Upon digging up the things we had left buried, we found them perfectly dry.

On the 21st, I sent Mr.Scott down to the bay, to see if the cutter had come back, but she had not.

On his return, he brought up a few fish he had caught, which, added to ten pigeons, shot by himself and the native boys, at the sand-hills, gave a little variety to our fare; indeed, for several days, after taking up our old position at Point Fowler, we were well supplied both with fish and pigeons.
Time passed gradually away until the evening of the 25th, when a party of natives once more came up, and took up their abode near us--three were of those who had accompanied us all the way from Denial Bay, and some others had also been with us before.

On the 26th, I went down myself to Fowler's Bay to look out for the cutter, which we now daily expected.

Just as I arrived at the beach she came rounding into the bay, and Mr.Scott and myself got into our little boat, and pulled off to her, though with great difficulty, the wind blowing very fresh and dead against us, with the sea running high.