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.)