The History of Australian Exploration from 1788 to 1888 Part 17

Then would come the beginning of the end. As they pressed on, the forest became scantier, and the spinifex higher, spikier, and harder to march through. One by one their animals had fallen and died, and the desperate resort of drinking the blood had been tried by some. What little water they had in their canteens was fast evaporating. Still some of them would keep heart. The ground was getting stonier, and bare patches of rock were constantly pa.s.sed; surely they must be getting on higher country; they were doubtless ascending the gradual rise of one of the inland watersheds, and suddenly they hoped the ground would break away at their feet in deep gullies and ravines; below they would see the tops of green trees, shading some quiet waterhole. How anxiously they looked out for any sign of life that might be a good augury of this, but none could be seen.

Since leaving the open country, even the tireless kites had deserted them; all around was silent, still, and lifeless. It was useless to stop to rest, the ground was blistering to the touch, and there was no shade anywhere. Then came night, but no change; throughout the long watches, the radiance of the stars was never blurred by clouds. Some of the men slept and dreamt of streams of clear, cold water, awaking only to greet the dawn of another day of blinding, stifling heat, heralded by the faint sultry sigh of the hot wind. And as the day grew hotter and hotter some lost their reason, and all lost hope. Then came the end; they separated and straggled away in ones and twos and fell and died. Day after day the terrible and pitiless sun .looked down at them lying there, and watched them dry and shrivel into mummies, and still no rain fell on the earth.

By day the sky was clear and bright, and by night the stars unclouded.

Years may have pa.s.sed; higher and higher grew the spinifex, and its long resinous needles entangled themselves in each other, unchecked by fire for no black hunters came there in that season of drought, and the men's bodies lay there, growing more and more unlike humanity, scorched by the seven times heated earth beneath, and the glaring sun above untouched, save by the ants, those scavengers of the desert, or the tiny bright-eyed lizards. At last, the thunder clouds began to gather afar off, and when they broke, a few wandering natives ventured into the woods, living for a day or two on the uncertain rainfall. This failing, they retired again, leaving perhaps, a trail of fire behind them. Then this fire, fed by the huge banks of flammable spinifex, the growth of many years, spread into a mighty conflagration, the black smoke covering half the heavens. The hawks and the crows fled before it, swooping down on the vermin that were forced to leave the shelter of log and bush. The great silence that had reigned for so long was broken by the roar, and crash, and crackle of a sea of flames; and beneath this fiery blast every vestige of the lost explorers vanished for ever.

When, on the blackened ground, fell heavy rain once more, the spinifex sprang up, fresh and green to look at, only in spots here and there, where a human body had fertilised the soil, it was greener than elsewhere.

So Leichhardt drops out of Australian history, and with every succeeding year the chances of finding any trace grow more remote.

Expeditions have been started in search of him, but without result, and the tale of their efforts will be told in their proper order.

As if the year 1848, when Europe seemed convulsed with some strange tempest of riot and turmoil, should not be unmarked in Australia, two of the most disastrous expeditions in the annals of exploration started during its course. One, Leichhardt's, as we have just seen, vanished, and all must have perished. Of the other, under Kennedy, two ghastly famished spectres, that had once been white men, and a naked blackfellow, alone were rescued out of thirteen.

The same impulses that led to Mitch.e.l.l's and Leichhardt's northern journeys, started Kennedy on his fatal venture up the eastern slope of the long peninsula that terminates in Cape York. The desire to find a road to the north coast, so that an available chain of communication should exist between the southern settlements and a northern seaport.

Kennedy started from Sydney on board the barque TAM O'SHANTER, on the 29th of April, 1848. He had twelve men in his party, including Mr. Carron as botanist, one of the survivors who published the account of the trip, and Mr. Wall, naturalist. Their outfit consisted of twenty-eight horses and one hundred sheep, besides the other necessary rations, carts, &c.

The instructions were to land at Rockingham Bay, and examine the eastern coast of the peninsula, to Port Albany in the extreme north, where a ship would meet and receive them. Such was the programme, alas for the performance!

On the 30th of May, they landed in Rockingham Bay, with the loss of one horse, and Kennedy made his first acquaintanceship with the tropical jungles of northern Queensland (that now is), including the terrible lawyer vine [Calamus Australis.] and the stinging tree. The first, a vine with long hooks and spurs on it, that once fast, seem determined never to let go again; the stalk being as tenacious and tough as wire, and binding the scrub trees together so as to render advance impossible without first cutting a way. The other, a tree with broad leaves, the sting produced by touching which is so painful that horses, who on first being stung have plunged about and been stung all over, have died from the fever and inflammation caused.

These scrubs, marshy ground, salt water creeks, and high mountain ranges, all inhabited by hostile natives, formed the pleasant prospect before Kennedy.

From the very commencement almost, the monotonous record of Carron's journal commences day after day thus--"Cutting scrub all day." Through these marshes and swamps Kennedy strove to make for the ranges, hoping at least to find clearer country to travel through. Often during this time, he must have thought of his last journey over the boundless prairies of the Barcoo, and sighed at the contrast. The natives, too, began to annoy the travellers, and at last they were fired on and four killed and wounded.

On the 18th July, the carts were abandoned, and they went on with twenty-six pack horses, their sheep being reduced to fifty, and these were rapidly falling away, as well as the horses, on the sour coast gra.s.ses. They fared no better when they reached the range, or the spurs of the Main Range, for the scrub still hemmed them in, and roads up and down the rugged hills were hard to find; then to add to all, rain set in.

On the 14th August, Carron took charge of the stores instead of Niblet, who had been very extravagant with them, and also sent in false returns; the allowance of flour was now reduced, and hopes were entertained that with care it would hold out; but at first the supply provided was insufficient. The horses too, began to knock up, and one after another they were left behind dead or dying.

Crossing the dividing watershed, the party for some time travelled along the heads of rivers running into the Gulf of Carpentaria, finding it a great improvement in every way--thence they crossed back on to the waters of the east coast once more, and their horses still giving in, one by one, they fell back on them as an article of diet.

On the 9th of November, Kennedy realised that struggling on with the whole of his party meant death by starvation to all, so he determined to push ahead with three men and the black boy to Port Albany, and send back relief by water. Port Albany, in the Pa.s.s of that name, being the rendezvous agreed upon with the relief vessel. The camp was selected on the top of a hill, fully visible from Weymouth Bay, and Mr. Carron put in charge of it.

On the 13th, Kennedy started with the best seven of the horses leaving the eight men in camp to await his return, or the relief boat. The only account ever received of his journey came from the lips of the black boy Jacky-Jacky, the sole survivor.

His story ran that three weeks after leaving Weymouth Bay they reached Shelburne Bay, after cutting through a great deal of scrub and crossing many rivers and creeks. Here Costigan accidentally shot himself, and became very weak from loss of blood, so Luff, [Luff; the man mentioned here, was with Kennedy on his Barcoo expedition, and some of the trees on the Warrego, marked "L," and ascribed to Leichhardt, were probably some of his marking.] another of the men, being ill, Kennedy left the third man, Dunn, to look after them, and one horse for food; he and the boy making a desperate effort to reach Cape York and send back succour. But it was in vain. They reached the Escape River, and were in sight of Albany Island, when they met a number of blacks who were apparently friendly, although Jacky mistrusted them. Then came the end. Jacky's story has been often told, but it will bear repet.i.tion.

"I and Mr. Kennedy watched them that night, taking it in turns every hour that night. By-and-by I saw the blackfellows. It was a moonlight night, and I walked up to Mr. Kennedy and said, 'There is plenty of blackfellows now.' This was in the middle of the night. Mr. Kennedy told rue to get my gun ready.

"The blacks did not know where we slept as we did not make a fire. We both sat up all night. After this, daylight came, and I fetched the horses and saddled them. Then we went on a good way up the river, and then we sat down a little while, and then we saw three blacks coming along our track, and then they saw us, and one ran back as hard as he could run, and fetched up plenty more, like a flock of sheep almost. I told Mr. Kennedy to put the saddles on the horses and go on; and the blacks came up and they followed us all day. All along it was raining, and I now told him to leave the horses, and come on without them, that the horses made too much track. Mr. Kennedy was too weak, and would not leave the horses. We went on this day until towards the evening; raining hard, and the blacks followed us all day, some behind, some planted before. In fact, blackfellows all around, following us. Now we went into a little bit of scrub, and I told Mr. Kennedy to look behind always.

Sometimes he would do so, and sometimes he would not do so, to look out for the blacks. Then a good many blackfellows came behind in the scrub, and threw plenty of spears, and hit Mr. Kennedy in the back first. Mr.

Kennedy said to me, 'Oh, Jacky Jacky shoot 'em! shoot 'em!' Then I pulled out my gun and fired, and hit one fellow all over the face with buck shot. He tumbled down, and got up again, and again, and wheeled right round, and two blacks picked him up and carried him away. They went a little way and came back again, throwing spears all round, more than they did before-very large spears.

"I pulled out the spear at once from Mr. Kennedy's back, and cut the jag with Mr. Kennedy's knife. Then Mr. Kennedy got his gun and snapped, but the gun would not go off. The blacks sneaked all along by the trees, and speared Mr. Kennedy again in the right leg, above the knee a little, and I got speared in the eye, and the blacks were now throwing always, never giving over, and shortly again speared Mr. Kennedy in the right side.

There were large jags to the spears, and I cut them out and put them in my pocket. At the same time we got speared the horses got speared too, and jumped and bucked about and got into the swamps. I now told Mr.

Kennedy to sit down while I looked after the saddle bags, which I did, and when I came back again I saw blacks along with Mr. Kennedy. I then asked him if he saw the blacks with him. He was stupid with the spear wounds, and said, 'No.' I then asked him where was his watch? I saw the blacks taking away watch and hat as I was returning to Mr. Kennedy. Then I carried Mr. Kennedy into the scrub. He said 'Don't carry me a good way.' Then Mr. Kennedy looked this way, very bad (Jacky rolling his eyes). Then I said to him don't look far away, as I thought he would be frightened. I asked him often, are you well now, and he said, 'I don't care for the spear wound in my leg, Jacky, but for the other two spear wounds in my side and back, and I am bad inside, Jacky.' I told him blackfellow always die when he got spear in there (the back). He said, 'I am out of wind, Jacky.' I asked him (Mr. Kennedy), are you going to leave me? And he said, 'Yes, my boy, I am going to leave you.' He said, 'I am very bad, Jacky you take the books, Jacky, to the Captain, but not the big ones, the Governor will give you anything for them.' I then tied up the papers. He then said, 'Jacky, you give me paper and I will write.'

I gave him paper and pencil and he tried to write, and he then fell back and died, and I caught him as he fell back, and held him, and I then turned round myself and cried. I was crying a good while until I got well, that was about an hour, and then I buried him.

"I digged up the ground with a tomahawk, and covered him over with logs and gra.s.s and my shirt and trousers. That night I left him near dark. I would go through the scrub, and the blacks threw spears at me, a good many, and I went back again into the scrub. Then I went down the creek which runs into Escape River, and I walked along the water in the creek, very easy, with my head only above water to avoid the blacks and get out of their way. In this way I went half a mile. Then I got out of the creek and got clear of them, and walked on all night nearly, and slept in the bush without a fire."

This was the sad tale. It took poor starving Jacky thirteen days to get to Port Albany, short as the distance comparatively was. He lived on what small vermin he could catch, climbing trees every now and again to look for Port Albany and the ship. He carried the saddle bags, with Kennedy's papers, for some distance, but had to leave them hidden in a log.

Immediately that Jacky's story was told to the people of the ARIEL, the schooner awaiting Kennedy's party at Port Albany, sail was made for Shelburne Bay to rescue the three men left there. A canoe was captured which contained articles that left little doubt of the fate of the unfortunates. The camp, however, was too far inland to reach without a very strong party, and as it seemed certain that help was too late, and there were eight men, whom Jacky described as being scarcely able to crawl, awaiting relief at Weymouth Bay, sail was again made there.

The wretched men at Weymouth Bay had fared but badly. Douglas died first, and he was buried; a rite which the party had afterwards to leave unperformed, through sheer weakness. Taylor died next and was buried by the side of Douglas.

Meantime, the blacks behaved in an inexplicable manner, at times they would approach and offer the whites tainted fish as if to make friends, and then come up with spears poised, and every token of hostility, compelling the weary watchers to stand on their guard, expecting an attack. Carpenter was the next to die, and he was buried with the others.

On the 1st December a schooner was seen in the Bay; and joyfully the flag was hoisted and some rockets let off after dark. But she sailed away, never having seen the signals, and the agony of the disappointed men can be imagined. On the 28th December, Niblet and Wall died, and the blacks came and surrounded the camp and threatened the two helpless survivors, hardly able to stand up and hold their guns.

On the 30th, G.o.ddard crawled out to try and shoot some pigeons, and Carron sat with a pistol in his hand, to give him warning if the blacks approached. Let him tell the end.

"About an hour after he was gone I could see some natives running over the hill towards me. I fired a pistol immediately, but before G.o.ddard could get back they were into the camp, and handed me a piece of paper very much dirtied and torn, but I was sure by their manner that there was a vessel in the bay. It proved to be a note to me from Captain Dobson, but I could only read part of it, it was so covered with dirt. I was for a minute or two almost senseless from the hope of being relieved from our miserable condition. I made them some presents, and wrote a note to Captain Dobson and sent them away with it. I easily made them understand what I wanted, but I soon saw that they had other intentions. I saw a great number of natives coming in all directions, well armed. I saw two from strange tribes amongst them. One man that I gave an old shirt to, and put it on him, I saw him take it off and pick up his spears. We were expecting every minute to be attacked by these treacherous villains, when, to our great joy, we saw Captain Dobson, Dr. Vallack, Jacky (the black boy), and another man who had received a spear wound in his arm (Barrett), so that he could offer no resistance to the blacks, coming across the creek. These men had risked their own lives by coming about three miles through mangroves and thick scrub (surrounded by not less than a hundred natives, well armed), with a hope of saving some of us from starving."

The camp had to be vacated in such a hurry in consequence of the threatened attack, that nothing was saved but a few instruments and botanical specimens.

This was the end of a most unfortunate expedition from the first landing.

Against the impa.s.sable nature of the line of march, and the hostile inhabitants, the hara.s.sed explorers had to combat from the first. Their horses were not acclimated, so they soon wasted away, and when sickness laid its hand upon the men they were doomed. The one brightening touch in the whole gloomy picture is the simple devotion shown by poor Jacky: "He then fell back and died, and I caught him as he fell back and held him, AND THEN I TURNED ROUND MYSELF AND CRIED," was the funeral oration over the brave and unfortunate Kennedy.

The brig FREAK was chartered by the Government to make another examination of the coast. The remains of the men at Weymouth Bay were reinterred, and search made for the missing men at Shelburne Bay, but they were never found. Some of the papers secreted by Jacky were recovered, but Kennedy's body had been taken away. This was all that was ever discovered.

In the south of Australia, in 1847, Baron von Mueller was engaged in many explorations, in some still unknown parts of the continent down there.

These travels were undertaken for botanical and geographical purposes combined, partly in the province of South Australia, and latterly amongst the many unexplored recesses of the Australian Alps. The culminating points of several of the highest mountains in Australia were fixed, and their geographical positions accurately defined amongst them being Mount Hotham.

To the west coast once again. Still trusting that perseverance would be finally rewarded, the colonists on Swan River kept making vigorous attempts to penetrate what they would fain consider was only a desert belt bounding their territory.

In 1843 a small private party, consisting of Messrs. Landor and Lefroy, made a short excursion from York, being absent a fortnight. They came across several shallow lakes, both salt and fresh, but their journey was not recompensed by the discovery of any good country.

In 1846 we first come across the name of Gregory in the annals of exploration. There were three brothers of this name, led by the eldest, A. C. Gregory, who as a scientific explorer so greatly distinguished himself in after life. On the 7th August, 1846, they started from Bolgart Spring, the furthest stock station to the eastward.

Their equipment was of the slenderest, and they only took about two months supply of rations. On leaving the settled districts they at once found themselves in the barren country, that had so often stopped the outward march of the pioneers, and their first discovery was a swampy lake (fresh) on the edge of a small patch of better country, but this quickly pa.s.sed, and they entered into the salt lake region, through which they pushed until they reached a range of granite hills, forming the watershed of the coast streams. Turning somewhat to the northward, they kept along these hills for the sake of the rain water to be found amongst the rocks, until, striking again to the east, they encountered an extensive salt lake or swamp; attempting to cross which their horses were bogged, and only extricated with difficulty.

This lake was found afterwards to be of great size, and to fairly hem them in to the eastward, so after several disappointments they turned to the westward to examine some of the streams crossed by Grey during his unfortunate expedition to Shark's Bay. On the head of one of these rivers (the Arrowsmith), which from the uncertainty of Grey's chart, they were unable to clearly identify; they found a seam of coal. This was the only discovery of any importance that they made, the rest of their journey was over very impoverished country, covered with scrub and sand, with here and there salt flats and lakes. They returned to Bolgart Spring on the 22nd September.

On hearing of the coal discovery the Government sent Lieutenant Helpman in the schooner CHAMPION, to Champion Bay, which place he reached at the end of the year, accompanied by one of the Gregorys. They landed the cart and horses, and on the 12th December reached the scene of the coal find.

They soon filled their cart with coal, and returned by a somewhat different track to the schooner. F. Gregory making a detour to the northward without any noteworthy result.

Not yet disappointed in the hope of finding country worth settling to the eastward, Surveyor-General Roe started from York on the 14th September, 1848; he had with him six men, (including H. Gregory) and twelve horses, with over three months' provisions. It will be unnecessary to follow them over the salt lake country which they inevitably met with soon after leaving civilization, or the outskirts of it Their first attempts beyond were unsuccessful; they were successively turned from their course by scrub of the densest character, and sandy plains, so they at last made for the south coast, where they rested for a while at one of the small settlements.

On the 18th, they again started, following the upward course of the Pallinup River, which was the last stream crossed by Eyre before reaching Albany, on his Great Bight expedition. They ascended a branch coming from the north-east, and for a time travelled through well gra.s.sed and promising valleys, but afterwards found themselves once more in the scrubs and sandy plains of the desert. Catching sight of a granite hill to the eastward, they proceeded there, but from its summit the outlook was as gloomy as ever. Fortunately the weather had been showery, and the want of water was not felt so much as the total absence of feed. Still, on to the eastward their difficulties increased at every step. To the impa.s.sable thickets and desolate plains was now added the absence of fresh water, and it was not until after days of privation that they reached some elevated peaks, where a little gra.s.s and water were found.

Their course was now to the south-east, towards the range sighted by Eyre, and named the Russell Range, and a desperate struggle commenced with the barren country through which they had to work their way. So weakened were the horses, and such was the nature of the belts of scrub, that it took them three days to accomplish fifty miles, and after being four days and three nights without water for the horses, they reached a rugged granite hill, called Mount Riley, where they got a scant supply.

From here, their journey to the Russell Range, fifty miles away, was but a repet.i.tion of their former hardships. Nothing but continuous scrub; sometimes the thickets were too dense to attempt a pa.s.sage, even with the axes, and long detours had to be made. At last, with worn-out horses, they reached the Russell Range, and every hope they had entertained of a change for the better was blasted. The range was a ma.s.s of naked rocks, and from the summit nothing but the interminable sea of scrub and the distant ocean, was visible. Fortunately, they got a little gra.s.s and water, which saved the lives of their animals.

From the Russell Range, Roe's homeward track was not far removed from Eyre's, so that no fresh geographical features could be expected, or were discovered, with the exception of another coal seam in one of the rivers running into the south coast. On the 2nd February, 1849, the Surveyor-General reached Perth.