his laurels to New South Wales; on, on the
strong arms took the craft till a wall of mountain loomed straight
across our way, and the river had every appearance of coming to a
sudden end, but round a sudden surprising elbow we went till a similar
prospect confronted the navigator, and the river came round another of
its many angles. On, on we steered till the warm rich scent from the
flowering vineyards was left behind and the sound of the trains could
not be heard. Far up the ravines beyond the pasture lands and men's
habitations, we found the desired privacy, and the solitude was broken
only by the dip of the oars, the flash of an occasional water-fowl,
the cry of some night-bird, or the "plopping" of the fishes that
Andrew could never catch as they fell back after rising to snatch some
unwary insect. The gentle breezes sighing down the gullies, dim and
lone in the eerie moonlight, were laden with the scent of wattle and
other native flowers, and otherwise fresh and sweet with the
inexpressible purity of summer night on the great unbroken bush-land.
In such dryad-like resorts we were tempted to dawdle so long that the
big hours of the evening frequently found us still on the breast of
the river. I was wont to recline on an impromptu couch of rugs in the
bottom of the well-built craft identified with our excursions, where I
could feign to be asleep. At first Dawn suspected me of only
pretending, but I was so emphatic in declaring that the fresh air and
motion of the boat induced the sleep I could not woo in bed, that they
grew to believe me, and carefully covering me from mosquitoes, it
became invariable that at a certain distance on our homeward way the
rower relinquished rowing, the steerer stopped steering, and the boat
drifted down-stream with the gentle flow, while two-thirds of its
occupants tasted of the elixir--

"That burns beneath the beauty of the rose,
And in the hearts of youth and maiden glows,
And fills and thrills the world with life and light,
And is the soul of all that breathes and grows."

And what did the old moon see in that peaceful valley ere she sank
behind the great primeval gum-tree forests on the mountain crests,
across which zigzagged the noisy trains? There were heavy crops above
ground, vineyards abloom, orchards forming fruit, hundreds of
comfortable homes, and no doubt many pairs of lovers abroad, for
lovers love their friend the gentle moon; but none were more fitted