The mammal men have got off to a slow start with five spp. for two nights trapping and jacking, and some day hunting. Rattus aff. leucopus, Melomys, Uromys, spotted phalanger, and a Phascogale have been taken. The Phascogale represents a big northward extension of range for its group. A larger number of traps are out tongith. Vernon is kept busy with birds. Many species here, and Pinwell of Main Roads drives up a couple of times per day with big birds such as the palm cockatoo, and megapodes. Tuesday June 8: Botanical prospecting of the area took me 3 miles back along the Portland Roads road to some infertile hills of broken quartz rising about 350 ft. above sea level. In clear weather, the sea can be seen from the tops of these hills. Today was showery, and blowing hard from the southeast. This bad weather is perhaps mainly coastal, for inland a few miles the Janet Range stood out fairly clearly and I was able to make photos a stretch taking in Mt. Tozer, South Pap and North Pap. The dominant vegetation type of the quartz hills is a low shrubby growth of Agonis and grasstree (Xanthorrhoea), in which are rather widely spaced small trees such as yellow-flowered "black teatree," red-flowered form of Melaleuca symphyocarpa, Casuarina, and Banksia. Cattlemen call this type of country "desert." It affords lean pick- ings for cattle and horses, but usually it is rich in species of plants. Not so these particular ridges. The only notable plant new to the collection was Xanthorrhoea, which still carried a few old fruiting spikes. It is not generally known that the tender heart of the grasstree is as good to eat as the cabbage of most palms. I ate some today. Tender and sweetish. The resin of the plant has been used in the manufacture of explosives. My trip to the quartz ridges, and Willie's, was per push bike. Willie assured me that he could ride a bike "little bit." His exhib- ition reminded me of my recent trials at Lockerbie. Willie could pedal long the wide military highway after I held the machine for him to get on. I thought him a goner on one stretch. My procedure was get him mounted and started, then ride slowly ahead to give him a lead. By listening for a squeak in his bike, I could tell he was coming along without turning my head, and perhaps capsizing myself. Gaining some confidence in my pupil, I thought on the homeward trip that he was good enough to take moderate downhill going. I had barely started down a long slope when I missed the squeak behind me. Then Willie came hurtling by, feet hanging, machete swinging from his belt, and a big bag of plants on his back. I could only call to him to hang on and steer straight. There was a bridge over a deep creek at the bottom of the slope, and the bridge had no siderails. Willie's nerve lasted just long enough. When almost over the bridge, he gave a dangerous wobble, recovered, and landed in a bed of weeds on the far side.