256 CONFESSIONS OF A BEACHCOMBER 



stantial accounts of the treasures there to be seen had deter- 

 mined me to persevere in attempts to discover it ; but 

 though the traditions of the blacks were strengthened by a 

 mild sort of enthusiasm, and the exhibition of no little 

 pride, they did but slight service towards revealing the 

 precise locality. None of the living remnants of the race 

 had seen the paintings. All trusted to the saying of " old 

 men " and had faith. Experience had taught me to accept 

 with caution and reserve legends founded on the unverified 

 testimony of "old men" which had passed down to the 

 present generation ; but being much interested, and having 

 become elated with the hope of discovering that which had 

 not been seen by white folks, nor, indeed, by any living 

 person, I also trusted and persevered. 



From ships that pass to the East may be seen a bold 

 white streak on the face of a huge rock, so sharply defined 

 and accurate in alignment that it might be mistaken for a 

 guide to mariners, or rather a warning, for the floor of the 

 ocean is strewn with patches of coral, and the rocks are 

 singularly forbidding, save on calm days. Opinion current 

 among the blacks asserted that the paintings were on a rock 

 below the disjointed precipice on the top of the ridge made 

 conspicuous by the broad white band. The sign was found 

 to be due to the bleaching of the rock face by the drainage 

 from a mass of stag's horn fern. Possessed of this informa- 

 tion, which proved in the long run to be trustworthy, several 

 exploratory trips were undertaken. To reach the locality 

 from Brammo Bay, one must cross the middle of the back- 

 bone of the island, and descend some little distance on the 

 Pacific slope. 



I scaled and scrambled over and crawled upon huge 

 rocks, peered into gloomy crevices with daylight edges 

 fringed with ferns and orchids, squeezed through narrow 

 tunnels, and groped in dark recesses without finding any 

 evidence of prehistoric art. Blacks do not care to venture 

 into places where twilight always reigns, though they are 

 curious to learn the experiences and sensations of other 

 explorers of the gloom. At last, however, patience was 



