from the onshore breeze which has been keeping my light-trap empty; my estimate this morning was no fewer than 12,500 of the hight-flying things, after two evenings with nothing whatever. I arrived at that figure by counting a tea-spoon full of them, which came to 250; there were 50 teaspoonfulls. Three weeks from today we expect to launch our attack on Mt. Maneau and I was delighted to find that my foot survived the eight-mile jaunt of yesterday without any undue pain or discomfort; I feel quite sure that I shall be able to reach the summit of the mountain in as good shape as anybody else and I am happy to hear from Ken that there are none of the log bridges which so often span tremendously deep fissures. I had my fill of log bridges last night, even if they only spanned a lot of crocodiles; a single log, greasy from the feet of fifty or so porters is no dish for me. 14 April. About 0500 this morning I heard the rain again and it did not stop until 1400 this afternoon; that cut out all hope of any collecting for the day and the problem then comes how to fill in the day for the boys. In the afternoon we fell them in and had some shotgun practice; my boys both hit their targets and applications for them to warry and use shotguns have now gone in. We ourselves spent most of the day getting our gear ready for the mountain camps, that is, getting an idea of the poundage so that we can estimate the number of porters required. It will work out at about eighty, five under our original estimates. Tomorrow, Van, Ken and I, with our boys, are going to do the Dabora caves again; Bill Mason's trading boat, the Ruru, is going over to Goodenough Island and will drop us at Dabora. After we have worked the caves over again we shall walk home and I propose to get started before dark this time. We end up at a long log bridge at the entrance to Menspi village, and I should like to cross it with due dignity. We have been running well within our original budgets in every phase since we started, an encouraging ting. Tomorrow gives me my chance at the bottle-nosed snake; there will be Niko (Maleina Louena), Bili. (Tadigva Lolodi) and myself. I am sure that Ken will turn in too but he is not so hot with snakes, nor is Len, for that matter. I seem to have been elected quite unanimously and without a challenge to that job, and I am very sure that I shall not take it lightly at all. There is another creature there, a very special centipede, which I hope to secure also, but on that I shall get help from the boys, who grab them with their hands. That I would not do. The Betty Ann is said to be leaving Samaraifor here on Thursday, and we are hoping to get some of the five orders we now have on hand with Bunting; so far they have not sent us a statement yet either, and it is about time we received that also. 15 April. I think I have three things to jot down tonight, Len's nightmare of two nights ago, our plans for Coronation Day, and the day's work. The first gegan with a sustained moaning from Len which developed into loud cries, waking Ken and Van and causing me to turn on my light to see what had been happening. He had been dreaming that a large animal had gnawed through its way through his bed and net and had fastened on his posterior; in his dream he had reached down and grabbed its snout and was trying to call Van to take it and add it to his collection. On waking him he reached under his blanket and came up with a small beetle which had bitten him in the rear. On Coronation Day, being a group which comprises an English- man, an Australian, an American and a Canadian, we shall make due festivities on the top of Maneau. We shall take pictures of ourselves. Len will deliver a talk in English, Ken one in Motu, we shall have an extra ration of rum, and we hope to borrow a flag of some nation, Australian I assume, from Peter and or Tony. This will all take place at the summit of Mt. Maneau, as we shall then be considering our return from the summit to the next camp, and we have discussed sending copies of the pictures not only to her majesty herself, but to the Sydney Post, the New York Times and the Times of London. As for today's work, we visited the caves at Dabora and I am afraid the bottle-nosed snake is a figment of Father Crutwell's mind, if not of his bottle. The caves are rather impressive, but they follow in due order as I tell the story. About 0700 this morning Bill Mason arrived at the hut and said that he hoped to get the Ruru on her way at 0'00; she was to carry us as far as Dabora and drop us there, proceeding herself to Goodenough Island. We arrived at Bill's wharf and the ship left at 0830 reaching Dabora we assume, since