Woodforde, and Wall, and nine horses, to follow a native track, which is
leading to the westward. At 9.20 made the track; its course,
west-north-west. At twenty-eight miles camped without water. The track
led us into very thick wood and scrub, and at five miles became
invisible. I still continued on the same bearing through the scrub. We
have again met with the mulga--a little different from what we have seen
before, growing very straight, from thirty to forty feet high, the bark
stringy, the leaf much larger and thicker. Amongst it is the hedge-tree.
We had seven miles of it very dense, when we again met with an open
plain. At three miles entered another dense wood and scrub, like that
passed through in the morning. To-day's journey has been over plains of
grass, through forest and scrub, without water. In the last five miles we
passed through a little spinifex, and the soil is becoming sandy. Wind,
south.
Thursday, 30th May, Sturt Plains. As I can see no hope of water, I will
leave Woodforde and Wall with the horses, take Thring with me, and
proceed ten miles, to see if there will be a change in that distance.
Went into a terrible thick wood and scrub for eleven miles and a half,
without the least sign of a change--the scrub, in fact, becoming more
dense; it is scarcely penetrable. I sent Thring up one of the tallest
trees. Nothing to be seen but a fearfully dense wood and scrub all round.
Again I am forced to retreat through want of water. The last five miles
of the eleven the soil is becoming very sandy, with spinifex and a little
grass. It is impossible to say in which way the country dips, for, in
forty-five miles travelled over, we have not seen the least sign of a
watershed, it is so level. Returned to where I left the others, followed
our tracks back, and at eleven miles camped. Horses nearly done up with
heavy travelling and the heat of the sun, which is excessive. It is very
vexing and dispiriting to be forced back with only a little more than one
hundred miles between Mr. Gregory's last camp on the Camfield and me. If
I could have found water near the end of this journey, I think I could
have forced the rest. It is very galling to be turned back after trying
so many times. Wind, east.
Friday, 31st May, Sturt Plains. Not having sufficient tethers for all the
horses, we had to short hobble two, and tie their heads to their hobbles;
and, in the morning, they were gone. I suppose they must have broken
their hobbles or fastenings; they will most likely make on to our outward
tracks. I have sent Thring and Woodforde to follow them up, while Wall
and I, with the other horses, proceed on our way to the camp. In two
hours they made the tracks before us, and I then pushed on as hard as I
could get the horses to go; being very anxious about the safety of the
party--for, on the first day that I left them, at about seven miles, we
passed fourteen or fifteen natives going in the direction of their camp;
I also observed, this morning, that they had been running our tracks both
backwards and forwards. At three o'clock we arrived, and found all safe;
they have not been visited by them, although I observed the prints of
their feet in our tracks, a short distance from the camp. It was as much
as some of our horses could do to reach the camp. The day has been
excessively hot; wind from north-north-east, with clouds. Latitude, 17
degrees 7 minutes.
Saturday, 1st June, Chain of Ponds. I must rest the horses to-day and
to-morrow, for they look very miserable; our longitude is 133 degrees 40
minutes 45 seconds. Before leaving the Ponds I shall try once more to the
westward--starting from a point three miles west of my first camp on
them. To try from this, for the Gulf of Carpentaria, I believe to be
hopeless, for the plain seems to be without end and without water. If I
could see the least sign of a hill, or hope of finding water, I would try
it; but there is none--if there is a passage it must be to the south of
this. Wind variable, with clouds.
Sunday, 2nd June, Chain of Ponds. The day has again been very hot. Wind
variable.
Monday, 3rd June, Chain of Ponds. Started back to the commencement of the
Chain of Ponds, and camped. During the day the sky has been overcast with
heavy clouds. Wind, south-east.
Tuesday, 4th June, Chain of Ponds. Last night one of the horses was
drowned in going down to drink at the water hole. He went into a boggy
place, got his hind foot fastened in his hobbles, from which he could not
extricate himself, and was drowned before we could save him. This is
another great loss, for he was a good pack-horse, and was one that I
intended taking on my next trip to the westward. At about 8 p.m. it began
to rain, and continued the whole night, coming from the east and
east-south-east. It still continues without any sign of a break. The
ground has become so soft that when walking we sink up to the ankle, and
the horses can scarcely move in it. At sundown there is no appearance of
a change. It has rained without intermission the whole of last night and
to-day. I do not know what effect this will have on my further progress,
for now it is impossible to travel. The horses in feeding are already
sinking above their knees. Wind and rain from east and east-south-east.
Wednesday, 5th June, Chain of Ponds. There is a little sign of a break in
the clouds this morning. The rain has continued the whole night. Ground
very soft; it has become about the thickness of cream. The horses can
scarcely get about to feed. Sundown: It has been showery all day; sky
overcast; clouds and rain from same direction, south-east. In the
afternoon some natives made their appearance at about six hundred yards'
distance. As the rain had damped the cartridges I caused the rifles to be
fired off in that direction; and, as the bullets struck the trees close
to them they thought it best to retreat as fast as possible, yelling as
they went.
Thursday, 6th June, Chain of Ponds. During the night it has been stormy,
with showers of rain, and is still the same this morning. Sundown: Still
stormy, with a few drops of rain. Wind, east.
Friday, 7th June, Chain of Ponds. During the night the rain ceased, and
this morning is quite bright. Ground so soft that it is impossible to
travel. Latitude, 17 degrees 35 minutes 25 seconds. Sent Thring some
miles to the west, to see in what state the country is, if fit for us to
proceed, and if he can see any water that I could move the party to, for
I do not like this place. If more rain falls it will lock us in all
together--neither do I like leaving the party with so many natives about.
At one o'clock he returned. The ground was so heavy that he had to turn
at five miles. He could see no water, but a number of native tracks going
to and coming from the west. I shall be obliged to leave the party here,
and on Monday try another trip to the west. If I find water I shall
return and take them to it. The day has been clear, but at sundown it is
again cloudy. Clouds from north-west. Wind from east.
Saturday, 8th June, Chain of Ponds. This morning it has again cleared
off, and there is every appearance of fine weather. If it hold this way I
shall be able to travel on Monday. Sundown: A few clouds. Wind,
south-east.
Sunday, 9th June, Chain of Ponds. The day has again been fine. Wind,
still south-east.
Monday, 10th June, Chain of Ponds. Started at 7.55 a.m., course 275
degrees, with Thring, Woodforde, and Wall, nine horses, and fourteen
days' provisions. The first five miles were over a grassy plain, with
stunted gum and other trees. It was very soft, the horses sinking up to
their knees. We met with a little rain water at three miles, where the
soil became sandy; continued to be more so as we advanced, with lancewood
and other scrubs growing upon it. At fourteen miles gained the top of a
sand rise, which seems to be the termination of the sand hills that I
turned back from on my west course south of this. From here the country
seems to be a dense forest and scrub; no rising ground visible. Camped at
5 p.m., distance thirty-two miles. The whole journey from the sand hills
has been through a dense forest of scrubs of all kinds--hedge-tree, gum,
mulga, lancewood, etc. We have had great difficulty in forcing the horses
through it so far; they are very tired. It is the thickest scrub I have
yet been in. Ground very soft; heavy travelling, with the exception of
the last five miles, where little rain seems to have fallen. I am afraid
this will be another hopeless journey. I fully expected to have got water
to-night from the recent rains, but there is not a drop. The country is
such that the surface cannot retain it, were it to fall in much larger
quantities. I shall try a little further on to-morrow. I had a hole dug,
to see if any rain had fallen, and found that it had penetrated two feet
below the surface, below which it is quite dry. Wind, east.
Tuesday, 11th June, Dense Forest and Scrub. Leaving Woodforde, Wall, and
the pack-horses, I took Thring with me, and proceeded on the same course
to see if I could get through the horrid forest and scrub, or meet with a
change of country, or find some water. At two miles we came upon some
grass again, which continued, and at another mile the forest became much
more open and splendidly grassed, which again revived my sinking hopes;
but alas, it only lasted about two miles, when we again entered the
forest thicker than ever. At eleven miles it became so dense that it was
nearly impenetrable. The horses would not face it; when forced, they made
a rush through, tearing everything we had on, and wounding us severely by
running against the dead timber (which was as sharp as a lancet) and
through the branches. I saw that it was hopeless to force through any
further. Not a drop of water have we seen, although the ground is quite
moist--the horses sinking above the fetlock. The soil is red and sandy;
the mulga from thirty to forty feet high and very straight; the bark has
a stringy appearance. There is a great quantity of it lying dead on the
ground, which causes travelling to become very difficult. I therefore
returned to where I left Woodforde and Wall, and came back ten miles on
yesterday's journey, and camped. This morning, about 5.30, we observed a
comet bearing 110 degrees; length of tail, 10 degrees, and 10 degrees
above the horizon. Wind, south-east.
Wednesday, 12th June, Western Dense Forest and Scrub. Proceeded to camp
and found all well. This is the third long journey by which I have tried
to make the Victoria in this latitude, but have been driven back every
time by the same description of country and the want of water. There is
not the least appearance of rising ground, or a change in the
country--nothing but the same dismal, dreary forest throughout; it may in
all probability continue to Mr. Gregory's last camp on the Camfield. My
farthest point has been within a hundred miles of it. I would have
proceeded further, but my horses are unable to do it; they look as if
they had done a month's excessive work, from their feet being so dry, the
forest so thick, and the want of water. Thus end my hopes of reaching the
Victoria in this latitude, which is a very great disappointment. I should
have dug wells if my party had been larger, and I had had the means of
conveying water to those engaged in sinking the wells. I think I could
accomplish it in that way; but by doing so, I should have to divide the
party into three, (one sinking, one carrying water, and one at the camp),
which would be too small a number where the natives appear to be so
hostile. I have not the least doubt that water could be obtained at a
moderate depth, near the end of my journeys, amongst the long thick
timber, which seems to be the lowest part of the country. I had no idea
of meeting with such an impediment as the plains and heavy scrub have
proved to be. For a telegraphic communication I should think that three
or four wells would overcome this difficulty and the want of water, and
the forest could be penetrated by cutting a line through and burning it.
In all probability there is water to be found nearer than this in the
Camfield, Mr. Gregory's last camp, somewhere about its sources, which
might be thirty miles nearer. Wind, south-east. Country drying up very
fast.
Thursday, 13th June, Chain of Ponds. To-day I shall move the camp to the
easternmost part of Newcastle Water, and now that rain has come from the
east, I shall try if I can cross Sturt Plains, and endeavour to reach the
Gulf of Carpentaria. My provisions are now getting very short. We are
reduced to four pounds of flour and one pound of dried meat per man per
week, which is beginning to show the effects of starvation upon some of
them; but I can leave nothing untried where there is the least shadow of
a chance of gaining the desired object. Started at 9.40 a.m. At three
miles and a half passed our first camp of Newcastle Water. At eight miles
and a half camped at the last water to the eastward. The ground is firmer
than I expected, travelling good. The large part of the water is reduced
two inches since 24th ultimo. The late rains seem to have no effect on
it. Wind, south-east.
Friday, 14th June, East End of Newcastle Water. Started with Thring,
Woodforde, and Wall, with one month's provisions and ten horses, at 7.45
a.m.; course, 60 degrees. At two miles crossed our former tracks, on the
top of the sandy table land, and after leaving it we again got on the
open plains, black alluvial soil, covered with grass, with deep holes and
cracks into which the horses were continually falling on their noses, and
running the risk of breaking our necks. These plains have swallowed up
every drop of rain that has fallen. The extent of the plain is seven
miles. We then entered a thick wooded country, of the same description as
the western forest, being equally thick, if not thicker, and as difficult
to penetrate. This continued for thirteen miles, when we met with another
small plain about half a mile wide, but opening out wider to north-west
and south. Not a drop of water have we seen since leaving Newcastle
Water, a distance of about thirty miles, except a little rain water about
three miles east of it. The plains are quite dry, scarcely showing that
rain has fallen. Camped. The horses have had a hard day's work and are
very tired. I wish I could have found water for them to-night. Latitude,
17 degrees 26 minutes 20 seconds. Wind, south-east.
Saturday 15th June, North-east Small Plains, Sturt Plains. Started at
7.30 a.m.; course, 60 degrees, through another ten miles of very thick
forest, the thickest we have yet seen. At eleven miles came again upon
the large open grassy plain, at the point where I turned on the 21st
ultimo. I expected to have found some rain water here, this being the
only place in all the plain I have seen that is likely to retain it. Sent
Thring and Woodforde in different directions, while I proceeded in
another, to see if we could find any, but not a drop could we see. It has
been all swallowed up by the ground, which is again dry and dusty. It
must take an immense quantity to saturate it, and leave any on the
surface; and if that were to be the case, the country would become so
soft it would be quite impassable. I am again forced to turn; it is quite
hopeless to attempt it any farther. It would be sacrificing our horses,
and, perhaps, our own lives, without the least prospect of attaining our
end. If I could see rising ground, however small, or a change in the
country to justify my risking everything, I would do so in a moment. I
only wish there was. I have tried my horses to their utmost. Even my old
horses that are inured to hardship are unable to be longer than three
days without water, owing to the heat of the sun, the dryness of the
feed, and the softness of the country. We saw a few cockatoos and
pigeons. There might be water within a short distance, but none can we
see or find; for on my course 20 degrees west of north I passed within
two miles of Newcastle Water, where the main camp is now, but could not
see it. It would require a long time to examine this country for water.
There are so many clumps of trees, and strips of scrub on the plain,
where water might be, that it would take upwards of twelve months to
examine them all. At sundown camped fifteen miles from the main camp.
Horses look very bad. It has been very heavy travelling, over rotten
ground, and tearing through thick wood and scrub, which has skinned our
legs from the knees to the ankles and caused no little pain. Wind,
variable.
Sunday, 16th June, Sturt Plains East. Proceeded to the camp, where I
found all well. No natives had been near them. This is very disheartening
work. I shall proceed to the south, and try once more to round that
horrid thick western forest; it is now my only hope; if that fail I shall
have to return. I am doubtful of the water in Ashburton range, if no rain
has fallen there; those hills are the last of the rising ground within
range of vision, which ends in about latitude 17 degrees 14 minutes. From
south-south-east round the compass to south-south-west nothing but dense
forest and Sturt Plains. Wind, south-east.
Monday, 17th June, Newcastle Water East. Returned to the Lawson and
camped. Little rain seemed to have fallen there. I kept a little to west
of my former tracks to see the nature of the large open plain. It is
completely matted with grass, having large deep holes and cracks, and is
as dry as if no rain had fallen for months. Wind, south-east.
Tuesday, 18th June, Lawson Creek. Proceeded to Hunter Creek. Tracks of
natives upon ours to Hawker Creek. Light winds, variable.
Wednesday, 19th June, Hawker Creek. Although the water holes in this
creek are full from recent rains, the water is very hard, evidently
showing it must come from a spring in the hills. Proceeded to the Hunter
along the foot of the hills, and at nine miles crossed the large gum
creek, where I watered the horses on my north course; this I have named
Powell Creek, after J.W. Powell, Esquire, of Clare. At twenty miles
crossed another gum creek, which I have named Gleeson Creek, after E.B.
Gleeson, Esquire, J.P., of Clare. Camped on the Hunter. Between this and
Hawker Creek we crossed eleven gum creeks with water in them. The country
passed over is not so good, being close to the hills: it is scrubby, and
generally covered with spinifex. Wind, south-east.
Thursday, 20th June, Hunter Creek. Three horses missing; could not be
found until too late to reach the other water to-night. Wind, calm.
Friday, 21st June, Hunter Creek. Proceeded to the water under Mount
Primrose, over stony hills, the highest of which I have named Mount
Shillinglaw, after ---- Shillinglaw, Esquire, F.R.C.S., of Melbourne, who
kindly presented me with Flinders' Charts of North Australia. The gum
creek on which we are now camped I have named Carruthers Creek, after
John Carruthers, Esquire, of Adelaide. Calm.
Saturday, 22nd June, Carruthers Creek. Proceeded to Tomkinson Creek,
where I left the two horses; I will there rest the horses a day, and have
those shod which I intend to take with me. The last two days have been
over very stony country, which has made some of the horses quite lame. I
am now running short of shoes. We can see nothing of the two horses about
our old camp. Light wind from north-east, with a few clouds. Very hot in
the middle of the day; evenings and mornings cold.
Sunday, 23rd June, Tomkinson Creek. Sent Thring and Woodforde down the
creek, and Masters up into the open plain, to see if they could find the
horses on their tracks. In the afternoon they returned unsuccessful,
except Masters, who had seen their tracks when the ground was boggy.
Recent tracks of natives were also seen. If they have not been frightened
away, they will not be far off. I have instructed Sullivan to follow
their tracks, and try to find them during my absence. Wind, north-east,
with a few clouds. The sun is very hot in the middle of the day.
Monday, 24th June, Tomkinson Creek. Started with Thring, Masters, and
Lawrence, and ten horses, with fourteen days' provisions, at 7.40 a.m.;
course, 270 degrees east. We crossed the plain and the creek several
times. At 12.20, fifteen miles, ascended a stony rise, and saw that the
creek emptied itself into an open grassy plain, about two miles north of
us. Proceeded on the same course over a gum plain covered with grass for
five miles. The country then became sandy soil, slightly undulating, with
ironstone, gravel, spinifex, gums, and occasionally a little scrub, which
continued throughout the day. Camped without water. Very little feed for
the horses, it being nearly all spinifex. Distance, twenty-eight miles.
Wind, west; a few clouds.
Tuesday, 25th June, Spinifex and Gum Plain West. Started at 7.40 a.m. on
the same course, 270 degrees. Camped at twenty-seven miles. The country
travelled through to-day is bad--red sandy light soil, covered with
spinifex, slightly undulating, and having iron gravel upon it. Scarcely a
blade of grass to be seen. Some gum-trees, and a low scrub of different
sorts. I seem to have got to the south of the dense forest, but into a
poorer country. Not a drop of water or a watercourse have we seen since
we left Tomkinson Creek. We have crossed two or three low rises of
ironstone gravel. Not having the dense forest to tear through has induced
me to go on all day in the hope of meeting with a change, but at the end
of the day there seems as little likelihood as when we first came upon
it, and it may continue to the river. I am again forced to return
disappointed. There is no hope of making the river now; it must be done
from Newcastle Water with wells. I wish that I had twelve months'
provisions and convenience for carrying water, I should then be enabled
to do it. Wind, east.
Wednesday, 26th June, Spinifex and Gum Plain. Started at 7 a.m. back
towards Tomkinson Creek. At dusk found some water on the small plain into
which the creek empties itself. Camped. Distance travelled to-day, forty
miles. One of the horses completely done up. I am fortunate in finding
this water, for another night without it and I should have lost some of
them. I am also glad we had a cool day--only two hours' heat. The horses
have travelled one hundred miles without water, and the country being
sandy, made it very heavy walking for them. Wind, east.
Thursday, 27th June, Tomkinson Creek. Started for the camp, and arrived
at noon. Sullivan had gone after the horses, and lost himself for three
days and two nights. Not making his appearance the first night, Kekwick
sent Woodforde in search of him from south-east to north. Not returning
the second night, Kekwick and Woodforde went out in another direction to
try if they could cut his tracks, but were again unsuccessful. At about 3
a.m. he came into the camp perfectly bewildered, and did not seem to
recognise anyone. From what we can learn from him he must have gone to
the south instead of the east, where the tracks of the two horses were
seen. On the first night he came close to the camp--saw the other horses
feeding, but could not find them. He can give no account of where he went
the next day and night; on the third day he cut my outward tracks to the
west, and the horse brought him to the camp. I observed his horse's
tracks upon ours this morning, about ten miles down the creek, and could
not imagine how they came there. Woodforde found the two horses he went
in search of within three miles of the camp--they had not left the creek.
The cream-coloured one had improved very much; but Reformer still looks
miserable--I think he must be ill. Wind, north, with a few clouds coming
from the same direction.
Friday, 28th June, Tomkinson Creek. Shoeing horses and preparing for
another start. I shall try once more to make the Gulf of Carpentaria from
this. There may be a chance of my being able to round Sturt Plains to the
east or north-east. Wind, varying from south-east to north.
Saturday, 29th June, Tomkinson Creek. Shoeing horses, etc. Wind,
south-east. Clouds all gone.
Sunday, 30th June, Tomkinson Creek. Wind, north-east.