As opportunity offered, we stood in and out from the shore—never being able to approach nearer than eight miles, the depth at that distance being only three fathoms, but further to seaward it increased very rapidly, the first cast of the lead, when standing off the edge of the bank, giving five fathoms. The land was everywhere low, and covered with large trees. I endeavoured as much as possible to approach the land, either with the brig or with the boats, but was always prevented by the mud-bank. Between the Cape and St. Bartholomeus River, we saw no opening that would admit our entrance.
Having arrived off the mouth of the St. Bartholomeus River, which is easily distinguished, as the points forming the entrance are a considerable distance apart, the unfavourable state of the weather, coupled with an increasing swell raised by the strong south-east wind, determined me to return towards False Cape; being the more inclined to do so, from the brig, which was anchored nine miles from the shore, rolling heavily, from being forced by the tide to lie across the swell, and having already carried away several of the shrouds of the lower rigging.
The large islands in the Indian Archipelago, generally, have a considerable influence on the wind, causing land and sea breezes; but here it was not the case. This circumstance was injurious to the objects of the voyage, as we were unable to contend against the strength of the south-east monsoon, being thus prevented from passing farther to the eastward. To have fully examined and laid down this part of the coast would have required more time than we could bestow upon it. We ascertained the south extreme of the land to lie in latitude 8 deg. 25 min. south, while the longitude of the mouth of St. Bartholomeus River, by chronometers and lunar observations, was found to be 139 deg. 2 min. 25 sec. east of Greenwich. I have laid down the trending of the land in the accompanying chart as accurately as I could, and am confident of the correctness of the positions assigned to the principal points.
On the 3rd of May we stood back to the westward, and passed round False Cape without having any opportunity of landing, although, being now on a weather shore, we were able to employ the boats with more safety. An immense number of large and small sharks always attended the brig, many of which were caught by the ship's company. On the 7th, while the boats were rowing as usual along the mud-bank, smoke was seen to arise from the shore, and on nearing the spot a number of people were seen climbing up into the trees, who fled into the forest as the boats approached. We were here again disappointed, for the low marshy land was fronted by an extensive mud-bank, which forbade our approach. This bank was covered with crocodiles, which took flight on seeing the boats.
We continued running along shore until the 8th, when we entered a wide channel, carrying a depth of six and seven fathoms close into the south shore, while the land on the opposite side was scarcely visible. We anchored in seven fathoms within the entrance, and the same night I left the brig in the boats, accompanied by the surgeon, the clerk, and the interpreters, for the purpose of ascending the river. We passed up along the south shore, which was still low, marshy, and well-wooded, and having ascended about twenty-eight miles we turned back towards the brig, as I judged it inadvisable to proceed further, the continued rain being likely to give rise to sickness among the boats' crews. The breadth of the river throughout was about five miles, the depth being about eight fathoms in mid-channel, and three fathoms within half a cable's length from the shore. The tides were very regular, the ebb appearing to be rather the stronger. Rise and fall ten feet. The water abounded with fish, and the shores were covered with birds bearing much resemblance to geese, white ducks, snipes, &c. No natives were seen during the excursion, nor were any traces of them seen, with the exception of two old canoes, formed of hollowed trees, which were half buried in the mud. The tameness of the birds would lead to the conclusion that they were but little acquainted with man. Only one of the numerous small creeks we met with produced fresh water, and this was sixteen miles from the sea. From the creek to the sea, the shore was inaccessible on account of the mud-bank which fronted it.
This previously unknown river received the name of Dourga River. The mouth was found to lie in lat. 7 deg. 12 min. south, long. 138 deg. 44 min. east.[46]
Having arrived on board on the 12th, we weighed and stood west-north-west, north-west, and north, along the edge of the mud-bank; the water was yellow and muddy, the shadows of the clouds thrown upon it giving it the appearance of being full of reefs and banks. The coast, which we could not approach nearer than from ten to twelve miles, formed several bays hereabouts.
On the 13th, being between the parallels of 6 deg. and 6 deg. 30 min. south, we were enabled to near the land, and seeing smoke arise to the northward of us we stood towards it, and shortly perceived a number of small houses on the sandy beach, off which we came to anchor in three fathoms, about four miles distant from the shore. A number of men were running to and fro on the beach, and I lowered one of the boats down for the purpose of communicating with them. Several small prahus, containing seven or eight men each, now came towards the vessel, and having approached within musket-shot, turned back towards the shore. With a view to give them confidence I sent the crew down below, and caused the pilots and interpreters to call out to them; but their answers were unintelligible. Seeing that they were afraid to come on board, I sent one of the interpreters with six native seamen in the boat, unarmed, with a view to conciliate them by presents of spirits, tobacco, &c., which were shown to them, and then launched towards them on a plank. Our endeavours, however, were unsuccessful; for they were as much afraid of the boat as of the brig, and retreated on its approach. I therefore called the boat on board again, on which the natives remained quiet for some time, until the number of their prahus were increased to twelve, when they suddenly rowed towards the brig with a loud shout, stopping, however, when still at a little distance. I again showed them the presents, and called to them in the Papuan language, but with the same result as before. I again sent the boat towards them, without the interpreter, being able to get near, and it had no sooner commenced returning than the natives followed with loud cries, taking up their bows and arrows, but stopping short when the people in the boat ceased rowing. This mode of proceeding continued for some time, and, at length, seeing that the natives had their bows strung ready for attack, I fired a blank shot towards them, on which they all threw themselves flat on their faces for a few moments, and then paddled away for the shore with all their might.
These people appeared to be of large stature, with jet-black skins, and curled hair. They went entirely naked, and no scarifying of the skin, or other mode of ornamenting, was visible on their persons. In two of the prahus I remarked several men whose skins were of a whitish colour. They appeared to be chiefly young men, not one among them being advanced in years. Two of the eldest-looking wore the skins of animals.
While the prahus were pulling towards shore, a man stood up in one of them, with a thick bamboo in his hand, out of which he threw something that appeared to me to be ashes.[47] When the boats approached them they also threw water up in the air, and showed their teeth like enraged dogs. My interpreter assured me that these people were so inhuman as to devour their prisoners taken in war, which appeared probable enough, if we may judge from the above grimaces.