just too late to be saved!  Despair and death seemed staring them in the face:  their long overtaxed powers of endurance failed them utterly, and the gaunt spectre of famine that had been journeying with the brave men for weeks threatened now to enfold them in its terrible embrace.  Should they yield without another struggle?  Burke suddenly remembered Mount Despair, a cattle-station about one hundred and fifty leagues away, and with his indomitable resolution persuaded his companions to start for it, depositing first in the little iron casket the journal of his discoveries and the date of his departure.  As if to add the last finishing stroke of agony to the sad story, Burke and his companions had hardly turned their faces westward ere Brahe and Wright, who had met at the passage of the Loddon, and were now overwhelmed with remorse at their careless neglect of their leader’s orders, determined to revisit Cooper’s Creek, and see if any tidings were to be gained of the missing party.

[Illustration:  Gorge of the Tamar, Van Diemen’s land.]

Thoughtless as imprudent, they did not examine the casket, but supposing it had remained undisturbed where they left it, they turned their faces southward to the Darling, utterly unsuspicious of the recent visit of Burke and his unfortunate comrades.  Within two days after the trio began their dreary march to Mount Despair both their camels fell from exhaustion, but still the poor weary travelers pressed onward, continuing their search till the 24th of May.  Discovering no eminence above the horizon, they then gave up in despair and began to retrace their steps, leaving on a tree the date of departure.  In one more day’s march they would have reached the summit and been saved!

On the 20th of June it was evident that young Wills could not long survive, and on the 29th are dated his last words, a letter to his father full of tenderness and resignation:  “My death here within a few hours is certain, but my soul is calm.”  Still, almost in the last agony he made another effort to escape his fatal destiny, and set forth to reconnoitre the ground once more if perchance succor might be found.  Alone, with none to close his eyes, he fell asleep, and Howitt after long search found the skeleton body stretched upon the sands, the natives having compassionately covered it with boughs and leaves.  Burke’s last words are dated on the 28th, one day earlier than those of Wills:  “We have gained the shores of the ocean, but we have been aband—­” The last word is unfinished, as if his pen had refused to make the cruel record.  Burke’s wasted remains too were found, covered with leaves and boughs.  By his side lay his revolver, and the record of his great exploits was in the little casket at the foot of the tree.  King survived, and was found by Howitt, naked, famished and unable to speak or walk; but after long recruiting he was able to relate the