CHAPTER II.

Prosecution of our course into the interior--Mosquito Brush--Aspect and

productions of the country--Hunting party of natives--Courageous

conduct of one of them--Mosquitoes--A man missing--Group of hills

called New-Year's Range--Journey down New-Year's Creek--Tormenting

attack of the kangaroo fly--Dreariness and desolation of the

country--Oxley's Table Land--D'Urban's Group--Continue our journey down

New-Year's Creek--Extreme Disappointment on finding it salt--Fall in

with a tribe of natives--Our course arrested by the want of fresh

water--Extraordinary sound--Retreat towards the Macquarie.

We left our position at the head of the plain early on the 13th of

January, and, ere the sun dipped, had entered a very different country

from that in which we had been labouring for the last three weeks. We

had, as yet, passed over little other than an alluvial soil, but found

that it changed to a red loam in the brushes immediately backing the

camp. An open forest track succeeded this, over which the vegetation

had an unusual freshness, indicating that the waters had not long

subsided from its surface. We shortly afterwards crossed a hollow,

similar to that Mr. Hume had described, in which bulrushes had taken

the place of reeds. Flooded-gum trees, of large size, were also growing

in it, but on either side box alone prevailed, under which the forest

grass grew to a considerable height. We crossed the hollow two or three

times, and as often remarked the line of separation between those

trees. The last time we crossed it the country rose a few feet, and we

journeyed for the remainder of the day, at one time over good plains,

at another through brushes, until we found water and feed, at which we

stopped for the night, after having travelling about thirteen miles on

a W. by N. course. The mosquitoes were so extremely troublesome at this

place that we called it Mosquito Brush. At this time my men were

improving rapidly, and Mr. Hume complained less, and looked better. I

hoped, therefore, that our progress would be rapid into the interior.

CREEK LEADING NORTHERLY; PRODUCTIONS OF THE COUNTRY.

On the 14th we took up a westerly course, and in the first instance

traversed a plain of great extent; the soil of which was for the most

part a red sandy loam, but having patches of light earth upon it. The

former was covered with plants of the chenopedia kind; the latter had

evidently been quagmires, and bore even then the appearance of

moisture. At about seven miles from Mosquito Brush we struck upon a

creek of excellent water, upon which the wild fowl were numerous. Some

natives was seen, but they were only women, and seemed so alarmed that

I purposely avoided them. As the creek was leading northerly, we traced

it down on that course for about seven miles, and then halted upon its

banks, which were composed of a light tenacious earth. Brushes of

casuarina existed near it, but a tortuous box was the prevailing tree,

which, excepting for the knees of small vessels, could not have been

applied to any use, while the flooded-gum had entirely disappeared.

Some ducks were shot in the afternoon, which proved a great treat, as

we had been living for some time on salt provisions. Our animals fared

worse than ourselves, as the bed of the creek was occupied by coarse

rushes, and but little vegetation was elsewhere to be seen. I here

killed a beautiful snake, of about four feet in length, and of a bright

yellow colour: I had not, however, the means of preserving it. Fraser

collected numerous botanical specimens, and among them two kinds of

caparis. Indeed a great alteration had taken place in the minor shrubs,

and few of those now prevalent had been observed to the eastward of the

marshes.

From the creek, which both I and Mr. Hume must have crossed on our

respective journeys, we held a westerly course for about fifteen miles,

through a country of alternate plain and brush, the latter

predominating, and in its general character differing but little from

that we had traversed the day previous.

The acacia pendula still continued to exist on the plains backed by

dark rows of cypresses (Cupressus callitris). In the brushes, box and

casuarina (Casuarina tortuosa), with several other kinds of eucalypti,

prevailed; but none of them were sufficiently large to be of use. The

plains were so extremely level that a meridian altitude could have been

taken without any material error; and I doubt much whether it would

have been possible to have traversed them had the season been wet.

HUNTING PARTY OF NATIVES.

As we were travelling through a forest we surprised a hunting party of

natives. Mr. Hume and I were considerably in front of our party at the

time, and he only had his gun with him. We had been moving along so

quietly that we were not for some time observed by them. Three were

seated on the ground, under a tree, and two others were busily employed

on one of the lower branches cutting out honey. As soon as they saw us,

four of them ran away; but the fifth, who wore a cap of emu feathers,

stood for a moment looking at us, and then very deliberately dropped

out of the tree to the ground. I then advanced towards him, but before

I got round a bush that intervened, he had darted away. I was fearful

that he was gone to collect his tribe, and, under this impression, rode

quickly back for my gun to support Mr. Hume. On my arrival I found the

native was before me. He stood about twenty paces from Mr. Hume, who

was endeavouring to explain what he was; but seeing me approach he

immediately poised his spear at him, as being the nearest. Mr. Hume

then unslung his carbine, and presented it; but, as it was evident my

re-appearance had startled the savage, I pulled up; and he immediately

lowered his weapon. His coolness and courage surprised me, and

increased my desire to communicate with him. He had evidently taken

both man and horse for one animal, and as long as Mr. Hume kept his

seat, the native remained upon his guard; but when he saw him dismount,

after the first astonishment had subsided, he stuck his spear into the

ground, and walked fearlessly up to him. We easily made him comprehend

that we were in search of water; when he pointed to the west, as

indicating that we should supply our wants there. He gave his

information in a frank and manly way, without the least embarrassment,

and when the party passed, he stepped back to avoid the animals,

without the smallest confusion. I am sure he was a very brave man; and

I left him with the most favourable impressions, and not without hope

that he would follow us.

From a more open forest, we entered a dense scrub, the soil in which

was of a bright-red colour and extremely sandy, and the timber of

various kinds. A leafless species of stenochylus aphylta, which, from

the resemblance, I at first thought one of the polygonum tribe, was

very abundant in the open spaces, and the young cypresses were

occasionally so close as to turn us from the direction in which we had

been moving. In the scrub we crossed Mr. Hume's tract, and, from the

appearance of the ground, I was led to believe mine could not be very

distant.

FATE OF THE MACQUARIE.

We struck upon a creek late in the afternoon, at which we stopped; New

Year's Range bearing nearly due west at about four miles' distance. Had

we struck upon my track, the question about which we were so anxious

would still have been undecided; but the circumstance of our having

crossed Mr. Hume's, which, from its direction, could not be mistaken,

convinced me of the fate of the Macquarie, and I felt assured that,

whatever channels it might have for the distribution of its waters, to

the north of our line of route, the equality of surface of the interior

would never permit it again to form a river; and that it only required

an examination of the lower parts of the marshes to confirm the theory

of the ultimate evaporation and absorption of its waters, instead of

their contributing to the permanence of an inland sea, as Mr. Oxley had

supposed.

NEW YEAR'S RANGE.

On the 17th of January we encamped under New Year's Range, which is the

first elevation in the interior of Eastern Australia to the westward of

Mount Harris. Yet when at its base, I do not think that we had ascended

above forty feet higher than the plains in the neighbourhood of that

last mentioned eminence. There certainly is a partial rise of country,

where the change of soil takes place from the alluvial deposits of the

marshes, to the sandy loam so prevalent on the plains we had lately

traversed; but I had to regret that I was unable to decide so

interesting a question by other than bare conjecture.

Notwithstanding that Mr. Hume had already been on them, I encouraged

hopes that a second survey of the country from the highest point of New

Year's Range would enable us to form some opinion of it, by which to

direct our future movements; but I was disappointed.

The two wooded hills I had seen from Oxley's Table Land were visible

from the range, bearing south; and other eminences bore by compass S.W.

and W. by S.; but in every other direction the horizon was unbroken. To

the westward, there appeared to be a valley of considerable extent,

stretching N. and S., in which latter direction there was a long strip

of cleared ground, that looked very like the sandy bed of a broad and

rapid river. The bare possibility of the reality determined me to

ascertain by inspection, whether my conjecture was right, and Mr. Hume

accompanied me on this excursion. After we left the camp we crossed a

part of the range, and travelled for some time through open forest land

that would afford excellent grazing in most seasons. We passed some

hollows, and noticed many huts that had been occupied near them; but

the hollows were now quite dry, and the huts had been long deserted.

After about ten miles' ride we reached a plain of white sand, from

which New Year's Range was distinctly visible; and this no doubt was

the spot that had attracted my attention. Pools of water continued on

it, from which circumstance it would appear that the sand had a

substratum of clay or marl. From this plain we proceeded southerly

through acacia scrub, bounding gently undulating forest land, and at

length ascended some small elevations that scarcely deserved the name

of hills. They had fragments of quartz profusely scattered over them;

and the soil, which was sandy, contained particles of mica.

MOSQUITOES.

The view from them was confused, nor did any fresh object meet our

observation. We had, however, considerably neared the two wooded hills,

and the elevations that from the range were to the S.W., now bore N.W.

of us. We had wandered too far from the camp to admit of our returning

to it to sleep; we therefore commenced a search for water, and having

found some, we tethered our horses near it for the night, and should

have been tolerably comfortable, had not the mosquitoes been so

extremely troublesome. They defied the power of smoke, and annoyed me

so much, that, hot as it was, I rolled myself in my boat cloak, and

perspired in consequence to such a degree, that my clothes were wet

through, and I had to stand at the fire in the morning to dry them. Mr.

Hume, who could not bear such confinement, suffered the penalty, and

was most unmercifully bitten.

A MAN MISSING.

We reached the camp about noon the following day, and learnt, to our

vexation, that one of the men, Norman, had lost himself shortly after

we started, and had not since been heard of. Dawber, my overseer, was

out in search of him. I awaited his return, therefore, before I took

any measures for the man's recovery; nor was I without hopes that

Dawber would have found him, as it appeared he had taken one of the

horses with him, and Dawber, by keeping his tracks, might eventually

have overtaken him. He returned, however, about 3 p.m. unsuccessful,

when Mr. Hume and I mounted our horses, and proceeded in different

directions in quest of him, but were equally disappointed.

We met at the creek in the dark, and returned to the camp together,

when I ordered the cypresses on the range to be set on fire, and thus

illuminated the country round for many miles. In the morning, however,

as Norman had not made his appearance, we again started in search of

the poor fellow, on whose account I was now most uneasy; for his horse,

it appeared, had escaped him, and was found with the others at watering

time.

I did not return to the camp until after sunset, more fatigued than I

recollect ever having been before. I was, however, rejoiced on being

informed that the object of my anxiety was safe in his tent; that he

had caught sight of the hill the evening before, and that he had

reached the camp shortly after I left it. He had been absent three

nights and two days, and had not tasted water or food of any kind

during that time.

To my enquiries he replied, that, being on horseback, he thought he

could have overtaken a kangaroo, which passed him whilst waiting at the

creek for the cattle, and that in the attempt, he lost himself. It

would appear that he crossed the creek in the dark, and his horse

escaped from him on the first night. He complained more of thirst than

of hunger, although he had drunk at the watering-place to such an

excess, on his return, as to make him vomit; but, though not a little

exhausted, he had escaped better than I should have expected.

COUNTRY AROUND NEW YEAR'S RANGE.

New Year's Range consists of a principal group of five hills, the

loftiest of which does not measure 300 feet in height. It has lateral

ridges, extending to the N.N.W. on the one hand, and bending in to the

creek on the other. The former have a few cypresses, sterculia, and

iron bark upon them; the latter are generally covered with brush, under

box; the brush for the most part consisting of two distinct species of

stenochylus, and a new acacia. The whole range is of quartz formation,

small fragments of which are profusely scattered over the ridges, and

are abundantly incrusted with oxide of iron. The soil in the

neighbourhood of New Year's Range is a red loam, with a slight mixture

of sand. An open forest country lies between it and the creek, and it

is not at all deficient in pasture.

NEW YEAR'S CREEK.

That a change of soil takes place to the westward of the creek, is

obvious, from the change of vegetation, the most remarkable feature of

which is the sudden check given to the further extension of the acacia

pendula, which is not to be found beyond it, it being succeeded by

another acacia of the same species and habits; neither do the plants of

the chenopedia class exist in the immediate vicinity of the range.

I place these hills, as far as my observations will allow, in east lon.

146 degrees 32 minutes 15 seconds, and in lat. 30 degrees 21 minutes

south; the variation of the compass being 6 degrees 40 minutes easterly.

As New Year's Creek was leading northerly, it had been determined to

trace it down as long as it should keep that course, or one to the

westward of it. We broke up the camp, therefore, under the range, on

the evening of the 18th, and moved to the creek, about two miles north

of the place at which we had before crossed it, with the intention of

prosecuting our journey on the morrow. But both Mr. Hume and I were so

fatigued that we were glad of an opportunity to rest, even for a single

day. We remained stationary, therefore, on the 19th; nor was I without

hope that the natives whom we had surprised in the woods, would have

paid us a visit, since Mr. Hume had met them in his search for Norman,

and they had promised not only to come to us, but to do all in their

power to find the man, whose footsteps some of them had crossed. They

did not, however, venture near us; and I rather attribute their having

kept aloof, to the circumstance of Mr. Hume's having fired a shot,

shortly after he left them, as a signal to Norman, in the event of his

being within hearing of the report. They must have been alarmed at so

unusual a sound; but I am sure nothing was further from Mr. Hume's

intention than to intimidate them; his knowledge of their manners and

customs, as well as his partiality to the natives, being equally

remarkable. The circumstance is, however, a proof of the great caution

that is necessary in communicating with them.

ANNOYED BY KANGAROO FLIES.

I have said that we remained stationary the day after we left the

range, with a view to enjoy a little rest; it would, however, have been

infinitely better if we had moved forward. Our camp was infested by the

kangaroo fly, which settled upon us in thousands. They appeared to rise

from the ground, and as fast as they were swept off were succeeded by

fresh numbers. It was utterly impossible to avoid their persecution,

penetrating as they did into the very tents.

The men were obliged to put handkerchiefs over their faces, and

stockings upon their hands; but they bit through every thing. It was to

no purpose that I myself shifted from place to place; they still

followed, or were equally numerous everywhere. To add to our

discomfort, the animals were driven almost to madness, and galloped to

and fro in so furious a manner that I was apprehensive some of them

would have been lost. I never experienced such a day of torment; and

only when the sun set, did these little creatures cease from their

attacks.

SUDDENLY RELIEVED.

It will be supposed that we did not stay to subject ourselves to

another trial; indeed it was with some degree of horror that the men

saw the first light of morning streak the horizon. They got up

immediately, and we moved down the creek, on a northerly course,

without breakfasting as usual. We found that dense brushes of casuarina

lined the creek on both sides, beyond which, to our left, there was

open rising ground, on which eucalypti, cypresses, and the acacia

longifolia, prevailed; whilst to the east, plains seemed to predominate.

Although we had left the immediate spot at which the kangaroo flies

(cabarus) seemed to be collected, I did not expect that we should have

got rid of them so completely as we did. None of them were seen during

the day; a proof that they were entirely local. They were about half

the size of a common house fly, had flat brown bodies, and their bite,

although sharp and piercing, left no irritation after it.

About noon we stopped at the creek side to take some refreshment. The

country bore an improved appearance around us, and the cattle found

abundance of pasture. It was evident that the creek had been numerously

frequented by the natives, although no recent traces of them could be

found. It had a bed of coarse red granite, of the fragments of which

the natives had constructed a weir for the purpose of taking fish. The

appearance of this rock in so isolated a situation, is worthy of the

consideration of geologists.

DESOLATION OF THE COUNTRY.

The promise of improvement I have noticed, gradually disappeared as we

proceeded on our day's journey, and we at length found ourselves once

more among brushes, and on the edge of plains, over which the rhagodia

prevailed. Nothing could exceed in dreariness the appearance of the

tracks through which we journeyed, on this and the two following days.

The creek on which we depended for a supply of water, gave such

alarming indications of a total failure, that I at one time, had

serious thoughts of abandoning my pursuit of it. We passed hollow after

hollow that had successively dried up, although originally of

considerable depth; and, when we at length found water, it was doubtful

how far we could make use of it. Sometimes in boiling it left a

sediment nearly equal to half its body; at other times it was so bitter

as to be quite unpalatable. That on which we subsisted was scraped up

from small puddles, heated by the sun's rays; and so uncertain were we

of finding water at the end of the day's journey, that we were obliged

to carry a supply on one of the bullocks. There was scarcely a living

creature, even of the feathered race, to be seen to break the stillness

of the forest. The native dogs alone wandered about, though they had

scarcely strength to avoid us; and their melancholy howl, breaking in

upon the ear at the dead of the night, only served to impress more

fully on the mind the absolute loneliness of the desert.

It appeared, from their traces that the natives had lingered on this

ground, on which they had perhaps been born, as long as it continued to

afford them a scanty though precarious subsistence; but that they had

at length been forced from it. Neither fish nor muscles remained in the

creek, nor emus nor kangaroos on the plains. How then could an European

expect to find food in deserts through which the savage wandered in

vain? There is no doubt of the fate that would have overtaken any one

of the party who might have strayed away, and I was happy to find that

Norman's narrow escape had made a due impression on the minds of his

comrades.

SANDY PLAINS; LEAVE THE CREEK.

We passed some considerable plains, lying to the eastward of the creek,

on parts of which the grass, though growing in tufts, was of luxuriant

growth. They were, however, more generally covered with salsola and

rhagodia, and totally destitute of other vegetation, the soil upon them

being a red sandy loam. The paths across the plains, which varied in

breadth from three to eight miles, were numerous; but they had not been

recently trodden. The creek continued to have a thick brush of

casuarina and acacia near it, to the westward of which there was a

rising open forest track; the timber upon it being chiefly box,

cypress, and the acacia longifolia. It was most probably connected with

New Year's Range, those elevations being about thirty miles distant. It

terminated in some gentle hills which, though covered in places with

acacia shrub, were sufficiently open to afford an extensive view. From

their summit Oxley's Table Land, towards which we had been gradually

working our way, was distinctly visible, distant about twenty miles,

and bearing by compass W. by S. On descending from these hills (called

the Pink Hills, from the colour of a flower upon them) which were

scattered over with fragments of slaty quartz, we traversed a box flat,

apparently subject to overflow, having a barren sandy scrub to its

left. I had desired the men to preserve a W.N.W. direction, on leaving

them, supposing that that course would have kept them near the creek;

but, on overtaking the party, I found that they had wandered completely

away from it. The fact was, that the creek had taken a sudden bend to

the eastward of N. and had thus thrown them out. It was with some

difficulty that we regained it before sunset; and we were at length

obliged to stop for the night at a small plain, about a quarter of a

mile short of it, but we had the satisfaction of having excellent feed

for the animals.

OXLEY'S TABLE LAND.

Fearful that New Year's Creek would take us too far to the eastward,

and being anxious to keep westward as much as possible, it struck me

that we could not, under existing circumstances, do better than make

for Oxley's Table Land. Water, I knew, we should find in a swamp at

it's base, and we might discover some more encouraging feature than I

had observed on my hasty visit to it. We left the creek, therefore on

the 23rd, and once more took up a westerly course. Passing through a

generally open country, we stopped at noon to rest the animals; and

afterwards got on an excellent grazing forest track, which continued to

the brush, through another part of which I had penetrated to the marsh

more to the south. While making our way through it, we came upon a

small pond of water, and must have alarmed some natives, as there was a

fresh made fire close to it. Our journey had been unusually long, and

the cattle had felt the heat so much, that the moment they saw water

they rushed into it; and, as this created some confusion, I thought it

best to stop where we were for the night.

In the morning, Mr. Hume walked with me to the hill, a distance of

about a mile. It is not high enough to deserve the name of a mountain,

although a beautiful feature in the country, and showing well from any

point of view. We ascended it with an anxiety that may well be

imagined, but were wholly disappointed in our most sanguine

expectations. Our chief object, in this second visit to Oxley's Table

Land, had been to examine, more at leisure, the face of the country

around it, and to discover, if possible, some fixed point on which to

move.

If the rivers of the interior had already exhausted themselves, what

had we to expect from a creek whose diminished appearance where we left

it made us apprehend its speedy termination, and whose banks we

traversed under constant apprehension? In any other country I should

have followed such a water course, in hopes of its ultimately leading

to some reservoir; but here I could encourage no such favourable

anticipation.

The only new object that struck our sight was a remarkable and distant

hill of conical shape, bearing by compass S. 10 E. To the southward and

westward, in the direction of D'Urban's Group, a dense and apparently

low brush extended; but to the N. and N.W., there was a regular

alternation of wood and plain. I left Mr. Hume upon the hill, that he

might the more readily notice any smoke made by the natives; and

returned myself to the camp about one o'clock, to move the party to the

swamp. Mr. Hume's perseverance was of little avail. The region he had

been overlooking was, to all appearance, uninhabited, nor did a single

fire indicate that there was even a solitary wanderer upon its surface.

EXCURSION TO D'URBAN'S GROUP.

Our situation, at this time, was extremely embarrassing, and the only

circumstance on which we had to congratulate ourselves was, the

improved condition of our men; for several of the cattle and horses

were in a sad plight. The weather had been so extremely oppressive,

that we had found it impossible to keep them free from eruptions. I

proposed to Mr. Hume, therefore, to give them a few days' rest, and to

make an excursion, with such of them as were serviceable, to D'Urban's

Group. We were both of us unwilling to return to the creek, but we

foresaw that a blind reliance upon fortune, in our next movements,

might involve us in inextricable difficulty.

On the other hand, there was a very great risk in delay. It was more

than probable, from the continued drought, that our retreat would be

cut off from the want of water, or that we should only be enabled to

effect our retreat with loss of most of the animals. The hope, however,

of our intersecting some stream, or of falling upon a better country,

prevailed over other considerations; and the excursion was,

consequently, determined upon.

DISTRESS FROM WANT OF WATER.

We left the camp on the 25th, accompanied by Hopkinson and the tinker;

and, almost immediately after, entered an acacia scrub of the most

sterile description, and one, through which it would have been

impossible to have found a passage for the boat carriage. The soil was

almost a pure sand, and the lower branches of the trees were decayed so

generally as to give the whole an indescribable appearance of

desolation. About mid-day, we crossed a light sandy plain, on which

there were some dirty puddles of water. They were so shallow as to

leave the backs of the frogs in them exposed, and they had, in

consequence, been destroyed by solar heat, and were in a state of

putrefaction. Our horses refused to drink, but it was evident that some

natives must have partaken of this sickening beverage only a few hours

before our arrival. Indeed, it was clear that a wandering family must

have slept near this spot, as we observed a fresh made gunneah (or

native hut), and their foot-prints were so fresh along the line we were

pursuing, that we momentarily expected to have overtaken them. It was

late in the evening when we got out of this brush into better and more

open ground, where, in ordinary seasons we should, no doubt, have found

abundance of water. But we now searched in vain for it, and were

contented to be enabled to give our wearied animals better food than

they had tasted for many days, the forest grass, though in tufts, being

abundant.

We brought up for the night at the edge of a scrub, having travelled

from thirty-two to thirty-five miles, judging the distance from the

mountains still to be about twelve.

BEARINGS FROM OXLEY'S TABLE LAND.

In the morning we started at an early hour, and immediately entered the

brush, beneath which we had slept; pursuing a westerly course through

it. After a short ride, we found ourselves upon a plain, that was

crowded with flocks of cockatoos. Here we got a supply of water, such

as it was--so mixed with slime as to hang in strings between the

fingers; and, after a hasty breakfast, we proceeded on our journey,

mostly through a barren sandy scrub that was a perfect burrow from the

number of wombats in it, to within a mile of the hill group, where the

country appeared like one continuous meadow to the very base of them. I

never saw anything like the luxuriance of the grass on this tract of

country, waving as it did higher than our horses' middles as we rode

through it. We ascended the S.W. face of the mountain to an elevation

of at least 800 feet above the level of the plain, and had some

difficulty in scaling the masses of rock that opposed themselves to our

progress. But on gaining the summit, we were amply repaid for our

trouble. The view extended far and wide, but we were again disappointed

in the main object that had induced us to undertake the journey. I took

the following bearings by compass. Oxley's Table Land bore N. 40 E.

distant forty-five miles; small and distant hill due E.; conical peak

seen from Oxley's Table Land S. 60 E., very distant; long ridge of high

land, S.E., distant thirty-five miles; high land, S. 30 E., distant

thirty miles; long range, S. 25 W.

To the westward, as a medium point, the horizon was unbroken, and the

eye wandered over an apparently endless succession of wood and plain. A

brighter green than usual marked the course of the mountain torrents in

several places, but there was no glittering light among the trees, no

smoke to betray a water hole, or to tell that a single inhabitant was

traversing the extensive region we were overlooking. We were obliged to

return to the plain on which we had breakfasted, and to sleep upon it.

D'URBAN'S GROUP.

D'Urban's Group is of compact sandstone formation. Its extreme length

is from E.S.E. to W.N.W., and cannot be more than from seven to nine

miles, whilst its breadth is from two to four. The central space forms

a large basin, in which there are stunted pines and eucalyptus scrub,

amid huge fragments of rocks. It rises like an island from the midst of

the ocean, and as I looked upon it from the plains below, I could

without any great stretch of the imagination, picture to myself that it

really was such. Bold and precipitous, it only wanted the sea to lave

its base; and I cannot but think that such must at no very remote

period have been the case, and that the immense flat we had been

traversing, is of comparatively recent formation.

We reached the camp on the 28th of the month, by nearly the same route;

and were happy to find that, after the few days' rest they had enjoyed,

there was a considerable improvement in the animals.

Our experience of the nature of the country to the southward, and the

westward, was such as to deter us from risking anything, by taking such

a direction as was most agreeable to our views. Nothing remained to us

but to follow the creek, or to retreat; and as we could only be induced

to adopt the last measure when every other expedient should have

failed, we determined on pursuing our original plan, of tracing New

Year's Creek as far as practicable.

DESCRIPTION OF OXLEY'S TABLE LAND.

Oxley's Table Land is situated in lat. 29 degrees 57 minutes 30

seconds, and in E. long. 145 degrees 43 minutes 30 seconds, the mean

variation being 6.32 easterly. It consists of two hills that appear to

have been rent asunder by some convulsion of nature, since the passage

between them is narrow and their inner faces are equally perpendicular.

The hill which I have named after the late Surveyor-general, is steep

on all sides; but the other gradually declines from the south, and at

length loses itself in a large plain that extends to the north. It is

from four to five miles in length, and is picturesque in appearance,

and lightly wooded. A few cypresses were growing on Oxley's Table Land;

but it had, otherwise, very little timber upon its summit. Both hills

are of sandstone formation, and there are some hollows upon the last

that deserve particular notice. They have the appearance of having been

formed by eddies of water, being deeper in the centre than at any other

part, and contain fragments and slabs of sandstone of various size and

breadth, without a particle of soil or of sand between them. It is to

be observed that the edges of these slabs, which were perfect

parallelograms, were unbroken, and that they were as clean as if they

had only just been turned out of the hand of the mason. We counted

thirteen of these hollows in one spot about twenty-five feet in

diameter, but they are without doubt of periodical formation, since a

single hollow was observed lower than the summit of the hill upon its

south extremity, that had evidently long been exposed to the action of

the atmosphere, and had a general coating of moss over it.

CONTINUE THE JOURNEY; DOWN NEW YEAR'S CREEK.

We left Oxley's Table Land on the morning of the 31st of January,

pursuing a northern course through the brush and across a large plain,

moving parallel to the smaller hill, and keeping it upon our left. The

soil upon this plain differed in character from that on the plains to

the eastward, and was much freer from sand. We stopped to dine at a

spot, whence Oxley's Table Land bore by compass, S. by W., distant

about twelve miles. Continuing our journey, at 2 p.m. we cleared the

plain, and entered a tract covered with the polygonum junceum, on a

soil evidently the deposit of floods. Box-trees were thinly scattered

over it, and among the polygonum, the crested pigeons were numerous.

These general appearances, together with a dip of country to the

N.N.W., made us conclude that we were approaching the creek, and we

accordingly intersected it on a N.N.E. course, at about three miles'

distance from where we had dined. It had, however, undergone so

complete a change, and had increased so much in size and in the height

of its banks, that we were at a loss to recognize it. Still, with all

these favourable symptoms, there was not a drop of water in it. But

small shells lay in heaps in its bed, or were abundantly scattered over

it; and we remarked that they differed from those on the plains of the

Macquarie. A circumstance that surprised us much, was the re-appearance

of the flooded-gum upon its banks, and that too of a large size. We had

not seen any to the westward of the marshes, and we were, consequently,

led to indulge in more sanguine expectation as to our ultimate success

than we had ever ventured to do before.

The party crossed to the right bank of the creek, and then moved in a

westerly direction along it in search of water. A brush extended to our

right, and some broken stony ground, rather elevated, was visible, to

which Mr. Hume rode; nor did he join me again until after I had halted

the party for the night.

DISTRESSED FOR WATER.

My search for water had been unsuccessful, and the sun had set, when I

came upon a broad part of the creek that appeared very favourable for

an encampment, as it was encompassed by high banks, and would afford

the men a greater facility of watching the cattle, that I knew would

stray away if they could.

My anxiety for them led me to wander down the bed of the creek, when,

to my joy, I found a pond of water within a hundred yards of the tents.

It is impossible for me to describe the relief I felt at this success,

or the gladness it spread among the men. Mr. Hume joined me at dusk,

and informed me that he had made a circuit, and had struck upon the

creek about three miles below us but that, in tracing it up, he had not

found a drop of water until he came to the pond near which we had so

providentially encamped. On the following morning, we held a westerly

course over an open country for about eight miles and a half. The

prevailing timber appeared to be a species of eucalypti, with rough

bark, of small size, and evidently languishing from the want of

moisture. The soil over which we travelled was far from bad, but there

was a total absence of water upon it. At 6 p.m. Oxley's Table Land was

distant from us about fifteen miles, bearing S. 20 E. by compass.

We had not touched upon the creek from the time we left it in the

morning, having wandered from it in a northerly direction, along a

native path that we intersected, and that seemed to have been recently

trodden, since footsteps were fresh upon it. At sunset, we crossed a

broad dry creek that puzzled us extremely, and were shortly afterwards

obliged to stop for the night upon a plain beyond it. We had, during

the afternoon, bent down to the S.W. in hopes that we should again have

struck upon New Year's Creek; and, under an impression that we could

not be far from it, Mr. Hume and I walked across the plain, to

ascertain if it was sufficiently near to be of any service to us. We

came upon a creek, but could not decide whether it was the one for

which we had been searching, or another.

Its bed was so perfectly even that it was impossible to say to what

point it flowed, more especially as all remains of debris had mouldered

away. It was, however, extremely broad, and evidently, at times, held a

furious torrent. In the centre of it, at one of the angles, we

discovered a pole erected, and at first thought, from the manner in

which it was propped up, that some unfortunate European must have

placed it there as a mark to tell of his wanderings, but we afterwards

concluded that it might be some superstitious rite of the natives, in

consequence of the untowardness of the season, as it seemed almost

inconceivable that an European could have wandered to such a distance

from the located districts in safety.

REACH A LARGE RIVER.

The creek had flooded-gum growing upon its banks, and, on places

apparently subject to flood, a number of tall straight saplings were

observed by us. We returned to the camp, after a vain search for water,

and were really at a loss what direction next to pursue. The men kept

the cattle pretty well together, and, as we were not delayed by any

preparations for breakfast, they were saddled and loaded at an early

hour. The circumstance of there having been natives in the

neighbourhood, of whom we had seen so few traces of late, assured me

that water was at hand, but in what direction it was impossible to

guess. As the path we had observed was leading northerly, we took up

that course, and had not proceeded more than a mile upon it, when we

suddenly found ourselves on the banks of a noble river. Such it might

in truth be called, where water was scarcely to be found. The party

drew up upon a bank that was from forty to forty-five feet above the

level of the stream. The channel of the river was front seventy to

eighty yards broad, and enclosed an unbroken sheet of water, evidently

very deep, and literally covered with pelicans and other wild fowl. Our

surprise and delight may better be imagined than described. Our

difficulties seemed to be at an end, for here was a river that promised

to reward all our exertions, and which appeared every moment to

increase in importance to our imagination. Coming from the N.E., and

flowing to the S.W., it had a capacity of channel that proved that we

were as far from its source as from its termination. The paths of the

natives on either side of it were like well trodden roads; and the

trees that overhung it were of beautiful and gigantic growth.

DISAPPOINTMENT ON FINDING THE RIVER SALT.

Its banks were too precipitous to allow of our watering the cattle, but

the men eagerly descended to quench their thirst, which a powerful sun

had contributed to increase; nor shall I ever forget the cry of

amazement that followed their doing so, or the looks of terror and

disappointment with which they called out to inform me that the water

was so salt as to be unfit to drink! This was, indeed, too true: on

tasting it, I found it extremely nauseous, and strongly impregnated

with salt, being apparently a mixture of sea and fresh water. Whence

this arose, whether from local causes, or from a communication with

some inland sea, I knew not, but the discovery was certainly a blow for

which I was not prepared. Our hopes were annihilated at the moment of

their apparent realization. The cup of joy was dashed out of our hands

before we had time to raise it to our lips. Notwithstanding this

disappointment, we proceeded down the river, and halted at about five

miles, being influenced by the goodness of the feed to provide for the

cattle as well as circumstances would permit. They would not drink of

the river water, but stood covered in it for many hours, having their

noses alone exposed above the stream. Their condition gave me great

uneasiness. It was evident they could not long hold out under their

excessive thirst, and unless we should procure some fresh water, it

would impossible for us to continue our journey. On a closer

examination, the river appeared to me much below its ordinary level,

and its current was scarcely perceptible. We placed sticks to ascertain

if there was a rise or fall of tide, but could arrive at no

satisfactory conclusion, although there was undoubtedly a current in

it. Yet, as I stood upon its banks at sunset, when not a breath of air

existed to break the stillness of the waters below me, and saw their

surface kept in constant agitation by the leaping of fish, I doubted

whether the river could supply itself so abundantly, and the rather

imagined, that it owed such abundance, which the pelicans seemed to

indicate was constant, to some mediterranean sea or other. Where,

however, were the human inhabitants of this distant and singular

region? The signs of a numerous population were around us, but we had

not seen even a solitary wanderer. The water of the river was not, by

any means, so salt as that of the ocean, but its taste was precisely

similar. Could it be that its unnatural state had driven its

inhabitants from its banks?

One would have imagined that our perplexities would have been

sufficient for one day, but ere night closed, they increased upon us,

although our anxiety, with regard to the cattle, was happily removed.

Mr. Hume with his usual perseverance, walked out when the camp was

formed; and, at a little distance from it, ascended a ridge of pure

sand, crowned with cypresses. From this, he descended to the westward,

and, at length, struck upon the river, where a reef of rocks creased

its channel, and formed a dry passage from one side to the other; but

the bend, which the river must have taken, appeared to him so singular,

that he doubted whether it was the same beside which we had been

travelling during the day. Curiosity led him to cross it, when he found

a small pond of fresh water on a tongue of land, and, immediately

afterwards, returned to acquaint me with the welcome tidings. It was

too late to move, but we had, at least, the prospect of a comfortable

breakfast in the morning.

JUNCTION OF NEW YEAR'S CREEK.

In consequence of the doubts that hung upon Mr. Hume's mind, as to the

course of the river, we arranged that the animals should precede us to

the fresh water; and that we should keep close in upon the stream, to

ascertain that point. After traversing a deep bight, we arrived nearly

as soon as the party, at the appointed rendezvous. The rocks composing

the channel of the river at the crossing place, were of indurated clay.

In the course of an hour, the animals appearing quite refreshed, we

proceeded on our journey, and at about four miles crossed New Year's

Creek, at its junction with the salt river. We passed several parts of

the main channel that were perfectly dry, and were altogether at a loss

to account for the current we undoubtedly had observed in the river

when we first came upon it. At midday D'Urban's Group bore S. 65 E.

distant about 32 miles. We made a little westing in the afternoon. The

river continued to maintain its character and appearance, its lofty

banks, and its long still reaches: while, however, the blue-gum trees

upon its banks were of magnificent size, the soil had but little

vegetation upon it, although an alluvial deposit.

We passed over vast spaces covered with the polygonum junceum, that

bore all the appearance of the flooded tracks in the neighbourhood of

the marshes, and on which the travelling was equally distressing to the

animals. Indeed, it had been sufficiently evident to us that the waters

of this river were not always confined to its channel, capacious as it

was, but that they inundated a belt of barren land, that varied in

width from a quarter of a mile to a mile, when they were checked by an

outer embankment that prevented them from spreading generally over the

country, and upon the neighbouring plains. At our halting place, the

cattle drank sparingly of the water, but it acted as a violent

purgative both on them and the men who partook of it.

NATIVE VILLAGE.

On the 5th, the river led us to the southward and westward. Early in

the day, we passed a group of seventy huts, capable of holding from

twelve to fifteen men each. They appeared to be permanent habitations,

and all of them fronted the same point of the compass. In searching

amongst them we observed two beautifully made nets, of about ninety

yards in length. The one had much larger meshes than the other, and

was, most probably, intended to take kangaroos; but the other was

evidently a fishing net.

In one hut, the floor of which was swept with particular care, a number

of white balls, as of pulverised shells or lime, had been

deposited--the use of which we could not divine. A trench was formed

round the hut to prevent the rain from running under it, and the whole

was arranged with more than ordinary attention.

TERROR OF THE NATIVES.

We had not proceeded very far when we came suddenly upon the tribe to

which this village, as it might be called, belonged.

In breaking through some brush to an open space that was bounded on one

side by the river, we observed three or four natives, seated on a bank

at a considerable distance from us; and directly in the line on which

we were moving. The nature of the ground so completely favoured our

approach, that they did not become aware of it until we were within a

few yards of them, and had ascended a little ridge, which, as we

afterwards discovered, ended in an abrupt precipice upon the river, not

more than thirty yards to our right. The crack of the drayman's whip

was the first thing that aroused their attention. They gazed upon us

for a moment, and then started up and assumed an attitude of horror and

amazement; their terror apparently increasing upon them. We stood

perfectly immovable, until at length they gave a fearful yell, and

darted out of sight.

THEY FIRE THE BUSH.

Their cry brought about a dozen more natives from the river, whom we

had not before observed, but who now ran after their comrades with

surprising activity, and without once venturing to look behind them. As

our position was a good one, we determined to remain upon it, until we

should ascertain the number and disposition of the natives. We had not

been long stationary, when we heard a crackling noise in the distance,

and it soon became evident that the bush had been fired. It was,

however, impossible that we could receive any injury on the narrow

ridge upon which we stood, so that we waited very patiently to see the

end of this affair.

REMARKS ON THE NATIVES; DISEASE AMONG THEM.

In a short time the fire approached pretty near to us, and dense

columns of smoke rose into the air over our heads. One of the natives,

who had been on the bank, now came out of the bush, exactly from the

spot into which he had retreated. He advanced a few paces towards us,

and bending his body so that his hands rested on his knees, he fixed

his gaze upon us for some time; but, seeing that we remained immovable,

he began to throw himself into the most extravagant attitudes, shaking

his foot from time to time. When he found that all his violence had no

effect, he turned his rear to us in a most laughable manner, and

absolutely groaned in spirit when he found that this last insult failed

of success.

He stood perplexed and not knowing what next to do, which gave Mr. Hume

an opportunity to call out to him, and with considerable address he at

length got the savage to approach close up to him; Mr. Hume himself

having advanced a short distance from the animals in the first

instance. As soon as I thought the savage had sufficiently recovered

from his alarm, I went up to him with a tomahawk, the use of which he

immediately guessed. We now observed that the natives who had fled from

the river, had been employed in setting a net. They had placed it in a

semicircle, with either end to the shore, and rude pieces of wood were

attached to it to keep the upper part perpendicular. It was in fact a

sein, only that the materials, with the exception of the net-work, were

simpler and rougher than cork or lead--for which last, we afterwards

discovered stones had been substituted.

We had on this occasion a remarkable instance of the docility of the

natives of the interior, or of the power they have of subduing their

apprehensions; manifesting the opposite extremes of fear and

confidence. These men whom we had thus surprised, and who, no doubt,

imagined that we were about to destroy them, having apparently never

seen nor heard of white men before, must have taken us for something

preternatural; yet from the extremity of fear that had prompted them to

set their woods in flames, they in a brief space so completely subdued

those fears as to approach the very beings who had so strongly excited

their alarm. The savage who had been the principal actor in the scene,

was an elderly man, rather descending to the vale of years than what

might be strictly called aged. I know not how it was, but I regarded

him with peculiar interest. Mr. Hume's manners had in a great measure

contributed to allay his evident agitation; but, from the moment I

approached him, I thought there was a shade of anxiety upon his brow,

and an expression of sorrow over his features, the cause of which did

not originate with us. I could see in a moment, that his bosom was full

even to bursting, and he seemed to claim at once our sympathy and our

protection, although we were ignorant of that which oppressed him. We

had not long been seated together, when some of his tribe mustered

sufficient courage to join him. Both Mr. Hume and I were desirous of

seeing the net drawn, but the old man raised some objection, by

pointing to the heavens and towards the sun. After a little more

solicitation, however, he gave a whistle, and, four or five natives

having obeyed the summons, he directed them to draw the net, but they

were unfortunate, and our wish to ascertain the kind of fish contained

in the river was disappointed. As his tribe gathered round him, the old

chief threw a melancholy glance upon them, and endeavoured, as much as

he could, to explain the cause of that affliction which, as I had

rightly judged, weighed heavily upon him. It appeared, then, that a

violent cutaneous disease raged throughout the tribe, that was sweeping

them off in great numbers. He called several young men to Mr. Hume and

myself, who had been attacked by this singular malady. Nothing could

exceed the anxiety of his explanations, or the mild and soothing tone

in which he addressed his people, and it really pained me that I could

not assist him in his distress. We now discovered the use to which the

conical substance that had been deposited with such unusual care in one

of the huts, was applied. There were few of the natives present who

were not more or less marked with it, and it was no doubt, indicative

of mourning.

DEPARTURE OF THE NATIVES.

Some of the men, however, were painted with red and yellow ochre, with

which it was evident to me they had besmeared themselves since our

appearance, most likely in preparing for the combat in which they

fancied they would be engaged. We distributed such presents as we had

to those around us, and when we pursued our journey, the majority

accompanied us, nor did they wholly leave us until we had passed the

place to which their women had retired. They might have left us when

they pleased, for we intended them no harm; as it was, however, they

struck into the brushes to join their families, and we pushed on to

make up for lost time.

The travelling near the river had been so bad, not only in consequence

of the nature of the soil and brush, but from the numerous gullies that

had been formed by torrents, as they poured into its channel after

heavy rains and floods, that it was thought advisable to keep at a

greater distance from it. We turned away, therefore, to the plains, and

found them of much firmer surface. They partook, however, of the same

general character as the plains we had traversed more to the eastward.

Their soil was a light sandy loam, and the same succulent plants still

continued to prevail upon them, which we have already noticed as

existing upon the other plains. Both emus and kangaroos were seen,

though not in any considerable numbers, but our dogs were not in a

condition to run, and were all but killed by the extreme heat of the

weather. We had fallen on a small pool of water shortly after we

started in the morning, but we could do no more than refresh ourselves

and the animals at it. In the afternoon, we again turned towards the

river, and found it unaltered. Its water was still salt, and from the

increased number of wild fowl and pelicans upon it, as well as from the

general flatness of the country, I certainly thought we were rapidly

approaching some inland sea. It was, however, uncertain how long we

should be enabled to continue on the river. The animals were all of

them extremely weak, and every day increased the probable difficulty of

our return. There was not the least appearance of a break-up of the

drought, the heavens were without a cloud, and the atmosphere was so

clear that the outline of the moon could be distinctly seen, although

she was far in her wane.

BRINE SPRINGS IN THE RIVER.

On the 6th, we journeyed again through a barren scrub, although on

firmer ground, and passed numerous groups of huts. At about eight miles

from our last encampment, we came upon the river, where its banks were

of considerable height. In riding along them, Mr. Hume thought he

observed a current running, and he called to inform me of the

circumstance. On a closer examination, we discovered some springs in

the very bed of the river, from which a considerable stream was

gushing, and from the incrustation around them, we had no difficulty in

guessing at their nature: in fact, they were brine springs, and I

collected a quantity of salt from the brink of them.

DISTRESS FOR WANT OF FRESH WATER.

After such a discovery, we could not hope to keep our position. No

doubt the current we had observed on first reaching the river, was

caused by springs that had either escaped our notice or were under

water. Here was at length a local cause for its saltness that destroyed

at once the anticipation and hope of our being near its termination,

and, consequently, the ardour with which we should have pressed on to

decide so interesting a point.

Our retreat would have been a measure of absolute necessity ere this,

had we not found occasional supplies of fresh water, the last pond of

which was now about eighteen miles behind us.

OUR COURSE ARRESTED.

Whether we should again find any, was a doubtful question, and I

hesitated to run the risk. The animals were already, from bad food, and

from the effects of the river water, so weak, that they could scarcely

carry their loads, and I was aware, if any of the bullocks once fell,

he would never rise again. Under such circumstances, I thought it

better to halt the party at the edge of the scrub, though the feed was

poor, and the water not drinkable. Our situation required most serious

consideration. It was necessary that we should move either backward or

forward in the morning. Yet we could not adopt either measure with

satisfaction to ourselves, under such unfavorable circumstances. I

determined to relieve my own mind by getting the animals into a place

of safety, as soon as possible; and, as the only effectual way of doing

this was to retire upon the nearest fresh water, I resolved at once to

do so. The party turned back on the morning of the 6th; nor do I think

the cattle would ever have reached their destination had we not found a

few buckets of rain water in the cleft of a rock, to refresh them. Thus

it will appear that under our most trying circumstances, we received

aid from Providence, and that the bounty of Heaven was extended towards

us, when we had least reason to expect it.

Notwithstanding we had been thus forced to a partial retreat, both Mr.

Hume and myself were unwilling to quit the pursuit of the river, in so

unsatisfactory a manner. There was no difference in the appearance of

the country to the westward of it; but a seeming interminable flat

stretched away in that direction. A journey across it was not likely,

therefore, to be attended with any favorable results, since it was

improbable that any other leading feature was within our reach. I

proposed, therefore, to take the most serviceable of the horses with me

down the river, that, in the event of our finding fresh water, we might

again push forward. Mr. Hume requesting to be permitted to accompany

me, it was arranged that we should start on the 8th, thereby giving the

animals a day's rest. We had not seen any natives since our parting

with the chief horde; and as we were stationed at some little distance

from the river, I hoped that they would not visit the camp during my

absence. This was the only circumstance that gave me uneasiness, but

the men had generally been behaving so well that I relied a great deal

upon them.

EXTRAORDINARY SOUND.

About 3 p.m. on the 7th, Mr. Hume and I were occupied tracing the chart

upon the ground. The day had been remarkably fine, not a cloud was

there in the heavens, nor a breath of air to be felt. On a sudden we

heard what seemed to be the report of a gun fired at the distance of

between five and six miles. It was not the hollow sound of an earthly

explosion, or the sharp cracking noise of falling timber, but in every

way resembled a discharge of a heavy piece of ordnance. On this all

were agreed, but no one was certain whence the sound proceeded. Both

Mr. Hume and myself had been too attentive to our occupation to form a

satisfactory opinion; but we both thought it came from the N.W. I sent

one of the men immediately up a tree, but he could observe nothing

unusual. The country around him appeared to be equally flat on all

sides, and to be thickly wooded: whatever occasioned the report, it

made a strong impression on all of us; and to this day, the singularity

of such a sound, in such a situation, is a matter of mystery to me.

FURTHER ATTEMPT TO EXPLORE THE RIVER.

On the 8th, we commenced our journey down the river, accompanied by two

men, and a pack-horse, carrying our provisions on one side and a bucket

of water on the other. Keeping in general near the stream, but making

occasional turns into the plains, we got to the brush from which the

party had turned back, about 3 p.m. Passing through, we crossed a small

plain, of better soil and vegetation than usual; but it soon gave place

to the sandy loam of the interior; nor did we observe any material

alteration, either in the country or the river, as we rode along. The

flooded-gum trees on the banks of the latter, were of beautiful growth,

but in the brushes dividing the plains, box and other eucalypti, with

cypresses and many minor shrubs, prevailed. We slept on the river side,

and calculated our distance from the camp at about twenty-six or

twenty-eight miles.

The horses would not drink the river water, so that we were obliged to

give them a pint each from our own supply. On the following morning we

continued our journey. The country was generally open to the eastward,

and we had fine views of D'Urban's Group, distant from twenty to

twenty-five miles. About noon, turning towards the river to rest, both

ourselves and the horses, we passed through brush land for about a mile

and a half. When we came upon its banks, we found them composed of a

red loam with sandy superficies. We had, in the course of the day,

crossed several creeks, but in none of them could we find water,

although their channels were of great depth.

The day had been extremely warm, and from shaking in the barrel our

supply of water had diminished to a little more than a pint; it

consequently became a matter of serious consideration, how far it would

be prudent to proceed farther; for, however capable we were of bearing

additional fatigue, it was evident our animals would soon fail, since

they trembled exceedingly, and had the look of total exhaustion. We

calculated that we were forty miles from the camp, in a S.W. direction,

a fearful distance under our circumstances, since we could not hope to

obtain relief for two days. Independently however, of the state of the

animals, our spirits were damped by the nature of the country, and the

change which had taken place on the soil, upon which it was impossible

that water could rest; while the general appearance of the interior

showed how much it had suffered from drought. On the other hand,

although the waters of the river had become worse to the taste, the

river itself had increased in size, and stretched away to the westward,

with all the uniformity of a magnificent canal, and gave every promise

of increasing importance; while the pelicans were in such numbers upon

it as to be quite dazzling to the eye. Considering, however, that

perseverance would only involve us in inextricable difficulties, and

that it would also be useless to risk the horses, since we had gained a

distance to which the bullocks could not have been brought, I intimated

my intention of giving up the further pursuit of the river, though it

was with extreme reluctance that I did so.

CALLED IT THE "DARLING".

As soon as we had bathed and finished our scanty meal, I took the

bearings of D'Urban's Group, and found them to be S. 58 E. about

thirty-three miles distant; and as we mounted our horses, I named the

river the "Darling," as a lasting memorial of the respect I bear the

governor.

ABANDON THE ATTEMPT.

I should be doing injustice to Mr. Hume and my men, if I did not

express my conviction that they were extremely unwilling to yield to

circumstances, and that, had I determined on continuing the journey,

they would have followed me with cheerfulness, whatever the

consequences might have been.

Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia — Volume I · 第 2 / 6 章