state that it is situated between the 10th and 45th degrees of south
latitude, and the 112th and 154th degrees of longitude east from
Greenwich; its extent, in round numbers, may therefore be said to be
3000 miles in length, or from west to east, and inclusive of Van
Diemen’s Land nearly the same in breadth, or from north to south. In its
present uplifted position its form is nearly square, with a depressed
centre bounded by an almost continuous range of hills and plateaux,
which, varying in altitude from one to six thousand feet above the level
of the sea, in some places approach the coast and present lofty and
inaccessible cliffs to the ocean, while in others they trend towards the
interior of the country at a distance of from twenty to eighty miles
from the coast-line; but inasmuch as these elevations are all of an
undulating and not of a precipitous character, no part of the country
can be considered as strictly alpine. Nothing can be more different than
the features of the country on the exterior and interior of this great
barrier, particularly on the eastern coast, where, between the mountains
and the sea, the vegetation partakes to a great extent of a tropical
character; it is there, on the rich alluvial soil, formed by the debris
washed down from the hills, that we find various species of _Eucalypti_,
_Fici_,and other trees, many of which attain an immense altitude, and
forests of towering palms; the surface of the ground beneath clothed
with a dense and impervious underwood, composed of dwarf trees, shrubs
and tree-ferns festooned with creepers and parasitic plants in the
richest profusion, the continuity of which is here and there broken by
rich open meadow-like districts admirably adapted for the pasturing of
cattle, and to which, from the frequent occurrence of the _Angophoræ_, a
tribe of trees in which the settlers see a fancied resemblance to the
apple-trees of Europe, the name of Apple-tree Flats has been given.
Within the ranges, on the other hand, we find immense open downs and
grassy plains, studded here and there with detached belts and forests of
_Eucalypti_, _Acaciæ_, &c., presenting a park-like appearance, to which,
as we advance farther towards the interior, succeed either extensive
marshes or land of a most sterile description. The face of this vast
country consequently presents much variety of aspect; the infrequency of
rain tends much to give a sombre brown hue to the surface of the ground,
which however is relieved by the constant verdure of its trees, the
peculiar lanceolate form and the pendent position of which render them
almost shadowless. It is in the neighbourhood of the few rivers which
intersect the country, and in the lower flats flooded by the waters,
when floods occur, that we find the vegetation more luxuriant and the
trees attaining a far greater size; the sides of the rivers are moreover
fringed with _Casuarinæ_ and other trees, which, although of large size,
never arrive at the altitude of the stately _Eucalypti_, which attain,
under favourable circumstances, a size and height which appear perfectly
incredible. Mr. Backhouse states that one measured by him on the Lopham
Road, near Emu Bay in Van Diemen’s Land, which, “was rather hollow at
the bottom and broken at the top, was 49 feet round at about 5 feet from
the ground; another that was solid, and supposed to be 200 feet high,
was 41 feet round; and a third, supposed to be 250 feet high, was 55½
feet round. As this tree spread much at the base, it would be nearly 70
feet in circumference at the surface of the ground. My companions spoke
to each other when at the opposite side of this tree from myself, and
their voices sounded so distant that I concluded they had inadvertently
left me, to see some other object, and immediately called to them. They
in answer remarked the distant sound of my voice, and inquired if I were
behind the tree! When the road through this forest was forming, a man
who had only about two hundred yards to go, from one company of
work-people to another, lost himself: he called, and was repeatedly
answered; but getting further astray, his voice became more indistinct,
till it ceased to be heard, and he perished. The largest trees do not
always carry up their width in proportion to their height, but many that
are mere spars are 200 feet high.”
A prostrate tree noticed by Mr. Backhouse in the forest near the
junction of the Emu River with the Loudwater “was 35 feet in
circumference at the base, 22 feet at 66 feet up, 19 feet at 110 feet
up; there were two large branches at 120 feet; the general head branched
off at 150 feet; the elevation of the tree, traceable by the branches on
the ground, was 213 feet. We ascended this tree on an inclined plane,
formed by one of its limbs, and walked four abreast with ease upon its
trunk! In its fall it had overturned another 168 feet high, which had
brought up with its roots a ball of earth 20 feet across.” There are
other remarkable features, which, as they appertain to districts
frequently alluded to in the course of the work, it becomes necessary to
notice, namely the immense deltas formed by the descent of the waters of
the interior, such as the valley of the Murray near its embouchure into
the sea, spoken of as the great Murray scrub of South Australia; this
enormous flat of nearly one hundred miles in length by more than twenty
in breadth is clothed with a vegetation peculiarly its own, the
prevailing trees which form a belt down the centre consisting of dwarf
_Eucalypti_, while the margins are fringed with shrub-like trees of
various kinds. Nor must the immense belts of _Banksiæ_, which grow on
the sand-hills bordering the sea-coast and in some parts of the
interior, or the districts clothed with grass-trees (_Xanthorrhæa_), be
passed over unnoticed; in the intertropical regions of Australia, of
which at present so little is known, we find, besides the _Eucalypti_,
_Banksiæ_ and other trees of the southern coast, dense forests of canes,
mangroves, &c. Each of these districts has a zoology peculiarly its own:
for instance, the _Banksiæ_ are everywhere tenanted by the true
_Meliphagi_; the _Eucalypti_ by the _Ptiloti_ and _Trichoglossi_; the
towering fig-trees by the Regent and Satin birds; the palms by the
_Carpophagæ_ or fruit-eating Pigeons, and the grassy plains by the
ground Pigeons, Finches and grass Parrakeets. The circumstance of the
boles of the trees being destitute of a thick corrugated rind or bark
will doubtless account for the total absence of any member of the genus
_Picus_ or Woodpeckers, a group of birds found in all parts of the world
with the exception of Australia and Polynesia.
Such then is a transient view of a few of the great physical features of
Australia to which I have thought it requisite to allude in the
Introduction of the present work, and I cannot conclude this portion of
the subject without mentioning the very remarkable manner in which many
of the Australian Birds represent other nearly allied species belonging
to the Old World, as if some particular law existed in reference to the
subject, the species so represented being evidently destined to fulfil
the same offices in either hemisphere. As instances in point, I may
mention among the FALCONIDÆ the _F. hypoleucus_ and _F. melanogenys_,
which represent the _F. Islandicus_ and _F. Peregrinus_; our Merlin and
Kestril are equally well represented by the _Falco frontatus_ and
_Tinnunculus Cenchroïdes_ of Australia; the Osprey of Europe also is
represented by the _P. leucocephala_; among the wading birds, the Curlew
and the Whimbrel of Europe are beautifully represented by the _Numenius
Australis_ and _N. uropygialis_, and the bar-tailed and black-tailed
Godwits by the _Limosa uropygialis_ and _L. Melanuroïdes_. Both Europe
and Australia have each one Stilted Plover, one Dottrell (_Eudromias_),
and one Avocet. Among the water birds the Cormorants and Grebes of
Europe are similarly represented by the _Phalacrocorax Carboïdes_, &c.,
and _Podiceps Australis_, _P. Nestor_ and _P. gularis_; and other
instances might be noticed, but as they will all be found in the body of
the work, it will not be necessary to recapitulate them here. Although
so many curious instances of representation and of nearly allied species
are found to occur, no country possesses so many genera peculiar to
itself as Australia, such as _Ægotheles_, _Falcunculus_,
_Colluricincla_, _Grallina_, _Gymnorhina_, _Strepera_, _Cinclosoma_,
_Menura_, _Psophodes_, _Malurus_, _Sericornis_, _Ephthianura_,
_Pardalotus_, _Chlamydera_, _Ptilonorhynchus_, _Struthidea_, _Licmetis_,
_Calyptorhynchus_, _Platycercus_, _Euphema_, _Nymphicus_, _Climacteris_,
_Scythrops_, _Myzantha_, _Talegalla_, _Leipoa_, _Pedionomus_,
_Cladorhynchus_, _Tribonyx_, _Cereopsis_, _Anseranas_, and _Biziura_.
In a country of such vast extent as Australia, spreading over so many
degrees of latitude, we might naturally expect to find much diversity in
the climate, and such is really the case. Van Diemen’s Land, from its
isolated and more southern position, is cooler and characterized by
greater humidity than Australia; its vegetation is therefore abundant,
and its forests dense and difficult of access. The climate of the
continent, on the other hand, between the 25th and 35th degrees of
latitude, is much drier, and has a temperature which is probably higher
than that of any other part of the world; the thermometer frequently
rising to 110°, 120°, and even 130° in the shade; and this high
temperature is not unfrequently increased by the hot winds which sweep
over the country from the northward, and which indicate most strongly
the parched and sterile nature of the interior. Unlike other hot
countries, this great heat and dryness is unaccompanied by night dews,
and the falls of rain being uncertain and irregular, droughts of many
months’ duration sometimes occur, during which the rivers and lagoons
are dried up, the land becomes a parched waste, vegetation is burnt up,
and famine spreads destruction on every side. It is easier for the
imagination to conceive than the pen to depict the horrors of so
dreadful a visitation. The indigenous animals and birds retire to the
mountains, or to more distant regions exempt from its influence.
Thousands of sheep and oxen perish, bullocks are seen dead by the
road-side or in the dried-up water-holes, to which, in the hope of
relief, they had dragged themselves, there to fall and die; trees are
cut down for the sake of the twigs as fodder; the flocks are driven to
the mountains in the hope that water may there be found, and every
effort is made to avert the impending ruin; but in spite of all that can
be done the loss is extreme. At length a change takes place, rain falls
abundantly, and the plains, on which but lately not a blade of herbage
was to be seen, and over which the stillness of desolation reigned,
become green with luxuriant vegetation. _Orchideæ_ and thousands of
flowers of the loveliest hues are profusely spread around, as if nature
rejoiced in her renovation, and the grain springing up vigorously gives
promise of an abundant harvest. This change from sterility to abundance
in the vegetable world is accompanied by a correspondent increase of
animal life, the waters become stocked with fish, the marshy districts
with frogs and other reptiles; hosts of caterpillars and other insects
make their appearance, and spreading over the surface of the country
commence the work of devastation, which however is speedily checked by
the birds of various kinds that follow in their train. Attracted by the
abundance of food, hawks of three or four species, in flocks of
hundreds, depart from their usual solitary habits, become gregarious and
busy at the feast, and thousands of Straw-necked Ibises (_Ibis
spinicollis_), and other species of the feathered race, revel in the
profusion of a welcome banquet. It must not however be imagined that
this change is effected without its attendant horrors; the heavy rains
often filling the river-beds so suddenly, that the onward pouring flood
carries with it everything that may impede its course; and woe to the
unhappy settler whose house or grounds may lie within the influence of
the overwhelming floods! A painful instance of the desolating effects of
this sudden irruption of the waters came under my own observation while
travelling in the plains bordering the Lower Namoi in New South Wales.
On pulling up my horse at one of the huts erected by the stock-keepers
charged with the flocks and herds depastured in this vast
grazing-ground, I found it occupied by Lieut. Lowe and his nephew, who
had gone thither for the purpose of being present at the shearing of the
flocks belonging to the former gentleman. Although strangers, their
reception of me was warm and hospitable, and I left them with a promise
of making their abode a resting-place on my return. My second welcome
was such as friends receive from friends, and rejoicing that I had made
the acquaintance of persons so worthy and estimable, I left them busy in
their operations, happy and prosperous. Seven days after my departure
from their dwelling heavy rains suddenly set in; the mountain-streams
swelled into foaming torrents, filling the deep gullies; the rivers
rose, some to the height of forty feet, bearing all before them. The
Namoi having widely overflowed its banks, rolled along with impetuous
fury, sweeping away the huts of the stock-keepers in its course, tearing
up trees, and hurrying affrighted men and flocks to destruction. Before
there was time to escape, the hut in which Lieut. Lowe and his nephew
were sojourning was torn up and washed away, and the nephew and two men,
overwhelmed by the torrent, sank and perished. Lieut. Lowe stripped to
swim, and getting on the trunk of an uprooted tree, hoped to be carried
down the eddying flood to some part where he could obtain assistance.
But he was floated into the midst of a sea of water stretching as far as
he could discern on every side around him. Here he slowly drifted; the
rains had ceased, the thermometer was at 100°, a glaring sun and a
coppery sky were above him; he looked in vain for help, but no prospect
of escape animated him, and the hot sun began its dreadful work. His
skin blistered, dried, became parched and hard, like the bark of a tree,
and life began to ebb. At length assistance arrived—it came too late; he
was indeed just alive, but died almost immediately. He was scorched to
death.
Sir Thomas Mitchell, in his recently published “Journal of an Expedition
into the interior of Tropical Australia,” has given a most vivid picture
of the manner in which floods occasioned by distant rains fill the
river-beds, and which I beg leave to transcribe. Sir Thomas being
somewhat unwell while encamped on the banks of the Macquarie, the
channel of which was deep and dry, sent Mr. Stephenson, one of his
party, to Mount Foster, to make inquiries about the river and the
stations on it lower down. Mr. Stephenson returned early with two of the
mounted police. To his most important question, “What water was to be
found lower down in the river, the reply was, ‘Plenty, and a _flood
coming down_ from the Turòn mountains.’ The two policemen said that they
had travelled twenty miles with it on the day previous, and that it
would still take some time to arrive near our camp.... In the afternoon,
two of the men taking a walk up the river, reported on their return,
that the flood poured in upon them when in the river-bed so suddenly,
that they narrowly escaped it. Still the bed of the Macquarie before our
camp continued so dry and silent, that I could scarcely believe the
flood coming to be real, and so near to us, who had been put to so many
shifts for the want of water. Towards evening I stationed a man with a
gun a little way up the river, with orders to fire on the flood’s
appearance, that I might have time to run and witness what I so much
wished to see, as well from curiosity as from urgent need. The shades of
evening came, however, but no flood, and the man on the look-out
returned to the camp. Some hours later, and after the moon had risen, a
murmuring sound, like that of a distant waterfall, mingled with
occasional cracks, as of breaking timber, drew our attention, and I
hastened to the river-bank. By very slow degrees the sound grew louder,
and at length so audible as to draw various persons besides from the
camp to the river-side. Still no flood appeared, although its approach
was indicated by the occasional rending of trees with a loud noise. Such
a phænomenon in a most serene moonlight night was new to us all. At
length the rushing sound of waters, and loud cracking of timber,
announced that the flood was in the next bend. It rushed into our sight,
glittering in the moonbeams, a moving cataract, tossing before it
ancient trees, and snapping them against its banks. It was preceded by a
point of meandering water, picking its way, like a thing of life,
through the deepest parts of the dark, dry and shady bed, of what thus
again became a flowing river. By my party, situated as we were at that
time, beating about the country, and impeded in our journey solely by
the almost total absence of water,—suffering excessively from thirst and
extreme heat,—I am convinced the scene never can be forgotten. Here came
at once abundance, the produce of storms in the far-off mountains that
overlooked our homes.... The river gradually filled up the channel
nearly bank-high, while the living cataract travelled onward much slower
than I had expected to see it; so slowly, indeed, that more than an hour
after its first arrival the sweet music of the head of the flood was
distinctly audible, as the murmur of waters and diapason crash of logs
travelled slowly through the tortuous windings.... The next morning the
river had risen to within six feet of the top of its banks, and poured
its turbid waters along in fulness and strength, but no longer with
noise. All night that body of water had been in motion downwards, and
seemed to me enough to deluge the whole country.”
So little has as yet been ascertained respecting the climatology of
western, north-western and northern Australia, that it is not known
whether they also are subject to these tremendous visitations; but as we
have reason to believe that the intertropical parts of the country are
favoured with a more constant supply of rain as well as a lower degree
of temperature, it is most probable that they do not there occur.
Independently of the vast accession of birds attracted by the great
supply of food, as mentioned above, there are many species which make
regular migrations, visiting the southern parts of the continent and Van
Diemen’s Land during the months of summer, for the purpose of breeding
and rearing their progeny, and which retire again northwards on the
approach of winter, following in fact the same law which governs the
migrations of the species inhabiting similar latitudes of the Old World.
There are also periods when some species of birds appear to entirely
forsake the part of the country in which they have been accustomed to
dwell, and to betake themselves to some distant locality, where they
remain for five or ten years, or even for a longer period, and whence
they as suddenly disappear as they had arrived. Some remarkable
instances of this kind came under my own observation. The beautiful
little warbling Grass Parrakeet (_Melopsittacus undulatus_), which,
prior to 1838, was so rare in the southern parts of Australia that only
a single example had been sent to Europe, arrived in that year in such
countless multitudes on the Liverpool plains, that I could have procured
any number of specimens, and more than once their delicate bodies formed
an excellent article of food for myself and party. The _Nymphicus
Novæ-Hollandiæ_ forms another case in point, and the Harlequin
Bronze-winged Pigeon (_Peristera histrionica_) a third; this latter bird
occurred in such numbers on the plains near the Namoi in 1839, that
eight fell to a single discharge of my gun; both the settlers and
natives assured me that they had suddenly arrived, and that they had
never before been seen in that part of the country. The aborigines who
were with me, and of whom I must speak in the highest praise, for the
readiness with which they rendered me their assistance, affirmed, upon
learning the nature of my pursuits, that they had come to meet me. The
_Tribonyx ventralis_ may be cited as another species whose movements are
influenced by the same law. This bird visited the colony of Swan River
in 1833, and that of South Australia in 1840, in such countless myriads,
that whole fields of corn were trodden down and destroyed in a single
night; and even the streets and gardens of Adelaide were, according to
Captain Sturt, alive with them.
If we compare the ornithology of Australia with that of any other
country in similar latitudes and of the same extent, we shall find that
it fully equals, if it does not exceed them all, in the number of
species it comprises; and those parts of the country that are still
unexplored doubtless contain many yet to be added to the list of its
Fauna.
In the course of the present work it will be found that I have given a
wide range of habitat to some of the species, and that I have at the
same time pointed out slight variations, not amounting to a specific
difference, in individuals from different localities. This difference I
am unable to account for. I do not believe the birds to be distinct
species, but am inclined to regard them as varieties or races of the
same species, modified by the character of the situations they frequent.
I may mention some curious instances in point: the _Artamus sordidus_ is
a migratory bird in Van Diemen’s Land, and is partially stationary in
New South Wales, yet all the examples procured in the former country are
the largest and most vigorous, which we should naturally attribute to
the excess of food afforded by its more humid climate; but precisely the
reverse of this occurs with regard to the _Graucalus parvirostris_,
which is also a migratory bird in Van Diemen’s Land, and examples of
which, killed in that island, are much more feeble and diminutive than
the _Graucali_ obtained in New South Wales. The _Halcyon sanctus_,
again, whose distribution is universal in Australia, varies somewhat in
size in every colony, still not sufficiently so as to afford any
tangible specific characters.
Upon taking a general view of the Australian ornithology, we find no
species of Vulture, only one typical Eagle, and indeed a remarkable
deficiency in the number of the species of its birds of prey, with the
exception of the nocturnal Owls, among which the members of the
restricted genus _Strix_ are more numerous than in any other part of the
world; a circumstance which is probably attributable to the great
abundance of small nocturnal quadrupeds.
Among the perching birds there is a great excess of the
INSECTIVORÆ—_Podargi_, _Meliphagidæ_, _Maluridæ_, _Gymnorhinæ_, &c., of
the GRANIVORÆ, such as various species of the _Fringillidæ_ and of the
_Psittacidæ_. The latter tribe of birds is more numerous in Australia
than in any other part of the world, and forms four great groups, viz.
the Calyptorhynchi, which mainly procure their food from the _Banksiæ_,
_Casuarinæ_ and _Eucalypti_; the _Cacatuæ_, which feed upon the
terrestrial _Orchideæ_, &c.; the _Trichoglossi_, which subsist upon the
nectar they extract from the flower-cups and blossoms of the
_Eucalypti_; and the ground and grass Parrakeets, which feed almost
exclusively on the seeds of the various grasses that abound on the
plains; the united groups amounting to nearly sixty species.
Of the Rasorial forms,—while the Pigeons and Hemipodes are numerous, the
larger and typical GALLINACEÆ are entirely wanting; their only
representatives being a few species of _Coturnix_ and _Synoïcus_. The
Grallatorial birds are about equal in number to those of other
countries; and among the water birds the true Ducks are but few, while
the _Procellaridæ_ which visit the coast are more abundant than in any
other part of the world. On a retrospect of the whole we find a greater
number of nocturnal birds than is comprised in the ornithology of any
other section of the globe. I must not omit to mention too the
extraordinary fecundity which prevails in Australia, many of its smaller
birds breeding three or four times in a season; but laying fewer eggs in
the early spring when insect life is less developed, and a greater
number later in the season when the supply of insect food has become
more abundant. I have also some reason to believe that the young of many
species breed during the first season, for among others I frequently
found one section of the Honey-eaters (the _Melithrepti_) sitting upon
eggs while still clothed in the brown dress of immaturity; and we know
that such is the case with the introduced GALLINACEÆ, three or four
generations of which have been often produced in the course of a year.