Sunday 21st August 1811

Dear Diary,
Another new place, another restless night.
There were such rustlings and creakings in the dark that I began to be thankful that it was dark and I could not see what was the cause of the nocturnal noises. I doubt I would ever have slept if I had really known what lurked in the shadows. There were indeed a few moments when I almost cried out;
"I am an Englishman! Get me out of here!" but I kept my pecker up and snuggled in closer to the snoring Willow.
The countryside hereabouts is quite beautiful. Even now as I write I am sat amongst large granite boulders and looking out to the valleys and hills beyond. The wind is whispering through the trees and I can hear a Kookybunty...a Kookybull....one of those birds with a strange laughing-like call. 
I can see why Willow loves it here.