willing to assist us in any way. They vehemently denied having seen any
white men, but acknowledged that some had been heard of on the Macalister
River, and thought they were detained by the tribes inhabiting its banks.
They were cognizant of our expedition up the Herbert, and knew that we were
searching Hinchinbrook, but never thought we should have found them in
their present position.

It was now evident that further search on Hinchinbrook was useless. There
was no reason to doubt the truth of what they told us, for Lizzie would
have gathered information had there been any outrage, or some small piece
of rag or blanket would have betrayed them. That the unfortunate men might
be on the Macalister was not improbable, and thither we must bend our
steps, as the last resource. If we were unsuccessful then, we could only
conclude that the vessel had foundered at sea, and we should have the
melancholy satisfaction of knowing that we had done everything in our power
to rescue the sufferers.

We camped for the night at one extremity of the little bay, while the
natives occupied the other, in which there was a well sunk, where we
supplied ourselves with fresh water. We soon became on friendly terms with
our wild neighbours, but took care never to linger amongst them singly, and
always had our weapons ready for immediate use.

In the evening Lizzie came over from the blacks' camp, where she had been
holding a great palaver, and asked us if we should like to see a
"corroborrie," or dance; and much pleased at getting a glimpse of the
native customs, and glad of anything to break the monotony of our lives, we
followed her to the group of palms, and there took up our positions to
watch the proceedings. A tremendous fire was soon flaming on the beach,
near it the gins and piccaninnies assembled, with bits of stick, clubs, and