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THE LAST OF THE TASMANIANS.

No one could have told us so much, and yet we hear so little from him. A few stray statements have appeared, bearing his authority; but all must regret that a man of such observation and opportunity, and who lived in ease upon the pension of the Colonial Government so many years, made known scarcely anything of these curious and interesting tribes.

More conquests of peace followed the capture at Port Davey. At Birch's Rock, sixteen were taken; at West Point, six; at Mount Cameron, five; at the Surrey Hills, four; and at Sandy Cape, thirty-seven. From the report of July 12th, 1832, we learn that thirty-two were gained in the neighbourhood of Macquarie Harbour. At one place on the west coast, where sixteen were collected, their appearance was so wretched as to resemble ourang-outangs rather than human beings. One poor old man had had his eyes shot out by some Christian pursuer. The benevolent heart of Mr. Robinson was much moved at this spectacle of misery.

A most formidable difficulty was experienced by Mr. Robinson on the Arthur River. This was in the inhospitable region to the north-west, even to this day unsettled by our countrymen. A strong band of Aborigines had been brought under his notice by the friendly Blacks, and a conference had been held one evening in September 1832. In spite of the appeals of the Nestor, Manalagana, and the lucid exposition of the situation by the leader in his best Tasmanian speech, the forest men distrusted the offered conditions, and sullenly declined the advances of the Whites. A night of dreadful suspense followed. After the conference, the strangers camped at a little distance, and kept up noisy talk and rattling of spears through the hours of darkness. Our leader, conscious of the necessity of reassuring his own party, put on a calm and confident appearance, threw off his clothes, rolled himself in his blanket before the fire, and watchfully waited for the morn. The subsequent adventures are thus told by himself:—

"At the earliest dawn of day they made a large fire, around which the men assembled, and began preparing their weapons intended for my destruction. At this juncture, one of the wild Natives (a relative of one of my friendly Aborigines) commenced a vehement discussion, and argued against the injustice of killing me, and asked why they wanted to kill their friend and protector.