Cape Rodney: Latitude 10 degrees 3 minutes 32 seconds South, Longitude 147 degrees 45 minutes 45 seconds East.

Cape Hood: Latitude 9 degrees 58 minutes 6 seconds South, Longitude 147 degrees 22 minutes 50 seconds East.**

(*Footnote. Voyage round the world in His Majesty's frigate Pandora, performed under the direction of Captain Edwards in the years 1790, 1791 and 1792 by Mr. G. Hamilton, late surgeon of the Pandora, page 100.)

(**Footnote. Ibid page 164. Krusenstern assumes these longitudes to be 45 minutes too far to the westward, adopting Flinders' longitude of Murray's Islands, which differs by that amount from Captain Edwards'.)

CAPTAINS BLIGH AND PORTLOCK.

In the following year, Captains Bligh and Portlock, in the Providence and Assistance, conveying breadfruit plants from Tahiti to the West Indies, saw a portion of the south-east coast of New Guinea, when on their way to pass through Torres Strait. A line of coast extending from Cape Rodney to the westward and northward about eighty miles, the latter half with a continuous line of reef running parallel with the coast, is laid down in a chart by Flinders,* as having been "seen from the Providence's masthead, August 30th 1792."

(*Footnote. Flinders' Voyage to Terra Australis Atlas Plate 13.)

ADMIRAL D'ENTRECASTEAUX.

The northern portion of the Louisiade Archipelago was yet unknown to Europeans, and for almost all the knowledge which we even now possess regarding it, we are indebted to the expedition under the command of Rear-Admiral Bruny d'Entrecasteaux, who, on June 11th, 1793, with La Recherche and L'Esperance, during his voyage in search of the unfortunate La Perouse, came in sight of Rossel Island. The hills of that island were enveloped in clouds, and the lower parts appeared to be thickly wooded with verdant interspaces. A harbour was supposed to exist in the deep bay on the north coast of Rossel Island, but access to it was found to be prevented by a line of breakers extending to the westward as far as the eye could reach. D'Entrecasteaux passed Piron's Island, which he named, as well as various others, and on St. Aignan's observed several huts, and the first inhabitants of the Louisiade whom they had seen, for, at Renard's Isles, a boat sent close in to sound, had observed no indications of natives, although smoke was afterwards seen rising from the largest of the group. At the Bonvouloir Islands, they had the first communication with the natives, who came off in a very large canoe and several others which approached near enough for one of the officers of L'Esperance to swim off to them. The natives showed much timidity and could not be induced to come on board the frigate. Some sweet-potatoes and bananas were given in return for various presents. No arms were seen among them, and these people did not appear to understand the use of iron.* The remainder of the voyage does not require further notice here, as the D'Entrecasteaux Isles of the charts belong to the north-east coast of New Guinea.

(*Footnote. Voyage de Bruny D'Entrecasteaux envoye a la recherche de la Perouse. Redige par M. de Rossel, ancien Capitaine de Vaisseau, tome 1 page 405 et seq. See also Atlas.)

In June 1793, Messrs. Bampton and Alt, in the English merchantships Hormuzeer and Chesterfield, got embayed on the south-east coast of New Guinea, and after in vain seeking a passage out to the north-east, were forced to abandon the attempt and make their way to the westward, through Torres Strait, which they were no less than seventy-three days in clearing. Among other hydrographical results, was the discovery of large portions of the land forming the north-west shores of this bay, extending from Bristow Island to the northward and eastward for a distance of 120 miles.

M. RUALT COUTANCE.

In 1804, M. Rualt Coutance, commanding the French privateer L'Adele, made several discoveries on the south-east coast of New Guinea which were recorded by Freycinet, from the manuscript journal of Coutance, in the history of Baudin's voyage.* A portion of this is unquestionably the land seen by Captain Bligh in 1792—but in addition detached portions of the shores of the great bight of the south-east coast were seen, as in the neighbourhood of Freshwater Bay and elsewhere.

(*Footnote. Voyage de decouvertes aux Terres Australes, execute sur les corvettes Le Geographe, Le Naturaliste, et la goelette La Casuarina—pendant les annees 1801 a 1804, sous le commandement du Capitaine de vaisseau N. Baudin. Redige par M. Louis Freycinet. Navigation et Geographie page 462 and Atlas plate 1.)

Mr. Bristow, the master of an English merchant vessel, visited the northern part of the Louisiade Archipelago in 1806, but added nothing of consequence to our knowledge of the group, although various islands were named anew, as if discoveries of his own. His Satisfaction Island is clearly Rossel's, and Eruption Island is St. Aignan's of D'Entrecasteaux.*

(*Footnote. See Krusenstern's Recueil de Memoires Hydrographiques etc. page 154.)

CAPTAIN DUMONT D'URVILLE.

Since Bougainville's voyage the southern shores of the Louisiade remained unvisited until the year 1840, when Captain Dumont d'Urville, with the French corvettes L'Astrolabe and La Zelee, during his last voyage round the world, determined upon attempting their exploration. On May 23rd, the expedition (coming from the eastward) rounded Adele Island and Cape Deliverance, at the distance of about twenty miles. Next morning, the thickness of the weather prevented them from clearly distinguishing the features of the land. They steered towards South-east Island, but found close approach prevented by an immense continuous reef, supposed to be part of that seen on the previous day to the southward of Rossel Island. On Conde's Peninsula, some natives and a small village were observed. In the evening a long line of islands (the Calvados group) appeared to the north, and the reef, which before had been continuous, with the exception of some small openings, now existed only as a few isolated patches. D'Urville stood off to sea for the night, and next morning passed close to some low woody islets (Montemont) enclosed by a reef stretching to the eastward, and supporting upon it many scattered islands covered with verdure. Bougainville's chart was found of very little assistance; in the evening, however, they recognised the low wooded isle which he had called Ushant. Several high rocks (Teste Isles) in sight when they stood off for the night served next morning as a connecting point.

On the 26th, a crowd of small islands, mostly inhabited, were seen at a short distance off, and in the background some high mountain summits were visible. Approaching more closely, D'Urville observed numerous channels intersecting the coast which they appeared to divide into a multitude of islands, and it seemed doubtful whether the land seen belonged to the Louisiade or to New Guinea. On the 27th, the two ships reached the Cul de sac de l'Orangerie—the appearance of the land at this place was considered to "agree perfectly with the pompous description" of Bougainville. D'Urville would willingly have searched for an anchorage here, but sickness prevented him from delaying much longer on this coast. Many canoes had been seen during the day, and one with six men at length came off, followed by some smaller ones, each carrying two or three people. The natives could not be induced to venture on board, and for a long time hesitated to receive some presents conveyed to them on a plank, in return for coconuts, a stone axe, and some shells. These natives appeared to be unarmed; by signs they invited the Frenchmen to visit them on shore. D'Urville was now anxious to determine whether, as represented by his charts,* a passage existed between this portion of the Louisiade of Bougainville, and what was then considered to be the south-east extremity of New Guinea, in the neighbourhood of Cape Rodney. Next day, however (28th) a high chain of mountains was seen to occupy the space assigned to the supposed passage. On the 29th, a barrier reef was found extending to the eastward in the direction of the coastline; they were unable to clearly identify Cape Rodney and Point Hood, of the English charts. In the evening D'Urville saw a chain of high mountains which he named Mount Astrolabe, and a well marked headland (Cape Passy) beyond which the coast appeared to trend to the northward. The expedition now shaped a course for Torres Strait, having in seven days made a running survey extending over a space of 450 miles in length, without anchoring or communicating with the inhabitants.**

(*Footnote. This matter had been discussed by the Russian Admiral Krusenstern; see Receuil de Memoires Hydrographiques pour servire d'analyse et d'explication a l'Atlas de l'Ocean Pacifique page 60. Also in his Atlas, a general chart of the Pacific Ocean, and two others of New Guinea, and the Louisiade Archipelago, published in 1824.)

(**Footnote. Voyage au Pole Sud et dans l'Oceanie sur les corvettes L'Astrolabe et la Zelee pendant les annees 1837 a 1840. Sous le commandement de M. J. Dumont D'Urville. Histoire du Voyage tome 9 pages 208 a 215. Atlas Hydrographique Plate 1.)

CAPTAIN F.P. BLACKWOOD.

During his survey of the northern and eastern entrances of Torres Strait, Captain F.P. Blackwood, in H.M.S. Fly, spent two months in 1845, upon the south-east coast of New Guinea, 140 miles of which, including that part seen by Bampton and Alt in 1793, was surveyed as completely as the time and means would permit. This country presented a great sameness of aspect; low muddy shores covered at first with mangroves, and, further back, with dense forests, were found to be intersected by numerous channels of fresh water, the mouths, there is reason to suppose, of one or more large rivers, of which this great extent of country is the delta. Great mudbanks, extending from ten to twenty miles out to sea, prevented approach except in the boats. Several of these channels were entered by the surveying parties, and one (Aird River) was ascended by Captain Blackwood to the distance of twenty miles from its mouth. Many villages were seen scattered along the coast and on the river banks. The natives, apparently closely resembling the Torres Strait Islanders, appeared to be a savage and warlike race, and refused to have any friendly intercourse with the white men, whose boats they attempted to cut off on various occasions. They seemed to be perfectly naked, and their principal weapons were observed to be bows and arrows and wooden sword-like clubs.*

(*Footnote. Narrative of the Surveying Voyage of H.M.S. Fly, commanded by Captain F.P. Blackwood, R.N. by J.B. Jukes, Naturalist to the Expedition, volume 1 page 282 etc.)

LIEUTENANT C.B. YULE.

In the following year, a further addition to the survey of the south-east coast of New Guinea was made by Lieutenant C.B. Yule, while in command of H.M. Schooners Bramble and Castlereagh. This survey was commenced at Cape Possession, and continued to the westward and northward as far as Cape Blackwood, where the Fly's work ended, a distance equal to two degrees of longitude.* Many large river mouths were observed, the fresh water on one occasion extending two or three miles out to sea. The country had ceased to present the low monotonous appearance shown to the westward, and had become more broken with wooded hills, and on the extreme east, ranges of lofty mountains were seen in the distance; one of these (Mount Yule) attains an elevation of 10,046 feet. Landing was attempted only once, on which occasion the whole party—their two boats having been capsized in the surf, and their ammunition destroyed—were set upon by a large body of natives and plundered of everything, even to their clothes, but not otherwise injured, although completely at the mercy of these savages.

(*Footnote. See Admiralty Chart Number 1914.)

In company with the Bramble we sailed from Moreton Bay for the Louisiade on May 26th. Next day it began to blow fresh, commencing at south-east and coming up to east, and on the 28th the wind had increased to a heavy gale from East-South-East to East. On the following morning the gale broke, the wind having suddenly fallen and shifted round from East to North-East and North-West by West until it became variable, and at night died away altogether. On June 3rd we picked up the south-east trade-wind in latitude 20 degrees 8 minutes South; and next day and those following until we made the land, having left the beaten track from Sydney to the outer passages leading to Torres Strait,* we hauled on a wind at night so as to avoid going over unexplored ground. No reefs, however, were seen between Moreton Bay and the Louisiade.

(*Footnote. See a very useful chart of the Coral Sea, constructed by Mr. J.O. Evans, formerly master of H.M.S. Fly.)

ARRIVE AT THE LOUISIADE ARCHIPELAGO.

On June 10th (our noon position of that day being latitude 11 degrees 38 minutes South and longitude 154 degrees 17 minutes East) at daylight, high land was seen extending from North to North-west, distant about twenty-five miles. It proved to be the largest Ile du Sud-Est of D'Urville's chart, and Rossel Island, the latter forming the eastern termination of the Louisiade Archipelago. Next day we fell in with the Bramble in the neighbourhood of Cape Deliverance of the English chart (by Laurie) her rendezvous in case of separation; we had parted company during the late gale, in which she lost her jib-boom and stern-boat.

FIND ACCESS PREVENTED BY A REEF.

The whole of June 12th was spent in working to windward to weather the eastern end of Rossel Island—Cape Deliverance of Bougainville—the barrier reef to the southward of the two large islands in sight preventing us from closely approaching the land from that quarter.

ROSSEL ISLAND.

June 13th.

Having gained a good offing, we bore up at daylight, and stood in for Rossel Island with the Bramble ahead. We passed at a distance Adele Island (so named after Coutance's ship) low and woody, situated at the eastern extreme of the barrier reef surrounding Rossel Island, at a variable distance from the land. The southern portion of this great coral reef here makes a sharp turn round the islet, and runs back ten miles to connect it with Rossel Island, where it loses the character of a barrier, becomes narrow and fringing and almost disappears for a time. Passing Cape Deliverance* and getting into smooth water on the northern side of Rossel Island, we ran along it at a distance from the shore of about two miles and a half.

(*Footnote. As the longitude of Cape Deliverance varies considerably in different charts, its determination by the three best authorities may here be given:

D'Entrecasteaux places it in longitude 154 degrees 26 minutes East of Greenwich.

D'Urville places it in longitude 154 degrees 26 minutes East of Greenwich.

Owen Stanley places it in longitude 154 degrees 20 minutes East of Greenwich.)

Rossel Island (named after one of D'Entrecasteaux' officers) is 22 miles in length from east to west, and 10 1/2 in greatest width; it is high and mountainous, and thickly wooded, with occasional large, clear, grassy patches. Towards the western end the hills become lower and more detached, but present the same features. The mountain ridges, one of which, but not the highest elevation (which was obscured by clouds) is 2,522 feet in height—form sharp narrow crests and occasional peaks, but the outline is smooth and the rock nowhere exposed, even the steepest ridges being covered with vegetation. Some of the trees appeared to be of great dimensions, others were tall and straight, branching only near the top, and many, probably Melaleuca leucodendrum—were conspicuous from the whiteness of their trunks. Large groves of cocoa-palms scattered about from the water's edge to halfway up the hills, formed a pleasing break in the sombre green of the forest scenery. The shores are either bordered with mangroves with an occasional sandy beach, or clothed with the usual jungle of the island.

As we advanced to the westward the reef gradually extended out from the island with a short space inside, and this appearance continued for several miles, until, upon the land trending away to the south-west, the line of reef left it and ran out to the westward as far as the eye could reach, in an apparently unbroken line of surf. This is Rossel Reef of the charts along which we ran for* 35 miles, sounding occasionally, but although within a mile of its edge, no bottom was got with upwards of 100 fathoms of line. From the masthead we could see the surf of the southern border of this great reef, the space between being a lagoon of apparently navigable water. At the western extremity of the reef there appeared to be a clear opening, but the day was too far advanced to admit of entering it to search for an anchorage, and the ship was hove to for the night.

(*Footnote. It extends 17 miles beyond the westernmost point of Rossel Island.)

ITS INHABITANTS.

Rossel Island, judging from the little we saw of it, appears to be well inhabited. The first natives seen were a party of five men, apparently naked, who came out upon the beach from a grove of coconut trees, and stood gazing at the unusual sight to them of two vessels passing by. Opposite a pretty creek-like harbour, the windings of which we could trace back a little way among the hills, several canoes of various sizes were seen, each with an outrigger on one side, and one of them furnished with a large mat-sail of an oblong shape, rounded at the ends. The people, of whom there were usually about six or seven in each canoe, appeared to be engaged in fishing in the shoal water. One man in a very small canoe was bailing it out with a large melon-shell so intently that he appeared to take no notice whatever of the ship which passed within a quarter of a mile of him. We saw many huts close to the beach, usually three or four together, forming small villages. They appeared to be long and low, resting on the ground, with an opening at each end, and an arched roof thatched with palm-leaves. The most picturesque situations were chosen for these hamlets in the shade of the coconut-trees, and about them we could see numbers of children, but no women were made out, and most of the men were fishing on the reef. At one place we observed what appeared to be a portion of cultivated ground; a cleared sloping bank above the shore exhibited a succession of small terraces, with a bush-like plant growing in regular rows.

June 14th.

In the morning we found ourselves so far to leeward of the opening seen last night, with a strong breeze and a considerable head sea, that the attempt to work up for it was abandoned, and we kept away to the westward to look for an anchorage.

PIRON ISLAND.

We then ran along the northern side of Piron* Island, which is five miles in length, and one and a half in breadth, of moderate elevation, and sloping gently towards each extreme. It exhibits a range of low grassy hills, with smooth rounded outline, a straggling belt of wood—often mangroves—along the shore, patches of brush here and there in the hollows, and on the hilltops, scattered along the ridge, a few solitary tall bushy trees with silvery-looking foliage. The bright green of the tall grass gave a pleasing aspect to the whole island, large tracts of which appeared like fields of unripe grain. We saw few natives, the opposite, or southern shore, being probably that chiefly inhabited. Close approach to Piron Island was prevented by a second barrier reef, which we followed to the North-North-West for several miles beyond the end of the island, anxiously looking out for an opening into the fine expanse of pale blue water seen to extend to the southward as far as the large south-east island.** At length an opening in the reef was observed, and the ship hauled off and hove to, while Lieutenant Yule examined it in one of his boats.

(*Footnote. Piron was draughtsman to D'Entrecasteaux's Expedition.)

(**Footnote. This is 41 miles long, and 10 1/2 in greatest width.)

ENTER CORAL HAVEN.

In the afternoon the Bramble having made the signal passage clear but narrow, was directed to enter, and we followed her through a fine opening 400 yards wide, and were immediately in soundings, which 111 fathoms of line had failed to procure only a short distance outside. After standing on the southward for two miles we anchored in 15 fathoms water. The name of Coral Haven was bestowed upon this new harbour. We remained here all next day, during which the natives in their canoes came off to the Bramble, and one or two of the boats away sounding, but would not venture to approach the ship.

June 16th.

The ship was moved in one and a half miles to the southward, towards the land, and anchored in ten fathoms, close to a reef covered at high-water, and about a mile distant from a small bank of dead coral and sand; the former of these was selected by Captain Stanley as the starting point of the survey, and on the latter magnetical observations were made by Lieutenant Dayman.

PIG ISLAND.

In the afternoon I took a passage in a boat sent with a party to Pig Island—the name afterwards given to that nearest us—to search for water, and endeavour to communicate with the natives. A party of eight men, fishing upon the reef surrounding a small islet, allowed us to approach within a short distance, but upon our attempting to leave the boat they became alarmed and retreated to their canoe in which they paddled off in great haste to a landing-place under a small village in sight of the ship. This consisted of three or four long barn-like huts, raised from the ground on posts. A large village was also seen on Joannet Island, situated, like the other, on the brow of a hill in a commanding position.

COMMUNICATE WITH NATIVES OF PIG ISLAND.

Five of our party landed about half a mile from where the canoe had disappeared, apparently in some creek of a mangrove swamp; while walking along the muddy shore we were met by about a dozen natives, who gradually fell back as we approached. Seeing them apparently afraid of our number and weapons—they themselves being unarmed—I left my gun behind, and, advancing alone, holding up a green branch in each hand, was allowed to come up to them.

THEIR APPEARANCE.

They were apparently in a state of great agitation, and very suspicious of our intentions. The spokesman of the party was much lighter in colour than the others, and I at first fancied he spoke some Malay dialect from the similarity in sound and intonation of his words, nor was it until I had used some of the commonest and least changeable Malay words—as those meaning fire, water, etc.—without being understood, that I was convinced of my mistake. Two others of our party were allowed to come up one by one, and some trifling articles were exchanged for various ornaments. Still they would not suffer anyone with a gun to approach, although anxious to entice us singly and unarmed to their village towards which they were gradually leading us, and where they could be reinforced by another party, whom we saw watching us on the edge of the mangroves.

But it was not considered expedient to waste more time upon the natives, so we turned back and walked along the eastern side of the island one and a half miles, with the boat in company outside. A small stream of fresh water was found, not sufficient, however, for our wants, nor was the place suitable for the approach of boats. The rock on Pig Island, where exposed at some of the points, is mica slate, soft and splintery in many places, with frequent veins of quartz. The hills,* although often running in ridges, have a rounded outline, and the soil on the smooth grassy places—comprising three-fourths of the island—is composed of disintegrated rock mixed with pieces of undecomposed quartz, any considerable accumulation of vegetable mould being probably prevented by the heavy rains. The grass is very luxuriant without being rank; it was not known to me, for, unlike most of the other plants, I had not met with it in Australia. Indeed the frequency of the coconut-palm was the only non-Malayo-Australian feature in the vegetation. As no botanist had previously visited the Louisiade, a few of the principal plants may be mentioned. These are Guilandina bonduc, Tournefortia argentea, Morinda citrifolia, Paritium tiliaceum, Casuarina equisetifolia, and Clerodendrum inerme,* among the trees and shrubs, which were often overgrown with Lygodium microphyllum, and Disemma coccinea. The only birds seen were the sacred kingfisher, the sulphur-crested cockatoo, and the Australian crow. The shells on the reef were all Australian likewise, but under some decaying logs, on the beach, I found single species of Auricula, Truncatella, Scarabus, and Melampus.

(*Footnote. The highest part of the island, measured up to the tops of the trees, is 479 feet.)

(**Footnote. These are all common to Polynesia, the Indian Archipelago, and tropical Australia.)

The men we saw today were dark copper coloured, with the exception of the spokesman, whose skin was of a light-brownish yellow hue. The hair in nearly all was frizzled out into a mop, in some instances of prodigious size; the light-coloured man, however, had his head closely shaved.* The physiognomy varied much; some had a savage, even ferocious aspect. The nose was narrower and more prominent, the mouth smaller, the lips thinner, the eyes more distant, the eyebrows less overhanging, the forehead higher, but not broader, than in the Australian, with whom I naturally compared them as the only dark savage race which I had seen much of. They used the betel, or something like it, judging from the effect in discolouring the teeth and giving a bloody appearance to the saliva; each man carried his chewing materials in a small basket, the lime, in fine powder, being contained in a neat calabash with a stopper, and a carved piece of tortoise-shell like a paper-cutter was used to convey it to the mouth.

(*Footnote. This allowed us to observe its contour, which was remarkable. The forehead was narrow and receding, appearing as if artificially flattened, thereby giving great prominence and width to the hinder part of the skull. Altogether this man appeared so different from the rest, that for some time he was supposed to belong to a different class of people, but I afterwards often observed the same configuration of head combined with dark coloured skin and diminutive stature.)

None had the artificial prominent scars on the body peculiar to the Australians, or wanted any of the front teeth, but the septum of the nose was perforated to admit an ornament of polished shell, pointed and slightly turned up at each end. The lobe of the ear was slit, the hole being either kept distended by a large plug of rolled-up leaf, apparently of the banana, or hung with thin circular earrings made of the ground down end of a cone-shell (Conus millepunctatus) one and a half inches in diameter, with a central hole and a slit leading to the edge. A piece of cloth-like substance, the dried leaf of the Pandanus or some palm was used by all as a breech cloth—it passes between the legs and is secured in front and behind to a narrow waist-band.

FIND NATIVES APPARENTLY FRIENDLY.

June 17th.

I formed one of the party in the second cutter, sent in command of Lieutenant Simpson, on a similar mission to that of yesterday. As we passed along the north side of Pig Island we saw small groups of natives upon the grassy ridges watching the boat, and, upon our closely approaching the north-west point of the island, one of them, whom we recognised as our light-coloured acquaintance of yesterday, came running down to the top of a bank inviting us by gestures to land.

Four of our party got on shore with difficulty after a long wade upon the reef, up to the waist in water, but, on ascending the bank, the red man, as we provisionally named him, retired to a small group of natives who were coming up. Following them as they gradually fell back in the direction of the village, in a short time the two foremost, Messrs. Huxley and Brierly,* the latter having laid down his rifle, were allowed to approach and parley. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Simpson and I remained behind watching the natives who quickly surrounded the two others, offering tortoise-shell, green plantains, and other things for barter, and hustling them in no very ceremonious way while intent upon sketching, and having to keep their subjects in good humour by treating them to sundry scraps of extempore melodramatic performance. Newcomers were continually making their appearance, and all the party were now suddenly observed to have furnished themselves with spears, none of which had been seen at first, and which had probably been concealed among the long grass at the spot to which they had led us. These weapons are made of polished coconut-wood, eight to ten feet long, sharp at each end, and beautifully balanced, the thickest part being two-fifths of the distance from the point; one end was usually ornamented with a narrow strip of palm leaf, fluttering in the breeze like a pennon as usually carried. One man was furnished with a two-edged carved and painted instrument like a sword. Most of these people had their face daubed over with broad streaks of charcoal down the centre and round the eyes. Occasionally variegated with white, giving them a most forbidding aspect. At length a live pig was brought down from the village, slung on a pole, and was purchased for a knife and a handkerchief. This was a masterstroke of policy, as the natives well knew that it would take two of us to bear off our prize to the boat, thus rendering our little party less formidable.

(*Footnote. A talented marine artist who accompanied us upon this and the preceding cruise, as Captain Stanley's guest.)

THEIR SUSPICIOUS CONDUCT AFTERWARDS.

The number of men had been gradually increasing until it amounted to about thirty, all with spears. They were also becoming more rude and insolent in their behaviour, and seeing this I left my post on a hillock, and joined Simpson to take part in the expected fray. The natives were now evidently bent on mischief, and we fully expected they would not much longer delay making an attack, with the advantage of a commanding position on a hillock which we must descend to return to the boat. At this crisis one of our party discovered that he had lost a pistol from his belt, and attempted to recover it by showing another and making signs evincing great anxiety to recover the lost weapon. On this there was a general movement among the natives, who began drawing back into a cluster, balancing their spears and talking to each other very earnestly. It being evident that the pistol had been stolen, and not dropped accidentally among the grass, it was also apparent that by attaching undue importance to its loss our safety might be supposed to depend upon its possession. We then slowly commenced our retreat, two in advance carrying the pig, and the remainder covering the retreat. Being the last of our party, as I slowly descended the hillock sideways, watching every motion of what we might fairly consider as the enemy, with spare caps between my teeth, and a couple of cartridges in one hand, I was in momentary expectation of receiving a spear or two, which probably would have been the case, had I stumbled or turned my back to them for a moment. As we drew back along the ridge and dipped into the first hollow a party of the natives detached themselves from the rest as if to come round upon our flank, but this fortunately was formed by a steep ascent covered with dense jungle which would have occupied them some time to get through.

REACH THE BOAT.

Arriving at the bank above the boat, the pig-carriers with their burden speedily reached the bottom, all three rolling down together. When they were well clear we followed, keeping a sharp lookout behind in case of any advantage being taken of our position. The boat had grounded upon the reef with the falling tide, but with some difficulty was got afloat, when we left the place.

After rounding the point we opened a large bay on the west side of the island where we saw the mouth of a small stream pointed out by the natives during our last interview, but, on approaching within 300 yards, it was found that boats could not get any closer in at low-water, the shore being everywhere fringed by a reef. This is the most beautiful and sheltered portion of the island, well wooded, with a sandy beach, clumps of coconut-trees, and a village of four or five huts. We landed on a small islet connected with the south-west point of Pig Island by a reef, and strolled about with our guns while the boat's crew were having their dinners. Several Megapodii were seen and one was shot—it afterwards proved to be the M. duperreyi, previously known as a native of Port Dorey on the north-west coast of New Guinea. While holding on to the reef a party of natives, apparently from Brierly Island, paddled up in a canoe, and, after some hesitation at first, came alongside calling out kelumai-kelumai, which we conjectured to be their word for iron. For a few trifling articles we obtained a spear or two, and some cooked yams, and parted good friends, after which we returned to the ship, having completed the circuit of the island without finding a practicable watering-place.

CANOES VISIT THE SHIP.

June 18th.

Five canoes came off this morning with seven or eight natives in each, but apparently not with the intention of bartering, although they remained for a short time near the Bramble; it was thought that some allusions were made by them to the pistol stolen yesterday, but this did not appear to be certain. After a while they crossed over to the ship, and from a respectful distance—as if afraid to come closer—used many violent gesticulations, talking vehemently all the while, and repeatedly pointed to the break in the reef by which we had entered Coral Haven, waving us off at the same time. Our red friend from Pig Island made himself as conspicuous as on former occasions, and none shouted more loudly or wished to attract more attention to himself. Unfortunately his eloquence was quite thrown away upon us, nor had his threatening gestures the desired effect of inducing us to leave the place and proceed to sea.

NO PASSAGE TO THE EASTWARD.

June 20th.

I returned to the ship after a short cruise in the pinnace sent away with Lieutenant Simpson to ascertain whether a passage for the ship to the eastward existed between Piron Island and South-east Island. Independently of numerous detached coral patches, the channel was found to be completely blocked up by a reef stretching across from one island to the other, beyond which, separated by an extensive tract of shoal water, a heavy surf was breaking on what is probably an outer barrier. Many snakes were seen on the surface of the water, and large shoals of skipjacks (Caranx) playing about in long extended lines occasionally presented the appearance of a breaking reef. The fish were attended by flocks of terns and noddies, the former the beautiful Sterna melanauchen.

June 21st.

Landed on the neighbouring Observation Reef, and spent some hours there searching for shells, but nearly all were Torres Strait species. The reef is margined with blocks of coral, but the centre is mostly smooth and covered with sand part of which dries at low-water; the rise and fall, ascertained by a tide-pole set up here, was only four feet.

NATIVE MODE OF FISHING.

I had a good opportunity of witnessing the mode of fishing with the seine practised by the natives of the Louisiade. One of these nets, apparently of the usual dimensions, measured 130 feet in length, with a depth of a yard only. The upper border is supported, when in the water, by numerous small thin triangular floats of light wood, and the lower margin is strung with a series of perforated shells—chiefly single valves of Arca scapha—serving as sinkers. The cordage is of a white colour, very light, and neatly laid up, the meshes are an inch wide, and the centre of the net ends in a purse-like bag. A party of eight men poled along the shallow margin of the reef in their canoe, using the seine at intervals. When a shoal of fish is seen, three men lay hold of the net and jump out into the water—it is run out into a semicircle, the men at the extremes moving onwards with one person in advance on each side splashing the water with long poles and stones to drive the fish towards the centre. The canoe now makes a sweep and comes up to the opening, when the net is closed in upon it, and hauled inboard with its contents. This mode of fishing would appear to be practised also at some of the islands of Polynesia, for similar seines are exhibited in the ethnological gallery of the British Museum from the Feejees and elsewhere. In addition to the seine, we had occasionally observed in canoes alongside the ship a small scoop-net with a very long handle, and once procured a fishing hook of singular construction. This last is represented by the right hand figure of the accompanying woodcut. It is seven inches in length, made of some hard wood, with an arm four and a half inches long, turning up at a sharp angle, and tipped with a slightly curved barb of tortoise-shell projecting horizontally inwards an inch and a half.

POISONOUS FISH.

During the afternoon one of the crew of a boat upon the reef, while incautiously handling a frog-fish (Batrachus) which he had found under a stone, received two punctures at the base of the thumb from the sharp dorsal spines partially concealed by the skin. Immediately severe pain was produced which quickly increased until it became intolerable, and the man lay down and rolled about in agony. He was taken on board the ship in a state of great weakness. The hand was considerably swollen, with the pain shooting up the arm to the axilla, but the glands there did not become affected. The pulse fell to as low as 40 beats in the minute, with a constant desire to vomit. Large doses of opium in the course of time afforded relief, but a fortnight elapsed before the man was again fit for duty.

SEARCH FOR A WATERING-PLACE.

June 23rd.

I accompanied Mr. Brown, the master, who was sent to examine and report upon a watering-place said to have been found a day or two ago on South-east Island, about four miles north from the ship. We found the coast thereabouts fringed with mangroves, a gap in which, margined by forest trees, indicated the place which we were in search of. The ebb-tide was scarcely beginning to make, yet a narrow band of shingle off the entrance of the creek had barely water enough upon it to allow the boat to cross. Beyond the bar we got into deep water, and after pulling up for 300 yards found it only brackish. Our further progress, however, was impeded by the narrowing of the creek, which besides was blocked up with dead trees and some rocks in its bed a few yards ahead of us. The fresh water being thus unattainable without much trouble, and the bar at the entrance adding to the difficulty of watering the ship there, we turned back to search elsewhere. While standing along shore to the eastward, opposite an opening in the low hills behind the coast we observed another breach in the mangroves backed by trees of a different description, and thought it worthy of examination. Tacking inshore we found a small bight, with shoal water, on a bank of mud extending right across, beyond which the entrance of a creek fringed with mangroves was discovered. Our hopes were still further raised, when, ascending about 200 yards, with a depth of two and three fathoms, the surface water was found to be quite drinkable. While passing the entrance on our return a great lizard, about five feet in length, rushed out from an adjacent swamp across a narrow strip of sandy beach and plunged into the water after receiving an ineffectual charge of small shot. The boat's crew pronounced it confidently to have been a young alligator, but, although in a very likely haunt for these animals, it was probably only a monitor.

ROUND ISLAND.

We then crossed over to Round Island, small, uninhabited, 230 feet in height, thickly covered with trees and underwood, and connected on the eastern side with the reef running across to Piron Island. The rock here is still mica slate, varying much in texture and composition, often highly ferruginous; the strata run East-South-East and West-North-West with a northerly dip of about 45 degrees.

June 24th.

In the course of the day no less than seven canoes with natives, including several women and children, came off to the ship boldly and without hesitation, as if confidence were now established. At one time we had five canoes alongside, with a brisk and noisy traffic going on. The people parted very readily with their weapons and ornaments, also coconuts in abundance, and a few yams and bananas, for strips of calico and pieces of iron hoop. Axes, however, were more prized than any other article, and the exhibition of one was certain to produce great eagerness to procure it, amidst much shouting and cries of kelumai! The purpose to which they applied the iron hoop we found was to substitute it for the pieces of a hard greenstone (nephrite) in the heads of their axes and adzes. The one figured above represents the usual form of these instruments. The V-shaped handle is a single piece of wood, and the stone, previously ground down to a fine edge, is fixed in a cleft at the end of the short arm, and firmly secured by cordage. This axe is usually carried by being hooked over the left shoulder with the handle crossing the breast diagonally.

Among our visitors today I noticed two who had large white patches on the skin, as if caused by some leprous complaint—one man had lost his nose, and in addition was affected with elephantiasis of the left foot.

NATIVES SHOW THIEVISH PROPENSITIES.

After leaving us two of the canoes paddled up to the tide pole on the neighbouring reef, and before a boat could reach them, the natives managed to secure the pigs of iron ballast with which it was moored. They communicated with two canoes, coming from the direction of Piron Island, which soon afterwards came under the stern. As one of the stolen pigs was seen partially concealed in the bow of one of the last comers the jollyboat was manned to recover it, when the canoes left in great haste with the boat in chase. As the boat approached a coconut was thrown overboard from the canoe, as if to cause delay by stopping to pick it up, but, the intended effect not being produced, the stolen ballast also was thrown out, when the boat of course returned. By Captain Stanley's orders two musket shots were fired over the canoes, while about 300 yards distant, to show that although in fancied security they were still within reach. The splash of the first bullet caused them to paddle off in great haste, and, when they again stopped, a second shot, striking the water beyond the canoes, sent them off to the shore at their utmost speed.

CANOES OF CORAL HAVEN DESCRIBED.

With a single exception, to be afterwards noticed, the canoes seen by us in Coral Haven are of the following description. The usual length is about twenty-five feet, and one of this size carries from seven to ten people. The body is formed by the hollowed-out trunk of a tree, tapering and rising at each end, short and rounded behind, but in front run out into a long beak. A stout plank on each side raises the canoe a foot, forming a gunwale secured by knees, the seam at the junction being payed over with a black pitch-like substance. This gunwale is open at the stern, the ends not being connected, but the bow is closed by a raised end-board fancifully carved and painted in front of which a crest-like wooden ornament fits into a groove running along the beak. This figurehead, called tabura, is elaborately cut into various devices, painted red and white, and decorated with white egg-shells and feathers of the cassowary and bird of paradise. The bow and stern also are more or less profusely ornamented with these shells, which besides are strung about other parts of the canoe, usually in pairs. An outrigger extends along nearly the whole length of the left or port side of the canoe. In its construction there are employed from six to eight poles, two inches in diameter, which rest against one side of the body of the canoe and are secured there, then passing out through the opposite side about five feet, inclining slightly upwards at the same time, are connected at the ends by lashing to a long stout pole completing the strong framework required for the support of the float. This last is a long and narrow log of a soft and very light wood (probably a cotton tree) rising a little and pointed at each end so as to offer the least possible resistance to the water. Four sticks passing diagonally downwards from each of the transverse poles are sunk into the float and firmly secure it. A strip of the inner portion of the outrigger frame is converted into a platform by long sticks laid lengthways close to each other—here the sails, masts, poles, spears, and other articles are laid when not in use. The paddles vary slightly in form but are usually about four feet in length, with a slender handle and a pointed lance-shaped blade. The number of men able to use the paddles is regulated in each canoe by that of supporting outrigger poles, the end of each of which, in conjunction with one of the knees supporting the gunwale, serves as a seat. One sitter at each end, being clear of the outrigger, is able to use his paddle on either side as requisite in steering, but the others paddle on the right or starboard side only. The man seated at the stern closes with his body the opening between the ends of the raised gunwale and thus keeps out the spray or wash of the sea. Still they require to bail frequently, using for this purpose the large shell of the Melo ethiopica. In calms and light airs these canoes of Coral Haven may be overtaken without difficulty by a fast-pulling ship's boat, but on going to windward with a moderate breeze and a little head-sea they appeared to have the advantage. The sails are from twelve to fifteen feet in length and a yard wide—made of coarse matting of the leaf of the coconut-tree stretched between two slender poles. The mast is stepped with an outward inclination into one of three or four holes in a narrow shifting board in the bottom of the canoe, and is secured near the top to a slender stick of similar length made fast to the outside part of the outrigger; a second pole is then erected stretching diagonally outwards and secured to the outer one near its centre. Against the framework thus formed the sails are stuck up on end side by side to the number of three or four, occasionally even five, and kept in their places by long sticks placed transversely, their ends as well as those of the mast being sharpened to serve as skewers which in the first instance secure the sails. While under sail either the bow or stern of the canoe may be foremost, this being regulated by the necessity of having the outrigger on the weather side, unless in a very light wind. From the sail being placed so far forward these canoes do not lay up close to the wind, but when going free considerable speed may be obtained.

CANOES OF ROSSEL ISLAND DESCRIBED.

Among the canoes which visited the ship one was of a quite different construction from the rest and resembled some of those which we had seen while passing along the northern side of Rossel Island. It contained seven men, and came from the eastward—probably from Piron Island. The body of a canoe of this class is formed like the other, or more common kind, of the hollowed out trunk of a large tree, tapering to a point and rising slightly at the ends, which, however, are alike and covered over by a close-fitting piece of wood, each end being thus converted into a hollow cone. The sides are raised by a plank two feet high and end-boards forming a kind of long box, with the seams pitched over. One side is provided with an outrigger similar to that already described, and on the other is a small stage, level with the gunwale, six feet long, planked over, and projecting four feet or thereabouts. The mast is a standing one stepped into a board in the bottom—it is lashed to a stout transverse pole, and is further supported by two fore and aft stays. The halyards reeve through a hole in a projecting arm a foot long at the masthead. But the sail forms the most curious feature in the whole affair.* It measures about fifteen feet in width by eight in depth and is made of rather fine matting stretched between two yards and rounded at the sides. The sail when not in use is rolled up and laid along the platform—when hoisted it stretches obliquely upwards across the mast, confined by the stays, with the lower and foremost corner resting on the stage and the tack secured to the foot of the mast. Both ends being alike, the mast central, and the sail large and manageable, a canoe of this description is well adapted for working to windward. Tacking is simply and expeditiously performed by letting go the tack, hauling upon the sheet, and converting one into the other. The large steering paddles are eight or nine feet long, with an oblong rounded blade of half that length.

(*Footnote. The annexed illustration represents this kind of sail—it was not however taken from the canoe in question, but on a subsequent occasion, and at another part of the Louisiade Archipelago.)

WATERING-CREEK ON SOUTH-EAST ISLAND. ITS SCENERY.

June 26th.

Yesterday afternoon the Rattlesnake was removed to the neighbourhood of the proposed watering-place on South-east Island, and anchored in seventeen fathoms, mud, a mile off shore. Soon after daylight I accompanied Captain Stanley and a party in two boats to ascend the neighbouring creek and determine whether a practicable watering-place existed there. For several hundred yards above the entrance we found the channel preserving a nearly uniform width of about fifteen yards, with low muddy shores covered with mangroves, some of which attained the unusual dimensions of 60 to 80 feet in height, with a circumference at the base of 6 to 8 feet.

DESCRIPTION OF COUNTRY.

To this succeeded during our upward progress a low bank of red clay backed by rising ground and tangled brush, with very large trees at intervals, and others arching over the stream, their branches nearly touching the water. Gigantic climbers hung down in long festoons passing from branch to branch, and the more aged trunks supported clumps of ferns and parasitical plants. Here and there an areca palm shot up its slender stem surmounted by a cluster of pale-green feathery leaves, or the attention was arrested for a moment by a magnificent pandanus—its trunk raised high above the ground by the enormous supporting root-like shoots—or some graceful tree-fern with dark widely-spreading foliage exceeding in delicacy the finest lace.

Meanwhile the creek had slightly narrowed, the dead trees in the water became more frequent and troublesome, and the thickets on the banks encroached more and more upon the channel so as not to allow room for the oars to pass, obliging the men to use them as poles. At every turn in the windings of the stream (still too brackish to be fit to drink) some beautiful glimpse of jungle scenery presented itself as we passed upwards—long vistas and stray bursts of sunshine alternating with the gloomy shadows of the surrounding woods. A deep silence pervaded the banks of this water never before visited by civilised man. Its monotony broken only by the occasional brief word of command, the splash of the oars, or the shrill notes of some passing flights of parrots. The river, for now it might fairly be called one, retained the same character until we had gone up about a mile, when further progress was stopped by a ridge of rocks stretching across from side to side marking the limits of the tidal influence. Over this the rush of fresh water formed a strong rapid backed by a deep, sluggish, winding stream, draining a large basin-like valley bounded behind by the central ridge of the island, the principal hills of which attain an elevation of from 992 to 1,421 feet, and one, Mount Rattlesnake, is 2,689 feet in height. At times the body of water discharged here must be immense, judging from the quantity of driftwood and other detritus lodged in the trees twelve feet above the present level of the stream, probably during the inundations of the rainy season. These floods must also spread over the low land on the margin of the river to a considerable distance, the deep red clay there, evidently the washings of the hills, bearing the marks of having been under water. The jungle in places is very dense, but, with the exercise of a little patience and labour, it can be penetrated at almost every point. On rising ground it is often bordered by a thicket of creeping and climbing plants mixed up with bushes and patches of Hellenia coerulea. The low wooded hills are covered with tall grass growing on very poor soil—of partially decomposed mica-slate with lumps of quartz.

It being considered practicable to water the ship at this place, we returned on board. In the afternoon the first load of water was brought off, and in the course of the week we procured 78 tons with less trouble than had been anticipated. I afterwards repeatedly visited the watering-creek, and a brief account of the productions of its neighbourhood may here be given as a popular contribution to the natural history of the little-known Louisiade Archipelago.

The rock is scarcely ever exposed on the banks of the river except at the rapid before alluded to. Though still mica-slate, it is there of much greater hardness and denser texture than on Pig and Round Islands, and stretches across the stream like a dyke, running nearly north and south with a westerly dip of about 60 degrees. Elsewhere, along the shores of Coral Haven, this mica-slate is of a leaden hue and glistening lustre, yielding to the nail, with a slight greasy feel, especially in some pieces of a shining ash-grey, acted upon by salt-water. From hand specimens alone it is difficult to assign a name to this rock, as it partakes more or less of the characters of mica, chlorite, and talc-schists.

PLANTS.

Among the botanical productions Nepenthes destillatoria, the famous pitcher-plant of the East, deserves mention. It grows abundantly among the tall grass on the skirts of the jungle, and the pitchers invariably contained a small quantity of limpid fluid of a slightly sweetish taste, with small insects floating on its surface. The finest of the tree-ferns (Hemitelium) grew alone near the watering-place, and was cut down to furnish specimens. The trunk measured fifteen feet in height, with a diameter at the base of eight inches.

ANIMALS.

No mammalia were procured on South-east Island—indeed the only one seen was a flying-squirrel which I caught a glimpse of one evening at the river-mouth as it sprung off among the mangroves from the summit of a dead tree—it appeared to be of the size of an ordinary rat, and was probably a Petaurus. Wild pigs must be very numerous—as indicated by fresh marks where they had been wallowing in the beds of the ditch-like rivulets, their footprints everywhere, and well-beaten tracks through the jungle. But none of the animals themselves, probably from their extreme shyness and partially nocturnal habits, were ever encountered by our shooting parties. I was afterwards informed by Mr. Inskip that while in the Bramble, in the neighbourhood of Conde Peninsula, a native in a canoe alongside having his attention directed to a very large boar's tusk which he wore as an ornament, described, by pantomimic gestures, that the animal had cost much trouble in killing it, having repeatedly charged him, and received no less than eight spear wounds before it fell.

Birds were plentiful, but owing to the difficulty of seeing them among the thick foliage, few, comparatively, were shot. The most interesting specimen procured was one of a very handsome scarlet Lory, closely allied to Lorius domicellus, a bird widely spread over the Indian Archipelago. It was usually seen in small flocks passing over the tops of the trees, uttering a loud sharp scream at intervals. Another parakeet, not so big as a sparrow, of a green colour, was sometimes seen in flocks, but we could not succeed in getting one. The Torres Strait and Nicobar pigeons, also Duperrey's Megapodius were common enough, as well as many other birds, twelve species of which are also found in Australia—a most unlooked-for occurrence.

No snakes were seen during our rambles, but small lizards occurred everywhere. A large lizard, apparently Monitor gouldii, was shot from a tree on the banks of the river.

INSECTS.

Although not troubled by mosquitoes, such of us as strolled about much in the bush were sadly tormented by sandflies—a minute two-winged insect whose bite raises a small swelling followed by much itching. On going to bed one night, I counted no less than sixty-three of these marks on my left leg from the ankle to halfway up the thigh, and the right one was equally studded with angry red pimples. Among many kinds of ants I may mention the green one, which is found chiefly on trees and bushes, of the leaves of which it makes its nest. Should one unconsciously disturb them by getting entangled among the branches in the neighbourhood of a nest, he may expect a whole swarm upon him before he can extricate himself, and is first made aware of their presence by feeling sharp stinging pains in various places, especially the neck, caused by their bites. A small firefly (a species of Lampyris) is plentiful, showing out at night like a twinkling phosphorescent spark, slowly flitting about from tree to tree or resting on the leaves wet with dew. Nor must I omit a very splendid day-flying moth (Cocytia durvillei) which is common on the skirts of the woods and thickets; several even came on board the ship at various times.

Very few fish were caught at this anchorage, but on the mudflat at the mouth of the creek, shoals of mullet and guard-fish were seen daily. In the fresh water I observed several small species of Cyprinidae rising at flies, but, not being provided with the requisite tackle, none were caught.

SHELLS.

The muddy mangrove-covered banks of the lower part of the creek furnished the collection with an Auricula and a very fine Cyrena, apparently the same as the Australian and New Guinea C. cyprinoides. Many freshwater shells were found in the neighbourhood of the watering-place—three kinds of Melania, a Mytilus, a Navicella, and five species of Neritina—but most of these have been already described as inhabitants of the Feejee Islands and other places in Polynesia, and elsewhere. One might reasonably have anticipated a rich harvest of land-shells in the damp forests of South-east Island, yet diligent search on the trunks of the trees and among the dead leaves about their roots produced only four species, all of which however are new. The finest of these is a Pupina, the giant of its race, of a glossy reddish pink colour with red mouth.

BARTER WITH NATIVES.

During our stay here the ship was daily visited by canoes from Pig Island and its vicinity, also from a village or two on South-east Island, a few miles to the eastward of our anchorage. They usually made their appearance in the morning and remained for an hour or so, bartering coconuts, yams, ornaments and weapons for iron hoop, knives, and axes. After leaving us, those coming from the eastward, as the wind was unfavourable for their return, landed at the mouth of the creek and waited for the floodtide. Our intercourse throughout was peaceful, which was fortunate for both parties, for, if inclined to be hostile, the natives might frequently have attacked our watering-boats while passing up and down the river, impeded occasionally by dead trees and shoals, with a dense forest on each side. Latterly, however, as if suspicious of our intentions or tired of our protracted stay, they fired the grass on the hill at the entrance of the creek, possibly to deter us from entering. Still we thought this might have been done without reference to us, but afterwards two or three men with spears were seen by passing boats skulking along the banks of the river on their way to the rapid, where they again set fire to the grass as if to smoke us out or prevent our return. But the grassy tracts along the tops of the low hills in the vicinity being intersected by lines and patches of brush the fire did not extend far, as had also been the case lower down, so caused us no inconvenience.

Among our numerous visitors we occasionally saw a woman or two, but none were favourable specimens of their kind. Unlike the men, whose only covering was the breech-cloth formerly described, the women wore a short petticoat of grass-like stuff, probably the pandanus leaf divided into fine shreds—worked into a narrow band which ties round the waist. They usually, when alongside the ship, held a small piece of matting over the head with one hand, either to protect them from the sun or partially to secure themselves from observation, as in their manners they were much more reserved than the men.

VARIOUS MODES OF PAINTING.

At Coral Haven we have already seen considerable variety displayed in the various styles of painting the body. Pounded charcoal mixed up with coconut oil, and lime obtained from burnt shells similarly treated, are the pigments made use of. The most common fashion of painting is with a broad streak down the forehead, and a circle round each eye. Occasionally the entire body is blackened, but often the face only—with daubs of paint on the temples, cheek, and round the mouth and one or both eyes, rendering a forbidding countenance inexpressibly hideous in our sight.

NATIVE ORNAMENTS.

The ornaments worn by these savages are very numerous, besides which they are fond of decorating the person with flowers and strong-scented plants. In what may be considered as full dress, with the face and body painted, they are often decked out with large white cowries appended to their waist, elbows and ankles, together with streamers of pandanus leaf. Among many kinds of bracelets or armlets the most common is a broad woven one of grass, fitting very tightly on the upper arm. There are others of shell—one solid, formed by grinding down a large shell (Trochus niloticus) so as to obtain a well polished transverse section, and another in two or three pieces tied together, making a round smooth ring; of the former of these five or six are sometimes worn on one arm. But the most curious bracelet, and by no means an uncommon one, is that made of a human lower jaw with one or more collar bones closing the upper side crossing from one angle to the other. Whether these are the jaws of former friends or enemies we had no means of ascertaining; no great value appeared to be attached to them; and it was observed, as a curious circumstance, that none of these jaws had the teeth discoloured by the practice of betel chewing.

We procured various sorts of necklaces—strings of shells, black seeds, and dogs' teeth. As the canine teeth alone are used in making one of the last description, the number of dogs required to complete a single necklace must be considerable. A round thin, concave piece of shell (Melo ethiopica) with a central black portion, is often worn suspended by a string round the neck, and similar ornaments, but much smaller, are attached to the hips and elbows. The long nose-stick of shell is only occasionally worn, although everyone, of either sex, has the septum of the nose pierced for its reception—an operation most likely performed during infancy, as I once saw that it had been done to a child about a year old.

Nearly all the men carried in their hair a comb projecting in front or on one side. This article is usually made of wood, but occasionally of tortoise-shell, a foot in length, thin, flat, and narrow, with about six very long, slightly diverging, needle-shaped teeth, but it admits of much variety of size and shape, and frequently has various ornaments attached to it. The spatula used by betel chewers to introduce the lime to the mouth, although often made of tortoise-shell and resembling that figured above, is more commonly made of coconut-wood, with a massive handle, deeply divided by a slit, and when struck upon the knee it is made to produce a loud clicking noise like that of castanets.



CHAPTER 1.6.

Leave Coral Haven. Brierly Island. Communication with the Natives. Description of their Huts. Bartering for Yams and Cocoa-nuts. Suspicious conduct of the Natives. They attack the Surveying Boats. Calvados Group. Further communication with the Inhabitants. Stay at Duchateau Islands. Their Productions. Proceedings there. Duperre Islands. Unable to find Anchorage. Pass out to Sea, and proceed to the Westward. Western termination of the Louisiade Archipelago. Reach the Coast of New Guinea.

July 2nd.

The Bramble having returned from an exploration to the westward with the report that there was a passage out of Coral Haven in that direction, the ship left her anchorage off the watering-place this morning, with boats ahead and on each side of her, repeating the soundings by signal; she ran along the land to the westward seven or eight miles, passed between Pig and South-east Islands, rounded the north-west end of the latter, stood between it and Joannet Island to the West-South-West for about five miles, and anchored early in the forenoon in 15 fathoms, water, under a small detached reef and dry sandbank. Several very fine red snappers were caught with hook and line soon after anchoring, and smaller fish of many kinds were caught in abundance—they were mostly species of Pentapus, Diacope, and Mesoprion.

BRIERLY ISLAND AND NATIVES.

While passing a small island—afterwards named in honour of Mr. Brierly—distant from our anchorage about two miles North-west by West, several women and dogs were seen on shore, and soon afterwards two canoes, which had followed us from the anchorage, were seen to put in there. In the afternoon two boats were sent to this island, to communicate with the natives, and search for an anchorage near it.

COMMUNICATION WITH THEM.

We landed upon a sandy beach, after wading over the fringing reef, and were met by some natives who had come round a neighbouring point from the windward or inhabited side. Although at first cautious of approach, yet in the course of a few minutes they came freely about us to the number of twenty, each carrying two or three spears—not the beautifully polished and well-balanced ones we had seen elsewhere, but merely slender, rudely-fashioned sticks sharpened at each end. About twelve women, dressed in the usual petticoat of grass-like stuff, followed at a distance, and kept close to the point for some time; but at length the natural curiosity of the sex (I suppose) overcame their fear, and although repeatedly ordered back by the men, they drew up closer and closer to have a peep at the strangers. Two of the youngest and most attractive of these ladies advanced to within twenty yards, and received with much apparent delight, and a great deal of capering and dancing about on the sand, some strips of a gaudy handkerchief conveyed to them by a lad decorated with streamers of pandanus leaf at the elbows and wrists—evidently the Adonis of the party. Some of the men had formerly been off to the ship, and one or two carried axes of the usual form, but headed with pieces of our iron hoop, neatly ground to a fine edge. A few coconuts were given us for a knife or two, and we saw their mode of climbing for them, which one man did with the agility of a monkey, ascending first by a few notches, made years ago, afterwards by clasping the trunk with his arms, arching his body with the feet against the tree, and then walking up precisely in the mode of the Torres Strait Islanders. Like these last people too, they open the nut with a sharp stick, and use a shell (a piece of mother-of-pearl oyster) for scraping out the pulp. After a stay of half an hour we returned to the boat leaving the natives in good humour. Our search for a safe anchorage for the ship was unsuccessful, so we returned on board.

July 3rd.

After the good understanding which appeared to have been established yesterday, I was rather surprised at observing the suspicious manner in which we were received today by the people on Brierly Island. In two boats we went round to a small sandy point on the northern side of the island where seven or eight canoes were hauled up on the beach, but some time elapsed before any of the natives came close up—even to a single unarmed man of our party who waded ashore—the others remaining in the boats—although tempted by the display of pieces of iron hoop and strips of calico. One of the natives, carrying a wooden sword, and apparently a leading man among them, made some signs and used gesticulations expressive of sleep or death with reference to a part of Joannet Island which he repeatedly pointed to. This we could not understand.* After a certain degree of confidence had been restored, five or six of us remained on shore, and great harmony appeared to prevail throughout the combined party. In one place the sergeant of marines was seated on the sand with a ring of people round him whom he was drilling into the mode of singing a Port Essington aboriginal song, occasionally rising to vary his lesson with a dance—in another, a group of natives were being initiated in the mysteries of the Jew's harp, or kept amused by the performance of various antics. Mr. Huxley as usual, was at work with his sketch-book, and I employed myself in procuring words for an incipient vocabulary. My principal informant was called Wadai, a little withered old man with shaved head, on which someone had stuck a red night-cap which greatly took his fancy. Not being of so volatile a nature as the others he remained patiently with me for half an hour.

(*Footnote. Although not understood at the time, he referred to an affray between two boats detached from the ship on surveying service and some Joannet Island canoes, which had occurred only a few hours before at the place indicated; of this we had not yet heard, but the news had reached Brierly Island, and occasioned our strange reception. This is a remarkable instance of the rapidity with which intelligence may be conveyed from one island to another.)

MODE OF USING THE BETEL.

He showed me the mode of using the betel, which, as practised by these people has this peculiarity, that the leaf of the siri or betel pepper is not employed, as is universally the case among the Malays. A small portion of the green betelnut (the fruit of the Areca catechu) which here curiously enough is named ereka—is broken off with the teeth and placed in the mouth; then the spatula, formerly described, moistened with saliva, is dipped into a small calabash of lime in fine powder, with which the tongue and lips are smeared over by repeated applications. The bolus is then kept in the mouth, and rolled over and over until it is thought requisite to renew it. The practice of betel chewing is not confined to the men, for the few women whom we had seen alongside the ship in Coral Haven, had their teeth blackened by it.

One of the natives seen today exhibited a remarkable case of malformation of the teeth. The lower incisors were wanting, and the upper ones had coalesced and grown downwards and outwards, forming an irregular dark protruding mass which I at first took to be a quid of betel. Another man with a diseased leg had lost one hand at the wrist, and the long shrivelled arm presented a curious appearance.

Several dogs were also seen close to, for the first time—they were wretched half-starved objects of various colours, but agreed in being long-bodied, short-legged, and prick-eared, with sharp snout and long tail, slightly bushy, but tapering to a point. They do not bark, but have the long melancholy howl of the dingo or wild dog of Australia.

THEIR VILLAGE. DESCRIPTION OF THEIR HUTS.

At length some of us found our way to the huts of the natives which were close at hand, and had thus an opportunity of examining one of them minutely, besides verifying what we had before seen only from a distance, and with the aid of the telescope. The distinctive characters of these huts consist in their being long and tunnel-like, drooping and overhanging at each end, raised from the ground upon posts, and thatched over. The four huts composing the village were placed in two adjacent clearings, fifty or sixty yards in length, screened from the beach by a belt of small trees and brushwood, behind is the usual jungle of the wooded islands of the Archipelago, with a path leading through it towards the centre of the island. A solitary hut stood perched upon the ridge near the summit shaded by cocoa-palms, and partially hid among the bushes and tall grass. It differed from those of the village in having the posts projecting through the roof, but whether used as a dwelling or not, is a matter of conjecture. It may possibly have been used for the reception of the dead. In the village an approximate measurement gave thirty feet as the length, nine the breadth, and thirteen the height in centre of one of these huts—the one figured in the accompanying plate; the annexed woodcut gives an end view of another. All four were built upon exactly the same plan. The supporting posts are four in number, and raise the floor about four and a half feet from the ground, leaving a clear space beneath. Before entering the body of the hut each post passes through an oval disc of wood, a foot and a half in diameter, the object of which is probably to prevent the ingress into the dwelling of snakes, rats, or other vermin, most likely the Mus indicus, with which all the islands to the westward are overrun. To the stout uprights are lashed transverse bars supporting three long parallel timbers running the whole length of the floor; on these seven or eight transverse poles are laid, crossed by about a dozen longitudinal and slighter ones, on which a flooring of long strips of the outer wood of the coconut-tree is laid across. After penetrating the floor, the main posts rise five feet higher, where they are connected at top by others as tie-beams, which cross them, and project a little further to sustain the two lateral of the five longitudinal supports of the roof, which, at the gable ends, are further secured by other tie-beams. On the two central cross-bars also is laid a platform running one half the length of the hut, floored on one side, forming a partial upper story, with a space of three feet between it and the ceiling. The sides and roof are formed of slender poles or rafters arching over from side to side, secured by lashings of rattan to five poles running lengthways; the whole forming a strong framework thatched over with coarse grass pulled up by the roots in large tufts, with a few cocoa-palm leaves laid over all. The lower part of the sides and upper portion of the ends under the overhanging gables are formed by strips of coarse matting. There are usually entrances at both ends, and the centre of one side, closed by a flap of matting finer than the rest. Opposite each door an inclined beam—one end of which rests on the ground, and the other leans against the fork of a short upright post—serves as a step for mounting by.

Near these huts were several large sheds, open at one side, where the cooking is performed—judging from the remains of fires under them. On two small stages, planked over, we saw a number of thin and neatly carved earthen pots, blackened with smoke; these are usually a foot in diameter, but one was as much as eighteen inches. I was struck with a feature exhibiting the cleanly habits of these savages, from whom in this respect the inhabitants of many villages in the mother country might take a lesson—it consisted in the well swept ground, where not a stray stone or leaf was suffered to remain, and the absence about the dwellings of everything offensive to the smell or sight.

FOOD OF THE NATIVES.

I could not help contrasting the condition of these people with that of the Australian blacks, a considerable portion of whose time, at certain periods of the year, is spent in shifting about from place to place, searching for food, living from hand to mouth, and leading a hard and precarious life. But here, on this little island, the coconut-tree alone would be sufficient to supply many of the principal wants of man. The fruit serves both for food and drink—the shell is used to carry about water in*—the fibres of the husk are converted into cordage, and the leaves into matting, while the wood is fashioned into spears and other useful articles. The cultivation of bananas and yams—of the latter of which, and of two other edible roots, we saw large quantities in the huts—costs him very little trouble—he occasionally keeps a few pigs, and when inclined, can always catch plenty of fish, and occasionally a turtle upon the reefs at low-water.

(*Footnote. Some of these are represented in the preceding woodcut—the hole in the top is usually plugged with a portion of banana leaf.)

Before leaving the beach I presented old Wadai with an axe, as a recompense for his civility. The poor man looked quite bewildered at his unexpected good fortune, and for a little while was quite speechless—not understanding the nature of a gift, or being taken with a sudden fit of generosity, he afterwards waded out to the boat with some coconuts to give me in return.

BARTERING FOR YAMS.

July 4th.

The first cutter was sent to Brierly Island today, for the double purpose of endeavouring to procure yams from the natives for the use of the ship's company, and enabling me to make additions to my vocabulary and collection. Mr. Brady took charge of the bartering, and drawing a number of lines upon the sandy beach, explained that when each was covered with a yam he would give an axe in return. At first some little difficulty occurred as the yams were brought down very slowly—two or three at a time—but at length the first batch was completed and the axe handed over. The man who got it—the sword-bearer of yesterday—had been trembling with anxiety for some time back, holding Mr. Brady by the arm and watching the promised axe with eager eye. When he obtained possession of it he became quite wild with joy, laughing and screaming, and flourishing the axe over his head. After this commencement the bartering went on briskly amidst a good deal of uproar, the men passing between the village and the beach at full speed, with basketfuls of yams, and too intent upon getting the kiram kelumai (iron-axes) to think of anything else. Meanwhile Mr. Huxley and myself walked about unheeded by almost anyone. The women kept themselves in the bush at a little distance, making a great noise, but avoided showing themselves. Occasionally we caught a glimpse of these sable damsels, but only one female came near us—a meagre old woman who darted past with an axe in her hand, and sprang up into one of the huts like a harlequin, showing at the same time more of her long shrivelled shanks than was strictly decorous. Besides the usual petticoat reaching to the knee, made of a grass or some leaf—perhaps of the pandanus—cut into long shreds, this dame wore a somewhat similar article round the neck, hanging over the breast and shoulders, leaving the arms free. An axe was offered to one of the men, who had previously sat for his portrait, to induce him to bring the woman to Mr. Huxley, who was anxious to get a sketch of a female, but in spite of the strong inducement we did not succeed, and any further notice taken of the woman seemed to give offence. While wandering about the place we came upon a path leading into the adjacent brush, but blocked up by some coconut leaves recently thrown across. This led past an enclosure of about three quarters of an acre, neatly and strongly fenced in, probably used as a pen for keeping pigs in, judging from the absence of anything like cultivation, and the trodden-down appearance, apparently made by these animals, a jaw-bone of one of which was picked up close by.

NATIVES GET TIRED OF US.

At length the natives appeared anxious to get rid of us, after obtaining about seventeen axes and a few knives, in return for 368 pounds of yams, which cost us little more than a halfpenny per pound. After wading out to the boat, the natives assisted in shoving her off, and when we had got well clear of the beach, they treated us to what might have been one of their dances, dividing into two parties, and with wild pantomimic gesture, advancing and retiring, and going through the motion of throwing the spear, with one or two of which each was provided.

THEIR SUSPICIOUS CONDUCT.

Even during the height of the bartering very few of the natives had laid aside their weapons, and it was evident that they were influenced by no very friendly feeling towards us, and were glad to be relieved of our presence. They had latterly become more noisy than usual, and even insolent, and I believe that had we stayed a little longer, hostilities would have commenced, as they probably regarded our forbearance to be the result of fear.

We landed on the opposite side of the island to give me an opportunity of procuring some specimens, as it was judged that our shooting there would not annoy the inhabitants. The boat remained off at anchor while some of us strolled along the beach, getting an occasional shot. Birds however were few. Among those seen were the fishing-eagle, osprey, and two smaller birds—all Australian. On the slope behind the beach we saw for the first time signs of cultivation—in a small plantation of bananas and yams. There was no fence, but the ground had been partially cleared, leaving the stumps of the smaller trees and shrubs as posts for the yam plants (a Dioscorea with broad heart-shaped leaves) to train themselves upon. After a stay of nearly an hour, we were moving down towards the boat, when the natives made their appearance round the point, coming up in straggling order. One in advance of the rest came along at a rapid pace with his spear poised, and pointed it at the nearest of our party, when within a few yards of him, with what intention I do not presume to say—but the natives were evidently in a state of great excitement. As they might erroneously have supposed that we had been making free with their coconuts and yams, some grass which had been cut for the sheep on board was taken out of the bag and shown them as being intended for our bobo (pigs)—which they appeared to understand. The one among them who had yesterday made the allusion to Joannet Island pointed to our guns, talking at the same time with great energy, and making signs as if wishing to see the use of a weapon of whose wonderful effects he had lately heard. As many swallows were flying about, I told Wilcox—probably the best shot of the party—to shoot one, which was done cleverly, and the bird fell at our feet. The indications of surprise were not so great as I expected to have seen exhibited, but after several more shots had been fired, some with ball along the water, a few of the natives began to show signs of uneasiness and sneaked away. Old Wadai, however (perhaps feeling perfectly secure under the shelter of his perfect insignificance) and one or two others sat down under a tree beside us, apparently unconcerned, and some of the rest remained on the beach until after our departure.

We did not afterwards land upon Brierly Island, so I may conclude with a short description. It is not more than half a mile in length, with a central ridge attaining the height of 347 feet, and sloping downwards at each end. It is well wooded with low trees and brushwood, and mixed up with them there is a profusion of cocoa-palms scattered about in clumps, from the margin of the beach to the shoulders of the hill; long coarse grass, at this time of a beautiful light green tint, covered the remainder. The usual fringing coral reef surrounds the island, running off to a great distance in one direction. The greater part of the shore and the projecting points are rocky (where the soft splintery mica slate has been exposed) with occasional sandy beaches. We saw no fresh water, but the declivities here and there showed deep furrows in the red clayey soil, the effects of torrents after heavy rains.

FORM VOCABULARY. LANGUAGE OF THE LOUISIADE.

Today and yesterday I obtained in all about 130 words of the language of the Brierly Island people. The small vocabulary thus formed, the first ever obtained in the Louisiade Archipelago, leads to some interesting results, and fills up one of the gaps in the chain of philological affinities which may afterwards be brought to bear upon the perplexing question—Whence has Australia been peopled? Taking the numerals as affording in the present instance the most convenient materials for hasty comparison, I find words in common—not only with those of other divisions of the Pelagian Negroes,* as the inhabitants of the north coast of New Guinea on the one hand, and New Ireland on the other, but also with the Malay and the various Polynesian languages or dialects spoken from New Zealand to Tahiti.** This latter affinity between the woolly and straight-haired sections of oceanic blacks appears to me to render it more curious and unexpected that the language of the Louisiade should completely differ from that of the northern part of Torres Strait,*** the inhabitants of both being connected by strong general similarity and occasionally identity in manners and customs, and having many physical characteristics common to both. Yet while the natives of the Louisiade use the decimal system of the Malays and Polynesians, the Torres Strait islanders have simple words to express the numerals one and two only, while three is represented by a compound.****

(*Footnote. Natural History of Man by J.C. Prichard, M.D. 2nd edition page 326.)

(**Footnote. D'Urville's Voyage de l'Astrolabe Philologie tome 2.)

(***Footnote. Jukes' Voyage of the Fly volume 2 page 274.)

(****Footnote. These remarks I give as written in my journal, with the sole exception of the term Pelagian Negroes. The reader is referred to Dr. Latham's observations on my Vocabularies in the Appendix to this work.)

ATTACK UPON THE SURVEYING BOATS.

July 6th.

Lieutenants Dayman and Simpson, with the pinnace and second galley, returned to the ship after an absence of several days. On the morning of the 4th, after having spent the night at anchor in one of the bays on the south side of Joannet Island, they were attacked by the natives under the following circumstances: In the grey of the morning the lookouts reported the approach of three canoes, with about ten men in each. On two or three persons showing themselves in the bow of the pinnace in front of the rain-awning, the natives ceased paddling, as if baulked in their design of surprising the large boat, but, after a short consultation, they came alongside in their usual noisy manner. After a stay of about five minutes only they pushed off to the galley, and some more sham bartering was attempted, but they had nothing to give in exchange for the kelumai so much coveted. In a short time the rudeness and overbearing insolence of the natives had risen to a pitch which left no doubt of their hostile intentions. The anchor was got up, when some of the blacks seized the painter, and others in trying to capsize the boat brought the gunwale down to the water's edge, at the same time grappling with the men to pull them out, and dragging the galley inshore towards the shoal water. The bowman, with the anchor in his hand, was struck on the head with a stone-headed axe, the blow was repeated, but fortunately took effect only on the wash-streak; another of the crew was struck at with a similar weapon, but warded off the blow, although held fast by one arm, when, just as the savage was making another stroke, Lieutenant Dayman, who until now had excercised the utmost forbearance, fired at him with a musket. The man did not drop although wounded in the thigh; but even this, unquestionably their first experience of firearms, did not intimidate the natives, one of whom, standing on a block of coral, threw a spear which passed across the breast of one of the boat's crew and lodged in the bend of one arm, opening the vein. They raised a loud shout when the spear was seen to take effect, and threw several others which missed. Lieutenant Simpson, who had been watching what was going on then fired from the pinnace with buckshot and struck them, when, finding that the large boat, although at anchor, could assist the smaller one, the canoes were paddled inshore in great haste and confusion. Some more musket shots were fired, and the galley went in chase endeavouring to turn the canoes, so as to bring them under the fire of the pinnace's 12-pounder howitzer, which was speedily mounted and fired. The shot either struck one of the canoes or went within a few inches of the mark, on which the natives instantly jumped overboard into the shallow water, making for the mangroves, which they succeeded in reaching, dragging their canoes with them. Two rounds of grape-shot crashing through the branches dispersed the party, but afterwards they moved two of the canoes out of sight. The remaining one was brought out after breakfast by the galley under cover of the pinnace, and was towed off to some distance. The paddles having been taken out and the spears broken and left in her, she was let go to drift down towards a village whence the attacking party were supposed to have come. Some blood in this canoe, although not the one most aimed at, showed that the firing had not been ineffective.

This act of deliberate treachery was perpetrated by persons who had always been well-treated by us, for several of the natives present were recognised as having been alongside the ship in Coral Haven. This, their first act of positive hostility, affords, I think, conclusive evidence of the savage disposition of the natives of this part of the Louisiade when excited by the hope of plunder, and shows that no confidence should ever be reposed in them unless, perhaps, in the presence of a numerically superior force, or the close vicinity of the ship. At the same time the boldness of these savages in attacking, with thirty men in three canoes, two boats known to contain at least twenty persons—even in hopes of taking them by surprise—and in not being at once driven off upon feeling the novel and deadly effects of musketry, indicates no little amount of bravery. In the course of the same day, when Lieutenant Dayman was close inshore with the galley laying down the coastline, he had occasion to approach the native village before alluded to, and observed the men following the boat along the beach within gunshot, sharpening and poising their spears, violently gesticulating and calling out loudly, as if daring him to land. A favourable opportunity was now afforded for punishing the natives for their treachery; but from highly commendable motives of humanity, no steps were taken for this purpose by Lieutenant Dayman, and they were treated with silent contempt.

July 10th.

The Bramble and two of our boats were sent to ascertain whether an easy passage to the westward existed inshore near the islands (Calvados Group) extending in that direction, while, at the same time, the ship stood to the southward and anchored in 28 fathoms, four miles inside the barrier-reef. On our way we passed numerous small coral patches, and others were afterwards found to the westward, running in irregular lines, and partially blocking up the passage inside the barrier, which it was expected would have been found clear.

CHANGEABLE WEATHER.

We remained here for five days, during which period we had much variety of weather—sometimes blowing hard from East-South-East to East-North-East with squalls and thick gloomy weather—at other times nearly a calm, the air disagreeably close and muggy, the temperature varying from 75 to 85 degrees, with occasional heavy rain.

SUCKING-FISH AND SHARK.

Small fish appeared to abound at this anchorage. I had never before seen the sucking-fish (Echeneis remora) so plentiful as at this place; they caused much annoyance to our fishermen by carrying off baits and hooks, and appeared always on the alert, darting out in a body of twenty or more from under the ship's bottom when any offal was thrown overboard. Being quite a nuisance, and useless as food, Jack often treated them as he would a shark, by spritsail-yarding, or some still less refined mode of torture. One day some of us while walking the poop had our attention directed to a sucking-fish about two and a half feet in length which had been made fast by the tail to a billet of wood by a fathom or so of spun yarn, and turned adrift. An immense striped shark, apparently about fourteen feet in length, which had been cruising about the ship all the morning, sailed slowly up, and, turning slightly on one side, attempted to seize the apparently helpless fish, but the sucker, with great dexterity, made himself fast in a moment to the shark's back—off darted the monster at full speed—the sucker holding on fast as a limpet to a rock, and the billet towing astern. He then rolled over and over, tumbling about, when, wearied with his efforts, he laid quiet for a little. Seeing the float, the shark got it into his mouth, and disengaging the sucker by the tug on the line, made a bolt at the fish; but his puny antagonist was again too quick, and fixing himself close behind the dorsal fin, defied the efforts of the shark to disengage him, although he rolled over and over, lashing the water with his tail until it foamed all around. What the final result was, we could not clearly make out.

Many water snakes were seen here, swimming about on the surface; and one of two chasing each other and playing about the ship was shot by Captain Stanley from his cabin window, and brought on board. It appeared to be of the genus Hypotrophis, and measured 37 1/2 inches in length; it had a pair of minute poison fangs on each side of the upper jaw; the colour was a dirty greenish with numerous pale narrow bands.

THE CALVADOS GROUP.

July 16th.

The pinnace having returned yesterday and reported a clear passage for the ship to the westward close inshore, we got underweigh and returned on the same line by which we had come out, anchoring for the night in 19 fathoms water, under Observation Reef 2. Next day we rounded Brierly Island from the eastward, passed between it and Joannet Island, and after running a few miles further to the westward, anchored in 30 fathoms—15 miles West-North-West from Brierly Island, and two miles from the nearest of the Calvados Group. In passing Brierly Island the place appeared to be deserted. We saw a single canoe hauled up on the beach, but no natives.