THE HORSES--ASCEND THE HILLS--IRRESOLUTION AND RETREAT--HORSES REDUCED TO

GREAT WANT--UNEXPECTED RELIEF--TRY THE DESERT TO THE N.E.--FIND WATER IN

OUR LAST WELL--REACH THE CREEK--PROCEED TO THE EASTWARD--PLAGUE OF FLIES

AND ANTS--SURPRISE AN OLD MAN--SEA-GULLS AND PELICANS--FISH--POOL OF

BRINE--MEET NATIVES--TURN TO THE N.E.--COOPER'S CREEK TRIBE, THEIR

KINDNESS AND APPEARANCE--ATTEMPT TO CROSS THE PLAINS--TURN BACK--PROCEED

TO THE NORTHWARD--EFFECTS OF REFRACTION--FIND NATIVES AT OUR OLD CAMP AND

THE STORES UNTOUCHED--COOPER'S CREEK, ITS GEOGRAPHICAL POSITION.

I had taken all the horses, with the exception of one, out with me on

this journey, and as they will shortly bear a prominent part in this

narrative, I will make some mention of them. My own horse was a grey--for

which reason I called him Duncan,--I had ridden him during the whole

period of my wanderings, and think I never saw an animal that could

endure more, or suffered less from the want of water; he was aged, and a

proof, that in the brute creation as well as with mankind, years give a

certain stamina that youth does not possess. This animal, as the reader

will believe, knew me well, as indeed did all the horses, for I had stood

by to see them watered many a time. Mr. Stuart rode Mr. Browne's horse, a

little animal, but one of great endurance also; Mack used a horse we

called the Roan, a hunter that had been Mr. Poole's. Morgan rode poor

Punch, whose name I have before had occasion to mention, and who,

notwithstanding subsequent rest, had not recovered from the fatigues of

his northern excursion. Besides these we had four pack horses:--Bawley, a

strong and compact little animal, with a blaze on the forehead, high

spirited, with a shining coat, and having been a pet, was up to all kind

of tricks, but was a general favourite, and a nice horse;--the other was

Traveller, a light chesnut, what the hunter would call a washy brute,

always eating and never fat;--the Colt, so called from his being young,

certainly unequal to such a journey as that on which he was taken;--and

Slommy, another aged horse. During the summer, Traveller had had a great

discharge from the nose, and I was several times on the point of ordering

him to be shot, under an apprehension that his disease was the glanders;

but, although the colt and my own horse contracted it, I postponed my

final mandate, and all recovered; however, he continued weak. At this

time they were unshod, and had pretty well worn their hoofs down to the

quick, insomuch that any inequality in the ground made them limp, and it

was distressing to ride them; but, notwithstanding, they bore up

singularly against the changes and fatigues they had to go through.

From a small rising ground near where we stopped in the valley, on the

occasion of which I am speaking, and in the obscure light of departing

day we saw to the N.N.W. a line of dark looking hills, at the distance of

about ten or twelve miles, but we could not discover tree or bush upon

them, all we could make out was that they were dark objects above the

line of horizon, and that the intervening country seemed to be as dark as

they were. The weather had changed from cold to hot, the wind having

flown from S. to the N.E., and the day and night were exceedingly warm. I

was sorry to observe, too, that the horses had scarcely touched the grass

on which, for their sakes, I had been tempted to stop, and that they were

evidently suffering from the previous day's journey of from 34 to 36

miles, that being about the distance we had left the water in the grassy

valley. Before mounting, on the morning of the 21st, Mr. Stuart and I

went to see if we could make out more than we had been able to do the

night before, what kind of country was in front of us, but we were

disappointed, and found that we should have to wait patiently until we

got nearer the hills to judge of their formation. About half a mile below

where we had slept, the valley led to the N.N.E., and on turning, we

found it there opened at once upon the Stony Desert; but the hills were

now hid from us by sandy undulations to our left, and even when we got

well into the plain we could hardly make out what the hills were. As we

neared them, however, we observed that they were nothing more than high

sand hills, covered with stones even as the desert itself, to their tops.

That part of it over which we were riding also differed from any other

portion, in having large sharp-pointed water-worn rocks embedded in the

ground amongst the stones, as if they had been so whilst the ground was

soft. There was a line of small box-trees marking the course of a creek

between us and the hills, and a hope that we should find water cheered us

for a moment, but that ray soon vanished when we saw the nature of its

bed. We searched along it for about half an hour in vain, and then turned

to the hills and ascended to the top of one of the highest, about 150

feet above the level of the plain. From it the eye wandered hopelessly

for some bright object on which to rest. Behind us to the south-east lay

the sand hills we had crossed, with the stony plain sweeping right round

them, but in every other direction the dark brown desert extended. The

line of the horizon was broken to the north-west and north by hills

similar to the one we had ascended; but in those directions not a blade

of grass, not a glittering spot was to be seen.

At this point, which I have placed in lat. 25 degrees 54 minutes and in

long. 139 degrees 25 minutes, I had again to choose between the chance of

success or disaster, as on the first occasion; if I went on and should

happen to find water, all for the time would be well, if not, destruction

would have been inevitable. I was now nearly 50 miles from water, and

feared that, as it was, some of my horses would fall before I could get

back to it, yet I lingered undecided on the hill, reluctant to make up my

mind, for I felt that if I thus again retired, it would be a virtual

abandonment of the task undertaken. I should be doing an injustice to Mr.

Stuart and to my men if I did not here mention that I told them the

position we were placed in, and the chance on which our safety would

depend if we went on. They might well have been excused if they had

expressed an opinion contrary to such a course, but the only reply they

made was to assure me that they were ready and willing to follow me to

the last. After this, I believe I sat on the hill for more than half an

hour with the telescope in my hand, but there was nothing to encourage me

onwards; our situation, however, admitted not of delay. I might, it is

true, have gone on and perished with all my men; but I saw neither the

credit nor the utility of such a measure. I trust the reader will believe

that I would not have shrunk from any danger that perseverance or

physical strength could have overcome; that indeed I did not shrink from

the slow fate, which, as far as I could judge, would inevitably have

awaited me if I had gone on; but that in the exercise of sound discretion

I decided on falling back. The feeling which would have led me onwards

was similar to that of a man who is sensible of having committed an

error, yet is ashamed to make an apology, and who would rather run the

risk of being shot, than of having the charge of pusillanimity fixed upon

him; but I have never regretted the step I took, and it has been no small

gratification to me to find that the Noble President of the Royal

Geographical Society, Lord Colchester, when addressing the members of

that enlightened body, in its name presenting medals to Dr. Leichhardt

and myself, for our labours in the cause of Geography, alluded to and

approved "the prudence with which further advance was abandoned, when it

could only have risked the loss of those entrusted to my charge."

We slowly retraced our steps to the valley in which we had slept, and I

stopped there for half an hour, but none of the horses would eat, with

the exception of Traveller, and he certainly made good use of his time.

The others collected round me as I sat under a tree, with their heads

over mine, and my own horse pulled my hat off my head to engage my

attention. Poor brute! I would have given much at that moment to have

relieved him, but I could not. We were all of us in the same distress,

and if we had not ultimately found water must all have perished together.

Finding that they would not eat, we saddled and proceeded onwards, I

should say backwards--and at 10 p.m. we were on the sand ridges. At the

head of the valley Traveller fell dead, and I feared every moment that we

should lose the Colt. At one I stopped to rest the horses till dawn, and

then remounted, but Morgan and Mack got slowly on, so that I thought it

better to precede them, and if possible to take some water back to

moisten the mouth of their horses, and I accordingly went in advance with

Mr. Stuart. I thought we should never have got through the dead box-tree

forest I have mentioned, however we did so about 11 a.m., and made

straight for the spot where we expected to relieve both ourselves and our

horses, but the water was gone. Mr. Stuart poked his fingers into the mud

and moistened his lips with the water that filled the holes he had made,

but that was all. We were yet searching for water when Morgan and Mack

appeared, but without the colt; fortunately they had descended into the

valley higher up, and had found a little pool, which they had emptied,

under an impression that we had found plenty; and were astonished at

hearing that none any longer remained. In this situation, and with the

apparent certain prospect of losing my own and Mr. Browne's horse, and

the colt which was still alive when the men left him, not more than a

mile in the rear, we continued our search for water, but it would have

been to no purpose. Suddenly a pigeon topped the sand hill--it being the

first bird we had seen--a solitary bird--passing us like lightning, it

pitched for a moment, and for a moment only, on the plain, about a

quarter of a mile from us, and then flew away. It could only have wetted

its bill, but Mr. Stuart had marked the spot, and there was water.

Perhaps I ought to dwell for a moment on this singular occurrence, but I

leave it to make its own impression on the reader's feelings. I was

enabled to send back to the colt, and we managed to save him, and as

there was a sufficiency of water for our consumption, I determined to

give the men a day of rest, and to try if I could find a passage across

the Desert a little to the eastward of north, and with Mr. Stuart

proceeded in that direction on the morning of the 24th; but at 3 p.m. we

were out of sight of all high land. The appearance of the Desert was like

that of an immense sea beach, and large fragments of rock were imbedded

in the ground, as if by the force of waters, and the stones were more

scattered, thus shewing the sandy bed beneath and betwixt them. The day

was exceedingly hot, and our horses' hoofs were so brittle that pieces

flew off them like splinters when they struck them against the stones. We

were at this time about sixteen or seventeen miles from the sand hill

where we had left the men. The Desert appeared to be taking a northerly

direction, and certainly was much broader than further to the westward,

making apparently for the Gulf of Carpentaria; nor could I doubt but that

there had once been an open sea between us and it. We reached our little

bivouac at 9 p.m. both ourselves and our horses thoroughly wearied, and

disappointed as we had been, I regretted that I had put the poor things

to unnecessary hardships. Perhaps I was wrong in having done so, but I

could not rest. Our latitude here was 26 degrees 26 minutes and our long.

by account 139 degrees 21 minutes. In the morning we crossed the

remaining portion of the Desert, as I had determined on making the best

of my way to the creek, and passing the sandy ridges reached our first

water (the 4th going out), about sunset or a little before. Water still

remained, but it was horridly thick, and in the morning smelt so

offensive that it was loathsome to ourselves and the animals. Our great,

indeed our only, dependence then was on the water in the little channel

on the grassy plain; at this we arrived late on the afternoon of the

25th. Another day and we should again have been disappointed: the water

on which I had calculated for a fortnight was all but gone. In the

morning we drained almost the last drop out of the channel. We were now

about 92 miles from the creek, without the apparent probability of relief

till we should get to it, for it seemed hopeless to expect that we should

find any water in the wells we had dug. Crossing the grassy plains on an

east-north-east course, we passed the salt lake about 10 a.m. to our

left, and ran along the sandy ridges between it and our encampment of the

15th, where we had made our second well, at 6 p.m., but it was dry and

the bottom cracked and baked.

I would gladly have given my poor horses a longer rest than prudence

would have justified, but we had not time for rest. At 8 we again

mounted, and went slowly on; and when darkness closed around us lit a

small lamp, and one of us walking in front led the way for the others to

follow; thus tracking our way over those dreary regions all night long,

we neared our last remaining well, 36 miles distant from the creek, just

as morning dawned. Objects were still obscure as we approached the spot

where our hopes rested, for our horses could hardly drag one foot after

the other. Mr. Stuart was in front, and called to me that he saw the

little trees under whose shade we had slept; soon after he said he saw

something glittering where the well was, and immediately after shouted

out, "Water, water." It is impossible for me to record all this without a

feeling of more than thankfulness to the Almighty Power that guided us.

At this place we were still 180 miles from Fort Grey; and if we had not

found this supply, it is more than probable the fate of our horses would

have sealed our own. As it was we joyfully unsaddled, and, after

watering, turned them out to feed. Singular it was that the well on which

we had least dependence, and from which we had been longest absent,

should thus have held out--but so it was. At 9 we resumed our journey,

there being about half a gallon a-piece for the horses just before we

started; but although this, and the short rest they had, had relieved

them, they got on slowly; and it was not until after midnight of the

27th, a.m. indeed of the 28th, that we reached the creek, with two short

of our complement of horses, the Roan and the Colt both having dropped on

the plains, but fortunately at no great distance, so that we recovered

them in the course of the day.

It will naturally be supposed that, arrived at a place of safety, we here

rested for a while; but my mind was no sooner relieved from one cause for

anxiety, than it was filled with another. If I except the thunder-storm

which had enabled me to undertake my late journey from the creek, no rain

had fallen, the weather had suddenly become oppressively hot, with a sky

as clear as ether. I had still the mountain range to the N.E. to examine,

and the upper branches of the creek, and in this necessary survey I knew

no time was to be lost. Indeed I doubted if my return to the Depot was

not already shut out, by the drying up of the water in Strzelecki's

Creek, although I hoped Mr. Browne still held his ground; but not only

was I anxious on these heads, but as to our eventual retreat from these

heartless regions. I would gladly have rested for a few days, for I was

beginning to feel weak. From the 20th of July, and it was now the last

day but two of October, I had been in constant exercise from sunrise to

sunset; and if I except the few days I had rested at the Depot, had slept

under the canopy of heaven. My food had been insufficient to support me,

and I had a malady hanging upon me that was slowly doing its work; but I

felt that I had no time to spare, and, as I could not justify indulgence

to myself, so on the 29th we commenced our progress up the creek, but

halted at six miles on a beautiful sheet of water, and with every promise

of success. In the course of the day we passed a singularly large grave.

It was twenty-three feet long, and fourteen broad. The boughs on the top

of it were laid so as to meet the oval shape of the mound itself, but the

trees were not carved, nor were there any walks about it, as I had seen

in other parts of the continent.

Before we commenced our journey up the creek, I determined to secrete all

the stores I could, in order to lighten the loads of the horses as much

as possible, for they were now almost worn out; but it was difficult to

say where we should conceal them, so as to be secure from the quick eyes

of the natives. At first I thought my best plan would be to dig a hole

and bury them, and then to light a fire, so as to obliterate the marks;

but I changed my purpose, and placed them under a rhagodia bush, a short

distance from the creek, and arranged some boughs all round it. In this

place I hoped they would escape observation, for there were one or two

things I should have exceedingly regretted to lose.

The weather had been getting warmer and warmer, and it had at this time

become so hot that it was almost intolerable, worse indeed than at this

season the previous year. The 30th was a day of oppressive heat, and the

flies and mosquitoes were more than usually troublesome. I have not said

much of these insects in the course of this narrative, for after all they

are secondary objects only; but it is impossible to describe the

ceaseless annoyance of these and a small ant. The latter swarmed in

myriads in the creek and on the plains, and what with these little

creatures at night, and the flies by day, we really had no rest. I

continually wore a veil, or I could not have attended to our movements,

or performed my duties. It is probable that being in the neighbourhood of

water they were more numerous, but here they were a perfect plague, and

in our depressed and wearied condition we, perhaps, felt their attacks

more than we should otherwise have done. We commenced our journey at

seven, and crossing the creek at three-quarters of a mile, ascended a

small sand hill upon its proper left bank. Where we had crossed the

channel was perfectly dry, but from the sand hill another magnificent

sheet of water stretched away to the southeast as far as we could see.

From this point the creek appeared to be bounded by forest land, partly

scrubby and partly grassed. To the south there were flats seemingly

subject to floods, and lightly timbered, and beyond these were low sand

hills. To the S.W. a high line of trees marked the course of a tributary

from that quarter. To the north the country was exceedingly sandy and

low, as well as to the east; and the direction of the sand ridges was

only 5 degrees to the west of north, so that from this point to our

extreme west they gradually alter their line 17 degrees, as in 138

degrees of longitude they ran 22 degrees to the west of north. I was not

able to take more than one bearing from the hill I had ascended, to a

remarkable flat-topped hill nearly N.E. I now crossed the creek on an

east course, and traversed sandy plains, and low undulations, there being

a tolerable quantity of grass on both; and at four miles changed the

route a little to the northward for a small conical sand hill, from which

the flat-topped hill bore 41 degrees, and from it some darker hills were

visible, somewhat more to the eastward, and as they appeared to be

different from the sand ridges, I again changed my course for them, and

crossing the bed of the creek at four miles, ascended a small stony range

trending to the eastward, the creek being directly at their base.

Following up its proper left bank I ascended another part of the range at

three miles and a half, from which the flat-topped hill bore 24 degrees,

and the last hill I had ascended 239 degrees. The channel of the creek

had been dry for several miles, but we now saw a large sheet of water

bearing due east, distant two miles, to which we made our way, and then

stopped. From the top of this range the creek seemed to pass over

extensive and bare plains in many branches, southward there were some

stony hills, treeless and herbless, like those nearer to us. I was fairly

driven down to the valley by the flies, as numerous on the burning stones

on the top of the hill as any where else, and I left a knife and a pocket

handkerchief behind me. Notwithstanding the magnificent sheet of water we

were now resting near, I began thus early to doubt the character of this

creek. It had changed so often during the day, at one place having a

broad channel, at another splitting into numerous small ones, having a

great portion of its bed dry, and then presenting large and beautiful

reaches to view, that I hardly knew what opinion to form of it; I also

observed that it was leading away from the hills and taking us into a low

and desolate region, almost as bad as that to the westward; however, time

alone was to prove whether I was right in my surmises.

In the afternoon two natives made their appearance on the opposite side

of the water, and I walked over to them, as I could not by any signs

induce them to come to us. They were not bad looking men, and had lost

their two front teeth of the upper jaw. To one I gave a tomahawk, and a

hook to the other, but when I rose to depart, they gave them both back to

me, and were astonished to find that I had intended them as presents.

Seeing, I suppose, that we intended them no injury, these men in the

morning went on with their ordinary occupations, and swimming into the

middle of the water began to dive for mussels. They looked like two seals

in the water with their black heads, and seemed to be very expert: at all

events they were not long in procuring a breakfast.

Notwithstanding the misgivings I had as to the creek, the paths of the

natives became wider and wider as we advanced. They were now as broad as

a footpath in England, by a road side, and were well trodden; numerous

huts of boughs also lined the creek, so that it was evident we were

advancing into a well peopled country, and this circumstance raised my

hopes that it would improve. As, however, our horses had no longer a

gallop in them, we found it necessary to keep a sharp look out; although

the natives with whom we had communicated, did not appear anxious to

leave the place as they generally are to tell the news of our being on

the creek to others above us.

On the 31st we started at 7 a.m., and at a mile and a half found ourselves

at the termination of the stony ranges to our left. They fell back to the

north, and a larger plain succeeded them. At two miles we crossed a small

tributary, and passed over a stony plain, from which we entered an open

box-tree forest extending far away to our left. At five miles and a half

we found ourselves again on the banks of the creek, where it had an upper

and a lower channel, that is to say, it had a lower channel for the

stream, and an upper one independently of it. In the lower bed there was

a little water, and we therefore stopped for a short time, the day being

exceedingly hot. While here we saw a native at some water a little lower

down, mending a net, but did not call to him. On resuming our journey we

kept in the upper channel, and had not ridden very far when we saw a

native about 150 yards ahead of us, pulling boughs. On getting nearer we

called out to him, but to no purpose. At the distance of about 70 yards,

we called out again, but still he did not hear, perhaps because of the

rustling of the boughs he was breaking down. At length he bundled them

up, and throwing them over his shoulder, turned from us to cross to the

lower part of the creek, when suddenly he came bolt up against us. I

cannot describe his horror and amazement,--down went his branches,--out

went his hands,--and trembling from head to foot, he began to shout as

loud as he could bawl. On this we pulled up, and I desired Mr. Stuart to

dismount and sit down. This for a time increased the poor fellow's alarm,

for he doubtless mistook man and horse for one animal, and he stretched

himself out in absolute astonishment when he saw them separate. When Mr.

Stuart sat down, however, he stood more erect, and he gradually got

somewhat composed. His shouting had brought another black, who had stood

afar off, watching the state of affairs, but who now approached. From

these men I tried to gather some information, and my hopes were greatly

raised from what passed between us, insomuch that one of the men could

not help expressing his hope that we were now near the long sought for

inland sea.

On my seeking to know, by signs, to what point the creek would lead us,

the old man stretched out his hand considerably to the southward of east,

and spreading out his fingers, suddenly dropped his hand, as if he

desired us to understand that it commenced, as he shewed, by numerous

little channels uniting into one not very far off. On asking if the

natives used canoes, he threw himself into the attitude of a native

propelling one, which is a peculiar stoop, in which he must have been

practised. After going through the motions, he pointed due north, and

turning the palm of his hand forward, made it sweep the horizon round to

east, and then again put himself into the attitude of a native propelling

a canoe. There certainly was no mistaking these motions. On my asking if

the creek went into a large water, he intimated not, by again spreading

out his hand as before and dropping it, neither did he seem to know

anything of any hills. The direction he pointed to us, where there were

large waters, was that over which the cold E.S.E. wind I have noticed,

must have passed. This poor fellow was exceedingly communicative, but he

did not cease to tremble all the while we were with him. After leaving

him, the creek led us up to the northward of east, and we cut off every

angle by following the broad and well beaten paths crossing from one to

the other. At three miles I turned to ascend a conical sand hill, from

whence the country appeared as follows: to the north were immense plains,

with here and there a gum-tree on them; they were bounded in the distance

by hills that I took to be the outer line of the range we purposed

visiting; to the eastward the ground was undulating and woody; and

southward, the prospect was bounded by low stony elevations, or a low

range. The course of the creek was now north-east, in the direction of

two distant sand hills. We now ran along it for seven miles, under an

open box-tree forest, varying in breadth from a quarter of a mile to two

miles; the creek frequently changed from a broad channel to a smaller

one, but still having splendid sheets of water in it. At length, as we

pushed up, it became sandy, and the lofty gum-trees that had ornamented

it, gradually disappeared. Nevertheless we encamped on a beautiful spot.

The 1st of November broke bright and clear over us. Started at seven, the

poor horses scarcely able to draw one leg after the other, the Roan

having worn his hoof down the quick was exposed and raw, and he walked

with difficulty. At a mile and a half we ascended an eminence, and to the

eastward, saw a magnificent sheet of water to which we moved, and at five

miles reached a low stony range, bounding the creek to the north; having

ridden along a broad native path the whole of that distance, close to the

edge of the above mentioned water. There were large rocks in the middle

of it, and pelicans, one swan, several sea-gulls, and a number of

cormorants on its bosom, together with many ducks, but none would let us

within reach. We next ran on a bearing of 75 degrees, or nearly east,

along a large path, crossing numerous small branches of the creek, with

deep and sandy beds, and occasionally over small stony plains. At noon we

were at some distance from the creek, but then went towards it. The

gum-trees were no longer visible, but melaleucas, from fifteen to twenty

feet high, lined its banks like a copse of young birch. We now observed a

long but somewhat narrow sheet of water, to which we rode; our suspicions

as to its quality being roused by its colour, and the appearance of the

melaleuca. It proved, as we feared, to be slightly brackish, but not

undrinkable. Near the edge of the water, or rather about four or five

feet from it, there was a belt of fine weeds, between which and the shore

there were myriads of small fish of all sizes swimming, similar to those

we had captured to the westward, in the fourth or O'Halloran's Creek.

Here then was not only the clue as to how fish got into that isolated

pond, but a proof of the westerly fall of the interior, since there was

now no doubt whatever, but that the whole of the country Mr. Browne and I

had traversed, even to the great sand hills on this side the Stony

Desert, was laid under water, and by the overflow of this great creek

filled the several creeks, and inundated the several plains that we had

crossed. By so unexpected a fact, was this material point discovered. The

Roan, at this time, could hardly walk, and not knowing when or at what

distance we might again find water, or what kind of water it would be, I

stopped on reaching the upper end of this pool, but even there it had a

nasty taste, nor were any fish to be seen; a kind of weed covered the bed

of the creek, and it looked like an inlet of the sea.

I was exceedingly surprised that we had not seen more natives, and

momentarily expected to come on some large tribe, but did not, and what

was very singular, all the paths were to the right, and none on the

southern bank of the creek.

The weather continued intensely hot, and the flies swarmed in hundreds of

thousands. The sky was without a cloud, either by day or night, and I

could not but be apprehensive as to the consequences if rain should not

fall; it was impossible that the largest pools could stand the rapid

evaporation that was going on, but I did not deem it right to unburden my

mind, even to Mr. Stuart, at this particular juncture.

On the morning of the 2nd of November the horses strayed for the first

time, and delayed us for more than two hours, and we were after all

indebted to three natives for their recovery, who had seen them and

pointed out the direction in which they were. It really was a distressing

spectacle to see them brought up, but their troubles and sufferings were

not yet over. The Roan was hardly able to move along, and in pity I left

him behind to wander at large along the sunny banks of the finest

water-course we had discovered.

Starting at 10 a.m. we crossed the creek, and traversed a large sandy

plain, intersected by numerous native paths, that had now become as wide

as an ordinary gravel walk. From this plain we observed a thin white line

along the eastern horizon. The plain itself was also of white sand, and

had many stones upon it, similar in substance and shape to those on the

Stony Desert, but there was, not withstanding, some grass upon it. A

little above where we had slept, we struck a turn or angle of the creek

where there was a beautiful sheet of water, but of a deep indigo blue

colour. This was as salt as brine, insomuch that no animal could possibly

have lived in it, and we observed water trickling into it from many

springs on both sides. At four miles when we again struck the creek,

after having crossed the plain, the water was perfectly fresh and sweet

in a large pool close to which we passed. Here again there were several

sea-gulls sitting on the rocks in the water, and a good many cormorants

in the trees, yet I do not think there were any fish in this basin; I

have no other reason for so thinking, however, than that we never saw

any, either swimming in the water or rising to its surface in the

coolness of evening on the sheets of fresh water. There might, however,

have been fish of large size in the deep pools of this creek, although I

would observe that I had two reasons for believing otherwise. The first

was, that, the meshes of the nets used by the natives, of which we

examined several hanging in the trees, were very small, and that among

the fish bones at the natives' fires, we never saw any of a larger size

than those we had ourselves captured, and it was evident that at this

particular time, it was not the fishing season. I was led to think, that

the water in which we noticed so many swimming about, was sacred, and

that it is only when the creek overflows, that the fish are generally

distributed along its whole line, that the natives take them. Certainly,

to judge from the smooth and delicate appearance of the weeds round that

sheet of water the fish were not disturbed.

We had been riding for some time on the proper right {LEFT in published

text} bank of the creek, but I at length crossed to the right and altered

my course to E.S.E., but shortly afterwards ran due east across earthy

plains covered with grass in tufts and very soft, but observing that I had

got outside of the native tracks, and that there was no indication of the

creek in front, I turned to the S.E. and at five miles struck a small

sandy channel which I searched in vain for water; I therefore left it,

crossing many similar channels still on a S.E. course; but observing

that they all had level sandy beds, I gave up the hope of finding

water in them and turned to the south, as the horses were not in a

condition to suffer from want. At about two miles I ascended a sand

hill, but could not see any thing of the creek; it was now getting

late and two of the horses were hardly able to get along. Had we

halted then, there was not a tree or a bush to which we could have

tethered our animals, anxious too to get them to water I turned to

the west, and at a mile got on a native path, that ultimately led me

to the creek, and we pulled up at a small pond, where there was better

feed than we had any right to expect.

We had hardly arranged our bivouac, when we heard a most melancholy

howling over an earthen bank directly opposite to us, and saw seven black

heads slowly advancing towards us. I therefore sent Mr. Stuart to meet

the party and bring them up. The group consisted of a very old blind man,

led by a younger one, and five women. They all wept most bitterly, and

the women uttered low melancholy sounds, but we made them sit down and

managed to allay their fears. It is impossible to say how old the man

was, but his hair was white as snow, and he had one foot in the grave.

These poor creatures must have observed us coming, and being helpless,

had I suppose thought it better to come forward, for they had their huts

immediately on the other side of the bank over which they ventured. We

gave the old man a great coat, as the most useful present, and he seemed

delighted with it. I saw that it was hopeless to expect any information

from this timid party, so I made no objection to their leaving us after

staying for about half an hour. Our latitude here, by an altitude of

Jupiter, was 27 degrees 47 minutes S.; our longitude by account 141

degrees 51 minutes E.

The plains we had crossed during the day were very extensive, stretching

from the north-west, to the south-east, like an open sea. They were

thinly scattered over with box-trees, and comprised hundreds of thousands

of acres of flooded grassy land. It is worthy of remark that none of

these plains existed to the south of the creek, in which quarter the

country was very barren, neither were there any native paths. We were at

this time in too low a position to see any of the mountain ranges of

which I have spoken. As the old native with the boughs had told us, the

creek led us to the southward of east, and consequently away from them,

and I feared that his further information would prove correct, and that

we should soon arrive at its commencement.

The morning of the 3rd of November was as cloudy as the night of the 2nd

had been, during which it blew violently from the N.W., and a few

heat-drops fell, but without effect on the temperature. One of the horses

got bogged in attempting to drink, and Mack's illness made it nine before

we mounted and resumed our journey up the creek, on a N.N.E. course, but

it gradually came round to north. At six miles we crossed the small and

sandy bed of a creek coming from the stony plains to the south, and

beneath a tree, near two huts, observed a large oval stone. It was

embedded in the ground, and was evidently used by the natives for

pounding seeds. We now proceeded along a broad native path towards some

gum-trees, having stony undulating hills upon our right. Underneath the

trees there was a fine deep pool in the channel of the creek, which had

again assumed something of its original shape; but as we were in an

immense hollow or bowl, and the view was very limited, I branched off to

the hills, then not more than half a mile distant. From their summit the

country to the south and south-west appeared darkly covered with brush;

to the west, there were numerous stony undulations; northward and to the

east were immense grassy plains, with many creeks, all making for a

common centre upon them. In the near ground to the south-east, the

surface of the country was of fine white sand, partly covered with

salsolaceous plants, with small fragments of stone, and patches of more

grassy land. There was no fixed point on which to take a bearing, nor

could we see anything of the higher ranges, now to the north-west of us.

In returning to the creek, we observed a body of natives to our left.

They were walking in double file, and approaching us slowly. I therefore

pulled up, and sent Mr. Stuart forward on foot, following myself with his

horse. As he neared them the natives sat down, and he walked up and sat

down in front of them. The party consisted of two chiefs and fourteen

young men and boys. The former sat in front and the latter were ranged in

two rows behind. The two chiefs wept as usual, and in truth shed tears,

keeping their eyes on the ground; but Mr. Stuart, after the interview,

informed me that the party behind were laughing at them and sticking

their tongues in their cheeks. One of the chiefs was an exceedingly tall

man, since he could not have measured less than six feet three inches,

and was about 24 years of age. He was painted with red ochre, and his

body shone as if he had been polished with Warren's best blacking. His

companion was older and of shorter stature. We soon got on good terms

with them, and I made a present of a knife to each. They told us, as

intelligibly as it was possible for them to do, that we were going away

from water; that there was no more water to the eastward, and, excepting

in the creek, none anywhere but to the N.E. I had observed, indeed, that

the native paths had altogether ceased on the side of the creek on which

we then were (the south or left bank), and the chief pointed that fact

out to me, explaining that we should have to cross the creek at the head

of the water, under the trees, and get on a path that would lead us to

the N.E. On this I rose up and mounting my horse, riding quietly towards

it, descended into the bed of the creek, in which the natives had their

huts, but their women and children were not there. The two chiefs and the

other natives had followed, but, the former only crossed the creek and

accompanied us. We almost immediately struck on the native path which, as

my tall friend had informed me, led direct to the N.E.

I was not at first aware, what object our new friends had in following or

rather accompanying us; but, at about a mile and a half, we came to a

native hut at which there was an old man and his two lubras. The tall

young man introduced him to us as his father, in consequence of which I

dismounted, and shook hands with the old gentleman, and, as I had no

hatchet or knife to give him, I parted my blanket and gave him half of

it. We then pro ceeded on our journey, attended as before, and at a mile,

came on two huts, at which there were from twelve to fifteen natives.

Here again we were introduced by our long-legged friend, who kept pace

with our animals with ease, and after a short parley once more moved on,

but were again obliged to stop with another tribe, rather more numerous

than the last, who were encamped on a dirty little puddle of water that

was hardly drinkable; however, they very kindly asked us to stay and

sleep, an honour I begged to decline. Thus, in the space of less than

five miles, we were introduced to four different tribes, whose collective

numbers amounted to seventy-one. The huts of these natives were

constructed of boughs, and were of the usual form, excepting those of the

last tribe, which were open behind, forming elliptic arches of boughs,

and the effect was very pretty.

These good folks also asked us to stop, and I thought I saw an expression

of impatience on the countenance of my guide when I declined, and turned

my horse to move on. We had been riding on a sandy kind of bank, higher

than the flooded ground around us. The plains extended on either side to

the north and east, nor could we distinctly trace the creek beyond the

trees at the point we had crossed it, but there were a few gum-trees

separated by long intervals, that still slightly marked its course. When

we left the last tribe, we rode towards a sand hill about half a mile in

front, and had scarcely gone from the huts when our ambassadors, for in

such a light I suppose I must consider them, set off at a trot and

getting a-head of us disappeared over the sand hill. I was too well aware

of the customs of these people, not to anticipate that there was

something behind the scene, and I told Mr. Stuart that I felt satisfied

we had not yet seen the whole of the population of this creek; but I was

at a loss to conjecture why they should have squatted down at such muddy

puddles, when there were such magnificent sheets of water for them to

encamp upon, at no great distance; however, we reached the hill soon

after the natives had gone over it, and on gaining the summit were hailed

with a deafening shout by 3 or 400 natives, who were assembled in the

flat below. I do not know, that my desire to see the savage in his wild

state, was ever more gratified than on this occasion, for I had never

before come so suddenly upon so large a party. The scene was one of the

most animated description, and was rendered still more striking from the

circumstance of the native huts, at which there were a number of women

and children, occupying the whole crest of a long piece of rising ground

at the opposite side of the flat.

I checked my horse for a short time on the top of the sand hill, and

gazed on the assemblage of agitated figures below me, covering so small a

space that I could have enclosed the whole under a casting net, and then

quietly rode down into the flat, followed by Mr. Stuart and my men, to

one of whom I gave my horse when I dismounted, and then walked to the

natives, by whom Mr. Stuart and myself were immediately surrounded.

Had these people been of an unfriendly temper, we could not by any

possibility have escaped them, for our horses could not have broken into

a canter to save our lives or their own. We were therefore wholly in

their power, although happily for us perhaps, they were not aware of it;

but, so far from exhibiting any unkind feeling, they treated us with

genuine hospitality, and we might certainly have commanded whatever they

had. Several of them brought us large troughs of water, and when we had

taken a little, held them up for our horses to drink; an instance of

nerve that is very remarkable, for I am quite sure that no white man,

(having never seen or heard of a horse before, and with the natural

apprehension the first sight of such an animal would create,) would

deliberately have walked up to what must have appeared to them most

formidable brutes, and placing the troughs they carried against their

breast, have allowed the horses to drink, with their noses almost

touching them. They likewise offered us some roasted ducks, and some

cake. When we walked over to their camp, they pointed to a large new hut,

and told us we could sleep there, but I had noticed a little hillock on

which there were four box-trees, about fifty yards from the native

encampment, on which, foreseeing that we could go no farther, I had

already determined to remain, and on my intimating this to the natives

they appeared highly delighted; we accordingly went to the trees, and

unsaddling our animals turned them out to feed. When the natives saw us

quietly seated they came over, and brought a quantity of sticks for us to

make a fire, wood being extremely scarce.

The men of this tribe were, without exception, the finest of any I had

seen on the Australian Continent. Their bodies were not disfigured by any

scars, neither were their countenances by the loss of any teeth, nor were

they circumcised. They were a well-made race, with a sufficiency of

muscular development, and stood as erect as it was possible to do,

without the unseemly protrusion of stomach, so common among the

generality of natives. Of sixty-nine who I counted round me at one time,

I do not think there was one under my own height, 5 feet 10 3/4 inches,

but there were several upwards of 6 feet. The children were also very

fine, and I thought healthier and better grown than most I had seen, but

I observed here, as elsewhere amongst smaller tribes, that the female

children were more numerous than the males, why such should be the case,

it is difficult to say. Whilst, however, I am thus praising the personal

appearance of the men, I am sorry to say I observed but little

improvement in the fairer sex. They were the same half-starved unhappy

looking creatures whose condition I have so often pitied elsewhere.

These were a merry people and seemed highly delighted at our visit, and

if one or two of them were a little forward, I laid it to the account of

curiosity and a feeling of confidence in their own numbers. But a little

thing checked them, nor did they venture to touch our persons, much less

to put their hands into our pockets, as the natives appear to have done,

in the case of another explorer. It is a liberty I never allowed any

native to take, not only because I did not like it, but because I am sure

it must have the effect of lowering the white man in the estimation of

the savage, and diminishing those feelings of awe and inferiority, which

are the European's best security against ill treatment. The natives told

us, that there was no water to the eastward, and that if we went there we

should all die. They explained that the creek commenced on the plains, by

spreading out their fingers as the old man had done, to shew that many

small channels made a large one, pointing to the creek, and they said the

water was all gone to the place we had come from; meaning, to the lower

part of it. On asking them by signs, if the creek continued beyond the

plains, they shook their heads, and again put their extended hand on the

ground, pointing to the plain. They could give us no account of the

ranges to which I proposed going, any more than others we had asked. On

inquiring, if there was any water to the north-west a long discussion

took place, and it was ultimately decided that there was not. I could

understand, that several of them mentioned the names of places where they

supposed there might be water, but it was evidently the general opinion

that there was none. Neither did they appear to know of any large waters,

on which the natives had canoes, in confirmation of the old man's

actions. On this interesting and important point they were wholly

ignorant.

The smallness of the water-hole, on which these people depended, was

quite a matter of surprise to me, and I hardly liked to let the horses

drink at it, in consequence. At sunset all the natives left us (as is

their wont at that hour), and went to their own encampment; nor did one

approach us afterwards, but they sat up to a late hour at their own camp,

the women being employed beating the seed for cakes, between two stones,

and the noise they made was exactly like the working of a loom factory.

The whole encampment, with the long line of fires, looked exceedingly

pretty, and the dusky figures of the natives standing by them, or moving

from one hut to the other, had the effect of a fine scene in a play. At

11 all was still, and you would not have known that you were in such

close contiguity to so large an assemblage of people.

When I laid down, I revolved in my own mind what course I should pursue

in the morning. If the account of the natives was correct, it was clear

that my further progress eastward, was at an end. My horses, indeed, were

now reduced to such a state, that I foresaw my labours were drawing to a

close. Mack, too, was so ill, that he could hardly sit his animal, and

although I did not anticipate any thing serious in his case, anything

tending to embarrass was now felt by us. Mr. Stuart and Morgan held up

well, but I felt myself getting daily weaker and weaker. I found that I

could not rise into my saddle with the same facility, and that I lost

wind in going up a bank of only a few feet in height. I determined,

however, on mature consideration, to examine the plain, and to satisfy

myself before I should turn back, as to the fact of the creek commencing

upon it. Accordingly, in the morning, we saddled and loaded our horses,

but none of the natives came to us until we had mounted; when they

approached to take leave, and to persuade us not to go in the direction

we proposed, but to no purpose. The pool from which they drew their

supply of water, was in the centre of a broad shallow grassy channel,

that passed the point of the sand hill we had ascended, and ran up to the

northward and westward; we were, therefore, obliged to cross this

channel, and soon afterwards got on the plains. They were evidently

subject to flood, and were exceedingly soft and blistered; the grass upon

them grew in tufts, not close, so that in the distance, the plains

appeared better grassed than they really were. At length, we got on a

polygonum flat of great size, in the soil of which our horses absolutely

sunk up to the shoulder at every step. I never rode over such a piece of

ground in my life, but we managed to flounder through it, until at length

we got on the somewhat firmer but still heavy plain. It was very clear,

however, that our horses would not go a day's journey over such ground.

It looked exactly as I have described it--an immense concavity, with

numerous small channels running down from every part, and making for the

creek as a centre of union; nor, could we anywhere see a termination to

it. Had the plain been of less extent, I might have doubted the

information of the natives; but, looking at the boundless hollow around

me, I did not feel any surprise that such a creek even as the one up

which we had journeyed, should rise in it, and could easily picture to

myself the rush of water there must be to the centre of the plain, when

the ground has been saturated with moisture.

The day being far advanced, whilst we were yet pushing on, without any

apparent termination to the heavy ground over which we were riding, I

turned westward at 2 p.m., finding that the attainment of the object I

had in view, in attempting to cross the plain, was a physical

impossibility. We reached the water, at which the blind native visited

us, a little after sunset, and were as glad as our poor animals could

have been, when night closed in upon us, and our labours.

On the 5th, we passed the old man's camp, in going down the creek,

instead of crossing the plains as before, and halted at the junction of a

creek we had passed, that came from the north, and along the banks of

which I proposed turning towards the ranges. On the morning of the 6th we

kept the general course of this tributary, which ran through an

undulating country of rocks and sand. Its channel was exceedingly

capacious, and its banks were high and perpendicular, but everything

about it, was sand or gravel. Its bed was perfectly level, and its

appearance at once destroyed the hope of finding water in it.

The ground over which we rode, was, as I have stated, a mixture of gravel

and rocks, and our horses yielded under us at almost every step as they

trod on the sharp pointed fragments. At eight miles we reached the outer

line of hills, as they had appeared to us in the distance, and entered a

pass between two of them, of about a quarter of a mile in width. At this

confined point there were the remains and ravages of terrific floods. The

waters had reached from one side of the pass to the other, and the dead

trunks of trees and heaps of rubbish, were piled up against every bush.

There was not a blade of vegetation to be seen either on the low ground

or on the ranges, which were from 3 to 400 feet in height, and were

nothing more than vast accumulations of sand and rocks. At a mile, we

arrived at the termination of the pass, and found ourselves at the

entrance of a barren, sandy valley, with ranges in front of us, similar

to those we had already passed. I thought it advisable, therefore, to

ascend a hill to my left, somewhat higher than any near it, to ascertain,

if possible, the character of the northern interior. The task of

clambering to the top of it however, was, in my then reduced state,

greater than I expected, and I had to wait a few minutes before I could

look about me after gaining the summit. I could see nothing, after all,

to cheer me in the view that presented itself. To the northward was the

valley in which the creek rises, bounded all round by barren, stony

hills, like that on which I stood; and the summits of other similar hills

shewed themselves above the nearer line. To the east the apparently

interminable plains on which we had been, still met the horizon, nor was

anything to be seen beyond them. Westward the outer line of hills

continued backed by others, in the outlines of which we recognised the

peaks and forms of the apparently lofty chain we first saw when we

discovered the creek. Thus, then, it appeared, that I had been entirely

deceived in the character of these hills, and that it had been the effect

of refraction in those burning regions, which had given to these moderate

hills their mountain-like appearance.

Satisfied that my horses had not the strength to cross such a country,

and that in it I had not the slightest chance of procuring the necessary

sustenance for them, I turned back to Cooper's Creek, and then deemed it

prudent to travel quietly on towards the place at which we first struck

it, and had subsequently left our surplus stores.

In riding amongst some rocky ground, we shot a new and beautiful little

pigeon, with a long crest. The habits of this bird were very singular,

for it never perched on the trees, but on the highest and most exposed

rocks, in what must have been an intense heat; its flight was short like

that of a quail, and it ran in the same manner through the grass when

feeding in the evening. We reached our destination on the evening of the

8th, and were astonished to see how much the waters had shrunk from their

previous level. Such an instance of the rapid diminution of so large a

pool, made me doubt whether I should find any water in Strzelecki's Creek

to enable me to regain the Depot.

As we descended from the flats to cross over to our old berth, we found

it occupied by a party of natives, who were disposed to be rather

troublesome, especially one old fellow, whose conduct annoyed me

exceedingly. However, I very soon got rid of them; and after strolling

for a short time within sight of us, they all went up the creek; but I

could not help thinking, from the impertinent pertinacity of these

fellows, that they had discovered my magazine, and taken all the things,

more especially as they had been digging where our fire had been, so

that, if I had buried the stores there as intended, they would have been

taken.

As soon as the natives were out of sight, Mr. Stuart and I went to the

rhagodia bush for our things. As we approached, the branches appeared

just as we had left them; but on getting near, we saw a bag lying

outside, and I therefore concluded that the natives had carried off

everything. Still, when we came up to the bush, nothing but the bag

appeared to have been touched, all the other things were just as we left

them, and, on examining the bag, nothing was missing. Concluding,

therefore, that the natives had really discovered my store, but had been

too honest to rob us, I returned to the creek in better humour with them;

but, a sudden thought occurring to Mr. Stuart, that as there was an oil

lamp in the bag, a native dog might have smelt and dragged it out of its

place, we returned to the bush, to see if there were any impressions of

naked feet round about it, but with the exception of our own, there were

no tracks save those of a native dog. I was consequently obliged to give

Mr. Stuart credit for his surmise, and felt somewhat mortified that the

favourable impression I had received as to the honesty of the natives had

thus been destroyed. They had gone up the creek on seeing that I was

displeased, and we saw nothing more of them during the afternoon; but on

the following morning they came to see us, and as they behaved well, I

gave them a powder canister, a little box, and some other trifles; for

after all there was only one old fellow who had been unruly, and he now

shewed as much impatience with his companions as he had done with us, and

I therefore set his manner down to the score of petulance.

At 10 a.m. on the 9th we prepared to move over to the branch creek, as I

really required rest and quiet, and knew very well that as long as I

remained where I was, we should be troubled by our sable friends, who,

being sixteen in number, would require being well looked after. Before we

finally left the neighbourhood, however, where our hopes had so often

been raised and depressed, I gave the name of Cooper's Creek to the fine

watercourse we had so anxiously traced, as a proof of my great respect

for Mr. Cooper, the Judge of South Australia. I am not conversant in the

language of praise, but thus much will I venture to say, that whether in

his public or private capacity, Mr. Cooper was equally entitled to this

record of my feelings towards him. I would gladly have laid this creek

down as a river, but as it had no current I did not feel myself justified

in so doing. Had it been nearer the located districts of South Australia,

its discovery would have been a matter of some importance. As it is we

know not what changes or speculations may lead the white man to its

banks. Purposes of utility were amongst the first objects I had in view

in my pursuit of geographical discovery; nor do I think that any country,

however barren, can be explored without the attainment of some good end.

Circumstances may yet arise to give a value to my recent labours, and my

name may be remembered by after generations in Australia, as the first

who tried to penetrate to its centre. If I failed in that great object, I

have one consolation in the retrospect of my past services. My path

amongst savage tribes has been a bloodless one, not but that I have often

been placed in situations of risk and danger, when I might have been

justified in shedding blood, but I trust I have ever made allowances for

human timidity, and respected the customs and prejudices of the rudest

people. I hope, indeed, that in this my last expedition, I have not done

discredit to the good opinion Sir C. Napier, an officer I knew not, was

pleased to entertain of me. Most assuredly in my intercourse with the

savage, I have endeavoured to elevate the character of the white man.

Justice and humanity have been my guides, but while I have the

consolation to know that no European will follow my track into the Desert

without experiencing kindness from its tenants, I have to regret that the

progress of civilized man into an uncivilized region, is almost

invariably attended with misfortune to its original inhabitants.

I struck Cooper's Creek in lat. 27 degrees 44 minutes, and in long. 140

degrees 22 minutes, and traced it upwards to lat. 27 degrees 56 minutes,

and long. 142 degrees 0 minutes. There can be no doubt but that it would

support a number of cattle upon its banks, but its agricultural

capabilities appear to me doubtful, for the region in which it lies is

subject evidently to variations of temperature and seasons that must, I

should say, be inimical to cereal productions; nevertheless I should

suppose its soil would yield sufficient to support any population that

might settle on it.

CHAPTER III.

CONTINUED DROUGHT--TERRIFIC EFFECT OF HOT WIND--THERMOMETER

BURSTS--DEATH OF POOR BAWLEY--FIND THE STOCKADE DESERTED--LEAVE FORT GREY

FOR THE DEPOT--DIFFERENCE OF SEASONS--MIGRATION OF BIRDS--HOT

WINDS--EMBARRASSING POSITION--MR. BROWNE STARTS FOR FLOOD'S CREEK--THREE

BULLOCKS SHOT--COMMENCEMENT OF THE RETREAT--ARRIVAL AT FLOOD'S

CREEK--STATE OF VEGETATION--EFFECTS OF SCURVY--ARRIVE AT ROCKY

GLEN--COMPARISON OF NATIVE TRIBES--HALT AT CARNAPAGA--ARRIVAL AT

CAWNDILLA--REMOVAL TO THE DARLING--LEAVE THE DARLING--STATE OF THE

RIVER--OPPRESSIVE HEAT--VISITED BY NADBUCK--ARRIVAL AT MOORUNDI.

By half past eleven of the 9th November we had again got quietly settled,

and I then found leisure to make such arrangements as might suggest

themselves for our further retreat. To insure the safety of the animals

as much as possible, I determined to leave all my spare provisions and

weightier stores behind, and during the afternoon we were engaged making

the loads as compact and as light as we could.

It was not, however, the fear of the water in Strzelecki's Creck having

dried up, that was at this moment the only cause of anxiety to me, for I

thought it more than probable that Mr. Browne had been obliged to retreat

from Fort Grey, in which case I should still have a journey before me to

the old Depot of 170 miles or more, under privations, to the horses at

least, of no ordinary character; and I had great doubts as to the

practicability of our final retreat upon the Darling. The drought had now

continued so long, and the heat been so severe, that I apprehended we

might be obliged to remain another summer in these fearful solitudes. The

weather was terrifically hot, and appeared to have set in unusually

early.

Under such circumstances, and with so many causes to render my mind

anxious, the reader will believe I did not sleep much. The men were as

restless as myself, so that we commenced our journey before the sun had

risen on the morning of the 10th of November, to give the horses time to

take their journey leisurely. Slowly we retraced our steps, nor did I

stop for a moment until we had got to within five miles of our

destination, at which distance we saw a single native running after us,

and taking it into my head that he might be a messenger from Mr. Browne,

I pulled up to wait for him, but curiosity alone had induced him to come

forward. When he got to within a hundred yards, he stopped and approached

no nearer. This little delay made it after sunset before we reached the

upper pool (not the one Mr. Browne and I had discovered), and were

relieved from present anxiety by finding a thick puddle still remaining

in it, so that I halted for the night. Slommy, Bawley, and the colt had

hard work to keep up with the other horses, and it really grieved me to

see them so reduced. My own horse was even now beginning to give way, but

I had carried a great load upon him.

As we approached the water, three ducks flew up and went off down the

creek southwards, so I was cheered all night by the hope that water still

remained at the lower pool, and that we should be in time to benefit by

it. On the 11th, therefore, early we pushed on, as I intended to stop and

breakfast at that place before I started for the Depot. We had scarcely

got there, however, when the wind, which had been blowing all the morning

hot from the N.E., increased to a heavy gale, and I shall never forget

its withering effect. I sought shelter behind a large gum-tree, but the

blasts of heat were so terrific, that I wondered the very grass did not

take fire. This really was nothing ideal: every thing, both animate and

inanimate, gave way before it; the horses stood with their backs to the

wind, and their noses to the ground, without the muscular strength to

raise their heads; the birds were mute, and the leaves of the trees,

under which we were sitting, fell like a snow shower around us. At noon I

took a thermometer, graduated to 127 degrees, out of my box, and observed

that the mercury was up to 125 degrees. Thinking that it had been unduly

influenced, I put it in the fork of a tree close to me, sheltered alike

from the wind and the sun. In this position I went to examine it about an

hour afterwards, when I found that the mercury had risen to the top of

the instrument, and that its further expansion had burst the bulb, a

circumstance that I believe no traveller has ever before had to record. I

cannot find language to convey to the reader's mind an idea of the

intense and oppressive nature of the heat that prevailed. We had reached

our destination however before the worst of the hot wind set in; but all

the water that now remained in the once broad and capacious pool to which

I have had such frequent occasion to call the attention of the reader,

was a shining patch of mud nearly in the centre. We were obliged to dig a

trench for the water to filter into during the night, and by this means

obtained a scanty supply for our horses and ourselves.

About sunset the wind shifted to the west, a cloud passed over us, and we

had heavy thunder; but a few drops of rain only fell. They partially

cooled the temperature, and the night was less oppressive than the day

had been. We had now a journey of 86 miles before us: to its results I

looked with great anxiety and doubt. I took every precaution to fortify

the horses, and again reduced the loads, keeping barely a supply of flour

for a day or two. Before dawn we were up, and drained the last drop of

water, if so it could be called, out of the little trench we had made,

and reserving a gallon for the first horse that should fall, divided the

residue among them. Just as the morning was breaking, we left the creek,

and travelled for 36 miles. I then halted until the moon should rise, and

was glad to see that the horses stood it well. At seven we resumed the

journey, and got on tolerably well until midnight, when poor Bawley, my

favourite horse, fell; but we got him up again, and abandoning his

saddle, proceeded onwards. At a mile, however, he again fell, when I

stopped, and the water revived him. I now hoped he would struggle on, but

in about an hour he again fell. I was exceedingly fond of this poor

animal, and intended to have purchased him at the sale of the remnants of

the expedition, as a present to my wife. We sat down and lit a fire by

him, but he seemed fairly worn out. I then determined to ride on to the

Depot, and if Mr. Browne should still be there, to send a dray with water

to the relief of the men. I told them, therefore, to come slowly on, and

with Mr. Stuart pushed for the camp. We reached the plain just as the sun

was descending, without having dismounted from our horses for more than

fifteen hours, and as we rode down the embankment into it, looked around

for the cattle, but none were to be seen. We looked towards the little

sandy mound on which the tents had stood, but no white object there met

our eye; we rode slowly up to the stockade, and found it silent and

deserted. I was quite sure that Mr. Browne had had urgent reasons for

retiring. I had indeed anticipated the measure: I hardly hoped to find

him at the Fort, and had given him instructions on the subject of his

removal, yet a sickening feeling came over me when I saw that he was

really gone; not on my own account, for, with the bitter feelings of

disappointment with which I was returning home, I could calmly have laid

my head on that desert, never to raise it again. The feeling was natural,

and had no mixture whatever of reproach towards my excellent companion.

We dismounted and led our horses down to water before I went to the tree

under which I had directed Mr. Browne to deposit a letter for me. A good

deal of water still remained in the channel, but nevertheless a large pit

had been dug in it as I had desired. I did not drink, nor did Mr. Stuart,

the surface of the water was quite green, and the water itself was of a

red colour, but I believe we were both thinking of any thing but

ourselves at that moment. As soon as we had unsaddled the horses, we went

to the tree and dug up the bottle into which, as agreed upon, Mr. Browne

had put a letter; informing me that he had been most reluctantly obliged

to retreat; the water at the Depot having turned putrid, and seriously

disagreed with the men; he said that he should fall back on the old Depot

along the same line on which we had advanced, and expressed his fears

that the water in Strzelecki's Creek would have dried, on the permanence

of which he knew our safety depended. Under present circumstances the

fate of poor Bawley, if not of more of our horses, was sealed. Mr. Stuart

and I sat down by the stockade, and as night closed in lit a fire to

guide Morgan and Mack on their approach to the plain. They came up about

2 p.m. having left Bawley on a little stony plain, and the Colt on the

sand ridges nearer to us, and in the confusion and darkness had left all

the provisions behind; it therefore became necessary to send for some, as

we had not had anything for many hours. The horses Morgan and Mack had

ridden were too knocked up for further work, but I sent the latter on my

own horse with a leather bottle that had been left behind by the party,

full of water for poor Bawley, if he should still find him alive. Mack

returned late in the afternoon, having passed the Colt on his way to the

Depot, towards which he dragged himself with difficulty, but Bawley was

beyond recovery; he gave the poor animal the water, however, for he was a

humane man, and then left him to die.

We had remained during the day under a scorching heat, but could hardly

venture to drink the water of the creek without first purifying it by

boiling, and as we had no vessel until Mack should come up we had to wait

patiently for his arrival at 7 p.m. About 9 we had a damper baked, and

broke our fast for the first time for more than two days.

While sitting under a tree in the forenoon Mr. Stuart had observed a crow

pitch in the little garden we had made, but which never benefited us,

since the sun burnt up every plant the moment it appeared above the

ground. This bird scratched for a short time in one of the soft beds, and

then flew away with something in his bill. On going to the spot Mr.

Stuart scraped up a piece of bacon and some suet, which the dogs of

course had buried. These choice morsels were washed and cooked, and Mr.

Stuart brought me a small piece of bacon, certainly not larger than a

dollar, which he assured me had been cut out of the centre and was

perfectly clean. I had not tasted the bacon since February, nor did I now

feel any desire to do so, but I ate it because I thought I really wanted

it in the weak state in which I was.

Perhaps a physician would laugh at me for ascribing the pains I felt the

next morning to so trifling a cause, but I was attacked with pains at the

bottom of my heels and in my back. Although lying down I felt as if I was

standing balanced on stones; these pains increased during the day,

insomuch that I anticipated some more violent attack, and determined on

getting to the old Depot as soon as possible; but as the horses had not

had sufficient rest, I put off my journey to 5 p.m. on the following day,

when I left Fort Grey with Mr. Stuart, directing Mack and Morgan to

follow at the same hour on the following day, and promising that I would

send a dray with water to meet them. I rode all that night until 3 p.m.

of the 17th, when we reached the tents, which Mr. Browne had pitched

about two miles below the spot we had formerly occupied. If I except two

or three occasions on which I was obliged to dismount to rest my back for

a few minutes we rode without stopping, and might truly be said to have

been twenty hours on horseback.

Sincere I believe was the joy of Mr. Browne, and indeed of all hands, at

seeing us return, for they had taken it for granted that our retreat

would have been cut off. I too was gratified to find that Mr. Brown was

better, and to learn that everything had gone on well. Davenport had

recently been taken ill, but the other men had recovered on their removal

from the cause of their malady.

When I dismounted I had nearly fallen forward. Thinking that one of the

kangaroo dogs in his greeting had pushed me between the legs, I turned

round to give him a slap, but no dog was there, and I soon found out that

what I had felt was nothing more than strong muscular action brought on

by hard riding.

As I had promised I sent Jones with a dray load of water to meet Morgan

and Mack, who came up on the 19th with the rest of the horses.

Mr. Browne informed me that the natives had frequently visited the camp

during my absence. He had given them to understand that we were going

over the hills again, on which they told him that if he did not make

haste all the water would be gone. It now behoved us therefore to effect

our retreat upon the Darling with all expedition. Our situation was very

critical, for the effects of the drought were more visible now than

before the July rain,--no more indeed had since fallen, and the water in

the Depot creek was so much reduced that we had good reason to fear that

none remained anywhere else. On the 18th I sent Flood to a small creek,

between us and the Pine forest, but he returned on the following day with

information that it had long been dry. Thus then were my fears verified,

and our retreat to the Darling apparently cut off. About this time too

the very elements, against which we had so long been contending, seemed

to unite their energies to render our stay in that dreadful region still

more intolerable. The heat was greater than that of the previous summer;

the thermometer ranging between 110 degrees and 123 degrees every day;

the wind blowing heavily from N.E. to E.S.E. filled the air with

impalpable red dust, giving the sun the most foreboding and lurid

appearance as we looked upon him. The ground was so heated that our

matches falling on it, ignited; and, having occasion to make a night

signal, I found the whole of our rockets had been rendered useless, as on

being lit they exploded at once without rising from the ground.

I had occasion--in the first volume of this work--to remark that I

should at a future period have to make some observations on the state of

the vegetation at this particular place; there being about a month or six

weeks difference between the periods of the year when we first arrived

at, and subsequently returned to it. When we first arrived on the 27th of

January, 1845, the cereal grasses had ripened their seed, and the larger

shrubs were fast maturing their fruit; the trees were full of birds, and

the plains were covered with pigeons--having nests under every bush. At

the close of November of the same year--that is to say six weeks

earlier--not an herb had sprung from the ground, not a bud had swelled,

and, where the season before the feathered tribes had swarmed in hundreds

on the creek, scarcely a bird was now to be seen. Our cattle wandered

about in search for food, and the silence of the grave reigned around us

day and night.

Was it instinct that warned the feathered races to shun a region in which

the ordinary course of nature had been arrested, and over which the wrath

of the Omnipotent appeared to hang? Or was it that a more genial season

in the country to which they migrate, rendered their desertion of it at

the usual period unnecessary? Most sincerely do I hope that the latter

was the case, and that a successful destiny will await the bold and

ardent traveller [Note 10. Dr. Leichhardt had started to cross the

Continent some time before.] who is now crossing those regions.

On the 20th I sent Flood down the creek to ascertain if water remained in

it or the farther holes mentioned by the natives, thinking that in such a

case we might work our way to the eastward; but on the 23rd he returned

without having seen a drop of water from the moment he left us. The deep

and narrow channel I had so frequently visited, and which I had hoped

might still contain water, had long been dry, and thus was our retreat

cut off in that quarter also. There was apparently no hope for us--its

last spark had been extinguished by this last disappointment; but the

idea of a detention in that horrid desert was worse than death itself.

On the morning of the 22nd the sky was cloudy and the sun obscure, and

there was every appearance of rain. The wind was somewhat to the south of

west, the clouds came up from the north, and at ten a few drops fell; but

before noon the sky was clear, and a strong and hot wind was blowing from

the west: the dust was flying in clouds around us, and the flies were

insupportable.

At this time Mr. Stuart was taken ill with pains similar to my own, and

Davenport had an attack of dysentery.

On the 23rd it blew a fierce gale and a hot wind from west by north,

which rendered us still more uncomfortable: nothing indeed could be done

without risk in such a temperature, and such a climate. The fearful

position in which we were placed, caused me great uneasiness; the men

began to sicken, and I felt assured that if we remained much longer, the

most serious consequences might be apprehended.

On the 24th, Mr. Browne went with Flood to examine a stony creek about 16

miles to the south, and on our way homewards. We had little hope that he

would find any water in it, but if he did, a plan had suggested itself,

by which we trusted to effect our escape. It being impossible to stand

the outer heat, the men were obliged to take whatever things wanted

repair, to our underground room, and I was happy to learn from Mr.

Stuart, who I sent up to superintend them, that the natives had not in

the least disturbed Mr. Poole's grave.

On the 25th Mr. Browne returned, and returned unsuccessful: he could find

no water any where, and told me it was fearful to ride down the creeks

and to witness their present state.

We were now aware that there could be no water nearer to us than 118

miles, i. e. at Flood's Creek, and even there it was doubtful if water

any longer remained. To have moved the party on the chance of finding it

would have been madness: the weather was so foreboding, the heat so

excessive, and the horses so weak, that I did not dare to trust them on

such a journey, or to risk the life of any man in such an undertaking. I

was myself laid up, a helpless being, for I had gradually sunk under the

attack of scurvy which had so long hung upon me. The day after I arrived

in camp I was unable to walk: in a day or two more, my muscles became

rigid, my limbs contracted, and I was unable to stir; gradually also my

skin blackened, the least movement put me to torture, and I was reduced

to a state of perfect prostration. Thus stricken down, when my example

and energies were so much required for the welfare and safety of others,

I found the value of Mr. Browne's services and counsel. He had already

volunteered to go to Flood's Creek to ascertain if water was still to be

procured in it, but I had not felt justified in availing myself of his

offer. My mind, however, dwelling on the critical posture of our affairs,

and knowing and feeling as I did the value of time, and that the burning

sun would lick up any shallow pool that might be left exposed, and that

three or four days might determine our captivity or our release, I sent

for Mr. Browne, to consult with him as to the best course to be adopted

in the trying situation in which we were placed, and a plan at length

occurred by which I hoped he might venture on the journey to Flood's

Creek without risk. This plan was to shoot one of the bullocks, and to

fill his hide with water. We determined on sending this in a dray, a day

in advance, to enable the bullock driver to get as far as possible on the

road, we then arranged that Mr. Browne should take the light cart, with

36 gallons of water, and one horse only; that on reaching the dray, he

should give his horse as much water as he would drink from the skin,

leaving that in the cart untouched until he should arrive at the

termination of his second day's journey, when I proposed he should give

his horse half the water, and leaving the rest until the period of his

return, ride the remainder of the distance he had to go. I saw little

risk in this plan, and we accordingly acted upon it immediately: the hide

was prepared, and answered well, since it easily contained 150 gallons of

water. Jones proceeded on the morning of the 27th, and on the 28th Mr.

Browne left me on this anxious and to us important journey, accompanied

by Flood. We calculated on his return on the eighth day, and the reader

will judge how anxiously those days passed. On the day Mr. Browne left

me, Jones returned, after having deposited the skin at the distance of 32

miles.

On the eighth day from his departure, every eye but my own was turned to

the point at which they had seen him disappear. About 3 p.m., one of the

men came to inform me that Mr. Browne was crossing the creek, the camp

being on its left bank, and in a few minutes afterwards he entered my

tent. "Well, Browne," said I, "what news? Is it to be good or bad?"

"There is still water in the creek," said he, "but that is all I can say.

What there is is as black as ink, and we must make haste, for in a week

it will be gone." Here then the door was still open,--a way to escape

still practicable, and thankful we both felt to that Power which had

directed our steps back again ere it was finally closed upon us; but even

now we had no time to lose: to have taken the cattle without any prospect

of relief until they should arrive at Flood's Creek, would have been to

sacrifice almost the whole of them, and to reduce the expedition to a

condition such as I did not desire. The necessary steps to be taken, in

the event of Mr. Browne's bringing back good tidings, had engaged my

attention during his absence, and with his assistance, that on which I

had determined was immediately put into execution. I directed three more

bullocks to be shot, and their skins prepared; and calculated that by

abandoning the boat and our heavier stores, we might carry a supply of

water on the drays, sufficient for the use of the remaining animals on

the way. Three bullocks were accordingly killed, and the skins stripped

over them from the neck downwards, so that the opening might be as small

as possible.

The boat was launched upon the creek, which I had vainly hoped would have

ploughed the waters of a central sea. We abandoned our bacon and heavier

stores, the drays were put into order, their wheels wedged up, their

axles greased, and on the 6th of December, at 5 p.m., we commenced our

retreat, having a distance of 270 miles to travel to the Darling, and

under circumstances which made it extremely uncertain how we should

terminate the journey, since we did not expect to find any water between

Flood's Creek and the Rocky Glen, or between the Rocky Glen and the

Darling itself. The three or four days preceding our departure had been

quite overpowering, neither did there seem to be a likelihood of any

abatement of the heat when we left the Depot. At 5 a.m. of the morning of

the 7th, having travelled all night, I halted to rest the men and

animals. We had then the mortification to find one of the skins was

defective, and let out the water at an hundred different pores. I

directed the water that remained in the skin to be given to the stock

rather than that it should be lost; but both horses and bullocks refused

it. During the first part of the night it was very oppressive; but about

an hour after midnight the wind shifted to the south, and it became

cooler. We resumed our journey at 7, and did not again halt until half

past 12 p.m. of the 8th, having then gained the Muddy Lagoon, at which

the reader will recollect we stopped for a short time after breaking

through the Pine forest about the same period the year before; but as

there was nothing for the animals to eat, I took them across the creek

and put them upon an acre or two of green feed along its banks. I

observed that the further we advanced southwards, the more forward did

vegetation appear; Mr. Browne made the same remark to me on his return

from Flood's Creek, where he found the grasses ripe, whereas at the Depot

Creek the ground was still perfectly bare.

About 3 a.m. we had a good deal of thunder and lightning, and at 7 the

wind shifted a point or two to the eastward of south. Notwithstanding the

quarter from which the wind blew, heavy clouds came up from the west, and

about 11 we had a misty rain with heavy thunder and lightning. The rain

was too slight to leave any puddles, but it moistened the dry grass,

which the animals greedily devoured.

On leaving the creek we kept for about eight miles on our old track, but

at that distance turned due south for two hills, the position of which

Mr. Browne had ascertained on his recent journey, and by taking this

judicious course avoided the Pine ridges altogether. We were, however,

obliged to halt, as the moon set, in the midst of an open brush, but

started again at day-break on the morning of the 9th.

Before we left the creek, near the Muddy Lagoon, all the horses and more

than one half of the bullocks had drank plentifully of the water in the

hides, in consequence of which they got on tolerably well. On resuming

our journey we soon cleared the remainder of the scrub, and got into a

more open sandy country, but the travelling on it was good; and at 20

minutes to two we halted within a mile of the hills towards which we had

been moving, then about 26 miles from Flood's Creek. Being in great pain

I left Mr. Browne at half-past three p.m., and reached our destination at

midnight. Two hours afterwards Mr. Browne came up with the rest of the

party. So we completed our first stage without the loss of a single

animal; but had it not been for the slight rain that fell on the morning

of the 8th, and the subsequent change of temperature, none of our

bullocks could have survived the journey thus far.

As it had occupied three nights and two days, it became necessary to give

both men and animals a day of rest. I could not however be so indulgent

to Mr. Browne or to Flood. The next place at which we hoped to find

water, was at the Rocky Gully at the foot of the ranges, distant 49

miles, if water failed us there, neither had Mr. Browne or Flood any

reasonable expectation that we should procure any until we gained the

Darling itself, then distant 150 miles. Mr. Browne was himself suffering

severely from attacks of scurvy, but he continued with unwearied zeal to

supply my place. On the 11th, at one p.m., he left me for the hills, but

before he started we arranged that he should return and meet me half way

whether he succeeded in finding water or not, and in order to ensure this

I proposed leaving the Creek on the 13th.

As Mr. Browne had informed me, we found the vegetation much more forward

at this place than we had hitherto seen it, still many of the grasses

were invisible, not having yet sprung up, but there was a solitary stool

of wheat that had been accidentally dropped by us and had taken root,

which had 13 fine heads upon it quite ripe. These Mr. Browne gathered,

and, agreeably to my wishes, scattered the seed about in places where he

thought it would be most likely to grow. There was also a single stool of

oats but it was not so fine as the wheat.

On the 12th, at 2 p.m., Flood suddenly returned, bringing information

that Mr. Browne had unexpectedly found water in the lower part of a

little rocky creek in our way, distant 18 miles, and that he was gone on

to the Rocky Gully. On receiving this intelligence I ordered the bullocks

to be yoked up, and we started for the creek at which we had left the

cart on our outward journey, at 7 p.m. It was blowing heavily at the time

from the S.W. and large clouds passed over us, but the sky cleared as the

wind fell at midnight. We reached our destination at 3 a.m. of the 13th.

Here I remained until half-past six when we again started and gained the

Horse-cart Creek at half-past twelve. Here, as at Flood's Creek, we found

a large plant of mustard and some barley in ear and ripe, where few of

the native grasses had more than made their appearance out of the ground.

Stopping to rest the animals for half an hour, I went myself to the

little branch creek, on which the reader will recollect our cattle

depended when we were last in this neighbourhood, and where I had

arranged to meet Mr. Browne, who arrived there about half an hour before

me. He had again been successful in finding a large supply of water in

the Rocky Gully, and thought that rain must have fallen on the hills.

At 4 the teams again started, but I was too unwell to accompany them

immediately. I had in truth lost the use of my limbs, and from the time

of our leaving the Depot had been lifted in and out of the cart; constant

jolting therefore had greatly fatigued me, and I found it necessary to

stop here for a short time after the departure of the drays. At half-past

six however, we followed and overtook the party about five miles from the

gully, where we halted at 3 A M. of the 14th.

Mr. Browne had found a large party of natives at the water, who had been

very kind to him, and many of them still remained when we came up. He had

observed some of them eating a small acid berry, and had procured a

quantity for me in the hope that they would do me good, and while we

remained at this place he good-naturedly went into the hills and gathered

me a large tureen full, and to the benefit I derived from these berries I

attribute my more speedy recovery from the malady under which I was

suffering. We were now 116 miles from the Darling, and although there was

no longer any doubt of our eventually reaching it, the condition in which

we should do so, depended on our finding water in the Coonbaralba pass,

from which we were distant 49 miles. In the evening I sent Flood on ahead

to look for water, with orders to return if he succeeded in his search.

In consequence of the kindness of the natives to Mr. Browne I made them

some presents and gave them a sheep, which they appeared to relish

greatly. They were good-looking blacks and in good condition, speaking

the language of the Darling natives.

It was late on the 15th before we ascended the ranges; but, as I had only

a limited distance to go it was not of much consequence, more especially

as I purposed halting at the little spring, in the upper part of the

Rocky Gully, at which Morgan and I stopped on a former occasion, when Mr.

Browne and Flood were looking for a place by which we could descend from

the hills to the plains of the desert interior. Mr. Browne took the short

cut up the gully with the sheep; but when I reached the glen he had not

arrived, and as he did not make his appearance for some time I became

anxious, and sent after him, but he had only been delayed by the

difficulty of the road, along which he described the scenery as very bold

and picturesque.

We had not up to this time experienced the same degree of heat that

prevailed at the Depot. The temperature since the thunder on the 8th had

been comparatively mild, and on ascending the hills we felt a sensible

difference. I attributed it, however, to our elevated position, for we

had on our way up the country experienced the nature of the climate of

the Darling. We could not decidedly ascertain the fact from the natives,

but as they were at this place in considerable numbers, both Mr. Browne

and myself concluded that the river had not been flooded this year;

neither had the season been the same as that of the former year, for it

will be remembered that at the period the party crossed the ranges, a

great deal of rain had fallen, in so much that the wheels of the drays

sunk deep into the ground; but now they hardly left an impression, as

they moved over it; and although more rain might have fallen on the hills

than in the depressed region beyond them, it was clear that none had

fallen for a considerable length of time in this neighbourhood.

Mr. Browne saw five or six rock Wallabies as he was coming up the glen,

and said they were beautiful little animals. He remarked that they

bounded up the bold cliffs near him with astonishing strength and

activity; in some places there were basaltic columns, resting on granite,

200 and 300 feet high.

Flood returned at 4 a.m. having found water, though not of the best

description, in the pass. His horse had, however, drank plentifully of

it, so that I determined on pushing from that point to Cawndilla, hoping

by good management to secure the cattle reaching it in safety.

Considering the distance we had to go we started late, but the bullocks

had strayed down the creek, and it took some time to drive them over such

rugged ground.

I preceded the party in the cart, leaving Mr. Browne in charge of the

drays, and crossing the ranges descended into the pass two hours after

sunset. We passed a brackish pool of water, and stopped at a small well,

at which there were two native women. The party came up about two hours

after midnight, the men and animals being greatly fatigued, so that it

was absolutely necessary to remain stationary for a day. Our retreat had

been a most harassing one, but it admitted of no hesitation. Though we

had thus far, under the blessing of Providence, brought every thing in

safety, and had now only one more effort to make, Cawndilla was still

distant 69 miles, between which and our position there was not a drop of

water.

One of the women we found here, came and slept at our fire, and managed

to roll herself up in Mr. Browne's blanket, who, waking from cold, found

that his fair companion had uncovered him, and appropriated the blanket

to her own use. The natives suffer exceedingly from cold, and are

perfectly paralysed by it, for they are not provided with any covering,

neither are their huts of a solidity or construction such as to protect

them from its effects. About noon a large tribe joined us from the S.W.

and we had a fine opportunity to form a judgment of them, when contrasted

with the natives of the Desert from which we had come. Robust, active,

and full of life, these hill natives were every way superior to the

miserable half-starved beings we had left behind, if I except the natives

of Cooper's Creek. During the day they kept falling in upon us, and in

the afternoon mustered more than one hundred strong, in men, women, and

children. As they were very quiet and unobtrusive I gave them a couple of

sheep, with which they were highly delighted, and in return, they

overwhelmed our camp at night with their women.

I mentioned in a former part of this work, that Mr. Browne and I had

succeeded in capturing a Dipus, when journeying to the N.W. We had

subsequently taken another, and had kept them both for some time, but one

died, and the other springing out of its box was killed by the dogs. From

the habits of this animal I did not expect to succeed in taking it home,

but I had every hope that some Jerboas, of which we had five, would

outlive the journey, for they thrived well on the food we gave them. I

was, however, quite provoked at this place to find that two of them had

died from the carelessness of the men throwing the tarpauline over the

box, and so smothering them. The survivors were all but dead when looked

at, and I feared we should lose them also.

As the morning of the 19th dawned, and distant objects became visible,

the plains of the Darling gradually spread out before us. We commenced

our journey to Cawndilla at half-past 7, and travelled down the creek

until 2 p.m., when we halted for two hours during the heat of the day at

Carnapaga. At 4 we resumed our journey, and again stopped for an hour on

the little sand hill at the lower part of the creek, to enable the men to

take some refreshment. At quarter-past 8 we turned from the creek and

travelled all night by the light of a lamp, and at daylight were 18 miles

from Cawndilla. We had kept upon our former tracks, on which the cattle

had moved rapidly along, but they now began to flag. Mr. Browne was in

front of the party with Mr. Stuart, but he suddenly returned, and coming

up to my cart gave me a letter he had found nailed up to a tree by Mr.

Piesse. This letter was to inform me of his arrival on the banks of the

Williorara on the 6th of the month, of his having been twice on the road

in the hope of seeing us, and sent natives to procure intelligence of us,

who returned in so exhausted a state, that he had given up all

expectation of our being able to cross the hills. He stated that we

should find a barrel of water a little further on, together with a letter

from head quarters, but had retained all other letters until he should

see me; nevertheless, he had the gratification to tell me that he had

seen Mrs. Sturt the day before he left Adelaide, and that she was well.

About a mile further on, we found the barrel of water, and relieved our

suffering horses, and thus benefited by the prudent exertions of Mr.

Piesse. Nothing, indeed, appeared to have escaped the anxious solicitude

of that zealous officer to relieve our wants.

I reached Cawndilla at 9 a.m. and stopped on the banks of the Williorara

at the dregs of a water-hole, about six inches deep, it being all that

remained in the creek, but I was too much fatigued to push on to the

Darling, a further distance of seven miles, where Mr. Piesse then was.

The drays came up a little after noon; the cattle almost frantic from the

want of water. It was with difficulty the men unyoked them, and the

moment they were loose they plunged headlong into the creek and drank

greedily of the putrid water that remained.

Amongst the letters I now received was one from the Colonial Secretary,

informing me, that supplies had been forwarded to the point I had

specified, according to the request contained in my letter of July; that

my further suggestions had been acted upon, and that the Governor had

availed himself of Mr. Piesse's services again, to send him in charge of

the party: thus satisfied that he was on the Darling, I sent Mr. Browne

and Mr. Stuart in advance, to apprise him of our approach.

On their arrival at his camp Mr. Piesse lost no time in repairing to me,

and I shall not readily forget the unaffected joy he evinced at seeing me

again. He had maintained a friendly intercourse with the natives, and had

acquitted himself in a manner, as creditable to himself, as it had been

beneficial to me.

Mr. Piesse was the bearer of numerous letters from my family and friends,

and I was in some measure repaid for the past, by the good intelligence

they conveyed: that my wife and children were well, and the colony was in

the most flourishing condition,--since, during my absence, that

stupendous mine had been discovered, which has yielded such profit to the

owners--and the pastoral pursuits of the colonists were in an equally

flourishing condition. Mr. Browne, too, received equally glad tidings

from his brother, who informed him of his intention to meet the party on

its way homewards.

On the 21st I moved over to the Darling; and found a number of natives at

the camp, and amongst them the old Boocolo of Williorara, who was highly

delighted at our return.

Mr. Piesse had constructed a large and comfortable hut of boughs--which

was much cooler than canvass. In this we made ourselves comfortable, and

I hoped that the numerous and more generous supplies of eatables and

drinkables than those to which we had been accustomed would conduce to

our early restoration to health. I could not but fancy that the berries

Mr. Browne had procured for me, and of which I had taken many, were

beginning to work beneficially--although I was still unable to move. As

I proposed remaining stationary until after Christmas Day, I deemed it

advisable to despatch messengers with letters for the Governor, advising

him of my safety, and to relieve the anxiety of my family and friends.

Mr. Browne accordingly made an agreement with two natives, to take the

letter-bag to the Anabranch of the Darling, and send it on to Lake

Victoria by other natives, who were to be rewarded for their trouble. For

this service our messengers were to receive two blankets and two

tomahawks, and the bag being closed they started off with it. I had

proposed to Mr. Browne to be himself the bearer of it, but he would not

leave me, even now. In order, therefore, to encourage the messengers, I

gave them in advance the tomahawks they were to have received on their

return. Our tent was generally full of natives; some of them very fine

young men, especially the two sons of the Boocolo. Topar made his

appearance two or three days after our arrival, but Toonda was absent on

the Murray: the former, however, having been detected in attempting a

theft, I had him turned out of the tent and banished the camp. The old

Boocolo came daily to see us, and as invariably laid down on the lower

part of my mattrass.

On the 23rd I sent Mr. Stuart to verify his former bearings on Scrope's

Range, and Mr. Browne kindly superintended the chaining of the distance

between a tree I had marked on the banks of the Darling and Sir Thomas

Mitchell's last camp. This tree was about a quarter of a mile below the

junction of the Williorara, and had cut on it, (G. A. E., Dec. 24, 1843,)

the distance between the two points was three miles and 20 chains.

The 25th being Christmas Day, I issued a double allowance to the men, and

ordered that preparations should be made for pushing down the river on

the following morning. About 2 p.m. we were surprised at the return of

our two messengers, who insisted that they had taken the letter-bag to

the point agreed upon, although it was an evident impossibility that they

could have done so. I therefore evinced my displeasure and refused to

give them the blankets--for which, nevertheless, they greatly importuned

me. Mr. Browne, however, explained to the Boocolo why I refused, and

charged the natives with having secreted it somewhere or other. On this

there was a long consultation with the natives, which terminated in the

Boocolo's two sons separating from the others, and talking together for a

long time in a corner of my hut; they then came forward and said, that my

decision was perfectly just, for that the men had not been to the place

agreed upon, but had left the bag of letters with a tribe on the Darling,

and therefore, that they had been fully rewarded by the present of the

tomahawks. This decided opinion settled the dispute at once, and the

parties quietly acquiesced.

I had, as stated, been obliged to turn Topar out of my tent, and expel

him the camp for theft, but at the same time Mr. Browne explained to the

natives why I did so, and told them that I should in like manner expel

any other who so transgressed, and they appeared fully to concur in the

justice of my conduct. There is no doubt indeed but that they punish each

other for similar offences, although perhaps the moral turpitude of the

action is not understood by them.

The Darling at this time had ceased to flow, and formed a chain of ponds.

The Williorara was quite dry from one end to the other, as were the

lagoons and creeks in the neighbourhood. The natives having cleared the

river of the fish that had been brought down by the floods, now subsisted

for the most part on herbs and roots of various kinds, and on the

caterpillar of the gum-tree moth, which they procured out of the ground

with their switches, having a hook at the end. I do not think they could

procure animal food in the then state of the country, there being no

ducks or kangaroos in the neighbourhood, in any great quantity at all

events.

I thus early began to feel the benefit of a change of diet in the

diminished rigidity of my limbs, and therefore entertained great hopes

that I should yet be able to ride into Adelaide. The men too generally

began to recover from their fatigues, but both Mr. Browne and Mr. Stuart

continued to complain of shooting pains in their limbs. The party and the

animals however being sufficiently recruited to enable us to resume our

progress homewards, we broke up our camp at the junction of the

Williorara on the 26th of the month as I had proposed, under more

favourable circumstances than we could have expected, the weather being

beautifully fine and the temperature pleasant. When I was carried out of

my tent to the cart, I was surprised to see the verdure of that very

ground against the barrenness of which I had had to declaim the preceding

year; I mean the flats of the Williorara, now covered with grass, and

looking the very reverse of what they had done before; so hazardous is it

to give an opinion of such a country from a partial glimpse of it. The

incipient vegetation must have been brought forth by flood or heavy

rains.

We passed two tribes of natives, with whom we staid for a short time as

the old Boocolo was with us. Amongst these natives we did not notice the

same disproportion in the sexes as in the interior, but not only amongst

these tribes but with those of Williorara and Cawndilla, we observed that

many had lost an eye by inflammation from the attacks of flies. I was

really surprised that any of them could see, for most assuredly it is

impossible to conceive anything more tormenting than those brutes are in

every part of the interior.

On the 27th we passed two of our old encampments, and halted after a

journey of 16 miles in the close vicinity of a tribe of natives, about

fifty in number, the majority of whom were boys as mischievous as

monkeys, and as great thieves too, but we reduced them to some kind of

order by a little patience. The Darling had less water than in the

previous year before the flood, but its flats were covered with grass, of

which hundreds of tons might have been cut, so that our cattle speedily

began to improve in condition.

About this time the weather was exceedingly oppressive, and heavy

thunder-clouds hung about, but no rain fell.

Our journey on the 28th was comparatively short. We passed the location

of another tribe during the day, and recovered our letter-bag, which had

been left by our messengers with a native belonging to it. Here the old

Boocolo left us and returned to Williorara.

The last days of 1845 and the few first of 1846 were exceedingly

oppressive, and the heat was almost as great as in the interior itself.

On the 5th of January we crossed over from the Darling to its ancient

channel, and on the 6th Mr. Browne left for Adelaide. On the 8th I

reached Lake Victoria, where I learnt that our old friend Nadbuck had

been speared by a native, whose jealousy he had excited, but that his

wound was not mortal. He was somewhere on the Rufus, which I did not

approach, but made a signal fire in the hope that he would have seen it,

and, had they not been spoiled, I should have thrown up a rocket at

night. However Nadbuck heard of our return, and made a successful effort

to get to us, and tears chased each other down the old man's cheeks when

he saw us again. Assuredly these poor people of the desert have the most

kindly feelings; for not only was his reception of us such as I have

described, but the natives one and all exhibited the utmost joy at our

safety, and cheered us on every part of the river.

It blew very heavily on the night of the 10th, but moderated towards the

morning, and the day turned out cooler than usual. The lagoons of the

Murray were full of fish and wild fowl, and my distribution of all the

hooks and lines I had brought back enabled my sable friends to capture an

abundance of the former without going into the water, and they very soon

appreciated the value of such instruments.

On the 13th I left Mr. Piesse in charge of the party, and pushed on to

Moorundi, and arrived at the settlement, into which I was escorted by the

natives raising loud shouts, on the 15th. Here my kind friends made me as

comfortable as they could. Mr. Eyre had gone to England on leave of

absence, and Mr. Nation was filling his appointment as Resident.

On the 17th I mounted my horse for the first time since I had been taken

ill in November, and had scarcely left Moorundi when I met my good

friends Mr. Charles Campbell and Mr. A. Hardy in a carriage to convey me

to Adelaide. I reached my home at midnight on the 19th of January, and,

on crossing its threshold, raised my wife from the floor on which she had

fallen, and heard the carriage of my considerate friends roll rapidly

away.

CHAPTER IV.

REMARKS ON THE SEASON--DRY STATE OF THE ATMOSPHERE--THERMOMETRICAL

OBSERVATIONS--WINDS IN THE INTERIOR--DIRECTION OF THE RANGES--GEOLOGICAL

OBSERVATIONS--NON-EXISTENCE OF ANY CENTRAL CHAIN--PROBABLE COURSE OF THE

STONY DESERT--WHETHER CONNECTED WITH LAKE TORRENS--OPINIONS OF CAPTAIN

FLINDERS--NO INFORMATION DERIVED FROM THE NATIVES--THE NATIVES--THEIR

PERSONAL APPEARANCE--DISPROPORTION BETWEEN THE SEXES--THE WOMEN--CUSTOMS

OF THE NATIVES--THEIR HABITATIONS--FOOD--LANGUAGE--CONCLUSION.

Having thus brought my narrative to a conclusion I shall trespass but

little more on the patience of the reader. It appears to me that a few

observations are necessary to clear some parts, and to make up for

omissions in the body of my work. I have written it indeed under

considerable disadvantage; for although I have in a great measure

recovered from the loss of sight consequent on my former services, I

cannot glance my eye so rapidly as I once did over such a voluminous

document as this journal; and I feel that I owe it to the public, as well

as to myself, to make this apology for its imperfections.

There were two great difficulties against which, during the progress of

the expedition, I had to contend. The one was, the want of water; the

other, the nature of the country. That it was altogether impracticable

for wheeled carriages of any kind, may readily be conceived from my

description; and in the state in which I found it, horses were evidently

unequal to the task. I cannot help thinking that camels might have done

better; not only for their indurance, but because they carry more than a

horse. I should, undoubtedly, have been led to try those animals if I

could have procured them; but that was impossible. Certain however it is,

that I went into the interior to meet with trials that scarcely camels

could have borne up against; for I think there can be no doubt, from the

facts I have detailed, that the season, during which this expedition was

undertaken, was one of unusual dryness; but although the arid state of

the country contributed so much to prevent its movements, I question

whether, under opposite circumstances, it would have been possible to

have pushed so far as the party succeeded in doing. Certainly, if the

ground had been kept in a state of constant saturation, travelling would

have been out of the question; for the rain of July abundantly proved how

impracticable any attempt to penetrate it under such circumstances would

have been.

It is difficult to say what kind of seasons prevail in Central Australia.

That low region does not, as far as I can judge, appear to be influenced

by tropical rains, but rather to be subject to sudden falls. That the

continent of Australia was at one time more humid than it now is, appears

to be an admitted fact; the marks of floods, and the violence of torrents

(none of which have been witnessed), are mentioned by every explorer as

traceable over every part of the continent; but no instance of any

general inundation is on record: on the contrary the seasons appear to be

getting drier and drier every year, and the slowness with which any body

exposed to the air decomposes, would argue the extreme absence of

moisture in the atmosphere. It will be remembered that one of my bullocks

died in the Pine Forest when I was passing through it in December, 1844.

In July, 1845, when Mr. Piesse was on his route home from the Depot in

charge of the home returning party, he passed by the spot where this

animal had fallen; and, in elucidation of what I have stated, I will here

give the extract of a letter I subsequently received from him from India.

Speaking of the humidity of the climate of Bengal, he says: "It appears

to me that heat alone is rather a preservative from decomposition; of

which I recollect an instance, in the bullock that died in the march

through the Pine scrub on the 1st of January, 1845. When I passed by the

spot in the following July, the carcase was dried up like a mummy, and

was in such a perfect state of preservation as to be easily recognised."

No stronger proof, I apprehend, could have been adduced of the dryness of

the atmosphere in that part of the interior, or more corroborative of the

intensity of heat there during the interval referred to; but the singular

and unusual effects it had on ourselves, and on every thing around was

equally corroborative of the fact. The atmosphere on some occasions was

so rarified, that we felt a difficulty in breathing, and a buzzing

sensation on the crown of the head, as if a hot iron had been there.