THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 137 



the shifting sand, some time ago, and scared a passer-by, who 

 took it for a ghost. The skull is in the possession of a resident, 

 and as a relic of the lost Tasmanian race it is of some value. 



On the morning of the 25th we make a start for the islands, 

 having decided to land on Albatross Island at the first oppor- 

 tunity, and then to do as many of the other islands as we can in 

 the now limited time at our disposal. A fair wind favours us, 

 and such good progress is made that we land shortly after noon 

 on Three-Hummock Island. The afternoon is spent in wandering 

 along a sandy beach, where the eggs of the Black-fronted 

 Dotterel and the White-breasted Oystercatcher are taken. In 

 the evening we go up to Mr. J. Burgess's farm, where we receive 

 a hearty welcome. A description of the ascent of the highest of 

 the Three Hummocks will be found in a paper read by our well- 

 known honorary member, Mr. E. D. Atkinson, and published in 

 vol. vi. of the Victorian Naturalist. With regard to the absence 

 of Wallaby on this island, noted by Mr. Atkinson as a curious 

 feature, we learn that their extinction must have been very recent, 

 as their bones are found in great numbers. There is a small 

 Mutton Bird rookery on the island, the favourite resort of the 

 farm pig, which roots the birds out and eats them. We are told 

 that the Reef Herons are fairly numerous on some of the 

 smaller islands, and also eat the young Mutton Birds. 



We elect to sleep on shore, and at 5 o'clock next morning are 

 awakened by Captain Mullins with the good news that the 

 weather is favourable for landing on Albatross Island. We 

 are quickly dressed and row off to the cutter, which immediately 

 sets sail, heading for the northern extremity of the West Hunter. 

 Here we pass through a potboil and out into the ocean. Six 

 miles to the westward Albatross Island looms up against the 

 horizon, but almost shut out from view by a heavy mist. As we 

 get nearer the mist clears away, and its jagged outline, constantly 

 changing as the veering wind takes us far to the northward, 

 stands out in bold relief. Fortunately we are enabled to beat 

 down before the tide turns, and about noon drop the kedge 

 and hang on to the kelp at the base of a gorge leading 

 down to a sheltered cove. Here we manage to jump on to 

 the rocks from the dingey, and then, with some difficulty, owing 

 to the heavy surf, catch our various effects as they are thrown 

 to us from the boat. We land also a keg of water — a pro- 

 vision for which we are afterwards very thankful, for none is 

 found on the island. We are so enchanted with the romantic 

 appearance of the island that we give instructions to Captain 

 Mullins to leave us two days, in order that we may thoroughly 

 explore it ; he then takes his departure in the cutter, seeking 

 an anchorage inside the West Hunter. Our first care is for 

 the inner man ; then with our cameras on our shoulders we set 



