One of the officers on a shooting excursion lost his way and got entangled in a mangrove forest, where the ground being a soft mud, travelling became very laborious, particularly in a temperature of 85 degrees and without water; fatigue hastened by thirst, at length quite knocked up my shipmate, who threw himself exhausted on the ground. In vain did he seek for a little rest, for no sooner was he quiet than swarms of mosquitoes assailed him, and forced him again on his legs; unwelcome as these tormenting visitors generally are, they were probably in this case the means of saving my friend's life, as goaded on by their unceasing attacks, to exertions otherwise out of the question, he eventually reached assistance, and was brought on board in a most helpless condition.
The tide here was two hours later than at Foul Point: the greatest rise noticed in the ship was thirty feet, which was seven feet less than we had found it in the yawl.
We had several heavy squalls from eastward this afternoon, and during the early part of the night, with rain and thunder.
March 15.
The morning broke dull and gloomy, with a light breeze from the eastward. There were altogether evident symptoms of a decided and immediate change in the weather. The survey of the south-eastern portion of the sound being now complete, the ship was taken over to the high rocky land lying north 20 miles from Point Torment. We crossed the flat extending four miles North-West from that point, in from two to three fathoms at low-water; the soundings afterwards varied from nine to eleven fathoms with a soft, muddy sand bottom. We anchored in seven fathoms low-water, one mile and a half South-South-West from the southern of two small rocky islets, lying 16 miles north from Point Torment and three from the rocky shore behind them; a sandbank, dry at low-water, extended from these islets to within half a mile of the ship.
CHANGE OF LANDSCAPE.
Our eyes were now relieved by a pleasing change of landscape; the land had wholly changed in character from that of which we had seen so much and grown so weary. It no longer stretched away in an illimitable and boundless plain, but rising abruptly from the water's edge, attained an elevation of 700 feet. The highest part of this range (afterwards named Compass Hill) bore North by West distant four and a quarter miles. We were all of course exceedingly anxious to visit this new land; but the weather, strange to say, put our patience to a trial of four days, during which it equalled in severity any we had experienced under Swan Point. It commenced with dark masses of clouds rising in the east, which were soon followed by a fresh breeze from the South-East with heavy rain, gradually freshening as it came round to the westward, blowing hardest between West-South-West and West-North-West. The barometer being out of order we were unable to observe how this unusual change would have affected that instrument; the thermometer, however, fell to 76 degrees, an alteration of temperature which, combined with the dampness of the atmosphere, exposed us to the novel sensation of cold. We noticed the time of high-water was about fifteen minutes earlier than at Point Torment, the flood-stream setting East-South-East and the ebb west. The former at a rate of two miles, and the latter one mile per hour.
March 21.
At length the wished for change arrived, and we again beheld this morning the deep pure blue of a southern sky. We were all eager to commence our exploration, and Mr. Usborne, ever anxious to be actively employed, was so far recovered that he induced the surgeon, though reluctantly, to allow him to again share in the duties of the survey. He was accordingly despatched to look for a berth for the ship further to the North-West, while Captain Wickham and myself went towards Compass Hill. We were accompanied by Mr. Bynoe, who, during our excursion, was fortunate enough to add several rare birds to his collection.
EXPLORATION OF THE BAY.