st, flash
for a brief moment in the light of life, and in another we are gone.
We planted seeds here; I called it Titania's Spring, the watercourse
in which it exists I called Moffatt's* Creek.

The night was totally different from the former, the mercury not
falling below 66 degrees. The horses upon being brought up to the camp
this morning on foot, displayed such abominable liveliness and
flashness, that there was no catching them. One colt, Blackie, who was
the leader of the riot, I just managed at length to catch, and then we
had to drive the others several times round the camp at a gallop,
before their exuberance had in a measure subsided. It seemed, indeed,
as if the fairies had been bewitching them during the night. It was
late when we left the lovely spot. A pretty valley running north-west,
with a creek in it, was our next road; our track wound about through
the most splendidly grassed valleys, mostly having a trend westerly.
At twelve miles we saw the gum timber of a watercourse, apparently
debouching through a glen. Of course there was water, and a channel
filled with reeds, down which the current ran in never-failing
streams. This spot was another of those charming gems which exist in
such numbers in this chain. This was another of those "secret nooks in
a pleasant land, by the frolic fairies planned." I called the place
Glen Watson*. From a hill near I discovered that this chain had now
become broken, and though it continues to run on still farther west,
it seemed as though it would shortly end. The Mount Olga of my former
expedition was now in view, and bore north 17 degrees west, a
considerable distance away. I was most anxious to visit it. On my
former journey I had made many endeavours to reach it, but was
prevented; now, however, I hoped no obstacle would occur, and I shall
travel towards it to-morrow. There was more than a mile of running
water here, the horses were up to their eyes in the most luxuriant
vegetation, and our encampment was again in a most romantic spot. Ah!
why should regions so lovely be traversed so soon? This chain of
mountains is called the Musgrave Range. A heavy dew fell last night,
produced, I imagine, by the moisture in the glen, and not by
extraneous atmospheric causes, as we have had none for some nights
previously.

CHAPTER 2.3. FROM 10TH SEPTEMBER TO 30TH SEPTEMBER, 1873.

Leave for Mount Olga.
Change of scene.
Desert oak-trees.
The Mann range.
Fraser's Wells.
Mou