Discoveries in Australia Volume II Part 7

After a long rest, we were enabled to move on again slowly in the cool of the evening, along the south bank of the river, followed by one of the native dogs, that differed only from those I had seen on other parts of the coast, in being rather larger.

EMU PLAINS.

Two miles further brought us into a fine open plain, over which two emus were going best pace; we therefore named it in their honour: while the valley to the southward was christened after the Beagle, and the ranges on either side bore the names of her former and present commander: those to the north-east and south-west were called, after the officers who accompanied me, Forsyth and Bynoe Ranges. The soil on Emu Plains was far superior to any we had seen since leaving the boat, and was lightly and picturesquely timbered with the white gum. We were very cautious in choosing our sleeping berth for the night, to avoid a surprise during the dark; we therefore selected a friendly hollow beneath the stem of a straggling and drooping old gumtree, large enough to conceal the whole party, near the centre of a great patch of pebbles, with the river, on one side, within a hundred yards of us, and on the other, distant about three hundred.

Those who are practically conversant with such positions as this, will readily call to mind what a safeguard from any nightly approach was afforded by the loose pebbles that surrounded us, upon which not even the unshod foot of a native could fall without so much of accompanying noise as would serve to put the watch with his ear to the ground upon the qui vive: this was proved to be the case during the night, when we distinctly heard the footsteps of the prowling savages. We had no squall, and except this interruption, the howling of native dogs, and the shrill peculiar whistle of a flock of vampires constantly flying backwards and forwards over our heads, we slept in peace in our comfortable little retreat.

UPWARD COURSE OF THE VICTORIA.

Our last regretful view of this part of the Victoria--for every member of our little band seemed to feel an equal interest in the subject--was taken from a position in lat.i.tude 15 degrees 36 minutes and longitude 130 degrees 52 minutes East; 140 miles distant from the sea: but still 500 miles from the centre of Australia. Its apparent direction continued most invitingly from the southward--the very line to the heart of this vast land, whose unknown interior has afforded so much scope for ingenious speculation, and which at one time I had hoped, that it was reserved for us to do yet more in reducing to certainty. And though from the point upon which I stood to pay it my last lingering farewell, the nearest reach of water was itself invisible, yet far, far away I could perceive the green and glistening valleys through which it wandered, or rather amid which it slept; and the refreshing verdure of which a.s.sured me, just as convincingly as actual observation could have done, of the constant presence of a large body of water; and left an indelible impression upon my mind, which subsequent consideration has only served to deepen, that the Victoria will afford a certain pathway far into the centre of that country, of which it is one of the largest known rivers.

When I had at length most reluctantly made up my mind that all further progress along the banks of the Victoria must be abandoned, I left the spot of our temporary encampment, and proceeded alone a short distance in the direction of the interior; as though partly to atone, by that single and solitary walk towards the object of my eager speculation, for the grievous disappointment I experienced at being compelled to return. It was something, even by this short distance, to precede my companions in the exciting work of discovery--to tread alone the solitary glades upon which, till now, no native of the civilized West had set his foot--and to muse in solemn and unbroken silence upon the ultimate results of the work to which the last few days had been devoted--to mark the gradual but certain progression of civilization and christianity--and to breathe forth, unwitnessed and uninterrupted, the scarce coherent words of thankful adoration for the providential care which had hitherto sustained and directed us.

RETURN HOMEWARDS.

November 12.

I found our invalid so much recovered to-day, that I determined on making a short march homewards in the cool of the early morning. We reached Tortoise Reach by 8 o'clock A.M. where we pa.s.sed the day. During our morning's walk I again had the luck to knock over a kangaroo. It was a female, and had a very young one in its pouch. It is worthy of remark that most of those I killed were does, with young ones of different ages, which afforded Mr. Bynoe the means of making some interesting observations on the manner in which they are brought forth, which will be found further on in the part of the work relating to Houtman's Abrolhos, where more opportunities occurred of arriving at a satisfactory result.

Mr. Bynoe added here to his collection of birds, to which also, I was so fortunate as to be able to contribute a beautiful specimen of a rifle-green glossy ibis, common in Europe. I tried the water with a very roughly manufactured fly: the fish rose repeatedly at it, though there was scarcely a ripple, and notwithstanding my own want of success under these unpropitious circ.u.mstances, I feel perfectly satisfied that with proper tackle, and on a favourable day, this prince of sports might be enjoyed on the Victoria.

WICKHAM HEIGHTS.

I availed myself of the opportunity of our halt at this place to wash my only suit, piece by piece, and afterwards made a sketch of the north-eastern part of Wickham Heights from the dry flat in the reach. The woodcut annexed will convey at once to the reader, those singular features in the hills--the low line of cliffs resembling fortifications near their summit, and, still more remarkable, the horizontal black streaks near their base.

NEW TORTOISE.

We here found the back-sh.e.l.l of one of the largest of the water-tortoises, from which the reach was named. It measured ten inches, was very narrow at the fore part, where the continuous line of the margin was broken by an arch where the head protrudes, and was much expanded posteriorly. It resembled greatly the Chelidona oblonga, inhabiting Western Australia, with the exception of the arch and its more oval shape; and as in that kind, the last vertebral plate was divided by a suture. A sh.e.l.l of a Victoria River tortoise has been deposited in the British Museum. We here noticed many varieties of turbinated sh.e.l.ls, and among them a small buccinum; beside mussels. At a native fireplace I saw heaps of the latter, as well as the bones of young alligators; portions of the jaws with teeth were picked up.

The temperature during the day ranged from 90 to 105 degrees in the shade. A light breeze from north-west in the evening succeeded a long calm. Before sunset I got a peep at the eastern side of a valley, before noticed, in the direction of our route back, and felt convinced that by crossing it we should avoid Thirsty Flat, and shorten the route to the boats.

LUCKY VALLEY.

November 13.

Our walk this morning fully realized all my expectations of the preceding evening, for by 8 o'clock A.M. we reached the dining place of the second day. To record the satisfaction we felt in escaping a second journey over Thirsty Flat, by following the valley we had seen yesterday evening, we named it Lucky Valley. After a brief halt, we pushed on, and by eleven, were at our old quarters in Mussel Bend. We heard the voices of natives in all directions, far and near, and as I found the party still astonishingly fresh, and eager to proceed, I thought it best to keep going. We therefore continued our journey, and just before dark reached the spot where we had dined the first day. Here, however, the cheerful excitement of our pleasant and shady walk through Lucky Valley having gone off, the men felt the effects of their long day's march, and were all more or less knocked up.

RACE WITH A NATIVE.

Near the river, as we were approaching our intended bivouac, we came upon a native walking leisurely across the plain, and so intently occupied in poising and straightening his spear, and fixing it in the throwing stick, that he allowed me, being in advance of the rest, to get within sixty yards of him: I then loudly hailed him. He cast one look of utter and indescribable astonishment at the strange being who thus interrupted his pathway over his native soil, and was off at the top of his speed. Little antic.i.p.ating that I should soon have to test in earnest the fleetness of these people, I tried rates with him for a short distance, and remarked, with surprise, that he had not that superiority of speed which might have been expected. Perhaps fright deprived him of his full powers, for what must have been his sensations on finding himself almost cut off by a party of beings whose very existence was till then unknown to him? I have since half regretted that I did not see how much nearer I could have approached without discovery, but at the time I did not wish to frighten him too far. To have got so near as I did will seem almost incredible to those who recollect the wary character, and the peculiarly restless and vigilant eye of the savage: some strong emotion of love or hate had for the time perhaps rendered him quite unconscious of all surrounding objects!

We came on the river over a steep bank covered with high reeds, and as a party of natives were distinctly audible below, myself, Mr. Forsyth, and Mr. Bynoe led the way. The natives crossed immediately, and were visible for a few moments through the foliage on the other side: however, they appeared but to wait in order to verify the astonishing report just brought in by their breathless countryman; for as the foremost of our party emerged from the tall reeds, our opposite neighbours slowly drew off, and were soon hid in the dense obscurity their position afforded.

They had evidently examined our old fireplace very minutely, but the precaution taken to preserve the meat canister had luckily been successful.

QUARTERS FOR THE NIGHT.

I selected the quarters for the night not without some anxiety, for the natives were evidently in force in our immediate neighbourhood, and their shrill cries kept us all awake, though the day's march had been an arduous one. We had made good upwards of twenty miles: the ground, except in Lucky Valley, was of a most trying character: the thermometer at noon 102 degrees, and with nearly 150 pounds weight among seven of us, for the sick hand was of course relieved as far as possible. I got the requisite observation for lat.i.tude during the night; and since necessity is ever the mother of invention, read off my s.e.xtant by a torch made for the occasion from pieces of paperbark. It will easily be believed, that I did not needlessly prolong the work; for the light of the torch rendered me a prominent mark for any prowling savage to hurl his spear at: however, His Eye, to whom the darkness and the light are both alike, watched over our safety, and we spent the night in security if not in silence.

November 14.

The morning broke, and we found ourselves apparently alone in the solitudes of the forest: no sound or sign indicated the presence of its more rightful proprietors. Did the savage so soon prepare to yield to the advancing movement of that hitherto fatal civilization before which his name, his race, nay, all traces of his rude existence may ere long pa.s.s into oblivion? or did the gathering of the night, and the apparent peaceful aspect of the morn, denote that one gallant struggle would be made ere a strange shout of triumph woke the silent echoes with the glorious name with which we had dignified our new discovery, and which throughout the world sounds as the appropriate t.i.tle of the fair sovereign of its mightiest people?

RETURN TO REACH HOPELESS.

A rapid walk brought us to our old bivouac by ten o'clock, without anything of particular interest having occurred upon the route. We found only one boat at Reach Hopeless, Captain Wickham having gone down the river with the others in order to hasten the watering party. In another chapter will be found some more detailed remarks upon the peculiar and distinctive character of the Victoria; they will not be uninteresting to the reader who feels any of that curiosity which is in part an incitement to the discoverer.

We learnt from the party at the boat that a large body of the natives had been down watching their movements, and apparently intending if possible to surprise them. Though they had approached very near, they would not have been seen but for a shooting party, which got a view of them from an overlooking height, crawling along the ground with evident caution. They were probably the same party we had encountered higher up, and had traced our trail backwards, in order to see whence, and in what force we had entered their territory. Little did they imagine, as they gazed upon our small party and its solitary boat, that they had seen the harbingers of an approaching revolution in the fortunes of their country!

CHAPTER 2.3. VICTORIA RIVER.

Proceed down the river from Reach Hopeless.

Meet watering party.

One of the men deserts.

Kangaroo shooting.

The writer left to complete survey of river.

Silk cotton-tree.

Fertility of Whirlwind Plains.

Attempt of one of the crew to jump overboard.

Reach the Ship.

Suffer from sore eyes.

Lieutenant Emery finds water.

Geological specimens.

Bird's Playhouse.

Tides.

Strange weather.

Range of Barometer.

Accounted for by proximity of Port Essington.

Hurricane.

Effects of the latter.

Dreary country behind Water Valley.

Fruitless attempt to weigh ship's anchors.

Obliged to slip from both of them.

Proceed down the river.

Complete survey of Main Channel.

Visit south Entrance Point of river.

Discover a number of dead turtles.

Cross over to Point Pearce.

Mr. Bynoe shoots a new finch.

The Author speared.

Pursued by natives.

Escape.

Flight of natives.

Armed party pursue them.

Night of suffering.

General description of the Victoria.

Gouty-stem tree and fruit.

REUNION OF THE BOATS.