wives and children, also occupied portions of the time we were delayed here, which without employment, would have been tedious. In pleading with some of these people on the importance of a practical application of the doctrines of the Gospel, by those who profess to be christians, we desired them to judge of the corrupt state of their own hearts, at least, by that token which was obvious to others; viz., the practice of cursing and swearing. They took our counsel in good part; and whether changed from principle or not, became more circumspect.

There was something peculiarly interesting and affecting to my mind, in bringing the sound of the Gospel into this desolate part of the earth; where perhaps, since the days in which the world itself was called into existence, it was never before heard; and in proclaiming it as the message of mercy, to the people we brought with us—the only human beings in the place-whose hearts appeared to be as desolate as the hills by which we were surrounded.

5th mo. 29th. The wind having become more favourable, the sheep were brought on board, and while preparation was making for sailing, G. W. Walker and the carpenter landed me on one of the islets at the mouth of the harbour, to cut Native Parsley and a variety of shrubs for provender. This islet is composed of a substance resembling Asbestos, and is fronted on the inside by vertical veins of quartz. In the middle is a deep cove with a hole through to the outside, the surf beating against which forms a jet of spray within many feet high, resembling the blowing of a whale. We boarded the Tamar on her passage out, and were soon again at sea, where the fair wind failed, and we stood off the land for the night.

On the morning of the 30th, we had a view of Point Hibbs, and of a high, domed rock named the Pyramid. A series of heavy gales in the course of the four succeeding days, drove us far northward of our port. When we were laid to, the wind blew the topsail out of the bolt-rope, and while it was undergoing repair, we beat down the rocky coast with sails only just sufficient to enable us to keep off the shore. Scarcely anything was cooked during this period, and few

44

ENTRANCE OF MACQUARIE HARBOUR.

[6th mo.

Most of the time we

persons on board were disposed to eat. kept in our berths, which were warm and dry. The motion of the vessel was too great to allow a person to walk, or even to stand without hold, and we were unable from this cause combined with sickness, to wash or shave.

Some Black and Wandering Albatrosses were continually soaring around us; and a flock of the beautiful Petrels, called Cape Pigeons, kept close to our stern, generally on the wing, but often swimming, or running on the water after anything cast from the ship. The wind howls, and the sea rages in vain to these birds. They keep on the wing in the fiercest tempests, and swim with ease on the most boisterous waves. It was a trying time for all on board, especially for the poor women and children; into whose quarters the water several times found its way in torrents. The perplexities that sometimes arose, occasioned some of the soldiers to quarrel and swear, even when the vessel seemed ready to be overwhelmed ; so inveterate was this evil habit! It was a season of trial both of our faith and patience; but the belief that we were in our right places was sustaining.

On the morning of the 4th of 6th month, land was descried through the hazy atmosphere, and all sail was made with a varying but generally favourable wind, till we came distinctly in view of Cape Sorell, at the entrance of Macquarie Harbour. On approaching nearer, we were thrown into much perplexity, no signal being made from the pilot's station for an hour and a half, either to approach nearer or to stand off. During this time we stood backward and forward outside the dangerous bar, which is of wide extent, while the sea was again getting up. At length, when about to run back for shelter to Port Davey, we were descried, and a signal to enter was hoisted. We immediately stood in, and in a few minutes the opportunity to return was past. The pilot put off, knowing better than ourselves, our danger: his boat could only be seen now and then above the billows; but he was soon alongside, and ordered all the sails to be squared, that we might go right before the wind. On coming on board, he commanded the women and children below, and then came to me, and advised me to go below also. I replied, that if we were lost I should

like to see the last of it, for the sight was awfully grand. Laying hold of a rope at the stern, he said, “Then put your arm round this rope and don't speak a word." To my companion he gave similar instructions, placing him at the opposite quarter. A man was sent into the chains on each side, with the sounding lead. The pilot went to the bows, and nothing was now to be heard through the roar of the wind and waves, but his voice calling to the helmsman, the helmsman's answer, and the voices of the men in the chains, counting off the fathoms as the water became shallower. The vessel was cast alternately from one side to the other, to prevent her sticking on the sand, in which case the billows would have run over her, and have driven her upon a sand-bank a mile from the shore, on which they were breaking with fury. The fathoms decreased, and the men counted off the feet, of which we drew 7, and there were but seven in the hollow of the sea, until they called out eleven feet. At this moment a huge billow carried us forward on its raging head into deep water. The pilot's countenance relaxed: he looked like a man reprieved from under the gallows, and coming aft, shook hands with each individual, congratulating them on a safe arrival in Macquarie Harbour.

We now soon entered into the inlet, which is about twentyfive miles long, and from three to seven miles broad, by a narrow passage between two rocks, called "The Gates," or from the nature of the settlement, "Hells Gates;" many of the prisoners recklessly asserting that all who entered in hither, were doomed to eternal perdition. We had a fine sail up the Harbour; and on arriving off Sarahs Island, about twenty miles from the entrance, were boarded by the commissariat officer, surgeon, &c.—all anxious to hear what was going on in the world, they having had no tidings for more than three months. They gave us a hearty welcome, and conveyed us to the Settlement, where I became the guest of Major Baylee, and G. W. Walker took up his quarters with our fellow-voyager, J. A. Manton; for whom, as missionary, a house was in readiness.

After a short time spent in conversation, each of us retired to rest, thankful to the Lord, who had answered the prayers

put up to him on the raging seas, for deliverance from the stormy tempest; when the billows, spiritually as well as outwardly, at times went over our heads. We cried unto God, who commands the winds and the seas and they obey him. We called to mind the situation of the disciples of his Son, when he was asleep in a tempest and they were afraid, and remembered, that when he arose and rebuked the wind, there was a great calm. We put our trust in his name, and renewed our confidence in the Father of mercies through him. Our minds became comforted by his Holy Spirit: we laid us down and slept, being sensible that he sustained us. And now that he had permitted us again to land in safety, we could adopt the language of the Psalmist. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits: who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies."

We remained 17 days at the settlement on Sarahs Island, making occasional excursions to the out-posts; and, notwithstanding, the place has since been abandoned, on account of its distance from Hobart Town, and the difficulty of access to it, and the prisoners have been transferred to Port Arthur, on Tasmans Peninsula, I propose in the ensuing chapter to introduce some notice of it, and of the discipline of the prisoners, as being an interesting portion of the nearly uninhabited, western side of V. D. Land, and exhibiting a specimen of the discipline of one of the older Penal Settle

ments.

CHAPTER IV.

Macquarie Harbour.-Mountains.-Trees.-Rivers.-Sarahs Island.-Timber.State of Prisoners.-Mortality.-Murders.-Privations.-Escapes.--Cannibalism.-Example.-Punishment -Reformation. Pious Prisoner.-Depravity. -Employment.-Provisions.-Pine-roads.-Philips Island.-Ferns.-Health. -Climate.-Spirits.-Bermuda Prisoners -Wellington Head.-Jail Meetings. -Prisoner Steward.-Spaniel and Blackfish.-Aborigines.—Kelp.-Lichen.Birds.

Macquarie Harbour did not present the desolate appearance which we had been given to expect. The mountains along the east side are not nearly so bare as those of Port Davey, the rock only projecting above the soil on the tops of the highest. The most striking mountains are Mount Discovery, to the south, Mount Sorell, to the east, and Mount Zeehaan and Heemskerk, to the north. The herbage on their sides is coarse and deep; it looks grassy from a distance, but probably may not be so in reality. The scrub of the gullies runs into deep wood on the lower grounds. Deep wood also clothes many of the hills. The prevalence of Myrtle-Fagus Cunninghamii-and other trees of dark foliage, gives a very sombre appearance to the forests. These extend also over the low hills at the foot of the mountains, and up the west side of the harbour, about ten miles, toward Cape Sorell. Behind the mountains on the east of Macquarie Harbour, rises a magnificent, snow covered range; the most striking point of which is the Frenchmans Cap, having the form of a quarter of a sphere, perpendicular on the south, and towering to 5,000 feet above the level of the sea. This is probably the highest point of V. D. Land. The south end of the harbour is more level and less woody. A wide inlet called Birches River opens into it, and a little to the east, the Gordon River, which is navigable for 30 or 40 miles, but