had reached its head and its source, which was the drainage of a big hill.  There was no more water and no rock-holes, neither was there any gorge.  Some triodia grew on the hills, but none on the lower ground.  The valley now changed into a charming amphitheatre.  We had thus traced our Birthday Creek, to its own birthplace.  It has a short course, but a merry one, and had ended for us at its proper beginning.  As there appeared to be no water in the amphitheatre, we returned to the pool we had seen in the creek.  Several small branch creeks running through pretty little valleys joined our creek to-day.  We were now near some of the higher cones of the main chain, and could see that they were all entirely timberless, and that triodia grew upon their sides.  The spot we were now encamped upon was another scene of exquisite sylvan beauty.  We had now been a month in the field, as to-morrow was the 4th of September, and I could certainly congratulate myself upon the result of my first month’s labour.

The night was cold and windy, dense nimbus clouds hovered just above the mountain peaks, and threatened a heavy downpour of rain, but the driving gale scattered them into the gelid regions of space, and after sunrise we had a perfectly clear sky.  I intended this morning to push through what seemed now, as it had always seemed from the first moment I saw this range, a main gap through the chain.  Going north round a pointed hill, we were soon in the trend of the pass; in five miles we reached the banks of a new creek, running westerly into another, or else into a large eucalyptus flat or swamp, which had no apparent outlet.  This heavy timber could be seen for two or three miles.  Advancing still further, I soon discovered that we were upon the reedy banks of a fast flowing stream, whose murmuring waters, ever rushing idly and unheeded on, were now for the first time disclosed to the delighted eyes of their discoverer.

Here I had found a spot where Nature truly had

“Shed o’er the scene her purest of crystal, her brightest of green.”

This was really a delightful discovery.  Everything was of the best kind here—­timber, water, grass, and mountains.  In all my wanderings, over thousands of miles in Australia, I never saw a more delightful and fanciful region than this, and one indeed where a white man might live and be happy.  My dreams of a former night were of a verity realised.

Geographically speaking, we had suddenly come almost upon the extreme head of a large water course.  Its trend here was nearly south, and I found it now ran through a long glen in that direction.

We saw several fine pools and ponds, where the reeds opened in the channel, and we flushed up and shot several lots of ducks.  This creek and glen I have named respectively the Ferdinand and Glen Ferdinand, after the Christian name of Baron von Mueller. (The names having a star * against them in this book denote contributors to the fund raised by Baron Mueller* for this expedition.—­E.G.) The glen extended nearly five miles, and where it ended, the water ceased to show upon the surface.  At the end of the glen we encamped, and I do not remember any day’s work during my life which gave me more pleasure than this, for I trust it will be believed that:—­