ALBANY.

Here, just above a dazzling white sandy beach, a straggling village points out the township of Albany. Mounts Clarence and Melville reared their bare granitic heads on either side, and huge fantastically-shaped boulders were strewn over their slopes. The origin of this settlement may not be generally known: it was first planned, in consequence of a report that the French were about to establish themselves there; which turned out to be the truth, for they had actually formed and abandoned a settlement before Major Lockyer arrived from Sydney, in 1825. The gang of convicts he brought with him was withdrawn, when Albany became part of the government of Western Australia.

Among the few improvements that had taken place since our visit in 1836, were a jetty and a government storehouse. The latter was close to the spot where the observations were made, and where I noticed some trappean dykes intersecting the granite in a North-North-West direction. I observed the same circumstance at Simon's Bay, Cape of Good Hope.

I was sorry to see that the infant town of Albany had made so little progress, especially as it possesses by far the finest harbour in Western Australia. There is no doubt that ultimately its great natural advantages will be developed; but it is somewhat surprising that they have not already been turned to better account. Though there is not a very great extent of good land in the neighbourhood, there is amply sufficient to hold out encouragement to the settler; especially when we consider that this is one of the most healthy portions of the continent, that it is never visited by hot winds, and that the thermometer is rarely below 60 or above 85 degrees. This evenness of temperature at all times of the year is very remarkable, and renders the spot particularly suitable for invalids, many persons coming even from Swan River to renovate themselves. If our East Indians were aware of what a salubrious climate they might enjoy at King George's Sound, they would soon be seen flocking thither to repair the constitutions they have injured on the banks of the Ganges and the Indus.

Our object in visiting this place was to obtain a meridian distance; and between the observations for rating the chronometers I availed myself of an offer of Lieutenant Warburton, commanding the detachment of the 51st Regiment, doing duty there, to accompany him on a visit to the out-stations. We were joined by a person from the settlement, who owned some kangaroo dogs, and by three or four natives.

Leaving Albany, we reached the foot of a large clear piece of land called the Great Plain, about fifteen miles distant, and a little off the Swan River road.

BURNING THE BUSH.

On our way we met a party of natives engaged in burning the bush, which they do in sections every year. The dexterity with which they manage so proverbially a dangerous agent as fire is indeed astonishing. Those to whom this duty is especially entrusted, and who guide or stop the running flame, are armed with large green boughs, with which, if it moves in a wrong direction, they beat it out. Their only object in these periodical conflagrations seems to be the destruction of the various snakes, lizards, and small kangaroos, called wallaby, which with shouts and yells they thus force from their covert, to be despatched by the spears or throwing-sticks of the hunting division. The whole scene is a most animated one, and the eager savage, every muscle in action and every faculty called forth, then appears to the utmost advantage, and is indeed almost another being. I can conceive no finer subject for a picture than a party of these swarthy beings engaged in kindling, moderating, and directing the destructive element, which under their care seems almost to change its nature, acquiring, as it were, complete docility, instead of the ungovernable fury we are accustomed to ascribe to it. Dashing through the thick underwood, amidst volumes of smoke--their dark active limbs and excited features burnished by the fierce glow of the fire--they present a spectacle which it rarely falls to our lot to behold, and of which it is impossible to convey any adequate idea by words.

COURSE A KANGAROO.

After tethering out our horses and making our breakwind for the night, we went out in the evening to look for a kangaroo. I had never as yet seen one put fairly at his speed on open ground before a dog, but this evening I was fully gratified; for we soon found a couple lying out on our side of the plain, and by crawling up through the wood we managed to slip the dogs about five hundred yards from them. Away they went, leaving a stream of dust in their wake. Their habitual curving direction soon gave us a broadside view; and a splendid course it was. They ran horizontally, no leap or hop being perceptible. At first the dogs closed rapidly, but for some time afterwards no change in their relative positions took place, each doing his best. The kangaroos held their own well, until they had reached nearly the other side of the plain, a distance of about two miles, when the dogs began gradually to draw on them, and at length, after a turn or two, the smaller was run into just before entering the wood. It was a fine young buck, weighing about 60 pounds, and made a capital supper for our party. The natives cooked the tail for us in their own way, roasting it with the hair on, the best mode of dressing it, except in soup.