Late this afternoon I went again to where the Jubilee trail branches from ours and waited there for a long time to intercept Norman Watkin. He did not show up and it was dusk when I started the homeward trek and fully dark when I had at least a mile and a half to go. I walked delicately, as can be imagined, having no light and Don having taken a taipan on the trail only yesterday. Further about Don's taipan, it was only a young snake, not much over three feet in length, but after he had shot it with dust shot, broken its neck with his gun butt and then shot it with No. 6, it still turned, bit his gun and plastered it over with venom. In view of the failure of our efforts to meet Norman, I shall have to do something about it tomorrow. Marie leaves for Cooktown, Len is making another climb of Mt Finnegan and Don and I are moving back with Marie as far as a place known as the Forks. That is only a mile or so from Norman's home, at the Lion's Den Hotel, so I shall probably go right in that far and get him there, then work back to the Forks and join Don there. We have alternative means of getting out but we have to get word to George somehow in order to have Moreton and Roy sent in to Cooktown. Norman is to shift them to another camp site tomorrow morning, hence the desperate effort to get in touch with him. Tuesday, 21 September 1948. Yesterday's efforts being so uncertain, it was nice that today's went off with a swing and were fully accomplished. Breakfast was called for 6 A.M. because Len wanted to take her out to Cooktown and I was to go along to try again to find the elusive Norman Watkin; Don came along with me as the lesser evil between that and going up Finnegan with Len. Everything went according to Hoyle but on arrival at Helenvale we learned that Norman had not yet come in. Don and I had figured on walking back to the junction of the Amman River and Wallaby Creek and knew Norman could only come that way. We met him shortly after leaving Helenvale, having sent Jack on to Cooktown with Mrs. Brass. The cables to the Director of Native Affairs at T.I. and to the Protector at Coen had to be sent as soon as possible and Mrs. Brass was the one to do it. On meeting Norman the details for evacuation on Thursday were arranged and word was sent down to George and P Van. On his return from Cooktown Jack Roberts brought word from Mrs. B. that the telegrams were being sent as she wrote, that a reservation for Len was made on Monday's plane to Cairns, that George and Van were on their way to Cooktown, that approval from the Queensland Govt. for Don's journey to Brisbane by plane had arrived and, in fact, everything was lovely. In the meantime, after meeting Norman, Don and I went back to the junction of Amman and Wallaby, where Jack was to pick us up on his return journey, and immediately had a swim. They we boiled our tea and ate our sandwiches and did some hunting. I'm afraid out hearts were not in it as they should have been but I had a better day than any I have had at Shipton's Flat. When Jack picked us up he brought the news of the approval of Don's flight back and the latter has been walking around in a sort of trance ever since. For myself I have become so excessively conscious of the fact that this is the end and so determined that I shall not be bitten by anything on the last day that I jump like a kangaroo if the long grass even stirs beside me. Last night's walk definitely had me sweating. Len arrived back from the mountain about half an hour after our return from The Forks (the junction), and had had good collecting. We dined and I went out this evening spidering for the last time. Now I am back, my collecting days are over and tomorrow I get on with shipping, payrolls, packing and such things as that. On Thursday at 7 A.M. Norman should call for us and we return to Cooktown.