Further progress, under the circumstances, was out of the question. It was resolved to send man and horse back to Wulongong to engage additional horses, and continue our walk as far as the huts at Bargo, the next station, 18 miles distant. _En route_, or at Bargo, it was supposed our coachman would overtake us with fresh horses. As we were by no means sure of our road, we took the precaution of carrying our most necessary effects, in the event of our having to pass the night in the bush. It was 6.30 P.M., and the sun was going down, only the extreme summits of the trees catching and reflecting his golden beams. On we went, our excitement stimulated by the prospect of an adventure. Gradually the darkness of night enveloped the wood. Our path became uncertain. Even the full splendour of the moon, as she rose in the east, and darted her silver rays through the gloom of the _Eucalypti_, casting gigantic shadows on the sandy soil, rather tended to confuse us amid this labyrinth than enable us to extricate ourselves. We held on however till 1 A.M., and were just on the eve of camping for the night to await the break of day, when all at once we saw before us the stately fence which surrounds Bargo. With quickened steps we made for the lonely little farm, and hammered at its closed door. A tremendous chorus of barking dogs was the not very propitious welcome of guests arriving at such an unseasonable hour. After repeated knocking the door of the hut was opened; an old man appeared in his night-shirt on the threshold, and gruffly inquired who we were and what we wanted? The reply was not difficult. Our having passed that way before, when we had scraped acquaintance with the old gentleman, likewise stood us in good stead. We were most cordially received, and, despite the lateness of the hour, preparations were at once made to prepare something for us to eat. Tea, coffee, eggs, fresh butter, and damper were carried into the sitting-room, and as far as was practicable sleeping quarters were prepared in the little hut.