bined pathos and ferocity that everybody wondered how he got that way at a comparatively dry party. To me the most interesting thing was the presence in Joe Fisher's house of a piano and I wondered at what I know must have been the heart-breaking toil required to get such an instrument to Wenlock. It is appreciated there greatly, and these evenings of music are quiterequent things. It was not until after midday that we finally hade our Wenlock friends goodbye, with the assurance on their parts that they would see us at the Coen Races, which I now capitalize, the Races being the next biggest thing to Christmas in this part of the Peninsula. Our road to the Archer River was the same as all other roads, just the two parallel cart wheel tracks, though it was not as rough as some trails we have followed. Hughie was very careful with his driving and it was dusk when we reached the Archer and too dark, by the time our beds were rigged, to see much of the river itself. That will have to wait until tomorrow. In view of the shortness of our stay here, probably not more than two or three nights, we shall not erect tents since we have at least, it seems, passed out of the wet districts. Friday, 30 July 1948. Undoubtedly in the wet season the Terrible Archer lives up to its formidable name. It is composed of several separate channels, running through rocky gorges in spots, the islands between the channels being topped with trees. Now, however, there is only one of the channels carrying any water at all, the others are sandy highways, giving easy access up and down stream, the rocky gorges seem to be huge boulders worn by time and water into graceful shapes. It is one of the prettiest rivers it has ever been my fortune to camp on. Our first crocodile came in last night and I, the collector of crocs, did not get it. Van did. It is not more than eighteen inches long and he shot it, probably thinking it was a rat as he got its eyes in his headlight, but none the less it is a Johnson River crocodile, the first in our collection, and, I think, the first the Museum has. Spurred by that I spent the whole morning roaming along the river bank looking for something a trifle larger and made myself so tired that I had to strip and have a bath to cool off. The water was crystal clear and not thigh deep but even with that bait nothing appeared. In the afternoon I went out with Hughie who said he knew a lagoon where there were sure to be some. We walked miles and then he seemed a bit doubtful as to just where the lagoon was; ultimately we came to a muddy pool, where there was absolutely nothing. We put up a large pig but did not trouble about him; he was too old for food and the mammal men don't seem to want to skin pigs. It is not yet supper time but I have an opportunity to get this written which I am taking. This evening I have to go out hunting so must close up and get ready. Saturday, 31 July 1948. After dark last night I went down to the river and at one point got a pair of crocodile eyes gleaming redly and wickedly in the glare of my headlight. They were far out in the river so I did not shoot, thinking that I might have a better opportunity when I go out tonight. The eyes, like little crimson pinheads, were so close together that the beast could have been no larger than the one that Van got the previous night. It has been decided that we move on to Coen tomorrow and I hope that we shall be able to consider ourselves settled there sufficiently to make a proper camp. I have spent fare more time sitting and just holding the var-