The first settlers had a most providential escape from a calamity of this kind: they had originally selected for the site of their new city, a low-lying piece of land, which, during the first winter after their arrival, was visited with one of these strange and unexplained invasions from the swelling stream: had the deluge been delayed for another year, these luckless inhabitants of a new world would have shared the fate of those to whom Noah preached in vain; but, warned in time, they chose some safer spot, from whence, in future, they and their descendants may safely contemplate the awful grandeur of similar occurrences, and thankfully profit by the fertility and abundance which succeed to such wholesale irrigation. During this, our first visit, I had no opportunity of penetrating into the country further than the Darling range: in journeying thither, we passed through Guildford, a township on the banks of the Swan, about seven miles north-east from Perth, and four from the foot of the mountains. It stands upon a high part of the alluvial flat fringing the river, and which extends from half to one mile from it on either side. The rich quality of the soil may be imagined from the fact, that, in 1843, after thirteen years of successive cropping, it produced a more abundant harvest than it had done at first, without any artificial aid from manures.

SINGULAR FLIGHT OF STRANGE BIRDS.

A singular flight of strange birds, was noticed at Guildford about the year 1833, during the time when the corn was green: they arrived in an innumerable host, and were so tame as to be easily taken by hand. In general appearance they resembled the land-rail, but were larger, and quite as heavy on the wing. They disappeared in the same mysterious manner as they arrived, and have never since repeated their visit. Were these birds visitors from the interior, or had they just arrived at the end of a migratory journey from some distant country? It is to be regretted that no specimen of them was to be obtained, as it might have helped to clear an interesting subject from doubt.

THE DARLING RANGE.

The change in ascending this range, from the alluvium near its base, to the primitive formation of which it is itself composed, is very remarkable. Shells still common on the adjacent coasts were met with 14 feet below the surface, near the foot of the range, by one of the colonists when sinking a well. In the same locality deposits of sand may be seen, having that particular wavy appearance which is always noticed upon the sea beach. These appearances, as well as the general aspect of the adjacent country, seem to justify the conclusion I arrived at while on the spot, that the land which now intervenes between the mountains and the shore, is a comparatively recent conquest from the sea. The character of this land may be thus described: The first three miles from the coast is occupied with ridges of hills, from 100 to 200 feet high, of calcareous limestone formation, cropping out in such innumerable points and odd shapes as to be almost impassable. Some of these lumps resemble a large barnacle; both lumps and points are covered with long, coarse grass, and thus concealed, become a great hindrance to the pedestrian, who is constantly wounded by them. To these ridges succeed sandy forest land and low hills, except on the banks of the rivulets, where a belt of alluvial soil is to be found. The Darling range traverses the whole of Western Australia in a direction, generally speaking, north and south. It appears to subside towards the north, and its greatest elevation is nearly 2,000 feet. The cliffs of the coast at the mouth of Swan River, have a most singular appearance, as though covered with thousands of roots, twisted together into a species of network.

A SINGULAR CLIFF.

A similar curiosity is to be seen on Bald Head, in King George's Sound, so often alluded to by former navigators, and by them mistaken either for coral, or petrified trees standing where they originally grew. Bald Head was visited by Mr. Darwin, in company with Captain Fitzroy, in February 1836, and his opinions upon the agencies of formation, so exactly coincide with those to which I attribute the appearances at Arthur's Head, that I cannot do better than borrow his words. He says--page 537, volume 3, "According to our views, the rock was formed by the wind heaping up calcareous sand, during which process, branches and roots of trees, and land-shells were enclosed, the mass being afterwards consolidated by the percolation of rain water. When the wood had decayed, lime was washed into the cylindrical cavities, and became hard, sometimes even like that in a stalactite. The weather is now wearing away the softer rock, and in consequence the casts of roots and branches project above the surface: their resemblance to the stumps of a dead shrubbery was so exact, that, before touching them, we were sometimes at a loss to know which were composed of wood, and which of calcareous matter."*

(*Footnote. For more exact details the reader should consult Mr. Darwin's volume on Volcanic Islands.)

THE NATIVES.

We were much struck during our stay by the contrast between the natives here, and those we had seen on the Beagle's former voyage at King George's Sound. The comparison was wholly in favour of those living within the influence of their civilized fellow-men: a fact which may surprise some of my readers, but for which, notwithstanding, I am quite prepared to vouch. A better quality, and more certain supply of food, are the causes to which this superiority ought to be attributed: they are indeed exceedingly fond of wheaten bread, and work hard for the settlers, in cutting wood and carrying water, in order to obtain it. Individually they appear peaceable, inoffensive, and well-disposed, and, under proper management, make very good servants; but when they congregate together for any length of time, they are too apt to relapse into the vices of savage life. Among the many useful hints, for which we were indebted to Mr. Roe, was that of taking a native with us to the northward; and, accordingly, after some trouble, we shipped an intelligent young man, named Miago; he proved, in some respects, exceedingly useful, and made an excellent gun-room waiter. We noticed that, like most of the natives, he was deeply scarred, and I learned from him that this is done to recommend them to the notice of the ladies. Like all savages, they are treacherous--for uncivilized man has no abstract respect for truth, and consequently deceit, whether spoken or acted, seems no baseness in his eyes.