almost of Australian geography I fancied, on reaching the
western shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria, that I had struck the Coral
Sea, and that all I had to do was to strike north to reach Somerset, the
white settlement I had heard about from the pearlers. I felt so
confident Cape York lay immediately to the north, that I continued my
course in that direction, paddling all day and running in-shore to camp
at night. We lived mainly on shell-fish and sea-birds' eggs at this
time, and altogether life became terribly wearisome and monotonous. This,
however, was mainly owing to my anxiety.

About a fortnight after leaving the mouth of the Roper River we came to a
place which I now know to be Point Dale. We then steered south into a
beautiful landlocked passage which lies between the mainland and Elcho
Island, and which at the time I took to be the little strait running
between Albany Island and Cape York. I steered south-west in
consequence; and after a time, as I did not sight the points I was on the
look-out for, I felt completely nonplused. We landed on Elcho Island and
spent a day or two there. Being still under the impression that Cape
York was higher up, I steered west, and soon found myself in a very
unpleasant region. We explored almost every bay and inlet we came
across, but of course always with the same disheartening result.
Sometimes we would come near being stranded on a sandbank, and would have
to jump overboard and push our craft into deeper water. At others, she
would be almost swamped in a rough sea, but still we stuck to our task,
and after passing Goulbourn Island we followed the coast. Then we struck
north until we got among a group of islands, and came to Croker Island,
which goes direct north and south. Day after day we kept doggedly on,
hugging the shore very closely, going in and out of every bay, and
visiting almost every island, yet never seeing a single human being. We
were apparently still many hundreds of miles away from our destination.
To add to the wretchedness of the situation, my poor Yamba, who had been
so devoted, so hardy, and so contented, at length began to manifest
symptoms of illness, and complained gently of the weariness of it all.
"You are looking," she would say, "for a place that does not exist. You
are looking for friends of whose very existence you are unaware." I
would not give in, however, and persuaded her that all would be well in
time, if only she would continu