Fires in the Bush.
Rocks of Bullabalakit.
Boat launched.
Bees load my rifle with honey.
Embark on the Namoi in canvas boats.
Impediments to the navigation.
Boat staked, and sinks.
The leak patched.
She again runs foul of a log.
Provisions damaged.
Resolve to proceed by land.
Pack up the boats, and continue the journey.
Pass the western extremity of Nundewar Range.
Unknown tree.
Water scarce.
Providential supply.
Crayfish.
Trap-hill on plains.
Cut through a scrub.
Meet a tribe of Natives.
Again obliged to cut our way.
Fortunate discovery of water.
Dry valleys.
Mount Frazer.
The party in distress for want of water.
Water found next day.
Ducks.
Wheel Ponds.
Excessive heat and drought.
Description of the woods.
Meet with natives.
Cross the dry bed of a river.
A friendly native with his family.
No water.
Reach the Gwydir.
Cross it with one man.
Prevented by a native with spears, from shooting a kangaroo.
Re-cross the river.
December 23.
This morning all hands were at work. Some good pinetrees were brought to
the saw-pit, and one laid upon it. The sailors were set to paint the
inside of the canvas for the boats; The Doctor to clear out the dock
previous to laying down the keel, etc.; and the bullock-drivers and smith
to make a stockyard.
FIRES IN THE BUSH.
At 11 A.M. I discovered the grass near our tents to be on fire, but with
the assistance of the people it was fortunately extinguished. All the
country beyond the river was in flames, and indeed, from the time of our
arrival in these parts, the atmosphere had been so obscured by smoke that
I could never obtain a distinct view of the horizon. The smoke darkened
the air at night, so as to hide the stars, and thus prevented us from
ascertaining our latitude. One spark might have set the whole country on
our side in a blaze, and then no food would remain for the cattle, not to
mention the danger to our stores and ammunition. Fires prevailed fully as
extensively at great distances in the interior, and the sultry air seemed
heated by the general conflagration. In the afternoon I took my rifle and
explored the course of the river some miles downwards, an interesting
walk where probably no white man's foot had ever trod before. I found a
flowery desert, the richest part of the adjacent country being quite
covered with a fragrant white amaryllis in full bloom.* The river widened
into smooth deep reaches, so that I felt sanguine about our progress with
the boats. In returning, I examined the hills on the right bank. One,
named Einerguendi by Brown, consisted of compact felspar, coloured green
by chlorite, with grains of quartz and acicular crystals of felspar.
(Footnote. Calostemma candidum, Lindley manuscripts; foliis...tubo
perianthii limbo multo breviore, corona truncata dentibus sterilibus
nullis, umbellis densis, pedicellis articulatis exterioribus multo
longioribus.)
ROCKS OF BULLABALAKIT.
The hill immediately over our camp was Bullabalakit, and consisted partly
of granular felspar, probably tinged greenish with chlorite; and partly
of concretionary porphyry, the concretions being mottled red and white,
and containing grains of quartz and crystals of common felspar; the white
concretions resisting the action of the atmosphere stood in relief on the
weather surface; I noticed also a vein of amethystine quartz.
December 24 and 25.
Ribs and thwarts were necessary to distend the canvas boats, and though
we had brought only moulds of each sort, yet we had tools and hands to
make them when required. We also sawed the pine wood into thin planks to
form a floor in each boat, whereon to lay our stores. We made the ribs of
bluegum (eucalyptus). The weather was excessively hot, yet the men worked
hard at the saw-pit notwithstanding; but all our activity was in danger
of being fruitless, for the river each day fell about four inches!
BOAT LAUNCHED.
December 26.
At half-past one P.M. the first boat was launched on the Namoi, and the
keel of the second immediately laid down. The delay occasioned by the
preparation of these boats was more irksome as the waters of the river
continued to subside.
Amongst the objects, which in this country were quite new to me, were the
insects continually buzzing about my tent. Of these, a fly as large as a
small bee, and of a rich green and gold colour, being a species of
stilbum, occasionally surprised me with a hum almost as musical as the
tones of an Eolian harp.
BEES LOAD MY RIFLE WITH HONEY.
But the habits of the bees were very remarkable, judging from a singular
circumstance which occurred respecting my rifle, for I found that a
quantity of wax and honey had been deposited in the barrel, and also in
the hollow part of the ramrod. I had previously observed one of these
bees occasionally enter the barrel of the piece, and it now appeared that
wax and honey had been lodged immediately above the charge, to the depth
of about two inches. The honey was first perceived in the hollow part of
the ramrod; and although an empty, double-barreled gun lay beside the
rifle, neither wax nor honey was found in either of its tubes. The bee,
which I frequently observed about my tent, was as large as the English
bee, and had a sting.
December 28.
This day I sent off one of the men (Stephen Bombelli) with a despatch for
the government at Sydney, giving an account of our journey thus far, and
stating my intention of descending the Namoi in the boats. Bombelli was
mounted on horseback, armed with a pistol, and provided with food for
twelve days, being sufficient to enable him to carry the despatch to
Pewen Bewen, and to return to the depot which I had arranged to establish
here.
EMBARK ON THE NAMOI IN CANVAS BOATS.
December 29.
We launched the second boat, and having loaded both, I left two men in
charge of the carts, bullocks and horses, at Bullabalakit, and embarked,
at last, on the waters of the Namoi, on a voyage of discovery.
IMPEDIMENTS TO THE NAVIGATION.
We passed along several reaches without meeting any impediment, but, at
length, an accumulation of drift timber and gravel brought us up at a
spot where two large trees had fallen across the stream from opposite
banks. From the magnitude of these trunks and others which, interwoven
with rubbish and buried in gravel, supported them, I anticipated a long
delay, but the activity of the whole party was such that a clear passage
was opened in less than half an hour. The sailors swam about like frogs,
and swimming, divided with a cross-cut saw trees under water. I found I
could survey the river as we proceeded by measuring, with a pocket
sextant, the angle subtended by the two ends of a twelve feet rod held in
the second boat, at the opposite end of each reach, the bearing being
observed at the same time. By referring to one of Brewster's tables, the
angle formed by the rod of twelve feet, I ascertained thus the length of
each reach. This operation occasioned a delay of a few seconds only, just
as the last boat arrived in sight of each place of observation.
Several black swans floated before us, and they were apparently not much
alarmed even at the unwonted sight of boats on the Namoi. The evenness of
the banks and reaches, and the depth and stillness of the waters were
such that I might have traced the river downwards, at least so far as
such facilities continued, had our boats been of a stronger material than
canvas.
BOAT STAKED, AND SINKS.
But dead trees lay almost invisible under water, and at the end of a
short reach where I awaited the reappearance of the second boat, we heard
suddenly confused shouts, and on making to the shore, and running to the
spot, I found that the boat had run foul of a sunken tree and had filled
almost immediately. Mr. White had, on the instant, managed to run her
ashore, across another sunken trunk, and thus prevented her from going
down in deep water opposite to a steep bank. By this disaster our whole
stock of tea, sugar, and tobacco, with part of our flour and pork, were
immersed in the water, but fortunately all the gunpowder had been stowed
in the first boat.
THE LEAK PATCHED.
This catastrophe furnished another instance of the activity of the
sailors; the cargo was got out, and the sunken boat being hauled up, a
rent was discovered in the canvas of her larboard bow. This the sailmaker
patched with a piece of canvas; a fire was made; tar was melted and
applied; the boat was set afloat, reloaded, and again underway in an hour
and a half.
SHE AGAIN RUNS FOUL OF A LOG.
Once more upon the waters everything seemed to promise a successful
voyage down the river, but our hopes were doomed to be of short duration,
for as I again awaited the reappearance of the second boat, a shout
similar to the first again rose, and on running across the intervening
land within the river bend, I found her once more on the point of going
down, from similar damage sustained in the STARBOARD bow.
RESOLVE TO PROCEED BY LAND.
It was now near five P.M., and the labours of the day had been sufficient
to convince me that the course of the Namoi could be much more
conveniently traced at that time by a journey on land than with boats of
canvas on the water. We pitched our tents; and on plotting my work I
found we were distant, in a direct line, only about two miles from
Bullabalakit.
December 30.
The cattle from the depot camp arrived at nine A.M., four men having been
sent there early this morning to bring them with the carts and horses to
the place where we had disembarked.
PROVISIONS DAMAGED.
The tea, sugar, and biscuit, having got wet in the sunken boat, I was
compelled to halt this day in order to dry these articles if possible, in
the sun, and the heat being very intense, we were tolerably successful.
The sugar, in a liquid state, was laid out in small quantities on
tarpaulins; the tea was also spread out thinly before the sun, and thrown
about frequently--and thus we were enabled, by the evening, to pack it up
quite dry in canisters; the whole having lost in weight two and a half
pounds. The sugar had crystallised sufficiently to be put up again,
without any danger of fermentation. During many days I had anxiously
watched the smoky red hot sky for some appearance of rain: no dew
nourished the grass, which had become quite yellow, and the river upon
which I set my hopes was rapidly drying up. In my tent the thermometer
generally reached 100 degrees of Fahrenheit during the day. At length the
welcome sound of thunder was heard, and dark clouds cooled the atmosphere
long before sunset. These clouds at length poured a heavy shower on the
yawning earth; flakes of ice or hail accompanied it, and we enjoyed a
cool draught of iced water, where the air had just before been nearly as
warm as the blood.
In emptying the water out of the sunken boat we found a crayfish
resembling those which I had seen in the freshwater lagoons about Lake
George; the remains of this crustacean were also abundant there, at
places where water had been but very temporarily lodged.*
(Footnote. A species of Astacus, which, as far as I am aware, comes very
close to the common European crayfish.)
PACK UP THE BOATS, AND CONTINUE THE JOURNEY.
We dismantled our boats, packing up the canvas, and in the hollow of a
large tree I buried my collection of geological specimens, that we might
be loaded as lightly as possible.
December 31.
Quitting this spot at seven A.M. we continued on a bearing of 20 degrees
west of north, and passed through a scrub of Acacia pendula, in which
grew some eucalypti. At two and three-quarter miles we entered on a
spacious open plain which appeared to extend westward to the river, a
distance of about two miles. We crossed the more elevated and eastern
part of this plain. We next entered a scrub of Acacia pendula, which at
seven miles opened into a forest of apple-trees and other eucalypti. We
soon after reached Maule's creek, the passage of which, on account of its
steep banks, cost us an hour and a half. This induced me to encamp there,
influenced also by the apprehension of a want of water, at any convenient
distance beyond it. On first approaching water I had frequently an
opportunity of observing that the worst characters have the least control
over their appetites, in cases of extreme privation. It was a standing
order, which I insisted on being observed, that no man should quit the
line of route to drink without my permission. There was one,
notwithstanding, who never could, in cases of extremity, resist the
temptation of water, and who would rush to it, regardless of
consequences. Now this man continued to be an irreclaimable character,
and in six years after he had lost all the advantages he gained by his
services on this occasion. The morning had been calm and very hot, but at
three P.M. the sun was obscured, to our inexpressible relief, and clouds
full of thunder at length overcast the whole sky; only a few drops of
rain fell about six P.M.; and at ten the heavens became clear, the air
however was cool and refreshing.
PASS THE WESTERN EXTREMITY OF NUNDEWAR RANGE.
January 1, 1832.
We proceeded on the same bearing, travelling over a very level surface.
As we approached the western extremity of the great range, we touched on
an open plain, whereof the soil was very rich. The greater portion of it
lay on the left, or westward of our route, or towards the river. After
crossing it we again entered a thin scrub of Acacia pendula, which having
been recently burnt was open and favourable for passing through. We
afterwards crossed a succession of gentle undulations, and through an
opening, along the bottom of one valley, I obtained a view over the flat
country to the westward. The most remarkable feature was a naked ridge of
yellowish rock which rose abruptly from the woody country, as if it
overhung the river. I wished much to examine that singular mass, but we
were proceeding with little prospect of finding water, and we had
impassable scrubs before us, as well as rocky hills on our right. A
valley at length appeared in our route, and in which from the nature of
the mountains at its head, I hoped to find water. In this I was however
disappointed, for the channel, although of considerable depth, was quite
dry, and I in vain searched its bed for at least a mile upwards. At ten
miles the most western head of the range of Nundewar bore north, its low
western extremity being distant only about a quarter of a mile. We were
about to cross some offsets from the range, when a thick scrub or brush
obstructed our further progress in that direction. I entered it and
penetrated about a mile and a half without discovering any indication of
water, or any opening through which the carts might pass. The weather was
extremely warm, and as we had come a long journey, I determined to encamp
once more on the Namoi; and turning westward I followed a line of flats
and hollows, which led me to the nearest bend of that river. We
calculated we had travelled twenty-one miles, although the distance by
latitude and angles taken on the hills is less. Thermometer 97 degrees in
the shade. Where we encamped the river was shallow, with many dead trees
in the channel; but a little lower down it formed a deep, broad, and
extensive reach. The latitude as ascertained by the stars Aldebaran and
Rigel was 30 degrees 24 minutes 44 seconds South.
January 2.
We pursued a north-west course after getting clear of the river, my
object being to keep within reach of it, if possible, in case of scarcity
of water. Yet with such a range on our right this was not much to be
apprehended; indeed, our line of exploration was as favourable as could
be wished, having a river on one hand, and a lofty range on the other;
the country between presenting no impediment to our progress northward.
At about two miles we crossed a small watercourse with some pools in it,
and half a mile further the broad bed of a river, the course of which was
towards the Namoi, but it did not contain much water. It could not be a
long river in either direction, though the width, the height of banks,
and the large water-worn stones in its bed, gave it the appearance of
being at times a considerable stream. Some caution was necessary at both
these watercourses in passing the carts over, the banks of both being
steep; we crossed them however without much delay. We next ascended, by a
gradual slope, a low ridge, which had on its summit a species of the
eucalyptus with yellow bark, presenting a striking contrast to other
trees, the line between them being also well defined. The rock consisted
of red sandstone, the first I had seen to the northward of Liverpool
range. On descending, which we did by a gentle slope, the scrub became
gradually thin, and at length opened to a clear verdant surface,
extending far to the north and west. It was now obvious that nothing
could obstruct our progress into the regions beyond the great range. On
the contrary, a beautiful open country lay at its base, reaching quite
round it to the north-east. A fresh cooling breeze from the north-west
fanned our faces as we beheld, for the first time, that fine country. The
recollection of the rocks which we had endeavoured to cross further east
perhaps heightened its beauty in our eyes, but the great range itself
formed a sublime horizon on the east, some of the summits having very
remarkably pointed or castellated forms.
UNKNOWN TREE.
One tree of an uncommon genus grew on the borders of the plain, and about
a mile to the west one solitary hill stood in this plain, like an island
in the sea. It was flat-topped, with a few trees on the summit. The
uncommon tree was covered with a yellow blossom, the leaf was dark green
and shining, and the wood was white.* The low country, which seemed most
to promise water, was still distant, while the course of the Namoi was
receding from our route as I had reason to believe from the position of
the low ridge which I had crossed. An opening in the distance westward
seemed to mark its course.
(*Footnote. See the Journal of my next Journey Chapter 2.8.)
WATER SCARCE.
I was still disposed to pursue a middle direction between the mountains
and the river (35 degrees West of North) but I bore in mind the necessity
for turning these ranges, so as to pass into that part of the country
beyond them at which we should have arrived if we had crossed them where
we first attempted, in order to determine the question as to the
existence of the large river there, as stated by The Barber.
PROVIDENTIAL SUPPLY.
A rather elevated but grassy plain afforded little prospect of water
being near at the time we were about to halt and rest, after a long
journey, and I had directed the men to pitch the tents, despairing of
reaching water that day, when I suddenly came upon a deep pool. I was
truly sensible of the goodness of Providence, considering that this was
to all appearance the only water within many miles, and on a plain where
I had no reason to expect it. I could not then see how the pond was
supplied.
CRAYFISH.
Neither was this all our good fortune, for having directed Jones (one of
the men ablest at fishing) to try the pond, to the no small amusement of
the others; he nevertheless drew out in a short time a good dish of
crayfish (or lobsters, as they termed them). We had also killed a
kangaroo that morning, which enabled us to feed our famished dogs, so
that our entry on this new region could not have been more auspicious.
TRAP-HILL ON PLAINS.
In the afternoon I walked to the isolated hill of the plain, and found
that it consisted of trap-rock, a solid mass projecting from the earth,
with little or no soil upon it. Its greater elongation extended due north
and south, conformable to the direction of most of the other summits I
had ascended. The steepest side was towards the east, and its height was
50 feet above the plain. From this hill I perceived another like it, due
south, and distant about half a mile.
The dead silence of the solitary plains around me was broken by the sound
of a distant thunderstorm which was then exhausting itself on the
Nundewar range, while the sun was setting in perfect tranquillity on the
unbroken horizon of the west. Afterwards the night was dark and stormy,
and at ten it began to rain, a circumstance rather alarming to us then,
considering the nature of the soil of these plains, which a few days'
rain must have rendered nearly impassable.
January 3.
A fine serene morning, although the eastern mountains still echoed under
clouds of thunder. We left the Lobster Pond at six, and continued our
route in the direction of 35 degrees west of north for the first twelve
miles.
CUT THROUGH A SCRUB.
Having reached, at length, the northern limits of the plain, we
encountered, after passing through some slight woods of Acacia pendula
and eucalyptus, a thick brush through which we were obliged to open a way
with axes for a mile and a half.
MEET A TRIBE OF NATIVES.
While engaged in this work, one of the men said he heard voices. On
gaining once more the opener forest, we saw two newly felled trees which
had been cut with an iron axe or tomahawk; and immediately after we
perceived the natives at a little distance. They were hurrying off, but
being most anxious to conciliate them and gain if possible some
information respecting the country, I sent Dawkins, who was an eager
volunteer on the occasion, forward to them, and he prevailed on several
to stop and speak to him, while their women and children decamped. When
they seemed no longer disposed to run, I ventured forward; but those who
had got round Dawkins, on seeing me approach, made off, one by one, until
none remained when I rode up to Dawkins, except a young man. Not a word
was understood on either side, yet our new acquaintance talked fluently,
and also repeated what we said to him. He carried no spear or weapon,
with the exception of three little sticks, which he held in the left
hand; neither did he wear any dress or ornament, nor was his skin much
scarified. His features were not bad, and they wore an expression of
extreme good nature. We now regretted more than ever the absence of Mr.
Brown, as with his assistance we might now have learnt so much respecting
the rivers and the country before us. The tribe appeared to consist of
about thirty individuals; those who remained, at a distance, carried
spears, and were evidently much afraid of us. The string of low slang
words which the natives nearer the colony suppose to be our language,
while our stockmen believe they speak theirs, was of no use here. In vain
did Dawkins address them thus: "What for you jerran budgerry
whitefellow?" "Whitefellow brother belong it to blackfellow."* Neither
had the piece of tobacco, which he had put in the stranger's mouth, any
effect in bringing intelligible words out of it, although the poor fellow
complacently chewed the bitter weed. He readily ate some bread which was
given him, and on presenting him with a halfpenny he signified by gesture
that he should wear it at his breast, a fashion of the natives nearer the
colony. I placed in his hand a small tomahawk, the most valuable of gifts
to his tribe; and leaving him enriched thus, we quietly continued our
journey, that the tribe might see our purpose had no particular reference
to them, and that they had no cause for alarm, as our behaviour to the
young man must have sufficiently testified.
(*Footnote. Meaning: Why are you afraid of a good white man? The white
man is the black man's brother.)
We soon after entered another extensive plain on which the rich soil,
when we had got halfway across, changed to a stiff clay, the grass
marking the change by a difference of colour, being red on the clay and
quite green on the other soil. This clay occupied the highest part of the
plain. Passing through another scrub of Acacia pendula we reached a still
more extensive plain, and while we were crossing it I was informed, by
the carpenter, that the wheels of one of the carts were falling to pieces
and required immediate repair. We accordingly halted, and some wedges
were driven into them. The thermometer here stood at 97 degrees.
AGAIN OBLIGED TO CUT OUR WAY.
A brush of Acacia pendula also bounded this plain on the north; and
beyond it we entered a scrub of forest-oak (casuarina) which was so very
thick that we were compelled to halt the carts until a way could be cut
through it for upwards of two miles; beyond that distance however the
brush opened into patches of clearer ground. We had changed our course to
north in the large plain, and had preserved this direction in cutting
through these scrubs. It was now four P.M., and during the whole journey
from six A.M., we had seen no water; the day also was exceedingly warm,
and I was riding in advance of the party, and looking at some elevated
ground in an opening of the wood with thoughts of encamping there, but
very doubtful whether we should ever see water again.
FORTUNATE DISCOVERY OF WATER.
When almost in despair I observed a small hollow with an unusually large
gumtree hanging over it; and my delight under such circumstances may be
imagined, when I perceived on going forward, the goodly white trunk of
the tree reflected in a large pond. A grassy flat beside the water proved
quite a home to us, affording food for our cattle, and rest from the
fatigues of that laborious day. We found these ponds in situations which
seemed rather elevated above the adjacent plains, at least their
immediate banks were higher; hence we usually came upon them where we
least expected to see water, before we were acquainted with this
peculiarity of the country. The pond where we now encamped was connected
with several others that were dry, but it was quite impossible at that
time to discover which way the current ran in times of flood. The
latitude was 30 degrees 6 minutes 30 seconds South. In the evening the
sky was illuminated so much by an extensive fire in the woods near us
that the light was clearer in our camp than the brightest moonlight.
DRY VALLEYS.
January 4.
Continuing due north, we just avoided some thick scrubs, which either on
the right or left would have been very difficult to penetrate. The woods
opened gradually however, into a thick copse of Acacia pendula, and at
the end of three miles we reached the eastern skirts of an extensive open
plain, the ground gently undulating. At 4 3/4 miles, on ascending a
slight eminence, we suddenly overlooked a rather deep channel, containing
abundance of water in ponds, the opposite banks being the highest ground
visible. The vast plains thus watered consist chiefly of a rich
dark-coloured earth, to the depth of 30 or 40 feet. Unabraded fragments
of trap are not uncommon in the soil of these plains, and I imagined
there was a want of symmetry in the hollows and slopes as compared with
features more closely connected with hills elsewhere. At 8 1/2 miles,
perceiving boundless plains to the northward, I changed the direction of
our route 24 degrees east of north. The plains extended westward to the
horizon, and opened to our view an extensive prospect towards the
north-east, into the country north of the range of Nundewar, a region
apparently champaign, but including a few isolated and picturesque hills.
Patches of wood were scattered over the level parts, and we hastened
towards a land of such promising aspect. Water however was the great
object of our search, but I had no doubt that I should find enough in a
long valley before us, which descended from the range on the east. In
this I was nevertheless mistaken; for although the valley was well
escarped, it did not contain even the trace of a watercourse.
MOUNT FRAZER.
Crossing the ridge beyond it, to a valley still deeper, which extended
under a ridge of very remarkable hills, we met with no better success;
nor yet when we had followed the valley to its union with another, under
a hill which I named Mount Frazer, after the botanist of that name.
THE PARTY IN DISTRESS FOR WANT OF WATER.
No other prospect of relief from this most distressing of all privations
remained to us, and the day was one of extraordinary heat, for the
thermometer, which had never before been above 101 degrees on this
journey, now stood at 108 degrees in the shade. The party had travelled
sixteen miles, and the cattle could not be driven further with any better
prospect of finding water. We therefore encamped in this valley while I
explored it upwards, but found all dry and desolate. Mr. White returned
late, after a most laborious but equally fruitless search northward, and
we consequently passed a most disagreeable afternoon. Unable to eat, the
cattle lay groaning, and the men extended on their backs watched some
heavy thunderclouds which at length stretched over the sky; the very
crows sat on the trees with their mouths open.
The thunder roared and the cloud broke darkly over us, but its liquid
contents seemed to evaporate in the middle air. At half-past seven a
strong hot wind set in from the north-east and continued during the
night. Thermometer 90 degrees. I was suddenly awoke from feverish sleep
by a violent shaking of my tent, and I distinctly heard the flapping of
very large wings, as if some bird, perhaps an owl, had perched upon it.
January 5.
The sun's rays were scorching before his red orb had cleared the horizon,
but ere he appeared the party was in motion. No dew had fallen, yet even
the distressed bullocks and horses seemed to participate in the hope
which led us forward. With one accord men and quadrupeds hastened from
the inhospitable valley, common sufferers from the want of an element so
essential to the living world. Continuing on the same bearing of 24
degrees east of north we reached the highest part of some clear ground,
at about two miles from where we had encamped, and from this spot I
obtained an extensive view over the country before us. The ground sloped
for several miles towards a line of trees beyond which a steep ridge
extended parallel to that line, and upwards to the mountains, evidently
enclosing a channel of drainage, so that I ventured at once, on seeing
this, to assure the men that I saw where we should meet with water. The
way to it was all downhill, open and smooth; while the Nundewar range,
now to the southward, presented, on this northern side, a beautiful
variety of summits.
WATER FOUND NEXT DAY. DISCOVER A SMALL RIVER.
I galloped impatiently towards the line of wood, and found there a
meandering channel full of water, with steep banks of soft earth,
apparently a small river, and I hastened back with the welcome
intelligence to the men. The extreme heat and the fatigue of travelling
could not have been borne much longer. One man (Woods) had been left
behind at his own request, being unable even to ride, from violent pains
in his stomach; another was also so ill that he could not walk; the
bullocks still drew, but with their tongues protruding most piteously. I
sent a man on horseback back with a kettleful of water to Woods. The
cattle being unyoked rushed to the stream, and in half an hour we were
all comfortably encamped, with good grass beside us for the cattle. The
bottom of this small river-channel was in no part gravelly, but consisted
of soft earth, in which however the cattle did not sink very deep.
Fragments of flint, basalt, and quartz, apparently not worn by attrition,
abound in the adjacent soil. The general direction of the watercourse
appeared to be about 36 degrees north of west.
DUCKS.
At a pond above our camp the carpenter shot two ducks of a kind not
previously seen by us, having a purple speck on the head, behind the ear.
We had now arrived in the country beyond the mountains which we had in
vain attempted to cross, having found an open and accessible way round
them; it remained to be ascertained whether the large river, as described
by The Bushranger, was near; according to him it was the first river to
be met with after crossing the range north-east by north of Tangulda.
At four P.M. the thermometer stood at 101 degrees. The latitude was
ascertained in the evening to be 29 degrees 50 minutes 29 seconds South.
WHEEL PONDS.
January 6.
The morning was rather cool, with clouds and distant thunder. We now
proceeded in a northerly direction until we were impeded by scrub, about
three miles from the camp. Through this we cut our way, keeping as
closely in the northern direction as the openings would allow. At length
the wheels of one of the carts, and the axle of another, became
unserviceable, and could not be repaired, unless we halted for two days.
As they could only be dragged a few miles further, I went forward as soon
as we got clear of the scrubs, which extended three miles, in search of
water for an encampment. I came upon a slight hollow and followed it
down, but it disappeared on a level plain, bounded on each side by rising
grounds. One dry pond encouraged my hopes, and I continued my search
along a narrow flat, where the grass had been recently on fire. From this
point, and while pursuing a kangaroo, I came upon a well marked
watercourse with deep holes, but all these were dry. Tracing the line of
these holes downwards to where the other flat united with it I found,
exactly in the point of junction, as I had reason to expect, a deep pool
of water. Once more therefore we could encamp, especially as two very
large ponds on a rocky bed were found a little lower than that water
first discovered. This element was daily becoming more precious in our
estimation, and I had reason to be very anxious about it, on account of
Mr. Finch, who was following in our track. The spot on which we encamped
was covered with rich grass, and enclosed by shady casuarinae and thick
brush. The prospect of two days' repose for the cattle on that verdure,
and under these shades, was most refreshing to us all. It was, indeed, a
charming spot, enlivened by numbers of pigeons, and the songs of little
birds, in strange, but very pleasing notes.
Here I again remarked that among these casuarinae scrubs the eucalyptus,
so common in the colony, was only to be seen near water; so that its
white shining bark and gnarled branches, while they reminded us of home
at Sydney, also marked out the spots for fixing our nightly home in the
bush.
EXCESSIVE HEAT AND DROUGHT.
January 7.
The night had been unusually hot, the thermometer having stood at 90
degrees, and there had not been a breath of wind. Few of the men had
slept. Thus even night, which had previously afforded us some protection
from our great enemy, the heat, no longer relieved us from its effects;
and this incessant high temperature which weakened the cattle, dried up
the waters, destroyed our wheels, and nourished the fires that covered
the country with smoke, made humidity appear to us the very essence of
existence, and water almost an object of adoration. No disciple of
Zoroaster could have made proselytes of us. The thermometer ranged from
96 to 101 degrees during the day, and during the last five nights had
stood as high as 90 degrees between sunset and sunrise. From the time the
party left Sydney rain had fallen on only one day. We left each friendly
waterhole in the greatest uncertainty whether we should ever drink again,
and it may be imagined with what interest, under such circumstances, I
watched the progress of a cloudy sky. It was not uncommon for the heavens
to be overcast, but the clouds seemed to consist more of smoke than moist
vapour. The wind, from the time of our first arrival in the country, had
blown from the north or north-west, and the bent of trees, at all
exposed, showed that these were the prevailing winds.
DESCRIPTION OF THE WOODS.
The country when seen from an eminence appeared to be very generally
wooded, but the lower parts were perfectly clear, or thinly strewed with
bushes, and slender trees, chiefly varieties of acacia. The principal
wood consisted of casuarinae which grew in thick clumps, or scrubs, and
very much impeded, as has already been stated, our progress in any given
direction. I found that these scrubs of casuarinae grew generally on
rising grounds, and chiefly on their northern or eastern slopes. We saw
little of the callitris tribe, after we had crossed the first hill beyond
our last camp on the Namoi. On the contrary, these casuarinae scrubs and
grassy plains seemed to characterise the country to the westward and
northward of the Nundewar range, as far, at least, as we had yet
penetrated. The course of this chain of ponds appeared to be parallel to
that on which we had previously encamped, 36 degrees North of West. A
yellow, highly calcareous sandstone occurred in the bed and banks of this
stream, forming a stratum from two or three feet in thickness, and in
parts of the upper surface nodules of ironstone were embedded.
On examining our wheels, we found that the heat had damaged them very
much, some of the spokes having shrunk more than an inch. The carpenter
managed however to repair them this day.
January 8.
The morning was cool and pleasant, with a breeze from the west. We left
the ponds (named Wheel Ponds) exactly at six A.M., and, after travelling
a mile, entered a scrub through which we were compelled to cut a lane
with axes, for three miles; when at length the wood opened, and some
trees of that species of eucalyptus called box grew on the flats. At five
miles from our camp I shot a kangaroo.
MEET WITH NATIVES.
At seven miles, as we entered a forest,* we heard the sound of the
natives' hatchets, and we saw soon after their fires at a distance. We at
length came unawares upon a native in a tree, for he was so busy at work
cutting out an opossum, that he did not see us, until we were very near
him. A gin and child gave the alarm, upon which he stared at the strange
assemblage with a look of horror, and immediately calling to the female
in an authoritative tone, she disappeared in the woods. He then threw a
club, or nulla-nulla, to the foot of the tree, and ascended to the
highest branch. I called to him, and made such signs as I thought most
likely to give him confidence and remove his apprehensions of harm; but
apparently to no purpose, for his reply was "Ogai!" pronounced in a loud
imperative tone. I thought it best to proceed quietly on our way;
whereupon he descended and ran off, having picked up two spears which lay
near the tree. We heard calls in various directions, and witefellow
pronounced very loudly and distinctly. Witefellow, or wite ma, appears to
be their name (of course derived from us) for our race, and this
appellation probably accompanies the first intelligence of such strangers
to the most remote, interior regions.
(*Footnote. A forest means in New South Wales, an open wood, with grass.
The common bush or scrub consists of trees and saplings, where little
grass is to be found.)
CROSS THE DRY BED OF A RIVER.
We soon after came upon the bank of a river-course, in the bed of which,
although deep, broad, and gravelly, there was no water; its general
direction was westward. At eight miles we entered upon an extensive, open
plain, which reached to the horizon in the direction of 10 degrees West
of North. We crossed it, continuing our journey northward, until a thick
scrub obliged me to turn to the east.
A FRIENDLY NATIVE WITH HIS FAMILY.
At thirteen miles, being again in a wood, we heard the native axe at
work, and, naturally eager to communicate with or even see the faces of
fellow-creatures in these dismal solitudes, I allowed Dawkins to go
towards them unarmed, that he might, at least by signs, ascertain where
water was to be found. A considerable time having elapsed without his
reappearance, I went after him, and found him in communication (by signs)
with a very civil native, who had just carried a quantity of wild honey
to his gin and child, having first offered some to Dawkins. This man
betrayed no signs of fear, neither had he any offensive weapons, but he
refused to accompany Dawkins to the rest of the party, rather inviting
the latter, by signs, to accompany him. For water, he pointed both to the
north-east and south-west, and all around, as if it had been abundant;
numerous pigeons and kangaroos also showed that there was some at no
great distance; nevertheless we were doomed to pass another night without
any, after a long day's journey.
NO WATER.
On quitting the wood where we met the native we crossed a plain which
appeared to slope westward. Night was coming on, and I directed my course
towards some tall trees, where we found a hollow, but no water remained
in it; yet here we were nevertheless obliged to encamp. Some of the men
who had set out in search of water had not returned when it became dark;
but on our sending up a rocket they found their way to the camp, although
they had not succeeded in their search for water.
From this camp the summits of the Nundewar range were still visible, and
very useful in determining our longitude. One cone in particular (Mount
Riddell) promised from its height to be a landmark still on these
northern plains. (See below, outline of summits as seen on 12th January.)
REACH THE GWYDIR.
Continuing our journey at half-past five A.M. over the clear plain, we
came upon several ponds, distant not more than a mile from where we had
passed the night. We lost no time in watering the cattle and proceeding.
At half a mile beyond I perceived on the right some very green grass by
the edge of a hollow, overhung by spreading eucalypti. I found there a
fine lagoon of considerable extent, and brim-full of the purest water.
There were no reeds, but short grass grew on the brink, and near the
shore a few waterlilies. Here we filled our keg and kettles. We next
crossed some slightly rising ground, and high in the branches of the
trees I perceived, to my astonishment, dry tufts of grass, old logs, and
other drift matter! I felt confident that we were at length approaching
something new, perhaps the large river, the Kindur of The Bushranger. On
descending by a very gentle slope, a dark and dense line of gigantic
bluegum-trees (eucalyptus) growing amid long grass and reeds, encouraged
our hopes that we had at length found the big river. A narrow tract of
rich soil covered with long grass and seared with deep furrows
intervened. I galloped over this, and beheld a broad silvery expanse,
shaded by steep banks and lofty trees. In this water no current was
perceptible, but the breadth and depth of channel far exceeded that of
the Namoi. Nevertheless this was not the Kindur as described by The
Barber, but evidently the Gwydir of Cunningham, as seen by him at a
higher part of its course. We were exactly in the latitude of the Gwydir,
the course of which was also westward. It was however a very new feature
of the country to us, and after so much privation, heat and exposure the
living stream and umbrageous foliage gave us a grateful sense of
abundance, coolness, and shade. Trees of great magnitude give a grandness
of character to any landscape, but especially to river scenery. The blue
gum (eucalyptus) luxuriates on the margin of rivers, and grows in such
situations to an enormous size. Such trees overhung the water of the
Gwydir, forming dense masses of shade, in which white cockatoos
(Plyctolophus galeritus) sported like spirits of light.
CROSS IT WITH ONE MAN.
As soon as I had fixed on the camp I forded the river, accompanied by
Woods carrying my rifle. The water where I crossed did not reach above
the ankle, but the steepness of the banks on each side was a great
obstacle to the passage of my horse. I proceeded due north, in search of
rising ground, but the whole country seemed quite level. After crossing
an open plain of about two miles in length, I entered a brush of Acacia
pendula, and soon after I arrived at an old channel or hollow scooped out
by floods.
PREVENTED BY A NATIVE WITH SPEARS FROM SHOOTING A KANGAROO.
As I approached a line of bushes I saw a kangaroo which sat looking at my
horse until we were very near it, and I was asking Woods whether he
thought we could manage to carry it back if I shot it; when my horse,
suddenly pricking his ears, drew my attention to a native, apparently
also intent on the kangaroo, and having two spears on his shoulder. On
perceiving me he stood and stared for a moment, then taking one step
back, and swinging his right arm in the air, he poised one of his spears,
and stood stretched out in an attitude to throw. He was a tall man,
covered with pipe-clay, and his position of defiance then, as he could
never have before seen a horse, was manly enough. It was not prudent to
retire at that moment, although I was most anxious to avoid a quarrel. I
therefore galloped my horse at the native, which had the desired effect;
for he immediately turned, and disappeared at a dog-trot among the
bushes.
RE-CROSS THE RIVER.
By going forward I gained a convenient cover, which enabled me to retire
upon the river without seeming to turn, as in fact I did, to avoid
further collision with the natives at so great a distance from the party.
The bed of the river was flat, and consisted of small pebbles, not much
worn by attrition, and mixed with sand. Many dead trees lay in parts of
the channel. The average breadth of the water was forty-five yards; the
breadth from bank to bank seventy-two yards; and the perpendicular height
of the banks above the water twenty-seven feet.
In the afternoon the natives appeared on the opposite bank, and were soon
after heard calling out "Witefellow, Witefellow." Dawkins advanced
quietly to the riverbank to speak to them and encourage them to cross;
but they disappeared as soon as they saw him.
The Barber had stated that the large river was the first water to be met
with after crossing the range in the direction of north-east by north
from Tangulda. We had reached the country beyond that range by going
round it; and had at length found, after crossing various dry channels,
not the great river described by him, but only the Gwydir of Cunningham.
It remained for me to trace this into the interior, as far as might be
necessary to ascertain its ultimate course; with the probability, also,
of discovering its junction with some river of greater importance.