acquainted with West Australia, and with the narratives of those who have been similarly situated. The sight of some natives at a distance, of whom M. Péron and his friends wished to obtain a nearer view, had induced them to stray farther than they were at first aware of, and when they had succeeded with much difficulty in finding their way back to the sea, they perceived that their wanderings had placed a weary stretch of shore between themselves and their boat.
In order to make sure of not missing the way a second time the party determined to follow the windings of the beach, along which they toiled, laden with plants and shells, sometimes wading through the sea to avoid the reflected glare of the sun upon the white sand, and obliged at last to abandon a great part of the precious freight which they had procured at the expense of so much toil and danger, from sheer inability to carry the burden any farther.
By the time that the naturalists reached the boat, the sailors in charge of it had consumed the small supply of food and fresh water that they had brought with them, and the night was too much advanced to admit of an immediate return to the ship. On the morrow a thick fog increased the delay, none of the party, strange to say, being provided with a compass; and the poor curiosity-hunters had endured a fast of forty-four hours when they once again stepped on board 'Le Géographe,' in a state more dead than alive. M. Péron adds that Captain Baudin not only inexorably fined the officer of the boat in ten francs for each of the three guns fired the preceding evening as a signal for him to return, but also upbraided
