WHEN crossing the main land of New Guinea, from the Geel-vinks Bay in the north, to the south coast, I slept on the night of the 12th to the 13th of June, 1873, in the swamps of the Mac-Cluer Gulf (famous for the murder of some of the crew and the ship's-doctor of H.M.S. Panther and Endeavour, Capt. Mac-Cluer, in 1791, and by the attack on Signor Cerruti, the Italian traveller, several years ago). About 2 A.M. of the 13th I awoke, in consequence of a rattling noise like that of gun-shooting. I roused my six Malay companions, who slept around me in a small native prouw, seized my guns, and listened to what would follow. But nothing happened. It was unintelligible to me what had been the cause of this noise, the natives of these parts having no guns, so far as I knew, and even ii they had intended an attack, would not announce their arrival by firing their guns, instead of approaching in silence. On the other hand, when sleeping in a virgin forest like that which bordered these swamps, crashing noises from falling trees and from animals breaking down rotten branches often occur, but never so many together