Those who have never felt proud of Australia, or have never noticed the beauty of her landscapes, the vastness of her skies and the intensity of her seas, can never understand the appeal she makes to those who can appreciate her boundless horizons. Others find beauty in her plains, her golden fields of wheat, or her tropical jungles.
Equally beautiful, and as beautiful as places in foreign countries, is the snow-fed river, beginning as a mere trickle among the alpine pastures, but gathering force and volume as it flashes over the rapids and rushes between the boulders. So it makes its way to. a pool shrouded by ti-trees, where it changes from its light colours to deep black.
In spring-time it reaches its greatest strength, when. beyond the timbered bills, the snow-capped mountains can be seen losing their white peaks to the sun's rays, and when the ti-tree showers its starry blossoms over the damp earth. Delicate pinks and pearly whites transform the drab bushes into things of beauty.
The air is crisp and fragrant with the perfume of the snow-gums, which have blossomed out with powdery-soft white puffs of blcom, contrasting with the dark green leaves. The branches of the trees are ivory white, and the whole scene is one of peace and solitude. The warbling of magpies does not disturb the solitude, and even the trout, lurking within the depths, appear demure.