woman and child near him had a narrow escape. An inquest was held on the soldier's body, and a verdict of murder was returned against Weeip and several other natives. Weeip was outlawed, and a price of £20 was put upon his head, for he it was who threw the fatal spear.
This daring act frightened the settlers. The air became thick with rumours of depredations and murders, most of which were not true. Danger was believed to exist to the bodies of every individual. The Governor was in a greater dilemma than before, for he was loth to take severe retaliatory measures. The troubles were given a greater importance than they deserved. Captain Ellis and his police corps penetrated the surrounding country in search of offenders. They seized several and inflicted whippings, but they could not come upon the particular object of their search, Weeip, Yagan's friend.
There was more stealing and more killing of stock on the Swan and Canning in June. Goats, pigs, and sheep were the sanguinary sacrifices for the revenge of the black men. An attack was made on a shepherd and his sheep on the Canning, but was not serious.
A system of patrolling the bush and woodland in the Swan River country was inaugurated in July, and had the effect of frightening and dispersing the natives, but they soon returned and resumed their peculiar warfare. Mr. Bland's cart while proceeding to York was attacked by natives near Green Mount, and one man was wounded. Another cart was previously surrounded, and one man was killed and another wounded near the same spot. A soldier took an opossum from a native, and gave it to his dog for food. The natives retaliated by spearing a colt valued at £40, the property of Mr. R. Lewis, a selector.
Weeip continued to defy the efforts of Captain Ellis and his police to take him prisoner. He was known to be in the district all the while, and, like Yagan, often visited the homesteads of settlers. He was such an intelligent native, and his crimes seemed so excusable, that some of the settlers did not wish to place him in the hands of the police. His opportunity for restitution came when it was rumored that a wreck lay on the shores of Shark's Bay. He was promised by Mr. Moore that if he conveyed a letter to the people believed to be cast helpless on the land, his son, who was in prison, would be released, and he (Weeip) would probably obtain a pardon. It was a bold enterprise. The intervening country was inhabited by enemies, and the southern blacks viewed the northern tribes with fear. Weeip decided to risk his life. A companion threw in his lot with him. A letter was rolled into a ball and placed in Weeip's belt, and the two natives set off. They had to walk hundreds of miles, but they accomplished the journey, and the intrepid hardy warriors returned to the Swan after many days. They told strange stories of their experiences. As a reward, the outlawry of Weeip was removed in September, and his son was released.
The scene of bloodshed was now centred on the Murray River. The system of patrolling was still carried on over the Swan country, and kept the natives in check. For the remainder of 1834 they committed no more murders there, although they occasionally purloined small articles, such as potatoes and flour, from gardens and huts. So strongly did the blacks press upon the whites on the Murray, that it was seriously proposed to abandon settlement in that district. The first attack, in 1834, was made upon two settlers named Budge and Morrell. The former was killed and the latter severely wounded. The barracks of the soldiers was in an advanced situation up the Murray, but so dangerous and fierce did the natives become that it was removed nearer to the seaboard. On the 15th July, Mr. Barron, a late sergeant in the 63rd Regiment, and now a settler, proceeded to the Murray River to effect the exchange of a valuable mare with Mr. Thomas Peel. Upon arrival at Mr. Peel's estate he learned that the mare was in the bush. Mr. Barron, accompanied by Nesbit, a servant of Lieutenant Armstrong's, and two natives, went out to look for the animal. They were soon joined by nineteen other natives, and all scanned the bush in company. At a certain spot Barron leant forward in his saddle to look at some tracks pointed out to him by the natives. While in this position he was speared in the back. As he galloped away a spear struck him in the side and another in the arm. Turning on Nesbit, the treacherous natives killed and horribly mutilated his body, and then made off. Barron recovered; Nesbit's remains were found on the following morning.
The Battle of Pinjarra eventuated from these incidents. While the Swan River natives were quiet Captain Ellis decided to take a body of his police to the Murray to apprehend these cruel murderers. He left Perth in October, and Sir James Stirling also went to the Murray on business connected with Mr. Thomas Peel. The destruction of European lives and property by the ferocious tribe of Kalyutes placed the authorities, so they state, under the painful but urgent necessity of meting out severe punishment. With such facility and so little opposition had the Murray blacks carried on their raids that they now deported themselves in an unbearable manner, and with impunity threatened the settlers with death.
Upon arrival in the Pinjarra district an expedition was organised. It was composed of Sir James Stirling, Lieutenant Roe, Captain Meares and his son, Captain Ellis, Mr. Thomas Peel, Mr. Norcott, Mr. Surveyor Smythe, Mr. Peel's servant, five mounted police, a soldier to lead a pack horse, two corporals and eight privates of His Majesty's 21st Regiment. On the night of the 27th October bivouacked at a place called by the aborigines "Jimjam," about ten miles E.N.E. from the Murray mouth. An abundance of luxurious green grass grew upon this reach of the river, and great trees provide shelter for the wanderers. Before six next morning, wrote Mr. Moore, the twenty-five men were in motion, and were on the alert for any indication of the presence of natives. They steered to the south-east for the proposed site of a town, which was to be named Pinjarra, where it was the intention of Mr. Peel to establish his headquarters, and where Sir James Stirling intended leaving part of his force, including the military, to establish a barracks. This was a well-loved rendezvous of the natives.
The ford near Pinjarra was crossed, and Sir James Stirling and his companions turned to the east. They proceeded for a quarter of a mile over the undulating surface,of magnificently grassed country when they suddenly came to a halt. Out of the woods to the left came the loud clamour of many native voices. This was the neighbourhood of the Kalyutes; the white force determined to speak to them, and perhaps punish them for the murder of Private Nesbit, and the spearing of Mr. Barron.
No natives were to be seen from that position, and Governor Stirling wished to satisfy himself that these really were the Kalyutes. With Messrs. Peel and Norcott, who were acquainted with the natives and understood their language, he rode forward to a hill two or three hundred yards distant. Below he descried the blacks on the opposite side of the river, apparently
