Vol. XXVIII. 



igii 



] Barnard, In the Western Lake District. 159 



Warrion Hills, of which more anon. At Colac, 95 miles Irom 

 town, we were still an hour late. The narrow-gauge line to 

 Beech Forest commences here, and, as a train was waiting our 

 arrival, I took a ticket for Coram, live miles out, 400 feet above 

 Colac, on the summit of the divide between the Gellibrand 

 River, flowing into the ocean, and the Barongarook Creek, 

 flowing into Lake Colac. The line winds up the hills, some- 

 what after the manner of the Gembrook line, crossing on the way 

 the pipe-track of the new water supply for Colac. At Coram 

 I left the train, and found myself in country very similar to that 

 about Evelyn. Spikes of epacris, red and white, were showing 

 here and there. Rambling along the road towards Colac, I 

 soon came to a turn from which I had a fine view not only of 

 Lake Colac, but the huge expanse of Corangamite and many 

 other smaller lakes. Numerous volcanic hills dominated the 

 landscape, the grandest of them being Mount Elephant, rising 

 abruptly from the plain some thirty miles away on the other 

 side of Corangamite. The road gradually descended till I 

 reached the slightly undulating area in which the town is 

 situated. Quickly finding a place in which to stay the night, 

 I made my way towards the lake. By this time some sharp 

 squalls had come up, and considerable waves were rolling on 

 the shore, and, rain coming on, I had to make for shelter, so that 

 I was unable to note the vegetation near the water ; however, 

 the view of the Warrions in the setting sun was some com- 

 pensation. 



Next morning I was up betimes, and went for a walk along 

 the road through East Colac to Cameron's Hill, from which I 

 had a fine view of the Warrions, gradually opening up under 

 the light of the rising sun. I was advised to go out to the Red 

 Rock at Alvie, really the southernmost hill of the Warrions, 

 for the sake of the great view to be obtained there, so started 

 off after breakfast for the eleven-mile walk, intending to return 

 by the afternoon coach ; but I had not gone far before a resident 

 driving in the same direction offered me a lift, which, as time 

 was precious, I did not decline. Our road lay through some of 

 the famous squatting stations of bygone days — the Robertsons' 

 and others, whose Colac shorthorns were champions at many 

 Victorian shows. Now all is changed. Dairying occupies the 

 land, and marvellous tales are told of the monthly cheques 

 paid for milk by the Cororooke Butter Factory. And no 

 wonder. The soil is magnificent — volcanic, red and black — with 

 water at no great depth, which, with a good rainfall, keeps 

 the paddocks green almost all the year round. 



The road hereabouts was rather peculiar — a regular switch- 

 back — up and down, with apparently no means of drainage ; 



