Commencement of the expedition in November, 1829.--Joined by Mr. George
M'Leay--Appearance of the party--Breadalbane Plains--Hospitality of Mr.
O'Brien--Yass Plains--Hill of Pouni--Path of a hurricane--Character of the
country between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee--Appearance of that river--
Junction of the Dumot with it--Crossing and recrossing--Geological
character and general aspect of the country--Plain of Pondebadgery--Few
natives seen.
The expedition which traversed the marshes of the Macquarie, left Sydney
on the 10th day of Nov. 1828. That destined to follow the waters of the
Morumbidgee, took its departure from the same capital on the 3rd of the
same month in the ensuing year. Rain had fallen in the interval, but not
in such quantities as to lead to the apprehension that it had either
influenced or swollen the western streams. It was rather expected that the
winter falls would facilitate the progress of the expedition, and it was
hoped that, as the field of its operations would in all probability be
considerably to the south of the parallel of Port Jackson, the extreme
heat to which the party and the animals had been exposed on the former
journey, would be less felt on the present occasion.
As there was no Government establishment to the S.W. at which I could
effect any repairs, or recruit my supplies, as I had done at Wellington
Valley, the expedition, when it left Sydney, was completed in every
branch, and was so fully provided with every necessary implement and
comfort, as to render any further aid, even had such been attainable, in a
great measure unnecessary. The Governor had watched over my preparations
with a degree of anxiety that evidenced the interest he felt in the
expedition, and his arrangements to ensure, as far as practicable, our
being met on our return, in the event of our being in distress, were
equally provident and satisfactory. It was not, however, to the providing
for our wants in the interior alone that His Excellency's views were
directed, but orders were given to hold a vessel in readiness, to be
dispatched at a given time to St. Vincent's Gulf, in case we should
ultimately succeed in making the south coast in its neighbourhood.
LEAVE SYDNEY.
The morning on which I left Sydney a second time, under such doubtful
circumstances, was perfectly serene and clear. I found myself at 5 a.m. of
that delightful morning leading my horses through the gates of those
barracks whose precincts I might never again enter, and whose inmates I
might never again behold assembled in military array. Yet, although the
chance of misfortune flashed across my mind, I was never lighter at heart,
or more joyous in spirit. It appeared to me that the stillness and harmony
of nature influenced my feelings on the occasion, and my mind forgot the
storms of life, as nature at that moment seemed to have forgotten the
tempests that sometimes agitate her.
APPEARANCE OF THE PARTY.
I proceeded direct to the house of my friend Mr. J. Deas Thomson, who had
agreed to accompany me to Brownlow Hill, a property belonging to
Mr. M'Leay, the Colonial Secretary, where his son, Mr. George M'Leay, was
to join the expedition. As soon as we had taken a hasty breakfast, I went
to the carters' barracks to superintend the first loading of the animals.
Mr. Murray, the superintendent, had arranged every article so well, and
had loaded the drays so compactly that I had no trouble, and little time
was lost in saddling the pack animals. At a quarter before 7 the party
filed through the turnpike-gate, and thus commenced its journey with the
greatest regularity. I have the scene, even at this distance of time,
vividly impressed upon my mind, and I have no doubt the kind friend who
was near me on the occasion, bears it as strongly on his recollection.
My servant Harris, who had shared my wanderings and had continued in my
service for eighteen years, led the advance, with his companion Hopkinson.
Nearly abreast of them the eccentric Fraser stalked along wholly lost in
thought. The two former had laid aside their military habits, and had
substituted the broad brimmed hat and the bushman's dress in their place,
but it was impossible to guess how Fraser intended to protect himself from
the heat or the damp, so little were his habiliments suited for the
occasion. He had his gun over his shoulder, and his double shot belt as
full as it could be of shot, although there was not a chance of his
expending a grain during the day. Some dogs Mr. Maxwell had kindly sent me
followed close at his heels, as if they knew his interest in them, and
they really seemed as if they were aware that they were about to exchange
their late confinement for the freedom of the woods. The whole of these
formed a kind of advanced guard. At some distance in the rear the drays
moved slowly along, on one of which rode the black boy mentioned in my
former volume, and behind them followed the pack animals. Robert Harris,
whom I had appointed to superintend the animals generally, kept his place
near the horses, and the heavy Clayton, my carpenter, brought up the rear.
I shall not forget the interest Thomson appeared to take in a scene that
must certainly have been new to him. Our progress was not checked by the
occurrence of a single accident, nor did I think it necessary to remain
with the men after we had gained that turn which, at about four miles from
Sydney, branches off to the left, and leads direct to Liverpool. From this
Point my companion and I pushed forward, in order to terminate a fifty
miles' ride a little sooner than we should have done at the leisurely pace
we had kept during the early part of our journey. We remained in Liverpool
for a short time, to prepare the commissariat office for the reception,
and to ensure the accommodation, of the party; and reached Brownlow Hill
a little after sunset.
LIVERPOOL-GOULBURN PLAINS.
As I have already described the country on this line of road as far us
Goulburn Plains, it will not be considered necessary that I should again
notice its features with minuteness.
WALLANDILLY-TYRANNA.
The party arrived at Glendarewel, the farm attached to Brownlow Hill, on
the 5th. I resumed my journey alone on the 8th. M'Leay had still some few
arrangements to make, so that I dispensed with his immediate attendance.
He overtook me, however, sooner than I expected, on the banks of the
Wallandilly. I had encamped under the bluff end of Cookbundoon, and,
having been disappointed in getting bearings when crossing the Razor Back,
I hoped that I should be enabled to connect a triangle from the summit
of Cookbundoon, or to secure bearings of some prominent hill to the south.
I found the brush, however, so thick on the top of the mountain, that I
could obtain no satisfactory view, and and M'Leay, who accompanied me,
agreed with me in considering that we were but ill repaid for the hot
scramble we had had. Crossing the western extremity of Goulburn Plains on
the 15th, we encamped on a chain of ponds behind Doctor Gibson's residence
at Tyranna, and as I had some arrangements to make with that gentleman,
I determined to give both the men and animals a day's rest. I availed
myself of Doctor Gibson's magazines to replace such of my provisions as I
had expended, as I found that I could do so without putting him to any
inconvenience; and I added two of his men to the party, intending to send
them back, in case of necessity, or, when we should have arrived at that
point from which it might appear expedient to forward an account of my
progress and ultimate views, for the governor's information.
On the 17th we struck the tents, and, crossing the chain of ponds near
which they had been pitched, entered a forest track, that gave place to
barren stony ridges of quartz formation. These continued for six or seven
miles, in the direction of Breadalbane Plains, upon which we were obliged
to stop, as we should have had some difficulty in procuring either water
or food, within any moderate distance beyond them. The water, indeed, that
we were obliged to content ourselves with was by no means good.
Breadalbane Plains are of inconsiderable extent, and are surrounded by
ridges, the appearance of which is not very promising. Large white masses
of quartz rock lie scattered over them, amongst trees of stunted growth.
Mr. Redall's farm was visible at the further extremity of the plains from
that by which we had entered them. It would appear that these plains are
connected with Goulburn Plains by a narrow valley, that was too wet for
the drays to have traversed.
BREADALBANE PLAINS.
Doctor Gibson had kindly accompanied us to Breadalbane Plains. On the
morning of the 18th he returned to Tyranna, and we pursued our journey,
keeping mostly on a W.S.W. course. From the barren hills over which we
passed, on leaving the plains, we descended upon an undulating country,
and found a change of rock, as well as of vegetation, upon it. Granite and
porphyry constituted its base. An open forest, on which the eucalyptus
mannifera alone prevailed, lay on either side of us, and although the soil
was coarse, and partook in a great measure of the decomposition of the
rock it covered, there was no deficiency of grass. On the contrary, this
part of the interior is decidedly well adapted for pasturing cattle.
THE LORN.
About 1 p.m. we passed Mr. Hume's station, with whom I remained for a
short time. He had fixed his establishment on the banks of the Lorn, a
small river, issuing from the broken country near Lake George, and now
ascertained to be one of the largest branches of the Lachlan River. We had
descended a barren pass of stringy bark scrub, on sandstone rock, a little
before we reached Mr. Hume's station, but around it the same, open forest
tract again prevailed. We crossed the Lorn, at 2 o'clock, leaving
Mr. Broughton's farm upon our left, and passed through a broken country,
which was very far from being deficient in pasture. We encamped on the
side of a water-course, about 4 o'clock, having travelled about fifteen
miles.
On the 19th, we observed no change in the soil or aspect of the country,
for the first five miles. The eucalyptus mannifera was the most prevalent
of the forest trees, and certainly its presence indicated a more
flourishing state in the minor vegetation. At about five miles, however,
from where we had slept, sandstone reappeared, and with it the barren
scrub that usually grows upon a sandy and inhospitable soil. One of the
drays was upset in its progress down a broken pass, where the road had
been altogether neglected, and it was difficult to avoid accidents.
Fortunately we suffered no further than in the delay that the necessity of
unloading the dray, and reloading it, occasioned. Mr. O'Brien, an
enterprising settler, who had pushed his flocks to the banks of the
Morumbidgee, and who was proceeding to visit his several stations,
overtook us in the midst of our troubles. We had already passed each other
frequently on the road, but he now preceded me to his establishment at
Yass; at which I proposed remaining for a day. We stopped about three
miles short of the plains for the night, at the gorge of the pass through
which we had latterly been advancing, and had gradually descended to a
more open country. From the place at which we were temporarily delayed,
and which is not inappropriately called the Devil's Pass, the road winds
about between ranges, differing in every respect from any we had as yet
noticed. The sides of the hills were steeper, and their summits sharper,
than any we had crossed. They were thickly covered with eucalypti and
brush, and, though based upon sandstone, were themselves of a schistose
formation.
YASS PLAINS.
Yharr or Yass Plains were discovered by Mr. Hovel, and Mr. Hume, the
companion of my journey down the Macquarie, in 1828. They take their name
from the little river that flows along their north and north-west
boundaries. They are surrounded on every side by forests, and excepting to
the W.N.W., as a central point, by hill. Undulating, but naked themselves,
they have the appearance of open downs, and are most admirably adapted for
sheep-walks, not only in point of vegetation, but also, because their
inequalities prevent their becoming swampy during the rainy season. They
are from nine to twelve miles in length, and from five to seven in breadth,
and although large masses of sandstone are scattered over them, a blue
secondary limestone composes the general bed of the river, that was darker
in colour and more compact than I had remarked the same kind of rock,
either at Wellington Valley, or in the Shoal Haven Gully. I have no doubt
that Yass Plains will ere long be wholly taken up as sheep-walks, and that
their value to the grazier will in a great measure counterbalance its
distance from the coast, or, more properly speaking, from the capital.
Sheep I should imagine would thrive uncommonly well upon these plains,
and would suffer less from distempers incidental to locality and to
climate, than in many parts of the colony over which they are now
wandering in thousands. And if the plains themselves do not afford
extensive arable tracts, there is, at least, sufficient good land near the
river to supply the wants of a numerous body of settlers.
HOSPITALITY OF MR. O'BRIEN.
We left Mr. O'Brien's station on the morning of the 21st, and, agreeably
to his advice, determined on gaining the Morumbidgee, by a circuit to the
N.W., rather than endanger the safety of the drays by entering the
mountain passes to the westward. Mr. O'Brien, however, would not permit us
to depart from his dwelling without taking away with us some further
proofs of his hospitality. The party had pushed forward before I, or
Mr. M'Leay, had mounted our horses; but on overtaking it, we found that
eight fine wethers had been added to our stock of animals.
HILL OF POUNI; ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY.
To the W.N.W. of Yass Plains there is a remarkable hill, called Pouni,
remarkable not so much on account of its height, as of its commanding
position. It had, I believe, already been ascended by one of the
Surveyor-general's assistants. The impracticability of the country to the
south of it, obliged us to pass under its opposite base, from which an
open forest country extended to the northward. We had already recrossed
the Yass River, and passed Mr. Barber's station, to that of Mr. Hume's
father, at which we stopped for a short time. Both farms are well
situated, the latter I should say, romantically so, it being immediately
under Pouni, the hill we have noticed. The country around both was open,
and both pasture and water were abundant.
Mr. O'Brien had been kind enough to send one of the natives who frequented
his station to escort us to his more advanced station upon the
Morumbidgee. Had it not been for the assistance we received from this man,
I should have had but little leisure for other duties: as it was however,
there was no fear of the party going astray. This gave M'Leay and myself
an opportunity of ascending Pouni, for the purpose of taking bearings; and
how ever warm the exertion of the ascent made us, the view from the summit
of the hill sufficiently repaid us, and the cool breeze that struck it,
although imperceptible in the forest below, soon dried the perspiration
from our brows. The scenery around us was certainly varied, yet many
parts of it put me forcibly in mind of the dark and gloomy tracks over
which my eye had wandered from similar elevations on the former journey.
This was especially the case in looking to the north, towards which point
the hills forming the right of the valley by which we had entered the
plains, decreased so rapidly in height that they were lost in the general
equality of the more remote country, almost ere they had reached abreast
of my position. From E.S.E. to W.S.W. the face of the country was hilly,
broken and irregular; forming deep ravines and precipitous glens, amid
which I was well aware the Morumbidgee was still struggling for freedom;
while mountains succeeded mountains in the back-ground, and were
themselves overtopped by lofty and very distant peaks. To the eastward,
however, the hills wore a more regular form, and were lightly covered with
wood. The plains occupied the space between them and Pouni; and a smaller
plain bore N.N.E. which, being embosomed in the forest, had hitherto
escaped our notice.
We overtook the party just as it cleared the open ground through which it
had previously been moving. A barren scrub succeeded it for about eight
miles. The soil in this scrub was light and sandy.
We stopped for the night at the head of a valley that seemed to have been
well trodden by cattle. The feed, therefore, was not abundant, nor was the
water good. We had, however, made a very fair journey, and I was unwilling
to press the animals. But in consequence, I fancy, of the scarcity of
food, they managed to creep away during the night, with the exception of
three or four of the bullocks, nor should we have collected them again so
soon as we did, or without infinite trouble, had it not been for our guide
and my black boy. We unavoidably lost a day, but left our position on the
23rd, for Underaliga, a station occupied by Doctor Harris, the gentleman I
have already had occasion to mention. We reached the banks of the creek
near the stock hut, about 4 p.m., having journeyed during the greater part
of the day through a poor country, partly of scrub and partly of open
forest-land, in neither of which was the soil or vegetation fresh or
abundant. At about three miles from Underaliga, the country entirely
changed its character, and its flatness was succeeded by a broken and
undulating surface. The soil upon the hills was coarse and sandy, from the
decomposition of the granite rock that constituted their base.
Nevertheless, the grass was abundant on the hills, though the roots or
tufts were far apart; and the hills were lightly studded with trees.
COURSE OF A HURRICANE.
In the course of the day we crossed the line of a hurricane that had just
swept with resistless force over the country, preserving a due north
course, and which we had heard from a distance, fortunately too great to
admit of its injuring us. It had opened a fearful gap in the forest
through which it had passed, of about a quarter of a mile in breadth.
Within that space, no tree had been able to withstand its fury, for it had
wrenched every bough from such as it had failed to prostrate, and they
stood naked in the midst of the surrounding wreck. I am inclined to think
that the rudeness of nature itself in these wild and uninhabited regions,
gives birth to these terrific phenomena. They have never occurred, so far
as I know, in the located districts. Our guide deserted us in the early
part of the day without assigning any reason for doing so. He went off
without being noticed, and thus lost the reward that would have been
bestowed on him had he mentioned his wish to return to Yass. I the more
regretted his having sneaked off, because he had had the kindness to put
us on a track we could not well lose.
COUNTRY FROM UNDERALIGA TO MORUMBIDGEE.
Underaliga, is said to be thirty miles from the Morumbidgee. The country
between the two has a sameness of character throughout. It is broken and
irregular, yet no one hill rises conspicuously over the rest. We found
ourselves at one time on their summits beside huge masses of granite, at
others crossing valleys of rich soil and green appearance. A country under
cultivation is so widely different from one the sod of which has never
been broken by the plough, that it is difficult and hazardous to form a
decided opinion on the latter. If you ask a stockman what kind of a
country lies, either to his right, or to his left, he is sure to condemn
it, unless it will afford the most abundant pasture. Accustomed to roam
about from one place to another, these men despise any but the richest
tracts, and include the rest of the neighbourhood in one sweeping clause
of condemnation. Thus I was led to expect, that we should pass over a
country of the very worst description, between Underaliga and the
Morumbidgee. Had it been similar to that midway between Yass and
Underaliga, we should, in truth, have found it so; but it struck me, that
there were many rich tracts of ground among the valleys of the former, and
that the very hills had a fair covering of grass upon them. What though
the soil was coarse, if the vegetation was good and sufficient? Perhaps
the greatest drawback to this part of the interior is the want of water;
yet we crossed several creeks, and remarked some deep water holes, that
can never be exhausted, even in the driest season. Wherever the situation
favoured our obtaining a view of the country on either side of us, while
among these hills, we found that to the eastward lofty and mountainous;
whilst that to the westward, had the appearance of fast sinking into
a level.
JUGGIONG.
A short time before we reached the Morumbidgee, we forded a creek, which
we crossed a second time where it falls into the river. After crossing it
the first time we opened a flat, on which the marks of sheep were
abundant. In the distance there was a small hill, and on its top a bark
hut. We were not until then aware of our being so near the river, but as
Mr. O'Brien had informed me that he had a station for sheep, at a place
called Juggiong, by the natives, on the immediate banks of the river, I
did not doubt that we had, at length, arrived at it. And so it proved. I
went to the hut, to ascertain where I could conveniently stop for the
night, but the residents were absent. I could not but admire the position
they had taken up. The hill upon which their hut was erected was not more
than fifty feet high, but it immediately overlooked the river, and
commanded not only the flat we had traversed in approaching it, but also a
second flat on the opposite side. The Morumbidgee came down to the foot of
this little hill from the south, and, of course, running to the north,
which latter direction it suddenly takes up from a previous S.W. one, on
meeting some hills that check its direct course. From the hill on which
the hut stands, it runs away westward, almost in a direct line, for three
miles, so that the position commands a view of both the reaches, which are
overhung by the casuarina and flooded-gum. Rich alluvial flats lie to the
right of the stream, backed by moderate hills, that were lightly studded
with trees, and clothed with verdure to their summits. Some moderate
elevations also backed a flat, on the left bank of the river, but the
colour of the soil upon the latter, as well as its depressed situation,
showed clearly that it was subject to flood, and had received the worst of
the depositions from the mountains. The hills behind it were also bare,
and of a light red colour, betraying, as I imagined, a distinct formation
from, and poorer character than, the hills behind us. At about three miles
the river again suddenly changes its direction from west to south, for
about a mile, when it inclines to the S.E. until it nearly encircles the
opposite hills, when it assumes its proper direction, and flows away to
the S.W.
CROSS THE UNDERALIGA; REACH THE MORUMBIDGEE.
We crossed the Underaliga creek a little below the stock hut, and encamped
about a mile beyond it, in the centre of a long plain. We were surrounded
on every side by hills, from which there was no visible outlet, as they
appeared to follow the bend of the river, with an even and unbroken
outline. The scenery around us was wild, romantic, and beautiful; as
beautiful as a rich and glowing sunset in the most delightful climate
under the heavens could make it. I had been more anxious to gain the banks
of the Morumbidgee on this occasion, than I had been on a former one to
gain those of the Macquarie, for although I could not hope to see the
Morumbidgee all that it had been described to me, yet I felt that on its
first appearance I should in some measure ground my anticipations of
ultimate success. When I arrived on the banks of the Macquarie, it had
almost ceased to flow, and its current was so gentle as to be scarcely
perceptible. Instead, however, of a river in such a state of exhaustion,
I now looked down upon a stream, whose current it would have been
difficult to breast, and whose waters, foaming among rocks, or circling in
eddies, gave early promise of a reckless course. It must have been
somewhat below its ordinary level, and averaged a breadth of about 80
feet. Its waters were hard and transparent, and its bed was composed of
mountain debris, and large fragments of rock. As soon as the morning
dawned, the tents were struck and we pursued our journey. We followed the
line of the river, until we found ourselves in a deep bight to the S.E.
The hills that had been gradually closing in upon the river, now
approached it so nearly, that there was no room for the passage of the
drays. We were consequently obliged to turn back, and, moving along the
base of the ranges, by which we were thus apparently enclosed, we at
length found a steep pass, the extreme narrowness of which had hidden it
from our observation. By this pass we were now enabled to effect our
escape. On gaining the summit of the hills, we travelled south for three
or four miles, through open forests, and on level ground. But we
ultimately descended into a valley in which we halted for the night. On a
closer examination of the neighbourhood, it appeared that our position was
at the immediate junction of two valleys, where, uniting the waters of
their respective creeks, the main branch declines rapidly towards the
river. One of these valleys extended to to the S.W., the other to the
W.N.W. It was evident to us that our route lay up the former; and I made
no doubt we should easily reach Whaby's station on the morrow.
ADJACENT COUNTRY.
We were now far beyond the acknowledged limits of the located parts of the
colony, and Mr. Whaby's station was the last at which we could expect even
the casual supply of milk or other trifling relief. Yet, although the
prospect of so soon leaving even the outskirts of civilization, and being
wholly thrown on our own resources, was so near, it never for a moment
weighed upon the minds of the men. The novelty of the scenery, and the
beauty of the river on which they were journeying, excited in them the
liveliest anticipations of success. The facility with which we had
hitherto pushed forward blinded them to future difficulties, nor could
there be a more cheerful spectacle than that which the camp daily
afforded. The animals browzing in the distance, and the men talking over
their pipes of the probable adventures they might encounter. The loads
had by this time settled properly, and our provisions proved of the very
best quality, so that no possible improvement could have been made for the
better.
WHABY'S STATION.
On the morrow we pushed up the southernmost of the valleys, at the
junction of which we had encamped, having moderate hills on either side of
us. At the head of the valley we crossed a small dividing range into
another valley, and halted for the night, on the banks of a creek from the
westward, as we found it impossible to reach Whaby's station, as we had
intended, before sunset. Nothing could exceed the luxuriance of the
vegetation in this valley, but the water of the creek was so impregnated
with iron, as to be almost useless. Being anxious to obtain a view of the
surrounding country, I ascended a hill behind the camp, just as the sun
was sinking, a time the most favourable for the object I had in view. The
country, broken into hill and dale, seemed richer than any tract I had as
yet surveyed; and the beauty of the near landscape was greatly
heightened by the mountainous scenery to the S. and S.E. Both the
laxmania, and zanthorea were growing around me; but neither appeared to be
in congenial soil. The face of the hill was very stony, and I found, on
examination, that a great change had taken place in the rock-formation,
the granite ranges having given place to chlorite schist.
We reached Whaby's about 9 a.m. of the morning of the 27th, and received
every attention and civility from him. The valley in which we had slept
opened upon an extensive plain, to the eastward of which the Morumbidgee
formed the extreme boundary; and it was in a bight, and on ground rather
elevated above the plain, that he had fixed his residence. He informed
me that we should have to cross the river, as its banks were too
precipitous, and the ranges too abrupt, to admit of our keeping the right
side; and recommended me to examine and fix upon a spot at which to cross,
before I again moved forward, expressing his readiness to accompany me as
a guide. We accordingly rode down the river, to a place at which some
stockman had effected a passage,--after a week's labour in hewing out a
canoe. I by no means intended that a similar delay should occur in our
case, but I saw no objection to our crossing at the same place; since its
depth, and consequent tranquillity, rendered it eligible enough for that
purpose.
THE RIVER DUMOT.
The Dumot river, another mountain stream, joins the Morumbidgee opposite
to Mr. Whaby's residence. It is little inferior to the latter either in
size or in the rapidity of its current, and, if I may rely on the
information I received, waters a finer country, the principal
rock-formation upon it being of limestone and whinstone. It rises amidst
the snowy ranges to the S.E., and its banks are better peopled than those
of the stream into which it discharges itself. Of course, such a tributary
enlarges the Morumbidgee considerably: indeed, the fact is sufficiently
evident from the appearance of the latter below the junction.
During our ride with Whaby down its banks, we saw nothing but the richest
flats, almost entirely clear of timber and containing from 400 to 700
acres, backed by ranges that were but partially wooded, and were clothed
with verdure to their very summits. The herds that were scattered over the
first were almost lost in the height of the vegetation, and the ranges
served as natural barriers to prevent them from straying away.
CROSS AND RE-CROSS THE MORUMBIDGEE.
On the following morning, we started for the place at which it had been
arranged that we should cross the Morumbidgee, but, though no more than
five miles in a direct line from Whaby's house, in consequence of the
irregularity of the ground, the drays did not reach it before noon. The
weight and quantity of our stores being taken into consideration, the task
we had before us was not a light one. Such, however, was the industry of
the men, that before it became dark the whole of them, including the drays
and sheep, were safely deposited on the opposite bank. We were enabled to
be thus expeditious, by means of a punt that we made with the tarpaulins
on an oblong frame. As soon as it was finished, a rope was conveyed across
the river, and secured to a tree, and a running cord being then fastened
to the punt, a temporary ferry was established, and the removal of our
stores rendered comparatively easy. M'Leay undertook to drive the horses
and cattle over a ford below us, but he did not calculate on the stubborn
disposition of the latter, and, consequently, experienced some difficulty,
and was well nigh swept away by the current. So great was his difficulty,
that he was obliged to land, to his great discomfiture, amidst a grove of
lofty nettles. Mulholland, who accompanied him, and who happened to be
naked, was severly stung by them. The labour of the day was, however,
satisfactorily concluded, and we lay down to rest with feelings of entire
satisfaction.
A great part of the following day was consumed in reloading, nor did we
pursue our journey until after two o'clock. We then passed over tracks on
the left of the river of the same rich description that existed on its
right; they were much intersected by creeks, but were clear of timber,
and entirely out of the reach of floods. At about seven miles from where
we started, we found ourselves checked by precipitous rocks jutting into
the stream, and were obliged once more to make preparations for crossing
it. Instead of a deep and quiet reach, however, the Morumbidgee here
expanded into a fretful rapid; but it was sufficiently shallow to admit of
our taking the drays over, without the trouble of unloading them. There
was still, however, some labour required in cutting down the banks, and
the men were fully occupied until after sunset; and so well did they work,
that an hour's exertion in the morning enabled us to make the passage with
safety. On ascending the right bank, we found that we had to force
through a dense body of reeds, covering some flooded land, at the base of
a range terminating upon the river; and we were obliged, in order to
extricate ourselves from our embarrassments, to pass to the N.W. of the
point, and to cross a low part of the range. This done, we met with no
further interruptions during the day, but travelled along rich and clear
flats to a deep bight below an angle of the river called Nangaar by the
natives; where we pitched our camp, and our animals revelled amid the most
luxuriant pasture. Only in one place did the sandy superficies upon the
plain indicate that it was there subject to flood.
The Morumbidgee from Juggiong to our present encampment had held a general
S.S.W. course, but from the summit of a hill behind the tents it now
appeared to be gradually sweeping round to the westward; and I could trace
the line of trees upon its banks, through a rich and extensive valley in
that direction, as far as my sight could reach. The country to the S.E.
maintained its lofty character, but to the westward the hills and ranges
were evidently decreasing in height, and the distant interior seemed fast
sinking to a level. The general direction of the ranges had been from N.
to S., and as we had been travelling parallel to them, their valleys were
shut from our view. Now, however, several rich and extensive ones became
visible, opening from the southward into the valley of the Morumbidgee,
and, as a further evidence of a change of country from a confused to a
more open one, a plain of considerable size stretched from immediately
beneath the hill on which I was to the N.W.
GEOLOGY OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.
The Morumbidgee itself, from the length and regularity of its reaches, as
well as from its increased size, seemed to intimate that it had
successfully struggled through the broken country in which it rises, and
that it would henceforward meet with fewer interruptions to its course. It
still, however, preserved all the characters of a mountain stream; having
alternate rapids and deep pools, being in many places encumbered with
fallen timber, and generally running over a shingly bed, composed of
rounded fragments of every rock of which the neighbouring ranges were
formed, and many others that had been swept by the torrents down it. The
rock formation of the hills upon its right continued of that chlorite
schist which prevailed near Mr. Whaby's, which I have already noticed, and
quartz still appeared in large masses, on the loftier ranges opposite, so
that the geology of the neighbourhood could not be said to have undergone
any material change. It might, however, be considered an extraordinary
feature in it, that a small hill of blue limestone existed upon the left
bank of the river. The last place at which we had seen limestone was at
Yass, but I had learned from Mr. Whaby, that, together with whinstone, it
was abundant near a Mr. Rose's station on the Dumot, that was not at any
great distance. The irregularity, however, of the intervening country,
made the appearance of this solitary rock more singular.
Although the fires of the natives had been frequent upon the river, none
had, as yet, ventured to approach us, in consequence of some
misunderstanding that had taken place between them and Mr. Stuckey's
stockmen. Mr. Roberts' stockmen [these men had lately fixed themselves
on the river a little below Mr. Whaby's], however, brought a man and a boy
to us at this place in the afternoon, but I could not persuade them to
accompany us on our journey--neither could I, although my native boy
understood them perfectly, gain any particular information from them.
In consequence of rain, we did not strike the tents so early as usual.
At 7 a.m. a heavy thunder storm occurred from the N.W. after which the
sky cleared, and we were enabled to push forward at 11 a.m., moving on a
general W.N.W, course, over rich flats, which, having been moistened by
the morning's showers, showed the dark colour of the rich earth of which
they were composed. Some sand-hills were, however, observed near the
river, of about fifteen feet in elevation, crowned by banksias; and the
soil of the flats had a very partial mixture of sand in it. How these
sand-hills could have been formed it is difficult to say; but they
produced little minor vegetation, and were as pure as the sand of the
sea-shore. Some considerable plains were noticed to our right, in
appearance not inferior to the ground on which we were journeying. At noon
we rose gradually from the level of these plains, and travelled along the
side of a hill, until we got to a small creek, at which we stopped, though
more than a mile and a half from the river. The clouds had been gathering
again in the N.W. quarter, and we had scarcely time to secure our flour,
when a second storm burst upon us, and it continued to rain violently for
the remainder of the day.
BEAUTIFUL PROSPECT.
From a small hill that lay to our left Mr. M'Leay and I enjoyed a most
beautiful view. Beneath us to the S. E. the rich and lightly timbered
valley through which the Morumbidgee flows, extended, and parts of the
river were visible through the dark masses of swamp-oak by which it was
lined, or glittering among the flooded-gum trees, that grew in its
vicinity. In the distance was an extensive valley that wound between
successive mountain ranges. More to the eastward, both mountain and
woodland bore a dark and gloomy shade, probably in consequence of the
light upon them at the time. Those lofty peaks that had borne nearly
south of us from Pouni, near Yass, now rose over the last-mentioned
ranges, and by their appearance seemed evidently to belong to a high and
rugged chain. To the westward, the decline of country was more observable
than ever; and the hills on both sides of the river, were lower and more
distant from it. Those upon which we found ourselves were composed of
iron-stone, were precipitous towards the river in many places, of sandy
soil, and were crowned with beef-wood as well as box. The change in the
rock-formation and in the soil, produced a corresponding change in the
vegetation. The timber was not so large as it had been, neither did the
hills any longer bear the green appearance which had distinguished those
we had passed to their very summits. The grass here grew in tufts amidst
the sand, and was of a burnt appearance as if it had suffered from
drought.
NATIVES--THEIR SUFFERING FROM COLD.
Some natives had joined us in the morning, and acted as our guides; or it
is more than probable that we should have continued our course along the
river, and got enbarrassed among impediments that were visible from our
elevated position; for it was evident that the range we had ascended
terminated in an abrupt precipice on the river, that we could not have
passed. The blacks suffered beyond what I could have imagined, from cold,
and seemed as incapable of enduring it as if they had experienced the
rigour of a northern snow storm.
The morning of the 2nd December was cloudy and lowering, and the wind
still hung in the N.W. There was truly every appearance of bad weather,
but our anxiety to proceed on our journey overcame our apprehensions,
and the animals were loaded and moved off at 7 a.m. The rain which had
fallen the evening previous, rendered travelling heavy; so that we got on
but slowly. At 11, the clouds burst, and continued to pour down for the
rest of the day. On leaving the creek we crossed the spine of the range,
and descending from it into a valley, that continued to the river on the
one hand, and stretched away to the N.W. on the other, we ascended some
hills opposite to us, and moved generally through open, undulating forest
ground, affording good pasturage.
SMOKING AN OPOSSUM.
One of the blacks being anxious to get an opossum out of a dead tree,
every branch of which was hollow, asked for a tomahawk, with which he cut
a hole in the trunk above where he thought the animal lay concealed. He
found however, that he had cut too low, and that it had run higher up.
This made it necessary to smoke it out; he accordingly got some dry grass,
and having kindled a fire, stuffed it into the hole he had cut. A raging
fire soon kindled in the tree, where the draft was great, and dense
columns of smoke issued from the end of each branch as thick as that from
the chimney of a steam engine. The shell of the tree was so thin that I
thought it would soon be burnt through, and that the tree would fall; but
the black had no such fears, and, ascending to the highest branch, he
watched anxiously for the poor little wretch he had thus surrounded with
dangers and devoted to destruction; and no sooner did it appear, half
singed and half roasted, than he seized upon it and threw it down to
us with an air of triumph. The effect of the scene in so lonely a forest,
was very fine. The roaring of the fire in the tree, the fearless attitude
of the savage, and the associations which his colour and appearance,
enveloped as he was in smoke, called up, were singular, and still dwell
on my recollection. We had not long left the tree, when it fell with a
tremendous crash, and was, when we next passed that way, a mere heap of
ashes.
ACCIDENTS.
Shortly before it commenced raining, the dogs started an emu, and took
after it, followed by M'Leay and myself. We failed in killing it, and I
was unfortunate enough to lose a most excellent watch upon the occasion,
which in regularity was superior to the chronometer I had with me.
As there was no hope of the weather clearing up, I sent M'Leay and one of
the blacks with the flour to the river, with directions to pile it up and
cover it with tarpaulins, as soon as possible, remaining myself to bring
up the drays. It was not, however, until after 4 p.m. that we gained the
river-side, or that we were enabled to get into shelter. Fraser met with a
sad accident while assisting the driver of the teams, who, accidentally,
struck him with the end of the lash of his whip in the eye, and cut the
lower lid in two. The poor fellow fell to the ground as if he had been
shot, and really, from the report of the whip, I was at first uncertain
of the nature of the accident.
PONDEBADGERY.
We had gradually ascended some hills; and as the sweep of the valley led
southerly, we continued along it until we got to its very head; then,
crossing the ridge we descended the opposite side, towards a beautiful
plain, on the further extremity of which the river line was marked by the
dark-leafed casuarina. In spite of the badness of the weather and the
misfortunes of the day, I could not but admire the beauty of the scene.
We were obliged to remain stationary the following day, in consequence
of one of the drays being out of repair, and requiring a new axle-tree.
I could hardly regret the necessity that kept us in so delightful a spot.
This plain, which the natives called Pondebadgery, and in which a station
has since been formed, is about two miles in breadth, by about three and
a-half in length. It is surrounded apparently on every side by hills. The
river running E. and W. forms its southern boundary. The hills by which we
had entered it, terminating abruptly on the river to the north-east, form
a semi-circle round it to the N.N.W. where a valley, the end of which
cannot be seen, runs to the north-west, of about half a mile in breadth.
On the opposite side of the river moderate hills rise over each other, and
leave little space between them and its banks. The Morumbidgee itself,
with an increased breadth, averaging from seventy to eighty yards,
presents a still, deep sheet of water to the view, over which the
casuarina bends with all the grace of the willow, or the birch, but with
more sombre foliage. To the west, a high line of flooded-gum trees
extending from the river to the base of the hills which form the west side
of the valley before noticed, hides the near elevations, and thus shuts in
the whole space. The soil of the plain is of the richest description, and
the hills backing it, together with the valley, are capable of depasturing
the most extensive flocks.
Such is the general landscape from the centre of Pondebadgery Plain.
Behind the line of gum-trees, the river suddenly sweeps away to the south,
and forms a deep bight of seven miles, when, bearing up again to the N.W.
it meets some hills about 10 miles to the W.N.W. of the plain, thus
encircling a still more extensive space, that for richness of soil, and
for abundance of pasture, can nowhere be excelled; such, though on a
smaller scale, are all the flats that adorn the banks of the Morumbidgee,
first on one side and then on the other, as the hills close in upon them,
from Juggiong to Pondebadgery.
TRAVELLING DOWN THE RIVER.
It is deeply to be regretted that this noble river should exist at such a
distance from the capital as to be unavailable. During our stay on the
Pondebadgery Plain, the men caught a number of codfish, as they are
generally termed, but which are, in reality, a species of perch. The
largest weighed 40lb. but the majority of the others were small, not
exceeding from six to eight. M'Leay and I walked to the N.W. extremity of
the plain, in order to ascertain how we should debouche from it, and to
get, if possible, a view of the western interior. We took with us two
blacks who had attached themselves to the party, and had made themselves
generally useful. On ascending the most westerly of the hills, we found it
composed of micaceous schist, the upper coat of which was extremely soft,
and broke with a slaty fracture, or crumbled into a sparkling dust beneath
our feet. The summit of the hill was barren, and beef-wood alone grew on
it. The valley, of which it was the western boundary, ran up northerly for
two or three miles, with all the appearance of richness and verdure. To
the south extended the flat I have noticed, more heavily timbered than we
had usually found them, bounded, or backed rather, by a hilly country,
although one fast losing in its general height. To the W.N.W. there was a
moderate range of hills on the opposite side of an extensive valley,
running up northerly, from which a lateral branch swept round to the
W.N.W. with a gradual ascent into the hills, which bore the same
appearance of open forest, grazing land, as prevailed in similar tracts to
the eastward. The blacks pointed out to us our route up the valley, and
stated that we should get on the banks of the river again in a direction
W. by N. from the place on which we stood. We accordingly crossed the
principal valley on the following morning, and gradually ascended the
opposite line of hills. They terminate to the S.E. in lofty precipices,
overlooking the river flats, and having a deep chain of ponds under them.
The descent towards the river was abrupt, and we encamped upon its banks,
with a more confined view than any we had ever had before. There was an
evident change in the river; the banks were reedy, the channel deep and
muddy, and the neighbourhood bore more the appearance of being subject to
overflow than it had done in any one place we had passed over. The hills
were much lower, and as we gained the southern brow of that under which we
encamped, we could see a level and wooded country to the westward. The
line of the horizon was unbroken by any hills in the distance, and the
nearer ones seemed gradually to lose themselves in the darkness of the
landscape.
The two natives, whom the stockmen had named Peter and Jemmie, were of
infinite service to us, from their knowledge of all the passes, and the
general features of the country. Having, however, seen us thus far on the
journey from their usual haunts, they became anxious to return, and it was
with some difficulty we persuaded them to accompany us for a few days
longer, in hopes of reward. The weather had been cool and pleasant; the
thermometer averaging 78 of Fahrenheit at noon, in consequences of which
the animals kept in good condition, the men healthy and zealous. The sheep
Mr. O'Brien had presented to us, gave no additional trouble; they followed
in the rear of the party without attempting to wander, and were secured at
night in a small pen or fold. No waste attended their slaughter, nor did
they lose in condition, from being driven from ten to fifteen miles daily,
so much as I had been led to suppose they would have done.