Lieutenants Grey and Lushington on the West Coast--Narrow escape--Start
with an equipment of Timor ponies--Grey wounded by the natives--Cave
drawings--Return, having discovered the Glenelg--Grey's second
expedition--Landed at Bernier Island, in Shark's Bay, with three
whale-boats--Cross to borne Island--Violent storm--Discovery of the
Gascoyne--Return to Bernier Island--Find their CACHÉ of provisions
destroyed by a hurricane--Hopeless position--Attempted landing at
Gautheaume Bay--Destruction of the boats--Walk to Perth--Great
sufferings--Death of Smith--Eyre and the overlanders--Discovery of Lake
Hindmarsh--Exploration of Gippsland--Eyre's explorations to the
north--Discovery of Lake Torrens--Disappointment in the country bordering
on it--Determines to go to King George's Sound--Repeated attempts to
reach the head of the Great Australian Bight--Loss of horses--Barren and
scrubby country--Final determination to send back most of the party--
Starts with overseer and three natives--Hardship and suffering--Murder of
the overseer by two of the natives--Eyre continues his journey with the
remaining boy--Relieved by the MISSISSIPPI whaler--Reaches King George's
Sound.
An expedition, most unique in its composition, now made an attempt on the
west coast to penetrate inland, and also verify the existence or
non-existence of the large river, still currently supposed to find its
way into the sea at Dampier's Archipelago. The expedition was placed
under the command of Lieutenant Grey, Mr. Lushington acting as second in
command. It originated in England, and its members, with one exception,
were what would locally be called "new chums." The one exception was a
sailor, named Ruston, who had been with Captain King on one of his
surveying voyages; an experience that, under an older leader might have
made him a most serviceable man, but, otherwise, scarcely deserved the
stress that Grey laid upon his acquisition. Most of the equipment was
procured at the Cape of Good Hope, where a small vessel--the LYNHER--was
chartered, and the landing-place in Australia was at Hanover Bay, on the
extreme north-west coast, near the mouth of the Prince Regent's River;
though, why this particular point was chosen, does not appear quite
clear. Being becalmed a short distance from Hanover Bay, the foolish
impetuosity of the young explorers very nearly put an abrupt ending to
their journey. Grey, Lushington, and four men landed, and started to walk
across to Hanover Bay, there to be picked up again by the LYNHER. It was
December, the middle of a tropical summer, and they took with them two
pints of water. They all very soon knocked up. Grey swam across an inlet
to try and signal the schooner, and nearly lost his life doing so.
Fortunately, the the flashes of their guns, with which they kept firing
distress signals, were noticed on board, and a boat came to their rescue.
This was an inauspicious beginning.
After landing the stores, the LYNHER sailed for Timor, to procure some
ponies and other live stock, and on the 17th of January, 1838, she
returned. At the end of January, Grey and his party started from the
coast with twenty-six half-broken Timor ponies as a baggage train, and
some sheep and goats. The rainy season had set in, and the stock began to
die almost before they had well started, added to which, the party were
entangled in steep ravines and spurs from the coast range, and their
strength worn out in useless ascents and descents. On the 11th of
February, they came into collision with the natives, and Grey was
severely wounded.
On the leader recovering sufficiently to be lifted on one of the ponies,
a fresh start was made, and on the 2nd of March they were rewarded by
finding a river, which they called the Glenelg, unaware that Mitchell had
already usurped the name. The adventurers followed the course of this
river upward, traversing good country, well grassed and timbered, so far
as their limited experience allowed them to judge. Sometimes their route
was on the river's bank, and at other times by keeping to the foot of a
sandstone range that ran parallel with its course, they were enabled to
cut off some wearisome bends.
The party continued on the Glenelg for many days until they were checked
by a large tributary coming from the north, causing them to fall back on
the range, both the river and its tributary being swollen and flooded. On
this range they discovered some curious paintings and drawings in the
caves scattered amongst the rocks, also a head in profile cut in the face
of a sandstone rock. [See Appendix.] Unable to find a pass through the
mountains, which barred their western progress, and greatly weakened by
his wound, Grey determined to return, but before doing so he sent Mr.
Lushington some distance ahead, who, however, could find no noticeable
change in the country.
The expedition, therefore retraced their footsteps, and on the 15th of
April they reached Hanover Bay, and found the schooner at anchor, and
H.M.S. BEAGLE lying in the neighbouring Port George the Fourth. Thus
ended the first expedition; toil, danger, and hardships having been
incurred for little or no purpose, the discovery of the Glenelg River
being the only result obtained, and perhaps, some little experience. The
party having embarked, they sailed for the Isle of France in the
Mauritius, where they safely arrived.
In August, Grey visited the Swan River, and endeavoured to get assistance
from Sir James Stirling, the Governor, to continue his explorations; no
vessel being available, he had to wait some time before making a start,
during which delay he made short excursions from Perth into the
surrounding country.
On the 17th of February, 1839, he started once more in an American
whaler, taking with him three whale-boats. The objects of this expedition
are not very definite. The whaler was to land them and their boats at
Shark's Bay, or on one of the islands: there they intended to form a
depôt. After examining the bay, and making such incursions inland as they
found possible, they were to extend their operations to the north as long
as their provisions lasted, when they would return to the depôt and make
their way south.
The party consisted of Grey himself, four of his former companions, a
young volunteer, Mr. Frederick Smith, five other men, and a native,
twelve in all. They were landed on Bernier Island, and at once their
troubles commenced. The whaler sailed away taking with her, by an
oversight, their whole supply of tobacco; there was no water on the
island, and on the first attempt to start one of the boats was smashed up
and nearly half a ton of stores lost. The next day they landed at Dorre
Island, and that night both their boats were driven ashore by a violent
storm.
Two or three days were occupied repairing damages, and then they made the
mainland and obtained a supply of fresh water.
They landed near the mouth of a river, which, however, was dry above
tidal influence, and Grey christened it the Gascoyne. After a short
examination of the surrounding country, they pulled up the coast to the
north, and effecting a landing one night, both boats were swamped, to the
great damage of their already spoiled provisions. Here Grey ascended a
hill to look upon the surrounding country, and was so deceived by the
mirage, that he believed he had discovered a great lake studded with
islands; in company with three of his men he started on a weary tramp
after the constantly shifting vision, needless to say without reaching
it. Returning to the boats they found themselves prisoners for a time,
until the wind dropped and the surf abated a little, and here they had to
remain for a week sick, hungry and weary, and at one time threatened and
attacked by the blacks. At last a slight cessation in the gale tempted
them, and they got the boats out and made for the mouth of the Gascoyne,
where they refilled their water breakers. On March 20th, they made an
effort to fetch their depôt on Bernier Island in the teeth of the foul
weather, and reached it to find that during their absence a hurricane had
swept the island, and their hoarded stores were scattered to the winds.
Their position was now nearly desperate, the southerly winds had set in,
they had a surf-beaten shore to coast along, and no food of any sort
worth mentioning, added to which, as may be well supposed, they were all
weak and exhausted.
There was nothing for it, however, but to put out to sea again, and they
managed to reach Gautheaume Bay on the 31st of March; in attempting a
landing, the boat Grey was in was dashed on a rock, and the other boat
too received such great damage that it was impossible to repair either of
them. Nothing was now left, but to walk to Perth, and so wearied had the
men become of fighting with the wind and sea, that they even welcomed
this hazardous prospect as a change. They were about three hundred miles
from the Swan River and had twenty pounds of damaged flour, and one pound
of salt pork per man, to carry them there.
Soon after starting, a diversity of opinion sprang up about the best mode
of progressing. Grey wished to get over as much ground as possible while
their strength held out; most of the men, however, were in favour of
proceeding slowly, taking constant rests. This feeling increased so much
that, when within two hundred miles of Perth, Grey found it necessary to
take with him some picked men, and push on, leaving the others to follow
at their leisure. He reached Perth after terrible suffering and
privation, and a relief party was at once sent out, but they only found
one man, who had left the others, thinking they were travelling too slow.
Meanwhile, Walker, the second in charge, had come into Perth, and related
that, being the strongest, he had pushed on in order to get relief sent
back to the remainder. Another party, under Surveyor-General Roe, left in
search, and after some trouble in tracking the erratic wanderings of the
unfortunates, came upon them hopelessly gazing at a point of rocks, that
stopped their march along the beach, not having sufficient strength left
to climb it. They had been then three days without any water but sea
water, and a revolting substitute, which they still had in their
canteens. Poor young Smith, a lad of eighteen was dead. [ See Appendix.]
He had lain down and died two days before they were found. He was buried
in the wilderness.
During these two expeditions Grey had faced death in every shape, and
shown great powers of endurance, but the results of all his toil were but
meagre, and of no very great importance. He had crossed and named the
rivers running into the west coast, between where he abandoned his boats
and the Moore River, but in the state he was in he knew little more than
the fact that they were there, having neither strength nor resources to
follow them up and determine their courses. Grey claims the discovery of
the Gascoyne, Murchison, Hutt, Bower, Buller, Chapman, Greenough, Irwin,
Arrowsmith, and Smith Rivers. This disastrous journey may be said to have
concluded his services to Australia as an explorer, although he
afterwards, when Governor of South Australia, made an excursion to the
south-east, but it was through comparatively stocked and well-known
country in the neighbourhood of the Glenelg and Mount Gambier. Before
being appointed Governor of South Australia, he was Acting Government
Resident at Albany, King George's Sound.
Grey's mishaps, and the straits to which he reduced his party by his
occasional want of forethought and precaution, show plainly that
enthusiasm, courage, and a generous spirit of self-sacrifice are not the
only requisites in an explorer, more important even, being the long
training and teaching of experience.
Grey had given a very glowing description of the fertile appearance of a
portion of the country he passed through, and some of the colonists were
eager to make use of such a promising district. The schooner CHAMPION was
therefore directed to examine the coast and see if any of the rivers had
navigable entrances. Mr. Moore, after whom the Moore River was named, was
on board of the vessel, but no entrance was effected, although the party
rather confirmed Grey's report. Captain Stokes, of the BEAGLE, however,
soon after made a thorough examination of this part of the coast, and his
report was so unfavourable that its immediate settlement was postponed.
It follows now, that the unexplored country west of the Darling being so
much sooner reached from Adelaide than from Sydney, the former town
became the point of departure from which, in future, the expeditions for
the interior started.
But the rush for country, and the constant influx of stock from the
mother colony, led to a series of petty explorations being continually
carried on throughout the rapidly-rising district south and east of the
Murray. Some of these were undertaken in quest of new runs, others in
order to find the best and shortest stock routes; and the record of most
of them is only preserved in the memoirs Of personal friends of the
pioneers.
Edward John Eyre, who afterwards made the celebrated journey to Western
Australia round the head of the Great Bight, began his bush experiences
in this way. Messrs. Hawdon, Gardiner and Bonney, also about the same
time, made various trips from New South Wales to Port Phillip, and from
thence to Adelaide, and many minor discoveries were the result of those
journeys. The he outflow and courses of rivers being determined, and the
speculations of their first discoveries corrected or confirmed; as
instance of this, may be mentioned the discovery of Lake Hindmarsh, which
receives the Wimmera, River, the course of which had puzzled Mitchell
when he discovered it in July, 1836.
Eyre left Port Phillip for Adelaide early in 1838. The usual course had
been to strike to the Murray, and then to follow that river down. He
intended to try a straighter route, and for a time did well; but, at
last, finding himself in a tract of dry country, across which he could
not take the cattle with safety, he determined to follow the Wimmera
north, thinking it would take him on to the banks of the Murray, and
would probably turn out to be the Lindsay junction of Sturt. From
Mitchell's furthest point he traced it some considerable distance to the
north-west, and at last found its termination in a large swampy lake,
which he named Lake Hindmarsh, after the first Governor of South
Australia. From this lake he found no outlet; so, leaving his cattle, and
taking with him two men, he made an effort to reach the Murray. But the
country was covered with an almost impenetrable scrub, and as there was
neither grass nor water for the horses, he was forced to turn back,
reaching his camp only after a weary tramp on foot, the horses having
died. According to Eyre's chart, they were within five and twenty miles
of the Murray when they turned back. Eyre was thus forced to retrace his
steps and make for the nearest available route to the Murray, and follow
that river down.
Bonney's trip from Portland Bay to Adelaide was about a year
subsequently. He pursued a more southerly and westerly course, and
managed to get through in safety, but experienced great hardships on the
way. One of a series of lakes or marshes was found, and named Lake
Hawdon.
At the end of November, 1839, Colonel Gawler, then Governor of South
Australia, made an excursion to the Murray, for the purpose of examining
the country around Lake Victoria, and to the westward of the great bend.
He was accompanied by Captain Sturt, then Surveyor-General of the
province. In the S.A. REGISTER of that date, the following paragraph
shows that by this time ladies had also taken up the task of exploration:
"His Excellency the Governor, accompanied by Miss Gawler and Captain and
Mrs. Sturt, left town on Friday last week on an excursion to the Murray
and the interior to the north of that river. The party is expected to be
absent several weeks."
It is to be presumed that Miss Gawler and Mrs. Sturt accompanied the
party but a short distance; the Murray at that date affording anything
but a safe camping ground. This trip, of course, did not extend
sufficiently for any important geographical discoveries to be made, but
it was unfortunately marked by one of the fatalities that are bound to be
a feature of exploration. Leaving the river they penetrated into
waterless country, and the horses knocked up. Colonel Gawler and Mr.
Bryan pushed back on the freshest animals, intending to bring back water
for the others, but on the way Bryan gave in, and the Governor had to go
on alone. On coming back with relief Bryan was nowhere to be found, a
note was pinned to his coat, which was lying on the spot where he had
been left, stating that he had gone to the south-east, much exhausted;
but although all search was made he was never found.
Meantime, we have lost sight entirely of the north coast, and the
attempts at settlement in that quarter. The little BEAGLE had been
working industriously up there; but the account of her voyage belongs to
the history of maritime discovery, where it will be found; however, on
this occasion she visited a newly-formed, or rather twice-formed,
settlement, Port Essington. This station, after the visit by Captain
Bremer, was, it will be remembered, abandoned. In 1838, its former
founder, now Sir Gordon Bremer, resettled it, and the nucleus of a
township was formed. This time it seemed, at first, more likely to
thrive; but very little was done in the way of exploration, and its
existence added nothing to our knowledge of the northern interior. From
a letter of one of the officers of the Beagle we learn that:--
"A good substantial mole, overlooked by a small battery, with some
respectable-sized houses in the rear, gives the settlement rather an
imposing appearance from the water, which I imagine is the object at
present aimed at--to make an impression on the visiting Malays, the
success of the colony depending so much on them."
Apparently the dependence of the colony was misplaced as it is scarcely
necessary to tell the reader that it has long since passed out of
existence; we shall, however, have occasion to revisit it once before its
final abandonment.
The time had now come for the completion of the work commenced by Hume
and Hovell sixteen years before, namely, the full exploration of the
south-east corner of Australia.
In 1840, McMillan, the manager of a station near the Snowy Mountains, the
property of Messrs. Buckler and M'Allister, started on a search for
country in company with two companions, Messrs. Cameron and Mathew, one
stockman and a blackfellow. Making their way through the Snowy Mountains
to the southward, they found a river running through fine grazing
country, plains and forest, until its course brought them to a large
lake; here they were forced to turn westward, and although they made
several attempts to reach the coast they did not succeed, having
continually to turn back to the range to ford the numerous rivers they
kept coming to.
Having only a fortnight's provisions with them, they were forced to
return, when within about fifty miles of Wilson's Promontory. This fine
addition to the already known territory was called Gippsland, after Sir
George Gipps, the Governor who had the disagreeable eccentricity of
insisting that all the towns laid out during his term of office should
have no public squares included in their boundaries, as he was convinced
that public squares encouraged the spread of democracy.
The rivers discovered by McMillan were named by him, but afterwards
re-named by Count Strzelecki, whose titles were retained, whilst the
rightful ones bestowed by the real discoverer are forgotten.
Doubtless Strzelecki's names, such as the La Trobe, &c., had a ring more
pleasing to the official ear.
The celebrated count followed hard on McMillan's footsteps, in fact, the
latter met him before reaching home and directed him to the country he
had just left. McMillan, having his own interests to serve, said little
or nothing about the result of his journey, not wishing to be forestalled
in the occupation of the country. Strzelecki, not being interested in
squatting pursuits, made public the value of the province as soon as he
returned, which has led to his being often erroneously considered the
discoverer of Gippsland.
Strzelecki's trip through Gippsland, in 1840, was part of the work he was
undertaking to gather materials for his now well-known book, "The
Physical Description of New South Wales, Victoria, and Van Die-man's
Land." He mounted the Alps, and named one of the highest peaks
Kosciusko, from the fancied resemblance of its outline to the patriot's
tomb at Cracow. He then pushed his way through to Western Port, crossing
the fine rivers and rich country just found by McMillan. They had to
abandon their horses and packs during the latter part of the journey, and
fight their way through a dense scrub on a scanty ration of one biscuit
and a slice of bacon per day. Here the count's exceeding hardihood stood
them in good stead; so weakened were his companions that it was only by
constant encouragement he got them along, and when forcing their way
through the matted scrub, he often threw himself bodily on it, breaking a
bath through for his weakened followers by the sheer weight of his body.
They reached Western Port in a most wretched condition, having subsisted
latterly on nothing but native bears.
In 1841, a Mr. Orr landed at Corner Inlet and traversed part of the
country surveyed by Strzelecki; he traced the La Trobe and other rivers
into a large lake fifty miles from Wilson's Promontory, and confirmed the
glowing reports of the former travellers.
We have now to bid a final farewell to the garden of Australia, where the
explorers' steps trod the alleys of shady forests of gigantic trees, or
followed the bank of some living, sparkling stream, rippling and bubbling
over its pebbly bed, amid verdant meadows and fertile valleys. No more
was the outlook to be over smiling downs backed up by the fleecy-topped
Alps, a scene that told of nothing but peace, prosperity, and all the
riches of a bountiful soil. The way of the pioneer was, in future, to
lead to the north, where the earth refused to afford him pasture for his
animals, the clouds to drop rain, and the very trees gave no shade to
protect him from the sun in its noontide wrath. Over the lonely plains of
the interior, searching for the inland sea, never to be found; for the
lofty mountain chain, the backbone of Australia, that had no existence.
On the 5th of August, 1839, E. J. Eyre, and a party consisting of an
overseer, three men and two natives, left Port Lincoln, on the western
shore of Spencer's Gulf, on an excursion to examine the country to the
westward, as far as they could penetrate. Before this he had made an
expedition to the north of Adelaide terminating at Mount Arden, an
elevation to the N.N.E. of the head of Spencer's Gulf. From this mountain
he saw a depression which he took to be the bed of a lake, covered with
mud or sand, the future Lake Torrens.
On the 25th of August, after leaving Port Lincoln, he arrived at Streaky
Bay, not having crossed a single stream or river, nor even a chain of
ponds, during a distance of nearly three hundred miles. Three springs
only had been found, and the country was covered with the dreaded
EUCALYPTUS DUMOSA scrub (mallee), and the melancholy ti-tree. It must be
remembered, however, that Eyre's track bordered closely on the sea coast,
and the country would, as is usual in Australia, be of a barren and
inhospitable character. Westward of Streaky Bay the scrub still
continued, so a depôt was formed, and taking only a black boy with him,
he reached within about fifty miles of the western limit of South
Australia. In appearance the country was more elevated, but there was
neither water nor grass, and to return was necessary; in fact, before he
got back to the depôt, he nearly lost three of his horses.
From Streaky Bay he went east, to the head of Spencer's Gulf, finding the
country on his route a little better, but still devoid of water, the
party only getting through by means of the rain which luckily fell at the
time. On the 29th of September, he reached his old camp at Mount Arden.
Here he writes:--
"It was evident that what I had taken on my last journey to be the bed of
a dry lake now contained water, and was of a considerable size; but as my
time was very limited, and the lake at a considerable distance, I had to
forego my wish to visit it. I have, however, no doubt of its being salt,
from the nature of the country, and the fact of finding the water very
salt in one of the creeks draining into it from the hills. Beyond this
lake (which I distinguished with the name of Colonel Torrens), to the
westward, was a low, flat-topped range, extending northwesterly as far as
I could see."
From here Eyre pursued his old track homeward.
The objects that now excited the attention of the colonists of South
Australia were, discovery to the northward, as to the extent of the
newfound lake, and the nature of the interior; and the possibility of the
existence of a stock route to Western Australia. Eyre, however, after his
recent experience, was convinced that the transit of stock round the head
of the Great Bight was impracticable, the sterile nature of the country
and the absence of watercourses being against it. Such a journey it was
true might be most interesting, from a geographical point of view,
showing the character of the country intervening between the two
settlements, and unfolding the secrets hidden behind the lofty and
singular cliffs at the head of the Great Bight, but for more immediate
practical results, Eyre favoured the extension of discovery to the north.
This was then the course adopted; subscriptions were raised, Eyre himself
finding one-third of the horses and expenses, and the Government and
colonists the remainder. Meantime, it turned out that the country in the
immediate neighbourhood of Port Lincoln was not altogether of of the
wretched character met with by Eyre between Streaky Bay and the head of
the Gulf.
A Captain Hawson, in company with Mr. William Smith and three other
gentlemen, made an excursion for a short distance, and found well-grassed
country and abundance of water. Where they turned back they saw a fine
valley with a running stream through the centre. This valley they named
Rossitur Vale, and the stream the Mississippi, after Captain Rossitur, of
the French whaler MISSISSIPPI--the first foreign ship in Port Lincoln,
and the man who was afterwards destined to, afford such opportune aid and
succour to Eyre.
Western Australia, however, did not seem to entertain the prospect of
overland communication with Adelaide with any degree of enthusiasm. The
PERTH GAZETTE of that time, indulges in a short article, which reads
ludicrously like an extract from the EATANSWILL GAZETTE:--
"Overland from King George's Sound, we have received papers from
Adelaide, the mail having been obligingly conveyed by Dr. Harris. In
these papers we find the proposal to open a communication between this
and South Australia. The object, further than a general exploration of
the country, appears undefined; therefore, to us, it seems of little
interest, and the steady course of the country should not be disturbed by
such wild adventurers. What is South Australia to us? They have their
self-supporting system, they have revelled in MOONSHINE long enough; and
we ought not to be such fools as to be caught by a mere puffing document
appointing gentlemen here to co-operate with the South Australian
committee. If we wish to see them, we can soon find our way, and we
require no puffing advertisements from the neighbouring colony of
high-minded pretensions. We will not be licked by the dog that has bitten
us; and we must say that every honest mind should receive with caution
any approaches from such a quarter. We put this forward advisedly, and
with a desire that such a subject may be deliberately weighed and
considered. Their flummery about the existence of a jealous feeling is
discreditable to the minds inventing and prompting it for their own
private ends."
Evidently the editor of the Perth paper had had a bad time of it, for
further on we find him still more bitter against any communication being
opened up with the sister colony. It must he remembered that Western
Australia was a free colony, and consequently the bugbear of convict
contamination was one that was always raised when the subject of opening
up a stock route with the older colonies was on the board.
On the 18th June, 1840, Eyre's preparations were ready, and he left
Adelaide after a breakfast at Government House, when Captain Sturt
presented him with a flag--the Union Jack--worked for the purpose by some
of the ladies of the colony.
It is unnecessary to follow him in detail to his former camp at Mount
Arden. He trusted that the range of hills he had called Flinders Range,
and which he had seen stretching to the north-east, would continue far
enough to take him out of the depressed country around Lake Torrens, and
in fact, as he says, form a stepping-stone into the interior. His party
was a small one for those days, consisting of six white men and two black
boys. They had with them three horse drays, and a small vessel called the
WATERWITCH, was sent to the head of the Gulf, with the heaviest portion
of their supplies.
On the arrival of this vessel, Eyre, with one black boy, made a short
trip to Lake Torrens, leaving the rest of the party to land the stores.
He started without any great hopes, and, consequently, was not much
disappointed when he found this outpost of the inland sea to be:--
" . . . the dry bed of a lake coated over with a crust of salt, forming
one unbroken sheet of pure white, and glittering brilliantly in the sun.
On stepping upon this I found that it yielded to the foot, and that below
the surface the bed of the lake consisted of a soft mud, and the further
we advanced to the westward the more boggy it got, so that at last it
became quite impossible to proceed, and I was obliged to return to the
outer margin of the lake without ascertaining whether there was water on
the surface of its bed further west or not."
At this point Lake Torrens appeared to be about fifteen or twenty miles
across, having high land bounding it to the west.
The prospect, although half expected, was dismal in the extreme. There
was no chance of crossing the lake, and to follow its shore to the north
was impossible on account of the absence of grass and water, the very
rain water turning salt after lying a short time on the saline ground.
The only chance was in Flinder's Range supplying them with a little feed
and rain water in its ravines, so to this range he struck.
It was a cheerless outlook. On one side was an impracticable lake of
combined mud and salt; in another a desert of bare and barren plains; and
on a third, a range of inhospitable rocks.
"The very stones lying upon the hills looked like the scorched and
withered scoria of a volcanic region, and even the natives, judging from
the specimen I had seen to-day, partook of the general misery and
wretchedness of the place."
Eyre steered for the most distant point of the northern range, which on
arrival he christened Mount Deception, as he had hoped from its
appearance that he would find water there, but in this he was deceived.
Subsisting as best they could on rain puddles on the plains, they at last
found a tolerably permanent hole in a small creek, and then returned to
the party at the head of the Gulf.
Arrived at the depôt, the cutter returned to Adelaide with dispatches,
and the provisions having been concealed, the whole party made for the
pool of water that Eyre and the boy had discovered. From here the leader
and the native boy made another fruitless trip to the north-west, and
although they at times discovered a few creeks with a fair amount of
water in them, the 2nd of September found Eyre on the top of a small
hill, that he appropriately named Mount Hopeless, gazing at the
mysterious lake that, as he thought, hemmed him in on three sides, even
to the east. There was no prospect visible of getting across this bed of
mud and mirage, nothing to do but leave the interior unvisited by this
route, and return to the Mount Arden depôt.
From the Mount Arden depôt he made his way down to Port Lincoln, having
finally decided to abandon his intended trip to the interior, and go
westward to King George's Sound, finding, perhaps, some outlet to the
north on the road.
He divided his party at the head of the Gulf, sending the overseer with
most of the stores and men straight across to Streaky Bay, where he
formerly bad made a depôt. At Port Lincoln he could not obtain the
supplies he wanted without sending to Adelaide; so he was, therefore,
detained some time, and on the 24th of October started for Streaky Bay,
the Governor having placed the WATERWITCH at his disposal for use in
South Australian waters. At Streaky Bay he rejoined his overseer, who had
got across the desert safely, and was anxiously expecting him. Making
another rendezvous with the cutter at Fowler's Bay, they separated to
meet again on the 20th of November.
Leaving his party encamped at Fowler's Bay, Eyre, with one native boy,
made an attempt to round the Bight, or rather to ascertain what chance he
had of taking his party round. He went two days' journey, and finding
neither grass nor water for his horses, had to return to his camp. On the
28th he made another attempt, taking with him a dray carrying seventy
gallons of water; and on the 30th they fell in with some natives, whom
they thought to induce to guide them to water; but the blacks made them
understand that there was none ahead, and so Eyre found to his cost, for,
still trying to discover some he reduced his horses so that it was only
with the greatest difficulty, and after the loss of three of the best of
them, that the party struggled back to some sandhills, where they could
obtain a little brackish water by digging; and on the 16th, having had to
send back for assistance, the explorers re-assembled at Fowler's Bay,
having done no good, and lost three valuable horses. The cutter, still in
attendance, was sent back to Adelaide for a supply of oats and bran, and
also to take back two of the men, for Eyre had determined to reduce the
number of his people, awed by the nature of the country he had met with
ahead.
Tired out with the monotony of camp life, after the departure of the
cutter, he decided on another attempt, although one would have thought
the suffering his horses had already gone through would have induced him
to give them a longer rest.
On the 30th December he left camp, and that evening reached the sandhills
where he had before obtained the brackish water. Next morning they found
some natives, who told them once again that there was no water ahead. On
the 2nd January he made an attempt to the north-west, undeterred by these
warnings, but only got fourteen miles when he had to send the horses
back, and on the 5th, making another effort from this point, only got on
another seven miles. Sending the dray and horses back, Eyre, with one
white man and the black boy, went on, having buried some casks of water
against their return. A terribly hot day set in, which so completely
exhausted the whole party, that they had to encamp on the sea shore until
night fell. The next morning he sent the man back, and pushing ahead came
upon some natives digging in the sand, and with their aid watered the
horses. They also showed them some more water further on, and accompanied
them to it. Beyond this point, they said, there was no water for a ten
days' journey.
Eyre rode on some distance, and having ascertained all he could of the
nature of the country at the head of the Bight, which he had by this time
passed, he returned to the party, and they all shifted back to the old
depôt, at Fowler's Bay, on the 20th January.
On the 25th the HERO, cutter, arrived (the WATERWITCH having sprung a
leak), but her charter did not extend beyond the boundary of South
Australia, so that Eyre was unable to use her to carry his heavy stores
any further.
Under the circumstances he resolved to send nearly the whole of his party
back by the vessel, and push his way through to King George's Sound, or
perish.
In arriving at this determination, Eyre was evidently actuated by a sense
of such keen disappointment, at being baffled both to the north and the
west, that he could not bear the thought of returning to Adelaide a
beaten man. Whilst one can give a meed of admiration to the obstinate
courage that characterised this resolution, we are also astonished at his
persistence in a course that, whilst inevitably entailing the greatest
possible suffering on men and horses, could lead to no good nor useful
result. With his small party and equipment it would at best be only a
struggle for life round the coast, giving no more information than had
been acquired by the marine surveys. Even the wild attempts of Grey look
comparatively reasonable beside this march of Eyre's, Had he had any
object in view beyond the one of being the first white man to cross the
desert between the two colonies, his actions might have been excusable,
but as it was, his trip was bound to be profitless and resultless.
On the 31st January the cutter departed, and Eyre, the overseer, Baxter,
and three native boys, one having come by the HERO, were left alone to
face the eight hundred miles of desert solitude before them.
On the 24th, after a long spell, when they were about to start, the HERO
returned, bringing a request to Mr. Eyre to abandon his mad attempt and
embark himself and party on board the cutter. This he refused to do, and
on the 25th made another departure. After passing the water where they
had met the natives, they entered upon a dry and desolate tract over
which they crossed in safety, but with great suffering. Once more
relieved by a native well in the sandy beach, they pushed on, only to
encounter evil fortune; horse after horse knocked up, and it was after
six days' travelling they managed to get water once more, by digging in
the sand.
They were now about six hundred miles from King George's Sound and in a
most unenviable position, with the prospect of another one hundred mile
stage without water, and the full knowledge that retreat was impossible.
Their horses, in consequence of the repeated sufferings from thirst that
they had been forced to undergo, were so spiritless and reduced that they
could travel scarcely any distance without giving in, and yet the worst
was to come. For some time the black boys had been very sullen and
discontented, the constant hardships and fatigue, added to what they
well-knew lay before them, told upon their spirits. Once they ran away,
but hunger forced them to return; even the scanty fare at the camp was
better than the slow starvation of the bush. The overseer, too, was
afflicted with low spirits, and impressed by the forbidding character of
their surroundings. Poor fellow, some foreboding of his fate hung over
him.
The toil that had to be gone through may be conceived by the following
short extract from Eyre's diary on March 11th, just after accomplishing
their first terrible stage after leaving the depôt:--
"At night the whole party were, by God's blessing, once more together and
in safety, after having passed over one hundred and thirty-five miles of
desert country, without a drop of water in its whole extent, and at a
season of the year the most unfavourable for such an undertaking. In
accomplishing this distance, the sheep had been six and the horses five
days without water, and both had been almost wholly without food for the
greater part of the time. The little grass we found was so dry and
withered that the parched and thirsty animals could not eat it after the
second day."
From this camp Eyre started in the hope of shortly coming to a second
supply of water that the natives had told him of, and lured on by this
idea, he got forty miles from his camp without having made the provision
that he should have done before entering on a very long stage. Coming to
the conclusion that he must have passed the water, he decided to send the
horses back to the last camp for a fresh supply before venturing further
on. At midnight the overseer and the natives started back, leaving Eyre
to mind the baggage with the scanty allowance of six pints of water to
last him for six days until their return. On the 26th of March they again
started, and at night reduced their baggage still more in the hope of
getting the tired horses through; and the next day everything was
abandoned, for still there was no prospect of water ahead.
On the night of the 29th the last drop of water that they had with them
was consumed, and the next morning water was obtained by digging in the
sand drift--their seventh day out, after travelling, by Eyre's
computation, one hundred and sixty miles. It was not until the 27th of
April that they left the camp, to enter on the last fearful push that was
to decide their fate--and did too well decide the fate of three.
Once more the line of cliffs that had for a time been broken by the
sandhills faced the ocean, and from experience Eyre knew well that he
might expect no relief when travelling along their summits.
On the evening of the 29th, the third night from their last camp, Eyre
took the first watch to look after the horses, as this was necessary
every night to prevent them rambling too far.
The night was cold, the wind blowing hard, and across the face of the
moon the scud kept rapidly driving. The horses wandered a good deal, and
kept separating in the scrub, giving the lonely man much trouble to keep
them together, and when his watch was nearly up he headed them for the
camp, intending to call the overseer to relieve him, Suddenly the
stillness of the desert was broken by the report of a gun.
Eyre was not at first alarmed, thinking it a signal of Baxter's to show
him the position of the camp; he called out in reply, but no answer was
returned; and, hastening in the direction, was met by one of the boys
running towards him crying, "Oh massa, oh massa, come here!" but beyond
that could not speak for terror.
Eyre was soon at the camp, and a glance told him that he was now indeed
alone. Baxter, wounded to death, was lying on the ground in his last
agony, and as Eyre raised his faithful companion, then in the convulsion
of death, the frightful and appalling truth burst upon him in its full
horror.
"At the dead hour of night, in the wildest and most inhospitable waste of
Australia, with the fierce wind raging in unison with the scene of
violence before me, I was left with a single native, whose fidelity I
could not rely upon, and who, for aught I knew, might be in league with
the other two, who, perhaps were, even now, lurking about to take my
life, as they had done that of the overseer. Three days had passed away
since we left the last water, and it was very doubtful when we might find
any more. Six hundred miles of country had to be traversed before I could
hope to obtain the slightest aid or assistance of any kind, whilst I knew
not that a single drop of water, or an ounce of flour, had been left by
these murderers, from a stock that had previously, been so small."
On examining the camp, Eyre found that the two boys had carried off both
double-barrelled guns, all the baked bread, and other stores, and a keg
of water. All he had left was a rifle with a ball jammed in the barrel,
four gallons of water, forty pounds of flour, and a little tea and sugar.
When he had time to collect his thoughts, Eyre judged from the position
of the body, that Baxter must have been disturbed by the boys plundering
the camp, and getting up to stop them, had been immediately shot. His
next care was to put his rifle in serviceable condition, and then as
morning broke they hastened away from the fatal camp. It was impossible
even to bury the body of his murdered companion; one vast unbroken
surface of sheet rock extended for miles in every direction. Well might
Eyre exclaim:--
"Though years have now passed away since the enactment of this tragedy,
the dreadful horrors of that time and scene are recalled before me with
frightful vividness, and make me shudder even now when I think of them. A
lifetime was crowded into those few short hours, and death alone may blot
out the impressions they produced."
That evening the two murderers re-appeared in the scrub, following the
white man and boy. Eyre attempted to get close to them, but they would
not come near, remaining at a distance, calling out to the remaining boy
(Wylie), who, however, refused to go to them. Finding himself unable to
get to close quarters with them, Eyre proceeded on his journey, and the
two boys were never seen again, and, without doubt, they soon perished
miserably of hunger and thirst.
At last, after being again seven days without water for the horses, they
reached the end of the long line of cliffs, and amongst the sand dunes
came again to a native well, and got their poor tortured horses a drink.
Moving on now in easier stages, and getting water by digging at the foot
of the different sand hills he encountered, Eyre proceeded on with better
hopes for the future; he felt confident that he was past the great belt
of and country, and that with every day the travelling would improve.
On the 8th of May, another horse was killed, and a supply of meat dried
to carry with them.
From this point water was more frequently met with, a decided change for
the better took place in the face of the country, and the wretched horses
they still had left began to pick up a little. At last, when their
rations were quite exhausted, they sighted a ship at anchor in Thistle
Cove. She turned out to be the MISSISSIPPI, whaler, Captain Rossitur, and
once more Eyre had to thank fortune for relief at a critical moment.
For ten days he forgot his sufferings, and regained some of his lost
strength, under the hospitable care of Captain Rossitur, who, it will be
remembered, was the first foreigner to anchor in Port Lincoln.
Provided with fresh clothes and provisions, with his horses newly shod,
Eyre recommenced his pilgrimage, and arrived in King George's Sound on
July 8th. Having successfully crossed from Port Lincoln to King George's
Sound, with incredible suffering, not alone to himself, but also to his
men and horses, so far as they accompanied him; added to which, his
obstinate persistence, led to the death of Baxter, who, against his own
convictions, went on with him, rather than leave him in his need.
It is generally said with regard to this journey of Eyre's, that it any
rate established the fact that no considerable creek flowed from the
interior to the south coast. But this had been pretty well-known before
by the maritime surveys, for it must be borne in mind that this portion
of the Australian shore in no way resembles the general coast line of
Australia. Granted that numbers of the largest rivers in the continent
were overlooked by the navigators, we must also remember that the
conditions here were essentially different. No fringe of low mangrove
covered flats, studded with inlets and salt-water creeks, masking the
entrance of a river, was here to be found. A bold outline of barren
cliffs, or a clean-swept sandy shore, alone fronted the ocean, and
Flinders, constantly on the alert as he always was for anything
approaching an outlet or river mouth, would scarcely have missed one
here. As for any knowledge of the interior that was gained, of course
there was none, even the conjectures of a worn out, starving man, picking
his way painfully around the sea shore, would have scarcely been of much
value. Eyre has, however secured for himself a name for courage and
perseverance, under the most terrible circumstances that could well beset
a man, and this qualification leads us to overlook his errors of
judgment. The picture of the lonely man--not separated from his fellow
creatures by the sea, as has often been the case, but by countless miles
of weary, untrodden waste, in his plundered camp, beside his murdered
companion--is one that for peculiar horror, can never be surpassed.
Eyre was warmly welcomed on his return to Adelaide, and he was
subsequently appointed police magistrate on the Murray, where his
experience and knowledge of the natives was of great service. When Sturt
started on his memorable trip to the central desert, he accompanied him
for a long distance; but his active nature found vent in other fields
than those of exploration in future.
Eyre was a man who was thoroughly distinguished by his love for the
aborigines. In after life he was appointed their protector on the Murray,
at the time when the continual skirmishes between the natives and the
overlanders used to be a matter of almost daily occurrence.
The courage that he had exemplified, and his wonderful march round the
Great Bight, was brought into force again and again, in efforts to keep
peace between the rival races. The blacks of the Murray Bend were always
notable for their warlike character, and Eyre was the most fitting man
that could have been selected for the post.