an apparent northerly course; this hill is detached from the main mass of range and distant from four to five miles. It and the most of the intervening space between the camp and it is literally one mass of quartz and quartz-reefs, mica, etc., and on top of range is a sort of flaggy slate, all apparently having undergone the action of fire–this range I have called Sarah’s Range; it bears from camp 323 degrees seven miles; a great deal of spinifex and abrupt creeks between camp and it, not a speck of gold visible but it appears to have undergone the action of fire; this is another day lost. Such detention makes me quite irritable and fidgety.
Thursday, April 24.
Camp 41. Night mild, warm morning. Bearing of 345 degrees for three miles, within which distance three tributaries from the range from the west cross us, not of any great size. Change course to 352 degrees, the ground being rather stony and full of spinifex, and the side creeks very sandy, and little hopes of water for the animals although plenty could be had for our own use. At one mile, tributary; at two miles another; four and a quarter miles another; at seven miles junction of two, where we camp; although the distance is short, the bullocks being absent this morning when I left camp, and it appears had gone towards our old camp about eight miles before they were overtaken. I hope all the animals will be at hand in the morning to enable us to make a good day of it tomorrow. Just below the junction of these two creeks (although the southern one is only a small one and in it we got the water) the creek is from 250 to 300 yards broad with splendid gums in it on its banks. Although I searched up and down the main creek some distance still no water to be found, the bed of the creek is so very sandy. My reason for camping at so short a stage was that from the top of the hill I was on I fancy I could discern a continuation of dry-looking country beyond this creek. Very little spinifex on the way today; plenty of grass and very good travelling; masses of quartz and mica all along our tracks; ridges low with some spinifex run in considerably to the east towards the main creek–lots of myall and other shrubs. The natives are busy burning on the ranges some distance west of this and have been burning daily ever since we came on the creek, and I suppose are still unaware of our presence or they would have paid us a visit. For the last 150 miles at least there have been on the slopes and tops of all the ranges decaying red anthills, not tenanted and gradually decaying–many of them appearing like sharp spires and washed in every shape by the rains and the weather.
Friday, April 25.
Camp 42. Mild night, warm morning. Animals all at hand for a good start. Bearing of 352 degrees; crossed good-sized creek at three and a half miles; another good-sized creek at eight miles; and at ten and a quarter miles another, but deep. During first part of the journey over good open white gum and myall forest; last part ridgy, with spinifex; quartz all the way; at twelve miles and a half crossed creek; at fourteen and a half miles crossed creek; native got water by digging in the sand; at sixteen and a quarter miles changed course to 5 degrees, the ridges and spurs coming too much in my way; four and three-quarter miles on this last bearing to a mound of slabs of sparkling stony-like mica, about fifty feet, and two mounds of similar form, but wooded on the right, no water; left Middleton here to tell them to camp for the night and watch the animals, and went myself westward to endeavour to find water for them in the morning and found it at three miles on bearing of 301 degrees, so returned; met them just having dinner; repacked and led them to water–distance travelled twenty-four miles. This is an immense creek and is still flowing slowly through and over the sand in its bed; it is upwards of 300 yards wide, comes from the west and south through the ranges, joins another about a mile north of this and passes round a small stony hill on its right bank, then takes a northerly course then, and lastly as far as I could discern, a north-east course. Very heavy gum timber. I am sorry to say today our marking chisel was lost so we will not be able to mark any more trees. The creek I have called the Marchant after William Marchant, Esquire, of Mananarie. The main creek is now a very considerable distance east. I hoped to have struck it before this but the spurs from the main range keep it off. Passed today a vast number of smaller tributaries from west; immense reefs and masses of quartz and small ranges composed of shining slabs of a grey, tough and wavy stone with masses of quartz. A good deal of spinifex but no scrub to interrupt us. Will make for a distant low spur of main range tomorrow in my course.
Saturday, April 26.
Camp 43. Very mild night; a great many clouds; a likelihood of rain. Started on bearing of 336 degrees over a vast quantity of strong spinifex; bad travelling although not very stony. Not so much quartz today although large piles of it are to be seen. Crossed Marchant’s Creek and at one mile crossed a tributary. At ten miles came to a very fine creek about 400 yards broad, in one of its branches from sixty to eighty yards; broad water completely fills the space as far as you can see southward and westward. I have called it the Williams after Edward Williams, Esquire, of the North of Adelaide. Immense holes in a light blue rock in the creek a few hundred yards north of this full of water and apparently very deep, an abundance immediately beyond in the creek, which appears to flow northward. I have come rather a short journey today as the sheep and bullocks had no time to feed yesterday. Very cloudy and sultry. Lots of small fish in this creek, none yet seen longer than three inches; amongst them are a lot of fish about the same size or a little larger, with fine vertical black stripes commencing at the shoulder and a black tip to lower part of tail–body generally lighter-coloured than the other fish.
Sunday, April 27.
Camp 44, Williams Creek. Mild night, not so like rain this morning. Bearing of 355 degrees crossing this creek at an acute angle, crossed this creek again at three miles, crossed again at five miles–creek close on the right; at six and one-eighth miles crossed a deep tributary at its junction–heavy timber, plenty of water. Williams Creek still close on the right full of spinifex on the slopes and short rough abrupt creeks; bad travelling; at seven and three-quarter miles commenced travelling in bed of the creek, west side, till eight and three-quarter miles, the creek bearing off more to the east. At present I keep on my course of 355 degrees, over good country the latter part of course. At thirteen miles came to and crossed a splendid creek with abundance of water and lots of fish coming from the hills west and flowing apparently east. This creek I have called the Elder after Thomas Elder, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Monday, April 28.
Camp 45, Elder’s Creek. Last night we slept in the bed of the creek on the sand. There must have been a terrific flood here lately, such as this part of the world has not been visited with for many years; between thirty and forty feet over our heads in the bed of this creek are now to be seen logs, grass, and all sorts of rubbish left by it; and immense trees torn up by the roots, and others broken off short at twenty to thirty feet from their roots–showing the violence of the current. No doubt there is plenty of permanent water in the range further up in the last three creeks we have camped on. Mild morning with fleecy clouds. Wind south-south-west. Another deep creek joins this where we struck it, coming more from the south-west; water at its junction with this. Plenty of water up this creek; did not go down it. Our journey today on bearing of 355 degrees over sixteen and three-quarter miles was over good, lightly-timbered, well-grassed country and a good deal of flooded country. Saw no water but lots of birds. Shot an emu. Changed course to 347 degrees for a small hill in the distance and at two and a half miles crossed several irregular watercourses from the north flowing to south and east; went then to a small spinifex rise, timbered. At eight and a half miles struck a creek with water; I have called it Poole’s Creek after Mr. R.T. Poole of Willaston. Distance travelled today twenty-five and a half miles. After getting into camp myself and Middleton went on to the hill in front and at two and a quarter miles arrived at it. It is perfectly detached and stands in the open plain–is very stony or rather rocky. Open plains to the north and west as far as you can discern; to the north-north-east appears dark timber which I hope to be the main creek, and appears to be bearing to north and west. A couple of isolated hills from fifteen to twenty miles off bearing respectively, the southern one 251 1/2 degrees, the northern one 254 degrees. The southern one I have called Mount Elephant, the one to the north Mount McPherson, and the one I am on Margaret. Another in the distance bearing 258 degrees.
Tuesday, April 29.
Camp 46, Poole’s Creek. This creek takes its rise from the westward on the plains between this and the hills which are now a considerable distance from us; and after passing this encampment bears to east round by north. Mild morning, wind easterly. Shot two young emus. Pass over immense plains with small belts of bushes here and there and in places more especially near the isolated hill on the plain. At eleven and a quarter miles further came to a watercourse from the westward and flowing considerably to north of east with plenty of water. Camped to give sheep and bullocks time to feed, as it was half-past 8 p.m. ere they reached their camp last night, and one of the bullocks considerably lame. Distance travelled about thirteen and a half miles. Instead of plains, as I have called this open country, it is rather very gentle undulations and a considerable portion of it occasionally inundated as for instance of late. Another large waterhole in this course at about a mile on bearing of 355 degrees; the creek then appears to bear off to the eastward. I will still hold on my course of 15 degrees, but would sooner it were 25 degrees west of north as on that course I would be going pretty direct for the mouth of the River Albert, now I imagine about 150 miles distant, if the watch has not put me too much out–it stops sometimes and when it does go it gains one hour in twelve.
Wednesday, April 30.
Camp 47. Blackfellows burning grass to east-south-east of us; the first bushfire we have seen; morning pleasant with wind from south-south-east. Some or nearly all complained of being sick after eating the first emu, but I liked it much and so did some of the others; they are a great acquisition and have saved us three sheep; the largest weighed when ready for the pot forty-eight pounds; the smaller ones when ready for use thirty-one and thirty-three pounds, and are much better than the old one. The grass passed over yesterday although abundant is rank and not of that sweet description we have before seen, but no doubt excellent for cattle and horses. Just as the animals were being brought in for packing Davis found, in a small shallow pool nearly dry, numbers of small nice-looking fish of two sorts–longest not more than three and a half inches; one sort like the catfish of the Murray, the other spotted like a salmon. For five miles over timbered plains on a bearing of 345 degrees; at three and a half miles struck a small creek coming from west and south with plenty of water; and at five and a quarter miles further an immense deep creek with water (gum) crossed at rightangles from the western banks which are very precipitous. I have called it the Jessie. At six miles came to and crossed a noble river, now a creek as it is not running, but plenty of water; from 300 to 400 yards broad. At crossing the first, cabbage palm seen on its western bank between this and the last creek; on left of course is a splendid belt of white gums on the dry sound flat; this river, like the other creek, flows from south of west after crossing a northerly and easterly course; I have called it the Jeannie after a young lady friend of mine. At fourteen and a half miles came to a fine lagoon running easterly and westerly; good water in abundance; went round it and camped north-west side, as the natives are firing close by on the south-east side; distance nineteen and a half miles. For some considerable distance back it has been an open timbered country; plenty of myall and useful white butt gum; drainage as yet all to the east and slightly north. I thought the Jeannie bore more north but it bore off again to the eastward; no game of any kind seen today except a turkey; a great quantity of vines on which grows four or five black fruit, like peas and extremely hard, from every flower, and on which the emu appears to feed much. There were also two other vines or runners on which grow an oblong fruit about one to one and a half inches long, green like cucumber, but bitter; the other is a round fruit about the size of a walnut, darker in colour than the other, not so abundant, and which the emu seems to exist much on at present. Some seeds of each and many shrubs, flowers, and fruits before new to me I have obtained. A number of partially-dried lagoons all round this about three-quarters of a mile long; one is about six feet deep; a very fine sheet of water.
Thursday, May 1.
Camp 48. Beautiful cool breeze from east-south-east; one native seen by Palmer (who was behind with the bullocks) running the tracks of the horses and camels, but when he saw Palmer he was off at full speed; it is strange we don’t fall in with more of them in a country where there appears to be lots of food and water for them; started on bearing of 330 degrees, at 120 yards crossed a partially dry lagoon, at a quarter of a mile another, then splendid open forest, well timbered and grassed; at two and a quarter miles struck a creek flowing about 20 degrees north of east, deep sandy bed, no water, followed it down for one mile bearing 70 degrees and crossed, not being able to get up the opposite banks being so abrupt; although there is no water here no doubt from the look of the creek there is abundance both above and below, dead palm tree branches amongst the creek-wash; bearing of 330 degrees through splendid open forest and well grassed; at one mile crossed the same creek flowing to north of west, at three and a quarter miles struck it again and crossed it flowing to north of east, and just in a turning to north, still no water in its bed, at three and three-quarter miles struck it again but did not cross it, it appearing to bear to north-east out of our tracks; bearing of 290 degrees one mile, creek on right hand; bearing of 330 degrees five miles; then bearing of 322 1/2 degrees for one and three-quarter miles; bearing of 330 degrees three miles over open plains with a few shrubs occasionally, came to a small creek flowing to north of east, plenty of water; distance travelled seventeen and three-quarter miles; the grass on all the very open country was very dry and little substance in it, along the large creek passed and crossed various times reeds first met with; the large creek when last seen was bearing to west of north a long distance off, beyond an open plain; the creek I am now upon divides into several branches just here, which makes this one so small. Shot a new bird–dark grey, large tail, something like a pheasant in its flight; it always starts from the ground and settles awkwardly on the trees, its tail appearing a nuisance to it; the specimen shot is too much torn for preservation. The days now are very warm and the nights very agreeable. Short as the time is since they must have had the rain here it is astonishing how it has dried up in many places. The large creek crossed yesterday I have called the William after a young friend of mine.
Friday, May 2.
Camp 49. Beautiful morning; wind south-south-west. Bearing 330 degrees over a plain and at three miles crossed a watercourse flowing east; at three and three-quarter miles crossed another with plenty of water on right hand flowing to north of east; at seven and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a narrow deep creek, plenty water, about fifty yards wide, and have named it the Dugald, flowing north-north-east; small ranges visible at crossing this creek; beyond a plain at south-west; nice open forest before crossing this creek; at ten and a quarter miles over small stony plain, or rather bald hill, as it ascends and descends; came to and crossed a box and gum small watercourse; dry at crossing; first part over plain and latter part over myall forest undulations; at twelve and three-quarter miles came to irregular small creeks flowing to north-north-east, plenty of water; at eighteen miles came to a small creek from the ridges on our left with sufficient water for all useful purposes. From the last creek, undulations of fair and spinifex country; and slopes of ridges covered with spinifex (slopes to northward). At this creek there are a number of beautiful shady trees, leaves about four or five inches broad and from five to six inches long; besides gums and various other trees. Spinifex on both sides of the creek down to its edge. A hill of no great height ahead of us in our course for tomorrow. Saw plenty of turkey.
Saturday, May 3.
Camp 50. Fleecy clouds; wind east-south-east, blew pretty strong towards morning. Started on bearing of 330 degrees; for first three miles over spinifex ridge then small grass flat and another small spinifex ridge; at four miles over a good-sized plain (drainage all towards south and west towards heavy timber–where there is I suppose a large creek or river from the south) and across a small spinifex stony range. Cleared it at twelve and a quarter miles, following along the slopes of the hills, drainage west and north; at fourteen miles came to a watercourse, drainage north, abundance of water; followed along numerous watercourses both on right and left with plenty of water, and along what is here the principal creek–not so much water in it although it is better defined. Camped at sixteen miles. The feed on the open ground is as dry as tinder and not at all of first-class quality, the only green feed being about the creek and watercourses. A great abundance of those fine shady broad-leaved trees; they would be a great ornament in a park; it bears an abundance of seed but not ripe at present although I have taken some of it. Very sultry.
Sunday, May 4.
Camp 51. Mild night and morning. Our small stock of sheep got out of the fold in the night and half of them are missing this morning; I hope they may be got. Sky a good deal overcast. Wind east. I am glad that the missing sheep, after a little looking for, were found close by; the loss of them would have deprived us of at least seven days’ food, which would be no light matter in a country where we seldom can even shoot a duck, much less sufficient for all the party who are now, I am happy to say, in excellent health. As this creek–which I have called Davis Creek after one of the party–bears a good deal on my course of yesterday, and has a good many irregularities near the bank which make it rough travelling, I have changed my course to north-west or 315 degrees; at one mile cleared the creek although it keeps pretty close on my present course and appears to be hemmed in on the right by the last ridge I crossed yesterday; then over plains and belts of myall gum; at five and three-quarter miles crossed a small creek flowing northward over similar country, but more sound; at ten and a half miles crossed a couple of small creeks flowing northward (the natives burning a short distance on our left); then over a variety of fair open country and a small portion of very thick and scrubby myall forest; then over spinifex ridge; then over well grassed tablelands for several miles; then over pretty thickly timbered spinifex rise of considerable length; and lastly for the last five miles over plains, light belts of timber here and there; got to a creek with sufficient water at twenty-seven and three-quarter miles. Long day, rather; did not see a drop of water the whole way, but I fancy we could have had what we desired at the early part of the day but we did not require it. The sheep and bullocks got to camp about 8 o’clock p.m., an astonishing journey for the poor little fellows; they are now, with the constant travelling and the long coarse grass, falling off in condition, but had they the feed they were accustomed to they would be much better; as it is they are far from poor–kidneys well-covered yet and fairish caul fat.
Monday, May 5.
Camp 52. Mild night with dew and calm, still morning; very cloudy and rainy-like to north and south of east. Heard a native wailing for some lost friend or relation during the night but as yet have seen none of them, although they were burning on left of our track yesterday within two miles. This creek comes from southward and flows to west of north considerably; it is well defined with box timber, but not at all deep; it appears more like a side creek to a larger stream. There is here a considerable plain on both sides and as yet no main creek visible although I fancy there must be one, all the drainage yesterday being to left of our course, no doubt to meet some large creek to south and west. Started on bearing of 315 degrees; crossed the creek obliquely at starting; then over a plain; at three and a quarter miles into a mulga forest, or rather belts of it, and amongst which there was at three and a quarter miles a swamp with water; then over plains and a gentle rise, thinly interspersed with small lots of shrubs and thin belts of timber (light); at thirteen and a half miles to a watercourse, sufficient water for our use, although rather opaque, but we can easily put up with that once in a way. I have made the journey short today in consequence of yesterday’s one being so long. At the conclusion of today’s stage from my calculations it places me exactly on Gregory’s track, twenty miles east of where he crossed the Leichhardt River. I hope in reality it may be so, but I am hardly sanguine enough to expect it, taking everything into consideration–bad time-keeping watch and nothing to go by but the guess of your horse’s pace.
Tuesday, May 6.
Camp 53. Dull morning, cloudy, wind south-south-west. A vast number of galahs, corellas, macaws, cockatoo parrots, hawks, and crows here. Started on bearing of 310 degrees over alternate plains and through belts of small timber. At seven miles passed swampy country where some heavy belts of timber are to the right of course. A great number of birds; water I am sure could be had if required; over alternate plains and strips of forest as before. At seventeen and three-quarter miles came to a native camp near swamp (water). Saw two of them in the distance some few miles further, but they scampered off and I did not go after them. Over similar country, latterly more open and even. At twenty-two and a half miles struck the Leichhardt River at what appears an island. Plenty of deep water; banks too precipitous for the animals to water. Followed down it bearing 330 degrees for two and a half miles and came to a bend of the river. Good sound watering-place; shingly and sandy beach for about a mile. Camped near the upper end of it. Hodgkinson caught a small fish; large one seen but not caught. It is a splendid river and from bank to bank is from 150 to 180 yards where we are encamped; but the water is here and for nearly a mile confined to a space of fifteen to twenty yards. Here on the western side, and a little further in at a crossing-place on the eastern side where it is still running a nice little stream, stony bottom, and only a couple or three yards wide.
Wednesday, May 7.
Camp 54. Very dull morning and sultry; every appearance of rain, sky perfectly overcast. Started down bed of river on east side on bearing of 37 degrees for one and one-eighth miles; crossed; a quarter of a mile on bearing of 220 degrees; bearing 260 degrees for one mile, following along the western banks of river, where it is full of sand and timber, and fully 500 yards wide; bearing 282 degrees, still along the banks for half a mile; then bearing of 310 degrees as the river goes suddenly off north and eastward; one mile on last bearing through, since crossing river, pretty open forest land; on bearing of 352 degrees at one and a quarter miles came to a fine lagoon or swamp with plenty of water and green grass; bearing of 352 degrees, at half a mile further crossed a deep dry creek going west to or by the swamp, at one and a half miles further came to and crossed a deepish creek from the south and west, sandy bottom (water); at one and three-quarter miles further struck the river, plenty of fresh water, and good crossing if necessary; at two and three-quarter miles further came to a nice lagoon, plenty of water and feed, river apparently some distance off, on the right; at seven and three-quarter miles further over open forest and plains with light timber. Seeing no chance of water ahead changed course for the Leichhardt; bearing of 109 1/2 degrees for 3 and one-third miles to river; crossed it and camped in the sandy bed; lots of stones for the last two miles and stony about the riverbank.
Thursday, May 8.
Camp 55. Strong south breeze, all appearance of rain blown away. Started on bearing of 355 degrees, water in the way; at one mile, between the start and that, there were stones and a little spinifex; then over open plains, small belts of clumps of small trees; halted at nine and a half miles; water quite sufficient for our use. I never saw such flights of Sturt’s pigeons–at times completely darkening the ground over which they flew–a vast body of them seem to be wending their way to north-west from south-east, but vast numbers are here on the plains notwithstanding; natives burning on the Leichhardt in all directions, and one or two fires towards the Albert; took Middleton with me to ascertain what kind of country there is between camp and coast. On bearing of 355 degrees at six miles came to and crossed a creek, plenty of water, flowing to north-north-east; at sixteen and a half miles struck a creek with heavy box and gum timber, and water where we struck it in small lagoons and side creeks. Camped; natives burning ahead of us and a little east. A great portion of the country we have come over from camp is inundated and has now coarse grass and reeds. This creek flows here about north; south of this it comes more to the north-north-east.
Friday, May 9.
Middleton and I still out; party in camp. Started on bearing of 40 degrees; wind strong, south; at three and a half miles struck the creek, now a very considerable size and flowing to the eastward and a little south; followed it for a quarter of a mile, keeping it on the left on bearing of about 110 degrees, and crossed it at a long grassy flat; in its bed native wurlies between where we first struck it and crossed it; bearing of 40 degrees, long deep reach of water, banks well defined; bearing of 40 degrees, at three-quarters of a mile, creek, recrossed same on a bed of lava, all rent, abundance of water; at five and a half miles further struck the Leichhardt, its bed vast sheets of stones–rocks and small stones opposite side, lower down–the water in its bed is about or upwards of 150 yards wide; at two miles, bearing of about 210 degrees, struck the river at a stony and rocky fall and went westward half a mile to avoid the bend; struck river again at three miles on same course as above; then at four miles struck the river, water in its full width now upwards of 250 yards, a splendid-looking place, and lined on its banks with splendid timber of various kinds, with a variety of palms, etc.; then to the southward of south-west for between six and eight miles, but the rugged banks were so intricate that it was impossible to calculate the distance correctly; in a great many places, half a mile from the riverbanks, the plains drop off precipitously from three to ten feet, and slope off in undermined deep earthy creeks, finishing at last in deep reedy creeks close to the river; water in nearly all the side creeks and compelled us to keep out, but sometimes we were caught in them, thinking the timber we were advancing to was a lagoon or belt of timber, and then we were compelled to go round it; then cross a very fine creek running into the river the same, I believe, we crossed yesterday about six miles from camp on our outward course. From this to our camp I make out about thirteen miles on a bearing of about 200 degrees; got to camp about 8 p.m., for the last seven miles guided by a roman candle shot off at the camp. Fireworks are most useful in expeditions of this kind as in many cases some of our party have been guided up to camp near midnight.
Saturday, May 10.
Camp 56. Very cold during the night; in the morning wind south-east but beautiful weather. Started on bearing of 20 degrees over land subject to frequent inundations, with reeds thinly scattered over it and narrow belt of small timber. At twelve miles came to and crossed the creek seen on our way out on Thursday afternoon last, about six miles from camp (56 the camp). At thirteen miles struck a lagoon, then another, and another at fourteen and a quarter miles, all of which have abundance of water; at the last of which I encamped, excellent feed. I forgot to mention that yesterday on return to camp from first striking in Leichhardt’s River I observed apparently a native firing the grass a short distance on my right. I made towards it and saw one coming steadily towards us, still spying us, retreated at full speed; as I had some fish-hooks and line I was determined to pull him or her up. Started off and overtook what turned out to be a gin and her piccaninie, and had a load of something, which in her retreat she dropped. She screamed and cooeed and set fire to the grass all around us to endeavour to get rid of us, but all to no purpose. I held out to her a fish-hook but she would not take them to look at even, but busied herself screaming and firing the grass; upon which I got off the horse and approached her. She immediately lifted up her yam-stick in the position the men throw their spears, and prepared to defend herself, until at last she quieted down on observing the fish-hook, and advanced a step or two and took it from me, evidently knowing the use of it. I then gave her a line and another hook, and by signs explained to her that I would return in the direction the day following. She wished me to understand something, holding up four of her fingers, but what she meant I could not guess. I tried to make out from her how far the coast was, making motions as if paddling a canoe, but could not get any information; as soon as we were clear off she set to work to make an immense smoke to attract the notice of her people to give them the news. This afternoon three of the party went over east-south-east about three-quarters of a mile to the river and caught about a dozen fish of small size and three different sorts, and a turtle about a foot long. The river during the day has almost always been in sight from thirty six miles off till crossing the creek, when it was not more than one mile off.
Sunday, May 11.
Camp 57. Could not have finer weather for travelling; abundance of feed, though on anything like high ground it has shed its seed and is now dry; plenty of good water as yet and fair feed round it generally. Lagoons wooded round generally with rusty gum, box, and white gum; wind east-south-east and pleasant. Started to clear some broken slopes ahead towards the river on bearing of 345 degrees. At two miles over plains came to and crossed a creek running into the river about a mile off; at two and a quarter miles changed course to 9 degrees, over open country–generally sloping to north-east from river with plenty of water on each side; at six and three-quarter miles struck the river at the falls. Messenger overtook me to say that one of the bullocks we had been using for the pack could not be brought on so determined to kill and jerk him; and went west half a mile on a small creek with running water and where the feed was better and more green than on the river. The bullock was got to camp about evening and slaughtered; plenty of guardfish, swordfish, and sharks under the falls, which are about fifty to sixty feet high with no current. Deep water above and below, and water oozing through the fissures of the rock which appears a sort of burnt limestone and indifferent agate. Found an eatable fruit on a handsome tree of the palm kind.
Monday, May 12.
Camp 58. Wind south-south-west; not an ounce of fat upon the bullock; won’t take so long to jerk. I started out today to examine the country ahead, taking with me Middleton and Poole. At one mile over plain 5 degrees; changed course to 355 degrees; at five and a half miles struck the river and changed course to 285 degrees; at five-sixths of a mile struck and crossed creek from south to river; at two and five-sixths miles crossed smaller one from same direction; at a quarter of a mile further changed course to 340 degrees; at eleven and three-quarter miles over very bad travelling country, plains subject to much inundation, to a creek running into the river with splendid water and feed; at twelve and a half miles came to the river, with an immense sand-spit opposite; appears to be within the influence of the sea and is about 600 yards wide and dry half across. A number of pelicans up some distance; water either brackish a little or with some other peculiarity about it. Started for apparently another bend of the river, on bearing of 329 degrees. One and three-quarter miles saw a lagoon, on the left ahead; and as the horses are tired will bear for it and turn them out. Course 282 degrees, three-quarters of a mile; abundance of water and feed; lots of geese, ibis, ducks, and spoonbills. North three-quarters of a mile from this is the river, about 500 yards wide, treeless on the west bank and cliffs about twenty to thirty feet high, all round an immense sweep; sandy beach opposite, within the influence of the sea, a rise and fall of four feet observed–and at high-water a little brackish. Caught a few fish; the only thing we had for supper; would have done well had there been sufficient of them.
Tuesday, May 13.
Started on bearing of 330 degrees for a distant point like river timber which turned out to be a small hill or ridge with spinifex; a lagoon on the left at its base; struck it at five miles. At five and a half miles changed course to 355 degrees; at ten miles first part over firm, small, stony plains, good country; then at four miles crossed a salty timberless creek; and then over a succession of salt swampy flats with grassy plots intervening. Middleton’s mare Counterfeit knocked up and he had to stay with her. I and Poole went on on a bearing of 355 degrees still; at two miles came to a mangrove creek; at two and a quarter miles the banks of the Albert River; salt arm, from half to three-quarters of a mile broad. Returned to Middleton and started back for the Leichhardt River on bearing of 110 degrees to camp, as soon as we could get water and feed, to endeavour to get the mare back to camp or part of the way. On bearing of 110 degrees for about four miles, first part over salt swamps; passed a long rocky lagoon full of water and half a mile long from north to south, and several other smaller ones between that and the river; mangrove banks in all the flat parts. Banks on this side treeless; country much burnt up. Top tide at least five hours earlier than when we camped last night; caught a few fish–in all about enough for one but had to do for the three of us. Rise and fall of river somewhere about five feet.
Wednesday, May 14.
Wind south; was very cloudy during the night and this morning; mosquitoes very troublesome during the night. Bearing homewards 170 to 215 degrees for the first eight or ten miles, leaving Poole and Middleton to get on to our first camp till I bring on the party on the morrow. Got to camp myself a little after sundown, and to my disgust found all the camels astray and Bell and Davis in search of them.
Thursday, May 15.
Start Hodgkinson and Maitland on to Middleton and Poole’s camp with four horses, bedding, and provisions on such a course, 25 1/2 degrees west of north, as will cut their camp. No tidings of the camels. I went out and hunted about for them till noon, and just as I got to camp Bell and Davis returned, having camped out all night after them, but saw nothing of them–the ground is so hard they leave so little impression on the ground that it is a difficult thing to trace them; however they have got bells and hobbles on and will at once be again sent after, with, I hope, more success. I am exceedingly annoyed at the detention here, more so as the animals don’t do so well here as they have done. Hunted still during the afternoon for them, but without success. All spare hands will start out in search in the morning; it will be the sound of the bells or the sight of them only that will recover them, as track them we cannot in this dry country. Promised the party a treat on arriving within the influence of the sea on the north coast, so had baked some flour kept in reserve and each had a liberal allowance served out to him–that with fresh and excellent mutton and some salt I brought back from the flats gave all quite a treat. Sent Poole and Middleton theirs on by Hodgkinson and Maitland, which in their present half-starved condition would be a still greater treat. We would all have been in better spirits had the camels not been absent, but will hunt well for them tomorrow and trust we may recover them.
Friday, May 16.
I with Bell and Davis started out first thing after the camels, leaving Palmer, Wylde and Kirby in camp. Searched back towards the old camp again although they had assured me they had thoroughly searched all the leading creeks, but I had little faith in their search, which the result proved. At about six miles south-south-west in one of the creeks that they particularly assured me had been well-searched I, with Davis, found their traces (Bell having been sent in another direction) and after losing their track for about six or seven hours succeeded in finding them about twelve or thirteen miles south and west of this, I fancy more by accident than anything else, at about an hour and a half to sunset, and immediately started to camp where they arrived all right and are now tied up for the night ready for a morning start, and very glad am I that they are found.
Saturday, May 17.
Camp 58. Sultry, wind east. All the animals ready for a start and happy am I to turn my back on this camp which I call Rowdy Creek Falls Camp after the poor little bullock we killed here, which gave us about 70 pounds of such stuff as one could hardly imagine without seeing it–nothing like a particle of fat visible anywhere and excessively tasteless. It is fortunate our two remaining bullocks are in better condition or we would not be in the most enviable plight on our arrival at the settled districts, Queensland. Started on bearing of 335 1/2 degrees over good open country. At two and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a creek coming up from south-south-west; in that direction there are falls and sheets of rock quite across it and forming above and below them splendid reaches of deep water with numberless ducks, etc., and black macaws and gillates in thousands. Plenty of water in our course beyond the creek for half to three-quarters of a mile; then over plains intersected with thin belts of small trees, the river not far off on our right. At seven and a quarter miles changed course to 334 degrees, keeping a little farther from the river. At fifteen and three-quarter miles got to camp, found all right. Natives burning grass close upon our right on the way here to windward at a furious rate. What their particular object can be in burning so much of the country I cannot understand. No natives as yet have voluntarily shown themselves. I met the same lubra and child again near the same place that I before met her, but she did not this time attempt to fire the grass round me. A short way on further I met, or rather overtook, another lubra with two children; she tried at first to conceal herself but when she saw that she was observed she immediately set to work to burn the grass round us in all directions. However I got off the horse and walked towards her, holding out a fish-hook to her; she did not hesitate much but came forward and took it and I went on my way. Saw no natives since but look where you may, except north, and you will see fires raging. About two miles from this and on our left as we came along is a fine lagoon in the midst of timber. The tide it appears rises here now from six to ten feet. Not many fish caught.
Sunday, May 18.
Camp 59. Wind easterly; heavy bank of dark clouds to the west and the sun rose not so bright as usual. Over open plains, bad travelling; on bearing of 340 degrees at four and a quarter miles struck an immense lagoon (semicircular) and kept it on our right for nearly three-quarters of a mile, then still bore 340 degrees for one-seventh of a mile further; then changed course to 17 degrees; at half a mile struck and went through a swampy lagoon going east; at three and a quarter miles river close by on the right; at four and three-quarter miles came to large lagoons in our course; went a little to the left and passed between two, appears to be a very heavy one to the left close by. Still on bearing of 17 degrees; at one and a quarter miles further large lagoon close on right; a couple of hundred yards further on on the right is a fine creek with abundance of water and game; at eight miles crossed it still on bearing of 17 degrees; at two miles further on struck a fine large mangrove creek, a very pretty spot like an orange grove. Bearing of 321 1/2 degrees for two miles; then bearing of 35 degrees, crossed the sea running in through mangrove creeks into the flats like a sluice, and camped at a lagoon and couple of fresh water-holes close by the river at one mile. We are now perfectly surrounded by salt water, the river on one side and the mangrove creeks and salt flats on the other; I question much whether we shall be able to get to the beach with the horses. Since noon the wind changed to north-north-west; country very much burnt by the natives–it was dry enough as it was without the additional use of fire. Lots of the waterlily in bloom on all the deep waterholes and lagoons, and a very handsome tree with dark green foliage and a beautiful yellow blossom, and completely loaded with a round fruit of the size of a crab-apple, now green, and containing a number of large-sized seeds, some of which have been gathered, but I fancy they are too green to save the seed.
Monday, May 19.
Camp 60. In camp near the river where are caught occasionally by the party a few fish, amongst others a young shark which however was not eaten; started out this morning with the intention of going to the beach, taking with me Middleton, Poole, Wylde and Kirby, but was quite unsuccessful, being hindered by deep and broad mangrove creeks and boggy flats over which our horses could not travel. I consider we are now about four or five miles from the coast; there is a rise here in the river of six and two-thirds feet today but yesterday it was a foot higher; killed our three remaining sheep and will retrace our steps on 21st.
Tuesday, May 20.
Camp 60. Wind yesterday from north and north and east, at daylight this morning from north, and during the day pretty nearly from all quarters; afternoon kept more steady from east; sent Hodgkinson and Poole to the salt flats to collect what will be sufficient for our homeward rambles, or rather the Queensland settled districts, where we hope to arrive in due time, the state of the clothing of the party and want of various things–the principal thing, food, has prevented my directing the steps of the party to the settled districts of South Australia. A few natives came to the opposite side of the river this morning during flood-tide and got up in the trees, and I was a long time in getting any of them persuaded to cross; at length two of them and then another middle-aged man ventured on my displaying a tomahawk to them; they were of the ordinary stamp, and strange to say were neither circumcised nor had they any of their front teeth out, but were marked down the upper part of the arm and on the breast and back; after making them a few presents they recrossed; no information from them, but perhaps we may see something more of them on a future day. Hodgkinson and Poole returned with from forty to fifty pounds of good salt, sufficient for our purpose, and we start in the morning to proceed as far as the Falls, and cross the river there in the event of not finding a crossing earlier, which I don’t expect. The camels I am sorry to say are getting lame by the burnt stumps of reeds and strong coarse grass entering the soles of their feet, I hope they will soon recover. If the bar at the mouth of the river will admit vessels to enter there is a sufficiency of water at all tides to ship horses or stock from alongside the banks without any wharf or anything else, and good country to depasture upon, but the grasses too strong generally for sheep.
Wednesday, May 21.
Camp 60. Commenced our journey for Port Denison, wind east-south-east. I forgot to mention before that, running parallel with the river between this camp and our last, are small ironstone and conglomerate ridges, with abundance of feed and good sound ground wooded with the silver leaf, dwarf gum-looking tree, and various others of no great growth but sightly, and in the ridges, which are of no height to speak of, there are splendid freshwater lagoons and creeks; came to a lagoon about two and a half miles south-south-west of our 59 camp on nearly our old tracks; splendid feed and water. Just as we had started in the morning the natives made their appearance on the trees on the opposite side of the river but did not attempt to cross. I suppose we will see enough of them on our eastern route; this part of the country is well watered and no end of feed; plenty of it higher than I am, and a considerable variety; the remainder of our sheep, even with their long journey, fell off but little.
Thursday, May 22.
Return Camp 1. Beautiful morning; this lagoon is about twelve feet deep, surrounded by a marsh with abundance of green feed. Not a breath of wind at sunrise. West of this camp about two and a half miles off is a considerable-sized creek, by the overflow of which this lagoon is formed and fed; plenty of water in the creek and in side creeks from it, and most excellent timber on its banks and flats for building purposes; it comes up from south-west and after passing this bears off considerably to west of north. I have called it the Fisher after C.B. Fisher, Esquire, of Adelaide. Returned today by my north-going track, the approaches to the river were so abrupt that I could not get a crossing-place; some of the banks nearly precipitous and from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet high, although I saw rocks right across the river and could have gone over, but could not ascend the banks so came to camp at a lagoon close to the creek, three and a half miles north 25 1/2 degrees west of Falls camp. This creek, which comes up from the south-west and flows past this for some miles yet before it joins the river about north-north-east of this, I have called Boord’s Creek after Samuel Boord, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Friday, May 23.
Camp 2. Started on bearing of 135 degrees; at starting crossed the creek, and at three and a half miles made the river where it is joined by another of quite equal size apparently but no crossing-place; so had to go about one mile south-south-west to the Falls and crossed there with some difficulty, getting one of the camels and several of the horses down on the clefts of the rocks and barking their knees a little: just after crossing and proceeding on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees a marked tree was observed, the first we had seen, and then close by two others, evidently by Mr. Landsborough. They were respectively marked on the large tree next the Falls, a large broad-leafed tree, arrow at 1 o’clock LFE. 15, 1862. C.5. On the northernmost of the other two trees, about twenty paces to eastward of the large tree, are a large arrow at 1 o’clock and L facing the west, and on the other gumtree, a few feet north-east, is the letter E of large dimensions; facing the opposite way or east we dug round the tree but could find nothing deposited; saw the remains of broken bottles and fancied from the broad arrow being pointed upwards that a document in a small bottle might have been suspended high up in the tree and got at by the natives, but on after consideration I took the meaning of the arrow being up that up the river was his course; we saw the traces of his horses at the marked trees, but the tracks must be quite obliterated up the river or we must have seen something of them; indeed the heavy rain that inundated the whole country south commenced where we were on the 27th February, and perhaps he had it a little earlier, which may account for our not seeing any traces of him ere this. Which way he may have gone under the circumstances is hard to say, as no doubt he experienced very rough wet weather indeed, and probably was put to many shifts in consequence of the heavy overflow of the immense creeks. At scarcely one mile on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees we came to the falls of the other branch of the river, and crossed it much more easily than the other; it is about 400 to 500 yards broad and all conglomerate stone, and quite treeless or nearly so on its banks as far as the stones went, it then bore off to the south-east or perhaps east of that; at three miles further, seeing ridges ahead on our course, we camped at a swamp; lots of geese and ibis. Marked a small tree near Landsborough’s with MK (conjoined), May 22, 1862, with a knife, as we had no chisel or gouge, they being lost.
Saturday, May 24.
Camp 3. Heavy dew of late; last afternoon wind fresh from west-south-west; same this morning but light; geese and all game very difficult to be got at in this part of the country. Natives burning in all directions but do not approach us; I almost fancy they have been reproved for some of their misdeeds to some one or other of the parties here lately, from their shyness. Bearing of 95 1/2 degrees, half a mile stony flat; one mile, stony ridge and ironstone flat; two and three-quarter miles small creek; lagoon with plenty of water. North-north-east open undulations rather swampy; at three and three-quarter miles struck and crossed a small creek with a little water, stony ridges (ironstone) rusty gum, spinifex, etc.; at eleven and three-quarter miles crossed creek with water from north-east. Left creek at 11.45; stony ridges, ironstone and slate, with a little spinifex; rather thickly wooded with rusty gum, silver-leafed gum, etc.; anthills, turreted shapes. At twenty-one and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a creek on a plain between ranges; it flows north and east and takes its rise in the ranges close by to the south-west; plenty of water and feed. Camped at 3.30 p.m.; take three and a quarter miles off journey = eighteen and a half.
Sunday, May 25.
Camp 4. No dew; started at 8.35 a.m.; wind south a.m.; afternoon south-east. Over half a mile open plain; then ridges, and on top of first range at 9.53; very rocky; spinifex, rusty gum, etc. At twenty minutes past ten stony flat; at twenty-five minutes past ten crossed creek; at 12 o’clock along creek on the left; at 12.15 rocky hill on right and lagoon with water close under; top of next hill at 12.50; at 1.5 on the open plains and undulations and pretty well clear of the stones. Tier of ranges immediately on the left for a mile or so; at 2.18 crossed dry creek from west-south-west; at 2.28 came to another creek from the south-west. They are both dry where struck; followed the last one down, bearing of 60 degrees for one-third of a mile; water in creek and in a lagoon on the east side; travelling about six hours besides the one-third of a mile. Creek flows to north-east; distance about eighteen miles.
Monday, May 26.
Camp 5. I find that my watch, the only one in going order or rather disorder, gains eleven minutes in the hour with the regulator hard back to slow–now and then, without any apparent cause, stops; until by sundry shakings and bumps it is prevailed upon to go again–which is most unsatisfactory, situated as I am here, in calculating distances. Wind all night strong from south-east to south-south-east and very cold; no dew. The waters are drying up very fast; during the afternoon of yesterday the country looked well; nice open ranges on all sides with a large space of open country, well grassed in the centre. Started at 8.15 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 9.17 passed till this time rather thickly wooded (low) small ironstone, pebbly country, well grassed–ridgy on both sides; at 9.17 entered open plains; large creek ahead; first part of plain much subject to inundation; at 11.24 lagoon apparently about one mile south. Hills cease south about four miles; passed a couple of belts of timber, mistaken in the distance for large creek. At 1 p.m. swampy (dry); at 1.15 small creek with plenty of water and feed, from west-south-west to north-east or east-north-east; at 1.30 made a swamp with good feed and water. Camped; distance about seventeen miles. The horizon appears to be one dense cloud of fire and smoke on our way and on all sides of us; saw no natives.
Tuesday, May 27.
Camp 6. Cold keen wind from south-south-east. The camels I am sorry to say are very lame, caused by the burnt reeds running through the soles of their feet whilst near the coast; boots of leather have been made for the worst of them but they seem to suffer much, and it pulls the flesh off them more than their work. Started at 8.40 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 9.15 lagoon close by on the left; country all burnt. At 9.45 struck large creek with abundance of water, boggy where struck; spelled, looking for a crossing till 10.5. Went down the creek north-east or east-north-east till 10.16; then on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees, till at 10.23 struck what I take to be Morning Inlet, about 150 yards broad with reeds and grass, no water at crossing; 10.42 left Morning Inlet where we watered horses. At 2.53 p.m. changed course to 32 1/2 degrees for a belt of timber, thinking to camp; no water. At 3.12 p.m. changed course to 95 1/2 degrees till three minutes to five, when changed course to 135 degrees until 5.39, then on bearing of 75 degrees till 6.21; no water, but a very little drop about half a mile back, to which place I returned and found there was even less than I expected. This is a most deceitful part of the country; every five minutes you are in expectation of coming to water but it was our fate to meet none but this muddy little drop, barely sufficient for our own use, and none for the animals. From about 3 p.m. till we camped heavy belts of swampy box and large gums; many patches of reeds and coarse grass; water recently dried up; and belts of plain. Numerous birds seen–cockatoos, hawks, crows, galahs, etc. etc. etc.
Wednesday, May 28.
Camp 7. The bullocks (two) with Palmer and Kirby on horseback and Maitland on foot did not come up to camp last night, but immediately after sunrise the two horsemen and bullocks arrived, but not Maitland, he being on foot from having injured his horse so much as to render him unfit to ride, as is his usual way with every horse he gets, taking no care of him whatever. I told him when he injured the last that if he did the same to this one he should walk; and good to my word I made him walk yesterday. Rode a short distance at sunrise, having heard some native companions calling out after daylight, and found within a quarter of a mile of us, almost within view, two splendid lagoons. Immediately returned to camp and moved it at once to the nearest one; it bears from last night’s camp nearly due south, a quarter of a mile or little over; the other lagoon is distant about 300 yards south-east of this. Great abundance of feed. As the camels are lame and in need of a spell and we want to kill a bullock and Maitland not come up yet I have made up my mind to stop here till all are put in travelling order. In the morning the wind bitterly cold from south-east to south-south-east. Middleton has been laid up for the last three days and lost the use of his legs yesterday afternoon but hope he will soon be all right again. He is much better today; I should get on indifferently without him. Although we met with no water coming along last afternoon I have no doubt but that there was plenty of it, as the natives were burning everywhere as we came along, particularly close on our right. It is still a splendid country for grass and timber. As soon as we moved to camp we had one of the bullocks (Boxer) up and killed; he is very fair beef. The other is not so good, but stands being kept in hobbles; whereas this one would not or he would have been kept till last on account of his better condition. Providentially Maitland made his way to camp late this afternoon. Had we been obliged to go on again a stage without luckily hitting upon this place I think he would have gone frantic as he appeared in a sad state of mind on his arrival; I hope it will be a caution to him in future to see to his horse better.
Thursday, May 29.
Camp 8. Wind as yesterday and cool. I am sorry to say I have three of the party on the sicklist–all seized first with cold shivering then excessive heat, ultimately a numbness and want of proper use of their limbs, sickness, and want of appetite and headache. They are Middleton, Hodgkinson, and Kirby. They are confined to bed; but I hope with a little care will soon recover, as it is an awkward part of the world to be taken ill in. Getting the meat jerked and putting the pack-bags, etc., to rights. The other bullock as yet appears to stay contented; he came up during the night and took a survey of his dead companion and quietly returned to his feed.
Friday, May 30.
Camp 8. Wind as usual, south-east to south-south-east; keen and cold, the day pretty warm. The invalids I think a little better, but far from well. The sore-footed camels improve; but my impression is that their feet will not thoroughly get well till they arrive in the settled districts where they can have a spell for some time. Meat-drying, bag-mending, horse-shoeing, with other little matters. If these lagoons are permanent (and no doubt there are many more) this is a splendid pastoral country, feed good enough for any stock and timber to suit almost any purpose. There are here several fruit-bearing trees but unfortunately the stone happens to be the largest portion of the fruit and at present none of them are ripe. A vast quantity of large beans are here on a runner, the same that Dr. Leichhardt used, when burnt, for coffee and rather seemed to like. None of our party seem to care trying it, although we have now nothing but meat and salt and from four to five pounds of flour to make gruel in case of sickness. All have been till within the last few days in excellent health and nowise short of appetite. From the time we are out beyond what was anticipated I suppose the people of Adelaide have given us up as lost. I hope however they will not think it necessary to send a search party out after us.
Saturday, May 31.
Patients about the same. Middleton rather worse. Wind in the morning from south-east and south-south-east, at midday changed to east, then north and afterwards to north-north-west. Meat nearly dry.
Sunday, June 1.
Still in Camp 8. Patients about the same, very weak and feverish, but must endeavour to make a move tomorrow. Wind from north, north-west to west, and rather warm. Had a visit from a number of natives, they do not appear so shy as usual; they do not circumcise but have one or two teeth out in front of upper jaw. From what I could see the young men are not allowed to talk, but merely making a hissing and twittering noise to make themselves understood, and pointing and motioning with the hand whilst the old men do the talking business. I could make but little out of them. I made them a few presents with which they seemed much pleased; got a few words of their language and with a promise to return tomorrow they took their leave. They are not at all such a good sample as are at the lakes north and east of Lake Hope. They say there is plenty of water ahead on the course I intend to take, but from want of knowledge of their language could glean nothing of the parties that came in search to the north coast; but that they have seen whites was quite evident from their knowledge of the use of the axe. They seemed much in dread of the camels, the only animals that were near the camp at the time, and expressed by motions a desire that they should be driven away.
Monday, June 2.
Camp 8. The heaviest dew last night I have experienced for many years, accompanied by a dense fog till between 8 and 9 a.m. Wind from west-north-west. Palmer attacked with same fever that the rest have. The others very weak but I think a little better. Made a start this morning at 9.20 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 10.14 lagoon on right; at 10.27 crossed creek with plenty of water from south-south-west; at 11.50 lagoon on right–all forest land with a greater number of the paper-bark tree than any other; at 11.15 much spinifex; at 11.20 creek close on left with plenty of water; at 11.35 crossed creek, it goes off into many lagoons southwards and eastwards; good grass and plenty of water, not much spinifex, the country rather too thickly wooded to be open forest. Halted at lagoons on the left at 1.20 coming from south of east and flowing to north of west. Although this country is rather too thickly wooded to be called open forest it is still an excellent pastoral country, the grasses sweet and plenty of water, the lagoons being covered with nymphans or waterlily, and the soil sandy. We passed many patches of burnt ground, some burnt earlier than the rest, having green grass nine to twelve inches high. Stopped short today on account of the patients who are very weak, Kirby in particular; distance travelled twelve and a half miles. In the afternoon wind from west-north-west. Saw nothing of the natives this morning before starting. Several palms seen through the forest, a few close by this camp of no great height; the feed in general is very dry except in the neighbourhood of the creeks or lagoons.
Tuesday, June 3.
Camp 9. Wind south; considerable dew but nothing to the night before. There is a good deal of spinifex here and the timber is nothing like so strong or good as around yesterday’s camp and for miles on all sides of it. Three creeks appear to rise here and join and become one, all from the southward of east to north of west. Started at 9.8 a.m., the horses having strayed some distance back to the burnt feed. Bearing 95 1/2 degrees, open forest with spinifex; at 10.30 crossed small creek (dry); at 10.45 crossed small sandy creek (dry) water on the right; at 11.30 watered horses and then crossed creek from west-south-west to east-north-east, small creek from south joins close by; at 1.25 crossed creek with water; at 2.12 crossed sandy creek from north-east to south and another close by, then scrub and rather thick forest till 5.50, then camped no water; distance about twenty-six and a half to twenty-seven miles. One of the horses (Harry) after being ridden into camp appeared to blow a good deal and from little to more till at last he got seriously ill and died at 9 p.m. He must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake.
Wednesday, June 4.
Camp 10, or Harry’s Camp, after our dead horse. Wind southerly. Started at 7.18 a.m., still on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; crossed sandy creek (dry) from north-east to east-south-east; at 9.52 crossed same creek still dry running to north of east; at 9.15 recrossed same; at 9.20 recrossed; at 9.25 recrossed the creek not far off on the right; country rather scrubby. Sent Hodgkinson to follow the creek round to ascertain if water existed in it and if so to stop or overtake us. Went on till about 10.30 when Hodgkinson overtook us having found sufficient water for our use. Returned at once to it about a mile back and camped. The old female camel done up; will leave her saddle as it is much knocked about and divide her load between the others and the horses; she may follow which I think she will; distance on course to camp about eight and a half miles. The patients improving, Kirby remains very weak and spiritless. This morning wind cool from southward; during the day changed round to east-south-east and in the evening to west-south-west and rather cloudy. This is a wretched little creek, for some miles sandy, now in its bed are layers of stone and clay; it frequently loses itself on the flat land. The timber in the forest consists of two kinds of papery-leafed bark trees, box, gum, and a very handsome tree, leafless but bears a flower, besides various shrubs, etc., and spinifex.
Thursday, June 5.
Camp 11. Mild morning, wind from southward and cool, no dew. Started at 9.4 on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees. Creek close on right. At 9.37 crossed creek. At 9.48 receives a tributary from east-south-east (no water). Very scrubby for a few miles and then more open forest. At 12.38 came to a large and broad creek or mass of creeks or river. Water not abundant on account of its being sandy in its bed. As the camels have had to be tied up for the last two nights, the country being so densely timbered, I stay here and camp. Followed the river down about three-quarters of a mile west-north-west, which appears to be its course. Here it is upwards of 300 yards broad, banks no great height. Distance on course ten and three-quarter miles. Wind about 11 a.m. changed round to east and north of east and warm; as we got to camp it blew gently from west-north-west. Patients except Kirby mending gradually. I should imagine the river to be the Flinders but if so it must turn after it passes this very much to the west to enter the sea near where it is laid down on the charts. Its bed pretty well the whole way across is wooded with the paper-like barked, narrow-leafed tree, and a few other shrubs. It appears as if there was not at all a heavy flood down it this season as few or none of the trees are washed down.
Friday, June 6.
Camp 12. Dull morning, rather cloudy. Patients much improved. The female camel left behind yesterday has not made her appearance yet, still I have little doubt but that she will follow. Not a breath of wind at sunrise. Started at 8.17 a.m. Still on general course bearing of 95 1/2 degrees over open-timbered, well-grassed land. Afterwards at 10.11 came to and crossed same river from north-north-east to south-south-west. It was not far off all the morning to the right. Spelled seven minutes till 10.18. At 10.36 recrossed river where it is stony and rocky with sand in its bed, coming from south. At 11.3 struck river on right but did not cross. Followed along its north-east bank till 11.15. Still close by at 11.27. At 12.50 crossed small sandy creek from south. Spelled for six minutes till 12.56. Then bearing along the creek till 1.11 p.m. on bearing of 325 degrees three-quarters of a mile; distance on proper course 95 1/2 degrees thirteen and a quarter miles. Just after camping I found that what I take to be the River Binoe is about 120 yards east of us, flowing about 322 degrees, with a lagoon on east bank, with yellow lilies. The small creek we are camped on has plenty of water. The Binoe River has none just here. All the creeks and the river have lots of cork-screw palms in and near them. Good forest all day and abundance of grass.
Saturday, June 7.
Camp 13. But little dew last night. The old camel has not come on; perhaps she will remain until she freshens up a little and then shape her way south or east. No wind, beautiful morning. Hodgkinson shot a native companion; have seen no game for some days. Started at 8.40 on bearing of 110 degrees. In four minutes crossed the Binoe. At 9.8 came to and recrossed river or creek Binoe. At 9.45 crossed creek with rocky bed and with water from east by south. Spelled five minutes till 9.50. Quartz ridges. At twelve o’clock spurs running to south and west. At 1.40 from top of hill dismal view seen ahead; nothing but bare burnt up ranges. Struck the River Flinders or one of its largest branches at 2.18 p.m. Crossed over and camped at a long sheet of water in its bed on south-eastern side. Distance on course sixteen and three-quarter miles. The journey today has been over thick scrubby forest which tore our pack-bags a good deal. From 9 a.m. the ground was a good deal strewed over with small ironstone pebbles, not bronzed as they usually are, till 9.45 then ridges and ranges of quartz and sandstone. Drainage south and west. A high range on the left, some 6 to eight miles off, wooded to its top. Immediately below it runs the Binoe I think. Course of the range is about 100 degrees. This watercourse comes here from the north-north-east or even north of that, and bears away to the south-south-west as far as discernible. Wind during the day from east to south-east. As this is a good place for killing I will kill our last bullock as he has become a nuisance in driving the horses by rushing among them on the march and out through them in front and on all sides, causing them to travel in an unsteady manner and assisting to further tear the bags. All the patients getting on well. Natives burning down this creek or river some little distance and ahead and a little to the left of our course today, the first we have seen for a few days. I omitted to mention a couple of days ago falling in with a number of frameworks about six feet long by four wide and three high, risen by four forks placed on the ground, then side pieces, and the top covered with similar pieces closely all over lengthways, and on top of that grass; then fires at head, feet and both sides. I should say to sleep on during wet weather. Killed our bullock but little fat on him, but he is not of a fat kind.
Sunday, June 8.
Camp 14. Wind from east and north of east in the morning. Cutting up and drying the beef; the fat drying won’t detain us. A great abundance of the River McKenzie bean here on the sandy parts of the watercourse. Here the watercourse is about 100 yards broad, in many places bergues of sand separating it into different channels. Wild dogs abundant. Saw traces of kangaroo, emu, and wallaby on our way here yesterday. Wind changed during the afternoon to south-east and south-south-east. This sheet of water is from 250 to 300 yards long and twenty yards broad. Kirby much better and the others getting quite convalescent.
Monday, June 9.
In Camp 14. Drying the beef, shoeing, mending pack-bags, and various other little things etc. No dew last night. Still morning. Most beautiful weather. What little wind there is is from south by west but hardly perceptible. I took Middleton with me to go out to reconnoitre and feel our way for next stage through the hills ahead. Found that the watercourse comes from north or a little west of north from between the heavy-timbered ranges to north and west, and bald hills, or nearly so, to north and east, and probably winds round nearer its source more to the east. A number of thinly-wooded hills with small creeks running from them to west and south appear to run round south for some distance, perhaps ten to fifteen miles or more. Beyond the highest in the distance the natives are busy burning, and this leads me to suppose they are on the other or principal branch of the Flinders River; but I shall know more about it in a few days. Abundance of water in the small creeks as far east and south as I went today and some lagoons in the flats. The natives commence their range of fires from 20 degrees west of south to 30 degrees east of south, and I think I shall find that it will meet me on my course. Wind in the afternoon from south by east, strong occasionally, towards evening it died away. Beef now dry. We start from here tomorrow if all is right and we have nothing more to detain us. The horses are shod except one and that one, one of the best, no shoes being large enough. I hope he will be able to get along. Our food now consists of about 230 pounds of dry and salt beef, everything else in the shape of food gone but I think we will have sufficient to carry us into the settled districts of Queensland on the Burdekin River where we will be able to get a fresh supply. We have a little salt and amongst the lot about half a pound of soap.
Wednesday, June 11.
Camp 14. The bed of this branch here is one mass of concrete and conglomerate, with small and large masses of ironstone, just as if it had lately escaped from a furnace, with pebbles and pieces of quartz, some sandstone, and sandstone in which is a mass of quartz. In many other places it is quite a bed of sand its full width, and in other places separated into different branches by bergues of alluvial deposit and sand, with trees of different kinds and shrubs and reeds upon them. There is a table-topped hill down on or near the north-west bank a few miles, lightly wooded from north-north-east to south-west and apparently stony. Not a breath of wind at daylight; afterwards in forenoon from east-south-east. Started at 8.30 a.m. on bearing of 110 degrees, for first few miles through open forest intersected with small creeks flowing to west and south, some containing water with lagoons on the flat occasionally, the drainage of the ranges to the eastward and north of our course. The spurs coming down close on our left stony but well-grassed and very lightly timbered, in fact nearly bald ridges. Over first stony ridge at 10.10 and considerable-sized double creek at 10.17, dry at crossing. Top of next high range at 11.15; five and a quarter miles. Very extensive view. Spelled on top of hill waiting for the camels for forty-five minutes till noon. Then started on bearing of 127 1/2 degrees for south-west end of large range in the distance that would otherwise come right across my original course. There is an immense large black circular range from 127 1/2 degrees round by east to west-north-west, with reaphooky faces and scrubby tops, and a number of detached conical and coronet-topped hills. At 1 p.m. water in a rocky creek close to the right. Watered the horses. Spelled ten minutes till 1.10. Crossed creek at 1.15. Sandy, scrubby forest. Crossed another sandy creek at 1.57. Crossed another sandy creek at 2.3. At 3.15 on top of rocky mulga hill with granite and mass of quartz pebbles. Some difficulty in getting over and down a rocky range (granite principally). Struck a small creek with sufficient water for our use and good feed, and camped at 3.50 at distance of ten and three-quarters to eleven miles on last bearing. Distance travelled about sixteen miles. Course of the ranges close by, the one that we last crossed and the one just close by before us, 40 degrees west of south with the drainage in same direction.
Thursday, June 12.
Camp 15. Dewless night, wind at daylight east-north-east. Started at 8.6 a.m. on bearing of 127 1/2 degrees, top of first mulga range after passing over very rough ranges; at 9.20 struck creek north-east of the large range I am making for, watered horses, etc. After scrambling and creeping over rocks and precipices arrived at south-west end of large hill; at 10.15 at about three miles spelled for thirty-four minutes till 10.39. From top of hill on which there is a little spinifex you command an extensive view; the whole country is black and dismal in appearance in every direction; a fine large range appears in the distance from 100 to 150 degrees, with well-defined gaps, etc., drainage all to the southward and westward. Now rounded this hill and went on a bearing of 100 degrees; just after beginning to descend traced a party of horses going northward under eastern side of large range, apparently when the ground was wet. Descended much more easily than we ascended; we got into a fine valley with good timber and plenty of grass, and at 11.50 about three miles came to a running creek from northward. Traces of a hurricane along the creek, tops of all the trees on the ground or suspended in the air by bits of bark; the timber on each bank does not appear here at least to have been touched. Obliged to stop here as Maitland has not overtaken us; he stayed behind at the camp for some purpose or other and did not afterwards come up; I am afraid he has missed the tracks as it is stony and rocky. This large hill is composed of sandstone of various degrees of fineness, quartz, pebbles, etc., principally; distance travelled six miles direct. Here the creek or river is timbered across with the narrow-leafed papery-barked tree; some short distance up the stream from here this description of timber nearly gives place to gums. I have no doubt but that some day or other this place will be taken up as a station. Fish are in the deep holes, some that I saw about a couple of pounds weight. I also saw some young guardfish from nine to twelve inches long and many smaller. Lots of euro and kangaroo but very shy. Maitland made his appearance shortly after camping.
Friday, June 13.
Camp 16. Dewless night, wind from east by north. I take this to be the main branch of the Flinders; the hills on its right proper banks are very bold and must be over 3000 feet high. If they are not before named I have called them Gregory’s Ranges after Augustus Gregory, Esquire, now Surveyor-General of Queensland. The point I changed my course at yesterday I have called Mount Wildash after F. Wildash, Esquire, of Queensland. Immediately east of Mount Wildash close by is another bluff equally high which I have called Hawker’s Bluff after the Honourable G.C. Hawker. Started at 7.58 a.m. on bearing of 100 degrees for the southern end of dark range in the distance; at 8.30 south of conspicuous sandstone rocky peak which I have called Morphett’s Peak after John Morphett, Esquire, of Adelaide; dip of about 35 degrees in the sandstone to about north-east or a little more east. Kept the above course three miles over good travelling country; spelled a few minutes then up and down and over very rocky ranges, in many places precipitous and most intricate travelling from 9 a.m. till 11.30; three and a half miles farther, then table-land till 1.50, the drainage is to the east, no doubt to go south after it has cleared the rocky ranges; spelled, watering the camels from 2.25 to 2.45 p.m., up to this eight and three-quarter miles further. Commenced ascending another mass of similar rocky ranges; stopped at 3.40 two and a quarter miles further to look out a track to endeavour to get out of this awful place. Started again at 4.55 p.m. after spelling one and a quarter hours, could not get the animals over. Went back till 5.22 one mile on our track, or to sixteen and a half miles on bearing 100 degrees, to try another place, southerly and westerly along and over very rocky ranges till 6.15, about two miles on average bearing of 215 to 220 degrees. Came to a small sandy creek, then another, where by digging we will be able to give the animals some water, there is plenty of feed; it has been a very distressing day for the poor brutes; distance sixteen and a half miles on course of 100 degrees, and two miles on 220 degrees; gave each of the animals from two to five buckets. Although when first seen the little water that was visible did not exceed a quart with a few small dead fish about 1 1/2 inches long, but after digging and clearing away the sand we got sufficient for tonight and tomorrow morning. It has been close and oppressive which has added to the distress of the horses and camels. One of the latter, an old Indian, could hardly be persuaded to come along. Very light rain commenced about dark or a little after, but I doubt whether it will come to anything; however it will damp the grass for the poor animals and make it more palatable.
Saturday, June 14.
Camp 17. Only rained sufficient to damp the grass. Still cloudy; not a breath of wind at daylight. Craggy hills to commence the journey with this morning. This sandy watercourse flows to west and south, a mere narrow channel, but it was of much service to us; we would have fared badly for the poor animals had we not fallen in with it, insignificant as it appears. Our pack-bags got sadly torn yesterday with broken timber and rocks, all of which latter is sandstone. We passed much splendid splitting timber on our way yesterday, stringy-bark and other trees I don’t know the names of, but useful timber. Crossed the creek at 8.38 a.m. on bearing of south by east till 8.55 three-quarters mile; spelled looking out on top of hill sixteen minutes, then on east course chiefly; at 11.30 six miles south one mile from the hill I was making for yesterday. Still on easterly course up and over a rugged and scrubby range till 2 p.m. about three and three-quarter miles. Lost an hour in searching for one of the horses that bolted and kicked off all his load prior to this. Boco (horse) obliged to be left behind. Then about north-north-east descended a range very steep and rough, then spinifex precipices, sharp ledges of rocks and every roughness one could imagine for about two miles or thereabouts, chiefly in the creek, then creek bore about east by north to east-north-east which I followed till after dark about six and a half miles, altogether about nineteen miles. Obliged to leave another horse (Governor) in the creek, fairly knocked up. He has been very soft although the highest priced horse of the lot, one bought of Mr. Boord for 50 pounds. There is another will have to be left if the country does not immediately change for the better; fortunately we found water in several places in the bed of the creek or the horses would have fared badly–a little grass of a very coarse nature just in the sides of the creek, the rest all spinifex and scrub, the latter the camels greedily devour; the rough country has told much on the feet of the latter, another of which, the old Indian, I am afraid will have to be left behind. First pines seen today since crossing Lake Torrens.
Sunday, June 15.
Camp 18. Very cloudy, every appearance of rain. Started at 9.10 along the bed of the creek still about east by north; at 10.35 three miles the creek receives a considerable tributary from the south-east, in fact it is the main channel and the one we are in the tributary, then it flowed north 15 degrees west to north or nearly so till 11.45 when the horses knocked up, must camp and give them the rest of the day and probably tomorrow; on this latter course about two miles; distance travelled between five and six miles. After getting to camp ascended the hills on the right or eastern side of the river and never beheld such a fearfully grand country in my life, nothing but towers and pinnacles of sandstone conglomerate, fit for nothing but wallaby and euro; and if it is for a thousand years from this time it can be used by no other animals but them and the natives as it is at present. The apparent course of this river from the greatest height I could get to is about 305 degrees, going in the first place after passing the camp a little more north for three or four miles–it is a terrible country. Should the river, on a closer examination tomorrow, prove to go as I imagine it does, I have nothing for it but to retrace my steps and go up the main branch and try and cross the range at top. Still very cloudy and looks as if it would rain every minute. I wish I had a little more food, if I had I would give the animals a week here but I have barely sufficient for six days. Oaks have been seen today in the bed of the river since the junction of the two channels. The river runs below the junction of the two branches for some distance, but here it is dry its full width which is about 150 to 200 yards and is very picturesque, with beautiful drooping gums, papery-bark trees, and various others, and the bold cliffs towering one above the other with awful grandeur. No one can conceive how much effect the travel of the last few days and the shortness of nourishing food has had upon our animals which ten days ago were fit for anything–always excepting this description of awful country. Wind from all points of the compass.
Monday, June 16.
Camp 19. In the bed of the River Gilbert (I take it to be) no room for camp anywhere else. The country is literally teeming with euro and wallaby, but as the natives are about in the rocks and precipices hunting we have no chance of shooting any. Very cloudy yet; rained a little during the night but nothing of any consequence; we cannot now be more than from sixty to seventy miles from the River Burdekin but from this spot utterly impracticable. Had to come down this length for anything like feed; traces of numbers of natives and their fires still burning. Went up the rocks and precipices on the eastern side of the river, and found that a high range extends eastwards, running north-west and south-east, completely blocking us in from here. Rode down the river to see if there is any likelihood of our getting out east by a tributary that it receives about one and a half miles down but found not. Rained a little in the forenoon and slight showers during the afternoon. Found that the old Indian camel (Narro) was unable to get up and go about to feed so, considering that the horses and the two remaining camels (Arabs) wanted a spell for a few days, I resolved upon killing the old camel and using him whilst here to save our dried beef, reluctantly as he is everything but a favourite morsel, but when we are compelled it is no use hesitating so had him shot; and firstly had his liver stewed or steamed, which I must say was the most extraordinary morsel I ever attempted to eat; it was as dry and juiceless and of as little flavour as if it had never formed a component part of any living animal; scarcely any of the party could touch it.
Tuesday, June 17.
In Camp 19, sandy bed of river. Rained pretty heavily during the night in showers. Cut up the meat of the camel to dry but the weather is very unfavourable; the rest of him eats much better than the liver; the heart is quite as good as a bullock’s and the meat, considering the condition of the animal, not at all as tough as one would expect; the party after starving for two or three meals have quietly taken to him now and rather like the meat.
Wednesday, June 18.
Still in Camp 19–not the most enviable place in the world. Heavy dew last night. I am afraid the meat we are attempting to dry will be a failure on account of the moist state of the weather. I was sadly grieved on return of the party that went to see after the horses to learn that one of our very best horses (Rowdy) was lying dead a short distance down the river, still warm; he must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake; at present we will feel his loss much as he was so strong and always kept fat. Although the meat will not be quite dry I will see and make a start out of this in the morning in case it may be some poisonous herb that may happen to be in the bed of the river. I will return up the river to where the main branch joined the tributary we came down, and try by following it for some distance to get some place where I can ascend the ranges to the east, but I expect it to be a work of great difficulty; however that I will think nothing of if I only succeed and get the animals all over safe. The weather seems taking up now.
Thursday, June 19.
Camp 19. Beautiful morning, not a breath of wind. Try what success we will have up the main branch of this river in finding a passage over the range to eastward. Have got rid of everything we can possibly spare and that will now be of little use to us and had them buried on the south-west side of creek, under the creek side of large broken-off standing dead tree, and up the bank about forty yards from a large gumtree, with a large square patch of bark taken off and small arrow at 4 o’clock in the direction should they be sought for, which I much doubt. The horses don’t look at all the thing I am sorry to see, knowing that they have some heavy work immediately before them; even before attempting to ascend the ranges we have to travel in the bed of the river where the sand is excessively heavy and trying on the poor animals in their present leg-weary state and want of condition. I never saw animals fall off so suddenly in my life. Followed our tracks back to the junction of the two branches about two and a half miles, then took the left-hand or south-east branch, found it improve much more than I had anticipated; the rocky hills recede occasionally and leave a nice bank of grass, but most of it recently burnt by the natives; on our left the rock appeared now to be chiefly slate, while on the right it still remained sandstone and quartz; the bed is broad and generally very open and sandy, upon which we have principally to travel; followed it for about eight miles in about an east-south-east course. From here (Camp 20) for some distance (seen from a hill here) the river appears to receive from the east by south generally plenty of water at intervals and generally at those places running; no doubt all the way it runs either over or under the land. Where we are now encamped the river is upwards of 150 yards broad. We found on turning out the camel meat to air that it was quite putrid and had consequently to throw the whole of it away; at this time it is a very great loss to us, the loss of upwards of seventy pounds of food. Even with the spell our horses have had they come along very indifferently, and I am almost afraid some more of them will have to be left behind as I have not sufficient food to wait spelling for them till they get flesh; there does not appear to be the same nourishment in the grass that there is almost anywhere else. Saw the smoke of natives a few miles ahead of us; I suppose we will see something of them tomorrow. Shot a new pigeon, will try to preserve the skin. Some figs were got by some of the party this morning before starting; I ate one of them apparently ripe, it was very insipid, the principal part of them were full of small flies. Distance travelled by bed of river not direct about ten and a half miles.
Friday, June 20.
Camp 20. Heavy dew last night; sky completely overcast with very heavy rainy-looking clouds. We have now on hand dried meat sufficient for about five and a half days, at the rate of one pound three ounces per day without salt or anything else, which is not very heavy diet. I never saw a country where less game was to be obtained; what euro and wallaby are here are so very wild there is no getting near them. Just here the hills are not so high or so rough as some distance further down; I hope they may continue so, that the animals won’t be distressed more than possible. Not a breath of wind this morning. Our course as seen from a hill close by last night will be about east-south-east for some distance this morning. Started at 8.10 a.m.; at three and a quarter miles came to a barrier right across from range to range, and after considerable detention succeeded in finding a road on our left round the range that the barriers form from; at four miles came to where one branch (the largest) comes from the south with plenty of water in its bed in the stone and rocks; the other branch is considerably to the east so will try it, although it does not at all look a watery branch but is much more in the direction I want to go. About the same course, over much more open country, hilly and thinly clad with small ironbark timber, and is chiefly of slate formation and well-grassed, but no water in its bed as far as we went, say about five and a half miles further where we fortunately got sufficient at the junction of a small side creek with the main watercourse to suit our immediate wants. It is perfectly surprising to see such a broad channel with such ranges close by and no water. One other of our best horses obliged to be left behind today; he has been ailing for some short time and all at once refused to proceed. A few kangaroo seen today. I trust we will fall in with plenty of water tomorrow, our horses never do so well as when they can go to water themselves instead of watering out of buckets. For some distance the creek bears to north of east; in fact the next bend, about a mile long, is from north or so, when it appears to turn to south and east. We managed occasionally during today to get upon the slopes from the hills on either side of the creek, which was much better travelling than in the soft sandy bed of the creek, which I have called Stuart’s Creek after Mr. McDouall Stuart, the indefatigable explorer of South Australia. This part would make a good sound sheep country if water at all times was obtainable. A number of oaks all along this branch, and more just here on our left side of the creek where the water is, and we are encamped.
Saturday, June 21.
Camp 21. The clouds of yesterday passed over with only a few drops of rain just after starting. Today cloudy again; wind from east by north; started at 7.53 a.m. As the horses came in to water, just before starting, we found that the horse Jamie had come up during the night but looks hardly able to drag his legs after him. It is a great pity as he is a splendid hackney and is a great loss at present. The narrow-leafed papery-barked tree grows on the sides of the creek to a great size and height, completely overtopping the gums, oaks, etc. There is very little feed in this part of the country that the camels are fond of. At about four miles, creek running, with plenty of feed; for three and a half miles further the creek comes from north-east by north, then a little more east. General course today about north-east and distance travelled about sixteen miles, when we fortunately got sufficient water in a barrier in the creek, evidently from recent rain, the bed of the creek otherwise perfectly dry. Three more horses knocked up and obliged to be left behind, namely Bawley, Fidget, and Camel (mare) although good travelling. Ascended hill at camp and found that the first leading main range bears east and about 40 degrees north, which I intend making for.
Sunday, June 22.
Camp 22. Wind from east by north and cloudy; obliged to lighten further our load by leaving the tents and spare pack-saddles and bags here on north side of creek; started at 8.20 a.m. The barrier here is composed of a yellow close-grained stone impregnated with small specks of quartz, and the hills on either side, pieces of granite of the same kind are also strewed in the bed, brought down by the currents. A few oak-trees immediately above this camp. Passed over hilly well-grassed ironbark granite country on a bearing of about 90 degrees (but first of all a little to the north of that, and afterwards as much to the south, which equalised the bearing) for the point of a range which I mean to ascend. Got to it at eleven and a half miles; then quarter of a mile along top of range, the ascent of which we found excessively difficult, and had two of our best horses nearly killed by falling backwards down the hill, and only being brought up from going to the bottom and getting smashed by some trees and rocks; the camels especially we had to unpack twice (two ascents) and I once thought we were not to get them up they are so weak, especially the smallest one–a splendid little animal. Then we got a comparatively easy descent and made for north end of a heavy range close by on a bearing of 85 degrees. At three-quarters of a mile got to the end of it, over rough country intercepted with innumerable creeks, hills, rock, and timber; then bore east-south-east for distant bluff of range along well-grassed but very hilly sound country for two miles. Could hardly get the small camel along, and no appearance of water, and it within an hour of sunset. Went down the spur of a small range we were on and providentially at the bottom found in a little blind creek sufficient excellent water for ourselves and all the animals. I’m sure I don’t know what the poor animals would have done had we not found them water; and to our uneasiness two of the men, Maitland and Kirby, were seized with sickness on the road and useless to us. I found after getting over the large range that I could have got round it had I kept south, and by travelling a circuitous route, but from the western side of the range the way I came was the only way visible that was passable, and it was nearly as impassable as it was possible for it to be. From the top of it you command a very extensive view in all directions. To the south in the distance is a fine long leading range, apparently running from west-north-west to east-south-east; to the north and west high black ranges; to the east heavy dark ranges but don’t appear united. Drainage can’t make out.
Monday, June 23.
Camp 23. Heavy dew, cloudy morning. Will be obliged to stay here to recruit the animals where there is plenty of excellent feed and sufficient water, and am sorry to say kill a horse and endeavour to dry or jerk him, in the meantime I hope the weather may prove favourable for that purpose. I did hope not to be driven to killing the horses; had I for a moment thought so when at the Gulf I would have shaped my course south for Adelaide, but I never dreamt of such a rough country as I found in this direction, Walker and Landsborough will have found it so likewise. Ascended one of the ridges close by but could not tell which way the principal drainage went, it is open forest land from north of east by south round to north of west for a great extent of miles, with heavy ranges beyond, and a couple of breaks apparently in the range at 110 and 145 degrees, which to take I have not yet made up my mind, and the horses are so weak that I don’t wish to take more out of them than can possibly be avoided, and reconnoitring at present would only cause probably another horse or two to be left, which is everything but advisable. Wind was fresh during the night. Killed one of the horses had of Mr. Scott, being most suitable for our purpose, and an excellent packhorse he was, always having carried during our travels one of the heaviest packs, and was one of the unfortunate animals that fell down the range yesterday. It is a little cloudy but I hope it will blow off and give us favourable weather for drying his flesh; ate his heart, liver, and kidneys, and found them excellent made into a sort of hash with a little remnant of pepper we had.
Tuesday, June 24.
Camp 23. A little dew early part of the night, but little the remainder. Keen cold wind from all quarters, chiefly from north-east to south-east and clear sky; if it continues will suit our meat-drying well, which will be of vast advantage to us; to lose the flesh of another animal as we did the camel’s would indeed be a serious loss. Our two patients Maitland and Kirby deadly sick; whatever can be wrong with them I can’t imagine; the latter has been ailing off and on for some time and has got dispirited in the rough country. Busy this morning cutting up the flesh of the horse and tying it on the lines to dry; had he been in good condition it would take a good judge to distinguish his flesh from beef; it makes most excellent hash and soup. One of our horses has mysteriously got lame in his stifle since coming here, I hope not permanently.
Wednesday, June 25.
Camp 23. Wind the same as yesterday and fluctuating–very heavy dew last night and very cold. The last two days have been warm and suit our purpose for meat-drying admirably. The two invalids are still very unwell, but trust they will be better by the time the meat is thoroughly dry and cause us no unnecessary detention till we get into the stations on the river Burdekin, where they can have a change of food. The horses appear to benefit on this spell and feed.
Thursday, June 26.
Still in Camp 23. Heavy dew, foggy morning till about 10 a.m. when the meat was hung out to dry. Wind from all quarters but turned out rather a nice warm day, and will be about sufficient to dry our meat to enable us to start in the morning. Shoeing some of the horses that cast their shoes over the rough country, and preparing for a start; the lame horse is a little better; the invalids I cannot say are much improved. There is a great scope of good pastoral land here but rather hilly. I have made up my mind to try what appears to be the easiest and, from here, the straightest course on a bearing of 110 degrees. The drainage appears to go from here firstly to the south-east, receiving all the drainage of the large ranges apparently from 110 degrees round to south, when it appears to turn suddenly round some prominent ranges after receiving drainage from the westward of this, and uniting in one large watercourse and flowing behind a large leading range to south and east. Probably the head of the River Clarke takes its rise here.
Friday, June 27.
Wind as usual for the last few mornings–northerly; heavy dew but a beautiful morning. The natives were busy grass-burning south-south-east of this in the valley last afternoon. It was observed too late or I would have gone down to them and might have got some information from them as regards the courses of the different creeks, etc. etc., and probably the whereabouts of the nearest station on the Burdekin or one of its tributaries, so that we might be enabled to get a supply of food by the time this is exhausted. The horse turned out for us about seventy pounds of nearly dry meat which I trust will last us till we get to where there is beef or mutton. Started at 8.30 a.m., first on bearing of 119 degrees for a saddle in a low ridge between this and the large range for two and a half miles, then drainage to this point southerly; then bearing of 110 degrees for five and a half to six miles farther, drainage for two-thirds of this distance to the northward; at the end of the distance arrived at a nice brook running to southward close under the range. Got to a peak in the pass at two miles farther on last bearing (110 degrees) then bearing of 101 degrees, firstly over rather rough granite country, latterly over good pastoral, and latterly to a reedy swamp with small water-creeks coming in from right and left. Followed on the south-eastern side of the swamp for some little distance and camped at two and a half miles further. The whole country today is I may say composed of granite, and sound country well-grassed and watered. Distance travelled about ten and three-quarters to eleven miles. After getting to camp went and ascended one of the highest hills near to get a view of the country ahead; had a very extensive view from it, apparently comparatively level country from 62 1/2 to 103 1/2 degrees for some distance, with a sudden dip at about twelve to eighteen miles distant, heavy ranges in the distance beyond, and as seen from this hill very rugged and mountainous country from 62 1/2 degrees by north round considerably to east of south. On a bearing of about 140 degrees under the range I am now on there appears to be a considerable tract of openly timbered and level country, but which way the drainage goes is difficult to determine from top of hill. The swamp and creek we are encamped on and after passing this appears to flow about north, or a little to west of that, but from the top of the hill could see no break in the main ranges to allow of its passing through to either northward or westward.
Saturday, June 28.
Camp 24. Course 90 degrees, heavy dew, beautiful morning. The water although running strong here is of a milky appearance. Started at 8.10 a.m. over granite ridge and crossed swamp and water-creek to north. At two and a quarter miles boulders of lava on the eastern side; at two and three-quarter miles crossed large creek with plenty of water, which I have called Frank’s Creek after F. Marchant, Esquire, of Arkaba north of Adelaide. It comes from southward. At four and a half miles crossed small running rivulet from south; at five miles crossed a larger one from same direction; at six and three-quarter miles crossed a running creek in a swamp from south also; at seven and three-quarter miles crossed a splendid creek with oaks, etc., quantity of swampy ground on either side flowing same as last, which I have called the George after George Marchant, Esquire, of Wilpena north of Adelaide. At ten and a quarter miles crossed rivulet running to south; at ten and three-quarter miles examined boggy swamp with plenty of water, drainage to south. At eleven miles on top of small rocky range. Most extensive view ahead of level-looking country. At twelve and a half miles boggy swamp, went round the south end of it, its drainage is northward; at fifteen miles crossed a good-sized creek with sandy bed, some oaks, the water merely trickling through the sand but sufficient for all our wants; good timber. Camped here. Two of the horses nearly knocked up. Creek flows east on passing this.
Sunday, June 29.
Camp 25. Maitland very unwell, Kirby only so-so. There is also water in a small creek close by to south which joins this creek close by; ranges visible within a few miles to south of south-west; wind from southward chiefly but variable; I have called the creek we encamped on last night Burt’s Creek after G. Burt, Esquire, of Adelaide. Started at 8.18 a.m. on course of 90 degrees; at half a mile crossed large rocky creek from the south with boulders of lava in its bed; there was lava also at starting; a continuation of rough lava country for three miles; bad travelling. At three and three-quarter miles crossed strong running river or creek, granite bed; fish; with oaks, current to northward. At six miles crossed small dry sandy creek to east-north-east; top of granite ridge at six and one third of a mile: spelled nineteen minutes for a view; bearing of 84 1/2 degrees for a distant knoll in what appears a leading range, and a possibility of getting easily over it. At one mile crossed a small dry creek to east-north-east; at two miles crossed dry sandy creek to east-north-east; at two and three-quarter miles crossed oak creek (dry) to east-north-east; at five and two-third miles crossed large oak creek (dry) to east by north; at one and three-quarter miles further came to lagoon, not very large but suits our purpose for a camp as one of the horses can’t be persuaded to come on. I expect I will have to kill him to live upon for a few days whilst the other horses spell; some of them are very weak but the feed is too dry to kill him here; distance travelled about thirteen and three-quarter miles. Saw three emus today and a few turkeys; kangaroos were also seen for the last two days; the strong running river that we crossed at three and three-quarter miles from camp this morning I have called the McKay after G. McKay, Esquire, of Mellia, William’s River, New South Wales. The latter part of today the feed has been very dry but generally speaking it is an excellent country for any kind of stock; the only impediment to sheep is the very abrupt banks of the creeks for drays for the cartage of wool, but that would be got over with well searching; saw a native but he made off at full speed when he observed us.
Monday, June 30.
Camp 26. A good deal of box and apple-tree about here; our chief timber of late has been ironbark and other very useful trees, with gums always about the creeks and swamps. Saw yesterday on the way a few of that ornamental fruit-tree of Cooper’s Creek, which I have not seen for some time, but it was of small growth; the soil I suppose not being suitable. Will go on for some distance on same bearing as yesterday, to see if I meet better and more green feed accompanied with water to spell the horses. Although I am quite satisfied that I am close upon the Burdekin still I may not be close upon any of the stations. Little dew last night, wind light, and latterly a little inclined to be cloudy; sun rose 58 degrees east of north. Started at 8.3 a.m. At three-quarters of a mile crossed a creek from the east-south-east, deep and dry; rather thickly timbered country and not so rich. Gradual ascent to top of ridge; division of waters about three-quarters of a mile west of the mound or peak I was steering for at four miles. Abreast of peak at four and three-quarter miles; went to top of it; it was very steep and composed of very rough sandstone, granite, and decaying slaty stones. Had a pretty extensive view from it; but my view north, of 62 1/2 degrees, was intercepted by rough ranges. The drainage from this tier of ranges, eastern side, appears in the first instance to go to east-south-east or even south of that; and afterwards when all the watercourses unite in the flat some distance off to go to north and east. Started from this peak on bearing of 62 1/2 degrees for a break I observed in the distant range; at one mile crossed an oak creek (dry) to east-south-east; at three and a half miles crossed another oak creek (dry) lots of kangaroo about, and no doubt there is water although we did not see it in our course; at four and a quarter miles came to and crossed a swamp and creek with water in one hole that will be sufficient for us and camp. Maitland so ill he can hardly hang on the horse’s back and the horse Jack knocked up; killed him during the afternoon; although a bag of bones he will make soup for a few days and give Maitland a chance of recruiting, and will be a means of refreshing the horses and camels. Journey today about nine miles, the latter part very ridgy and rather rough although well-grassed; but indifferent travelling on account of the watercourses down the slopes being rather deep and steep on both sides. Kirby still keeps about the same thing; he is a mere bag of bones compared to what he used to be. Palmer has been complaining for some time and gets little better or worse; a violent headache generally seizing him about noon every day. Hodgkinson is also generally complaining. Wind afternoon from north.
Tuesday, July 1.
Camp 27, or Jack’s Swamp after our unfortunate horse; poor old fellow, many a score miles he carried me till some time ago he got a little lame and has never done so well since. No dew last night. Bell is, as he has always been, a day complaining and a day well; Davis something similar; Middleton has now got quite well and the rest of us are all pretty right but would be all the better of a change of food for the better; none of us appear very energetic on horse-food; unfortunately maggots got into it and did not improve it either in appearance or quality, but we are not over nice now. Plenty of splendid timber in this part of the country. Wind rather strong from north and continues steady in that quarter. Trying today to jerk a portion of the horse to cause what we have got to spin out. A good many fleecy clouds flying about early part of afternoon and the wind has changed a little to the west of north. In our present state we don’t want to see any rain till we get into the stations, as now we are tentless and of course have nothing to cover the sick in case of wet. Late in the afternoon wind considerably to the west, at sunset quite a calm, very cloudy and every appearance of rain, trust that it will blow off. A great number of large-sized kangaroos here but rather shy. Although there is abundance of grass of different kinds here the camels eat but little of it and do very badly; about the lakes north-east of Lake Torrens is the place for them; they eat nearly everything in the shape of grass and shrubs that grow there, but here it is quite different; but few acacias here of which they are very fond.
Wednesday, July 2.
Camp, Jack’s Swamp. No rain last night and but little dew; the clouds have all dispersed. Wind from north varying to east and west of that point and a beautiful hot day. The horses appearing to do well. Maitland improving; Kirby about the same, also Palmer.
Thursday, July 3.
Camp, Jack’s Swamp. Little dew again last night, wind northerly and easterly throughout the day, sun rather warm but not disagreeably so. The hills hereabouts are composed of substrata of decomposing sandstone with roots growing or dead in the fissures, the top rugged at and near the crest, with a description of stone like decaying burnt brick, broken into fragments although apparently united; very precipitous and often overhanging near the tops of the ranges, with table-tops, generally scrubby, still with good timber even on top and where it is more open, fair grass in places and spinifex in others, with heavy deep ravines down the slopes on all sides and well-grassed and timbered in the valleys. From the top of range near our camp one has an extensive view; southward is a large valley, the receiver of all the drainage of the hills east and west of it; south the range is low and over it can be discerned several conical wooded hills of greater and lesser sizes; beyond them in the distance can be seen two considerable ranges from north-north-east to south-south-west; at the latter point they suddenly terminate in nearly precipitous bluffs, showing that there must be a stream of some importance skirting that end of them, or some extensive valley; an easy way of arriving at them would be south from this camp and over the low dividing ridge; the waters or creeks in this valley, after uniting into one or more large courses, flow to north and east till they pass east of this a few miles off; further view is intercepted by the ranges north and east of that. Maitland appears much better today and Kirby I think is improving a little; Palmer is not quite so well. I hope he will soon get over his illness; he is a very useful man; neither shoeing horses nor almost anything comes wrong to him; indeed he has shod all the horses I may say since he joined the party, and has been a very useful fellow.
Friday, July 4.
Camp 27, Jack’s Swamp. Very cold during the night. Every appearance of a nice day. What little wind there is is from north. We start from this with 46 pounds of dried horse flesh which I hope will be sufficient to carry us to stations on the Burdekin. The invalids and animals have improved during their stay here, and we start this morning on about our last bearing generally, although we cannot go direct from the hilliness of the country. Bearing 62 1/2 degrees. All round this quarter quartz of colours is strewed over the face of the country in addition to the decomposing stones. Started at 8.6 a.m. firstly up the swamp side northerly a short distance, then easterly over a saddle in the range for the eastern slopes towards the main drainage to the northwards. At half a mile on top of the saddle in the range with drainage to the east. Then had to keep a little northerly of our course to avoid a rugged range on the right. At about eleven miles direct struck the main drainage creek (Ross’s Creek after W. Ross, Esquire, Mulma, Murray, New South Wales) but the actual distance travelled was considerably over that. Then followed the creek on a bearing of about 20 degrees off and on. At one and a quarter miles it receives a considerable tributary from west-south-west (Cole’s Creek after S. Cole, Esquire, Commissioner of Crown Lands, Euston, New South Wales). A large mass of hard dark-coloured, slaty-coloured rock in the centre of the two creeks with a passage on each side. At four miles it receives a very deep but narrow creek from the west (Beveridge’s Creek after Peter Beveridge, Esquire, Swan Hill, Victoria). Obliged to get into the main creek to pass it. Plenty of water and feed. Camped. A splendid creeper (scarlet) is here upon a number of trees, climbing to their very top. The fruit is very showy, oblong and quite the size of an orange but tastes exceedingly nauseous, full of pulpy seeds, birds and opossums eat them. After getting to camp went to top of a high range at three-quarter mile distant east-south-east. From it I had an extensive view. At 40 degrees easy to pass through range. From 82 to 90 degrees very mountainous. 5 degrees a very extensive valley apparently inclining westwards. Blacks burning at 10 degrees in the distance. North is a large irregular peak range; in the distance another a little east of it.
Saturday, July 5.
Camp 28. Dewless night as was also the night before and several others previous. Very hot yesterday. Last night during the whole night the sky was completely overcast and close, this morning the same. The main creek here is well lined with gums and well-grown oaks, the bank fringed with reeds; low down is about fifty yards wide at the bottom level and twice that width at top and steep but grassed all down the slopes. The forest over which we travelled yesterday was very much cut up with sudden and deep watercourses, making the travelling more difficult, and in many places was stony (brown stone). Started at 8.23 a.m., the horses having ranged rather far. Crossed the creek and on bearing of 22 degrees along it pretty good travelling through open timber, till at about two and three-quarter miles the creek came too close under a range to allow us to follow anywhere near its banks. Ascended the range and at three miles the creek on the left changed course to from 40 to 45 degrees; sometimes to the north of that, at other times to the south of it. At a short distance over the flat, after descending the range which was of no great elevation, came on the creek again and followed it on the above bearing. As we struck the creek the footprints of two horses in the bed of the creek, and shortly after more and more, which at first led us to suppose that the country was stocked thus far up; but after following along in the bed we found the traces to be all about the same age and that some time back. At length on right side of creek on the bank, at the distance on our last course of three and a quarter miles, we saw the remains of an old camp, ridge pole, and uprights, with the letter K cut on a couple of gumtrees, which at once led us to believe it was some party or other marking the boundaries of their runs. Got up out of the creek at this place and went on bearing of about 20 to 25 degrees. Immediately after starting on this bearing we passed over rather open ground with spinifex but not very strong. The creek now out of sight on the left. At three and one-eighth of a mile struck what I take to be the Burdekin, but no tracks of drays or stock of any kind up this length. It flows east at this place. Went about three-quarters of a mile on this course and two of the horses becoming knocked up I am obliged to halt. What told upon them so much today was that the banks of the creek were so rugged we were obliged to travel in the loose sand in the bed of the creek. We hope to make better progress tomorrow. From here the river appears to flow about 15 degrees north of east but that won’t continue far; I imagine we are a little above the junction of the Perry with this river. The bed of the Burdekin at this camp is about from 90 to 100 yards, and the strong-running stream is confined between bergues on the north side to a space of about twenty yards, and little better than knee-deep. Only a few small fish visible. Magnificent gums on its banks and plenty of excellent timber in every direction. This will be a most difficult part of the country for drays travelling on account of the many steep-sided creeks. At anything like a flood quite impracticable.
Sunday, July 6.
Camp 29. Last evening the wind blew for a short time fresh from east by north then lulled down; shortly after the sky became overcast and during the night we had a light Scotch mist; this morning no wind but sky overcast with every appearance of rain. We tried some green hide that we were reserving for camel’s boots in our soup of this morning, and being pickled in salt when taken from the bullock it imparted quite an agreeable flavour to our scanty meal and we all enjoyed it much. Some of the party put up badly with this short diet and appear to get quite dispirited, although at sight of the tracks yesterday they are quite elated, but it was only for a short time to become further depressed after. Horses all about amongst the bergues and high grass; late at starting. Started at 9.12 a.m.; for the first three and three-quarter miles through open forest, good country; large oak creek from the south-west joins the river at that distance. Our course to this was to south of east-south-east nearly south-east; the river then bears east for some distance, then north, then south, and afterwards to about south-east; first part through some exceedingly intricate country, hills close on the river with deep ravines and most difficult travelling. In its present state no dray in the world could pass by it; first of all we got one of the camels down in a creek, next one of the horses rolled over into the creek and we had to make a road for them at last to descend into the creek; now into and along the bed of the river; now up the steep banks and then up stony hills to head, or more easily cross the ravines, which was very trying to our animals, and finally completely knocked up one of the weak horses which was with much persuasion got to the camp in the afternoon after the camp was formed. After arriving he was killed and we commenced to use his flesh to save the other dry meat as we must spare a day here to refresh the animals; the latter part of the day’s journey was over rather better travelling; the hills still close to the river with deep ravines. On this last bearing fully six miles on the opposite or left bank of the river, at about two miles distance from our camp here a large creek with abundance of running water joins from north-west by north through apparently a not prepossessing country, very hilly and little or no valley belonging to it; in travelling along the bed of the river occasionally the bed is of a quicksand nature and very heavy. Sun quite overcast all day, at night it cleared off. Wind south-east.
Monday, July 7.
Camp 30. Although the stars were out during the night and no dew we have it very cloudy again today. I went to top of one of the highest hills on right bank of river today and had an extensive view. The river appears to bear nearly east generally for the north end of some large mountains in that direction, at which place I think the river receives the River Perry from the north and then flows south. Between the hill I was on and that there appears to be a good deal of level-looking country, and the hills on this side seem in a great measure to cease a short distance off. In every other direction it is rugged with high broken hills and an indifferent grass upon them with the exception of the very limited flats near the river, on which latter there is always abundance of good feed and splendid timber. Wind still from south-east by east but little of it. The creek that joins this river about two miles up coming from north-west by north I have called Clark’s Creek after Walter Clark, Esquire, of Deep Creek near Melbourne. The banks of the river are here very steep and difficult of access.
Tuesday, July 8.
Camp 30. Heavy dew last night; foggy this morning. Very dense vegetation along the banks and bergues of the river. The fish seen as yet are but small, the largest are of the catfish kind. Started at 8.45 a.m., late, the horses, even with the abundance of feed here, having strayed in all directions. At one and three-quarter miles crossed narrow and deep running creek from south by east. One of the camels in going up the hill out of it tumbled over backwards, and detained us forty-two minutes. Then ascended stony hills to avoid the ravines close to the river. At four and a quarter miles a conical stony-topped hill close by on right, south, and south of that a swamp with poplar, gums, etc., river close on left, country open both sides of river, particularly opposite side to north-north-east; at five and three-quarter miles crossed creek from south-east (good, not broad nor deep but abundance of water) then