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THE AUSTRALIAN EMIGRANT.
125

a look of mock gravity.—"Don't put down the ugliest fellows for the greatest rascals, nor jump at conclusions on hearing only the fag end of a yarn."

After our explorers had spent several days and had penetrated some distance into the ranges at the back of Westernport, they could well have imagined themselves in another land. The country was altogether of a different character to any which they had yet passed through. They travelled in the midst of gloom, for the foliage of the lofty trees meeting far overhead, prevented more than an occasional stream of sun-light falling upon the moist earth. The air was laden with a scent of musk which became most oppressive, though the silvery leaves of the straggling shrubs from whence the odour proceeded tended slightly to enliven the prospect. Though the sun had risen some hours, yet the atmosphere was humid and unwholesome. The general silence which prevailed became painfully perceptible by the distinctness with which each drop of water could be heard as it fell on the underlaying leaves, seemingly accompanied by tiny echoes. During the day few sounds of birds or beasts, nor even of insects, helped to dispel the universal gloom. The valleys were, if possible, more thickly timbered than the tops of the hills. They abounded with tree ferns, which there appeared to attain their greatest luxuriance. Such was the general character of the region through which they were passing.

"This don't suit me," said Dodge, almost out of temper; "I don't want to learn the philosophy of a man's eating his boots: I'm not so fond of leather as that; and I don't wish to enjoy such an appetite as would induce me to eat a black fellow stuffed with broken bottles, and I like to know when it's day and when it's night—this ain't neither, and I don't like your high districts: I like a low neighbourhood. A pretty place this in