might be argued by the skeptical that for a supernatural little man, the quinkin was remarkably adept with a club. The heavy rains have a more serious side in that Ginger Dick could get bogged on his journey over to get us in a couple of days. However he is about the finest bush driver I have ever seen and his truck will be carrying no load. It will be heavy on the return journey, of course, but we shall all be there to help with the road-making if necessary, as we did on the way here. There should be quite a good batch of mail awaiting us; I shall be glad to get it; apart from personal letters, there should be interesting communications from Burns-Philp, Cairns, containing the bills for our food, in which I shall be very interested. Then also there may be some word about the ships southward, and we shall perhaps know whether we shall have to make our own way somehow over to T.I. or whether the ship will call. The Wandana cannot anyway as R.I.P. is too shallow and tricky a port for a ship of that size, 1,200 tons, After that, or perhaps after the Sanameia camp, we shall have to do something about signing on the boys, if we take moreton and Willie Somerset south with us. Moreton told me he would like to go, but half an hour later told George he would like to go to Hospital, so it is somewhat indefinite. There has been no sign of Martin Ropeyarn, for which I am sorry, as I became completely enamored of his name. Rain is about to start again; it is beginning to patter on the tent and, I have no doubt, soon will become a roar. Tuesday, 11 May 1948. Last night the wind blew again with vagaries not previously indulged in; alternately the rain arrived on my head and my feet until in disgust I ceased to care where it landed and slept through it as best I could. The sun has appeared fitfully during the day, which has been busy for me. In the insect realm my insect alcohol bottle has been filled with its usual chamber of horrors, centipedes, milipedes, scorpions, widgy grub and all the other things which live in dead logs and under dead leaves were taken this morning and in the dry bottle, the other side of the insect world, the lovely butterflies, dragon flies, bees and moths all constituted themselves. Reptiles also did themselves well, at least so far as size goes. Two snakes and one goanna were added though neither of the snakes had anything in its insides to add to the mammal collection. One of them was a mere thread, not much more than a foot long, but the other was eight feet if he was an inch and probably would be neared nine feet. The goanna, the second in the collection, measured 162 centimeters, nearly five feet. He cannot do much in the way of biting but is well equipped with claws. A third black boy arrived here this afternoon. Not Martin Ropeyarn, as I had hoped, but Roy Sampson, who should do, so far as names go. He looks an intelligent lad and wants to make the full trip with us, but an opinion cannot yet be given. Probably Ginger Dick, if he arrives tomorrow, can tell us something about him since almost all the local blacks have worked either for Dick or for his older boys, Stan [illegible] at R.I.P. or Tom at the saw-mill. Now the evening bug-trap, a conical cloth funnel, ending in a cyanide jar, is erected and will add its contribution, I hope. Already a very lovely, pure white moth has called and succumbed to the attraction of the bright lights. Funny, how all humans and insects are in so many things. The wind is rising but one can see a star here and there so perhaps there