Page:Rambles in Australia (IA ramblesinaustral00grewiala).pdf/195

can give. At one point we stopped to take a photograph of the Yarra, where its swift green stream took a sharp bend in a low-lying meadow. Its opposite bank was one brilliant blaze of wattle; through a gate in the hedge the mountains showed blue and distant. While we were adjusting the lens a kookaburra somewhere out of sight burst into his peals of derisive laughter; the shrill chorus of unseen frogs, an ever-present accompaniment to the stillness of the Australian country, was the only other sound. It was so typical, so arresting, so unlike anything to be seen elsewhere, that we wished we could have transferred the whole scene with its intensity of colour and freshness to these pages. While we were busy on the bank a boatload of rough boys swung into sight, shouting, barging, and splashing, disturbing the peaceful charm of the little picture, breaking up and destroying the reflected wattle on the smooth water by the bank. We called to them to put ashore. They immediately did so, and, landing, came up to us and asked some technical question about the photographic process—it was a colour photograph on glass—with perfect civility and friendliness. The little incident was such a marked contrast to the relationship of different classes of the community at home that it impressed us as being equally