erset was on
the north-east, at the extremity of the Cape York Peninsula.

My tongue or pen can never tell what those young ladies were to me in my
terrible exile. They would recite passages from Sir Walter Scott's
works--the "Tales of a Grandfather" I remember in particular; and so
excellent was their memory that they were also able to give me many
beautiful passages from Byron and Shakespeare. I had always had a great
admiration for Shakespeare, and the girls and myself would frequently act
little scenes from "The Tempest," as being the most appropriate to our
circumstances. The girls' favourite play, however, was Pericles, "Prince
of Tyre." I took the part of the King, and when I called for my robes
Yamba would bring some indescribable garments of emu skin, with a gravity
that was comical in the extreme. I, on my part, recited passages from
the French classics--particularly the Fables of La Fontaine, in French;
which language the girls knew fairly well.

And we had other amusements. I made some fiddles out of that peculiar
Australian wood which splits into thin strips. The strings of the bow we
made out of my own hair; whilst those for the instrument itself were
obtained from the dried intestines of the native wild-cat.

We lined the hut with the bark of the paper-tree, which had the
appearance of a reddish-brown drapery.

The native women made us mats out of the wild flax; and the girls
themselves decorated their room daily with beautiful flowers, chiefly
lilies. They also busied themselves in making garments of various kinds
from opossum skins. They even made some sort of costume for me, but I
could not wear it on account of the irritation it caused.

The natives would go miles to get fruit for the girls--wild figs, and a
kind of nut about the size of a walnut, which, when ripe, was filled with
a delicious substance looking and tasting like raspberry jam. There was
also a queer kind of apple which grew upon creepers in the sand, and of
which we ate only the outer part raw, cooking the large kernel which is
found inside. I do not know the scientific name of any of these things.

I often asked the girls whether they had altogether despaired in the
clutches of the cannibal chief; and they told me that although they often
attempted to take their own lives, yet they had intervals of bright
hope--so strong is the optimism of youth. My apparition, they told me,
seemed like a dream to them.

The natives,