112. Tuesday, 20 July 1948. This day was spent packing specimens and the job of packing other things will continue through tomorrow and the next day, I think. The specimens, mine, that is, fill two fiersized cases and provided they make that journey in safety, should be welcomed by the depart- ment heads, I feel. As a result there is not very much to write about in this entry, nor will there be until we get on the move again, but the mail plane is due in tomorrow and we can be sure of getting what mail there may be for us late in the after- noon. I managed to get my hair cut by Bert Connell, one-third of the population of Iron Range, and consequently feel rather lighter in the head than I have for some time, but that is about the sum of this day's news. Wednesday, 21 July 1948. This has been a day of disappointment since the mail plane did not arrive. We put in a very busy time on our packing, confident that mail would come in and we could have a pleasant evening answering or reading it, but something happened and, simply no plane. No word about it either. We shall move out of here considerably lighter; I have prepared a ship- ment of seventeen boxes and cases for Cairns and twelve for Cooktown, which cuts our baggage considerably. On the other hand, there will be a shipment of supplies when we reach Coen but as we shall stay in that area a few weeks, that too will be depleted by the time our next move occurs. Supper this evening was enlivened by a discussion of ART. Don Vernon has studied painting and, for the sake of argument, is an artist. None of the rest of us know very much about it but all of us has his opinion. We started on Epstein, Bima, Night and Day, and so on, Don defending and everybody else attack- ing. Don did a remarkable job and before long we all found that we really meant the same thing but expressed ourselves differently. That meant George, Len and Joe; I did not take much part, being completely out of my depth on that subject. When they got into poetry, blank verse and the moderns, I could do a little bet- ter but they shifted back to painting again. Reverting to the plane again, Doug Fisher, his wife, Barrie and the two younger children all came up here to get the mail and say goodbye to us. The consensus is that another plane will come up tomorrow, finish the trip to T.I., turn around and come back the same day, in order to catch up with the schedule again, so the Fisher family did not say goodbye and will turn up again tomorrow morning. A message came through from Hughie Fisher of Wenlock, no relation to Doug, who is to convey us down to Coen. Hughie expects to be with us either late tomorrow night or early on Friday and we shall pull out of here on Friday definitely, unless Hughie breaks down somewhere. Roy Stephen, now promoted to a gun-boy, and bedecked with a pair of my old trousers, is very cock-a-hoop and brought in a porcupine for George this afternoon. Both parties are rather pleased and that about ends the gossip for this day. The Fishers told us that the U.S. is demanding an army of nine million and that the situation in and around Berlin is constantly getting worse. We are wondering whether we shall have time to finish the expedition before things begin to pop. Leo Ferris came over in the evening and said that most likely a plane will come up about 9 A.M. tomorrow with the mail but nobody has heard anything about what was wrong.