with great difficulty he succeeded in rejoining Eyre. At this time the
party were 650 miles from their destination, with only three weeks'
provisions, estimated on the most reduced scale. Baxter, the overseer,
wished to attempt to return; but, Eyre being resolute, the overseer
loyally determined to stay with him to the last. One horse was killed for
food; dysentery broke out; the natives deserted them, but came back
starving and penitent, and were permitted to remain with the white men.
Then came the tragedy which makes this narrative so conspicuously
terrible, even in the annals of Australian exploration. Two of the black
men shot the overseer, Baxter, as he slept, and then ran away, perishing,
it is supposed, miserably in the desert. Eyre, when some distance from
the place where poor Baxter rested, looking after the horses, heard the
report of the gun and hurried back, arriving just in time to receive the
pathetic look of farewell from the murdered man, who had served him so
long and so faithfully.

Wylie, the black boy, who had been with Eyre in Adelaide, now alone
remained, and it is scarcely possible to imagine a more appalling
situation than that in which Eyre then found himself. The murderers had
carried away nearly the whole of the scanty stock of provisions, leaving
only forty pounds of flour, a little tea and sugar, and four gallons of
water. They had also taken the two available guns, and nearly all the
ammunition. The body of Baxter was wrapped in a blanket--they could not
even dig a grave in the barren rock. Left with his sole companion, Eyre
sadly resumed the march, their steps tracked by the two blacks, who
probably meditated further murders; but, with only cowardly instincts,
they dared not approach the intrepid man, who at length outstripped them,
and they were never heard of more. Still no water was found for 150
miles; then a slight supply, and the two men struggled on, daily becoming
weaker, living on horse-flesh, an occasional kangaroo, and the few fish