i3 2 
THURSDAY ISLAND 
CHAP. 
What a view lay before us, as we trooped on deck 
that morning to get the first glimpse of these last 
bits of Australian land ! A cloudless sky and a 
sparkling sea of sapphire dappled with white waves 
met our view ; island after island rose before us, and 
each turn of the pounding engines disclosed some 
fresh scene of beauty. In the distance we saw the 
shimmering light of early morning on the roofs of the 
houses in that little bay, which will soon, with King 
George’s Sound, hold so important a place in the 
defence of our Empire. We find it already the rendez- 
vous of eight ships of war ; and with a rattling of 
chain, and a splashing of water, down goes our anchor 
close beside H.M.S. Orlando , our own flag-ship, which 
cannot venture close in. 
Later on, I am allowed to go ashore in her steam 
launch, and most thankful I am, for a motley crowd 
welcomes us at the pier, and, but for the aid of the blue- 
jackets, I might be sitting on my baggage yet. The hotel 
is only two minutes’ walk from the pier, and the landlady, 
who is both portly and gracious, takes me to my room, 
in front of which is a Cingalese, with delightful uncon- 
cern, engaged in washing two babies in a basin of 
water, though all along the wide verandah gentlemen 
are lounging and smoking in their long easy -chairs. 
There is a remarkable air of freedom and sans gene 
about everything and everybody, but we must remember 
that it is holiday time. Knots of sailors in spotless 
white are to be seen in every direction. To-day there 
is a regatta, and as the winning boat passes the ships 
great cheering goes on almost constantly. 
In the afternoon I go for a drive in the one cab on 
the island. The roads are limited, but I get a bird’s- 
eye view of the territory, and we drive afterwards 
through the little town. What a medley of tongues 
