wooded sides of Mount Direction, on the
South Mount Wellington almost fills up the landscape. After passing
Bridgewater the river much narrows, and further on the woods descend
to the water's edge in some places, reminding the traveller of the
Dart between Dartmouth and Totnes. Just before reaching New Norfolk
a huge rock, called from its shape the Pulpit Rock, quite overhangs
the river. A branch line from Bridgewater to New Norfolk was being
made along the North side, close to the water's edge, and now the
Pulpit Rock has been removed, for though a picturesque object it
looked dangerous, and everything must, of course, give way to
railways. On landing at the wharf at New Norfolk, a boy came forward
and offered to drive me to the well-known salmon ponds, where, for a
good many years, attempts have been made to rear salmon from ova
brought from England, but it is doubtful whether they have met with
success. Small fish have certainly been raised, but the question is
whether they are salmon, and it is said none have attained a size
sufficiently large to solve the enigma. The distance is only a few
miles, and the drive is pretty, but ten shillings was too much for
the pleasure of a solitary journey, for there was no one else likely
to be a passenger in the winter time. New Norfolk lies pleasantly
situated in a valley on the South side of the Derwent. The soil is
favourable for hops, which have been introduced from England, and
grow well here. I have been told that the freight of hops from
Tasmania to England is less than the carriage from some parts of
Kent to London; but as the carriage, say from Maidstone to London,
is about one and sixpence per pocket, they could be carried at such
a rate from Tasmania only as a back freight, and when the owner
wants anything to fill up. For the night I put up at the "Bush," the
favourite and principal inn, but now I was the only guest. After
dark I started out to see the little township, but as the moon was
only in its first quarter, and there was no artificial light, not
much could be made out then. Launceston and Hobart are the only
towns that have gas, and while the moon is shining, or is due to
shine, even that is not lighted--a piece of economy that may be
excused where gas is about ten shillings per thousand. The next day
I returned by land to Hobart, travelling to Bridgewater by a
top-heavy coach, which at every turn sent my heart into my mouth,
but it was skilfully driven.

T