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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GREAT HEAT.

The heat, which had been excessive at Wellington Valley, increased upon us
as we advanced into the interior. The thermometer was seldom under 114
degrees at noon, and rose still higher at 2 p.m. We had no dews at night,
and consequently the range of the instrument was trifling in the
twenty-four hours. The country looked bare and scorched, and the plains
over which we journeyed had large fissures traversing them, so that the
earth may literally be said to have gasped for moisture. The country,
which above the cataract had borne the character of open forest, excepting
on the immediate banks of the river, where its undulations and openness
gave it a park-like appearance, or where the barren stony ridges prevailed
below that point, generally exhibited alternately plain and brush, the
soil on both of which was good. On the former, crested pigeons were
numerous, several of which were shot. We had likewise procured some of the
rose-coloured and grey parrots, mentioned by Mr. Oxley, and a small
paroquet of beautiful plumage; but there was less of variety in the
feathered race than I expected to find, and most of the other birds we had
seen were recognised by me as similar to specimens I had procured from
Melville Island, and were, therefore, most probably birds of passage.

ASPECT OF THE COUNTRY, AND THE RIVER.

As we neared Mount Harris, the Macquarie became more sluggish in its flow,
and fell off so much as scarcely to deserve the name of a river. In
breadth, it averaged from thirty-five to forty-five yards, and in the
height of its banks, from fifteen to eighteen. Mr. Hume had succeeded in
taking some fish at one of the stock stations; but if I except those
speared by the natives, we had since been altogether unsuccessful with the
hook, a circumstance which I attribute to the lowness of the river itself.

About thirty miles from the cataract the country declines to the north as
a medium point, and again changes somewhat in its general appearance. To
the S. and S.W. it appeared level and wooded, while to the N. the plains
became more frequent, but smaller, and travelling over them was extremely
dangerous, in consequence of the large fissures by which they were
traversed. The only trees to be observed were dwarf-box and the acacia
pendula, both of stunted growth, although flooded-gum still prevailed upon
the river.

On the 20th we travelled on a N.W. course, and in the early part of the
day passed over tolerably good soil. It was succeeded by a barren scrub,
through which we penetrated in the direction of Welcome Rock, a point we
had seen from one of the Plains and had mistaken for Mount Harris.

ARRIVAL AT MOUNT HARRIS.

On a nearer approach, however, we observed our error, and corrected it by
turning more to the left; and we ultimately encamped about a mile to the
W.S.W. of the latter eminence. On issuing from the scrub we found
ourselves among reeds and coarse water-grass; and, from the appearance of
the country, we were led to conclude that we had arrived at a part of the
interior more than ordinarily subject to overflow.

As soon as the camp was fixed, Mr. Hume and I rode to Mount Harris, over
ground subject to flood and covered for the most part by the polygonum,
being too anxious to defer our examination of its neighbourhood even for a
few hours.

VESTIGES OF MR. OXLEY'S ENCAMPMENT.

Nearly ten years had elapsed since Mr. Oxley pitched his tents under the
smallest of the two hills into which Mount Harris is broken. There was no
difficulty in hitting upon his position. The trenches that had been cut
round the tents were still perfect, and the marks of the fire-places
distinguishable; while the trees in the neighbourhood had been felled,
and round about them the staves of some casks and a few tent-pegs were
scattered. Mr. Oxley had selected a place at some distance from the river,
in consequence of its then swollen state. I looked upon it from the same
ground, and could not discern the waters in its channel; so much had they
fallen below their ordinary level. He saw the river when it was
overflowing its banks; on the present occasion it had scarcely sufficient
water to support a current. On the summit of the greater eminence, which
we ascended, there remained the half-burnt planks of a boat, some clenched
and rusty nails, and an old trunk; but my search for the bottle Mr. Oxley
had left was unsuccessful.

A reflection naturally 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 enabled 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 uncommon quickness,
and of great ability, the task of following up his discoveries was not
less enviable than arduous; but, arrived at that point at which his
journey may be said to have terminated and mine only to commence, I knew
not how soon I should be obliged, like him, to retreat from the marshes
and exhalations of so depressed a country. My eye instinctively turned to
the North-West, and the view extended over an apparently endless forest.
I could trace the river line of trees by their superior height; but saw no
appearance of reeds, save the few that grew on the banks of the stream.

Mount Foster, somewhat higher than Mount Harris, on the opposite side of
the river, alone broke the line of the horizon to the North N.W. at a
distance of five miles. From that point all round the compass, the low
lands spread, like a dark sea, before me; except where a large plain
stretching from E. to W., and lying to the S.E. broke their monotony;
and if there was nothing discouraging, there certainly was nothing
cheering, in the prospect.

ILLNESS OF TWO OF THE MEN.

On our return to the camp, I was vexed to find two of the men, Henwood and
Williams, with increased inflammation of the eyes, of which they had
previously been complaining, and I thought it advisable to bleed the
latter.

In consequence of the indisposition of these men, we remained stationary
on the 21st, which enabled me to pay a second visit to Mount Harris. On
ascending the smaller hill, I was surprised to find similar vestiges on
its summit to those I had noticed on the larger one; in addition to which,
the rollers still continued on the side of the hill, which had been used
to get the boat up it. [Mr. Oxley had two boats; one of which he dragged
to the top of each of these hills, and left them turned bottom upwards,
buryinq a bottle under the head of the larger boat, which was conveyed to
the more distant hill.]

Mount Harris is of basaltic formation, but I could not observe any
columnar regularity in it, although large blocks are exposed above the
ground. The rock is extremely hard and sonorous.

MOUNT FOSTER AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD.

We moved leisurely towards Mount Foster, on the 22nd, and arrived opposite
to it a little before sunset. The country between the two is mostly open,
or covered only with the acacia pendula and dwarf-box. The soil, although
an alluvial deposit, is not of the best; nor was vegetation either fresh
or close upon it. As soon as the party stopped, I crossed the river, and
lost no time in ascending the hill, being anxious to ascertain if any
fresh object was visible from its summit, I thought that from an eminence
so much above the level of the surrounding objects, I might obtain a view
of the marshes, or of water; but I was wholly disappointed. The view was
certainly extensive, but it was otherwise unsatisfactory. Again to the
N.W. the lowlands spread in darkness before me; there were some
considerable plains beyond the near wood; but the country at the foot of
the hill appeared open and promising. Although the river line was lost in
the distance, it was as truly pointed out by the fires of the natives,
which rose in upright columns into the sky, as if it had been marked by
the trees upon its banks.

To the eastward, Arbuthnot's range rose high above the line of the
horizon, bearing nearly due East, distant seventy miles. The following
sketch of its outlines will convey a better idea of its appearance from
Mount Foster than any written description.

[small sketch here--not shown in etext]

I stayed on the mount until after sunset, but I could not make out any
space that at all resembled the formidable barrier I knew we were so
rapidly approaching. I saw nothing to check our advance, and I therefore
returned to the camp, to advise with Mr. Hume upon the subject. Not having
been with me on Mount Foster, he took the opportunity to ascend it on the
following morning; and on his return concurred with me in opinion, that
there was no apparent obstacle to our moving onwards. As the men were
considerably better, I had the less hesitation in closing with the
marshes. We left our position, intending to travel slowly, and to halt
early.

The first part of our journey was over rich flats, timbered sufficiently
to afford a shade, on which the grass was luxuriant; but we were obliged
to seek more open ground, in consequence of the frequent stumbling of the
cattle.

We issued, at length, upon a plain, the view across which was as dreary as
can be imagined; in many places without a tree, save a few old stumps
left by the natives when they fired the timber, some of which were still
smoking in different parts of it. Observing some lofty trees at the
extremity of the plain, we moved towards them, under an impression that
they indicated the river line. But on this exposed spot the sun's rays
fell with intense power upon us, and the dust was so minute and
penetrating, that I soon regretted having left the shady banks of the
river.

About 2.p.m. we neared the trees for which we had been making, over ground
evidently formed by alluvial deposition, and were astonished to find that
reeds alone were growing under the trees as far as the eye could
penetrate. It appeared that we were still some distance from the river,
and it was very doubtful how far we might be from water, for which the
men were anxiously calling. I therefore halted, and sent Fraser into the
reeds towards some dead trees, on which a number of spoonbills were
sitting. He found that there was a small lake in the centre of the reeds,
the resort of numerous wild fowl; but although the men were enabled to
quench their thirst, we found it impossible to water the animals. We were
obliged, therefore, to continue our course along the edge of the reeds;
which in a short time appeared in large masses in front of us, stretching
into a vast plain upon our right; and it became evident that the whole
neighbourhood was subject to extensive inundation.

ENCAMP AMIDST REEDS.

I was fearful that the reeds would have checked us; but there was a
passage between the patches, through which we managed to force our way
into a deep bight, and fortunately gained the river at the bottom of it
much sooner than we expected. We were obliged to clear away a space for
the tents; and thus, although there had been no such appearance from Mount
Foster, we found ourselves in less than seven hours after leaving it,
encamped pretty far in that marsh for which we had so anxiously looked
from its summit, and now trusting to circumstances for safety, upon
ground on which, in any ordinary state of the river, it would have been
dangerous to have ventured. Indeed, as it was, our situation was
sufficiently critical, and would not admit of hesitation on my part.

NATURE OF THE COUNTRY.

After the cattle had been turned out, Mr. Hume and I again mounted our
horses, and proceeded to the westward, with a view to examine the nature
of the country before us, and to ascertain if it was still practicable to
move along the river side. For, although it was evident that we had
arrived at what might strictly be called the marshes of the Macquarie, I
still thought we might be at some distance from the place where Mr. Oxley
terminated his journey.

There was no indication in the river to encourage an idea that it would
speedily terminate; nor, although we were on ground subject to extensive
inundation, could we be said to have reached the heart of the marshes, as
the reeds still continued in detached bodies only. We forced a path
through various portions of them, and passed over ground wholly subject to
flood, to a distance of about six miles. We then crossed a small rise of
ground, sufficiently high to have afforded a retreat, had necessity
obliged us to seek for one; and we shortly afterwards descended on the
river, unaltered in its appearance, and rather increased than diminished
in size. A vast plain extended to the N.W., the extremity of which we
could not discern; though a thick forest formed its northern boundary.

It was evident that this plain had been frequently under water, but it was
difficult to judge from the marks on the trees to what height the floods
had risen. The soil was an alluvial deposit, superficially sandy; and many
shells were scattered over its surface. To the south, the country appeared
close and low; nor do I think we could have approached the river from that
side, by reason of the huge belts of reeds that appeared to extend as far
as the the eye could reach.

MEN ATTACKED WITH OPHTHALMIA.

The approach of night obliged us to return to the camp. On our arrival,
we found that the state of Henwood and Williams would prevent our stirring
for a day or two. Not only had they a return of inflammation, but several
other of the men complained of a painful irritation of the eyes, which
were dreadfully blood-shot and weak. I was in some measure prepared for a
relapse in Henwood, as the exposure which he necessarily underwent on the
plain was sufficient to produce that effect; but I now became apprehensive
that the affection would run through the party.

Considering our situation in its different bearings, it struck me that the
men who were to return to Wellington Valley with an account our our
proceedings for the Governor's information, had been brought as far as
prudence warranted. There was no fear of their going astray, as long as
they had the river to guide them; but in the open country which we were to
all appearance approaching, or amidst fields of reeds, they might wander
from the track, and irrecoverably lose themselves. I determined,
therefore, not to risk their safety, but to prepare my dispatches for
Sydney, and I hoped most anxiously, that ere they were closed, all
symptoms of disease would have terminated.

In the course of the day, however, Spencer, who was to return with Riley
to Wellington Valley, became seriously indisposed, and I feared that he
was attacked with dysentery. Indeed, I should have attributed his illness
to our situation, but I did not notice any unusual moisture in the
atmosphere, nor did any fogs rise from the river. I therefore the rather
attributed it to exposure and change of diet, and treated him accordingly.
To my satisfaction, when I visited the men late in the evening, I found a
general improvement in the whole of them. Spencer was considerably
relieved, and those of the party who had inflammation of the eyes no
longer felt that painful irritation of which they had before complained.
I determined, therefore, unless untoward circumstances should prevent it,
to send Riley and his companion homewards, and to move the party without
loss of time.

We had not seen any natives for many days, but a few passed the camp on
the opposite side of the river on the evening of the 25th. They would not,
however, come to us; but fled into the interior in great apparent alarm.

DEPARTURE OF TWO MEN FOR WELLINGTON.

On the morning of the 26th, the men were sufficiently recovered to pursue
their journey. Riley and Spencer left us at an early hour; and about
7 a.m. we pursued a N.N.W. course along the great plain I have noticed,
starting numberless quails, and many wild turkeys, by the way. Leaving
that part of the river on which Mr. Hume and I had touched considerably to
the left, we made for the point of a wood, projecting from the river line
of trees into the plain. The ground under us was an alluvial deposit, and
bore all the marks of frequent inundation.

The soil was yielding, blistered, and uneven; and the claws of cray-fish,
together with numerous small shells, were every where collected in the
hollows made by the subsiding of the waters, between broad belts of reeds
and scrubs of polygonum.

CONSULTATION.

On gaining the point of the wood, we found an absolute check put to our
further progress. We had been moving directly on the great body of the
marsh, and from the wood it spread in boundless extent before us. It was
evidently lower than the ground on which we stood; we had therefore, a
complete view over the whole expanse; and there was a dreariness and
desolation pervading the scene that strengthened as we gazed upon it.
Under existing circumstances, it only remained for us either to skirt
the reeds to the northward, or to turn in again upon the river; and as I
considered it important to ascertain the direction of the Macquarie at so
critical and interesting a point, I thought it better to adopt the latter
measure. We, accordingly, made for the river, and pitched our tents, as at
the last station, in the midst of reeds.

There were two points at this time, upon which I was extremely anxious.
The first was as to the course of the river; the second, as to the extent
of the marshes by which we had been checked, and the practicability of the
country to the northward.

In advising with Mr. Hume, I proposed launching the boat, as the surest
means of ascertaining the former, and he, on his part, most readily
volunteered to examine the marshes, in any direction I should point out.
It was therefore, arranged, that I should take two men, and a week's
provision with me in the boat down the river; and that he should proceed
with a like number of men on an excursion to the northward.

After having given directions as to the regulations of camp during our
absence, we separated, on the morning of the 26th for the first time, in
furtherance of the objects each had in view.

BOAT EXCURSION.

In pulling down the river, I found that its channel was at first extremely
tortuous and irregular, but that it held a general N.W. course, and bore
much the same appearance as it had done since our descent from Mount
Foster.

We had a laborious task in lifting the boat over the trunks of trees that
had fallen into the channel of the river or that had been left by the
floods, and at length we stove her in upon a sunken log. The injury she
received was too serious not to require immediate repair; and we,
therefore, patched her up with a tin plate. This accident occasioned some
delay, and the morning was consumed without our having made any
considerable progress. At length, however, we got into a more open
channel.

The river suddenly increased in breadth to thirty-five or forty-five
yards, with a depth of from twelve to twenty feet of water. Its banks
shelved perpendicularly down, and were almost on a level with the surface
of the stream; and the flood mark was not more than two feet high on the
reeds by which they were lined. We had hitherto passed under the shade of
the flooded gum, which still continued on the immediate banks of the
river; but, the farther we advanced, the more did we find these trees in a
state of decay, until at length they ceased, or were only rarely met with.

TERMINATION OF THE RIVER.

About 2 p.m. I brought up under a solitary tree, in consequence of heavy
rain: this was upon the left bank. In the afternoon, however, we again
pushed forward, and soon lost sight of every other object amidst reeds of
great height. The channel of the river continued as broad and as deep as
ever, but the flood mark did not show more than a foot above the banks,
which were now almost on a level with the water; and the current was so
sluggish as to be scarcely perceptible. These general appearances
continued for about three miles, when our course was suddenly, and most
unexpectedly, checked. The channel, which had promised so well, without
any change in its breadth or depth, ceased altogether; and whilst we were
yet lost in astonishment at so abrupt a termination of it, the boat
grounded. It only remained for us to examine the banks, which we did with
particular attention. Two creeks were then discovered, so small as
scarcely to deserve the name, and which would, under ordinary
circumstances, have been overlooked. The one branched off to the
north--the other to the west. We were obliged to get out of the boat to
push up the former, the leeches sticking in numbers to our legs. The creek
continued for about thirty yards, when it was terminated; and, in order
fully to satisfy myself of the fact, I walked round the head of it by
pushing through the reeds. Night coming on, we returned to the tree at
which we had stopped during the rain, and slept under it. The men cut away
the reeds, or we should not have had room to move. At 2 a.m. it commenced
raining, with a heavy storm of thunder and lightning; the boat was
consequently hauled ashore, and turned over to afford us a temporary
shelter. The lightning was extremely vivid, and frequently played upon
the ground, near the firelocks, for more than a quarter of a minute at a
time.

It is singular, that Mr. Oxley should, under similar circumstances, have
experienced an equally stormy night, and most probably within a few yards
of the place on which I had posted myself. Notwithstanding that the
elements were raging around me, as if to warn me of the danger of my
situation, my mind turned solely on the singular failure of the river. I
could not but encourage hopes that this second channel that remained to
be explored would lead us into an open space again; and as soon as the
morning dawned we pursued our way to it. In passing some dead trees upon
the right bank, I stopped to ascend one, that, from an elevation, I might
survey the marsh, but I found it impossible to trace the river through it.
The country to the westward was covered with reeds, apparently to the
distance of seven miles; to the N.W. to a still greater distance; and to
the north they bounded the horizon.

The whole expanse was level and unbroken, but here and there the reeds
were higher and darker than at other places, as if they grew near constant
moisture; but I could see no appearance of water in any body, or of high
lands beyond the distant forest.

As soon as we arrived at the end of the main channel, we again got out of
the boat, and in pushing up the smaller one, soon found ourselves under a
dark arch of reeds. It did not, however, continue more than twenty yards
when it ceased, and I walked round the head of it as I had done round that
of the other. We then examined the space between the creeks, where the
bank receives the force of the current, which I did not doubt had formed
them by the separation of its eddies. Observing water among the reeds, I
pushed through them with infinite labour to a considerable distance. The
soil proved to be a stiff clay; the reeds were closely embodied, and from
ten to twelve feet high; the waters were in some places ankle deep, and in
others scarcely covered the surface. They were flowing in different
points, with greater speed than those of the river, which at once
convinced me that they were not permanent, but must have lodged in the
night during which so much rain had fallen. They ultimately appeared to
flow to the northward, but I found it impossible to follow them, and it
was not without difficulty that, after having wandered about at every
point of the compass, I again reached the boat.

CAUSES OF THE FAILURE OF THE RIVER.

The care with which I had noted every change that took place in the
Macquarie, from Wellington Valley downwards, enabled me, in some measure,
to account for its present features. I was led to conclude that the waters
of the river being so small in body, excepting in times of flood, and
flowing for so many miles through a level country without receiving any
tributary to support their first impulse, became too sluggish, long ere
they reached the marshes, to cleave through so formidable a barrier; and
consequently spread over the surrounding country--whether again to take
up the character of a river, we had still to determine. Unless, however,
a decline of country should favour its assuming its original shape, it was
evident that the Macquarie would not be found to exist beyond this marsh,
of the nature and extent of which we were still ignorant. The loss of my
barometer was at this time severely felt by me, since I could only guess
at our probable height above the ocean; and I found that my only course
was to endeavour to force my way to the northward, to ascertain, if I
could, from the bottom of the marshes; then penetrate in a westerly
direction beyond them, in order to commence my survey of the S.W.
interior. I was aware of Mr. Hume's perseverance, and determined,
therefore, to wait the result of his report ere I again moved the camp, to
which we returned late in the afternoon of the second day of our
departure. We found it unsufferably hot and suffocating in the reeds, and
were tormented by myriads of mosquitoes, but the waters were perfectly
sweet to the taste, nor did the slightest smell, as of stagnation, proceed
from them. I may add that the birds, whose sanctuary we had invaded, as
the bittern and various tribes of the galinule, together with the frogs,
made incessant noises around us, There were, however, but few water-fowl
on the river; which was an additional proof to me that we were not near
any very extensive lake.

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