December 23rd, 1840.
This morning the rude Frenchman again refused to move, claiming the wind was against us, but as soon as we were out of the bay we made at least five miles an hour. By the way, we sailed so far from land that we didn't recognize Budlo again and only when we were long past did we realize where we were and hoped to get home that day. Dr. Harvey slept most of the day and did not come out onto the foredeck until we had rounded Bolingbroke Point, which he long thought was Tumby Island. As we sailed into the bay we heard a cannon fired in our honor and an hour or two before evening we went ashore. I was prepared for many and each one shouted with fearful, strong voices and outstretched arms: Ngai malpu makka, aimakka ( 066 ) "I am not the murderer, I am not"* - There were about 8 - 10 men and two very old, emaciated women who screamed continuously at the top of their lungs until Yunbalta* told them that they had nothing to fear, so-and-so (here he called one of the three natives we had met yesterday by name) had brought us here and told them to go away. Mr. Newenham rode up to them, which at first seemed to frighten them, but they were calmed down when Yunbalta went up to them and Newenham gave them biscuits. We then all rode up, amazed at the completely naked, dead figures. The natives claimed that the murderers Mangilti* and Mitalta* were far away, pointing to Turrudu*, and would not admit that they were among the fugitives, which I strongly suspected and therefore told them straight on. I then asked Yunbalta to lead us to the place where the murderers were, which he initially agreed to, but later he complained that his legs hurt.

( 067 ) From the place where the natives were encamped, we rode to the sea coast in the direction in which the rest had escaped, but we saw nothing but a child about two years old, lying behind a bush, crying, and which the mother seemed to have thrown there in the haste to escape. Yunbalta said it was his child. I had already seen the last man mentioned in Port Lincoln and was particularly fond of him because of his open nature. On this occasion I couldn't help but admire him, because not only was he the main spokesman, but he was also the first to reach for his weapon and dare to come towards us, truly a proof of intrepidity. I suggested spending the night at this place, but the majority of votes were in favor of retreating to the place where Muntalta had left us. Our natives and one of those we found here went with us. Although the immediate purpose of our journey was not thus achieved, I believe ( 068 ) that the natives are positively frightened when they see the whites seeking them out even in the most remote corners; This place, called Korlo*, was a narrow peninsula at the northwest end of Coffin Bay.

January 13th, 1841.
Mr. Winter asked me whether I thought, or whether the natives gave any indication, that there was a party on this side of the sandhills at Kalinyalla*, the place where they had been found on a previous expedition, and since our companions thought that this was the case, and a fire was also visible in that direction, we rode there. I appreciated this because it gave me an opportunity to expand my knowledge of the country and perhaps to make the acquaintance of