As night approaches, we retire to our beds.

The two Blackfellows and myself spread out each our own under the canopy of heaven, whilst Messrs.

Roper, Calvert, Gilbert, Murphy, and Phillips, have their tents.

Mr.Calvert entertains Roper with his conversation; John amuses Gilbert; Brown tunes up his corroborri songs, in which Charley, until their late quarrel, generally joined.

Brown sings well, and his melodious plaintive voice lulls me to sleep, when otherwise I am not disposed.