THE BUSH IN THE INTERIOR.
It needs only a single glance at the map of New Holland to see that,
like most other countries, and even more than most others, the coasts
are well known, while the interior parts are comparatively undiscovered,
and, to a great extent, totally so. And, although a much more minute
description of the shores of this immense island might easily be given,
although we might accompany Flinders or King in their navigation of its
intricate seas, and survey of its long line of coast, yet this part of
the subject must necessarily be passed over without detaining us any
further. A very considerable portion of the sea-coast of New Holland is
not much unlike that in the Gulph of Carpentaria, in the north part of
the island, where, when Captain Flinders had reached the highest spot he
could find in 175 leagues of coast,--this loftiest hill did not much
exceed the height of the ship's masthead! And where the shores are not
of this exceedingly level character, they are usually sterile, sandy,
and broken, so as to offer rather an uninviting aspect to the stranger.
It is obvious that, in either case, whether the coast be flat or barren,
there may be many beautiful and lovely districts within a day's journey
inland; and nothing is more absurd than to take exception against the
whole of a country merely because its borders and boundaries are
forbidding. In the case of New Holland, it is true, the same sort of
barrenness extends itself very much into the interior of the land; but,
if we pursue the patient footsteps and daring discoveries of those few
Europeans who have penetrated far into its inland parts, we shall find
many interesting scenes described, and much both of the sublime and
beautiful in nature brought before us.
One of the principal scenes on which have been displayed the
perseverance and courage of the explorers of the interior is the banks
of the river Darling. This stream, which has its source on the western
side of the long range of mountains running parallel with the coast, and
called in the colony the Blue Mountains, carries off the drainage of an
immense extent of country, to the westward and north-westward of New
South Wales. In fact, except in the southern parts of that colony, where
the Lachlan and Murrumbidgee carry off the waters which do not fall
eastwards to the coast, all the streams that rise upon or beyond the
Blue Mountains, and take a westerly direction, finally meet together in
the basin of the Darling.[14] It might be imagined that a river into
which is carried the drainage of so extensive a district would be always
well supplied with water, and so it would be in other countries, but the
streams of New Holland are altogether different from those in other
parts of the world. Comparatively, indeed, the Darling does assert its
superiority over most of the other water-courses of that country; for,
at a season when their channels were, in general, absolutely without
water, or dwindled down into mere chains of muddy ponds, the Darling
still continued to wind its slow current, carrying a supply of excellent
water through the heart of a desert district. Along the weary plains
by which its course is bounded, it proceeds for not less than 660
miles,[15] without receiving, so far as is known, a single tributary
stream; and, from its waters being occasionally salt, it is supposed to
owe its support, in its reduced state during very dry seasons, chiefly
to natural springs. Its bed is, on an average, about sixty feet below
the common surface of the country. There are no traces of water-courses
on the level plains, and it would appear that, whatever moisture
descends from the higher grounds, which (where there are any at all,)
are seldom less than twelve miles from the Darling, must be taken up by
the clayey soil, so as scarcely to find its way down to the river,
except it be by springs. The average breadth of the stream at the
surface, when low, is about fifty yards, but oftener less than this, and
seldom more. The fall of the country through which it passes, in that
part of its course through the interior, which was first explored by
Major Mitchell, is very trifling; and it is the opinion of that officer,
that the swiftness of its course never exceeds one mile per hour, but
that it is in general much less. At the time of the Major's expedition,
the water actually flowing, as seen at one or two shallow places, did
not exceed in quantity that which would be necessary to turn a mill.
But, with all this scantiness of supply during the dry season then
prevailing,[16] the marks of tremendous inundations were plain upon the
surface of the country, frequently extending two miles back from the
ordinary channel of the waters. And everywhere the banks of the river
displayed the effect of floods in parallel lines, marking on the smooth
sloping earth the various heights to which the waters had at different
periods arisen. The surface of the plains nearest the river is unlike
any part of the earth's face that the travellers had elsewhere seen. It
was clear of vegetation, like a fallow-field, but less level, and quite
full of holes, big enough to receive the whole leg, and sometimes the
body, of the unfortunate persons who might slip into them. Galloping or
trotting in such a country was out of the question, and as the surface
of this dry and cracked soil was soft and loose, it was very fatiguing
for draught. Six of the bullocks accompanying the expedition never
returned from the Darling. Yet, how much preferable was the country,
even in this state, to that in which a flood would have placed it; for,
had rainy weather, or any overflowing of the river, happened, travelling
upon the banks of the Darling would have become absolutely impossible.
[14] Although the basin of this river extends so far towards the east,
on its westerly bank, that is, _towards the interior_, a desert country
stretches itself to an unknown distance, from which it does not appear
to receive any increase of its waters at all deserving of notice. From
two hills, seventy miles apart, extensive views were gained of this
western desert, in which no smoke was seen, indicating the presence of
natives, nor even any appearance of trees; the whole country being
covered with a thick bush or scrub. For the four winter months spent
by Mitchell near the Darling, neither rain nor yet dew fell, and the
winds from the west and north-west, hot and parching, seemed to blow
over a region in which no humidity remained.
[15] So in Major Mitchell's work, vol. i. p. 298; but the same author
is quoted (more correctly it would seem from the map), by Montgomery
Martin, as stating that "The Darling does not, in a course of _three_
hundred miles, receive a single river."--See MARTIN'S _New South
Wales_, p. 82.
[16] By _dry season_, or _wet season_, in Australia, we are not to
understand, as in England, a _dry_ or _wet summer_, but a series of
_dry_ or _wet years_. At the very bottom of some of the dried-up lakes
were found sapling trees of ten years' growth, which had evidently been
killed by the return of the waters to their long-forsaken bed.
But the river Darling itself, though it appears as a principal and
independent stream during so long a course, is, we have little reason to
doubt, no more than an important tributary to the chief of Australian
rivers, the Murray. This last channel collects eventually all the waters
flowing in a westward direction upon the eastern side of New Holland,
between the latitudes of 28 deg. S. and 36 deg. S. The Darling, the
Lachlan, and the Murrumbidgee, without mentioning streams of minor
importance, all find their way southwards into the basin of the Murray,
which is really a noble river, and does not seem subject to the same
deplorable impoverishment, which most of the others suffer in very dry
seasons. It was very earnestly anticipated that the mouth of a stream
like this would probably form a good harbour, and thus afford a reasonable
prospect of its hereafter becoming a busy navigable river, the means of
furnishing inland communication to a considerable distance. This is, of
all things, what New Holland appears most to want, but the want is not
(as we shall shortly find) adequately supplied by the entrance to the
Murray. A like failure occurs at the entrance of other Australian
rivers, as in the instance of a much smaller but very beautiful stream,
the Glenelg, which falls into a shallow basin within the sandy hills of
the southern coast, the outlet being between two rocky heads, but choked
up with the sands of the beach. We cannot, while we read of the scanty
means of inland navigation, with which it has pleased Divine Providence
to favour an island so enormous as New Holland, but feel thankful for
the abundant advantages of this kind which our own native islands
possess; but at the same time there is no reason to despair, even yet,
of a navigable river being discovered in New Holland;[17] or, at the
worst, the modern invention of rail-roads may supersede, in a great
measure, the need of other communication.
[17] "I have myself no doubt that a large navigable river will yet be
discovered, communicating with the interior of Australia."--M. MARTIN'S
_New South Wales_, p. 99.
It would be impossible to compress into a moderate compass the various
interesting particulars, which have been related of the rivers of New
Holland and their neighbouring districts; but for this and much other
pleasing information the reader may be referred, once for all, to the
works of those travellers, whose names have been already so frequently
mentioned. It is a curious fact that almost every stream of the least
consequence in New Holland, appears to have its peculiar features, and a
character and scenery of its own, which continue throughout its course,
so that it could often be recognised by travellers coming upon it a
second time, and at a different part of its career towards the sea.
The beautifully-timbered plains, or the limestone cliffs of the noble
Murray--the naked plains that bound on either side the strip of
forest-trees of huge dimensions, by which the Lachlan is bordered,--the
constantly full stream, the water-worn and lightly-timbered banks, the
clear open space between the river and its distant margin of reeds,
which mark the character of the Murrumbidgee,--the low grassy banks or
limestone rocks, the cascades and caverns, the beautiful festoons of
creeping plants, the curious form of the duck-billed platypus,[18] which
are to be found on the Glenelg; the sandstone wastes of the Wollondilly,
the grassy surface of the pretty Yarrayne,[19] with its trees on its
brink instead of on its bank; the peculiar grandeur of the tremendous
ravine, 1,500 feet in depth, down which the Shoalhaven flows; these and
many more remarkable features of scenery in the Australian rivers, would
afford abundance of materials for description either in poetry or prose.
But we can now notice only one more peculiarity which most of these
streams exhibit; they have, at a greater or less distance from their
proper channels, secondary banks, beyond which floods rarely or never
are known to extend. In no part of the habitable world is the force of
contrast more to be observed than in Australia. A very able scientific
writer[20] has ingeniously represented three persons travelling in
certain directions across Great Britain, and finishing their journeys
with three totally different impressions of the soil, country, and
inhabitants; one having passed through a rocky and mining district, the
second through a coal country peopled by manufacturers, and a third
having crossed a chalky region devoted entirely to agriculture. An
observation of this kind is even still more true of New Holland. And,
consequently, when, instead of _pursuing_ the course of certain similar
lines of country, the traveller _crosses_ these, the changes that take
place in the appearance and productions of the various districts are
exceedingly striking and follow sometimes in very rapid succession. A
few examples of these contrasts, which arise in Australia from the
nature of the seasons, as well as from that of the soil or climate, may
here be noticed. How great a change did the exploring party under Major
Mitchell experience, when, after tracing for forty-nine days the dry bed
of the Lachlan, they suddenly saw a magnificent stream of clear and
running water before them, and came upon the Murrumbidgee. Its banks,
unlike those of the former channel, were clothed with excellent grass;
a pleasing sight for the cattle--and it was no slight satisfaction to
their possessors to see the jaded animals, after thirsting so long among
the muddy holes of the Lachlan, drinking at this full and flowing
stream. And yet, so different are the series of seasons, at intervals,
that, down the very river of which Mitchell speaks in 1836 as a deep,
dry ravine, containing only a scanty chain of small ponds, the boats of
its first explorer, Mr. Oxley, had, in 1817, floated during a space of
fifteen days, until they had reached a country almost entirely flooded,
and the river seemed completely to lose itself among the shallow waters!
During the winter of 1835, the whale-boats were drawn by the exploring
party 1,600 miles over land,[21] without finding a river, where they
could be used; whereas, in 1817 and 1818, Mr. Oxley had twice retired
by nearly the same routes, and in the same season of the year, from
supposed inland seas![22] So that, in fact, we rise from the perusal
of two accounts of travellers of credit, both exploring the very same
country, with the impression, from one statement, that there exists an
endless succession of swamps, or an immense shallow, inland lake; where,
from the other, we are taught to believe, there is nothing but a sandy
desert to be found, or dry and cracked plains of clay, baked hard by the
heat of the sun.
[18] This remarkable animal, called also the Ornithorynchus, is
peculiar to Australia, it has the body of a beast combined with the
mouth and feet of a duck, is to be seen frequently on the banks of the
Glenelg, and that unusually near the coast.
[19] Water is proverbially "unstable," but what occurred to Major
Mitchell's party on the Yarrayne, may serve for a specimen of the
peculiar uncertainty of the waters of Australia. In the evening a bridge
across that stream had been completed, and everything was prepared for
crossing it, but in the morning of the following day no bridge was to be
seen, the river having risen so much during the night, although no rain
had fallen, that the bridge was four feet under water, and at noon the
water had risen fourteen feet,--a change that could only be accounted
for by the supposed melting of the snow near the sources of the stream.
[20] See Professor Buckland's Bridgewater Treatise, vol. i.
Introduction, pp. 1, 2.
[21] See Mitchell's Three Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. p. 13.
[22] See Oxley's Journal, pp. 103, 244.
Changes of this sort in the seasons, affecting so powerfully the
appearance of whole districts, cannot but have a proportionable effect
on particular spots. Regent's Lake, the "noble lake," as its first
discoverer, Oxley, called it, was, when Mitchell visited it, for the
most part, a plain covered with luxuriant grass;[23] some good water, it
is true, lodged on the most eastern extremity, but nowhere to a greater
depth than a foot. There ducks and swans, in vast numbers, had taken
refuge, and pelicans stood high upon their legs above the remains of
Regent's Lake. On its northern margin, and within the former boundary
of the lake, stood dead trees of a full-grown size, which had been
apparently killed by too much water, plainly showing to what long
periods the extremes of drought and moisture have extended, and may
again extend, in this singular country. And some of the changes in
scenery, within a short distance, and frequently arising from the same
causes, the presence or absence of water, are very remarkable. In Major
Mitchell's journal, at the date of April 10th, may be found the
following observations: "We had passed through valleys, on first
descending from the mountains, where the yellow oat-grass resembled a
ripe crop of grain. But this resemblance to the emblem of plenty, made
the desolation of these hopeless solitudes only the more apparent,
abandoned, as they then were, alike by man, beast, and bird. No living
thing remained in these valleys, for water, that element so essential to
life, was a want too obvious in the dismal silence, (for not an insect
hummed,) and the yellow hues of withering vegetation." On the next page
of the journal, under the events of the following day, what a contrast
appears:--"The evening was beautiful; the new grass springing in places
where it had been burnt, presented a shining verdure in the rays of the
descending sun; the songs of the birds accorded here with other joyous
sounds, the very air seemed alive with the music of animated nature, so
different was the scene in this well-watered valley, from that of the
parched and silent region from which we had just descended. The natives,
whom we met here, were fine-looking men, enjoying contentment and
happiness, within the precincts of their native woods." They were very
civil, and presented a burning stick to the strangers, at the moment
when they saw that they wanted fire, in a manner expressive of welcome
and of a wish to assist them. At a distance were the native fires, and
the squalling of children might be heard, until at night the beautiful
moon came forth, and the soft notes of a flute belonging to one of the
Englishmen fell agreeably on the ear, while the eye was gratified by the
moonbeams, as they gleamed from the trees, amid the curling smoke of the
temporary encampment. The cattle were refreshing themselves in green
pastures. It was Saturday night, and next day the party was to rest. How
sweet a spot to repose from their toils and sufferings, and to lift up
their hearts towards the mercy-seat of Him,--
"Who, in the busy crowded town,
Regards each suppliant's cry;--
Who, whether Nature smile or frown,
Man's wants can still supply."
[23] Another lake, called Walljeers, at no very great distance
from this, was found, with its whole expanse of about four miles in
circumference, entirely covered with a sweet and fragrant plant,
somewhat like clover, and eaten by the natives. Exactly resembling
new-made hay in the perfume which it gives out even when in the freshest
state of verdure, it was indeed "sweet to sense and lovely to the eye"
in the heart of a desert country.
One of the greatest victories over natural difficulties that was ever
gained by British courage and perseverance, was the exploring of the
course of the Morrumbidgee and Murray rivers by Captain Sturt and his
party, in the year 1830; and since their route was through a new
country, and their descent from the high lands south-westward of Sydney,
to the southern coast of New Holland was an amazing enterprise to
project, much more to accomplish, an abridged account of it may not be
unacceptable to the reader. And when it is remembered that the sight of
the gallant officer commanding this expedition, was sacrificed almost
entirely to "the effect of exposure and anxiety of mind in the
prosecution of geographical researches,"[24] this fact may add to the
interest which we feel in his adventures. The Murrumbidgee is a river
which runs westerly from the district called Yass Plains, situated very
nearly at the south-western extremity of New South Wales. It was for
the purpose of exploring the course of this fine stream, that Captain
Sturt was sent out at the latter end of 1829, and he had reached by
land-conveyance a swampy region exactly resembling those marshes in
which the Lachlan and Macquarie rivers had been supposed by Mr. Oxley to
lose themselves. To proceed further by land was impossible, and, since
they had brought with them a whale-boat, which had been drawn by oxen
for many a weary mile, it was resolved to launch this on the river, a
smaller boat was built in seven days only, and both boats being laden
with necessaries, and manned with six hands, arrangements were made for
forming a depot, and the rest of the party were sent back; and when the
explorers thus parted company in the marshy plains of the Morrumbidgee,
it appeared doubtful even to themselves whether they were ever likely to
meet again in this world. Of the country, whither the stream would carry
the little crew of adventurers, literally nothing was known. There
might be a vast inland sea,--and then how could they hope with their
frail barks to navigate it in safety for the very first time? Or, even
if they did so, how were they to force their way back again to the
remote dwelling-places of civilised man? The river might gradually waste
itself among the morasses; and then, with their boats become useless for
want of depth of water, how were they to walk across those endless
levels of soft mud? or, supposing that to be practicable, how were their
provisions to be conveyed, or whence, then, except from their boats,
could they hope for a supply? Questions of this nature must have offered
themselves to the minds of the daring spirits, who accompanied Captain
Sturt; nor can due justice be rendered to their courage without a
careful consideration of the dangers which they deliberately braved.
[24] See Sturt's Expeditions in Australia, vol. i. Dedication, p. 4.
Two oars only were used in the whale-boat, to the stern of which the
skiff was fastened by a rope; but the progress of the party down the
river was rapid. Having passed, in the midst of the marshes, the mouth
of a considerable stream (supposed to be the Lachlan, here emptying its
waters out from the midst of those swamps wherein it appeared to Mr.
Oxley to be lost,) on the second day of their journey the voyagers met
with an accident that had nearly compelled them to return. The skiff
struck upon a sunken log, and, immediately filling, went down in about
twelve feet of water. Damage was done to some of the provisions, and
many tools were thrown overboard, though these were afterwards regained
by means of diving and great labour, and the skiff was got up again. In
the very same night a robbery was committed by the natives; and a
frying-pan, three cutlasses, and five tomahawks, with the pea of the
steelyards--altogether no small loss in the Australian desert--were
carried off. The country in this part is "a waving expanse of reeds,
and as flat as possible," and the river, instead of increasing in its
downward course, seemed rather to be diminishing. After some days,
however, the party had passed through this flooded region, and reached a
boundless flat, with no object for the eye to rest upon, beyond the dark
and gloomy woods by which it was occupied. Several rapids occurred in
the river; and, during great part of two days the channel was so narrow
and so much blocked up with huge trees, that, in spite of every effort,
the adventurers were expecting their boat every moment to strike. For
two hours in the afternoon of the second of these days of anxiety, the
little vessels were hurried rapidly along the winding reaches of the
Morrumbidgee, until suddenly they found themselves borne upon the bosom
of a broad and noble river, in comparison with which that which they had
just quitted bore the appearance of an insignificant opening! The width
of the large stream thus discovered was about 350 feet, and its depth
from 12 to 20 feet, whilst its banks, although averaging 18 feet in
height, were evidently subject to floods. The breadth of rich soil
between its outer and inner banks was very inconsiderable, and the upper
levels were poor and sandy. As the party descended, the adjoining
country became somewhat higher and a little undulating, and natives
were seen, while the Murray (for such was the name given to their new
discovery) improved upon them every mile they proceeded. Four natives
of a tribe with which they had met followed them, as guides, for some
distance, and, after having nearly lost their largest boat upon a rock
in the midst of a rapid, the British travellers continued their onward
course, and a sail was hoisted for the first time, in order to save, as
much as was possible, the strength of the men.
The country in this part of their voyage was again very low, and they
fell in with a large body of savages, with whom they were on the point
of being forced, in self-defence, to have a deadly encounter, when
suddenly the four natives who had accompanied them appeared running at
full speed, and, through their assistance, though not without some
difficulty, bloodshed was prevented. Very shortly after this adventure,
when the men had just pushed their boat off from a shoal, upon which it
had struck, they noticed a new and considerable stream coming from the
north, and uniting its waters with those of the Murray. Upon landing on
the right bank of the newly-discovered stream, the natives came swimming
over from motives of curiosity; and there were not less than 600 of
these, belonging to some of the most ferocious tribes in Australia,
surrounding eight Englishmen--Captain Sturt, his friend M'Leay, and the
crew--which last had been preserved by an almost miraculous intervention
of Providence in their favour. The boat was afterwards pulled a few
miles up the recently-discovered river, which is reasonably supposed to
have been the Darling, from whose banks, some hundreds of miles higher
up, Captain Sturt had twice been forced to retire in a former
expedition. Its sides were sloping and grassy, and overhung by
magnificent trees; in breadth it was about 100 yards, and in depth
rather more than twelve feet, and the men pleased themselves by
exclaiming, upon entering it, that they had got into an English river. A
net extending right across the stream at length checked their progress;
for they were unwilling to disappoint the numbers who were expecting
their food that day from this source. So the men rested on their oars in
the midst of the smooth current of the Darling, the Union-Jack was
hoisted, and, giving way to their feelings, all stood up in the boat,
and gave three distinct cheers. "The eye of every native along the
banks had been fixed upon that noble flag, at all times a beautiful
object," says Captain Sturt, "and to them a novel one, as it waved
over us in the heart of a desert. They had, until that moment, been
particularly loquacious, but the sight of that flag and the sound
of our voices hushed the tumult; and while they were still lost in
astonishment, the boat's head was speedily turned, the sail was sheeted
home, both wind and current were in our favour, and we vanished from
them with a rapidity that surprised even ourselves, and which precluded
every hope of the most adventurous among them to keep up with us."[25]
[25] Sturt's Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. pp. 109, 110.
Cheered with the gratification of national feeling thus powerfully
described, the patient crew returned to their toils in descending the
Murray, whose banks continued unchanged for some distance; but its
channel was much encumbered with timber, some very large sand-banks
were seen, and several rapids were passed. The skiff being found more
troublesome than useful, was broken up and burned. On one occasion,
during a friendly interview with some of the savages, some clay was
piled up, as a means of inquiring whether there were any hills near; and
two or three of the blacks, catching the meaning, pointed to the N. W.,
in which direction two lofty ranges were seen from the top of a tree,
and were supposed to be not less than 40 miles distant, but the country
through which the Murray passed still continued low.
The heat was excessive and the weather very dry, while the banks of the
river appeared to be thickly peopled for Australia, and the British
strangers contrived to keep upon good terms with the natives. After
having passed one solitary cliff of some height, they met with stormy
weather for a few days, and several tributary streams of some size were
perceived mingling their waters with those of the Murray, the left bank
of which became extremely lofty, and, though formed almost wholly of
clay and sand, it bore the appearance of columns or battlements, the
sand having been washed away in many places, while the clay was left
hollowed out more like the work of art than of nature. After a continued
descent of 22 days, the party, who were pleased with the noble character
of the river upon which they were, though disappointed at the poverty of
the country through which it passed, began to grow somewhat weary; but
upon inquiries being made of the natives no tidings could be gained
respecting their approach towards the sea. The navigation of every
natural stream is rendered tedious, though beautiful, by its devious
course, but, "what with its regular turns, and its extensive sweeps, the
Murray covers treble the ground, at a moderate computation, that it
would occupy in a direct course." The current became weaker, and the
channel deeper, as they proceeded down the stream, and the cliffs of
clay and sand were succeeded by others of a very curious formation,
being composed of shells closely compacted together, but having the
softer parts so worn away, that the whole cliff bore in many places the
appearance of human skulls piled one upon the other. At first, this
remarkable formation did not rise more than a foot above the water, but
within ten miles from this spot it exceeded 150 feet in height, the
country in the vicinity became undulating, and the river itself was
confined in a glen whose extreme breadth did not exceed half a mile. An
old man, a native, was met with hereabouts, who appeared by his signs
to indicate that the explorers were at no great distance from some
remarkable change. The old man pointed to the N. W., and then placed
his hand on the side of his head, in token, it was supposed, of their
sleeping to the N. W. of the spot where they were. He then pointed due
south, describing by his action, the roaring of the sea, and the height
of the waves. A line of cliffs, from two to three hundred feet in
height, flanked the river upon alternate sides, but the rest of the
country was level, and the soil upon the table-land at the top of the
cliffs very poor and sterile. The next change of scenery brought them to
cliffs of a higher description, which continued on both sides of the
river, though not always close to it. The stream lost its sandy bed and
its current together, and became deep, still, and turbid, with a muddy
bottom; and the appearance of the water lashing against the base of the
cliffs reminded the anxious voyagers of the sea. The scenery became in
many places beautiful, and the river was never less than 400 yards in
breadth. Some sea-gulls were seen flying over the boat, and being hailed
as the messengers of good tidings, they were not permitted to be shot.
The adverse wind and the short, heavy waves rendered the labour at the
oar very laborious, but the hope of speedily gaining some noble inlet--a
harbour worthy to form the mouth of a stream like the Murray--encouraged
the crew to pull on manfully, and to disregard fatigue. The salt meat
was all spoiled, and had been given to the dogs; fish no one would eat,
and of wild fowl there was none to be seen; so that the provisions of
the party consisted of little else but flour. And already, though
hitherto they had been performing the easiest part of their task, having
had the stream in their favour, it was evident that the men were much
reduced, besides which they were complaining of sore eyes.
These circumstances all combined to increase the natural anxiety felt
by the little band of adventurers to reach the termination of the
Murray; and as its valley opened to two, three, and four miles of
breadth, while the width of the river increased to the third of a mile,
the expectations of the men toiling at the oar became proportionably
excited. The cliffs ceased, and gave place to undulating hills; no
pleasure-ground could have been more tastefully laid out than the
country to the right, and the various groups of trees, disposed upon the
sides of the elevations that bounded the western side of the valley,
were most ornamental. On the opposite side, the country was less
inviting, and the hills were bleak and bare. At length a clear horizon
appeared to the south, the direction in which the river was flowing;
Captain Sturt landed to survey the country, and beneath him was the
great object of his search, the termination of one of Australia's
longest and largest streams. Immediately below him was a beautiful lake,
of very large extent, and greatly agitated by the wind. Ranges of hills
were observed to the westward, stretching from north to south, and
distant forty miles. Between these hills and the place where the
traveller stood, the western bank of the Murray was continued in the
form of a beautiful promontory projecting into the lake, and between
this point and the base of the ranges the vast sheet of water before him
extended in the shape of a bay. The scene was altogether a very fine
one; but disappointment was a prevailing feeling in the mind of the
explorer, for it was most likely that there would be no practicable
communication for large ships between the lake and the ocean, and thus a
check was put upon the hopes that had been entertained of having at
length discovered a large and navigable river leading into the interior
of New Holland. The lake, called Lake Alexandrina, which was fifty
miles long and forty broad,[26] was crossed with the assistance of a
favourable wind; its waters were found to be generally very shallow, and
the long, narrow, and winding channel by which it communicates with the
ocean was found, as it had been feared, almost impracticable even for
the smallest vessels. This channel unites itself with the sea on the
south-western coast of New Holland, at the bottom of a bay named
Encounter Bay, one boundary of which is Cape Jervis, by which it is
separated from St. Vincent's Gulph,--the very part of the coast where a
ship was to be despatched by the Governor of New South Wales to afford
the party assistance, in case of their being successful in penetrating
to the sea-shore. Flour and tea were the only articles remaining of
their store of provisions, and neither of these were in sufficient
quantities to last them to the place where they expected to find fresh
supplies inland. But the first view of Encounter Bay convinced them that
no vessel could ever venture into it at a season when the S. W. winds
prevailed, and to the deep bight which it formed upon the coast (at the
bottom of which they then were), it was hopeless to expect any vessel to
approach so nearly as to be seen by them. To remain there was out of the
question; to cross the ranges towards the Gulph of St. Vincent, when the
men had no strength to walk, and the natives were numerous and not
peaceably disposed, was equally impossible. The passage from the lake
to the ocean was not without interruption, from the shallowness of the
sandy channel, otherwise Captain Sturt, in his little boat, would have
coasted round to Port Jackson, or steered for Launceston, in Van
Dieman's Land; and this he declares he would rather have done, could he
have foreseen future difficulties, than follow the course which he did.
Having walked across to the entrance of the channel, and found it quite
impracticable and useless, he resolved to return along the same route by
which he had come, only with these important additional difficulties to
encounter,--diminished strength, exhausted stores, and an adverse
current. The provisions were found sufficient only for the same number
of days upon their return as they had occupied in descending the river,
and speed was no less desirable in order to avoid encounters with the
natives than for the purpose of escaping the miseries of want; into
which, however, it was felt, a single untoward accident might in an
instant plunge them. With feelings of this description the party left
Lake Alexandrina and re-entered the channel of the Murray.
[26] The dimensions given in Captain Sturt's map. The South-Australian
Almanac states it to be sixty miles long, and varying in width from ten
to forty miles.
It will be needless to follow the explorers through all the particulars
of their journey upwards to the depot on the Morrumbidgee. The boat
struck, the natives were troublesome, the rapids difficult to get over;
but the worst of all their toils and trials were their daily labours and
unsatisfied wants. One circumstance ought, in justice to the character
of the men, to be noticed. They positively refused to touch six pounds
of sugar that were still remaining in the cask, declaring that, if
divided, it would benefit nobody, whereas it would last during some time
for the use of Captain Sturt and Mr. M'Leay, who were less able to
submit to privations than they were. After having continued for no less
than fifty-five days upon the waters of the Murray, it was with great
joy that they quitted this stream, and turned their boat into the gloomy
and narrow channel of the Morrumbidgee. Having suffered much privation,
anxiety, and labour, and not without one or two unpleasant encounters
with the natives, at length the party reached their depot, but they
found it deserted! During seventy-seven days they could not have
pulled, according to Captain Sturt's calculation, less than 2000 miles;
and now, worn out by fatigue and want, they were compelled to proceed
yet further, and to endure, for some time longer, the most severe
privations to which man can be exposed. But, under the guidance of
Divine Providence, the lives of all were preserved, and now the reward
of their deeds of heroism is willingly bestowed upon them. Among the
boldest exploits ever performed by man, the descent of Captain Sturt and
his companions down the Murray, and their return to the same spot again,
may deserve to be justly ranked.[27] Nor, however disappointing the
result of their examination of the mouth of the Murray may have been,
was their daring adventure without its useful consequences. The lake
Alexandrina is said to be navigable across for vessels drawing six feet
of water, and the entrance to the sea, though rather difficult in heavy
weather, is safe in moderate weather for vessels of the same size. The
Murray itself is navigable for steam-vessels for many hundred miles, and
probably it will not be very long before these modern inventions are
introduced upon its waters.
[27] For the account of this voyage, see Sturt's Expeditions in
Australia, vol. ii. pp. 72-221.
Whoever has seen any recent map of New Holland must have been struck
with the curious appearance of a vast semicircle of water, called Lake
Torrens, near the southern coast, and extending many miles inland from
the head of Spencer's Gulph. A range of hills, named Flinders' Range,
runs to a considerable distance inland, taking its rise near the head of
the gulph just mentioned, and Lake Torrens nearly surrounds the whole of
the low country extending from this mountainous ridge. This immense lake
is supposed to resemble in shape a horse-shoe, and to extend for full
400 miles, whilst its apparent breadth is from 20 to 30. The greater
part of the vast area contained in its bed is certainly dry on the
surface, and consists of a mixture of sand and mud, of so soft and
yielding a character as to render perfectly unavailing all attempts
either to cross it, or to reach the edge of the water, which appears to
exist at a distance of some miles from the outer margin. Once only was
Mr. Eyre, the enterprising discoverer of this singular lake, able to
taste of its waters, and then he found them as salt as the sea. The low,
miserable, desert country in the neighbourhood, and Lake Torrens itself,
act as a kind of barrier against the progress of inland discovery at
the back of the colony of South Australia, since it is impossible to
penetrate very far into the interior, without making a great circle
either to the east or to the west. The portion of the bed of the lake
which is exposed is thickly coated with particles of salt; there are few
trees or shrubs of any kind to be found near, nor are grass and fresh
water by any means abundant. Altogether, the neighbourhood of Lake
Torrens would seem a very miserable region, and forms a strong contrast
to the smiling and cultivated district of which it forms the back
country.[28]
[28] These particulars are taken from the South-Australian Almanac
for 1841, pp. 68-73.
Although Australia, in its natural and uncultivated state, abounds in
trees, like most other wild countries, nevertheless, there are vast and
extensive tracts where the plains are entirely bare, or covered only
with a low, thick, and often prickly, bush, or else are what is termed
"open forest," that is, are dotted about with fine trees, dispersed in
various groups, and resembling the scenery of an English park. The
greatest peculiarity of the native forests appears to be, that the
whole of their trees and shrubs are evergreen,[29] although European
trees will flourish in the land of the south without acquiring this
peculiarity, or losing their deciduous character. But it is rather a
subject of complaint against the woods of New Holland, that they have
very little picturesque effect in them, which may be partly owing to
the poverty of the foliage of the prevailing tree, the _eucalyptus_,
(commonly called the _iron-bark_, or _blue gum_, according to its
species,) which seldom has anything ornamental to landscape, either in
the trunk or branches. These sombre trees are, however, very useful for
timber, and they grow to an astonishing height, often rearing up their
lofty heads to 150 feet or upwards. The woods, in general, are very
brittle, partly, it may be, owing to the number of acacias which are to
be found among them; and no experienced bushman likes to sleep under
trees, especially during high winds. We must by no means form our ideas
of the appearance of an Australian forest from that of the neat and trim
woods of our own country, where every single branch or bough, and much
more every tree, bears a certain value. Except that portion which is
required for fuel or materials by an extremely scattered population in a
very mild climate, there is nothing carried off from the forests, and,
were it not for the frequent and destructive fires which the natives
kindle in many parts, no check worth mentioning would be placed upon the
natural increase and decay of the woods of New Holland. The consequence
of this is, that trees are to be seen there in every stage of growth or
ruin; and, occasionally, in very thickly-planted spots, the surface of
the ground is not a little encumbered by the fallen branches and trunks
of the ancient ornaments of the forest. Nor is it by the hand of Time
alone that these marks of destruction are scattered about in the vast
woodlands; the breath of a tremendous storm will occasionally
accomplish, perhaps, as much in a few hours as natural decay would in
many years.[30] Altogether, the forests of Australia may be said to be
in a purely natural state, and thus do they offer to the eye of the
inquiring traveller many objects less pleasing, it may be, but
nevertheless more sublime and solemn, than those with which the woods
of more cultivated countries commonly abound.
[29] See Wentworth's Australasia, vol. i. p. 3.
[30] See Account of the Effects of a Storm at Mount Macedon,
(Mitchell's "Three Expeditions," vol. ii. p. 283.)
To travel without any beaten track through a country clothed, in many
parts, very thickly, by forests like those just described, is in itself
no easy undertaking, and the operation of hewing a way for a mile or two
through the surrounding woods, during the very heat of the day, and
sometimes after a long march, is very trying. But when the exposure
to burning thirst, and to the uncertain disposition of the native
inhabitants is added, the patient endurance of successful explorers
is still more strongly displayed. Nor, although it be only a minor
annoyance, must the pain and inconvenience felt by wanderers in the
bush from the prickly grass, which is found abundantly in the sandy
districts, be forgotten. In those barren sands, where no grass grows,
there are frequently tufts of a prickly bush, which tortures the horses,
and tears to pieces the clothes of the men about their ankles, if they
are walking. This bush, called the prickly grass, and a dwarf tree, the
_Eucalyptus dumosa_, grows only where the soil appears too barren and
loose for anything else; indeed, were it not for these, the sand would
probably drift away, and cover the vegetation of neighbouring spots less
barren and miserable. Against this evil, nature seems to have provided
by the presence of two plants so singularly fitted for a soil of this
description. The root of the _Eucalyptus dumosa_ resembles that of a
large tree; but it has no trunk, and only a few branches rise above
the ground, forming an open kind of bush, often so low that a man on
horseback may look over it for miles. This dwarf tree, and the prickly
grass together, occupy the ground, and seem intended to bind down the
sands of Australia. The size of the roots prevents the bush from growing
very close together, and the stems being without leaves, except at the
top, this kind of _Eucalyptus_ is almost proof against the running fires
of the bush. The prickly grass resembles, at a distance, in colour and
form, an overgrown lavender plant, but the blades of it, consisting of
sharp spikes, occasion most cruel annoyance both to men and horses.
Another inconvenience and danger to which exploring parties are liable,
are those fires in the bush already alluded to; which, whether caused by
accident, or designedly by the natives, are not uncommon events.[31]
"The country seemed all on fire around us."--"All the country beyond the
river was in flames; 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
extensively at great distances in the interior, and the sultry air
seemed heated by the general conflagration;" these expressions convey
rather alarming ideas of the dangers to which travellers are exposed in
the bush, and from which it is not always easy to make good an escape.
[31] On one occasion the progress of the fire was _against the wind_.
See this stated and explained by Major Mitchell, "Three Expeditions,"
vol. i. p. 19.
It may have been observed, possibly, in what has been related of the
country and scenery of New Holland in its natural state, that the
descriptions of very beautiful or fertile spots have been comparatively
few. Now, although it is true that a very large portion of the known
surface of that island is occupied by the sandstone rock, which is in
its very nature utterly barren, nevertheless, it is by no means to
be supposed that there is any scarcity of most rich and beautiful
land--some of it fit for immediate occupation--to be found in most
parts of Australia. In attempting to draw a picture of a distant and
remarkable region, we are almost sure to mark and bring distinctly out
its most peculiar and striking features; the scenes resembling those of
our own quiet and happy land are passed over as tame and familiar, while
the dreariness of the desert, the horrors of a "barren and dry land
where no water is,"--the boundless plains, or the bare mountain-tops,
the lonely shore or the rocky isle--scenes like these, are commonly
dwelt upon and described. In short, the very spots which are least
enticing, _in reality_, for the colonist to settle in, are often most
agreeable, _in description_, for the stranger to read of.
But, since the reader must not be left with the erroneous and unpleasant
impression that the country of which we have been treating is, for the
most part, a mere wilderness, if not a desert, we may select two
recently-discovered districts of it to serve for a favourable specimen
of the beauty and fertility of many others, which cannot now be noticed.
The following description of Wellington Valley (now recently included in
the limits of the colony,) is from the pen of its first discoverer, Mr.
Oxley, and other travellers bear witness that it is not overcharged: "A
mile and a half brought us into the valley which we had seen on our
first descending into the glen: imagination cannot fancy anything more
beautifully picturesque than the scene which burst upon us. The breadth
of the valley, to the base of the opposite gently-rising hills, was
between three and four miles, studded with fine trees, upon a soil which
for richness can nowhere be exceeded; its extent, north and south, we
could not see: to the west, it was bounded by the lofty rocky ranges by
which we had entered it; these were covered to the summit with cypresses
and acacias in full bloom, and a few trees in bright green foliage gave
additional beauty to the scene. In the centre of this charming valley
ran a strong and beautiful stream, its bright, transparent waters
dashing over a gravelly bottom, intermingled with large stones, forming
at short intervals considerable pools, in which the rays of the sun
were reflected with a brilliancy equal to that of the most polished
mirror. The banks were low and grassy, with a margin of gravel and
pebble-stones; there were marks of flood to the height of about twelve
feet, when the river would still be confined within its secondary banks,
and not overflow the rich lands that bordered it. Its usual width is 200
feet; in times of flood it would be from 600 to 800 feet."[32]
[32] See Oxley's Journals, pp. 184-7.
In Australia Felix, as it has been called by its discoverer, Major
Mitchell, which is a much larger district than that just described,
almost every earthly delight and advantage would likewise seem to have
combined to make it a perfect dwelling-place for man. The temperate and
mild climate; the neighbourhood of the sea; the variety and fertility of
its surface; the ranges of lofty and picturesque mountains by which it
is backed; the number of rivers, small and large, by which it is
watered; the comparatively open nature of the country, yet not without
an ample supply of timber close at hand; all these and other advantages
unite in rendering Australia Felix one of the most desirable spots upon
the face of the globe. And the beauties and blessings of a spot like
this, must have stood forth in bold contrast with the dreary, lifeless
plains of the Darling, or Lachlan, which the discoverers of Australia
Felix had so long been engaged in exploring. One of the first harbingers
of the better country, to which the travellers were drawing near, was a
very curious height, called Pyramid Hill, which is formed of granite,
and, being a triangular pyramid, standing quite alone, closely resembles
the monuments of ancient Egypt. It rises 300 feet above the surrounding
plain; its point consists of a single block of granite, and the view
over the neighbouring country was exceedingly beautiful. The scene was
different from anything the travellers had elsewhere witnessed. "A land
so inviting, and still without inhabitants![33] As I stood," continues
the explorer, warming with the thoughts of his discovery, "the first
European intruder on the sublime solitude of these verdant plains, as
yet untouched by flocks or herds, I felt conscious of being the
harbinger of mighty changes; and that our steps would soon be followed
by the men and animals for which it seemed to have been prepared."
Twelve days afterwards, the whole of which had been spent in traversing
a district rich and lovely in the extreme, the first view of a noble
range of mountains (the Grampians) was obtained; they rose in the south
to a stupendous height, and presented as bold and picturesque an outline
as ever painter imagined.[34] And, during a journey of many days, the
same rich and sublime scenery still appeared, mingled together in
beautiful and endless variety. Every day the party of travellers passed
over land which, for natural fertility and beauty, could scarcely be
surpassed; over streams of unfailing abundance, and plains covered with
the richest pasturage. Stately trees and majestic mountains adorned the
ever-varying landscape, the most southern region of all Australia, and
the best. On the river Glenelg, which was discovered about a month after
they had left Pyramid Hill, the land appeared everywhere alike good,
alike beautiful; whether on the finely-varied hills, or in the equally
romantic vales, which opened in endless succession on both banks of the
river. Further on in this lovely district, the British explorers came
upon fresh scenes of surpassing sweetness. A small party of them were
out upon an excursion, when they perceived before them a ridge in the
blue distance--rather an unusual object in that close country. They soon
after quitted the wood through which they had been passing, and found
that they were on a kind of table-land, approaching a deep ravine coming
from their right, which terminated on a very fine-looking open country
below, watered by a winding river. They descended by a bold projection
to the bottom of the ravine, and found there a foaming little river,
hurrying downwards over rocks. After fording this stream, they ascended
a very steep but grassy mountain-side, and, on reaching a brow of high
land, a noble prospect appeared; a river winding among meadows that were
fully a mile broad, and green as an emerald. Above them rose swelling
hills of fantastic shapes, but all smooth and thickly covered with rich
verdure. Behind these were higher hills, all having grass on their
sides, and trees on their summits, and extending east and west
throughout the landscaper as far as could be seen. After riding about
two miles along an entirely open, grassy ridge, the party again found
the Glenelg, flowing eastward towards an apparently much lower country.
The river was making for the coast, (turning southward some miles below
the hill on which they stood,) through a country far surpassing in
beauty and richness any part hitherto discovered.
[33] Not quite so; they soon fell in with a few of the scattered
wanderers of the bush.
[34] See the interesting account of Major Mitchell's ascent to Mount
William, the highest point of these hills.--MITCHELL'S _Three
Expeditions_, vol. ii. pp. 171-181.
What, in fact, is there wanting to the charming and extensive region
just described, or what to hundreds of other fruitful and lovely
districts under the power of the British crown, except _civilised
inhabitants_, and the establishment of _a branch of Christ's "one
Catholic and Apostolic Church_?" The population is ready, nay, even
redundant, in England; nor are the means deficient in a land abounding
beyond all others in wealthy capitalists. But the will, the wisdom, the
understanding heart, the united counsels, are, it is to be feared, and
are likely still to be, wanting with us. May that God who maketh men to
be of one mind in a house or nation, so dispose events, that in due time
the valleys and hills of Australia Felix may be dotted with churches,
and filled with faithful members of Christ! Then will it become a
_happy_ land indeed. Then may its inhabitants feel a lively interest,
both in the _social_ and _religious_ welfare of their country; and each
one may join, from the distant shores of the once unknown Southern Land,
in the holy aspirations of the Royal Prophet: "For my brethren and
companions' sakes I will wish thee prosperity. Yea, because of the house
of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee good."[35]
[35] Psalm cxxii. 8,9.