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| TO THE HONOURABLE THE CHIEF COMMISSIONER OF CROWN LANDS. | 1 |
| CONTINUATION OF JOURNAL. | 16 |
Depot Camp, Cudye-cudyena, or Buchanan Lake,
October 26, 1861.
Sir,
The following is a brief resume of the proceedings
of the Burke Relief
Expedition since the date of my departure from Adelaide.
Started from Adelaide with the camels, etc., on 16th August, 1861, and overtook the remnant of the party, horses, cart, etc. etc., nothing of any particular note occurring on the journey to Blanchewater (Mr. Baker’s station) more than ordinary on such journeys, save the worthlessness of the cart and consequent detention thereon. A few days before arriving at said station, I was informed that the natives had brought in a report of some white men and camels being seen at some inland water by them, or rather others of Pando or Lake Hope tribe, but did not give the report much credit knowing how easy a person may be misled from the statement he hears from natives, and the probability of putting a wrong construction upon what he hears, more particularly from a tribe of people who really do not understand what you say to them, having hardly any English, but intend making every inquiry and, if at all satisfactory on the point, will make a push for their relief.
Blanchewater.
Got all the stores forwarded ex Lubra, and dray repacked, and started on Tuesday, September 24; went about eleven miles, camels and cart camped at small creek, the horses camped further on, having mistaken their instructions; poor country.
Wednesday, September 25.
Tooncutchan, Mr. Baker’s outstation—sixteen
miles; met Mr. Elder and Mr.
Giles there, and Mr. Stuckey arrived in the afternoon;
poor country.
Thursday, September 26.
Manawaukaninna, Messrs. Stuckey’s outstation, unoccupied; thirteen and a half miles. Mr. Stuckey and I went to Lake Torrens about three miles distant to look out for a good crossing-place for the cart, which we did, and returned to hut. Three of the horses had a narrow escape from drowning before starting this morning. The country was a little better today; filled all our water vessels and bags for the dry country between this and Pando or Lake Hope.
Friday, September 27.
Started early; got all safe across the Lake Torrens, no water being at our crossing nor in view. Horses and camels went on to camp about twenty-five miles distant and leave what water was to spare for the dray and my horse, and proceed on the next day to Lake Pando, which I found afterwards they did, then bearing from 2 degrees 30 minutes to 3 degrees; cart and sheep came twelve and a half miles on same course; at three miles crossed Lake Torrens, then over a fearful jumble of broken sandhills quite unfit to be described, occasionally passing a small flat trending west-north-west and east-south-east; at eleven and a half miles passed on our left a small salt lake, dry, half a mile long; watched bullocks and sheep.
Saturday, September 28.
Started early, came ten miles similar country; did not get to within two miles of where the horses and camels camped on 27th. I rode on and found the water there, and very welcome it was. The bullocks refused to pull and several lay down in the dray and a couple of them charged right and left; unyoked them and came on with them to where the water was left, from which place I meant to start the two blacks, Peter and Sambo, into the lake with them; gave the blacks each a canteen full of water, also Jack, the native shepherd, with instructions to keep on to the lake on the tracks of the advance party, intending to ride over to the lake myself to water my horse, leaving Palmer, and Frank (a native) with the cart and all the water to remain till the bullocks returned for the cart. Started and at one and a half miles found the bullocks at a standstill and the sheep in sight, the bullocks refusing to be driven and charging the blacks. Just as I came up by some mischance the coupling of one of the charging bullocks gave way, and in an instant poor Peter was tossed up in the air by Bawley and as he descended was caught up again and tossed about on the ground; invariably the brute caught his horns against the large canteen and saved the poor fellow’s life. I was obliged to leave the black then aft with the cart, and with Sambo started on for water; travelled and spelled during the whole night and got to the lake early Sunday 29th, party all right; lots of blacks, apparently peaceably inclined. Found that Mr. Hodgkinson and Mr. Middleton had that morning started for the dray with the camels with a supply of water. Mr. Elder and Mr. Stuckey went to look at the country and returned in the evening; the sandhills and flats alternately bore north-north-west and south-south-east from the camel and horses camp of 27th.
Monday, September 30.
Mr. Elder, Mr. Stuckey, and Mr. Giles started; wrote a pencil memo to town. Since we left last station weather very hot and disagreeable in the extreme for the time of year. Anxious about the men and camels; went westward some distance to find traces of the camels, thinking it probable that they might have strayed from them; very hot, north wind, no traces, nor did they return.
Tuesday, October 1.
Exceedingly anxious about the missing party; started out to the cart, found missing party had arrived there all safe on 29th, and started early on the 30th on their return. Immediately started back to lake, horse knocked up; obliged to camp with him and arrived at camp on Wednesday 2nd at 6 a.m., missing party not returned: thought I would never see them again, and an awful blow it would be to me, in the first place the loss of my two best men and the four camels I had so much reliance in. At once on arrival sent for three horses and took Bell and Jack (the native) with me to endeavour to get traces of them or the camels; proceeded east to the end of the
Thursday, October 3.
Invalids recovering; Hodgkinson does not seem to have
suffered as much as
Middleton.
Friday, October 4.
Hodgkinson, with Davis and Jack, two freshest camels (Coppin and Siva) and two horses and plenty of water and food, started to run their tracks for the loading they left from the camels. The cart arrived all safe about midday. The bullock, Bawley, never made his appearance, and I suppose has gone to find his way back to Mr. Jacob’s from whence he was purchased. Cool westerly breeze.
Saturday, October 5.
Hodgkinson and party arrived all safe and were successful in finding the left articles. Middleton very slowly recovering.
Sunday, October 6, and Monday, October 7.
Spelling the camels and bullocks; taking off the shoes of the horses that were shod in town, having stayed on remarkably well. The country soft; not likely to shoe them for a time; appear in good condition; bullocks tender-necked. Rather a strange circumstance occurred while staying here. A pelican, in an attempt to swallow a perch about a foot long by about five inches in diameter or twelve inches in circumference, was choked after getting it halfway down his throat, and found in the morning quite fresh and the tail of the fish out of its mouth. A considerable quantity of clover or trefoil on this lake; and at the eastern end on the flooded flat, grass but not abundant. The country in this part does not appear to have been visited by any rain for very many months; indeed years must have passed since any quantity has fallen in this sandy region; the bottoms of the clay-pans are nearly as hard as bricks. A considerable quantity of saltbush of various kinds around the lake and on the flats, with some polygonum on the flooded flats; innumerable pigeons.
Tuesday, October 8.
Started from Pando Lake Camp at twenty minutes to 9 a.m., wind west and cool, on a bearing of 285 degrees, two miles north-north-west, to junction of Pando Creek till 10.37; in all about four and a quarter miles. Creek is about 250 yards to 300 broad; on the south-west bank of lake there appears to be layers of salty substance. Tipandranara Lake bears from junction 294 degrees; our camp of this morning 117 degrees; south-eastern portion of lake 106 degrees; apparent course of Pando Creek 340 degrees. Within two miles the creek contracts to less than 100 yards, and at camp about six feet. All arrived at 4.10 p.m. on small Lake Uppadae or Camel Lake; total distance fifteen miles. Travelled over a miserable country, with saltbush of various description, and samphire, and small stones occasionally. Upper entrance to lake bears 12 degrees from outlet; length about one and a quarter miles by an average of three-quarters of a mile, surrounded by sandhills and very little timber round it, and that little of the most miserable description of box; a considerable quantity of rushes and a little grass round the margin, and lots of waterfowl. For the latter half of the day’s travel we were pursuing a course from North 20 degrees West to North 10 degrees West, and as much as north at last.
Wednesday, October 9.
Moved round western side of lake for one and a half miles; then bearing 20 degrees, at one and a half miles further struck the creek, now dry; then 1 degree 30 minutes about three-quarters of a mile; on a bearing of 350 degrees, half a mile distant a creek comes in from the east—evidently the same creek that leaves the main creek about one and a quarter miles from this same course—forming a circuit as an anabranch, from west to east one mile; then a bearing of 339 degrees for three and a half miles. Found I had mistaken top of a dry lake for creek; changed course to 145 degrees; three miles. Creek now alongside; general course 20 degrees; went that course two miles and camped at a long deep waterhole. Creek dry in a number of places. I forgot to say that the day we came to Lake Camel, the two natives, Peter and Sambo, absconded, after getting shirts, etc. Those were the fellows that were to guide us and act as interpreters with the natives concerning the white man reported before, and carrying off with them a new canteen and strap, which we will much want yet.
Thursday, October 10.
Started at 7.25; crossed creek at 9.30, bearing 20 degrees to North; recrossed creek ten minutes past 10; same course; then North 40 degrees East till twenty minutes to one; then crossed at the junction of two creeks, apparently insignificant, and went east one mile to main creek; then northward five miles. Scoured great part of the country ahead and could find no water; getting late, and the day very heavy for the bullocks; determined to get them to water; retreated in a course South 20 degrees West about four miles, to a small pool of water in the creek that I crossed at midday, and camped.
Friday, October 11.
Started with the camels and Mr. Middleton, and a native named Bulingani, provisions and water, to go to the relief of the whites said to be in the interior, but at the same time with the intention of returning to camp if unsuccessful in finding a good camp for the animals. On a bearing of 18 degrees, at twenty-two miles, arrived at Lake Perigundi, a semicircular lake from three to four miles in length by one and three-quarter miles broad. The water not very good; the natives even dig round in the clay a short distance from the lake for water for their use. Appear friendly, and we saw about 200 of them—more rather than under that number, and looking remarkably healthy. Camped, surrounded by them on all sides except the lake side about 300 yards off. One of the camels got bogged and narrowly escaped. We kept watch and watch during the night, sending the native who was with us to camp with the blacks, who gave us some fish.
Saturday, October 12.
Up early and returned to camp. Found it deserted in consequence of instructions given to Mr. Hodgkinson previous to departure—that he was to examine the creek southward; and in the event of his finding good feed and water (which at the camp were both indifferent) to remove the camp at once, which he found, and consequently removed, leaving me a memo at an appointed place of his distance and direction, which was about one and a half miles south and west. Two of the working bullocks got off during my absence, and before they were overtaken by the blackfellow (Frank) on horseback, they had got down south as far as Lake Hope; so he reported on arrival.
Sunday, October 13.
Today I started Palmer and Jack on horseback to look after Frank and the bullocks, when they met with the bullocks coming back on their tracks; preparing for a start tomorrow, carrying a supply of water; name of our present camp, a fine long sheet of water, Wankadunnie; bears 220 degrees from the camp retreated from.
Monday, October 14.
Started with bullock-dray at 6.30 on a bearing of 18 degrees; after the first nine and a half miles travelled over undulating country of sand, dry flats, and flooded ground. From the top of the highest sandhill at that distance the whole country, particularly to the eastward, is one mass of flooded timbered flats and subject to awful inundations; at those times it must be quite impracticable—the main creek (apparently) upon our right varying from one or two and a half miles in width, with patches of young trees across its bed and sides. If this country had permanent water and rain occasionally it would do well for stock of any kind—having a fair sprinkling of grass compared with anything of late seen; and at fourteen miles on a bearing of 18 degrees came to, and crossed at an angle, the bed of a small dry lake (with lots of fine grass) or watercourse half a mile wide. When rain has fallen on this
Tuesday, October 15.
Anxious to get off to the place reported by the natives as the abode of the white man, or men; and finding this lake won’t suit as a depot till my return, on account of its boggy nature and scarcity of feed, I started today to endeavour to find a place suitable for that purpose, and travelled over alternate heavy and high sandhills and flooded wooded polygonum flats with a few grassy patches. At eleven miles on a bearing of about 83 1/2 degrees came to a lake, Cudye-cudyena; plenty of grass and clover but the water all but dried up, a few inches only being around its margin; all the centre and south end and side being a mudbank—but thought it would do by digging. On my way back came on a creek with sufficient water and grass, though dry, to suit the purpose, at two miles, and pushed on to camp. A strange circumstance occurred this evening, showing isolated instances of gratitude and honesty of the natives. In the evening after my return a number of natives were near the camp; amongst them, just as they were about to depart, I observed an elderly man and his son, a boy of eight to ten years who appeared to be an invalid and was about to be carried off by the father. I stopped him and, as I was at supper, gave the youth some bread and meat and tea; when they all took their leave. About the end of the first watch (which was regularly kept) I was awake and heard the person on watch, Middleton, speaking, evidently to a native who, to my astonishment as well as to Middleton’s, ventured up to the camp alone at night; and what would the reader suppose his errand was? It was to bring back our axe that one of his tribe had purloined unseen from the camp during the afternoon. On delivery of said article he at once took his leave, promising to come in the morning.
Wednesday, October 16.
In the morning a few of the natives approached the camp, but stood off at a respectable distance, not sure how they were to be dealt with for their dishonesty, till by and bye the old man with a few others came up; and gradually they that stood aloof came up also. Amongst them were women and children to whom I made various little presents of beads and fishhooks, with which they seemed pleased. To the old man for
Thursday, October 17.
At depot making arrangements for a start; out in search of the water the whites are supposed to be at. I will take with me Mr. Hodgkinson, Middleton, and a native of this country, Bulingani (who seems to say he knows something of the whites) four camels, three horses, one hundred and sixty pounds of flour, thirty-two pounds of sugar, four pounds of tea, eleven pounds of bacon, and some little necessary, etc., for persons likely to be in a weak state. Leave Bell in charge of the arrangements of the camp, Davies in charge of the stores. About twenty natives are encamped within pistol shot; but have made a fold for the sheep and put everything in such a shape that I may find things all right on my return. Opened the sausages and found them all less or more damaged, one tin in fact as nearly rotten as possible, which have to be thrown away; the others are now drying in the sun in the hopes we may be able to use them. We would have been in a sad fix without the sheep.
Friday, October 18.
At 8 a.m. started; crossed well-grassed flooded polygonum flats or plains for an hour, crossing Kiradinte in the Careri Creek; then left the creek on the left and passed over a succession of sand ridges. At 9.15 arrived at Lake Cudye-cudyena at about nine miles. It was quite a treat, abundance of good water, and any quantity of grass of various kinds, and plenty of clover. It bears 345 degrees, is about six miles long, and fully half a mile wide, well timbered. On a bearing from this southern end of lake (now called
Saturday, October 19.
Early this morning about eighty natives of all sorts, healthy and strong, visited the camp and could not be coaxed or driven away. I think they would have tried to help themselves were it not from fear of the arms—how they came to know their deadliness I cannot say. Altering one of the camel saddles that has hurt one of their backs and caused us to be late in starting. Started twenty minutes to 9 a.m. Immediately crossed creek to Toorabinganee, a succession of reaches of water in a broad creek, some apparently deep, spelled half an hour, crossed creek and went over very high sandhills, pretty well grassed, with a little saltbush of various kinds, with some flooded and saltbush flats, and arrived at Luncheon Place, an island often, now partly, dry, on south-eastern side in an extensive irregular lake of about eight and a half to nine miles long by an average of one and three-quarters to two miles—very hot—name of Lake Canna Cantajandide. Thought I might be able to cross it at the narrowest place with the horses and camels instead of going all round, as it put me out of my course. Sent Mr. Hodgkinson to ascertain its depth, and found it too deep, so had to go round. Arrived at Luncheon Place at ten minutes past 12, and started again twenty
Sunday, October 20.
At daylight about 90 to 100 natives of all sorts visited us; they were not so unruly as those of the morning before, having evidently had some communication with whites—using the word Yanaman for horse, as in Sydney, and one or two other words familiar to me. Plenty of fish, of sorts, in the lake, although not very deep. Cuddibaien bears 100 degrees. The natives here say that the whites have left above place and are now at Undaganie. I observed several portions of European clothing about their camps as on our course we passed them. At the camp we found twenty to thirty more natives, principally aged and children; and on the opposite side of the lake there was another encampment, in all numbering about 150 souls. The sandhills in our course were exceedingly high on the western side but pretty hard; but on the eastern side almost precipitous and soft drift sand; a dray or cart might get east, but I cannot fancy it possible it could return. An exceedingly hot day, wind north. On our way the natives informed us that the natives we had left in the morning had murdered the man said to be at the end of our day’s stage. On some of the ridges and on crossing a large flat creek I observed two new trees or shrubs (they are both) from one I obtained some seeds like beans, and rather a nice tree; the other, when large, at a distance looks like a shea-oak, having a very dark butt and long, drooping, dark-green, narrow leaves, and did not appear to have any seeds at present. Started at 7.17 till twenty-two minutes to 10, nine miles, on a bearing of from 100 to 105 degrees; at 8.18 sighted a large timbered creek, distant one mile, for about seven miles, 360 to 140 degrees. At twenty-two minutes to 10 observed a large dry salt lake bearing 341 degrees, north-west arm 330 degrees, north arm 355 degrees, distance to extreme point of north bank nine miles. Bullingani informed us that a large lake lay on a bearing of 110 degrees, some distance off, named Murri Murri Ando. At
Monday, October 21.
Up in good time; before starting for the grave went round the lake, taking Mr. Hodgkinson with me to see if natives were really on lake, as I did not intend saddling the camels today if there were no natives here, intending to leave our camp unprotected, rather unwise, but being so short of hands could not help it, the grave being much out of sight. Found no natives round the lake nor any very recent traces saving that some of the trees were still burning that they (when here last) had lighted. We started at once for the grave, taking a canteen of water with us and all the arms. On arrival removed the earth carefully and close to the top of the ground found the body of a European enveloped in a flannel shirt with short sleeves, a piece of the breast of which I have taken; the flesh I may say completely cleared from the bones, and very little hair but what must have been decomposed; what little there was I have
Tuesday, October 22.
Breakfasted and are just about to get in the horses to have a further search when the natives make their appearance within half a mile of us, making for some of their old huts. Immediately on observing us made off at full speed. Mounted the horses and soon overtook one fellow in much fear. In the pursuit the blackfellow with us was thrown from his horse; the horse followed and came up with us just as we pulled the frightened fellow up. Immediately after our blackfellow came up, mounted his horse, and requested us at once to shoot the savage, as he knew him to be one of the murderers of the man or party; but we declined, thinking we might be able to glean something of the others from him. On taking him back from where we caught him to the camp, he brought us to a camp (old) of the natives, and there dug up a quantity of baked horsehair for saddle stuffing. He says everything of the saddlery was burned, the ironwork kept and the other bodies eaten—a sad end of the poor fellows. He stated that there is a pistol north-east of us at a creek which I have sent him to fetch; and a rifle or gun at the lake we last passed which, with the other articles, we will endeavour to recover. Exceedingly hot; windy and looks as if it would rain. The natives describe the country from south to north of east as being destitute of water or creeks, which I afterwards found cause to doubt. I have marked a tree here on north side MK Oct. 22, ’61; west side, Dig 1 ft.; where I will bury a memo in case anyone should see my tracks, that they may know the fate of the party we are in search of. There are tens of thousands of the flock pigeon here; in fact since we came north of Lake Torrens they have been very numerous and at same time very wary. Mr. Hodgkinson has been very successful in killing as many of them as we can use, mixed with a little bacon. Before the native went to fetch the pistol he displayed on his body, both before and behind, the marks of ball and shot wounds now quite healed. One ball inside of left knee so disabled him that he had to be carried about (as he states) for some considerable time; he has also the mark of a pistol bullet on right collarbone; and on his breast a number of shot—some now in the flesh but healed. His family, consisting of four lubras and two boys, remained close to our camp awaiting his return, which he said (from pointing to the sun) would be 10 or 11 o’clock next day. When called at twenty minutes to 11 p.m. to take my watch, I had not been on duty ten minutes when I observed a signal fire in the direction he had gone, about six miles distant, and wondered he did not make his appearance, but all was quiet for the rest of the night, excepting that at intervals the fire was replenished.
Wednesday, October 23.
4 a.m. Just as we were getting up, not very clear yet, headed by the fellow I yesterday sent for the pistol, came about forty others bearing torches, shields, etc. etc. etc., shouting and kicking up a great noise and evidently endeavouring to surround us. I immediately ordered them back, also telling the native that was with me to tell them that if they did not keep back I would fire upon them, which they one and all disregarded—some were then within a few paces of us, the others at various other distances. I requested Hodgkinson and Middleton to be ready with their arms and fire when desired. Seeing nothing else left but to be butchered ourselves, I gave the word Fire. A few of those closest retired a few paces and were being encouraged on to the attack when we repeated our fire; and until several rounds were fired into them (and no doubt many felt the effects) they did not wholly retire. I am afraid the messenger, the greatest vagabond of the lot, escaped scathless. They then took to the lake, and a few came round the western side of it, southward, whom we favoured with a few dropping shots to show the danger they were in by the distance the rifles would carry on the water. They then cleared off and we finished with them. I then buried the memo for any person that might happen to follow my footsteps, at the same time informing them to beware of the natives as we had, in self-defence, to fire upon them. I have no doubt, from the manner they came up, that they at once considered us an easy prey; but I fancy they miscalculated and I hope it may prove a useful lesson to them in future. Got breakfast ready and over without further molestation and started at 10.30 on a bearing of 197 degrees. At 11.15 reached a recently-flooded richly-grassed flat, surrounded by a margin of trees; the main bulk of it lying south of our course; thence bearing 202 degrees, stopping twenty minutes for camels; and proceeding and at 12.30 crossing north-west end of another dry lake or grassed and clovered flat similar to the other. At 1.20 made a large box creek with occasional gums, about from fifty to sixty yards wide and eighteen to twenty feet deep, sandy bottom, where we struck it perfectly dry where a stream flows to west of north with immense side creeks (I fancy Cooper’s Creek is a branch of it); followed its bed in its course northward and at 2 p.m. reached a waterhole with no very considerable quantity of water. Watered the camels and horses. This creek is named Werridi Marara. From thence Lake Buchanan bears 232 degrees 30 minutes; Kadhiberri 41 degrees; Lake Mooliondhurunnie 296 degrees. Crossed the creek and went on a bearing of 215 degrees 30 minutes till 6 p.m., striking same creek and following its bed (dry) for about two miles and reached Dharannie Creek; a little indifferent water in its bed, very steep banks (about thirty feet high) and sixty yards broad. The bed of the creek from where we struck it at 6 p.m. was chiefly rocky or conglomerate stone resembling burned limestone.
Thursday, October 24.
Left at 7.15 bearing 215 degrees; travelling one hour and twenty minutes over splendid grassy flats with low intervening sand-ridges. At five minutes to ten made Arannie, a recently-dried lake (abundance of clover and grasses) three miles long by one broad, at rightangles to our course, and struck it quarter of a mile from its northern extremity. At 10.22 made Ityamudkie, another recently-dried lake; plenty of luxuriant feed. At ten minutes to 11 reached its western border at a creek called Antiwocarra, with no great quantity of water, flowing from 320 degrees. At 1 p.m. left Antiwocarra. At five minutes to 2 made a large flooded flat, recently under water, with a great abundance of clover and grasses reaching as far as the eye can trace. At rightangles to our course at 2.15 reached its western border, and at 2.25 reached the depot at Lake Buchanan or Cudye-cudyena—the place where I directed the camp to be shifted to—and found everything in good order, much to my satisfaction. My black female messengers it appears did not go back at once to our camp with the note I gave them, and consequently they did not get here till Sunday.
Friday, October 25.
At camp very much the appearance of rain but none has fallen. Clearing off any heavy trees round our camp that could be used by natives as places of concealment. Have made up my mind to send a party into the settled districts as far as Blanchewater with such information regarding the object of my search and as much general information as is in my power, with copy of journal and tracing showing our route, which Mr. Hodgkinson will be better able to do neatly at Blanchewater than here in the tents; although he has made here on the spot such a one as would give a very good idea of all that is necessary. No part of this country has had any rain for very many months; the grasses and herbage generally on the hilly ground being like tinder. If it had an ordinary share it would be an excellent healthy stock country. From the numbers of natives and their excellent condition I am satisfied that many lakes and creeks in this part are permanent; and as I mean to give it a good look over I have come to the conclusion that I will require a further supply of flour, tea, sugar, and a few little et ceteras, and will therefore send horses with the party that goes to Blanchewater under the guidance of Mr. Hodgkinson to bring up additional supplies, trusting to get them there, and at the same time hoping this course may meet the approbation of the Government; for in so doing I adopt the course I would pursue on my own account and therefore do it on theirs. The men are in excellent health and good spirits, and the animals except the camels (they cannot stand the heavy hills of sand if at all hot, which it was on our last trip) are all in good condition—many of them much better than when we left Adelaide. The wind is blowing from all parts of the compass but rather cool. For days previous it kept from the north and generally very hot indeed. As yet no rare specimens obtained of birds, animals, or anything else.
Saturday, October 26.
Threatens very much for rain; very sultry; sun overcast; and wind from every quarter except north. Will start Mr. Hodgkinson, Bell, Wylde, and Jack (the native) on Monday 28th October if nothing comes in the way, and will request Mr. Hodgkinson to endeavour to procure a native that can speak the language of the natives here; as those we have got do not know one word nor, on the contrary, do the natives here understand them. They all circumcise and principally knock out the two front teeth of the upper jaw. After all the threatening for rain the day has closed without any.
Sunday, October 27.
Wind south and sultry; everything ready for the return party making a start tomorrow; I expect them to be absent about three weeks. I am sorry so much time should be lost; however should any rain fall ere they return I will go over to Cooper’s Creek Depot; but the country is so exceedingly dry in this region at present that, unless I can make out to hit upon those places where water has been left by the last flood, it would be quite impossible to travel with anything like safety. Not a single quart of water (surface left by rain) has been fallen in with since we left Lake Torrens; and I question very much (from my knowledge of the Darling country) whether Mr. Howitt has been able to push his way out as far as Cooper’s Creek yet for the want of rain, and am almost satisfied in my own mind that Burke and party either reached the north coast, or at all events went a very long way out, on a bearing of (firstly by account of the natives) 311 1/2 degrees to or passing a salt lake or watercourse (perhaps then fresh) where the natives report that the whites killed their horse. They call the place Beitiriemalunie; there is also another lake, salt now (perhaps then fresh) called Baramberrany. They gave no particular intelligence as to the camels save mimicking their awkward way of travelling with their heads thrown back. A bearing of 311 1/2 degrees would take them near to Eyre’s Creek; and I have no doubt that at that time Burke and party went out from Cooper’s Creek (in December last) they would have to contend with too much water instead of the want of it, as they must have travelled out of their way, very many miles often, to pass the immense basins, swamps, and watercourses (boggy) that must have come in their line of travel; and at that time all this country, perhaps to Stuart’s line of route, could have been thoroughly examined, as I can see in many places large watercourses in the direction; and my belief is that Burke’s party were massacred on their return by their outward route, and by one of their old camps. Whether they were all slaughtered or not it is impossible to say from the traces and the considerable time that has elapsed since they were killed. I will endeavour to examine the country all round this locality for further traces of the party and camels; and on return of my party, if not before, will push out a scouting party towards Eyre’s Creek and that quarter. I retain the two tins found near the scene of the disaster. This for the present brings my journal to a close.
John MCKINLAY, Leader.
* * *
[Copy of letter buried at lake Massacre.]
S.A.B.R. Expedition.
October 23rd, 1861.
To the Leader of any expedition seeking tidings of Burke and party:
Sir,
I reached this water on the 19th instant, and by means of a native guide discovered a European camp one mile north, on west side of flat. At or near this camp traces of horses, camels, and whites were found. Hair, apparently belonging to Mr. Wills, Charles Gray, and Mr. Burke or King, was picked from the surface of a grave dug by a spade, and from the skull of a European buried by the natives. Other less important traces—such as a pannican, oil can, saddle stuffing, etc., have been found. Beware of the natives; upon whom we have had to fire. We do not intend to return to Adelaide, but proceed to west of north. From information, all Burke’s party were killed and eaten.
I have, etc., John MCKINLAY.
P.S. All the party in good health. If you had any difficulty in reaching this spot, and wish to return to Adelaide by a more practicable route, you may do so for at least three months to come by driving west for eighteen miles, then south of west, cutting our dray track within thirty miles. Abundance of water, and feed at easy stages.
* * *
(The preceding portion having been forwarded to Adelaide in October, 1861.)
Monday, October 28.
At 2.45 p.m. started Mr. Hodgkinson, Bell, Wylde, and Jack (native) with four saddle-horses and twelve packhorses and saddles. Weather sultry, sky overcast. Between 9 and 10 p.m. a heavy gale of wind from west, with a good deal of thunder and lightning, which blew our encampment quickly to the ground, after which we had a few squally showers from same quarter, but nothing of any consequence; towards morning the wind quite lulled.
Tuesday, October 29.
Wind variable from north-west to south, and very cloudy, in expectation of more rain; about 10 p.m. a native signal-fire south of this some distance. Have seen none since my return—no great loss; none have made their appearance during the night.
Wednesday, October 30.
At daylight quite a calm; then at 6 a.m. wind from south, then south-east, then east, with a beautiful clear sky and the air very agreeable. During the afternoon wind back to south and then a fresh westerly breeze. Native dogs rather troublesome, lay baits with strychnine.
Thursday, October 31.
At daylight found three baits gone and found close by two dead dogs. Unpacking cart to put wheels in order, being rather loose, when one of the baits fell from limb of tree, where for the time they were put, and unfortunately our poor dog discovered it and ate it, and in a few moments was dead. Wind as yesterday. Sowed some melon (pie), pumpkins, orange pips, apricot, peach, and plum stones. During the night a native signal-fire seen south.
Friday, November 1.
Wind westerly and strong and lots of light fleecy clouds. About 9 a.m. the native Bullingani, who was out with me, came into camp alone, having disappeared the evening of my return from Kadhibaerri. I wish he understood a little English as then he would be of much service.
Saturday, November 2.
Wind westerly round to south and east during the day, afternoon very strong westerly. Rode out today to the highest sandhill south-east and round to west and north-west of the lake I am now on to see if any likelihood of water to the east, west, or north-west; found a good deal in a creek running northerly on west side of lake and beyond it; returned by west side of lake. The native went away this afternoon, promising to be back tomorrow.
Sunday, November 3.
Very strong west wind but cool and agreeable. Native not returned.
Monday, November 4.
In the morning wind light from south, veered round to east; blew strong but cool. From the termination of the trees on creek that fills this lake Anlaby Hill bears 165 degrees; patiently awaiting a good shower to enable me to get to Cooper’s Creek Depot to ascertain if any further traces of Burke’s party or his camels are there visible, or if Mr. Howitt’s party have arrived. On my way out on Saturday about two miles from here found dung of horses or mules, of some considerable age, and on my return to the camp one of the men a short distance from the camp picked up part of a hobble-strap with black buckle, much worn and had been patched, or rather sewn, by someone as a makeshift; the leather was perfectly rotten. No traces on any of the trees round here of anyone having been encamped. The flies all along have been a thorough plague; fortunately, and strange to say, we have had no mosquitoes, but thousands of small gnats take their place, and find their way into everything. Our native Bullingani not returned. I hardly expected him as he did not seem inclined to give any further information either as to water or any other subject. He says they are mustering about fifteen miles south of this for a grand (weima) or corroberrie, and informs me that they are gathering in from all quarters, so that I hardly like to weaken the camp here by taking one of the men away with me. I have generally seen at the break up of those great meetings that if they can manage it they in some way or other do mischief, and unless I see a peaceable dispersion of these people I will not move far away, at least for not longer than a day or two.
Tuesday, November 5.
Wind west; during the day round to south and east; temperature mild. A few natives made their appearance on the north-west side of the lake some distance off; towards afternoon four of their young men came to the opposite side. I sent for them and they came over and had some dinner; after a few questions about waters, etc. etc., they took their leave southward, the way no doubt the rest of their tribe had gone.
Wednesday, November 6.
Wind east in gusts and cloudy; in afternoon blew strong. Temperature very agreeable.
Thursday, November 7.
Wind during the night and at daylight blew very strong from the east, towards noon it moderated; sky much clouded but I suppose up here it will all blow past without any rain, although it appears to be falling in the east. Wind round to south-east and south during afternoon with every appearance of rain.
Friday, November 8.
No rain during the night but it was very mild and close; wind south-east with a few clouds but with very little appearance of rain. Anxious to find water about a day’s stage eastward of depot; started out for that purpose east three-quarters of a mile to top of sandhill close by; then on a bearing of 118 degrees for large sandhill at quarter of a mile. Entered a well-grassed flooded flat for about two miles, and at about one and a quarter miles further arrived at sandhill. About two miles south-south-east is the grassy bed of a fine lake now dry, unless there may be a little water in the creek at the south-east end of it. Not seeing anything in the appearance of the country to indicate the presence of water on this course, I started on a bearing of 68 degrees over sandhills, and at two miles came to very cracked flooded flats, and continued on them for four and a half miles, and at one and a half miles further came to a long salty swamp running nearly north and south, a desolate spot; then a sand rise and another of the same. Changed course then to 90 degrees over sandhills; at seven miles long flooded grassed flat, north to south; then sandhill; at eight miles came to an immense flooded flat, north to south, with great width at its northern end. At two and three-quarter miles further came to top of very high sandhill, and close under (east) an immense dry salt lake or very large flat. From this there is the appearance of a large lake northward, bearing 12 degrees 20 minutes; it may be mirage, but I have observed it further back on the day’s stage, and from top of the highest hills it looks more like water than mirage, and will therefore start for it, and if I find it is water, it will suit my purpose as a stage on my intended journey to Cooper’s Creek on the arrival of the party now absent at Blanchewater. For the first three miles over sand-ridges, then over cracked flooded flats (grassless) for four miles, a box or gum creek on my right running northward and southward. At the end of this distance I am satisfied that I have been deceived; and as the day has been very hot and my horse appears to be ill I will shape my course for the camp. Started at ten minutes to 4 p.m.; find my horse thoroughly done up with, it appears, dysentery, and am obliged to camp on top of large sandhill at 6.50 p.m.; not a breath of wind and smoking hot. I chose this for a camp that I may be enabled at daylight to see if there are any waters within range of sight.
Saturday, November 9.
At daylight have a splendid view of the country round but not the slightest appearance of water anywhere; start at 4 a.m. and I scarcely think from the look of the horse that he will be able to take me in. I never in so short a time saw an animal fall away so much. At 7 a.m. struck the tracks of our horses and camels as we returned from Cadhibaerri and followed them to camp. They led a little more to the south than my course, as I now find that would take me out on the lake camp about two miles north of camp. At about 8.10 a.m. got to camp, the horse very seedy and myself not feeling very well. Some natives visited the camp during my absence and I now see some on the opposite side of lake. I sent for one to endeavour to get some information from him. They had started off for our old camp before the messenger arrived but he followed and one of them came back and stopped the night. I mean to take him out east if he stops. I am getting very unwell from dysentery. Wind strong from the north and very disagreeable.
Sunday, November 10.
Very unwell today; fortunately we have plenty of medicine. Wind moderate from north-east to east and south-east. The native visitor, under pretence of going to bring a net from the opposite side of the lake, took French leave. I dare say when well I shall be able to get another.
Monday, November 11.
Worse rather than better today. To add to my misfortunes I have got my right knee and back tendons become very stiff and painful, so much so that I can hardly move. Very cloudy; wind changeable from north-east to south-east.
Tuesday, November 12.
Wind strong from east and south-east. Little better today but leg equally sore and stiff. Getting the cartwheels wedged and put to rights. From the awful torment of the flies, the horses, although on magnificent feed, are not in anything like the same condition as they were ten days ago; to endeavour to escape them they go into the lake, and remain there for hours at a stretch, lying down in the water and occasionally ducking their heads under but to no purpose. Killed a sheep as the part of the last one that was not jerked got putrid during next day and had to be thrown away. Am sorry also that the sausages, after dragging them so far, after all have to be thrown away, being perfectly unfit for use; had they been good they would have been a splendid thing. We find the bacon an excellent standby. Threatens much for rain.
Wednesday, November 13.
Rain blown off. Much better today. Wind very strong from east and particularly cold, so much so that I can keep my coat on and not feel inconvenienced by it; whereas before one’s shirt was sufficient. Wind chopped round in the evening to south, pretty strong.
Thursday, November 14.
Getting quite well again but knee quite stiff and painful. Very cold during the night and at daylight quite ready for a topcoat. Wind strong from east; moderated at noon and got warm. It is quite a pleasure to see how well the bullocks are freshening; some indeed fit to kill; they don’t seem to suffer so much from the flies as the horses or camels. Two of the latter (the Melbourne ones) had their backs slightly bruised and, although constantly attended to, take a very long time to recover.
Friday, November 15.
Wind east at daylight. Thermometer stood at 54 degrees; this is lower than I thought it would have been and the morning is not anything like so cold as yesterday morning. I will notice the temperature during the rest of our stay here. At five in the afternoon it stood at 100 degrees. Bullingani and his two lubras came to the camp accompanied by another native of Lake Perrigundi.
Saturday, November 16.
Wind east at daylight; thermometer, 63 degrees; breeze very moderate; at noon died away to a calm. At 2 p.m. thermometer in sun 140 degrees; at 6 p.m. 106 degrees in the sun. Some natives opposite fishing in the lake; one here busy making a net from the rushy grass that abounds round the lake. At sunset quite a calm.
Sunday, November 17.
Quite a calm at daylight; temperature in open air 68 degrees; at 8 a.m. slight breeze from north, thermometer in sun 118 degrees; at 10 a.m. 136 degrees; at noon 160 degrees with wind from north-west with a number of thunder-looking clouds. At sunset temperature 97 degrees; still cloudy. A further arrival of natives on opposite side of lake.
Monday, November 18.
At daylight calm; temperature 73 degrees in open air. At 10 a.m. temperature 143 degrees in the sun out of the wind; wind from north to north-west. A number of natives arrived this morning. At twenty minutes to 11 a.m. temperature 154 degrees; at noon cool breeze temperature 146 degrees; at sunset light breeze from north-west, temperature 102 degrees. Anxiously expecting the party under Mr. Hodgkinson.
Tuesday, November 19.
Wind north at daylight; temperature 77 degrees in open air; up till noon blew strong. Temperature at noon in sun out of the breeze 136 degrees. At sunset wind moderated; heavy clouds from south-east round by south-west to north. At 9 p.m. temperature 96 degrees. At 12 blew a strong gale from south-east accompanied by a very little rain. A good deal of lightning and a little thunder from the southward of west, round west and north of west and apparently raining.
Wednesday, November 20.
Wind working round from south of east to north of east. At 6 a.m. temperature 84 degrees; very cloudy and threatens much for rain—perhaps when the wind moderates we may have a fall. For the last few days Middleton has been laid up with a very bad sore ulcerated throat but is now nearly recovered. I am now quite recovered and anxiously awaiting the return of Mr. Hodgkinson’s party that I may be enabled to start for Cooper’s Creek by a route a little more to the southward than when I tried when last out. At 1 p.m. wind fallen and changed to west-north-west; temperature 98 degrees. Wind suddenly chopped round by west to south from which quarter till dark it blew quite a gale, causing the lake to recede about 600 yards further north. Highest temperature during afternoon 105 degrees; at 7 p.m. 90 degrees. It looks exceedingly like rain and very boisterous. Mr. Hodgkinson’s party not yet arrived. At midnight a few drops of rain with the high wind.
Thursday, November 21.
Quite a calm, the sky completely overcast; whether it will rain or not remains to be seen. The water in the lake has returned to its old bed. Temperature at daylight 85 degrees. From a long conversation I had with a native yesterday, who came to the camp, I am led to believe that only one of the whites was murdered at Lake Cadhibaerri at the time of the attack upon them by the natives there. On the return of the party from the north-west they repulsed the natives, killing some and wounding others; the party buried their comrade and marched southward. The natives, on seeing that the whites had proceeded onwards, immediately returned to the scene of the disaster, dug up the body, cut off all the principal muscular parts, and feasted upon their revolting repast. So minutely does this native know all their movements that he has described to me all the waters they passed and others at which they camped, and waters that they remained at for some time, subsisting on a sort of vetch seed that the natives principally use here for food, and obtained in large quantities on many of the flooded flats by sweeping it into heaps, then winnowing it, then grinding or pounding it between two stones, then mixing it with water into the consistency of damper, and finally making a cake and putting it into the ashes the same way as damper—when cooked and fit for use it tastes rather strong, but no doubt they could live upon it for a long time as it must be wholesome. That, with the game and fish they could get from the waters of the creeks and lakes, would keep them alive very well if they did not further attempt to make their way to the Darling (which the native says they did) but I hope soon to see and trust they have not attempted to do so. If they have not done so, and that they are alive and escaped the natives, their relief is certain. One thing I cannot arrive at is how long or how many moons it is since they were attacked at Lake Cadhibaerri, as I then could form a much more accurate idea of the truthfulness or otherwise of the native’s statements; but it must be some considerable time as the body I found was perfectly decomposed, and on the skull even there was not a particle of skin, but as bare as if it had lain in a grave for years. A slight shower this afternoon, hardly sufficient to wet one’s shirt. Temperature highest during the day 104 degrees, very close and disagreeable; at sunset temperature 88 degrees, heavy clouds all round, not a breath of wind. Hodgkinson’s party not yet arrived. If he does not come within the next two days I shall feel very uneasy. Had a visit from about a score of natives, some of them from the north-east, other two from the west-north-west about the stony desert, as they describe an abundance of stones in that quarter. Wind from south-east to south, during the night a very little rain.
Friday, November 22.
Daylight quite cloudy and like rain. Temperature 82 degrees, wind chopping all round; at noon south and north of west. Temperature 142 degrees and still a cool breeze blowing; sunset temperature 90 degrees, wind southward and strong. No appearance of Hodgkinson and party. The natives in a great stir here tonight about something—about a dozen of them crossed the lake to us after dark, wishing to camp near for the night; but as I did not approve of their movements in the evening immediately sent them off again.
Saturday, November 23.
At daylight wind strong from the east; temperature 80 degrees, at 5.30 a.m. blew quite a gale from south, the sky quite overcast and in every other part of the country would make preparations for a heavy fall of rain, but I have seen so much of this here that I don’t expect rain till I see it. Temperature noon 110 degrees, rain all blown past; at sunset wind still strong from south; temperature 84 degrees. No appearance of Hodgkinson’s party. Natives assembling in great numbers on this lake—distributed some beads, bracelets, and other trinkets amongst them, at which they seemed much pleased.
Sunday, November 24.
Wind south-east beautifully cool; temperature at sunrise 63 degrees; at noon in shade 84 degrees; at sunset wind south, temperature 76 degrees; cloudy. Hodgkinson not arrived.
Monday, November 25.
At 1.30 a.m. temperature 62 degrees; at sunrise temperature 58 degrees, wind east-south-east, beautifully cool; at noon temperature 106 degrees in the sun and wind; at sundown 82 degrees, gentle breeze.
Tuesday, November 26.
Wind east, at sunrise temperature 63 degrees; at noon in the shade temperature 79 degrees, very light breeze: temperature at 2.30 p.m. 110 degrees, wind west-north-west and cool; at sunset temperature 90 degrees, calm. No appearance of the party from Blanchewater.
Wednesday, November 27.
Calm at sunrise, temperature 60 degrees; at 9 a.m. 116 degrees in the sun; at 1 p.m. 118 degrees. Got the horses in the forenoon and went east three and a half miles; first three-quarters of a mile over sandhills, rest of the way over flooded ground to Goderannie Creek; not much water now; then to Palcooraganny. At present this is the dry bed of a small lake with plenty of dry clover and grasses in the dry bed. On the north-east side of the lake is a well dug by the natives about ten to eleven feet deep with about one foot of water at present in it and good. I suppose a considerable quantity could be had if the hole were enlarged. Close by there was an encampment of blacks, in all about a dozen, not the same apparent well-fed fellows that frequent the lakes and main creeks. From enquiry it appears that during the dry season this is the sort of water they have to depend upon, and I think the wells are few and far between. A high sandhill was some little distance off and to it I went; from the top of which I had an extensive
Thursday, November 28.
At daylight wind strong from south-south-east, at sunrise temperature 63 degrees. Enlarging and deepening the well. Temperature at noon in the sun and wind 106 degrees; at sunset 73 degrees. Finished the well, now being nine feet six inches deep, three and a half feet broad and five feet long. For the first four feet it was a mixture of light-coloured clay and fine sand, next three and a half feet was a mixture of gypsum and blue clay, next to bottom a little clay mixed with chiefly fine sand, then the water seemed to come in from all quarters. Party not yet arrived—exceedingly anxious about them.
Friday, November 29.
Wind south-south-east and cool at sunrise, temperature 54 degrees, being much lower than we have had it except once. There is a depth of ten inches of water in the well during twelve hours. At 7.30 a.m. two natives arrived on opposite side of the lake, bringing the joyous tidings that the party under charge of Mr. Hodgkinson had camped at a creek called Keradinti about eight miles from this last night, so that I expect them every hour—I was heartily glad to hear of them. At 9.30 a.m. Mr. Hodgkinson and party arrived safe, for which I was truly thankful; I was afraid something had happened to them from their apparent long absence. I am sorry that the native Jack, that accompanied them from this, deserted about the inner stations, having heard some idle report of something having happened to the party here. Mr. Hodgkinson has brought back with him nearly everything I required. By him I also received some Adelaide papers in which were some Melbourne telegrams, one of which announced the rescue by Mr. Howitt of one of Burke’s party, King, so that I have been deceived as to appearances at Lake Cadhibaerri respecting the different colours of hair found. Still I am under the impression that when Burke’s diary is published that it will show of some affray with the natives about that place, or they would not have acted towards us when there as they did. By receipt of such intelligence, and that now the whole of the
Saturday, November 30.
Wind south-south-east. Temperature at sunrise 70 degrees; depth of water in the well at 5 a.m. eighteen and a quarter inches. Temperature at noon 99 degrees in the sun and wind. Temperature at sunset 84 degrees; wind west of south a little cloudy; so it was last night.
Sunday, December 1.
A little rain during the night but not enough to wet a sheet of paper. At sunrise temperature 70 degrees, calm. At noon slight breeze southerly; temperature 110 degrees. Found suspended the spring of one of Terry’s breech-loading rifles round the neck of a native; he describes the remaining portions of the rifle out to the north-east, which will be nearly in our north course. Highest temperature during the afternoon in the sun 129 degrees; at sunset 99 degrees.
Monday, December 2.
Wind south-south-east, temperature at sunrise 77 degrees; sky completely overcast. Start out eastward to examine the country with two camels, five horses, and sufficient food for one and a half weeks, taking with me Middleton, Poole, Frank (a native), and a native of this place. My main object in going out now is firstly to ascertain if there is a likelihood of a flood down Cooper’s Creek this season, after all the rain that has fallen along the eastern side of the continent some months back, and which I thought possible might have fallen as well on and to west of coast range, so to secure to us an open retreat in the event of our being able to make some considerable advance northward, and being detained some time. And secondly to ascertain if anyone was as yet stationed on Cooper’s Creek, to intimate to them my intentions of proceeding northward for some distance, and the almost certainty of crossing any track of either of the search parties from the northern coast could possibly make en route to Cooper’s Creek or even Eyre’s Creek. Started at 9.15 a.m., and passed through nothing but sandhill and flooded flat country till 3 p.m., and arrived at Tac Wilten Creek, containing little water but drinkable. For the first few miles the sandhills were further apart with, in the interval, salt-bush and grassy flats. Watered the horses and camels; crossed the creek, passed up the south side; crossed a sandhill; crossed the creek, went a short distance to north side of creek; recrossed it and went up south side to water. This is a long narrow strip of water, not deep and drying up fast. A number of natives here. Crossed creek again and went to Aunrinnie; arrived at north-east end of water and crossed creek at 4.30 p.m. Distance about twenty-five miles. The water here although enough is quite unfit for use, the horses and camels refusing it; but there is good green feed in the flat.
Tuesday, December 3.
Started at 8 a.m.; passed over sandhills till 8.43 and made large lake, dry, Cullamun by name, destitute of vegetation and no margin of trees; passed over sandhills and flooded flat to a creek very broad, deep, and well defined by timber, and trending northward; not much water at present, good here but unfit for use above and below, like that of last night; creek called Agaboogana. Distance about eight miles. I went there rather out of my course to water the camels, being the nearest in going anything like the course I wished; passed sandhills through south end of large dry lake at 11.22, and again sandhills; then through large flooded swamp, Narrogoonnoo Mooku, with no marginal trees; southern end a good deal of cane grass; then again sandhills till 12.46; then large cracked flooded plain, Wandrabrinnannie, till arrived at a creek with no water; crossed and rode up creek on south side to east of north to Barka Water, no feed; got down into the bed of the creek and rode up about three-quarters of a mile to a water called Moollaney, pretty good; no great quantity and but little feed. Total distance about twenty-five miles. A lot of stones of a fruit found here, of a very ornamental little tree from six to fifteen feet high, which I have secured.
Wednesday, December 4.
At or rather before daylight Middleton, in attending to the camels, unfortunately got his foot seriously injured by a considerable-sized stick which was stuck in the ground; its end penetrating deeply into the foot as he was returning to the camp down the steep bank. I am afraid I will have to return with him; I have pulled out several ragged pieces of wood from the wound; a lot of small tendons protrude. I will try one day up the creek and see if he can stand it. Started at 9.40 leaving creek on right; crossed small flooded flat to sandhill; then good low sandhills, firm travelling; passed a water called Appomoremillia, about one and a half miles to our right in the creek. Crossed creek in the centre of a cracked flooded flat bearing to the north by west; passed over sandhills and a heavy flooded cracked and timbered flat in which is a creek bearing north-east with sandy hillocks and native wurlies. Bore south to creek Goonnooboorroo with little water. Distance about sixteen miles today. Middleton’s foot pains him much.
Thursday, December 5.
Obliged to camp with Middleton. On a large gum tree marked MK (conjoined) Dec. 4, 5, 1861. One large creek comes in here from the south; and immediately below this about 100 yards another from same quarter. Bronze-wing and crested pigeons here; also some beautiful parrots, black ducks, teal, whistlers, painted widgeons, and wood-duck in small number; also parakeets and quail. Some dry grass here on top of banks up to my waist; further out there is some good tussocky grasses and there has been plenty oats. Secured seeds from the bean tree and the stones of the fruit before alluded to. Fish in water here, although there is only a small quantity and drying up fast. In looking for the horses in the morning up the main creek found, about three-quarters of a mile from this, where Burke had camped in the bed and had dug for water. From the appearance of their camp and quantity of camel dung he slept more than one night here. I think when they camped there there was water both below and above; it is now quite dry however. A small quantity of sewing twine was found at this camp.
Friday, December 6.
Middleton’s foot a little easier; thought of returning as he is quite unfit for work, but have made up my mind now to go on and ascertain the facts I went out to obtain. I therefore started at 8.25 a.m. for the upper waters of the creek, keeping on the south bank; crossed several creeks until 12 o’clock, when we found in the camp, a little above Pardulli, a gum tree marked W.J. Wills, N.N.W., xlv. yds., A.H. Turned out our horses here for some time; between the last crossing of the creek and this I got a view of a couple of red sand bluffs and distant sandhills, or hills of some kind, to north-west. Started from Wills’s grave at 4.10 and crossed creek; struck the creek again at 5.35 with plenty of water to Howitt’s camp, xxxii.; thence on to Burke’s grave, striking dry creek and following it to Yarrowanda; arrived here at 7.10 p.m.
Saturday, December 7.
Started at 7.7 a.m. and came to Burke’s grave—about two miles on south bank of creek. On the north-east side of a box tree, at upper end of waterhole, native name Yaenimemgi, found marked on tree R.O’H.B., 21-9-61., A.H. Deposited a document in case of the return of any party. Saw a cobby horse on arrival here last night; tried to catch him. Saw the tracks of cattle up the creek, short distance from him; they had gone further up the creek to a water, Cullimuno. Spelled today.
Sunday, December 8.
Started back for camp; passed large numbers of natives; marked small gum sapling MK roughly; made for heavy creek that joins another at Strzelecki’s Creek, and camped at a water called Tacdurrie, a small water about two miles from Gooneborrow in the main creek. Distance travelled today about twenty-seven and a half miles.
* * *
[Copy of document left at Cooper’s creek, dated 7th December, 1861.]
To the Leader of the party out for the remains of the lost Burke and Wills, but more especially to the officer in charge of the depot likely to be formed on this creek.
Sir,
I beg to state that I have had communication with Adelaide and have received papers from there intimating the relief of King, the only survivor of the Melbourne Gulf of Carpentaria party, and an announcement that the Melbourne Government were likely to have the remains of the late gentlemen removed from this creek to Melbourne, to receive a public burial and monument to their memory, and at the same time stating their intention of establishing a depot somewhere on this creek to await the arrival of one or other of the parties (in search of the late Burke and Wills) from Rockhampton, or the Albert, on the Gulf of Carpentaria.
I beg to state I am with my party stationed on a lake about eighty-five miles westerly of this; and immediately on my return there I start northward, and for the first part of my journey a little to east of north, and will, at every suitable camp on my route, bury documents conveying the intelligence meant to be conveyed to either of the parties, by the depot party likely to be formed here, of the fate of the late party; by which means they will be put in possession of the facts, and can return to the Albert or go on through to Adelaide. There is at present, and will be for some time to come, easy access to Adelaide by my route, which the wheel tracks of my cart have clearly defined.
By this means of intimation to the parties in question it will relieve the party to be stationed here from the necessity of passing a summer in this hot region. My course will intersect any course either of the parties out from the northward can make between Eyre’s Creek and the late Burke’s depot on this creek.
I beg to remain, Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
John MCKINLAY,
Leader of the S.A.B.R. Expedition.
* * *
Monday, December 9.
Started at 7.25 a.m.; followed creek down and passed Goonaboorroo waterhole; passed flooded cracked flats and sandhills to Molanny Creek. Distance travelled today seventeen miles.
Tuesday, December 10.
Started and crossed creek at 7.30 a.m., over sandhills, then through bed of large dry lake or swamp; name of swamp Wando Binannie; a good deal cracked and bad travelling. From thence through low sandhills, flooded box flats, steep sandhills; crossed Narro Dhaerrie swamp; crossed creek at east end of main water; this drying up fast. Crossed creek twice and camped on south side of lower end of Tac Welter.
Wednesday, December 11.
Started at 6.30; crossed creek and flat; over sandhills and flooded flat with large saltbush and polygonum; timber to the right and some samphire bushes; crossed my old single track, with alternate sandhills and cracked flooded flats, and arrived at our depot camp on Lake Buchanan at 11 a.m. Distance about nineteen miles.
Thursday, December 12.
Remain in camp; temperature at sunrise 68 degrees; wind east; 11.30 a.m., temperature 165 degrees in the sun out of the wind; very hot indeed and wind north-east; dead calm at 6 p.m.; temperature 100 degrees; sun overcast; temperature at sunset thermometer exposed to sun and wind 90 degrees.
Friday, December 13.
Dead calm at sunrise; temperature 64 degrees; at 7 a.m. wind north-east temperature 102 degrees; at 9.15 wind north temperature 150 degrees in the sun and out of the wind; at 10.30 temperature 158 degrees; at noon hot; wind west; temperature 138 degrees; sunset light breeze from south-west; temperature 95 degrees.
Saturday, December 14.
Started at 7.45 a.m.; crossed sandhills and timbered flat and creek running north about 200 yards wide; passed end of very stunted box-tree flat running parallel to our course and camped on creek with little water.
Sunday, December 15.
Started at 8.8 a.m.; passed through long dry grass with scrubby box; then flooded box flats to Paul Cooroogannie and reached depot at 6.5 p.m. It blew quite a gale of wind during the day from south-south-west with dust and a few drops of rain.
Monday, December 16.
Wind changed to east (strong); temperature at 7 a.m. 65 degrees; wind moderated during the day. Making ready to start tomorrow.
Tuesday, December 17.
Deposited memos to Chief Commissioner of Crown Lands and finders of deposits under a tree here marked MK (conjoined) from Oct. 20 to Dec. 17, 1861. Dig arrow at 1 o’clock. Bullock dray started at 8.30 a.m., eight bullocks in team and three loose; crossed north end of swamp; then small sandhills; then creek or watercourse cutting my course at rightangles; passed south end of considerable-sized flooded flat, connected by last-named watercourse. Pole of cart just broken. Left cart and proceeded with some of party to Goonyanie Creek. Great difficulty in getting a suitable stick for the pole; sent Mr. Hodgkinson and Palmer with the bullocks back to our late camp on Coodygodyannie to get a pole there if possible; left bullocks there for the night. They returned unsuccessful. Hunted Goonyanie Creek up and down myself with but indifferent result, but must cut one such as is to be found and make shift with it till a better can be procured. A great number of natives here; the creek northward ceases one quarter mile from this and loses itself on a polygonum plain—no doubt forms again. South of this it continues for about one and a half to two miles and is lost on flooded flat. There appears to be a great quantity of fish here; some very fine ones being caught this afternoon, one of which must have weighed from four to five pounds (a perch). Although the water here is very much reduced since I was here about the middle of October the water in two holes is yet pretty deep; no great quantity of grass here.
Wednesday, December 18.
Natives walking about greater part of last night. Two of them came into camp, one of whom was known and allowed to remain; the other (a stranger) was started at once. At their camp, which was about one hundred yards off, they kicked up a great row for a long time. Started Mr. Hodgkinson with Palmer and a native to Lake Coodygodyannie for the bullocks, and Davis and Wylde out to the broken cart (about three miles off) with water, on two camels, for the party left in charge of it, namely Kirby and Maitland, today increased by Wylde on account of so many natives. The bullocks duly arrived during the day, having gone back to the old camp. Immediately proceeded to cut such a pole as was to be had here, and took it out to the dray to be got in readiness to suit as well as possible the purpose required, and returned to camp with the bullocks.
Thursday, December 19.
During the night a native dog came up to the sheepfold and was shot by Frank (a native). The natives, encamped a short distance from here, hearing the report of the gun, immediately took to flight and with them the native Bullingani who was of so much use to me; however another is easily got. Some of them returned in the morning. Temperature during afternoon in sun 145 degrees. Was unable to get dray ready early enough to go a stage, but brought it in here in the afternoon, ready for an early start tomorrow morning.
Friday, December 20.
Marked a tree on north bank MK (conjoined), Dec. 17, 18, 19, 1861. Temperature at sunrise 78 degrees. Sky completely overcast. Found Frank asleep on duty and reprimanded him, when he became saucy and sulky and determined to return to settled districts. Settled with him to date. He was twelve weeks with us and received an order for 6 pounds, being the amount due to him at the rate of ten shillings per week. Started and passed through flats till we came to a creek where we stopped for a short time; crossed creek to the margin of a lake bed containing some water. Went north some distance to get round the lake to where the creek is dry. This creek fills this lake—Goonaidrangannie. Camped on north-east end at 1 p.m. There are a great number of natives here; the water appears very deep. Mr. Hodgkinson swam out about 300 yards with a plumb-line and found the depth 10 1/4 feet; but further south and east it is much deeper. This lake must be at times a great rendezvous for natives in extreme drought. One of our best working bullocks, before he came ten miles, was killed by the heat although, after getting to camp at 1 p.m., the thermometer was tried and the greatest heat arrived at was 144 degrees. I was not aware that the bullock was dead until the arrival of the cart later in the afternoon. The driver, seeing he was much exhausted, had him and the one and the one yoked with him turned out of the team, and went on a short distance and sent back for them, however, shortly after, when the animal was found quite dead—consequently we were unable to secure any of him for food as it would not keep; but at daylight in the morning I will send for his hide as it will be much needed. He will be a serious loss to us out in such a country where we require a spare bullock to spell another occasionally. A good deal of thunder and great indications for rain, but blows off with only a few drops; quite a hot wind and altogether has been a very disagreeable day. Wind from north.
Saturday, December 21.
Started three men out to skin the bullock and bring in the hide. Wind south; sky overcast but hardly expect rain. Tree marked MK (conjoined), 20-12-61 on south side. The men returned with the hide at 8.10 a.m. The bullocks, after their distress of yesterday, were left unhobbled and have strayed to some distance, not having come up yet at this hour—8.10 a.m. Bullocks arrived, and we started at 10.20 a.m. Camels and horses started at 12 o’clock. Came through some splendid feed to another lake containing but very little water and that quite bitter. Start for Moolionboorrana at 3 p.m., and arrived there at 5.53 p.m. Distance about twelve and a half miles; first half distance was flooded flats and sand-ridges. On our way to Thoorabiengannie at four and a half miles made the bed of a dry lake, Tiedhenpa, with splendid feed and park-like appearance of considerable extent. The remaining part of the distance was
Sunday, December 22.
At daylight sent Mr. Hodgkinson, Bell, and a native with four horses to cart, to know cause of detention, etc. Unfortunately the thermometer got broken yesterday which will prevent in future our ascertaining the temperature of the interior, which is much to be regretted as no doubt it would interest many. Wind south. Bullock cart got to camp at 8.20 a.m. having had an upset. Nothing particularly wrong with it. Sheep all right. Will spell today to recruit bullocks and men that were with them, all having had to be on watch during the night as the natives were round and about them the whole time—for what purpose they did not know. At 8.30 wind chopped round to north-north-east and very warm. This lake is circular and almost without timber; but is a fine sheet of water and will stand the weather well. There is a great deal of soda in it. It is about two and a half to three miles long from north to south and about two miles from east to west; the creek that supplies it (filling it from north-west end) coming from north. The bullocks are so jaded with the heat of the past two days and the heavy nature of the ground that they have hardly left the water during the day without being driven; they even went so far as to go out and lie down in it for hours.
Monday, December 23.
Wind north-north-east; sky very much overcast to southward and round by west to north. Bullocks started at 7.40 a.m. I started with native at the same time and reached the Creek Gadhungoonie, with a considerable quantity of water and fully half a mile in length; but so thoroughly bitter and salty that it was quite unfit for man or beast. Must now start out to another creek some distance off (by report) although I meant to give the bullocks a short day of it. Spelled till the camels came up and started on to Abberanginnie Lake Creek, or rather I believe, Watthiegurtie Creek, which is the creek that fills the lake—the
Tuesday, December 24.
At daylight sent Mr. Hodgkinson to the cart with a packhorse and two canteens of water, and to point out a more firm place for the cart to cross Watthiegurtie Creek than where we crossed the camels and horses, it being very boggy. A vast number of natives here, and upon the whole about the finest race I have seen in the colonies, and at present apparently friendly. Any quantity of fish and hundreds of pelicans. This country is fit for any description of stock and, with anything like a moderate supply of rain, would be most excellent country; even as it is it is not equalled to the southward as far as Kanyaka, Mr. Phillip’s station near Mount Brown. Mr. Hodgkinson found a better crossing for the cart a little north, and it arrived here in safety at 12.30 p.m.—they found a little drinkable water last night. Kirby, with the sheep, got astray today but was soon picked up again and brought to camp about sunset by Wylde and Bell.
Wednesday, December 25.
Christmas Day; wind variable, principally from the south, but warm. Natives were prowling in numbers about our camp late last night. I sent up a rocket that exploded well and had the desired effect, causing a general rush of the whole of the sable gentry towards their camp, which latter in their fear did not check their mad career until they found there was no pursuit; but today they again came up to our camp quite unconcerned as if nothing had happened—better it should be so as no doubt I shall find them of great use in pointing out the principal waters within their knowledge. Spelling to recruit everybody and everything, and hope to make a good start tomorrow morning. Had an excellent dinner of roast mutton and plum pudding and did not envy anyone in the City of Adelaide.
Thursday, December 26.
MK (conjoined), Decr. 23, 24, 25. Dig. Arrow at 7 o’clock. Documents deposited for relief party under tree marked as above. Wind strong south-south-east. All the animals right this morning; started the bullocks and sheep at 7.45, rounding the north end of lake—my course is right through it bearing 89 degrees for Lake Dhalinnie. At two and a half miles came to creek that falls into this one we are now encamped on; go up it half a mile north-east to cross it; sent the cart round by the creek to be on level ground whilst I go direct to Dhalinnie. At four and a half miles clear the lake, and at three and a half miles further arrive at the Lake Dhalinnie—a treeless lake, fully a mile from north to south and little better than half a mile from east to west. Appam Barra from this bears 4 degrees, Cannboogonanni camp 269 degrees. Started at 10.11 a.m. to meet the cart on a bearing of about 330 degrees to take them to Appam Barra; meet the camp 10.30 and go on a bearing of 6 1/2 degrees for Appam Barra at 10.40. After spelling ten minutes crossed creek at 11.53; at 12.10 got to Appam Barra Creek, well filled with water, going north-north-west from north-north-east, then round to south-south-east and south, in the distance filling a few lakes in its course on coming from the first quarter—a considerable number of natives here. Went on the north-north-east course one and a quarter miles on bearing of 8 degrees; camped immediately beyond where a branch leaves the main creek going southward—a good-sized creek about, at its junction, seventy yards wide and fifteen feet deep; main creek about one hundred yards wide and twenty to twenty-five feet deep; lots of mussels, crayfish, and fish of all sorts. No great abundance of feed here nor is the country so good as has been passed, having a very desert and sterile appearance with a jumble of sandhills, flooded land, and a considerable quantity of samphire bushes, large saltbush, polygonum, and other shrubs. The natives (a fine body of men) whether from curiosity or otherwise, were with much difficulty got away from the camp at night.
Friday, December 27.
Wind north-east; the animals went straying some considerable distance and were late in being recovered (4.30 p.m.) having gone back to last camp, therefore we did not get a start today. Half of the horses broke and lost their hobbles; and the loss of chains is serious as they cannot be replaced here.
Saturday, December 28.
Not a breath of wind at daylight. Distributed yesterday to natives (fifty-three) necklaces, etc.; there was a considerable number more men present in the morning but they had gone somewhere before the distribution. They are a splendid lot of people and in most excellent condition, much better than the appearance of the country here would warrant. They appear friendly but were about during last night. A large flight of galahs just passing. Gulls, pigeons, and ducks of all sorts abound. It was
Sunday, December 29.
Camp at Wattiwidulo, or Lake Hodgkinson. Just where we are encamped by it it does not appear to be deep, but to the south and west I fancy there is a good deal of water. Wind south-west and exceedingly hot and sultry. In the afternoon an old man arrived here from our old depot and reported that a party of whites had arrived at the late depot with a number of horses and were on their way this course from the settled districts. What faith to put in the report it is difficult to say. Ready to start east in the morning.
Monday, December 30.
Sky very much overcast and very sultry; wind from north-east. Started at 8.10 with two camels and five horses and a week’s provisions. At four and a half miles got to Appambarra, near old camp at the dray crossing. At 8.45 arrived at about one mile west of dry lake Toondowlowannie; centre bearing of lake north and south, three miles, by a width east and west of one and a half miles; well grassed. At ten and a quarter miles passed south end of lake and travelled on flooded ground on west side of Cariderro Creek, in which there is water, to where we cut the Cariderro Creek, about sixteen miles, at a place in the creek where the large creek branches off east and fills a large lake now dry; abundance of feed. Lake called Marcourgannie and found water in creek—a short distance south, from which quarter it appears to come—it is a splendid gum creek, from eighty to one hundred yards wide and fifteen to twenty feet deep, and flows a northward course. Started after spelling a time and went one and a quarter miles on bearing of 239 degrees to Appadarannie, now a dry lake with abundance of good feed in its bed; then went south by east eight miles along the Cariderro Creek. It is a splendid one and well lined with fine gumtrees, and as far as we went I may say was one continuous sheet of water, and with not less than from 200 to 300 natives. I have named it Browne Creek after W.H. Browne, Esquire. Many of the natives have apparently quite white hair and beards; they were particularly anxious that we should encamp with them; they were the first tribe that we fell in with so fully armed, every man with a shield and a lot of boomerangs and some with spears. I thought it better not to camp there as they had a good deal of sneaking and concealing themselves from bush to bush, and might have brought about a disturbance, which I did not desire. Took some water in air bags and started out from the creek one and a quarter miles; then on a bearing of 5 degrees for Appacalradillie lake, seven miles fully. Crossed and camped on east corner of dry lake Marcourgannie, and on the margin of the dry lake Merradaboodaboo; the bulk of this last lake bearing north from this and splendidly grassed.
Tuesday, December 31.
Started at 6.30 a.m. to Appacalradillie lake, through side of Lake Merradaboodaboo; passed several flooded flats proceeding east from last-named dry lake—the first of which was an extensive one, passing on our course from left round to the right and apparently round to south as far as visible, then over alternate and indifferent flats and large sandhills—a considerable deal of flooded land to the westward. At fifteen miles arrived on top of a very prominent sandhill which I have named Mount MacDonnell, from which hill opens out to our view two beautiful lakes which, in honour of her Ladyship and His Excellency the present Governor of South Australia, I have named respectively Lake Blanche and Lake Sir Richard, separated by a small sandy rise through which passes a small channel that connects them, and which I have named New Year’s Straits.
Wednesday, January 1, 1862.
Started at 6.45 round the first lake, Blanche (Lady MacDonnell) to where the creek passes through a low sandhill and connects it with the other lake, Sir Richard (His Excellency the Governor). The first-named of these lakes is, where it was tried, between five and six feet deep and seven and three-quarter miles in circumference, nearly circular, bare of timber, and tens of thousands of pelicans on it, one solitary swan, with innumerable other birds, gulls and ducks of various kinds (one new and one dark brown large-winged), cormorants, avocats, white spoonbills, crows, kites, pigeons and magpies of various kinds, and plenty of fish. The other lake immediately adjoins and its south-east end is more to the eastward than Lake Blanche, it is nearly circular and is six and three-quarter miles in circumference, but when casually tried was not quite five feet deep; pelicans, birds of kinds, fish, etc., as the other. Between forty and fifty men (natives) came to meet us as we were passing round the lakes at the creek, which they had all to swim and, from the appearance of the camp some short distance off, there could not have been less than about 150, all apparently friendly. Started from north-west end of Lake Sir Richard and went along the course of the creek that fills these lakes on a bearing of 305 degrees for —— miles; then south-south-west half a mile to a fine basin of water in the valley of the creek, three-quarters of a mile wide and more than that in length, and opening again and contracting alternately up to Lake Blanche which, in honour of the veteran explorer, I have named Sturt’s Ponds; abundance of fish and fowls. From this point course 308 degrees up the creek for four miles; at two miles a creek went off to the right through a flooded flat, thence on a course varying from 224 to 239 degrees, principally through what was recently a large lake—now a splendidly-grassed plain of vast extent, and at the latter part a few small sandhills. Distance today thirty-six miles.
Thursday, January 2.
At camp and keeping the New Year instead of yesterday. It is quite a treat to sit on the banks of this fine sheet of water and look at the innumerable waterfowl on its surface chasing their prey.
Friday, January 3.
Heavy dew. Started out this morning with two camels and five horses to examine some lakes and creeks to west and south of this position; I take with me Mr. Hodgkinson, Middleton, Wylde, and native. On my return intend moving camp to north and east to where I saw the creek bearing off to the right or north-east from about two miles north-west of Sturt’s Ponds; which creek I am led to believe runs off into the interior by north on the round by west and south, passing my old depot, Lake Buchanan. On second thoughts I have moved camp to a better place on this lake, north, on the opposite side, where there is better shade, and the glare of the sun less injurious
Saturday, January 4.
Camp, Lake Hodgkinson. Shoeing horses, repairing pack-bags, etc.
Sunday, January 5.
I, with Poole and a black, went out north to see what the country was like. On bearing 360 degrees over sandhills arrived at and found lake dry; four and a half miles of stones around it, same as in stony desert; went through the middle of it, it sweeps round from north-east to south-west; passed through it where it was two miles broad, it is fed from Lake Goonalcarae (now dry); the lake passed through has not had a supply of water for years apparently; lots of dead mussels and crayfish in its bed. At two and a half miles further (nine miles in all) over sandhills, changed course to 16 degrees for a large sandhill in the distance, the country to the north being rather low. At two and a half miles on this course came upon a succession of flooded basins, some of great extent, Gnatowullie, and slightly lined with stunted box, some as high up the sides of the sandhills as forty-five to fifty feet, entirely supplied by the rains but have not had a supply for some time, as there was neither water nor vegetation; which flooded basins continued till I went nine miles on this last course and from the top of the hill could distinctly see the beds of innumerable others of the same kind. From west round to north-east and east some dark-peaked sandhills, north-east of last course, as far as I could discern with the aid of a glass; turned back on course of 200 degrees to where I saw some shady box trees about two and a half miles, and turned out horses to rest and went to camp direct. On bearing of 187 degrees at five and a half miles came to the watercourse that supplies the dry lake Marroboothana from Goonalcarae, which I have named the Ellar, and the creek that fills it, in which there is at present water, Ellar’s Creek.
Monday, January 6.
Marked tree MK (conjoined), from 3 to 6-62, Dig arrow at 7 o’clock, and deposited a document in tin envelope for the search parties from the north coast. Started at 6.30 with the bullock-cart, the horses and camels following, for Lakes Lady Blanche and Sir Richard, for the purpose of following the creek I observed when there the other day, and which the natives inform me goes northward, then westward and southward, through the stony desert. Arrived about 3.30 by rather a circuitous route to the northward of our proper course, but was guided that way to avoid many heavy sandhills. Distance between twenty-two and twenty-three miles.
Tuesday, January 7.
At Lake Blanche; went out north with Mr. Hodgkinson and native to examine the creek alluded to, but to my disappointment found that it only formed a large valley and, at some distance on a dry lake, Millie Millie, to the eastward of Lake Sir Richard, over some high sandhills; returned very much chagrined and have made up my mind to stay here a short time, although very poor shelter from the excessive heat of the sun (today even it blows as if from a furnace) and endeavour with the camels to ascertain the description of country first to the east, and probably also from here, if the camels will stand it, to the north; from the appearance of the country about here I do not expect any water at least for some distance; the land low, hills between the two lakes and running northward for some five or six miles have just the appearance of dirty drift snow heaps with heath bushes protruding; whereas those round to north-east, east, south, and south-east are a glaring red, with coarse grass and shrubs. Shortly after my return today a number of natives got the bullocks on the east side of the creek New Year Straits, about two and a half miles from camp and raced them round Lake Blanche from us in sight; on seeing which five of the party got mounted and armed and went after them; they had taken the bullocks two-thirds of the way round the lake and by some means they broke back from them; they did their best to overtake and turn them again for about two or three miles; when they observed the horsemen they immediately took to flight, and where shelter was so abundant, of course, were immediately out of reach and sight of the horsemen. What their intentions were was difficult to say but it looked rather suspicious; took the bullocks to camp late and hobbled most of them. The evening before leaving Lake Hodgkinson, about 8.30 p.m., they took both horses and bullocks and raced them round from us for about three miles but were pursued on foot by three of the party who succeeded in getting all the bullocks and horses after having broken three-fourths of their chains, and were in a very excited state, nor could the horses be quieted for more than two hours afterwards, but the wary savage was nowhere to be seen.
Wednesday, January 8.
Moved camp about three-quarters of a mile to a little
wood and camped.
Fearfully hot, wind east-north-east.
Thursday, January 9.
Camp, Lake Blanche, between the two lakes, where one would imagine the breeze from such a body of water would render the air cool, but the heat is almost intolerable. Wind from east-north-east to east-south-east blew quite a gale in the night, levelling tents, etc., to the earth, accompanied with a good deal of thunder and lightning and slight spitting of rain for a few minutes, when it ceased. The gale kept on for two and a half hours and gradually died away.
Friday, January 10.
Camp, Lake Blanche. One would suppose that after so much thunder and lightning the air would be more pure and cool, but nothing of the kind was apparent, nothing but intense heat, prostrating all the animals. Horses and sheep taking refuge from the intense rays of the sun round and under such bushes or trees they could get till the cool of the evening. Wind light easterly. I sincerely wish we had a change of the weather, warmer it cannot get, so that the change must be for the better, and enable us to be doing something. This is far from the most agreeable position for a camp for, although we have any quantity of water, we have no shade, and the glare reflected from the low light-coloured sandhills and flats is very trying to the eyes; even the natives who are a numerous body here (150 to 200) scarcely stir out, except morning and evening for fishing, fish being their chief sustenance with addo, Burke’s nardoo.
Saturday, January 11.
Sun rose red as a ball of fire. We had a magnificent sunset last night; wind chopping all round the compass; intense heat; fleecy clouds.
Sunday, January 12.
Camp, Lake Blanche. Before daylight a considerable deal of thunder and lightning. Squally but passed off without any rain. Cloudy during the day. Wind from all quarters, heat intense, and sultry towards evening, threatened much for rain; wind from east to north-east, accompanied with thunder and lightning. I sincerely trust that we may have a good fall of it, if it comes at all. Rain all blew past and wind chopping in all directions.
Monday, January 13.
Wind from all quarters but rather more cool than for the last few days. If nothing particular occurs before tomorrow morning will make a start out eastward for fifty or sixty miles to see what sort of country it is, and if there is any main creek running north up through it. It is very calm towards evening with heavy clouds all round the horizon.
Tuesday, January 14.
Eastward today over undulations, sandhills, claypans, and flats for nineteen miles till we reached a very prominent high hill which I have called Mount Wylde. A considerable range is visible to east and south of east. Went on for seven miles further over sand ridges covered with spinifex, successive box-covered flooded flats, formed by heavy rains, through which were innumerable small creeks no doubt in heavy rains
Wednesday, January 15.
Every appearance of a hot day. Followed over hard sand undulations, well-grassed with some little spinifex intermixed, with a creek on our left, and crossed it at eight miles going south-east then apparently south—gum and box on creek and a sandy bed. We then passed over some good grassed country with stony flats and latterly a stony sandhill, the ascent difficult for the camels on account of the sharp stones for ten miles; distance making in all eighteen miles. Low hills about six or seven miles ahead running north and south; nothing very marked about them. The heat fearful; camels not doing so well as I could wish so will give them all the water that is to spare and proceed towards camp this evening in the cool—they won’t feed nor stay without constant watching. Started back at 8.30 p.m. Went first to the south of west to avoid a stony hill by going round a valley then went on for about fifteen miles.
Thursday, January 16.
Started at 6 a.m., then bore for Mount Wylde. The greater portion of last night’s and today’s journey was over spinifex country. Passed immediately after starting a couple of creeks, drainage to the north—whether they continued that course and gradually swerved to the east and joined a larger one under the main range to east and formed one and passed on to the southward to Cooper’s Creek, or formed rainwater lakes (vast numbers of them here and well timbered and often visited by natives) I cannot pretend to say. From Mount Wylde came in on the lakes on our outward track and arrived at camp at 2 p.m. Found some of the party, namely Bell, Davis, and Maitland, laid up with dysentery, the former seriously. Have made up my mind to leave this after one day’s spell for the camels and go back to different water, as this must contain some medicinal properties that I am ignorant of, and affects all of us more or less; no doubt the weather has a good deal to do with it—the heat is fearful.
Friday, January 17.
Wind east by north. If nothing particular occurs will start from this in the morning as I see nothing can be done here but going north for some distance, and that I can do from where I proceed tomorrow as well as from here, and with better water for the party. Excessively hot and sultry today and very cloudy. We have more or less lightning every day or night and it appears occasionally to be raining all round us but never gives us a benefit. Blew strong from south-east all night. Marked tree MK (conjoined), fm. 6 to 18-1-62.
Saturday, January 18.
Wind from south-east. Bell very little improved, the rest much better. Bullocks up and yoked before sunrise. It appears to be gathering all round for rain but as usual I suppose will pass off without our being favoured with any. The natives lately have hardly ever visited the camp; I suppose their curiosity was satiated after the first few days, and when they found they could not drive off the animals without being heard or observed, and the probable consequences, they thought proper to keep aloof. Start this morning for Goonalcarae Creek, or Ellar’s Creek, where there is abundance of fine feed, water, and protection from the excessive heat of the sun. Bullocks start at 7 a.m.; passed on our right the recently-dried bed of a very nice lake, and so deceptive was it from its appearance some distance off that even the natives insisted that there was still water in it, but there was not any. The lake I have called Deception—it is a nice lake and retains water for a very long time. I pushed on through the flooded and well-grassed bed of Goonalcarae, or Ellar’s Swamp. First went on a westerly course then on a southerly to the creek, but did not admire the water which was neither abundant nor sweet, although there were innumerable birds and some natives there. Went on to Lake Hodgkinson and was astonished to find it so much dried up in only twelve days, that being the time since we left it, and the water now quite bitter; then went on to Hayward’s Creek that fills Lake Hodgkinson, and there found abundance of everything that we required—feed, water, wood, and shelter from the broiling sun. The dray did not get this length but camped on east end of lake, and obtaining for their use water, by digging, at four feet from the surface, good and clear; the cart will come on here in the morning and I shall remain here till there is a change in the weather as it is fearfully trying; there has been a shower on our course since we passed on our way to Lakes Blanche and Sir Richard, but nothing of any consequence. The horses were more done up today than I have yet seen them from the oppressive heat.
Sunday, January 19.
Dray came in about noon; a considerable number of natives here on creek.
Monday, January 20.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek; wind very strong from north-east to south-east.
Tuesday, January 21.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek; wind chopping all round; heavy rain apparently to the north and north-east, but little of it came this way; gave the native who has been with us so long an old ewe to distribute amongst his friends.
Wednesday, January 22.
At daylight a Scotch mist from south; by 7 a.m. it came on a steady rain and lasted till 8.15 a.m., when it cleared off, still appearing to rain to north-east and west of this. Clear to the south with the wind from latter quarter; during remainder of the day weather cleared up in all quarters with a south wind, although a good many clouds are flying about. Went round the lake to see what quantity of water was likely to be in the claypans where it fell the heaviest yesterday; there is not so much as I expected but still I will start out north tomorrow to ascertain the nature of the country and see if there be any watercourse in that direction that may hereafter be of use to parties wishing to pass to the north coast; but from what I saw to the east, and the country between that and this, I have very little hope of anything of the kind, but believe there is a creek to the westward of this that either comes from or goes to a latitude beyond and east of Sturt’s furthest.
Thursday, January 23.
Started out at 11.30 a.m.; got to the top of a sandhill on north side of Lake Hodgkinson about six miles from camp; camp bearing about 175 degrees; passed (dry) Lake Marraboothana; then through flats and basins, a large one cutting our course. Changed course and came to a dry creek called Pantyhwurladgie; then on a bearing of 284 degrees over stony desert for a large sandhill; a little water back about two miles from whence we shall have to send for it amongst the stones. Total distance travelled about thirty-three miles; to the north-east and south all stones, but sandhills bound the two latter quarters; beyond the termination of large sandhill there is nothing visible. To the west is a succession of sandhills running north and south, and terminating in desert and stony plains. Round to 348 degrees; in the distance are to be seen some terminations of inconsiderable sandhills.
Friday, January 24.
The country being short of water I merely go out today to return tomorrow; leaving here all the rations I intended for the journey northward, which for the present I had abandoned with the intention at a more suitable time to try it. Natives are with me but they declare it to be all dry; but I cannot rely on their statements at all times. The water, our supply for today, is about two miles off in the desert; our journey being over a succession of very high sandhills and stony flooded flats; skirting, for the first three-quarters of an hour, the desert to this spot, with a large red-topped sandhill on our right which terminates close by; have not seen a drop of water during the day and camp without it. I return tomorrow early for the last water which will be nearly dried up by the time I reach it. Distance travelled today twenty-four miles. Tops of all the hills to north-east and east are very red, quite free from vegetation on tops and some with spinifex on their sides. To north, termination of sandhills with stony flats;
Saturday, January 25.
Started back and got to water just in time to give the horses about half as much as they could drink and a little for ourselves; rapid evaporation has taken place since we left yesterday, for then there was enough for 100 horses, now there is not half enough for our eight; so must make for one of the permanent waters south of this tomorrow; have to close-hobble our horses and tie their heads down to them to prevent them straying too far. Strong breeze from the southward.
Sunday, January 26.
Started at 7 a.m. for Coonhadie, a rainwater watering-place in desert, but found it quite dry; start for camp, Hayward’s Creek, and arrived at 1 p.m.; distance about twenty-nine and a quarter miles direct from place to place, but we made it more, being obliged to go round to avoid sandhills and rounding Lake Hodgkinson. The horses stood much in need of water and seemed to enjoy it much, from quantity they drank and the time they took about it. It was fortunate for us that the weather was cool for the season of the year. Wind south and east; found all right at the camp and the men that were ailing much improved. The water in the creek is diminishing gradually, about three-quarters of an inch per day.
Monday, January 27.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Wind easterly. Natives very much displeased at our remaining here but until the weather suits my purpose better than it does at present they must put up with it.
Tuesday, January 28.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Wind east and south, very hot. Several of the party still complaining, the cause of which is difficult to say as the water in the creek appears good and there is plenty of it. The water in the creek is between five and six miles long. There is a lake or swamp rapidly drying up close by, from which there is a very disagreeable odour when the wind is from that quarter; the ailing may proceed from the malaria arising from that place; other waters in the immediate neighbourhood drying up fast. Natives in a great state of excitement today, wishing to inform me that the flood, or arimitha, was coming down and that we must get out of this or we should be drowned (I only wish it would come) stating that it had now reached as far as a place I know well, so tomorrow will make it my business to ride over that length to the south and east to Browne’s Creek to ascertain the truth or otherwise of this information.
Wednesday, January 29.
Wind north and east. Started with Middleton to ascertain if the flood is really coming down or not; followed this creek round my way and was quite astonished at the number of natives I saw—they must have been considerably over three hundred—and I am satisfied that I did not see them all as I did not go quite up to their camp; we had no conception that there were any such numbers so close to us, a distance of only some six or seven miles. There are myriads of fish of various kinds. There was a camp close by till yesterday, within less than half a mile, but I never saw more than one hundred in it at one time—averaging from forty to sixty. They pass our camp with their nets to drag the creek between this and the lake, and come back loaded with the denizens of the creek; they are not at all liberal with them. I should be sorry to trust to their hospitality or generosity as I think they possess but little of either of those qualities. Arrived at Browne’s Creek, at the place named by natives for the arrival of the flood, but found their tale false—they saw me on my way there and I suppose knew my errand—some of shallowest waters in the upper holes of the creek had dried up since I saw them last but there is abundance lower down.
Thursday, January 30.
Wind east. Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Natives kept much aloof today, I suppose in consequence of my finding their piece of gratuitous information false. Self and all the party affected with griping and vomiting with the exception of Middleton and Davis. Cannot make out the cause; I wish it would rain that I could start through the desert out of this and get on to the waters to north and west of this, and be doing something, as this sort of life is worse than hard work on the constitution. There is one thing, this detention here has enabled us to have the backs of the working animals attended to better than we could otherwise have done, and they are all on splendid feed, but the flies and excessive heat of the sun is very much against the healing of any kind of sores or wounds. I had occasion to bleed several of the horses and, from the mere incision caused by the fleam, the necks of several swelled up very much although every precaution was adopted.
Friday, January 31.
Started out to pick an easy track for the cart towards Moolianbrooana Lake; found a pretty good one on to the old cart tracks which will do; went then to ascertain how the waters were standing in Caunboogonannie, or Lake Jeannie, and found that, although there was still a very considerable quantity in the lake from the vast number of waterfowl upon it, and perhaps other causes, it had acquired a disagreeable taste, and I have no doubt that it will get quite unfit for use in a month or so if it does not receive a fresh supply during that time. From a hole dug about eighteen inches from the water’s edge I had a drink and a pot of tea of excellent water; lots of natives round and in the lake, although round the margin I observed innumerable small fish (parrow) dead, washed in by the wind and ripple of the lake. Our horses did not seem to admire the water but that I am not astonished at.
Saturday, February 1.
Hayward’s Creek. Wind east; party still ailing.
Sunday, February 2.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Some of party better and some worse. Wind easterly.
Monday, February 3.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Wind easterly; digging a well, in case the origin of our sickness be caused by the water in the creek.
Tuesday, February 4.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Wind north and gusty with hot puffs. Got the well down about fifteen feet; the lower part, for about seven or eight feet, chiefly through sand; abundance of water but salt to the taste and I think unfit for use. Had it emptied out when it soon filled; the water continues salt and lathers well with soap and can wash well; it cannot be used by us although the natives don’t despise it.
Wednesday, February 5.
Camp, Hayward’s Creek. Wind from east and west of north during the morning with hot gusts, very oppressive.
Thursday, February 6.
Camp, at Hayward’s Creek. Wind north till late in the afternoon with some thunder and lightning and a good many clouds; appears in the distance to be raining in patches, but I have so often been deceived that I now take less notice of appearances of that kind; late in the afternoon the wind chopped round to south. Has been very hot and sultry all day. Intend in the morning to send Mr. Hodgkinson and Middleton to Lake Goonaidringinnie to ascertain for certain if that lake still contains abundance of water, and good, as I think it does—and on the way to pass and examine Lake Moolionboorana to see if it will suit as a stage to camp at on our journey to Goonaidringinne, as it was not very deep when I was there last and I have my doubts about it. The natives report a considerable quantity of rain to have fallen to the east and towards north-east in the country north of Lakes Blanche and MacDonnell or Appacalradillie. If so I wish it had fallen when I was there that I might have been able to have examined the country there thoroughly.
Friday, February 7.
Started Mr. Hodgkinson and Middleton to Lake Goonaidringinnie. Wind from all points of compass with many clouds; weather disagreeable and sultry during the day; rained steadily once or twice during the night with a good deal of thunder and lightning in the distance; much rain must have fallen to east and north of east as well as to the south.
Saturday, February 8.
Splendid rain and steady. Thundering all round with every appearance of a considerable quantity of rain which will, I trust, come in such abundance as to enable me to push to the north-west across the desert, as up to this time I have been completely shut up, as it were, here for want of a decent shower to enable me to do anything of service anywhere; and the provisions gradually getting less although the ration is now as low as I can well make it. I have reduced it first from 8 pounds of flour per man per week to 7
Sunday, February 9.
Still raining a little and the ground too soft to travel over but, if much more does not fall, will start in the morning. The rain that has fallen is quite a godsend, both to this party and to the natives who have started off to the sandhills in all directions to obtain the lizards and other animals that escape to the sandhills for protection from the floods.
Monday, February 10.
Started the cart at 7.50 a.m., and horses and camels to start afterwards for Wattiegoroonita. Passed over sandhills to top of a sandhill that rounds the lake, and over alternate sandhills and bare flats for nine and a half miles, passing at about six miles on the last course a small salt lake; travelled on the north-east side of it as it was boggy. The lake is called Warmagoladhailie. The ground very soft and heavy travelling. Travelled along the sand ranges and over spinifex and stony flooded flats, then over one small sandhill and stony desert. Camped at a few bushes to boil the teakettle, there being not a blade of grass; but a few saltbushes are near which the animals must do the best with for one night. Astonishing the small quantity of water passed for the last eight or nine miles. Distance travelled today twenty-four miles. The natives are out here looking for the snakes and other small reptiles and animals that live in the sandhills everywhere in this quarter whether hot or cold, regardless of the want of water. This is a most dismal-looking camp; there are a few isolated sandhills north and west of this. Cart and sheep not up tonight.
Tuesday, February 11.
The cart did not arrive last night as above-mentioned for the reason that one of the bullocks was taken with the staggers. They camped about two and a half miles back and arrived here this morning at 5.45 a.m.; turned the bullocks out for a time to get a drink and pick a few bushes, and started again at 7.48. Travelled for nine miles over desert stony plains and got to top of large sandhill. This hill is called Cannacannanthainya. Some distance off another sandhill called Mallapoorponannie; and another not quite so far called Cookorda. Another long leading sand range in the distance called Goontyaerie, at the northern termination of which is at present a dry creek known by the above name. There is a native well there and another a little further west. To give the ailing bullock, as he is a good one, a chance of recruiting, I have dipped down the sandhill and camped at 11.35 a.m., and for another reason, it looks like rain. During the afternoon several nice showers.
Wednesday, February 12.
Steady rain for about four hours last night and this morning breaks fine and clear with a wind north. Plenty of water lying all over the desert. Dray started at 7.40 a.m. and at six and three-quarter miles distant got to Mallapoorponannie sand range, the southern end of which is called Cookorda; about two miles off its northern end dwindles down to nothing in the desert. To the northern end of Coontarie sand range a creek and well by the same name; about twelve miles off a detached sand range in the desert, at the north-west end of which are two waters named respectively Dhooramoorco and Moongaara; also on north-east side of sand range another water in creek called Caddryyerra, also a sand range about four to five miles distant. There was a number of small detached sandhills going round to the westward, then a perfect blank round to Coontarie well. At about three to four miles struck the flooded flat from the main creek I am now going to. At eleven and a half miles further came to and crossed a deep creek crossing my course at rightangles. At two miles further came to water in Daeragolie Creek, same creek that I crossed before two miles from this; within this last two miles the whole flat is cut up into innumerable channels most difficult to travel over, I must therefore see and get a better road for the cart. Here there is not a green blade of grass to be seen; there are some green shrubs in the bed of the creek that the camels are fond of. I arrived at this camp at 2.5 p.m.; distance travelled today twenty-three and a half miles. This is an immense creek, timbered on its bank with box, bean, and other trees, the water is in detached holes but good and apparently plenty of fish and ducks. No natives seen yet although their tracks are fresh; the natives that are with me say a number of them have taken advantage of the rain lately fallen and gone out to the sandhills on both sides of this creek. By native report the creek flows just here south and east, but within two miles from this it turns quite round by south-west and west, passing Coontarie. Neither cart nor sheep arrived in camp tonight.
Thursday, February 13.
The cart on its way here this morning had an upset in one of the creeks close by but fortunately little damage done. The road it appears to me from this on our course is much better than we have come over, if so we shall make good speed. I spell the remainder of today refreshing the animals. This creek is about eighty to ninety yards wide, very precipitous banks, and from fifty to sixty feet deep, with innumerable small creeks. About 400 yards from this, above us, a large creek leaves this one, heavily timbered and well-defined. Limestone crops out in many places. It is from fifty to seventy yards wide and from fifteen to thirty feet deep. It sweeps away to the west and south, close under some sand-ridges that are close by. Wind from south and west, very sultry. There has been a good deal of rain here lately (and from the appearance of the country there has been none for some time previously). Nothing green except in the bed of the creek and the trees. The whole country looks as if it had been carefully ploughed, harrowed, and finally rolled, the farmer having omitted the seed. Two natives came into our camp at dark, apparently without any fear, and stayed with us for the night.
Friday, February 14.
Started at 8 a.m. On the west side of the creek Panbaera a large creek leaves it at about 400 yards from camp, and the ground heavy, with intense heat. I camped after a journey of fifteen and a half miles on same side of creek, close to a deep waterhole in the creek. Name of creek Toomathooganie. Immediately above the camp on opposite side of creek a large red sandhill comes right on to creek called Manganhoonie, from the top of which one gets an extensive view of such country as there is, the creek in the distance, north, it filling the valley with its timber bearing 340 degrees. On our way here today, about three miles from camp, passed the remains of Burke’s horse and saddle; they were recognised as his by camel dung being about the camp. No marks on any of the trees visible. Camel dung also close to our camp. Another of our best bullocks was obliged to be left, having been struck down with the sun as the other was a few days ago. Cart late in arrival at camp in consequence. One of our natives took French leave immediately after getting to camp; the other tried hard also but was too closely watched.
Saturday, February 15.
Started some hands back to see if the bullock was still alive, if so and unable to travel, to kill him and have him jerked, and if dead to have him skinned. They brought back word that he was still alive and might get over it. Late getting ready to start owing to the uncertainty whether the bullock was to be jerked or not. Bullocks started at 10.35 a.m., and if I get feed must make a short day of it. If the road keeps as heavy as it has done since coming to this creek I shall have to abandon the cart, which for many reasons I shall regret. Wind north and
Sunday, February 16.
In camp, very ill.
Monday, February 17.
In camp, very ill; still getting the gear ready for tomorrow, if I am able to start—pain slightly gone. Had the curiosity to weigh and found I had lost fourteen pounds in three days from the violence of the attack; when I left town I weighed fifteen stone eleven pounds, now I weigh exactly twelve stone. Clear but excessively hot with occasionally a little thunder and some showers this morning, and it looked as if we were going to have it heavy but it passed off.
Tuesday, February 18.
With one thing and the other, and one of the bullocks absent, was late at starting. Pain gone today but excessively weak. Started at 11.30, course 340 degrees; flooded box-cracked land for one mile. At seven and a half miles further passing over bare mud plain destitute of any vegetation, with a couple of sandhills and the main creek beyond them to the east. On this distance half a mile off is the bed of a large creek flowing to the south and west, no water at present in it. Close to this point one of our best bullocks was struck dead with the heat of the sun walking leisurely along carrying nothing; the rest of the party were much in advance and, as it was such a fearfully hot day and not a drop of water near, nothing could be done with the flesh of him unfortunately. At five miles further came to a large deep creek flowing westward, no water in it. Up to this point was to be seen in the distance westward apparent breaks in the sandhills with box timber in each; and I have no doubt many of those places form into large creeks by the terrific overflow of this main creek. At one mile further on (340 degrees) crossing this creek on to top of sandhill, changed course to 38 degrees, the creek from the sandhill bearing considerably eastward. At two and a quarter miles over flooded flats and at some rainwater where I afterwards camped; at two miles further struck the creek but not a drop of water; searched up and down
Wednesday, February 19.
Sent Mr. Hodgkinson and Middleton off up the creek to search for water, and Middleton to return after travelling about eight miles if successful in finding a supply to enable us to proceed further up the creek; Hodgkinson to go further on and examine the creek and return in the afternoon to where it was arranged we should camp. Middleton returned about noon with the intelligence that about seven miles up there was abundance of water in the creek for our immediate wants; so we started late in the afternoon as the distance was short and the day fearfully hot, bearing of 350 degrees for four and a half miles, the creek appearing to bear too much east, change course to 360 degrees for two and a quarter miles further, and it getting late changed course straight on for the creek, bearing of 37 1/2 degrees for three-quarters of a mile, where I struck the creek with a little salt water in its bed; down the creek from this about half a mile is the water, and where we afterwards camped but without knowing (in the absence of Middleton, who was seized with a violent illness on the way here and did not get to the camp at all during the night). I went up the creek for two and a half miles, found it dry, and returned to water and camped.
Thursday, February 20.
Camp on east side of creek where the latter is upwards of 180 yards wide and about 80 feet deep, western banks very inaccessible, the east bank where we have camped less so with immense polygonum bushes. Very unwell still; we were not aware of the cause of Middleton’s detention with the camels, on which was the food, till he and Davis made their appearance after the morning had somewhat advanced, when they arrived and explained the cause; Middleton was very ill indeed of dysentery and could scarcely crawl.
Friday, February 21.
In camp; I feel a little better, Middleton still very unwell; miserable camp but can’t help it.
Saturday, February 22.
Started Mr. Hodgkinson and Bell out on the west side of the creek to examine ranges that appear stony in the distance, and ascertain if this creek receives any tributary from the westward of north-north-west likely to be Eyre’s Creek, as there is no doubt this is not it, and return by this creek to ascertain how the water lies in it. I am much better today and Middleton appears to be on the change for the better; wind south with a few clouds.
Sunday, February 23.
Middleton improving; I feel much better, so much so that, as there is a cool breeze from the south, I am induced to ride out to the eastward to examine the country between this and the stony hills visible from here on the east side of the creek; went four and a half miles course 135 degrees, over flooded flats and a couple of sandhills, from top of the highest sandhill changed course to 113 degrees for two and a quarter miles to top of another larger sandhill, passing one other in my course, then on bearing of 15 degrees for six and three-quarter miles over flooded flats with a few smaller sandhills, but soon terminate on both sides of my course; the current over this tract of flat being to the south of east, then three-quarters of a mile on bearing of 15 degrees over one sandhill to top of rocky hill, from which the flooded flat I have just passed gathers together in the distance to a creek, and goes off on course of 155 degrees, and no doubt is the feeder of the waters now in the creek to south and east of our present camp namely Barrawarkanya, Marroboolyooroo, Cadityrrie, Meincounyannie, and Gnappa Muntra; then two and a quarter miles on bearing of 10 degrees to top of sandy and stony hill, with four or five mallee trees and a few other shrubs; marked one of the mallee trees. From this hill the creek passed end of table-topped stone range on bearing from six to nine miles distant north-west and round northward to east, peaks and hills of stone with intervening flats, some of earth, others of stone, are visible as far as eye can reach; from this hill our present camp bears about 227 1/2 degrees and distant about eleven and a half miles. In the evening Mr. Hodgkinson and Bell returned having examined the hilly country, but could find no tributary joining the creek; saw water up some distance that will suit our purpose so far. I will in a day or two ride over to Eyre’s Creek and ascertain if either of the northern search parties have got there yet, and deposit a memorandum for them there and see if a route be practicable westward to Stuart’s country now, or if I shall have to wait for more rain: although we had such nice rain coming over the desert the excessive heat has absorbed most of it, and you may travel a day without seeing a drop; intend starting up the creek in the morning. Middleton much better. Mr. Hodgkinson saw one native and his lubra up the creek but had little conversation.
Monday, February 24.
Camped; the bullocks not found till too late to start. Mr. Hodgkinson tendered his resignation as second in command which I accepted, and from this date he holds no longer any position as officer in the party under my guidance. Poole had a sun-stroke during the day whilst out after the horses, but by cold application to the head he soon recovered.
Tuesday, February 25.
Rather late getting the animals ready for a start, the feed being so scant; started on bearing of 40 degrees, on same side of creek as that on which we were encamped, over flooded flats and sandy terminations: at five and three-quarter miles passed along and crossed a large deep creek in which there was a little water and a number of native wurlies. Course of creek nearly north and south, at seven and a quarter miles further over some abrupt sandhills, the summits of which had an almost perpendicular wall of pure drift sand, varying from two and a half feet to five feet in height and very difficult for the animals to get over, and flooded flats on same bearing; then changed course to 34 degrees for four and a half miles over similar country mixed with stone hills and flats, the creek being a long way to the west but now gradually approaching our course; then changed course to 14 degrees for one and one-sixth of a mile to creek, where luckily we found sufficient water for all purposes and in the bed of the creek a better supply of green grass for the animals than they have had for some time. Cloudy, wind north-east. The bullocks have not arrived tonight.
Wednesday, February 26.
Cloudy and threatening for rain; wind north-east. At 9.30 a.m. one of the men from the bullocks arrived and informed me that one of the pack bullocks had dropped and was killed to endeavour to make some use of his flesh. This is the same that had the sunstroke first but was apparently recovering; and another of our very best and generally quietest had that day bucked so much in endeavouring to get rid of his saddle that he disabled himself, fell down, and could not be got up; the remainder of the bullocks went off to feed but there he was where he fell in the morning beside his pack. Immediately on hearing of this disaster I forwarded some hands and packhorses out to convey to camp what was thought to be of any use. It has commenced raining and what little will be got cannot, I am afraid, be cured, as there is every appearance of a continuation of rain and there will be no chance of drying the flesh as we have no salt. If it was fair weather I would kill at once the disabled also, and have his flesh dried; but it would be no use at present and he may be able to get up after a spell and come in this length when, if the weather prove favourable, I will have him killed and jerked. The remainder of the bullocks (seven) arrived during the day and the detachment of the party with what was thought of use of the dead bullock; but I question much about its keeping as now it is raining steadily, but we will use as much of it as we can and save the sheep. None of our journeys appear to give the sheep the slightest inconvenience and they are as ready to commence their journey in the morning as the man that attends to them; in fact no party ought ever to go out exploring in the summer months without them. During the day I rode out to the tops of some of the
Thursday, February 27.
Rained heavily and steadily all night from the east-north-east; the ground at daylight a perfect bog. From the severity of the night some of our sheep got adrift but were recovered during the day. The creek, nine-tenths of which was yesterday dry, is now running a strong stream and momentarily increasing. Got all the animals across to this side during the forenoon as the rain appeared likely to continue; and now that it has set in will most likely inundate all the low flats and completely put a stop to further progress up the creek until the ground hardens a little. At such times the only place of safety hereabouts are the sandhills or stony hills; the latter I prefer, and will shift to one in the event of the rain continuing another night as steadily as it did last night as there, and there only, is there any feed to be had for our animals. They have fallen off considerably of late from the hot weather and the scantiness of good feed. As soon as they were taken over the creek they were taken out to one of the stone-ridges and there left in tolerable feed but not very abundant. The water is lying all over the flat in sheets and the creek rising rapidly. It must have been a very long time since this part of the country has been similarly visited with rain, as the country generally, the flats principally, had not any vegetation upon them of any useful kind. As I said before the stone hills, or rather the small creeks on their slopes, are the only places where there was any feed excepting in the bed of the creek, and now that last supply was gone, as the creek by this afternoon was swimmable.
Friday, February 28.
Raining all night but not quite so heavily; still very considerably. Our camp is like a stockyard in the southern districts much used in the wet weather—over our boots in mud and water; although on some of the highest ground just about here pounds of mud and rubbish adhere to your boots every time you lift your feet. Creek considerably more swollen; and as every place is so saturated with water and mud will not move out of this till tomorrow morning. In the meantime, in hopes that it will clear up a little and make the ground firm enough to bear the weight of the animals. It is well we left the cart or we should not have been able to move it from this, and every probability of its being carried away by the flood now rapidly approaching.
Saturday, March 1.
At first blush of dawn wind from same quarter (east-south-east). Rained heavily all night and to my astonishment, instead of the creek rising as usual (three and a half inches per hour) it was now rising five and a half inches and hourly increasing. Although the creek has in many places overflown its banks, and consequently a much broader channel, we are completely surrounded with at least five feet of water in the shallowest place that we can escape from this by. After a breakfast by daybreak the animals are immediately sent for and, as the men start for them, drive before them our sheep for more than half a mile through a strong current, and swimming three-fourths of the time; they went over splendidly and were left on a piece of dry land until our camels and horses came and removed the stores etc., which fortunately they did with not very many of the things getting wet. The camels being brought in and loaded and
Sunday, March 2.
In camp; light showers occasionally. The side creeks from the hills running themselves out and the upper parts drying; the line of creek visible in the distance through the trees during all its course now in view, and the flats considerably more covered. Thunder and lightning from north to north-east.
Monday, March 3.
Wind east-south-east; as usual squally. On turning in last night it had every appearance of rain and did rain steadily for some time but gradually held up for the night, and appeared as if we were to have a dry change to have all the things that got wet perfectly dry again. I shall get all the horses shod here as, from the soft nature of the flats for some time to come, they will be unfit to travel over the approaching stony country. Intend searching for the bullock
Tuesday, March 4.
Wind a little more east; shod some of the horses yesterday and some this morning. Four of the party after dinner started to kill the bullock; camp there and return in the morning with the meat when cold. I with Poole rode out to some high stone hills eastward to endeavour to get a view of the creek and ascertain, if possible, from which quarter it principally flows. After getting to top of the highest, from which one gets very extensive view to the north-east, there was a slight haze that prevented me positively ascertaining its actual course; there is very heavy timber on a bearing of 35 degrees, and appears surrounded by hills. The haze was so bad that I could not be certain; however I must travel in that direction first and trust that it suddenly turns round to the north; from this last point to a point 20 degrees west of north is a perfect sea, nothing but isolated trees showing above the water; I found the ground exceedingly soft, almost impassable in many places. On the tableland, at the foot of the high stone-hills I ascended, are lines of creeks forming the drainage of the country, thickly timbered with myall, and (for the place) a considerable
Wednesday, March 5.
Wind light from north-east and every appearance of a beautiful day; the country beginning to have quite a green appearance, and the valleys being covered with lilies in full bloom, birds singing and chirping all around as if in spring. I am quite shut out for the present from Eyre’s Creek; so will not attempt it. At midday the party arrived with the meat of the bullock and shortly after, when cutting it up for jerking, the head of the axe accidentally flew off and inflicted a severe wound in the knee of Maitland our cook; I hope it won’t disable him long, although it is deep and in a nasty place. Got all the meat jerked by evening and trust we may have dry weather to have it properly preserved; lots of bones and scraps, of which we shall make soup.
Thursday, March 6.
Wind more to the north and every appearance of a dry day; busy shoeing the horses although they make a slow and sorry work of it.
Friday, March 7.
Wind changing all round except from the south and clouds gathering; with lots of black macaws screeching out in all directions. I hope they are not again the forerunners of a downpour, as they were of the last. The meat appears to be drying nicely, and will have it taken up this evening. It is very sultry.
Saturday, March 8.
Wind from west round to north and sultry with a good many fleecy clouds; shall finish shoeing the horses today with the exception of one which will require a couple of days’ work first, being at present rather fresh (a good fault) and if all is well will make a start on Monday morning. The stony hills and slopes (that from every appearance, a few days ago, from their thorough bronzed and desert appearance, one would suppose grass never grew) are now being clothed in many places with a nice green coating of grass, and shortly will give this part quite a lively appearance, very different indeed from what it was when I first saw it, then it was as desolate a looking spot as one could picture to himself. In a couple or three months’ time from this date one could with little difficulty (I am almost certain) start with a herd of any description of stock from the northern settled parts of South Australia and go right across the continent to whatever point he might think fit by this route, but I will know more about it shortly. This bullock gave us of dried meat about 116 pounds, apparently well dried, besides what meat was used with the bones to make soup. I hope it may keep well.
Sunday, March 9.
At Escape, or Number 7, Camp—will be all ready for a start in the morning. Wind north-east.
Monday, March 10.
Wind north and east, fresh breeze. Bullocks rather refractory at being packed, consequently late before we started. The journey today was over stony hills and flats, crossing several small creeks from the more remote hills, some running tributaries of Burke Creek for twelve and a half miles, and for three and three-quarter miles further over similar country, but more flat as we are now approaching the creek, and camped on the outside of a flat with some water and a fair supply of feed. I was here before the pack animals arrived but, after waiting for them a short time, found that in some of the small watercourses the water seemed to be driving, as I thought with the strength of the wind as is not unusual, and took for the time no further notice; the horses came up first and were unpacked, the camels were some time after and did not arrive until after I had returned from a ride to the top of a hill further up the creek, and at which place I went down to the water and to my astonishment found that the whole valley was a perfect sea, rising fast; on my return to where I had fixed the camp I found that the water had approached rather too close to be comfortable, and on the arrival of the camels had them unpacked some distance out on the top of a mound of stones and had all the horse gear removed there also; the bullocks did not get to camp till a little after sunset—one of them was so much trouble that I will do without him rather than be pestered with him, and put his load on one of the horses. The camels travelled over the stones with their loads apparently quite unconcerned; they are undoubtedly the best of all animals for this kind of work, they eat anything nearly, from the gumtree down to the smallest herb, and then come and lie down beside you, whereas horses and bullocks, if there be any lack of feed, will ramble all over the country; with sheep and camels one could travel all over any practicable part of the continent and keep them in condition.
Tuesday, March 11.
Where we had the packs removed from last night and all over the flats is a perfect sea of water, and even up within less than a foot of where I slept. From the creek having fallen not far from our last camp some days since I was under the impression that I would find it considerably down the further I advanced up its course; but now I find that the cause of its fall then was purely local from the tributaries immediately about and above having ceased with the rain to throw in a supply to keep it up. It now shows me that this creek must come from some very considerable distance; and I trust it may turn out to come from the north instead of too much east. It appears from where I was last night to incline towards the north. Wind from east-south-east. Started for a gap in the range over top of a stony range to a creek.
Wednesday, March 12.
The bullock did not come up during the night so will be obliged to leave him behind. Started on bearing of 55 degrees for two and one-eighth miles and crossed several myall creeks; over stony ground; the flood close by obliged to change course to bearing of 97 degrees for three-quarters of a mile, then bearing of 91 degrees for two and a quarter miles over low chopping slaty and stony hills and several creeks; then bearing of 84 1/2 degrees for eight miles over stony ground, very bad travelling; then on bearing of 77 degrees for half a mile to camp on a frizzly-barked tree creek. Passed several of the same kind of creeks today with some timber; it is very hard and some of it (from three to four feet in diameter) would make splendid furniture. Another of the bullocks dropped down when within two hundred yards of the camp, apparently affected by the sun—although it did not seem to me so very hot, although it was sultry. I hope he will be able to go on in the morning or at this rate we shall soon lose them all. Wind has chopped round from north-east to south this afternoon and looks very much like rain. From top of a hill about a mile from here looking over a sea of water, two openings to be seen in the sandhills beyond, much as if one or other was the proper course of the creek; one at 355 1/2 degrees, with heavy timber, and one at 10 degrees, without so much timber but broader and more like. Natives raising a great smoke in the distance about five or six miles west of the 355 1/2 degrees opening. Blew strong in the evening and the rain went off.
Thursday, March 13.
Camp 10. Clouds all gone; wind north-east. The bullock unable to get up so I shall be obliged very reluctantly to leave him behind; but perhaps I may be driven back this way and he will then be of use. Started for gap in range bearing 120 degrees for four and a half miles over very stony country. On table-topped hill on the left, and the mass of ranges on the left, they look like the Reaphooks (hills) in the north of Adelaide at Marrana. I have called
Friday, March 14.
Camp 11. Started on bearing of 90 degrees for five miles to top of long stony ridges. For the first two miles through swamp and water and sandhill, leaving on left hand a very nice lake, and on the right some little distance off a sand-ridge running along swamp; in the distance south is timber denoting a creek which forms this swamp and lakes—the remaining three miles of the five very stony and bad travelling. Immediately beyond me at the end of the five miles stretches a large dry bed of a lake eastward, with a considerable swamp to south round to 80 degrees, following the foot of a well-defined range, at the north-east termination of which range, visible from here, are several smaller and larger table-topped hills and gaps; then on bearing of 80 degrees, passing through an arm of dry lake; good travelling for nine and a half miles and camped on small sandhill at a claypan; the flood from three to four miles off to west of north; sandhills ahead.
Saturday, March 15.
Camp 12, or packsaddle camp, having left one of the bullock’s packsaddles on a tree. Bearing 48 degrees for three and a half miles over very heavy country with spinifex and abundance of other grasses; one and a half miles further same course over stony and sandy rises. A splendid tier of table-topped hills in the distance east and north; bearing of 65 degrees for two and a half miles, then bearing of 20 degrees over a flooded splendid swamp, principally, four and a half miles to a box creek where I will kill Ranger the bullock as he cannot travel. Distance travelled today twelve miles.
Sunday, March 16.
Went to have a view from the principal range eastward, the first and greater part of the road over magnificent pasture, nearer the hills very stony; found the hills distant twenty-one miles; from top of a large table-topped one I had a splendid view; the tier of ranges I am now on bear to east of north and west of south but are very irregular, many spurs running off from main range and forming a vast number of crown-shaped tops and peaked hills, with innumerable creeks draining the country from east and south to west and north and joining the main creek. Twenty-one miles travelled today bearing 62 1/2 degrees; from this hill another tier of similar hills is seen in the distance with a very large creek draining the country between this and that, flowing northward, and then west round the north end of the tier I am now upon, the south-west end of distant range bears 125 degrees, about twenty-five to thirty miles off, and the north-east end, dimly seen in the distance, bears 65 degrees, which tier of ranges and creek I have called Browne Creek after J.H. Browne, Esquire, of Booboorowie, South Australia. The range I am on and the tier northward to where the creek (Browne’s) passes round the end of them I have called Ellar’s tier of table-tops; the tier south of where I now am I have called Warren’s tier of table-tops after my respected friend George Warren, Esquire, of Gawler for whose kindness I am much indebted; the plains or downs east and north of those ranges I have called The Downs of Plenty as here there is everything one could wish in travelling over a new country. I would have gone over to the distant ranges but unfortunately my horse threw one of her shoes and I was obliged to camp at a creek under the hills for the night. The creek I have now camped on I have named Ranger’s Creek after our bullock killed here.
Monday, March 17.
Returned to camp; on my way out to the hills yesterday saw three natives, but they would not let me approach, they were busy collecting seeds from the different grasses; the beef seemingly drying well but will have to give it another day.
Tuesday, March 18.
In camp; will pack up the beef tonight and start in the morning. Afternoon packed the beef, it gave us 162 pounds of well-dried meat and I hope it may keep good.
Wednesday, March 19.
Started about 10.30 and went about fourteen miles; passed through some magnificent country, one fine plain alone extended for several miles and well grassed; in the distance could be seen high ranges. The weather magnificent and quite tropical, the perfume from the flowers is quite refreshing. Cut a tree with 13 MK (conjoined), 15 to 19-3-62. Distance travelled today fifteen miles. Camped on a creek, fine water.
Thursday, March 20.
Left the camp about 10 a.m. and travelled till we struck a large creek and went on over fine flats and sandhills covered with most luxuriant grass and several descriptions of creepers. The blue convolvulus was also seen today for the first time, also a most beautiful small blue flower with a dark purple eye. Plenty of pigeons today, some few nests were found on the march. The mosquitoes very bad at this camp. A native was brought into camp by Mr. Hodgkinson this evening and we decorated him with necklaces and gave him a feed. Distance travelled today fifteen miles.
Friday, March 21.
Marked a small bastard sandalwood tree this morning 11 MK (conjoined), 20-3-62. Our journey today was over nothing but red sandhills course about north-north-east; had to cross a large sheet of water. Eighty duck eggs were found today by the men. The country round about now is very fine indeed, grass as high as the horses’ knees. We now every day find fresh shrubs and flowers, everything reminding one of the tropics. Bullocks and sheep not in tonight, mosquitoes bad here indeed. Last night was certainly the most infernal night I ever passed, never slept. The mosquitoes were fearful although fires were lighted all round us, each man having his private bonfire, yet the mosquitoes were not to be frightened, they would buzz and bite; rolled our heads up in our blankets and oilskins but in a second or two the little brutes were under and buzzing away. The air also seemed impregnated with the little tormentors. Camped on claypan with little and bad water. Bullocks not up nor sheep. Distance travelled about sixteen miles.
Saturday, March 22.
Bullocks did not come up last night so have had to send back today, consequently spelled. Thunder and a couple of showers in the afternoon at which time the bullocks arrived, having strayed far.
Sunday, March 23.
Claypan camp. At five and a quarter miles cleared sandhills bearing 17 degrees, flooded and stony flats with sand. At six and three-quarter miles crossed a box and myall creek. At seven and three-quarter miles to top of sandhill passed sandy bed of myall creek from hills. At ten and three-quarter miles crossed a box and myall creek, running north and west; plenty of water in creeks, and on both sides of course passing stony flats and undulations, well grassed. At thirteen and a half miles a white gum flat with not many stones and trees not large. At fifteen and a half miles over stony undulations well grassed to top of a myall creek followed it down west one mile to plenty of water and feed. Camped—sixteen and a half miles. At three miles and up to four and a half after starting flood close by on left.
Monday, March 24.
Camp 17. Bearing of 355 degrees. At three and three-quarter miles crossed a myall creek or flat—broad, with several dry channels from north-north-east, draining a tier of fine ranges on the east—the only ones now visible to north or east—which I have called Scott’s ranges (the tops of which, especially the northern one, are well wooded) after John Scott, Esquire, of Adelaide, a gentleman to whom I am much indebted, in not only giving the use of two of his best horses for my use during the time the expedition would be absent, but in also kindly requesting me to call at his station in the North and take from it what I might consider of service to me. Over gentle slopes, some stony. Saw fifteen emu on one of the plains so have named the plain and undulations Emu Downs, to a box creek with abundance of water and feed at seventeen and a half miles. No timber except on the ranges and creeks. This appears a small creek to many that are in sight to north and west. A range continues to north-north-east. The creek from eastward to westward and southward joining other larger creeks a few miles west of this. The whole of the country passed over today is excellent pastoral country. From this camp the north-east termination of Scott’s Ranges, ending in two detached round-looking hills, bears 113 1/2 degrees, about six to ten miles off.
Tuesday, March 25.
Started on bearing of 355 degrees. At two and a half miles crossed a box creek with plenty of water from north-east to west and south, sweeping considerably towards latter quarter. At fourteen and a half miles to box creek, dry where I struck it. Went on bearing of 238 degrees for two miles to a creek with plenty of water and camped. Sixteen and a half miles over beautifully grassed, very gently sloping and undulating country; rising ground seen to the west in the distance—flood must be some distance off. New hawk seen (light-coloured) this afternoon.
Wednesday, March 26.
Camp 19. Started on bearing of 315 degrees to get closer to course of main creek which I have observed nothing of for the last two days. Beautiful weather; heavy dews at night. At ten miles struck and crossed a box creek where it empties itself into a flat; passing over splendid country, the latter part in the small watercourse rather stony and sandy. A quarter of a mile further on is another box creek, and between it and the first creek is a perfectly boggy swamp full of water, as well as the creek, so have to change course to avoid some of it; bearing of 55 1/2 degrees, over plain for two miles; then bearing 7 1/2 degrees for four and a half miles, first part of it magnificent feed, the rest a morass—will have to clear out of this to the east for some distance to round it. Any traveller caught here in rainy weather such as has been lately deluging these vast plains would to a certainty be washed away—there is not a knoll six feet high within the range of the eye. Journey today about sixteen and a half miles from point to point, but I made it considerably more in trying to get across the swamp and being obliged to return. A small hill from top of a tree at camp beyond what appears the main creek in the distance bears 309 degrees; another small one is west and south of that—no other rising ground to speak of visible, except in the direction we came from and a little east of it.
Thursday, March 27.
20, or Carbine Creek camp—having left one behind there on a tree, which has lost the hammer and is unfit for service. Bearing of 29 degrees for nine miles over swampy country with splendid feed, belts of timber on the right or east of course, studded in various places, denoting waterholes; then bearing of 15 degrees for one and a quarter miles where I got bogged in a creek; got out of it again with a good deal of difficulty and found that course quite impracticable; after trying the ground for a couple of miles found it nothing but a bog, so changed course to 54 degrees for half a mile over sound ground, and encamped on a small creek with a perfect meadow of grass all around. From the top of a tree hills in the distance to north and south of east discernible—rising ground near, which I will make for in the morning. I went out this evening and found that it is good travelling and will thus allow me to get more in a northerly direction than of late. Cannot get within miles as yet of the main creek on account of the boggy nature of the ground—there appear to be innumerable timbered creeks between this and that, all running into it—the water here, even on the level plains, is in places running a stream. One of the camels got bogged on the road today and had to be dug out with much difficulty.
Friday, March 28.
Camp 21. Beautiful morning, wind from east-south-east. Started on bearing of 68 degrees for one mile to clear some water; then on bearing of 34 degrees for two and a quarter miles; bearing of 27 degrees for four and a quarter miles; bearing of 20 degrees for three and a half miles to top of a small stony rise, immediately beyond which, half a mile distant, is one mass of creeks occupying a mile in width, coming from south of east from hills in the distance. These creeks, no doubt, are one both above and below this, although now split into many branches. I have called it Davenport Creek after George Davenport, Esquire, of Melbourne, a gentleman to whom I am much indebted for his kindness. Then bearing of 41 degrees at half a mile came to first creek and continued on same course, crossing creeks for one mile; distance about twelve and a half miles. This creek must drain an immense tract of country eastward. Northward appears one mass of creeks. It is certainly a magnificent country if there is permanent water.
Saturday, March 29.
Camp 22. Beautiful morning, wind light from south-south-east. On bearing of 355 degrees for seventeen and a half miles, first part over rather swampy ground, chiefly over firm ground; good travelling country and a little stony (sandstone). On it found a new fruit on a shrub about five feet high, not unlike the bean tree; the fruit tree of Cooper’s Creek also is here and it is a more handsome tree than between this and Cooper’s Creek; the bean tree is also here. Within the last two miles the ground has been swampy and full of watercourses, with plenty of water caused by the emptying of a large creek from the east, coming past south-west end of a large range east and running north of this position; which creek I have named Brown’s Creek after Charles Brown, Esquire, of Great Bourke Street West, Melbourne, whose upright way of conducting business I very much admire and who, from his straightforward manner, gains the esteem of everyone that has anything to do with him.
Sunday, March 30.
Camp Number 23. Bearing of 7 degrees one mile, bearing of 355 degrees eight and a half miles to top of a sandhill, well-grassed; passing on the left, half a mile back, a couple of same kind and a little higher. From the one I am on an extensive view of the surrounding country is had. On the west side of the creek close is a tier of ranges running parallel with it; nearest part not above four miles from this; hills on the right at various distances discernible all along the course today; the most prominent one seemingly well-wooded and terminating northward in a bluff and small table-top. Bluff bearing 117 1/2 degrees, I have called the Hamilton Range after George Hamilton, Esquire, Inspector of Police, Adelaide. Two table-topped hills are to the east and north of the bluff; southern one bears south end 114 degrees, north end 113 1/2 degrees; south end of north table-top 113 1/4 degrees; north-east end 112 degrees. On a bearing of 60 degrees distant is a mass of apparently heavy ranges running west of north—as do most of the ranges that at all approach the creek. The country here has been terribly torn by the flood and torrents of rain that must have fallen some short time back; in some places it has the appearance of being literally ploughed in stripes, but generally firm; any quantity of water on right of course. To the east, between the hills, heavy creeks come out west and north in all directions, overflowing the whole country; anyone caught in the locality on such occasions as the late visit of the flood here would never more be heard of. On bearing of 331 degrees for two and a half miles; bearing of 340 degrees for four and three-quarter miles—in all about sixteen and three-quarter miles; latter part much torn by water and in consequence less feed than usual. Camped on one of the main channels of the main creek about eighty to one hundred yards wide, cut into a number of channels; abundance of water and feed. From this camp peculiar cliffy red table-topped hill bears 77 degrees; highest point of range 33 1/2 degrees; farthest part visible 7 degrees; is timbered on top; running north-west; south end distant about five to seven miles.
Monday, March 31.
Bearing 15 degrees one and one-eighth miles; bearing of 36 1/2 degrees four miles to ranges, part of table-top hill about three and a half miles off where the creek goes through the gorge between the table-tops, when it is fully half and nearly three-quarters of a mile wide, and nearly one sheet of water and bogs; it divides towards the other side through larger passage on the east and two rocky hills in the angle, nearly north and south of each other and about 100 yards apart; another rocky cone hill is south again of them. Round rocky summit and bears 240 degrees; crossed on bearing of 10 degrees over table-top limestone and sandstone hill to flat on the other side at four miles; at two miles further on same course camped at first
Tuesday, April 1.
Beautiful morning; wind east and fresh. Travelled zigzag through creeks from the eastward for about twenty miles and camped on large one from south of east that we could not find a crossing at; our distance in a direct line would not be much more than half that, and the exact course not known till I get on one of the hills; to east and north no view, being perfectly shut out with timber. The country near the creek is a perfect bog, and even a man has great difficulty in getting out of some places that he is induced to try, thinking it crossable. After getting to camp went about examining the creek for a crossing, and think I have found one that perhaps may do, but even after crossing this one the country is like a net, intersected as it is with creeks, magnificent pasture on the flats; a native fishing weir is a little above this. Across the creek and you can see the fish snapping at the flies in the holes—all the creeks indeed that I have crossed from the east have both fish and mussels in them, but here the creeks are very formidable. Small crown top of the hill, another very fine one some little distance south of that; all those are on the western side of a large range, close by, running apparently north-east and south-west. I sincerely wish I was safe on the western side of these main creeks as I am thus driven contrary to my wish much east.
Wednesday, April 2.
Started to cross the creek about three-quarters of a mile to the eastward; but just before starting, whilst the horses were coming, two of them got bogged and we had some difficulty in extricating them, however we made a start; got to the crossing place—got two of the camels and two of the horses bogged and had considerable difficulty in getting all over safe, however did so with the exception of getting some of the things wet, so it was late when we crossed. I at once camped to dry them and got things put to rights for a start in the morning. Started off to get a view of the country from a remarkable crown-topped conical hill about six miles off, and had a most extensive view. I find that we have for the present passed the worst of the creeks, and that now there is in view only one of much magnitude and it bears off eastward, passing on the south-east side of an isolated hill or double hill; they are the only hills seen from this elevated spot from a bearing of 358 degrees round to 44 degrees southward and westward; from the forementioned
Thursday, April 3.
On bearing of 110 degrees along the creek for one and a quarter miles, on bearing of 65 1/2 degrees for three and a half miles, on bearing of 1 degree for three and a half miles over several boggy creeks; then after several fruitless exertions through bogs and creeks, with a large deep strong running stream and through quagmire, was obliged to retrace my steps and get outside of the creeks, having failed completely in getting over them; they would swallow horses and everything we had got. Went on bearing of 99 degrees for three and a half miles and camped on a magnificent lagoon about one mile long and about 200 yards wide, a perfect flower garden.
Friday, April 4.
Camp, Jeannie Lagoon; went and had a view from hills
east; saw there
Kangaroo ranges far to the east, tier after tier,
country timbered, etc.
Saturday, April 5.
Camp 28. At daybreak sky wild-looking to eastward; wind from south; strong. Never in all my experience found the flies so thorough a pest as they have been for the last week or ten days. We get on without our bread quite as well as I expected; the vegetables we use by boiling are famous things, both as a substitute for bread and keep the party in good health. The natives on the main creek lower down south call it cullie; it is a sort of spinach and does not grow more than a foot high but spreads perhaps twice that much. Started over on bearing of 45 degrees; at three three-eighth miles came to and crossed a broad swamp from the eastern hills; a little further back on the right of my course appeared to be another lagoon; at five-eighths of a mile commenced crossing low sandhills; splendid feed all the way. Changed the course, the ground ahead having too many high-looking sandhills. Saw a couple of natives in the distance crossing the swamp; I crossed some considerable distance west of them; they evidently did not see us. Cannot keep straight; there is a large deep creek here immediately on my left, about fifty yards wide; bearing of 60 degrees for one and a quarter miles; then bearing of 24 degrees, crossing the creek (small one); making for north-west end of another sandhill two and a quarter miles further; then bearing of 15 degrees, passing on the left some fine myall and sandhill country, splendidly grassed and strongly wooded with myall and other trees of various kinds in splendid foliage; two and a quarter miles bearing of 33 degrees over sandy undulation on the right and innumerable creeks on the left for one and one-eighth miles; in all sixteen and a quarter miles and camped on some mulga near some of the branches of the creek.
Sunday, April 6.
Camp 29. Beautiful cold morning; what little wind there is is from the south-west. Started away on bearing of 40 degrees for thirteen and a half miles; first part over stony myall undulations (open) the latter part free from stones and much less wooded except in the creeks that constantly come in from the ranges from the eastward. As I am now passing a couple of circular table-topped hills pretty close on the right I will change my course for a thicket of myall and camp that I may be enabled to ride to the height and have a view of the general course of the creek, as what I am on is too flat to get a view at all. Changed course and camped; distance travelled fourteen and five-eighth miles; day beautifully cool. A tier of ranges continues on my right all along, varying from five to eight miles distant, timbered with mulga, same as one I went on the day I camped at Jeannie Lagoon; a mass of detached pyramids, cut and conical coronet-topped hills are between my course and the main range and I have the creek to the right. Not far off passed abundance of water on course over top of Euro Hill; creek bears suddenly off westward—a likely way to get over the range and meet it again by a gap in range bearing 349 degrees. It appears to pass through and receive large tributaries from the west and northward, between large leading ranges on the west and through range with gap on the east side, that I talk of passing through to meet it again on bearing 318 degrees, or of bearing 340 degrees—nearer considerably than the former. This hill is a conical coronet-topped hill of burned sandstone mixed with some quartz and is four miles from camp, on a bearing of 157 1/2 degrees. Belts of mulga between camp and this; the country to north-east and round by east to south for some miles is not all good; a little spinifex and the ground perfectly strewed with bronzed stones of various sizes; no ranges visible from north round to north-east, but plains and mulga scrub; one larger hill similar, but coated with spinifex and bush of various sizes, is close by bearing 300 degrees; another about the same size as this, thickly coated with spinifex, and a couple of bushes about 300 yards off bears 225 degrees. Between me and main range to the east are numerous red pyramid hills of various sizes, and southward a number of detached table-topped hills, peaks, and mounds, all more or less timbered. Just as I was getting up this hill a fine euro hopped off down the side some distance off, and when I got on the top another sprang up and as I had my pistol with me I fired and luckily killed him, so I call the hill Euro Hill. After I had finished on the hill I disembowelled the euro and carried it to the camp to have it used and help the meat to last; I hope we may get plenty more.
Monday, April 7.
Camp 30. Exceedingly cold during the night but a beautiful morning. Started on bearing 5 1/2 degrees for six and three-quarter miles; first part of it over open flats with mulga creeks and watercourses, many with water; next over burnt stony undulation with mulga watercourses; at five miles came in amongst a quantity of detached hills of lime and sandstone; the ground strewed with bronzed burnt small stones and takes the print of an animal’s foot readily, having a light soil under. At the end of this distance, six and three-quarter miles, two creeks again full in view, one apparently on bearing 9 degrees, passing above and below a small table-topped hill, the other on bearing of 40 degrees, which I suppose I must follow till I can cross. For five miles passing stony slopes towards the creek and a vast abundance of vine with large yellow blossoms, the fruit being contained in a leafy pod; that fruit when ripe contains three or four black seeds as large as a good-sized pea. I must try them cooked as I find the emu tracks very abundant where the vine is most plentiful. I can from this point see the creek distinctly break off from the branch on bearing of 354 degrees, but I must keep on the branch still; bearing now 35 1/2 degrees. The tops of the low hills are of a whitish colour, and an immense quantity of gypsum is scattered over them as well as over the slopes as I came along, and the tops and slopes of the hill have mallee with other trees and shrubs; course 35 1/2 degrees for three three-eighth miles, first part burnt undulation of thin brown slate gypsum cliffs for a short distance, without a shrub or bush on them; precipitous slopes, tops alone having bushes or trees; latter part over undulation more or less stony to creek where it turns suddenly to northward again; bearing of 338 degrees over flooded well-grassed country for two miles on to the main creek; a hill on opposite side within twenty-three yards of creek bank. This is a magnificent stream here. It is at least 250 yards wide and from forty to fifty feet down the banks to the water, lined with noble gums, box, bean, and other trees; how deep it is difficult to say. Lots of ducks of various kinds, cormorants, magpies, corellas, pigeons of various kinds, with the usual accompaniment of crows and hawks. Small hill visible in the distance to south of east; very extensive plain in that direction also, as well as east and north of east, with abundance of excellent pasture and timbered low ridges, stony, but well grassed with limestone and the everlasting plum-pudding stone with sandstone. Current in creek I should say not more than half a mile per hour.
Tuesday, April 8.
Camp 31. Cool during the night with a heavy dew, beautiful morning, not a breath of wind: keeping a short distance from the creek to cross a boggy tributary from the east, for two and three-quarter miles, then through timbered stony rising ground, plenty of feed; the bronzed middle-sized pigeon of Cooper’s Creek seen here; bearing of 40 degrees for two and a quarter miles along limestone and plum-pudding slopes; part of creek on left on bearing of 30 degrees for three and a quarter miles, timber for building purposes to be had here in sufficient quantities; bearing of 45 degrees for three-quarters of a mile; bearing 50 degrees for one mile; bearing of 40 degrees three-quarters of a mile over myall open country, some of it very stony where the flood has swept over it; now on the right are some fine plains backed in by low myall ridges; bearing of 42 degrees for four and three-quarter miles, the creek on the left, tributaries seem to come in and join on opposite side, cross a creek from east in its swamp, plenty of water (Kell’s Creek); I have come to a stony crossing-place and recross over to north-west side; the female camel bogged but we soon got her put to rights; for the last three miles the ground we travelled over is nearly one mass of stones, limestone and agate or flint, and very bad travelling; the creek runs strong—I have called it Mueller’s Creek after F. Mueller of Melbourne—fifteen and a half miles. After getting to camp got a horse and went out north of west to a ridge some short distance off and saw to the westward a large tributary that I think will suit my course; at little over quarter of a mile a very large creek comes in from north of north-east and flows southward, it has ceased running and has a broad stony bottom but has splendid reaches of water; this I have called the Robinson after J. Robinson, Esquire, of Hume River. Considerably to east is a well-defined range in the distance, running north and south with three detached mounds of hills and I have called it Mount Mueller after F. Mueller, Esquire.
Wednesday, April 9.
Camp 32. Heavy dew, beautiful still morning, a few fleecy clouds. Started, bearing of 285 degrees for one and a quarter miles, at three-eighths of a mile crossed the Robinson, at three-eighths of a mile further crossed a nice creek with large reaches, the Mansergh; at three-eighths of a mile further changed our mode of travel to the bearing of 330 degrees for two and a quarter miles; then bearing 354 1/2 degrees, spinifex hill or range close on the right, good open country travelled over; creek on the left about two miles off, alluvial deposit on plain, over which we travelled for six and three-quarter miles then entered a mulga range (low) bronzed stone on the ascent but plenty of feed and numerous traces of kangaroo. Saw lots of emu on the plains; still on bearing of 354 1/2 degrees to creek, passing on the right a vast quantity of spinifex and ranges of sandstone right
Thursday, April 10.
Camp 33. Fine morning, wind moderate, south, on bearing of 300 degrees up the clear ground in the apparent centre of this immense creek; passed north end of stony (sand) spinifex-topped and pipeclay, north end at one and one-eighth of a mile; bearing of 315 degrees high bluff, spinifex-topped, hills all along at the right of creek, except the valley of the creek, this is the most miserable country we have been in for some time, if you offer to ascend the ridges they are nothing but a mass of very rough stones, spinifex, and mulga, myall, and white-stemmed gumtrees, very difficult to travel over, three miles on 315 degrees; obliged to change course, great part of the heavy creek, on my left, crossing my course, and bearing up more to eastward another creek bears off to considerably west of north, now on bearing of 285 degrees crossing the different branches of this immense creek which I have called the Cadell, after F. Cadell, Esquire, the enterprising and indefatigable navigator of the Murray and Darling, etc. etc., not that he will ever be able to steam up this length; 285 degrees for one and a quarter miles of other creeks that appear to go off on a bearing, at present, of 200 degrees, which I follow on its north-east side, or rather up through it, as it is divided into innumerable branches with abundance of water; camped at six and three-quarter miles on this course in the centre of the creek; the hills recede a good deal from the creek and are not so rough-looking or abrupt as they were in the morning and yesterday; the creek I have called Middleton, after Mr. Middleton, one of our party, who at all times has rendered me most material services and who, had I lost him during his late severe illness I should scarcely be able to get along without, he is always ready at the post when there is anything particular to do.
Friday, April 11.
Camp 34. Fine morning; wind moderate south. This creek receives a tributary from the southward of west about a quarter mile lower down than this. I shall pass through this creek to north-east side, that being the best and most open travelling, the south-west side having myall timber from the creek to the ranges as far as visible. If the country at all suits and, as my food cannot possibly carry
Saturday, April 12.
Camp 35. Fine morning. I have had to send back to last camp for a small saw, carelessly left behind by the cook. On bearing of 294 1/2 degrees on south-west side of creek direct, seven and a half miles through, the creek came direct in my course and sheered round again north before that distance; then bearing of 313 degrees for five and three-quarter miles, and camped, making the stage short to await the messenger for the saw. Wind south. Immense open downs or plains, well grassed with similar hills to what we have passed, wanting the spinifex. Messenger arrived with saw.
Sunday, April 13.
Camp 36. Evenings, nights, and mornings are beautifully cool; the days are quite hot enough. It is astonishing to see how fast the waters have dried up. I hope that near the tops of the creeks the water will not fail us, for up to this we have had lately much more than we want. Bearing of 336 degrees, on south-west side of creek still. Ranges now on the left and at the distance of from thirteen to fourteen miles, appear to come right on to the creek on both sides at two and a half miles; on bearing of 336 degrees. Tributary from south-west side; at five miles another tributary on same side; at six and three-quarter miles another. At fourteen miles the hills close, those on the north-east side nearer than the south-west side ones. At fourteen and a half miles tributary
Monday, April 14.
No word of Kirby; sent after him, found him on the tracks some miles away, and did not get to camp till near noon. He says he got entangled in the creeks and could not make the tracks out. Lots of kangaroo and emu here but shy; cloudy and hot. Looks as if we were to have a shower; I wish we may. Camp here today.
Tuesday, April 15.
Camp 37. Late in starting, some horses being absent; nice cool breeze from north-north-east—bearing of 2 1/2 degrees; creek on the left at three-quarters of a mile, tributaries join on each side; at two and a half miles remarkable peaky and table-topped hills on right; hills close on both sides. At four and a half miles changed course to 8 degrees; at one and a half miles heavy tributary came in from east-south-east, and is I think the principal channel; completely ran the creek out north and then followed and ran out the principal one. Retreated twice and compelled to camp at a water in the flat a quarter of a mile north of where I struck the creek. Distance today six and a half miles; although I suppose I travelled treble that distance. After camping got a horse and went out over the ranges in a west and north direction and saw what I suppose will be a course to suit me tomorrow; otherwise it was my intention to have taken one man and a packhorse, and pushing over the range northward to see if we are near the north watershed, or to have found a practicable route. Ranges are covered with spinifex and rough stones. Hodgkinson shot a euro which will help us on and save a sheep.
Wednesday, April 16.
Camp 38. Started on a general bearing of 292 degrees over the ranges and at seven miles direct got onto a large myall flat; at nine miles passing over myall flat. Red table-topped range close on right; passed through the mass of them and the last of the range; and changed bearing to 325 degrees for three and a half miles, making for a gum creek that appeared to come from the ranges from north and east. Found no water on the road nor in the creek but fortunately some in a side creek at which place I camped. Saw a native signalising to westward, a considerable distance.
Thursday, April 17.
Camp 39. Beautiful morning. Started on bearing of 305 degrees across an extensive myall, gum, and box flat, with innumerable tributaries into it in all directions. General drain up to the south; water in many watercourses as we cross the flat, and must be an immense creek a little lower down, where they all unite. Keep the course for eleven miles, crossing a fine open creek running northward, which I think is the same that we crossed this morning flowing south; then over spinifex ridges on bearing of 300 degrees onto a fine open flat. Heavy ranges west. Apparent fall of water northward; about four miles south of this and immediately over the open undulation at the distance the flow takes place south; on this last course two and a quarter miles; on bearing of 295 degrees for two miles, 293 degrees for two and a quarter miles over splendid country and camped at first creek we met with plenty of water. Unfortunately Kirby with the sheep has got astray; and Hodgkinson, who was sent after him in the morning to swerve him from the course he was then on and bear up north for ours, came up to me in the midst of a spinifex range, whilst leading on the party, with the stupid information that he could not follow his tracks; and on being rated for so doing and sent back arrived at 10 p.m., and never got on his tracks again but says he went back to the camp we left in the morning—for what purpose he only knows; in consequence the unfortunate man did not arrive at camp. I will send after him first thing in the morning. After getting into camp I rode out south towards the watershed but found it further off than I anticipated from this camp. It must be from ten to fifteen miles and most excellent country. The main range west from what I could see of it is very stony; few trees and a great abundance of kangaroo and other grasses. Emu and kangaroo in abundance. Range runs to east of north a little and to south of west a little and is formidable. Distance travelled seventeen and a half miles.
Friday, April 18.
Camp 40. First thing in the morning got the horses and started Middleton and Palmer to endeavour to trace the unfortunate man Kirby who has not made his appearance. He must have had a bitter cold night of it; this morning south wind was as cold or colder than I have felt it for twelve months—we were glad to get to the fire besides fortifying ourselves with warmer clothing than usual. I with Poole started to cut his tracks if he came out through the range on his course through open country south of this, but were unsuccessful in finding any trace of him. Middleton and Palmer got on his tracks and followed them to about dark when within a very short distance of our tracks here, and more than half the distance to this camp, and thought it not improbable, from the course he was then pursuing, that he had got to our camp and came home but the unfortunate had not; had he been followed the day before by Hodgkinson with the
Saturday, April 19.
Horses sent for per first light; night very cold again. Not having had anything in the shape of food since the morning Kirby was lost, except a couple or three spoonfuls of flour each in water, I determined, Kirby not yet arriving, to kill one of our bullocks; had them up to camp and shot one in the grey of the morning; three now remaining; in the event of Kirby not being found with the sheep all correct, not very bright prospect for the party to travel to the Gulf and round to Port Denison upon; certainly we have the horses but I would be loath to kill them except in extreme need, but I will still hope for the best, but cannot stay beyond a week whether found or not, as our provisions, beef, will be lessening daily; the flour we still have is a small quantity reserved in case of sickness and for the purpose of putting a small quantity daily in our soup to make it appear more substantial; at present the vegetable the party were all so fond of has disappeared except some old dry remnants which all feel the want of much. I hope it may reappear. After cooking some of the liver etc. for breakfast and some to take with them, started Middleton and Palmer again to follow up Kirby’s tracks from where they left them, and started Bell back to the last camp to examine minutely the track as he went along, and all about the camp in case he may have retraced his steps, which is what he ought to have done. By noon of same day, on our not making our appearance on his course, I started out and skirted the foot of the range where he ought to come out on
Sunday, April 20.
Very cold morning. Kirby sleeping and recruiting himself. The meat drying; in consequence of the last detention it has put us far back from where we otherwise would have been, and the course appears pretty open to us now.
Monday, April 21.
No dew last night, still the meat is unfit to pack, will have to give it today still, and then will make a start in the morning. A splendid large creek flows west of south over the fall of water, and at fifteen to sixteen miles from this there is abundance of water in it, and must increase wonderfully as it goes southward and receives its various tributaries. I have called it the Hamilton after G. Hamilton, Esquire, Inspector of Police, Adelaide. The one flowing south from our last camp (39) I have called the Warburton, after the Commissioner of Police, P.E. Warburton, Esquire, of Adelaide. The range between the two going south I have called Crozier’s Range after John Crozier, Esquire, Murray River. The ranges west side of the Hamilton going southward I have called
Tuesday, April 22.
Camp 40. We have been here now since the afternoon of Thursday last the 17th, and high time it is that we make some progress. Wind south-east; cold dewless nights; the meat has dried after a fashion but not sufficient for keeping any length of time without further exposure to sun and air—which we must do as soon as we get to camp for several days. Kirby has now quite recovered and we start on a bearing of 345 degrees. I call this small creek Black-eyes Creek—after the bullock we slaughtered here; at three and three-quarter miles crossed the what appears main channel of the creek coming from west-south-west, and various others coming in all directions; this is an immense creek, sandy and gravelly bed, with large and to me perfectly new trees, with short and broad dark green leaf and often clustering in fine saplings from the bottom and growing to a good height; also some fine gums. Creek now on the right; country after crossing the creek is splendidly grassed and firm sound ground between creek and range which is some distance off; but we will be gradually approaching it on our present course. At seven and a half miles crossed sandy creek from west; at ten one-eighth miles crossed large deep creek from west, at twelve miles sandy creek from west; and at fourteen miles sandy creek from west; at fourteen and a quarter miles large sandy creek, west, with water in sand; went down the creek east for a quarter of a mile to water and camped at the junction of the other creek we crossed a short distance back with this; the creek immediately below this is about 300 yards wide with excellent timber; there has been a little spinifex during today’s travel but the bulk of it has been well-grassed and fresh varieties of good sound country; a specimen of copper picked up in one of the creeks; a great abundance of quartz and mica strewed everywhere. I think I forgot to mention that at the division of waters on the low bald undulations limestone is strewed about in large and small circular pieces from the size of a saucer to three and four feet in diameter, besides large blocks of it; the hills on the west are of a hard stone between flint and sandstone, strewed about with quartz; the eastern one is of burned slate or clay, pretty much resembling many that we have already passed and what I was on, topped with spinifex, and the side with good grasses.
Wednesday, April 23.
Camp 41. Mild night, wind light from west; started on a bearing of 345 degrees. A fresh broad-bean from a fine runner found here but rather green to obtain seed from; may get some ripe further north. A couple of small fish about two and a half to three inches long are in this waterhole, came up at the flood no doubt and left here. The horses are gone back on their old tracks and the two men who went after them, like idiots, got about half of them and retraced their steps to camp, afraid no doubt to go off the tracks to look after them in case they should get lost—this I am sorry to say is not an uncommon occurrence and has all along pestered me very much, and has in many instances caused vast detention; the worst of it is that some of them instead of improving in following tracks appear to me to be getting daily more stupid. The sheep and bullocks I have sent on on the proper bearing, so that if it is even late when the horses are found they can be overtaken and a journey made; but it does not give me an opportunity of finding water and good camp as I otherwise would be able to do getting them in a proper time. Wind at 10 a.m. changed to east-north-east, beautiful morning. At middle of the day, the horses not making their appearance, I sent after the sheep and bullocks and had them turned back to camp; they arrived at sunset and the horses just arrived at the same time, having strayed amongst the spinifex a considerable distance. I took a horse and went to the nearest hill about seven miles distant to observe the course of the main creek, but the day proving warm and misty I did not get so distinct a view as I anticipated, it was extensive enough but indistinct although the elevation I was on must have been more than 3000 feet from level of the creek, and much higher ranges on to west of it; from top of it portions of the main range appear in the far distance at 347 1/2 degrees; no other eminence round the horizon to 95 degrees; the whole intervening space filled with creeks running in all directions towards the main creek, that must be distant from the hill I was on easterly nearly twenty miles with an apparent northerly course; this hill is detached from the main mass of range and distant from four to five miles. It and the most of the intervening space between the camp and it is literally one mass of quartz and quartz-reefs, mica, etc., and on top of range is a sort of flaggy slate, all apparently having undergone the action of fire—this range I have called Sarah’s Range; it bears from camp 323 degrees seven miles; a great deal of spinifex and abrupt creeks between camp and it, not a speck of gold visible but it appears to have undergone the action of fire; this is another day lost. Such detention makes me quite irritable and fidgety.
Thursday, April 24.
Camp 41. Night mild, warm morning. Bearing of 345 degrees for three miles, within which distance three tributaries from the range from the west cross us, not of any great size. Change course to 352 degrees, the ground being rather stony and full of spinifex, and the side creeks very sandy, and little hopes of water for the animals although plenty could be had for our own use. At one mile, tributary; at two miles another; four and a quarter miles another; at seven miles junction of two, where we camp; although the distance is short, the bullocks being absent this morning when I left camp, and it appears had gone towards our old camp about eight miles before they were overtaken. I hope all the animals will be at hand in the morning to enable us to make a good day of it tomorrow. Just below the junction of these two creeks (although the southern one is only a small one and in it we got the water) the creek is from 250 to 300 yards broad with splendid gums in it on its banks. Although I searched up and down the main creek some distance still no water to be found, the bed of the creek is so very sandy. My reason for camping at so short a stage was that from the top of the hill I was on I fancy I could discern a continuation of dry-looking country beyond this creek. Very little spinifex on the way today; plenty of grass and very good travelling; masses of quartz and mica all along our tracks; ridges low with some spinifex run in considerably to the east towards the main creek—lots of myall and other shrubs. The natives are busy burning on the ranges some distance west of this and have been burning daily ever since we came on the creek, and I suppose are still unaware of our presence or they would have paid us a visit. For the last 150 miles at least there have been on the slopes and tops of all the ranges decaying red anthills, not tenanted and gradually decaying—many of them appearing like sharp spires and washed in every shape by the rains and the weather.
Friday, April 25.
Camp 42. Mild night, warm morning. Animals all at hand for a good start. Bearing of 352 degrees; crossed good-sized creek at three and a half miles; another good-sized creek at eight miles; and at ten and a quarter miles another, but deep. During first part of the journey over good open white gum and myall forest; last part ridgy, with spinifex; quartz all the way; at twelve miles and a half crossed creek; at fourteen and a half miles crossed creek; native got water by digging in the sand; at sixteen and a quarter miles changed course to 5 degrees, the ridges and spurs coming too much in my way; four and three-quarter miles on this last bearing to a mound of slabs of sparkling stony-like mica, about fifty feet, and two mounds of similar form, but wooded on the right, no water; left Middleton here to tell them to camp for the night and watch the animals, and went myself westward to endeavour to find water for them in the morning and found it at three miles on bearing
Saturday, April 26.
Camp 43. Very mild night; a great many clouds; a likelihood of rain. Started on bearing of 336 degrees over a vast quantity of strong spinifex; bad travelling although not very stony. Not so much quartz today although large piles of it are to be seen. Crossed Marchant’s Creek and at one mile crossed a tributary. At ten miles came to a very fine creek about 400 yards broad, in one of its branches from sixty to eighty yards; broad water completely fills the space as far as you can see southward and westward. I have called it the Williams after Edward Williams, Esquire, of the North of Adelaide. Immense holes in a light blue rock in the creek a few hundred yards north of this full of water and apparently very deep, an abundance immediately beyond in the creek, which appears to flow northward. I have come rather a short journey today as the sheep and bullocks had no time to feed yesterday. Very cloudy and sultry. Lots of small fish in this creek, none yet seen longer than three inches; amongst them are a lot of fish about the same size or a little larger, with fine vertical black stripes commencing at the shoulder and a black tip to lower part of tail—body generally lighter-coloured than the other fish.
Sunday, April 27.
Camp 44, Williams Creek. Mild night, not so like rain this morning. Bearing of 355 degrees crossing this creek at an acute angle, crossed this creek again at three miles, crossed again at five miles—creek close on the right; at six and one-eighth miles crossed a deep tributary at its junction—heavy timber, plenty of water. Williams Creek still close on the right full of spinifex on the slopes and short rough abrupt creeks; bad travelling; at seven and three-quarter miles commenced travelling in bed of the creek, west side, till eight and three-quarter miles, the creek bearing off more to the east. At present I keep on my course of 355 degrees, over good country the latter part of course. At thirteen miles came to and crossed a splendid creek with abundance of water and lots of fish coming from the hills west and flowing apparently east. This creek I have called the Elder after Thomas Elder, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Monday, April 28.
Camp 45, Elder’s Creek. Last night we slept in the bed of the creek on the sand. There must have been a terrific flood here lately, such as this part of the world has not been visited with for many years; between thirty and forty feet over our heads in the bed of this creek are now to be seen logs, grass, and all sorts of rubbish left by it; and immense trees torn up by the roots, and others broken off short at twenty to thirty feet from their roots—showing the violence of the current. No doubt there is plenty of permanent water in the range further up in the last three creeks we have camped on. Mild morning with fleecy clouds. Wind south-south-west. Another deep creek joins this where we struck it, coming more from the south-west; water at its junction with this. Plenty of water up this creek; did not go down it. Our journey today on bearing of 355 degrees over sixteen and three-quarter miles was over good, lightly-timbered, well-grassed country and a good deal of flooded country. Saw no water but lots of birds. Shot an emu. Changed course to 347 degrees for a small hill in the distance and at two and a half miles crossed several irregular watercourses from the north flowing to south and east; went then to a small spinifex rise, timbered. At eight and a half miles struck a creek with water; I have called it Poole’s Creek after Mr. R.T. Poole of Willaston. Distance travelled today twenty-five and a half miles. After getting into camp myself and Middleton went on to the hill in front and at two and a quarter miles arrived at it. It is perfectly detached and stands in the open plain—is very stony or rather rocky. Open plains to the north and west as far as you can discern; to the north-north-east appears dark timber which I hope to be the main creek, and appears to be bearing to north and west. A couple of isolated hills from fifteen to twenty miles off bearing respectively, the southern one 251 1/2 degrees, the northern one 254 degrees. The southern one I have called Mount Elephant, the one to the north Mount McPherson, and the one I am on Margaret. Another in the distance bearing 258 degrees.
Tuesday, April 29.
Camp 46, Poole’s Creek. This creek takes its rise from the westward on the plains between this and the hills which are now a considerable distance from us; and after passing this encampment bears to east round by north. Mild morning, wind easterly. Shot two young emus. Pass over immense plains with small belts of bushes here and there and in places more especially near the isolated hill on the plain. At eleven and a quarter miles further came to a watercourse from the westward and flowing considerably to north of east with plenty of water. Camped to give sheep and bullocks time to feed, as it was half-past 8 p.m. ere they reached their camp last night, and one of the bullocks considerably lame. Distance travelled about thirteen and a half miles. Instead of plains,
Wednesday, April 30.
Camp 47. Blackfellows burning grass to east-south-east of us; the first bushfire we have seen; morning pleasant with wind from south-south-east. Some or nearly all complained of being sick after eating the first emu, but I liked it much and so did some of the others; they are a great acquisition and have saved us three sheep; the largest weighed when ready for the pot forty-eight pounds; the smaller ones when ready for use thirty-one and thirty-three pounds, and are much better than the old one. The grass passed over yesterday although abundant is rank and not of that sweet description we have before seen, but no doubt excellent for cattle and horses. Just as the animals were being brought in for packing Davis found, in a small shallow pool nearly dry, numbers of small nice-looking fish of two sorts—longest not more than three and a half inches; one sort like the catfish of the Murray, the other spotted like a salmon. For five miles over timbered plains on a bearing of 345 degrees; at three and a half miles struck a small creek coming from west and south with plenty of water; and at five and a quarter miles further an immense deep creek with water (gum) crossed at rightangles from the western banks which are very precipitous. I have called it the Jessie. At six miles came to and crossed a noble river, now a creek as it is not running, but plenty of water; from 300 to 400 yards broad. At crossing the first, cabbage palm seen on its western bank between this and the last creek; on left of course is a splendid belt of white gums on the dry sound flat; this river, like the other creek, flows from south of west after crossing a northerly and easterly course; I have called it the Jeannie after a young lady friend of mine. At fourteen and a half miles came to a fine lagoon running easterly and westerly; good water in abundance; went round it and camped north-west side, as the natives are firing close by on the south-east side; distance nineteen and a half miles. For some considerable distance back it has been an open timbered country; plenty of myall and useful white butt gum; drainage as yet all to the east and slightly north. I thought the Jeannie bore more north but it bore off again to the eastward; no game of any kind seen today except a turkey; a great quantity of vines on which grows four or five black fruit, like peas and extremely
Thursday, May 1.
Camp 48. Beautiful cool breeze from east-south-east; one native seen by Palmer (who was behind with the bullocks) running the tracks of the horses and camels, but when he saw Palmer he was off at full speed; it is strange we don’t fall in with more of them in a country where there appears to be lots of food and water for them; started on bearing of 330 degrees, at 120 yards crossed a partially dry lagoon, at a quarter of a mile another, then splendid open forest, well timbered and grassed; at two and a quarter miles struck a creek flowing about 20 degrees north of east, deep sandy bed, no water, followed it down for one mile bearing 70 degrees and crossed, not being able to get up the opposite banks being so abrupt; although there is no water here no doubt from the look of the creek there is abundance both above and below, dead palm tree branches amongst the creek-wash; bearing of 330 degrees through splendid open forest and well grassed; at one mile crossed the same creek flowing to north of west, at three and a quarter miles struck it again and crossed it flowing to north of east, and just in a turning to north, still no water in its bed, at three and three-quarter miles struck it again but did not cross it, it appearing to bear to north-east out of our tracks; bearing of 290 degrees one mile, creek on right hand; bearing of 330 degrees five miles; then bearing of 322 1/2 degrees for one and three-quarter miles; bearing of 330 degrees three miles over open plains with a few shrubs occasionally, came to a small creek flowing to north of east, plenty of water; distance travelled seventeen and three-quarter miles; the grass on all the very open country was very dry and little substance in it, along the large creek passed and crossed various times reeds first met with; the large creek when last seen was bearing to west of north a long distance off, beyond an open plain; the creek I am now upon divides into several branches just here, which makes this one so small. Shot a new bird—dark grey, large tail, something like a pheasant in its flight; it always starts from the ground and settles awkwardly on the trees, its tail appearing a nuisance to it; the specimen shot is too much torn for preservation. The days now are very warm and the nights very agreeable. Short as the time is since they must have had the rain here it is astonishing how it has dried up in many places. The large creek crossed yesterday I have called the William after a young friend of mine.
Friday, May 2.
Camp 49. Beautiful morning; wind south-south-west. Bearing 330 degrees over a plain and at three miles crossed a watercourse flowing east; at three and three-quarter miles crossed another with plenty of water on right hand flowing to north of east; at seven and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a narrow deep creek, plenty water, about fifty yards wide, and have named it the Dugald, flowing north-north-east; small ranges visible at crossing this creek; beyond a plain at south-west; nice open forest before crossing this creek; at ten and a quarter miles over small stony plain, or rather bald hill, as it ascends and descends; came to and crossed a box and gum small watercourse; dry at crossing; first part over plain and latter part over myall forest undulations; at twelve and three-quarter miles came to irregular small creeks flowing to north-north-east, plenty of water; at eighteen miles came to a small creek from the ridges on our left with sufficient water for all useful purposes. From the last creek, undulations of fair and spinifex country; and slopes of ridges covered with spinifex (slopes to northward). At this creek there are a number of beautiful shady trees, leaves about four or five inches broad and from five to six inches long; besides gums and various other trees. Spinifex on both sides of the creek down to its edge. A hill of no great height ahead of us in our course for tomorrow. Saw plenty of turkey.
Saturday, May 3.
Camp 50. Fleecy clouds; wind east-south-east, blew pretty strong towards morning. Started on bearing of 330 degrees; for first three miles over spinifex ridge then small grass flat and another small spinifex ridge; at four miles over a good-sized plain (drainage all towards south and west towards heavy timber—where there is I suppose a large creek or river from the south) and across a small spinifex stony range. Cleared it at twelve and a quarter miles, following along the slopes of the hills, drainage west and north; at fourteen miles came to a watercourse, drainage north, abundance of water; followed along numerous watercourses both on right and left with plenty of water, and along what is here the principal creek—not so much water in it although it is better defined. Camped at sixteen miles. The feed on the open ground is as dry as tinder and not at all of first-class quality, the only green feed being about the creek and watercourses. A great abundance of those fine shady broad-leaved trees; they would be a great ornament in a park; it bears an abundance of seed but not ripe at present although I have taken some of it. Very sultry.
Sunday, May 4.
Camp 51. Mild night and morning. Our small stock of sheep got out of the fold in the night and half of them are missing this morning; I hope they may be got. Sky a good deal overcast. Wind east. I am glad that the missing sheep, after a little looking for, were found close by; the loss of them would have deprived us of at least seven days’ food, which would be no light matter in a country where we seldom can even shoot a duck, much less sufficient for all the party who are now, I am happy to say, in excellent health. As this creek—which I have called Davis Creek after one of the party—bears a good deal on my course of yesterday, and has a good many irregularities near the bank which make it rough travelling, I have changed my course to north-west or 315 degrees; at one mile cleared the creek although it keeps pretty close on my present course and appears to be hemmed in on the right by the last ridge I crossed yesterday; then over plains and belts of myall gum; at five and three-quarter miles crossed a small creek flowing northward over similar country, but more sound; at ten and a half miles crossed a couple of small creeks flowing northward (the natives burning a short distance on our left); then over a variety of fair open country and a small portion of very thick and scrubby myall forest; then over spinifex ridge; then over well grassed tablelands for several miles; then over pretty thickly timbered spinifex rise of considerable length; and lastly for the last five miles over plains, light belts of timber here and there; got to a creek with sufficient water at twenty-seven and three-quarter miles. Long day, rather; did not see a drop of water the whole way, but I fancy we could have had what we desired at the early part of the day but we did not require it. The sheep and bullocks got to camp about 8 o’clock p.m., an astonishing journey for the poor little fellows; they are now, with the constant travelling and the long coarse grass, falling off in condition, but had they the feed they were accustomed to they would be much better; as it is they are far from poor—kidneys well-covered yet and fairish caul fat.
Monday, May 5.
Camp 52. Mild night with dew and calm, still morning; very cloudy and rainy-like to north and south of east. Heard a native wailing for some lost friend or relation during the night but as yet have seen none of them, although they were burning on left of our track yesterday within two miles. This creek comes from southward and flows to west of north considerably; it is well defined with box timber, but not at all deep; it appears more like a side creek to a larger stream. There is here a considerable plain on both sides and as yet no main creek visible although I fancy there must be one, all the drainage yesterday being to left of our course, no doubt to meet some large creek to south and west. Started on bearing of 315 degrees; crossed the creek obliquely at starting; then over a plain; at three and a quarter
Tuesday, May 6.
Camp 53. Dull morning, cloudy, wind south-south-west. A vast number of galahs, corellas, macaws, cockatoo parrots, hawks, and crows here. Started on bearing of 310 degrees over alternate plains and through belts of small timber. At seven miles passed swampy country where some heavy belts of timber are to the right of course. A great number of birds; water I am sure could be had if required; over alternate plains and strips of forest as before. At seventeen and three-quarter miles came to a native camp near swamp (water). Saw two of them in the distance some few miles further, but they scampered off and I did not go after them. Over similar country, latterly more open and even. At twenty-two and a half miles struck the Leichhardt River at what appears an island. Plenty of deep water; banks too precipitous for the animals to water. Followed down it bearing 330 degrees for two and a half miles and came to a bend of the river. Good sound watering-place; shingly and sandy beach for about a mile. Camped near the upper end of it. Hodgkinson caught a small fish; large one seen but not caught. It is a splendid river and from bank to bank is from 150 to 180 yards where we are encamped; but the water is here and for nearly a mile confined to a space of fifteen to twenty yards. Here on the western side, and a little further in at a crossing-place on the eastern side where it is still running a nice little stream, stony bottom, and only a couple or three yards wide.
Wednesday, May 7.
Camp 54. Very dull morning and sultry; every appearance of rain, sky perfectly overcast. Started down bed of river on east side on bearing of 37 degrees for one and one-eighth miles; crossed; a quarter of a mile on bearing of 220 degrees; bearing 260 degrees for one mile, following along the western banks of river, where it is full of sand and timber, and fully 500 yards wide; bearing 282 degrees, still along the banks for half a mile; then bearing of 310 degrees as the river goes suddenly off north and eastward; one mile on last bearing through, since crossing river, pretty open forest land; on bearing of 352 degrees
Thursday, May 8.
Camp 55. Strong south breeze, all appearance of rain blown away. Started on bearing of 355 degrees, water in the way; at one mile, between the start and that, there were stones and a little spinifex; then over open plains, small belts of clumps of small trees; halted at nine and a half miles; water quite sufficient for our use. I never saw such flights of Sturt’s pigeons—at times completely darkening the ground over which they flew—a vast body of them seem to be wending their way to north-west from south-east, but vast numbers are here on the plains notwithstanding; natives burning on the Leichhardt in all directions, and one or two fires towards the Albert; took Middleton with me to ascertain what kind of country there is between camp and coast. On bearing of 355 degrees at six miles came to and crossed a creek, plenty of water, flowing to north-north-east; at sixteen and a half miles struck a creek with heavy box and gum timber, and water where we struck it in small lagoons and side creeks. Camped; natives burning ahead of us and a little east. A great portion of the country we have come over from camp is inundated and has now coarse grass and reeds. This creek flows here about north; south of this it comes more to the north-north-east.
Friday, May 9.
Middleton and I still out; party in camp. Started on bearing of 40 degrees; wind strong, south; at three and a half miles struck the creek, now a very considerable size and flowing to the eastward and a little south; followed it for a quarter of a mile, keeping it on the left on bearing of about 110 degrees, and crossed it at a long grassy flat; in its bed native wurlies between where we first struck it and crossed it; bearing of 40 degrees, long deep reach of water, banks well defined; bearing of 40 degrees, at three-quarters of a mile, creek, recrossed same on a bed of lava, all rent, abundance of water; at five and a half miles further struck the Leichhardt, its bed vast sheets of stones—rocks and small stones opposite side, lower down—the water in its bed is
Saturday, May 10.
Camp 56. Very cold during the night; in the morning wind south-east but beautiful weather. Started on bearing of 20 degrees over land subject to frequent inundations, with reeds thinly scattered over it and narrow belt of small timber. At twelve miles came to and crossed the creek seen on our way out on Thursday afternoon last, about six miles from camp (56 the camp). At thirteen miles struck a lagoon, then another, and another at fourteen and a quarter miles, all of which have abundance of water; at the last of which I encamped, excellent feed. I forgot to mention that yesterday on return to camp from first striking in Leichhardt’s River I observed apparently a native firing the grass a short distance on my right. I made towards it and saw one coming steadily towards us, still spying us, retreated at full speed; as I had some fish-hooks and line I was determined to pull him or her up. Started off and overtook what turned out to be a gin and her piccaninie, and had a load of something, which in her retreat she dropped. She screamed and cooeed and set fire to the grass all around us to endeavour to get rid of us, but all to no purpose. I held out to her a fish-hook but she would not take them to look at even, but busied herself screaming and firing the grass; upon which I got off the horse and approached her. She immediately lifted up her yam-stick in the position the men throw their spears, and prepared to defend herself, until
Sunday, May 11.
Camp 57. Could not have finer weather for travelling; abundance of feed, though on anything like high ground it has shed its seed and is now dry; plenty of good water as yet and fair feed round it generally. Lagoons wooded round generally with rusty gum, box, and white gum; wind east-south-east and pleasant. Started to clear some broken slopes ahead towards the river on bearing of 345 degrees. At two miles over plains came to and crossed a creek running into the river about a mile off; at two and a quarter miles changed course to 9 degrees, over open country—generally sloping to north-east from river with plenty of water on each side; at six and three-quarter miles struck the river at the falls. Messenger overtook me to say that one of the bullocks we had been using for the pack could not be brought on so determined to kill and jerk him; and went west half a mile on a small creek with running water and where the feed was better and more green than on the river. The bullock was got to camp about evening and slaughtered; plenty of guardfish, swordfish, and sharks under the falls, which are about fifty to sixty feet high with no current. Deep water above and below, and water oozing through the fissures of the rock which appears a sort of burnt limestone and indifferent agate. Found an eatable fruit on a handsome tree of the palm kind.
Monday, May 12.
Camp 58. Wind south-south-west; not an ounce of fat upon the bullock; won’t take so long to jerk. I started out today to examine the country ahead, taking with me Middleton and Poole. At one mile over plain 5 degrees; changed course to 355 degrees; at five and a half miles struck the river and changed course to 285 degrees; at five-sixths of a mile struck and crossed creek from south to river; at two and five-sixths miles crossed smaller one from same direction; at a quarter of a mile further changed course to 340 degrees; at eleven and three-quarter miles over very bad travelling country, plains subject
Tuesday, May 13.
Started on bearing of 330 degrees for a distant point like river timber which turned out to be a small hill or ridge with spinifex; a lagoon on the left at its base; struck it at five miles. At five and a half miles changed course to 355 degrees; at ten miles first part over firm, small, stony plains, good country; then at four miles crossed a salty timberless creek; and then over a succession of salt swampy flats with grassy plots intervening. Middleton’s mare Counterfeit knocked up and he had to stay with her. I and Poole went on on a bearing of 355 degrees still; at two miles came to a mangrove creek; at two and a quarter miles the banks of the Albert River; salt arm, from half to three-quarters of a mile broad. Returned to Middleton and started back for the Leichhardt River on bearing of 110 degrees to camp, as soon as we could get water and feed, to endeavour to get the mare back to camp or part of the way. On bearing of 110 degrees for about four miles, first part over salt swamps; passed a long rocky lagoon full of water and half a mile long from north to south, and several other smaller ones between that and the river; mangrove banks in all the flat parts. Banks on this side treeless; country much burnt up. Top tide at least five hours earlier than when we camped last night; caught a few fish—in all about enough for one but had to do for the three of us. Rise and fall of river somewhere about five feet.
Wednesday, May 14.
Wind south; was very cloudy during the night and this morning; mosquitoes very troublesome during the night. Bearing homewards 170 to 215 degrees for the first eight or ten miles, leaving Poole and Middleton to get on to our first camp till I bring on the party on the morrow. Got to camp myself a little after sundown, and to my disgust found all the camels astray and Bell and Davis in search of them.
Thursday, May 15.
Start Hodgkinson and Maitland on to Middleton and Poole’s camp with four horses, bedding, and provisions on such a course, 25 1/2 degrees west of north, as will cut their camp. No tidings of the camels. I went out and hunted about for them till noon, and just as I got to camp Bell and Davis returned, having camped out all night after them, but saw nothing of them—the ground is so hard they leave so little impression on the ground that it is a difficult thing to trace them; however they have got bells and hobbles on and will at once be again sent after, with, I hope, more success. I am exceedingly annoyed at the detention here, more so as the animals don’t do so well here as they have done. Hunted still during the afternoon for them, but without success. All spare hands will start out in search in the morning; it will be the sound of the bells or the sight of them only that will recover them, as track them we cannot in this dry country. Promised the party a treat on arriving within the influence of the sea on the north coast, so had baked some flour kept in reserve and each had a liberal allowance served out to him—that with fresh and excellent mutton and some salt I brought back from the flats gave all quite a treat. Sent Poole and Middleton theirs on by Hodgkinson and Maitland, which in their present half-starved condition would be a still greater treat. We would all have been in better spirits had the camels not been absent, but will hunt well for them tomorrow and trust we may recover them.
Friday, May 16.
I with Bell and Davis started out first thing after the camels, leaving Palmer, Wylde and Kirby in camp. Searched back towards the old camp again although they had assured me they had thoroughly searched all the leading creeks, but I had little faith in their search, which the result proved. At about six miles south-south-west in one of the creeks that they particularly assured me had been well-searched I, with Davis, found their traces (Bell having been sent in another direction) and after losing their track for about six or seven hours succeeded in finding them about twelve or thirteen miles south and west of this, I fancy more by accident than anything else, at about an hour and a half to sunset, and immediately started to camp where they arrived all right and are now tied up for the night ready for a morning start, and very glad am I that they are found.
Saturday, May 17.
Camp 58. Sultry, wind east. All the animals ready for a start and happy am I to turn my back on this camp which I call Rowdy Creek Falls Camp after the poor little bullock we killed here, which gave us about 70 pounds of such stuff as one could hardly imagine without seeing it—nothing like a particle of fat visible anywhere and excessively tasteless. It is fortunate our two remaining bullocks are in better condition or we would not be in the most enviable plight on our arrival at the settled
Sunday, May 18.
Camp 59. Wind easterly; heavy bank of dark clouds to the west and the sun rose not so bright as usual. Over open plains, bad travelling; on bearing of 340 degrees at four and a quarter miles struck an immense lagoon (semicircular) and kept it on our right for nearly three-quarters of a mile, then still bore 340 degrees for one-seventh of a mile further; then changed course to 17 degrees; at half a mile struck and went through a swampy lagoon going east; at three and a quarter miles river close by on the right; at four and three-quarter miles came to large lagoons in our course; went a little to the left and passed between two, appears to be a very heavy one to the left close by. Still on bearing of 17 degrees; at one and a quarter miles further large lagoon close on right; a couple of hundred yards further on on the right is a fine creek with abundance of water and game; at eight miles crossed it still on bearing of 17 degrees; at two miles further on struck a fine large mangrove creek, a very pretty spot like an orange grove. Bearing of 321 1/2 degrees for two miles; then bearing of 35 degrees, crossed the sea running in through mangrove creeks into the flats like a sluice, and camped at
Monday, May 19.
Camp 60. In camp near the river where are caught occasionally by the party a few fish, amongst others a young shark which however was not eaten; started out this morning with the intention of going to the beach, taking with me Middleton, Poole, Wylde and Kirby, but was quite unsuccessful, being hindered by deep and broad mangrove creeks and boggy flats over which our horses could not travel. I consider we are now about four or five miles from the coast; there is a rise here in the river of six and two-thirds feet today but yesterday it was a foot higher; killed our three remaining sheep and will retrace our steps on 21st.
Tuesday, May 20.
Camp 60. Wind yesterday from north and north and east, at daylight this morning from north, and during the day pretty nearly from all quarters; afternoon kept more steady from east; sent Hodgkinson and Poole to the salt flats to collect what will be sufficient for our homeward rambles, or rather the Queensland settled districts, where we hope to arrive in due time, the state of the clothing of the party and want of various things—the principal thing, food, has prevented my directing the steps of the party to the settled districts of South Australia. A few natives came to the opposite side of the river this morning during flood-tide and got up in the trees, and I was a long time in getting any of them persuaded to cross; at length two of them and then another middle-aged man ventured on my displaying a tomahawk to them; they were of the ordinary stamp, and strange to say were neither circumcised nor had they any of their front teeth out, but were marked down the upper part of the arm and on the breast and back; after making them a few presents they recrossed; no information from them, but perhaps we may see something more of them on a future day. Hodgkinson and Poole returned with from forty to fifty pounds of good salt, sufficient for our purpose, and we start in the morning to proceed as far as the Falls, and cross the river there in the event of not finding a crossing earlier, which I don’t expect. The camels I am sorry to say are getting lame by the burnt stumps of reeds and strong coarse grass entering the soles of their feet, I hope they will soon recover. If the bar at the mouth of the river will admit vessels to enter there is a sufficiency of water at all tides to ship horses or stock from alongside the banks without any wharf or anything else, and good country to depasture upon, but the grasses too strong generally for sheep.
Wednesday, May 21.
Camp 60. Commenced our journey for Port Denison, wind east-south-east. I forgot to mention before that, running parallel with the river between this camp and our last, are small ironstone and conglomerate ridges, with abundance of feed and good sound ground wooded with the silver leaf, dwarf gum-looking tree, and various others of no great growth but sightly, and in the ridges, which are of no height to speak of, there are splendid freshwater lagoons and creeks; came to a lagoon about two and a half miles south-south-west of our 59 camp on nearly our old tracks; splendid feed and water. Just as we had started in the morning the natives made their appearance on the trees on the opposite side of the river but did not attempt to cross. I suppose we will see enough of them on our eastern route; this part of the country is well watered and no end of feed; plenty of it higher than I am, and a considerable variety; the remainder of our sheep, even with their long journey, fell off but little.
Thursday, May 22.
Return Camp 1. Beautiful morning; this lagoon is about twelve feet deep, surrounded by a marsh with abundance of green feed. Not a breath of wind at sunrise. West of this camp about two and a half miles off is a considerable-sized creek, by the overflow of which this lagoon is formed and fed; plenty of water in the creek and in side creeks from it, and most excellent timber on its banks and flats for building purposes; it comes up from south-west and after passing this bears off considerably to west of north. I have called it the Fisher after C.B. Fisher, Esquire, of Adelaide. Returned today by my north-going track, the approaches to the river were so abrupt that I could not get a crossing-place; some of the banks nearly precipitous and from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet high, although I saw rocks right across the river and could have gone over, but could not ascend the banks so came to camp at a lagoon close to the creek, three and a half miles north 25 1/2 degrees west of Falls camp. This creek, which comes up from the south-west and flows past this for some miles yet before it joins the river about north-north-east of this, I have called Boord’s Creek after Samuel Boord, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Friday, May 23.
Camp 2. Started on bearing of 135 degrees; at starting crossed the creek, and at three and a half miles made the river where it is joined by another of quite equal size apparently but no crossing-place; so had to go about one mile south-south-west to the Falls and crossed there with some difficulty, getting one of the camels and several of the horses down on the clefts of the rocks and barking their knees a little: just after crossing and proceeding on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees a marked tree was observed, the first we had seen, and then close by two others, evidently by Mr. Landsborough. They were respectively marked on the large tree next the Falls, a large broad-leafed
Saturday, May 24.
Camp 3. Heavy dew of late; last afternoon wind fresh from west-south-west; same this morning but light; geese and all game very difficult to be got at in this part of the country. Natives burning in all directions but do not approach us; I almost fancy they have been reproved for some of their misdeeds to some one or other of the parties here lately, from their shyness. Bearing of 95 1/2 degrees, half a mile stony flat; one mile, stony ridge and ironstone flat; two and three-quarter miles small creek; lagoon with plenty of water. North-north-east open undulations rather swampy; at three and three-quarter miles struck and crossed a small creek with a little water, stony ridges (ironstone) rusty gum, spinifex, etc.; at eleven and three-quarter miles crossed creek with water from north-east. Left creek at 11.45; stony ridges, ironstone and slate, with a little spinifex; rather thickly wooded with rusty gum, silver-leafed gum, etc.; anthills, turreted shapes. At twenty-one and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a creek on a plain between ranges; it flows north and east and takes its rise in the ranges close by to the south-west; plenty of water and feed. Camped at 3.30 p.m.; take three and a quarter miles off journey = eighteen and a half.
Sunday, May 25.
Camp 4. No dew; started at 8.35 a.m.; wind south a.m.; afternoon south-east. Over half a mile open plain; then ridges, and on top of first range at 9.53; very rocky; spinifex, rusty gum, etc. At twenty minutes past ten stony flat; at twenty-five minutes past ten crossed creek; at 12 o’clock along creek on the left; at 12.15 rocky hill on right and lagoon with water close under; top of next hill at 12.50; at 1.5 on the open plains and undulations and pretty well clear of the stones. Tier of ranges immediately on the left for a mile or so; at 2.18 crossed dry creek from west-south-west; at 2.28 came to another creek from the south-west. They are both dry where struck; followed the last one down, bearing of 60 degrees for one-third of a mile; water in creek and in a lagoon on the east side; travelling about six hours besides the one-third of a mile. Creek flows to north-east; distance about eighteen miles.
Monday, May 26.
Camp 5. I find that my watch, the only one in going order or rather disorder, gains eleven minutes in the hour with the regulator hard back to slow—now and then, without any apparent cause, stops; until by sundry shakings and bumps it is prevailed upon to go again—which is most unsatisfactory, situated as I am here, in calculating distances. Wind all night strong from south-east to south-south-east and very cold; no dew. The waters are drying up very fast; during the afternoon of yesterday the country looked well; nice open ranges on all sides with a large space of open country, well grassed in the centre. Started at 8.15 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 9.17 passed till this time rather thickly wooded (low) small ironstone, pebbly country, well grassed—ridgy on both sides; at 9.17 entered open plains; large creek ahead; first part of plain much subject to inundation; at 11.24 lagoon apparently about one mile south. Hills cease south about four miles; passed a couple of belts of timber, mistaken in the distance for large creek. At 1 p.m. swampy (dry); at 1.15 small creek with plenty of water and feed, from west-south-west to north-east or east-north-east; at 1.30 made a swamp with good feed and water. Camped; distance about seventeen miles. The horizon appears to be one dense cloud of fire and smoke on our way and on all sides of us; saw no natives.
Tuesday, May 27.
Camp 6. Cold keen wind from south-south-east. The camels I am sorry to say are very lame, caused by the burnt reeds running through the soles of their feet whilst near the coast; boots of leather have been made for the worst of them but they seem to suffer much, and it pulls the flesh off them more than their work. Started at 8.40 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 9.15 lagoon close by on the left; country all burnt. At 9.45 struck large creek with abundance of water, boggy where struck; spelled, looking for a crossing till 10.5. Went down the creek north-east
Wednesday, May 28.
Camp 7. The bullocks (two) with Palmer and Kirby on horseback and Maitland on foot did not come up to camp last night, but immediately after sunrise the two horsemen and bullocks arrived, but not Maitland, he being on foot from having injured his horse so much as to render him unfit to ride, as is his usual way with every horse he gets, taking no care of him whatever. I told him when he injured the last that if he did the same to this one he should walk; and good to my word I made him walk yesterday. Rode a short distance at sunrise, having heard some native companions calling out after daylight, and found within a quarter of a mile of us, almost within view, two splendid lagoons. Immediately returned to camp and moved it at once to the nearest one; it bears from last night’s camp nearly due south, a quarter of a mile or little over; the other lagoon is distant about 300 yards south-east of this. Great abundance of feed. As the camels are lame and in need of a spell and we want to kill a bullock and Maitland not come up yet I have made up my mind to stop here till all are put in travelling order. In the morning the wind bitterly cold from south-east to south-south-east. Middleton has been laid up for the last three days and lost the use of his legs yesterday afternoon but hope he will soon be all right again. He is much better today; I should get on indifferently without him. Although we met with no water coming along last afternoon I have no doubt but that there was plenty of it, as the natives were burning everywhere as we came along, particularly close on our right. It is still a splendid country for grass and timber. As soon as we moved to camp we had one of the bullocks (Boxer) up and killed; he is very fair beef. The other is not so good, but stands being kept in hobbles; whereas this one would not or he would have been kept till last on account of his better condition. Providentially Maitland made his way to camp late this afternoon. Had we been obliged to go on again a stage without luckily hitting upon this place I think he would have gone frantic as he appeared in a sad state of mind on his arrival; I hope it will be a caution to him in future to see to his horse better.
Thursday, May 29.
Camp 8. Wind as yesterday and cool. I am sorry to say I have three of the party on the sicklist—all seized first with cold shivering then excessive heat, ultimately a numbness and want of proper use of their limbs, sickness, and want of appetite and headache. They are Middleton, Hodgkinson, and Kirby. They are confined to bed; but I hope with a little care will soon recover, as it is an awkward part of the world to be taken ill in. Getting the meat jerked and putting the pack-bags, etc., to rights. The other bullock as yet appears to stay contented; he came up during the night and took a survey of his dead companion and quietly returned to his feed.
Friday, May 30.
Camp 8. Wind as usual, south-east to south-south-east; keen and cold, the day pretty warm. The invalids I think a little better, but far from well. The sore-footed camels improve; but my impression is that their feet will not thoroughly get well till they arrive in the settled districts where they can have a spell for some time. Meat-drying, bag-mending, horse-shoeing, with other little matters. If these lagoons are permanent (and no doubt there are many more) this is a splendid pastoral country, feed good enough for any stock and timber to suit almost any purpose. There are here several fruit-bearing trees but unfortunately the stone happens to be the largest portion of the fruit and at present none of them are ripe. A vast quantity of large beans are here on a runner, the same that Dr. Leichhardt used, when burnt, for coffee and rather seemed to like. None of our party seem to care trying it, although we have now nothing but meat and salt and from four to five pounds of flour to make gruel in case of sickness. All have been till within the last few days in excellent health and nowise short of appetite. From the time we are out beyond what was anticipated I suppose the people of Adelaide have given us up as lost. I hope however they will not think it necessary to send a search party out after us.
Saturday, May 31.
Patients about the same. Middleton rather worse. Wind in the morning from south-east and south-south-east, at midday changed to east, then north and afterwards to north-north-west. Meat nearly dry.
Sunday, June 1.
Still in Camp 8. Patients about the same, very weak and feverish, but must endeavour to make a move tomorrow. Wind from north, north-west to west, and rather warm. Had a visit from a number of natives, they do not appear so shy as usual; they do not circumcise but have one or two teeth out in front of upper jaw. From what I could see the young men are not allowed to talk, but merely making a hissing and twittering noise to make themselves understood, and pointing and motioning with the hand whilst the old men do the talking business. I could make but little out of them. I made them a few presents with which they seemed much pleased;
Monday, June 2.
Camp 8. The heaviest dew last night I have experienced for many years, accompanied by a dense fog till between 8 and 9 a.m. Wind from west-north-west. Palmer attacked with same fever that the rest have. The others very weak but I think a little better. Made a start this morning at 9.20 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 10.14 lagoon on right; at 10.27 crossed creek with plenty of water from south-south-west; at 11.50 lagoon on right—all forest land with a greater number of the paper-bark tree than any other; at 11.15 much spinifex; at 11.20 creek close on left with plenty of water; at 11.35 crossed creek, it goes off into many lagoons southwards and eastwards; good grass and plenty of water, not much spinifex, the country rather too thickly wooded to be open forest. Halted at lagoons on the left at 1.20 coming from south of east and flowing to north of west. Although this country is rather too thickly wooded to be called open forest it is still an excellent pastoral country, the grasses sweet and plenty of water, the lagoons being covered with nymphans or waterlily, and the soil sandy. We passed many patches of burnt ground, some burnt earlier than the rest, having green grass nine to twelve inches high. Stopped short today on account of the patients who are very weak, Kirby in particular; distance travelled twelve and a half miles. In the afternoon wind from west-north-west. Saw nothing of the natives this morning before starting. Several palms seen through the forest, a few close by this camp of no great height; the feed in general is very dry except in the neighbourhood of the creeks or lagoons.
Tuesday, June 3.
Camp 9. Wind south; considerable dew but nothing to the night before. There is a good deal of spinifex here and the timber is nothing like so strong or good as around yesterday’s camp and for miles on all sides of it. Three creeks appear to rise here and join and become one, all from the southward of east to north of west. Started at 9.8 a.m., the horses having strayed some distance back to the burnt feed. Bearing 95 1/2 degrees, open forest with spinifex; at 10.30 crossed small creek (dry); at 10.45 crossed small sandy creek (dry) water on the right; at 11.30 watered horses and then crossed creek from west-south-west to east-north-east, small creek
Wednesday, June 4.
Camp 10, or Harry’s Camp, after our dead horse. Wind southerly. Started at 7.18 a.m., still on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; crossed sandy creek (dry) from north-east to east-south-east; at 9.52 crossed same creek still dry running to north of east; at 9.15 recrossed same; at 9.20 recrossed; at 9.25 recrossed the creek not far off on the right; country rather scrubby. Sent Hodgkinson to follow the creek round to ascertain if water existed in it and if so to stop or overtake us. Went on till about 10.30 when Hodgkinson overtook us having found sufficient water for our use. Returned at once to it about a mile back and camped. The old female camel done up; will leave her saddle as it is much knocked about and divide her load between the others and the horses; she may follow which I think she will; distance on course to camp about eight and a half miles. The patients improving, Kirby remains very weak and spiritless. This morning wind cool from southward; during the day changed round to east-south-east and in the evening to west-south-west and rather cloudy. This is a wretched little creek, for some miles sandy, now in its bed are layers of stone and clay; it frequently loses itself on the flat land. The timber in the forest consists of two kinds of papery-leafed bark trees, box, gum, and a very handsome tree, leafless but bears a flower, besides various shrubs, etc., and spinifex.
Thursday, June 5.
Camp 11. Mild morning, wind from southward and cool, no dew. Started at 9.4 on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees. Creek close on right. At 9.37 crossed creek. At 9.48 receives a tributary from east-south-east (no water). Very scrubby for a few miles and then more open forest. At 12.38 came to a large and broad creek or mass of creeks or river. Water not abundant on account of its being sandy in its bed. As the camels have had to be tied up for the last two nights, the country being so densely timbered, I stay here and camp. Followed the river down about three-quarters of a mile west-north-west, which appears to be its course. Here it is upwards of 300 yards broad, banks no great height. Distance on course ten and three-quarter miles. Wind about 11 a.m. changed round to east and north of east and warm; as we got to camp it blew gently from west-north-west. Patients except Kirby mending gradually. I should imagine the river to be the Flinders but if so it must turn after it passes this very much to the west to enter the sea near where it is laid down on the charts. Its bed pretty well the whole way across is wooded with the paper-like barked, narrow-leafed tree, and a few other shrubs. It appears as if there was not at all a heavy flood down it this season as few or none of the trees are washed down.
Friday, June 6.
Camp 12. Dull morning, rather cloudy. Patients much improved. The female camel left behind yesterday has not made her appearance yet, still I have little doubt but that she will follow. Not a breath of wind at sunrise. Started at 8.17 a.m. Still on general course bearing of 95 1/2 degrees over open-timbered, well-grassed land. Afterwards at 10.11 came to and crossed same river from north-north-east to south-south-west. It was not far off all the morning to the right. Spelled seven minutes till 10.18. At 10.36 recrossed river where it is stony and rocky with sand in its bed, coming from south. At 11.3 struck river on right but did not cross. Followed along its north-east bank till 11.15. Still close by at 11.27. At 12.50 crossed small sandy creek from south. Spelled for six minutes till 12.56. Then bearing along the creek till 1.11 p.m. on bearing of 325 degrees three-quarters of a mile; distance on proper course 95 1/2 degrees thirteen and a quarter miles. Just after camping I found that what I take to be the River Binoe is about 120 yards east of us, flowing about 322 degrees, with a lagoon on east bank, with yellow lilies. The small creek we are camped on has plenty of water. The Binoe River has none just here. All the creeks and the river have lots of cork-screw palms in and near them. Good forest all day and abundance of grass.
Saturday, June 7.
Camp 13. But little dew last night. The old camel has not come on; perhaps she will remain until she freshens up a little and then shape her way south or east. No wind, beautiful morning. Hodgkinson shot a native companion; have seen no game for some days. Started at 8.40 on bearing of 110 degrees. In four minutes crossed the Binoe. At 9.8 came to and recrossed river or creek Binoe. At 9.45 crossed creek with rocky bed and with water from east by south. Spelled five minutes till 9.50. Quartz ridges. At twelve o’clock spurs running to south and west. At 1.40 from top of hill dismal view seen ahead; nothing but bare burnt up ranges. Struck the River Flinders or one of its largest branches at 2.18 p.m. Crossed over and camped at a long sheet of water in its bed on south-eastern side. Distance on course sixteen and three-quarter miles. The journey today has been over thick scrubby forest which tore our pack-bags a good deal. From 9 a.m. the ground was a good deal strewed over with small ironstone pebbles, not bronzed as they usually are, till 9.45 then ridges and ranges of quartz and sandstone. Drainage south and west. A high range on the left, some 6 to eight miles off, wooded to its top. Immediately below it runs the Binoe I think. Course of the range is about 100 degrees. This watercourse comes here from the north-north-east or even north of that, and bears away to the south-south-west as far as discernible. Wind during the day from east to south-east. As this is a good place for killing I will kill our last bullock as he has become
Sunday, June 8.
Camp 14. Wind from east and north of east in the morning. Cutting up and drying the beef; the fat drying won’t detain us. A great abundance of the River McKenzie bean here on the sandy parts of the watercourse. Here the watercourse is about 100 yards broad, in many places bergues of sand separating it into different channels. Wild dogs abundant. Saw traces of kangaroo, emu, and wallaby on our way here yesterday. Wind changed during the afternoon to south-east and south-south-east. This sheet of water is from 250 to 300 yards long and twenty yards broad. Kirby much better and the others getting quite convalescent.
Monday, June 9.
In Camp 14. Drying the beef, shoeing, mending pack-bags, and various other little things etc. No dew last night. Still morning. Most beautiful weather. What little wind there is is from south by west but hardly perceptible. I took Middleton with me to go out to reconnoitre and feel our way for next stage through the hills ahead. Found that the watercourse comes from north or a little west of north from between the heavy-timbered ranges to north and west, and bald hills, or nearly so, to north and east, and probably winds round nearer its source more to the east. A number of thinly-wooded hills with small creeks running from them to west and south appear to run round south for some distance, perhaps ten to fifteen miles or more. Beyond the highest in the distance the natives are busy burning, and this leads me to suppose they are on the other or principal branch of the Flinders River; but I shall know more about it in a few days. Abundance of water in the small creeks as far east and south as I went today and some lagoons in the flats. The natives commence their range of fires from 20 degrees west of south to 30 degrees east of south, and I think I shall find that it will meet me on my course. Wind in the afternoon from south by east, strong occasionally, towards evening it died away. Beef now dry. We start from here tomorrow if all is right and we have nothing more to detain us. The horses are shod except one and that one, one of the best, no shoes being large enough. I hope he will be able to get along. Our food now consists of about 230 pounds of dry and salt beef, everything else in the shape of food gone but I think we will have sufficient to carry us into the settled districts of Queensland on the Burdekin River where we will be able to get a fresh supply. We have a little salt and amongst the lot about half a pound of soap.
Wednesday, June 11.
Camp 14. The bed of this branch here is one mass of concrete and conglomerate, with small and large masses of ironstone, just as if it had lately escaped from a furnace, with pebbles and pieces of quartz, some sandstone, and sandstone in which is a mass of quartz. In many other places it is quite a bed of sand its full width, and in other places separated into different branches by bergues of alluvial deposit and sand, with trees of different kinds and shrubs and reeds upon them. There is a table-topped hill down on or near the north-west bank a few miles, lightly wooded from north-north-east to south-west and apparently stony. Not a breath of wind at daylight; afterwards in forenoon from east-south-east. Started at 8.30 a.m. on bearing of 110 degrees, for first few miles through open forest intersected with small creeks flowing to west and south, some containing water with lagoons on the flat occasionally, the drainage of the ranges to the eastward and north of our course. The spurs coming down close on our left stony but well-grassed and very lightly timbered, in fact nearly bald ridges. Over first stony ridge at 10.10 and considerable-sized double creek at 10.17, dry at crossing. Top of next high range at 11.15; five and a quarter miles. Very extensive view. Spelled on top of hill waiting for the camels for forty-five minutes till noon. Then started on bearing of 127 1/2 degrees for south-west end of large range in the distance that would otherwise come right across my original course. There is an immense large black circular range from 127 1/2 degrees round by east to west-north-west, with reaphooky faces and scrubby tops, and a number of detached conical and coronet-topped hills. At 1 p.m. water in a rocky creek close to the right. Watered the horses. Spelled ten minutes till 1.10. Crossed creek at 1.15. Sandy, scrubby forest. Crossed another sandy creek at 1.57. Crossed another sandy creek at 2.3. At 3.15 on top of rocky mulga hill with granite and mass of quartz pebbles. Some difficulty in getting over and down a rocky range (granite principally). Struck a small creek with sufficient water for our use and good feed, and camped at 3.50 at distance of ten and three-quarters to eleven miles on last bearing. Distance travelled about sixteen miles. Course of the ranges close by, the one that we last crossed and the one just close by before us, 40 degrees west of south with the drainage in same direction.
Thursday, June 12.
Camp 15. Dewless night, wind at daylight east-north-east. Started at 8.6 a.m. on bearing of 127 1/2 degrees, top of first mulga range after passing over very rough ranges; at 9.20 struck creek north-east of the large range I am making for, watered horses, etc. After scrambling and creeping over rocks and precipices arrived at south-west end of large hill; at 10.15 at about three miles spelled for thirty-four minutes till 10.39. From top of hill on which there is
Friday, June 13.
Camp 16. Dewless night, wind from east by north. I take this to be the main branch of the Flinders; the hills on its right proper banks are very bold and must be over 3000 feet high. If they are not before named I have called them Gregory’s Ranges after Augustus Gregory, Esquire, now Surveyor-General of Queensland. The point I changed my course at yesterday I have called Mount Wildash after F. Wildash, Esquire, of Queensland. Immediately east of Mount Wildash close by is another bluff equally high which I have called Hawker’s Bluff after the Honourable G.C. Hawker. Started at 7.58 a.m. on bearing of 100 degrees for the southern end of dark range in the distance; at 8.30 south of conspicuous sandstone rocky peak which I have called Morphett’s Peak after John Morphett, Esquire, of Adelaide; dip of about 35 degrees in the sandstone to about north-east or a little more east. Kept the above course three miles over good travelling country; spelled a few minutes then up and down and over very rocky ranges, in many places precipitous and most intricate travelling from 9 a.m. till 11.30; three and a half miles farther, then table-land till 1.50, the drainage is to the east, no doubt to go south after it has cleared the
Saturday, June 14.
Camp 17. Only rained sufficient to damp the grass. Still cloudy; not a breath of wind at daylight. Craggy hills to commence the journey with this morning. This sandy watercourse flows to west and south, a mere narrow channel, but it was of much service to us; we would have fared badly for the poor animals had we not fallen in with it, insignificant as it appears. Our pack-bags got sadly torn yesterday with broken timber and rocks, all of which latter is sandstone. We passed much splendid splitting timber on our way yesterday, stringy-bark and other trees I don’t know the names of, but useful timber. Crossed the creek at 8.38 a.m. on bearing of south by east till 8.55 three-quarters mile; spelled looking out on top of hill sixteen minutes, then on east course chiefly; at 11.30 six miles south one mile from the hill I was making for yesterday. Still on easterly course up and over a rugged and scrubby range till 2 p.m. about three and three-quarter miles. Lost an hour in searching for one of the horses that bolted and kicked off all his load prior to this. Boco (horse) obliged to be left behind. Then about north-north-east descended a range very steep and rough, then spinifex precipices, sharp ledges of rocks and every roughness one could imagine for about two miles or thereabouts, chiefly in the creek, then creek bore about east by north to east-north-east which I followed till after dark about six and a half miles, altogether
Sunday, June 15.
Camp 18. Very cloudy, every appearance of rain. Started at 9.10 along the bed of the creek still about east by north; at 10.35 three miles the creek receives a considerable tributary from the south-east, in fact it is the main channel and the one we are in the tributary, then it flowed north 15 degrees west to north or nearly so till 11.45 when the horses knocked up, must camp and give them the rest of the day and probably tomorrow; on this latter course about two miles; distance travelled between five and six miles. After getting to camp ascended the hills on the right or eastern side of the river and never beheld such a fearfully grand country in my life, nothing but towers and pinnacles of sandstone conglomerate, fit for nothing but wallaby and euro; and if it is for a thousand years from this time it can be used by no other animals but them and the natives as it is at present. The apparent course of this river from the greatest height I could get to is about 305 degrees, going in the first place after passing the camp a little more north for three or four miles—it is a terrible country. Should the river, on a closer examination tomorrow, prove to go as I imagine it does, I have nothing for it but to retrace my steps and go up the main branch and try and cross the range at top. Still very cloudy and looks as if it would rain every minute. I wish I had a little more food, if I had I would give the animals a week here but I have barely sufficient for six days. Oaks have been seen today in the bed of the river since the junction of the two channels. The river runs below the junction of the two branches for some distance, but here it is dry its full width which is about 150 to 200 yards and is very picturesque, with beautiful drooping gums, papery-bark trees, and various others, and the bold cliffs towering one above the other with awful grandeur. No one can conceive how much effect the travel of the last few days and the shortness of nourishing food has had upon our animals which ten days ago were fit for anything—always excepting this description of awful country. Wind from all points of the compass.
Monday, June 16.
Camp 19. In the bed of the River Gilbert (I take it to be) no room for camp anywhere else. The country is literally teeming with euro and wallaby, but as the natives are about in the rocks and precipices hunting we have no chance of shooting any. Very cloudy yet; rained a little during the night but nothing of any consequence; we cannot now be more than from sixty to seventy miles from the River Burdekin but from this spot utterly impracticable. Had to come down this length for anything like feed; traces of numbers of natives and their fires still burning. Went up the rocks and precipices on the eastern side of the river, and found that a high range extends eastwards, running north-west and south-east, completely blocking us in from here. Rode down the river to see if there is any likelihood of our getting out east by a tributary that it receives about one and a half miles down but found not. Rained a little in the forenoon and slight showers during the afternoon. Found that the old Indian camel (Narro) was unable to get up and go about to feed so, considering that the horses and the two remaining camels (Arabs) wanted a spell for a few days, I resolved upon killing the old camel and using him whilst here to save our dried beef, reluctantly as he is everything but a favourite morsel, but when we are compelled it is no use hesitating so had him shot; and firstly had his liver stewed or steamed, which I must say was the most extraordinary morsel I ever attempted to eat; it was as dry and juiceless and of as little flavour as if it had never formed a component part of any living animal; scarcely any of the party could touch it.
Tuesday, June 17.
In Camp 19, sandy bed of river. Rained pretty heavily during the night in showers. Cut up the meat of the camel to dry but the weather is very unfavourable; the rest of him eats much better than the liver; the heart is quite as good as a bullock’s and the meat, considering the condition of the animal, not at all as tough as one would expect; the party after starving for two or three meals have quietly taken to him now and rather like the meat.
Wednesday, June 18.
Still in Camp 19—not the most enviable place in the world. Heavy dew last night. I am afraid the meat we are attempting to dry will be a failure on account of the moist state of the weather. I was sadly grieved on return of the party that went to see after the horses to learn that one of our very best horses (Rowdy) was lying dead a short distance down the river, still warm; he must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake; at present we will feel his loss much as he was so strong and always kept fat. Although the meat will not be quite dry I will see and make a start out of this in the morning in case it may be some poisonous herb that may happen to be in the bed of the river. I will return up the river to where the main branch joined the tributary we came down, and try by following it for some distance to get some place where I can ascend the ranges to the east, but I expect it to be a work of great difficulty; however that I will think nothing of if I only succeed and get the animals all over safe. The weather seems taking up now.
Thursday, June 19.
Camp 19. Beautiful morning, not a breath of wind. Try what success we will have up the main branch of this river in finding a passage over the range to eastward. Have got rid of everything we can possibly spare and that will now be of little use to us and had them buried on the south-west side of creek, under the creek side of large broken-off standing dead tree, and up the bank about forty yards from a large gumtree, with a large square patch of bark taken off and small arrow at 4 o’clock in the direction should they be sought for, which I much doubt. The horses don’t look at all the thing I am sorry to see, knowing that they have some heavy work immediately before them; even before attempting to ascend the ranges we have to travel in the bed of the river where the sand is excessively heavy and trying on the poor animals in their present leg-weary state and want of condition. I never saw animals fall off so suddenly in my life. Followed our tracks back to the junction of the two branches about two and a half miles, then took the left-hand or south-east branch, found it improve much more than I had anticipated; the rocky hills recede occasionally and leave a nice bank of grass, but most of it recently burnt by the natives; on our left the rock appeared now to be chiefly slate, while on the right it still remained sandstone and quartz; the bed is broad and generally very open and sandy, upon which we have principally to travel; followed it for about eight miles in about an east-south-east course. From here (Camp 20) for some distance (seen from a hill here) the river appears to receive from the east by south generally plenty of water at intervals and generally at those places running; no doubt all the way it runs either over or under the land. Where we are now encamped the river is upwards of 150 yards broad. We found on turning out the camel meat to air that it was quite putrid and had consequently to throw the whole of it away; at this time it is a very great loss to us, the loss of upwards of seventy pounds of food. Even with the spell our horses have had they come along very indifferently, and I am almost afraid some more of them will have to be left behind as I have not sufficient food to wait spelling for them till they get flesh; there does not appear to be the same nourishment in the grass that there is almost anywhere else. Saw the smoke of natives a few miles ahead of us; I suppose we will see something of them tomorrow. Shot a new pigeon, will try to preserve the skin. Some figs were got by some of the party this morning before starting; I ate one of them apparently ripe, it was very insipid, the principal part of them were full of small flies. Distance travelled by bed of river not direct about ten and a half miles.
Friday, June 20.
Camp 20. Heavy dew last night; sky completely overcast with very heavy rainy-looking clouds. We have now on hand dried meat sufficient for about five and a half days, at the rate of one pound three ounces per day without salt or anything else, which is not very heavy diet. I never saw a country where less game was to be obtained; what euro and wallaby are here are so very wild there is no getting near them. Just here the hills are not so high or so rough as some distance further down; I hope they may continue so, that the animals won’t be distressed more than possible. Not a breath of wind this morning. Our course as seen from a hill close by last night will be about east-south-east for some distance this morning. Started at 8.10 a.m.; at three and a quarter miles came to a barrier right across from range to range, and after considerable detention succeeded in finding a road on our left round the range that the barriers form from; at four miles came to where one branch (the largest) comes from the south with plenty of water in its bed in the stone and rocks; the other branch is considerably to the east so will try it, although it does not at all look a watery branch but is much more in the direction I want to go. About the same course, over much more open country, hilly and thinly clad with small ironbark timber, and is chiefly of slate formation and well-grassed, but no water in its bed as far as we went, say about five and a half miles further where we fortunately got sufficient at the junction of a small side creek with the main watercourse to suit our immediate wants. It is perfectly surprising to see such a broad channel with such ranges close by and no water. One other of our best horses obliged to be left behind today; he has been ailing for some short time and all at once refused to proceed. A few kangaroo seen today. I trust we will fall in with plenty of water tomorrow, our horses never do so well as when they can go to water themselves instead of watering out of buckets. For some distance the creek bears to north of east; in fact the next bend, about a mile long, is from north or so, when it appears to turn to south and east. We managed occasionally during today to get upon the slopes from the hills on either side of the creek, which was much better travelling than in the soft sandy bed of the creek, which I have called Stuart’s Creek after Mr. McDouall Stuart, the indefatigable explorer of South Australia. This part would make a good sound sheep country if water at all times was obtainable. A number of oaks all along this branch, and more just here on our left side of the creek where the water is, and we are encamped.
Saturday, June 21.
Camp 21. The clouds of yesterday passed over with only a few drops of rain just after starting. Today cloudy again; wind from east by north; started at 7.53 a.m. As the horses came in to water, just before starting, we found that the horse Jamie had come up during the night but looks hardly able to drag his legs after him. It is a great pity as he is a splendid hackney and is a great loss at present. The narrow-leafed papery-barked tree grows on the sides of the creek to a great size and height, completely overtopping the gums, oaks, etc. There is very little feed in this part of the country that the camels are fond of. At about four miles, creek running, with plenty of feed; for three and a half miles further the creek comes from north-east by north, then a little more east. General course today about north-east and distance travelled about sixteen miles, when we fortunately got sufficient water in a barrier in the creek, evidently from recent rain, the bed of the creek otherwise perfectly dry. Three more horses knocked up and obliged to be left behind, namely Bawley, Fidget, and Camel (mare) although good travelling. Ascended hill at camp and found that the first leading main range bears east and about 40 degrees north, which I intend making for.
Sunday, June 22.
Camp 22. Wind from east by north and cloudy; obliged to lighten further our load by leaving the tents and spare pack-saddles and bags here on north side of creek; started at 8.20 a.m. The barrier here is composed of a yellow close-grained stone impregnated with small specks of quartz, and the hills on either side, pieces of granite of the same kind are also strewed in the bed, brought down by the currents. A few oak-trees immediately above this camp. Passed over hilly well-grassed ironbark granite country on a bearing of about 90 degrees (but first of all a little to the north of that, and afterwards as much to the south, which equalised the bearing) for the point of a range which I mean to ascend. Got to it at eleven and a half miles; then quarter of a mile along top of range, the ascent of which we found excessively difficult, and had two of our best horses nearly killed by falling backwards down the hill, and only being brought up from going to the bottom and getting smashed by some trees and rocks; the camels especially we had to unpack twice (two ascents) and I once thought we were not to get them up they are so weak, especially the smallest one—a splendid little animal. Then we got a comparatively easy descent and made for north end of a heavy range close by on a bearing of 85 degrees. At three-quarters of a mile got to the end of it, over rough country intercepted with innumerable creeks, hills, rock, and timber; then bore east-south-east for distant bluff of range along well-grassed but very hilly sound country for two miles. Could hardly get the small camel along, and no appearance of water, and it within an hour of sunset. Went down the spur of a small
Monday, June 23.
Camp 23. Heavy dew, cloudy morning. Will be obliged to stay here to recruit the animals where there is plenty of excellent feed and sufficient water, and am sorry to say kill a horse and endeavour to dry or jerk him, in the meantime I hope the weather may prove favourable for that purpose. I did hope not to be driven to killing the horses; had I for a moment thought so when at the Gulf I would have shaped my course south for Adelaide, but I never dreamt of such a rough country as I found in this direction, Walker and Landsborough will have found it so likewise. Ascended one of the ridges close by but could not tell which way the principal drainage went, it is open forest land from north of east by south round to north of west for a great extent of miles, with heavy ranges beyond, and a couple of breaks apparently in the range at 110 and 145 degrees, which to take I have not yet made up my mind, and the horses are so weak that I don’t wish to take more out of them than can possibly be avoided, and reconnoitring at present would only cause probably another horse or two to be left, which is everything but advisable. Wind was fresh during the night. Killed one of the horses had of Mr. Scott, being most suitable for our purpose, and an excellent packhorse he was, always having carried during our travels one of the heaviest packs, and was one of the unfortunate animals that fell down the range yesterday. It is a little cloudy but I hope it will blow off and give us favourable weather for drying his flesh; ate his heart, liver, and kidneys, and found them excellent made into a sort of hash with a little remnant of pepper we had.
Tuesday, June 24.
Camp 23. A little dew early part of the night, but little the remainder. Keen cold wind from all quarters, chiefly from north-east to south-east and clear sky; if it continues will suit our meat-drying well, which will be of vast advantage to us; to lose the flesh of another animal as we did the camel’s would indeed be a serious loss. Our two patients Maitland and Kirby deadly sick; whatever can be wrong with them I can’t imagine; the latter has been ailing off and on for some time and has got dispirited in the rough country. Busy this morning cutting up the flesh of the horse and tying it on the lines to dry; had he been in good condition it would take a good judge to distinguish his flesh from beef; it makes most excellent hash and soup. One of our horses has mysteriously got lame in his stifle since coming here, I hope not permanently.
Wednesday, June 25.
Camp 23. Wind the same as yesterday and fluctuating—very heavy dew last night and very cold. The last two days have been warm and suit our purpose for meat-drying admirably. The two invalids are still very unwell, but trust they will be better by the time the meat is thoroughly dry and cause us no unnecessary detention till we get into the stations on the river Burdekin, where they can have a change of food. The horses appear to benefit on this spell and feed.
Thursday, June 26.
Still in Camp 23. Heavy dew, foggy morning till about 10 a.m. when the meat was hung out to dry. Wind from all quarters but turned out rather a nice warm day, and will be about sufficient to dry our meat to enable us to start in the morning. Shoeing some of the horses that cast their shoes over the rough country, and preparing for a start; the lame horse is a little better; the invalids I cannot say are much improved. There is a great scope of good pastoral land here but rather hilly. I have made up my mind to try what appears to be the easiest and, from here, the straightest course on a bearing of 110 degrees. The drainage appears to go from here firstly to the south-east, receiving all the drainage of the large ranges apparently from 110 degrees round to south, when it appears to turn suddenly round some prominent ranges after receiving drainage from the westward of this, and uniting in one large watercourse and flowing behind a large leading range to south and east. Probably the head of the River Clarke takes its rise here.
Friday, June 27.
Wind as usual for the last few mornings—northerly; heavy dew but a beautiful morning. The natives were busy grass-burning south-south-east of this in the valley last afternoon. It was observed too late or I would have gone down to them and might have got some information from them as regards the courses of the different creeks, etc. etc., and probably the whereabouts of the nearest station on the Burdekin or one of its tributaries, so that we might be enabled to get a supply of food by the time this is exhausted.
Saturday, June 28.
Camp 24. Course 90 degrees, heavy dew, beautiful morning. The water although running strong here is of a milky appearance. Started at 8.10 a.m. over granite ridge and crossed swamp and water-creek to north. At two and a quarter miles boulders of lava on the eastern side; at two and three-quarter miles crossed large creek with plenty of water, which I have called Frank’s Creek after F. Marchant, Esquire, of Arkaba north of Adelaide. It comes from southward. At four and a half miles crossed small running rivulet from south; at five miles crossed a larger one from same direction; at six and three-quarter miles crossed a running creek in a swamp from south also; at seven and three-quarter miles crossed a splendid creek with oaks, etc., quantity of swampy ground on either side flowing same as last, which I have called the George after George Marchant, Esquire, of Wilpena north of Adelaide. At ten and a quarter
Sunday, June 29.
Camp 25. Maitland very unwell, Kirby only so-so. There is also water in a small creek close by to south which joins this creek close by; ranges visible within a few miles to south of south-west; wind from southward chiefly but variable; I have called the creek we encamped on last night Burt’s Creek after G. Burt, Esquire, of Adelaide. Started at 8.18 a.m. on course of 90 degrees; at half a mile crossed large rocky creek from the south with boulders of lava in its bed; there was lava also at starting; a continuation of rough lava country for three miles; bad travelling. At three and three-quarter miles crossed strong running river or creek, granite bed; fish; with oaks, current to northward. At six miles crossed small dry sandy creek to east-north-east; top of granite ridge at six and one third of a mile: spelled nineteen minutes for a view; bearing of 84 1/2 degrees for a distant knoll in what appears a leading range, and a possibility of getting easily over it. At one mile crossed a small dry creek to east-north-east; at two miles crossed dry sandy creek to east-north-east; at two and three-quarter miles crossed oak creek (dry) to east-north-east; at five and two-third miles crossed large oak creek (dry) to east by north; at one and three-quarter miles further came to lagoon, not very large but suits our purpose for a camp as one of the horses can’t be persuaded to come on. I expect I will have to kill him to live upon for a few days whilst the other horses spell; some of them are very weak but the feed is too dry to kill him here; distance travelled about thirteen and three-quarter miles. Saw three emus today and a few turkeys; kangaroos were also seen for the last two days; the strong running river that we crossed at three and three-quarter miles from camp this morning I have called the McKay after G. McKay, Esquire, of Mellia, William’s River, New South Wales. The latter part of today the feed has been very dry but generally speaking it is an excellent country for any kind of stock; the only impediment to sheep is the very abrupt banks of the creeks for drays for the cartage of wool, but that would be got over with well searching; saw a native but he made off at full speed when he observed us.
Monday, June 30.
Camp 26. A good deal of box and apple-tree about here; our chief timber of late has been ironbark and other very useful trees, with gums always about the creeks and swamps. Saw yesterday on the way a few of that ornamental fruit-tree of Cooper’s Creek, which I have not seen for some time, but it was of small growth; the soil I suppose not being suitable. Will go on for some distance on same bearing as yesterday, to see if I meet better and more green feed accompanied with water to spell the horses. Although I am quite satisfied that I am close upon the Burdekin still I may not be close upon any of the stations. Little dew last night, wind light, and latterly a little inclined to be cloudy; sun rose 58 degrees east of north. Started at 8.3 a.m. At three-quarters of a mile crossed a creek from the east-south-east, deep and dry; rather thickly timbered country and not so rich. Gradual ascent to top of ridge; division of waters about three-quarters of a mile west of the mound or peak I was steering for at four miles. Abreast of peak at four and three-quarter miles; went to top of it; it was very steep and composed of very rough sandstone, granite, and decaying slaty stones. Had a pretty extensive view from it; but my view north, of 62 1/2 degrees, was intercepted by rough ranges. The drainage from this tier of ranges, eastern side, appears in the first instance to go to east-south-east or even south of that; and afterwards when all the watercourses unite in the flat some distance off to go to north and east. Started from this peak on bearing of 62 1/2 degrees for a break I observed in the distant range; at one mile crossed an oak creek (dry) to east-south-east; at three and a half miles crossed another oak creek (dry) lots of kangaroo about, and no doubt there is water although we did not see it in our course; at four and a quarter miles came to and crossed a swamp and creek with water in one hole that will be sufficient for us and camp. Maitland so ill he can hardly hang on the horse’s back and the horse Jack knocked up; killed him during the afternoon; although a bag of bones he will make soup for a few days and give Maitland a chance of recruiting, and will be a means of refreshing the horses and camels. Journey today about nine miles, the latter part very ridgy and rather rough although well-grassed; but indifferent travelling on account of the watercourses down the slopes being rather deep and steep on both sides. Kirby still keeps about the same thing; he is a mere bag of bones compared to what he used to be. Palmer has been complaining for some time and gets little better or worse; a violent headache generally seizing him about noon every day. Hodgkinson is also generally complaining. Wind afternoon from north.
Tuesday, July 1.
Camp 27, or Jack’s Swamp after our unfortunate horse; poor old fellow, many a score miles he carried me till some time ago he got a little lame and has never done so well since. No dew last night. Bell is, as he has always been, a day complaining and a day well; Davis something similar; Middleton has now got quite well and the rest of us are all pretty right but would be all the better of a change of food for the better; none of us appear very energetic on horse-food; unfortunately maggots got into it and did not improve it either in appearance or quality, but we are not over nice now. Plenty of splendid timber in this part of the country. Wind rather strong from north and continues steady in that quarter. Trying today to jerk a portion of the horse to cause what we have got to spin out. A good many fleecy clouds flying about early part of afternoon and the wind has changed a little to the west of north. In our present state we don’t want to see any rain till we get into the stations, as now we are tentless and of course have nothing to cover the sick in case of wet. Late in the afternoon wind considerably to the west, at sunset quite a calm, very cloudy and every appearance of rain, trust that it will blow off. A great number of large-sized kangaroos here but rather shy. Although there is abundance of grass of different kinds here the camels eat but little of it and do very badly; about the lakes north-east of Lake Torrens is the place for them; they eat nearly everything in the shape of grass and shrubs that grow there, but here it is quite different; but few acacias here of which they are very fond.
Wednesday, July 2.
Camp, Jack’s Swamp. No rain last night and but little dew; the clouds have all dispersed. Wind from north varying to east and west of that point and a beautiful hot day. The horses appearing to do well. Maitland improving; Kirby about the same, also Palmer.
Thursday, July 3.
Camp, Jack’s Swamp. Little dew again last night, wind northerly and easterly throughout the day, sun rather warm but not disagreeably so. The hills hereabouts are composed of substrata of decomposing sandstone with roots growing or dead in the fissures, the top rugged at and near the crest, with a description of stone like decaying burnt brick, broken into fragments although apparently united; very precipitous and often overhanging near the tops of the ranges, with table-tops, generally scrubby, still with good timber even on top and where it is more open, fair grass in places and spinifex in others, with heavy deep ravines down the slopes on all sides and well-grassed and timbered in the valleys. From the top of range near our camp one has an extensive view; southward is a large valley, the receiver of all the drainage of the hills east and west of it; south the range is low and over it can be discerned several conical wooded hills of greater and lesser sizes; beyond them in the distance can be seen two
Friday, July 4.
Camp 27, Jack’s Swamp. Very cold during the night. Every appearance of a nice day. What little wind there is is from north. We start from this with 46 pounds of dried horse flesh which I hope will be sufficient to carry us to stations on the Burdekin. The invalids and animals have improved during their stay here, and we start this morning on about our last bearing generally, although we cannot go direct from the hilliness of the country. Bearing 62 1/2 degrees. All round this quarter quartz of colours is strewed over the face of the country in addition to the decomposing stones. Started at 8.6 a.m. firstly up the swamp side northerly a short distance, then easterly over a saddle in the range for the eastern slopes towards the main drainage to the northwards. At half a mile on top of the saddle in the range with drainage to the east. Then had to keep a little northerly of our course to avoid a rugged range on the right. At about eleven miles direct struck the main drainage creek (Ross’s Creek after W. Ross, Esquire, Mulma, Murray, New South Wales) but the actual distance travelled was considerably over that. Then followed the creek on a bearing of about 20 degrees off and on. At one and a quarter miles it receives a considerable tributary from west-south-west (Cole’s Creek after S. Cole, Esquire, Commissioner of Crown Lands, Euston, New South Wales). A large mass of hard dark-coloured, slaty-coloured rock in the centre of the two creeks with a passage on each side. At four miles it receives a very deep but narrow creek from the west (Beveridge’s Creek after Peter Beveridge, Esquire, Swan Hill, Victoria). Obliged to get into the main creek to pass it. Plenty of water and feed. Camped. A splendid creeper (scarlet) is here upon a number of trees, climbing to their very top. The fruit is very showy, oblong and quite the size of an orange but tastes exceedingly nauseous, full of pulpy seeds, birds and opossums eat them. After getting to camp went to top of a high range at three-quarter mile distant east-south-east. From it I had an extensive view. At 40 degrees easy to pass through range. From 82 to 90 degrees very mountainous. 5 degrees a very extensive valley apparently inclining westwards. Blacks burning at 10 degrees in the distance. North is a large irregular peak range; in the distance another a little east of it.
Saturday, July 5.
Camp 28. Dewless night as was also the night before and several others previous. Very hot yesterday. Last night during the whole night the sky was completely overcast and close, this morning the same. The main creek here is well lined with gums and well-grown oaks, the bank fringed with reeds; low down is about fifty yards wide at the bottom level and twice that width at top and steep but grassed all down the slopes. The forest over which we travelled yesterday was very much cut up with sudden and deep watercourses, making the travelling more difficult, and in many places was stony (brown stone). Started at 8.23 a.m., the horses having ranged rather far. Crossed the creek and on bearing of 22 degrees along it pretty good travelling through open timber, till at about two and three-quarter miles the creek came too close under a range to allow us to follow anywhere near its banks. Ascended the range and at three miles the creek on the left changed course to from 40 to 45 degrees; sometimes to the north of that, at other times to the south of it. At a short distance over the flat, after descending the range which was of no great elevation, came on the creek again and followed it on the above bearing. As we struck the creek the footprints of two horses in the bed of the creek, and shortly after more and more, which at first led us to suppose that the country was stocked thus far up; but after following along in the bed we found the traces to be all about the same age and that some time back. At length on right side of creek on the bank, at the distance on our last course of three and a quarter miles, we saw the remains of an old camp, ridge pole, and uprights, with the letter K cut on a couple of gumtrees, which at once led us to believe it was some party or other marking the boundaries of their runs. Got up out of the creek at this place and went on bearing of about 20 to 25 degrees. Immediately after starting on this bearing we passed over rather open ground with spinifex but not very strong. The creek now out of sight on the left. At three and one-eighth of a mile struck what I take to be the Burdekin, but no tracks of drays or stock of any kind up this length. It flows east at this place. Went about three-quarters of a mile on this course and two of the horses becoming knocked up I am obliged to halt. What told upon them so much today was that the banks of the creek were so rugged we were obliged to travel in the loose sand in the bed of the creek. We hope to make better progress tomorrow. From here the river appears to flow about 15 degrees north of east but that won’t continue far; I imagine we are a little above the junction of the Perry with this river. The bed of the Burdekin at this camp is about from 90 to 100 yards, and the strong-running stream is confined between bergues on the north side to a space of about twenty yards, and little better than knee-deep. Only a few small fish visible. Magnificent gums on its banks and plenty of excellent timber in every direction. This will be a most difficult part of the country for drays travelling on account of the many steep-sided creeks. At anything like a flood quite impracticable.
Sunday, July 6.
Camp 29. Last evening the wind blew for a short time fresh from east by north then lulled down; shortly after the sky became overcast and during the night we had a light Scotch mist; this morning no wind but sky overcast with every appearance of rain. We tried some green hide that we were reserving for camel’s boots in our soup of this morning, and being pickled in salt when taken from the bullock it imparted quite an agreeable flavour to our scanty meal and we all enjoyed it much. Some of the party put up badly with this short diet and appear to get quite dispirited, although at sight of the tracks yesterday they are quite elated, but it was only for a short time to become further depressed after. Horses all about amongst the bergues and high grass; late at starting. Started at 9.12 a.m.; for the first three and three-quarter miles through open forest, good country; large oak creek from the south-west joins the river at that distance. Our course to this was to south of east-south-east nearly south-east; the river then bears east for some distance, then north, then south, and afterwards to about south-east; first part through some exceedingly intricate country, hills close on the river with deep ravines and most difficult travelling. In its present state no dray in the world could pass by it; first of all we got one of the camels down in a creek, next one of the horses rolled over into the creek and we had to make a road for them at last to descend into the creek; now into and along the bed of the river; now up the steep banks and then up stony hills to head, or more easily cross the ravines, which was very trying to our animals, and finally completely knocked up one of the weak horses which was with much persuasion got to the camp in the afternoon after the camp was formed. After arriving he was killed and we commenced to use his flesh to save the other dry meat as we must spare a day here to refresh the animals; the latter part of the day’s journey was over rather better travelling; the hills still close to the river with deep ravines. On this last bearing fully six miles on the opposite or left bank of the river, at about two miles distance from our camp here a large creek with abundance of running water joins from north-west by north through apparently a not prepossessing country, very hilly and little or no valley belonging to it; in travelling along the bed of the river occasionally the bed is of a quicksand nature and very heavy. Sun quite overcast all day, at night it cleared off. Wind south-east.
Monday, July 7.
Camp 30. Although the stars were out during the night and no dew we have it very cloudy again today. I went to top of one of the highest hills on right bank of river today and had an extensive view. The river appears to bear nearly east generally for the north end of some large mountains in that direction, at which place I think the river receives the River Perry from the north and then flows south. Between
Tuesday, July 8.
Camp 30. Heavy dew last night; foggy this morning. Very dense vegetation along the banks and bergues of the river. The fish seen as yet are but small, the largest are of the catfish kind. Started at 8.45 a.m., late, the horses, even with the abundance of feed here, having strayed in all directions. At one and three-quarter miles crossed narrow and deep running creek from south by east. One of the camels in going up the hill out of it tumbled over backwards, and detained us forty-two minutes. Then ascended stony hills to avoid the ravines close to the river. At four and a quarter miles a conical stony-topped hill close by on right, south, and south of that a swamp with poplar, gums, etc., river close on left, country open both sides of river, particularly opposite side to north-north-east; at five and three-quarter miles crossed creek from south-east (good, not broad nor deep but abundance of water) then undulating stony country with low-sized trees (stunted) river bearing northward; at seven and three-quarter miles crossed creek from south-east by east, a little water; at nine miles crossed narrow deep creek, bald-topped range of hills close ahead same side of river, running from north to south. The river here sweeps round the north end of them, making a considerable detour to north of east; we ascended the easiest of the ridges easterly to avoid the steep gullies, and saw the river taking a sweep south; I think it receives the Perry at its south bend. At twelve and a half miles on an easterly bearing changed course to south by west, or even west of that, over ridgy but good travelling and latterly flat country, well grassed, for two and three-quarter miles and camped, one of the camels refusing to travel, lying down occasionally. Distance travelled about fifteen and a quarter miles. I wish our animals were now in the same condition they were at Hayward’s Creek and I would soon be at Port Denison. I am surprised that the squatting stations are not further advanced up this river. Our invalids are slowly recruiting. Has been a beautiful day.
Wednesday, July 9.
Camp 31. Heavy dew last night. To give the horses a chance of doing better last night they were let go without hobbles, and this morning they have strayed to some distance and again caused us to be late in starting. Started at 11.10 a.m. A number of natives must have been here on our arrival last afternoon but must have decamped very hastily on hearing us, leaving all their spears, cooking and cooked vegetables, food, etc. etc.; the food they were cooking in their ovens and what was lying cooked consisted of excellent roots of some kind or other, and a round fruit which they roast and which is very good. We used all the roots and found them most excellent and left in exchange a tomahawk, which no doubt will suit their purpose as well, and suited us much better. I took the precaution of carrying all their spears up to our camp, that in case they might return to their camp in the night they might not molest us; it saved us keeping watch but we neither saw nor heard anything of them except their dogs howling. Numbers of blue mountain parrots here, and a few ducks only. The river here is formidable and the banks rather steep for easy access. On the south-south-easterly course; at one and three-quarter miles crossed deep rocky creek with a little rainwater and very steep banks; at three and a quarter miles passed a lagoon, more lagoons off to the south-west under the low ridges; at six miles crossed a small oak creek from south-west by west; at seven and three-quarter miles crossed small good creek with plenty of water from south-west by west. Halted at a couple of lagoons, nine and a quarter miles. One of the camels we will be compelled to leave here; he has been a most useful animal; we will in consequence have to curtail further our little effects and leave many things behind. Our journey direct south-east and little south today has not been more than about seven miles. The lagoons which are deep run in a north-west by west half west course. Buried things we left at south side of ironbark tree fifty-two paces about west 28 degrees south of a marked tree and camp fire.
Thursday, July 10.
Camp 32. Ice in the quart pots this morning, the first we have seen during the whole of our wanderings up to this; but I once before saw where it had nipped off the young burnt feed before making the Burdekin. Have called this Coppin’s lagoons after our camel that is left here. Started at 8.52 a.m. south-east about two and a half miles or so. At one and three-quarter miles on an easterly bearing crossed a rocky and sandy narrow deep creek from south by west with plenty of water in large holes; good travelling till we turned easterly, then a little ridgy; at three and a quarter miles a large creek from north-north-east joins the river in a bend; a large mount in about that direction. The river now suddenly turns south-east to south-south-east from east-north-east; at six and a quarter miles crossed the River Clarke
Friday, July 11.
Camp 33. Heavy dew last night. Started at 8.15 a.m. on same bearing over ridges till three and a quarter miles, being the point where Dr. Leichhardt descended the steep mount close by. From this point the mount and peak on opposite side of the river some distance off bears as follows: south-west of table top 280 degrees, north-east peak 331 1/2 degrees. Got into the bed of the river here comparatively easily and followed it down its rocky and sandy bed for some distance till obliged to turn out on the opposite side. A large island of rocks in the centre of the river and deep water on both sides, the hills precipitous into the river. We got up the opposite side pretty easily and followed it down, crossing a deep ravine and stony ridge, and recrossed at two and three-quarter miles on a bearing north of east, and crossed the river back again, very steep on the side we crossed from but good getting out, and came over ridgy, and latterly, basalt country, on bearing of about east-south-east, and camped on the opposite side of the river at three miles on last bearing, where there was a suitable place in the bed of the river for killing one of our horses which was completely knocked up. This camp is about two miles up from where the river takes a south-east bend and receives a river running into it at that bend. About one-quarter mile from it and nearer our camp another large running creek joins the Burdekin which I have called the Campbell after Dal. Campbell, Esquire, Melbourne. The larger one below, which is about one-third the width of the Burdekin but down which quite as great a supply of water is running, I have taken the liberty of calling the Bowen after His Excellency Sir G. Bowen, Governor of Queensland. The latter stream joins the Burdekin from north by east but comes from distant mountainous ranges to the east of north-east. The smaller stream the Campbell joins the Burdekin from north by west, but comes from north, or a little east of that, from a mountainous country. As seen from a hill close by to west of the Campbell the Burdekin there comes from a little north of west, and flows to south 20 degrees east, but not visible either way far.
Saturday, July 12, Sunday, July 13, Monday, July 14, 1862.
In camp, drying horseflesh; the wind from east; dewy, and at daylight foggy along the banks and valley of the river but soon clears off; we have had splendid weather for drying our meat. Caught some very nice fish but not sufficient to be of any real service. The timber is not anything like as large or so good as it is further up the river. The bed of the river here is from 400 to 500 yards wide. The horse Goliah has given us fifty-two pounds dry meat. We have shot a few crows, a cormorant, and a white eagle with blue back, to make a stew for breakfast, that with a little salted hide and about two pounds dried meat will make a very good meal as matters stand at present. The remainder of the dried meat and what we may shoot I hope will last us as far as the Farming River, which is about ninety miles from this, to which river I saw people start for from Sydney upwards of twelve months ago, and they must certainly be there now; perhaps we may be fortunate enough to meet them this side of that. I have been quite disappointed at not finding the stations much higher up the river even than where I now am.
Tuesday, July 15.
Camp 34. Dull morning; heavy dew; much sheet lightning during the night to south and east, heavy clouds in that direction this morning. Started at —— a.m.; for the first half mile or more down the river bed east 8 degrees south; then crossed and on bearing of south 35 degrees east; the river at crossing not more than 100 yards wide; first part through open timber, and gentle ascent for one and a quarter miles to a basalt and sandstone range, flat, well-grassed table-topped, and descended the same at two and a quarter miles; the dip from the table-top to the slope only a few yards; large boulders of basalt and sandstone; then well-grassed but ridgy and occasionally scrubby country; crossed springy creek at west-north-west (gum); at three and a quarter miles crossed fine gum creek, running, with lots of palms (corkscrew) from west-south-west at five miles; the country good till six miles, when it becomes more ridgy and stony, with spinifex, but improves shortly after; at eight miles crossed good creek; springs, etc., from south half east; close under ranges towards the source of the creek the ridges open and apparently well-grassed, though rather steep and stony; then over higher ranges and stony ridges, well-grassed, and descended a very steep one, the river close by on the left; at ten and a half miles rather rough, with ravines at foot of the range running into the river; at eleven and a quarter miles crossed a small creek from west-south-west with water in holes; then rocky low ridges with but scant vegetation for a short distance; then over rather flat travelling, well-grassed but indifferently timbered, and a good deal of it inclined to be swampy in wet weather; a good many poplar gums on it. The latter part rather rotten sandy ground.
Wednesday, July 16.
Camp 35. A good shower during the night; foggy this morning, but the rain evidently all cleared off; started at 8.3 a.m. course south by east; crossed deep creek from north-west by west, little water; at two and a half miles passed a swamp; at three and three-quarter miles crossed oak creek from west-south-west; at four and a quarter miles changed course to south 35 degrees east; crossed at one and three-quarter miles a small creek from north-north-west, plenty of waterholes; same creek afterwards was close on our left at five and three-quarter miles where it joins the river, and another oak creek close by joins at nearly or at same place. Then changed course to south 11 degrees east and passed lagoon at three miles; passed through an end of considerable swamp; at six and a quarter miles on our left and after going a short way saw where it had wound round a ridge and was a large sheet of water and swampy land; before and after this passed through several nasty thick belts of scrub with a very fine large white tree with dark rough butt growing amongst it, Moreton Bay ash, I imagine; made the river at nine and three-quarter miles where some drays and sheep had crossed some time since; followed the river down one and a quarter miles south-south-west, and crossed a fine creek from west by north and camped about three-quarters of a mile up the creek; one branch of it comes from north-west by north, the other and best from west half south. Basalt ridge close to the river and south banks of creek; a short distance down the river a cliffy precipitous tier of ranges comes right on to the river with dark scrubby-looking tops. On the right bank of the creek with its junction with the river is a mass of sandstone with bullets of stones through it, and a yellow hard-looking clay perfectly detached, the clay wall having a dip of about 45 degrees to south-west; abundance of water up the left hand or southernmost creek. Distance travelled twenty to twenty-one miles. I have called the creek we are now encamped on Gibson’s after —— Gibson, Esquire, of Great Bourke Street, Melbourne.
Thursday, July 17.
Camp 36. Ice again this morning, very cold during the night. Started at 8 a.m.; four and a half miles on bearing of south by east along and over basalt country, crossed rocky oak creek at three and a half miles from west by south, swampy; continued this bearing for six and three-quarter to seven miles and changed course to 60 degrees east of south; one and three-quarter miles an immense swamp and lagoons, basalt ridges; close round crossed over these ridges; bore a little more to the east; and at five and three-quarters crossed a splendid stream from south by west with a number of anabranches. Basalt on the flats as well as the ridges; changed course to about east by south, horses tiring; halted at same, strong-running stream at four and three-quarter miles; as it passes it flows over falls in an east-south-east course along the foot of basalt ridges and comes, as far as visible, from west and north. East of this, apparently opposite side of the Burdekin River, are bald-topped ridges about eight miles distant; basalt ridge on this side a considerable distance in that direction. Distance twenty-two miles today. I have taken the liberty of naming the stream (to all intents and purposes an important river, though narrow compared with some streams, but down which quite as great a supply of pure water is now running as in the Burdekin) the River Browne after W.J. Browne, Esquire, of Booboorowie, South Australia. Large masses of granite are here in the bed of this river and on its banks, although the ridges close by are composed of very cellular basalt and close-grained sandstone. No mountains visible at all close in any direction. From the top of the heights, close to our camp, lots of tracks of sheep and cattle. No appearance of a station; fancy they have taken to the creeks.
Friday, July 18.
Very cold during the night, but beautiful morning. This river runs parallel to the Burdekin for some distance and at only a very short distance between. Started at 8.20 a.m. over the basalt ridges for the sake of better travelling than we are likely to have in the Burdekin, for some distance at least. South for one mile, then east-south-east through open forest with basalt blocks occasionally, and rather swampy-inclined land for two and three-quarter miles. Crossed a small sandy creek, vast numbers of young palms, from south, then the land of granite formation and stony; drainage to north and east. At three and one quarter miles crossed large sandy creek with water and a number of large palms and gums, from south-west, immediately after crossing, undulations of quite sandy country but commencing with but little scrub; but at about three miles from the creek obliged to turn out of it in a north-north-east course or all our packs would have been torn off; the scrub was full of game. On the last course we went about one and a half miles till we got to the edge of the scrub, then about east by north for about one and a half miles on to the
Saturday, July 19.
Spelled. Very cold night, beautiful morning, and throughout the day the same weather.
Sunday, July 20.
Camp 38. Very cold night, beautiful morning. Proceed down the river. Started at 8.37 a.m., our course for a short distance about south-east then east-south-east; at one and a half miles crossed rocky creek, easily passable for drays, from west-south-west; crossed sandy oak creek from south-east by south (dry). At three miles crossed sandy palm creek (dry) from south-south-east; at six and a quarter miles undulating nice country; at eleven miles struck the river; a high point in a considerable range on opposite side of river bears 88 degrees east from this point of river. The river now runs in a south-west by south direction for about one and three-quarter miles, and in that distance crossed two oak creeks, one from west-north-west, the other from north-west by west; the river then runs about south for about one and a half to one and three-quarter miles, and suddenly takes a large bend to east or north of east, at which bend a very large oak creek joins river from south-south-west; a range of hills a short distance off on that same bearing. Camped in bed of creek; lot of young oaks in bed of creek just sprouting. This creek I have taken the liberty of calling the McKeachin after Alexander McKeachin, Esquire, of Delagato, Manaroo, New South Wales. The timber here is neither so abundant or so good for building purposes as higher up the river; the latter is from 700 to 800 yards broad here, and a strong running stream on right side.
Monday, July 21.
Camp 39. Hoar frost last night with ice on the ground again this morning but beautiful weather. Started at 8.40 a.m. south-east by east to clear creek and range, then south-east by south. Crossed sandy oak creek from south half east. At half a mile crossed several sandy creeks near together from west of south. At three miles crossed two sandy creeks from west-south-west; when united will form a considerable one. At six miles crossed large creek from south-west by south. Gums, palms, and the paper-bark trees at six and three-quarter miles. Crossed at seven and a half miles large creek with oaks, gums, paper-bark trees. From south by west a very fine creek and excellent timber. No water at crossing but abundance of reeds on banks. At ten and three-quarter miles considerably ridgy, and passed large masses and cliffy hill, apparently of limestone. Close on the right from the top of one of the ridges is seen to the right a fine valley coming considerably from north of west and bearing off round some high dark-looking hills ahead, with cliffy and rugged tops, no doubt the valley of the Fanning River. Kept above course till at fourteen and a quarter miles rough hills being close ahead, and the Fanning being too much off to south and east, followed a small creek north-east for one and a quarter miles and camped at a little water. The country here has all been burned. Distance travelled about sixteen and a quarter miles.
Tuesday, July 22.
Camp 40. Neither dew or frost. Started at 7.52 a.m. north by east, crossing two oak creeks from left to right, joining the one we camped on last night. Made Burdekin River at eight miles. Highest point of Mount Razorback bears from that point a little east of east-north-east. It has been raining here lately. Then on bearing of east 15 degrees south at three-quarters of a mile an oak creek joins the river from south, the river then bears much away to east, or even north of east. Still on bearing of east 15 degrees south. At two and a quarter miles crossed small oak creek from south by west. At four and three-quarter miles crossed fine large oak creek from south-south-west, sandy bed and reedy banks. Open forest. Saw some natives and heard others who were much alarmed. At eight and a half miles crossed sandy oak creek from south-west, very zigzag in its course. Country very ridgy and inclined to be lightly scrubby. Made the river at fourteen miles. Latter part very ridgy and many precipitous creeks from the slopes, but otherwise well-grassed. The greater part of the country travelled over today was of granite formation with veins of quartz here and there, and lots of loose quartz scattered about. A large hill opposite side of river here that I take to be —— Range, and another down the river about one and a half miles bearing about south by west. The river here comes from north for some distance, and after it has passed this on to the range about one and a half miles
Wednesday, July 23.
Camp 41. Wind cold from north by west; neither dew nor frost.
Thursday, July 24.
Camp 41. Wind from same quarter or a little more west; neither dew or frost but very cold during the night. Crossed the river here to save a considerable sweep first to south between one and a half to two miles, then to north of east. Started at 8.20 a.m. This is now the sixth horse we have been compelled to kill for food, I trust it may be the last; went across the river yesterday and saw the tracks of a few head of cattle and from what I could judge not very old; hope to get to a station during the day. From our camp here a fine peak on left side of river, between main range and river, bears 48 degrees east of north. At the bend on right bank of river, below our camp quite two miles distant, the end of a large hill comes on to the river bearing 195 degrees; a very rugged peak east of it on same side bears 183 1/2 degrees. Only two packhorses and one camel now. Bearing east 33 1/2 degrees south over stony granite ridges; made the river at a southerly bend at eight miles. A deep creek joins at this bend. Then bearing south-east by south for a peak ahead, at two and a half miles crossed large oak creek and several smaller ones before that; at four and a quarter miles at peak changed course to south 2 degrees west; at five miles made river, crossing in our course several creeks from eastward. Mount McConnell from this bears a little east of south-south-east; instead of altering our course to south 2 degrees west from the peak, a good road avoiding some rugged ranges could be had by keeping right on course of south 23 1/2 degrees east. The river immediately below this passes in an easterly direction between two ranges that come right on to it. The peak on the left bank I have called Foster’s Peak after A.W. Foster, Esquire, of the Murray River, New South Wales. The bluff on the right bank and a little nearer than the peak I have called the McLeod after James McLeod, Esquire, of the Darling River, New South Wales. A fine long leading range some distance from right bank of river, running north and south, and apparently table-topped, I have called the Fletcher after G.B. Fletcher, Esquire, Tapio, Darling River, New South Wales.
Friday, July 25.
Camp 42. Started at 8.35 a.m.; first over stony ridge, then good open forest on a bearing of east by south; at five miles struck a river from north-north-west which, immediately after crossing, went about east half north. This river I have called the Foster after A.W. Foster, Esquire, of the Murray, New South Wales; followed it in its course for two and three-quarter miles, it then suddenly turns south-east; had to follow it a quarter of a mile. Large mountain lying right across my course and running about north by west and south by east; which I have called Mount Buchanan after Alexander Buchanan, Esquire, of Anlaby, South Australia, from whom the whole of this party met with the utmost kindness and consideration. I then crossed over and went on a bearing of east by north through open country, till at one and three-quarter miles crossed a fine river from north by west which I have called the Scott after E.B. Scott, Esquire, of Moorno on the Murray River, New South Wales. Went on this course about two and a half miles; ascended a peak here and found Mount McConnell to bear 225 degrees. Another large conspicuous mount from seven to eight miles off bears 340 degrees; west and south of Mount Buchanan bears 261 degrees. Changed course here to south one-quarter west, an immense mountain being ahead in the easterly course, I should like to be able to go, which I have called Mount Middleton after our right hand man, one of the party, whose attention to his difficult duties and the good example he showed to the rest of the party would entitle him to the esteem of anyone in my situation. One and a quarter miles south one-quarter west, then east half-south; immediately after the river changing eastwardly the Foster River joins it; about two and a quarter miles on last course and camped; the camel about done up and the country next to impassable; before getting to camp had to ascend a long stony and steep range, and no sooner up than down again in another place, and which did not advance us half a mile on our course. We had a hard frost last night; very difficult country. Mount McConnell bears 238 1/2 degrees.
Saturday, July 26.
Camp 43. A dewless and frostless night. Camel very much done up. Started at 7.53, followed the River Scott. On the left bank is a high precipitous mountain which I have called the Frederick, and on the right hand another high mount which I have called the Phillip, after the two brothers Fletcher of Melbourne. Just as the river takes a south-east course the Scott joins the Burdekin as it comes from south-south-west, flowing to north-north-east. In its whole width a perfect mass of slippery rocks and deep water, and where we struck it no apparent current; although when it contracts more and runs through more narrow rocks there is a strong and rapid stream. After getting about one and a quarter miles along its bank in a north-north-west direction was compelled to halt; perfectly impracticable and will be a most intricate crossing.
Sunday, July 27.
No passage over the ridge or mountains practicable. A raft constructed of such materials as we can get here floated but indifferently with our canteens, one leaky air pillow, and our boiling vessels inverted, some of which were not air-tight, is ready for crossing tomorrow, the things and the men that swim but indifferently; many of the alligators close by in the same reach.
Monday, July 28.
After much swimming by Middleton and Hodgkinson we managed to cross all the things and the camel. The horses we could not get to cross so left them with the men to look after them till tomorrow when we shall try them again and hope for better success; it is a most difficult, intricate, and dangerous place; if they all cross in safety it is more than I expect.
Tuesday, July 29.
Camp 45. By much perseverance and difficulty got the horses and remainder of the men safe across; by 4 p.m. packed up and started down the river east by south, very rough, walking nearly all the way for about one mile, at which place we take to the ranges; in the morning, on our way at about three-quarters of a mile, two considerable running creeks join the river; another running creek joins the river at camp. I shall take the camel on and our only packhorse-load of stuff shall leave behind here till it can be sent for; it consists chiefly of seeds which I should be sorry to lose. I had intended to leave the camel here also, but after thought it best to try and take him on over the ranges one stage and kill him, and by doing so save a horse.
Wednesday, July 30.
Camp 46. Buried the things safely and securely from wet, and should not the natives find them and dig them up they will be perfectly secure till we can send back for them. Obliged to shoe one of the horses which lost his shoe in crossing yesterday on the rocks. Started at 10.15 and at once tackled the range, up a steep hill, down again in a north-east by north direction, crossed a deep ravine, and ascended the first of a series of steep stony hills in a north-east by east course; from the summit Mount McConnell bears 246 degrees. The conspicuous mount round the north side of which the Burdekin passes bears 23 degrees; followed the river in that direction for about five and a half miles to a creek, the north and east drainage of the large range under the western side of which we were latterly travelling, and round the termination of them we camped at a running creek of excellent water coming from east of south-east. We are here very reluctantly obliged to kill our good and faithful companion the last remaining camel (Siva) that was with us in all our reconnoiterings and other journeys; he was indeed a splendid animal but now quite unfit to travel beyond this. I hope to get sufficient of his flesh to carry us into a station, or if the country is at all passable to Port Denison. We are encamped under some splendid shady large-leafed tree in the bed of the creek, leaves about ten inches broad and twelve to fifteen inches long; some of the men found that the leaves dry were a good substitute for tobacco and were soon puffing a cloud.
Thursday, July 31.
Spelled here today to boil down camel. Mild night, day warm, many recent traces of natives here under the shade of these trees, they are firing the grass in various directions around us but we never see anything of them. The remnants of a broken gourd we found here, it has been used as a vessel for carrying water; it was the size of a large coconut with a neck about six inches long, through one side of which they had drilled a hole for a cord for slinging on their arms.
Friday, August 1.
In Camp. Boiling down the camel’s meat. Poole unwell with a slight attack of fever and ague. We made a fine breakfast this morning off the camel tripe and feet. I went out onto the top of a very high hill to have a look at the country in front of us. We shall start tomorrow; I hope shortly to find a station, if not we shall have to kill another horse, and shall have to walk and ride alternately; I hope we shall not come to that as the whole party will be obliged to be kept back on account of having to keep pace with the pedestrian.
Saturday, August 2.
Started at 8.53 a.m., course east by north, each man taking with him a certain weight of the boiled camel before him, as we are now reduced to eleven horses, one alone with pack-bags. After travelling for some nine or ten miles we came upon the tracks of bullocks, quite fresh, and shortly after were gratified by the sight of the bullocks themselves with two white men tailing them. We soon now were pitching into roast beef and damper and, don’t let me forget, potatoes and mustard. The station belongs to Messrs. Harvey and Somers and is situated on the River Bowen, a stream that flows northward into the Burdekin. Mr. Somers was not in on our arrival; he soon however came in, and we were most hospitably received by him. The flour during the night and for some few days after had the most astonishing effect on all of us from the fact that our digestive organs could not digest the bread, being so accustomed to the easily digested meat; we were most of us in great pain and our legs and feet swelled very much.