All he had left was a rifle with a ball jammed in the barrel,
four gallons of water, forty pounds of flour, and a little tea and sugar.
When he had time to collect his thoughts, Eyre judged from the position
of the body, that Baxter must have been disturbed by the boys plundering
the camp, and getting up to stop them, had been immediately shot. His
next care was to put his rifle in serviceable condition, and then as
morning broke they hastened away from the fatal camp. It was impossible
even to bury the body of his murdered companion; one vast unbroken
surface of sheet rock extended for miles in every direction. Well might
Eyre exclaim:--
"Though years have now passed away since the enactment of this tragedy,
the dreadful horrors of that time and scene are recalled before me with
frightful vividness, and make me shudder even now when I think of them. A
lifetime was crowded into those few short hours, and death alone may blot
out the impressions they produced."
That evening the two murderers re-appeared in the scrub, following the
white man and boy. Eyre attempted to get close to them, but they would
not come near, remaining at a distance, calling out to the remaining boy
(Wylie), who, however, refused to go to them.
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