From his diary we learn that, with the assistance of Brahé, the depôt was reached on the 13th of September, and although this ill-fated place appeared to them to be still undisturbed, they succeeded in finding King on the fifteenth. He had been living with the blacks for more than two months, and now presented a melancholy appearance—wasted to a shadow, and hardly to be distinguished as a civilised being but by the remnants of clothes upon him. The poor fellow was sitting in a hut, while the natives were all gathered round, sitting on the ground and looking on with a most gratified and delighted expression.

After remaining two days to recruit King, Howitt and four of the men set off with the intention of burying the body of poor Wills. They found the corpse covered with sand and rushes just as King had left it, and when they had carefully collected the remains they interred them where they lay. Mr. Howitt showed their respect by conducting over the grave a short funeral ceremony. Afterwards the party heaped sand over the grave and laid bushes upon it, that the natives might know by their own tokens not to disturb the last repose of a fellow-being. To mark the spot the following inscription was cut on a tree close by:—

W. J. WILLS.
XLV. Yds.
W.N.W.
—A. H.—

Mr. Howitt deferred his visit to Burke's remains, hoping that King would be able to accompany him thither; but finding it would not be prudent to remove King for two or three days, he unwillingly took such directions as King could give, and started up the creek in search of the spot where Burke had died. After travelling eight miles they found his remains lying among tall plants under a clump of box-trees. The bones were entire, with the exception of the hands and feet, and the body had been removed from the spot where it first lay, and where the natives had placed branches over it, to about five paces distant. The revolver, loaded and capped, was lying close by, partly covered with leaves and earth, and corroded with rust. A grave was dug, and the remains of the brave explorer, wrapped in the Union-jack, were gently placed therein. On a box-tree at the head of the grave Mr. Howitt cut the following inscription:—

R. O'H. B.
21/9/61.
A. H.

The relief-party now went in search of the natives who had been so hospitable to the unfortunate explorers. On coming up to the blacks, Mr. Howitt displayed to their astonished gaze some of the things he intended to give them as a reward for their kindness. They examined the knife and tomahawk with great interest, but the looking-glass surprised them most. On seeing their faces reflected in it some seemed dazzled; others opened their eyes like saucers and made a rattling noise with their tongues, expressive of surprise. After a friendly palaver, Mr. Howitt gave them some sugar to taste. They made some absurd sleights-of-hand, as if in dread of being poisoned, and only pretended to eat it. They were then made to understand that the whole tribe were to come up to the camp next morning to receive the presents. On the following day, at ten o'clock, the friendly blacks appeared in a long procession, and at about a mile off commenced bawling at the top of their voices. When collected together, just below the camp, they numbered between thirty and forty, and the uproar they made was deafening. With the aid of King Mr. Howitt got them all seated round him, and then distributed the presents—tomahawks, knives, necklaces, looking-glasses, combs, etc. The blacks behaved as if they had never before experienced such happiness. The piccanninies were brought forward by their parents to have red ribbons tied round their dirty little heads. One old woman, who had been particularly kind to King, was loaded with presents. Fifty pounds of sugar was divided amongst them, and soon found its way to their mouths. Every one had a share in a Union-jack pocket-handkerchief, which they were very proud of. On fifty pounds of flour being given to them, they at once called it "white fellow nardoo." The blacks were made to understand that these things had been given to them for having fed King. Mr. Howitt then took leave of the delighted fellows, and as he had now accomplished the object of his journey, he bent his course homewards.

"They found the remains under a clump of box-trees."

On his arrival at Melbourne the sad story which he had to tell moved the minds and hearts of all, and deep grief prevailed throughout Australia. In Victoria the sorrow was intense, and it was agreed that the bodies of the two gallant explorers who had forfeited their lives in the nation's service should be brought to Melbourne and accorded a public funeral. Mr. Howitt was sent on the painful mission of bringing down their remains, and returned with them at the close of the year 1862. On the 21st of January 1863 the mournful ceremony took place. By common consent the greater part of the shops in the city were closed, although no official announcement had been made intimating that the day should be held sacred to the memory of Burke and Wills. The remains of the explorers had been lying in state at the Royal Society's Hall for a fortnight, and were now placed in handsome coffins and conveyed to the grave, which is near Sir Charles Hotham's monument. They were accompanied to their last resting-place by the leading gentlemen of the colony, and a procession which extended a distance of more than half-a-mile; while the street pavements were densely thronged with spectators. The Very Rev. the Dean of Melbourne conducted the funeral service, after which three volleys were fired. The melancholy honours awarded to the brave explorers having been paid amid general mourning, the crowd dispersed and left the heroes in their quiet graves.

Honours of a more substantial kind were not forgotten. To the nearest relatives of Burke and Wills a large sum of money was voted by the Government, and King received a grant that enabled him to live comfortably for the rest of his life.