Whilst here, I was informed that a small party of natives were still at large, though seldom seen, keeping in the remotest recesses of the woods. They thus succeeded in avoiding for some years their enemy the white man. Indeed it was only when pressed by hunger that these aboriginal possessors of the soil ventured to emerge from their hiding-places, and rob some of the Company's out-stations of flour. By these means, however, it was that a knowledge was obtained of their existence. For, though they managed so secretly, that it was some time before they were found out, a shepherd at an out-station, began at last frequently to miss flour and tobacco* in a very mysterious manner. He determined accordingly to watch, but was for a long time unsuccessful. At length he saw a native woman steal into the hut, when he drew the door to by a line which communicated with his place of concealment. Of the treatment this poor woman received from the hands of her captor I shall treat hereafter. After being kept a prisoner some time, she was sent to Flinders Island; but it was long before the discovery was made that she had any companions. I was informed that the shepherd who took her, afterwards lost his life by the spear of a native, probably impelled by revenge. (*Footnote. The fondness exhibited by the aborigines who inhabit the southern parts of Australia for smoking is extraordinary.) SAIL FOR THE RIVER TAMAR. We completed our operations on the evening of the day on which we arrived, namely, December 18th, and left for the Tamar river, in order to measure a meridian distance. Passing six miles from Rocky Cape, we had 28 fathoms; and steering east, the depth gradually increased to 42 fathoms, with a soft muddy bottom, being then twenty miles North-West by West from Port Dalrymple, the mouth of the Tamar. The 19th was one of the few fine days it was our good fortune to meet with, and we enjoyed a splendid view of the Alpine features of Tasmania. Towering peaks connected sometimes by high tablelands, glittered in the sun as if capped with snow.* (*Footnote. Near Hobart, in February 1836, I saw snow on the side of a mountain.) PORT DALRYMPLE. Early in the afternoon, the lighthouse on Low Head appeared like a white speck resting on the blue horizon; and by evening we found ourselves at anchor just within the reefs fronting the west entrance point of Port Dalrymple. The first appearance of the Tamar river is not very inviting to the seaman. A rapid stream, thrown out of its course, hemmed in by numerous reefs, and passing over a bottom so uneven as to cause a change in the soundings from 12 to 26, and then 18 fathoms, with a ripple or line of broken water across the mouth renders it impossible in strong North-West winds for a stranger to detect the channels, and raises so much sea that the pilots cannot reach the vessels that arrive off the mouth.