A bluff hill.
Quandong trees.
The mulga tree.
Travel South-south-east.
Mare left behind.
Native peaches.
Short of water.
Large tree.
Timbered ridges.
Horses suffer from thirst.
Pine-trees.
Native encampments.
Native paintings in caves.
Peculiar crevice.
A rock tarn.
A liquid prize.
Caverns and caves.
A pretty oasis.
Ripe figs.
Recover the mare.
Thunder and lightning.
Ornamented caves.
Hands of glory.
A snake in a hole.
Heavy dew.
Natives burning the country.
A rocky eminence.
Waterless region.
Cheerless view.
A race of Salamanders.
Circles of fire.
Wallaby and pigeons.
Wallaby traps.
Return to depot.
Water diminishing.
Glen Edith.
Mark trees.
The tarn of Auber.
Landmarks to it.
Seeds sown.
Everything in miniature.
Journey south.
Desert oaks.
A better region.
Kangaroos and emus.
Desert again.
A creek channel.
Water by scratching.
Find more.
Splendid grass.
Native signs.
Farther south.
Beautiful green.
Abundance of water.
Follow the channel.
Laurie's Creek.
Vale of Tempe.
A gap or pass.
Without water.
Well-grassed plain.
Native well.
Dry rock holes.
Natives' fires.
New ranges.
High mountain.
Return to creek.
And Glen Edith.
Description of it.
On starting from Mount Udor, on the 1st October, our road lay at first
over rocks and stones, then for two or three miles through thick
scrubs. The country afterwards became a trifle less scrubby, and
consisted of sandhills, timbered with casuarina, and covered, as
usual, with triodia. In ten miles we passed a low bluff hill, and
camped near it, without any water. On the road we saw several quandong
trees, and got some of the ripe fruit. The day was warm and sultry;
but the night set in cool, if not cold. Mr. Carmichael went to the top
of the low bluff, and informed me of the existence of low ridges,
bounding the horizon in every direction except to the
south-south-east, and that the intervening country appeared to be
composed of sandhills, with casuarinas, or mulga scrubs.
In Baron von Mueller's extraordinary work on Select Extra-tropical
Plants, with indications of their native countries, and some of their
uses, these remarks occur:--"Acacia aneura, Ferd. v. Mueller. Arid
desert--interior of extra tropic Australia. A tree never more than
twenty-five feet high. The principal 'mulga' tree. Mr. S. Dixon
praises it particularly as valuable for fodder of pasture animals;
hence it might locally serve for ensilage. Mr. W. Johnson found in the
foliage a considerable quantity of starch and gum, rendering it
nutritious. Cattle and sheep browse on the twigs of this, and some
allied species, even in the presence of plentiful grass; and are much
sustained by such acacias in seasons of protracted drought.
Dromedaries in Australia crave for the mulga as food. Wood excessively
hard, dark-brown; used, preferentially, by the natives for boomerangs,
sticks with which to lift edible roots, and shafts of phragmites,
spears, wommerahs, nulla-nullas, and jagged spear ends. Mr. J.H.
Maiden determined the percentage of mimosa tannic acid in the
perfectly dry bark as 8.62." The mulga bears a small woody fruit
called the mulga apple. It somewhat resembles the taste of apples, and
is sweet. If crab apples, as is said, were the originals of all the
present kinds, I imagine an excellent fruit might be obtained from the
mulga by cultivation. As this tree is necessarily so often mentioned
in my travels, the remarks of so eminent a botanist upon it cannot be
otherwise than welcome.
In the direction of south-south-east Mr. Carmichael said the country
appeared most open. A yellow flower, of the immortelle species, which
I picked at this little bluff, was an old Darling acquaintance; the
vegetation, in many respects, resembles that of the River Darling.
There was no water at this bluff, and the horses wandered all over the
country during the night, in mobs of twos and threes. It was midday
before we got away. For several hours we kept on south-south-east,
over sandhills and through casuarina timber, in unvarying monotony. At
about five o'clock the little mare that had foaled yesterday gave in,
and would travel no farther. We were obliged to leave her amongst the
sandhills.
We continued until we had travelled forty miles from Mount Udor, but
no signs of a creek or any place likely to produce or hold water had
been found. The only difference in the country was that it was now
more open, though the spinifex was as lively as ever.
We passed several quandong trees in full fruit, of which we ate a
great quantity; they were the most palatable, and sweetest I have ever
eaten. We also passed a few Currajong-trees (Brachychiton). At this
point we turned nearly east. It was, however, now past sundown, too
dark to go on any farther, and we had again to encamp without water,
our own small supply being so limited that we could have only a third
of a pint each, and we could not eat anything in consequence. The
horses had to be very short-hobbled to prevent their straying, and we
passed the night under the umbrage of a colossal Currajong-tree. The
unfortunate horses had now been two days and nights without water, and
could not feed; being so short-hobbled, they were almost in sight of
the camp in the morning. From the top of a sandhill I saw that the
eastern horizon was bounded by timbered ridges, and it was not very
probable that the creek I was searching for could lie between us and
them. Indeed, I concluded that the creek had exhausted itself, not far
from where we had left it. The western horizon was now bounded by low
ridges, continuous for many miles. I decided to make for our last camp
on the creek, distant some five-and-twenty miles north-east. At five
miles after starting, we came upon a mass of eucalypts which were not
exactly gum-trees, though of that family, and I thought this might be
the end of the exhausted creek channel, only the timber grew
promiscuously on the tops of the sandhills, as in the lower ground
between them. There was no appearance of any flow of water ever having
passed by these trees, and indeed they looked more like gigantic
mallee-trees than gums, only that they grew separately. They covered a
space of about half a mile wide. From here I saw that some ridges were
right before me, at a short distance, but where our line of march
would intersect them they seemed so scrubby and stony I wished to
avoid them. At one point I discerned a notch or gap. The horses were
now very troublesome to drive, the poor creatures being very bad with
thirst. I turned on the bearing that would take me back to the old
creek, which seemed the only spot in this desolate region where water
could be found, and there we had to dig to get it. At one place on the
ridges before us appeared a few pine-trees (Callitris) which enliven
any region they inhabit, and there is usually water in their
neighbourhood. The rocks from which the pines grew were much broken;
they were yet, however, five or six miles away. We travelled directly
towards them, and upon approaching, I found the rocks upheaved in a
most singular manner, and a few gum-trees were visible at the foot of
the ridge. I directed Carmichael and Robinson to avoid the stones as
much as possible, while I rode over to see whether there was a creek
or any other place where water might be procured. On approaching the
rocks at the foot of the ridge, I found several enormous overhanging
ledges of sandstone, under which the natives had evidently been
encamped long and frequently; and there was the channel of a small
watercourse scarcely more than six feet wide. I rode over to another
overhanging ledge and found it formed a verandah wide enough to make a
large cave; upon the walls of this, the natives had painted strange
devices of snakes, principally in white; the children had scratched
imperfect shapes of hands with bits of charcoal. The whole length of
this cave had frequently been a large encampment. Looking about with
some hopes of finding the place where these children of the wilderness
obtained water, I espied about a hundred yards away, and on the
opposite side of the little glen or valley, a very peculiar looking
crevice between two huge blocks of sandstone, and apparently not more
than a yard wide. I rode over to this spot, and to my great delight
found a most excellent little rock tarn, of nearly an oblong shape,
containing a most welcome and opportune supply of the fluid I was so
anxious to discover. Some green slime rested on a portion of the
surface, but the rest was all clear and pure water. My horse must have
thought me mad, and any one who had seen me might have thought I had
suddenly espied some basilisk, or cockatrice, or mailed saurian; for
just as the horse was preparing to dip his nose in the water he so
greatly wanted, I turned him away and made him gallop off after his
and my companions, who were slowly passing away from this liquid
prize. When I hailed, and overtook them, they could scarcely believe
that our wants were to be so soon and so agreeably relieved. There was
abundance of water for all our requirements here, but the approach was
so narrow that only two horses could drink at one time, and we had
great difficulty in preventing some of the horses from precipitating
themselves, loads and all, into the inviting fluid. No one who has not
experienced it, can imagine the pleasure which the finding of such a
treasure confers on the thirsty, hungry, and weary traveller; all his
troubles for the time are at an end. Thirst, that dire affliction that
besets the wanderer in the Australian wilds, at last is quenched; his
horses, unloaded, are allowed to roam and graze and drink at will,
free from the encumbrance of hobbles, and the traveller's other
appetite of hunger is also at length appeased, for no matter what food
one may carry, it is impossible to eat it without water. This was
truly a mental and bodily relief. After our hunger had been satisfied
I took a more extended survey of our surroundings, and found that we
had dropped into a really very pretty little spot.
Low sandstone hills, broken and split into most extraordinary shapes,
forming huge caves and caverns, that once no doubt had been some of
the cavernous depths of the ocean, were to be seen in every direction;
little runnels, with a few gum-trees upon them, constituted the
creeks. Callitris or cypress pines, ornamented the landscape, and a
few blood-wood or red gum-trees also enlivened the scene. No
porcupine, but real green grass made up a really pretty picture, to
the explorer at least. This little spot is indeed an oasis. I had
climbed high hills, traversed untold miles of scrub, and gone in all
directions to try and pick up the channel of a wretched dry creek,
when all of a sudden I stumbled upon a perfect little paradise. I
found the dimensions of this little tarn are not very large, nor is
the quantity of water in it very great, but untouched and in its
native state it is certainly a permanent water for its native owners.
It has probably not been filled since last January or February, and it
now contains amply sufficient water to enable it to last until those
months return, provided that no such enormous drinkers as horses draw
upon it; in that case it might not last a month. I found the actual
water was fifty feet long, by eight feet wide, and four feet deep; the
rocks in which the water lies are more than twenty feet high. The main
ridges at the back are between 200 and 300 feet high. The native
fig-tree (Ficus orbicularis) grows here most luxuriantly; there are
several of them in full fruit, which is delicious when thoroughly
ripe. I had no thought of deserting this welcome little spot for a few
days. On the following morning Mr. Carmichael and I loaded a
pack-horse with water and started back into the scrub to where we left
the little mare the day before yesterday. With protractor and paper I
found the spot we left her at bore from this place south 70 degrees
west, and that she was now no more than thirteen or fourteen miles
away, though we had travelled double the distance since we left her.
We therefore travelled upon that bearing, and at thirteen and a half
miles we cut our former track at about a quarter of a mile from where
we left the mare. We soon picked up her track and found she had
wandered about a mile, although hobbled, from where we left her. We
saw her standing, with her head down, under an oak tree truly
distressed. The poor little creature was the picture of misery, her
milk was entirely gone--she was alive, and that was all that could be
said of her. She swallowed up the water we brought with the greatest
avidity; and I believe could have drank as much as a couple of camels
could have carried to her. We let her try to feed for a bit with the
other three horses, and then started back for the tarn. On this line
we did not intersect any of the eucalyptus timber we had passed
through yesterday. The mare held up very well until we were close to
the camp, when she gave in again; but we had to somewhat severely
persuade her to keep moving, and at last she had her reward by being
left standing upon the brink of the water, where she was [like Cyrus
when Queen Thomeris had his head cut off into a receptacle filled with
blood] enabled to drink her fill.
In the night heavy storm-clouds gathered o'er us, and vivid lightnings
played around the rocks near the camp: a storm came up and seemed to
part in two, one half going north and the other south; but just before
daybreak we were awakened by a crash of thunder that seemed to split
the hills; and we heard the wrack as though the earth and sky would
mingle; but only a few drops of rain fell, too little to leave any
water, even on the surface of the flat rocks close to the camp. This
is certainly an extraordinary climate. I do not believe a week ever
passes without a shower of rain, but none falls to do any good: one
good fallen in three or even six months, beginning now, would be
infinitely more gratifying, to me at least; but I suppose I must take
it as I find it. The rain that does fall certainly cools the
atmosphere a little, which is a partial benefit.
I found several more caves to-day up in the rocks, and noticed that
the natives here have precisely the same method of ornamenting them as
the natives of the Barrier Range and mountains east of the Darling.
You see the representation of the human hand here, as there, upon the
walls of the caves: it is generally coloured either red or black. The
drawing is done by filling the mouth with charcoal powder if the
device is to be black, if red with red ochre powder, damping the wall
where the mark is to be left, and placing the palm of the hand against
it, with the fingers stretched out; the charcoal or ochre powder is
then blown against the back of the hand; when it is withdrawn, it
leaves the space occupied by the hand and fingers clean, while the
surrounding portions of the wall are all black or red, as the case may
be. One device represents a snake going into a hole: the hole is
actually in the rock, while the snake is painted on the wall, and the
spectator is to suppose that its head is just inside the hole; the
body of the reptile is curled round and round the hole, though its
breadth is out of all proportion to its length, being seven or eight
inches thick, and only two or three feet long. It is painted with
charcoal ashes which had been mixed up with some animal's or reptile's
fat. Mr. Carmichael left upon the walls a few choice specimens of the
white man's art, which will help, no doubt, to teach the young native
idea, how to shoot either in one direction or another.
To-day it rained in light and fitful shallows, which, as usual, were
of no use, except indeed to cause a heavy dew which wet all our
blankets and things, for we always camp without tent or tarpaulin
whenever it does not actually rain. The solar beams of morning soon
evaporated the dew. To the west-south-west the natives were hunting,
and as usual burning the spinifex before them. They do not seem to
care much for our company; for ever since we left the Glen of Palms,
the cave-dwelling, reptile-eating Troglodytes have left us severely
alone. As there was a continuous ridge for miles to the westward, I
determined to visit it; for though this little tarn, that I had so
opportunely found, was a most valuable discovery, yet the number of
horses I had were somewhat rapidly reducing the water supply, and I
could plainly perceive that, with such a strain upon it, it could not
last much more than a month, if that; I must therefore endeavour to
find some other watered place, where next I may remove.
On the morning of the 7th October it was evident a warm day was
approaching. Mr. Carmichael and I started away to a small rocky
eminence, which bore a great resemblance to the rocks immediately
behind this camp, and in consequence we hoped to find more water
there. The rocks bore south 62 degrees west from camp; we travelled
over sandhills, through scrub, triodia, and some casuarina country,
until we reached the hill in twenty miles. It was composed of broken
red sandstone rock, being isolated from the main ridge; other similar
heaps were in the vicinity.
We soon discovered that there was neither water nor any place to hold
it. Having searched all about, we went away to some other ridges, with
exactly the same result; and at dark we had to encamp in the scrubs,
having travelled forty miles on fifty courses. The thermometer had
stood at 91 degrees in the shade, where we rested the horses in the
middle of the day. Natives' smokes were seen mostly round the base of
some other ridges to the south-east, which I determined to visit
to-morrow; as the fires were there, natives must or should be also;
and as they require water to exist, we might find their hidden
springs. It seemed evident that only in the hills or rocky reservoirs
water could be found.
We slept under the shadow of a hill, and mounted to its top in the
morning. The view was anything but cheering; ridges, like islands in a
sea of scrub, appeared in connection with this one; some distance away
another rose to the south-east. We first searched those near us, and
left them in disgust, for those farther away. At eight or nine miles
we reached the latter, and another fruitless search was gone through.
We then went to another and another, walking over the stones and
riding through the scrubs. We found some large rocky places, where
water might remain for many weeks, after being filled; but when such
an occurrence ever had taken place, or ever would take place again, it
was impossible to tell. We had wandered into and over such frightful
rocky and ungodly places, that it appeared useless to search farther
in such a region, as it seemed utterly impossible for water to exist
in it all. Nevertheless, the natives were about, burning, burning,
ever burning; one would think they were of the fabled salamander race,
and lived on fire instead of water. The fires were starting up here
and there around us in fresh and narrowing circles; it seems as though
the natives can only get water from the hollow spouts of some trees
and from the roots of others, for on the surface of the earth there is
none. We saw a few rock wallaby, a different variety to the scrub or
open sandhill kinds. Bronze-winged pigeons also were occasionally
startled as we wandered about the rocks; these birds must have water,
but they never drink except at sundown, and occasionally just before
sunrise, then they fly so swiftly, with unerring precision, on their
filmy wings, to the place they know so well will supply them; and
thirty, forty, or fifty miles of wretched scrub, that would take a
poor human being and his horse a whole day to accomplish, are passed
over with the quickness of thought. The birds we flushed up would
probably dart across the scrubs to the oasis we had so recently found.
Our horses were getting bad and thirsty; the day was warm; 92 degrees
in the shade, in thirst and wretchedness, is hot enough, for any poor
animal or man either. But man enters these desolate regions to please
himself or satisfy his desire for ambition to win for himself--what? a
medal, a record, a name? Well, yes, dear reader, these may enter into
his thoughts as parts of a tangible recognition of his labours; but a
nobler idea also actuates him--either to find, for the benefit of
those who come after him, some beauteous spots where they may dwell;
or if these regions can't supply them, of deserts only can he tell;
but the unfortunate lower is forced into such frightful privations to
please the higher animals. We now turned up towards the north-west,
amongst scrubs, sandhills, and more stony ridges, where another
fruitless search ended as before. Now to the east of us rose a more
continuous ridge, which we followed under its (base) foot, hoping
against hope to meet some creek or gully with water. Gullies we saw,
but neither creeks or water. We continued on this line till we struck
our outgoing track, and as it was again night, we encamped without
water. We had travelled in a triangle. To-day's march was forty-three
miles, and we were yet twenty-nine from the tarn--apparently the only
water existing in this extraordinary and terrible region.
In one or two places to-day, passing through some of the burning
scrubs and spinifex, we had noticed the fresh footprints of several
natives. Of course they saw us, but they most perseveringly shunned
us, considering us probably far too low a type of animal for their
society. We also saw to-day dilapidated old yards, where they had
formerly yarded emu or wallaby, though we saw none of their wurleys,
or mymys, or gunyahs, or whatever name suits best. The above are all
names of the same thing, of tribes of natives, of different parts of
the Continent--as Lubra, Gin, Nungo, etc., are for woman. No doubt
these natives carry water in wallaby or other animals' skins during
their burning hunts, for they travel great distances in a day, walking
and burning, and picking up everything alive or roasted as they go,
and bring the game into the general camp at night. We passed through
three different lines of conflagrations to-day. I only wish I could
catch a native, or a dozen, or a thousand; it would be better to die
or conquer in a pitched battle for water, than be for ever fighting
these direful scrubs and getting none. The following morning the poor
horses looked wretched in the extreme; to remain long in such a region
without water is very severe upon them; it is a wonder they are able
to carry us so well. From this desert camp our depot bore north 40
degrees east. The horses were so exhausted that, though we started
early enough, it was late in the afternoon when we had accomplished
the twenty-nine or thirty miles that brought us at last to the tarn.
Altogether they had travelled 120 miles without a drink. The water in
the tarn had evidently shrunk. The day was warm--thermometer 92
degrees in shadiest place at the depot. A rest after the fatigue of
the last few days was absolutely necessary before we made a fresh
attempt in some new locality.
(ILLUSTRATION: GLEN EDITH.)
It is only partly a day's rest--for I, at least, have plenty to do;
but it is a respite, and we can drink our fill of water. And oh! what
a pleasure, what a luxury that is! How few in civilisation will drink
water when they can get anything else. Let them try going without, in
the explorer's sense of the expression, and then see how they will
long for it! The figs on the largest tree, near the cave opposite, are
quite ripe and falling; neither Carmichael nor Robinson care for them,
but I eat a good many, though I fancy they are not quite wholesome for
a white man's digestive organs; at first, they act as an aperient, but
subsequently have an opposite effect. I called this charming little
oasis Glen Edith, after one of my nieces. I marked two gum-trees at
this camp, one "Giles 24", and another "Glen Edith 24 Oct 9, 72". Mr.
Carmichael and Robinson also marked one with their names. The
receptacle in which I found the water I have called the Tarn of Auber,
after Allan Poe's beautiful lines, in which that name appears, as I
thought them appropriate to the spot. He says:--
"It was in the drear month of October,
The leaves were all crisped and sere,
Adown by the Tarn of Auber,
In the misty mid regions of Weir."
If these are not the misty mid regions of Weir, I don't know where
they are. There are two heaps of broken sandstone rocks, with cypress
pines growing about them, which will always be a landmark for any
future traveller who may seek the wild seclusion of these sequestered
caves. The bearing of the water from them is south 51 degrees west,
and it is about a mile on that bearing from the northern heap; that
with a glance at my map would enable any ordinary bushman to find it.
I sowed a quantity of vegetable seeds here, also seeds of the
Tasmanian blue gum-tree, some wattles and clover, rye and
prairie-grass. In the bright gleams of the morning, in this Austral
land of dawning, it was beautiful to survey this little spot;
everything seemed in miniature here--little hills, little glen, little
trees, little tarn, and little water. Though the early mornings were
cool and pleasant, the days usually turned out just the opposite. On
the 11th Mr. Carmichael and I got fresh horses, and I determined to
try the country more to the south, and leaving Alec Robinson and the
little dog Monkey again in charge of glen, and camp, and tarn, away we
went in that direction. At first we travelled over sandhills, timbered
with the fine Casuarina decaisneana, or desert oak; we then met some
eucalyptus-trees growing promiscuously on the tops of the sandhills,
as well as in the hollows. At twelve miles we rode over a low ridge;
the country in advance appeared no more inviting than that already
travelled. Descending to the lower ground, however, we entered upon a
bit of better country, covered with green grass, there was also some
thick mulga scrub upon it. Here we saw a few kangaroos and emus, but
could not get a shot at them. Beyond this we entered timbered country
again, the desert oak being quite a desert sign. In a few miles
farther another ridge fronted us, and a trifle on our left lay a
hollow, or valley, which seemed to offer the best road, but we had to
ride through some very scrubby gullies, stony, and covered with
spinifex. It eventually formed the valley of a small creek, which soon
had a few gum-trees on it. After following this about four miles, we
saw a place where the sand was damp, and got some water by scratching
with our hands. The supply was insufficient, and we went farther down
and found a small hole with just enough for our three horses, and now,
having found a little, we immediately wanted to find a great deal
more. At twenty-six miles from the tarn we found a place where the
natives had dug, and there seemed a good supply, so we camped there
for the night. The grass along this creek was magnificent, being about
eight inches high and beautifully green, the old grass having been
burnt some time ago. It was a most refreshing sight to our
triodia-accustomed eyes; at twelve o'clock the thermometer stood at 94
degrees in the shade. The trend of this little creek, and the valley
in which it exists, is to the south-east. Having found water here, we
were prepared to find numerous traces of natives, and soon saw old
camps and wurleys, and some recent footmarks. I was exceedingly
gratified to find this water, as I hoped it would eventually enable me
to get out of the wretched bed of sand and scrub into which we had
been forced since leaving the Finke, and which evidently occupies such
an enormous extent of territory. Our horses fed all night close at
hand, and we were in our saddles early enough. I wanted to go west,
and the further west the better; but we decided to follow the creek
and see what became of it, and if any more waters existed in it. We
found that it meandered through a piece of open plain, splendidly
grassed, and delightful to gaze upon. How beautiful is the colour of
green! What other colour could even Nature have chosen with which to
embellish the face of the earth? How, indeed, would red, or blue, or
yellow pall upon the eye! But green, emerald green, is the loveliest
of all Nature's hues. The soil of this plain was good and firm. The
creek had now worn a deep channel, and in three miles from where we
camped we came upon the top of a high red bank, with a very nice
little water-hole underneath. There was abundance of water for 100 or
200 horses for a month or two, and plenty more in the sand below.
Three other ponds were met lower down, and I believe water can always
be got by digging. We followed the creek for a mile or two farther,
and found that it soon became exhausted, as casuarina and triodia
sandhills environed the little plain, and after the short course of
scarcely ten miles, the little creek became swallowed up by those
water-devouring monsters. This was named Laurie's Creek.
There was from 6000 to 10,000 acres of fine grass land in this little
plain, and it was such a change from the sterile, triodia, and sandy
country outside it, I could not resist calling it the Vale of Tempe.
We left the exhausted creek, and in ten miles from our camp we entered
on and descended into another valley, which was open, but had no signs
of any water. From a hill I saw some ridges stretching away to the
south and south-west, and to the west also appeared broken ridges. I
decided to travel about south-west, as it appeared the least stony. In
eight miles we had met the usual country. At eighteen we turned the
horses out for an hour on a burnt patch, during which the thermometer
stood at 94 degrees in the shade; we then left for some ridges through
a small gap or pass between two hills, which formed into a small
creek-channel. As it was now dark, we camped near the pass, without
water, having travelled thirty-five miles. In the morning we found the
country in front of us to consist of a small well grassed plain, which
was as green, as at the last camp. The horses rambled in search of
water up into a small gully, which joins this one; it had a few
gum-trees on it. We saw a place where the natives had dug for water,
but not very recently. We scratched out a lot of sand with our hands,
and some water percolated through, but the hole was too deep to get
any out for the horses, as we had no means of removing the sand,
having no shovel. Upon searching farther up the gully we found some
good-sized rock-holes, but unfortunately they were all dry. We next
ascended a hill to view the surrounding country, and endeavour to
discover if there was any feature in any direction to induce us to
visit, and where we might find a fresh supply of water. There were
several fires raging in various directions upon the southern horizon,
and the whole atmosphere was thick with a smoky haze. After a long and
anxious scrutiny through the smoke far, very far away, a little to the
west of south, I descried the outline of a range of hills, and right
in the smoke of one fire an exceedingly high and abruptly-ending
mountain loomed. To the south east-wards other ranges appeared; they
seemed to lie nearly north and south.
The high mountain was very remote; it must be at least seventy or
seventy-five miles away, with nothing apparently between but a country
similar to that immediately before and behind us; that is to say,
sandhills and scrub. I was, however, delighted to perceive any feature
for which to make as a medium point, and which might help to change
the character and monotony of the country over which I have been
wandering so long. I thought it not improbable that some extensive
watercourses may proceed from these new ranges which might lead me at
last away to the west. For the present, not being able to get water at
this little glen, although I believe a supply can be obtained with a
shovel, I decided to return to the tarn at Glen Edith, which was now
fifty-five miles away, remove the camp to the newly-found creek at the
Vale of Tempe, and then return here, open out this watering place with
a shovel, and make a straight line for the newly-discovered high
mountain to the south. By the time these conclusions had been arrived
at, and our wanderings about the rocks completed, it was nearly
midday; and as we had thirty-five miles to travel to get back to the
creek, it took us all the remainder of the day to do so; and it was
late when we again encamped upon its friendly banks. The thermometer
to-day had stood at 96 degrees. We now had our former tracks to return
upon to the tarn. The morning was cool and pleasant, and we arrived at
the depot early. Alec Robinson informed me that he believed some
natives had been prowling about the camp in our absence, as the little
dog had been greatly perturbed during two of the nights we were away.
It was very possible that some natives had come to the tarn for water,
as well as to spy out who and what and how many vile and wicked
intruders had found their way into this secluded spot; but as they
must have walked about on the rocks they left no traces of their
visit.
OCTOBER 15TH.
This morning's meal was to be the last we should make at our friendly
little tarn, whose opportune waters, ripe figs, miniature mountains,
and imitation fortresses, will long linger in my recollection.
Opposite the rocks in which the water lies, and opposite the camp
also, is a series of small fort-like stony eminences, standing apart;
these form one side of the glen; the other is formed by the rocks at
the base of the main ridge, where the camp and water are situated.
This really was a most delightful little spot, though it certainly had
one great nuisance, which is almost inseparable from pine-trees,
namely ants. These horrid pests used to crawl into and over everything
and everybody, by night as well as by day. The horses took their last
drink at the little sweet-watered tarn, and we moved away for our new
home to the south.