CAPTAIN STURT'S THREE EXPEDITIONS.
The next hero that steps to the front is Charles Sturt, captain of the
39th regiment, which was stationed at Sydney in the early days of our
history. He stands, beyond all question, in the first rank of Australian
explorers. His single compeer, Sir Thomas Mitchell, was more fortunate
in discovery, but it may be doubted whether he excelled Captain Sturt in
real capability for this work. The future historian will probably decide
the rival claims by bracketing the two names as holding a joint first in
Australian exploration. Naturally brave, resolute, and patient in
labour, Sturt was, moreover, a man of varied culture and extensive
scientific acquirements. As an officer in the army he had been
accustomed to command, and at no time did he experience any difficulty
in managing the several exploring parties under his charge, although
they were mostly drawn from the ordinary convict element at Port
Jackson. This influence over others may have been due to natural tact
even more than to acquired habit, but in either case it proved a
valuable qualification, and served him in good stead with the native
population as well as with his own men. His heroism often brought him
into situations of extreme peril, being sometimes environed with savages
well armed and out of all proportion to the number of his own men; but
his adroitness never failed to extricate himself and party from the most
imminent danger. Scarcely any of our explorers opened up so much of the
interior, or so frequently came into contact with savage tribes, and yet
his humane disposition preserved him all through his career from
shedding the blood of a single individual of that unhappy race which
others, with less excuse, have not scrupled to shoot down like dogs.
When stooping under the weight of years, with a constitution enfeebled
by heroic exertions, and so afflicted with blindness as to be unable to
finish his narrative without the aid of an amanuensis, the veteran
explorer devoutly thanked God that, amid all his critical encounters and
hair-breadth escapes, he had been saved from the necessity of shedding a
drop of blood from the veins of the Australian aborigines.
I.
As early as the year 1818 the Macquarie River had been explored as far
as practicable by John Oxley, the Surveyor-General. This indefatigable
traveller had traced its course into the far interior till it seemed
lost and appeared to terminate in a series of swamps, overgrown with
dense reeds. All his efforts to proceed further westward proved
unavailing, and he turned aside to other work, being under the
impression that he had seen all that was visible of the Macquarie. Like
some others of his time, Oxley had taken up with the idea of a
mediterranean sea which was supposed to cover the interior of Australia;
and such being his opinion, it was natural to fancy he had reached its
margin in those swamps of seemingly indefinite extent into which the
Macquarie poured its flood. During the next ten years Cunningham had
pushed as far north as the Darling Downs, while Hume and Hovell had been
equally successful in forcing their way south to Port Phillip; but out
west no progress was made beyond the goal of Oxley's explorations. But
ignorance of the interior hung like a cloud over the settlement, a vague
feeling of mystery kept curiosity awake, and a general desire began to
be expressed for fresh explorations in that direction. The times, too,
which in other respects happened to be signally disastrous, appeared to
be just as favourable for such an enterprise. A drought of several
years' standing was then devastating the colony; but this misfortune,
which brought ruin to the doors of so many settlers, seemed, strangely
enough, to be a strong recommendation to start an exploring expedition.
It had been Oxley's misfortune to examine the country during an
exceptionally wet season, and it was conjectured that floods had laid
under water the low-lying country on the further reaches of the
Macquarie, and thus interposed a temporary obstruction to the westward
advance of exploration. But now, after a drought of long standing, it
was hoped that the swamps, if not dried up, would at least be so much
reduced as to render the much-desired object more likely to be
accomplished.
Governor Darling, accordingly, determined on sending out another
expedition. In the all-important question of a leader, he was singularly
fortunate in selecting Captain Sturt. The latter took as his associates
Mr. Hamilton Hume, who had already gained his own laurels in
exploration, Staff-Surgeon M'Leod, two soldiers, and eight convicts. The
instructions received from headquarters were, generally, to follow up
the discoveries of Oxley, to endeavour to ascertain the "fate" of the
Macquarie, and to put forth the utmost effort to penetrate westward to
the furthest possible limit.
All the material requisites for the expedition were forwarded to
Wellington Valley, which at that time was the outpost of civilization
toward the west, and Sturt was instructed to form his depôt at Mount
Harris, which had been Oxley's most advanced encampment ten years
earlier. All preparations being made, the party left Sydney on the 10th
of September, 1828, under the command of Captain Sturt, who only a week
previously had followed the remains of Oxley to the grave. After a few
days of uneventful travelling through the settled territory, Wellington
Valley was reached, and, by the 10th of December, the explorers were
encamped at Mount Harris, the _ne plus ultra_ of their predecessors, and
near the supposed termination of the Macquarie River. Although ten years
had passed away, traces of the old camp were easily found. From the
summit of the mountain a good prospect towards the interior was
obtained, and a tolerably favourable impression left on the minds of
Sturt and Hume. The marshes were seen to be dried up in some places
altogether, and in others very much contracted, and, as the bed of the
river continued to be well defined, there did not appear to be much
difficulty in pushing the limit of discovery considerably beyond the
line at which it had stood for ten years past.
Following the course of the Macquarie for some miles westward, it was
found to enter a swamp of considerable size. As the sluggish current was
the only clue to lead them through this ambiguous tract of land and
water, it was deemed indispensable to keep to the channel at all hazards
as it meandered through the marshes. For this purpose Sturt here turned
to account a good-sized boat which had, with a wise foresight, been
provided among the travelling requisites. But their progress by water
proved to be less expeditious than it had been on the land, for the
channel wriggled like a snake, and the navigation was provokingly
hindered by snags. Gradually the course of the river became better
defined, but only to lose itself again in a labyrinth of creeks and
marshes. Puzzled and bewildered, with no hope of further progress in the
boat, Sturt and Hume resolved to make separate excursions to the right
and left, each taking his own complement of followers. Many hardships
had to be endured from heat and drought, while the results were not very
considerable. Sturt rode over 200 miles of desert country and was much
fatigued. The principal discoveries made about this time were Oxley's
Table-land and New Year's Creek, mistaken by the explorers for a branch
of the Macquarie, but which was in reality the Bogan River. Eventually
both sections of the expedition reunited and bravely struck out for the
interior, giving defiance to thirst and fatigue, and devoutly wishing
for something to turn up. They had not far to go till this desire was
realized. At a moment when they were not thinking of it, the foremost of
the party found their progress stopped on the bank of one of the
principal rivers in Australia. Its ample channel extended to seventy or
eighty yards in breadth, and its bosom was covered with wild fowl of
every wing. Almost perishing with thirst, both man and beast rushed down
the shelving bank, and in a moment were gulping down the water of the
welcome stream. Never did travellers meet with so "bitter" a
disappointment. "I shall never forget," says Sturt, "the cry of
amazement or the look of terror with which they cried out to inform me
that the river was so salt as to be unfit to drink." The cup of relief
was dashed from their lips, and they were left to the most gloomy
reflections on the future supply of this element. They conjectured, not
unnaturally, that this saline quality must be derived from near contact
with the sea, and anxiously watched for the slightest indications of a
rising or a falling tide, but to no purpose. The cause was afterwards
traced to briny springs in the river's banks, which must have been a
temporary occurrence, for the same inconvenience is not met with now.
The discovery in all other respects was clearly perceived to be of the
utmost value, and went far to annihilate the pet theory of an inland
sea, which thus kept receding further and further from human ken. It was
already evident that this noble river must play a principal part in the
drainage of the western slope of the mountain ranges, and we now know
that it forms the backbone of the river system of eastern Australia and
the highway of intercolonial commerce. Sturt, therefore, paid Governor
Darling no mean compliment in associating his name with this grand
discovery and calling it the Darling River.
The expedition now followed the lead of the River Darling for about
sixty-six miles. As the country continued to be inhospitable, the blacks
troublesome, and the supply of water precarious, it was resolved to
proceed no further in that direction. A return was accordingly made to
the depôt at Mount Harris, which was reached partly by way of New Year's
Creek, or the Bogan River, without any serious mishap being encountered.
Among the secondary instructions given to the expedition was a direction
to push northwards, if baffled and driven back from the western
interior. They had not failed in that quarter by any means, but as their
work there was finished, and a good supply of provisions left, it was
thought advisable to attempt a journey to the Castlereagh, which was
simply known to exist. In this effort they were again successful.
Having travelled by way of Morriset's Ponds, a sufficient supply of
water was obtained to help them on to the Castlereagh, where, of course,
it was expected to be abundant, seeing that Oxley had been able to cross
it after some delay and with much difficulty. But this anticipation was
doomed to disappointment. The bed of the river was found to be as dry as
dust. The explorers, after a long search, hit upon only one small pool
in the sand which yielded but a temporary supply. The Castlereagh was
now traced towards its supposed junction with the Darling for the
distance of 100 miles, 45 of which were destitute of water. But their
perseverance was rewarded with a second view of the Darling, which was
struck about 90 miles above the point where the original discovery had
been made. The stream here swarmed with fish, but was still salt and
unfit to drink. Having crossed over to the further side, a dash was made
by a short excursion into the interior, which proved, like the other
side, to be a parched wilderness. The state of the country as observed
throughout this journey is thus summed up in Sturt's narrative:--"So
long had the drought continued that the vegetable kingdom was almost
annihilated, and minor vegetation had almost disappeared. In the creeks
weeds had grown and withered and grown again, and young saplings were
now rising in their beds nourished by the moisture that still remained;
but the largest forest trees were drooping, and many were dead. The
emus, with outstretched necks, gasping for breath, searched the
channels of the river for water in vain; and the native dog, so thin
that it could hardly walk, seemed to implore some friendly hand to
despatch it. How the natives subsisted it was difficult to say, but
there was no doubt of the scarcity of food amongst them." Surely this
was no place to loiter in after the work was fairly accomplished.
Contenting themselves with the substantial discoveries already made, the
explorers resolved to return to the haunts of civilization. They soon
found themselves in the lovely Wellington Valley, from which the
expedition had been absent four months and a half. After another journey
through the settled districts, each of the weary wanderers reached his
home, no one having sustained any injury to life or limb during this
long and hazardous enterprise.
II.
Captain Sturt enjoyed but a very limited repose after the fatigues of
the Macquarie expedition. He had returned to Sydney about the beginning
of May, 1829, and in September of the same year his undying enthusiasm
was once more gratified with instructions from headquarters to get ready
for a full exploration of the Murrumbidgee. The Macquarie and the
Lachlan, terminating their respective courses in miserable swamps, or
being believed to do so, had proved delusive guides to the interior of
the continent. But the colonists were resolved to know the heart of
Australia at all hazards. It was still believed that some river must
lead thither, all previous disappointments notwithstanding. The
Murrumbidgee alone remained as an untried experiment, and the little
that was yet known of this river gave hope of a successful result. It
had been first seen by two military officers, Currie and Ovens, on their
discovery of the Monaro country in 1823, and in the year following it
was crossed with difficulty by Hume and Hovell on their journey to Port
Phillip. Here, at last, was a stream something like those of other
countries, rising in the Alpine mountain-land, and flowing with a strong
and rapid current in that direction to which the eyes of explorers were
being so anxiously turned. It was determined, therefore, to equip
another expedition, under the command of Captain Sturt, to explore its
unknown course, for the purpose of ascertaining whether it emptied
itself into an inland sea or found its way to the southern or to the
eastern coast. The party, under Sturt's leadership, consisted of Mr.
George Macleay, son of the Colonial Treasurer, Mr. Frazer, botanist, and
six others. Among other requisites a whale-boat was provided, which
eventually proved of the utmost service to the purpose in view.
The expedition left Sydney, in full force and high spirits, on the 3rd
November, 1829. Goulburn Plains were reached by the 15th, and on the
25th the Murrumbidgee was struck, not far from Jugiong. The appearance
of the stream was quite up to Sturt's expectations, but the rugged
country on its banks delayed the passage of the drays, and their
progress was not very rapid. In a little time they reached the junction
of the Dumot (Tumut) River, which considerably increased the volume of
the Murrumbidgee, and this addition was accepted as a good omen. In
their course along the river, sometimes on one side and sometimes on the
other, occasional plains were traversed, extending from 400 to 700 acres
in extent, and wholly devoid of timber. Lower down the river one of much
larger size was reached, and here the explorers were not sorry to make a
short break in the journey. The natives called this plain Pondebadgery.
Its size was three and a half by two miles, the soil being rich and the
scenery exquisite. On one side was the bend of the river, here 80 yards
wide, and abounding in fish, one of which was found to weigh 40 pounds.
Hamilton Plains were next discovered, and named after a favourite
staff-surgeon. The expedition, it was believed, had now come within 25
miles of the most southern point attained by Oxley. This notable
explorer, having reached the swamps of the Lachlan, and being thus
driven to his wits' end, resolved to strike southward and make for the
coast, but want of water determined him to return to the Lachlan, after
weeks of toilsome travel; whereas, had he only pushed on another 25
miles, the Murrumbidgee would have been discovered, and a new era opened
in Australian exploration. Sturt attempted to connect the surveys of
Oxley's expedition with his own, but was not successful. As travelling
continued to be slow and difficult, it was resolved to launch the boat
and build a skiff to convey the provisions. This was accordingly done,
some of the party being at the same time sent back to Goulburn with the
drays. Seven days having been consumed in these preparations, the
remainder of the party boldly committed themselves to the stream. Sturt
had a strong presentiment that the Murrumbidgee would join some other
river, and hoped to find it navigable for his boat during the remainder
of its course. On the following day a serious mishap occurred. The skiff
was sunk by a snag, and the provisions, after being much damaged, had to
be recovered by diving. The enterprise was a hazardous one at the best.
What with rapids at one time and snags at another, their lives on
several occasions were in real jeopardy. But the longest lane has its
turning, and this tortuous channel also had an end. On the seventh day
after taking to the boat the bed of the river became strangely
contracted, and the current so powerful that, in place of rowing, all
their strength was needed to steady the boat, which was borne along with
the swiftness of an arrow, and in another moment shot forth impetuously
into the broad reach of the finest river in Australia. "It is impossible
for me," says Sturt, "to describe the effect of so instantaneous a
change of circumstances upon us. The boats were allowed to drift along
at pleasure, and such was the force with which we had been shot out of
the Murrumbidgee that we were carried nearly to the bank opposite its
embouchure whilst we continued to gaze in silent astonishment on the
capacious channel we had entered, and when we looked for that by which
we had been led into it we could hardly believe that the insignificant
gap that presented itself to us was indeed the termination of the
beautiful stream whose course we had thus successfully followed. I can
only compare the relief we experienced to that which the seaman feels on
weathering the rock upon which he expected that his vessel would have
struck, to the calm which succeeds moments of feverish anxiety, when the
dread of danger is succeeded by the certainty of escape." This was
indeed a noble river. Its width was 350 feet, its depth not less than
12, and its current was running at the rate of two and a half knots an
hour. The discoverers believed they had now obtained ample reward for
all their toils and trials. This was the same river which had been
discovered and crossed by Hume and Hovell where the town of Albury now
stands, but between that point, where it had been first seen by
civilized man, and the part now visited by Sturt, it had received so
many tributaries as to make it a much larger and, in a sense, another
river. Sturt called it the Murray, after the Imperial Colonial
Secretary, but the original discoverer had named its upper course the
Hume in memory of his father. For a time these names were confined to
the respective parts of the river; and Dr. Lang censured Count
Strzelecki for departing from this usage in his published work. General
practice has now deserted the Doctor and followed the Count.
The number and persistent hostility of the aborigines formed a serious
obstacle to the progress of this expedition. It was computed that no
fewer than 4,000 were met with on the Murray. They were a low type even
for Australian savages, and did not give evidence of a single redeeming
quality. Addicted to every vice, living in the deepest sink of
bestiality, with bodies in many cases rotting with disgusting diseases,
they presented a loathsome spectacle, and were avoided whenever
possible. Even when not disposed to be openly hostile, their presence at
the camp was a terrible nuisance, and they were generally persuaded to
leave, or hunted away. Sometimes they would rally their forces, and then
prove not only troublesome but really dangerous. Like all savages they
were adepts in deceit, and could wait their opportunity when a purpose
had to be served. By dint of numbers and strategy together, they nearly
succeeded on one occasion in annihilating the expedition. So long as the
river maintained its usual width the boat was tolerably safe in the
middle of the channel, for the spears of the savages were nearly
harmless when they reached the centre of the stream, but their progress
was rapidly approaching a spit which stretched far into the channel, and
this position was seen to be occupied by blacks numbering more than
fifty to one of Sturt's party. The situation was awfully critical, and
in a few minutes more appeared to be positively desperate, for the boat
grounded in shoal-water, and the explorers were at the mercy of the
savages. Happily at this juncture some other natives, who had
previously been friendly to the white men, arrived on the scene, and,
through a somewhat barbarous style of intercession, prevailed with their
sable fraternity in the interest of Sturt, and the murderous attack was
immediately abandoned.
Travel through an unknown country is usually a series of surprises, and
it was no ordinary one that was now in store for the explorers. The spit
which had threatened to be so disastrous proved to be an embankment
silted up by the entrance of another large river into the Murray. Sturt
had already been looking out for the junction of the Darling, which he
had discovered on the previous expedition; and the question now to be
determined was whether this could be the embouchure of the same river.
He had struck the Darling at two points only a few months before, and at
both places its water had been found too salt to drink; here, however,
it was quite fresh; but in all other respects appearances were in favour
of this river, and the Darling Sturt maintained it to be. For years
after his decision was disputed, and even ridiculed by an authority of
no less weight than Sir Thomas Mitchell. Subsequent exploration finally
settled the question in Sturt's favour. The river was and could have
been no other but the Darling, and thus another important problem of
Australian geography was satisfactorily solved.
Day after day the boat, with its adventurous crew, glided down the
united stream of the Murray and the Darling. Sometimes they passed over
wide and long reaches, stretching out for many miles, but occasionally,
too, much difficulty was experienced in clearing the rapids. For a
considerable part of the course the banks were high and steep, but
usually picturesque. The country, so far as could be judged from a
passing boat, was mostly of the poorest quality, offering scarcely a
patch likely to reward the labour of the farmer. In one respect Sturt
was the most unfortunate of the explorers. From first to last he hardly
ever had the good luck to hit upon a large tract of fine country, the
Alexandrina district excepted. His mission seemed to be the discovery of
deserts, and of these he made known more than enough to give Australia a
bad name. Such being Sturt's ill-fortune, it is not surprising to find
him indulging in gloomy views regarding the great interior; but even in
these forebodings he fell short of Oxley, who was quite a Cassandra in
his way. In the introduction to his narrative the Captain tries to
account for the predominance of poor land in this outlying region of the
world, and is inclined to attribute it to the want of decaying vegetable
matter, as the trees seldom shed their leaves, and the little that is
supplied from this or other sources being usually destroyed by bush
fires. But Australia is not the desert land which Sturt imagined, or
even portrayed, as will be seen further on. Its richest lands were yet
locked up, and this same explorer was unconsciously preparing the key by
which they were to be opened to private enterprise and the public
benefit. Between the entrance of the Darling and what is now known as
the Great Bend an important tributary was observed to fall in from
either side. The one from the north Sturt called the Rufus, in honour of
Mr. George Macleay, the second on the expedition. Probably the reader
fails to perceive the point of the compliment. It lies just here: Mr.
Macleay possessed a splendid head of red hair, and _rufus_ being the
Latin for red, down it went for the name of the river. The Captain,
notwithstanding his sombre tinge, must have had a quiet vein of humour
in his composition. The other tributary was called the Lindsay, after a
gentleman of that name who was then Acting-Governor of the colony. On
gaining the lower reaches of the Murray it was observed to widen
rapidly, and at the 35° 15' of S. latitude expanded into a magnificent
lake 60 miles long and 50 in width, which was named Alexandrina, in
honour of the young princess, who soon after became Queen Victoria. When
the far end of the lake had been reached, persistent but unavailing
attempts were made to get the boat to sea. Before leaving Sydney it had
been arranged to send a small vessel to St. Vincent Gulf to wait for the
expedition, that being the most likely quarter for it to turn up if its
course should be directed towards the southern coast. The appointed
rendezvous was not far off, and the explorers had every reason to strive
to reach it; but it was to no purpose that they wearied themselves in
the effort. The narrow and tortuous channel which connected Lake
Alexandrina with Encounter Bay was impracticable even for a boat. It
was, therefore, necessary to return by the way they had come. This was
an awfully serious matter. They had now been 32 days in the boat, during
which one-half of the provisions had been consumed. If the depôt on the
Murrumbidgee was to be reached on the remaining moiety, it could only be
by rowing up the river in the same period of time they had taken to
glide down the current. This appeared to be scarcely possible, but all
their strength was put forth, and they displayed such pluck and
perseverance as shed enduring lustre on the heroism of Australian
exploration. "Our journeys," writes Sturt, "were short, and the head we
made against the stream but trifling. The men had lost the proper and
muscular jerk with which they once made the waters foam and the oars
bend. Their whole bodies swung with an awkward and laboured motion.
Their arms appeared to be nerveless, and their faces became haggard,
their persons emaciated, their spirits wholly sank--nature was so
completely overcome that, from mere exhaustion, they frequently fell
asleep during their painful and almost unceasing exertions. I became
captious, and found fault where there was no occasion, and lost the
equilibrium of my temper in contemplating the condition of my
companions. No murmur, however, escaped them, nor did any complaint
reach me that was intended to indicate that they had done all they could
do. I frequently heard them in their tent, when they thought I had
dropped asleep, complaining of severe pains and of great exhaustion. 'I
must tell the Captain to-morrow,' some of them would say, 'that I can
pull no more!' To-morrow came, and they pulled on, as if reluctant to
yield to circumstances. Macnamee at last lost his senses. We first
observed this from his incoherent conversation, but eventually from his
manner. He related the most extraordinary tales, and fidgetted about
eternally in the boat." In such a plight did they reach the depôt on the
Murrumbidgee. Altogether 88 days were spent in the boat, and the
distance travelled could not have been less than 4,000 miles. The rest
of the journey was performed by easy stages, the party arriving in
Sydney on the 25th of May, after an absence of almost seven months.
III.
The discovery of a rich territory on Lake Alexandrina, was made in 1830,
and before another decade had passed away the settlement of South
Australia was established in this promising region. By a singular
fatality, Sturt, as an explorer, had the infelicity of stumbling
continually upon deserts, or on tracts only a shade better; but the
termination of the Murray, which he had navigated so courageously,
brought him to the borders of an ample area of the richest land in
Australia. In these circumstances it was natural for him to evince a
special fondness for the locality which had been the most fortunate, as
it was also the latest, of his discoveries. The retired explorer
accordingly settled down with his family in this chosen haunt, with the
intention of making his permanent home in the young colony of South
Australia. He received a civil appointment as Surveyor-General, which
enabled him to live in comparative quiet and comfort, and he was highly
respected for his great services to Australia in general. After so many
years of retirement, probably no one expected to hear anything further
of Charles Sturt as an explorer. It could not, therefore, fail to
produce a feeling of surprise when it became known that after fourteen
years' repose he had sought and obtained from Lord Stanley the necessary
requisites for another expedition into the interior. He had again become
fired with his old ambition, and was now covetous of the honour of being
the first European to plant his foot on the centre of Australia. All
things being in readiness for this heroic undertaking, Sturt left
Adelaide on the 15th of August, 1844, with a party of fourteen men,
amply provisioned. He chose the route of the Darling and Murray rivers,
which he proposed to follow till the outskirts of civilization were
reached. The Murray was struck at "Murrundi," the residence at that time
of another noted explorer, Mr. E. J. Eyre, who had recently accomplished
his adventurous journey round the Great Australian Bight, and the river
valley was thereafter traversed as far as the junction of the
Williorara, a locality better known now under the name of the Laidley
Ponds. This place was becoming known to overlanders, and it was hoped
it might prove a suitable site for the first depôt; but this expectation
was hardly justified by personal inspection, and it became evident that
the expedition must proceed at once into the interior. Sturt accordingly
gathered his party around him, and, having engaged in appropriate
devotional exercises, in which he committed himself and his men to the
watchful care of Almighty God, launched bravely forth into the perils of
the wilderness. Some distance ahead a mountain chain was visible, to
which the name of Stanley, or Barrier Range, was afterwards given. The
march was at first directed towards these heights, in the hope that a
river might be discovered on the opposite fall which would lead into the
interior. Here again expectation was doomed to disappointment, and the
expedition was forced to proceed along the range, where water alone was
to be found. Gradually the mountains sank into the plains to the
northward, and it was resolved to strike out for the centre from this
point, taking the risk of obtaining a sufficient supply of water at
tolerable intervals. The country traversed in this direction proved to
be cheerless and sterile in the extreme, and the journey was tedious and
trying to a corresponding degree. Nevertheless, the party pressed
forward, doing their best to deserve success. But it was to no purpose.
The country became still more inhospitable, and water utterly failed. It
was evident that the object of the expedition could not be reached by
this route, and Sturt, wearied in body and chafed in spirit, was
compelled to retreat to the mountains on his outward track. This was his
first repulse from the centre of Australia.
A return was made to the depôt, which had fortunately been established
not far from the range, in a lovely oasis in the desert. No reader of
the narrative of the expedition can soon forget the strange incidents of
this depôt in the Rocky Glen, which unexpectedly became the prison-house
of the whole party for six months. The supply of water here was good and
abundant, though not inexhaustible; and this advantage was of supreme
importance, as a drought of unparalleled severity was fast closing in
upon the expedition. Being wearied and worn out by the toilsome journey
to the northward, Sturt resolved to give his men a brief breathing time
in this favoured spot; and when this temporary repose was ended he
found, to his consternation, that his retreat was cut off, while it was
equally impossible to advance. Here is his own description of the heat
and misery they had to undergo:--"The tubes of the thermometer burst,
the bullocks pawed the ground to get a cooler footing, the men's shoes
were scorched as if by fire, their finger nails were brittle as glass;
the lead dropped from the pencil, the ink dried in the pen, as Sturt
wrote up his daily journal; the drays almost fell to pieces, the screws
loosened in their boxes, the horn handles of the instruments and their
combs split, the wool on the sheep and their own hair ceased to grow."
Many persistent efforts were made on every side to find a way of
escape; but all to no purpose, for the drought had closed them in as
effectually as a besieging army. There was no help for it but to make
the best of their misfortune until rain came to the rescue. Fortunately
they had sufficient feed and plenty of water for their live stock, and
for such mercies they were truly thankful. As the summer advanced it was
found necessary to seek a partial refuge from the scorching rays of the
sun in an underground chamber, which had been constructed for this
purpose. The imprisonment had, at the same time, a few negative
advantages. For one thing, the completeness of their isolation formed a
sufficient safeguard against the assaults of the barbarous tribes of the
interior; for the same calamity which prevented the one party from
getting away equally prohibited the other from approaching this oasis in
the desert. During the six months' detention only one blackfellow had
been able to put in an appearance, and not till reduced to the last
extremity of hunger and thirst. The poor emaciated creature was
prevailed upon to remain for the present; but, having free access to the
explorers' mutton, he grew tolerably fat in the course of a fortnight,
when, with the usual gratitude of the barbarian, he turned his back upon
his benefactors and took the way that pleased him best. The accounts of
the interior which Sturt received from this and other aborigines he had
previously encountered were disheartening in the extreme, and it was
impossible to abstain from gloomy forebodings during this period of
enforced incarceration. But whether they were to have any more
travelling or not was becoming more and more a matter of bare
probability. The herbage of the valley had become reduced to mere dust,
and the water had diminished so ominously as to make it apparent that,
unless rain fell within a month, the party would certainly find their
graves in the Rocky Glen, as one of them had already done. But the
future had better things in store, and did not longer withhold them. In
one of those sudden changes so characteristic of the Australian climate
the sky assumed its curtain of clouds and burst in a storm of rain,
which deluged the valley. The roar of the rushing water, Sturt avers,
was the sweetest music that ever fell upon his ear. That welcome
thunderstorm was the key which opened the door of the prison and gave
liberty to the captives.
This happy release was followed by a period of successful
travelling--not, indeed, void of difficulty, but yet without much of
stirring incident. Another depôt was formed, which is well known under
the name of the Park. Having enjoyed a short breathing time here, the
expedition again proceeded eastward, and touched on the northern
extremity of Lake Torrens. A survey of this part having been made, in
accordance with special instructions, they returned to the Park Depôt,
which was reached just twelve months after Sturt had left Adelaide. As
time was thus rapidly passing away, he now resolved to put forth all his
strength in a bold effort to reach the summit of his ambition and place
his foot on the centre of Australia. Wishing to have as little
encumbrance as possible, he divided his party, and, having picked three
of the best men, started for the goal of his weary journeys, leaving the
remainder in the depôt. Day after day this forlorn hope toiled on. Plain
succeeded plain over a dreary expanse of interminable country, redeemed
only by a series of parallel watercourses, which afforded a sufficient
supply of that indispensable element. One important creek was crossed,
but had to be abandoned, as it headed in a wrong direction. Happily, a
sufficient compensation was found in the discovery of another creek,
which they called the Eyre, after the adventurous explorer; and this
godsend in the wilderness they were able to follow for a long distance.
It was after they were compelled to leave it that they entered upon the
stern realities of travel in the untrodden interior. The country now
assumed an aspect so sterile and forbidding as to place it out of
comparison with anything which Sturt, the discoverer of deserts, had
previously witnessed. For a space of 20 miles nothing was found but a
series of sand-ridges succeeding one another with the monotonous
regularity of the waves of the sea. The fatigue which had to be endured
in crossing this inhospitable tract was indescribable. It greatly
weakened the strength of the party, and it was only the hope of soon
meeting a change of country which lured them on. Nor was this
expectation doomed to disappointment, for a change they met with at a
moment's notice. All of a sudden the jaded explorers found a stony
desert springing up beneath their feet and stretching away as far as the
eye could reach, while it included within its ghastly embrace more than
half the horizon. The suddenness of the appearance of this spectre of
desolation struck them mute with surprise and horror. One of Sturt's
attendants was the first to break the silence, which he did by raising
his hands and exclaiming--"Good heavens! did ever man see such country?"
Probably he never did. It is worse even than the African Sahara. It is
beyond the power of words to describe it as it stands in its lone and
dread reality. Sturt's Stony Desert is one unbroken expanse of
desolation, a wilderness of red ferruginous sandstone, undergoing
perpetual disintegration, constituting a natural ruin on a gigantic
scale, without a single redeeming feature. Barrenness has marked this
region for her own, and will ever hold it as a special possession. No
life can subsist within its borders; the foot of the savage is not upon
its wastes, and the whole region is still and silent as the grave. Such
is the dark picture as drawn by the explorer himself. Happily a better
acquaintance has led to a more favourable opinion; though the land of
spinifex, it produces other vegetation of nutritive and even fattening
properties. The Stony Desert proper consists of many patches, but
probably none will be found to be very extensive. The stout hearts of
the explorers quailed but for a moment. Be the consequence what it
might, they determined to go forward, and the first night found them
encamped in the desert without a drop of water. Their only hope of
safety consisted in expeditious travel out of this scene of desolation.
It was found to extend 50 miles, and when the party reached the other
side, they were in a condition which can be more easily conceived than
described. Here again they entered upon a similar belt of sand-ridges
such as they had found flanking the Stony Desert on the other side.
These, unhappily, were succeeded by another region of sand, utterly
destitute of water. Their sufferings, which had formerly been great,
were now intolerable. It became apparent that further progress was
impracticable, and it was just a question whether retreat was
possible--certainly it could not remain so much longer with such heat
and drought as were then prevailing. The necessity of retreat was thus
forced upon them, but it was a very painful one. They had now travelled
more than 400 miles from the depôt (and such travelling!) and could they
only have advanced another 150 miles they would have pitched their camp
in the centre of Australia, the darling object of so many heroic
sacrifices. Their reluctance to yield to this last dictate of necessity
was extreme. A member of the expedition has pictured Sturt as he sat on
one of the sand dunes with his face buried in his hands for a whole
hour, while the struggle was going on in his own mind. It was not in
nature, indeed, to yield without a mighty conflict. But inexorable
necessity had to be obeyed notwithstanding, and thus valuable lives
were saved. This was his second repulse from the centre of Australia.
Nothing is more admirable in the character of Sturt than his magnanimity
under adversity. However keenly he may have felt his disappointment, his
mind retained its accustomed tranquillity, and during the retreat he
went on laying down the bearings of his route for the guidance of others
who might follow and obtain the palm he had been compelled to resign. He
reached the depôt, where he had left the remainder of his party, on the
2nd October, 1845, having been absent seven weeks and travelled more
than 800 miles.
After a short period of rest and refreshment this chivalrous explorer,
who amid all his heavy misfortunes was certainly _tenax propositi_, to
the surprise and regret of his party conceived the design of making one
more attempt to reach the centre of Australia. He now determined on
trying the line of the creek he had formerly discovered, and now called
after Strzelecki, in the hope of its giving him sufficient northing to
bring him within a practicable distance of the object for which the
expedition had been sent. Strzelecki's Creek was found to answer his
purpose so long as it lasted, and at its termination led to the
discovery of another of much greater importance. To this new river Sturt
gave the name of Cooper's Creek, after a distinguished South Australian
judge. Unfortunately it flowed nearly east and west, and, therefore, had
to be abandoned in the prosecution of a northern route. Leaving the
plains which extended for some distance from the banks of Cooper's
Creek, Sturt again encountered the ominous sand-ridges of which he had
had sufficient experience on the former journey, and these being
traversed, his hard fate again landed him on the edge of the Stony
Desert. His destiny seemed ever mocking him with deserts, but this was
the last he ever discovered. Having swept the unvarying horizon long and
patiently with his telescope, and finding no break in the terrible
monotony, he turned back for the third and last time from the effort to
accomplish the dream of his life. After so many magnanimous sacrifices,
he finally and for ever waived the palm of reaching the centre of the
continent, which, sixteen years later, was won by a member of the same
expedition, Mr. J. M'Douall Stuart, whose march to the coveted spot
reads in comparison like a holiday excursion. The party now fell back
upon Cooper's Creek, which was traced upwards for a considerable
distance. It is a remarkable circumstance that Sir Thomas Mitchell was
exploring its upper waters about the same time. But nothing could be
more diverse than the two descriptions of the same stream. Mitchell's is
quite _couleur de rose_, and Sturt's has probably been tinged with the
effect of his own misfortunes. While the one gave it the name of
Cooper's Creek, as already noticed, the other called it the Victoria,
after the Queen. This was most unfortunate, as there is another Victoria
River on the west coast. However, both designations are now generally
superseded by the native name of Barcoo.
It is unnecessary to enter into details respecting the homeward
expedition. The outward track was followed as closely as possible to
Laidley Ponds, and thence to Adelaide. The water was rapidly drying up,
and the retreat had to be conducted like the forced marches of an army.
The men were nearly all ill, more or less, and some of them, being
unable to walk, had to be carried long distances. Latterly, the leader
of the expedition seems to have been the chief sufferer. Long exposure
to the glaring reflection of the sun on the sandy wastes had ruined his
eyesight, and not long afterwards he became permanently blind. Even now
his constitution was completely shattered, and he had to be laid on a
bed of leaves and conveyed from the interior in a cart, from which
sufferings he never fully recovered. Such was Charles Sturt, after
fifteen months' wanderings in the deserts of our country; and henceforth
this heroic and much-enduring man disappeared from the stage of
Australian history, of which he had been long a distinguished ornament.
He retired on a pension of £600 from the South Australian Legislature,
and died at Cheltenham in 1869.