176 THE AUSTRALIAN NATURALIST. 
and Schizophyllum commune. Far below were quiet glades in- 
viting our exploration, but time prohibited that; beside us were 
massive sandstones suggestive: of strength; before us was our 
goal—Lugarno Ferry. <A sharp turn in the road and we got 
our first glimpses of the water, and a little way beyond was our 
objective. 
We now surveyed another phase of Nature’s handiwork. 
The rippling water, the sun shedding its last rays of light, the 
ferryman’s home jutting out into the river, and the dark shadows. 
all impressed themselves on us. On the farther shore a gum 
covered mountain rises sharply, and nestling at its feet are many 
little homes “Away from the maddening crowd.” The ferry, too,. 
was on that shore awaiting its next passenger. 
With regret we turned our footsteps back as the shadows 
had begun to fall. As we climbed the mountain we saw the 
scene from a new aspect. We heard, too, our feathered friends 
singing their last refrains. The minor tones of the Spinebill 
Honey-eaters, Acanthorhynchus tenuirostris, as they hurried 
home; the last chants of the yellow Robin, Eopsaltria Australis; 
and the beautiful mellow tones of the Gray Shrike Thrush, 
Colluricinela harmonica, resounded through the bush. The sweet 
little Diamond bird, Pardalotus punctatus, let us know its pre- 
sence, and the yellow-tufted Honey-eater, Ptilotis melanops al- 
lowed us to pass quite close to it. 
The scene on the top of the mountain is mirrored in my 
mental vision. The tall black butts growing up as straight as a 
die for forty or more feet before they send out their branches; 
their black boles standing out in relief; their foliage forming a 
canopy; their very selves a shelter for the shrubs, flowers and 
wee things which thrived at their feet. Through this timber 
away to the west the winter sun was setting, and zaying its last. 
good night for another day. Splashes of golden yellow against 
the surrounding grey clouds cast a spell over all the scene. Just: 
in the foreground were our naturalists having billy tea and sand- 
wiches. 
The shadows fell quickly, a moist chilliness was felt in the 
air, and we were soon to know its meaning. The clouds became 
tired of holding their moisture so they thought they would drop 
it on us—much to our discomfort! 
Was a ’bus ever so long in coming? We watched the road 
for an oncoming light; we watched in vain. Meanwhile we: 
tried to get some scanty shelter from an overhanging tree until 
quick ears heard the ’bus coming out of the darkness. It was 
. dark, too, and matched its surroundings. Somehow we scramb- 
led in feeling our way, for lights in these parts are an unknown 
quantity. Packed tightly we travelled along the road to Hurst- 
