ere as the
originator and founder of the Naval Volunteer movement.

_Sunday, July 31st._--I stayed on board all day, so cannot describe
Rockhampton from my own knowledge of it. The others all went to
church; Mr. Ballard, Dr. and Mrs. Macdonald, and Mr. Thompson, the
owner of the opal-mines at Springsure, came to lunch, the latter
bringing some curious specimens from his quarries. We had service at
six o'clock, after which I was glad to go to rest.

_Monday, August 1st._--A busy morning, as usual, before starting. We
left at 10 A.M. in three waggonettes (or four-wheel buggies, as they
are called here) for Mount Morgan, each vehicle being drawn by four
horses. Our party occupied two of the waggonettes, and the sailors and
luggage filled the third. After passing through the clean and tidy
town of Rockhampton, the streets of which, though wide, cannot be
called picturesque, we entered on a long stretch of road. I never saw
anything so gorgeous as the _Thunbergia venusta_ and _Bougainvillea_,
now in full bloom, which hid most of the verandahs with a perfect
curtain of rich orange and glorious purple. The hospital is a fine
building on the top of the hill; the grammar-school and several other
good-sized public buildings give the whole place a well-to-do air. We
crossed a bridge spanning an arm of a lagoon covered with a curious
little red weed, out of which rose a splendid lotus lily, known as the
Rockhampton Lily. The blossoms are blue, red, and white, and rear
their graceful heads above the water in a conspicuous manner, growing
sometimes as large as a breakfast-saucer. It was a beautiful morning,
and had I not felt unwell with bronchitis, from which I have so long
been suffering, I should have enjoyed the drive immensely. About seven
miles out we came to a large poultry farm, but I am afraid the venture
had not proved successful, for the farm looked neglected. Quite a
little crowd had assembled in the verandahs of the inn and adjoining
store, and the people had hoisted a Union Jack in our honour.

About halfway up the hill we were glad to pull up at a creek to water
the horses and sit in the shade. This was just before reaching the
'Crocodile' inn, where several coaches were waiting to change horses.
Soon afterwards we passed several mines, or rather reefs, with queer
names, such as the 'Hit or Miss,' the 'Chandler,' and the 'Hopeless,'
arriving in due time at the Razor-Back Hill. It is indeed well named;
for, steep as