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.