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

THE FLOOD-TIDE.

February 26.

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

ESCAPE POINT.

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

MOUTH OF THE FITZROY.

All doubt about our being in the mouth of a river was put an end to by finding that, during the last of the ebb, the water was nearly fresh.

This discovery was hailed by us all with a pleasure which persons only familiar with the well-watered and verdant fields of England cannot fully comprehend.

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

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

TIDE-BORE.

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

ASCENT OF THE FITZROY.

February 27.

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

RETURN ON FOOT.

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

PERILOUS SITUATION.

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

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

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

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

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

AND PROVIDENTIAL ESCAPE.

Nor shall I ever forget the expression of thankfulness and grat.i.tude which lit up the face of poor Ask, as the whispers of hope were confirmed by the welcome advance of the whaleboat's bows through the almost submerged mangroves, just as the water had topped our shoulders; and, therefore, barely in time to confirm upon this locality its former t.i.tle of Point Escape!

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

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

RETURN TO THE SHIP.

March 3.

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

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

March 4.

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

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

Examination of the Fitzroy River.

Excursion into the interior.

Alarm of the Natives.

Ascent of the River.

Sufferings from Mosquitoes.

Red Sandstone.

Natives again surprised.

Appearance of the Country.

Impediments in the River.

Return of the boats.

An Alligator.

Stokes' Bay.

Narrow escape of an Officer.

Change of Landscape.

Pheasant-Cuckoos.

A new Vine.

Compa.s.s Hill.

Port Usborne.

Explore the eastern sh.o.r.e of King's Sound.

Cone Bay.

Native Fires.

Whirlpool Channel.

Group of Islands.

Sterile aspect of the Coast.

Visited by a Native.

Bathurst Island.

Native Hut and Raft.

Return to Port Usborne.

Native Spears.

Cascade Bay.