but the rain squalls were now left behind, and the air became clearer. At 8 a.m. on Sunday, August 2nd, on rounding a bend, a change of scenery took place; a grassy flat appearing ahead, and to the westward of us the country appeared more open from E.N.E. to S.E., and a little further up I found that the river formed a large circle, and branched to the E.S.E. and N.N.E. I kept to the easterly one, as it turned to the north a little higher up; but the other branch (which I have since named the Service River) will, I think be found to connect with the river Fly at Snake Point, opposite the junction of the Alice River—in fact that south-south-easterly branch which D'Albertis speaks of. The river now got much more difficult to navigate, on account of the large snags in the middle of the stream. The water constantly undermining the concave bank, when the freshets come down very large portions of the bank are washed away, leaving the trees in the middle of the river, where they lodge, and in places almost form rapids. For instance, we passed close here some enormous trees grounded in 45 feet of water, and forming a fence of snags in two or three places right across the river, leaving barely room for the "Bonito" to steer between them. A few miles above Service Junction we saw some canoes full of people, who at first showed a hostile front, but, as we approached nearer, deserted their canoes and took to the jungle. I showed a white flag, and made friendly signs, but without effect, and landing a party tried to communicate but did not succeed in assuring them of our friendly intentions. I left them some presents of cloth, tomahawks, tobacco, beads, &c., and selecting some articles from their canoes, which were very full of their household goods, proceeded on our voyage. The current was now getting too strong for us to stem when burning a mixture of wood and coal, as we had been doing for some days, and we had to burn all coal to get steam enough to make headway at all. On Monday, August 3rd, our first and only serious brush with the natives occurred. Early in the morning we saw a number of canoes on a sand-spit, and on approaching, finding some of the natives standing their ground, I took the dingy, and with two Malays, pulled for the shore, standing up in the boat with my arms outstretched to give them confidence, and to show that I was not armed. I landed, thinking that the fact of my being unarmed and distributing presents among them, would perhaps gain their friendship and confidence, but I soon found myself placed in a very critical position; the natives increasing in numbers, and coming up in full war paint, brandishing their weapons, and some of them pointing their arrows at me. In fact, the only way I prevented them from shooting was by walking towards such of them as appeared the most hostile, and assuming an unconcern which I confess I was far from feeling. I remained on shore perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes
