Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia, Complete

C >> Charles Sturt >> Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia, Complete

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While, however, the country to the westward had so much to recommend it,
the hills to our left became extremely bare. It was evident that the right
was the sheltered side of the valley. The few trees on the opposite side
bent over to the N.E., as if under the influence of some prevailing wind.

ADVERSE GALES.

We experienced at this time a succession of gales from the S.W., against
which we, on several occasions, found it useless to contend: the waves on
the river being heavy and short; and the boat, driving her prow into them,
sent the spray over us and soon wet us through. Indeed, it is difficult
for the reader to imagine the heavy swell that rolled up the river, which
had increased in breadth to the third of a mile, and in the length of its
reaches to eight or ten. I was satisfied that we were not only navigating
this river at a particularly stormy, perhaps THE stormy, season; but also,
that the influence of the S.W. wind is felt even as far in the interior as
to the supposed Darling; in consequence of the uniform build of the huts,
and the circumstance of their not only facing the N.E., but also being
almost invariably erected under the lee of some bush.

The weather, under the influence of the wind we experienced, was cool and
pleasant, although the thermometer stood at a medium height of 86 degrees;
but we found it very distressing to pull against the heavy breezes that
swept up the valley, and bent the reeds so as almost to make them kiss the
stream.

We communicated on the 6th and 7th with several large tribes of natives,
whose manners were on the whole quiet and inoffensive. They distinctly
informed us, that we were fast approaching the sea, and, from what I could
understand, we were nearer to it than the coast line of Encounter Bay made
us. We had placed sticks to ascertain if there was any rise or fall of
tide, but the troubled state of the river prevented our experiments from
being satisfactory. By selecting a place, however, that was sheltered from
the effects of the wind, we ascertained that there was an apparent rise
of about eight inches.

OBLIGED TO TAKE REPOSE.

It blew a heavy gale during the whole of the 7th; and we laboured in vain
at the oar. The gusts that swept the bosom of the water, and the swell
they caused, turned the boat from her course, and prevented us from making
an inch of way. The men were quite exhausted, and, as they had conducted
themselves so well, and had been so patient, I felt myself obliged to
grant them every indulgence consistent with our safety. However precarious
our situation, it would have been vain, with our exhausted strength, to
have contended against the elements. We, therefore, pulled in to the left
bank of the river, and pitched our tents on a little rising ground beyond
the reeds that lined it.

CHRONOMETER BROKEN.

I had been suffering very much front tooth-ache for the last three or four
days, and this day felt the most violent pain from the wind. I was not,
therefore, sorry to get under even the poor shelter our tents afforded.
M'Leay, observing that I was in considerable pain, undertook to wind up
the chronometer; but, not understanding or knowing the instrument, he
unfortunately broke the spring. I shall not forget the anxiety he
expressed, and the regret he felt on the occasion; nor do I think M'Leay
recovered the shock this unlucky accident gave him for two or three days,
or until the novelty of other scenes drove it from his recollection.

We landed close to the haunt of a small tribe of natives, who came to us
with the most perfect confidence, and assisted the men in their
occupations. They were cleaner and more healthy than any tribe we had
seen; and were extremely cheerful, although reserved in some respects.
As a mark of more than usual cleanliness, the women had mats of oval
shape, upon which they sat, made, apparently, of rushes. There was a
young girl among them of a most cheerful disposition. She was about
eighteen, was well made, and really pretty. This girl was married to an
elderly man who had broken his leg, which having united in a bent shape,
the limb was almost useless. I really believe the girl thought we could
cure her husband, from her importunate manner to us. I regretted that I
could do nothing for the man, but to show that I was not inattentive to
her entreaties, I gave him a pair of trousers, and desired Fraser to put
them upon him; but the poor fellow cut so awkward an appearance in them,
that his wife became quite distressed, and Fraser was obliged speedily
to disencumber him from them again.

We could not gain any satisfactory information, as to the termination of
the river, from these people. It was evident that some change was at hand;
but what it was we could not ascertain.

APPEARANCE OF SOME APPROACHING CHANGE.

On the morning of the 9th, we left our fair friend and her lame husband,
and proceeded down the river. The wind had moderated, although it still
blew fresh. We ascended every height as we went along, but could not see
any new feature in the country. Our view to the eastward was very
confined; to the westward the interior was low and dark, and was backed in
the distance by lofty ranges, parallel to which we had been running for
some days. The right bank of the valley was beautifully undulated, but the
left was bleak and bare. The valley had a breadth of from three to four
miles, and the flats were more extensive under the former than under the
latter. They were scarcely two feet above the level of the water, and were
densely covered with reeds. As there was no mark upon the reeds to
indicate the height to which the floods rose, I cannot think that these
flats are ever wholly laid under water; if they are, it cannot be to any
depth: at all events a few small drains would effectually prevent
inundation. The soil upon the hills continued to be much mixed with sand,
and the prevailing trees were cypress and box. Among the minor shrubs and
grass, many common to the east coasts were noticed; and although the bold
cliffs had ceased, the basis of the country still continued of the fossil
formation. At a turn of the stream hereabouts, however, a solitary rock of
coarse red granite rose above the waters, and formed an island in its
centre; but only in this one place was it visible. The rock was composed
principally of quartz and feldspar.

A little below it, we found a large tribe anxiously awaiting our arrival.
They crowded to the margin of the river with great eagerness, and evinced
more surprise at our appearance than any tribe we had seen during the
journey; but we left them very soon, notwithstanding that they importuned
us much to stay.

After pulling a mile or two, we found a clear horizon before us to the
south. The hills still continued upon our left, but we could not see any
elevation over the expanse of reeds to our right. The river inclined to
the left, and swept the base of the hills that still continued on that
side. I consequently landed once more to survey the country.

TERMINATION OF THE MURRAY IN A LARGE LAKE.

I still retained a strong impression on my mind that some change was at
hand, and on this occasion, I was not disappointed; but the view was one
for which I was not altogether prepared. We had, at length, arrived at the
termination of the Murray. Immediately below me was a beautiful lake,
which appeared to be a fitting reservoir for the noble stream that had led
us to it; and which was now ruffled by the breeze that swept over it.
The ranges were more distinctly visible, stretching from south to north,
and were certainly distant forty miles. They had a regular unbroken
outline; declining gradually to the south, but terminating abruptly at a
lofty mountain northerly. I had no doubt on my mind of this being the
Mount Lofty of Captain Flinders; or that the range was that immediately to
the eastward of St. Vincent's Gulf--Since the accident to the chronometer,
we had not made any westing, so that we knew our position as nearly as
possible. Between us and the ranges a beautiful promontory shot into the
lake, being a continuation of the right bank of the Murray. Over this
promontory the waters stretched to the base of the ranges, and formed an
extensive bay. To the N.W. the country was exceedingly low, but distant
peaks were just visible over it. To the S.W. a bold headland showed
itself; beyond which, to the westward, there was a clear and open sea
visible, through a strait formed by this headland and a point projecting
from the opposite shore. To the E. and S.E. the country was low, excepting
the left shore of the lake, which was backed by some minor elevations,
crowned with cypresses. Even while gazing on this fine scene, I could not
but regret that the Murray had thus terminated; for I immediately foresaw
that, in all probability, we should be disappointed in finding any
practicable communication between the lake and the ocean, as it was
evident that the former was not much influenced by tides. The wind had
again increased; it still blew fresh from the S.W. and a heavy sea was
rolling direct into the mouth of the river. I hoped, notwithstanding, that
we should have been enabled to make sail, for which reason we entered the
lake about 2 p.m. The natives had kindled a large fire on a distant point
between us and the further headland, and to gain this point our efforts
were now directed. The waves were, however, too strong, and we were
obliged to make for the eastern shore, until such time as the weather
should moderate. We pitched our tents on a low track of land that
stretched away seemingly for many miles directly behind us to the
eastward. It was of the richest soil, being a black vegetable deposit,
and although now high above the influence, the lake had, it was evident,
once formed a part of its bed. The appearance of the country altogether
encouraged M'Leay and myself to walk out, in order to examine it from some
hills a little to the S.E. of the camp. From them we observed that the
flat extended over about fifty miles, and was bounded by the elevations
that continued easterly from the left bank of the Murray to the north,
and by a line of rising-ground to the south. The whole was lightly wooded,
and covered with grass. The season must have been unusually dry, judging
from the general appearance of the vegetation, and from the circumstance
of the lagoons in the interior being wholly exhausted.

Thirty-three days had now passed over our heads since we left the depot
upon the Morumbidgee, twenty-six of which had been passed upon the Murray.
We had, at length, arrived at the grand reservoir of those waters whose
course and fate had previously been involved in such obscurity. It
remained for us to ascertain whether the extensive sheet of water upon
whose bosom we had embarked, had any practicable communication with the
ocean, and whether the country in the neighbourhood of the coast
corresponded with that immediately behind our camp, or kept up its sandy
and sterile character to the very verge of the sea. As I have already
said, my hopes on the first of these points were considerably damped, but
I could not help anticipating a favourable change in the latter, since its
features had so entirely changed.

DETAINED BY THE WIND.

The greatest difficulty against which we had at present to contend was the
wind; and I dreaded the exertion it would call for, to make head against
it; for the men were so much reduced that I felt convinced they were
inadequate to any violent or prolonged effort. It still blew fresh at
8 p.m., but at that time it began to moderate. It may be imagined that I
listened to its subdued gusts with extreme anxiety. It did not wholly
abate until after 2 a.m., when it gradually declined, and about 3 a light
breeze sprung up from the N. E.

We had again placed sticks to ascertain with more precision the rise of
tide, and found it to be the same as in the river. In the stillness of the
night too we thought we heard the roaring of the sea, but I was myself
uncertain upon the point, as the wind might have caused the sound.

From the top of the hill from which we had obtained our first view of the
lake, I observed the waves breaking upon the distant headland, and
enveloping the cliff in spray; so that, independent of the clearness of
the horizon beyond it, I was further led to conclude that there existed a
great expanse of water to the S.W.; and, as that had been the direction
taken by the river, I thought it probable that by steering at once to the
S.W. down the lake, I should hit the outlet. I, consequently, resolved to
gain the southern extremity of the lake, as that at which it was natural
to expect a communication with the ocean would be found.

GEOLOGICAL FORMATION.

At 4 we had a moderate breeze, and it promised to strengthen; we lost no
time therefore in embarking, and with a flowing sheet stretched over to
the W.S.W., and ran along the promontory formed by the right bank of the
Murray. We passed close under its extreme point at nine. The hills had
gradually declined, and we found the point to be a flat, elevated about
thirty feet above the lake. It was separated from the promontory by a
small channel that was choked up with reeds, so that it is more than
probable that the point is insulated at certain periods; whilst in its
stratification it resembled the first cliffs I have described that were
passed below the Darling. It is a remarkable fact in the geology of the
Murray, that such should be the case; and that the formation at each
extremity of the great bank or bed of fossils should be the same.
Thus far, the waters of the lake had continued sweet; but on filling a can
when we were abreast of this point, it was found that they were quite
unpalatable, to say the least of them. The transition from fresh to salt
water was almost immediate, and it was fortunate we made the discovery in
sufficient time to prevent our losing ground. But, as it was, we filled
our casks, and stood on, without for a moment altering our course.

PASSAGE ACROSS THE LAKE--ITS SHALLOWNESS.

It is difficult to give a just description of our passage across the lake.
The boisterous weather we had had seemed to have blown over. A cool and
refreshing breeze was carrying us on at between four and five knots an
hour, and the heavens above us were without a cloud. It almost appeared as
if nature had resisted us in order to try our perseverance, and that she
had yielded in pity to our efforts. The men, relieved for a time from the
oar, stretched themselves at their length in the boat, and commented on
the scenery around them, or ventured their opinions as to that which was
before them. Up to this moment their conduct had been most exemplary; not
a murmur had escaped from them, and they filled the water-casks with the
utmost cheerfulness, even whilst tasting the disagreeable beverage they
would most probably have to subsist on for the next three or four days.

As soon as we had well opened the point, we had a full view of the
splendid bay that, commencing at the western most of the central points,
swept in a beautiful curve under the ranges. No land was visible to the
W.N.W. or to the S.S.W.: in both these quarters the lake was as open as
the ocean. It appeared, therefore, that the land intermediate was an
island. To the north the country was extremely low, and as we increased
our distance from it we lost sight of it altogether. At noon we were
nearly abreast of the eastern headland, or in the centre of the strait to
which I have alluded. At this time there was an open sea from W.N.W. to
N. by E. A meridian altitude gave our latitude 35 degrees 25 minutes.
The land to our left was bold and precipitous; that to the right was low
and wooded; and there was evidently a considerable space between the
shores of the lake and the base of the ranges. The country to the eastward
was hidden from us by the line of cliffs, beyond which from E.S.E. to
W.S.W. there was an open sea. We had kept the lead going from the first,
and I was surprised at the extreme shallowness of the lake in every part,
as we never had six feet upon the line. Its bottom was one of black mud,
and weeds of enormous length were floating on its surface, detached by the
late gales, and which, from the shallowness of the lake, got constantly
entangled with our rudder.

We tried to land on the eastern point, but found the water too shallow,
and were obliged to try the western shore. In passing close under the
head, we observed several natives upon it, who kindled a large fire as
soon as they saw they were noticed, which was answered from every point;
for, in less than ten minutes afterwards, we counted no fewer than
fourteen different fires, the greater number of which were on the side of
the ranges.

SHORES OF THE LAKE.

As we were standing across from one shore to the other, our attention was
drawn to a most singular object. It started suddenly up, as above the
waters to the south, and strikingly resembled an isolated castle. Behind
it, a dense column of smoke rose into the sky, and the effect was most
remarkable. On a nearer approach, the phantom disappeared and a clear and
open sea again presented itself to our view. The fact was, that the
refractive power upon the coast had elevated the sand-hillocks above their
true position, since we satisfactorily ascertained that they alone
separated the lake from the ocean, and that they alone could have produced
the semblance we noticed. It is a singular fact, that this very hillock
was the one which Capt. Barker ascended whilst carrying on the survey of
the south coast, and immediately previous to his tragical death.

It was not without difficulty that we succeeded in landing on the western
shore; but we did, at length, succeed, and prepared our dinners. The shore
was low, but above the reach of all floods; the soil was rich, and
superficially sandy. It was covered with high grasses, and abounded in
kangaroos; within the space of a few yards we found five or six, but they
were immediately lost to us and to the dogs in the luxuriance of the
vegetation amidst which they were feeding.

As soon as we had finished our meal, we once more embarked, and stood
along the shore to the S.W., but the lake was so shoal, that I was every
moment apprehensive we should ground. I ran across, therefore, to the
south, towards a low flat that had just appeared above the line of the
horizon, in hope that, in sounding, we should have found the channel, but
there either was none, or else it was so narrow that we passed over it
between the heaves of the lead. At this time, the western shore was quite
distinct, and the scenery was beautiful.

The flat we were approaching was a mud-flat, and, from its appearance, the
tide was certainly at the ebb. We observed some cradles, or wicker frames,
placed far below high water-mark, that were each guarded by two natives,
who threatened us violently as we approached. In running along the land,
the stench from them plainly indicated what they were which these poor
creatures were so anxiously watching.

We steered a S.W. course, towards some low and wooded hills, passing a
rocky island, and found that we had struck the mouth of a channel running
to the W.S.W. It was about half-a-mile wide, was bounded to the right by
some open flat ground, and to the left by a line of hills of about sixty
or seventy feet in elevation, partly open and partly covered with
beefwood.

WARLIKE DEMEANOUR OF THE NATIVES.

Upon the first of these hills, we observed a large body of natives, who
set up the most terrific yells as we approached. They were fully equipped
for battle and, as we neared the shore, came down to meet us with the most
violent threats. I wished much to communicate with them, and, not without
hopes of quieting them, stood right in with the intention of landing.
I observed, however, that if I did so, I should have to protect myself.
I hauled a little off, and endeavoured, by holding up a branch and a
tomahawk, to gain their confidence, but they were not to be won over by
my show of pacification. An elderly man walked close to the water's edge
unarmed, and, evidently, directed the others. He was followed by seven or
eight of the most daring, who crept into the reeds, with their spears
shipped to throw at us. I, therefore, took up my gun to return their
salute. It then appeared that they were perfectly aware of the weapon I
carried, for the moment they saw it, they dashed out of their hiding place
and retreated to the main body; but the old man, after saying something
to them, walked steadily on, and I, on my part, laid my firelock down
again.

LOVELY EVENING.

It was now near sunset; and one of the most lovely evenings I had ever
seen. The sun's radiance was yet upon the mountains, but all lower objects
were in shade. The banks of the channel, with the trees and the rocks,
were reflected in the tranquil waters, whose surface was unruffled save by
the thousands of wild fowl that rose before us, and made a noise as of a
multitude clapping hands, in their clumsy efforts to rise from the waters.
Not one of them allowed us to get within shot.

We proceeded about a mile below the hill on which the natives were posted;
some few still following us with violent threats. We landed, however, on a
flat, bounded all round by the continuation of the hills. It was an
admirable position, for, in the centre of it, we could not be taken by
surprise, and, on the other hand, we gave the natives an opportunity of
communicating with us if they would. The full moon rose as we were forming
the camp, and, notwithstanding our vicinity to so noisy a host, the
silence of death was around us, or the stillness of the night was only
broken by the roar of the ocean, now too near to be mistaken for wind,
or by the silvery and melancholy note of the black swans as they passed
over us, to seek for food, no doubt, among the slimy weeds at the head of
the lake. We had been quite delighted with the beauty of the channel,
which was rather more than half-a-mile in width. Numberless mounds, that
seemed to invite civilised man to erect his dwelling upon them, presented
themselves to our view. The country round them was open, yet ornamentally
wooded, and rocks and trees hung or drooped over the waters.

EXTENT OF THE LAKE.

We had in one day gained a position I once feared it would have cost us
infinite labour to have measured. Indeed, had we been obliged to pull
across the lake, unless during a calm, I am convinced the men would have
been wholly exhausted. We had to thank a kind Providence that such was not
the case, since it had extended its mercy to us at so critical a moment.
We had indeed need of all the little strength we had remaining, and could
ill have thrown it away on such an effort as this would have required.
I calculated that we could not have run less than forty-five miles during
the day, a distance that, together with the eight miles we had advanced
the evening previously, would give the length of the lake at fifty-three
miles.

We had approached to within twelve miles of the ranges, but had not gained
their southern extremity. From the camp, Mount Barker bore nearly north.
The ranges appeared to run north and south to our position, and then to
bend away to the S.S.W., gradually declining to that point, which I
doubted not terminated in Cape Jervis. The natives kept aloof during the
night, nor did the dogs by a single growl intimate that any had ventured
to approach us. The sound of the surf came gratefully to our ears, for it
told us we were near the goal for which we had so anxiously pushed, and we
all of us promised ourselves a view of the boundless ocean on the morrow.

CHANNEL TO THE SEA--ITS SHALLOWNESS.

As the morning dawned, we saw that the natives had thrown an out-post of
sixteen men across the channel, who were watching our motions; but none
showed themselves on the hills behind us, or on any part of the south
shore. We embarked as soon as we had breakfasted, A fresh breeze was
blowing from the N.E. which took us rapidly down the channel, and our
prospects appeared to be as cheering as the day, for just as we were about
to push from the shore, a seal rose close to the boat, which we all
regarded as a favourable omen. We were, however, shortly stopped by
shoals; it was in vain that we beat across the channel from one side to
the other; it was a continued shoal, and the deepest water appeared to be
under the left bank. The tide, however, had fallen, and exposed broad
flats, over which it was hopeless, under existing circumstances, to haul
the boat. We again landed on the south side of the channel, patiently to
await the high water.

M'Leay, myself, and Fraser, ascended the hills, and went to the opposite
side to ascertain the course of the channel, for immediately above us it
turned south round the hills. We there found that we were on a narrow
tongue of land. The channel was immediately below us, and continued to the
E.S.E. as far as we could trace it. The hills we were upon, were the sandy
hills that always bound a coast that is low, and were covered with
banksias, casuarina and the grass-tree.

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