Upon making signs for fresh water, which they instantly understood, they called out to us "badoo, badoo," and pointed to a part of the bay where Captain Flinders has marked a rivulet.

Badoo, in the Port Jackson language, means water; it was thought probable that they must have obtained it from some late visitors; and in this opinion we were confirmed, for the word kangaroo was also familiar to them.* (*Footnote.

The San Antonio, merchant brig, the vessel that joined our company during our passage up the east coast, visited this port in December 1820 and communicated with the natives; it is therefore probable that the above words were obtained from that vessel's crew.) Upon our return towards the entrance the natives walked upon the beach abreast the boat, and kept with her until we pulled out of the entrance, when they resumed their former station upon the rocks and we returned on board.
Upon reaching the brig, the anchor was weighed, and with a fresh sea-breeze from South-East we soon reached Oyster Harbour, but in crossing the bar the vessel took the ground in eleven and a half feet water, and it was some time before we succeeded in heaving her over, and reaching the anchorage we had occupied at our last visit.

Whilst warping in, the natives, who had followed the vessel along the sandy beach that separates the two harbours, were amusing themselves near us in striking fish with a single barbed spear, in which sport they appeared to be tolerably successful.

As soon as we passed the bar three other natives made their appearance on the east side, who, upon the boat going to that shore to lay out the kedges, took their seats in it as unceremoniously as a passenger would in a ferry-boat; and upon its returning to the brig, came on board, and remained with us all the afternoon, much amused with everything they saw, and totally free from timidity or distrust.