94 THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 



between the wet, the steep inclines, the darkness, and, above all, 

 the wretched state of the road, it took us nearly three hours to 

 get over that short distance. Wet, cold, and wretched, we 

 arrived at our destination at last. 



However, a warm welcome and a night's rest cheered me so that 

 I was quite ready to commence operations next day. I visited 

 my old haunts, but found that they were of the past. North, south, 

 east, and west I travelled day after day, with very little success. 

 The truth is that mining and botany are incompatible. The mines 

 require firewood and timber, and the ruthless sawyer and wood- 

 splitter has no veneration or respect for the beauties of nature. 

 Magnificent trees, lovely bushes, and fern-covered glades soon 

 disappear ; years of such work have destroyed the environs of 

 Walhalla. Fortunately I fell in with Mr. Thomas, the mining 

 surveyor, who told me of a couple of fern-tree gullies northward 

 from Walhalla which were as yet in their primitive state. 



I determined to follow his instructions the following day. As 

 the distance was considerable and had to be made on foot it was 

 necessary to make an early start. Slowly and reluctantly I got up 

 at five o'clock the next morning. It was freezing hard, and, after 

 being used to the mild atmosphere of Melbourne, I felt the cold 

 very much. I started shortly before seven and walked smartly 

 northward, first up the valley and then along the road that wound 

 in a very serpentine manner, now around rocky spurs and anon 

 into shady gullies, up the side of the steep hill. Thoroughly warm 

 and rather tired, I sat down on a stump near the top and gazed 

 back over the scene. Nearly 1,000 feet beneath lay the township, 

 but so covered with mist that the valley seemed to be filled by a 

 vast river. Above the rim of the mist numbers of white cottages 

 could be seen perched on the steep hillsides, while the scrub 

 which had taken the place of the huge trees, long since cut down, 

 looked almost black in contrast with the white billowy vapour 

 beneath. The sun was just rising, and although I was still in 

 deep shade the tips of the Black Diamond and neighbouring 

 hills were brightened by its rays. Altogether it was a scene well 

 worthy of the brush of a good artist. From the top of the hill 

 the scenery was even more beautiful. Generally in Gippsland the 

 view is rather circumscribed, in consequence of the height of the 

 timber, but here there was nothing to obstruct the vision. 



The hills in the immediate neighbourhood were quite denuded 

 of trees, and the white river of mist which overhung and marked 

 the basin of the River Thomson could be seen winding along for 

 miles under the base of Baw Baw. The mountain itself rose 

 majestically out of the mist, its summit completely covered with 

 snow ; lower down the dazzling white was broken here and there 

 by deep valleys, whilst its base was fringed by a margin of dark, 

 tall trees. The road now passes along the top of the ridge, but 



