ms take a south-easterly direction. The
course of the latter I was anxious to trace, having seen its mouth in
passing along the coast west from Port Phillip. Very opportunely I met
with Mr. Smith, belonging to the colonial surveying department, who being
employed in the neighbourhood, took me to a commanding station on some
low hills about three miles to the south, called by the natives Barabul.
We crossed the Barwon running to the south-east at the foot of them, near
where it fell some height over a rocky shelf forming a pretty waterfall.
Turning to the left from this roar of water, you find the stream
meandering silently between rich grassy flats. On one of these Mr.
Smith's tents were pitched, overlooked by a craggy height on the opposite
side of the river; and the blue stream of smoke that arose from the fire
of his party, helped to impart life and beauty to the scene. From the
Barabul hills I almost traced the Barwon to its confluence with the sea.
Five miles to the south-east from where we stood it communicated with a
large lagoon; after leaving which, I was informed there was only a depth
of three feet, and a width of one eighth of a mile. It is not, however,
this alone that renders the Barwon useless for water-carriage to the town
of Geelong; for the exposed situation of its mouth almost always prevents
boats from entering.

The singular sloping treeless sides of the Barabul hills, and the
declivities of the valley of the Marabul river, bear a striking
resemblance to many parts of Eastern Patagonia. They appear as if they
had just emerged from the sea, which had as it were scooped out their
hollows and smoothed their sides. A remarkable high round hill, perfectly
bare of trees, and called by the natives Moriac, bore West 1/2 South six
miles from where we stood. On our return we met some of the natives; they
were the first I had seen of the aborigines of this part of the
continent, and were certainly a finer race than the people on the western
coasts. They complained of the white men bringing animals into their
country that scare away the kangaroo, and destroy the roots which at
certain seasons of the year form part of their sustenance. This, Mr.
Smith told me, was a very general complaint.

I spent a very pleasant evening at Captain Fyans' comfortable quarters,
in the course of which arrangements were made for next day's journey to
Station Peak, Mr. Smith kindly offering to lend me a horse and to
accompany me.