peared to be entirely composed of upright basaltic 

 columns ; some of them standing alone, like tall 

 obelisks ; but the greater number forming groups 

 of mimic towers and chimneys. The coast rises 

 considerably towards the south, where the moun- 

 tain range terminates abruptly in the Cape Pillar 

 — a grand basaltic precipice, or rather an assem- 

 blage of precipices, which, seen from the sea, 

 every moment assume some new and more pictu- 

 resque aspect. Separated from the mainland only 

 by a strait of half a mile in width, is Tasman's 

 Island, a scarcely less striking feature in this most 

 grand scenery than the Cape Pillar. Like it, the 

 island is composed of basaltic columns, though on 

 a less stupendous scale, but exceedingly fantastic 

 in form, particularly on the southern side, where 

 the taper spires and pinnacles seem a part of some 

 ancient Gothic edifice, some ' Lindisfarne ' or 

 1 Tintern ' of bygone glory ; whilst, as we gained 

 a broader view of the cape, it assumed the ap- 

 pearance of a fortification — a wall and seaward 

 tower at the north-east end being singularly well 

 defined. 



When parallel with the strait, we gained 

 through it a fine view of another high basaltic 

 promontory, Cape Kaoul, the entrance to Port 

 Arthur being between the two ; but this was soon 

 lost, and the island seemed to fold in, as it were, 

 with the westerly cliffs of the cape, until in a south 

 view they formed one towering stupendous mass 

 of dark rocks, most richly tinged with the change- 

 ful rose-coloi", and purple, and gold of the sunset's 

 glorious hues, which shone forth in still greater 

 lustre from contrast with the deep chasms and 

 ravines which were in almost black shadow, and 

 with the white crested billows of the blue sea, that 

 dashed their glittering spray high over the broken 

 crags. It was a scene never to be forgotten ! 



Nor are our little favorites, the birds, over- 

 looked. They are described, too, in an artless, 

 captivating style, that wins our fondest affec- 

 tion for the writer. We hardly know which 

 to admire most — the birds of Tasmania, or 

 their Poet Laureate. Hear how she sings : — 



In the trees and bushes near the creek, I 

 frequently made new acquaintances of the bird 

 kind ; but only know a few of them by name. 

 Among these, was that tiny flitting fairy called 

 the Diamond bird. It truly is a dainty little 

 jewel ; all gold and shaded amber, with silver 

 spots. Not less beautiful, and far more common, 

 was my old darling the robin ; as exquisite a beau 

 as ever, with his back of blackest black, and his 

 breast a living flame of scarlet. A warm, brave 

 little heart there beats within it too, or his 

 sparkling eye tells no true story ! With him 

 came another of Nature's marvels of beauty and 

 brightness, dressed also partly in black, black 

 bird-velvet, off the same piece as robin's coat, but 

 with a cap and mantle of blue — such blue ! The 

 deepest summer sky is mere dull grey to it! This 

 wondrous little bird is called the ' superb warbler ' 

 (Mulurus superbus), and superb in truth he is. 

 So bright, so swift, so merry, so musical as these 

 little beings are, sure nothing else ever was ! The 

 bluecap has a domestic contrast, too, in his 

 quiet-colored little wife, who, like her Old- World 

 namesake, Jenny Wren, — 



" ' Will still put on her brown gown, 

 And never go too fine.' " 

 But though not dressed in as gay hues., she is as 

 merry and sprightly as her mate ; a perfect little 

 ' dot ' of a bird, quite round, like a ball set on 

 two fine black pins, with a sweet little head at 

 one side, and at the other, or more truly on the 

 top, the drollest little long, straight, upright tail 

 that ever was seen. The robin, and Mr. Bluecap, 

 and Jenny, are all much alike in shape, and the 

 way in which their indescribably funny little tails 

 are cocked up over their backs, sometimes almost 

 touching their heads, as they hop and pop about 

 up and down, and in and out, cannot be imagined 

 — it must be seen. 



Had Mrs. Meredith known our choice 

 favorites, she could not have selected them 

 more apropos. With the exception of the 

 Diamond bird, and the superb warbler, — 

 with whose marvellous endowments and rare 

 beauty we were till now unacquainted, the 

 whole of the birds she has named are truly 

 dear to us. She loves the robin too. We 

 love her, — for his sake. 



The inhabitants of that happy land rejoice, 

 it seems, as much as we do, in going a gip- 

 sying. Let us see wdiat are the delicacies 

 prepared for " the spread" under the trees, 

 — or rather, what is " the" grand delicacy. 

 Mrs. Meredith says : — 



Of course I was initiated into the art of bush 

 cookery. There is a great mystery attached to 

 it ; and for the benefit of the many who go a- 

 gipsying, I will expound it. — The orthodox 

 mystery is, of course, kangaroo ; a piece of which 

 is divided nicely into cutlets two or three inches 

 broad, and a third of an inch thick. The next 

 requisite is a straight clean stick, about four feet 

 long, sharpened at both ends. On the narrow 

 part of this, for the space of a foot or more, the 

 cutlets are spitted at intervals, and on the end is 

 placed a piece of delicately rosy fat bacon. The 

 strong end of the stick-spit is now stuck fast and 

 erect in the ground, close to the fire, to lee- 

 ward, care being taken that it does not burn. 

 Then the bacon on the summit of the spit speedily 

 softening in the genial blaze, drops a lubricating 

 shower of rich and savory tears on the leaner kan - 

 garoo cutlets below ; which forthwith frizzle and 

 steam and splutter with as much ado as if they 

 were illustrious Christmas beef grilling in some 

 London chop-house under the gratified nose of 

 the expectant consumer. 'And gentlemen,' as 

 dear old Hardcastle would have said, if he had 

 dined with us in the bush, ' to men that are 

 hungry, stuck-up kangaroo and bacon are very 

 good eating.' Kangaroo is, in fact, very like hare. 



W T e must, on no account, omit Mrs. Mere- 

 dith's description of her own dwelling ; and 

 the duties that devolved upon her as house- 

 keeper. She tells us, that the first thing 

 necessary to be done before establishing a 

 " home," is to clear the ground. After this, 

 she says : — 



Oxen and implements were purchased, and men 

 hired to fell the trees, grub up the roots, and cut 

 the ponderous trunks and branches into lengths 



