Two years afterwards I found my way up to Cooktown, North Queensland, which is situated immediately opposite the shores of New Guinea. I remained in the Cook district for two years, previous to embarking for the home of the Papuans. Before taking the reader over with me, let me introduce him to Cooktown, which is a fair type of a Northern Colonial Township. Cooktown is situated on the Endeavour River in lat. 15 deg. 30' south, and long. 145 deg. east. It derives its name from the immortal Captain Cook, who visited the site on which it stands in or about the year 1770, and beached his vessel, named the _Endeavour_, on the north shore, which is on the opposite side of the harbour to the town. The vessel had sprung a leak, so Captain Cook chose a suitable spot where there was little surf, in order to make the necessary repairs. How different was its appearance from that of the present time. Then, everything was in its primeval state. Crowds of savages lined the north shore, and interfered with Captain Cook's men in their work. The sailors had often to keep them back by force of arms. Even at the present day, blacks are living there, but their numbers are sadly reduced. Occasionally the monotony of their existence is varied by fights with the Normanby River blacks, who are more warlike and numerous, and who periodically make raids on them. Spears are then to be seen flying in all directions, and after several days' severe fighting, in which one or two are killed, and maybe one or two wounded, peace is once more restored, and the belligerent party returns to its river haunts. The blacks of North Queensland are, without exception, the lowest type of humanity on the face of the earth. They are almost on a level with the brute creation. They are naturally very lazy, and it is only the pangs of hunger that induce them to make any exertion to procure food. They are treacherous in the extreme; their principal occupation appears to consist in spearing the white man's cattle, and, when possible, the white man himself. They are as dangerous as snakes in the grass, and, like them, should be trodden under foot. They practise no cultivation of the soil, and are even too lazy to build houses to shelter them from the winds and heavy rains. They just throw two or three branches of trees together, and crawl underneath. Like the pestilential fever before the advance of settlement and civilization, they have to retire. They are fast approaching extinction, and in a century hence, one of the race will be an admired curiosity, if his existence is not already a memory. The Endeavour is a tortuous river, and navigable for vessels of three or four feet draught for over 20 miles, after which it becomes a narrow, shallow stream. The banks are lined with mangrove trees; beyond is a beautiful scrub, backed by mountains, with the Pacific Ocean glistening in the distance.