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.