when we changed our route to north, that I determined, although my sprained ankle was painful, to examine again, and still more extensively, the country into which such a deviation must have led him.
MY SEARCH SOUTH-SOUTH-WEST 40 MILES.
April 21.
I proceeded in a south-south-west direction (or South 17 degrees West by compass) or on a intermediate line between our route and the north-west line by which I had explored that country on the nineteenth, the men cooeying as before.
We explored every open space; and we looked into many bushes, but in vain.
I continued my journey far to the southward in order to ascertain what water was nearest in that direction, as it was probable, were any found, that Mr. Cunningham, if alive, must have reached it, and I had in vain sought his track on the other side of the country. I soon came to undulating ground or low hills of quartzose gravel without any grass, consisting of unabraded small angular fragments of quartz. I observed a few trees of the ironbark eucalyptus and pines or callitris on the highest grounds. At twenty miles from our camp we crossed a grassy flat, in which we at length found a chain of ponds falling to the south-south-east, and also about them were recent marks of natives.
INTERVIEW WITH TWO NATIVES.
At length I espied two at a distance as I proceeded along the valley. In vain we cooeyed and beckoned to them to approach; it was clear they would not come to us; on seeing which I left the men and horses and walked towards them, carrying a green bough before me. They seemed at once to understand this emblem of peace; for as soon as I was near enough for them to see it they laid down their spears and waddies, and sat down on the ground to receive me. Not a word however could they understand, being evidently quite strangers to the colonists. They were both rather old men, but very athletic, and of commanding air and stature, the body of one was painted with pipe-clay, that of the other with yellow ochre; and through these tints their well-defined muscles, firm as those of some antique torso, stood out in bold relief in the beams of the setting sun. The two made a fine group on which dress would have been quite superfluous, and absolutely a blot on the picture.
No gesture of mine could convey the idea with which I wished so much to impress them, of my search for ANOTHER WHITE MAN, and after using every kind of gesture in vain, I made a bow in despair and departed. They rose at the same time, apparently glad (from fear) to see me going, and motioned as if to say you may depart now, we are friends. One of them who sat behind and who appeared to be the older of the two had a bone-handled table-knife stuck in the band over his forehead; one had also an iron tomahawk. The rest of the tribe were concealed about, as we heard their cooeys, but no others ventured to appear. I thought I could not give them further proof of no harm being intended to them than by quietly going on my way, and I hoped that this friendly demonstration might remove any apprehensions respecting Cunningham if he chanced to meet the tribe. The greatest danger to be apprehended from natives is on a stranger first approaching them when, chiefly from fear, they are apt to act on the offensive.
Continuing on the same line I crossed another small watercourse falling north-east; and beyond it were hills of mica-schist and quartz, which sloped rather boldly to the southward. We then entered one of the finest tracts of forest land I ever saw. It was there three miles in width, and bounded on the south by another low hill of quartzose gravel, the soil of which was indifferent. We at last tied up our horses on a little patch of forest land, and laid down under a few boughs, as it was quite dark and began to rain.
RANGE OF PORPHYRY.
April 22.
After a fruitless ride of twelve more miles still further southward in pursuit of distant columns of smoke, we turned our horses’ heads towards the camp on a bearing of North 56 degrees East, in which direction some summits appeared. We crossed much good whinstone land, and arrived at a small ridge where I ascended a hill consisting of a reddish granite or porphyry. From this height I again saw Harvey’s and Croker’s ranges and various hills to the southward, but I was disappointed in the view of the western horizon, which was confined to a very flat-topped woody range. I took as many angles as I could from a round pinnacle of porphyry which barely afforded standing room.
From this hill we saw smoke near another eminence which bore North 36 degrees East, distant about seven miles; and in that direction we proceeded (as it led homewards) but twilight overtook us as we crossed its side, on which the bushes appeared to have been recently burnt.
This hill consisted of a rock resembling felspar, and was connected with the former, which was of granite, by low hills consisting of schistus and trap. The former had good grass about it, and produced a chain of well-filled ponds, but here we found no water, having arrived so late. The country in general was (in point of grass at least) much better than the rotten ground on the banks of the Bogan. The water also, although scarce, was much better, and I heartily regretted that it was not in my power to proceed, according to my original plan, along this higher ground, in my progress towards the Darling.
April 23.
Early this morning I ascended the hill although much incommoded by my sprained ankle, which obliged me to ride my horse over rocks to the very summit. I could perceive no more smoke. The Canobolas were just visible to the right of Mount Juson. The height on which I stood seemed to be the furthest interior point of this chain whence those hills could be seen. We left the summit at nine o’clock, and proceeded towards our route on a bearing of North 17 degrees East. At ten miles we halted to allow the horses to pick some green grass in a casuarina scrub; and then, after riding two miles further, we reached our marked route, at about three miles back from Bullock creek. We saw no traces on it of the men I had sent back, for which I was at a loss to account; but I readily turned every circumstance, even my own ill success, in favour of the expectation that I should find Mr. Cunningham in the camp on my return: thus hope grew even out of disappointment.
MR. CUNNINGHAM’S TRACK FOUND.
There however I learned that the two men sent back had at length found Mr. Cunningham’s track exactly where we had at first so diligently sought for it, and that they had traced it into the country which I had twice traversed in search of him in vain, and, more distressing than all, that they had been compelled to leave the track the preceding evening for want of rations! They had been however sent back to take it up, and we anxiously awaited the result.
April 24.
Late in the evening the two men (The Doctor and Murray) returned, having lost all further trace of Mr. Cunningham in a small oak scrub. They had distinctly seen the track of the dog with him, and that of his own steps beside those of the horse, as if he had been leading it.
MR. LARMER AND A PARTY SENT TO TRACE IT.
April 25.
Early this morning I despatched Mr. Larmer and The Doctor, Muirhead and Whiting, supplied with four days’ provisions and water. The party was directed to look well around the scrub, and on discovering the track to follow it, wherever it led, until they found Mr. Cunningham or his remains; for in such a country I began to despair of discovering him alive after so long an absence. They did not return until the evening of the 28th, when all they brought of Mr. Cunningham was his saddle and bridle, whip, one glove, two straps, and a piece of paper folded like a letter inside of which were cut (as with a penknife) the letters N.E.
MR. CUNNINGHAM’S TRACK FOLLOWED FOR 70 MILES, HIS HORSE FOUND DEAD.
Mr. Larmer reported that, having easily found the track of the horse beyond the scrub, they had followed it until they came to where the horse lay dead, having still the saddle on and the bridle in its mouth; the whip and straps had been previously found, and from these circumstances, the tortuous track of the horse, and the absence of Mr. Cunningham’s own footsteps for some way from where the horse was found; it was considered that he had either left the animal in despair, or that it had got away from him. At all events it had evidently died for want of water; but the fate of its unfortunate rider was still a mystery.
HIS OWN FOOTSTEPS TRACED.
It appeared from Mr. Larmer’s map of Mr. Cunningham’s track that he had deviated from our line after crossing Bullock creek, and had proceeded about fourteen miles to the north-west where marks of his having tied up his horse and lain down induced the party to believe that he had there passed the first dreary night of his wandering.
From that point he appeared to have intended to return and, by the zigzag course he took, that he had either been travelling in the dark, or looking for his own track, that he might retrace it. In this manner his steps actually approached within a mile of our route, but in such a manner that he appeared to have been going south while we were travelling north (on the 18th). Thus he had continued to travel southward, or south-south-west, full 14 miles, crossing his own track not far from where he first quitted our route. On his left he had the dry channel (Bullock creek) with the water-gumtrees (eucalypti) full in view, though without ever looking into it for water.* Had he observed this channel and followed it downwards he must have found our route; and had he traced it upwards he must have come upon the waterholes where I had an interview with the two natives, and thus, perhaps, have fallen in with me. From the marks of his horse having been tied to four different trees at the extreme southern point which he reached, it appeared that he had halted there some time, or passed there the second night. That point was not much more than half a mile to the westward of my track out on the 21st. From it he had returned, keeping still more to the westward, so that he actually fell in with my track of the 19th, and appeared to have followed it backwards for upwards of a mile, when he struck off at a rightangle to the north-west.
(*Footnote. These trees being remarkable from their white shining trunks, resembling those of beech trees; a circumstance to which, as connected with the presence of water, I had just before drawn his attention.)
It was impossible to account for this fatal deviation, even had night, as most of the party supposed, overtaken him there. It seemed that he had found my paper directing him to trace my steps backwards, and that he had been doing this where the paper marked N.E. had been found, and which I therefore considered a sort of reply to my note. If we were right as to the nights, this must have taken place on the very day on which I had passed that way, and when my eye eagerly caught at every dark-coloured distant object in hopes of finding him! After the deviation to the north-west it appears that Mr. Cunningham made some detours about a clear plain, at one side of which his horse had been tied for a considerable time, and where it is probable he had passed his third night, as there were marks where he had lain down in the long dry grass. From this point only his horse’s tracks had been traced, not his own steps which had hitherto accompanied them; and from the twisting and turning of the course to where it lay dead, we supposed he had not been with the horse after it left this place. The whip and straps seemed to have been trod off from the bridle-reins to which Mr. Cunningham was in the habit of tying his whip, and to which also the straps had been probably attached, to afford the animal more room to feed when fastened to trees.
To the place therefore where Mr. Cunningham’s own steps had last been seen I hastened on the morning of the 29th April with the same men, Muirhead and Whiting, who had so ably and humanely traced all the tracks of the horse, through a distance of 70 miles.
The spot seemed well chosen as a halting-place, being at a few trees which advanced beyond the rest of the wood into a rather extensive plain: a horse tied there could have been seen from almost any part around, and it is not improbable that Mr. Cunningham left the animal there fastened, and that it had afterwards got loose, and had finally perished for want of water.
We soon found the print of Mr. Cunningham’s footsteps in two places: in one, coming towards the trees where the horse had been tied, from a thick scrub east of them; in the other, leading from these trees in a direction straight northward. Pursuing the latter steps we found them continuous in that direction and, indeed, remarkably long and firm, the direction being preserved even through thick brushes.
This course was direct for the Bogan; and it was evident that, urged by intense thirst, he had at length set off with desperate speed for the river, having parted from his horse, where the party had supposed. That he had killed and eaten the dog in the scrub, whence his footsteps had been seen to emerge was probable, as no trace of the animal was visible beyond it; and as it was difficult otherwise to account for his own vigorous step, after an abstinence of three days and three nights. I then regretted that I had not at the time examined the scrub but, when we were at his last camp (the trees on the plain) we were most interested in Mr. Cunningham’s further course.
This we traced more than two miles, during which he had never stopped, even to look behind towards the spot where, had he left his horse, he might still have seen him. Having at length lost the track on some very hard ground we exhausted the day in a vain search for it.
MR. LARMER MEETS A TRIBE.
On returning to the camp I found that Mr. Larmer, whom I had sent with two armed men down the Bogan, had nearly been surrounded, at only three miles from our camp, by a tribe of natives carrying spears. Amongst these were two who had been with us on the previous day, and who called to the others to keep back. They told Mr. Larmer that they had seen Mr. Cunningham’s track in several parts of the bed of the Bogan; that he had not been killed but had gone to the westward (pointing down the Bogan) with the Myall (i.e. wild) Blackfellows. Thus we had reason to hope that our friend had at least escaped the fate of his unfortunate horse by reaching the Bogan. This was what we wished; but no one could have supposed that he would have followed the river downwards, into the jaws of the wild natives, rather than upwards. His movements show that he believed he had deviated to the eastward of our route rather than to the westward; and this mistake accounts for his having gone down the Bogan.
Had he not pursued that fatal course, or had he killed the horse rather than the dog, and remained stationary, his life would have been saved. The result of our twelve days’ delay and search was only the discovery that, had we pursued our journey down the Bogan, Mr. Cunningham would have fallen in with our track and rejoined us; and that, while we halted for him, he had gone ahead of us, and out of reach.
THE FOOTSTEPS TRACED INTO THE CHANNEL OF THE BOGAN.
April 30.
I put the party in movement along the left bank of the Bogan, its general course being north-west, and about five miles from our camp we crossed the same solitary line of shoe-marks, seen the day before, and still going due north! With sanguine hopes we traced it to a pond in the bed of the river, and the two steps by which Mr. Cunningham first reached water, and in which he must have stood while allaying his burning thirst, were very plain in the mud! The scales of some large fish lay upon them, and I could not but hope that even the most savage natives would have fed a white man circumstanced as Mr. Cunningham must then have been. Overseer Burnett, Whiting and The Doctor proceeded in search of him down the river while the party continued, as well as the dense scrubs of casuarinae permitted, in a direction parallel to its course. Just as we found Mr. Cunningham’s footsteps a column of smoke arose from the woods to the southward, and I went in search of the natives, Bulger accompanying me with his musket. After we had advanced in the direction of the smoke two miles it entirely disappeared, and we could neither hear nor see any other traces of human beings in these dismal solitudes. The density of the scrubs had obliged me to make some detours to the left, so that I did not reach the Bogan till long after it was quite dark. Those who had gone in search of Mr. Cunningham did not arrive at our camp that night although we sent up several skyrockets and fired some shots.
May 1.
The party came in from tracing Mr. Cunningham’s steps along the dry bed of the Bogan, and we were glad to find that the impressions continued. There appeared to be the print of a small naked foot of someone either accompanying or tracking Mr. Cunningham. At one place were the remains of a small fire, and the shells of a few mussels, as if he had eaten them. It was now most desirable to get ahead of this track, and I lost no time in proceeding, to the extent of another day’s journey, parallel to the Bogan or, rather, so as to cut off a great bend of it.
DEATH OF THE KANGAROO.
We crossed some good undulating ground, open and grassy, the scenery being finer, from the picturesque grouping and character of the trees, than any we had hitherto seen. On one of these open tracts I wounded a female kangaroo at a far shot of my rifle, and the wretched animal was finally killed after a desperate fight with the dogs.
REFLECTIONS.
There is something so affecting in the silent and deadly struggle between the harmless kangaroo and its pursuers that I have sometimes found it difficult to reconcile the sympathy such a death excites with our possession of canine teeth, or our necessities, however urgent they might be.
The huntsman’s pleasure is no more, indeed, when such an animal dies thus before him, persecuted alike by the civilised and the savage. In this instance a young one, warm from the pouch of its mother, frisked about at a distance, as if unwilling to leave her, although it finally escaped. The nights were cold, and I confess that thoughts of the young kangaroo did obtrude at dinner, and were mingled with my kangaroo-steak.
As we turned to our right in the afternoon in search of the Bogan, we encountered some casuarina scrub, to avoid which we had to wind a little, so that we only made the river at dusk, and at a part of the bed which was dry. Water, as we afterwards found, was near enough upwards, but the two parties sent in the evening having by mistake both sought for it in the other direction, we had none till early in the morning.
FIVE NATIVES BROUGHT TO ME WITH A SILK HANDKERCHIEF IN THEIR POSSESSION.
May 2.
Five natives were brought to me by Whiting and Tom Jones, on suspicion; one of them having a silk pocket-handkerchief which they thought might have belonged to Mr. Cunningham.
The native wore it fastened over his shoulders, and seemed so careless about our scrutiny that I could not think he had obtained the handkerchief by any violence; and still less from Mr. Cunningham, as it was engrained with a smoky tinge, apparently derived from having been long in his possession. No mark was upon it, and the only information we could obtain as to where they got it, was the answer “old fellow,” and pointing to the north-east. As these men had been at some out-station of ours and could speak a little English, and as they had a young kangaroo dog called by them olony (Maloney) I did not think at the time that the handkerchief had belonged to Mr. Cunningham; and the men appointed to attend him declared they had never seen that handkerchief in his hands.
THEIR NAMES.
These five natives were overtaken suddenly at a waterhole two miles lower down the Bogan. The name of him with the handkerchief was Werrajouit, those of the other four Yarree Buckenba and Tackijally Buckenba (brothers) Youimooba, and Werrayoy (youths). The most intelligent was Tackijally, and even he understood but little, not enough to comprehend anything I said about the white man lost in the bush.
To secure their goodwill and best services however I immediately gave them three tomahawks; and when Yarree Buckenba took a new handkerchief from my pocket I presented him with it. They accompanied us when we moved forward to encamp nearer water.
THE PARTY HALT AT CUDDULDURY.
We passed a small pond, the name of which was Burdenda, and afterwards came to Cudduldury where we encamped with the intention of making what further search we could for Mr. Cunningham.
INTERVIEW WITH THE KING OF THE BOGAN.
While the men were pitching the tents at this place I rode with the natives, at their request, towards some ponds lower down. There, by their cooeys and their looks, they seemed to be very anxious about somebody in the bush beyond the Bogan. I expected to see their chief; at all events from these silent woods something was to emerge in which my guides were evidently much interested, as they kept me waiting nearly an hour for
The unseen genius of the wood.
At length a man of mild but pensive countenance, athletic form, and apparently about fifty years of age, came forth, leading a very fine boy, so dressed with green boughs that only his head and legs remained uncovered; a few emu-feathers being mixed with the wild locks of his hair. I received him in this appropriate costume, as a personification of the green bough, or emblem of peace.*
(*Footnote. The Grecians used to supplicate with green boughs in their hands, and crowns upon their heads, chiefly of olive or laurel, whence Statius says:
Mite nemus circa —-
Vittatae laurus, et supplicis arbor olivae.)
One large feather decked the brow of the chief; which with his nose, was tinged with yellow ochre. Having presented the boy to me, he next advanced with much formality towards the camp, having Tackijally on his right, the boy walking between, and rather in advance of both, each having a hand on his shoulder.
The boy’s face had a holiday look of gladness, but the chief remained so silent and serious, without however any symptoms of alarm, that my recollections of him then, and as he appeared next day, when better acquainted, are as of two distinct persons.
To this personage all the others paid the greatest deference, and it is worthy of remark that they always refused to tell his name, or that of several others, while those of some of the tribe were familiar in our mouths as household words. The boy, who was called Talambe Nadoo, was not his son; but he took particular care of him. This tribe gloried in the name of Myall, which the natives nearer to the colony apply in terror and abhorrence to the wild blackfellows, to whom they usually attribute the most savage propensities.
Not a word could this chief of the Myalls speak besides his own language; and his slow and formal approach indicated that it was undoubtedly the first occasion on which he had seen white men. It was evident at once that he was not the man to wander to stock-stations; and that, whatever others of his race might do, he preferred an undisputed sway:
Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds.
Numbers of the tribe came about us, but they retired at the chief’s bidding. Not one however except those first met with in the Bogan, could speak any of the jargon by which the natives usually communicate with the stockmen.
MUIRHEAD AND WHITING SENT TO EXAMINE THE DRY CHANNEL OF THE RIVER.
We could not make them understand that we were in search of one of our party who was lost; neither could Muirhead and Whiting, who were returning to follow up Mr. Cunningham’s track, prevail on any of these natives to accompany them.
May 3.
The two men having departed to take up Mr. Cunningham’s track, I must here observe that the footsteps had not been discovered in the Bogan, either at our last camp or at this, although Whiting and Tom Jones had been in search of them when they found the man with a handkerchief; it was therefore most important to ascertain, if possible, where and under what circumstances the footsteps disappeared. The skill with which these men had followed the slightest impressions was remarkable; and I fixed my hopes on the result of their further exertions.
SEARCH EXTENDED TO THE PLAINS OF THE LACHLAN.
I cannot say that I then expected they would find Mr. Cunningham, conceiving it was more probable that he had left the Bogan and gone northward towards our stations on the Macquarie, a river distant only a short day’s journey from the Bogan. My anxiety about him was embittered with regret at the inauspicious delay of our journey which his disappearance had occasioned; and I was too impatient on both subjects to be able to remain inactive at the camp. I therefore set out, followed by two men on horseback, with the intention of reconnoitring the country to the southward, taking with us provisions for two days. After riding 17 miles, the first eight through thick scrub, we came into a more open and elevated country where we saw pigeons, as sign that water was not distant on some side of us. The hills were covered with a quartzose soil, containing angular fragments. The Callitris pyramidalis and the Sterculia heterophylla were among the trees. At 19 miles we crossed some dry ponds in open forest ground, and we then continued along fine flats for five miles more, when we again intersected the dry bed of the creek.
CAMP OF NATIVES.
Still pursuing the same direction, and having the watercourse near us on the left, we passed (at the distance of 26 miles) some native fires; but I was too anxious to examine the country before me to stop, although I saw some of the natives seated by them.
PASS THE NIGHT IN A HOLLOW WITHOUT WATER.
We soon after ascended a low ridge of mica-slate; beyond which we came again on the dry creek, and after crossing it several times we finally lay down for the night in its bed (which afforded the best grass) 33 miles from the party at Cudduldury. Although this watercourse was perfectly dry throughout yet it was an interesting feature in a valley enclosed on each side by undulating hills of mica-slate; and I thought of continuing in its course next morning, in hopes it might at last lead to some chain of ponds falling westward.
May 4.
Our horses had fared but indifferently as to grass, and they had no water until this morning when we spared to each about half a gallon of what we carried; but this supply seemed only to make them more thirsty. As soon as it was clear daylight we continued in the direction of the creek; but although its bed deepened and at one place (much trodden by the natives) we discovered a hole which had only recently dried up, still we found no water. Further on the recent marks of the natives and their huts also were numerous; but how they existed in this parched country was the question! We saw that around many trees the roots had been taken up, and we found them without the bark and cut into short clubs or billets, but for what purpose we could not then discover. At eleven o’clock I changed my course to 300 degrees from north and, after travelling about three miles in that direction, I descried a goodly hill on my left, and soon after several others, one of which was bare of trees on the summit. After so long a journey over unvarying flats, we had at length come rather unawares, as it seemed, into a hilly country, the heights of which were bold, rocky, and of considerable elevation. I should estimate the summit of that which we ascended was 730 feet above the lower country at its base. The dry creek which had led us towards these hills from such a distance northward, had vanished through them somewhere to our left; and, bold as the range was, still we could see no better promise of water than what this seemed to afford.
VIEW TOWARDS MOUNT GRANARD.
The summit up which we forced our horses over very sharp rocks commanded a most extensive and magnificent view of hills, both eastward and westward. The country in the north, whence we had come, was nevertheless higher, although the horizon there was unbroken. Southward the general line of horizon was a low level on which the hills terminated, as if it had been the sea. There, I had no doubt, flowed the river Lachlan, and, probably, one of the highest of the hills was Mount Granard of Oxley. Towards the east the most elevated hill bore 142 degrees 30 minutes from North, and was at a distance of about 12 miles. It was a remarkable mass of yellow rock, naked and herbless, as if nature there had not yet finished her work. That hill had an isolated appearance; others to the westward were pointed, and smoke arose from almost every summit, even from the highest part of the mass on which we stood. Some sharp-edged rocks prevented us from riding to where the smoke appeared, and I was too lame to go on foot. No natives were visible, and I could not comprehend what they could be all about on the various rugged summits whence smoke arose; as these people rather frequent valleys and the vicinity of ponds of water. The region I now overlooked was beautifully diversified with hill and dale, still I could not discover much promise of water; but as smoke ascended from one flat to the westward I conjectured that we might there find a pool, but it was too far distant to be then of use to us. The general direction of hills appeared to be 318 degrees from north; that of the continuation westward of the flat higher land, North 343 degrees. A broad and extensive smoke was rising from the country where we had slept and towards which I was about to return by a direct course from this hill (North 56 degrees East).
A SECOND NIGHT WITHOUT WATER.
Accordingly we travelled until night overtook us in an extensive casuarina scrub, where we tied our horses, and made our fire, after a ride of at least 40 miles.
AWOKE BY THE FOREST ON FIRE.
During the night we were made aware, by the crackling of falling timber, that a conflagration was approaching, and one of us by turns watched, while the others slept with their arms at hand. The state of our horses, from want of water, was by no means promising for the long journey which was necessary to enable us to reach home next day; a circumstance on which the lives of these animals in all probability depended, especially as the grass here was very indifferent. We had also little more than a pint of water for each horse; and it was difficult to give that scanty allowance to any one of the animals in sight of the others, so furious were they on seeing it.
May 5.
Proceeding in search of our first day’s track we entered almost immediately the burning forest. We perceived that much pains had been taken by the natives to spread the fire, from its burning in separate places.
Huge trees fell now and then with a crashing sound, loud as thunder, while others hung just ready to fall, and as the country was chiefly open forest, the smoke, at times, added much sublimity to the scenery.
INTERVIEW WITH THREE NATIVES.
We travelled five miles through this fire and smoke, all the while in expectation of coming unawares upon the natives who had been so busy in annoying us. At length we saw the huts which we had passed the day before, and soon after three natives, who immediately got behind trees as we advanced; but although one ran off, yet the others answered my cooey, and I went towards them on foot, with a green branch. They seemed busy, digging at the root of a large tree; but on seeing me advance they came forward with a fire-stick and sat down; I followed their example, but the cordiality of our meeting could be expressed only by mutual laughing.
They were young men, yet one was nearly blind from ophthalmia or filth. I called up one of my men and gave a tomahawk to the tallest of these youths, making what signs I could to express my thirst and want of water.
ROOTS OF TREES SUCKED BY THE NATIVES.
Looking as if they understood me, they hastened to resume their work, and I discovered that they dug up the roots for the sake of drinking the sap. It appeared that they first cut these roots into billets, and then stripped off the bark or rind, which they sometimes chew, after which, holding up the billet and applying one end to the mouth, they let the juice drop into it. We now understood for what purpose the short clubs which we had seen the day before had been cut. The youths resumed their work the moment they had received the tomahawk without looking more at us or at the tool. I thought this nonchalance rather singular, and attributed their assiduity either to a desire to obtain for us some of the juice, which would have been creditable to their feelings; or to the necessity for serving some more powerful native who had set them to that work. One had gone, apparently to call the tribe, so I continued my journey without further delay. We soon regained our track of the first day, and I followed it with some impatience back to the camp.
HORSES REACH THE CAMP WITH GREAT DIFFICULTY.
My horse had been ill on the second day, and as this was the third on which it, as well as the others, had gone without water, they were so weak that, had we been retarded by any accident another night in the bush, we must have lost them all. They could be driven on only with difficulty, nevertheless we reached the camp before sunset.
PART OF MR. CUNNINGHAM’S COAT FOUND.
The tidings brought by the men sent after Mr. Cunningham’s footsteps were still most unsatisfactory. They had followed the river bed back for the first twelve miles from our camp without finding in it a single pond. They had traced the continuation of his track to where it disappeared near some recent fires where many natives had been encamped. Near one of these fires they found a portion of the skirt or selvage of Mr. Cunningham’s coat; numerous small fragments of his map of the colony; and, in the hollow of a tree, some yellow printed paper in which he used to carry the map. The men examined the ground for half a mile all around without finding more of his footsteps, or any traces of him besides those mentioned. It was possible and indeed, as I then thought, probable, that having been deprived by the natives of his coat, he might have escaped from them by going northward towards some of the various cattle stations on the Macquarie. I learnt that when the men returned with these vestiges of poor Cunningham, there was great alarm amongst the natives, and movements by night, when the greater part of the tribe decamped, and amongst them the fellow with the handkerchief who never again appeared. The chief, or king (as our people called him) continued with us, and seemed quite unconscious of anything wrong. This tribe seemed too far from the place where the native camp had been to be suspected of any participation in the ill treatment with which we had too much reason to fear Mr. Cunningham had met. As we had no language to explain even that one of our party was missing, I could only hope that, by treating these savages kindly, they might be more disposed, should they ever see or hear of Mr. Cunningham, to assist him to rejoin us. To delay the party longer was obviously unnecessary; and indeed the loss of more time must have defeated the object of the expedition, considering our limited stock of provisions.
I therefore determined on proceeding by short journeys along the Bogan, accompanied by these natives, not altogether without the hope that Mr. Cunningham might still be brought to us by some of them.
CHAPTER 2.4.
Continue along the Bogan, guided by the natives. Their caution in approaching the haunts of others. Their accurate knowledge of localities.
Introduced to the Bungan tribe.
Superiority of the King how displayed. Dangerous mistake.
A true savage.
The king of the Bogan takes his leave. Kangaroos numerous.
Beauty of the shrubs.
Dangerous consequence of surprising a native. Wounded native led to our camp.
His confidence gained by kind treatment. Oxley’s Tableland.
Mr. Larmer’s excursion to it.
Narrow escape from the loss of the cattle. The party followed by a clamorous tribe. A parley.
Their various complexions.
Decorous behaviour.
Naked plains.
A native visitor.
Soft earth of the plains.
Ride to the Darling.
The water sweet.
The party encamps on a favourable position on the river.
CONTINUE ALONG THE BOGAN, GUIDED BY THE NATIVES.
May 6.
Guided by Tackijally we proceeded, crossing the Bogan for the first time and travelling along its right bank to Bugubada, a distance of eight miles.
May 7.
Proceeded, again accompanied by Tackijally, under the orders of the king, who compelled him to go, although he seemed very unwilling or lazy. The advantage of having such guides was that being now uncertain as to the further course of the Bogan, which had taken a great bend northward, we could thus make straight for each proposed waterhole without following the bends of the river. The knowledge of the people was so exact as to localities that I could ascertain in setting out the true bearing of those places by the direction in which they pointed; and in travelling on such a bearing any obstacle in the way was sure to be avoided by following the suggestions of the natives. In this manner we now travelled.
THEIR CAUTION IN APPROACHING THE HAUNTS OF OTHERS.
Another great advantage gained in the company of the natives was our being perfectly safe from the danger of sudden collision with a tribe. Their caution in approaching waterholes was most remarkable; for they always cooeyed from a great distance, and even on coming near a thick scrub they would sometimes request me to halt until they could examine it. This day we passed, in the channel of the Bogan, a long and deep reach or lagoon, called Muda, of which the natives had made much mention; but to have remained at this water would have made the day’s journey too short; so we proceeded to a smaller hole named Walwadyer, having crossed and recrossed the dry channel of the Bogan.
May 8.
Tackijally, who had of late steadily conducted us to water, came up when we were ready to start, and showed me the direction in which I was to find water at the end of the day’s journey which appeared to be, as he pointed, 343 degrees. He then held up the opossum skins of his cloak, making signs in that manner that he went to seek opossums, but should rejoin us afterwards.
We twice crossed the Bogan in the first half mile, and then traversed an open plain, the surface of which was flat, firm, and nearly bare. As we reached the northern skirts the king, with Talambe Nadoo and Tackijally, rejoined us.
THEIR ACCURATE KNOWLEDGE OF LOCALITIES.
At four miles we passed a good pond called Daumbwan. We encamped further on at a place called Murrebouga where there was a large pond, the direct distance from Walwadyer being 5 1/4 miles; and it was a curious test of the accuracy of the native’s local knowledge that, although he recommended this pond of Murrebouga by merely pointing in its direction, I had, by following with compass the course indicated, hit the very pond to which he meant us to go.
INTRODUCED TO THE BUNGAN TRIBE.
May 9.
Again guided by Tackijally we travelled towards Darobal, the distance being 7 1/4 miles. We several times crossed the bed of the Bogan, and in this day’s journey we were joined by Dalumbe Tuganda and others of the Bungan tribe to whom the chief was anxious to introduce us.
SUPERIORITY OF THE KING HOW DISPLAYED.
We had this day an opportunity of witnessing his superiority in those qualifications by which he was, no doubt, distinguished among the savage tribes. We had overtaken a strong man with a bad countenance, prowling along through the bush; and being, as it appeared, a friend of the king’s, he continued with us. An opossum in a tree had baffled all the endeavours of himself and some young men to get at it, when they cooeyed for the king. Our royal friend came, climbed the tree in an instant, and after a cursory examination, dropped some small sticks down the hollow of the trunk; then listening, he pointed, as by instinct, to a part of the tree much lower down where, by making a small incision, the others immediately got the animal out.
May 10.
We moved (on 345 degrees) for Nyngan, which we reached at half-past twelve. We passed on our left Borribilu, and there I was introduced by the king to a new tribe. On first espying these people seated under a tree at a great distance near the river-bank, he directed my attention that way by using the same gestures which he was accustomed to make in giving me notice of a kangaroo or emu.
DANGEROUS MISTAKE.
I accordingly left my horse, going cautiously forward with my rifle. The chief however kept by me, anxiously calling out with a pathetic voice “Myen, myen,” which words, as I afterwards learnt, meant Men! men! But it was not until a thought had passed in my mind of firing among the group, that I had the good fortune to discover my mistake. The figures seated and covered with grey clay had very much the resemblance of a grey species of kangaroo which we had often seen on the Bogan. I then went forward with him, and was received with the most demure inattention; that is to say, by the natives sitting cross-legged, with their eyes fixed on the ground, which it appeared was their formal mode of expressing respect or consideration for strangers when first received.
Nyngan was a long pond of water on which were many ducks, and those birds called in the colony native companions.
A TRUE SAVAGE.
The blacks sat down at a fire nearer to us than usual, and the strong man with a bad countenance particularly attracted my attention.
I prevailed on him to sit until I sketched his face; for which piece of civility I gave him a tomahawk. Late at night, when I was about to go to sleep, he came softly up to my tent, demanding something in a whisper. I showed him my rifle, and gave the man on watch strict orders to look sharp. This savage was twice afterwards caught about the carts during the night, and in the morning he was seen pointing out to other natives the cart on which the flour was placed. I never saw a worse countenance on any native; and I was deprived even of the slight comfort of a doubt as to poor Cunningham’s fate on looking at it.
THE KING OF THE BOGAN TAKES HIS LEAVE.
May 11.
The king, who had most kindly accompanied us on every day’s journey from Cudduldury, carefully pointing out the open parts of the country, and the waterholes on which to encamp, this morning took leave of us, having previously been at some pains to introduce us to the Bungan tribe. These last natives did not however so well understand our wants; and I was then rather inclined to be rid of them, and push on at a faster rate than they would allow me. I therefore refused to halt as they wished at Condurgo, and proceeded. Our new acquaintance followed until the dogs started after some kangaroos, and having been long absent, I sent in search of them, when some of the natives were caught carrying off a kangaroo which the dogs had killed, and others were decoying our animals away with them. On the kangaroo being brought to me I gave it to the tribe, in hopes that they would remain to eat it, and thus leave us to pursue our journey.
They followed us however carrying the kangaroo, until they came to a bend of the Bogan where they suddenly disappeared. We finally encamped on an open plain with tolerable pasture, and near a waterhole in the river bed.
The evening was cloudy for the first time since I had been with the party from the commencement of the expedition; and a smart shower fell during the night.
KANGAROOS NUMEROUS.
May 12.
We set off early, travelling over rather open ground so that we were able to pursue the river course without difficulty, and we encamped near it on a plain, after a journey of fourteen miles. Just as we reached the spot which I had chosen for the camp, several kangaroos appeared, although we had seen none previously during the day. I hunted them with the dogs while the people were pitching the tents; and the largest was killed some way from our camp, in a scrub; so that it was necessary to bring two men to carry it home–no bad prize after the party had been living, for some time, on salt provisions.
BEAUTY OF THE SHRUBS.
May 13.
We started early and the morning was beautifully serene and clear. The shrubs which gracefully fringed the plains were very picturesque in their outline, and the delicate tints of their green foliage contrasted beautifully with the more prevailing light grey tinge, and with white stems and branches; while the warmer green of one or two trees of Australian rosewood relieved the sober greyish green of the pendent acacia. At 5 1/2 miles the river took a westerly bend, the ground on its banks being higher than usual. From a tree at this point two small hills (supposed to be the Twins) bore west-north-west distant about twelve miles. At 9 miles 35 chains the south of the Twins bore 258 degrees, distant about four miles; at 10 miles 28 chains, the southern of the Twins bore 249 degrees, the northern 252 degrees; and we encamped on reaching the creek, after a journey of fifteen miles. We had a fine view of the supposed Twins as we proceeded; and I found water on making the river where I wished to encamp.
May 15.
At daylight we set off for the hills (which I judged to be the Twins of Sturt) distant 8 1/4 miles. I found a group of small hills, composed of quartz rock, the strata of which were highly inclined, and the strike extended north-west and south-east. From the highest, which is the southern hill, I looked in vain for New Year’s range; the horizon in that direction being quite unbroken; hence I concluded that this could not be the Twins, and I named it Mount Hopeless. Several remarkable hills appeared however to the west and south-west, on all of which I took bearings with the theodolite. Their surface was naked and rocky, only a few trees consisting of pine (or callitris) and some dwarf gumtrees appearing on them; but the country within two miles of their base was more densely wooded than that nearer the Bogan. There were Callitris pyramidalis, Acacia longifolia, and eucalyptus amongst the trees, and the soil contained fragments of quartz mixed with red earth. I heard from the summit the mogo of a native at work on some tree close by, but saw neither himself nor the smoke of his fire. I returned in time to put the party in motion by twelve o’clock; and after a journey of 8 1/4 miles we encamped, as usual, near the left bank of the Bogan. Water seemed more abundant in this part of the river, for, on the three last occasions, we had found some as soon as we approached the bank. The pond near our present encampment was large and deep, and there were others above and below it.
DANGEROUS CONSEQUENCE OF SURPRISING A NATIVE.
As the party were pitching the tents I was, according to my usual custom, in the bed of the Bogan with the barometer, when I heard, as from a pond lower down, some hideous yells, then a shot, and immediately afterward our overseer shouting “hold him!” I hurried up the bank and saw a native running, bleeding, and screaming most piteously. He was between me and our tents, which were beyond some trees, and quite out of sight from the Bogan; but one or two men, on their way for water, soon drew near. The overseer came to me limping, and stated that, on approaching the pond with his gun looking for ducks, this native was there alone, sitting with his dog beside a small fire; that, as soon as he saw Burnett, he yelled hideously, and running at him in a furious manner up the bank, he immediately threw a fire-stick and one of his boomerangs, the latter of which struck Burnett on the leg, the other having passed close over his shoulder. The native still advancing upon him with a boomerang, he discharged his piece in his own defence, alarmed, as any man must have been, under such circumstances. The native kept calling out loudly and pathetically, but he had now ceased running, perhaps from seeing the cattle ahead of him. Notwithstanding the entreaties of the men that I should not go within reach of his missiles, I advanced with a green branch in my hand towards this bleeding and helpless child of nature.
HIS CONFIDENCE GAINED BY KIND TREATMENT.
Upon seeing this he immediately ceased calling out, seemed to ask some question, and then at once threw aside the weapons which he held, and sat down on the ground. On my going up to him, I found he had received the shot on various parts of his body, but chiefly on his left hand and wrist which were covered with blood.
WOUNDED NATIVE LED TO OUR CAMP.
I with difficulty prevailed on him to go with me to the tents, making signs that I wished to dress his wounds. This The Doctor immediately did, applying lint and Friars balsam to them. During the operation he stared wildly around him, at the sheep and bullocks, horses, tents, etc. It was evident he had never seen, perhaps scarcely even ever heard of, such animals as he now saw, and certainly had never before seen a white man. I gave him a piece of bread which he did not taste, saying he should take it to Einer (his gin or wife). He knew not a word of the low jargon usually taught the natives by our people; but he spoke incessantly in his own purer language, scarcely a word of which we understood, beyond you, two gins, fire, doctor (coradje) and to sleep. One circumstance, very trifling certainly, to mention here, may serve however to show the characteristic quickness of these people. He had asked for a bit of fire to be placed beside him (the constant habit of the naked aborigines) and, on seeing a few sparks of burning grass running towards my feet, he called out to me “we, we” (i.e. fire, fire!) that I might avoid having my clothes burnt. This consideration in a savage, amid so many strange objects, and while suffering from so many new and raw wounds received from one of us, was, at least, an instance of that natural attentiveness, if I may so call it, which sometimes distinguishes the aborigines of Australia. This man of the woods at length by gestures asked my permission to depart, and also that he might take a fire-stick; and, in going, he said much which, from his looks and gestures, I understood as expressive of goodwill or thanks, in his way. He further asked me to accompany him till he was clear of the bullocks, and thus he left us. This unfortunate affair arose solely from our too suddenly approaching the waterholes where the tribes usually resort. We had observed the caution with which those natives who guided us always went near such places, by preceding us a good way and calling out; I determined therefore in future to sound my bugle where I meant to encamp, that the natives might not be surprised by our too sudden approach, but have time to retire if they thought proper to do so.
May 15.
We moved off early, and travelled sixteen miles, when we reached some good ponds on the Bogan; having passed a remarkable bend in that river to the westward.
May 16.
After proceeding a few miles on our route this morning we saw from a tree, in the skirt of a plain, a range bearing North 331 degrees. The bends of the creek sent me much to the westward of that direction: and we crossed some rotten or hollow ground which delayed the carts. On proceeding beyond this we came to a fire where we heard natives shouting, and we then saw them running abreast of us, but I did not court a closer acquaintance. Soon after, seeing an extensive tract of soft, broken, or rotten ground before me, I took to the left, in order to gain a plain, where the surface was firm. On reaching this plain, the dogs killed two kangaroos, and a little further the soil changing, became red and firm, with some dry ponds, and though there was little timber yet I had never before seen several of the kinds of trees. A little before sunset we reached a slight eminence consisting of a compound of quartz and felspar, and from it I had a view of New Year’s Range of Hume, bearing North 97 degrees, and of a higher range to the west of it. We finally encamped without water on a fine, open, forest flat, about two miles southward of the former range.
TRACES OF CAPTAIN STURT’S VISIT.
May 17.
At two miles from our bivouac we crossed a small rill descending to the south-east from hills which might be New Year’s range. At 5 1/4 miles we encamped on the Bogan, the most northern but one of five hills supposed to be the New Year’s range, bearing 240 degrees. From this point the northern extremity of the ridge extending from the hills bore 25 degrees. At twelve o’clock I went to these heights, and on the first I ascended I found several stumps of pine (or Callitris pyramidalis) which had been cut down with an axe, the remains of them being still visible amongst the ashes of a fire. I was thus satisfied that this was the hill on which Captain Sturt’s party burnt the trees when a man was missing. Still however a better range to the westward was unaccounted for; but, on ascending a hill which was still higher and whose rocky crest was clear of trees, I was able to identify the whole by the bearings of the high land as given in Captain Sturt’s book, and by the strip of plain visible in the south, which had appeared to that traveller to resemble the bed of a rapid river. This plain happened to be the one we had crossed the day before, and I had then observed the waterholes, also mentioned, and that they had been long dry. No traces besides those already noticed remained of the visit of the first discoverers of New Year’s range.
During my absence three natives had been near the camp, two old men and one very strong and tall young one. They appeared very much afraid, and barely remained to receive the flag of truce (a green branch) sitting with their eyes fixed on the ground and retiring soon after. I do not think any water could be found nearer than the Bogan at this time, although I observed hollows between the hills where it would probably remain some time after rain, and where, I suppose, Captain Sturt’s party found it. I made the latitude of the camp to be 30 degrees 26 minutes 24 seconds, and that of the hill 30 degrees 27 minutes 45 seconds.
May 18.
We moved off to the northward, and at seven miles came upon the river where there was a reach for about a mile of deep water; and soon after we attained that part of it where the bed was of granite, but quite dry. The bank was here unusually even, like that of a canal, having also little wood; no polygonum or rhagodia appeared there. Soon after we traversed a soil composed of gravel, about the size of stones broken for roads; the fragments were a good deal rounded, and all of granite. We finally encamped on the river after crossing its usual belt of soft hollow ground, which was rather distressing to the bullocks. The roads of the natives frequenting this part of the Bogan were well beaten, but none of the inhabitants made their appearance.
May 19.
We started at the usual hour, keeping first to the south of west, in order to clear the ground near the Bogan, and then on 300 degrees. I obtained from several parts of the route bearings on the hills west by south of New Year’s range, and which were higher and more conspicuous than the latter.
We came upon a bend of the river with good waterholes at 11 3/4 miles, and encamped as usual on the clearest ground near it.
OXLEY’S TABLELAND.
May 20.
We moved forwards on the bearing of west-north-west until, at 5 1/2 miles, we reached the top of the Pink Hills, where, for the first time, I saw Oxley’s Tableland, bearing 5 degrees south of west, and distant apparently about thirteen or fourteen miles, also Druid’s Mount, bearing 10 1/2 degrees west of north. Seeing the first-mentioned hill so near, I should have made for it, had I felt certain that water remained in the swamp mentioned by Captain Sturt, and that the bullocks could reach the hill before night. But they were now proceeding slowly and half tired; and I considered it, upon due reflection, to be more advisable to go in a north-west direction towards the Bogan. On the western slope of these hills we found some of the pinks in flower, from which probably they have been named. There was also an unusual verdure about the grass, and a fragrance and softness in the western breeze which seemed to welcome us to that interior region, and imparted a mildness to the air, while picturesque clouds in the western sky led active fancy into still finer regions under them.
We finally encamped on a plain about a mile from the Bogan where the highest of Oxley’s Tableland bore 250 degrees from north, being distant eighteen miles. We had now reached a better country for grass than we had seen since we left Buree; and there was still a verdure in the blade and stalk, as well as a fulness in the tufts, which looked well for our poor cattle after a continuous journey of sixteen days.
MR. LARMER’S EXCURSION TO IT.
May 21.
The party halted in this plain while Mr. Larmer went to Oxley’s Tableland to ascertain if the swamp there contained water. Having to take some observations and bring up an arrear of various other matters, I could not then visit that hill, though I wished much to do so. I found its latitude to be 30 degrees 11 minutes 15 seconds South, and longitude 146 degrees 16 minutes 9 seconds East. The extreme lowness of the country and of the bed of the Bogan, which was now, according to the barometer, near the level of the sea, left little room to doubt that the Darling could be much above that level. Mr. Larmer’s report, on returning in the evening after a ride of forty miles, was by no means in favour of Oxley’s Tableland as a place even of temporary encampment, there being no longer any swamp containing water; on the contrary, the only water that he could discover about the hill, after much search on and around it, was a small spring in a hollow on the northern side. His account of the surrounding country was equally unfavourable, for he stated that it was very brushy, and without good grass.
NARROW ESCAPE FROM THE LOSS OF THE CATTLE.
Now it was obvious that had we, according to a suggestion sent to the government by Captain Sturt, proceeded on the 20th of May to Oxley’s Tableland, trusting to find abundance of water, the loss of our cattle would have been inevitable. To have reached that point we must have made one long day’s journey, and the distance thence to the nearest part of the Bogan could not have been accomplished in another. On the third day, the two preceding having been passed without water, the animals would have been unable to go further.
The specimen brought from the hill by Mr. Larmer appeared to be a quartzose conglomerate.
May 22.
I continued my journey along the Bogan, and in crossing and recrossing it once we passed several reaches of water. The country was generally open, and we encamped on another fine grassy plain after travelling about twelve miles. This day, in chasing an emu, I dropped a telescope which had been in my possession twenty-four years, having used it in the survey of many a field of battle.
THE PARTY FOLLOWED BY A CLAMOROUS TRIBE.
May 23.
We proceeded as usual. The calls of the natives, first heard at a distance in the woods, having become more loud and at length incessant, I answered them in a similar tone; and having halted the carts I galloped over a bit of clear rising-ground towards the place whence the voices came, followed by five men.
A PARLEY.
A tribe of eighteen or twenty natives were coming forward, but the sight of my horse galloping made those in the rear turn back, when I immediately alighted and walked towards them with a green tuft. The two foremost and strongest of the party came forward, and when I sat down they advanced with boomerangs in hand. Seeing that they retained these weapons, I arose, upon which they, understanding me immediately, threw the boomerangs aside. I then went up to the two in advance, the tribe following behind. The leader had lost an eye, and the three principal men seemed very strong fellows. I invited them to come forward, but they hesitated until my escort, which was still some way back, sat down. I mounted my horse to show the animal’s docility, and thus remove their dread of it; but they immediately turned to run, whereupon I alighted and led their chief a little nearer, but they were very unwilling to approach my party. At length I presented the one-eyed leader with a tomahawk, and they all sat down. This native seemed a manly intelligent fellow. To all which he appeared to comprehend of what I said his answer was “Awoy,” accompanied by a nod, as if he had said “O yes.” On my mentioning Goindura Gally, and making the signs of paddling a canoe, he pointed immediately to the westward. This term I understood from the Bungan tribe to mean saltwater; water being kally, gally, or gallo. So bungan gallo was the name of the lower Bogan, and Bogan gallo that of the upper Bogan. Goindura I understood to mean salt, in consequence of that word having been used by the chief of the Bogan when I showed him some salt.
THEIR VARIOUS COMPLEXIONS.
Among the tribe we now communicated with there appeared a greater variety of feature and complexion than I had ever seen in aboriginal natives elsewhere; most of them had straight brown hair, but others had Asiatic features, much resembling Hindoos, with a sort of woolly hair.
DECOROUS BEHAVIOUR.
There were two old men with grey beards who sat silent; and one who maintained a very ceremonious face seemed intent on preserving decorum, for he silenced a boy with a slight blow who had eagerly spoken while I was endeavouring to remind them of the former exploring party. After they had sat a very short time and I had pointed out the direction in which I was proceeding, they arose and went away, and we continued our journey. After we had advanced a mile or two a deep reach of the Bogan appeared on our right, or northward; and one of the natives, followed by others who remained at some distance behind, came up to tell us there was water. We accordingly gave the cattle some, and then went on, finally encamping on a bit of plain near the Bogan where Oxley’s Tableland bore about south-south-east, and having travelled nearly twelve miles. Observed latitude 33 degrees 3 minutes 29 seconds South.
NAKED PLAINS.
May 24.
The party moved this morning about seven miles towards the west until Oxley’s Tableland bore 125 degrees. We travelled chiefly across plains destitute of grass; and from which we had good views of that strangely named hill, never seen by Oxley, and in fact, not a tableland.
A NATIVE VISITOR.
A native came after us, bearing a small piece of canvas which had been thrown away at the former camp. He accompanied us during the rest of the day’s journey, and I gave him a tomahawk, and a seventh part of my old sword blade. He continued at the camp, and asked for everything he saw, but we took care not to understand him.
SOFT EARTH OF THE PLAINS.
All over these plains the ground was so soft, being quite clear of roots or sward, that the cartwheels sunk very deep in it. The soil nevertheless appeared to be excellent, although it was naked like fallow land, for the roots of the umbelliferous plants which grew there had so little hold that they were easily set loose by the winds and lay about the surface. At dark five natives advanced along our track, shouting, but remaining at a distance. I sent two men to them (one with a fire-stick) in order to tell them we were going to sleep. Two of the party were old men, one having hoary hair, and all five carried spears, which they stuck in the ground, and sat down as soon as our people went up to them. After that interview they decamped towards the Bogan.
May 25.
Early this morning the same men came to a tree, at some distance from the tents. I went to them and showed them my watch, compass, etc.; when they pointed to the northward, making motions by which I supposed they meant to represent three courses of the sun; and I therefore concluded that they had seen me on the Karaula three years before.
RIDE TO THE DARLING.
I then gave them a piece of my broken sword, and set off with a party on horseback to see the river Darling. By half-past ten I made this river at a distance of eight miles from our camp, by riding first three miles west, and then five in the direction of 20 degrees north of west by compass. The people with me immediately declared it was our old acquaintance the Karaula, unaltered in a single feature. Here we saw the same description of broken earthy banks; the same kind of lofty trees, and the long, deep, and still reaches, so characteristic of a lengthened and slumbering course.
THE WATER SWEET.
But the great question to be determined was the quality of the water, which, appearing to me from the top of the bank, very transparent, and of a greenish tinge, and without any indication of a current, I did not doubt was salt, as when first discovered in nearly the same latitude by Sturt. I was however so agreeably surprised, on descending the steep bank, to find the taste perfectly sweet, that I began to doubt if this river could be The Darling, thinking, from the difference in the longitude especially, that it might still be the lower part of the Bogan, the course of which continued westward, and on my right as I rode from the camp. I proceeded some distance down the river, and found the reaches to extend first west-north-west, next north-north-east (half a mile) then south-west by south (1 1/2 miles); I was at length satisfied that this was indeed the river Darling, and I was no less gratified in perceiving a slight current in it with no obstruction for our boats as far as I had yet examined. The paths of the natives were fresh-trodden, but we saw none of them, and I returned towards the camp, where I arrived by two P.M. The bed of the Darling at the place where we reached it could not be elevated more, according to the state of the barometrical column (as compared at the time with that of my barometer as it had stood at Parramatta bridge) than 250 feet above the level of the sea.
NATIVES AFRAID OF THE SHEEP.
I found that the natives whom I had left at the camp no longer remained there, having quitted it soon after my departure, apparently afraid of the sheep!
May 26.
A party of our friends the natives again made their appearance; and five of them, including the three who had visited us yesterday, took their stations under the same tree, while a number of gins and children remained on the border of the scrub, half a mile off. Just before the camp broke up I went to them and gave a tomahawk to an old grey-haired man. The chief spokesman was a ferocious forward sort of savage, to whom I would rather have given anything than a tomahawk, from the manner in which he handled my pockets. My horse awaited me and I by signs explained to them that I was going. I suspect that Watta is their familiar name for the Darling from their use of this word on any sign being made in reference to the river.
THE PARTY ENCAMPS ON A FAVOURABLE POSITION ON THE DARLING RIVER.
We proceeded on a bearing of 251 degrees until at 15 miles and 45 chains we reached the bank of the Darling. The cattle had been at some places rather distressed from the heaviness of the ground, having had scarcely any food for the last two days except a hard, dry, composite plant which usurped the place of grass. The camp I had left, which was in other respects a fine position, could not possibly have served as a depot for the cattle. We were extremely fortunate however in the place to which the bounteous hand of providence had led us. Abundance of pasture; indeed such excellent grass as we had not seen in the whole journey, covered the fine open forest ground on the bank of the river! There were four kinds but the cattle appeared to relish most a strong species of anthisteria, or kangaroo grass. But the position to which we had come, on so straight a line, reaching it however only at sunset, surpassed anything I had expected to find on this river. It consisted of the highest ground in the neighbourhood, rising gradually from the lower levels by which we had approached the river to an elevated and extensive plateau overlooking a deep and broad reach. This was covered or protected on the north by a green swamp which was again shut in by an extensive bend of the Darling. On the west and north-west there was little timber in the way; and the whole place seemed extremely favourable for the object about which I was then most anxious, namely, the establishment of a secure depot and place of defence.
CHAPTER 2.5.
Rain at last.
Stockade erected.
Named Fort Bourke.
Visited by the natives.
Mortality among them from smallpox. Results of the journey.
Friendly disposition of a native.
Boats launched.
Presents to natives.
They become importunate.
We leave the depot and embark in the boats. Slow progress down the river.
Return to the depot.
Natives in canoes.
Excursion with a party on horseback. A perfumed vegetable.
Interview with natives.
Present them with tomahawks.
Unsuccessful search for Mr. Hume’s marked tree. Ascend D’Urban’s group.
Promising view to the southward.
A burnt scrub full or spinous dead boughs. A night without water.
Return to the camp.
The party proceeds down the Darling. Surprise a party of natives.
New acacia.
Mr. Hume’s tree found.
Fall in the Darling.
Surprised by a party of natives.
Emu killed by the dogs.
Dunlop’s range.
Meet the Puppy tribe.
Ascend Dunlop’s range.
High land discovered to the westward. Grass pulled and piled in ricks by the natives. Hills beyond the Darling.
Convenient refraction.
Native huts.
Interview with the Red tribe.
The Puppy tribe.
How to avoid the sandy hills and soft plains. Macculloch’s range.
Visit a hill beyond the Darling.
View from its summit.
RAIN AT LAST.
May 27.
During the night the wind blew and rain fell for the first time since the party left the colony. As we had been travelling for the last month on ground which must have become impassable after two days of wet weather, it may be imagined what satisfaction our high position gave me when I heard the rain patter. The morning being fair I reconnoitred the course of the river and the environs of our camp, and at once selected the spot on which our tents then stood for a place of defence, and a station in which the party should be left with the cattle. The boats were immediately lowered from the carriage, and although they had been brought 500 miles across mountain ranges and through trackless forests, we found them in as perfect a state as when they left the dockyard at Sydney.
STOCKADE ERECTED.
Our first care was to erect a strong stockade of rough logs, that we might be secure under any circumstances; for we had not asked permission to come there from the inhabitants, who had been reported to be numerous, and who would of course soon make their appearance. All hands were set to fell trees and cut branches, and in a very short time a stockade was in progress, capable of a stout resistance against any number of natives.
NAMED FORT BOURKE.
As the position was in every respect a good one, either for its present purpose or, hereafter perhaps, for a township, and consequently was one important point gained by this expedition, I named it Fort Bourke after His Excellency the present Governor, the better to mark the epoch in the progress of interior discovery.
VISITED BY THE NATIVES.
May 28.
This morning some natives appeared on the opposite bank of the river, shouting and calling, but keeping at a respectful distance from the bullocks, some of which had already crossed. At length they ventured over and, on my going to meet them, they sat down about 200 yards from the tents. The party consisted of four men and a boy, followed by seven women and children who sat at a little distance behind.
MORTALITY AMONG THEM FROM SMALLPOX.
The men carried no spears and looked diminutive and simple; most of them had had the smallpox, but the marks were not larger than pin heads. I found they had either seen or heard of Captain Sturt’s party for, pointing to the sun, they showed me that six revolutions of that source of heat had elapsed since the visit of others like us. Other gestures, such as a reference to covering, and expressions of countenance, made their indications of the lapse of time plain enough. It seemed to me that the disease which it was understood had raged among them (probably from the bad water) had almost depopulated the Darling, and that these people were but the remains of a tribe. The females were numerous in proportion to the males, and they were not at all secluded by the men, as in places where the numerical proportions were different. All these natives (with the exception of the boy) had lost the right front tooth. They had a very singular mode of expressing surprise, making a curious short whistle by joining the tongue and lips. The gins were hideous notwithstanding they were rouged with red ochre, by way, no doubt, of setting off their charms. I gave to one man a piece of my sword blade, and to another a tomahawk, which he carefully wrapped in the paper in which I had kept it, and he seemed much pleased with his present. They pointed to the west as the general course of the river.
RESULTS OF THE JOURNEY.
The results of our journey thus far were, first, the survey of the Bogan, nearly from its sources to its junction with the Darling. This I considered no trifling addition to Australian geography; for the knowledge of the actual course of a long river, however diminutive the channel, may often determine to a great extent the character of the country through which it passes. In the present instance it may be remarked that, had Captain Sturt considered the course of this river when he named the lower part of it New Year’s Creek, the idea that the plains which he saw to the southward of New Year’s range formed the “channel of a broad and rapid river” never could have occurred to him; for the basin of the Bogan being bounded on the west by a succession of low hills, no other river could have been reasonably looked for in such a direction. Again, the connection of that chain of low hills with the higher lands of the colony, being thus indicated by the course of the Bogan, it is not probable that this traveller, had he been aware of the fact, would have described New Year’s range, which is about the last of these hills, as “the FIRST elevation in the interior of Eastern Australia, to the westward of Mount Harris.” On the contrary, the divergent lines of the Bogan and the Lachlan might rather have been supposed to include a hilly country which, increasing in height in proportion as its breadth thus became greater, would naturally form that high ground so likely to separate the Upper Darling from the valley of the Murray.
Secondly. The continuous course of the Bogan into the Darling being thus at length determined, Duck creek, a deeper chain of ponds in the level country nearer to the Macquarie, could only be considered the final channel for the waters of that river in their course towards the Darling; and it only remained to be ascertained on our return at what point these waters of the Macquarie separated during its floods from the main stream.
Thirdly. The non-existence of any swamp under Oxley’s Tableland furnished another proof of the extreme vicissitudes of climate to which that part of Australia is subject. This spot had been specially recommended to government by Captain Sturt as the best place for my depot, on account of the water to be found there, whereas we had found that vicinity so dry that had I relied too implicitly on the suggestion I must, as already observed, in all probability, have lost the cattle.
Fourthly. The water of the Darling, which when discovered had been salt, was now fresh, thus proving that there was on this last occasion a greater abundance of water in the river; while the swamp dried up, proved that less remained upon the surface than when this country had been previously visited.
The geological character of the country was obvious enough, the hills consisting of quartz rock and that fine-grained red sandstone which characterises the most barren regions of New South Wales. Below this rock granite appeared in the bed of the Bogan precisely at the place where this river, after a long course nearly parallel to the Macquarie, at length takes a remarkable turn westward towards the Darling.
FRIENDLY DISPOSITION OF A NATIVE.
May 29.
We this day completed the stockade and had felled most of the timber near it; and I was glad to find that the blacks had already resumed their usual occupations. One of those, whom I saw yesterday, while passing down the river today on a piece of bark, perceived Mr. Larmer fishing, upon which he approached the riverbank, and after throwing to him a fish which he had caught, continued in his frail bark to float down the stream. This was a most prepossessing act of kindness, and I begged Mr. Larmer to endeavour to recognise the man again and show our sense of it by suitable presents.
EMBARK IN THE BOATS.
May 30.
This morning we launched the boats and one of them, which had never floated before, was called by the men The Discovery. I therefore named the other The Resolution, telling them that they had now the names of Captain Cook’s two ships for our river-navigating vessels. Most of the loads were also arranged today for embarkation, including three months’ rations: three months supplies were also left for the garrison, besides a store of one month for the whole party, to serve for the journey home. This day our Vulcan presented me with a good blade, forged on the Darling and tempered in its waters. We were fortunate in our blacksmith, for he also made some good pikes or spearheads, which he mounted on long poles, to be carried in the boats.
PRESENTS TO NATIVES.
May 31.
The same natives with an old man and a very wild-looking young one, covered with red ochre, total gules, came to their tree, and I went to them. I gave the old man a spike-nail sharpened, but he asked for a tomahawk, and I then gave him one.
THEY BECOME IMPORTUNATE.
This last gift only made our visitors more importunate; but I at length left them to attend to more important matters. Soon after, the man to whom I first gave a tomahawk beckoned me to come to him again, and I went up with my rifle, demanding what more he wanted; whereupon he only laughed, and soon after pulled my handkerchief from my pocket. I restored it to its place in a manner that showed I disliked the freedom taken with it. I then sent a ball into a tree a good way off, which seemed to surprise them; and having made them understand that such a ball would easily pierce through six blackfellows, I snapped my fingers at one of their spears, and hastened to the camp. I considered these hints the more necessary as the natives seemed to think us very simple fools who were ready to part with everything. Thus enlightened as to the effect of our firearms these thankless beggars disappeared; although several gins and some men still sat on the opposite bank, observing our boats.
WE LEAVE THE DEPOT AND EMBARK IN THE BOATS.
June 1.
Everything being ready I embarked with Mr. Larmer and 14 men, leaving the depot in charge of Joseph Jones (assistant overseer) and six other men, armed with four muskets and as many pistols. We proceeded well enough some way down the river, but at length a shallow reach first occasioned much delay, and afterwards rocks so dammed up the channel that it was necessary to unload and draw the boats over them.
SLOW PROGRESS DOWN THE RIVER.
Our progress was thus extremely slow, notwithstanding the activity and exertions of the men, who were almost constantly in the water, although a bitter cold wind blew all day. By sunset we had got over a bad place where there was a considerable fall, when, on looking round the point, we found that the bed of the river was full of rocks, to the extent of nearly a mile. I therefore encamped only a few miles from the depot, the latitude being 30 degrees 9 minutes 59 seconds South.
RETURN TO THE DEPOT.
These unexpected impediments to our progress down the river determined me to return to the depot with the boats, and afterwards to explore its course on horseback until I could discover more of its character and ultimate course.
No time had yet been lost, for the horses and cattle had required some rest; and the depot was still desirable as a place of defence while I proceeded down with the horses. We had however acquired such a knowledge of the bed, banks, and turnings of the river at this part as could not have been otherwise obtained. The water being beautifully transparent the bottom was visible at great depths, showing large fishes in shoals, floating like birds in mid-air. What I have termed rocks are only patches of ferruginous clay which fill the lowest part of the basin of this river. The bed is composed either of that clay or of a ferruginous sandstone exactly similar to that on the coast near Sydney, and which resembles what was formerly called the iron-sand of England, where it occurs, as before stated, both as a fresh and saltwater formation. At the narrows the quantity of running water was very inconsiderable, but perhaps as much as might have turned a mill. It made some noise among the stones however although at the very low level of this river compared to its distance from the known coasts it could not fall much. I was nevertheless unwilling to risk the boats among the rocks or clay banks, and accordingly decided on returning to the camp.
June 2.
We proceeded up the river with the boats, re infecta, and reached the depot about two o’clock, where we found all things going on as I had directed.
NATIVES IN CANOES.
As we pulled up the river two natives appeared at a distance in one of the long reaches, fishing in two small canoes. On observing our boats they dashed the water up, paddling with their spears, and thus scudding with great rapidity to the right bank, where they left their canoes and instantly disappeared. These vessels were of the simplest construction; so slight indeed that it seemed to us singular how a man could float in one, for it was merely a sheet of bark, with a little clay at each end; yet there was a fire besides in each, the weather being very cold. A native, when he wishes to proceed, stands erect and propels the canoe with the short spear he uses in fishing; striking the water with each end alternately, on each side of the canoe, and he thus glides very rapidly along.
EXCURSION WITH A PARTY ON HORSEBACK.
June 3.
I set off with four men on horseback to examine the river downwards, proceeding first two miles on a bearing of 151 degrees, and then south-west. At about 20 miles we made an angle of the river where the left bank was 50 feet high. None of the usual indications of the neighbourhood of the Darling appeared here. No flats of Polygonum junceum, nor falls in the ground. The river was evidently encroaching on this high bank which consisted of red sandy earth to the depth of ten feet. Below this stratum was clay mixed with calcareous concretions. The opposite bank was lower and very grassy; and the water in the river was brackish; but a small spring oozing from the rocks above-mentioned, at about two feet above the water of the river, was perfectly sweet. From this bend the highest point of D’Urban’s group bore 151 degrees (from north). About one half of the way which we had come today lay across plains, the last portion we crossed containing several hollows, thickly overgrown with the Polygonum junceum. Between these low parts the ground was rather more elevated than usual, especially where D’Urban’s group bore 163 degrees (from north). The undulations were probably connected with that range, and their position afforded some clue to the western bends of the river. We passed in a scrub a young gin and a boy. They did not begin to run until we stood still and had called to them for some time. As there was still light to spare I proceeded onward, travelling west-south-west, and with difficulty regained sight of the river at dusk. Here the water was still more brackish but quite good enough for use; and we passed the night in a hollow by the riverside.
June 4.
At an angle of the river, below the gully in which we had slept, a rocky dyke crossed the stream in a north-north-west direction. It consisted of a very hard ferruginous sandstone resembling that on the eastern coast. This must have been another of the many impediments to our boat navigation had we proceeded by water, and from the general appearance of the river I was satisfied that a passage with boats could not have been attempted in its present state with any prospect of getting soon down. We travelled on, without seeing the river, from seven until twelve, following a south-west course, then due west, and in this direction we crossed the broad dry bed of a watercourse coming from the south-east, having previously observed high ground on the left.
A PERFUMED VEGETABLE.
The bed of this watercourse was covered with a plant resembling clover or trefoil, but it had a yellow flower, and a perfume like that of woodrooffe.* A fragrant breeze played over this richest of clover fields and reminded me of new-mown hay. The verdure and the perfume were new to my delighted senses, and my passion for discovering something rich and strange was fully gratified, while my horse, defying the rein, seemed no less pleased in the midst of so delicious a feast as this verdure must have appeared to him. The ground seemed to rise before me, and I was proceeding with the intention of ascending the nearest elevation to look for the Darling when I suddenly came upon its banks, which were higher, and its bed was broader and deeper than ever!
(*Footnote. See below for Dr. Lindley’s description of this plant.)
INTERVIEW WITH NATIVES.
We had also arrived on it at a point occupied by a numerous tribe of blacks, judging by the number of fires which we saw through the trees. Their roads appeared in all directions, and their gins were fishing in the river at a distance. In short, the buzz of population gave to the banks at this place the cheerful character of a village in a populous country. Conscious of the alarm our first appearance was likely to produce, although I could not suppose that all the inhabitants would run off, I hastened to the water edge with our horses (for they had not drunk that morning) in order that we might, after refreshing them, recover a position favourable for a parley with whoever might approach us. I was much pleased, though surprised, to find the water again quite fresh, and its current still sustained.* Our appearance caused less alarm than I had even expected. A sturdy man hailed me from a distance and came boldly up, followed by another very athletic, though old, individual, and six younger men with an old woman. I alighted and met them after sending, at their request, the horses out of sight. With difficulty I persuaded them at length to go near the horses; but I endeavoured in vain to gain any information as to the further course of the river. The Callewatta was still their name for it, as it was higher up. I observed here that the old woman was a loquacious and most influential personage, scarcely allowing the older of the men to say a word.
(*Footnote. See below.)
PRESENT THEM WITH TOMAHAWKS.
The curiosity of these people was too intense to admit of much attention on their part, at that time, either to our words or gestures so, after giving them a tomahawk and two large nails, and refusing to let them have my pocket-handkerchief (no unusual request, for such natives always found it out) I mounted, and we galloped off to the eastward, their very singular mode of expressing surprise being audible until we were at some distance. On reaching that point in my track where I had in the morning changed the direction of my ride, I took off to the north-north-east, in search of the river, and at six miles we reached a branch of it where it formed an island. We did not arrive here until long after sunset and were, consequently, in an unpleasant state of ignorance as to the locality, but we made our fire in a hollow, as on the preceding night, and could only rely on the surrounding silence for security. The result of the excursion thus far was that I ascertained that angle of the river which I first made on this tour to be the part nearest of all to D’Urban’s group; that its general course thence to the lowest position at which I had seen it (the direct distance being 21 miles) is nearly two points more to the westward than the course from the depot; and that, even at such a distance from Oxley’s Tableland and D’Urban’s group, the line of the river is evidently influenced by these heights, thus rendering it probable that it might be found to turn still more towards the west or north-west on its approaching any other hills situated on the left bank.
(*Footnote. See below.)
June 5.
I awoke thankful that we had been again guided to a solitary and secure place of rest. That no tribe was near admitted of little doubt after we had seen the morning dawn and found ourselves awake for, had our fire been discovered by any natives, it was very unlikely that any of us had been permitted to wake again.
UNSUCCESSFUL SEARCH FOR MR. HUME’S MARKED TREE.
Being within a mile and a half of where Captain Sturt and Mr. Hume had turned (as indicated by the bearing given by the former of D’Urban’s group, namely 58 degrees East of South) I looked along the riverbank for the tree described by the former as having Mr. Hume’s initials cut upon it, but without success, and at ten o’clock I left the river and rode on the same bearing to D’Urban’s group. The thick scrub, having been previously burnt, presented spikes like bayonets, which reduced our hurried ride to a walking pace, our horses winding a course through it as the skeleton trees permitted. In an unburnt open place I found one solitary specimen of a tree with light bluish-green leaves, and a taste and smell resembling mustard. It was no less remarkable for its rare occurrence and solitary character than for the flavour of its wood and remarkable foliage. I could obtain no seeds of it.*
(*Footnote. See description of this plant as discovered in a better state on the banks of the Murray, Volume 2 Chapter 3.6. June 5. Gyrostemon.)
ASCEND D’URBAN’S GROUP.
I ascended the highest and most southern summit, anxiously hoping to obtain a view of Dunlop’s range. The view was most satisfactory. I beheld a range, the first I had seen since I lost sight of Harvey’s. It was extensive and descended towards the river from the south-east, being a different kind of feature from the various detached hills which cannot form basins for rivers on these dead levels, nor even supply springs.
PROMISING VIEW TO THE SOUTHWARD.
Dunlop’s range certainly was not high, but its undulating crest, vanishing far in the south-east, showed its connection with the high ground south of the Bogan; and a long line of smoke skirting its northern base afforded fair promise of some river or chain of ponds near which a native population could live. The course of the Darling was clearly marked out by its extensive plains and the darker line of large trees vanishing far in the west. Beyond, or westward of the river, no high ground appeared, no Berkley’s range as shown on the map, unless it might be a slight elevation, so very low and near as to be visible above the horizon, only from the foot of the hill on which I then stood. A few detached hills were scattered over the country between me and the Bogan; and of these Oxley’s Tableland was the most remarkable, being a finer mass by far than Mount Helvelyn. This ridge, the features of which are rather tame, consists of two hills (a and b) the principal or southern summit (a) being 910 feet, the other 660 feet, above the plain at their base. These heights are 2 1/2 miles from each other, which distance comprises the whole extent of D’Urban’s group, in the line of its summits between north-east and south-west.
The steep and rocky face of the ridge thus formed is towards the river, or westward. Eastward lower features branch off, and are connected by slight undulations with some of the otherwise isolated hills in that quarter. Towards the base is a very fine-grained sandstone, and at the summit I found a quartzose rock, possessing a tendency to break into irregular polygons, some of the faces being curved. There are a few stunted pines on the higher crest, but the other parts are nearly bare. The highest point of Helvelyn (which I take to be the southern summit) is distant from the nearest bend of the Darling 17 2/6 miles, on a line bearing 151 degrees from North, and from the highest part of Oxley’s Tableland, which bears 43 degrees from North (variation 6 degrees 30 minutes East) it is distant 39 miles. At this summit the western extremity of Dunlop’s range forms with Oxley’s Tableland an angle coinciding with the general course of the Darling, which flows through the adjacent plains at an average distance of about 16 miles from each of these points.
A BURNT SCRUB FULL OR SPINOUS DEAD BOUGHS.
It was nearly sunset when I mounted my horse at the foot of Helvelyn, intending to return to the Darling for, there being no other water in the whole country at that time, my intention was to travel back to this river by moonlight. I had found however during my ride to this hill, that the intervening country was covered by a half-burnt scrub, presenting sharp points between which we could scarcely hope to pass in safety by moonlight with our horses, since even in daylight we could not proceed except at a very slow pace. The half-burnt branches were armed with points so sharp as to penetrate, in one instance, the upper part of my horse’s hoof, and in another, a horse’s fetlock, from which a portion was drawn measuring more than an inch.
A NIGHT WITHOUT WATER.
I therefore determined to pass the night at a short distance from the foot of this hill, on a spot where I found some good grass.
RETURN TO THE CAMP.
June 6.
We proceeded to the Darling where we could, at length, have breakfast and water the horses. Returning from the river along our track to the camp I arrived there at seven in the evening with two of the men, the others having fallen behind on account of their horses. The latter however came in not long after, although it had been found necessary to leave one poor horse tied in the bush near the camp until sent for early next morning. On our way back we discovered that a native having a very large foot had followed our track for fifteen miles from where we had first alarmed the gin; it was therefore probable that he had not been far from where we slept in the hollow on the first evening.
THE PARTY LEAVES FORT BOURKE.
June 8.
We broke up our encampment on the position which I had selected for a depot (and which had served as such during our short absence down the river) and after proceeding two miles on the bearing of 151 degrees, in order to clear the river, we followed my previous track to the south-west.
THE PARTY PROCEEDS DOWN THE DARLING.
The ground crossed by the party this day consisted chiefly of plains with little scrub; and when we had travelled 12 1/2 miles, it appearing open towards a bend in the river, we made for the tall trees (our never-failing guides to water) on a bearing of 248 degrees. We reached the Darling at 14 1/4 miles and encamped near it.
SURPRISE A PARTY OF NATIVES.
As we approached this spot, and while I was reconnoitring the bank for the purpose of marking out the camp, I came suddenly upon a party of natives, one of whom giving a short cooey first made me aware of the circumstance. Burnett went towards them with a branch; but they hastily gathered up their things and fled. The party appeared to consist of two men and five women, and it doubtless belonged to the same tribe as the gins we had previously seen; and the men were probably those who had traced us so far. The river water was brackish; and in the bank was a bed of calcareous concretions which some of the men supposed to be bones.
June 9.
Striking again into the original south-west track by leaving the river on a bearing of 202 degrees we arrived on the eastern bend of it, where we had before breakfasted, and where we now heard natives, as if hastily making their escape. Continuing the journey to the next bend lower down we encamped at the head of the same gully in which I slept on the night between the 4th and 5th of June.
NEW ACACIA.
On passing through the bush this day we fell in with a tree that was new to me. It appeared to be very near Acacia eglandulosa (De C.) but the branches had so graceful a character that I was tempted to draw it while I awaited the arrival of the carts, whose progress through the spinous scrub already mentioned was very slow. The wood of this acacia was hard and of a dark brown colour. We gathered some stones of the fruit: and we brought away its stem also.
June 10.
The knowledge which I had acquired in my ride down the Darling now enabled me to follow the most desirable route in order to avoid the scrub, and travel along the plains near its banks. At five miles and twelve chains we approached a bend of the river, and found there the remains of a large hut, in the construction of which an axe had been used. It therefore occurred to me that we might be near the tree where Captain Sturt had turned from the Darling, and I found that the northern head of D’Urban’s group bore nearly 58 degrees East of South, the bearing given by him of this group.
MR. HUME’S TREE FOUND.
I therefore looked along the riverbank for the tree in question, but without success. In crossing a dry watercourse some miles further on it occurred to me that this might be the one at the mouth of which Mr. Hume had cut his name. I therefore sent overseer Burnett and The Doctor to trace the channel down, and to look for a tree so marked. They found at the mouth of the creek a very large and remarkable gumtree, and on the side next the river the letters H.H. appeared, although the cross-line of one H had grown out. The letters seemed to have been cut with a tomahawk, and were about five inches in length. The men cut my initials also on that tree, which to my regret I was prevented from seeing by a desire to attain a certain point with the party which I was consequently obliged to lead. We travelled for this purpose until after sunset, and then encamped at a distance of about a mile and a half to the southward of a bend of the Darling.
CATARACT IN THE DARLING.
Here the river formed a cataract of about two feet, falling over some argillaceous ironstone: and as the waters glittered in the moonlight I listened with awe to the unwonted murmur of this mysterious stream which poured through the heart of a desert, by its single channel, that element so essential to the existence of all animals. One of the men (Robert Whiting) had examined the river a mile and a half above the fall, and found the water there so very salt that he could not drink it, and he therefore proceeded downwards to this fall, where it proved to be good.
SURPRISED BY A PARTY OF NATIVES.
June 11.
In the morning, while examining the river below the fall, some natives hailed me from the opposite side, and soon afterwards, having slyly swum the river, they stole suddenly upon us while I sat drawing the cataract. One of our men heard them creeping along the bank above us, whereupon the whole party stood up and laughed. Among them I recognised the old man whom I had seen a few days previously on my excursion lower down the river. There was another old man who was more intelligent and less covetous than the rest. I gave him a clasp-knife with which he appeared much pleased, making the most expressive gestures of friendship and kindness by clasping me around the neck, and patting my back. The number of this tribe amounted to about twenty. I remarked among them an old woman having under her especial care a very fine-looking young one. They had swum across the river with as little inconvenience as if they had only stepped over it. The teeth and shape of the mouth of the young female were really beautiful, and indeed her person and modest air presented a good specimen of Australian womanhood. On leaving us they loudly pronounced a particular word which I as often repeated in reply; and they pointed to the earth and the water, giving us to understand in every way they could that we were welcome to the water, which they probably considered their own.
EMU KILLED BY THE DOGS.
As we crossed a plain the dogs set off after three emus, the pursued and the pursuers disappearing in the woods. Some time after, while passing through a scrub, we came upon the dogs standing quietly beside a dead emu. If not the first killed by them, it was at least the first that fell into our hands; and if this were the only one they had killed it was singular enough that the capture should have happened exactly in the line of our route. This acquisition we considered a favourable omen on our approaching the hills, for we had begun to despair of obtaining any of these swift though gigantic birds, inhabitants of the plains.
DUNLOP’S RANGE.
At length we reached rising ground, rather a novelty to us; and I continued my course across a ridge which appeared to be connected on the south with Dunlop’s range. It consisted of a very hard conglomerate composed of irregular concretions of milk-white quartz, in a ferruginous basis, with apparently compact felspar weathering white. It seemed the same kind of rock which I found nearest to the Karaula, in latitude 29 degrees.* On this hill we encamped for the night, the bend of the river nearest to us bearing north-north-east, and being distant about two miles. It was almost sunset before we took up our ground, and we had still to seek the nearest way to the river, through woods. Such occasions tried the nettle of my men; but he who, at the close of such days, was the first to set out for the river, with his bucket in hand, and musket on shoulder, was the man for me. Such men were Whiting, Muirhead, and The Doctor; and although I insisted on several going together on such an errand, I had some trouble to prevent these from setting out alone. The river made a sharp turn northward, and at the bend the water was deeper and broader than we had seen it elsewhere. The taste was perfectly sweet.
(*Footnote. See below.)
June 12.
We travelled for several miles over stony ground which gradually rose to a hill on our right, and then declined rapidly to the river. Descending at length to the level ground, we passed through much scrub which terminated on a plain, bounded on the side opposite to us by the large gumtrees or eucalypti, the never-failing indicators of the river. The stream there ran in a rather contracted channel, and over a sandy bed. Its course was to the southward, in which direction extensive plains appeared to stretch along its bank.
MEET THE PUPPY TRIBE.
As I approached the river a tribe of natives who were seated very near me at their fires, under a large tree, called out. We communicated in the usual manner, but I could learn nothing from them about the general course of the Darling lower down. I gave them a clasp-knife and two young pups of a good breed for killing kangaroos. They expressed astonishment at everything (no common trait in the aborigines) and I was obliged to sit cross-legged before a very old chief nearly blind while he examined my dress, shirt, pockets, etc. This tribe, like the others, was not at all numerous.
We proceeded until we arrived under the north-western extremity of Dunlop’s range, when we encamped on the margin of a small lagoon, evidently the remains of some flood which had been produced by the overflowing of the river, only half a mile distant to the north-west. The lagoon was more convenient to us for watering our cattle than the river, the left bank of which, adjacent to our camp, was broken to a much greater distance back than I had observed it to be anywhere higher up.
ASCEND DUNLOP’S RANGE.
June 13.
The wheels of the two carts requiring some repairs, and it being also necessary to shoe several horses, I thought it advisable to rest the party this day: I wished also to ascend Dunlop’s range. On climbing to the top I found that it consisted of a chain of hills composed of a very hard sandstone, or quartz rock, similar to that of D’Urban’s group. The summit was bare, not only of trees but even of grass, or any vegetation. This nakedness was however the more favourable for my chief object, which was to obtain a view of the distant country. The weather was not very auspicious, the sky being cloudy, and slight showers fell occasionally. The height of these hills is not considerable, the summit of that which I ascended was about 528 feet above the plains. It was seven miles to the