430 CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY, [chap. xix. 



monotonous ; each side of the road is bordered by scrubby 

 trees of the never-failing Eucalyptus family ; and with the 

 exception of two or three small inns, there are no houses 

 or cultivated land; the road, moreover, is solitary; the 

 most frequent object being a bullock-waggon, piled up 

 with bales of wool. 



In the middle of the day we baited our horses at a little 

 inn, called the Weatherboard. The country here is elevated 

 2800 feet above the sea. About a mile and a half from this 

 place there is a view exceedingly well worth visiting. 

 Following down a little valley and its tiny rill of water, 

 an immense gulf unexpectedly opens through the trees 

 which border the pathway, at a depth of perhaps 1500 

 feet. Walking on a few yards, one stands on the brink of 

 a vast precipice, and below one sees a grand bay or gulf, 

 for I know not what other name to give it, thickly covered 

 with forest. The point of view is situated as if at the 

 head of a bay, the line of cliff diverging on each side, and 

 showing headland behind headland, as on a bold sea-coast. 

 These cliffs are composed of horizontal strata of whitish 

 sandstone ; and are so absolutely vertical that in many 

 places a person standing on the edge and throwing down 

 a stone, can see it strike the trees in the abyss below. So 

 unbroken is the line of cliff, that in order to reach the foot 

 of the waterfall, formed by this little stream, it is said to be 

 necessary to go sixteen miles round. About five miles 

 distant in front, another line of cliff extends, which thus 

 appears completely to encircle the valley ; and hence the 

 name of bay is justified, as applied to this grand amphi- 

 theatrical depression. If we imagine a winding harbour, 

 with its deep w^ater surrounded by bold cliff-like shores, to 

 be laid dry, and a forest to spring up on its sandy bottom, 

 we should then have the appearance and structure here 

 exhibited. This kind of view was to me quite novel, and 

 extremely magnificent. 



In the evening we reached the Blackheath. The sand- 

 stone plateau has here attained the height of 3400 feet ; and 

 is covered, as before, with the same scrubby woods. From 

 the road there were occasional glimpses into a profound 

 valley, of the same character as the one described ; but 

 from the steepness and depth of its sides, the bottom was 

 scarcely ever to be seen. The Blackheath is a very com- 

 fortable inn, kept by an old soldier ; and it reminded me 

 of the small inns in North Wales. 



