IQ2 Barrett, Expedition to Capricorn Group. f i-fu 



Emu 

 ec. 



island, and in places came down to the beach. Some beautiful 

 glades were explored, but jungle guarded the forest in many parts. 

 It was on Heron Island that hundreds of turtles were seen asleep 

 on the beach or gambolling in the blue waters of the lagoon. Our 

 stay on Heron Island was brief, but it sufficed to show that nothing 

 existed in the forest that had not been found about " Sheoak 

 Camp." Later on, the members of No. 2 party were offered a 

 second voyage, but so far were the interests of Mast-Head Island 

 from being exhausted that it was decided to devote the remainder 

 of the time to them. The Petrels were arriving in increasing 

 numbers, the reef was yielding fresh material daily, and no one 

 had made all the observations desired. So we were more than 

 content to remain on what we had come to regard as ottr own island. 

 When the Endeavour' s lights shone out over the reef, on the last 

 night, a dozen pairs of hands were busily engaged packing 

 specimens and making a skeleton of the camp. Preparations for 

 departure from a spot where so many pleasant hours had been 

 spent proved dreary work. On the morrow, before the glory of 

 sunrise had faded, the ship's boats were bumping on the beach, 

 and we had to go. The members of No. i party were already 

 aboard, having been taken off North-West Island on the previous 

 afternoon. The voyage to Gladstone was uneventful ; but as we 

 walked from the jetty to our hotel, the good folk of the Queens- 

 land town eyed us curiously, and, perchance, commented on the 

 strange appearance some of us must have presented. The sun 

 had coloured our faces and hands a rich coffee-brown. 



North-West Island. 

 The experiences of the party which camped on North-West 

 Island were very similar to those of the Mast-Head Island con- 

 tingent. Captain White, to whom the writer is indebted for in- 

 formation, had the advantage of an abundant supply of fresh 

 water. It was stored in tanks left by the turtle-hunters,* whose 

 silent factory, fronted by a mound of bleached bones, is still 

 standing, with other lesser buildings, in the scrub on the fringe of 

 the forest. Several members made use of one of these zinc-roofed 

 buildings as a sleeping and work room, and the canning factory 

 itself, after a vigorous cleansing, served admirably for the party's 

 dining hall. Open at each end, the shed was a pleasant place for 

 eating meals ; and the cook had a neat little galley in which 

 to prepare them. The ladies of the party were domiciled in tents 

 pitched on the fringe of the jungle. The camp was bright and 

 picturesque. A small jetty runs out from the beach, and to one of 

 the worm-eaten piles the dinghy was tethered when not in use. 

 Relics of former inhabitants added to the interest of this lonely 

 island ; and when, in a quiet nook, half veiled by jungle growth, 

 the grave of a child was discovered, the note of pathos was struck. 

 Hidden away and forgotten of men was the grave of a little girl, fenced 



* Here, in the season, Capt. Thos. Owens preserves turtle Mesh and soup — an 

 industry which, under supervision, should be encouraged. 



