting one and I am very anxious to get on with it. Today I ascended a lofty hill and from there took a sketch of the Broken Back range. It is a magnificent view, but nothing can be more absurd than dignifying every rising ground (as they do here) with the appellation of "Mountain". The loftiest of the "Broken Beg" are scarcely higher than the Wiltshire downs, to which indeed they bear a strong resemblance.

After several days of incessant rain I have resumed my labours, which are rendered still more fatiguing from the altered face of the country in consequence of it. I have frequently to wade the river now so swollen as to present a formidable obstacle I have been tracing part of the Broken Beg Range and the difficulty and labour of climbing along the mountain side is tremendous. In some places, scrambling from rock to rock, crossing precipitous ravines 150 feet deep and ascending almost perpendicular heights. But I met with some magnificent scenery which richly repaid my toil. Imagine two lofty hills forming at their base a deep and almost impenetrable ravine, where huge masses of rock, which from time to time have fallen from the summit of the mountains, and now break the force of the torrents which descend the sides of the Range with great violence in the rainy seasons, carrying along huge trees, rocks and stones into the abyss below. All here is chaotic confusion but clothed with luxuriant vegetation, while extending halfway up, the sides of the Mountains are clothed with the most beautiful groves of Myrtle, the real broad leafed flowering Myrtle, which scents the air as you push through the trees upwards of 20 feet high, and interspersed with other beautiful evergreens above, rock on rock, and crag piled on crag tower to inaccessable heights, and present innumerable caverns worn by the action of the atmosphere. These are the haunt of Kanguroo, Bandicoots, Opossums, etc.

While standing to rest for a few moments in one of these Myrtle groves, I actually heard the sound of water, much to my astonishment. Pursuing the sound I soon came to a very considerable stream, the result of the late rains, which was running down the side of the mountain, forming here and there a small cascade. It was completely concealed by the Myrtle and other shrubs, but added much to the quiet beauty of the scene.

Not far from this, on a little level spot surrounded by Myrtle, I came upon a new made grave. I concluded it was that of a Native child, for it was small and there are no European settlers near to choose so wild and secluded a spot for such a purpose.

Here and there on the side of the mountain might be traced the broad line of desolation formed by some huge mass of rock which had fallen from the heights above, with such tremendous force as to carry down before it huge trees, rocks and shrubs its path marked by ruin and destruction. The place abounds in Kanguroo and it is very curious to see these strange, wild creatures sitting up on their long, slender hind legs looking at you for a few moments with evident astonishment and then bounding away at a pace equally astonishing. The distance they sometimes spring is almost incredible: a large one will jump 20 paces at a single bound.

This has been a day of adventure. I was desirous to ascend a lofty hill called by the natives "Mattawee" in order to take some angles and bearings to connect my survey. It is a most singular formation, and cost us much exertion and labour to reach the summit. It rises rather gradually to a great height, and then presents a most curious cap of rock of at least 200 feet perpendicular, and this we climbed holding by the rocks, roots of trees, and tufts of grass. I had but one man with me, and we had a secure scramble, lifting and pulling each other up. I never once thought of how we were to get down again, so intent was I on the object I wished to accomplish. But when, after making my observations, we attempted the descent, we found all the peril of it. We were full two hours in the most arduous part of our task, and most thankful was I, when we reached the bottom for at one time I did not expect we should either of us reach the camp alive. We had often to lie down on our faces and lower ourselves over shelving rocks holding by roots and tufts of grass. Had they given way we must have been dashed to atoms. Then there was the river to cross which, swollen and rapid, presented a serious difficulty to us, tired and exhausted as we were. After searching for a ford in vain for some time, we had nothing for it but to swim which we accomplished with much labor, the current ran so strong

April 19th - I have been at work all day in a thick rain, which made the long grass about here almost like passing through a river. I returned to my tent just before dark after nine hours of incessant toil. Surveying is no light work in this country. No labourer in England eats his daily bread with greater toil, or lives more truly by "the sweat of his brow " (the primal curse) than I do. But I take pleasure in it, too. It is a beautiful art, and I delight to see the correct delineation of the country growing under my hand, and as I proceed, spreading over my map, it is the very triumph of Science transferring with minute correctness the features of the country to the paper.

This will be, in time, a noble country. It is easy to trace the changes which the chemical agencies of Sun and air are producing on the face of Nature. Rocks crumble from these scites, and rolling down the sides of the mountains, are dashed to fragments, decompose and mingle with the vegetable deposit which grass and weeds in the hollows and valleys are continually forming thus becoming by degrees fine productive soil. The older and loftier trees often decay or are destroyed by accidental fire, and in their place, spring up smaller trees of different species, which in a few years reach maturity and as rapidly decay. To them succeeds a growth of underwood, brush, or bushes which is of still shorter duration, and is followed by ferns, shewing that the soil has now become fit for the production of food for man. All in their turn have contributed by degrees to fertilize the soil and render the timber thinner. Thus it is that Nature, or to speak more properly Nature's God, prepares blessings for His creatures, which he leaves to their industry and skill to improve and perfect.

The late rains have occasioned a great flood at the Hawkesbury, which has washed away four bridges, drowned several people and destroyed pigs and poultry out of number. But notwithstanding, these floods are the subject of public rejoicings as, like the inundations of the Nile, they bring increased fertility to the soil and produce overwhelming crops of everything. The valley of the Hawkesbury is almost the granary of the Colony, and the crops of Indian Corn or Maize on the banks of the river are sometimes almost incredible.

The weather is now most beautiful. It is like a lovely May day in old England. The mornings and evenings are cold, and very heavy dews fall during the night, so that I am wet above the knees from the time I leave my tent, but I suffer nothing from this inconvenience, and the temperature is so delightful, it is quite a luxury to be out of doors.