sensations, as I rode over the runs, exploring the different nooks and crannies all so lonely and still, with not a sound to be heard, save now and then the wild shriek of the native Companion (a large bird), or the howl of the native dog, or the still more thrilling yell of the black native, announcing to others the arrival of white men. We were now about fifty miles from any other white habitation, about six hundred from Sydney, and two hundred from Melbourne. The country down here is almost a dead level,—not a single hill to be seen, unless you choose to honour with the name a few miserable mounds of sand which rise to an elevation of some twenty or thirty feet. The plains are very extensive; there is one which extends from our door right across to the Murrum-bridge, a distance of sixty-five miles, with scarcely a tree on it. The Murray—of which the Edward is a branch—takes its rise in the Australian Alps, and is supplied by springs and snow from these. Some of the highest mountains of this range retain perpetual snow on their summits, but on the lesser ones it melts about the beginning of spring, causing great floods in the Murray and Edward, and our runs, being particularly low, are flooded from one to three miles on either side of the river. It is necessary to state this, to enable you to understand the “secrets I am about to unfold.” We had built one hut on the south side (ycleped Barratta), but before we could get one up on the south side (Wirrai), the floods came, and I was obliged to substitute a bark one instead. I divided the cattle into two herds, and put a steady stock-keeper, along with a hutkeeper, in charge of one herd on the Wirrai station, while I, with a hutkeeper and another man (we were only five altogether) looked after the other on this side. We were badly supplied with arms and ammunition, and by no means prepared to fight a strong battle should the Blacks be inclined for mischief. The natives did not show up at the huts for two or three weeks after our arrival, but kept reconnoitring at a distance, and we could sometimes see them gliding stealthily among the trees not far off us. By degrees, two or three of them came up and made friends, and then more and more, until we had seen from forty to fifty of them, but it was remarkable that only old men, boys, and women showed themselves, and none of the warriors. Although I had heard that kindness was of no avail, I never could be brought to believe it, and determined, therefore, to do all in my power to propitiate them by trifling gifts, kind treatment, and avoiding everything that could hurt their feelings. It was of no use; no kindness—nothing, in fact—will teach them the law of _meum_ and _tuum_ but the white man’s gun and his superior courage. We had been down about three months, the waters were at their highest, and our huts on both sides of the river were surrounded by water, through which we had to wade every morning to look after the cattle.