On their being landed at Sydney-Cove, they were immediately taken up to the governor’s house, where they were very kindly treated; but to prevent any attempt to escape being at all probable, they had each an iron-shackle put on one of their legs, to which a piece of rope was spliced, and a man was ordered for each, who was to be answerable for their security; wherever they went those keepers accompanied them, holding one end of the rope.  When these two strangers landed in Sydney-Cove, many people, prompted by curiosity, went to see them; among that number were the boy and girl, natives, whose names, I think, when speaking of them, I have never yet mentioned; the girl was called A-ba-roo, and the boy Nan-bar-ry, or Bal-der-ry: the moment they saw the men, they with raptures of joy called them both by their names; the children were also known to them, and it was not improbable but that their very comfortable appearance, after having lived so long amongst us, might, in some degree, calm that perturbation of mind, which we would naturally believe might attend them in such a state of captivity; for it should be recollected, that not one of those natives whom we have had amongst us, had ever returned to inform their friends, what kind of treatment they had met with from us; it was therefore not to be wondered at, if they supposed that such as fell into our hands were put to death.

The two old men who were picked up when very ill with the small-pox, at the time A-ba-roo and Nan-bar-ry were found, (and whom we believed to be the fathers of the children) died very soon.  Poor Ara-ba-noo, who was at liberty to go where he pleased some time before he died, was so well reconciled to us, that he never showed the smallest inclination to go from us; he unfortunately did not survive the small-pox, and the girl and boy were now so accustomed to our manner of living, that it was not at all probable they would relish that of their own country.

We soon discovered, upon the arrival of these two strangers, whom the children called by name, that one was a chief, or distinguished person, among those of the tribe of -Ca-di-gal_; his name was Co-al-by; he was a man of about 35 years of age; the other was about 25 years old, and was called by several different names, such as Ba-na-lang, Vogle-troo-ye, or Vo-la-ra-very; the first we thought his proper name, the others we understood from himself were names by which some of his particular connections were distinguished, and which he had, upon their death, taken up:  this man was a very good looking young fellow, of a pleasant lively disposition.

The presence of Co-al-by seemed to be a check upon the chearful temper of Ba-na-lang, which inclined us to think that he paid a kind of deference to him; he was always very silent in his company.