SAIL FROM THE GASCOYNE.

March 20.

When we pulled out of the Gascoyne this morning the first streak of dawn had not lit up the eastern horizon, we however managed by creeping along the southern shore to get out to sea, and there anchored until it was light enough to see the compass. I found a very heavy sea running outside and a strong breeze blowing from the southward; at this time however there was nothing which in my opinion rendered it too hazardous to risk the passage, more especially being pressed as we were by the want of food. The distance across to Bernier Island from the point of the main where we were was about ten miles further than it is from Dover to Calais. Our boats were in very bad repair, and the landing on the other side was by no means good. I therefore certainly would not have ventured to make the passage in a gale of wind; but the weather did not seem threatening and it had been for many successive days blowing as hard as it was when we started.

CAUGHT IN A GALE OF WIND.

We might have gone nine or ten miles when the wind suddenly increased, and ere we had made five more it had become a perfect gale and we were obliged to keep the boats close hauled, for had we run ever so little before the wind we should not have fetched Bernier Island, and consequently should have been blown right out to sea. We had nothing therefore now to do but to struggle for it, and to use every energy to save ourselves. Sea after sea broke into the boat but the water was as rapidly baled out: none could have behaved better than the crews of both boats did, and the whole scene was one of such constant, cheerful, and successful exertion that, great as our danger was, I do not recollect ever having a keener perception of the pleasure of excited feelings, or a more thorough revelry of joyous emotions, than I had during this perilous passage.

REACH BERNIER ISLAND.

Bernier Island at last rose in sight and amidst the giant waves we occasionally caught a peep of its rocky shores; but we were so tossed to and fro that it was only now and then that from the summit of some lofty sea we could sight a high shore which was not more than four or five miles from us. We had made the island about five miles from its northern extremity, and I ran along the shore until I found a convenient landing-place about a mile and a half to the south of our old one.

CHANGE IN THE LAND.

It was perfectly sheltered by reefs and an island, but it surprised me that I had not remarked this cove on my previous visit to the island, and I was still further astonished to see now three new small rocky islands, of which I had no recollection whatever. Indeed the men all for a long time stoutly denied that this was Bernier Island and, had we not now sighted Kok’s Island, I should have doubted my skill in navigation and made up my mind that I had fallen into some strange error; but as it was forebodings shot across my wind as to what pranks the hurricane might have been playing upon the island, which consisted of nothing but loose sand heaped upon a bed of limestone rock of very unequal elevation.

I ran in my own boat upon a convenient point of the beach and the other boat followed in safety, for I did not like, in such foul weather, to leave them at anchor on a lee shore, which had previously proved so unsafe a position. A most awkward question now presented itself to my consideration: from the altered appearance of the coast I felt very considerable doubts as to the state in which the depot might be found; supposing anything had occurred to it I felt that it would be unadvisable that such a discovery should be made in the presence of many persons; as future discipline would in a great measure depend upon the first impression that was given. Who, then, had I better select for the purpose of visiting the depot in the first instance? After some deliberation I made choice of Mr. Smith and Corporal Coles, in the courage, disinterestedness, and self-possession of both of whom I placed great confidence. I directed Mr. Walker to see certain little alterations made in the boats before the men were allowed to straggle; these I knew would occupy them for some time and leave me therefore during this interval free to think and act according to circumstances. I now called Mr. Smith and Corporal Coles to accompany me, and told Coles to bring a spade with him.

DESTRUCTION OF THE DEPOT OF PROVISIONS. SYMPTOMS OF CALAMITY.

Before we had gone very far alarming symptoms met my eyes in the form of staves of flour casks scattered about amongst the rocks, and even high up on the sandhills. Coles however persisted that these wore so far inland that they could only have come from the flour casks which we had emptied before starting. I knew they were far too numerous for such to be the case, but I suppressed my opinion and made no remarks. We next came to a cask of salt provisions, washed high and dry at least twenty feet above the usual high-water mark: the sea had evidently not been near this for a long period as it was half covered with drift sand which must have taken some time to accumulate. This Coles easily accounted for, it was merely the cask which had been lost from the wreck of the Paul Pry. I still thought otherwise but said nothing.

At length we reached the spot where the depot had been made: so changed was it that both Mr. Smith and Coles persisted it was not the place; but on going to the shore there were some very remarkable rocks, on the top of which lay a flour cask more than half empty, with the head knocked out, but not otherwise injured; this also was washed up at least twenty feet of perpendicular elevation beyond high water mark. The dreadful certainty now flashed upon the minds of Mr. Smith and Coles, and I waited to see what effect it would have upon them. Coles did not bear the surprise so well as I had expected; he dashed the spade upon the ground with almost ferocious violence, and looking up to me he said, “All lost, Sir! we are all lost, Sir!” Mr. Smith stood utterly calm and unmoved; I had not calculated wrongly upon his courage and firmness. His answer to Coles was, “Nonsense, Coles, we shall do very well yet; why, there is a cask of salt provisions and half a cask of flour still left.”

I now rallied Coles upon his conduct; compared it with that of Mr. Smith, and told him that when I had taken him on to the depot in preference to the other men it had been in the expectation that, if any disaster had happened, he would, by his coolness and courage, have given such an example as would have exercised a salutary influence upon the others. This had the desired effect upon him; he became perfectly cool and collected and promised to make light of the misfortune to the rest, and to observe the strictest discipline. I then requested Mr. Smith to see the little flour that was left in the barrel and on the rocks carefully collected by Coles, and, leaving them thus engaged, I turned back along the sea shore towards the party; glad of the opportunity of being alone as I could now commune freely with my own thoughts.

ALARMING POSITION AND PROSPECTS. REPAIR DAMAGES, AND RETURN TO THE MAIN.

The safety of the whole party now depended upon my forming a prompt and efficient plan of operations, and seeing it carried out with energy and perseverance. As soon as I was out of sight of Mr. Smith and Coles I sat down upon a rock on the shore to reflect upon our present position. The view seawards was discouraging; the gale blew fiercely in my face and the spray of the breakers was dashed over me; nothing could be more gloomy and drear. I turned inland and could see only a bed of rock, covered with drifting sand, on which grew a stunted vegetation, and former experience had taught me that we could not hope to find water in this island; our position here was therefore untenable, and but three plans presented themselves to me: first, to leave a notice of my intentions on the island, then to make for some known point on the main and there endeavour to subsist ourselves until we should be found and taken off by the Colonial schooner; secondly, to start for Timor or Port Essington; thirdly, to try to make Swan River in the boats.

CONSOLATIONS OF RELIGION.

I determined not to decide hastily between these plans and, in order more fully to compose my mind, I sat down and read a few chapters in the Bible.

By the influence these imparted I became perfectly contented and resigned to our apparently wretched condition and, again rising up, pursued my way along the beach to the party. It may be here remarked by some that these statements of my attending to religious duties are irrelevant to the subject, but in such an opinion I cannot at all coincide. In detailing the sufferings we underwent it is necessary to relate the means by which those sufferings were alleviated; and after having, in the midst of perils and misfortunes, received the greatest consolation from religion, I should be ungrateful to my Maker not to acknowledge this, and should ill perform my duty to my fellow men did I not bear testimony to the fact that, under all the weightier sorrows and sufferings that our frail nature is liable to, a perfect reliance upon the goodness of God and the merits of our Redeemer will be found a sure refuge and a certain source of consolation.

In pursuing my route along the beach I carefully examined every heap of seaweed which the waves had thrown up, and was fortunate enough to find a bag of flour which had been washed up by the tide and held there by some rocks; though from daily soaking in salt water for several weeks it was quite spoilt and fermented, and smelt like beer; yet this, under present circumstances, was more valuable than its weight in gold. Just after I had found this bag, I met Ruston and another man coming from the boats to the depot; I at once told them exactly how matters stood; they bore the announcement better than I could have hoped for, and when I showed them that their safety altogether depended on their good conduct they promised the most implicit obedience and a ready cheerful demeanour. I must do Ruston the justice to say that under every trial he most scrupulously adhered to the promise he then made, and never infringed upon it in the slightest degree.

CONDUCT OF THE MEN.

When I reached the party and told the tale of the total disappearance of all we had left at the depot blank and dismayed faces met me on all sides. Mr. Walker and Corporal Auger set an excellent example to the others; but two men, of the names of Harry and Charley Woods, seized the first convenient opportunity of walking off to the place where our miserable remnant of damper was deposited with the intention of appropriating it to themselves. I only waited till they actually laid their hands upon it, when I stopped them, placed a sentry over what provisions were left, ordered a survey of all stores to be held, and a report to be made to me; and then went off with a party to search the shore in the hope of finding any other things which might have been washed up: our search however proved quite unsuccessful.

CHOICE OF PLANS.

I had warned the men that at sunset I would inform them what my intentions were with regard to our future movements; and in the meantime all hands were employed in searching for provisions or in preparing the boats for sea. A very gloomy prospect was before us: the men were already much reduced from illness, from using damaged provisions, and from hard work and exposure combined: our boats were in a very leaky unsound state, whilst all means of efficiently repairing them had been swept away in the hurricane. Add to this that the only provisions we had left really fit to eat were about nine days’ salt meat, at the rate of a pound a man per diem, and about sixty pounds of tolerably good flour.

It would be useless to detail the different reasons which induced me to adopt the plan of endeavouring to make Swan River in the whale boats; this was however the course I resolved to pursue. Its principal advantages were that we should be constantly approaching home; and that if any accident should happen to the boats we might always hope to reach Perth by walking: the principal objection to it was the prevalence of strong south-east winds. At sunset the party assembled. I detailed to them at considerable length the three most feasible plans which had offered themselves to me, the reasons which had made me reject two of them, as well as those which led me to adopt the third; and as I knew that there were two or three insubordinate characters amongst the men, whom I had picked up at Fremantle, I further told them that, if a sufficient number to man one of the boats objected to follow me, they could go their own way; as the success of my scheme would altogether depend upon the courage and subordination with which it was carried out. No dissentient voice was however raised, but they all promised to follow me wherever I might lead. We now made arrangements for searching for turtle during the night, and then stretched ourselves on the sand to try and sleep.

March 21.

We were unfortunate in not catching a turtle during the night; the season for them had however now passed away, so that we could only hope to cut off a stray one which might have lingered behind its fellows. The next day was occupied in sticking up a steer-oar with a tin canister attached to it, containing a letter in which was detailed the plan I intended to follow, so that in the event of any accident occurring, and our remaining on the coast, we might still have the chance of a vessel being sent to search for us. The men were occupied in looking for shellfish, drying the flour, and preparing the boats. It blew nearly a gale of wind from the south throughout the day.

RETURN TO THE MAIN.

March 22.

This day at two P.M., all our preparations having been completed and the wind somewhat moderated, we stood across the bay, and soon after nightfall made the main about twelve miles to the north of the northern mouth of the Gascoyne. The wind freshened a great deal during the night; but as it was impossible to beach boats on so dangerous a coast in the dark we were obliged to trust to the goodness of our anchors, and they did not disappoint us.

March 23.

Before dawn this morning we were under weigh and pulling dead to windward against a strong breeze and heavy sea; the men rowed almost without intermission until noon when, finding them completely exhausted, I made sail and stood in towards the shore. When we had approached the land about four miles to the north of the Gascoyne a party of natives came down, without their spears, in the most friendly manner, making signs to us to land. We had however but little time to spare, and could not afford to give them any provisions: knowing also the small dependence that can be placed upon them in a first interview, I thought it most prudent to decline their invitation.

COMPLETE OUR WATER.

We accordingly continued our route and in the course of the evening made the river, where we completed our water, and halted for the night. We saw nothing more of the natives here, but I feel convinced that in the event of a settlement being formed at this point no difficulty would be found in establishing and maintaining the most friendly relations with them.

ANCHOR TO THE NORTH OF THE GASCOYNE.

March 24.

The morning did not promise very well, but soon after sunrise the wind shifted so much to the westward that we were able to run along shore, and in the course of the day we made altogether about forty-five miles, tracing the greater part of the remaining unknown portion of the shores of Shark Bay. On leaving the Gascoyne, a low point bore due south of us, distant about twelve miles, which I named Point Greenough after George Bellas Greenough, Esquire, the president of the Royal Geographical Society; and between this point and the river lay a deep bay, the shores of which were low and thickly studded with mangroves, through which many saltwater creeks ran up into the country. Two of these creeks I had examined on a previous occasion, and therefore now paid no attention to them.

EXAMINE THE COAST TO THE SOUTHWARD. ITS CHARACTER.

After passing Point Greenough the shore trended south by east and for the next eight miles preserved its low character, being still thickly wooded with mangroves; but at this point a remarkable change takes place as the mangroves suddenly cease, and the low range of hills which extends southward along the coast parallel to the shore increases a little in height. In about another mile the mangroves again commence, the coast now trending south-east; and about five miles further it runs south-east by east, forming a bay about four miles deep, the bottom of which is tolerably clear of mangroves.

CONTINUE OUR COURSE TO THE SOUTHWARD.

Having crossed this bay we ran south-east by south parallel to the shore; the mangroves now became less continuous and numerous, at least they appeared to us to be so, and the range of hills seemed also to approach much nearer to the sea. We continued on this course until sunset, when I selected a snug little bay in the mangroves, where we anchored at the distance of a few yards from the shore and made ourselves as comfortable as we could for the night.

CHARACTER OF THE COAST AND SEA.

There was great beauty in the scenery which we saw during the day’s sail; the waters and the sky had that peculiar brilliancy about them which is only seen in fine weather and in a tropical climate. To the west of us lay an apparently boundless expanse of sea, whilst to the eastward we had a low shore fringed with trees, not only down to the water’s edge but forming little green knolls of foliage in the ocean itself; behind these trees lay low wooded hills, and in front of them stalked and swam about pelicans and waterfowl in countless numbers. We had only about three feet depth of clear transparent water, through which we saw that the flats beneath us were covered with vivid coloured shells of many genera, some of which were of a very large size; strange-looking fish of a variety of kinds were also sporting about; more particularly sharks of a new species (of that kind which I shot at in mistake for an alligator) and stingrays. Whenever a lull occurred the men, unable to resist the chance of getting a meal, would jump out of the boat, and give chase to one of these sting-rays, boat-hook in hand, and then loud peals of laughter rose from the others as the pursuer, too anxious to attain his object, missed his stroke or, stumbling, rolled headlong in the water. The fineness of the day, the novelty of the scenery, and the rapid way we were making made the poor fellows forget past dangers, as well as those they had yet to undergo. My own meditations were of a more melancholy character, for I feared that the days of some of the light-hearted group were already numbered and would soon be brought to a close. Amidst such scenes and thoughts we were swept along, whilst this unknown coast, which so many had anxiously yet vainly wished to see, passed before our eyes like a panorama or a dream, and, ere many years have hurried by it is probable that the recollection of this day will be as such to me.

BOAT LEFT AGROUND BY THE TIDE.

March 25.

This morning I was up early in order that we might lose no time in getting under weigh; I was much surprised however to find both boats aground, and when the day had dawned sufficiently to enable me to distinguish surrounding objects I could not make out the sea, but found that we were lodged in a regular mangrove bush. I walked a few yards to get a clear view to the westward and found that we were at least a mile inland, so far does the tide run in over this low level shore. My eyes were so sore that I could scarcely see and I therefore did not attempt to make an excursion into the country, but sent a party for this purpose, who ascended the first low range of hills and reported that the country as far as they could see to the eastward was a succession of low mud flats subject to the overflowings of the sea. There was a promising-looking creek immediately to the south of us.

The tide came very slowly in until ten o’clock, which was about the time of high-water: but here it had only half risen and remained stationary for some time, when it began to ebb again, but soon meeting the second flood, now came pouring rapidly in, and just before sunset there was water enough for us to get off. We pulled to a low point, distant about two miles, and which bore south by east from us; and having anchored off this waited for the morning dawn to pursue our voyage.

CONTINUE A SOUTHERLY COURSE.

March 26.

In the morning I found that the point we were anchored off ran south-east and north-west: it was about two miles long and formed a low spit of land whence the coast trended due south. I debated for a few minutes whether I should explore the creek which lay to the south of us, but decided in the negative. Had I followed my own wishes I should have done so, but the lives of others now depended on my incurring no unjustifiable delay, and it did not therefore appear to be of importance; besides, as we had now traced the unknown portions of this great bay, and had moreover discovered in it a country in every way fitted for immediate occupation, and which indeed appeared from its soil and position to be one of the most valuable portions of the western side of the Continent, I thought that everything worthy of any great risk or danger had been accomplished, and resolved to hurry homewards.

STEER FROM THE MAIN.

After following the coast for a few miles further to the south I considered we were now far enough to windward to fetch somewhere near the centre of Perron’s Peninsula; I therefore made sail and steered for that point.

ANOTHER GALE OF WIND.

Our passage across was a long and tedious one, and when at last towards evening we sighted Perron’s Peninsula it was very evident that my boat would not do more than fetch the very northern point, but the other boat, which was a much better sailer, was nearly a mile to windward of us. The weather had been for the last hour or two very threatening, and we had reached to within two miles of the shore when the wind suddenly shifted to the south-west and began to blow a terrific gale. We had just time to down sail and take to the oars, and as every one of the crew saw that his life depended on it they gave way strenuously. We were under the lee of the Peninsula and had it not been for this circumstance must undoubtedly have been lost. That gale of wind was a terrible and magnificent sight. I stood at the steer oar; the waves lifted the boat each time nearly broadside on, and it was all I could do to bring her head round in time to meet the next sea, but the men pulled steadily. “Now men, give way for your lives,” I called out if they flagged, and renewed energy was instantly infused into all of them. At times we could not hold our own against the wind and waves, and at the most favourable moments seemed merely to stand still. I looked at the shore until my eyes ached; but no nearer did it appear to be than at first, and gradually grew less distinct as the daylight faded. We could only see the other boat now and then; but although she was evidently in imminent peril they were much nearer in shore than we were. The danger we underwent on this occasion was great; but the excitement of so wild and grand a scene was highly pleasurable, and when success at last crowned our exertions, and we went dancing wildly in through the surf and spray upon a rocky unknown shore, and found the other crew on the beach ready to help us in hauling up, I felt that there is a charm attached to scenes like these which can only be fully estimated by those who have experienced it. Having in our turn assisted to haul up the other boat we lighted our fires and laid down for the night.

PERRON’S PENINSULA.

March 27.

This morning I found that all our hands were so fatigued by the exertions of the previous day that a few hours of comparative rest was absolutely necessary. I therefore directed them to stroll about the beach for an hour or two and to collect oysters or shellfish. The part of Perron’s Peninsula which we were on consists of abrupt cliffs of the height of about two hundred feet; at the base of these and between them and the sea there is a narrow strip of sandy land and dunes, and at their summit is a barren sandy tableland, gently sloping away to the southward and appearing to extend throughout the whole length of the peninsula.

As soon as I thought the men were sufficiently rested we launched the boats, but on rounding the northern extremity of the peninsula met a heavy sea running from the southward and were obliged to take to the oars. We had not got more than two miles to the southward of Cape Leseuer when I saw so many indications of an approaching gale that I ran in again and beached the boats; and this operation was hardly accomplished ere it blew with terrific violence from the south-south-west. Both here and at our last night’s encampment we saw numerous signs of natives, and now found several native wells in the sandhills, but had no occasion to use them as we had regular tropical rain for the rest of the day. The men here brought me the bones of a very large marine animal which they had found at the natives’ fire, but I could not recognise them as belonging to any that I was acquainted with. At this period, from bad food and being constantly wet with salt water, we were all afflicted with sores of the most painful and annoying character, and these much increased the unpleasantness of our situation.

ANOTHER GALE.

March 28.

This morning the weather looked tolerably fine; I therefore ordered the boats to be launched and, after pulling a few miles to windward along Perron’s Peninsula, we struck across for Dirk Hartog’s Island; our former ill-luck however still attended us, for just as we were making the land another fearful gale from the south-south-west came on, and had we not had the good luck to have got under the lee of the Coin de Mire of the French we must infallibly have been wrecked; as it was we pulled along under this promontory and beached the boats in a little bay at its north-west extremity. Nothing but absolute necessity could however have induced me to take such a step, for the place was rocky and difficult of access, with a heavy surf breaking on the beach. The rain fell in torrents during the greater part of the evening, and the men spent the time in searching for oysters and shellfish with which to appease their hunger. The rain which had fallen during the last two days had a very injurious effect upon some of us, for, our clothes having been lost with the other things which were swept away from the depot during the hurricane of the first of March, we were very insufficiently clad.

DIRK HARTOG’S ISLAND.

March 29.

The weather this morning being very foul I occupied myself in making a survey of a portion of Dirk Hartog’s Island, which is of a very barren nature, though rather better than either Bernier or Dorre Islands, but for many years to come it must be utterly useless. It looks exactly like a Scottish heath; and I have no doubt whatever that water would be found by digging on it; but as we could have obtained plenty from large holes in the rocks we did not make the attempt. Whilst I was occupied in this examination of the island the wind shifted suddenly to the north-west and I hurried back to the party in order not to lose so favourable an opportunity.

On arriving at the boats I found that the water had not been completed, nor had three days’ provisions (such as they were) been cooked, although I had left orders when I went away that these necessary preparations for our moving should immediately be made; this gave me another reason to suspect that, during my temporary absence from the party, discipline was now altogether neglected, and indeed treated as an unnecessary restraint under existing circumstances. Mr. Smith had warned me that such was the case, and I therefore never separated myself from any portion of the party without great anxiety; for I well knew that the safety of all depended upon preserving the strictest subordination.

In this instance however I merely ordered the boats to be instantly launched; for I knew that to lose a fair wind in our present situation would be rashness; and we were soon bounding before the breeze. The wind now continued fair and at nightfall we landed on the main in such a position as to look out to the open sea, through the passage between Steep Point and Dirk Hartog’s Island.

PERILOUS COASTING.

March 30.

This morning we pulled up the opening and found a perfect bubble of a sea running into it and breaking on the various reefs which lie in its mouth. We then made an attempt to pull round Steep Point and succeeded in getting out to sea; but there was a formidable swell setting dead on the shore and drifting us rapidly in towards it, whilst in the event of being stranded nothing could have saved our lives for the surf was so tremendous that the boat must instantly have gone to pieces, and the lofty limestone cliffs were perfectly inaccessible, being hollowed out into deep caverns by the action of the waves. The attempt to get along this coast appeared indeed to be so hazardous that even the old sailors who were with me begged me not to risk it, but rather to allow them to endeavour to walk overland to Perth. I was well aware that had I attempted to do this at least half the party would have been lost; for but few men can support the fatigue of making long and continuous marches in a very warm climate in which a great scarcity of water prevails.

SHELTER UNDER A REEF.

I however humoured them so far as to put back for the mouth of the opening, where, under the shelter of a reef, we could lie at anchor for a few hours in the hope that the sea would lull a little; we however only just cleared Steep Point, and whilst doing so I felt certain for two or three minutes that we must have gone ashore, for each breaker lifted the boat bodily towards the cliffs; as it was however it pleased Providence to bring us safe to our anchorage.

We were now about to enter on the most perilous part of our journey homewards. For the next one hundred and twenty miles along the coast I could not hope to find a place whereon to beach the boats, in the event of our meeting with those unfavourable winds which we had hitherto found so prevalent. It would, in the present weak state of the party, take us many successive days to make this passage; and, should the weather be really foul, accompanied by strong gales from the south-west, our fate would soon have been decided. Nevertheless our hope of ultimate safety rested altogether upon the accomplishment of the difficult task we were about to commence.

INSUBORDINATION CHECKED.

I soon found that remaining in a state of inactivity would but increase our difficulties; for as the men talked over them to one another, they grew wore and more gloomy, and when at length I gave a particular order to a man of the name of Woods he quietly refused to obey it, saying that he now considered that his life was altogether lost, and that he would therefore knock off work. I was rather puzzled for a minute or two as to how I ought to act under these circumstances, for such an example as he had set necessarily exercised a bad influence over the others; yet there was no use in threatening to punish where I had not the means to do so; I therefore merely turned round to the man who had the charge of sharing out our scanty allowance of provisions and desired him to divide Woods’ portion of water and provisions amongst the rest of us today, as I intended for the future that he should have none, at all events not until he did his fair share of work. This had the desired effect; he soon came to his senses and told me that I might as well throw him overboard at once as starve him, to which I replied that unless he overcame his cowardice and bore his proportion of the toil we all had to go through I should in no way whatever interfere with his starving, being thrown overboard, or anything else; but that I would take very good care that he had neither a morsel to eat or a drop of water to drink; whereupon he again resumed his duty and from that time forward proved to be one of the best men I had with me; indeed I never again had occasion to find fault with him.

Seeing however what a pernicious effect this delay was likely to produce I determined at once to cope with those difficulties, which we must either overcome or perish; and accordingly round Steep Point we again went, and for the rest of this evening and night contended with the heavy sea as well as we could, keeping about a mile from the shore, sometimes pulling and sometimes getting a favourable slant of wind.

March 31.

This day we continued our course, tracing out the shore. A small piece of raw pork was served out to each man; and I found this to be a very nice and palatable morsel; it however increased our thirst, which, as we were upon very short allowance of water, was rather a disadvantage; but it was absolutely necessary that we should take some nourishment.

CHARACTER OF THE SHORE.

The country hereabouts is very uninviting, consisting of a high range of barren limestone hills, ascending gradually from steep cliffs which form the coastline. These hills are of such equal elevation that they have a monotonous as well as barren appearance, and are rent in places by deep rocky gullies which run down into the sea. No change whatever took place in the character of the coast throughout our day’s ruin, nor did I see a spot where a boat could land. I did not close my eyes during Sunday night, for we were still in a most perilous position, and I felt that whilst we were on so dangerous a coast with a foul wind it was my duty to keep upon the alert as long as wearied nature would admit of my so doing.

As soon as there was sufficient light for me to distinguish the coastline I found that it was somewhat losing its monotonous character by breaking into more detached hills; and about ten A.M., we reached the northern extremity of Gantheaume Bay.

TO GANTHEAUME BAY.

The men being now completely worn out by want of rest, incessant exertion, and the mental anxiety they had undergone in the last fifty-six hours, during the whole of which time they had been in actual danger, I determined to attempt a landing in Gantheaume Bay, and therefore pulled along shore with the intention of finding a spot where we could easily land and yet be near a place likely to afford us water; for notwithstanding the economy we had practised none now was left. I soon came to an opening in the bay which I thought would suit our purpose, but Ruston, on whose opinion in such matters I placed great reliance, reported it to be utterly impracticable; we still therefore pulled along the shore, and found it lashed throughout its whole extent by a fearful surf. The south end of the bay, although protected by a reef, had just as heavy a surf breaking on it as any other part of the shore and was also very rocky, we therefore turned back to a sandy beach which we had passed in pulling round the bay and, having carefully examined this, it appeared in every way suited to our purpose, so we committed ourselves to the mercy of the breakers and in we went. As I stood at the steer-oar I saw that this was a heavier surf than we had ever yet been in. We were swept along at a terrific rate, and yet it appeared as if each following wave must engulf us, so lofty were they, and so rapidly did they pour on.

WRECK OF ONE OF THE BOATS.

At length we reached the point where the waves broke; the breaker that we were on curled up in the air, lifting the boat with it, and when we had gained the summit I looked down from a great height, not upon water, but upon a bare, sharp, black rock. For one second the boat hung upon the top of the wave; in the next I felt the sensation of falling rapidly, then a tremendous shock and crash which jerked me away amongst rocks and breakers, and for the few following seconds I heard nothing but the din of waves whilst I was rolling about amongst men, and a torn boat, oars, and water-kegs, in such a manner that I could not collect my senses.

END OF VOLUME 1.