Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia, Complete
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Charles Sturt >> Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia, Complete
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To the south of the channel there was a flat, backed by a range of
sand-hummocks, that were covered with low shrubs; and beyond them the sea
was distinctly visible. We could not have been more than two and a half
miles from the beach where we stood.
Notwithstanding the sandy nature of the soil, the fossil formation again
showed itself, not only on these hills, but also on the rocks that were in
the channel.
A little before high water we again embarked. A seal had been observed
playing about, and we augured well from such an omen. The blacks had been
watching us from the opposite shore, and as soon as we moved, rose to keep
abreast of us. With all our efforts we could not avoid the shoals. We
walked up to our knees in mud and water, to find the least variation in
the depth of the water so as to facilitate our exertions, but it was to no
purpose. We were ultimately obliged to drag the boat over the flats; there
were some of them a quarter of a mile in breadth, knee-deep in mud; but at
length got her into deep water again. The turn of the channel was now
before us, and we had a good run for about four or five miles. We had
completed the bend, and the channel now stretched to the E.S.E. At about
nine miles from us there was a bright sand-hill visible, near which the
channel seemed to turn again to the south; and I doubted not that it
terminated there. It was to no purpose, however, that we tried to gain it.
Shoals again closed in upon us on every side. We dragged the boat over
several, and at last got amongst quicksands. I, therefore, directed our
efforts to hauling the boat over to the south side of the channel, as that
on which we could most satisfactorily ascertain our position. After great
labour we succeeded, and, as evening had closed in, lost no time in
pitching the tents.
BEACH OF ENCOUNTER BAY.
While the men were thus employed, I took Fraser with me, and, accompanied
by M'Leay, crossed the sand-hummocks behind us, and descended to the
sea-shore. I found that we had struck the south coast deep in the bight
of Encounter Bay. We had no time for examination, but returned immediately
to the camp, as I intended to give the men an opportunity to go to the
beach. They accordingly went and bathed, and returned not only highly
delighted at this little act of good nature on my part, but loaded with
cockles, a bed of which they had managed to find among the sand. Clayton
had tied one end of his shirt up, and brought a bag full, and amused
himself with boiling cockles all night long.
If I had previously any hopes of being enabled ultimately to push the boat
over the flats that were before us, a view of the channel at low water,
convinced me of the impracticability of any further attempt. The water was
so low that every shoal was exposed, and many stretched directly from one
side of the channel to the other; and, but for the treacherous nature of
the sand-banks, it would not have been difficult to have walked over dry
footed to the opposite side of it. The channel stretched away to the
E.S.E., to a distance of seven or eight miles, when it appeared to turn
south under a small sand-hill, upon which the rays of the sun fell, as it
was sinking behind us.
CURIOUS EFFECT OF REFRACTION.
There was an innumerable flock of wild-fowl arranged in rows along the
sides of the pools left by the tide, and we were again amused by the
singular effect of the refraction upon them, and the grotesque and
distorted forms they exhibited. Swans, pelicans, ducks, and geese, were
mingled together, and, according to their distance from us, presented
different appearances. Some were exceedingly tall and thin, others were
unnaturally broad. Some appeared reversed, or as if they were standing on
their heads, and the slightest motion, particularly the flapping of their
wings, produced a most ridiculous effect. No doubt, the situation and the
state of the atmosphere were favourable to the effect I have described.
The day had been fine, the evening was beautiful,--but it was the
rarefaction of the air immediately playing on the ground, and not the
haze at sunset that caused what I have noticed. It is distinct from
mirage, although it is difficult to point out the difference. The one,
however, distorts, the other conceals objects, and gives them a false
distance. The one is clear, the other is cloudy. The one raises objects
above their true position, the other does not. The one plays about, the
other is steady; but I cannot hope to give a proper idea either of mirage
or refraction so satisfactorily as I could wish. Many travellers have
dwelt upon their effects, particularly upon those of the former, but few
have attempted to account for them.
Our situation was one of peculiar excitement and interest. To our right
the thunder of the heavy surf, that almost shook the ground beneath us,
broke with increasing roar upon our ears; to our left the voice of the
natives echoed through the brush, and the size of their fires at the
extremity of the channel, seemed to indicate the alarm our appearance had
occasioned.
CRITICAL SITUATION OF THE PARTY.
While the men were enjoying their cockles, a large kettle of which they
had boiled, M'Leay and I were anxiously employed in examining the state of
our provisions, and in ascertaining what still remained. Flour and tea
were the only articles we had left, so that the task was not a difficult
one. It appeared that we had not sufficient of either to last us to
Pondebadgery, at which place we expected to find supplies; and, taking
every thing into consideration, our circumstances were really critical.
The first view of Encounter Bay had convinced me that no vessel would ever
venture into it at a season when the S.W. winds prevailed. It was
impossible that we could remain upon the coast in expectation of the
relief that I doubted not had been hurried off for us; since
disappointment would have sealed our fate at once. In the deep bight in
which we were, I could not hope that any vessel would approach
sufficiently near to be seen by us. Our only chance of attracting notice
would have been by crossing the Ranges to the Gulf St. Vincent, but the
men had not strength to walk, and I hesitated to divide my party in the
presence of a determined and numerous enemy, who closely watched our
motions. Setting aside the generous feelings that had prompted M'Leay to
participate in every danger with me, and who I am persuaded would have
deeply felt a separation, my anxiety not only on his account, but on
account of the men I might leave in charge of the boat, made me averse to
this measure; the chance of any misfortune to them involving in it the
destruction of our boat and the loss of our provisions. My anxiety of mind
would have rendered me unfit for exertion; yet so desirous was I of
examining the ranges and the country at their base, that I should, had our
passage to the salt water been uninterrupted, have determined on coasting
it homewards, or of steering for Launceston; and most assuredly, with my
present experience, I would rather incur the hazards of so desperate a
step, than contend against all the evils that beset us on out homeward
journey. And the reader may rest assured, I was as much without hopes of
our eventual safety, as I was astonished, at the close of our labours, to
find that they had terminated so happily.
INSPECTION OF THE CHANNEL FROM THE LAKE TO THE OCEAN.
Further exertion on the part of the men being out of the question, I
determined to remain no longer on the coast than to enable me to trace the
channel to its actual junction with the sea, and to ascertain the features
of the coast at that important point. I was reluctant to exhaust the
strength of the men in dragging the boat over the numberless flats that
were before us, and made up my mind to walk along the shore until I should
gain the outlet. I at length arranged that M'Leay, I, and Fraser, should
start on this excursion, at the earliest dawn, leaving Harris and
Hopkinson in charge of the camp; for as we were to go towards the position
of the natives, I thought it improbable they would attack the camp without
my being instantly aware of it.
We had, as I have said, intended starting at the earliest dawn, but the
night was so clear and refreshing, and the moon so bright that we
determined to avail ourselves of both, and accordingly left the tents at
3 a.m. I directed Harris to strike them at 8, and to have every thing in
readiness for our departure at that hour. We then commenced our
excursion, and I led my companions rapidly along the shore of Encounter
Bay, after crossing the sand-hills about a mile below the camp. After a
hasty and distressing walk of about seven miles, we found that the
sand-hills terminated, and a low beach spread before us. The day was just
breaking, and at the distance of a mile from us we saw the sand-hill I
have already had occasion to notice, and at about a quarter of a mile from
its base, we were checked by the channel; which, as I rightly conjectured,
being stopped in its easterly course by some rising ground, the tongue of
land on which the blacks were posted, suddenly turns south, and, striking
this sand-hill, immediately enters the sea; and we noticed, in the bight
under the rising ground, that the natives had lit a chain of small fires.
This was, most probably, a detached party watching our movements, as they
could, from where they were posted, see our camp.
At the time we arrived at the end of the channel, the tide had turned, and
was again setting in. The entrance appeared to me to be somewhat less than
a quarter of a mile in breadth. Under the sand-hill on the off side, the
water is deep and the current strong. No doubt, at high tide, a part of
the low beach we had traversed is covered. The mouth of the channel is
defended by a double line of breakers, amidst which, it would be
dangerous to venture, except in calm and summer weather; and the line of
foam is unbroken from one end of Encounter Bay to the other. Thus were our
fears of the impracticability and inutility of the channel of
communication between the lake and the ocean confirmed.
DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS OF THE RETURN.
I would fain have lingered on my way, to examine, as far as circumstances
would permit, the beautiful country between the lake and the ranges; and
it was with heart-felt sorrow that I yielded to necessity. My men were
indeed very weak from poverty of diet and from great bodily fatigue.
Hopkinson, Mulholland, and Macnamee were miserably reduced. The two
former, especially, had exerted themselves beyond their strength, and
although I am confident they would have obeyed my orders to the last,
I did not feel myself justified, considering the gigantic task we had
before us, to impose additional labour upon them.
It will be borne in mind that our difficulties were just about to
commence, when those of most other travellers have ceased; and that
instead of being assisted by the stream whose course we had followed, we
had now to contend against the united waters of the eastern ranges,
with diminished strength, and, in some measure, with disappointed
feelings.
Under the most favourable circumstances, it was improbable that the men
would be enabled to pull for many days longer in succession; since they
had not rested upon their oars for a single day, if I except our passage
across the lake, from the moment when we started from the depot; nor was
it possible for me to buoy them up with the hope even of a momentary
cessation from labour. We had calculated the time to which our supply of
provisions would last under the most favourable circumstances, and it was
only in the event of our pulling up against the current, day after day,
the same distance we had compassed with the current in our favour, that we
could hope they would last us as long as we continued in the Murray.
But in the event of floods, or any unforeseen delay, in was impossible
to calculate at what moment we might be driven to extremity.
Independent of these casualties, there were other circumstances of peril
to be taken into consideration. As I have already observed, I foresaw
great danger in again running through the natives. I had every reason to
believe that many of the tribes with which we had communicated on
apparently friendly terms, regretted having allowed us to pass unmolested;
nor was I at all satisfied as to the treatment we might receive from them,
when unattended by the envoys who had once or twice controlled their fury.
Our best security, therefore, against the attacks of the natives was
celerity of movement; and the men themselves seemed to be perfectly aware
of the consequences of delay. Our provisions, moreover, being calculated
to last to a certain point only, the slightest accident, the staving-in
of the boat, or the rise of the river, would inevitably be attended with
calamity. To think of reducing our rations of only three quarters of a
pound of flour per diem, was out of the question, or to hope that the men,
with less sustenance than that, would perform the work necessary to ensure
their safety, would have been unreasonable. It was better that our
provisions should hold out to a place from which we might abandon the boat
with some prospect of reaching by an effort a stock station, or the plain
on which Robert Harris was to await our return, than that they should be
consumed before the half of our homeward journey should be accomplished.
Delay, therefore, under our circumstances, would have been imprudent
and unjustifiable.
PATIENCE OF THE MEN--RE-ENTER THE MURRAY.
On the other hand, it was sufficiently evident to me, that the men were
too much exhausted to perform the task that was before them without
assistance, and that it would be necessary both for M'Leay and myself,
to take our share of labour at the oars. The cheerfulness and satisfaction
that my young friend evinced at the opportunity that was thus afforded him
of making himself useful, and of relieving those under him from some
portion of their toil, at the same time that they increased my sincere
esteem for him, were nothing more than what I expected from one who had
endeavoured by every means in his power to contribute to the success of
that enterprise upon which he had embarked. But although I have said thus
much of the exhausted condition of the men,--and ere these pages are
concluded my readers will feel satisfied as to the truth of my
statement--I would by no means be understood to say that they flagged for
a moment, or that a single murmur escaped them. No reluctance was visible,
no complaint was heard, but there was that in their aspect and appearance
which they could not hide, and which I could not mistake. My object in
dwelling so long upon this subject has been to point out our situation and
our feelings when we re-entered the Murray. The only circumstance that
appeared to be in our favour was the prevalence of the south-west wind,
by which I hoped we should be assisted in running up the first broad
reaches of that river. I could not but acknowledge the bounty of that
Providence, which had favoured us in our passage across the lake, and I
was led to hope that its merciful superintendance would protect us from
evil, and would silently direct us where human foresight and prudence
failed. We re-entered the river on the 13th under as fair prospects as
we would have desired. The gale which had blown with such violence in the
morning gradually abated, and a steady breeze enabled us to pass our first
encampment by availing ourselves of it as long as day light continued.
Both the valley and the river showed to advantage as we approached them,
and the scenery upon our left (the proper right bank of the Murray)
was really beautiful.
CHAPTER VII.
Valley of the Murray--Its character and capabilities--Laborious progress
up the river--Accident to the boat--Perilous collision with the natives
--Turbid current of the Rufus--Passage of the Rapids--Assisted by the
natives--Dangerous intercourse with them--Re-enter the Morumbidgee--
Verdant condition of its banks--Nocturnal encounter with the natives--
Interesting manifestation of feeling in one family--Reach the spot where
the party had embarked on the river--Men begin to fail entirely--
Determine to send two men forward for relief--Their return--Excursion on
horseback--Reach Pondebadgery Plain, and meet the supplies from the
colony--Cannibalism of the natives--Return to Sydney--Concluding remarks.
VALLEY OF THE MURRAY.
The valley of the Murray, at its entrance, cannot be less than four miles
in breadth. The river does not occupy the centre but inclines to either
side, according to its windings, and thus the flats are of greater or less
extent, according to the distance of the river from the base of the hills.
It is to be remarked, that the bottom of the valley is extremely level,
and extensively covered with reeds. From the latter circumstance, one
would be led to infer that these flats are subject to overflow, and no
doubt can exist as to the fact of their being, at least partially, if not
wholly, under water at times. A country in a state of nature is, however,
so different from one in a state of cultivation, that it is hazardous to
give an opinion as to its practical availableness, if I may use such a
term. I should, undoubtedly, say the marshes of the Macquarie were
frequently covered with water, and that they were wholly unfit for any one
purpose whatever. It is evident from the marks of the reeds upon the
banks, that the flood covers them occasionally to the depth of three feet,
and the reeds are so densely embodied and so close to the river side that
the natives cannot walk along it. The reeds are the broad flag-reed
(arundo phragmatis), and grow on a stiff earthy loam, without any
accompanying vegetation; indeed, they form so solid a mass that the sun
cannot penetrate to the ground to nourish vegetation. On the other hand,
the valley of the Murray, though covered with reeds in most places, is not
so in all. There is no mark upon the reeds by which to judge as to the
height of inundation, neither are they of the same kind as those which
cover the marshes of the Macquarie. They are the species of round reed of
which the South-sea islanders make their arrows, and stand sufficiently
open, not only to allow of a passage through, but for the abundant growth
of grass among them. Still, I have no doubt that parts of the valley are
subject to flood; but, as I have already remarked, I do not know whether
these parts are either deeply or frequently covered. Rain must fall
simultaneously in the S.E. angle of the island in the inter-tropical
regions, and at the heads of all the tributaries of the main stream, ere
its effects can be felt in the lower parts of the Murray. If the valley of
the Murray is not subject to flood, it has only recently gained a height
above the influence of the river, and still retains all the character of
flooded land. In either case, however, it contains land that is of the
very richest kind--soil that is the pure accumulation of vegetable matter,
and is as black as ebony. If its hundreds of thousands of acres were
practically available, I should not hesitate to pronounce it one of the
richest spots of equal extent on earth, and highly favoured in other
respects. How far it is available remains to be proved; and an opinion
upon either side would be hazardous, although that of its liability to
flood would, most probably, be nearest to truth. It is, however, certain
that any part of the valley would require much labour before it could be
brought under cultivation, and that even its most available spots would
require almost as much trouble to clear them as the forest tract, for
nothing is more difficult to destroy than reeds. Breaking the sod would,
naturally, raise the level of the ground, and lateral drains would, most
probably, carry off all floods, but then the latter, at least, is the
operation of an advanced stage of husbandry only. I would, however,
observe that there are many parts of the valley decidedly above the reach
of flood. I have, in the above observations, been particularly alluding to
the lowest and broadest portions of it. I trust I shall be understood as
not wishing to over-rate this discovery on the one hand, or on the other,
to include its whole extent in one sweeping clause of condemnation.
On the 14th, the wind still continued to blow fresh from the N.W.
It moderated at noon, and assisted us beyond measure. We passed our first
encampment, but did not see any natives.
CORDIALITY OF THE NATIVES.
On the 15th, the wind was variable at daylight, and a dense fog was on the
river. As the sun rose, it was dissipated and a light breeze sprung up
from W.S.W. We ran up the stream with a free sheet for six hours, when we
stopped for a short time to get the kettle boiled. Four natives joined us,
but with the exception of the lowest tribe upon the right bank, we had not
seen any number. We were extremely liberal to this tribe, in consequence
of the satisfaction they evinced at our return. We had alarmed them much
on our passage down the river by firing at a snake that was swimming
across it. We, at first, attempted to kill it with the boat-hook, but the
animal dived at our approach, and appeared again at a considerable
distance. Another such dive would have ensured his escape, but a shot
effectually checked him, and as the natives evinced considerable alarm, we
held him up, to show them the object of our proceedings. On our return,
they seemed to have forgotten their fright, and received us with every
demonstration of joy. The different receptions we met with from different
tribes are difficult to be accounted for.
The country appeared to rise before us, and looked more hilly to the N.W.
than I had supposed it to be. Several fine valleys branched off from the
main one to the westward, and, however barren the heights that confined
them were, I am inclined to think, that the distant interior is fertile.
The marks of kangaroos were numerous, and the absence of the natives would
indicate that they have other and better means of subsisting in the back
country than what the river affords.
In the evening, we again ran on for two hours and a half, and reached the
first of the cliffs.
On the 16th, we were again fortunate in the wind, and pressed up the river
as long as day-light continued. At the termination of our journey, we
found ourselves a day's journey in advance. This inspirited the men, and
they began to forget the labours they had gone through, as well as those
that were before them.
On the 17th, we again commenced pulling, the wind being at north, and
contrary. It did not, however, remain in that quarter long, but backed at
noon to the S.W., so that we were enabled to make a good day's journey,
and rather gained than lost ground.
REMARKABLE CLIFF--GEOLOGICAL REMARKS.
Having left the undulating hills, at the mouth of the valley behind us,
we passed cliff after cliff of fossil formation: they had a uniform
appearance as to the substance of which they were composed, and varied
but little in colour. Having already examined them, we thought it
unnecessary to give them any further special attention, since it was
improbable we should find anything new. In turning an angle of the river,
however, a broad reach stretched away before us. An alluvial flat extended
to our left, and a high line of cliffs, that differed in no visible
respect from those we had already passed, rose over the opposite side of
the river. The cliffs faced the W.N.W., and as the sun declined, his beams
struck full upon them. As we shot past, we were quite dazzled with the
burst of light that flashed upon us, and which gave to the whole face of
the cliff the appearance of a splendid mirror. The effect was of course
momentary; for as soon as we had passed the angle of refraction, there was
nothing unusual in its appearance. On a nearer approach, however, it
appeared again as if studded with stars. We had already determined on
examining it more closely, and this second peculiarity still further
excited our curiosity. On landing, we found the whole cliff to be a mass
of selenite, in which the various shells already noticed were plentifully
embedded, as in ice. The features of the cliff differed from any we had
previously remarked. Large masses, or blocks of square or oblong shape,
had fallen to its base, and its surface was hard, whereas the face of the
majority of the other cliffs was soft from the effect of the atmosphere;
and the rock was entirely free from every other substance, excepting the
shells of which it was composed. We of course collected some good
specimens, although they added very considerably to the weight of our
cargo.
The morning of the 18th was calm and cloudless. The wind, of which there
was but little, came from the north, and was as usual warm. We availed
ourselves of a favourable spot to haul our boat on shore under one of the
cliffs upon the proper left of the river, and cleaned her well both
inside and out.
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