One man sickened and died, but on April 21 the three men were in sight of the camp where their comrades had been ordered to await their return. Burke thought that he could see them in the distance. How eager they were to get there! Here they would find all necessaries, and, above all, would be saved from starvation, which had already carried off one of the four.
But the spot was deserted. Not a living thing remained. There were only on a tree trunk the words "Dig. April 21." They digged and found a letter telling them that their comrades had left the place the same day, only a few hours before. Fortunately they found also a supply of flour, rice, sugar, and dried meat enough to last them until they reached a station inhabited by whites. But where were the clothes to replace their worn rags, which would scarcely hang together on their bodies? After four months of hard travelling and constant privations they were so overcome by weariness that every step was an effort, and now they had come to the camp only to find that their comrades had gone off the same day, neglecting their duty. Fate could not have treated them more cruelly.
Burke asked Wills and King whether they thought that they could overtake their comrades, but both answered no. Their last two camels were worn out, whereas the animals of the other men were, according to the letter, in excellent condition. A sensible man would have tried to reach them, or at least have followed their trail, and this Wills and King wanted to do. But Burke proposed a more westerly route, which he expected would be better and safer, and which led to the town of Adelaide in South Australia. It ran past Mount Hopeless, an unlucky name.
All went well at first, as long as they had flour and rice and could obtain from the natives fish and nardoo, ground seeds of the clover fern. They even ate rats, roasting them whole on the embers, skin and all, and found them well flavoured. One camel died, and the other soon refused to move. He supplied them with a store of meat. But their provisions came to an end, and, what was worse, water ceased on the way to Mount Hopeless.
Then they decided to return to the abandoned camp. On the way they kept alive on fish which they sometimes procured from natives, having nothing else but nardoo seeds plucked from the clover fern. Half dead with hunger and weariness they came back to the camp.
Midwinter, the end of June, was come, and the nights were cold. It was decided that Burke and King should go out and look for natives. Wills was unable to go with them, and was given a small supply of seeds and water.
After two days slow travelling Burke could go no farther. King shot a crow, which they ate, but Burke's strength was exhausted. One evening he said to his servant, "I hope that you will remain with me until I am really dead. Then leave me without burying me." Next morning he was dead.
Then King hurried back to Wills and found him dead also. The last words he had entered, four days before, in his journal were: "Can live four or five days longer at most, if it keeps warm. Pulse 48, very weak."
When the travellers were not heard of, the worst fears were entertained, and relief expeditions were despatched from Melbourne, Adelaide, and Brisbane, and in Sydney and other towns Burke's fate was discussed with anxiety. At length they found King, who had gained the confidence of the natives and had sojourned with them for two months, living as they did. He was unrecognisable and half out of his mind, but he recovered under the careful treatment he received. The two dead men were buried, Burke wrapped in the Union Jack. Later on his remains were carried to Melbourne, where a fine monument marks his grave. This is almost all that remains of an expedition which started out with such fair prospects, but which came to grief at the foot of Mount Hopeless.