the men were preparing for embarkation I strolled with Lieutenant Lushington up the valley, a little beyond the late encampment: the Timor ponies were busily engaged upon the fresh grass; near the banks of a beautiful pool in which we both enjoyed a freshwater bath, I noticed a small coconut tree, and some other plants, which he and his companions had benevolently endeavoured to naturalize here: they seemed healthy enough, but I should fear the rank luxuriance of surrounding and indigenous vegetation will render the ultimate well-doing of the strangers exceedingly doubtful. Assisted by our boats the whole party embarked in the early part of the afternoon, and appeared highly delighted to find themselves again on board the schooner. I was much impressed with the emphatic manner in which Lieutenant Lushington bid the shore a hearty farewell. The same evening the Lynher was moved round to Port George the Fourth--thus affording us an opportunity of welcoming all our former fellow-voyagers once more on board the Beagle; where we spent one of those delightful evenings, known only to those who have been long separated from the rest of the world.
LEAVE PORT GEORGE THE FOURTH.
On the 9th we left Port George the Fourth on our return to Swan River, in company with the Lynher, in which Lieutenant Grey and his party had arranged to proceed to the Mauritius. A finer port than this, in some respects, can hardly be imagined. Like Hanover Bay, over which, however, it possesses the advantage of an easier access from the sea, it affords safe anchorage, abundance of fresh water, plenty of fuel, and a fine beach for the seine: but the numerous islands and reefs which skirt this coast greatly reduce the value of both these harbours. The Master of the Lynher told me of certain tidal phenomena remarked by him during his protracted visit to Hanover Bay: he had noticed that the highest tides always occurred on the fourth day after the full or change of the moon, and that they then attained a maximum height of twenty-five feet; while during the neaps the difference between high and low-water sometimes did not exceed twenty-four inches!
During the short time that we were in this neighbourhood, the prevailing winds were from South-East and to East from after midnight till noon, and from West to North until midnight. Our progress through the day was but slow; the wind light and most provokingly foul at West-North-West.
ISOLATED ROCK.
While standing towards a small island bearing North and by West five and a half miles from Point Adieu, we discovered a single rock with apparently deep water all around it, and just awash at low-water. It bore North-West and by West three-quarters of a mile from this island, which resembles Red Island, and Captain King's group of the Rocky Islands, in that calcined-like appearance which has by turns given them red and brown for a distinct appellation. In the afternoon we saw the sandbank laid down in Captain King's chart; it appeared a white rocky islet. The night was spent beating to the westward, between it and Red Island, against a light breeze.
April 20.
At daylight, whilst standing to the South-West the water shoaled rapidly though regularly from 20 to 6 fathoms, we then tacked, Red Island bearing South-East one mile and a quarter; in standing out (north) the water deepened suddenly and almost immediately to 15 fathoms. I imagine this shoal to be a continuation of one laid down by Captain King, extending two miles south from Red Island: passing the latter on our way to Port George the Fourth we had 28 to 30 fathoms, two and a half miles from its North-West side.
April 21.
We continued to make but little progress to the westward, scarcely averaging more than a mile per hour: the soundings indicating that we were still on the coral ledge that skirts the whole of this coast, northward of Cape Leveque; on the raised parts of which are numerous reefs of an irregular size and almost invariably trending from West to North-West. The number of these low coral reefs already known, and the probable number of those yet undiscovered, make this rather a dangerous sea, and must have a tendency to lessen the value of the North-West coast of Australia for purposes of forming settlements. In the afternoon we saw again the reef discovered and named after the Beagle. Steering West-North-West we passed four miles from its northern side in soundings varying from 41 to 47 fathoms.
REMARKABLE RIPPLINGS.
April 23.
Towards the close of this day we passed through a line of very remarkable ripplings, extending in a north and south direction, which we knew indicated some great inequality in the bottom, but whether from deep to shoal water was a matter of some anxiety; therefore, with leadsmen in the chains and the men at their stations for working ship, we glided into this streak of agitated water, where plunging once or twice she again passed into the silent deep. We sounded ineffectually with 86 fathoms in the ripplings; for some time before the soundings had been regular 52 and 55 fathoms fine sand, and four miles beyond it we had 146 fathoms, but did not succeed afterwards in reaching the bottom with 200 fathoms. This line of disturbed water, therefore, marks the edge of the bank of soundings fronting this part of the coast, from which the nearest point, Cape Leveque, bore South-East 195 miles.
PART FROM THE LYNHER.
The Lynher having to pursue a more westerly course, we were of necessity, though reluctantly, obliged to part company this evening: the few evenings we passed together at sea were rendered very pleasant and amusing by the crews singing to each other as the vessels, side by side, slipped stealthily through the moonlit waters.
April 24.
Still pursuing a West-South-West course, at the slow rate of forty miles daily, our position at noon was latitude 15 degrees 40 minutes South longitude 120 degrees 41 minutes East. During the day we passed within fifteen miles of the Lively's reef, and from the numbers of terns and other small seabirds, seen for the last three days, there can be little doubt of its whereabouts being known, and that during that time we had been in the neighbourhood of other reefs still undiscovered.
April 27.
We experienced the long rolling swell of the Southern Ocean, which, as well as our reckoning, informed us we were rounding North-West Cape; at the same time we began to feel a steady breeze from the South-East and the northerly current which there prevails. As we were now approaching the usual track of vessels bound from Australia to India, we were not unprepared for the somewhat unusual sight of a strange sail: an object always of some little interest, but which becomes quite an event to those whose duty leads them into the less frequented portions of the deep.
THE TRYAL ROCKS.
The increasing trade now carried on between Sydney and the gorgeous East, has converted the dividing sea into a beaten track; and as no further evidence has been brought forward to confirm the reported existence of the Tryal Rocks, asserted to lie directly in the course steered by vessels making this passage, I cannot but adhere to Captain King's opinion, that Tremouille Island and its outlying reefs, situated in the same latitude as that in which the Tryal Rocks are supposed to lie, have originated the mistake;* one, be it observed, of longitude, in which particular the accounts of earlier navigators must always be received with caution.
(*Footnote. Subsequent explorations have proved this to be the case.)
ANECDOTES OF MIAGO.
While our return to Swan River was thus baffled and delayed by the long and almost unbroken continuance of foul winds, it afforded some diversion to watch the countenance and conduct of Miago, who was as anxious as anyone on board for the sight of his native land. He would stand gazing steadily and in silence over the sea, and then sometimes, perceiving that I watched him, say to me, "Miago sing, by and by northern men wind jump up:" then would he station himself for hours at the lee-gangway, and chant to some imaginary deity an incantation or prayer to change the opposing wind. I could never rightly learn to whom this rude melody was addressed; for if anyone approached him near enough to overhear the words, he became at once silent; but there was a mournful and pathetic air running through the strain, that rendered it by no means unpleasing; though doubtless it owed much of its effect to the concomitant circumstances. The rude savage--separated from all his former companions, made at once an intimate and familiar witness of some of the wonders of civilization, carried by his new comrades to their very country, and brought face to face with his traditionary foes, the dreaded northern men, and now returning to recount to his yet ruder brethren the wonders he had witnessed--could not fail to interest the least imaginative.