egrees 13 minutes, and, moreover, as the
position assigned this shoal lies so much in the track of vessels running
between Hobart and Sydney, there is every reason to doubt its existence.)

EAST COAST OF TASMANIA.

On the 23rd, we passed along the east coast of Tasmania, at the distance
of eight miles. The weather being fine and the water smooth, we had
frequent opportunities of testing the accuracy of the present chart,
which we found to be about three miles in error both in latitude and
longitude; the latter with respect to the meridian of Fort Mulgrave.*

(*Footnote. Strange to say, the position assigned this place in the
chart, 147 degrees 28 minutes East is much in error with regard to
longitude, as Fort Mulgrave is 3 degrees 52 minutes 35 seconds West of
Sydney, or 147 degrees 23 minutes 25 seconds East; this, with the error I
have already alluded to in the east coast of Tasmania, the most available
one for shipping, points out the necessity of having the survey of that
island completed.)

JOURNEY TO LAUNCESTON.

Next afternoon we entered the Derwent and anchored off Hobart. Finding
that his Excellency Sir John Franklin had just left for Launceston, I
proceeded thither to wait on him. Our stay in the Derwent depending on a
favourable change in the weather, it was necessary that we should be
always in readiness to leave, and accordingly I travelled by the fastest
conveyance, the mail-cart, a sort of gig drawn by one horse, which,
however, by means of frequent changes and good cattle, manages to average
nine miles an hour. It leaves Hobart, at half-past seven P.M., and
reaches Launceston a little before eleven the following morning. It was a
cold, bleak night; but as the road was excellent, and I was well muffled
up, with my feet in a bag, the time passed cheerily. The general topic of
conversation during the journey was about some three desperate
bushrangers,* who appeared to keep all the innkeepers in dread of a
visit. At one place we stopped at, the host came up with a rueful
countenance, and told us that it was only the previous night that he had
been stuck up, with a pistol at his head, while they took what they
wanted from his larder.

(*Footnote. The most notorious of these characters was one Michael Howe,
who became a bushranger in 1812. In 1817 he separated from his party,
taking with him a native girl, whom he shot when hotly pursued, because
he imagined she might occasion delay. He twice surrendered