The party, as we have seen, had landed in Rockingham Bay, and commenced their journey northwards, with a well-appointed caravan of carts, horses, and men, all in high spirits.  But more than a month elapsed before they could extricate themselves from the swamps and scrub which cover that part of the country; and at the beginning of November, five months later, they had not advanced more than 400 miles in a direct line:  nineteen of the horses were dead, and the stock of provisions nearly exhausted.  Mr Kennedy then determined on pushing forwards, with a light party, for Cape York, 150 miles distant, whence relief was to be sent to the eight individuals who were left behind, nearly worn out with fatigue and exhaustion.  This party consisted of the leader; Jackey Jackey, a faithful and intelligent native; and three of the strongest of the men.  One of the latter accidentally shot himself, and the other two became so weak, that they also were left at an encampment, with as large a supply of provisions as could be spared.  After incredible hardships, Mr Kennedy and his companion reached Escape River, twenty miles from Cape York, where they were attacked by a party of natives, while entangled in a scrub, and the gallant leader of the expedition fell a victim to their ferocity.  Three spears had entered his body, and Jackey Jackey, in simple but touching words, describes his last moments.  ‘Mr Kennedy,’ he asked, after having carried the wounded man out of sight of the natives, ‘are you going to leave me?’ ’Yes, my boy, I am going to leave you,’ was the reply of the dying man.  ’I am very bad, Jackey.  You take the books, Jackey, to the captain; but not the big ones:  the governor will give anything for them.’  ’I then tied up the papers.  He then said:  “Jackey, give me paper, and I will write.”  I gave him paper and pencil, and he tried to write; and he then fell back and died, and I caught him as he fell back, and held him, and I then turned round myself, and cried.  I was crying a good while, until I got well; that was about an hour, and then I buried him, I dug up the ground with a tomahawk, and covered him over with logs, then grass, and my shirt and trousers.  That night I left him, near dark.’

Jackey contrived to evade the pursuers, and a week afterwards got on board the schooner, which was lying in Port Albany, Cape York, waiting the arrival of Mr Kennedy’s expedition.  On learning the fatal result, the captain sailed, in the hope of saving the men who had been left behind.  Of the two who had belonged to the advanced party, nothing was discovered except some articles of clothing, and it was believed they had perished.  Of the eight first left near Weymouth Bay, two were still alive, but in the last stage of exhaustion, having endured privations and hardships almost without a parallel.

The brig Freak was subsequently despatched from Sydney, for the purpose of securing any papers or documents, or the mortal remains of any of the unfortunate expedition.  Jackey Jackey was on board, and by means of his remarkable sagacity, led the way to the respective camps.  The bones of two of the men were found; also some of Mr Kennedy’s instruments, portions of his clothing, and his manuscript journal, which had been hidden in the hollow of a tree; but after a minute search for the place where his body had been buried, it could not be discovered.