Finally, I decided there was nothing left for me but to acquire five more helpmates, who were of the greatest assistance to Yamba.
Of course, the constant topic of conversation was our ultimate escape overland; and to this end we made little expeditions to test the girls' powers of endurance.

I suggested, during one of our conversations, that we should either make for Port Essington, or else go overland in search of Port Darwin; but the girls were averse to this, owing to their terror of the natives.
Little did I dream, however, that at a place called Cossack, on the coast of the North-West Division of Western Australia, there was a settlement of pearl-fishers; so that, had I only known it, civilisation--more or less--was comparatively near.

Cossack, it appears, was the pearling rendezvous on the western side of the continent, much as Somerset was on the north-east, at the extremity of the Cape York Peninsula.
My tongue or pen can never tell what those young ladies were to me in my terrible exile.

They would recite passages from Sir Walter Scott's works--the "Tales of a Grandfather" I remember in particular; and so excellent was their memory that they were also able to give me many beautiful passages from Byron and Shakespeare.

I had always had a great admiration for Shakespeare, and the girls and myself would frequently act little scenes from "The Tempest," as being the most appropriate to our circumstances.