In the afternoon we steamed down a little out of our course towards the island of Timbu Mata, which is said to abound with deer and wild pig, to drop the cutter with Tab and four men from the crew in her, all armed with rifles, cutlasses, and revolvers, besides their sporting weapons. Then we proceeded on our course to Silam in Darvel Bay, 175 miles from Sandakan, where we anchored about 6 P.M. A prahu came alongside at once, manned by natives and having on board a specimen of the worst type of rough Australian gold-diggers—very tipsy, poor man, and very anxious to come on board the yacht. His efforts in this direction were, however, repulsed, and we finally induced the native crew to take him back to the shore.

Darvel Bay is a most lovely spot, and in the sunset light I thought that I had never seen anything more beautiful in the world. We went ashore as soon as possible, having, however, first to climb with extended though uncertain strides up one of the dreadful wide-runged ladders which confront us at every pier. This performance landed us on what appeared to be a very rickety kind of platform, with, as usual, a great deal of open space in the flooring. Being assured that it was quite safe if we only stepped out boldly and with confidence, we advanced as well as we could, and found the task not so difficult after all, though it must be confessed that the flooring seemed terribly springy and elastic. The two small dogs were carried, but poor 'Sir Roger' was left to follow us as best he could, meeting with many a slip and many a tumble on his way. It was too dark to see much of the town, which appeared to be clean and tidy, with several well-furnished shops in the principal streets. There is also a Government station here, and an experimental garden. The harbour is well sheltered, and although it contains a good many coral-banks, vessels drawing sixteen feet of water can anchor quite close to the settlement.



The reports of explorers in search of gold on the Segama River are satisfactory. A road is now being constructed which will render access to the gold-fields much easier than at present. It is, however, impossible for Englishmen to work the fields, and Chinese labour will most likely have to be employed. The process adopted by the natives of extracting the gold is primitive in the extreme.

We met our friend the Australian digger again, and heard that he had come down from the fields with three companions, all ill with fever, one being so bad that he had to be carried all the way. Still they were satisfied with their success, and were now celebrating it by drinking their profits away as fast as possible.

After strolling slowly up to Mr. Callaghan's comfortable bungalow, we rested a little and had tea, and then returned on board to pack up and make ready for our early start to-morrow. The steam-launch was already afloat with her boiler in her, but a good deal had yet to be done in the way of preparing the gig, fixing the awning, and stowing the stores, photographic gear, &c.

Thursday, April 14th.—It was nearly midnight before all had been arranged in readiness for our early start and possible camp-out for at least one night; and even then there was a great deal that had to be left unsettled, precise information as to roads, rivers, distances, and so forth not being easily obtainable in this partially developed country.

At 3.30 A.M. I was called, and tried to dispel my drowsiness by the pleasing consciousness that an expedition to which I had long looked forward with such deep interest was about to be undertaken, and, as we had reason to hope, through the kind exertions of Mr. Treacher and Mr. Callaghan, duly accomplished. An hour later, these two gentlemen, accompanied by Mr. Crocker, came on board; and then we started directly in a long native canoe, with a crew and escort of thirty coolies, Sulus, Dyaks, and policemen. Our destination was the famous caves of edible birds'-nests at Madai. The steam-launch, well laden with extra coal in bags, and a few spare coolies, led the way, having in tow the heavy gig, filled with provisions of all sorts, and materials for camping out. Then came the long prahu—also in tow—laden almost to the water's edge with her thirty passengers and their gear. The extent and weight of this little flotilla reduced our progress to a speed of about five knots. It was a perfect morning, and the air was quite calm except for the slight breeze which we created for ourselves as we progressed. Soon after seven o'clock the sun became unpleasantly hot, and we were glad to spread our awning. At eight we breakfasted extremely well, the necessary cooking being done over a small spirit-lamp, in the absence of kerosene or any of the mineral oils, the use of which is not allowed on board the 'Sunbeam' or any of her satellites.



A little before nine we reached the mouth of the river, and safely accomplished some intricate navigation through narrow channels between coral reefs. The mists were still lying in solid white masses in the valleys and between the mountain peaks; but the small densely wooded islets that dotted the bay were mirrored in its unruffled surface. The scene was altogether most picturesque, and reminded me a good deal of the splendid harbour of Rio; but without, of course, the Corcovado or Sugar-loaf Hill, or those curiously shaped Organ Mountains in the background. Once in the river, the view became quite different, and much more shut in, owing to the dense walls of mangrove and other tropical vegetation which lined either side of the wide stream, up which the tide was swiftly flowing. The air now seemed fresh and pure; but in other states of the tide it is, I am told, very much the reverse.

In about half an hour we reached a junction of two streams, where the boats composing our flotilla had to part company—the steam-launch to be left behind, the prahu to lead the way, and the cutter to be paddled and punted up after us as far as she could go. This point proved to be only to a small landing-place, at which eight prahus were drawn up near two temporary wooden kajang huts belonging to the bird's-nest takers, members of the Eraan tribe, to whom the caves are let. Birds'-nests, it may be remarked, are a profitable property, yielding a royalty of 15,000 dollars, or over 2,500l. a year, to the North Borneo Company.

From the cutter we embarked in the prahu, and from the prahu we finally landed in a swamp, where an hour's rest was allowed for the coolies to get their food, whilst we completed the arrangements for our return voyage, which, on account of the tide, promised to be much more difficult.

At 10.45 A.M. we commenced the real hard work of the expedition. Everyone walked except me, and I had to be carried in a very light chair by two coolies, who were frequently relieved. It was rather serious work for the bearers—to say nothing of my feelings—for they had never carried a chair before, and the way lay through thick jungle, constantly interspersed by morasses and swamps, and obstructed by fallen trees, overhanging branches, thorny creepers, and marshy streams. At first I had many misgivings, but soon gained confidence when I saw how careful the men were, and how anxious to avoid an accident. Two coolies went on in front, and with their sharp parongs cut down or hacked away the more serious obstacles. If either the chair or I caught in a tree or a thorn, or if any special difficulty presented itself, somebody appeared from somewhere and rendered prompt assistance.

I scarcely know how they managed to make their way at all through the dense jungle which hemmed us in on every side, or to disentangle themselves from the numerous obstacles which beset our path. If one of the bearers suddenly plunged up to his waist in a morass, someone else instantly came forward to pull him out and to raise the chair again. When huge fallen trees obstructed the way, one or two men rushed forward to assist in lifting the chair and me over the barricade. In less than two hours I had been borne over an intricate and fatiguing path, up hill and down dale, with frequent changes but with no stoppages, until at last we fairly faced the limestone cliffs which we had seen from the distance rising straight out of the jungle. We had passed, and in fact followed for some distance, the fresh spoors, eighteen inches in diameter, of an elephant, the sight of which caused great excitement among the natives, especially when we met other natives armed with guns.



One bird's-nest taker whom we passed had just seen two elephants, and a great palaver ensued, in which the word 'harden,' or some such equivalent for ivory, frequently occurred. Many of the trees on the line of route were very fine, specially the tapangs, the splendid stems of which, supported by natural buttresses, rose in several instances at least two hundred feet from the ground, unbroken by a single branch. In the stem of the tapang the wild bees build their combs, and beeswax is an important and valuable product of the country. These trees, either singly or in groups, are the property by inheritance of the natives; so that whenever any attempt is made at clearing, or even cutting down a single tree, one of these small proprietors is sure to come forward and swear that his interest, derived from his father, his grandfather, or some even more remote ancestor, is likely to be affected. The timber itself is valuable, and where two buttresses occur exactly opposite to one another the width of the tree is often so great that large slabs, with a fine grain capable of taking a high polish, and large enough to form a dining-table for twenty-four people, have been cut from them. The Borneo jungle is so dense, and is so completely overshadowed by the trees rising from it, that there is no undergrowth, and the effect of bareness is produced; though I dare say that, if one could only look down on the forest from the car of a balloon, the flora of creepers, orchids, and parasites would be very beautiful wherever the light and air could penetrate.

Presently we came across a good subject for a sketch. I was waiting at the edge of a broad and winding river, shaded by tall trees, and flowing over a gravelly bed, while two men went on in advance to sound the depth of the stream before attempting to carry my chair across. Just then two hunters appeared from the forest and seated themselves on large mossy boulders a short distance apart. They put down beside them their baskets and bundles of nests, their little mat travelling-bags, and their elaborately carved and cased spears, holding fast to their kreises, parongs, and bows and arrows. They were literally armed to the teeth in their own fashion—a very formidable fashion it is too—and I very much doubt whether the gun which one of them had lying beside him was not the least terrible weapon which he possessed, so skilled are they in the use of their simpler implements of the chase and of warfare.

Continuing our difficult way, we at last emerged from the green darkness of the forest and found ourselves within view of the limestone rock or mountain in which are the marvellous bird's-nest caves which we had come so far to see. The cliff presented a striking effect, rising white and shining in the bright sunlight, slightly veiled by the tall trees and creepers, the leaves of which shimmered in the hot noontide haze. The dark entrance to the caves, stuffy as it was, and obstructed by the curious framework of rattans on which the nest-hunters sleep and cook and stow their arms, was a pleasant relief to the heat and glare without. Still more welcome was the sight of the coolies bringing refreshments and cooling drinks. If I, who had been carried all the way in comparative luxury, felt glad to see them, it can be imagined what must have been the feelings of the rest of the party, including Mabelle, who had walked the whole distance, and struggled gallantly over a most uncertain and treacherous forest track. We were not able to get into the cave at the opening where the men were encamped, and had to go some way round to another entrance.

From this point, each provided with a candle to light our way, we advanced into the darkness, stumbling, sliding, and occasionally falling on the slippery rocks, but still able to admire the noble proportions of the caves, their lofty grandeur, and the fantastic shapes of the limestone pillars by which the vaulted roof was supported. The whirring, fluttering, and twittering of many birds and bats could plainly be heard in the larger caves, which were densely peopled with winged and feathered inhabitants, and the roofs and sides of which were blackened by their nests. The Segama River, which we had ascended earlier, flows through these vast caverns, sometimes over a hard, stony bottom, but oftener over or through a mass of guano many feet in thickness, into which our guides more than once sank suddenly, emerging in a state which can be better imagined than described. Split palms were laid across the most awkward places; but it was extremely difficult to keep one's footing on this primitive causeway, and despite the assistance of the gentlemen, who carried me across many of the streams, it was impossible to escape an occasional wetting.

At one point the guides and leading members of the party, going on rather too rapidly, left us in complete darkness, and after waiting some time in the hope that they would discover their mistake and return, we had no alternative but to struggle up a most fearful precipice towards the only ray of light which we could see in the distance. It really was hard work, not only on account of the steepness of the ascent, but of the slippery and slimy condition of the rocks. Sometimes we knocked ourselves with painful abruptness against hard projections, at other times we sank to our knees in a mass of soft, wet guano teeming with animal life of various kinds, but mostly of the biting or stinging character. Mr. Crocker slipped and fell down some thirty feet or so, but fortunately emerged unhurt, though covered with black slime from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot.

After tremendous exertions we reached the end of our climb, during which I had been not only once but many times sorely tempted, and even strongly urged, to turn back. When we paused to rest, our eyes, by this time accustomed to the dim religious light, could perceive human figures crawling and clambering about the roof and pinnacles of the vast cavern in which we now found ourselves, and could observe many narrow rattan ladders hanging in the most precipitous places, or stretching horizontally across almost unfathomable abysses.

Fixed among the rocks on every side were strong hooks and pegs, to which the intrepid monkey-like nest-hunters attach their long, swinging ladders. Clinging to these, they proceed to prod all the nests within reach with a long bamboo pole, split into the shape of a three-pronged fork at one end, with a candle attached. They easily detach the nests, and rapidly transfer them to a basket hanging by their side. Having cleared the accessible space around them, they then unhook one end of their frail ladders and set themselves swinging like a pendulum, until they manage to catch another hook or peg, and then proceed to clear another space in the same way.

All this goes on throughout the day, and very often throughout the night as well, for the birds are then at home, and by their appearance the natives can judge more accurately of the age of the nests, on which their value depends. Occasionally, but not very often, a ladder breaks or a peg becomes rotten, and the hardy climbers tumble into the depths below, with almost invariably fatal results. The ladders employed are sometimes, I was told, as much as 500 feet in length, and we saw some ourselves over 150 feet long. Truly the seekers after birds and their belongings, whether eggs, feathers, or nests, are a daring race, alike on the storm-beaten cliffs of St. Kilda and of Norway and in the mysterious caves of Borneo and of Java.

Imagine our disappointment when, after another severe effort, we reached the fissure in the rock which admitted the light from above, and found that it afforded no means of egress except for bats and birds. Not even a Dyak or Sulu could have squeezed his way in or out by it, and there was nothing for it but to retrace our steps. Fortunately, however, we had not gone far before we met our guides with lights coming at last to look for us, and they led us to a comparatively easy exit from the cave; though in order to reach it we had to pass over horrible morasses of guano, into which we were only prevented from sinking by a path or bridge of two-inch palm stems affording a most uncertain foothold. On the way we passed more nest-hunters, and at the mouth of the cave we found another camp of wooden framework huts, on the top of which lay several men smoking, with their kreises, parongs, spears, and travelling-bags of matwork beside them. They would not part with any of their weapons or implements, even for more than four times their value, alleging that it would bring them ill-luck to sell them while engaged in an expedition, but adding that if we would go to their village, after their return, they would not only sell but willingly give us anything we might take a fancy to.



In the course of our descent from the cave we came across ten or a dozen bilian-wood coffins, which were excavated in this spot about fifty years ago. They were of the plainest possible make, and were evidently rapidly falling to pieces. It is thought that further excavations will lead to the discovery of finer and older coffins, for it is almost certain that wherever these caves exist they have been extensively used at one time as primitive burial-places.

Arrived at last by the side of a clear running stream, we were glad to take the opportunity of performing some much-needed ablutions, and to rest for a while. How tired we all felt I need not attempt to say. It required, indeed, a great effort of the will to take a few photographs and to carefully pack the birds' eggs and nests which we had collected, before resuming our journey.

We were all sorry when it was time to leave our pleasant halting-place at Madai and start on our homeward way. The path through the jungle was, however, delightfully shady, and was altogether easier than our upward course. The last view of the cave, looking back from the little hill facing it, just before entering the jungle, will always remain in my mind, though I saw it somewhat hazily through the gauze veil in which my head was wrapped up, in order to protect me from the hornets, which had already stung several of our party severely.

I have before now been in tropical forests and jungles, and they always produce the same awe-inspiring, and indeed depressing effect. The almost solid green walls on either side of the narrow track; the awful stillness which prevails, only occasionally broken, or rendered more intense, by the shrill note of a bird, the cry, or rather pitiful wail, of a monkey, the crashing of some larger creature through the dense undergrowth, as well as the profound solitude, will easily account for these feelings. Having overcome my first sensation of nervousness, caused by constant slips and slides on the part of my bearers, I had an excellent opportunity for contemplation until, in little less than two hours after leaving our last halting-place, we reached a spot close to where we had landed.



It was delightful to find that in our absence a charming little house had, by a piece of kind forethought, been built for us on the banks of the clear running stream. Raised as if by an enchanter's wand, this hut in the jungle was an inestimable comfort, and enabled us to rest quietly for a short time. At first it was proposed that we should certainly dine and possibly sleep in it; but when it was remembered that, pleasant and picturesque as might be the situation, we were still in the midst of a malarious mangrove swamp, prudent considerations prevailed, and it was decided to move on. After giving time, therefore, to the coolies to cook and eat their well-earned repast, everything was put into the prahu, which lay half in and half out of the water. Mabelle and I then seated ourselves in the centre of the boat, while everybody else pushed and shouted; some walking, some wading, some occasionally swimming. Thus we proceeded down the shallow stream, the prahu frequently on her beam-ends on one side or the other, until righted by friendly hands; shipping comparatively little water, but still taking in enough to make everything damp and uncomfortable.



It was a curious sight, the long boat, pushed by fifty or sixty natives and about a dozen Europeans, now in the water, now almost out of it. More than once I thought the natives must have been jammed between the bank and the boat when they slipped into a deep hole, and the great length of the prahu prevented her from turning quickly. At the nest-hunters' landing-place we found ourselves fairly high and dry, and had to be carried, prahu and all, for some little distance until we reached the deeper water beyond, only to find our further passage blocked by the trunk of a huge tree, so firmly imbedded in the mud that the united efforts of our large band of followers were powerless to move it. We had therefore to be pulled and hauled over the obstacle—a feat accomplished with much shouting and hullabaloo. First our long sharp prow rose in the air, submerging our stern, and taking, of course, some water on board; then the process was reversed, and we went bows under. At last we emerged quite safely and in deep water. Most of the swarm of swimmers quickly scrambled into the boat and converted themselves into paddlers, while the remainder swam ashore and either waited on the bank for the return of the prahu or shouldered their kajang mats and cooking-utensils, and trudged off again through the swampy jungle to the little rest-house which we had quitted a short time before. In the fast-fading twilight the scene looked picturesque and characteristic.

Resuming our now rapid voyage down the stream, we presently reached the spot where our own boats were waiting for us. Mabelle and I at once took possession of the cutter, the gentlemen of the steam-launch, and all proceeded, as far as circumstances would allow, to change our wet and dirty clothes. Then we joined company, and as soon as the prahu had discharged all her passengers and cargo our little flotilla proceeded in the original order down the river. On the way we enjoyed a capital little dinner, commencing with small fish about three inches long speared by a boat-hook, and concluding with quite the most delicious pine I ever tasted, grown in the experimental gardens of Silam.

At last we reached the mouth of the river, and were once more on the bosom of the open sea. Rather an agitated bosom it was too, just now, heaving in such a manner as to toss the cutter about a good deal and threatening to completely upset the native boat with its heavy load. In fact, the prahu behaved in the most alarming manner, absolutely refusing to steer, and turning broadside on to the constantly increasing swell. Our native pilot, too, in the steam-launch, did not mend matters by steering a very erratic course, and going a good deal further out to sea than was necessary. The islands, however, soon afforded shelter, and the moon rose over a scene of comparative calmness and repose. Most of us took advantage of this condition of things to rest a little after the labours of the day, and we found ourselves actually alongside the yacht before we had any idea we were near her. It was exactly half an hour after midnight, and Tom was delighted and greatly relieved to see us, having quite abandoned all hope of our appearing until the morning, and having conjured up all sorts of gloomy forebodings as to the ill-effect of sleeping in mangrove swamps, besides attacks from hostile natives, and other horrors. The three gentlemen went off in our launch, towing the prahu, after receiving our warm thanks for the great trouble which they had taken, to which we were entirely indebted for the success of a most interesting expedition. With a grateful heart for pleasure enjoyed and difficulties overcome, I went to bed, completely worn out, at the end of what may fairly be regarded as another red-letter day of the present cruise.

Tom had been unable to accompany us on our expedition, considering it a public duty to put together the very interesting information which had been communicated to him by the authorities charged with the administration of affairs at the numerous ports at which we had touched on the coast of Borneo. He wished to complete his work, so that it might be read to Governor Treacher before being despatched to England. [This paper appeared in the 'Nineteenth Century.']



CHAPTER IX.

CELEBES.

Friday, April 15th.—Although it was nearly two o'clock before I went to bed, I was up before seven this morning ready to go ashore with Tom and Mabelle to say good-bye to our friends, and to see how Silam looked by daylight. It is a neat, picturesque little village with most of its wooden houses standing upon piles. Landing was, as usual, a difficult matter, for there was nobody to hold the boat, and no one to help us. The people in Darvel Bay have evidently very little curiosity, for they scarcely turned their heads to look at us, though European ladies have rarely landed here before. Near the shore, little shops, mostly kept by Chinamen, are established on either side of the pier. Their exterior is not imposing, but inside a very fair display of goods is to be found.

The bay looked quite animated this morning, a fleet of small boats having arrived during the night, filled with Sulus, Eraans, and Bugis. Each boat carried enormous outriggers projecting on either side, and had an awning thatched with kajang mats; while dried fish, arms, gongs, cooking-pots, bags, and odds and ends of all kinds hung from the poles which supported the roofing. A great deal of barter was going on on shore. At the first shop I went to I saw one of the bird's-nest collectors whom we had noticed yesterday pitch down a bundle of nests on the floor without saying a word. The Chinaman at once fetched some weights, weighed the nests, and mentioned the price in one word. Three words escaped the nest-hunter's lips, which resulted in the production of sundry bright-coloured cotton Manchester cloths, some evidently modern kreises (probably made at Birmingham), besides bird-calls and pipes. In the next shop were two dapper little Sulus in Spanish-looking costumes, with dozens of pairs of the golden-edged pearl-shells, which we had searched for in vain the night before last. The bargain was not yet concluded, so that it was useless for us to try to trade. The shells, being bought and sold by weight, are handled rather roughly; but it was in vain that I endeavoured to persuade them by signs not to throw them about so carelessly at the risk of breaking their delicate edges. I did at last, however, succeed in getting some good specimens, finer than any we had yet met with. In the same shop were also some Bajans, or sea-gipsies, whose stock-in-trade consisted of a miscellaneous collection, including dried trepang, strings of very uninviting dried fish, smaller pearl-shells, little skins of animals and birds, and rattan canes in the rough, but much cheaper and better than those to be bought at Singapore or elsewhere. The rattan is the stem of a creeping prickly palm, the scientific name of which is the calamus. The rotan saga is the ordinary rattan of commerce, but there are several others of more or less value.

We walked up to the bungalow along a grassy path with kids and calves tethered on either side. Alas! their mothers had not yet returned from the mountains, so that the promised supply of fresh milk and butter to which we had been looking forward was not forthcoming.

Our friends at the bungalow were up and dressed, and none the worse for their fatigues of yesterday. Having mutually congratulated each other on the success of the expedition, we heard how lucky we had been in escaping the Borneo pest of leeches. It has not been raining much lately, but in wet weather they are worse than in Ceylon. Not content with attacking the passing traveller from the ground, they drop down from every branch or leaf, and generally the first intimation of their presence is the sight of a thin stream of blood oozing from their point of attack. If an attempt to pull them off be made, their heads remain fixed in the flesh and cause festering wounds. The only way of getting rid of them is to apply a little salt, a bag of which is always carried by the natives when going on an expedition into the jungle. Strong tobacco-juice is another remedy.

We had now to return to the boat, and to re-embark in the 'Sunbeam,' leaving the curios which we had purchased to be sent home by the earliest possible opportunity. Our friends complimented us with a salute of nineteen guns; to which we could make but a feeble return, as our armament only consists of two brass guns for signal purposes. None the less did we quit the shores of North Borneo with grateful appreciation of its beauties and a vivid sense of its countless undeveloped riches of every kind. Pleasant reminiscences of almost everything did we carry away with us, except of the intense heat, which I believe has been rather unusual this year, even the oldest inhabitant complaining nearly as much of it as we did. Just at the last moment the steam-launch 'Madai' arrived from Sandakan for Mr. Crocker and Mr. Treacher, bringing letters and presents of flowers, as well as things which we had accidentally left behind. She appeared to be a frail little conveyance for a voyage of so many miles under such a broiling sun, and a good fast vessel something like the Rajah's 'Lorna Doone' seems needed to maintain regular communication between the various ports of North Borneo, Brunei, Labuan, and Singapore.

We got under way at 8.45 A.M., and were much relieved when, at about ten o'clock, the cutter was descried in the distance, and still more rejoiced when we picked her up between the isles of Timbu Mata and Pulu Gaya. Tab came on board directly, looking very well, but tremendously sunburnt, as were also his four companions; but all were in great spirits. They brought with them two deer, of which the meat was too high to be used. It seemed that the shooting party had not been able to reach the island on the day they left us, for the 'Gleam' draws a good deal of water, and the passage was intricate and shallow. They therefore slept comfortably in the boat, and in the very early morning, seeing deer grazing, they landed, ascended a hill, and shot two of them. They also saw a good many pigs, but could not get any. Soon afterwards the Sulu chief and his followers, whom we had sent to look after the sporting party, arrived; the chief waving the letter, of which he was the bearer, in his hand, in order to allay the apprehensions which his appearance might naturally arouse. He and his people quickly spread themselves over the island, shouting, and waving white flags, in complete disregard of all the usual rules of civilised deer-stalking. Of course no more game could be got that day, for it was impossible by signs to stop the noise. While two of our men were out in search of deer, they were alarmed by the appearance of some canoes from the mainland, containing thirty or forty natives. They proved, however, to be only harmless fishermen in search of the great tepai mother-of-pearl shell and smaller black oyster-shell, in which pearls are found, and which abound on the shores of the island. The night was again passed on board the cutter, and this morning another unsuccessful deer-hunt took place. They found waiting in the sun to be picked up by us the hottest part of the entertainment. The tea had unfortunately been left behind, but they had some very good cocoa, which supplied its place.



At 9 P.M. we rounded the north end of Sibuco Island and passed through the Sibuco Passage, entering the Celebes Sea at about 11 P.M.

Saturday, April 16th.—A very hot day. At noon we had steamed 235 miles, and were in lat. 2 deg. 47' N., long. 119 deg. 32' E. Busy settling down all day. Rather an anxious time as regards navigation. Tom spends most of his time in the foretop. About 10 P.M. we entered the Straits of Macassar.

Throughout the day we had been exposed to the danger of collision with the numerous submerged logs and trunks of trees carried down by the river Koti and floating on the surface of the sea. The current must be tremendously strong in this river, which gives its name to a large tract of country; for not only are trees and logs washed down, but huge clumps of Nipa and Nebong palms, looking like (what they really are) small floating islands, are carried out to sea with their numerous feathered inhabitants. More than once when a sail had been reported in the offing, it proved to be one of those masses of vegetation, the branches and large fan-shaped leaves of which presented a deceptive likeness to masts and sails. Those which can be seen are not dangerous; it is only the half-submerged logs, almost invisible, yet large enough to sink a ship, for which a careful look-out has to be kept, both in the rigging and on the bows. In fact, we were going slow and half-speed all day, our course having constantly to be changed to avoid these obstacles. Our arrival at Macassar may therefore be considerably delayed.

Sunday, April 17th.—Another fine calm day, but intensely hot. We crossed the line about 7 P.M., and soon after eight sighted the high land of Celebes.

Monday, April 18th.—At 4 P.M. we were off Cape Katt; at 8 P.M. off Cape Madai. At noon we had come 211 miles under steam, and were in lat. 4 deg. 14' S., long. 118 deg. 43' E., being eighty-three miles from Macassar. Only the faintest breath of air could be felt, and even that soon died away. The sails which had just been set had therefore to be taken in again, and we proceeded as before under steam. This little experiment delayed us somewhat, but gave everybody on board some exercise.



Tuesday, April 19th.—At daybreak we found that we had drifted far to the southward during the sudden squalls and constant shifts of wind in the night. The currents hereabouts are exceedingly strong, and the soundings taken early in the morning proved that we were in unpleasantly shallow water—in fact, almost touching what we made out to be the edge of the Spermonde (?) Archipelago. Tom was at the masthead, endeavouring to pick up some landmark. At last he was able to distinguish the highest peak marked on the chart to the south of Macassar; whereupon he fearlessly gave the order to go full speed ahead in a NN.E. direction between that island and Satanga. This was much pleasanter than groping about by means of soundings, and it was a great relief to think that we were at last fairly on our course for Macassar. The scenery became lovely, and at 12.15 A.M. we reached our destination, and dropped anchor near the lighthouse.

The approach to the Dutch town of Macassar is very fine, and no doubt the beauty of its situation, as well as its convenience as a place of call for ships of all nations, caused it to be selected as the first European port in the East Indies. The roadstead was fairly full of shipping, which included a gunboat, one or two steamers, and several large sailing-ships. Pratt went ashore the instant the health-officer and harbour-master (these officers being combined in one person) had left, in order to find out the capabilities of the place; for we had been unable to gather anything from our first visitor, who could not speak a word of anything but Dutch, and contented himself with handing in a bundle of ship's papers, printed in every known language under the sun, and allowing us to select therefrom the one which suited us. Pratt soon returned, reporting, to our joy, that there was an ice-making machine ashore, and that, although it was only a little one, and would take nearly thirty-six hours to make the required quantity, we were promised a thousand pounds of ice by 7 A.M. to-morrow, or half as much again by one o'clock. After some deliberation the latter arrangement was agreed to.

About four o'clock we all landed, and under the guidance of the best interpreter to be found—a Chinaman who could speak nearly twelve words of English—we set off to inspect the ancient Dutch East Indian town. It is the oldest European settlement in the Eastern Archipelago, and has the air of respectability which belongs to old establishments of every kind and in every part of the world. In comparing Macassar with Singapore, it must be remembered that under Dutch administration the community is left in a much greater degree to its own resources. Of the results of the two systems of government, in relation to the general prosperity, there is no room for doubt and uncertainty. The exclusive policy of the Dutch, the obstacles opposed to commerce, when not carried on under the national flag, have produced a lethargy and stagnation, with which the marvellous growth of free and untrammelled trade at Singapore offers a striking contrast. The Dutch have but a slender hold over the Celebes. The physical configuration of the island is singularly straggling. To this circumstance it is probably due that the population is divided, both in race and language, into several distinct tribes.



Outside Fort Rotterdam a large level space is reserved as a public park. Its drives are shaded by fine avenues. In the outskirts of Macassar the streets become lanes, passing through rich groves of tropical vegetation. The slender dwellings of the native population, formed of matting stretched on a light framework of bamboo, are seen peering out from underneath the overhanging canopy of dense foliage.



Having called on the Governor, we drove to the Hotel Macassar, where, with the assistance of the captain of a Norwegian ship, dinner got itself ordered. After taking this precaution we drove out into the country, or rather the suburbs, to look at a large collection of native arms, from this and the surrounding islands. We were specially interested in the narrow Dyak shields and the wider ones which come from further north, as well as in the masks, skulls, and war-cloaks from Bali, Lombook, and Sumbawa, the musical instruments and weapons peculiar to Celebes, and the spears and kreises from all parts. So badly arranged were they, however, and kept in such a dark outhouse, that it was impossible to appreciate their value properly. After inviting the owner—a superintendent of police—and his family to visit the yacht, we continued our drive among pretty villas and bungalows, surrounded by the usual tropical fence, with gorgeous flowers and fruits inside it, until we came to a wealthy Chinaman's house and garden. The house was full of quaint conceits, and in the garden was a very pretty artificial pond surrounded by splendid ferns and palms, looking something like a natural lake in the midst of a tropic jungle. Then we drove on, through more valleys and past more gardens, to the Government coal-stores, which Tom inspected with interest, and which, he was told, contained at that moment 5,000 tons of coal. Afterwards, some of the party went on board the Dutch gunboat 'Bromo,' which acts as guard-ship, and is now coaling alongside.



The Netherlands Company's steamship the 'Bajara' sails to-morrow at 4 A.M., and the mail closes at six o'clock to-night; so it was necessary to hurry back on board in order to get our letters and journals ready in time, though we had luckily foreseen this emergency. The dinner was very good, and was served in a nice cool airy room at the hotel, landlady, waiters, and all being extremely civil, though we could scarcely exchange a single word with any of them.

Wednesday, April 20th.—Went ashore at 7.30 with Tom, Mabelle, Baby and Mr. Pritchett. The latter goes home to-day in the 'Bajara.' The morning was fairly cool. Mabelle and I went to one or two shops and tried to make some purchases; but, between our ignorance of the language and our poverty in the current coins of the country, we did not meet with much success. While we were at one shop, a very smart lady drove up in a neatly turned-out victoria and pair. She was dressed exactly like all the natives, except that the materials of her costume were better. A sarong, worked in a peculiar native way with wax, was wound round her waist, and a snowy white close-fitting linen jacket trimmed with lace and insertion formed the rest of her costume. Her hair was neatly fastened up with a comb, but her feet were bare, except for prettily embroidered slippers.



After breakfast most of the party went off on various shopping expeditions, for it will be Muriel's birthday to-morrow, and we are all providing suitable offerings for the occasion. Mabelle and Mr. Pemberton also went to the police-officer's residence to try and bargain for some of the arms which we had seen last night. There were eight or ten weapons which I should dearly like to possess. However, it proved to be hopeless to attempt to drive a bargain, for the collection could not be broken up, and I did not care to give the price asked for the lot. The owner presented me, however, with a magnificent Gordonia rubra, which I regarded as a great acquisition, having long searched vainly for this very plant. It is a specially perfect specimen, with beautiful feathery tips. After great trouble Mr. Pemberton also succeeded in buying for me a few spears, kreises, and baskets from Celebes, Sumbawa, and Bali, together with some so-called tortoiseshells (really turtle-shells) of a larger size than any that we had seen before. Still more pleased was I to get ten skins of the exquisite birds-of-paradise which Wallace so well describes. He considered himself amply repaid for toil and hardship by the discovery of their previously unknown splendour, which one can quite imagine, even in their dried and imperfectly prepared state. I have seen them alive at Singapore in an aviary, and they are indeed gorgeous.

Meanwhile Tom and I had returned to the yacht, where we were endeavouring to hasten such necessary preparations as coaling, watering, and provisioning. I vainly tried to get a little rest, notwithstanding a stream of visitors, including the Governor, Commandant, and many others. We all lunched ashore, and found most of the officers messing at the hotel, but at a separate table.

After further trouble in money-changing we went on board the yacht again, to find that the plentiful washing of decks, so necessary after coaling, was in full force, as well as the general air of confusion always prevailing before setting off on a long voyage. There being no chance of a start at present, Mr. Pemberton kindly went off to try to get back a cheque which Tom had given for the tortoiseshells and birds-of-paradise already paid for by me on shore. Pratt reported that he had the greatest difficulty in getting his stores off intact; for as fast as he had bought a thing and paid for it, the object or objects—as in the case of twenty-four chickens—suddenly disappeared into the recesses of the market again, and had to be hunted up with great difficulty and many excuses and subterfuges on the part of the sellers. The poor man with the cheque soon came on board, looking very frightened, and bringing a peace-offering of large green lemons and a bunch of the finest gardenias I had ever seen, the blossoms being eighteen inches round.

Just before dark we got under way. After our long passage under steam everybody pulled at the ropes—Tom, children, and all—as if they had never seen sails set before; the men working with a will, and shouting their loudest and merriest songs. All sounded most cheery; but the wind was unsteady, and the result was that the sails, which had been sent up with the fervent hope that they might remain set for the next six weeks, had to be lowered abruptly in as many minutes, and the anchor hastily dropped, to avoid a Dutch brig moored close to us, into which we were rapidly drifting in consequence of a sudden shift in the wind. The poor brig having already been in collision, and having lost her bowsprit and foretopmast, it would indeed have been hard to damage her again, though I expect we should have got the worst of it, for she was of a good old-fashioned bluff build. It was annoying to fail in getting under way under sail, and still more so to have to wait two hours while steam was being got up. At 8.30 P.M. we started again, more successfully this time, and proceeded quietly through the night.

Thursday, April 21st.—Muriel's birthday. Ceased steaming at 6 A.M. A heavy roll throughout the day, with occasional strong squalls. All suffering more or less from the motion. At noon we had steamed sixty-three miles and sailed twenty-one. In the afternoon the weather improved. At 7 P.M. the ship was put before the wind in order to let Neptune come on board, after which the ceremony of crossing the line was carried out with due solemnity and with great success. The costumes were capital, the procession well managed, and the speeches amusing. Muriel was delighted with an offering of shells, and Neptune finally took his departure amid a shower of one rocket (we could not afford more for fear of accident) and a royal salute of eight rifles. We could watch the flames of the tar-barrel in which Neptune was supposed to have embarked, as it rose and fell on the crests of the waves for many miles astern, looking like a small phantom ship.



Friday, April 22nd.—Bad night; heavy squalls throughout the day. Made and rounded the Paternoster at 8 A.M. Much cooler on deck; no apparent difference below.

At noon we had come 174 miles under sail, and were in lat. 7 deg. 56' S., long. 116 deg. 56' E. In the afternoon we made the entrance to the Allas Strait.

The Strait of Allas is one of several navigable channels by which ships can pass from the confined waters of the Eastern Archipelago into the Indian Ocean. It divides the island of Sumbawa, famous for possessing the most active volcano in the world, from the island of Lombok. At the eastern end of Lombok, a magnificent peak rises to a height of 12,000 feet, and overshadows the narrow channel beneath with its imposing mass. The effects of scenery were enhanced by a sharp squall, which drove us into the strait at a thrilling speed, under half-lowered canvas. When the squall cleared away the peak of Lombok stood forth clear of cloud, in all its majesty and grandeur, backed by the glorious colours of the evening sky. During the hour of twilight a massive cloud rested motionless in the sky immediately above the peak. Beneath this lofty and imposing canopy, and seen more dimly in the fading light, this solitary mountain presented by turns every feature that is sublime and beautiful in landscape.

Saturday, April 23rd.—To-day proved lovely after the rain, but there was very little wind. At noon we had come 66 miles under steam, and 62 miles under sail. I have felt wretchedly ill for the last few days, and seem to have lost both sleep and appetite. The motion, I have no doubt, has something to do with my indisposition, for we are going close-hauled to a wind from one quarter, and there is a heavy swell on the other, so that we roll and tumble about a great deal without making much progress. Every scrap of the Macassar ice has melted in these three days, instead of lasting three weeks, as did the ice from Singapore. This is a terrible blow, though we are consoled by the thought that the weather will be getting cooler every day now, and that we shall therefore want it less. Unless exceptionally fortunate in making a quick passage, I fear, however, that we shall run short of provisions before reaching our first Australian port, Macassar having proved a miserable place at which to take in stores.



At 4.30 P.M. we found ourselves suddenly, without any warning, in a curiously disturbed stretch of sea. It was like a tidal wave, or a race off a headland, except that there was no tide and no cape, and we were many miles from land. I immediately thought of Wallace and the volcanic waves which he alludes to, especially when I observed that the water was covered with greenish yellow objects, which at a first hasty glance I took for spawn of some kind. We soon had buckets and nets over the side, and fished up some of the floating particles, which proved to be bits of pumice-stone, rounded by the action of the waves, and covered with barnacles from the size of a pin's head upwards. So thickly were they encrusted that it was almost impossible to recognise the original substance at all. The barnacles, with their long cirri projecting and retracting quickly in search of food, gave the whole mass an appearance of life and motion very curious when closely observed in a basin. There were sea-anemones among them, and one little bit of stick, of which a long black snake or worm had scooped out the interior and thus made itself a home. Saribowa, said to be one of the most active volcanoes, is not far distant from the spot where we picked up the pumice-stone.

It is a lovely, clear, starlight night, with no black clouds to threaten coming squalls of wind or rain. The breeze, though not so fair as we could wish, is at any rate cool and refreshing, and the reduced temperature is felt as a great relief to all on board. Even the poor carpenter, who has been ill for some time past, is beginning to look better, though his eyes are still very painful. I am sorry for him, poor man, and for ourselves too, for his services are wanted at every turn just now. We are making all ready for the bad weather, which we may fairly expect to meet with when once in mid-ocean. All the big boats have been got in-board to-day, chairs have been stowed below, the top of the deck-house cleared of lumber and live-stock, cracked panes of glass replaced, battening-down boards looked out, new ropes rove, and all preparations made for real hard sea work. How I wish we were going down the east coast of Australia, inside the barrier-reef, instead of down the stormy west coast! I dread this voyage somehow, and begin even to dislike sailing. Perhaps my depression is partly caused by that stupid boy Buzzo having allowed my favourite lark, which I had brought from Hyderabad, to escape to-day. He sang much more sweetly and softly than most larks, and was a dear little bird, almost as tame as my pet bullfinch. Now he must meet with a watery grave, for he was too far from land when he flew off to reach it.

Sunday, April 24th.—Weather still calm, fine, and hot, but no wind. Our little stock of coal is running very low, for we have been obliged to get up steam again. At 11.30 we had the Litany, at which I was able to be present, on deck. At noon we had steamed 127 miles, and were in lat. 11 deg. 25' S., long. 116 deg. 39' E. Tom is getting much better again, but is rather anxious at not having picked up the Trades so soon as he had expected. He now much regrets not having taken more coal and provisions on board, as he fears that the voyage may be unduly prolonged. We had quite a serious consultation to-day with the head-steward on the subject of ways and means, for the strictest economy must be practised as to food and water, and the most must be made of our coal. Oh for another twenty-five tons in reserve!



You may imagine what the heat has been during the last few weeks, when, with the thermometer standing at 80 deg. to-day, people found it so chilly that they could not even wait until to-morrow to get out their warm clothes!

Monday, April 25th.—Fine and hot, with, alas! no wind. Ceased steaming for a brief space, but, as we made no progress, resumed after twenty minutes' pause. At noon we had come only eight miles under sail and 158 under steam, and were in lat. 13 deg. 58' S., and long. 114 deg. 52' E. The afternoon was showery, and hopes were entertained of a change of wind. A little breeze—a very little one—came out of the squalls, and we ceased steaming about six o'clock.

Tuesday, April 26th.—A breeze sprang up in the course of the night, and we ceased steaming at 8 A.M. In the shade, and in a draught, the thermometer stood at 77 deg.. Everybody was—or at least many were—crying out for blankets and warmer clothing. The breeze increased almost to a gale, and we were close-hauled, with a heavy swell, which made us all very uncomfortable.

Wednesday, April 27th.—At 4 A.M. went on deck with Tom. Weather much finer and wind fairer. We must hope that yesterday's curious little moon may have changed our luck. All day it continued finer, and in the afternoon the wind freshened, and shifted a point or two for the better, sending us along, at higher speed and right on our course; so that we must not grumble, though the motion was still most unpleasant.

Thursday, April 28th.—I have been suffering much from neuralgia, and last night could not sleep at all, so that although this was really a lovely day I was unable to enjoy its pleasant beauty. At noon we had come 148 miles under sail, and were in lat. 18 deg. 36' S., long. 109 deg. 26' E. There was no variation in the compass to-day, this being one of the spots in the world where a similar state of things is observable.

At 5.30 P.M. we had the third nautical entertainment of the present voyage, which was quite as varied and successful as usual. Mr. Pemberton's recitation from Tennyson, and Tab's humorous account of Father Neptune's visit to the 'Sunbeam,' were the novelties on this occasion. There were also some excellent songs by the crew, a pretty ballad by Muriel, and a reading by Tom; Mabelle being as usual the backbone and leader of the whole affair. I managed to sit through it, though in great pain, but was obliged to go to bed directly after.

Friday, April 29th.—The weather is now really lovely. Painting and varnishing are still the order of the day. At noon we had sailed 143 miles, and were in lat. 20 deg. 40' S., long. 107 deg. 52' E. Again there was practically no variation in the compass, and if we only go far enough we shall soon have an extra day in one of our weeks!

Saturday, April 30th.—After a very bad night, during which I suffered agonies from neuralgia, I woke feeling somewhat better. We are now bowling along before a brisk trade-wind, which produces a certain amount of motion, though the vessel is fairly steady on the whole. At noon we had sailed 162 miles, and were in lat. 22 deg. 32' S., long. 105 deg. 53' E. The wind freshened in the afternoon as usual, but died away slightly during the night, which was beautifully clear and starlit. Everybody is full of spirits, and I hear cheery voices on deck with the least little bit of envy, I fear, as I lie in my bed below.

Sunday, May 1st.—The merry month of May does not commence very auspiciously, with a dirty grey sky, a still dirtier grey sea flopping up on our weather bow, and half a gale blowing. Fortunately it is from the right direction, and we make good progress.

I was able to attend the Litany at 11.30, and evening service at 4. At noon we had sailed 153 miles, and were in lat. 24 deg. 39' S., long. 104 deg. 14' E., and were fairly out of the tropics. In fact, everybody is now grumbling at the cold, and all the animals and birds look miserable, although the thermometer still stands at 69 deg. in the shade. Perhaps the fresh breeze makes us so chilly, though it does not affect the thermometer.



Monday, May 2nd.—The weather is finer, though it still keeps squally; but the wind is baffling, and we were sailing a good deal out of our course during the night. At noon we were in lat. 26 deg. 44' S., long. 103 deg. 50' E. I managed to go to the deck-house to-day for lunch, and remained on deck a little afterwards. Just before sunset we saw several sea-birds, and a splendid albatross with a magnificent spread of wing. It was wonderful to watch its quick turns and graceful skimming flight, so swift, and yet with hardly any perceptible movement.

Tuesday, May 3rd.—A fine day, very smooth, almost calm. Carried away the strop of the mizen-topsail-sheet block and rove new sheets. At noon we had sailed 140 miles, and were in lat. 28 deg. 54' S., long. 103 deg. 12' E.

At 2.30 a large fish was observed close to the vessel. He was from twenty to thirty feet long, and must have been either a white whale or a shark swimming on his back, and so snowy white as to make the sea, which was of a beautiful clear ultramarine blue, look pale green above him, like water over a coral reef. The creature did not rise above the surface, so we had not a good view of him, and he gave no sign of a disposition to 'blow,' though we watched him for more than half an hour. This makes me think that he must have been a shark, and not a whale, as the others assumed.

At 4 P.M. the fires were lighted in order to enable us to get within the influence of the true west wind, for we had reached the edge of the trades. About 6 P.M. we commenced steaming.

Wednesday, May 4th.—A fine day, with a moderate sea and a little imaginary breeze. At noon we had come eighty-six miles under steam and forty under sail, and were in lat. 30 deg. 24' S., long. 124 deg. 26' E. [Transcriber's Note: Long. 124 deg. E. would put the Sunbeam in the middle of Australia. More likely the author meant 104 deg..] The temperature at noon in the shade was 65 deg., which we found very cold.

At 4 P.M. we saw a steamer hull down. In about an hour we had approached each other sufficiently close to enable us to ascertain that she was the 'Liguria,' one of the Orient Line, bound for Adelaide. We exchanged a little conversation with signal flags, and, having mutually wished each other a pleasant voyage, parted company. This was the first ship seen since leaving Macassar. The evening bitterly cold.

We have just seen a splendid lunar rainbow, and I suspect it forebodes a good deal more wind than we have lately had. It was perfect in shape, and the brilliant prismatic colours were most distinctly marked. I never saw such a rainbow, except as the precursor of a circular storm. I only hope that, should we encounter such a gale now, we may get into the right corner of it, and that it will be travelling in the right direction. I wish it would come in time to run up our weekly average to a thousand miles by midday.



Thursday, May 5th.—At 5 A.M. I was awakened by being nearly washed out of bed on one side and by a deluge of water coming into the cabin on the other. A squall had struck us, and we were tearing along with the lee rail under water, the rain meanwhile pouring down in torrents. The squall soon passed over, but there was every appearance of the wind increasing, though the barometer still stood high. Squall followed squall in quick succession, the wind increasing in force, and the sea rapidly rising. It soon became plain that we were in for a gale of some kind, and a very little later it became equally evident that, in accordance with the law of storms, we must be in the north-west quadrant of a circular storm, the centre of the disturbance being somewhere to the south-east. Sails were furled, others were reefed, and all was made fairly snug.

At noon we had run 136 miles to the north-east since the early morning, but we had not quite reached our estimated weekly average of a thousand miles. At noon we were in lat. 31 deg. 29' S., long. 105 deg. 48' E., with Cape Entrecasteaux 546 miles distant. The barometer stood at 30.10, and the temperature fell to 60 deg..

Several times during the morning the lee cutter had been in imminent danger of being lifted right out of the davits and carried away. About two o'clock the topmasts were struck; an hour later the skylights were covered over with tarpaulin, and a good deal of battening down took place on deck. Below, the stewards were employed in tautening up things which had been allowed to get rather slack during the long spell of smooth weather which we have had of late, nothing like a storm having been encountered for weeks, or indeed months.

Before dusk the lee cutter was got in-board, more reefs were taken in, all was made snug on deck, and I might say stuffy below. Shortly after this was accomplished we sailed out of the influence of the storm, the centre travelling quickly away to the south-east of us. Thereupon we shook out one or two reefs and set a mizen trysail to prevent the fine weather lops coming on board; for the sea was beginning to go faster than the wind, and one or two big beads of spray found their way on deck, one of which, much to their amusement, drenched the children completely. The glass continued to rise, and the weather improved throughout the night.



Friday, May 6th.—I was indeed delighted when, at dawn, it was thought safe to let us have a little light and air down below. Soon the sun rose, and all became bright and beautiful once more, though the air felt extremely chilly. We were now well on our course, but sailing pretty close to the wind, and therefore only doing about five or six knots. Continual squalls struck us throughout the day, and the sea was very lumpy from the effects of yesterday's gale, though the wind had almost completely subsided. What there was of it gradually headed us in the course of the afternoon, which did not tend to make things more comfortable; though the children at any rate did not seem to mind it, for they have entirely got over their slight sea-sickness. At noon we had sailed 138 miles, and were in lat. 32 deg. 28' N., long. 108 deg. 6' E.; the barometer stood at 30.10, and the temperature was still 60 deg..

Sunday, May 8th.—Woke early, only to hear that the wind had changed; but it proved a lovely morning, though the sky was covered with fleeting clouds, which made it difficult for the navigators to get the sun. We had the Litany at 11.30, and at noon were in lat. 34 deg. 47' S., long. 113 deg. 54' E., having run 201 miles. The temperature had risen to 63 deg., and the barometer stood at 30.19.

Tom has been deeply immersed in calculations all this afternoon, the best of the three chronometers on board, by Dent, having behaved in a very erratic manner since we got into a cooler temperature. On the other hand, the chronometer of Brockbank & Atkins, which has hitherto been regarded as not quite so reliable, is making up for past shortcomings by a spell of good conduct. Under these circumstances, it is difficult to know which to depend upon, and Tom is consequently somewhat anxious about his landfall. The weather has been so squally and overcast that no really good sights have been obtained all day.

At noon we had only come 194 miles by dead-reckoning. Observation proved that we had been helped onwards by a favouring current, and had really come 201 miles. We had evening service at 4.30 P.M. During the afternoon we saw many more sea-birds, and several albatrosses. It was a fine evening, the wind having dropped rather light. In the middle watch, however, it became squally.



CHAPTER X.

WESTERN AUSTRALIA.

Monday, May 9th.—At 3 A.M. carried away the clew of the mainsail, and at 7 A.M. set more sail. At 10 A.M. we made West Cape Howe, Western Australia, our first land since leaving the Allas Strait. It was with great joy and relief, as well as with, I think, pardonable pride in Tom's skill as a navigator, that I went on deck to see these rock-bound shores. It was certainly a good landfall, especially considering the difficulties which we had met with on account of the chronometers. The instrument which for years has been considered the most trustworthy suddenly changed its rate, and has been losing three seconds in the twenty-four hours. The navigators have been taking great pains. Observations have been frequent. Fifteen sights were taken daily, in three sets of five at three different periods.

Tom's estimated average run of 1,000 knots per week under sail has come out pretty well, and my own daily estimates of the run have been also surprisingly near the mark. In fact, Tom thinks them rather wonderful, considering that they have been arrived at simply by watching and thinking of the vessel's ways all day and part of the night, and often without asking any questions.

At 11 A.M. we lowered the mainsail and raised the funnel. At noon we had run 190 miles, and were half a mile to the northward of Eclipse Island, the barometer standing at 30.19, and the thermometer at 59 deg.. At one o'clock we passed inside Vancouver's Ledge. The coast seemed fine and bold, the granite rocks looking like snow on the summit of the cliffs, at the foot of which the fleecy rollers were breaking in a fringe of pale green sea, whilst on the other side the water remained of a magnificent deep ultramarine colour.

About two o'clock we rounded Bald Head, soon after which the harbour-master of King George Sound and a pilot came on board, and were the first to welcome us to Western Australia. Over the lowland on one side we could see a P. & O. steamer, with the Blue Peter flying. Accordingly we sealed up all our mails and hurried them off, having previously hoisted the signal to ask if they could be received. By four o'clock we were at anchor in King George Sound, which reminded us much of Pictou in Nova Scotia.

Albany is a clean-looking little town, scarcely more than a village, built on the shore of the bay, and containing some 2,000 inhabitants. We were soon in the gig, on the way to the P. & O. steamer 'Shannon' to see our old friend Captain Murray. After looking round the familiar decks, and having tea on board, we exchanged good wishes for a fair voyage, and rowed ashore, landing on a long wooden pier.

Carriages are not to be hired in Albany, but we found an obliging carter, who had come to fetch hay from the wharf, and who consented to carry me, instead of a bundle of hay, up to the house of Mr. Loftie, the Government Resident. We have decided to remain a week in order to give me a chance of recruiting; besides which the 'Sunbeam' needs a little painting and touching-up to make her look smart again after all the hard work and buffetings she has gone through.

Most of the party stayed on shore to dinner, for the kitchen-range on board the 'Sunbeam' has got rather damaged by the knocking about of the last few days. I went back, however, in my primitive conveyance as far as the end of the pier, and then returned straight on board, feeling very tired with even so short an expedition. In the course of the afternoon a large sackful of letters and newspapers from England was delivered on board, much to our delight.

Tuesday, May 10th.—A busy morning with letters and telegrams. Dogs are not allowed to land in any part of Australia until they have performed six months' quarantine, but I was able to take mine ashore at Quarantine Island, which we found without much difficulty with the aid of a chart. A little before one o'clock we landed at the pier, where Mr. Loftie met us, and drove us to the Residency to lunch. It was a great treat to taste fresh bread and butter and cream once more, especially to me, for these are among the few things I am able to eat. After lunch several ladies and gentlemen came to call on us.

I was sorry to hear that a terrible epidemic of typhoid fever seems to be ravaging this little town. Built as it is on the side of a hill overlooking the sea, and with a deliciously invigorating air always blowing, Albany ought to be the most perfect sanatorium in the world. Later in the afternoon I went for a drive with Mrs. Loftie all round the place, seeing the church, schools, and new town hall, as well as the best and worst parts of the town. It was no longer a mystery why the place should be unhealthy, for the water-supply seems very bad, although the hills above abound with pure springs. The drainage from stables, farm-buildings, poultry yards, and various detached houses apparently has been so arranged as to fall into the wells which supply each house. The effect of this fatal mistake can easily be imagined, and it is sad to hear of the valuable young lives that have been cut off in their prime by this terrible illness.

In the course of our drive we passed near an encampment of aborigines, but did not see any of the people themselves. We also passed several large heaps of whales' bones, collected, in the days when whales were numerous here, by a German, with the intention of burning or grinding them into manure. Formerly this part of the coast used to be a good ground for whalers, and there were always five or six vessels in or out of the harbour all the year round. But the crews, with their usual shortsightedness, not content with killing their prey in the ordinary manner, took to blowing them up with dynamite, the result being that they killed more than they could deal with, and frightened the remainder away.

The steward's report on the resources of the place from a marketing point of view is more curious than encouraging. There is no fresh butter nor milk to be had, except through the kindness of a few private individuals. Mutton abounds, but there is very little beef or veal. Good York hams are to be procured from England only. Fruit and vegetables are brought down from Perth or come over from Adelaide, and the most eatable salt butter is brought from Melbourne.



Wednesday, May the 11th.—It had been settled that to-day should be devoted to an excursion to the forests which are now being opened up by the new line of railway in course of construction. The special train of ballast-trucks which had been provided for us was to have started at ten o'clock, soon after which hour we landed, some delay having been caused at the last moment by the receipt of a message requesting us to send ashore every rug we possessed, in order to make the truck in which we were to travel as comfortable as possible. The required wraps and furs had accordingly to be got up from the hold, where they had lain for months past. On landing we found a pleasant party assembled to receive us, including the engineer of the new line, Mr. Stewart, and his wife. In due course we were all seated on two long planks, back to back, in open trucks, behind an engine and tender. We commenced our journey by slowly passing the enclosures, gardens, and courts adjoining the houses of the town. About three-quarters of a mile out of Albany we stopped to water the engine at a primitive trough in a cutting about twelve feet deep—the deepest on the whole line, which in the main is laid over a surface as flat as a pancake.

The morning was simply perfect—one of those days which make mere existence a pleasure; the air felt light and invigorating, the sun was bright and warm; all seemed so different from the damp muggy air or fierce burning sunshine of which we have had so much experience lately.

Our route lay over a sort of moorland, sprinkled with rare ericas such as we carefully preserve in greenhouses at home. Other flowers there were, too, in abundance, and of many kinds, including scarlet bottle-brushes, large white epacris, and mimosa covered with yellow balls of blossom. The trees seemed to consist chiefly of white gum, peppermint, and banksias, and all looked rather ragged and untidy. One great feature of the vegetation was what are called the 'black-boys' (Xanthorrhea), somewhat resembling tree-ferns, with a huge black pineapple stem, at the top of which grows a bushy tuft of grass-like foliage.

About nine miles out we came to a broad stretch of water known by the very prosaic name of 'Nine-mile Lake.' It looked lovely this bright morning, with the opposite hills and a fine group of blue gum-trees sharply mirrored in its glassy surface. The train stopped for a few minutes to enable us to admire the view and to take some photographs. In the course of another mile or so we quitted the main line to Perth, and proceeded along a branch line leading into the heart of the forest. The undergrowth was nowhere very thick, and where it had been cleared by burning, fine grass had sprung up in its place. As we left the moorland and got into the real forest of grand gum-trees the scene became most striking. The massive stems of many of the eucalypti were between thirty and forty feet in circumference and over a hundred feet in height. The glimpses which we caught between these tall trees of Torbay, with the waves breaking in huge rollers on the shore or in angry surf against the steep cliffs of Eclipse Island, were quite fascinating.

We steamed slowly along the lightly ballasted line—only laid yesterday, and over which no engine has yet travelled—two men running on in front to tap the rails and joints, and to see that all was safe. About three-quarters of a mile of rail is laid each day. It is being built on what is called the land-grant system; that is to say, for every mile completed the Government give the railway company 6,000 square acres of land, to be chosen at the completion of the line by the company's agent, the Government reserving to themselves the right of alternate frontage to the railway. The distance from Albany to Beverly (a town standing about 120 miles equidistant from Perth and Fremantle, which will be the terminus of the line, at any rate for the present) is 220 miles. The line was commenced and should have been carried on from both ends, but the contractors find it much cheaper to work only from the Albany end. It ought to be a very cheap line, for it requires scarcely any earthworks and no rock-cuttings or bridges, the soil being loose and gravelly with a granite foundation. There are few rivers to cross; and timber for the sleepers is to be had in abundance, and of the best quality, from the trees which must necessarily be cut down to clear the forest for the passage of the line. The entire road was to have been completed in three years from the time of commencement; but it will probably be finished in about two, as a good deal of the work is already done.



We were taken by another branch line to some saw-mills, where the sleepers for the railway are prepared. Here some of us got into a light American buggy drawn by a fine strong pair of cart-horses, in which conveyance we took our first drive through the bush. To me it seemed rather rough work, for in many places there was no track at all, while in others the road was obstructed by 'black-boys' and by innumerable tree-stumps, which the horses avoided or stepped over most cleverly. Still the wheels could not be expected to show quite so much intelligence, and we consequently suffered frequent and violent jolts. From the driver—a pleasant, well-informed man—I learnt a good deal respecting the men employed on the line. There are about 130 hands, living up here in the forest, engaged in hewing down, sawing, and transporting trees. These, with the women and children accompanying them, form a population of 200 souls suddenly established in the depths of a virgin forest. They have a school, and a schoolmaster who charges two shillings a week per head for schooling, and has fourteen pupils. He was dressed like a gentleman, but earns less than the labourers, who get ten shillings a day, or 3l. a week, the best hands being paid regularly under all conditions of weather, and only the inferior labourers receiving their wages for the time during which they are actually at work. There are four fine teams of Australian-bred horses, and a spare pair for road or bush work. Communication with Albany, the base of operations, is of course maintained by means of the line, some of the navvies even coming from and returning thither each day in the trucks. The married men who live in the forest have nice little three-roomed cottages, and those I went into were neatly papered and furnished, and looked delightfully clean and tidy. The single men generally live in a sort of tent with permanent walls of brick or wood, and mess at a boarding-house for eighteen shillings a week. This seems a good deal for a labourer to pay for food alone, but it really means five good meals a day. The little colony has a butcher attached to it, from whom meat of the finest quality may be purchased at sixpence per pound, all but the prime parts being thrown away.

The rest of the party having walked up the line, I waited for them at the house of the District Manager, who with his wife received me most hospitably. On the walls of the apartment I was interested to notice the portraits of some of those who had been connected with my father-in-law in business, and who are now in the employ of Messrs. Miller, the contractors for this line.

As soon as Mr. Stewart and the rest of the party had joined us, we proceeded to the saw-mills and watched some great logs of jarrah being cut into sleepers. There were no elephants to assist in the operation as in Burmah, so that all the work had to be done by steam, with a little help from men and horses. Quantities of fragrant rose-coloured sawdust, used for stable litter, were lying about. Tons of wood not large enough for sleepers were being burned in order to get rid of it. It seemed a terribly wasteful proceeding, but there was more material than was wanted, and space after all was the great thing needed.

From the saw-mills we penetrated further into the forest, in order to see more large trees cut down, hewn into logs, and dragged away. Some of the giants of the forest were really magnificent. We followed a double team of sixteen horses drawing a timber-cart composed of one long thick pole between two enormous wheels some seven or eight feet in diameter. Above these wheels a very strong iron arch is fastened, provided with heavy chains, by means of which and with the aid of an iron crowbar, used as a lever, almost any weight of timber can be raised from the ground. The apparatus is called a 'jinka.' The men engaged in the work sit upon the pole with the greatest sangfroid as it goes bumping and crashing through the forest, striking up against big trees, or knocking down small ones; sometimes one wheel and sometimes another high on the top of a stump, or sometimes both wheels firmly fixed in one of the numerous deep holes. The scene was altogether most picturesque, as well as interesting; and it must be remembered that the top of each stump was larger than the surface of a large dining-table. The trees were from eighty to one hundred feet in height, all their branches springing from near the summit, so that the shadows cast were quite different from those one is accustomed to see in an ordinary wood. The day was brilliant, the sun shining brightly, and the blue sky relieved by a few white fleecy clouds moving softly before a gentle air. The timber-cutters were of fine physique, with brawny limbs and sunburnt faces.

We watched the adventures of one enormous log. A team of fourteen horses were yoked to a strong chain attached by large hooks to a trunk of such vast proportions that it seemed as if all the king's horses and all the king's men could never make it stir an inch. Twice the effort was made, and twice it failed. First, the hooks slipped off the end, and as the horses were pulling and tugging with all their might, directly the weight was removed away they went helter-skelter down the steep hill, up which they had just climbed with so much difficulty, being utterly unable to stop themselves on the steep slippery ground. Next time the chain broke as the horses were straining every muscle, and the same tantalising process was repeated with even more striking effect. The whole of the long team of the fifteen horses (for they had added another this time) became hopelessly entangled, two of the poor animals either falling or getting hampered and knocked down in their headlong gallop. The third time the log was got into position; the 'jinka,' with only one horse attached to it, was brought close, the pole was lowered, and the levers applied with such force that they not only raised the log but very nearly the unfortunate horse also into the air. When all was satisfactorily arranged, the other horses were attached to the jinka, and away they all went merrily down the hill, but only to come into collision with a big tree. The horses had again to be taken out, and harnessed this time to the other end of the jinka, so as to pull it in the opposite direction. At last the big log reached the saw-mills in safety, about the same time as we got there ourselves. We visited the village shop, which appeared to be well supplied with useful stores, and also the butcher's and carpenter's shops, and the smithy. They have never seen a clergyman or doctor up here, but by railway there is easy communication with the town if necessary. In the course of our rambles we heard the disheartening intelligence that, owing to some misunderstanding, our train had already gone back to Albany, taking with it not only our luncheon, but all the wraps. We proceeded, however, to the trysting-place, only to be greeted by blank looks of disappointment as each new arrival received the unpleasant news that the report of the train's erratic proceeding was only too well founded. Everybody was tired, cold, and hungry, and the conversation naturally languished. At last Mr. Stewart, who had been down the line to reconnoitre, brought back the welcome news that the distant snort of the engine could be heard. In due course it arrived, and the baskets and boxes containing the much-desired food were transferred from the truck to the bank and quickly unpacked by willing hands. Never, I am sure, was a luncheon more thoroughly appreciated than this in the depths of an Australian forest. The wraps, too, were most acceptable, for the air became keen directly after the early sunset. When we started on our return journey, taking back two truck-loads of workmen with us, it really seemed bitterly cold. Care had also to be taken to shelter ourselves from the shower of sparks from the wood fire of the engine, which flew and streamed out behind us like the tail of a rocket. We went back much more quickly than we had come, and stopped nowhere, except to take in a fresh supply of wood and water and to drop some of our passengers at their wayside residences.

Tab started off on horseback early this morning for Kendenup, a large station about forty miles inland, where we are to join him to-morrow, having been invited to stay for a day or two and judge for ourselves what station life is like. We accordingly sent all our luggage ashore to-night, in readiness for an early start in the morning.

Thursday, May 12th.—Half-past nine was the hour appointed for our departure, and soon afterwards we were all assembled on the pier, where we were met by a little group of friends who had come to see us off. Mr. Roach, the landlord of the 'White Hart,' was to drive us in a comfortable-looking light four-wheeled waggonette with a top to it, drawn by a pair of Government horses. The latter are generally used for carrying the mails or for the police service, but the Governor had telegraphed orders that they were to be lent to us for this expedition, as we could not have made it without them. Mabelle, Mr. des Graz, and Mr. Pemberton packed in behind, whilst I climbed up in front next the driver. There was a little difficulty at first in starting, but once that was overcome it was indeed a case of 'off.' We galloped four miles without stopping or upsetting, the one fact being perhaps quite as wonderful as the other. Up hill, down dale, round corners, over stumps, along rough roads, through heavy sand—on we went as hard as our horses could gallop. Fortunately there is not much traffic on the road, and during this mad career we only met two men walking and passed one cart.

About seven miles from Albany we had to climb a long steep incline, called Spearwood Hill, from the top of which we had a fine view over Albany, King George Sound, and the lighthouse on Breaksea Island. There were a great many flowers and a few trees quite unknown to us in the bush. Some of the blossoms were extremely pretty, but it was hopeless to think of stopping to gather them, for our horses were warranted not to start again under half an hour at least. They went at a good pace, however, passing another cart, and one colonist on horseback, very much encumbered with parcels, but not sufficiently so to prevent him from politely making room for us.

Chorkerup Lake Inn, our first change, fifteen miles from Albany, was reached in rather less than ninety minutes. It is a long, low, one-storeyed wooden building, but everything was scrupulously clean. In a few minutes the table was covered with a spotless cloth, on which fowls, home-cured bacon, mutton, home-made bread, potted butter, condensed milk, tea, Bass's beer, and sundry other articles of food and drink were temptingly displayed. We could not help regretting the absence of fresh milk and butter; and it does seem wonderful that where land is of comparatively little value, and where grass springs up in profusion the moment that land is cleared, people should not keep a cow or two, especially when the family comprises numerous small children, and there is a constant though scanty stream of passing travellers to provide for, whose number will be increased when the railway passes within a couple of miles of the inn.

Just as we were starting I discovered that the old smith living close by had been engaged on one of my father-in-law's contracts in South Wales, and had worked for four years in the Victoria Docks in London. He was delighted to exchange greetings with us; and it was quite touching to hear his protestations that he 'did not want nothing at all, only just to shake hands,' which he did over and over again, assuring me of his conviction that our visit was 'certain to do a power of good to the colony.' I suppose he gave us credit for having inherited, or at all events profited by, some of my dear father-in-law's good qualities.

The next stage was a long and weary one of another fifteen miles, mostly through heavy sand. Luckily, we had rather a good pair of big black horses this time, which took us along well. It was a fine warm afternoon, like a September day in England; but the drive was uneventful, and even monotonous except for the numberless jolts. We only met one cart and passed two houses, one of which was uninhabited and falling into decay. We also passed a large iguana, a huge kind of lizard about two feet long, lying sunning himself on the road. The aborigines eat these creatures, and say they are very good; and I have heard that white people have also tried them successfully. Their eggs are delicious, and when roasted in hot embers taste just like baked custard. They lay from twenty to thirty in the large ant-heaps which one constantly meets with in the bush, and which when rifled, in January or February, yield a rich harvest of these eggs. A shrub very much like dogwood, with a lilac flower rather like a large thistle, but with the leaves turned back, was plentiful, and is a valuable product, horses being able to live upon it for many weeks without water, though it does not look especially succulent. We saw beautiful parrots of all colours flying across the road, besides magpies and 'break-of-day' birds, a species of magpie. Our driver was very obliging in pointing out everything of interest, including the Pongerup and Stirling Ranges in the blue distance.

At the end of the thirty-one miles we came to one of the advanced railway villages inhabited by the pioneers of civilisation. It was very like the one we visited yesterday; in fact, I suppose they are all similar, experience having taught that a certain style of arrangement is the most convenient.



A couple of miles further brought us—in two hours forty minutes from Chorkerup—in sight of a tidy little house and homestead standing in the midst of a small clearing, surrounded by haystacks and sheds, and really looking like a bit of the old country.

Right glad we all were to get out and stretch our weary limbs after the shaking and jolting of the last sixteen miles; and still more welcome was a cup of good tea with real cream, home-made bread, and fresh butter, offered with the greatest hospitality and kindness, in a nice old-fashioned dining-room. Everything was exquisitely clean, and nicely served. The sitting-room contained several books, and the bedrooms all looked comfortable. The outside of the house and the verandah were covered with woodbines, fuchsias, and Marechal Niel roses, whilst the garden was full of pink and white oxalis and other flowers. I ought, in sheer gratitude, to add that the mistress of this pretty hostelry absolutely refused all payment, and indeed sent out her two nice daughters to gather some roses and other flowers for a nosegay for me.

If it had been difficult to reach this inn from the high road, it seemed ever so much more difficult to get away from it by quite another route. It was like leaving the palace of the Sleeping Beauty, so dense was the forest and so impossible to find the ancient track, already quite overgrown. A little perseverance, however, brought us once more to the main road, along which we bowled and jolted at a merry pace for about ten miles. We met four wagons, drawn by four horses each, and laden with sandal-wood, guided, or rather left to themselves, by a Chinaman. It was with great difficulty that we succeeded in passing the first three wagons, and in getting out of our way the fourth collided with a tree, which, I thought, must bring it to a standstill; but no: after prodigious exertion on the part of the horses, and a great straining of harness and knocking about of woodwork, it crashed slowly on, breaking the tree—which was a tolerably thick one—completely in two, and carrying part of it away.

At the end of the ten miles we again turned off the main road at a point where a solitary pillar-post and parcel-box stood by the wayside, and once more plunged into the intricacies of a by-track. Lucky it was that we had saved the daylight, for some of the holes were deep enough to have upset any trap, and there was a steep hill, which our driver seemed to view with great apprehension, though I do not fancy we should think much of it in East Sussex. Soon after this we came to a large homestead and farm, near which a number of sheep were folded. On the opposite bank stood a substantial-looking wooden house, surrounded by a verandah and by a clump of trees, in the middle of what might have been an English park, to judge from the grass and the fine timber; and after crossing a small creek we reached the hospitable door of Kendenup Station.



It had turned bitterly cold after leaving Mount Barker, and I realised the value of the warning which our Albany friends had given as to the treacherous character of the Australian climate at this time of year. In fact I felt thoroughly chilled, and quite too miserably ill to do justice to any of the many kindnesses prepared, except that of a blazing wood fire.

Tab seemed to have spent a pleasant morning riding through the bush after kangaroos, of which plenty had been seen, but none killed. The very beauty of the day interfered with the sport, for the air was so still and clear that the kangaroos heard and saw the hunters long before they could get within shot. After supper the gentlemen went out to hunt opossums by moonlight, and shot two, literally 'up a gum-tree.' Opossum-hunting does not seem great sport, for the poor little animals sit like cats on the branch of a tree, with their long tails hanging down, and are easily spied by a dog or a native.

Friday, May 13th.—It was a very cold night, the thermometer falling to freezing-point. Woke at six, to find a bright, clear, cold morning, with a sharp wind blowing from the south, which is of course the coldest quarter in this part of the world. At seven a delicious cup of tea was brought up, and at eight we breakfasted, the table being charmingly decorated with fresh flowers and fruit. Afterwards a stroll round the house, gardens, and orchard, and a gossip over the fire, occupied the early part of the morning very agreeably.

The difficulty of housekeeping here must be extreme. It is almost impossible to keep servants in the far-away bush; they all like to be near a town. I would earnestly advise everybody thinking of going to any out-of-the-way part of our colonies to learn to a certain extent how to do everything for himself or herself. Cooking, baking, and washing, besides making and mending, are duties which a woman may very likely have to undertake herself, or to teach an untrained servant to perform. I should be inclined to add to the list of desirable accomplishments riding, driving, and the art of shoeing and saddling a horse in case of emergency; for the distances from place to place are great, and the men are often all out on the run or in the bush.

About half-past nine Mr. Hassall took me for a drive round the station and clearing. We saw the remains of the old gold-workings, not two hundred yards from the house. Up to now they have been unprofitable, but hopes are entertained that, with better machinery for crushing the quartz, larger results may be obtained. At present the expense of working is so great that the gold is not found in paying quantities.

From the deserted gold-field we drove through some enclosed land where corn and 'straw-hay' had been grown, but had been given up because it did not pay. Then through more enclosures for cattle and sheep, and finally over some virgin land, across what might have been an English park if it had not looked so untidy from many of the trees having been 'rung'—an ugly but economical method of felling timber, by cutting a deep furrow round the bark so as to stop the circulation, and thus cause the tree to die. Then we crossed a now dried-up river, and climbed the opposite bank of a creek, to a point from which we had a lovely view of the distant Stirling Range.

I was interested to hear that, with the aid of a foreman from Suffolk, the system of rotation of crops had been tried here with great success, as far as production went. Never were such wheat and 'straw-hay' crops seen in the colony; but, after all, the farm did not pay, for flour from South Australia could be purchased cheaper; and as teams are constantly going into Albany with loads of sandal-wood and wool, the carriage out costs very little.

I was told that the land here only carries one sheep to ten acres. On these extensive sheep-walks good dogs are much wanted; but they are very rare, for the tendency of the present breed is to drive and harry the sheep too much. They have one good dog on the run here, who knows every patch of poison-plant between Kendenup and the grazing-ground, and barks round it, keeping the sheep off it, till the whole flock has safely passed. This poison-plant—of which there are several kinds, some more deadly than others—is the bane of the colony. They say that sheep born in the colony know it, and impart their knowledge to their lambs, but that all imported sheep eat it readily and die at once.

The homestead is a nice, large, comfortable place with plenty of room for man and beast, including any stray bachelors and other wayfarers, who claim hospitality almost as a right in these isolated localities. Adjoining the homestead is a well-stocked store, at which everything can be bought, from lollypops to suits of clothing, and from which the shepherds obtain most of their supplies. There are also enclosures for wild horses, which are numerous, and are occasionally hunted and captured. Last night two were brought into the station. Of course every accommodation is provided for the care and treatment of sheep in the various stages of their existence, including the means of washing and shearing them. An orchard and fruit-garden close by yield tons of fruit every year for the merest scratching of the soil. To obtain labour is the difficulty. The birds, especially parrots, are terrible enemies to the fruit-crops. In the early morning one may see a tree laden with splendid fruit just ready to be gathered, and in an hour later the whole may be on the ground—not eaten, but simply thrown down, bruised and spoilt, by the birds. Although the thermometer fell to freezing-point last night, we had pomegranates at dessert which had been grown and ripened in the open air. Oranges and lemons grow well, and vines flourish, wine-making having been already tried with fair success in Western Australia.