ioo 
BLOOMFIELD RIVER 
CHAP. 
Missionaries who inhabited the Station, I feel sure, 
would have been too strict in their ideas to shelter a 
lone white woman for some days, with no means of 
getting rid of her. 
As a last hope, I wrote to the Constable, asking him 
to send a black boy up to the H.s’ ; but, alas ! he was 
away. I could not get through the tall, blady grass to 
hunt for flowers, and it suggested also every kind of 
snake ; but along the river-bank, later on, I picked a 
large yellow blossom of the tree hibiscus and painted it 
in with a bilious-looking setting-sun background, which 
even now gives me a pain when I look at it, bringing 
back the same sensation that I had then. 
Another day went by, and still no sign of anyone 
coming. I felt like a Bluebeard’s wife as the day 
declined ; still no one came, and I was really getting 
so hungry that I determined I would at any rate make 
an effort to cross the river and get some message sent to 
Mr. H.’s station some distance up. Some trees falling 
across the water had made a partial bridge, and on 
these I tried my luck. By climbing on to the big root, 
and with the aid of an overhanging tree, I balanced 
myself on the log and found the first few yards easy 
walking, but in midstream there was a big fork in the 
tree to get round, and thus I lost my hold of the 
branches overhead and had to go very gingerly down 
on my hands and knees. It was horribly slippery and 
the river looked very black below me ; I turned myself 
round and slid so quickly down the other side that I 
only saved taking a header into the river by catching 
at a small twig, which however broke away in my hand ; 
but I managed to balance myself sufficiently to get on 
to the next log. 
After going a short distance I discovered to my 
horror that the tide was fast coming in, not going out as 
