They were made of extremely hard wood, and were undoubtedly capable
of doing considerable injury when dexterously and accurately
thrown. The blacks kept up a terrific hubbub on shore, yelling
like madmen, and hurling at me showers of barbed spears. The fact
that they had boomerangs convinced me that I must be nearing the
Australian mainland. All this time the current was carrying the
Veielland rapidly along, and I had soon left the natives jabbering
furiously far behind me.

At last I could see the open sea once more, and at the mouth of the
strait was a little low, wooded island, where I thought I might
venture to land. As I was approaching it, however, yet another
crowd of blacks, all armed, came rushing down to the beach; they
jumped into their catamarans, or "floats," and paddled out towards
me.

After my previous experience I deemed it advisable not to let them
get too near, so I hoisted the mainsail again and stood for the
open sea. There was a good supply of guns and ammunition on board,
and it would have been an easy matter for me to have sunk one or
two of the native catamarans, which are mere primitive rafts or
floats, and so cooled their enthusiasm a bit; but I refrained, on
reflecting that I should not gain anything by this action.

By this time I had abandoned all hope of ever coming up with my
friends, but, of course, I did not despair of reaching land--
although I hardly knew in what direction I ought to shape my
course. Still, I thought that if I kept due west, I should
eventually sight Timor or some other island of the Dutch Indies,