# Some Account of the Wars, Extirpation, Habits, &c., of the Native Tribes of Tasmania/Sealers v. Blacks

SEALERS V. BLACKS: A STRAITSMAN'S STORY.
(From notes supplied by Mr. Alexander M'Kay,)
But on the Natives of that Land misused, Not long the silence of amazement hung, Nor brooked they long their friendly faith abused; For, with a common shriek, the general tongue Exclaimed, 'To arms'—and fast to arms they sprung.
Sir W. Scott's Vision of Don Roderick.
In the long contention between black and white, that followed their first rencontre at Risdon, on the 3rd of May, 1804, down to the submission of the last of the tribes to Mr. Robinson, 28th December, 1834, the worst disasters that our opponents suffered, were inflicted on them on the north-east coast of Tasmania, where (and where only) they had the worst of the fight.
These disasters were occasioned them by certain men of our own race, almost as savage as themselves, who occupied some of the islands of the straits, and were known in early history as the sealers of Banks' Straits, (that is that portion of Bass' Straits that lay between Flinders Island and the mainland, about Cape Portland). Of these men, of whom there were not thirty families or single individuals, very little intelligence has been preserved—at least in print—and of their many fights with the blacks, for the possession of their women, nothing that I know of has been communicated to the public except a few general remarks, written by myself, for the Australasian newspaper, about two years ago, which I collected from certain old M.S. documents that are preserved in the Colonial Secretary's office. But even these old papers contain few or no details of the many skirmishes that were fought out on the North East Coast between the sealers and the blacks, during the last 10 or 20 years of the existence of the native tribes at large, in which many lives were sacrificed on both sides. These fights ended mostly, but by no means always, to the disadvantage of the black race, who, in everything connected with bush fighting, were a very formidable foe.
​The following incidents of the war, as it was carried on, on the North East Coast, are offered as illustrations of the many savage but unrecorded encounters that took place in the Cape Portland districts about 50 years ago, between the straitsmen and blacks, and may be relied on as perfectly authentic narratives:—
In about 1826, there were living on Guncarriage, now Vansittart Island, Bass' Straits, a number of sealers, that is to say several parties of them, who worked in gangs of fours or fives. Each party was furnished with a first class boat, suitable for the perilous enterprises they were so often engaged in on the rocks of the Straits, (then much resorted to by the beautiful fur-seal), often requiring them to undertake long boat voyages from group to group, during the breeding season; or to the mainlands of Australia or Tasmania as kangaroo hunters, which occupation, after the seals left our coasts, they followed as a branch of their calling.
Of these parties one was headed by a man named Duncan, who was the owner of one of these clipping boats. This person had formerly been the mate of a ship, and the crew he now worked with consisted of himself—two men who were natives of Sydney—and one other named Thomas Tucker, the last named person taking chief part in the transactions that I am about to give an account of.
Of this man Tucker, however it may have happened that he now followed the half savage life of a sealer in Bass' Straits, (a quarter then too often the refugium of men of bad character and practises,) was a gentleman by birth, education, &c., and had once held a commission in the Royal Navy; and in writing of times when Tasmania was a convict colony, it may be as well to say, that he was always a free person. A love of perilous enterprise and wild adventure, I presume it was, that threw him amongst the sealers of Bass' Straits.
He is described to me as a rather extraordinary person, of great natural talents, and acquired endowments, having had an excellent education and careful home training in youth. He was a very ingenious fellow, who could turn his hand to anything, and was therefore perfectly self-reliant, and it is believed that up to the present time his moral character was not a bad one.
He was the most daring, active and servicable man in the Straits; and it has to be said to his credit, that he made a better use of the good training he himself had received, than almost any other person would voluntarily have done, in educating gratuitously the sealers' children, during such periods of leisure as he could snatch from his adventurous calling.
​Such of the sealers, however, who had families, of whom Duncan was one, were not married to the women to whom they had united themselves. Their women were of the savage races of Australia or Tasmania, either purchased or stolen from the mainland tribes, but chiefly from those of this island, from which connexions the half-caste race now found on the islands has sprung.
Captains Kelly and Hobbs, who visited the Islands, very many years ago, and who saw a good deal of the old race of sealers, say that these poor women were mostly purchased of their parents, either for the carcasses of the seal, or for hunting dogs. But quarrels springing up between the two races, in which several of each side were killed, the natives grew chary of intercourse with the whites, and this species of barter was so much interrupted, that at last women could only be obtained by force.
Many skirmishes took place, particularly on our own coasts, for the women, the sealers making free use of their firearms, and the others spearing their opponents whenever they got a chance. The sealers had the best of the fight, and the north coast is the only part of the colony where for a while the whites really beat the blacks, many idle stories to the contrary, notwithstanding.
Captain Kelly, who was employed in 1815 and '16 on the pacific mission of making the circuit of this island, was himself nearly cut off by the blacks on several occasions. They were then very numerous, and he could scarcely ever go ashore without being attacked by them.
Having just mentioned Duncan's party at the outset, I found it necessary before proceeding to describe its movements, to say the little I have done about the principal actor of this tale, and also to describe in as few words as I could use, the cause that led to the long misunderstanding between sealer and black, I must now return to Guncarriage Island, where Duncan's people had their head quarters.
Of the four persons of whom Duncan's party consisted namely, himself, Tucker, and two young men of Sydney, the three last named were all single men, and they now sailed for the mainland of Tasmania, to secure, either by purchase or surprise, as many native girls as they wanted.
This is the first act of aggression on the liberty of the blacks, in which Tucker is known to have taken any part; but not so the others, and dearly did the natives make the pay for disturbing them in their hunting grounds.
The boat sailed accordingly for Cape Portland, carrying beside the party above named, Duncan's wife, as his woman was styled, and her half-caste son, an infant 2 or 3 years old. They ​landed on one of the beaches near Cape Portland, on land now the property of Mr. John Foster, of Hobart Town, and formed their camp under the shelter of one of the low hummocks that lie along the shore-line of this quarter.
Duncan, who had been frequently engaged in feuds against the blacks, and hitherto successfully, led the fray; Tucker remaining in charge of the boat and encampment, and Duncan's son was left in his care.
The leader was a very fool-hardy fellow, and some previous successes had inspired him with such a contempt of the blacks, that it was his boast to say he was a match for any number of them. Taking his woman to act as negotiator with them, he started along with his mates in search of the Cape Portland tribe. Tucker entreated him again and again to arm his party, but could not prevail on his unreasonable mate to hear of such a thing. What, he asked, did he want with arms against mere naked black-fellows? any number of whom he could beat single-handed, whether armed or not; and accompanied as he was now by two such men as his Sydney companions, there was nothing to fear from a hundred of them, and at parting, jeeringly told his more prudent counsellor to have no fears of him, and that he would be back before night, bringing a dozen girls with him for him to choose from.
Instances of rashness like Duncan's were not uncommon on the frontier grounds of the colony during the thirty years fight between black and white. Thus Simmonds' Bay (a nook of Barnes' Bay, North Bruny) is called after a lime-burner, who sacrificed his life to a senseless feeling of contempt for the courage of the black men. This beautiful cove was great a place of great resort of the Bruny tribe, and their intrusions, as Simmonds thought them, were resented by him, as though they, and not he, were the trespassers on the ground he occupied, and they were ordered off whenever they came. Mistaking his commands for requests, they were at first complied with. But finding them so frequently repeated, they got tired of them at last. On these occasions, it was his custom to take a stick with him to beat them off if necessary. The last notice that Simmonds gave them to quit was late in November of 1822; but they began to understand him by this time, and laughed in his face for his impertinence, whereon he struck the one nearest him. But this was the last act of his life, for the offended black turned on him like a tiger, drove his spear through hun, and he was a dead man the next moment.
Duncan's woman soon got traces of the tribe they were in pursuit of, and came on their huts it is believed in the afternoon, or even earlier. The Cape Portland natives hated the sealers, ​and none more so than Duncan himself, whom they recognised immediately. Snatching down their spears from the trees in which they customarily stuck them when in repose, they only waited till he was within range; then, with the fatal aim for which they were so famous, he was struck in nearly all parts of his body at once. He fell of course, death ensuing instantaneously.
The two Sydney men fled for their lives directly; and as the blacks did not pursue them at once, they succeeded in gaining the coast, but at a considerable distance from the camp before they were overtaken. They plodded on rapidly towards the boat but failed to reach it, the superior agility of the blacks proving too much for them. The particulars of the meeting have been too imperfectly preserved for narration, but as their dead bodies were found a few days afterwards in a shockingly mutilated state, no doubt was left about who were the authors of this massacre.
Duncan's woman remained with her own race. Glad of regaining her liberty, she voluntarily rejoined them; and without regret, resigned to chance the half-caste offspring of her forced connection with Duncan.
It is a remarkable fact, but vouched for by Mr. G. A. Robinson, that the black women though passionately fond of children of their own blood, as a rule detested such as they bore to white men; and on this occasion Duncan's woman abandoned her only son with perfect unconcern.
In following the relation that I have received of these transactions, the narrative reconducts me to the sealers camp at Cape Portland.
The first and second day of Tucker's solitude closed, but Duncan and his companions returned not to the boat; and he grew more and more uneasy as their absence was prolonged, till a sentiment of fear for their safety overpowered every other feeling. It was in vain that he endeavoured to suppress the idea that some evil had befallen them, the presentiment that was on him grew the stronger the more he strove to dismiss it from his mind. He tried to believe it possible that they had failed to reach the tribe so soon as they hoped, and were still in pursuit; but this hope vanished as he remembered they had made no provision for an absence of more than a few hours, after which they should have returned, they might have lost themselves—but this was most unlikely in a nearly open district, and with a native woman for a guide, who could have retraced their steps one by one to the boat, like a bloodhound; and his belief settled at last into an immutabe conviction that they would not come back again. Frequently during the second day, did he fire off his piece to notify the position of the camp in case they might be returning, but the precaution ​was an useless one, and its echoes were its sole response. He passed the night in restless anxiety and was abroad at day dawning of the third morning, watching on the sandhill, but to no purpose. He returned to his tent sick at heart and lay down, whilst Duncan's little child amused itself outside as he best could. Young as this infant was, he had even now a little of the cunning and vigilance of the race he belonged to, by the mother's side at least, and Tucker, though half wearied out, noticed that he kept running in and out of the tent, with unusual frequency, and an evident desire to communicate something he was too young to explain. But the sealer unhappily gave less heed than he ought to the peculiar movements of the child, and he remained within.
But at this instant he was effectually aroused from his inaction by a volley of spears and stones striking the tent with uncommon force, accompanied by the shouts of the natives who were now surrounding his domicile. Tucker sprung to his feet, and seizing his two-barrel gun and the child, he got to the top of the sandhill mentioned above, before a second spear was thrown, determined if die he must, there to defend himself as he best could to the last. He had plenty ammunition and was a deadly shot, which latter fact was known to the tribe, but more particularly to at least two of the most forward of those savages, who had been on the Straits islands along with him before this time. Directily he was gone from the tent, the natives took possession of it and of his boat also, which latter they tried to set fire to, but from some unexplained cause, they failed to damage it much.
Amongst the natives present, he observed Duncan's woman, and the two men spoken of just above, to whom he was known. These young fellows had been taken in infancy, and were brought up amongst our own people, by whom they were named respectively Murray and Jack. Both of them had lived much in Hobart Town, where they earned a living on the water, either as boatmen or sailors, and both had visited the Straits islands in the sealing season, in vessels fitted out for the seal trade, and more than once had worked the seal rookeries in company with Tucker. But as usual with these civilised blacks, as they were called, their natural hankerings for savage life never departed from them, and they were as difficult to tame permanently as wolves or wood pigeons are, unless when taken so young as to retain no remembrance of the wild life to which they were born; and there is hardly an instance of their not rejoining their own people on reaching manhood, and it was observed of these particular individuals that they were ever afterwards the most forward and mischevious of the tribe, and the directors of their movements in ​their numerous hostile incursions into the settled districts; and now, by Tucker's own account, these two young men, more than any of the rest, evinced the most determined hostility towards him, "and did all they could," says the account I am writing from, "to get at and kill him." But the well directed piece of this unerring marksman, as they well knew him to be, kept them back. Luckily the great body of them were more intent on plundering his tent and boat, than on murder, or his life was not worth a minute's purchase, for though he might have killed or disabled two or three of them in an united onslaught, they were far too numerous to be kept long at bay in any general attack. Tucker now called out to Duncan's woman to come to him, promising not to fire, if she came alone, and she did so. He then enquired what had become of his companions; but it was long before he could get at the facts, for she was either afraid or disinclined to speak out, and she prevaricated and fenced every question, like an unwilling witness under legal examination. They had gone, she first at pretended, to Launceston, then somewhere else, or were away with some of the tribe hunting, and would soon be back, "but all of which," says M'Kay's manuscript, "he knew to be wrong." Tucker was a patient fellow, but her evasions wore out even his patience in time, and so annoyed him, that he pointed his piece at her at last, saying unless she let him know what had happened them, he would blow her head off where she stood, when she owned that the natives had killed them all—Duncan certainly, and the others she believed. He next asked her whether she would return to the islands with him, or remain with her tribe? She chose to stay where she was.
The day wore on, and Tucker still kept his post on the top of the sand-cone, no one caring to take his first shots. Indeed most of them seemed satisfied with the mischief they had already done, and some of them left with their shares of the plunder of his tent. He observed their indifference, and through Duncan's woman entered into a parley with them, proposing that they should give him his boat and let him go, promising not to fire on any one if this were done; and as night was coming on, and they themselves wished to get back to their camp, his proposal was agreed to, and some women were sent to assist him in launching the boat, which was put into the water, and Tucker went down to the beach to embark, Duncan's boy following closely behind him. But just as he was going to step into her, a native man who was crouching within some boobialla scrub, sprung from his hiding place, and snatching up the child, ran off with it to some rocks, and then giving it a swing over his head, dashed its ​brains out against them. The sealer instinctively raised his piece for a shot at the murderer, bat remembring his promise not to fire on anyone, and that his own safety depended on his keeping his word, the man escaped for the present. But Tucker marked him. It was Murray.
The wind blew off the land when he commenced his dreary night's voyage homewards, and he steered for the islands under a mizen only, the boat's mainsail and jib, of which his tent was made, being left with the natives. The breeze, however, was fresh and fair, and he kept before it all night, and when morning broke was off Preservation Island, on which he soon afterwards landed.
From this time forward Tucker's whole nature seemed changed. He was perhaps never a good man, but he was not a cruel one. But the loss of his mates, and the dangers he had so lately escaped from, gave rapid expansion to whatever evil there was within him, the latent seeds of which, like the prophets gourd, grew into maturity in a single night, but unlike it withered not away again. He was, moreover, as we have seen, fond of children, and the horrid death of one he had charge of only yesterday, gave intensity to a passion for revenge which now began to dominate over his reason.
Several other sealers to whom he was known were staying on Preservation Island, and to them he told the disastrous story of the death of his mates, and easily engaged them to assist in avenging it; and so as soon as the wind served, they sailed for Cape Portland, well armed and equipped for a murderous fight with the blackfellows.
Cape Portland is more properly a point of land than a cape. The shore hereabouts is almost everywhere low, and presents many points where a landing may be made in moderate weather. The country about it is not a fertile one, the best of it that I now remember, are a few hundred acres, in the midst of which it is that the pleasant homestead of Mr. John Foster, of Hobart Town, is planted. It was not far from here that the sealers landed, forming a temporary camp of their sails. But the wandering tribe had left the neighbourhood for other hunting grounds by this time, and their search after them, though it broke best part of a week, was an unavailing one, and they returned to the islands.
But Tucker never afterwards relinquished the idea of taking a full revenge on the Cape Portland tribe, wherever he might fall in with it; and above all, to destroy, if possible, the two youths, Jack and Murray. He made no secret of his intentions, and all the sealing community knew them; and as the sympathies ​of the large majority of these half lawless men were with Tucker, they quite approved his determination.
There was, however, one party of them who took no part in the many contentions that occurred at this time, now 1827, between sealer and black, but who managed to keep on good terms with the latter throughout, and there was perfect confidence between them and the tribes of the north-east coast of the colony. The leader of this party, as he was styled, from being the owner of their boat, was named Thompson. The natives knew his boat and never retreated when they saw it approaching the mainland, or took any precaution if they found that he was in her. All the sealers resorted to the mainland at times to take kangaroos, the skins of which have been in demand in this market, time out of mind. But Thompson's crew was the only one with whom the natives now held friendly intercourse, and when they met, many kind offices were done on both sides. Did Thompson's people want help to beach or unbeach their boat, the blacks were ready to lend a hand, or they would bring wood or water to his camp; whilst he on his part would cross them to the off-lying rocks during the egging season, and recross them to the main afterwards; give them seal carcasses, &c., &c.
It is said by Robinson in one of his many reports on the condition of the blacks (January 24th, 1831), that none of the natives of the North or East Coasts had the least idea of making or using a catamaran, like those dwelling on the South and West Coast districts had. Indeed, the configuration of the shores he is speaking of, which are not much broken into bays, gave them little occasion to trust themselves afloat; and as no Tasmanian native ever gave himself the smallest unnecessary trouble, these "machines," as Robinson calls them, were never constructed by them; so if the North or East Coast tribes desired to visit any of the bird rocks that were not within swimming distance, they had no means of doing so unless a friendly boatman were at hand, to cross and recross them. Thompson, when he had leisure, never refused them this service, thus enabling them in egging time to add largely to their food supplies.
The tribes who formerly roamed about Cape Portland had now no other white associates excepting Thompson and his crew; and he took advantage of a visit from the horde, whom Tucker and others had lately tried to surprise, to put them on their guard against the designs of this man, and more particularly told them of the certain doom of Murray and Jack, if they gave him the chance of a shot at them.
The sealing season of 1827 was approaching; and of the ​boats that took part in it, one was from Hobart Town. On its passage to the straits, the crew put in for one night at the Eddystone boat harbour, at a moment when the Cape Portland tribe were hunting there. The boat's crew, as too usual with sailors, were a careless set of fellows, and not thinking in the least of danger, kept no lookout for squalls of any kind when ashore; and after forming a rude shelter for the night, retired within to refresh, a good while before dusk, leaving their boat at anchor, but with the stern-fast ashore. The men of the Cape Portland tribe were just the reverse of our sailors, that is, they were ever on the watch, either to do mischief to others or avoid danger, and had no difficulty in surprising the strangers, who, all at once, found their place of refuge encircled by a cordon of armed savages. Our sailors tired a random shot or two, and then ran to their boat, amidst such a whizzing of spears, as they had not dreamed of hearing when they landed. Luckily for them it had grown pretty dark by this time, and the usually fine aim of the black was not very true. The crew reached the boat and got off, but some of them were very badly wounded.
Many boats and scores of homesteads were thus surprised every year by "the poor benighted down trodden savages," as it was the fasion of silly despatch-writers and sentimental pamphleteers to style this clever but sanguinary race of men, who were the aggressors in nearly every skirmish, who for many years kept the colony in a greater state of alarm than the bushrangers did, and whose final extinction was far more due to a combination of disastrous natural causes converging simultaneously on their camps, than to the bullet of the white settler, or even the extraordinary daring and judgment of Mr. Robinson.
After the above described specimen of native subtlety, the Hobart Town sealing party stuck to their boat till they reached the straits islands, not again touching the mainland during their voyage. They skirted along the north eastern shore of Cape Barren Island, and eventually landed on Guncarriage, where Tucker had his home, and where he unhappily was then to receive them.
He was never slow or chary of giving his assistance to any one visiting his island home, more especially to men in distress like these new arrivals were; and he now collected a few other fellows to help them unload their boat and beach her, which done, he conducted them to his neat little cottage, that stood near the landing place.
"What's up with you?" was his first enquiry after they were settled down in his cottage, "What's the matter. Some of you seem badly hurt."
​"The natives—the natives at Eddystone harbor," said one of the wounded men.
"Those damned Cape Portlanders, I warrant it," said Tucker with emphasis, "the most bloody tribe on the coast. They hunt there and as far south as George's Bay. It's only the other day like, that they killed three of my own mates, and a boy belonging to one of them; and now it's not their fault, but your good luck, that they have not killed all of you. But we will talk over the affair after I have stopped the shotholes they have put through you, for I am surgeon and everything at these islands."
He found that two of the five were badly hit, and one other more slightly. The two former he thought would not be able to do much during the approaching season; however he was quite surgeon enough to deal with worse cases than these; he dressed their wounds, and otherwise treated them so professionally, that in about eight weeks the two worst of them were able to resume light work.
About a week after landing at Guncarriage, the sealing work began; and Tucker who often worked the rocks on the East Coast, and was still hankering for a brush with the blacks, resolved to commence operations where he would be within reach of the tribe if they came down to the coast during the time he was there. Of the unwounded strangers who joined him for the season, one was—Rogers, and the others Little and Sydney. These three and a native woman called Dumpy, with whom Tucker was now allied, completed the party.
Tucker said nothing to his new friends about his designs on the natives; nor had they any suspicion of them through extra preparations being made for the trip in the shape of guns and ammunition; for as sealing was mostly carried on by shooting from the boat, these articles were necessarily supplied in abundance for their legitimate work.
So soon as the wind served they started for the East Coast, and first worked the George rock, about five miles northerly of Eddystone Point. Here they remained about a couple of nights, and then left for the sealers' refuge, as they called the little boat harbour at Eddystone Point. At this refuge the sealers had a permanent camp consisting of two good huts, that were used in common by the straitsmen as their occasions required, when they were kangaroo hunting on shore. Here they landed with such things as they required. They breakfasted, and then Rogers, Little, and Sydney, who were very tired, went into the hut to rest, leaving Tucker and the woman outside at the fire, and were soon asleep.
The Cape Portland tribe were still here, though not close to ​the harbour at this moment. But as day advanced some indications of their approach, which no European would observe, reached the ears of the black woman; but she said nothing until better assured of the fact. Tucker and her still sat by the fire, smoking their pipes, while their mates slept. The land all along the north-eastern shores is very open, so that with the commonest vigilance there was no danger of any sudden surprise. All at once, however, the woman started and whispered to Tucker, "here are the blackfellows," pointing at them at the same time. He looked round just in time to see the head of one of them peering at them over a low rise, which was withdrawn directly, and not a vestige of the hundreds who were creeping stealthily on them, to surround them, was to be seen. Our natives managed their attacking movements with uncommon skill, and hundreds are the instances of their sorrounding dwellings in perfect swarms without their exciting the smallest suspicion of their being at hand. No more subtle a race could be than the Tasmanian savages.
Tucker was not an easily alarmed man at any time, and was not much intimidated even now. His double gun, which was loaded and ready for instant work, lay near at hand, and as his mates had their sealing rifles, they were net to be trifled with when they were on the look-out. Knowing that the blacks never fought at disadvantage, he judged there would be no immediate attack. He therefore called out to them, through the woman, to let them know that he saw them, and was ready for them if they meant fighting, but, if not, that he did not wish to hurt them. His tone was friendly, but his words were those of deceit. Several heads were now seen since they discovered that they were observed, on which he invited two or three of them to come over to him, all the rest to keep back. But they hesitated, none relishing an interview with a man whom they had robbed and tried to kill so very lately, and it was long before he could soothe them into a good humour.
"What are you afraid of?" said he, "Come over, but not too many of you; we shan't hurt you. Is Murray with you? Let him and Jack and two or three others come, but not more, and I will give them as much tobacco and other things for all hands as they choose to carry away."
Jack and Murray were there, but still held back.
"We not come," said both the youths together (for they spoke the language very fairly). "Thompson tell us you shoot us."
"Then Thompson's a liar," said he, "I would sooner shoot him than you. I never told him so. Not I. I could have shot ​you, Murray, if I had chosen, when you killed the child, but I let you go, and will not hurt you now, so either come over to us, or all of you go away."
His promises of friendship and the presents he would give them, at length reassured them, and four of them came, namely, a young man named Limaganua, a youth of about fourteen, (whom M'Kay says was the handsomest native he ever saw,) besides Jack and Murray. Others would have come, but Tucker motioned them to keep off, the woman telling them he would have no more of them, and cautioned them all to come no nearer, otherwise they would take to their boat.
Tucker then set them down to breakfast, and whilst they were busy with the good things before them, he rose up quite unconcernedly and went to the hut where Rogers, Little, and Sydney were still sleeping heavily after their recent fatigue, and the discomforts of the George's rocks, for neither of them were so hardy as Tucker. He woke them quietly, telling them to get up directly and bring out their rifles, as the natives were all around them.
Rogers and the others had had quite enough of the natives when at Eddystone Harbour some days ago, to last them for the rest of their lives and the intelligence that they had got into a second scrape with them in a fortnight was disheartening. Suddenly aroused from their heavy sleep, they scarcely knew what they were doing at first, for they were half stupefied, by being thus hastily awoke. Up to this time neither of them knew anything of Tucker's evil designs on the men whom they saw sitting at their fire, to which he had entrapped them; but thinking of nothing but their own safety, they did as they were bid and followed him. The fifth and last act of the tragedy, I will give as nearly as I can in M'Kay's own words:—
"Sydney has told me many a time. 'I took up my gun as we all did, not knowing what was the matter. When we came out, there were the natives at breakfast. Murray sitting on a water keg, and the rest on the ground. I saw poor Murray's heart beat again as we approached, guns in hand, to where he sat. His pannican full of tea dropped to the ground as we came near, and he saw Tucker cocking his rifle. In two two steps Tucker was beside him, and said to him, "Murray, you have lived long enough," drew the triggers of his double-barrel, and both charges went into his heart. He fell dead directly. The other natives jump up, and Limaganna ran off, Rogers who was yet hardly awake, presented at Limaganua, when Tucker calls out (pointing to Jack), "Jacky's your mark—Jacky's your mark." Poor Jack called out "No, no," that is imploring him not to ​shoot him, and holding both hands before his face retreated hastily backwards. Rogers fired but missed him, when he turned quickly round, and ran rapidly down to the sea. Sydney neither fired nor meant to fire, for by this time he began to think there was something not right. But Tucker's thirst for blood was not yet slaked, and noticing Sydney's hesitation, and that Jack was escaping, snatched the rifle from his hand Taking his usual steady aim at his victim, the bullet passed into the back of his head, and he ran no further.
"'Limaganna escaped, but the boy clung to the woman, and implored her not to let him be killed. Tucker, whose vengance was now appeased, looked at him mildly, and by kind words and some presents calmed his fears, and allowed him to rejoin his people, who were withdrawing, and the sealing party left to recommence work.'
"Sydney was very angry with Tucker for what he had done, and has often told me he was very sorry ever after that he was accidentally present at these murders, even though he took no part in them.
"Limaganna, and also a brother of his, were both shot in some farm fight at Break o'Day Plains, in 1830; and the next year, the boy now about 15 years of age, was made prisoner by me along with some other natives of Musselrow River, and was sent to the aboriginal establishment in the Straits."
Mr. Alexander M'Kay, from whom I received the outline sketch of the above narrative, is now a settler at Peppermint Bay, D'Entrecasteux Channel, where he has resided more than 30 years. He is about 68 years old, but hale and strong in an uncommon degree, the natural consequence of a life of activity, and a constitution that has never been abused by unhealthy indulgences. I have known him well for about three and forty years. We are very old bush chums, and have walked some thousands of miles together; and I can say truly of him that he is the best bush companion I have ever had. Full of anecdote, no one knows more of the old times than he, and as no one has ranged the colony more than M'Kay, (between 1825 and '40) his local knowledge is extensive. He was in early life one of the first employes of the Van Diemen's Land Company, as explorer at one time, and master of one of their crafts at another, for he was a sailor by profession. From the service of the company he passed into that of the Aboriginal Mission under Robinson, to whom he rendered important services. But conceiving himself to be neglected by his chief, he threw up his engagement. ​Quitting Guncarriage Island, where the captive natives were domiciled before their removal to the establishment which they called Wyba Luma, on Flinders Island, he proceeded to Hobart Town, and Colonel Arthur, who had a very high opinion of him, immediately gave him a command independent of Mr. Robinson, in which he soon distinguished himself.
Before quitting Robinson, M'Kay had been twenty-three weeks on Guncarriage by himself, in charge of a large body of recently captured blacks, all as wild as wolves; and it is amongst the chief marvels of his adventurous and really extraordinary career, that he escaped with his life from amongst them.