On the 2nd of February died Captain John Shea of the marines, after a lingering illness:  he was interred on the following day, with the customary military honours, amidst the regret of all who knew him.  In consequence of his decease, appointments for the promotion of the oldest officer of each subordinate rank were signed by the major commandant of the marine battalion, until the pleasure of the lords of the admiralty should be notified.*

[These appointments were confirmed by the admiralty.]

On the 17th of February the ‘Supply’ again sailed for Norfolk Island.  The governor went down the harbour in her, and carried Arabanoo with him, who was observed to go on board with distrust and reluctance; when he found she was under sail, every effort was tried without success to exhilarate him; at length, an opportunity being presented, he plunged overboard, and struck out for the nearest shore:  believing that those who were left behind would fire at him, he attempted to dive, at which he was known to be very expert:  but this was attended with a difficulty which he had not foreseen:  his clothes proved so buoyant, that he was unable to get more than his head under water:  a boat was immediately dispatched after him, and picked him up, though not without struggles and resistance on his side.  When brought on board, he appeared neither afraid or ashamed of what he had done, but sat apart, melancholy and dispirited, and continued so until he saw the governor and his other friends descend into a boat, and heard himself called upon to accompany them:  he sprang forward, and his cheerfulness and alacrity of temper immediately returned, and lasted during the remainder of the day.  The dread of being carried away, on an element of whose boundary he could form no conception, joined to the uncertainty of our intention towards him, unquestionably caused him to act as he did.

One of the principal effects which we had supposed the seizure and captivity of Arabanoo would produce, seemed yet at as great a distance as ever; the natives neither manifested signs of increased hostility on his account, or attempted to ask any explanation of our conduct through the medium of their countryman who was in our possession, and who they knew was treated with no farther harshness than in being detained among us.  Their forbearance of open and determined attack upon can be accounted for only by recollecting their knowledge of our numbers, and their dread of our fire-arms:  that they wanted not sufficient provocation to do so, will appear from what I am about to relate.

March, 1789.  Sixteen convicts left their work at the brick-kilns without leave, and marched to Botany Bay, with a design to attack the natives, and to plunder them of their fishing-tackle and spears:  they had armed themselves with their working tools and large clubs.  When they arrived near the bay, a body of Indians, who had probably seen them set out, and had penetrated their intention from experience,