He started on the 21st of November last in the steamer Merrie England. At a point, which he says is beyond D'Albert's farthest, in 5° 54′ S., he found the river divides into two branches of equal size. One of these, named by him the Palmer, he followed up for eight days to the frontier. The whale-boat stopped at 605 miles from the mouth of the river. The first mountains met with in the ascent are on the frontier, and were not explored.
Speaking of the climate, he says: "The heat on the whole, has not been oppressive for this latitude. The average day temperature in the shade has been about 85° Fahr., but of course it is a moist heat. The health of the men has been fair, some having suffered from fever—short, sharp attacks."
At a point (not far from Ellengowan Island) above the estuary, the river was found to be 599 yards wide, the rate of current midstream about 3¾ miles an hour, and at 50 yards from the banks about 2¾ miles; the depth was five to six fathoms. The influence of the tide was not observed above 120 miles from the mouth. As a waterway he says "the Fly river will supply excellent means of transport. After proceeding 100 miles the river is very monotonous, and continues so for the next 80 miles. The forest produces no food for man. For European settlement, such a country, as far as can be judged, is quite unsuitable; but, of course, no man can speak of the country beyond a mile or two from the river, the greatest distance to which we could penetrate."
Of the natives of the large island of Kiwai, in the delta, Sir Wm. Macgregor speaks favourably.
The island is about thirty-six miles long and two and a half broad. Sir William went round it twice, and walked across it once, visiting all the villages, and was everywhere treated with great friendliness. The total population he puts at 5,000. They produce large quantities of vegetable food, which may in future create a considerable export trade. The cultivation of the banana receives from them much attention. They have no fewer than thirty-six different varieties. They also plant and cultivate sago trees, of which they distinguish twenty-five varieties; of yams they grow twenty kinds, three of which are remarkably good; and of sweet potatoes ten, two of which are suitable for exportation. They possess no knowledge of pottery. The sole utensil is a large slipper-shell. Its name is "wedere," and the consequence is that the Kiwai native has no other name than "wedere" for all our pots and pans and different kinds of dishes.
In August news reached me of the murder of two white men by the natives of Cloudy Bay, South coast. Both men were well-known to me; one of them I had known for many years. Their names were "Jimmy McTeer" and "Frenchy."
They had been in the Louisiades digging for gold, had been fairly successful, and had arrived in Samarai early in July, where I saw a good deal of them. They had a great idea of thoroughly prospecting the mainland for gold, and intended to start from the head of Milne Bay, which is on the south-east coast, and make their way overland to Port Moresby, and determine, once and for ever, whether the country carried gold. It was a most hazardous undertaking for two men to attempt, but they were plucky young fellows, used to "roughing it" and without fear.
I entertained serious notions of accompanying them, but fortunately, as events proved, I was suffering from fever and was unable to withstand the fatigues of the journey.
"Frenchy" had about 16 ozs. of gold. I advised him to leave it behind at Samarai, in case of accidents, but he decided to take it with him, as it might come in handy when he reached Port Moresby. I suggested that it would be as well to wear a suit of armour, as in their journey they would meet with thousands of savages. They considered my suggestion a good one, so we fixed some corrugated iron on to a coco-nut tree. We then stood 30 paces off and hurled spears against it. The experiment proved a failure, the spear penetrating the iron into the tree.
They then suggested tortoise-shell, but whether they carried out the idea or not I cannot say.