CROSSING THE KARUAH. In fording the Karuah, just before reaching Stroud, the effect was singular and startling. The thick foliage arching over the river, quite shut out the little light the stars afforded, and as we had to descend into it, down a very steep bank, it was like plunging into a dark bottomless pit; the noise of the stream over the stones alone told us we should find a footing below. Into this gloomy cave our party one by one descended, the foremost calling out when he had reached the bottom, that the way was clear, and hastening across to prevent the horseman who followed from being carried by the impetus into contact with him. Waiting my turn upon the verge of the bank, I contemplated with pleasure the heavy masses of the forest stretching like dark shadows behind me, and on the other side, the long winding line of verdure at my feet, from beneath which rose the splashing, rippling, gushing sound of the stream, whilst overhead, the vault of heaven was thick inlaid with patterns of bright gold. But the plunge of my companion's horse in the water, and his voice calling out that all was right, soon drew me away, and in another moment I was fording in utter darkness the rapid though shallow stream of the Karuah. We passed the night at Stroud, and next morning started for Port Stephens. There having been some delay in getting my horse, I was obliged to push over the first seven miles in little more than a quarter of an hour, the postman having waited for me over his time. PORT STEPHENS. On the 15th, the requisite observations were obtained for rating the chronometers, which we found had altered their rates in a most singular manner; so much so, that in spite of the short interval that had elapsed since our departure from Sydney, we found the resulting meridian distance between that place and Port Stephens, to be very defective. This fact illustrates the unaccountable changes that sometimes occur in the rates of chronometers, and the necessity of repeated measures of difference of longitude to arrive at the truth. On the morning of the 16th we again sailed for the North coast with a fine southerly wind. June 19. At noon, when in 30 fathoms, with coarse sand bottom, we saw Indian Head, bearing North-North-West 10 miles, it is a dark cliffy point; but there is another more remarkable in the shape of a quoin, three or four miles to the northward. At 8 P.M., we were in the same depth, Sandy Cape, so named by Cook for its being a low point streaked with patches of white sand, bearing West-South-West eight miles. As it was now blowing very hard from East-South-East, with constant squalls and thick rainy weather, the ship was brought to the wind under snug sail, for the night. June 20. At daylight we were in 18 fathoms, the outer elbow of Breaksea Spit, bearing South-East by South three miles. LARGE SHARK.