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.