Friday, 29th June, 1861.--Clear cold night, slight breeze from the
east, day beautifully warm and pleasant. Mr. Burke suffers greatly
from the cold and is getting extremely weak; he and King start
to-morrow up the creek to look for the blacks; it is the only
chance we have of being saved from starvation. I am weaker than
ever, although I have a good appetite and relish the nardoo much;
but it seems to give us no nutriment, and the birds here are so shy
as not to be got at. Even if we got a good supply of fish, I doubt
whether we could do much work on them and the nardoo alone. Nothing
now but the greatest good luck can save any of us; and as for
myself I may live four or five days if the weather continues warm.
My pulse is at forty-eight, and very weak, and my legs and arms are
nearly skin and bone. I can only look out, like Mr. Micawber, 'for
SOMETHING TO TURN up;' starvation on nardoo is by no means very
unpleasant, but for the weakness one feels, and the utter inability
to move one's self; for as far as appetite is concerned, it gives
the greatest satisfaction. Certainly fat and sugar would be more to
one's taste; in fact those seem to me to be the great stand-by for
one in this extraordinary continent: not that I mean to depreciate
the farinaceous food; but the want of sugar and fat in all
substances obtainable here is so great that they become almost
valueless to us as articles of food, without the addition of
something else.
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