number were collected to insure their passage through it in safety. Latterly, however, the place, although offering uncommon opportunities of concealment to the bushranger, has become so quiet, that no more fear is entertained by those who pass through it than on any other portion of the road. The Black Forest well deserves its name, for it is as gloomy a place as the imagination could well conceive. It is situated at the foot of Mount Macedon, and extends for several miles in all directions. The timber, chiefly stringy-bark, is very large—indeed by far the largest that I saw in Port Phillip. The stringy-bark of itself is a dismal looking tree, and is here more so, from having its trunk blackened with fire. The underwood, too, is very thick, which adds to the gloom of the forest. Some years ago there were great fires in several parts of Victoria, which occasioned an immense destruction of life and property. The day on which the fire took place, or in which it was at the highest pitch, is still known in Port Phillip by the name of Black Thursday. Traces of this fire are to be seen in several other localities beside the Black Forest. The part of the forest through which we passed was about twelve miles across, commencing at a place called Wood's End and ending at the Bush Inn. There are now several accommodation houses in the forest, which were much needed.
The road through the forest was crowded with teams; and it certainly would have been a difficult matter for any gang of bushrangers to have committed any depredations, as they would have been obliged to "stick up" hundreds of drays. One of my companions counted no less than seventy-five drays within the space of a mile. It must be taken into consideration, also, that there were three or four other roads to the diggings, on all of which the traffic was nearly as great as on that of which I am speaking. After leaving the Bush Inn you again come into an open country of trap formation. The soil, though uncultivated, is evidently fertile, and would be admirably adapted to the cultivation of the vine. The most peculiar feature of the scene is Mount Macedon, which is visible both from Melbourne and the diggings, rising almost abruptly from the surrounding country. In consequence of its vicinity to Mount Macedon, scarcely a day passes on which more or less rain does not fall in the Black Forest,—a fact which was exemplified when we passed through it. The trees in many places after leaving the forest are dying out, and as there are no new ones springing up to replace them, it seems probable that in time a great portion of Victoria will be quite destitute of timber. From Spring Hill, distant about twenty-seven miles from Melbourne, there is a splendid view over Keilor Plains, which are clothed with the most luxuriant verdure. The view extends as far as the sea coast, and on a clear day the shipping in William's Town can be distinctly seen. We camped this night at Jackson's Creek, where there was the greatest abundance of feed and excellent water.
Friday morning was cold and rainy, and as we had to travel through an open country, we found it impossible to keep ourselves warm. We crossed the Deep Creek, which flows between banks of a great height, and in the winter season carries all before it. The country is of granitic formation, and along the banks of the creek highly picturesque, though tame enough everywhere else. What forcibly strikes the traveller in Victoria is the entirely uncultivated state of the country, and the almost total want of gardens and orchards, notwithstanding the fertility of the greater portion of the soil. In this respect, also, the contrast between Melbourne and Sydney is very unfavourable to the former, the numerous gardens and shrubberies in and around Sydney giving it an infinitely superior and
