In his blanket folding him, we scraped away the earth.
We scrape earth into the grave, we scrape the earth into the grave, a little wood we place in it.

Much earth we heap upon it, much earth we throw up.

No dogs can dig there, so much earth we throw up.

The sun had just inclined to the westward as we laid him in the ground.
...
The following are extracts from a journal kept by me whilst resident at King George's Sound.
ROBBERY BY PEERAT'S WIVES.

TRANSACTIONS WITH THE NATIVES IN A CASE OF POTATO STEALING.
Thursday January 23.
Directly after breakfast a soldier came to me with a complaint that the natives had last night robbed his garden in the settlement of nearly one hundred weight of potatoes; I was determined to have here no repetition of scenes similar to what had recently taken place; and therefore resolved to act promptly and vigorously upon this first offence.
My first object was, in my punishment, not to involve the innocent and guilty together, which is too often done by the Europeans in these colonies.
I therefore got hold of an intelligent native of the name of Moyee-e-nan, and, accompanied by him, visited the garden whence the potatoes had been stolen; he found the tracks of three natives and, availing himself of the faculty which they possess of telling who has passed from their footmarks, he informed me that the three thieves had been the two wives of a native of the name Peerat, and a little boy named Dal-be-an, the son of Peerat.