There is something so affecting in the silent and deadly struggle between the harmless kangaroo and its pursuers that I have sometimes found it difficult to reconcile the sympathy such a death excites with our possession of canine teeth, or our necessities, however urgent they might be.

The huntsman’s pleasure is no more, indeed, when such an animal dies thus before him, persecuted alike by the civilised and the savage.  In this instance a young one, warm from the pouch of its mother, frisked about at a distance, as if unwilling to leave her, although it finally escaped.  The nights were cold, and I confess that thoughts of the young kangaroo did obtrude at dinner, and were mingled with my kangaroo-steak.

As we turned to our right in the afternoon in search of the Bogan, we encountered some casuarina scrub, to avoid which we had to wind a little, so that we only made the river at dusk, and at a part of the bed which was dry.  Water, as we afterwards found, was near enough upwards, but the two parties sent in the evening having by mistake both sought for it in the other direction, we had none till early in the morning.

FIVE NATIVES BROUGHT TO ME WITH A SILK HANDKERCHIEF IN THEIR POSSESSION.

May 2.

Five natives were brought to me by Whiting and Tom Jones, on suspicion; one of them having a silk pocket-handkerchief which they thought might have belonged to Mr. Cunningham.

The native wore it fastened over his shoulders, and seemed so careless about our scrutiny that I could not think he had obtained the handkerchief by any violence; and still less from Mr. Cunningham, as it was engrained with a smoky tinge, apparently derived from having been long in his possession.  No mark was upon it, and the only information we could obtain as to where they got it, was the answer “old fellow,” and pointing to the north-east.  As these men had been at some out-station of ours and could speak a little English, and as they had a young kangaroo dog called by them olony (Maloney) I did not think at the time that the handkerchief had belonged to Mr. Cunningham; and the men appointed to attend him declared they had never seen that handkerchief in his hands.

THEIR NAMES.

These five natives were overtaken suddenly at a waterhole two miles lower down the Bogan.  The name of him with the handkerchief was Werrajouit, those of the other four Yarree Buckenba and Tackijally Buckenba (brothers) Youimooba, and Werrayoy (youths).  The most intelligent was Tackijally, and even he understood but little, not enough to comprehend anything I said about the white man lost in the bush.

To secure their goodwill and best services however I immediately gave them three tomahawks; and when Yarree Buckenba took a new handkerchief from my pocket I presented him with it.  They accompanied us when we moved forward to encamp nearer water.

THE PARTY HALT AT CUDDULDURY.