r duty, and urgent duty it was, lay with the
living. At once the schooner commenced to beat down the coast, and at
Shelburne Bay they landed but failed to find the camp. But they seized a
native canoe which bore sufficient evidence that the men had been
murdered. Clearly time must not be wasted in inflicting punishment;
according to Jacky's account, the men at Weymouth Bay were absolutely
starving, if they had not already succumbed to famine.

After their leader had left Weymouth, Carron had shifted the camp on to
the nearest hill, as it was more open and less exposed to the treacherous
attacks of the natives. A flagstaff was erected on the crest, in view of
the Bay. Then the party had only to sit down and await the coming of the
grim shadow following them through the jungle to strike them with the
death chill. They had two skeletons of horses and two gaunt dogs, and a
tiny remnant of flour. The men gave themselves up to moody despondency.
"Wearied out by long endurance of trials that would have shaken the
courage and tried the fortitude of the strongest," says Carron in his
diary, "a sort of sluggish indifference prevailed that prevented the
development of those active energies which were necessary to support us
in our present critical position."

One of the two horses was killed, and its scanty flesh, cut into strips,
was dried in the sun and smoke. This, the most repellant, sapless food to
be found in the world, had been their diet for some time. Douglas was the
first to die. The survivors were still strong enough to give him burial.
In a few days Taylor followed him and was interred by his side. The
blacks threatened them continually, though at times they would lay down
their arms and bring pieces of fish and turtle into the camp; but this
only the better to spy out their weakness. Carpenter was the next to
succumb, and on the 1st of December they were doomed to drink their
bitterest cup to the dregs. They had killed the remaining horse, but the
monsoonal rains descended, and in the steamy atmosphere the meat turned
putrid. Torn with anxiety, Carron was dejectedly mounting the look-out to
the flagstaff when he caught sight of a vessel beating into the Bay. The
sudden change from despair to relief was overwhelming. Kennedy must have
reached Port Albany, and had doubtless sent the Bramble to rescue them.
With eager, tremulous hands he hoisted a pre-arranged signal to warn them
against the blacks. Darkness fell and the