NEW SOUTH WALES:

ITS RAILWAY SYSTEM,

HOLIDAY RESORTS, &c.

A CONVENIENT VO1,UME OF REFERENCE TO THE PRINCIPAL RAILWAY STATIONS AND PLACES OF INTEREST ALONG THE RAILWAY LINES.

PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF THE RAILWAY COMMISSIONERS OF NEW SOUTH WALES.

&bnq : LL71LLIAM APPLEGATE GULLICIi, CXIVERNMEEr'T PRINTKR 11G Tlze Great Northern Line.

:t sightseer's point of vie\\-, it is vastly over-rated, when all atr once, tilrougli a series of gaps in the sandstone mall, a view of su passing beauty opens out Lefore yon.

The Hamliesbury. The Eru\vl~esburjrat last ! More like a land-locked lake incleecl than a deep ocean inlet ; but whether river, lake, or inlet, so profouilclly tran- quil and so marvellollsly lol~elythat the traveller becomes reconcilecl on the instnnt to his journey, and even ,rrrateful to the 'cuttings and the t~ulnelnfor the surprise they hacl in store for him. The line continues to fall as it an,roaches the river, and when the train draws up alongside the IZ"n\vkesbury platfornl it is but 9 feet above sea-level, and surrounded 011 three sides by water. Without a doubt this is the most deliglitful Iialting place on ally Australian railway line. Sonle writers have called the Hawkesbnry the Australian Rhine, others have compared it to the Upper H~~clson.No visitor has ever seen it and gone disappointed away. In t!le railn-ay train one surveys the landscape literally from the river's l~rin!;. It is a scene of calm waters and towering headlancls, mimic bays ancl tiny beaches, rocks covered ~vithshellfish and seaweecl, gullies overrun n ith ferns ; it is a picture painted in a high key, a picture almost ic\,oid of traces of the presence of inan ; and the solitude of it and the silence are air~ongs;stits most impressive attributes. Eastward a few miles only, but beyond the range of the railway traveller's vision, the rirer mingrles its waters with those of Broken Bay. Westwarcl small craft make their xvay to JViseman's Ferry, to Windsor, and to Richmond ; nnd there the country through ~vhichthe river flows assumes a pastoral killcl of beautr, and the land baconles marvellously fertile. Little woncler that the early settlers found their way to the valley of the Kamkesbnry. Less wonder that to-day it is a favourite resort for tourists from abroad, and pleasure seekers from all parts of the colony, sad especially, of course, for the residents of the met opolis. Yachts- nlen sail along tlic coast to Broken Bay and thence up the river in their j-acllts. Others take the train to Hamkesbury Station and return by steamer, whilst others, again, go overland by coach from Manly to New- port, a charming spot on the southern arm of Broken Bay, thence by tvaler to Hawkesbury and back to town by rail. Those wishing to visit

r the river and return to their homes the same day go both ways by train, and to give them an opportunity of seeing more of tlie bean'cies of tlle scenery than mould otllerrvise be possible, tlre stea:ner G'c~leralGorcio,~ makes escursions on tlie river during stateJ hours.

Leaving Ilam1cesbui.y Station tlin train passes over :L ilar;o\l; (:.~IJSC::.:I~ to tlie famous bridge spanning the river, which at this point is n1:oct three-quarters of a mile in width. The bridge itself is a hn~ltlsclilestruc- ture, the longest bridge in Australia, mid as regards iti fo~ul;iation:i one of the most remarl~al~leSridgcs in the morld. It nlnp interest tl~c traveller to learn that its :~ctualIengtli is 5,000 feet,, t'l~atit is sup!)ortetl by six piers, each resting on a caisson filled with concretr, ancl tllus forming tlie iuost solid foundation possil:Ie, ancl that to meet t!ie undu!:~- tions in the bed of the river these caissons vary in depth iiou~101 feet, to 162 feet, the deepesb representing thc deepest Icno\\~nfou~lriatiori for :L bridge south of the line. EIe may be interested furtlier to iiiiow tl~zt the length of the main gii-clers is 410 feet, that tlie height of tlie Lridzo is 5s feet above the surface of the river, aud that each span was CO:)- structed separately on an enormous rpontooii a qunrt;er ~f a iaile a\-;;?? and floated into position. But after all such cletniis are not of enthmlling i1itere::l duri~lgtlie crossing of the bridge itself. Tile scencry :hnc engages tliv atte~itioll . . of the traveller at thal; moment. 41id tller~,~rlien the t~,ain11:ls gnuneS;l the northern shore, and you find you self skimming alo~lgthe baill.:s of 3lnllet Creel<, x long and picturesque inlet of tl~eHa:v!;esbury, features of interest crowd the landscnpe ; and if you arc an '' old hand '' on the road you will most likely be recalling nlenlories of tl:c trip across the river on hoard the Geneiwl Gnrdo,~before t,he bridge was built, memories of cold feet and steaming coift?c, of breaking day ailcl risi1:g mists, of the bustle and confusion entailed in tnrnsferring n train-load of passengers ancl baggage from the railway to tlie steamer and from the steamer to the 'ailway. The completion of the Hamkesbury Eridge was the last link in the line from Adelaicle to Brisbane. Tl~etrain run5 to the head of Aiullet Creelr, then worius its way into a saccession of heavy cuttings, and through a well ventilated t~~iinela nlile ill length, said to be the longest tunnel in Australia. For all t!~at the 1l8 The Great Xortherlz Lirze. surroulldings, generally circumscribed though they be, are as picturesque as a wilderness of ferns and palms and flowering shrubs and water chipping from sandstone rocks can make them. At Woy Woy the railway strikes another inlet of the ocean. This time it is Brisbane Water, the northern arm of Broken Bay. Viewed from the train like the first glimpse of the Bawkesbury it presents the appearance of an expansive lake, low hills swelling gently from the water's edge, the rnost distant shores some 10 miles of, clearings here and there, and smoke rising from the chimneys of scattered dwellings. Woy Woy is situated on the shallows to the south of Brisbane Water ; . and Gosford, the most important township in the district, lies under the shelter of some hills on its northern shore. Gosford is a singularly picturesque littie village, and both places, affording unrivalled facilities for shooting and fishing, are thronged at holiday seasons by sportsmen from Sydney. Besides, was it not to the nlusic of Narrara Creek, B hillside torrent, dashing L'wild and white" from chasm to cbasm vvithin full view of the line beyoncl Gosforcl that the poet Kendall attuned one of his sweetest lays? Through gorges unquest, in whose nether recesses Is heard the far psalin of unseen wildernesses- Like a domina~itspirit, a stronghanded sharer Of spoil with the tempest, comes down the Narrara. The poem, like the scene, belongs to the journey. Beyond Gosford the traveller finds himself for a time in a land where the soil is rich and the trees are tall and straight, their topmost braliches intertwining above a tangled mass of undergrowth. The surrouncling country is admirably adapted for fruit growing and agriculture, but so far there has beell but little settlement in the district, and it is only here and there that an occasional clearing inclicates the in store for it. A few miles further on are the Tuggerah Lakes, one of the principal sources of the fish s~lpplyfor Syclney. The lakes consist of three distinct bodies of water (more correctly described as ilv~nense lagoons) known by the native names of Tuggerah, Mulmorah, and Budgewah, and the three are connected with each other, and finally with the Pacific Ocean by narrow channels. They abound in fish of almost every kind to be found along the'Australian coast, and at times the

Sydney to Wnllnngarra. 110 surface of the water is covered with the graceful rforni of the black swan, while wild ducks and other game, although not sohnumerous as formerly, are still plentiful in places. After this lake country comes an unwelcome change-mile after mile of flat country, covered with coarse grass and stunted trees, scarcely a habitation to be seen, and little inducement fo anyone to settle there. In point of fact, with the exception of Dora Creek and Cockle > Creek, two fine streams which intersect tlie line at an iilterval of 13 miles, between Wyong aud Newcastle the land is poor ailcl the scenery devoid of interest. From Passifern, however, a train carries picnic parties to Toronto, a favourite holiday resort on tlie shores of Lake 3!!acquarie, and at Teralba a corner of the lake itself comes into viem, if ther truth must be told, uncler somewhat unfavourable circuul- r stances; fo the group of miners' huts scattered about amo~igst1.on.s of blackened tree stumps on the shore would rob tlie most romantic scelie of half its poetry. r Lake Macquarie. The lake is said to have been named after one of our most famous Goveriiors, and is a most picturesque saltwater lake, some 40 miles in length, and in places as wide as 6 miles. To give an idea of its size, it may be stated that it has about 800 miles of foreshores. Very irregular in shape, at no one point can the whole of the lake be seen, but its numerous smiling bays, its charming points and promontories, with their

geiitly sloping banks clad in vivid g eenJ are very beautiful. Cockle Creek flows into the lake at its no thern end, and the creek is navigable for good-sizecl vessels to vithin about 3 miles of the flourishing mining tomns of Wallsend and Plattsburg. On the western side of the lake, near the mouth of Cockle Creek, is a large dairy farm, the white buildings of which, together with the extensive area of undulating cultivated lnild running right down to the water's edge, forms a pleasant picture in tlie landscape; and a number of pretty villas, dotted here and there along each side of the lake, add additional charms to the beautiful scene. On the eastern shore, a few miles from Cockle Creek, is the village of Bel- mont. The village is about 12 miles from Newcastle, by a good road, and it is here that large quantities of fish, caught in the lake, are packed r

r 120 Tlze Greut Northern Line. and forwarcled to the nortileril capital, to Sydney, or sent by rail to the flourishing towils of the north. At Belmont the e are post ancl telegraph offices, a hotel, and a number of private residences. Opposite Belmont, and on the shore nearest the railway, is Toronto, from n~hiclia tramway coilnects with the maiil railway. Toronto has a splendid and well kept hotel, capable of accommodating sixty people, and in addition, private boarding cottages are to be had. The lake steamers can come right up to the branch railway at Toronto. A visitor has the alternative of staying at Toronto, where excelleilt hotel accommodation, choice picnic grounds, bathing-houses, or bathing facili- ties are to be found, or he can proceed by the steame to the village of Belmont, near the entrance, which, lying on a pronlontory, has on one side the Pacific waters and on the other the lake itself. There are several smaller settlements which can be visited if the visitor can find tiule to spend a few days on the lake. Boats are always obtainable, and the pleasure of boating or sailing enjoyecl, and fislling parties can generally depend upoil securing a good catch. Mr. Tenison-\Voods, in his work on the " Fish and Fisheries of New South Wales," says : A few miles to the northward of Manmura commences the still larger expanse of waters known as Lake Macquarie. The lake is nearly 20 miles in length ljy an average of about 3 miles in width, but its contour is so broken by deeply indented hays and recesses as to give a perimeter of about 200 nliles. Unlike Tuggeral~, Lake Rlacqunrie possesses a very tolerable entrance, available for craft drawing up to 6 feet of water, and when tlie works now- in progress in the river channel and at the entrance :%recompleted, Lakc Macquarie will probably be navigable for vessels up to 10 fcet draft. The average depth of Lake Macquarie is about the same as that of Tuggeraii. These lakes are the great nurseries of almost all our winter s~~ppliesof net and line fish. Here ~mquestionablythe sea-mullet, bream, tarmhine, whiting, flathcad, tailor, and garfish find their most congenial spa\vning grounds ; and here also are their natural sanctuaries from sharks and other predacious fishes which devol~rthem in the offing. Here also, it is believed, is the cliief spawning ground of the schnapper, which afterwards haunts the numerons reefs, bnmboras, and rocky patches which lie between Broken Bay and Newcastle.

The approach to the Newcastle Station, if it does not reveal much hidden beauty in the landscape, does at least redeem tlie city from the attributes of its less favoured suburbs. Newcastle, as seen from th~ windows of an incoming railway train, is, at all events, a busy place.

With a broad, straight street flanlced by rows of shops, and alive wit11 traflic on one side the line, andon the other side a succession of wharres lined with steamships and sailing ships, and towering skyward in all directions from the deep land-loclced waters beyond, a clense forest of masts, the city impresses the visitor with a sudden sense of its importance as a factor in the comme cial life of the country. Tllere is, indeed, no corresponding area in the Colony that llas yielded a hundredth part tlle wealth dug from the surrounding mines. hT~.qohnXeckenzie, Examin~r of Coal-fields, gi~es the number of coilieries at work and opening OILS in the district, in 1896, at sixty-throe, the amount of coal raised that year at 2,623,016 tons, and the number of lnenemployed at 6,9111. Tlie principal seam-the Borehole seam-varies fcom 1s feet to 4 feet 2 inches in thickness, is almost horizontal, and free from faults, and is described as a bright, bituminous, caking coal of first-class quality for steani. smelting, household and cooking purposes, and a good gas coal. Great as the output of the districtr is, the shipping facilities of the port are 011 a scale of corresponding magnitude. In 110 part of the world, indeed, is there better provision for the loading of coal-carrying vessels thau at Newcastle. Wool and general merchandise are handled on a wharf 3,607 feet long on the southern shore of the harbour. The coal is shipped chiefly at Bullock Island, on the western side, froin a wharf ,-m /,I GO feet long, formerly known as the Dyke. This wharf is lit by a remarkablyfine system of electricity, enablir~gthe work of loacling to be carried on without inter~nissionthrougho~~t the night, and it is furnished with twelve hydraulic cranes, six of u~hichpossess a lifting capacity of 15 tons. Nothing could be more expeditious thau the work of loading the coal ships. The trucks are run beneath the craues, discoilnected from the wheels, whicli are left standing on the metals, swung into the air, and lowered away into the holds. The bottonls of the tr~~cl-Sare then opened, the coal falls into the holds, and the process iq completed by the reunion of truck and wheels. Over 2,000,000 tons of coal are shipped annually by these cranes ; the vessels loaded conveying their cargoes to all parts of the globe. Tlie harbour is protected by a north and a south breakwater, the latter connecting a fine group of rocks known as the Nobbys with the mainland, and extending about half a mile beyond. r

122 Tlze Great Northern Lirze.

The two main streets of the city-Hunter-street and Scott-street- are perfectly level, and parallel with the southern wharf and the railway line. The streets intersecting them trend up the side of a hill behind the town, and are all exceedingly steep. At the butt end of the southe n breakwater are the forfifications, and one of the prettiest drives in the neighbourhood is along the marine p omenade surrounding them, and thence on to the cliffs overlooking the sea, cliffs from which the visitor obtains a magnificent view of the coastr line for many miles in each direction, while beneath the great waves boom and break on a splendid sandy beach ; and there on Saturday and Sunday afternoons the trams deposit avalanches of suburban residents. The city is lit by electricity, controlled by the municipal council and supplied at a moderate figure to private householders. The western end of Church-street and the higher part of New Common street, overlooking the Horse-shoe Bend, are, perhaps, the mosf highly favoured residential portions of the city, whilst in a coal-mining centre of such vast importance, where necessarily what is merely iesthetic has to give way to consideratiolls of practical utility, it would be difficult to imagine a more picturesque suburb than North Waratah. Steam trams, similar to those in Sydney, connect Newcastle with the outlying districts. Ne~vcastlehas a population of 14,600, and the number of persons in the districL is estimated at 56,613.

The Valley of the Bunter.

Proceeding on the journey northwards there are at first very fern features in the landscape likely to prove of interest to the traveller. For a few miles out of Newcastle, we have the usual scenes incidental to suburban life in a mining district. Then the country becomes dis- tinctly swampy; and it is not until the train is well on the road to Maitland that hills begin to peer out of the distance to the south. TO the north the land is still flat ;but instead of swamp and marsh, on the banks of the Hunter, which in spite of many windings never parts company with the railway-line for very far, we have now mile after mile of productive farm lands.

East Maitland is 18 miles from Newcastle and West Bfaitland, the more important township 12 miles further on. '' The Maitlauds " as they are called, are situated in the centre of one of the finest; agricultural districts in the Colony on fertile flats surrounded by mountnins. The Hunter flows between the two townships, the traffic being conducted from one to the other across a substantial wooden bridge. There are fine buildings in North, East, and West Maitland, and the latter is one of the most thriving townships in the Golo~g~andthe site of the annual agricultural show for the Huuter River Waliey. Unfortunately, the district is periodically visitecl by floods, when the water ilot unfrequenbly rises lamp-post high in the towns, ancl the farms on the river flats sustain serious damage, not alone from the submerging of the growing crops and the washing away of live stock allcl produce, bnt also by reason of the sand deposited over the land. From the agricultural holdings aro~undMaitland, the progress of the journey transfers the traveller t.o the win9-growing districts of Lochinvar ancl Allanclale, lands him once more at Greta, in the neighbo~rhooclof a rich seom of coal with its attendant workings, carries him again at Branxton, Eelford Platform and Whittingham iuto a 1s.nd of farms ancl vineyards, and thence on to Patrick's Plains, so callecl iu consequellce of their discovery on St. Patrick's Day. The plaius extencl for a con- siderable distance on both sides of the Hunter, and the clistrict hcs long been fau~ousfor its claiiy produce, its crops of cereals, ancl its grapes, whilst coal, copper, iron, :tnd limestone aboullcl in the district. Singleton is the principal township on Patrick's Plains. With riclges cropping up to the right, well-watered ststion csm1try to the left, and a tendency to billowy nnclulations in the landscape generally, the train pulls up at &I~~srnellbrook,situated at the j~ulction of Muswellbrook with the Hunter River. Leaving the tom-nsl~ipbehincl, we again encounter the Hunter, winding abont as rivers are wont to wind in level country. At leng-th we find ourselves in what is literally the valley of the Hunter. Albeit the hills are still distant, ancl the intervening space is occupiecl by flat fertile lands, which, almost from time immemorial, have been used as fattening paddocks for cattle brought down from Queensland, New England, or the north-west for The Great h~tlterrzLine. tlie Sydney marlrets. Aberdeen, on the banks of the Hunter, at a point where tlie line once again crosses the river, devotes itself largely to the chilling of the carcasses destined for shipment abroad, and seeing horn admirably located it is for this particular industry, it is quite in accord- ance with what ]night 1)e expected, that tlie meat morlcs there are the largest aiicl best equipped in the Colony. The Valley, still 1,roacl and Hat, lies on either side the line. There is an abulldallce of grass on every hand, and even the low and unproductive-looking hills, as tlie t.rn~-eller will learn, are highly-valuecl feeding grouncls. Chass clothes them from foot to summit, ancl what is more, as any pastoralist will tell you, they are " sound couiitry." The purely pnstoral character of the lalldscape is momei~ta~ilyrelieved by a patch of cultivatiop, and tlien me iind our- selves in the heart of a property that has become historic in the annals of Aust alian live stock breeding. This is the Turoilville Estate. Here one misses the familiar faces of the cattle ancl the sheep, and instaacl me see rastr nlultitudes of liorses patrolling the land. At Turonville more horses are raised thaii on any one other station in Australia. Many of them are purcllased for the Imperial army in Inclia, and others find their may into the traces of fashionable turnouts ill Sydney and Mel- bourne, while excellent carriage llorses are reared on the lightly-timbered lands of this ideal estate. Scone will doubtless impress the traveller as a siilgularly agreeable place. Surrounded by mountains, chiefly spurs of the Liverpool Range, with tlie Kangaroo Range a mile and a half to tlie east, the Moonbi Mountains 5 miles to the west, and the Holdsr~orthy Downs about a mile in the same clirectiun, the township is situated ia the midst of soue remarkably fine agricultural country, and large crops of cereals, potatoes, and tobacco are grown in its immediate neighbour- hood. In the Kingdom Ponds, a t ibutary of the Hunter, on mhich the town is situated, fossil trees with marine deposits, including masses of coral, have been found.

The Valley becomes more clearly clefined. To begin with, it was a valley in little else than name. Then, beyond the alluvial flats, there was some broken ground ; then rugged ranges to the @it and to the left. Now bold mountains, heavily timbered about the erests,,,smim into view, and the flats begin to taper off like a wedge, and manifest a

r dis~ositionto bury thenselves i11 dark ravines. Wlieil one gets within view of ilfurrurundi one realises w11at a noble feature it is in the geography of New South Wales-this Hunter River Valley. You travel tlirougli it on your jouriley corth for more tl~~ii100 miles, ancl every 1ia.lting place aloiig the route re\-eals some new plia.se of interest. It is a slowly-shifting panorama, a gradu:xl developing of tlle picturesclue out of the unlovely, of the romniitic out of tlie distinctly con~monp!ace. It is one of those fascinating tours in -~~l?icllthe eyes of the t aveller are ever riveted upon t,lle scenery ahead of him, slid his curiosity stimulatecl by the prospect of sometl~iilghalf unexpected abont to appear. He feels ii~stiilctivelythat he is pursuing his journey in a railway train, when, according to the eternal fitness of things, gauged by his surround- ings, he ought to be travelling in a river stean~boat. He feels that he is graclually worming his way into a cz~lcle sac among the hills, ancl he mill probably ere this liave begun to specnlate what the end of it all will be. ilIeanvhile, one after another, the mountains, with their verdant slopes and tree-crowned summits, come illto view. You see them miles ahead ; they grow upon you ; you wait until they wheel into line with your carriage window; then, gazing once more into the distance, you find just sucli another group of hills, verdant slopes ancl tree-cro~vneclr r summits, precisely as before, ready to engage your attention fo the next half hour. And all tlie while you are slowly creeping upwards, until at Wingell you find yonrself 1,000 feet above sea level.

TVingen, by the may, is famous for its burning mountain, the nearest approach to an active volcano to be witnessed in Australia. A writer clescribing &fount Wingen says : After an honr or two of steady riding we found ourselves ascending tne slcping side of a higher mountain than any we had get crossed. I11 a depression near the top we dismounted, ancl after fastening the horses by the bridles to some trees, me continuecl the ascent on foot. As yet we saw no fire, though a light haze of smoke floated ronud the crest of the mouiltain, ancl a strong odour of bnrning sulphur saluted our olfactory nerves. On reaching tlie summit we saw smoke issuing from about 2 doze11 different cavities, but no flames could be see11 even OII a close approach. On looking into some of the larger chasms, however, they presented the appearance of a glowing furnace. The ground under our feet felt quite hot in places, and all along the brow of the mountain for some hundreds of yards great transverse rents or chasms were to be seen, some of which seemed made quite recently, while others appeared of long standing. 126 The Great Northei-n Line.

No trace of X-olcanicagency was apparent, the fire simply proceeding from a as: beJ of coal, which had become ignited, ancl as it became consumed creating large cavities, into which the snrface fell. What length of time has elapsed since Mount l17ingen first becarne a burning mountain is not known, but it is believed to hare been in a state of ignitiou prior to the advent of the white man-certainly so before his srttleinent in that part of New South Wales. No doubt some day a scientist mill conle along who will malce a calculation on the basis of, the arllount of consiunlption per day, and so reduce the nlystery to a very simple arithmetical clne3tion, to be worked out by the " rnle of three." Tlie course over which the fire has travelled in times pmt can be distinctly traced aloug the brow- of the mountain for upwards of a quarter of a mile, though the firs in the initial part of its course has long become extinct. The surface of the ground in close proximity to the fire was covered in places with a substance resembling yellow frost, but which upon examination prorecl to be a compound in which snlphur was the basis. One of our party took up a piece of the calcined earth crnsted with it, ancl applied a lighted match to it. It at once caught fire, burning wit11 a bluish flame, and emitting a pungent odo~u.; but instead of being consumed it turner1 into a flnid sbate, the colour being dark amber.

Murrnrundi and the head of the Hunter River Valley-the cz~lcle sac at last. A mile or two beyond the townsilip, utterly regardless of the convenience of the railway engineer, Nature has raised a gigantic barrier in the shal3e of a formidable mountain, a mountain worthy of the chain in which it stands, and which at this point unites the ranges that have hitherto been skirting the horizon on either sicle the linc. Nor is this cl~~itethe gravamen of the offence. When one wants to gain the table- lancls one can put up with the contingent ascent. It is " in the game." Eut here me have a mountain that dumps you down on the Liverpool Plains after a heavy climb, at a sliglitly lower level than you were an hour before in the Valley of the Hunter-a gratuitous, obstructive sort of mountain, that ought at the outset of its career to have been brought within reach of the law against loitering in public places. On the other hand, there is something to be said on behalf of the obstruction. Granted that it has entailed a tunnel 528 yards long and the excavation of more than 15,000 cubic yards of rock, it affords a viey unrivalled on the journey north. Looking back during the ascent, the traveller sees the valley from mhich hhe train has just emerged spread out behind him, high mountains on each side range behind range, the river flowing like a silver streak through rich alluvial pasture lands between the mountain, and the charming little town of Murnlrundi, wit11 its quiet streets ancl its shady willow trees, sending light ringlets of smoke from scores of chimney tops into the pure upland air.

Views such as this are rare incidents in railway journeys, ailcl when seen, as this view most frequently is, with the shadows of evening stealing down the transverse gullies, and the fertile valley itself resplendent with the last rays of the sun as it shines from behind the mountain tops, it is indeed a splenclid panorama. And then when the summit is passed, aid the sun begins to shine in your eyes once more, and the peo~leill the compartmeilt remark that the waters rising on this side the range flow westnrard into the Macintyre, and thence on to tlie Darling and the Murray, you see the Liverpool Plailis sl;retching out before you as far as the eye can reach. The next stage of the jonrilep involves the crossing of tlie plains, or, more correctly, the skirting of them, for although during t,he succeecliiig 50 miles, that is to say, until the train arrives at Tnmworth, you are in L' plain country " the horizon is bounded at no great distance on either Iiand hy ranges, those on the east being liigh ancl picturesque, whilst those on the west-in prehistoric times a succession of islands, the plains themselves bcing tlien the head of an enormous lake-do little more than shut out from the fringe of flat pasture lands traversed by the line t,lle vast tracts of level country still further west. In the descent one obtains a glimpse of Ardglen, a small township charmingly situated on a broad grassy flat between two hills, and formerly a famous camping-ground (kno~vnas Doughboy Hollow) for teams on their may to New England.