He said, 'Don't carry me a good way.' Then Mr.Kennedy looked this way, very bad (Jacky rolling his eyes).

I asked him often, 'are you well now ?' and he said -- 'I don't care for the spear wound in my leg, Jacky, but for the other two spear wounds in my side and back, and I am bad inside, Jacky!' I told him blackfellow always die when he got spear wound in there (the back).

He said: 'I am out of wind, Jacky.' I asked him: 'Are you going to leave me ?' And he said, 'Yes, my boy; I am going to leave you; I am very bad, Jacky, you take the books, Jacky, to the Captain, but not the big ones; the Governor will give you anything for them.' I then tied up the papers.
He then said: 'Jacky, give me paper and I will write.' I gave him pencil and paper, and he tried to write, and he then fell back and died, and I caught him in my arms and held him; and I then turned round myself and cried.

I was crying a good while until I got well; that was about an hour, and then I buried him.
"I digged up the ground with a tomahawk, and covered him over with logs and grass, and my shirt and trousers.

That night I left him near dark.