[Illustration. John Oxley. From a portrait in the possession of Mrs.
Oxley, of Bowral. The portrait was presented to Mrs. King, widow of
Governor King in 1810, and signed by him.]
3.1. GENERAL BIOGRAPHY.
Oxley was born in England in the early part of 1781. In his youth he
entered the navy, saw active service in many parts of the world, and rose
to the rank of Lieutenant. He came to Australia in January, 1812, and was
appointed Surveyor-General.
Throughout his career in Australia, Oxley would seem to have won the
friendship and respect of all he came in contact with. Captain Charles
Sturt, in the journal of his first expedition, wrote of him as follows:--
"A reflection arose to my mind, on examining these decaying vestiges of a
former expedition, whether I should be more fortunate than the leader of
it, and how far I should be able to penetrate beyond the point which had
conquered his perseverance. Only a week before I left Sydney I had
followed Mr. Oxley to the tomb. A man of great quickness and of uncommon
ability. The task of following up his discoveries was no less enviable
than arduous."
These thoughts were suggested to Sturt when standing at one of Oxley's
old camps, and coming from such a man carry great weight.
The following obituary notice of Oxley appeared in the Government Gazette
of May 27th, 1828.
"It would be impossible for his Excellency, consistently with his
feelings, to announce the decease of the late Surveyor-General without
endeavouring to express the sense he entertains of Mr. Oxley's services,
though he cannot do justice to them.
"From the nature of this colony, the office of Surveyor-General is
amongst the most important under Government; and to perform its duties in
a manner Mr. Oxley has done for a long series of years is as honourable
to his zeal and abilities as it is painful for the Government to be
deprived of them.
"Mr. Oxley entered the public service at an early period of his life, and
has filled the important situation of Surveyor-General for the last
sixteen years.
"His exertions in the public service have been unwearied, as has been
proved by his several expeditions to explore the interior. The public
have reaped the benefit while it is to be apprehended that the event,
which they cannot fail to lament, has been accelerated by the privations
and fatigues of these arduous services. Mr. Oxley eminently assisted in
unfolding the advantages of this highly favoured colony from an early
stage of its existence, and his name will ever be associated with the
dawn of its advancement. It is always gratifying to the Government to
record its approbation of the services of meritorious public officers,
and in assigning to Mr. Oxley's name a distinguished place in that class
to which his devotion to the interests of the colony has so justly
entitled him, the Government would do honour to his memory in the same
degree as it feels the loss it has sustained in his death."
Oxley died at Kirkham, his private residence near Sydney, on the 25th of
May, 1828. Though his judgment was at times at fault, as will be seen
later on, he was essentially a successful explorer; for, although he did
not in every case achieve the object aimed at, he always brought back his
men without loss, and he opened up vast tracts of new country. John
Oxley's personality is not very familiar, but the portrait presented to
the reader in this volume was taken in the prime of his life, before he
suffered the scars of doubtful battle with the Australian wilderness. It
has never been published before, and is taken from the original miniature
that he presented to Mrs. King, widow of Governor King, in 1810.
3.2. HIS FIRST EXPEDITION.
On this, Oxley's first journey of exploration, Evans accompanied him as
second in command, and another man who has left an immortal name was also
with him -- Allan Cunningham, officially known as King's Botanist.
Charles Fraser, well-known in connection with the early history both of
New South Wales and of Western Australia, accompanied Oxley under the
title of Colonial Botanist. There were nine other men in the party --
boatmen, horse-tenders, and so forth; they had with them two boats and
fourteen pack and riding-horses. A depot was first formed at the junction
of the small creek whence Evans had turned back, and where he had marked
a tree with his initials in 1815. There the boats were launched and
preparations completed for the final start. On the 6th of April, 1817,
Oxley left Sydney and joined his party at the depot on the 1st of May.
Thence he soon commenced this most momentous journey in Australia's early
annals, eager to penetrate into the unknown, and inspired with hopes of
solving the mystery of the outlet of this inland river.
Disappointment marks the tone of Oxley's journal from the start; the
exceeding flatness of the country, the many ana-branches of the river,
the low altitude of its banks, and the absence of any large tributary
streams, above all, the dismal impression made by the monotony of the
surroundings, seem to have depressed Oxley's spirit. He appears to have
formed the idea that the interior tract he was approaching was nothing
more than a dead and stagnant marsh -- a huge dreary swamp, within whose
bounds the inland rivers lost their individuality and merged into a
lifeless morass. A more melancholy picture could not be imagined, and
with such an awesome thought constantly haunting his mind there is no
wonder that he became morbid, and that the dominant tone of his journal,
whilst on the Lachlan, is so hopelessly pessimistic.
"These flats," he says, "are certainly not adapted for cattle; the grass
is too swampy, and the bushes, swamps, and lagoons are too thickly
intermingled with the better portion to render it a safe or desirable
grazing country. The timber is universally bad and small; a few misshapen
gum trees on the immediate banks of the river may be considered an
exception."
The channel of the river now divided, and Oxley followed the channel on
the northern side, which they were skirting. But before they had
progressed a mile beyond the point of divergence, they reached the spot
where the river overflowed its banks and its course was lost in the
marshes. It was on the 12th of May that they received this check to their
as yet uninterrupted progress.
"Observing an eminence about half-a-mile from the south side, we crossed
over the horses and baggage at a place where the water was level with the
banks, and which, when within its usual channel, did not exceed thirty or
forty feet in width.
"We ascended the hill, and had the mortification to perceive that the
termination of our research was reached, at least down this branch of the
river. The whole country from the west, north-west, round to the north,
was either a complete marsh or lay under water."
The country to the south and south-west appearing more elevated. Oxley
determined to return to the place where the branches separated, and to
try his fortune on the other one. This, after a while, proved as
unsatisfactory as the one they had abandoned. Bitterly disappointed,
Oxley altered his plans entirely. He resolved to cease trying to follow
the river through this water-logged country, and determined to strike out
on a direct course to the south coast in the neighbourhood of Cape
Northumberland. In this way he hoped to cross any river that these dreary
marshes and swamps gave birth to, and that found an outlet into the
Southern Ocean, between Spencer's Gulf and Cape Otway.
This resolve was at once carried out. The boats were hauled up and
secured together; all unnecessary articles were abandoned to suit the
reduced means of transit; and at nine o'clock on May 18th they said
farewell to this weary river and started to encounter fresh troubles
under another guise. Instead of travelling in a superfluity of water they
now found themselves straitened by drought, and the work began to tell
upon the horses. Scrub, too, that besetting hindrance of so many
Australian explorers, began to impede their onward path. Eucalyptus brush
overrun with creepers and prickly acacia bushes united to bar the way,
and when, after much toil and suffering, they at last reached the point
of a range, which Oxley named the Peel Range, the leader had reluctantly
again to change his mind and to abandon the idea of making south-west to
the coast. Sick at heart of this sequence of disastrous happenings, he
confided his feeling of sorrow to his journal.
"June 4th. Weather as usual fine and clear, which is the greatest comfort
we enjoy in these deserts abandoned by every living creature capable of
getting out of them. I was obliged to send back to our former
halting-place for water, a distance of near eight miles; this is terrible
for the horses, who are in general extremely reduced; but two in
particular cannot, I think, endure this miserable existence much longer.
"At five o'clock two of the men whom I had sent to explore the country to
the south-west and see if any water could be found, returned after
proceeding six or seven miles; they found it impossible to go any farther
in that direction, or even south, from the thick bushes that intersected
their course on every side; and no water (nor in fact the least sign of
any) was discovered either by them or by those who were sent in search of
it nearer our little camp.
"June 5th. From everything I can see of the country to the south-west, it
appears, upon the most mature deliberation, highly imprudent to persevere
longer in that direction, as the consequences to the horses of want of
grass and water might be most serious; and we are well assured that
within forty miles on that point the country is the same as before passed
over...Our horses are unable to go more than eight or ten miles a day,
but even they must be assured of finding food of which in these deserts
the chances are against the existence."
On the following day, June 6th, Oxley, having changed his course to the
west and north-west, made another effort to escape from the surroundings
that so disheartened him. On the 4th of June, before leaving, Allan
Cunningham planted some acorns and peach and apricot stones in honour of
the King's birthday. Upon this episode Oxley remarks, that they would
serve to commemorate the day and situation, "should these desolate plains
be ever again visited by civilised man, of which, however, I think there
is very little probability." All this only shows how the lack of
experience of the paradoxical nature of the Australian interior induced
Oxley to form an absurdly erroneous idea of the country in its virgin
state. His observations read almost like a present-day description of the
sandy spinifex desert of the north-west of Western Australia, and, in
fact, the very same remark was made by Warburton in 1873, when traversing
that awful desert. He confessed his uncertainty about the longitude of
Joanna Spring, and says that it did not matter, as no white man would
ever come into the desert again in search of the oasis.
But Oxley's troubles were increasing, and on June 8th he wrote: "The
whole country in these directions, as far as the eye can reach, was one
continued thicket of eucalyptus scrub. It was impossible to proceed that
way, and our situation was too critical to admit of delay: it was
therefore resolved to return back to our last station on the 6th, under
Peel's Range, if for no other purpose than that of giving the horses
water."
Forced to return once more, Oxley became thoroughly convinced of the
inhabitability of the country, and it is no wonder that his condemnation
was so sweeping and hasty. He wrote on June the 21st:--
"The farther we proceed westerly, the more convinced I am that for all
the practical purposes of civilised man the interior of this country
westward of a certain meridian is uninhabitable, deprived as it is of
wood, water and grass."
Unfortunately for his fame, he then relinquished all thoughts and hopes
of a southward course; for had he pushed on, posterity would have hailed
his memory as the discoverer of the Murrumbidgee. But Fate decided
otherwise, and dejected and baffled, he turned to follow the Peel Range
north, making for the part he had left, where at least he was sure of a
supply of water. The expedition suddenly came upon the river again on the
23rd of June, and hoping to find that it had modified its nature, they
commenced to run it down again. The 7th of July they were forced to halt
once more, when Oxley gave up all idea of tracing the Lachlan. He began
his return journey, making this last desponding entry:--
"It is with infinite regret and pain that I was forced to come to the
conclusion that the interior of this vast country is a marsh and
uninhabitable...There is a dreary uniformity in the barren desolateness
of this country which wearies one more than I am able to express. One
tree, one soil, one water, and one description of bird, fish, or animal
prevails alike for ten miles and for one hundred. A variety of
wretchedness is at all times preferable to one unvarying cause of pain or
distress."
[Illustration. The Lachlan River at the point where Oxley left it on the
4th August, 1818, and struck North-East to gain the Macquarie River and
follow that river up to Bathurst. Photo by the Reverend J.M. Curran.]
On the 4th of August, the leader, knowing the repellant nature of the
river and its swamps and morasses that lay ahead of their returning
footsteps, determined to quit the Lachlan altogether, and steering a
northern course, to abandon the low country, reach the Macquarie River
and follow it up to the settlement at Bathurst.
The boats having been long since abandoned, it was necessary to build a
raft of pine-logs wherewith to transport the baggage over the stream.
They crossed in safety, and we can imagine that it was with no feelings
of regret that they finally lost sight of the stream that had so
persistently baffled them in all their attempts to traverse its banks.
For some days they had to struggle against the many obstacles of a new
and untrodden land, but they at last emerged on to the Macquarie country,
which made a pleasant and welcome contrast with the detested Lachlan.
It may be thought that too much stress has been laid upon Oxley's opinion
of the Lachlan, but it was this pessimistic report that dominated the
public mind for many years in its speculations as to the character of the
interior.
To Oxley himself, the first glimpse of the Macquarie came like a ray of
sunshine on his harassed feelings. Was he not to reap some reward for his
heroic efforts along the Lachlan, to enjoy the realisation of some of his
ambition as geographical discoverer? The Macquarie seemed a favourable
subject for the exercise of his talents. Would it not lead him westward
to the conquest of that mysterious inland country which had hitherto
guarded its secrets with an invincible obstinacy? Poor Oxley, who can
help rejoicing with him in his short-lived joy? Without knowing it, he
was the first of a long line of brave spirits who were doomed to lose
health and life in carving their way into the heart of Australia.
As they returned homeward up the bank of the Macquarie, the river seemed
to him to glitter with the bright promise of a crown of success. For
almost the first time the entry in his journal has a cheery ring of
hope:--
"Nothing can afford a stronger contrast than the two rivers -- Lachlan
and Macquarie -- different in their habits, their appearance, and the
source from which they derive their waters, but, above all, differing in
the country bordering on them; the one constantly receiving great
accession of water from four streams, and as liberally rendering fertile
a great extent of country, whilst the other, from its source to its
termination is constantly diffusing and diminishing the water it
originally receives over low and barren deserts, creating only wet flats
and uninhabitable morasses, and during its protracted and sinuous course
is never indebted to a single tributary stream."
3.3. THE LIVERPOOL PLAINS.
The disappointment occasioned by Oxley's return to Bathurst and his
failure to trace the course of the Lachlan was in part atoned for by the
high opinion he had formed of the Macquarie. A second expedition was
planned, and the command again offered to the Surveyor-General.
Evans was again second, and Dr. Harris, a very able man, accompanied the
party as a volunteer. Charles Fraser was botanist, but Allan Cunningham
did not go. The expedition was on a slightly larger scale, there being,
besides those already mentioned, twelve ordinary members, with eighteen
horses and provisions for twenty-four weeks. A depot was formed at
Wellington Valley, and men sent ahead to build two boats.
On June 6th, the start was made from the depot, and for the first 125
miles no obstacles nor impediments were met with. Elated by this, Oxley
sent two men back to Bathurst, in accordance with instructions, bearing a
favourable despatch to Governor Macquarie. But Fate was again deriding
the unfortunate explorer. No sooner had the two parties separated, one
with well-grounded hopes of their ultimate success, the other bearing
back tidings of these confident hopes, than doubt and distrust entered
into the mind of the leader. Twenty-four hours after the departure of the
messengers, Oxley wrote in his journal:--
"For four or five miles there was no material change in the general
appearance of the country from what it had been on the preceding days,
but for the last six miles the land was considerably lower, interspersed
with plains clear of timber and dry. On the banks it was still lower, and
in many places it was evident that the river-floods swept over them,
although this did not appear to be universally the case...These
unfavourable appearances threw a damp upon our hopes, and we feared that
our anticipations had been too sanguine."
And still, as Oxley went on, he found the country getting flatter and
more liable to inundation, until at last, with a heart nearly as low as
the country, he found himself almost hemmed in by water. In fact, it was
necessary to retrace steps in order to find a place where they could
encamp with safety. Upon this emergency, Oxley held a consultation with
Evans and Harris, and it was decided to send the baggage and horses back
to a small and safe elevation that stood some fifteen miles higher up the
river, thus making a subsidiary depot camp. Oxley himself, with four
volunteers in the largest of the two boats, would take a month's
provisions and follow the stream as long as there was enough water to
float their craft. Meanwhile, Evans, during Oxley's absence, was to make
an excursion to the north-east, and return by a more northerly route,
this being the direction the party intended to take, should the river
fail them as the Lachlan had done on the previous journey.
It was a wet and stormy day on which Oxley started on the river voyage.
For about twenty miles there was, as Oxley expresses it, "no country."
The main channels being in an overflow state, the flat country which
surrounded them could be recognised only by the timber growing on the
banks. The clear spaces whereon no trees grew were now covered with
reeds, which stood at the height of six or seven feet above the surface.
That night they took refuge on a piece of land which was so nearly
submerged that there was scarcely enough space on which to kindle a fire.
In the morning the violence of the storm had somewhat abated, and as soon
as the grey light was strong enough for them to recognise their way, they
resumed their dreary journey.
Oxley still contrived to keep to what he took to be the main channel,
although, as it now pursued its course amid a dense thicket of reeds, it
was becoming more difficult with every succeeding mile. Oxley's
seamanship, however, stood him in good stead, and although fallen logs
now began to obstruct their passage, they kept doggedly on for another
twenty miles. There was no diminution in the volume of the current that
was now bearing them onward, and Oxley felt confident that he was
approaching that hidden lake, wherein the inland waters mingled their
streams, and of whose existence he thought he had now every reason to
rest assured. Just as he was buoying his spirits up with these hopes,
dreaming that in future he would be able proudly to say,
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea,
the river eluded all further pursuit by spreading out in every direction
amongst the ocean of reeds that surrounded them.
Wounded to the heart at this unlooked-for disappointment, Oxley, after
vainly seeking for some clue or indication by which he could continue the
search, had to 'bout ship and return to the camp of the night before. He
says:--
"There was no channel whatever amongst these reeds, and the depth varied
from five to three feet."
Although he was still convinced that the "long sought-for Australian Sea"
existed, he recognised the futility of continuing this search to the
westward, in which direction some malignant genius seemed ever to persist
in thwarting him; and so he regained the shelter of the depot at Mount
Harris, with another tale of frustrated hopes.
Evans, on his return from his scouting expedition to the north and
north-east, had a more cheerful story to tell. The weather had been wet
throughout, and the impassable nature of the country occasioned thereby
had hampered him greatly; nevertheless he had struggled across the worst
of the flat country, and in the north-east had come to a new river, which
he named the Castlereagh. He was absent ten days, and on his return Oxley
determined to abandon the Macquarie, which had proved even more deceptive
and elusive than the Lachlan, and to strike out for the higher lands
which Evans reported having seen.
He left Mount Harris on July 20th, first burying a bottle there
containing a written scheme of his intended movements, and some silver
coin. Ten years afterwards, Captain Sturt made an ineffectual search for
this bottle. Oxley had also buried a bottle at the point of his departure
from the Lachlan. Mitchell search for it without success, and learned
afterwards that it had been broken by the blacks.
On July 27th, the party reached the bank of the Castlereagh, after
fighting their way through bog, quagmire, and all the difficulties common
to virgin country during continued wet weather. As the direction they
were steering was towards a range seen by Evans, and named Arbuthnot
Range, their march was again interrupted by finding the new-found river
this time running bank-high, having evidently risen immediately after
Evans had crossed it on his return journey. Here, perforce, they had to
stay until the water subsided, and it was not until August 2nd that the
river had fallen enough to allow them to cross. The ground was still
soaked and boggy, and the horses having had to carry increased pack-loads
since the abandonment of the boats, the party suffered great toil and
hardship in their efforts to gain Arbuthnot Range. The Range was reached,
however, and rounding one end of it by skirting the base of a prominent
hill which they named Mount Exmouth, the harassed explorers at last
emerged upon splendid pastoral country.
As Oxley, from a commanding position, surveyed the magnificent scene
spread out beneath him -- gentle hills separating smiling valleys, which
in their turn merged into undulating plains all ripe for settlement -- he
must have felt that Fate had at length relented, and granted him a
measure of reward as the discoverer of this beautiful land. He called the
locality Liverpool Plains, and the name has long been synonymous with
pastoral prosperity. Their journey to the eastward, which carried them
through the heart of this rich and highly-favoured country, was now less
arduous; and though the ground was still wet from the late soaking rains,
the sun shone cheerily overhead, and the horses, revelling in the
abundant rich grass and succulent herbage, began to recover their
strength. On September 2nd, they came to a river, which Oxley named the
Peel; and here the expedition narrowly escaped the shadow of a fatality,
one man being nearly drowned whilst crossing. After leaving the Peel,
Oxley still continued easterly, traversing splendid open grazing country.
He was now approaching the dividing water-shed of the Main Range, to the
northward of that portion of it which is known at the present day as the
Liverpool Range. Here the deep glens and gullies with which the seaward
front is serrated, began to interfere seriously with the direct course of
travel, and at the heads of many of them there were cataracts and
waterfalls which compelled the wanderers to turn away to the south; and
on one occasion to revert almost to the west. One of these striking
natural features received the name of Becket's Cataract, and another was
christened Bathurst's Falls. Once again tempests and storms beset them,
and this wild weather found them wandering amongst the steep ravines and
dizzy descents of the mountainous range, seeking a way leading to the
lowlands.
It was on September 23rd that Oxley and Evans, while searching for a
practicable route, climbed a tall peak, and from the summit caught a
glimpse of the sea. It seems to have greatly impressed Oxley, and he
writes in his journal of his emotions on the occasion:--
"Bilboa's ecstacy at the first sight of the South Sea could not have been
greater than ours when, on gaining the summit of this mountain, we beheld
Old Ocean at our feet. It inspired us with new life; every difficulty
vanished, and in imagination we were already home."
The descent was attended with many perils: Oxley says that at one period
he would willingly have compromised for the loss of one-third of the
horses to ensure the safety of the remainder. But the men with him were
tried and steady, and the thick tufts of grass and the loose soil
afforded them help in securing a surer footing, of every chance of
availing themselves of which the men skilfully took advantage, so that
both men and horses reached the foot of the mountain -- now called Mount
Seaview -- without mishap.
They had reached the head of a river running into the Pacific, and
proceeded to follow its course down with more or less difficulty until
they reached the mouth, when Oxley, judging the entrance to be navigable,
named it Port Macquarie, though one should imagine that he had become
tired of that name. The river was named the Hastings.
On October 12th, a toilsome march commenced, following the shore to the
southward. The wearisome interruptions of the many inlets and saltwater
creeks greatly fatigued and distressed his men. But at last they came
upon a boat, half-buried in the sand, which had been lost some time
before from a Hawkesbury coaster. This they cleaned and patched, and
carried with them, utilising it during the latter stages of this weary
journey to facilitate the passage of the many saltwater creeks and
channels that impeded their progress. It is owing to the possession of
this derelict boat that Oxley crossed the mouth of the Manning without
identifying it as a river. The blacks now harassed them greatly, and it
was during one of the attacks made upon the party that one of the men,
named William Black, was dangerously wounded, being speared through the
back and the lower part of the body. The care and conveyance of this
invalided man was now added to Oxley's other anxieties, and it was with
feelings of great satisfaction that on November 1st they caught sight of
the rude buildings of Port Stephens. Through much hardship and privations
he had brought his party back without loss.
Oxley sent Evans on to Newcastle with despatches to the governor, in
which he alluded to his sanguine anticipations at the time he had sent in
his last report, and their almost immediate collapse. But the discovery
of Liverpool Plains compensated in some degree for the disappointment
caused by the renewed failure that had attended Oxley's efforts to trace
an inland river.
In the following year, 1819, the Lady Nelson, with the Surveyor-General
on board, visited the newly found Port Macquarie and the Hastings River,
to survey the entrance; in which task he was assisted by Lieutenant P.P.
King in the Mermaid. On his return to Port Jackson, in the same year, he
made a short excursion to Jarvis Bay with Surveyor Meehan, when they were
accompanied by the explorer who was to win fame as Hamilton Hume. Oxley
returned by boat, his companions overland.
3.4. THE BRISBANE RIVER.
It was in October, 1823, that Oxley left Sydney on the expedition that
resulted in the finding of the Brisbane River, and the foundation of the
settlement at Moreton Bay. He was despatched on a mission to examine
certain openings on the east coast, and report on the suitability of them
as sites for penal establishments. Moreton Bay, Port Curtis, and Port
Bowen were selected; and Oxley left in the colonial cutter Mermaid, with
Uniacke and Stirling as assistants.
As the cutter went up the coast, she called at Port Macquarie, and Oxley
had the pleasure of noting the rapid growth of the settlement that had
been built upon his recommendation. Further along the coast, Oxley
discovered and named the Tweed River. The Mermaid reached Port Curtis on
the 6th of November, and cast anchor for some time, during which Oxley
made a careful examination of the locality, his opinion of it as a site
for a settlement being decidedly unfavourable. He however discovered and
named the Boyne River.
It being considered too late in the season to proceed and examine Port
Bowen, the Mermaid went south again, and entering Moreton Bay, anchored
off the river that appeared to Flinders to take its source in the Glass
House Peaks, and which he had called the Pumice Stone River.
They had scarcely anchored when several natives were seen at a distance,
evidently attracted by their arrival, and on examining them with the
telescope, Uniacke was struck with the appearance of one of a much
lighter colour than that of his companions. The next day Oxley landed and
discovered that the man they had noticed was in reality a castaway white
man of the name of Pamphlet. He told a singular tale.
He had left Sydney in an open boat with three others, intending to go to
the Five Islands and bring back cedar. A terrible gale arose, and they
were blown out to sea and quite out of their reckoning, Pamphlet being
under the impression that they had come ashore south of Port Jackson.
They had suffered fearful hardships in the open boat, being at one time,
he averred, twenty-one days without water, during which time one man died
of thirst. The boat was at last cast up on an island in the bay (Moreton
Island) where they had joined the blacks, and lived amongst them ever
since, a matter of seven months. The other survivors were named Finnegan
and Parsons. Pamphlet informed Oxley that not long before the Mermaid
arrived, the three of them had started to try and reach Sydney overland,
but when they had got about fifty miles, he had turned back and the next
day had been rejoined by Finnegan, who stated that he had quarrelled with
Parsons. The latter was never heard of again.
Finnegan put in an appearance the next day, and Oxley naturally took the
opportunity to question them as to the knowledge they had gained of the
surrounding country during their enforced stay in it. On one important
point both of them were confident, and this was that, in the southern
portion of the bay, a large river was to be found which appeared
navigable, having a strong current.
Taking Finnegan with them, Oxley and Stirling started in the whaleboat
the following morning to verify this information. They found the river
and pulled up it about fifty miles. Oxley was greatly pleased with such a
discovery, and landing, ascended a hill which he named Termination Hill.
From the top he obtained a view over a wide extent of country, through
which he was able to trace the river for a long distance. Strangely
enough, the hasty glimpse he thus caught of a new and untrodden part of
Australia seemed to confirm his fixed belief in the final destination of
the Lachlan and the Macquarie as an inland sea.
"The nature of the country and a consideration of all the circumstances
connected with the appearances of the river, justify me in entertaining a
strong belief that the source of the river will not be found in
mountainous country, but rather that it flows from some lake, which will
prove to be the receptacle of those inland streams crossed by me during
an expedition of discovery in 1818."
Oxley named the river the Brisbane, and, taking aboard the two rescued
men, the Mermaid set sail for Port Jackson, where she arrived on December
13th. This ended the chapter of Oxley's discoveries in the field of
active exploration.