Volume 2 — CHAPTER 2.3. (continued 3)

November 16.

The natives this day brought us a few small pieces of fish, but they were old and hardly eatable. I would not allow them to come near the camp, but made signs to them to sit down at a distance, and when they had done so I went to them and distributed a few fish-hooks. Douglas died this morning, and we buried him at dusk when the natives were gone, and I read the funeral service over him. He was the first of our party we had lost, and his death, the sad precursor of so many more, cast an additional gloom over us.

November 18.

The natives came and brought some of their gins (women) with them. They would only allow one of us at a time to go near them. The women wore very neatly fringed girdles hanging loose about their loins, and shaded themselves with large fan-palm leaves. The girdles were made of the leaves of the Cordyline. Both men and women were very stout, strong, well-made people--some of the men standing six feet high. They brought us some fish, which they called mingii, but it was such as they would not even eat themselves; also a kind of paste, made of different kinds of leaves and roots, mixed with the inside of the roasted mangrove seeds, all pounded up together, then heated over a fire in a large shell. This paste they call dakiaa.* Although we did not much like the taste of the paste, and it was very full of sand, we ate some of it as a vegetable.

(*Footnote. This is identical with the biyu of Cape York. See Volume 2.)

November 19.

This morning about fifty or sixty natives, all strongly armed with spears, made their appearance, and by their gestures and manner it was quite evident they intended to attack us if opportunity offered. As we always kept our firearms in readiness, we stood out in a line, with our guns in our hands. I made signs to them to keep back, but they pretended not to understand us, holding up pieces of fish, crying out mingii, mingii (fish, fish) to induce us to come for them, but their designs upon us were too transparent for that. They kept us standing a good while, for I was anxious to refrain from firing on them if possible, and at length they left us without any actually hostile demonstration. Being Sunday, I read prayers to-day.

November 20.

Taylor died this morning, and we buried him in the evening, by the side of Douglas, and I read the funeral service over him.

November 21.

About sixty natives came to the camp this morning, well armed with spears, and pieces of fish, which they held up to us, to entice us to come to them. We took no notice, however, of their invitations, but preparing our firearms, we turned out. They were now closing round us in all directions, many of them with their spears in their throwing-sticks, ready for use--pointing them to their own necks and sides, and showing us by their postures how we should writhe with pain when they struck us. Then they would change their tactics and again endeavour to persuade us that they meant us no harm, but they would not lay down their spears. Some of them seemed inclined to go away, but others appeared determined to attack us. After keeping us standing about an hour, eleven spears were thrown at us. Three of my party then fired, slightly wounding one of them, when they all immediately ran away as fast as they could. Some of them, however, remained hovering in sight for some time after. Three of the spears that were thrown fell short of us, the rest passing very close, but fortunately no one was hurt; the three spears which passed us were barbed with bone, and were very heavy.

November 26.

Carpenter died this morning; the poor fellow did not suffer acutely on the approach of death, but the animal energies were destroyed, and they withered away one after another, without pain or struggle. At eleven o'clock, being Sunday, I read prayers, and in the evening we buried our late companion in the bed of the creek, and I read the funeral service over him. The natives came again this morning, leaving their spears at a distance, and brought us a few small fish; but remembering their former treachery, we took very little notice of them and showed them they could only expect kind treatment from us, so long as they themselves continued peaceable. During the last few days we shot a few pigeons and parrots, also a small blue heron.

November 27.

We killed another horse this morning, and had the meat all cut up and on the stage by nine o'clock, with all the appearance of a fine day to dry it. But about eleven o'clock a heavy thunderstorm came on, and it rained all day. I kept a fire burning near the stage all night.

November 28.

We were very uneasy at the continued wet weather, as it threatened to destroy the scanty remains of our provision, the flesh already beginning to smell very badly.

November 29.

It was raining heavily all day, and our meat became almost putrid.

November 30.

This day a fresh breeze blew, and there was no rain; I cut up all the meat that would hold together into thin slices, but a great deal of it was quite rotten. The blood-puddings, tripe, feet, and bones, lasted us till this day. I saved the hide of this horse for ourselves, the other I had fed our dogs on; Mr. Kennedy having requested me to keep them alive if possible, so that we had to spare a little from our scanty meals for them.

December 1.

The wind was blowing strong from the south-east this morning. On going up the hill in the afternoon I saw a schooner from the northward beating to the southward. I supposed her to be the Bramble, as it was about the time Mr. Kennedy had given me expectation of being relieved by water, and I afterwards found I was right in this supposition.

I naturally concluded she had come for us; and full of hope and joy I immediately hoisted a flag on a staff we had previously erected, on a part of the hill where it could be seen from any part of the bay. We placed a ball above the flag to put the crew on their guard against the natives. We then collected a quantity of wood, and at dusk lighted a fire, and kept it burning till about half-past seven or eight o'clock. I then fired off three rockets one after the other, at intervals of about twenty minutes. I also took a large pistol up the hill, and stood for some time firing it as quickly as I could load it, thinking they might perhaps see the flash of that, if they had not seen the rockets.

December 2.

Early this morning I was up, straining my eyes to catch a view of the bay, and at length saw the schooner standing in to the shore; and during the forenoon a boat was lowered. I now made quite certain they were coming for us, and thinking they might come up the creek in the boat for some distance, I hastened down the hill, and began to pack up a few things, determined to keep them waiting for our luggage no longer than I could help. I looked anxiously for them all the afternoon, wondering much at their delay in coming, until at last I went up the hill, just in time to see the schooner passing the bay. I cannot describe the feeling of despair and desolation which I in common with the rest of our party experienced as we gazed on the vessel as she fast faded from our view. On the very brink of starvation and death--death in the lone wilderness, peopled only with the savage denizens of the forest, who even then were thirsting for our blood--hope, sure and certain hope, had for one brief moment gladdened our hearts with the consoling assurance, that after our many trials, and protracted sufferings, we were again about to find comfort and safety. But the bright expectancy faded; and although we strove to persuade ourselves that the vessel was not the Bramble, our hearts sank within us in deep despondency.

December 4.

We yesterday finished our scanty remnant of flour; and our little store of meat, which we had been able to dry, could have but very little nourishment in it. Goddard and I went to the beach and got a bag of shellfish, but found it very difficult to get back to the camp through the mangroves, we were in so weak a state.

December 7.

This day I took Mitchell with me to the beach, and procured another bag of shellfish. During the last few days we shot a very small wallaby and three or four Torres Strait pigeons. These afforded us some relief, as our horse-flesh was so very bitter, that nothing but unendurable hunger could have induced us to eat it. A number of small brown beetles were generated from it, which ate it, and we were also much annoyed by flies. We all suffered more or less from bad eyes.

December 9.

The natives visited us this morning, and brought with them a few pieces of turtles' entrails and a few nondas. I gave them an old shirt and a knife, the latter of which was highly prized by them. They call turtle mallii, and the sun youmboll. Goddard had a fit of ague to-day, followed by fever.

December 10.

We all of us had fits of ague this morning, and none of us could get up till the afternoon, when, being Sunday, I read prayers.

December 11.

The natives came this morning, and brought us a little vegetable paste, and some pieces of turtles' entrails, with some sharks' liver. The latter was fresh, but one could not eat it, as it all melted into a yellowish oil, when boiled for a few minutes. I gave them a few fish-hooks, but found it very difficult to get them to leave the camp.

December 13.

This morning Mitchell was found dead by the side of the creek, with his feet in the water. He must have gone down at night to get water, but too much exhausted to perform his task, had sat down and died there. None of us being strong enough to dig a grave for him, we sewed the body in a blanket, with a few stones to sink it, and then put it into the brackish water.

December 15.

The thermometer fell this morning and was broken. It was raining heavily all day, and two bags of my seeds, and several other little things, were washed out of the tent by the water which ran down the hill. We were all very ill and weak.

December 16.

It was raining this morning, and we remained in the tent. Hearing one of our dogs barking, however, I went out and saw several natives with pieces of fish and turtle, which I took from them, when they left us. The natives also brought us some roasted nymphaea roots, which they call dillii. During the last few days we shot seven pigeons. Wall and Goddard used to go into the scrub and sit beneath a tree, to which they used to come for berries to feed their young, and watching their opportunity, shoot them.

December 21.

Our kangaroo dog being very weak, and unable to catch anything, we killed, and lived on him for two days. There was very little flesh on his bones, but our dried meat was so bad, that we very much enjoyed the remains of our old companion, and drank the water in which we boiled him.

December 24.

The natives took a tin case from Wall whilst he was talking to them, he not being able to resist them. My legs had swelled very much, and I was able to walk but a very short distance.

December 26.

The natives brought us a few pieces of fish and turtle, but both were almost rotten; they also gave us a blue-tongued lizard, which I opened and took out eleven young ones, which we roasted and ate. There was nothing but scales on the old one, except in its tail.

We always equally divided whatever we got from the natives, be it what it might; but they brought us very little that was eatable. I could easily perceive that their pretended good feeling towards us was assumed for the sake of fulfilling their own designs upon us. Although they tried to make us believe they were doing all in their power to benefit us, their object was to obtain an opportunity of coming upon us by surprise and destroying us. They had at many times seen the fatal effects of our firearms, and I believe that it was only the dread of these, that prevented them from falling upon us at once, and murdering us. They were a much finer race of men than the natives we had seen at Rockingham Bay, most of the men being from five feet ten to six feet high. The general characteristics of the race were different from those of the other aborigines I had ever seen, and I imagined that they might be an admixture of the Australian tribes and the Malays, or Murray Islanders. Some of them had large bushy whiskers, with no hair on their chins or upper lips, having the appearance of being regularly shaved. It would be almost impossible for any class of men to excel these fellows in the scheming and versatile cunning with which they strove to disguise their meditated treachery. In fine weather I always had our firearms standing out for them to see, and once or twice every night I fired off a pistol, to let them know we were on the lookout by night as well as by day.

December 28.

Niblett and Wall both died this morning; Niblett was quite dead when I got up, and Wall, though alive, was unable to speak; they were neither of them up the day previous. I had been talking with them both, endeavouring to encourage them to hope on to the last, but sickness, privation, and fatigue had overcome them, and they abandoned themselves to a calm and listless despair. We had got two pigeons the day before, which in the evening were boiled and divided between us, as well as the water they were boiled in. Niblett had eaten his pigeon, and drank the water, but Wall had only drank the water and eaten part of his half pigeon. About eleven o'clock, as many as fifty natives, armed with spears, and some of them painted with a yellowish earth, made their appearance in the vicinity of our camp. There were natives of several strange tribes amongst them. They were well aware that neither Niblett nor Wall was able to resist them, if they did not know they were dead. They also knew that we were very weak, although I always endeavoured as much as possible to keep that fact from them. This morning when I made signs to them to lay down their spears they paid no attention, with the exception of two, who had been in the habit of coming very frequently to the camp. These two came running up quite close to us, without their spears, and endeavoured to persuade one of us to go across a small dry creek, for a fish which another of the rascals was holding up to tempt us. They tried various methods to draw our attention from the rest, who were trailing their spears along the ground, with their feet, closing gradually round us, and running from tree to tree, to hide their spears behind them. Others lay on their backs on the long grass, and were working their way towards us, unnoticed, as they supposed. Goddard and myself stood with our guns in readiness and our pistols by our sides for about two hours, when I fell from excessive weakness. When I got up we thought it best to send them away at once, or stand our chance of being speared in the attempt, both of us being unable to stand any longer. We presented our guns at the two by our side, making signs to them to send the others away, or we would shoot them immediately. This they did, and they ran off in all directions without a spear being thrown or a shot fired. We had many times tried to catch fish in the creek during our stay at Weymouth Bay, with our fishing lines, but never could get as much as a bite at the bait.

As the evening came on, there came with it the painful task of removing the bodies of our unfortunate companions who had died in the morning. We had not strength to make the smallest hole in the ground as a grave; but after great exertion we succeeded in removing the bodies to a small patch of phyllanthus scrub, about four feet high, and eighty yards from the tent. We then laid them side by side, and covered them with a few small branches, and this was all the burial we were enabled to give them.

December 29.

Goddard went into the scrub, and shot three pigeons. We ate one of them at night, and the others we reserved till next day. Our bowels were greatly relaxed, which was partly stayed by eating a few nondas, which we got occasionally.

The six weeks having expired, which Mr. Kennedy had led me to expect would be the longest period we should have to wait, I now began to fear the rainy season had set in, and filled the creeks to the northward, so that his party had been unable to cross them, or that some untoward accident had happened, which prevented us being relieved.

I did not quite despair, but I knew that we could not live long. Our shot was almost consumed, not having more than eight or ten charges left, and although we had plenty of ball, we were too weak to attempt to form any plan to make shot. Our sole remaining companion, the sheepdog, I intended to kill in a day or two, but he would not last long, as he was nothing but skin and bone.

December 30.

Early this morning we ate the two pigeons left yesterday, and boiled each a quart of tea, from the leaves we had left; but we had not had any fresh tea to put into the pot for some time. Goddard then went into the bush, to try to get another pigeon or two, and if the natives made their appearance, I was to fire a pistol to recall him to the camp. After he had been gone, I saw natives coming toward the camp, and I immediately fired a pistol; but before Goddard could return they came into the camp, and handed me a piece of paper, very much dirtied and torn. I was sure, from the first, by their manner, that there was a vessel in the Bay. The paper was a note to me from Captain Dobson, of the schooner Ariel, but it was so dirtied and torn that I could only read part of it.

For a minute or two I was almost senseless with the joy which the hope of our deliverance inspired. I made the natives a few presents, and gave them a note to Captain Dobson, which I made them easily understand I wanted them to take to that gentleman. I was in hopes they would then have gone, but I soon found they had other intentions. A great many natives were coming from all quarters well armed with spears. I had given a shirt to the one who had brought the note, and put it on him; but I saw him throw down the note and pull off the shirt, and picking up his spear he joined the rest, who were preparing to attack us. We were expecting every moment to be attacked and murdered by these savages, our newly awakened hope already beginning to fail, when we saw Captain Dobson and Dr. Vallack, accompanied by Jackey and a man named Barrett (who had been wounded a few days before in the arm by a barbed spear) approaching towards us, across the creek. I and my companion, who was preserved with me, must ever be grateful for the prompt courage with which these persons, at the risk of their own lives, came to our assistance, through the scrub and mangroves, a distance of about three miles, surrounded as they were all the way by a large number of armed natives.

I was reduced almost to a skeleton. The elbow bone of my right arm was through the skin, as also the bone of my right hip. My legs also were swollen to an enormous size. Goddard walked to the boat, but I could not do so without the assistance of Captain Dobson and Dr. Vallack, and I had to be carried altogether a part of the distance. The others, Jackey and Barrett, kept a lookout for the blacks. We were unable to bring many things from the camp. The principal were, the firearms and one parcel of my seeds, which I had managed to keep dry, containing eighty-seven species. All my specimens were left behind, which I regretted very much: for though much injured, the collection contained specimens of very beautiful trees, shrubs, and orchideae. I could also only secure an abstract of my journal, except that portion of it from 13th November to 30th December, which I have in full. My original journal, with a botanical work which had been kindly lent me by a friend in Sydney for the expedition, was left behind. We got safely on board the Ariel; and after a very long passage, arrived in Sydney.

I am confident that no man could have done more for the safety of the party than was done by Mr. Kennedy, nor could any man have exerted himself more than he, in the most distressing circumstances of our perilous journey. He walked by far the greater part of the distance, giving his own horses for the use of the weak men, and the general service of the expedition. I never rode but two hours all through the journey, and that was on two successive days when we were in the vicinity of Cape Sidmouth, and I was suffering from bad feet.

The unfortunate death of our brave and generous leader, deeply and extensively as I know it to have been lamented, can have no more sincere mourner than myself.

The tale of his sufferings and those of his party has already been read and sympathised over by hundreds, and it would ill become me to add anything to the artless narrative of the faithful and true-hearted Jackey, who having tended his last moments, and closed his eyes, was the first, perhaps the most disinterested, bewailer of his unhappy fate.

STATEMENT OF JACKEY-JACKEY.

MADE BY HIM ON BOARD THE ARIEL, AND WRITTEN DOWN BY DR. VALLACK.

I started with Mr. Kennedy from Weymouth Bay for Cape York, on the 13th November, 1848, accompanied by Costigan, Dunn, and Luff, leaving eight men at the camp, at Weymouth Bay. We went on till we came to a river which empties itself into Weymouth Bay. A little further north we crossed the river; next morning a lot of natives camped on the other side of the river. Mr. Kennedy and the rest of us went on a very high hill and came to a flat on the other side and camped there; I went on a good way next day; a horse fell down a creek; the flour we took with us lasted three days; we had much trouble in getting the horse out of the creek; we went on, and came out, and camped on the ridges; we had no water. Next morning went on and Luff was taken ill with a very bad knee; we left him behind, and Dunn went back again and brought him on; Luff was riding a horse named Fiddler; then we went on and camped at a little creek; the flour being out this day we commenced eating horse-flesh, which Carron gave us when we left Weymouth Bay; as we went on we came on a small river, and saw no blacks there; as we proceeded we gathered nondas, and lived upon them and the meat; we stopped at a little creek and it came on raining, and Costigan shot himself; in putting his saddle under the tarpaulin, a string caught the trigger and the ball went in under the right arm and came out at his back under the shoulder; we went on this morning all of us, and stopped at another creek in the evening, and the next morning we killed a horse named Browney, smoked him that night and went on next day, taking as much of the horse as we could with us, and went on about a mile and then turned back again to where we killed the horse, because Costigan was very bad and in much pain; we went back again because there was no water; then Mr. Kennedy and I had dinner there, and went on in the afternoon leaving Dunn, Costigan, and Luff at the creek. This was at Pudding-pan Hill, near Shelburne Bay. Mr. Kennedy called it Pudding-pan Hill. We left some horse-meat with the three men at Pudding-pan Hill, and carried some with us on a packhorse. Mr. Kennedy wanted to make great haste when he left this place, to get the doctor to go down to the men that were ill. This was about three weeks after leaving Weymouth Bay. One horse was left with the three men at Pudding-pan Hill, and we (Kennedy and myself) took with us three horses. The three men were to remain there until Mr. Kennedy and myself had gone to and returned from Cape York for them. Mr. Kennedy told Luff and Dunn when he left them that if Costigan died to come along the beach till they saw the ship, and then to fire a gun; he told them he would not be long away, so it was not likely they would move from there for some time. They stopped to take care of the man that was shot, we (me and Mr. Kennedy) killed a horse for them before we came away; having left these three men, we camped that night where there was no water; next morning Mr. Kennedy and me went on with the four horses, two packhorses and two saddle-horses; one horse got bogged in a swamp. We tried to get him out all day, but could not, we left him there, and camped at another creek. The next day Mr. Kennedy and I went on again, and passed up a ridge very scrubby, and had to turn back again, and went along gulleys to get clear of the creek and scrub. Now it rained, and we camped; there were plenty of blacks here, but we did not see them, but plenty of fresh tracks, and camps, and smoke. Next morning we went on and camped at another creek, and on the following morning we continued going on, and camped in the evening close to a scrub; it rained in the night. Next day we went on in the scrub, but could not get through, I cut and cleared away, and it was near sundown before we got through the scrub--there we camped. It was heavy rain next morning, and we went on in the rain, then I changed horses and rode a black colt, to spell the other, and rode him all day, and in the afternoon we got on clear ground, and the horse fell down, me and all; the horse lay upon my right hip. Here Mr. Kennedy got off his horse and moved my horse from my thigh; we stopped there that night, and could not get the horse up; we looked to him in the morning and he was dead; we left him there; we had some horse-meat left to eat, and went on that day and crossed a little river and camped. The next day we went a good way; Mr. Kennedy told me to go up a tree to see a sandy hill somewhere; I went up a tree, and saw a sandy hill a little way down from Port Albany. That day we camped near a swamp; it was a very rainy day. The next morning we went on, and Mr. Kennedy told me we should get round to Port Albany in a day; we travelled on all day till twelve o'clock (noon) and then we saw Port Albany; then he said "There is Port Albany, Jackey--a ship is there--you see that island there," pointing to Albany Island; this was when we were at the mouth of Escape River; we stopped there a little while; all the meat was gone; I tried to get some fish but could not; we went on in the afternoon half a mile along the riverside, and met a good lot of blacks, and we camped; the blacks all cried out "powad, powad," and rubbed their bellies; and we thought they were friendly, and Mr. Kennedy gave them fish-hooks all round; every one asked me if I had anything to give away, and I said no; and Mr. Kennedy said, give them your knife, Jackey; this fellow on board was the man I gave the knife to; I am sure of it; I know him well; the black that was shot in the canoe was the most active in urging all the others on to spear Mr. Kennedy; I gave the man on board my knife; we went on this day, and I looked behind, and they were getting up their spears, and ran all round the camp which we had left; I told Mr. Kennedy that very likely those blackfellows would follow us, and he said, "No, Jackey, those blacks are very friendly;" I said to him "I know those blackfellows well, they too much speak;" we went on some two or three miles and camped; I and Mr. Kennedy watched them that night, taking it in turns every hour all night; by-and-by I saw the blackfellows; it was a moonlight night; and I walked up to Mr. Kennedy, and said to him there is plenty of blackfellows now; this was in the middle of the night; Mr. Kennedy told me to get my gun ready; the blacks did not know where we slept, as we did not make a fire; we both sat up all night; after this, daylight came, and I fetched the horses and saddled them; then we went on a good way up the river, and then we sat down a little while, and we saw three blackfellows coming along our track, and they saw us, and one fellow ran back as hard as he could run, and fetched up plenty more, like a flock of sheep almost; I told Mr. Kennedy to put the saddles on the two horses and go on, and the blacks came up, and they followed us all the day; all along it was raining, and I now told him to leave the horses and come on without them, that the horses made too much track. Mr. Kennedy was too weak, and would not leave the horses. We went on this day till towards evening, raining hard, and the blacks followed us all the day, some behind, some planted before; in fact, blacks all around following us. Now we went on into a little bit of a scrub, and I told Mr. Kennedy to look behind always; sometimes he would do so, and sometimes he would not look behind to look out for the blacks. Then a good many blackfellows came behind in the scrub, and threw plenty of spears, and hit Mr. Kennedy in the back first. Mr. Kennedy said to me, "Oh! Jackey, Jackey! shoot 'em, shoot 'em." Then I pulled out my gun and fired, and hit one fellow all over the face with buckshot; he tumbled down, and got up again and again and wheeled right round, and two blackfellows picked him up and carried him away. They went away then a little way, and came back again, throwing spears all around, more than they did before; very large spears. I pulled out the spear at once from Mr. Kennedy's back, and cut out the jag with Mr. Kennedy's knife; then Mr. Kennedy got his gun and snapped, but the gun would not go off. The blacks sneaked all along by the trees, and speared Mr. Kennedy again in the right leg, above the knee a little, and I got speared over the eye, and the blacks were now throwing their spears all ways, never giving over, and shortly again speared Mr. Kennedy in the right side; there were large jags to the spears, and I cut them out and put them into my pocket. At the same time we got speared, the horses got speared too, and jumped and bucked all about, and got into the swamp. I now told Mr. Kennedy to sit down, while I looked after the saddlebags, which I did; and when I came back again, I saw blacks along with Mr. Kennedy; I then asked him if he saw the blacks with him, he was stupid with the spear wounds, and said "No;" then I asked him where was his watch? I saw the blacks taking away watch and hat as I was returning to Mr. Kennedy; then I carried Mr. Kennedy into the scrub, he said, "Don't carry me a good way;" then Mr. Kennedy looked this way, very bad (Jackey rolling his eyes). I said to him, "Don't look far away," as I thought he would be frightened; I asked him often, "Are you well now?" and he said, "I don't care for the spear wound in my leg, Jackey, but for the other two spear wounds in my side and back," and said, "I am bad inside, Jackey." I told him blackfellow always die when he got spear in there (the back); he said, "I am out of wind, Jackey;" I asked him, "Mr. Kennedy; are you going to leave me?" and he said, "Yes, my boy, I am going to leave you;" he said, "I am very bad, Jackey; you take the books, Jackey, to the captain, but not the big ones, the Governor will give anything for them;" I then tied up the papers; he then said, "Jackey, give me paper and I will write;" I gave him paper and pencil, and he tried to write, and he then fell back and died, and I caught him as he fell back and held him, and I then turned round myself and cried: I was crying a good while until I got well; that was about an hour, and then I buried him; I digged up the ground with a tomahawk, and covered him over with logs, then grass, and my shirt and trousers; that night I left him near dark; I would go through the scrub, and the blacks threw spears at me, a good many, and I went back again into the scrub; then I went down the creek which runs into Escape River, and I walked along the water in the creek very easy, with my head only above water, to avoid the blacks, and get out of their way; in this way I went half a mile; then I got out of the creek, and got clear of them, and walked on all night nearly, and slept in the bush without a fire; I went on next morning, and felt very bad, and I spelled for two days; I lived upon nothing but salt water; next day I went on and camped one mile away from where I left, and ate one of the pandanus fruits; next morning I went on two miles, and sat down there, and I wanted to spell a little there, and go on; but when I tried to get up, I could not, but fell down again very tired and cramped, and I spelled here two days; then I went on again one mile, and got nothing to eat but one nonda; and I went on that day and camped, and on again next morning, about half a mile, and sat down where there was good water, and remained all day. On the following morning, I went a good way, went round a great swamp and mangroves, and got a good way by sundown; the next morning I went and saw a very large track of blackfellows; I went clear of the track and of swamp or sandy ground; then I came to a very large river, and a large lagoon; plenty of alligators in the lagoon, about ten miles from Port Albany. I now got into the ridges by sundown, and went up a tree and saw Albany Island; then next morning at four o'clock, I went on as hard as I could go all the way down, over fine clear ground, fine ironbark timber, and plenty of good grass; I went on round the point (this was towards Cape York, north of Albany Island) and went on and followed a creek down, and went on top of the hill and saw Cape York; I knew it was Cape York, because the sand did not go on further; I sat down then a good while; I said to myself, this is Port Albany, I believe inside somewhere; Mr. Kennedy also told me that the ship was inside, close up to the mainland; I went on a little way, and saw the ship and boat; I met close up here two black gins and a good many piccanninies; one said to me "powad, powad;" then I asked her for eggs, she gave me turtles' eggs, and I gave her a burning-glass; she pointed to the ship which I had seen before; I was very frightened of seeing the black men all along here; and when I was on the rock cooeying, and murry murry glad when the boat came for me.

DR. VALLACK'S STATEMENT.

A full account of proceedings taken by the Ariel, from the time of Jackey's arrival at Cape York, on the 23rd December, 1848, up to the time of her departure from Weymouth Bay, on the 31st December, 1848.

Saturday, 23rd December, 1848.

About eight o'clock A.M., Captain Dobson called down to me, saying that he thought Mr. Kennedy was arrived, as there was a black on shore with a shirt on and trousers. On going upon deck, the Captain had left in the dinghy for the mainland, where the black was standing, I observed with the glass and the naked eye, the black first standing, then walking very lame, then sitting down on a rock on the mainland. The dinghy made there, and took him on board. It turned out to be Jackey, of Mr. Kennedy's party, who looked very haggard and told a woeful tale. After being on board I wished to take down depositions, fearing anything might happen to him from over-excitement. Depositions were taken, before which he became faint, and a glass of wine revived him, which he told us afterwards, made him budgeree (that is, well again.) I consulted with the Captain as to what should be done, and it was immediately determined upon to leave Port Albany with all possible speed, to save the surviving parties at Pudding-pan Hill and Weymouth Bay, three men at the former place, and the rest at the latter. It being necessary to take the sheep with us, they were all but three shipped in the evening, and prompt orders given for the vessel to be got ready for a start in the morning the first thing. In the meantime I went on shore with the Captain to get the bullock in to kill, Barrett, as well, on horseback, and we found it was impossible to get him in--he was so wild: he was therefore shot at the far and south end of the island, with the intention of bringing as much as possible of the carcass away. It getting late in the evening, however, none was taken away, nor is there time now to do so, and to do also an act of duty and humanity to the yet living human beings.

Sunday, 24th December.

Before ten A.M., a dead calm; at turn of tide or rather before, weighed anchor, but the tide took us towards Cape York a mile; the tide now turned, and a gentle breeze took us through the strait. The breeze continued, and at sundown we anchored five miles south of Point Shadwell, Mount Adolphus bearing North-North-West, seven leagues; employed during the day conversing with Jackey, taking down in pencil what he had to say, changing the subject now and then by speaking of his comrades at Jerry's Plains. I did so as he told me what kept him awake all last night was thinking about Mr. Kennedy. Saw three native fires on our voyage here, one on this south end of Albany Island, one between it and here, and one on shore abreast of us.

December 25th, Monday.

At daylight in the morning a dead calm, and the hottest day we have had, the sun was so glaring that the altitude could not be taken. At about a quarter before ten A.M. a light breeze came on and we left our anchorage, the breeze increased a little, before eleven; saw what appeared to be an island at first; on nearing, found it to be a canoe, about fifteen feet long, with seven or eight natives in it, shearing about, sometimes in one direction, sometimes in another. After a little we heard them calling out, "paoud," "whappee," "chauca," some of them standing up. I named to the Captain that I thought they must be from Cape York, from their words, and that it would be at least desirable to glean information from them, if possible, concerning Mr. Kennedy. The Captain said, "We will not call out paoud," (which means peace) but occasionally the words chauca (tobacco) biskey (biscuit) were called out from the ship. They from this drew close to the vessel, very wary, however, in doing so. Jackey was placed in the fore-top, and word came that Jackey knew all these fellows, that they were the party who speared Mr. Kennedy. One black was allowed to come on board, and whilst he was partly in the ship, word came to me by Parker (a seaman) that Jackey wanted to speak to me. On going to Jackey, he said, "That fellow," pointing to the one named, "is the fellow that speared Mr. Kennedy; I gave him a knife, keep him, bale (don't) let him go. All those fellows threw spears at Mr. Kennedy." This native was immediately secured. He struggled hard, and it was as much as three men could do to secure him. The other blacks in the canoe now jumped overboard, and observing now that the native secured had a part of a bridle round his arm, and a piece of sinew, or tendon of a horse, and Jackey being so positive as to identity, it was determined to examine the canoe, and an order was given to fire over their heads, whilst they (the blacks) were endeavouring to recover their canoe. The ship's long-boat was sent after the canoe, but in the meantime the blacks had recovered it, and a hard chase took place, the blacks paddling away towards the shore. The boat overhauled them, when a shot was fired from the boat, and as the boat closed upon them I saw the blacks jump overboard again, and afterwards the ship's boat bring back the canoe. During this time several shots were fired over them, and near them, from the ship. The boat returned in about twenty minutes from the time of leaving, with the canoe. Barrett said to me when alongside that he was speared, and that he had shot the black who had speared him, and who was now in the canoe nearly dead. It appears that one black had stuck to his canoe, and on the ship's boat nearing it, had thrown a spear into Barret's arm, and was on the eve of throwing another at him, when Barrett shot him. I went into the canoe, and examined the black, and found the ball had gone through his body, entering on the one side and coming out on the other side. The ball must have gone through the stomach, from its direction. He was now dying--nearly dead. The canoe was chopped up, and, with the black, disappeared a short time afterwards. I dressed Barrett's wounds, three of them, of a triangular shape, in the lower and fleshy part of the forearm. From the canoe were brought the leg part of a pair of trousers, three spears, a piece of iron of a saddle, hooks and lines, etc.; and a piece of moleskin was taken off the native's leg, which Jackey says was part of his trousers, which he tied round Mr. Kennedy's head when he buried him, Jackey being sure that they had dug up Mr. Kennedy. I observed at the time that the native was nearly on board, the moment the blacks saw Jackey, they looked at each other as if everything was not right. Previously to their jumping overboard, when Jackey showed the native the spear wound over his eye, he would quickly turn away and not look him in the face. Whilst the native was being secured, after being removed to the fore part of the vessel, a mutton bone with meat was offered him which he grappled at and ate voraciously, saying, "paoud, paoud." The wind increased and was fair, and Jackey pointed out a hill ahead of us which he said was like Pudding-pan Hill, near which the three men were left. This Hill was Pudding-pan Hill, according to the chart. As we neared Pudding-pan Hill, Jackey said, that is not the place, that he had been mistaken, and, on continually looking at it, he became the more confirmed and positive, and said it was no use whatever to land there, but that we must go further on; we passed the hill; in the meantime, the Captain and I consulted as to what should be done, knowing this was the only Pudding-pan Hill on the chart; but Jackey, who had been placed on the fore-top, became more and more positive, saying at length, "Do you think I am stupid?--Mr. Kennedy sent me from the camp to look out the coast, so that I might know it again when I came back in the ship, and I will tell you when we come to it, the ship must go on that way further," pointing to the south. Proceeding on, towards evening, off Hannibal Bay, we saw numerous native fires, and in one spot I observed about forty natives. Before sundown a canoe was making off to us, but after sunset we gradually lost sight of it, and some time after this we anchored.

Tuesday, 26th December, 1848.

At twenty minutes to six A.M., got underweigh with a light breeze; in the centre of Hannibal Bay, Risk Point ahead. In about ten minutes we struck on a coral reef, and soon got off again; we anchored this day in Shelburne Bay, opposite where Jackey wished us to proceed to recover the three men; he was sure this was the place, seeing the mountain which Mr. Kennedy called Pudding-pan Hill, and other mountains there, which were wanting at the Pudding-pan Hill of the chart; he was perfectly confident as to this being the right place and it may be here stated that this hill is the very facsimile of the Pudding-pan Hill of the chart. In sailing in the bay we found the water getting very shallow, from three to four, and lastly, when we anchored, two and a half fathoms, and this unfortunately, was a long way off from the land, say three or four miles; after consultation with the Captain and Jackey, our main guide, we determined on going on shore at the place pointed out by Jackey before daylight on the following morning; during this afternoon several fires, about five, were in sight along the coast in the bay, and not many natives seen; I saw five; after a time it had been determined who should be the party to go to recover the three men. The Captain, Jackey, Barrett, Thomas (the sailor), and myself, formed the party. The evening was employed in getting our guns in good order for the morrow. The Captain thought he observed on shore natives with wearing apparel on.

Wednesday, 27th December, 1848.

At three o'clock A.M., the Captain called me, and such had been the preparation last night that in a quarter of an hour we were in the longboat, steering for the shore, and just as daylight was peeping we were near the shore in shallow water, and a fire sprung up nearly in front of us a little way in from the beach. The boat struck on the ground, and we waded through the water for about a hundred yards or more knee deep. Jackey took the lead, the Captain and I following, Barrett and Tom behind, and mounted the low scrubby cliff about two hundred yards from where we saw the fire. On we trudged through dense scrub inland for about an hour, When Jackey said we must go further up that way, pointing more in the south part of the bay; that is where I want to go, said he, and that we had better cross there in the boat and recommence the trip. On reaching the coast we hailed the boat, which was anchored off a little, and waded out to it. Having seen a great smoke last evening and apparently one this morning, some distance beyond where Jackey wished us to land, he was asked if we should go first to this native fire and camp, and see if they have anything there belonging to the three men, and Jackey said, yes. We proceeded there, a distance of about four miles to the southernmost part of the bay, and landed, but could discover only the remains of a bushfire and no camp; we now left this part and proceeded to exactly where Jackey pointed out on the beach, more in the central part of the bay, some three miles across, and landed, telling the men in the boat to anchor a little higher up to the north, where Jackey said we should come out at by-and-bye. We left word with the men in the boat that we might be away for three hours or more, and that we should fire a gun on our return, which was to be answered by them.

Jackey was now head and leading man in every sense of the word, and away we went in a westerly direction, for about, say, five or six miles; Jackey telling us to look out behind and all about for the blacks. After proceeding some four miles of the distance, we came to a creek where we stopped for a few minutes; Jackey was evidently tired, not recovered, and could not walk fast, and although we went off at first at a good pace, Jackey was getting lame, and had been obliged to sit down three times on the journey. About two miles beyond this creek Jackey got up into a tree, and returned saying he could see the mountain near which the camp was, but that it was a long way off, that we could not get there to-night, but that we must camp in the bush, and get there to-morrow. It here became necessary to pause. The ship was left with two hands only in her, anchored in shallow water, and the Captain said promptly that he could not proceed farther without great risk of losing the ship, either from its coming on to blow, or that natives may attack her in their canoes; (here I may say what has been omitted, namely, that in the early part of the morning we saw and examined a canoe close to where we first landed, and found part of a cloak in it, which Jackey immediately pronounced as belonging to the white men at the camp) and it was determined, well considering all circumstances, to return to the ship, which we did, coming out on the beach under mangroves, at the very spot we told Jackey to come out at on our leaving. We arrived at the ship at twelve minutes before four P.M. During our absence the men in the boat had seen on the beach from fifty to one hundred natives. We saw none. The day has been very hot, and we are in a fix, surrounded by reefs, and some little anxiety is existing as to how we shall get out again. We have determined to proceed to Weymouth Bay, and in so doing I have taken everything into consideration. We have eight men to attend to at Weymouth Bay. In all probability the three men here are dead, for when Jackey left them, Costigan was nearly dead, and Luff was very ill. The cloak taken from the canoe shows that the blacks have found their camp, and had we gone on there, which would have taken a day or two at least more, we should only have found, I verily believe, as Jackey says, "bones belonging to whitefellows." After getting on board, Jackey went to sleep, thoroughly done up. He fell asleep also in coming off in the boat.

Thursday, December 28.

This has been a day of anxiety. We left a little after daylight, not without feelings of disappointment and dissatisfaction at not having been successful in rescuing the men, who it was possible might be yet alive. We were surrounded by reefs, a light breeze, and fair depth of water--called out by the leadsman, 2, 2 1/2, 2, 3 fathoms, until after some time we got into deeper water, and passed out of the Bay in safety. Not a fire had been seen on the shore all night, nor was there a native to be seen this morning from the vessel. We passed numerous islands, until the Piper Islands came in sight. We calculated upon making them for our anchorage, but a squall came on, and the wind shifted, and we were compelled to anchor at half-past seven P.M., in fifteen fathoms water, near a reef. Some native fires were seen on the coast to-day. I find the native on board understands and speaks the same language as the Port Albany blacks, and repeats all their names to me. He eats and drinks heartily, and lends apparently a most willing hand towards securing himself with the leather straps.

Friday, 29th December.

Left our anchorage at daylight in the morning; passed between the Piper Islands and Bald Head. When off Fair Cape saw a smoke on the shore, and three natives, who immediately disappeared in the scrub and were seen no more. On rounding the Cape it became a dead calm, and it was intensely hot; we saw a smoke and a large fire ahead of us. Jackey recognised the land and said the smoke was at the mouth of a river which Mr. Kennedy and he had crossed after leaving the camp. The land where the camp and eight men were Jackey pointed out ahead of us, opposite to Weymouth Bay; a heavy squall and thunderstorm with rain came on very suddenly, and beyond the mouth of the river, with the camping-hill ahead of us, we came to an anchor, between two and three o'clock P.M.; could not see any flagstaff on the hill pointed out by Jackey, and which hill is very conspicuous and bald, nor could we see any symptom of living beings along the coast in the bay. It was too great a distance to land to-night, and the Captain said if it came on to blow the boat could not be got back again. Employed the other part of the day in looking through the glass and with the naked eye to see the flagstaff and flag, or any other sign (Jackey having informed us they would have a flag on the top of the hill) but none was to be seen, not a native, and I have reason to believe every one of the eight have been sacrificed; it looks suspicious not seeing a native, for Jackey says they used to bring fish to the camp, and there were plenty of them. The Captain is to take the ship in as near as possible to the hill, and it is determined to go on shore with the same party who assisted us at Shelburne Bay, and go up to the camp to-morrow well armed. All this evening a solemn, silent, inexpressible gloom; no rockets, no gun, no fire, to-morrow will tell a tale.

Saturday, 30th December, 1848.

At daylight this morning the ship was got underweigh, and sailed nearer in towards the hill which Jackey had pointed out as being the hill where "camp sit down," and anchored in about two fathoms of water about half a mile off the land. Five canoes were now seen creeping off towards us from under the mangroves, with from five to ten natives in each (there was yet no flag or any token of white people on the hill); the canoes gradually neared in a string, and one came cautiously alongside, making signs and saying "ferraman, ferraman," "white man, white man," and pointing towards Jackey's mountain. We were at first doubtful whether they were disposed to be friendly or not, and afterwards seeing some children with them and one or two females, we concluded they were disposed to be friendly, and that they knew the parties at the camp. A few lines were written to the party at the camp, stating a vessel was in the bay, and the bearer, one of the natives, would take them to it. This was given to one of the natives in the first canoe, and Jackey, whom the natives recognised, beckoned and motioned to them to take the note to the camp. In the meantime the Captain and I had determined as soon as the boat could be got ready, to proceed according to Jackey's instructions to the camp. The boat left with our party, and Jackey directed us some distance off in the wake of the canoes, there being nothing but a mangrove swamp on the shore near us. We landed beside of a creek knee-deep in water, among some mangroves. Here we got out of the boat, Jackey, the Captain, Barrett, and myself, Tom, the sailor, who had accompanied us before, saying he could not go, that he had a bad leg. We were a little disappointed here, but said nothing, and proceeded, Jackey leading, myself, the Captain, and Barrett following, through a mangrove swamp, for some considerable distance, all well armed. Getting out of the swamp we came upon a beautiful flat, and followed up a creek which Jackey said would lead up to the camp. After getting on (keeping a good lookout) for about two miles, Jackey doubled his pace, and all at once said with great emphasis, "I see camp." "Well done, Jackey," I think was exclaimed by all of us at the same moment. Jackey, still going on at a sharp pace, stopped for a moment and said, "I not sure, I believe it is hole through tree," and suddenly, with greater excitement than before, he exclaimed, "See two whitefellows sit down, and camp." We were now on one side of the creek: down the creek we went, and up on the other side in double-quick time, and a scene presented itself. On the side of the hill, not two hundred yards from us, were two men sitting down, looking towards us, the tent and fire immediately behind them; and on coming up to them, two of the most pitiable creatures imaginable were sitting down. One had sufficient strength to get up; the other appeared to be like a man in the very last stage of consumption. Alas! alas! they were the only two left of the eight, the remainder having died from starvation. Whilst here we were considering what was best to be done, when natives in great numbers were descried watching our movements. Jackey said, "Doctor," calling me aside, "now I tell you exactly what to do, you see those blackfellows over there" (and in pointing to them I saw a great number, some eight hundred yards away, peeping from behind trees) "you leave him tent, everything, altogether there, and get the two whitefellows down to the boat quick." Jackey was exceedingly energetic, and grave as well. Get away as quick as possible, was resounded by all, but what was to be done--two men almost dead to walk two or three miles. We looked over the tent, asked Carron for what important things there were, and each laid hold of what appeared to be of most value, the Captain taking two sextants, other parties firearms, etc., etc. "Come along," again and again Jackey called out, and the Captain too, whilst they were halfway down towards the creek, and Barrett and I loaded ourselves. I took a case of seeds, some papers of Carron's, a double gun and pistol, which, together with my own double gun and brace of pistols, thermometer, and my pockets full of powder and shot, was as much as I could manage. Seeing Carron could not get along, I told him to put his hands on my shoulders, and in this way he managed to walk down, as far as nearly through the mangrove swamp, towards the water's edge, when he could not in that way possibly get any further, and Barrett, with his disabled arm, carried him down to the edge of the water. Goddard, the other survivor, was just able to walk down, spoke, and looked exceedingly feeble. They were brought on board at noon, and attended to according to my instructions. Carron's legs were dreadfully swollen, about three times their natural size, from oedema. In the afternoon both reviving and thanking God for their deliverance. I was for some time afraid of Carron. At ten P.M.--they are both doing well, and, I trust, will be enabled to tell their own tale, which renders it unnecessary for me to write it down here. I told the Captain to proceed direct on to Sydney. Jackey, Carron, and Goddard, and the Captain, stating it would be running too great a risk to go to recover anything from the tent, moreover, with so small a party as the Captain, Jackey, and myself (Barrett really being unfit to go) and the sailors all refusing to go. I consider the Captain deserves considerable credit for his actions throughout in exerting himself to rescue the survivors.

Sunday, December 31.

At daylight got underweigh and took our departure from Weymouth Bay for Sydney. Carron and Goddard were some considerable time in getting better; the former being subject to daily fits of ague, etc., etc.

Thursday, January 11, 1849.

The black native had made his escape during the night, whilst it was raining and blowing hard; we were at this time anchored about one and a half or two miles from Turtle Reef, and a distance of eight miles from Cape Bedford, the nearest part of the mainland; made search on the reef, but saw no marks of him; a strong current was making towards Cape Bedford, and he might have taken that direction. Two large sharks were seen about the ship this morning; it is our impression the man can never have reached the land; the black was seen by Parker, on deck, at two A.M., whilst it was thundering, lightning, and raining, but was never seen afterwards.

EXTRACT

From the private log of T. BECKFORD SIMPSON, master of the brig Freak,* giving an account of her proceedings when employed in searching for the papers, etc., connected with the late Mr. Kennedy's exploring party.

(*Footnote. Under contract with the Colonial Government to call (on her way to Port Essington) at Shelburne Bay and Escape River, to ascertain, if possible, the fate of the three men left at the former place, and recover the papers of Mr. Kennedy secreted by Jackey-Jackey, who went in the Freak to point out the localities.)

Wednesday, May 2, 1849.

In the night fresh breezes from North-East with rain; at daylight weighed and made sail, the Harbinger in company; shaped a course to pass between Cape Direction and the low sandy island which lies off it; passed close to the latter; I observed the reef extending from the North-East end further than laid down on the chart; after passing it, and giving Cape Direction a good berth, shaped a course for Restoration Island. At 9 A.M. dense masses of rain-clouds to the east and north-east. The weather became thick and rainy, shortened sail to the topsails. At 10.30 A.M., the weather clearing a little, saw Restoration and Cape Weymouth; when close to the former we had heavy squalls with rain, which prevented our seeing the land; hove-to with the vessel's head to the North-East; shortly after the weather clearing a little so as to enable us to see the land, bore up and stood in for Weymouth Bay. The rain now descended in torrents, lowered topsails on the cap, feeling our way cautiously with the lead; finding the water shoaling, anchored in twelve fathoms; at 0.30 P.M., the weather clearing a little, saw Restoration, bearing South-South-East 1/2 East, and a small island distant about a mile west.

At 3.30 P.M. fine, and finding we were a long distance out, weighed and ran in under the jib, the Harbinger following our example; as we approached the bottom of the bay the water shoaled gradually, and when the haze lifted Jackey pointed out the hill at the foot of which was the camp where Mr. Kennedy had left eight of the party, and from whence Carron and Goddard had been rescued. We stood into five fathoms, and at 5 P.M. anchored about 1 1/2 miles from the shore; the Harbinger brought up close to us. Made up my mind to visit the camp in the morning, and endeavour to find if there were any papers which might have been left and not destroyed.

Thursday, May 3.

During the night moderate breeze from the south with light showers. At five A.M., Captain Sampson came alongside, he wishing to join our party, and visit the camp. Having well manned and armed the large whaleboat, pulled on shore, and landed at the entrance of a small river, on a little sand patch, the place having been pointed out by Jackey; it was the only clear landing-place I saw. A dense mangrove swamp extended some distance beyond high-water mark. We had no sooner landed than the rain fell in torrents, and continued for three hours, so much so that we could not load our guns. It was about high-water when we landed, and in the mangrove scrub through which we had to go, the water was nearly up to our waists. We had, therefore, no alternative but to remain patiently until the tide fell, and the rain ceased.

On searching the place where we landed, part of a blanket was found, marked B (arrow pointing up) O, a part of a tarpaulin, a piece of canvas, apparently a portion of a tent, and a small tin dish, with a name scratched on its back. These articles were evidently part of the pillage from the camp. A little way up the creek we found three canoes, very rudely made, with outriggers on both sides. We searched and found some small pieces of iron, which we took, being also pillage from the exploring party. At ten A.M., less rain, got some of our pieces blown off with difficulty, they being drenched with rain.

At eleven A.M., having some of our guns in a state to be trusted, we took to our boats and pulled a short distance up the creek in order to avoid in some measure the crossing of the mangrove swamp. We started, Jackey taking the lead, leaving a party to look after the boats. We walked for a short distance in the mangrove swamp, and came out on an open spot where we found a native camp, which from appearances had been but recently abandoned, the ashes of the fire being still warm: we made a strict search, but found nothing; we proceeded, passed through a small belt of mangroves, and came on an open plain; here Jackey and Tommy being the leading men, saw five natives, about fifty yards from us, planted behind trees, each had a bundle of spears, they were evidently watching us, Jackey levelled his gun at the nearest, and off they ran and disappeared immediately; Jackey seemed very desirous to shoot them, but I told him not to fire, as I wished to speak to them.

From the recent heavy rain the plain was very nearly knee-deep with water, nearly the whole distance we travelled the water was over our ankles, making walking very fatiguing. After crossing the plain we came to a band of trees and bushes, among them I was surprised to find some very fine banana plants; I observed also a fine specimen of the red cedar (the only tree I had hitherto seen was the Melaleuca) here we crossed a small creek, and came on fine forest land. After proceeding some distance, Jackey pointed out the place where the party first camped, and where Mr. Kennedy left the eight men; they subsequently removed to the opposite side of the creek; near this place on a tree was carved in large letters K. LXXX., which I suppose meant the eightieth station. On coming to the creek found it running too strong for us to ford it; went along by its side a short distance, and were fortunate to find a tree extending across it, upon which we got over; found the grass as high as our shoulders, crossed a small gully and ascended a slight acclivity, which brought us to the site of the camp; a bare spot of ground indicated the exact locality; this spot was strewed with portions of books, all of a religious or scientific character; found no manuscripts; parts of harness, leather belts, pieces of cedar boxes in leather covers were also found; one or two tins for carrying water, a camp stool, and part of a table, and piece of a tent pole, the bones, skulls, and part of the feathers of birds, etc.; specimens of natural history, all destroyed. I observed the bones of a horse, and the skull of a dog; a piece of torn calico with a portion of a chart adhering to it was picked up; I thought I could make out the words River Mitchell on it. I found among the pieces of books, a portion of Leichhardt's journey overland.

I was some time before I could find the remains of Wall and Niblet, who were the last men that died, and had not been buried, the survivors being too weak. I placed myself at the camp, and looked about for the likeliest place to which a corpse would be taken under the circumstances. I went down into a small gully, about sixty yards from the camp; under some small bushes, in about two feet of water, I found their bones, two skulls and some of the larger bones, the smaller ones having most probably been washed away by the flood; the bones were all carefully collected and taken on board. From the position in which these bones were found, agreeing with the description given me by Mr. Carron, I feel confident they are the remains of Wall and Niblet.

I was rather surprised to find some cabbage-palm trees growing in the vicinity of the camp; the tops are very nutritious, and would be very desirable for men in a starving state, had they been aware of it. I picked up part of a key belonging to a chronometer. After having a good look round, we returned to the boats, all tired, from our drenching and wading through so much mud and water, and we unfortunately had no provisions of any kind, and had eaten nothing all day. When we pulled to the entrance of the river it was low-water, and there was a bank dry outside of us for upwards of half a mile; we had no alternative but to wait until the tide flowed. At half past three P.M., got on board, hoisted the boat in, and prepared to start in the morning.

Friday, May 4.

At daylight, weighed, with a light breeze from the southward; steered to give Fair Cape a berth. I observed the entrance of a large river at the north end of Weymouth Bay. At half-past ten A.M., passed Piper's Islands, and steered for Young Island; could not make it out for some time, when we did see it, found it only a small reef above water, not worthy the name of an island; such a misnomer is likely to mislead; hauled up for the reef M. At noon, abreast of Haggerstone Island, steered to give Sir Everard Home's Isles a berth; saw natives on Cape Grenville; hauled in for Sunday Island; the wind light from the eastward; passed Thorpe Point, and hauled in for Round Point. At five P.M., anchored in six fathoms, mud. Bearings at anchor, North Sand Hill, D (conical hill) South-East 1/2 East; South Wind Hillock (a saddle hill) South 3/4 East; the remarkable sand patch, South-West 1/2 West; Jackey's Pudding-pan Hill, West 1/4 North. Got the whaleboat and crew ready to start at daylight for Shelburne Bay.

On consulting Jackey about going to the camp where the three men were left, he said it was no use going there; the distance was great, and the country scrubby, and that he was sure if any of the men were alive, they would be on the seacoast. Dunn, one of the men, told him, if Costigan died, he should come down to the beach directly. I therefore considered all that we could do would be to thoroughly examine the coast with the whaleboat, close in shore, and the brig as near as she prudently could approach.

At daylight despatched the whaleboat, in charge of the second officer, with four seamen, Jackey, and his two companions, with particular orders to keep close to the beach, and to land occasionally, to examine all the native camping places and canoes; to make strict search for anything that might tend to point out the fate of the unfortunate men. At 6.30 A.M. weighed, with a light breeze from the southward, and steered to pass between the Bird and Macarthur Islands; at noon abreast of the latter; P.M., after passing Hannibal Isles, hauled in for the shore, for the purpose of picking up the whaleboat. At 5.30 P.M., having shoaled our water rather suddenly to 3 1/2 fathoms, hard bottom, anchored about a mile off shore. Saw a canoe and a few natives on the beach. Bearings at anchor--Risk Point, South 1/2 East; the centre of the Hannibal Isles, South-East by East 1/2 East. At eight P.M. the boat returned. The second officer made the following Report:

I kept close along the beach all day, landed three times; first, near the creek where the Ariel's boat landed, saw no indication there of Europeans. I landed again some distance further on, where I saw a native camp and a canoe. In the latter I found a leather pistol holster, marked 34, which Jackey recognised as belonging to the party. Three natives were seen by Jackey, who, on perceiving the boat, ran into the bush. At the third place I landed I saw no indication of men. I was close to the beach all along, and occasionally fired a musket.

Jackey appears confident that the men left have been killed by the blacks. He said he had hopes of finding Dunn, he being a man that "knew blackfellow well, and used to go along blackfellow."

Sunday, May 6th, 1849.

At daylight sent the boat on shore, manned as before, with instructions to land at the place where I saw natives last night. At 6.30 A.M., weighed and set the topsail to a light breeze from the southward, steered North by East 1/2 East, hauling out a little from the land. At seven heard a rumbling noise, looked over the vessel's side and saw we were in shoal water, the vessel gradually losing her way, but still continued forging ahead a little; lowered the boat and sounded round, found more water ahead, thirteen and fourteen feet; inshore, about half a cable's length found five and six fathoms; to seaward, eleven and eleven and a half feet. Set the foresail: having a flowing tide the vessel went ahead and deepened our water; after going ahead about two or three ship's lengths touched again slightly, and immediately after got into five and six fathoms. The sea being smooth at the time, and the after part of the keel being the only part of the vessel that touched, she cannot have received any material damage. This shoal appeared to be of small extent, composed of sand and coral; it is not laid down in the chart, but is very dangerous, not being visible from the masthead. I went aloft after crossing it, and could perceive no indication of shoal water. The bearings I got when on the shoal were, the outer or larger Hannibal Island, South-East 1/2 East, the inner one (only a solitary tree visible) South by East 1/2 East.

At eleven A.M. passed Cairncross Island, running under easy sail and keeping as near the shore as prudent to keep the boat in sight. I have given instructions to the officers in charge to make a signal if anything was discovered. At half-past four hauled in for Fern Island; at five anchored under the lee in three fathoms, mud; bearings, the highest part of Fern Island South by East, the entrance to Escape River, North-West by West 1/2 West, hoisted the recall for the boat, on the return of which the officer reported as follows:

I ran along close to the shore all day. I landed a little to the southward of Orfordness. We met about thirty natives on the beach, who came up to us without hesitation, and appeared very friendly; they shook hands with all of us, and brought us water. Jackey at first thought he recognised the native who escaped from the Ariel among them; he got a little excited, and wanted to shoot him, when he approached nearer he was satisfied he was not the same individual. At another place where I landed I found part of the lower mast of a vessel about 400 tons, and pieces of wreck; saw no natives or indication of them on the beach.

The schooner remained at anchor, and from the fact of her doing so, I came to the conclusion it could be no other vessel than the Coquette;* seeing her so far from her station, I imagined there was something wrong, or that she had heard the unfortunate termination of the expedition, and was preparing to leave; I determined to communicate with her before proceeding up Escape River; at half-past eight A.M., saw four natives on the beach.

(*Footnote. Which had been sent from Sydney to await the arrival of Kennedy's Expedition at Port Albany, the period for which the Ariel had been chartered for that purpose having expired.)

At nine A.M., I left in the whaleboat for the schooner--the small boat employed watering. At half past eleven A.M. I boarded the Coquette; Captain Elliott had heard by the Sea Nymph, from Hobart Town, the fate of the expedition, and was about leaving for Sydney. She reported the ship Lord Auckland, from Hobart Town, with horses, having been aground on the X reef for several days; she subsequently got off, and had proceeded on her voyage, not having sustained any very material damage; she had lost four anchors, and the Coquette was going to try to pick them up. Having explained to Captain Elliott my intention of proceeding up the Escape River in the morning, he volunteered to accompany me, and to supply two hands, which enabled me to man my two boats, thus making a most formidable party.

At daylight made preparations for starting. I took the five-oared whaleboat, and the second officer, accompanied by Captain Elliott, went in the small boat, both well armed and manned. At half-past six A.M. we left and ran before a strong breeze from the South-East, and stood in for the entrance of Escape River. At half-past seven hauled in round the south head (Point Shadwell): in crossing the bar, least water three fathoms, the tide being about first quarter spring flood.

After entering the river perceived a bay, with small sandy beaches, one of which Jackey pointed out as the place where Mr. Kennedy first met the hostile natives; from this place we observed some of them launching a canoe for the purpose of speaking us, but as we could not afford to lose either the time or the tide I deferred communicating with them until our return. After steering west about five or six miles, the river began gradually to wind to the northward, and afterwards South-South-East; the river six or seven miles from the entrance was upwards of a mile in width, both banks were covered by a dense impenetrable mangrove swamp; after the river trended to the southward we had to lower our sail and pull; after pulling some four or five miles the river became gradually narrower. I observed several branches of it trending to the northward and westward; we remained on the southernmost branch, the principal one; as we proceeded on the left hand side of the river we came to a clear place free of mangroves, the only one we had seen; here we landed, and Jackey pointed it out as the place where Mr. Kennedy had come down on the morning of the day when he was killed; it was here Jackey advised him to abandon the horses and swim the river, about thirty yards wide. Jackey pointed out the tree where he made the horses fast whilst they went down to the river and searched in vain for oysters, they having had nothing to eat all that day.

We again proceeded, the river becoming gradually narrower as we advanced, and the water perfectly fresh. After going about two or three miles, the river became so narrow that our oars could not be used. We were compelled to haul the boats along, against a strong stream, by the overhanging branches of the trees, frequently coming across fallen trees, over which we had to launch our boats, running the risk of staving them; and again obliged to force them under others. A better spot could not have been selected by the natives for cutting us off, had they been so disposed--a narrow creek, and a dense scrub on either side. We still proceeded till the boats could get no further. We had traced the Escape River to its source--a small freshwater creek. As we advanced the belt of mangroves became thinner. We landed on a clear place, on the right of the creek. We went a short distance inland; saw an extensive plain, with numerous large ant-hills on it, which Jackey knew as the place he had crossed the day Mr. Kennedy was killed. Jackey went a short distance further to reconnoitre, and presently returned, having perfectly satisfied himself as to our locality.

After making a hasty meal we proceeded, leaving four hands in charge of the boats; we walked some distance across a swamp, still following the course of the creek. In the swamp I saw a great many of the Nepenthes distillatoria, or pitcher-plant; they were not exactly of the same description I have seen on the Pellew Islands, and other places; nearly all of them wanted the graceful turn in the stem, for which those elegant plants are so justly celebrated. We traced the creek for nearly a mile, looking out for a crossing-place, when Jackey pointed out on the other side the place where he had secreted the saddlebags. At length we came to a tree which had fallen and formed a kind of bridge, over which we passed with difficulty, and returned to the place where Jackey said the saddlebags were planted. Jackey then showed us the place where "horse tumble down creek" after being speared. Some horse-dung was found on the top of the bank close to this place, which confirmed Jackey's statement; he then took us a few yards into the scrub to look for the saddlebags, and told us to look about for a broken twig, growing over a thick bush; the place was found, but the saddlebags were gone; on searching under the bush among the leaves, the horizon glass of a sextant was found, a strong proof that Jackey had found the right place.

Jackey then took us through a dense scrub for some distance, when we came on open swampy ground about half a mile wide; on the opposite side there was more scrub, close to which there were three large ant-hills; Jackey took us up to the centre one, five yards from which poor Kennedy fell; against this ant-hill Jackey placed him when he went after the saddlebags. Jackey told us to look about for broken spears; some pieces were found; he then took us to a place about sixty yards from the ant-hill, where he put Mr. Kennedy, who then told him not to carry him far. About a quarter of a mile from this place, towards the creek, Jackey pointed out a clear space of ground, near an angle of a very small running stream of fresh water, close to three young pandanus trees, as the place where the unfortunate gentleman died. Jackey had taken him here to wash his wounds and stop the blood. It was here, when poor Kennedy found he was dying, that he gave Jackey instructions about the papers, when Jackey said, "Why do you talk so: you are not going to leave me?"

Jackey then led the way to a dense tea-tree scrub, distant about three or four hundred yards, where he had carried the body and buried it. When we came to the edge of the scrub, Jackey was at a loss where to enter, as he said when he was carrying the corpse he did not look behind--all the objects in front being nearly alike he did not get a good mark. Into the midst of this scrub we went, divided ourselves and searched in every direction, but could not find the place: Jackey had not made the spot too conspicuous, fearing the blacks might find it, he had only bent down two twigs across each other; the scrub was not very extensive but exceedingly thick.

Jackey led the way to a creek, and pointed out the place where he had crossed. Jackey said "I threw him down one fellow compass somewhere here." It was immediately found, it was one of Kater's prismatic compasses, the name Chislett, London, engraved on the back. Jackey then went to a place where he "plant him sextant," but the flood had been over the spot and washed it away. When returning I found the trough for an artificial horizon washed upon the banks of the creek, this had been left with the sextant. Jackey crossed the creek, and found a small wooden bottle of quicksilver in the same place where he had left it.

We returned to the scrub where Mr. Kennedy was buried, when we came to it I placed the party (eleven in number) five yards asunder, and traversed it this way in all directions, but without success. I then took Jackey to the plain where the poor gentleman died, and told him to go towards the scrub in the same manner he did when he was carrying the corpse, and not to look back, which he did, telling me the manner in which he carried it, and where he shifted it from one shoulder to the other. In this manner he entered the scrub, and I have no doubt he took us very near the exact place where the body was buried; we sounded the ground all round with our ramrods, but without success. After taking another good look we reluctantly gave up the search, as the night was rapidly approaching, and returned to the boats.

My opinion is, that the remains of the unfortunate gentleman have not been exhumed; if they had, we should have seen some indication of them; the natives would not have taken the trouble to fill the grave, or take away the bones. The soil where he was buried was of a light sandy nature, and the small mound Jackey rose over the grave had been washed down by the heavy rains. The only clue that gave rise to the supposition that the natives had found the body, was the fact that part of Mr. Kennedy's trousers was found in the canoe taken by the schooner Ariel. Jackey said there were other trousers in the saddlebag, exactly like those he had on at the time of his death. The saddlebags, there is not the slightest doubt, have been found by the natives. Poor Jackey was very quiet, but felt, and felt deeply, during the day. When pointing out the spot where Mr. Kennedy died, I saw tears in his eyes, and no one could be more indefatigable in searching for the remains. His feelings against the natives were bitter, and had any of them made their appearance at the time, I could hardly have prevented him from shooting them.

When we got back to the boats, we immediately proceeded down the creek, being anxious to get clear of the intricate navigation before dark. We succeeded in getting into the open river with difficulty, the numerous snags and branches of trees in the creek, together with the strong current, requiring great precaution to prevent our boats being stove.

A few yards above the place pointed out by Jackey in the morning, where Mr. Kennedy came down to the river for the purpose of crossing, we found the water very shallow, not ankle deep, right across, and had they waited until low-water they might have crossed without difficulty; as we pulled down the river we found numerous shoals, our boat constantly grounding; in fact Escape River is not a river, but an estuary, terminating in swamps.

At eleven we arrived at the entrance of the river, where I camped for the night, on a sandy beach not far from Point Shadwell, having determined to examine the native camp at daybreak. Set a watch, but made no fire, as I wanted to take the natives by surprise.

Wednesday, May 9th, 1849.

Blowing very hard all night from South-East; passed a miserable night--the mosquitoes devouring us. At break of day launched our boats and pulled towards the camp where we had seen natives the day before. Some of the party went along the beach. On arriving at the camp found it had very recently been abandoned; one of Jackey's companions saw one native, who ran into the bush and was seen no more.

I went with Jackey some distance into the bush, he showed me the place where a native threw a spear at him the day before Mr. Kennedy's death; Jackey fired, but missed him. I forgot to mention that the master of the Coquette had seen a native at Port Albany, who had, apparently, been wounded in the face with large shot, and as he answered the exact description given by Jackey, there is little doubt that he was the same individual mentioned in his statement as shot by him.

We searched the camp, found a small piece of red cloth, which Jackey recognised as part of the lining of Mr. Kennedy's cloak, also a piece of painted canvas; a canoe on the beach we destroyed. Finding nothing more could be done, we pulled out of the river, and got on board about ten A.M., after a very hard pull against both a head wind and tide.

Found the brig riding very uneasy in consequence of the heavy sea, and as Jackey said the other papers, called by him the small ones, and which I conceive to be the most important, as he was particularly instructed to take them to the Governor, were secreted at the head of another river, about eight miles further to the northward, and finding the vessel could not ride any longer here with safety, I determined, when the tide ceased, to weigh and seek some more secure anchorage.

At half-past twelve P.M. weighed, the Coquette in company, and stood to the northward. At half-past four hard squalls and heavy rain; rounded the Tree Island Reef and anchored in five fathoms, about one and a half miles from the north end of Albany Island.

I do not intend going into Port Albany, as the tides run very strong there; outside is quite as safe at this season. In the evening went on shore on Albany Island. Saw four or five natives, who knew Captain Elliott; they were very anxious to get biscuit and tobacco. They seem to be the same class of men as those at Port Essington, but the language is, I think, different.

Thursday, May 10.

All night blowing hard, and squally. At daylight same weather; no chance of the boat getting to the southward today. At ten went on shore, for the purpose of selecting a spot to inter the remains of Messrs. Wall and Niblet. Saw the horse left by the Ariel; he seemed in good condition, but rather shy; no chance, I fear, of catching him. Took some corn and meal in a bucket for him.

At three P.M. the weather rather more moderate. Both vessels got underweigh, and worked close inshore. At 4.30 anchored in three and three-quarters fathoms, mud: Tree Island North-East by East half East; Pile Island West half South; north extreme of Albany Island South by East half East; within a short half mile of the shore.

Got all ready for a start in the morning, should the weather be moderate. Should the weather continue bad, I proposed to Jackey to try the overland route. He said the distance was too great, and the country very bad to travel through; that it would take several days.