jSS Barrett, Expedition to Capyicom Group. [i.^f Dec 



supply, brought from the mainland ; and the " shop goods " were 

 supplemented by fresh fish, the fruits of spearing in the lagoon or 

 gifts from the trawler, and turtle steaks, which tasted like veal. 

 Prunes and rice or stewed apricots made delicious dessert. So 

 we fared daintily enough to satisfy an epicure, sans white napery 

 and silver tableware. 



THE day's work. 



After the first long day of preliminaries, members planned out 

 their own activities. Some worked the reef and some the beaches, 

 while others haunted the Pisonia forest, where the purple shadows 

 are laced with gold, and the foot falls softly on withered leaves. 

 Each pursued his own branch of nature study, or two or three 

 would join company and wander away together ; and when dark- 

 ness came, round the camp-fire we would review the da\^'s work 

 before beginning the task of preserving specimens and writing up 

 our notes. So the days wore on, each bringing gifts that enriched 

 us with knowledge and beauty. The days were long, although to 

 us they seemed too brief — the hours of sunlight too few — for the 

 harvesting. We rose at dawn, and at noon of night some were 

 still working by light of a hurricane lamp, swung censer-wise from 

 the ridge-pole of a tent. There was so much to be done : birds to 

 be skinned, corals and shells to be cleaned and packed away, and 

 the photographers had plates to change. Tedious work, truly ; 

 but after toil we slept well, on a bed of boughs, or on the clean 

 white coral sand, with our blankets rolled around us when the nights 

 were cool — a clean, hard, healthful life, on an isle in the midst 

 of the sea. Our tents were pitched in a grove of casuarinas, on the 

 verge of the open beach ; and the green boughs, pendulous and 

 beautiful, formed a soft screen from the sun. Often, at night, a 

 hovering bird would enter one of the tents, fluttering stupidly 

 about until it found the open air again. A species of crab made 

 burrows under sleeping heads, while great brown moths blundered 

 against our canvas roof-trees. Of creeping things there were not 

 many. Turn over an old log and you might find a centipede, 

 large and menacing, or a beetle or two ; nothing more. There 

 were no serpents in our little Eden — nothing to fear at all, by day 

 or by night. 



ISLAND NIGHTS. 



Those island nights were wonderful, with the moonlight making 

 a silver shield of the lagoon, stars shining down, and the white 

 curving beach barred with the fleeting shadows of birds. Walking 

 along the beach, it was interesting to try and identify the multi- 

 tudinous bird notes. Thousands of dark forms kept coming and 

 going 'twixt sea and shore, and calling all the time. The plaint 

 of the Sooty Oyster-catcher was unmistakable, and the clicking 

 croak of the White-capped Noddy, and one could tell when a 

 flock of Brown-winged Terns passed over. But there were many 

 cries that puzzled the most experienced among us — a medley of 

 strange sounds, in tune with the mystery of the moonlit night. 



A little company of Frigate-Birds came at dusk each day to camp 



