ious things on my table against the wind then I would have in erecting three or four tents. Also I have mail to get out and am anxious to get back to my regular routine. Our first camp site will be at a place called The Bend (of the Coen River), two or three miles north of Coen, and another will be set up some- where south of Coen. Our main objective however is to get over the McIl- wraith Range into the Rocky Scrub, a large, un-named area on the map in which Breakfast and Dinner Creeks, Rocky River and Scrubby Creek all have their sources. That will probably be either a pack-horse job or else we shall have to tackle it as we did Mount Tozer, a few at a time, and each party add- ing to and improving the trail and the camp. There is no road of any sort, nor any trail, leading into the Rocky Scrub. The camp south of Coen has not yet been decided up it could be either Ebagooola or Lalla Rookh or somewhere around either of them. In the matter of time, since tomorrow we start on our next-to-last month, it will probably work out at a week at The Bend, two weeks in some part of the Rocky Scrub and the fourth week at whichever camp south of Coen we may decide upon. The postman went through this camp yesterday, Jim McDowell; he travels once every two weeks in a circle from Coen taking in Mapoon and Wenlock, which shows on the map either as Plutoville or Lower Camp. A place now called Top Camp shows on the map as Choc-a-block. There is no air strip so the Wen- lock people only get mail once a fortnight. Sunday, 1 August 1948. My search last evening for the elusive crocodile was quite without result. I picked a large boulder on the river bank from which I had a clear view for fifty yards both up and down the river, and perched myself there for what seemed hours, flashing my head- light in both directions at intervals. There was not a ripple in the water and[illegible] eventually, feeling cold, I came back to camp. We packed and left the Archer about 10 "./. (sic) this morning and travel- ed right through to Coen, where we arrived somewhere about 5 P.M., without a stop. The trip was extremely tiring and the country much the same as the pre- vious half of the trip. Simply sparse forest, burned to a crisp by the sun and by travellers wherever there was any vegetation. Dust rose in clouds all the way, caking our faces and parching our throats. I think everybody was far too spiritless to worry whether or not we stopped and had food - the main object was to get the trip over. That was done without mishap, however. Our quarters, on a bend of the Coen River, itself a tributary of the Archer, consist of a very comfortable hut made of the xxx ubiquitous corrugated iron. I have a notion that without corrugated iron, the British Empire would never have come into existence. The house is divided into four rooms, there is a wired-in enclosure for a garden, unplanted, and the river is about twenty yards away. After a much-needed wash and meal, all hands, including the blacks who got an advance of pay of ten shillings each, went in to Coen. It was dark and a description of the whole place must wait until tomorrow, but we managed to find the Exchange Hotel, which has a big sign on top of it reading "Drink at Herb, Thompson's" and did so. There were not many people there but a bookie has come up for the races and was entertaining in the bar. Old Herb is our agent in this district and made us welcome, Joe of course knew every- body, and we found that our cargo had come in and been broached by somebody in the hotel. Back to camp and to bed, pending investigation tomorrow.