ose he meant, "for grog unless I could get drunk." I said, "Well,
now, my impression is that it would require very little grog to do
that." He said, "Why, I'd drink six bottles off and never know it." I
said, "Well, the next bottle we open you shall have as much out of it
as you can take in one drink, even if you drink the whole bottle." He
replied, "Oh, all right, I'll leave a nobbler for you, you know, Mr.
Giles; and I'd like to give Tietkens a taste; but that [adjective]
Gibson, I'll swear he won't git none." So we opened the bottle, and I
said, "Now then, Jimmy, here's your grog, let's see how much you can
drink." "Oh!" said he," I ain't going to drink it all at once." "All
right," I said, "if you don't, we shall--so now is your chance." Jimmy
poured out a good stiff glass and persisted in swallowing it raw. In
five minutes he was fast asleep, and that was all he got out of the
bottle; he never woke till morning, and then--well, the bottle was
empty then.

My readers will form a better idea of this peculiar and distant
mountain range when I tell them that it is more than sixty miles long,
averaging five or six miles through. It is of a bold and rounded form;
there is nothing pointed or jagged in its appearance anywhere, except
where the eagle sat upon the rock at the Circus; its formation is
mostly a white conglomerate, something between granite, marble, and
quartz, though some portions are red. It is surrounded, except to the
east, by deserts, and may be called the monarch of those regions where
the unvisited mountains stand. It possesses countless rocky glens and
gorges, creeks and valleys, nearly all containing reservoirs of the
purest water. When the Australian summer sunset smooths the roughness
of the corrugated range, like a vast and crumpled garment, spread by
the great Creator's hand, east and west before me stretching, these
eternal mountains stand. It is a singular feature in a strange land,
and God knows by what beady drops of toilsome sweat Tietkens and I
rescued it from its former and ancient oblivion. Its position in
latitude is between the 24th and 25th parallels, and its longitude
between 127 degrees 30' and 128 degrees 30'. I named it the Rawlinson
Range, after Sir Henry Rawlinson, President of the Royal Geographical
Society of London. I found a singular moth- and fly-catching, plant in
this range; it exudes a gummy substance, by which insects become
attached to the leaves. The appearance of this r