During the night a party of natives in five canoes came over from the Calvados Group, and first attracted our attention by making several fires on the middle and easternmost islands. Soon after daybreak they came alongside in their usual boisterous manner. A few words of their language which were procured proved to be of great interest by agreeing generally with those formerly obtained at Brierly Island, while the numerals were quite different and corresponded somewhat with those of my Brumer Island vocabulary. Two of the canoes—one of which carried sixteen people—were large and heavy and came off under sail, tacking outside of us and fetching under the ship’s stern. In these large canoes the paddles are of proportionate size and very clumsy—they are worked as oars with the aid of cane grommets—the sail is of the large oblong shape formerly described. One of the canoes was furnished with a small stage above the platform for the reception of a large bundle of coarse mats, six feet long and two and a half broad, made by interlacing the leaflets of the cocoa-palm; these mats are probably used in the construction of temporary huts when upon a cruise.
Although rather a better sample of the Papuan race than that which we had lately seen at Redscar Bay, there was no marked physical distinction between these inhabitants of the Louisiade and the New Guinea men. The canoes, however, are as different as the language; here, as throughout the Archipelago, the canoes have the semblance of a narrow coffin-like box, resting upon a hollowed-out log, the bow having the two characteristic ornaments of the tabura, or head-board, and the crest-like carved woodwork running out along the beak. Some of the natives were recognised as former visitors to the ship. Nearly all were painted, chiefly on the face, the favourite pattern being series of white bars and spots on a black ground. Except their ornaments and weapons, they had little to give us for the iron hoop so much in request with them; only a few coconuts, and scarcely any yams were obtained, and to the latter they attached a much higher value than formerly.
SAIL FOR SYDNEY.
At length the natives left us, three canoes making to the northward, and two returning to the Duchateau Isles. Morning observations for rating the chronometers having been obtained, we got underweigh soon afterwards, and, bidding farewell to the Louisiade Archipelago, commenced our voyage to Sydney.
Our daily average progress during the passage to Sydney (which occupied a period of twenty-eight days) was less than fifty miles. The winds for the first few days, or until beyond the influence of the land, were light and variable, shifting between South-West and North-East by the northward, and accompanied by occasional squalls and rain. It became a matter of difficulty to determine when we got into the south-east trade; it was not until we had reached latitude 20 degrees South that the wind—light on the preceding day, but on this strong, with squalls and rain—appeared steady between East-South-East and South-South-East and this carried us down to Sandy Cape.