the horses in advance, I brought up the rear, driving the others before
me. Once again we had a long and arduous journey before us, and were
wending our lonely way through the unknown and untrodden wilds. We were,
however, in very different circumstances now, to what we had been in
previous to our meeting with the French ship. The respite we had had from
our labours, and the generous living we had enjoyed, had rendered us
comparatively fresh and strong. We had now with us an abundance, not only
of the necessaries, but of the luxuries of life; were better clothed, and
provided against the inclemency of the weather than we had been; and
entered upon the continuation of our undertaking with a spirit, an
energy, and a confidence, that we had long been strangers to.
From the great additional weight we had now to carry upon the horses, we
were again obliged to give up riding even in turn, and had both to walk.
This was comparatively of little consequence, however, now we were so
well provided with every thing we could require, and the country appeared
to be so well watered, that we could arrange our stages almost according
to our own wishes.
Steering to the north-west we passed over a sandy country, covered with
low heathy plants, and grasstrees, and having granite elevations
scattered over its surface at intervals. Under these hills fresh water
swamps and native wells were constantly met with, and at one of them we
encamped for the night, after a stage of about four miles.
During the day, we passed a variety of beautiful shrubs, and among them
were many different kind of Banksias, one was quite new to me, and had a
scarlet flower, which was very handsome. The fossil formation still
constituted the geological character of the country, most of the lower
ridges of rock intervening between the various hills of granite,
exhibiting shells in great abundance. In the more level parts, the
surface was so coated over with sand, that nothing else could be seen. I
have no doubt, however, that the whole of the substrata would have been
found an uninterrupted continuation of the tertiary deposit.
At night I observed native fires about a mile from us, in a direction
towards the sea; but the natives did not come near us, nor was I myself
anxious to come into communication with them whilst my party was so
small.
The evening had set in with steady rain, which continuing with little
intermission during the night, wet us considerably.
June 16.--This morning, I found I had caught cold, and was very unwell.
Upon leaving the encampment, we steered N. 30 degrees W. to clear a rocky
hill, passing which, on our left at six miles, we changed the course to
W. 10 degrees N. Three miles from the hill, we crossed a small stream of
brackish water running very strongly towards the sea, and then halted for
the day upon it, after a short stage. The country we had traversed in our
route, still consisted of the same sandy plains and undulations, covered
with low shrubs, heathy plants, grass and cabbage-trees, with here and
there elevations of granite, and fresh water swamps: in and around which,
the soil was black and very rich; very little wood was to be met with
anywhere, and nothing that deserved the appellation of trees.
The country, inland, appeared to rise gradually, but did not seem to
differ in character and features from that we were traversing.
June 17.--A little before daylight it commenced raining, and continued
showery all day, and though we got wet several times, we experienced
great comfort from the warm clothing we had obtained from Captain
Rossiter. Upon ascending the hills, above our camp, which confined the
waters of the little stream we were upon, we could trace its course
south-west by south, to a small lake lying in the same direction, and
which it appeared to empty into. A second small lake was observable to
the north-west of the first. Two and a half miles from our camp, we
passed a granite elevation, near which, were many fresh swamps,
permanently, I think, abounding in water and having much rich and grassy
land around, of which the soil was a deep black, and but little mixed
with sand. For the next three miles and a half, our route lay over a rich
swampy grassy land, and we were literally walking all the way in water
left by the rains; besides crossing in that distance two fresh water
streams, running strongly towards the sea, and both emptying into small
lakes seen under the coast ridges. The largest of these two was one yard
and a half wide and a foot deep, and appeared of a permanent character.
We now ascended an undulating and rather more elevated tract of country
of an oolitic limestone formation, most luxuriantly clothed with the
richest grass, and having several lakes interspersed among the hollows
between the ridges. Near this we halted for the night under some of the
coast sand-hills, after a day's stage of twelve miles. We had splendid
feed for our horses, but were without any water for ourselves, being
unable to carry any with us, as the canteens were full of treacle. From
our camp, a peak, near Cape le Grand, bore E. 33 degrees S.
June 18.--During the night heavy showers had fallen, and in the oilskins
we caught as much water as sufficed for our tea. After breakfast we
proceeded onwards, and at a little more than three miles came to the
borders of a large salt lake, lying southwest and north-east, and being
one of two noted by Captain Flinders as having been copied into his map
from a French chart. Following the borders of the lake for a mile we
found abundance of fresh water under the banks by which it was inclosed,
and which, judging from the rushes and grasses about it, and the many
traces of native encampments, I imagine to be permanent. The lake itself
was in a hollow sunk in the fossil formation, which was now very clearly
recognisable in the high banks surrounding the lake, and which varied
from sixty to a hundred and fifty feet in elevation, and were generally
pretty steep towards the shore. The day being fine I halted at this place
to re-arrange the loads of the horses and take bearings.
A year had now elapsed since I first entered upon the Northern
Expedition. This day twelve months ago I had left Adelaide to commence
the undertaking, cheered by the presence and good wishes of many friends,
and proudly commanding a small but gallant party--alas, where were they
now? Painful and bitter were the thoughts that occupied my mind as I
contrasted the circumstances of my departure then with my position now,
and when I reflected that of all whose spirit and enterprise had led them
to engage in the undertaking, two lone wanderers only remained to attempt
its conclusion.
June 19.--The dew was very heavy this morning, and we did not start until
rather late, travelling through a very grassy country, abounding in fresh
swamps of a soft peaty soil, and often with the broad flag-reed growing
in them. All these places were boggy and impassable for horses. In
attempting to cross one a horse sunk up to his haunches, and we had much
difficulty in extricating him. At five miles from our camp we ascended
some high ridges of an oolitic limestone formation, which were partially
covered by drift-sand, and in the distance looked like the ridge of a sea
shore. From their summit Cape le Grand bore E. 27 degrees S., the peak
called by the French the "Chapeau," E. 23 degrees S., and the head of the
salt-water lake E. 10 degrees S. We had now a succession of barren, sandy
and stony ridges for more than three miles, and as there was but little
prospect of our finding permanent water in such a miserable region, I
took the opportunity of halting at a little rain water deposited in a
hole of the rocks; here we procured enough for ourselves, but could not
obtain any for the horses. Our camp not being far from the coast, I
walked after dinner to the sand-hills to take bearings. Several islands
were visible, of which the centres were set at S. 10 degrees W., S. 26
degrees W., E. 41 degrees S., E. 44 degrees S. and S. 33 degrees E.
respectively; the west point of a bay bore S. 51 degrees W. the eastern
point E. 36 degrees S. Upon digging for water under the sand-hills it was
found to be salt.
June 20.--Rain fell lightly but steadily until one P.M., making it very
disagreeable travelling through the rugged and stony ridges we had to
encounter, and which were a good deal covered with scrub and brush. About
four miles from our camp of last night we crossed high stony ridges, and
immediately beyond came to some steep sand-drifts, among the hollows of
which I dug for water, but at five feet was stopped by rock. The scrubby,
hilly, and rugged nature of the back country, generally about three
hundred feet above the level of the sea, now compelled me to keep the
beach for five miles, from which I was then again driven by the hills
terminating abruptly towards the sea, and forcing me to scale a steep
stony range, which for four miles and a half kept us incessantly toiling
up one rugged ascent after another. We then came to an extensive hollow,
being a partial break in the fossil formation, and having two large lakes
and many smaller ones interspersed over its surface. Around the margins
of the lakes we again found timber--the tea-tree and the bastard gum. The
water in the lakes was salt, but some slight elevations of granite
afforded us in their hollows an abundance of water for ourselves and
horses. The traces of natives were numerous and recent, but yet we saw
none. Swans, ducks, and wild fowl of various kinds were in great numbers,
and kept up an unceasing noise at night whilst passing from one lake to
the other. Our stage had been twelve miles and a half, but the hilly and
rugged nature of the road had made it severe upon the horses, whilst the
wet overhead and the wet grass under our feet made it equally harassing
to ourselves. From our encampment some white drifts in the coast line
bore S. 35 degrees E., and probably were the "white streak in the
sand-hills" of Flinders.
June 21.--We did not get away until late, but the dew had been so heavy
during the night that even then the shrubs and bushes wet us completely
through, and made our journey cold and miserable. After travelling a
short distance we lost all symptoms of grass, and the country was again
sandy and barren, and covered with shrubs and heathy plants. In this
region we passed two native women and a boy, within gun-shot of us; but
as they were so intent upon their occupation of digging roots, and did
not notice us, I was unwilling to alarm them, and we passed silently by.
At six miles we came to a fine deep hole of excellent water about thirty
yards in circumference. It was situated in a narrow, short, but steep and
rocky gorge, and is, I think, permanent. Four miles beyond this we
crossed a chain of salt ponds, trending seawards, towards an apparent gap
in the coast-line; and six miles further another. Upon the latter we
halted for the night, as there was good grass for the horses, and
brackish water was procurable a little way up the stream, where it
divided into branches. The constant travelling in the wet for the last
few days began now to affect our limbs considerably, and upon halting at
nights we found our feet always much swollen, and our legs generally
stiff and cramped.
June 22.--A very heavy dew fell in the night, and we were again condemned
to wade for three hours up to our middle among the wet brush; after which
the day became fine, and we got our clothes dried. Travelling for two and
a half miles, we crossed another small brackish chain of ponds, and then
ascending rather higher ground, obtained a view of a large lake under the
sand-hills, into which the channel we encamped upon last night emptied
itself. The lake appeared as if it were deep, and its dark blue colour
led me to imagine there might be a junction with the sea towards the
south-west, where the low appearance of the coast ridge indicated a gap
or opening of some kind. At four miles from our last night's encampment
we were stopped by a large salt-water river, fully a hundred yards wide,
and increasing to three or four times that size as it trended to its
junction with the large lake, and which was visible from the hills above
the river. This river was deep where we first struck upon it, but
appeared to be much more so towards the lake, where the water was of a
dark blue colour, as was that also of the lake itself. This confirmed me
in my opinion that there must be a junction with the sea; but
unfortunately I was obliged to trace its course upwards, for the purpose
of crossing, and the circumstances under which I was travelling precluded
me from delaying, or going so far back out of my way to examine its
mouth. I dared not leave Wylie in charge of the camp for the time
necessary for me to have gone alone; and to take the horses such a
distance, and through a rough or heavy country, on the uncertainty of
procuring for them either grass or water, would have been a risk which,
in their condition, I did not think myself justified in incurring.
After tracing the river northerly for two miles and a half, I found it
divided into two branches, and though these were still of considerable
size, yet a ledge of rocks extending across the channels enabled us to
effect a passage to the other side. At the place where we crossed, the
stream running over the rocks was only slightly brackish, and we watered
our horses there; had we traced it a little further it might possibly
have been quite fresh, but we had no time for this, for Wylie having
taken charge of the horses but for a few moments, whilst I had been
examining the river for a crossing place, contrived to frighten them all
in some way or other, and set them off at a gallop; the result was, that
our baggage was greatly disturbed, and many things knocked off and
damaged, whilst it took us some time again to get our horses and
re-arrange the loads.
The valley through which the river took its course, was rocky, with
sheets of granite extending in many places to the water's edge. There was
abundance of good grass, however, and in its upper branches, probably,
there might have been some considerable extent of pasturage. The trees
growing upon the margin, were the paper-barked tea-tree, and the bastard
gum.
Leaving the river, and proceeding over an undulating sandy country,
without timber, but covered with shrubs, we passed at six miles between
two small lakes, and in three more descended to a deep valley among
granite rocks; here we encamped after a stage of sixteen miles, with
plenty of fresh water in pools, and very fair grass for the horses, about
a mile and a half before we halted, we had obtained a view to seawards,
and I set the "Rocky Islets" at a bearing of S. 25 degrees W.
The character of the country generally, through which we travelled
to-day, was very similar to that we had so long been traversing. Its
general elevation above the level of the sea, was about three hundred
feet, and to a distant observer, it seemed to be a perfect table land,
unbroken to the horizon, and destitute of all timber or trees, except
occasionally a few cabbage-trees, grass-trees, or minor shrubs; it was
also without grass. Upon crossing this region deep gorges or valleys are
met with, through which flow brackish or salt-water streams, and shading
these are found the tea-tree and the bastard gum. The steep banks which
inclose the valleys, through which the streams take their course, and
which until lately we had found of an oolitic limestone, now exhibited
granite, quartz, sandstone or iron-stone.
June 23.--Our horses having rambled some distance back upon our
yesterday's tracks, it was late when they were recovered, and we did not
get away until eleven. After travelling a mile and a half, we crossed a
stream of most excellent water running over a bed of granite, in which
were some large deep pools with reeds growing around their margins. A
branch of this watercourse was crossed a little further on, but was quite
dry where we passed it.
Nine miles from our last night's camp a view of the "Rocky Islets" was
obtained from a hill, and set at due south. Immediately on descending
from the hill we crossed a salt chain of ponds in a bed of sandstone and
ironstone, and nine miles beyond this we came to another, also of salt
water; here we halted for the night as there was tolerable grass for the
horses, and we were fortunate enough to discover fresh water in a granite
rock.
In the course of the afternoon I obtained a view of a very distant hill
bearing from us W.8 degrees S. This I took to be the east Mount Barren of
Flinders; but it was still very far away, and the intervening country
looked barren and unpromising. During the day our route had still been
over the same character of country as before, with this exception, that
it was more stony and barren, with breccia or iron-stone grit covering
the surface. The streams were less frequently met with, and were of a
greatly inferior character, consisting now principally of only chains of
small stagnant ponds of salt water, destitute of grass, and without any
good soil in the hollows through which they took their course. Many of
these, and especially those we crossed in the latter part of the day,
were quite dry, and appeared to be nothing more than deep gutters washed
by heavy rains between the undulations of the country.
The rock formation, where it was developed, was exclusively sandstone or
ironstone, with inferior granite; and even the higher levels, which had
heretofore been of a sandy nature, were now rugged and stony, and more
sterile than before; the grasstrees, which generally accommodate
themselves to any soil, were stunted and diminutive, and by no means so
abundant as before. The general elevation of the country still appeared
to be the same. I estimated it at about three hundred feet.
One circumstance, which struck me as rather singular, with regard to the
last forty miles of country we had traversed, was, that it did not appear
to have experienced the same weather as there had been to the eastward.
The little water we found deposited in the rocks, plainly indicated that
the late rains had either not fallen here at all, or in a much less
degree than they had, in the direction we had come from; whilst the dry
and withered state of any little grass that we found, convinced me that
the earlier rains had still been more partial, so great was the contrast
between the rich luxuriance of the long green grass we had met with
before, and the few dry withered bunches of last year's growth, which we
fell in with now.
Chapter V.
LARGE WATERCOURSE--LAKE OF FRESH WATER--HEAVY RAINS--REACH MOUNT
BARREN--SALT LAKES AND STREAMS--BARREN SCRUBBY COUNTRY--RANGES BEHIND
KING GEORGE'S SOUND ARE SEEN--BRACKISH PONDS--PASS CAPE RICHE--A LARGE
SALT RIVER--CHAINS OF PONDS--GOOD LAND--HEAVILY TIMBERED COUNTRY--COLD
WEATHER--FRESH LAKE--THE CANDIUP RIVER--KING'S RIVER--EXCESSIVE
RAINS--ARRIVAL AT KING GEORGE'S SOUND AND TERMINATION OF THE
EXPEDITION--RECEPTION OF WYLIE BY THE NATIVES.
June 24.--UPON moving on early this morning, we crossed the bed of a
considerable watercourse, containing large deep pools of brackish water,
but unconnected at present by any stream. The late hour at which we
halted last night had prevented us from noticing this larger chain of
ponds, and of which, that we were encamped upon formed only a branch. The
country we now passed through, varied but little in character, except
that the shrubs became higher, with a good deal of the Eucalyptus dumosa
intermingled with them, and were entangled together by matted creepers or
vines, which made it extremely difficult and fatiguing to force a way
through. The whole was very sterile, and without grass.
After travelling nine miles, we passed on our right a small lake of fresh
water; and two miles beyond this another, about a mile in circumference,
but deep, and evidently of a permanent character. Close to this fresh
water lake was another, divided from it by only a narrow neck of land,
and yet the latter was as salt as the sea. We had only made a short stage
as yet; but as there was a little food for the horses near the lake, I
thought it more prudent to halt there than run the risk of being left
without in the wretched looking country before us,
The Mount Barren ranges were observed again, but the weather was cloudy,
so that I could make nothing out distinctly. In the afternoon, Wylie shot
three teal, of which there were numbers on the lake. At night, our
baggage and clothes had nearly all been destroyed by fire, a spark having
been carried by the wind to the tarpaulin which covered them, and which,
as it had been but newly tarred, was soon in a blaze. I was fortunate
enough, however, to observe the accident in time to save our other
effects.
June 25.--We commenced our journey early, but had not gone far before the
rain began to fall, and continued until ten o'clock. Occasionally the
showers came down in perfect torrents, rendering us very cold and
miserable, and giving the whole country the appearance of a large puddle.
We were literally walking in water; and by stooping down, almost any
where as we went along, could have dipped a pint pot half full. It was
dreadful work to travel thus in the water, and with the wet from the long
brush soaking our clothes for so many hours; but there was no help for
it, as we could not find a blade of grass for our horses, to enable us to
halt sooner. The surface of the whole country was stony and barren in the
extreme. A mile from our camp, we passed a small salt lake on our left;
and at fifteen miles more, came to a valley with some wiry grass in it.
At this I halted, as there was no prospect of getting better grass, and
the water left by the rains was abundant. The latter, though it had only
fallen an hour or two, was in many places quite salt, and the best of it
brackish, so thoroughly saline was the nature of the soil upon which it
had been deposited.
As the afternoon proved fine, I traced down the valley we were upon to
its junction with a stream flowing over a granite bed, about a mile from
our camp. In this the pools of water were large, deep, and brackish, but
there was plenty of fresh water left by the rains in holes of the rocks
upon its banks. As, however, there did not appear to be better grass upon
the larger channel, than in the valley where we were, I did not think it
worth while to remove our camp.
June 26.--I determined to remain in camp today to rest the horses, and to
enable me to arrange their loads, so that Wylie and I might again ride
occasionally. We had both walked for the last eleven days, during which
we had made good a distance of 134 miles from Rossiter Bay, and as I
calculated we ought under ordinary circumstances to reach the Sound in
ten days more, I thought that we might occasionally indulge in riding,
and relieve ourselves from the great fatigue we had hitherto been subject
to, especially as the horses were daily improving in strength and
condition.
Whilst I was engaged in making the necessary preparations, and throwing
away some things which I thought we could dispense with, such as our
bucket, some harness, ammunition, cooking utensils, and sundry other
things, Wylie took the rifle, and went down to the watercourse to shoot.
On his return in the afternoon he produced four teal and a black swan, as
the produce of his day's sport; he had, however, shot away every charge
of shot from the belt, which had been filled on board the Mississippi,
and held three pounds and a half, besides three ball cartridges; how
often he fired at the swan before he got it I could never discover, but I
heard shot after shot as fast as he could load and fire for some time,
and he himself acknowledged to firing at it seven times, but I suspect it
to have been nearer twice seven.
To-day we were obliged to fetch up what water we required for our own
use, from the holes in the granite rocks near the river, that lying on
the ground near our camp being too salt for use.
June 27.--Upon moving on this morning we passed towards the Mount Barren
ranges for ten miles through the same sterile country, and then observing
a watercourse coming from the hills, I became apprehensive I should
experience some difficulty in crossing it near the ranges, from their
rocky and precipitous character, and at once turned more southerly to
keep between the sea and a salt lake, into which the stream emptied
itself. After getting nearly half round the lake, our progress was
impeded by a dense and most difficult scrub of the Eucalyptus dumosa.
Upon entering it we found the scrub large and strong, and growing very
close together, whilst the fallen trees, dead wood, and sticks lying
about in every direction, to the height of a man's breast, rendered our
passage difficult and dangerous to the horses in the extreme. Indeed,
when we were in the midst of it, the poor animals suffered so much, and
progressed so little, that I feared we should hardly get them either
through it or back again. By dint of great labour and perseverance we
passed through a mile of it, and then emerging upon the beach followed it
for a short distance, until steep rocky hills coming nearly bluff into
the sea, obliged us to turn up under them, and encamp for the night not
far from the lake. Here our horses procured tolerable grass, whilst we
obtained a little fresh water for ourselves among the hollows of the
rocks.
Our stage had been about thirteen miles, and our position was S. 30
degrees E. from East Mount Barren, the hills under which we were encamped
being connected with that range. Most properly had it been called Mount
Barren, for a more wretched aridlooking country never existed than that
around it. The Mount Barren ranges are of quartz or reddish micaceous
slate, the rocks project in sharp rugged masses, and the strata are all
perpendicular.
June 28.--Upon getting up this morning we saw the smoke of native fires
along the margin of the lake, at less than a mile from us. They had
already noticed our fire, and called out repeatedly to us, but as I did
not wish to come into communication with them at all, I did not reply.
Soon afterwards we saw them in the midst of the lake carrying boughs, and
apparently fishing. Three miles from the lake we crossed a small salt
stream, and a mile further another. Four miles beyond the latter we came
to a very deep narrow salt lake, swarming with swans, pelicans, and
ducks. As the passage between the lake and the sea appeared to be
scrubby, and very similar to that we had found so much difficulty in
passing yesterday, I turned to the north-west to head it inland; but had
not proceeded far before I found our progress stopped by a large
salt-water stream, which joined the lake, and whose course was through
steep precipitous ravines. By following the river upwards I came to a
place where we could descend into its basin, and as the water there,
though brackish, was still drinkable, I halted for the night after a
stage of fourteen miles. The horses were a good deal tired with the rough
hilly road they had passed over, and having been without water last
night, stood greatly in need of rest.
In the afternoon Wylie took the rifle to shoot some of the swans and
ducks around us, but was not successful. I remained at the camp, breaking
down and clearing a passage amongst the shrubs and trees which grew in
the rocky bed of the watercourse, to enable us to get our horses readily
across to-morrow. Our position bore S. W. from East Mount Barren, E. from
a bluff range three miles from us, and N. 55 degrees E. from some high
hills in the direction of Middle Mount Barren. The course of the stream
we were encamped upon being nearly north and south.
June 29.--Having found so much difficulty in keeping between the hills
and the sea, I determined now to keep more inland, and steering W. 20
degrees N., headed all ranges in four miles. From this point East Mount
Barren bore E. 20 degrees N., and as I was now clear of hills in front, I
changed my course to W. 20 degrees S., passing through a barren worthless
country for eleven miles, and encamping upon a deep ravine, in which we
procured brackish water. Our horses were greatly fagged. From our camp
West Mount Barren bore S. 41 degrees W.
June 30.--For the first ten miles to-day we had a very bad road, over
steep stony ridges and valleys, covered for the most part with dense gum
scrub. The surface was strewed over with rough pebbles or ironstone grit,
and was broken a good deal into steep-faced ridges and deep hollows, as
if formed so by the action of water. The formation of these precipitous
banks appeared to be an ochre of various colours--red and yellow, and of
a soft friable description. At ten miles we crossed a watercourse with
many pools of brackish water in it, trending to a lake visible under the
coast ridge. There was good grass near this, and many kangaroos were
seen, but as no fresh water could be obtained, we passed on, and at three
miles further came to a hole of rain-water in a rocky gorge, but here
there was not a blade of grass. Hoping to meet with more success further
on, we still advanced for twelve miles, until night compelled us at last
to encamp without either grass or water, both ourselves and our horses
being greatly fatigued.
In the evening we obtained a view of some high rugged and distant ranges,
which I at once recognised as being the mountains immediately behind King
George's Sound. At last we could almost say we were in sight of the
termination of our long, harassing, and disastrous journey. Early in the
morning I had told Wylie that I thought we should see the King George's
Sound hills before night, but he at the time appeared rather sceptical;
when, however, they did break upon our view, in picturesque though
distant outline, his joy knew no bounds. For the first time on our
journey he believed we should really reach the Sound at last. The
cheering and not-to-be-mistaken view before him had dissipated all his
doubts. Once more he gazed upon objects that were familiar to him; the
home of his childhood was before him, and already almost in fancy he was
there, and amongst his friends; he could think, or talk of nothing else,
and actually complimented me upon the successful way in which I had
conducted him to the end of his journey. From our camp the distant ranges
bore W. 5 degrees S., and West Mount Barren E. 5 degrees S.
July 1.--After travelling three miles we came to a chain of large ponds
of brackish water, but with excellent grass around them, and as the
horses had nothing to eat or drink last night we halted for three hours.
The water was bad, but they drank it, and we were obliged to do so too,
after an ineffectual search for better. At noon we again moved on, and
after proceeding about five miles, came to a large watercourse where the
water was excellent, and the feed abundant. Here we halted for the night,
to make our horses amends for the bad fare and hard work of yesterday.
From the hill above our camp West Mount Barren bore E. 8 degrees N.,
Middle Mount Barren E. 21 degrees N., and Rugged Mountains behind the
Sound, W. 4 degrees S. The watercourse we were upon, like all those we
had lately crossed, had perpendicular cliffs abutting upon it, either on
one side or the other, and the channel through which it wound looked
almost like a cut made through the level country above it. A few
casuarinae were observed in parts of the valley, being the first met with
since those seen near Cape Arid.
July 2.--Our route to-day lay through a country much covered with
gum-scrub, banksias, and other shrubs, besides occasionally a few patches
of stunted gum-trees growing in clumps in small hollows, where water
appeared to lodge after rains. At two miles we crossed a small
watercourse, and at fifteen further, came to a deep valley with fine
fresh-water pools in it, and tolerable feed around; here we halted for
the night. The valley we were upon (and one or two others near) led to a
much larger one below, through which appeared to take its course the
channel of a considerable watercourse trending towards a bight in the
coast at S. 17 degrees W.
Some high land, seen to the southward and westward of us, I took to be
Cape Riche, a point I should like greatly to have visited, but did not
think it prudent to go so far out of my direct course, in the
circumstances I was travelling under.
July 3.--Upon commencing our journey to-day I found our route was much
intersected by deep ravines and gorges, all trending to the larger valley
below, and where I had no doubt a large chain of ponds, and probably much
good land, would have been found. After proceeding four miles and a half,
we were stopped by a large salt-water river, which seemed to be very deep
below where we struck it, and trended towards a bight of the coast where
it appeared to form a junction with the sea.
Many oyster and cockle shells were on its shore. This was the largest
river we had yet come to, and it gave us much trouble to cross it, for,
wherever it appeared fordable, the bed was so soft and muddy, that we
dared not venture to take our horses into it. By tracing it upwards for
eight miles, we at last found a rocky shelf extending across, by which we
were enabled to get to the other side. At the point where we crossed, it
had become only a narrow rocky channel; but there was a strong stream
running, and I have no doubt, higher up, the water might probably have
been quite fresh. Its waters flowed from a direction nearly of
west-north-west, and appeared to emanate from the high rugged ranges
behind King George's Sound. The country about the lower or broad part of
this river, as far as I traced it, was rocky and bad; but higher up,
there was a good deal of grass, and the land appeared improving. In the
distance, the hills seemed less rocky and more grassy, and might probably
afford fair runs for sheep. Upon the banks of the river were a few
casuarinae and more of the tea-tree, and bastard gum, than we had seen
before upon any other watercourse.
Upon crossing the river, we found the country getting more wooded, with a
stunted-looking tree, apparently of the same species as the stringy bark,
with bastard gums, and large banksias, the intervals being filled up with
grass-trees and brush, or shrubs, common at King George's Sound. At dark
we could find no water, and I therefore pushed on by moonlight, making
Wylie lead one of the horses whilst I drove the rest after him. At nine
o'clock, we came to a deep valley with plenty of water and grass in it,
and here we halted for the night, after a stage of full thirty miles. The
early part of the morning had been very wet, and it continued to rain
partially for the greatest part of the day, rendering us very cold and
uncomfortable. At night it was a severe frost.
July 4.--Our horses having been a good deal fagged yesterday, I did not
disturb them early, and it was nearly noon when we moved away from our
encampment, crossing the main watercourse, of which the ponds we were
upon last night were only a branch. In the larger channel, there were
many fine pools of water, connected by a strongly running stream in a
deep narrow bed, and which wound at a course of E. 25 degrees S. through
a valley of soft, spongy, peaty formation, and over which we had much
trouble in getting our horses, one having sunk very deep, and being with
difficulty extricated. After travelling two miles and a half, we obtained
a view of Bald Island, bearing S. 15 degrees W.; and in two miles and a
half more, we crossed a fine chain of ponds, taking its course through
narrow valleys between hills of granite; these valleys and the slopes of
the hills were heavily timbered; the soil was very rich, either a reddish
loam, or a light black mixed with sand, and the grass interspersed among
the trees was abundant and luxuriant. After ascending the range, we
passed principally over stony hills, and valleys heavily timbered, and
with brush or underwood, filling up the interstices of the trees.
Ten miles from our last night's camp we crossed the tracks of horses,
apparently of no very old date, this being the first symptom we had yet
observed of our approach towards the haunts of civilised man. The day was
cold with heavy squalls of rain, and as the night appeared likely to be
worse, I halted early, after a stage of thirteen miles. After dark the
rain ceased, and the night cleared up, but was very cold.
July 5.--Another rainy day, and so excessively cold that we were obliged
to walk to keep ourselves at all warm; we spent a miserable time,
splashing through the wet underwood, and at fifteen miles we passed a
fresh water lake, in a valley between some hills. This Wylie recognised
as a place he had once been at before, and told me that he now knew the
road well, and would act as guide, upon which I resigned the post of
honour to him, on his promising always to take us to grass and water at
night. Two miles and a half beyond the lake, we came to a fresh water
swamp, and a mile beyond that to another, at which we halted for the
night, with plenty of water, but very little grass. During the day, we
had been travelling generally through a very heavily timbered country.
At night the rain set in again, and continued to fall in torrents at
intervals; we got dreadfully drenched, and suffered greatly from cold and
want of rest, being obliged to stand or walk before the fire, nearly the
whole night.
July 6.--The morning still very wet and miserably cold. With Wylie acting
as guide, we reached in eight miles, the Candiup river, a large chain of
ponds, connected by a running stream, and emptying into a wide and deep
arm of the sea, with much rich and fertile land upon its banks. The whole
district was heavily timbered, and had good grass growing amongst the
trees. From the very heavy rains that had fallen, we had great trouble in
crossing many of the streams, which were swollen by the floods into
perfect torrents. In the Candiup river I had to wade, cold and chill as I
was, seven times through, with the water breast high, and a current that
I with difficulty could keep my feet against, in order to get the horses
over in safety; the only fordable place was at a narrow ledge of rocks,
and with so strong a stream, and such deep water below the ledge, I dared
not trust Wylie to lead any of them, but went back, and took each horse
across myself. The day was bitterly cold and rainy, and I began to suffer
severely from the incessant wettings I had been subject to for many days
past.
Four miles beyond the Candiup river, we came to King's river, a large
salt arm of Oyster Harbour, here my friend Wylie, who insisted upon it
that he knew the proper crossing place, took me into a large swampy
morass, and in endeavouring to take the horses through, three of them got
bogged and were nearly lost, and both myself and Wylie were detained in
the water and mud for a couple of hours, endeavouring to extricate them.
At last we succeeded, but the poor animals were sadly weakened and
strained, and we were compelled to return back to the same side of the
river, and encamp for the night, instead of going on to King George's
Sound as I had intended!
Fortunately there was tolerable grass, and fresh water lay every where
about in great abundance, so that the horses would fare well, but for
ourselves there was a cheerless prospect. For three days and nights, we
had never had our clothes dry, and for the greater part of this time, we
had been enduring in full violence the pitiless storm--whilst wading so
constantly through the cold torrents in the depth of the winter season,
and latterly being detained in the water so long a time at the King's
river, had rendered us rheumatic, and painfully sensitive to either cold
or wet. I hoped to have reached Albany this evening, and should have done
so, as it was only six miles distant, if it had not been for the unlucky
attempt to cross King's river. Now we had another night's misery before
us, for we had hardly lain down before the rain began to fall again in
torrents. Wearied and worn-out as we were, with the sufferings and
fatigues of the last few days, we could neither sit nor lie down to rest;
our only consolation under the circumstances being, that however bad or
inclement the weather might be, it was the last night we should be
exposed to its fury.
July 7.--Getting up the horses early, we proceeded up the King's river,
with a view of attempting to cross, but upon sounding the depths in one
or two places, I found the tide, which was rising, was too high; I had
only the alternative, therefore, of waiting for several hours until the
water ebbed, or else of leaving the horses, and proceeding on without
them. Under all the circumstances, I decided upon the latter; the rain
was still falling very heavily, and the river before us was so wide and
so dangerous for horses, from its very boggy character, that I did not
think it prudent to attempt to force a passage, or worth while to delay
to search for a proper crossing place. There was good feed for the horses
where they were, and plenty of water, so that I knew they would fare
better by remaining than if they were taken on to the Sound; whilst it
appeared to me more than probable that I should have no difficulty,
whenever I wished to get them, to procure a guide to go for and conduct
them safely across, at the proper crossing place.
Having turned our horses loose, and piled up our baggage, now again
greatly reduced, I took my journals and charts, and with Wylie forded the
river about breast high. We were soon on the other side, and rapidly
advancing towards the termination of our journey; the rain was falling in
torrents, and we had not a dry shred about us, whilst the whole country
through which we passed, had, from the long-continued and excessive
rains, become almost an uninterrupted chain of puddles. For a great part
of the way we walked up to our ankles in water. This made our progress
slow, and rendered our last day's march a very cold and disagreeable one.
Before reaching the Sound, we met a native, who at once recognised Wylie,
and greeted him most cordially. From him we learnt that we had been
expected at the Sound some months ago, but had long been given up for
lost, whilst Wylie had been mourned for and lamented as dead by his
friends and his tribe. The rain still continued falling heavily as we
ascended to the brow of the hill immediately overlooking the town of
Albany--not a soul was to be seen--not an animal of any kind--the place
looked deserted and uninhabited, so completely had the inclemency of the
weather driven both man and beast to seek shelter from the storm.
For a moment I stood gazing at the town below me--that goal I had so long
looked forward to, had so laboriously toiled to attain, was at last
before me. A thousand confused images and reflections crowded through my
mind, and the events of the past year were recalled in rapid succession.
The contrast between the circumstances under which I had commenced and
terminated my labours stood in strong relief before me. The gay and
gallant cavalcade that accompanied me on my way at starting--the small
but enterprising band that I then commanded, the goodly array of horses
and drays, with all their well-ordered appointments and equipment were
conjured up in all their circumstances of pride and pleasure; and I could
not restrain a tear, as I called to mind the embarrassing difficulties
and sad disasters that had broken up my party, and left myself and Wylie
the two sole wanderers remaining at the close of an undertaking entered
upon under such hopeful auspices.
Whilst standing thus upon the brow overlooking the town, and buried in
reflection, I was startled by the loud shrill cry of the native we had
met on the road, and who still kept with us: clearly and powerfully that
voice rang through the recesses of the settlement beneath, whilst the
blended name of Wylie told me of the information it conveyed. For an
instant there was a silence still almost as death--then a single
repetition of that wild joyous cry, a confused hum of many voices, a
hurrying to and fro of human feet, and the streets which had appeared so
shortly before gloomy and untenanted, were now alive with natives--men,
women and children, old and young, rushing rapidly up the hill, to
welcome the wanderer on his return, and to receive their lost one almost
from the grave.
It was an interesting and touching sight to witness the meeting between
Wylie and his friends. Affection's strongest ties could not have produced
a more affecting and melting scene--the wordless weeping pleasure, too
deep for utterance, with which he was embraced by his relatives, the
cordial and hearty reception given him by his friends, and the joyous
greeting bestowed upon him by all, might well have put to the blush those
heartless calumniators, who, branding the savage as the creature only of
unbridled passions, deny to him any of those better feelings and
affections which are implanted in the breast of all mankind, and which
nature has not denied to any colour or to any race.
Upon entering the town I proceeded direct to Mr. Sherrats', where I had
lodged when in King George's Sound, in 1840. By him and his family I was
most hospitably received, and every attention shewn to me; and in the
course of a short time, after taking a glass of hot brandy and water,
performing my ablutions and putting on a clean suit of borrowed clothes,
I was enabled once more to feel comparatively comfortable, and to receive
the many kind friends who called upon me.
I feel great pleasure in the opportunity now afforded me of recording the
grateful feelings I entertain towards the residents at Albany for the
kindness I experienced upon this occasion. Wet as the day was, I had
hardly been two hours at Mr. Sherrats before I was honoured by a visit
from Lady Spencer, from the Government-resident, Mr. Phillips, and from
almost all the other residents and visitors at the settlement,--all vying
with each other in their kind attentions and congratulations, and in
every offer of assistance or accommodation which it was in their power to
render.
Finding that a vessel would shortly sail for Adelaide, I at once engaged
my passage, and proceeded to make arrangements for leaving King George's
Sound.
To the Governor of the Colony, Mr. Hutt, I wrote a brief report of my
journey, which was forwarded, with a copy both of my own and Wylie's
depositions, relative to the melancholy loss of my overseer on the 29th
April. I then had my horses got up from the King's river, and left them
in the care of Mr. Phillips, who had in the most friendly manner offered
to take charge of them until they recovered their condition and could be
sold.
Wylie was to remain at the Sound with his friends, and to receive from
the Government a weekly allowance of provisions, [Note 29: This was
confirmed by Governor Hutt.] by order of Mr. Phillips; who promised to
recommend that it should be permanently continued, as a reward for the
fidelity and good conduct he had displayed whilst accompanying me in
the desert.
On the 13th July I wished my friends good bye, and in the afternoon went
on board the Truelove to sail for Adelaide; whilst working out of harbour
we were accompanied as long as any of the shore boats remained, by some
of the natives of the place, who were most anxious to have gone with me
to Adelaide. Wylie had given them so flattering an account of South
Australia and its pleasures, that he had excited the envy and curiosity
of the whole tribe; dozens applied to me to take them, and I really think
I could have filled the ship had I been disposed; one or two, more
persevering than the rest, would not be denied, and stuck close to the
vessel to the last, in the hope that I might relent and take them with me
before the pilot boat left, but upon this occurring, to their great
discomforture, they were compelled to return disappointed.
On the afternoon of the 26th of July I arrived in Adelaide, after an
absence of one year and twenty-six days.
Chapter VI.
CONCLUDING REMARKS.
Having now brought to a close the narrative of my explorations in 1840-1,
it may not be out of place to take a brief and cursory review of the
whole, and to state generally what have been the results effected. In
making this summary, I have no important rivers to enumerate, no fertile
regions to point out for the future spread of colonization and
civilization, or no noble ranges to describe from which are washed the
debris that might form a rich and fertile district beneath them; on the
contrary, all has been arid and barren in the extreme.
Such, indeed, has been the sterile and desolate character of the
wilderness I have traversed, and so great have been the difficulties
thereby entailed upon me, that throughout by far the greater portion of
it, I have never been able to delay a moment in my route, or to deviate
in any way from the line I was pursuing, to reconnoitre or examine what
may haply be beyond. Even in the latter part of my travels, when within
the colony of Western Australia, and when the occasionally meeting with
tracts of a better soil, or with watercourses appearing to have an outlet
to the ocean, rendered the country one of much greater interest, I was
quite unable, from the circumstances under which I was placed, the
reduced and worn-out state of my horses, and the solitary manner in which
I was travelling, ever to deviate from my direct line of route, either to
examine more satisfactorily the character of the country, or to determine
whether the watercourses, some of which occasionally bore the character
of rivers (though of only short course), had embouchures opening to the
sea or not.
In a geographical point of view, I would hope the result of my labours
has not been either uninteresting, or incommensurate with the nature of
the expedition placed under my command, and the character of the country
I had to explore. By including in the summary I am now making, the
journeys I undertook in 1839, as well as those of 1840-1 (for a
considerable portion of the country then examined was recrossed by the
Northern Expedition), it will be seen that I have discovered and examined
a tract of country to the north of Adelaide, which was previously
unknown, of about 270 miles in length, extending between the parallels of
33 degrees 40 minutes and 29 degrees S. latitude. In longitude, that part
of my route which was before unknown, extends between the parallels of
138 degrees E., and 118 degrees 40 minutes E., or about 1060 miles of
direct distance. These being connected with the previously known portions
of South-western, South-eastern, and part of Southern Australia, complete
the examination of the whole of the south line of the coast of this
continent. Indeed, I have myself (at various times) crossed over the
whole of this distance from east to west, from Sydney to Swan River. In
the early part of the Expedition, 1840, the continuation of Flinders
range, from Mount Arden, was traced and laid down to its termination,
near the parallel of 29 degrees S. It was ascertained to be hemmed in by
an impassable barrier, consisting of the basin of an immense lake, which
I named Lake Torrens, and which, commencing from the head of Spencer's
Gulf, increased in width as it swept to the north-west, but subsequently
bent round again to the north-east, east and south-east, in
correspondence with the trend of Flinders range, the northern extremity
of which it completely surrounded in the form of a horse-shoe. The shores
of this lake I visited to the westward of Flinders range, at three
different points, from eighty to ninety miles apart from each other, and
on all these occasions I found the basin to consist, as far as I could
penetrate, of a mass of mud and sand, coated on the surface with a crust
of salt, but having water mixed with it beneath. At the most
north-westerly point attained by me, water was found in an arm of the
main lake, about two feet deep, clear, and salt as the sea; it did not
extend, however, more than two or three hundred yards, nor did it
continue to the bed of the main lake, which appeared, from a rise that I
ascended near the arm, to be of the same character and consistency as
before. The whole course of the lake, to the farthest point visited by
me, was bounded by a steep, continuous, sandy ridge, exactly like a
sea-shore ridge; those parts of its course to the north, and to the east
of Flinders range, which I did not go down to, were seen and laid down
from various heights in that mountain chain. Altogether, the outline of
this extraordinary feature, as thus observed and traced, could not have
extended over a circuit of less than 400 miles.
It is singular enough that all the springs found near the termination of
Flinders range should have been salt, and that these were very nearly in
the same latitude in which Captain Sturt had found brine springs in the
bed of the Darling in 1829, although our two positions were so far
separated in longitude. My furthest position to the north-west was also
in about the same latitude, as the most inland point gained by any
previous exploring party, viz. that of Sir Thomas Mitchell's in 1832,
about the parallel of 149 degrees E. longitude; but by my being about 600
miles more to the westward, I was consequently much nearer to the centre
of New Holland. It is, to say the least, remarkable that from both our
positions, so far apart as they are, the country should present the same
low and sterile aspect to the west and north-west. Since my return from
the expedition, a party has been sent out under Captain Frome, the
Surveyor-General, in South Australia, to examine the south-east extremity
of Lake Torrens; the following is the report made by that officer upon
his return.
"The most northern point at which I found water last year, was near the
top of a deep ravine of the Black Rock Hills, in lat. 32 degrees 45
minutes 25 seconds, where I left the dray and the larger portion of my
party on the 20th July, taking on only a light spring cart, the bottom
filled entirely with kegs containing sufficient water for our horses for
nearly three days, and provisions for one month, which was as much as the
cart would contain.
"My object being to ascertain the boundaries of the southern termination
of the eastern branch of Lake Torrens, as laid down by Mr. Eyre, and also
the nature of the country between Flinders range, as high as the parallel
of Mount Hopeless, and the meridian of 141 degrees, (the eastern limits
of the province), I kept at first a course as near N.N.E. as the nature
of the ground would admit, to ensure my not passing to the east of this
extremity of the lake; from whence I intended, if possible, to pursue a
line nearly north-east, as far as my time and the means at my disposal
would allow me, hoping to reach the high land laid down by Sir Thomas
Mitchell, on the right banks of the Darling, to the north of Mount Lyell,
and thus ascertain if any reasonable hope existed of penetrating at some
future time towards the interior from thence. The continued heavy rains
which had fallen for more than three weeks before my departure from
Adelaide, on the 8th July, and for nearly a fortnight afterwards, had
left the surface water in pools on the scrubby plains, and in some of the
ravines; but on proceeding north, it was evident that these rains had not
been there so general or so heavy, though by steering from point to point
of the hills, after crossing the Black Rock Range at Rowe's Creek, I was
able to find sufficient water for the horses, and to replenish the kegs
every second or third day. From this spot, the plains, as well as the
higher land, appeared evidently to dip away to the north-east, the barren
hills all diminishing in elevation, and the deep watercourses from
Flinders range all crossing the plains in that direction. In one of these
watercourses, the Siccus (lat. about 31 degrees 55 minutes), whose
section nearly equals that of the Murray, there were indications of not
very remote floods having risen to between twenty and thirty feet above
its bed, plainly marked by large gum-trees lodged in the forks of the
standing trees, and lying high up on its banks, on one of which I
remarked dead leaves still on the branches; and in another creek (Pasmore
River), lat. 31 degrees 29 minutes, a strong current was running at the
spot where we struck it (owing, I suppose, to recent heavy rains among
the hills from whence it has its source), but below this point the bed
was like that of all the other creeks, as dry as if no rain had ever
fallen, and with occasional patches of various shrubs, and salt water
tea-tree growing in it. After crossing the low ridge above Prewitt's
Springs, lat. 31 degrees 45 minutes, forming the left bank of the basin
of the Siccus, the plain extended between the north and east as far as
the eye could reach, and the lurid glare of the horizon, as we advanced
northward, plainly indicated the approach of Lake Torrens, which, from
the direction I had followed, I expected to turn about this point. I was
obliged, however, to continue a northerly course for the sake of water,
which I could only hope to find in the ravines of the hills on our left,
as high as the parallel of 30 degrees 59 minutes, where the lake was
visible within fifteen or sixteen miles, and appeared from the high land
to be covered with water, studded with islands, and backed on the east by
a bold rocky shore. These appearances were, however, all deceptive, being
caused solely by the extraordinary refraction, as on riding to the spot
the following day, not a drop of water was to be seen in any direction.
The islands turned out to be mere low sandy ridges, very scantily clothed
with stunted scrub on their summits, and no distant land appeared any
where between the north and south-east, though from the hills above our
camp of the previous night, I could discern, with the aid of a very
powerful telescope, a ridge of low land, either on the eastern side of
the lake, or rising out of it, distant at least seventy miles, rendered
visible at that distance by the excessive refractive power of the
atmosphere on the horizon. A salt crust was seen at intervals on the
surface of the sand at the margin of the lake, or as it might more
properly be called, the Desert; but this appearance might either be
caused by water brought down by the Siccus, and other large watercourses
spreading over the saline soil in times of flood, or by rain, and
appeared to me no proof of its ever being covered with water for any
period of time. A few pieces of what appeared drift timber were also
lying about its surface. The sand, as we advanced farther east, became
more loose and drifting, and not a blade of grass, or any species of
vegetation, was visible, rendering hopeless any attempt to cross it with
horses. This point of the lake shore, being by Mr. Eyre's chart about
thirty miles to the westward of where I found it, I thought it advisable
to push further north, in the direction of the highest point of the
range, which I imagined was probably his Mount Serle; for though it was
not to be expected that Mr. Eyre, whose principal and almost sole object
was to discover a road to the interior, would, at the same time, have
been able to lay down the position of his route with the same accuracy
that might have been expected from a surveyor; this difference of
longitude prevented my being certain of the identity of the spot, or that
the range on our left, might not after all, be another long promontory
running to the north, similar to that on the western side of which was
Mr. Eyre's course. The appearance of the country, however, from the hills
close under Mount Serle (for the perpendicular cliffs on the east side of
this range of hills prevented my ascending to their summit without
turning them among the ranges, for which I had not time), convinced me at
once, from its perfect accordance with the description given by Mr. Eyre,
that his eastern arm of Lake Torrens was the sandy desert I had left, its
surface being about three hundred feet above the level of the sea; and
our two converging lines having thus met at Mount Serle, I knew it was
useless to advance further in the same direction to a spot which he had
named, from the impossibility of proceeding beyond it, "Mount Hopeless."
"I was thus forced to return to Pasmore River, as the nearest point from
whence I could cross to the low hills to the eastward, south of Lake
Torrens; and from thence I sent back to the depot two men of the party,
and three horses--the former for the sake of their rations, and the
latter on account of the probable difficulty I should have in procuring
water--taking on with me only Mr. Henderson and Mr. Hawker on foot, with
the light cart and one policeman. The second evening I made the most
northern of these hills, but could not find a drop of water in any of
them; and having unluckily lost the policeman, who had crossed in front
of the dray and got entangled in the dense scrub, I was detained three
days riding upon his tracks, until I had traced them to our dray tracks
from the depot at the Black Rock Hill, which he reached in safety, after
being out five days without food. The cart, in the mean time, had been
obliged to leave the spot where I left it, for want of water--having been
out six days without obtaining any but what we carried in the kegs; and
when I overtook it, we had not sufficient provisions for another attempt,
the period of one month, for which they were intended to last, having
already nearly expired.
"I very much regret not having been able to reach, at all events, within
sight of Mount Lyell; but where I turned I could plainly see the whole
country within fifty or sixty miles of the boundaries of the province,
and can speak with almost as much confidence of its absolute sterility as
if I had actually ridden over it. It would certainly be possible in the
wet season to take a small party from Prewitt's Springs across to this
hill of Sir Thomas Mitchell (distant about one hundred and sixty miles),
by carrying on water for eight or ten days; but no further supply might
be found short of the Darling (eighty miles beyond Mount Lyell), on which
river it would be madness to attempt anything without a considerable
force, on account of the natives; and the same point might be reached in
nearly as short a time, and with much more certainty, with any number of
men that might be considered necessary, by ascending the Murray as high
as the Laidley Ponds, and proceeding north from thence.
"On returning to the depot, I moved the party down to Mount Bryan, and
made another attempt on the 25th August, with Mr. Henderson, and one man
leading a pack-horse, to the north-east, hoping, from the heavy rains
which had fallen during the past two months, to find sufficient water in
the ravines to enable me to push on for several days. The second day, I
crossed the high range I had observed from the Black Rock Hills and Mount
Bryan, for the southern termination of which Colonel Gawler steered when
he left the northern bend of the Murray in December, 1839; but though
these hills had an elevation of twelve hundred or fourteen hundred feet
above the plain, there was no indication of rain having fallen there
since the deluge. This want of water prevented my proceeding further to
the north-east; but from the summit of the highest of these hills (Mount
Porcupine,) I had a clear view of the horizon in every direction, and a
more barren, sterile country, cannot be imagined.
"The direction of the dividing ridge between the basin of the Murray and
the interior desert plain was generally about north-east from the Black
Rock Hills (the highest point north of Mount Bryan,) gradually decreasing
in elevation, and, if possible, increasing in barrenness. The summits of
those hills I found invariably rock--generally sandstone--the lower
slopes covered with dense brush, and the valleys with low scrub, with
occasional small patches of thin wiry grass. I was obliged to return on
the third day, and reached the foot of Mount Bryan on the fourth evening,
at the southern extremity of which hill the horses were nearly bogged in
the soft ground, though only fifty miles distant from land where the dust
was flying as if in the midst of summer.
"It appears to me certain, from the result of these different attempts,
that there is no country eastward of the high land extending north from
Mount Bryan, as far as Mount Hopeless, a distance of about three hundred
miles, as far as the meridian of 141 degrees (and probably much beyond
it), available for either agricultural or pastoral purposes; and that,
though there may be occasional spots of good land at the base of the main
range on the sources of the numerous creeks flowing from thence towards
the inland desert, these must be too limited in extent to be of any
present value.
"The nature of the formation of the main range I found generally
iron-stone, conglomerate and quartz, with sandstone and slate at the
lower elevation. At the points of highest elevation from Mount Bryan
northward, igneous rocks of basaltic character protruded from below,
forming rugged and fantastic outlines.
"At one spot, particularly, about 30 degrees, there were marked
indications of volcanic action, and several hollows resembling small
craters of extinct volcanoes, near one of which we found a small spring
of water, maintaining always a temperature of about 76 degrees Farenheit,
when the thermometer standing in water in the kegs stood at 52 degrees,
and in the atmosphere at 54 degrees.
"The accompanying sketch of the country from Mount Bryan northwards, will
probably explain its character better than any written description. The
altitudes marked at the different spots where they were observed, were
obtained by the temperature of boiling water, as observed by two
thermometers; but as they were not graduated with sufficient minuteness
for such purposes, the results can only be considered approximate."
E. C. FROME,
Capt. Royal Engineers,
Surveyor-General.
September 14th, 1843.
In the above report it will be observed, that there are some apparent
discrepancies between my account and Captain Frome's. First, with respect
to the position of the south-east extremity of Lake Torrens. Captain
Frome states that he found that point thirty miles more to the east than
I had placed it in my chart. Now the only sketch of my course under
Flinders range, and that a rough one, which I furnished to the Colonial
Government, was sent from Port Lincoln, and is the same which was
subsequently published with other papers, relative to South Australia,
for the House of Commons, in 1843. This sketch was put together hastily
for his Excellency the Governor, that I might not lose the opportunity of
forwarding it when I sent from Port Lincoln to Adelaide for supplies
early in October, 1840. It was constructed entirely, after I found myself
compelled to return from the northern interior, and could only be
attended to, in a hurried and imperfect manner, during the brief
intervals I could snatch from other duties, whilst travelling back from
the north to Port Lincoln (nearly 400 miles,) during which time my
movements were very rapid, and many arrangements, consequent upon
dividing my party at Baxter's range, had to be attended to; added to this
were the difficulties and embarrassments of conducting myself one
division of the party to Port Lincoln, through 200 miles of a desert
country which had never been explored before, and which, from its arid
and sterile character, presented impediments of no ordinary kind.
Upon my return to Adelaide in 1841, after the Expedition had terminated,
other duties engrossed my time, and it was only after the publication of
Captain Frome's report, that my attention was again called to the
subject. Upon comparing my notes and bearings with the original sketch I
had made, I found that in the hurry and confusion of preparing it, whilst
travelling, I had laid down all the bearings and courses magnetic,
without allowing for the variation; nor can this error, perhaps, be
wondered at, considering the circumstances under which the sketch was
constructed.
At Mount Hopeless the variation was 4 degrees E., at Mount Arden it was 7
degrees 24 minutes E. Now if this variation be applied proportionably to
all the courses and bearings as marked down in the original chart,
commencing from Mount Arden, it will be found that Mount Serle will be
brought by my map very nearly in longitude to where Captain Frome places
it. [Note 30 at end of para.] Our latitudes appear to agree exactly.
The second point upon which some difference appears to exist
between Captain Frome's report and mine is the character of Lake Torrens
itself, which Captain Frome thought might more properly be called
a desert. This, it will be observed, is with reference to its south-east
extremity--a point I never visited, and which I only saw once from
Mount Serle; a point, too, which from the view I then had of it,
distant although it was, even at that time seemed to me to be
"apparently dry," and is marked as such in Arrowsmith's chart,
published from the sketch alluded to.
[Note 30: This has been done by Arrowsmith in the map which accompanies
these volumes;--to which Mr. Arrowsmith has also added Captain Frome's
route from the original tracings.]
There is, however, a still greater, and more singular difference alluded
to in Captain Frome's report, which it is necessary to remark; I mean
that of the elevation of the country. On the west side of Flinders range,
for 200 miles that I traced the course of Lake Torrens, it was, as I have
observed, girded in its whole course by a steep ridge, like a sea-shore,
from which you descended into a basin, certainly not above the level of
the sea, possibly even below it (I had no instruments with me to enable
me to ascertain this,) the whole bed consisted of mud and water, and I
found it impossible to advance far into it from its boggy nature. On the
east side of Flinders range, Captain Frome found the lake a desert, 300
feet above the level of the sea, [Note 31: By altitude deduced from the
temperature of boiling water.] and consisting of "loose and drifting
sand," and "low sandy ridges, very scantily clothed with stunted scrub on
their summits." Now, by referring to Captain Frome's chart and report, it
appears that the place thus described was nearly thirty miles south of
Mount Serle, and consequently twenty miles south of that part of the bed
of Lake Torrens which I had seen from that hill. It is further evident,
that Captain Frome had not reached the basin of Lake Torrens, and I
cannot help thinking, that if he had gone further to the north-east, he
would have come to nearly the same level that I had been at on the
western side of the hills. There are several reasons for arriving at this
conclusion. First, the manner in which the drainage is thrown off from
the east side of Flinders range, and the direction which the watercourses
take to the north-east or north; secondly, because an apparent connection
was traceable in the course of the lake, from the heights in Flinders
range, nearly all the way round it; thirdly, because the loose sands and
low sandy ridges crowned with scrub, described by Captain Frome, were
very similar to what I met with near Lake Torrens in the west side,
before I reached its basin.
After the Northern Expedition had been compelled to return south, (being
unable to cross Lake Torrens,) the peninsula of Port Lincoln was
examined, and traversed completely round, in all the three sides of the
triangle formed by its east and west coasts, and a line from Mount Arden
to Streaky Bay. A road overland from Mount Arden was forced through the
scrub for a dray; but the country travelled through was of so
inhospitable a character as to hold out no prospect of its being
generally available for overland communication. One unfortunate
individual has since made an attempt to take over a few head of cattle by
this route, but was unable to accomplish it, and miserably perished with
his whole party from want of water. [Note 32: Vide note to page 154,
Vol. I. (Note 11)]
On the northern side of the triangle I have alluded to, or on the line
between Mount Arden and Streaky Bay, a singularly high and barren range,
named the Gawler Range after His Excellency the Governor, was found
consisting of porphoritic granite, extending nearly all the way across,
and then stretching out to the north-west in lofty rugged outline as far
as the eye could reach; the most remarkable fact connected with this
range, was the arid and sterile character of the country in which it was
situated, as well as of the range itself, which consisted entirely of
rugged barren rocks, without timber or vegetation. There was not a stream
or a watercourse of any kind emanating from it; we could find neither
spring nor permanent fresh water, and the only supply we procured for
ourselves was from the deposits left by very recent rains, and which in a
few days more, would have been quite dried up. The soil was in many
places saline, and wherever water had lodged in any quantity (as in lakes
of which there were several) it was quite salt.
[Note 33: A small exploring party, under a Mr. Darke, was sent from Port
Lincoln in August, 1844, but after getting as far as the Gawler Range were
compelled by the inhospitable nature of the country to return. The
unfortunate leader was murdered by the natives on his route homewards.]
Continuing the line of coast to the westward, the expedition passed
through the most wretched and desolate country imaginable, consisting
almost entirely of a table-land, or of undulating ridges, covered for the
most part with dense scrubs, and almost wholly without either grass or
water. The general elevation of this country was from three to five
hundred feet, and all of the tertiary deposit, with primary rocks
protruding at intervals.
The first permanent fresh water met with on the surface was a small
fresh-water lake, beyond the parallel of 123 degrees E.; but from Mount
Arden to that point, a distance of fully 800 miles in a direct line, none
whatever was found on the surface (if I except a solitary small spring
sunk in the rock at Streaky Bay). During the whole of this vast distance,
not a watercourse, not a hollow of any kind was crossed; the only water
to be obtained was by digging close to the sea-shore, or the sand-hills
of the coast, and even by that means it frequently could not be procured
for distances of 150 to 160 miles together. With the exception of the
Gawler Range, which lies between Streaky Bay and Mount Arden, this dreary
waste was one almost uniform table-land of fossil formation, with an
elevation of from three to five hundred feet, covered for the most part
by dense impenetrable scrubs, and varied only on its surface by
occasional sandy or rocky undulations.
What then can be the nature of that mysterious interior, bounded as it is
by a table-land without river or lakes, without watercourses or drainage
of any kind, for so vast a distance? Can it be that the whole is one
immense interminable desert, or an alternation of deserts and shallow
salt lakes like Lake Torrens? Conjecture is set at defiance by the
impenetrable arrangements of nature; where, the more we pry into her
secrets, the more bewildered and uncertain become all our speculations.
It has been a common and a popular theory to imagine the existence of an
inland sea, and this theory has been strengthened and confirmed by the
opinion of so talented, so experienced, and so enterprising a traveller
as my friend Captain Sturt, in its favour. That gentleman, with the noble
and disinterested enthusiasm by which he has ever been characterised, has
once more sacrificed the pleasure and quiet of domestic happiness, at the
shrine of enterprise and science. With the ardour of youth, and the
perseverance and judgment of riper years, he is even now traversing the
trackless wilds, and seeking to lift up that veil which has hitherto hung
over their recesses. May he be successful to the utmost of his wishes,
and may he again rejoin in health and safety his many friends, to forget
in their approbation and admiration the toils he has encountered, and to
enjoy the rewards and laurels which will have been so hardly earned, and
so well deserved.
It was in August, 1844, that Captain Sturt set out upon his arduous
undertaking, with a numerous and well equipped party, and having
provisions calculated to last them for eighteen months. I had the
pleasure of accompanying the expedition as far as the Rufus (about 240
miles from Adelaide), to render what assistance I could, in passing up,
on friendly terms among the more distant natives of the Murray. Since my
return, Captain Sturt has been twice communicated with, and twice heard
from, up to the time I left the Colony, on the 21st December, 1844. The
last official communication addressed to the Colonial Government will be
found in Chapter IX. of Notes on the Aborigines. The following is a copy
of a private letter to John Morphett, Esq M.C., and published in the
Adelaide Observer of the 9th November, 1844:--
"14th October, 1844.
"I left Lake Victoria, as I told you in a former letter, on the 18th of
September, and again cut across the country to the Murray. As we
travelled along we saw numerous tracks of wild cattle leading from the
marshes to the river, and we encamped at the junction of the river and a
lagoon (one of the most beautiful spots you ever saw), just where these
tracks were most numerous. In the night therefore we were surrounded by
lowing herds, coming to the green pastures of which we had taken
possession. In the morning I sent Messrs. Poole and Brown, with Flood my
stockman, and Mark to drive in some bullocks, as I was anxious to secure
one or two workers. The brush however was too thick, and in galloping
through it after a bull, Flood's carbine exploded, and blew off three of
the fingers of his right hand. This accident obliged me to remain
stationary for two days, notwithstanding my anxiety to get up to the
lagoon at Williorara, to ascertain the truth or otherwise of the report I
had heard of the massacre of a party of overlanders there.
"On the 23rd I reached the junction of the Ana branch with the Murray,
discovered by Eyre, and then turned northwards. Running this Ana branch
up, I crossed it where the water ceased, and went to the Darling,
striking it about fifteen miles above its junction with the Murray. The
unlooked-for course of the Darling however kept me longer on its banks
than I had anticipated; but you can form no idea of the luxuriant verdure
of its flats. They far surpass those of the Murray, both in quantity and
quality of soil; and extended for many miles at a stretch along the river
side. We have run up it at a very favourable season, and seen the
commencement of its floods; for, two days after we reached it, and found
it with scarcely any water in its bed, we observed a fresh in it,
indicated by a stronger current. The next morning to our surprise the
waters were half-bank high. They had risen six feet during the night, and
were carrying everything before them; now they are full sixteen feet
above their level, and a most beautiful river it is. Over this said
mysterious river, as Major Mitchell calls it, the trees drooped like
willows, or grew in dark clusters at each turn; the sloping banks were of
a vivid green, the flats lightly timbered, and the aspect of the whole
neighbourhood cheerful.
"I had hoped that we should have been able to approach the ranges pretty
closely along the line of Laidley's Ponds; but fancy our disappointment
when we arrived on its banks to find that instead of a mountain stream it
was a paltry creek, connecting a lake, now dry, with the river, and that
its banks were quite bare. I was therefore obliged to fall back upon the
Darling, and have been unable to stir for the last four days by reason of
heavy rain.
"On Tuesday I despatched Mr. Poole to the ranges, which are forty miles
distant from us, to ascertain if there is water or feed under them; but I
have no hope of good tidings, and believe I shall ultimately be obliged
to establish myself on the Darling.
"You will be glad to hear, and so ought every body, that we have
maintained a most satisfactory intercourse with the natives. The report
we had heard referred to Major Mitchell's affray with them, and you will
not be surprised at their reverting to it, when I tell you that several
old men immediately recognized me as having gone down the Murray in a
boat, although they could have seen me for an hour or two only, and
fifteen years have now elapsed since I went down the river. I suppose we
misunderstood the story; but most assuredly I fully anticipated we
should, sooner or later, come on some dreadful acene or other, and I came
up fully prepared to act; but the natives have been exceedingly quiet,
nor have we seen a weapon in the hands of any of them: in truth I have
been quite astonished at the change in the blacks; for instead of
collecting in a body, they have visited us with their wives and children,
and have behaved in the most quiet manner. We may attribute this in part
to our own treatment of the natives, and in part to Eyre's influence over
them, which is very extensive, and has been productive of great good. The
account the natives give of the distant interior is very discouraging. It
is nothing more however than what I expected. They say that beyond the
hills it is all sand and rocks; that there is neither grass or water, or
wood; and that it is awfully hot. This last feature appears to terrify
them. They say that they are obliged to take wood to the hills for fire,
and that they clamber up the rocks on the hills; that when there is water
there, it is in deep holes from which they are obliged to sponge it up
and squeeze it out to drink. I do not in truth think that any of the
natives have been beyond the hills, and that the country is perfectly
impracticable.
"We are now not more than two hundred and fifteen feet above the sea,
with a declining country to the north-west, and the general dip of the
continent to the south-west. What is the natural inference where there is
not a single river emptying itself upon the coast, but that there is an
internal basin? Such a country can only be penetrated by cool calculation
and determined perseverance. I have sat down before it as a besieger
before a fortress, to make my approaches with the same systematic
regularity. I must cut hay and send forage and water in advance, as far
as I can. I have the means of taking sixteen days' water and feed for two
horses and three men; and if I can throw my supplies one hundred miles in
advance, I shall be able to go two hundred miles more beyond that point,
at the rate of thirty miles a-day, one of us walking whilst two rode.
Surely at such a distance some new feature will open to reward our
efforts! My own opinion is, that an inland sea will bring us up ere
long--then how shall we get the boat upon it? 'Why,' you will say,
'necessity is the mother of invention.' You will find some means or
other, no doubt; and so we will. However, under any circumstances, depend
upon it I will either lift up or tear down the curtain which hides the
interior from us, so look out for the next accounts from me as of the
most interesting kind, as solving this great problem, or shutting the
door to discovery from this side the continent for ever.
"P.S. Poole has just returned from the ranges. I have not time to write
over again. He says that there are high ranges to N. and N.W. and
water,--a sea extending along the horizon from S.W. by W., to ten E. of
N. in which there are a number of islands and lofty ranges as far as the
eye can reach. What is all this? Are we to be prosperous? I hope so; and
I am sure you do. To-morrow we start for the ranges, and then for the
waters,--the strange waters on which boat never swam, and over which flag
never floated. But both shall are long. We have the heart of the interior
laid open to us, and shall be off with a flowing sheet in a few days.
Poole says that the sea was a deep blue, and that in the midst of it
there was a conical island of great height. When will you hear from me
again?"
From this communication, Captain Sturt appears to be sanguine of having
realized the long hoped for sea, and at last of having found a key to the
centre of the continent. Most sincerely do I hope that this may be the
case, and that the next accounts may more than confirm such satisfactory
intelligence.
My own impressions were always decidedly opposed to the idea of an inland
sea, nor have I changed them in the least, now that circumstances
amounting almost to proof, seem to favour that opinion.
Entertaining, as I do, the highest respect for the opinion of one so
every way capable of forming a correct judgment as Captain Sturt, it is
with considerable diffidence that I advance any conjectures in opposition
to his, and especially so, as I may be thought presumptuous in doing so
in the face of the accounts received. Until these accounts, however, are
further confirmed, the question still remains as it was; and it may
perhaps not be out of place to allude to some of the reasons which have
led me to form an opinion somewhat different from that entertained by
Captain Sturt, and which I have been compelled to arrive at after a long
personal experience, a closer approach to the interior, and a more
extensive personal examination of the continent, than any other traveller
has hitherto made. In the course of that experience, I have never met
with the slightest circumstance to lead me to imagine that there should
be an inland sea, still less a deep navigable one, and having an outer
communication with the ocean. I can readily suppose, and, in fact, I do
so believe, that a considerable portion of the interior consists of the
beds or basins of salt lakes or swamps, as Lake Torrens, and some of
which might be of great extent. I think, also, that these alternate, with
sandy deserts, and that probably at intervals, there are many isolated
ranges, like the Gawler range, and which, perhaps, even in some places
may form a connection of links across the continent, could any favourable
point be obtained for commencing the examination.
It is very possible that among these ranges, intervals of a better or
even of a rich and fertile country might be met with.
The suggestion thrown out by Captain Sturt a few years ago, that
Australia might formerly have been an Archipelago of islands, appears to
me to have been a happy idea, and to afford the most rational and
satisfactory way of accounting for many of the peculiarities observable
upon its surface or in its structure. That it has only recently (compared
with other countries) obtained its present elevation, is often forcibly
impressed upon the traveller, by the appearance of the country he is
traversing, but no where have I found this to be the case in a greater
degree, than whilst exploring that part of it, north of Spencer's Gulf,
where a great portion of the low lands intervening, between the base of
Flinders range, and the bed of Lake Torrens, presents the appearance of a
succession of rounded undulations of sand or pebbles washed perfectly
smooth and even, looking like waves of the sea, and seeming as if they
had not been very many centuries deserted by the element that had moulded
them into their present form. In this singular district I found scattered
at intervals throughout the whole area inclosed by, but south of, Lake
Torrens, many steep-sided fragments of a table land, [Note 34 at end of
para.] which had evidently been washed to pieces by the violent action of
water, and which appeared to have been originally, of nearly the same
general elevation as the table lands to the westward. It seems to me,
that these table lands have formerly been the bed of the ocean, and this
opinion is fully borne out by the many marine remains, fossil shells, and
banks of oyster shells, [Note 35 at end of para.] which are frequently to
be met with embedded in them. What are now the ranges of the continent
would therefore formerly have been but rocks or islands, and if this
supposition be true, there are still hopes that some other islands are
scattered over the immense space occupied by Australia, and which may be
of as rich and fertile a character, as any that are yet known. Thus if
the intervening extent of desert lying between any of the known portions
of Australia, and what may be considered as having been the next island,
can be ascertained and crossed over, new and valuable regions may yet be
offered for the extension of the pastoral interest of our Colonies,
and for the general spread of civilization and improvement.
[Note 34: "An hundred miles above this, I passed a curious feature, called
the "Square Hills" (plate 123 ). I landed my canoe and went ashore, and to
their tops to examine them. Though they appeared to be near the river, I
found it half a day's journey to travel to and from them; they being
several miles from the river. On ascending them I found them to be two or
three hundred feet high, and rising on their sides at an angle of 45 deg.
and on their tops, in some places for half a mile in length perfectly
level, with a green turf, and corresponding exactly with the tabular
hills spoken of above the Mandans, in plate 39, vol. 1. I therein said
that I should visit these hills on my way down the river; and I am fully
convinced from close examination, that they are a part of the same
original superstratum, which I therein described, though 7 or 800 miles
separated from them. They agree exactly in character, and also in the
materials of which they are composed; and I believe that some
unaccountable gorge of waters has swept away the intervening earth,
leaving these solitary and isolated, though incontrovertible evidences,
that the summit level of all this great valley, has at one time been
where the level surface of these hills now is, two or three hundred feet
above what is now denominated the summit level."--Catlin's American
Indians, Vol. 2. pp. 11 and 12.]
[Note 35: Similar banks of fossil shells and oyster beds, are found in the
Arkansas.--Vide Catlin, Vol. 2. p. 85. At page 86, Mr. Catlin describes
banks of gypsum and salt, extending through a considerable extent of
country, and which apparently was of a very similar formation to some of
the localities I was in to the north of Spencer's Gulf.]
I have already observed that several circumstances connected with my own
personal experience have led me to the conclusion, that there is no
inland sea now occupying the centre of New Holland; it will be sufficient
to name three of the most important of these.
First. I may mention the hot winds which in South Australia, or opposite
the centre of the continent, always blow from the north, to those, who
have experienced the oppressive and scorching influence of these winds,
which can only be compared to the fiery and withering blasts from a
heated furnace, I need hardly point out that there is little probability
that such winds can have been wafted over a large expanse of water.
Secondly. I may state that between the Darling river and the head of the
Great Australian Bight, I have at various points come into friendly
communication with the Aborigines inhabiting the outskirts of the
interior, and from them I have invariably learnt that they know of no
large body of water inland, fresh or salt; that there were neither trees
nor ranges, but that all was an arid waste so far as they were accustomed
to travel.
Thirdly. I infer the non-existence of an inland sea, from the coincidence
observable in the physical appearance, customs, character, and pursuits
of the Aborigines at opposite points of the continent, whilst no such
coincidence exists along the intervening lines of coast connecting those
points.
With respect to the first consideration, it is unnecessary to add further
remark; as regards the second, I may state, that although I may sometimes
not have met with natives at those precise spots which might have been
best suited for making inquiry, or although I may sometimes have had a
difficulty in explaining myself to, or in understanding a people whose
language I did not comprehend; yet such has not always been the case, and
on many occasions I have had intercourse with natives at favourable
positions, and have been able, quite intelligibly, to carry on any
inquiries. One of these opportunities occurred in the very neighbourhood
of the hill from which Mr. Poole is said to have seen the inland sea, as
described in Captain Sturt's despatch.
There are several reasons for supposing Mr. Poole to have been deceived
in forming an opinion of the objects which he saw before him from that
elevation: first, I know, from experience, the extraordinary and
deceptive appearances that are produced in such a country as Mr. Poole
was in, by mirage and refration combined. I have often myself been very
similarly deceived by the semblance of hills, islands, and water, where
none such existed in reality. Secondly, in December 1843, I was within
twenty-five miles of the very spot from which Mr. Poole thought he looked
upon a sea, and I was then accompanied by natives, and able, by means of
an interpreter, to communicate with those who were acquainted with the
country to the north-west. My inquiries upon this point were particular;
but they knew of no sea. They asserted that there was mud out in that
direction, and that a party would be unable to travel; from which I
inferred either that some branch of the Darling spread out its waters
there in time of flood, or that Lake Torrens itself was stretching out in
the direction indicated. Thirdly, I hold it physically impossible that a
sea can exist in the place assigned to it, in as much as during an
expedition, undertaken by the Surveyor-general of the Colony, in
September, 1843, that officer had attained a position which would place
himself and Mr. Poole at two opposite points, upon nearly the same
parallel of latitude; but about 130 miles of longitude apart, in a low
level country, and in which, therefore, the ranges of their respective
vision from elevations would cross each other, and if there was a sea,
Captain Frome must have seen it as well as Mr. Poole; again, I myself had
an extensive and distant view to the north-east and east from Mount
Hopeless, a low hill, about ninety miles further north than Captain
Frome's position, but a little more east; yet there was nothing like a
sea to be seen from thence, the dry and glazed-looking bed of Lake
Torrens alone interrupting the monotony of the desert.
There are still some few points connected with our knowledge of the
outskirts of the interior which leave great room for speculation, and
might lead to the opinion that it is not altogether a low or a desert
region. The facts which have more immediately come under my own
observation, are connected, first with the presence of birds belonging to
a higher and better country in the midst of a desert region, and
secondly, with the line of route taken by the Aborigines in spreading
over the continent, as deduced from a coincidence or dissimilarity of the
manners, customs, or languages of tribes remotely apart from one another.
With respect to the presence of birds in a region such as they do not
usually frequent, I may state that at Mount Arden, near the head of
Spencer's Gulf, swans were seen taking their flight high in the air, to
the north, as if making for some river or lake they were accustomed to
feed at. At the Frome river, where it spreads into the plains to the
north of Flinders range; four white cockatoos were found flying about
among the trees, although those birds had not been met with for 200 miles
before I attained that point. [Note 36: Vide Vol. I. July 4, Aug 31,
and March 19.] And about longitude 128 degrees 20 minutes E., when
crossing over towards King George's Sound, large parrots were found coming
from the north-east, to feed upon the berries of a shrub growing on the
sea coast, although no parrots were seen for two or three hundred
miles on either side, either to the east or to the west, they
must, therefore, have come from the interior. Now the parrot is a bird
that often frequents a mountainous country, and always inhabits one
having timber of a better description and larger growth than the
miserable shrubs met with along the coast; it is a bird too that always
lives within reach of permanent fresh-water, as rivers, lakes, creeks,
pools, etc. Can there then be such in the interior, with so barren and
arid a region, bounding it? and how are we to commence an examination
with so many difficulties and embarrassments attending the very outset?
The second series of facts which have attracted my attention, relate to
the Aborigines. It is a well known circumstance that the dialects,
customs, and pursuits in use among them in the various parts of the
continent, differ very much from each other in some particulars, and yet
that there is such a general similarity in the aggregate as to leave no
room to doubt that all the Aborigines of Australia have had one common
origin, and are in reality one and the same race. If this then is really
the case, they must formerly have spread over the continent from one
first point, and this brings me to the
Third reason I have mentioned as being one, from which I infer, that
there is not an inland sea, viz., the coincidence observable in the
physical appearance, customs, character, and pursuits of the Aborigines,
at opposite points of the continent, whilst no such coincidence exists
along the intervening lines of coast connecting those two points, and
which naturally follows from the circumstances connected with the present
location of the various tribes in which this is observable, and with the
route which they must have taken to arrive at the places they now occupy
on the continent. [Note 37 at end of para.] I believe that the idea of
attempting to deduce the character of the continent, and the most probable
line for crossing it, from the circumstances and habits of the natives
inhabiting the coast line is quite a novel one. It appears to me, however,
to be worth consideration; and if it is true that the natives have all one
common origin, and have spread over the continent from one first point,
I think it may reasonably be inferred that there is a practicable route
across the centre of New Holland, and that this line lies between the
125th and 135th degrees of east longitude. It further appears that there
must still be a second route, other than the coast line, in the direction
between Port Jackson in New South Wales and the south-east corner of the
Gulf of Carpentaria on the north coast.
[Note 37: Vide Chapter VII. of Notes on the Aborigines, where this subject
will be found fully discussed, and the reasons given for supposing the
conclusions here assumed.]
If then we have reasonable grounds for believing that such lines of route
actually do exist, it becomes a matter of much interest and importance to
determine the most favourable point from which to explore them. My own
experience has pointed out the dreadful nature of the southern coast, and
the very great and almost insuperable difficulties that beset the
traveller at the very commencement--in his efforts even to establish a
single depot from which to enter upon his researches. The northern coast
may, probably, afford greater facilities, but in a tropical climate,
where the heat and other circumstances render ordinary difficulties and
impediments still more embarrassing and dangerous, it is a matter of deep
moment that the expedition for interior exploration should commence at
the right point, and this can only be ascertained by a previous
examination.
I have myself always been most anxious to attempt to cross from Moreton
Bay on the N. E. coast to Port Essington on the N. W. I believe that this
journey is quite practicable, and I have no doubt that if judiciously
conducted, and the country to the south of the line of route always
examined, as far as that could be done, it would completely develop, in
connection with what is already known, the character and formation of
Australia, and would at once point out the most proper place from which
subsequent expeditions ought to start in order finally to accomplish the
passage across its interior--from the north to the south.
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE ABORIGINES OF AUSTRALIA.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY REMARKS--UNJUST OPINIONS GENERALLY ENTERTAINED OF THE
CHARACTER OF THE NATIVE--DIFFICULTIES AND DISADVANTAGES HE LABOURS UNDER
IN HIS RELATIONS WITH EUROPEANS--AGGRESSIONS AND INJURIES ON THE PART OF
THE LATTER IN GREAT DEGREE EXTENUATE HIS CRIMES.
Upon bringing to a close the narrative of an Expedition of Discovery in
Australia, during the progress of which an extensive portion of the
previously unknown parts of that continent were explored, I have thought
it might not be uninteresting to introduce a few pages on the subject of
the Aborigines of the country.
It would afford me much gratification to see an interest excited on their
behalf proportioned to the claims of a people who have hitherto been
misjudged or misrepresented.
For the last twelve years I have been personally resident in one or other
of the Australian Colonies, and have always been in frequent intercourse
with the aboriginal tribes that were near, rarely being without some of
them constantly with me as domestics.
To the advantages of private opportunities of acquiring a knowledge of
their character were added, latterly, the facilities afforded by my
holding a public appointment in South Australia, in the midst of a
district more densely populated by natives than any in that Colony, where
no settler had ventured to locate, and where, prior to my arrival in
October 1841, frightful scenes of bloodshed, rapine, and hostility
between the natives and parties coming overland with stock, had been of
frequent and very recent occurrence.
As Resident Magistrate of the Murray District, I may almost say, that for
the last three years I have lived with the natives. My duties have
frequently taken me to very great distances up the Murray or the Darling
rivers, when I was generally accompanied only by a single European, or at
most two, and where, if attacked, there was no possibility of my
receiving any human aid. I have gone almost alone among hordes of those
fierce and blood-thirsty savages, as they were then considered, and have
stood singly amongst them in the remote and trackless wilds, when
hundreds were congregated around, without ever receiving the least injury
or insult.
In my first visits to the more distant tribes I found them shy, alarmed,
and suspicious, but soon learning that I had no wish to injure them, they
met me with readiness and confidence. My wishes became their law; they
conceded points to me that they would not have done to their own people,
and on many occasions cheerfully underwent hunger, thirst, and fatigue to
serve me.
Former habits and prejudices in some respects gave way to the influence I
acquired. Tribes that never met or heard of one another before were
brought to mingle in friendly intercourse. Single individuals traversed
over immense distances and through many intervening tribes, which
formerly they never could have attempted to pass, and in accomplishing
this the white man's name alone was the talisman that proved their
safe-guard and protection.
During the whole of the three years I was Resident at Moorunde, not a
single case of serious injury or aggression ever took place on the part
of the natives against the Europeans; and a district, once considered the
wildest and most dangerous, was, when I left it in November 1844, looked
upon as one of the most peaceable and orderly in the province.
Independently of my own personal experience, on the subject of the
Aborigines, I have much pleasure in acknowledging the obligations I am
under to M. Moorhouse, Esq. Protector of Aborigines in Adelaide, for his
valuable assistance, in comparing and discussing the results of our
respective observations, on matters connected with the natives, and for
the obliging manner in which he has furnished me with many of his own
important and well-arranged notes on various points of interest in their
history.
By this aid, I am enabled, in the following pages, to combine my own
observations and experience with those of Mr. Moorhouse, especially on
points connected with the Adelaide Tribes. In some cases, extracts from
Mr. Moorhouse's notes, will be copied in his own words, but in most I
found an alteration or rearrangement to be indispensable to enable me to
connect and amplify the subjects: I wish it to be particularly
understood, however, that with any deductions, inferences, remarks, or
suggestions, that may incidentally be introduced, Mr. Moorhouse is
totally unconnected, that gentleman's notes refer exclusively to abstract
matters of fact, relating to the habits, customs, or peculiarities of the
people treated of, and are generally confined to the Adelaide Tribes.
[Note 38: Some few of these notes were printed in the Colony, in a
detached form, as Reports to the Colonial Government, or in the
Vocabularies of the Missionaries, and since my return to England I find
others have been published in papers, ordered to be printed by the House
of Commons, in August 1844. From the necessity, however, of altering in
some measure the phraseology, to combine Mr. Moorhouse's remarks with my
own, and to preserve a uniformity in the descriptions, it has not been
practicable or desirable in all cases, to separate or distinguish by
inverted commas, those observations which I have adopted. I have,
therefore, preferred making a general acknowledgment of the use I have
made of the notes that were supplied to me by Mr. Moorhouse.]
In the descriptions given in the following pages, although there may
occasionally be introduced, accounts of the habits, manners, or customs
of some of the tribes inhabiting different parts of Australia I have
visited, yet there are others which are exclusively peculiar to the
natives of South Australia. I wish it, therefore, to be understood, that
unless mention is made of other tribes, or other parts of the continent,
the details given are intended to apply to that province generally, and
particularly to the tribes in it, belonging to the districts of Adelaide
and the Murray river.
As far as has yet been ascertained, the whole of the aboriginal
inhabitants of this continent, scattered as they are over an immense
extent of country, bear so striking a resemblance in physical appearance
and structure to each other; and their general habits, customs, and
pursuits, are also so very similar, though modified in some respects by
local circumstances or climate, that little doubt can be entertained that
all have originally sprung from the same stock. The principal points of
difference, observable between various tribes, appear to consist chiefly
in some of their ceremonial observances, and in the variations of dialect
in the language they speak; the latter are, indeed, frequently so great,
that even to a person thoroughly acquainted with any one dialect, there
is not the slightest clue by which he can understand what is said by a
tribe speaking a different one.
The only account I have yet met with, which professed to give any
particular description of the Aborigines of New Holland, is that
contained in the able papers upon this subject, by Captain Grey, in the
second volume of his travels. When it is considered, that the material
for that purpose was collected by the author, during a few months
interval between his two expeditions, which he spent at Swan River, and a
short time subsequently passed at King George's Sound, whilst holding the
appointment of Government Resident there; it is perfectly surprising that
the amount of information amassed should be so great, and so generally
correct, on subjects where so many mistakes are liable to be made, in all
first inquiries, when we are ignorant of the character and habits of the
people of whom information is to be sought, and unacquainted with the
language they speak.
The subject, however, upon a portion of which Captain Grey so
successfully entered, is very extensive, and one which no single
individual, except by the devotion of a life-time, could hope fully to
discuss. The Continent of Australia is so vast, and the dialects,
customs, and ceremonies of its inhabitants so varied in detail, though so
similar in general outline and character, that it will require the lapse
of years, and the labours of many individuals, to detect and exhibit the
links which form the chain of connection in the habits and history of
tribes so remotely separated; and it will be long before any one can
attempt to give to the world a complete and well-drawn outline of the
whole.
It is not therefore to satisfy curiosity, or to interrupt the course of
inquiry, that I enter upon the present work; I neither profess, nor could
I attempt to give a full or matured account of the Aborigines of New
Holland. Captain Grey's descriptions on this subject are limited to the
races of South-western, as mine are principally directed to those of
Southern Australia, with occasionally some remarks or anecdotes relating
to tribes in other parts of the Continent with whom I have come in
contact.
The character of the Australian native has been so constantly
misrepresented and traduced, that by the world at large he is looked upon
as the lowest and most degraded of the human species, and is generally
considered as ranking but little above the members of the brute creation.
Savages have always many vices, but I do not think that these are worse
in the New Hollanders, than in many other aboriginal races. It is said,
indeed, that the Australian is an irreclaimable, unteachable being; that
he is cruel, blood-thirsty, revengeful, and treacherous; and in support
of such assertions, references are made to the total failure of all
missionary and scholastic efforts hitherto made on his behalf, and to
many deeds of violence or aggression committed by him upon the settler.
[Note 39: I cannot adduce a stronger proof in support of the position I
assume, in favour of the natives, than by quoting the clear and just
conclusions at which the Right Honourable Lord Stanley, the present
Secretary of State for the Colonies, arrived, when considering the case of
some collisions with the natives on the Ovens River, and after a full
consideration of the various circumstances connected with the occurrence.
In a despatch to Governor Sir G. Gipps, dated 5th October, 1841, Lord
Stanley says, "Contrasting the accounts of the Aborigines given by Mr.
Docker with those given by Mr. Mackay, and the different terms on which
those gentlemen appear to be with them in the same vicinity, I cannot
divest myself of the apprehension that the fault in this case lies with
the colonists rather than with the natives. It was natural, that conduct
so harsh and intemperate as that of the Messrs. Mackay should be signally
visited on them, and probably also on wholly unoffending persons, by a
race of uninstructed and ignorant savages. At the same time the case of
Mr. Docker affords a most satisfactory instance of natives entering into
permanent service with white men, and working, as they appear to do,
steadily for wages."]