THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE 



461 



try; but instead of this, a sloping plain presents merely an 

 inconsiderable front to the low land near the coast. From 

 this first slope, the view of the extensive woodland to the 

 east was striking, and the surrounding trees*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 Eucalyptus 

 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. Fol- 

 lowing down a little valley and its tiny rill of water, an 

 immense gulf unexpectedly opens through the trees which 

 border the pathway, 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 sandstone; 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 amphitheatrical 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 sand- 



