At the lower end of the pass there is an engine-house in full
working order, and a great plateau of slate-coloured mulloch runs
out for some yards, and then there is a steep sloping bank formed by
the falling earth. In the moonlight this wonderful white gully looks
weird and bizarre; and even as Vandeloup and Kitty stood at the top
looking down into its dusty depths in the bright sunshine, it looks
fantastic and picturesque.
Seated on the highest point of the hill, under the shadow of a great
rock, the two lovers had a wonderful view of Ballarat. Here and
there they could see the galvanized iron roofs of the houses
gleaming like silver in the sunlight from amid the thick foliage of
the trees with which the city is studded. Indeed, Ballarat might
well be called the City of Trees, for seen from the Black Hill it
looks more like a huge park with a sprinkling of houses in it than
anything else. The green foliage rolls over it like the waves of the
ocean, and the houses rise up like isolated habitations. Now and
then a red brick building, or the slender white spire of a church
gave a touch of colour to the landscape, and contrasted pleasantly
with the bluish-white roofs and green trees. Scattered all through
the town were the huge mounds of earth marking the mining-shafts of
various colours, from dark brown to pure white, and beside them,
with the utmost regularity, were the skeleton towers of the poppet
heads, the tall red chimneys, and the squat, low forms of the
engine-houses.
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