'Daylight'. The sail was soon clapped on, the little vessel heeled over to
the sea-breeze now setting in pretty stiffly, and ten minutes after
quitting the shore we were down in the hold, the captain and his lady
occupying the cabin. Making our preparations for the night, which
consisted, I may mention, mainly of spreading out our blankets, whilst the
'Daylight', with the Government whale-boat towing astern, was beating up
against the adverse wind for the north end of Hinchinbrook, where we
purposed anchoring for the night, and commencing our search on the
following morning.

What with a contrary wind and tide, it was not until past ten o'clock that
we glided into the little bay, and, shortening sail as noiselessly as
possible, let down the anchor by hand to avoid the rattling of the chain
through the hawsehole, which, in the stillness of the night, would have
certainly reached the keen ears of the blacks, were there any in the
neighbourhood, and caused them to shift their quarters. The little inlet
or creek in which we now found ourselves, was entirely new to us, and we
were indebted to Lizzie for the discovery of such a quiet retreat. With
straining eyes, our novel pilotess stood at the heel of the bowsprit,
extending an arm in the direction she wished the vessel to go, and, her
task completed, she wrapped her blanket round her active little body,
scarcely shrouded in the striped twill shirt that constituted her sole
attire, and, sinking down in the waterways under the lee of the gunwale,
was soon sound asleep -- a sensible proceeding, which, as soon as
everything was secured, we hastened to imitate.

We had arranged our plans for the morrow in the following manner. Before
dawn, the whale-boat was to land all the party, including Lizzie, with the
exception of the pilot and his two men. He was to return to the 'Daylight'
after having put us ashore, and, getting under weigh as soon as the wind