WILD CATTLE HUNTING.

Having received intelligence that a numerous herd of wild cattle had lately been seen grazing upon some extensive plains a day's journey south of Perth, I got up a party with the intention of hunting them.

Our preparations were made the day before starting on the expedition. A bullock-cart was loaded with fire-arms, kegs of brandy, various kinds of provisions, and cloaks and blankets. A couple of natives had been engaged to act as guides, and these, with their wives and families, spent the greater part of the day lounging about my premises, idly inspecting the arrangements, and sleeping in the sunshine, lazy as the pigs, which they surpassed in filth. In the afternoon, taking with them a supply of flour, they commenced their journey, intending to sleep upon the road, and leave us to overtake them on the following day.

At day-break the next morning we were in our saddles, the bullock-cart having started during the night. The party consisted of three, who were all clad in blue hunting-shirts, and had polished horns hanging at their backs, filled with eau-de-vie, wine and water, or the simple fluid, according to the taste of the wearer. As we passed down the silent street at that early hour, one of the party, an officer, agreeably dispelled the slumbers of the peaceful inhabitants by a most able performance upon a key-bugle; the others gave vent to the exuberance of their spirits by loud "tally-ho's!" and cries of "hark away!" and other encouraging expressions addressed to imaginary dogs. Then we gave our able steeds the head, and dashed along with all those happy and exulting thoughts which bubble in the breast of youth hurrying to the chase. Is there any moment in life so dear to memory as those we have passed on horseback, in the fine air of morning, when we hurried along towards the haunt of cunning Reynard, and expected every instant to see him break cover? Less exciting by far is hunting in Australia, but still it is hunting, and we are on horseback, and eager as ever for a gallop. Passing over two well-built wooden bridges, connected by a causeway, we crossed the river, and took the road for the Canning.

Thick woods of banksia, wattle, and eucalypti, closed in the view on every side; but occasionally we ascended a gentle slope, and then looking back we could see a beautiful picture before us. In the still air and misty light of the morning, Perth water lay clear and tranquil amidst the vast forest by which it is surrounded. The heights of Mount Eliza looked down into the glittering mirror. On the right bank were the white houses of the capital; far to the left we caught glimpses of Melville water. Except the occasional flights of wild ducks, and the dark gusts which from time to time swept along the waters, heralding the rising land-wind, all was still and breathless. One could not help asking oneself how long this scene had existed as we now beheld it? Was it designed for thousands of years to be viewed only by savages, mindless as the birds or fishes that frequented its waters? Had it always existed thus, or been growing during centuries under the hand of Nature, until it should be adapted to the habitation of civilized man? And was that period now arrived, or were we premature in seizing upon our inheritance before it was thoroughly prepared for our reception? Many times have we asked ourselves this last question. This singular country appears to represent the ancient character of the earth in one of the earlier stages of formation. It represents that epoch when animal life was first developed in the lowest order of quadrupeds.

There are a few small exceptions, but it may be laid down as a general rule, that all the animals indigenous to this country are marsupial—from the kangaroo, the largest down to the little field-mouse.

The animals not indigenous are Man, the wild cattle, and the wild dogs. Many speculations have been hazarded as to the origin of the first: to me it appears there can be little doubt that the first tribes found their way hither from the eastern islands, having proceeded originally from India. The language of the natives bears more traces of the Hindu than of any other. This, I believe, is the opinion of the Rev. J. Mitchell, M.A., of the Middle Swan, whose long residence in India, and intimate acquaintance with some of the languages of that country, give weight to his conjectures. Many of the words used by the natives of both countries are identical in sound, and express the same meaning.

I have also noticed that the Coolies of India and the natives of this colony manage to understand one another much sooner than is the case between the latter and the whites.

The wild cattle have long existed in the interior, as appears from their remains. Both they and the wild dog have probably descended from animals cast ashore by shipwreck. The indigenous tribes are those of the kangaroo, the opossum, and the lizard. It is curious to observe how the distinguishing features of the first are manifested in a great variety of animals, of all sizes from the kangaroo downwards—the long hind, and short fore legs, the three toes on the former, the rat-like-head, the warm pouch, betokening the immature parturition. The opossums also are marsupial. All these animals seem to belong to an early age of the geological world. Many of the plants speak the same language—especially the Zamia. The rocks, too, of this portion of New Holland are all primary, except the limestone and sandstone near the coast. Is this country, then, a portion of the world that has remained in the same state for thousands, or hundreds of thousands, of years; or is it of comparatively recent formation, exhibiting that condition which at one period belonged to the whole surface of the earth? The latter, of course, must be the case; and if so, we cannot help thinking that further changes must take place in its geological character before it shall be permanently occupied by civilized man. At present, however, it must be admitted there is no sign of volcanic action going on to effect these changes. Our conjectures are purely speculative, and will probably meet with no sympathy from the reader, but we throw them out because the subject is full of wonder and mystery; and those who have brought personal observation to bear upon it, best know it to be so. As we wander through the lacustrine valleys which abound here; valleys once the beds of rivers, but now broad swamps choked up with lofty reeds—we feel as though we were in the land and the age of the Saurians.

The whole country swarms with lizards, some of which, to the northward, grow to the size of five feet; but the most common are the 'Iguana', or 'Guana', a creature some ten or twelve inches long, with a flat head, very wide mouth, and only the stump of a tail. they are perfectly harmless, and subsist upon frogs and insects. One variety of this species, found in the district of King George's Sound, was brought to my notice by my brother. It is usually found in a tuft of grass, where it lies completely hidden except its tongue, which is thrust upwards, and bears an exact resemblance to the petal of a flower, crimson and pink. Flies seem to delight in resting upon this deceptive flower, which being covered with an adhesive mucous substance, takes them prisoner, and proves their destruction.