Q THE GEELONG NATURALIST. 
After about 16 miles drive, the pretty little village of Jan Juc 
is reached. In the foreground, spanning the creek, is a neat little 
bridge, substantial, though quite unpretentious as regards engineer- 
ing skill. On the banks of the streamlet are sundry kinds of 
undergrowth, and the majestic eucalypts standime out in relief 
against the dark soil on the hills beyond. The rising ground is 
studded with various kinds of forest trees, with here and there a 
hamlet, plus the usual features of a township—the church, store 
and pub. 
But whilst thus musing upon the picturesque surroundings, our 
team has ascended the hill, and this fairy spot is fast left behind. 
On reaching the higher levels an occasional glimpse of the sea is 
gained through the gaps in the forest. After proceeding a few 
miles, and as we are admiring the fine heath growing along the 
track, a cry is raised from the men on the “look-out ”—“ There ! 
there!!” Whatisit? Look! A fox!! And surely enough, 
there was old Reynard trotting along the track about fifty yards 
ahead apparently not half so much concerned as were the members 
of our party. He had evidently been visiting some of the Jan Juc 
poultry-keepers’ establishments and taken a sumptuous meal, for he 
did not seem to show alarm at the presence of such a company of 
Naturalists, nor care to make any extra effort to evade detection, 
and with equal coolness trotted into the dense undergrowth, Jeaving 
all hands to gaze intently as the coach dashed past the spot 
where he stopped. 
After hearing the many conjectures as to the business of our 
late friend, and a few fox yarns, our attention is directed to the 
fact that we are nearing Anglesea, and very soon we are at our des- 
tination. With as little ceremony as the party embarked, so did 
they leave the conveyance simultancously, to scatter in all direc- 
tions—some down to the coast, others with sharpened appetites to 
the nearest place of refreshment, some up the river, and so on. 
The geologists made a survey sf the coast as far south as Point 
Roadknight. 
The sketchers getting some nice little coast scenes near the 
mouth of the stream, afterwards secured a canoe, and proceeded to 
explore the mighty river in search of scenery, and with as many 
strokes of the paddles as would not weary one to count, our boat 
was jammed hard and fast between the two banks of the stream. 
This was the cause of much fun, and it was at length found that 
our pilot had taken a wrong turn, and having noted the spot by the 
aid of the camera, we were backed out of this plight amid much 
merriment, and a course was then shaped for the source of the 
main stream, which was of similar proportions, only much pret- 
tie. Here the pencil, brush, and camera were kept going 
