CHAPTER 1.3.
Fires in the Bush.
Rocks of Bullabalakit.
Boat launched.
Bees load my rifle with honey.
Embark on the Namoi in canvas boats.
Impediments to the navigation.
Boat staked, and sinks.
The leak patched.
She again runs foul of a log.
Provisions damaged.
Resolve to proceed by land.
Pack up the boats, and continue the journey.
Pass the western extremity of Nundewar Range.
Unknown tree.
Water scarce.
Providential supply.
Crayfish.
Trap-hill on plains.
Cut through a scrub.
Meet a tribe of Natives.
Again obliged to cut our way.
Fortunate discovery of water.
Dry valleys.
Mount Frazer.
The party in distress for want of water.
Water found next day.
Ducks.
Wheel Ponds.
Excessive heat and drought.
Description of the woods.
Meet with natives.
Cross the dry bed of a river.
A friendly native with his family.
No water.
Reach the Gwydir.
Cross it with one man.
Prevented by a native with spears, from shooting a kangaroo.
Re-cross the river.
December 23.
This morning all hands were at work. Some good pinetrees were brought to the saw-pit, and one laid upon it. The sailors were set to paint the inside of the canvas for the boats; The Doctor to clear out the dock previous to laying down the keel, etc.; and the bullock-drivers and smith to make a stockyard.
FIRES IN THE BUSH.
At 11 A.M. I discovered the grass near our tents to be on fire, but with the assistance of the people it was fortunately extinguished. All the country beyond the river was in flames, and indeed, from the time of our arrival in these parts, the atmosphere had been so obscured by smoke that I could never obtain a distinct view of the horizon. The smoke darkened the air at night, so as to hide the stars, and thus prevented us from ascertaining our latitude. One spark might have set the whole country on our side in a blaze, and then no food would remain for the cattle, not to mention the danger to our stores and ammunition. Fires prevailed fully as extensively at great distances in the interior, and the sultry air seemed heated by the general conflagration. In the afternoon I took my rifle and explored the course of the river some miles downwards, an interesting walk where probably no white man's foot had ever trod before. I found a flowery desert, the richest part of the adjacent country being quite covered with a fragrant white amaryllis in full bloom.* The river widened into smooth deep reaches, so that I felt sanguine about our progress with the boats. In returning, I examined the hills on the right bank. One, named Einerguendi by Brown, consisted of compact felspar, coloured green by chlorite, with grains of quartz and acicular crystals of felspar.
(Footnote. Calostemma candidum, Lindley manuscripts; foliis...tubo perianthii limbo multo breviore, corona truncata dentibus sterilibus nullis, umbellis densis, pedicellis articulatis exterioribus multo longioribus.)
ROCKS OF BULLABALAKIT.
The hill immediately over our camp was Bullabalakit, and consisted partly of granular felspar, probably tinged greenish with chlorite; and partly of concretionary porphyry, the concretions being mottled red and white, and containing grains of quartz and crystals of common felspar; the white concretions resisting the action of the atmosphere stood in relief on the weather surface; I noticed also a vein of amethystine quartz.
December 24 and 25.
Ribs and thwarts were necessary to distend the canvas boats, and though we had brought only moulds of each sort, yet we had tools and hands to make them when required. We also sawed the pine wood into thin planks to form a floor in each boat, whereon to lay our stores. We made the ribs of bluegum (eucalyptus). The weather was excessively hot, yet the men worked hard at the saw-pit notwithstanding; but all our activity was in danger of being fruitless, for the river each day fell about four inches!
BOAT LAUNCHED.
December 26.
At half-past one P.M. the first boat was launched on the Namoi, and the keel of the second immediately laid down. The delay occasioned by the preparation of these boats was more irksome as the waters of the river continued to subside.
Amongst the objects, which in this country were quite new to me, were the insects continually buzzing about my tent. Of these, a fly as large as a small bee, and of a rich green and gold colour, being a species of stilbum, occasionally surprised me with a hum almost as musical as the tones of an Eolian harp.
BEES LOAD MY RIFLE WITH HONEY.
But the habits of the bees were very remarkable, judging from a singular circumstance which occurred respecting my rifle, for I found that a quantity of wax and honey had been deposited in the barrel, and also in the hollow part of the ramrod. I had previously observed one of these bees occasionally enter the barrel of the piece, and it now appeared that wax and honey had been lodged immediately above the charge, to the depth of about two inches. The honey was first perceived in the hollow part of the ramrod; and although an empty, double-barreled gun lay beside the rifle, neither wax nor honey was found in either of its tubes. The bee, which I frequently observed about my tent, was as large as the English bee, and had a sting.
December 28.
This day I sent off one of the men (Stephen Bombelli) with a despatch for the government at Sydney, giving an account of our journey thus far, and stating my intention of descending the Namoi in the boats. Bombelli was mounted on horseback, armed with a pistol, and provided with food for twelve days, being sufficient to enable him to carry the despatch to Pewen Bewen, and to return to the depot which I had arranged to establish here.
EMBARK ON THE NAMOI IN CANVAS BOATS.
December 29.
We launched the second boat, and having loaded both, I left two men in charge of the carts, bullocks and horses, at Bullabalakit, and embarked, at last, on the waters of the Namoi, on a voyage of discovery.
IMPEDIMENTS TO THE NAVIGATION.
We passed along several reaches without meeting any impediment, but, at length, an accumulation of drift timber and gravel brought us up at a spot where two large trees had fallen across the stream from opposite banks. From the magnitude of these trunks and others which, interwoven with rubbish and buried in gravel, supported them, I anticipated a long delay, but the activity of the whole party was such that a clear passage was opened in less than half an hour. The sailors swam about like frogs, and swimming, divided with a cross-cut saw trees under water. I found I could survey the river as we proceeded by measuring, with a pocket sextant, the angle subtended by the two ends of a twelve feet rod held in the second boat, at the opposite end of each reach, the bearing being observed at the same time. By referring to one of Brewster's tables, the angle formed by the rod of twelve feet, I ascertained thus the length of each reach. This operation occasioned a delay of a few seconds only, just as the last boat arrived in sight of each place of observation.
Several black swans floated before us, and they were apparently not much alarmed even at the unwonted sight of boats on the Namoi. The evenness of the banks and reaches, and the depth and stillness of the waters were such that I might have traced the river downwards, at least so far as such facilities continued, had our boats been of a stronger material than canvas.
BOAT STAKED, AND SINKS.
But dead trees lay almost invisible under water, and at the end of a short reach where I awaited the reappearance of the second boat, we heard suddenly confused shouts, and on making to the shore, and running to the spot, I found that the boat had run foul of a sunken tree and had filled almost immediately. Mr. White had, on the instant, managed to run her ashore, across another sunken trunk, and thus prevented her from going down in deep water opposite to a steep bank. By this disaster our whole stock of tea, sugar, and tobacco, with part of our flour and pork, were immersed in the water, but fortunately all the gunpowder had been stowed in the first boat.
THE LEAK PATCHED.
This catastrophe furnished another instance of the activity of the sailors; the cargo was got out, and the sunken boat being hauled up, a rent was discovered in the canvas of her larboard bow. This the sailmaker patched with a piece of canvas; a fire was made; tar was melted and applied; the boat was set afloat, reloaded, and again underway in an hour and a half.
SHE AGAIN RUNS FOUL OF A LOG.
Once more upon the waters everything seemed to promise a successful voyage down the river, but our hopes were doomed to be of short duration, for as I again awaited the reappearance of the second boat, a shout similar to the first again rose, and on running across the intervening land within the river bend, I found her once more on the point of going down, from similar damage sustained in the STARBOARD bow.
RESOLVE TO PROCEED BY LAND.
It was now near five P.M., and the labours of the day had been sufficient to convince me that the course of the Namoi could be much more conveniently traced at that time by a journey on land than with boats of canvas on the water. We pitched our tents; and on plotting my work I found we were distant, in a direct line, only about two miles from Bullabalakit.
December 30.
The cattle from the depot camp arrived at nine A.M., four men having been sent there early this morning to bring them with the carts and horses to the place where we had disembarked.
PROVISIONS DAMAGED.
The tea, sugar, and biscuit, having got wet in the sunken boat, I was compelled to halt this day in order to dry these articles if possible, in the sun, and the heat being very intense, we were tolerably successful. The sugar, in a liquid state, was laid out in small quantities on tarpaulins; the tea was also spread out thinly before the sun, and thrown about frequently--and thus we were enabled, by the evening, to pack it up quite dry in canisters; the whole having lost in weight two and a half pounds. The sugar had crystallised sufficiently to be put up again, without any danger of fermentation. During many days I had anxiously watched the smoky red hot sky for some appearance of rain: no dew nourished the grass, which had become quite yellow, and the river upon which I set my hopes was rapidly drying up. In my tent the thermometer generally reached 100 degrees of Fahrenheit during the day. At length the welcome sound of thunder was heard, and dark clouds cooled the atmosphere long before sunset. These clouds at length poured a heavy shower on the yawning earth; flakes of ice or hail accompanied it, and we enjoyed a cool draught of iced water, where the air had just before been nearly as warm as the blood.
In emptying the water out of the sunken boat we found a crayfish resembling those which I had seen in the freshwater lagoons about Lake George; the remains of this crustacean were also abundant there, at places where water had been but very temporarily lodged.*
(Footnote. A species of Astacus, which, as far as I am aware, comes very close to the common European crayfish.)
PACK UP THE BOATS, AND CONTINUE THE JOURNEY.
We dismantled our boats, packing up the canvas, and in the hollow of a large tree I buried my collection of geological specimens, that we might be loaded as lightly as possible.
December 31.
Quitting this spot at seven A.M. we continued on a bearing of 20 degrees west of north, and passed through a scrub of Acacia pendula, in which grew some eucalypti. At two and three-quarter miles we entered on a spacious open plain which appeared to extend westward to the river, a distance of about two miles. We crossed the more elevated and eastern part of this plain. We next entered a scrub of Acacia pendula, which at seven miles opened into a forest of apple-trees and other eucalypti. We soon after reached Maule's creek, the passage of which, on account of its steep banks, cost us an hour and a half. This induced me to encamp there, influenced also by the apprehension of a want of water, at any convenient distance beyond it. On first approaching water I had frequently an opportunity of observing that the worst characters have the least control over their appetites, in cases of extreme privation. It was a standing order, which I insisted on being observed, that no man should quit the line of route to drink without my permission. There was one, notwithstanding, who never could, in cases of extremity, resist the temptation of water, and who would rush to it, regardless of consequences. Now this man continued to be an irreclaimable character, and in six years after he had lost all the advantages he gained by his services on this occasion. The morning had been calm and very hot, but at three P.M. the sun was obscured, to our inexpressible relief, and clouds full of thunder at length overcast the whole sky; only a few drops of rain fell about six P.M.; and at ten the heavens became clear, the air however was cool and refreshing.
PASS THE WESTERN EXTREMITY OF NUNDEWAR RANGE.
January 1, 1832.
We proceeded on the same bearing, travelling over a very level surface. As we approached the western extremity of the great range, we touched on an open plain, whereof the soil was very rich. The greater portion of it lay on the left, or westward of our route, or towards the river. After crossing it we again entered a thin scrub of Acacia pendula, which having been recently burnt was open and favourable for passing through. We afterwards crossed a succession of gentle undulations, and through an opening, along the bottom of one valley, I obtained a view over the flat country to the westward. The most remarkable feature was a naked ridge of yellowish rock which rose abruptly from the woody country, as if it overhung the river. I wished much to examine that singular mass, but we were proceeding with little prospect of finding water, and we had impassable scrubs before us, as well as rocky hills on our right. A valley at length appeared in our route, and in which from the nature of the mountains at its head, I hoped to find water. In this I was however disappointed, for the channel, although of considerable depth, was quite dry, and I in vain searched its bed for at least a mile upwards. At ten miles the most western head of the range of Nundewar bore north, its low western extremity being distant only about a quarter of a mile. We were about to cross some offsets from the range, when a thick scrub or brush obstructed our further progress in that direction. I entered it and penetrated about a mile and a half without discovering any indication of water, or any opening through which the carts might pass. The weather was extremely warm, and as we had come a long journey, I determined to encamp once more on the Namoi; and turning westward I followed a line of flats and hollows, which led me to the nearest bend of that river. We calculated we had travelled twenty-one miles, although the distance by latitude and angles taken on the hills is less. Thermometer 97 degrees in the shade. Where we encamped the river was shallow, with many dead trees in the channel; but a little lower down it formed a deep, broad, and extensive reach. The latitude as ascertained by the stars Aldebaran and Rigel was 30 degrees 24 minutes 44 seconds South.
January 2.
We pursued a north-west course after getting clear of the river, my object being to keep within reach of it, if possible, in case of scarcity of water. Yet with such a range on our right this was not much to be apprehended; indeed, our line of exploration was as favourable as could be wished, having a river on one hand, and a lofty range on the other; the country between presenting no impediment to our progress northward. At about two miles we crossed a small watercourse with some pools in it, and half a mile further the broad bed of a river, the course of which was towards the Namoi, but it did not contain much water. It could not be a long river in either direction, though the width, the height of banks, and the large water-worn stones in its bed, gave it the appearance of being at times a considerable stream. Some caution was necessary at both these watercourses in passing the carts over, the banks of both being steep; we crossed them however without much delay. We next ascended, by a gradual slope, a low ridge, which had on its summit a species of the eucalyptus with yellow bark, presenting a striking contrast to other trees, the line between them being also well defined. The rock consisted of red sandstone, the first I had seen to the northward of Liverpool range. On descending, which we did by a gentle slope, the scrub became gradually thin, and at length opened to a clear verdant surface, extending far to the north and west. It was now obvious that nothing could obstruct our progress into the regions beyond the great range. On the contrary, a beautiful open country lay at its base, reaching quite round it to the north-east. A fresh cooling breeze from the north-west fanned our faces as we beheld, for the first time, that fine country. The recollection of the rocks which we had endeavoured to cross further east perhaps heightened its beauty in our eyes, but the great range itself formed a sublime horizon on the east, some of the summits having very remarkably pointed or castellated forms.
UNKNOWN TREE.
One tree of an uncommon genus grew on the borders of the plain, and about a mile to the west one solitary hill stood in this plain, like an island in the sea. It was flat-topped, with a few trees on the summit. The uncommon tree was covered with a yellow blossom, the leaf was dark green and shining, and the wood was white.* The low country, which seemed most to promise water, was still distant, while the course of the Namoi was receding from our route as I had reason to believe from the position of the low ridge which I had crossed. An opening in the distance westward seemed to mark its course.
(*Footnote. See the Journal of my next Journey Chapter 2.8.)
WATER SCARCE.
I was still disposed to pursue a middle direction between the mountains and the river (35 degrees West of North) but I bore in mind the necessity for turning these ranges, so as to pass into that part of the country beyond them at which we should have arrived if we had crossed them where we first attempted, in order to determine the question as to the existence of the large river there, as stated by The Barber.
PROVIDENTIAL SUPPLY.
A rather elevated but grassy plain afforded little prospect of water being near at the time we were about to halt and rest, after a long journey, and I had directed the men to pitch the tents, despairing of reaching water that day, when I suddenly came upon a deep pool. I was truly sensible of the goodness of Providence, considering that this was to all appearance the only water within many miles, and on a plain where I had no reason to expect it. I could not then see how the pond was supplied.
CRAYFISH.
Neither was this all our good fortune, for having directed Jones (one of the men ablest at fishing) to try the pond, to the no small amusement of the others; he nevertheless drew out in a short time a good dish of crayfish (or lobsters, as they termed them). We had also killed a kangaroo that morning, which enabled us to feed our famished dogs, so that our entry on this new region could not have been more auspicious.
TRAP-HILL ON PLAINS.
In the afternoon I walked to the isolated hill of the plain, and found that it consisted of trap-rock, a solid mass projecting from the earth, with little or no soil upon it. Its greater elongation extended due north and south, conformable to the direction of most of the other summits I had ascended. The steepest side was towards the east, and its height was 50 feet above the plain. From this hill I perceived another like it, due south, and distant about half a mile.
NUNDEWAR RANGE FROM THE WEST, 3RD JANUARY.
Left to right: Mount Riddell, Courada, Mount Lindesay, Kapular, Mount Forbes.
The dead silence of the solitary plains around me was broken by the sound of a distant thunderstorm which was then exhausting itself on the Nundewar range, while the sun was setting in perfect tranquillity on the unbroken horizon of the west. Afterwards the night was dark and stormy, and at ten it began to rain, a circumstance rather alarming to us then, considering the nature of the soil of these plains, which a few days' rain must have rendered nearly impassable.
January 3.
A fine serene morning, although the eastern mountains still echoed under clouds of thunder. We left the Lobster Pond at six, and continued our route in the direction of 35 degrees west of north for the first twelve miles.
CUT THROUGH A SCRUB.
Having reached, at length, the northern limits of the plain, we encountered, after passing through some slight woods of Acacia pendula and eucalyptus, a thick brush through which we were obliged to open a way with axes for a mile and a half.
MEET A TRIBE OF NATIVES.
While engaged in this work, one of the men said he heard voices. On gaining once more the opener forest, we saw two newly felled trees which had been cut with an iron axe or tomahawk; and immediately after we perceived the natives at a little distance. They were hurrying off, but being most anxious to conciliate them and gain if possible some information respecting the country, I sent Dawkins, who was an eager volunteer on the occasion, forward to them, and he prevailed on several to stop and speak to him, while their women and children decamped. When they seemed no longer disposed to run, I ventured forward; but those who had got round Dawkins, on seeing me approach, made off, one by one, until none remained when I rode up to Dawkins, except a young man. Not a word was understood on either side, yet our new acquaintance talked fluently, and also repeated what we said to him. He carried no spear or weapon, with the exception of three little sticks, which he held in the left hand; neither did he wear any dress or ornament, nor was his skin much scarified. His features were not bad, and they wore an expression of extreme good nature. We now regretted more than ever the absence of Mr. Brown, as with his assistance we might now have learnt so much respecting the rivers and the country before us. The tribe appeared to consist of about thirty individuals; those who remained, at a distance, carried spears, and were evidently much afraid of us. The string of low slang words which the natives nearer the colony suppose to be our language, while our stockmen believe they speak theirs, was of no use here. In vain did Dawkins address them thus: "What for you jerran budgerry whitefellow?" "Whitefellow brother belong it to blackfellow."* Neither had the piece of tobacco, which he had put in the stranger's mouth, any effect in bringing intelligible words out of it, although the poor fellow complacently chewed the bitter weed. He readily ate some bread which was given him, and on presenting him with a halfpenny he signified by gesture that he should wear it at his breast, a fashion of the natives nearer the colony. I placed in his hand a small tomahawk, the most valuable of gifts to his tribe; and leaving him enriched thus, we quietly continued our journey, that the tribe might see our purpose had no particular reference to them, and that they had no cause for alarm, as our behaviour to the young man must have sufficiently testified.
(*Footnote. Meaning: Why are you afraid of a good white man? The white man is the black man's brother.)
We soon after entered another extensive plain on which the rich soil, when we had got halfway across, changed to a stiff clay, the grass marking the change by a difference of colour, being red on the clay and quite green on the other soil. This clay occupied the highest part of the plain. Passing through another scrub of Acacia pendula we reached a still more extensive plain, and while we were crossing it I was informed, by the carpenter, that the wheels of one of the carts were falling to pieces and required immediate repair. We accordingly halted, and some wedges were driven into them. The thermometer here stood at 97 degrees.
AGAIN OBLIGED TO CUT OUR WAY.
A brush of Acacia pendula also bounded this plain on the north; and beyond it we entered a scrub of forest-oak (casuarina) which was so very thick that we were compelled to halt the carts until a way could be cut through it for upwards of two miles; beyond that distance however the brush opened into patches of clearer ground. We had changed our course to north in the large plain, and had preserved this direction in cutting through these scrubs. It was now four P.M., and during the whole journey from six A.M., we had seen no water; the day also was exceedingly warm, and I was riding in advance of the party, and looking at some elevated ground in an opening of the wood with thoughts of encamping there, but very doubtful whether we should ever see water again.
FORTUNATE DISCOVERY OF WATER.
When almost in despair I observed a small hollow with an unusually large gumtree hanging over it; and my delight under such circumstances may be imagined, when I perceived on going forward, the goodly white trunk of the tree reflected in a large pond. A grassy flat beside the water proved quite a home to us, affording food for our cattle, and rest from the fatigues of that laborious day. We found these ponds in situations which seemed rather elevated above the adjacent plains, at least their immediate banks were higher; hence we usually came upon them where we least expected to see water, before we were acquainted with this peculiarity of the country. The pond where we now encamped was connected with several others that were dry, but it was quite impossible at that time to discover which way the current ran in times of flood. The latitude was 30 degrees 6 minutes 30 seconds South. In the evening the sky was illuminated so much by an extensive fire in the woods near us that the light was clearer in our camp than the brightest moonlight.
DRY VALLEYS.
January 4.
Continuing due north, we just avoided some thick scrubs, which either on the right or left would have been very difficult to penetrate. The woods opened gradually however, into a thick copse of Acacia pendula, and at the end of three miles we reached the eastern skirts of an extensive open plain, the ground gently undulating. At 4 3/4 miles, on ascending a slight eminence, we suddenly overlooked a rather deep channel, containing abundance of water in ponds, the opposite banks being the highest ground visible. The vast plains thus watered consist chiefly of a rich dark-coloured earth, to the depth of 30 or 40 feet. Unabraded fragments of trap are not uncommon in the soil of these plains, and I imagined there was a want of symmetry in the hollows and slopes as compared with features more closely connected with hills elsewhere. At 8 1/2 miles, perceiving boundless plains to the northward, I changed the direction of our route 24 degrees east of north. The plains extended westward to the horizon, and opened to our view an extensive prospect towards the north-east, into the country north of the range of Nundewar, a region apparently champaign, but including a few isolated and picturesque hills. Patches of wood were scattered over the level parts, and we hastened towards a land of such promising aspect. Water however was the great object of our search, but I had no doubt that I should find enough in a long valley before us, which descended from the range on the east. In this I was nevertheless mistaken; for although the valley was well escarped, it did not contain even the trace of a watercourse.
MOUNT FRAZER.
Crossing the ridge beyond it, to a valley still deeper, which extended under a ridge of very remarkable hills, we met with no better success; nor yet when we had followed the valley to its union with another, under a hill which I named Mount Frazer, after the botanist of that name.
THE PARTY IN DISTRESS FOR WANT OF WATER.
No other prospect of relief from this most distressing of all privations remained to us, and the day was one of extraordinary heat, for the thermometer, which had never before been above 101 degrees on this journey, now stood at 108 degrees in the shade. The party had travelled sixteen miles, and the cattle could not be driven further with any better prospect of finding water. We therefore encamped in this valley while I explored it upwards, but found all dry and desolate. Mr. White returned late, after a most laborious but equally fruitless search northward, and we consequently passed a most disagreeable afternoon. Unable to eat, the cattle lay groaning, and the men extended on their backs watched some heavy thunderclouds which at length stretched over the sky; the very crows sat on the trees with their mouths open.
A CROW DURING EXTREME DROUGHT.
A thirsty crow, as seen through a glass.
The thunder roared and the cloud broke darkly over us, but its liquid contents seemed to evaporate in the middle air. At half-past seven a strong hot wind set in from the north-east and continued during the night. Thermometer 90 degrees. I was suddenly awoke from feverish sleep by a violent shaking of my tent, and I distinctly heard the flapping of very large wings, as if some bird, perhaps an owl, had perched upon it.
January 5.
The sun's rays were scorching before his red orb had cleared the horizon, but ere he appeared the party was in motion. No dew had fallen, yet even the distressed bullocks and horses seemed to participate in the hope which led us forward. With one accord men and quadrupeds hastened from the inhospitable valley, common sufferers from the want of an element so essential to the living world. Continuing on the same bearing of 24 degrees east of north we reached the highest part of some clear ground, at about two miles from where we had encamped, and from this spot I obtained an extensive view over the country before us. The ground sloped for several miles towards a line of trees beyond which a steep ridge extended parallel to that line, and upwards to the mountains, evidently enclosing a channel of drainage, so that I ventured at once, on seeing this, to assure the men that I saw where we should meet with water. The way to it was all downhill, open and smooth; while the Nundewar range, now to the southward, presented, on this northern side, a beautiful variety of summits.
WATER FOUND NEXT DAY. DISCOVER A SMALL RIVER.
I galloped impatiently towards the line of wood, and found there a meandering channel full of water, with steep banks of soft earth, apparently a small river, and I hastened back with the welcome intelligence to the men. The extreme heat and the fatigue of travelling could not have been borne much longer. One man (Woods) had been left behind at his own request, being unable even to ride, from violent pains in his stomach; another was also so ill that he could not walk; the bullocks still drew, but with their tongues protruding most piteously. I sent a man on horseback back with a kettleful of water to Woods. The cattle being unyoked rushed to the stream, and in half an hour we were all comfortably encamped, with good grass beside us for the cattle. The bottom of this small river-channel was in no part gravelly, but consisted of soft earth, in which however the cattle did not sink very deep. Fragments of flint, basalt, and quartz, apparently not worn by attrition, abound in the adjacent soil. The general direction of the watercourse appeared to be about 36 degrees north of west.
DUCKS.
At a pond above our camp the carpenter shot two ducks of a kind not previously seen by us, having a purple speck on the head, behind the ear.
We had now arrived in the country beyond the mountains which we had in vain attempted to cross, having found an open and accessible way round them; it remained to be ascertained whether the large river, as described by The Bushranger, was near; according to him it was the first river to be met with after crossing the range north-east by north of Tangulda.
At four P.M. the thermometer stood at 101 degrees. The latitude was ascertained in the evening to be 29 degrees 50 minutes 29 seconds South.
WHEEL PONDS.
January 6.
The morning was rather cool, with clouds and distant thunder. We now proceeded in a northerly direction until we were impeded by scrub, about three miles from the camp. Through this we cut our way, keeping as closely in the northern direction as the openings would allow. At length the wheels of one of the carts, and the axle of another, became unserviceable, and could not be repaired, unless we halted for two days. As they could only be dragged a few miles further, I went forward as soon as we got clear of the scrubs, which extended three miles, in search of water for an encampment. I came upon a slight hollow and followed it down, but it disappeared on a level plain, bounded on each side by rising grounds. One dry pond encouraged my hopes, and I continued my search along a narrow flat, where the grass had been recently on fire. From this point, and while pursuing a kangaroo, I came upon a well marked watercourse with deep holes, but all these were dry. Tracing the line of these holes downwards to where the other flat united with it I found, exactly in the point of junction, as I had reason to expect, a deep pool of water. Once more therefore we could encamp, especially as two very large ponds on a rocky bed were found a little lower than that water first discovered. This element was daily becoming more precious in our estimation, and I had reason to be very anxious about it, on account of Mr. Finch, who was following in our track. The spot on which we encamped was covered with rich grass, and enclosed by shady casuarinae and thick brush. The prospect of two days' repose for the cattle on that verdure, and under these shades, was most refreshing to us all. It was, indeed, a charming spot, enlivened by numbers of pigeons, and the songs of little birds, in strange, but very pleasing notes.
Here I again remarked that among these casuarinae scrubs the eucalyptus, so common in the colony, was only to be seen near water; so that its white shining bark and gnarled branches, while they reminded us of home at Sydney, also marked out the spots for fixing our nightly home in the bush.
EXCESSIVE HEAT AND DROUGHT.
January 7.
The night had been unusually hot, the thermometer having stood at 90 degrees, and there had not been a breath of wind. Few of the men had slept. Thus even night, which had previously afforded us some protection from our great enemy, the heat, no longer relieved us from its effects; and this incessant high temperature which weakened the cattle, dried up the waters, destroyed our wheels, and nourished the fires that covered the country with smoke, made humidity appear to us the very essence of existence, and water almost an object of adoration. No disciple of Zoroaster could have made proselytes of us. The thermometer ranged from 96 to 101 degrees during the day, and during the last five nights had stood as high as 90 degrees between sunset and sunrise. From the time the party left Sydney rain had fallen on only one day. We left each friendly waterhole in the greatest uncertainty whether we should ever drink again, and it may be imagined with what interest, under such circumstances, I watched the progress of a cloudy sky. It was not uncommon for the heavens to be overcast, but the clouds seemed to consist more of smoke than moist vapour. The wind, from the time of our first arrival in the country, had blown from the north or north-west, and the bent of trees, at all exposed, showed that these were the prevailing winds.
DESCRIPTION OF THE WOODS.
The country when seen from an eminence appeared to be very generally wooded, but the lower parts were perfectly clear, or thinly strewed with bushes, and slender trees, chiefly varieties of acacia. The principal wood consisted of casuarinae which grew in thick clumps, or scrubs, and very much impeded, as has already been stated, our progress in any given direction. I found that these scrubs of casuarinae grew generally on rising grounds, and chiefly on their northern or eastern slopes. We saw little of the callitris tribe, after we had crossed the first hill beyond our last camp on the Namoi. On the contrary, these casuarinae scrubs and grassy plains seemed to characterise the country to the westward and northward of the Nundewar range, as far, at least, as we had yet penetrated. The course of this chain of ponds appeared to be parallel to that on which we had previously encamped, 36 degrees North of West. A yellow, highly calcareous sandstone occurred in the bed and banks of this stream, forming a stratum from two or three feet in thickness, and in parts of the upper surface nodules of ironstone were embedded.
On examining our wheels, we found that the heat had damaged them very much, some of the spokes having shrunk more than an inch. The carpenter managed however to repair them this day.
January 8.
The morning was cool and pleasant, with a breeze from the west. We left the ponds (named Wheel Ponds) exactly at six A.M., and, after travelling a mile, entered a scrub through which we were compelled to cut a lane with axes, for three miles; when at length the wood opened, and some trees of that species of eucalyptus called box grew on the flats. At five miles from our camp I shot a kangaroo.
MEET WITH NATIVES.
At seven miles, as we entered a forest,* we heard the sound of the natives' hatchets, and we saw soon after their fires at a distance. We at length came unawares upon a native in a tree, for he was so busy at work cutting out an opossum, that he did not see us, until we were very near him. A gin and child gave the alarm, upon which he stared at the strange assemblage with a look of horror, and immediately calling to the female in an authoritative tone, she disappeared in the woods. He then threw a club, or nulla-nulla, to the foot of the tree, and ascended to the highest branch. I called to him, and made such signs as I thought most likely to give him confidence and remove his apprehensions of harm; but apparently to no purpose, for his reply was "Ogai!" pronounced in a loud imperative tone. I thought it best to proceed quietly on our way; whereupon he descended and ran off, having picked up two spears which lay near the tree. We heard calls in various directions, and witefellow pronounced very loudly and distinctly. Witefellow, or wite ma, appears to be their name (of course derived from us) for our race, and this appellation probably accompanies the first intelligence of such strangers to the most remote, interior regions.
(*Footnote. A forest means in New South Wales, an open wood, with grass. The common bush or scrub consists of trees and saplings, where little grass is to be found.)
CROSS THE DRY BED OF A RIVER.
We soon after came upon the bank of a river-course, in the bed of which, although deep, broad, and gravelly, there was no water; its general direction was westward. At eight miles we entered upon an extensive, open plain, which reached to the horizon in the direction of 10 degrees West of North. We crossed it, continuing our journey northward, until a thick scrub obliged me to turn to the east.
A FRIENDLY NATIVE WITH HIS FAMILY.
At thirteen miles, being again in a wood, we heard the native axe at work, and, naturally eager to communicate with or even see the faces of fellow-creatures in these dismal solitudes, I allowed Dawkins to go towards them unarmed, that he might, at least by signs, ascertain where water was to be found. A considerable time having elapsed without his reappearance, I went after him, and found him in communication (by signs) with a very civil native, who had just carried a quantity of wild honey to his gin and child, having first offered some to Dawkins. This man betrayed no signs of fear, neither had he any offensive weapons, but he refused to accompany Dawkins to the rest of the party, rather inviting the latter, by signs, to accompany him. For water, he pointed both to the north-east and south-west, and all around, as if it had been abundant; numerous pigeons and kangaroos also showed that there was some at no great distance; nevertheless we were doomed to pass another night without any, after a long day's journey.
NO WATER.
On quitting the wood where we met the native we crossed a plain which appeared to slope westward. Night was coming on, and I directed my course towards some tall trees, where we found a hollow, but no water remained in it; yet here we were nevertheless obliged to encamp. Some of the men who had set out in search of water had not returned when it became dark; but on our sending up a rocket they found their way to the camp, although they had not succeeded in their search for water.
From this camp the summits of the Nundewar range were still visible, and very useful in determining our longitude. One cone in particular (Mount Riddell) promised from its height to be a landmark still on these northern plains. (See below, outline of summits as seen on 12th January.)
REACH THE GWYDIR.
Continuing our journey at half-past five A.M. over the clear plain, we came upon several ponds, distant not more than a mile from where we had passed the night. We lost no time in watering the cattle and proceeding. At half a mile beyond I perceived on the right some very green grass by the edge of a hollow, overhung by spreading eucalypti. I found there a fine lagoon of considerable extent, and brim-full of the purest water. There were no reeds, but short grass grew on the brink, and near the shore a few waterlilies. Here we filled our keg and kettles. We next crossed some slightly rising ground, and high in the branches of the trees I perceived, to my astonishment, dry tufts of grass, old logs, and other drift matter! I felt confident that we were at length approaching something new, perhaps the large river, the Kindur of The Bushranger. On descending by a very gentle slope, a dark and dense line of gigantic bluegum-trees (eucalyptus) growing amid long grass and reeds, encouraged our hopes that we had at length found the big river. A narrow tract of rich soil covered with long grass and seared with deep furrows intervened. I galloped over this, and beheld a broad silvery expanse, shaded by steep banks and lofty trees. In this water no current was perceptible, but the breadth and depth of channel far exceeded that of the Namoi. Nevertheless this was not the Kindur as described by The Barber, but evidently the Gwydir of Cunningham, as seen by him at a higher part of its course. We were exactly in the latitude of the Gwydir, the course of which was also westward. It was however a very new feature of the country to us, and after so much privation, heat and exposure the living stream and umbrageous foliage gave us a grateful sense of abundance, coolness, and shade. Trees of great magnitude give a grandness of character to any landscape, but especially to river scenery. The blue gum (eucalyptus) luxuriates on the margin of rivers, and grows in such situations to an enormous size. Such trees overhung the water of the Gwydir, forming dense masses of shade, in which white cockatoos (Plyctolophus galeritus) sported like spirits of light.
CROSS IT WITH ONE MAN.
As soon as I had fixed on the camp I forded the river, accompanied by Woods carrying my rifle. The water where I crossed did not reach above the ankle, but the steepness of the banks on each side was a great obstacle to the passage of my horse. I proceeded due north, in search of rising ground, but the whole country seemed quite level. After crossing an open plain of about two miles in length, I entered a brush of Acacia pendula, and soon after I arrived at an old channel or hollow scooped out by floods.
PREVENTED BY A NATIVE WITH SPEARS FROM SHOOTING A KANGAROO.
As I approached a line of bushes I saw a kangaroo which sat looking at my horse until we were very near it, and I was asking Woods whether he thought we could manage to carry it back if I shot it; when my horse, suddenly pricking his ears, drew my attention to a native, apparently also intent on the kangaroo, and having two spears on his shoulder. On perceiving me he stood and stared for a moment, then taking one step back, and swinging his right arm in the air, he poised one of his spears, and stood stretched out in an attitude to throw. He was a tall man, covered with pipe-clay, and his position of defiance then, as he could never have before seen a horse, was manly enough. It was not prudent to retire at that moment, although I was most anxious to avoid a quarrel. I therefore galloped my horse at the native, which had the desired effect; for he immediately turned, and disappeared at a dog-trot among the bushes.
RE-CROSS THE RIVER.
By going forward I gained a convenient cover, which enabled me to retire upon the river without seeming to turn, as in fact I did, to avoid further collision with the natives at so great a distance from the party. The bed of the river was flat, and consisted of small pebbles, not much worn by attrition, and mixed with sand. Many dead trees lay in parts of the channel. The average breadth of the water was forty-five yards; the breadth from bank to bank seventy-two yards; and the perpendicular height of the banks above the water twenty-seven feet.
In the afternoon the natives appeared on the opposite bank, and were soon after heard calling out "Witefellow, Witefellow." Dawkins advanced quietly to the riverbank to speak to them and encourage them to cross; but they disappeared as soon as they saw him.
The Barber had stated that the large river was the first water to be met with after crossing the range in the direction of north-east by north from Tangulda. We had reached the country beyond that range by going round it; and had at length found, after crossing various dry channels, not the great river described by him, but only the Gwydir of Cunningham. It remained for me to trace this into the interior, as far as might be necessary to ascertain its ultimate course; with the probability, also, of discovering its junction with some river of greater importance.