We, however, managed to reach our last night's bivouac by dark; and towards the close of the next day we got as far down as the outer grassy islet in the entrance of the river. The night was stormy, but the wind and rain together kept away the mosquitoes, and enabled us to obtain a little most welcome rest. This change in the weather was sudden. Hitherto we had been singularly fortunate, each succeeding night, and returning morn being, in cleanness and beauty, only a repetition of its predecessor.
March 13.
The morning was again fine, and the bright sky was not disfigured by the least trace of the dark clouds that had so lately overspread it. The tide fortunately favoured our making an early start. On passing Escape Point, so named, as the reader may recollect, in grateful remembrance of the providential escape a small party of us experienced there, we saw an alligator slide his unwieldy carcass from the soft mud-bank, upon which he had been lazily reclining, into one of the creeks we had so much difficulty in crossing. We could not but feel grateful that even the existence of these monster reptiles in this river was then unknown to us, as the bare thought of a visit from one of them would have added to the unpleasantness of our position, while the actual presence of so wholesale a gastronomer would perhaps have given another and less auspicious name to Escape Point.
A creek, ten miles from Point Torment, afforded us shelter for the night, which was again wet and squally.
March 14.
At daybreak the blue vault above was still disfigured by dark inky blotches of clouds. We reached the ship before breakfast, and found that Mr. Helpman and Mr. Keys had ascertained that the opening on the north-east side of Point Torment was a great bay, extending ten miles in a south-easterly direction, with a width of the same distance: its shores throughout were fringed with mangroves, through which the tide found its way, inundating many miles of the interior at high-water.
STOKES'S BAY.
In the north and south corners of the depths of this bay they found an inlet, each being about three miles deep; narrow, sandy ridges, almost dry at low-water, trending to the North-West, and separated by channels from three to four fathoms, occupied the greater portion of this extensive bay, which Captain Wickham, out of compliment, named after myself.
Point Torment afforded a very fair field for the exertions of our collectors in Natural History. Without wishing to bore my readers with another long mosquito story, I think the following may be interesting.
AN OFFICER ENTANGLED IN MANGROVES.