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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Yes under your drays." As we literally determined to "camp out" on the journey, we passed on, without partaking of their "cold eatables," or availing ourselves of their permission to sleep under our own drays, and, leaving the road to Sydney on our right, and the one to Keilor straight before us, we turned short off to the left towards the Deep Creek.
Williams, and is still alive, with a creditable total of family. Beyond was the trackless bush, excepting the bush tracks to Sydney, and in the Flemington and Keilor direction. But outside the town were already several suburbs, of which Collingwood was the largest, having the residences of John Hunter Patterson and other leading early colonists.
Breakfast over, our temporary residences were pulled down, the drays loaded, and our journey recommenced. We soon reached the Deep Creek, and crossed by means of a punt, the charges being the same as the one at Keilor. Near here is a station belonging to Mr. Ryleigh, which is a happy specimen of a squatter's home everything being managed in a superior manner.
Keilor is a pretty little village with a good inn, several nice cottages, and a store or two. The country round is hilly and barren scarcely any herbage and that little is rank and coarse; the timber is very scarce. This road to the diggings is not much used. But to return to ourselves.
The former route leads over the Keilor Plains, and through Bacchus Marsh, crossing the Werribee River in two places. Mount Buninyong then appears in sight of the well-pleased traveller, and Ballarat is soon reached. The route VIA Geelong is much quicker, as part of the way is generally performed by steam at the rate of one pound a-piece. Those who wish to save their money go to Geelong by land.
I still fancy, though our redoubtable captain most strenuously denied it, that we had in some manner gone out of our way; however that may be, the roads seemed worse and worse as we proceeded, and our pace became more tedious as here and there it was up-hill work till at length we reached the Keilor plains.
The Keilor plains seemed almost impassable, and what with pieces of rock here, and a water-hole there, crossing them was more dangerous than agreeable. Now one passed a broken-down dray; then one's ears were horrified at the oaths an unhappy wight was venting at a mud-hole into which he had stumbled.
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