I then suggested to these two to return; but oh no, the new chap was evidently bound to seek his fortune in London--that is to say, at the Charlotte Waters Station--and he merely remarked, "You, mine, boy, Burr-r-r-r-r, white fellow wurley;" he also said, "Mine, boy, walk, you, yarraman--mine, boy, sleep you wurley, you Burr-r-r-r-r yarraman." All this meant that they would walk and I might ride, and that they would camp with me at night.

Off I went and left them, as I had a good way to go.

I rode and they walked to the Charlotte.

I got the little boy regular meals at the station; but his arm was still bad, and I don't know if it ever got right.

I never saw him again.
At the Charlotte Waters I met Colonel Warburton and his son; they were going into the regions I had just returned from.