enjoyment attached to the green foliage, the waving crops, and the
gently heaving sea, that threw over this new world of ours a charm
which filled our hearts with gladness.

Having returned to our ship, we saw the pilot-boat rapidly
approaching. As it came alongside, and we were hailed by the
steersman, we felt a sensation of wonder at hearing ourselves
addressed in English and by Englishmen, so far, so very far from the
shores of England. With this feeling, too, was mingled something
like pity; we could not help looking upon these poor boatmen, in
their neat costume of blue woollen shirts, canvass trousers, and
straw hats, as fellow-countrymen who had been long exiled from their
native land, and who must now regard us with eyes of interest and
affection, as having only recently left its shores.

No sooner was the pilot on board than the anchor was weighed, the
sails were set, and we began to beat up into the anchorage off
Fremantle. Night closed upon us ere we reached the spot proposed, and
we passed the interval in walking the deck and noting the stars come
forth upon their watch. The only signs of life and of human
habitation were in the few twinkling lights of the town of Fremantle:
all beside, on the whole length of the coast, seemed to be a desert
of sand, the back-ground of which was occupied with the dark outline
of an illimitable forest.

It was into this vast solitude that we were destined to penetrate.
It was a picture full of sombre beauty, and it filled us with solemn
thoughts.

The next morning we were up at daybreak. Certainly it was a