SOUTH HEAD LIGHT, NEAR THE ENTRANCE TO PORT JACKSON. 



THE CITY OF SYDNEY. 



THE HARBOUR. 



/^~"*OMING towards Port Jackson from the east, at a distance of about sixty miles, 

 when the last reflection of daylight has died out of the sky, and the stars are 

 shining through an even depth of gloom from the zenith to the water's edge, the 

 captain of any Sydney-bound craft will note, nearly where the sun has set, the first indi- 

 cation of a faintly luminous haze. That is the Sydney light, or rather the reflection of 

 the flash thrown up on the sky, for the tower and lantern are still below the horizon. 

 On every re-appearance this pale blue light becomes a little brighter, and presently a 

 movement like a very rapid play of faint aurora rays is noticeable. Then a spark, like 

 the nucleus of a comet, seems kindled just beneath the luminous beam a spark that 

 glows for a moment and then expires, and is again enkindled, and now a little brighter 

 a little brighter with every minute, a little larger with every quarter of an hour, till 

 two hours before the Heads are reached it has grown to be a flash of intense 

 brilliancy, and its long rays sweep the horizon, dividing the darkness of the night with 

 lines of living fire, and scoring the black surface of the ocean with bands of whitest flame. 

 All eyes are scanning the coast-line, which stands out clearly at each successive flash. 

 Right across the course it stretches, with no apparent opening. Yet almost straight for 

 the steep and rugged rock on which the light-house stands the ship is steered, till on a 

 nearer approach the flash is left a little on the port bow. For now another beacon has 

 appeared, red and steady, slightly to the north of the first light ; and between the two 

 is '.'The Gap " - a dip in the outline of the sea-cliff, over which pn a clear night the 

 glow of the Sydney lights may be seen. The Outer South Head, from which the 

 electric flash flames forth, is a high, bold headland to the south of "The Gap." It was 

 nearly under this perpendicular cliff, on a wild night black with tempest, and when the 

 old light was invisible during the severest gusts of the driving rain, that the ill-fated 



