In the afternoon we entered the eastern mouth of the channel, and shortly afterwards found a snug little cove concealed by some surrounding islets.

Here we pitched our tents and lighted our fires.

Nothing could look more comfortable than this scene.

The glassy water of the little harbour, with the branches of the trees hanging over the rocky beach, the boats at anchor, the tents supported by the crossed oars, and the smoke curling up the wooded valley, formed a picture of quiet retirement.

The next day (20th) we smoothly glided onwards in our little fleet, and came to a more inhabited district.