It appeared that where land was best and grass most abundant the latter consisted of one or two kinds only, and on the contrary that where the surface was nearly bare the greatest variety of grasses appeared, as if nature allowed more plants to struggle for existence where fewest were actually thriving. NATIVE INHABITANTS ON ITS BANKS. The aboriginal inhabitants of the banks of the Bogan include several distinct tribes. 1. Near the head of the river is the tribe of Bultje, composed of many intelligent natives, who have acquired a tolerable knowledge of our language; the number of this tribe is about 120. One, or in some cases two, of the front teeth of males is extracted on arriving at the age of 14. 2. The next is the Myall tribe, who inhabit the central parts about Cudduldury, at the great bend of the Bogan to the northward. These natives can scarcely speak a word of our language, and they have several curious customs. Some of the young men are gaily dressed with feathers, are all called by one name, Talambe, and great care is taken of them. The chief and many of the tribe say they have no name, and when any others are asked the names of such persons they shake their heads, and return no answer. The tribes in various parts of the colony give the name of Myall to others less civilised than themselves, but these natives seemed to glory in the name, and had it often in their mouths. They were the only natives I ever knew who acknowledged that they were Myalls; and I can say of them, as far as our own intercourse enabled me, that they were the most civil tribe we ever met with. They do not extract the front teeth. 3. The Bungan tribe, with whom the one last mentioned made us acquainted, inhabits the Bogan between Cambelego and Mount Hopeless. They are perhaps less subtle and dissimulating than the Myalls, and if possible more ignorant than they of our language and persons. Yet the Bungans came forth from their native bush to meet us with less hesitation, observing at the same time that downcast formality which is the surest indication of the natives' respect for the stranger, and ignorance of the manners of white men, especially when accompanied, as in this instance, with an openness of countenance and a frankness of manner far beyond the arts of dissimulation.* (*Footnote. I have since been informed by an officer who had been some time in Canada that he noticed, when on shooting excursions with the Indians, that they observed a somewhat similar silence on meeting with strangers.)