Probably for this reason the chief begged that the dying man might be carried to another hut less needful to himself, and as he had been kind and friendly throughout Mr.
Burrup thought it right to comply.

Shortly after, on the afternoon of the 31st of January, the pure, gentle, and noble spirit passed away.

The chief, from superstitious fear, insisted that the body should be immediately interred, and not on the island, and Mr.Burrup and the Malokolo therefore laid it in their canoe, and paddled to the mainland, where a spot was cleared in the bush, the grave dug, and as it was by this time too dark to see to read, Mr.Burrup said all that he could remember of the burial service, the four blacks standing wondering and mournful by.
He saw that for himself the only hope was in a return to Magomero.

The canoe was tried, but the current was so strong that such small numbers could not make head against it.

He therefore proceeded on foot, but fell down repeatedly from weakness, and was only dragged on by his strong will and the aid of the Malokolo.