Thring and Woodforde, and seven horses, following our tracks through the
rotten ground to the first eucalypti, for about twelve miles, as it made
it lighter for the horses, the tracks being beaten to that place. Changed
our course to 282 degrees, still journeying over Sturt Plains; at
twenty-seven miles arrived at the end of the portion of them that had
been subject to inundation, but there are still too many holes to be
pleasant. I certainly never did see a more splendid country for grass; in
many places for miles it is above the horses' knees. We entered upon red
sandy soil, with spinifex and grass, from which we changed our bearing.
The country became thickly studded with eucalypti, in one or two places
rather open, but generally thick. After the twenty-seven miles we again
met with the new small-leafed tree, the broad-leafed mallee, the
eucalypti, and many other scrubs. At sundown we camped; distance,
thirty-three miles, but not a drop of water have we seen the whole day,
or the least indication of its proximity. I hope to-morrow we may be more
fortunate, and find some. Wind, south.
Friday, 10th May, Sturt Plains. This morning there are a few birds about.
Started at 8.15 a.m., same course; at 10.30 arrived on first top of
rising ground seen from the camp of 7th instant, which turns out to be
red sand hills covered with thick scrub. Changed our course to
north-west, and at 11.15 arrived at the highest point; the view is very
discouraging--nothing to be seen all round but sand hills of the same
description, their course north-north-east, and south to west. No high
hills or range to be seen through the telescope. We can see a long
distance, apparently all sand hills with scrub and stunted gums on them.
The first ridge is about two hundred feet above Sturt Plains, but further
to the west they are much lower, and become seemingly red sandy
undulating table land; but further to the west they are much lower. There
is no hope of reaching the Victoria on this course. I would have gone on
further to-day had I seen the least chance of obtaining water to-night;
but during the greater part of yesterday and to-day we have met with no
birds that frequent country where water is. Both yesterday and to-day
have been excessively hot, and the country very heavy. From this point I
can see twenty-five miles without anything like a change. To go on now
with such a prospect, and such heavy country before me, would only be
sacrificing our horses and our own lives without a hope of success--the
horses having already come forty-five miles without a drop of water, and
over as heavy a country as was ever travelled on. I have therefore, with
reluctance, made up my mind to return to the camp and try it again
further north, where I may have a chance of rounding the sand hills; the
dip of them from here seems to be south-south-west. Turned back, and at
eighteen miles camped on Sturt Plains, where there is green grass for the
horses. Wind, south.
Saturday, 11th May, Sturt Plains. At dawn of day started for the camp;
arrived at 2 p.m. It was fortunate I did not go on further, for some of
the horses were scarcely able to reach it; a few more hours and I should
have lost half of them. The day has been so hot that it has nearly
knocked them all up. Found the rest of the party all right at the camp.
We had a job to keep the horses from injuring themselves by drinking too
much water. I gave them a little three separate times, tied them up for
twenty minutes, and then gave them a good drink, and drove them off to
feed. They took a few mouthfuls of grass, and were back again almost
immediately, and continued to do so nearly all the afternoon. They drank
an immense quantity. Wind, south.
Sunday, 12th May, Hawker Creek, Ashburton Range. My old horses that were
out with me before look very well this morning, but the others, whose
first trip of privation this has been, are looking very bad indeed. They
could not have gone another night without water; it has pulled them down
terribly. Yesterday, while Masters was looking for the horses, he saw
what appeared to him to be a piece of wood stuck upon a tree, about two
feet and a half long, sharp at both ends, broad at the bottom, and shaped
like a canoe. Having pulled it down, he found it to be hollow. On the top
of it were placed a number of pieces of bark, and the whole bound firmly
round with grass cord. He undid it, and found the skull and bones of a
child within. Mr. Kekwick brought it to me this morning for my
inspection. It certainly is the finest piece of workmanship I have ever
seen executed by natives. It is about twelve inches deep and ten wide,
tapering off at the ends. Small lines are cut along both sides of it. It
has been cut out of a solid piece of wood, with some sharp instrument. It
is exactly the model of a canoe. I told him to do it up again, and
replace it as it was found. If it is here when I return, I will endeavour
to take it to Adelaide with me. Wind, variable. A few clouds about.
Monday, 13th May, Hawker Creek, Ashburton Range. Started at 8 a.m.,
course 360 degrees. At five miles crossed the large gum-tree creek, with
water, that Thring found; proceeded along the side of Sturt Plains. At
ten miles ascended the north point of Ashburton range; descended, and the
country became red sand with spinifex, gum-tree, the new tree, and other
shrubs very thick; at fifteen miles, gained the top of another stony
rise; followed three creeks down in search of water; found a little, but
not sufficient for us; followed it still further down, leading us to the
south for about six miles, but could find no more. I thought it best to
return for water to the large creek, which I have named Ferguson Creek,
after Peter Ferguson, Esquire, of Gawler Town. From the top of the range
the view is limited. To the north and north-east are stony rises, at
about nine miles distant; from north to west are Sturt Plains, in some
places wooded; to the north they are open for a very long distance; the
country in the hills is bad, but in the plains is beautiful. I am afraid,
from the view I have of the country to the north, that I shall again meet
with the same description of sand hills that I came upon on my last
western course. Wind east-south-east, blowing strong. Latitude, 17
degrees 53 minutes 20 seconds.
Tuesday, 14th May, Ferguson Creek. Started at 8.30 a.m., on a north
course, to the place I turned back from yesterday; arrived at noon;
changed course to 345 degrees. Started again at 12.20. At 1 p.m. crossed
a gum creek that has the appearance of water. At 1.40 changed course to
260 degrees, and came upon two large water holes, apparently very deep,
situated in the rocks--they are seemingly permanent. Camped. I named this
creek Lawson Creek, after Dr. Lawson, J.P., of Port Lincoln. A number of
natives have been camped about them. We found another canoe, of the same
description as the one in which the bones of the child were found--it is
broken and burned, and seems to have been used as a vessel for holding
water. Wind south-east, blowing strong. Mornings and evenings very cold.
Latitude, 17 degrees 43 minutes 30 seconds.
Wednesday, 15th May, Lawson Creek. Started at 8.10 a.m.; went a mile west
to clear the stones; changed course to 340 degrees. At 2.45 p.m. changed
again to 45 degrees. Camped at 4.15. The first twelve miles is poor
country, being on the top of stony rises, with eucalypti, grass, and
scrubs. After descending from the rises, we crossed a wooded plain,
subject to inundation; no water. The trees are very thick indeed--they
are the eucalyptus, the Eucalyptus Dumosa, the small-leaved tree, another
small-leaved tree much resembling the hawthorn, spreading out into many
branches from the root; it rises to upwards of twenty feet in height. We
have also seen three other new shrubs, but there were no seeds on them.
After crossing the plain we got upon red sandy rises, very thick with
scrub and trees of the same description. We continued on this course
until 2.45 p.m.; then, as there is an open plain in sight, with rising
ground upon it to north-east, and as this scrubby ridge seems to
continue, without the least appearance of water, I have changed to
north-east. Crossed the plain, which is alluvial soil, covered with
grass, but very dry. At 4.15 camped on north-east side, without water. I
would have gone on to the rise, but I feel so ill that I am unable to sit
any longer in the saddle. I have been suffering for the last three days
from a severe pain in the chest. Wind, east. Latitude, 17 degrees 16
minutes 20 seconds.
Thursday, 16th May, Sturt Plains. Sent Thring to see if there is a creek
or a sign of water under the rise. At 8.20 a.m. he returned, having found
no water. It is a low sandy rise, covered with a dense scrub. Started at
8.20 a.m.; course, east. At three miles I was forced to return; the scrub
is so dense that it is impossible to get through. Came back two miles;
changed to 20 degrees west of south to get out of it. At two miles gained
the plain, then changed to the east of south at 10.45. At 2 p.m. there is
no hope of a creek or water. Changed to south-west. At two miles and a
half struck our tracks and proceeded to Lawson Creek. We found the open
parts of the plain black alluvial soil so rotten and cracked, that the
horses were sinking over their knees; this continued for six miles. It is
covered with long grass and polygonum; also a few eucalypti scattered
over it. The scrub we were compelled to return from was the thickest I
have ever had to contend with. The horses would not face it. They turned
about in every direction, and we were in danger of losing them. In two or
three yards they were quite out of sight. In the short distance we
penetrated it has torn our hands, faces, clothes, and, what is of more
consequence, our saddle-bags, all to pieces. It consists of scrub of
every kind, which is as thick as a hedge. Had we gone further into it we
should have lost everything off the horses. No signs of water. From south
to west, north and north-east nothing visible but Sturt Plains, with a
few sand rises having scrub on them, which terminate the spurs of the
stony rises. They are a complete barrier between me and the Victoria. I
should think that water could be easily obtained at a moderate depth in
many places on the plains. If I had plenty of provisions I would try to
make it by that way. The only course that I can now try is to the
north-east or east, to round the dense scrub and plains. At sundown
arrived at Lawson Creek. The horses, owing to the dryness of the grass,
drank a great quantity of water; they are falling off very much. Wind,
south-east.
Friday, 17th May, Sturt Plains. I must remain here to-day to mend
saddle-bags, etc. I have sent Thring to north-east to see if the stony
rises continue in that direction. He has returned and gives a very poor
account of the country. He crossed them in about six miles, and again
came upon the plain that we were on yesterday, extending from north-east
to south. Nothing but plains. To the north is the dense scrub, thus
forming a complete stop to further progress. From here I fear it is a
hopeless case either to reach Victoria or the Gulf. The plains and forest
are as great a barrier as if there had been an inland sea or a wall built
round. I shall rest the horses till Monday, and will then try a course to
the north-west, and another to north-east. I have not the least hope of
succeeding without wells, and I have not sufficient provisions to enable
me to remain and dig them. It is a great disappointment to be so near,
and yet through want of water to be unable to attain the desired end.
Wind, south-east.
Saturday, 18th May, Lawson Creek. Resting horses, etc. Wind, south-east.
Sunday, 19th May, Lawson Creek. Wind, south-east.
Monday, 20th May, Lawson Creek. Started at 7.25 a.m., course 45 degrees,
with Thring, Woodforde, and seven horses. The first four miles was over
the stony rises; the next three, sandy table-land, with spinifex,
eucalyptus, and scrub. Crossed part of Sturt Plains, open and covered
with grass. Five miles of it were very heavy travelling-ground, very
rotten, and full of holes and cracks. At about thirty miles camped on the
plains. We have seen no birds, nor any living thing, except kites and
numerous grasshoppers, which are in myriads on the plains. From this
place to the east, and as far as south-south-west, there is no rising
ground within range of vision--nothing but an immense open grassy plain.
The absence of birds proclaims it to be destitute of water. We have not
seen a drop, not a creek, nor a watercourse during the whole day's
journey. To-morrow I shall again try to get through the scrub. On leaving
the camp this morning, I instructed Kekwick to move the party about three
miles down the creek to another water hole, the feed not being good.
Wind, east.
Tuesday, 21st May, Sturt Plains, East. Started at 7.10 a.m. Passed
through a very thick scrub seven miles in extent. We again entered on
another portion of the open plains at ten miles from our last night's
camp. Nothing to be seen on the horizon all round but plains. Changed to
300 degrees, to where I saw some pigeons fly. At two miles came across
their feeding-ground; skirted the scrub until we cut our tracks. No
appearance of water. This is again a continuation of the open portion of
Sturt Plains; they appear to be of immense extent, with occasional strips
of dense forest and scrub. We had seven miles of it this morning as thick
as ever I went through; it has scratched and torn us all to pieces. At my
furthest on the open plain. I saw that it was hopeless to proceed, for
from the west to north, and round to south-south-west, there is nothing
to be seen but immense open plains covered with grass, subject to
inundation, having an occasional low bush upon them. I think with the aid
of the telescope I must have seen at least sixty miles; there is not the
least appearance of rising ground, watercourse, or smoke of natives in
any direction. The sun is extremely hot on the plain. Having no hope of
finding water this morning, I left Woodforde with the pack and spare
horses where we camped last night, as the heat and rough journey of
yesterday have tired them a great deal; so much so, that I fear some of
them will not be able to get back to water. Returned to where I had left
him, and followed our tracks back to the open plain. After sundown camped
among some scrub. Wind, south-east.
Wednesday, 22nd May, Sturt Plains. After sunset we saw a number of
turkeys flying towards the stony rises where our main camp is; they
appear to come from the north-west. Upwards of fifty passed over in twos
and threes; and this morning we observed them going back again. Two of
the horses which had been short hobbled walked off during the night,
following our tracks. Saddled and followed, overtaking them in three
miles and a half, standing under the shade of a tree. Unhobbled and drove
them on before us. At 12 o'clock arrived at Lawson Creek. Had great
difficulty in preventing the horses from drinking too much, and, as there
are other holes down the creek, I gave them a little at a time at each.
Found that Kekwick had moved with the party. Followed them, and at three
miles and a half west-south-west arrived at their camp, and allowed the
horses to drink as much as they chose. Poor brutes! they have had very
hard work, eighty miles over the heaviest country, under a burning sun,
without a drop of water. Three of them were those I had on my former
journeys; I could depend upon them; the rest were the best I could pick
from the other lot. They have all stood the journey very well, but could
not have done another day without water. Natives seem to have been about
this water lately, but we have not seen one since leaving our spitting
friend on the Hugh. Wind, east.
Thursday, 23rd May, Lawson Creek. Started 7.45 a.m., course 315 degrees,
with Thring, Woodforde, and seven fresh horses. At fourteen miles came
across a splendid reach of water, about one hundred and fifty yards wide,
but how long I do not know, as we could not see the end of it. It is a
splendid sheet of water, and is certainly the gem of Sturt Plains. I have
decided at once on returning, and bringing the party up to it, as it must
be carefully examined, for it may be the source of the Camfield, or some
river that may lead me through. On approaching it I saw a large flock of
pelicans, which leads me to think that there may be a lake in its
vicinity. There are mussels and periwinkles in it, and, judging from the
shells on the banks, the natives must consume a large quantity. The
gum-trees round it are not very large. The first ten miles of that part
of the plain travelled over to-day is full of large deep holes and
cracks, black alluvial soil covered with grass, with young gum-trees
thicker as we approached the water. This I have named Newcastle Water,
after his Grace the Duke of Newcastle, Secretary for the Colonies. Duck,
native companion, white crane, and sacred ibis abound here. Returned to
bring the party up to-morrow. Wind, south-east.
Friday, 24th May, Lawson Creek. Started at 8 a.m. for Newcastle Water;
arrived at noon. Camped. Sent Kekwick to north-east and Thring to west to
see the length of it; I have had the depth tried. It is about six feet
deep ten yards from the bank, and in the middle seventeen feet. I should
say it was permanent. Thring found it still the same at three miles west.
Kekwick returned after following it for four miles. At two miles there is
a break in it. At four miles it is more of a creek coming from
north-east. Gum-trees much larger. Woodforde succeeded in catching four
fish about ten inches long, something resembling the whiting. I had one
cooked for tea; the skin was as tough as a piece of leather, but the
inside was really good, as fine a fish as I have ever eaten. To-morrow I
shall follow the water to the west; its bed is limestone. Wind,
south-east, with a few clouds. Latitude, 17 degrees 36 minutes 40
seconds.
Saturday, 25th May, Newcastle Water, Sturt Plains. Started at 7.50 a.m.
and followed the water nine miles round. It still continued, but became a
chain of ponds. As I could see some rising ground north-north-east about
four miles distant, I camped the party and took Thring with me to see
what the country was before us. At four miles we found that the first
part of the rise was stony, but on the top it was sandy table-land,
covered with thick scrub. The view is obstructed to the east-north-east
to north by it; but to the north-west and west there is an appearance of
rising ground, thickly wooded, about twenty miles off. Wind, west.
Latitude, 17 degrees 30 minutes 30 seconds.
Sunday, 26th May, Newcastle Water, Sturt Plains. This morning we were
visited by seven natives, tall, powerfully-made fellows. At first they
seemed inclined for mischief, making all manner of gestures and shaking
their boomerangs, waddies, etc. We made friendly signs to them, inviting
them to come nearer; they gradually approached, and Kekwick and Lawrence
got quite close to them; in a short time they appeared to be quite
friendly. I felt alarmed for the safety of J. Woodforde (who had gone
down the water in search of ducks, and in the direction from which they
had come), and endeavoured to make them friends by giving them pieces of
handkerchiefs, etc. During the time we were talking with them I heard the
distant report of his gun; at the same time Thring and Masters returned
from collecting the horses that were missing. I told them to remain until
the natives were gone, as I wished to keep them as long as possible to
give Woodforde a chance of coming up before they left us; shortly
afterwards they went off apparently quite friendly. Sent Thring and Wall
to round up the horses which were close at hand, and while they were
doing so the natives again returned, running quite close up to the camp
and setting fire to the grass. It was now evident they meant mischief. I
think they must have seen or heard Woodforde, and have lit the grass in
order to engage our attention from him. I felt very much inclined to fire
upon them, but desisted, as I feared they would revenge themselves on him
in their retreat. They did very little injury by their fire, which we
succeeded in putting out. By signs I ordered them to be off, and after
much bother they left us, setting fire to the grass as they went along. I
now ordered Thring and Wall to go with all speed to protect Woodforde. In
about twenty minutes he came into the camp. After leaving us they had
attacked him, throwing several boomerangs and waddies at him; he had only
one barrel of his gun loaded with shot; they all spread out and
surrounded him, gradually approaching from all sides. One fellow got
within five yards of him, and was in the act of aiming his boomerang at
him. Seeing it was useless to withhold any longer, while the black was in
the act of throwing he gave him the contents of his gun in his face, and
made for the camp. In a short time Thring and Wall returned at full
speed; they had passed where he was, and hearing the report of his gun,
made for the place, overtook the blacks, gave chase and made them drop
the powder-flask and ducks (which Woodforde had laid down before firing
when they attacked him); knowing them to be his, they gave up the chase
to look for him, but seeing nothing of him, and two of the natives
supporting one apparently wounded, they returned to the camp, where they
saw him all safe, relating his adventure, his shot-belt still missing. I
sent Thring and him to look for it, and to bring up the missing horses
which they had seen. Wind variable. Cloudy.
Monday, 27th May, Newcastle Water, Sturt Plains. Started at 8.10 a.m.,
course 335 degrees. At 10.20 changed to north; at 1.20 p.m. changed to 90
degrees; and at one mile found water; gave the horses some, and proceeded
north-north-east; at 3.40 changed to 90 degrees to some gums: at one mile
and a half camped. The gums turn out to be thick wood. I went
north-north-west this morning, with the expectation of meeting with
water, or rather a chain of ponds; at four miles, I could see nothing of
them; and, as we were getting into a very thick scrub of lancewood, I
changed to north; and at ten miles on that course, still seeing nothing
of them, I changed to east; at one mile came upon them, found water, and
followed them; their course now, 20 degrees; at one mile found another
pond; in a short time, lost the bed of them in a thick wooded plain.
Found a native path running nearly in my course; followed it, thinking it
would lead me to some other water, but in a few miles it became
invisible. I continued on the same course for nine miles, and found
myself on Sturt Plains, with belts of thick wood and scrub; to the north,
nothing visible but open plains; to north-east, apparently thick wood or
scrub; to north-west and west, apparently scrubby sand hills. The ponds
seem to drain this portion of the plains. Changed to east, to what seemed
to be large gum-trees, thinking there might be a creek; arriving there, I
found them to be stunted gums on the edge of the plain. There is no hope
of succeeding in this quarter. Camped without water. Wind, east.
Latitude, 17 degrees 12 minutes 30 seconds.
Tuesday, 28th May, Sturt Plains, North. Fourteen of the horses missing
this morning before sunrise. From the highest tree nothing is to be seen
from east to north and north-west but immense open grassy plains, without
a tree on them; no hope of water. I must go back to the ponds and try
again to the westward. Did not find the horses until 9.30 a.m., and
started at 10. I observed very large flocks of pigeons coming in clouds
from the plains in every direction towards the ponds. Some time
afterwards we saw them coming back and flying away into the plains as far
as the eye can reach, apparently to feed. Arrived at the water at 1.30
p.m. Wind, east-north-east.