This tree was cut down, and the part of the
trunk containing the letters was sawn off and sent to Melbourne.
There is little doubt that the letters on the tree had been cut by
one of the survivors of that ill-fated schooner, who had landed in
the long boat near the Lakes, and had made their way along the
Ninety-Mile beach to Woodside. They were far from the usual track of
coasting vessels, and had little chance of attracting attention by
signals or fires. Even if they had plenty of food, it was impossible
for them to travel in safety through that unknown country to Port
Phillip, crossing the inlets, creeks, and swamps, in daily danger of
losing their lives by the spears of the wild natives. They must have
wandered along the ninety-mile as far as they could go, and then,
weary and worn out for want of food, reluctant to die the death of
the unhonoured dead, one of them had carved the letters on the tree,
as a last despairing message to their friends, before they were
killed by the savages, or succumbed to starvation.
"For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing, anxious being e'er resigned,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind?"
GIPPSLAND PIONEERS.
AT THE OLD PORT.
Most of them were Highlanders, and the news of the discovery of
Gippsland must often have been imparted in Gaelic, for many of the
children of the mist could speak no English when they landed.
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