The Rebecca.
The Petermann range.
Extraordinary place.
The Docker.
Livingstone's Pass.
A park.
Wall-like hills.
The Ruined Rampart.
Pink, green, and blue water.
Park-like scenery.
The Hull.
A high cone.
Sugar-loaf Peak.
Pretty hills and grassy valleys.
Name several features.
A wild Parthenius.
Surprise a tribe of natives.
An attack.
Mount Olga in view.
Overtaken by the enemy.
Appearance of Mount Olga.
Breakfast interrupted.
Escape by flight.
The depot.
Small circles of stone.
Springs.
Mark a tree.
Slaughter Terrible Billy.
A smoke signal.
Trouble in collecting the horses.
A friendly conference.
Leave Sladen Water.
Fort McKellar.
Revisit the Circus.
The west end of the range.
Name two springs.
The country towards the other ranges eastwards appeared poor and
scrubby. We went first to a hill a good deal south of east, and
crossed the dry bed of a broad, sandy, and stony creek running north.
I called it the Rebecca. From it we went to a low saddle between two
hills, all the while having a continuous range to the north; this was
the extension beyond the pinnacle of the wall-like crescent. A
conspicuous mount in this northern line I called Mount Sargood*. From
this saddle we saw a range of hills which ran up from the south-west,
and, extending now eastwards, formed a valley nearly in front of us. I
called this new feature the Petermann Range. In it, a peculiar notch
existed, to which we went. This new range was exceedingly wall-like
and very steep, having a serrated ridge all along; I found the notch
to be only a rough gully, and not a pass. We continued along the
range, and at four miles farther we came to a pass where two high
hills stood apart, and allowed an extremely large creek--that is to
say, an extremely wide one--whose trend was northerly, to come
through. Climbing one of the hills, I saw that the creek came from the
south-west, and was here joined by another from the south-east. There
was an exceedingly fine and pretty piece of park-like scenery,
enclosed almost entirely by hills, the Petermann Range forming a kind
of huge outside wall, which enclosed a mass of lower hills to the
south, from which these two creeks find their sources. This was a very
extraordinary place; I searched in vain in the pass for water, and
could not help wondering where such a watercourse could go to. The
creek I called the Docker*. The pass and park just within it I called
Livingstone Pass and Learmonth* Park. Just outside the pass,
northerly, was a high hill I called Mount Skene*.
(ILLUSTRATION: VIEW ON THE PETERMANN RANGE.)
Finding no water in the pass, we went to the more easterly of the two
creeks; it was very small compared with the Docker. It was now dusk,
and we had to camp without water. The day was hot. This range is most
singular in construction; it rises on either side almost
perpendicularly, and does not appear to have very much water about it;
the hills indeed seem to be mere walls, like the photographs of some
of the circular ranges of mountains in the moon. There was very fine
grass, and our horses stayed well. We had thunder and lightning, and
the air became a little cooled. The creek we were on appeared to rise
in some low hills to the south; though it meandered about so much, it
was only by travelling, we found that it came from a peculiar ridge,
upon whose top was a fanciful-looking, broken wall or rampart, with a
little pinnacle on one side. When nearly abreast, south, of this
pinnacle, we found some water in the creek-bed, which was now very
stony. The water was impregnated with ammonia from the excreta of
emus, dogs, birds, beasts, and fishes, but the horses drank it with
avidity. Above this we got some sweet water in rocks and sand. I
called the queer-looking wall the Ruined Rampart. There was a quantity
of different kinds of water, some tasting of ammonia, some saltish,
and some putrid. A few ducks flew up from these strange ponds. There
was an overhanging ledge and cave, which gave us a good shade while we
remained here, the morning being very hot. I called these MacBain's*
Springs.
Following the creek, we found in a few miles that it took its rise in
a mass of broken table-lands to the south. We still had the high walls
of the Petermann to the north, and very close to us. In five miles we
left this water-shed, and descended the rough bed of another creek
running eastwards; it also had some very queer water in it--there were
pink, green, and blue holes. Ducks were also here; but as we had no
gun, we could not get any. Some sweet water was procured by scratching
in the sand. This creek traversed a fine piece of open grassy
country--a very park-like piece of scenery; the creek joined another,
which we reached in two or three miles. The new creek was of enormous
width; it came from the low hills to the south and ran north, where
the Petermann parted to admit of its passage. The natives were burning
the country through the pass. Where on earth can it go? No doubt water
exists in plenty at its head, and very likely where the natives are
also; but there was none where we struck it. I called this the Hull*.
The main range now ran on in more disconnected portions than formerly;
their general direction was 25 degrees south of east. We still had a
mass of low hills to the south. We continued to travel under the lea
of the main walls, and had to encamp without water, having travelled
twenty-five miles from the Ruined Rampart. A high cone in the range I
called Mount Curdie*. The next morning I ascended the eastern end of
Mount Curdie. A long way off, over the tops of other hills, I could
see a peak bearing 27 degrees south of east; this I supposed was, as
it ought to be, the Sugar-loaf Hill, south westward from Mount Olga,
and mentioned previously. To the north there was a long wall-like line
stretching across the horizon, ending about north-east; this appeared
to be a disconnected range, apparently of the same kind as this, and
having gaps or passes to allow watercourses to run through; I called
it Blood's Range. I could trace the Hull for many miles, winding away
a trifle west of north. It is evident that there must exist some
gigantic basin into which the Rebecca, the Docker, and the Hull, and
very likely several more further east, must flow. I feel morally sure
that the Lake Amadeus of my former journey must be the receptacle into
which these creeks descend, and if there are creeks running into the
lake from the south, may there not also be others running in, from the
north and west? The line of the southern hills, connected with the
Petermann wall, runs across the bearing of the Sugar-loaf, so that I
shall have to pass over or through them to reach it. The outer walls
still run on in disconnected groups, in nearly the same direction as
the southern hills, forming a kind of back wall all the way.
Starting away from our dry encampment, in seven miles we came to where
the first hills of the southern mass approached our line of march.
They were mostly disconnected, having small grassy valleys lying
between them, and they were festooned with cypress pines, and some
pretty shrubs, presenting also many huge bare rocks, and being very
similar country to that described at Ayers Range, through which I
passed in August. Here, however, the rocks were not so rounded and did
not present so great a resemblance to turtles. At two miles we reached
a small creek with gum timber, and obtained water by digging. The
fluid was rather brackish, but our horses were very glad of it, and we
gave them a couple of hours' rest. I called this Louisa's Creek. A
hill nearly east of Mount Curdie I called Mount Fagan; another still
eastward of that I called Mount Miller. At five miles from Louisa's
Creek we struck another and much larger one, running to the north; and
upon our right hand, close to the spot at which we struck it, was a
rocky gorge, through and over which the waters must tumble with a
deafening roar in times of flood. Just now the water was not running,
but a quantity was lodged among the sand under the huge boulders that
fill up the channel. I called this the Chirnside*. A hill in the main
range eastward of Mount Miller I called Mount Bowley. At ten miles
from Louisa's Creek we camped at another and larger watercourse than
the Chirnside, which I called the Shaw*. All these watercourses ran up
north, the small joining the larger ones--some independently, but all
going to the north. Crossing two more creeks, we were now in the midst
of a broken, pine-clad, hilly country, very well grassed and very
pretty; the hills just named were on the north, and low hills on the
south. Ever since we entered the Livingstone Pass, we have traversed
country which is remarkably free from the odious triodia. Travelling
along in the cool of the next morning through this "wild Parthenius,
tossing in waves of pine," we came at six miles along our course
towards the Sugar-loaf, to a place where we surprised some natives
hunting. Their wonderfully acute perceptions of sight, sound, and
scent almost instantly apprised them of our presence, and as is usual
with these persons, the most frantic yells rent the air. Signal fires
were immediately lighted in all directions, in order to collect the
scattered tribe, and before we had gone a mile we were pursued by a
multitude of howling demons. A great number came running after us,
making the most unearthly noises, screeching, rattling their spears
and other weapons, with the evident intention of not letting us depart
out of their coasts. They drew around so closely and so thick, that
they prevented our horses from going on, and we were compelled to get
out our revolvers for immediate use; we had no rifles with us. A
number from behind threw a lot of spears; we were obliged to let the
pack-horse go--one spear struck him and made him rush and jump about.
This drew their attention from us for a moment; then, just as another
flight of spears was let fly at us, we plunged forward on our horses,
and fired our revolvers. I was horrified to find that mine would not
go off, something was wrong with the cartridges, and, though I snapped
it four times, not a single discharge took place. Fortunately Mr.
Tietkens's went off all right, and what with that, and the pack-horse
rushing wildly about, trying to get up to us, we drove the wretches
off, for a time at least. They seemed far more alarmed at the horses
than at us, of whom they did not seem to have any fear whatever. We
induced them to retire for a bit, and we went on, after catching the
packhorse and breaking about forty of their spears. I believe a wild
Australian native would almost as soon be killed as have his spears
destroyed. The country was now much rougher, the little grassy valleys
having ceased, and we had to take to the hills.
(ILLUSTRATION: ATTACK AT THE FARTHEST EAST.)
While travelling along here we saw, having previously heard its
rustle, one of those very large iguanas which exist in this part of
the country. We had heard tales of their size and ferocity from the
natives near the Peake (Telegraph Station); I believe they call them
Parenties. The specimen we saw to-day was nearly black, and from head
to tail over five feet long. I should very much have liked to catch
him; he would make two or three good meals for both of us.
Occasionally we got a glimpse of the Sugar-loaf. At nine miles from
where we had encountered the enemy, we came to a bold, bare, rounded
hill, and on ascending it, we saw immediately below us, that this
hilly country ceased immediately to the east, but that it ran on
south-easterly. Two or three small creeks were visible below, then a
thick scrubby region set in, bounded exactly to the east by Mount Olga
itself, which was sixty miles away. There was a large area of bare
rock all about this hill, and in a crevice we got a little water and
turned our horses out. While we were eating our dinner, Mr. Tietkens
gave the alarm that the enemy was upon us again, and instantly we
heard their discordant cries. The horses began to gallop off in
hobbles. These wretches now seemed determined to destroy us, for,
having considerably augmented their numbers, they swarmed around us on
all sides. Two of our new assailants were of commanding stature, each
being nearly tall enough to make two of Tietkens if not of me. These
giants were not, however, the most forward in the onslaught. The
horses galloped off a good way, with Tietkens running after them: in
some trepidation lest my revolver should again play me false, though
of course I had cleaned and re-loaded it, I prepared to defend the
camp. The assailants immediately swarmed round me, those behind
running up, howling, until the whole body were within thirty yards of
me; then they came on more slowly. I could now see that aggression on
my part was the only thing for it; I must try to carry the situation
with a coup. I walked up to them very fast and pointed my revolver at
them. Some, thinking I was only pointing my finger, pointed their
fingers at me. They all had their spears ready and quivering in their
wommerahs, and I am sure I should in another instant have been
transfixed with a score or two of spears, had not Mr. Tietkens, having
tied up the horses, come running up, which caused a moment's
diversion, and both our revolvers going off properly this time, we
made our foes retreat at a better pace than they had advanced. Some of
their spears were smashed in their hands; most of them dropped
everything they carried, and went scudding away over the rocks as fast
as fear and astonishment would permit. We broke all the spears we
could lay our hands on, nearly a hundred, and then finished our
dinner.
I would here remark that the natives of Australia have two kinds of
spears--namely, the game- and the war-spear. The game-spear is a
thick, heavy implement, barbed with two or three teeth, entirely made
of wood, and thrown by the hand. These are used in stalking large
game, such as emus, kangaroos, etc., when the hunter sneaks on the
quarry, and, at a distance of forty to fifty yards, transfixes it,
though he may not just at the moment kill the animal, it completely
retards its progress, and the hunter can then run it to earth. The
war-spears are different and lighter, the hinder third of them being
reed, the other two-thirds mulga wood; they are barbed, and thrown
with a wommerah, to a distance up to 150 yards, and are sometimes ten
feet long.
After our meal we found a better supply of water in a creek about two
miles southward, where there was both a rock reservoir and sand water.
We had now come about 130 miles from Sladen Water, and had found
waters all the way; Mount Olga was again in sight. The question was,
is the water there permanent? Digging would be of no avail there, it
is all solid rock; either the water is procured on the surface or
there is none. I made this trip to the east, not with any present
intention of retreat, but to discover whether there was a line of
waters to retreat upon, and to become acquainted with as much country
as possible.
(ILLUSTRATION: MOUNT OLGA, FROM SIXTY MILES TO THE WEST.)
The sight of Mount Olga, and the thoughts of retreating to the east,
acted like a spur to drive me farther to the west; we therefore turned
our backs upon Mount Olga and the distant east. I named this gorge,
where we found a good supply of water, Glen Robertson*, and the creek
that comes from it, Casterton Creek. Mount Olga, as I said, bore
nearly due east; its appearance from here, which we always called the
farthest east, was most wonderful and grotesque. It seemed like five
or six enormous pink hay-stacks, leaning for support against one
another, with open cracks or fissures between, which came only about
half-way down its face. I am sure this is one of the most
extraordinary geographical features on the face of the earth, for, as
I have said, it is composed of several enormous rounded stone shapes,
like the backs of several monstrous kneeling pink elephants. At sixty
miles to the west its outline is astonishing. The highest point of
all, which is 1500 feet above the surrounding country, looked at from
here, presents the appearance of a gigantic pink damper, or Chinese
gong viewed edgeways, and slightly out of the perpendicular. We did
not return to the scene of our fight and our dinner, but went about
two miles northerly beyond it, when we had to take to the rough hills
again; we had to wind in and out amongst these, and in four miles
struck our outgoing tracks. We found the natives had followed us up
step by step, and had tried to stamp the marks of the horses' hoofs
out of the ground with their own. They had walked four or five
abreast, and consequently made a path more easy for us to remark. We
saw them raising puffs of smoke behind us, but did not anticipate any
more annoyance from them. We pushed on till dark, to the spot where we
had met them in the morning; here we encamped without water.
Before daylight I went for the horses, while Mr. Tietkens got the swag
and things ready to start away. I returned, tied up the horses, and we
had just begun to eat the little bit of damper we had for breakfast,
when Mr. Tietkens, whose nervous system seems particularly alive to
any native approach, gave the alarm, that our pursuers were again upon
us, and we were again saluted with their hideous outcries. Breakfast
was now a matter of minor import; instantly we slung everything on to
the horses, and by the time that was done we were again surrounded. I
almost wished we had only one of our rifles which we had left at home.
We could do nothing with such an insensate, insatiable mob of wretches
as these; as a novelist would say, we flung ourselves into our saddles
as fast as we could, and fairly gave our enemies the slip, through the
speed of our horses, they running after us like a pack of yelping
curs, in maddening bray. The natives ran well for a long distance,
nearly three miles, but the pace told on them at last and we
completely distanced them. Had we been unsuccessful in finding water
in this region and then met these demons, it is more than probable we
should never have escaped. I don't sigh to meet them again; the great
wonder was that they did not sneak upon and spear us in the night, but
the fact of our having a waterless encampment probably deterred them.
We kept at a good pace till we reached the Chirnside, and gave our
horses a drink, but went on twenty miles to Louisa's Creek before we
rested. We only remained here an hour. We saw no more of our enemies,
but pushed on another twenty-two miles, till we reached the Hull,
where we could find no water.
On the subject of the natives, I may inform my reader that we often
see places at native camps where the ground has been raised for many
yards, like a series of babies' graves; these are the sleeping-places
of the young and unmarried men, they scoop the soil out of a place and
raise it up on each side: these are the bachelors' beds--twenty,
thirty, and forty are sometimes seen in a row; on top of each raised
portion of soil two small fires are kept burning in lieu of blankets.
Some tribes have their noses pierced, others not. Some have front
teeth knocked out, and others not. In some tribes only women have
teeth knocked out.
Our supply of food now consisted of just sufficient flour to make two
small Johnny-cakes, and as we still had over eighty miles to go, we
simply had to do without any food all day, and shall have precisely
the same quantity to-morrow--that is to say, none. In eleven or twelve
miles next morning we reached the caves near the Ruined Rampart, where
we rested and allowed the horses to feed. At night we camped again
without food or water. The morning after, we reached Gill's Pinnacle
early, and famished enough to eat each other. We mixed up, cooked, and
ate our small remnant of flour. The last two days have been reasonably
cool; anything under 100 degrees is cool in this region. We found that
during our absence the natives had placed a quantity of gum-leaves and
small boughs into the interstices of the small mounds of stone, or as
I call them, teocallis, which I mentioned previously; this had
evidently been done so soon as we departed, for they were now dead and
dry. After bathing, remounting, we made good another twenty miles, and
camped in triodia and casuarina sandhills. We reached the camp at the
pass by nine a.m. on the 19th, having been absent ten days. Gibson and
Jimmy were there certainly, and nothing had gone wrong, but these two
poor fellows looked as pale as ghosts. Gibson imagined we had gone to
the west, and was much perturbed by our protracted absence.
The water in the open holes did not agree with either Gibson or Jimmy,
and, when starting, I had shown them where to dig for a spring of
fresh water, and where I had nearly got a horse bogged one day when I
rode there, to see what it was like. They had not, however, made the
slightest effort to look for or dig it out. I gave them the last of
our medical spirits, only half a bottle of rum, at starting. They had
shot plenty of parrots and pigeons, and one or two ducks; but, now
that the ammunition is all but gone, a single shot is of the greatest
consideration. We have only a few pounds of flour, and a horse we must
kill, in order to live ourselves. A few finishing touches to the
smoke-house required doing; this Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy went to do,
while Gibson and I cut up a tarpaulin to make large water-bags, and
with a small lot of new canvas made four pairs of water-bags that
would hold seven to eight gallons each. These, when greased with horse
fat or oil, ought to enable me to get out some distance from the
western extremity of this range. Poor old Terrible Billy came to water
early, and I was much pleased with his appearance, but his little
house not being quite ready and the bags not completed, he has a day
or so longer of grace. I had looked forward eagerly to the time of the
autumnal equinox, in hopes of rain. But all we got, however, was three
dry thunderstorms and a few drops of rain, which fell upon us en route
to some more favoured land. The next day being Sunday, we had a day of
rest.
Near the place to which I had been dragged, there were several little
heaps of stones, or rather, as a general rule, small circles of
piled-up stones removed from where they had formerly lain, with the
exception of a solitary one left in the centre. For what purpose the
natives could have made or cleared these places I cannot tell; they
were reserved for some ceremonies, no doubt, like those at Gill's
Pinnacle. The last few days have been very cool, the thermometer
indicating one day only 78 degrees in the shade. On the 25th Gibson
took the shovel to open out the springs formerly mentioned; they lie
in the midst of several little clumps of young eucalyptus suckers, the
ground all round being a morass, in which a man might almost sink,
were it not for the thick growth of rushes. The water appears to flow
over several acres of ground, appearing and disappearing in places.
The moment a small space was cleared of the rushes, it became evident
that the water was perpetually flowing, and we stood on rushes over
our ankles in black soil. Gibson dug a small tank, and the water soon
cleared for itself a beautiful little crystal basin of the purest
liquid, much more delicious and wholesome than the half brackish water
in the bed of the creek. These springs have their origin at the foot
of the hill on the eastern side of this pass, and percolate into the
creek-bed, where the water becomes impregnated with salt or soda. The
water in the open holes in the creek-bed is always running; I thought
the supply came from up the creek--now, however, I find it comes from
these fresh-water springs. I branded a tree in this pass E. Giles with
date.
On the 25th March the plump but old and doomed Terrible Billy
confidingly came to water at eleven o'clock at night. He took his last
drink, and was led a captive to the camp, where he was tied up all
night. The old creature looked remarkably well, and when tied up close
to the smoke-house--innocent, unsuspecting creature of what the craft
and subtilty of the devil or man might work against him--he had begun
to eat a bunch or two of grass, when a rifle bullet crashing through
his forehead terminated his existence. There was some little fat about
him; it took some time to cut up the meat into strips, which were hung
on sticks and placed in tiers in the pyramidal smoke-house.
We had a fine supper of horse-steaks, which we relished amazingly.
Terrible Billy tasted much better than the cob we had killed at
Elder's Creek. What fat there was on the inside was very yellow, and
so soft it would not harden at all. With a very fat horse a salvage of
fat might be got on portions of the meat, but nearly every particle of
the fat drips into oil. The smoke-house is now the object of our
solicitude; a column of smoke ascends from the immolated Billy night
and day. Our continual smoke induced some natives to make their
appearance, but they kept at a very respectful distance, coming no
nearer than the summit of the hills, on either side of the pass, from
whence they had a good bird's-eye view of our proceedings. They
saluted us with a few cheers, i.e. groans, as they watched us from
their observatory.
The weather is now beautifully cool, fine, and clear. We had now
finished smoking Terrible Billy who still maintained his name, for he
was terribly tough. I intended to make an attempt to push westward
from the end of this range, and all we required was the horses to
carry us away; but getting them was not the easiest thing in the
world, for they were all running loose. Although they have to come to
the pass to get water, there is water for more than a mile, and some
come sneaking quietly down without making the slightest noise, get a
drink, and then, giving a snort of derision to let us know, off they
go at a gallop. They run in mobs of twos and threes; so now we have
systematically to watch for, catch, and hobble them. I set a watch
during the night, and as they came, they were hobbled and put down
through the north side of the pass. They could not get back past the
camp without the watchman both hearing and seeing them; for it was now
fine moonlight the greater part of the night. We had ten or twelve
horses, but only two came to-night for water, and these got away
before we could catch them, as two of the party let them drink before
catching them. None came in the day, and only two the next night;
these we caught, hobbled, and put with the others, which were always
trying to get back past the camp, so to-night I had a horse saddled to
be sure of catching any that came, and keeping those we had. During my
watch, the second, several horses tried to pass the camp. I drove them
back twice, and had no more trouble with them; but in the morning,
when we came to muster them, every hoof was gone. Of course nobody had
let them go! Every other member of the party informed me that they
were ready to take their dying oaths that the horses never got away in
their watches, and that neither of them had any trouble whatever in
driving them back, etc.; so I could only conclude that I must have let
them all go myself, because, as they were gone, and nobody else let
them go, why, of course, I suppose I must. After breakfast Mr.
Tietkens went to try to recover them, but soon returned, informing me
he had met a number of natives at the smoke-house, who appeared very
peaceably inclined, and who were on their road down through the pass.
This was rather unusual; previous to our conflict they had never come
near us, and since that, they had mostly given us a wide berth, and
seemed to prefer being out of the reach of our rifles than otherwise.
They soon appeared, although they kept away on the east side of the
creek. They then shouted, and when I cooeyed and beckoned them to
approach, they sat down in a row. I may here remark that the word
cooey, as representing the cry of all Australian aborigines, belonged
originally to only one tribe or region, but it has been carried about
by whites from tribe to tribe, and is used by the civilised and
semi-civilised races; but wild natives who have never seen whites use
no such cry. There were thirteen of these men. Mr. Tietkens and I went
over to them, and we had quite a friendly conference. Their leader was
an individual of a very uncertain age--he might have been forty, or he
might have been eighty (in the shade). (This was written some time
before the "Mikado" appeared.--E.G.) His head was nearly bald on the
crown, but some long grizzly locks depended below the bald patch.
The others were generally much younger, but some of them, though not
clean past their youth, yet had about them some smacks of the saltness
of age. The old man was the most self-possessed; the others displayed
a nervous tremor at our approach; those nearest us sidled closer to
their more remote and, as they no doubt thought, fortunate fellows;
they were all extremely ill-favoured in face, but their figures were
not so outres, except that they appeared emaciated and starved,
otherwise they would have been men of good bulk. Their legs were
straight, and their height would average five feet nine inches, all
being much taller than Mr. Tietkens or I. Two remained at a distance;
these had a great charge to superintend, it being no less than that of
the trained wild dogs belonging to the tribe. There were three large
dogs, two of a light sandy, and one of a kind of German colley colour.
These natives were armed with an enormous number of light barbed
spears, each having about a dozen. They do not appear to use the
boomerang very generally in this part of the continent, although we
have occasionally picked up portions of old ones in our travels. Mr.
Tietkens gave each of these natives a small piece of sugar, with which
they seemed perfectly charmed, and in consequence patted the seat of
their intellectual--that is to say, digestive--organs with great
gusto, as the saccharine morsels liquefied in their mouths. They
seemed highly pleased with the appearance and antics of my little dog,
who both sat and stood up at command in the midst of them.
They kept their own dogs away, I presume, for fear we might want to
seize them for food--wild dog standing in about the same relation to a
wild Australian native, as a sheep would to a white man. They eat all
the grown dogs they can catch, but keep a few pups to train for
hunting, and wonderful hunting dogs they are. Hence their fear of our
taking their pets. The old gentleman was much delighted with my watch.
I then showed them some matches, and the instantaneous ignition of
some grass in the midst of them was rather too startling a phenomenon
for their weak minds; some of them rose to depart. The old man,
however, reassured them. I presented him with several matches, and
showed him how to use them; he was very much pleased, and having no
pockets in his coat--for I might have previously remarked they were
arrayed in Nature's simple garb--he stuck them in his hair. Mr.
Tietkens, during this time, was smoking, and the sight of smoke
issuing from his mouth seemed to disturb even the old man's assumed
imperturbability, and he kept much closer to me in consequence. I next
showed them a revolver, and tried to explain the manner of using it.
Most of them repeated the word bang when I said it; but when I fired
it off they were too agitated to take much notice of its effect on the
bark of a tree, which might otherwise have served to point a moral or
adorn a tale in the oral traditions of their race for ever. At the
report of the revolver all rose and seemed in haste to go, but I would
not allow my dear old friend to depart without a few last friendly
expressions. One of these natives was pitted with small-pox. They
seemed to wish to know where we were going, and when I pointed west,
and by shaking my fingers intimated a long way, many of them pulled
their beards and pointed to us, and the old man gave my beard a slight
pull and pointed west; this I took to signify that they were aware
that other white people like us lived in that direction. The
conference ended, and they departed over the hills on the east side of
the pass, but it was two hours before they disappeared.
All the horses which had escaped in hobbles the other night now came
to water, and were put through the pass again. During the day we
secured the remainder, and had them altogether at last. It was noon of
the 7th April when we left this delectable pass, again en route for
the west, hoping to see Sladen Water and the Pass of the Abencerrages
no more. At fourteen miles we were delayed by Banks, carrying my
boxes, as a strap broke, and he set to work to free himself of
everything. Fortunately, one box with the instruments, quicksilver,
etc., remained firm; everything got bucked and kicked out of the
other; buckskin gloves, matches, mineral collection, rifle cartridges,
bottles of medicine, eye-water, socks, specimens of plants, etc., all
sent flying about in the thick triodia, for the brute went full gallop
all round the mob of horses, trying to get rid of the other box and
his saddle. In spite of all his efforts they remained, and it was
wonderful how many things we recovered, though some were lost. By this
time it was dusk, and the evening set in very cool. I now intended to
encamp at the fine spring I named Fort McKellar, four miles east of
the Gorge of Tarns. There was a fine and heavy clump of eucalyptus
timber there, and a very convenient and open sheet of water for the
use of the camp. I had always looked upon this as an excellent and
desirable spot for an encampment, though we had never used it yet. The
grass, however, is neither good nor abundant; the country around being
stony and sterile, except down the immediate valley of the channel,
which was not wide enough to graze a mob of horses for long. We
reached it again on the 9th of April.
My reader will remember that in January I had found a creek with a
large, rocky tarn of water, which I called the Circus; it was the last
westerly water on the range, and I was anxious to know how it was
holding out, as it must be our point of departure for any farther
efforts to the west. It was twenty miles from here, and Gibson and I
rode up the range to inspect it. On our road we revisited the Gorge of
Tarns; the water there had shrunk very much. Here we had left some
useless articles, such as three pack-saddle frames, a broken
thermometer, and sundry old gear; all these things the natives had
carried away. I had a good swim in the old tarn, and proceeded,
reaching the Circus early in the afternoon. There was the solitary
eagle still perched upon its rock. The water had become greatly
reduced; ten weeks and two days had elapsed since I was here; and in
another fortnight it would all be gone. If I intend doing anything
towards the west it must be done at once or it will be too late. The
day was warm--102 degrees. A large flock of galars, a slate-coloured
kind of cockatoo, and a good talking bird, and hundreds of pigeons
came to water at night; but having no ammunition, we did not bring a
gun. The water was so low in the hole that the horses could not reach
it, and had to be watered with a canvas bucket. I have said
previously, that at the extremity of this range there lay an ancient
lake bed, but I had only been a mile or two upon it. Further on there
were indications of salt, and as we were quite out of that commodity,
we rode over to try and procure some, but none existed, and we had to
be satisfied with a quantity of samphire bushes and salt-bush leaves,
which we took home with us, returning to Fort McKellar the following
day. I called the salt feature Lake Christopher. We remained at the
depot for a day or two, preparing for a start to the west, and cut
rails, and fixed up some palisading for the fort. I delayed entering
that evidently frightful bed of sand which lay to the west, in hopes
of a change, for I must admit I dreaded to attempt the western country
while the weather was still so hot and oppressive. Though the
thermometer may not appear to rise extraordinarily high in this
region, yet the weight and pressure of the atmosphere is sometimes
almost overpowering. Existence here is in a permanent state of
languor, and I am sure the others in the party feel it more than I do,
being consumed with the fire or frenzy of renown for opening unknown
lands, all others have to pale their ineffectual fires before it. No
doubt, not being well fed is some cause for our feelings of lassitude.
The horses are also affected with extreme languor, as well as the men.
The thermometer to-day registered only 99 degrees. The horses are
always trying to roam away back to Sladen Water, and Mr. Tietkens and
I had a walk of many miles after them to-day. I was getting really
anxious about the water at the Circus. I scarcely dare to grapple with
that western desert in such weather, yet, if I do not, I shall lose
the Circus water.
Although we were near the change of the moon, I despaired of a change
of weather. I did not ask for rain, for it would be useless on the
desert sands; I only wanted the atmosphere to become a little less
oppressive. I had not been round the extreme western end of the range,
though we had been to it, and I thought perhaps some creek might be
found to contain a good rock-hole, perhaps as far to the west, if not
farther, than the Circus; on the opposite side of the range, Mr.
Tietkens and Gibson, who volunteered, went to see what they could
discover, also to visit the Circus so as to report upon it. Jimmy and
I remained and erected some more woodwork--that is to say, rails and
uprights--for the fort. We walked over to re-inspect--Jimmy had not
seen them--two glens and springs lying within a couple of miles to the
east of us, the first being about three-quarters of a mile off. I now
named it Tyndall's Springs. Here a fine stream of running water
descends much further down the channel than at any other spring in the
range, though it spreads into no open sheets of water as at the depot;
there was over a mile of running water. The channel is thickly set
with fine tall bulrushes. There is a very fine shady clump of
gum-trees here, close to the base of the range. The next spring, about
a mile farther east, I called Groener's Springs; it had not such a
strong flow of water, but the trees in the clump at the head of it
were much larger and more numerous than at the last. Some of the
trees, as was the case at Fort McKellar, were of very considerable
size. Late at night Mr. Tietkens and Gibson returned, and reported
that, although they had discovered a new rock-hole with seven or eight
feet of water in it, it was utterly useless; for no horses could get
within three-quarters of a mile of it, and they had been unable to
water their horses, having had to do so at the Circus. They said the
water there was holding out well; but Gibson said it had diminished a
good deal since he and I were there a week ago. On the 19th April I
told the party it was useless to delay longer, and that I had made up
my mind to try what impression a hundred miles would make on the
country to the west. I had waited and waited for a change, not to say
rain, and it seemed as far off as though the month were November,
instead of April. I might still keep on waiting, until every ounce of
our now very limited supply of rations was gone. We were now, and had
been since Billy was killed, living entirely on smoked horse; we only
had a few pounds of flour left, which I kept in case of sickness; the
sugar was gone; only a few sticks of tobacco for Mr. Tietkens and
Gibson--Jimmy and I not smoking--remained. I had been disappointed at
the Charlotte Waters at starting, by not being able to get my old
horse, and had started from the Alberga, lacking him and the 200
pounds of flour he would have carried--a deficiency which considerably
shortened my intended supply. A comparatively enormous quantity of
flour had been lost by the continual rippings of bags in the scrubs
farther south, and also a general loss in weight of nearly ten per
cent., from continual handling of the bags, and evaporation. We had
supplemented our supplies in a measure at Fort Mueller and the Pass,
with pigeons and wallabies, as long as our ammunition lasted, and now
it was done. When I made known my intention, Gibson immediately
volunteered to accompany me, and complained of having previously been
left so often and so long in the camp. I much preferred Mr. Tietkens,
as I felt sure the task we were about to undertake was no ordinary
one, and I knew Mr. Tietkens was to be depended upon to the last under
any circumstances, but, to please Gibson, he waived his right, and,
though I said nothing, I was not at all pleased.