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.