lake could not fly away, and my friend's house was within half a mile of it. At last, in about four hours' time, I emerged into the open country, and entered upon a vast marsh, which was bounded at a great distance by a range of high wooded hills. There were mountains to be seen all round in this land of enchantment—mountains piled on mountains. For a time immersed to the waist in an ocean, so to speak, of rushes, which greatly added to the fatigue of walking, I plodded on; but it was fortunate for me that I was not compelled to wade up to my knees in water, or flounder pitiably over my boot-tops in hideous black mud. The time was passing quickly, the sun was sinking, and the end of my journey seemed as far off as ever. Extricating myself at last from the thick rushes, I strode into the wood again, which was now much more open, and then toiled wearily on until, as night was coming on, I arrived at a paddock, in which a new weather-boarded cottage could be descried at a little distance. This proved to be the very dwelling of which I was in search. I received a warm welcome, as is usually the case under such circumstances, and soon sat down to enjoy a refreshing cup of tea. The honours of the table were done by a young lady, a sister of my host, who, with her little niece, resides here during the summer, and takes great pleasure in the pure mountain air and in the delightful scenery around the lake.
I was told a great deal that evening about the curiosities of the locality. There is a so-called phantom island in Lake Sorell, and I was a week in my friend's house before I succeeded in getting a glimpse of it. There is also a beautiful wooded island in it which is by no means a phantom. The lake is about ten miles in diameter, and is surrounded, except in a few marshy places, with rocky and densely-wooded shores. It might be appropriately called the Tasmanian Lake of the Woods. On its southern
