Soon after dark we were visited by a squall from the eastward, longer in duration, and heavier than any we had before experienced. From our exposed situation—no land intervening for 30 miles—it raised a good deal of sea: the wind remained fresh at the east during the greater part of the night.

February 24.

The morning broke, dark, gloomy, and threatening; but, as the day advanced, it gradually assumed its usual bright and brilliant character; and at seven A.M. we started, Mr. Helpman having the whaleboat, while Mr. Tarrant accompanied me in the yawl. We crossed Disaster Bay in four and five fathoms, steering in the direction of Valentine Island, and inside a long sandy spit, partly dry at low-water, and extending two-thirds of the way across.

FRESHWATER LAKE.

While waiting for the tide to rise, in order to cross this natural breakwater, we landed, and struggled for a good mile through a mixture of deep mud and sand, drifted, at the coastline, into hills of from twenty-five to thirty feet high, and bound together by a long coarse grass; immediately beyond which we came upon a small lake of fresh water, where all the luxuriant growth of tropical vegetation was starting into life, and presenting an almost miraculous contrast to the barren sterility, that stamped an aspect of changeless desolation upon the rest of this inhospitable shore. Indeed, so far as our experience extended, upon the coasts, and within the interior of this in many respects extraordinary continent, the want of water appears to be the chief drawback to the fertility otherwise to be anticipated from its geographical position: at the same time, it is quite impossible to blind oneself to the fact, that further researches on the one hand, and the application of the great discoveries in hydraulics, of which recent years have been so fruitful, on the other, may, and probably will, spread the vernal bloom of cultivation over wastes, now condemned to prolonged and arbitrary periods of drought.

This spot, which long arrested my attention, and upon which I gazed with the selfish feeling of delight inspired by the thought that thereon never before had rested the curious eye of any restless and indefatigable wanderer from the west, is distant about 500 yards North-North-West, from a solitary patch of low red cliffs, the first of this formation that present themselves south of Foul Point.

VALENTINE ISLAND.

Extensive flats fronting the coast to the southward, almost connect it at low-water with Valentine Island, which we reached at two P.M., just on the top of high-water, and shortly afterwards grounded the boats in a small bay to the westward. The greatest extent of Valentine Island is three-quarters of a mile in an East by South direction: either extremity is formed by high cliffs, a low valley intervening.

NATIVE FIRE AND FOOD.

On landing we found a fire still burning, near the beach, and beside it a bundle of the bark of the papyrus tree, in which were carefully packed a quantity of ground nuts, they were each about three-quarters of an inch long, and in shape not unlike a kidney potato;* it seemed clear, judging from the native value of the commodities thus rashly abandoned, that our arrival had rather taken by surprise these untutored children of the wilderness: we saw nothing of them till we had reembarked, when (four or five only in number) they returned to the beach; and we could perceive that our foot tracks, upon which they appeared to hold an animated debate, had, to say the least, mightily puzzled them. I ascended the highest point of the island in the afternoon, and from thence looked over several miles of densely wooded country, but offering no appearance of land to the eastward of South-South-East. We gazed with indescribable delight upon the wide expanse of open water which lay before us in that direction, and already anticipated the discovery of some vast inlet, terminating in the mouth of a magnificent river, upon the exploration of which our imagination was already busily engaged; nor for the moment did the thought, or rather the recollection of the fact, that Captain King had seen land (by refraction) in that quarter, serve to damp our ardour. When it made its way, and perseveringly insisted upon engaging a certain share of my attention, its presence only added an additional motive to my previous determination to set the question at rest by personal examination, and in the interim, to look immediately before sunrise (when the atmosphere within the tropics is always clear) for the very sight I should have been most disappointed to have beheld. During the afternoon I shot over the island, and enjoyed some very fair sport; especially with the pheasant-cuckoo,** and quail, large and small, which were numerous: several birds not unlike the so-called crow of the Swan River colonists were seen. We found no fresh water, but in addition to the abundance of game, the presence of the natives, proves the island to be not wholly destitute of this first requisite of life. The thermometer at 3 P.M., was 100 degrees in the shade, while the unnatural calm that reigned around gave the experienced seaman plain warning of some disturbance at hand.

(*Footnote. This esculent appeared to resemble the warran, or yam, used for food by the native inhabitants north of Swan River.)

(**Footnote. Centropus phasianellus. Gould.)

A HEAVY SQUALL.

Just before sunset these anxious anticipations proved correct: a mass of broad edged white clouds rose rapidly in the east, and spread over the till then unbroken blue of the vast vault above; among or rather behind the interstices of these clouds, the lightning quivered and flashed fearfully and fitfully, gleaming with a terrible distinctness in the fading light of expiring day! Anon, darker and more ominous clouds succeeded to the first, and quickly uniting seemed to span all heaven with a frowning arch, that came rapidly onwards upon the wings of the now-rising tempest. It was some time ere its approach either attracted the attention or disturbed the boisterous mirth of the boats' crews, who, with the enviable philosophy of their class, were gaily laughing over the incidents of the day. I had just secured a good latitude by Canopus, when the squall burst upon us from East-South-East, it blew very hard indeed for about an hour, veering round to, and terminating at, North-East, and then all was calm again; partaking of the general characteristics of previous visitations of the same kind, to which we have been subject since our arrival upon this coast, it lasted for a much less time, as hitherto their average duration had been about three hours. It brought the thermometer down to 80 degrees. All was quiet by midnight, and undisturbed by the past we finished the night in peace. Daybreak found us at the eastern end of the island, from which point we observed a low strip of land bearing east about 16 miles distant; a fact which re-establishes Captain King's authority, against Mr. Earle's contradiction.* This confirmation of that distinguished and able navigator, in some degree reconciled me to the unpropitious discovery, that the shores of this great sheet of water were visibly beginning to contract.

(*Footnote. Vide Earle's Eastern Seas page 451.)

WILD OAT.

During our walk we noticed the wild oat in great abundance. This valuable species of corn is then indigenous to this part of the world. Ere long, perhaps, the time will arrive when upon the coast, where now in native negligence it springs and dies, it may spread the white and glistening garment of cultivation—testify the existence—and promote the comfort of social life. The same seed was found near Hanover Bay, by Lieutenants Grey and Lushington, and throve exceedingly well in the soft and luxurious climate of the ever-verdant Mauritius. Leaving some presents in a conspicuous situation for the present rightful possessors of the island, whose temporary shelter we had obtained, we hastened back to the boats, and stood away to the eastward for the low land seen from the island, and crossed various narrow sandy ridges, nearly dry at low-water, and generally trending North and South, showing the direction of the stream by which they were formed, and at distances of 5, 7, 9, and 12 miles, in an East by South direction from Valentine Island; the soundings between them averaged from 7 to 9 fathoms. A favouring breeze from the south helped us halfway across to the point, from whence I hoped and believed we should hereafter date the first great event of the voyage; and then dying away, compelled us to take to the oars, with the thermometer at 110 degrees in the shade.

INDICATIONS OF A RIVER.

As we proceeded, several circumstances concurred to satisfy me that we were at length really approaching the mouth of a considerable river; large trees drifted past us with the ebbing tide, while each cast of the lead proved that we were gradually, though nearing the land, deepening the water.

POINT TORMENT.

Fortune too seemed now resolved to favour us, the deep channel most opportunely lying along the eastern shore, which we reached soon after noon, and landed on the only beach of sand hereabouts left uncovered at high-water. Here, for better security against the squalls we had experienced for the last two nights, we hauled up the boats. A name was soon found for our new territory, upon which we with rueful unanimity conferred that of Point Torment, from the incessant and vindictive attacks of swarms of mosquitoes, by whom it had evidently been resolved to give the newcomers a warm welcome. The greater part of Point Torment is deeply intersected with deep narrow creeks, and is almost entirely flooded at high-water: it extends low and swampy for nearly three miles in breadth, and then rises gradually, the slope being well wooded with the white Eucalypti. Here also I remarked the gouty-stem tree, figured by Captain Grey, and described by Captain King, as of the Nat. Ord. Capparides, and thought to be a Capparis; it also bears a resemblance to the Adansonia described in Captain Tuckey's Congo. This was but a small specimen in fruit, of which the following brief description may convey a tolerably clear idea. In shape it something resembled the coconut, with a gourd-like outside, of a brown and yellow colour. Its length was five inches, and diameter three. The shell was exceedingly thin, and when opened it was found to be full of seeds, imbedded in a whitish pulp, and of a not ungrateful taste.

This place, latitude 17 degrees 5 minutes South, may be considered the limit of its growth in that direction, and the Victoria River, of which I shall have occasion to speak hereafter, in latitude 14 degrees 55 minutes, the northern boundary of its indigenous empire.

We saw no traces of inhabitants, not even the thin rising smoke, which so often greeted our eyes near the coast we had recently surveyed. I climbed the highest tree we could find, and from the elevation it afforded looked southwards over a wide prospect of nothing but mangroves and mudbanks; still interesting from the fact that upon them the wondering gaze of the curious European had never yet been bent!

THE MOSQUITOES.

Procuring the necessary observations completed the duties of the day; but, alas! the sleep all could have enjoyed so much after our work, was rendered impossible by the swarms of mosquitoes, who at sunset relieved those of their tribe upon whom the day duty had devolved, and commenced a most unsparing attack upon us: all devices to escape them were tried in vain, and some of the men were really half mad with the insufferable annoyance: at last, about eight o'clock, when all patience seemed exhausted, a welcome peal of thunder, and bright flashes of lightning announced the expected and much desired squall. It served to blow away some of our persecutors; but our rest was of very short duration, and I was at length compelled to order the people to take to the boats, fairly driven from the shore by our diminutive but invincible assailants. The tide set past the boats at the rate of four knots per hour, and it fell 33 feet, being 6 feet more than we had as yet found it. The only rock seen here was a block, visible at low-water; it was a conglomerate, and the most southerly formation of the kind we met with.

THE FLOOD-TIDE.

February 26.

The daylight found us all anxiously speculating upon the probable results to be accomplished before the darkness once more closed in upon us, but the morning being perfectly calm, we were compelled to wait till the flood-tide made: this soon took us past an island four miles from the eastern shore, seen the evening before, and which now proved to be a narrow strip, covered with the never-failing mangrove; and having two smaller islands, nearly identical in character, lying two miles south of it. We passed them at noon, and saw the land to the westward, our position being then 20 miles south of Point Torment. The water had shoaled in several places during the passage to less than a fathom (low-water); but the tide hemmed in by the contraction of this great inlet (the left shore of which gradually trending to the eastward, here approached to within six miles of the opposite coast) still hurried us on with a rapidity agreeable enough but not quite free from danger, towards what appeared to be the mouth of a large river. If our exultation had been great in the morning, when such success as this was only half anticipated, what was it at that exciting moment when the eventful hour which should give us the triumph of such a discovery as that we now fairly anticipated, seemed within our grasp? I cannot answer for others, but for myself I had never known a sensation of greater delight. Doubt, disappointment, difficulty, and danger; all, all were unheeded or forgotten in the one proud thought that for us was reserved an enterprise the ultimate results of which might in some future year affect the interests of a great portion of the world! Presently, as if to recall to their routine of duty, these upward-springing thoughts, the boats were found to be rapidly carried by the stream towards an extensive flat, which appeared to extend right across the opening towards which all eyes had been turned with so much eagerness, and over which the tide was boiling and whirling with great force. To attempt to cross would have been madness; there was nothing, therefore, to be done but patiently await the rising of the tide.

ESCAPE POINT.

The nearest land, a mangrove point bearing South-South-East one mile, we afterwards named Escape Point, in grateful memory of the providential escapes we experienced in its vicinity. Where the boats were anchored we had nearly five feet at low-water, and the tide ran past them at the rate of five miles an hour. As soon as possible we again started, in a south by west direction, and proceeded for about five miles, when the boats were anchored, near the western shore, which we proposed to visit at low-water. From the yawl's masthead I traced the shore all round, except to the south-east, where I could see an opening about a mile wide. The western land was slightly elevated, perhaps to 70 feet, and clothed with rather large trees, while to the eastward the land appeared very low. As the tide ebbed, we found, to our disappointment and mortification, that the flat over which we reckoned to secure a passage to the mainland, never became quite dry (the tide here falling only 18 feet) while from its soft and treacherous character, it was impossible to cross it on foot.

MOUTH OF THE FITZROY.

All doubt about our being in the mouth of a river was put an end to by finding that, during the last of the ebb, the water was nearly fresh. This discovery was hailed by us all with a pleasure which persons only familiar with the well-watered and verdant fields of England cannot fully comprehend.

Our success afforded me a welcome opportunity of testifying to Captain Fitzroy my grateful recollection of his personal kindness; and I determined, with Captain Wickham's permission, to call this new river after his name, thus perpetuating, by the most durable of monuments, the services and the career of one, in whom, with rare and enviable prodigality, are mingled the daring of the seaman, the accomplishments of the student, and the graces of the Christian—of whose calm fortitude in the hour of impending danger, or whose habitual carefulness for the interests of all under his command, if I forbear to speak, I am silent because, while I recognise their existence, and perceive how much they exalt the character they adorn, I feel, too, that they have elevated it above, either the need, or the reach of any eulogy within my power to offer!

I felt pretty confident that the first rush of the tide upon its reflux would be violent, and had made preparation accordingly. In the first watch these anticipations were realized, and I was roused from a momentary doze by a loud roaring, which I at once recognized to be the voice of thunder, heralding the advancing tide.

TIDE-BORE.

The night was pitch dark, and though I instinctively turned my eyes towards the offing, I could see nothing, but as each anxious moment passed away, the fearful voice of the waters sounded nearer and nearer, and within less time than I have occupied in the narration, the full force of the rush of tide coming on like a wall, several feet high, and bringing our anchor away with it, was upon us. The cable thus slackened, the yawl sheered, and was thrown violently upon her broadside in the midst of it, and had it not been for the shores lashed to each mast, she must inevitably have capsized. The whaleboat fared better; being lighter she was the sooner afloat, and besides her buoyant bow was the better able to receive and resist the shock. When the tide slacked we returned to the deep water off Escape Point, and spent the remainder of the night in quiet, I would fain hope, so far as most of us were concerned, not without a thankful remembrance of Him, whose merciful providence had been so recently manifested in our behalf!

ASCENT OF THE FITZROY.

February 27.

Leaving Mr. Tarrant in charge of the yawl, I proceeded with Mr. Helpman to trace the river, immediately after daylight. Against the last of the ebb tide, and with the thermometer at 80 degrees, we contrived to reach a spot two miles beyond Point Escape before noon. From Point Escape upwards, there appeared to be, at low-water, no regular channel; the bed of the river assumed the aspect of an extensive flat of mud, intersected with small rivulets or streams that served to drain it. No signs of human habitation were seen along its banks, which divided by numerous small creeks, and thickly fringed with the unfailing mangrove, stretched away in level and drear monotony, only broken towards the west by land of inconsiderable elevation. The circling flight of the ever-wary curlew, and the shrill cry of the plover, now first disturbed in their accustomed territory, alone vouched for the presence of animal life in that vast solitude, the effect of which they heightened, rather than removed!

RETURN ON FOOT.

Finding the further ascent almost if not altogether impracticable at the present state of the tide, I ordered the boat back to Point Escape, and landed, accompanied by Mr. Helpman, and a seaman, intending to return on foot.

PERILOUS SITUATION.

The shore was a soft mud, in which the small mangroves had found a most congenial soil: while our journey every now and then, arrested by the intervention of one or other of the numerous little creeks of which I have before spoken, promised to prove a more fatiguing, if not more hazardous affair, than we had originally contemplated.

We managed at first, by ascending their banks for a short distance from the river, to jump across these opposing creeks, but as the tide rose, they filled and widened in proportion, and each moment increased the difficulties of our position, now heightened by the untoward discovery that William Ask, the seaman who had accompanied us, was unable to swim!

Time and tide, however, wait for no man, and the rapidly rising waters had flooded the whole of the low land which formed this bank of the river, so that we were compelled to wade, feeling with a stick for the edges of the creeks in our route, over each of which Mr. Helpman and myself had alternately to swim in order to pass the arms undamaged; and then Ask, making the best jump that he could muster for the occasion, was dragged ashore on the opposite side. At length we reached a creek, the breadth of which rendered this mode of proceeding no longer practicable, and we were compelled to stop, being fortunately very near the point where I had directed the boat to meet us. Our situation was now anything but pleasant, the water being already above our knees, and the tide having still several hours to rise; while the mangrove trees by which we were surrounded, were all too slender to afford the least support.

In this state of affairs, leaving Mr. Helpman with Ask—who had secured a piece of drift timber as a last resource—I made my way to the edge of the shore, only to find that the boat, unable to stem the current, had anchored some distance above us! Mr. Helpman and myself might have reached her by swimming; but even could I have easily reconciled myself to part with our arms and instruments, at any rate to abandon poor Ask in the dilemma into which I had brought him was not to be thought of. By repeated discharges of my gun I at last succeeded in attracting the attention of the boat's crew, who made an immediate and desperate effort to come to our assistance: while their strength lasted they just contrived to hold their own against the tide, then, drifting astern, were again compelled to anchor. The attempt was renewed, when an equally desperate struggle was followed by just as fruitless a result: the force of the stream was clearly more than they could overcome, and an intervening bank precluded any attempt to creep up to us along the shore.

Most anxiously did I watch the water as it changed its upward level almost with the rapidity of an inch a minute, being in doubt whether it would rise above our heads, ere it afforded a sufficient depth to carry the boat over the intervening bank, and bring us the only assistance that would afford a chance for our lives. I breathed a short, but most fervent prayer to Him, in whose hands are the issues of life and death, and turned back to cheer my comrades with the chance of rescue.

AND PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.

Nor shall I ever forget the expression of thankfulness and gratitude which lit up the face of poor Ask, as the whispers of hope were confirmed by the welcome advance of the whaleboat's bows through the almost submerged mangroves, just as the water had topped our shoulders; and, therefore, barely in time to confirm upon this locality its former title of Point Escape!

We now pulled down to this last-named point, and waited for the tide to fall, in order to obtain the necessary observations for determining its position: those for latitude, taken in the early part of the night, gave a result (worked on the spot) of 17 degrees 24 1/2 minutes South; being an increase in latitude of 35 miles from the present position of the Beagle.

Having now but two days' provisions remaining, I determined on completing the survey of the western shore, south of Valentine Island, and then to return and report our discovery, knowing that Captain Wickham would do all in his power to prosecute it to the utmost.

RETURN TO THE SHIP.

March 3.

These plans were accordingly carried into effect, and we returned to the ship on the morning of the 3rd of March. We found all well on board, with the exception of poor Mr. Usborne, whom we were delighted to see so far recovered. One sentiment of satisfaction pervaded the whole ship's company, when informed of our success; and, as I had anticipated, Captain Wickham at once determined upon further exploring our new discovery in lighter boats, first placing the ship as near the mouth of it as practicable. During the squall, on the first night of our absence, the ship parted her cable, and was nearly on the rocks.

Our sportsmen had been actively and successfully employed during our absence, having shot a great number of quail; they had seen two emus, and Messrs. Bynoe and Dring had obtained several specimens of rare birds, all of which are now figured by Mr. Gould in his Birds of Australia. A few natives had also been seen, but they were too wary to permit any intercourse with them.

March 4.

This was Sunday, and no imperative necessity hindered our making it a day of rest. Various necessary observations occupied the greater part of Monday; and, on the day following, the ship was moved, under my guidance, to an anchorage, in 5 fathoms (low-water) 2 1/2 miles west from Point Torment.

CHAPTER 1.7. THE FITZROY RIVER TO PORT GEORGE THE FOURTH, AND RETURN TO SWAN RIVER.

Examination of the Fitzroy River. Excursion into the interior. Alarm of the Natives. Ascent of the River. Sufferings from Mosquitoes. Red Sandstone. Natives again surprised. Appearance of the Country. Impediments in the River. Return of the boats. An Alligator. Stokes' Bay. Narrow escape of an Officer. Change of Landscape. Pheasant-Cuckoos. A new Vine. Compass Hill. Port Usborne. Explore the eastern shore of King's Sound. Cone Bay. Native Fires. Whirlpool Channel. Group of Islands. Sterile aspect of the Coast. Visited by a Native. Bathurst Island. Native Hut and Raft. Return to Port Usborne. Native Spears. Cascade Bay. Result of Explorations in King's Sound. Interview with Natives. Coral Reefs. Discover Beagle Bank. Arrival at Port George the Fourth. Examination of Collier Bay in the boats. Brecknock Harbour. The Slate Islands. Freshwater Cove. An Eagle shot. Its singular nest. Rock Kangaroos. A Conflagration. Sandstone Ridges. Doubtful Bay. Mouth of the Glenelg. Remarkable Tree. Fertile Country near Brecknock Harbour. Return to the Ship. Meet with Lieutenant Grey. His sufferings and discoveries. Visit the Encampment. Timor Ponies. Embarkation of Lieutenant Grey's Party. Sail from Port George the Fourth. Remarks on position of Tryal Rock. Anecdotes of Miago. Arrival at Swan River. Directions for entering Owen's Anchorage.

March 7, 1838.

We spent the morning in making the necessary preparations, and in the afternoon started to resume our examination of Fitzroy River. Captain Wickham and Lieutenant Eden in the gig, and myself, accompanied by Mr. Tarrant, in one of the whaleboats; we reached the mangrove isles at sunset, and spent the night between them and the eastern shore. On the 8th the tide suited us but badly, and we were only able to proceed about four miles beyond Escape Point, where we secured the boats in a creek out of the influence of the tide. We found much less water off Escape Point than on our former visit.

EXCURSION INTO THE INTERIOR.

In the evening we made an excursion into the interior. It was one vast unbroken level, covered with a strong and wiry grass, intersected with numerous watercourses, which the tide filled at high-water, there were also indications of more important, but less regular, visits from the sea. Here and there a solitary tree assisted us in estimating the distance we had walked. We saw two emus in this plain, which appeared also a favourite resort of quail and a bronze-winged pigeon. We could not get within shot of the wary emus, but the quail and pigeons afforded us good sport, notwithstanding the ceaseless attacks of the mosquitoes, which swarmed in the long grass, and defied anything less impenetrable than Mackintosh leggings, encumbrances not desirable for a pedestrian with the thermometer at 87 degrees, particularly when worn over a pair of Flushing trousers. Thus defended, I could, in some degree, defy these tormenting assailants, and at night, under the additional security afforded by a large painted coat, contrived to secure two or three hours of unbroken rest—a luxury few of my companions enjoyed.

It was with much disappointment that we found the channel occupied, at low-water, by a mere rivulet, draining the extensive mud flats then left uncovered. Hope, however, though somewhat sobered, was not altogether destroyed by this malapropos discovery, and we still looked forward with an interest but little abated, to the results of a complete survey of our new discovery.

March 9.

We moved on when the tide served, keeping close to the eastern bank of the river, where there appeared at low-water, the largest stream, then barely two feet deep. Following the sinuosity of the shore, our general direction was south, and after we had thus proceeded two miles, we found the width of the river suddenly contract from three miles to one. The banks were low and covered with a coarse grass.

NATIVES.

Here we saw three natives, stretching their long spare bodies over the bank, watching the leading boat with the fixed gaze of apparent terror and anxiety. Sso rivetted was their attention, that they allowed my boat to approach unnoticed within a very short distance of them; but when they suddenly caught sight of it, they gave a yell of mingled astonishment and alarm, and flinging themselves back into the long grass, were almost instantly out of sight. They were evidently greatly alarmed, and as Miago, whose presence might have given them confidence, was not with us, it seemed hopeless to attempt any communication with them, much as we should have liked to convince them, that these strange white creatures were of a race of beings formed like themselves, though even of our existence they could have had no previous idea.

EXPLORATION OF THE RIVER.

Six miles from our last night's bivouac, still keeping our southerly direction, brought us to some low, grassy islets, extending almost across the river, and leaving only confined and shallow channels; through one of which we had, at half tide, some difficulty in finding a passage for the boats. The river now widened out a little, and we found the deep water near the western bank, the appearance of the country remaining unaltered. We landed to pass the night at a rocky point on the east side of the river, one mile south from the most western islet of the chain just described as almost preventing our ascent. The depth of the river at this point was about twelve feet at low-water; and its breadth some four or five hundred yards. We found the water fresh at all times of tide, which here rose only eight feet; being ten feet less than its greatest rise eight miles nearer the mouth, where the time of high-water at the full and change of the moon occurs at 4 hours 10 minutes P.M.

This was the first rock formation we had noticed since leaving Point Torment, a distance of nearly thirty miles; it was a very fine-grained red sandstone, darkened and rendered heavy by the presence of ferruginous particles. The appearance of the country now began to improve, the eastern bank was thickly wooded, and a mile higher up, the western appeared clothed in verdure. I noticed here the same kind of tree, seen for the first time behind our last night's bivouac; it was small and shrubby-looking, with a rough bark, not unlike that of the common elm, and its little pointed leaf, of a deep, dark green, contrasted with the evergreen Eucalypti by which it was surrounded, reminded me of the various tints that give the charm of constant variety to our English woods, and lend to each succeeding season a distinctive and characteristic beauty.*

(*Footnote. The diameter of the largest tree of this kind was only eight inches: it was exceedingly hard, and of a very dark red colour, except a white rim about an inch in thickness. This wood worked and looked the best, in a table I had made out of various specimens of woods collected on the North-west coast of Australia.)

SUFFERINGS FROM MOSQUITOES.

I must be pardoned for again alluding to our old enemies the mosquitoes, but the reception they gave us this night is too deeply engraven on my memory to be ever quite forgotten.

NIGHT OF TORMENT.

They swarmed around us, and by the light of the fire, the blanket bags in which the men sought to protect themselves, seemed literally black with their crawling and stinging persecutors. Woe to the unhappy wretch who had left unclosed the least hole in his bag; the persevering mosquitoes surely found it out, and as surely drove the luckless occupant out of his retreat. I noticed one man dressed as if in the frozen north, hold his bag over the fire till it was quite full of smoke, and then get into it, a companion securing the mouth over his head at the apparent risk of suffocation; he obtained three hours of what he gratefully termed comfortable sleep, but when he emerged from his shelter, where he had been stewed up with the thermometer at 87 degrees, his appearance may be easily imagined.

Our hands were in constant requisition to keep the tormentors from the face and ears, which often received a hearty whack, aimed in the fruitless irritation of the moment at our assailants, and which sometimes ended in adding headache to the list of annoyances. Strike as you please, the ceaseless humming of the invincible mosquito close to your ear seems to mock his unhappy victim!

One poor fellow, whose patience was quite exhausted, fairly jumped into the river to escape further persecution.

We had the wind from South-West to South-East during the afternoon, but at 6 P.M. it veered round to North-North-West.

While getting the observations for time and latitude, some of us were compelled to remain quiet, an opportunity our tiny assailants instantly availed themselves of, covering our faces and hands. To listen quietly to their hum, and feel their long stings darting into your flesh, might put the patience of Job himself to a severe trial.

ASCENT OF THE FITZROY.

March 10.

After such a night of torment, we hailed the morning with delight; and having partaken of an early breakfast, proceeded on our interesting discovery. The first reach took us more than a mile, in a South-West by West direction, the width of it being towards the latter end nearly a quarter of a mile; the deepest water (from seven to eight feet) was on the west side, and a dry flat of sand fronted the other for some distance. The course of the river now changed, first to South-East then round to West-North-West enclosing a mile of ground. We had great difficulty, owing to the water being very shoal, in getting our boats through the next reach, which was rather more than a mile in a West by South direction. After threading our way through three more reaches, trending South-South-West—South-West, and South and from half to one mile in length, the shades of evening and fatigue attending a long and unsatisfactory day's work, warned us that it was time to seek a resting-place for the night, although we had but little hopes of obtaining any. We had made good but six miles during the day in a general South-West by West direction. Our progress being delayed by the difficulty we had in getting the boats over the shallows, and by a current running at the rate of from one to two miles an hour.

The depth of the river varied during the day from one to fourteen feet, and its width from three to five hundred yards. In the deep reaches were the wrecks of large trees, rearing their decayed heads, in evidence of the resistless fury of the torrent that had torn them from their roots, during some vast inundation, traces of which still remain on the banks, many feet above the present level of the river.

The general aspect of the country had improved, and the eastern bank reached an elevation of 20 feet; it was covered with long, green grass, and thickly wooded with a luxuriant growth of the white eucalyptus, while the almost total absence of every appearance of animal life, impressed an air of solemn tranquillity upon the whole scene. Perhaps it was from there being little to admire in the surrounding scenery that we were so much struck with the beauty of the western sky, as its gilded clouds marked the departure of the great ruler of the day. It was scarcely possible to behold a more splendid sunset; but with us, after another sleepless night, his rise, as he tinged the eastern sky, was hailed with even greater delight.

March 11.

At daylight I climbed the highest tree I could find on the eastern bank of the river, in order to get a peep at the surrounding country. The prospect, however, was but limited. The landscape presented to my view, was an almost uninterrupted level; open woodlands, with here and there a few grassy spots, were its prevailing features. I could see nothing of the river itself beyond the reach in which the boats were lying; its upper extremity bore South by West and was about half a mile from our halting place. I made a discovery in climbing this tree, which I hoped to make available in our farther ascent of the Fitzroy, should we be so fortunate as to accomplish its further exploration, or in any similar circumstances during our examination of these untrodden wilds. It was this, and I mention it, as the hint may be useful to others: I found our enemies the mosquitoes did not resort to the higher portions of the tree, and that by climbing some thirty feet from the ground, a night's repose, or at least a night undisturbed by their attacks might be obtained.

Hastening back to the boats, we pushed on, but were some time getting to the end of the reach, the shallowness of the water rendering our advance difficult and tedious; entering at length the next, which trended South-West for about half a mile, the river gradually widened out until it attained a breadth of about half that space. An extensive flat of sand fronted the eastern bank, which was very low, and though now dry, bore undoubted marks of being not unfrequently visited by floods. The western bank of the next reach was low and broken, evidently forming a group of low grassy islands when the river is in a higher state.

Some yellow sandstone cliffs, from ten to sixteen feet in height, formed the opposite bank of this reach, which extended barely a quarter of a mile, in from a South by East to a South by West direction; and varied in width from one to two hundred yards. We now entered a lake-like reach of the river, trending south for a mile and a quarter, having a breadth of about a hundred yards, and a depth in many places of twelve feet; being twice that which we had usually found in any of the lower reaches, with scarcely any stream. Soon after entering this remarkable sheet of water, we noticed a rock formation in its western banks; this we found to be a coarse-grained red sandstone, with fragments of quartz, and extended for nearly a quarter of a mile along the edge of the water. Over many parts of it was a coating of a dark and metallic appearance, about three inches thick; and the surface in places presented a glazed or smelted appearance. Mr. Darwin, in his work upon volcanic islands, page 143, alludes to this formation, under the head of "Superficial ferruginous beds," and thus concludes his observations: "The origin of these superficial beds, though sufficiently obscure, seems to be due to alluvial action on detritus abounding with iron."

As we proceeded along this canal, for such was the appearance of the reach we were now ascending, we surprised a small party of natives. They were at the water's edge, beneath a high mound of loose white sand, over which the children were some time in making their escape, struggling and screaming with anxiety and fear, as they half buried themselves beneath its treacherous surface; and sometimes, after almost gaining the summit, sliding back again to the base. All parental care seemed for the moment lost in the overwhelming sense of present danger, caused by the strange and unknown spectacle thus suddenly presented to the gaze of these poor savages. Our white faces, curious garments, moving boats, the regular motions and unaccustomed sounds of our heavy oars, must indeed have filled them with amazement. I have since frequently remarked, that our oars created more wonder, or alarm, among the various tribes who first learnt through us the existence of their white brethren, than almost any other instrument of which they could at all understand the use; perhaps, as they propel their frail rafts with a spear, they jumped to the conclusion, that our oars were also immense spears, which, being their chief weapons, must have given us a formidable appearance. We noticed, among the trees on the banks of this natural canal, two varieties of the palm; both kinds had been observed by Mr. Brown in the Gulf of Carpentaria, during Captain Flinders' voyage.

At the end of this reach, which extended for a mile and a half in a South-East by South direction, the river was scarcely 50 yards wide, and the depth had decreased from 12 to 6 feet; the current, scarcely perceptible in the deep water, now ran with a velocity of from one to two miles per hour. Here, therefore, the Fitzroy may be said to assume all the more distinctive features of an Australian river: deep reaches, connected by shallows, and probably forming, during the droughts which characterize Australia, an unlinked chain of ponds or lagoons; and in places, leaving no other indication of its former existence than the water-worn banks and deep holes, thirsty and desolate as a desert plain. At this point, the river divided into two branches, one having an East-South-East, and the other a South-South-East direction. Anxious to determine, which, as the larger, best deserved our exploration, we landed at a high grassy point on the west bank. From the top of the highest tree in the neighbourhood, I commanded an extensive view of the wide and far-spread landscape then first submitted to the scrutiny of a European. Varied and undefined are the thoughts called forth at such a moment; the past, the present, and the future, at once occupy, and almost confound the imagination. New feelings accompany new perceptions; and gazing for the first time upon a vast and unknown land, the mind, restless and active, as the roving life by which it is informed, expands for the reception of the crowding fancies, called into life as by the wand of the magician.

After yielding for a while to the influence of the scene, I was glad to perceive the greater magnitude of the southerly branch of the river, which offered the most direct line into the interior. I could trace each stream for nearly three miles, but that which trended to the east was a mere rivulet. Both flowed through a perfectly level country. Seven miles was about as far as the eye could reach over this wearisome-looking level. To the westward the country was open; the trees were small, and in clumps, with green grassy patches between; but in other directions, it was densely wooded, and on the eastern bank the trees were large. In the branches of the one I ascended, rushes, deposited by the current, were found 20 feet above the present level of the stream. This part of the country is therefore sometimes visited by heavy floods; they do not, however, seem to depend immediately upon the quantity of rain, for while the whole face of the landscape indicated large and recent supplies, the river appeared little, if at all, affected by them.

Having determined to follow the larger branch of the Fitzroy, we continued on our course, and found that beyond this point the river again widened to nearly 200 yards; but that a chain of small islets, extending from bank to bank, nearly stopped our proceeding further. This obstacle was, however, overcome after some difficulty; and still proceeding upwards another mile, we came to a narrow rapid and shallow reach, which brought us into another still and deep, about 100 yards wide, and bounded by high grassy banks. Through this we pursued our way right merrily, indulging in the golden anticipation that the Fitzroy would yet convey our boats some distance into the interior of that vast and unknown continent, with the present condition and future destiny of which our thoughts were so often busy.

IMPEDIMENTS IN THE RIVER.

Scarcely, however, had we made good another mile, when we found ourselves entangled among a cluster of small islets, and sunken trees, which almost wholly choked up the channel. The river thus pent up, ran through the small openings in this barrier with great velocity; while above, it had again assumed the deep still character which I have before had occasion to describe.

We had partly overcome this impediment, when Captain Wickham decided upon giving up the attempt, and ordered the boats to return, considering the evident risks too great to justify further perseverance. We therefore gave up the exploration of the Fitzroy, in latitude 17 degrees 44 minutes South, longitude 124 degrees 34 minutes East, having traced its course for 22 miles in a general South-South-West direction, and having penetrated 90 miles from the coastline, towards the centre of Australia, from which we were still distant 600 miles. My view from the treetop extended about four miles beyond the furthest point we had reached on the river, it had been our good fortune to add to the geography of Australia. Its banks here were 20 feet high, and covered with grass; partially broken or washed down, they disclosed to view a rich alluvial soil, nearly two feet deep.

The trees we found most common during our expedition into this portion of the new lands of Australia, consisted chiefly of two species of palm, and three of the eucalypti, stunted banksia, acacia, and the singular tree before mentioned. The birds we saw were wholly those belonging to the land, and were chiefly black and white cockatoos, and a variety of finches. We neither saw nor caught any fish, and the absence of waterfowl led us to suppose they were scarce.

RETURN OF THE BOATS.

All the excitement and interest we had enjoyed in exploring the Fitzroy thus far, now left us, and our return was comparatively tedious and monotonous work.

March 12.

We, however, managed to reach our last night's bivouac by dark; and towards the close of the next day we got as far down as the outer grassy islet in the entrance of the river. The night was stormy, but the wind and rain together kept away the mosquitoes, and enabled us to obtain a little most welcome rest. This change in the weather was sudden. Hitherto we had been singularly fortunate, each succeeding night, and returning morn being, in cleanness and beauty, only a repetition of its predecessor.

March 13.

The morning was again fine, and the bright sky was not disfigured by the least trace of the dark clouds that had so lately overspread it. The tide fortunately favoured our making an early start. On passing Escape Point, so named, as the reader may recollect, in grateful remembrance of the providential escape a small party of us experienced there, we saw an alligator slide his unwieldy carcass from the soft mud-bank, upon which he had been lazily reclining, into one of the creeks we had so much difficulty in crossing. We could not but feel grateful that even the existence of these monster reptiles in this river was then unknown to us, as the bare thought of a visit from one of them would have added to the unpleasantness of our position, while the actual presence of so wholesale a gastronomer would perhaps have given another and less auspicious name to Escape Point.

A creek, ten miles from Point Torment, afforded us shelter for the night, which was again wet and squally.

March 14.

At daybreak the blue vault above was still disfigured by dark inky blotches of clouds. We reached the ship before breakfast, and found that Mr. Helpman and Mr. Keys had ascertained that the opening on the north-east side of Point Torment was a great bay, extending ten miles in a south-easterly direction, with a width of the same distance: its shores throughout were fringed with mangroves, through which the tide found its way, inundating many miles of the interior at high-water.

STOKES'S BAY.

In the north and south corners of the depths of this bay they found an inlet, each being about three miles deep; narrow, sandy ridges, almost dry at low-water, trending to the North-West, and separated by channels from three to four fathoms, occupied the greater portion of this extensive bay, which Captain Wickham, out of compliment, named after myself.

Point Torment afforded a very fair field for the exertions of our collectors in Natural History. Without wishing to bore my readers with another long mosquito story, I think the following may be interesting.

AN OFFICER ENTANGLED IN MANGROVES.

One of the officers on a shooting excursion lost his way and got entangled in a mangrove forest, where the ground being a soft mud, travelling became very laborious, particularly in a temperature of 85 degrees and without water; fatigue hastened by thirst, at length quite knocked up my shipmate, who threw himself exhausted on the ground. In vain did he seek for a little rest, for no sooner was he quiet than swarms of mosquitoes assailed him, and forced him again on his legs; unwelcome as these tormenting visitors generally are, they were probably in this case the means of saving my friend's life, as goaded on by their unceasing attacks, to exertions otherwise out of the question, he eventually reached assistance, and was brought on board in a most helpless condition.

The tide here was two hours later than at Foul Point: the greatest rise noticed in the ship was thirty feet, which was seven feet less than we had found it in the yawl.

We had several heavy squalls from eastward this afternoon, and during the early part of the night, with rain and thunder.

March 15.

The morning broke dull and gloomy, with a light breeze from the eastward. There were altogether evident symptoms of a decided and immediate change in the weather. The survey of the south-eastern portion of the sound being now complete, the ship was taken over to the high rocky land lying north 20 miles from Point Torment. We crossed the flat extending four miles North-West from that point, in from two to three fathoms at low-water; the soundings afterwards varied from nine to eleven fathoms with a soft, muddy sand bottom. We anchored in seven fathoms low-water, one mile and a half South-South-West from the southern of two small rocky islets, lying 16 miles north from Point Torment and three from the rocky shore behind them; a sandbank, dry at low-water, extended from these islets to within half a mile of the ship.

CHANGE OF LANDSCAPE.

Our eyes were now relieved by a pleasing change of landscape; the land had wholly changed in character from that of which we had seen so much and grown so weary. It no longer stretched away in an illimitable and boundless plain, but rising abruptly from the water's edge, attained an elevation of 700 feet. The highest part of this range (afterwards named Compass Hill) bore North by West distant four and a quarter miles. We were all of course exceedingly anxious to visit this new land; but the weather, strange to say, put our patience to a trial of four days, during which it equalled in severity any we had experienced under Swan Point. It commenced with dark masses of clouds rising in the east, which were soon followed by a fresh breeze from the South-East with heavy rain, gradually freshening as it came round to the westward, blowing hardest between West-South-West and West-North-West. The barometer being out of order we were unable to observe how this unusual change would have affected that instrument; the thermometer, however, fell to 76 degrees, an alteration of temperature which, combined with the dampness of the atmosphere, exposed us to the novel sensation of cold. We noticed the time of high-water was about fifteen minutes earlier than at Point Torment, the flood-stream setting East-South-East and the ebb west. The former at a rate of two miles, and the latter one mile per hour.

March 21.

At length the wished for change arrived, and we again beheld this morning the deep pure blue of a southern sky. We were all eager to commence our exploration, and Mr. Usborne, ever anxious to be actively employed, was so far recovered that he induced the surgeon, though reluctantly, to allow him to again share in the duties of the survey. He was accordingly despatched to look for a berth for the ship further to the North-West, while Captain Wickham and myself went towards Compass Hill. We were accompanied by Mr. Bynoe, who, during our excursion, was fortunate enough to add several rare birds to his collection.

EXPLORATION OF THE BAY.

We landed in a small sandy bay at the western end of a growth of mangroves, fringing the shore behind the islands. The sandbank fronting them we found to extend to the bay we landed in; to the westward of it there was deep water close to the shore. Wood and water might easily be obtained in this bay, a circumstance that may give it value in the eyes of future navigators, as it did in ours.

Before ascending the hill we crossed a flat clothed with rich grass, out of which we flushed several Pheasant-cuckoos.* We found one of their nests on the ground containing four eggs, in size and colour they resembled the domestic pigeon. The nimble manner in which these birds hop along the branches of trees, with their long tails whisking behind, give them, at the first glance, more the appearance of monkeys than birds.

(*Footnote. Centropus Phasianellus.)

A NEW VINE.

We found here the gouty-stem tree of large size, bearing fruit; and also a vine, which, from all the information I have since been able to collect, appears to be quite a new specimen;* it bore a small but well-tasted black berry, similar in shape and general appearance to the grape sometimes seen climbing over the cottage doors in England. Each fruit contained three large seeds, in shape and size resembling the coffee berry. It was growing in a light sandy soil, and the temperature to which it was exposed varies from 76 to 110 degrees. It is a matter of great regret that I was not able to introduce this new species of vine into England; the seeds and specimens of it having been unfortunately destroyed by mice and insects. I was, however, more fortunate at Sydney and Swan River.

(*Footnote. From the description I gave of this vine to Sir W. Hooker he thought it quite new.)

COMPASS HILL.

We at length gained the top of Compass Hill, which we found to be a slight mound on a platform of coarse sandstone formation, with fragments of quartz; the sandstone was tinged with red, and appeared to be crumbling away; a straggling growth of white eucalypti covered the crest of this height, which rather spoilt the view we had promised ourselves; however, by climbing several of them, I managed to see all round.

West, six and a half miles, there was a snug cove fronted by a small island, from whence the coast appeared to take a more northerly direction. The extremes of a large sheet of water bore North by West and West by North, which we afterwards found to be connected with the above-mentioned cove. A succession of heights, similar to the one we were on, bounded our view between North and North-East. Twenty-one miles, in a South-East by East direction, were some detached, round hills, apparently the termination of the high land on which we stood; these appeared to rise out of a plain of such an extent, in a South-East and easterly direction, that I conceived it possible it may have extended to the rear of Collier Bay, which damped the interest we had previously looked forward to, in the exploration of that part of the coast, as it tended materially to weaken the probability of finding any large opening there. In crossing one of the valleys in our descent to the boats, Mr. Bynoe wounded a large kangaroo; we gave chase; but notwithstanding all our efforts, and at the expense of many a bruise, stumbling over the rugged ground, the prize, almost within our grasp, escaped, and, to add to our misfortune, one of the small compasses was found missing, the strap that suspended it having given way; from this accident the hill received its name.

PORT USBORNE.

On our return to the ship, we found Mr. Usborne had discovered good anchorage in the cove we had seen from the hill, which in commemoration of his providential recovery was called after him Port Usborne.

March 22.

It was a clear and beautiful morning, and the sun as it rose shed a glittering stream of light over the placid waters of the bay, now slightly rippled by an easterly air. All were early and busily engaged in moving the ship into Port Usborne. On our way we crossed the inner edge of a bank seen from Compass Hill, in three fathoms: Helpman's south islet bore at the time east three and a half miles; after crossing this bank, the least water we had was ten fathoms; this depth we found in passing on the eastern side of the small, low island fronting Port Usborne. A solitary overspreading tree, and a white patch on its eastern extremity renders this island conspicuous, and is of this importance, that it guides a stranger to the only safe anchorage among the islands on the eastern shore of King's Sound. As a further guide to Port Usborne it is situated at the southern extremity of all these islands, and where the coast suddenly trends away to the eastward.

We were delighted to find ourselves in an anchorage almost surrounded by land, and although the rugged sandstone ridges, with their dark, mysterious, and densely-wooded valleys, did not give the shore a very inviting appearance, still the very wildness of the scenery contrasted pleasingly in our remembrance with the monotonous level of the country about Point Torment, and on the banks of the Fitzroy. Our present position had also its practical advantages, being well adapted for carrying on the essential duties of the survey, for which service the boats were prepared in the course of the afternoon.

This snug little port we found to be three-quarters of a mile broad and one deep, and varying in depth from seven to fifteen fathoms: it faces west, the entrance points lying nearly north and south of each other, and affords an abundant supply of wood and water. We saw no traces of inhabitants; not even the curling smoke that had so often indicated their presence, greeted the eye; all was silent, and the feelings of utter loneliness were only dispelled by the mournful screams of the curlew, and occasional howl of the wild dog, as the deepening shadows of night closed in.

March 23.

The boats were manned early, and we left the ship with the best wishes of the anxious group who watched our departure, and speculated with eager anticipation upon the probable result of our enterprise.

EASTERN SHORE OF KING'S SOUND.

Mr. Usborne proceeded in one boat to examine a group of islands, lying six miles North-West from our anchorage; Mr. Tarrant and myself in the other, to explore the eastern shore of King's Sound. It was thus again our good fortune to enjoy the exciting pleasure of anticipated discovery; perchance again to wander over the face of a country, now the desert heritage of the solitary savage, but fated, we hope, to become the abode of plenty, and the land of peace.

After passing the extreme North-West point of the mainland, seen from the ship, we discovered a deep bay, which once reached, would afford safe anchorage for a fleet. Near its northern point a large stream of water fell into the sea in glittering cascades; off this a ship may anchor in twelve fathoms within a quarter of a mile; close to the west is a small sandy beach. Promising to refresh ourselves at this inviting stream, we continued our course to the northward. After passing a deep narrow channel, trending North-West by West we met the first rush of the northerly, or ebb stream, which, running at the rate of six or seven knots, swept us through a very small, dangerous opening, between some rocky islets and the main. A small bay fortunately afforded us the means of avoiding a treacherous ledge of sunken rocks, which had the boat touched, at the almost giddy rapidity we were hurried along, our destruction must have been inevitable. Landing to cook our dinners, I went to the top of the highest neighbouring hill, to obtain a round of angles: our journey was a perfect scramble, the face of the country being intersected by deep ravines, and covered with huge blocks of coarse sandstone; over these we observed several of the rock-kangaroo, bounding with their long, bushy tails swinging high in the air as if in defiance of pursuit. The view of the archipelago, from this position, fully satisfied me, that without incurring great risk, it would be impossible for a ship to thread her way through the numerous islands, independent of shoals, tide-races, and shifting winds, which form the ordinary perils of such navigation. I reckoned more than eighty islands in this portion of the archipelago alone.

CONE BAY.

After dinner we proceeded, steering North-North-East, and crossed two deep bays, the first 3 and the second 4 1/2 miles wide, both affording good anchorage, but utterly useless from the barrier of reefs and islets extending across their mouths. These bays and the ranges of hills we passed, trended East-South-East. To the second and deepest we gave the name of Cone Bay, from a singular hill of that form on its eastern shore.

The eastern entrance of a small tortuous channel afforded us a resting place for the night, having made good 17 miles in a North-North-East direction from the ship. The observations were made for latitude on the south point, and gave a result of 16 degrees 24 1/2 minutes South. It was nearly dark when we anchored, and therefore our intended attempt to gain the summit of the neighbouring heights, was necessarily postponed till this morning.

March 24.

When the first rays of the sun saw us struggling over the huge masses of rock of which they are composed. The view itself differed but little from that obtained yesterday, except that the islands are yet more numerous, the mainland more frequently indented with bays varying from two to five miles in width, and invariably trending in the same East-South-East direction. The long and narrow islands which these bays contained generally subsided to the South-South-West. I was fully occupied in sketching the surrounding objects from this station, till the tide had risen sufficient for us to pass the channel. After a late breakfast we again bore away to the North-East under a double-reefed sail, as the sky wore a threatening appearance. After clearing the channel we crossed a bay about two miles wide and four deep, thickly studded with small islands. At noon being near the north point of it, I landed in order to secure a latitude, and at the same time a round of angles. Having the flood tide against us, we had only made five miles in a North by East direction from last night's bivouac.

NATIVE FIRES.

Here for the first time since leaving the Fitzroy we saw native fires. One of them was upon an island eight or nine miles from the main, between which, however, a chain of smaller ones formed links of communication. These signs of inhabitants gave us hopes of finding some improvement from the almost utter sterility that had hitherto prevailed among these scattered islands. We had as yet seen no traces of either canoes or rafts, and therefore were not a little curious to see what mode of conveyance the natives of these parts used. We soon again moved onwards in a north by east direction, across another large bay, which, similar to the last, contained many islets. It was with great reluctance we pursued this northerly course, as I hoped ere this to have found an opening leading to the coast near Collier Bay; but the result of this day's progress fully satisfied me of the improbability of any such existing.

REMARKABLE HEADLAND.

The north point of this bay forms a most remarkable headland, rising abruptly from the water to an elevation of 400 feet. Its cliffy face presented a grey and aged appearance, which together with the strange column-shaped rocks, scattered over its level summit, gave it the appearance of an ancient turreted fortress. Here I first noticed a change in the strata; hitherto it had been invariably west-north-west, while from this point, as far as our subsequent experience enabled us to decide, it was west. I may be pardoned for noticing by way of a momentary digression that all the rocks hitherto seen on this part of the coast precisely resemble the group forming the western side of Sunday Strait; the inclination and direction of the strata are identical; while an examination of all the high rocky portions of this archipelago will satisfy the geologist that they belong to the same age of the world. The history of these coral reefs and islands, which have already attained something like a majority (if I may use the expression) may be read, at least it is apparently clearly written in the rising banks around, which are just struggling with the tide before they lift themselves forever beyond its reach. As they rise, the mangrove, the pioneer of such fertility as the sea deposits, hastens to maturity, clothing them with its mantle of never-fading green, and thus bestowing on these barren reefs the presence of vegetable life.

WHIRLPOOL CHANNEL.

Our course now lay along the western foot of the curious headland just described, a rapid tide soon hurried us past its frowning shadows into a very winding channel scarcely half a mile wide, and more than 20 fathoms deep; in this we experienced violent whirlpools, the first of which, from want of experience, handled us very roughly, suddenly wrenching the oars out of the men's hands, and whirling the boat round with alarming rapidity; after several round turns of this kind we shot out of the channel (which from the above circumstance we called Whirlpool Channel) into a bay about three miles wide, trending east; at the head of it were some snug coves, the shores of which were clothed with long rich grass and clumps of palm trees, thus realizing the hopes we had entertained of finding a more fertile country on first observing signs of inhabitants. We would fain have occupied one of these beautiful coves for the night, but as there was still two hours' daylight, we pushed on across the bay for a group of islands three miles further in a north-north-east direction. We obtained snug quarters for the night in a little sandy cove, between the largest of this small cluster of isles which we found to differ totally in shape and character from any yet seen; they trended North-North-West in narrow ridges, and were of a grey slate formation, their eastern sides formed steep precipices, while the western subsided to the water in rich grassy slopes, leaving quite a serrated ridge on their summits.

BATHURST ISLAND.

We managed to reach the most elevated part of the highest island, by crawling along its ridge on our hands and knees. From this station I recognized the islands to the North-West to be those forming the eastern shore of Sunday Strait, and from the westerly trend of some larger ones bearing North-East about eight miles, I rightly supposed them to be the same Captain King had laid down off that part of the coast, where it trends away to the eastward into Collier Bay; the largest of these I in consequence named Bathurst Island, after his vessel. We were glad to find the islands becoming less numerous, and a prospect of at last making our way to the eastward. We just finished our observations, as the sun's bright orb touched the distant horizon, and ere we reached the boat, the last vestige of day had taken its silent flight. Our present position in this network of islands, will be better described by giving it in latitude and longitude, which we found to be 16 degrees 12 minutes South and 123 degrees 32 minutes East. We had as usual a fine night with a light East-South-East breeze, which had succeeded a strong one from South-East during the day.

March 25.

Daylight found us running before a fresh breeze from the South-East in a North-North-East direction; crossing the mouths of small bays, four miles brought us to the North-West extreme of the mainland, the shores of which we followed for two miles in a East-North-East and one in an East half South direction, when we came to a small sandy bay where we landed to search in a promising ravine for water; this we had the good fortune to find almost immediately; whilst the breakers were filling, Mr. Tarrant and myself ascended a hill near, for a few angles.

APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY.

The country again presented a barren appearance, large masses of coarse sandstone lay scattered over the face of it; a wiry grass, with a few stunted gum-trees growing in the ravines, were all the vegetation this point boasted of, and from what we saw of the interior, it appeared scarcely more inviting. The sterility however which apparently prevailed over this part of Australia, could not obliterate those feelings of deep interest, which must pervade everyone, as the eye wanders for the first time over a country hitherto unknown.

VISITED BY A NATIVE.

We had just completed our surveying operations, when two of the boat's crew came to report a visit from one of the natives, and concluding others were at hand, hastened up to strengthen our party; they said their sable visitor came to them without any enticing, no offers of red or blue handkerchiefs, or some gaudy bauble that seldom fails to catch the eye of a savage—and without the slightest indication of fear. We hurried down to see this marvellously confiding native, who we found coming up the hill; he met us with all the confidence of an old acquaintance. His first act of civility, was to show Mr. Tarrant and myself an easy road to the beach; and I shall never forget as he preceded us, or rather walked by our side, yielding the path, with natural politeness, to those he seemed to regard as his guests, how wonderful was the agility he displayed in passing over the rocks; sometimes coming down the face of one almost precipitous, without the least apparent effort. When I pointed to the fresh water, he said slowly and distinctly, "Yampee, Yampee." In height he was about 5 feet 8 inches, his hair bore no symptoms of being tied up behind (a custom we always before noticed) his teeth were also perfect, and though his brow had the distinctive peculiarity of the people of this continent, his forehead was remarkably high, his perception was very quick, his utterance gentle and slow, both in articulation and by signs (not flinging his arms about in the windmill-like fashion customary with those we had before seen) his manner of conversation afforded a most pleasing contrast to that of the natives hitherto seen, and altogether I was exceedingly prepossessed in his favour. We very much regretted that we were not better provided with presents for him: particularly as it seldom happened that I was without a supply, for such occasions; in this case, however, all I could give him consisted of a few beads, and some biscuit which he devoured most readily. Nor ought the perfect confidence this man manifested, in thus trusting himself alone and unarmed, among such extraordinary strangers, to be passed over unnoticed: it commanded respect from us all. His conduct too was in the same spirit when we parted from him, though then I admit it almost as much disappointed as astonished me: when the boat left the shore, he turned to ascend the beach, and without once looking back, walked as unconcernedly and listlessly away, as though such things were to him everyday sights.

NATIVE HABITS.

This want of curiosity is a very singular and I believe an almost distinctive feature in the character of the native Australian. Among all other savages of whom I have read, or among whom I have had any opportunity of judging for myself, except the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego, a perpetual and never satisfied curiosity seems to be the leading habit of their minds: here, however, wonder is rarely expressed, curiosity seldom apparent—yet their indifference is not stupidity, or their simplicity cunning.

BATHURST ISLAND.

We had now been sufficiently long in Australia to know the value of a stream of water, and therefore always felt the necessity of particularizing the locality of any we had the good fortune to find; from this one the extremes of Bathurst Island bore North-West and North-East. We now pulled for the opening on the east side of Bathurst Island, but finding the flood-tide setting so strong through it from the northward, I found it would be a waste of time to contend with it, and therefore proceeded to a hill on the east end of Bathurst Island. A large flock of white cockatoos screamed violently, as if wishing to dispute our landing, and it was not till their numbers had been thinned, of which our evening meal felt the benefit, that we could get any peace. We reached the summit of the island by following up a ravine, which formed the only break in the cliffs that faced the South-East side of the island. There was a thick growth of red gums and the papyrus, on its sides, and near the summit we found rocks containing iron; a vein of the same vitrified matter I have described as seen at Swan Point, separated it from the prevailing rock of the island, which was composed of sandstone and fragments of quartz. The rocks containing metal had a strange appearance, being heaped together in the form of a whirlpool; the ground beneath appeared quite hollow. Our view was very commanding, and fully repaid us for the scramble up; there was a clear sea to the North-East, and bearing East-South-East were some small islands, which I afterwards found to be situated near the depth of Collier Bay. The Macleay Isles of Captain King bore North-North-East about six miles: between the latter and a group farther west, there was a clear wide channel, which appeared to lead between the island we were on and the next to the westward. As this was the first part of the coast, since leaving Port Usborne, that a sailing vessel could approach without great risk, we proceeded to examine that channel more minutely, and were sorry to find the extensive coral reefs which fronted the islands, left a space of only half a mile between; a black pointed rock ten feet above high-water, marks the edge of the western reef, where it is covered by the tide; keeping this close on the starboard hand, will conduct a ship into good anchorage in 13 and 15 fathoms. The rise and fall of the tide at this place, we found to be 22 feet.

NATIVE HABITATIONS.

As we required another station on the west end of Bathurst Island, I arranged that we should pass the night in a small cove near its south-eastern extreme; here we found several native habitations of a totally different and very superior description to any we had hitherto seen in any part of Australia; they bore a marked resemblance to those I had seen on the South-East coast of Tierra del Fuego, which was so striking as to be remarked even by some of the boat's crew, who had belonged to the Beagle in her wanderings on that stormy coast.

Stout poles from 14 to 16 feet high formed the framework of these snug huts—for so indeed they deserve to be termed—these were brought together conically at the roof; a stout thatching of dried grass completely excluded both wind and rain, and seemed to bespeak the existence of a climate at times much more severe than a latitude of 16 degrees 6 minutes south, would lead one to anticipate. The remains of small fires, a well greased bark pillow, a head ornament of seabird's feathers, together with several other trifling articles, strewn upon the floors of these wigwams, proved that they had been very recently inhabited.

NATIVE RAFT.

But perhaps the most interesting discovery in this bay, was a native raft, which we found near the beach, in such a position as must have required the exertions of several men to have placed it there; being heavier than either of our boats.

In the construction of this raft, almost everything had been left to nature. It was framed of the dead trunk of a mangrove tree, with three distinct stems growing from one root, about 18 feet long, and 4 1/2 broad. The roots at one end closely entwined, as is the habit of the tree, formed a sufficient bulwark at the stem, while an elbow in the centre of the trunk, served the same purpose at the stern: a platform of small poles, well covered with dried grass, gave a sufficient flooring to this rude specimen of a raft. I could not survey it without allowing my thoughts to carry me away in pleasing reflections upon the gradual progress of human ingenuity by the advance of which, the same intellect that first contents itself with the mere floating of the single tree, at length shapes a forest into timbers and launches the floating fortress in triumph on the deep!

RETURN TO PORT USBORNE.

We were now about 40 miles in a direct line from Port Usborne, and perhaps 70 by the winding course we were obliged to follow; only two days' provisions remained, and as we were still deficient of material for the chart of this archipelago, I was reluctantly obliged to abandon the idea of attempting to reach Collier Bay. The mainland we had explored, since leaving Port Usborne, may be described as forming eight bays, varying in depth from three to eight miles, and in width from two to five; their general trend is East-South-East; many islets skirt their shores, and almost more than can be counted fill their mouths.

March 26.

With the first grey of the morning we left Bathurst Island, on our return to the southward. Whilst passing inside the cluster of isles of slate formation, we heard a "halloa," and on looking in the direction from whence it proceeded, a native was observed on a raft: the boat's course was immediately altered so as to cut him off should he attempt to escape, but to my great surprise he paddled towards us with all possible haste.

THE NATIVE YAMPEE.

He was soon alongside, and with great satisfaction we at once recognized our strange friend of yesterday, who amongst the boat's crew, went by the sobriquet of Yampee. He again made use of the word Yampee according to our orthography, and after repeating it several times, I offered him some water, which he very eagerly accepted, twice emptying a canister that had originally held 4 pounds of preserved meat; this afforded me additional proof of Yampee being the word the natives of these parts use for water. At Swan River, the native name for water is gab-by, which differs so much as to lead us to suppose the dialect of the two places is quite distinct. This supposition is also borne out by the fact, that Miago, the native of Swan River we had on board, could never understand the language spoken by his countrymen, on the western shore of King's Sound. We found our new acquaintance as yesterday, perfectly naked, the raft he was on was in every respect similar to that previously seen upon Roe's Group, with this slight exception, that between each pole several small pieces of wood were inserted so as to make the flooring of the raft almost smooth. Into the large end of the centre, and largest pole, six long pegs were driven, forming a kind of basket in which were secured his means for procuring fire; they consisted of two pieces of white flint, and some tinder rudely manufactured from the inner bark of the papyrus tree. He used in paddling a short spear, sharp at each end, and struck the water alternately on either side; in this primitive manner he contrived to make way with a rapidity that astonished us all. He had two spears on the raft, besides the one he used for paddling; one of them was about 12 feet long, also pointed at each end, though not barbed; and a small stick, similar to that used by other natives for throwing at birds, and small animals. As well as we could understand by his signs, it appeared that he had been anxiously waiting our arrival, and had pushed off from the main to intercept the boat, on our leaving Bathurst Island. We threw him a line, and he immediately comprehended our intention, and its use, by at once making fast to the raft; an instance of confident reliance upon our good intentions, which reflected much credit upon the unsuspicious openness of his own character, and which I should have exceedingly regretted by any act of ours to abuse.

PARTING WITH THE NATIVE.

Had not the distance and our scant supply of food, rendered such a step imprudent, I should have been very glad to have towed him to the ship. I really believe he would have trusted himself with us, for that or a much longer distance; but this could not be, and therefore, after endeavouring to make him understand that we should sleep some distance to the south, where there was a larger boat, alluding to the ship, we filled his basket with bread, gave him as much water as he could drink, and bidding him farewell, reluctantly cut him adrift: I shall not soon forget the sorrowful expression of his countenance, when this apparently inhospitable act was performed; it did not seem however to quench his regard for his new friends, for so long as we could see him he was hard at work paddling in our wake. I noticed that the beads given him yesterday were gone; this fact, coupled with the smokes seen during the day, satisfied me that he had friends in the neighbourhood, to whom I hoped he would report favourably of his new acquaintances; we had certainly endeavoured to obtain his goodwill. Simple-hearted, trusting savage, farewell!

NATIVE SPEARS.

The woodcut represents the difference between the spear used by the natives of this district and those of Swan River.

We soon reached Whirlpool Channel, through which the tide again hurried and whirled us with almost frightful rapidity; we were in one part of it shot down a fall of several feet, the boat's bow being fairly buried in the boiling current. Emerging from this channel the hoary face of the remarkable headland already described, burst on our view; and as it was necessary if possible to reach its summit, we landed in a small bay, near the southern extremity.

By following a winding ravine we gained the crest of this singular platform, which we found formed of a fine-grained sandstone, with some beautiful specimens of crystallised quartz on its higher parts, over which was a slight sprinkling of vegetation, consisting of a few small gumtrees and patches of coarse grass. The weather was unusually cloudy, with squalls from the North-East; towards the evening it was fine with a moderate breeze from East-South-East. As it was late when we reached the boat, we spent the night where we landed.

March 27.

We were early on the move pursuing our southerly course, the morning being rather gloomy with a fresh North-East wind, which raised a good deal of sea in the mouths of the larger bays. As the day closed we reached a cove half a mile north of Tide-Race Point, where we passed the night.

March 28.

This morning the thermometer was down to 72 degrees at daylight, which gave us the novel sensation of cold. It was late in the forenoon before the violent ripplings at Tide-Race Point had subsided sufficiently to allow of our passing it. The rate of the current at this point appeared at times scarcely less than eight knots per hour, and traversing a rocky ledge, extending to some islands, and nearly dry at low-water, rendered it almost impassable, except when nearly high tide.

CASCADE BAY.

In the afternoon we reached the cascade discovered on our way to the northward, and from which the bay within which it is received its name. We spent an hour or two luxuriating in the thorough enjoyment of a treat so rare, as this beautiful stream must be considered in North-western Australia. In the evening we continued our return to Port Usborne, by a channel leading from the bottom of Cascade Bay into the large sheet of water first seen from Compass Hill; our progress was arrested at its inner entrance by the violence with which the tide rushed through, and we were therefore obliged to pass another night in the boats.

RETURN OF THE BOATS.

March 29.

We reached the ship this morning, entering Port Usborne by a narrow rocky channel, on its North-West shore; on the precipitous sides in this passage we noticed several of the Rock Kangaroo.

We found that Mr. Usborne had returned three days before us: from his account of the islands he had visited, they appear to have the same sterile character as most of those we had seen; in other respects, his trip was void of interest, beyond that of surveying. During the absence of the boats, tidal and magnetic observations had been made, some specimens in Natural History had been collected, and all that could in any way add to the interest of the expedition, had been as well attended to as the means placed at our disposal would allow.

We closed at Port Usborne our explorations in King's Sound, the result of which enabled us to fill up the gap long existing in the charts of the North-west coast of Australia, and which had for years been the theme of much ingenious geographical speculation. The result of our labours, if it had been less brilliant than eager anticipation at the onset led us to hope for, had nevertheless been on the whole satisfactory. The river Fitzroy, although not of the magnitude that we hoped to find, was still an undoubtedly valuable acquisition to our stock of geographical knowledge, and offered a way of access into the interior, of which we had availed ourselves to the extent of 90 miles, and which subsequent explorers might yet further improve: while in many minor yet important matters, much had been done, and much seen, to more than compensate for the disappointments and annoyances inseparable from the pursuits of the adventurer.