Afterwards a supply of nardoo was given him; at which he ate until he could eat no more. The blacks then asked him to stay the night with them; but as he was anxious to rejoin Burke and King, he went on. In his absence Burke, while frying some fish that the natives had given him, had set fire to the mia-mia (a shelter made by the blacks of bushes and trees). It burnt so quickly that every remnant of their clothing was destroyed, and nothing saved but a gun. In a few days they all started back towards the depot, in the hope that they could live with the blacks; but they found they had again disappeared. On again next morning to another of the native camps; but, finding it empty, the wanderers took possession of the best mia-mia, and Wills and King were sent out to collect nardoo. This was now absolutely their only food, with the exception of two crows which King shot; he alone seemed to be uninjured by the nardoo. Wills had at last suddenly collapsed, and could only lie in the mia-mia, and philosophically contemplate the situation. He strongly advised Burke and King to leave him, as the only chance for the salvation of any one of them now was to find the blacks. Very reluctantly at last Burke consented to go; and after placing a large supply of nardoo, wood, and water within easy reach, Burke said again: 'I will not leave you, Wills, under any other circumstance than that of your own wish.' And Wills, again repeating 'It is our only chance,' gave him a letter and his watch for his father. King had already buried the rest of the field-books near the mia-mia. * * * * * The first day after they left Wills Burke was very weak, and complained sadly of great pain in his back and legs. Next day he was a little better, and walked for about two miles, then lay down and said he could go no farther. [Illustration: Death of Burke] King managed to get him up, but as he went he dropped his swag and threw away everything he had to carry. When they halted he said he felt much worse, and could not last many hours longer, and he gave his pocket-book to King, saying:-- 'I hope you will remain with me till I am quite dead--it is a comfort to know someone is by; but when I am dying, it is my wish that you should place the pistol in my right hand, and that you leave me unburied as I lie.' Doubtless he thought of King's weak state, and wished to spare him the labour of digging a grave. The last of the misfortunes that had followed the enterprise from the outset, misfortunes in many cases caused by the impatient zeal of its leader, was drawing to its close. Tortured by disappointment and despair, racked by starvation and disease, he lay in the desert dying. Flinging aside the last poor chance of succour, renouncing all hope that he might yet live to reap the reward of his brilliant dash across the continent, he met death