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had to look, occasionally for a long distance, to find a crossing-place. We followed down the stream as quickly as possible, anxious to reach a bush where we could get firewood. But it got dark before we could find any, so we had no choice but to sit down on a rock, and so pass the night. We could not sleep at all the whole night. We were, however, cheerful, and considered we had passed the worst part of the road. We had come about fifteen miles that day. It snowed without ceasing the whole night. Several times during the night we had to shake the snow off our blankets, whenever it got too heavy. The night seemed very long, and we could not lie down, as the ground was too wet. It was, however, only the commencement of our sufferings. We had at least good food, for although the biscuits had got saturated from the rain and snow, they tasted sweet; besides, we had some meat remaining. That night we met with a loss. I placed the four birds and the wood-hen, which I had brought with me, by my side on the same stone as we were sitting on, never thinking that rats or mice could exist in such a desolate place, but in the morning we were horrified to see that the rats had found them out, and had left very little except the feathers. Next morning Mr. Whitcombe, by an observation with his instrument, assured me that we were about 1200 feet lower than the Pass. It still snowed; everything was covered with it; but among the rocks, continually increasing in size and number in the river-bed, a heavy spray was formed, washing the snow away. The river now becomes a succession of waterfalls; it falls from rock to rock into a basin; then over more rocks, and so on. The sides of the river bed rise nearly perpendicular for several thousand feet, quite impossible to ascend, although some few shrubs begin to cling to it now in spots. We scrambled on the whole day, and made about three miles. It now ceased to snow, and the spray from the rocks made us very wet. In the evening I endeavoured to make a fire, and succeeded, after much trouble. Then I carried together as much wood as would keep the fire burning all night, and we made some tea. Our sugar had got quite liquid and had saturated our blankets and clothes, but we only laughed at our loss; we could live well without sugar. We were seriously alarmed, however, about the biscuits; they had become one mass of wet dough, and we could easily see that in this form they would not keep long. I kept up a good fire the whole night, Mr. Whitcombe laid down, and I could hear that he slept. I could not sleep much, having to pay so much attention to the fire.

Next morning the snow ceased, the sun shone out, and was followed by a fine day; still we could not dry ourselves, the spray from the river kept us as wet as possible; we had a splendid sight—the sun shining on the spray tinted everything with the colors of the rainbow. We travelled for some hours among these changing colors, when we came to a place where an extensive earthslip had become fixed; here we were able to ascend a few hundred feet, high enough to be out of the reach of the spray, where we determined to rest ourselves for a while. We soon reached a dry spot, opened our swags, and laid everything in the sun, and then lay down ourselves. We could not see any blow-flies about, of which there are so many in all parts of the country. I soon fell asleep; I think Mr. Whitcombe did the same, but he awoke first, looked at his watch, and said we had been resting for an hour and a half, that we must pack up and get on our way. I quickly set to work to tie up my swag, but the blow-flies had found us out, and had covered everything with their eggs, his opossum rug was the worst; we cleaned everything as well as we could, packed them up, and descended once more among the spray. The rainbow colors had vanished, together with the sunshine; thick clouds rose up, and the same evening it rained again, and continued so all night, still I was able to make a fire, and we consoled ourselves with the hope that we had passed the worst of the road, and that it would soon improve; we had not come far that day—about four miles. The next morning we got off at daybreak, but our road, instead of improving, got worse; the river had increased in volume, and we could only occasionally find a spot where we could ford it; the sides, nearly perpendicular, were overgrown with dense scrub, the rocks getting larger and larger, the rain also continued incessant. About mid-day we reached some rocks in the river bed, of an enormous size, all wet and slippery; we scrambled on from one to another, often over dangerous places, and soon arrived at a place where I looked down straight into a deep whirlpool, and which it seemed impossible to cross. I said nothing, but took off my swag; Mr. Whitcombe soon came up, and, looking at it, said, "Now, Jacob, we are caught in earnest, and it is impossible to go on, the sides are perpendicular, and to return is even more impossible, since a great depth of snow must have fallen on the Pass lately." He asked me what I thought was the best thing to be done; considering the matter, I saw the point of a rock projecting over the surface of the water; I could let myself down on this with the rope, and then ascertain the depth of the water, whether it was possible to get through it. I told him my intention, with which he was well pleased. I fastened the rope to a small rock, which I lowered into the water on the opposite side, then threw the other end on to the projecting point, and lowered myself carefully down with my hands. The water boiled, and hissed, and foamed like a witch’s cauldron. I let myself down to the mouth, but could feel no bottom. I drew myself back on to the rock, and considered a moment what was to be done. I perceived a small hollow in the side of the rock, about a foot above the water. I could just place half the length of my finger in it, but I thought with the help of this to be able to cross. I directed Mr. Whitcombe to push the rope over on top towards the side-wall, then, holding myself...