approach any nearer, either armed or unarmed. Upon this I halted, and
endeavoured to enter into parley with them, with a view to persuading
them to return towards Fowler's Bay, and thus obviate the painful
necessity I should have been under of endeavouring, for my own security,
to take away the life of the eldest whenever I met with him, should they
still persist in going the same road as myself. The distance we were
apart was almost too great for parley, and I know not whether they heard
me or not; though they halted, and appeared to listen, they did not reply
to what I said, and plainly wished to avoid all closer contact. They now
began to call incessantly to Wylie, and in answer to my repeated efforts
to get them to speak to me, only would say, "Oh massa, we don't want you,
we want Wylie." Thus fully confirming me in the opinion I had formed,
that Wylie had agreed to go with them before the deed of violence was
committed. It was now apparent to me that their only present object in
following us had been to look for Wylie, and get him to join them. In
this they were unsuccessful; for he still remained quietly where I left
him holding the horses, and evidently afraid to go near them. There was
no use wasting further time, as I could not get them to listen to me. The
sun, too, was fast sinking in the horizon, we had been four days without
finding water, and the probability was we had very far still to go before
we could hope to procure any; every moment, therefore, was precious.

Having returned to Wylie, I made him lead one of the horses in advance,
and I followed behind, driving the rest after him, according to the
system of march I had adopted in the morning. As soon as the two natives
saw us moving on, and found Wylie did not join them, they set up a wild
and plaintive cry, still following along the brush parallel to our line
of route, and never ceasing in their importunities to Wylie, until the
denseness of the scrub, and the closing in of night, concealed us from
each other.