We had a fine breeze and pleasant weather, and in the afternoon reached our former anchorage in Evans Bay, Cape York, and moored ship in seven fathoms. A party was immediately sent to examine the waterholes, which promised, after a little clearing out, as abundant a supply as they afforded us last year. We met some of the natives who came down to the rocks as the boat landed, and among them I saw many old acquaintances who joyfully greeted us.
Rescue a white Woman from Captivity among the Natives. Her History. Bramble and boats complete the Survey of Torres Strait. Wini and the Mulgrave Islanders. Intercourse with the Cape York Natives. Nearly quarrel with them at a night dance. Witness a Native fight. Discover some fine country. Incidents of our stay. Many new Birds found. Remarks on the Climate, etc. of Cape York.
On the day after our arrival at Cape York the vessel from Sydney with our supplies anchored beside us, and besides provisions and stores, we had the additional pleasure of receiving five months' news from home.
HISTORY OF A WHITE WOMAN TAKEN BY THE BLACKS.
On October 16th, a startling incident occurred to break the monotony of our stay. In the afternoon some of our people on shore were surprised to see a young white woman come up to claim their protection from a party of natives from whom she had recently made her escape, and who, she thought, would otherwise bring her back. Of course she received every attention, and was taken on board the ship by the first boat, when she told her story, which is briefly as follows. Her name is Barbara Thomson: she was born at Aberdeen in Scotland, and along with her parents, emigrated to New South Wales. About four years and a half ago she left Moreton Bay with her husband in a small cutter (called the America) of which he was owner, for the purpose of picking up some of the oil from the wreck of a whaler, lost on the Bampton Shoal, to which place one of her late crew undertook to guide them; their ultimate intention was to go on to Port Essington. The man who acted as pilot was unable to find the wreck, and after much quarrelling on board in consequence, and the loss of two men by drowning, and of another who was left upon a small uninhabited island, they made their way up to Torres Strait, where, during a gale of wind, their vessel struck upon a reef on the Eastern Prince of Wales Island. The two remaining men were lost in attempting to swim on shore through the surf, but the woman was afterwards rescued by a party of natives on a turtling excursion, who, when the gale subsided, swam on board, and supported her on shore between two of their number. One of these blacks, Boroto by name, took possession of the woman as his share of the plunder; she was compelled to live with him, but was well treated by all the men, although many of the women, jealous of the attention shown her, for a long time evinced anything but kindness. A curious circumstance secured for her the protection of one of the principal men of the tribe a party from which had been the fortunate means of rescuing her, and which she afterwards found to be the Kowrarega, chiefly inhabiting Muralug, or the Western Prince of Wales Island. This person, named Piaquai, acting upon the belief (universal throughout Australia and the Islands of Torres Strait so far as hitherto known) that white people are the ghosts of the aborigines, fancied that in the stranger he recognised a long-lost daughter of the name of Giaom, and at once admitted her to the relationship which he thought had formerly subsisted between them; she was immediately acknowledged by the whole tribe as one of themselves, thus ensuring an extensive connection in relatives of all denominations. From the headquarters of the tribe with which Giaom thus became associated being upon an island which all vessels passing through Torres Strait from the eastward must approach within two or three miles, she had the mortification of seeing from twenty to thirty or more ships go through every summer without anchoring in the neighbourhood, so as to afford the slightest opportunity of making her escape. Last year she heard of our two vessels (described as two war canoes, a big and a little one) being at Cape York--only twenty miles distant--from some of the tribe who had communicated with us and been well treated, but they would not take her over, and even watched her more narrowly than before.
