THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST, 25 



tigated rises to the north of the mountain, runs west to unite with 

 the other branch coming still further from the north, then the 

 united stream flows westward, till beneath the Crinoline Hill it 

 turns south to join the Macallister at an acute angle. Hence our 

 course up the Wellington took pretty much the shape of an L — a 

 northward line to the Crinoline, and then a line nearly due east 

 to Mount Wellington. 



Two miles jogging along the flats brought us to the last ford of 

 the Macallister, and two more to the first on the Wellington. 

 We had fine views of the Crinoline Hill, so called from its shape 

 and well-marked terraces. At first it lay in front of us up the 

 valley, and then on our left hand as we turned eastward at its base. 

 We crossed the Wellington by an old camp of Mr. Howitt's, and 

 stopped some time to look for a flat piece of iron he had planted 

 there, to serve as an oven for our cakes, but it had vanished. 

 While we were looking for it one of the horses got half-way back 

 over the ford, intent on a return to Heyfield, but was speedily 

 arrested. We saw more butterfly life in these wattled flats of the 

 Macallister and lower Wellington than in any other part of the 

 district. The blue lalmenus evagorus was in great profusion, the 

 chrysalids as usual attended by small black ants. The Hill 

 Butterfly, two sorts of Brown, and the Painted Lady were flying 

 freely, and ever and anon a Skipper darted out in front of us. 

 The pendent nests of the Solitary Wasps (Polistes) were noticed 

 several times, attached to the shrubs. The Wellington River has 

 less extensive flats than the Macallister, and our mode of 

 progression up the valley consisted in crossing a spur, longer or 

 shorter, lower or higher, on one side of the river, fording, crossing 

 a spur on the other side, fording, skirting the river, fording, and so 

 on unto nearly forty fords. 



After passing the Crinoline Hill, and making some 15 miles 

 from Herald's Fiat, we camped for lunch at 12.30 on the 

 Wellington River below Breakfast Creek, and near the turn-off 

 of Whitelaw's track. The river here is very beautiful, a wide 

 and winding rock-bedded stream flowing between high hills 

 thickly clothed with gum trees. Standing or seated on the smooth 

 worn rocks we had abundant opportunity for observing how 

 powerful a denuding and transporting agent lay before us. 

 Beaches of large boulders, smoothed and rounded; pot-holes worked 

 out as by the turner's lathe ; huge rocks, isolated, at present 

 defiant but obviously doomed to give way ; and here and there a 

 tree torn up by the roots. It must be a glorious sight to see that 

 river in flood time, though we imagine it would be no easy matter 

 to reach it at such a season. We boiled the (chief) billy on a 

 pebbly shore to avoid all chance of kindling a bush fire, and after 

 lunch had a most refreshing bath in the river, which was rather 

 too shallow and broken here for a good swim. The effect of the 



