e that could only be accounted
for by the supposed melting of the snow near the sources of the stream.

[20] See Professor Buckland's Bridgewater Treatise, vol. i.
Introduction, pp. 1, 2.

[21] See Mitchell's Three Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. p. 13.

[22] See Oxley's Journal, pp. 103, 244.

Changes of this sort in the seasons, affecting so powerfully the
appearance of whole districts, cannot but have a proportionable effect
on particular spots. Regent's Lake, the "noble lake," as its first
discoverer, Oxley, called it, was, when Mitchell visited it, for the
most part, a plain covered with luxuriant grass;[23] some good water, it
is true, lodged on the most eastern extremity, but nowhere to a greater
depth than a foot. There ducks and swans, in vast numbers, had taken
refuge, and pelicans stood high upon their legs above the remains of
Regent's Lake. On its northern margin, and within the former boundary
of the lake, stood dead trees of a full-grown size, which had been
apparently killed by too much water, plainly showing to what long
periods the extremes of drought and moisture have extended, and may
again extend, in this singular country. And some of the changes in
scenery, within a short distance, and frequently arising from the same
causes, the presence or absence of water, are very remarkable. In Major
Mitchell's journal, at the date of April 10th, may be found the
following observations: "We had passed through valleys, on first
descending from the mountains, where the yellow oat-grass resembled a
ripe crop of grain. But this resemblance to the emblem of plenty, made
the desolation of these hopeless solitudes only the more apparent,
abandoned, as they then were, alike by man, beast, and bird. No living
thing remained in these valleys, for water, that element so essential to
life, was a want too obvious in the dismal silence, (for not an insect
hummed,) and the yellow hues of withering vegetation." On the next page
of the journal, under the events of the following day, what a contrast
appears:--"The evening was beautiful; the new grass springing in places
where it had been burnt, presented a shining verdure in the rays of the
descending sun; the songs of the birds accorded here with other joyous
sounds, the very air seemed alive with the music of animated nature, so
different was the scene in this well-watered valley, from that of the
parched and silent region from which we had just descended. The