THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. lil 



rafters, and bed-clothes, a cow ! The unfortunate animal had 

 missed her footing, was precipitated down the hill, and thence 

 through the roof of the house on to the servant's bed. The cow, 

 although stunned, was not killed, as one might have supposed, and 

 the trouble was how to get her out, for the door was much too 

 small. Finally, they had to take down a part of the side wall in 

 order to release her. 



On the crown of the hill the path follows the main divide 

 between the two branches of Stringer's Creek until it arrives at 

 a small shanty about four miles from Walhalla. 



The glorious morning in the meantime had vanished, and a 

 fine, chilly, penetrating mist had begun to fall, and as there is no 

 other house for ten miles, my companion and myself gladly 

 availed ourselves of a refresher to keep out the cold. 



Beyond this we have passed the utmost bounds of the Wal- 

 halla district, and on the rich soil of the plateau the primeval 

 forest lies undisturbed. In every direction we are surrounded 

 by innumerable species of plants, forming a thick jungle. Out 

 of this vegetable chaos rise here and there huge trunks of 

 the White Gum {Eucalyptus goniocalyx), the branches almost touch- 

 ing hundreds of feet overhead. A few miles more sees us on a 

 sideling cutting, which leads down to the Aberfeldy River. The 

 country becomes poorer as we descend, and in places it is covered 

 with stones, consequently the vegetation varies considerably. 

 The trees become pigmies compared to the giants which grow on 

 the rich saddles ; bracken, ferns, heath, and wire-grass take the 

 place of the rich undergrowth. This apparent loss is a great gain 

 to the tourist, for, instead of being hemmed in with a dense mass 

 of vegetation, he can now look around in freedom. Above him 

 he sees the wooded hills rise tier over tier in beautiful rounded 

 curves, while the steep descent below is soon lost, shrouded by 

 the tops of the gums and fern trees growing out of the hillside. 

 Since our journey a fatal accident happened on this very sideling, 

 which will serve to show the nature of the descent. A poor tired 

 traveller sat down with his back supported by a bushy sapling 

 which grew on the outside edge of the track. He fell asleep, but 

 his weight proved too much for the frail support. The roots of the 

 bush gave way, and he was precipitated into the depths below. 

 The next passing traveller saw his bundle lying by the broken 

 bush, guessed what had happened, and carefully climbed down to 

 the spot where he lay, but life was extinct. At the foot of the 

 sideling a good wooden bridge spans the Aberfeldy. It is a 

 shallow, rocky stream, abounding with small blackfish. The lover 

 of the "gentle sport" will never get anything over half a pound, 

 and seldom much over a quarter, in this river, but five to twelve 

 dozen is the average night's reward. The opposite side of the 

 river has a southern aspect, and as the hills are quite as steep, it 



