1836. | GREAT CLIFF-BOUNDED VALLEY. 437 
grew bold and lofty. But when once on the sandstone platform, 
the scenery becomes exceedingly monotonous; each side of the 
road is bordered by scrubby trees of the never-failing Euca- 
lyptus 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 path- 
way, at the 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 sand- 
stone ; 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 water 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 sandstone 
plateau has here attained the height of 400 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 cha- 
yacter as the one described; but from the steepness and depth 
of its sides, the bottom was scarcely ever to be seen. The 
