Two Expeditions into the Interior of Southern Australia, Complete

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

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34

MR. HUME'S REPORT.

Mr. Hume had returned before me to the camp, and had succeeded in finding
a serpentine sheet of water, about twelve miles to the northward; which he
did not doubt to be the channel of the river. He had pushed on after this
success, in the hope of gaining a further knowledge of the country; but
another still more extensive marsh checked him, and obliged him to retrace
his steps. He was no less surprised at the account I gave of the
termination of the river, than I was at its so speedily re-forming, and it
was determined to lose no time in the further examination of so singular a
region.

FALSE CHANNEL; PERPLEXITIES.

On the morning of the 28th therefore we broke up the camp, and proceeded
to the northward, under Mr. Hume's guidance, moving over ground wholly
subject to flood, and extensively covered with reeds; the great body of
the marsh lying upon our left. After passing the angle of a wood, upon our
right, from which Mount Foster was distant about fourteen miles, we got
upon a small plain, on which there was a new species of tortuous box. This
plain was clear of reeds, and the soil upon it was very rich. Crossing in
a westerly direction we arrived at the channel found by Mr. Hume, who must
naturally have concluded that it was a continuation of the river. The boat
was immediately prepared, and I went up it in order to ascertain the
nature of its formation. For two miles it preserved a pretty general width
of from twenty to thirty yards; but at that distance began to narrow, and
at length it became quite shallow and covered with weeds. We were
ultimately obliged to abandon the boat, and to walk along a native path.
The country to the westward was more open than I had expected. About a
quarter of a mile from where we had left the boat, the channel separated
into two branches; to which I perceived it owed its formation, coming, as
they evidently did, direct from the heart of the marsh. The wood through
which I had entered it on the first occasion bore south of me, to which
one of the branches inclined; as the other did to the S.W. An almost
imperceptible rise of ground was before me, which, by giving an impetus to
the waters of the marsh, accounted to me for the formation of the main
channel. It was too late, on my return to the camp, to prosecute any
further examination of it downwards; but in the morning, Mr. Hume
accompanied me in the boat, to ascertain to what point it led; and we
found that at about a mile it began to diminish in breadth, until at
length it was completely lost in a second expanse of reeds. We passed a
singular scaffolding erected by the natives, on the side of the channel,
to take fish; and also found a weir at the termination of it for the like
purpose so that it was evident the natives occasionally ventured into
the marshes.

There was a small wood to our left which Mr. Hume endeavoured to gain, but
he failed in the attempt. He did, however, reach a tree that was
sufficiently high to give him a full view of the marsh, which appeared to
extend in every direction, but more particularly to the north, for many
miles. We were, however, at fault, and I really felt at a loss what step
to take. I should have been led to believe from the extreme flatness of
the country, that the Macquarie would never assume its natural shape, but
from the direction of the marshes I could not but indulge a hope that it
would meet the Castlereagh, and that their united waters might form a
stream of some importance. Under this impression I determined on again
sending Mr. Hume to the N.E. in order to ascertain the nature of the
country in that direction.

EXCURSION TO THE NORTH-WEST.

The weather was excessively hot, and as my men were but slowly recovering,
I was anxious while those who were in health continued active, to give the
others a few days of rest. I proposed, therefore, to cross the river, and
to make an excursion into the interior, during the probable time of
Mr. Hume's absence; since if, as I imagined, the Macquarie had taken a
permanent northerly course, I should not have an opportunity of examining
the distant western country. Mr. Hume's experience rendered it unnecessary
for me to give him other than general directions.

A PLAIN ON FIRE.

On the last day of the year we left the camp, each accompanied by two men.
I had the evening previously ordered the horses I intended taking with me
across the channel, and at an early hour of the morning I followed them.
Getting on a plain, immediately after I had disengaged myself from the
reeds on the opposite side of the river, which was full of holes and
exceedingly treacherous for the animals, I pushed on for a part of the
wood Mr. Hume had endeavoured to gain from the boat, with the intention of
keeping near the marsh. On entering it, I found myself in a thick brush of
eucalypti, casuarinae and minor trees; the soil under them being mixed
with sand. I kept a N.N.W. course through it, and at the distance of
three miles from its commencement, ascended a tree, to ascertain if I was
near the marshes; when I found that I was fast receding from them. I
concluded, therefore, that my conjecture as to their direction was right,
and altered my course to N.W., a direction in which I had observed a dense
smoke arising, which I supposed had been made by some natives near water.
At the termination of the brush I crossed a barren sandy plain, and from
it saw the smoke ascending at a few miles' distance from me. Passing
through a wood, at the extremity of the plain, I found myself at the
outskirts of an open space of great extent, almost wholly enveloped in
flames. The fire was running with incredible rapidity through the rhagodia
shrubs with which it was covered. Passing quickly over it, I continued my
journey to the N.W. over barren plains of red sandy loam of even surface,
and bushes of cypresses skirted by acacia pendula. It was not until after
sunset that we struck upon a creek, in which the water was excellent; and
we halted on its banks for the night, calculating our distance at
twenty-nine miles from the camp. The creek was of considerable size,
leading northerly. Several huts were observed by us, and from the heaps of
muscle-shells that were scattered about, there could be no doubt of its
being much frequented by the natives. The grass being fairly burnt up, our
animals found but little to eat, but they had a tolerable journey and did
not attempt to wander in search of better food. I shot a snipe near the
creek, much resembling the painted snipe of India; but I had not the means
with me of preserving it.

A TRIBE OF NATIVES.

Continuing our journey on the following morning, we at first kept on the
banks of the creek, and at about a quarter of a mile from where we had
slept, came upon a numerous tribe of natives. A young girl sitting by the
fire was the first to observe us as we were slowly approaching her. She
was so excessively alarmed, that she had not the power to run away; but
threw herself on the ground and screamed violently. We now observed a
number of huts, out of which the natives issued, little dreaming of the
spectacle they were to behold. But the moment they saw us, they started
back; their huts were in a moment in flames, and each with a fire-brand
ran to and fro with hideous yells, thrusting them into every bush they
passed. I walked my horse quietly towards an old man who stood more
forward than the rest, as if he intended to devote himself for the
preservation of his tribe. I had intended speaking to him, but on a nearer
approach I remarked that he trembled so violently that it was impossible
to expect that I could obtain any information from him, and as I had not
time for explanations, I left him to form his own conjectures as to what
we were, and continued to move towards a thick brush, into which they did
not venture to follow us.

CONTINUE OUR JOURNEY.

After a ride of about eighteen miles, through a country of alternate plain
and brush, we struck upon a second creek leading like the first to the
northward. The water in it was very bitter and muddy, and it was much
inferior in appearance to that at which we had slept. After stopping for
half-an-hour upon its banks, to rest our animals, we again pushed forward.
We had not as yet risen any perceptible height above the level of the
marshes, but had left the country subject to overflow for a considerable
space behind us. The brushes through which we had passed were too sandy to
retain water long, but the plains were of such an even surface, that they
could not but continue wet for a considerable period after any fall of
rain. They were covered with salsolaceous plants, without a blade of
grass; and their soil was generally a red sandy loam. There were
occasional patches that appeared moist, in which the calystemma was
abundant, and these patches must, I should imagine, form quagmires in the
wet season.

On leaving the last-mentioned creek, we found a gently rising country
before us; and about three or four miles from it we crossed some stony
ridges, covered with a new species of acacia so thickly as to prevent our
obtaining any view from them. As the sun declined, we got into open forest
ground; and travelled forwards in momentary expectation, from appearances,
of coming in sight of water; but we were obliged to pull up at sunset on
the outskirts of a larger plain without having our expectation realized.
The day had been extremely warm, and our animals were as thirsty as
ourselves. Hope never forsakes the human breast; and thence it was that,
after we had secured the horses, we began to wander round our lonely
bivouac. It was almost dark, when one of my men came to inform me that he
had found a small puddle of water, to which he had been led by a pigeon.

It was, indeed, small enough, probably the remains of a passing shower; it
was, however, sufficient for our necessities, and I thanked Providence for
its bounty to us. We were now about sixty miles from the Macquarie, in a
N.W. by W. direction, and the country had proved so extremely
discouraging, that I intimated to my men my intention of retracing my
steps, should I not discover any change in it before noon on the morrow.
A dense brush of acacia succeeded to the plain on which we had slept,
which we entered, and shortly afterwards found ourselves in an open space,
of oblong shape, at the extremity of which there was a shallow lake. The
brush completely encircled it, and a few huts were upon its banks. About
10 p.m. we got into an open forest track of better appearance than any
over which we had recently travelled.

ISOLATED HILL.

There was a visible change in the country, and the soil, although red, was
extremely rich and free from sand. A short time afterwards we rose to the
summit of a round hill, from which we obtained an extensive view on most
points of the compass. We had imperceptibly risen considerably above the
general level of the interior.

VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT.

Beneath us, to the westward, I observed a broad and thinly wooded valley;
and W. by S., distant apparently about twenty miles, an isolated mountain,
whose sides seemed almost perpendicular, broke the otherwise even line of
the horizon; but the country in every other direction looked as if it was
darkly wooded. Anticipating that I should find a stream in the valley, I
did not for a moment hesitate in striking down into it. Disappointed,
however, in this expectation, I continued onwards to the mountain, which I
reached just before the sun set. Indeed, he was barely visible when I
gained its summit; but my eyes, from exposure to his glare, became so
weak, my face was so blistered, and my lips cracked in so many places,
that I was unable to look towards the west, and was actually obliged to
sit down behind a rock until he had set.

Perhaps no time is so favourable for a view along the horizon as the
sunset hour; and here, at an elevation of from five to six hundred feet
above the plain, the visible line of it could not have been less than from
thirty-five to forty-five miles. The hill upon which I stood was broken
into two points; the one was a bold rocky elevation; the other had its
rear face also perpendicular, but gradually declined to the north, and at
a distance of from four to five miles was lost in an extensive and open
plain in that direction. In the S.E. quarter, two wooded hills were
visible, which before had appeared to be nothing more than swells in the
general level of the country. A small hill, similar to the above, bore
N.E. by compass; and again, to the west, a more considerable mountain than
that I had ascended, and evidently much higher, reflected the last beams
of the sun as he sunk behind them. I looked, however, in vain for water.
I could not trace either the windings of a stream, or the course of a
mountain torrent; and, as we had passed a swamp about a mile from the
hill, we descended to it for the night, during which we were grievously
tormented by the mosquitoes.

RESULTS OF THE EXCURSION.

I had no inducement to proceed further into the interior. I had been
sufficiently disappointed in the termination of this excursion, and the
track before me was still less inviting. Nothing but a dense forest, and a
level country, existed between me and the distant hill. I had learnt, by
experience, that it was impossible to form any opinion of the probable
features of so singular a region as that in which I was wandering, from
previous appearances, or to expect the same result, as in other countries,
from similar causes. In a geographical point of view, my journey had been
more successful, and had enabled me to put to rest for ever a question of
much previous doubt. Of whatever extent the marshes of the Macquarie might
be, it was evident they were not connected with those of the Lachlan. I
had gained knowledge of more than 100 miles of the western interior, and
had ascertained that no sea, indeed that little water, existed on its
surface; and that, although it is generally flat, it still has elevations
of considerable magnitude upon it.

Although I had passed over much barren ground, I had likewise noticed soil
that was far from poor, and the vegetation upon which in ordinary seasons
would, I am convinced, have borne a very different aspect.

Yet, upon the whole, the space I traversed is unlikely to become the haunt
of civilized man, or will only become so in isolated spots, as a chain of
connection to a more fertile country; if such a country exist to the
westward.

The hill which thus became the extreme of my journey, is of sandstone
formation, and is bold and precipitous. Its summit is level and lightly
timbered. As a tribute of respect to the late Surveyor-General, I called
it Oxley's Table Land, and I named the distant hills D'Urban's Group,
after Sir Benjamin D'Urban, in compliance with a previous request of my
friend Lieut. De la Condamine, that I would so name any prominent feature
of the interior that I might happen to come upon.

RETURN TO THE CAMP.

In returning to the camp, I made a circuit to the N.E., and reached the
Macquarie late on the evening of the 5th of January; having been absent
six days, during which we could not have ridden less than 200 miles. Yet
the horses were not so fatigued as it was natural to expect they would
have been.

My servant informed me that a party of natives had visited the camp on the
3rd, but that they retired precipitately on seeing the animals. I
regretted to find the men but little better than when I left them. Several
still complained of a painful irritation of the eyes, and of great
weakness of sight. Attributing their continued indisposition in some
measure to our situation, I was anxious to have moved from it; but as Mr.
Hume was still absent, I could not decide upon the measure. He made his
appearance, however, on the 6th, having ridden the greater part of the day
through rain, which commenced to fall in the morning. Soon after his
arrival, Dawber, my overseer of animals, who had accompanied him, was
taken suddenly ill. During the night he became much worse, with shivering
and spasms, and on the following morning he was extremely weak and
feverish. To add to my anxiety, Mr. Hume also complained of indisposition.
His state of health made me the more anxious to quit a position which I
fancied unwholesome, and in which, if there was no apparent, there was
certainly some secret, exciting cause; and as Mr. Hume reported having
crossed a chain of ponds about four miles to the eastward, and out of the
immediate precincts of the marshes, I ordered the tents to be struck, and
placing Dawber on my horse, we all moved quietly over to them.

MR. HUME'S EXCURSION.

The result of Mr. Hume's journey perplexed me exceedingly. He stated, that
on setting out from the Macquarie his intention was to have proceeded to
the N.E., to ascertain how far the reeds existed in that direction, and,
if at all practicable, to reach the Castlereagh; but in case of failure,
to regain the Macquarie by a westerly course. At first he travelled nearly
four miles east, to clear the marshes, when he came on the chain of ponds
to which we had removed.

He travelled over good soil for two miles after crossing this chain of
ponds, but afterwards got on a red sandy loam, and found it difficult to
proceed, by reason of the thickness of the brush, and the swampy state of
the ground in consequence of the late rain.

The timber in the brushes was of various kinds, and he saw numerous
kangaroos and emus. On issuing from this brush, he crossed a creek,
leading northerly, the banks of which were from ten to twelve feet high.
Whatever the body of water usually in it is, it now only afforded a few
shallow puddles. Mr. Hume travelled through brushes until he came upon a
third creek, similar to the one he had left behind him, at which he halted
for the night. The water in it was bad, and the feed for the animals
extremely poor. The brush lined the creek thickly, and consisted chiefly
of acacia pendula and box. The country preserved an uniform level, nor did
Mr. Hume, from the highest trees, observe any break on the horizon.

On the 2nd of January, Mr. Hume kept more northerly, being unable to
penetrate the brushes he encountered. At two miles he crossed a creek
leading to the N.W., between which and the place at which he had slept, he
passed a native burial ground, containing eight graves. The earth was
piled up in a conical shape, but the trees were not carved over as he had
seen them in most other places.

The country became more open after he had passed the last mentioned creek,
which he again struck upon at the distance of eight miles, and as it was
then leading to the N.N.E. he followed it down for eighteen or twenty
miles, and crossed it frequently during the day. The creek was dry in most
places, and where he stopped for the night the water was bad, and the
cattle feed indifferent.

Mr. Hume saw many huts, but none of them had been recently occupied,
although large quantities of muscle-shells were scattered about. He
computed that he had travelled about thirty miles, in a N.N.W.
direction, and the whole of the land he passed over was, generally
speaking, bad, nor did it appear to be subject to overflow.

On the 3rd, Mr. Hume proceeded down the creek on which he had slept, on a
northern course, under an impression that it would have joined the
Castlereagh, but it took a N.W. direction after he had ridden about four
miles, and then turned again to the eastward of north. In consequence of
this, he left it, and proceeded to the westward, being of opinion that the
river just mentioned must have taken a more northerly course than Mr.
Oxley supposed it to have done.

A short time after Mr. Hume turned towards the Macquarie, the country
assumed a more pleasing appearance. He soon cleared the brushes, and at
two miles came upon a chain of ponds, again running northerly in times of
flood. Shortly after crossing these, he found himself on an extensive
plain, apparently subject to overflow. The timber on it was chiefly of
the blue-gum kind, and the ground was covered with shells. He then thought
he was approaching the Macquarie, and proceeded due west across the flat
for about two miles. At the extremity of it there was a hollow, which he
searched in vain for water. Ascending about thirty feet, he entered a
thick brush of box and acacia pendula, which continued for fourteen miles,
when it terminated abruptly, and extensive plains of good soil commenced,
stretching from N. to S. as far as the eye could reach, on which there
were many kangaroos. Continuing to journey over them, he reached a creek
at 5 p.m. on which the wild fowl were numerous, running nearly north and
south, and he rested on its banks for the night. The timber consisted both
of blue and rough gum, and the soil was a light earth.

Mr. Hume expected in the course of the day to have reached the Macquarie,
but on arriving at the creek, he began to doubt whether it any longer
existed, or whether it had not taken a more westerly direction. On the
following morning, therefore, he crossed the creek, and travelled
W.S.W., for about two miles over good plains; then through light brushes
of swamp-oak, cypress, box, and acacia pendula, for about twelve miles, to
another creek leading northerly. He shortly afterwards ascended a range of
hills stretching W.N.W. to which he gave the name of New Year's Range.
From these hills, he had an extensive view, although not upon the highest
part, but the only break he could see in the horizon was caused by some
hills bearing by compass W. by S. distant about twenty-five miles. There
was, however, an appearance as of high land to the northward, although Mr.
Hume thought it might have been an atmospheric deception. From the range
he looked in vain for the Macquarie, or other waters, and, as his
provisions were nearly consumed, he was obliged to give up all further
pursuit, and to retrace his steps. He fell in with two parties of natives,
which, taken collectively, amounted to thirty-five in number, but had no
communication with them.

It was evident, from the above account, that supposing a line to have been
drawn from the camp northerly, Mr. Hume must have travelled considerably
to the westward of it, and as I had run on a N.W. course from the marshes,
it necessarily followed that our lines of route must have intersected each
other, or that want of extension could alone have prevented them from
having done so; but that, under any circumstances, they could not have
been very far apart. This was too important a point to be left undecided,
as upon it the question of the Macquarie's termination seemed to depend.

Both Mr. Hume and myself were of opinion, that a medium course would be
the most satisfactory for us to pursue, to decide this point; and it
appeared that we could not do better than, by availing ourselves of the
creek on which we were, and skirting the reeds, to take the first
opportunity of dashing through them in a westerly direction.

DOUBTS OF THE FURTHER EXTENSION OF THE RIVER.

I entertained great doubts as to the longer existence of the river, and as
I foresaw that, in the event of its having terminated we should strike at
once into the heart of the interior, I became anxious for the arrival of
supplies at Mount Harris; and although I could hardly expect that they had
yet reached it, I determined to proceed thither. Mr. Hume was too unwell
for me to think of imposing additional fatigue upon him; I left him,
therefore, to conduct the party, by easy stages, to the northward, until
such time as I should overtake them. Even in one day there was a visible
improvement in the men, and Dawber's attack seemed to be rather the
effects of cold than of any thing else. A death, however, under our
circumstances, would have been so truly deplorable an event, that the
least illness was sufficient to create alarm.

I can hardly say that I was disappointed on my arrival at Mount Harris, to
find its neighbourhood silent and deserted. I remained, however, under it
for the greater part of the next day, and, prior to leaving it, placed a
sheet of paper with written instructions against a tree, though almost
without a hope that it would remain untouched.

PERPLEXING SITUATION.

A little after sun-set we reached the first small marsh, at which we
slept; and on the following morning I crossed the plains of the Macquarie,
and joined the party at about fifteen miles from the creek at which I had
left it. I found it in a condition that was as unlooked for by Mr. Hume as
it was unexpected by me, and really in a most perplexing situation.

On the day I left him, Mr. Hume only advanced about two miles, in
consequence of some derangement in the loads. Having crossed the creek,
he, the next morning, proceeded down its right bank, until it entered the
marshes and was lost. He then continued to move on the outskirts of the
latter, and having performed a journey or about eight miles, was anxious
to have stopped, but there was no water at hand. The men, however, were so
fatigued, in consequence of previous illness, that he felt it necessary to
halt after travelling about eleven miles.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34