On his arrival King found that his fellow-sufferer, whom he had grown to love so dearly, was lying dead in the hut, and that the natives had been there and taken away some of the clothes. He buried the corpse, and remained a few days. Then, as his stock of nardoo was getting low, and he was unable to gather any more, he tracked the natives that had been in the camp by their footprints in the sand some distance down the creek, shooting crows and hawks on the road. Soon he came up to the blacks, and afterwards kept with them until rescued by the relief-party. How he lived we learn from his own narrative:-- "The natives, hearing the report of the gun, came to meet me, and took me with them to their camp, giving me nardoo and fish. They took the birds I had shot, and cooked them for me, and afterwards showed me a gunyah, where I was to sleep with three of the single men. The following morning they commenced talking to me, and putting one finger on the ground and covering it with sand, at the same time pointing up the creek, saying, 'White fellow,' which I understood to mean that one white man was dead. From this, I knew that they were the tribe who had taken Mr. Wills's clothes. They then asked me where the third white man was, and I also made the sign of putting the fingers on the ground, and covering them with sand, at the same time pointing up the creek. They appeared to feel great compassion for me when they understood that I was alone on the creek, and gave me plenty to eat. After being four days with them, I saw that they were becoming tired of me, and they made signs that they were going up the creek, and that I had better go downwards; but I pretended not to understand them. The same day they shifted camp, and I followed them; and on reaching their camp, I shot some crows, which pleased them so much that they made me a shelter in the centre of their camp, and came and sat round until such time as the crows were cooked, when they assisted me to eat them. The same day one of the women, to whom I had given part of a crow, came and gave me a ball of nardoo, saying that she would give me more, only she had such a sore arm that she was unable to pound. She showed me a sore on her arm, and the thought struck me that I would boil some water in the billy, and wash her arm with a sponge. During the operation the whole tribe sat around, and were muttering one to another. The husband sat down by her side, and she was crying all the time. After I had washed it, I touched it with some caustic, when she began to yell and ran off, crying, 'Mokow! mokow!' (Fire! fire!). From this time she and her husband used to give me a small quantity of nardoo both night and morning, and whenever the tribe were about going on a fishing excursion, he used to give me notice to go with them. They also used to assist me in making a shelter whenever they shifted camp. I generally shot a crow, or a hawk, and gave it to them in return for these little services. Every four or