Settlement of Moreton Bay--Cunningham in the field again--His discoveries
of the Gwydir, Dumaresque, and Condamine Rivers--The Darling Downs, and
Cunningham's Gap through the range to Moreton Bay--Description of the
Gap--Cunningham's death--Captain Sturt--His first expedition to follow
down the Macquarie--Failure of the river--Efforts of Sturt and Hume to
trace the channel--Discovery of New Year's Creek (the Bogan)--Come
suddenly on the Darling--Dismay at finding the water salt--Retreat to
Mount Harris--Meet the relief party--Renewed attempt down the Castlereagh
River--Trace it to the Darling--Find the water in that river still
salt--Return--Second expedition to follow the Morumbidgee--Favourable
anticipations--Launch of the boats and separation of the party--Unexpected
junction with the Murray--Threatened hostilities with the natives--Averted
in a most singular manner--Junction of large river from the North--Sturt's
conviction that it is the Darling--Continuation of the voyage--Final
arrival at Lake Alexandrina--Return voyage--Starvation and fatigue--
Constant labour at the oars and stubborn courage of the men--Utter
exhaustion--Two men push forward to the relief party and return with
succour.
In 1824, in consequence of the favourable report of Surveyor Oxley, a
penal settlement was formed at Moreton Bay, but it was speedily removed
to a better site on the Brisbane River, where the capital of Queensland
now stands. The natives bestowed upon the abandoned settlement the name
of "Umpie Bong," [Literally, dead houses] which name is still preserved
as Humpybong.
In 1825 Major Lockyer made a long boat excursion up the Brisbane River,
and the stream being somewhat swollen by floods, he was able to
penetrate, according to his own account, nearly one hundred and fifty
miles.
He was much taken with the promising nature of the country, both on the
Brisbane and its tributary, the Bremer, and great hopes, happily
fulfilled, were entertained of the success of the new settlement. During
this year Mr. Cunningham had undertaken another journey to Liverpool
Plains. Threading the pass he had formerly discovered and named Pandora's
Pass, he crossed the plains, and ascended and examined the table land to
the north, returning to Bathurst.
In 1827 this explorer, whose industry never flagged, started on the most
eventful trip he ever made, destined to considerably affect the immediate
progress of the new colony established at Moreton Bay. On the 30th of
April he left Segenhoe Station, on the Upper Hunter, and on crossing
Oxley's 1818 track to Port Macquarie, at once entered on the unexplored
northern region. On the 19th May, after traversing a good deal of
unpromising country, a fertile valley was entered, which led the
travellers on to the banks of the Gwydir River, one of Cunningham's most
important discoveries. He next found and named the Dumaresque River, and
finally emerged on the beautiful plateau, thenceforth known as the
Darling Downs, where the Condamine River received its name, after the
Governor's aide-de-camp. Cunningham's description of this tract of
pastoral country is very glowing:--
"Deep ponds, supported by streams from the highlands immediately to the
eastward, extend along their central lower flats. The lower grounds thus
permanently watered present flats which furnish an almost inexhaustible
range of cattle pasture at all seasons of the year; the grass and
herbage generally exhibiting in the depth of winter an extreme luxuriance
of growth. From these central grounds rise downs of a rich black and dry
soil, and very ample surface; and as they furnish abundance of grass and
are conveniently watered, yet perfectly beyond the reach of those floods
which take place on the flats in a season of rain, they constitute a
sound and valuable sheep pasture."
Here Cunningham halted for some time, with the view of ascertaining the
practicability of a passage across the range to Moreton Bay.
In exploring the mountains immediately above the tents of the encampment,
a remarkably excavated part of the main range was discovered, which
appeared likely to prove available as a pass. Upon examination, the gap
was found to be rugged and broken, partially blocked with fallen masses
of rocks, and overgrown by scrub and jungle. Beyond these impediments,
which could soon be removed, the gap now known as Cunningham's Gap was
apparently available as affording a descent to the lower coast lands.
Relinquishing any further attempts for the present, either through the
mountains or to the western interior, Cunningham returned to the Hunter,
crossing and re-crossing his outward track. He was absent oil this
expedition thirteen weeks.
The following year the discoverer of the Darling Downs, accompanied by
his old companion, Charles Frazer, Colonial Botanist, proceeded by sea to
Moreton Bay with the intention of starting from the settlement and
connecting with his camp on the Darling Downs by way of Cunningham's Gap.
In this attempt he was also accompanied by the Commandant, Captain Logan.
The party followed up the Logan River, and partly ascended Mount Lindsay,
a lofty and remarkable mountain on the Dividing Range. They were,
however, unsuccessful in finding the Gap on this occasion. Cunningham,
however, immediately started from Limestone Station on the Bremer, now
the town of Ipswich, and this time was quite successful. On the 24th Of
August he writes:--
"About one o'clock we passed a mile to the southward of our last
position, and, entering a valley, we pitched our tents within three miles
of the gap we now suspected to be the Pass of last year's journey.
"It being early in the afternoon, I sent one of my people (who, having
been one of my party on that long tour, knew well the features of the
country lying to the westward of the Dividing Range) to trace a series of
forest ridges, which appeared to lead directly up to the foot of the
hollow-back of the range.
"To my utmost gratification he returned at dusk, having traced the ridge
about two and a-half miles to the foot of the Dividing Range, whence he
ascended into the Pass and, from a grassy head immediately above it,
beheld the extensive country lying west of the Main Range. He recognised
Darling and Canning Downs, patches of Peel's Plains, and several
remarkable points of the forest hills on that side, fully identifying
this hollow-back with the pass discovered last year at the head of
Miller's Valley, notwithstanding its very different appearance when
viewed from the eastern country."
The next day, accompanied by one man, Cunningham ascended the pass that
bears his name. Following the ridges, they arrived in about two and
three-quarter miles to the foot of the Gap.
"Immediately the summit of the pass appeared broad before us, bounded on
each side by most stupendous heads, towering at least two thousand feet
above it.
"Here the difficulties of the Pass commenced. We had now penetrated to
the actual foot of the Pass without the smallest difficulty, it now
remained to ascend by a steep slope to the level of its entrance. This
slope is occupied by a very close wood, in which red cedar, sassafras,
palms, and other ornamental inter-tropical trees are frequent. Through
this shaded wood lye penetrated, climbing up a steep bank of a very rich
loose earth, in which large fragments of a very compact rock are embedded.
At length we gained the foot of a wall of bare rock, which we found
stretching from the southward of the Pass.
"This face of naked rock we perceived (by tracing its course northerly)
gradually to fall to the common level, so that, without the smallest
difficulty, and to my utmost surprise, we found ourselves in the highest
part of the Pass, having fully ascertained the extent of the difficult
part, from the entrance into the wood to this point, not to exceed four
hundred yards."
In this comparatively easy manner was the main range crossed, and access
at once obtained from the coastal districts to the rich inland slope--a
startling result when compared with the years of labour and baffled hope
wasted on the Blue Mountains before victory was won.
In the following year (1829) Cunningham went on his last expedition, to
the source of the Brisbane River, and this work concluded ten years of
constant and unceasing labour in the cause of exploration. He died in
Sydney ten years afterwards, on the 27th of June, leaving behind an
undying name, both as a botanist and ardent explorer. During his own
travels, and whilst sailing with Captain King, he had seen more of the
continent than any man then living.
Captain Charles Sturt, of the 39th Regiment! What visions are conjured up
when this name comes on the scene! Cracked and gaping plains, desolate,
desert and abandoned of life, scorched beneath a lurid sun of burning
fire, waterless, hopeless, relentless, and accursed: that is the picture
he draws of the great interior. He had followed up Oxley's footsteps and
exposed the fallacies into which that explorer had fallen, and erred just
as egregiously himself. True, like Oxley, he was the sport of the
seasons. Oxley had followed the rivers down when, year after year, the
regular rainfall had made them navigable for his boats, and had finally
lost them in oceans of reeds. Sturt came when the land was smitten with
drought, and the rivers had dwindled down to the tiniest trickle.
"In the creeks weeds had grown and withered, and grown again and young
saplings were now rising in their beds, nourished by the moisture that
still remained; but the large forest trees were drooping and many were
dead. The emus, with outstretched necks, gasping for breath, searched the
channels of the rivers for water, in vain; and the native dog, so thin
that he could hardly walk, seemed to implore some merciful hand to
dispatch him."
Such was Sturt's description of the state of the country.
In 1828, the year that witnessed his first expedition, no rain had fallen
for two years, and it seemed as though it would never fall again. The
thoughts of the colonists turned to that shallow ocean of reeds to the
westward wherein Oxley had lost the Macquarie, and it was thought that
now would be the time to verify its existence or find out what lay
beyond. Captain Sturt was appointed to take command, and with him went
Hamilton Hume, who had so successfully crossed to Port Phillip. The party
consisted, besides, of two soldiers and eight prisoners of the crown, two
of whom were to return with dispatches. They had with them eight riding
and seven pack horses, two draught and eight pack bullocks. They had also
with them a small boat rigged up on a wheeled carriage.
It would be uninteresting to follow the party over the already known
ground to Mount Harris where Oxley had camped in 1818; this place Sturt
and his men reached on the 20th December, 1828.
"As soon as the camp was fixed, Mr. Hume and I rode to Mount Harris, over
ground subject to flood and covered for the most part by the polygonum,
being too anxious to defer our examination of the neighbourhood even a
few hours. Nearly ten years had elapsed since Mr. Oxley pitched his tents
under the smallest of the two hills into which Mount Harris is broken.
There was no difficulty in hitting upon his position. The trenches that
had been cut round the tents were still perfect, and the marks of the
fire places distinguishable; while the trees in the neighbourhood had
been felled, and round about them the staves of casks, and a few tent
pegs were scattered. Mr. Oxley had selected a place at some distance from
the river on account of its then swollen state. I looked upon it from the
same ground and could not discern the waters in the channel, so much had
they fallen below their ordinary level. On the summit of the great
eminence which we ascended, there remained the half-burnt planks of a
boat, some clenched and rusty nails, and an old trunk; but my search for
the bottle Mr. Oxley had left was unsuccessful.
"A reflection arose to my mind, on examining these decaying vestiges of a
former expedition, whether I should be more fortunate than the leader of
it, and how far I should be enabled to penetrate beyond the point which
had conquered his perseverance. Only a week before I left Sydney I had
followed Mr. Oxley to the tomb. A man of uncommon quickness and of great
ability. The task of following up his discoveries was not less enviable
than arduous; but, arrived at that point at which his journey may be said
to have terminated and mine only to commence, I knew not how soon I
should be obliged, like him, to retreat from the marshes and exhalations
of so depressed a country. My eye turned instinctively to the north-west,
and the view extended over an apparently endless forest. I could trace
the river line of trees by their superior height, but saw no appearance
of reeds save the few that grew on the banks of the stream."
Satisfied, after consultation with his companion Hume, that there was no
obstacle to their onward march, they left their position, intending, as
Sturt says, "to close with the marshes."
The night of the first day found them camped amongst the reeds, which
they came upon sooner than they expected, and the next day they halted
for the purpose of preparing the dispatches for the Governor. On the
morning of the 26th, the journey was resumed, the two messengers leaving
for Bathurst, the rest proceeding onward until checked by finding
themselves in the great body of the marsh, which spread in boundless
extent around them.
"It was evidently," says the leader, "lower than the ground on which we
stood; we had, therefore, a complete view of the whole expanse, and there
was a dreariness and desolation pervading the scene which strengthened as
we gazed upon it."
Under the circumstances, an advance with the main body of the party was
considered unwise, and it was determined to launch the boat, and try and
follow the course of the river, whilst a simultaneous attempt was made to
penetrate the reed bed to the north. Accordingly Sturt, with two men,
started in the boat, and Hume and two more struck north.
Sturt's boating expedition came very quickly to a close. In the afternoon
of the day he started:--
" . . . the channel which had promised so well, without any change in
its breadth or depth, ceased altogether, and while we were yet lost in
astonishment at so abrupt a termination of it the boat grounded."
All search was fruitless, and mysteriously and completely baffled as
Oxley had been, so was his successor, and there was nothing for it but to
return to camp.
Hume had been more successful. He reported finding a serpentine sheet of
water to the northward, which he did not doubt was the channel of the
river. He had pushed on, but was checked by another of the seemingly
inevitable marshes.
On the 28th the camp was shifted to this lagoon, and the boat was
launched once more; without result. The new-found channel was soon lost
in reeds and shallows. Forced to halt again, Hume went to the north-east
to scout, and Sturt went north-west, each accompanied, as before, by two
men. They left the camp on the last day of the year.
After sunset on the first day, Sturt struck a creek of considerable size
leading northerly, having good water in its bed. The next day, after
passing through alternate plain and brush for eighteen miles, a second
creek was found, inferior to the first both in size and the quality of
the water; it too ran northerly. Crossing this creek, after a short halt,
they travelled through stony ridges and open forest, and at night camped
on the edge of a waterless plain, after a hot and thirsty ride; here one
of the men, noticing the flight of a pigeon, found a small puddle of rain
water that just sufficed them. Next day, the country steadily improving
in appearance, they made west by south for an isolated mountain with
perpendicular sides, from the top of which Sturt trusted to see something
hopeful ahead. He was disappointed, the country was monotonous and level,
and no sign of a river could be seen. They camped that night at a small
swamp, and next morning Sturt turned back, like Oxley, coming to the
conclusion that:--
"Yet upon the whole, the space I traversed is unlikely to become the
haunt of civilised man, or will become so in isolated spots, as a chain
of connection to a more fertile country; if such a country exist to the
westward."
Hume had not returned when the party reached the main camp on the 5th of
January; the next day he made his appearance. He reported having
travelled, on various courses, about thirty miles N.N.W. over an
indifferent country. He had anticipated meeting with the Castlereagh, but
had been forced to conclude that that river had taken a more northerly
course than Mr. Oxley had supposed. He went westward, and across fine
far-stretching plains, but saw no sign of the Macquarie River having
re-formed, crossing nothing but small 'reeks or chains of ponds.
Most of the men, including Hume, complaining of sickness, he camp was
shifted four miles to the north, on to a chain of ponds reported by Hume.
This creek they followed down, when it disappointed them by disappearing
in the marsh. Without water, they continued skirting the low country
until fatigue compelled them to stop, when, by digging shallow wells in
the reeds, they obtained a small supply. From here they made their way by
a different route to the hill that had terminated Sturt's late trip, and
which he had christened Oxley's Tableland. Here they rested a few days,
and Sturt and Hume, with two men, made another excursion westward, but
without result.
Their only resource now was to make north to a creek that they had
followed down on their way to Oxley's tableland, and see where it would
lead them.
On the 31st January they came upon this creek, which was called by them
New Year's Creek, now the Bogan, and the next day they suddenly found
themselves on the brink of a noble river:--
"The party drew up upon a bank that was from forty to forty-five feet
above the level of the stream. The channel of the river was from seventy
to eighty yards broad, and enclosed an unbroken sheet of water, evidently
very deep, and literally covered with pelicans and other wild fowl. Our
surprise and delight may better be imagined than described. Our
difficulties seemed to be at an end, for here was a river that promised
to reward all our exertions, and which appeared every moment to increase
in importance to our imaginations. Coming from the N.E. and flowing to
the S.W., it had a capacity of channel that proved that we were as far
from its source as from its termination. The paths of the natives on
either side of it were like trodden roads, and the trees that overhung it
were of beautiful and gigantic growth.
"The banks were too precipitous to 'allow of our watering the cattle, but
the men descended eagerly to quench their thirst, which a powerful sun
had contributed to increase; nor shall I ever forget the cry of amazement
that followed their doing so, or the looks of terror and disappointment
with which they called out to inform me that the water was so salt as to
be unfit to drink. This was indeed too true. On tasting it, I found it
extremely nauseous, and strongly impregnated with salt, being apparently
a mixture of sea and fresh water. . . Our hopes were annihilated at the
moment of their apparent realisation. The cup of joy was dashed out of
our hands before we had time to raise it to our lips."
Finding fresh feed lower down the river, the party halted for the benefit
of the cattle, who, unable to drink the water, soaked their bodies in it.
Meantime, although the tracks of the natives were abundant, they looked
in vain for any of them. Fortunately, that night Hume found a pond of
fresh water, and the party were refreshed once more. The phenomena of the
salt river was puzzling to Sturt, though too familiar now to excite
wonder; the long continued drought having lowered the river so that the
brine springs in the banks preponderated over the fresh water, was of
course the explanation, and it is a common characteristic of inland
watercourses. The size of the river and the saltness of its water,
however, partly convinced Sturt that he was near its confluence with an
inland sea; so for six days they moved slowly down the river, finding,
however, no change in its formation, until the discovery of saline
springs in the bank convinced the leader that the saltness was of local
origin.
Leaving the party encamped at a small pool of fresh water, Sturt and Hume
pushed ahead to look for more, but without success. Before leaving they
were startled, one afternoon, by a loud report like a distant cannon, for
which they could in noway account, as the sky was clear and without a
cloud. [These strange reports have since been frequently heard, often at
the same moment, at places more than a hundred miles apart. The cause is
generally ascribed to atmospheric disturbances.]
The advance was now checked, no fresh water could be found on ahead, and
their animals were weak and exhausted. Sturt christened the river the
Darling, and gave the order to retreat.
As they again approached Mount Harris on the Macquarie, where they
expected to find a relief party with fresh supplies, fears began to be
entertained regarding the safety of those who might be awaiting them at
the depôt. The reed beds were in flames in all parts, and the few natives
they met displayed a guilty timidity, and one was observed with a jacket
in his possession. Their fears were, however, fortunately vain, the
natives had made one attempt to surprise the camp, but it had been
frustrated, and the relief party had now been some three weeks awaiting
the return of the explorers.
Sturt rested for some days, during which time Hume made a short western
trip.. to the south of the marsh land. He reported that for thirty miles
the country was superior to anything they had yet seen, and exceedingly
well watered; beyond that distance the plains and brush of the remote
interior again resumed their sway.
On the 7th March the party struck camp and made for the Castlereagh, the
relief going back to Bathurst. On the 10th they reached the Castlereagh,
and found it apparently without a drop of water in its bed. From here
downwards the old harassing hunt for water commenced once more, and as
they descended the river they were further puzzled by the intricate
windings of its course and the number of channels that intersected the
depressed country they were travelling through. On the 29th they again
struck the Darling, ninety miles above the spot where they had discovered
it:
"This singular river still preserved its character so strikingly that it
was impossible not to have recognised it in a moment. The same steep
banks and lofty timber, the same deep reaches, alive with fish, were here
visible as when we left it. A hope naturally arose to our minds, that if
it was unchanged in other respects, it might have lost the saltness that
rendered its waters unfit for use; but in this we were disappointed-even
its waters continued the same."
Fortunately the adventurers were not this time in such unhappy straits
for water as before, so that the disappointment was less intense. Knowing
what they might expect if they followed the Darling down south, the party
at once halted. It was evident that to the east and north-east, the
rigorous drought had put its mark on the land, from the fact that large
bodies of natives driven in from that direction were congregated round
the few permanent waters left. A reconnoitring expedition across the
Darling to the N.W. was accordingly determined on, to see if any advance
into the interior was possible, and after a camp had been formed Sturt
and Hume started on the quest. No encouragement to proceed resulted. By
four p.m. they found themselves on a plain that stretched far away and
bounded the horizon.
"It was dismally brown, a few trees only served to mark the distance. Up
one of the highest I sent Hopkins on, who reported that he could not see
the end of it, and that all around looked blank and desolate. It is a
singular fact that during the whole day we had not seen a drop of water
or a blade of grass.
"To have stopped where we were would, therefore, have been impossible;
to have advanced would probably have been ruin. Had there been one
favourable circumstance to have encouraged me with the hope of success I
would have proceeded. Had we picked up a stone, as indicating our
approach to high land, I would have gone on; or had there been a break in
the country, or even a change in the vegetation; but we had left all
traces of the natives behind us, and this seemed a desert they never
entered--that not even a bird inhabited. I could not encourage a hope of
success, and therefore gave up the point, not from want of means, but a
conviction of the inutility of any further efforts. If there is any blame
to be attached to the measure it is I who am in fault; but none who had
not like me traversed the interior at such a season would believe the
state of the country over which I had wandered. During the short interval
I had been out, I had seen rivers cease to flow before me and sheets of
water disappear, and had it not been for a merciful Providence should,
ere reaching the Darling, have been overwhelmed by misfortune.
"I am giving no false picture of the reality. So long had the drought
continued that the vegetable kingdom was almost annihilated, and minor
vegetation had disappeared."
Once more the order to retreat from the inhospitable Darling was given,
and the weary march home recommenced. On their way they traced and
followed a defined channel, or depression, formerly crossed by Hume, and
ascertained it to be the outflow of the Macquarie Marshes. On the 7th of
April, 1829, they reached Mount Harris.
The mystery of the Macquarie was now, to a certain extent, cleared up,
but there still remained another riddle to solve in the course and outlet
of the Darling. Sturt, the discoverer of this river, was destined to find
the answer to this problem as well.
We have now traced the gradual extension of exploration to the westward,
and seen a river system growing up, as it were, piece by piece, as the
result of these expeditions; it may, therefore, be as well to continue to
follow up Captain Sturt's expeditions, and note how the Murray and its
tributary streams were gradually elaborated, before touching upon events
at this time occurring afar on the south-west coast of the continent.
The desire to ascertain the course of the Darling naturally became a
subject of great interest so soon as the result of Captain Sturt's
expedition was known; and the Macquarie and Lachlan rivers having failed
to afford a means of reaching the interior, it was determined to try the
Morumbidgee. The fact that this river derived its supply from the highest
known mountains, and was independent, to a large extent, of the
periodical rainfall, was a great inducement to hope for success.
Almost exactly a year after he had started on his journey down the
Macquarie, Captain Sturt left Sydney, on his Morumbidgee expedition, on
the 3rd of November, 1829.
Hume, was not, on this occasion, able to accompany the party, his own
affairs on his farm needing his attention; doubtless in spirit he was
often with them, and it would have been but fitting had the discoverer of
the Murray or Hume, been one of the party to first trace its downward
course. In Hume's place went George M'Leay, the son of the then Colonial
Secretary, Alexander M'Leay; with them also went Harris, Hopkinson, and
Fraser, members of the Macquarie expedition,
To our modern eyes the appearance of the troop that marched out of
Sydney, early that summer morning, would have looked strange indeed.
"At a quarter before seven the party filed through the turnpike gate, and
thus commenced its journey with the greatest regularity. I have the scene
even at this distance of time, vividly impressed upon my mind, and I have
no doubt the kind friend who was with me on the occasion bears it as
strongly on his recollection. My servant Harris, who had shared my
wanderings, and had continued in my service for eighteen years, led the
advance with his companion Hopkinson; nearly abreast of them the
eccentric Frazer stalked along, wholly lost in thought. The two former
had laid aside their military habits, and had substituted the
broad-brimmed hat, and the bushman's dress in their place, but it was
impossible to guess how Frazer intended to protect himself from the heat
or damp, so little were his habiliments suited for the occasion. He had
his gun over his shoulder, and his double shot belt as full as it could
be of shot, although there was not a chance of his expending a grain
during the day. Some dogs Mr. Maxwell had kindly sent me followed close
at his heels, as if they knew his interest in them, and they really
seemed as if they were aware that they were about to exchange their late
confinement for the freedom of the woods. The whole of these formed a
kind of advanced guard. At some distance in the rear the drays moved
slowly along, on one of which rode the black boy; Robert Harris, whom I
had appointed to superintend the animals generally, kept his place near
the horses, and the heavy Clayton, my carpenter, brought up the rear."
It will be needless to follow the progress of the party through the
settled districts that now extended to the banks of the Morumbidgee: on
the 27th, we find them preparing to start from Mr. Whaby's station, the
last outpost of civilization. From thence they followed the river down,
maintaining constant and friendly intercourse with the natives on the
banks. For some time they passed through rich available country, and at
one point they made a slight excursion to the north to connect with
Oxley's most southerly limit; although they did not actually verify it,
Sturt was of the opinion that they were within at least twenty miles of
the range seen by Oxley. Still following the river they now found its
course leading them amongst the plains and flat country with which they
were so well acquainted, and naturally travelled in the constant dread of
the stream conducting them to the lame and impotent conclusions of the
Macquarie and Lachlan.
"OUR ROUTE WAS OVER AS MELANCHOLY A TRACT AS EVER WAS TRAVELLED. THE
PLAINS TO THE N. AND N.W. BOUNDED THE HORIZON; NOT A TREE OF ANY KIND WAS
VISIBLE UPON THEM. IT WAS EQUALLY OPEN TO THE SOUTH, AND IT APPEARED AS
IF THE RIVER WAS DECOYING US INTO A DESERT, THERE TO LEAVE US IN
DIFFICULTY AND IN DISTRESS."
Sturt now was constantly haunted with the thought of once more finding
himself baffled and perplexed in some vast region of flooded country,
without a defined system of channels. Every time he looked at the river
he imagined that it had fallen off in appearance, feeling certain that
the flooded spaces over which he was travelling would soon be succeeded
by a country overgrown with reeds. The flats of polygonum stretched away
to the N.W., and to the S., and the soil itself bore testimony to its
flooded origin. Some natives here met with spoke of the COLARE, a name
which Sturt had beard before, and which he took to mean the Lachlan, from
the direction in which the blacks pointed. These men indicated that they
were but one day's journey from it. Sturt and M'Leay, therefore, rode to
the north to examine the country; they found a creek of considerable
size, and from its appearance and the nature of the surrounding flats,
deemed it to be a similar channel from the Lachlan marshes to the
Morumbidgee, as the one Sturt and Hume had formerly noticed to the north,
leading from the great marsh of the Macquarie to the Darling. In point of
fact they actually crossed the Lachlan, and went some distance beyond it,
passing close to Oxley's lowest camp, as the natives afterwards testified
to Major Mitchell.
The extract from the Major's journal bearing on the subject runs thus:--
"The natives further informed me that three men on horseback, who had
canoes (boats) on the Murrumbidgee, had visited the Lachlan thereabouts
since, and that after crossing it, and going a little way beyond, they
had returned."
Sturt mentioned seeing the fires of the natives during this trip, but he
did not see them, although it was evident that they had a good look at
him.
On the 26th of December, it seemed that their gloomiest hopes were to be
realised. Traversing plains like those described before, Sturt says:--
"The wheels of the drays sank up to their axle-trees, and the horses
above their fetlocks at every step. The fields of polygonum spread on
every side of us, like a dark sea, and the only green object within range
of our vision was the river line of trees. In several instances the force
of both teams was put to one dray, to extricate it from the bed into
which it had sunk, and the labour was considerably increased from the
nature of the weather. The wind was blowing as if through a furnace, from
the N.N.E., and the dust was flying in clouds, so as to render it almost
suffocating to remain exposed to it. This was the only occasion upon
which we felt the hot winds in the interior. We were, about noon,
endeavouring to gain a point of a wood at which I expected to come upon
the river again, but it was impossible for the teams to reach it without
assistance. I therefore sent M'Leay forward with orders to unload the
pack animals as soon as he should make the river, and send them back to
help the teams. He had scarcely been separated from me twenty minutes,
when one of the men came galloping back to inform me that no river was to
be found--that the country beyond the woods was covered with reeds as far
as the eye could reach, and that Mr. M'Leay had sent him back for
instructions. This intelligence stunned me for a moment or two, and I am
sure its effect upon the men was very great. They had unexpectedly
arrived at a part of the interior similar to one they held in dread, and
conjured up a thousand difficulties and privations. I desired the man to
recall Mr. M'Leay; and, after gaining the wood, moved outside of it at
right angles to my former course, and reached the river, after a day of
severe toil and exposure at half-past five. The country, indeed, bore
every resemblance to that around the marshes of the Macquarie, but I was
too weary to make any further effort; indeed it was too late for one to
undertake anything until the morning."
The following day, accompanied by his friend, Sturt proceeded to examine
the river. He found it still running strong, without any sign of
diminution in its flow, but the reedy flats were so dense and thick that
no passage for the teams was practicable. At noon the leader halted, and
announced his intention of returning to camp. He had come to the
determination to construct the whaleboat he had with him in sections, to
send the teams back, and, with six men and Mr. M'Leay, to start down the
river, and follow it wherever it went; whether ever to return again or
not was for the future to determine.
Clayton, the carpenter, was at once set to work upon the boat, or boats,
for a tree was felled, a sawpit rigged up, and a small boat half the size
of the whaleboat built. Everybody worked hard, and in seven days the
boats were afloat, moored alongside a temporary wharf, ready for loading.
Six men were then chosen to form the crew, who were about to undertake
one of the most eventful and important voyages in Australia's history.
They were Clayton, the carpenter, Mulholland and Macnamee, the three
soldiers, Harris, Hopkinson and Fraser, the leader, and M'Leay--eight in
all. The remainder of the party, under Robert Harris, were to remain
stationary one week, in case of accident, then to proceed to Goulburn
Plains and await instructions from Sydney.
On the 7th of January, 1830, the voyagers started, towing the smaller
boat, the men all in high spirits at the wide prospect of adventure
before them.
Going with the stream they made rapid progress, using only two oars, but
the first day did not suffice to carry them clear of the reeds, in fact,
at night when they landed to camp, they could scarcely find room to pitch
their tents. On the second day, an accident happened to the skiff they
were towing; she struck on a log, and immediately sank with all the
valuable cargo she carried. Two days were spent in recovering the things,
as the boat had gone down in twelve feet of water, and during the time
they were so employed, the blacks robbed the camp of many articles.
Once more on the move, they found the river still winding its way through
a flat expanse of reeds, and threatening to end as the other rivers had
done. On the afternoon of the next day a change for the better took
place; the reeds on both sides of the river terminated, and the country
became more elevated, and bore the appearance of open forest pasture
land; a tributary creek of considerable size joined the river from the
S.E., and the spirits of the voyagers rose again. More tributaries now
came in from the south-east, and the dangers of navigation increased, the
river being full of snags and fallen timber, and the utmost care had to
be used to keep the boat clear. On the second day of this distressing
work, they were destined to meet with a surprise.
"About one we again started. The men looked anxiously ahead, for the
singular change in the river had impressed on them the idea that we were
approaching its termination, or near some adventure. On a sudden the
river took a general southern direction, but, in its tortuous course,
swept round to every point of the compass with the greatest irregularity.
We were carried at a fearful rate down its gloomy and contracted banks,
and in such a moment of excitement, had little time to pay attention to
the country through which we were passing. It was, however, observed that
chalybeate springs were numerous close to the water's edge. At three
p.m., Hopkinson called out that we were approaching a junction, and in
less than a minute afterwards we were hurried into a broad and noble
river.
"It is impossible to describe the effect of so instantaneous a change
upon us. The boats were allowed to drift along at pleasure, and such was
the force with which we had been shot out of the Morumbidgee, that we
were carried nearly to the bank opposite its embouchure, whilst we
continued to gaze in silent astonishment on the capacious channel we had
entered; and when we looked for that by which we had been led into it, we
could hardly believe that the insignificant gap that presented itself to
us was indeed the termination of the beautiful and noble stream whose
course we had thus successfully followed."
Sturt had now succeeded beyond his hopes--his bold adventure had been
rewarded even sooner than he could have expected. He felt assured that at
last he floated on the stream destined to bear him to the sea. The key to
the river system of the south-east portion of the continent was in his
grasp, and all former fallacies and fanciful theories were answered for
good. The voyage down the Murray, as this river was named, after Sir
George Murray, then the bead of the Colonial Department, now continued
free from some of the difficulties that had beset them in the
Morumbidgee. The natives again made their appearance, and were constantly
seen every day, some betraying great timidity, others appearing more
curious than frightened. Four of these natives accompanied them for two
days, during which time the explorers narrowly suffered wreck in a rapid
in the river.
They now approached the confluence of the Darling, although of course
they were not then able to verify the supposition that it was their old
friend, and at this point one of the most singular adventures ever
narrated in the intercourse with native tribes happened.
The wind was fair, and with the sail set, the boat was making rapid way
when, at the termination of a long reach, they observed a line of
magnificent trees, of green and dense foliage. A large number of blacks
were here assembled, and apparently with no friendly intentions, armed,
painted, and shouting defiance. Anxious to avert hostilities, Sturt
steered straight for them, thinking to make friends; but when almost too
close to avoid a meeting, he could see that the matter was serious. The
blacks had their spears poised for throwing, and their women were behind
with a fresh supply. The sail was lowered and the helm put about, and the
boat passed down the stream, the natives running along the bank, keeping
pace with them, shouting and attempting to take aim.
To add to their danger the river shoaled rapidly, and a sandspit appeared
ahead, projecting nearly two thirds of the way across the channel, and on
this spit the blacks now gathered with tremendous uproar, evidently
determined to make an assault on the boat as she ran the gauntlet through
the narrow passage. Amongst the four blacks who had accompanied them for
two days was one of superior personal strength and stature. These men had
left the camp of the whites the night before, and it was believing in
their presence in the crowd before them that led Sturt to disregard the
hostile demonstrations.
A battle now seemed inevitable. Arms were distributed to the crew, and
orders given how to act when the emergency arose.
We will let Sturt tell his own story:--
"The men assured me they would follow my instructions, and thus prepared,
having already lowered the sail, we drifted onwards with the current. As
we neared the sand-bank, I stood up and made signs to the natives to
desist, but without success. I took up my gun, therefore, and cocking it,
had already brought it down to a level; a few seconds more would have
closed the life of the nearest savage. The distance was too trifling for
me to doubt the fatal effects of the discharge; for I was determined to
take deadly aim, in hopes that the fall of one man might save the lives
of many. But at the very moment when my hand was on the trigger, and my
eye was along the barrel, my purpose was checked by M'Leay, who called to
me that another party of blacks had made their appearance upon the left
bank of the river. Turning round, I observed four men at the top of their
speed. The foremost of them, as soon as he got ahead of the boat, threw
himself from a considerable height into the water. He struggled across
the channel to the sandbank, and in an incredibly short space of time
stood in front of the savage, against whom my aim had been directed.
Seizing him by the throat, he pushed him backwards, and forcing all who
were in the water upon the bank, he trod its margin with a vehemence and
an agitation that were exceedingly striking. At one moment pointing to
the boat, at another shaking his clenched hand in the faces of the most
forward, and stamping with passion on the sand; his voice, that was at
first distinct, was lost in hoarse murmurs. Two of the four natives
remained on the left bank of the river, the third followed his leader
(who proved to be the remarkable savage I have previously noticed) to the
scene of action. The reader will imagine our feelings on this occasion;
it is impossible to describe them. We were so wholly lost in interest at
the scene that was passing, that the boat was allowed to drift at
pleasure.
"We were again aroused to action by the boat suddenly striking upon a
shoal, which reached from one side of the river to the other. To jump out
and push her into deep water was but the work of a moment with the men,
and it was just as she floated again that our attention was withdrawn to
a new and beautiful stream, coming apparently from the north. . . . A
party of about seventy blacks were upon the right bank of the newly
discovered river, and I thought that by landing amongst them I might make
a diversion in favour of our late guest, and in this I succeeded. The
blacks no sooner observed that we had landed than curiosity took the
place of anger. All wrangling ceased, and they came swimming over to us
like a parcels of seals . . . It was not until after we had returned to
the boat, and had surveyed the multitude on the sloping bank above us
that we became fully aware of the extent of our danger, and of the almost
miraculous intervention of Providence in our favour. There could not have
been less than six hundred natives upon that blackened sward."
After presenting their friend who had acted so effectively on their
behalf, and whose energetic conduct and prompt interference to preserve
peace is unparalleled in native annals, with suitable gifts and refusing
them to the other chiefs, the boat's crew proceeded to examine the new
river they had discovered at such a critical moment.
Pulling easily up for a short distance they found it preserved a breadth
of one hundred yards, and a depth of rather more than twelve feet, The
banks were sloping and grassy, crowned with fine trees, and the men
exclaimed that they had got into an English river.
To Sturt himself the moment was a supreme one; was it, or was it not that
mysterious Darling, whose course through the far interior had been a
subject of speculation ever since its discovery? He felt sure that it
was.
"An irresistible conviction impressed me that we were now sailing on the
bosom of that very stream from whose banks I had been twice forced to
retire. I directed the Union jack to be hoisted, and giving way to our
satisfaction we all stood up in the boat and gave three distinct cheers.
It was an English feeling, an ebullition, an overflow, which I am ready
to admit that our circumstances and situation will alone excuse. The eve
of every native had been fixed upon that noble flag, at all times a
beautiful object, and to them a novel one, as it waved over us in the
heart of the desert. They had until that moment been particularly
loquacious, but the sight of that flag and the sound of our voices hushed
the tumult, and while they were still lost in astonishment, the boat's
head was turned, the sail was sheeted home, both wind and current were in
our favour, and we vanished from them with a rapidity that surprised even
ourselves, and which precluded every hope of the most adventurous among
them to keep up with us."
Once Pore down the now united streams of the Murray and the Darling the
party made rapid progress, landing occasionally to inspect the country,
but finding always a boundless flat on either side of them.
Provisions now began to get scarce with them, the barrels of salt pork
that had been in the skiff when she sank in the Morumbidgee had their
contents damaged by the admission of the fresh water. The fish, though
abundant, were more than unattractive to their palates, and the men took
no trouble to set the night lines. The strictest economy had, therefore,
to become the order of the day. The skiff being only a drag to them, she
was broken up, and burnt for the sake of the nails and iron-work.
On the 24th of January, the whale-boat continued its voyage alone, and
the record from day to day was only broken by their intercourse with the
different tribes, with whom a regular system of communication was now
established. Deputies were sent ahead, from one tribe to another, to
prepare them for the visit of the strangers. These deputies, by cutting
off the numerous bends of the river, were enabled to travel much quicker
than did Sturt, frequently doing easily in one day what it took the boat
two to accomplish. Their black friends were, however, becoming rather a
nuisance; little or no information could be obtained from them, and the
constant handling and embracing, which they had from policy to submit to,
became horribly distasteful to all of them, particularly as Sturt
describes all the tribes he met with as being beyond the average filthily
dirty, and eaten up with skin diseases.
On the 25th, the wanderers thought they sighted a range to the N.W., and
the blacks confirmed it, pointing in that direction when Hopkinson piled
up some clay in imitation of mountains.
On the 29th, the leader calculated that they were still one hundred and
fifteen miles from the coast, and as they had been now twenty-two days on
the river, their return began to be a matter for serious thought. From
what he saw of the country, Sturt imagined that it was, for the most
part, barren and sandy, and would never be utilised. But, of course, he
had little or no opportunities, travelling as he did, of forming a
correct judgment.
The cliffs on the river bank now showed fossilized sea shells in their
strata; chains of hills, too, became visible, and one of the natives,
[This old native, after the settlement of the country, was shot in cold
blood by one of the South Australian police.] an old man who had taken a
strange fancy to Hopkinson, described the roaring of the sea and the
height of the waves, showing that he had visited the coast. None, it may
be certain, were more glad than the leader to hear of their proximity,
for his thoughts were always busy with the failing condition of his men,
and the accumulating difficulties of his return.
True, it had been partly arranged that a vessel should proceed to the
south coast, but Sturt had little hope of meeting her, even if one had
been sent. The frequent bends in the river greatly delayed their advance,
but they were cheered by the flight of sea-gulls over their heads. The
river, too, widened day after day, and a constant strong wind from the
S.W., raised a chopping sea that almost stopped their way; the blacks they
met all assured them that the ocean was at hand. On the 9th February,
Sturt landing to examine the country, saw before him the lake that
terminated the Murray. He had reached his goal, thirty-three days after
separating from his party, at the Morumbidgee. Crossing the lake the
little band landed on the southern shore, and ascertained that the
communication between it and the sea was impracticable on account of its
extreme shallowness; they found their position to be in Encounter Bay,
east of Spencer's Gulf, and from what they saw it was evident that no
ship could enter it during the prevalence of the S.W. winds. All hope of
a safe return centred in themselves. The thunder of the surf, that they
had so longed for, brought no message of succour, but rather warned the
lonely men to hasten back, while yet some strength remained to them; and
above all they were surrounded by hostile blacks. Sturt had now a
terrible task before him. His men were weakened and on half rations;
there was every probability that the fickle natives might be troublesome
on their homeward route, and worst of all they would have to fight the
steady current of the river the whole way; nor would their spirits be
cheered by any hope of novelty or discovery. Under these gloomy auspices
Sturt re-entered the Murray on his return on the 13th February.
The homeward journey is simply a record of unrelaxed toil day after day,
Sturt and M'Leay taking their turn at the oar like the rest; added to
which the blacks gave them far more trouble than before. At the fall
above the junction of the Darling they once more met the friend who had
saved them from coming into conflict with the natives on the 24th
January; he and some of his tribe assisted them to get the boat up the
rapids. On the 20th of March they reached the camp on the Morumbidgee
from whence they had started, but it was now abandoned, and the hope that
the relief party had pushed down there to meet them was destroyed; there
was nothing for it but to pull on, but human nature was rapidly giving
way; the men though falling asleep at their oars never grumbled, but
worked steadily, if moodily, faithful to their duty to the last. Then the
river rose, and for days they struggled vainly against it. One man went
mad, and had to be relieved from the oars. At last, when ninety miles
from Pontebadgery, the place where Sturt believed the relief party to be
camped, he determined to dispatch two men for provisions and await their
return.
After six days, when the last ounce of flour had been served out, the men
came back with horses and drays, and all trouble was at an end. This was
on the 18th April, eighty-eight days after their departure from the
depôt, during which they had voyaged two thousand miles.
This expedition, from whatever light it is regarded, either as the most
important contribution ever made to Australian geography, or as an
example of most wonderful endurance, and patient heroism is equally one
of the most glorious records in this history. The leader and his men were
alike worthy of each other.
We have now had in review the opinion of many men on the future of the
great interior, and seen how they all alike predicted for it barrenness
and desolation. Even the satisfaction that Sturt felt at accomplishing
the descent of the Murray was qualified by a consideration of the
valueless country it flowed through. The question will naturally be
asked, how could men of such ability and more than average shrewdness
make such a gross mistake as the succeeding years have proved their
opinion to be? The principal reason will be found in their want of
experience in witnessing the development and improvement of land by
stocking, and their ignorance of the value of the vegetation they
condemned as worthless. Hume was the only man amongst them exceptionally
fitted by training to judge of the capability of the land, and we do not
often get at his direct opinion, nor is it likely that, with the memory
of the green meadow lands and sparkling waters of the Morumbidgee fresh
in his mind, it would be a very favourable one. Oxley and Sturt both
wrote smarting under disappointment, and both had been suddenly
confronted with a new and strange experience which they could associate
with nothing but the idea of a desert. That all this seemingly desolate
waste should one day have a distinctive value of its own was what they
could hardly dream of.