ervals. About ten o'clock
p.m. I observed a lunar rainbow in the northern horizon; its diameter
was only about fifteen degrees. There were no prismatic colours
visible about it. To-day was clear, fine, but rather windy. We
travelled up the creek, skirting its banks, but cutting off the bends.
We had low ridges on our right. The creek came for some distance from
the south-west, then more southerly, then at ten miles, more directly
from the hills to the west. The country along its banks was excellent,
and the scenery most beautiful--pine-clad, red, and rocky hills being
scattered about in various directions, while further to the west and
south-west the high, bold, and very rugged chain rose into peaks and
points. We only travelled sixteen miles, and encamped close to a
pretty little pine-clad hill, on the north bank of the creek, where
some rocks traversed the bed, and we easily obtained a good supply of
water. The grass and herbage being magnificent, the horses were in a
fine way to enjoy themselves.

This spot is one of the most charming that even imagination could
paint. In the background were the high and pointed peaks of the main
chain, from which sloped a delightful green valley; through this the
creek meandered, here and there winding round the foot of little
pine-clad hills of unvarying red colour, whilst the earth from which
they sprung was covered with a carpet of verdure and vegetation of
almost every imaginable hue. It was happiness to lie at ease upon such
a carpet and gaze upon such a scene, and it was happiness the more
ecstatic to know that I was the first of a civilised race of men who
had ever beheld it. My visions of a former night really seemed to be
prophetic. The trend of the creek, and the valley down which it came,
was about 25 degrees south of west. We soon found it became contracted
by impinging hills. At ten miles from camp we found a pool of water in
the bed. In about a couple of miles farther, to my surprise I found we
had reached its head and its source, which was the drainage of a big
hill. There was no more water and no rock-holes, neither was there any
gorge. Some triodia grew on the hills, but none on the lower ground.
The valley now changed into a charming amphitheatre. We had thus
traced our Birthday Creek, to its own birthplace. It has a short
course, but a merry one, and had ended for us at its proper beginning.
As there appeared to be no water in the amphitheatre, we returned to
the