THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 



before 9 o'clock we land at the pier at the Lakes' Entrance, or 

 Cunninghame ; and, after a drive of a mile through the wood in 

 the darkness, and in apparent imminent danger of an upset every 

 minute, reach the hotel, which lies exactly opposite the Entrance 

 itself. 



Saturday, 29TH December. — We spend the morning in a 

 fruitless attempt to find someone who can drive us on to Orbost, 

 and have to be content with a promise that we can have a coach 

 next morning. Around the hotel the woods are full of fine 

 specimens of Banksia serrata in flower and fruit, and on the 

 sand we amuse the few natives who are watching us at a distance 

 by what appear to be our somewhat irrational movements. We 

 are, in reality, busily engaged in pursuing and capturing numbers 

 of the beetle — Cicindela ypsilon. Seen from a distance, the sight 

 of a grave elderly gentleman suddenly starting off at full speed after 

 no apparent object, and as suddenly pouncing down upon 

 nothing in particular but sand, is a rather curious one. Close by 

 the seashore, sheltered on the one hand by a steep hillside, and 

 on the other by a thick wood, we come across a small group of 

 trees quite distinct from the coast vegetation by which it is 

 surrounded. It is almost within a stone's throw of the sea, and 

 though the woods all round are filled simply with gum trees and 

 Banksias, we find growing in this sheltered spot this little group 

 of trees, which, to use a geological term, looks like an outlier of 

 the luxuriant vegetation of the inland region. We notice the 

 Lilypilli (Eugenia smiihii), Spiilax ausiralis, Hedycarya 

 cumiinghami, Aster argophyllus, Senecio bedfordi, Lyonsia 

 straminea, and ElcEocarptis cyaneus. 



Sunday, 30TH December. — We leave the hotel before seven 

 a.m., the coach being more than comfortably filled with our five 

 selves and the great amount of baggage which we have thought 

 it necessary to take, though it is only fair to add that this 

 includes all our stores and collecting material. The woods are 

 alive with bell-birds as we mount the hill leading up to Road- 

 knight's Hotel. The view from this is very fine : to the south it 

 looks over the sea, right beneath it is the entrance and away to 

 the west is the narrow strait of water leading to the lakes, with 

 the hilly country inland, and between it and the sea a narrow 

 strip of sand — for miles the coast line can be traced as it passes 

 along the dreary " Ninety-mile Beach." We are fortunate in 

 seeing two schooners tugged out over the bar : it must be weary 

 work waiting inside, or beating about outside, until the worthy 

 Captain Quayle, who acts as pilot at the entrance, gives the signal 

 that the water on the bar is deep enough. 



From Roadknight's Hotel the road leads through the wood, 

 which is here largely made up of the "yellow box," running more 

 or less parallel to the sea, of which every now and then we get 



