is that the nut whence it sprang drifted ashore after his attempt to civilise the vicinity by the planting of seeds.  Dalrymple refers to the tree which, at the date of his visit (September 1873), was “about fourteen feet in height, but without fruit!” It grew to a great tree, and blacks found in the fruit a refreshing, nutritious food; but an evil thing came along one day in the shape of a thirsty Chinaman, and as he could not climb the tree he cut it down, and blacks, even to this day, hate the name of Chinaman.  Opposite the Point is the Island of Timana, known to some as “the Island on which the Chinaman was killed!” Whether “the Chinaman” was the person who cut down the coco-nut palm is not known, but somehow his fate and that of the palm have become associated.

The only traces of the expedition of half a century ago are marks upon trees at the mouth of the Hull River—­2 miles to the south, at the spot which it appears to have crossed.  The object of Kennedy’s expedition was to explore the country to the eastward of the dividing range running along the north-east coast of Australia.  Difficulties assailed them at the outset, as many weeks passed before they got clear of Rockingham Bay, its rivers, swamps, and dense scrubs fenced in by a mountain chain.  The cart was abandoned on July 18th and the horses were packed.  An axle and other ironwork of a cart was found many years ago in the neighbourhood of the upper Murray River.  As the axle was slotted for the old style of linchpins, no reasonable doubt exists as to its identity, and its discovery affords collateral proof of a statement published in Mr Dalrymple’s official report—­“It is noteworthy that several gins of the Rockingham Bay tribe now in service in private families, and with the native police are unanimous in their statements that an elderly white man is still resident amongst them, and they associate his capture with ‘white fellow leave him wheel-barrow along a scrub.’  Kennedy abandoned his horse-cart in the scrub of the Rockingham Bay Range before these gins were born!” Kennedy’s expedition was a disastrous failure.  The brave leader was killed by the blacks far up Cape York Peninsula while he was heroically pushing on to obtain succour for his famishing and weary followers.  Three only were subsequently rescued.  All this has, perhaps, little to do with Dunk Island:  but the scene is so close at hand that the temptation to include a slight reference to one of the most sensational and romantic episodes in the exploration of Australia could not be resisted.

Twenty-five years lapsed, and then another official landing took place.  In the meantime the island had been frequently visited, but there are no records, until the 29th September 1873, when the “Queensland North-East Coast Expedition,” under the leadership of Mr G. Elphinstone Dalrymple, F.R.G.S., landed.  Three members of the party have left pleasing testimonies of their first impressions, and I turn to the remarks