dana leaves enough in the way of liquid supplies to keep the party going for a considerable time and it was in full swing when we arrived the next morning. There were perhaps seven men there, from all over this part of the Peninsula, Jack Gordon, mentioned elsewhere in this, Ted Densley, Ralph Dodson and others whose names I forget. George and Len went off with the baggage, first load, and I was invited to join the party, which I did, to become the immediate prey of Ted Densley. Ted is a little old man probably in his middle sixties or later, who has gone completely native, married an abbo woman, etc., although he has had very profitable gold holdings and still has. He admits he is second only to Jack Gordon in bushcraft, but assured me he never forgot he was a gentleman. Through some accident in the second war, he lost the thumb of his right hand and walked eight days to a doctor, an American army syurgeon from Massa- achusetts named Garlick. He said that Dr. Garlick asked him to return to A cri- ca with him but Ted could not leave his own country. His wife is the sister of an abbo man named Peter who refuses to live on a mission and cannot be held there. The story goes that some wealthy people were visiting Portland Roads with an eye to investing in some mining property. Ted was introduced to the lady and gentleman and later Peter, and the Australian abbo is very black and ugly to look at indeed, was also presented with the re- mark "Ted Densley's brother-in-law, you know." The prospective investors left with a very low idea of the people of Cape York. Friday, 4 February 1948. This is another of those entries made mainly in or- der to record the date. Traps came in this morning and most of the day has been spent in preparation for our move to Iron Range tomorrow. I think I have said that that will be about the biggest camp of the entire trip, and will serve as headquarters for us probably for two months. Mr. and Mrs. Connell, who own and operate a mine up there, came to Port- land Roads today. They are having a holiday after being in Iron Range for three years. They are two-thirds of the whole population and Mrs. Connell, a sprightly old get in her late fifties, I should imagine, has been the only woman in the territory for the bulk of the three years, until Mrs. Fisher came back with Doug. Now Mrs. Fisher will be the only woman in the several hundred square miles, for a short time. The Connells are taking the Wandana down to Cairns and coming back on her next trip. They have offered us the use of their house, another army hut, during their absence. There is no post office at Iron Range but something known as a "free bag" is made up there. As far as I can gather, the pilot of the plane hangs a mail bag up on a tree somewhere and people who have stamps to put on their letters do so and drop them in the bag, which is taken down to Cairns on the southbound run. One gets stamps from Doug Fisher, twenty miles away from Iron Range, but if none can be procured, a note to the postmaster at Cairns and the enclosure if five pence halfpenny or whatever it is, does the trick. Saturday 5 June 1943. This day of movement to Iron Range started, for me, with a trip down to the jetty. The Wandana, southbound, was due early in the morning and we had some stuff to ship down to Cairns. The ship arrived over the horizon just as I reached the jetty, to which I had walked with Mr. and Mrs. Connell. I saw Capt. Paulson (or Polson), consigned our boxes of specimens to his tender care, and was hailed by Jack Cupid, the Cape York lineman, and his wife. They were southbound for their first vacation in three years, like Mr. and Mrs. Connell. A number of the miners were in the shack at the end of the jetty, includ- ing Jack Gordon, though Ted Densley had gone home. A sack of bottles for Jack