To the north was the main chain, composed for the most part of individual high mounts, there being a valley between them and the hill I was on, and meandering along through this valley from the west I could trace the course of the Finke by its timber for some miles.  To the east a mass of high and jumbled hills appeared, and one bluff-faced mount was more conspicuous than the rest.  Nearer to me, and almost under my feet, was the gorge through which the river passes, and it appears to be the only pass through this chain.  I approached the precipice overlooking the gorge, and found the channel so flooded by the late rains, that it was impossible to get the horses up through it.  The hills which enclosed it were equally impracticable, and it was utterly useless to try to get horses over them.  The view to the west was gratifying, for the ranges appeared to run on in undiminished height in that direction, or a little north of it.  From the face of several of the hills climbed to-day, I saw streams of pure water running, probably caused by the late rains.  One hill I passed over I found to be composed of puddingstone, that is to say, a conglomeration of many kinds of stone mostly rounded and mixed up in a mass, and formed by the smothered bubblings of some ancient and ocean-quenched volcano.  The surface of the place now more particularly mentioned had been worn smooth by the action of the passage of water, so that it presented the appearance of an enormous tessellated pavement, before which the celebrated Roman one at Bognor, in Sussex, which I remember, when I was a boy, on a visit to Goodwood, though more artistically but not more fantastically arranged, would be compelled to hide its diminished head.  In the course of my rambles I noticed a great quantity of beautiful flowers upon the hills, of similar kinds to those collected in the Glen of Palms, and these interested me so greatly, that the day passed before I was aware, and I was made to remember the line, “How noiseless falls the foot of Time that only treads on flowers.”  I saw two kangaroos and one rock wallaby, but they were too wild to allow me to approach near enough to get a shot at them.  When I said I walked to-day, I really started on an old favourite horse called Cocky, that had carried me for years, and many a day have I had to thank him for getting me out of difficulties through his splendid powers of endurance.  I soon found the hills too rough for a horse, so fixing up his bridle, I said, “Now you stop there till I come back.”  I believe he knew everything I said, for I used frequently to talk to him.  When I came back at night, not thinking he would stay, as the other horses were all feeding within half a mile of him, there he was just as I had left him.  I was quite inclined to rest after my scrambles in the hills.  During the night nothing occurred to disturb our slumbers, which indeed were aided by the sounds of the rippling stream, which sang to us a soothing song.