Some time afterwards I made a journey to the west to a station owned by Mr. Barnard, and bearing the strange name Coomooboolaroo. The family of the squatter was particularly interested in natural history, an interest I had observed in several places, but rarely so marked as here. Mr. Barnard himself was a very able entomologist, and possessed a fine collection of insects, which he was constantly increasing. His wife was a great help to him, and made excellent drawings of the specimens. Their four sons had a similar taste, and they added to the family museum many valuable specimens. Upon the whole, these boys were the most skilful collectors I have ever met. They accompanied me on many excursions into the woods, when we camped together, and on such occasions I had the best opportunity of witnessing their matchless skill.

They climbed the trees as easily as any black man. When they had their tomahawks in their hands no tree was too high for them. Like the blacks, they cut niches in the bark for the support of their toes, and in this way they were able to secure insects found only in the highest tree-tops.

They were always barefooted, in order to get about more easily, and the stones and uneven ground gave them no trouble on our excursions, as they planted their supple and sure feet in the most difficult places. Ever on the alert, nothing escaped their attention.