On Tuesday 28 October 1834, somewhere between 15 and 80 Nyungar people were shot and killed on the banks or in the waters of Dhungala/the Murray River southeast of Perth, the newly minted capital of the British colonial possession known as Western Australia. Among the living descendants of those killed, what occurred was a massacre; Anglo accounts mostly persist in referring to it as a battle. There is evidence that what were, in fact, extrajudicial killings by representatives of the state continue to harm any possibility of decolonization, which is intrinsic to recognition respect, posthumous dignity, and forgiveness. The waters of the Dhungala/Murray, the drowned, and the living all remain inside a complicated spectral geography that I think must also be attended by a deep but mobilizing shame among those of us who are from settler-colonial backgrounds. Thinking about how to reshape that geography is at the heart of this chapter. Does going over that evidence again here serve any purpose? I think so. Those who died in the water were not recovered, and in Nyungar cosmologies could not journey on. They remain a silent but not necessarily absent presence along the riverscape and quite probably out into the waters of the Indian Ocean, which had brought to their shores Britain’s invading forces, systematic colonization, and private property regimes. The drowned of Pinjarra must be considered: this work is—and should be—difficult but it is crucial for efforts to assure posthumous dignity.