Every effort to establish a friendly intercourse with the natives failed. They had undoubtedly watched, though unperceived, the effect of the white men’s weapons, and from awe and terror kept at a distance; still, when they had an opportunity, they showed their hostility to the strangers, and Mr Monkhouse narrowly escaped a spear thrown at him while he was wandering in the woods.

During the ship’s stay in Botany Bay, Captain Cook had the English colours hoisted every day on a flag-staff on shore, and caused the ship’s name, and the date of her visit, to be engraved on a tree near the watering-place.

At daybreak, on Tuesday, May 6, 1770, the Endeavour sailed from Botany Bay, and at noon the same day, in latitude 33 degrees 50 minutes South, she was abreast of a fine-looking harbour, to which Captain Cook gave the name of Port Jackson. Northerly winds prevented the ship from making much progress till, in latitude 32 degrees 40 minutes, another harbour was seen, and called Port Stephens. The ship continued her course to the north; smoke was frequently seen, and occasionally the natives were observed. The land increased considerably in height as she advanced, and in many places exhibited a pleasing variety of ridges, hills, valleys, and plains, all clothed with wood. A wide, open bay was passed in latitude 27 degrees 6 minutes, and called Moreton Bay.

It had now become necessary to lay the ship ashore, and Captain Cook’s object was to find a place where this might be accomplished with safety. Had he entered Port Jackson, he would have found one of the finest harbours in the world for his purpose. He several times anchored while proceeding along the coast, and landed to explore the country—the natives, as before, running off and hiding themselves. Rockingham Bay was passed and named, in latitude 17 degrees 59 minutes. Hitherto the Endeavour had met with no misfortune; but as she was now to make acquaintance with it, the point seen farthest to the north was called Cape Tribulation. It lies in latitude 16 degrees 4 minutes South, and longitude 145 degrees 26 minutes East.

One beautiful moonlight night, as the ship was speeding on her course with a fair wind, among the shoals of that coral sea, and while most of the officers and crew were tranquilly asleep, she suddenly struck upon a reef, and instantly roused every one on board to the horrors of shipwreck on an inhospitable coast, where they might linger for years without succour. However, the captain and his officers and crew were equal to the emergency, and by throwing everything weighty overboard that could be spared, the ship floated, but was making water rapidly. Had the weather been at all stormy, no human power could have saved their vessel. As it was, the fine weather continued long enough to enable them to draw a sail over the leak. This served the purpose of keeping her in sailing trim, until she was safely moored at the mouth of a creek, which was named Endeavour River. This was on June 17, and they remained there repairing the damage to the ship, as well as circumstances permitted, until August 4.

Although the Endeavour was now out of danger, her captain had still abundant cause for anxiety on another account: in spite of all his care, the fearful malady of scurvy had gained, and was still gaining ground among the ship’s company. Poor Tupia, who all his life had been accustomed to fresh fruit and vegetables, was among the chief sufferers, and symptoms were showing themselves which proved that the malignant disease had already made rapid progress. Mr Green, the astronomer, was also, among many others, stricken and disabled. As soon as possible, therefore, a tent was put up on shore for the reception of the sick, and recourse was had to nets, for providing fresh fish for the invalids.

The ground in the immediate neighbourhood of the river was either swampy, sandy, or stony. Mr Banks, who went on shore with his gun, saw great quantities of pigeons and crows: of the former, which were very beautiful, he shot several. He also saw some deserted human habitations, but no natives.

Four guns having been got up from the hold, were mounted on the quarter-deck of the ship, and the heavy stores and powder were landed, that her damages might be examined. It was, indeed, both wonderful and providential that she had escaped destruction; for not only had the sharp rock torn off the planking and worked its way into the timbers, but one point had cut a hole right through the bottom, and, breaking off, had happily remained fixed. Had it fallen out, no human power could have prevented the ship from foundering. Besides the leak, which was on the starboard side, the ship had sustained very extensive injury on the larboard. The sheathing from the bow on that side was torn off, and a great part of the false keel was gone. The carpenters at once commenced their work; and the forge was set up, that the smiths might make bolts and nails.

While this was going on, some of the people were sent on shore to shoot pigeons for the sick, and on their return they reported that they had found a stream of fresh water, and had seen several native huts, and an animal as large as a greyhound, of slender form, mouse-coloured, and very swift. The next day Captain Cook himself saw the same animal; it had a long tail, and leaped liked a hare or deer, and the prints of its feet were like those of a goat. For some time afterwards nothing more was seen of the animal, which Mr Banks, the naturalist, considered must be of some hitherto unknown species; so, indeed, it was, for it had no congeners in any quarter of the globe previously visited; though now the kangaroo is familiar enough to all readers of natural history, and it forms part of the arms of the colony of New South Wales.

Mr Banks likewise captured an Australian opossum, a female, with two young ones. This class of animal was formerly supposed to be peculiar to America, from whence its name is derived. Being nocturnal in their habits, nothing is to be seen of them in the daytime, unless you can catch a glimpse of one at noontide, sleeping soundly in the hollow of a tree. When night comes, they leap from bough to bough with the greatest animation, especially if it be moonlight. Some species, with thin membranes between the fore and hind paws, can take a flying leap of, sometimes, thirty yards from tree to tree; and hence they are called flying squirrels, though perfectly distinct in their nature, and in some of their habits, from that animal.