Chapter 2: 2 (1)

Sail from Cape York. Mount Ernest described. Find Kalkalega tribe on Sue Island. Friendly reception at Darnley Island, and proceedings there. Bramble Cay and its turtle. Stay at Redscar Bay. Further description of the natives, their canoes, etc. Pass along the South-east coast of New Guinea. Call at Duchateau Islands. Passage to Sydney. Observations on Geology and Ethnology. Origin of the Australians considered.

SAIL FROM CAPE YORK.

December 3rd.

At length we have bade a final adieu to Cape York, after a stay of upwards of two months, which have passed away very pleasantly to such of us as were in the habit of making excursions in the bush, or who spent much of their time on shore. We are now on our way to Sydney, by way of Torres Strait, New Guinea and the Louisiade, chiefly for the purpose of running another set of meridian distances, the position of Cape York being now sufficiently well determined to serve as a secondary meridian, one of the starting points of the survey. The natives learned at daylight that we were to leave them in a few hours, so in order to make the most of their last opportunity of getting bisiker and choka, they hauled a large canoe across the dry sands after much trouble, and under the direction of Baki, who affected great grief at the prospect of parting with us, went off to the ship.

MOUNT ERNEST.

We sailed at 8 A.M. for Mount Ernest--at which place a round of theodolite angles was required--and in the afternoon anchored off its south-western side in nine fathoms, one mile off shore. A solitary native was seen at work upon a canoe near the beach, but when a boat approached the shore he withdrew. The canoe was about half finished, and close by was a small shed of bamboo thatched with grass. After crossing a small sandy plain covered with short grass growing in tufts, we met the native on the edge of a brush to which he had slowly retired in order to pick up his spears and throwing-stick, both of which were precisely similar to those of Cape York, from which place they had probably been procured. He was a quiet, sedate, good-natured old man, and although at first rather shy he soon laid aside his fears on receiving assurances in the Kowrarega language, which he understood, that markai poud Kulkalaig Nagir (the white men are friends of the Kulkalega tribe of Mount Ernest) backed by a present of some biscuit and a knife. On subsequent occasions, when accompanying us from place to place, the quiet listless apathy of the old fellow was a source of some amusement. He did what was told him, and exhibited little curiosity, and scarcely any surprise at the many wonderful things we showed him--such as shooting birds with a gun, and procuring a light from a lucifer match.

MOUNT ERNEST DESCRIBED.

On the following day I had an opportunity of examining the whole of the northern or inhabited side of the island. Mount Ernest is little more than a mile in greatest length, of a somewhat triangular shape, its eastern and larger portion hilly, rising gradually to an elevation of 751 feet, and its western part low and sandy. The rock is grey sienite, and from the striking similarity of aspect, it appeared to me pretty certain that Pole, Burke, and Banks Islands are of the same formation; they agree in exhibiting massive peaks, respectively 409, 490, and 1,246 feet in height.

Mount Ernest is the headquarters of the Kulkalega tribe of Torres Strait Islanders who are now absent on one of their periodical migrations, leaving in possession only the old man whom we met yesterday, and his family, among whom is a daughter of rather prepossessing appearance for a female of her race. The village consists of a single line of huts, which would furnish accommodation for, probably, 150 people. It is situated on the north-west, or leeward side of the island, immediately behind the beach, and in front of a belt of jungle. The huts are long and low, with an arched roof, and vary in length from ten to twenty feet, with an average height of five feet, and a width of six. They consist of a neat framework of strips of bamboo, thatched with long coarse grass. Each hut is usually situated in a small well-fenced enclosure, and opposite to it on the beach is the cooking place, consisting of a small shed, under which the fire is made. We saw indications of many turtle having lately been cooked here upon a framework of sticks over a small fire, precisely as is practised by the natives of New Guinea and the Louisiade Archipelago.

SIGNS OF CULTIVATION.

The strip of forest behind the village is traversed in every direction by well beaten paths, chiefly leading to the back part of the island, where, on the slope of a hill in good soil, we found many patches of rude cultivation. The chief plant is a broad-leaved species of yam, trained upon tall poles kept in position by cross bamboos, forming a framework divided into little squares, each of which contains a plant. A species of Calladium with an esculent root is also much cultivated; it is planted in regular rows with the earth heaped up in ridges, as in a potato or turnip field at home. I noticed some small plots of ground prepared with more than usual care for the growth of what Giaom told me was a herb used as tobacco; the young plants were protected from the sun with pieces of matting.

COLLECTION OF HUMAN SKULLS.

Not far from the village, under the shade of an aged mimusops tree on the outskirts of the wood, we observed a cleared oval space where ten human skulls--of former members of the tribe, as we were informed--were arranged upon a plank raised on stones a foot or so from the ground. The skulls were mostly old and weather-worn, and some of them had pandanus seeds stuck in the orbits by way of eyes. In front was a large smooth stone painted red and black, and partially embedded in the earth, and beside it were some painted human leg and arm bones, shells and other ornaments. Behind, some thirty or forty skulls of turtle were arranged on the ground in several rows forming a triangle.

CURIOUS SCREEN.

In a beautiful opening among the trees behind the village we saw an extraordinary screen--named wows--the purpose of which, so far as we could understand, had some connection with the memory of the dead. It extended fifty-six feet in length, with a slight outward curvature, and measured five feet and a half in height. It was formed of a row of poles stuck in the ground, crossed in front by three horizontal strips of bamboo, and covered with cross latticework. The bars of the screen were daubed over with red paint, and hung with rows of spider-shells also painted red. Some poles projecting above the others two to four feet had painted jaws of the dugong and large conch shells (Fusus proboscidiferus) fixed to the top, and numerous other dugong bones and shells were scattered along the front. On the ground along the foot of the screen was a row of stones painted with black and red in imitation of grotesque faces, and to several of these the old man who acted as cicerone attached the names of persons who were dead. In some the painting was comparatively recent, and the stones appeared to have been placed there singly at different periods to commemorate the death of the heads of families of the tribe. We saw another of these curious funeral screens--like the first one it was situated in a little glade in the forest, but unlike it the front was covered or thatched with coconut leaves, and it had a small door-like opening in the centre.

The natives must have left the island either on account of its being now the turtling season, or else from the want of water. A small deep well behind the village, apparently the only one in the place, was almost entirely dried up. From the old man I procured the names of some of the neighbouring islands, and also a few other Kulkalega words which are so similar to those of the Kowrarega language as to corroborate Giaom's assertion that both have many words in common. By way of illustration I may give a few examples. Thus muto, small bird; kudulug, dove; geinow, pigeon; kakur, egg; burda, grass; waraba, coconut; moda, enclosure round the huts.

At one place I saw indications of an upheaval of the northern side of the island in a bed of coral conglomerate six feet thick, with its raised wall-like edge towards the hill as if tilted up, and the remainder sloping down towards the sea. A similar appearance on a small scale exists on most of the coral islands which I have visited, but I had not before seen these sloping beds above the influence of the salt water, or at least beyond reach of the spray, still less supporting luxuriant vegetation, consisting in the present instance of a large extent of jungle, with trees often of great size, and a dense growth of underwood.

PRODUCTIONS OF THE ISLAND.

Among the natural productions of the island I may first allude to the large thickets of bamboo scattered along the base of the hill as the first new feature in the vegetation, and secondly, to the small Eucalypti growing between the hill and the brushes, as this is the most northerly limit of that Australian genus known to me. Among the trees of the brushes I may mention the Anacardium, or cashew nut, with large red acrid fruit, Mimusops kaukii, often attaining a great size, and a species of Bombax, or silk-cotton tree, from the trunk of one of which the canoe we saw upon the beach was being constructed.

Of birds the Australian quail, Torres Strait pigeon, and brown dove were plentiful, and afforded good sport to the shooters; Pitta strepitans (a handsome thrush-like bird of gaudy colours--red, green, blue and black) was heard calling in every brush and thicket. Several large lizards were seen; one of these, about four feet in length, perched upon the fence of one of the deserted huts, at first took so little notice of my approach that I refrained from shooting it, thinking it had been tamed. The colour of this lizard (Monitor gouldii) is a dull bluish green, spotted and variegated with yellow. It is much esteemed as food, and the skin is used for covering the warup or New Guinea drum.

SUE ISLAND.

December 7th.

In the morning a canoe, with seven men in it, came off to the ship from Sue Island, near which we were at anchor. At first they approached cautiously, holding up pieces of tortoise-shell, and making a great noise, shouting out, "kaisu (tortoise-shell) kapo-bue--kapo-buai--poud--poud," etc., besides other words which were unintelligible, pointing at the same time to the island (which they called Waraber) as if inviting us to land.

KULKALEGA TRIBE OF NATIVES.

These blacks belonged to the Kulkalega or Kulkalaig tribe, as was ascertained by Giaom, who was well-known to some of them, and understood enough of their language to keep up a conversation. Nearly the whole tribe, she was informed, are now upon Sue Island, although their headquarters are, as mentioned before, at Mount Ernest. The men in the canoe differed in no material respect from the natives of the Prince of Wales Islands on one hand, and those of Darnley Island on the other. Many had the characteristic faint oval scar on one shoulder, some wore the hair in moderately long pipe-like ringlets, while others had it cut close. All were perfectly naked, and the only ornaments worn were the large round pearl-shell on the breast. The canoe was rather singular in form, with greater beam than I had ever seen in one, nor did the sides tumble home as usual; the bow was sharp, but the stern square, as if effected by cutting a very large canoe in halves, and filling up the open end. We saw several bamboo bows and bundles of arrows, stowed away under the platform; these the natives would not part with, but a large quantity of very fine tortoise-shell was obtained, chiefly in exchange for leaf tobacco, which they know by the name of sugub.

When the tide slackened we got underweigh, and the natives returned to their island. Sue, although the largest of the Three Sisters, is not more than the third of a mile in length. Like all the islands of the eastern side of Torres Strait, with the exception of the Darnley and Murray Islands, this is of the coral sand formation, low and thickly wooded. Some coconut-trees grow at the west end of the island, where there is a native village which we approached close enough to have a good view of it with the spy-glass. It consisted of several long huts, thatched with grass, which apparently are not much used during the daytime, as we saw no one entering or coming out of them. Many of the people, both men and women, ran down to the beach, waving green branches to induce us to land; others were sitting down under temporary sheds made by stretching large mats--the sails of their canoes--over a framework of sticks. The inside of one large enclosure was concealed by a fence six feet high, and an adjacent shed, under which some cooking was going on, was completely covered with some recent shells of turtle, apparently about thirty in number. Three very large canoes were hauled up on the beach, protected from the sun by matting, and two smaller ones were kept afloat. There appeared to be about 60 people upon the island, from which, and other circumstances, I do not suppose the Kulkalega tribe to consist of more than 100 souls. The women whom we saw wore loose petticoats of leaves reaching to below the knees.

The ship worked up through the channel between Bet and Sue Islands, and anchored for the night off the eastern extreme of the reef running out from the former. Four large canoes coming from the northward passed over the reef at high-water, going towards Sue Island.

LAND ON ARDEN ISLAND.

Next day we passed Coconut Island on our right, and Dove Island on our left, and anchored near Arden Island, where we landed on the following morning before daylight with a seining party. The place is scarcely more than a quarter of a mile in length, low and sandy, covered with tall bushes and a few clumps of trees (Pisonia grandis). We saw traces--but none very recent--of visits paid by the natives, indicated by remains of fires, turtle bones, a large pit dug as a well, and two old graves. As usual a coral reef extends from the shore, without leaving a clear spot of sufficient size to admit of the seine being hauled. Species of Cissus and two or three Capparidae constituted the bulk of the vegetation, and rendered the low scrub almost impervious in many places. A number of Torres Strait pigeons, chiefly young birds, and some stone-plovers and other waders, were shot, and one rare bird was obtained for the collection, a male of Pachycephala melanura. Soon after our return we got underweigh, passed on our right Rennel, Marsden, and Keat Islands, and anchored three miles to the northward of the last of these.

NATIVES COME ON BOARD.

December 10th.

While getting underweigh, a canoe with a party of natives from Stephens Island came off to us in a very confident manner, and at once called out for a rope (laga) with which they made fast to the ship. Among them were two of the natives of Darnley Island, one of whom, Dzum, soon recognised me as an old acquaintance, under the name of Dzoka, by which I had formerly been known on shore during the Fly's visits. They had a few coconuts, and a little tortoise-shell for barter, and were very urgent that the ship should go to Campbell Island on her way to Darnley, promising us abundance of water, coconuts, yams, and tortoise-shell, of the first of which at least they could have had none to spare. In the evening they left us, after spending the greater part of the day on board, with their canoe towing astern. I found the native names of at least three of the islands to differ from those given in the Admiralty's chart of Torres Strait from the Fly's survey. Thus Nepean Island is Edugor, not Oogar--Stephens Island is Ugar and not Attagor--and Campbell Island is Zapker (nearly as Lewis makes it) and not Jarmuth. These names were obtained under circumstances which obviated the possibility of mistake. Dzum also gave much information regarding other matters, and enabled me to fix the limits of the tribe to which he belonged, a matter which had frequently puzzled me before. In the afternoon the Bramble--as told to us by the natives--appeared in sight, but we could not reach Darnley Island, so anchored after dark in forty-five fathoms, mud, seven miles to the northward of it.

December 11th.

A light air from the North-West carried us up to the anchorage in Treacherous Bay about noon. A canoe from the village of Kiriam came off to us, and lay under our stern bartering tortoise-shell for knives, axes, and tobacco, and when we shoved off in the first cutter to communicate with the shore, one of the natives, on being asked to accompany us, jumped into the water without a moment's hesitation, and swam to the boat. We landed at Kiriam, and were received by a crowd of people on the rocks and in the water.

ARE RECEIVED IN A FRIENDLY MANNER.

My old friend Siwai, with whom I had gone through the ceremony of exchanging names nearly five years ago, showed much joy at seeing me again, and made many enquiries regarding Jukes and others then in the Fly. But these five years have sadly altered him--he now presents the appearance of a feeble emaciated man prematurely old, with a short cough and low voice--his back is bowed down, and even with the aid of a stick he can scarcely totter along. He is now the man in most authority in the island, his rival Mamus having been killed in New Guinea in company with several other Darnley Islanders whose names were mentioned to me; they had been on a visit to a friendly tribe, one of whose quarrels they espoused, and only a few returned to Errub to tell the tale. The natives wished us to stay at Kiriam, but as the principal object of the ship's coming to the island was to procure water, we were anxious to know whether it could be obtained in sufficient quantity at Bikar, where the Fly and Bramble had watered before. As Siwai told us that there was none at Bikar, but plenty at Mogor--his own village--we pulled along to the latter place, accompanied by himself and three of his sons. In passing along the south-west side of the island, we were struck with the superior richness of vegetation and apparent fertility, compared with what we had seen in New Guinea and the Louisiade Archipelago during the previous part of the cruise. Some portions reminded one of English park scenery--gently sloping, undulating, grassy hills, with scattered clumps and lines of trees.

UNABLE TO FIND WATER.

On landing at the village, which consists of two or three houses only, we were taken a quarter of a mile--by a path leading along a small valley through a grove of coconut-trees, bananas, and various cultivated plants (among which I observed the Mango in full bearing) to a pool of water in the dried-up bed of a small rivulet. But the quantity of water was not enough for our purpose, even had it been situated in a place more easy of access. Some magnificent Sago palms overhung the water with their large spreading fronds; these we were told had been brought from Dowde or New Guinea, many years ago. Siwai and his sons, at their own urgent request, were allowed a passage with us to the ship, and remained all night there, sleeping among the folds of a sail upon the poop.

December 12th.

In the morning a party landed at Bikar (abreast of the ship) to look for water, but the pool which on several occasions supplied the Fly, Bramble, and Prince George, was now dry. At this season too, during the prevalence of North-West winds, landing is difficult on account of the surf, and we had much trouble in keeping our guns dry while up to the waist in water. In the afternoon both cutters were sent to Mogor to procure vegetables for the ship's company by barter with the natives, and I accompanied the party, but, contrary to expectation, no one was allowed to land, the person in authority having seen something on shore to alarm him, the nature of which continued to us a mystery. The second cutter laid off, and the first remained in water about knee-deep, surrounded by a crowd of unarmed natives. The scene was at that time very animated--groups of men, women, and children, were to be seen staggering under a load of coconuts, wading out to the boats, scrambling to be first served, and shouting out to attract attention to their wares, which in addition included some tortoise-shell, a few yams, bananas and mangos. Siwai was present in the boat, and by exercising his authority in our behalf, matters went on more smoothly than otherwise might have been the case. A large supply of coconuts and a few vegetables having been obtained for axes, knives, calico, and red cloth, we returned to the ship.

BARTERING SCENE.

December 13th.

Three boats were sent to Kiriam to procure more coconuts. There being no prohibition of landing, I remained onshore during the bartering, sitting in a shady place among a group of women and children, and employed in procuring materials for a vocabulary. Most of them remembered me of old, and in consequence fancied they had a claim upon my tobacco, the stock of which was quickly exhausted.

INTERIOR OF A HUT.

The huts of Darnley Island--together with the inhabitants--have been so fully described in the voyage of the Fly, that it is unnecessary for me to enter upon the subject. The natives always objected to show to us the inside of their huts, many of which we knew were used as dead houses--but Mr. Huxley today was fortunate enough to induce one of them to allow him to enter his house, and make a sketch of the interior, but not until he had given him an axe as an admission fee. These huts resemble a great beehive in shape--a central pole projects beyond the roof, and to this is connected a framework of bamboo, thatched with grass, leaving a single small low entrance to serve as door and window.

HUMAN SKULLS OFFERED FOR SALE.

Several human skulls were brought down for sale, also a little shrivelled mummy of a child. Some of the former had the skin quite perfect, the nose artificially restored in clay mixed with a resinous substance, and the orbits occupied by a diamond-shaped piece of mother-of-pearl, with a black central mark. Towards the end of the bartering the natives had become very noisy, and even insolent, and everything seemed to indicate that some at least of them were dissatisfied, and inclined to resent some injury or cause of offence, for which purpose apparently they had their bows and arrows ready, and their gauntlets upon the left forearm. Some of them desired me to get into the boat and be off, intended as I understood for a friendly caution, while Dzum came up with an air of profound mystery, wishing me to come with him (now that I was alone) to a neighbouring hut to see a barit which he had brought over for me from Stephens Island. This name is applied to the opossums of the genus Cuscus which the Torres Strait Islanders occasionally procure from New Guinea. However it was time for me to be off, so I contented myself with promising a large reward for the animal if taken off to the ship. The produce of our barter on this and previous occasions amounted to 467 coconuts, 388 pounds of yams* (then very scarce) and 159 pounds of bananas.

(*Footnote. Not less than nine different kinds of yams and yam-like tubers--including the sweet-potato--are cultivated in Torres Strait, and are specially distinguished by name.)

DZUM AND THE BARIT.

While at dinner news was brought that Dzum was under the stern in a canoe, shouting out loudly for Dzoka, and, on going up I found that he had brought off the barit, which, after a great deal of trouble, I struck a bargain for, and obtained. It was a very fine specimen of Cuscus maculatus, quite tame, and kept in a large cage of split bamboo. Dzum seemed very unwilling to part with the animal, and repeatedly enjoined me to take great care of it and feed it well, which to please him I promised to do, although I valued it merely for its skin, and was resolved to kill it for that purpose at my first convenience. He had also brought a basketful of yams of an inferior quality, as sea stock for the barit during the voyage, and promised more on the following morning.

ANCHOR OFF BRAMBLE CAY.

December 16th.

Two days ago we left Darnley Island for Bramble Cay, distant about thirty miles North-East, but owing to calms and light winds had to anchor twice. A strong North-West breeze which came on last night, and caused us to drag the stream anchor, at length brought us up to our destination, near which we anchored in 25 fathoms, sand, the island bearing North-West 1/2 West distant a mile and a quarter. In the afternoon I landed for an hour, passing many turtles on the water both going and returning. As usual the islet was covered with seabirds, only two species, however, of which were breeding. The Brown Booby (Sula fusca) and a large tern (Thalasseus pelecanoides) existed in about equal numbers; the latter, in one great colony, had laid their solitary large speckled eggs in a slight excavation in the sand, the former were scattered all over the island, and had regular nests of weed, containing either two eggs, or a single young bird covered with white down. Well does the booby deserve its name. The grotesque and stupid look of the old bird standing by its eggs or young--irresolute whether to defend them or not, and staring with an intensely droll expression at the intruders--is very amusing; at length on being too closely approached, it generally disgorges the contents of its stomach--consisting at this time of very fine flying-fish--and after some half shuffling, half flying movements, manages to get on wing and be off. As the tern's eggs were within a short time of being hatched we broke all we saw in order to ensure some newly-laid ones in a day or two.

CAPTURE MANY TURTLES.

We remained at this anchorage for the two following days, during which time the weather was generally gloomy and unsettled, with occasional heavy rain. As numerous recent tracks of turtles upon the sandy beach indicated that the season had not yet ended, parties were sent on shore to watch for them after dark, and although only one was taken on the first night, yet on the following not less than eighteen were secured and brought off: fifteen of them were of the green, and three of the hawksbill kind. The last, I believe, is undescribed: it is certainly not the one (Caretta imbricata) producing the greater part of the tortoise-shell of commerce, and which is not rare in Torres Strait, distinguished by having the posterior angle of each dorsal plate projecting, so as to give a serrated appearance to the margin of the carapace which, in the present species is quite smooth. The green turtle averaged 350 pounds each, and the hawksbills about 250 pounds. Although a strong prejudice existed against the hawksbill as an article of food, we all found reason to change our minds, and pronounce it to be at least equal to the other. The newly-hatched turtles (all hawksbills) were running about in every direction, and among their numerous enemies, I was surprised to see a burrowing crab (Ocypoda cursor) which runs with great swiftness along the sandy beaches. These crabs even carried off a plover which I had shot, not allowing more than ten minutes to elapse before one of them had it safely (as it thought) stowed away in its burrow.

The golden plover was plentiful on the island during our visit, and one afternoon I killed fifteen in about an hour. Two days after the terns' eggs had been broken we found a small colony of laying birds, and picked up some dozens of eggs; and had we remained a few days longer, doubtless a very great number might have been procured. The weed which in the Fly we used to call spinach (a species of Boerhaavia, apparently B. diffusa) being abundant here, was at my suggestion collected in large quantity for the use of the ship's company as a vegetable, but it did not seem to be generally liked.

December 21st.

Two days ago we left Bramble Cay for Cape Possession in New Guinea, with a fine breeze from the North-West, and next morning at daylight saw the land about the Cape on the weather-beam. The wind, however, died away in the afternoon, but this morning a light north-westerly breeze sprang up, before which we bore up and were brought in the afternoon to an anchorage in 11 fathoms, mud, half a mile to leeward of the Pariwara Islands.

ARRIVE AT REDSCAR BAY.

Meanwhile Lieutenant Yule, upon our destination being changed, was ordered by signal to proceed to Cape Direction and survey the intermediate space between that and Redscar Bay, in order to connect his former continuation of the Fly's work with ours, and thus complete the coastline of the whole of the south-east part of New Guinea.

We remained at this anchorage for upwards of a week, during which a rate for the chronometers was obtained, and the Bramble returned.

WEATHER DURING WESTERLY MONSOON.

The weather during our stay was very variable and unsettled; rain fell on several occasions. The wind was usually from the westward, varying between North-West and South-West, and on one occasion during the night we had a sudden and very violent squall from the westward, which for a time was thought to be the beginning of a hurricane, but the gale moderated very gradually next day. When the wind during the day was light and from seaward, a land breeze generally came off at night, occasionally with rain. The cause of this last seems to be the influence exerted upon the winds here by Mount Owen Stanley and the ranges connected with it, from which the clouds accumulated during the prevalence of the seabreeze, are reflected after its subsidence. The low and well wooded district between the mountains and the sea receives the passing influence of these clouds surcharged with moisture, and the climate there and in all the low maritime districts of the south-east part of New Guinea backed by high land, is probably always a moist one, little affected by the prevalence of either the North-West or South-East monsoon. The observations made during our last visit to determine the height of Mount Owen Stanley and not considered very satisfactory, were repeated under more favourable conditions, but with nearly the same result. This mountain, the highest of the range of the same name, is somewhat flat-topped (as viewed from our anchorage) about six miles in length, and the mean of five observations from different stations gave 13,205 feet as the height of the highest part above the level of the sea.

PARIWARA ISLAND.

On the largest Pariwara Island, although abundance of rain had fallen lately, there was no water left in any pool or hole in the rock. Nor although the soil, from the additional moisture, looked darker and richer than during my former visit in September, was there any perceptible improvement in the vegetation. A few fork-tailed red-fronted swallows (Hirundo neoxena) were hawking about, and a large yellow and black butterfly (Papilio epius, common in collections from India and China) was abundant. Many Torres Strait pigeons were observed from the ship to resort nightly to the second largest of the group, which is covered with trees and seems quite inaccessible from the steepness of its low cliffs. On several successive evenings about sunset, and until it became too dark to distinguish them, immense numbers of frigate-birds were observed flying over Redscar Head, and going out to the North-North-East. This being a gregarious bird only when associated at a breeding place, and there being no known sandbank or islet in the direction which they were pursuing, rendered their object a subject for much conjecture.

MANY NATIVES VISIT US.

We were occasionally visited by parties of natives, chiefly coming from the northward, probably from some of the large rivermouths known to exist there. Although in bringing their women and children off to see the ship they indicated little suspicion or fear, yet on one occasion only could we induce any of the men to come on board, and the two who did so would not be persuaded to go below, and made their stay very short. As I had better opportunities of making observations upon these natives than during our former visit, some additional information regarding them may be given here. The inhabitants of Redscar Bay, judging from what was seen alongside the ship, are rather smaller in stature than those seen at Dufaure and Brumer Islands and the Louisiade, but perhaps more frequently show handsome features and good expression. Neither were there any men exceeding the rest in height by even three inches, as had often been the case in other places. They are usually of a very light copper colour, but one man was of a very pale yellow and much resembled a Chinaman in hue; although it may at first appear strange, yet this pale-skinned individual by his very colour excited feelings of disgust in the minds of some of us, such as would be created by the sight of a person whose body was covered with a loathsome eruption and who still publicly exposed it. And why should not our pale faces be regarded by these savages in a similar light? Some had perfect Malayan features, but none seen on this occasion appeared to practice betel-chewing--a remarkable circumstance, since the men who on our former visit came off to the ship, then only about fifteen miles to the north-west, had their teeth discoloured.

PIGTAILS AND TATTOOING.

None of the natives had any hair upon the face; various ways of dressing that of the head were practised, the most singular of which has already been described in Volume 1. The hair was usually of its natural dark colour at the base, with the remainder dyed reddish brown and frizzled out into a mop with long-toothed combs of wood or tortoise-shell. One child had the head so shaved as to leave a long tuft on the forehead, and another on the back of the head--precisely in the same manner as is sometimes practised in Java. Nor must I omit noticing a singular appendage formerly alluded to--analogous to the pigtail once in vogue--worn by many of these people; it is formed of human hair wrapped round with twine, and ends in one or more bunches of shells, dogs' teeth, and tails of pigs--the longest one which I saw measured twenty-one inches in length. Among numerous ornaments the most common is a large round concave portion of melon shell, sometimes beautifully inlaid with filagree work of tortoise-shell, worn on the breast. Fillets of cassowary feathers, fur of the spotted bare-tailed opossum, or woven stuff studded with shells, were often seen.

Painting the face or body does not seem to be practised here, but the men are usually tattooed on the breast, cheeks, forehead, and arms, also occasionally on other places. Their tattooing, however, is much fainter and less profuse than among the women, every visible part of whose skin is generally marked with a great variety of patterns, the most usual style among them consisting in series of double parallel or converging lines an inch or more apart, the intervals being occupied by small figures, or irregular lines, with detached rectilinear figures fancifully filled up.

DRESS AND ARMS.

The women wear a petticoat of shreds of pandanus leaf, plaited above into a waistband and below reaching nearly to the knee.

They brought off little with them for barter besides bows and arrows, and as before appeared perfectly ignorant of the use of iron. A few coconuts, plantains, and mangos were obtained from them, but they had no yams. Nearly every canoe which came alongside contained several large baked earthen pots of good construction, some with wide, others with narrow mouths, and a third sort shaped like a saucer. Besides bows and arrows, we saw many spears, mostly of small size and usually finely jagged or barbed towards the end, but of very inferior workmanship, also some shields, one of which may be described.* It measures 33 inches in length by 14 in width, and in shape resembles a fiddle, being rounded at the ends and slightly contracted in the middle; it is made of wood, three-fourths of an inch thick, neatly covered with fine cane matting, fitting very tightly.

(*Footnote. Figured in volume 1.)

SINGLE OR DOUBLE CANOES.

The canoes seen here are either single or double, in the latter case consisting merely of two lashed together, usually without an outrigger. The single canoes vary in length from 20 to 30 feet, and carry from five to a dozen people. Each end tapers to a sharp projecting point longer at the bow. The outrigger frame consists of five poles laid across the gunwale in grooves, and the float, which is rather less than half the length of the body of the canoe, is secured to the ends of each by three pegs, a foot in length. The opposite ends of the outrigger poles project beyond the side only a few inches, and are secured by lashing of cane to a piece crossing them; the gunwale is further strengthened by slender poles running along it from end to end. A small portion only of the outrigger frame is converted into a platform by a few loose poles or a plank or two: some of the latter were as much as two feet in width, and only an inch in thickness, and must have been cut with stone axes out of a log of wood. The largest canoe seen was judged to be thirty-five feet in length, with a width at the bow of four and a half feet, but this far exceeded in bulk any of the other single ones. Like the rest it essentially consisted of the hollowed-out trunk of a tree. All the heavy canoes are pulled with oars, working in cane grommets, the others are propelled with paddles. Both oars and paddles have lanceolate blades and thick handles, without any attempt at ornament or even neatness of design.

The sail (of pandanus matting) is a long parallelogram, twelve feet by three, its sides secured by two tough slender poles, between which it is stretched, and which serve both as masts and yards. In making sail one of the poles is shipped, two stays from the centre leading fore and aft are then set up, after which the second pole is fixed and secured by stays, so as to give the sail the requisite inclination. We frequently saw a second smaller sail set before the first, at the distance of eight or ten feet, and managed precisely in the same way, but, even with both sails set, owing to the disproportion between the spread of canvas and the bulk of the canoe, the latter moves slowly at all times, and on a wind makes much leeway.

SAIL FROM REDSCAR BAY.

December 31st.

We sailed yesterday from our anchorage in Redscar Bay, but did not clear the sunken ridge of coral in the offing--a submarine extension of the Barrier Reef, stretching between Low Island and the vicinity of South-west Cape--until this forenoon, when we got out of soundings. The Bramble is to remain behind for three or four weeks upon the coast, to fill up various blanks in the chart between this and Rossel Island, while we are to make the best of our way to the Duchateau Islands, to obtain a meridian distance, and thence proceed direct to Sydney.

January 6th, 1850.

Our passage to the Duchateau Isles, a distance of less than 400 miles, has been protracted by the prevalence of light winds, although these were generally favourable, or from the westward. Occasional calms, squalls, and rain occurred, but the weather generally was finer than during the South-East monsoon.

CLEARNESS OF THE ATMOSPHERE.

As an instance of the clearness of the atmosphere, so different from what we had usually experienced during our former visit to these shores, it may be mentioned, that on one occasion during a light breeze from the north-west we clearly saw Mount Yule (10,046 feet high) and the summit of Mount Owen Stanley, distant respectively, one hundred and twenty, and eighty miles from the ship. On this occasion also we had a full view of the whole of Mount Astrolabe, which although 3,824 feet in greatest height, and appearing to D'Urville as he ran past to be the highest land on this portion of the coast, is rendered quite insignificant by the lofty though distant range behind. Mount Astrolabe differs in character from any other of the New Guinea mountains seen by us, indicating a different geological formation. The summit extends thirteen miles, running parallel with the coastline and distant from it about eight miles. Viewed from the south-westward the outline is regular, exhibiting a series of nearly flat tops with slight interruptions, but from the southward it appears as a succession of terraces or projecting cliffs, precipitous in front near the summit, with a long steep slope below, probably of debris, while the flat top slopes backwards with a very gentle declivity. Owen Stanley Range again presented quite a different aspect as seen on the occasion alluded to, when nearly one half of its whole length (300 miles) from Mount Yule to Heath Bay was in full view: the outline was irregular but never suddenly so, and no peaks or other remarkable points were seen.

I may mention here in relation to this part of New Guinea, though not in continuance of the narrative, that the Barrier Reef, beginning (or ending) at Low Island, is continued to the southward and eastward for 150 miles, as far as Cape Colombier, generally following the trend of the coast, at a distance off it from three to fifteen miles. A long strip of apparently navigable water is thus enclosed between the reef and the shore, with numerous passages, many of which appeared to be clear to Lieutenant Yule as he passed along close to the outer margin of the reef.

HARBOURS INSIDE THE BARRIER REEF.

Some good harbours doubtless exist here; the Bramble passed through Roundhead Entrance and found good anchorage in fifteen fathoms immediately inside. The whole of this extent of coast appeared to be well peopled. On the western side of Mount Astrolabe, for instance, numerous villages and patches of cultivated land were seen from the Bramble.

THE SAGO PALM.

Both in Redscar Bay and for the first two or three days after leaving it numbers of sago palms, some quite recent, were observed on the water, occasionally with boobies and noddies perched upon them. These trees had probably grown upon the banks of the rivers of the bay, and been washed away by the undermining of the low alluvial banks on which they grow, and carried out to sea by the current. Along several of the freshwater channels on the western side of the Great Bight examined by the Fly's boats in 1844, I had seen this palm growing on the margin of the stream in great profusion, and according to Giaom, the bisi tree (as she called it) is occasionally carried by the winds and currents as far south as the Prince of Wales Islands, when the natives scoop out the soft spongy inner wood, wash it well with fresh water, beat it up into a pulp, separate the farinaceous substance which falls to the bottom of the vessel, and bake it as bread. On no part of the coast of New Guinea, however, did we ever see any of this sago bread, which is known to constitute the principal food of the inhabitants of the north-west coast of that great island.*

(*Footnote. Forrest endeavours to show that an acre of ground planted with 300 sago palms will maintain fourteen men, as each tree produces 300 pounds of sago flour, when arrived at full maturity in its seventh year. Voyage to New Guinea and the Moluccas in 1774 to 1776 by Captain Thomas Forrest second edition page 44.)

On one occasion lately the water was discoloured by a conferva resembling the sea-sawdust of Captain Cook, with which it was found to agree generically in consisting of long filaments joined together by a softer gelatinous-looking substance. The present species, however, is six times larger than the more common sort, some of which was mixed up with it, their diameters as ascertained by Mr. Huxley, being respectively 8 1/2 over 5000 and 1 1/8 over 5000 of an inch.

Today we stood in for the Duchateau Isles, and, rounding them to the westward, anchored in the afternoon in seventeen fathoms, with the central island bearing south, distant one mile.

SHOOTING PARTY ON DUCHATEAU ISLES.

January 7th.

Along with a shooting party I landed soon after daylight on the westernmost Duchateau Island. Numbers of Nicobar pigeons left the island as we approached, having apparently used it merely as a roosting-place.

HABITS OF DUPERREY'S MEGAPODIUS.

Heavy showers and thunderclouds passed over at intervals during the whole morning, rendering our shooting not quite so successful as it might have been; still we procured about fifty pigeons and a few of Duperrey's megapodius. In habits this last bird resembles the Australian species, especially in constructing enormous mounds for the reception of its eggs. Those which I saw averaged five feet in height and fifteen in diameter, and were composed of the sandy soil of the neighbourhood, mixed up with rotten sticks and leaves, but without any shells or coral. Some were placed on the outer margin of the thickets close to the beach, and others were scattered about more inland. As several of these mounds showed indications of having lately been opened by the birds, I entertained hopes of being able to procure an egg, but after digging several pits three feet in depth, with no more efficient implements than my hands, I had to give up the work from sheer exhaustion. This bird is apparently very pugnacious at times, as I frequently saw them chasing each other along the ground, running with great swiftness, and uttering their cry more loudly than usual, stopping short suddenly and again starting off in pursuit. The cry consists of one or two shrill notes, uttered at intervals and ending in a hurried tremulous cry repeated five or six times. The noise made by this megapodius while scratching among the dead leaves for food may sometimes be imitated with such success as to bring the bird running up within gunshot. When suddenly forced to rise from the ground it flies up into a tree, and remains there motionless, but exceedingly vigilant, ready to start on the approach of anyone, but on other occasions it trusts to its legs to escape. Its food is entirely procured on the ground, and consists of insects and their larvae (especially the pupae of ants) small snails, and various fallen seeds and fruits. Although a great number of the Nicobar pigeons had left, many yet remained, and the whole island resounded with their cry mixed up with the cooing of the Nutmeg pigeon. Little skill is required in shooting these birds, for they generally admit of very close approach, as if trusting to the chance of being overlooked among the dense foliage.

ARE VISITED BY NATIVES.

January 8th.

During the night a party of natives in five canoes came over from the Calvados Group, and first attracted our attention by making several fires on the middle and easternmost islands. Soon after daybreak they came alongside in their usual boisterous manner. A few words of their language which were procured proved to be of great interest by agreeing generally with those formerly obtained at Brierly Island, while the numerals were quite different and corresponded somewhat with those of my Brumer Island vocabulary. Two of the canoes--one of which carried sixteen people--were large and heavy and came off under sail, tacking outside of us and fetching under the ship's stern. In these large canoes the paddles are of proportionate size and very clumsy--they are worked as oars with the aid of cane grommets--the sail is of the large oblong shape formerly described. One of the canoes was furnished with a small stage above the platform for the reception of a large bundle of coarse mats, six feet long and two and a half broad, made by interlacing the leaflets of the cocoa-palm; these mats are probably used in the construction of temporary huts when upon a cruise.

Although rather a better sample of the Papuan race than that which we had lately seen at Redscar Bay, there was no marked physical distinction between these inhabitants of the Louisiade and the New Guinea men. The canoes, however, are as different as the language; here, as throughout the Archipelago, the canoes have the semblance of a narrow coffin-like box, resting upon a hollowed-out log, the bow having the two characteristic ornaments of the tabura, or head-board, and the crest-like carved woodwork running out along the beak. Some of the natives were recognised as former visitors to the ship. Nearly all were painted, chiefly on the face, the favourite pattern being series of white bars and spots on a black ground. Except their ornaments and weapons, they had little to give us for the iron hoop so much in request with them; only a few coconuts, and scarcely any yams were obtained, and to the latter they attached a much higher value than formerly.

SAIL FOR SYDNEY.

At length the natives left us, three canoes making to the northward, and two returning to the Duchateau Isles. Morning observations for rating the chronometers having been obtained, we got underweigh soon afterwards, and, bidding farewell to the Louisiade Archipelago, commenced our voyage to Sydney.

Our daily average progress during the passage to Sydney (which occupied a period of twenty-eight days) was less than fifty miles. The winds for the first few days, or until beyond the influence of the land, were light and variable, shifting between South-West and North-East by the northward, and accompanied by occasional squalls and rain. It became a matter of difficulty to determine when we got into the south-east trade; it was not until we had reached latitude 20 degrees South that the wind--light on the preceding day, but on this strong, with squalls and rain--appeared steady between East-South-East and South-South-East and this carried us down to Sandy Cape.

REEFS OF THE CORAL SEA.

In traversing the Coral Sea, the numerous detached reefs were so carefully avoided that we saw none of them--thus in one sense it is to be regretted that the passage through them of a surveying vessel, with seventeen chronometers on board, was productive of no beneficial result by determining the exact position of any one of these dangerous reefs, most of which are only approximately laid down upon the charts.*

(*Footnote. About this time a new reef was discovered during the passage from Cape Deliverance to Sydney of H.M.S. Meander, Captain the Honourable H. Keppel. While this sheet was passing through the press, I saw an announcement of the total wreck upon Kenn Reef--one of those the position of which is uncertain--of a large merchant ship, the passengers and crew of which, 33 in number, fortunately however, succeeded in reaching Moreton Bay in their boat--a distance of 400 miles.)

PRACTICAL RESULTS OF THE SURVEY.