young tree-ferns and the blue-green of the
eucalypti. My botanical ideas are getting quite confused and upset in
Australia, and I must study the new forms with the assistance of some
kind director of gardens. It is necessary to understand the
classification of these plants, for the common names are entirely
deceptive and utterly opposed to one's preconceived ideas of the
species to which they belong.

We climbed up to the summit of the hill, and on our way saw some
rail-splitters at work. These men are peculiar to Australia, and I
cannot but think they do harm to the country. On payment of a fee of
1_l._ a year they are allowed to go into the forests and kill the
finest trees by 'ringing' them. Often the trees thus dealt with are
left to die as they stand and disfigure the forest. In this way an
enormous quantity of valuable timber seems to be uselessly destroyed.
The rail-splitters remind me of squirrels, who nibble off nuts before
they are ripe, and then take a dozen away to their winter's nests; or
of a vixen, who will bite the heads off twenty chickens and only carry
one back to her cubs.

On our return to the comfortable inn at Fernshaw we found cheerful
fires ready to welcome us. This inn is very prettily situated. At the
back runs the river Watt, brawling over its stones like the veriest
Scotch salmon-trout stream. It is full of excellent imported trout,
which flourish well in these antipodean waters and attain a weight of
six or seven pounds. Across the river is thrown a primitive bridge,
consisting of the trunk of a big tree cut in halves. Very slippery and
slimy it looked, and I did not feel inclined to attempt the perilous
passage. Near the inn were some extremely nice gardens with the
trunks of old tree-ferns filled with flowers, producing a pretty
effect as rustic flower-pots.

[Illustration: A Forest Bridge]

Precisely at half-past two we started on our homeward journey, and
with the exception of a few minutes' stay at Healesville to water the
horses, and at the blacks' camp to have a little more chat with them,
we did not stop anywhere on the way. Since morning the blacks had
turned their huts right round, for the wind had shifted and they
wanted shelter from its severity.

At 5.15 we reached St. Hubert's, just saving the daylight over the
last seven miles of bad road. We all felt better for our pleasant
expedition, though the violent joltings of the road and the bumpings
of the coach were decidedl