



Produced by Amy M Zelmer, Sue Asscher




THE MAKERS OF AUSTRALASIA.

EARLY VOLUMES
(IN PREPARATION).

CAPTAIN COOK and his Predecessors in Australasian Waters, by REGINALD
FORD, F.R.G.S., Member of the British National Antarctic Expedition.

GOVERNOR PHILLIP and his Immediate successors, BY F.M. BLADEN, Chief
Librarian, Public Library, Sydney.

EDWARD GIBBON WAKEFIELD, by THE EDITOR.

SIR GEORGE GREY, by JAMES COLLIER, sometime Librarian, General Assembly
Library, Wellington.


[Illustration. Captain Charles Sturt, aged about 54 years. From the
painting by Crossland.]



THE

EXPLORERS OF AUSTRALIA

AND THEIR LIFE-WORK.

BY

ERNEST FAVENC,

Explorer, and Author of The History of Australian Exploration, The
Geographical Development of Australia, Tales of the Austral Tropics, The
Secret of the Australian Desert, etc., and Voices of the Desert (Poems).



1908.



AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

In presenting to the public this history of those makers of Australasia
whose work consisted in the exploration of the surface of the continent
of Australia, I have much pleasure in drawing the reader's attention to
the portraits which illustrate the text. It is, I venture to say, the
most complete collection of portraits of the explorers that has yet been
published in one volume. Some of them of course must needs be
conventional; but many of them, such as the portrait of Oxley when a
young man, and of A.C. Gregory, have never been given publicity before;
and in many cases I have selected early portraits, whenever I had the
opportunity, in preference to the oft published portrait of the same
subject when advanced in years.

There are many who assisted me in the collection of these portraits. To
Mr. F. Bladen, of the Public Library, Sydney; Mr. Malcolm Fraser, of
Perth, Western Australia; Mr. Thomas Gill, of Adelaide; Sir John Forrest;
The Reverend J. Milne Curran; Mr. Archibald Meston; and many others my
best thanks are due. In fact, in such a work as this, one cannot hope for
success unless he seek the assistance of those who remembered the
explorers in life, or have heard their friends and relatives talk
familiarly of them. Let me particularly hope that from these pages our
youth, who should be interested in the exploration of their native land,
will form an adequate idea of the character of the men who helped to make
Australia, and of some of the adverse conditions against which they
struggled so nobly.

ERNEST FAVENC.

Sydney, 1908.


BIBLIOGRAPHY.

The published Journals of all the Explorers of Australia.
Reports of Explorations published in Parliamentary Papers.
History of New South Wales, from the Records. (Barton and Bladen.)
Account of New South Wales, by Captain Watkin Tench.
Manuscript Diaries of Blaxland, Lawson and Wentworth.
Manuscript Diaries of G.W. Evans. (Macquarie and Lachlan Rivers.)
The Pioneers of Victoria and South Australia, by various writers.
Contemporaneous Australian Journals of the several States.
Private letters and memoranda of persons in all the States.
Manuscript Diary of Charles Bonney.
Pamphlets and other bound extracts on the subject of exploration.
The Year Book of Western Australia.
Records of the Geographical Societies of South Australia and Victoria.
Russell's Genesis of Queensland.
Biographical Notes, by J.H. Maiden.
Spinifex and Sand, by David Carnegie.


INTRODUCTION.

In introducing this book, I should like to commend it to its readers as
giving an account of the explorers of Australia in a simple and concise
form not hitherto available.

It introduces them to us, tells the tale of their long-tried patience and
stubborn endurance, how they lived and did their work, and gives a short
but graphic outline of the work they accomplished in opening out and
preparing Australia as another home for our race on this side of the
world.

The battle that they fought and won was over great natural difficulties
and obstacles, as fortunately there were no ferocious wild beasts in
Australia, while the danger from the hostility of the aborigines (though
a barbarous people) was with care and judgment, with a few exceptions,
avoided.

Their triumph has resulted in peaceful progress and in permanent
occupation and settlement of a vast continent.

Of all the Australian explorers the fate of Leichhardt -- "the Franklin
of Australia," as the author so justly terms him -- is alone shrouded in
mystery. "No man knoweth his sepulchre to this day." His party of six
white men (including Leichhardt) and two black boys, with 12 horses, 13
mules, 50 bullocks, and 270 goats, have never been heard of since they
left McPherson's station on the Cogoon on 3rd April, 1848; and although
there have been several attempts to unravel the mystery, there is
scarcely a possibility of any discovery in regard to their fate ever
being made.

There can be no doubt that the fascination concerning the work of the
early explorers of Australia will gather strength as it goes. Hitherto we
have been too close to them rightly to appreciate what was done. This
book therefore comes at an opportune time, and is a valuable record. The
author has already done a great service to Australian explorations by his
writings, and in the present instance has added to our obligation to him
by condensing the records into a smaller compass, and by that means has
brought it within convenient limits for use in schools and for general
readers.

Of the explorers of Australia, eleven have been honoured by being placed
on the Golden Roll (Gold Medallists) of the Royal Geographical Society of
London; Edward John Eyre being the first to receive the honour in 1843,
and Ernest Giles being the eleventh and last to receive it in 1880. In
the order of Nature one generation passeth away and another generation
cometh, and so it comes to pass that every one on the Golden Roll except
myself has gone to the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller
returns.

That the Australian people will always remember the deeds of those, who,
in their day and generation, under arduous and difficult conditions
devoted themselves to the exploration of the Continent goes without
saying, and I, who in bygone years had the honour of assisting in the
task, heartily wish that such fruit may be born of those deeds that
Australia will continue to increase and flourish more and more
abundantly, and thus fulfil her destiny as the great civilising and
dominating power in the Southern Seas.

JOHN FORREST.

The Bungalow,
Hay Street, Perth,
Western Australia,
January 7th, 1908.



CONTENTS.

PREFACE.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

INTRODUCTION, by Sir John Forrest.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


TABLE OF CONTENTS.


PART 1. EASTERN AUSTRALIA.

CHAPTER 1. ORIGINS.
1.1. Governor Phillip.
1.2. Captain Tench.
1.3. The Blue Mountains: Barallier.
1.4. The Blue Mountains: Blaxland.

CHAPTER 2. GEORGE WILLIAM EVANS.
2.1. First Inland Exploration.
2.2. The Lachlan River.
2.3. The Unknown West.

CHAPTER 3. JOHN OXLEY.
3.1. General Biography.
3.2. His First Expedition.
3.3. The Liverpool Plains.
3.4. The Brisbane River.

CHAPTER 4. HAMILTON HUME.
4.1. Early Achievements.
4.2. Discovery of the Hume (Murray).

CHAPTER 5. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.
5.1. Coastal Expeditions.
5.2. Pandora's Pass.
5.3. The Darling Downs.

CHAPTER 6. CHARLES STURT.
6.1. Early Life.
6.2. The Darling.
6.3. The Passage of the Murray.

CHAPTER 7. SIR THOMAS MITCHELL.
7.1. Introductory.
7.2. The Upper Darling.
7.3. The Passage of the Darling.
7.4. Australia Felix.
7.5. Discovery of the Barcoo.

CHAPTER 8. THE EARLY FORTIES.
8.1. Angas McMillan and Gippsland.
8.2. Count Strzelecki.
8.3. Patrick Leslie.
8.4. Ludwig Leichhardt.

CHAPTER 9. EDMUND B. KENNEDY.
9.1. The Victoria River and Cooper's Creek.
9.2. A Tragic Expedition.

CHAPTER 10. LATER EXPLORATION IN THE NORTH-EAST.
10.1. Walker in Search of Burke and Wills.
10.2. Burdekin and Cape York Expeditions.


PART 2. CENTRAL AUSTRALIA.

CHAPTER 11. EDWARD JOHN EYRE.
11.1. Settlement of Adelaide and the Overlanders.
11.2. Eyre's Chief Journeys.

CHAPTER 12. ATTEMPTS TO REACH THE CENTRE.
12.1. Lake Torrens Pioneers and Horrocks.
12.2. Charles Sturt.

CHAPTER 13. BABBAGE AND STUART.
13.1. B. Herschel Babbage.
13.2. John McDouall Stuart.

CHAPTER 14. BURKE AND WILLS.

CHAPTER 15. BURKE AND WILLS RELIEF EXPEDITIONS AND ATTEMPTS TOWARDS
PERTH.
15.1. John McKinley.
15.2. William Landsborough.
15.3. Major P.E. Warburton.
15.4. William Christie Gosse.

CHAPTER 16. TRAVERSING THE CENTRE.
16.1. Ernest Giles.
16.2. W.H. Tietkins and Others.


PART 3. WESTERN AUSTRALIA.

CHAPTER 17. ROE, GREY, AND GREGORY.
17.1. Roe and the Pioneers.
17.2. Sir George Grey.
17.3. Augustus C. Gregory.

CHAPTER 18. A.C. AND F.T. GREGORY.
18.1. A.C. Gregory on Sturt's Creek and the Barcoo.
18.2. Frank T. Gregory.

CHAPTER 19. FROM WEST TO EAST.
19.1. Austin.
19.2. Sir John Forrest.
19.3. Alexander Forrest.

CHAPTER 20. LATER WESTERN EXPEDITIONS.
20.1. Cambridge Gulf and the Kimberley District.
20.2. Lindsay and the Elder Exploring Expedition.
20.3. Wells and Carnegie in the Northern Desert.
20.4. Hann and Brockman in the North-West.


INDEX OF NAMES OF PERSONS.


INDEX OF PLACE NAMES.


[ILLUSTRATIONS.


Captain Charles Sturt, aged about 54 years. From the painting by
Crossland.

Gregory Blaxland. Statue of Gregory Blaxland, Lands Office, Sydney.

George William Evans. Discoverer of the Macquarie and Lachlan Rivers.

John Oxley. From a portrait in the possession of Mrs. Oxley, of Bowral.
The portrait was presented to Mrs. King, widow of Governor King, in 1810,
and signed by him.

The Lachlan River at the point where Oxley left it on the 4th August,
1818, and struck North-East to gain the Macquarie River and follow that
river up to Bathurst. Photo by the Reverend J.M. Curran.

Hamilton Hume, in his later life.

Allan Cunningham.

Memorial to Allan Cunningham, Botanical Gardens, Sydney.

The Darling River, at Sturt's first view point. Photo by the Reverend J.
Milne Curran.

Junction of the Darling and Murray Rivers.

Sir Thomas Mitchell.

A Chief of the Bogan River Tribe. Photo by the Reverend J.M. Curran.

Ludwig Leichhardt.

John Frederick Mann. Born 1819, died September 7th, 1907, at Sydney. The
last survivor of a Leichhardt expedition.

Edmund B. Kennedy.

Wild Blacks of Cape York signalling.

Frank L. Jardine.

Alec W. Jardine.

Statue of John McDouall Stuart, in the Lands Office, Sydney.

Edward John Eyre.

John Ainsworth Horrocks.

Sturt's Depot Glen. The Glen, eroded in vertical silurian slate, is less
than a mile long. Poole rests by the creek where the gorge opens quite
abruptly on to a vast cretaceous plain. Photo by the Reverend J.M.
Curran.

Poole's Grave and Monument, near Depot Glen, Tibbuburra, New South Wales.
Photo by the Reverend J.M. Curran.

B. Herschel Babbage. Born 1815; died 1878.

John McDouall Stuart.

Robert O'Hara Burke. From a photograph in the possession of E.J. Welch,
of the Howitt Relief Expedition.

William John Wills. From a photograph in the possession of E.J. Welch, of
the Howitt Relief Expedition.

Scenes on Cooper's Creek (After Howitt).
1. Burke's Grave.
2. Where King was Found.
3. Grave of Wills.

John King. From a photo in the possession of E.J. Welch.

Edwin J. Welch, second in command of the Howitt Relief Expedition, and
the first man to find King.

Burke and Wills Monument Statue, Melbourne.

Major P.E. Warburton.

William Christie Gosse, Deputy Surveyor-General of South Australia.

Baron Sir Ferdinand von Mueller.

A Camel Caravan in an Australian Desert.

W.H. Tietkins, 1878.

Ernest Favenc.

John Septimus Roe, First Surveyor-General of West Australia.

Sir George Grey.

Rock Painting, North-Western Australia.

Augustus C. Gregory, 1880. Photo, Freeman, Sydney.

Frank T. Gregory.

Maitland Brown.

John Forrest in 1874.

Members of the Exploring Expedition, Geraldton to Adelaide, 1874.
Standing, left to right: Tommy Pierre, Tommy Windich, James Kennedy,
James Sweeny.
Seated, left to right: Alexander Forrest (Second in Command), John
Forrest (In Command).

Alexander Forrest.

W. Carr-Boyd and Camel. Photographed at Laverton, Western Australia,
October, 1906.

Sir Thomas Elder, G.C.M.G. Photo: Duryea, Adelaide.

David Lindsay.

L.A. Wells. Photo: Duryea, Adelaide.

David Wynford Carnegie.

Frank Hann. Explorer of the North-West, and discoverer of a stock route
between South Australia and Western Australia. Photo: Mathewson,
Brisbane.

Aboriginal Rock Painting on the Glenelg River. From a photograph by F.S.
Brockman.

Typical Australian Explorers of the early Twentieth Century.

Ernest Giles.


MAPS AND PLANS.

1. Routes of Blaxland, Wentworth, and Lawson (1813); Evans (1813); Oxley
(1817, 1818, 1823); and Sturt (1828 and 1829).

2. Routes of Hume and Hovell (1824); Sturt (1829 and 1830); and Mitchell
(1836).

3. Routes of Sturt (1829 and 1830); and Hume and Hovell (1824).

4. Routes of Leichhardt (1844 and 1845); Mitchell (1845 and 1846); and
Kennedy (1847 and 1848).

5. Routes of Eyre (1840 and 1841).

6. Basin of Lake Torrens, supposed extent and formation of.

7. Route of Sturt's Central Australian Expedition (1844 to 1846).

8. Routes of Stuart (1858 to 1862); and Burke and Wills (1860 and 1861).

9. Routes of Grey (1836, 1837 and 1839); Forrest (1869, 1870, 1874,
1879); and Giles (1873).

...


PART 1.


EASTERN AUSTRALIA.



CHAPTER 1. ORIGINS.


1.1. GOVERNOR PHILLIP.

Arthur Phillip, whose claim to be considered the first inland explorer of
the south-eastern portion of Australia rests upon his discovery of the
Hawkesbury River and a few short excursions to the northward of Port
Jackson, had but scant leisure to spare from his official duties for
extended geographical research. For all that, Phillip and a few of his
officers were sufficiently imbued with the spirit of discovery to find
opportunity to investigate a considerable area of country in the
immediate neighbourhood of the settlement, and, considering the fact that
all their explorations at the time had to be laboriously conducted on
foot, they did their work well.

The first excursion undertaken by Phillip was on the 2nd of March, 1788,
when he went to Broken Bay, whence, after a slight examination, he was
forced to return by the inclemency of the weather. On the 15th of April
he made another attempt to ascertain the character and features of the
unknown land that he had taken possession of. Landing on the shore of the
harbour, a short distance from the North Head, he started on a tour of
examination, and, in the course of his march, penetrated to a distance of
fifteen miles from the coast. At this point he caught sight of the
distant range that was destined to baffle for many years the western
progress of the early settlers. Phillip, on this his first glimpse of it,
christened the northern elevations the Caermarthen Hills, and the
southern elevations the Lansdowne; and a remarkable hill, destined to
become a well-known early landmark, he called Richmond Hill. In the brief
view he had of this range, there was suddenly born in Phillip's mind the
conviction that a large river must have its source therein, and that upon
the banks of such a river, the soil would be found more arable than about
the present settlement. He at once made up his mind to try and gain the
range on a different course.

A week later he landed at the head of the harbour and directed his march
straight inland, hoping to reach either the mountains, which he knew to
be there, or the river in whose existence he firmly believed.
Disappointment dogged his steps; on the first day a belt of dense scrub
forced his party to return and when, on the morrow, they avoided the
scrub by following up a small creek and got into more thinly timbered
country, their slow progress enabled them to accomplish only thirty miles
in five days. By that time, they were short of provisions; there was no
river visible, and the range still looked on them from afar. What cheered
them was the sight of some land that promised richly to reward the labour
of cultivation.

It was not until the 6th of June, 1789, that Phillip resumed his labours
in the field of exploration. The Sirius had then returned from the Cape
of Good Hope, and he could reckon on the assistance of his friend,
Captain Hunter, to re-investigate Broken Bay with the vessel's boats.
Accordingly, two boats were sent on to Broken Bay with provisions, where
they were joined by the Governor and his party, who had marched overland.
Besides Phillip, the party consisted of Captain Hunter and two of his
officers, Captain Collins, Captain Johnston, and Surgeon White.

For two days they were engaged in examining the many inlets and openings
of the Bay, and on the third, they chanced upon a branch that had before
escaped their notice. They proceeded to explore it, and found the river
of which Phillip had dreamed. The next day, renewed examination proved
that it was indeed a noble river, with steep banks and a depth of water
that promised well for navigation.

After their return to Sydney Cove, preparations were at once made to
follow up this important discovery. On the 28th of June, Phillip, again
accompanied by Hunter, left the Cove, having made much the same
arrangements as before. There was a slight misunderstanding with regard
to meeting the boat; but, after this was cleared away, the party soon
floated out on to the waters of the new-found river. They rowed up the
river until they reached the hill that Phillip, at a distance, had
christened Richmond Hill. On traversing a reach of the stream, the main
range, that as yet they had only dimly seen in the distance, suddenly
loomed ahead of them, frowning in rugged grandeur close upon them, as it
seemed. Struck with admiration and astonishment at this unexpected
revelation of the deep ravines and stern and gloomy gorges that scored
its front, over which hung a blue haze, Phillip, almost involuntarily,
named them on the moment; the Blue Mountains. Next morning the explorers
ascended Richmond Hill, from whose crest they looked across a deep,
wooded valley to the mountains still many miles away. After a hasty
examination of the country on the banks of the river, Phillip and his
band returned to the settlement, he having now realised his brightest
hopes and anticipations.

On the 11th of April, 1791, Phillip again started on an expedition, the
object of which was a closer inspection of the Blue Mountains. He was
accompanied this time by Captain Tench and Lieutenant Dawes; the latter,
in December, 1789, had been sent out with a small party to reach the foot
of the range, but had succeeded in approaching only within eleven miles
of the Mountains, whence he was forced to retire by the rugged and broken
nature of the country. On the present occasion, they reached the river
two days after leaving Rose Hill. They followed it for another two days,
but made no further discoveries, being greatly delayed by the constant
detours around the heads of small tributary creeks, too deep to cross in
the neighbourhood of the river.

This was the last exploring expedition undertaken by Governor Phillip.
Considering that his health was not robust, and that the work entailed
was of a specially arduous nature, his personal share in exploring the
country about the little settlement was noteworthy. It proved him to
possess both the foresight and the energy necessary in an explorer.

1.2. CAPTAIN TENCH.

In the month of June, 1789, Captain Watkin Tench, who, during his short
sojourn in the infant colony showed himself as zealous in exploration as
he was keen in his observations, started from the newly-formed redoubt at
Rose Hill, of which he was in command, on a short excursion to examine
the surrounding country. This trip, inspired by Tench's ardent love of
discovery, became a noteworthy one in the annals of New South Wales. It
was made during the month that witnessed the discovery of the Hawkesbury
River. On the second day after his party left Rose Hill, they found
themselves early in the morning on "the banks of a river, nearly as broad
as the Thames at Putney, and apparently of great depth, the current
running very slowly in a northerly direction."

This river, at first known as the Tench, was afterwards named the Nepean
by Phillip, when its identity as a tributary of the Hawkesbury had been
confirmed. Two other slight excursions were made by Tench in company with
Lieutenant Dawes, who was in charge of the Observatory, and ex-surgeon
Worgan. In May, 1791, Tench and Dawes started from Rose Hill and
confirmed the supposition that the Nepean was an affluent of the
Hawkesbury, a matter over which there had been some doubt since its first
discovery by Tench. Tench returned to England in H.M.S. Gorgon, in
December, 1791.

The names of Paterson, Johnson, Palmer, and Laing are also connected with
exploration on the upper Hawkesbury.

1.3. THE BLUE MOUNTAINS: BARALLIER.

The exploration of that portion of Australia which was accessible by the
scanty means of the early settlers was for many years impeded by the
stern barrier of the mountains, and most of their efforts in the
direction of discovery were aimed at surmounting the range that defied
their attacks. Among the many whose attempts were signalised only by
failure were the gallant Bass, whose name, for other reasons, will never
be forgotten by Australians, the quarrelsome and pragmatic Cayley, and
the adventurous Hack. Amongst them there was one, however, whose failure,
read by the light of modern knowledge, was probably a geographical
success. This was Francis Barallier, ensign in the New South Wales corps,
who was encouraged by Governor King to indulge his ardent longing for
discovery. By birth a Frenchman, Barallier had received his ensigncy by
commission on the 13th of February, 1801, having done duty as an ensign
since July, 1800, by virtue of a government general order issued by
Governor Hunter. In August, 1801, he had been appointed by Governor King
military engineer, in place of Captain Abbott resigned. In February,
1802, he was succeeded by Lieutenant George Bellasis, an artillery
officer. Besides his expeditions to the Blue Mountains, he did much
surveying with Lieutenant James Grant in the Lady Nelson. In 1804, he
went to England and saw service in several regiments, distinguishing
himself greatly in military engineering, amongst his works being the
erection of the Nelson Column in Trafalgar Square, the designer of which
was Mr. Railton. Barallier died in 1853.

Peron, the French naturalist, tells us that when in Sydney in October,
1802, he persuaded Governor King to fit out a party to attempt the
passage of the mountains, and that a young Frenchman, aide-de-camp to the
Governor, was intrusted with the leadership. He returned, however,
without having been able to penetrate further than his English
predecessors.

On the following month, however, Barallier set out from Parramatta, on
his famous embassy to the King of the Mountains. This fictitious embassy
arose from the fact that Colonel Paterson having refused Barallier the
required leave, King claimed him as his aide-de-camp, and sent him on
this embassy. Barallier started with four soldiers, five convicts, and a
waggon-load of provisions drawn by two bullocks. He crossed the Nepean
and established a depot at a place known as Nattai, whence the waggon was
sent back to Sydney for provisions, Barallier, with the remainder of his
men and a native, pushing out westwards. After this preliminary
examination he returned to the depot, and made a fresh departure on the
22nd of November, and, continuing mostly directly westwards, he reached a
point (according to his chart) about one hundred and five miles due west
from Lake Illawarra. If this position is even approximately correct, he
must have been at the very source of the Lachlan River.

I give a few extracts from his diary, which was not even translated until
the Historical Records of New South Wales were collected by Mr. F.M.
Bladen. They refer to the crossing of the range.

"On the 24th of November, I followed the range of elevated mountains,
where I saw several kangaroos. This country is covered with meadows and
small hills, where trees grow a great distance apart...I resumed my
journey, following various directions to avoid obstacles, and at 4
o'clock I arrived on the top of a hill where I discovered that the
direction of the chain of mountains extended itself north-westerly to a
distance which I estimated to be about thirty miles, and which turned
abruptly at right angles. It formed a barrier nearly north and south,
which it was necessary to climb over...At 7 o'clock I arrived on the
summit of another hill, from where I noticed three openings: the first on
the right towards North 50 West; the other in front of me, and which
appeared very large, was west from me; and the third was South 35 West.

...This discovery gave me great hope, and the whole of the party appeared
quite pleased, thinking that we had surmounted all difficulties, and that
we were going to enter a plain, the apparent immensity of which gave
every promise of our being able to penetrate far into the interior of the
country...At six o'clock I found myself at a distance of about two miles
from the western passage...I was then only half-a-mile from the passage,
and I sent on two men in order to discover it, instructing them to ascend
the mountain to the north of this passage...I waited till 7 o'clock for
my two men, who related to me, that after passing the range which was in
front of us we would enter an immense plain, that from the height where
they were on the mountain, they had caught sight of only a few hills
standing here and there on this plain, and that the country in front of
them had the appearance of a meadow...At daybreak I left with two men to
verify myself the configuration of the ground, and to ascertain whether
the passage of the Blue Mountains had really been effected. I climbed the
chain of mountains north of us. When I had reached the middle of this
height the view of a plain as vast as the eye could reach confirmed to me
the report of the previous day...I discovered towards the west and at a
distance which I estimated to be forty miles, a range of mountains higher
than those we had passed...From where I was, I could not detect any
obstacle to the passage right to the foot of those mountains...After
having cut a cross of St. Andrew on a tree to indicate the terminus of my
second journey, I returned by the same route I had come."

Barallier concludes his diary by mentioning another projected expedition
over the mountains from Jervis Bay. But no record of such a journey has
ever come to light.

[Illustration. Statue of Gregory Blaxland, Lands Office, Sydney.]

[Map. Routes of Blaxland, Wentworth, and Lawson (1813); Evans (1813);
Oxley (1817, 1818, 1823); and Sturt (1828 and 1829).]

1.4. THE BLUE MOUNTAINS: BLAXLAND.

Whether Barallier succeeded or not in reaching the summit of the
mountains, the verdict accepted at that date was that they had not been
passed; and until the year 1813, they were regarded as impenetrable. The
narrative of the crossing of these mountains, and the chain of events
that led up to the successful attempt is widely known, but only in a
general way. It is for this reason that a longer and more detailed
account is given in these pages; and as the expedition was successful in
opening up a way to the interior of the Continent, it is fitting that its
leader and originator, Gregory Blaxland, should be classed amongst the
makers of Australasia.

Blaxland was born in Kent, in 1771, and arrived in the colony in 1806,
accompanied by his wife and three children. He settled down to the
congenial occupation of stockbreeding, on what was then considered to be
a large scale. Finding that his stock did not thrive so well in the
immediate neighbourhood of the sea coast, and wanting more land for
pasturing his increasing herds, he made anxious enquiries in all
directions as to the possibility of crossing the Blue Mountains inland.
Nobody would entertain such a suggestion, the failures had been too many:
every one to whom he broached the subject declared it to be impossible,
prophesying that the extension of the settlement westward would forever
be obstructed by their unscalable heights. Blaxland, however, was not
intimidated by these disheartening predictions; and, in 1811, he started
out on a short journey of investigation, in company with three Europeans
and two natives. On this trip he found that by keeping on the crowning
ridge or dividing water-shed between the streams running into the Nepean
and those that fed what he then took to be an inland river, he got along
fairly well. Some time afterwards he accompanied the Governor in a boat
excursion up the Warragamba, a tributary of the Nepean, and though there
were no noteworthy results, it convinced Blaxland that, could he follow
his former tactics of adhering to the leading ridge that formed the
divide between the tributaries of the northern bank of this river and the
affluents of the Grose, a tributary of the Hawkesbury, he would attain
his object and reach the highlands. It will thus be seen that Blaxland
acted with a definite and well-thought-out mode of procedure; and that
the ridge he selected for the attempt was chosen with judgment based on
considerable knowledge of the locality, which he gained from many talks
with the men who hunted and frequented the foothills of the range.
Finally, when he had arranged his plan of assault, he confided his
intention to two friends, Lieutenant William Lawson and William Charles
Wentworth, whose names are associated with his in the conquest of the
Mountains. They both consented to accompany him, and agreed to follow his
idea of stubbornly following one leading spur. Blaxland's former
expedition had convinced him that the local knowledge of the natives did
not extend far enough to be of any service, and they therefore did not
take any aborigines with them. They took pack-horses, however, which
proves that the party started with a well-founded faith in their ultimate
success, and gave no heed to the terrifying descriptions of former
travellers.

The besetting hindrance to their progress was the low scrub of brushwood
that greatly delayed the pack-horses. This obstacle was overcome only by
patiently advancing before the horses every afternoon, and cutting a
bridle-track for the succeeding day's stage. Thus literally, the way that
ultimately led into the interior was won by foot, and the little
pioneering band eventually descended into open grazing country at the
head of what is now known as the Cox River. The outward and return trip
occupied less than one month's time; which speaks volumes for the wise
choice of route; but what says more, is the fact that no better natural,
upward pathway has since been found.

A synopsis of Blaxland's journal is given here, commencing with a few
quoted lines of preamble:--

"On Tuesday, May 11th, 1813, Mr. Gregory Blaxland, Mr. William Wentworth
and Lieutenant Lawson, attended by four servants, with five dogs and four
horses laden with provisions and other necessaries, left Mr. Blaxland's
farm at South Creek for the purpose of endeavouring to affect a passage
over the Blue Mountains, between the Western River* and the River
Grose...The distance travelled on this and subsequent days was computed
by time, the rate being estimated at about two miles per hour."

*[Footnote.] The Warragamba.

They camped at the foot of the ridge that was to witness the last
struggle between man and the Mountains. On the first day, they did three
miles and a half in a direction varying from south-west to
west-north-west, and that night obtained a little grass for the horses,
and some water in a rocky hole.

The heavy dews in the morning retarded any attempts at early departures,
as the thick wet brush rendered it difficult to drive the horses, so
that, as a rule, it was nine o'clock before they were able to strike
camp. The ridge, still favouring the direction of west and north-west, on
the third day they arrived at a tract of land, hilly, but with tolerable
grass on it. Here they found traces of a former white visitant in the
shape of a marked-tree line. Two miles from this point, they met with a
belt of brushwood so dense that for the first time they were forced to
alter their course; but the subordinate spurs on either side ending in
rocky precipices, they had to return and again confront the scrub. In
these circumstances, they made up their minds to rely upon axe and
tomahawk to win a way, and so next morning fell to work cutting a passage
for the horses. The ascent was also now becoming steep and rough, and on
this day some of the horses fell while struggling up with their loads.

The first day's work gained for them five miles, but at the end of their
toil they had to retrace their weary way back to the last night's camp.
The next day they cleared the track for only two miles further ahead; so
much time being wasted in walking backwards and forwards to the work.
There was no grass amongst the scrub that encompassed them, and when, on
Monday, they determined to move the camp equipage forward, they packed
the horses with as much cut-grass as they could put on them. This
amounted to, according to Lawson's diary, about two hundred pounds weight
for each horse, which, in addition to their ordinary loads, must have
been a very weighty packload for uphill work. However, according to
Blaxland, "they stood it well." They obtained no water for their animals
that night, and what they wanted for their own requirements had to be
painfully carried up a cliff about six hundred feet in height. On the
succeeding day they suddenly came on what at first appeared to be an
impassable barrier. The ridge which they had so pertinaciously followed,
had, for the last mile narrowed and dwindled down into a sharp
razor-backed spur, flanked with rugged and abrupt gullies on either
<DW72>. Across this narrow way now stretched a perpendicularly-sided mass
of rock, which seemed effectually to bar their path. The removal of a few
large boulders however, revealed an aperture which, after some labour,
they widened sufficiently to allow the pack-horses to squeeze through.

Once through they began to ascend what they estimated to be the second
tier of the Mountains. Shortly after they left camp that morning they
came on a pile of stones, or cairn, evidently the work of some European,
which they attributed to Bass. They were much elated at the thought that
they had now passed beyond the limit of any previous attempt.*

*[Footnote.] This cairn was afterwards named Cayley's Repulse by Governor
Macquarie: but recent research goes to show that Cayley followed the
valley of the Grose, and was many miles to the north of where the cairn
was found. According to Flinders, Bass was not on the high ridge
traversed by Blaxland and party.

They could now look round with triumph on the panorama spread beneath
their view, and from the superior elevation which they had obtained, they
took the bearings of several noticeable landmarks that they had seen
before only from the flat country. The labour of cutting a path each day
for the horses for the next day's march had, however, still to be
continued; but the crest of the ridge was again wider, though the gullies
on each side were as steep as before. That night, in camp, the dogs were
uneasy throughout the night, and several times gave tongue and aroused
the sleepers, tired with their day's work. From what they found
afterwards, they had good reason to believe that the blacks had been
lurking around meditating an attack.

They then passed over the locality known in the present day as
Blackheath, and soon afterwards had their course diverted to the
northward by what Blaxland terms "a stone wall rising perpendicularly out
of the side of the mountain." This they tried to descend, but without
success, and so kept on along its brow. Undergrowth still delayed them,
and they still had to spend their energies in hewing a passage, until on
the 28th of the month, they camped on the edge of the steep descent that
had lately marched beside them. The decline was, however, not quite so
abrupt, and the face no longer composed of solid rock. They paused to
overlook what lay before them and immediately below, and found the view
more gratifying than they had anticipated. What they had at first taken
for sandy barren soil proved now, on nearer inspection, to be forest-land
fairly covered with a good growth of grass. The horses not having tasted
fresh grass for some days, they cut a slanting trench across the sloping
face of the descent in order to afford the horses some sort of foot-hold,
and managed to get them down to a little feed that evening.

Next morning they were up and away early, and reached the foot of the
mountain (Mount York) at 9 a.m., having had to carry the pack-loads down
most of the way themselves, as it was too steep for laden horses to
preserve their balance with safety. The actual base of the mountain was
reached through a gap in the rocks, some thirty feet in width.

They now found themselves on what was then termed meadow land, drained by
the upper tributaries of the Warragamba; and this country presenting no
serious obstacle to their further progress, they rightly concluded that
they had now surmounted every difficulty. They followed the mountain
stream up for some distance and, at the furthest point they reached,
ascended a high sugar-loaf hill, which surveyor Evans, who followed in
their footsteps, called Mount Blaxland. From the summit they had an
extensive view all around, and Blaxland described the character of the
country they saw in the following words: "Forest and grass land,
sufficient to support the stock of the colony for the next thirty years."

Just here, let us compare this prophecy with a similar one made by Evans
a few months afterwards, on the pasture lands of the upper Macquarie:
"The increase of stock for some hundred years cannot overrun it."

The provisions of the explorers were now nearly expended; their apparel,
especially their footgear, was in rags and tatters; on the other hand,
the work that they had set themselves to do was well done. They had
vanquished the Blue Mountains. Their return was uneventful. After
breakfast on the 6th of June, they crossed the Nepean, their provisions,
with the exception of a little flour, being quite consumed. We thus see
how in the end the impenetrable range, that had so long overawed the
colonists with its frown, was overcome, with slight difficulty, when
local experience combined with method, was arrayed against it. To liken
the former expeditions to Blaxland's is to compare a few headlong
assaults with a well-conceived and skilfully worked-out attack. The men
themselves write slightingly of the feat. Blaxland says: "the passage of
the Blue Mountains might be easily effected." Lawson's opinion of the
mountain is: "that there would be no difficulty in making a good road";
and Wentworth's verdict is: "that the country they reached is easy of
access." Evans, who was hot upon their trail, gives as his opinion: "that
there are no hills on the ridge that their ascent or descent is in any
way difficult."

The tidings brought back by the party of successful pioneers created the
greatest excitement in the little colony. No longer would the mountainous
barrier stand defiantly in their western path. For over thirty years it
had laughed at their puny efforts to cross its rugged crest, but its time
had come at last; the way to the unknown west was now open, and
rejoicingly the settlers prepared to follow on the explorers' trail. What
the mysterious interior might hold, they could not imagine; but the gates
thereto being thrown wide at last, its secrets would be soon known to
them.

Blaxland died on the 3rd of January, 1853, having lived long enough to
witness the wonderful advance in settlement due to his energies.


CHAPTER 2. GEORGE WILLIAM EVANS.

[Illustration. George W. Evans, Discoverer of the Macquarie and Lachlan
Rivers.]


2.1. FIRST INLAND EXPLORATION.

George William Evans, Deputy-Surveyor of Lands, came forward at this
stage as the most prominent figure in Australian exploration. To him is
due the honour, without dispute or cavil, of being the first discoverer
of an Australian river flowing into the interior. For some reason he has
never received adequate recognition of his important explorations, and he
is well-nigh forgotten by the people of New South Wales, the state that
has benefited most by his labours. After Oxley's second expedition, his
name appears to have been overshadowed by his official superior's. Yet
his work was invariably successful, and his labour in the field
unremitting.

Evans was born in England, at Warwick, in 1778. When a young man he went
to the Cape of Good Hope, where he obtained an appointment in the
dockyard, and while there he married his first wife, Janet Melvill. In
1802 he was appointed Deputy Surveyor-General, and came to Australia in
H.M.S. Buffalo, in order to take up his official duties. It was while he
held this post that he carried out his work of exploration.

When he returned from these explorations, he resumed his duties as Deputy
Surveyor-General only, until he was permanently settled in Tasmania,
where he remained in office until the year 1825, when he resigned in
disgust at his treatment by his superiors.

Evans lived at a time when official jealousies were rife, and men in
position often heedless of the justice or veracity of their statements
when influenced by party rancour. The machinations of a cabal led by
Governor Arthur, and an effort made to deprive him of his well-deserved
pension, necessitated Evans's departure for England to defend his claims.
In this he was only partially successful, for the pension which it was
understood was for life, was stopped in 1832. He returned to Tasmania,
and passed the rest of his days at his residence, Warwick Lodge, at the
head of Newtown Bay. He died at the age of seventy-four, and is buried in
the old cemetery, Hobart; his second wife, Lucy Parris, rests in the same
grave.

Evans was a clever draughtsman, and some of his sketches of the country
explored are reproduced in Oxley's journal. He also published a book
entitled History and Description of the Present State of Van Diemen's
Land.

It was on Saturday, the 20th of November, 1813, that Evans, in charge of
five men, one of whom had been with Blaxland's party, started from the
point of forest land on the Nepean known as Emu Island. He lost no time
in following the tracks of the late expedition, leaving the measurement
until his return. On Friday, the 26th, he reached Blaxland's furthest
point, and thenceforward passed over new ground. It is somewhat amusing
to note that his opinions of the country when on his outward way and on
his homeward, are widely divergent. He candidly and ingenuously writes,
after he has been on the table-land:--

"What appeared to me fine country on my first coming to it, looks
miserable now after returning from so superior and good a country."

On Tuesday, the 30th of November, he gained a ridge that he had had in
view for some time, though he had been "bothered" by the hills in his
efforts to reach it. From this ridge he caught a tantalising view, a
glimpse of the outskirts of the vast interior.

There before him, the first white man to look upon the scene, lay the
open way to two thousand miles of fair pasture-lands and brooding
desert-wastes -- of limitless plains and boundless rolling downs -- of
open grassy forests and barren scrubs -- of solitary mountain peaks and
sluggish rivers; and, though then hidden from even the most brilliant
imagination, the wondrous potentialities latent in that silent and
untrodden region. If a vision of the future had been vouchsafed
Deputy-Surveyor Evans as he stood and gazed -- a vision of all that would
cover the spacious lands before and beyond him before one hundred years
had passed away -- the entry he made in his diary would surely have
reflected in its style his flight of imagination. Instead, we have the
prosaic statement:--

"I came to a very high mount, when I was much pleased with the sight
westward. I think I can see 40 miles which had the look of open country."

In a pleasant valley, he came upon a large "riverlett," and on its banks
they camped. There they shot ducks and caught "trout" -- as he called the
Murray Cod -- the first of the species to tickle the palate of a white
man; fine specimens, too, weighing five and six pounds. As he proceeded
further and further, he became enchanted with the scenery: "The
handsomest I have yet seen, with gently-rising hills and dales
well-watered" -- and he finally notes that language failed him to
describe it adequately.

Evans named the river that led him through this veritable land of promise
the Fish River, and a river which joined its waters with it from the
south he called the Campbell River. The united stream he christened, as
in duty bound, the Macquarie. Unimpeded in his course, he followed the
Macquarie until he was 98 1/2 measured miles -- for they had been
chaining since passing the limit of the first explorers -- from the
termination of Blaxland's journey. He then decided to return; for he had
gained all the information he had been sent to seek; and though game was
plentiful, his party were without shoes, and the horses were suffering
from sore backs.

Thus was concluded in a most satisfactory manner the first journey of
exploration into the interior. Evans constantly saw, during his progress,
unmistakeable traces of the natives; but he interviewed only a small
party of five. This representative band of the inland aborigines of
Australia was composed of two lubras and some picaninnies, both the women
being blind of the right eye.

The party reached the Nepean on their return journey on the 8th of
January, 1814. Mr. Cox was immediately intrusted with the superintendence
of the work of making a public road over the range, following closely the
same route as that taken by Blaxland's party. This work was completed in
the year 1815, and on the 26th of April of the same year, Governor
Macquarie and a large staff set out to visit the newly-found territory.
The Governor arrived at the recently-formed town of Bathurst on the 4th
of May; but before his arrival Evans had been again ordered out on
another exploring expedition to the south-west.

2.2. THE LACHLAN RIVER.

Evans started from Bathurst on the 13th of May, 1815. He commenced his
journey along the fine flat country then known as Queen Charlotte Vale,
maintaining a southerly course for a day or two; but finding himself
still amongst the tributaries of the Campbell River, he retraced his
steps some twelve or fourteen miles in order to avoid a row of rocky
hills. He then struck out more to the westward. On Thursday, the 23rd, he
came to a chain of ponds bearing nearly north-west, and from a commanding
ridge saw before him a prospect as gratifying as some of the scenes
viewed on his former trip.

"I never saw a more pleasing-looking country. I cannot express the
pleasure I feel in going forward. The hills we have passed are excellent
land, well-wooded. To the south, distant objects are obscured by high
hills, but in the south-west are very distant mountains, under them
appears a mist as tho' rising from a river. It was the like look round to
the west, but beyond the loom of high hills are very faintly
distinguished."

This was the first view Evans obtained of the Lachlan valley. The ponds
he had met with gradually grew into a connected stream: other ponds
united with them from the north-east, and he writes: "they have at the
end of the day almost the appearance of a river." On the 24th he came to
a creek which joined "the bed of a river rising in a North 30 East
direction, now dry except in hollow places. It is fully 70 feet wide,
having a pebbly bottom; on each side grow large swamp-oaks."

On Thursday, the 1st of June, this river holding a definite course to the
westward, and he being clear of the points of the hills, which hitherto
had hindered him greatly, he determined to return, as he was running
short of provisions.

"To-morrow I am necessitated to return, and shall ascend a very high hill
I left on my right hand this morning. I leave no mark here more than
cutting trees. On one situated in an angle of the river on a wet creek
bearing north I have deeply carved EVANS, 1st JUNE, 1815."*

*[Footnote.] This tree, a tall and sturdy gum, flourished for over ninety
years, and when in its prime was, unfortunately, owing to the spread of
agricultural settlement, inadvertently ring-barked and killed. It must
have been a fine tree when marked by the explorer, and though dead it is
still standing at the date of the publication of this book. In 1906, the
shield of wood bearing the inscription, was cut off by Mr. James Marsh,
of Marshdale, and is now preserved in the Australian Museum in Sydney,
New South Wales. It is the oldest marked-tree in the whole of
Australasia.

On the next morning Evans ascended the hill he alluded to, and from the
summit enjoyed a most extended view of the surrounding country, which he
compared to a view of the ocean. On his way back to Bathurst, he bestowed
upon the new river the name it now bears. A short passage in his diary,
written during his return, is of peculiar interest, as it contains the
first mention of snow seen in Australia by white men. On Thursday, the
8th of June, he writes:--

"The mountains I observed bearing north-west are covered with snow; I
thought on my way out that their tops looked rather white. To-day it was
distinguished as plain as ever I saw snow on the mountains in Van
Diemen's Land. I never felt colder weather than it has been some days
past. We have broken ice full two inches thick."

On the 12th of June the party returned to Bathurst, and Evans had by that
time accomplished two of the most momentous journeys ever made in
Australia. It was not his actual discoveries alone that brought him fame,
but the vast field for settlement these discoveries opened up. The
independent explorations of Surveyor Evans ceased after his discovery of
the Lachlan; thenceforward he served Australia as second to Lieutenant
Oxley.

2.3. THE UNKNOWN WEST.

The settlers of that day took every advantage of the new outlets for
their energies, thrown open to them by the recent successful
explorations. Cattle and sheep were rapidly driven forward on to the
highlands, and, favoured by a beautiful site, the town of Bathurst soon
assumed an orderly appearance. Private enterprise had also been at work
elsewhere. The pioneer settlers were making their way south; the tide of
settlement flowed over the intermediate lands to the Shoalhaven River;
and in the north they had commenced the irresistible march of
civilization up the Hunter River.

It was in the Shoalhaven district that young Hamilton Hume, the first
Australian-born explorer to make his mark in the field, gained his
bushcraft.

Governor Macquarie, during his term of office, did his best to foster
exploration; and it was fortunate that the first advance into the
interior occurred when there was a Governor in Australia who did not look
coldly upon geographical enterprise.

The men who entered first upon the task of solving the geographical
problems of the interior of the Australian continent were doomed to meet
with much bitter disappointment. The varying nature of the seasons caused
the different travellers to form contrary and perplexing ideas, often
with regard to the same tract of country. What appeared to one man a land
of pleasant gurgling brooks, flowing through rich pastures, appeared to
another as a pitiless desert, unfit for human foot to venture upon.
Oxley, who traversed what is now the cream of the agricultural portion of
the state of New South Wales, speaks of the main part of it in terms of
the bitterest condemnation. His error was of course rather a mistake in
judgment than the result of inaccurate observation.

Some of the colonists nursed far fonder hopes, and the general opinion
seemed to be that these western flowing rivers would gather in
tributaries, and having swollen to a size worthy of so great a continent,
seek the sea on the west coast. W.C. Wentworth, who certainly was capable
of forming an opinion deserving consideration, wrote thus of the then
untraced Macquarie River:--

"If the sanguine hopes to which the discovery of this river (the
Macquarie) has given birth should be realised, and it should be found to
empty itself into the ocean in the north-west coast, which is the only
part of this vast island that has not been accurately surveyed, in what
mighty conceptions of the future power and greatness of this colony may
we not reasonably indulge? The nearest point at which Mr. Oxley left off
to any part of the western coast is very little short of two thousand
miles. If this river therefore be already of the size of the Hawkesbury
at Windsor, which is not less than two hundred and fifty yards in
breadth, and of sufficient depth to float a seventy-four gun ship, it is
not difficult to imagine what must be its magnitude at its confluence
with the ocean, before it can arrive at which it has to traverse a
country nearly two thousand miles in extent. If it possesses the usual
sinuosities of rivers, its course to the sea cannot be less than from
five to six thousand miles, and the endless accession of tributary
streams which it must receive in its passage through so great an extent
of country will, without doubt, enable it to vie in point of magnitude
with any river in the world."

It was to realise such ambitious hopes as these that Oxley went forth to
penetrate into the interior.


CHAPTER 3. JOHN OXLEY.

[Illustration. John Oxley. From a portrait in the possession of Mrs.
Oxley, of Bowral. The portrait was presented to Mrs. King, widow of
Governor King in 1810, and signed by him.]


3.1. GENERAL BIOGRAPHY.

Oxley was born in England in the early part of 1781. In his youth he
entered the navy, saw active service in many parts of the world, and rose
to the rank of Lieutenant. He came to Australia in January, 1812, and was
appointed Surveyor-General.

Throughout his career in Australia, Oxley would seem to have won the
friendship and respect of all he came in contact with. Captain Charles
Sturt, in the journal of his first expedition, wrote of him as follows:--

"A reflection arose to my mind, on examining these decaying vestiges of a
former expedition, whether I should be more fortunate than the leader of
it, and how far I should be able to penetrate beyond the point which had
conquered his perseverance. Only a week before I left Sydney I had
followed Mr. Oxley to the tomb. A man of great quickness and of uncommon
ability. The task of following up his discoveries was no less enviable
than arduous."

These thoughts were suggested to Sturt when standing at one of Oxley's
old camps, and coming from such a man carry great weight.

The following obituary notice of Oxley appeared in the Government Gazette
of May 27th, 1828.

"It would be impossible for his Excellency, consistently with his
feelings, to announce the decease of the late Surveyor-General without
endeavouring to express the sense he entertains of Mr. Oxley's services,
though he cannot do justice to them.

"From the nature of this colony, the office of Surveyor-General is
amongst the most important under Government; and to perform its duties in
a manner Mr. Oxley has done for a long series of years is as honourable
to his zeal and abilities as it is painful for the Government to be
deprived of them.

"Mr. Oxley entered the public service at an early period of his life, and
has filled the important situation of Surveyor-General for the last
sixteen years.

"His exertions in the public service have been unwearied, as has been
proved by his several expeditions to explore the interior. The public
have reaped the benefit while it is to be apprehended that the event,
which they cannot fail to lament, has been accelerated by the privations
and fatigues of these arduous services. Mr. Oxley eminently assisted in
unfolding the advantages of this highly favoured colony from an early
stage of its existence, and his name will ever be associated with the
dawn of its advancement. It is always gratifying to the Government to
record its approbation of the services of meritorious public officers,
and in assigning to Mr. Oxley's name a distinguished place in that class
to which his devotion to the interests of the colony has so justly
entitled him, the Government would do honour to his memory in the same
degree as it feels the loss it has sustained in his death."

Oxley died at Kirkham, his private residence near Sydney, on the 25th of
May, 1828. Though his judgment was at times at fault, as will be seen
later on, he was essentially a successful explorer; for, although he did
not in every case achieve the object aimed at, he always brought back his
men without loss, and he opened up vast tracts of new country. John
Oxley's personality is not very familiar, but the portrait presented to
the reader in this volume was taken in the prime of his life, before he
suffered the scars of doubtful battle with the Australian wilderness. It
has never been published before, and is taken from the original miniature
that he presented to Mrs. King, widow of Governor King, in 1810.

3.2. HIS FIRST EXPEDITION.

On this, Oxley's first journey of exploration, Evans accompanied him as
second in command, and another man who has left an immortal name was also
with him -- Allan Cunningham, officially known as King's Botanist.
Charles Fraser, well-known in connection with the early history both of
New South Wales and of Western Australia, accompanied Oxley under the
title of Colonial Botanist. There were nine other men in the party --
boatmen, horse-tenders, and so forth; they had with them two boats and
fourteen pack and riding-horses. A depot was first formed at the junction
of the small creek whence Evans had turned back, and where he had marked
a tree with his initials in 1815. There the boats were launched and
preparations completed for the final start. On the 6th of April, 1817,
Oxley left Sydney and joined his party at the depot on the 1st of May.
Thence he soon commenced this most momentous journey in Australia's early
annals, eager to penetrate into the unknown, and inspired with hopes of
solving the mystery of the outlet of this inland river.

Disappointment marks the tone of Oxley's journal from the start; the
exceeding flatness of the country, the many ana-branches of the river,
the low altitude of its banks, and the absence of any large tributary
streams, above all, the dismal impression made by the monotony of the
surroundings, seem to have depressed Oxley's spirit. He appears to have
formed the idea that the interior tract he was approaching was nothing
more than a dead and stagnant marsh -- a huge dreary swamp, within whose
bounds the inland rivers lost their individuality and merged into a
lifeless morass. A more melancholy picture could not be imagined, and
with such an awesome thought constantly haunting his mind there is no
wonder that he became morbid, and that the dominant tone of his journal,
whilst on the Lachlan, is so hopelessly pessimistic.

"These flats," he says, "are certainly not adapted for cattle; the grass
is too swampy, and the bushes, swamps, and lagoons are too thickly
intermingled with the better portion to render it a safe or desirable
grazing country. The timber is universally bad and small; a few misshapen
gum trees on the immediate banks of the river may be considered an
exception."

The channel of the river now divided, and Oxley followed the channel on
the northern side, which they were skirting. But before they had
progressed a mile beyond the point of divergence, they reached the spot
where the river overflowed its banks and its course was lost in the
marshes. It was on the 12th of May that they received this check to their
as yet uninterrupted progress.

"Observing an eminence about half-a-mile from the south side, we crossed
over the horses and baggage at a place where the water was level with the
banks, and which, when within its usual channel, did not exceed thirty or
forty feet in width.

"We ascended the hill, and had the mortification to perceive that the
termination of our research was reached, at least down this branch of the
river. The whole country from the west, north-west, round to the north,
was either a complete marsh or lay under water."

The country to the south and south-west appearing more elevated. Oxley
determined to return to the place where the branches separated, and to
try his fortune on the other one. This, after a while, proved as
unsatisfactory as the one they had abandoned. Bitterly disappointed,
Oxley altered his plans entirely. He resolved to cease trying to follow
the river through this water-logged country, and determined to strike out
on a direct course to the south coast in the neighbourhood of Cape
Northumberland. In this way he hoped to cross any river that these dreary
marshes and swamps gave birth to, and that found an outlet into the
Southern Ocean, between Spencer's Gulf and Cape Otway.

This resolve was at once carried out. The boats were hauled up and
secured together; all unnecessary articles were abandoned to suit the
reduced means of transit; and at nine o'clock on May 18th they said
farewell to this weary river and started to encounter fresh troubles
under another guise. Instead of travelling in a superfluity of water they
now found themselves straitened by drought, and the work began to tell
upon the horses. Scrub, too, that besetting hindrance of so many
Australian explorers, began to impede their onward path. Eucalyptus brush
overrun with creepers and prickly acacia bushes united to bar the way,
and when, after much toil and suffering, they at last reached the point
of a range, which Oxley named the Peel Range, the leader had reluctantly
again to change his mind and to abandon the idea of making south-west to
the coast. Sick at heart of this sequence of disastrous happenings, he
confided his feeling of sorrow to his journal.

"June 4th. Weather as usual fine and clear, which is the greatest comfort
we enjoy in these deserts abandoned by every living creature capable of
getting out of them. I was obliged to send back to our former
halting-place for water, a distance of near eight miles; this is terrible
for the horses, who are in general extremely reduced; but two in
particular cannot, I think, endure this miserable existence much longer.

"At five o'clock two of the men whom I had sent to explore the country to
the south-west and see if any water could be found, returned after
proceeding six or seven miles; they found it impossible to go any farther
in that direction, or even south, from the thick bushes that intersected
their course on every side; and no water (nor in fact the least sign of
any) was discovered either by them or by those who were sent in search of
it nearer our little camp.

"June 5th. From everything I can see of the country to the south-west, it
appears, upon the most mature deliberation, highly imprudent to persevere
longer in that direction, as the consequences to the horses of want of
grass and water might be most serious; and we are well assured that
within forty miles on that point the country is the same as before passed
over...Our horses are unable to go more than eight or ten miles a day,
but even they must be assured of finding food of which in these deserts
the chances are against the existence."

On the following day, June 6th, Oxley, having changed his course to the
west and north-west, made another effort to escape from the surroundings
that so disheartened him. On the 4th of June, before leaving, Allan
Cunningham planted some acorns and peach and apricot stones in honour of
the King's birthday. Upon this episode Oxley remarks, that they would
serve to commemorate the day and situation, "should these desolate plains
be ever again visited by civilised man, of which, however, I think there
is very little probability." All this only shows how the lack of
experience of the paradoxical nature of the Australian interior induced
Oxley to form an absurdly erroneous idea of the country in its virgin
state. His observations read almost like a present-day description of the
sandy spinifex desert of the north-west of Western Australia, and, in
fact, the very same remark was made by Warburton in 1873, when traversing
that awful desert. He confessed his uncertainty about the longitude of
Joanna Spring, and says that it did not matter, as no white man would
ever come into the desert again in search of the oasis.

But Oxley's troubles were increasing, and on June 8th he wrote: "The
whole country in these directions, as far as the eye can reach, was one
continued thicket of eucalyptus scrub. It was impossible to proceed that
way, and our situation was too critical to admit of delay: it was
therefore resolved to return back to our last station on the 6th, under
Peel's Range, if for no other purpose than that of giving the horses
water."

Forced to return once more, Oxley became thoroughly convinced of the
inhabitability of the country, and it is no wonder that his condemnation
was so sweeping and hasty. He wrote on June the 21st:--

"The farther we proceed westerly, the more convinced I am that for all
the practical purposes of civilised man the interior of this country
westward of a certain meridian is uninhabitable, deprived as it is of
wood, water and grass."

Unfortunately for his fame, he then relinquished all thoughts and hopes
of a southward course; for had he pushed on, posterity would have hailed
his memory as the discoverer of the Murrumbidgee. But Fate decided
otherwise, and dejected and baffled, he turned to follow the Peel Range
north, making for the part he had left, where at least he was sure of a
supply of water. The expedition suddenly came upon the river again on the
23rd of June, and hoping to find that it had modified its nature, they
commenced to run it down again. The 7th of July they were forced to halt
once more, when Oxley gave up all idea of tracing the Lachlan. He began
his return journey, making this last desponding entry:--

"It is with infinite regret and pain that I was forced to come to the
conclusion that the interior of this vast country is a marsh and
uninhabitable...There is a dreary uniformity in the barren desolateness
of this country which wearies one more than I am able to express. One
tree, one soil, one water, and one description of bird, fish, or animal
prevails alike for ten miles and for one hundred. A variety of
wretchedness is at all times preferable to one unvarying cause of pain or
distress."

[Illustration. The Lachlan River at the point where Oxley left it on the
4th August, 1818, and struck North-East to gain the Macquarie River and
follow that river up to Bathurst. Photo by the Reverend J.M. Curran.]

On the 4th of August, the leader, knowing the repellant nature of the
river and its swamps and morasses that lay ahead of their returning
footsteps, determined to quit the Lachlan altogether, and steering a
northern course, to abandon the low country, reach the Macquarie River
and follow it up to the settlement at Bathurst.

The boats having been long since abandoned, it was necessary to build a
raft of pine-logs wherewith to transport the baggage over the stream.
They crossed in safety, and we can imagine that it was with no feelings
of regret that they finally lost sight of the stream that had so
persistently baffled them in all their attempts to traverse its banks.

For some days they had to struggle against the many obstacles of a new
and untrodden land, but they at last emerged on to the Macquarie country,
which made a pleasant and welcome contrast with the detested Lachlan.

It may be thought that too much stress has been laid upon Oxley's opinion
of the Lachlan, but it was this pessimistic report that dominated the
public mind for many years in its speculations as to the character of the
interior.

To Oxley himself, the first glimpse of the Macquarie came like a ray of
sunshine on his harassed feelings. Was he not to reap some reward for his
heroic efforts along the Lachlan, to enjoy the realisation of some of his
ambition as geographical discoverer? The Macquarie seemed a favourable
subject for the exercise of his talents. Would it not lead him westward
to the conquest of that mysterious inland country which had hitherto
guarded its secrets with an invincible obstinacy? Poor Oxley, who can
help rejoicing with him in his short-lived joy? Without knowing it, he
was the first of a long line of brave spirits who were doomed to lose
health and life in carving their way into the heart of Australia.

As they returned homeward up the bank of the Macquarie, the river seemed
to him to glitter with the bright promise of a crown of success. For
almost the first time the entry in his journal has a cheery ring of
hope:--

"Nothing can afford a stronger contrast than the two rivers -- Lachlan
and Macquarie -- different in their habits, their appearance, and the
source from which they derive their waters, but, above all, differing in
the country bordering on them; the one constantly receiving great
accession of water from four streams, and as liberally rendering fertile
a great extent of country, whilst the other, from its source to its
termination is constantly diffusing and diminishing the water it
originally receives over low and barren deserts, creating only wet flats
and uninhabitable morasses, and during its protracted and sinuous course
is never indebted to a single tributary stream."

3.3. THE LIVERPOOL PLAINS.

The disappointment occasioned by Oxley's return to Bathurst and his
failure to trace the course of the Lachlan was in part atoned for by the
high opinion he had formed of the Macquarie. A second expedition was
planned, and the command again offered to the Surveyor-General.

Evans was again second, and Dr. Harris, a very able man, accompanied the
party as a volunteer. Charles Fraser was botanist, but Allan Cunningham
did not go. The expedition was on a slightly larger scale, there being,
besides those already mentioned, twelve ordinary members, with eighteen
horses and provisions for twenty-four weeks. A depot was formed at
Wellington Valley, and men sent ahead to build two boats.

On June 6th, the start was made from the depot, and for the first 125
miles no obstacles nor impediments were met with. Elated by this, Oxley
sent two men back to Bathurst, in accordance with instructions, bearing a
favourable despatch to Governor Macquarie. But Fate was again deriding
the unfortunate explorer. No sooner had the two parties separated, one
with well-grounded hopes of their ultimate success, the other bearing
back tidings of these confident hopes, than doubt and distrust entered
into the mind of the leader. Twenty-four hours after the departure of the
messengers, Oxley wrote in his journal:--

"For four or five miles there was no material change in the general
appearance of the country from what it had been on the preceding days,
but for the last six miles the land was considerably lower, interspersed
with plains clear of timber and dry. On the banks it was still lower, and
in many places it was evident that the river-floods swept over them,
although this did not appear to be universally the case...These
unfavourable appearances threw a damp upon our hopes, and we feared that
our anticipations had been too sanguine."

And still, as Oxley went on, he found the country getting flatter and
more liable to inundation, until at last, with a heart nearly as low as
the country, he found himself almost hemmed in by water. In fact, it was
necessary to retrace steps in order to find a place where they could
encamp with safety. Upon this emergency, Oxley held a consultation with
Evans and Harris, and it was decided to send the baggage and horses back
to a small and safe elevation that stood some fifteen miles higher up the
river, thus making a subsidiary depot camp. Oxley himself, with four
volunteers in the largest of the two boats, would take a month's
provisions and follow the stream as long as there was enough water to
float their craft. Meanwhile, Evans, during Oxley's absence, was to make
an excursion to the north-east, and return by a more northerly route,
this being the direction the party intended to take, should the river
fail them as the Lachlan had done on the previous journey.

It was a wet and stormy day on which Oxley started on the river voyage.
For about twenty miles there was, as Oxley expresses it, "no country."
The main channels being in an overflow state, the flat country which
surrounded them could be recognised only by the timber growing on the
banks. The clear spaces whereon no trees grew were now covered with
reeds, which stood at the height of six or seven feet above the surface.
That night they took refuge on a piece of land which was so nearly
submerged that there was scarcely enough space on which to kindle a fire.
In the morning the violence of the storm had somewhat abated, and as soon
as the grey light was strong enough for them to recognise their way, they
resumed their dreary journey.

Oxley still contrived to keep to what he took to be the main channel,
although, as it now pursued its course amid a dense thicket of reeds, it
was becoming more difficult with every succeeding mile. Oxley's
seamanship, however, stood him in good stead, and although fallen logs
now began to obstruct their passage, they kept doggedly on for another
twenty miles. There was no diminution in the volume of the current that
was now bearing them onward, and Oxley felt confident that he was
approaching that hidden lake, wherein the inland waters mingled their
streams, and of whose existence he thought he had now every reason to
rest assured. Just as he was buoying his spirits up with these hopes,
dreaming that in future he would be able proudly to say,

We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea,

the river eluded all further pursuit by spreading out in every direction
amongst the ocean of reeds that surrounded them.

Wounded to the heart at this unlooked-for disappointment, Oxley, after
vainly seeking for some clue or indication by which he could continue the
search, had to 'bout ship and return to the camp of the night before. He
says:--

"There was no channel whatever amongst these reeds, and the depth varied
from five to three feet."

Although he was still convinced that the "long sought-for Australian Sea"
existed, he recognised the futility of continuing this search to the
westward, in which direction some malignant genius seemed ever to persist
in thwarting him; and so he regained the shelter of the depot at Mount
Harris, with another tale of frustrated hopes.

Evans, on his return from his scouting expedition to the north and
north-east, had a more cheerful story to tell. The weather had been wet
throughout, and the impassable nature of the country occasioned thereby
had hampered him greatly; nevertheless he had struggled across the worst
of the flat country, and in the north-east had come to a new river, which
he named the Castlereagh. He was absent ten days, and on his return Oxley
determined to abandon the Macquarie, which had proved even more deceptive
and elusive than the Lachlan, and to strike out for the higher lands
which Evans reported having seen.

He left Mount Harris on July 20th, first burying a bottle there
containing a written scheme of his intended movements, and some silver
coin. Ten years afterwards, Captain Sturt made an ineffectual search for
this bottle. Oxley had also buried a bottle at the point of his departure
from the Lachlan. Mitchell search for it without success, and learned
afterwards that it had been broken by the blacks.

On July 27th, the party reached the bank of the Castlereagh, after
fighting their way through bog, quagmire, and all the difficulties common
to virgin country during continued wet weather. As the direction they
were steering was towards a range seen by Evans, and named Arbuthnot
Range, their march was again interrupted by finding the new-found river
this time running bank-high, having evidently risen immediately after
Evans had crossed it on his return journey. Here, perforce, they had to
stay until the water subsided, and it was not until August 2nd that the
river had fallen enough to allow them to cross. The ground was still
soaked and boggy, and the horses having had to carry increased pack-loads
since the abandonment of the boats, the party suffered great toil and
hardship in their efforts to gain Arbuthnot Range. The Range was reached,
however, and rounding one end of it by skirting the base of a prominent
hill which they named Mount Exmouth, the harassed explorers at last
emerged upon splendid pastoral country.

As Oxley, from a commanding position, surveyed the magnificent scene
spread out beneath him -- gentle hills separating smiling valleys, which
in their turn merged into undulating plains all ripe for settlement -- he
must have felt that Fate had at length relented, and granted him a
measure of reward as the discoverer of this beautiful land. He called the
locality Liverpool Plains, and the name has long been synonymous with
pastoral prosperity. Their journey to the eastward, which carried them
through the heart of this rich and highly-favoured country, was now less
arduous; and though the ground was still wet from the late soaking rains,
the sun shone cheerily overhead, and the horses, revelling in the
abundant rich grass and succulent herbage, began to recover their
strength. On September 2nd, they came to a river, which Oxley named the
Peel; and here the expedition narrowly escaped the shadow of a fatality,
one man being nearly drowned whilst crossing. After leaving the Peel,
Oxley still continued easterly, traversing splendid open grazing country.
He was now approaching the dividing water-shed of the Main Range, to the
northward of that portion of it which is known at the present day as the
Liverpool Range. Here the deep glens and gullies with which the seaward
front is serrated, began to interfere seriously with the direct course of
travel, and at the heads of many of them there were cataracts and
waterfalls which compelled the wanderers to turn away to the south; and
on one occasion to revert almost to the west. One of these striking
natural features received the name of Becket's Cataract, and another was
christened Bathurst's Falls. Once again tempests and storms beset them,
and this wild weather found them wandering amongst the steep ravines and
dizzy descents of the mountainous range, seeking a way leading to the
lowlands.

It was on September 23rd that Oxley and Evans, while searching for a
practicable route, climbed a tall peak, and from the summit caught a
glimpse of the sea. It seems to have greatly impressed Oxley, and he
writes in his journal of his emotions on the occasion:--

"Bilboa's ecstacy at the first sight of the South Sea could not have been
greater than ours when, on gaining the summit of this mountain, we beheld
Old Ocean at our feet. It inspired us with new life; every difficulty
vanished, and in imagination we were already home."

The descent was attended with many perils: Oxley says that at one period
he would willingly have compromised for the loss of one-third of the
horses to ensure the safety of the remainder. But the men with him were
tried and steady, and the thick tufts of grass and the loose soil
afforded them help in securing a surer footing, of every chance of
availing themselves of which the men skilfully took advantage, so that
both men and horses reached the foot of the mountain -- now called Mount
Seaview -- without mishap.

They had reached the head of a river running into the Pacific, and
proceeded to follow its course down with more or less difficulty until
they reached the mouth, when Oxley, judging the entrance to be navigable,
named it Port Macquarie, though one should imagine that he had become
tired of that name. The river was named the Hastings.

On October 12th, a toilsome march commenced, following the shore to the
southward. The wearisome interruptions of the many inlets and saltwater
creeks greatly fatigued and distressed his men. But at last they came
upon a boat, half-buried in the sand, which had been lost some time
before from a Hawkesbury coaster. This they cleaned and patched, and
carried with them, utilising it during the latter stages of this weary
journey to facilitate the passage of the many saltwater creeks and
channels that impeded their progress. It is owing to the possession of
this derelict boat that Oxley crossed the mouth of the Manning without
identifying it as a river. The blacks now harassed them greatly, and it
was during one of the attacks made upon the party that one of the men,
named William Black, was dangerously wounded, being speared through the
back and the lower part of the body. The care and conveyance of this
invalided man was now added to Oxley's other anxieties, and it was with
feelings of great satisfaction that on November 1st they caught sight of
the rude buildings of Port Stephens. Through much hardship and privations
he had brought his party back without loss.

Oxley sent Evans on to Newcastle with despatches to the governor, in
which he alluded to his sanguine anticipations at the time he had sent in
his last report, and their almost immediate collapse. But the discovery
of Liverpool Plains compensated in some degree for the disappointment
caused by the renewed failure that had attended Oxley's efforts to trace
an inland river.

In the following year, 1819, the Lady Nelson, with the Surveyor-General
on board, visited the newly found Port Macquarie and the Hastings River,
to survey the entrance; in which task he was assisted by Lieutenant P.P.
King in the Mermaid. On his return to Port Jackson, in the same year, he
made a short excursion to Jarvis Bay with Surveyor Meehan, when they were
accompanied by the explorer who was to win fame as Hamilton Hume. Oxley
returned by boat, his companions overland.

3.4. THE BRISBANE RIVER.

It was in October, 1823, that Oxley left Sydney on the expedition that
resulted in the finding of the Brisbane River, and the foundation of the
settlement at Moreton Bay. He was despatched on a mission to examine
certain openings on the east coast, and report on the suitability of them
as sites for penal establishments. Moreton Bay, Port Curtis, and Port
Bowen were selected; and Oxley left in the colonial cutter Mermaid, with
Uniacke and Stirling as assistants.

As the cutter went up the coast, she called at Port Macquarie, and Oxley
had the pleasure of noting the rapid growth of the settlement that had
been built upon his recommendation. Further along the coast, Oxley
discovered and named the Tweed River. The Mermaid reached Port Curtis on
the 6th of November, and cast anchor for some time, during which Oxley
made a careful examination of the locality, his opinion of it as a site
for a settlement being decidedly unfavourable. He however discovered and
named the Boyne River.

It being considered too late in the season to proceed and examine Port
Bowen, the Mermaid went south again, and entering Moreton Bay, anchored
off the river that appeared to Flinders to take its source in the Glass
House Peaks, and which he had called the Pumice Stone River.

They had scarcely anchored when several natives were seen at a distance,
evidently attracted by their arrival, and on examining them with the
telescope, Uniacke was struck with the appearance of one of a much
lighter colour than that of his companions. The next day Oxley landed and
discovered that the man they had noticed was in reality a castaway white
man of the name of Pamphlet. He told a singular tale.

He had left Sydney in an open boat with three others, intending to go to
the Five Islands and bring back cedar. A terrible gale arose, and they
were blown out to sea and quite out of their reckoning, Pamphlet being
under the impression that they had come ashore south of Port Jackson.
They had suffered fearful hardships in the open boat, being at one time,
he averred, twenty-one days without water, during which time one man died
of thirst. The boat was at last cast up on an island in the bay (Moreton
Island) where they had joined the blacks, and lived amongst them ever
since, a matter of seven months. The other survivors were named Finnegan
and Parsons. Pamphlet informed Oxley that not long before the Mermaid
arrived, the three of them had started to try and reach Sydney overland,
but when they had got about fifty miles, he had turned back and the next
day had been rejoined by Finnegan, who stated that he had quarrelled with
Parsons. The latter was never heard of again.

Finnegan put in an appearance the next day, and Oxley naturally took the
opportunity to question them as to the knowledge they had gained of the
surrounding country during their enforced stay in it. On one important
point both of them were confident, and this was that, in the southern
portion of the bay, a large river was to be found which appeared
navigable, having a strong current.

Taking Finnegan with them, Oxley and Stirling started in the whaleboat
the following morning to verify this information. They found the river
and pulled up it about fifty miles. Oxley was greatly pleased with such a
discovery, and landing, ascended a hill which he named Termination Hill.
From the top he obtained a view over a wide extent of country, through
which he was able to trace the river for a long distance. Strangely
enough, the hasty glimpse he thus caught of a new and untrodden part of
Australia seemed to confirm his fixed belief in the final destination of
the Lachlan and the Macquarie as an inland sea.

"The nature of the country and a consideration of all the circumstances
connected with the appearances of the river, justify me in entertaining a
strong belief that the source of the river will not be found in
mountainous country, but rather that it flows from some lake, which will
prove to be the receptacle of those inland streams crossed by me during
an expedition of discovery in 1818."

Oxley named the river the Brisbane, and, taking aboard the two rescued
men, the Mermaid set sail for Port Jackson, where she arrived on December
13th. This ended the chapter of Oxley's discoveries in the field of
active exploration.


CHAPTER 4. HAMILTON HUME.

[Illustration. Hamilton Hume, in his later life.]

[Map. Hume and Hovell's Route 1824; Sturt's Route, 1829 and 1830; Major
Mitchell's Route 1836.]

4.1. EARLY ACHIEVEMENTS.

Hamilton Hume was the son of the Reverend Andrew Hume, who came to the
colony with his wife in the transport Lady Juliana, and held an
appointment in the Commissariat Department. Hamilton was born in
Parramatta in the year 1797, on the 18th of June. He seems to have been
specially marked out by Nature for prominence as an explorer, for, from
his earliest boyhood he was fond of rambling through the bush, and his
father encouraged him in his desire for a free country life and his love
of adventure. School facilities were lacking, but fortunately his mother
attended to his education and saw to it that he did not grow up destitute
of that instruction common to youth of those times and of his standing.

At the age of seventeen he made his initial effort at exploration in the
country around Berrima, in company with his brother Kennedy and a black
boy. They were successful in their endeavours, and found some good
pastoral country. In the following year, encouraged by their success, the
brothers made another excursion. In 1816, a Mr. Throsby bought some of
the land that young Kennedy and Hamilton had found; and their father sent
them out with him to show him the country he had purchased. John Oxley,
too, held a farm in the Illawarra district, and the Surveyor-General, who
must have heard of Hamilton's repute for good bushmanship, engaged him to
go out with his overseer and guide the men on to the locality. Governor
Macquarie also seems to have had his attention drawn to the same
conspicuous quality, for he sent young Hume out with Meehan, a surveyor,
and Throsby to examine the country about the Shoalhaven River. On the
way, however, Throsby disagreed with Meehan about the course they should
adopt, and, taking a black boy with him, left his companions and made the
best of his way to Port Jervis. Meehan and Hume carried out the work as
originally decided on, and then forced their way up the range, which had
now seemingly been deprived of a great many of its original terrors by
the hardy pioneers of the coast. On the highlands they discovered and
named Lake George, a freshwater lake, and a smaller one which they called
Lake Bathurst, both, strange to say, seemingly isolated.

Here we may remark on the tenacity with which the Murrumbidgee River long
eluded the eye of the white man. It is scarcely probable that Meehan and
Hume, who on this occasion were within comparatively easy reach of the
head waters, could have seen a new inland river at that time without
mentioning the fact, but there is no record traceable anywhere as to the
date of its discovery, or the name of its finder. When in 1823 Captain
Currie and Major Ovens were led along its bank on to the beautiful
Maneroo country by Joseph Wild, the stream was then familiar to the early
settlers and called the Morumbidgee. Even in 1821, when Hume found the
Yass Plains, almost on its bank, he makes no special mention of the
river. From all this we may deduce the extremely probable fact that the
position of the river was shown to some stockrider by a native, who also
confided the aboriginal name, and so it gradually worked the knowledge of
its identity into general belief. This theory is the more feasible as the
river has retained its native name. If a white man of any known position
had made the discovery, it would at once have received the name of some
person holding official sway. But this is altogether a purely
geographical digression.

It was while on this expedition that Hume found the Goulburn Plains. On
another occasion he went with Alexander Berry, a noted south-coast
pioneer, up the Shoalhaven River, and accompanied the party when they
landed and conducted different excursions. By the time he reached
manhood, Hume was justly classed amongst the finest bushmen in the
colony. In his after career when he led the famous expedition to the
south coast, and again, when as Sturt's right hand he accompanied that
explorer on the notable expedition that solved the mystery of the outflow
of the inland rivers and gave to settled Australia the mighty Darling, he
fully proved his right to the title.

4.2. DISCOVERY OF THE HUME OR MURRAY.

It is perhaps by his fame as leader of the party that crossed from Lake
George to the Southern Ocean that Hume's name is best remembered. At that
time especially it aroused anew the bright hopes for the future of the
interior that Oxley's gloomy prognostications had done so much to
depress. The Surveyor-General having been unable to determine the
question as to whether any large river entered the sea between Cape Otway
and Spencer's Gulf, a somewhat hazardous idea entered the head of the
then Governor, Sir Thomas Brisbane, to land a party of convicts near
Wilson's Promontory, and induce them by the offer of a free pardon and a
grant of land to find their way back to Sydney overland. It was further
proposed that an experienced bushman should be put in charge of them. The
flattering offer of this responsible, if somewhat precarious position,
was made to young Hamilton Hume who, on mature consideration declined it.

He offered, however, to conduct a party from Lake George to Western Port
if the Government would provide the necessary assistance. This offer the
authorities accepted, but they forgot the essential condition of
furnishing assistance. Naturally, much delay and vexation were caused by
this display of official ineptitude. At this juncture a retired coasting
skipper, Captain William Hilton Hovell, made an offer to join the party,
and find half the necessary cattle and horses. This offer aroused the
Government to some sense of its responsibility, and it agreed to do
something in the matter. This "something" amounted to six pack-saddles
and gear, one tent of Parramatta cloth, two tarpaulins, a suit of slop
clothes a-piece for the men, and an order to Hume to select 1,200 acres
of land for himself. In addition, the Government generously granted the
explorers two skeleton charts upon which to trace the route of their
journey, some bush utensils, and promised a cash payment for the hire of
the cattle should an important discovery be made. This cash payment was
refused on their return, although one would have thought that the
discovery of the Hume (Murray) should surely take rank as an important
discovery. Hume also stated that he had much difficulty in obtaining
tickets-of-leave for the men, and the confirmation of his own order to
select land for himself.

Each of the leaders brought with him three men, so that the strength of
the party was eight all told. Their outfit of animals consisted of five
bullocks and three horses, and they had two carts with them.

Hovell was born at Yarmouth on the 26th of April, 1786. He arrived in
Sydney in 1813, but after being engaged in the coasting trade with
occasional trips to New Zealand, he had relinquished his career as a
sailor and had settled at Narellan, New South Wales. After his exploring
expedition with Hume, he settled down at Goulburn, and he died at Sydney
in 1876.

On the 14th of October, 1824, Hume and Hovell left Lake George. Reaching
the Murrumbidgee, they found that river flooded, and after waiting three
days for the water to fall, they crossed it borne on the body of one of
their carts, with the wheels detached, and with the aid of the tarpaulin,
rigged like a punt. South of the Murrumbidgee the country was broken and
difficult to traverse, but it was well grassed and admirably adapted for
grazing purposes. As it became too rough for the passage of their carts,
these were abandoned, and the baggage and rations were packed on the
bullocks for the remainder of their journey.

After following the course of the Murrumbidgee for some days, the
travellers turned from its bank and pursued a south-westerly direction,
which led them through hills and valleys richly grassed and plenteously
endowed with running streams. On the 8th of November they beheld a sight
rarely witnessed before by white men in Australia. Ascending a range in
order to obtain a view of the country ahead of them, they suddenly found
themselves confronted with snow-capped mountains. There, under the
brilliant sun of an Australian summer's day, rose the white crests of
lofty peaks that might have found fitting surroundings amidst the
chilling splendours of some far southern clime, robed as they were for
nearly one-fourth of their height in glistening snow.

Skirting this range, which received the name of the Australian Alps, the
explorers, after wandering for eight days across its many spurs, came
upon a fine, flowing river, which Hume named after his father, the Hume.
This river was destined to be re-named the Murray, when its course was
eventually followed to the ocean.*

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 6.

There being no safe ford, a makeshift boat was constructed with the aid
of the serviceable tarpaulin, and the Hume was crossed, close to the site
of the present town of Albury. Still passing through good pastoral land,
watered by numerous creeks, they crossed a river which was named the
Ovens, and on the 3rd of December they came to another, named by them the
Hovell, but now called the Goulburn; and on the 16th of December they
reached their goal, the shore of the Southern Ocean, at the spot where
Geelong now stands.

This expedition had a great and immediate influence on the extension of
Australian settlement. Within a few years after the chief surveyor had
characterised the western interior, beyond a certain limit, as unfitted
for human habitation, and had expressed his opinion that the monotonous
flats across which he vainly looked for any elevation extended to the
sea-coast, snowy mountains, feeding the head tributaries of perennial
rivers had been discovered to the southward of his track.

Hume was exceptionally fitted for the work of exploration at this
particular juncture in colonial history. Born and reared in the land, he
was well competent to judge justly of its merits and demerits; his
opinion was not likely to be tainted by the prejudices formed and
nourished in other and different climes. The history of Australian
exploration was then a statement of hasty conclusions, formed perhaps
under certain climatic circumstances to be falsified on a subsequent
visit when the conditions were radically different. In Hume's case, there
was no ill-founded conclusion of the availability of the
freshly-discovered district. The journey just recorded at once added to
the British Colonial Empire millions of acres of arable land watered by
never-failing rivers, with a climate and altitude calculated to foster
the growth of almost every species of temperate fruit or grain.

It is to be regretted that the narration of an expedition fraught with so
much benefit to the young colony, and executed with so much courage,
endurance, and facility of resource should be marred by any discordant
note. But friendly and genial relations were endangered by the presence
of two independent leaders. Divided authority here, as it nearly always
does, caused petty and undignified squabbles, which were in later days
elaborated into unseemly paper conflict. It is painful if somewhat
amusing to read of the acrid disputes as to the course, under the very
shadow of the majestic Australian Alps whose solitude had only then been
first disturbed by white men; and how, on agreeing to separate and divide
the outfit, it was proposed to cut the only tent in two, and how the one
frying-pan was broken by both men pulling at it. Thomas Boyd, who was the
only survivor of the party in 1883, and was then eighty-six years old,
signed a document assigning to Hume the full credit of conducting the
expedition to safety. Boyd was one of the most active members of the
expedition, always to the front when there was any trying work to be
done. He was the first white man to cross the Hume River, swimming over
with the end of a line in his teeth.

After Hume's return he lived for some time quietly on his farm, until the
call of the wild drew him forth from his retirement to join Sturt in his
first battle with the wilderness. His temporary association with that
explorer will find its due place in the account of that expedition.* He
died at Yass, near the scene of one of his early exploits.

*[Footnote.] See Charles Sturt. 6.2. The Darling.



CHAPTER 5. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.

[Illustration. Allan Cunningham.]


5.1. COASTAL EXPEDITIONS.

Allan Cunningham, the great botanical explorer of Australia, was born at
Wimbledon, near London, in 1791. He received a good education, his father
intending him for the law; but he preferred gardening, and obtained a
position under Mr. Aiton, at Kew. In 1814 he went to Brazil, where he
made large collections of dried specimens, living plants, and seeds. Here
he remained two years, collecting in the vicinity of Rio, the Organ
Mountains, San Paolo, and other parts of Brazil. Sir Joseph Banks wrote
that his collections, especially of orchids, bromeliads, and bulbs, "did
credit to the expedition and honour to the Royal Gardens." He was
nominated for service in New South Wales, and landed at Port Jackson on
the 21st of December, 1816.* He first started collecting about the
present suburb of Woolloomooloo in Sydney, which we may infer therefrom
presented a very different appearance from that which it now presents. He
next went with Oxley on his Lachlan expedition. On his return, he
commenced the first of his five coastal voyages, in which he accompanied
Captain P.P. King around most of the continent of Australia. In the tiny
cutter the Mermaid, of 84 tons, they left Port Jackson on the 22nd of
December, 1817, and sailed round the south coast of Australia to King
George's Sound, the west coast, the north coast, and finally to Timor.
The Mermaid returned by the same route and anchored in Port Jackson on
the 24th of July, 1818. Again on the 24th of December, the Mermaid left
Port Jackson on a short trip to Tasmania, from which they returned in
February, 1819. Once more the busy little Mermaid sailed from Sydney on
the 8th of May, 1819, to make a running survey of the east coast. On this
voyage, many ports hitherto unvisited were examined by King, and amongst
other places, Cunningham paid his first visit to the Endeavour River.
Continuing the survey, she rounded Cape York, crossed the mouth of the
Carpentaria Gulf, and kept along the north coast, where King found
Cambridge Gulf. At Cassini Island, the Mermaid left for Timor, and
eventually returned to Sydney round the west coast of Australia.

*[Footnote.] For the accompanying notes of Allan Cunningham's earlier
lifework I am indebted to the Biographical Notes concerning Allan
Cunningham, compiled by Mr. J.H. Maiden, Director of the Sydney Botanical
Gardens.

On the 14th of June, 1820, the Mermaid was again busy with King and
Cunningham on board, and, sailing up the east coast she re-visited the
Endeavour River. During their stay, Cunningham ascended Mount Cook, where
he made a fine collection of seeds and plants. She coasted north again
and picked up the survey at Cassini Island once more. At Careening Bay,
where they had occasion to stay for some time, Cunningham was again very
fortunate in his collections. Returning homeward by way of the west and
south coasts, the little cutter was almost wrecked off Botany Bay.

The Mermaid was now overhauled and condemned, and in her place H.M.
Storeship Dromedary, re-christened the Bathurst, was placed under the
command of Lieutenant King. This was Cunningham's fifth voyage as
collector with the same commander -- a very clear proof of their
compatibility of tastes and temperament. As before, the Bathurst ran
round the east coast and resumed her work on the north-west of Australia.
While thus engaged she was found to be in a dangerous condition, and went
to Port Louis to refit. They sailed from Mauritius on the 15th of
November, and reached King George's Sound on the 24th of December. Here
Cunningham found that the garden he had been at great pains to form
during his visit in 1818 had disappeared altogether. The Bathurst stayed
some weeks on the south-west coast, and then shaped a course to Port
Jackson, where they arrived on the 25th of April, 1822. Of the botany of
these coastal surveys Cunningham published a sketch entitled A Few
General Remarks on the Vegetation of Certain Coasts of Terra Australis,
and more especially of its North-Western Shore.

5.2. PANDORA'S PASS.

Let us now turn to his record as an inland explorer of Australia.

On the 31st of March, 1823, Allan Cunningham left Bathurst with two
objects in view. One was his favourite pursuit of botany; and the other
the discovery of an available route to Oxley's Liverpool Plains, through
the range that bounded it on the south; a route which Lawson and Scott
had vainly sought for the preceding year. On reaching the vicinity of the
range, he searched in vain to the eastward for any opening that would
enable him to pierce the barrier. He then retraced his steps, and,
exploring more to the eastward, he came upon a pass through a low part of
the mountain belt which he considered practicable and easy. The valley
leading to the pass he named Hawkesbury Vale, and the pass itself
Pandora's Pass, inasmuch as, in spite of the hardships the party had been
put to, they had still hoped to find it. Here Cunningham left a parchment
document, stating that the information thereon contained was for the
first farmer "who may venture to advance as far to the northward as this
vale." The finding of the bottle which contained this scroll has never
been recorded. Bathurst was reached on their return journey, on June
27th.

In March, 1824, he botanised about the heads of the Murrumbidgee and the
Monaro and Shoalhaven Gullies, and in September of the same year, went
north by sea with Oxley to Moreton Bay, to investigate that locality and
pronounce on its suitability as a settlement site. In March, 1825, he
left Parramatta, threaded the Pandora Pass once more, and ascended to
Liverpool Plains, returning to Parramatta on the 17th of June. In 1826
and the beginning of the following year, he visited New Zealand.

5.3. THE DARLING DOWNS.

It was in the year 1827 that Cunningham accomplished his most notable
journey of exploration, one which eventually threw open to settlement an
entirely new area of country; country destined to mould the destiny of
the yet unborn colony of Queensland, and afford homes for thousands of
settlers. It was mainly by his exertions that the young community at
Moreton Bay was able to stretch its growing limbs to the westward
immediately after its birth, instead of waiting long weary years and
wasting its strength against an impassable obstacle as had been the fate
of the settlement at Farm Cove.

Cunningham started from Segenhoe, a station on one of the head
tributaries of the Hunter River, whence he ascended the main range
without any difficulty beyond having to unload some of the pack-horses
during the steepest part of the ascent. He had with him six men, eleven
horses, and provisions for fourteen weeks. He left civilisation, or the
outskirts of it, on the 2nd of May, and on the 11th he crossed the
parallel on which Oxley had crossed the Peel River in 1818, and once
beyond that point he was traversing unexplored country. The land was
suffering under a prolonged drought in that district, and most of the
streams encountered had but detached pools of water in their beds, at one
of which, however, his party caught a good haul of cod, which were such
ravenous biters and so heavy that several were lost in the attempt to
land them.

Travelling through open forest land, which was suffering more or less
from the want of rain, Cunningham came on the 19th of May to a valley.
Here, on the bank of a creek he encamped on "the most luxuriant pasture
we had met since we had left the Hunter."

"We were not a little surprised," he says, "to observe at this valley, so
remote from any farming establishment, the traces of horned cattle, only
two or three days old, as also the spots on which about eight to a dozen
of these animals had reposed.

"From what point of the country these cattle had originally strayed
appeared at first difficult to determine. On consideration, however, it
was thought by no means impossible that they were stragglers from the
large wild herds that are well-known to be occupying plains around
Arbuthnot Range."

This speaks volumes for the wonderful increase and spread of wild cattle
in those days; Arbuthnot Range, first sighted by Evans in 1817, being
already an acknowledged resort of wild cattle in seven years. Or it
advertises the negligence of the stockmen who guarded the comparatively
tiny herds of the period.

The dry weather had put its mark upon the country. Though the degree of
aridity was much less than that afterwards experienced in Australia by
the explorers of its interior, nevertheless conditions were sufficiently
dry to compel the leader to exercise great forethought, and Cunningham
determined to pursue a more easterly course, keeping nearer the crest of
the range, where he was more likely to find grass and water. The country
he passed through was inferior, but on the 28th he came to the bank of a
river "presenting a handsome reach, half-a-mile in length, thirty yards
wide, and evidently very deep." This river he named the Dumaresque, and
it led him to the northward, through what he considered poor land, until
the new-found river took an easterly direction, when the party left it,
still keeping north. At the end of the month, after passing through much
scrubby country, they were agreeably surprised to meet with a stream, the
banks of which presented an appearance of great verdure. "It was a
subject of great astonishment to us to meet with so beautiful a sward of
grass permanently watered by an active stream, after traversing that
tract of desert forest, and penetrating brushes the extremes of sterility
in its immediate vicinity."

This was named McIntyre's Brook, and Cunningham writes that they had some
difficulty in fording it on account of its extreme rapidity. The party
continued on, now in a north-easterly direction, passing again through
dense thickets such as they had formerly met with.

On the 5th of June, Cunningham, from a small elevation, had a view of
open country of decidedly favourable appearance: "A hollow in the forest
ridge immediately before us allowed me distinctly to perceive that at a
distance of eight or nine miles, open plains or downs of great extent
appeared to extend easterly to the base of a lofty range of mountains,
lying south and north, distant by estimation about thirty miles."

This was Cunningham's first glimpse of the now world-famous Darling
Downs. On reaching the commencement of the great plains, they came to the
"bank of a small river, about fifteen yards in breadth, having a brisk
current to the North-West." As there was deep water in the pools of this
river, the men anticipated some good fishing, and they were not
disappointed. Cunningham named this river the Condamine.

Although their provisions were failing them, Cunningham remained for some
time on the site of his new discovery, fully impressed with the certainty
of its immense importance in the future settlement of Australia. Peel's
Plains and Canning Downs were named by him, and to the north-west "beyond
Peel's Plains an immeasurable extent of flat country met the eye, on
which not the slightest eminence could be observed to interrupt the
common level, which, in consequence of the very clear state of the
atmosphere, could be discerned to a very distant blue line of horizon."

Cunningham's far-seeing mind fathomed the future requirements of such a
vast agricultural and pastoral extent of country, and he at once turned
his attention to its natural means of communication with its obvious
port, Moreton Bay. A lofty range of mountains to the east and north-east
seemed to offer a difficult barrier, and he determined upon making a
closer inspection. As his horses were recruiting all the time on the
luxuriant herbage, he did not so much regret their own scarcity of
rations. Finding a beautiful grassy valley which he named Logan Vale,
after Captain Logan, the well-known commandant of Moreton Bay, leading to
the base of the principal range, he proceeded to make a nearer
inspection. After much climbing of successive tiers or ridges, he gained
the loftiest point of a main spur, and through some gaps in the main
range itself, he was able to overlook portions of the country in the
vicinity of Moreton Bay, and even to recognise the cone of Mount Warning.
He took particular notice of one gap, and on closer inspection he came to
the conclusion that a line of road could be constructed without much
difficulty.

Having spent a week on the Downs, and his shortness of provisions and the
weakness of his horses preventing any excursion to the western interior,
as his intention had been, he set out on his homeward journey on the 18th
of June. In order to render his chart of the country traversed as
complete as possible, he kept a course about equidistant between the
route of his outward journey and the coastal watershed. He reached
Segenhoe on the 28th of July, bringing his men and horses back in safety,
after one of the most successful and important expeditions on the east
coast.

[Illustration. Memorial to Allan Cunningham, Botanical Gardens, Sydney.]

In the following year, accompanied by his old companion Fraser, who had
been one of Oxley's party on his two inland expeditions, Cunningham
proceeded by sea to Moreton Bay, with the intention of starting from the
settlement, identifying the gap he had taken particular notice of, and
connecting with his former camp on the Downs. In this attempt he was also
accompanied by Captain Logan, but they were unsuccessful. Then Cunningham
again went from the outpost of Limestone, with three men and two
bullocks, and was completely satisfied. A road through this gap on to the
Darling Downs was immediately constructed, and used until the
introduction of railway communication: the opening was known far and wide
as Cunningham's Gap.

In May, 1830, Cunningham went to Norfolk Island. While there he crossed
to the little islet adjoining, known as Phillip Island. Having landed
with three men, he sent the boat back. That night eleven convicts
escaped, seized the boat, and were launching her when they were
challenged by a sentry. One of them replied that they were going for Mr.
Cunningham, and they got away though they were fired upon. They did go
for Mr. Cunningham, and robbed him of his chronometer, pistols, tent, and
provisions. Then they sailed away, and were picked up by a whaler, which
they seized and finally scuttled. The Government refused to compensate
Cunningham for his loss, and he had to replace the instruments himself.

Cunningham left Sydney on the 25th of February, 1831, on a visit to
London, where he spent nearly two years at Kew, returning to Sydney on
the 12th of February, 1837. He was appointed Colonial Botanist and
Superintendent of the Botanic Gardens, but did not retain the position
very long, being disgusted to find that supplying Government officials
with vegetables was to be a chief part of his duties. He resigned, and
after another visit to New Zealand, whence he returned in 1838, so ill
was he that he was compelled to decline to accompany Captain Wickham on
his survey of the north-west coast. He died of consumption on the 24th of
January, 1839, at the cottage in the Botanic Gardens, whither he had been
removed for change of air and scene. He was buried in the Devonshire
Street cemetery, and on the 25th of May, 1901, his remains were removed
to the obelisk in the Botanic Gardens.



CHAPTER 6. CHARLES STURT.


6.1. EARLY LIFE.

Charles Sturt was born in India at Chunar-Ghur, on April the 28th, 1795.
His father, Thomas Lennox Napier Sturt, was a puisne Judge in Bengal
under the East India Company; his mother was Jeanette Wilson. The Sturts
were an old Dorsetshire family. In 1799, Charles, as was common with most
Anglo-Indian children, was sent home to England, to the care of his
aunts, Mrs. Wood and Miss Wilson, at Newton Hall, Middlewich. He went
first to a private school at Astbury, and in 1810 was sent to Harrow. On
the 9th of September, 1813, he was gazetted as Ensign in the 39th
Regiment of Foot. He served with his regiment in the Pyrenees, and in a
desultory campaign in Canada. When Napoleon escaped from Elba, the 39th
returned to Europe, but all too late to join in the victory of Waterloo,
and it was stationed with the Army of Occupation in the north of France.
In 1818, the regiment was sent to Ireland. Here for several years Sturt
remained in most uncongenial surroundings, watching smugglers, seizing
illicit stills, and assisting to quell a rising of the Whiteboys. It was
in Ireland that the devoted John Harris, his soldier-servant, who was
afterwards the companion of his Australian wanderings, was first attached
to him. In 1823, Sturt was gazetted Lieutenant, and his promotion to
Captain followed in 1825.

In December, 1826, he sailed for New South Wales with a detachment of his
regiment, in charge of convicts. The moment he set foot on this vast
unknown land, its chief geographical enigma at once occupied his
attention. Sir Ralph Darling, to whom he acted for some time as private
secretary, formed a high opinion of his tact and ability, and appointed
him Major of Brigade and Military Secretary.

6.2. THE DARLING.

As soon as an expedition inland was mooted, Sturt volunteered for the
leadership, and was recommended by Oxley, who was then on his deathbed.
The recommendation was adopted by Governor Darling, and Sturt embarked on
the career of exploration that was to render his name immortal.

It was ever Sturt's misfortune to be the sport of the seasons; drought
and its attendant desolation dogged his footsteps like an evil genius.
Oxley had followed, or attempted to follow, the rivers down when a long
period of recurrent wet seasons had saturated the soil, filled the swamps
and marshes, and swollen the river-courses so that they appeared to be
navigable throughout for boats. Sturt came at a period when the country
lay faint under a prolonged drought and the rivers had dwindled down into
dry channels, with here and there a parched and meagre water-hole. The
following description of his is too often quoted as depicting the usual
state of the Australian interior:--

"In the creeks, weeds had grown and withered, and grown again; and young
saplings were now rising in their beds, nourished by the moisture that
still remained; but the large forest trees were drooping, and many were
dead. The emus with outstretched necks, gasping for breath, search the
channels of the rivers for water in vain; and the native dog, so thin
that he could hardly walk, seemed to implore some merciful hand to
despatch him."

[Map. Sturt's Route. Hume and Hovell's Route 1824.]

To Sturt and his companions, who were the first white men to face the
interior during a season of drought, the scene may not have seemed too
highly-; but, in common with many of Sturt's graphic
word-pictures, his description applies only to special or rare
circumstances.

In 1828, no rain had fallen for two years, and even the dwellers on the
coastal lands began to despair of copious rainfalls. Whenever their
glance wandered over their own dried-up pastures, men's thoughts
naturally turned to that widespread and boundless swamp wherein the
Macquarie was lost to Oxley's quest; and many saw in the drought a
favourable opportunity to discover the ultimate destination of these lost
rivers. An expedition to the west was accordingly prepared in order to
solve the problem under these very different existing circumstances, and
Sturt was selected as leader. To Hamilton Hume was offered the position
of second in command, and, as the dry weather had brought all farming
operations to a standstill, he was able to accept it. Besides Sturt and
Hume, the party consisted of two soldiers and eight prisoners, two of the
latter being taken to return with despatches as soon as they had reached
the limit of the known country. They also had with them eight riding and
seven pack-horses, and two draught and eight pack-bullocks. A small boat
rigged up on a wheeled carriage was also taken; but like many others
carried into the interior, it never served any useful purpose.

The country was by this time well-known, and partly settled up to and
below Wellington Vale; but when Sturt reached Mount Harris, Oxley's
former depot camp, he had come to the verge of the unknown, and halted in
order to consider as to his immediate movements. He consulted with Hume,
and as there seemed to be no present obstacle to their progress, it was
determined, as Sturt writes, "to close with the marshes."

This they did much sooner than was expected, for at the end of the first
day's march their camp was set in the very midst of the reeds. A halt for
a couple of days was made, whilst Sturt prepared his despatches to the
Governor. On the 26th, the two messengers were sent off to Bathurst, and
the progress of the party was resumed. Before the day closed, they found
themselves on a dreary expanse of flats and of desolate reed beds. The
progress of the main body was thus suddenly and completely checked, and
Sturt decided to launch the boat and with two men endeavour to trace the
course of the river, while Hume and two others endeavoured to find an
opening to the northward.

The boat voyage soon terminated, for Sturt was as completely baffled as
Oxley had been. The channel ceased altogether, and the boat quietly
grounded. Sturt could do nothing but return to camp and await Hume's
report. All search for the lost river proved vain.

Hume had found a serpentine sheet of water to the north which he was
inclined to think was the continuation of the elusive Macquarie. He had
pushed on past it, but had been checked by another body of reed beds. It
was decided to shift camp to this lagoon and launch the boat once more;
but without result, for the boat was hauled ashore again after having
vainly followed the supposed channel in amongst reeds and shallows. Again
the leader and his second went forward on a scouting trip. Each took with
them two men; Sturt going to the north-west, and Hume to the north-east.
They left on the last day of December, 1828.

Sturt toiled on until after sunset he came to a northward-flowing creek,
in which there was a fair supply of water. Next day their course lay
through plains intersected with belts of scrub, and they discovered
another creek, inferior to the last one both in size and the quality of
the water. They camped for a few hours on its bank, and Sturt called it
New Year's Creek, but it is now known as the Bogan River. They were about
to pass that night without water on the edge of a dry plain, when one of
the men had his attention drawn to the flight of a pigeon, and searching,
found a puddle of rain water which barely satisfied them. An isolated
hill with perpendicular sides, which Sturt had noticed for some time, now
attracted his attention, as being a lofty point of vantage from which to
get an extensive view to the west. They accordingly made for it, over
more promising country. They reached the hill which Sturt called Oxley's
Tableland, but from its summit he saw nothing but a stretch of monotonous
plain, with no sign of the long-sought river. That night they camped at a
small swamp, and the next morning turned back, Sturt agreeing with Oxley,
but without as much reason, that "the space I traversed is unlikely to
become the haunt of civilised man." Hume did not return until the day
after Sturt's arrival. He reported that the Castlereagh River must have
suddenly turned to the north below where Oxley crossed it, for he had
been unable to find it. He had gone westward, but had seen nothing except
far-stretching plains. After a few aimless and unprofitable ramblings,
they made their way again to Oxley's Tableland, and Sturt and Hume, with
two men, made a journey to the west, with only a negative result. On the
31st of January they commenced to follow down Sturt's New Year's Creek,
and the next day, to their unbounded surprise, came upon the bank of a
noble river. From its size and width they judged they had struck it at a
point as far from its source as from its termination; but when the men
rushed tumultuously down the bank to revel in the water and quench their
thirst, they cried out, with disgust and surprise, that the water was
salt.

Poor Sturt, whose heart was bounding with joy at the realisation of his
fondest hopes in this important discovery of a river which seemed to
answer all men's dreams and anticipations, felt the sudden revulsion of
despair. One saving thought he had, and that was that they were close to
its junction with the inland sea. Meantime, although human tracks were to
be seen everywhere, they saw none of the aborigines. Hume at length found
a pool of fresh water, which provided them with water for themselves and
their stock.

[Illustration. The Darling River, at Sturt's first view point. Photo by
the Reverend J. Milne Curran.]

The long-continued absence of rain having lowered the fresh water so that
the supply from the brine springs on the banks predominated, was the
explanation of the saltness of the water; but Sturt did not know this,
and for six days the party moved slowly down the river until the
discovery of saline springs in the bank convinced the leader that the
saltness was of local origin. Still that did not supply them with the
necessary drinking water, and on the sixth day, leaving the men encamped
at a small supply of fresh water, Sturt and Hume pushed on to look for
more, but in vain, and Sturt was compelled to order a retreat to Mount
Harris.

This shows how the exploration of the continent has ever been conditioned
by the uncertainty of the seasons. Had Sturt found the Darling in a
normal season, he would probably have followed it down to its junction
with the Murray, and the geographical system of the east would have been
at once laid bare. But it was not in such a simple manner that the great
river basin was to become known. Toil, privation, and the sacrifice of
human lives, had first to be suffered.

To the river which he had found Sturt gave the name Darling, in honour of
the Governor.

The return journey to Mount Harris continued without interruption. At
Mount Harris they expected to find fresh supplies; but as they approached
the place they could not restrain fears with regard to their safety. The
surrounding reed beds were in flames in all parts. The few natives that
were met with displayed a guilty timidity, and one was observed wearing a
jacket. Fortunately, however, their fears were groundless; the relief
party had arrived and had been awaiting their return for about three
weeks. An attack by the natives had been made, but it had been easily
repulsed. While Sturt rested at Mount Harris, Hume struck off to the
west, beyond the reeds. He reported the country as superior for thirty
miles to any they had yet seen, but beyond that limit lay brushwood and
monotonous plains.

On the 7th of March the party struck camp and departed for the
Castlereagh River. They found that the flooded stream, impassable by
Oxley, had totally disappeared. Not a drop of water lay in the bed of the
river. They commenced to follow its course down, and the old harassing
hunt for water had to be conducted anew. No wonder that Sturt could never
free himself from the memory of his fiery baptism as Australian explorer,
and that his mental picture of the country was ever shrouded in the haze
of drought and heat.

As they descended the Castlereagh into the level lower country, they were
greatly delayed by the many intricate windings of the river and its
multiplicity of channels. On the 29th of March they again reached the
Darling, ninety miles above the place where they had first come upon it,
and they observed the same characteristics as before, including the
saltness. This was a blow to Sturt, who had hoped to find it free from
salinity. Fortunately they were not distressed for fresh water at the
time, and knowing what to expect if the river was followed down again,
the party halted and formed a camp.

The next day Sturt, Hume, and two men crossed the river and made a short
journey of investigation to the west, to see what fortune held for them
further afield. Not having passed during the day "a drop of water or a
blade of grass," they found themselves by mid-afternoon on a wide plain
that stretched far away to the horizon. Sturt writes that had there been
the slightest encouragement afforded by any change in the country, he
would even then have pushed forward, "but we had left all traces of the
natives behind us, and this seemed a desert they never entered -- that
not even a bird inhabited."

Back to Mount Harris once more, where they arrived on the 7th of April,
1829. On their way they had stopped to follow a depression first noticed
by Hume, and decided that it was the channel of the overflow of the
Macquarie Marshes.

6.3. THE PASSAGE OF THE MURRAY.

The mystery of the Macquarie was now, to a certain extent, cleared away,
but the course and final outlet of the Darling now presented another
riddle, which Sturt too was destined to solve.

The discovery of such a large river as the Darling, augmented by the
Macquarie and Castlereagh, and (so people then thought) in all
probability the Lachlan, naturally inflamed public curiosity as to the
position of the outlet on the Australian coast. All the rivers that had
been tried as guides to the hidden interior having failed to answer the
purpose, the Murrumbidgee -- the beautiful river of the aboriginals --
was selected as the scene of the next attempt. There were good reasons
for the choice: it derived its volume from the highest known mountains,
snow-capped peaks in fact, that reminded the spectator of far northern
latitudes, and thus it was to a great extent independent of the variable
local rainfall.

Captain Sturt was naturally selected to be the leader of the Murrumbidgee
expedition, and with him as second went George MacLeay, the son of the
then Colonial Secretary. Harris, who had been Sturt's soldier-servant for
nearly eighteen years, and two other men of the 39th, who had been with
their Captain on the Macquarie expedition, also accompanied him, with a
very complete and well-furnished party, including the usual boat rigged
up on a carriage. This time, however, unlike the craft that had
accompanied previous exploring parties, the whaleboat was destined to be
immortalised in Australian history.

Settlement had by this time extended well up to and down the banks of the
Murrumbidgee, and Sturt took his departure from the borders of
civilisation about where the town of Gundagai now stands, almost at the
junction of the Tumut River, at Whaby's station. The course for some time
lay along the rich river-flats of the Murrumbidgee. The blacks, who of
course from their position were familiar with the presence of white men,
maintained a friendly demeanour. One slight excursion to the north was
made to connect with Oxley's furthest south, made when on his Lachlan
expedition; but though they did not actually verify the spot, Sturt
reckoned that he went within twenty miles of it, showing how narrowly
that explorer had missed the discovery of the Murrumbidgee.

As they got lower down the river they found themselves travelling through
the flat desolate country that reminded them only too forcibly of late
experiences on the Macquarie. Owing to some information gleaned from the
natives, Sturt and MacLeay rode north to try and again come upon the
Lachlan. They struck a dry channel, which Sturt believed was the drainage
from the Lachlan into the Murrumbidgee. This proved to be correct, as
natives afterwards testified that they had seen the two white men
actually on the Lachlan.

On the 25th, which was an intensely hot day, MacLeay, who was on ahead,
found himself suddenly confronted with a boundless sea of reeds, and the
river itself had suddenly vanished. He sent a mounted messenger back to
Sturt with these disastrous tidings. Sturt thereupon turned the drays,
which were already in difficulties in the loose soil, sharp round to the
right, and finally came to the river again, where they camped to discuss
the untoward circumstance.

At daylight the next morning, Sturt and MacLeay rode along its bank,
whilst Clayton, the carpenter, was set to work felling a tree and digging
a sawpit. Progress along the bank with the whole party was evidently
impossible. Sturt, however, had faith in the continuity of the river, and
announced to MacLeay his intention to send back most of the expedition,
and with a picked crew to embark in the whaleboat, committing their
desperate fortunes to the stream, and trusting to make the coast
somewhere, and leaving their return in the hands of Providence.

The more one regards this heroic venture, the more sublime does it
appear. The whole of the interior was then a sealed book, and the river,
for aught Sturt knew, might flow throughout the length of the continent.
But the voyage was commenced with cool and calm confidence.

In a week the whaleboat was put together, and a small skiff also built.
Six hands were selected for the crew, and the remainder, after waiting
one week in case of accident, were to return to Goulburn Plains and there
await events. It would be as well to embody here the names of this band.
John Harris, Hopkinson, and Fraser were the soldiers chosen, and Clayton,
Mulholland, and Macmanee the prisoners. The start was made at seven on
the morning of January 7th, the whale-boat towing the small skiff. Within
about fifteen miles of the point of embarkation they passed the junction
of the Lachlan, and that night camped amongst a thicket of reeds. The
next day the skiff fouled a log and sank, and though it was raised to the
surface and most of the contents recovered, the bulk of them was much
damaged. Fallen and sunken logs greatly endangered their progress, but on
the 14th they "were hurried into a broad and noble river." Such was the
force with which they were shot out of the Murrumbidgee that they were
carried nearly to the opposite bank of the new and ample stream. Sturt's
feelings at that moment were to be envied, and for once in a life
chequered with much disappointment he must have felt that a great reward
was granted to him in this crowning discovery. He named the new river the
Murray, after Sir George Murray, the head of the Colonial Department. As
some controversy has of late arisen as to the question of Sturt's right
to confer the name, we here quote his own words, written after surveying
the Hume in 1838.

"When I named the Murray I was in a great measure ignorant of the other
rivers with which it is connected...I want not to usurp an inch of ground
or of water over which I have not passed."

On the bosom of the Murray they could now make use of their sail, which
the contracted space in the bed of the Murrumbidgee had before prevented
them from doing. The aborigines were seen nearly every day, and once when
the voyagers had to negotiate a very ticklish rapid, some of them
approached quite close, and seemed to take great interest in the
proceedings.

Sturt's thoughts now turned towards the junction of the Darling, and at
last he sighted a deserted camp on which the huts resembled those he had
seen on that river. On the 23rd of January they came upon the junction at
a very critical moment. A line of magnificently-foliaged trees came into
view, among which was perceived a large gathering of blacks, who
apparently were inclined to be hostile. Sturt, who was at the helm, was
steering straight for them and made the customary signs of peace. Just
before it was too late to avoid a collision, Sturt marked hostility in
their quivering limbs and battle-lusting eyes. He instantly put the helm
a-starboard, and the boat sheered down the reach, the baffled natives
running and yelling defiantly along the bank. The river, however, was
shoaling rapidly, and from the opposite side there projected a sand-spit;
on each side of this narrow passage infuriated blacks had gathered, and
there was no mistaking their intentions. Sturt gave orders to his men as
to their behaviour, and held himself ready to give the battle-signal by
shooting the most active and forward of their adversaries.

Mention has been made of a small party of blacks who had been interested
in the shooting of a rapid by the boat's crew. Four of these savages had
camped with the explorers the preceding night, leaving at daylight in the
morning. Sturt imagined that they had gone ahead as peace delegates, and
he was thus most anxious to avoid a fight. But the life of the whole
party depended on prompt action being taken, and Sturt's eye was on the
leader and his finger on the trigger when "my purpose," he says "was
checked by MacLeay, who called to me that another party of blacks had
made their appearance on the left bank of the river. Turning round, I
observed four men at the top of their speed." These were the dusky
delegates, and the description given by Sturt of the conduct of the man
who saved the situation is very graphic:--

[Illustration. Junction of the Darling and Murray Rivers.]

"The foremost of them, as soon as he got ahead of the boat, threw himself
from a considerable height into the water. He struggled across the
channel to the sand-bank, and in an incredibly short space of time stood
in front of the savage against whom my aim had been directed. Seizing him
by the throat, he pushed him backwards, and forcing all who were in the
water on the bank, he trod its margin with a vehemence and an agitation
that was exceedingly striking. At one moment pointing to the boat, at
another shaking his clenched hand in the faces of the most forward, and
stamping with passion on the sand, his voice, that was at first distinct,
was lost in hoarse murmurs."

This episode, unequalled in the traditions of the Australian aborigines,
removed the imminent danger; and Sturt's tact, in a few moments changed
the hundreds of demented demons into a pack of laughing, curious
children, an easy and common transition with the savage nature. But for
the intervention of this noble chief, Sturt and his followers, penned
within the boat in shallow water, would have been massacred without a
chance to defend themselves. Surrounded as they were by six hundred
stalwart foes, their fate, save from unreliable native tradition, would
never have been known to their countrymen.

During the crisis, the boat had drifted untended, and grounded on the
sand. While the men were hastily pushing her off, they caught sight of "a
new and beautiful stream coming apparently from the north." A crowd of
natives were assembled on the bank of the new river, and Sturt pulled
across to them, thus creating a diversion amongst his erstwhile foes, who
swam after, as he says, "like a parcel of seals."

After presenting the friendly native with some acknowledgement and
refusing presents to the others, the pioneers examined the new river. The
banks were sloping and well-grassed, crowned with fine trees, and the men
cried out that they had got on to an English river. To Sturt himself the
moment was supreme. He was convinced "that we were now sailing on the
bosom of that very stream from whose banks I had been twice forced to
retire." They did not pull far up the stream, for a native fishing-net
was stretched across, and Sturt forbore to break it. The Union Jack was,
however, run up to the peak and saluted with three cheers, and then with
a favouring wind they bade farewell to the Darling and the now
wonderstruck natives.

As they went on, the party landed occasionally to inspect the surrounding
country, but on all sides from their low elevation they could see nothing
but a boundless flat. The skiff being now only a drag upon them, it was
broken up and burnt for the sake of the ironwork. On account of the
damage to the salt pork caused by the sinking of this boat, the strictest
economy of diet had to be exercised, and though an abundance of fish was
caught, they had become unattractive to their palates. The continuation
of the voyage down the course of the Murray was henceforth a monotonous
repetition of severe daily toil at the oar. The natives whom they
encountered, though friendly, became a nuisance from the constant
handling and embracing that the voyagers had, from purposes of policy, to
suffer unchecked. The tribes met with were more than ordinarily filthy,
and were disfigured by loathsome skin diseases. After twenty-one days on
the water, Sturt began to look most anxiously for indications of the sea,
for his men were fagging with the unremitting labour and short rations,
and they had only the strength of their own arms to rely on for their
return against the current. Soon, however, an old man amongst the natives
described the roaring of the waves, and showed by other signs that he had
been to the sea coast. But more welcome than all were some flocks of
sea-gulls that flew over and welcomed the tired men.

On the thirty-third day after leaving the starting-point on the
Murrumbidgee, Sturt, on landing to inspect the country, saw before him
the lake which was indeed the termination of the Murray, but not the end
that he had dreamt of. "For the lake was evidently so little influenced
by tides that I saw at once our probable disappointment of practical
communication between it and the ocean."

This foreboding was realised after examination of Lake Alexandrina, as it
is now called. Upon ascertaining their exact position on the southern
coast, nothing was left but to take up the weary labours of their return;
the thunder of the surf brought no hopeful message of succour, but rather
warned the lonely men to hasten back while yet some strength remained to
them.

Sturt re-entered the Murray on his homeward journey on the 13th of
February; and the successful accomplishment of this return is Sturt's
greatest achievement. His crew were indeed picked men, but what other
Australian leader of exploration could have inspired them with such a
deep sense of devotion as to carry them through their herculean task
without one word of insubordination or reproach. "I must tell the Captain
to-morrow that I can pull no more," was the utmost that Sturt heard once,
when they thought him asleep; but when the morrow came the speaker
stubbornly pulled on.

Three of these men, it must be remembered, were convicts; yet, despite
their heroic conduct, one only (Clayton) received a free pardon on their
return, though Sturt did his utmost to win fuller recognition of their
merits.

In such a work of generalisation as this, space will not permit of a
detailed account of the return voyage, but on the 20th of March they
reached the camp on the Murrumbidgee from which they had started. The
relief party were not there, and there was nothing left but to toil on,
though the men were falling asleep at the oars, and the river itself rose
and raged madly against them. When they reached a point within ninety
miles of the depot where Sturt expected the relief party to be, they
landed, and two men -- Hopkinson and Mulholland -- went forward on foot
for succour. They were now almost utterly without food, and had to wait
six dragging days before men arrived with drays and stores to their aid.

One little item let me add; the boat being no longer serviceable, was
burnt, Sturt giving as a reason that he was reluctant to leave her like a
log on the water. What a priceless relic that boat would now have become!

Sturt received but scant appreciation on his return from this heroic
journey. His eyesight was impaired and his health was failing; but
instead of obtaining much-needed rest, he was sent to Norfolk Island,
with a detachment of his regiment. There the moist climate still further
prejudiced his health, though he was able to quell a mutiny of the
convicts, and to save Norfolk Island from falling into their hands.
Governor Darling too proposed that Sturt should be sent as British
Resident to New Zealand, but filled with the love of continental
exploration, he would not leave Australia, to the satisfaction of the
fossils of the Colonial Office, who did not know of him, and promptly
appointed Busby. Even Sir G. Murray, after whom the river had been named,
had never heard of the river.

In 1832 or a little later, the temporary loss of the sight of one eye
forced him to go to England on leave, when he also bade adieu to his
regiment, which was ordered to India.

While in England, he published the first of his maps and books, but his
eyesight totally failing him, he retired from the army, July, 1833.
Sturt's eyesight, although never the same as before, was gradually
restored to him, and on September the 21st, 1834, he was married at Dover
to Charlotte Greene.

We must now take leave of this distinguished man, until he reappears in
these pages as an explorer of Central Australia.*

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 12.



CHAPTER 7. SIR THOMAS MITCHELL.

[Illustration. Sir Thomas Mitchell.]


7.1. INTRODUCTORY.

Mitchell, whose name both as explorer and Surveyor-General looms large in
our history, was born at Craigend, Stirlingshire, in 1792. He was the son
of John Mitchell of Grangemouth, and his mother was a daughter of
Alexander Milne of Carron Works. When he was but sixteen, young Mitchell
joined the army of the Peninsula as a volunteer. Three years later he
received a commission in the 95th Regiment or Rifle Brigade. He was
employed on the Quartermaster General's staff at military sketching; and
he was present in the field at Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Salamanca, the
Pyrenees, and St. Sebastian. After the close of the war he went to Spain
and Portugal to survey the battlefields. He received promotion to a
Lieutenancy in 1813. He served in the 2nd, 54th, and 97th Regiments of
foot, and was promoted to be Captain in 1822, and Major in 1826. His
appointment as Surveyor-General of New South Wales, as successor to John
Oxley, took place in 1827, when he at once assumed office, and started
energetically to lay out and construct roads, then the urgent need of the
new colony.

His strong personality, and the energy and thoroughness he displayed in
all his undertakings, combined with his many gifts as draughtsman,
surveyor and organizer, proved to be of peculiar service to the colony at
that period of its existence. There was a vast unknown country
surrounding the settled parts, awaiting both discovery and development,
and Mitchell's inclinations and talents being strongly directed towards
geographical discovery, the office of Surveyor-General that he held for
so long was the most appropriate and advantageous appointment that could
have been given him in the interests of the colony.

At the same time, Major Mitchell had faults which have always detracted
from the estimation in which he would otherwise be held for his undoubted
capabilities. His domineering temper led him into acts of injustice, and
often made it impossible for him to allow the judgments of others to
influence his opinions. In his view, no other explorer but himself ever
achieved anything worthy of commendation or propounded any credible
theory regarding the interior of Australia. He always referred
slightingly to Sturt, Cunningham, and Leichhardt, and his perversity on
the subject of the junction of the Darling and the Murray drew even from
the gentle Sturt a richly-deserved and unanswerable retort. On his second
expedition, which was supposed to establish the identity of the Darling
with the junction seen by Sturt, Mitchell excused himself from further
exploration of the lower Darling as he expressed himself satisfied that
Sturt's supposition was justified. But later, when on his expedition to
what is now the State of Victoria, he again fell into a doubting mood,
and he was not finally convinced until he had re-visited the junction.
This constant doubting at last roused Sturt, who speaking in 1848 of
Mitchell's work, said: "In due time he came to the disputed junction
which he tells us he recognised from its resemblance to a drawing of it
in my first work. As I have since been on the spot, I am sorry to say
that it is not at all like the place, because it obliges me to reject the
only praise Sir Thomas Mitchell ever gave me."

Sturt's original sketch of the junction had been lost, and Sturt, who was
nearly blind at the time of publication, obtained the assistance of a
friend, who drew it from his verbal description.

7.2. THE UPPER DARLING.

Rumours of a mysterious river called the Kindur, which was said, on no
better authority than a runaway convict's, to pursue a north-west course
through Australia, now began to be noised about. This convict, whose name
was Clarke, but who was generally known as the Barber, said that he had
taken to the bush in the neighbourhood of the Liverpool Plains, and had
followed down a river which the natives called the Gnamoi. He crossed it
and came next to the Kindur. This he followed down for four hundred miles
before he came upon the junction of the two. The union of the two formed
a broad navigable river, which he still followed, although he had lost
his reckoning, and did not know whether he had travelled five hundred or
five thousand miles. One thing, however, he was convinced of, and that
was that he had never travelled south of west. He asserted that he had a
good view of the sea, from the mouth of this most desirable river, and
had seen a large island from which, so the natives reported, there came
copper-<DW52> men in large canoes to take away scented wood. The Kindur
ran through immense plains, and past a burning mountain. As no one had
invited him to stay in this delectable country, he had returned.

The story, which bore every evidence of having been invented to save his
back, received a certain amount of credence, and Sir Patrick Lindesay,
then Acting-Governor, gave the Surveyor-General instructions to
investigate the truth of it. It was in this way that Mitchell's first
expedition originated.

On the 21st of November, 1831, Mitchell left Liverpool Plains and reached
the Namoi on the 16th December. He crossed it and penetrated some
distance into a range which he named the Nundawar Range. He then turned
back to the Namoi, and set up some canvas boats which he had brought to
assist him in following the river down. The boats were of no use for the
purpose, one of them getting snagged immediately, and it was clear that
it would be easier to follow the river on land. As the range was not easy
of ascent, he worked his way round the end of it and came on to the lower
course of Cunningham's Gwydir, which he followed down for eighty miles.
At this point he turned north and suddenly came to the largest river he
had yet seen. Mitchell, ever on the alert to bestow native names on
geographical features -- a most praiseworthy trait in his character, and
through the absence of which in most other explorers, Australian
nomenclature lacks distinction and often euphony -- enquired of the name
from the natives, and found it to be called the Karaula. Was this, or was
this not the nebulous Kindur? The answer could be supplied only by
tracing its course; but its general direction and the discovery and
recognition of its junction with the Gwydir showed that the Karaula was
but the upper flow of Sturt's Darling. Much disappointed, for Mitchell
was intent upon the discovery of a new river system having a northerly
outflow, he prepared to make a bold push into the interior. Before he
started, Finch, his assistant-surveyor arrived hurriedly on the scene
with a tale of death. Finch had been bringing up supplies, and during his
temporary absence his camp had been attacked by the natives, the cattle
dispersed, the supplies carried off, and two of the teamsters murdered.
All ideas of further penetration into the new country had to be
abandoned. Mitchell was compelled to hasten back, bury the bodies of the
victims, and after an ineffective quest for the murderers, return to the
settled districts.

The journey, however, had not been without good results. Knowledge of the
Darling had been considerably extended, and it was now shown to be the
stream receiving the outflow of the rivers whose higher courses
Cunningham had discovered. The beginning of the great river system of the
Darling may be said to have been thus placed among proven data. Mitchell
himself afterwards showed himself an untiring and zealous worker in
solving the identity of the many ramifications of this system.

7.3. THE PASSAGE OF THE DARLING.

His next journey was undertaken to confirm the fact of the union of the
Darling and the Murray. Sturt himself was fully convinced that he had
seen the junction of the two rivers when on his long boat voyage; but he
had not converted every one, and Mitchell, with a large party was
despatched to settle the question and make a systematic survey. Early in
March, 1833, the expedition left Parramatta to proceed by easy stages to
the head of the Bogan River, which had been partly traversed the year
before by surveyor Dixon. It was during this expedition that Richard
Cunningham, brother of Allan, was murdered by the natives. He had not
been long in Australia, and had been appointed botanist to the
expedition. On the morning of April 17th, he lost sight of the party,
whilst pursuing some scientific quest, and as the main body were then
pushing hurriedly over a dry stage to the Bogan River, he was not
immediately missed. Not having any bush experience, he lost himself, and
was never seen again. A long and painful search followed, but owing to
some mischance, Cunningham's tracks were lost on the third day, and it
was not until the 23rd of the month that they were again found. Larmer,
the assistant-surveyor, and three men were sent to follow them up until
they found the lost man. Three days later they returned, having come
across only the horse he had ridden, dead, with the saddle and bridle
still on. Mitchell personally conducted the further search. Cunningham's
tracks were again picked up, and his wandering and erratic footsteps
traced to the Bogan, where some blacks stated that they had seen the
white man's tracks in the bed of the river, and that he had gone west
with the Myalls, or wild blacks.*

*[Footnote.] Lieutenant Zouch, of the Mounted Police, subsequently found
the site of his death, and recovered a few bones, a Manilla hat, and
portions of a coat. The account afterwards given by the natives was to
the effect that the white man came to them and they gave him food, and he
camped with them: but that during the night he repeatedly got up, and
this roused their fears and suspicions, so that they determined to
destroy him. One struck him on the back of the head with a nulla-nulla,
when the others rushed in and finished the deadly work.

[Illustration. A Chief of the Bogan River Tribe. Photo by the Reverend
J.M. Curran.]

As is often the case with men lost in the bush, the unfortunate botanist,
by wandering on confusing and contradictory courses, had rendered the
work of the search party more tedious and difficult, thus sealing his own
fate. A rude stone memorial has since been erected on the spot, and a
tablet put up in the St. Andrew's Scots Church, Sydney. The death of
Cunningham, who was a young and ardent man with the promise of a
brilliant future caused Mitchell much distress of mind. He did all he
could to find his lost comrade, and jeopardised the success of the
expedition by the long delay of fourteen days.

He resumed his journey by easy stages down the Bogan, and on the 25th of
May came to the Darling. This river was at once recognised by all who had
been with him on his former trip as identical with the Karaula as
Mitchell had supposed; but he found the country in a different condition
from that presented by it when Sturt and Hume first discovered the river
at nearly the same place. The water was now fresh and sweet to drink, and
the flats and banks luxuriant with grass and herbage.

After choosing a site for a camp, where the town of Bourke now stands,
Mitchell erected a stockade of logs, which he named Fort Bourke, after
the Governor. The country on either side of the Darling was now alive
with natives, and though a sort of armed truce was kept up, it was at the
cost of constant care and watchfulness, and the tactful submission to
numerous annoyances, including much petty pilfering. The boats proved to
be of no service, and after Mitchell with a small party had made a short
excursion down the river to the farthest limit of Sturt and Hume in 1829,
where he saw the tree then marked by Hume, H.H., he had the camp
dismantled, and started with the whole party to follow the river down to
its junction with the Murray.

By the 11th of July, one month after leaving Fort Bourke, they had traced
the river for three hundred miles through a country of level monotony
unbroken by any tributary rivers or creeks of the least importance.
Mitchell was now certain from the steadfast direction the river
maintained, and the short distance that now intervened between the lowest
point they had reached and Sturt's junction, that Sturt had really been
correct in his surmise, and that he had witnessed the meeting of the
rivers on that memorable occasion. He therefore decided that to keep on
was but needlessly endangering the lives of his men. He was constantly
kept in a state of anxiety for the safety of any member of the party
whose duty compelled him to separate from the main body, for the natives,
who had become doubly bold through familiarity, were now persistently
encroaching and rapidly assuming a defiant manner.

On the very day that Mitchell had made up his mind to retreat, the long
threatened rupture took place. Mitchell refers to the blacks of this
region as the most unfavourable specimens of aborigine that he had yet
seen, barbarously and implacably hostile, and shamelessly dishonest. On
the morning of July 11th, two of the men were engaged at the river, and
five of the bullock-drivers were collecting their cattle. One of the
natives, nick-named King Peter by the men, tried to snatch a kettle from
the hand of the man who was carrying it, and on this action being
resented, he struck the man with a nulla-nulla, stretching him senseless.
His companion shot King Peter in the groin, and his majesty tumbled into
the river and swam across. The swarm of natives who were constantly
loitering around the camp gathered together and advanced in an armed
crowd, threatening the men, who fired two shots in self-defence, one of
which accidentally wounded a woman. Alarmed by the shots, three men from
the camp came to the assistance of their mates, and one native was shot
just when he was about to spear a man. The blacks now drew back a little,
and the men seized the opportunity to warn the bullock-drivers, whom they
found occupied in lifting a bullock that had fallen into a bog. Their
arrival probably saved their lives, as the bullock drivers were unarmed.
No further attack took place, but the strictest watch had to be kept
until the party was ready to begin the return journey or to beat a
retreat as the natives regarded it. They reached Fort Bourke without
further molestation, the aborigines being content with having driven away
the whites, who retraced their steps from Fort Bourke to Bathurst.

The geographical knowledge gained on this journey consisted mainly in the
confirmation of tentative theories -- the identity of the Karaula with
the Darling, and the uninterrupted course of the latter river southwards,
as Major Mitchell himself had to confess, into the Murray. Furthermore it
seemed now satisfactorily settled that all the inland rivers as yet
discovered found the same common embouchure. Mitchell's experience too
proved that the pastoral country through which the Darling ran was by no
means unfit for habitation, nor was the river a salt one; true some of
his men had noticed that the water was brackish in places, but this
brackishness, it was seen, had a purely local origin.

Mitchell was a keen observer of the habits and customs of the aborigines.
He was remarkably quick at detecting tribal differences and distinctions,
and his records of his intercourse with them -- which occupies so much of
his journals -- were most interesting then, when little had been written
on the subject; and are even more valuable now, as a first-hand account
by an intelligent man and a practised observer of the appearance of the
natives at the time of earliest contact with the white man.

7.4. AUSTRALIA FELIX.

One would have thought that the fact of the union of the Darling and the
Murray was now sufficiently well-established; but the official mind
deemed otherwise. When the Surveyor-General's next expedition started in
March, 1836, he was informed that the survey of the Darling was to be
completed without any delay; that, having returned to the point where his
last journey had come to an end, he was to trace the river right into the
Murray -- see the waters of the two mingle in fact -- then to cross over
the Murray and follow up the southern bank, recrossing, and regaining the
settled districts at Yass Plains. Although the primary object of the
expedition was the verification of previous discoveries, the programme
was largely departed from, and this particular journey of Mitchell's led
to the opening up and speedy settlement of what is now the State of
Victoria.

A drought, long-continued and severe, was in full force when Mitchell
commenced his preparations for departure; consequently bullocks and
horses in suitable condition were hard to obtain. But as the Government
spared no expense, the necessary animals were at last available. Though
upon reaching Bathurst Mitchell was informed that the Lachlan River was
dry, he started on his third exploring expedition in the best of spirits.
His mind overflowed with old memories and associations, and he wrote in
his journal that this was the anniversary of the day "when he marched
down the glacis of St. Elvas to the tune of St. Patrick's Day in the
Morning, as the sun rose over the beleaguered towers of Badajoz." He had
heard that the aborigines of the lower Murray had been informed of his
approach, and that they had assured the other tribes that they were
gathering murry coolah -- very angry -- to meet him, but this to one of
the Major's temper, lent but an added zest to the journey; for there were
old scores to settle on both sides. It was the 17th of March, 1836,
before he got free of the cattle stations and found himself at the point
where Oxley had finally left the river. He noticed that throughout this
route, in spite of the dry weather, the cattle were all in good
condition; and he found Oxley's swamps and marshes transmuted into grassy
flats. In fact, so changed was the face of the land, that even the
landmarks of that explorer could scarcely be recognised.

Again his mind began to be troubled with doubts as to whether he had not
acknowledged the veracity of Sturt's judgment too hastily, for we find in
his journal that he again wavered, after professing that the identity
admitted of little doubt. Now, on the Lachlan, he reverted to his old
idea that the Darling drained a separate and independent basin of its
own. He wrote:--

"I considered it necessary to ascertain, if possible, and before the
heavy part of our equipage moved further forward, whether the Lachlan
actually joined the Murrumbidgee near the point where Mr. Oxley saw its
waters covering the face of the country, or whether it pursued a course
so much more to the westward as to have been mistaken for the Darling by
Captain Sturt."

Impelled by this doubt he undertook a long excursion to the westward with
no result but the discomfort of several thirsty nights and an unchanging
outlook across a level expanse of country bounded by an unbroken horizon.
He reached Oxley's furthest on the 5th of May, but did not find that
explorer's marked tree, though he found others marked by Oxley's party
with the date 1817.

On the 12th of May, he halted on the bank of the Murrumbidgee, which in
his opinion surpassed all the other Australian rivers he had yet seen. As
his orders were simply to clear up the last hazy doubts that wrapped the
Murray and Darling junction, and then to visit the southern bank of the
Murray, he did not take his heavy baggage on to the Darling, but formed a
stationary camp on the Murrumbidgee, and thence went on with a small
party. When they came to the Murray, they found their old enemies awatch
for them. It was afterwards ascertained that many of these aborigines had
travelled as far as two hundred miles to assist in chasing back the white
intruders once more from their violated hunting-grounds. But these braves
of the Darling did not yet understand the nature of the man they sought
to intimidate.

At first a nominal peace prevailed, and for two days the blacks followed
the expedition closely, seeking to cut off any stragglers, and rendered
the out-roving work of minding and collecting the cattle and horses one
of considerable risk. Mitchell was soon convinced that a sharp lesson was
necessary to save his men. In the event of losing any of his party, he
would have had to fight his way back with the warriors of what seemed a
thickly-populated district arrayed against him. One morning, therefore,
the party was divided, and half of them sent back to an ambush in the
scrub. The natives were allowed to pass on in close pursuit of the
advance party. The native dogs, however, scented this ambuscade, and,
after their fashion, warned the blacks of the presence of the hidden
whites. As they halted, and began handling and poising their spears, one
of the ambushed men fired without orders, and the others followed his
example. The natives faltered, and those in advance, hearing the firing,
rushed back eager to join in the fray. The conflict was short and
decisive; the over-confident fighting men of the Darling lost seven of
their number and were driven ignominiously back into the Murray scrub and
across that river. Henceforth the explorers were unmolested. These
pugnacious aboriginals were the same that had threatened to bring Sturt's
boat voyage to a tragical conclusion, and soon after Mitchell's
exploration, they waged a determined war against the early overlanders
and their stock.

Mitchell's way to the Darling was now clear, and on the 31st of May he
came upon that river, a short distance above the confluence. Tracing the
stream upwards, he again convinced himself that it was the same river
that he had been on before, and, satisfied of this, he turned and
proceeded right down to the junction itself, and finally disposed of one
of the most interesting problems in Australian exploration.

He naturally felt much anxiety, after his late skirmish, for the safety
of the stationary camp he had left behind, and having lost no time during
his return, he was relieved to find his camp in quiet and safety.

The Surveyor-General first mapped the exact junction of the Murrumbidgee
and Murray, and then transferred the whole of the expedition in boats to
the other side of the Murray. Thus was commenced the investigation of the
unexplored side of the Murray, that above its junction with the
Murrumbidgee, in other words the Hume proper. On the 30th of June the
party camped at Swan Hill, having found the country traversed to exceed
expectations in every way. This pleasing state of affairs continued and
Mitchell journeyed on without check or hindrance. After finding the
Loddon River on the 8th of July, and the Avoca on the 10th, he altered
his preconceived plan to follow the main river up, and, drawn by the
beauty and pastoral advantages of this new territory, he struck off to
the south-west in order to examine it in detail, and trace its
development southwards.

More and more convinced that he had found the garden of Australia -- he
afterwards named this region Australia Felix -- Mitchell kept steadily on
until he came to the Wimmera, that deceptive river which afterwards
nearly lured Eyre to a death of thirst. On the last day of July he
discovered the beautiful Glenelg, and launched his boat on its waters. At
the outset he was stopped by a fall, was compelled to take to the land
once more, and proceeded along the bank, occasionally crossing to examine
the other side. On the 18th the boats were again used, the river being
much broader, and in two days he reached the coast, a little to the east
of Cape Northumberland.

The whole expedition then moved homewards, and reached Portland Bay,
where they found that the Henty family from Van Diemen's Land had been
established on a farm for about two years. From them Mitchell received
some assistance in the way of necessary supplies, and then resumed his
journey for home. On the 19th the party separated; Mitchell pushed ahead,
leaving Stapylton, his second, to rest the tired animals for a while and
then to follow slowly. On his homeward way Mitchell ascended Mount
Macedon, and from the summit saw and identified Port Phillip. His return,
with his glowing report of the splendid country he had discovered --
country fitted for the immediate occupation of the grazier and the farmer
-- at once stimulated its settlement, and as the man whose explorations
were of immediate benefit to the community in general -- Mitchell's name
stands first on the roll of explorers.

7.5. DISCOVERY OF THE BARCOO.

Some years elapsed before Mitchell -- now Sir Thomas -- again took to the
field of active exploration. The settlement of the upper Darling and the
Darling Downs had caused numerous speculations as to the nature of the
unknown territory comprising the northern half of Australia. In 1841,
communications had passed between the Governor and Captain Sturt, and in
December of the same year Eyre, not long returned from his march round
the Great Bight, wrote offering his services, provided that no prior
claim had been advanced by Sturt. Governor Gipps asked for an estimate of
the expenses, but considered Eyre's estimate of five thousand pounds too
high, and nothing further was done. In 1843, Sir Thomas Mitchell
submitted a plan of exploration to the Governor, who consulted the
Legislative Council. The Council approved it and voted one thousand
pounds towards expenses. The Governor referred the matter to Lord
Stanley, whose reply was favourable, but the project still hung fire. In
1844 Eyre again wrote offering to make the journey at a much more
reasonable rate, but his offer was however declined as Mitchell's
proposals held the field. In 1845 the fund was increased to two thousand
pounds, and Sir George Gipps ordered the Surveyor-General to make his
preparations.

Mitchell favoured the search for a practicable road to the Gulf of
Carpentaria, and hoped also that he would at last find his long-sought
northern-flowing river. In a letter which he then received from a
well-known grazier, Walter Bagot, there is mention of an aboriginal
description of a large river running northward to the west of the
Darling. But as natives in their descriptions frequently confuse flowing
to and flowing from, they probably had Cooper's Creek in mind.

During the earlier part of the year, Commissioner Mitchell, the son of
Sir Thomas, who was afterwards drowned during a passage to Newcastle, had
made a flying survey towards the Darling, and the discovery of the
Narran, Balonne, and Culgoa rivers has been attributed to him.

On the 15th of December, 1845, Mitchell started from Buree with a very
large company, including E.B. Kennedy as second in command, and W.
Stephenson as surgeon and collector. He struck the Darling much higher
than Fort Bourke, and it was not until he was across the river that he
passed the outermost cattle-stations, which had sprung rapidly into
existence since his last visit to the neighbourhood. The Narran was then
followed up until the Balonne was reached. This river, in his superlative
style, Mitchell pronounced to be the finest in Australia, with the
exception of the Murray. He then struck and followed the Culgoa upwards
until it divided into two branches; he skirted the main one, which
retained the name of the Balonne. On the 12th of April he came to the
natural bridge of rocks which he called St. George's bridge, and which is
the site of the present town of St. George. Here a temporary camp was
formed; Kennedy was left in charge to bring the main body on more slowly;
Mitchell with a few men went ahead. He followed up the Balonne to the
Maranoa, but as the little he saw of that tributary did not tempt him to
further investigation of it, he kept on his course up the main stream
until he reached the junction of a stream which he named the Cogoon. This
riverlet led him on into a magnificent pastoral district, in the midst of
which stood a solitary hill that he named Mount Abundance. It is in his
description of this region in his journal that we first find an allusion
to the bottle tree.

The party wandered on over a low watershed and came down out on to a
river which, from its direction and position, he surmised to be the
Maranoa, the stream he had not followed. At this new point it was full of
deep reaches of water, and drained a tract of most pleasing land. On its
banks he determined to await Kennedy's arrival.

Kennedy overtook him on the 1st of June, bringing from Sir Thomas's son
Roderick despatches which had reached the party after the leader's
departure. Amongst other items of news in the despatches was the report
of Leichhardt's return, and of the hearty reception that he had been
accorded in Sydney. One piece of random information, a mere floating
newspaper surmise, but enough to arouse Mitchell's suspicious temper,
annoyed him greatly. "We understand," it ran, "the intrepid Dr.
Leichhardt is about to start another expedition to the Gulf, keeping to
the westward of the coast ranges."

As this seemed to indicate an intention of trespassing on Mitchell's
present field of operations, he naturally felt some resentment not likely
to be allayed by such a paragraph as the following: "Australia Felix and
the discoveries of Sir Thomas Mitchell now dwindle into comparative
insignificance."

Again leaving Kennedy, he set out to make a very extended excursion.
Traversing the country from the head of the Maranoa, he discovered the
Warrego River. Keeping north, over the watershed, for a time he fondly
imagined that he had reached northward-flowing waters; but the direction
of the rivers that he found, the Claude and the Nogoa, soon convinced him
of his error, and that he was on rivers of the east coast. Even when he
had reached the Belyando, a river which he named and followed down for a
short distance, he still deluded himself that he had reached inland
waters. Intensely mortified at finding that he was on a tributary of the
Burdekin, and approaching the ground already trodden by Leichhardt, he
returned to the head of the Nogoa, once more subdivided his party, and
formed a stationary camp to await his return from a westward trip.

This time, however, he was blessed with the most splendid success. He
found the Barcoo, a river that seemed to him to promise all he sought
for. The direction of its upper course easily led him to believe that it
was an affluent of the Gulf of Carpentaria, and after tracing it for some
distance he returned to camp. The newly-discovered river he named the
Victoria, thinking it would prove to be the same as that found by Captain
Stokes on his survey expedition. It was on the Barcoo, or Victoria, that
Mitchell first noticed the now famous grass that bears his name. On their
return journey, they followed down the Maranoa, and at the old camp at
St. George's Bridge, they were told by the natives that white men had
visited the place during their long absence. It was a singular and
welcome feature of Mitchell's discoveries that they had always proved to
be adjacent to civilisation, and to be suitable for immediate occupation.

The discovery of the Barcoo was the last feather in the cap of the
Surveyor-General. He was doomed to learn soon that it was not the river
of his dreams, but only the head waters of that central stream discovered
by Sturt, Cooper's Creek; but meanwhile the delusion must have been very
gratifying.

In 1851 Mitchell was sent out to report on the Bathurst goldfields, and
on a subsequent visit to England he took with him the first specimen of
gold and the first diamond found in Australia. He was for a short time
one of the members for the Port Phillip electorate, but resigned, as he
found faithful discharge of the duties to be incompatible with his
office. He patented the boomerang screw propeller, and was the author of
many educational and other works, including a translation of the Lusiad
of Camoens. Although a strict martinet in his official duties, and
subject to a choleric temper, he was strenuous in his devotion to the
advancement of Australia, among whose makers he must always occupy a
proud position. He died on the 5th of October, 1855, at Carthona, his
private residence at Darling Point, Sydney, New South Wales. His wife was
a daughter of Colonel Blount.



CHAPTER 8. THE EARLY FORTIES.


8.1. ANGAS McMILLAN AND GIPPSLAND.

Angas McMillan, who was the discoverer of what is now so widely-known as
Gippsland, in Victoria, was a manager of the Currawang station, in the
Maneroo district. On the 20th of May, 1839, he started from the station
on a trip to the southward to look for new grazing land. He had with him
but one black boy, named Jimmy Gibbu, who claimed to be the chief of the
Maneroo tribe, so that if the party was small, it was very select. On the
fifth day McMillan got through to the country watered by the Buchan
River, and, from the summit of an elevation which he called Mount
Haystack, he obtained a most satisfactory view over the surrounding
region. The next night, McMillan, awakened by a noise, found Jimmy Gibbu
bending over him with a nulla-nulla in his hand. Fortunately, McMillan's
pistol was within easy reach, and, presenting it at Jimmy's head, he
compelled him to drop the nulla-nulla, and to account for his suspicious
attitude. Jimmy confessed to a fear of the Warrigals, or wild blacks of
that region, to acute home-sickness, and to a general unwillingness to
proceed further.

McMillan examined the country he had found, and having judged it to be
very desirable pastoral land, he returned home. He then formed a new
station for Mr. Macalister on some country he had found on the Tambo
River, and went himself on another trip of discovery. This time he had
four companions with him, two friends named Cameron and Matthews, a
stockman, and a black boy. they followed the Tambo River down its course
through fine grazing country, both plains and forest, until in due course
it led them to the point of its embouchure in the lakes of the south
coast. He named Lake Victoria, and then directed his course to the west,
where he discovered and named the Nicholson and Mitchell rivers. He was
so deeply impressed with the resemblance of the country he had just been
over to some parts of Scotland, that he called the district by the now
obsolete name of Caledonia Australis. On January the 23rd, 1840, he was
out again and discovered and named the Macalister River, and pushed on as
far west as the La Trobe River. This addition of rich pastoral regions to
the already settled districts was altogether due to Angas McMillan's
energy, and is now known as Gippsland, being named officially after Sir
George Gipps, the Governor who had the amusing eccentricity of insisting
that all the towns laid out during his term of office should have no
public squares included within their boundaries, being convinced that
public squares encouraged the spread of democracy.

8.2. COUNT STRZELECKI.

Count Strzelecki's expedition through Gippsland with the discovery of
which district he is commonly and wrongly credited, was due to the
literary and geographical work he had undertaken, as he was gathering
material for his well-known work, The Physical Description of New South
Wales, Victoria, and Van Diemen's Land. He ascended the south-east
portion of the main dividing range, and named the highest peak thereof
Kosciusko, after a fancied resemblance in its outline to that Polish
patriot's tomb at Cracow.

On the 27th of March, 1840, he reached the cattle station on the Tambo
whither McMillan had just returned, and was directed by him on to his
newly-discovered country. Strzelecki pushed through to Western Port,
meeting with some scrubby and almost inaccessible country during the last
stages of his journey. His party had to abandon both horses and packs,
and fight its way through a dense undergrowth on a scanty ration of one
biscuit and a slice of bacon per day, varied with an occasional native
bear. It was here that the Count, who was an athletic man, found that his
hardy constitution stood the party in good stead. So weakened and
exhausted were his companions, that it was only by constant encouragement
that he urged them along at all. When forcing their way through the
matted growth of scrub, he often threw himself bodily upon it, breaking a
path for his weary followers by the mere weight of his body. It was in a
wretched condition that they at last reached Western Port.

8.3. PATRICK LESLIE.

In 1840 Patrick Leslie, who has always been considered the father of
settlement on the Darling Downs, started with stock from a New England
station, then the most northerly settled district in New South Wales, and
formed the first station on the Condamine River, actually before that
river had been identified as a tributary of the Darling. There was a
general impression that the Condamine flowed north and east, and finally
found its way through the main range to the Pacific. In 1841, Stuart
Russell, who closely followed Leslie as a pioneer, followed the river
down for more than a hundred miles to the westward, and in the following
year it was traced still further, and the Darling generally accepted as
its final destination.

8.4. LUDWIG LEICHHARDT.

[Illustration. Ludwig Leichhardt.]

Leichhardt is the Franklin of Australia, around whose name has ever clung
a tantalising veil of mystery and romance. Truth to tell, his claim as a
leading explorer rests solely on his first and undoubtedly fruitful
expedition. But for his mysterious fate mention of his name would not
stir the hearts of men as it does. Had he returned from his final venture
beaten, it must have been to live through the remainder of his life a
disappointed and embittered man. Far better for one of his temperament to
rest in the wilderness, his grave unknown, but his memory revered.

Leichhardt was born at Beskow, near Berlin, and studied at Berlin.
Through an oversight he was omitted from the list of those liable to the
one year of military service, and the sweets of exemption tempted him to
evade the three-year military course. The consequence was that he was
prosecuted as a deserter, and sentenced in contumaciam. Afterwards,
Alexander von Humboldt succeeded, by describing his services to science
on his first expedition in Australia, in obtaining a pardon from the
King. By a Cabinet Order, Leichhardt received permission to return to
Prussia unpunished. When the order arrived in Australia, he had already
started on his last expedition.

Dr. Leichhardt appears to have been a man whose character, to judge from
his short career, was largely composed of contradictions and
inconsistencies. Eager for personal distinction, with high and noble
aims, he yet lacked that ready sympathy and feeling of comradeship that
attract men. Leichhardt's followers never desired to accompany him on a
second expedition. Yet strange to say, he was capable of inspiring firm
friendship in such men as William Nicholson and Lieutenant Robert Lynd.

When he left on his first exploring expedition, on which he was
successful owing to the luck of the novice, people generally predicted --
and with much reason -- that he would fail. But when he set out on his
second and disastrous journey, universally applauded and with his name on
everybody's lips, it was never doubted but that he would succeed.

[Map. Leichhardt's Route 1844 and 1845, Mitchell's Route 1845 and 1846,
and Kennedy's Route 1847 and 1848]

On his first expedition he was insufficiently equipped, had but
inexperienced men with him, and was a bad bushman himself. In fact the
journal of the trip reads to a man accustomed to bush life like the fable
of The Babes in the Wood; yet he managed to blunder through. On his
second expedition he was amply provided, and most of his companions were
experienced men, but it proved a miserable fiasco.

His great confidence in himself led him to ignore or undervalue the fact,
patent to others, that he was no bushman either by instinct or training.
And he seemed to prefer for companions men like himself, who could not
detect this failing, as is evident from a letter written by him to W.
Hull, of Melbourne, with reference to a young man who was anxious to join
his party. In this letter he enumerates the qualities that he considers
necessary in a follower:--

"Activity, good humour, sound moral principle, elasticity of mind and
body, and perfect willingness to obey my orders, even though given
harshly...I have been extremely unfortunate in the choice of my former
companions."

The last remark is an unworthy one, and of course applies to the
companions of his second expedition. He does not include a knowledge of
open-air life amongst his qualifications, nor the needful bushmanship;
and apparently in Leichhardt's opinion, a useless man of good moral
principle would be as acceptable to an explorer as a good bushman of
doubtful morality. It causes one to inquire whether the devoted men who
toiled for Sturt, private soldiers and prisoners of the Crown, were men
of sound moral principle? This extract affords an insight into
Leichhardt's failures. He wanted only those men who would blindly and
ignorantly obey and believe in him. For a man of Leichhardt's
temperament, such men were not to be found: he had missed the fairy gift
at birth -- all the essentials of good leadership.

Stuart Russell, in his Genesis of Queensland, cites his shrewd old
stockman's opinion of Dr. Leichhardt, as he was just before his first
trip. The station from which Leichhardt started on that occasion was near
Russell's, so that the man spoke from personal knowledge: "It's my belief
that if Dr. Leichhardt do it at all, 'twill be more by good luck than
management. Why, sir, he hasn't got the knack of some of us; why it comes
like mother's milk to some. I can't tell how or why, but it does. Mark my
words, sir, Dr. Leichhardt hasn't got it in him, and never will have."

Two invaluable qualities in an explorer, apart from his scientific
attainments, Leichhardt possessed. These were courage and determination;
necessary no doubt, but not sufficient in themselves to carry through an
expedition to success. He lacked tact, and was deficient in practical
knowledge of the bush, and especially in what is known as bushmanship.
One fixed idea of his was, that in dry country if one can only keep on
far enough one is bound to come to water: a theory plausible enough if it
could be carried out to its logical conclusion; but the application of
which often involves a physical impossibility. And it must be taken into
consideration that Leichhardt had never travelled in the dry country of
the interior, but that what small experience he possessed had been gained
on the fairly well-watered coast. He asserts in his journal that cattle
and horses trust entirely to the sense of vision for finding water, and
not to the sense of smell. The exact reverse is of course the case.

The character of the lost explorer will thus be seen to have militated
strongly against his success when he came to be pitted against the -- to
him -- unknown dangers of a dry season in the far interior. But his fatal
self-confidence led him to challenge the desert, thinking that he must
succeed where better men had been denied even the hope of success. When
his last expedition comes to be reviewed, a more detailed discussion of
the probabilities of a successful issue to it will be made. Poor
Leichhardt, with all his moods and caprices, it would have been strange
if he had not shown some appreciation of humour. Let us quote his
description of his sudden and unexpected arrival in Sydney, after the
Port Essington expedition.

"We did come to Sydney, it was quite dark; we did go ashore, and then I
thought to see my dear friend Lynd. So I went up George Street to the
barracks. And then I went to his quarters to his window. He was dressing
himself; I did put in my head; he did jump out of the other window and I
stood there wondering. Soon many people did come round, and did look, Oh
so timid. I did not know all. And there was such a greeting. I was dead,
and was alive again. I was lost, and was found."

But in thus reviewing Leichhardt's aptitude -- or rather inaptitude --
for the work, and commenting upon his shortcomings, we must do him the
fullest justice by paying homage to the sincerity of his belief in
himself and his mission. In that belief he was honestly loyal. His
conception of his duty was of the highest, and in its interest he would,
and did, make every sacrifice in his power. If some prescient tongue
could have told Leichhardt that the end of his quest would be an unknown
death, he would have accepted the fate without a murmur, provided his
death benefited geographical discovery.

As the man of science in a party under a capable leader, Leichhardt would
have achieved greater success than many men who have filled that
position; as the leader himself he was, of necessity, an absolute
failure.

Leichhardt arrived in New South Wales in 1842, and after some botanical
excursions about the Hunter River district, he travelled overland to
Moreton Bay, and there occupied himself with short expeditions in the
neighbourhood, pursuing his favourite study of physical science. When the
subject of the exploration of the north was mooted, he was desirous of
securing the position of naturalist, but the delay in forming the
projected expedition disappointed him, and he resolved to try and
organise a private one. In this he received very little encouragement. He
persevered, however, and eking out his own resources by means of private
contributions, both in money and stock, he managed to get a party
together. On the 1st of October, 1844, he left Jimbour station on the
Darling Downs, on the trip that was destined to make his name as an
explorer. His preparations were on a much smaller scale than Mitchell's.
Considering the importance of the undertaking, his party was absurdly
small. He had with him six white and two black men, seventeen horses,
sixteen head of cattle and four kangaroo dogs; and his supply of
provisions was equally meagre. His plan of starting from Moreton Bay to
Port Essington differed considerably from Mitchell's proposed journey to
the Gulf from Fort Bourke, but although longer and more roundabout, it
would be a safer route for his little party to adopt, as they would keep
to the comparatively well-watered coastal lands. Leaving the Condamine,
he crossed the northern watershed, and struck the head of one of the main
tributaries of the Fitzroy River, which he named the Dawson. Thence he
passed westward into a region of fine pastoral country, which he named
the Peak Downs. Here he named the minor waters of the Planet and the
Comet, and Zamia Creek. On the 10th of January, 1845, he found the
Mackenzie River, and thence crossed on to and named the Isaacs, a
tributary of the Fitzroy coming from the north. This river they followed
up till they crossed the watershed on to the head waters of the Suttor
River. They followed this stream down until it brought them to the
Burdekin, Leichhardt's most important discovery.

Up the valley of this river they travelled, until they reached the head,
where, at the Valley of Lagoons, they crossed the watershed on to the
waters of the Gulf of Carpentaria. Here, for some unknown reason,
Leichhardt went far too much to the north, which necessitated a long
detour around the south-eastern corner of the Gulf. It was while they
were retracing a southern course along the eastern shore of the Gulf that
the naturalist Gilbert met his fate. Up to this time they had been so
little troubled with the natives that they had ceased almost to think of
a possible hostile encounter with them. This fancied immunity was broken
in a most tragic manner on the night of the 28th of June, 1845. It was a
calm, quiet evening, and the party were peacefully encamped beside a
chain of shallow lagoons. The doctor was thinking out his plans for the
next few days, Gilbert was planting a few lilies he had gathered, as was
his nightly habit when any flowers were available. Roper and the others
were grouped around the fire warding off the attacks of the mosquitoes.
Suddenly about seven o'clock a shower of spears was thrown among the
unarmed men, and Gilbert was almost instantly killed, Roper and Calvert
being seriously wounded. The whites rushed for their guns, but
unfortunately not one weapon was ready capped, and it was some time
before any of them could be discharged, when a volley caused the blacks
to scamper off. It is most astonishing that the whole of the members of
the party were not cut down in one dreadful massacre.

The body of the murdered naturalist was buried at the fatal camp, but the
grave was left unmarked, and a large fire built and consumed above it to
hide all traces of it from the natives. The river where this sad mishap
occurred now bears the name of Gilbert.

From the scene of this tragedy, which ordinary precautions would have
avoided, the party proceeded around the southern shore of the Gulf,
keeping a short distance above tidal waters; but their progress was slow
and painful on account of the two wounded men. Most of Leichhardt's names
are still retained for the rivers of the Gulf which he crossed, the
Leichhardt itself being an exception. This river he mistook for the
Albert, so named by Captain Stokes during his marine survey of the north
coast. A.C. Gregory rectified the error in after years, and gave the
river the name of the lost explorer for whom he was then searching. With
fast-dwindling supplies, lagging footsteps, and depressed spirits, the
expedition travelled slowly on to the south-west corner of the Gulf
where, in crossing a large river, the Roper, four of the horses were
drowned in consequence of the boggy banks. This misfortune so limited
their means of carriage that Leichhardt had to sacrifice the whole of his
botanical collection. On the 17th of December, 1845, the worn-out
travellers, nearly destitute of everything, reached the settlement of
Victoria, at Port Essington, and the long journey of fourteen months was
over.

This expedition, successful as it was in opening up such a large area of
well-watered country, attracted universal attention both to the
gratifying economic results and to the hitherto untried leader. He was
enthusiastically welcomed back to Sydney, and dubbed by journalists the
prince of explorers. But what captivated public fancy was a certain halo
of romance that clung to the journey on account of the reported death of
Leichhardt, a report that gained general credence. His unexpected return
invested him with a romance which -- fortunately for his reputation --
the total and absolute disappearance of himself and company in 1848 has
but the more richly . Enthusiastic poets gush forth in song, and
a more substantial reward was raised by public and private subscriptions
and shared among the expedition in due proportions.

Encouraged by these encomiums on his success, and perhaps a little
intoxicated by the general acclamation, Leichhardt now conceived the
ambitious idea of traversing the continent from the eastern to the
western shore; keeping as far as possible on the same parallel of
latitude. This was a bold project, coming as it did so soon after Sturt
had returned to Adelaide from his excursion into the interior with a
terrible tale of thirst and suffering. But this time the hero of the hour
experienced no difficulty in obtaining funds and other necessary aids.
The party, when organised, travelled from the Hunter River to the
Condamine, taking with them their outfit of mules, cattle, and goats.
When the expedition departed from Darling Downs, they numbered seven
white men and two natives, with 270 goats, 180 sheep, 40 bullocks, 15
horses, and 13 mules. There were besides an ample outfit and provisions
calculated to last the explorers on a two years' journey; for it was
estimated that the expedition would be absent from civilisation for that
time.

Instead of setting out westwards from the initial point in a direction
where Leichhardt could reasonably expect fair travelling country for some
distance, he proceeded along his old track north to the Mackenzie and
Isaacs Rivers. What induced him to adopt this course is uncertain. He
explained to one of his party that it was to verify some former
observations; or he may have had some dim notion that by keeping to the
tropical line he would gain some climatic assistance. Whatever the cause,
the result was disastrous. The wet season and monsoonal rains caught the
party amongst the sickly acacia scrubs of that region; and hemmed in by
mud and bog they lost their stock, consumed their provisions, and made no
progress. Henceforth the narrative is one of semi-starvation, varied by
gorging on the days when a beast was killed; and wrangles and quarrels,
in which the leader appeared in no amiable light. Medicine had been
omitted from the stores, and all the covering they had from the
torrential rains was provided by two miserable calico tents. The 6th day
of July found them back on Chauvel's station on the Condamine; a sad
contrast to the party which had aspired to cross the continent.

[Illustration. John Frederick Mann. Born 1819, died September 7th, 1907,
at Sydney. The last survivor of a Leichhardt expedition.]

The onus of this wretched failure Leichhardt tried to cast upon his
companions, upon whom he made many unjust aspersions. J.F. Mann, late of
the Survey Department of New South Wales, was one of the expedition, and
the last surviving member of any expedition connected with Leichhardt. He
wrote a booklet in which he vigorously defends his comrades and himself
against the unworthy slurs cast at them by Leichhardt. Amongst his papers
is a rough sketch from life of Leichhardt in bush costume.

On reaching the Condamine, Leichhardt was put into possession of the news
of Mitchell's return and of the discovery of the Barcoo. Being anxious to
examine the country lying between the upper Condamine and Mitchell's
latest track, he, in company with two or three of his late companions,
left Cecil Plains for that purpose; he went as far as the Balonne River,
crossed it and returned. This doubtless was in view of organising another
expedition, with which he evidently intended to start in another manner,
straight to the westward.

Still persisting and believing in his capability of leading an expedition
across the continent, and fearful that this ambitious project might be
forestalled, he now made strong and strenuous efforts to organise another
party. He succeeded at length, but the party was neither so well
provided, nor so large, nor composed of such capable men as the second.

In fact, very little is known of the members that composed it; the only
thing certain is that it was not at all adapted for the work that lay
before it. A few words of the Reverend W.W.B. Clarke, the well-known
geologist, have been many times quoted, and they convey about all that is
known of the personnel of the expedition:--

"The parties that accompanied Leichhardt were perhaps little capable of
shifting for themselves in case of any accident to their leader. The
second in command, a brother-in-law of Leichhardt, came from Germany to
join him before starting, and he told me, when I asked him what his
qualifications for the journey were, that he had been at sea and had
suffered shipwrecks, and was therefore well able to endure hardship. I do
not know what his other qualifications were."

The last sentence is very pregnant, and implies that a very poor opinion
of the men as experienced bushmen was entertained by those who saw them.

The lost expedition is supposed to have consisted of six whites and two
blacks; the names known being those of the doctor himself, Classen,
Hentig, Stuart, and Kelly. He had with him 12 horses, 13 mules, 50
bullocks, and 270 goats; beside the utterly inadequate allowance of 800
pounds of flour, 120 pounds of tea, some sugar and salt, 250 pounds of
shot, and 40 pounds of powder. His last letter is dated the 3rd of April,
1848, from McPherson's station on the Cogoon, but in it he speaks only of
the country he has passed through, and nothing of his intended route.
Since the residents of this then outlying station lost sight of him, no
sure clue as to the fate of him and his companions has ever come to
light. The total evanishment, not alone of the men, but of the animals --
especially the mules and the goats -- is one of the strangest mysteries
of our mysterious interior. Thirst probably caused the death of the
animals, and in that case they would have died singly and apart, and
their remains would in after years elude attention. A similar fate
probably befel the men.

Rumour has always been rife as to the locality of Leichhardt's death, and
suggestions the most hopelessly unlikely and inconsistent have been put
forward and seriously considered. At the same time, the only two reliable
marks, undoubtedly genuine and fitting in in every way with Leichhardt's
projected course of travel, have been neglected.

Leichhardt started from McPherson's station on the Cogoon, now perhaps
better known as Muckadilla Creek. There was a rumour, never
authenticated, that after he had proceeded nearly one hundred miles he
sent back a man with a report that he had passed through some splendid
pastoral land, but this is not at all likely to be true. The first
indication of him is then met with on the Barcoo (Victoria) whereon A.C.
Gregory, in charge of the Leichhardt Search Expedition, in 1858, found
his marked tree and other indications:--

"Continuing our route along the river (latitude 24 degrees 35 minutes;
longitude 36 degrees 6 minutes), we discovered a Moreton Bay ash, about
two feet in diameter, marked with the letter L on the east side, cut
through the bark about four feet from the ground, and near it the stumps
of some small trees that had been cut with a sharp axe, also a deep notch
cut in the side of a sloping tree, apparently to support the ridge-pole
of a tent, or some similar purpose; all indicating that a camp had been
established here by Leichhardt's party. No traces of stock could be
found; this however is easily accounted for, as the country had been
inundated last season."

There can be little doubt about the authenticity of the trace, and it at
once does away with the truth of the stories told to Hovenden Hely by the
blacks as to Leichhardt's murder on the Warrego River. Gregory then went
up the Thomson River but found no other mark, and returning followed that
river and Cooper's Creek down to South Australia. This camp of
Leichhardt's is easily understood. Then follows an account of the other
found by the same explorer in 1856, during an earlier expedition. This
was on the upper waters of Elsey Creek, and his description of it runs as
follows:--

"The smoke of bush fires was visible to the south, east, and north, and
several trees cut with iron axes were noticed near the camp. There were
also the remains of a hut, and the ashes of a large fire, indicating that
there had been a party encamped there for several weeks; several trees
from six to eight inches in diameter had been cut down with iron axes in
fair condition, and the hut built by cutting notches in standing trees
and resting a large pole therein for a ridge. This hut had been burnt
apparently by the subsequent bush fires; and only some pieces of the
thickest timber remained unconsumed. Search was made for marked trees,
but none were found, nor were there any fragments of iron, leather, or
other material of the equipment of an exploring party, or of any bones of
animals other than those common to Australia. Had an exploring party been
destroyed there, there would most likely be some indications, and it may
therefore be inferred that the party proceeded on its journey. It could
not have been a camp of Leichhardt's in 1845, as it is 100 miles
south-west of his route to Port Essington, and it was only six or seven
years old, judging by the growth of the trees; having subsequently seen
some of Leichhardt's camps on the Burdekin, Mackenzie, and Barcoo Rivers,
a great similarity was observed in the mode of building the hut, and its
relative position with regard to the fire and water supply, and the
position with regard to the great features of the country was exactly
where a party going westward would first receive a check from the
waterless tableland between the Roper and Victoria Rivers, and would
probably camp and reconnoitre before attempting to cross to the
north-west coast."

Leichhardt's track, as far as the Elsey, seems tolerably plain and
entirely in accordance with the character of the man and his intentions.
Forced to retreat from the dry country west of the Thomson, he probably
followed that river to its head, and crossing the main watershed regained
and re-pursued his track of 1845, as far as the Roper, of which river
Elsey Creek is a tributary. When he left the camp seen by Gregory, he
would, going either south-west or west, find himself in the driest of dry
country, which is even now but sparsely settled. And there came the end.

Long before the last water they carried with them had been used, their
beasts would have all died, left here and there wherever they fell. So
too would the men. Differences of opinion would have arisen, and some
would have been for turning back, and others for keeping on. Some would
have persisted in changing the direction they were following, and, led on
by some mad delirious fancy in seeing water indications in some rock or
bush, would have separated and staggered on to die alone. Their baggage
would have been left strewn over the desert where it had been abandoned,
and the men, one by one, would have shared the same fate. Into such a
waterless and barren region the blacks would seldom penetrate, and what
with the sun, hot winds, bush fires, and sand-storms, all recognisable
traces would soon have been effaced.

With regard to the notched tree to support a ridge-pole, which feature
was noticed by Gregory in both camps, J.F. Mann, of whose companionship
with Leichhardt mention has already been made, often stated that he would
recognise Leichhardt's camps anywhere by this singular device for
supporting the ridge of a tent.



CHAPTER 9. EDMUND B. KENNEDY.

[Illustration. Edmund B. Kennedy.]


9.1. THE VICTORIA AND COOPER'S CREEK.

E.B. Kennedy, whose tragic death ineffaceably branded the Cape York
blacks as remorselessly cruel, came to Australia early in life, and was
appointed a Government surveyor in 1840. His first experience as an
explorer was gained when as Assistant-Surveyor and second in command he
accompanied his chief on the last expedition that Mitchell led into the
interior. On this occasion he remained in charge of the camp formed at
St. George's Bridge, and then conducted part of the expedition on to the
Maranoa, where he rejoined the Major, and remained in charge whilst
Mitchell made his exploration westward.

On Mitchell's return to Sydney, there being some doubt as to the point of
outflow of the newly-discovered Victoria River, Kennedy was sent out with
a small party to follow the river down and ascertain its course and
destination.

On the 13th of August, he reached Mitchell's lowest camp on the Victoria
River, and started to trace the river down. During the first day's
journey he came across some natives, from one of whom he learnt that the
aboriginal name of the river was the Barcoo. Two days afterwards he
observed with some anxiety that the trend of the valley was inclining
from northwards towards the point whence Sturt had turned back from his
upward course on Cooper's Creek. As the second part of his instructions
was to find a practicable road to the Gulf, he feared that he would not
have sufficient provisions to fulfil both duties. He therefore made a
stationary camp, and with two men proceeded down the river. But after two
days' journey, he found that the Barcoo turned to the west, and even
north of west. The channel now showed large reaches of water within its
confines, some of them more than one hundred yards in width. This induced
him to alter his plan, and he thought he should follow such an important
watercourse and ascertain its outflow. He therefore turned back for the
remainder of his party. On the 30th of August he discovered a large river
coming from the North-North-East, and he named it the Thomson. With the
usual inconsistency of Australian inland rivers, the Thomson soon
presented another and different scene. The great pastoral stretches of
the upper course were left behind, and were succeeded by flat and
inferior country intersected by sand-ridges. The course of the river
itself once more turned to the southward, and was but scantily watered.
Still Kennedy persevered until convinced that further progress must bring
him to Sturt's furthest on Cooper's Creek. The face of the land answered
to Sturt's description; and grass and feed both beginning to fail him,
Kennedy had to consider whether it was worth while risking the lives of
his men to confirm what was practically a certainty. At last vistas of
the desert, described by Sturt with such terrible fidelity, appeared
stretching away to the horizon, and Kennedy turned back, satisfied that
the Victoria River and Cooper's Creek were one and the same stream.

It was now Kennedy's intention to make an excursion towards the Gulf of
Carpentaria. On his way down, in order to travel lighter, he had buried a
large quantity of flour and sugar as well as his drays. When he arrived
at the cache of provisions on his way back, he found that the natives had
dug the rations up, and in mere wantonness had so mixed and scattered
them as to render them useless. A little further on, he was just in time
to save the carts, for an aboriginal was probing in the ground with a
spear to ascertain their whereabouts. During this excursion Kennedy
noticed that the blacks were given to "chewing tobacco in a green state;"
but the "tobacco" was, of course, the pituri plant, which they are
accustomed to masticate. By the time he reached the head of the Warrego,
Kennedy was too short of provisions to attempt his projected Gulf
expedition, and had to make homeward, but resolved to go down by that
river and ascertain whether it joined the Darling or flowed westward.

The Warrego dividing into many dry channels when they reached its lower
courses, the party struck eastward to the Culgoa, and reached that river
after a very distressing stage over dry country on which they lost six
horses from heat and thirst, whilst bringing the carts across it.

9.2. A TRAGIC EXPEDITION.

Kennedy's first experience of an independent exploring expedition in the
west was by no means a fitting prelude to the tragic journey he next
undertook. The same impulse that led to Mitchell's and Leichhardt's
northern journeys stimulated Kennedy to make his dangerous journey up the
eastern coast of the long peninsula that terminates in Cape York -- the
desire to find a road to the north coast, so that an easy chain of
communication should exist between the southern settlements and the far
north.

It was at the end of the month of May that Kennedy landed at Rockingham
Bay with his party of twelve men. He had started from Sydney in the
barque Tam o' Shanter, which was convoyed by Captain Owen Stanley in the
Alligator. This was in 1848, the same fateful year that witnessed
Leichhardt's disappearance. A schooner was to meet the party on the
north, at Port Albany, where it was proposed to form a settlement should
the features of the peninsula warrant such an enterprise. In actual point
of distance the task was not great, being a land traverse of from three
to four hundred miles, allowing for deviations. But never were men in
Australia so dogged by disaster and beset by danger as were Kennedy and
his followers. Opposed by country as yet unfamiliar to them, they found
their onward path hindered by many totally unforeseen conditions. Ranges
and ravines clothed with an almost impenetrable jungle, which was
infested with the venomous leaves of the stinging tree and the hooked
spikes of the lawyer vine, confronted them. The land was densely
populated with the most savage and relentless natives on the continent,
who resented the invasion from the outset. Death tracked them steadily
throughout, and claimed ten out of the thirteen of the devoted party as
his victims.

The country through which their course lay is now dotted with
mining-fields and townships, and fertile spaces of tilled tropical
plantations. The coast-line rich in harbours is the busy haunt of
steamers, and the narrow waterway between the mainland and the great
barrier reef the home of many lightships. But when Kennedy and his party
made their pioneer journey, the great desolation of the wilderness beset
them on every side from the land, whilst the sea off-shore held myriad
dangers.

Kennedy landed from the Tam o'Shanter at the little point that still
bears the jovial name, and bade farewell to Owen Stanley in good spirits,
and with no dread premonitions. He was fresh from the sun-scorched plains
of the interior, and would confidently confront whatever might lie before
him. Scrub and swampy country delayed him on his way to the higher land
at the foot of the range, where he had hoped to find better travelling
country; but the foothills were serried with ravines and gullies, and the
sides clothed with the ever-present jungle. The horses and sheep,
unaccustomed to the sour grasses of the coast lands of northern
Australia, pined and rapidly wasted away. Their troubles were augmented
by acts of annoyance, and on one unfortunate occasion, of open hostility
on the part of the blacks.

By the 18th of July, a little over six weeks after they had left
Rockingham Bay, the sheep had been reduced from one hundred to fifty, and
the horses began to fail so rapidly that they had to abandon the carts,
while the men were becoming completely exhausted from the endless cutting
and hacking of the scrub. At length they surmounted the range, the
backbone of the peninsula, and on the western <DW72>, amid the heads of
the rivers flowing into the Gulf of Carpentaria, made better progress.
Kennedy, however, adhered to his instructions to examine the eastern
<DW72>, and recrossed the watershed, where troubles again came thick upon
him. One after another the horses began to give in, and owing to the
storekeeper's mismanagement, they were nearly out of provisions. On the
9th of December they reached Weymouth Bay, and Kennedy determined to form
a stationary camp, and leaving there the main body of his men, push
forward to Port Albany, whence he would send back the schooner that was
awaiting them with relief. He selected seven men whom he left in charge
of Carron, the naturalist, and with three men and the heroic Jacky-Jacky,
an aboriginal of New South Wales, he pushed on -- to his death.

Before the departure the last sheep was slaughtered, and its lean and
miserable carcase shared between the two parties; and with Carron,
Kennedy ascended a hill that commanded a prospect of the country lying to
the north, but could see nothing but rugged hills and black scrub. He
confided only to Carron his gloomy foreboding that he would never reach
Albany, so disheartened were both the men by the prospect. And throughout
those long weeks of starvation that ensued, Carron refrained from
crushing all hope in his comrades by communicating to them Kennedy's
despair of relief.

For three weeks Kennedy struggled on, cutting his path through the scrub,
and, with dwindling strength, clambering across the spurs of the range.
For the story of his struggles and eventual death Australia has had to
rely on the report of the only survivor, the faithful Jacky-Jacky. They
reached Shelburne Bay, where one of the men accidentally shot himself,
and became so weak from loss of blood that it was impossible for him to
move. As another man, Luff, was sick, Kennedy left the third man, Dunn,
to attend to his two comrades, and pushed on alone with the native boy.
He had actually gained the Escape River, within sight of Albany Island,
when his fate overtook him, and, surrounded by the blood-thirsty foes who
had so long and persistently hung upon his footsteps, he fell at last
beneath their spears.

The story is best told in Jacky's own words, although it has been often
repeated. They had come across some natives whom Kennedy was inclined to
trust, but of whom Jacky was suspicious, and that night they camped in
the scrub, foodless and fireless.

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

"The blacks did not know where we slept, as we did not make a fire. We
both sat up all night. After this daylight came and I fetched the horses
and saddled them. Then we went a good way up the river, and then we sat
down a little while, and then we saw three blackfellows coming along our
track, and then they saw us, and one ran back, as hard as he could run,
and fetched up plenty more, like a flock of sheep almost. I told Mr.
Kennedy to put the saddles on the horses and go on, and the blacks came
up and they followed us all day. All along it was raining. I now told him
to leave the horses and come on without them, that horses made too much
track. Mr. Kennedy was too weak, and would not leave the horses. We went
on this day until the evening; raining hard and the blacks followed us
all day, some behind, some planted before. In fact, blackfellows all
round following us. Now we went into a little bit of scrub, and I told
Mr. Kennedy to look behind always. Sometimes he would do so, and
sometimes he would not do so to look out for the blacks. Then a good many
blackfellows came behind in the scrub and threw plenty of spears, and hit
Mr. Kennedy in the back first. Mr. Kennedy said to me: 'Oh Jacky! Jacky!
shoot 'em! shoot 'em!' then I pulled out my gun and fired and hit one
fellow all over the face with buck-shot. He tumbled down and got up again
and again, and wheeled right round, and two blacks picked him up and
carried him away. They went a little way and came back again, throwing
spears all round, more than they did before -- very large spears.

[Illustration. Wild Blacks of Cape York signalling.]

"I pulled out the spear at once from Mr. Kennedy's back, and cut the jag
with Mr. Kennedy's knife. Then Mr. Kennedy got his gun and snapped, but
the gun would not go off. The blacks sneaked all around by the trees, and
speared Mr. Kennedy again, in the right leg above the knee a little, and
I got speared in the eye, and the blacks were now throwing always, never
giving over, and shortly again speared Mr. Kennedy again in the right
side. There were large jags in the spears, and I cut them off and put
them in my pocket. At the same time we got speared the horses got speared
too, and jumped and bucked about and got into the swamps. I now told Mr.
Kennedy to sit down while I looked after the saddle-bags, which I did,
and when I came back again I saw the blacks along with Mr. Kennedy. I
then asked him if he saw the blacks with him. He was stupid with the
spear wounds, and said 'No'; I then asked him where was his watch? I saw
the blacks taking away watch and hat as I was returning to Mr. Kennedy.
Then I carried Mr. Kennedy into the scrub. He said, 'Don't carry me a
good way.' Then Mr. Kennedy looked this way, very bad (Jacky rolling his
eyes). I asked him often, 'are you well now?' and he said -- 'I don't
care for the spear wound in my leg, Jacky, but for the other two spear
wounds in my side and back, and I am bad inside, Jacky!' I told him
blackfellow always die when he got spear wound in there (the back). He
said: 'I am out of wind, Jacky.' I asked him: 'Are you going to leave
me?' And he said, 'Yes, my boy; I am going to leave you; I am very bad,
Jacky, you take the books, Jacky, to the Captain, but not the big ones;
the Governor will give you anything for them.' I then tied up the papers.
He then said: 'Jacky, give me paper and I will write.' I gave him pencil
and paper, and he tried to write, and he then fell back and died, and I
caught him in my arms and held him; and I then turned round myself and
cried. I was crying a good while until I got well; that was about an
hour, and then I buried him.

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

At the southern entrance of Albany Pass, one of the most picturesque
spots of the east coast of Australia, the schooner Ariel lay at anchor,
awaiting, day after day, some signal to indicate the arrival of the
expected Kennedy. One day the look-out man announced that there was an
aboriginal on the mainland making urgent signals to the schooner. There
was nothing unusual in this, for during the delay and tedious waiting,
the blacks had constantly been seen making gestures on the shore. An
examination through the glass, however, showed the people on the Ariel
that this blackfellow was making such vehement and persistent signals
that it was thought worth while to send the boat in to investigate
affairs.

No wonder the poor fellow's signals were urgent and vehement; he was
Jacky-Jacky, who, thirteen days after Kennedy's death, by devious
twistings and windings, occasionally climbing a tree in the hope to catch
a glimpse of the schooner, and existing on roots and vermin, had at last
reached the goal. But when he stood prominently on the shore to signal to
the schooner, his relentless pursuers sighted him, and his frantic signs
were for rescue from imminent peril. The boat's crew fortunately
recognised the emergency, and a smart race ensued between them and the
natives. The rescuers won, and Jacky-Jacky was saved to tell his
melancholy story.

There was no time lost on board the Ariel. There were three men who might
be still alive at Shelburne Bay, and eight more starving at Weymouth Bay.
Kennedy was dead; their duty, and urgent duty it was, lay with the
living. At once the schooner commenced to beat down the coast, and at
Shelburne Bay they landed but failed to find the camp. But they seized a
native canoe which bore sufficient evidence that the men had been
murdered. Clearly time must not be wasted in inflicting punishment;
according to Jacky's account, the men at Weymouth Bay were absolutely
starving, if they had not already succumbed to famine.

After their leader had left Weymouth, Carron had shifted the camp on to
the nearest hill, as it was more open and less exposed to the treacherous
attacks of the natives. A flagstaff was erected on the crest, in view of
the Bay. Then the party had only to sit down and await the coming of the
grim shadow following them through the jungle to strike them with the
death chill. They had two skeletons of horses and two gaunt dogs, and a
tiny remnant of flour. The men gave themselves up to moody despondency.
"Wearied out by long endurance of trials that would have shaken the
courage and tried the fortitude of the strongest," says Carron in his
diary, "a sort of sluggish indifference prevailed that prevented the
development of those active energies which were necessary to support us
in our present critical position."

One of the two horses was killed, and its scanty flesh, cut into strips,
was dried in the sun and smoke. This, the most repellant, sapless food to
be found in the world, had been their diet for some time. Douglas was the
first to die. The survivors were still strong enough to give him burial.
In a few days Taylor followed him and was interred by his side. The
blacks threatened them continually, though at times they would lay down
their arms and bring pieces of fish and turtle into the camp; but this
only the better to spy out their weakness. Carpenter was the next to
succumb, and on the 1st of December they were doomed to drink their
bitterest cup to the dregs. They had killed the remaining horse, but the
monsoonal rains descended, and in the steamy atmosphere the meat turned
putrid. Torn with anxiety, Carron was dejectedly mounting the look-out to
the flagstaff when he caught sight of a vessel beating into the Bay. The
sudden change from despair to relief was overwhelming. Kennedy must have
reached Port Albany, and had doubtless sent the Bramble to rescue them.
With eager, tremulous hands he hoisted a pre-arranged signal to warn them
against the blacks. Darkness fell and they kept a fire burning, and fired
off rockets, and when daylight came and a boat was lowered from the
schooner, they felt no misgivings. Time passed, and Carron again ascended
the look-out. What he saw nearly blasted his eyesight. The schooner was
standing out to sea; he was just in time to see her round the point and
disappear.

They strove to persuade themselves that it was not the Bramble, a relief
schooner that was supposed to cruise along the coast. But it assuredly
had been the Bramble, and her men had not seen the signals against the
gloomy background of scrub and hills. They knew nothing of Kennedy's
death, nor of Carron's plight. The agony of this disappointment must have
been more bitter than death. Mitchell was the next to die, and the
survivors were too weak to give him burial. Then Niblett and Wall
departed, but on the last day of the year relief came to the remaining
two.

Some natives suddenly brought Carron a dirty note, to say that help was
coming, and he saw by their gestures that there was a vessel in the bay.
He scribbled a note in reply, but they refused to take it, and began to
crowd into the camp and handle their weapons. They were not going to be
baulked of their prey. At the very moment when they were poising their
spears, the relief party arrived. Four brave men -- Captain Dobson of the
Ariel, Dr. Vallack, Barrett a sailor, and the eager Jacky-Jacky -- had
forced their way through mangroves and hostile threatening natives to
snatch them from their doom.

Nothing could be carried away but the two famished men, and they were
helped down to the boat without coming into active hostilities. Thus
ended the most disastrous expedition in Australian annals. Kennedy's body
was never recovered, nor was the fate of the men at Shelburne Bay
revealed. The bodies at Weymouth Bay were re-buried on Albany Island, and
a tablet was erected in memory of Kennedy, in St. James's Church, Sydney.



CHAPTER 10. LATER EXPLORATION IN THE NORTH-EAST.


10.1. WALKER IN SEARCH OF BURKE AND WILLS.

Frederick Walker commenced his bush career as a pioneer squatter in the
districts of Southern Queensland, but afterwards made his residence near
the centre, where he joined the Native Police. He had long bush
experience, was a firm believer in the training of the natives in
quasi-military duty, and had taken a prominent part in the formation of
the Queensland Native Police. On this relief expedition, the party was
composed almost entirely of Native Police troopers under his leadership.

On receiving his commission, he pushed rapidly out to the Barcoo, and,
near the Thomson River, came upon another tree marked L. This might have
been made by Leichhardt. He ascended the main watershed, and crossed it
coming down on to the head of the Flinders River. Here he experienced
many hindrances arising from the rough basaltic nature of the country
that borders the northern head-waters of that river. When he finally
debouched upon the wide western plains, he crossed the Flinders, without
recognising it as the main branch, in the search for which he went on
northward. Approaching the Gulf of Carpentaria, he had several encounters
with the aboriginals. As he neared the coast, the bend of the Flinders
brought that river again across his route, and it was then that he came
on some camel tracks, which assured him that the missing party, the
object of his search, had at any rate reached the Gulf safely. On his
outward way Walker may be said to have pursued a course parallel with
that of the Flinders, a little further to the northward.

He pushed on to the Albert River, to replenish his provisions at the
depot provided for the use of the various relief parties. He arrived
there safely, after having had two more skirmishes with the blacks on the
way. He reported the finding of the camel tracks, and having come to the
conclusion that Burke and Wills had probably made for the Queensland
settlements, he decided to follow them thither. He traced out a tributary
of the Flinders, the Saxby, on his homeward route, but saw no more of the
camel tracks, and finally crossed the water-shed on to the rough basaltic
country at the head of the Burdekin. Here his horses suffered so severely
from the rugged nature of the country, that by the time they reached
Strathalbyn, a station on the lower Burdekin, the whole of the party were
well-nigh horseless, as well as almost out of provisions.

Walker was afterwards engaged by the Queensland Government to mark out a
course for a telegraph line between Rockingham Bay and the mouth of the
Norman River in Carpentaria. This work he carried out successfully; but
when at the Gulf, he was attacked by the prevalent malarial fever, and
died there.

10.2. BURDEKIN AND CAPE YORK EXPEDITIONS.

The main portion of eastern Australia was now fairly well known; it had
been crossed from south to north, and from east to west, and it was only
the elongated spur of the Cape York peninsula that stood in urgent need
of detailed exploration.

Amongst what may be called the minor pastoral expeditions of that period,
was one conducted by G.E. Dalrymple, who penetrated the coastal country
north of Rockhampton as far north as the Burdekin. In 1859 he followed
that river down to the sea, and found that the mouth had been located
further to the south than was really the case. His party then struck
inland, examined the head of that river, and found the Valley of Lagoons.
The following year another party, consisting of Messrs. Cunningham,
Somer, and three others, explored the tributaries of the Upper Burdekin,
and opened up several good tracts of pastoral country. The permanent
running stream which flows through a rugged wall of basalt into an
ana-branch of the Burdekin, was first noticed by this party, and called
Fletcher's Creek.

[Illustration. Frank L. Jardine.

Illustration. Alec W. Jardine.]

Frank and Alec Jardine jointly led up the Cape York Peninsula an
expedition that in its hardships and dangers emulated that of Kennedy's,
but fortunately without a tragic ending. The year 1863 was one of great
activity in the northern part of eastern Australia. At Cape York, the
Imperial Government had, on the recommendation of Sir George Bowen, the
first governor of Queensland, decided to form a settlement. John Jardine,
the police magistrate of the central town of Rockhampton, was selected to
take charge, and a detachment of marines was sent out to be stationed
there. Somerset, the new settlement, was formed on the Albany Pass,
opposite to the island of the same name. Jardine was to proceed by sea to
his new sphere of office, but, anticipating the want of fresh meat at the
proposed station, he entered into an arrangement with the Government
whereby his two sons were to take a small herd of cattle thither
overland, and on the way make careful observations of the land through
which they were to pass. Somerset was situated near the scene of
Kennedy's death, and knowing what tremendous difficulties that explorer
had met with on the eastern shore, it was decided that the expedition
should attempt to follow the western shore through the unknown country
that faced the Gulf of Carpentaria. Both the Jardine brothers were quite
young men at the time when they started on their exceedingly adventurous
trip, which combined cattle-droving with exploration: Frank, the accepted
leader, being only twenty-two years old, and his brother Alexander but
twenty. Their father had come from Applegarth, in Dumfriesshire; they had
both been born near Sydney, and had been educated by private tutors and
at the Sydney Grammar School.

They took with them A.J. Richardson, a surveyor sent by the Government,
Scrutton, Binney, Cowderoy, and four natives. The stock consisted of
forty-two horses and two hundred and fifty head of cattle. The cheerful
acceptance of this hazardous enterprise by these youths was a fine
indication of adventurous spirit, and reflects great credit on their
courage and the courage of the native-born. The fate of the last explorer
who dared to face the perils of the Peninsula would have deterred any but
the boldest from taking up his task.

Before the final start from Carpentaria Downs, then the furthest station
to the north, supposed to be situated on Leichhardt's Lynd River, Alec
Jardine made a trip ahead in order to secure knowledge of an available
road for the cattle, and save delay in the earlier stages of the main
journey. On this preliminary observational excursion, he followed the
presumed Lynd down for nearly 180 miles, until he was convinced that
neither in appearance, direction, nor position did it correspond with the
river described by Leichhardt. On the subsequent journey with the cattle,
this conviction was found to be in accordance with fact, for the stream
was then proved to be a tributary of the Gilbert, now known as the
Einnesleigh.

On the 11th of October the final start was made, and the party commenced
a journey seldom equalled in Australia for peril and adventure. The head
of the Einnesleigh was amongst rough ranges, and on the 22nd of the month
they halted the cattle while they conducted another search for the
invisible Lynd. They found other good-sized creeks, but no Lynd, nor did
they ever see it. They afterwards found that, owing to an error in the
map they had with them, the Lynd was placed 30 miles out of position. A
misfortune happened at the outset of their expedition. In the morning a
large number of horses were missing. Leaving some of the party to stay
behind and look for them, the two brothers and the remainder went on with
the cattle. On the second day they arrived at a large creek, without
having been overtaken by the party with the missing horses and the
pack-horses. After an anxious day spent in waiting, Alec Jardine started
back to find out the cause of the delay. He met the missing party, who
were bringing bad news with them. Through carelessness in allowing the
grass round the camp to catch fire, half of their rations and nearly the
whole of their equipment had been burnt. In addition, one of the most
valuable of their horses had been poisoned. This terrible misfortune,
coming at such an early stage of their journey when they had all the
unknown country ahead of them, seriously imperilled the success of their
undertaking. But there was nothing to do but to bear it with what
equanimity they could muster.

The Cape York natives now seemed to rejoice that they had another party
of white men to dog to death. Once about twenty of them appeared about
sundown and boldly attacked the camp with showers of spears. Two days
afterwards, they surprised the younger Jardine when alone, and he had to
fight hard for his life. The creek they had been following down led them
on to the Staaten River, where the blacks succeeded in stampeding their
horses, and it was days before some of them were recovered.

On the 5th of December, they left this ill-omened river, and steered due
north. Bad luck still haunted them; tortured by flies, mosquitoes, and
sand-flies, their horses scattered and rambled incessantly. While the
brothers were absent, searching one day for the horses, the party at the
camp allowed the solitary mule to stray away with its pack on. The mule
was never found again, and it carried with it, in its pack, some of their
most necessary articles, reducing them nearly to the same state of
deprivation as their determined enemies, the aboriginals. Two more horses
went mad, through drinking salt water; one died, and the other was so ill
that he had to be abandoned. On the 13th of December they reached the
Mitchell River, not without having had another hot battle with the
blacks, who followed them day after day, watching for every opportunity
and displaying the same relentless hostility that they had formerly shown
to Kennedy. Whilst the party were on the Mitchell, the natives mustered
in force and fell upon the explorers with the greatest determination.
After a severe contest, in which heavy loss had been inflicted upon the
savages, they sullenly and reluctantly retired. From what was afterwards
gathered from the semi-civilised natives about Somerset, these tribes
followed the Jardines for nearly 400 miles. This perseverance and
inappeasable enmity had been equalled before only by the Darling natives.
It can be imagined how these incessant attacks, combined with the
harassing nature of the country, gave the party all they could do to hold
their own, and but for the prompt and plucky manner in which the attacks
were met, not one of them would have survived.

After crossing the Mitchell, steering north, they got into poor country,
thinly-grassed and badly-watered, with the natives still hanging on their
flanks. On the 28th of December, the blacks began to harass the horses,
and another hard struggle took place. Storms of rain now set in, and they
had to travel through dismal tea-tree flats, with the constant
expectation of being caught by a flood in the low-lying country.

In January, they had a gleam of hope. On the 5th they came to a
well-grassed valley, with a fine river running through it, which they
named the Archer. On the 9th they crossed another river, which they
supposed to be the one named the Coen on the seaward side. But once
across this river, troubles gathered thick again; the rain poured down
constantly, the country became so boggy that they could scarcely travel,
and to crown all their misfortunes, two horses were drowned when crossing
the Batavia, and six others were poisoned and died there.

Fate seemed now to have done her worst, and the explorers faced the
future manfully. Burying all that they could dispense with, they packed
all their remaining horses and started resolutely to finish the journey
on foot. On the 14th two more of their horses died, and the blacks once
more came up behind to reconnoitre. As may be imagined, the whites were
not in a patient humour, and this last skirmish was brief and severe.

On the 17th two more horses died from the effects of the poison plant.
Fifteen only were left out of the forty-two with which they had started.
They were now approaching the narrow point of the Cape, and found
themselves on a dreary waste of barren country whereon only heath grew,
and which was intersected with boggy creeks.

On the 10th of January, they caught a glimpse of the sea from the top of
a tree, and on the 20th they were in full view of it. As they went on,
they were entangled in the same kind of scrub that baffled Kennedy, and
at last on the 29th, after some days of scrub-cutting, it was determined
to halt the cattle, whilst the brothers should push on to Somerset in the
endeavour to find a more practicable track. In the tangled, scrubby
country through which they had passed, it had been difficult to form a
true conception of the distance, and their estimate of twenty miles for
the distance separating them from the settlement was much too short.

On the 30th of January, the two Jardines and their most trusted black
boy, Eulah, started to find the settlement. For a time they were hemmed
in by a bend of what they took to be the Escape River, but on getting
clear of it, they were surprised to come to another large and swollen
river, which apparently ran into the Gulf. This forced them to return.
After a few days' rest, they made a second vain attempt. Hemmed in by
impassable morasses and impenetrable thickets, in some places they were
cut off from approaching even the river, by formidable belts of
mangroves. In fact, the Jardine River, as it is now called, heads almost
from the eastern shore, from Pudding Pan Hill in fact, Kennedy's fatal
camp. It overlaps the Escape River, and after many devious windings and
twistings, flows across the Cape out on to the Gulf shore.

It was not until the end of February that, on the subsidence of some of
the flooded creeks, the brothers made a successful effort, and got into
somewhat better travelling country. The next morning they came across
some blacks who were eager to be on good terms, and hailed them to their
surprise with shouts of "Franco; Allico; Tumbacco". These cries had been
taught them by Mr. Jardine, who was getting anxious because of his sons'
delay, and had done all he could think of to help them. He had cut a
marked tree line, almost from sea to sea; and coached the local natives
up in a few English words, so as to be recognised as friends. This last
device succeeded admirably. From these newcomers, they selected three as
guides, and the following day reached the settlement.

The rest of the party and the stock were soon brought into Somerset,
where a cattle-station was formed. When we look back at the difficulties
that beset the path of this expedition, and the unforseen disasters that
befel them, one cannot help feeling the greatest admiration for the
leaders and their conduct. In spite of the numberless treacherous attacks
of the blacks to which they had been subjected, not a member of the band
had been lost. They had fought their way through the same species of
danger that had environed the unfortunate Kennedy, and had all lived to
tell the tale. The Royal Geographical Society rewarded the labours of the
two brothers by electing them Fellows of the Society, and by awarding
them the Murchison medal.

Frank Jardine was for some period Government Resident at Thursday Island,
whither the settlement has been removed; but of late he has resided at
his own station at Somerset, and engaged in pearl-shelling. Alec entered
the Queensland civil service, as Roads Engineer, and in that capacity did
much important work in the construction of the roads of that State. In
1871 and 1872, he designed and constructed the road and railway-bridge
over the Dawson River, and in 1890 he became Engineer-in-Chief for
Harbours and Rivers.

But the scrubby and hilly nature of the country on Cape York militated
against its speedy settlement, and it needed the lure of gold to induce
men to risk their lives in a land with such hostile inhabitants. In 1872
the Queensland Government decided upon another exploration of the neck of
land that forms the northern-most point of Australia. More than eight
years had elapsed since the Jardines had made their dashing journey; but
their report, coupled with Kennedy's fate, did not offer much temptation
to follow up their footsteps. There was, however, a tract of country near
the base of the Peninsula still comparatively unknown; and a party was
organised and placed under the leadership of William Hann. Hann was a
native of Wiltshire, who had come out to the south of Victoria with his
parents at an early age. He was afterwards one of the pioneer squatters
of the Burdekin, in which river his father was drowned. The object of the
trip was to examine the country as far as the 14th parallel South, with a
special view to its mineral resources. The discovery of gold having
extended so far north in Queensland had raised a hope that its existence
would be traced along the promontory. Hann had with him Taylor as
geologist, and Dr. Tate as botanist, the latter being a survivor of the
melancholy Maria expedition to New Guinea. Apparently his ardour for
exploration had not been cooled by the narrow escape he had then
experienced.

The party left Fossilbrook station on the creek of the same name, a
tributary of the Lynd, north of the initial point of the Jardine
expedition. Crossing much rugged and broken country, they found two
rivers running into the Mitchell, and named them the Tate and the Walsh.

From the Walsh, the party proceeded to the upper course of the Mitchell,
and crossing it, struck a creek, marked on Kennedy's map as "creek ninety
yards wide." This was named the Palmer, and here Warner, the surveyor
found traces of gold. A further examination of the river resulted in
likely-looking results being obtained; and the discovery is now a matter
of history, the world-wide Palmer rush to north Queensland being the
result in 1874.

On the 1st of September, Hann reached his northern limit, and the next
day commenced the ascent of the range dividing the eastern and western
waters. A few days afterwards, he sighted the Pacific at Princess
Charlotte Bay. From this point the party returned south, and came to a
large river which he called the Normanby, where a slight skirmish with
the natives occurred, the blacks having hitherto been on friendly terms.
While the men were collecting the horses in the morning, the natives
attempted to cut them off, each native having a bundle of spears. A few
shots at a long distance were sufficient to disperse them, and the affair
ended without bloodshed.

On the 21st of September, Hann crossed the historical Endeavour River,
and upon a small creek running into this inlet, he lost one of his horses
from poison. Below the Endeavour, the party encountered similar
difficulties to those that dogged poor Kennedy's footsteps --
impenetrable scrub and steep ravines. This went on for some days, and an
attempt to reach the seashore involved them in a perfect sea of scrub,
and necessitated the final conclusion that advance by white men and
horses was impossible. Hann had reluctantly to make up his mind to return
by the Gulf Coast, and abandon the unexplored ground to the south of him.

After many entanglements in the ranges, and confusion arising from the
tortuous courses of the rivers, the watershed was at last crossed, and on
the 28th of October they camped once more on the Palmer, whence they
safely returned along their outward course.

The gold discoveries on the Palmer, and the rush caused thereby, coming
soon after this expedition, led to a great deal of minor exploration done
under the guise of prospecting; and it is greatly to the work of
prospectors for gold that much of the knowledge of the petty details of
the geographical features of Australia is due. To the courage and
endurance of this class of settler, Australia owes a great debt, but
their labours are unrecorded and often forgotten.



PART 2. CENTRAL AUSTRALIA.

[Illustration. Statue of John McDouall Stuart, in the Lands Office,
Sydney.]


CHAPTER 11. EDWARD JOHN EYRE.


11.1. SETTLEMENT OF ADELAIDE AND THE OVERLANDERS.

The exploration of the centre of the continent was long retarded by the
difficult nature of the country -- by its aridity, its few
continuously-watered rivers, and the supposed horse-shoe shape of Lake
Torrens, which thrust its vast shallow morass across the path of the
daring explorers making north.

For most of us of the present day, to whom Lake Torrens is but a
geographical feature, it is hard to imagine the sense of awe it inspired
in the breasts of the South Australian settlers, who appeared to be cut
off completely from the north by its gloomy and forbidding environs of
salt and barrenness.

In 1836, Colonel Light surveyed the shores of St. Vincent's Gulf, and
selected the site of the city of Adelaide. Governor Hindmarsh and a
company of emigrants arrived soon afterwards, and the Province of South
Australia was proclaimed.

The very promising discoveries made to the south of the Murray by Major
Mitchell soon induced an invasion of adventurous pastoralists bringing
their stock from the settled parts of New South Wales.

Charles Bonney led the way across to the Port Phillip settlement in 1837
with sheep. G.H. Ebden accompanied him, and they were shortly followed by
many more: Hamilton, Gardiner, Langbourne, and others, whose names are
well-known in Australian history as the first Overlanders. Very shortly
this overlanding of stock was extended to the newly-founded city of
Adelaide, Charles Bonney and Joseph Hawdon being the first drovers on
this long journey. Their Adelaide journey was in fact an exploration
trip, and an important one, as they followed the bank of the Murray below
its junction with the Darling; this part of the river having been
followed down before only by Sturt, and then only by water.

It was in January, 1838, that Hawdon and Bonney left Mitchell's crossing
at the Goulburn River with cattle as pioneers on the overland route to
Adelaide. Unknown to them they were closely followed by E.J. Eyre, with
another mob of cattle. Eyre, as we shall afterwards see, was thrown out
of the race through trying to make a short cut to avoid the sweeping bend
of the river. Bonney and Hawdon crossed the Murray above the junction of
the Darling, and in places found the bed of the latter river dry. The
natives, strange to say, were quite friendly; perhaps they had taken to
heart the lesson Mitchell had read them. But their amiable demeanour did
not last long. Bonney and Hawdon were almost the last overlanding party
to proceed unmolested. Within a comparatively short time afterwards, an
incessant war began to be waged between the blacks and every Overlander
who passed down the Murray. It ended only with the sanguinary battle of
the Rufus. More fortunate than Sturt, Hawdon and Bonney were able to cut
off many of the wearisome bends that had so fatigued Sturt's crew. Sturt
had had to follow every turn and curve, whilst the Overlanders avoided
the bends of the Murray by following the native paths, which spared them
in some cases a journey of one or two days. It was while following a
native path that they discovered and named Lake Bonney. At last they
sighted the Mount Lofty ranges, and after some difficulty in getting
through some rough mallee-covered country, arrived at Adelaide, and
gladdened the residents with the prospect of roast beef. "Up to this
time," says Bonney in his diary, "they had been living almost exclusively
on kangaroo flesh." Eyre, whose name was afterwards so closely allied
with a famous story of thirst and hardship, narrowly escaped with his
life during his overlanding trip.

It was owing to a very natural mistake that Eyre was led astray. He
intended to try a straighter and shorter route than the one round the
Murray, and for a time got on very well, but coming across a tract of dry
country across which he could not take the cattle, he determined to
follow Mitchell's Wimmera River to the north, naturally thinking that it
would lead him easily to the Murray, and would probably prove to be
identical with the Lindsay, as marked on Sturt's chart. From Mitchell's
furthest point, he traced it a considerable distance to the north-west,
and at last found its termination in a large swampy lake, which he called
after the first Governor of South Australia, Lake Hindmarsh. From this
lake he could find no outlet, so taking with him two men, he made an
attempt to push through to the Murray, leaving his cattle to await him.
He found the country covered with an almost impenetrable mallee scrub,
and as there was neither grass nor water for the horses, he was forced to
retreat. He reached his camp after a weary struggle on foot, the horses
having died from thirst. Eyre was then compelled to return and gain the
bank of the Murray by the nearest available route. The bitter
disappointment of the trip was, that when forced to retreat by the
inhospitable nature of the country, he was but twenty-five miles from the
river.

Bonney, however, on another occasion, took a mob of cattle from the
Goulburn River to Adelaide in almost a direct line. In February 1839, he
left the Goulburn and steered a course for the Grampian Mountains, where
he struck the Wannon, and followed it down to the Glenelg. Here he came
upon one of the Henty stations, and was strongly advised not to persist
in his attempt. Captain Hart, who had been examining the country with the
same purpose in view as Bonney's, stated that it would be impossible to
take cattle through and turned back with his own to follow the old route
round the Murray bend. But Bonney was not to be daunted, and resolutely
pushed on west of the Glenelg. He discovered and named Lake Hawdon, and
also named two mountains, Mount Muirhead and Mount Benson. But at
Lacepede Bay his most serious troubles commenced. The party had pushed on
steadily to within forty miles of Lake Alexandrina when, in the middle of
a sandy desert, the working bullocks failed. Bonney divided his party,
and sending some of the men back to take the workers to a brackish pool
which they had passed, he himself with the stockmen and two black boys,
made a desperate effort to reach the Lake with the main mob. For two days
they pushed steadily on, travelling day and night, until men and beasts
were alike at their last gasp. Bonney then tried a desperate expedient:
"I then determined," he says, "as a last resource, to kill a calf and use
the blood to assuage our thirst. This was done, and though the blood did
not allay the pangs of thirst to any great extent, it restored our
strength very much."

The exhausted men then lay down to rest; but whilst they slept their
thirsty beasts scented a faint smell of damp earth on a wandering puff of
wind, and stampeded off to windward. Too weak to follow on at once, the
men, after an hour or two, staggered after them and tracked them to a
half-dry swamp, which still maintained a little mud and water. It was
brackish, but palatable enough for men in their exhausted condition, and
saved the lives of all. After some trouble in crossing the Murray, they
reached Adelaide in safety with the stock.

When the news of their arrival reached Port Phillip, many other
Overlanders were encouraged by Bonney's example to try the shorter route,
and the trade in shipping cattle across the straits from Tasmania almost
ceased.

Bonney had been born at Sandon, near Stafford, and educated at the
Grammar School, Rugby. He had come out to Sydney in 1834, as clerk to Sir
William Westbrooks Burton; but the love of adventure prevailed over his
other inclinations, and in 1837, he joined Ebden in squatting pursuits,
and eventually distinguished himself as one of the leading Overlanders.
He subsequently settled in South Australia. From 1842 to 1857 he was
Commissioner for Crown Lands, and he afterwards served the State as
manager for railways, and in other capacities. Subsequently he returned
to Sydney, where he died.

11.2. EYRE'S CHIEF JOURNEYS.

[Illustration. Edward John Eyre.]

Edward John Eyre was the son of the Reverend Anthony Eyre, vicar of
Hornsea and Long Riston, Yorkshire, and was born on August 14th, 1815. He
was educated at Louth and Sedburgh Grammar Schools. He came to Australia
in 1833, and immediately engaged in squatting pursuits, his enterprising
spirit constantly leading him beyond the pale of civilization, where his
natural love for exploration rapidly increased. His fortunes as an
Overlander have already been noticed. On the 5th August, 1839, he left
Port Lincoln, on the western shore of Spencer's Gulf, meaning to
penetrate as far as he could to the westward. Some time before he had
made an expedition to the north of Adelaide as far as Mount Arden, a
striking elevation to the North-North-East of Spencer's Gulf. He had
ascended this mount, and from the summit seen a depression which he took
to be a lake with a dry bed. This lake afterwards played an important
part in the history of South Australian settlement under the name of Lake
Torrens.

Eyre's party on his westward trip consisted of an overseer, three men,
and two natives. Twenty days after leaving Port Lincoln, they arrived at
Streaky Bay, not having crossed a single stream, rivulet, or chain of
ponds the whole distance of nearly three hundred miles. Three small
springs only had been found, and the country was covered with the gloomy
mallee and tea-tree scrub. Westward of Streaky Bay the country was still
found to be scrubby; so Eyre formed a camp, and taking only a black boy
with him, he forced a stubborn way onward, until he was within nearly
fifty miles of the western border of South Australia. To all appearance
the country was slightly more elevated than the level scrubby flats he
had been traversing, but there was neither grass nor water, and an
immediate return became necessary. Before he got back to Streaky Bay
camp, he nearly lost three of his horses.

Leaving Streaky Bay again, he went east of north to the head of Spencer's
Gulf, finding the country on this route a little better, but still devoid
of water, the party getting through, thanks only to a timely rainfall. On
the 29th of September, he came to his old camp at Mount Arden, where he
wrote:--

"It was evident that what I had taken on my last journey to be the bed of
a dry lake now contained water, and was of considerable size; but as my
time was very limited, and the lake at a great distance, I had to forego
my wish to visit it. I have, however, no doubt of its being salt, from
the nature of the country, and the fact of finding the water very salt in
one of the creeks draining into it from the hills. Beyond this lake
(which I distinguished with the name of Colonel Torrens) to the westward
was a low, flat-topped range, extending north-westerly, as far as I could
see."

From this point Eyre returned, pursuing his former homeward route.

[Map. Eyre's Explorations, 1840 and 1841.]

The main objects that now attracted the attention of the colonists of
South Australia were (1) discovery to the northward, regarding both the
extent of Lake Torrens and the nature of the interior; and (2) the
possibility of the existence of a stock route to the Swan River
settlement. Eyre, however, after his late experience, was convinced that
the overlanding of stock around the head of the Great Bight was
impracticable. The country was too sterile, and the absence of
water-courses rendered the idea hopeless. For immediate practical
results, beneficial to the growing pastoral industry, Eyre favoured the
extension of discovery to the north. This then was the course adopted,
and subscriptions were raised towards that end. Eyre himself provided
one-third of the needful horses and other expenses; and the Government
and colonists found the remainder.

Meantime it was found that the country in the immediate neighbourhood of
Port Lincoln was not altogether of the same wretched nature as that
traversed by Eyre between Streaky Bay and the head of Spencer's Gulf.
Captain Hawson, William Smith, and three others had made an excursion for
some considerable distance, and found well-grassed country and abundance
of water. From the point whence they turned back, they had seen a fine
valley with a running stream. This valley they named Rossitur Vale, after
Captain Rossitur of the French whaler Mississippi, the first foreign
vessel to enter Port Lincoln. Rossitur was the man who was destined later
to afford opportune aid to Eyre, without which he would never have
reached Albany.

On the 18th of June, 1840, Eyre's preparations were complete, and he left
Adelaide after a farewell breakfast at Government House, where Captain
Sturt presented him with a flag -- the Union Jack -- worked by some of
the ladies of Adelaide.

His party was not a large one considering the nature of the undertaking,
consisting as it did of six white men and two black boys. At Mount Arden
they formed a stationary camp. A small vessel called the Waterwitch was
sent to the head of Spencer's Gulf with the heaviest portion of their
supplies, and the party had three horse drays with them. Eyre trusted
that a range of hills, which he had seen stretching to the north-east,
would continue far enough to take him clear of the flat and depressed
country around Lake Torrens -- would, in fact, as he says, form a
stepping-stone into the interior.

Taking one black boy with him, Eyre made a short trip to Lake Torrens,
leaving the rest of the party to land the stores from the Waterwitch. He
found the bed of the lake coated with a crust of salt, pure white, and
glistening brilliantly in the sunshine. It yielded to the footstep, and
below was soft mud, which rapidly grew so boggy as to stop their
progress. In fact they had to return to the shore without being able to
ascertain whether there was any water on the surface or not. At this
point the lake appeared to be about fifteen or twenty miles across,
having high land bounding it on the distant west.

There seemed no chance of crossing the lake; and following its shore to
the north was impossible. There was neither grass nor water; the very
rainwater turned salt after lying a short time on the saline soil. The
only chance of success appeared to be to keep close to the north-eastern
range, which Eyre named the Flinders Range, trusting to its broken
gullies to supply them with some scanty grass and rainwater.

It was a cheerless outlook. On one side was an impassable lake of
combined mud and salt; on the other a desert of bare and barren plains;
whilst their onward path was along a range of inhospitable rocks.

"The very stones, lying upon the hills," says Eyre, "looked like scorched
and withered scoria of a volcanic region, and even the natives, judging
from the specimen I had seen to-day, partook of the general misery and
wretchedness of the place."

He directed his course to the most distant point of the Flinders Range,
but when he arrived there, he was obliged to christen it Mount Deception,
as his hope of finding water there was disappointed. Subsisting as well
as they could on rain puddles on the plains, Eyre and his boy searched
about for some time and at last found a permanent-looking hole in a small
creek. They then returned to the main party. Having concealed the
supplies landed from the cutter, Eyre sent the vessel back to Adelaide
with despatches, and moved the whole of the men out to the pool of water
that he had just found. From this vantage point he made various scouting
trips with the black boy, both to the eastward and westward of north. The
2nd of September found him on the summit of an elevation which he
appropriately named Mount Hopeless, gazing at the salt lake that he now
thought hemmed him in on three sides, even to the eastward. There was no
prospect visible of crossing the lake, which seemed persistently to defy
him, meeting him at every attempt with a barrier of stagnant mud. There
was nothing for it but to leave the interior unvisited by this route, and
to return to Mount Arden.

He divided his party, sending Baxter, the overseer, with most of the men
and stores straight across to Streaky Bay, where he had formerly made a
camp, while, with the remainder, he made his way to Port Lincoln. Having
abandoned his intention to penetrate to the interior on a northern
course, he now determined to push out westward, to King George's Sound,
finding, perhaps, on the way across, some inducement that would lead him
north.

At Port Lincoln he could not obtain the extra supplies he wanted without
sending to Adelaide; it was therefore the 24th of October when he finally
started for Streaky Bay. He found that Baxter had arrived there safely,
and was anxiously awaiting him.

He now camped for many weeks at Fowler's Bay, which was as far as the
cutter they now had, the Hero, could act as convoy, her charter not
extending beyond South Australian waters. The Waterwitch having sprung a
leak, the Hero had taken her place. During the time that they remained
there, Eyre made many journeys ahead to estimate his chances of getting
across the dry and barren country intervening between him and the Sound,
but the outlook was disheartening. He met some natives, who all assured
him that there was no water ahead; nor could he find any but some
brackish water obtained by digging in some sandhills. Worse than all, he
sacrificed three of his best horses during these fruitless attempts.

On the 25th of January, the Hero arrived with the oats and bran he had
sent back for. So poverty-stricken was the country that Eyre, in the
circumstances, resolved to send back nearly the whole of his expedition
by the vessel, and then, with only a small party, to push through to King
George's Sound or perish in the attempt.

Baffled successively to the north and to the west, Eyre had been put upon
his mettle, and he could not endure the thought of returning to Adelaide
a beaten man.

On the 31st of January the cutter departed, and Eyre, Baxter, and three
native boys, one of whom had come by the vessel on her last trip, were
left alone to face the eight hundred miles of desert solitude before
them. Some time was spent in making their final preparations, but on the
24th of February they had actually begun their journey when, to their
astonishment, they heard two shots fired at sea. Thinking that a whaler
had put in to the bay, Eyre turned back, but found the Hero again in port
with an urgent request from Adelaide to abandon his desperate project,
and return in the vessel. Upon a man of Eyre's temperament, this recall
could have only one effect, that of strengthening his resolve to proceed
westward at all hazards. He did not emulate Cortez by burning his ship
behind him, but he none the less effectually deprived himself of means of
retreat by dismissing the little Hero.

It was at the close of a hot summer when Eyre started, and the nature of
the sandy soil, combined with the low prickly scrub, soon began to hamper
their progress and render the lack of water especially severe. On one
side of them, flanking their line of march, were the cliffs of the Great
Bight, against which thundered the ever-restless southern rollers; on the
other there stretched a limitless expanse of dark, gloomy scrub. Their
only hope of relief was the faint chance of striking some native path
which might lead them to an infrequent soakage-spring. Even in these
depressing circumstances, Eyre seems to have found time to express his
admiration of Nature as she then revealed herself to him:--

"Distressing and fatal as the continuance of these cliffs might prove to
us, there was a grandeur and sublimity in their appearance that was most
imposing, and which struck me with admiration. Stretching out before us
in lofty, unbroken outline, they presented the singular and romantic
appearance of massy battlements of masonry, supported by huge buttresses,
glittering in the morning sun which had now risen upon them, and made the
scene beautiful even amidst the dangers and anxieties of our situation."

Five days of slow, dragging toil passed, until, with the horses at their
last gasp, and the men baked and parched, they found relief in some
native wells amongst the sandhills, at a point where the cliffs receded
from the sea.

After resting for some days at this camp, Eyre, misled by a report he had
obtained from the natives, again moved forward, taking with him but a
small supply of water. When he had discovered the blunder, he had gone
forty miles, and over this weary distance the horses had to return. It
was one of those mishaps that helped so much to wear out his unfortunate
animals.

Trouble after trouble now added itself to the burden of the explorers.
Another five days had passed without water, and their only hopes rested
upon some sandhills ahead, seen from the sea by Flinders, and marked by
him upon his chart. Retreat was impossible, and with their horses failing
one after another, they toiled on, desperate and well-nigh hopeless.
Eyre's anxiety was increased by Baxter's growing despondency and
pessimistic view of the issue of their enterprise. They were now
travelling along the sea beach, firm and hard, and ominously marked with
wreckage. Their last drop of water had been consumed, and that morning
they had been collecting dew from the bushes with a sponge, as a last
resource. When they reached the sand-dunes, they were almost too weak to
search for a likely place to dig for water; but making a final effort,
they discovered a patch whence, at six feet, they obtained a supply of
water.

It was now that Eyre approached the grand crisis of his adventurous
journey. According to the chart compiled by Flinders, he had another long
succession of cliffs to encounter, and he knew that where these cliffs
came in and sternly fronted the ocean, he need hope for no relief. Should
this space be happily surmounted by a desperate effort, he hoped to reach
a kindlier country. Disaffection appeared in his small camp. Baxter was
always suggesting and even urging a return. Perhaps some shadow of his
tragic fate overhung his spirit. The native boys were ripe for desertion,
and two of them did desert, only to return in a few days, starving, and
apparently repentant. Better for Eyre had they gone altogether. Amid such
discouraging surroundings did Eyre commence his last struggle with the
cliffs of the Great Bight.

The party had been tantalised by threatening clouds, which never broke in
rain. When on the third day they gathered once more, black and lowering.
Baxter urged Eyre to camp that night instead of pushing on, as rain
seemed certain, and the rock holes by which they were then passing were
well adapted to catch the slightest shower. Eyre consented, against his
better judgment. It was necessary to watch the horses lest they should
ramble too far, and Eyre kept the first watch. The night was cold, the
wind blowing a gale and driving the flying scud across the face of the
moon. The horses wandered off in different directions in the scrub,
giving the tired man much trouble to keep them together. About half-past
ten he drove them near the camp intending shortly to call the overseer to
relieve him.

Suddenly the dead stillness of the night and the wilderness was broken by
the report of a gun. Eyre was not at first alarmed, thinking it was a
signal of Baxter's to indicate the position of their camp. He called, but
received no answer. Hastening in the direction of the shot, he was met by
Wylie, the King George's Sound native, running towards him in great alarm
crying out: "Oh, massa, massa, come here!" and then losing speech from
terror. Eyre was soon at the camp, and one glance was enough to see that
his purpose must now be pursued grimly alone. Baxter, fatally wounded,
was stretched upon the ground, bleeding and choking in his last agony. As
Eyre raised his faithful companion in his arms he expired.

"At the dead hour of night, in the wildest and most inhospitable waste of
Australia, with the fierce wind raging in unison with the scene of
violence before me, I was left with a single native, whose fidelity I
could not rely on, and who, for aught I knew might be in league with the
other two, who, perhaps were even now lurking about to take my life, as
they had done that of the overseer."

On examining the camp, Eyre found that the two boys had carried off both
double-barrelled guns, all the baked bread and other stores, and a keg of
water. All they had left behind was a rifle, with the barrel choked by a
ball jammed in it, four gallons of water, forty pounds of flour, and a
little tea and sugar.

When he had time to think the matter over calmly, Eyre judged, from the
position of the body, that Baxter must have been aroused by the two
natives plundering the camp, and that, getting up hastily to stop them,
he was immediately shot. His first care was to put his rifle into
serviceable condition, and then, when morning broke, he hastened to leave
the ill-omened place. It was impossible to bury the body of his murdered
companion; one unbroken sheet of rock covered the surface of the country
for miles in every direction. Well might Eyre write, many years
afterwards:--

"Though years have now passed away since the enactment of this tragedy,
the dreadful horrors of that time and scene are recalled before me with
frightful vividness, and make me shudder even now when I think of them. A
lifetime was crowded into those few short hours, and death alone may blot
out the impressions they produced."

The two murderers followed the white man and boy during the first day,
evading all Eyre's attempts to bring them to close quarters, and calling
to the remaining boy, Wylie, who refused to go to them. They disappeared
the next morning, and must have died miserably of thirst and starvation.

Seven days passed without a drop of water for the horses, before they
reached the end of the line of cliffs, and providentially came to a
native well amid the sand dunes. From this point water was more
frequently obtained, and what wretched horses they had left showed feeble
symptoms of renewed life. At last, when their rations were completely
exhausted, they sighted a ship at anchor in Thistle Cove. She proved to
be the Mississippi, commanded by Captain Rossitur, the whaler already
referred to as the first foreign vessel to enter Port Lincoln; and once
more Eyre had to give thanks for relief at a most critical moment.

For ten days, in the hospitable cabin of the French whaler, he forgot his
sufferings, and regained some of his lost strength. Then, provided with
fresh clothes and provisions, and with his horses freshly-shod, Eyre
recommenced his weary pilgrimage, and, in July, 1841, arrived at his
long-desired goal, King George's Sound.

In reflecting upon this painful march of Eyre's round the Great Bight,
one feels an exceeding great pity that so much heroic suffering should
have been spent on the execution of a purpose the fulfilment of which
promised but little of economic value. The maritime surveys had fairly
established the fact that no considerable creek or river found its way
into the Southern Ocean, either in or about the Great Bight. Granted that
the outflow of some of our large Australian rivers had been overlooked by
the navigators, the local conditions were such as to render it virtually
certain that any such omission was not made along this part of the south
coast. Here there was to be found no fringe of low, mangrove-covered
flats, studded with inlets and saltwater creeks, thus masking the
entrance of a river. In some parts, a bold forefront of lofty precipitous
cliffs, in others a clean-swept sandy shore, alone faced the ocean.
Flinders, constantly on the alert as he was for anything resembling the
formation of a river-mouth, would scarcely have been mistaken in his
reading of such a coast-line. And the journey resulted in no knowledge of
the interior, even a short distance back from the actual coast-line. The
conjectures of a worn-out, starving man, picking his way painfully along
the verge of the beach, were, in this respect, of little moment.

Eyre, however, won for himself well-deserved honour for courage and
perseverance, in as exacting circumstances as ever beset a solitary
explorer. The picture of the lonely man in his plundered camp bending
over his murdered companion, separated from his fellow-men by countless
miles of unwatered and untrodden waste, appeals resistlessly to our
sympathies. But admiration of Eyre's good qualities has blinded many to
his errors of judgment.

He was accorded a generous public welcome on his return to Adelaide, and
was subsequently appointed Police Magistrate on the Murray, where his
inland experience and knowledge of native character were of great
service. When Sturt started on his memorable trip to the centre of
Australia, Eyre accompanied his old friend some distance. But his
activities were exercised in other fields than those of Australian
exploration during his after life. He was Lieutenant-Governor of the
Province of New Munster in New Zealand under Sir George Grey from 1848 to
1853, when that colony was divided into two provinces. He was afterwards
Governor-General of Jamaica, where the active and energetic measures he
took to crush the insurrection of 1865 incited a storm of opposition
against him in certain quarters, and he played a leading part in the
great constitutional cases of Philips v. Eyre, and The Queen v. Eyre. He
died at Steeple Aston, in Oxfordshire, in 1906.



CHAPTER 12. ATTEMPTS TO REACH THE CENTRE.

[Map (Diagram). Supposed Extent and Formation of Lake Torrens in 1846.]


12.1. LAKE TORRENS PIONEERS AND HORROCKS.

It will be remembered that Eyre, in 1840, reached, after much labour, an
elevation to the north-east, at the termination of the range which he had
followed, and had named it Mount Hopeless. From the outlook from its
summit he came to the conclusion that the lake was of the shape shown in
the diagram, completely surrounding the northern portion of the new
colony of South Australia. In fact, he formed a theory that the colony in
far distant times had been an island, the low-lying flats to the east
joining the plains west of the Darling. It was in 1843 that the
Surveyor-General of South Australia, Captain Frome, undertook an
expedition to determine the dimensions of this mysterious lake. He
reached Mount Serle, and found the dry bed of a great lake to the
eastward, as Eyre had described, but discovered that Eyre had made an
error of thirty miles in longitude, placing it too far to the east. He
got no further north. He thus confirmed the existence of a lake eastward
of Lake Torrens (now Lake Frome), but achieved nothing to prove or
disprove Eyre's theory of their continuity. Prior to this the pioneers
had spread settlement both east and west of Eyre's track from Adelaide to
the head of Spencer's Gulf. Amongst these early leaders of civilisation
in the central state are to be found the names of Hawker, Hughes,
Campbell, Robinson, and Heywood. But unfortunately the details of their
expeditions in search of grazing country have not been preserved.

[Illustration. John Ainsworth Horrocks.]

John Ainsworth Horrocks is one of those whose accidental death at the
very outset of his career plunged his name into oblivion. Had he lived to
climb to the summit of his ambition as an explorer, it would have been
written large in Australian history. That he had some premonition of the
conditions necessary to successful exploration to the west is shown by
his having been the first to employ the camel as an aid to exploration.
He took one with him on his last and fatal trip, and it is an example of
fate's cruel irony that the presence of this animal was inadvertently the
cause of his death.

Horrocks was born at Penwortham Hall, Lancashire, on March 22nd, 1818. He
was very much taken with the South Australian scheme of colonisation, and
left London for Adelaide, where he arrived in 1839. He at once took up
land, and with his brother started sheep-farming. He was a born explorer,
however, and made several excursions into the surrounding untraversed
land, finding several geographical features, which still preserve the
names he gave them. In 1846 he organised an expedition along more
extended lines, intending to proceed far into the north-west and west.
After having over-looked the ground, he would then prepare another party
on a large scale to attempt the passage to the Swan River. He started in
July, but in September occurred the disaster which cut him off in the
flower of his promise. In his dying letter he describes how he saw a
beautiful bird, which he was anxious to obtain:--

"My gun being loaded with slugs in one barrel and ball in the other, I
stopped the camel to get at the shot belt, which I could not get without
his lying down.

"Whilst Mr. Gill was unfastening it, I was screwing the ramrod into the
wad over the slugs, standing close alongside of the camel. At this moment
the camel gave a lurch to one side, and caught his pack in the cock of my
gun, which discharged the barrel I was unloading, the contents of which
first took off the middle fingers of my right hand between the second and
third joints, and entered my left cheek by my lower jaw, knocking out a
row of teeth from my upper jaw."

His sufferings were agonising, but he was easy between the fearful
convulsions, and at the end of the third day after he had reached home,
whither his companions had succeeded in conveying him, he died without a
struggle.

12.2. CAPTAIN STURT.

Charles Sturt, whose name is so closely bound up with the exploration of
the Australian interior, had settled in the new colony which the South
Australians loyally maintain he had created by directing attention to the
outlet of the Murray. After a short re-survey of the river, from the
point where Hume crossed it to the junction of the Murray and
Murrumbidgee, which had been one of Mitchell's tasks, he re-entered civil
life under the South Australian Government. He was now married, and
settled on a small estate which he was farming, not far from Adelaide. In
1839 he became Surveyor-General, but in October of the same year he
exchanged this office for that of Commissioner of Lands, which he held
until 1843. In the following year he commenced his most arduous and
best-known journey, a journey that has made the names of Sturt's Stony
Desert and the Depot Glen known all over the world, and that has,
unhappily for Australia, done much to create the popular fallacy that the
soil and climate of the interior are such as preclude comfortable
settlement by whites. Sturt's graphic account is at times somewhat
misleading, and the lapse of years has proved his denunciatory judgment
of the fitness of the interior for human habitation to have been hasty.
But if we examine the circumstances in which he received the impressions
he has recorded, we must grant that he had considerable justification for
his statements.

He was a broken and disappointed man, worn out by disease and frustrated
hopes, and nearly blind. During six months of his long absence, he had
been shut up in his weary depot prison, debarred from attempting the
completion of his work, and compelled to watch his friend and companion
die a lingering death from scurvy. And when the kindly rains released
him, he was doomed to be repulsed by the ever-present desert wastes. No
wonder that he despaired of the country, and viewed all its prospects
through the heated, treacherous haze of the desert plains. Yet now, close
to the ranges where Sturt spent the burning summer months of his
detention, there has sprung up one of the inland townships of New South
Wales, where men toil just as laboriously as in a more temperate zone.

[Map. Sturt's Route 1844, 1845 and 1846.]

But, though baffled and unable to win the goal he strove for, never did
man better deserve success. The instructions that he received from the
Home Office were, to reach the centre of the continent, to discover
whether mountains or sea existed there, and, if the former, to note the
flow and direction of the northern waters, but on no account to follow
them down to the north coast. Sturt was instructed to proceed by Mount
Arden, a route already tried, condemned, and abandoned by Eyre; and he
elected to proceed by way of the Darling. His plan was to follow that
river up as far as the Williora, a small western tributary of the
Darling, opposite the place whence Mitchell turned back in 1835, after
his conflict with the natives, an episode which Sturt found that they
bitterly remembered. Poole, Sturt's second in command, resembling
Mitchell in figure and appearance, the Darling blacks addressed him as
Major, and evinced marked hostility towards him. From Williora, or
Laidley's Ponds, Sturt intended to strike north-west, hoping thus to
avoid the gloomy environs of Lake Torrens, and the treacherous surface of
its bed. At Moorundi, on the Murray, where Eyre was then stationed as
Resident Magistrate, the party was mustered and the start made.

In addition to Poole, Sturt was accompanied by Dr. Browne, a thorough
bushman and an excellent surgeon, who went as a volunteer and personal
friend. With the party as surveyor's draftsman, went McDouall Stuart,
whose fame as explorer was afterwards destined nearly to equal that of
his leader. In addition there were twelve men, eleven horses, one
spring-cart, three bullock-drays, thirty bullocks, one horse-dray, two
hundred sheep, four kangaroo dogs, and two sheep dogs.

Eyre accompanied the expedition as far as Lake Victoria, which they
reached on the 10th of September, 1844. On the 11th of October they
arrived at Laidley's Ponds. This was the place from which Sturt intended
to leave the Darling for the interior, and where he expected to find,
from the account given him by the natives, a fair-sized creek heading
from a low range, visible at a distance to the north-west. But he found
the stream to be a mere surface channel, distributing the flood water of
the Darling into some shallow lakes about seven or eight miles distant.
Sturt despatched Poole and Stuart to this range to see if they could
obtain a glimpse of the country beyond to the north-west.

They returned with the rather startling intelligence that, from the top
of a peak of the range, Poole had seen a large lake studded with islands.

Although in his published journal, written some time after his return,
Sturt makes light of Poole's fancied lake, which of course was the effect
of a mirage, at that time his ardent fancy, and the extreme likelihood of
the existence of a lake in that locality, made him believe that he was on
the eve of an important discovery. In a letter to Mr. Morphett of
Adelaide, he wrote:--

"Poole has just returned from the range. I have not time to write over
again. He says there are high ranges to the North and North-West, and
water, a sea, extending along the horizon from South-West by South and
then East of North, in which there are a number of lofty ranges and
islands, as far as the eye can reach. What is all this? To-morrow we
start for the ranges, and then for the waters, the strange waters, on
which boat never swam and over which flag never floated. But both shall
ere long. We have the heart of the interior laid open to us, and shall be
off with a flowing sheet in a few days. Poole says that the sea was a
deep blue, and that in the midst of it was a conical island of great
height."

Poor Sturt! No boat was ever to float upon that visionary sea, nor flag
to wave over those dream-born waters. To those who know the experiences
that awaited the expedition, it is pathetic to read of the leader's
soaring hopes, as delusive as the desert mirage itself.

The whole of the party now removed to a small shallow lakelet, the
commencement of the Williora channel (Laidley's Ponds). After a short
excursion to the distant ranges reported by Poole, Sturt, accompanied by
Browne and two men, went ahead for the purpose of finding water of a
sufficient permanency to remove the whole of the party to. At the small
lake where they were then encamped, there was the ever-present likelihood
of a conflict with the pugnacious natives of the Darling. He was
successful in finding what he wanted, and on the 4th of November the main
body of the expedition, finally leaving the Darling basin, removed to the
new water depot.

The next day Sturt, with Browne and three men and the cart, started on
another trip in search of water ahead. This was found in small
quantities, but rain coming on, Sturt returned and sent Poole out again
to search while the camp was being moved. On his return, Poole reported
having seen some brackish lakes, and also having caught sight of Eyre's
Mount Serle. They were now well on the western <DW72> of the Barrier
Range, and, but for the providential discovery of a fine creek to the
northward, which was called Flood's creek, after one of the party, they
would have been unable to maintain their position. To Flood's creek the
camp was removed, and Sturt congratulated himself on the steady and
satisfactory progress he was making.

[Illustration. Sturt's Depot Glen. The Glen, eroded in vertical silurian
slate, is less than a mile long. Poole rests by the creek where the gorge
opens quite abruptly on to a vast cretaceous plain. Photo by the Reverend
J.M. Curran.]

The party now left the Barrier Range, and followed a course to another
range further north, staying for some time at a small lagoon while
engaged in making an examination of the country ahead. On the 27th of
January, 1845, they camped on a creek rising in a small range, and
affording, at its head, a fine supply of permanent water. When upon its
banks the explorers pitched their tents, they little thought that it
would be the 17th of the following July before they would strike camp
again. This was the Depot Glen, and an extract from Sturt's journal
depicts the situation of the party:--

"It was not, however, until after we had run down every creek in the
neighbourhood, and had traversed the country in every direction, that the
truth flashed across my mind, and it became evident to me that we were
locked up in the desolate and heated region into which we had penetrated,
as effectually as if we had wintered at the Pole. It was long, indeed,
ere I could bring myself to believe that so great a misfortune had
overtaken us, but so it was. Providence had, in its all wise purposes,
guided us to the only spot in that wide-spread desert where our wants
could have been permanently supplied, but had there stayed our further
progress into a region that almost appears to be forbidden ground."

This then was Sturt's prison -- a small creek marked by a line of gum
trees, issuing from a glen in a low range. By a kindly freak of nature,
enough water had been confined in this glen to provide a permanent supply
for the exploring party and their animals, during the long term of their
detention.

Of Sturt's existence and occupation during this dreary period little can
be said. He tried to find an avenue of escape in every direction, until
convinced of the futility of the attempt; sometimes encouraged and lured
on by the shallow pools in some fragmentary creek, at others, seeing
nothing before him but hopeless aridity. Now, too, he found himself
attacked with what he then thought to be rheumatism, but which proved to
be scurvy. Poole and Browne were afflicted in the same manner.

Sturt made one desperate attempt to the north during his imprisonment in
the Depot Glen, and succeeded in reaching a point one mile beyond the
28th parallel, but further north he could not advance, nor did he find
any inducement to risk the safety of his party.

There passed weeks of awesome monotony, relieved by one strange episode.
From the apparently lifeless wilderness around them there strayed an old
aboriginal into their camp. He was hungry and athirst, and in complete
keeping with the gaunt waste from which he had emerged. The dogs attacked
him when he approached, but he stood his ground and fought them valiantly
until they were called off. His whole demeanour was calm and courageous,
and he showed neither surprise nor timidity. He drank greedily when water
was given to him, ate voraciously, and accepted every service rendered to
him as a duty to be discharged by one fellow-being to another when cut
off in the desert from his kin. He stopped at the camp for some time and
recognised the boat, explaining that it was upside down, as of course it
was, and pointing to the North-West as the region where they would use
it, thus raising Sturt's hopes once more. Whence he came they could not
divine, nor could he explain to them. After a fortnight he departed,
giving them to understand that he would return, but they never saw him
again.

"With him" writes Sturt pathetically, "all our hopes vanished, for even
the presence of this savage was soothing to us, and so long as he
remained we indulged in anticipations for the future. From the time of
his departure a gloomy silence pervaded the camp; we were indeed placed
under the most trying circumstances: everything combined to depress our
spirits and exhaust our patience. We had witnessed migration after
migration of the feathered tribes, to that point to which we were so
anxious to push our way. Flights of cockatoos, of parrots, of pigeons,
and of bitterns; birds also whose notes had cheered us in the wilderness,
all had taken the same road to a better and more hospitable region."

And now the water began to sink with frightful rapidity, and all thought
that surely the end must be near. Hoping against hope, Sturt laid his
plans to start as soon as the drought broke up. He himself was to proceed
north and west, whilst poor Poole, reduced to a frightful condition by
scurvy, was to be sent carefully back to the Darling, as the only means
of saving his life.

[Illustration. Poole's Grave and Monument, near Depot Glen, Tibbuburra,
New South Wales. Photo by the Reverend J.M. Curran.]

On the 12th and 13th of June the rain came, and the drought-beleaguered
invaders of the desert were relieved. But Poole did not live to profit by
the rain. Every arrangement was made for his comfort that their
circumstances permitted, but on the first day's journey he died. His body
was brought back and buried under the elevation which they called the Red
Hill, and which is now known as Mount Poole, three and a-half miles from
Depot Camp.

Sturt's way was now open. He again despatched the party selected to
return to the Darling, whose departure had been interrupted by Poole's
untimely death, and, with renewed hope, made his preparations for the
long-denied north-west.

Having first removed the depot to a better grassed locality, he made a
short trip to the west. On the 4th of August he found himself on the edge
of an immense shallow, sandy basin, in which water was standing in
detached sheets, "as blue as indigo, and as salt as brine." This he took
to be a part of Lake Torrens. He returned to the new depot, called Fort
Grey, which was sixty or seventy miles to the north-west of the Glen, and
arranged matters for his final departure.

McDouall Stuart was left in charge of the depot. Dr. Browne accompanied
the leader, and on the 14th of August a start was made. For some
distance, owing to the pools of surface water left by the recent rain,
they had no difficulty in keeping a straightforward course. The country
they passed over consisted of large, level plains, intersected by
sand-ridges; but they crossed numerous creeks with more or less water in
all of them. To one of these creeks Sturt gave the name of Strzelecki.
Finally they reached a well-grassed region which greatly cheered them
with the prospect of success it held out. Suddenly they were confronted
with a wall of sand; and for nearly twenty miles they toiled over
successive ridges. Fortunately they found both water and grass, but the
unexpected check to their brighter anticipations was depressing. Nor did
a walk to the extremity of one of the ridges serve to raise their
spirits.

Sturt saw before him what he describes as an immense plain, of a dark
purple hue, with a horizon like that of the sea, boundless in the
direction in which he wished to proceed. This was Sturt's Stony Desert.
That night they camped within its dreary confines, and during the next
day crossed an earthy plain, with here and there a few bushes of
polygonum growing beside some straggling channel in which they
occasionally found a little muddy rain-water remaining. At night when
they camped just before dusk, they sighted some hills to the north, and,
on examining them through the telescope, they discerned dark shadows on
the faces, as if produced by cliffs. Next morning they made for these
hills, in the hope of finding a change of country and feed for the
horses, but they were disappointed. Sand ridges in repulsive array
confronted them once more. "Even the animals," writes Sturt, "appeared to
regard them with dismay."

Over plains and sand dunes, the former full of yawning cracks and holes,
the party pushed on, subsisting on scanty pools of muddy water and
fast-sinking native wells. On the 3rd of September, Flood, the stockman
who was riding in the lead, lifted his hat and waved it on high, calling
to the others that a large creek was in sight.

When the main party came up, they feasted their eyes on a beautiful
watercourse, its bed studded with pools of water and its banks clothed
with grass. This creek Sturt named Eyre's Creek, and it was an important
discovery in the drainage system of the region that he was then
traversing.

Along this new-found watercourse, they were enabled to make easy stages
for five days, when the course of the creek was lost; nor could any
continuation be traced. The lagoons, too, that were found a short
distance from the banks, proved to be intensely salt. Repeated efforts to
continue his journey to other points of the compass only led Sturt
amongst the terrible sandhills, their parallel rows separated by barren
plains encrusted with salt. Sturt now came to the erroneous conclusion
that he had reached the head of Eyre's Creek, and that further progress
was effectually barred by a waterless tract of country. In fact, he was
then within reach of a well-watered river, along which he could have
travelled right up to the main dividing range of the northern coast. But
Sturt was baffled in the most depressed area on the surface of the
continent, where rivers and creeks lost their identity in the numberless
channels into which they divided before reaching their final home in the
thirsty shallows of the then unknown Lake Eyre. There was neither sign
nor clue afforded him; his men were sick, and any further progress would
jeopardise his retreat. There was nothing for it but to fall back once
more; and, after a toilsome journey, they reached Fort Grey on the 2nd of
October.

Sturt's last effort had been made to the west of north; he now made up
his mind for a final effort due north. Before starting, however, he
begged of Browne, who was still suffering, to retreat, while the way was
yet open, to the Darling. This Browne resolutely refused to do; stating
that it was his intention to share the fate of the expedition. The 9th of
October saw Sturt again under way to the seemingly forbidden north,
Stuart and two fresh men accompanying him. On the second day they reached
Strzelecki Creek, and on the 13th they came on to the bank of a
magnificent channel, with fine trees growing on its grassy banks, and
abundance of water in the bed. This was the now well-known Cooper's
Creek, which Sturt, on his late trip, had crossed unnoticed, as it was
then dry and divided into several channels on their route. This was the
most important discovery made in connection with the lake system,
Cooper's Creek being one of the far-reaching affluents, its tributaries
draining the inland <DW72>s of the main dividing range.

Sturt, on making this unexpected discovery, was undecided whether to
follow Cooper's Creek up to the eastward or persevere in his original
intention of pushing to the north. A thunder-storm falling at the time
made him adhere to his original determination, and defer the examination
of the new river until his return.

Seven days after crossing Cooper's Creek, he had the negative
satisfaction of seeing his gloomy forebodings fulfilled. Once more he
gazed over the dreary waste of the stony desert, unchanged and repellant
as ever. They crossed it, but were again turned back by sandhill and salt
plain, and forced to retrace their steps to Cooper's Creek. This creek
Sturt followed up for many days, but found that it came from a more
easterly direction than the route he desired to travel along; moreover,
the one broad channel that they had commenced to follow became divided
into several ana-branches, running through plains subject to inundation.
This became so tiring to their now exhausted horses, who were woefully
footsore, that he reluctantly turned back. He had found the creek peopled
with well-nurtured natives, and the prospects of advancing were brighter
than they had ever been; but both Sturt and his men were weak and ill,
and the horses almost incapable of further effort. Moreover, he was not
certain of his retreat.

As they went down Cooper's Creek on their way back, they found that the
water was drying up so rapidly that grave fears were entertained lest
Strzelecki's Creek, their main resource in getting back to Fort Grey,
should be dry. Fortunately they were in time to find a little muddy fluid
left, just enough to serve their needs. Here, though most anxious to get
on, they were forced to camp the whole of one day, on account of an
extremely fierce hot wind.

Sturt's vivid account of the day spent during the blast of that
furnace-like sirocco has been oft quoted. But the reader should remember
when reading it that the man who wrote it was in such a weakened
condition that he had not sufficient energy left to withstand the hot
wind, whilst the shade under which the party sought shelter was of the
scantiest description.

They had still a distance of eighty-six miles to cover to get back to
Fort Grey, with but little prospect of finding water on the way. After a
long and weary ride they reached it, only to find the tents struck, the
flag hauled down, and the Fort abandoned. The bad state of the water and
the steady diminution of supply had forced Browne to fall back to Depot
Glen, riding day and night Sturt reached the old encampment, so exhausted
that he could hardly stand after dismounting.

The problem of their final escape had now to be resolved. The water in
Depot Creek was reduced so low that they feared there would be none left
in Flood's Creek. If this failed, they were once more imprisoned. Browne,
now much recovered, undertook the long ride of one hundred and eighteen
miles which would decide the question. Preparations had been made for his
journey by filling a bullock skin with water, and sending a dray with it
as far as possible. On the eighth day he returned.

"Well, Browne," asked Sturt, who was helpless in his tent, "what news? Is
it good or bad?" "There is still water in the creek," replied Browne,
"but that is all I can say; what there is is as black as ink, and we must
make haste, for in a week it will be gone."

The boat that was to have floated over the inland sea was left to rot at
Depot Glen. All the heaviest of the stores were abandoned, and the
retreat of over two hundred miles commenced.

More bullock-skins were fashioned into water-bags, and with their aid and
that of a scanty but kindly shower of rain, they crossed the dry stage to
Flood's Creek in safety. Here they found the growth of the vegetation
much advanced, and with care, and constant activity in searching ahead
for water, they gradually increased the distance from the scene of their
sufferings, and approached the Darling. Sturt had to be carried on one of
the drays, and lifted on and off at each stopping-place. On the 21st of
December, they arrived at the camp of the relief-party under Piesse, at
Williorara, and Sturt's last expedition came to an end.

In taking leave of this explorer, we quote a short extract from his
Journal to show the exalted character of the man whom Australians should
ever regard with the greatest of pride:--

"Circumstances may yet arise to give a value to my recent labours, and my
name may be remembered by after generations in Australia as the first who
tried to penetrate to its centre. If I failed in that great object, I
have one consolation in the retrospect of my past services. My path among
savage tribes has been a bloodless one, not but that I have often been
placed in situations of risk and danger, when I might have been justified
in shedding blood, but I trust I have ever made allowance for human
timidity, and respected the customs of the rudest people."

Sturt's health and eyesight had been greatly impaired by his last trip,
but although he was for a time almost totally blind, he still managed to
discharge the duties of Colonial Secretary. He was at last pensioned by
the South Australian Government, and soon afterwards returned to England.
He died at his residence at Cheltenham. Though the Home Office had
treated him disgracefully during his life, and ignored his services, he
lives for ever in the hearts of the Australians as the hero and chief
figure of the exploration of their country. When he was on his death-bed,
in 1869, the empty title of knighthood was conferred upon him. As he
could not enjoy the tardy honour, his widow, who lived until 1887, was
graciously allowed to wear the bauble.



CHAPTER 13. BABBAGE AND STUART.


13.1. B. HERSCHEL BABBAGE.

[Illustration. B. Herschel Babbage. Born 1815; died 1878.]

The unsolved problem of the extent and other details of that vast region
of salt lakes and flat country then known under the generic name of Lake
Torrens still greatly occupied the attention and excited the imaginations
of the colonists of South Australia. And the accounts brought back by the
different exploring parties were conflicting in the extreme. In 1851, two
squatters, named Oakden and Hulkes, out run-hunting, pushed westward of
Lake Torrens, and found suitable grazing country. They also discovered a
lake of fresh water, and heard from the natives of other lakes to the
north-west some fabulous legends of strange animals. Their horses giving
in, Oakden and Hulkes returned, but although they applied for a squatting
licence for the country they had been over, it was not then settled or
stocked. In 1856, Surveyor Babbage made some explorations in the field
partly traversed by Eyre and Frome. He penetrated through the plains that
were supposed to occupy the central portion of the horseshoe formation at
that time associated in the public opinion with Lake Torrens. More
fortunate than his predecessors, he found permanent water in a gum-tree
creek, and saw some fair-sized sheets of water, one of which he named
Blanche Water, or Lake Blanche. Some further excursions led to the
discovery of more fresh water and well-grassed pastoral country. The
aboriginals, too, directed him to what they said was a crossing-place in
that portion of Lake Torrens that had been sighted, in 1845, by Poole and
Browne of Captain Sturt's party, when Poole thought he saw an inland sea.
Their directions, however, proved unreliable, or Babbage failed to find
the place, for he lost his horse in the attempt to cross the lake.

In 1857, another excursion to the westward of Lake Torrens was made by a
Mr. Campbell, who discovered a creek of fresh water, which he called the
Elizabeth. He also visited Lake Torrens, of which he reported in similar
terms to those of previous explorers -- that it was surrounded with
barren country.

In April of the same year, a survey conducted by Deputy Surveyor-General
Goyder, over the same country as that lately explored by Babbage, led to
some absurd mistakes. A few miles north of Blanche Water he came to many
surface springs surrounding a fine lagoon. To the north of them was an
isolated hill, which he called Weathered Hill. From the summit of this
hill he had a curious example of the effects of refraction in this region
in a similar illusion to that which suggested Poole's inland sea. To the
northward he saw a belt of gigantic gum-trees, and beyond them what
appeared to be a sheet of water with elevated land on the far side. To
the eastward was another large lake. But all this was but the glamourie
of the desert -- on closer examination the gigantic gums dwindled down to
stunted bushes, and the mountainous ground to broken clods of earth.

But the greatest surprise reserved for Goyder was at Lake Torrens, where
he found the water quite fresh. He described the Lake as stretching from
fifteen to twenty miles to the north-west, with a water horizon, with an
extensive bay forming to the southward; while to the north, a bluff
headland and perpendicular cliffs were clearly to be discerned with the
telescope. From the appearance of the flood-marks, Goyder came to the
conclusion that there was little or no rise and fall in the lake, drawing
the natural conclusion that its size was such as not to be influenced
appreciably by flood waters, but that it absorbed them without showing
any variation in its level.

Adelaide was overjoyed at the news. The threatening desert that hemmed in
their fair province to the north was suddenly converted into a land of
milk and honey. The Surveyor-General, Colonel Freeling, immediately
started out, taking with him both a boat and an iron punt with which to
float on these new waters. But there was a sudden fall to their hopes
when a letter was received from him stating that the cliffs, the bay, and
the head-lands were all built up on the airy foundation of a mirage. The
elves and sprites of this desolate region had been playing a hoax upon
Goyder's party. But it is no wonder that Goyder had been so open to
deception after unexpectedly finding fresh water in the lake that had
been so long known as salter than the sea.

On reaching the lake, Freeling found the water still almost fresh; but
one of Goyder's men who accompanied him, told him that it had already
receded half-a-mile since the latter's visit. An attempt to float the
punt was made, but after dragging it through mud and a few inches of
water for a quarter of a mile, the men abandoned the attempt as hopeless.
Freeling and some of the party then started to wade through the slush,
but after proceeding three miles, and then sounding only six inches of
water, they returned. Some of the more adventurous extended their muddy
wade, but only met with a similar result. Lake Torrens was re-invested
with its evil name, only somewhat shrunken in proportions.

In the same year, 1857, Stephen Hack started with a party from Streaky
Bay to examine the Gawler Range of Eyre, and investigate the country west
of Lake Torrens. He reached the Gawler Range and examined the country
very carefully, finding numerous fresh-water springs, and large plains
covered with both grass and saltbush. He also discovered a large salt
lake, Lake Gairdner. Simultaneously with Hack's expedition, a party under
Major Warburton was out in the same neighbourhood; in fact, Hack's party
crossed Warburton's tracks on one or two occasions. Strange to say, the
reports of the two were flatly contradictory. Warburton described the
country as dry and arid; but Hack's account was distinctly favourable. Of
the two men, however, it is most probable that Hack possessed the more
experience and knowledge of country, and, moreover, Time, the great
arbitrator, has endorsed his words.

The year 1857 saw much exploration done in South Australia. One party,
consisting of Swinden, Campbell, Thompson, and Stock, at about seventy
miles from the head of Spencer's Gulf, found good pastoral country and a
permanent water-hole called by the natives Pernatty. to the north they
came upon Campbell's former discovery of the Elizabeth, but their
provisions failing they were forced to return.

A month afterwards Swinden started again from Pernatty. North of the
Gawler Range he found available pastoral country, which became known as
Swinden's country. During this year also, Miller and Dutton explored the
country at the back of Fowler's Bay. Forty miles to the north they saw
treeless, grassy plains stretching far inland, but could find no
permanent water. Warburton afterwards reported in depreciatory terms of
this region; but Delisser and Hardwicke, who also visited it, stated that
it would make first-class pastoral country if only surface water could be
obtained. During the whole of Warburton's career, his judgment of the
pastoral value of country seems to have been lamentably defective. He
made no allowance for the varying nature of the seasons. A suggestion
that he made to the South Australian Government to explore the interior,
which had turned back such men as Sturt and Gregory, with the aid of the
police, verges on the ludicrous.

In 1858, the South Australian Government voted a sum of money to fit out
a party to continue the northern explorations. This party was put under
the leadership of Babbage; but he was not given a free hand, being
hampered with official instructions, and there being no allowance made
for unforeseen exigencies. His instructions were to examine the country
between Lakes Torrens and Gairdner, and to map the respective western and
eastern shores of the two lakes, so as to remove for the future any doubt
as to their actual formation and accurate position. This alone, apart
from any extended exploration, meant a work of considerable time; but,
unfortunately for the surveyor in charge, the general public was just
then eager for fresh discoveries of available pastoral land, and was
inclined to regard survey work as of secondary importance. It took
several months to complete the survey work of the two lakes, and when
Babbage returned to Port Augusta he found that Harris, the second in
command of his depot camp, had started to return to Adelaide with many of
the drays and horses. Babbage rode one hundred and sixty miles before he
overtook him at Mount Remarkable, and there learned that the South
Australian Government had changed its official mind with regard to the
conduct of the expedition, and had decided that it should be conducted in
future with pack-horses only.

It was A.C. Gregory's arrival in Adelaide with pack-horses from his last
expedition down the Barcoo that had led to this change of tactics.
Charles Gregory, who had accompanied his brother, was now engaged by the
Government to overtake Babbage and acquaint him with their intention, but
when he reached Port Augusta, Gregory took it upon himself to order the
drays home, Babbage being away surveying. Babbage overtook them and
ordered them back; but pleading Government orders, they refused to
return. Babbage wrote to the authorities pointing out the unfairness of
their action, and, mustering up a small party, returned to continue his
work with six months' provisions.

On this occasion, Babbage gave more time to discovery than he had done
before. He went out beyond the boundaries of his survey, and pushed on to
Chambers Creek, so called by Stuart, who discovered it while Babbage was
busy at Lake Gairdner. Babbage traced Chambers Creek into Lake Eyre, and
was thus the first discoverer of this lake, which he called Lake Gregory.
He found a range which he called Hermit Range, but from its crest
discerned no sign of Lake Torrens, thus settling a certain limit to its
extension to the north. He made further explorations to the west of Lake
Gregory, now Lake Eyre, and found some hot springs. Meanwhile, during the
time he was making these researches, the Government had, in a very
high-handed manner, appointed Warburton to supersede him. Warburton
started out to find Babbage, taking Charles Gregory as his second.
Failing to find him at the Elizabeth, he followed and overtook him at the
newly-discovered Lake Gregory. Warburton made a few discoveries while
seeking for Babbage, amongst them the Douglas, a creek which was
afterwards of great assistance to Stuart, and the Davenport Range; and he
also came upon some fair pastoral country.

Babbage's surveys and explorations had done much to clear up the mystery
and confusion that had hitherto obscured the geography of the salt lake
region. His discovery of Lake Eyre (Gregory) and of the complete
isolation of Lake Torrens, reduced the component parts of that huge
saline basin to some sort of method and order. In addition to these
achievements, Surveyor Parry made some further discoveries both of fresh
water and available pastoral country to the eastward of the Lake.

B. Herschel Babbage was the eldest son of the well-known inventor of the
calculating machine. He had been educated as an engineer, and for a
considerable time had followed his profession in Europe. He had been
engaged on several main lines in England, and had worked in conjunction
with the celebrated Brunel. He had also been commissioned by the
Government of Piedmont to report on a line across the Alps by way of
Mount Cenis. He had remained in Italy some years until his work was
interrupted by the revolution. He had returned to England, and had
subsequently come to South Australia in 1851, in the ship Hydaspes. He
died at his residence, in 1878, at St. Mary's, South Road, where he had a
vineyard.

13.2. JOHN MCDOUALL STUART.

[Illustration. John McDouall Stuart.]

John McDouall Stuart, the great explorer of the centre of Australia,
arrived in South Australia in 1839. His first experience of Australian
exploration was sufficiently trying, gained as it was when he was acting
as a draughtsman with Captain Sturt on his last arduous expedition. But
it had kindled in him a high ardour for discovery, and fostered a
stubborn resolution to carry through whatever he undertook.

He commenced his early explorations when in a position to do so
independently, to the north-west of Swinden's country, in search of some
locality called by the natives Wingillpin. Not finding it, he came to the
strange conclusion that Wingillpin and Cooper's Creek were one and the
same, although he was now on a different watershed. He also, at that
period, seems to have entertained somewhat extensive notions of the
course of Cooper's Creek, as in one part of his Journal he remarks:--

"My only hope of cutting Cooper's Creek is on the other side of the
range. The plain we crossed to-day resembles those of the Cooper, also
the grasses. If it is not there, it must run to the north-west, and form
the Glenelg of Captain Grey."

Now, although we know that Grey held rather extravagant notions of the
importance of the Glenelg, even he would not have thought it possible for
the Glenelg to be the outlet of such a mighty river as Cooper's Creek
would have become by the time it reached the north-west coast.

Stuart's horses were now too footsore to proceed over the stony country
he found himself then in, and he had no spare shoes with him. Failing
therefore to find the promised land of Wingillpin, although he had passed
over much good and well-watered country, he turned to the south-west, and
made some explorations in the neighbourhood of Lake Gairdner. Before
this, however, he had found and named Chambers Creek. From Lake Gairdner,
he steered for Fowler's Bay, and his description of some of the country
he passed is anything but inviting. From a spur of the high peak that he
named Mount Finke, he saw:--

"A prospect gloomy in the extreme: I could see a long distance, but
nothing met the eye save a dense scrub, as black and dismal as night."

[Map. Stuart's Routes 1858, 1859, 1860, 1861, 1862; Burke and Wills's
Route 1860 and 1861.]

From this point the party passed into a sandy spinifex desert, which
Stuart says was worse than Sturt's; there had been a little salt-bush
there, but here there was nothing but spinifex to be found, and the
barren ground provided no food of any kind for the horses.

The state of affairs was becoming desperate with the little band, as
their provisions were nearly finished; and though the leader was tempted
to persist in the search for good pastoral country, he was at last forced
to abandon the search and beat a hasty retreat. Dense scrub and the same
"dreary dismal desert," as he calls it in his Journal, surrounded them
day after day. Tired out and half-starved they reached the coast, and had
but two meals left to carry them to Streaky Bay, where they found relief
at Gibson's station. Here the sudden change from starvation to a full
diet invalided most of them, and Stuart himself was very ill for some
days. Finally they reached Thompson's station at Mount Arden, and there
Stuart's first expedition terminated.

But this severe test only whetted Stuart's appetite for further
exploration, and in April, 1859, he made another start. After crossing
over some of the already-traversed country, Hergott, one of his
companions, found the now well-known springs that bear his name. Stuart
crossed his former discovery of Chambers Creek, and made for the
Davenport Range, discovered by Warburton, finding many of the mound
springs that characterize some parts of the interior. On the 6th of June
he discovered a large creek, which he called the Neale. It ran through
very good country, and Stuart followed it down, hoping to find it
increase in volume and value as he went. In this he was not disappointed,
as large plains covered with salt-bush and grass were found, and the
party encountered several more springs. After satisfying himself of the
extent and economic value of the country he had found, Stuart was obliged
to return; for his horses' shoes had again worn out, and he had a lively
and painful remembrance of the misery which his horses had suffered
before from the lack of them.

In November of the same year, he made a third expedition in the vicinity
of Lake Eyre, but there is little of interest attaching to the Journal of
this trip, as his course was mostly over closely explored country. He
reached the Neale again, and instituted a survey of the promising
pastoral country he had traversed during his last trip, approaching at
times to within sight of what he calls in his Journal Lake Torrens, but
which in reality was what is now known as Lake Eyre. All these minor
expeditions of Stuart's may be looked upon as preparatory to his great
struggle to find an available passage through the unknown fastnesses of
the centre of the continent.

It was in 1860 that Stuart made the first of his daring and stubborn
attempts to cross Australia from south to north. The South Australian
Government had offered a standing reward of 2,000 pounds for the man who
should first succeed in this undertaking.

Stuart's party on his first trip was but a very small one: three men in
all, with but thirteen horses. It reads lilliputian compared with the
princely cavalcade that later on set out with Burke to travel over
comparatively well-known country, involving only a short excursion
through a land without natural difficulties or obstacles; and yet it
actually achieved the greatest part of the task set it.

Stuart started from Chambers Creek, but for part of the journey he was of
course travelling over country that was fairly well-known by that time.
After passing the Neale, he entered untrodden country, which proved to be
good available pastoral land. Numerous well-watered creeks were passed,
which were named respectively the Frew, the Finke, and the Stevenson, and
on the 6th of April they reached a hill of a remarkable shape, which had
for some time attracted and excited their attention and curiosity. They
found it to be a column of sandstone, on the apex of a hill. The hill was
but a low one of a few hundred feet in height, but the sandstone column
that surmounted it was one hundred and fifty feet in height and twenty
feet in width. This striking object was named by Stuart Chambers Pillar,
to commemorate a friend who had assisted him greatly in his explorations.
It stood amongst other elevations of fantastic shapes and grotesque
formations, resembling ruined forts and castles. On the 9th of April they
sighted two remarkable bluffs, and on the 12th reached the range of which
the bluffs formed the centre. The eastern bluff was called Brinkley Bluff
and the western Hanson Bluff; the range, which is now well-known as a
leading geographical feature of Australia, and on which the most elevated
peaks in the interior have since been found, Stuart named the MacDonnell
Range, after the then Governor of South Australia. The little band
crossed the range, which was rough but had good grass on its <DW72>s.
There was, however, a scarcity of water; for they were now approaching
the tropical line, and on reaching the northern <DW72> of the range found
themselves amongst spinifex and scrub, and obliged to undergo two nights
without water for the horses. At a high peak, which was named Mount
Freeling, they found a small supply; and as it was now evident that there
was dry country ahead, a more careful search was made before pushing any
further forward, in order to ensure certain means of retreat. Fortunately
they found, amongst some ledges of rock, a large natural reservoir, which
promised to be permanent, and capable of supplying their wants on their
homeward way.

On the 22nd of April, Stuart camped in the centre of Australia, on the
spot which his former leader, Sturt, had vainly undergone so much
suffering to reach; and his feeling of elation must have been tempered
with regret that his old leader was not then with him to share this
success. About two miles and a half to the North-North-East there was a
tolerably high hill which he called in reality Central Mount Sturt. It is
now, however, erroneously called Stuart, owing to the publishers of his
diary having misread his manuscript.

Having, in company with his tried companion Kekwick, climbed the mount,
he erected a cairn of stones at the top and hoisted the Union Jack. They
then recommenced their northern journey. That night they camped without
finding water, but the next morning were lucky enough to get a permanent
supply. Then ensued much delay, caused by fruitless attempts to strike
either to the eastward or the westward. Stuart tried on several occasions
to reach the head of the Victoria River, but failed, and sacrificed some
horses. On a creek he called the Phillips, some natives were encountered
who, according to Stuart, made and answered a masonic sign.

To the north of this spot, the explorers came to a large gum-tree creek,
with very fair-sized sheets of water in it. As they followed down, they
passed an encampment of natives, but kept steadily on their course
without interfering with them. Not finding any water lower down the
creek, the party had to return, and when close to the creek at the point
where they had crossed that morning, they were suddenly surrounded by a
mob of armed and painted savages, who had emerged unexpectedly from
concealment in a clump of scrub. To all attempts at peaceful parley they
returned showers of boomerangs and clubs, until the whites were compelled
in self-defence to fire on them. Even then they were not deterred from
following the party, even up to the camp of the night before. This
incident caused Stuart to hesitate. His party was so small that the loss
or even disablement of one man would have crippled the expedition; and
they had already lost a good many horses. He therefore wisely decided to
fall back, as they had penetrated far enough to prove that the passage of
the continent could be effected with a few more men. It was on the 27th
of June that he began his homeward march, and on the 26th of August he
reached Brodie's camp at Hamilton Springs, with the strength of all much
reduced, and Stuart himself suffering from scurvy.

After the result of Stuart's journey had been reported in Adelaide, and
it was seen how inadequate means only had led to his defeat, the
Government voted 2,500 pounds to equip a better-organized party; of this
he was to take command.

Stuart judged it best to keep his old track by way of the Finke and the
Hugh. On the 12th of April they arrived at the Bonney, and finding it
running strong, with abundance of good feed on the banks, they were
betrayed into following it down; but it soon spread abroad and was lost
in a large plain. Leaving the Bonney, they adhered to the old route, and
reached Tennant's Creek on the 21st of April, and four days afterwards
they were on the scene of the attack that had been made on them at Attack
Creek. But although the tracks of the natives were numerous, the
explorers were, at this time, permitted to pass on in peace. Keeping at
the foot of the low range, which there has an approximate northerly and
southerly direction, Stuart crossed many creeks which promised long
courses where they formed in the range, but which were all alike lost
when they reached the level country. On the 4th of May they attained to
the northern termination of this range, which he called the Ashburton
Range. Here he made several attempts to the north and north-west, but
could discover neither water nor watercourses in those directions;
nothing indeed but plains, beautifully grassed, but heavy to ride over
and yielding under the horses' feet. Beyond these plains, the country
changed for the worse, and became sandy and scrubby. On the 16th of May
he encountered a new description of scrub that grew in a very obstructive
manner, and is now known as Stuart's Desert Hedgewood.

On the 23rd he found a magnificent sheet of permanent water which he
called the Newcastle Waters, and at first he judged that a clear way
north was now assured. But he was deluded, for beyond these waters he
could not advance his party a mile; north, north-east, and north-west,
there was the one outlook -- endless grassy plains, terminating in dense
scrubby forest country. He had to give up all hope for the present, and
return to Adelaide.

Such however was the confidence of the authorities in him, and such his
own energy, that in less than a month after his arrival in Adelaide he
was on his way to Chambers Creek to make preparations for a fresh
departure. His last two journeys had proved the existence of a long line
of good country, fairly well-watered; and although beyond it he had not
been able to gain a footing, still there was no knowing what a fresh
endeavour would bring to light.

He had brought his party back in safety, with the loss of only a few
horses, and had actually reached in point of position as low a latitude
as the Victorian explorers had done, and that with a more difficult
country to travel through, without camels, and with an inferior equipment
in all other respects.

It is not necessary again to follow Stuart's horse-tracks over the
northern way he was now pursuing for the third time. On the 14th of
April, 1862, we find him encamped at the northern end of Newcastle
Waters, once more about to force a passage through the forest of
waterless scrub to the north. On the second day he was partly successful,
finding an isolated waterhole, surrounded by conglomerate rocks. This he
called Frew's Pond; and it is now a well-known camping-place for
travellers on the overland telegraph line.

Past this spot he was not able to make any progress. Twice he made
strenuous but vain efforts to reach some tributary of the Victoria River.
He then spent many days riding through dense mulga and hedgewood scrub.
At length, after much hope deferred, finding a few scanty waterholes that
did not serve the purpose he had in view, he succeeded in striking the
head of a chain of ponds running in a northerly direction. These being
followed down, led him to the head of the creek now called Daly Waters
Creek, and finally to the large waterhole on which the present telegraph
station bearing the name of Daly Waters, stands. The creek was then lost
in a swamp, and Stuart was unable to find the channel where it reformed,
which has since been named the Birdum. Missing this water-guide, Stuart
worked his way to the eastward, to a creek he named the Strangways, which
led him down to the Roper River, a river which he had never striven to
reach, his sole aim being the Victoria. He crossed the Roper, and
followed up a northern tributary, which he named after his constant
friend John Chambers.

Scarcity of water was now a thing of the past, but his stock of spare
horseshoes had to be most jealously guarded, for his horses were
beginning to fall lame, the country he was on was very stony, and he was
far removed from Adelaide. From the Chambers he came to the lower course
of a creek called by Leichhardt Flying-Fox Creek, re-named by Stuart the
Katherine, the name it now bears. Thence he struck across the stony
tableland and descended on the head waters of a river which he christened
the Adelaide, and on following this river down he found himself in rich
tropical scenery, which told him that at last he was approaching the
sea-shore.

On the 24th of July he turned a little to the north-east, intending to
strike the sea-beach and travel along it to the mouth of the Adelaide. He
told only two of the party of the eventful moment awaiting them. As they
rode on, Thring, who was riding ahead, suddenly called out, "The Sea,"
which so took the majority by surprise that they were some time before
they understood what was meant, and then three hearty cheers were given.

At this, his first point of contact with the ocean, Stuart dipped his
feet and hands in the sea, as at last he gazed across the water he had so
perseveringly striven for years to reach.

He attempted to get to the mouth of the Adelaide River along the beach,
but found it too boggy for the horses. Wishing to husband the forces at
his command, Stuart wisely resolved to push no further; he had a space
cleared where they were, and a tall sapling stripped of its boughs to
serve as a flagstaff. On this he hoisted the Union Jack which he had
carried with him. A record of their arrival, contained in an air-tight
case, was then buried at the foot of the impromptu staff, and Stuart cut
his initials on the largest tree he could find. The tree has since been
found and recognised, but the buried memorial has not been discovered.
More fortunate than the ill-fated Burke, Stuart surveyed the open sea
from his point of contact with the ocean, instead of having to be content
with some mangrove trees and salt water.

McDouall Stuart, whose last expedition we have thus followed out to its
successful end, is rightly considered the man to whom the credit for the
first crossing the continent is due. His victory was all his own; he had
followed in no other person's footsteps; he had crossed the true centre,
and he had made the coast at a point much further to the north than that
reached by Burke and Wills, their journey having been considerably
shortened by its northern end being placed on the southern shore of the
great gulf that bites so deeply into north Australia. Along Stuart's
track there is now erected the Overland Telegraph Line, an enduring
monument to his indomitable perseverance.

Stuart's health was fast failing, and his horses were sadly reduced in
strength. He therefore started back the day after the consummation of his
dearest ambition. On his way south, after leaving Newcastle Waters, he
found the water in many of the short creeks heading from the Ashburton
Range to be rapidly diminishing; in some there was none left, in others
it was fast drying. The horses commenced to give in rapidly one after the
other, and more were lost on successive dry stages. Stuart himself
thought that he would never live to see the settled districts. Scurvy had
brought him down to a lamentable state, and after all his hard-won
success, it seemed as though he would not profit by it. His right hand
had become useless to him, and his eyes lost power of sight after sunset.
He could not undergo the pain of riding, and a stretcher had to be slung
between two horses to carry him on. With painful slowness they crept
along until they reached Mount Margaret, the first station. Here the
leader, reduced to a mere skeleton, was furnished with a little relief;
and after resting and gaining a little strength, he rode on to Adelaide.

This was Stuart's last expedition; for he never recovered his health nor
former eyesight. He was rewarded by the government of the colony which he
had served so well, and was awarded the gold medal of the Royal
Geographical Society. He went to reside in England, where he died in the
year 1869, on the 16th of July.



CHAPTER 14. BURKE AND WILLS.

[Illustration. Robert O'Hara Burke. From a photograph in the possession
of E.J. Welch, of the Howitt Relief Expedition.

Illustration. William John Wills. From a photo in possession of E.J.
Welch, of the Howitt Relief Expedition.

Illustration. John King. From a photo in the possession of E.J. Welch.]


We have now to deal with an exploring expedition of greater notoriety
than that of any similar enterprise in the annals of Australia, though
its results in the way of actual exploration in the true meaning of the
term were quite insignificant. The expedition could not reasonably hope
to reveal any new geographical conditions; for the nature of the country
to be traversed was fairly well-known: there was no such expanse of
unknown territory along the suggested course of travel as to justify the
anticipation of any discovery of magnitude. Both Kennedy and Gregory had
followed much the same line of route when tracing the course of the
Barcoo and Cooper's Creek, a short distance to the eastward. The only
apparent motive for the expedition seems to have been not particularly
creditable, the desire to outdo Stuart, who after nearly accomplishing
the task might well have been allowed the honour of completing it. But
Time is after all the great arbitrator: Stuart re-entered Adelaide
successful, on the same day that the bodies of Burke and Wills arrived
for shipment to Melbourne.

Robert O'Hara Burke was born in the county of Galway, in Ireland, in
1821. He was the second son of John Hardiman Burke, of St. Clerans, and
was educated in Belgium. In 1840 he entered the Austrian army, in which
he rose to the rank of Captain. In 1848 he joined the Royal Irish
Constabulary, but five years later emigrated to Tasmania. Thence he went
to Victoria, where he entered the local police force, and became an
Inspector. Such was his position when he was offered the command of the
expedition which ended in his death.

William John Wills was born at Totnes, in Devonshire. He was the son of a
medical man, and after his arrival in Victoria, in 1852, he led for a
time a bush life on the Edwards River. He was later employed as a
surveyor in Melbourne, and then became assistant to Professor Neumayer at
the Melbourne Observatory, a post he quitted in order to act as
assistant-surveyor on the ill-starred journey.

Sentiment, and an hysterical sentiment at that, seems to have dominated
this expedition throughout. There was no urgent necessity for Victoria to
equip and send forth an exploring expedition. Her rich and compact little
province was known from end to end, and she had no surplus territory in
which to open up fresh fields of pastoral occupation for her sons. But
her people became possessed with the exploring spirit, and the planning
and execution of the scheme was a signal indication of national
patriotism. And if sense and not sentiment had marked the counsel, the
results might have conferred rich benefit upon Australia.

The necessary funds were made up as follows: 6,000 pounds voted by
Government; 1,000 pounds presented by Mr. Ambrose Kyte; and the balance
of the first expenditure of 12,000 pounds made up by public subscription.
But the final cost of the expedition and of the relief parties amounted
to 57,000 pounds. And the exploratory work done by the different relief
parties far and away exceeded in geographical results the small amount
effected by the original expedition.

A committee of management was appointed, and to his interest with this
committee Burke owed his elevation to the position of leader. He seems to
have been supported by that sort of general testimony which fits a man to
apply for nearly any position; but of special aptitude and training for
the work to be done he had none. He was frank, openhearted, impetuous,
and endowed with all those qualities which made him a great favourite
with women; moreover, his service in the Austrian army had given people
an exaggerated notion of his ability to command and organize. It would
appear on the whole that his appointment was due solely to the influence
he wielded, and to his personal popularity.

Wills appears to have been a man gifted with many of the qualities
essential for efficient discharge of the duties and responsibilities
appertaining to the post he held; but his amiable disposition allowed him
to be influenced too readily in council by the rash and foolish judgment
of his impetuous superior. If, for instance, he had persisted in
combating Burke's incomprehensible plan of leaving the depot for Mount
Hopeless, the last fatality would never have occurred.

When the expedition left Melbourne, it was amid the shouts and hurrahs of
acclaiming thousands, who probably had not the faintest idea of the easy
task that the explorers with their imposing retinue and outfit had before
them. In fact, with all the resources at Burke's command, a favourable
season and good open country, the excursion would have been a mere picnic
to most men of experience. A number of camels had been specially imported
from India at a cost of 5,500 pounds. G.J. Landells came to the country
in charge of them, and had been appointed second in command. Long before
they left the settled districts, Burke quarrelled with him, whereupon he
resigned and returned to Melbourne. There he openly declared that under
Burke's control the expedition would assuredly meet with disaster. Wills
was then appointed second by Burke, and Wright, who was supposed to be
acquainted with the locality which they were approaching, was engaged as
third, another most unfortunate selection. Besides those already
mentioned, there were Dr. Hermann Beckler, medical officer and botanist,
and Dr. Ludwig Becker, artist, naturalist, and geologist, ten white
assistants, and three camel-drivers.

The expedition in full reached Menindie on the Darling, where Wright
joined them. On the 19th of October, 1860, Burke, Wills, six men, five
horses and sixteen camels, left Menindie for Cooper's Creek. Wright went
with them two hundred miles to indicate the best route, and then returned
to take charge of the main body waiting at Menindie. On the 11th of
November, Burke with the advance party reached Cooper's Creek, where they
camped and awaited the arrival of Wright with the rest. Grass and water
were both plentiful, and the journey had hitherto proved no more arduous
than an ordinary over-landing trip.

The long delay and inaction worked sadly upon Burke's active and
impatient temperament, and he suddenly announced his intention to
subdivide his party and, with three men, to start across the belt of
unknown country -- a distance of five hundred miles at the furthest --
that separated him from Gregory's track round the Gulf. Although his
lavish outfit had been purchased specially to explore this comparatively
small extent of land, he thus deliberately left it behind him during the
most critical part of the journey. He had with him no means of following
up any discoveries he might make, and his botanist and naturalist and
geologist were also left behind. He killed time for a little while by
making short excursions northward, and then, on the 16th of December,
impatient of further delay, he started with Wills and two men for
Carpentaria. The others were left, with verbal instructions, to wait
three months for him. Thus, dispersed and neglected, he left the costly
equipment containing within itself all the elements of successful
geographical research. Certainly this was not the plan that had been
anticipated by the promoters and organisers. We have now, at this stage,
the spectacle of the main body loitering on the outskirts of the settled
districts, four men killing time on the banks of Cooper's Creek, and the
leader and three others scampering across the continent, all four of them
utterly inexperienced in bushcraft.

As might have been expected the results of the journey are most barren:
Wills's diary is sadly uninteresting, and Burke made only a few scanty
notes, at the end of which he writes: "28th March. At the conclusion of
report it would be as well to say that we reached the sea, but we could
not obtain a view of the open ocean, although we made every endeavour to
do so."

Shortly condensing Wills's diary, we gather the following account of
their route. The first point they intended to reach was Eyre's Creek, but
before arriving at it, they discovered a fine watercourse coming from the
north, which took them a long distance in the direction they desired to
follow. This watercourse, which McKinlay afterwards called the Mueller,
began in time to lead their steps too much to the eastward, in which
direction lay its source. They therefore quitted it and kept due north,
following a tributary well-supplied with both grass and water. This
tributary led them well on to the northern dividing range, which they
crossed without difficulty, coming down on to the head of the Cloncurry
River. By tracing that river down they reached the Flinders River, which
they followed down to the mangroves and salt water. They were, however,
considerably out in their longitude, for they thought that they were on
the Albert, over one hundred miles to the westward.

[Illustration. Scenes on Cooper's Creek (After Howitt).
1. Burke's Grave.
2. Where King was Found.
3. Grave of Wills.]

Having sighted salt water, if not the open sea, they commenced the
retreat. Gray and King were the two men who were with Burke and Wills;
and for equipment they had started with six camels, one horse, and three
months' provisions. Short rations and fatiguing marches now began to
tell, and during the struggle back to the Depot, there seems to have been
an absence of that kindly spirit of comradeship that has so often
distinguished other exploring expeditions fallen on evil days.

Gray became ill, and took some extra flour to make a little gruel with.
For this infringement of rules, Burke personally chastised him. A few
days afterwards, Wills wrote in his diary that they had to halt and send
back for Gray, who was "gammoning" that he could not walk. Nine days
afterwards the unfortunate man died, an act which is not often
successfully "gammoned."

But to bring the miserable story to an end, at last on the evening of the
21st of April, 1861, two months after they had reached the Gulf, they
re-entered the depot camp at Cooper's Creek, where four men had been
instructed to await their return, only to find it deserted and lifeless.
Keenly disappointed, for though they knew they were behind the appointed
time, they had still hoped that some one would have waited for them, they
searched the locality for some sign or message from their friends, and on
a tree saw the word DIG carved. Beneath this message of hope they were
soon busy digging, and before long they unearthed a welcome store of
provisions and a letter, which ran:--

Depot, Cooper's Creek, April 21, 1861.

The depot party of V.E.E.* leaves this camp to-day to return to the
Darling. I intend to go South-East from Camp 60 to get on our old track
at Bulloo. Two of my companions and myself are quite well; the third --
Patton -- has been unable to walk for the last eighteen days as his leg
has been severely hurt when thrown by one of the horses. No person has
been up here from the Darling. We have six camels and twelve horses in
good working condition.

WILLIAM BRAHE.

*[Footnote] Victorian Exploration Expedition.

Unfortunately, this was so worded that when Burke found it the same
night, it gave him the impression that the depot party were all, with one
exception, fairly well; and that, with fresh animals just off a long rest
they would travel long stages on their homeward march. As a matter of
fact, on the evening of the day that Burke returned, they were camped but
fourteen miles away. But this was only the first of a series of singular
and fatal oversights -- that almost seemed pre-ordained by mocking Fate.

Burke consulted his companions as to the feasibility of their overtaking
Brahe, and they both agreed that, in their tired and enfeebled condition,
it was hopeless to attempt it. Burke proposed that instead of returning
up the creek along the old route to Menindie, they should follow the
creek down to Mount Hopeless in South Australia, following the route
taken by A.C. Gregory.* Wills objected to this, and so did King, but
ultimately both gave in, thereby signing their death warrant; for if they
had remained quietly at the depot, they would have been rescued.

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 18.

After resting for five days, and finding their strength much restored by
the food, they started for Mount Hopeless, ill-omened name. Before they
left, Burke placed in the cache a paper, stating that they had returned,
and then carefully restored the ground to its former condition. The
common and natural thought to mark a tree or to make some other
unmistakable sign of their return, does not seem to have occurred to
either of the leaders. It will be seen further on how this scarcely
credible omission was a main factor in deciding their fate.

As they progressed slowly down the creek, one of the two camels became
bogged, and had to be shot where it lay. The wanderers cut off what meat
there was on the body, and stayed two or three days to dry it in the sun.
The one camel had now to carry what they had, except the bundles that the
men bore, each some twenty-five pounds in weight. They made but little
progress; the creek split up into many channels that ran out into earthy
plains; and at last, when their one beast of burden gave in, they had to
acknowledge defeat, and commenced to return. After shooting the wretched
camel and drying his flesh, the men tried to live like the blacks, on
fish and nardoo, the seeds of a small plant of which the natives make
flour. But the struggle for existence was very hard; they were not expert
hunters, and the natives, who were at first friendly and shared their
food with them, soon out-grew the novelty of their presence, began to
find them an encumbrance, and constantly shifted camp to avoid the burden
of their support.

On the 27th of May, Wills went forward alone to visit the depot and
deposit there the journals and a note stating their condition. He reached
there on the 30th and wrote in his diary that "No traces of anyone,
except blacks have been here since we left."

But while they were absent down the creek, Brahe and Wright had visited
the place, and finding no sign of their return, and the cache apparently
untouched, had ridden away concluding that they had not yet come back.
This was the note that Wills left:--

May 30th, 1861. We have been unable to leave the creek. Both camels are
dead. Burke and King are down on the lower part of the creek. I am about
to return to them, when we shall probably all come up here. We are trying
to live the best way we can, like the blacks, but we find it hard work.
Our clothes are going fast to pieces; send provisions and clothes as soon
as possible.

The depot party having left contrary to instructions has put us into this
fix. I have deposited some of my journals here for fear of accidents.

WILLIAM J. WILLS.

Having done this, and once more carefully concealed all traces of the
cache having been disturbed, Wills rejoined his companions in misfortune.
Some friendly natives fed him on his way back to them.

During the intercourse that of necessity they had with the natives along
Cooper's Creek, they had noticed the extensive use made by them of the
seeds of the nardoo plant; but for a long time they had been unable to
find this plant, nor would the blacks show it to them. At last King
accidentally found it, and by its aid they managed to prolong their
lives. But the seeds had to be gathered, cleaned, pounded and cooked; and
in comparison with all this labour the nourishment afforded by the cakes
was very slight. An occasional crow or hawk was shot, and a little fish
now and then begged from the natives. As they were sinking rapidly, it
was at last decided that Burke and King should go up the creek and
endeavour to find the main camp of the natives and obtain food from them.
Wills, who was now so weak as to be unable to move, was left lying under
some boughs, with an eight days' supply of nardoo and water, the others
trusting that within that period they would have returned to him.

On the 26th of June the two men started, and poor Wills was left to meet
death alone. By the entries in his diary, which he kept written up as
long as his strength remained, he evidently retained consciousness almost
to the last. So exhausted was he that death must have come to him as a
merciful release from the pain of living. His last entries, although
giving evidence of fading faculties, are almost cheerful. He jocularly
alludes to himself as Micawber, waiting for something to turn up. But it
is evident that he had given up hope, and was waiting for death's
approach, calm and resigned, without fear, like a good and gallant man.

Burke and King did not advance far. On the second day Burke had to give
in from sheer weakness; the next morning when his companion looked at him
he saw by the breaking light that his leader was dead.

The last entries in Burke's pocket-book run thus:--

"I hope we shall be done justice to. We have fulfilled our task but have
been aban----. We have not been followed up as we expected, and the depot
party abandoned their post...King has behaved nobly. He has stayed with
me to the last, and placed the pistol in my hand, leaving me lying on the
surface as I wished."

Left to himself, King wandered about in search of the natives, and, not
finding them, the lonely man returned to the spot where they had left
Wills, and found that his troubles too were over. He covered up the
corpse with a little sand, and then left once more in search of the
natives. This time he found them, and, moved by his solitary condition,
they helped him to live until rescued by Howitt's party on September
15th.

[Illustration. Edwin J. Welch, second in command of the Howitt Relief
Expedition, and the first man to find King.]

Meanwhile the absence of any news from Wright, in charge of the main
body, was beginning to create a feeling of uneasiness in Melbourne. A
light party had already been equipped under A.W. Howitt to follow up
Burke's tracks, when suddenly despatches from the Darling arrived from
Wright, telling of the non-arrival of the four men. Howitt's party was
doubled, and he was immediately sent off to Cooper's Creek to commence a
search for the missing men. He had not far to go. On the 13th of
September he arrived at the fateful depot camp on Cooper's Creek, with
Brahe. He immediately commenced to follow, or try to follow, Burke's
outward track, but on Sunday the 15th, while still on Cooper's Creek,
King was found by E.J. Welch, the second in command of the relief party.
Welch's account of the finding of King is as follows:--

"After travelling about three miles, my attention was attracted by a
number of <DW65>s on the opposite bank of the creek, who shouted loudly
as soon as they saw me, and vigorously waved and pointed down the creek.
A feeling of something about to happen excited me somewhat, but I little
expected what the sequel was to be. Moving cautiously on through the
undergrowth which lined the banks of the creek, the blacks kept pace on
the opposite side, their cries increasing in volume and intensity; when
suddenly rounding a bend I was startled to see a large body of them
gathered on a sandy neck in the bed of the creek, between two large
waterholes. Immediately they saw me, they too commenced to howl and wave
their weapons in the air. I at once pulled up, and considered the
propriety of waiting the arrival of the party, for I felt far from
satisfied with regard to their intentions. But here, for the first time,
my favourite horse -- a black cob known in the camp as Piggy, a Murray
Downs bred stock-horse of good repute both for foot and temper --
appeared to think that his work was cut out for him, and the time had
arrived in which to do it. Pawing and snorting at the noise, he suddenly
slewed round and headed down the steep bank, through the undergrowth,
straight for the crowd as he had been wont to do after many a mob of
weaners on his native plains. The blacks drew hurriedly back to the top
of the opposite bank, shouting and gesticulating violently, and leaving
one solitary figure apparently covered with some scarecrow rags and part
of a hat prominently alone in the sand. Before I could pull up I had
passed it, and as I passed it tottered, threw up its hands in the
attitude of prayer and fell on the sand. The heavy sand helped me to
conquer Piggy on the level, and when I turned back, the figure had
partially risen.

"Hastily dismounting, I was soon beside it, excitedly asking: 'Who in the
name of wonder are you?' He answered, 'I am King, sir.' For the moment I
did not grasp the thought that the object of our search was attained, for
King being only one of the undistinguished members of the party, his name
was unfamiliar to me.

"'King,' I repeated. 'Yes,' he said; 'the last man of the exploring
expedition.' 'What! Burke's?' 'Yes,' he said. 'Where is he -- and Wills?'
'Dead, both dead, long ago,' and again he fell to the ground.

"Then I knew who stood before me. Jumping into the saddle and riding up
the bank, I fired two or three revolver shots to attract the attention of
the party, and on their coming up, sent the other black boy to cut
Howitt's track and bring him back to camp. We then put up a tent to
shelter the rescued man, and by degrees we got from him the sad story of
the death of his leader. We got it at intervals only, between the long
rests which his exhausted condition compelled him to take."

As soon as King had recovered enough strength to accompany the party,
they went to the place where Wills had breathed his last; and found his
body in the gunyah as King had described it. There it was buried. On the
21st Burke's body was found up the creek; he too was at first buried
where he died. Howitt, after rewarding the blacks who had cared for King,
started back for Melbourne by easy stages. On his arrival there he was
sent back to disinter the remains of the dead; a task which he and Welch
safely accomplished, bringing the bodies down by way of Adelaide.

Dr. Becker, Stone, Purcell, and Patton were the others whose lives were
sacrificed on this expedition, so marked with disaster. These victims
received no token of public recognition of their fate, although a public
funeral was accorded to Burke and Wills, and a statue has been erected to
their memory in Melbourne.

[Illustration. The Burke and Wills Statue, Melbourne.]

The foolish and unaccountable oversight of Burke and his companions in
not marking a tree, or otherwise leaving some recognisable sign of their
return at the depot, seems to have led Brahe astray completely. He states
his side of the case as follows:--

"Mr. Burke's return being so soon after my departure caused the tracks of
his camels to correspond in the character of age exactly with our own
tracks. The remains of three separate fires led us to suppose that blacks
had been camped there...The ground above the cache was so perfectly
restored to the appearance it presented when I left it, that in the
absence of any fresh sign or mark of any description to be seen near, it
was impossible to suppose that it had been disturbed."

The story of the lost explorers created intense excitement throughout the
other colonies. Queensland, as the colony wherein the explorers were
supposed to have met with disaster, sent out two search parties. The
Victoria, a steam sloop, was sent up to the mouth of the Albert River in
the Gulf of Carpentaria, having on board William Landsborough, with
George Bourne as second in command, and a small and efficient party;
another Queensland expedition, under Fred Walker, left the furthest
station in the Rockhampton district; and from South Australia John
McKinlay started to traverse the continent on much the same line of route
as that taken by the unhappy men.



CHAPTER 15. THE RELIEF EXPEDITIONS AND ATTEMPTS TOWARDS PERTH.


15.1. JOHN MCKINLAY.

John McKinlay was born at Sandbank, on the Clyde, in 1819. He first came
to the colony of New South Wales in 1836, and joined his uncle, a
prosperous grazier, under whose guidance he soon became a good bushman
with an ardent love of bush life. He took up several runs near the South
Australian border, and thenceforth became associated with that province.

In 1861 he was appointed leader of the South Australian relief party and
started from Adelaide on October 26th. On arriving at Blanche Water, he
heard a vague rumour from the blacks that white men and camels had been
seen at a distant inland water; but put little faith in the story. He
traversed Lake Torrens, and, striking north, crossed the lower end of
Cooper's Creek at a point where the main watercourse is lost in a maze of
channels. Here he learned definite and particular details respecting the
rumoured white men, and thinking there might be some groundwork of truth
in the report, he now pressed forward to the locality indicated. Having
formed a depot camp, he went ahead with two white men and a native.
Passing through a belt of country with numerous small shallow lakelets,
they came to a watercourse whereon they found signs of a grave, and they
picked up a battered pint-pot. Next morning, feeling sure that the ground
had been disturbed with a spade, they opened what proved to be a grave,
and in it found the body of a European, the skull marked, so McKinlay
states, with two sabre cuts. He noted down the description of the body,
the locality, and its surroundings; and in view of these particulars, it
has been stated that the body was that of Gray, who died in the
neighbourhood.*

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 14.

Considering the minute and circumstantial accounts that have from time to
time been related by the blacks concerning Leichhardt, one is not
astonished at the legends told to McKinlay. The native with him told him
that the whites had been attacked in their camp, and that the whole of
them had been murdered; the blacks having finished by eating the bodies
of the other men, and burying the journals, saddles, and similar portions
of the equipment beside a lake a short distance away. A further search
revealed another grave -- empty -- and there were other and slighter
indications that white men had visited the neighbourhood, so that
McKinlay was led to place some credence in this story.

Next morning a tribe of blacks appeared; and although they immediately
ran away on perceiving the party, one was captured who corroborated the
statement made by the other native. Both of them bore marks on them like
bullet and shot wounds. The second native said that there was a pistol
concealed near a neighbouring lake. He was sent to fetch it; but returned
the next morning at the head of a host of aboriginals, armed, painted,
and evidently bent on mischief. The leader was obliged to order his men
to fire upon them, and it was only after two or three volleys that they
retired.

McKinlay was now satisfied that he had discovered all there was to find
of the Victorian expedition, and, after burying a letter for the benefit
of any after-comers, he left Lake Massacre, as it was mistakenly named,
and returned to the depot camp. His letter was as follows:--

"S.A.B.R. Expedition,

"October 23rd, 1861.

"To the leader of any expedition seeking tidings of Burke and party.

"Sir, I reached this water on the 19th instant, and by means of a native
guide discovered a European camp, one mile north on west side of flat. At
or near this camp, traces of horses, camels, and whites were found. Hair,
apparently belonging to Mr. Wills, Charles Gray, Mr. Burke, or King, was
picked up from the surface of a grave dug by a spade, and from the skull
of a European buried by the natives. Other less important traces -- such
as a pannikin, oil-can, saddle-stuffing, etc., have been found. Beware of
the natives, on whom we have had to fire. We do not intend to return to
Adelaide, but proceed to west of north. From information, all Burke's
party were killed and eaten.

"JNO. MCKINLAY.

"P.S. All the party in good health.

"If you had any difficulty in reaching this spot, and wish to return to
Adelaide by a more practicable route, you may do so for at least three
months to come by driving west eighteen miles, then south of west,
cutting our dray track within thirty miles. Abundance of water and feed
at easy stages."

McKinlay next sent one of his party -- Hodgkinson -- with men and
pack-horses to Blanche Water, to carry down the news of his discovery,
and to bring back rations for a prolonged exploration. Meanwhile he
remained in camp. From one old native with whom he had a long
conversation, he obtained another version of the alleged massacre, in
which there was apparently some vestige of truth.

The new version was to the effect that the whites, on their return, had
been attacked by the natives, but had repulsed them. One white man had
been killed, and had been buried after the fight, whilst the other whites
went south. The natives had then dug up the body and eaten the flesh. The
old fellow also described minutely the different waters passed by Burke,
and the way in which the men subsisted on the seeds of the nardoo plant,
all of which he must have heard from other natives.

After waiting a month, Hodgkinson returned, bringing the news of the
rescue of King and the fate of Burke and Wills. This explained McKinlay's
discovery as that of Gray's body, the narrative of the fight and massacre
being merely ornamental additions by the natives. After an easterly
excursion, in which he visited the two graves on Cooper's Creek, McKinlay
started definitely north. It is difficult to follow without a map the
Journal containing the record of his travel during the first weeks. Not
only does he give the native name of every small lakelet and waterhole in
full, but he omits to give the bearing of his daily course.

A northerly course was however, in the main pursued, and Mckinlay
describes the country crossed as first-class pastoral land. As it was
then the dry season of the year, immediately preceding the rains, it
proves what an abnormally severe season must have been encountered by
Sturt when that explorer was turned back on his last trip in much the
same latitude. On the 27th of February, the wet season of the tropics set
in; but fortunately the party found a refuge among some stony hills and
sand-ridges, in the neighbourhood of which they were camped, though at
one time they were completely surrounded by water. On March 10th, the
rain had abated sufficiently to allow them to resume their journey; but
the main creek which they still continued to follow up north was so boggy
and swollen that they were forced to keep some distance from its banks.
This river, which McKinlay called the Mueller, is one of the main rivers
of Central Australia, and an important affluent of Lake Eyre, and is now
known as the Diamantina. McKinlay left it at the point where it comes
from the north-west, and following up a tributary, he crossed the
dividing range, there called the McKinlay Range, in about the same
locality as Burke's crossing. He had christened many of the inland
watercourses on his way across, but most of his names have been replaced
by others, it having been difficult subsequently to identify them. In
many cases, the watercourses which he thought to be independent creeks,
are but ana-branches of the Diamantina.

Passing through good travelling country, and finding ample grass and
water, he reached the Leichhardt River flowing into the Gulf of
Carpentaria, on the 6th of May.

As his rations were becoming perilously low, McKinlay was anxious to get
to the mouth of the Albert, it having been understood that Captain
Norman, with the steam-ship Victoria was there to form a depot for the
use of the Queensland search parties. His attempts to reach it however,
were fruitless, as he was continually turned back by mangrove creeks both
broad and deep, and by boggy flats; so that on the 21st of May he started
for the nearest settled district in North Queensland, in the direction of
Port Denison.

He followed much the same route as that taken by A.C. Gregory on his
return from the Victoria River.* Crossing on to the head of the Burdekin,
he followed that river down, trusting to come across some of the flocks
and herds of the advancing settlers. On reaching Mount McConnell, where
the two former explorers had crossed the Burdekin, he continued to follow
the river, and descended the coast range where it forces its way through
a narrow gorge. Here on the Bowen River, he arrived at a temporary
station just formed by Phillip Somer, where he received all the
accustomed hospitality. Since leaving the Gulf, the explorers had
subsisted on little else but horse and camel flesh, and were necessarily
in a weak condition. Had they but camped a day or two when on the upper
course of the Burdekin, they would have been relieved much earlier, for
the pioneer squatters were already there, and the party would have been
spared a rough trip through the Burdekin Gorge. In fact the tracks of the
camels were seen by one pioneer at least, a few hours after the caravan
had passed. E. Cunningham, who had just then formed Burdekin Downs
station, tells with much amusement how McKinlay's tracks puzzled him and
his black boy. The Burdekin pioneers did not of course, expect McKinlay's
advent amongst them, although they knew that he was then somewhere out
west; and such an animal as a camel did not enter into their
calculations. Cunningham said that the only solution of the problem of
the footprints that he could think of was that the tracks were those of a
return party who had been looking for new country, and that their horses,
having lost their shoes and becoming footsore, they had wrapped their
feet in bandages.

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 18.

For his services on this expedition which were of great value in opening
up Central Australia, McKinlay was presented with a gold watch by the
Royal Geographical Society, and was voted 1,000 pounds by the South
Australian Government.

During the early settlement of the Northern Territory, much
dissatisfaction had arisen concerning the site chosen at Escape Cliffs.
McKinlay was sent north by the South Australian Government to select a
more favourable position, and to report generally on the capabilities of
the new territory. He organized an expedition at Escape Cliffs, and left
with the intention of making a long excursion to the eastward. But a very
wet season set in, and he had reached only the East Alligator River when
sudden floods cut him off and hemmed him in. The whole party would have
been destroyed but for the resourcefulness displayed by the leader, who
made coracles of horse-hides stretched on frames of saplings, by which
means they escaped. On his return, McKinlay examined the mouth of the
Daly River, and recommended Anson Bay as a more suitable site, but his
suggestion was not adopted. McKinlay, whose health suffered from the
effect of the hardships incident to his journeys, retired to spend his
days in the congenial atmosphere of pastoral pursuits, and died, in 1874,
at Gawler, South Australia, where a monument is erected to his memory.

15.2. WILLIAM LANDSBOROUGH.

William Landsborough, the son of a Scotch physician, was born in Ayrshire
and educated at Irvine. When he came to Australia, he settled first in
the New England district of New South Wales, and thence removed to
Queensland. In 1856, his interest in discovery and a desire to find new
country led him to undertake much private exploration, principally on the
coastal parts of Queensland, in the district of Broadsound and the Isaacs
River. In 1858 he explored the Comet to its head, and in the following
year the head waters of the Thomson.

An old friend and erstwhile comrade, writing of him, says:
"Landsborough's enterprise was entirely founded on self-reliance. He had
neither Government aid nor capitalists at his back when he achieved his
first success as an explorer. He was the very model of a pioneer --
courageous, hardy, good-humoured, and kindly. He was an excellent
horseman, a most entertaining and, at times, eccentric companion, and he
could starve with greater cheerfulness than any man I ever saw or heard
of. But, excellent fellow though he was, his very independence of
character and success in exploring provoked much ill-will."

Landsborough was recommended for the position of leader by the veteran
A.C. Gregory, and on the 14th of August he left Brisbane in the Firefly,
having on board a party of volunteer assistants who had been stirred by
the widespread sympathy with the missing men to take an active part in
the relief expedition. Unfortunately, those under Landsborough were, with
one exception, unacquainted with bush life. The exception was George
Bourne, the second in command, an old squatter who had seen and suffered
many a long drought, and whose services proved to be of great value.
After some mishap the Firefly, convoyed by the Victoria, reached the
mouth of the Albert River, where the party was safely landed.

After starting from the Albert, Landsborough came unexpectedly upon a
river hitherto unknown. It flowed into the Nicholson, and both Leichhardt
and Gregory had crossed below the confluence. It was a running stream
with much semi-tropical foliage on its banks, running through
well-grassed, level country, and he named it the Gregory. As they neared
the higher reaches of the Gregory, they found the country of a more arid
nature. They ascended the main range, and on the 21st of December,
Landsborough found an inland river flowing south, which he named the
Herbert. The Queensland authorities subsequently re-christened the stream
with the singularly inappropriate name of Georgina. In this river two
fine sheets of water were found, and called Lake Frances and Lake Mary.
An ineffectual attempt was then made to go westward, but lack of water
compelled them to desist.

Landsborough now returned to the depot by way of the Gregory, and, on
arriving there, learnt that Walker had been in and had reported having
seen the tracks of Burke and Wills on the Flinders. Landsborough
thereupon resolved to return by way of the Flinders, instead of going
back by boat. They had very little provisions, but by reducing the number
of the party, they managed to subsist on short allowance. On this second
trip, he followed the Flinders up, and was rewarded by being the first
white man to see the beautiful prairie-like country through which it
flows. He named the remarkable isolated hills visible from the river Fort
Bowen, Mount Brown and Mount Little. From the upper Flinders he struck
south, hoping to come across a newly-formed station, but was
disappointed, though he saw numerous horse-tracks showing that settlement
was near at hand. At last after enduring a long period of
semi-starvation, they reached the Warrego, and at the station of Neilson
and Williams, first learnt the fate of those whom they had been seeking.

Landsborough was next appointed Resident at Burketown, and afterwards
Inspector of Brands for the district of East Moreton. He died in 1886.

15.3. P.E. WARBURTON.

[Illustration. Major Warburton.]

Major Warburton was the fourth son of the Reverend Rowland Warburton of
Arley Hall, Cheshire, where he was born on the 15th of August, 1813. He
was first educated in France. He entered the Royal Navy in 1826, and in
1829 proceeded to Addiscombe College, preparatory to entering the East
India Company's service, in which he served from 1831 to 1853, when he
retired with the rank of Major. In 1853 he arrived at Albany. From there
he went on to Adelaide, and at the end of the same year was appointed
Commissioner of Police, an office which he held until he was placed in
charge of the Imperial Pension Department. On his return from his
exploring expedition he was voted 1,000 pounds for himself, and 500
pounds for his party. He was created a C.M.G. in 1875, was awarded the
Gold Medal of the Royal Geographical Society of London, and he died in
1889.

In 1873 two prominent South Australian colonists, whose names are
intimately connected with the promotion of exploration in that colony,
Thomas Elder and Walter Hughes, fitted out an expedition which it was
hoped would lead to the rapid advancement of geographical knowledge.
Unfortunately the result was not commensurate with the ambitious nature
of the undertaking. The command was given to Major Warburton, who was
instructed to start from the neighbourhood of Central Mount Stuart, and
to steer a course direct to Perth. In spite of being provided with a long
string of camels, Warburton incurred so much delay in getting through the
sandhills that his camels were knocked up and his provisions nearly all
consumed before he had advanced half-way. This compelled him to bear up
north to the head waters of the Oakover River. Besides the leader, the
party consisted of his son Richard; Lewis, a surveyor; one more white
man; two Afghans; and a native. Lewis, the surveyor, showed himself to be
a most capable man; in fact, but for his energy and forethought, the
expedition would have been swallowed up in the sands of the north-west
desert.

On the 15th of April, 1873, the explorers left Alice Springs and followed
the overland line until they reached a creek called Burt's Creek, whence
they struck to the westward. After a vain search for the rivers Hugh and
Finke, which were popularly supposed to rise to the north of the
McDonnell Ranges, Warburton altered his course to the north-west, meaning
to connect with A.C. Gregory's most southerly point on Sturt's Creek. For
some distance his way led him through available pastoral country, and in
some of the minor ranges beautiful glens were discovered with deep pools
of water in their beds. So frightened were the camels by the rocks that
surrounded them, that they would not approach them to drink. On the 22nd
of May, after travelling for some days in poor sandy country, they came
to a good creek with a full head. The whole flat, on to which the creek
emerged from the hills, was one vast spring. This place, the best camp
they had yet met with, was named Eva Springs. Leaving the main body
resting at these springs, the leader, with two companions, started ahead,
and was successful in finding some native wells that enabled him to break
up his main camp and advance with all the men and material.

On the 5th of June they crossed the boundary-line between the two
colonies, and found themselves on the scrubby, sandy tableland common to
the interior. At some native wells, which were called Waterloo Wells,
they made an enforced sojourn of about a month; in addition they lost
three camels, and one of the Afghans nearly died of scurvy. When they
were at last enabled to leave the Waterloo Wells, they found themselves
plunged into the salt lake country, where the native inhabitants exist on
shallow wells and soakage springs. By their reckoning they were now
within ten miles of Gregory's Sturt's Creek; but though Warburton made
two separate attempts to find the place, he was unable to recognise any
country that at all resembled the description given by Gregory.
Rightfully ascribing this disappointment to an error in his longitude, he
proceeded on a westerly course once more. The tale of each day's journey
now becomes a dreary record of travels across a monotonous barren
country, and an incessant search for native wells, their only means of
sustaining life.

In addition to other causes for delay, the excessive heat caused by
radiation from the surrounding sandhills during the day compelled the
leader to spare his camels as much as possible by travelling at night.
This naturally led to a most unsatisfactory inspection of the country
traversed, and it was impossible to say what clues to water were passed
by unwittingly.

Starvation now commenced to press close upon them; the constant delays
had so reduced their store of provisions that they were almost at the end
of their resources, whilst still surrounded by the endless desert of
sand-ridges and spinifex. Sickness, too, befel them, so that almost the
full brunt of the work of the expedition was placed upon the capable
shoulders of Lewis and the black boy Charley. The time of these two was
taken up in watching the smoke of the fires of the natives, or in looking
for their tracks. During the early morning and in the evening they could
travel a little, but at night the myriad swarms of ants prevented the
tired men from obtaining their natural sleep. If they stopped to rest the
camels, they only prolonged their own starvation; yet without rest the
camels could not carry them ahead in the search for water. On the 9th of
October, the camels strayed away during the night, but luckily came
across a small waterhole, and at this welcome spot the party rested for a
while; indeed with the exception of Lewis and the native, they were all
too weak to do aught else. They slaughtered a camel, and were fortunate
to shoot a few pigeons and galah parrots, the fresh meat restoring a
little of their strength. They had long since despaired of carrying out
the original purpose of the expedition. All that they could hope for was
to struggle on with the last remaining flicker of life to the nearest
settled country. This was the Oakover River, on the north coast, and to
the head of the Oakover, therefore, their worn-out camels were directed.
They could entertain no hope of relief before reaching the Oakover, for
the discoverer of that river, Frank Gregory, a man always reluctant to
acknowledge defeat, had been turned from the southward attempt by this
very desert across which they were painfully toiling. On the evening that
they started for the station, the whole party were about to ride blindly
on into waterless country, where, but for the black boy, they would all
have perished. The boy had left the camp early in the morning, and,
having come across the fresh tracks of some natives, followed them up to
their camp, where he found a well. He hastened back to the party to tell
them of his discovery, only to find that they had gone. Fortunately he
had sharp ears, and hearing the distant receding tinkle of the camel
bell, by dint of energetically pushing on and cooeeing loudly, he managed
to attract their attention, and then led them back to the new source of
relief. Lewis and the black boy were now the eyes and ears of the party,
and but for them the expedition would never have reached the river.

A fresh start was made after a welcome halt at this well. Warburton and
his son could scarcely sit their camels, and followed the weary caravan
almost with apathy. On the 14th of November Charley found another native
well; but its discovery nearly cost him his life. When close to the
native camp, he had gone ahead by himself, as he usually did, so as not
to startle the aboriginals. The blacks received him kindly and gave him
water, but when he cooeed for his companion, they took sudden alarm and
attacked him. They had speared him in the arm and back, and cut his head
open with a club when Lewis came up just in time to rescue him. Evidently
this attack was not premeditated, but caused by the sudden fear aroused
by the sight of the white men and camels. At this well Lewis and one of
the Afghans went ahead to strike the head of the Oakover, for they
thought they must be drawing near the coast, as the nights were growing
cool and dewy, and they had found traces of white iron work in an old
camp. In a week Lewis returned, having reached a tributary of the river;
and on the 5th of December the whole party arrived at the rocky creek
that he had found.

They now proceeded slowly down the Oakover, but came across no sign of
occupation. The indefatigable Lewis had therefore again to go ahead for
help whilst the others waited for him, living on the flesh of the last
camel. He had 170 miles to journey over before he reached the cattle
station belonging to Grant, Harper, and Anderson, where he was
immediately supplied with horses and provisions to take back to the
starving men.

It was on the 29th of December as Warburton was lying in the shade
thinking moodily that the station must have been abandoned, and that
Lewis had surely been compelled to push on to Roebourne, when the black
boy from a tree-top gave a cheerful signal. Starting to their feet, the
astonished men found the pack-horses and the relief party almost in their
camp.

Of the seventeen camels with which they had started, the two that Lewis
had taken on to the station were the only survivors; and all their
equipment had been abandoned piecemeal in the desert.

15.4. WILLIAM CHRISTIE GOSSE.

[Illustration. William Christie Gosse, Deputy Surveyor-General of South
Australia.]

On the 23rd of April, about a week after the departure of Warburton,
William Christie Gosse, Deputy Surveyor-General of South Australia, also
left Alice Springs on an exploring expedition, having been appointed by
the South Australian Government to take charge of the Central and Western
Exploring Expedition. Like Warburton, he was frustrated by dry country in
his endeavour to reach Perth. He had with him both white men and Afghan
camel drivers, and a mixed outfit of horses and camels. He left the
telegraph line and struck westward, soon finding himself in very dry
country, where he lost one horse on a dry stage. He made a depot camp on
a creek which he called the Warburton, and while on an excursion from
this camp he had the singular experience of riding all day through heavy
rain and camping at night without water, the sandy soil having quickly
absorbed the downpour. On his return he found that the creek at the camp
was running, and though repeated attempts had been made by the Afghans to
goad one of the camels over, the animal obstinately refused to cross.
Probably the leader thought that it was fortunate for the progress of the
expedition that they were not likely to meet with many more running
streams. After passing both Warburton's tracks and those of Giles, Gosse
reached the extreme western point of the Macdonnell Ranges, where another
stationary camp was pitched. The leader made a long excursion to the
south-west, and at 84 miles, after passing over sand-ridges and spinifex
country, caught sight of a remarkable hill, that on a nearer approach
proved to be of singular limestone formation.

"When I got clear of the sandhills, and was only two miles distant, and
the hill, for the first time coming fairly in view, what was my
astonishment to find it was one immense rock rising abruptly from the
plain; the holes I had noticed were caused by the water in some places
causing immense caves."

This hill, which Gosse made an ineffectual attempt to ascend, he called
Ayer's Rock. He returned to his depot camp, crossing an arm of Lake
Amadeus as he did so, and moved the main body on to Ayer's Rock. Rain
having set in heavily for some days, he pushed some distance into Western
Australia, but soon reached the limit of the rainfall. After many
attempts to penetrate the sand-hill region which confronted him, the heat
and aridity compelled him to turn back.

His homeward course was by way of the Musgrave Ranges, where he found a
greater extent of pastoral country than had been thought to exist there.
He discovered and christened the Marryat, and followed down the Alberga
to within sixty miles of the Overland Line, when he turned north-eastward
to the Charlotte Waters station.

Although Gosse's exploration did not add any important new features, he
filled in many details in the central map, and was able correctly to lay
down the position of some of the discoveries of Ernest Giles.

William Christie Gosse was the son of Dr. Gosse, and was born in 1842 at
Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire. He had come to Australia with his father in
1850, and in 1859 had entered the Government service of South Australia.
He held various positions in the survey department, and, after his return
from the exploring expedition, he was made Deputy Surveyor-General. He
died prematurely on August 12th, 1881.



CHAPTER 16. TRAVERSING THE CENTRE.

[Illustration. Ernest Giles.

Illustration. Baron Sir Ferdinand von Mueller.]


16.1. ERNEST GILES.

Ernest Giles was born at Bristol, a famous birthplace of adventurous
spirits. He was educated at Christ's Hospital, London, and after leaving
school came out to South Australia to join his parents, who had preceded
him thither. In 1852 he went to the Victorian goldfields, and
subsequently became a clerk, first in the Post Office, Melbourne, and
afterwards in the county court.

Having resigned his clerkship, he pursued a bush life, and in 1872 made
his first effort in the field of exploration. His party was a small one,
the funds being found by contributions from S. Carmichael, one of the
party, Baron von Mueller, Giles himself, and one of his relatives. The
members of the expedition were Giles, Carmichael, and Robinson; 15 horses
and a little dog were included in the equipment. They started from
Chambers Pillar, and it was on this journey that Lake Amadeus and Mount
Olga were discovered, the two most enduring physical features whose
discovery we owe to Giles. The lake is a long narrow salt-pan of
considerable size, but without any important affluents; Mount Olga is a
singular mountain situated about 50 miles from the lake. On this trip
Giles went over much untrodden country, but the smallness of the party at
last convinced him that it was beyond their frugal means to force their
way through the desert country to the settlements of West Australia.
Giles was fortunate on this his first trip in having two able and willing
bushmen for his companions; otherwise he would not have progressed as far
as he did and returned in safety. But most untiring endeavours will not
compensate for the lack of numbers, and Giles was forced to return beaten
from his first attempt.

His second expedition took place about the same time as that undertaken
by Gosse. In consequence of a stirring appeal by Baron von Mueller, he
had now the advantage of both substantial private help and a small sum
from the South Australian Government. The party numbered four: W.H.
Tietkins, who afterwards made an honourable name as an independent
explorer; the unfortunate Alfred Gibson; and a lad named Andrews, in
addition to the leader.

Giles left the settled district at the Alberga, and made several
determined efforts to push through the sandy spinifex desert that had
baffled so many. It was during one of these forlorn hopes that Gibson
died.

Anxious to reach a range which he had sighted in the distance, and where
he hoped to find a change of country, Giles made up his mind to make a
determined effort to reach it, carrying a supply of water with him on
pack-horses. As usual, Tietkins was to accompany him, but as Gibson
complained of having been always previously left in camp, he was allowed
to go instead. The two kept doggedly on, the horses, as they gave in,
being left to find their way back to the main camp. At last, when several
days out, they had but two horses left. Giles sent Gibson back on one,
with instructions to push on for the camp, taking what little water he
wanted out of a keg they had buried on their outward way, leaving the
remainder for his use. He himself intended to make a final effort to
reach the range.

Giles's horse soon gave in after they parted, and he had to start to
return on foot. On his weary way back he saw that one of the abandoned
horses had turned off from the trail, and that Gibson's tracks turned off
too, seemingly following it. When he reached the keg, he found that the
contents were untouched. Fearing greatly that the unfortunate man's fate
was sealed, Giles dragged himself on to the camp. A search was at once
instituted, but it was fruitless. Neither man nor horse was ever seen
again; and the scene of his fate is known as Gibson's Desert.

During his excursions in various directions, Giles discovered and
traversed four different ranges of hills. The party were much worried by
the hostility of the blacks, and, what with the uneasiness caused by
their attacks, the plague of myriads of ants, the loss of Gibson, and the
failure of their own hopes, they were forced to return to Adelaide,
baffled for a time, but not beaten.

We thus see how the arid belt of the middle country had defied three
different explorers -- Warburton, Gosse, and Giles -- one equipped with
camels only, one with camels and horses, and one who had relied on horses
alone.

[Illustration. A Camel Caravan in an Australian Desert.]

In 1875 Giles took the field once more. This time, owing to the
generosity of Sir Thomas Elder, of South Australia, he was well-prepared.
He had a fine caravan of camels, and had his former companion Tietkins
with him, besides a completely-equipped party.

The start was made from Beltana, the next halting-place being Youldeh,
where a depot was formed. From this place they shifted north to a native
well, Oaldabinna. As the water supply here proved but scanty, Giles
started off to the westward to search for a better place, sending
Tietkins to the north on a similar errand accompanied by Young.

Giles pushed his way for 150 miles through scrub and past shallow
lakelets of salt water until he came to a native well or dam, containing
a small supply of water. Beyond this he went another 30 miles, but
finding himself amongst saline swamps and scrub, he then returned to the
depot. Tietkins and his companion were not so successful. At their
furthest point they had come across a large number of natives, who, after
decamping in a terrified manner, returned fully armed and painted for
war. No attempts of the two white men to open friendly communication or
to obtain any information from them had succeeded.

A slight shower of rain having replenished the well they were camped at,
Giles determined to make a bold push to the west, trusting to the powers
of endurance of his camels to carry him on to water.

On reaching the dam that he had formerly visited, he was agreeably
surprised to find that it had been nearly filled by the late rains. As it
now contained plenty of water for their wants, and there was good feed
all around, they rested by it until the supply of water began to show
signs of declining.

On the 16th of September, 1875, he left the Boundary Dam, as he called
it, and commenced to try conclusions with the desert to the westward. For
the first six days of their march the caravan passed through scrubs of
oak, mulga, and sandalwood; next they entered upon vast plains
well-grassed, with salt-bush and other edible shrubs growing upon them.
Crossing these, the camel train again passed through scrub, but not so
dense as before.

When 250 miles had been accomplished, Giles distributed amongst the
camels the water he had carried with him. As they kept on, sand-ridges
began to make their appearance, native smoke was often seen, and they
frequently crossed the tracks of the natives.

On the seventeenth day from the Boundary Dam, Tietkins, who judged by the
appearance of the sandhills that there was water in the neighbourhood,
sent the black boy Tommy on to a ridge lying south of their course. It
was fortunate that he did so, for hidden in a hollow surrounded by
sandhills was a tiny lake which they were passing by unheeded until Tommy
arrested their progress with frantic shouts. Giles gave this place of
succour, which he should have named after his companion, the commonplace
name of Victoria Spring; and here the caravan rested for nine days.

Recruited and in good spirits, they soon found themselves amongst the
distinctive features of the inner <DW72>s of Western Australia -- outcrops
of granite mounds and boulders, salt lakes, and bogs. Their next camp of
relief was at a native well 200 miles from Victoria Spring.

The quietude of their life at this encampment was however rudely broken
by the natives. During their stay they had had friendly intercourse with
the blacks, but no suspicions of treachery had been aroused. The
explorers were just concluding their evening meal when Young saw a mob of
armed and painted natives approaching. He caught sight of them in time to
give the alarm to the others, who stood to their arms. Giles says in his
journal that they were "a perfectly armed and drilled force," though
military discipline was a singular characteristic to find amongst the
blacks of this barren region. A discharge of firearms from the whites
checked their assailants before any spears had been thrown, and probably
prevented the massacre of the whole party.

On leaving this camp the caravan travelled through dense scrub, with
occasional hills and patches of open country intervening. They were
fortunate to find some wells on the way, and on the 4th of November
arrived at an outside sheep-station in the settled districts of Western
Australia, and Giles's long-cherished ambition was at last fulfilled.

The result of this trip was satisfactory to Giles, who thus saw his many
fruitless, though gallant efforts, at last crowned with success; but the
journey had no substantial geographical or economic results. It resembled
Warburton's in having been a hasty flight with camels through an unknown
country, marking only a thin line on the map of Australia. An explorer
with the means at his command, in the shape of camels, of venturing on
long dry stages with impunity, is tempted to sacrifice extended
exploration of the country bordering his route and the deeper and more
valuable knowledge that it brings to rapidity of onward movement. John
Forrest, for example, was able, owing to the many minor excursions he was
forced to make because of the nature of his equipment, to gain infinitely
more knowledge of the geographical details of the country he passed over
than either Warburton or Giles.

Giles now retraced his steps to South Australia, following a line to the
northward of Forrest's track. He went by way of the Murchison, and
crossed over the Gascoyne to the Ashburton, which he followed up to its
head. Then striking to the south of east, he cut his former track of 1873
at the Alfred and Marie Range, the range he had so ardently striven to
reach when the unfortunate man Gibson died. How futile was the vain
attempt that led to Gibson's death he now realised. He finally arrived at
the Peake telegraph station. Few watercourses were crossed; the country
was suffering under extreme drought; and no discoveries of importance
were made.

Giles published a narrative of his explorations entitled Australia Twice
Traversed. He was a gold medallist of the Royal Geographical Society. He
entered the West Australian Government service on the Coolgardie
goldfields, and, on the 13th of November, 1897, died at Coolgardie, West
Australia, where the Western Australian Government erected a monument to
his memory.

16.2. W.H. TIETKINS AND OTHERS.

[Illustration. W.H. Tietkins, 1878.]

W.H. Tietkins was born in London on the 30th of August, 1844, and was
educated at Christ's Hospital. He arrived in Adelaide in September, 1859,
and took to bush life and subsequently survey-work. On the conclusion of
his exploring expeditions with Ernest Giles, he engaged in the survey of
Yorke's Peninsula for the South Australian Government, and then paid a
visit to England. On his return he went to Sydney, and did some survey
work for the New South Wales Government into whose service he permanently
entered. He is now a Lands Inspector on the South Coast.

After his experiences as second with Ernest Giles, Tietkins took charge,
in 1889, of the Central Australian Exploring Expedition. He left Alice
Springs on the overland line on the 14th of March to examine the hitherto
unknown country to the north and west of Lake Amadeus. Late in the month
of May he discovered and named the Kintore Range, to the north-west of
Lake Macdonald, and ascended one of the elevations, Mount Leisler. During
the beginning of the next month he practically completed the circuit of
Lake Macdonald and discovered the Bonython Ranges to the south-east. On
his return journey, Tietkins corrected the somewhat exaggerated notion
entertained as to the extent of Lake Amadeus, as he passed through sixty
miles of country supposed to be contained in its area without seeing a
vestige of this natural feature. In after years he surveyed and correctly
fixed its location.

In 1874, surveyor Lewis, the gallant and tireless spirit whose
indefatigable efforts had pulled the Warburton Expedition out of the fire
took charge of an expedition equipped by Sir Thomas Elder to define the
many affluents of Lake Eyre. Starting from the overland line, Lewis
skirted Lake Eyre to the north, penetrated to Eyre's Creek, traced that
stream and the Diamantina into Lake Eyre, and confirmed the opinion that
the waters of Cooper's Creek as well as the more westerly streams found
their way into that inland sea. J.W. Lewis afterwards died in Broome,
Western Australia.

In 1875 the Queensland Government decided to send out an expedition to
ascertain the amount of pastoral country that existed to the westward of
the Diamantina River. It was placed in charge of W.O. Hodgkinson, who had
occupied a subordinate position in the Burke and Wills expedition. They
started from the upper reaches of the Cloncurry and, crossing the main
dividing range on to the Diamantina, followed that river down to the
southern boundary of Queensland, where it had been named the Everard by
Lewis. This portion was now well-known, and the tracks of the pioneers'
stock were everywhere visible. From the lower Diamantina, the party went
westwards, and, beyond Eyre's Creek, in good pastoral country, came upon
a watercourse which was named the Mulligan. This creek Hodgkinson
followed up to the north; and, not knowing that he had crossed its head
watershed, went on down the Herbert (Georgina) under the impression that
he was still on the Mulligan. He was undeceived when he overtook N.
Buchanan with cattle, who was then engaged in re-stocking the stations on
the Herbert that had been abandoned in the commercial depression of 1872
and 1873. This was the last exploring expedition sent out by the
Queensland authorities, the country within the bounds of that colony
being by that time all known.

But across the western border, the vacant and unknown country of South
Australia attracted many private expeditions to examine it in search of
pastoral holdings. Amongst those from Queensland were two brothers named
Prout, who, with one man, went out to look for new grazing lands, and
never returned. Many months afterwards a search party, under W.J.H.
Carr-Boyd, found some of the horses, and then the remains of one of the
brothers. It was evident from the fragments of a diary recovered, that
they had pushed far into the dry region of South Australia, and had met
their deaths from thirst on the return journey. Probably some of the
waters on which they had relied had unexpectedly failed.

In 1878, Nathaniel Buchanan, a veteran pioneer and overlander of
Queensland, made an excursion from the Queensland border to Tennant's
Creek on the overland telegraph line. Starting from the Ranken, a
tributary of the Georgina, Buchanan struck a westerly course, and
discovering the head of a well-watered creek running through fine open
downs, he followed it down to the westward for some days. The creek
eventually ran out into dry flats, so Buchanan struck westward to the
telegraph line, which he reached after some hardship, a little to the
south of Tennant's Creek. The creek which he discovered, and to which
Favenc afterwards gave the name of Buchanan's Creek, was a most important
discovery, affording a practicable stock route to the great pastoral
district lying between the Queensland border and the overland line.

Frank Scarr, a Queensland surveyor, was the next to invade this strip of
still unknown land. He attempted to steer a course south of Buchanan's,
but was turned back by the dry belt of country. On this excursion he also
found two of the horses of the ill-fated Prout brothers. Scarr then made
further north, and, with the assistance of the creek discovered by
Buchanan, was enabled to reach the line. Owing to the severity of the
drought, however, he was unable to extend his researches any further, and
returned safely to Queensland.

[Illustration. Ernest Favenc.]

In 1878, a project for a railway line on the land-grant principle between
Brisbane and Port Darwin was originated in the former city. The
proprietor of the leading Brisbane newspaper, Gresley Lukin, organized
and equipped a party to explore a suitable line of country, the object
being to ascertain the nature and value of the land in the neighbourhood
of the proposed line, and the geographical features of the unexplored
portion. The leader was Ernest Favenc, who was accompanied by surveyor
Briggs, G. Hedley, and a black boy. They left Cork station on the
Diamantina, and kept a north-west course through the untraversed country
between that river and the Georgina, or Herbert, as it was then called.
They then crossed the border into South Australia, and struck the creek
which Buchanan had found, and to which the name of Buchanan's Creek was
now given. Leaving this creek at the lowest water, the party struck
north, and, after finding two large but shallow lakes, came, in the midst
of most excellent pastoral country, to a fine lagoon which they named the
Corella Lagoon. The trees on the banks of this lagoon, which was about
four miles long, were at the time of the visit white with myriads of
corella parrots; hence the name. Some three hundred natives were
assembled at this lagoon to celebrate their tribal rites; but they showed
a friendly disposition.

From the Corella Lagoon the expedition proceeded north and discovered a
large creek running from east to west. It proved to be one of the
principal creeks of that region, and was named Cresswell Creek; and a
permanent lagoon on it was named the Anthony Lagoon. Cresswell Creek was
followed down until, like its fellow creek the Buchanan, it too was
absorbed in dry, parched flats. The last permanent water on Cresswell
Creek was named the Adder Waterholes, on account of the large number of
death-adders that were killed there. A dry stage of ninety miles now
intervened between the party and the telegraph line, and the first
attempt to cross, on a day of terrible heat, resulted in a return to the
Adder Camp, three horses having succumbed to the heat, thirst, and the
cracked and fissured arid plains. It being the height of the summer
season, and no water within a reasonable distance, it was evidently
useless to sacrifice any more horses. There was nothing to do, therefore,
but to await at the last camp the fall of a kindly thundershower, by
means of which they might bridge the dry gap between them and the line.

The long delay exhausted the supply of rations, but by means of birds --
ducks and pigeons -- horseflesh, and the usual edible bush plants --
blue-bush and pigweed -- the party fared sufficiently well.

During their detention at this camp, many short excursions were made, and
the country traversed was found to be mostly richly grassed downs. Where
flooded country was encroached upon, the dry beds of former lakes were
found, encircled in all cases with a ring of dead trees.

In January, 1879, the thunderstorms set in, and the party reached
Powell's Creek telegraph station in safety.

This expedition opened up a good deal of fine pastoral country, which is
now all stocked and settled.

Western Australia was still busy in the field of exploration. In 1876
Adam Johns and Phillip Saunders started from Roebourne and crossed to the
overland line in South Australia. Ostensibly theirs was a prospecting
expedition; but as the country to the eastward of the Fitzroy River was
then unknown, it was an important exploration event. They were
unsuccessful in finding gold, but on their arrival at the line they
reported having passed through good pastoral country.

There is no doubt that the east and west tracks of the Queensland
explorers, and of Alexander Forrest,* did more to throw open that part of
Australia to settlement than did the north and south journey of Stuart,
more important as that one was from the purely geographical point of
view. Stuart led the way across the centre of the continent, but even
after the telegraph line was constructed on his route, very little was
known of the country to the east and the west.

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 19.

The South Australian Government had several times made slight attempts to
reach the Queensland border, but in 1878, they sent out H.V. Barclay to
make a trigonometrical survey of most of the untraversed country between
the line and the Queensland boundary. Barclay left Alice Springs, of
which station he first fixed the exact geographical position by a series
of telegraphic exchanges with the observatory in Adelaide. Barclay had
much dry country to contend against, but managed to reach a north point
close to Scarr's furthest south. He did not, however, on that occasion,
actually arrive at the Queensland border, but explored the territory on
the South Australian side. During the conduct of the survey he discovered
and named the Jervois Ranges, the spurs of the eastern MacDonnell, and
the following tributaries of Lake Eyre -- the Hale, the Plenty, the
Marshall, and the Arthur Rivers.

In 1883, Favenc, on a private expedition to report on pastoral country,
traced the heads of several of the rivers of the Carpentarian Gulf, and
in the following year left the north Newcastle Waters to examine and
trace the Macarthur River. The river was followed from its source to the
sea, and a large extent of valuable pastoral country and several
permanent springs found in its valley; a large tributary, the Kilgour,
was also discovered and named. These short excursions, and some
exploratory trips made by MacPhee, east of Daly Waters, may be said to
have concluded exploration between the line and the Queensland border.

In 1883, the South Australian Government despatched an expedition in
charge of David Lindsay to complete the survey of Arnhem's Land. Lindsay
left the Katherine station, and proceeded to Blue Mud Bay. On the way the
party had a narrow escape of massacre at the hands of the blacks, who
speared four horses, and made an attempt to surprise the camp of the
whites. Lindsay had trouble with his horses in the stony, broken
tableland that had nearly baffled Leichhardt; and from one misfortune and
another, lost a great number of them. In fact, at one time, so rough was
the country that he anticipated having to abandon his horses and make his
way into the telegraph station on foot. On the whole, however, the
country was favourably reported on, particularly with regard to tropical
agriculture.

Another journey was undertaken about this time by O'Donnell and
Carr-Boyd, who left the Katherine River and pushed across the border into
Western Australia. They succeeded in finding a large amount of pastoral
country; but no important geographical discoveries were made.

In 1884 H. Stockdale, who had had considerable experience in the southern
colonies, and was an old bushman, made an excursion from Cambridge Gulf
to the south through the Kimberley district. Stockdale found well-grassed
country with numerous permanently-watered creeks. When he came to the
creek which he named Buchanan Creek, he formed a depot. On his return
from an expedition to the south with three men, he found that during his
absence the men left in charge of it had been hunting kangaroos with the
horses instead of allowing them to rest. There were other irregularities
as well, and Stockdale found his resources too much reduced, both in
horseflesh and rations, to continue the exploration. They started for the
telegraph line, but on the way the two men who had been misbehaving
requested to be left behind. As they persisted in their wish, there was
nothing left but to accede to it. The two men, with as much rations as
could be spared, arms, and powder and shot, were then left at their own
request on a permanent creek in a country where game could be obtained.
Stockdale himself had to undergo some hardship before reaching the
Overland Line. Although search was made for the two men, they were never
afterwards found.

One little area of country, of no great importance but still untrodden by
man yet remained in Central Australia, as a lure to excite the white
man's curiosity. This unvisited spot was situated north of latitude 26,
and bounded on the west by the Finke River, on the north by the Plenty
and Marshall Rivers and part of the MacDonnell Ranges, and on the west by
the Hay River and the Queensland border. An expedition to exploit it was
equipped by Ronald MacPherson, and assisted by the South Australian
Government with the loan of camels. The leader was Captain V. Barclay, an
old South Australian surveyor, whose name has already been mentioned in
these pages.

Barclay had been born in Lancashire, at Bury, on the 6th of January,
1845. He had entered the Royal Navy in 1860, and had been severely
wounded on board H.M.S. Illustrious by a gun breaking loose when at
target practice. He had emigrated to Tasmania in the seventies, and in
1877 had been appointed by the South Australian Government to explore the
country lying between the line and the Queensland border, a notice of
which occurs in the preceding pages.

The party, lightly equipped to be more effective, was absent from
Oodnadatta from July 24th until December 5th 1904, and in that time
accomplished much useful work in the face of great difficulties. On
account of the great heat, the expedition had to resort to travelling by
night and resting by day. The country was principally high sandy ridges,
some so steep that it was not easy to find crossing-places. They had to
sacrifice a lot of valuable stores, personal effects, and a valuable
collection of native curios, all chiefly on account of the shortness of
water.

By this date the whole of the central portion of Australia was known, and
the greater part of it mapped; while all the permanently-watered country
had been rapidly utilised by the pastoralists.


PART 3. THE WEST.

[Illustration. John Septimus Roe, First Surveyor-General of West
Australia.]



CHAPTER 17. ROE, GREY, AND GREGORY.


17.1. ROE AND THE PIONEERS.

Whilst Sturt and kindred bold spirits had been painfully but surely
piecing together the geographical puzzle of the south-east corner of the
Australian continent, a similar struggle between man and Nature had
commenced in the south-west. Here, Nature kept close her secrets with no
less pertinacity than in the east; but, though the struggle was just as
arduous, the environment was very different. Instead of rearing an
unscalable barrier of gloomy mountains, Nature here showed a level front
of sullen hostility. Nor did she lure the first explorers inland with a
smiling face of welcome once the outworks had been forced, as she had
drawn Evans when he reached the head-waters of the Macquarie and Lachlan.
Beyond the sources of the western coastal streams, she fought silently
for every eastward mile of vantage ground, spreading before the
adventurous intruder the salt lake and the arid desert.

As far back as 1791, George Vancouver, a whilom middy of Cook's,
discovered and named King George's Sound, when in command of H.M.S.
Discovery. He formally took possession of the adjacent country, and
remained there some days, making a careful survey of both the inner and
outer harbours.

On the 9th of December, 1826, Sir Ralph Darling, then Governor of New
South Wales, sent Major Lockyer, of the 57th, with a detachment of the
39th, a regiment intimately associated with the early settlement of
Australia, to form a settlement at King George's Sound, where they landed
on the 25th of December of the same year. This settlement was established
in order to forestall the French, who, according to rumour, intended to
occupy the harbour and adjacent lands.

On the 17th of January, 1827, Captain James Stirling, of H.M.S. Success,
left Sydney, intending to survey those portions of the west coast
unvisited by Lieutenant King, and also to investigate the nature of the
country in the neighbourhood of the Swan River with a view to its
suitability for settlement. Stirling was accompanied by Charles Fraser,
who had considerable experience as adviser upon Australian sites for
settlement. Both Stirling and Fraser reported favourably on the Swan
River; and the latter waxing enthusiastic on its eligibility, it was
decided to found a new colony there.

In 1829, Captain Fremantle of H.M.S. Challenger hoisted the British flag
at the mouth of the Swan River, and thenceforth the whole of the
Australian continent was under British sway. Captain, now
Lieutenant-Governor, Stirling arrived a month later in the transport
Parmelia, and the free colony of Western Australia was launched on its
varied career.

The names first mentioned in the annals of land exploration in Western
Australia are those of Alexander Collie and Lieutenant William Preston,
who together explored the country on the coast between Cockburn Sound and
Geographe Bay. This was in November, 1829, and in the following month Dr.
J.B. Wilson, who came to the Sound with Captain Barker on the abandonment
of Raffles Bay, made an excursion from the Sound and discovered and named
the Denmark River.

In a passage in a letter written by R.M. Davis, of the medical staff, to
Charles Fraser, the botanist, there is a detailed reference to this
trip:--

"Dr. Wilson, who came here with Captain Barker, started in a direction to
Swan Port (Swan River) with a party of men, and in eleven days went over
at least two hundred miles of ground. He says, without fear of
contradiction in future, that there is far greater proportion of good
land in this direction than in any other part of Australia that he had
been in, and also wood of large growth, with innumerable rivers. He
ascended a very high mountain, which he called Mount Lindsay, in honour
of the 39th regiment."

On the 22nd of March, 1830, we first hear of the exploring feats of
Lieutenant Roe, R.N., the Surveyor-General of the new colony. Captain
John Septimus Roe was born in 1797, and entered the navy. He accompanied
Captain P. King to explore the north and north-west coasts of Australia,
in 1818, and was a member of King's expedition in 1821. He was the first
Surveyor-General of Western Australia, and held that position for
forty-two years. He is commonly styled the father of western exploration.
He died at Perth on May 28th, 1878. Mrs. Roe, who accompanied her husband
to Western Australia in 1829, pre-deceased him in 1870.

On the date mentioned in 1830, Roe was in the field exploring in the
vicinity of Cape Naturaliste. Afterwards he was active in the country
between the head-waters of the Kalgan and Hay Rivers. In 1836 he first
tried serious conclusions with the inland country of Western Australia,
when he headed an expedition to explore the tableland that lies to the
north and east of Perth. The country was dreary and depressing, and,
judging from its configuration and natural properties, he was unable to
recommend it as a site for settlement or to depict it as the entrance to
more pleasant lands beyond. He reached Lake Brown, near the western
boundary of the present Yilgarn goldfield; but the only noteworthy
features that he perceived were the salt lakes that are now so well-known
throughout Western Australia. In 1839, Roe distinguished himself by
rescuing Grey's dismembered party. On the 14th of September, 1848, he
started to make an attempt at further discovery to the eastward. He had
with him six men, twelve horses, and three months' provisions. Upon
leaving the outer settlements, they encountered the same depressing
country as before. Having crossed it, they were turned from their course
by scrub of exceeding density, which in turn was succeeded by sandy
desert plains. Foiled for the time being they made for the south coast,
where they recruited their strength at one of the outlying settlements.

On the 18th they started again, and followed up the course of the
Pallinup River. They ascended a branch coming from the north-east, and
for a time revelled in the spectacle of well-grassed and promising
valleys; but they soon again came amongst the scrub and sand plains of
the inland desert. Sighting a granite range to the eastward, they made
towards it, but the outlook from its summit brought nothing but exceeding
disappointment. Fortunately the weather was showery, and the lack of
water did not induce such keen anxiety as the total absence of grass.
Still pushing to the eastward, they found their difficulties increase at
every step. To the perils of travel through dense thickets and over
barren, scorching plains, there was now added the risk of death from
thirst. It was not until after days of extreme privation that they
reached some elevated peaks, where they obtained a little grass and
water.

Their course lay now to the south-east, towards the range sighted by
Eyre, and named the Russell Range, and there commenced a desperate
struggle with the intervening desert.

So weak were the horses and so compact the belts of scrub, that in three
days they had traversed only fifty miles. After being four days and three
nights without water for the horses, they reached a rugged hill which
they named Mount Riley, where they were relieved by a scant supply.
Thence it was but fifty miles to the Russell Range, but the journey
involved a repetition of the worst sufferings they had endured. The scrub
disputed their passage the whole route, being often so dense as to defy
the use of the axe, and many long detours had to be made before they
reached their goal.

Every hope they had entertained of a change for the better was shattered
by an inspection of the country to which they had so laboriously
penetrated. The range, destined to be associated with so many subsequent
important explorations, was a mass of naked rocks, and from the summit
they could see nothing but the interminable scrub thickets, and in the
distance the thin blue line of ocean. Fortunately they found a little
grass and water, which saved the lives of their animals. They had
discovered a coal seam at the mouth of the Murchison River, and now, on
their return journey, they found another at the Fitzgerald River. This
was Roe's longest and most important expedition, and it placed him in the
front rank of Australian explorers.

Amongst the very early explorers who did as good work as the scanty
opportunities permitted, was Ensign R. Dale, of the 63rd Regiment, who
pushed east of the Darling Range. Bannister, Moore, and Bunbury are other
noteworthy names amongst those of the early discoverers.

17.2. SIR GEORGE GREY.

[Illustration. Sir George Grey.]

In 1837 an expedition in charge of Captain George Grey and Lieutenant
Lushington was sent out from England to the Cape of Good Hope. It was
under instructions from Lord Glenelg, and was to procure a small vessel
at the Cape to convey the party and their stores to the most convenient
point in the vicinity of the Prince Regent's River on the coast. Once
landed there, the party was to take such a course as would lead them in
the direction of the great opening behind Dampier's Land, where they were
to make every endeavour to cross to the Swan River.

The schooner Lynher was chartered at the Cape, and on the 3rd of
December, 1837, the party was landed at Hanover Bay, with large
quantities of livestock, stores, seeds, and plants. Whilst the schooner
proceeded to Timor for ponies, Grey employed the time in forming a
garden, building sheds for the stores, and in exploring the country in
the neighbourhood of Hanover Bay. On the 9th of December, he hoisted the
British flag and went through the ceremony of taking possession. On the
17th of January the Lynher returned, and nearly a month later Grey and
his party, which now numbered twelve, started from the coast with
twenty-six half-broken Timor ponies as baggage-carriers, and some sheep
and goats.

The rainy season had now set in, and many of the stock succumbed almost
at the outset, whilst their route proved a veritable tangle of steep
spurs and deep ravines. On the 11th of February they came into collision
with the natives, and Grey was severely wounded in the hip with a spear.
When he had recovered sufficiently to be lifted on to one of the ponies,
a fresh start was made, and on the 2nd of March his perseverance was
rewarded by the discovery of a river which he named the Glenelg. He
followed the course of this river upwards, and reported the country as
good, being well-grassed and watered. Sometimes his route lay along the
river's bank; at other times by keeping to the foot of a sandstone ridge
he was enabled to avoid detours around many wearisome bends.

[Illustration. Rock Painting, North-Western Australia.]

The party continued along the Glenelg for many days, until indeed they
were checked by a large tributary coming from the north. As both the
river and the tributary were here much swollen, they had to fall back on
the range. It was among the recesses of this range that Grey discovered
some curious cave paintings of the blacks, in which the aboriginal
figures were represented as clothed.

[*Footnote.] A subsequent photograph of these paintings, by Brockman, is
reproduced in Chapter 20.

Unable to find a pass through the mountains, and enfeebled by his wound,
Grey determined to retrace his steps. As a last resort he sent Lushington
some distance ahead, but there was no noticeable change to report in the
aspect of the country. Hanover Bay was reached on the 15th of April. The
Lynher was waiting there at anchor, and H.M.S. Beagle was lying in Port
George the Fourth, awaiting the return of Captain Stokes, who was away
exploring the coast. The party having embarked, the Lynher sailed for the
Isle of France, where they safely arrived. Thus ended Captain Grey's
first expedition, which is interesting chiefly as a proof of the heroic
qualities of its members; for the Glenelg River has never invited
settlement, and has yet to prove that it possesses any considerable
economic value.

During January, 1839, Grey explored the country between the Williams and
the Leschenhault, while searching for a settler who had been lost in the
bush.

On the 17th of February in the same year, Grey, who had been back
endeavouring to persuade Sir James Stirling to assist him in his
explorations, was enabled to start on another exploring enterprise. The
object of this, his second important expedition, was to examine the
undiscovered parts of Shark's Bay, and to make excursions as far inland
as circumstances permitted. The party comprised four of the members of
his first expedition, five other men, and a Western Australian
aboriginal, and they left Fremantle in an American whaler, taking three
whale-boats with them. They were duly landed at Bernier Island, where
their troubles commenced at once. The whaler sailed away, taking with her
by mistake the whole of their supply of tobacco. There was no water on
the island, and, in their first attempt to start, one of the boats was
smashed and nearly half a ton of stores lost. The next day they succeeded
in making Dorre Island, but that night both the remaining boats were
driven ashore by a violent storm. Two or three days were spent in making
good the damage, when they succeeded in making the mainland, and obtained
a supply of fresh water. They had landed at or near the mouth of a stream
which afterwards proved to be the second longest river in Western
Australia. Grey named it the Gascoyne, and found that it was then dry
beyond the limit of tidal influence. They then pulled up the coast, but
one night, when effecting a landing, both boats were swamped, and their
previously-damaged provisions suffered another soaking. This accident
kept them prisoners for a week till the wind and surf had abated. Tired,
hungry, and ill, they were here harassed by frequent threats and one
actual attack by the blacks. A slight break in the weather tempted them
forth once more, and, having succeeded in righting the boats, they made
for the mouth of the Gascoyne, where they re-filled their water-beakers.
On March 20th they made a desperate effort in the teeth of foul weather
to fetch their depot on Bernier Island. We may picture their dismay when
they found that during their absence a hurricane had swept the island,
and scattered their cherished stores to the four winds.

Their position was now as desperate as could be imagined: the southerly
winds had set in, and they had to coast along a surf-beaten shore against
a head wind. Their food was scanty, and they were weak with the constant
toils they had undergone. There was nothing for it, however, but to put
to sea again, and they succeeded in reaching Gantheaume Bay on the 31st
of March. Fate had not yet spent all her wrath on them, and in attempting
a landing, Grey's boat was dashed to destruction upon a rock, and the
other received such a buffeting as to place it beyond repair. The only
hope of safety lay in an overland march to Perth, three hundred miles
away, upon their twenty pounds of damaged flour and one pound of salt
pork per man; and yet, so wearied were they with the unceasing battle
against wind and sea, that they even welcomed this hazardous prospect as
a change for the better.

They had not proceeded far before differences of opinion arose. Grey
naturally wished the men to cover the ground as quickly as possible
whilst their strength lasted, whilst they favoured slow marches, relieved
by frequent rests. Grey, who recognised that in their weakened condition
they could not replenish their scanty food supplies from the native game,
held firmly to his opinion, and made strenuous efforts to quicken their
progress; but the comparative safety of the shore had lulled his
followers into a feeling of false security; and after goading them along
for a hundred miles, bearing the chief burden of the march and sharing
much of his scanty food with the black boy, Grey left them to push
onwards, and if possible send them assistance. He took two or three
picked men with him, and after terrible sufferings and privations,
reached Perth, whence a rescue party was immediately despatched. This
party found only one man, Charles Wood, who by more closely following
Grey's instructions, had made better progress than the others. The
remaining five could not be found, and at the end of a fortnight the
rescuers were forced to return on account of the lack of provisions. Roe
immediately left with another party, and, after experiencing trouble in
tracking the erratic wanderings of the unfortunates, came upon most of
them hopelessly regarding a face of rock that stopped their march along
the beach, unable to muster sufficient strength to climb it. They had
then been three days without water, having nothing in their canteens but
a loathsome substitute.

One of them, Smith, a lad of eighteen who had accompanied the expedition
as a volunteer, had died two days before the rescue; his body was
recovered and buried in the wilderness. Walker, the surgeon and second in
charge, was still absent; but he had voluntarily left the main body and
had pushed on for assistance towards Fremantle, which he safely reached.

During these unfortunate expeditions, Grey had shown a generous spirit of
self-sacrifice combined with high courage and a fine enthusiasm for
geographical discovery. But his lack of experience and his ignorance of
the local seasonal conditions counterbalanced these, and explained his
failures. Afterwards he became Acting Government Resident at Albany, on
King George's Sound, and he was at a critical period Governor of South
Australia. But Australia proper saw little of him in his after prime, and
his fame was built up elsewhere, in New Zealand and at the Cape of Good
Hope.

Grey's reports left doubt as to the precise value of the country he
traversed under such trying circumstances, but he is justly credited with
the discovery of many rivers on the west coast -- the Grey, the Buller,
the Chapman, the Greenough, the Arrowsmith, the Hutt, the Bowyer, and
those important streams, the Murchison and the Gascoyne.

17.3. AUGUSTUS C. GREGORY.

[Illustration. Augustus C. Gregory, 1880. Photo, Freeman, Sydney.]

In 1846 we come upon a name destined to become linked with the history of
exploration in most parts of Australia. There were three notable brothers
of the name of Gregory; but as their expeditions, at least those of
Augustus and Frank, were conducted independently, with the exception of
the first, we shall deal with them separately. H.C. Gregory, it is true,
associated his work mostly with that of his brother, A.C. Gregory,
generally in a subordinate position, but Frank Gregory won nearly equal
fame with his brother Augustus as an independent explorer.

A.C. Gregory was the son of Lieutenant J. Gregory of the 78th
Highlanders. He was born at Farnsfield, Nottinghamshire, in 1819, and
came to Western Australia with his parents in 1829 in the Lotus, 500
tons, Captain Summerson, the second passenger ship that sailed for
Western Australia. Lieutenant Gregory had five sons in all: William,
Augustus, Francis, Henry, and James. The Lotus reached Fremantle about
the 10th of October, 1829. Captain Gregory had been obliged to retire
from active service, being incapacitated by serious wounds received at El
Hamed, in Egypt, and held a large grant of land from the Imperial
Government in lieu of pension. On this grant, situated not far from
Perth, he established a farm, and on that farm Augustus and his brothers
received the balance of their education and underwent their course of
bush training. Augustus, after his last expedition, was appointed in 1859
Surveyor-General of Queensland, in which colony he settled down later,
after retiring from active official life. He had a seat in the
Legislative Council, and was a prominent freemason. He was created C.M.G.
in 1874, and K.C.M.G. in 1903, and had several honours conferred upon him
by the Royal Geographical Society. He died in Brisbane, in 1905.

If we except a short excursion down the Blackwood and Kojonup Rivers, his
expedition of 1846, in which he was accompanied both by F.T. and H.C.
Gregory, was the first important enterprise undertaken by him. It was in
August that his party left Captain Scully's station at Bolgart's Springs,
about seventy miles from Perth.

On leaving the settled districts they at once found themselves in the
barren country that was damming back the eastward flow of settlement.
Having traversed it, they reached a range of granite hills, and turning
more to the northward, they kept along these for the sake of the
rain-water to be found in the rock holes. On striking again to the east,
they encountered an extensive salt lake, and in attempting to cross an
arm of this marsh, their horses were bogged, and extricated only after
great labour. The lake was afterwards proved to be of great size, and to
hem them in completely to the eastward, whilst, owing to its
crescent-like formation, for five days it baffled all their attempts to
proceed northwards.

Finally abandoning the lake, which they called Lake Moore, they turned to
the westward to examine some of the streams crossed by Grey during his
return from Shark's Bay. On the head of one of these rivers, the Irwin,
they found a seam of coal.

"Having pitched our tent and tethered our horses, we commenced to collect
specimens of the various strata, and succeeded in cutting out five or six
hundredweight of coal with the tomahawk, and in a short time had the
satisfaction of seeing the first fire of West Australian coal burning
cheerfully in front of the camp, this being the first discovery of coal
in Western Australia."

The party then returned by way of the Moore River to Bolgart Springs,
which they reached on the 22nd of September.

The discovery of coal deposits and of country available for settlement
was seen to be of great importance by the Government, and Lieutenant
Helpman, A.C. Gregory, his brother Henry, and Messrs. Irby and Meekleham,
in the colonial schooner Champion, were despatched to procure a quantity
of coal for testing. They were also instructed to make a further
inspection of the pastoral capabilities of the district, of which there
had been so many conflicting opinions. A three days' examination of the
country convinced them that it was suitable for settlement.

In 1846 Gregory took charge of an expedition to the north of Perth,
organised by the settlers of the colony, and entitled The Settlers'
Expedition; its object being to proceed to the Gascoyne River, examining
the intervening country as to its suitability for pastoral purposes.

Gregory was accompanied by one of his brothers, Messrs. Burges, Walcott,
and Bedart, and private King of the 96th Regiment, of whose services he
speaks very highly. This expedition excited great hopes amongst the
settlers, who found most of the horses and provisions. The party left
Lefroy's station of Welbing on the 9th of September, with ten pack, and
two riding-horses, but did not succeed in penetrating any distance beyond
the Murchison, being turned back at all points, after repeated efforts,
by the belt of impervious scrub between the Murchison and Gascoyne. They
therefore returned without seeing the latter river, after having attained
a distance of 350 miles from Perth; but they succeeded in finding a
considerable extent of available country, both pastoral and agricultural,
and in discovering a vein of galena on the Murchison. They re-entered
Perth on the 17th of November.

The following month, Gregory, Bland, and three soldiers of the 96th
accompanied Governor Fitzgerald by sea to Champion Bay to examine the new
mineral discoveries. The galena lode was found to be more important than
had been at first supposed. On their return to the schooner, an affray
occurred with the natives, in which the Governor was wounded.

"As the country was covered with dense wattle thickets, the natives took
advantage of the ground, and having completely surrounded the party,
commenced first to threaten to throw their spears, then to throw stones,
and finally one man caught hold of Mr. Bland by the arm, threatening to
strike him with a dowak; another native threw a spear at myself, though
without effect; but before I could fire at him, the Governor, perceiving
that unless some severe example was made, the whole party would be cut
off, fired at one of the most forward of our assailants and killed him;
two other shots were fired by the soldiers, but the thickness of the
bushes prevented our seeing with what effect. A shower of spears, stones,
kylies and dowaks followed, and although we moved to a more open spot,
the natives were only kept off by firing at any that exposed themselves.
At this moment a spear struck the Governor in the leg, just above the
knee, with such force as to cause it to protrude two feet on the other
side, which was so far fortunate as to enable me to break off the barb
and withdraw the shaft. The Governor, notwithstanding his wound,
continued to direct the party, and although the natives made many
attempts to approach close enough to reach us with their spears, we were
able by keeping on the most open ground and checking them by an
occasional shot, to avoid their attacks when crossing the gullies."

The natives followed them for seven miles, but finally desisted, and the
whites reached the beach and boarded the Champion without further mishap.

In 1856 Gregory made his most celebrated journey in the north of central
Australia. An account of this journey might have been included in Part 2,
but as the name of Gregory is so intimately connected with Western
Australia, this section is perhaps the most appropriate place in which to
recount its incidents. [But its lengthy place in which to recount its
incidents (sic)]. But its numerous details demand another chapter.



CHAPTER 18. A.C. AND F.T. GREGORY.


18.1. A.C. GREGORY ON STURT'S CREEK AND THE BARCOO.

The Imperial Government having long considered the feasibility of further
exploration of the interior of Australia voted 5000 pounds for the
purpose, and offered the command of the expedition to A.C. Gregory. As
the inexplicable disappearance of Leichhardt was then exciting much
interest in Australia, search for the lost expedition was to form one of
its chief duties.

On the 12th of August, 1855, Gregory's party left Moreton Bay in the
barque Monarch, attended by the schooner Tom Tough. There were eighteen
men in all. H.C. Gregory was second in command, Ferdinand von Mueller was
botanist, J.S. Wilson geologist, J.R. Elsey surgeon and naturalist, and
J. Baines artist and storekeeper. They had on board fifty horses, two
hundred sheep, and provisions and stores calculated to last them eighteen
months on full rations.

They did not reach Point Pearce, at the mouth of the Victoria River,
until the 24th of September. There they separated, the schooner taking
the stores up the river, and the Monarch proceeding on her voyage to
Singapore. The horses had been landed at Point Pearce, whence Gregory,
his brother, and seven men took them on overland by easy stages. One
night the horses were attacked by crocodiles, and three of them were
severely wounded. They followed up the course of the Fitzmaurice River
and then passed over rough country, not reaching the Victoria until the
17th. On the 20th they rejoined the members who had gone round by the
schooner, and learned that she was aground in the river. A large part of
their stores was spoiled; and the number of the sheep had also been
reduced to forty, in consequence of their being foolishly kept penned up
on board. These losses and accidents considerably weakened Gregory's
resources, and it was not until the 24th of November that any excursion
on horseback was undertaken. An attempt had previously been made to
ascend the river in the portable boat with which the expedition had been
supplied, but it was not successful, as the boat could not navigate the
rocky bars in safety.

Gregory left camp accompanied by his brother, Dr. von Mueller, and
Wilson, taking seven horses and twenty days' rations, his object being to
examine the country through which the exploring party would have to
travel on their route to the interior. On this preliminary trip, he
penetrated as far as latitude 16 1/2 south, whence, finding the
tributaries flowing from fine open plains and level forest country, all
well-grassed, he returned to the main camp.

On the 4th of January, 1856, Gregory started with a much larger party on
an energetic dash into the interior. He had with him six men besides his
brother, Dr. von Mueller and Baines the artist, and thirty-six horses. He
retraced his steps along his preliminary route, and on the 30th of
January, thinking it wise judging from the rapid evaporation of the
waterholes, to make his means of retreat secure, he formed a temporary
camp, leaving there four men and all the horses but eleven to await his
return, whilst he, his brother, Dr. Mueller, and a man named Dean, rode
ahead to challenge the desert to the south. On the 9th of February,
having run the Victoria out, he crossed an almost level watershed, and
found himself on the confines of the desert. From a slight rise he looked
southwards:--

"The horizon was unbroken; all appeared one slightly undulating plain,
with just sufficient triodia and bushes growing on it to hide the red
sand when viewed at a distance."

Gregory reviewed the problem from a logical standpoint. He decided to
follow the northern limit of the desert to the westward, until he should
find a southern-flowing watercourse which would afford him the
opportunity to make a dash beyond its confines.

On the 15th of February he came to a small flat which gradually developed
into a channel and ultimately became a creek, running first west, and
then south-west. This gave him his desired opening, and he pursued the
course of the creek through good open country, finding the water
plentiful, though shallow. On February 20th, however, the channel of the
creek was lost in an immense grassy plain. The country to the south being
sandy and unpromising, Gregory kept westwards, and succeeded in again
picking up the channel, now finding the water in it to be slightly
brackish. That day he crossed the boundary of Western Australia. The
creek now gave promise of continuity, the water-holes taking on a more
permanent appearance. It was now pursuing a general south-west course,
and Gregory, though still rightly anticipating that it would eventually
be lost in the dry interior, determined to follow it as far south as
should be compatible with safety. He named the creek Sturt's Creek, after
the gallant explorer of that name, who was naturally then often in his
mind. The creek maintained its southern course, until, on the 8th of
March, it ran out into a mud plain and a salt lake.

"Thus, after having followed Sturt's Creek for nearly 300 miles, we have
been disappointed in our hope that it would lead to some important outlet
to the waters of the Australian interior; it has, however, enabled us to
penetrate far into the level tract of country which may be termed the
Great Australian Desert."

Gregory, convinced that no useful results could arise from any attempt to
penetrate the inhospitable region to the south, determined to return
before the rapidly-evaporating water on which they were dependent should
vanish and cut off all retreat. He therefore retraced his steps up
Sturt's Creek, and on the 28th of March arrived at his temporary depot,
where he found the men all well and the horses much improved in
condition.

On the 2nd of April, A.C. Gregory, taking his brother Henry, Baines, and
one man, started on an excursion to examine the eastern tributaries of
the Victoria, and was absent a little over a fortnight. On their return,
the whole of the members started for the landing-place on the Victoria,
which they reached on the 9th of May. After all arrangements and
preparations had been completed, Gregory, with most of the party, started
on the return journey overland to Moreton Bay. The Tom Tough, now caulked
and repaired, was to make her way to the Albert River in the Gulf of
Carpentaria, where they would again probably meet.

Traversing the tributaries of the Victoria on his homeward way, Gregory
met with no remarkable incident until his arrival on the Elsey, a
tributary of the Roper River, which he named after the surgeon of the
expedition. It was here that he came upon the last authentic trace of
Leichhardt. He describes his discovery as follows:--

"There was also the remains of a hut and the ashes of a large fire,
indicating that there had been a party camped there for several weeks;
several trees from six to eight inches in diameter had been cut down with
iron axes in fair condition, and the hut built by cutting notches in
standing trees and resting a large pole therein for a ridge; this hut had
been burnt apparently by the subsequent bush fires, and only some pieces
of the thickest timber remained unconsumed. Search was made for marked
trees, but none found, nor were there any fragments of leather, iron, or
other equipment of an exploring party, or of any bones of animals other
than those common to Australia. Had an exploring party been destroyed
here, there would most likely have been some indications, and it may
therefore be inferred that the party proceeded on its journey. It could
not have been a camp of Leichhardt's in 1845, as it is 100 miles south of
his route to Port Essington; and it was only six or seven years old,
judging by the growth of the trees; having subsequently seen some of
Leichhardt's camps on the Burdekin, Mackenzie and Barcoo Rivers, a great
similarity was observed in regard to the manner of building the hut and
its relative position with regard to the fire and water supply, and the
position in regard to the great features of the country was exactly where
a party going westward would first receive a check from the waterless
tableland between the Roper and Victoria Rivers, and would probably camp
and reconnoitre ahead before attempting to cross to the north-west
coast."

From the Roper the party travelled around the shore of the Gulf, keeping
rather more inland than Leichhardt had done. On reaching the Albert they
found that the Tom Tough had not yet arrived at the rendezvous; and
Gregory, leaving a marked tree with a message indicating the situation of
some instructions he had buried, pushed onwards.

His route from the Albert lay along much the same line of country as that
followed by Leichhardt during his journey to Port Essington. He did not,
however, make such a wide sweep to the north, up to the Mitchell, but
struck away from Carpentaria at the Gilbert River. He corrected the error
Leichhardt had fallen into over the situation of the Albert, and re-named
the river that he had mistaken the Leichhardt. The exploring party
reached the settled districts at Hay's station, Rannes, south of the
Fitzroy; and thence reached Brisbane on the 16th of December, 1856.

To advance the search after Leichhardt, the interest in whose fate had
been stimulated by the discovery made by Gregory, a public meeting was
held in September, 1857, at which resolutions were passed requesting
monetary assistance from the Government, and offering the leadership of a
new expedition to A.C. Gregory. The appeal was successful, and
accordingly in March, 1858, Gregory left Euroomba station on the Dawson
with a party of nine in all, one of his brothers going as second. The
expedition was equipped for light travelling, taking as means of carriage
pack-horses only, of which there were thirty-one, as well as nine
saddle-horses.

Gregory crossed the Nive on to the Barcoo, which he proceeded to run
down, finding the country in a very different condition from that in
which it bloomed when Mitchell rode rejoicingly along what he thought was
a Gulf river. A sharp look out was of course kept for any trace of the
missing party, and on the 21st of April they came across another marked
tree.

"We discovered a Moreton Bay ash (Eucalyptus sp.), about two feet in
diameter marked with the letter L on the east side, cut through the bark
about four feet from the ground, and near it the stumps of some small
trees that had been cut with a sharp axe, also a deep notch cut in the
side of a sloping tree, apparently to support the ridge-pole of a tent,
or some similar purpose; all indicating that a camp had been established
here by Leichhardt's party...No other indications having been found, we
continued the search down the river, examining every likely spot for
marked trees, but without success."

Approaching the Thomson River, they found the country suffering from
drought although the river was running in consequence of some late rains.
As winter was now approaching, there was however no spring in the
vegetation, and their horses were suffering great hardship. On the 15th
of May they found themselves beyond the rainfall, and realised that lack
of water was likely to be added to an absence of grass.

"We, however, succeeded in reaching latitude 23 degrees 47 minutes, when
the absence of water and grass -- the rain not having extended so far
north, and the channels of the river separating into small gullies and
spreading on to the wide plains -- precluded our progressing further to
the north or west; and the only chance of saving our horses was to return
south as quickly as possible. This was a most severe disappointment, as
we had just reached that part of the country through which Leichhardt
most probably travelled if the season was sufficiently wet to render it
practicable. Thus compelled to abandon the principal object of the
expedition, only two courses remained open -- either to return to the
head of the Victoria (Barcoo) River and attempt a northern course by the
valley of the Belyando, or to follow down the river and ascertain whether
it flowed into Cooper's Creek or the Darling."

The latter alternative was chosen, and they proceeded to retrace their
steps down the Thomson, and on reaching the junction of the Barcoo they
continued south and west. In fact, following Kennedy's route, they soon
found themselves involved in the same difficulties that had beset that
explorer. The river -- now Cooper's Creek -- broke up into countless
channels running through barren, fissured plains. Toiling on through
these, varied by an interlude of sandhills, Gregory at last reached a
better-grassed land, where his famished horses regained a little
strength. He reached Sturt's furthest point, and continued on to the
point where Strzelecki's Creek carried off some of the surplus flood
waters, and finally lost the many channels amongst the sandhills and
flooded plains. He again struck Strzelecki's Creek and traced it as he
then thought, into Lake Torrens, but in reality into Lake Blanche, for
the salt lake region had not then been properly delimited. He reached
Baker's recently-formed station, eight miles beyond Mount Hopeless, and
thence he went on to Adelaide.

18.2. FRANK T. GREGORY.

[Illustration. Frank T. Gregory.]

It was in Western Australia, in March, 1857, that Frank T. Gregory
commenced his career as an independent explorer by taking advantage of a
sudden heavy downpour of rain on the upper reaches of the Murchison
River, which flooded the dry course of the lower portion where he was
then engaged on survey work. Gregory at once seized the opportunity thus
afforded of examining the upper reaches of this river, from which former
explorers had been driven back by the aridity of the country. Accompanied
by his assistant, S. Trigg, he proceeded up the river finding, thanks to
the wet season that had preceded him, luxuriant grass and ample supplies
of water. In consequence, he had a more pleasing account of the country
to bring back than the report based on the thirsty experiences of Austin.
So easy did he find the country, that only scarcity of provisions
prevented him from pushing on to the long-sought-for Gascoyne River. As
it was, he returned after an absence of thirteen days, having completed
what the Perth Gazette of that time justly described as "one of the most
unassuming expeditions, yet important in its results."

It was so far satisfactory, and roused such fresh hopes in the minds of
the settlers, that they once more formed bright hopes of what the River
Gascoyne might have in store for the successful explorer. For a long time
now they had become resigned to the conclusion that their northern
pathway was barred by a dry, scrubby country; but they at once took
advantage of the promising practical passage along which Frank Gregory
had led the way. Another expedition was organised to penetrate to the
Gascoyne, and the leadership being naturally offered to Frank Gregory,
was accepted by him.

On the 16th of April, 1858, he left the Geraldine mine with a
lightly-equipped party of six, including J.B. Roe, son of the
Surveyor-General. They had with them six pack and six riding-horses, and
rations for 60 days.

They proceeded up the Murchison, and on the 25th of the same month they
reached a tributary called the Impey, which had been the highest point
reached by Gregory the preceding year. This time, however, the party did
not find such ample pasture as he had described. Still following the
river up until the 30th April, on that day they struck off on a
nor-north-east course, the course of the Murchison tending too much in an
easterly direction to lead them speedily on to the Gascoyne. On the 3rd
they reached a gentle stony ascent, which proved to be the watershed
between the two rivers. Descending the <DW72> to the northward, they soon
came to the head of a watercourse flowing northwards. They followed the
new creek, and on the 6th of May came to a river joining it from the
eastward, which at last proved to be the Gascoyne.

Gregory kept down the south bank of the Gascoyne, and on the 12th of May
passed a large tributary coming from the north, which he named the Lyons.
On the 17th they ascended a sandy ridge about sixty feet in height, and
had a view of Shark's Bay.

He returned along the north bank of the river, and having reached the
Lyons, followed that river up. On the 3rd of June he ascended the highest
mountain yet discovered in Western Australia, which he named Mount
Augustus, after his brother. Gregory gives the elevation at 3,480 feet,
but Mount Bruce in the Hammersley Range, to the north of it, has since
been found to be higher.* From the summit, however, he had an extensive
view, and was enabled to sketch in the courses of the various rivers for
over twenty miles.

*[Footnote.] 3,800 feet.

As they had now been out 51 days, and their supply of provisions was
approaching the end, the party turned back at Mount Augustus, and struck
southwards. On the 8th the Gascoyne was re-crossed at a place where its
course lay through flats and ana-branches. On the 10th of June they again
came to the Murchison, and followed it down to the Geraldine mine, and
finally reached Perth on the 10th of July. This expedition, so fruitful
in its results to the pastoral welfare of the colony, cost the settlers
only their contributions in horses and rations, and a cash expenditure of
forty pounds.

The discovery of so much fresh available country on the Gascoyne River,
with the prospect of a new base for exploration in the tropical regions
beyond, attracted the attention of English capitalists. The American
civil war had so depressed the cotton trade that those interested in
cotton manufacture were seeking for fresh fields in which to establish
the growth of the plant. Frank Gregory was then in London, and advantage
was taken of his presence to urge upon the Home Government and the Royal
Geographical Society the desirability of fitting out an expedition to
proceed direct to the north-west coast of Australia, accompanied by a
large body of Asiatic labourers, and all the necessary appliances for the
establishment of a colony.

Fortunately this rash and ill-considered scheme was greatly modified
under wise advice. Roe, the Surveyor-General of Western Australia, and
other gentlemen practically acquainted with the subject, suggested that
the country should be explored before the idea of any actual settlement
should be entertained. Acting on this advice, the Imperial Government
gave a grant of 2,000 pounds, to be supplemented by an equal subsidy by
the Colonial Treasury.

Gregory therefore obtained a suitable outfit in London for the party, and
left for Perth to complete the necessary details. The usual official
delays occurred, and the expedition did not leave Fremantle, in the
barque Dolphin, until 23rd April, 1861, nearly two months later than had
been arranged. As the rainy season in northern Australia terminates in
March, this delay was unfortunate.

Nickol Bay on the north-west coast was the destination, and was safely
reached. The work of disembarkation being completed, the exploring party
started on the 25th of May, 1861.

Gregory first pursued a western course, as he wished to cut any
considerable river discharging into the sea, and coming from the
interior.

[Illustration. Maitland Brown.]

On the 29th of May they struck the river which was subsequently named the
Fortescue. As this river seemed likely to answer their expectations of a
passage through the broken range that hemmed them in to the south, they
followed it up. A narrow precipitous gorge forced them to leave the
river, and, after surmounting a table-land, they steered a course due
south to a high range, which, however, they found too rough to surmount.
Making back on to a north-east course, they again struck the Fortescue,
above the narrow glen which had stopped them. They followed it up once
more through good country, occasionally hampered by its course lying
between rugged hills; but they finally crossed the range, partly by the
aid of the river-bed, and partly through a gap. On the 18th June, they
succeeded in completely surmounting the range, and found that to the
south the decline was more gradual. The range was named the Hammersley
Range. Their horses had suffered considerably, and had lost some of their
shoes in the rough hills. From here they kept south meaning to strike the
Lyons River, discovered by Frank Gregory during his last trip. On coming
to a small tributary which he named the Hardey, he formed a depot camp.
Leaving some of the party and the most sore-footed of the horses, he
pushed on with three men, Brown, Harding, and Brockman, taking three
packhorses and provisions for eight days.

On the 23rd of June they came on a large western-flowing river, which he
called the Ashburton, and which has since proved to be the longest river
in Western Australia. Having crossed this river, and still pursuing a
southerly course, he arrived at a sandstone tableland, and on the 23rd
had, as Gregory writes, "at last the satisfaction of observing the bold
outlines of Mount Augustus."

He returned to the depot camp on the 29th, and though anxious to follow
up the Ashburton to the east, the condition of his horses' feet and the
lack of shoes prevented him. During the return journey to Nickol Bay, he
ascended Mount Samson, and from the summit obtained an extensive view
that embraced every prominent peak within seventy miles, including Mount
Bruce to the north, and Mount Augustus to the south, the distance between
these two elevations being 124 geographical miles. They crossed the
Hammersley Range on to the level plains of the Fortescue by means of a
far easier pass than that used on the outward journey, and arrived at the
Bay on the 19th of July.

On the 31st of July Gregory started on a new expedition to the east. On
the 9th of August he came to a river which apparently headed from the
direction they desired to explore -- namely the south-east. Crossing
another river, which they named the Shaw, the explorers, still keeping
east and south of east, found on the 27th of August, a river of some
importance running through a large extent of good pastoral and
agricultural land. This river was named the De Grey, but as their present
object was to push to the south-east, they left its promising banks and
proceeded into a hilly country where they soon became involved in deep
ravines. After surmounting a rugged tableland, they camped that night at
some springs.

The next night, the 29th of August, they came, some time after dark, on
to the bank of a wide river lined with the magnificent weeping tea-trees.
As three of the horses were tired out, Gregory determined to follow this
river up for a day or two, instead of closing with a range of granite
hills, capped with horizontal sandstones, which loomed threateningly in
their path.

So for two or three days they continued on the Oakover, as he christened
the river, and followed its western branch; a tributary of that led them
in amongst the ranges, which were threaded by an easy pass. On the 2nd of
September they got through the ranges and emerged upon open sandy plains
of great extent, with nothing visible across the vast expanse but low
ridges of red drift-sand. Here it was Gregory's lot to experience a test
almost equal to one of the grim tramps that had tried Sturt and Eyre.

He camped at a native deserted camp, and the next day failing to find any
water ahead, had to return and form a depot. Here he left five of the
party with instructions to remain three days and then fall back upon the
Oakover. He himself, with Brown and Harding, and six horses, went on to
find a passage.

So far he had encountered fewer obstacles, and made more encouraging
discoveries than had fallen to the lot of any other Western Australian
explorer; but he was now confronted with the stern presence that had
daunted the bravest and best in Australia. In front of him lay barren
plains, hills of drifted sand, and the ominous red haze of the desert.
Let Gregory describe the scene in his own words, as the locality has
become historic:--

The three men started on the 6th of September, "steering south-south-east
along the ranges, looking for some stream-bed that might lead us through
the plains, but I was disappointed to find that they were all lost in the
first mile after leaving the hills, and as crossing the numerous ridges
of sand proved very fatiguing to the horses, we determined once more to
attempt to strike to the eastward between the ridges, which we did for
fifteen miles, when our horses again showed signs of failing us, which
left us the only alternative of either pushing on at all hazards to a
distant range that was just visible to the eastward, where, from the
numerous native fires and general depression of the country, there was
every reason to think a large river would be found to exist, or to make
for some deep rocky gorges in the granite hills ten miles to the south,
in which there was every prospect of finding water. In the former case
the travelling would be smoothest, but the distance so great that, in the
event of our failing to find water, we probably should not succeed in
bringing back one of our horses; while in the latter we should have to
climb over the sand-ridges which we had already found so fatiguing; this
course, however, involved the least amount of risk, and we accordingly
struck south four miles and halted for the night.

"7th September. The horses did not look much refreshed by the night's
rest; we, however, divided three gallons of water amongst them, and
started off early, in the hope of reaching the ranges by noon, but we had
not gone three miles when one of the pack-horses that was carrying less
than forty pounds weight began to fail, and the load was placed on my
saddle-horse; it did not, however, enable him to get on more than a
couple of miles further, when we were compelled to abandon him, leaving
him under the shade of the only tree we could find, in the hope that we
could bring back water to his relief. Finding that it would be many hours
before the horses could be got on to the ranges, I started ahead on foot,
leaving Brown and Harding to come on gently, while I was to make a signal
by fires if successful in finding water. Two hours' heavy toil through
the sand, under a broiling sun, brought me to the ranges, where I
continued to hunt up one ravine after another until 5 p.m. without
success. Twelve hours' almost incessant walking, on a scanty breakfast
and without water, with the thermometer over a hundred degrees of
Fahrenheit, began to tell upon me severely; so much so that by the time I
had tracked up my companions (who had reached the hills by 1 p.m. and
were anxiously waiting for me) it was as much as I could do to carry my
rifle and accoutrements. The horses were looking truly wretched, and I
was convinced that the only chance of saving them, if water was not
found, would be by abandoning our pack-saddles, provisions, and
everything we could possibly spare, and try and recover them afterwards
if practicable. We therefore encamped for the night on the last plot of
grass we could find, and proceeded to make arrangements for an early
start in the morning. There was still a few pints of water in the kegs,
having been very sparing in the use of it; this enabled us to have a
little tea and make a small quantity of damper, of which we all stood in
much need. Camp 77.

"8th September. At 4 p.m. we were again up, having disposed of our
equipments and provisions, except our riding-saddles, instruments, and
firearms, by suspending them in the branches of a low tree. We divided a
pint of water for our breakfast, and by the first peep of dawn were
driving our famished horses at their best speed towards the depot, which
was now thirty-two miles distant. For the first eight miles they went on
pretty well, but the moment the sun began to have power they flagged
greatly, and it was not long before we were obliged to relinquish another
horse quite unable to proceed. By 9 a.m. I found that my previous day's
march, and the small allowance of food that I had taken was beginning to
have its effects upon me, and that it was probable that I could not reach
the depot before the next morning, by which time the party left there
were to fall back to the Oakover; I therefore directed Brown, who was
somewhat fresher than myself, to push on to the camp and bring out fresh
horses and water, while Harding and myself would do our best to bring on
any straggling horses that could not keep up with him. By dark we
succeeded in reaching to within nine miles of the depot, finding
unmistakable signs towards evening of the condition to which the horses
taken on by Brown were reduced, by the saddles, guns, hobbles, and even
bridles, scattered along the line of march, which had been taken off to
enable them to get on a few miles further."

Next morning they met Brown within a few miles of the depot coming back
to them with water. All the horses but the two which had been left at the
remotest point were recovered.

Further on Gregory remarks upon the painful effects produced on the
horses by excessive heat and thirst:--

"I cannot omit to remark the singular effects of excessive thirst upon
the eyes of the horses; they absolutely sunk into their heads until there
was a hollow of sufficient depth to bury the thumb in, and there was an
appearance as though the whole of the head had shrunk with them,
producing a very unpleasant and ghastly expression."

Gregory was now convinced that the sandy tract before him was not to be
crossed with the means at his command, so reluctantly he had to return to
the Oakover and follow that river down to its junction with the De Grey.
Down the united streams, which now bore the name of the De Grey, the
weary explorers travelled through good fertile land, until the coast was
reached on the 25th of September. The worn-out state of their horses
delayed them greatly in getting across a piece of dry country between the
Yule and the Sherlock, where one animal had to be abandoned.

On the 18th of October, they reached Nickol Bay, and were gladly welcomed
by the crew of the Dolphin, who had profitably passed their time in
collecting several tons of pearl-shell and a few pearls. On the 23rd the
horses and equipment were shipped, and the Dolphin sailed for Fremantle.

This journey ended Frank Gregory's active life as an explorer; and it was
a noteworthy career which now closed. For the western colony he had
thrown open to settlement the vast area of the north-western coastal
territory; and after relieving the Murchison from the stigma of
barrenness that rested on it, he had discovered and made known all the
rivers to the north and east, until the Oakover was reached.

It is singular that Frank Gregory should, like nearly all explorers, have
erred greatly in the deductions he drew. When forced to turn back from
the country beyond the Oakover, he much laments the fact, because, not
only had we now attained to within a very few miles of the longitude in
which, from various geographical data, there are just grounds for
believing that a large river may be found to exist draining central
Australia; but the character of the country appeared strongly to indicate
the vicinity of such a feature."

Of course we now know that no such river drains the centre of Australia.
On the contrary, beyond Gregory's eastern limit there occurs a long
stretch of coastline unmarked by the mouth of any river. Inland, to the
southward, the country even in this day is known as the most hostile and
repellant desert in Australia, markedly deficient in continuous
watercourses. Providence, then, restrained his footsteps from a land
wherein earth and sun seem to unite in hostility against the white
intruder. It is a pity that Frank Gregory did not give his undoubted
powers of description free scope in his Journal. Now and again he gives
them rein; but soon calls a halt, as though alarmed that picturesque
language should be found in a scientific, geographical journal. His
brother Augustus was unfortunately just as correct and precise.

Frank went to reside in Queensland in 1862, and was nominated to the
Legislative Council of that colony in 1874. Before going to Queensland he
had acted for some time as Surveyor-General of Western Australia. He was
married at Ipswich, Queensland, to the daughter of Alexander Hume. He
held office for some time in the McIlwraith Ministry, as
Postmaster-General. He was a gold medallist of the Royal Geographical
Society, and one of the best of the Australian explorers, as bushman,
navigator, surveyor, and scientist. He died at Toowoomba, in 1888, on the
24th of October.



CHAPTER 19. FROM WEST TO EAST.


19.1. AUSTIN.

By 1854 the gold fever was running high in Australia, and each colony was
eager to discover new diggings within its borders. Robert Austin,
Assistant Surveyor-General of Western Australia, was instructed to take
charge of an inland exploring party to search for pastoral country, and
to examine the interior for indications of gold.

He started from the head of the Swan River on a north-easterly course,
and on the 16th of July reached a lake, rumours of whose existence had
been spread by the blacks, who had called it Cowcowing. The colonists had
hoped that it would prove to be a lake of fresh water in the Gascoyne
valley, but Cowcowing in reality was a salt marsh, no great distance from
the starting-point of Austin's expedition.

The lake was dry and its bed covered with salt incrustations, showing
that its waters are undoubtedly saline. Thence Austin made directly
north, and passing through repellant country, such as always fell to the
lot of the early western explorers in their initial efforts, he directed
his course to a distant range of table-topped hills. Here he found both
grass and water, and named the highest elevation Mount Kenneth, after
Kenneth Brown, a member of his party. Thence he kept a north-east course,
traversing stony plains intersected by the dry beds of sandy
watercourses. Here the party met with dire misfortune. The horses ate
from a patch of poisonous box plant, and nearly all of them were
disabled. A few escaped, but the greater number never recovered from the
effects of the poison, and fourteen died. Pushing on in the hope of
finding a safe place in which to recruit, Austin found himself so
crippled in his means of transit that he had to abandon all but his most
necessary stores.

He now made for Shark's Bay, whither a vessel was to be sent to render
him assistance or take the party home if required. The course to Shark's
Bay led them over country that did not tempt them to linger on the way.
On the 21st of September a sad accident occurred. They were then camped
at a spring near a cave in the face of a cliff, in which there were some
curious native rock-paintings. While resting here, a young man named
Charles Farmer accidentally shot himself in the arm, and in spite of the
most careful attention the poor fellow died of lockjaw in the most
terrible agony. He was buried at the cave-spring camp, and the highest
hill in the neighbourhood was christened Mount Farmer. His death and
burial reminds one of Sturt's friend Poole, who rests in the east of the
continent under the shadow of Mount Poole. Thus two lonely graves in the
Australian wilderness are guarded by mountains whose names perpetuate the
memory of their occupants. And who could desire a nobler monument than
the everlasting hills?

Austin now came to the upper tributaries of the Murchison only to find
them waterless. Even the deep cut channel of the Murchison itself was
dry. They crossed the river, but beyond it all their efforts to penetrate
westward were in vain. They had fought their way to within one hundred
miles of Shark's Bay, but they had then been so long without water that
further advance meant certain death. Even during the retreat to the
Murchison, the lives of the horses were saved only by the accidental
discovery of a small native well in a most improbable situation, namely,
in the middle of a bare ironstone plain. Their only course now was to
fall back on the Murchison, hoping that they would find water at their
crossing. Austin pushed on ahead of the main body, and struck the river
twenty-five miles below their previous crossing, to make the tantalising
discovery that the pools of water on which they had fixed their hopes
were hopelessly salt.

A desperate and vain search was made to the southward, during a day of
fierce and terrible heat; but on the next day, having made for some small
hills they had sighted, they providentially found both water and grass.
The whole party rested at this spot, which was gratefully named Mount
Welcome.

Nothing daunted by the sufferings he had undergone, Austin now made
another attempt to reach Shark's Bay. On the way to the Murchison, they
had induced an old native to come with them to point out the
watering-places of the blacks. At first he was able to show them one or
two that in all probability they would have missed, but after they had
crossed the Murchison and proceeded some distance to the westward, the
water the native had relied on was found to have disappeared, and it was
only after the most acute sufferings from thirst and the loss of some
more horses, that they managed to struggle back to Mount Welcome.

Austin's conduct during these terrible marches seems to have bordered on
the heroic. Whilst his companions fell away one by one and lay down to
die, and the one native of the wilds was cowering weeping under a bush,
he toiled on and managed to reach a little well which the blackfellow had
formerly shown him. Without resting, he tramped back with water to revive
his exhausted companions.

At Mount Welcome they found the water on the point of giving out, and
weak and exhausted though they were, an immediate start had to be made to
the Geraldine mine, a small settlement having been formed there to work
the galena lode discovered by Gregory. That they would ever reach the
mine the explorers could not hope; they and their horses were in a state
of extreme weakness, the distance to the mine was one hundred and sixty
miles, and to the highest point on the Murchison, where Gregory had found
water, their first stage was ninety miles. They began their journey at
midnight, and by means of forced marches, travelling day and night, they
reached Gregory's old camp on the river. Fortunately they had found a
small supply of water at one place on the way. From this point the worst
of their perils were passed. They followed the river down, obtaining
water from springs in the banks, and on the 27th of November arrived at
the mine, where they were warmly entertained. Thence they returned to
Perth, some by sea and some overland.

Austin's exploration had led to no profitable result. Cowcowing had
proved only a saline marsh similar to Lake Moore, the large lake which
had haunted Gregory; the upper Murchison was not of a nature to invite
further acquaintance or settlement; and the whole of the journey had been
a disheartening round of daily struggles with a barren and waterless
district, under the fiery sun of the southern summer.

Austin thought that eastward of his limit the country would improve; but
subsequent explorations have not substantiated his supposition. He had
had singularly hard fortune to contend against. After the serious loss he
sustained by the poisoning of his horses, a risk that cannot be
effectually warded off by the greatest care, he had been pitted against
exceptionally dry country, covered with dense scrub and almost grassless,
in which the men and horses must assuredly have lost their lives but for
his dauntless and heroic conduct.

Austin afterwards settled in North Queensland, and followed the
profession of mining surveyor.

19.2. SIR JOHN FORREST.

[Illustration. John Forrest in 1874.]

John Forrest, the explorer who ultimately succeeded in crossing the
hitherto impassable desert of the western centre, now made his first
essay. An old rumour that the blacks had slain some white men and their
horses on a salt lake in the interior was now revived, and gained some
credence. A black who stated that he had visited the scene of the
incident was interviewed, and Baron von Mueller wrote to the Western
Australian Government offering to lead a party thither and ascertain if
there was any truth in the report. The Government favourably considered
the offer, and made preparations to send out a party. Von Mueller was
prevented from taking charge, and the command was given to John Forrest,
then a surveyor in the Government service. Forrest was born near Bunbury,
Western Australia, on the 22nd of August, 1847, and entered the Survey
Department of West Australia in December 1865.

On the 26th of April, 1869, Forrest left Yarraging, then the furthest
station to the eastward. When camped at a native well, visited by Austin
thirteen years before, he says that he could still distinctly see the
tracks of that explorer's horses. Past this spot he fell in with some
natives who told him that a large party of men and horses had died in a
locality away to the north, and that a gun belonging to the party was in
possession of the natives. On closer examination this story was proved to
have its origin in the death of Austin's horses.

Forrest continued his journey to the east, and on the 18th came to a
large dry salt lake, which he named Lake Barlee. An attempt to cross this
lake resulted in the bogging of the horses, and it was only after
strenuous exertions that the horses and packs were once more brought on
to hard ground. Lake Barlee was afterwards found to be of considerable
size, extending for more than forty miles to the eastward.

The native guide Forrest had with him now began to express doubts as to
his knowledge of the exact spot at which he saw the remains. After
considerable search, Forrest came across a large party of the aborigines
of the district. These men, however, proved to be anything but friendly;
they threw dowaks at the guide, and advised the whites to go back before
they were killed. Next morning they had speech with two of them, who said
that the bones were those of horses, some distance to the north; they
said they would come to the camp the next day and lead the whites there,
but they did not fulfil their promise. No other profitable intercourse
with the blacks was possible. One old man howled piteously all the time
they were in his company, and another, who had two children with him,
gave them to understand most emphatically that he had never heard of any
horses having been killed, though some natives had just killed and eaten
his own brother.

After vainly searching the district for many days, Forrest determined to
utilise the remainder of the time at his disposal by examining the
country as far to the eastward as his resources would permit. It was now
clear that the story of the white men's remains had originated in the
skeletons of the horses that perished during Austin's trip. No matter how
circumstantial might be a narration of the blacks, they invariably
contradicted themselves the next time they were interrogated, and it was
evident that no useful purpose would be served by following them on a
foolish errand from place to place. Forrest therefore penetrated some
distance east, but was not encouraged by the discovery of any useful
country. Nevertheless, he started on a solitary expedition ahead, taking
only one black boy and provisions for seven days. He reached a point one
hundred miles beyond the camp of the main body, to the eastward of Mount
Margaret on the present goldfields. He ascended the highest tree he could
find, and found the outlook was dreary and desolate. The country was
certainly slightly more open than that hitherto traversed, but it was
covered with spinifex, interspersed with an occasional stunted gum-tree.
Rough sandstone cliffs were visible about six miles to the north-east,
and more to the north appeared a narrow line of samphire flats with gum
trees and cypress growing on their edges. Of surface water there was no
appearance.

On his homeward route Forrest kept a more northerly and westerly course,
and crossed Lake Barlee and examined the northern shore; but he found
nothing to induce him to modify the unfavourable opinion pronounced on
the country by other explorers. He returned to Perth on the 6th August.

Forrest was next placed at the head of an expedition which was to cross
to Adelaide by way of the shores of the Great Australian Bight, along the
same ill-omened route followed by Eyre, and never trodden since his
remarkable journey. This time the historic cliffs were to be traversed
with but slight privation and no bloodshed. Though the information
supplied by Eyre was considered to be thoroughly trustworthy, it was
recognized that with the scanty means of observation at his command and
his famished condition, a few important facts might have escaped his
notice, and that if his route were followed by a well-equipped party, the
terrors of the region might assume less gigantic proportions.

Forrest's company was to consist of the leader and his brother Alexander,
two white men, and two natives, one of whom had accompanied Forrest on
his former trip. A coasting schooner, the Adur, of 30 tons, was to
accompany them round the coast, calling at Esperance Bay, Israelite Bay,
and Eucla, supplying them with provisions at these depots.

On the 30th of March they left Perth. The first part of the journey to
Esperance Bay was through comparatively settled and well-known country,
so that no fresh interest attached to it. They arrived at Dempster's
station at Esperance a few days before the Adur sailed into the Bay, and
on the 9th of May, 1870, they started on their next stage to Israelite
Bay.

[Map. Forest's Route 1869; Forrest's Route 1870; Forrest's Route 1874;
Giles's Route 1873; Grey's Route 1836 and 1837 and 1839.]

From Esperance Bay to Israelite Bay the journey lacked incident, and it
was not until Forrest again parted from his relief boat that he had to
encounter the most serious part of his undertaking. He had now to face
the line of cliffs which frowned over the Bight, behind which he had, as
he knew, little or no chance of finding water for 150 miles. Having made
what arrangements he could to carry water, he left the last water on the
5th of April. About a week afterwards he reached the break in the cliffs,
where water could be obtained by digging in the sandhills. Luckily they
had found many small rock-holes filled with water, which had enabled them
to push steadily on. Forrest says that the cliffs, which fell
perpendicularly to the sea, although grand in the extreme, were terrible
to gaze from:--

"After looking very cautiously over the precipice, we all ran back, quite
terrified by the dreadful view."

While resting and recruiting at the sandhills, he made an excursion to
the north, and after passing through a fringe of scrub twelve miles deep,
he came upon most beautifully-grassed downs. At fifty miles from the sea
there was nothing visible as far as the eye could reach but gentle
undulating plains of grass and saltbush. There being no prospects of
water, he was forced to turn back, fortunately finding a few surface
pools both on his outward and homeward way.

On the 24th they started from the sandhills for Eucla, the last
meeting-place appointed with the Adur. During this stage he kept to the
north of the Hampton Range, and through a country well-grassed but
destitute of surface water. The party reached Eucla on the 2nd of July,
and found the Adur duly awaiting them. Whilst at Eucla, Forrest, in
company with his brother, made another excursion to the north; he
penetrated some thirty miles inland, and found as before boundless
plains, beautifully grassed, though destitute of any signs of water.

After leaving Eucla, the explorers had a distressing stage to the head of
the Great Bight, where they finally obtained water by digging in the
sand. On this stage the horses suffered more than on any previous one,
having had to travel three days without a drink. From this point they
soon reached the settled districts of South Australia in safety.

Although this journey of Forrest's cannot strictly be called an exploring
expedition, inasmuch as he repeated the journey made under such terrible
conditions by Eyre travelling in the opposite direction, yet it is of
first-rate importance, inasmuch as, owing to the greater facilities he
enjoyed, he was able to pronounce a more final verdict than Eyre was able
to give. Forrest found that the gloomy thicket was a fringe confined to
the immediate coast-line. On every occasion that he penetrated it, he
came on good pastoral land beyond. He writes:--

"The country passed over between longitude 126 degrees 24 minutes and 128
degrees 30 minutes East as a grazing country far surpasses anything I
have ever seen. There is nothing in the settled portion of Western
Australia equal to it, either in extent or quality; but the absence of
permanent water is a great drawback...The country is very level, with
scarcely any undulation, and becomes clearer as you proceed north."

On his arrival in Adelaide he received a hearty welcome, and a similar
reception was accorded him on his return to Perth. Unfortunately this
expedition destroyed all hope of the existence of any river, the mouth of
which might have been crossed unwittingly by Eyre.

We now come to that exploit which gained for Forrest a place in the
foremost rank of Australian explorers. The western central desert had
long defied the explorers in their attempts to cross its dread confines.
But the young West Australian took his men and most of his horses through
the very heart of the terrible desert. We have seen how three expeditions
had started from the east for the purpose of making this continental
traverse, all differently composed -- one with the aid of camels only,
one with a composite equipment of both horses and camels, and the third
with only horses. The successful expedition to be now recorded travelled
from west to east, and crossed the desert with horses only.

[Illustration. Members of the Exploring Expedition, Geraldton to
Adelaide, 1874.
Standing, left to right: Tommy Pierre, Tommy Windich, James Kennedy,
James Sweeny.
Seated, left to right: Alexander Forrest (Second in Command), John
Forrest (In Command).]

On the 14th of April, 1874, Forrest left Yuin, then the border of
settlement on the Murchison, accompanied by his brother Alexander, two
white men, and two natives, to endeavour to cross the unknown stretch of
desert country that separated the colonies of eastern Australia from the
western settlements. Their route at first lay along the Murchison River,
following the upper course, which they found to run through well-grassed
country, available for either sheep or cattle. From the crest of the head
watershed they had a view of their future travelling-ground to the
eastward. It appeared level, with low elevations, but there was a lack of
conspicuous hills, which did not promise favourably for water-finding,
though good pasture might be obtainable.

For the next few days the party were dependent for water on occasional
springs and scanty clay-pans. On the 27th, when following down a creek,
they suddenly came upon a fine spring, apparently permanent, which is
described by Forrest in his journal as one of the best he had ever seen,
both the grass and other herbage around being of fine quality. This place
he named Windich Springs, after Tommy Windich, one of the blacks who had
now been with Forrest on three expeditions. To the north-west was a fine
range of hills, which he named the Carnarvon Range. On leaving this
oasis, the explorers found themselves in less attractive country;
spinifex and sand became more frequent features of the landscape, and the
occasional water-supply became precarious.

On the 2nd of June, Forrest discovered the spring which aided them so
greatly in their efforts to cross. This he called Weld Springs, and he
describes it as unlimited in supply, clear, fresh, and extending down its
gully for over twenty chains. At this relief camp they halted in order to
rest the horses.

On the 8th Forrest started on a scouting expedition ahead, taking only a
black boy with him. He fully anticipated finding water, for as yet they
had not reached a waterless region, and he left instructions for the rest
to follow in his tracks in a day's time. He was unfortunate in his
selection of a course, for it led them for more than twenty miles over
undulating sand-ridges, without a sight of any indication of the presence
of water. At daybreak, from the top of a low stony rise, he obtained an
extensive outlook. Far as he could see to the north and east, nothing was
visible but the level unending spinifex; not a watercourse or a hill in
sight. Evidently they were trespassing on the edge of the central desert.

Turning back they met the remainder of the party about twenty miles from
Weld Springs; and the whole body retreated to their lately deserted camp.
After a day's rest, Alexander Forrest and a black boy started to the
south-east searching for water. At one o'clock sixty or seventy natives
appeared on the brow of the rise overlooking the camp. They were painted
and dressed in war costume, and evidently planning an attack. After some
consultation they suddenly descended the <DW72> and dashed at the camp.
Fortunately the whites were on the alert, and a well-directed volley sent
them in head-long retreat to their vantage-point on the brow of the
ridge, where they held a fresh council of war. Presently they renewed the
assault, but a rifle-shot from Forrest put an end to the skirmish. That
evening Alexander and the boy returned, and were much surprised to hear
of the adventure with the blacks. They had been over fifty miles from
camp and had passed over some well-grassed country but had found no
water. As their detention at Weld Springs promised to be indefinite, the
party then built a rough shelter of stones in order to ensure themselves
some measure of protection against night attacks. When this small defence
work was finished, Forrest again reconnoitred ahead for water accompanied
by one black boy, and found some clay waterholes, of no great extent, but
sufficient for camping purposes. Thither the camp was shifted.

On the 22nd the leader made another search in advance, and in thirty
miles came to a fine supply of water, in a gully running through a
well-grassed plain whereon there was abundance of good feed for the
horses. To the south of this spot there was a small salt lake, which he
named Lake Augusta. Another good spring in grassy country was also found.
On the 30th of June Forrest made a scouting excursion to the eastward,
but experienced ill fortune; for having penetrated as far as possible
into the spinifex country, his horses gave out. By the aid of some scanty
pools of rainwater trapped in some rocks, he succeeded in getting a short
distance farther on foot, and in reaching a low range. From its summit he
obtained an extensive but depressing view, such as too often greeted the
explorer at that time and in that part of Australia. Far away to the
north and east, the grey horizon was as level and as uniform as the
placid sea; spinifex everywhere, unbroken by ranges or elevations within
over thirty miles.

He was now worried and perplexed as to the direction of his future
movements. The main party were following up his tracks; but to plunge
unthinkingly into such a desert as lay in front of them were sheer
madness. Fate relented, however, and after much toilsome search Forrest
found a small supply of water, enough for a few days, where he gratefully
awaited the approach of his companions.

During the short respite thus accorded them, a diligent search for water
was made amongst the low ranges, the only alternative being a retreat of
seventy miles. A little more water was found to the south-east, and, as
there was coarse rough grass around the well, it helped to prolong their
rest and afforded more time for further search. This time Alexander
Forrest went ahead, and twenty-five miles further to the eastward found a
spring, which was named after him, the Alexander Springs.

Another scouting excursion to the east was likewise fortunate, as far as
water was concerned, but the feed for the horses was very poor indeed,
and they were suffering greatly. They were now within one hundred miles
of Gosse's furthest point west, but that hundred miles was one long line
of desert perils. Repeated efforts to traverse it only reduced the little
remaining strength in the horses, leading to no discovery of water. But
at length a kindly shower filled some rock holes to the north-east of
their camp, and after much exertion and hardship they reached the old
camp that Giles had named Fort Mueller, and were able to congratulate
themselves upon having been the first to bridge the central gap of desert
that separated the two colonies.

As the course of Forrest's party from Fort Mueller to the telegraph line
was more or less the same as that pursued by Gosse, it is unnecessary to
follow the journal to its end. It is enough to state that on Sunday, the
27th of September, the telegraph line was reached at a point some
distance to the north of the Peake station. Thus safely concluded an
expedition that makes a mark in our geographical history, although it was
accompanied by no notable discovery. Central Australia had now been
crossed in the same zone that had turned back the explorers from the
east, and the fact that Forrest got through, equipped with only the
ordinary outfit of horses stamped him as a leader of unusual foresight
and judgment.

Forrest's last expedition was rather a survey than a journey of
discovery. In 1883, in company with several other surveyors, he landed at
Roebuck Bay, and examined a large portion of the Kimberley Division. He
proceeded from Roebuck Bay to the Fitzroy River, which his brother had
lately explored, and examined the intermediate country as far as St.
George's Range, reporting that it consisted mainly of rich elevated
grassy plains with abundance of water. He also investigated Cambridge
Gulf and the lowest part of the Ord River.

After quitting the field of exploration, John Forrest entered the wider
arena of politics, in which his reputation was enhanced. He held the
office of Premier of Western Australia continuously for ten years, and he
still fills a distinguished position among the public men of federated
Australia. He was awarded the Gold Medal of the Royal Geographical
Society in 1876, and is now a G.C.M.G. and a Privy Councillor.

19.3. ALEXANDER FORREST.

[Illustration. Alexander Forrest.]

Alexander Forrest was born in 1849, and died in 1901. He accompanied
his brother, as we have already noted, in two important expeditions, and
in 1871 he took charge of a private expedition to the eastward in search
of pastoral country. Owing to a late start, he and his party were
compelled to make for the coast when they had reached latitude 31 degrees
south, longitude 123 degrees east. This course led them to Mount Ragged,
whence, proceeding westerly, they returned to Perth by way of Esperance,
having penetrated inland six hundred miles and found a considerable area
of good country.

In 1879, Alexander Forrest led an expedition from the De Grey River to
the now customary goal, the overland telegraph line of South Australia.
He left the De Grey on the 25th of February, and reached Beagle Bay on
the 10th of April, the country passed over being like most land in the
immediate neighbourhood of the coast, poor and indifferent.

From Beagle Bay he followed the coast round to the Fitzroy, and proceeded
up that river until he encountered a range, which was named the King
Leopold Range. Here the party left the Fitzroy, of which river Forrest
speaks very highly, and struck north, looking for a pass through the
range. It proved to be very rough and precipitous, and when at last they
reached the sea, they found themselves in an angle, wedged in between the
sea and the range, romantic and picturesque, according to Forrest's
description, but quite impassible. Here, too, the natives approached them
in threatening numbers, but through the exercise of tact, peace was
preserved. On the 22nd of June they attacked one tier of the range, and
after a steep climb, which caused the death of one horse, they reached
the height of 800 feet and camped. Finding it so hard upon the horses,
Forrest left them to rest, and went on foot to discover a road. But he
came upon endless rugged zigzags, which so involved and baffled him that
he gave it up in despair, and returned. He had now, most reluctantly, to
abandon the idea of surmounting the range, and to make for the Fitzroy
once more. Following up the Margaret, a tributary of the Fitzroy, he
managed to work round the southern end of the range, which still frowned
defiance at him, and at last reached the summit, the crest of a
tableland, whence he saw before him good grassy hills and plains. Of this
country, which he called Nicholson Plains, Forrest speaks most
enthusiastically, and doubtless, after the late struggle with the range,
it must have appeared a perfect picture of enchantment.

On the 24th they reached a fine river, which was then running strong.
They named it the Ord, and followed its course for a time. Thence he
continued his way to the line, and on the 18th of August came to the
Victoria River. From the Victoria, Forrest had a hard struggle to reach
the telegraph line. The rations being nearly exhausted, and one man being
very ill, the leader started for Daly Waters station, taking one man with
him. After much suffering and privation they at last reached the line,
and obtained water at some tanks kept for the use of the line repairers.
The absence of a map of the line led Forrest to follow it north, away
from Daly Waters, and it was four days before they overtook a repairing
party and obtained food.

Alexander Forrest was afterwards for many years a member of the
Legislative Council of West Australia, was for six years Mayor of Perth
and a C.M.G. He died on the 20th June, 1901. A bronze statue was
erected to his memory in Perth, Western Australia, by his friends.



CHAPTER 20. LATER EXPLORATION IN THE WEST.

[ Illustration. Carr-Boyd and Camel. Photographed at Laverton, Western
Australia, October, 1906.]


20.1. CAMBRIDGE GULF AND THE KIMBERLEY DISTRICT.

The futile rush for gold to the Kimberley district had one good result --
a better appreciation of its pastoral capabilities, and numerous short
expeditions were made in search of grazing country.

Amongst these was one by W.J. O'Donnell and W. Carr-Boyd, who explored an
area extending from the overland line in the direction of Roebourne, and
were fortunate in finding good country. Later, in 1896, Carr-Boyd,
accompanied by a companion named David Breardon, who was afterwards out
with David Carnegie, visited the country about the Rawlinson Ranges and
penetrated to Forrest's Alexander Spring. His name is also known in
connection with exploration in the Northern Territory, and he has made
several excursions between the Southern goldfields of West Australia and
the South Australian border.

His experiences were not unlike those of the other explorers; he had to
struggle on against heat, thirst, and spinifex, and found occasional
tracts of pastoral land destitute of surface water.

In 1884 Harry Stockdale, an experienced bushman, started from Cambridge
Gulf in order to investigate the country to the southward, and explore
the land in its vicinity.

From the Gulf southward, he traversed well-watered and diversified
country till he reached Buchanan's Creek, which must be distinguished
from the stream of the same name in the Northern Territory of South
Australia.* Having formed a depot there, he hoped to make further
explorations, but owing to certain irregularities which had occurred
among his followers in his absence on a flying trip, he was compelled to
start immediately for his destination on the overland line. A very
singular incident happened during this latter part of his journey. Two of
the men, named Mulcay and Ashton desired, under the plea of sickness, to
be left behind, and resisted every attempt to turn them from their
purpose. Stockdale reached the line after suffering great hardship, but
the fate of the two abandoned men eluded all subsequent search.

*[Footnote.] See Chapter 16.

20.2. LINDSAY AND THE ELDER EXPLORING EXPEDITION.

[Illustration. Sir Thomas Elder, G.C.M.G. Photo: Duryea, Adelaide.

Illustration. David Lindsay.]

In 1891 Sir Thomas Elder of South Australia, who had already done much in
the cause of exploration, projected another expedition on a large and
most ambitious plan. It was called The Elder Exploring Scientific
Expedition, and its main purpose was announced to be the completion of
the exploration of Australia. A map was prepared on which a huge extent
of the continent was partitioned off into blocks each bearing a
distinctive letter, A, B, C, D, etc., quite irrespective of the fact that
all these blocks had been partially explored and that some had even been
settled.

The leadership of the party was offered to and accepted by David Lindsay,
who had already won for himself a name as a capable explorer in South
Australia. The second in charge was L.A. Wells. As the expedition was in
the main destitute of any striking results, a short synopsis of the
journey will satisfy our requirements.

Shortly after the expedition crossed the border-line between South
Australia and West Australia, Mr. Leech, one of the responsible officers,
was despatched on a fruitless trip northward to search for traces of the
ill-fated Gibson, who had perished with Giles some seventeen years
previously. The expedition then proceeded via Fort Mueller to Mount
Squires, where water was obtainable. Thence a south-west course was taken
to Queen Victoria's Spring. In latitude 29 degrees, 270 miles south of
Mount Squires, the eastern end of a patch of good pastoral country was
observed. On reaching the springs they were found to be dry, and all the
intended exploration which was to be effected from this base had to be
abandoned, the party having to push on to Fraser's Range; and this hasty
trip through the desert comprised the only useful work done. Lindsay
reported that, when half-way to the Range, they passed some good country
consisting of rich red soil, producing good stock bushes but all
exceedingly dry. A belt of country deserving the attention of prospectors
was also noted. Having rested some time at the Range, they set out to
examine, if possible, the western side of the desert they had just
traversed, but lack of water compelled them to take an extreme westerly
course to the Murchison by way of Mount Monger, passing through a country
covered with miserable thicket on a sandy soil with granite outcrops. On
the 1st of January, 1892, they reached their destination, when the
majority of the members left the party, and the leader was recalled to
Adelaide.

At the termination of the original expedition, or rather before its
conclusion was absolutely determined on, L.A. Wells made a flying trip
into the district lying between Giles's track of 1876 and Forrest's route
of 1874. Starting from his depot at Welbundinum, he completed the
examination of what was practically the whole of the still unexplored
portion in about six weeks, between the 23rd of February and the 4th of
April. During this expedition he travelled 834 miles, discovered some
fine ranges and hills, a large extent of pastoral country, some
apparently auriferous land, but no water of a permanent kind. The results
were indeed very promising, more valuable than those of the original
Elder Expedition, and Wells, whose hopes had risen with the success, was
intensely disappointed to find on his return that the expedition had been
disbanded. Both Lindsay and Wells were natives of South Australia,
Lindsay having been born at Goolwa, and Wells at Yallum station in the
south-east, which was owned by his father and uncle. Wells joined the
Survey Department of South Australia when but eighteen, and at
twenty-three was appointed assistant-surveyor to the North Territory
Border expedition. On the settlement of the border question he returned
to Adelaide, and is now engaged on the Victoria River.

20.3. WELLS AND CARNEGIE IN THE NORTHERN DESERT.

[Illustration. L.A. Wells. Photo: Duryea, Adelaide.]

By this time the gold rush to the southern portion of Western Australia
had set in strong, and the country that had so long repelled the pastoral
pioneer by its aridity was now overrun with prospectors, their camps
supplied with water by condensers at the salt lakes and pools. At first
the loss of life was very great; for it was not likely that a district
that could be safely traversed only by the hardiest and most experienced
bushmen would freely yield its secrets to untried men. Of the many deaths
that occurred from thirst, no complete record will ever be available.
Some unrecognisable and mummified remains may some day be found amid the
untrodden waste; but few have yet been tempted to break in upon the
solitude of the dead men of the desert.

As the southern goldfields spread and became thickly-populated, the food
supply was an important question, and men's eyes naturally turned to the
well-stocked northern stations, from which many cattle were being sent
south by steamer. Though the distance overland was not prohibitive, the
belt of desert country that intervened, upon which Warburton to his
sorrow was the first to venture, forbade the passage of stock. This belt
of Sahara extended, roughly speaking, from the eastern border of the
colony to the head waters of the western coastal rivers. North and south
it lay between the parallels of 19 degrees and 31 degrees south. As yet
no daring attempt had been made to traverse its barren confines from
south to north. But, to the born explorer, difficulty and danger give an
added zest to geographical research; and in the year 1896 two separate
expeditions sought to cross this dreadful zone. Both left civilization
within a few days of each other. The first to start was known as the
Calvert Expedition, from its originator. It was under L.A. Wells, the
South Australian surveyor who had been the energetic second of the former
Elder Expedition. The other was equipped and led by the Honourable David
Carnegie.

Wells formed a depot at a spot well provided with camel feed and water,
at some distance to the south-west of Forrest's Lake Augusta, which he
found, at that time, dry. Here he left the main part of his caravan to
await his return whilst he made a flying trip to the north. He was away
from the 10th of August to the 8th of September, during which he found at
his furthest point, a distance of two hundred miles, a good native well,
which he named Midway Well. On the 14th of September the whole party made
a start, and reached Midway Well on the 29th, all well. At Separation
Well, another good well a little farther to the north, the party
separated, C.F. Wells, a cousin of the leader, and G.L. Jones, intending
to travel for about eighty miles in a north-west direction to examine the
country, and then to return on a north-east course and rejoin the caravan
at Joanna Springs, which had relieved Warburton in his extremity. About
thirty miles south of Joanna Springs, where the leader expected the two
men to cut his tracks, Wells found his camels suffering terribly from the
extreme heat and their labours among the constantly-recurring
sand-ridges, whilst the scanty native wells they found were insufficient
to give their camels water. When at last they reached the latitude of
Joanna Springs they had been obliged to abandon three camels and all
their equipment except the actual necessaries.

It was also evident that the longitude of the springs given by Warburton
was wrong, for all the country around was a sandy desert without the
slightest indication of well or spring. To linger in such a spot was to
court destruction, and they had to push on to the Fitzroy as fast as
their worn-out camels could take them. The reader will remember that
Warburton had failed to find A.C. Gregory's most southerly point on
Sturt's Creek when looking for it, and it was afterwards proved that
Joanna Springs had been charted by him about ten miles to the westward of
its true position. On the 7th of November, in the darkness of morning
they at last reached the Fitzroy, with the camels just at their last
gasp.

On the 16th of December, Wells, accompanied by that veteran pioneer N.
Buchanan, formerly of Queensland, started back with an Afghan, a native
boy, and eight camels, to look for the two men, who he hoped had
succeeded in finding Joanna Springs. He was absent until the 10th of
January, 1897, when he was forced to return unsuccessful. At the
beginning of April, taking with him his former companions of the
expedition, Wells renewed the search, and on the 9th at last succeeded in
identifying the Joanna Springs of Warburton. On the 13th some articles
belonging to the lost men were found amongst the natives, but he did not
at that time find the bodies. He started again with two members of the
West Australia police force, Sub-Inspector Ord and Trooper Nicholson, and
native trackers. This time they were successful in inducing some natives
to guide them to the exact spot where the remains lay amongst the
spinifex and sand. The bodies were within six miles of the place where,
on the last search expedition, Wells had found articles of equipment with
the natives.

G.L. Jones had kept a journal which supplied the clue to the cause of
their death.

"He stated in his journal," says Wells, "that they had gone
west-north-west for five days after separating from the main party, then
travelling a short distance north-east, and that both he and Charles felt
the heat terribly and were both unwell. They then returned to the well
(Separation Well) after an absence of nine days, rested at the water five
days, and then started to follow our tracks northward. Afterwards one of
their camels died, which obliged them to walk a great deal, and they
became very weak and exhausted by the intense heat. When writing he says
that two days previously he attempted to follow their camels, which had
strayed, but after walking half-a-mile he felt too weak to proceed and
returned with difficulty. There was at that time about two quarts of
water remaining to them, and he did not think they could last long after
that was finished."

From the above extract from Wells's Journal, it is evident that the
unfortunate men lost their lives through a mistake in judgment in
returning to Separation Well, the straying away of their camels, and the
merciless rays of the desert sun.

The account of this, the first expedition to cross the great sandy desert
from south to north, confirms in every particular Warburton's experiences
of the difficulties of exploration in that region. The intense heat of
the sun, and its radiation from the red sand-ridges, the heat from both
sky and earth, render it nearly impossible to travel during day, the only
time when a man can perceive those slight indications which may
eventually lead him to water. The traveller is therefore compelled to
make night-stages, and frequently passes unheeding the very pool or well
that would have saved his life. During the night not only are the natural
physical features difficult to discern, but the birds, those water-guides
of the desert, are sleeping.

As soon as the news that Jones and Wells were missing was wired to Perth,
the West Australian Government promptly despatched W.P. Rudall in charge
of a search-party, from Braeside station on the Oakover River.

Crossing into the desert country, Rudall, guided by blacks, came upon a
camp in which footsteps, supposed to be those of the missing men, were
traceable. His camels failing him, the tracks were lost, and he was
obliged to return. A second search was likewise fruitless, but rumours
brought in by the natives of straying camels, caused a third party to be
organised. Rudall this time went south of the head of the Oakover, and
penetrated the dry spinifex country below the Tropic. Here the bodies of
two men, supposed to have been murdered by the natives, were found, but
on further investigation it was decided that the remains were not those
of the men they were searching for. On his return Rudall started out on a
final trip, and penetrated to a point sixty miles south of Joanna Spring
before returning. Though these journeys were not successful in attaining
the initial object of their search, they were of great service in gaining
much information concerning the hitherto unknown desert. Running easterly
into this dry belt, Rudall found a creek, which is now known as the
Rudall River.

[Illustration. David Wynford Carnegie.]

Four days after Wells had started, the Honourable David Carnegie, fourth
son of the ninth Earl of Southesk, born March 23rd, 1871, left an outpost
of civilization called Doyle's Well, some fifty miles south of Lake
Darlot, intending to cross Warburton's Desert on a north-easterly course,
about two hundred miles to the east of the route pursued by surveyor
Wells. The objects of this purely private expedition were (1) extension
of geographical knowledge; (2) the desire to ascertain if any practicable
stock-route existed between Kimberley and Coolgardie; (3) the discovery
of patches of auriferous country within the confines of the desert. In
the two last objects Carnegie was doomed to disappointment, but as a
geographical contribution to our scanty knowledge of north-west
Australia, the outcome of his repeated journey was distinctly valuable.

Carnegie started with three white men and a native boy, and for many days
passed through country that afforded no water for the camels; of which
they had nine. A native was induced to lead them to a singular spring
situated in a cavern twenty-five feet underground. Though the water was
not easy of access, having to be hauled up by bucket to the surface,
there was an ample supply for the camels, and, as Carnegie considered the
well to be permanent, he named it the Empress Spring.

The discovery of this subterranean spring was indeed a godsend, as when
they eventually reached Forrest's Alexander Spring they found it dry. A
similar experience had befallen W.W. Mills who, after Forrest's
exploration, had attempted to take over a mob of camels in Forrest's
tracks.

Strangely enough a lagoon of fresh water was found at the foot of the
creek in which the spring was situated, and this satisfied their wants.
From this sheet, which was named Woodhouse Lagoon, the party kept a
nearly northerly course across what Carnegie calls in his book "the great
undulating desert of gravel." Over this terrible region of drought and
desolation the party made their painful way by the aid of miserable
native wells, found with the greatest difficulty, and a few chance
patches of parakeelia,* until they were relieved by finding, through the
good offices of an aboriginal guide, a beautiful spring which was named
Helena Spring. They were then seven days out from Woodhouse Lagoon, and
during the last days of the stage they had been travelling across most
distressing parallel sand-ridges.

*[Footnote.] A ground plant which camels eat, and which assuages their
thirst.

From Helena Spring Carnegie struggled on, intending to strike the
northern settlements at Hall's Creek where there is a small mining
township. On the way there, while still in unexplored country, they
discovered one more oasis, in a rock hole, which was called Godfrey's
Tank, after Godfrey Massie, one of the party. On November 25th, 1896,
they congratulated themselves that they were at last clear of the desert
and its desolation, having come out on to a well-watered shady river,
running towards the northern coast. But a sad accident turned their
rejoicing into mourning. Charles Stansmore accidentally slipped on a rock
when out shooting, and his gun going off, he was shot through the heart
and died instantly. His friend Carnegie speaks most highly of him, and
his sudden death on the threshold of success was a sad blow to the
company. Stansmore was the third explorer to lose his life from a gun
accident.

At Hall's Creek Carnegie heard of the misfortune that had befallen Wells,
in the loss of two of his party, and he at once volunteered his
assistance; but as search-parties had already started out, his aid was
not required. He therefore rested for a short time before again trying
conclusions with the desert on the return journey. Sturt's Creek was by
this time occupied and stocked, and the party followed it down until they
arrived at its termination in Gregory's Salt Sea. From this point
Carnegie kept a southerly course to Lake Macdonald near the South
Australian border, passing on his way a striking range which he named the
Stansmore Range, after his unfortunate companion. Lake Macdonald was long
thought to be a continuation of Lake Amadeus, until the exploration of
Tietkins in 1889 proved its isolation. From Lake Macdonald, Carnegie, who
had now three horses in his equipment, kept a more south-westerly course
towards the Rawlinson Range, the endless sand-dunes still crossing his
track in dreary succession. So persistently did they rise across his path
that, on one day, eighty-six of them were crossed by the caravan during a
progress of eight hours. From the Rawlinson Range they kept on the same
south-west course until they struck their outward track at Alexander
Spring. A fall of rain fortunately replenished the spring shortly after
the arrival of the party. They reached Lake Darlot on the 15th of July,
and their desert pilgrimage was ended.

Not only did Carnegie get safely across the dreaded desert, but he
returned overland to his starting-point by a different route. He wrote a
book, Spinifex and Sand, which contains a most interesting account of
this journey, as well as a graphic and picturesque description of the
physical features of the Great Sandy Desert.

Carnegie died before he had made more than this one contribution to
Australian geography. Like the ill-fated Horrocks, he had the explorer's
ardent spirit. His restless and adventurous soul ever leading him onward
to the frontiers of settlement and the outskirts of civilised life, he
fell beneath a shower of poisoned arrows at Lokojo in Nigeria, on the
west coast of Africa, on the 27th of November, 1900.

20.4. HANN AND BROCKMAN IN THE NORTH-WEST.

[Illustration. Frank Hann. Explorer of the North-West, and discoverer of
a stock route between South Australia and Western Australia. Photo:
Mathewson, Brisbane.]

The isolation of that remote corner of the continent in which Grey had
made his maiden effort at exploration, added to the discouraging and
forbidding report brought back by Alexander Forrest of his repulse by the
King Leopold Range, had deterred further exploration there. Frank H.
Hann, who had been a Queensland pioneer, came over to Derby, and, after
one or two tentative excursions into the desert country to the south, had
his attention drawn to the unknown country to the north of the King
Leopold Range. Hann crossed the range with difficulty; but after
examining the country to the north and east on the coast side of the
range, he was so well satisfied with its pastoral capabilities that he
returned to Derby and applied for a pastoral lease.

Wishing to make a closer examination of the locality, he returned
accompanied by Sub-Inspector Ord. Some of the tributaries of the Fitzroy
were traced and named, and an extensive river, which Hann called the
Phillips, was afterwards re-named the Hann by the Surveyor-General of
Western Australia. One very rugged range could not be surmounted, and had
to be skirted to the east, as the only apparent gap was an impassable
gorge with precipitous sides, through which the Fitzroy River forced a
passage. It was named the Sir John Range. After more good pastoral
country was found, the party returned to Derby. Hann afterwards, in 1903,
made the first of several trips from Laverton, Western Australia, to
Oodnadatta in South Australia. He reported having found a practicable
stock-route, of which he was chiefly in search, as far as the Warburton
Ranges, and some pastoral land north and west of Elder Creek. Since then
he made another journey with the same object in view, but encountered
extremely dry weather and underwent many hardships. Hann was born in
Wiltshire, in 1846, and came to Victoria with his parents at a very early
age. He spent most of his life squatting in North Queensland, where he
held several station properties.

In the first year of the present century the Western Australian
Government followed up Hann's explorations north of the King Leopold
Range, by a larger and better-equipped party instructed to make a
thorough examination of the region. It was placed in charge of F.S.
Brockman, a Government surveyor, who had with him C. Crossland as second,
F. House as naturalist, and Gibbs Maitland as geologist.

Brockman was born in Western Australia in 1857, was educated at Bishop's
College, and after a spell in the bush on his father's properties, he
joined a Government Survey camp, as cadet. In 1879 he started as surveyor
on his own account. From 1882 to 1897 he was employed by the Lands and
Survey Department in many parts of Western Australia from Cambridge Gulf
in the north to the Great Bight in the south. At the time when he was
selected to lead the Kimberley expedition, he was Controller of the Field
Survey Staff.

Brockman was most successful in securing full information of this
long-secluded region; of its geographical, geological, and botanical
details. Many interesting photographs were obtained of the different
physical features and of the aborigines and their modes of life; amongst
them being views of rock paintings similar to the mysterious scenes
noticed by Grey during his first expedition to the Glenelg River.

[Illustration. Aboriginal Rock Painting on the Glenelg River. From a
photograph by F.S. Brockman.]

The party left Wyndham on Cambridge Gulf and proceeded first southwards
and then to the westward to the Charnley River, which had been discovered
by Frank Hann. The tributary waters of the Glenelg and Prince Regent
Rivers, and the tidal rivers that flow into Collier and Doubtful Bays
were also visited, and Brockman traced the Roe River from its source to
its outflow in Prince Frederick Harbour. The Moran River was discovered,
and its whole course traced to the mouth in the same inlet. The head
waters of the King Edward River were discovered at the watershed; and
this river was again met lower down and its course traced to its exit.
Portions of the shores of Admiralty Gulf, Vansittart, and Napier Broome
Bay were closely examined with a view to selecting a suitable port for
the district. The most important practical result of the expedition was
the discovery of an area of six million acres of basaltic pastoral
country covered with blue grass, Mitchell and kangaroo grasses, and many
varieties of what is known as top feed. No auriferous country was found,
but some fine specimens of the baobab tree were seen, some of them
averaging fifty feet in diameter.

[Illustration. Typical Australian Explorers of the early Twentieth
Century.]

We have now turned the last page of the story of those bold spirits who
played no mean part in the making of Australasia by exploring the
continent. For nearly a century and a quarter the white man had been
restlessly searching out and traversing every square mile of the land,
and now, at the beginning of the twentieth century, his work is finished.
And throughout the long struggle it had ever been a stubborn conflict
between the explorer and the inert forces of Nature. Through the weary
toilsome years of arduous discovery, Man and Nature had seldom marched
side by side as friends and allies. When Nature posed as the explorer's
friend and guide, it was often only to lure him on with a smiling face to
his doom. From the days when the soldier of King George the Third went
forth with his firelock on his shoulder, computing the distance he
covered by wearily counting the number of paces he trudged, to the day
when the modern adventurer aloft on his camel eagerly scans the horizon
of the red desert in search of the distant smoke of a native fire, and
then patiently tracks the naked denizen of the wilderness to his hoarded
rock-hole or scanty spring, the explorer has ever had to fight the battle
of discovery unaided by Nature. The aborigines generally either feigned
ignorance of the nature of the country, or gave only false clues and
misguiding directions. Even the birds and animals of the untrodden
regions seemed to resent the advance of civilization, and to delight in
leading the footsteps of the white intruder astray. Hence it was by slow
degrees, by careful study of the work of his predecessors in the field,
and often by heeding the warning conveyed in their unhappy fate, that the
Australian explorer added to the sum of knowledge of his country, and
step by step unveiled the hidden mysteries of the continent.


INDEX OF NAMES OF PERSONS.

Andrews.
Ashton.
Austin.

Babbage.
Bagot, Walter.
Baines.
Baker.
Bannister.
Barallier.
Barclay, H.V.
Barker, Captain.
Barrett.
Bass.
Baxter.
Beckler, Dr. H.
Becker, Dr. L.
Bedart.
Berry, Alex.
Binney.
Black, William.
Bladen, F.M.
Bland.
Blaxland.
Bonney.
Boyd, Thomas.
Bourne.
Bowen, Governor.
Breardon.
Brahe.
Briggs.
Brisbane, Governor.
Brockman.
Brown, Kenneth.
Brown, Maitland.
Browne, Dr.
Buchanan, N.
Bunbury.
Burgess.
Burke.

Calvert (Leichhardt).
Calvert.
Cameron.
Campbell (South Australia).
Campbell.
Carmichael, S.
Carnegie, D.W.
Carpenter.
Carr-Boyd.
Carron.
Cayley.
Clarke, A.W.B.
Clarke (The Barber).
Classen.
Clayton.
Collie, Alex.
Collins, Captain.
Cowderoy.
Cox.
Crossland.
Cunningham.
Cunningham, Allan.
Cunningham, Richard.
Currie, Captain.

Dale, Ensign.
Dalrymple.
Darling, Governor.
Davis, R.N.
Dawes, Lieutenant.
Delisser.
Dempster.
Dixon.
Dobson, Captain.
Douglas.
Dunn.
Dutton.

Ebden.
Elder, Sir Thomas.
Elsey, J.R.
Eulah.
Evans, G.W.
Eyre.

Farmer, Charles.
Favenc, Ernest.
Finch.
Finnegan.
Fitzgerald, Governor.
Flinders.
Flood.
Forrest, Alexander.
Forrest, Sir John.
Fraser.
Fraser, Charles.
Freeling.
Fremantle.
Frome, Captain.

Gardiner.
Gibbu, Jimmy.
Gibson, Alfred.
Gilbert.
Giles.
Gipps, Governor.
Gosse, W.C.
Goyder.
Grant, Lieutenant J.
Grant, Harper, and Anderson.
Gray.
Gregory, A.C.
Gregory, Frank.
Gregory, H.C.
Grey, Sir G.

Hack, Stephen.
Hack.
Hamilton.
Hann, Frank.
Hann, William.
Harding.
Hardwicke.
Harris, J.
Harris, Dr.
Harris (Babbage).
Hart, Captain.
Hawdon, Joseph.
Hawker.
Hawson, Captain.
Hedley, G.
Helpman, Lieutenant.
Hely, Hovenden.
Hentig.
Henty.
Hergott.
Heywood.
Hindmarsh, Governor.
Hodgkinson.
Hopkinson.
Horrocks.
House.
Hovell, Captain.
Howitt.
Hughes, Walter.
Hughes.
Hulkes.
Hume, H.
Hume, K.
Hunter, Captain.

Irby.

Jacky-Jacky.
Jardine, Alec.
Jardine, Frank.
Jardine, John.
Johns, Adam.
Johnson.
Johnston, Captain.
Jones, G.L.

Kekwick.
Kelly.
Kennedy, E.B.
King (Burke and Wills).
King, Governor.
King, Lieutenant P.P.
King, Private.
Kyte, Ambrose.

Landells, G.J.
Landsborough, W.
Lang.
Langbourne.
Larmer.
Lawson, Lieutenant W.
Leech.
Leichhardt.
Leslie, P.
Lewis.
Light, Colonel.
Lindesay, Sir P.
Lindsay, David.
Lockyer.
Logan, Captain.
Luff.
Lukin, Gresley.
Lushington, Lieutenant.
Lynd, R.

MacLeary, G.
Macmanee.
MacPhee.
MacPherson, R.
Macquarie, Governor.
Maitland.
Mann, J.F.
Marsh, James.
Massie.
Matthews.
McKinlay.
McMillan, Angas.
Meehan.
Meekleham.
Miller.
Mills, W.W.
Mitchell, Commissioner.
Mitchell, Sir Thomas.
Mitchell (Kennedy's expedition).
Moore.
Mueller, Baron von.
Mulcay.
Mulholland.
Murray, Sir G.
Myalls.

Neilson and Williams.
Niblett.
Nicholson, Trooper.
Nicholson, William.

Oakden.
O'Donnell.
Ord.
Ovens, Major.
Overlanders.
Oxley.

Palmer.
Pamphlet.
Parry.
Parsons.
Patterson.
Patton.
Peron.
Phillip, Governor.
Piesse.
Poole.
Preston, Lieutenant.
Prout.
Purcell.

Robinson.
Robinson (Giles).
Roe.
Roper.
Rossitur, Captain.
Rudall.
Russell, Stuart.

Saunders, P.
Scarr, F.
Scott.
Scrutton.
Scully, Captain.
Smith, William.
Smith (Grey).
Somer.
Stanley, Captain.
Stanley, Lord.
Stansmore.
Stapylton.
Stephenson, W.
Stirling.
Stock.
Stockdale, H.
Stone.
Stokes, Captain.
Strzelecki, Count.
Stuart.
Sturt, Captain.
Swinden.

Tate.
Taylor (geologist).
Taylor.
Tench, Captain.
Thompson.
Thring.
Throsby.
Tietkins, W.H.
Tommy (Giles).
Trigg, S.

Uniacke.

Vallack.
Vancouver.

Walcott.
Walker, Dr.
Walker, Frederick.
Wall.
Wannon, R.
Warburton, Major.
Warburton, Richard.
Warner.
Warrigals.
Welch.
Wentworth, W.C.
White, Surgeon.
Wickham, Captain.
Wild, Joseph.
Wells, L.A.
Wells, C.F.
Wills.
Wilson, Dr. J.B.
Wilson, J.S.
Windich, Tommy.
Wood, Charles.
Worgan, Surgeon.
Wright.
Wylie.

Young.

Zouch, Lieutenant.


INDEX OF PLACE NAMES.

Abundance, Mount.
Adder Waterholes.
Adelaide.
Adelaide River.
Admiralty Gulf.
Albany.
Albany Pass.
Albany, Port.
Alberga River.
Albert River.
Albury.
Alexander Springs.
Alexandria Lake.
Alfred and Marie Range.
Alice Springs.
Alps, Australian.
Amadeus, Lake.
Anson Bay.
Anthony Lagoon.
Arbuthnot Range.
Archer River.
Arden, Mount.
Arnhem's Land.
Arthur River.
Ashburton Range.
Ashburton River.
Attack Creek.
Augusta, Lake.
Augusta, Port.
Augustus, Mount.
Australia Felix.
Australian Alps.
Australian Bight.
Australian Sea (inland).
Avoca River.
Ayer's Rock.

Ballone River.
Barcoo River.
Barlee, Lake.
Barrier Range.
Batavia River.
Bathurst.
Bathurst's Falls.
Bathurst, Lake.
Beagle Bay.
Becket's Cataract.
Beltana.
Belyando River.
Benson, Mount.
Bernier Island.
Berimma.
Birdum.
Blackheath.
Blackwood River.
Blanche, Lake.
Blaxland, Mount.
Blue Mud Bay.
Blue Mountains.
Bogan River.
Bolgart Springs.
Bonney, Lake.
Bonython Range.
Boundary Dam.
Bourke.
Bowen, Port.
Bowen River.
Boyne River.
Braeside.
Brinkley Bluff.
Brisbane River.
Broadsound.
Brodie's Camp.
Brown, Lake.
Brown, Mount.
Broken Bay.
Bruce, Mount.
Buchan River.
Buchanan's Creek.
Buchanan Creek.
Bulloo.
Burdekin River.
Buree.
Burt's Creek.

Caermarthen Hills.
Caledonia Australis.
Cambridge Gulf.
Campbell River.
Canning Downs.
Carnarvon Range.
Careening Bay.
Carpentaria Downs.
Carpentaria, Gulf.
Cassini Island.
Castlereagh River.
Cecil Plains.
Central Mount Stuart (Sturt).
Chambers's Creek.
Chambers Pillar.
Chambers River.
Charlotte Waters.
Charnley River.
Chauvel's Station.
Claude River.
Cloncurry River.
Cockburn Sound.
Coen River.
Cogoon River.
Collier Bay.
Comet Creek.
Condamine River.
Coolgardie.
Cooper's Creek.
Corella Lagoon.
Cowcowing.
Cox River.
Cresswell Creek.
Culgoa, River.
Cunningham's Gap.
Curtis, Port.

Daly, River.
Daly Waters Creek.
Dampier's Land.
Darling Downs.
Darling River.
Darlot, Lake.
Davenport Range.
Dawson River.
Deception, Mount.
De Grey River.
Denison, Port.
Denmark River.
Depot Glen.
Derby.
Diamantina River.
Dorre Island.
Doubtful Bay.
Douglas Creek.
Doyle's Well.
Dumaresque River.

East Alligator River.
Einnesleigh River.
Elder Creek.
Elizabeth, Lake.
Elsey Creek.
Empress Spring.
Emu Island.
Endeavour River.
Escape River.
Escape Cliffs.
Esperance Bay.
Essington, Port.
Eucla.
Euroomba.
Eva Springs.
Everard River.
Exmouth, Mount.
Eyre, Lake.
Eyre's Creek.

Farmer, Mount.
Finke Creek.
Finke, Mount.
Fish River.
Fitzgerald River.
Fitzmaurice River.
Fitzroy River.
Fletcher's Creek.
Flinders Range.
Flinders River.
Flood's Creek.
Flying Fox Creek.
Fortescue River.
Fossilbrook.
Fowler's Bay.
Frances, Lake.
Fraser's Range.
Fremantle.
Freeling, Mount.
Frew's Pond.
Frew River.
Frome, Lake.

Gairdner Lake.
Gantheaume Bay.
Gascoyne River.
Gawler Range.
Geelong.
Geographe Bay.
George the Fourth, Port.
George, Lake.
Georgina River.
Geraldine.
Gibson's Desert.
Gibson's Station.
Gilbert River.
Gippsland.
Glenelg River.
Gnamnoi River.
Godfrey's Tank.
Goulburn Plains.
Goulburn River.
Grampian Mountains.
Great Australian Desert.
Gregory, Lake (Eyre).
Gregory River.
Grey, Fort.
Grose River.
Gundagai.
Gwydir River.

Hale River.
Hall's Creek.
Hamilton Springs.
Hampton Range.
Hammersley Range.
Hann River.
Hanover Bay.
Hanson Bluff.
Hardey River.
Harris, Mount.
Hastings River.
Hawdon, Lake.
Hawkesbury River.
Hawkesbury Vale.
Hay River.
Haystack, Mount.
Helena Spring.
Hopeless, Mount.
Herbert River.
Hergott Springs.
Hermit Range.
Hovell River.
Hugh River.
Hume River.
Hunter River.

Illawara, Lake.
Impey River.
Inland Sea.
Irwin River.
Isaacs River.
Israelite Bay.

Jarvis Bay.
Jervois Ranges.
Jimbour.
Joanna Springs.

Kalgan River.
Karaula River (Darling).
Katherine Creek.
Katherine Station.
Kenneth, Mount.
Kilgour River.
Kimberley.
Kindur River.
King Edward River.
King George's Sound.
King Leopold Range.
Kintore Range.
Kojunup River.

Lacepede Bay.
Lachlan River.
Lagoons, Valley of.
Laidley's Ponds.
Lansdowne Hills.
La Trobe River.
Laverton.
Leichhardt River.
Leisler, Mount.
Leschenhault River.
Limestone.
Lincoln, Port.
Lindsay, Mount.
Lindsay River.
Little, Mount.
Liverpool Plains.
Liverpool Range.
Loddon, River.
Lofty, Mount.
Logan Vale.
Lyons River.

Macalister River.
Macarthur River.
MacDonnell Range.
Macdonald, Lake.
Macedon, Mount.
Mackenzie River.
Macquarie, Port.
Macquarie River.
Maneroo.
Manning River.
Maranoa River.
Margaret River.
Margaret, Mount.
Marshall River.
Marryat River.
Mary, Lake.
Massacre, Lake.
McConnel, Mount.
McIntyre's Brook.
McKinlay's Range.
McPherson's Station.
Menindie.
Midway Well.
Mitchell River.
Monaro.
Monger, Mount.
Moran River.
Moreton Bay.
Moore, Lake.
Moore River.
Moorundi.
Muckadilla Creek.
Mueller, Fort.
Mueller Creek.
Muirhead, Mount.
Mulligan River.
Murchison River.
Murray River.
Murrumbidgee River.
Musgrove Range.

Namoi River.
Napier Broome Bay.
Narran River.
Nattai.
Naturaliste Creek.
Neale Creek.
Nepean River.
Newcastle Waters.
New Year's Creek.
New Zealand.
Nicholson River.
Nicholson Plains.
Nickol Bay.
Nive River.
Nogoa River.
Norfolk Island.
Norman River.
Normanby River.
Northumberland Creek.
Nundawar Range.

Oakover River.
Oaldabinna.
Olga, Mount.
Oodnadatta.
Ord River.
Ovens River.
Oxley's Tableland.

Pallinup River.
Palmer River.
Pandora's Pass.
Peak Downs.
Peak Station.
Pearce Point.
Peel's Plains.
Peel Range.
Peel River.
Pernatty.
Perth.
Phillip Island.
Phillips Creek.
Phillips River.
Planet Creek.
Plenty River.
Poole, Mount.
Portland Bay.
Powell's Creek.
Prince Frederick Harbour.
Prince Regent's River.
Princess Charlotte Bay.
Pudding Pan Hill.
Pumice Stone River.

Queen Charlotte Vale.

Raffles Bay.
Ragged, Mount.
Ranken River.
Rannes.
Rawlinson Ranges.
Red Hill.
Remarkable, Mount.
Richmond Hill.
Riley, Mount.
Rockhampton.
Rockingham Bay.
Roe River.
Roebourne.
Roebuck Bay.
Roper River.
Rossitur Vale.
Rudall River.
Russell Range.

Samson, Mount.
Saxby River.
Seaview, Mount.
Segenhoe.
Separation Well.
Serle, Mount.
Shark's Bay.
Shaw River.
Shelburne Bay.
Sherlock River.
Shoalhaven River.
Sir John Range.
Somerset.
South Australia.
Spencer's Gulf.
Squires, Mount.
Stansmore Range.
Staaten River.
Stephens, Port.
Stevenson Creek.
St. George's Range.
St. George's Rocks.
St. Vincent's Gulf.
Stony Desert.
Strangways Creek.
Strathalbyn.
Streaky Bay.
Strzelecki Creek.
Sturt's Creek.
Sutton River.
Swan Hill.
Swan River.
Swinden's Country.

Tambo River.
Tate River.
Tench River.
Tennant's Creek.
Termination Hill.
Thistle Cove.
Thompson's Station.
Thomson River.
Timor.
Torrens, Lake.
Tumut River.
Tweed River.

Vansittart Bay.
Victoria (Port Essington).
Victoria.
Victoria, Lake.
Victoria River, (Barcoo).
Victoria Spring.

Walsh River.
Warburton Creek.
Warburton Desert.
Warburton Range.
Warning, Mount.
Warragamba River.
Warrego River.
Waterloo Wells.
Weathered Hill.
Welbundinum.
Welcome, Mount.
Weld Springs.
Welbing.
Wellington Valley.
Western Port.
Weymouth Bay.
Whaby's Station.
Williams River.
Williora, River.
Williorara.
Wimmera River.
Windich Springs.
Wingillpin.
Woodhouse Lagoon.
Woolloomooloo.
Wyndham.

Yarraging.
Yass Plains.
Yilgarn.
York, Cape.
York, Mount.
Yorke Peninsula.
Youldeh.
Yuin.
Yule River.

Zamia Creek.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Explorers of Australia and their
Life-work, by Ernest Favenc

*** 