EYRE'S ADVENTUROUS JOURNEY ALONG THE GREAT AUSTRALIAN BIGHT.
Edward John Eyre, the son of a Yorkshire clergyman, was born in the year
1815. A youthful passion for the heroic led him to chose the military
profession; but, having failed to obtain a commission, he turned his
attention to the colonies, and came to Sydney in 1833, with the slender
capital of £400. Part of this sum was spent in obtaining colonial
experience, in which he graduated so high as to become the leader in a
new Australian enterprise. The newly founded settlements of Port Phillip
(subsequently Victoria) and South Australia had created a great demand
for stock, all of which had hitherto been carried by sea, and, on
reaching their destination, were sold at famine prices. Young Eyre
conceived the practicability of an overland route, and proceeded to
prove it to a demonstration. In the first of these journeys he took
1,000 sheep and 600 head of cattle from the Monaro district, in New
South Wales, to Adelaide, in South Australia, by way of the Murray
River, and reaped a handsome pecuniary reward in the sale of the stock.
Smaller men followed in the wake of this born adventurer, making
overlanding the most paying game in Australia, till a glut was produced
in the southern markets. Success having followed Eyre in the new path
his enterprise had struck out, he was soon in possession of sufficient
funds to begin squatting on his own account. He purchased the station
"Murrundi," on the Lower Murray, where he resided for several years,
acting also as magistrate and protector of the aborigines. Occasionally,
too, he varied the monotony of bush life by feats of exploration into
the unknown territory, thus keeping alive the spirit of adventure, and
unconsciously qualifying himself for the romantic enterprise which will
transmit his name to distant posterity.
Up to the year 1840 Western Australia remained completely isolated from
the other colonies, and could be approached only by sea. But as that
country was now being extensively occupied, it was of great importance
also to the settlers in the south to find an overland route from
Adelaide, and it was believed the time had come when a successful effort
could be made. The obstacles which barred the way were enormous, and for
that epoch insuperable; but so little were they suspected by the South
Australians that the proposed journey was regarded as a pleasure
excursion, and it was considered advisable to lighten the expense of the
expedition by sending over a quantity of stock with the pioneer
explorers! The one man who could correct this public delusion was Mr.
Eyre, for he knew enough of the outlying country to feel safe in
predicting the failure of the proposed undertaking. By both speech and
pen he laboured to oppose the misguided enthusiasm, and succeeded in
preventing a certain waste of treasure and a very probable sacrifice of
human life. But it was far from his desire to see so much ardour for
exploration run to waste, and now that the colony was in high feather
for discovery, Eyre made a successful effort to divert it into what he
considered a more profitable channel. Very little was yet known of the
country to the north. Why not strike out in this direction now, and make
a bold attempt to reach the centre of Australia from the city of
Adelaide? One argument alone was sufficient, and with it Eyre prevailed.
He offered to be the leader of the expedition, providing one-third of
its expense from his own pocket. Nothing remained now but to get on with
the preparations.
On the 20th of June, 1840, a well-provisioned party consisting of eight
persons, with Eyre in command, supported by two other Europeans, Scott
and Baxter, left Adelaide under favourable auspices, and in high hopes
of exploring a large portion of the interior if more cherished results
should prove unattainable; but, as the event proved, only to meet with
crushing disappointment. Lake Torrens was as yet very imperfectly known,
and Eyre, misled by refraction, conceived it to be an immense sheet of
water in the shape of a horse-shoe, within the bend of which he supposed
the expedition was being entrapped. The curve, in reality, was described
by a chain of mud lakes partly covered with water, and partly encrusted
with salt. Passages are now found, at intervals, between these mud
lagoons, but Eyre had not the good luck to hit on one of them. Aroused
by the energy of despair, he next determined to round this impenetrable
barrier, and struck out to the eastward, for an isolated peak which he
called Mount Hopeless. The name corresponded to the reality, for the
outlook from its summit revealed nothing but a barren and burning
desert, which forced the expedition to fall back by a western route to
the southern coast.
Headquarters now remained for some time at Streaky Bay, on the eastern
shoulder of the Great Australian Bight. Taking a subdivision of the
party, he again and again endeavoured to round the head of the Bight in
the hope of finding better country, which would open a favourable route
towards the interior. Here, too, his expectations were baffled in this
latter respect, and even Eyre had to abandon his pet project in utter
despair. But he was of too dauntless a temperament to brook the idea of
returning to Adelaide without accomplishing something worthy of
remembrance. His next move was competent only to a madman or a hero. It
was a serious attempt to lead an expedition from the encampment on
Fowler's Bay to King George's Sound, along the Great Australian Bight, a
journey of more than 1,500 miles over the worst country under the sun.
He proposed to proceed with his present party unbroken, if Governor
Gawler would allow the government cutter to advance to Cape Arid, a sort
of half-way station, and there await the expedition, with a supply of
provisions. The Governor refused the use of the vessel in connection
with so romantic a proposal, except for the purpose of bringing the
entire party back to Adelaide, and so putting an end to what he must be
excused for regarding as a mad freak. But Eyre was a man born to lead,
not to be led, and determined to stick to his purpose, with help or
without it. Yet, being conscious of the extreme peril that lay on the
very face of the undertaking, he resolved to risk the sacrifice of no
European's life but his own, and made preparations to send home Scott
and Baxter in the cutter. Baxter, an old and faithful servant, who had
been overseer on Eyre's station, persisted in clinging to his master,
whether for life or death. And, alas! it was for the latter. The party,
as thus reduced, consisted of only two white men and three black boys,
one being an old favourite named Wylie. A few horses and sheep, together
with a limited supply of provisions, made up the sum total of the
expedition.
Never before was an enterprise of such overwhelming difficulty engaged
in by reasonable men. This section of the southern coast was yet
scarcely known. The navigators Nuyts and Flinders had cruised over its
waters, gazing with mysterious awe on its weather-beaten cliffs, rising
to the precipitous height of 400 or even 600 feet above the water. At
intervals along the base the waves had undermined this Titanic sea-wall,
causing it to fall in many a yawning breach, the _debris_ of which
completely obstructed the passage between the rocks and the sea in the
few places where such a convenience might have been previously possible.
The crown of these cliffs had not yet been trodden by the white man's
foot, and the reports of the sparse aborigines were enough to freeze the
ardour of the most adventurous in the heroic age of Australian
exploration. On this border-land of earth and sea contending winds had
deposited the dust particles borne on their wings, and rolled them
together in heaps, to be met with at long and dreary intervals. These
sand-hills, resting on a limestone formation, retained at their base a
small supply of water, to be reached only by painstaking, and often
painful, digging. For the greater part of the way no other water was to
be found on this barren and inhospitable region of parched-up Australia.
From Cape Adieu, where leave had been taken of the cutter and its
passengers, to the first stage at the head of the Bight, the
difficulties were manageable--for this part of the route had been
traversed and supplies hidden for future use--but, this over, they had
to be faced in all their appalling magnitude. The sand-hills were found
to be so far apart that it was impossible to bring the stock from the
one to the other without intermediate supply. When the sheep, and
sometimes the horses, could travel no further, one or two of the parties
had to be left in charge while others pushed forward in search of water,
and then returned with what supply they could bring, when the animals
were driven on to the station. The discouragements were infinite and the
labour superhuman. Eyre alone was equal to the strain, and he owed it
more to his indomitable spirit than to his natural strength. It was a
sore trial to perceive even Baxter to be giving way and wishing to
return; but as this seemed to threaten certain death, he kept to his
resolution, and persevered against all hope of a successful issue, so
desperate had the aspect of affairs now become. The few sheep having
dwindled away with ominous rapidity, it had become necessary to kill
several of the horses and eat them, although they furnished little but
skin and bone. Matters having come to extremities, the baggage had to be
reduced to the smallest proportions, and most of the valuables were
thrown away in the wilderness to lighten the burden of carriage. Their
sufferings from want of water now became indescribable. Man and beast
were compelled to travel three or four days without getting a mouthful.
With only one exception, none had been found but in the sand-hills for
the distance of 800 miles, and how hard it was to reach it there has
already been described. Even the dew on the sparse patches of grass was
put in requisition, as may be learned from the following extract from
the journal of the expedition:--"Leaving the overseer to search for the
horses, which had strayed, I took a sponge and went to try to collect
some of the dew which was hanging in spangles on the grass and shrubs.
Brushing these with the sponge, I squeezed it, when saturated, into a
quart-pot, which in an hour's time I filled with water. The native boys
were occupied in the same way, and, by using a handful of fine grass
instead of a sponge, they collected about a quart among them. Having
taken the water to the camp and made it into tea, we divided it amongst
the party, and never was a meal more truly relished, although we ate the
last morsel of bread we had with us, and none knew when we might again
enjoy either a drink of water or a mouthful of bread. We had now
demonstrated the practicability of collecting water from the dew. I had
often heard from the natives that they were in the habit of practising
this plan, but had never before actually witnessed its adoption."
But the climax was yet to come. To privations and difficulties the crime
of treachery and murder was now to be added. Two of the blacks proved
unfaithful, and shot the overseer, Baxter, in cold blood, apparently for
the purpose of deserting with as much of the provisions as they could
lay hands on, perhaps after the murder of the leader himself. The words
in which Eyre describes the anguish of his situation exceed the highest
efforts of tragedy, and show how fact may become stranger than fiction.
"The night was cold, and the wind blowing hard from the south-west,
whilst scud and nimbus were passing very rapidly by the moon. The horses
fed tolerably well, but rambled a good deal, threading in and out among
the many belts of scrub which intersected the grassy openings, until I
scarcely knew exactly where our camp was, the fires having apparently
expired some time ago. It was now half-past ten, and I headed the horses
back in the direction in which I thought the camp lay, that I might be
ready to call the overseer to relieve me at eleven. Whilst thus engaged
and looking steadfastly around among the scrub to see if I could
anywhere detect the embers of our fires, I was startled by a sudden
flash, followed by the report of a gun, not a quarter of a mile away
from me. Imagining that the overseer had mistaken the hour of the night,
and not being able to find me or the horses had taken that method to
attract my attention, I immediately called out, but no answer was
returned. I got alarmed, and, leaving the horses, hurried up towards the
camp as rapidly as I could. About a hundred yards from it I met the King
George's Sound native (Wylie) running towards me, and in great haste and
alarm, crying out, 'Oh, Massa! oh, Massa, come here!' but could gain no
information from him as to what had occurred. Upon reaching the
encampment, which I did in about five minutes after the shot was fired,
I was horror-struck to find my poor overseer lying on the ground
weltering in his blood, and in the last agonies of death. Glancing
hastily around the camp, I found it deserted by the two younger native
boys, whilst the scattered fragments of our baggage, which I left
carefully piled under the oilskin, lay thrown about in wild disorder,
and at once revealed the cause of the harrowing scene before me. Upon
raising the body of my faithful but ill-fated follower, I found that he
was beyond all human aid; he had been shot through the left breast with
a ball; the last convulsions of death were upon him, and he expired
almost immediately after our arrival. The frightful, the appalling truth
now burst upon me that I was alone in the desert. He who had faithfully
served me for many years, who had followed my fortunes in adversity and
prosperity, who had accompanied me in all my wanderings, and whose
attachment to me had been his sole inducement to remain with me in this
last and, to him, alas! fatal journey, was now no more. For an instant,
I was almost tempted to wish that it had been my fate instead of his.
The horrors of my situation glared upon me in such startling reality as
for an instant almost to paralyze the mind. At the dead hour of night,
in the wildest and most inhospitable wastes of Australia, with the
fierce wind raging in unison with the scene of violence before me, I was
left with a single native, whose fidelity I could not rely upon, and who
for aught I knew might be in league with the other two, who were perhaps
even now lurking about with the view of taking away my life as they had
done that of the overseer. Three days had passed away since we left the
last water, and it was very doubtful when we might find any more. Six
hundred miles of country had to be traversed before I could hope to
obtain the slightest aid or assistance of any kind, whilst I knew not
that a single drop of water or an ounce of flour had been left by these
murderers from a stock that had previously been so small. Though years
have now passed away since the enactment of this tragedy, the dreadful
horrors of that time and scene are recalled before me with frightful
vividness, and make me shudder when I think of them. A lifetime was
crowded into those few short hours, and death alone may blot out the
impression they produced."
To give decent burial to the body of a friend whom death only could
separate would have been a melancholy satisfaction, but even this slight
tribute of affection was denied by the situation. No grave could be dug,
for sheet-rock, stretching far and wide, formed the adamantine pavement
of this horrible place. Wrapt in a blanket for its winding-sheet, the
corpse was left in this lonely wilderness, where it lay undisturbed till
it was stumbled on quite recently by the district mailman. On a calmer
view of the position, Eyre discovered that the ruffians had left him
only forty pounds of flour, a little tea and sugar, and four gallons of
water. Such was the provision for two men against a journey of 600
miles! Nothing, however, could be gained by delay in this awful scene,
and every consideration counselled an immediate departure--most of all,
the knowledge that the two murderers were skulking in the neighbourhood
with the probable design of taking Eyre's life. A start was made without
further loss of time. Another horse was killed for food, but the animal
having been poor and sickly, its flesh did not agree with them, and ill
health supervened. When thus brought face to face with the last
extremity, a sudden vision of deliverance nearly overwhelmed them with
joy. Coming unexpectedly on an opening in the Bight, first a boat and
then a ship at anchor rushed upon the view. A closer acquaintance proved
the apparition to be a French whaling-vessel, under the command of
Captain Rossiter, whose name is fittingly perpetuated in the same little
bay. The unlooked-for visitors were hospitably entertained and lodged
for twelve days in the ship, till they were sufficiently recruited for
the remainder of the journey. With renewed strength, and a fresh supply
of provisions, the march through the desert was once more resumed, for
the indomitable explorer would not even yet abandon the project. Though
hardship had now lost its sting, more difficulties had yet to be
encountered than might have been expected, but they were of a different
kind from the preceding. Water became only too plentiful, for a wet
season had set in, and the travellers had often to wade rather than to
walk. But the end of this terrible journey drew on apace. To their
unspeakable joy the mountains on the further side of King George's Sound
began to loom in the distance, and Wylie, who was a native of that
district, now for the first time showed some confidence in his leader,
whom he never expected to bring him back to his home. The welcome sight,
in truth, inspired both the black and the white man with fresh life; for
they had to make only one more effort, and, this over, their weary feet
found rest in the hospitable settlement of Albany. The heroic endurance
displayed during this journey stands without a parallel in history, but
it led to nothing but a barren triumph over stupendous difficulties. Had
Eyre kept further inland he would have found a better route and opened
up a more profitable country. This discovery had to wait for another and
more fortunate explorer. The present expedition, by hugging the shore,
travelled over a tract of country that was seen to be utterly useless
for the wants of civilization. So patent was this fact to Mr. Eyre
himself that he justified the publication of his narrative by the
strange argument that no one had traversed this wilderness before and he
was perfectly sure none would ever do it again.
Henceforward Edward John Eyre was known to fame--but not to fortune.
Being subsequently appointed Governor of Jamaica, he fell heir to an
upheaval of disorder, which culminated in open rebellion. This
insurrection Eyre put down with an iron hand. Some accused him of
needless severity, while others justified his conduct as an act of
imperative necessity. The hero-worshipper, the late Thomas Carlyle,
defended him bravely, and was seconded by many sympathizers of less
note, who came to the rescue with pen and purse. This perilous journey
of former years was justly pleaded in Mr. Eyre's favour, but his friends
weakened their case by confounding the Great Australian Bight with the
Gulf of Carpentaria! Though exonerated by a commission of inquiry, the
Governor was recalled, and for four years thereafter harassed by a
bitter prosecution, which he probably found harder to endure than his
terrible journey on the Great Australian Bight.