excited our admiration at the Lynd, by the beauty of its colours, and by the singularity of its movements. Charley saw the Silurus and the guardfish, and caught several of the broad-scaled fish of the Mackenzie; one of which, a most beautiful specimen, has been preserved and sent to Mr. Gould. When we left our last camp at the Lynd, John Murphy's pony was missing. Charley went to look for it, and did not join us before we had arrived at our camp, after an unusually long and fatiguing stage. He brought us the melancholy news that he had found the poor beast on the sands of the Lynd, with its body blown up, and bleeding from the nostrils. It had either been bitten by a snake; or had eaten some noxious herb, which had fortunately been avoided by the other horses. Accidents of this kind were well calculated to impress us with the conviction of our dependence on Providence, which had hitherto been so kind and merciful. As all our meat was consumed, I was compelled to stop, in order to kill one of our little steers. It proved to be very fat, and allowed us once more to indulge in our favourite dish of fried liver. Although we were most willing to celebrate the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo, and to revive our own ambitious feelings at the memory of the deeds of our illustrious heroes, we had nothing left but the saturated rags of our sugar bags; which, however, we had kept for the purpose, and which we now boiled up with our tea: our last flour was consumed three weeks ago; and the enjoyment of fat cake, therefore, was not to be thought of. Should any of my readers think these ideas and likings ridiculous and foolish, they may find plenty of analogous facts by entering the habitations of the poor, where I have not only witnessed, but enjoyed, similar treats of sugared tea and buttered bread. In crossing one of the creeks we found a species of Acacia [Inga moniliformis, D. C. Prod. Vol. II. p. 440, where it is described as having been found at Timor.], with articulate pods and large brown seeds; it was a small tree with spreading branches, and a dark green shady foliage: it occurred afterwards on all the creeks and water-holes until we reached our destination. It was at the lower part of the Lynd that we first saw the green-tree ant; which seemed to live in small societies in rude nests between the green leaves of shady trees. The passer by, when touching one of these nests, would be instantaneously covered with them, and would soon be aware of their presence by the painful bites they are able, and apparently most ready, to inflict.