PROCEED TO THE WESTWARD. # 7 
humanity towards him, whose career had been cut 
short in so untimely a manner. This duty was ren- 
dered even more than ordinarily painful, by the 
nature of the country, where we happened to have 
been encamped. One vast unbroken surface of 
sheet rock extended for miles in every direction, 
and rendered it impossible to make a grave. We 
were some miles away from the sea-shore, and even 
had we been nearer, could not have got down the 
cliffs to bury the corpse in the sand. I could only, 
therefore, wrap a blanket around the body of the 
overseer, and leaving it enshrouded where he fell, 
escape from the melancholy scene, accompanied by 
Wylie, under the influence of feelings which neither 
time nor circumstances will ever obliterate. Though 
years have now passed away since the enactment of 
this tragedy, the dreadful horrors of that time and 
scene, are recalled before me with frightful vivid- 
ness, and make me shudder even now, when I think 
of them. A life time was crowded into those few 
short hours, and death alone may blot out the im- 
pressions they produced. 
For some time we travelled slowly and silently 
onwards. Wylie preceding, leading one of the 
horses, myself following behind and driving the 
others after him, through a country consisting 
still of the same alternations of scrub and open in- 
tervals as before. The day became very warm, and 
at eleven, after travelling ten miles to the west, I de- 
termined to halt until the cool of the evening. After 
