me, they could return again to their own country. Scarcely had I spoken when they shouted their war-whoop, seized their spears, and proceeded at once to surround me. … My aborigines shrieked and fled. The natives had nearly encircled me—their spears raised, were poised in the air—the friendly aborigines were gone. At this crisis I made off, although I saw not the slightest chance of escape. I pursued my way rapidly through some copse, winding round the aclivity of some low hills, and took a north-east direction towards an angle of the river, on approaching which I saw one of my friendly natives that had escaped, who, with much trepidation, said that all the rest of the natives were killed. At the same instant she descried the hostile blacks approaching, and in much alarm begged me to hide whilst she swam the river and went to the encampment. To have attempted concealment at such a crisis would have been next to suicide, and looking up (for the river hath steep banks on either side) I saw one of the wild natives looking for my footsteps. At this moment he turned, and I lost sight of him. I saw no chance of escape except by crossing the river—the difficulty seemed insurmountable—I could not swim—the current was exceedingly rapid, and it required time to construct a machine" (i.e., a raft, or catamaran). "The natives were in strict search after me, and I expected every moment to be overtaken. … I made an attempt to cross on a small spar of wood, and was precipitated into the river, and nearly carried away by the current. After repeated attempts, I succeeded with the aid of the woman.[1] When about midway the aborigines again made their appearance, and followed my track down to the river. My clothes were left behind. I then returned to my encampment, where my son and some natives were staying. With these people I returned again to the river, and was agreeably disappointed to find that my aboriginal friends escaped unhurt, and that two of the hostile blacks had joined them. The wild natives had assembled on the opposite bank of the river. Here they continued to exhibit the most violent gestures, and were exceedingly boisterous in their declamations, threatening to cross the river and massacre us.
"From these fugitives I learnt that when the hostile blacks found that I had escaped, they searched the bushes, supposing I had hid myself." He also learned that it was their intention to have killed the whole of the party except the women. But for Robinson himself was reserved a special fate, namely, the mutilation and burning of his body, "and my ashes," he says, "made into Ray-dee or Num-re-mur-he-kee (i.e., amulets to be worn by the natives)."
- ↑ This woman was Truganini, who is still living.
