Baxter, the overseer, wished to attempt to return; but, Eyre being resolute, the overseer loyally determined to stay with him to the last.

One horse was killed for food; dysentery broke out; the natives deserted them, but came back starving and penitent, and were permitted to remain with the white men.
Then came the tragedy which makes this narrative so conspicuously terrible, even in the annals of Australian exploration.

Two of the black men shot the overseer, Baxter, as he slept, and then ran away, perishing, it is supposed, miserably in the desert.

Eyre, when some distance from the place where poor Baxter rested, looking after the horses, heard the report of the gun and hurried back, arriving just in time to receive the pathetic look of farewell from the murdered man, who had served him so long and so faithfully.
Wylie, the black boy, who had been with Eyre in Adelaide, now alone remained, and it is scarcely possible to imagine a more appalling situation than that in which Eyre then found himself.

The murderers had carried away nearly the whole of the scanty stock of provisions, leaving only forty pounds of flour, a little tea and sugar, and four gallons of water.