On the evening of Christmas Day we adjourned to the verandah: the scene was beautiful; the heavy clouds, which had previously obscured the heavens, had passed away: the sun, about to set, cast a red glow over the beautiful scenery of fields of golden grain; numerous herds of cattle and flocks of sheep scattered over different parts of the extensive plains; the elegant, drooping, young manna trees, and the sombre foliage of the _Banksia_, or honeysuckle; the picturesque wooded hills, with declivities covered with verdure to the plains beneath, and the farthest view terminated by distant mountains, formed a splendid prospect. My attention was recalled from the enjoyment of this tranquil scene, by the noisy revelry of the blacks, whose approaches towards civilization were manifested by their getting intoxicated. The camp was now one scene of tumult and confusion: the huts, of a weak and temporary construction, were thrown down; the men, inebriated with “_bull_,” were chasing the women and children with sticks, who scampered away to escape the punishment awarded to their mockery: numerous curses, in English, proceeded from the lips of the inebriated blacks, being terms more expressive than any their limited language could afford. As the men swore, the women screamed and talked incessantly. One of them came to me the following morning, and said, “You ought give black feller milliken, (milk,) bullock, and sheep, for white feller come up here, drive away opossum and kangaroo, and poor black feller get noting to patta (eat,) merry, merry, get hungry,”—a very true tale, thought I. Kangaroo rats, called in the native language “Kánaman,” were numerous about this place; they are lively playful little animals, and when in confinement will drink milk and eat manna with avidity; their fur is as fine as that of the larger species of kangaroo. It is said to be found abundantly about the “Stringy Bark” ranges, forming rude nests of the fibrous bark. At a beautiful spot on the Wollondilly, not far distant from the plains, and at a part of the river forming even at this, the summer season, a fine sheet of water, called “Karoa” by the natives,[124] the “Burriol,” or musk ducks, with their young, the “Gunarung,” or wood-ducks, as well as other kinds of waterfowl, were seen in great numbers; and occasionally, about the marshes, the native companion, or Curaduck of the aborigines. During this short excursion, a young black was stung by a wasp, and although he no doubt suffered severe pain, he yet disdained to utter a cry or a groan; he threw himself upon the ground, and rolled about, but no sound escaped his lips. The bronzed-winged pigeon, the “Obungalong” in the aboriginal language, was abundant at this season. It constructs, like the pigeon tribe generally, a rude nest of sticks upon the forked branches of a tree, and lays two or more white eggs.