We had reached Cape Naturaliste, when the wind headed us, and obliged us to run back to Garden Island; where we went ashore on the evening of the 15th, and enjoyed a bivouac, in preference to our quarters on shipboard.
I wish you had a peep at us as we lay in the bush, with a canopy of trees over us,—our supper, fish (speared for us by the natives), with the accompaniment of crabs of our own catching.
On the 16th, we re-embarked; but the wind being still unfavourable, we anchored under shelter of Carnac Island, where we passed a most delightful day, rambling about the rocks, catching crabs with pointed sticks. Our men took some young mutton birds in the holes in which they burrow like rabbits; and the natives of our party begged hard to remain all night, in order to catch the old ones in their holes, which they do not enter before nightfall; but, as we intended to sail with the first of the land breeze, we made them sleep with ourselves on board, much to their regret.
17th.—A fine breeze all day: we were running parallel to the coast, but at a considerable distance, to clear Cape Naturaliste.
18th.—Abreast of the Cape; which is neither high nor bluff. The coast ten miles distant. We can perceive cattle in the valleys, and the first ridge of bare-looking hills in the back ground. Two fires are perceptible.
