PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE--ARRIVAL AT MOORUNDI--NATIVE GUIDES--NAMES OF
THE PARTY--SIR JOHN BARROW'S MINUTE--REPORTS OF LAIDLEY'S PONDS--CLIMATE
OF THE MURRAY--PROGRESS UP THE RIVER--ARRIVAL AT LAKE BONNEY--GRASSY
PLAINS--CAMBOLI'S HOME--TRAGICAL EVENTS IN THAT NEIGHBOURHOOD--PULCANTI--
ARRIVAL AT THE RUFUS--VISIT TO THE NATIVE FAMILIES--RETURN OF MR. EYRE
TO MOORUNDI--DEPARTURE OF MR. BROWNE TO THE EASTWARD.
Entertaining the views I have explained in my last chapter, I wrote in
January, 1843, to Lord Stanley, at that time Her Majesty's principal
Secretary of State for the Colonies, tendering my services to lead an
expedition from South Australia into the interior of the Australian
continent. As I was personally unknown to Lord Stanley, I wrote at the
same time to Sir Ralph Darling, under whose auspices I had first
commenced my career as an explorer, to ask his advice on so important an
occasion. Immediately on the receipt of my letter, Sir Ralph addressed a
communication to the Secretary of State, in terms that induced his
Lordship to avail himself of my offer.
In May, 1844, Captain Grey, the Governor of South Australia, received a
private letter from Lord Stanley, referring to a despatch his Lordship
had already written to him, to authorise the fitting out of an expedition
to proceed under my command into the interior. This despatch, however,
did not come to hand until the end of June, but on the receipt of it
Captain Grey empowered me to organise an expedition, on the modified plan
on which Lord Stanley had determined.
Aware as I was of the importance of the season in such a climate as that
of Australia, I had written both to the Secretary of State, and to Sir
Ralph Darling, so that I might have time after the receipt of replies
from Europe, in the event of my proposals being favourably entertained,
to make my preparations, and commence my journey at the most propitious
season of the year, but my letter to Sir Ralph Darling unfortunately
miscarried, and did not reach him until three months after its arrival in
England. The further delay which took place in the receipt of Lord
Stanley's despatch, necessarily threw it late in the season before I
commenced my preparations for the long and trying task that was before
me. By the end of July, however, my arrangements were completed, and my
party organised, and only awaited the decision of Mr. John Browne, the
younger of two brothers who were independent settlers in the province,
whose services I was anxious to secure as the medical officer to the
expedition, to fix on the day when it should leave Adelaide.
On the 4th of the month (August), I saw Mr. W. Browne, who informed me
that his brother had determined to accept my proposals, and that he would
join me with the least possible delay; upon which I felt myself at
liberty to make definitive arrangements, and to direct that the main body
of the expedition should commence its journey on Saturday, the 10th. On
the morning of that day I attended a public breakfast, to which I had
been invited by the colonists, at the conclusion of which the party,
under the charge of Mr. L. Piesse (who subsequently acted as storekeeper)
proceeded to the Dry Creek, a small station about five miles from
Adelaide. At that place he halted for the night. Mr. Browne not having
yet joined me, I kept Davenport, one of the men, who was to attend on the
officers, with a riding horse for his use, and the spring cart (in which
the instruments were to be carried), for the purpose of forwarding his
baggage to the Murray, on the banks of which the party was to muster.
I have said that on the 10th of August I attended a public breakfast, to
which I and my party had been invited by the colonists, on the occasion
of our quitting the capital. I may be permitted in these humble pages to
express my gratitude to them for the kind and generous sympathy they have
ever evinced in my success in life, as well as the delicacy and
consideration which has invariably marked the expression of their
sentiments towards me. If, indeed, I have been an instrument, in the
hands of Providence, in bringing about the speedier establishment of the
province of South Australia, I am thankful that I have been permitted to
witness the happiness of thousands whose prosperity I have unconsciously
promoted. Wherever I may go, to whatever part of the world my destinies
may lead me, I shall yet hope one day to return to my adopted home, and
make it my resting-place between this world and the next. When I went
into the interior I left the province with storm-clouds overhanging it,
and sunk in adversity. When I returned the sun of prosperity was shining
on it, and every heart was glad. Providence had rewarded a people who had
borne their reverses with singular firmness and magnanimity. Their
harvest fields were bowed down by the weight of grain; their pastoral
pursuits were prosperous; the hills were yielding forth their mineral
wealth, and peace and prosperity prevailed over the land. May the
inhabitants of South Australia continue to deserve and to receive the
protection of that Almighty power, on whose will the existence of nations
as well as that of individuals depends!
Not having had time as yet to attend to my own private affairs, I was
unable to leave Adelaide for a few days after the departure of Mr.
Piesse. A similar cause prevented Mr. James Poole, who was to act as my
assistant, from accompanying the drays. On the 12th Mr. Browne arrived in
Adelaide, when he informed me that he had remained in the country to give
over his stock, and to arrange his affairs, to prevent the necessity of
again returning to his station. He had now, therefore, nothing to do but
to equip himself, when he would be ready to accompany me. When I wrote to
Mr. Browne, offering him the appointment of medical officer to the
expedition, I was personally unacquainted with him, but I was aware that
he enjoyed the respect and esteem of every one who knew him, and that he
was in every way qualified for the enterprise in which I had invited him
to join. Being an independent settler, however, I doubted whether he
could, consistently with his own interests, leave his homestead on a
journey of such doubtful length as that which I was about to commence.
The spirit of enterprise, however, outweighed any personal consideration
in the breast of that resolute and intelligent officer, and I had every
reason to congratulate myself in having secured the services of one whose
value, under privation, trial, and sickness, can only be appreciated by
myself.
The little business still remaining for us to do was soon concluded, and
as Mr. Browne assured me that it would not take more than two or three
days to enable him to complete his arrangements, I decided on our final
departure from Adelaide on the 15th of the month; for having received my
instructions I should then have nothing further to detain me. That day,
therefore, was fixed upon as the day on which we should start to overtake
the party on its road to Moorundi. The sun rose bright and clear over my
home on the morning of that day. It was indeed a morning such as is only
known in a southern climate; but I had to bid adieu to my wife and
family, and could but feebly enter into the harmony of Nature, as
everything seemed joyous around me.
I took breakfast with my warm-hearted friend, Mr. Torrens, and his wife,
who had kindly invited a small party of friends to witness my departure;
but although this was nominally a breakfast, it was six in the afternoon
before I mounted my horse to commence my journey. My valued friend, Mr.
Cooper, the Judge, had returned to Adelaide early in the day, but those
friends who remained accompanied us across the plain lying to the north
of St. Clare, to the Gawler Town road, where we shook hands and parted.
We reached Gawler Town late at night, and there obtained intelligence
that the expedition had passed Angus Park all well. I also learnt that
Mr. Calton, the master of the hotel, had given the men a sumptuous
breakfast as they passed through the town, and that they had been cheered
with much enthusiasm by the people.
On the 16th we availed ourselves of the hospitality of Mrs. Bagot, whose
husband was absent on his legislative duties in Adelaide, to stay at her
residence for a night. Nothing however could exceed the kindness of the
reception we met from Mrs. Bagot and the fair inmates of her house.
On the 17th we turned to the eastward for the Murray, under the guidance
of Mr. James Hawker, who had a station on the river. At the White Hut,
Mr. Browne, who had left me at Gawler Town, to see his sister at Lyndoch
Valley, rejoined me; and at a short distance beyond it, we overtook the
party in its slow but certain progress towards the river. At the Dust
Hole, another deserted sheep station on the eastern slope of the
mountains, I learnt that Flood, an old and faithful follower of mine,
whom I had added to the strength of the expedition at the eleventh hour,
was at the station. He was one of the most experienced stockmen in the
colonies, and intimately acquainted with the country. I had sent him to
receive over 200 sheep I had purchased from Mr. Dutton, which I proposed
taking with me instead of salt meat. He had got to the Dust Hole in
safety with his flock, and was feeding them on the hills when I passed.
The experiment I was about to make with these animals was one of some
risk; but I felt assured, that under good management, they would be of
great advantage. Not however to be entirely dependent on the sheep, I
purchased four cwt. of bacon from Mr. Johnson of the Reed Beds, near
Adelaide, by whom it had been cured; and some of that bacon I brought
back with me as sweet and fresh as when it was packed, after an exposure
of eighteen months to an extreme of heat that was enough to try its best
qualities. I was aware that the sheep might be lost by negligence, or
scattered in the event of any hostile collision with the natives; but I
preferred trusting to the watchfulness of my men, and to past experience
in my treatment of the natives, rather than to overload my drays. The
sequel proved that I was right. Of the 200 sheep I lost only one by coup
de soleil. They proved a very valuable supply, and most probably
prevented the men from suffering, as their officers did, from that
fearful malady the scurvy.
I had them shorn before delivery, to prepare them for the warmer climate
into which I was going. And I may here remark, although I shall again
have to allude to it, that their wool did not grow afterwards to any
length. It ceased indeed to grow altogether for many months, nor had they
half fleeces after having been so long as a year and a half unshorn.
I did not see Flood at the Dust Hole; but continuing my journey, entered
the belt of the Murray at 1 p.m., and reached Moorundi just as the sun
set, after a ride of four hours through those dreary and stunted brushes.
My excellent friend, Mr. Eyre, had been long and anxiously expecting us.
Altogether superior to any unworthy feeling of jealousy that my services
had been accepted on a field in which he had so much distinguished
himself, and on which he so ardently desired to venture again, his
efforts to assist us were as ceaseless as they were disinterested.
Whatever there was of use in his private store, whether publicly
beneficial or for our individual comfort, he insisted on our taking. He
had had great trouble in retaining at Moorundi two of the most
influential natives on the river to accompany us to Williorara (Laidley's
Ponds). Mr. Eyre was quite aware of the importance of such attachees, and
had spared no trouble in securing their services. Their patience however
had almost given way, and they had threatened to leave the settlement
when fortunately we made our appearance, and all their doubts as to our
arrival vanished. Nothing but jimbucks (sheep) and flour danced before
their eyes, and they looked with eager impatience to the approach of the
drays.
These two natives, Camboli and Nadbuck, were men superior to their
fellows, both in intellect and in authority. They were in truth two fine
specimens of Australian aborigines, stern, impetuous, and determined,
active, muscular, and energetic. Camboli was the younger of the two, and
a native of one of the most celebrated localities on the Murray. It bears
about N.N.E. from Lake Bonney, where the flats are very extensive, and
are intersected by numerous creeks and lagoons. There, consequently, the
population has always been greater than elsewhere on the Murray, and the
scenes of violence more frequent. Camboli was active, light-hearted, and
confiding, and even for the short time he remained with us gained the
hearts of all the party.
Nadbuck was a man of different temperament, but with many good qualities,
and capable of strong attachments. He was a native of Lake Victoria, and
had probably taken an active part in the conflicts between the natives
and overlanders in that populous part of the Murray river. He had
somewhat sedate habits, was restless, and exceedingly fond of the FAIR
sex. He was a perfect politician in his way, and of essential service to
us. I am quite sure, that so long as he remained with the party, he would
have sacrificed his life rather than an individual should have been
injured. I shall frequently have to speak of this our old friend Nadbuck,
and will not therefore disturb the thread of my narrative by relating any
anecdote of him here. It may be enough to state that he accompanied us to
Williorara, even as he had attended Mr. Eyre to the same place only a few
weeks before, and that when he left us he had the good wishes of all
hands.
In the afternoon of the day following that of our arrival at Moorundi,
Mr. Piesse arrived with the drays, and drew them up under the fine
natural avenue that occupies the back of the river to the south of Mr.
Eyre's residence. Shortly afterwards Davenport arrived with the light
cart, having the instruments and Mr. Browne's baggage. Flood also came up
with the sheep, so that the expedition was now complete, and mustered in
its full force for the first time, and consisted as follows of officers,
men, and animals:--
Captain Sturt, LEADER.
Mr. James Poole, ASSISTANT.
Mr. John Harris Browne, SURGEON.
Mr. M'Dougate Stuart, DRAFTSMAN.
Mr. Louis Piesse, STOREKEEPER.
Daniel Brock, COLLECTOR.
George Davenport,) SERVANTS
Joseph Cowley, )
Robert Flood, STOCKMAN.
David Morgan, WITH HORSES.
Hugh Foulkes, )
John Jones, )
---- Turpin, ) BULLOCK DRIVERS
William Lewis, sailor, )
John Mack )
John Kerby, WITH SHEEP.
11 horses; 30 bullocks; 1 boat and boat carriage; 1 horse dray; 1 spring
cart; 3 drays. 200 sheep; 4 kangaroo dogs; 2 sheep dogs.
The box of instruments sent from England for the use of the expedition
had been received, and opened in Adelaide. The most important of them
were two sextants, three prismatic compasses, two false horizons, and a
barometer. One of the sextants was a very good instrument, but the
glasses of the other were not clear, and unfortunately the barometer was
broken and useless, since it had the syphon tube, which could not be
replaced in the colony. I exceedingly regretted this accident, for I had
been particularly anxious to carry on a series of observations, to
determine the level of the interior. I manufactured a barometer, for the
tube of which I was indebted to Captain Frome, the Surveyor-General, and
I took with me an excellent house barometer, together with two brewer's
thermometers, for ascertaining the boiling point of water on Sykes'
principle. The first of the barometers was unfortunately broken on the
way up to Moorundi, so that I was a second time disappointed.
It appears to me that the tubes of these delicate instruments are not
secured with sufficient care in the case, that the corks placed to steady
them are at too great intervals, and that the elasticity of the tube is
consequently too great for the weight of mercury it contains. The
thermometers sent from England, graduated to 127 degrees only, were too
low for the temperature into which I went, and consequently useless at
times, when the temperature in the shade exceeded that number of degrees.
One of them was found broken in its case, the other burst when set to try
the temperature, by the over expansion of mercury in the bulb.
The party had left Adelaide in such haste that it became necessary before
we should again move, to rearrange the loads. On Monday, the 18th,
therefore I desired Mr. Piesse to attend to this necessary duty, and not
only to equalize the loads on the drays, and ascertain what stores we
had, but to put everything in its place, so as to be procured at a
moment's notice.
The avenue at Moorundi presented a busy scene, whilst the men were thus
employed reloading the drays and weighing the provisions. Morgan, who had
the charge of the horse cart, had managed to snap one of the shafts in
his descent into the Moorundi Flat, and was busy replacing it. Brock, a
gunsmith by trade, was cleaning the arms. Others of the men were
variously occupied, whilst the natives looked with curiosity and
astonishment on all they saw. At this time, however, there were not many
natives at the settlement, since numbers of them had gone over the Nile,
to make their harvest on the settlers.
On Monday I sent Flood into Adelaide with despatches for the Governor,
and with letters for my family, as well as to bring out some few trifling
things we had overlooked, and as Mr. Piesse reported to me on that day
that the drays were reloaded, I directed him, after I had inspected them,
to lash down the tarpaulines, and to warn the men to hold themselves in
readiness to proceed on their journey at 8 a.m. on the following
morning--for, as I purposed remaining at Moorundi with Mr. Eyre until
Flood should return, I was unwilling that the party should lose any time,
and I therefore thought it advisable to send the drays on, under Mr.
Poole's charge, until such time as I should overtake him. The spirit
which at this time animated the men ensured punctuality to any orders
that were given to them. Accordingly the bullocks were yoked up, and all
hands were at their posts at early dawn. As, however, I was about to
remain behind for a few days, it struck me that this would be a
favourable opportunity on which to address the men. I accordingly
directed Mr. Poole to assemble them, and with Mr. Eyre and Mr. Browne
went to join him in the flat, a little below the avenue. I then explained
to them that I proposed remaining at Moorundi for a few days after their
departure. I thought it necessary, in giving them over into Mr. Poole's
charge, to point out some of the duties I expected from them.
That in the first place I had instructed Mr. Poole to mount a guard of
two men every evening at sunset, who were to remain on duty until
sun-rise; that I expected the utmost vigilance from this guard, and that
as the safety of the camp would depend on their attention, I should
punish any neglect with the utmost severity. I then adverted to the
natives, and interdicted all intercourse with them, excepting with my
permission. That as I attributed many of the acts of violence that had
been committed on the river to this irritating source, so I would strike
the name of any man who should disobey my orders in this respect off the
strength of the party from that moment, and prevent his receiving a
farthing of pay; or whoever I should discover encouraging any of the
natives, but more particularly the native women, to the camp. I next drew
the attention of the men to themselves, and pointed out to them the ill
effects of discord, expressing my hope that they would be cheerful and
ready to assist one another, and that harmony would exist in the camp;
that I expected the most ready obedience from all to their superiors; and
that, in such case, they would on their part always find me alive to
their comforts, and to their interests. I then confirmed Mr. Piesse in
his post as store-keeper; gave to Flood the general superintendence of
the stock; to Morgan the charge of the horses, and to each bullock-driver
the charge of his own particular team. To Brock I committed the sheep,
with Kirby and Sullivan to assist, and to Davenport and Cowley (Joseph)
the charge of the officers' tents. I then said, that as they might now be
said to commence a journey, from which none of them could tell who would
be permitted to return, it was a duty they owed themselves to ask the
blessing and protection of that Power which alone could conduct them in
safety through it; and having read a few appropriate prayers to the men
as they stood uncovered before me, I dismissed them, and told Mr. Poole
he might move off as soon as he pleased. The scene was at once changed.
The silence which had prevailed was broken by the cracks of whips, and
the loud voices of the bullock-drivers. The teams descended one after the
other from the bank on which they had been drawn up, and filed past
myself and Mr. Eyre, who stood near me, in the most regular order. The
long line reached almost across the Moorundi flat, and looked extremely
well. I watched it with an anxiety that made me forgetful of everything
else, and I naturally turned my thoughts to the future How many of those
who had just passed me so full of hope, and in such exuberant spirits,
would be permitted to return to their homes? Should I, their leader, be
one of those destined to remain in the desert, or should I be more
fortunate in treading it than the persevering and adventurous officer
whose guest I was, and who shrank from the task I had undertaken. My eyes
followed the party as it ascended the gully on the opposite side of the
flat, and turned northwards, the two officers leading, until the whole
were lost to my view in the low scrub into which it entered. I was
unconscious of what was passing around me, but when I turned to address
my companions, I found that I was alone. Mr. Eyre, and the other
gentlemen who had been present, had left me to my meditations.
In the afternoon Kusick, one of the mounted police, arrived with
despatches from the Governor, and letters from my family. He had met
Flood at Gawler Town, whose return, therefore, we might reasonably expect
on the Friday.
Amongst the first purchases that had been made was a horse for the
service of the expedition, which had not very long before been brought in
from Lake Victoria, Nadbuck's location, distant nearly 200 miles from
Adelaide, where he had been running wild for some time. This horse was
put into the government paddock at Adelaide when bought, but he took the
fence some time during the night and disappeared, nor could he be traced
anywhere. Luckily, however, Kusick had passed the horses belonging to the
settlers at Moorundi, feeding at the edge of the scrub upon the cliffs,
and amongst them had recognised this animal, which had thus got more than
90 miles back to his old haunt. He had, however, fallen into a trap, from
which I took care he should not again escape; but we had some difficulty
in running him in and securing him.
Prior to the departure of the expedition from Adelaide, a considerable
quantity of rain had fallen there. Since our arrival at Moorundi also we
could see heavy rain on the hills, although no shower fell in the valley
of the Murray. Kusick informed us that he had been in constant rain, and
it was evident, from the dense and heavy clouds hanging upon them, that
it was still pouring in torrents on the ranges. We feared, therefore, and
it eventually proved to be the case, that Flood would not be able to
cross the Gawler on his return to us. He was, in fact, detained a day in
consequence of the swollen state of that little river, but swam his horse
over on the following day, at considerable risk both to himself and his
animal. He did not, in consequence, reach us until Saturday. In
anticipation, however, of his return on that day, we had sent Kenny, the
policeman stationed at Moorundi who was to accompany Mr. Eyre, up the
river in advance of us at noon, with Tampawang, the black boy I intended
taking with me, and had everything in readiness to follow them, as soon
as Flood should arrive. He did not, however, reach Moorundi until 5 p.m.
It took me some little time to reply to the communications he had
brought, but at seven we mounted our horses, and leaving Flood to rest
himself, and to exchange his wearied animal for the one we had recovered,
with Tenbury in front, left the settlement. The night was cold and
frosty, but the moon shone clear in a cloudless sky, so that we were
enabled to ride along the cliffs, from which we descended to one of the
river flats at 1 a.m. and, making a roaring fire, composed ourselves to
rest.
It may here be necessary, before I enter on any detail of the proceedings
of the expedition, to explain the general nature of my instructions, the
object of the expedition, and the reasons why, in some measure, contrary
to the opinion of the Secretary of State, I preferred trying the interior
by the line of the Darling, rather than by a direct northerly route from
Mount Arden.
As the reader will have understood, I wrote, in the year 1843, to Lord
Stanley, the then colonial minister, volunteering my services to conduct
an expedition into Central Australia. It appeared to his Lordship as well
as to Sir John Barrow, to whom Lord Stanley referred my report, that the
plan I had proposed was too extensive, and it was therefore determined to
adopt a more modified one, and to limit the resources of the expedition
and the objects it was to keep in view, to a certain time, and to the
investigation of certain facts. After expressing his opinion as to the
magnitude of the undertaking I had contemplated, "There is, however,"
says Sir J. Barrow, in a minute to the Secretary of State, "a portion of
the continent of Australia, to which he (Captain Sturt) adverts, that may
be accomplished, and in a reasonable time and at a moderate expense.
"He says, if a line be drawn from lat. 29 degrees 30 minutes and long.
146 degrees, N.W., and another from Mount Arden due north, they will meet
a little to the northward of the tropic, and there, I will be bound to
say, a fine country will be discovered. On what data he pledges himself
to the discovery of this fine country is not stated. It may, however, be
advisable to allow Mr. Sturt to realize the state of this fine country.
"This, however, is not to be done by pursuing the line of the Darling to
the latitude of Moreton Bay, which would lead him not far from the
eastern coast, where there is nothing of interest to be discovered, nor
does it appear advisable to pursue the Darling to the point to which he
and Major Mitchell have already been, for this reason. His preparations
will, no doubt, be made at Adelaide; from thence to the point in question
is about 600 miles, and from this point to the fine country, a little
beyond the tropic, is 700 miles, which together make a journey of 1300
miles. Now a line directly north from Adelaide, through Mount Arden, to
the point where it crosses the former in the fine country, is only 800
miles, making a saving, therefore, of 500 miles, which is of no little
importance in such a country as Australia.
"But Mr. Sturt assigns reasons for supposing that a range of mountains
will be found about the 29th parallel of latitude, and Mr. Eyre, whilst
exploring the Lake he discovered to the northward of the Gulf of St.
Vincent, Adelaide, notices mountains to the N.E., in about the latitude
of 28 degrees. Supposing, then, a range of mountains to exist about that
parallel, their direction will probably be found to run from N.E. to
S.W., which is that generally of the river Darling and its branches; and
in this case it may reasonably be concluded that these mountains form the
division of the waters, and that all the branches of the several rivers
(some of them of considerable magnitude) which have been known to fall
into the bays and gulfs on the W. and N.W. coasts, between the parallels
of 14 degrees and 21 degrees, have their sources on the northern side of
this range of mountains; but, even if no such range exists, it is pretty
evident, from what we know of the southern rivers, adjuncts chiefly of
the Darling, that somewhere about the latitudes of 28 degrees or 29
degrees the surface rises to a sufficient height to cause a division of
the waters, those on the northern side taking a northerly direction, and
those on the southern side a southerly one.
"To ascertain this point is worthy of a practical experiment in a
geographical point of view, as the knowledge of the direction that
mountains and rivers take, the bones and blood vessels of bodies
terrestrial give us at least a picture of the body of that skeleton. To
these Mr. Sturt will no doubt direct his particular attention, as
constituting the main object of such an expedition, and these, with the
great features of the country, its principal productions in the animal
and vegetable part of the creation, the state and condition of the
original inhabitants, will render a great service to the geography of the
southern part of Australia."
On this memorandum the Secretary of State observes, in a private letter
to Captain Grey, that came to hand before the receipt of Lord Stanley's
public despatch:--
"In considering Sir John Barrow's memorandum, enclosed in my public
despatch, you will see that a strong opinion is expressed against
ascending the Darling in the first instance, and in favour of making a
direct northerly course from Adelaide to Mount Arden. I do not wish this
to be taken as an absolute injunction, because I am aware that there may
be local causes why the apparently circuitous route may after all be the
easiest for the transport of provisions, and may really facilitate the
objects of the expedition. In like manner I do not wish to be understood
as absolutely prohibiting a return by Moreton Bay, extensive as that
deviation would be, if it should turn out that the exploration of the
mountain chain led the party so far to the eastward as to be able to
reach that point by a route previously known to Captain Sturt or to Major
Mitchell, more easily than they could return on their steps down the
Darling. What Captain Sturt will understand as absolutely prohibited, is
any attempt to conduct his party through the tropical regions to the
northward, so as to reach the mouths of any of the great rivers. The
present expedition will be limited in its object, to ascertaining the
existence and the character of a supposed chain of hills, or a succession
of separate hills, trending down from N.E. to S.W., and forming a great
natural division of the continent; to examining what rivers take their
source in those mountains, and what appears to be their course; to the
general lie of the country to the N.W. of the supposed chain; and to the
character of the soil and forests, as far as can be ascertained by such
an investigation as shall not draw the party away from their resources,
and shall make the south the constant base of their operations."
I presume, from the tenor of Sir John Barrow's memorandum, that he was
not fully aware of the insurmountable difficulties the course he
recommends presented. Valuing his judgment as I did on such an occasion,
and anxious as I was to act on the suggestions of the Secretary of State,
the strongest grounds could alone have made me pursue a course different
to that which had been recommended to me. Certainly the fear of any
ordinary difficulty would not have influenced me to reject the line
pointed out, but I felt satisfied that if Lord Stanley and Sir John
Barrow could be made aware of the nature of the country to the north of
Mount Arden, and the reasons why I considered it would be more
advantageous to take the line of the Darling, they would have concurred
in opinion with me. I would myself much rather have taken the line by
Mount Arden, since it would have been a greater novelty, and I would have
precluded the chance of any collision with the natives of the Darling,
more especially at that point to which I proposed to go, and at which Sir
Thomas Mitchell had had a rupture with them in 1836. The journeys of Mr.
Eyre had, however, proved the impracticability of a direct northerly
course from Mount Arden. Such a course would have led me into the
horseshoe of Lake Torrens; and although I might have passed to the
westward of it, I could hope for no advantage in a country such as that
which lies to the north of the Gawler Range. On the other hand, the
Surveyor-General of South Australia had attempted a descent into the
interior from the eastward, and had encountered great difficulties from
the want of water. Local inquiry and experience both went to prove the
little likelihood of that indispensable element being found to the north
of Spencer's Gulf. It appeared to me also that Sir John Barrow had
mistaken the point on the Darling to which I proposed going. It was not,
as he seems to have conjectured, to any point to which I had previously
been, but to an intermediate one. It is very true that if I had
contemplated pushing up the Darling to Fort Bourke, the distance would
have been 600 miles, and that, too, in a direction contrary to the one in
which I was instructed to proceed; but to Laidley's Ponds, in lat. 32
degrees 26 minutes 0 seconds S. and long. 142 degrees 30 minutes W., (the
point to which I proposed to go) the distance would have been a little
more than 300 miles. It was from this point that Sir Thomas Mitchell
retreated after his rupture with the natives in 1836; because, as he
himself informs us, he just then ascertained that a small stream joined
the Darling from the westward a little below his camp, and he likewise
saw hills in the same direction.
In consequence of the inhospitable character of the country to the north,
I had turned my attention to the above locality, and had been assured by
the natives, both of the Murray and the Darling, that the Williorara
(Laidley's Ponds) was a hill stream, that it came far from the N.W., that
it had large fish in it, and that its banks were grassy. It struck me,
therefore, that it would be a much more eligible line for the expedition
to run up the Darling to lat. 32 degrees 26 minutes, and then to trace
the Williorara upwards into the hills, with the chance of meeting the
opposite fall of waters, rather than to entangle myself and waste my
first energies amidst scrub and salt lagoons. As I understood my
instructions and the wishes of the Secretary of State, I was to keep on
the 138th meridian (that of Mount Arden) until I should reach the
supposed chain of mountains, the existence of which it was the object of
Lord Stanley to ascertain, or until I was turned aside from it by some
impracticable object. Lake Torrens being due north of Mount Arden would,
if I had taken that line, have been direct in my way, and I should have
had to turn either its eastern or its western flank. The
Surveyor-General, Captain Frome, had tried the former, but although he
went considerably to the eastward into the low and desert interior before
he turned northwards, he still found himself entangled in that sandy
basin, so that it appeared to me that I should do little more than clear
it on the course I proposed to take.
As the reader, however, will learn in the perusal of these pages, I was
wholly disappointed in the character of the Williorara. Where that
channel joins the Darling, the upward course of that river is to the
north-east; and as that was a course directly opposite to the one I felt
myself bound to take, I abandoned it and took at once to the hills. At my
Depot Prison, in lat. 29 degrees 40 minutes, and in long. 141 degrees 30
minutes E., I hoped that we had sufficiently cleared the north-east limit
of Lake Torrens; but when on the fall of rain we resumed our labours, we
measured 131 3/4 miles with the chain before we arrived on the shore of a
vast sandy basin, which I could not cross, and to the northward of which
I could not penetrate. Thus disappointed in my attempt to gain the 138th
meridian on a westerly course, as well as in my anticipation of finding
Lake Torrens connected with some more central feature, it appeared to me
that I could not follow out my instructions better than by attempting to
penetrate towards the centre of the continent on a north-west course, for
it was clear that if there were any ranges or any mountain chains
traversing the interior from north-east to south-west I should
undoubtedly strike them; but that if no such chains existed the proposed
course would take me to the Tropic on the meridian of 138 degrees, and
would enable me to determine the character of the interior, and more
central regions of the continent. In this attempt I succeeded in gaining
the desired meridian, but failed in reaching the Tropic. My position was
about 500 miles north of Mount Arden, 60 miles from the Tropic, and
somewhat less than 150 to the eastward of the centre of the Australian
continent. Forced back to my depot a second time, from the total failure
both of water and grass, in the quarter to which I had penetrated with
the above objects in view, having passed the centre in point of latitude,
I again left it on a due north course to ascertain if there were any
ranges or hills between my position and the Gulf of Carpentaria, as well
as to satisfy myself as to the character and extent of a stony desert I
had crossed on my last excursion. That iron region however again stopped
me in my progress northwards, and obliged me to fall back on a place of
safety. For fourteen months I kept my position in a country which never
changed but for the worse, and from which it was with difficulty that I
ultimately escaped; but as the minuter details of the expedition will be
given in the subsequent pages of this work, any mention of them here
would be superfluous. I shall only express my regret that we were unable
to make the centre or to gain the Tropic. As regards the objects for
which the expedition was fitted out, I hope it will be granted that they
were accomplished, and that little doubt can now be entertained as to the
non-existence of the mountain chains, the supposed existence of which I
was sent to ascertain. It would, however, have gratified me exceedingly
to have crossed into the Tropic, to have decided my own hypothesis as to
the fine country I ventured to predict would be found to exist beyond it.
My reasons for supposing which I thought I had explained in my first
letter to the Secretary of State, but as it would appear from an
observation in Sir John Barrow's memorandum, that I had not done so, I
deem it right briefly to record them here.
I had observed on my first expedition to the Darling, in 1828, when in
about lat. 29 degrees 30 minutes S. that the migration of the different
kinds of birds which visit the country east of the Darling during the
summer, was invariably to the W. N. W. Cockatoos and parrots that whilst
staying in the colony were known to frequent elevated land, and to select
the richest and best watered valleys for their temporary location, passed
in flights of countless number to the above-mentioned point. I had also
observed, during my residence in South Australia, that several of the
same kind of birds annually visited it, and that they came directly from
the north. I had seen the PSYTACUS NOVAE HOLLANDIAE and the SHELL
PARROQUET following the line of the shore of St. Vincent Gulf like
flights of starlings in England, and although intervals of more than a
quarter of an hour elapsed between the passing of one flight and that of
another, they all came from the north and followed in the same direction.
Now, although I am quite ready to admit that the casual appearance of a
few strange birds should not influence the judgment, yet I think that a
reasonable inference may be drawn from the regular and systematie
migration of the feathered races. Now, if we were to draw a line from
Fort Bourke to the W. N. W., and from Mount Arden to the north, we should
find that they would meet a little to the northward of the Tropic, and as
I felt assured of two lines of migration thus tending to the same point,
there could be little doubt but that the feathered races migrating upon
them rested at that point, for a time, so I was led to conclude that the
country to which they went would in a great measure resemble that which
they had left--that birds which delighted in rich valleys, or kept on
lofty hills, surely would not go into deserts and into a flat country;
and therefore it was that I was led to hope, that as the fact of large
migrations from various parts of the continent to one particular part,
seemed to indicate the existence either of deserts or of water to a
certain distance, so the point at which migration might be presumed to
terminate would be found a richer country than any which intervened. On
the late expedition, I accidentally fell into the line of migration to
the north-west, and birds that I was aware visited Van Diemen's Land
passed us, after watering, to that point of the compass. Cockatoos would
frequently perch in our trees at night, and wing their way to the
north-west after a few hours of rest; and to the same point wild fowl,
bitterns, pigeons, parrots, and parroquets winged their way, pursued by
numerous birds of the Accipitrine class. From these indications I was led
still more to conclude that I might hope for the realization of my
anticipations if I could force my own way to the necessary distance.
During our stay at Moorundi, the weather had been beautifully fine,
although it rained so much in the hills. A light frost generally covered
the ground, and a mist rose from the valley of the Murray at early dawn;
but both soon disappeared before the sun, and the noon-day temperature
was delicious--nothing indeed could exceed the luxury of the climate of
that low region at that season of the year, August.
We had directed Kenny, the policeman, and Tampawang, to bivouac in the
valley in which we ourselves intended to sleep, but we saw nothing of
them on our arrival there. The night was bitter cold, insomuch that we
could hardly keep ourselves warm, notwithstanding that we laid under
shelter of a blazing log. As dawn broke upon us, we prepared for our
departure, being anxious to escape from the misty valley to the clearer
atmosphere on the higher ground. At eight a.m. we passed the Great Bend
of the Murray, and I once more found myself riding over ground every inch
of which was familiar to me, since not only on my several journeys down
and up the river had I particularly noticed this spot, but I had visited
it in 1840 with Colonel Gawler, the then Governor of South Australia;
who, finding that he required relaxation from his duties, invited me to
accompany him on an excursion he proposed taking to the eastward of the
Mount Lofty Range, for the purpose of examining the country along the
shores of Lake Victoria and the River Murray, as far as the Great Bend.
It was a part of the province at that time but little known save by the
overlanders, and the Governor thought that by personally ascertaining the
capabilities of the country contiguous to the Murray, he might throw open
certain parts of it for location. Being at that time Surveyor-General of
the Province, I was glad of such an opportunity to extend my own
knowledge of the province to the north and northeast of Adelaide, more
especially as this journey gave me an opportunity to cross from the river
to the hills westward of the Great Bend. Not only was the land on the
Murray soon afterwards occupied to that point, but Colonel Gawler and I
also visited the more distant country on that occasion. Since my return,
indeed, from my recent labours, the line of the Murray is occupied to
within a short distance of the remoter stations of the colony of New
South Wales, and there can be no doubt but that in the course of a few
years the stock stations from the respective colonies will meet. I was
afraid, when I came the second time down the Murray, that I had
exaggerated the number of acres in the valley, but on further
examination, it appears to me that I did not do so; for as the traveller
approaches Lake Victoria the flats are very extensive, but more liable to
inundation than those on the higher points of the river, for being so
little elevated above the level of the water, especially those covered
with reeds, the smallest rise in the stream affects them. Lake Victoria,
although it looks like a clear and open sea, as you look from the point
of Pomundi, which projects into it to the south, is after all exceedingly
shallow, and is rapidly filling up from the decay of seaweed and the
deposits brought into it yearly by the floods of the Murray. No doubt but
that future generations will see that fine sheet of water confined to a
comparatively narrow bed, and pursuing its course through a rich and
extensive plain. When such shall be the case, and that the strength of
the Murray shall be brought to bear in one point only, it is probable its
sea mouth will be navigable, and that the scenery on this river will be
enlivened by the white sails of vessels on its ample bosom. I can fancy
that nothing would be more beautiful than the prospect of vessels,
however small they might be, coming with swelling sails along its
reaches. It may, however, be said, that it will be a distant day when
such things shall be realized. There is both reason and truth in the
remark; but Time, with his silent work, has already raised the flats in
the valley of the Murray, and as we are now benefiting by his labours, so
it is to be hoped will our posterity. However that may be, for it is a
matter only of curious speculation, nothing will stay the progress of
improvement in a colony which has received such an impulse as the
province of South Australia. As men retain their peculiarities, so, I
believe, do communities; and where a desirable object is to be gained, I
shall be mistaken if it is lost from a want of spirit in that colony.
Purposing, however, to devote a few pages to the more particular notice
of the state of South Australia, and the prospects it holds out to those
who may desire to seek in other lands more comforts and a better fortune
than they could command in their native country, I shall not here make
any further observation.
The morning, which had been so cold, gradually became more genial as the
sun rose above us, and both Mr. Eyre and myself forgot that we had so
lately been shivering, under the influence of the more agreeable
temperature which then prevailed.
As we turned the Great Bend of the Murray, and pursued an easterly
course, we rode along the base of some low hills of tertiary fossil
formation, the summits of which form the table land of the interior. We
were on an upper flat, and consequently considerably above the level of
the water as it then was. In riding along, Tenbury pointed out a line of
rubbish and sticks, such as is left to mark the line of any inundation,
and he told us, that, when he was a boy, he recollected the floods having
risen so high in the valley as to wash the foot of these hills. He
stated, that there had been no previous warning; that the weather was
beautifully fine, and that no rain had fallen; and he added that the
natives were ignorant whence the water came, but that it came from a long
way off. According to Tenbury's account, the river must have been fully
five and twenty feet higher than it usually rises; and judging from his
age, this occurrence might have taken place some twenty years before. As
we proceed up the Darling, we shall see a clue to this phenomenon. But
why, it may be asked, do not such floods more frequently occur? Is it
that the climate is drier than it once was, and that the rains are less
frequent? There are vestiges of floods over every part of the continent;
but the decay of debris and other rubbish is so slow, that one cannot
safely calculate how long it may have been deposited where they are so
universally to be found.
After passing the Great Bend, as I have already stated, we turned to the
eastward and overtook Mr. Poole at noon, not more than eight miles
distant. Some of the bullocks had strayed, and he had consequently been
prevented from starting so early as he would otherwise have done. The
animals had, however, been recovered before we reached the party, and
were yoked up; we pushed on therefore to a distance of nine miles,
cutting across from angle to angle of the river, but ultimately turned
into one of the flats and encamped for the night. We passed during the
day through some low bushes of cypresses and other stunted shrubs, but
they were not so thick as to impede our heavy drays, by the weight of
which every tree they came in contact with was brought to the ground. A
meridian altitude of Vega placed us in lat. 34 degrees 4 minutes 20
seconds S., by which it appeared that we had made four miles of southing,
the Great Bend being in lat. 34 degrees. Kenny and Tampawang had joined
the party before we overtook it, and Flood arrived in the course of the
afternoon. The cattle had an abundance of feed round our tents, and near
a lagoon at the upper end of the flat. The thermometer stood at 40
degrees at 7 p.m., with the wind at west.
On the morning of the 26th we availed ourselves of the first favourable
point to ascend from the river flats to the higher ground, since it
prevented our following the windings of the river and shortened our day's
journey. In doing this we sometimes travelled at a considerable distance
from the Murray--the surface of the country was undulating and sandy,
with clumps of stunted cypress trees, and eucalyptus dumosa scattered
over it. Low bushes of rhagodia, at great distances apart, were growing
on the more open ground; the soil, consisting of a red clay and sand,
only superficially covering the fossil formation beneath it. At 11 a.m.
we entered a dense brush of cypress and eucalypti growing in pure sand.
Fortunately for us the overlanders had cut a passage through it, so that
we had a clear road before us, but the drays sunk deep into the loose
sand in which these trees were growing, and the bullocks had a constant
strain on the yoke for six miles. We then broke into more open ground,
and ultimately reached the river in sufficient time to arrange the camp
before sunset, although we had 2 1/2 miles to travel on a S.W. course
before we found a convenient place to stop at. Our course during the day
having been S.S.E., we had thus been obliged to turn back upon it, but
this was owing to the direction the river here takes and was unavoidable.
At 6 p.m. the thermometer stood at 55 degrees of Farenheit, the barometer
at 30.000, and the boiling point of water by two thermometers with a
difference of 2 degrees 212 minutes and 214 minutes, respectively, our
distance from the sea coast being about 120 {180 in published text} miles
as the crow flies.
It was generally thought in Adelaide that having started so late in the
season, I should experience some difficulty in getting feed for the
cattle. From my experience, however, of the seasons in the low region
through which the Murray flows, I had no such anticipation. The only fear
I had, was, that we should be shut out from flats of the river by the
floods, as I knew it would be on the rise at the time we should be upon
it. To this point, however (and I may add, with few exceptions), we found
an abundance of feed, both along the line of the Murray and the Darling,
but at our present encampment our animals fared very indifferently, in
consequence of the poor nature of the soil. Our tents were pitched at the
northern extremity of a long flat, between the river and a serpentine
lagoon, which left but a narrow embankment between itself and the stream.
The soil of the flat was a cold white clay, on which there was scarcely
any vegetation, so that the cattle wandered and kept us about an hour
after our appointed hour of starting. There had been a sharp frost during
the night, and the morning was bitterly cold. At sunrise the thermometer
stood at 29 degrees, the dew point being 43 degrees, and the barometer at
29.700.
When we left this place, our course, for the first three miles, was along
the embankment separating the river from the lagoon, and I remarked that
although there was so little vegetation on the ground, there were some
magnificent trees on the bank of the river itself, which gradually came
up to the north-east. At three miles, however, our further course along
the flats was checked by the hills of fossil formation, which approached
the river so closely as to leave no passage for the drays between it and
them. We were, therefore, obliged to ascend to the upper levels, in doing
so we were also obliged to put two teams, or sixteen bullocks, to each
dray, and even then found it difficult to master the ascent.
Referring back to a previous remark, I would observe that the Murray
river is characterised by bold and perpendicular cliffs of different
shades of yellow colour, varying from a light hue to a deep ochre. These
cliffs rise abruptly from the water to the height of 250 and occasionally
300 feet. They occur first on one side of the river, and then on the
other, there being an open or a lightly-timbered flat on the opposite
side, with a line of trees almost invariably round it, especially along
the river. These flats are backed, at uncertain distances, by the fossil
formation, as by a natural inclosure--sometimes it rises perpendicularly
from the flats, but more generally assumes the character of sloping
hills. The cliffs occasionally extend, like a wall, along the river for
two or three miles, and look exceedingly well; but their constant
recurrence, at length fatigues the eye. At the point at which we had now
arrived this remarkable formation ceases, or, as we are going up the
river, I should perhaps be more correct if I said, begins. Above it a
long line of hills, broken by deep and rugged stony gullies, and with
steep sides, extends to the eastward (that also being the upward course
of the river). On gaining the crest of these hills we found ourselves, as
usual, on a flat table land, notwithstanding the broken faces of the
hills themselves. There was only a narrow space between them, and a low
thick brush of eucalyptus to the north. The soil was, as usual, a mixture
of clay and sand, with small rounded nodules of limestone. From this
ground, the view to the south as a medium point, was over as dark and
monotonous a country as could well be described. There was not a single
break in its sombre hue, nor was there the slightest rise on the visible
horizon; both to the eastward and westward we caught glimpses of the
Murray glittering amidst the dark foliage beneath us, but it made no
change in the character of the landscape.
We kept on the open ground, just cutting the heads of the gullies, and
advanced eight miles before we found a convenient spot at which to drive
the cattle down to water, and feed in the flats below, and into which it
appeared impracticable to get our drays. I halted, therefore, on the
crest of the hills, and sent Flood and three other men to watch the
animals, and to head them back if they attempted to wander. In the
afternoon we went down to the river, and on crossing the flat came upon
the dray tracks of some overland party, the leader of which had taken his
drays down the hills, notwithstanding the apparent difficulty of the
attempt. But what is there of daring or enterprise that these bold and
high-spirited adventurers will shrink from?
I had hoped that the more elevated ground we here occupied, would have
been warmer than the flats on which we had hitherto pitched our tents,
but in this I was disappointed. The night was just as cold as if we had
been in the valley of the Murray. At sunrise the thermometer stood at 27
degrees, and we had thick ice in our pails.
At five miles from this place, having left the river about a mile to our
right, we arrived at the termination of this line of hills. They
gradually fell away to the eastward and disappeared; nor does the fossil
formation extend higher up the Murray. It here commences or terminates,
as the traveller is proceeding up or down the stream. A meridian altitude
on the hill just before we descended, placed it in lat. 34 degrees 9
minutes 56 seconds, so that we had still been going gradually to the
south. At the termination of the hills, the Murray forms an angle in
turning sharp round to that point, and after an extensive sweep comes up
again, so as to form an opposite angle; the distance between the two
being 14 or 15 miles, and from the ground on which we stood the head of
Lake Bonney bore E. 5 degrees S., distant six miles.
On descending from these hills we fell into the overland road, but were
soon turned from it by reason of the floods, and obliged to travel along
a sandy ridge, forming the left bank of a lagoon, running parallel to the
river, into which the waters were fast flowing; but finding a favourable
place to cross, at a mile distant, we availed ourselves of it, and
encamped on the river side. In the afternoon we had heavy rain from the
west. During it, Mr. James Hawker, a resident at Moorundi, joined us, and
took shelter in our tents. He had, indeed, kept pace with us all the way
from the settlement in his boat, and supplied us with wild fowl on
several occasions.
We had showers during the night, but the morning, though cloudy, did not
prevent our moving on to Lake Bonney, distant, according to our
calculation, between four and five miles. To determine this correctly,
however, I ordered Mr. Poole to run the chain from the river to the lake.
We had seen few or no natives as yet; but expecting to find a large party
of them assembled at Lake Bonney, Mr. Eyre went before us with Kenny and
Tenbury, leaving Nadbuck and Camboli to shew us the most direct line to
the mouth of the little channel which connects Lake Bonney with the
Murray, at which I purposed halting. The greater part of our way was
through deep sandy cypress brushes, so that the cattle had a heavy pull
of it. We reached our destination at 1 p.m., where we found Mr. Eyre,
with eight or nine natives, all, who were then in the neighbourhood.
The back-water of the Murray was fast flowing into the lake, which
already presented a broad expanse of water to the eye. It was covered
with wild fowl of various kinds, and there were several patches of reeds
in which they were feeding.
As I purposed stopping for a day or two, to rest the bullocks, I directed
Mr. Poole to survey the lake, whilst I undertook to lay down the creek or
channel connecting it with the river, in which service I enlisted Mr.
Hawker, who had formerly been on the survey, and whose name I gave to the
creek on the completion of our work.
Lake Bonney is a shallow sandy basin, which is annually filled by the
Murray; and as it rises, so, to a certain extent, it falls with the
river, until at length, being left very shallow, it is soon dried up. The
Hawker being too small to discharge the water equally with the fall of
the river, has a current in it after the river has lowered considerably,
for which reason I thought, when I passed it on my second expedition,
that it had been a tributary; but such is not the case--Lake Bonney
receiving no water save from the Murray. To the south of it, or next the
river, the ground is low, grassy, and wooded; but on every other side the
lake is confined by a low sand hill, of about fifteen feet in height,
behind which there is a barren flat covered with salsolaceous plants, and
exactly resembling a dry sea marsh, if I may say so. The more distant
interior is alternate brush and plain, and exceedingly barren. The day
after we arrived, however, Tenbury, with the dogs, killed four large
kangaroos and as he saw many more, it is to be presumed that thereabouts
they are pretty numerous. The lake is ten miles in circumference.
Hawker's Creek, taking its windings, is nearly six in length. The
latitude of our camp was 34 degrees 13 minutes 42 seconds S.; its
longitude 140 degrees 26 minutes 16 seconds. On September 1st. the
thermometer, at 8 A. M. and at noon, stood at 48 degrees and 60 degrees
respectively; the barometer at 29.750, and the boiling point was 212
degrees nearly, thus indicating that we had risen but a few feet above
the level of the sea. We left Lake Bonney on the 3rd of September, and
crossing the bank of sand by which it is confined, traversed the flat
behind it for about three miles, when we ascended some feet, and entered
a low brush that continued for nearly nine miles, with occasional
openings in it to that angle of the river which is opposite to the one at
the end of the fossil formation.
Our camp at this place was on one of the prettiest spots on the Murray.
Our tents were pitched on some sloping ground, sheltered from the S.W.
wind. The feed was excellent, and the soil of better quality than usual.
We had a splendid view of the river, which here is very broad and flanked
on the right by a dark clay cliff, which is exceedingly picturesque. On
the opposite side of the stream there is an extensive, well wooded and
grassy flat of beautiful and park-like appearance. Altogether it was a
cheerful and pleasant locality, and we were sorry to leave it so soon.
Our observations placed us in lat. 34 degrees 11 minutes 12 seconds S.
and in long. 140 degrees 39 minutes 42 seconds E. From this point the
general course of the Murray is much more to the north than heretofore,
so that on leaving it we had more of northing in our course than anything
else. Some strange natives brought up our cattle for us, to whom I made
presents; but although so kindly disposed, they did not follow us.
Indeed, the natives generally, seemed to regard our progress with
suspicion, and could not imagine why we were going up the Darling with so
many drays and cattle. Our sheep had now become exceedingly tame and
tractable; they followed the party like dogs, and I therefore felt
satisfied that I had not done wrong in bringing them with me. We
travelled on the 4th, over harder and more open ground than usual, having
extensive polygonium flats to our right. There were belts of brush
however on the plains, the soil and productions of which were sandy and
salsolaceous. At 4 1/2 miles we struck a lagoon, and coming upon a creek
at 13 miles, we halted, although the feed was bad, as the cattle were
unable to get to the river flats in consequence of the flooded state of
the creek itself.
On the 5th we travelled through a country that consisted almost entirely
of scrub on the poorest soil. However, we were now approaching that part
of the river at which the flats (extensive enough) are intersected by
numerous creeks and lagoons, so that our approach to the Murray was
likely to be cut off altogether. At 3 1/2 miles we again struck the creek
on the banks of which we had slept, and as it was the point at which the
native path from Lake Bonney also strikes it, I halted to take a meridian
altitude, which placed it in 34 degrees 4 minutes 5 seconds S. We had
allowed our horses to go and feed with their bridles through the
stirrups, and were sitting on the ground when we heard a shot, and a
general alarm amongst them, insomuch that we had some difficulty in
quieting them, more especially Mr. Poole's horse. It was at length
discovered that one of that gentleman's pistols had accidentally gone off
in the holster, to the dismay of the poor animal. Fortunately no damage
was done.
After noon, we pushed on, and at a mile crossed a creek, where we found a
small tribe of scrub natives, one of whom had a child of unusual fatness:
its flesh really hung about it; a solitary instance of the kind as far as
I am aware. We then traversed good grassy plains for about two miles,
when we fell in with another small tribe on a second creek: our
introduction to which was more than ordinarily ceremonious. The natives
remained seated on the ground, with the women and children behind them,
and for a long time preserved that silence and reserve which is peculiar
to these people when meeting strangers; however, we soon became more
intimate, and several of them joined our train. Our friend Nadbuck was
very officious (not disagreeably so, however), on the occasion, and
shewed himself a most able tactician, since he paid more attention to the
fair than his own sex, and his explanation of our movements seemed to
have its due weight.
We soon passed from the grassy plains I have mentioned, to plains of
still greater extent, and still finer herbage. Nothing indeed could
exceed the luxuriance of the grass on these water meadows, for we found
on crossing that the floods were beginning to incroach upon them. These
were marked all over with cattle tracks, many of them so fresh that they
could only have been made the night before, but independently of these
there were others of older date. The immense number of these tracks led
me to inquire from the natives if there were any cattle in the
neighbourhood, when they informed me that there were numbers of wild
cattle in the brushes to the westward of the flats, and that they came
down at night to the river for water and food. The grass upon the plain
over which we were travelling was so inviting, that I determined to give
the horses and bullocks a good feed, and turning towards the river with
Mr. Eyre, I directed Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne to try the brushes with
Flood and Mack, for a wild bullock, whilst we arranged the camp. We
scarcely had time to do this, however, when Mr. Browne returned to inform
me that soon after gaining the brush they had fallen in with a herd of
about fifty cattle, out of which they had singled and shot a fine animal,
and that on his way back to the camp the dogs had killed a large
kangaroo. Upon this I sent Morgan with the cart to fetch in the quarters
of the animal, and desired the natives to go with him to benefit by what
might be left behind, and to feast on the kangaroo. The beast the party
had killed fully justified Mr. Browne's account of it, and its fine
condition proved the excellent nature of the pastures on which it had
fed. We had not killed many of the sheep, as I was anxious to preserve
them, since they had given us little or no trouble, so that I was led to
hope that by ordinary care they would prove a most valuable and important
stock.
We were here unable to approach the river, and therefore encamped near a
creek, the banks of which were barren enough; however, as we had stopped
for the benefit of the cattle it was of no consequence. But although on
this occasion they were absolutely up to their middles in the finest
grass, the bullocks were not satisfied, but with a spirit of
contradiction common to animals as well as men they separated into mobs
and wandered away; the difficulty of recovering them being the greater,
because of the numerous tracks of other cattle in every direction around
us. We recovered them, however, although too late to move that day, and
it is somewhat remarkable to record, that this was the only occasion on
which during this long journey we were delayed for so long a time by our
animals wandering. Had it not been for Tampawang, whose keen eye soon
detected the fresher tracks, we might have been detained for several
days.
As Mr. Browne had been on horseback the greater part of the day, I left
him in the camp with Mr. Poole, both having been after the cattle, and in
the afternoon walked out with Mr. Eyre, to try if we could get to the
river, but failed, for the creeks were full of water, and our approach to
it or to the nearer flats was entirely cut off. So intersected indeed was
this neighbourhood, that we got to a point at which five creeks joined.
The scene was a very pretty one, since they formed a sheet of water of
tolerable size shaded by large trees. The native name of this place was
"Chouraknarup," a name by no means so harmonious as the names of their
places generally are. We had not commenced any collection at this time,
there being nothing new either in the animals or plants, but I observed
that everything was much more forward on this part of the river than near
Lake Bonney, although there was no material difference between the two
places in point of latitude. A meridian altitude of the sun gave our
latitude 34 degrees 1 minutes 33 seconds S., and one of Altair 34 degrees
2 minutes 2 seconds S.
The night of the 6th Sept. was frosty and cold, and we had thick ice in
the buckets. We left our camp on a N. by E. course, at 8 o'clock on the
morning of the 7th, and at 4 miles struck the river, where its breadth
was considerable, and it looked exceedingly well. The flooded state of
the creeks however prevented our again approaching it for several days.
Shortly after leaving the river we turned more to the eastward, having
gained its most northern reach. About noon we fell in with a few natives,
who did not trouble themselves much about us, but we found that their
backwardness was rather the result of timidity at seeing such a party
than anything else. We traversed large and well-grassed flats almost all
day long, and ultimately encamped on the banks of a creek of some size,
opposite to our tents the floods had made an island, on which we put our
cattle for security during the night.
Mr. Eyre and I were again disappointed in an attempt to gain the banks of
the Murray, but we returned to the camp with a numerous retinue of men,
women, and children, who treated us to a corrobori at night. The several
descriptions which have been given by others of these scenes, might
render it unnecessary for me to give my account of such here; but as my
ideas of these ceremonies may differ from that of other travellers, I
shall trespass on the patience of my readers for a few moments to
describe them. However rude and savage a corrobori may appear to those to
whom they are new, they are, in truth, plays or rather dramas, which it
takes both time and practice to excel in. Distant tribes visiting any
other teach them their corrobori, and the natives think as much of them
as we should do of the finest play at Covent Garden. Although there is a
great sameness in these performances they nevertheless differ. There is
always a great bustle when a corrobori is to be performed, and the men
screw themselves up to the acting point, as our actors do by other means
than these poor creatures possess. On the present occasion there was not
time for excitement; our's was as it were a family corrobori, or private
theatricals, in which we were let into the secrets of what takes place
behind the scenes. A party of the Darling natives had lately visited the
Murray, and had taught our friends their corrobori, in which, however,
they were not perfect; and there was consequently a want of that
excitement which is exhibited when they have their lesson at their
fingers' ends, and are free to give impulse to those feelings, which are
the heart and soul of a corrobori.
We had some difficulty in persuading our friends to exhibit, and we owed
success rather to Mr. Eyre's influence than any anxiety on the part of
the natives themselves. However, at last we persuaded the men to go and
paint themselves, whilst the women prepared the ground. It was pitch
dark, and ranging themselves in a line near a large tree, they each lit a
small fire, and had a supply of dry leaves to give effect to the acting.
On their commencing their chanting, the men came forward, emerging from
the darkness into the obscure light shed by the yet uncherished fires,
like spectres. After some performance, at a given signal, a handful of
dry leaves was thrown on each fire, which instantly blazing up lighted
the whole scene, and shewed the dusky figures of the performers painted
and agitated with admirable effect, but the fires gradually lowering, all
were soon again left in obscurity.
But, as I have observed, for some reason or other the thing was not
carried on with spirit, and we soon retired from it; nevertheless, it is
a ceremony well worth seeing, and which in truth requires some little
nerve to witness for the first time.
We had now arrived at Camboli's haunt, and were introduced by him to his
wife and children, of whom he seemed very proud; but a more ugly partner,
or more ugly brats, a poor Benedict could not have been blessed with.
Whether it was that he wished to remain behind, for he had not been very
active on the road, or taken that interest in our proceedings which
Nadbuck had done; or that our praises of his wife and pickaninnies had
had any effect I know not, but he would not leave his family, and so
remained with them when we left on the following morning. The
neighbourhood of our camp was, however, one of great celebrity--since in
it some of the most remarkable and most tragical events had taken place.
It was near it that the volunteers who went out to rescue Mr. Inman's
sheep, which had been seized by the natives to the number of 4,000, were
driven back and forced to retreat; not, I would beg to be understood,
from want of spirit, but because they were fairly overpowered and caught
in a trap. The whole of the party, indeed, behaved with admirable
coolness, and one of them, Mr. Charles Hawker, as well as their leader,
Mr. Fidd, shewed a degree of moderation and forbearance on the occasion
that was highly to their credit. Here also was the Hornet's Nest, where
the natives offered battle to my gallant friend, Major O'Halloran, whose
instructions forbade his striking the first blow. I can fancy that his
warm blood was up at seeing himself defied by the self-confident natives;
but they were too wise to commence an attack, and the parties, therefore,
separated without coming to blows. Here, or near this spot also, the old
white-headed native, who used to attend the overland parties, was shot by
Miller, a discharged soldier, I am sorry to say, of my own regiment. This
old man had accompanied me for several days in my boat, when I went down
the Murray to the sea coast in 1830, and I had made him a present, which
he had preserved, and shewed to the first overland party that came down
the river, and thenceforward he became the guide of the parties that
followed along that line. He attended me when I came overland from
Sydney, in 1838, on which occasion he recognised me, and would sleep no
where but at my tent door. He was shot by Miller in cold blood, whilst
talking to one of the men of the party of which unfortunately he had the
charge; but retribution soon followed. Miller was shortly afterwards
severely wounded by the natives; and, having aneurism of the heart, was
cautioned by his medical attendant never to use violent exercise; but,
disregarding this, when he had nearly recovered, he went one day to visit
a friend at the gaol in which he ought to have been confined, and in
springing over a ditch near it, fell dead on the other side, and wholly
unprepared to appear before that tribunal, to which he will one day or
other be summoned, to answer for this and other similar crimes.
About a dozen natives followed us from our camp, on the morning of the
8th. We again struck the creek, on which we had rested, and which had
turned to our right at 2 1/2 miles on an east by south course, and
followed along its banks, until it again trended too much to the south.
We crossed alluvial flats of considerable extent, on which there was an
abundance of grass. Just at the point at which we turned from the creek,
we ascended a small sand hill, covered with the amaryllis, then
beautifully in flower. The latitude of this little hill, from which the
cliffs on the most northern reach of the Murray bore N. 170 degrees E.
distant four miles, was 33 degrees 57 minutes 11 seconds; so that the
Murray does not extend northwards beyond latitude 34 degrees 1 minutes or
thereabouts. We again struck the creek, the course of which had been
marked by gum-trees, at six miles, and were forced by it to the N.E., but
ultimately turned it and descended southwards to the river; but as we
were cut off from it we encamped on a lagoon of great length, backed by
hills of a yellow and white colour, the rock being a soft and friable
sandstone, slightly encrusted with salt. We had, shortly before we
halted, passed a salt lagoon in the centre of one of the grassy flats,
but such anomalies are not uncommon in the valley of the Murray. That
part of the river which I have described, from the point where we shot
the bullock to this lagoon, appeared to me admirably adapted for a cattle
station, and has since been occupied as such.
As I have observed, the lagoon on which we encamped was backed by hills
of 150 or 200 feet elevation, which were covered with thick brush wood.
The flat between us and these hills was unusually barren, and all the
trees at the side of the lagoon were dead. Whether this was owing to
there being salt in the ground or to some other cause, there was here but
little grass for the cattle to eat, so that, although they were watched,
twenty of them managed to crawl away, and we were consequently delayed
above an hour and a half after our usual hour of starting, and commenced
our day's journey wanting two of our complement, but we stumbled upon
them in passing through the brush, in which they were very comfortably
lying down. We travelled for about six miles through a miserable
undulating country of sand and scrub. At noon we were abreast of a little
sandy peak that was visible from our camp, and is a prominent feature
hereabouts. This peak Mr. Browne and I ascended, though very little to
our gratification, for the view from it was as usual over a sea of scrub
to whatever quarter we turned. The peak itself was nothing more than a
sandy eminence on which neither tree or shrub was growing, and the whole
locality was so much in unison with it, that we called it "Mount Misery."
After passing this hill, and forcing through some stunted brush, we
debouched on open plains and got once more on the overland road, which
was distinctly marked by a line of bright green grass, that was springing
up in the furrows the drays had left. This road took us to the edge of a
precipitous embankment, from which we overlooked the river flowing
beneath it. This embankment was 60 or 70 feet high, and presented a steep
wall to the river; for although the Murray had lost the fossil cliffs it
was still flanked by high level plains on both sides, and cliffs of 100
or 120 feet in height, composed of clay and sand, rose above the stream,
the faces of which presented the appearance of fretwork, so deeply and
delicately had they been grooved out by rains. The soil of this upper
table land was a bright red ferruginous clay and sand. The vegetation was
chiefly salsolaceous, but there was, notwithstanding, no want of grass
upon it, though the tufts were very far apart. If our cattle had fared
badly at our last camp, they had no reason to complain at this; for we
encamped on a beautifully green flat, about seven miles short of the
Rufus, and about eight from the nearest point of Lake Victoria. There
were now seventeen natives in our train, amongst whom was one of
remarkable character. This was "Pulcanti," who was engaged in, wounded
and taken prisoner at an affair on the Rufus, to which I shall again have
to allude.
Whilst the police were conveying this man handcuffed to Adelaide, he
threw himself off the lofty cliffs at the Great Bend into the river
beneath, and attempted to escape by swimming across it, but he was
recaptured and taken safe to Adelaide, where subsequent kind treatment
had considerable influence on his savage disposition. His attempt to
escape was of the boldest kind, and was spoken of with astonishment by
those who witnessed it, but so desperate an act only proved how much more
these people value liberty than life. I am sure that bold savage would
have submitted to torture without a groan; he was the most repulsive
native in aspect that I ever saw, and had a most ferocious countenance.
The thick lip and white teeth, the lowering brow, and deep set but sharp
eye, with the rapidly retiring forehead all betrayed the savage with the
least intellect, but his demeanour was now quiet and inoffensive.
Mr. Eyre again preceded us to the Rufus, with Kenny and Tenbury; for
although we had been disappointed in seeing any natives at Lake Bonney,
it was hardly to be doubted but that we should find a considerable number
at Lake Victoria.
We joined Mr. Eyre about noon at the junction of the Rufus with the
Murray, and which serves like Hawker's Creek as a channel of
communication between that river and the Murray. Here Mr. Eyre had
collected 69 natives, who were about to go out kangarooing when he
arrived. They had their hunting spears and a few waddies, but no other
weapons.
We had now arrived at Nadbuck's native place, and he left us to join his
family, promising still to accompany us up the Darling. A principal
object Mr. Eyre had in joining me had been to distribute some blankets to
those natives who, living in the distance, seldom came to Moorundi to
benefit by the distribution of food and clothing there. In the position
we now occupied we were flanked by the Rufus to our left, and had the
Murray in front of us. The ground in our rear and to our right was rather
bushy, and numerous Fusani, covered with fruit, were growing there; Lake
Victoria being about four miles to our rear also. Considering the spirit
of the natives on this part of the Murray, the position was not very
secure, as we were too confined; but I had no apprehension of any attack
from them, they having for some time shewn a more pacific disposition,
and against whom we were otherwise always well prepared. As soon,
therefore, as the tents were pitched, we walked together along the bank
of the Rufus to its junction with the lake, but not seeing any of the
native families we turned back, until observing some young men on the
opposite side of the channel we called to them, and one of them ferried
us over in a canoe. We had then a long round of visits to make to the
different families of the natives, since they were all encamped on the
eastern or opposite side of the Rufus.
The first huts to which we went happened to be that of our friend
Nadbuck, and he introduced us, as Camboli had done, to his wives and
children, of whom the old gentleman was very proud. We then visited
eleven other huts in succession, after which we returned to the place
where the canoe had been left, with twelve patriarchs, to whom Mr. Eyre
(wisely selecting the oldest) intended making some presents. We were
again ferried across the Rufus, the current setting strong into Lake
Victoria at the time, and had well nigh gone down in our frail bark, to
the infinite amusement of our Charon. We had just time, however, to reach
the bank and to get out of her when she went down.
It was at this particular spot that the natives sustained so severe a
loss when Pulcanti was taken. They got between two fires, that of Mr.
Robinson's party of overlanders, with whom they had been fighting for
three days; and a party of police who, providentially for Mr. Robinson,
came up just in time to save him from being overwhelmed by numbers.
Astonished at finding themselves taken in flank, the blacks threw
themselves into the Rufus, and some effected their escape, but about
forty fell, whose grave we passed on our way back to the camp.
The natives who accompanied us pointed out the mound to Mr. Eyre and
myself as we walked along, and informed us that thirty of their relatives
laid underneath; but they did not seem to entertain any feelings of
revenge for the loss they had sustained.
On the morrow, my worthy friend left me, on his return to Moorundi,
together with Kenny and Tenbury, and a young native of the Rufus. We all
saw them depart with feelings of deep regret; but Mr. Eyre had important
business to attend to which did not admit of delay.
A little before Mr. Eyre mounted his horse, I had sent Mr. Browne, with
Flood and Pulcanti, to the eastward, to ascertain how high the backwaters
of the Murray had gone up the Ana-branch of the Darling, since that
ancient channel laid right in our way, and I was anxious if possible to
run up it, rather than proceed to the river itself, as being a much
nearer line. In the afternoon Mr. Poole and I moved the camp over to the
lake, and on the following day I directed him to ascertain its
circumference, as we should be detained a day or two awaiting the return
of Mr. Browne.