black-butt gums, and other eucalypti, and abundantly watered with numerous permanent chains of water-holes, and gravelly water-courses in brushy hollows. Having unloaded the pack-horse, tethered out our horses, and lit a fire, we suddenly heard the loud shrill couis[1] of the natives, who turned out to be some old friends of mine belonging to the Tanban tribe. Having heard that they were now at peace with the tribes we should have to encounter on our journey towards the Bellengen, I persuaded a couple of them to accompany me, by the promise of a red shirt each, and plenty of smoke, (tobacco,) whilst they remained with me; for I was well aware that they would be of great utility in searching out the best crossing places for our horses over the creeks, cutting a passage through the entangled creepers of the brushes, and acting as interpreters to the wild blacks. They had just succeeded in killing a kangaroo, and good-naturedly offered us some of it. Having finished our supper, we laid down to sleep with our saddles for pillows, but were much teased during the night by the clouds of musquitos which issued forth from the dense brush to attack us.
March 7th.—Having boiled our tea, and breakfasted on toasted bacon, and bush biscuit, (thin cakes of flour and water baked on hot embers,) I started on our journey soon after six o'clock. After a ride of half an hour, we crossed the first large brook
- ↑ Native call.
