e mission we have detailed in the last chapter.

He journeyed on for days, singly but not lonely; for his heart was
inspired by the lambent fragrance of nature's smile; and he felt not the
solitude of the road, as he travelled over the vast expanse of the
Darling Downs. He had traversed this vast table-land, and was
approaching its eastern margin, where the descent was to be made to the
coast country, when he began to experience an oppressiveness in the
atmosphere, which he knew portended a storm. He, however, continued his
course, though, indeed, he had no option, until, as the sun was
approaching the meridian, he entered the deep gorge called Cunningham's
Gap, through which the road passed to the low country, and looked
anxiously at the lowering aspect of the sky. He felt he might make up
his mind for a drenching in the approaching storm, which he perceived
would soon burst over his head; and only exerted himself to get through
"the Gap" into open land, before it commenced.

Cunningham's Gap, or, as for the sake of brevity it is generally called,
"the Gap," is situated between fifty and sixty miles from the coast; and
is, as its name would imply, a defile in the mountains, affording a
convenient passage through the "main range;" or more properly speaking,
a descent from the table-land of the Darling Downs to the country below.
The descent effected by this pass is between two and three thousand
feet; and the view obtained in the passage of the low lying country is
beautiful in the extreme. The gorge itself is one of those combinations
of the picturesque and sublime with the useful; and viewed as a
specimen of scenery, it is surpassingly grand. Looking at it in its
ascent, where its two stupendous sides raise their gigantic masses in
rocky precipices, upwards of two thousand feet high; which seem to frown
upon the bold traveller who ventures within their cavernous precincts;
one cannot contemplate the vast fissure other than as the work of a
beneficent providence, as a gateway in the otherwise insurmountable
"range."

William Ferguson had entered the "Gap," and was riding down the
declivity at a rapid rate, when the sky became still more overcast, and
the clouds gathered in quick succession; while the low fulminating of
the distant thunder, and the death-like stillness of the defile,
indicated the speedy approach of the storm, and imparted a solemnity to
the scene. The thunder became more distinct. The lightning flash