the most earnest and silent attention. Several of them
moved their hands, involuntarily, according to the motions; and the old
man placed himself at the end of the rank, with a short staff in his
hand, which he shouldered, presented, grounded, as did the marines their
muskets, without, I believe, knowing what he did. Before firing, the
Indians were made acquainted with what was going to take place; so that
the volleys did not excite much terror."

Seaman Smith was naturally much interested in the aboriginals, whose
features were however to him "quite awful, having such large mouths and
long teeth." They were totally without clothing, and "as soon as they saw
our tents they run into the bushes with such activity that would pawl any
European to exhibit. Because our men would not give them a small
tommy-hawk they began to throw pieces of wood at them, which exasperated
our men; but orders being so humane towards the natives that we must put
up with anything but heaving spears." Furthermore, "they rubbd their skin
against ours, expecting some mark of white upon their's, but finding
their mistake they appeared surprised."

Pleasures more immediately incidental to geographical discovery--those
pleasures which eager and enterprising minds must experience, however
severe the labour involved, on traversing portions of the globe
previously unknown to civilised mankind--commenced after the head of the
Great Bight was passed. From about the vicinity of Fowler's Bay (named
after the first lieutenant of the Investigator) the coast was virgin to
geographical science. Comparisons of original work with former charts
were no longer possible. The ship was entering un-navigated waters, and
the coasts delineated were new to the world's knowledge. The quickening
of the interest in the work in hand, which touched both officers and men
of the expedition, can be felt by the reader of Flinders' narrative.
There was a consciousness of having crossed a line separating what simply
required verification and amplification, from a totally fresh field of
research. Every reach of coastline now traversed was like a cable, long
buried in the deep of time, at length hauled into daylight, with its oozy
deposits of seaweed, shell and mud lying thick upon it.

Contingent upon discovery was the pleasure of naming important features
of the coast. It is doubtful whether any other single navigator in
history applied names which are still in use to so many capes,