The channel narrowed till it was not more than three hundred yards or so wide. Pigeon Island lay on our left, with deep water right up to its precipitous rocky bank. The island is one rocky coral mass, with scarce a sign of vegetation. Its surface is covered with mounds of rocks thrown together or built into rough walls gleaming white in the sun, and we are told that these stones were built up as they were removed from the deposit of guano which was worked here. Sixteen hundred tons of this useful manure has been shipped from the island, which has an area of perhaps 200 acres. Going ashore we find it a barren, inhospitable rock—a gull or mollyhawk sits here or there—a few hover about, but there is no sign of the bird life which we were prepared to see here in such abundance. Since the removal of the guano, the island appears to have been so disturbed that the birds have almost entirely forsaken it. It is too rough to walk about on with any comfort, so, looking round it, we return to the dinghy and put off to the boat, where luncheon is ready for us.To the right, and about half a mile away, is East Wallaby Island. From the deck we see the channel line clearly defined against the shoal water, out of which the island rises. As four of our party have to get back by Monday to resume their business—and this is Saturday—some of those who are going to remain put off in the afternoon to Wallaby Island to select a camp in which to wait till the boat returns from Geraldton, whither she is to start on Sunday morning. We expect her to return by Tuesday, at furthest. There is little likelihood of rain, and we are going to camp on the beach, with the prospect of plenty of sport in fishing and wallaby and pigeon shooting. The dinghy puts off with four of the party, her full capacity, but ere she has reached halfway to the shore the water suddenly shoals and they have to get out and walk the remaining distance up to their knees in water, over the sharp coral rocks which form the base on which the island stands. It is fortunate that we brought strong, heavy boots with us, for the sharp coral would have cut light ones to pieces, and it would be impossible to walk over that stretch of shallow water in the bare feet. The prospecting party returned in a couple of hours with a couple of wallabies, and reported having found a good wind-break, where Mr. Drewry had camped some twelve months or so ago. In the afternoon the dinghy was again despatched with provisions, cooking utensils, and a sail to cover over the wind-break, and so provide a shade shelter for the eatables. Those left on board the boat put out the lines and in a very short time had a good bucketful of small schnapper. Mr. Randell proved himself to be the piscatorialist-in-chief, and to the culinary skill of Mr. Nathan we owed a delightfully fried fish supper.

In the morning wading operations had to be renewed, while breakfast was being prepared, and bedding and water, were transported to the camp. Our case of beer was sensibly diminishing. The Governor of North Carolina would have his say, and, amongst other things which we were to give was an order to the boat to bring out from Geraldton, was another case, so as to give “His Excellency,” as someone remarked, a fair show. The transportation of our party and bedding, however, took two trips of the dinghy—and in the hurry of our departure, the order for the beer was forgotten, and not thought of till the boat had hoisted sail and was fairly under way. One of the legal members of our party thought he could convey the message by signs, and, holding up a bottle and shouting frantically, he ran along the shoal water towards the boat, when, tripping over a sharp piece of coral, he fell headlong with a splash into a deeper hole, amid roars of laughter from boat and shore, in which further opportunity for conveying the message to the fast receding boat was lost. We sadly realised that, if not absolute teetotallers, we would at least have to place ourselves on short commons, as far as beer was concerned, for the remainder of the trip. Water which has been stored for some days in a boat’s tanks is not the pleasantest of drinking. There were eight days of the trip yet to do, and only eighteen bottles of beer and four of whisky amongst six of us. Mr. Baston was placed in charge of the liquor, while one other learned member of the Bar was placed in possession of our only corkscrew, with strict injunctions that neither was to listen to the syren voice of the Governor of Carolina, except twice a day, and then only when every member of the party was present—an injunction which it is gratifying to note, they both rigidly adhered to.

Wallaby Island is about three miles long by a little over a mile wide, and is the hilliest of the group. Sand-hills have been blown to a height of about 50 feet, and cover a good portion of the bare coral rocks, of which the island is composed. The sand is mixed to some extent with guano, and for the most part the island is well clothed with short scrubby vegetation. About a quarter of a mile north of our camp, which we named “Point Desolation,” a mast has been erected on the summit of the highest hill as a beacon to navigators of the intricate channels in the neighborhood. Some 200 yards north-east of this beacon, on bare limestone rocks, is a natural well, or gnamma hole, about ten feet deep, with a good supply of drinkable water. It is well for tourists to know of the existence of this well, as otherwise the islands appear to be devoid of fresh water.

Wallabies are fairly numerous on this island, but as the island is of very limited extent, they should be protected from indescriminate destruction, except for food. A party with a few guns would exterminate them all in a week or two. Pigeons also are fairly plentiful. Most of these islands are merely banks of dead coral elevated only a few feet above the sea and devoid of vegetation, and on those few exceptions which are capable of supporting animal life, the game at least should be preserved as a possible means of life to shipwrecked or weather-bound crews who may be compelled to remain on them for some time. The southern shore of the island is, for the most part, bare and rocky bluff headland, but on the northern side there is a pleasant beach extending up to Turtle Bay, the only really pretty and pleasant spot on the whole island—or indeed on any which we visited. There the sandy beach shelves gradually out into deep water, and while there we daily walked the three miles along the beach to the bay to bathe, and spend most of the day. Plenty of sponges, known as the abdominal variety, lie about on the beach. They are, of course, dried, and for the most part rotted by the weather and exposure, but some are of fine texture, and appear to show that the waters may be worth prospecting with a view to opening up the industry. The pretty little Lesser Tern is numerous among the bird life. She lays a brown spotted egg in exposed situations on the bare rock. In the season they are said to possess a delicate flavor. Some hundreds were gathered.

Tuesday evening arrived, and no sail was visible from our look-out on the hill. Our last loaf was cut into for supper, and, unless the boat arrived soon, we would have to bake a damper, but the difficulty was in getting wood enough for the fire to bake it in. We, however, had plenty of potatoes and onions, and crayfish were plentiful, so we were in no fear of starvation, but it was disappointing for the boat not to have showed up. With a few pigeons shot by Mr. Kidd and curried crayfish and vegetables, we regaled ourselves, and washing our supper down with our evening modicum of beer, turned in on the sands and talked till we fell asleep. The wallabies, unaccustomed to seeing men or dogs, are exceedingly tame, and during the night hopped about the camp within a few yards of our beds.