Narrative of an Expedition into Central Australia Part 16

Toiling over these, at seven or eight miles farther we sighted a fine sheet of water, bearing N. and distant about two miles. At another mile I altered my course to 325 degrees, to pa.s.s to the westward of this new feature, which then proved to be a lake about the size of Lake Bonney, that is to say from 10 to 12 miles in circ.u.mference. The ridge by which we had approached it terminated suddenly and directly over it; to our right there were other ridges terminating in a similar manner, with rushy flats between them; eastward the country was dark and very low; to the north there was a desert of glittering white sand in low hillocks, scattered over with dwarf brush, and on it the heat was playing as over a furnace. Immediately beneath me to the west there was a flat leading to the sh.o.r.e of the lake, and on the western side a bright red sand hill, full eighty feet high, shut out the view in that quarter. This ridge was not altogether a mile and a half in length, and behind it there were other ridges of the same colour bounding the horizon with edges as sharp as icebergs.

I did not yet know whether the waters of the lake were salt or fresh, although I feared they were salt. Looking on it, however, I saw clearly that it was very shallow; a line of poles ran across it, such as are used by the natives for catching wild fowl, of which there were an abundance, as well as of hematops on the water. As soon as we descended from the sand ridge we got on a narrow native path, that led us down to a hut, about 100 yards from the sh.o.r.e of the lake.

As we approached the water, the effluvia from it was exceedingly offensive, and the ground became a soft, black muddy sand. On tasting it we found that the water was neither one thing or the other, neither salt or fresh, but wholly unfit for use. Close to its margin there was a broad path leading to the eastward, or rather round the lake; and under the sand ridge to the west, were twenty-seven huts, but they had long been deserted, and were falling to decay. Nevertheless they proved that the waters of the lake were sometimes drinkable, or that the natives had some other supply of fresh water at no great distance, from whence they could easily come to take wild fowl, nor could I doubt such place would be the creek.

Notwithstanding that the water was so bad, I tried several places by digging, but invariably came to salt water, oozing through black mud, and I there fore presumed that a good deal of rain must have fallen hereabouts, to have tempered the water of the lake so much; which it struck me would otherwise have been quite saline. From the point where we first came down upon it, we traversed a flat beach covered with a short coa.r.s.e rush, having the high red sand hill, of which I have spoken, to our left; before us a vast extent of low white sand, and to the eastward an extremely dark and depressed country. I was really afraid of entering on the scorching sands in our front, for we were now full 90 miles from the creek, and it was absolutely necessary, before I should exceed that distance, to find a more permanent supply of water than the wells we had dug on our way out. In order to ascertain the nature of the country more satisfactorily, however, I ascended the rugged termination of the sandy ridge, close to which we had been riding, and was induced, from what I then saw, to determine on a course somewhat to the west of north, since a due north course was evidently closed upon me; for I now saw that the country in that direction was hopeless, as well as in an easterly direction; but although I stood full 80 feet above the lake, I could not distinguish any thing like a hill on the distant horizon. To the westward, as a medium point, there were a succession of sandy ridges, similar to that on which I stood; but to the S.W. there seemed to be an interval of plain. As the thunder storm had reached as far as the place where we last slept, I did not doubt but that it had also reached the lake, and on consideration determined to keep as northerly a course as circ.u.mstances would permit, in pushing into a country in which I was meeting new difficulties every hour. Descending, therefore, on a bearing of 340 degrees, I went to a distance of six miles before coming to a small puddle at which I was glad to halt, it being the only drinkable water we had seen. Here we dug a third well, although, like the first, there was but little chance of benefiting by it. It behoved me therefore to be still more careful in increasing my distance from the creek, so that on the morning of the 17th I thought it prudent to search for some, and as the country appeared open to the south, I turned to that point in the hope of success.

We crossed some low sand hills to a swamp in which there was a good deal of surface water, but none of a permanent kind. We then crossed the N.W.

extremity of an extensive gra.s.sy plain, similar to those I have already described, but infinitely larger. It continued, indeed, for many miles to the south, pa.s.sing between all the sandy points jutting into it; and so closely was the Desert allied to fertility at this point, and I may say in these regions, that I stood more than once with one foot on salsolaceous plants growing in pure sand, with the other on luxuriant gra.s.s, springing up from rich alluvial soil. At two miles and a quarter from the swamp, striking a native path we followed it up to the S.W., and, at three-quarters of a mile, we reached two huts that had been built on a small rise of ground, with a few low trees near them. Our situation was too precarious to allow of my pa.s.sing these huts without a strict search round about, for I was sure that water was not far off; and at length we found a small, narrow, and deep channel of but a few yards in length, hid in long gra.s.s, at a short distance from them. The water was about three feet deep, and was so sheltered that I made no doubt it would last for ten days or a fortnight. Grateful for the success that had attended our search, I allowed the horses to rest and feed on the gra.s.s for a time; but it was of the kind from which the natives collect so much seed, and though beautiful to the eye, was not relished by our animals.

The plains extended for miles to the south and south-east, with an aspect of great luxuriance and beauty; nor could I doubt they owed their existence to the final overflow of the large creek we had all along marked trending down to this point. Such, indeed, I felt from the first, even when I looked on its broad and glittering waters, would sooner or later be its termination, or that it would expend itself, less usefully, on the Stony Desert. As yet, however, there was no indication of our approach to that iron region. The plains were surrounded on all sides by lofty ridges of sand, and the whole scene bore ample testimony to the comparative infancy, if I may so express myself, of the interior. We next pursued a N.N.W. course into the interior, and soon left the gra.s.sy plains, crossing alternate sand ridges and flats on a bearing of 346 degrees, the whole country having a strong resemblance to that between Sydney and Botany Bay in New South Wales. On one of the ridges we surprised a native, who ran from us in great terror, and with incredible speed. About noon we crossed a plain, partly covered with stones and partly bare, and at the further extremity of it pa.s.sed through a gorge between two sand hills into another plain that was barren beyond description, with only salsolaceous herbs. It had large white patches of clay on it, the shallow receptacles of rain water, but they were all dry.

The plain was otherwise covered with low salsolae, excepting on the higher ground, on which samphire alone was growing. It was surrounded on all sides by sand hills of a fiery red, and not even a stunted hakea was to be seen. From this plain we again crossed alternate sand hills and flats, the former covered with spinifex, the latter being quite denuded of all vegetation; but one of the horses at last knocking up, I was obliged to halt in this gloomy region, at the only puddle of rain water we had seen since leaving the gra.s.sy plain. I was sure, however, from the change that had taken place, and the character of the country around us, that we were approaching that feature, the continuance of which, in order to elucidate its probable origin, it had been a princ.i.p.al object in my present journey to ascertain. I felt so convinced on this point, that I could not have returned to Adelaide without having satisfied my mind on the subject. I might, indeed, have had general ideas as to the past state of the depressed interior, from what I had already seen of it; but the Stony Desert was the key to disclose the whole,--and although I feared again to tread its surface, its existence so far away to the eastward of where I had first been on it, would at least tend to confirm my impressions as to what it had been.

It was clear, indeed, from the character of the country through which we had just pa.s.sed, that we were again approaching the salt formation; more especially when, from the highest ground near us, I observed its generally dark aspect, and that there was the dry bed of a large salt lagoon directly in our course. We here dug a fourth well: the water was extremely muddy and thick, for the basin in which it was contained was very shallow, and the wind constantly playing on its surface raised waves that had stirred up the mud; but as there was more water than usual, I hoped that by deepening, it might settle. This was nothing new to us, for not only on our journey to Lake Torrens and to the N.W., had we subsisted on similar beverage, but the water at the Depot at Fort Grey was half mud, and perfectly opaque. However, it was a matter of necessity to retain it here if possible, and we therefore took the best measures in our power to do so.

On the 19th we resumed our journey on the former bearing, the wind blowing keen from the south. At about a mile and a half we reached the salt lagoon, as it appeared to be in the distance, but which proved to be rather a flooded plain. It was about two miles broad, and three and three-quarters long, and was speckled over rather than covered with salt herbs. At this time, also, we had an immense barren plain to our left, bounded all around, but more particularly to the north, by sand hills; over these we toiled for nine miles, when at their termination the centre of the plain bore 176 degrees to the east of north, or nearly south. At five miles and a half further, having previously crossed a small stony plain, succeeded by sand ridges and valleys, both covered with spinifex, we ascended a pointed hill that lay directly in our course, and from it beheld the Stony Desert almost immediately below our feet. I must acknowledge, that coming so suddenly on it, I almost lost my breath. It was apparently unaltered in a single feature: herbless and treeless, it occupied more than one half of the visible horizon, that is to say, from 10 degrees east of north, westward round to south. As to the eastward, so here the ridges we had just crossed ab.u.t.ted upon it, and as many of them were lower than the line of the horizon, they looked like sea dunes, backed by storm clouds, from the dusky colour of the plain.

After surveying this gloomy expanse of stoneclad desert we looked for some object on the N.W. horizon upon which to move across it, but none presented itself, excepting a very distant sand hill bearing 308 degrees, towards which I determined to proceed. We accordingly descended to the plain, and soon found ourselves on its uneven surface. There was a narrow s.p.a.ce dest.i.tute of stones at the base of the sand hill, stamped all over with the impressions of natives' feet. From eighty to one hundred men, women, and children must have pa.s.sed along there; and it appeared to me that this had been a migration of some tribe or other during the wet weather, but it was very clear those poor people never ventured on the plain itself.

Descended from our high position, we could no longer see the sand hill just noticed, but held on our course by compa.s.s like a ship at sea, being two hours and forty minutes in again sighting it; and reaching it in somewhat less than an hour afterwards, calculated the distance at thirteen miles. As we approached, it looked like an island in the midst of the ocean; but we found a large though shallow sheet of water amongst the stones under it, for which we were exceedingly thankful. From this point we crossed to another sand hill that continued northerly further than we could see, having the Desert on either hand. Our horses beginning to flag, I halted at five on the side of the ridge, near a small puddle that had only water enough for them to drink off at once.

The morning of the 20th was bitterly cold, with the wind at S.S.E., and I cannot help thinking that there are extensive waters in some parts of the in terior, over which it came: the thermometer stood at 42 degrees. We started on a course of 335 degrees for a distant sandy peak rising above the general line of the horizon. At a mile, one of the horses fortunately got bogged in a little narrow channel just like that in the gra.s.sy plain; I say fortunately, for we might otherwise have pa.s.sed the water it contained without knowing it, so completely was it shaded. In looking along the channel more closely, we discovered a little pool about three yards long and one broad, but deep. At this we breakfasted and watered the horses, and then pushed on. The lodgment of this water had been caused by local drainage, and was evident from the green feed round about. Here again it appeared we had occasion to be thankful, for on this supply I hoped we might safely calculate for a week at least, so that we still held on our course with more confidence, keeping at the base of the ridge, and pa.s.sing an extent of five miles through an open box-tree forest, every tree of which was dead. The whole scene being one of the most profound silence and marked desolation, for here no living thing was to be seen.

At nine miles we ascended the ridge, and from it the Desert appeared to be interminable from N. to N.E., but a few distant sand hills now shewed themselves to the eastward of the last mentioned point. We then descended into a valley of sand and spinifex, and at four miles and a half ascended an elevated peak in a sandy ridge lying in our way. From this, the view to the north-west was over a succession of sand hills. The point we stood upon, as well as the ridge, was flanked southwards by an immense plain of red sand and clay, and to the N.E. by a similar but smaller plain.

Crossing a portion of the great plain, at four miles and a half we ascended another peak, and then traversed a narrow valley crossing from it into a second valley, down which we travelled for six miles.

At that distance it was half a mile in breadth, and there was a little verdure near some gum-trees, but no water. As we were searching about, a c.o.c.katoo, (Cacatua Leadbeateri) flew over the sand hill to our right, and pitched in the trees; we consequently crossed to the opposite side and halted for the night, where there was a good deal of green gra.s.s for the horses, but no water in the contiguous valley.

CHAPTER II.

THE HORSES--ASCEND THE HILLS--IRRESOLUTION AND RETREAT--HORSES REDUCED TO GREAT WANT--UNEXPECTED RELIEF--TRY THE DESERT TO THE N.E.--FIND WATER IN OUR LAST WELL--REACH THE CREEK--PROCEED TO THE EASTWARD--PLAGUE OF FLIES AND ANTS--SURPRISE AN OLD MAN--SEA-GULLS AND PELICANS--FISH--POOL OF BRINE--MEET NATIVES--TURN TO THE N.E.--COOPER'S CREEK TRIBE, THEIR KINDNESS AND APPEARANCE--ATTEMPT TO CROSS THE PLAINS--TURN BACK--PROCEED TO THE NORTHWARD--EFFECTS OF REFRACTION--FIND NATIVES AT OUR OLD CAMP AND THE STORES UNTOUCHED--COOPER'S CREEK, ITS GEOGRAPHICAL POSITION.

I had taken all the horses, with the exception of one, out with me on this journey, and as they will shortly bear a prominent part in this narrative, I will make some mention of them. My own horse was a grey--for which reason I called him Duncan,--I had ridden him during the whole period of my wanderings, and think I never saw an animal that could endure more, or suffered less from the want of water; he was aged, and a proof, that in the brute creation as well as with mankind, years give a certain stamina that youth does not possess. This animal, as the reader will believe, knew me well, as indeed did all the horses, for I had stood by to see them watered many a time. Mr. Stuart rode Mr. Browne's horse, a little animal, but one of great endurance also; Mack used a horse we called the Roan, a hunter that had been Mr. Poole's. Morgan rode poor Punch, whose name I have before had occasion to mention, and who, notwithstanding subsequent rest, had not recovered from the fatigues of his northern excursion. Besides these we had four pack horses:--Bawley, a strong and compact little animal, with a blaze on the forehead, high spirited, with a shining coat, and having been a pet, was up to all kind of tricks, but was a general favourite, and a nice horse;--the other was Traveller, a light chesnut, what the hunter would call a washy brute, always eating and never fat;--the Colt, so called from his being young, certainly unequal to such a journey as that on which he was taken;--and Slommy, another aged horse. During the summer, Traveller had had a great discharge from the nose, and I was several times on the point of ordering him to be shot, under an apprehension that his disease was the glanders; but, although the colt and my own horse contracted it, I postponed my final mandate, and all recovered; however, he continued weak. At this time they were unshod, and had pretty well worn their hoofs down to the quick, insomuch that any inequality in the ground made them limp, and it was distressing to ride them; but, notwithstanding, they bore up singularly against the changes and fatigues they had to go through.

From a small rising ground near where we stopped in the valley, on the occasion of which I am speaking, and in the obscure light of departing day we saw to the N.N.W. a line of dark looking hills, at the distance of about ten or twelve miles, but we could not discover tree or bush upon them, all we could make out was that they were dark objects above the line of horizon, and that the intervening country seemed to be as dark as they were. The weather had changed from cold to hot, the wind having flown from S. to the N.E., and the day and night were exceedingly warm. I was sorry to observe, too, that the horses had scarcely touched the gra.s.s on which, for their sakes, I had been tempted to stop, and that they were evidently suffering from the previous day's journey of from 34 to 36 miles, that being about the distance we had left the water in the gra.s.sy valley. Before mounting, on the morning of the 21st, Mr. Stuart and I went to see if we could make out more than we had been able to do the night before, what kind of country was in front of us, but we were disappointed, and found that we should have to wait patiently until we got nearer the hills to judge of their formation. About half a mile below where we had slept, the valley led to the N.N.E., and on turning, we found it there opened at once upon the Stony Desert; but the hills were now hid from us by sandy undulations to our left, and even when we got well into the plain we could hardly make out what the hills were. As we neared them, however, we observed that they were nothing more than high sand hills, covered with stones even as the desert itself, to their tops.

That part of it over which we were riding also differed from any other portion, in having large sharp-pointed water-worn rocks embedded in the ground amongst the stones, as if they had been so whilst the ground was soft. There was a line of small box-trees marking the course of a creek between us and the hills, and a hope that we should find water cheered us for a moment, but that ray soon vanished when we saw the nature of its bed. We searched along it for about half an hour in vain, and then turned to the hills and ascended to the top of one of the highest, about 150 feet above the level of the plain. From it the eye wandered hopelessly for some bright object on which to rest. Behind us to the south-east lay the sand hills we had crossed, with the stony plain sweeping right round them, but in every other direction the dark brown desert extended. The line of the horizon was broken to the north-west and north by hills similar to the one we had ascended; but in those directions not a blade of gra.s.s, not a glittering spot was to be seen.

At this point, which I have placed in lat. 25 degrees 54 minutes and in long. 139 degrees 25 minutes, I had again to choose between the chance of success or disaster, as on the first occasion; if I went on and should happen to find water, all for the time would be well, if not, destruction would have been inevitable. I was now nearly 50 miles from water, and feared that, as it was, some of my horses would fall before I could get back to it, yet I lingered undecided on the hill, reluctant to make up my mind, for I felt that if I thus again retired, it would be a virtual abandonment of the task undertaken. I should be doing an injustice to Mr.

Stuart and to my men if I did not here mention that I told them the position we were placed in, and the chance on which our safety would depend if we went on. They might well have been excused if they had expressed an opinion contrary to such a course, but the only reply they made was to a.s.sure me that they were ready and willing to follow me to the last. After this, I believe I sat on the hill for more than half an hour with the telescope in my hand, but there was nothing to encourage me onwards; our situation, however, admitted not of delay. I might, it is true, have gone on and perished with all my men; but I saw neither the credit nor the utility of such a measure. I trust the reader will believe that I would not have shrunk from any danger that perseverance or physical strength could have overcome; that indeed I did not shrink from the slow fate, which, as far as I could judge, would inevitably have awaited me if I had gone on; but that in the exercise of sound discretion I decided on falling back. The feeling which would have led me onwards was similar to that of a man who is sensible of having committed an error, yet is ashamed to make an apology, and who would rather run the risk of being shot, than of having the charge of pusillanimity fixed upon him; but I have never regretted the step I took, and it has been no small gratification to me to find that the n.o.ble President of the Royal Geographical Society, Lord Colchester, when addressing the members of that enlightened body, in its name presenting medals to Dr. Leichhardt and myself, for our labours in the cause of Geography, alluded to and approved "the prudence with which further advance was abandoned, when it could only have risked the loss of those entrusted to my charge."

We slowly retraced our steps to the valley in which we had slept, and I stopped there for half an hour, but none of the horses would eat, with the exception of Traveller, and he certainly made good use of his time.

The others collected round me as I sat under a tree, with their heads over mine, and my own horse pulled my hat off my head to engage my attention. Poor brute! I would have given much at that moment to have relieved him, but I could not. We were all of us in the same distress, and if we had not ultimately found water must all have perished together.

Finding that they would not eat, we saddled and proceeded onwards, I should say backwards--and at 10 p.m. we were on the sand ridges. At the head of the valley Traveller fell dead, and I feared every moment that we should lose the Colt. At one I stopped to rest the horses till dawn, and then remounted, but Morgan and Mack got slowly on, so that I thought it better to precede them, and if possible to take some water back to moisten the mouth of their horses, and I accordingly went in advance with Mr. Stuart. I thought we should never have got through the dead box-tree forest I have mentioned, however we did so about 11 a.m., and made straight for the spot where we expected to relieve both ourselves and our horses, but the water was gone. Mr. Stuart poked his fingers into the mud and moistened his lips with the water that filled the holes he had made, but that was all. We were yet searching for water when Morgan and Mack appeared, but without the colt; fortunately they had descended into the valley higher up, and had found a little pool, which they had emptied, under an impression that we had found plenty; and were astonished at hearing that none any longer remained. In this situation, and with the apparent certain prospect of losing my own and Mr. Browne's horse, and the colt which was still alive when the men left him, not more than a mile in the rear, we continued our search for water, but it would have been to no purpose. Suddenly a pigeon topped the sand hill--it being the first bird we had seen--a solitary bird--pa.s.sing us like lightning, it pitched for a moment, and for a moment only, on the plain, about a quarter of a mile from us, and then flew away. It could only have wetted its bill, but Mr. Stuart had marked the spot, and there was water.

Perhaps I ought to dwell for a moment on this singular occurrence, but I leave it to make its own impression on the reader's feelings. I was enabled to send back to the colt, and we managed to save him, and as there was a sufficiency of water for our consumption, I determined to give the men a day of rest, and to try if I could find a pa.s.sage across the Desert a little to the eastward of north, and with Mr. Stuart proceeded in that direction on the morning of the 24th; but at 3 p.m. we were out of sight of all high land. The appearance of the Desert was like that of an immense sea beach, and large fragments of rock were imbedded in the ground, as if by the force of waters, and the stones were more scattered, thus shewing the sandy bed beneath and betwixt them. The day was exceedingly hot, and our horses' hoofs were so brittle that pieces flew off them like splinters when they struck them against the stones. We were at this time about sixteen or seventeen miles from the sand hill where we had left the men. The Desert appeared to be taking a northerly direction, and certainly was much broader than further to the westward, making apparently for the Gulf of Carpentaria; nor could I doubt but that there had once been an open sea between us and it. We reached our little bivouac at 9 p.m. both ourselves and our horses thoroughly wearied, and disappointed as we had been, I regretted that I had put the poor things to unnecessary hardships. Perhaps I was wrong in having done so, but I could not rest. Our lat.i.tude here was 26 degrees 26 minutes and our long.

by account 139 degrees 21 minutes. In the morning we crossed the remaining portion of the Desert, as I had determined on making the best of my way to the creek, and pa.s.sing the sandy ridges reached our first water (the 4th going out), about sunset or a little before. Water still remained, but it was horridly thick, and in the morning smelt so offensive that it was loathsome to ourselves and the animals. Our great, indeed our only, dependence then was on the water in the little channel on the gra.s.sy plain; at this we arrived late on the afternoon of the 25th. Another day and we should again have been disappointed: the water on which I had calculated for a fortnight was all but gone. In the morning we drained almost the last drop out of the channel. We were now about 92 miles from the creek, without the apparent probability of relief till we should get to it, for it seemed hopeless to expect that we should find any water in the wells we had dug. Crossing the gra.s.sy plains on an east-north-east course, we pa.s.sed the salt lake about 10 a.m. to our left, and ran along the sandy ridges between it and our encampment of the 15th, where we had made our second well, at 6 p.m., but it was dry and the bottom cracked and baked.

I would gladly have given my poor horses a longer rest than prudence would have justified, but we had not time for rest. At 8 we again mounted, and went slowly on; and when darkness closed around us lit a small lamp, and one of us walking in front led the way for the others to follow; thus tracking our way over those dreary regions all night long, we neared our last remaining well, 36 miles distant from the creek, just as morning dawned. Objects were still obscure as we approached the spot where our hopes rested, for our horses could hardly drag one foot after the other. Mr. Stuart was in front, and called to me that he saw the little trees under whose shade we had slept; soon after he said he saw something glittering where the well was, and immediately after shouted out, "Water, water." It is impossible for me to record all this without a feeling of more than thankfulness to the Almighty Power that guided us.

At this place we were still 180 miles from Fort Grey; and if we had not found this supply, it is more than probable the fate of our horses would have sealed our own. As it was we joyfully unsaddled, and, after watering, turned them out to feed. Singular it was that the well on which we had least dependence, and from which we had been longest absent, should thus have held out--but so it was. At 9 we resumed our journey, there being about half a gallon a-piece for the horses just before we started; but although this, and the short rest they had, had relieved them, they got on slowly; and it was not until after midnight of the 27th, a.m. indeed of the 28th, that we reached the creek, with two short of our complement of horses, the Roan and the Colt both having dropped on the plains, but fortunately at no great distance, so that we recovered them in the course of the day.

It will naturally be supposed that, arrived at a place of safety, we here rested for a while; but my mind was no sooner relieved from one cause for anxiety, than it was filled with another. If I except the thunder-storm which had enabled me to undertake my late journey from the creek, no rain had fallen, the weather had suddenly become oppressively hot, with a sky as clear as ether. I had still the mountain range to the N.E. to examine, and the upper branches of the creek, and in this necessary survey I knew no time was to be lost. Indeed I doubted if my return to the Depot was not already shut out, by the drying up of the water in Strzelecki's Creek, although I hoped Mr. Browne still held his ground; but not only was I anxious on these heads, but as to our eventual retreat from these heartless regions. I would gladly have rested for a few days, for I was beginning to feel weak. From the 20th of July, and it was now the last day but two of October, I had been in constant exercise from sunrise to sunset; and if I except the few days I had rested at the Depot, had slept under the canopy of heaven. My food had been insufficient to support me, and I had a malady hanging upon me that was slowly doing its work; but I felt that I had no time to spare, and, as I could not justify indulgence to myself, so on the 29th we commenced our progress up the creek, but halted at six miles on a beautiful sheet of water, and with every promise of success. In the course of the day we pa.s.sed a singularly large grave.

It was twenty-three feet long, and fourteen broad. The boughs on the top of it were laid so as to meet the oval shape of the mound itself, but the trees were not carved, nor were there any walks about it, as I had seen in other parts of the continent.

Before we commenced our journey up the creek, I determined to secrete all the stores I could, in order to lighten the loads of the horses as much as possible, for they were now almost worn out; but it was difficult to say where we should conceal them, so as to be secure from the quick eyes of the natives. At first I thought my best plan would be to dig a hole and bury them, and then to light a fire, so as to obliterate the marks; but I changed my purpose, and placed them under a rhaG.o.dia bush, a short distance from the creek, and arranged some boughs all round it. In this place I hoped they would escape observation, for there were one or two things I should have exceedingly regretted to lose.

The weather had been getting warmer and warmer, and it had at this time become so hot that it was almost intolerable, worse indeed than at this season the previous year. The 30th was a day of oppressive heat, and the flies and mosquitoes were more than usually troublesome. I have not said much of these insects in the course of this narrative, for after all they are secondary objects only; but it is impossible to describe the ceaseless annoyance of these and a small ant. The latter swarmed in myriads in the creek and on the plains, and what with these little creatures at night, and the flies by day, we really had no rest. I continually wore a veil, or I could not have attended to our movements, or performed my duties. It is probable that being in the neighbourhood of water they were more numerous, but here they were a perfect plague, and in our depressed and wearied condition we, perhaps, felt their attacks more than we should otherwise have done. We commenced our journey at seven, and crossing the creek at three-quarters of a mile, ascended a small sand hill upon its proper left bank. Where we had crossed the channel was perfectly dry, but from the sand hill another magnificent sheet of water stretched away to the southeast as far as we could see.

From this point the creek appeared to be bounded by forest land, partly scrubby and partly gra.s.sed. To the south there were flats seemingly subject to floods, and lightly timbered, and beyond these were low sand hills. To the S.W. a high line of trees marked the course of a tributary from that quarter. To the north the country was exceedingly sandy and low, as well as to the east; and the direction of the sand ridges was only 5 degrees to the west of north, so that from this point to our extreme west they gradually alter their line 17 degrees, as in 138 degrees of longitude they ran 22 degrees to the west of north. I was not able to take more than one bearing from the hill I had ascended, to a remarkable flat-topped hill nearly N.E. I now crossed the creek on an east course, and traversed sandy plains, and low undulations, there being a tolerable quant.i.ty of gra.s.s on both; and at four miles changed the route a little to the northward for a small conical sand hill, from which the flat-topped hill bore 41 degrees, and from it some darker hills were visible, somewhat more to the eastward, and as they appeared to be different from the sand ridges, I again changed my course for them, and crossing the bed of the creek at four miles, ascended a small stony range trending to the eastward, the creek being directly at their base.

Following up its proper left bank I ascended another part of the range at three miles and a half, from which the flat-topped hill bore 24 degrees, and the last hill I had ascended 239 degrees. The channel of the creek had been dry for several miles, but we now saw a large sheet of water bearing due east, distant two miles, to which we made our way, and then stopped. From the top of this range the creek seemed to pa.s.s over extensive and bare plains in many branches, southward there were some stony hills, treeless and herbless, like those nearer to us. I was fairly driven down to the valley by the flies, as numerous on the burning stones on the top of the hill as any where else, and I left a knife and a pocket handkerchief behind me. Notwithstanding the magnificent sheet of water we were now resting near, I began thus early to doubt the character of this creek. It had changed so often during the day, at one place having a broad channel, at another splitting into numerous small ones, having a great portion of its bed dry, and then presenting large and beautiful reaches to view, that I hardly knew what opinion to form of it; I also observed that it was leading away from the hills and taking us into a low and desolate region, almost as bad as that to the westward; however, time alone was to prove whether I was right in my surmises.

In the afternoon two natives made their appearance on the opposite side of the water, and I walked over to them, as I could not by any signs induce them to come to us. They were not bad looking men, and had lost their two front teeth of the upper jaw. To one I gave a tomahawk, and a hook to the other, but when I rose to depart, they gave them both back to me, and were astonished to find that I had intended them as presents.

Seeing, I suppose, that we intended them no injury, these men in the morning went on with their ordinary occupations, and swimming into the middle of the water began to dive for mussels. They looked like two seals in the water with their black heads, and seemed to be very expert: at all events they were not long in procuring a breakfast.

Notwithstanding the misgivings I had as to the creek, the paths of the natives became wider and wider as we advanced. They were now as broad as a footpath in England, by a road side, and were well trodden; numerous huts of boughs also lined the creek, so that it was evident we were advancing into a well peopled country, and this circ.u.mstance raised my hopes that it would improve. As, however, our horses had no longer a gallop in them, we found it necessary to keep a sharp look out; although the natives with whom we had communicated, did not appear anxious to leave the place as they generally are to tell the news of our being on the creek to others above us.

On the 31st we started at 7 a.m., and at a mile and a half found ourselves at the termination of the stony ranges to our left. They fell back to the north, and a larger plain succeeded them. At two miles we crossed a small tributary, and pa.s.sed over a stony plain, from which we entered an open box-tree forest extending far away to our left. At five miles and a half we found ourselves again on the banks of the creek, where it had an upper and a lower channel, that is to say, it had a lower channel for the stream, and an upper one independently of it. In the lower bed there was a little water, and we therefore stopped for a short time, the day being exceedingly hot. While here we saw a native at some water a little lower down, mending a net, but did not call to him. On resuming our journey we kept in the upper channel, and had not ridden very far when we saw a native about 150 yards ahead of us, pulling boughs. On getting nearer we called out to him, but to no purpose. At the distance of about 70 yards, we called out again, but still he did not hear, perhaps because of the rustling of the boughs he was breaking down. At length he bundled them up, and throwing them over his shoulder, turned from us to cross to the lower part of the creek, when suddenly he came bolt up against us. I cannot describe his horror and amazement,--down went his branches,--out went his hands,--and trembling from head to foot, he began to shout as loud as he could bawl. On this we pulled up, and I desired Mr. Stuart to dismount and sit down. This for a time increased the poor fellow's alarm, for he doubtless mistook man and horse for one animal, and he stretched himself out in absolute astonishment when he saw them separate. When Mr.

Stuart sat down, however, he stood more erect, and he gradually got somewhat composed. His shouting had brought another black, who had stood afar off, watching the state of affairs, but who now approached. From these men I tried to gather some information, and my hopes were greatly raised from what pa.s.sed between us, insomuch that one of the men could not help expressing his hope that we were now near the long sought for inland sea.

On my seeking to know, by signs, to what point the creek would lead us, the old man stretched out his hand considerably to the southward of east, and spreading out his fingers, suddenly dropped his hand, as if he desired us to understand that it commenced, as he shewed, by numerous little channels uniting into one not very far off. On asking if the natives used canoes, he threw himself into the att.i.tude of a native propelling one, which is a peculiar stoop, in which he must have been practised. After going through the motions, he pointed due north, and turning the palm of his hand forward, made it sweep the horizon round to east, and then again put himself into the att.i.tude of a native propelling a canoe. There certainly was no mistaking these motions. On my asking if the creek went into a large water, he intimated not, by again spreading out his hand as before and dropping it, neither did he seem to know anything of any hills. The direction he pointed to us, where there were large waters, was that over which the cold E.S.E. wind I have noticed, must have pa.s.sed. This poor fellow was exceedingly communicative, but he did not cease to tremble all the while we were with him. After leaving him, the creek led us up to the northward of east, and we cut off every angle by following the broad and well beaten paths crossing from one to the other. At three miles I turned to ascend a conical sand hill, from whence the country appeared as follows: to the north were immense plains, with here and there a gum-tree on them; they were bounded in the distance by hills that I took to be the outer line of the range we purposed visiting; to the eastward the ground was undulating and woody; and southward, the prospect was bounded by low stony elevations, or a low range. The course of the creek was now north-east, in the direction of two distant sand hills. We now ran along it for seven miles, under an open box-tree forest, varying in breadth from a quarter of a mile to two miles; the creek frequently changed from a broad channel to a smaller one, but still having splendid sheets of water in it. At length, as we pushed up, it became sandy, and the lofty gum-trees that had ornamented it, gradually disappeared. Nevertheless we encamped on a beautiful spot.

The 1st of November broke bright and clear over us. Started at seven, the poor horses scarcely able to draw one leg after the other, the Roan having worn his hoof down the quick was exposed and raw, and he walked with difficulty. At a mile and a half we ascended an eminence, and to the eastward, saw a magnificent sheet of water to which we moved, and at five miles reached a low stony range, bounding the creek to the north; having ridden along a broad native path the whole of that distance, close to the edge of the above mentioned water. There were large rocks in the middle of it, and pelicans, one swan, several sea-gulls, and a number of cormorants on its bosom, together with many ducks, but none would let us within reach. We next ran on a bearing of 75 degrees, or nearly east, along a large path, crossing numerous small branches of the creek, with deep and sandy beds, and occasionally over small stony plains. At noon we were at some distance from the creek, but then went towards it. The gum-trees were no longer visible, but melaleucas, from fifteen to twenty feet high, lined its banks like a copse of young birch. We now observed a long but somewhat narrow sheet of water, to which we rode; our suspicions as to its quality being roused by its colour, and the appearance of the melaleuca. It proved, as we feared, to be slightly brackish, but not undrinkable. Near the edge of the water, or rather about four or five feet from it, there was a belt of fine weeds, between which and the sh.o.r.e there were myriads of small fish of all sizes swimming, similar to those we had captured to the westward, in the fourth or O'Halloran's Creek.

Here then was not only the clue as to how fish got into that isolated pond, but a proof of the westerly fall of the interior, since there was now no doubt whatever, but that the whole of the country Mr. Browne and I had traversed, even to the great sand hills on this side the Stony Desert, was laid under water, and by the overflow of this great creek filled the several creeks, and inundated the several plains that we had crossed. By so unexpected a fact, was this material point discovered. The Roan, at this time, could hardly walk, and not knowing when or at what distance we might again find water, or what kind of water it would be, I stopped on reaching the upper end of this pool, but even there it had a nasty taste, nor were any fish to be seen; a kind of weed covered the bed of the creek, and it looked like an inlet of the sea.

I was exceedingly surprised that we had not seen more natives, and momentarily expected to come on some large tribe, but did not, and what was very singular, all the paths were to the right, and none on the southern bank of the creek.

The weather continued intensely hot, and the flies swarmed in hundreds of thousands. The sky was without a cloud, either by day or night, and I could not but be apprehensive as to the consequences if rain should not fall; it was impossible that the largest pools could stand the rapid evaporation that was going on, but I did not deem it right to unburden my mind, even to Mr. Stuart, at this particular juncture.

On the morning of the 2nd of November the horses strayed for the first time, and delayed us for more than two hours, and we were after all indebted to three natives for their recovery, who had seen them and pointed out the direction in which they were. It really was a distressing spectacle to see them brought up, but their troubles and sufferings were not yet over. The Roan was hardly able to move along, and in pity I left him behind to wander at large along the sunny banks of the finest water-course we had discovered.

Starting at 10 a.m. we crossed the creek, and traversed a large sandy plain, intersected by numerous native paths, that had now become as wide as an ordinary gravel walk. From this plain we observed a thin white line along the eastern horizon. The plain itself was also of white sand, and had many stones upon it, similar in substance and shape to those on the Stony Desert, but there was, not withstanding, some gra.s.s upon it. A little above where we had slept, we struck a turn or angle of the creek where there was a beautiful sheet of water, but of a deep indigo blue colour. This was as salt as brine, insomuch that no animal could possibly have lived in it, and we observed water trickling into it from many springs on both sides. At four miles when we again struck the creek, after having crossed the plain, the water was perfectly fresh and sweet in a large pool close to which we pa.s.sed. Here again there were several sea-gulls sitting on the rocks in the water, and a good many cormorants in the trees, yet I do not think there were any fish in this basin; I have no other reason for so thinking, however, than that we never saw any, either swimming in the water or rising to its surface in the coolness of evening on the sheets of fresh water. There might, however, have been fish of large size in the deep pools of this creek, although I would observe that I had two reasons for believing otherwise. The first was, that, the meshes of the nets used by the natives, of which we examined several hanging in the trees, were very small, and that among the fish bones at the natives' fires, we never saw any of a larger size than those we had ourselves captured, and it was evident that at this particular time, it was not the fishing season. I was led to think, that the water in which we noticed so many swimming about, was sacred, and that it is only when the creek overflows, that the fish are generally distributed along its whole line, that the natives take them. Certainly, to judge from the smooth and delicate appearance of the weeds round that sheet of water the fish were not disturbed.

We had been riding for some time on the proper right {LEFT in published text} bank of the creek, but I at length crossed to the right and altered my course to E.S.E., but shortly afterwards ran due east across earthy plains covered with gra.s.s in tufts and very soft, but observing that I had got outside of the native tracks, and that there was no indication of the creek in front, I turned to the S.E. and at five miles struck a small sandy channel which I searched in vain for water; I therefore left it, crossing many similar channels still on a S.E. course; but observing that they all had level sandy beds, I gave up the hope of finding water in them and turned to the south, as the horses were not in a condition to suffer from want. At about two miles I ascended a sand hill, but could not see any thing of the creek; it was now getting late and two of the horses were hardly able to get along. Had we halted then, there was not a tree or a bush to which we could have tethered our animals, anxious too to get them to water I turned to the west, and at a mile got on a native path, that ultimately led me to the creek, and we pulled up at a small pond, where there was better feed than we had any right to expect.

We had hardly arranged our bivouac, when we heard a most melancholy howling over an earthen bank directly opposite to us, and saw seven black heads slowly advancing towards us. I therefore sent Mr. Stuart to meet the party and bring them up. The group consisted of a very old blind man, led by a younger one, and five women. They all wept most bitterly, and the women uttered low melancholy sounds, but we made them sit down and managed to allay their fears. It is impossible to say how old the man was, but his hair was white as snow, and he had one foot in the grave.

These poor creatures must have observed us coming, and being helpless, had I suppose thought it better to come forward, for they had their huts immediately on the other side of the bank over which they ventured. We gave the old man a great coat, as the most useful present, and he seemed delighted with it. I saw that it was hopeless to expect any information from this timid party, so I made no objection to their leaving us after staying for about half an hour. Our lat.i.tude here, by an alt.i.tude of Jupiter, was 27 degrees 47 minutes S.; our longitude by account 141 degrees 51 minutes E.

The plains we had crossed during the day were very extensive, stretching from the north-west, to the south-east, like an open sea. They were thinly scattered over with box-trees, and comprised hundreds of thousands of acres of flooded gra.s.sy land. It is worthy of remark that none of these plains existed to the south of the creek, in which quarter the country was very barren, neither were there any native paths. We were at this time in too low a position to see any of the mountain ranges of which I have spoken. As the old native with the boughs had told us, the creek led us to the southward of east, and consequently away from them, and I feared that his further information would prove correct, and that we should soon arrive at its commencement.

The morning of the 3rd of November was as cloudy as the night of the 2nd had been, during which it blew violently from the N.W., and a few heat-drops fell, but without effect on the temperature. One of the horses got bogged in attempting to drink, and Mack's illness made it nine before we mounted and resumed our journey up the creek, on a N.N.E. course, but it gradually came round to north. At six miles we crossed the small and sandy bed of a creek coming from the stony plains to the south, and beneath a tree, near two huts, observed a large oval stone. It was embedded in the ground, and was evidently used by the natives for pounding seeds. We now proceeded along a broad native path towards some gum-trees, having stony undulating hills upon our right. Underneath the trees there was a fine deep pool in the channel of the creek, which had again a.s.sumed something of its original shape; but as we were in an immense hollow or bowl, and the view was very limited, I branched off to the hills, then not more than half a mile distant. From their summit the country to the south and south-west appeared darkly covered with brush; to the west, there were numerous stony undulations; northward and to the east were immense gra.s.sy plains, with many creeks, all making for a common centre upon them. In the near ground to the south-east, the surface of the country was of fine white sand, partly covered with salsolaceous plants, with small fragments of stone, and patches of more gra.s.sy land. There was no fixed point on which to take a bearing, nor could we see anything of the higher ranges, now to the north-west of us.

In returning to the creek, we observed a body of natives to our left.

They were walking in double file, and approaching us slowly. I therefore pulled up, and sent Mr. Stuart forward on foot, following myself with his horse. As he neared them the natives sat down, and he walked up and sat down in front of them. The party consisted of two chiefs and fourteen young men and boys. The former sat in front and the latter were ranged in two rows behind. The two chiefs wept as usual, and in truth shed tears, keeping their eyes on the ground; but Mr. Stuart, after the interview, informed me that the party behind were laughing at them and sticking their tongues in their cheeks. One of the chiefs was an exceedingly tall man, since he could not have measured less than six feet three inches, and was about 24 years of age. He was painted with red ochre, and his body shone as if he had been polished with Warren's best blacking. His companion was older and of shorter stature. We soon got on good terms with them, and I made a present of a knife to each. They told us, as intelligibly as it was possible for them to do, that we were going away from water; that there was no more water to the eastward, and, excepting in the creek, none anywhere but to the N.E. I had observed, indeed, that the native paths had altogether ceased on the side of the creek on which we then were (the south or left bank), and the chief pointed that fact out to me, explaining that we should have to cross the creek at the head of the water, under the trees, and get on a path that would lead us to the N.E. On this I rose up and mounting my horse, riding quietly towards it, descended into the bed of the creek, in which the natives had their huts, but their women and children were not there. The two chiefs and the other natives had followed, but, the former only crossed the creek and accompanied us. We almost immediately struck on the native path which, as my tall friend had informed me, led direct to the N.E.

I was not at first aware, what object our new friends had in following or rather accompanying us; but, at about a mile and a half, we came to a native hut at which there was an old man and his two lubras. The tall young man introduced him to us as his father, in consequence of which I dismounted, and shook hands with the old gentleman, and, as I had no hatchet or knife to give him, I parted my blanket and gave him half of it. We then pro ceeded on our journey, attended as before, and at a mile, came on two huts, at which there were from twelve to fifteen natives.