A Source Book of Australian History Part 5

The river itself is serpentine, the banks clothed with verdure to the water's edge, their general height various, but seldom either more or less than eight or nine feet, inclined or precipitous, as they happen by the bending of the stream to be more or less exposed to the action of the current. On each side of the river is a perpetual succession of lagoons extending generally in length from one to two miles, and about a quarter of a mile in breadth. These, which are situate alternately on each side of the river, within those elbows and projections which are formed by its windings, often for miles together, preclude any approach to its banks. Each of these lagoons was furnished with an inlet from the river and an outlet into it.

In general, the s.p.a.ces between the lagoons and the river are thickly wooded (the trees consisting princ.i.p.ally of the blue gum of a large growth), and are overgrown with vines of various descriptions, and the fern, the peppermint, flax plant, and currajong. The fern, currajong, and the flax flourish here in abundance, and the peppermint plant (which they had not seen in any other part of the country) seems to surpa.s.s, both in odour and taste the species that is generally produced in our gardens.

From the flax-plant the natives, as they afterwards discover, make their fishing-lines and nets for carrying their travelling gear and provisions.

Unable to devise any means of crossing the river, and in hope of discovering some practicable ford, they now commence their progress down the stream, proceed three miles and a half, and then halt. At half-past two they resume their route, but are soon compelled from the continual succession of lagoon and swamp to return to some higher land, about two miles from the river.

[Crossing the river with difficulty, they travelled southwards for four weeks.]

_Thursday, Dec. 16th._--This morning they cross the river or creek without difficulty, the water not taking the cattle more than chest high. They now proceed S.W. by S. through the plains about six miles, when they are struck with an appearance respecting which they cannot decide whether it is that of burning gra.s.s or of distant water.

They now therefore, having altered their course to the south, at four o'clock, have the gratification satisfactorily to determine, that the appearance which had just created so much doubt is that of the latter object, and which leaving the river a short distance, and directing their march from S.W. to SS.W. they soon ascertain to be part of the sea--the so long and ardently desired bourn of their labours. They now again alter their course to south-west and travel six miles in that direction along the sh.o.r.e, over excellent land, but clear of timber. On the downs, or plains to-day they had seen several flocks of emus and wild turkeys. The water near the sh.o.r.e was covered with waterfowl of various descriptions, some of which were new to them, and by the time they had halted for the night, they had procured an ample supply of black swans and ducks. They stopped for the night at seven o'clock in a small wood, at a mile from the beach, but where there was no fresh water, having travelled to-day, they supposed, upwards of twenty miles.

_Friday, Dec. 17th._ They proceed this morning from the beach in a direction about N.N.W. three or four miles in quest of water, when they arrive on the banks of a creek, where they have the good fortune to find abundance of good water and of gra.s.s. Here they remain the day, in order to refresh the cattle, who are not a little in want of this timely relief, more particularly as it is proposed to commence their return to-morrow. This determination of so soon retracing their steps, though it cost them much regret, had become indispensable, not only from the extreme scantiness of their remaining supplies, and the certainty of the many difficulties they would have to encounter, but still more so from consideration that the mere circ.u.mstance of a fall of rain by swelling the streams, might, in the weak and ill-provided state to which the whole party were reduced, render their return altogether impracticable.

(Four weeks' flour at reduced allowance and a small quant.i.ty of tea and sugar, but no animal food; independently of which, the ropes and other material employed for crossing streams were now almost utterly unfit for use.)

THE INTERIOR OF THE CONTINENT.

+Source.+--Expeditions in Australia (Sturt, 1833), Vol. I pp. 1-2, 29, 45, 73, 85-87.

The reedy marshes in which the Lachlan and the Macquarie appeared to end blocked Western exploration until the protracted drought of the twenties convinced Sturt and Hume that they would be pa.s.sable.

Accordingly an expedition was formed which was to solve the long debated problem of the character of the interior.

The year 1826 was remarkable for the commencement of one of those fearful droughts to which we have reason to believe the climate of New South Wales is periodically subject. It continued the two following years with unabated severity. The surface of the earth became so parched up that minor vegetation ceased upon it. Culinary herbs were raised with difficulty, and crops failed even in the most favourable situations.

Settlers drove their flocks and herds to distant tracts for pasture and water, neither remaining for them in the located districts. The interior suffered equally with the coast, and men at length began to despond under so alarming a visitation. It almost appeared as if the Australian sky were never again to be traversed by a cloud.

But, however severe for the colony the seasons had proved, or were likely to prove, it was borne in mind at this critical moment that the wet and swampy state of the interior had alone prevented Mr. Oxley from penetrating further into it in 1818.

The immediate fitting out of an expedition was therefore decided upon, for the express purpose of ascertaining the nature and extent of that basin into which the Macquarie was supposed to fall, and whether connection existed between it and the streams falling westerly. As I had early taken a great interest in the geography of New South Wales, the Governor was pleased to appoint me to the command of this expedition.

_Dec. 3._ The first part of our journey was over rich flats, timbered sufficiently to afford a shade, on which the gra.s.s was luxuriant; but we were obliged to seek open ground, in consequence of the frequent stumbling of the cattle.

We issued, at length, upon a plain, the view across which was as dreary as can be imagined; in many places without a tree, save a few old stumps left by the natives when they fired the timber, some of which were still smoking in different parts of it. Observing some lofty trees at the extremity of the plain, we moved towards them, under an impression that they indicated the river line. But on this exposed spot the sun's rays fell with intense power upon us, and the dust was so minute and penetrating, that I soon regretted having left the shady banks of the river.

_Dec. 31._ I had no inducement to proceed further into the interior. I had been sufficiently disappointed in the termination of this excursion, and the track before me was still less inviting. Nothing but a dense forest, and a level country, existed between me and a distant hill. I had learnt, by experience, that it was impossible to form any opinion of the probable features of so singular a region as that in which I was wandering, from previous appearances, or to expect the same result, as in other countries, from similar causes. In a geographical point of view, my journey had been more successful, and had enabled me to put to rest for ever a question of much previous doubt. I had gained a knowledge of more than 100 miles of the western interior, and had ascertained that no sea, indeed, that little water existed on its surface; and that, although it is flat generally, it still has elevations of considerable magnitude upon it.

Although I had pa.s.sed over much barren ground, I had likewise noticed soil that was far from poor, and the vegetation upon which in ordinary seasons would, I am convinced, have borne a very different aspect.

Yet, upon the whole, the s.p.a.ce I traversed is unlikely to become the haunts of civilized man, or will only become so in isolated spots, as a chain of connection to a more fertile country; if such a country exist to the westward.

[A report of better country to the North induced Sturt to turn in that direction.]

_Jan. 14._ Nothing could exceed in dreariness the appearance of the tracks through which we journeyed on this and the two following days.

The creek on which we depended for a supply of water, gave such alarming indications of a total failure that I at one time had serious thoughts of abandoning my pursuit of it. We pa.s.sed hollow after hollow that had successively dried up, although originally of considerable depth; and, when we at length found water, it was doubtful how far we could make use of it. Sometimes in boiling, it left a sediment nearly equal to half its body; at other times it was so bitter as to be quite unpalatable. That on which we subsisted was sc.r.a.ped up from small puddles, heated by the sun's rays; and so uncertain were we of finding water at the end of the day's journey, that we were obliged to carry a supply on one of the bullocks. There was scarcely a living creature, even of the feathered race, to be seen to break the stillness of the forest. The native dogs alone wandered about, though they had scarcely strength to avoid us; and their melancholy howl, breaking in upon the ear at the dead of night, only served to impress more fully on the mind the absolute loneliness of the desert.

_Jan. 31._ We came upon a creek, but could not decide whether it was the one for which we had been searching, or another. It had flooded-gum growing upon its banks, and, on places apparently subject to flood, a number of tall straight saplings were observed by us. We returned to the camp, after a vain search for water, and were really at a loss what direction next to pursue. The men kept the cattle pretty well together, and, as we were not delayed by any preparations for breakfast, they were saddled and loaded at an early hour. The circ.u.mstance of there having been natives in the neighbourhood, of whom we had seen so few traces of late, a.s.sured me that water was at hand, but in what direction it was impossible to guess. As the path we had observed was leading northerly, we took up that course, and had not proceeded more than a mile upon it, when we suddenly found ourselves on the bank of a n.o.ble river. Such it might in truth be called, where water was scarcely to be found. The party drew up upon a bank that was from forty to forty-five feet above the level of the stream. The channel of the river was from seventy to eighty yards broad, and enclosed an unbroken sheet of water, evidently very deep, and literally covered with pelicans and other wild fowl. Our surprise and delight maybe better imagined than described. Our difficulties seemed to be at an end, for here was a river that promised to reward all our exertions, and which appeared every moment to increase in importance, to our imagination. Coming from the N.E., and flowing to the S.W., it had a capacity of channel that proved that we were as far from its source as from its termination. The paths of the natives on either side of it were like well-trodden roads; and the trees that overhung it were of beautiful and gigantic growth.

Its banks were too precipitous to allow of our watering the cattle, but the men eagerly descended to quench their thirst, which a powerful sun had contributed to increase, nor shall I ever forget the looks of terror and disappointment with which they called out to inform me that the water was so salt as to be unfit to drink! This was, indeed, too true; on tasting it, I found it extremely nauseous, and strongly impregnated with salt, being apparently a mixture of sea and fresh water. Whence this arose, whether from local causes, or from a communication with some inland sea, I know not, but the discovery was certainly a blow for which I was not prepared. Our hopes were annihilated at the moment of their apparent realization. The cup of joy was dashed out of our hands before we had time to raise it to our lips. Notwithstanding this disappointment, we proceeded down the river, and halted at about five miles, being influenced by the goodness of the feed to provide for the cattle as well as circ.u.mstances would permit. They would not drink of the river water, but stood covered in it for many hours, having their noses alone exposed above the stream. Their condition gave me great uneasiness. It was evident they could not long hold out under the excessive thirst, and unless we should procure some fresh water, it would be impossible for us to continue our journey.

Mr. Hume, with his usual perseverance, walked out when the camp was formed; and at a little distance from it, ascended a ridge of pure sand, crowned with cypresses. From this he descended to the westward, and, at length, struck upon the river, where a reef of rocks crossed its channel and formed a dry pa.s.sage from one side to the other; but the bend which the river must have taken appeared to him so singular, that he doubted whether it was the same beside which we had been travelling during the day. Curiosity led him to cross it, when he found a small pond of fresh water on a tongue of land, and immediately afterwards, returned to acquaint me with the welcome tidings. It was too late to move, but we had the prospect of a comfortable breakfast in the morning.

On the 6th February we journeyed again through a barren scrub, although on firmer ground, and pa.s.sed numerous groups of huts. At about eight miles from our last encampment, we came upon the river where its banks were of considerable height. In riding along them Mr. Hume thought he observed a current running, and he called to inform me of the circ.u.mstance. On a closer examination we discovered some springs in the very bed of the river, from which a considerable stream was gushing, and from the incrustation around them, we had no difficulty in guessing at their nature; in fact, they were brine springs, and I collected a quant.i.ty of salt from the brink of them.

After such a discovery we could not hope to keep our position. No doubt the current we had observed on first reaching the river was caused by springs that had either escaped our notice, or were under water. Here was at length a local cause for its saltness that destroyed at once the antic.i.p.ation and hope of our being near its termination, and, consequently, the ardour with which we should have pressed on to decide so interesting a point.

We calculated that we were forty miles from the camp, in a S.W.

direction, a fearful distance under our circ.u.mstances, since we could not hope to obtain relief for two days. Independently, however, of the state of the animals, our spirits were damped by the nature of the country, and the change which had taken place in the soil, upon which it was impossible that water could rest; while the general appearance of the interior showed how much it suffered from drought. On the other hand, although the waters of the river had become worse to the taste, the river itself had increased in size and stretched away to the westward, with all the uniformity of a magnificent ca.n.a.l, and gave every promise of increasing importance; while the pelicans were in such numbers upon it as to be quite dazzling to the eye. Considering, however, that perseverance would only involve us in extricable difficulties, and that it would also be useless to risk the horses, since we had gained a distance to which the bullocks could not have been brought I intimated my intention of giving up the further pursuit of the river, though it was with extreme reluctance that I did so.

As soon as we had bathed and finished our scanty meal, I took the bearings of D'Urban's Group, and found them to be S.58 E. about thirty-three miles distant; and as we mounted our horses, I named the river the "Darling," as a lasting memorial of the respect I bear the Governor.

I should be doing injustice to Mr. Hume and my men if I did not express my conviction that they were extremely unwilling to yield to circ.u.mstances, and that, had I determined on continuing the journey, they would have followed me with cheerfulness, whatever the consequences might have been.

EXPLORATION OF THE EASTERN RIVER SYSTEM

+Source.+--Expeditions in Australia (Sturt, 1833), Vol. II, pp. 6, 8-69, 85-86, 111, 151-187, 204-217, 219.

On his first expedition Sturt had proved that the interior was dry.

He then attempted to find the destination of the Morumbidgee and the Darling. Travelling down the Morumbidgee he discovered the Murray and followed it to its termination, 1829.

_Dec. 27th._ 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 some miles along the river side, but observed in it no signs either of increase or of exhaustion. Everything tended to strengthen my conviction that we were still far from the termination of the river. I was aware that my resolves must be instant, decisive, and immediately acted upon, as on firmness and prompt.i.tude 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 that it appeared to me more than probable that the Morumbidgee would hold its course good 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 further, and that, taking everything into consideration, I had resolved on a bold and desperate measure, that of building the whaleboat, 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.

[Sturt accordingly built the whaleboat and embarked on the river.]

_Jan. 14th._ 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 compa.s.s 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 pa.s.sing. 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 n.o.ble river.

It is impossible for me to describe the effect of so instantaneous a change 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 at 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 n.o.ble 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 to have struck, to the calm which succeeds moments of feverish anxiety, when the dread of danger is succeeded by certainty of escape.

_Jan. 23rd._ Not having as yet given a name to our first discovery, 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.

[They continued their course down the Murray till Feb. 9.]

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.

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 n.o.ble stream that 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. 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 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 sh.o.r.e. 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. 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 of a black vegetable deposit, and although high above the influence the lake had, it was evident, once formed a part of its bed. Thirty-three days had now pa.s.sed over our heads since we left the depot upon the Morumbidgee, twenty-six of which had been pa.s.sed 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.

I took Fraser with me, and, accompanied by M'Leay, crossed the sand-hummocks behind us, and descended to the sea-sh.o.r.e. 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 c.o.c.kles, 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 c.o.c.kles all night long.