There are many beautiful waterfalls. Lots of them tumble right down into the sea from the steep cliffs and for over a hundred years ships have come here for fresh water, whalers and pirates and merchant ships or “tramps.” One stream empties right into the Bay. There are many beautiful ferns and tree-ferns and tall jungle trees. The tangle of vines is very thick, and the only way to go into the interior of the island at all is to follow along the beds of streams and climb up rocks and waterfalls and around cascades for the sides of the brooks are like solid walls and there are not many places where you can get up. We went up a lovely stream bed one day from Chatham Bay. We pulled ourselves up rocks and around bad places and stepped into deep pools sometimes up to our necks. We had gone at least a mile and a half up the river, climbing steadily, when we came to a beautiful little cascade that fell down a cliff about seventy feet high. I was catching small blue crayfish in the pool at the foot of it when I lost my balance and fell down onto a jagged rock. For a time I could hardly bear the pain of it and just sat and cried. Mother and Isabel and Betty were all afraid I might have broken a leg or something. They were awfully worried for we were so far from the shore and had climbed waterfalls all morning to get there. But it was only a terribly bad bruise and I was glad Mother was so strong. She had to practically carry me and lower me down over rocks and waterfalls all the way back. We stopped to eat our lunch on a lovely huge bowlder in the middle of the stream about half way down. After resting a while I felt a little better and could help myself getting down hard places. It would be awful to break an arm or a leg or even to sprain one’s ankle in such a place for even a trail is impossible there and it is very hard to carry anyone down such a place. Mother was pretty tired, especially as she had a bad sunburn on her back and shoulders and I broke the blisters by putting my arms around her to steady myself, and sometimes I even had to climb down her back to lower myself from one high rock to another six feet below. The night before this trip up the river, we had a furious gale. The wind blew harder than I ever felt it, and for a time the rain came in a solid mass like a warm wet curtain, streaming across the decks. Everything was soaked, chairs fell over, curtains were tangled up, doors slammed. And then the boobies kept flying right into the ship banging their heads and bodies against things and stunning themselves. They dropped headlong into the “lab” where we were sitting, they fell to the floor in our cabins if the doors were open for a minute, and all over the decks the poor things were crouching around squawking. And they vomited up fish all over the place.