JOURNEY TO LAUNCESTON. 501 



Next afternoon we entered the Dervvent and 

 anchored off Hobarton. Finding that his Ex- 

 cellency Sir John Franklin had just left for Laun- 

 ceston, I proceeded thither to wait on him. Our 

 stay in the Derwent depending on a favourable 

 change in the weather, it was necessary that we 

 should be always in readiness to leave, and accord- 

 ingly I travelled by the fastest conveyance, the mail- 

 cart, a sort of gig drawn by one horse, which, how- 

 ever, by means of frequent changes and good cattle, 

 manages to average nine miles an hour. It leaves 

 Hobarton, at half-past seven, p.m., and reaches 

 Launcestoii a little before eleven the following morn- 

 ing. It was a cold, bleak night ; but as the road 

 was excellent, and I was well muffled up, with my 

 feet in a bag, the time passed cheerily. The general 

 topic of conversation during the journey was about 

 some three desperate bushrangers,* who appeared to 



this, with the error I have already alluded to in the east coast 

 of Tasmania, the most available one for shipping, points out the 

 necessity of having the survey of that island completed. 



* The most notorious of these characters was one Michael 

 Howe, who became a bushranger in 1812. In 1817 he separated 

 from his party, taking with him a native girl, whom he shot when 

 hotly pursued, because he imagined she might occasion delay. 

 He twice surrendered on condition that his life should be spared ; 

 but soon resumed his predatory habits. In 1818 he was killed 

 by three men who had planned his capture ; having been nearly 

 seven years in the bush, part of the time entirely alone. He com- 

 mitted several murders, and robberies innumerable. His head was 

 conveyed to Hobarton. In his knapsack was found a sort of journal 

 of his dreams written with blood, and strongly indicative of the 

 horrors of his mind. 



