The Project Gutenberg EBook of Two Expeditions in the Interior of Southern
Australia, Volume II, by Charles Sturt
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Two Expeditions in the Interior of Southern Australia, Volume II
Author: Charles Sturt
Release Date: June 29, 2009 [EBook #4329]
Release Date: August, 2003
First Posted: January 8, 2002
Last Updated: July 28, 2002
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO EXPEDITIONS--SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA ***
Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
TWO EXPEDITIONS INTO THE INTERIOR OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA,
VOLUME II
by
Charles Sturt
TWO EXPEDITIONS INTO THE INTERIOR OF SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA DURING THE
YEARS 1828, 1829, 1830, 1831 WITH OBSERVATIONS ON THE SOIL, CLIMATE AND
GENERAL RESOURCES OF THE COLONY OF NEW SOUTH WALES.
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOLUME II.
"For though most men are contented only to see a river as it runs by
them, and talk of the changes in it as they happen; when it is
troubled, or when clear; when it drowns the country in a flood, or
forsakes it in a drought: yet he that would know the nature of the
water, and the causes of those accidents (so as to guess at their
continuance or return), must find out its source, and observe with what
strength it rises, what length it runs, and how many small streams fall
in, and feed it to such a height, as make it either delightful or
terrible to the eye, and useful or dangerous to the country about
it."...SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE'S NETHERLANDS.
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME
EXPEDITION DOWN THE MORUMBIDGEE AND MURRAY RIVERS, IN 1829, 1830 AND
1831.
CHAPTER I.
Introductory--Remarks on the results of the former Expedition--The
fitting out of another determined on--Its objects--Provisions,
accoutrements, and retinue--Paper furnished by Mr. Kent--Causes that
have prevented the earlier appearance of the present work.
CHAPTER II.
Commencement of the expedition in November, 1829.--Joined by Mr. George
M'Leay--Appearance of the party--Breadalbane Plains--Hospitality of Mr.
O'Brien--Yass Plains--Hill of Pouni--Path of a hurricane--Character of
the country between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee--Appearance of that
river--Junction of the Dumot with it--Crossing and recrossing--Geological
character and general aspect of the country--Plain of Pondebadgery--Few
natives seen.
CHAPTER III.
Character of the Morumbidgee where it issues from the hilly
country--Appearance of approach to swamps--Hamilton Plains--Intercourse
with the natives--Their appearance, customs, &c.--Change in the
character of the river--Mirage--Dreariness of the country--Ride towards
the Lachlan river--Two boats built and launched on the Morumbidgee; and
the drays, with part of the men sent back to Goulburn Plains.
CHAPTER IV.
Embarkation of the party in the boats, and voyage down the
Morumbidgee--The skiff swamped by striking on a sunken tree--Recovery
of boat and its loading--Region of reeds--Dangers of the
navigation--Contraction of the channel--Reach the junction of a large
river--Intercourse with the natives on its banks--Character of the
country below the junction of the rivers--Descent of a dangerous
rapid--Warlike demonstrations of a tribe of natives--Unexpected
deliverance from a conflict with them--Junction of another river--Give
the name of the "Murray" to the principal stream.
CHAPTER V.
Character of the country--Damage of provisions--Adroitness of the
natives in catching fish--The skiff broken up--Stream from the
North-East supposed to be the Darling--Change of country in descending
the river--Intercourse with the natives--Prevalence of loathsome
diseases among them--Apparent populousness of the country--Junction of
several small streams--The Rufus, the Lindesay, &c.--Rainy and
tempestuous weather--Curious appearance of the banks--Troublesomeness
of the natives--Inhospitable and desolate aspect of the
country--Condition of the men--Change in the geological character of
the country--The river passes through a valley among hills.
CHAPTER VI.
Improvement in the aspect of the country--Increase of the river--Strong
westerly gales--Chronometer broken--A healthier tribe of
natives--Termination of the Murray in a large lake--Its extent and
environs--Passage across it--Hostile appearance of the natives--Beautiful
scenery--Channel from the lake to the sea at Encounter Bay--Reach the
beach--Large flocks of water fowl--Curious refraction--State of
provisions--Embarrassing situation--Inspection of the channel to the
ocean--Weak condition of the men--Difficulties of the return.
CHAPTER VII.
Valley of the Murray--Its character and capabilities--Laborious
progress up the river--Accident to the boat--Perilous collision with
the natives--Turbid current of the Rufus--Passage of the
Rapids--Assisted by the natives--Dangerous intercourse with
them--Re-enter the Morumbidgee--Verdant condition of its
banks--Nocturnal encounter with the natives--Interesting manifestation
of feeling in one family--Reach the spot where the party had embarked
on the river--Men begin to fail entirely--Determine to send two men
forward for relief--Their return--Excursion on horseback--Reach
Pondebadgery Plain, and meet the supplies from the colony--Cannibalism
of the natives--Return to Sydney--Concluding remarks.
CHAPTER VIII.
Environs of the lake Alexandrina--Appointment of Capt. Barker to make a
further survey of the coast near Encounter Bay--Narrative of his
proceedings--Mount Lofty, Mount Barker, and beautiful country
adjacent--Australian salmon--Survey of the coast--Outlet of lake to the
sea--Circumstances that led to the slaughter of Capt. Barker by the
natives--His character--Features of this part of the country and
capabilities of its coasts--Its adaptation for colonization--Suggestions
for the furtherance of future Expeditions.
APPENDIX.
No. I. Geological Specimens found to the south-west of Port Jackson
No. II. Official Report to the Colonial Government
ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE SECOND VOLUME
(Not included in this etext)
View on the Morumbidgee River
Junction of the supposed Darling with the Murray
Palaeornis Melanura, or Black Tailed Paroquet
Pomatorhinus Temporalis
Pomatorhinus Superciliosus
Chart of Cape Jervis, and Encounter Bay
Mass of Fossils of the Tertiary Formation
Bulla
Conus
Genus Unknown
Chrystallized Selenite
Selenite
Single Fossils of the Tertiary Formation
EXPEDITION DOWN THE MORUMBIDGEE AND MURRAY RIVERS, IN 1829, 1830 AND
1831.
CHAPTER I.
Introductory
Remarks on the results of the former Expedition--The fitting out of
another determined on--Its objects--Provisions, accoutrements, and
retinue--Paper furnished by Mr. Kent--Causes that have prevented the
earlier appearance of the present work.
OBJECTS OF THE EXPEDITION.
The expedition of which we have just detailed the proceedings was so
far satisfactory in its results, that it not only set at rest the
hypothesis of the existence of an internal shoal sea in southern
Australia, and ascertained the actual termination of the rivers it had
been directed to trace, but also added very largely to our knowledge of
the country considerably to the westward of former discoveries. And
although no land had been traversed of a fertile description of
sufficient extent to invite the settler, the fact of a large river such
as the Darling lying at the back of our almost intertropical
settlements, gave a fresh importance to the distant interior. It was
evident that this river was the chief drain for carrying off the waters
falling westerly from the eastern coast, and as its course indicated a
decline of country diametrically opposite to that which had been
calculated upon, it became an object of great importance to ascertain
its further direction. Had not the saline quality of its waters been
accounted for, by the known existence of brine springs in its bed, it
would have been natural to have supposed that it communicated with some
mediterranean sea; but, under existing circumstances, it remained to be
proved whether this river held on a due south course, or whether it
ultimately turned westerly, and ran into the heart of the interior. In
order fully to determine this point, it would be necessary to regain it
banks, so far below the parallel to which it had been traced as to
leave no doubt of its identity; but it was difficult to fix upon a plan
for approaching that central stream without suffering from the want of
water, since it could hardly be expected that the Lachlan would afford
such means, as it was reasonable to presume that its termination was
very similar to that of the Macquarie. The attention of the government
was, consequently, fixed upon the Morumbidgee, a river stated to be of
considerable size and of impetuous current. Receiving its supplies from
the lofty ranges behind Mount Dromedary, it promised to hold a longer
course than those rivers which, depending on periodical rains alone for
existence, had been found so soon to exhaust themselves.
PREPARATIONS.
The fitting out of another expedition was accordingly determined upon;
and about the end of September 1829, I received the Governor's
instructions to make the necessary preparations for a second descent
into the interior, for the purpose of tracing the Morumbidgee, or such
rivers as it might prove to be connected with, as far as practicable.
In the event of failure in this object, it was hoped that an attempt to
regain the banks of the Darling on a N.W. course from the point at
which the expedition might be thwarted in its primary views, would not
be unattended with success. Under any circumstances, however, by
pursuing these measures, an important part of the colony would
necessarily be traversed, of which the features were as yet altogether
unknown.
It became my interest and my object to make the expedition as complete
as possible, and, as far as in me lay, to provide for every
contingency: and as it appeared to me that, in all likelihood, we
should in one stage or other of our journey have to trust entirely to
water conveyance, I determined on taking a whale-boat, whose dimensions
and strength should in some measure be proportioned to the service
required. I likewise constructed a small still for the distillation of
water, in the event of our finding the water of the Darling salt, when
we should reach its banks. The whale-boat, after being fitted, was
taken to pieces for more convenient carriage, as has been more
particularly detailed in the last chapter of the preceding volume.
So little danger had been apprehended from the natives in the former
journey, that three firelocks had been considered sufficient for our
defence. On the present occasion, however, I thought it adviseable to
provide arms for each individual.
Mr. Hume declined accompanying me, as the harvest was at hand. Mr.
George M'Leay therefore supplied his place, rather as a companion than
as an assistant; and of those who accompanied me down the banks of the
Macquarie, I again selected Harris (my body servant), Hopkinson, and
Fraser.
MR. KENT'S REPORT.
The concluding chapter of this volume, relative to the promontory of
St. Vincent, or Cape Jervis, has been furnished me by the kindness of
Mr. Kent, who accompanied the lamented officer to whom the further
exploration of that part of coast unhappily proved fatal. There is a
melancholy coincidence between Captain Barker's death and that of
Captain Cook, which cannot fail to interest the public, as the
information that has been furnished will call for their serious
consideration. I shall leave for their proper place, the remarks I have
to offer upon it, since my motive in these prefatory observations has
been, to carry the reader forward to that point at which he will have
to view the proceedings of the expedition alone, in order the more
satisfactorily to arrive at their results. And, although he must expect
a considerable portion of dry reading in the following pages, I have
endeavoured to make the narrative of events, some of which are
remarkably striking, as interesting as possible.
REMARKS ON THE PRESENT WORK; DELIVERANCE FROM DANGERS.
It only remains for me to refer the reader to the concluding chapter of
the preceding volume, for such general information as I have been
enabled to furnish upon the nature of the services on which I was
employed, and on the manner of conducting similar expeditions. Indeed,
I trust that this book (whatever be its defects) will be found to
contain much valuable information of a practical character, and I may
venture to affirm, that it will give a true description of the country,
and of the various other subjects of which it treats.
Notwithstanding that I have in my dedication alluded to the causes that
prevented the earlier appearance of this work, I feel it due both to
myself and the public here to state, that during these expeditions my
health had suffered so much, that I was unable to bear up against the
effects of exposure, bodily labour, poverty of diet, and the anxiety of
mind to which I was subjected. A residence on Norfolk Island, under
peculiarly harassing circumstances, completed that which the above
causes had commenced; and, after a succession of attacks, I became
totally blind, and am still unable either to read what I pen, or to
venture abroad without an attendant. When it is recollected, that I
have been unassisted in this work in any one particular, I hope some
excuse will be found for its imperfections. A wish to contribute to the
public good led me to undertake those journeys which have cost me so
much. The same feeling actuates me in recording their results; and I
have the satisfaction to know, that my path among a large and savage
population was a bloodless one; and that my intercourse with them was
such as to lessen the danger to future adventurers upon such hazardous
enterprises, and to give them hope where I had so often despaired.
Something more powerful, than human foresight or human prudence,
appeared to avert the calamities and dangers with which I and my
companions were so frequently threatened; and had it not been for the
guidance and protection we received from the Providence of that good
and all-wise Being to whose care we committed ourselves, we should, ere
this, have ceased to rank among the number of His earthly creatures.
CHAPTER II.
Commencement of the expedition in November, 1829.--Joined by Mr. George
M'Leay--Appearance of the party--Breadalbane Plains--Hospitality of Mr.
O'Brien--Yass Plains--Hill of Pouni--Path of a hurricane--Character of
the country between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee--Appearance of that
river--Junction of the Dumot with it--Crossing and recrossing--Geological
character and general aspect of the country--Plain of Pondebadgery--Few
natives seen.
The expedition which traversed the marshes of the Macquarie, left
Sydney on the 10th day of Nov. 1828. That destined to follow the waters
of the Morumbidgee, took its departure from the same capital on the 3rd
of the same month in the ensuing year. Rain had fallen in the interval,
but not in such quantities as to lead to the apprehension that it had
either influenced or swollen the western streams. It was rather
expected that the winter falls would facilitate the progress of the
expedition, and it was hoped that, as the field of its operations would
in all probability be considerably to the south of the parallel of Port
Jackson, the extreme heat to which the party and the animals had been
exposed on the former journey, would be less felt on the present
occasion.
As there was no Government establishment to the S.W. at which I could
effect any repairs, or recruit my supplies, as I had done at Wellington
Valley, the expedition, when it left Sydney, was completed in every
branch, and was so fully provided with every necessary implement and
comfort, as to render any further aid, even had such been attainable,
in a great measure unnecessary. The Governor had watched over my
preparations with a degree of anxiety that evidenced the interest he
felt in the expedition, and his arrangements to ensure, as far as
practicable, our being met on our return, in the event of our being in
distress, were equally provident and satisfactory. It was not, however,
to the providing for our wants in the interior alone that His
Excellency's views were directed, but orders were given to hold a
vessel in readiness, to be dispatched at a given time to St. Vincent's
Gulf, in case we should ultimately succeed in making the south coast in
its neighbourhood.
LEAVE SYDNEY.
The morning on which I left Sydney a second time, under such doubtful
circumstances, was perfectly serene and clear. I found myself at 5 a.m.
of that delightful morning leading my horses through the gates of those
barracks whose precincts I might never again enter, and whose inmates I
might never again behold assembled in military array. Yet, although the
chance of misfortune flashed across my mind, I was never lighter at
heart, or more joyous in spirit. It appeared to me that the stillness
and harmony of nature influenced my feelings on the occasion, and my
mind forgot the storms of life, as nature at that moment seemed to have
forgotten the tempests that sometimes agitate her.
APPEARANCE OF THE PARTY.
I proceeded direct to the house of my friend Mr. J. Deas Thomson, who
had agreed to accompany me to Brownlow Hill, a property belonging to
Mr. M'Leay, the Colonial Secretary, where his son, Mr. George M'Leay,
was to join the expedition. As soon as we had taken a hasty breakfast,
I went to the carters' barracks to superintend the first loading of the
animals. Mr. Murray, the superintendent, had arranged every article so
well, and had loaded the drays so compactly that I had no trouble, and
little time was lost in saddling the pack animals. At a quarter before
7 the party filed through the turnpike-gate, and thus commenced its
journey with the greatest regularity. I have the scene, even at this
distance of time, vividly impressed upon my mind, and I have no doubt
the kind friend who was near me on the occasion, bears it as strongly
on his recollection. My servant Harris, who had shared my wanderings
and had continued in my service for eighteen years, led the advance,
with his companion Hopkinson. Nearly abreast of them the eccentric
Fraser stalked along wholly lost in thought. The two former had laid
aside their military habits, and had substituted the broad brimmed hat
and the bushman's dress in their place, but it was impossible to guess
how Fraser intended to protect himself from the heat or the damp, so
little were his habiliments suited for the occasion. He had his gun
over his shoulder, and his double shot belt as full as it could be of
shot, although there was not a chance of his expending a grain during
the day. Some dogs Mr. Maxwell had kindly sent me followed close at his
heels, as if they knew his interest in them, and they really seemed as
if they were aware that they were about to exchange their late
confinement for the freedom of the woods. The whole of these formed a
kind of advanced guard. At some distance in the rear the drays moved
slowly along, on one of which rode the black boy mentioned in my former
volume, and behind them followed the pack animals. Robert Harris, whom
I had appointed to superintend the animals generally, kept his place
near the horses, and the heavy Clayton, my carpenter, brought up the
rear. I shall not forget the interest Thomson appeared to take in a
scene that must certainly have been new to him. Our progress was not
checked by the occurrence of a single accident, nor did I think it
necessary to remain with the men after we had gained that turn which,
at about four miles from Sydney, branches off to the left, and leads
direct to Liverpool. From this Point my companion and I pushed forward,
in order to terminate a fifty miles' ride a little sooner than we
should have done at the leisurely pace we had kept during the early
part of our journey. We remained in Liverpool for a short time, to
prepare the commissariat office for the reception, and to ensure the
accommodation, of the party; and reached Brownlow Hill a little after
sunset.
LIVERPOOL-GOULBURN PLAINS.
As I have already described the country on this line of road as far us
Goulburn Plains, it will not be considered necessary that I should
again notice its features with minuteness.
WALLANDILLY-TYRANNA.
The party arrived at Glendarewel, the farm attached to Brownlow Hill,
on the 5th. I resumed my journey alone on the 8th. M'Leay had still
some few arrangements to make, so that I dispensed with his immediate
attendance. He overtook me, however, sooner than I expected, on the
banks of the Wallandilly. I had encamped under the bluff end of
Cookbundoon, and, having been disappointed in getting bearings when
crossing the Razor Back, I hoped that I should be enabled to connect a
triangle from the summit of Cookbundoon, or to secure bearings of some
prominent hill to the south. I found the brush, however, so thick on
the top of the mountain, that I could obtain no satisfactory view, and
and M'Leay, who accompanied me, agreed with me in considering that we
were but ill repaid for the hot scramble we had had. Crossing the
western extremity of Goulburn Plains on the 15th, we encamped on a
chain of ponds behind Doctor Gibson's residence at Tyranna, and as I
had some arrangements to make with that gentleman, I determined to give
both the men and animals a day's rest. I availed myself of Doctor
Gibson's magazines to replace such of my provisions as I had expended,
as I found that I could do so without putting him to any inconvenience;
and I added two of his men to the party, intending to send them back,
in case of necessity, or, when we should have arrived at that point
from which it might appear expedient to forward an account of my
progress and ultimate views, for the governor's information.
On the 17th we struck the tents, and, crossing the chain of ponds near
which they had been pitched, entered a forest track, that gave place to
barren stony ridges of quartz formation. These continued for six or
seven miles, in the direction of Breadalbane Plains, upon which we were
obliged to stop, as we should have had some difficulty in procuring
either water or food, within any moderate distance beyond them. The
water, indeed, that we were obliged to content ourselves with was by no
means good. Breadalbane Plains are of inconsiderable extent, and are
surrounded by ridges, the appearance of which is not very promising.
Large white masses of quartz rock lie scattered over them, amongst
trees of stunted growth. Mr. Redall's farm was visible at the further
extremity of the plains from that by which we had entered them. It
would appear that these plains are connected with Goulburn Plains by a
narrow valley, that was too wet for the drays to have traversed.
BREADALBANE PLAINS.
Doctor Gibson had kindly accompanied us to Breadalbane Plains. On the
morning of the 18th he returned to Tyranna, and we pursued our journey,
keeping mostly on a W.S.W. course. From the barren hills over which we
passed, on leaving the plains, we descended upon an undulating country,
and found a change of rock, as well as of vegetation, upon it. Granite
and porphyry constituted its base. An open forest, on which the
eucalyptus mannifera alone prevailed, lay on either side of us, and
although the soil was coarse, and partook in a great measure of the
decomposition of the rock it covered, there was no deficiency of grass.
On the contrary, this part of the interior is decidedly well adapted
for pasturing cattle.
THE LORN.
About 1 p.m. we passed Mr. Hume's station, with whom I remained for a
short time. He had fixed his establishment on the banks of the Lorn, a
small river, issuing from the broken country near Lake George, and now
ascertained to be one of the largest branches of the Lachlan River. We
had descended a barren pass of stringy bark scrub, on sandstone rock, a
little before we reached Mr. Hume's station, but around it the same,
open forest tract again prevailed. We crossed the Lorn, at 2 o'clock,
leaving Mr. Broughton's farm upon our left, and passed through a broken
country, which was very far from being deficient in pasture. We
encamped on the side of a water-course, about 4 o'clock, having
travelled about fifteen miles.
On the 19th, we observed no change in the soil or aspect of the
country, for the first five miles. The eucalyptus mannifera was the
most prevalent of the forest trees, and certainly its presence
indicated a more flourishing state in the minor vegetation. At about
five miles, however, from where we had slept, sandstone reappeared, and
with it the barren scrub that usually grows upon a sandy and
inhospitable soil. One of the drays was upset in its progress down a
broken pass, where the road had been altogether neglected, and it was
difficult to avoid accidents. Fortunately we suffered no further than
in the delay that the necessity of unloading the dray, and reloading
it, occasioned. Mr. O'Brien, an enterprising settler, who had pushed
his flocks to the banks of the Morumbidgee, and who was proceeding to
visit his several stations, overtook us in the midst of our troubles.
We had already passed each other frequently on the road, but he now
preceded me to his establishment at Yass; at which I proposed remaining
for a day. We stopped about three miles short of the plains for the
night, at the gorge of the pass through which we had latterly been
advancing, and had gradually descended to a more open country. From the
place at which we were temporarily delayed, and which is not
inappropriately called the Devil's Pass, the road winds about between
ranges, differing in every respect from any we had as yet noticed. The
sides of the hills were steeper, and their summits sharper, than any we
had crossed. They were thickly covered with eucalypti and brush, and,
though based upon sandstone, were themselves of a schistose formation.
YASS PLAINS.
Yharr or Yass Plains were discovered by Mr. Hovel, and Mr. Hume, the
companion of my journey down the Macquarie, in 1828. They take their
name from the little river that flows along their north and north-west
boundaries. They are surrounded on every side by forests, and excepting
to the W.N.W., as a central point, by hill. Undulating, but naked
themselves, they have the appearance of open downs, and are most
admirably adapted for sheep-walks, not only in point of vegetation, but
also, because their inequalities prevent their becoming swampy during
the rainy season. They are from nine to twelve miles in length, and
from five to seven in breadth, and although large masses of sandstone
are scattered over them, a blue secondary limestone composes the
general bed of the river, that was darker in colour and more compact
than I had remarked the same kind of rock, either at Wellington Valley,
or in the Shoal Haven Gully. I have no doubt that Yass Plains will ere
long be wholly taken up as sheep-walks, and that their value to the
grazier will in a great measure counterbalance its distance from the
coast, or, more properly speaking, from the capital. Sheep I should
imagine would thrive uncommonly well upon these plains, and would
suffer less from distempers incidental to locality and to climate, than
in many parts of the colony over which they are now wandering in
thousands. And if the plains themselves do not afford extensive arable
tracts, there is, at least, sufficient good land near the river to
supply the wants of a numerous body of settlers.
HOSPITALITY OF MR. O'BRIEN.
We left Mr. O'Brien's station on the morning of the 21st, and,
agreeably to his advice, determined on gaining the Morumbidgee, by a
circuit to the N.W., rather than endanger the safety of the drays by
entering the mountain passes to the westward. Mr. O'Brien, however,
would not permit us to depart from his dwelling without taking away
with us some further proofs of his hospitality. The party had pushed
forward before I, or Mr. M'Leay, had mounted our horses; but on
overtaking it, we found that eight fine wethers had been added to our
stock of animals.
HILL OF POUNI; ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY.
To the W.N.W. of Yass Plains there is a remarkable hill, called Pouni,
remarkable not so much on account of its height, as of its commanding
position. It had, I believe, already been ascended by one of the
Surveyor-general's assistants. The impracticability of the country to
the south of it, obliged us to pass under its opposite base, from which
an open forest country extended to the northward. We had already
recrossed the Yass River, and passed Mr. Barber's station, to that of
Mr. Hume's father, at which we stopped for a short time. Both farms are
well situated, the latter I should say, romantically so, it being
immediately under Pouni, the hill we have noticed. The country around
both was open, and both pasture and water were abundant.
Mr. O'Brien had been kind enough to send one of the natives who
frequented his station to escort us to his more advanced station upon
the Morumbidgee. Had it not been for the assistance we received from
this man, I should have had but little leisure for other duties: as it
was however, there was no fear of the party going astray. This gave
M'Leay and myself an opportunity of ascending Pouni, for the purpose of
taking bearings; and how ever warm the exertion of the ascent made us,
the view from the summit of the hill sufficiently repaid us, and the
cool breeze that struck it, although imperceptible in the forest below,
soon dried the perspiration from our brows. The scenery around us was
certainly varied, yet many parts of it put me forcibly in mind of the
dark and gloomy tracks over which my eye had wandered from similar
elevations on the former journey. This was especially the case in
looking to the north, towards which point the hills forming the right
of the valley by which we had entered the plains, decreased so rapidly
in height that they were lost in the general equality of the more
remote country, almost ere they had reached abreast of my position.
From E.S.E. to W.S.W. the face of the country was hilly, broken and
irregular; forming deep ravines and precipitous glens, amid which I was
well aware the Morumbidgee was still struggling for freedom; while
mountains succeeded mountains in the back-ground, and were themselves
overtopped by lofty and very distant peaks. To the eastward, however,
the hills wore a more regular form, and were lightly covered with wood.
The plains occupied the space between them and Pouni; and a smaller
plain bore N.N.E. which, being embosomed in the forest, had hitherto
escaped our notice.
We overtook the party just as it cleared the open ground through which
it had previously been moving. A barren scrub succeeded it for about
eight miles. The soil in this scrub was light and sandy.
We stopped for the night at the head of a valley that seemed to have
been well trodden by cattle. The feed, therefore, was not abundant, nor
was the water good. We had, however, made a very fair journey, and I
was unwilling to press the animals. But in consequence, I fancy, of the
scarcity of food, they managed to creep away during the night, with the
exception of three or four of the bullocks, nor should we have
collected them again so soon as we did, or without infinite trouble,
had it not been for our guide and my black boy. We unavoidably lost a
day, but left our position on the 23rd, for Underaliga, a station
occupied by Doctor Harris, the gentleman I have already had occasion to
mention. We reached the banks of the creek near the stock hut, about 4
p.m., having journeyed during the greater part of the day through a
poor country, partly of scrub and partly of open forest-land, in
neither of which was the soil or vegetation fresh or abundant. At about
three miles from Underaliga, the country entirely changed its
character, and its flatness was succeeded by a broken and undulating
surface. The soil upon the hills was coarse and sandy, from the
decomposition of the granite rock that constituted their base.
Nevertheless, the grass was abundant on the hills, though the roots or
tufts were far apart; and the hills were lightly studded with trees.
COURSE OF A HURRICANE.
In the course of the day we crossed the line of a hurricane that had
just swept with resistless force over the country, preserving a due
north course, and which we had heard from a distance, fortunately too
great to admit of its injuring us. It had opened a fearful gap in the
forest through which it had passed, of about a quarter of a mile in
breadth. Within that space, no tree had been able to withstand its
fury, for it had wrenched every bough from such as it had failed to
prostrate, and they stood naked in the midst of the surrounding wreck.
I am inclined to think that the rudeness of nature itself in these wild
and uninhabited regions, gives birth to these terrific phenomena. They
have never occurred, so far as I know, in the located districts. Our
guide deserted us in the early part of the day without assigning any
reason for doing so. He went off without being noticed, and thus lost
the reward that would have been bestowed on him had he mentioned his
wish to return to Yass. I the more regretted his having sneaked off,
because he had had the kindness to put us on a track we could not well
lose.
COUNTRY FROM UNDERALIGA TO MORUMBIDGEE.
Underaliga, is said to be thirty miles from the Morumbidgee. The
country between the two has a sameness of character throughout. It is
broken and irregular, yet no one hill rises conspicuously over the
rest. We found ourselves at one time on their summits beside huge
masses of granite, at others crossing valleys of rich soil and green
appearance. A country under cultivation is so widely different from one
the sod of which has never been broken by the plough, that it is
difficult and hazardous to form a decided opinion on the latter. If you
ask a stockman what kind of a country lies, either to his right, or to
his left, he is sure to condemn it, unless it will afford the most
abundant pasture. Accustomed to roam about from one place to another,
these men despise any but the richest tracts, and include the rest of
the neighbourhood in one sweeping clause of condemnation. Thus I was
led to expect, that we should pass over a country of the very worst
description, between Underaliga and the Morumbidgee. Had it been
similar to that midway between Yass and Underaliga, we should, in
truth, have found it so; but it struck me, that there were many rich
tracts of ground among the valleys of the former, and that the very
hills had a fair covering of grass upon them. What though the soil was
coarse, if the vegetation was good and sufficient? Perhaps the greatest
drawback to this part of the interior is the want of water; yet we
crossed several creeks, and remarked some deep water holes, that can
never be exhausted, even in the driest season. Wherever the situation
favoured our obtaining a view of the country on either side of us,
while among these hills, we found that to the eastward lofty and
mountainous; whilst that to the westward, had the appearance of fast
sinking into a level.
JUGGIONG.
A short time before we reached the Morumbidgee, we forded a creek,
which we crossed a second time where it falls into the river. After
crossing it the first time we opened a flat, on which the marks of
sheep were abundant. In the distance there was a small hill, and on its
top a bark hut. We were not until then aware of our being so near the
river, but as Mr. O'Brien had informed me that he had a station for
sheep, at a place called Juggiong, by the natives, on the immediate
banks of the river, I did not doubt that we had, at length, arrived at
it. And so it proved. I went to the hut, to ascertain where I could
conveniently stop for the night, but the residents were absent. I could
not but admire the position they had taken up. The hill upon which
their hut was erected was not more than fifty feet high, but it
immediately overlooked the river, and commanded not only the flat we
had traversed in approaching it, but also a second flat on the opposite
side. The Morumbidgee came down to the foot of this little hill from
the south, and, of course, running to the north, which latter direction
it suddenly takes up from a previous S.W. one, on meeting some hills
that check its direct course. From the hill on which the hut stands, it
runs away westward, almost in a direct line, for three miles, so that
the position commands a view of both the reaches, which are overhung by
the casuarina and flooded-gum. Rich alluvial flats lie to the right of
the stream, backed by moderate hills, that were lightly studded with
trees, and clothed with verdure to their summits. Some moderate
elevations also backed a flat, on the left bank of the river, but the
colour of the soil upon the latter, as well as its depressed situation,
showed clearly that it was subject to flood, and had received the worst
of the depositions from the mountains. The hills behind it were also
bare, and of a light red colour, betraying, as I imagined, a distinct
formation from, and poorer character than, the hills behind us. At
about three miles the river again suddenly changes its direction from
west to south, for about a mile, when it inclines to the S.E. until it
nearly encircles the opposite hills, when it assumes its proper
direction, and flows away to the S.W.
CROSS THE UNDERALIGA; REACH THE MORUMBIDGEE.
We crossed the Underaliga creek a little below the stock hut, and
encamped about a mile beyond it, in the centre of a long plain. We were
surrounded on every side by hills, from which there was no visible
outlet, as they appeared to follow the bend of the river, with an even
and unbroken outline. The scenery around us was wild, romantic, and
beautiful; as beautiful as a rich and glowing sunset in the most
delightful climate under the heavens could make it. I had been more
anxious to gain the banks of the Morumbidgee on this occasion, than I
had been on a former one to gain those of the Macquarie, for although I
could not hope to see the Morumbidgee all that it had been described to
me, yet I felt that on its first appearance I should in some measure
ground my anticipations of ultimate success. When I arrived on the
banks of the Macquarie, it had almost ceased to flow, and its current
was so gentle as to be scarcely perceptible. Instead, however, of a
river in such a state of exhaustion, I now looked down upon a stream,
whose current it would have been difficult to breast, and whose waters,
foaming among rocks, or circling in eddies, gave early promise of a
reckless course. It must have been somewhat below its ordinary level,
and averaged a breadth of about 80 feet. Its waters were hard and
transparent, and its bed was composed of mountain debris, and large
fragments of rock. As soon as the morning dawned, the tents were struck
and we pursued our journey. We followed the line of the river, until we
found ourselves in a deep bight to the S.E. The hills that had been
gradually closing in upon the river, now approached it so nearly, that
there was no room for the passage of the drays. We were consequently
obliged to turn back, and, moving along the base of the ranges, by
which we were thus apparently enclosed, we at length found a steep
pass, the extreme narrowness of which had hidden it from our
observation. By this pass we were now enabled to effect our escape. On
gaining the summit of the hills, we travelled south for three or four
miles, through open forests, and on level ground. But we ultimately
descended into a valley in which we halted for the night. On a closer
examination of the neighbourhood, it appeared that our position was at
the immediate junction of two valleys, where, uniting the waters of
their respective creeks, the main branch declines rapidly towards the
river. One of these valleys extended to to the S.W., the other to the
W.N.W. It was evident to us that our route lay up the former; and I
made no doubt we should easily reach Whaby's station on the morrow.
ADJACENT COUNTRY.
We were now far beyond the acknowledged limits of the located parts of
the colony, and Mr. Whaby's station was the last at which we could
expect even the casual supply of milk or other trifling relief. Yet,
although the prospect of so soon leaving even the outskirts of
civilization, and being wholly thrown on our own resources, was so
near, it never for a moment weighed upon the minds of the men. The
novelty of the scenery, and the beauty of the river on which they were
journeying, excited in them the liveliest anticipations of success. The
facility with which we had hitherto pushed forward blinded them to
future difficulties, nor could there be a more cheerful spectacle than
that which the camp daily afforded. The animals browzing in the
distance, and the men talking over their pipes of the probable
adventures they might encounter. The loads had by this time settled
properly, and our provisions proved of the very best quality, so that
no possible improvement could have been made for the better.
WHABY'S STATION.
On the morrow we pushed up the southernmost of the valleys, at the
junction of which we had encamped, having moderate hills on either side
of us. At the head of the valley we crossed a small dividing range into
another valley, and halted for the night, on the banks of a creek from
the westward, as we found it impossible to reach Whaby's station, as we
had intended, before sunset. Nothing could exceed the luxuriance of the
vegetation in this valley, but the water of the creek was so
impregnated with iron, as to be almost useless. Being anxious to obtain
a view of the surrounding country, I ascended a hill behind the camp,
just as the sun was sinking, a time the most favourable for the object
I had in view. The country, broken into hill and dale, seemed richer
than any tract I had as yet surveyed; and the beauty of the near
landscape was greatly heightened by the mountainous scenery to the S.
and S.E. Both the laxmania, and zanthorea were growing around me; but
neither appeared to be in congenial soil. The face of the hill was very
stony, and I found, on examination, that a great change had taken place
in the rock-formation, the granite ranges having given place to
chlorite schist.
We reached Whaby's about 9 a.m. of the morning of the 27th, and
received every attention and civility from him. The valley in which we
had slept opened upon an extensive plain, to the eastward of which the
Morumbidgee formed the extreme boundary; and it was in a bight, and on
ground rather elevated above the plain, that he had fixed his
residence. He informed me that we should have to cross the river, as
its banks were too precipitous, and the ranges too abrupt, to admit of
our keeping the right side; and recommended me to examine and fix upon
a spot at which to cross, before I again moved forward, expressing his
readiness to accompany me as a guide. We accordingly rode down the
river, to a place at which some stockman had effected a passage,--after
a week's labour in hewing out a canoe. I by no means intended that a
similar delay should occur in our case, but I saw no objection to our
crossing at the same place; since its depth, and consequent
tranquillity, rendered it eligible enough for that purpose.
THE RIVER DUMOT.
The Dumot river, another mountain stream, joins the Morumbidgee
opposite to Mr. Whaby's residence. It is little inferior to the latter
either in size or in the rapidity of its current, and, if I may rely on
the information I received, waters a finer country, the principal
rock-formation upon it being of limestone and whinstone. It rises
amidst the snowy ranges to the S.E., and its banks are better peopled
than those of the stream into which it discharges itself. Of course,
such a tributary enlarges the Morumbidgee considerably: indeed, the
fact is sufficiently evident from the appearance of the latter below
the junction.
During our ride with Whaby down its banks, we saw nothing but the
richest flats, almost entirely clear of timber and containing from 400
to 700 acres, backed by ranges that were but partially wooded, and were
clothed with verdure to their very summits. The herds that were
scattered over the first were almost lost in the height of the
vegetation, and the ranges served as natural barriers to prevent them
from straying away.
CROSS AND RE-CROSS THE MORUMBIDGEE.
On the following morning, we started for the place at which it had been
arranged that we should cross the Morumbidgee, but, though no more than
five miles in a direct line from Whaby's house, in consequence of the
irregularity of the ground, the drays did not reach it before noon. The
weight and quantity of our stores being taken into consideration, the
task we had before us was not a light one. Such, however, was the
industry of the men, that before it became dark the whole of them,
including the drays and sheep, were safely deposited on the opposite
bank. We were enabled to be thus expeditious, by means of a punt that
we made with the tarpaulins on an oblong frame. As soon as it was
finished, a rope was conveyed across the river, and secured to a tree,
and a running cord being then fastened to the punt, a temporary ferry
was established, and the removal of our stores rendered comparatively
easy. M'Leay undertook to drive the horses and cattle over a ford below
us, but he did not calculate on the stubborn disposition of the latter,
and, consequently, experienced some difficulty, and was well nigh swept
away by the current. So great was his difficulty, that he was obliged
to land, to his great discomfiture, amidst a grove of lofty nettles.
Mulholland, who accompanied him, and who happened to be naked, was
severly stung by them. The labour of the day was, however,
satisfactorily concluded, and we lay down to rest with feelings of
entire satisfaction.
A great part of the following day was consumed in reloading, nor did we
pursue our journey until after two o'clock. We then passed over tracks
on the left of the river of the same rich description that existed on
its right; they were much intersected by creeks, but were clear of
timber, and entirely out of the reach of floods. At about seven miles
from where we started, we found ourselves checked by precipitous rocks
jutting into the stream, and were obliged once more to make
preparations for crossing it. Instead of a deep and quiet reach,
however, the Morumbidgee here expanded into a fretful rapid; but it was
sufficiently shallow to admit of our taking the drays over, without the
trouble of unloading them. There was still, however, some labour
required in cutting down the banks, and the men were fully occupied
until after sunset; and so well did they work, that an hour's exertion
in the morning enabled us to make the passage with safety. On ascending
the right bank, we found that we had to force through a dense body of
reeds, covering some flooded land, at the base of a range terminating
upon the river; and we were obliged, in order to extricate ourselves
from our embarrassments, to pass to the N.W. of the point, and to cross
a low part of the range. This done, we met with no further
interruptions during the day, but travelled along rich and clear flats
to a deep bight below an angle of the river called Nangaar by the
natives; where we pitched our camp, and our animals revelled amid the
most luxuriant pasture. Only in one place did the sandy superficies
upon the plain indicate that it was there subject to flood.
The Morumbidgee from Juggiong to our present encampment had held a
general S.S.W. course, but from the summit of a hill behind the tents
it now appeared to be gradually sweeping round to the westward; and I
could trace the line of trees upon its banks, through a rich and
extensive valley in that direction, as far as my sight could reach. The
country to the S.E. maintained its lofty character, but to the westward
the hills and ranges were evidently decreasing in height, and the
distant interior seemed fast sinking to a level. The general direction
of the ranges had been from N. to S., and as we had been travelling
parallel to them, their valleys were shut from our view. Now, however,
several rich and extensive ones became visible, opening from the
southward into the valley of the Morumbidgee, and, as a further
evidence of a change of country from a confused to a more open one, a
plain of considerable size stretched from immediately beneath the hill
on which I was to the N.W.
GEOLOGY OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD.
The Morumbidgee itself, from the length and regularity of its reaches,
as well as from its increased size, seemed to intimate that it had
successfully struggled through the broken country in which it rises,
and that it would henceforward meet with fewer interruptions to its
course. It still, however, preserved all the characters of a mountain
stream; having alternate rapids and deep pools, being in many places
encumbered with fallen timber, and generally running over a shingly
bed, composed of rounded fragments of every rock of which the
neighbouring ranges were formed, and many others that had been swept by
the torrents down it. The rock formation of the hills upon its right
continued of that chlorite schist which prevailed near Mr. Whaby's,
which I have already noticed, and quartz still appeared in large
masses, on the loftier ranges opposite, so that the geology of the
neighbourhood could not be said to have undergone any material change.
It might, however, be considered an extraordinary feature in it, that a
small hill of blue limestone existed upon the left bank of the river.
The last place at which we had seen limestone was at Yass, but I had
learned from Mr. Whaby, that, together with whinstone, it was abundant
near a Mr. Rose's station on the Dumot, that was not at any great
distance. The irregularity, however, of the intervening country, made
the appearance of this solitary rock more singular.
Although the fires of the natives had been frequent upon the river,
none had, as yet, ventured to approach us, in consequence of some
misunderstanding that had taken place between them and Mr. Stuckey's
stockmen. Mr. Roberts' stockmen [these men had lately fixed themselves
on the river a little below Mr. Whaby's], however, brought a man and a
boy to us at this place in the afternoon, but I could not persuade them
to accompany us on our journey--neither could I, although my native boy
understood them perfectly, gain any particular information from them.
In consequence of rain, we did not strike the tents so early as usual.
At 7 a.m. a heavy thunder storm occurred from the N.W. after which the
sky cleared, and we were enabled to push forward at 11 a.m., moving on
a general W.N.W, course, over rich flats, which, having been moistened
by the morning's showers, showed the dark colour of the rich earth of
which they were composed. Some sand-hills were, however, observed near
the river, of about fifteen feet in elevation, crowned by banksias; and
the soil of the flats had a very partial mixture of sand in it. How
these sand-hills could have been formed it is difficult to say; but
they produced little minor vegetation, and were as pure as the sand of
the sea-shore. Some considerable plains were noticed to our right, in
appearance not inferior to the ground on which we were journeying. At
noon we rose gradually from the level of these plains, and travelled
along the side of a hill, until we got to a small creek, at which we
stopped, though more than a mile and a half from the river. The clouds
had been gathering again in the N.W. quarter, and we had scarcely time
to secure our flour, when a second storm burst upon us, and it
continued to rain violently for the remainder of the day.
BEAUTIFUL PROSPECT.
From a small hill that lay to our left Mr. M'Leay and I enjoyed a most
beautiful view. Beneath us to the S. E. the rich and lightly timbered
valley through which the Morumbidgee flows, extended, and parts of the
river were visible through the dark masses of swamp-oak by which it was
lined, or glittering among the flooded-gum trees, that grew in its
vicinity. In the distance was an extensive valley that wound between
successive mountain ranges. More to the eastward, both mountain and
woodland bore a dark and gloomy shade, probably in consequence of the
light upon them at the time. Those lofty peaks that had borne nearly
south of us from Pouni, near Yass, now rose over the last-mentioned
ranges, and by their appearance seemed evidently to belong to a high
and rugged chain. To the westward, the decline of country was more
observable than ever; and the hills on both sides of the river, were
lower and more distant from it. Those upon which we found ourselves
were composed of iron-stone, were precipitous towards the river in many
places, of sandy soil, and were crowned with beef-wood as well as box.
The change in the rock-formation and in the soil, produced a
corresponding change in the vegetation. The timber was not so large as
it had been, neither did the hills any longer bear the green appearance
which had distinguished those we had passed to their very summits. The
grass here grew in tufts amidst the sand, and was of a burnt appearance
as if it had suffered from drought.
NATIVES--THEIR SUFFERING FROM COLD.
Some natives had joined us in the morning, and acted as our guides; or
it is more than probable that we should have continued our course along
the river, and got enbarrassed among impediments that were visible from
our elevated position; for it was evident that the range we had
ascended terminated in an abrupt precipice on the river, that we could
not have passed. The blacks suffered beyond what I could have imagined,
from cold, and seemed as incapable of enduring it as if they had
experienced the rigour of a northern snow storm.
The morning of the 2nd December was cloudy and lowering, and the wind
still hung in the N.W. There was truly every appearance of bad weather,
but our anxiety to proceed on our journey overcame our apprehensions,
and the animals were loaded and moved off at 7 a.m. The rain which had
fallen the evening previous, rendered travelling heavy; so that we got
on but slowly. At 11, the clouds burst, and continued to pour down for
the rest of the day. On leaving the creek we crossed the spine of the
range, and descending from it into a valley, that continued to the
river on the one hand, and stretched away to the N.W. on the other, we
ascended some hills opposite to us, and moved generally through open,
undulating forest ground, affording good pasturage.
SMOKING AN OPOSSUM.
One of the blacks being anxious to get an opossum out of a dead tree,
every branch of which was hollow, asked for a tomahawk, with which he
cut a hole in the trunk above where he thought the animal lay
concealed. He found however, that he had cut too low, and that it had
run higher up. This made it necessary to smoke it out; he accordingly
got some dry grass, and having kindled a fire, stuffed it into the hole
he had cut. A raging fire soon kindled in the tree, where the draft was
great, and dense columns of smoke issued from the end of each branch as
thick as that from the chimney of a steam engine. The shell of the tree
was so thin that I thought it would soon be burnt through, and that the
tree would fall; but the black had no such fears, and, ascending to the
highest branch, he watched anxiously for the poor little wretch he had
thus surrounded with dangers and devoted to destruction; and no sooner
did it appear, half singed and half roasted, than he seized upon it and
threw it down to us with an air of triumph. The effect of the scene in
so lonely a forest, was very fine. The roaring of the fire in the tree,
the fearless attitude of the savage, and the associations which his
colour and appearance, enveloped as he was in smoke, called up, were
singular, and still dwell on my recollection. We had not long left the
tree, when it fell with a tremendous crash, and was, when we next
passed that way, a mere heap of ashes.
ACCIDENTS.
Shortly before it commenced raining, the dogs started an emu, and took
after it, followed by M'Leay and myself. We failed in killing it, and I
was unfortunate enough to lose a most excellent watch upon the
occasion, which in regularity was superior to the chronometer I had
with me.
As there was no hope of the weather clearing up, I sent M'Leay and one
of the blacks with the flour to the river, with directions to pile it
up and cover it with tarpaulins, as soon as possible, remaining myself
to bring up the drays. It was not, however, until after 4 p.m. that we
gained the river-side, or that we were enabled to get into shelter.
Fraser met with a sad accident while assisting the driver of the teams,
who, accidentally, struck him with the end of the lash of his whip in
the eye, and cut the lower lid in two. The poor fellow fell to the
ground as if he had been shot, and really, from the report of the whip,
I was at first uncertain of the nature of the accident.
PONDEBADGERY.
We had gradually ascended some hills; and as the sweep of the valley
led southerly, we continued along it until we got to its very head;
then, crossing the ridge we descended the opposite side, towards a
beautiful plain, on the further extremity of which the river line was
marked by the dark-leafed casuarina. In spite of the badness of the
weather and the misfortunes of the day, I could not but admire the
beauty of the scene. We were obliged to remain stationary the following
day, in consequence of one of the drays being out of repair, and
requiring a new axle-tree. I could hardly regret the necessity that
kept us in so delightful a spot. This plain, which the natives called
Pondebadgery, and in which a station has since been formed, is about
two miles in breadth, by about three and a-half in length. It is
surrounded apparently on every side by hills. The river running E. and
W. forms its southern boundary. The hills by which we had entered it,
terminating abruptly on the river to the north-east, form a semi-circle
round it to the N.N.W. where a valley, the end of which cannot be seen,
runs to the north-west, of about half a mile in breadth. On the
opposite side of the river moderate hills rise over each other, and
leave little space between them and its banks. The Morumbidgee itself,
with an increased breadth, averaging from seventy to eighty yards,
presents a still, deep sheet of water to the view, over which the
casuarina bends with all the grace of the willow, or the birch, but
with more sombre foliage. To the west, a high line of flooded-gum trees
extending from the river to the base of the hills which form the west
side of the valley before noticed, hides the near elevations, and thus
shuts in the whole space. The soil of the plain is of the richest
description, and the hills backing it, together with the valley, are
capable of depasturing the most extensive flocks.
Such is the general landscape from the centre of Pondebadgery Plain.
Behind the line of gum-trees, the river suddenly sweeps away to the
south, and forms a deep bight of seven miles, when, bearing up again to
the N.W. it meets some hills about 10 miles to the W.N.W. of the plain,
thus encircling a still more extensive space, that for richness of
soil, and for abundance of pasture, can nowhere be excelled; such,
though on a smaller scale, are all the flats that adorn the banks of
the Morumbidgee, first on one side and then on the other, as the hills
close in upon them, from Juggiong to Pondebadgery.
TRAVELLING DOWN THE RIVER.
It is deeply to be regretted that this noble river should exist at such
a distance from the capital as to be unavailable. During our stay on
the Pondebadgery Plain, the men caught a number of codfish, as they are
generally termed, but which are, in reality, a species of perch. The
largest weighed 40lb. but the majority of the others were small, not
exceeding from six to eight. M'Leay and I walked to the N.W. extremity
of the plain, in order to ascertain how we should debouche from it, and
to get, if possible, a view of the western interior. We took with us
two blacks who had attached themselves to the party, and had made
themselves generally useful. On ascending the most westerly of the
hills, we found it composed of micaceous schist, the upper coat of
which was extremely soft, and broke with a slaty fracture, or crumbled
into a sparkling dust beneath our feet. The summit of the hill was
barren, and beef-wood alone grew on it. The valley, of which it was the
western boundary, ran up northerly for two or three miles, with all the
appearance of richness and verdure. To the south extended the flat I
have noticed, more heavily timbered than we had usually found them,
bounded, or backed rather, by a hilly country, although one fast losing
in its general height. To the W.N.W. there was a moderate range of
hills on the opposite side of an extensive valley, running up
northerly, from which a lateral branch swept round to the W.N.W. with a
gradual ascent into the hills, which bore the same appearance of open
forest, grazing land, as prevailed in similar tracts to the eastward.
The blacks pointed out to us our route up the valley, and stated that
we should get on the banks of the river again in a direction W. by N.
from the place on which we stood. We accordingly crossed the principal
valley on the following morning, and gradually ascended the opposite
line of hills. They terminate to the S.E. in lofty precipices,
overlooking the river flats, and having a deep chain of ponds under
them. The descent towards the river was abrupt, and we encamped upon
its banks, with a more confined view than any we had ever had before.
There was an evident change in the river; the banks were reedy, the
channel deep and muddy, and the neighbourhood bore more the appearance
of being subject to overflow than it had done in any one place we had
passed over. The hills were much lower, and as we gained the southern
brow of that under which we encamped, we could see a level and wooded
country to the westward. The line of the horizon was unbroken by any
hills in the distance, and the nearer ones seemed gradually to lose
themselves in the darkness of the landscape.
The two natives, whom the stockmen had named Peter and Jemmie, were of
infinite service to us, from their knowledge of all the passes, and the
general features of the country. Having, however, seen us thus far on
the journey from their usual haunts, they became anxious to return, and
it was with some difficulty we persuaded them to accompany us for a few
days longer, in hopes of reward. The weather had been cool and
pleasant; the thermometer averaging 78 of Fahrenheit at noon, in
consequences of which the animals kept in good condition, the men
healthy and zealous. The sheep Mr. O'Brien had presented to us, gave no
additional trouble; they followed in the rear of the party without
attempting to wander, and were secured at night in a small pen or fold.
No waste attended their slaughter, nor did they lose in condition, from
being driven from ten to fifteen miles daily, so much as I had been led
to suppose they would have done.
CHAPTER III.
Character of the Morumbidgee where it issues from the hilly
country--Appearance of approach to swamps--Hamilton Plains--Intercourse
with the natives--Their appearance, customs, &c.--Change in the
character of the river--Mirage--Dreariness of the country--Ride towards
the Lachlan river--Two boats built and launched on the Morumbidgee; and
the drays, with part of the men sent back to Goulburn Plains.
NATIVES--WILD GAME,&c.; CHARACTER OF THE RIVER AND THE ADJOINING
COUNTRY.
From our camp, the Morumbidgee held a direct westerly course for about
three miles. The hills under which we had encamped, rose so close upon
our right as to leave little space between them and the river. At the
distance of three miles, however, they suddenly terminated, and the
river changed its direction to the S.W., while a chain of ponds
extended to the westward, and separated the alluvial flats from a
somewhat more elevated plain before us. We kept these ponds upon our
left for some time, but, as they ultimately followed the bend of the
river, we left them. The blacks led us on a W. by S. course to the base
of a small range two or three miles distant, near which there was a
deep lagoon. It was evident they here expected to have found some other
natives. Being disappointed, however, they turned in towards the river
again, but we stopped short of it on the side of a serpentine sheet of
water, an apparent continuation of the chain of ponds we had left
behind us, forming a kind of ditch round the S.W. extremity of the
range, parallel to which we had continued to travel. This range, which
had been gradually decreasing in height from the lagoon, above which it
rose perpendicularly, might almost be said to terminate here. We fell
in with two or three natives before we halted, but the evident want of
population in so fine a country, and on so noble a river, surprised me
extremely. We saw several red kangaroos in the course of the day, and
succeeded in killing one. It certainly is a beautiful animal, ranging
the wilds in native freedom. The female and the kid are of a light
mouse-colour. Wild turkeys abound on this part of the Morumbidgee, but
with the exception of a few terns, which are found hovering over the
lagoons, no new birds had as yet been procured; and the only plant that
enriched our collection, was an unknown metrosideros. In crossing the
extremity of the range, the wheels of the dray sunk deep into a
yielding and coarse sandy soil, of decomposed granite, on which
forest-grass prevailed in tufts, which, being far apart, made the
ground uneven, and caused the animals to trip. We rose at one time
sufficiently high to obtain an extensive view, and had our opinions
confirmed as to the level nature of the country we were so rapidly
approaching. From the N. to the W.S.W. the eye wandered over a wooded
and unbroken interior, if I except a solitary double hill that rose in
the midst of it, bearing S. 82 degrees W. distant 12 miles, and another
singular elevation that bore S. 32 degrees W. called by the natives,
Kengal. The appearance to the E.S.E. was still that of a mountainous
country, while from the N.E., the hills gradually decrease in height,
until lost in the darkness of surrounding objects to the northward. We
did not travel this day more than 13 miles on a W. by N. course. The
Morumbidgee, where we struck it, by its increased size, kept alive our
anticipations of its ultimately leading us to some important point. The
partial rains that had fallen while we were on its upper branch, had
swollen it considerably, and it now rolled along a vast body of water
at the rate of three miles an hour, preserving a medium width of 150
feet; its banks retaining a height far above the usual level of the
stream. A traveller who had never before descended into the interior of
New Holland, would have spurned the idea of such a river terminating in
marshes; but with the experience of the former journey, strong as hope
was within my breast, I still feared it might lose itself in the vast
flat upon which we could scarcely be said to have yet entered. The
country was indeed taking up more and more every day the features of
the N.W. interior. Cypresses were observed upon the minor ridges, and
the soil near the river, although still rich, and certainly more
extensive than above, was occasionally mixed with sand, and scattered
over with the claws of crayfish and shells, indicating its greater
liability to be flooded; nor indeed could I entertain a doubt that the
river had laid a great part of the levels around us under water long
after it found that channel in which nature intended ultimately to
confine it. We killed another fine red kangaroo in the early part of
the day, in galloping after which I got a heavy fall.
The two blacks who had been with us so long, and who had not only
exerted themselves to assist us, but had contributed in no small degree
to our amusement, though they had from M'Leay's liberality, tasted all
the dainties with which we had provided ourselves, from sugar to
concentrated cayenne, intimated that they could no longer accompany the
party. They had probably got to the extremity of their beat, and dared
not venture any further. They left us with evident regret, receiving,
on their departure, several valuable presents, in the shape of
tomahawks &c. The last thing they did was to point out the way to us,
and to promise to join us on our return, although they evidently little
anticipated ever seeing us again.
In pursuing our journey, we entered a forest, consisting of box-trees,
casuarinae, and cypresses, on a light sandy soil, in which both horses
and bullocks sunk so deep that their labour was greatly increased, more
especially as the weather had become much warmer. At noon I altered my
course from N.W. by W. to W.N.W., and reached the Morumbidgee at 3 in
the afternoon. The flats bordering it were extensive and rich, and,
being partially mixed with sand, were more fitted for agricultural
purposes than the stiffer and purer soil amidst the mountains; but the
interior beyond them was far from being of corresponding quality. We
crossed several plains on which vegetation was scanty, probably owing
to the hardness of the soil, which was a stiff loamy clay, and which
must check the growth of plants, by preventing the roots from striking
freely into it. The river where we stopped for the night appeared to
have risen considerably, and the fish were rolling about on the surface
of the water with a noise like porpoises. No elevations were visible,
so that I had not an opportunity of continuing the chain of survey with
the points I had previously taken.
TRAVELLING DOWN THE RIVER.
As we proceeded down the river on the 8th, the flats became still more
extensive than they had ever been, and might almost be denominated
plains. Vegetation was scanty upon them, although the soil was of the
first quality. About nine miles from our camp, we struck on a small
isolated hill, that could scarcely have been of 200 feet elevation;
yet, depressed as it was, the view from its summit was very extensive,
and I was surprised to find that we were still in some measure
surrounded by high lands, of which I took the following bearings,
connected with the present ones.
A High Peak.....N. 66 E. distance 40 miles.
Kengal ........ N. 110 E. distant.
Double Hill ... S. 10 W. distant.
To the north, there were several fires burning, which appeared rather
the fires of natives, than conflagrations, and as the river had made a
bend to the N.N.W., I doubted not that they were upon its banks. From
this hill, which was of compact granite, we struck away to the W.N.W.,
and shortly afterwards crossed some remarkable sand-hills. Figuratively
speaking, they appeared like islands amidst the alluvial deposits, and
were as pure in their composition as the sand on the sea-shore. They
were generally covered with forest grass, in tufts, and a coarse kind
of rushes, under banksias and cypresses. We found a small fire on the
banks of the river, and close to it the couch and hut of a solitary
native, who had probably seen us approach, and had fled. There cannot
be many inhabitants hereabouts, since there are no paths to indicate
that they frequent this part of the Morumbidgee more at one season than
another.
On the 9th, the river fell off again to the westward, and we lost a
good deal of the northing we had made the day before. We journeyed
pretty nearly equidistant from the stream, and kept altogether on the
alluvial flats. As we were wandering along the banks of the river, a
black started up before us, and swam across to the opposite side, where
he immediately hid himself. We could by no means induce him to show
himself; he was probably the lonely being whom we had scared away from
the fire the day before. In the afternoon, however we surprised a
family of six natives, and persuaded them to follow us to our halting
place. My boy understood them well; but the young savage had the
cunning to hide the information they gave him, or, for aught I know, to
ask questions that best suited his own purposes, and therefore we
gained little intelligence from them.
Every day now produced some change in the face of the country, by which
it became more and more assimilated to that I had traversed during the
first expedition. Acacia pendula now made its appearance on several
plains beyond the river deposits, as well as that salsolaceous class of
plants, among which the schlerolina and rhagodia are so remarkable. The
natives left us at sunset, but returned early in the morning with an
extremely facetious and good-humoured old man, who volunteered to act
as our guide without the least hesitation. There was a cheerfulness in
his manner, that gained our confidence at once, and rendered him a
general favourite. He went in front with the dogs, and led us a little
away from the river to kill kangaroos, as he said. At about two miles
we struck on an inconsiderable elevation, which the party crossed at
the S.W. extremity. I ascended it at the opposite end, but although the
view was extensive, I could not make out the little hill of granite
from which I had taken my former bearings, and the only elevation I
could recognise as connected with them, was one about ten miles
distant, bearing S. 168 W. I could observe very distant ranges to the
E.N.E. and immediately below me in that direction, there was a large
clear plain, skirted by acacia pendula, stretching from S.S.E. to
N.N.W. The crown and ridges of the hill on which I stood, were barren,
stony, and covered with beef-wood, the rock-formation being a coarse
granite. The drays had got so far ahead of me that I did not overtake
them before they had halted on the river at a distance of ten miles.
INFORMATION FROM A NATIVE.
The Morumbidgee appeared, on examination, to have increased in breadth,
and continued to rise gradually. It is certainly a noble stream, very
different from those I had already traced to their termination. The old
black informed me that there was another large river flowing to the
southward of west, to which the Morumbidgee was as a creek, and that we
could gain it in four days. He stated that its waters were good, but
that its banks were not peopled. That such a feature existed where he
laid it down, I thought extremely probable, because it was only natural
to expect that other streams descended from the mountains in the S.E.
of the island, as well as that on which we were travelling. The
question was, whether either of them held on an uninterrupted course to
some reservoir, or whether they fell short of the coast and exhausted
themselves in marshes. Considering the concave direction of the
mountains to the S.E., I even at this time hoped that the rivers
falling into the interior would unite sooner or later, and contribute
to the formation of an important and navigable stream. Of the fate of
the Morumbidgee, the old black could give no account. It seemed
probable, therefore, that we were far from its termination.
I had hitherto been rather severe upon the animals, for although our
journey had not exceeded from twelve to fifteen miles a day, it had
been without intermission. I determined, therefore, to give both men
and animals a day of rest, as soon as I should find a convenient place.
We started on the 11th with this intention, but we managed to creep
over eight or ten miles of ground before we halted. The country was
slightly undulated, and much intersected by creeks, few of which had
water in them. The whole tract was, however, well adapted either for
agriculture, or for grazing, and, in spite of the drought that had
evidently long hung over it, was well covered with vegetation. We had
passed all high lands, and the interior to the westward presented an
unbroken level to the eye. The Morumbidgee appeared to hold a more
northerly course than I had anticipated. Still low ranges continued
upon our right, and the cypress ridges became more frequent and denser;
but the timber on the more open grounds generally consisted of box and
flooded-gum. Of minor trees, the acacia pendula was the most prevalent,
with a shrub bearing a round nut, enclosed in a scarlet capsule, and an
interesting species of stenochylus. I had observed as yet, few of the
plants of the more northern interior.
NATIVES--THEIR UGLINESS.
In this neighbourhood, the dogs killed an emu and a kangaroo, which
came in very conveniently for some natives whom we fell in with on one
of the river flats. They were, without exception, the worst featured of
any I had ever seen. It is scarcely possible to conceive that human
beings could be so hideous and loathsome. The old black, who was rather
good-looking, told me they were the last we should see for some time,
and I felt that if these were samples of the natives on the lowlands, I
cared very little how few of I them we should meet.
EXTENSIVE PLAINS.
The country on the opposite side of the river had all the features of
that to the north of it, but a plain of such extent suddenly opened
upon us to the southward, that I halted at once in order to examine it,
and by availing myself of a day of rest, to fix our position more truly
than we could otherwise have done. We accordingly pitched our tents
under some lofty gum-trees, opposite to the plain, and close upon the
edge of the sandy beach of the river. Before they were turned out, the
animals were carefully examined, and the pack-saddles overhauled, that
they might undergo any necessary repairs. The river fell considerably
during the night, but it poured along a vast body of water, possessing
a strong current. The only change I remarked in it was that it now had
a bed of sand, and was generally deeper on one side than on the other.
It kept a very uniform breadth of from 150 to 170 feet--and a depth of
from 4 to 20. Its channel, though occasionally much encumbered with
fallen timber, was large enough to contain twice the volume of water
then in it, but it had outer and more distant banks, the boundaries of
the alluvial flats, to confine it within certain limits, during the
most violent floods, and to prevent its inundating the country.
HAMILTON'S PLAINS.
With a view to examine the plain opposite to us, I directed our horses
to be taken across the river early in the morning, and after breakfast,
M'Leay and I swam across after them. We found the current strong, and
could not keep a direct line over the channel, but were carried below
the place at which we plunged in. We proceeded afterwards in a
direction W.S.W. across the plain for five or six miles, before we saw
trees on the opposite extremity, at a still greater distance. We thus
found ourselves in the centre of an area of from 26 to 30 miles. It
appeared to be perfectly level, though not really so. The soil upon it
was good, excepting in isolated spots, where it was sandy. Vegetation
was scanty upon it, but, on the whole, I should conclude that it was
fitter for agriculture than for grazing. For I think it very probable,
that those lands which lie hardening and bare in a state of nature,
would produce abundantly if broken up by the plough. I called this
Hamilton's plains, in remembrance of the surgeon of my regiment. The
Morumbidgee forms its N.E. boundary, and a creek rising on it, cuts off
a third part on the western side, and runs away from the river in a
southerly direction. This creek, even before it gets to the outskirts
of the plains, assumes a considerable size. Such a fact would argue
that heavy rains fall in this part of the interior, to cut out such a
watercourse, or that the soil is extremely loose; but I should think
the former the most probable, since the soil of this plain had a
substratum of clay. I place our encampment on the river in latitude 34
degrees 41 minutes 45 seconds S., and in East longitude 146 degrees 50
minutes, the variation of the compass being 6 degrees 10 minutes E.
INTERCOURSE WITH THE NATIVES; SCANTINESS OF THE POPULATION.
On our return to the camp we found several natives with our people, and
among them one of the tallest I had ever seen. Their women were with
them, and they appeared to have lost all apprehension of any danger
occurring from us. The animals were benefited greatly by this day of
rest. We left the plain, therefore, on the 13th with renewed spirits,
and passed over a country very similar to that by which we had
approached it, one well adapted for grazing, but intersected by
numerous creeks, at two of which we found natives, some of whom joined
our party. Our old friend left us in quest of some blacks, who, as he
informed Hopkinson, had seen the tracks of our horses on the Darling. I
was truly puzzled at such a statement, which was, however, further
corroborated by the circumstance of one of the natives having a
tire-nail affixed to a spear, which he said was picked up, by the man
who gave it to him, on one of our encampments. I could not think it
likely that this story was true, and rather imagined they must have
picked up the nail near the located districts, and I was anxious to
have the point cleared up. When we halted we had a large assemblage of
natives with us, amounting in all to twenty-seven, but I awaited in
vain the return of the old man. The night passed away without our
seeing him, nor did he again join us.
We started in the morning with our new acquaintances, and kept on a
south-westerly course during the day, over an excellent grazing, and,
in many places, an agricultural country, still intersected by creeks,
that were too deep for the water to have dried in them. The country
more remote from the river, however, began to assume more and more the
character and appearance of the northern interior. I rode into several
plains, the soil of which was either a red sandy loam, bare of
vegetation, or a rotten and blistered earth, producing nothing but
rhagodiae, salsolae, and misembrianthemum.
We fell in with another tribe of blacks during the journey, to whom we
were literally consigned by those who had been previously with us, and
who now turned back, while our new friends took the lead of the drays.
They were two fine young men, but had very ugly wives, and were for a
long time extremely diffident. I found that I could obtain but little
information through my black boy,--whether from his not understanding
me, or because he was too cunning, is uncertain. One of these young
men, however, clearly stated that he had seen the tracks of bullocks
and horses, a long time ago, to the N.N.W. in the direction of some
detached hills, that were visible from 20 to 25 miles distant. He
remembered them, he said, as a boy, and added that the white men were
without water. It was, therefore, clear that he alluded to Mr. Oxley's
excursion, northerly from the Lachlan, and I had no doubt on my mind,
that he had been on one of that officer's encampments, and that the
hills to the north of us were those to the opposite base of which he
had penetrated. I was determined, therefore, if practicable, to reach
these hills, deeming it a matter of great importance to connect the
surveys, but I deferred my journey for a day or two, in hopes, from the
continued northerly course of the river, that we should have approached
them nearer.
In the evening we fell in with some more blacks, among whom were two
brothers, of those who were acting as our guides. One had a very pretty
girl as a wife, and all the four brothers were very good-looking young
men. There cannot, I should think, be a numerous population on the
banks of the Morumbidgee, from the fact of our having seen not more
than fifty in an extent of more than 180 miles. They are apparently
scattered along it in families. I was rather surprised that my boy
understood their language well, since it certainly differed from that
of the Macquarie tribes, but nevertheless as these people do not wander
far, our information as to what was before us was very gradually
arrived at, and only as we fell in with the successive families.
Moreover, as my boy was very young, it may be that he was more eager in
communicating to those who had no idea of them, the wonders he had
seen, than in making inquiries on points that were indifferent to him.
CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY.
We passed a very large plain in the course of the day, which was
bounded by forests of box, cypress, and the acacia pendula, of red
sandy soil and parched appearance. The Morumbidgee evidently overflows
a part of the lands we crossed, to a greater extent than heretofore,
though the alluvial deposits beyond its influence were still both rich
and extensive. The crested pigeon made its appearance on the acacias,
which I took to be a sure sign of our approach to a country more than
ordinarily subject to overflow; since on the Macquarie and the Darling,
those birds were found only to inhabit the regions of marshes, or
spaces covered by the acacia pendula, or the polygonum. We had not,
however, yet seen any of the latter plant, although we were shortly
destined to be almost lost amidst fields of it.
CHANGE IN THE COUNTRY.
We were now approaching that parallel of longitude in which the other
known rivers of New Holland had been found to exhaust themselves; the
least change therefore, for the worse was sufficient to raise my
apprehensions; yet, although the Morumbidgee had received no tributary
from the Dumot downwards, and was leading us into an apparently endless
level, I saw no indication of its decreasing in size, or in the
rapidity of its current. Certainly, however, I had, from the character
of the country around us, an anticipation that a change was about to
take place in it, and this anticipation was verified in the course of
the following day. The alluvial flats gradually decreased in breadth,
and we journeyed mostly over extensive and barren plains, which in many
places approached so near the river as to form a part of its bank. They
were covered with the salsolaceous class of plants, so common in the
interior, in a red sandy soil, and were as even as a bowling green. The
alluvial spaces near the river became covered with reeds, and, though
subject to overflow at every partial rise of it, were so extremely
small as scarcely to afford food for our cattle. Flooded-gum trees of
lofty size grew on these reedy spaces, and marked the line of the
river, but the timber of the interior appeared stunted and useless.
DESCRIPTION OF THE NATIVES; MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES.
We found this part of the Morumbidgee much more populous than its upper
branches. When we halted, we had no fewer than forty-one natives with
us, of whom the young men were the least numerous. They allowed us to
choose a place for ourselves before they formed their own camp, and
studiously avoided encroaching on our ground so as to appear
troublesome. Their manners were those of a quiet and inoffensive
people, and their appearance in some measure prepossessing. The old men
had lofty foreheads, and stood exceedingly erect. The young men were
cleaner is their persons and were better featured than any we had seen,
some of them having smooth hair and an almost Asiatic cast of
countenance. On the other hand, the women and children were disgusting
objects. The latter were much subject to diseases, and were dreadfully
emaciated. It is evident that numbers of them die in their infancy for
want of care and nourishment. We remarked none at the age of incipient
puberty, but the most of them under six. In stating that the men were
more prepossessing than any we had seen, I would not be understood to
mean that they differed in any material point either from the natives
of the coast, or of the most distant interior to which I had been, for
they were decidedly the same race, and had the same leading features
and customs, as far as the latter could be observed. The sunken eye and
overhanging eyebrow, the high cheek-bone and thick lip, distended
nostrils, the nose either short or acquiline, together with a stout
bust and slender extremities, and both curled and smooth hair, marked
the natives of the Morumbidgee as well as those of the Darling. They
were evidently sprung from one common stock, the savage and scattered
inhabitants of a rude and inhospitable land. In customs they differed
in no material point from the coast natives, and still less from the
tribes on the Darling and the Castlereagh. They extract the front
tooth, lacerate their bodies, to raise the flesh, cicatrices being
their chief ornament; procure food by the same means, paint in the same
manner, and use the same weapons, as far as the productions of the
country will allow them. But as the grass-tree is not found westward of
the mountains, they make a light spear of a reed, similar to that of
which the natives of the southern islands form their arrows. These they
use for distant combat, and not only carry in numbers, but throw with
the boomerang to a great distance and with unerring precision, making
them to all intents and purposes as efficient as the bow and arrow.
They have a ponderous spear for close fight, and others of different
sizes for the chase. With regard to their laws, I believe they are
universally the same all over the known parts of New South Wales. The
old men have alone the privilege of eating the emu; and so submissive
are the young men to this regulation, that if, from absolute hunger or
under other pressing circumstances, one of them breaks through it,
either during a hunting excursion, or whilst absent from his tribe, he
returns under a feeling of conscious guilt, and by his manner betrays
his guilt, sitting apart from the men, and confessing his misdemeanour
to the chief at the first interrogation, upon which he is obliged to
undergo a slight punishment. This evidently is a law of policy and
necessity, for if the emus were allowed to be indiscriminately
slaughtered, they would soon become extinct. Civilised nations may
learn a wholesome lesson even from savages, as in this instance of
their forebearance. For somewhat similar reasons, perhaps, married
people alone are here permitted to eat ducks. They hold their
corrobories, (midnight ceremonies), and sing the same melancholy ditty
that breaks the stillness of night on the shores of Jervis' Bay, or on
the banks of the Macquarie; and during the ceremony imitate the several
birds and beasts with which they are acquainted. If these inland tribes
differ in anything from those on the coast, it is in the mode of
burying their dead, and, partially, in their language. Like all
savages, they consider their women as secondary objects, oblige them to
procure their own food, or throw to them over their shoulders the bones
they have already picked, with a nonchalance that is extremely amusing;
and, on the march, make them beasts of burden to carry their very
weapons. The population of the Morumbidgee, as far as we had descended
it at this time, did not exceed from ninety to a hundred souls. I am
persuaded that disease and accidents consign many of them to a
premature grave.
MIRAGE.
From this camp, one family only accompanied us. We journeyed due west
over plains of great extent. The soil upon them was soft and yielding,
in some places being a kind of light earth covered with rhagodiae, in
others a red tenacious clay, overrun by the misembrianthemum and
salsolae. Nothing could exceed the apparent barrenness of these plains,
or the cheerlessness of the landscape. We had left all high lands
behind us, and were now on an extensive plain, bounded in the distance
by low trees or by dark lines of cypresses. The lofty gum-trees on the
river followed its windings, and, as we opened the points, they
appeared, from the peculiar effect of a mirage, as bold promontories
jutting into the ocean, having literally the blue tint of distance.
This mirage floated in a light tremulous vapour on the ground, and not
only deceived us with regard to the extent of the plains, and the
appearance of objects, but hid the trees, in fact, from our view
altogether; so that, in moving, as we imagined, upon the very point or
angle of the river, we found as we neared it, that the trees stretched
much further into the plain, and were obliged to alter our course to
round them. The heated state of the atmosphere, and the sandy nature of
the country could alone have caused a mirage so striking in its
effects, as this,--exceeding considerably similar appearances noticed
during the first expedition. The travelling was so heavy, that I was
obliged to make a short day's journey, and when we struck the river for
the purpose of halting, it had fallen off very much in appearance, and
was evidently much contracted, with low banks and a sandy bed. It was
difficult to account for this sudden change, but when I gazed on the
extent of level country before me, I began to dread that this hitherto
beautiful stream would ultimately disappoint us.
EXCURSION TOWARDS A RIDGE OF HILLS.
I had deferred my intended excursion to the hills under which I
imagined Mr. Oxley had encamped, until we were out of sight of them,
and I now feared that it was almost too late to undertake it, but I was
still anxious to determine a point in which I felt considerable
interest. I was the more desirous of surveying the country to the
northward, because of the apparent eagerness with which the natives had
caught at the word Colare, which I recollected having heard a black on
the Macquarie make use of in speaking of the Lachlan. They pointed to
the N.N.W., and making a sweep with the arm raised towards the sky,
seemed to intimate that a large sheet of water existed in that
direction; and added that it communicated with the Morumbidgee more to
the westward. This information confirmed still more my impressions with
regard to Mr. Oxley's line of route; and, as I found a ready volunteer
in M'Leay, I gave the party in charge to Harris until I should rejoin
him, and turned back towards the hills, with the intention of reaching
them if possible. No doubt we should have done so had it not been for
the nature of the ground over which we travelled, and the impossibility
of our exceeding a walk. We rode to a distance of 18 miles, but still
found ourselves far short of the hills, and therefore gave up the
point. I considered, however, that we were about the same distance to
the south, as Mr. Oxley had been to the north of them, and in taking
bearings of the highest points, I afterwards found that they exactly
tallied with his bearings, supposing him to have taken them from his
camp.
QUIET DEMEANOUR OF THE NATIVES.
On our way to the river, we Passed through some dense bushes of
casuarinae and cypresses, to the outskirts of the plains through which
the Morumbidgee winds. We reached the camp two or three hours after
sunset, and found it crowded with natives to the number of 60. They
were extremely quiet and inoffensive in their demeanour, and asked us
to point out where they might sleep, before they ventured to kindle
their fires. One old man, we remarked, had a club foot, and another was
blind, but, as far as we could judge from the glare of the fires, the
generality of them were fine young men, and supported themselves in a
very erect posture when standing or walking. There were many children
with the women, among whom colds seemed to prevail. It blew heavily
from the N.W. during the night, and a little rain fell in the early
part of the morning. Our route during the day, was over as melancholy a
tract as ever was travelled. The plains to the N. and N.W. bounded the
horizon; not a tree of any kind was visible upon them. It was equally
open to the S., and it appeared as if the river was decoying us into a
desert, there to leave us in difficulty and in distress. The very
mirage had the effect of boundlessness in it, by blending objects in
one general hue; or, playing on the ground, it cheated us with an
appearance of water, and on arriving at the spot, we found a
continuation of the same scorching plain, over which we were moving,
instead of the stream we had hoped for.
The cattle about this time began to suffer, and, anxious as I was to
push on, I was obliged to shorten my journeys, according to
circumstances. Amidst the desolation around us, the river kept alive
our hopes. If it traversed deserts, it might reach fertile lands, and
it was to the issue of the journey that we had to look for success. It
here, however, evidently overflowed its banks more extensively than
heretofore, and broad belts of reeds were visible on either side of it,
on which the animals exclusively subsisted. Most of the natives had
followed us, and their patience and abstinence surprised me
exceedingly. Some of them had been more than twenty-four hours without
food, and yet seemed as little disposed to seek it as ever. I really
thought they expected me to supply their wants, but as I could not act
so liberal a scale, George M'Leay undeceived them; after which they
betook themselves to the river, and got a supply of muscles. I rather
think their going so frequently into the water engenders a catarrh, or
renders them more liable to it than they otherwise would be. In the
afternoon the wind shifted to the S.W. It blew a hurricane; and the
temperature of the air was extremely low. The natives felt the cold
beyond belief and kindled large fires. In the morning, when we moved
away, the most of them started with fire-sticks to keep themselves
warm; but they dropped off one by one, and at noon we found ourselves
totally deserted.
DREARINESS OF THE LANDSCAPE.
It is impossible for me to describe the kind of country we were now
traversing, or the dreariness of the view it presented. The plains were
still open to the horizon, but here and there a stunted gum-tree, or a
gloomy cypress, seemed placed by nature as mourners over the
surrounding desolation. Neither beast nor bird inhabited these lonely
and inhospitable regions, over which the silence of the grave seemed to
reign. We had not, for days past, seen a blade of grass, so that the
animals could not have been in very good condition. We pushed on,
however, sixteen miles, in consequence of the coolness of the weather.
We observed little change in the river in that distance, excepting that
it had taken up a muddy bottom, and lost all the sand that used to fill
it. The soil and productions on the plains continued unchanged in every
respect. From this time to the 22nd, the country presented the same
aspect. Occasional groups of cypress showed themselves on narrow sandy
ridges, or partial brushes extended from the river, consisting chiefly
of the acacia pendula, the stenochylus, and the nut I have already
noticed. The soil on which they grew was, if possible, worse than that
of the barren plain which we were traversing; and their colour and
drooping state rendered the desolate landscape still more dreary.
On the 21st, we found the same singular substance (gypsum) embedded in
the bank of the river that had been collected, during the former
expedition, on the banks of the Darling; and hope, which is always
uppermost in the human breast, induced me to think that we were fast
approaching that stream. My observations placed me in 34 degrees 17
minutes 15 seconds S. and 145 degrees of E. longitude.
BLACK BOY DESERTS.
On the 22nd, my black boy deserted me. I was not surprised at his doing
so, neither did I regret his loss, for he had been of little use under
any circumstances. He was far too cunning for our purpose. I know not
that the term ingratitude can be applied to one in his situation, and
in whose bosom nature had implanted a love of freedom. We learnt from
four blacks, with whom he had spoken, and who came to us in the
afternoon, that he had gone up the river,--as I conjectured, to the
last large tribe we had left, with whom he appeared to become very
intimate.
A creek coming from the N.N.W. here fell into the Morumbidgee; a proof
that the general decline of country was really to the south, although a
person looking over it would have supposed the contrary.
COUNTRY SUBJECT TO INUNDATION.
We started on the 23rd, with the same boundlessness of plain on either
side of us; but in the course of the morning a change took place, both
in soil and productions; and from the red sandy loam, and salsolaceous
plants, amidst which we had been toiling, we got upon a light tenacious
and blistered soil, evidently subject to frequent overflow, and fields
of polygonum junceum, amidst which, both the crested pigeon and the
black quail were numerous. The drays and animals sank so deep in this,
that we were obliged to make for the river, and keep upon its immediate
banks. Still, with all the appearance of far-spread inundation, it
continued undiminished in size, and apparently in the strength of its
current. Its channel was deeper than near the mountains, but its
breadth was about the same.
On the 24th, we were again entangled amidst fields of polygonum,
through which we laboured until after eleven, when we gained a firmer
soil. Some cypresses appeared upon our right, in a dark line, and I
indulged hopes that a change was about to take place in the nature of
the country. We soon, however, got on a light rotten earth, and were
again obliged to make for the river, with the teams completely
exhausted. We had not travelled many miles from our last camp, yet it
struck me, that the river had fallen off in appearance. I examined it
with feelings of intense anxiety, certain, as I was, that the flooded
spaces, over which we had been travelling would, sooner or later, be
succeeded by a country overgrown with reeds. The river evidently
overflowed its banks, on both sides, for many miles, nor had I a doubt
that, at some periods, the space northward, between it and the Lachlan,
presented the appearance of one vast sea. The flats of polygonum
stretched away to the N.W. to an amazing distance, as well as in a
southerly direction, and the very nature of the soil bore testimony to
its flooded origin. But the most unaccountable circumstance to me was,
that it should be entirely destitute of vegetation, with the exception
of the gloomy and leafless bramble I have noticed.
M'Leay, who was always indefatigable in his pursuit after subjects of
natural history, shot a cockatoo, of a new species, hereabouts, having
a singularly shaped upper mandible. It was white, with scarlet down
under the neck feathers, smaller than the common cockatoo, and
remarkable for other peculiarities.
INTERCOURSE WITH NATIVES; THE COLARE OR LACHLAN.
Two or three natives made their appearance at some distance from the
party, but would not approach it until after we had halted. They then
came to the tents, seven in number, and it was evident from their
manner, that their chief or only object was to pilfer anything they
could. We did not, therefore, treat them with much ceremony. They were
an ill-featured race, and it was only by strict watching during the
night that they were prevented from committing theft. Probably from
seeing that we were aware of their intentions, they left us early, and
pointing somewhat to the eastward of north, said they were going to the
Colare, and on being asked how far it was, they signified that they
should sleep there. I had on a former occasion recollected the term
having been made use of by a black, on the Macquarie, when speaking to
me of the Lachlan, and had questioned one of the young men who was with
us at the time, and who seemed more intelligent than his companions,
respecting it. Immediately catching at the word, he had pointed to the
N.N.W., and, making a sweep with his arms raised towards the sky had
intimated, evidently, that a large sheet of water existed in that
direction, in the same manner that another black had done on a former
occasion: on being further questioned, he stated that this communicated
with the Morumbidgee more to the westward, and on my expressing a
desire to go to it, he said we could not do so under four days. We had,
it appeared, by the account of the seven natives, approached within one
day's journey of it, and, as I thought it would be advisable to gain a
little knowledge of the country to the north, I suggested to M'Leay to
ride in that direction, while the party should be at rest, with some
good feed for the cattle that fortune had pointed out to us.
EXCURSION TOWARDS THE LACHLAN.
Our horses literally sank up to their knees on parts of the great plain
over which we had in the first instance to pass, and we rode from three
to four miles before we caught sight of a distant wood at its northern
extremity; the view from the river having been for the last two or
three days, as boundless as the ocean. As we approached the wood, two
columns of smoke rose from it, considerably apart, evidently the fires
of natives near water. We made for the central space between them,
having a dead acacia scrub upon our right. On entering the wood, we
found that it contained for the most part, flooded-gum, under which
bulrushes and reeds were mixed together. The whole space seemed liable
to overflow, and we crossed numerous little drains, that intersected
each other in every direction. From the resemblance of the ground to
that at the bottom of the marshes of the Macquarie, I prognosticated to
my companion that we should shortly come upon a creek, and we had not
ridden a quarter of a mile further, when we found ourselves on the
banks of one of considerable size. Crossing it, we proceeded northerly,
until we got on the outskirts of a plain of red sandy soil, covered
with rhagodia alone, and without a tree upon the visible horizon. The
country appeared to be rising before us, but was extremely depressed to
the eastward. After continuing along this plain for some time, I became
convinced from appearances, that we were receding from water, and that
the fires of the natives, which were no longer visible, must have been
on the creek we had crossed, that I judged to be leading W.S.W. from
the opposite quarter. We had undoubtedly struck below to the westward
of the Colare or Lachlan, and the creek was the channel of
communication between it and the Morumbidgee, at least such was the
natural conclusion at which I arrived. Having no further object in
continuing a northerly course, we turned to the S.E., and, after again
passing the creek, struck away for the camp on a S. by W. course, and
passed through a dense brush of cypress and casuarina in our way to it.
CONNECTION OF LACHLAN WITH MORUMBIDGEE.
Considering our situation as connected with the marshes of the Lachlan,
I cannot but infer that the creek we struck upon during this excursion
serves as a drain to the latter, to conduct its superfluous waters into
the Morumbidgee in times of flood, as those of the Macquarie are
conducted by the creek at the termination of its marshes into
Morrisset's Chain of Ponds. It will be understood that I only surmise
this. I argue from analogy, not from proof. Whether I am correct or
not, my knowledge of the facts I have stated, tended very much to
satisfy my mind as to the LAY of the interior; and to revive my hopes
that the Morumbidgee would not fail us, although there was no
appearance of the country improving.
COUNTRY COVERED WITH REEDS.
We started on the 26th, on a course somewhat to the N.W., and traversed
plains of the same wearisome description as those I have already
described. The wheels of the drays sank up to their axle-trees, and the
horses above their fetlocks at every step. The fields of polygonum
spread on every side of us like a dark sea, and the only green object
within range of our vision was the river line of trees. In several
instances, the force of both teams was put to one dray, to extricate it
from the bed into which it had sunk, and the labour was considerably
increased from the nature of the weather. The wind was blowing as if
through a furnace, from the N.N.E., and the dust was flying in clouds,
so as to render it almost suffocating to remain exposed to it. This was
the only occasion upon which we felt the hot winds in the interior. We
were, about noon, endeavouring to gain a point of a wood at which I
expected to come upon the river again, but it was impossible for the
teams to reach it without assistance. I therefore sent M'Leay forward,
with orders to unload the pack animals as soon as he should make the
river, and send them back to help the teams. He had scarcely been
separated from me 20 minutes, when one of the men came galloping back
to inform me that no river was to be found--that the country beyond the
wood was covered with reeds as far as the eye could reach, and that Mr.
M'Leay had sent him back for instructions. This intelligence stunned me
for a moment or two, and I am sure its effect upon the men was very
great. They had unexpectedly arrived at a part of the interior similar
to one they had held in dread, and conjured up a thousand difficulties
and privations. I desired the man to recall Mr. M'Leay; and, after
gaining the wood, moved outside of it at right angles to my former
course, and reached the river, after a day of severe toil and exposure,
at half-past five. The country, indeed, bore every resemblance to that
around the marshes of the Macquarie, but I was too weary to make any
further effort: indeed it was too late for me undertake anything until
the morning.
ANXIOUS COGITATIONS; SURVEY OF RIVER AND ENVIRONS.
The circumstances in which we were so unexpectedly placed, occupied my
mind so fully that I could not sleep; and I awaited the return of light
with the utmost anxiety. If we were indeed on the outskirts of marshes
similar to those I had on a former occasion found so much difficulty in
examining, I foresaw that in endeavouring to move round then I should
recede from water, and place the expedition in jeopardy, probably,
without gaining any determinate point, as it would be necessary for me
to advance slowly and with caution. Our provisions, however, being
calculated to last only to a certain period, I was equally reluctant to
delay our operations. My course was, therefore, to be regulated by the
appearance of the country and of the river, which I purposed examining
with the earliest dawn. If the latter should be found to run into a
region of reeds, a boat would be necessary to enable me to ascertain
its direction; but, if ultimately it should be discovered to exhaust
itself, we should have to strike into the interior on a N.W. course, in
search of the Darling. I could not think of putting the whale-boat
together in our then state of uncertainty, and it struck me that a
smaller one could sooner he prepared for the purposes for which I
should require it. These considerations, together with the view I had
taken of the measures I might at last be forced into, determined me, on
rising, to order Clayton to fell a suitable tree, and to prepare a
saw-pit. The labour was of no consideration, and even if eventually the
boat should not be wanted, no injury would arise, and it was better to
take time by the forelock. Having marked a tree preparatory to leaving
the camp, M'Leay and I started at an early hour on an excursion of
deeper interest than any we had as yet undertaken; to examine the
reeds, not only for the purpose of ascertaining their extent, if
possible, but also to guide us in our future measures. We rode for some
miles along the river side, but observed in it no signs, either of
increase or of exhaustion. Its waters, though turbid, were deep, and
its current still rapid. Its banks, too, were lofty, and showed no
evidence of decreasing in height, so as to occasion an overflow of
them, as had been the case with the Macquarie. We got among vast bodies
of reeds, but the plains of the interior were visible beyond them. We
were evidently in a hollow, and the decline of country was plainly to
the southward of west. Every thing tended to strengthen my conviction
that we were still far from the termination of the river. The character
it had borne throughout, and its appearance now so far to the westward,
gave me the most lively hopes that it would make good its way through
the vast level into which it fell, and that its termination would
accord with its promise. Besides, I daily anticipated its junction with
some stream of equal, if not of greater magnitude from the S.E. I was
aware that my resolves must be instant, decisive, and immediately acted
upon, as on firmness and promptitude at this crisis the success of the
expedition depended. About noon I checked my horse, and rather to the
surprise of my companion, intimated to him my intention of returning to
the camp, He naturally asked what I purposed doing. I told him it
appeared to me more than probable that the Morumbidgee would hold good
its course to some fixed point, now that it had reached a meridian
beyond the known rivers of the interior. It was certain, from the
denseness of the reeds, and the breadth of the belts, that the teams
could not be brought any farther, and that, taking every thing into
consideration, I had resolved on a bold and desperate measure, that of
building the whale-boat, and sending home the drays. Our appearance in
camp so suddenly, surprised the men not more than the orders I gave.
They all thought I had struck on some remarkable change of country, and
were anxious to know my ultimate views. It was not my intention
however, immediately to satisfy their curiosity. I had to study their
characters as long as I could, in order to select those best qualified
to accompany me on the desperate adventure for which I was preparing.
BOAT BUILDING.
The attention both of M'Leay, and myself, was turned to the hasty
building of the whale-boat. A shed was erected, and every necessary
preparation made, and although Clayton had the keel of the small boat
already laid down, and some planks prepared, she was abandoned for the
present, and, after four days more of arduous labour, the whale-boat
was painted and in the water. From her dimensions, it appeared to me
impossible that she would hold all our provisions and stores, for her
after-part had been fitted up as an armoury, which took away
considerably from her capacity of stowage. The small boat would still,
therefore, be necessary, and she was accordingly re-laid, for half the
dimensions of the large boat, and in three days was alongside her
consort in the river. Thus, in seven days we had put together a boat,
twenty-seven feet in length, had felled a tree from the forest, with
which we had built a second of half the size, had painted both, and had
them at a temporary wharf ready for loading. Such would not have been
the case had not our hearts been in the work, as the weather was close
and sultry, and we found it a task of extreme labour. In the intervals
between the hours of work, I prepared my despatches for the Governor,
and when they were closed, it only remained for me to select six hands,
the number I intended should accompany me down the river, and to load
the boats, ere we should once more proceed in the further obedience of
our instructions.
COMPLETION OF ARRANGEMENTS FOR EMBARKATION.
It was impossible that I could do without Clayton, whose perseverance
and industry had mainly contributed to the building of the boats; of
the other prisoners, I chose Mulholland and Macnamee; leaving the rest
in charge of Robert Harris, whose steady conduct had merited my
approbation. My servant, Harris, Hopkinson, and Fraser, of course, made
up the crews. The boats were loaded in the evening of Jan. 6th, as it
had been necessary to give the paint a little time to dry. On the 4th,
I had sent Clayton and Mulholland to the nearest cypress range for a
mast and spar, and on the evening of that day some blacks had visited
us; but they sat on the bank of the river, preserving a most determined
silence; and, at length, left us abruptly, and apparently in great ill
humour. In the disposition of the loads, I placed all the flour, the
tea, and tobacco, in the whaleboat. The meat-casks, still, and
carpenters' tools, were put into the small boat.
As soon as the different arrangements were completed, I collected the
men, and told off those who were to accompany me. I then gave the rest
over in charge to Harris, and, in adverting to their regular conduct
hitherto, trusted they would be equally careful while under his orders.
I then directed the last remaining sheep to be equally divided among
us; and it was determined that, for fear of accidents, Harris should
remain stationary for a week, at the expiration of which time, he would
be at liberty to proceed to Goulburn Plains, there to receive his
instructions from Sydney; while the boats were to proceed at an early
hour of the morning down the river,--whether ever to return again being
a point of the greatest uncertainty.
CHAPTER IV.
Embarkation of the party in the boats, and voyage down the
Morumbidgee--The skiff swamped by striking on a sunken tree--Recovery
of boat and its loading--Region of reeds--Dangers of the
navigation--Contraction of the channel--Reach the junction of a large
river--Intercourse with the natives on its banks--Character of the
country below the junction of the rivers--Descent of a dangerous
rapid--Warlike demonstrations of a tribe of natives--Unexpected
deliverance from a conflict with them--Junction of another river--Give
the name of the "Murray" to the principal stream.
The camp was a scene of bustle and confusion long before day-light. The
men whom I had selected to accompany me were in high spirits, and so
eager to commence their labours that they had been unable to sleep, but
busied themselves from the earliest dawn in packing up their various
articles of clothing, &c. We were prevented from taking our departure
so early as I had intended, by rain that fell about six. At a little
after seven, however, the weather cleared up, the morning mists blew
over our heads, and the sun struck upon us with his usual fervour. As
soon as the minor things were stowed away, we bade adieu to Harris and
his party; and shortly after, embarked on the bosom of that stream
along the banks of which we had journeyed for so many miles.
Notwithstanding that we only used two oars, our progress down the river
was rapid. Hopkinson had arranged the loads so well, that all the party
could sit at their ease, and Fraser was posted in the bow of the boat,
with gun in hand, to fire at any new bird or beast that we might
surprise in our silent progress. The little boat, which I shall
henceforward call the skiff, was fastened by a painter to our stern.
SUPPOSED JUNCTION OF LACHLAN.
As the reader will have collected from what has already fallen under
his notice, the country near the depot was extensively covered with
reeds, beyond which vast plains of polygonum stretched away. From the
bed of the river we could not observe the change that took place in it
as we passed along, so that we found it necessary to land, from time to
time, for the purpose of noting down its general appearance. At about
fifteen miles from the depot, we came upon a large creek-junction from
the N.E., which I did not doubt to be the one M'Leay and I had crossed
on the 25th of December. It was much larger than the creek of the
Macquarie, and was capable of holding a very great body of water,
although evidently too small to contain all that occasionally rushed
from its source. I laid it down as the supposed junction of the
Lachlan, since I could not, against the corroborating facts in my
possession, doubt its originating in the marshes of that river. Should
this, eventually, prove to be the case, the similar termination of the
two streams traced by Mr. Oxley will be a singular feature in the
geography of the interior.
EMUS--NATIVE TOMB.
We were just about to land, to prepare our dinner, when two emus swam
across the river ahead of us. This was an additional inducement for us
to land, but we were unfortunately too slow, and the birds escaped us.
We had rushed in to the right bank, and found on ascending it, that the
reeds with which it had hitherto been lined, had partially ceased. A
large plain, similar to those over which we had wandered prior to our
gaining the flooded region, stretched away to a considerable distance
behind us, and was backed by cypresses and brush. The soil of the plain
was a red sandy loam, covered sparingly with salsolae and shrubs; thus
indicating that the country still preserved its barren character, and
that it is the same from north to south. Among the shrubs we found a
tomb that appeared to have been recently constructed. No mound had been
raised over the body, but an oval hollow shed occupied the centre of
the burial place, that was lined with reeds and bound together with
strong net-work. Round this, the usual walks were cut, and the recent
traces of women's feet were visible upon them, but we saw no natives,
although, from the number and size of the paths that led from the
river, in various directions across the plain, I was led to conclude,
that, at certain seasons, it is hereabouts numerously frequented.
Fraser gathered some rushes similar to those used by the natives of the
Darling in the fabrication of their nets, and as they had not before
been observed, we judged them, of course, to be a sign of our near
approach to that river.
ASPECT OF COUNTRY AND RIVER.
As soon as we had taken a hasty dinner, we again embarked, and pursued
our journey. I had hoped, from the appearance of the country to the
north of us, although that to the south gave little indication of any
change, that we should soon clear the reeds; but at somewhat less than
a mile they closed in upon the river, and our frequent examination of
the neighbourhood on either side of it only tended to confirm the fact,
that we were passing through a country subject to great and extensive
inundation. We pulled up at half-past five, and could scarcely find
space enough to pitch our tents.
The Morumbidgee kept a decidedly westerly course during the day. Its
channel was not so tortuous as we expected to have found it, nor did it
offer any obstruction to the passage of the boats. Its banks kept a
general height of eight feet, five of which were of alluvial soil, and
both its depth and its current were considerable. We calculated having
proceeded from 28 to 30 miles, though, perhaps, not more than half that
distance in a direct line. No rain fell during the day, but we
experienced some heavy squalls from the E.S.E.
THE SKIFF STRIKES AND SINKS--LABOUR IN RECOVERING ARTICLES LOST.
The second day of our journey from the depot was marked by an accident
that had well nigh obliged us to abandon the further pursuit of the
river, by depriving us of part of our means of carrying it into effect.
We had proceeded, as usual, at an early hour in the morning, and not
long after we started, fell in with the blacks who had visited us last,
and who were now in much better humour than upon that occasion. As they
had their women with them, we pushed in to the bank, and distributed
some presents, after which we dropped quietly down the river. Its
general depth had been such as to offer few obstructions to our
progress, but about an hour after we left the natives, the skiff struck
upon a sunken log, and immediately filling, went down in about twelve
feet of water, The length of the painter prevented any strain upon the
whale-boat, but the consequence of so serious an accident at once
flashed upon our minds. That we should suffer considerably, we could
not doubt, but our object was to get the skiff up with the least
possible delay, to prevent the fresh water from mixing with the brine,
in the casks of meat. Some short time, however, necessarily elapsed
before we could effect this, and when at last the skiff was hauled
ashore, we found that we were too late to prevent the mischief that we
had anticipated. All the things had been fastened in the boat, but
either from the shock, or the force of the current, one of the pork
casks, the head of the still, and the greater part of the carpenter's
tools, had been thrown out of her. As the success of the expedition
might probably depend upon the complete state of the still, I
determined to use every effort for its recovery: but I was truly at a
loss how to find it; for the waters of the river were extremely turbid.
In this dilemma, the blacks would have been of the most essential
service, but they were far behind us, so that we had to depend on our
own exertions alone. I directed the whale-boat to be moored over the
place where the accident had happened, and then used the oars on either
side of her, to feel along the bottom of the river, in hopes that by
these means we should strike upon the articles we had lost. However
unlikely such a measure was to prove successful, we recovered in the
course of the afternoon, every thing but the still-head, and a cask of
paint. Whenever the oar struck against the substance that appeared, by
its sound or feel to belong to us, it was immediately pushed into the
sand, and the upper end of the oar being held by two men, another
descended by it to the bottom of the river, remaining under water as
long as he could, to ascertain what was immediately within arm's length
of him. This work was, as may be imagined, most laborious, and the men
at length became much exhausted. They would not, however, give up the
search for the still head, more especially after M'Leay, in diving, had
descended upon it. Had he, by ascertaining his position, left it to us
to heave it up, our labours would soon have ended; but, in his anxiety
for its recovery, he tried to bring it up, when finding it too heavy,
he let it go, and the current again swept it away.
At sunset, we were obliged to relinquish our task, the men complaining
of violent head-aches, which the nature of the day increased. Thinking
our own efforts would be unavailing, I directed two of the men to go up
the river for the blacks, at day-light in the morning, and set the
reeds on fire to attract their notice. The day had been cloudy and
sultry in the afternoon, the clouds collecting in the N.E.: we heard
the distant thunder, and expected to have been deluged with rain. None,
however, fell, although we were anxious for moisture to change the
oppressive state of the atmosphere. The fire I had kindled raged behind
us, and threw dense columns of smoke into the sky, that cast over the
landscape a shade of the most dismal gloom. We were not in a humour to
admire the picturesque, but soon betook ourselves to rest, and after
such a day of labour as that we had undergone, I dispensed with the
night guard.
PILFERING OF NATIVES.
In the morning we resumed our search for the still head, which
Hopkinson at length fortunately struck with his oar. It had been swept
considerably below the place at which M'Leay had dived, or we should
most probably have found it sooner. With its recovery, all our fatigues
were at once forgotten, and I ordered the breakfast to be got ready
preparatory to our reloading the skiff. Fraser and Mulholland, who had
left the camp at daylight, had not yet returned. I was sitting in the
tent, when Macnamee came to inform me that one of the frying-pans was
missing, which had been in use the evening previous, for that he
himself had placed it on the stump of a tree, and he therefore supposed
a native dog had run away with it. Soon after this, another loss was
reported to me, and it was at last discovered that an extensive robbery
had been committed upon us during the night, and that, in addition to
the frying-pan, three cutlasses, and five tomahawks, with the pea of
the steelyards, had been carried away. I was extremely surprised at
this instance of daring in the natives, and determined, if possible, to
punish it. About ten, Fraser and Mulholland returned with two blacks.
Fraser told me he saw several natives on our side of the river, as he
was returning, to whom those who were with him spoke, and I felt
convinced from their manner and hesitation, that they were aware of the
trick that had been played upon us. However, as Fraser had promised
them a tomahawk to induce them to accompany him, I fulfilled the
promise.
CONTINUE OUR VOYAGE.
Leaving this unlucky spot, we made good about sixteen miles during the
afternoon. The river maintained its breadth and depth nor were the
reeds continuous upon its banks. We passed several plains that were
considerably elevated above the alluvial deposits, and the general
appearance of the country induced me strongly to hope that we should
shortly get out of the region of reeds, or the great flooded concavity
on which we had fixed our depot; but the sameness of vegetation, and
the seemingly diminutive size of the timber in the distance, argued
against any change for the better in the soil of the interior. Having
taken the precaution of shortening the painter of the skiff, we found
less difficulty in steering her clear of obstacles, and made rapid
progress down the Morumbidgee during the first cool and refreshing
hours of the morning. The channel of the river became somewhat less
contracted, but still retained sufficient depth for larger boats than
ours, and preserved a general westerly course. Although no decline of
country was visible to the eye, the current in places ran very strong.
It is impossible for me to convey to the reader's mind an idea of the
nature of the country through which we passed. On this day the
favourable appearances, noticed yesterday, ceased almost as soon as we
embarked. On the 10th, reeds lined the banks of the river on both
sides, without any break, and waved like gloomy streamers over its
turbid waters; while the trees stood leafless and sapless in the midst
of them. Wherever we landed, the same view presented itself--a waving
expanse of reeds, and a country as flat as it is possible to imagine
one. The eye could seldom penetrate beyond three quarters of a mile,
and the labour of walking through the reeds was immense; but within our
observation all was green and cheerless. The morning had been extremely
cold, with a thick haze at E.S.E. About 2 p.m. it came on to rain
heavily, so that we did not stir after that hour.
CONTRACTION OF THE CHANNEL.
I had remarked that the Morumbidgee was not, from the depot downwards,
so broad or so fine a river as it certainly is at the foot of the
mountain ranges, where it gains the level country. The observations of
the last two days had impressed upon my mind an idea that it was
rapidly falling off, and I began to dread that it would finally
terminate in one of those fatal marshes in which the Macquarie and the
Lachlan exhaust themselves. My hope of a more favourable issue was
considerably damped by the general appearance of the surrounding
country; and from the circumstance of our not having as yet passed a
single tributary. As we proceeded down the river, its channel gradually
contracted, and immense trees that had been swept down it by floods,
rendered the navigation dangerous and intricate. Its waters became so
turbid, that it was impossible to see objects in it, notwithstanding
the utmost diligence on the part of the men.
About noon, we fell in with a large tribe of natives, but had great
difficulty in bringing them to visit us. If they had HEARD of white
men, we were evidently the first they had ever SEEN. They approached us
in the most cautious manner, and were unable to subdue their fears as
long as they remained with us. Collectively, these people could not
have amounted to less than one hundred and twenty in number.
ANOTHER ACCIDENT.
As we pushed off from the bank, after having stayed with them about
half an hour, the whaleboat struck with such violence on a sunken log,
that she immediately leaked on her starboard side. Fortunately she was
going slowly at the time, or she would most probably have received some
more serious injury. One of the men was employed during the remainder
of the afternoon in bailing her out, and we stopped sooner than we
should otherwise have done, in order to ascertain the extent of damage,
and to repair it. The reeds terminated on both sides of the river some
time before we pulled up, and the country round the camp was more
elevated than usual, and bore the appearance of open forest pasture
land, the timber upon it being a dwarf species of box, and the soil a
light tenacious earth.
ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY AND OF THE RIVER.
About a mile below our encampment of the 12th, we at length came upon a
considerable creek-junction from the S.E. Below it, the river increased
both in breadth and depth; banks were lofty and perpendicular, and even
the lowest levels were but partially covered with reeds. We met with
fewer obstructions in consequence, and pursued our journey with
restored confidence. Towards evening a great change also took place in
the aspect of the country, which no longer bore general marks of
inundation. The level of the interior was broken by a small hill to the
right of the stream, but the view from its summit rather damped than
encouraged my hopes of any improvement. The country was covered with
wood and brush, and the line of the horizon was unbroken by the least
swell. We were on an apparently boundless flat, without any fixed point
on which to direct our movements, nor was there a single object for the
eye to rest upon, beyond the dark and gloomy wood that surrounded us on
every side.
Soon after passing this hill, the whale-boat struck upon a line of
sunken rocks, but fortunately escaped without injury. Mulholland, who
was standing in the bow, was thrown out of her, head foremost, and got
a good soaking, but soon recovered himself. The composition of the rock
was iron-stone, and it is the first formation that occurs westward of
the dividing range. We noticed a few cypresses in the distance, but the
general timber was dwarf-box, or flooded-gum, and a few of the acacia
longa scattered at great distances. In verifying our position by some
lunars, we found ourselves in 142 degrees 46 minutes 30 seconds of east
long., and in lat. 35 degrees 25 minutes 15 seconds S. the mean
variation of the compass being 4 degrees 10 minutes E. it appearing
that we were decreasing the variation as we proceeded westward.
On the 13th, we passed the first running stream that joins the
Morumbidgee, in a course of more than 340 miles. It came from the S.E.,
and made a visible impression on the river at the junction, although in
tracing it up, it appeared to be insignificant in itself. The
circumstance of these tributaries all occurring on the left, evidenced
the level nature of the country to the north. In the afternoon, we
passed a dry creek also from the S.E. which must at times throw a vast
supply of water into the river, since for many miles below, the latter
preserved a breadth of 200 feet, and averaged from 12 to 20 feet in
depth, with banks of from 15 to 18 feet in height. Yet, notwithstanding
its general equality of depth, several rapids occurred, down which the
boats were hurried with great velocity. The body of water in the river
continued undiminished, notwithstanding its increased breadth of
channel; for which reason I should imagine that it is fed by springs,
independently of other supplies. Some few cypresses were again
observed, and the character of the distant country resembled, in every
particular, that of the interior between the Macquarie and the Darling.
The general appearance of the Morumbidgee, from the moment of our
starting on the 13th, to a late hour in the afternoon, had been such as
to encourage my hopes of ultimate success in tracing it down; but about
three o'clock we came to one of those unaccountable and mortifying
changes which had already so frequently excited my apprehension. Its
channel again suddenly contracted, and became almost blocked up with
huge trees, that must have found their way into it down the creeks or
junctions we had lately passed. The rapidity of the current increasing
at the same time, rendered the navigation perplexing and dangerous. We
passed reach after reach, presenting the same difficulties, and were at
length obliged to pull up at 5 p.m., having a scene of confusion and
danger before us that I did not dare to encounter with the evening's
light; for I had not only observed that the men's eye-sight failed them
as the sun descended, and that they mistook shadows for objects under
water, and VICE-VERSA, but the channel had become so narrow that,
although the banks were not of increased height, we were involved in
comparative darkness, under a close arch of trees, and a danger was
hardly seen ere we were hurried past it, almost without the possibility
of avoiding it. The reach at the head of which we stopped, was crowded
with the trunks of trees, the branches of which crossed each other in
every direction, nor could I hope, after a minute examination of the
channel, to succeed in taking the boats safely down so intricate a
passage.
DANGEROUS NAVIGATION OF THE MORUMBIDGEE.
We rose in the morning with feelings of apprehension, and uncertainty;
and, indeed, with great doubts on our minds whether we were not thus
early destined to witness the wreck, and the defeat of the expedition.
The men got slowly and cautiously into the boat, and placed themselves
so as to leave no part of her undefended. Hopkinson stood at the bow,
ready with poles to turn her head from anything upon which she might be
drifting. Thus prepared, we allowed her to go with the stream. By
extreme care and attention on the part of the men we passed this
formidable barrier. Hopkinson in particular exerted himself, and more
than once leapt from the boat upon apparently rotten logs of wood, that
I should not have judged capable of bearing his weight, the more
effectually to save the boat. It might have been imagined that where
such a quantity of timber had accumulated, a clearer channel would have
been found below, but such was not the case. In every reach we had to
encounter fresh difficulties. In some places huge trees lay athwart the
stream, under whose arched branches we were obliged to pass; but,
generally speaking, they had been carried, roots foremost, by the
current, and, therefore, presented so many points to receive us, that,
at the rate at which we were going, had we struck full upon any one of
them, it would have gone through and through the boat. About noon we
stopped to repair, or rather to take down the remains of our awning,
which had been torn away; and to breathe a moment from the state of
apprehension and anxiety in which our minds had been kept during the
morning. About one, we again started. The men looked anxiously out
ahead; for the singular change in the river had impressed on them an
idea, that we were approaching its termination, or near some adventure.
On a sudden, the river took a general southern direction, but, in its
tortuous course, swept round to every point of the compass with the
greatest irregularity. We were carried at a fearful rate down its
gloomy and contracted banks, and, in such a moment of excitement, had
little time to pay attention to the country through which we were
passing. It was, however, observed, that chalybeate-springs were
numerous close to the water's edge. At 3 p.m., Hopkinson called out
that we were approaching a junction, and in less than a minute
afterwards, we were hurried into a broad and noble river.
JUNCTION OF A LARGE RIVER--CHARACTER OF THE RIVER.
It is impossible for me to describe the effect of so instantaneous a
change of circumstances upon us. The boats were allowed to drift along
at pleasure, and such was the force with which we had been shot out of
the Morumbidgee, that we were carried nearly to the bank opposite its
embouchure, whilst we continued to gaze in silent astonishment on the
capacious channel we had entered; and when we looked for that by which
we had been led into it, we could hardly believe that the insignificant
gap that presented itself to us was, indeed, the termination of the
beautiful and noble stream, whose course we had thus successfully
followed. I can only compare the relief we experienced to that which
the seaman feels on weathering the rock upon which he expected his
vessel would have struck--to the calm which succeeds moments of
feverish anxiety, when the dread of danger is succeeded by the
certainty of escape.
To myself personally, the discovery of this river was a circumstance of
a particularly gratifying nature, since it not only confirmed the
justness of my opinion as to the ultimate fate of the Morumbidgee, and
bore me out in the apparently rash and hasty step I had taken at the
depot, but assured me of ultimate success in the duty I had to perform.
We had got on the high road, as it were, either to the south coast, or
to some important outlet; and the appearance of the river itself was
such as to justify our most sanguine expectations. I could not doubt
its being the great channel of the streams from the S.E. angle of the
island. Mr. Hume had mentioned to me that he crossed three very
considerable streams, when employed with Mr. Hovell in 1823 in
penetrating towards Port Phillips, to which the names of the Goulburn,
the Hume, and the Ovens, had been given; and as I was 300 miles from
the track these gentlemen had pursued, I considered it more than
probable that those rivers must already have formed a junction above
me, more especially when I reflected that the convexity of the
mountains to the S.E. would necessarily direct the waters falling
inwards from them to a common centre.
We entered the new river at right angles, and, as I have remarked, at
the point of junction the channel of the Morumbidgee had narrowed so as
to bear all the appearance of an ordinary creek. In breadth it did not
exceed fifty feet, and if, instead of having passed down it, I had been
making my way up the principal streams, I should little have dreamt
that so dark and gloomy an outlet concealed a river that would lead me
to the haunts of civilized man, and whose fountains rose amidst
snow-clad mountains. Such, however, is the characteristic of the
streams falling to the westward of the coast ranges. Descending into a
low and level interior, and depending on their immediate springs for
existence, they fall off, as they increase their distance from the base
of the mountains in which they rise, and in their lower branches give
little results of the promise they had previously made.
The opinion I have expressed, and which is founded on my personal
experience, that the rivers crossed by Messrs. Hovell and Hume had
already united above me, was strengthened by the capacity of the stream
we had just discovered. It had a medium width of 350 feet, with a depth
of from twelve to twenty. Its reaches were from half to three-quarters
of a mile in length, and the views upon it were splendid. Of course, as
the Morumbidgee entered it from the north, its first reach must have
been E. and W., and it was so, as nearly as possible; but it took us a
little to the southward of the latter point, in a distance of about
eight miles that we pulled down it in the course of the afternoon. We
then landed and pitched our tents for the night. Its transparent waters
were running over a sandy bed at the rate of two-and-a-half knots an
hour, and its banks, although averaging eighteen feet in height, were
evidently subject to floods.
ABSENCE OF NATIVES.
We had not seen any natives since falling in with the last tribe on the
Morumbidgee. A cessation had, therefore, taken place in our
communication with them, in re-establishing which I anticipated
considerable difficulty. It appeared singular that we should not have
fallen in with any for several successive days, more especially at the
junction of the two rivers, as in similar situations they generally
have an establishment. In examining the country back from the stream, I
did not observe any large paths, but it was evident that fires had made
extensive ravages in the neighbourhood, so that the country was,
perhaps, only temporarily deserted. Macnamee, who had wandered a little
from the tents, declared that he had seen about a dozen natives round a
fire, from whom (if he really did see them) he very precipitately fled,
but I was inclined to discredit his story, because in our journey on
the following day, we did not see even a casual wanderer.
WEATHER, TEMPERATURE, &C.
The river maintained its character, and raised our hopes to the highest
pitch. Its breadth varied from 160 to 200 yards; and only in one place,
where a reef of iron-stone stretched nearly across from the left bank,
so as to contract the channel near the right and to form a considerable
rapid, was there any apparent obstruction to our navigation. I was
sorry, however, to remark that the breadth of alluvial soil between its
outer and inner banks was very inconsiderable, and that the upper
levels were poor and sandy. Blue-gum generally occupied the former,
while the usual productions of the plains still predominated upon the
latter, and showed that the distant interior had not yet undergone any
favourable change. We experienced strong breezes from the north, but
the range of the thermometer was high, and the weather rather
oppressive than otherwise. On the night of the 16th, we had a strong
wind from the N.W., but it moderated with day-light, and shifted to the
E.N.E., and the day was favourable and cool. Our progress was in every
way satisfactory, and if any change had taken place in the river, it
was that the banks had increased in height, in many places to thirty
feet, the soil being a red loam, and the surface much above the reach
of floods. The bank opposite to the one that was so elevated, was
proportionably low, and, in general, not only heavily timbered, but
covered with reeds, and backed by a chain of ponds at the base of the
outer embankment.
INTERCOURSE WITH NATIVES.
About 4 p.m., some natives were observed running by the river side
behind us, but on our turning the boat's head towards the shore, they
ran away. It was evident that they had no idea what we were, and, from
their timidity, feeling assured that it would be impossible to bring
them to a parley, we continued onwards till our usual hour of stopping,
when we pitched our tents on the left bank for the night, it being the
one opposite to that on which the natives had appeared. We conjectured
that their curiosity would lead them to follow us, which they very
shortly did; for we had scarcely made ourselves comfortable when we
heard their wild notes through the woods as they advanced towards the
river; and their breaking into view with their spears and shields, and
painted and prepared as they were for battle, was extremely fine. They
stood threatening us, and making a great noise, for a considerable
time, but, finding that we took no notice of them, they, at length,
became quiet. I then walked to some little distance from the party, and
taking a branch in my hand, as a sign of peace, beckoned them to swim
to our side of the river, which, after some time, two or three of them
did. But they approached me with great caution, hesitating at every
step. They soon, however, gained confidence, and were ultimately joined
by all the males of their tribe. I gave the FIRST who swam the river a
tomahawk (making this a rule in order to encourage them) with which he
was highly delighted. I shortly afterwards placed them all in a row and
fired a gun before them: they were quite unprepared for such an
explosion, and after standing stupified and motionless for a moment or
two, they simultaneously took to their heels, to our great amusement. I
succeeded, however, in calling them back, and they regained their
confidence so much, that sixteen of them remained with us all night,
but the greater number retired at sunset.
On the following morning, they accompanied us down the river, where we
fell in with their tribe, who were stationed on an elevated bank a
short distance below--to the number of eighty-three men, women, and
children. Their appearance was extremely picturesque and singular. They
wanted us to land, but time was too precious for such delays. Some of
the boldest of the natives swam round and round the boat so as to
impede the use of the oars, and the women on the bank evinced their
astonishment by mingled yells and cries. They entreated us, by signs,
to remain with them, but, as I foresaw a compliance on this occasion
would hereafter be attended with inconvenience, I thought it better to
proceed on our journey, and the natives soon ceased their
importunities, and, indeed, did not follow or molest us.
ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY AND OF THE RIVER BANKS.
The river improved upon us at every mile. Its reaches were of noble
breadth, and splendid appearance. Its current was stronger, and it was
fed by numerous springs. Rocks, however, were more frequent in its bed,
and in two places almost formed a barrier across the channel, leaving
but a narrow space for the boats to go down. We passed several
elevations of from 70 to 90 feet in height, at the base of which the
stream swept along. The soil of these elevations was a mixture of clay
(marl) and sand, upon coarse sandstone. Their appearance and the manner
in which they had been acted upon by water, was singular, and afforded
a proof of the violence of the rains in this part of the interior. From
the highest of these, I observed that the country to the S.E. was
gently undulated, and so far changed in character from that through
which we had been travelling; still, however, it was covered with a low
scrub, and was barren and unpromising.
About noon of the 18th, we surprised two women at the water-side, who
immediately retreated into the brush. Shortly after, four men showed
themselves, and followed us for a short distance, but hid themselves
upon our landing. The country still appeared undulated to the S.E.; the
soil was sandy, and cypresses more abundant than any other tree. We
passed several extensive sand-banks in the river, of unusual size and
solidity, an evident proof of the sandy nature of the interior
generally. The vast accumulations of sand at the junctions of every
creek were particularly remarkable. The timber on the alluvial flats
was not by any means so large as we had hitherto observed it; nor were
the flats themselves so extensive as they are on the Morumbidgee and
the Macquarie. Notwithstanding the aspect of the country which I have
described, no POSITIVE change had as yet taken place in the general
feature of the interior. The river continued to flow in a direction
somewhat to the northward of west, through a country that underwent no
perceptible alteration. Its waters, confined to their immediate bed,
swept along considerably below the level of its inner banks; and the
spaces between them and the outer ones, though generally covered with
reeds, seemed not recently to have been flooded; while on the other
hand, they had, in many places, from successive depositions, risen to a
height far above the reach of inundation. Still, however, the more
remote interior maintained its sandy and sterile character, and
stretched away, in alternate plain and wood, to a distance far beyond
the limits of our examination.
About the 21st, a very evident change took place in it. The banks of
the river suddenly acquired a perpendicular and water-worn appearance.
Their summits were perfectly level, and no longer confined by a
secondary embankment, but preserved an uniform equality of surface back
from the stream. These banks, although so abrupt, were not so high as
the upper levels, or secondary embankments. They indicated a deep
alluvial deposit, and yet, being high above the reach of any ordinary
flood, were covered with grass, under an open box forest, into which a
moderately dense scrub occasionally penetrated. We had fallen into a
concavity similar to those of the marshes, but successive depositions
had almost filled it, and no longer subject to inundation, it had lost
all the character of those flooded tracts. The kind of country I have
been describing, lay rather to the right than to the left of the river
at this place, the latter continuing low and swampy, as if the country
to the south of the river were still subject to inundation. As the
expedition proceeded, the left bank gradually assumed the appearance of
the right; both looked water-worn and perpendicular, and though not
more than from nine to ten feet in height, their summits were perfectly
level in receding, and bore diminutive box-timber, with
widely-scattered vegetation. Not a single elevation had, as yet, broken
the dark and gloomy monotony of the interior; but as our observations
were limited to a short distance from the river, our surmises on the
nature of the distant country were necessarily involved in some
uncertainty.
THREATENED ATTACK--AMICABLE CONFERENCE.
On the 19th, as we were about to conclude our journey for the day, we
saw a large body of natives before us. On approaching them, they showed
every disposition for combat, and ran along the bank with spears in
rests, as if only waiting for an opportunity to throw them at us. They
were upon the right, and as the river was broad enough to enable me to
steer wide of them, I did not care much for their threats; but upon
another party appearing upon the left bank, I thought it high time to
disperse one or the other of them, as the channel was not wide enough
to enable me to keep clear of danger, if assailed by both, as I might
be while keeping amid the channel. I found, however, that they did not
know how to use the advantage they possessed, as the two divisions
formed a junction; those on the left swimming over to the stronger body
upon the right bank. This, fortunately, prevented the necessity of any
hostile measure on my part, and we were suffered to proceed unmolested,
for the present. The whole then followed us without any symptom of
fear, but making a dreadful shouting, and beating their spears and
shields together, by way of intimidation. It is but justice to my men
to say that in this critical situation they evinced the greatest
coolness, though it was impossible for any one to witness such a scene
with indifference. As I did not intend to fatigue the men by continuing
to pull farther than we were in the habit of doing, we landed at our
usual time on the left bank, and while the people were pitching the
tents, I walked down the bank with M'Leay, to treat with these
desperadoes in the best way we could, across the water, a measure to
which my men showed great reluctance, declaring that if during our
absence the natives approached them, they would undoubtedly fire upon
them. I assured them it was not my intention to go out of their sight.
We took our guns with us, but determined not to use them until the last
extremity, both from a reluctance to shed blood and with a view to our
future security. I held a long pantomimical dialogue with them, across
the water, and held out the olive branch in token of amity. They at
length laid aside their spears, and a long consultation took place
among them, which ended in two or three wading into the river,
contrary, as it appeared, to the earnest remonstrances of the majority,
who, finding that their entreaties had no effect, wept aloud, and
followed them with a determination, I am sure, of sharing their fate,
whatever it might have been. As soon as they landed, M'Leay and I
retired to a little distance from the bank, and sat down; that being
the usual way among the natives of the interior, to invite to an
interview. When they saw us act thus, they approached, and sat down by
us, but without looking up, from a kind of diffidence peculiar to them,
and which exists even among the nearest relatives, as I have already
had occasion to observe. As they gained confidence, however, they
showed an excessive curiosity, and stared at us in the most earnest
manner. We now led them to the camp, and I gave, as was my custom, the
first who had approached, a tomahawk; and to the others, some pieces of
iron hoop. Those who had crossed the river amounted to about
thirty-five in number. At sunset, the majority of them left us; but
three old men remained at the fire-side all night. I observed that few
of them had either lost their front teeth or lacerated their bodies, as
the more westerly tribes do. The most loathsome diseases prevailed
among them. Several were disabled by leprosy, or some similar disorder,
and two or three had entirely lost their sight. They are, undoubtedly,
a brave and a confiding people, and are by no means wanting in natural
affection. In person, they resemble the mountain tribes. They had the
thick lip, the sunken eye, the extended nostril, and long beards, and
both smooth and curly hair are common among them. Their lower
extremities appear to bear no proportion to their bust in point of
muscular strength; but the facility with which they ascend trees of the
largest growth, and the activity with which they move upon all
occasions, together with their singularly erect stature, argue that
such appearance is entirely deceptive.
INTERCOURSE WITH NATIVES.
The old men slept very soundly by the fire, and were the last to get up
in the morning. M'Leay's extreme good humour had made a most favourable
impression upon them, and I can picture him, even now, joining in their
wild song. Whether it was from his entering so readily into their
mirth, or from anything peculiar that struck them, the impression upon
the whole of us was, that they took him to have been originally a
black, in consequence of which they gave him the name of Rundi. Certain
it is, they pressed him to show his side, and asked if he had not
received a wound there--evidently as if the original Rundi had met with
a violent death from a spear-wound in that place. The whole tribe,
amounting in number to upwards of 150, assembled to see us take our
departure. Four of them accompanied us, among whom there was one
remarkable for personal strength and stature.--The 21st passed without
our falling in with any new tribe, and the night of the 22nd, saw us
still wandering in that lonely desert together. There was something
unusual in our going through such an extent of country without meeting
another tribe, but our companions appeared to be perfectly aware of the
absence of inhabitants, as they never left our side.
Although the banks of the river had been of general equality of height,
sandy elevations still occasionally formed a part of them, and their
summits were considerably higher than the alluvial flats.
RAPID IN THE RIVER--DANGEROUS DESCENT OF THE BOATS.
It was upon the crest of one of these steep and lofty banks, that on
the morning of the 22nd, the natives who were a-head of the boat,
suddenly stopped to watch our proceedings down a foaming rapid that ran
beneath. We were not aware of the danger to which we were approaching,
until we turned an angle of the river, and found ourselves too near to
retreat. In such a moment, without knowing what was before them, the
coolness of the men was strikingly exemplified. No one even spoke after
they became aware that silence was necessary. The natives (probably
anticipating misfortune) stood leaning upon their spears upon the lofty
bank above us. Desiring the men not to move from their seats, I stood
up to survey the channel, and to steer the boat to that part of it
which was least impeded by rocks. I was obliged to decide upon a hasty
survey, as we were already at the head of the rapid. It appeared to me
that there were two passages, the one down the centre of the river, the
other immediately under its right bank. A considerable rock stood
directly in own way to the latter, so that I had no alternative but to
descend the former. About forty yards below the rock, I noticed that a
line of rocks occupied the space between the two channels, whilst a
reef, projecting from the left bank, made the central passage
distinctly visible, and the rapidity of the current proportionably
great. I entertained hopes that the passage was clear, and that we
should shoot down it without interruption; but in this I was
disappointed. The boat struck with the fore-part of her keel on a
sunken rock, and, swinging round as it were on a pivot, presented her
bow to the rapid, while the skiff floated away into the strength of it.
We had every reason to anticipate the loss of our whale-boat, whose
build was so light, that had her side struck the rock, instead of her
keel, she would have been laid open from stem to stern. As it was,
however, she remained fixed in her position, and it only remained for
us to get her off the best way we could. I saw that this could only be
done by sending two of the men with a rope to the upper rock, and
getting the boat, by that means, into the still water, between that and
the lower one. We should then have time to examine the channels, and to
decide as to that down which it would be safest to proceed. My only
fear was, that the loss of the weight of the two men would lighten the
boat so much, that she would be precipitated down the rapid without my
having any command over her; but it happened otherwise. We succeeded in
getting her into the still water, and ultimately took her down the
channel under the right bank, without her sustaining any injury. A few
miles below this rapid the river took a singular bend, and we found,
after pulling several miles, that we were within a stone's throw of a
part of the stream we had already sailed down.
The four natives joined us in the camp, and assisted the men at their
various occupations. The consequence was, that they were treated with
more than ordinary kindness; and Fraser, for his part, in order to
gratify these favoured guests, made great havoc among the feathered
race. He returned after a short ramble with a variety of game, among
which were a crow, a kite, and a laughing jackass (alcedo gigantea,) a
species of king's-fisher, a singular bird, found in every part of
Australia. Its cry, which resembles a chorus of wild spirits, is apt to
startle the traveller who may be in jeopardy, as if laughing and
mocking at his misfortune. It is a harmless bird, and I seldom allowed
them to be destroyed, as they were sure to rouse us with the earliest
dawn. To this list of Fraser's spoils, a duck and a tough old cockatoo,
must be added. The whole of these our friends threw on the fire without
the delay of plucking, and snatched them from that consuming element
ere they were well singed, and devoured them with uncommon relish.
DESERTED NATIVE VILLAGE.
We pitched our tents upon a flat of good and tenacious soil. A brush,
in which there was a new species of melaleuca, backed it, in the
thickest part of which we found a deserted native village. The spot was
evidently chosen for shelter. The huts were large and long, all facing
the same point of the compass, and in every way resembling the huts
occupied by the natives of the Darling. Large flocks of whistling
ducks, and other wild fowl, flew over our heads to the N.W., as if
making their way to some large or favourite waters. My observations
placed us in lat. 34 degrees 8 minutes 15 seconds south, and in east
long. 141 degrees 9 minutes 42 seconds or nearly so; and I was at a
loss to conceive what direction the river would ultimately take. We
were considerably to the N.W. of the point at which we had entered it,
and in referring to the chart, it appeared, that if the Darling had
kept a S.W. course from where the last expedition left its banks, we
ought ere this to have struck upon it, or have arrived at its junction
with the stream on which we were journeying.
CONVERSING BY SIGNS.
The natives, in attempting to answer my interrogatories, only perplexed
me more and more. They evidently wished to explain something, by
placing a number of sticks across each other as a kind of diagram of
the country. It was, however, impossible to arrive at their meaning.
They undoubtedly pointed to the westward, or rather to the south of
that point, as the future course of the river; but there was something
more that they were anxious to explain, which I could not comprehend.
The poor fellows seemed quite disappointed, and endeavoured to beat it
into Fraser's head with as little success. I then desired Macnamee to
get up into a tree. From the upper branches of it he said he could see
hills; but his account of their appearance was such that I doubted his
story: nevertheless it might have been correct. He certainly called our
attention to a large fire, as if the country to the N.W. was in flames,
so that it appeared we were approaching the haunts of the natives at
last.
It happened that Fraser and Harris were for guard, and they sat up
laughing and talking with the natives long after we retired to rest.
Fraser, to beguile the hours, proposed shaving his sable companions,
and performed that operation with admirable dexterity upon their chief,
to his great delight. I got up at an early hour, and found to my
surprise that the whole of them had deserted us. Harris told me they
had risen from the fire about an hour before, and had crossed the
river. I was a little angry, but supposed they were aware that we were
near some tribe, and had gone on a-head to prepare and collect them.
LARGE CONCOURSE OF NATIVES--THEIR HOSTILE DEMEANOUR.
After breakfast, we proceeded onwards as usual. The river had increased
so much in width that, the wind being fair, I hoisted sail for the
first time, to save the strength of my men as much as possible. Our
progress was consequently rapid. We passed through a country that, from
the nature of its soil and other circumstances, appeared to be
intersected by creeks and lagoons. Vast flights of wild fowl passed
over us, but always at a considerable elevation, while, on the other
hand, the paucity of ducks on the river excited our surprise. Latterly,
the trees upon the river, and in its neighbourhood, had been a tortuous
kind of box. The flooded-gum grew in groups on the spaces subject to
inundation, but not on the levels above the influence of any ordinary
rise of the stream. Still they were much smaller than they were
observed to be in the higher branches of the river. We had proceeded
about nine miles, when we were surprised by the appearance in view, at
the termination of a reach, of a long line of magnificent trees of
green and dense foliage. As we sailed down the reach, we observed a
vast concourse of natives under them, and, on a nearer approach, we not
only heard their war-song, if it might so be called, but remarked that
they were painted and armed, as they generally are, prior to their
engaging in deadly conflict. Notwithstanding these outward signs of
hostility, fancying that our four friends were with them, I continued
to steer directly in for the bank on which they were collected. I
found, however, when it was almost too late to turn into the succeeding
reach to our left, that an attempt to land would only be attended with
loss of life. The natives seemed determined to resist it. We approached
so near that they held their spears quivering in their grasp ready to
hurl. They were painted in various ways. Some who had marked their
ribs, and thighs, and faces with a white pigment, looked like
skeletons, others were daubed over with red and yellow ochre, and their
bodies shone with the grease with which they had besmeared themselves.
A dead silence prevailed among the front ranks, but those in the back
ground, as well as the women, who carried supplies of darts, and who
appeared to have had a bucket of whitewash capsized over their heads,
were extremely clamorous. As I did not wish a conflict with these
people, I lowered my sail, and putting the helm to starboard, we passed
quietly down the stream in mid channel. Disappointed in their
anticipations, the natives ran along the bank of the river,
endeavouring to secure an aim at us; but, unable to throw with
certainty, in consequence of the onward motion of the boat, they flung
themselves into the most extravagant attitudes, and worked themselves
into a state of frenzy by loud and vehement shouting.
PREPARATIONS FOR CONFLICT--UNEXPECTED INTERFERENCE.
It was with considerable apprehension that I observed the river to be
shoaling fast, more especially as a huge sand-bank, a little below us,
and on the same side on which the natives had gathered, projected
nearly a third-way across the channel. To this sand-bank they ran with
tumultuous uproar, and covered it over in a dense mass. Some of the
chiefs advanced to the water to be nearer their victims, and turned
from time to time to direct their followers. With every pacific
disposition, and an extreme reluctance to take away life, I foresaw
that it would be impossible any longer to avoid an engagement, yet with
such fearful numbers against us, I was doubtful of the result. The
spectacle we had witnessed had been one of the most appalling kind, and
sufficient to shake the firmness of most men; but at that trying moment
my little band preserved their temper coolness, and if any thing could
be gleaned from their countenances, it was that they had determined on
an obstinate resistance. I now explained to them that their only chance
of escape depended, or would depend, on their firmness. I desired that
after the first volley had been fired, M'Leay and three of the men,
would attend to the defence of the boat with bayonets only, while I,
Hopkinson, and Harris, would keep up the fire as being more used to it.
I ordered, however, that no shot was to be fired until after I had
discharged both my barrels. I then delivered their arms to the men,
which had as yet been kept in the place appropriated for them, and at
the same time some rounds of loose cartridge. The men assured me they
would follow my instructions, and thus prepared, having already lowered
the sail, we drifted onwards with the current. As we neared the
sand-bank, I stood up and made signs to the natives to desist; but
without success. I took up my gun, therefore, and cocking it, had
already brought it down to a level. A few seconds more would have
closed the life of the nearest of the savages. The distance was too
trifling for me to doubt the fatal effects of the discharge; for I was
determined to take deadly aim, in hopes that the fall of one man might
save the lives of many. But at the very moment, when my hand was on the
trigger, and my eye was along the barrel, my purpose was checked by
M'Leay, who called to me that another party of blacks had made their
appearance upon the left bank of the river. Turning round, I observed
four men at the top of their speed. The foremost of them as soon as he
got a-head of the boat, threw himself from a considerable height into
the water. He struggled across the channel to the sand-bank, and in an
incredibly short space of time stood in front of the savage, against
whom my aim had been directed. Seizing him by the throat, he pushed
backwards, and forcing all who were in the water upon the bank, he trod
its margin with a vehemence and an agitation that were exceedingly
striking. At one moment pointing to the boat, at another shaking his
clenched hand in the faces of the most forward, and stamping with
passion on the sand; his voice, that was at first distinct and clear,
was lost in hoarse murmurs. Two of the four natives remained on the
left bank of the river, but the third followed his leader, (who proved
to be the remarkable savage I have previously noticed) to the scene of
action. The reader will imagine our feelings on this occasion: it is
impossible to describe them. We were so wholly lost in interest at the
scene that was passing, that the boat was allowed to drift at pleasure.
For my own part I was overwhelmed with astonishment, and in truth
stunned and confused; so singular, so unexpected, and so strikingly
providential, had been our escape.
JUNCTION OF ANOTHER STREAM--PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE FROM DANGER.
We were again roused to action by the boat suddenly striking upon a
shoal, which reached from one side of the river to the other. To jump
out and push her into deeper water was but the work of a moment with
the men, and it was just as she floated again that our attention was
withdrawn to a new and beautiful stream, coming apparently from the
north. The great body of the natives having posted themselves on the
narrow tongue of land formed by the two rivers, the bold savage who had
so unhesitatingly interfered on our account, was still in hot dispute
with them, and I really feared his generous warmth would have brought
down upon him the vengeance of the tribes. I hesitated, therefore,
whether or not to go to his assistance. It appeared, however, both to
M'Leay and myself, that the tone of the natives had moderated, and the
old and young men having listened to the remonstrances of our friend,
the middle-aged warriors were alone holding out against him. A party of
about seventy blacks were upon the right bank of the newly discovered
river, and I thought that by landing among them, we should make a
diversion in favour of our late guest; and in this I succeeded. If even
they had still meditated violence, they would have to swim a good broad
junction, and that, probably, would cool them, or we at least should
have the advantage of position. I therefore, ran the boat ashore, and
landed with M'Leay amidst the smaller party of natives, wholly unarmed,
and having directed the men to keep at a little distance from the bank.
Fortunately, what I anticipated was brought about by the stratagem to
which I had had recourse. The blacks no sooner observed that we had
landed, than curiosity took place of anger. All wrangling ceased, and
they came swimming over to us like a parcel of seals. Thus, in less
than a quarter of an hour from the moment when it appeared that all
human intervention was at on end, and we were on the point of
commencing a bloody fray, which, independently of its own disastrous
consequences, would have blasted the success of the expedition, we were
peacefully surrounded by the hundreds who had so lately threatened us
with destruction; nor was it until after we had returned to the boat,
and had surveyed the multitude upon the sloping bank above us, that we
became fully aware of the extent of our danger, and of the almost
miraculous intervention of Providence in our favour. There could not
have been less than six hundred natives upon that blackened sward. But
this was not the only occasion upon which the merciful superintendance
of that Providence to which we had humbly committed ourselves, was
strikingly manifested. If these pages fail to convey entertainment or
information, sufficient may at least be gleaned from them to furnish
matter for serious reflection; but to those who have been placed in
situations of danger where human ingenuity availed them not, and where
human foresight was baffled, I feel persuaded that these remarks are
unnecessary.
NEW RIVER, SUPPOSED TO BE THE DARLING.
It was my first care to call for our friend, and to express to him, as
well as I could, how much we stood indebted to him, at the same time
that I made him a suitable present; but to the chiefs of the tribes, I
positively refused all gifts, notwithstanding their earnest
solicitations. We next prepared to examine the new river, and turning
the boat's head towards it, endeavoured to pull up the stream. Our
larboard oars touched the right bank, and the current was too strong
for us to conquer it with a pair only; we were, therefore, obliged to
put a second upon her, a movement that excited the astonishment and
admiration of the natives. One old woman seemed in absolute ecstasy, to
whom M'Leay threw an old tin kettle, in recompense for the amusement
she afforded us.
HOIST THE UNION JACK.
As soon as we got above the entrance of the new river, we found easier
pulling, and proceeded up it for some miles, accompanied by the once
more noisy multitude. The river preserved a breadth of one hundred
yards, and a depth of rather more than twelve feet. Its banks were
sloping and grassy, and were overhung by trees of magnificent size.
Indeed, its appearance was so different from the water-worn banks of
the sister stream, that the men exclaimed, on entering it, that we had
got into an English river. Its appearance certainly almost justified
the expression; for the greenness of its banks was as new to us as the
size of its timber. Its waters, though sweet, were turbid, and had a
taste of vegetable decay, as well as a slight tinge of green. Our
progress was watched by the natives with evident anxiety. They kept
abreast of us, and talked incessantly. At length, however, our course
was checked by a net that stretched right across the stream. I say
checked, because it would have been unfair to have passed over it with
the chance of disappointing the numbers who apparently depended on it
for subsistence that day. The moment was one of intense interest to me.
As the men rested upon their oars, awaiting my further orders, a crowd
of thoughts rushed upon me. The various conjectures I had formed of the
course and importance of the Darling passed across my mind. Were they
indeed realized? An irresistible conviction impressed me that we were
now sailing on the bosom of that very stream from whose banks I had
been twice forced to retire. I directed the Union Jack to be hoisted,
and giving way to our satisfaction, we all stood up in the boat, and
gave three distinct cheers. It was an English feeling, an ebullition,
an overflow, which I am ready to admit that our circumstances and
situation will alone excuse. The eye of every native had been fixed
upon that noble flag, at all times a beautiful object, and to them a
novel one, as it waved over us in the heart of a desert. They had,
until that moment been particularly loquacious, but the sight of that
flag and the sound of our voices hushed the tumult, and while they were
still lost in astonishment, the boat's head was speedily turned, the
sail was sheeted home, both wind and current were in our favour, and we
vanished from them with a rapidity that surprised even ourselves, and
which precluded every hope of the most adventurous among them to keep
up with us.
CHAPTER V.
Character of the country--Damage of provisions--Adroitness of the
natives in catching fish--The skiff broken up--Stream from the
North-East supposed to be the Darling--Change of country in descending
the river--Intercourse with the natives--Prevalence of loathsome
diseases among them--Apparent populousness of the country--Junction of
several small streams--The Rufus, the Lindesay, &c.--Rainy and
tempestuous weather--Curious appearance of the banks--Troublesomeness
of the natives--Inhospitable and desolate aspect of the
country--Condition of the men--Change in the geological character of
the country--The river passes through a valley among hills.
Arrived once more at the junction of the two rivers, and unmolested in
our occupations, we had leisure to examine it more closely. Not having
as yet given a name to our first discovery, when we re-entered its
capacious channel on this occasion, I laid it down as the Murray River,
in compliment to the distinguished officer, Sir George Murray, who then
presided over the colonial department, not only in compliance with the
known wishes of his Excellency General Darling, but also in accordance
with my own feelings as a soldier.
The new river, whether the Darling or an additional discovery, meets
its more southern rival on a N. by E. course; the latter, running
W.S.W. at the confluence, the angle formed by the two rivers, is,
therefore, so small that both may be considered to preserve their
proper course, and neither can be said to be tributary to the other. At
their junction, the Murray spreads its waters over the broad and sandy
shore, upon which our boat grounded, while its more impetuous neighbour
flows through the deep but narrow channel it has worked out for itself,
under the right bank. The strength of their currents must have been
nearly equal, since there was as distinct a line between their
respective waters, to a considerable distance below the junction, as if
a thin board alone separated them. The one half the channel contained
the turbid waters of the northern stream, the other still preserved
their original transparency.
INUNDATED AND ALLUVIAL COUNTRY.
The banks of the Murray did not undergo any immediate change as we
proceeded. We noticed that the country had, at some time, been subject
to extensive inundation, and was, beyond doubt, of alluvial formation.
We passed the mouths of several large creeks that came from the north
and N.W., and the country in those directions seemed to be much
intersected by water-courses; while to the south it was extremely low.
Having descended several minor rapids, I greatly regretted that we had
no barometer to ascertain the actual dip of the interior. I computed,
however, that we were not more than from eighty to ninety feet above
the level of the sea. We found the channel of the Murray much
encumbered with timber, and noticed some banks of sand that were of
unusual size, and equalled the largest accumulations of it on the sea
shore, both in extent and solidity.
STATE OF PROVISIONS.
We would gladly have fired into the flights of wild fowl that winged
their way over us, for we, about this time, began to feel the
consequences of the disaster that befell us in the Morumbidgee. The
fresh water having got mixed with the brine in the meat casks, the
greater part of our salt provisions had got spoiled, so that we were
obliged to be extremely economical in the expenditure of what remained,
as we knew not to what straits we might be driven. It will naturally be
asked why we did not procure fish? The answer is easy. The men had
caught many in the Morumbidgee, and on our first navigation of the
Murray, but whether it was that they had disagreed with them, or that
their appetites were palled, or that they were too fatigued after the
labour of the day to set the lines, they did not appear to care about
them. The only fish we could take was the common cod or perch; and,
without sauce or butter, it is insipid enough. We occasionally
exchanged pieces of iron-hoop for two other kinds of fish, the one a
bream, the other a barbel, with the natives, and the eagerness with
which they met our advances to barter, is a strong proof of their
natural disposition towards this first step in civilization.
DEXTERITY OF NATIVES IN FISHING.
As they threw off all reserve when accompanying us as ambassadors, we
had frequent opportunities of observing their habits. The facility, for
instance, with which they procured fish was really surprising. They
would slip, feet foremost, into the water as they walked along the bank
of the river, as if they had accidentally done so, but, in reality, to
avoid the splash they would necessarily have made if they had plunged
in head foremost. As surely as they then disappeared under the surface
of the water, so surely would they re-appear with a fish writhing upon
the point of their short spears. The very otter scarcely exceeds them
in power over the finny race, and so true is the aim of these savages,
even under water, that all the fish we procured from them were pierced
either close behind the lateral fin, or in the very centre of the head,
It is certain, from their indifference to them, that the natives seldom
eat fish when they can get anything else. Indeed, they seemed more
anxious to take the small turtle, which, sunning themselves on the
trunks or logs of trees over the water, were, nevertheless, extremely
on their guard. A gentle splash alone indicated to us that any thing
had dropped into the water, but the quick eyes and ears of our guides
immediately detected what had occasioned it, and they seldom failed to
take the poor little animal that had so vainly trusted to its own
watchfulness for security. It appeared that the natives did not, from
choice, frequent the Murray; it was evident, therefore, that they had
other and better means of subsistence away from it, and it struck me,
at the time, that the river we had just passed watered a better country
than any through which the Murray had been found to flow.
BREAK UP THE SKIFF.
We encamped rather earlier than usual upon the left bank of the river,
near a broad creek; for as the skiff had been a great drag upon us, I
determined on breaking it up, since there was no probability that we
should ever require the still, which alone remained in her. We,
consequently, burnt the former, to secure her nails and iron work, and
I set Clayton about cutting the copper of the latter into the shape of
crescents, in order to present them to the natives. Some large huts
were observed on the side of the creek, a little above the camp, the
whole of which faced the N.E. This arrangement had previously been
noticed by us, so that I was led to infer that the severest weather
comes from the opposite quarter in this part of the interior. I had not
the least idea, at the time, however, that we should, ere we reached
the termination of our journey, experience the effects of the S.W.
winds.
We must have fallen considerably during the day from the level of our
morning's position, for we passed down many reaches where the decline
of country gave an increased velocity to the current of the river.
I had feared, not only in consequence of the unceremonious manner in
which we had left them, but, because I had, in some measure, rejected
the advances of their chiefs, that none of the natives would follow us,
and I regretted the circumstance on account of my men, as well as the
trouble we should necessarily have in conciliating the next tribe. We
had not, however, been long encamped, when seven blacks joined us. I
think they would have passed on if we had not called to them. As it
was, they remained with us but for a short time. We treated them very
kindly, but they were evidently under constraint, and were, no doubt,
glad when they found we did not object to their departing.
NEW RIVER IDENTIFIED WITH THE DARLING.
I have stated, that I felt satisfied in my own mind, that the beautiful
stream we had passed was no other than the river Darling of my former
journey. The bare assertion, however, is not sufficient to satisfy the
mind of the reader, upon a point of such importance, more especially
when it is considered how remarkable a change the Darling must have
undergone, if this were indeed a continuation of it. I am free to
confess that it required an effort to convince myself, but after due
consideration, I see no reason to alter the opinion I formed at a
moment of peculiar embarrassment. Yet it by no means follows that I
shall convince others, although I am myself convinced. The question is
one of curious speculation, and the consideration of it will lead us to
an interesting conjecture, as to the probable nature of the distant
interior, between the two points. It will be remembered that I was
obliged to relinquish my pursuit of the Darling, in east long. 144
degrees 48 minutes 30 seconds in lat. 30 degrees 17 minutes 30 seconds
south. I place the junction of the Murray and the new river, in long.
140 degrees 56 minutes east, and in south lat. 34 degrees 3 minutes. I
must remark, however, that the lunars I took on this last occasion,
were not satisfactory, and that there is, probably, an error, though
not a material one, in the calculation. Before I measure the distance
between the above points, or make any remarks on the results of my own
observations, I would impress the following facts upon the reader's
mind.
I found and left the Darling in a complete state of exhaustion. As a
river it had ceased to flow; the only supply it received was from brine
springs, which, without imparting a current, rendered its waters saline
and useless, and lastly, the fish in it were different from those
inhabiting the other known rivers of the interior. It is true, I did
not procure a perfect specimen of one, but we satisfactorily
ascertained that they were different, inasmuch as they had large and
strong scales, whereas the fish in the western waters have smooth
skins. On the other hand, the waters of the new river were sweet,
although turbid; it had a rapid current in it; and its fish were of the
ordinary kind. In the above particulars, therefore, they differed much
as they could well differ. Yet there were some strong points of
resemblance in the appearance of the rivers themselves, which were more
evident to me than I can hope to make them to the reader. Both were
shaded by trees of the same magnificent dimensions; and the same kind
of huts were erected on the banks of each, inhabited by the same
description, or race, of people, whose weapons, whose implements, and
whose nets corresponded in most respects.
We will now cast our eyes over the chart: and see if the position of
the two rivers upon it, will at all bear out our conclusion that they
are one and the same; and whether the line that would join them is the
one that the Darling would naturally take, in reference to its previous
course.--We shall find that the two points under discussion, bear
almost N.E. and S.W. of each other respectively, the direct line in
which the Darling had been ascertained to flow, as far as it had been
found practicable to trace it. I have already remarked that the
fracture of my barometer prevented my ascertaining the height of the
bed of the Darling above the sea, during the first expedition. A
similar accident caused me equal disappointment on the second; because
one of the most important points upon which I was engaged was to
ascertain the dip of the interior. I believe I stated, in its proper
place, that I did not think the Darling could possibly be 200 feet
above the sea, and as far as my observations bear me out, I should
estimate the bed of the Murray, at its junction with the new river, to
be within 100. It would appear that there is a distance of 300 miles
between the Murray River at this place, and the Darling; a space amply
sufficient for the intervention of a hilly country. No one could have
been more attentive to the features of the interior than I was; nor
could any one have dwelt upon their peculiarities with more earnest
attention. It were hazardous to build up any new theory, however
ingenious it may appear. The conclusions into which I have been led,
are founded on actual observation of the country through which I
passed, and extend not beyond my actual range of vision; unless my
assuming that the decline of the interior to the south has been
satisfactorily established, be considered premature. If not, the
features of the country certainly justify my deductions; and it will be
found that they were still more confirmed by subsequent
observation.--That the Darling should have lost its current in its
upper branches, is not surprising, when the level nature of the country
into which it falls is taken into consideration; neither does it
surprise me that it should be stationary in one place, and flowing in
another; since, if, as in the present instance, there is a great extent
of country between the two points, which may perhaps be of considerable
elevation, the river may receive tributaries, whose waters will of
course follow the general decline of the country. I take it to be so in
the case before us; and am of opinion, that the lower branches of the
Darling are not at all dependent on its sources for a current, or for a
supply of water. I have somewhere observed that it appeared to me the
depressed interior over which I had already travelled, was of
comparatively recent formation. And, by whatever convulsion or change
so extensive a tract became exposed, I cannot but infer, that the
Darling is the main channel by which the last waters of the ocean were
drained off. The bottom of the estuary, for it cannot be called a
valley, being then left exposed, it consequently remains the natural
and proper reservoir for the streams from the eastward, or those
falling easterly from the westward, if any such remain to be discovered.
From the junction of the Morumbidgee to the junction of the new river,
the Murray had held a W.N.W. course. From the last junction it changed
its direction to the S.W., and increased considerably in size. The
country to the south was certainly lower than that to the north; for,
although both banks had features common to each other, the flooded
spaces were much more extensive to our left than to our right.
CHANGE OF COUNTRY.
We started on the morning of the 24th, all the lighter from having got
rid of the skiff, and certainly freer to act in case the natives should
evince a hostile disposition towards us. As we proceeded down the
river, the appearances around us more and more plainly indicated a
change of country. Cypresses were observed in the distance, and the
ground on which they stood was higher than that near the stream; as if
it had again acquired its secondary banks. At length these heights
approached the river so nearly as to form a part of its banks, and to
separate one alluvial flat from another. Their summits were perfectly
level; their soil was a red sandy loam; and their productions, for the
most part, salsolae and misembrianthemum. From this it would appear
that we had passed through a second region, that must at some time have
been under water, and that still retained all the marks of a country
partially subject to flood.
INTRODUCED FROM TRIBE TO TRIBE.
We had, as I have said, passed over this region, and were again hemmed
in by those sandy and sterile tracts upon which the beasts of the field
could obtain neither food nor water. We overtook the seven deputies
some time after we started, but soon lost sight of them again, as they
cut off the sweeps of the river, and shortened their journey as much as
possible. At 2 p.m. we found them with a tribe of their countrymen,
about eighty in number. We pulled in to the bank and remained with them
for a short time, and I now determined to convince the blacks who had
preceded us, that I had not been actuated by any other desire than that
of showing to them that we were not to be intimidated by numbers, when
I refused to make them any presents after their show of hostility. I
now, therefore, gave them several implements, sundry pieces of iron
hoop, and an ornamental badge of copper. When we left the tribe, we
were regularly handed over to their care. The seven men who had
introduced us, went back at the same time that we continued our
journey, and two more belonging to the new tribe, went on a-head to
prepare the the neighbouring tribe to receive us; nor did we see
anything more of them during the day.
We encamped on the left bank of the river, amidst a polygonum scrub, in
which we found a number of the crested pigeon. It was late before the
tents were pitched: as Fraser seldom assisted in that operation, but
strolled out with his gun after he had kindled a fire, so on this
occasion he wandered from the camp in search of novelty, and on his
return, informed me that there was a considerable ridge to the south of
a plain upon which he had been.
I had myself walked out to the S.E., and on ascending a few feet above
the level of the camp, got into a scrub. I was walking quietly through
it, when I heard a rustling noise, and looking in the direction whence
it proceeded, I observed a small kangaroo approaching me. Having a
stick in my hand, and being aware that I was in one of their paths, I
stood still until the animal came close up to me, without apparently
being aware of my presence. I then gave it a blow an the side of the
head, and made it reel to one side, but the stick, being rotten, broke
with the force of the blow, and thus disappointed me of a good meal.
During my absence from the camp, a flight of cockatoos, new to us, but
similar to one that Mr. Hume shot on the Darling, passed over the
tents, and I found M'Leay, with his usual anxiety, trying to get a shot
at them. They had, he told me, descended to water, but they had chosen
a spot so difficult of approach without discovery, that he had found it
impossible to get within shot of them.
RIDGE TO THE SOUTH-EAST.
There was a considerable rapid just below our position, which I
examined before dark. Not seeing any danger, I requested M'Leay to
proceed down it in the boat as soon as he had breakfasted, and to wait
for me at the bottom of it. As I wished to ascertain the nature and
height of the elevations which Fraser had magnified into something
grand, Fraser and I proceeded to the centre of a large plain,
stretching from the left bank of the river to the southward. It was
bounded to the S.E. by a low scrub; to the S. a thickly wooded ridge
appeared to break the level of the country. It extended from east to
west for four or five miles, and then gradually declined. At its
termination, the country seemed to dip, and a dense fog, as from an
extensive sheet of water, enveloped the landscape. The plain was
crowded with cockatoos, that were making their morning's repast on the
berries of the salsolae and rhagodia, with which it was covered.
DISTANT RANGES SEEN.
M'Leay had got safely down the rapid, so that as soon as I joined him,
we proceeded on our journey. We fell in with the tribe we had already
seen, but increased in numbers, and we had hardly left them, when we
found another tribe most anxiously awaiting our arrival. We stayed with
the last for some time, and exhausted our vocabulary, and exerted our
ingenuity to gain some information from them. I directed Hopkinson to
pile up some clay, to enquire if we were near any hills, when two or
three of the blacks caught the meaning, and pointed to the N.W.
Mulholland climbed up a tree in consequence of this, and reported to me
that he saw lofty ranges in the direction to which the blacks pointed;
that there were two apparently, the one stretching to the N.E., the
other to the N.W. He stated their distance to be about forty miles, and
added that he thought he could observe other ranges, through the gap,
which, according to the alignment of two sticks, that I placed
according to Mulholland's directions, bore S. 130 W.
We had landed upon the right bank of the river, and there was a large
lagoon immediately behind us. The current in the river did not run so
strong as it had been. Its banks were much lower, and were generally
covered with reeds. The spaces subject to flood were broader than
heretofore, and the country for more than twenty miles was extremely
depressed. Our view from the highest ground near the camp was very
confined, since we were apparently in a hollow, and were unable to
obtain a second sight of the ranges we had noticed.
PASS THREE CREEKS.
Three creeks fell into the Murray hereabouts. One from the north,
another from the N.E., and the third from the south. The two first were
almost choked up with the trunks of trees, but the last had a clear
channel. Our tents stood on ground high above the reach of flood. The
soil was excellent, and the brushes behind us abounded with a new
species of melaleuca.
The heat of the weather, at this time, was extremely oppressive, and
the thermometer was seldom under 100 degrees of Fahr. at noon. The
wind, too, we observed, seldom remained stationary for any length of
time, but made its regular changes every twenty-four hours. In the
morning, it invariably blew from the N.E., at noon it shifted to N.W.,
and as the sun set it flew round to the eastward of south. A few dense
clouds passed over us occasionally, but no rain fell from them.
DISEASES OF THE NATIVES.
Our intercourse with the natives had now been constant. We had found
the interior more populous than we had any reason to expect; yet as we
advanced into it, the population appeared to increase. It was
impossible for us to judge of the disposition of the natives during the
short interviews we generally had with them, and our motions were so
rapid that we did not give them time to form any concerted plan of
attack, had they been inclined to attack us. They did not, however,
show any disposition to hostility, but, considering all things, were
quiet and orderly, nor did any instances of theft occur, or, at least,
none fell under my notice. The most loathsome of diseases prevailed
throughout the tribes, nor were the youngest infants exempt from them.
Indeed, so young were some, whose condition was truly disgusting, that
I cannot but suppose they must have been born in a state of disease;
but I am uncertain whether it is fatal or not in its results, though,
most probably it hurries many to a premature grave. How these diseases
originated it is impossible to say. Certainly not from the colony,
since the midland tribes alone were infected. Syphilis raged amongst
them with fearful violence; many had lost their noses, and all the
glandular parts were considerably affected. I distributed some Turner's
cerate to the women, but left Fraser to superintend its application. It
could do no good, of course, but it convinced the natives we intended
well towards them, and, on that account, it was politic to give it,
setting aside any humane feeling.
POPULOUS DISTRICT.
The country through which we passed on the 28th, was extremely low,
full of lagoons, and thickly inhabited. No change took place in the
river, or in the nature and construction of its banks. We succeeded in
getting a view of the hills we had noticed when with the last tribe,
and found that they bore from us due north, N. 22 E., and S. 130 W.
They looked bare and perpendicular, and appeared to be about twenty
miles from us. I am very uncertain as to the character of these hills,
but still think that they must have been some of the faces of the bold
cliffs that we had frequently passed under. From the size and number of
the huts, and from the great breadth of the foot-paths, we were still
further led to conclude that we were passing through a very populous
district. What the actual number of inhabitants was it is impossible to
say, but we seldom communicated with fewer than 200 daily. They sent
ambassadors forward regularly from one tribe to another, in order to
prepare for our approach, a custom that not only saved us an infinity
of time, but also great personal risk. Indeed, I doubt very much
whether we should ever have pushed so far down the river, had we not
been assisted by the natives themselves. I was particularly careful not
to do anything that would alarm them, or to permit any liberty to be
taken with their women. Our reserve in this respect seemed to excite
their surprise, for they asked sundry questions, by signs and
expressions, as to whether we had any women, and where they were. The
whole tribe generally assembled to receive us, and all, without
exception, were in a complete state of nudity, and really the loathsome
condition and hideous countenances of the women would, I should
imagine, have been a complete antidote to the sexual passion. It is to
be observed, that the women are very inferior in appearance to the men.
The latter are, generally speaking, a clean-limbed and powerful race,
much stouter in the bust than below, but withal, active, and, in some
respects, intelligent; but the women are poor, weak, and emaciated.
This, perhaps, is owing to their poverty and paucity of food, and to
the treatment they receive at the hands of the men; but the latter did
not show any unkindness towards them in our presence.
Although I desired to avoid exciting their alarm, I still made a point
of showing them the effects of a gunshot, by firing at a kite, or any
other bird that happened to be near. My dexterity--for I did not trust
Fraser, who would, ten to one, have missed his mark--was generally
exerted, as I have said, against a kite or a crow; both of which birds
generally accompanied the blacks from place to place to pick up the
remnants of their meals. Yet, I was often surprised at the apparent
indifference with which the natives not only saw the effect of the
shot, but heard the report. I have purposely gone into the centre of a
large assemblage and fired at a bird that has fallen upon their very
heads, without causing a start or an exclamation, without exciting
either their alarm or their curiosity.
Whence this callous feeling proceeded, whether from strength of nerve,
or because they had been informed by our forerunners that we should
show off before them, I know not, but I certainly expected a very
different effect from that which my firing generally produced, although
I occasionally succeeded in scattering them pretty well.
JUNCTION OF THE RUFUS.
About 11 a.m., we arrived at the junction of a small river with the
Murray, at which a tribe, about 250 in number, had assembled to greet
us. We landed, therefore, for the double purpose of distributing
presents, and of examining the junction, which, coming from the north,
of course, fell into the Murray upon its right bank. Its waters were so
extremely muddy, and its current so rapid, that it must have been
swollen by some late rains. Perhaps, it had its sources in the hills we
had seen; be that as it may, it completely discoloured the waters of
the Murray.
We made it a point never to distribute any presents among the natives
until we had made them all sit, or stand, in a row. Sometimes this was
a troublesome task, but we generally succeeded in gaining our point;
with a little exertion of patience. M'Leay was a famous hand at
ordering the ranks, and would, I am sure, have made a capital
drill-sergeant, not less on account of his temper than of his
perseverance. I called the little tributary I have noticed, the Rufus,
in honour of my friend M'Leay's red head, and I have no doubt, he will
understand the feeling that induced me to give it such a name.
GEOLOGICAL EXAMINATION.
Not many miles below the Rufus, we passed under a lofty cliff upon the
same side with it. It is the first elevation of any consequence that
occurs below the Darling, and not only on that account, but also on
account of the numerous substances of which it is composed, and the
singular formation that is near requires to be particularly noticed.
[See Appendix.] The examination was a task of considerable danger, and
both Fraser and myself had well nigh been buried under a mass of the
cliff that became suddenly detached, and, breaking into thousands of
pieces, went hissing and cracking into the river.
THUNDER STORMS.
The weather about this time was extremely oppressive and close. Thunder
clouds darkened the sky, but no rain fell. The thermometer was seldom
below 104 at noon, and its range was very trifling. The wind shifted
several times during the twenty-four hours; but these changes had no
effect on the thermometer. It was evident, however, as the sun set on
the evening of the 26th, that the clouds from which thunder had for the
last four or five days disturbed the silence of nature around us, would
not long support their own weight. A little before midnight, it
commenced raining, and both wind and rain continued to increase in
violence until about seven in the morning of the 27th; when the weather
moderated.
Two or three blacks had accompanied us from the last tribe, and had
lain down near the fire. As the storm increased, however, they got up,
and swimming across the river, left us to ourselves. This was a very
unusual thing, nor can I satisfy myself as to their object, unless it
was to get into shelter, for these people though they wander naked over
the country, and are daily in the water, feel the cold and rain very
acutely.
Observing the clouds collecting for so many days, I indulged hopes that
we were near high lands, perhaps mountains; but from the loftiest spots
we could see nothing but a level and dark horizon. Anxious to gain as
correct a knowledge of the country as possible we had, in the course of
the day, ascended a sandy ridge that was about a mile from the river.
The view from the summit of this ridge promised to be more extensive
than any we had of late been enabled to obtain; and as far as actual
observation went, we were not disappointed, although in every other
particular, the landscape was one of the most unpromising description.
To the S. and S.E., the country might be said to stretch away in one
unbroken plain, for it was so generally covered with wood that every
inequality was hidden from our observation. To the S.W. the river line
was marked out by a succession of red cliffs, similar to those we had
already passed. To the north, the interior was evidently depressed; it
was overgrown with a low scrub, and seemed to be barren in the extreme.
The elevations upon which we stood were similar to the sand-hills near
the coast, and had not a blade of grass upon them. Yet, notwithstanding
the sterility of the soil, the large white amarillis which grew in such
profusion on the alluvial plains of the Macquarie, was also abundant
here. But it had lost its dazzling whiteness, and had assumed a sickly
yellow colour and its very appearance indicated that it was not in a
congenial soil.
LINDESAY RIVER.
We passed two very considerable junctions, the one coming from the
S.E., the other from the north. Both had currents in them, but the
former was running much stronger than the latter. It falls into the
Murray, almost opposite to the elevations I have been describing, and,
if a judgment can be hazarded from its appearance at its embouchure, it
must, in its higher branches, be a stream of considerable magnitude.
Under this impression, I have called it the Lindesay, as a tribute of
respect to my commanding officer, Colonel Patrick Lindesay of the 39th
regt. I place it in east long. 140 degrees 29 minutes, and in lat. 33
degrees 58 minutes south. Mr. Hume is of opinion that this is the most
southerly of the rivers crossed by him and Mr. Hovel in 1823; but, as I
have already remarked, I apprehend that all the rivers those gentlemen
crossed, had united in one main stream above the junction of the
Morumbidgee, and I think it much more probable that this is a new
river, and that it rises to the westward of Port Phillips, rather than
in the S.E. angle of the coast.
NATIVES BECOME TROUBLESOME.
We found the blacks who had deserted us with a tribe at the junction,
but it was weak in point of numbers; as were also two other tribes or
hordes to whom we were introduced in rapid succession. Taken
collectively, they could not have amounted to 230 men, women, and
children. The last of these hordes was exceedingly troublesome, and I
really thought we should have been obliged to quarrel with them.
Whether it was that we were getting impatient, or that our tempers were
soured, I know not, but even M'Leay, whose partiality towards the
natives was excessive at the commencement of our journey, now became
weary of such constant communication as we had kept up with them. Their
sameness of appearance, the disgusting diseases that raged among them,
their abominable filth, the manner in which they pulled us about, and
the impossibility of making them understand us, or of obtaining any
information from them,--for if we could have succeeded in this point,
we should have gladly borne every inconvenience,--all combined to
estrange us from these people and to make their presence disagreeable.
Yet there was an absolute necessity to keep up the chain of
communication, to ensure our own safety, setting aside every other
consideration; but as I had been fortunate in my intercourse with the
natives during the first expedition, so I hoped the present journey
would terminate without the occurrence of any fatal collision between
us. The natives, it is true, were generally quiet; but they crowded
round us frequently without any regard to our remonstrances, laying
hold of the boat to prevent our going away, and I sometimes thought
that had any of them been sufficiently bold to set the example, many of
the tribes would have attempted our capture. Indeed, in several
instances, we were obliged to resort to blows ere we could disengage
ourselves from the crowds around us, and whenever this occurred, it
called forth the most sullen and ferocious scowl--such, probably, as
would be the forerunner of hostility, and would preclude every hope of
mercy at their hands. With each new tribe we were, in some measure,
obliged to submit to an examination, and to be pulled about, and
fingered all over. They generally measured our hands and feet with
their own, counted our fingers, felt our faces, and besmeared our
shirts all over with grease and dirt. This was no very agreeable
ceremony, and a repetition of it was quite revolting, more especially
when we had to meet the grins or frowns of the many with firmness and
composure.
TEMPESTUOUS WEATHER.
The weather had been tempestuous and rainy, for three or four
successive days: on the 28th it cleared up a little. Under any
circumstances, however, we could not have delayed our journey. We had
not proceeded very far when it again commenced to rain and to blow
heavily from the N.W. The river trended to the South. We passed down
several rapids, and observed the marks of recent flood on the trees, to
the height of seven feet. The alluvial flats did not appear to have
been covered, or to be subject to overflow. The timber upon them was
not of a kind that is found on flooded lands, but wherever reeds
prevailed the flooded or blue gum stretched its long white branches
over them. The country to the westward was low and bushy.
SINGULAR FORMATION OF THE BANKS.
The left bank of the Murray was extremely lofty, and occasionally rose
to 100 feet perpendicularly from the water. It is really difficult to
describe the appearance of the banks at this place; so singular were
they in character, and so varied in form. Here they had the most
beautiful columnar regularity, with capitals somewhat resembling the
Corinthian order in configuration; there they showed like falls of
muddy water that had suddenly been petrified; and in another place they
resembled the time-worn battlements of a feudal castle. It will
naturally be asked, of what could these cliffs have been composed to
assume so many different forms? and what could have operated to produce
such unusual appearances? The truth is, they were composed almost
wholly of clay and sand. Wherever the latter had accumulated, or
predominated, the gradual working of water had washed it away, and left
the more compact body, in some places, so delicately hollowed out, that
it seemed rather the work of art than of nature. This singular
formation rested on a coarse grit, that showed itself in slabs.
From the frequent occurrence of rapids I should imagine that we had
fallen considerably, but there was no visible decline of country. The
river swept along, in broad and noble reaches, at the base of the
cliffs. Vast accumulations of sand were in its bed, a satisfactory
proof of the sandy character of the distant interior, if other proof
were wanting.
We did not see so many natives on the 28th as we had been in the habit
of seeing; perhaps in consequence of the boisterous weather. A small
tribe of about sixty had collected to receive us, but we passed on
without taking any notice of them, Nevertheless they deputed two of
their men to follow us, who overtook us just as we stopped for the
purpose of pitching our tents before the clouds should burst, that just
then bore the most threatening appearance. The blacks seemed to be
perfectly aware what kind of a night we should have, and busied
themselves preparing a hut and making a large fire.
The evening proved extremely dark, and towards midnight it blew and
rained fiercely. Towards morning the wind moderated, and the rain
ceased. Still, the sky was overcast, and the clouds were passing
rapidly over us. The wind had, however, changed some points, and from
the N.W. had veered round to the S.S.W.; and the day eventually turned
out cool and pleasant.
LARGE TRIBE OF NATIVES--THEIR INDIFFERENCE TO FIRE-ARMS.
We fell in with a large tribe of natives, amounting in all to 270. They
were extremely quiet, and kept away from the boat; in consequence of
which I distributed a great many presents among them. This tribe was
almost the only one that evinced any eagerness to see us. The lame had
managed to hobble along, and the blind were equally anxious to touch
us. There were two or three old men stretched upon the bank, from whom
the last sigh seemed about to depart; yet these poor creatures evinced
an anxiety to see us, and to listen to a description of our appearance,
although it seemed doubtful whether they would be alive twenty-four
hours after we left them. An old woman, a picture of whom would disgust
my readers, made several attempts to embrace me. I managed, however, to
avoid her, and at length got rid of her by handing her over to Fraser,
who was no wise particular as to the object of his attention. This
tribe must have been one of the most numerous on the banks of the
Murray, since we fell in with detached families for many miles below
the place where we had parted from the main body.
I have omitted to mention that, while among them, I fired at a kite and
killed it; yet, though close to me, the blacks did not start or evince
the least surprise. It really is difficult to account for such firmness
of nerve or self-command. It is not so much a matter of surprise that
they were indifferent to its effects, for probably they knew them not,
but it is certainly odd that they should not have been startled by the
report.
The river inclined very much to the southward for some miles below our
last camp; at length it struck against some elevations that turned it
more to the westward. Before we terminated our day's pull it again
changed its direction to the eastward of south. The right bank became
lofty, and the left proportionably depressed.
REFLECTIONS ON THE PROGRESS OF THE EXPEDITION.
In consequence of the boisterous weather we had had, we were uncertain
as to our precise situation, even in point of latitude. But I was
perfectly aware that we were considerably to the south of the head of
St. Vincent's Gulf. I began, therefore, to contemplate with some
confidence a speedy termination to our wanderings, or, at least, that
we should soon reach the extreme point to which we could advance. The
sun was at this time out of my reach, since the sextant would not
measure double the altitude. Observations of the stars were, in like
manner, uncertain, in consequence of the boisterous weather we had had,
and the unavoidable agitation of the quicksilver. My last observation
of Antares placed us in latitude 34 degrees 4 minutes; so that we were
still 115 miles from the coast.
We had now been twenty-two days upon the river, and it was uncertain
how long we should be in compassing the distance we had still to run.
Considering all things, we had, as yet, been extremely fortunate; and I
hoped that we should terminate our journey without the occurrence of
any fatal accident. Had the country corresponded with the noble stream
that traversed it, we should have been proportionably elated, but it
was impossible to conceal from ourselves its inhospitable and
unprofitable character, as far as we had, as yet, penetrated. If we
except the partial and alluvial flats on the immediate borders, and in
the neighbourhood of its tributaries and creeks, the Murray might be
said to flow through a barren and sandy interior. The appearance of the
country through which we passed on the 29th, was far from being such as
to encourage us with the hopes of any change for the better. The river
was enclosed, on either side, by the same kind of banks that have
already been described; and it almost appeared as if the plain had been
rent asunder to allow of a passage for its waters. The view of the
distant interior was unsatisfactory. It was, for the most part, covered
with brush, but, at length, cypresses again made their appearance,
although at a considerable distance from us.
The river continued to flow to the southward, a circumstance that gave
me much satisfaction, for I now began to feel some anxiety about the
men. They had borne their fatigues and trials so cheerfully, and had
behaved so well, that I could not but regret the scanty provision that
remained for them. The salt meat being spoiled, it had fallen to the
share of the dogs, so that we had little else than flour to eat. Fish
no one would touch, and of wild fowl there were none to be seen. The
men complained of sore eyes, from the perspiration constantly running
into them, and it was obvious to me that they were much reduced. It
will be borne in mind, that we were now performing the earliest part of
our task, and were going down with the stream. I was sure that on our
return, (For I had no hopes of meeting any vessel on the coast,) we
should have to make every day's journey good against the current; and,
if the men were now beginning to sink, it might well be doubted whether
their strength would hold out. Both M'Leay and myself, therefore,
encouraged any cheerfulness that occasionally broke out among them, and
Frazer enlivened them by sundry tunes that he whistled whilst employed
in skinning birds. I am sure, no galley-slave ever took to his oar with
more reluctance than poor Frazer. He was indefatigable in most things,
but he could not endure the oar.
NATIVES BECOME UNRULY.
We did not fall in with any natives on the 30th, neither did we see
those who had preceded us from the last tribe. On the 31st, to my
mortification, the river held so much to the northward, that we undid
almost all our southing. What with its regular turns, and its extensive
sweeps, the Murray covers treble the ground, at a moderate computation,
that it would occupy in a direct course; and we had a practical
instance of the truth of this in the course of the afternoon, when we
found our friends ready to introduce us to a large assemblage of
natives. On asking them how they had passed us, they pointed directly
east to the spot at which we had parted. By crossing from one angle of
the river to the other, they had performed in little more than half a
day, a journey which it had taken us two long days to accomplish. After
our usual distribution of presents, we pushed away from the bank;
though not without some difficulty, in consequence of the obstinacy of
the natives in wishing to detain us; and I was exceedingly vexed to
find, while we were yet in sight of them, that we had proceeded down a
shallow channel on one side of an island instead of the further and
deeper one; so that the boat ultimately grounded. A crowd of the blacks
rushed into the water, and surrounded us on every side. Some came to
assist us, others, under a pretence of assisting, pulled against us,
and I was at length obliged to repel them by threats. A good many of
them were very much disposed to annoy us, and, after the boat was in
deep water, some of them became quite infuriated, because we would not
return. Had we been within distance, they would assuredly have hurled
their spears at us. Thirteen of them followed us to our resting place.
They kept rather apart from us, and kindled their fire in a little
hollow about fifty paces to our right; nor did they venture to approach
the tents unless we called to them, so that by their quiet and
unobtrusive conduct they made up in some measure for the unruly
proceedings of others of their tribe.
We had now arrived at a point at which I hoped to gain some information
from the natives, respecting the sea. It was to no purpose, however,
that I questioned these stupid people. They understood perfectly, by my
pointing to the sky, and by other signs, that I was inquiring about
large waters, but they could not, or would not, give any information on
the subject.
CHANGE IN THE GEOLOGY OF THE COUNTRY.
As we proceeded down the river, its current became weaker, and its
channel somewhat deeper. Our attention was called to a remarkable
change in the geology of the country, as well as to an apparent
alteration in the natural productions. The cliffs of sand and clay
ceased, and were succeeded by a fossil formation of the most singular
description. At first, it did not exceed a foot in height above the
water, but it gradually rose, like an inclined plane, and resembled in
colour, and in appearance, the skulls of men piled one upon the other.
The constant rippling of the water against the rock had washed out the
softer parts, and made hollows and cavities, that gave the whole
formation the precise appearance of a catacomb. On examination, we
discovered it to be a compact bed of shells, composed of a common
description of marine shell from two to three inches in length,
apparently a species of turritella.
BANKS OF PETRIFIED SHELLS.
At about nine miles from the commencement of this formation, it rose to
the height of more than 150 feet; the country became undulating, and a
partial change took place in its vegetation. We stopped at an early
hour, to examine some cliffs, which rising perpendicularly from the
water, were different in character and substance from any we had as yet
seen. They approached a dirty yellow-ochre in colour, that became
brighter in hue as it rose, and, instead of being perforated, were
compact and hard. The waters of the river had, however, made horizontal
lines upon their fronts, which distinctly marked the rise and fall of
the river, as the strength or depth of the grooves distinctly indicated
the levels it generally kept. It did not appear from these lines, that
the floods ever rose more than four feet above the then level of the
stream, or that they continued for any length of time. On breaking off
pieces of the rock, we ascertained that it was composed of one solid
mass of sea-shells, of various kinds, of which the species first
mentioned formed the lowest part.
It rained a good deal during the night, but the morning turned out
remarkably fine. The day was pleasant, for however inconvenient in some
respects the frequent showers had been, they had cooled the air, and
consequently prevented our feeling the heat so much as we should
otherwise have done, in the close and narrow glen we had now entered.
Among the natives who followed us from the last tribe, there was an old
man, who took an uncommon fancy or attachment to Hopkinson, and who
promised, when we separated, to join us again in the course of the day.
FACE OF THE COUNTRY.
As we proceeded down the river we found that it was confined in a glen,
whose extreme breadth was not more than half-a-mile. The hills that
rose on either side of it were of pretty equal height. The alluvial
flats were extremely small, and the boldest cliffs separated them from
each other. The flats were lightly wooded, and were for the most part
covered with reeds or polygonum. They were not much elevated above the
waters of the river, and had every appearance of being frequently
inundated. At noon we pulled up to dine, upon the left bank, under some
hills, which were from 200 to 250 feet in height. While the men were
preparing our tea, (for we had only that to boil,) M'Leay and I
ascended the hills. The brush was so thick upon them, that we could not
obtain a view of the distant interior. Their summits were covered with
oyster-shells, in such abundance as entirely to preclude the idea of
their having been brought to such a position by the natives. They were
in every stage of petrification.
In the course of the afternoon the old man joined us, and got into the
boat. As far as we could understand from his signs, we were at no great
distance from some remarkable change or other. The river had been
making to the N.W., from the commencement of the fossil formation, and
it appeared as if it was inclined to keep that direction. The old man
pointed to the N.W., and then placed his hand on the side of his head
to indicate, as I understood him, that we should sleep to the N.W. of
where we then were; but his second motion was not so intelligible, for
he pointed due south, as if to indicate that such would be our future
course; and he concluded his information, such as it was, by describing
the roaring of the sea, and the height of the waves. It was evident
this old man had been upon the coast, and we were therefore highly
delighted at the prospect thus held out to us of reaching it.
REMARKABLE CLIFFS.
A little below the hills under which we had stopped, the country again
assumed a level. A line of cliffs, of from two to three hundred feet in
height, flanked the river, first on one side and then on the other,
varying in length from a quarter of a mile to a mile. They rose
perpendicularly from the water, and were of a bright yellow colour,
rendered still more vivid occasionally by the sun shining full upon
them. The summits of these cliffs were as even as if they had been
built by an architect; and from their very edge, the country back from
the stream was of an uniform level, and was partly plain, and partly
clothed by brush. The soil upon this plateau, or table land, was sandy,
and it was as barren and unproductive as the worst of the country we
had passed through. On the other hand, the alluvial flats on the river
increased in size, and were less subject to flood; and the river lost
much of its sandy bed, and its current was greatly diminished in
strength.
NATIVE CHARACTER.
It blew so fresh, during the greater part of the day, from the
westward, that we had great difficulty in pulling against the breeze.
The determined N.W. course the river kept, made me doubt the
correctness of the story of the little old black; yet there was an
openness of manner about him, and a clearness of description, that did
not appear like fabrication. He pointed to the S.S.W. when he left us,
as the direction in which he would again join us, thus confirming,
without any apparent intention, what he had stated with regard to the
southerly course the river was about to take. Among the natives who
were with him, there was another man of very different manners and
appearance. Our friend was small in stature, had piercing grey eyes,
and was as quick as lightning in his movements The other was tall, and
grey headed; anxious, yet unobtrusive; and confident, without the least
mixture of boldness. The study of the human character on many occasions
similar to this, during our intercourse with these people, rude and
uncivilized as they were, was not only pleasing, but instructive. We
found that the individuals of a tribe partook of one general character,
and that the whole of the tribe were either decidedly quiet, or as
decidedly disorderly. The whole of the blacks left us when we started,
but we had not gone very far, when the individual I have described
brought his family, consisting of about fifteen persons. We were going
down a part of the river in which there was a very slight fall. The
natives were posted under some blue-gum trees, upon the right bank, and
there was a broad shoal of sand immediately to our left. They walked
over to this shoal, to receive some little presents, but did not follow
when we continued our journey.
TAKE BEARINGS.
During the whole of the day the river ran to the N.W. We stopped for
the night under some cliffs, similar to those we had already passed,
but somewhat higher. From their summit, mountains were visible to the
N.W., but at a great distance from us. I doubted not that they were at
the head of the southern gulfs; or of one of them, at all events. Our
observations placed us in 34 degrees 08 minutes south of lat., and in
long. 139 degrees 41 minutes 15 seconds; we were consequently nearly
seventy miles from Spencer's Gulf, in a direct line, and I should have
given that as the distance the hills appeared to be from us. They bore
as follows:--
Lofty round mountain, S. 127 degrees W.
Mountain scarcely visible, S. 128 degrees W.
Northern extremity of a broken range, S. 102 degrees W.
Southern extremity scarcely visible, S. 58 degrees W.
The country between the river and these ranges appeared to be very low,
and darkly wooded: that to the N.E. was more open. The summit of the
cliff did not form any table-land, but it dipped almost immediately to
the westward, and the country, although, as I have already remarked, it
was depressed, and undulated.
I walked to some distance from the river, across a valley, and started
several kangaroos; but I was quite alone, and could not, therefore,
secure one of them. Had the dogs been near, we should have had a fine
feast. The soil of the interior still continued sandy, but there was a
kind of short grass mixed with the salsolaceous plants upon it, that
indicated, as I thought, a change for the better in the vegetation; and
the circumstance of there being kangaroos in the valleys to the
westward was also a favourable sign.
FEAST ON A TORTOISE.
Beneath the cliffs hereabouts, the river was extremely broad and deep.
My servant thought it a good place for fishing and accordingly set a
night-line, one end of which he fastened to the bough of a tree. During
the night, being on guard, he saw a small tortoise floating on the
water, so near that he struck it a violent blow with a large stick,
upon which it dived: to his surprise, however, in the morning, he found
that it had taken the bait, and was fast to the line. On examining it,
the shell proved to be cracked, so that the blow must have been a
severe one. It was the largest we had ever seen, and made an excellent
dish. The flesh was beautifully white, nor could anything, especially
under our circumstances, have been more tempting than it was when
cooked; yet M'Leay would not partake of it.
The prevailing wind was, at this time, from the S.W. It blew heavily
all day, but moderated towards the evening.
I was very anxious, at starting on the 3rd, as to the course the river
would take, since it would prove whether the little old man had played
us false or not. From the cliffs under which we had slept, it held a
direct N.W. course for two or three miles. It then turned suddenly to
the S.E., and gradually came round to E.N.E., so that after two hours
pulling, we found ourselves just opposite to the spot from which we had
started, the neck of land that separated the channels not being more
than 200 yards across. I have before noticed a bend similar to this,
which the Murray makes, a little above the junction of the supposed
Darling with it.
CHART OF THE RIVER.
It may appear strange to some of my readers, that I should have laid
down the windings of the river so minutely. It may therefore be
necessary for me to state that every bend of it was laid down by
compass, and that the bearings of the angles as they opened were
regularly marked by me, so that not a single winding or curve of the
Murray is omitted in the large chart. The length of some of the reaches
may be erroneous, but their direction is strictly correct. I always had
a sheet of paper and the compass before me, and not only marked down
the river line, but also the description of country nearest; its most
minute changes, its cliffs, its flats, the kind of country back from
it, its lagoons, the places at which the tribes assembled, its
junctions, tributaries and creeks, together with our several positions,
were all regularly noted, so that on our return up the river we had no
difficulty in ascertaining upon what part of it we were, by a reference
to the chart; and it proved of infinite service to us, since we were
enabled to judge of our distance from our several camps, as we gained
them day by day with the current against us; and we should often have
stopped short of them, weary and exhausted, had we not known that two
or three reaches more would terminate our labour for the day.
REMARKABLE CLIFFS.
From the spot last spoken of, the river held on a due south course for
the remainder of the day; and at the same time changed its character.
It lost its sandy bed and its current together, and became deep, still,
and turbid, with a muddy bottom. It increased considerably in breadth,
and stretched away before us in magnificent reaches of from three to
six miles in length. The cliffs under which we passed towered above us,
like maritime cliffs, and the water dashed against their base like the
waves of the sea. They became brighter and brighter in colour, looking
like dead gold in the sun's rays; and formed an unbroken wall of a mile
or two in length. The natives on their summits showed as small as
crows; and the cockatoos, the eagles, and other birds, were as specks
above us; the former made the valley reverberate with their harsh and
discordant notes. The reader may form some idea of the height of these
cliffs, when informed that the king of the feathered race made them his
sanctuary. They were continuous on both sides of the river, but
retired, more or less, from it, according to the extent of the alluvial
flats. The river held a serpentine course down the valley through which
it passed, striking the precipices alternately on each side.
The soil on the flats was better, and less mixed with sand than it had
been, but the flats were generally covered with reeds, though certainly
not wholly subject to flood at any time. The polygonum still prevailed
upon them in places, and the blue-gum tree alone occupied their
outskirts. From the several elevations we ascended, the country to the
N.W. appeared undulating and well wooded; that to the eastward, seemed
to be brushy and low. Certainly there was a great difference in the
country, both to the eastward and to the westward. We had frequent
views of the mountains we had seen, or, I should have said, of a
continuation of them. They bore nearly west from us at a very great
distance all day.
We fell in with several tribes, but did not see our old friend,
although, from the inquiries we made, it was evident he was well known
among them. It would disgust my readers were I to describe the
miserable state of disease and infirmity to which these tribes were
reduced. Leprosy of the most loathsome description, the most violent
cutaneous eruptions, and glandular affections, absolutely raged through
the whole of them; yet we could not escape from the persecuting
examination of our persons that curiosity prompted them in some measure
to insist upon.
REJOINED BY OUR OLD NATIVE GUIDE.
The old man, whose information had proved strictly correct, joined us
again on the 4th, and his joy at being received into the boat was
unbounded, as well as the pleasure he expressed at again meeting
Hopkinson. He had been on a long journey, it would appear, for he had
not then reached his tribe. As we approached their haunt, he landed and
preceded us to collect them. We were, of course, more than usually
liberal to so old a friend, and we were really sorry to part with him.
Soon after leaving his tribe, which occupied the left bank of the
river, and was very weak in point of numbers, we fell in with a very
strong tribe upon the right bank. They numbered 211 in all. We lay off
the bank, in order to escape their importunities; a measure that by no
means satisfied them. The women appeared to be very prolific; but, as a
race, these people are not to be compared with the natives of the
mountains, or of the upper branches of the Murray.
We passed some beautiful scenery in the course of the day. The river
preserved a direct southerly course, and could not in any place have
been less than 400 yards in breadth. The cliffs still continued, and
varied perpetually in form; at one time presenting a perpendicular wall
to the view, at others, they overhung the stream, in huge fragments.
All were composed of a mass of shells of various kinds; a fact which
will call for further observation and remark.
DELAYED BY STRONG WINDS.
Many circumstances at this time tended to confirm our hopes that the
sea could not be very far from us, or that we should not be long in
gaining it. Some sea-gulls flew over our heads, at which Fraser was
about to shoot, had I not prevented him, for I hailed them as the
messengers of glad tidings, and thought they ill deserved such a fate.
It blew very hard from the S.W., during the whole of the day, and we
found it extremely laborious pulling against the heavy and short sea
that came rolling up the broad and open reaches of the Murray at this
place.
Four of the blacks, from the last tribe, followed us, and slept at the
fires; but they were suspicious and timid, and appeared to be very glad
when morning dawned. Our fires were always so much larger than those
made by themselves, that, they fancied, perhaps, we were going to roast
them. Our dogs, likewise, gave them great uneasiness; for although so
fond of the native brute, they feared ours, from their size. We
generally tied them to the boat, therefore, to prevent a recurrence of
theft, so that they were not altogether useless.
CHAPTER VI.
Improvement in the aspect of the country--Increase of the river--Strong
westerly gales--Chronometer broken--A healthier tribe of
natives--Termination of the Murray in a large lake--Its extent and
environs--Passage across it--Hostile appearance of the
natives--Beautiful scenery--Channel from the lake to the sea at
Encounter Bay--Reach the beach--Large flocks of water fowl--Curious
refraction--State of provisions--Embarrassing situation--Inspection of
the channel to the ocean--Weak condition of the men--Difficulties of
the return.
DELIGHTFUL COUNTRY.
It now appeared that the Murray had taken a permanent southerly course;
indeed, it might strictly be said that it ran away to the south. As we
proceeded down it, the valley expanded to the width of two miles; the
alluvial flats became proportionably larger; and a small lake generally
occupied their centre. They were extensively covered with reeds and
grass, for which reason, notwithstanding that they were little elevated
above the level of the stream, I do not think they are subject to
overflow. Parts of them may be laid under water, but certainly not the
whole. The rains at the head of the Murray, and its tributaries, must
be unusually severe to prolong their effects to this distant region,
and the flats bordering it appear, by successive depositions, to have
only just gained a height above the further influence of the floods.
Should this prove to be the case, the valley may be decidedly laid down
as a most desirable spot, whether we regard the richness of its soil,
its rock formation, its locality, or the extreme facility of water
communication along it. It must not, however, be forgotten or
concealed, that the summits of the cliffs by which the valley is
enclosed, have not a corresponding soil. On the contrary, many of the
productions common to the plains of the interior still existed upon
them, and they were decidedly barren; but as we measured the reaches of
the river, the cliffs ceased, and gave place to undulating hills, that
were very different in appearance from the country we had previously
noted down. It would have been impossible for the most tasteful
individual to have laid out pleasure ground to more advantage, than
Nature had done in planting and disposing the various groups of trees
along the spine, and upon the sides of the elevations that confined the
river, and bounded the low ground that intervened between it and their
base. Still, however, the soil upon these elevations was sandy, and
coarse, but the large oat-grass was abundant upon them, which yielded
pasture at least as good as that in the broken country between
Underaliga and Morumbidgee.
We had now gained a distance of at least sixty miles from that angle of
the Murray at which it reaches its extreme west. The general aspect of
the country to our right was beautiful, and several valleys branched
away into the interior upon that side which had a most promising
appearance, and seemed to abound with kangaroos, as the traces of them
were numerous, and the dogs succeeded in killing one, which, to our
great mortification, we could not find.
While, however, the country to the westward had so much to recommend
it, the hills to our left became extremely bare. It was evident that
the right was the sheltered side of the valley. The few trees on the
opposite side bent over to the N.E., as if under the influence of some
prevailing wind.
ADVERSE GALES.
We experienced at this time a succession of gales from the S.W.,
against which we, on several occasions, found it useless to contend:
the waves on the river being heavy and short; and the boat, driving her
prow into them, sent the spray over us and soon wet us through. Indeed,
it is difficult for the reader to imagine the heavy swell that rolled
up the river, which had increased in breadth to the third of a mile,
and in the length of its reaches to eight or ten. I was satisfied that
we were not only navigating this river at a particularly stormy,
perhaps THE stormy, season; but also, that the influence of the S.W.
wind is felt even as far in the interior as to the supposed Darling; in
consequence of the uniform build of the huts, and the circumstance of
their not only facing the N.E., but also being almost invariably
erected under the lee of some bush.
The weather, under the influence of the wind we experienced, was cool
and pleasant, although the thermometer stood at a medium height of 86
degrees; but we found it very distressing to pull against the heavy
breezes that swept up the valley, and bent the reeds so as almost to
make them kiss the stream.
We communicated on the 6th and 7th with several large tribes of
natives, whose manners were on the whole quiet and inoffensive. They
distinctly informed us, that we were fast approaching the sea, and,
from what I could understand, we were nearer to it than the coast line
of Encounter Bay made us. We had placed sticks to ascertain if there
was any rise or fall of tide, but the troubled state of the river
prevented our experiments from being satisfactory. By selecting a
place, however, that was sheltered from the effects of the wind, we
ascertained that there was an apparent rise of about eight inches.
OBLIGED TO TAKE REPOSE.
It blew a heavy gale during the whole of the 7th; and we laboured in
vain at the oar. The gusts that swept the bosom of the water, and the
swell they caused, turned the boat from her course, and prevented us
from making an inch of way. The men were quite exhausted, and, as they
had conducted themselves so well, and had been so patient, I felt
myself obliged to grant them every indulgence consistent with our
safety. However precarious our situation, it would have been vain, with
our exhausted strength, to have contended against the elements. We,
therefore, pulled in to the left bank of the river, and pitched our
tents on a little rising ground beyond the reeds that lined it.
CHRONOMETER BROKEN.
I had been suffering very much front tooth-ache for the last three or
four days, and this day felt the most violent pain from the wind. I was
not, therefore, sorry to get under even the poor shelter our tents
afforded. M'Leay, observing that I was in considerable pain, undertook
to wind up the chronometer; but, not understanding or knowing the
instrument, he unfortunately broke the spring. I shall not forget the
anxiety he expressed, and the regret he felt on the occasion; nor do I
think M'Leay recovered the shock this unlucky accident gave him for two
or three days, or until the novelty of other scenes drove it from his
recollection.
We landed close to the haunt of a small tribe of natives, who came to
us with the most perfect confidence, and assisted the men in their
occupations. They were cleaner and more healthy than any tribe we had
seen; and were extremely cheerful, although reserved in some respects.
As a mark of more than usual cleanliness, the women had mats of oval
shape, upon which they sat, made, apparently, of rushes. There was a
young girl among them of a most cheerful disposition. She was about
eighteen, was well made, and really pretty. This girl was married to an
elderly man who had broken his leg, which having united in a bent
shape, the limb was almost useless. I really believe the girl thought
we could cure her husband, from her importunate manner to us. I
regretted that I could do nothing for the man, but to show that I was
not inattentive to her entreaties, I gave him a pair of trousers, and
desired Fraser to put them upon him; but the poor fellow cut so awkward
an appearance in them, that his wife became quite distressed, and
Fraser was obliged speedily to disencumber him from them again.
We could not gain any satisfactory information, as to the termination
of the river, from these people. It was evident that some change was at
hand; but what it was we could not ascertain.
APPEARANCE OF SOME APPROACHING CHANGE.
On the morning of the 9th, we left our fair friend and her lame
husband, and proceeded down the river. The wind had moderated, although
it still blew fresh. We ascended every height as we went along, but
could not see any new feature in the country. Our view to the eastward
was very confined; to the westward the interior was low and dark, and
was backed in the distance by lofty ranges, parallel to which we had
been running for some days. The right bank of the valley was
beautifully undulated, but the left was bleak and bare. The valley had
a breadth of from three to four miles, and the flats were more
extensive under the former than under the latter. They were scarcely
two feet above the level of the water, and were densely covered with
reeds. As there was no mark upon the reeds to indicate the height to
which the floods rose, I cannot think that these flats are ever wholly
laid under water; if they are, it cannot be to any depth: at all events
a few small drains would effectually prevent inundation. The soil upon
the hills continued to be much mixed with sand, and the prevailing
trees were cypress and box. Among the minor shrubs and grass, many
common to the east coasts were noticed; and although the bold cliffs
had ceased, the basis of the country still continued of the fossil
formation. At a turn of the stream hereabouts, however, a solitary rock
of coarse red granite rose above the waters, and formed an island in
its centre; but only in this one place was it visible. The rock was
composed principally of quartz and feldspar.
A little below it, we found a large tribe anxiously awaiting our
arrival. They crowded to the margin of the river with great eagerness,
and evinced more surprise at our appearance than any tribe we had seen
during the journey; but we left them very soon, notwithstanding that
they importuned us much to stay.
After pulling a mile or two, we found a clear horizon before us to the
south. The hills still continued upon our left, but we could not see
any elevation over the expanse of reeds to our right. The river
inclined to the left, and swept the base of the hills that still
continued on that side. I consequently landed once more to survey the
country.
TERMINATION OF THE MURRAY IN A LARGE LAKE.
I still retained a strong impression on my mind that some change was at
hand, and on this occasion, I was not disappointed; but the view was
one for which I was not altogether prepared. We had, at length, arrived
at the termination of the Murray. Immediately below me was a beautiful
lake, which appeared to be a fitting reservoir for the noble stream
that had led us to it; and which was now ruffled by the breeze that
swept over it. The ranges were more distinctly visible, stretching from
south to north, and were certainly distant forty miles. They had a
regular unbroken outline; declining gradually to the south, but
terminating abruptly at a lofty mountain northerly. I had no doubt on
my mind of this being the Mount Lofty of Captain Flinders; or that the
range was that immediately to the eastward of St. Vincent's Gulf--Since
the accident to the chronometer, we had not made any westing, so that
we knew our position as nearly as possible. Between us and the ranges a
beautiful promontory shot into the lake, being a continuation of the
right bank of the Murray. Over this promontory the waters stretched to
the base of the ranges, and formed an extensive bay. To the N.W. the
country was exceedingly low, but distant peaks were just visible over
it. To the S.W. a bold headland showed itself; beyond which, to the
westward, there was a clear and open sea visible, through a strait
formed by this headland and a point projecting from the opposite shore.
To the E. and S.E. the country was low, excepting the left shore of the
lake, which was backed by some minor elevations, crowned with
cypresses. Even while gazing on this fine scene, I could not but regret
that the Murray had thus terminated; for I immediately foresaw that, in
all probability, we should be disappointed in finding any practicable
communication between the lake and the ocean, as it was evident that
the former was not much influenced by tides. The wind had again
increased; it still blew fresh from the S.W. and a heavy sea was
rolling direct into the mouth of the river. I hoped, notwithstanding,
that we should have been enabled to make sail, for which reason we
entered the lake about 2 p.m. The natives had kindled a large fire on a
distant point between us and the further headland, and to gain this
point our efforts were now directed. The waves were, however, too
strong, and we were obliged to make for the eastern shore, until such
time as the weather should moderate. We pitched our tents on a low
track of land that stretched away seemingly for many miles directly
behind us to the eastward. It was of the richest soil, being a black
vegetable deposit, and although now high above the influence, the lake
had, it was evident, once formed a part of its bed. The appearance of
the country altogether encouraged M'Leay and myself to walk out, in
order to examine it from some hills a little to the S.E. of the camp.
From them we observed that the flat extended over about fifty miles,
and was bounded by the elevations that continued easterly from the left
bank of the Murray to the north, and by a line of rising-ground to the
south. The whole was lightly wooded, and covered with grass. The season
must have been unusually dry, judging from the general appearance of
the vegetation, and from the circumstance of the lagoons in the
interior being wholly exhausted.
Thirty-three days had now passed over our heads since we left the depot
upon the Morumbidgee, twenty-six of which had been passed upon the
Murray. We had, at length, arrived at the grand reservoir of those
waters whose course and fate had previously been involved in such
obscurity. It remained for us to ascertain whether the extensive sheet
of water upon whose bosom we had embarked, had any practicable
communication with the ocean, and whether the country in the
neighbourhood of the coast corresponded with that immediately behind
our camp, or kept up its sandy and sterile character to the very verge
of the sea. As I have already said, my hopes on the first of these
points were considerably damped, but I could not help anticipating a
favourable change in the latter, since its features had so entirely
changed.
DETAINED BY THE WIND.
The greatest difficulty against which we had at present to contend was
the wind; and I dreaded the exertion it would call for, to make head
against it; for the men were so much reduced that I felt convinced they
were inadequate to any violent or prolonged effort. It still blew fresh
at 8 p.m., but at that time it began to moderate. It may be imagined
that I listened to its subdued gusts with extreme anxiety. It did not
wholly abate until after 2 a.m., when it gradually declined, and about
3 a light breeze sprung up from the N. E.
We had again placed sticks to ascertain with more precision the rise of
tide, and found it to be the same as in the river. In the stillness of
the night too we thought we heard the roaring of the sea, but I was
myself uncertain upon the point, as the wind might have caused the
sound.
From the top of the hill from which we had obtained our first view of
the lake, I observed the waves breaking upon the distant headland, and
enveloping the cliff in spray; so that, independent of the clearness of
the horizon beyond it, I was further led to conclude that there existed
a great expanse of water to the S.W.; and, as that had been the
direction taken by the river, I thought it probable that by steering at
once to the S.W. down the lake, I should hit the outlet. I,
consequently, resolved to gain the southern extremity of the lake, as
that at which it was natural to expect a communication with the ocean
would be found.
GEOLOGICAL FORMATION.
At 4 we had a moderate breeze, and it promised to strengthen; we lost
no time therefore in embarking, and with a flowing sheet stretched over
to the W.S.W., and ran along the promontory formed by the right bank of
the Murray. We passed close under its extreme point at nine. The hills
had gradually declined, and we found the point to be a flat, elevated
about thirty feet above the lake. It was separated from the promontory
by a small channel that was choked up with reeds, so that it is more
than probable that the point is insulated at certain periods; whilst in
its stratification it resembled the first cliffs I have described that
were passed below the Darling. It is a remarkable fact in the geology
of the Murray, that such should be the case; and that the formation at
each extremity of the great bank or bed of fossils should be the same.
Thus far, the waters of the lake had continued sweet; but on filling a
can when we were abreast of this point, it was found that they were
quite unpalatable, to say the least of them. The transition from fresh
to salt water was almost immediate, and it was fortunate we made the
discovery in sufficient time to prevent our losing ground. But, as it
was, we filled our casks, and stood on, without for a moment altering
our course.
PASSAGE ACROSS THE LAKE--ITS SHALLOWNESS.
It is difficult to give a just description of our passage across the
lake. The boisterous weather we had had seemed to have blown over. A
cool and refreshing breeze was carrying us on at between four and five
knots an hour, and the heavens above us were without a cloud. It almost
appeared as if nature had resisted us in order to try our perseverance,
and that she had yielded in pity to our efforts. The men, relieved for
a time from the oar, stretched themselves at their length in the boat,
and commented on the scenery around them, or ventured their opinions as
to that which was before them. Up to this moment their conduct had been
most exemplary; not a murmur had escaped from them, and they filled the
water-casks with the utmost cheerfulness, even whilst tasting the
disagreeable beverage they would most probably have to subsist on for
the next three or four days.
As soon as we had well opened the point, we had a full view of the
splendid bay that, commencing at the western most of the central
points, swept in a beautiful curve under the ranges. No land was
visible to the W.N.W. or to the S.S.W.: in both these quarters the lake
was as open as the ocean. It appeared, therefore, that the land
intermediate was an island. To the north the country was extremely low,
and as we increased our distance from it we lost sight of it
altogether. At noon we were nearly abreast of the eastern headland, or
in the centre of the strait to which I have alluded. At this time there
was an open sea from W.N.W. to N. by E. A meridian altitude gave our
latitude 35 degrees 25 minutes. The land to our left was bold and
precipitous; that to the right was low and wooded; and there was
evidently a considerable space between the shores of the lake and the
base of the ranges. The country to the eastward was hidden from us by
the line of cliffs, beyond which from E.S.E. to W.S.W. there was an
open sea. We had kept the lead going from the first, and I was
surprised at the extreme shallowness of the lake in every part, as we
never had six feet upon the line. Its bottom was one of black mud, and
weeds of enormous length were floating on its surface, detached by the
late gales, and which, from the shallowness of the lake, got constantly
entangled with our rudder.
We tried to land on the eastern point, but found the water too shallow,
and were obliged to try the western shore. In passing close under the
head, we observed several natives upon it, who kindled a large fire as
soon as they saw they were noticed, which was answered from every
point; for, in less than ten minutes afterwards, we counted no fewer
than fourteen different fires, the greater number of which were on the
side of the ranges.
SHORES OF THE LAKE.
As we were standing across from one shore to the other, our attention
was drawn to a most singular object. It started suddenly up, as above
the waters to the south, and strikingly resembled an isolated castle.
Behind it, a dense column of smoke rose into the sky, and the effect
was most remarkable. On a nearer approach, the phantom disappeared and
a clear and open sea again presented itself to our view. The fact was,
that the refractive power upon the coast had elevated the sand-hillocks
above their true position, since we satisfactorily ascertained that
they alone separated the lake from the ocean, and that they alone could
have produced the semblance we noticed. It is a singular fact, that
this very hillock was the one which Capt. Barker ascended whilst
carrying on the survey of the south coast, and immediately previous to
his tragical death.
It was not without difficulty that we succeeded in landing on the
western shore; but we did, at length, succeed, and prepared our
dinners. The shore was low, but above the reach of all floods; the soil
was rich, and superficially sandy. It was covered with high grasses,
and abounded in kangaroos; within the space of a few yards we found
five or six, but they were immediately lost to us and to the dogs in
the luxuriance of the vegetation amidst which they were feeding.
As soon as we had finished our meal, we once more embarked, and stood
along the shore to the S.W., but the lake was so shoal, that I was
every moment apprehensive we should ground. I ran across, therefore, to
the south, towards a low flat that had just appeared above the line of
the horizon, in hope that, in sounding, we should have found the
channel, but there either was none, or else it was so narrow that we
passed over it between the heaves of the lead. At this time, the
western shore was quite distinct, and the scenery was beautiful.
The flat we were approaching was a mud-flat, and, from its appearance,
the tide was certainly at the ebb. We observed some cradles, or wicker
frames, placed far below high water-mark, that were each guarded by two
natives, who threatened us violently as we approached. In running along
the land, the stench from them plainly indicated what they were which
these poor creatures were so anxiously watching.
We steered a S.W. course, towards some low and wooded hills, passing a
rocky island, and found that we had struck the mouth of a channel
running to the W.S.W. It was about half-a-mile wide, was bounded to the
right by some open flat ground, and to the left by a line of hills of
about sixty or seventy feet in elevation, partly open and partly
covered with beefwood.
WARLIKE DEMEANOUR OF THE NATIVES.
Upon the first of these hills, we observed a large body of natives, who
set up the most terrific yells as we approached. They were fully
equipped for battle and, as we neared the shore, came down to meet us
with the most violent threats. I wished much to communicate with them,
and, not without hopes of quieting them, stood right in with the
intention of landing. I observed, however, that if I did so, I should
have to protect myself. I hauled a little off, and endeavoured, by
holding up a branch and a tomahawk, to gain their confidence, but they
were not to be won over by my show of pacification. An elderly man
walked close to the water's edge unarmed, and, evidently, directed the
others. He was followed by seven or eight of the most daring, who crept
into the reeds, with their spears shipped to throw at us. I, therefore,
took up my gun to return their salute. It then appeared that they were
perfectly aware of the weapon I carried, for the moment they saw it,
they dashed out of their hiding place and retreated to the main body;
but the old man, after saying something to them, walked steadily on,
and I, on my part, laid my firelock down again.
LOVELY EVENING.
It was now near sunset; and one of the most lovely evenings I had ever
seen. The sun's radiance was yet upon the mountains, but all lower
objects were in shade. The banks of the channel, with the trees and the
rocks, were reflected in the tranquil waters, whose surface was
unruffled save by the thousands of wild fowl that rose before us, and
made a noise as of a multitude clapping hands, in their clumsy efforts
to rise from the waters. Not one of them allowed us to get within shot.
We proceeded about a mile below the hill on which the natives were
posted; some few still following us with violent threats. We landed,
however, on a flat, bounded all round by the continuation of the hills.
It was an admirable position, for, in the centre of it, we could not be
taken by surprise, and, on the other hand, we gave the natives an
opportunity of communicating with us if they would. The full moon rose
as we were forming the camp, and, notwithstanding our vicinity to so
noisy a host, the silence of death was around us, or the stillness of
the night was only broken by the roar of the ocean, now too near to be
mistaken for wind, or by the silvery and melancholy note of the black
swans as they passed over us, to seek for food, no doubt, among the
slimy weeds at the head of the lake. We had been quite delighted with
the beauty of the channel, which was rather more than half-a-mile in
width. Numberless mounds, that seemed to invite civilised man to erect
his dwelling upon them, presented themselves to our view. The country
round them was open, yet ornamentally wooded, and rocks and trees hung
or drooped over the waters.
EXTENT OF THE LAKE.
We had in one day gained a position I once feared it would have cost us
infinite labour to have measured. Indeed, had we been obliged to pull
across the lake, unless during a calm, I am convinced the men would
have been wholly exhausted. We had to thank a kind Providence that such
was not the case, since it had extended its mercy to us at so critical
a moment. We had indeed need of all the little strength we had
remaining, and could ill have thrown it away on such an effort as this
would have required. I calculated that we could not have run less than
forty-five miles during the day, a distance that, together with the
eight miles we had advanced the evening previously, would give the
length of the lake at fifty-three miles.
We had approached to within twelve miles of the ranges, but had not
gained their southern extremity. From the camp, Mount Barker bore
nearly north. The ranges appeared to run north and south to our
position, and then to bend away to the S.S.W., gradually declining to
that point, which I doubted not terminated in Cape Jervis. The natives
kept aloof during the night, nor did the dogs by a single growl
intimate that any had ventured to approach us. The sound of the surf
came gratefully to our ears, for it told us we were near the goal for
which we had so anxiously pushed, and we all of us promised ourselves a
view of the boundless ocean on the morrow.
CHANNEL TO THE SEA--ITS SHALLOWNESS.
As the morning dawned, we saw that the natives had thrown an out-post
of sixteen men across the channel, who were watching our motions; but
none showed themselves on the hills behind us, or on any part of the
south shore. We embarked as soon as we had breakfasted, A fresh breeze
was blowing from the N.E. which took us rapidly down the channel, and
our prospects appeared to be as cheering as the day, for just as we
were about to push from the shore, a seal rose close to the boat, which
we all regarded as a favourable omen. We were, however, shortly stopped
by shoals; it was in vain that we beat across the channel from one side
to the other; it was a continued shoal, and the deepest water appeared
to be under the left bank. The tide, however, had fallen, and exposed
broad flats, over which it was hopeless, under existing circumstances,
to haul the boat. We again landed on the south side of the channel,
patiently to await the high water.
M'Leay, myself, and Fraser, ascended the hills, and went to the
opposite side to ascertain the course of the channel, for immediately
above us it turned south round the hills. We there found that we were
on a narrow tongue of land. The channel was immediately below us, and
continued to the E.S.E. as far as we could trace it. The hills we were
upon, were the sandy hills that always bound a coast that is low, and
were covered with banksias, casuarina and the grass-tree.
To the south of the channel there was a flat, backed by a range of
sand-hummocks, that were covered with low shrubs; and beyond them the
sea was distinctly visible. We could not have been more than two and a
half miles from the beach where we stood.
Notwithstanding the sandy nature of the soil, the fossil formation
again showed itself, not only on these hills, but also on the rocks
that were in the channel.
A little before high water we again embarked. A seal had been observed
playing about, and we augured well from such an omen. The blacks had
been watching us from the opposite shore, and as soon as we moved, rose
to keep abreast of us. With all our efforts we could not avoid the
shoals. We walked up to our knees in mud and water, to find the least
variation in the depth of the water so as to facilitate our exertions,
but it was to no purpose. We were ultimately obliged to drag the boat
over the flats; there were some of them a quarter of a mile in breadth,
knee-deep in mud; but at length got her into deep water again. The turn
of the channel was now before us, and we had a good run for about four
or five miles. We had completed the bend, and the channel now stretched
to the E.S.E. At about nine miles from us there was a bright sand-hill
visible, near which the channel seemed to turn again to the south; and
I doubted not that it terminated there. It was to no purpose, however,
that we tried to gain it. Shoals again closed in upon us on every side.
We dragged the boat over several, and at last got amongst quicksands.
I, therefore, directed our efforts to hauling the boat over to the
south side of the channel, as that on which we could most
satisfactorily ascertain our position. After great labour we succeeded,
and, as evening had closed in, lost no time in pitching the tents.
BEACH OF ENCOUNTER BAY.
While the men were thus employed, I took Fraser with me, and,
accompanied by M'Leay, crossed the sand-hummocks behind us, and
descended to the sea-shore. I found that we had struck the south coast
deep in the bight of Encounter Bay. We had no time for examination, but
returned immediately to the camp, as I intended to give the men an
opportunity to go to the beach. They accordingly went and bathed, and
returned not only highly delighted at this little act of good nature on
my part, but loaded with cockles, a bed of which they had managed to
find among the sand. Clayton had tied one end of his shirt up, and
brought a bag full, and amused himself with boiling cockles all night
long.
If I had previously any hopes of being enabled ultimately to push the
boat over the flats that were before us, a view of the channel at low
water, convinced me of the impracticability of any further attempt. The
water was so low that every shoal was exposed, and many stretched
directly from one side of the channel to the other; and, but for the
treacherous nature of the sand-banks, it would not have been difficult
to have walked over dry footed to the opposite side of it. The channel
stretched away to the E.S.E., to a distance of seven or eight miles,
when it appeared to turn south under a small sand-hill, upon which the
rays of the sun fell, as it was sinking behind us.
CURIOUS EFFECT OF REFRACTION.
There was an innumerable flock of wild-fowl arranged in rows along the
sides of the pools left by the tide, and we were again amused by the
singular effect of the refraction upon them, and the grotesque and
distorted forms they exhibited. Swans, pelicans, ducks, and geese, were
mingled together, and, according to their distance from us, presented
different appearances. Some were exceedingly tall and thin, others were
unnaturally broad. Some appeared reversed, or as if they were standing
on their heads, and the slightest motion, particularly the flapping of
their wings, produced a most ridiculous effect. No doubt, the situation
and the state of the atmosphere were favourable to the effect I have
described. The day had been fine, the evening was beautiful,--but it
was the rarefaction of the air immediately playing on the ground, and
not the haze at sunset that caused what I have noticed. It is distinct
from mirage, although it is difficult to point out the difference. The
one, however, distorts, the other conceals objects, and gives them a
false distance. The one is clear, the other is cloudy. The one raises
objects above their true position, the other does not. The one plays
about, the other is steady; but I cannot hope to give a proper idea
either of mirage or refraction so satisfactorily as I could wish. Many
travellers have dwelt upon their effects, particularly upon those of
the former, but few have attempted to account for them.
Our situation was one of peculiar excitement and interest. To our right
the thunder of the heavy surf, that almost shook the ground beneath us,
broke with increasing roar upon our ears; to our left the voice of the
natives echoed through the brush, and the size of their fires at the
extremity of the channel, seemed to indicate the alarm our appearance
had occasioned.
CRITICAL SITUATION OF THE PARTY.
While the men were enjoying their cockles, a large kettle of which they
had boiled, M'Leay and I were anxiously employed in examining the state
of our provisions, and in ascertaining what still remained. Flour and
tea were the only articles we had left, so that the task was not a
difficult one. It appeared that we had not sufficient of either to last
us to Pondebadgery, at which place we expected to find supplies; and,
taking every thing into consideration, our circumstances were really
critical.
The first view of Encounter Bay had convinced me that no vessel would
ever venture into it at a season when the S.W. winds prevailed. It was
impossible that we could remain upon the coast in expectation of the
relief that I doubted not had been hurried off for us; since
disappointment would have sealed our fate at once. In the deep bight in
which we were, I could not hope that any vessel would approach
sufficiently near to be seen by us. Our only chance of attracting
notice would have been by crossing the Ranges to the Gulf St. Vincent,
but the men had not strength to walk, and I hesitated to divide my
party in the presence of a determined and numerous enemy, who closely
watched our motions. Setting aside the generous feelings that had
prompted M'Leay to participate in every danger with me, and who I am
persuaded would have deeply felt a separation, my anxiety not only on
his account, but on account of the men I might leave in charge of the
boat, made me averse to this measure; the chance of any misfortune to
them involving in it the destruction of our boat and the loss of our
provisions. My anxiety of mind would have rendered me unfit for
exertion; yet so desirous was I of examining the ranges and the country
at their base, that I should, had our passage to the salt water been
uninterrupted, have determined on coasting it homewards, or of steering
for Launceston; and most assuredly, with my present experience, I would
rather incur the hazards of so desperate a step, than contend against
all the evils that beset us on out homeward journey. And the reader may
rest assured, I was as much without hopes of our eventual safety, as I
was astonished, at the close of our labours, to find that they had
terminated so happily.
INSPECTION OF THE CHANNEL FROM THE LAKE TO THE OCEAN.
Further exertion on the part of the men being out of the question, I
determined to remain no longer on the coast than to enable me to trace
the channel to its actual junction with the sea, and to ascertain the
features of the coast at that important point. I was reluctant to
exhaust the strength of the men in dragging the boat over the
numberless flats that were before us, and made up my mind to walk along
the shore until I should gain the outlet. I at length arranged that
M'Leay, I, and Fraser, should start on this excursion, at the earliest
dawn, leaving Harris and Hopkinson in charge of the camp; for as we
were to go towards the position of the natives, I thought it improbable
they would attack the camp without my being instantly aware of it.
We had, as I have said, intended starting at the earliest dawn, but the
night was so clear and refreshing, and the moon so bright that we
determined to avail ourselves of both, and accordingly left the tents
at 3 a.m. I directed Harris to strike them at 8, and to have every
thing in readiness for our departure at that hour. We then commenced
our excursion, and I led my companions rapidly along the shore of
Encounter Bay, after crossing the sand-hills about a mile below the
camp. After a hasty and distressing walk of about seven miles, we found
that the sand-hills terminated, and a low beach spread before us. The
day was just breaking, and at the distance of a mile from us we saw the
sand-hill I have already had occasion to notice, and at about a quarter
of a mile from its base, we were checked by the channel; which, as I
rightly conjectured, being stopped in its easterly course by some
rising ground, the tongue of land on which the blacks were posted,
suddenly turns south, and, striking this sand-hill, immediately enters
the sea; and we noticed, in the bight under the rising ground, that the
natives had lit a chain of small fires. This was, most probably, a
detached party watching our movements, as they could, from where they
were posted, see our camp.
At the time we arrived at the end of the channel, the tide had turned,
and was again setting in. The entrance appeared to me to be somewhat
less than a quarter of a mile in breadth. Under the sand-hill on the
off side, the water is deep and the current strong. No doubt, at high
tide, a part of the low beach we had traversed is covered. The mouth of
the channel is defended by a double line of breakers, amidst which, it
would be dangerous to venture, except in calm and summer weather; and
the line of foam is unbroken from one end of Encounter Bay to the
other. Thus were our fears of the impracticability and inutility of the
channel of communication between the lake and the ocean confirmed.
DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS OF THE RETURN.
I would fain have lingered on my way, to examine, as far as
circumstances would permit, the beautiful country between the lake and
the ranges; and it was with heart-felt sorrow that I yielded to
necessity. My men were indeed very weak from poverty of diet and from
great bodily fatigue. Hopkinson, Mulholland, and Macnamee were
miserably reduced. The two former, especially, had exerted themselves
beyond their strength, and although I am confident they would have
obeyed my orders to the last, I did not feel myself justified,
considering the gigantic task we had before us, to impose additional
labour upon them.
It will be borne in mind that our difficulties were just about to
commence, when those of most other travellers have ceased; and that
instead of being assisted by the stream whose course we had followed,
we had now to contend against the united waters of the eastern ranges,
with diminished strength, and, in some measure, with disappointed
feelings.
Under the most favourable circumstances, it was improbable that the men
would be enabled to pull for many days longer in succession; since they
had not rested upon their oars for a single day, if I except our
passage across the lake, from the moment when we started from the
depot; nor was it possible for me to buoy them up with the hope even of
a momentary cessation from labour. We had calculated the time to which
our supply of provisions would last under the most favourable
circumstances, and it was only in the event of our pulling up against
the current, day after day, the same distance we had compassed with the
current in our favour, that we could hope they would last us as long as
we continued in the Murray. But in the event of floods, or any
unforeseen delay, in was impossible to calculate at what moment we
might be driven to extremity.
Independent of these casualties, there were other circumstances of
peril to be taken into consideration. As I have already observed, I
foresaw great danger in again running through the natives. I had every
reason to believe that many of the tribes with which we had
communicated on apparently friendly terms, regretted having allowed us
to pass unmolested; nor was I at all satisfied as to the treatment we
might receive from them, when unattended by the envoys who had once or
twice controlled their fury. Our best security, therefore, against the
attacks of the natives was celerity of movement; and the men themselves
seemed to be perfectly aware of the consequences of delay. Our
provisions, moreover, being calculated to last to a certain point only,
the slightest accident, the staving-in of the boat, or the rise of the
river, would inevitably be attended with calamity. To think of reducing
our rations of only three quarters of a pound of flour per diem, was
out of the question, or to hope that the men, with less sustenance than
that, would perform the work necessary to ensure their safety, would
have been unreasonable. It was better that our provisions should hold
out to a place from which we might abandon the boat with some prospect
of reaching by an effort a stock station, or the plain on which Robert
Harris was to await our return, than that they should be consumed
before the half of our homeward journey should be accomplished. Delay,
therefore, under our circumstances, would have been imprudent and
unjustifiable.
PATIENCE OF THE MEN--RE-ENTER THE MURRAY.
On the other hand, it was sufficiently evident to me, that the men were
too much exhausted to perform the task that was before them without
assistance, and that it would be necessary both for M'Leay and myself,
to take our share of labour at the oars. The cheerfulness and
satisfaction that my young friend evinced at the opportunity that was
thus afforded him of making himself useful, and of relieving those
under him from some portion of their toil, at the same time that they
increased my sincere esteem for him, were nothing more than what I
expected from one who had endeavoured by every means in his power to
contribute to the success of that enterprise upon which he had
embarked. But although I have said thus much of the exhausted
condition of the men,--and ere these pages are concluded my readers
will feel satisfied as to the truth of my statement--I would by no
means be understood to say that they flagged for a moment, or that
a single murmur escaped them. No reluctance was visible, no complaint
was heard, but there was that in their aspect and appearance which
they could not hide, and which I could not mistake. My object in
dwelling so long upon this subject has been to point out our situation
and our feelings when we re-entered the Murray. The only circumstance
that appeared to be in our favour was the prevalence of the south-west
wind, by which I hoped we should be assisted in running up the first
broad reaches of that river. I could not but acknowledge the bounty
of that Providence, which had favoured us in our passage across
the lake, and I was led to hope that its merciful superintendance
would protect us from evil, and would silently direct us where human
foresight and prudence failed. We re-entered the river on the 13th
under as fair prospects as we would have desired. The gale which had
blown with such violence in the morning gradually abated, and a steady
breeze enabled us to pass our first encampment by availing ourselves
of it as long as day light continued. Both the valley and the river
showed to advantage as we approached them, and the scenery upon our
left (the proper right bank of the Murray) was really beautiful.
CHAPTER VII.
Valley of the Murray--Its character and capabilities--Laborious
progress up the river--Accident to the boat--Perilous collision with
the natives--Turbid current of the Rufus--Passage of the
Rapids--Assisted by the natives--Dangerous intercourse with
them--Re-enter the Morumbidgee--Verdant condition of its
banks--Nocturnal encounter with the natives--Interesting manifestation
of feeling in one family--Reach the spot where the party had embarked
on the river--Men begin to fail entirely--Determine to send two men
forward for relief--Their return--Excursion on horseback--Reach
Pondebadgery Plain, and meet the supplies from the colony--Cannibalism
of the natives--Return to Sydney--Concluding remarks.
VALLEY OF THE MURRAY.
The valley of the Murray, at its entrance, cannot be less than four
miles in breadth. The river does not occupy the centre but inclines to
either side, according to its windings, and thus the flats are of
greater or less extent, according to the distance of the river from the
base of the hills. It is to be remarked, that the bottom of the valley
is extremely level, and extensively covered with reeds. From the latter
circumstance, one would be led to infer that these flats are subject to
overflow, and no doubt can exist as to the fact of their being, at
least partially, if not wholly, under water at times. A country in a
state of nature is, however, so different from one in a state of
cultivation, that it is hazardous to give an opinion as to its
practical availableness, if I may use such a term. I should,
undoubtedly, say the marshes of the Macquarie were frequently covered
with water, and that they were wholly unfit for any one purpose
whatever. It is evident from the marks of the reeds upon the banks,
that the flood covers them occasionally to the depth of three feet, and
the reeds are so densely embodied and so close to the river side that
the natives cannot walk along it. The reeds are the broad flag-reed
(arundo phragmatis), and grow on a stiff earthy loam, without any
accompanying vegetation; indeed, they form so solid a mass that the sun
cannot penetrate to the ground to nourish vegetation. On the other
hand, the valley of the Murray, though covered with reeds in most
places, is not so in all. There is no mark upon the reeds by which to
judge as to the height of inundation, neither are they of the same kind
as those which cover the marshes of the Macquarie. They are the species
of round reed of which the South-sea islanders make their arrows, and
stand sufficiently open, not only to allow of a passage through, but
for the abundant growth of grass among them. Still, I have no doubt
that parts of the valley are subject to flood; but, as I have already
remarked, I do not know whether these parts are either deeply or
frequently covered. Rain must fall simultaneously in the S.E. angle of
the island in the inter-tropical regions, and at the heads of all the
tributaries of the main stream, ere its effects can be felt in the
lower parts of the Murray. If the valley of the Murray is not subject
to flood, it has only recently gained a height above the influence of
the river, and still retains all the character of flooded land. In
either case, however, it contains land that is of the very richest
kind--soil that is the pure accumulation of vegetable matter, and is as
black as ebony. If its hundreds of thousands of acres were practically
available, I should not hesitate to pronounce it one of the richest
spots of equal extent on earth, and highly favoured in other respects.
How far it is available remains to be proved; and an opinion upon
either side would be hazardous, although that of its liability to flood
would, most probably, be nearest to truth. It is, however, certain that
any part of the valley would require much labour before it could be
brought under cultivation, and that even its most available spots would
require almost as much trouble to clear them as the forest tract, for
nothing is more difficult to destroy than reeds. Breaking the sod
would, naturally, raise the level of the ground, and lateral drains
would, most probably, carry off all floods, but then the latter, at
least, is the operation of an advanced stage of husbandry only. I
would, however, observe that there are many parts of the valley
decidedly above the reach of flood. I have, in the above observations,
been particularly alluding to the lowest and broadest portions of it. I
trust I shall be understood as not wishing to over-rate this discovery
on the one hand, or on the other, to include its whole extent in one
sweeping clause of condemnation.
On the 14th, the wind still continued to blow fresh from the N.W. It
moderated at noon, and assisted us beyond measure. We passed our first
encampment, but did not see any natives.
CORDIALITY OF THE NATIVES.
On the 15th, the wind was variable at daylight, and a dense fog was on
the river. As the sun rose, it was dissipated and a light breeze sprung
up from W.S.W. We ran up the stream with a free sheet for six hours,
when we stopped for a short time to get the kettle boiled. Four natives
joined us, but with the exception of the lowest tribe upon the right
bank, we had not seen any number. We were extremely liberal to this
tribe, in consequence of the satisfaction they evinced at our return.
We had alarmed them much on our passage down the river by firing at a
snake that was swimming across it. We, at first, attempted to kill it
with the boat-hook, but the animal dived at our approach, and appeared
again at a considerable distance. Another such dive would have ensured
his escape, but a shot effectually checked him, and as the natives
evinced considerable alarm, we held him up, to show them the object of
our proceedings. On our return, they seemed to have forgotten their
fright, and received us with every demonstration of joy. The different
receptions we met with from different tribes are difficult to be
accounted for.
The country appeared to rise before us, and looked more hilly to the
N.W. than I had supposed it to be. Several fine valleys branched off
from the main one to the westward, and, however barren the heights that
confined them were, I am inclined to think, that the distant interior
is fertile. The marks of kangaroos were numerous, and the absence of
the natives would indicate that they have other and better means of
subsisting in the back country than what the river affords.
In the evening, we again ran on for two hours and a half, and reached
the first of the cliffs.
On the 16th, we were again fortunate in the wind, and pressed up the
river as long as day-light continued. At the termination of our
journey, we found ourselves a day's journey in advance. This inspirited
the men, and they began to forget the labours they had gone through, as
well as those that were before them.
On the 17th, we again commenced pulling, the wind being at north, and
contrary. It did not, however, remain in that quarter long, but backed
at noon to the S.W., so that we were enabled to make a good day's
journey, and rather gained than lost ground.
REMARKABLE CLIFF--GEOLOGICAL REMARKS.
Having left the undulating hills, at the mouth of the valley behind us,
we passed cliff after cliff of fossil formation: they had a uniform
appearance as to the substance of which they were composed, and varied
but little in colour. Having already examined them, we thought it
unnecessary to give them any further special attention, since it was
improbable we should find anything new. In turning an angle of the
river, however, a broad reach stretched away before us. An alluvial
flat extended to our left, and a high line of cliffs, that differed in
no visible respect from those we had already passed, rose over the
opposite side of the river. The cliffs faced the W.N.W., and as the sun
declined, his beams struck full upon them. As we shot past, we were
quite dazzled with the burst of light that flashed upon us, and which
gave to the whole face of the cliff the appearance of a splendid
mirror. The effect was of course momentary; for as soon as we had
passed the angle of refraction, there was nothing unusual in its
appearance. On a nearer approach, however, it appeared again as if
studded with stars. We had already determined on examining it more
closely, and this second peculiarity still further excited our
curiosity. On landing, we found the whole cliff to be a mass of
selenite, in which the various shells already noticed were plentifully
embedded, as in ice. The features of the cliff differed from any we had
previously remarked. Large masses, or blocks of square or oblong shape,
had fallen to its base, and its surface was hard, whereas the face of
the majority of the other cliffs was soft from the effect of the
atmosphere; and the rock was entirely free from every other substance,
excepting the shells of which it was composed. We of course collected
some good specimens, although they added very considerably to the
weight of our cargo.
The morning of the 18th was calm and cloudless. The wind, of which
there was but little, came from the north, and was as usual warm. We
availed ourselves of a favourable spot to haul our boat on shore under
one of the cliffs upon the proper left of the river, and cleaned her
well both inside and out.
LABORIOUS ASCENT OF THE BOAT.
The breezes that had so much assisted as from the lake upwards, had now
lost their influence, or failed to reach to the distance we had gained.
Calms succeeded them, and obliged us to labour continually at the oars.
We lost ground fast, and it was astonishing to remark how soon the
men's spirits drooped again under their first efforts. They fancied the
boat pulled heavily, and that her bottom was foul; but such was not the
case. The current was not so strong as when we passed down, since the
river had evidently fallen more than a foot, and was so shallow in
several places, that we were obliged to haul the boat over them. On
these occasions we were necessarily obliged to get out of her into the
water, and had afterwards to sit still and to allow the sun to dry our
clothes upon us. The unemployed consequently envied those at the oars,
as they sat shivering in their dripping clothes. I was aware that it
was more from imagination than reality, that the men fancied the boat
was unusually heavy, but I hesitated not in humouring them, and rather
entered into their ideas than otherwise, and endeavoured to persuade
them that she pulled the lighter for the cleaning we gave her.
A tribe of natives joined us, and we had the additional trouble of
guarding our stores. They were, however, very quiet, and as we had
broken up our casks, on leaving the coast, we were enabled to be
liberal in our presents of iron hoop, which they eagerly received. We
calculated that we should reach the principal junction in about fifteen
days from this place.
NATIVE BURIAL-PLACE.
The natives left us to pursue our solitary journey as soon as the boat
was reloaded. Not one of them had the curiosity to follow us, nor did
they appear to think it necessary that we should be attended by envoys.
We stopped for the night upon the left bank; and close to a
burial-ground that differed from any I had ever seen. It must have been
used many years, from the number of bones that were found in the bank,
but there were no other indications of such a place either by mounds or
by marks on the trees. The fact, therefore, is a singular one. I have
thought that some battle might have been fought near the place, but I
can hardly think one of their battles could have been so destructive.
IMPEDED BY SHOALS.
We had now only to make the best of our journey, rising at dawn, and
pulling to seven and often to nine o'clock. I allowed the men an hour
from half-past eleven to half-past twelve, to take their bread and
water. This was our only fare, if I except an occasional wild duck; but
these birds were extremely difficult to kill, and it cost us so much
time, that we seldom endeavoured to procure any. Our dogs had been of
no great use, and were now too weak to have run after anything if they
had seen either kangaroos or emus; and for the fish, the men loathed
them, and were either too indifferent or too much fatigued to set the
night-lines. Shoals frequently impeded us as we proceeded up the river,
and we passed some rapids that called for our whole strength to stem. A
light wind assisted us on two or three of these occasions, and I never
failed hoisting the sail at every fitting opportunity. In some parts
the river was extremely shallow, and the sand-banks of amazing size;
and the annoyance of dragging the boat over these occasional bars, was
very great. We passed several tribes of blacks on the 19th and 20th;
but did not stop to communicate with them.
I believe I have already mentioned that shortly after we first entered
the Murray, flocks of a new paroquet passed over our heads, apparently
emigrating to the N.W. They always kept too high to be fired at, but on
our return, hereabouts, we succeeded in killing one. It made a good
addition to our scanty stock of subjects of natural history. It is
impossible to conceive how few of the feathered tribe frequent these
distant and lonely regions. The common white cockatoo is the most
numerous, and there are also a few pigeons; but other birds descend
only for water, and are soon again upon the wing. Our botanical
specimens were as scanty as our zoological, indeed the expedition may,
as regards these two particulars, almost be said to have been
unproductive.
COMPILATION OF THE CHART.
When we came down the river, I thought it advisable to lay its course
down as precisely as circumstances would permit: for for this purpose I
had a large compass always before me, and a sheet of foolscap paper. As
soon as we passed an angle of the river, I took the bearings of the
reach before us, and as we proceeded down it, marked off the
description of country, and any remarkable feature. The consequence
was, that I laid down every bend of the Murray River, from the
Morumbidgee downwards. Its creeks, its tributaries, its flats, its
valleys, and its cliffs, and, as far as I possibly could do, the nature
of the distant interior. This chart was, of course, erroneous in many
particulars, since I had to judge the length of the reaches of the
river, and the extent of its angles, but I corrected it on the scale of
the miles of latitude we made during the day, which brought out an
approximate truth at all events. The hurried nature of our journey
would not allow me to do more; and it will be remembered that my
observations were all siderial, by reason that the sextant would not
embrace the sun in his almost vertical position at noon. Admitting,
however, the imperfection of this chart, it was of inconceivable value
and comfort to us on our return, for, by a reference to it, we
discovered our place upon the river, and our distance from our several
encampments. And we should often have stopped short of them had not the
chart shown us that a few reaches more would bring us to the desired
spots. It cheered the men to know where they were, and gave them
conversation. To myself it was very satisfactory, as it enabled me to
prepare for our meetings with the larger tribes, and to steer clear of
obstacles in the more difficult navigation of some parts of the stream.
On the 21st, by dint of great labour we reached our camp of the 2nd
February, from which it will be remembered the Murray took up a
southerly course, and from which we likewise obtained a first view of
the coast ranges. The journey to the sea and back again, had
consequently occupied us twenty days. From this point we turned our
boat's head homewards; we made it, therefore, a fixed position among
the stages into which we divided our journey. Our attention was now
directed to the junction of the principal tributary, which we hoped to
reach in twelve days, and anticipated a close to our labours on the
Murray in eight days more from that stage to the Morumbidgee.
CURRENT OF THE MURRAY.
The current in the Murray from the lake, to within a short distance of
this singular turn in it, is weak, since its bed is almost on a level
with the lake. The channel, which, at the termination, is somewhat more
than the third of a mile across, gradually diminishes in breadth, as
the interior is gained, but is nowhere under 300 yards; while its depth
averages from eighteen to thirty feet, within a foot of the very bank.
The river might, therefore, be navigated by boats of considerable
burden, if the lake admitted of the same facility; but I am decidedly
of opinion, that the latter is generally shallow, and that it will, in
the course of years, be filled up by depositions. It is not, however,
an estuary in any sense of the word, since no part of it is exposed at
low water, excepting the flats in the channel, and the flat between the
lake and the sea.
ACCIDENT TO THE BOAT.
On the 23rd, we stove the boat in for the first time. I had all along
anticipated such an accident, from the difficulty of avoiding
obstacles, in consequence of the turbid state of the river. Fortunately
the boat struck a rotten log. The piece remained in her side, and
prevented her filling, which she must, otherwise, inevitably have done,
ere we could have reached the shore. As it was, however, we escaped
with a little damage to the lower bags of flour only. She was hauled up
on a sand bank, and Clayton repaired her in less than two hours, when
we reloaded her and pursued our journey. It was impossible to have been
more cautious than we were, for I was satisfied as to the fate that
would have overtaken the whole of us in the event of our losing the
boat, and was proportionably vigilant.
MOLESTED BY THE NATIVES.
At half-past five we came to an island, which looked so inviting, and
so quiet, that I determined to land and sleep upon it. We consequently,
ran the boat into a little recess, or bay, and pitched the tents; and I
anticipated a respite from the presence of any natives, as did the men,
who were rejoiced at my having taken up so snug a berth. It happened,
however, that a little after sunset, a flight of the new paroquets
perched in the lofty trees that grew on the island, to roost; when we
immediately commenced the work of death, and succeeded in killing eight
or ten. The reports of our guns were heard by some natives up the
river, and several came over to us. Although I was annoyed at their
having discovered our retreat, they were too few to be troublesome.
During the night, however, they were joined by fresh numbers, amounting
in all to about eighty, and they were so clamorous, that it was
impossible to sleep.
NATIVES BECOME TROUBLESOME.
As the morning broke, Hopkinson came to inform me that it was in vain
that the guard endeavoured to prevent them from handling every thing,
and from closing in round our camp. I went out, and from what I saw I
thought it advisable to double the sentries. M'Leay, who was really
tired, being unable to close his eyes amid such a din, got up in
ill-humour, and went to see into the cause, and to check it if he
could. This, however, was impossible. One man was particularly forward
and insolent, at whom M'Leay, rather imprudently, threw a piece of
dirt. The savage returned the compliment with as much good will as it
had been given, and appeared quite prepared to act on the offensive. At
this critical moment my servant came to the tent in which I was washing
myself, and stated his fears that we should soon come to blows, as the
natives showed every disposition to resist us. On learning what had
passed between M'Leay and the savage, I pretended to be equally angry
with both, and with some difficulty forced the greater part of the
blacks away from the tents. I then directed the men to gather together
all the minor articles in the first instance, and then to strike the
tents; and, in order to check the natives, I drew a line round the
camp, over which I intimated to them they should not pass. Observing, I
suppose, that we were on our guard, and that I, whom they well knew to
be the chief, was really angry, they crept away one by one, until the
island was almost deserted by them. Why they did not attack us, I know
not, for they had certainly every disposition to do so, and had their
shorter weapons with them, which, in so confined a space as that on
which we were, would have been more fatal than their spears.
They left us, however; and a flight of red-crested cockatoos happening
to settle on a plain near the river, I crossed in the boat in order to
shoot one. The plain was upon the proper left bank of the Murray. The
natives had passed over to the right. As the one channel was too
shallow for the boat, when we again pursued our journey we were obliged
to pull round to the left side of the island. A little above it the
river makes a bend to the left, and the angle at this bend was occupied
by a large shoal, one point of which rested on the upper part of the
island, and the other touched the proper right bank of the river. Thus
a narrow channel, (not broader indeed than was necessary for the play
of our oars,) alone remained for us to pass up against a strong
current. On turning round the lower part of the island, we observed
that the natives occupied the whole extent of the shoal, and speckled
it over like skirmishers. Many of them had their spears, and their
attention was evidently directed to us.--As we neared the shoal, the
most forward of them pressed close to the edge of the deep water, so
much so that our oars struck their legs. Still this did not induce them
to retire. I kept my eye on an elderly man who stood one of the most
forward, and who motioned to us several times to stop, and at length
threw the weapon he carried at the boat. I immediately jumped up and
pointed my gun at him to his great apparent alarm. Whether the natives
hoped to intimidate us by a show of numbers, or what immediate object
they had in view, it is difficult to say; though it was most probably
to seize a fitting opportunity to attack us. Seeing, I suppose, that we
were not to be checked, they crossed from the shoal to the proper right
bank of the river, and disappeared among the reeds that lined it.
TREACHERY OF THE NATIVES.
Shortly after this, eight of the women, whom we had not before noticed,
came down to the water side, and gave us the most pressing invitation
to land. Indeed they played their part uncommonly well, and tried for
some time to allure us by the most unequivocal manifestations of love.
Hopkinson however who always had his eyes about him, observed the
spears of the men among the reeds. They kept abreast of us as we pulled
up the stream, and, no doubt, were anticipating our inability to resist
the temptations they had thrown in our way. I was really provoked at
their barefaced treachery, and should most undoubtedly have attacked
them, had they not precipitately retreated on being warned by the women
that I was arming my men, which I had only now done upon seeing such
strong manifestations of danger. M'Leay set the example of coolness on
this occasion; and I had some doubts whether I was justified in
allowing the natives to escape with impunity, considering that if they
had wounded any one of us the most melancholy and fatal results would
have ensued.
We did not see anything more of the blacks during the rest of the day,
but the repeated indications of hostility we perceived as we approached
the Darling, made me apprehensive as to the reception we should meet
from its numerous population; and I was sorry to observe that the men
anticipated danger in passing that promising junction.
Having left the sea breezes behind us, the weather had become
oppressive; and as the current was stronger, and rapids more numerous,
our labour was proportionably increased. We perspired to an astonishing
degree, and gave up our oars after our turn at them, with shirts and
clothes as wet as if we had been in the water. Indeed Mulholland and
Hopkinson, who worked hard, poured a considerable quantity of
perspiration from their shoes after their task. The evil of this was
that we were always chilled after rowing, and, of course, suffered more
than we should otherwise have done.
RE-PASS THE LINDESAY.
On the 25th we passed the last of the cliffs composing the great fossil
bed through which the Murray flows, and entered that low country
already described as being immediately above it. On a more attentive
examination of the distant interior, my opinion as to its flooded
origin was confirmed, more especially in reference to the country to
the S.E. On the 30th we passed the mouth of the Lindesay, and from the
summit of the sand hills to the north of the Murray overlooked the flat
country, through which I conclude it must run, from the line of fires
we observed amid the trees, and most probably upon its banks.
We did not fall in with the natives in such numbers as when we passed
down to the coast: still they were in sufficient bodies to be
troublesome. It would, however, appear that the tribes do not generally
frequent the river. They must have a better country back from it, and
most probably linger amongst the lagoons and creeks where food is more
abundant. The fact is evident from the want of huts upon the banks of
the Murray, and the narrowness of the paths along its margin.
RE-PASSED THE RUFUS.
We experienced the most oppressive heat about this time. Calms
generally prevailed, and about 3 p.m. the sun's rays fell upon us with
intense effect. The waters of the Murray continued extremely muddy, a
circumstance we discovered to be owing to the turbid current of the
Rufus, which we passed on the 1st of March. It is, really, singular
whence this little stream originates. It will be remembered that I
concluded it must have been swollen by rains when we first saw it; yet,
after an absence of more than three weeks we found it discharging its
waters as muddy as ever into the main stream; and that, too, in such
quantities as to discolour its waters to the very lake. The reader will
have some idea of the force of the current in both, when I assure him
that for nearly fifty yards below the mouth of the Rufus, the waters of
the Murray preserve their transparency, and the line between them and
the turbid waters of its tributary was as distinctly marked as if drawn
by a pencil. Indeed, the higher we advanced, the more did we feel the
strength of the current, against which we had to pull.
DIFFICULTIES AT THE RAPIDS.
A little below the Lindesay, a rapid occurs. It was with the utmost
difficulty that we stemmed it with the four oars upon the boat, and the
exertion of our whole strength. We remained, at one time, perfectly
stationary, the force we employed and that of the current being equal.
We at length ran up the stream obliquely; but it was evident the men
were not adequate to such exertion for any length of time. We pulled
that day for eleven successive hours, in order to avoid a tribe of
natives who followed us. Hopkinson and Fraser fell asleep at their
oars, and even the heavy Clayton appeared to labour.
We again occupied our camp under the first remarkable cliffs of the
Murray, a description of which has been given in page 128 of this work.
[GEOLOGICAL EXAMINATION.] Their summit, as I have already remarked
forms a table land of some elevation. From it the distant interior to
the S.S.E. appears very depressed; that to the north undulates more. In
neither quarter, however, does any bright foliage meet the eye, to tell
that a better soil is under it; but a dark and gloomy vegetation
occupies both the near and distant ground, in proof that the sandy
sterile tracts, succeeding the river deposits, stretch far away without
a change.
A little above our camp of the 28th of January, we fell in with a large
tribe of natives, whose anxiety to detain us was remarkable. The wind,
however, which, from the time we lost the sea breezes, had hung to the
S.E., had changed to the S.W., and we were eagerly availing ourselves
of it. It will not be supposed we stopped even for a moment. In truth
we pressed on with great success, and did not land to sleep until nine
o'clock. As long as the wind blew from the S.W., the days were cool,
and the sky overcast even so much so as to threaten rain.
The least circumstance, in our critical situation, naturally raised my
apprehensions, and I feared the river would be swollen in the event of
any heavy rains in the hilly country; I hoped, however, we should gain
the Morumbidgee before such a calamity should happen to us, and it
became my object to press for that river without delay.
OBSTACLES TO THE NAVIGATION--DANGEROUS RAPIDS.
Although we had met with frequent rapids in our progress upwards, they
had not been of a serious kind, nor such as would affect the navigation
of the river. The first direct obstacle of this kind occurs a little
above a small tributary that falls into the Murray from the north,
between the Rufus and the cliffs we have alluded to. At this place a
reef of coarse grit contracts the channel of the river. No force we
could have exerted with the oars would have taken us up this rapid; but
we accomplished the task easily by means of a rope which we hauled
upon, on the same principle that barges are dragged by horses along the
canals.
As we neared the junction of the two main streams, the country, on both
sides of the river, became low, and its general appearance confirmed
the opinion I have already given as to its flooded origin. The clouds
that obscured the sky, and had threatened to burst for some time, at
length gave way, and we experienced two or three days of heavy rain. In
the midst of it we passed the second stage of our journey, and found
the spot lately so crowded with inhabitants totally deserted. A little
above it we surprised a small tribe in a temporary shelter; but neither
our offers nor presents could prevail on any of them to expose
themselves to the torrent that was falling. They sat shivering in their
bark huts in evident astonishment at our indifference. We threw them
some trifling presents and were glad to proceed unattended by any of
them.
PERILOUS ASCENT OF THE RAPIDS.
It will be remembered that in passing down the river, the boat was
placed in some danger in descending a rapid before we reached the
junction of the Murray with the stream supposed by me to be the
Darling. We were now gradually approaching the rapid, nor did I well
know how we should surmount such an obstacle. Strength to pull up it we
had not, and I feared our ropes would not be long enough to reach to
the shore over some of the rocks, since it descended in minor
declivities to a considerable distance below the principal rapid, in
the centre of which the boat had struck. We reached the commencement of
these rapids on the 6th, and ascended the first by means of ropes,
which were hauled upon by three of the men from the bank; and, as the
day was pretty far advanced, we stopped a little above it, that we
might attempt the principal rapid before we should be exhausted by
previous exertion. It was fortunate that we took such a precaution. The
morning of the 7th proved extremely dark, and much rain fell. We
commenced our journey in the midst of it, and soon gained the tail of
the rapid. Our attempt to pull up it completely failed. The boat, as
soon as she entered the ripple, spun round like a toy, and away we went
with the stream. As I had anticipated, our ropes were too short; and it
only remained for us to get into the water, and haul the boat up by
main force. We managed pretty well at first, and drew her alongside a
rock to rest a little. We then recommenced our efforts, and had got
into the middle of the channel. We were up to our armpits in the water,
and only kept our position by means of rocks beside us. The rain was
falling, as if we were in a tropical shower, and the force of the
current was such, that if we had relaxed for an instant, we should have
lost all the ground we had gained. Just at this moment, however,
without our being aware of their approach, a large tribe of natives,
with their spears, lined the bank, and took us most completely by
surprise. At no time during this anxious journey were we ever so
completely in their power, or in so defenceless a situation. It rained
so hard, that our firelocks would have been of no use, and had they
attacked us, we must necessarily have been slaughtered without
committing the least execution upon them. Nothing, therefore, remained
for us but to continue our exertions. It required only one strong
effort to get the boat into still water for a time, but that effort was
beyond our strength, and we stood in the stream, powerless and
exhausted.
ASSISTED BY THE NATIVES.
The natives, in the meanwhile, resting on their spears, watched us with
earnest attention. One of them, who was sitting close to the water, at
length called to us, and we immediately recognised the deep voice of
him to whose singular interference we were indebted for our escape on
the 23rd of January. I desired Hopkinson to swim over to him, and to
explain that we wanted assistance. This was given without hesitation;
and we at length got under the lea of the rock, which I have already
described as being in the centre of the river. The natives launched
their bark canoes, the only frail means they possess of crossing the
rivers with their children. These canoes are of the simplest
construction and rudest materials, being formed of an oblong piece of
bark, the ends of which are stuffed with clay, so as to render them
impervious to the water. With several of these they now paddled round
us with the greatest care, making their spears, about ten feet in
length,(which they use at once as poles and paddles,) bend nearly
double in the water. We had still the most difficult part of the rapid
to ascend, where the rush of water was the strongest, and where the
decline of the bed almost amounted to a fall. Here the blacks could be
of no use to us. No man could stem the current, supposing it to have
been shallow at the place, but it was on the contrary extremely deep.
Remaining myself in the boat, I directed all the men to land, after we
had crossed the stream, upon a large rock that formed the left buttress
as it were to this sluice, and, fastening the rope to the mast instead
of her head, they pulled upon it. The unexpected rapidity with which
the boat shot up the passage astonished me, and filled the natives with
wonder, who testified their admiration of so dextrous a manoeuvre, by a
loud shout.
It will, no doubt, have struck the reader as something very remarkable,
that the same influential savage to whom we had already been indebted,
should have been present on this occasion, and at a moment when we so
much needed his assistance. Having surmounted our difficulties, we took
leave of this remarkable man, and pursued our journey up the river.
It may be imagined we did not proceed very far; the fact was, we only
pushed forward to get rid of the natives, for, however pacific, they
were always troublesome, and we were seldom fitted for a trial of
temper after the labours of the day were concluded. The men had various
occupations in which, when the natives were present, they were
constantly interrupted, and whenever the larger tribes slept near us,
the utmost vigilance was necessary on the part of the night-guard,
which was regularly mounted as soon as the tents were pitched. We had
had little else than our flour to subsist on. Hopkinson and Harris
endeavoured to supply M'Leay and myself with a wild fowl occasionally,
but for themselves, and the other men, nothing could be procured to
render their meal more palatable.
GOOD CONDUCT OF THE MEN.
I have omitted to mention one remarkable trait of the good disposition
of all the men while on the coast. Our sugar had held out to that
point; but it appeared, when we examined the stores, that six pounds
alone remained in the cask. This the men positively refused to touch.
They said that, divided, it would benefit nobody; that they hoped
M'Leay and I would use it, that it would last us for some time, and
that they were better able to submit to privations than we were. The
feeling did them infinite credit, and the circumstance is not forgotten
by me. The little supply the kindness of our men left to us was,
however, soon exhausted, and poor M'Leay preferred pure water to the
bitter draught that remained. I have been some times unable to refrain
from smiling, as I watched the distorted countenances of my humble
companions while drinking their tea and eating their damper.
The ducks and swans, seen in such myriads on the lake, seldom appeared
on the river, in the first stages of our journey homewards. About the
time of which I am writing, however, a few swans occasionally flew over
our heads at night, and their silvery note was musically sweet.
From the 10th to the 15th, nothing of moment occurred: we pulled
regularly from day-light to dark, not less to avoid the natives than to
shorten our journey. Yet, notwithstanding that we moved at an hour when
the natives seldom stir, we were rarely without a party of them, who
followed us in spite of our efforts to tire them out.
MOLESTED BY NATIVES.
On the 15th, we had about 150 at our camp. Many of them were extremely
noisy, and the whole of them very restless. They lay down close to the
tents, or around our fire. I entertained some suspicion of them, and
when they were apparently asleep, I watched them narrowly. Macnamee was
walking up and down with his firelock, and every time he turned his
back, one of the natives rose gently up and poised his spear at him,
and as soon as he thought Macnamee was about to turn, he dropped as
quietly into his place. When I say the native got up, I do not mean
that he stood up, but that he raised himself sufficiently for the
purpose he had in view. His spear would not, therefore, have gone with
much force, but I determined it should not quit his hand, for had I
observed any actual attempt to throw it, I should unquestionably have
shot him dead upon the spot. The whole of the natives were awake, and
it surprised me they did not attempt to plunder us. They rose with the
earliest dawn, and crowded round the tents without any hesitation. We,
consequently, thought it prudent to start as soon as we had breakfasted.
FRASER IN DANGER.
We had all of us got into the boat, when Fraser remembered he had left
his powder-horn on shore. In getting out to fetch it, he had to push
through the natives. On his return, when his back was towards them,
several natives lifted their spears together, and I was so apprehensive
they would have transfixed him, that I called out before I seized my
gun; on which they lowered their weapons and ran away. The disposition
to commit personal violence was evident from these repeated acts of
treachery; and we should doubtless have suffered from it on some
occasion or other, had we not been constantly on the alert.
We had been drawing nearer the Morumbidgee every day. This was the last
tribe we saw on the Murray; and the following afternoon, to our great
joy, we quitted it and turned our boat into the gloomy and narrow
channel of its tributary. Our feelings were almost as strong when we
re-entered it, as they had been when we were launched from it into that
river, on whose waters we had continued for upwards of fifty-five days;
during which period, including the sweeps and bends it made, we could
not have travelled less than 1500 miles.
Our provisions were now running very short; we had, however, "broken
the neck of our journey," as the men said, and we looked anxiously to
gaining the depot; for we were not without hopes that Robert Harris
would have pushed forward to it with his supplies. We were quite
puzzled on entering the Morumbidgee, how to navigate its diminutive
bends and its encumbered channel. I thought poles would have been more
convenient than oars; we therefore stopped at an earlier hour than
usual to cut some. Calling to mind the robbery practised on us shortly
after we left the depot, my mind became uneasy as to Robert Harris's
safety, since I thought it probable, from the sulky disposition of the
natives who had visited us there, that he might have been attacked.
Thus, when my apprehensions on our own account had partly ceased, my
fears became excited with regard to him and his party.
RE-ENTER THE MORUMBIDGEE.
The country, to a considerable distance from the junction on either
side the Morumbidgee, is not subject to inundation. Wherever we landed
upon its banks, we found the calistemma in full flower, and in the
richest profusion. There was, also, an abundance of grass, where before
there had been no signs of vegetation, and those spots which we had
condemned as barren were now clothed with a green and luxuriant carpet.
So difficult is it to judge of a country on a partial and hurried
survey, and so differently does it appear at different periods. I was
rejoiced to find that the rains had not swollen the river, for I was
apprehensive that heavy falls had taken place in the mountains, and was
unprepared for so much good fortune.
FEAST ON A SWAN.
The poles we cut were of no great use to us, and we soon laid them
aside, and took to our oars. Fortune seemed to favour us exceedingly.
The men rallied, and we succeeded in killing a good fat swan, that
served as a feast for all. I imagine the absence of mud and weeds of
every kind in the Murray, prevents this bird from frequenting its
waters.
On the 18th, we found ourselves entering the reedy country, through
which we had passed with such doubt and anxiety. Every object elicited
some remark from the men, and I was sorry to find they reckoned with
certainty on seeing Harris at the depot, as I knew they would be
proportionally depressed in spirits if disappointed. However, I
promised Clayton a good repast as soon as we should see him.
LOSE ONE OF OUR DOGS.
I had walked out with M'Leay a short distance from the river, and had
taken the dogs. They followed us to the camp on our return to it, but
the moment they saw us enter the tent, they went off to hunt by
themselves. About 10 p.m., one of them, Bob, came to the fire, and
appeared very uneasy; he remained, for a short time, and then went
away. In about an hour, he returned, and after exhibiting the same
restlessness, again withdrew. He returned the third time before morning
dawned, but returned alone. The men on the watch were very stupid not
to have followed him, for, no doubt, he went to his companion, to whom,
most likely, some accident had happened. I tried to make him show, but
could not succeed, and, after a long search, reluctantly pursued our
journey, leaving poor Sailor to his fate. This was the only misfortune
that befell us, and we each of us felt the loss of an animal which had
participated in all our dangers and privations. I more especially
regretted the circumstance for the sake of the gentleman who gave him
to me, and, on account of his superior size and activity.
ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES.
With the loss of poor Sailor, our misfortunes re-commenced. I
anticipated some trouble hereabouts, for, having succeeded in their
hardihood once, I knew the natives would again attempt to rob us, and
that we should have some difficulty in keeping them off. As soon as
they found out that we were in the river, they came to us, but left us
at sunset. This was on the 21st. At nightfall, I desired the watch to
keep a good look out, and M'Leay and I went to lie down. We had chosen
an elevated bank for our position, and immediately opposite to us there
was a small space covered with reeds, under blue-gum trees. About 11,
Hopkinson came to the tent to say, that he was sure the blacks were
approaching through the reeds. M'Leay and I got up, and, standing on
the bank, listened attentively. All we heard was the bark of a native
dog apparently, but this was, in fact, a deception on the part of the
blacks. We made no noise, in consequence of which they gradually
approached, and two or three crept behind the trunk of a tree that had
fallen. As I thought they were near enough, George M'Leay, by my
desire, fired a charge of small shot at them. They instantly made a
precipitate retreat; but, in order the more effectually to alarm them,
Hopkinson fired a ball into the reeds, which we distinctly heard
cutting its way through them. All was quiet until about three o'clock,
when a poor wretch who, most probably, had thrown himself on the ground
when the shots were fired, at length mustered courage to get up and
effect his escape.
In the morning, the tribe kept aloof, but endeavoured, by the most
earnest entreaties, and most pitiable howling, to gain our favour; but
I threatened to shoot any that approached, and they consequently kept
at a respectful distance, dogging us from tree to tree. It appeared,
therefore, that they were determined to keep us in view, no doubt, with
the intention of trying what they could do by a second attempt. As they
went along, their numbers increased, and towards evening, they amounted
to a strong tribe. Still they did not venture near us, and only now and
then showed themselves. Our situation at this moment would have been
much more awkward in the event of attack, than when we were in the open
channel of the Murray; because we were quite at the mercy of the
natives if they had closed upon us, and, being directly under the
banks, should have received every spear, while it would have been easy
for them to have kept out of sight in assailing us.
APPARENT OBSTRUCTION OF THE CHANNEL.
It was near sunset, the men were tired, and I was looking out for a
convenient place at which to rest, intending to punish these natives if
they provoked me, or annoyed the men. We had not seen any of them for
some time, when Hopkinson, who was standing in the bow of the boat,
informed me that they had thrown boughs across the river to prevent our
passage. I was exceedingly indignant at this, and pushed on, intending
to force the barrier. On our nearer approach, a solitary black was
observed standing close to the river, and abreast of the impediment
which I imagined they had raised to our further progress. I threatened
to shoot this man, and pointed to the branches that stretched right
across the stream. The poor fellow uttered not a word, but, putting his
hand behind him, pulled out a tomahawk from his belt, and held it
towards me, by way of claiming our acquaintance; and any anger was soon
entirely appeased by discovering that the natives had been merely
setting a net across the river which these branches supported. We,
consequently, hung back, until they had drawn it, and then passed on.
MANOEUVRES OF THE NATIVES TO ROB THE BOAT AT NIGHT.
The black to whom I had spoken so roughly, cut across a bight of the
river, and walking down to the side of the water with a branch in his
hand, in mark of confidence, presented me with a fishing net. We were
highly pleased at the frank conduct of this black, and a convenient
place offering itself, we landed and pitched our tents. Our friend, who
was about forty, brought his two wives, and a young man, to us: and at
length the other blacks mustered courage to approach; but those who had
followed us from the last camp, kept on the other side of the river. On
pretence of being different families, they separated into small bodies,
and formed a regular cordon round our camp. We foresaw that this was a
manoeuvre, but, in hopes that if I forgave the past they would desist
from further attempts, M'Leay took great pains in conciliating them,
and treated them with great kindness. We gave each family some fire and
same presents, and walked together to them by turns, to show that we
had equal confidence in all. Our friend had posted himself immediately
behind our tents, at twenty yards distance, with his little family, and
kept altogether aloof from the other natives. Having made our round of
visits, and examined the various modes the women had of netting, M'Leay
and I went into our tent.
It happened, fortunately, that my servant, Harris, was the first for
sentry. I told him to keep a watchful eye on the natives, and to call
me if any thing unusual occurred. We had again chosen a lofty bank for
our position; behind us there was a small plain, of about a quarter of
a mile in breadth, backed by a wood. I was almost asleep, when my
servant came to inform me, that the blacks had, with one accord, made a
precipitate retreat, and that not one of them was to be seen at the
fires. I impressed the necessity of attention upon him, and he again
went to his post. Shortly after this, he returned: "Master," said he,
"the natives are coming." I jumped up, and, taking my gun, followed
him, leaving my friend George fast asleep. I would not disturb him,
until necessity required, for he had ever shown himself so devoted to
duty as to deserve every consideration. Harris led me a little way from
the tents, and then stopping, and pointing down the river, said,
"There, sir, don't you see them?" "Not I, indeed, Harris," I replied,
"where do you mean? are you sure you see them?" "Positive, sir," said
he; "stoop and you will see them." I did so, and saw a black mass in an
opening. Convinced that I saw them, I desired Harris to follow me, but
not to fire unless I should give the word. The rascals would not stand
our charge, however, but retreated as we advanced towards them. We then
returned to the tents, and, commending my servant for his vigilance, I
once more threw myself on my bed. I had scarcely lain down five
minutes, when Harris called out, "The blacks are close to me, sir;
shall I fire at them?" "How far are they?" I asked. "Within ten yards,
sir." "Then fire," said I; and immediately he did so. M'Leay and I
jumped up to his assistance. "Well, Harris," said I, "did you kill your
man?" (he is a remarkably good shot.) "No, sir," said he, "I thought
you would repent it, so I fired between the two." "Where were they,
man?" said I. "Close to the boat, sir; and when they heard me, they
swam into the river, and dived as soon as I fired between them." This
account was verified by one of them puffing as he rose below us, over
whose head I fired a shot. Where the other got to I could not tell.
This watchfulness, on our part, however, prevented any further attempts
during the night.
I was much pleased at the coolness of my servant, as well as his
consideration; and relieving him from his post, desired Hopkinson to
take it. I have no doubt that the approach of the natives, in the first
instance, was made with a view to draw us off from the camp, while some
others might rob the boat. If so, it was a good manoeuvre, and might
have succeeded.
NATIVES DESERT THEIR WEAPONS--INGENUOUS CONDUCT OF A NATIVE.
In the morning, we found the natives had left all their ponderous
spears at their fires, which were broken up and burnt. We were
surprised to find that our friend had left every thing in like manner
behind him--his spears, his nets, and his tomahawk; but as he had kept
so wholly aloof from the other blacks, I thought it highly improbable
that he had joined them, and the men were of opinion that he had
retreated across the plain into the wood. On looking in that direction
we observed some smoke rising among the trees at a little distance from
the outskirts of the plain, and under an impression that I should find
the native at the fire with his family, I took his spears and tomahawk,
and walked across the plain, unattended into the wood. I had not
entered it more than fifty yards when I saw a group of four natives,
sitting round a small fire. One of them, as I approached, rose up and
met me, and in him I recognised the man for whom I was seeking. When
near enough, I stuck the spears upright into the ground. The poor man
stood thunderstruck; he spoke not, he moved not, neither did he raise
his eyes from the ground. I had kept the tomahawk out of his sight, but
I now produced and offered it to him. He gave a short exclamation as
his eyes caught sight of it, but he remained otherwise silent before
me, and refused to grasp the tomahawk, which accordingly fell to the
ground. I had evidently excited the man's feelings, but it is difficult
to say how he was affected. His manner indicated shame and surprise,
and the sequel will prove that both these feelings must have possessed
him. While we were thus standing together, his two wives came up, to
whom, after pointing to the spears and tomahawk, he said something,
without, however, looking at me; and they both instantly burst into
tears and wept aloud. I was really embarrassed during so unexpected a
scene, and to break it, invited the native to the camp, but I motioned
with my hand, as I had not my gun with me, that I would shoot any other
of the blacks who followed me. He distinctly understood my meaning, and
intimated as distinctly to me that they should not follow us; nor did
they. We were never again molested by them.
I left him then, and, returning to the camp, told M'Leay my adventure,
with which he was highly delighted. My object is this procedure was to
convince the natives, generally, that we came not among them to injure
or to molest them, as well as to impress them with an idea of our
superior intelligence; and I am led to indulge the hope that I
succeeded. Certain it is, that an act of justice or of lenity has
frequently, if well timed, more weight than the utmost stretch of
severity. With savages, more particularly, to exhibit any fear,
distrust, or irresolution, will inevitably prove injurious.
But although these adventures were happily not attended with bloodshed,
they harassed the men much; and our camp for near a week was more like
an outpost picquet than any thing else. This, however, terminated all
attempts on the part of the natives. From henceforth none of them
followed us on our route.
BREACH THE DEPOT.
At noon, I stopped about a mile short of the depot to take sights.
After dinner we pulled on, the men looking earnestly out for their
comrades whom they had left there, but none appeared. My little arbour,
in which I had written my letters, was destroyed, and the bank on which
out tents had stood was wholly deserted. We landed, however, and it was
a satisfaction to me to see the homeward track of the drays. The men
were sadly disappointed, and poor Clayton, who had anticipated a
plentiful meal, was completely chop fallen. M'Leay and I comforted them
daily with the hopes of meeting the drays, which I did not think
improbable.
Thus, it will appear, that we regained the place from which we started
in seventy-seven days, during which, we could not have pulled less than
2000 miles. It is not for me, however, to make any comment, either on
the dangers to which we were occasionally exposed, or the toil and
privations we continually experienced in the course of this expedition.
My duty is, simply to give a plain narrative of facts, which I have
done with fidelity, and with as much accuracy as circumstances would
permit. Had we found Robert Harris at the depot, I should have
considered it unnecessary to trespass longer on the patient reader, but
as our return to that post did not relieve us from our difficulties, it
remains for me to carry on the narrative of our proceedings to the time
when we reached the upper branches of the Morumbidgee.
DISAPPOINTED OF SUPPLIES.
The hopes that had buoyed up the spirits of the men, ceased to operate
as soon as they were discovered to have been ill founded. The most
gloomy ideas took possession of their minds, and they fancied that we
had been neglected, and that Harris had remained in Sydney. It was to
no purpose that I explained to them that my instructions did not bind
Harris to come beyond Pondebadgery, and that I was confident he was
then encamped upon that plain.
We had found the intricate navigation of the Morumbidgee infinitely
more distressing than the hard pulling up the open reaches of the
Murray, for we were obliged to haul the boat up between numberless
trunks of trees, an operation that exhausted the men much more than
rowing. The river had fallen below its former level, and rocks and logs
were now exposed above the water, over many of which the boat's keel
must have grazed, as we passed down with the current. I really
shuddered frequently, at seeing these complicated dangers, and I was at
a loss to conceive how we could have escaped them. The planks of our
boat were so thin that if she had struck forcibly against any one
branch of the hundreds she must have grazed, she would inevitably have
been rent asunder from stem to stern.
COMPLETE EXHAUSTION OF THE MEN--ONE LOSES HIS SENSES.
The day after we passed the depot, on our return, we began to
experience the effects of the rains that had fallen in the mountains.
The Morumbidgee rose upon us six feet in one night, and poured along
its turbid waters with proportionate violence. For seventeen days we
pulled against them with determined perseverance, but human efforts,
under privations such as ours, tend to weaken themselves, and thus it
was that the men began to exhibit the effects of severe and unremitting
toil. Our daily journeys were short, and the head we made against the
stream but trifling. The men lost the proper and muscular jerk with
which they once made the waters foam and the oars bend. Their whole
bodies swung with an awkward and laboured motion. Their arms appeared
to be nerveless; their faces became haggard, their persons emaciated,
their spirits wholly sunk; nature was so completely overcome, that from
mere exhaustion they frequently fell asleep during their painful and
almost ceaseless exertions. It grieved me to the heart to see them in
such a state at the close of so perilous a service, and I began to
reproach Robert Harris that he did not move down the river to meet us;
but, in fact, he was not to blame. I became captious, and found fault
where there was no occasion, and lost the equilibrium of my temper in
contemplating the condition of my companions. No murmur, however,
escaped them, nor did a complaint reach me, that was intended to
indicate that they had done all they could do. I frequently heard them
in their tent, when they thought I had dropped asleep, complaining of
severe pains and of great exhaustion. "I must tell the captain,
to-morrow," some of them would say, "that I can pull no more."
To-morrow came, and they pulled on, as if reluctant to yield to
circumstances. Macnamee at length lost his senses. We first observed
this from his incoherent conversation, but eventually from manner. He
related the most extraordinary tales, and fidgeted about eternally
while in the boat. I felt it necessary, therefore, to relieve him from
the oars.
Amidst these distresses, M'Leay preserved his good humour, and
endeavoured to lighten the task, and to cheer the men as much as
possible. His presence at this time was a source of great comfort to
me. The uniform kindness with which he had treated his companions, gave
him an influence over them now, and it was exerted with the happiest
effect.
DESPATCH TWO MEN TO PONDEBADGERY.
On the 8th and 9th of April we had heavy rain, but there was no respite
for us. Our provisions were nearly consumed, and would have been wholly
exhausted, if we had not been so fortunate as to kill several swans. On
the 11th, we gained our camp opposite to Hamilton's Plains, after a day
of severe exertion. Our tents were pitched upon the old ground, and the
marks of our cattle were around us. In the evening, the men went out
with their guns, and M'Leay and I walked to the rear of the camp, to
consult undisturbed as to the moat prudent measures to be adopted,
under our embarrassing circumstances. The men were completely sunk. We
were still between eighty and ninety miles from Pondebadgery, in a
direct line, and nearly treble that distance by water. The task was
greater than we could perform, and our provisions were insufficient. In
this extremity I thought it best to save the men the mortification of
yielding, by abandoning the boat; and on further consideration, I
determined on sending Hopkinson and Mulholland, whose devotion,
intelligence, and indefatigable spirits, I well knew, forward to the
plain.
The joy this intimation spread was universal, Both Hopkinson and
Mulholland readily undertook the journey, and I, accordingly, prepared
orders for them to start by the earliest dawn. It was not without a
feeling of sorrow that I witnessed the departure of these two men, to
encounter a fatiguing march. I had no fears as to their gaining the
plain, if their reduced state would permit them. On the other hand, I
hoped they would fall in with our old friend the black, or that they
would meet the drays; and I could not but admire the spirit and energy
they both displayed upon the occasion. Their behaviour throughout had
been such as to awaken in my breast a feeling of the highest
approbation. Their conduct, indeed, exceeded all praise, nor did they
hesitate one moment when I called upon them to undertake this last
trying duty, after such continued exertion. I am sure the reader will
forgive me for bringing under his notice the generous efforts of these
two men; by me it can never be forgotten.
ABANDON AND BURN THE BOAT.
Six days had passed since their departure; we remaining encamped.
M'Leay and myself had made some short excursions, but without any
result worthy of notice. A group of sand-hills rose in the midst of the
alluvial deposits, about a quarter of a mile from the tents, that were
covered with coarse grasses and banksias. We shot several intertropical
birds feeding in the latter, and sucking the honey from their flowers.
I had, in the mean time, directed Clayton to make some plant cases of
the upper planks of the boat, and then to set fire to her, for she was
wholly unserviceable, and I felt a reluctance to leave her like a
neglected log on the water. The last ounce of flour had been served out
to the men, and the whole of it was consumed on the sixth day from that
on which we had abandoned the boat. I had calculated on seeing
Hopkinson again in eight days, but as the morrow would see us without
food, I thought, as the men had had a little rest it would be better to
advance towards relief than to await its arrival.
MEN RETURN WITH SUPPLIES.
On the evening of the 18th, therefore, we buried our specimens and
other stores, intending to break up the camp in the morning. A singular
bird, which invariably passed it at an hour after sunset, and which,
from its heavy flight, appeared to be of unusual size so attracted my
notice, that in the evening M'Leay and I crossed the river, in hope to
get a shot at it. We had, however, hardly landed on the other side,
when a loud shout called us back to witness the return of our comrades.
They were both of them in a state that beggars description. Their knees
and ankles were dreadfully swollen, and their limbs so painful, that as
soon as they arrived in the camp they sunk under their efforts, but
they met us with smiling countenances, and expressed their satisfaction
at having arrived so seasonably to our relief. They had, as I had
foreseen, found Robert Harris on the plain, which they reached on the
evening of the third day. They had started early the next morning on
their return with such supplies as they thought we might immediately
want. Poor Macnamee had in a great measure recovered, but for some days
he was sullen and silent: sight of the drays gave him uncommon
satisfaction. Clayton gorged himself; but M'Leay, myself and Fraser
could not at first relish the meat that was placed before us.
It was determined to give the bullocks a day of rest, and I availed
myself of the serviceable state of the horses to visit some hills about
eighteen miles to the northward. I was anxious to gain a view of the
distant country to the N.W., and to ascertain the geological character
of the hills themselves. M'Leay, Fraser, and myself left the camp early
in the morning of the 19th, on our way to them. Crossing the sand
hills, we likewise passed a creek, and, from the flooded or alluvial
tracks, got on an elevated sandy country, in which we found a beautiful
grevillia. From this we passed a barren ridge of quartz-formation,
terminating in open box forest. From it we descended and traversed a
plain that must, at some periods, be almost impassable. It was covered
with acacia pendula, and the soil was a red earth, bare of vegetation
in many places. At its extremity we came to some stony ridges, and,
descending their northern side, gained the base of the hills. They were
more extensive than they appeared to be from our camp; and were about
six hundred feet in height, and composed of a conglomerate rock. They
were extremely barren, nor did the aspect of the country seem to
indicate a favourable change. I was enabled, however, to connect my
line of route with the more distant hills between the Morumbidgee and
the Lachlan. We returned to the camp at midnight.
MEET WITH THE DRAYS.
On the following morning we left our station before Hamilton's Plains.
We reached Pondebadgery on the 28th, and found Robert Harris, with a
plentiful supply of provisions. He had everything extremely regular,
and had been anxiously expecting our return, of which he at length
wholly despaired. He had been at the plain two months, and intended to
have moved down the river immediately, had we not made our appearance
when we did.
I had sent M'Leay forward on the 20th with letters to the Governor,
whose anxiety was great on our account. I remained for a fortnight on
the plain to restore the men, but Hopkinson had so much over-exerted
himself that it was with difficulty he crawled along.
In my despatches to the Governor, from the depot, I had suggested the
policy of distributing some blankets and other presents to the natives
on the Morumbidgee, in order to reward those who had been useful to our
party, and in the hope of proving beneficial to settlers in that
distant part of the colony. His Excellency was kind enough to accede to
my request, and I found ample means for these purposes among the stores
that Harris brought from Sydney.
We left Pondebadgery Plain early on the 5th of May, and reached Guise's
Station late in the afternoon. We gained Yass Plains on the 12th,
having struck through the mountain passes by a direct line, instead of
returning by our old route near Underaliga. As the party was crossing
the plains I rode to see Mr. O'Brien, but did not find him at home.
INSTANCE OF CANNIBALISM.
While waiting at his hut, one of the stockmen pointed out two blacks to
me at a little distance from us. The one was standing, the other
sitting. "That fellow, sir," said he, "who is sitting down, killed his
infant child last night by knocking its head against a stone, after
which he threw it on the fire and then devoured it." I was quite horror
struck, and could scarcely believe such a story. I therefore went up to
the man and questioned him as to the fact, as well as I could. He did
not attempt to deny it, but slunk away in evident consciousness. I then
questioned the other that remained, whose excuse for his friend was
that the child was sick and would never have grown up, adding he
himself did not PATTER (eat) any of it.
Many of my readers may probably doubt this horrid occurrence having
taken place, as I have not mentioned any corroborating circumstances. I
am myself, however, as firmly persuaded of the truth of what I have
stated as if I had seen the savage commit the act; for I talked to his
companion who did see him, and who described to me the manner in which
he killed the child. Be it as it may, the very mention of such a thing
among these people goes to prove that they are capable of such an
enormity.
We left Yass Plains on the 14th of May, and reached Sydney by easy
stages on the 25th, after an absence of nearly six months.
* * * * *
CONCLUDING REMARKS.
To most of my readers, the foregoing narrative will appear little else
than a succession of adventures. Whilst the expedition was toiling down
the rivers, no rich country opened upon the view to reward or to cheer
the perseverance of those who composed it, and when, at length, the
land of promise lay smiling before them, their strength and their means
were too much exhausted to allow of their commencing an examination, of
the result of which there could be but little doubt. The expedition
returned to Sydney, without any splendid discovery to gild its
proceedings; and the labours and dangers it had encountered were
considered as nothing more than ordinary occurrences. If I myself had
entertained hopes that my researches would have benefited the colony, I
was wholly disappointed. There is a barren tract of country lying to
the westward of the Blue Mountains that will ever divide the eastern
coast from the more central parts of Australia, as completely as if
seas actually rolled between them.
GEOGRAPHICAL REMARKS.
In a geographical point of view, however, nothing could have been more
satisfactory, excepting an absolute knowledge of the country to the
northward between the Murray and the Darling, than the results of the
expedition. I have in its proper place stated, as fairly as I could, my
reasons for supposing the principal junction (which I consequently left
without a name) to be the Darling of my former journey, as well as the
various arguments that bore against such a conclusion.
Of course, where there is so much room for doubt, opinions will be
various. I shall merely review the subject, in order to connect
subsequent events with my previous observations, and to give the reader
a full idea of that which struck me to be the case on a close and
anxious investigation of the country from mountain to lowland. I
returned from the Macquarie with doubts on my mind as to the ultimate
direction to which the waters of the Darling river might ultimately
flow; for, with regard to every other point, the question was, I
considered, wholly decided. But, with regard to that singular stream, I
was, from the little knowledge I had obtained, puzzled as to its actual
course; and I thought it as likely that it might turn into the heart of
the interior, as that it would make to the south. It had not, however,
escaped my notice, that the northern rivers turned more abruptly
southward (after gaining a certain distance from the base of the
ranges) than the more southern streams: near the junction of the
Castlereagh with the Darling especially, the number of large creeks
joining the first river from the north, led me to conclude that there
was at that particular spot a rapid fall of country to the south.
The first thing that strengthened in my mind this half-formed opinion,
was the fall of the Lachlan into the Morumbidgee. I had been told that
Australia was a basin; that an unbroken range of hills lined its
coasts, the internal rivers of which fell into its centre, and
contributed to the formation of an inland sea; I was not therefore
prepared to find a break in the chain--a gap as it were for the escape
of these waters to the coast.
Subsequently to our entrance into the Murray, the remarkable efforts of
that river to maintain a southerly course were observed even by the
men, and the singular runs it made to the south, when unchecked by high
lands, clearly evinced its natural tendency to flow in that direction.
Had we found ourselves at an elevation above the bed of the Darling
when we reached the junction of the principal tributary with the
Murray, I should still have had doubts on my mind as to the identity of
that tributary with the first-mentioned river; but considering the
trifling elevation of the Darling above the sea, and that the junction
was still less elevated above it, I cannot bring myself to believe that
the former alters its course. It is not, however, on this simple
geographical principle that I have built my conclusions; other
corroborative circumstances have tended also to confirm in my mind the
opinion I have already given, not only of the comparatively recent
appearance above the ocean of the level country over which I had
passed, but that the true dip of the interior is from north to south.
In support of the first of these conclusions, it would appear that a
current of water must have swept the vast accumulation of shells,
forming the great fossil bank through which the Murray passes from the
northern extremity of the continent, to deposit them where they are;
and it would further appear from the gradual rise of this bed, on an
inclined plain from N.N.E. to S.S.W., that it must in the first
instance, have swept along the base of the ranges, but ultimately
turned into the above direction by the convexity of the mountains at
the S.E. angle of the coast. From the circumstance, moreover, of the
summit of the fossil formation being in places covered with oyster
shells, the fact of the whole mass having been under water is
indisputable, and leads us naturally to the conclusion that the
depressed interior beyond it must have been under water at the same
time.
It was proved by barometrical admeasurement, that the cataract of the
Macquarie was 680 feet above the level of the sea, and, in like manner,
it was found that the depot of Mr. Oxley, on the Lachlan, was only 500,
there being a still greater fall of country beyond these two points.
The maximum height of the fossil bank was 300 feet; and if we suppose a
line to be drawn from its top to the eastward, that line would pass
over the marshes of the two rivers, and would cut them at a point below
which they both gradually diminish. Hence I am brought to conclude that
in former times the sea washed the western base of the dividing ranges,
at or near the two points whose respective elevations I have given; and
that when the mass of land now lying waste and unproductive, became
exposed, the rivers, which until then had pursued a regular course to
the ocean, having no channel beyond their original termination,
overflowed the almost level country into which they now fall; or,
filling some extensive concavity, have contributed, by successive
depositions, to the formation of those marshes of which so much has
been said. I regret extremely, that my defective vision prevents me
giving a slight sketch to elucidate whet I fear I have, in words,
perhaps, failed in making sufficiently intelligible.
GEOLOGICAL REMARKS.
Now, as we know not by what means the changes that have taken place on
the earth's surface have been effected, and can only reason on them
from analogy, it is to be feared we shall never arrive at any clear
demonstration of the truth of our surmises with regard to geographical
changes, whether extensive or local, since the causes which produced
them will necessarily have ceased to operate. We cannot refer to the
dates when they took place, as we may do in regard to the eruptions of
a volcano, or the appearance or disappearance of an island. Such events
are of minor importance. Those mighty changes to which I would be
understood to allude, can hardly be laid to the account of chemical
agency. We can easily comprehend how subterranean fires will
occasionally burst forth, and can thus satisfactorily account for
earthquake or volcano; but it is not to any clashing of properties, or
to any visible causes, that the changes of which I speak can be
attributed. They appear rather as the consequences of direct agency, of
an invisible power, not as the occasional and fretful workings of
nature herself. The marks of that awful catastrophe which so nearly
extinguished the human race, are every day becoming more and more
visible as geological research proceeds. Thus, in the limestone caves
at Wellington Valley, the remains of fossils and exuviae, show that
their depths were penetrated by the same searching element that poured
into the caverns of Kirkdale and other places. They are as gleams of
sunshine falling upon the pages of that sublime and splendid volume, in
which the history of the deluge is alone to be found; as if the
Almighty intended that His word should stand single and unsupported
before mankind: and when we consider that such corroborative
testimonies of his wrath, as those I have noticed, were in all
probability wholly unknown to those who wrote that sacred book, the
discovery of the remains of a past world, must strike those under whose
knowledge it may fall with the truth of that awful event, which
language has vainly endeavoured to describe and painters to represent.
CHAPTER VIII.
Environs of the lake Alexandrina--Appointment of Capt. Barker to make a
further survey of the coast near Encounter Bay--Narrative of his
proceedings--Mount Lofty, Mount Barker, and beautiful country
adjacent--Australian salmon--Survey of the coast--Outlet of lake to the
sea--Circumstances that led to the slaughter of Capt. Barker by the
natives--His character--Features of this part of the country and
capabilities of its coasts--Its adaptation for colonization--Suggestions
for the furtherance of future Expeditions.
ENVIRONS OF THE LAKE ALEXANDRINA.
The foregoing narrative will have given the reader some idea of the
state in which the last expedition reached the bottom of that extensive
and magnificent basin which receives the waters of the Murray. The men
were, indeed, so exhausted, in strength, and their provisions so much
reduced by the time they gained the coast, that I doubted much, whether
either would hold out to such place as we might hope for relief. Yet,
reduced as the whole of us were from previous exertion, beset as our
homeward path was by difficulty and danger, and involved as our
eventual safety was in obscurity and doubt, I could not but deplore the
necessity that obliged me to re-cross the Lake Alexandrina (as I had
named it in honour of the heir apparent to the British crown), and to
relinquish the examination of its western shores. We were borne over
its ruffled and agitated surface with such rapidity, that I had
scarcely time to view it as we passed; but, cursory as my glance was, I
could not but think I was leaving behind me the fullest reward of our
toil, in a country that would ultimately render our discoveries
valuable, and benefit the colony for whose interests we were engaged.
Hurried, I would repeat, as my view of it was, my eye never fell on a
country of more promising aspect, or of more favourable position, than
that which occupies the space between the lake and the ranges of St.
Vincent's Gulf, and, continuing northerly from Mount Barker, stretches
away, without any visible boundary.
It appeared to me that, unless nature had deviated from her usual laws,
this tract of country could not but be fertile, situated as it was to
receive the mountain deposits on the one hand, and those of the lake
upon the other.
FURTHER EXAMINATION OF THE COAST.
In my report to the Colonial Government, however, I did not feel myself
justified in stating, to their full extent, opinions that were founded
on probability and conjecture alone. But, although I was guarded in
this particular, I strongly recommended a further examination of the
coast, from the most eastern point of Encounter Bay, to the head St.
Vincent's Gulf, to ascertain if any other than the known channel
existed among the sand-hills of the former, or if, as I had every
reason to hope from the great extent of water to the N.W., there was a
practicable communication with the lake from the other; and I ventured
to predict, that a closer survey of the interjacent country, would be
attended with the most beneficial results; nor have I a doubt that the
promontory of Cape Jervis would ere this have been settled, had Captain
Barker lived to complete his official reports.
CAPT. BARKER'S SURVEY.
The governor, General Darling, whose multifarious duties might well
have excused him from paying attention to distant objects, hesitated
not a moment when he thought the interests of the colony, whose welfare
he so zealously promoted, appeared to be concerned; and he determined
to avail himself of the services of Captain Collet Barker, of the 39th
regiment, who was about to be recalled from King George's Sound, in
order to satisfy himself as to the correctness of my views.
Captain Barker had not long before been removed from Port Raffles, on
the northern coast, where he had had much intercourse with the natives,
and had frequently trusted himself wholly in their hands. It was not,
however, merely on account of his conciliating manners, and knowledge
of the temper and habits of the natives, that he was particularly
fitted for the duty upon which it was the governor's pleasure to employ
him. He was, in addition, a man of great energy of character, and of
much and various information.
Orders having reached Sydney, directing the establishment belonging to
New South Wales to be withdrawn, prior to the occupation of King
George's Sound by the government of Western Australia, the ISABELLA
schooner was sent to receive the troops and prisoners on board; and
Captain Barker was directed, as soon as he should have handed over the
settlement to Captain Stirling, to proceed to Cape Jervis, from which
point it was thought he could best carry on a survey not only of the
coast but also of the interior.
This excellent and zealous officer sailed from King George's Sound, on
the 10th of April, 1831, and arrived off Cape Jervis on the 13th. He
was attended by Doctor Davies, one of the assistant surgeons of his
regiment, and by Mr. Kent, of the Commissariat. It is to the latter
gentleman that the public are indebted for the greater part of the
following details; he having attended Captain Barker closely during the
whole of this short but disastrous excursion, and made notes as copious
as they are interesting. At the time the ISABELLA arrived off Cape
Jervis, the weather was clear and favourable. Captain Barker
consequently stood into St. Vincent's Gulf, keeping, as near as
practicable, to the eastern shore, in soundings that varied from six to
ten fathoms, upon sand and mud. His immediate object was to ascertain
if there was any communication with the lake Alexandrina from the gulf.
He ascended to lat. 34 degrees 40 minutes where he fully satisfied
himself that no channel did exist between them. He found, however, that
the ranges behind Cape Jervis terminated abruptly at Mount Lofty, in
lat. 34 degrees 56 minutes, and, that a flat and wooded country
succeeded to the N. and N.E. The shore of the gulf tended more to the
N.N.W., and mud flats and mangrove swamps prevailed along it.
INVITING COUNTRY--MOUNT LOFTY.
Mr. Kent informs me, that they landed for the first time on the 15th,
but that they returned almost immediately to the vessel. On the 17th,
Captain Barker again landed, with the intention of remaining on shore
for two or three days. He was accompanied by Mr. Kent, his servant
Mills, and two soldiers. The boat went to the place at which they had
before landed, as they thought they had discovered a small river with a
bar entrance. They crossed the bar, and ascertained that it was a
narrow inlet, of four miles in length, that terminated at the base of
the ranges. The party were quite delighted with the aspect of the
country on either side of the inlet, and with the bold and romantic
scenery behind them. The former bore the appearance of natural meadows,
lightly timbered, and covered with a variety of grasses. The soil was
observed to be a rich, fat, chocolate coloured earth, probably the
decomposition of the deep blue limestone, that showed itself along the
coast hereabouts. On the other hand, a rocky glen made a cleft in the
ranges at the head of the inlet; and they were supplied with abundance
of fresh water which remained in the deeper pools that had been filled
by the torrents during late rains. The whole neighbourhood was so
inviting that the party slept at the head of the inlet.
MOUNT LOFTY AND ITS ENVIRONS.
In the morning, Captain Barker proceeded to ascend Mount Lofty,
accompanied by Mr. Kent and his servant, leaving the two soldiers at
the bivouac, at which he directed them to remain until his return. Mr.
Kent says they kept the ridge all the way, and rose above the sea by a
gradual ascent. The rock-formation of the lower ranges appeared to be
an argillaceous schist; the sides and summit of the ranges were covered
with verdure, and the trees upon them were of more than ordinary size.
The view to the eastward was shut out by other ranges, parallel to
those on which they were; below them to the westward, the same pleasing
kind of country that flanked the inlet still continued.
MOUNT BARKER.
In the course of the day they passed round the head of a deep ravine,
whose smooth and grassy sides presented a beautiful appearance. The
party stood 600 feet above the bed of a small rivulet that occupied the
bottom of the ravine. In some places huge blocks of granite interrupted
its course, in others the waters had worn the rock smooth. The polish
of these rocks was quite beautiful, and the veins of red and white
quartz which traversed them, looked like mosaic work. They did not gain
the top of Mount Lofty, but slept a few miles beyond the ravine. In the
morning they continued their journey, and, crossing Mount Lofty,
descended northerly, to a point from which the range bent away a little
to the N.N.E., and then terminated. The view from this point was much
more extensive than that from Mount Lofty itself. They overlooked a
great part of the gulf, and could distinctly see the mountains at the
head of it to the N.N.W. To the N.W. there was a considerable
indentation in the coast, which had escaped Captain Barker's notice
when examining it. A mountain, very similar to Mount Lofty, bore due
east of them, and appeared to be the termination of its range. They
were separated by a valley of about ten miles in width, the appearance
of which was not favourable. Mr. Kent states to me, that Capt. Barker
observed at the time that he thought it probable I had mistaken this
hill for Mount Lofty, since it shut out the view of the lake from him,
and therefore he naturally concluded, I could not have seen Mount
Lofty. I can readily imagine such an error to have been made by me,
more especially as I remember that at the time I was taking bearings in
the lake, I thought Captain Flinders had not given Mount Lofty, as I
then conceived it to be, its proper position in longitude. Both hills
are in the same parallel of latitude. The mistake on my part is
obvious. I have corrected it in the charts, and have availed myself of
the opportunity thus afforded me of perpetuating, as far as I can, the
name of an inestimable companion in Captain Barker himself.
Immediately below the point on which they stood, Mr. Kent says, a low
undulating country extended to the northward, as far as he could see.
It was partly open, and partly wooded; and was every where covered with
verdure. It continued round to the eastward, and apparently ran down
southerly, at the opposite base of the mount Barker Range. I think
there can be but little doubt that my view from the S.E., that is, from
the lake, extended over the same or a part of the same country. Captain
Barker again slept on the summit of the range, near a large basin that
looked like the mouth of a crater, in which huge fragments of rocks
made a scene of the utmost confusion. These rocks were a coarse grey
granite, of which the higher parts and northern termination of the
Mount Lofty range are evidently formed; for Mr. Kent remarks that it
superseded the schistose formation at the ravine we have noticed--and
that, subsequently, the sides of the hills became more broken, and
valleys, or gullies, more properly speaking, very numerous. Captain
Barker estimated the height of Mount Lofty above the sea at 2,400 feet,
and the distance of its summit from the coast at eleven miles. Mr. Kent
says they were surprised at the size of the trees on the immediate brow
of it; they measured one and found it to be 43 feet in girth. Indeed,
he adds, vegetation did not appear to have suffered either from its
elevated position, or from any prevailing wind. Eucalypti were the
general timber on the ranges; one species of which, resembling strongly
the black butted-gum, was remarkable for a scent peculiar to its bark.
AUSTRALIAN SALMON.
The party rejoined the soldiers on the 21st, and enjoyed the supply of
fish which they had provided for them. The soldiers had amused
themselves by fishing during Captain Barker's absence, and had been
abundantly successful. Among others they had taken a kind of salmon,
which, though inferior in size, resembled in shape, in taste, and in
the colour of its flesh, the salmon of Europe. I fancied that a fish
which I observed with extremely glittering scales, in the mouth of a
seal, when myself on the coast, must have been of this kind; and I have
no doubt that the lake is periodically visited by salmon, and that
these fish retain their habits of entering fresh water at particular
seasons, also in the southern hemisphere.
Immediately behind Cape Jervis, there is a small bay, in which
according to the information of the sealers who frequent Kangaroo
Island, there is good and safe anchorage for seven months in the year,
that is to say, during the prevalence of the E. and N.E. winds.
SURVEY OF THE COAST.
Captain Barker landed on the 21st on this rocky point at the northern
extremity of this bay. He had, however, previously to this, examined
the indentation in the coast which he had observed from Mount Lofty,
and had ascertained that it was nothing more than an inlet; a spit of
sand, projecting from the shore at right angles with it, concealed the
month of the inlet. They took the boat to examine this point, and
carried six fathoms soundings round the head of the spit to the mouth
of the inlet, when it shoaled to two fathoms, and the landing was
observed to be bad, by reason of mangrove swamps on either side of it.
Mr. Kent, I think, told me that this inlet was from ten to twelve miles
long. Can it be that a current setting out of it at times, has thrown
up the sand-bank that protects its mouth, and that trees, or any other
obstacle, have hidden its further prolongation from Captain Barker's
notice? I have little hope that such is the case, but the remark is not
an idle one.
BEAUTIFUL VALLEYS.
Between this inlet and the one formerly mentioned, a small and clear
stream was discovered, to which Captain Barker kindly gave my name. On
landing, the party, which consisted of the same persons as the former
one, found themselves in a valley, which opened direct upon the bay. It
was confined to the north from the chief range by a lateral ridge, that
gradually declined towards and terminated at, the rocky point on which
they had landed. The other side of the valley was formed of a
continuation of the main range, which also gradually declined to the
south, and appeared to be connected with the hills at the extremity of
the cape. The valley was from nine to ten miles in length, and from
three to four in breadth. In crossing it, they ascertained that the
lagoon from which the schooner had obtained a supply of water, was
filled by a watercourse that came down its centre. The soil in the
valley was rich, but stony in some parts. There was an abundance of
pasture over the whole, from amongst which they started numerous
kangaroos. The scenery towards the ranges was beautiful and romantic,
and the general appearance of the country such as to delight the whole
party.
Preserving a due east course, Captain Barker passed over the opposite
range of hills, and descended almost immediately into a second valley
that continued to the southwards. Its soil was poor and stony, and it
was covered with low scrub. Crossing it, they ascended the opposite
range, from the summit of which they had a view of Encounter Bay. An
extensive flat stretched from beneath them to the eastward, and was
backed, in the distance, by sand hummocks, and low wooded hills. The
extreme right of the flat rested upon the coast, at a rocky point near
which there were two or three islands. From the left a beautiful valley
opened upon it. A strong and clear rivulet from this valley traversed
the flat obliquely, and fell into the sea at the rocky point, or a
little to the southward of it. The hills forming the opposite side of
the valley had already terminated. Captain Barker, therefore, ascended
to higher ground, and, at length, obtained a view of the Lake
Alexandrina, and the channel of its communication with the sea to the
N.E. He now descended to the flat, and frequently expressed his anxious
wish to Mr. Kent that I had been one of their number to enjoy the
beauty of the scenery around them, and to participate in their labours.
Had fate so ordained it, it is possible the melancholy tragedy that
soon after occurred might have been averted.
OUTLET OF LAKE TO THE SEA.
At the termination of the flat they found themselves upon the banks of
the channel, and close to the sand hillock under which my tents had
been pitched. From this point they proceeded along the line of
sand-hills to the outlet; from which it would appear that Kangaroo
Island is not visible, but that the distant point which I mistook for
it was the S.E. angle of Cape Jervis. I have remarked, in describing
that part of the coast, that there is a sand-hill to the eastward of
the inlet, under which the tide runs strong, and the water is deep.
Captain Barker judged the breadth of the channel to be a quarter of a
mile, and he expressed a desire to swim across it to the sand-hill to
take bearings, and to ascertain the nature of the strand beyond it to
the eastward.
It unfortunately happened, that he was the only one of the party who
could swim well, in consequence of which his people remonstrated with
him on the danger of making the attempt unattended. Notwithstanding,
however, that he was seriously indisposed, he stripped, and after Mr.
Kent had fastened his compass on his head for him, he plunged into the
water, and with difficulty gained the opposite side; to effect which
took him nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds. His anxious comrades saw
him ascend the hillock, and take several bearings; he then descended
the farther side, and was never seen by them again.
CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING THE LOSS OF CAPTAIN BARKER.
For a considerable time Mr. Kent remained stationary, in momentary
expectation of his return; but at length, taking the two soldiers with
him, he proceeded along the shore in search of wood for a fire. At
about a quarter of a mile, the soldiers stopped and expressed their
wish to return, as their minds misgave them, and they feared that
Captain Barker had met with some accident. While conversing, they heard
a distant shout, or cry, which Mr. Kent thought resembled the call of
the natives, but which the soldiers positively declared to be the voice
of a white man. On their return to their companions, they asked if any
sounds had caught their ears, to which they replied in the negative.
The wind was blowing from the E.S.E., in which direction Captain Barker
had gone; and, to me, the fact of the nearer party not having heard
that which must have been his cries for assistance, is satisfactorily
accounted for, as, being immediately under the hill, the sounds must
have passed over their heads to be heard more distinctly at the
distance at which Mr. Kent and the soldiers stood. It is more than
probable, that while his men were expressing their anxiety about him,
the fearful tragedy was enacting which it has become my painful task to
detail.
Evening closed in without any signs of Captain Barker's return, or any
circumstance by which Mr. Kent could confirm his fears that he had
fallen into the hands of the natives. For, whether it was that the
tribe which had shown such decided hostility to me when on the coast
had not observed the party, none made their appearance; and if I except
two, who crossed the channel when Mr. Kent was in search of wood, they
had neither seen nor heard any; and Captain Barker's enterprising
disposition being well known to his men, hopes were still entertained
that he was safe. A large fire was kindled, and the party formed a
silent and anxious group around it. Soon after night-fall, however,
their attention was roused by the sounds of the natives, and it was at
length discovered, that they had lighted a chain of small fires between
the sand-hill Captain Barker had ascended and the opposite side of the
channel, around which their women were chanting their melancholy dirge.
It struck upon the ears of the listeners with an ominous thrill, and
assured them of the certainty of the irreparable loss they had
sustained. All night did those dismal sounds echo along that lonely
shore, but as morning dawned, they ceased, and Mr. Kent and his
companions were again left in anxiety and doubt. They, at length,
thought it most advisable to proceed to the schooner to advise with
Doctor Davies. They traversed the beach with hasty steps, but did not
get on board till the following day. It was then determined to procure
assistance from the sealers on Kangaroo Island, as the only means by
which they could ascertain their leader's fate, and they accordingly
entered American Harbour. For a certain reward, one of the men agreed
to accompany Mr. Kent to the main with a native woman, to communicate
with the tribe that was supposed to have killed him. They landed at or
near the rocky point of Encounter Bay, where they were joined by two
other natives, one of whom was blind. The woman was sent forward for
intelligence, and on her return gave the following details:
ACCOUNT OF HIS MURDER.
It appears that at a very considerable distance from the first
sand-hill, there is another to which Captain Barker must have walked,
for the woman stated that three natives were going to the shore from
their tribe, and that they crossed his tract. Their quick perception
immediately told them it was an unusual impression. They followed upon
it, and saw Captain Barker returning. They hesitated for a long time to
approach him, being fearful of the instrument he carried. At length,
however, they closed upon him. Capt. Barker tried to soothe them, but
finding that they were determined to attack him, he made for the water
from which he could not have been very distant. One of the blacks
immediately threw his spear and struck him in the hip. This did not,
however, stop him. He got among the breakers, when he received the
second spear in the shoulder. On this, turning round, he received a
third full in the breast: with such deadly precision do these savages
cast their weapons. It would appear that the third spear was already on
its flight when Capt. Barker turned, and it is to be hoped, that it was
at once mortal. He fell on his back into the water. The natives then
rushed in, and dragging him out by the legs, seized their spears, and
indicted innumerable wounds upon his body; after which, they threw it
into deep water, and the sea-tide carried it away.
HIS CHARACTER.
Such, we have every reason to believe, was the untimely fate of this
amiable and talented man. It is a melancholy satisfaction to me thus
publicly to record his worth; instrumental, as I cannot but in some
measure consider my last journey to have been in leading to this fatal
catastrophe. Captain Barker was in disposition, as he was in the close
of his life, in many respects similar to Captain Cook. Mild, affable,
and attentive, he had the esteem and regard of every companion, and the
respect of every one under him. Zealous in the discharge of his public
duties, honourable and just in private life; a lover and a follower of
science; indefatigable and dauntless in his pursuits; a steady friend,
an entertaining companion; charitable, kind-hearted, disinterested, and
sincere--the task is equally difficult to find adequate expressions of
praise or of regret. In him the king lost one of his most valuable
officers, and his regiment one of its most efficient members. Beloved
as he was, the news of his loss struck his numerous friends with
sincere grief, but by none was it more severely felt than by the humble
individual who has endeavoured thus feebly to draw his portrait.
From the same source from which the particulars of his death were
obtained, it was reported that the natives who perpetrated the deed
were influenced by no other motive than curiosity to ascertain if they
had power to kill a white man. But we must be careful in giving credit
to this, for it is much more probable that the cruelties exercised by
the sealers towards the blacks along the south coast, may have
instigated the latter to take vengeance on the innocent as well as on
the guilty. It will be seen, by a reference to the chart, that Captain
Barker, by crossing the channel, threw himself into the very hands of
that tribe which had evinced such determined hostility to myself and my
men. He got into the rear of their strong hold, and was sacrificed to
those feelings of suspicion, and to that desire of revenge, which the
savages never lose sight of until they have been gratified.
FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY, AND CAPABILITIES OF THE COAST.
It yet remains for me to state that when Mr. Kent returned to the
schooner, after this irreparable loss, he kept to the south of the
place at which he had crossed the first range with Captain Barker, and
travelled through a valley right across the promontory. He thus
discovered that there was a division in the ranges, through which there
was a direct and level road from the little bay on the northern
extremity of which they had last landed in St. Vincent's Gulf, to the
rocky point of Encounter Bay. The importance of this fact will be
better estimated, when it is known that good anchorage is secured to
small vessels inside the island that lies off the point of Encounter
Bay, which is rendered still safer by a horse shoe reef that forms, as
it were, a thick wall to break the swell of the sea. But this anchorage
is not safe for more than five months in the year. Independently of
these points, however, Mr. Kent remarks, that the spit a little to the
north of Mount Lofty would afford good shelter to minor vessels under
its lee. When the nature of the country is taken into consideration,
and the facility of entering that which lies between the ranges and the
Lake Alexandrina, from the south, and of a direct communication with
the lake itself, the want of an extensive harbour will, in some
measure, be compensated for, more especially when it is known that
within four leagues of Cape Jervis, a port little inferior to Port
Jackson, with a safe and broad entrance, exists at Kangaroo Island. The
sealers have given this spot the name of American Harbour. In it, I am
informed, vessels are completely land-locked, and secure from every
wind. Kangaroo Island is not, however, fertile by any means. It abounds
in shallow lakes filled with salt water during high tides, and which,
by evaporation, yield a vast quantity of salt.
I gathered from the sealers that neither the promontory separating St.
Vincent from Spencer's Gulf, nor the neighbourhood of Port Lincoln, are
other than barren and sandy wastes. They all agree in describing Port
Lincoln itself as a magnificent roadstead, but equally agree as to the
sterility of its shores. It appears, therefore, that the promontory of
Cape Jervis owes its superiority to its natural features; in fact, to
the mountains that occupy its centre, to the debris that has been
washed from them, and to the decomposition of the better description of
its rocks. Such is the case at Illawarra, where the mountains approach
the sea; such indeed is the case every where, at a certain distance
from mountain ranges.
ADAPTION OF THIS PART OF THE COUNTRY FOR COLONISATION.
From the above account it would appear that a spot has, at length, been
found upon the south coast of New Holland, to which the colonist might
venture with every prospect of success, and in whose valleys the exile
might hope to build for himself and for his family a peaceful and
prosperous home. All who have ever landed upon the eastern shore of St.
Vincent's Gulf, agree as to the richness of its soil, and the abundance
of its pasture. Indeed, if we cast our eyes upon the chart, and examine
the natural features of the country behind Cape Jervis, we shall no
longer wonder at its differing in soil and fertility from the low and
sandy tracks that generally prevail along the shores of Australia.
Without entering largely into the consideration of the more remote
advantages that would, in all human probability, result from the
establishment of a colony, rather than a penal settlement, at St.
Vincent's Gulf, it will be expedient to glance hastily over the
preceding narrative, and, disengaging it from all extraneous matter, to
condense, as much as possible, the information it contains respecting
the country itself; for I have been unable to introduce any passing
remark, lest I should break the thread of an interesting detail.
The country immediately behind Cape Jervis may, strictly speaking, be
termed a promontory, bounded to the west by St. Vincent's Gulf, and to
the east by the lake Alexandrina, and the sandy track separating that
basin from the sea. Supposing a line to be drawn from the parallel of
34 degrees 40 minutes to the eastward, it will strike the Murray river
about 25 miles above the head of the lake, and will clear the ranges,
of which Mount Lofty and Mount Barker are the respective terminations.
This line will cut off a space whose greatest breadth will be 55 miles,
whose length from north to south will be 75, and whose surface exceeds
7 millions of acres; from which if we deduct 2 millions for the
unavailable hills, we shall have 5 millions of acres of land, of rich
soil, upon which no scrub exists, and whose most distant points are
accessible, through a level country on the one hand, and by water on
the other. The southern extremity of the ranges can be turned by that
valley through which Mr. Kent returned to the schooner, after Captain
Barker's death. It is certain, therefore, that this valley not only
secures so grand a point, but also presents a level line of
communication from the small bay immediately to the north of the cape,
to the rocky point of Encounter Bay, at both of which places there is
safe anchorage at different periods of the year.
HINTS FOR FUTURE EXPEDITIONS.
The only objection that can be raised to the occupation of this spot,
is the want of an available harbour. Yet it admits of great doubt
whether the contiguity of Kangaroo Island to Cape Jervis, (serving as
it does to break the force of the prevailing winds, as also of the
heavy swell that would otherwise roll direct into the bay,) and the
fact of its possessing a safe and commodious harbour, certainly at an
available distance, does not in a great measure remove the objection.
Certain it is that no port, with the exception of that on the shores of
which the capital of Australia is situated, offers half the convenience
of this, although it be detached between three and four leagues from
the main.
On the other hand it would appear, that there is no place from which at
any time the survey of the more central parts of the continent could be
so effectually carried on; for in a country like Australia, where the
chief obstacle to be apprehended in travelling is the want of water,
the facilities afforded by the Murray and its tributaries, are
indisputable; and I have little doubt that the very centre of the
continent might be gained by a judicious and enterprising expedition.
Certainly it is most desirable to ascertain whether the river I have
supposed to be the Darling be really so or not. I have stated my
objection to depots, but I think that if a party commenced its
operations upon the Murray from the junction upwards, and, after
ascertaining the fact of its ultimate course, turned away to the N.W.
up one of the tributaries of the Murray, with a supply of six months'
provisions, the results would be of the most satisfactory kind, and the
features of the country be wholly developed. I cannot, I think,
conclude this work better than by expressing a hope, that the Colonial
Government will direct such measures to be adopted as may be necessary
for the extension of our geographical knowledge in Australia. The
facilities of fitting out expeditions in New South Wales, render the
expenses of little moment, when compared with the importance of the
object in view; and although I am labouring under the effects of former
attempts, yet would I willingly give such assistance as I could to
carry such an object into effect.
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX No. I.
GEOLOGICAL SPECIMENS FOUND TO THE SOUTH-WEST OF PORT JACKSON.
Considering the nature of the country over which the first expedition
travelled, it could hardly have been expected that its geological
specimens would be numerous. It will appear, however, from the
following list of rocks collected during the second expedition, that
the geological formation of the mountains to the S.W. of Port Jackson
is as various as that to the N.W. of it is mountainous. The specimens
are described not according to their natural order, but in the
succession in which they were found, commencing from Yass Plains, and
during the subsequent stages of the journey.
Sandstone, Old Red.--Found on various parts of Yass Plains, in contact
with
Limestone, Transition.--Colour dark grey; composes the bed of the Yass
River, and apparently traverses the sandstone formation. Yass Plains
lie 170 miles to the S.W. of Sydney.
Sandstone, Old Red.--Again succeeds the limestone, and continues to the
N.W. to a considerable distance over a poor and scrubby country,
covered for the most part with a dwarf species of Eucalyptus.
Granite.--Colour grey; feldspar, black mica, and quartz: succeeds the
sandstone, and continues to the S.W. as far as the Morumbidgee River,
over an open forest country broken into hill and dale. It is generally
on these granite rocks that the best grazing is found.
Greywacke.--Colour grey, of light hue, or dark, with black specks.
Soft.--Composition of a part of the ranges that form the valley of the
Morumbidgee.
Serpentine.--Colour green of different shades, striped sulphur yellow;
slaty fracture, soft and greasy to the touch. Forms hills of moderate
elevation, of peculiarly sharp spine, resting on quartz. Composition of
most of the ranges opposite the Doomot River on the Morumbidgee, in
lat. 35 degrees 4 minutes and long. 147 degrees 40 minutes.
Quartz.--Colour snow-white; formation of the higher ranges on the left
bank of the Morumbidgee, in the same latitude and longitude as above;
showing in large blocks on the sides of the hills.
Slaty Quartz, with varieties.--Found with the quartz rock, in a state
of decomposition.
Granite.--Succeeds the serpentine, of light colour; feldspar
decomposed; mica, glittering and silvery white.
Sandstone, Old Red.--Composition of the more distant ranges on the
Morumbidgee. Forms abrupt precipices over the river flats; of sterile
appearance, and covered with Banksias and scrub.
Mica Slate.--Colour dark brown, approaching red; mica glittering. The
hills enclosing Pondebadgery Plain at the gorge of the valley of the
Morumbidgee, are composed of this rock. They are succeeded by
Sandstone.--Which rises abruptly from the river in perpendicular
cliffs, of 145 feet in height.
Jasper and quartz.--Colour red and white. Forms the slope of the above
sandstone, and may be considered the outermost of the rocks connected
with the Eastern or Blue Mountain Ranges. It will be remembered that
jasper and quartz were likewise found on a plain near the Darling
River, precisely similar to the above, although occurring at so great a
distance from each other.
Granite.--Light red colour; composition of a small isolated hill, to
all appearance wholly unconnected with the neighbouring ranges. This
specimen is very similar to that found in the bed of New-Year's Creek.
Breccia.--Silicious cement, composed of a variety of pebbles. Formation
of the most WESTERLY of the hills between the Lachlan and Macquarie
Rivers. This conglomerate was also found to compose the minor and most
westerly of the elevations of the more northern interior.
Chrystallised Sulphate of Lime.--Found embedded in the deep alluvial
soil in the banks of the Morumbidgee River, in lat. 34 degrees 30
minutes S., and long. 144 degrees 55 minutes E. The same substance was
found on the banks of the Darling, in lat. 29 degrees 49 minutes S.,
and in long. 145 degrees 18 minutes E.
A reference to the chart will show that the Morumbidgee, from the first
of the above positions, may be said to have entered the almost dead
level of the interior. No elevation occurs to the westward for several
hundreds of miles. A coarse grit occasionally traversed the beds of the
rivers, and their lofty banks of clay or marl appear to be based on
sandstone and granitic sand. The latter occurs in slabs of four inches
in thickness, divided by a line of saffron-coloured sand, and seems to
have been subjected to fusion, as if the particles or grains had been
cemented together by fusion.
The first decided break that takes place in the level of the interior
occurs upon the right bank of the Murray, a little below the junction
of the Rufus with it. A cliff of from 120 to 130 feet in perpendicular
elevation here flanks the river for about 200 yards, when it recedes
from it, and forms a spacious amphitheatre that is occupied by
semicircular hillocks, that partake of the same character as the cliff
itself; the face of which showed the various substances of which it was
composed in horizontal lines, that if prolonged would cut the same
substance in the hillocks. Based upon a soft white sandstone, a bed of
clay formed the lowest part of the cliff; upon this bed of clay, a bed
of chalk reposed; this chalk was superseded by a thick bed of
saponaceous earth, whilst the summit of the cliff was composed of a
bright red sand. Semi-opal and hydrate of silex were found in the
chalk, and some beautiful specimens of brown menelite were collected
from the upper stratum of the cliff.
A little below this singular place, the country again declines, when a
tertiary fossil formation shows itself, which, rising gradually as an
inclined plain, ultimately attains an elevation of 300 feet. This
formation continues to the very coast, since large masses of the rock
were observed in the channel of communication between the lake and the
ocean; and the hills to the left of the channel were based upon it.
This great bank cannot, therefore, average less than from seventy to
ninety miles in width. At its commencement, it strikingly resembled
skulls piled one on the other, as well in colour as appearance. This
effect had been produced by the constant rippling of water against the
rock. The softer parts had been washed away, and the shells (a bed of
Turritella) alone remained.
Plate 1, Figures 1, 2, and 3, represent the selenite formation.
Plate 2, represents a mass of the rock containing numerous kinds of
shells, of which the following are the most conspicuous:
Cardium
Pectunculus
Corbula
Arca
Conus, and
Others unknown.
* * *
The following is a list of the fossils collected from various parts of
this formation, from which it is evident that a closer examination
would lead to the discovery of numberless species.
TUNICATA.
PLATE III.
FIG.1 Eschara celleporacea.
2 ------- piriformis.
3 ------- UNNAMED.
FIG.4 Cellepora echinata.
5 --------- escharoides?
6 Retepora disticha.
7 -------- vibicata.
8 Glauconome rhombifera.
All Tertiary in Westphalia and England.
RADIATA
9 Scutella.
10 Spatangus Hoffmanni--Goldfuss.
Tertiary, in Westphalia.
11 Echinus.
CONCHIFERA--BIVALVED SHELLS.
Corbula gallica--Paris basin--Tertiary.
Tellina?
Corbis lamellosa--Tertiary--Paris.
Lucina.
Venus (Cytherea) laevigata--ibid.
----- ---------- obliqua --ibid.
Venus
Cardium?--fragments.
12 Nucula--such is found in London clay.
13 Pecten coarctatus?--Placentia.
------ various?--recent.
14 ------ species unknown.
Two other Pectens also occur.
Ostrea elongata--Deshayes.
15 Terebratula.
16 One cast, genus unknown, perhaps a Cardium.
MOLUSCA--UNIVALVED SHELLS.
Bulla? Plate II., fig. 2.
FIG.17 Natica--small.
18 ------ large species.
Dentalium?
19 Trochus.
20 Turritella.
---------- in gyps.
21 Murex.
22 Buccinum?
23 Mitra.
24 ----- very short.
25 Cypraea.
26 Conus.
27 ----- (Plate II., fig. 3.)
28 Two, unknown, (Also Plate II, fig. 4.)
The above all appear to belong to the newer tertiary formations.
[Fig.17 to 27--These genera are scarcely ever, and some of them not at
all, found in any but tertiary formations.]
A block of coarse red granite forms an island in the centre of the
river near the lake, but is nowhere else visible, although it is very
probably the basis of the surrounding country.
ROCK FORMATION OF THE COAST RANGE OF ST. VINCENT'S GULF.
Primitive Transition Limestone.--Light grey, striped. Altered in
appearance by volcanic action; occurs on the Ranges north of Cape
Jervis.
Granite.--Colour, red; found on the west side of Encounter Bay.
Brown Spar.--South point of Cape Jervis.
Sandstone, Old Red.--East coast of St. Vincent's Gulf.
Limestone, Transition.--Colour, blue. East Coast of St. Vincent's Gulf.
Formation near the first inlet. Continuing to the base of the Ranges.
Clay Slate.--Composition of the lower part of the Mount Lofty Range.
Granite.--Fine grained, red; forms the higher parts of the Mount Lofty
Range.
Quartz, with Tourmaline.--Lower parts of the Mount Lofty Range.
Limestone Flustra, and their Corallines, probably tertiary.--From the
mouth of the Sturt, on the coast line, nearly abreast of Mount Lofty.
APPENDIX No. II.
OFFICIAL REPORT TO THE COLONIAL GOVERNMENT.
* * * * *
GOVERNMENT ORDER.
Colonial Secretary's Office, Sydney,
May 10, 1830.
His Excellency the Governor has much satisfaction in publishing the
following report of the proceedings of an expedition undertaken for the
purpose of tracing the course of the river "Morumbidgee," and of
ascertaining whether it communicated with the coast forming the
southern boundary of the colony.
The expedition, which was placed under the direction of Captain Sturt,
of his Majesty's 39th Regiment, commenced its progress down the
"Morumbidgee" on the 7th day of January last, having been occupied
twenty-one days in performing the journey from Sydney.
On the 14th January they entered a new river running from east to west,
now called the "Murray," into which the "Morumbidgee" flows.
After pursuing the course of the "Murray" for several days, the
expedition observed another river (supposed to be that which Captain
Sturt discovered on his former expedition), uniting with the "Murray"
which they examined about five miles above the junction.
The expedition again proceeded down the "Murray," and fell in with
another of its tributaries flowing from the south east, which Captain
Sturt has designated the "Lindesay;" and on the 8th February the
"Murray" was found to enter or form a lake, of from fifty to sixty
miles in length, and from thirty to forty in breadth, lying immediately
to the eastward of gulf St. Vincent, and extending to the southward, to
the shore of "Encounter Bay."
Thus has Captain Sturt added largely, and in a highly important degree,
to the knowledge previously possessed of the interior.
His former expedition ascertained the fate of the rivers Macquarie and
Castlereagh, on which occasion he also discovered a river which, there
is every reason to believe, is, in ordinary seasons, of considerable
magnitude.
Should this, as Captain Sturt supposes, prove to be the same river as
that above-mentioned, as uniting with the "Murray," the existence of an
interior water communication for several hundreds of miles, extending
from the northward of "Mount Harris," down to the southern coast of the
colony, will have been established.
It is to be regretted, that circumstances did not permit of a more
perfect examination of the lake, (which has been called "Alexandrina"),
as the immediate vicinage of Gulf St. Vincent furnishes a just ground
of hope that a more practicable and useful communication may be
discovered in that direction, than the channel which leads into
"Encounter Bay."
The opportunity of recording a second time the services rendered to the
colony by Captain Sturt, is as gratifying to the government which
directed the undertaking, as it is creditable to the individual who so
successfully conducted it to its termination.--It is an additional
cause of satisfaction to add, that every one, according to his sphere
of action, has a claim to a proportionate degree of applause. All were
exposed alike to the same privations and fatigue, and every one
submitted with patience, manifesting the most anxious desire for the
success of the expedition. The zeal of Mr. George M'Leay, the companion
of Captain Sturt, when example was so important, could not fail to have
the most salutary effect; and the obedience, steadiness, and good
conduct of the men employed, merit the highest praise.
By his Excellency's command,
ALEXANDER M'LEAY.
* * * * *
BANKS OF THE MORUMBIDGEE, APRIL 20TH, 1830.
SIR,--The departure of Mr. George M'Leay for Sydney, who is anxious to
proceed homewards as speedily as possible, affords me an earlier
opportunity than would otherwise have presented itself, by which to
make you acquainted with the circumstance of my return, under the
divine protection, to the located districts; and I do myself the honour
of annexing a brief account of my proceedings since the last
communication for the information of His Excellency the Governor, until
such time as I shall have it in my power to give in a more detailed
report.
On the 7th of January, agreeably to the arrangements which had been
made, I proceeded down the Morumbidgee in the whale boat, with a
complement of six hands, independent of myself and Mr. M'Leay, holding
the skiff in tow. The river, for several days, kept a general W.S.W.
course; it altered little in appearance, nor did any material change
take place in the country upon its banks. The alluvial flats had
occasionally an increased breadth on either side of it, but the line of
reeds was nowhere so extensive as from previous appearances I had been
led to expect. About twelve miles from the depot, we passed a large
creek junction from the N.E. which, from its locality and from the
circumstance of my having been upon it in the direction of them, I
cannot but conclude originates in the marshes of the Lachlan.
On the 11th, the Morumbidgee became much encumbered with fallen timber,
and its current was at times so rapid that I was under considerable
apprehension for the safety of the boats. The skiff had been upset on
the 8th, and, although I could not anticipate such an accident to the
large boat, I feared she would receive some more serious and
irremediable injury. On the 14th, these difficulties increased upon
us.--The channel of the river became more contracted, and its current
more impetuous. We had no sooner cleared one reach, than fresh and
apparently insurmountable dangers presented themselves to us in the
next. I really feared that every precaution would have proved
unavailing against such multiplied embarrassments, and that ere night
we should have possessed only the wrecks of the expedition. From this
state of anxiety, however, we were unexpectedly relieved, by our
arrival at 2 p.m. at the termination of the Morumbidgee; from which we
were launched into a broad and noble river, flowing from E. to W. at
the rate of two and a half knots per hour, over a clear and sandy bed,
of a medium width of from three to four hundred feet.
During the first stages of our journey upon this new river, which
evidently had its rise in the mountains of the S.E., we made rapid
progress to the W.N.W. through an unbroken and uninteresting country of
equal sameness of feature and of vegetation. On the 23rd, as the boats
were proceeding down it, several hundreds of natives made their
appearance upon the right bank, having assembled with premeditated
purposes of violence. I was the more surprised at this show of
hostility, because we had passed on general friendly terms, not only
with those on the Morumbidgee, but of the new river. Now, however,
emboldened by numbers, they seemed determined on making the first
attack, and soon worked themselves into a state of frenzy by loud and
vehement shouting. As I observed that the water was shoaling fast, I
kept in the middle of the stream; and, under an impression that it
would be impossible for me to avoid a conflict, prepared for an
obstinate resistance. But, at the very moment when, having arrived
opposite to a large sand bank, on which they had collected, the
foremost of the blacks had already advanced into the water, and I only
awaited their nearer approach to fire upon them, their impetuosity was
restrained by the most unlooked for and unexpected interference. They
held back of a sudden, and allowed us to pass unmolested. The boat,
however, almost immediately grounded on a shoal that stretched across
the river, over which she was with some difficulty hauled into deeper
water,--when we found ourselves opposite to a large junction from the
eastward, little inferior to the river itself. Had I been aware of this
circumstance, I should have been the more anxious with regard to any
rupture with the natives, and I was now happy to find that most of them
had laid aside their weapons and had crossed the junction, it appearing
that they had previously been on a tongue of land formed by the two
streams. I therefore landed among them to satisfy their curiosity and
to distribute a few presents before I proceeded up it. We were obliged
to use the four oars to stem the current against us; but, as soon as we
had passed the mouth, got into deeper water, and found easier pulling,
The parallel in which we struck it, and the direction from which it
came, combined to assure me that this could be no other than the
"Darling." To the distance of two miles it retained a breadth of one
hundred yards and a depth of twelve feet. Its banks were covered with
verdure, and the trees overhanging them were of finer and larger growth
than those on the new river by which we had approached it. Its waters
had a shade of green, and were more turbid than those of its
neighbours, but they were perfectly sweet to the taste.
Having satisfied myself on those points on which I was most anxious, we
returned to the junction to examine it more closely.
The angle formed by the Darling with the new river is so acute, that
neither can be said to be tributary to the other; but more important
circumstances, upon which it is impossible for me to dwell at the
present moment, mark them as distinct rivers, which have been formed by
Nature for the same purposes, in remote and opposite parts of the
island. Not having as yet given a name to the latter, I now availed
myself of the opportunity of complying with the known wishes of His
Excellency the Governor, and, at the same time, in accordance with my
own feelings as a soldier I distinguished it by that of the "Murray."
It had been my object to ascertain the decline of the vast plain
through which the Murray flows, that I might judge of the probable fall
of the waters of the interior; but by the most attentive observation I
could not satisfy myself upon the point. The course of the Darling now
confirmed my previous impression that it was to the south, which
direction it was evident the Murray also, in the subsequent stages of
our journey down it, struggled to preserve; from which it was thrown by
a range of minor elevations into a more westerly one. We were carried
as far as 139 degrees 40 minutes of longitude, without descending below
34 degrees in point of latitude; in consequence of which I expected
that the river would ultimately discharge itself, either into St.
Vincent's Gulf or that of Spencer, more especially as lofty ranges were
visible in the direction of them from the summit of the hills behind
our camp, on the 2nd of February, which I laid down as the coast line
bounding them.
A few days prior to the 2nd of February, we passed under some cliffs of
partial volcanic origin, and had immediately afterwards entered a
limestone country of the most singular formation. The river, although
we had passed occasional rapids of the most dangerous kind, had
maintained a sandy character from our first acquaintance with it to the
limestone division. It now forced itself through a glen of that rock of
half a mile in width, frequently striking precipices of more than two
hundred feet perpendicular elevation, in which coral and fossil remains
were plentifully embedded. On the 3rd February it made away to the
eastward of south, in reaches of from two to four miles in length. It
gradually lost its sandy bed, and became deep, still, and turbid; the
glen expanded into a valley, and the alluvial flats, which had hitherto
been of inconsiderable size, became proportionally extensive. The
Murray increased in breadth to more than four hundred yards, with a
depth of twenty feet of water close into the shore, and in fact formed
itself into a safe and navigable stream for any vessels of the minor
class. On the 6th the cliffs partially ceased, and on the 7th they gave
place to undulating and picturesque hills, beneath which thousands of
acres of the richest flats extended, covered, however, with reeds, and
apparently subject to overflow at any unusual rise of the river.
It is remarkable that the view from the hills was always confined.--We
were apparently running parallel to a continuation of the ranges we had
seen on the 2nd, but they were seldom visible. The country generally
seemed darkly wooded, and had occasional swells upon it, but it was one
of no promise; the timber, chiefly box and pine, being of a poor
growth, and its vegetation languid. On the 8th the hills upon the left
wore a bleak appearance, and the few trees upon them were cut down as
if by the prevailing winds. At noon we could not observe any land at
the extremity of a reach we had just entered; some gentle hills still
continued to form the left lank of the river, but the right was hid
from us by high reeds. I consequently landed to survey the country from
the nearest eminence, and found that we were just about to enter an
extensive lake which stretched away to the S.W., the line of water
meeting the horizon in that direction. Some tolerably lofty ranges were
visible to the westward at the distance of forty miles, beneath which
that shore was lost in haze. A hill, which I prejudged to be Mount
Lofty, bearing by compass S. 141 degrees W. More to the northward, the
country was low and unbacked by any elevations. A bold promontory,
which projected into the lake at the distance of seven leagues, ended
the view to the south along the eastern shore; between which and the
river the land also declined. The prospect altogether was extremely
gratifying, and the lake appeared to be a fitting reservoir for the
whole stream which had led us to it.
In the evening we passed the entrance; but a strong southerly wind
heading us, we did not gain more than nine miles. In the morning it
shifted to the N.E. where we stood out for the promontory on a S.S.W.
course. At noon we were abreast of it, when a line of sand hummocks was
ahead, scarcely visible in consequence of the great refraction about
them; but an open sea behind us from the N.N.W. to the N.N.E. points of
the compass. A meridian altitude observed here, placed us in 35 degrees
25 minutes 15 seconds S. lat.--At 1, I changed our course a little to
the westward, and at 4 p.m. entered an arm of the lake leading W.S.W.
On the point, at the entrance, some natives had assembled, but I could
not communicate with them. They were both painted and armed, and
evidently intended to resist our landing. Wishing, however, to gain
some information from them, I proceeded a short distance below their
haunt, and landed for the night, in hopes that, seeing us peaceably
disposed, they would have approached the tents; but as they kept aloof,
we continued our journey in the morning. The water, which had risen ten
inches during the night, had fallen again in the same proportion, and
we were stopped by shoals shortly after starting. In hopes that the
return of tide would have enabled us to float over them, we waited for
it very patiently, but were ultimately obliged to drag the boat across
a mud-flat of more than a quarter of a mile into deeper water; but,
after a run of about twenty minutes, were again checked by sand banks.
My endeavours to push beyond a certain point were unsuccessful, and I
was at length under the necessity of landing upon the south shore for
the night. Some small hummocks were behind us, on the other side of
which I had seen the ocean from our morning's position; and whilst the
men were pitching the tents, walked over them in company with Mr.
M'Leay to the sea shore, having struck the coast at Encounter Bay, Cape
Jervis, bearing by compass S. 81 degrees W. distant between three and
four leagues, and Kangaroo Island S.E. extremity S. 60 degrees W.
distant from nine to ten.
Thirty-two days had elapsed since we had left the depot, and I
regretted in this stage of our journey, that I could not with prudence
remain an hour longer on the coast than was necessary for me to
determine the exit of the lake. From the angle of the channel on which
we were, a bright sand-hill was visible at about nine miles distance to
the E.S.E.; which, it struck me, was the eastern side of the passage
communicating with the ocean. Having failed in our attempts to proceed
further in the boat, and the appearance of the shoals at low water
having convinced me of the impracticability of it, I determined on an
excursion along the sea-shore to the southward and eastward, in anxious
hopes that it would be a short one; for as we had had a series of winds
from the S.W. which had now changed to the opposite quarter, I feared
we should have to pull across the lake in our way homewards. I left the
camp therefore at an early hour, in company with Mr. M'Leay and Fraser,
and at day-break arrived opposite to the sand-bank I have mentioned.
Between us and it the entrance into the back water ran. The passage is
at all periods of the tide rather more than a quarter of a mile in
width, and is of sufficient depth for a boat to enter, especially on
the off side; but a line of dangerous breakers in the bay will always
prevent an approach to it from the sea, except in the calmest weather,
whilst the bay itself will always be a hazardous place for any vessels
to enter under any circumstances.
Having, however, satisfactorily concluded our pursuit, we retraced our
steps to the camp, and again took the following bearings as we left the
beach, the strand trending E.S.E. 1/2 E.:--
Kangaroo Island, S.E. angle S. 60 degrees W.
Low rocky point of Cape Jervis S. 81 degrees W.
Round Hill in centre of Range S. 164 degrees W.
Camp, distant one mile S. 171 degrees W.
Mount Lofty, distant forty miles N. 9 degrees E.
Before setting sail, a bottle was deposited between four and five feet
deep in a mound of soft earth and shells, close to the spot on which
the tent had stood, which contained a paper of the names of the party,
together with a simple detail of our arrival and departure.
It appeared that the good fortune, which had hitherto attended us was
still to continue, for the wind which had been contrary, chopped round
to the S.W., and ere sunset we were again in the mouth of the river,
having run from fifty to sixty miles under as much canvass as the boat
would bear, and with a heavy swell during the greater part of the day.
The lake which has thus terminated our journey, is from fifty to sixty
miles in length, and from thirty to forty in width. With such an
expanse of water, I am correct in stating its medium depth at four
feet. There is a large bight in it to the S.E. and a beautiful and
extensive bay to the N.W. At about seven miles from the mouth of the
river, its waters are brackish, and at twenty-one miles they are quite
salt, whilst seals frequent the lower parts. Considering this lake to
be of sufficient importance, and in anticipation that its shores will,
during her reign, if not at an earlier period, be peopled by some
portion of her subjects, I have called it, in well-meant loyalty, "The
Lake Alexandrina."
It is remarkable that the Murray has few tributaries below the Darling.
It receives one, however, of considerable importance from the S.E., to
which I have given the name of the "Lindesay," as a mark of respect to
my commanding-officer, and in remembrance of the many acts of kindness
I have received at his hands.
Having dwelt particularly on the nature of the country through which
the expedition has passed in the pages of my journal, it may be
unnecessary for me to enter into any description of it in this place,
further than to observe, that the limestone continued down to the very
coast, and that although the country in the neighbourhood of the Lake
Alexandrina must, from local circumstances, be rich in point of soil,
the timber upon it is of stunted size, and that it appears to have
suffered from drought, though not to the same extent with the eastern
coast. It is evident, however, that its vicinity to high lands does not
altogether exempt it from such periodical visitations; still I have no
doubt that my observations upon it will convince His Excellency the
Governor, that it is well worthy of a closer, and more attentive
examination, than I had it in my power to make.
In a geographical point of view, I am happy to believe that the result
of this expedition has been conclusive; and that, combined with the
late one, it has thrown much light upon the nature of the interior of
the vast Island; that the decline of waters, as far as the parallel of
139 degrees E., is to the south, and that the Darling is to the N.E. as
the Murray is to the S.E. angle of the coast, the main channel by which
the waters of the central ranges are thrown or discharged into one
great reservoir.
Our journey homewards was only remarkable for its labour: in
conclusion, therefore, it remains for me to add that we reached the
depot on the 23rd of March.
Our sugar failed us on the 18th of February, and our salt provisions,
in consequence of the accident which happened to the skiff, on the 8th
of March; so that from the above period we were living on a reduced
ration of flour; and as we took few fish, and were generally
unsuccessful with our guns, the men had seldom more than their bread to
eat.
I regretted to observe that they were daily falling off, and that
although unremitting in their exertions they were well nigh exhausted,
ere we reached the Morumbidgee.
We were from sunrise to five o'clock on the water, and from the day
that we left the depot to that of our return we never rested upon our
oars. We were thirty-nine days gaining the depot from the coast,
against a strong current in both rivers, being seven more than it took
us to go down. From the depot to this station we had seventeen days
hard pulling, making a total of eighty-eight, during which time we
could not have travelled over less than 2000 miles. I was under the
necessity of stopping short on the 10th instant, and of detaching two
men for the drays, which happily arrived on the 17th, on which day our
stock of flour failed us. Had I not adopted this plan, the men would
have become too weak to have pulled up to Pondebadgery, and we should
no doubt have suffered some privations.
This detail will, I am sure, speak more in favour of the men composing
the party than anything I can say. I would most respectfully recommend
them all to His Excellency's notice; and I beg to assure him that,
during the whole of this arduous journey, they were cheerful, zealous,
and obedient. They had many harassing duties to perform, and their
patience and temper were often put to severe trials by the natives, of
whom we could not have seen fewer than 4000 on the Murray alone.
I am to refer His Excellency the Governor to Mr. M'Leay for any more
immediate information he may require,--to whom I stand indebted on many
points--and not less in the anxiety he evinced for the success of the
undertaking, than in the promptitude with which he assisted in the
labours attendant on our return, and his uniform kindness to the men.
I have the honour to subscribe myself,
Sir,
Your most obedient humble Servant,
CHARLES STURT,
Captain of the 39th Regt.
The Hon. the Colonial Secretary.
END OF VOLUME II
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Two Expeditions in the Interior of
Southern Australia, Volume II, by Charles Sturt
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO EXPEDITIONS--SOUTHERN AUSTRALIA ***
***** This file should be named 4329.txt or 4329.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
https://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/2/4329/
Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
https://gutenberg.org/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
[email protected]. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at https://pglaf.org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit https://pglaf.org
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
https://www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
