Nothing remarkable was observed about Tasman's Head, except two small islands lying off it, at the distance of half or three quarters of a mile; and close to them were the two conical basaltic rocks named by Captain Furneaux the Friars. The vegetation upon the inner most of the two small islands had been burnt in a manner similar to that on the De Witt's isles. If it were possible to account for those fires in any other way than by the agency of man, it would be more satisfactory, than to suppose that people, always believed to be without canoes, had crossed over from a rather steep and rocky head, to an island equally rocky, but more steep. Having passed Fluted Cape, a fine piece of basalt, and Penguin island, they fetched up under Cape Frederick Henry, the north point of Adventure Bay; but, as the wind blew strong directly off it, and the sloop was light and leewardly, they bore away round the Cape Frederick Henry, hauling upon the north side of it into the bay of that name, purposing to go into the Derwent river, discovered a few years since by Mr. Hayes, master of the ship _Duke_, of Bengal: but, finding that they were likely to lose ground by tacking, they stood into Henshaw's bay (so named by Hayes), and were greatly surprised to find that, instead of its being a mere shallow bight, as laid down in Mr. Hayes's chart, it extended many miles to the northward. The whole now bears the name of Frederick Henry Bay; that given by Hayes is lost. In this very extensive bay they remained a week, traversing and measuring various parts of its shores. The surrounding country was found to be miserable, presenting but very little that was fit even for pasturage, and none good enough for cultivation, except near a shallow lagoon on the west side, on the border of which were seven or eight hundred acres of low ground, of a black mould, rather sandy, which might be cultivated with great advantage. Contiguous to the best part, was a large fresh water swamp, overgrown with reeds and bulrushes. In the evening of the 21st they entered the mouth of the Derwent. In passing between two islands, the heads of the seaweed, which, from its size, is named the Gigantic, were showing themselves above the surface in six or eight fathoms water: a diminutive plant when compared with those of the kind seen in higher latitudes, but of vast magnitude in comparison with the generality of seaweeds. On their various movements in the Derwent, Mr. Bass is silent, confining his narrative to a general account of what he learned and saw of the neighbouring country.