Before dawn this morning we were under weigh and pulling dead to windward against a strong breeze and heavy sea; the men rowed almost without intermission until noon when, finding them completely exhausted, I made sail and stood in towards the shore. When we had approached the land about four miles to the north of the Gascoyne a party of natives came down, without their spears, in the most friendly manner, making signs to us to land. We had however but little time to spare, and could not afford to give them any provisions: knowing also the small dependence that can be placed upon them in a first interview, I thought it most prudent to decline their invitation.
COMPLETE OUR WATER.
We accordingly continued our route and in the course of the evening made the river, where we completed our water, and halted for the night. We saw nothing more of the natives here, but I feel convinced that in the event of a settlement being formed at this point no difficulty would be found in establishing and maintaining the most friendly relations with them.
ANCHOR TO THE NORTH OF THE GASCOYNE.
March 24.
The morning did not promise very well, but soon after sunrise the wind shifted so much to the westward that we were able to run along shore, and in the course of the day we made altogether about forty-five miles, tracing the greater part of the remaining unknown portion of the shores of Shark Bay. On leaving the Gascoyne, a low point bore due south of us, distant about twelve miles, which I named Point Greenough after George Bellas Greenough, Esquire, the president of the Royal Geographical Society; and between this point and the river lay a deep bay, the shores of which were low and thickly studded with mangroves, through which many saltwater creeks ran up into the country. Two of these creeks I had examined on a previous occasion, and therefore now paid no attention to them.
EXAMINE THE COAST TO THE SOUTHWARD. ITS CHARACTER.
After passing Point Greenough the shore trended south by east and for the next eight miles preserved its low character, being still thickly wooded with mangroves; but at this point a remarkable change takes place as the mangroves suddenly cease, and the low range of hills which extends southward along the coast parallel to the shore increases a little in height. In about another mile the mangroves again commence, the coast now trending south-east; and about five miles further it runs south-east by east, forming a bay about four miles deep, the bottom of which is tolerably clear of mangroves.
CONTINUE OUR COURSE TO THE SOUTHWARD.
Having crossed this bay we ran south-east by south parallel to the shore; the mangroves now became less continuous and numerous, at least they appeared to us to be so, and the range of hills seemed also to approach much nearer to the sea. We continued on this course until sunset, when I selected a snug little bay in the mangroves, where we anchored at the distance of a few yards from the shore and made ourselves as comfortable as we could for the night.