But the time will, without doubt, soon come when camels will no longer be required, and the scenes of the forced and painful marches of some of our explorers be watered by the springs now imprisoned hundreds of feet below the surface. Since these pages were commenced, one of the strongest outflows in the world has been struck near the foot of the range in Queensland, some hundreds of miles back from the central coast, in a place which witnessed the last expedition of Major Mitchell. This discovery, added to the many that have preceded it, leads to much thought as to the probability of future discoveries, and the wonderful springs that are already known to exist. "Water! water! everywhere, and not a drop to drink." Although not absolutely true, in fact, or rather on the surface, this quotation might be uttered with a strong measure of truth by many a poor wretch perishing from thirst on a drought-blasted inland plain, whilst underneath him, at a greater or less distance, run sunless seas. Of the magnitude of our great subterranean reservoir who shall tell? What craft will ever float on its dark surface, under domes of pendant stalactites, rippling for the first time the ice-cold waters, and disturbing the eyeless fish in their shadowy haunts? Only when here and there we tap it, and the mighty pressure sends up a thin column of water hundreds of feet in answer. Or when we notice the strong, constant springs that at intervals break through the surface crust to gladden us; or when the deeper internal fires burst forth, and hurl up its waters in scathing steam and boiling mud, can we guess of the great hidden sea beneath. We have a problem given into our hands to solve; it is our heritage, and we have only just commenced to try and find the answer. In our fair continent there are thousands upon thousands of square miles of fertile country that Nature herself has planned and mapped out into wide fields, with gentle declivities and slopes, fit for the reception of the modest channel that shall convey the living water over the great pasture lands; and now we want the magician to come, and, with the wand of human skill, bring the interior waters to the surface, and make the desert blossom. Of the great supply that lies awaiting us deep down in the earth's caverns we have incontestible proofs, and of the force latent in it to lift it to the surface, to be our willing slave and bondsman, we, too, have some dawning notion. Will years of study and observation give us the power to wield the wand at will? We cannot but believe it. Our vast and fertile downs were never destined to be idle and unproductive for months and months, dependent only on the niggard clouds o'erhead.