On reaching the foot of the Kroome, at the point of ascent, the men were ordered to rest till night, and all lay down under the grateful shade of the bushes. Our guide, it appeared, knew nothing of the pass by which he proposed taking us up the mountain; some said it was totally impracticable at any time for horses, and at night almost so for infantry; it was therefore determined to take another path more to the westward. In the evening, a cold rain succeeded the hot day, and we lay shivering on the ground a confused mass of steaming blankets. A little before midnight we were roused for the march. Comfortless as our rest had been, it was with the greatest reluctance we crept out of our plaids and blankets into the bitterly cold foggy air and drizzling rain, to stumble drowsily along our night-march. The Kroome rose black and frowning before us, its summit hidden in heavy clouds, which added to its apparent height. The ascent soon became so steep that the mounted men had to alight, and we were in momentary fear that the pack-horses would come to grief. No one who has not felt his entire subsistence for many days to be dependant on a slight accident--the turning of a pack-saddle, the falling of the horse, or the bâtman's awkwardness at some critical moment, can imagine the painful interest with which the ascent or descent of a difficult pass is regarded. The first ridge gained, we moved along a grassy level for some distance, the greater part of us more than half asleep, and staggering along like drunken men; every now and then, as some sudden inequality endangered our balance, awaking with a start, again relapsing into a state of somnambulism, which was as painful as it was irresistible; the grassy path assumed the appearance of a carpet, of which I could distinctly trace the pattern; rocks and bushes became beds, chairs, and chests of drawers, which stood round distinct as reality; until with a stumble and a start, consciousness returned, the illusions vanished, and I still found myself plodding along with the same wearying tramp, tramp. This strange sensation was experienced by most of us, at different times, during our long and harassing forced marches by night; and for my own part, so unpleasant did I find it, that in trying to shake it off, I pinched my arms black and blue. As day began to dawn, and we reached the higher ranges, the scene around and below was grandly desolate; the steep slopes we had ascended looked bare and black in the indistinct light; and the dark summits on every side appeared, and were lost again in the floating clouds. The column, clambering up the steep laborious path, looked like flies swarming on the heights. The horses panted for breath; and the men were quite "pumped," having been marching two whole nights.