and tender at Cape York; and on the last visit, had induced the blacks to escort her to within a short distance of the anchorage, they believing that she only wished to shake hands with her countrymen, and would soon return, laden with knives, axes, and tobacco.  Although lame, she hurried on, fearing that her conductors might change their mind, and made towards some of the ship’s company, who were on shore shooting.  Except a fringe of leaves, she was quite naked, and her appearance was so dirty and miserable, that they took her for a gin, or native woman, and paid no attention to her, when she called out:  ’I am a white woman; why do you leave me?’ She was immediately taken on board the ship, and but just in time to escape from a small party of the tribe, who had followed to detain her.

Mr Macgillivray continues:  ’Upon being asked by Captain Stanley, whether she really preferred remaining with us to accompanying the natives back to their island, as she would be allowed her free choice in the matter, she was so much agitated as to find difficulty in expressing her thankfulness, making use of scraps of English alternately with the Kowrarega language, and then, suddenly awakening to the recollection that she was not understood, the poor creature blushed all over, and with downcast eyes beat her forehead with her hand, as if to assist in collecting her scattered thoughts.  At length, after a pause, she found words to say:  “Sir, I am a Christian, and would rather go back to my own friends.”  At the same tune, it was remarked by every one that she had not lost the feelings of womanly modesty; even after having lived so long among naked blacks, she seemed acutely to feel the singularity of her position, dressed only in a couple of shirts, in the midst of a crowd of her own countrymen.’

In accordance with her wish, Mrs Thomson was kept on board, and had a cabin given up to her own use; good living and medical attendance soon cured the soreness of her tanned and blistered skin, and the ophthalmia, which had deprived her of the sight of one eye.  The black Boroto grew desperate when he found that she would not return to him, and threatened to cut off her head to satisfy his vengeance—­a catastrophe which the rescued woman avoided by not going on shore; and she was eventually handed over, in good condition, to her parents on the return of the vessel to Sydney, at the beginning of 1850.

Shortly afterwards, to the great sorrow of all on board, Captain Stanley died, at the early age of thirty-eight.  He had brought his scientific labours to a successful close, and might have looked forward to a brief period of honourable repose; but the fatigue and anxiety of a laborious survey in a hot climate, and the news of the decease of his father, the late Bishop of Norwich, depressed him beyond the power of recovery.  This was not the only melancholy incident connected with the Rattlesnake’s voyage.  Mr Kennedy’s expedition had proved a most disastrous failure.