well-grown eucalyptus-trees with yellow bark.  These seemed to me very like the yellow jacket timber that grows on watercourses in parts of New South Wales and Queensland.  The water I had sent out to this place was just sufficient to fill up the camels.  The following day, at three miles from the camp, we came to some large granite boulders in the scrubs; but there were no receptacles for holding water at any time.  At sixteen miles we reached a dry salt lake on our left hand; this continued near our line for four miles.  Both yesterday and to-day we saw some native wallaby traps in the dense scrubs; these are simply long lines of sticks, boughs, bushes, etc., which, when first laid down, may be over a foot high; they are sometimes over a quarter of a mile long.  These lines meet each other at nearly right angles, and form a corner.  For a few yards on each side of the corner the fence is raised to between four and five feet, made somewhat substantial and laid with boughs.  Over this is thrown either a large net or a roofing of boughs.  I saw no signs of nets in this region.  The wallaby are hunted until they get alongside the fences; if they are not flurried they will hop along it until they get to a part which is too high, or they think it is; then they go up into the trap, where there is a small opening, and get knocked on the head for their pains by a black man inside.  At twenty miles we actually sighted a low hill.  Here was a change.  At four miles farther we reached its foot; there were salt lake depressions nearly all round us.  Here we found a small quantity of the little pea-vetch, which is such excellent food for the camels.

From the summit of this little hill, the first I had met for nearly 800 miles—­Mount Finke was the last—­another low scrubby ridge lay to the westward, and nearly across our course, with salt lakes intervening, and others lying nearly all round the horizon.  At the foot of the little hill we encamped.  A few hundred acres of ground were open, and there were clay-pans upon it, but no rain could have fallen here for ages I should imagine.  The hill was only 200 feet high, and it was composed of granite stones.  I was glad, however, to see some granite crop out, as we were now approaching the western coast-line formation; this I have always understood to be all granite, and it was about time that something like a change of country should occur.  The following day, in making for the low range, we found ourselves caught in the ramifications of some of the saline depressions, and had to go a long way round to avoid them.  Just before we reached the low range we passed the shore of another salt lake, which had a hard, firm, and quartz-pebbly bed, and we were enabled to travel across it to the hills; these we reached in sixteen miles from our last camp.  The view from the summit was as discouraging as ever.  To the west appeared densely scrubby rises, and to the south many salt channels existed, while in every