his departing light, that
slowly turned to rose-colour ere the shades of evening crept over all,
and the stars began to peep out, one by one. We could trace from the
summit to the base of a lofty mountain the course of a stupendous
avalanche, which had recently rushed down into the sea, crushing and
destroying everything in its way, and leaving a broad track of
desolation behind it. It must for a time have completely filled up the
narrow channel; and woe to any unfortunate vessel that might happen to
be there at such a moment!

Port Grappler is rather a difficult place to make in the dark; but
Tom managed it with much dexterity, and by eight o'clock we were
safely anchored for the night. We all wanted Tom to stay here
to-morrow to get some rest, which he much needs, but he has determined
to start at five o'clock in the morning as usual, for fear of being
caught by bad weather. Even I, who have of course had no anxiety as to
the navigation, felt so fatigued from having been on the bridge the
whole day since very early this morning, that I went straight to bed
before dinner, in order to be ready for to-morrow.

[Illustration: Indian Reach]

_Thursday, October 12th_.--A day as perfect as yesterday succeeded a
clear cold night. We weighed anchor at 5.15 a.m., and, retracing our
course for a few miles, passed round the end of Saumarez Island, and
entered the narrow channel leading to Indian Reach. The greatest care
is here necessary, to avoid several sunken rocks, which have already
proved fatal to many ships, a large German steamer having been wrecked
as recently as last year. The smooth but treacherous surface of the
channel reflected sharply the cliffs and foliage, and its mirror-like
stillness was only broken at rare intervals, by the sudden appearance
of a seal in search of a fresh supply of air, or by the efforts,
delayed until the very last moment, of a few steamer-ducks, gannets,
or cormorants, to get out of our way.

Having accomplished the passage of Indian Reach in safety, we were
just passing Eden Harbour, when the cry of 'Canoe ahead!' was raised.
A boat was seen paddling out towards us from behind Moreton Island,
containing about half-a-dozen people, apparently armed with bows and
arrows and spears, and provided with fishing-rods, which projected on
either side. One man was standing up and waving, in a very excited
manner, something which turned out ultimately to be a piece of
cotton-waste. Our engines ha