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simple object in the publication of this book was to make known some facts of colonial history not collected by another. It is just possible that my own deep interest in the fate of the Lost Tribes may have led me to overvalue the importance of that knowledge. To me the story of the Tasmanians is so romantic, so affecting, so suggestive, that I, perhaps, have erred in deeming the public sensitive to such sympathies. Anyhow, a sense of duty has actuated the literary venture. Others had laboured for me; I did but return a little.

The critic's forbearance is respectfully solicited. I am conscious of irregularity of style, if not of graver faults. The apology is, that most of the book was written on the voyage from Australia; and those who know the constant disturbing influences of ship-board, and the absolute deprivation of quiet privacy, will be ready to accord me their indulgence.

The difficulties of collecting materials for such a work must be considered. It was not a mere hunt through Blue Books. The forest depths, the sultry plain—the homes of peace, the dens of penal woe—have each brought something to the store. The laugh of the Bushman, the sigh of gentle womanhood, the grief at lost affection, the curse from some remembered wrong, have been the varied accompaniments of tales thus told.