December 10th.
While getting underweigh, a canoe with a party of natives from Stephens Island came off to us in a very confident manner, and at once called out for a rope (laga) with which they made fast to the ship. Among them were two of the natives of Darnley Island, one of whom, Dzum, soon recognised me as an old acquaintance, under the name of Dzoka, by which I had formerly been known on shore during the Fly's visits. They had a few coconuts, and a little tortoise-shell for barter, and were very urgent that the ship should go to Campbell Island on her way to Darnley, promising us abundance of water, coconuts, yams, and tortoise-shell, of the first of which at least they could have had none to spare. In the evening they left us, after spending the greater part of the day on board, with their canoe towing astern. I found the native names of at least three of the islands to differ from those given in the Admiralty's chart of Torres Strait from the Fly's survey. Thus Nepean Island is Edugor, not Oogar--Stephens Island is Ugar and not Attagor--and Campbell Island is Zapker (nearly as Lewis makes it) and not Jarmuth. These names were obtained under circumstances which obviated the possibility of mistake. Dzum also gave much information regarding other matters, and enabled me to fix the limits of the tribe to which he belonged, a matter which had frequently puzzled me before. In the afternoon the Bramble--as told to us by the natives--appeared in sight, but we could not reach Darnley Island, so anchored after dark in forty-five fathoms, mud, seven miles to the northward of it.
December 11th.
A light air from the North-West carried us up to the anchorage in Treacherous Bay about noon. A canoe from the village of Kiriam came off to us, and lay under our stern bartering tortoise-shell for knives, axes, and tobacco, and when we shoved off in the first cutter to communicate with the shore, one of the natives, on being asked to accompany us, jumped into the water without a moment's hesitation, and swam to the boat. We landed at Kiriam, and were received by a crowd of people on the rocks and in the water.
ARE RECEIVED IN A FRIENDLY MANNER.
My old friend Siwai, with whom I had gone through the ceremony of exchanging names nearly five years ago, showed much joy at seeing me again, and made many enquiries regarding Jukes and others then in the Fly. But these five years have sadly altered him--he now presents the appearance of a feeble emaciated man prematurely old, with a short cough and low voice--his back is bowed down, and even with the aid of a stick he can scarcely totter along. He is now the man in most authority in the island, his rival Mamus having been killed in New Guinea in company with several other Darnley Islanders whose names were mentioned to me; they had been on a visit to a friendly tribe, one of whose quarrels they espoused, and only a few returned to Errub to tell the tale. The natives wished us to stay at Kiriam, but as the principal object of the ship's coming to the island was to procure water, we were anxious to know whether it could be obtained in sufficient quantity at Bikar, where the Fly and Bramble had watered before. As Siwai told us that there was none at Bikar, but plenty at Mogor--his own village--we pulled along to the latter place, accompanied by himself and three of his sons. In passing along the south-west side of the island, we were struck with the superior richness of vegetation and apparent fertility, compared with what we had seen in New Guinea and the Louisiade Archipelago during the previous part of the cruise. Some portions reminded one of English park scenery--gently sloping, undulating, grassy hills, with scattered clumps and lines of trees.
UNABLE TO FIND WATER.
On landing at the village, which consists of two or three houses only, we were taken a quarter of a mile--by a path leading along a small valley through a grove of coconut-trees, bananas, and various cultivated plants (among which I observed the Mango in full bearing) to a pool of water in the dried-up bed of a small rivulet. But the quantity of water was not enough for our purpose, even had it been situated in a place more easy of access. Some magnificent Sago palms overhung the water with their large spreading fronds; these we were told had been brought from Dowde or New Guinea, many years ago. Siwai and his sons, at their own urgent request, were allowed a passage with us to the ship, and remained all night there, sleeping among the folds of a sail upon the poop.
December 12th.
In the morning a party landed at Bikar (abreast of the ship) to look for water, but the pool which on several occasions supplied the Fly, Bramble, and Prince George, was now dry. At this season too, during the prevalence of North-West winds, landing is difficult on account of the surf, and we had much trouble in keeping our guns dry while up to the waist in water. In the afternoon both cutters were sent to Mogor to procure vegetables for the ship's company by barter with the natives, and I accompanied the party, but, contrary to expectation, no one was allowed to land, the person in authority having seen something on shore to alarm him, the nature of which continued to us a mystery. The second cutter laid off, and the first remained in water about knee-deep, surrounded by a crowd of unarmed natives. The scene was at that time very animated--groups of men, women, and children, were to be seen staggering under a load of coconuts, wading out to the boats, scrambling to be first served, and shouting out to attract attention to their wares, which in addition included some tortoise-shell, a few yams, bananas and mangos. Siwai was present in the boat, and by exercising his authority in our behalf, matters went on more smoothly than otherwise might have been the case. A large supply of coconuts and a few vegetables having been obtained for axes, knives, calico, and red cloth, we returned to the ship.