“We, the undersigned, proprietors of stock on the River Murray and its tributaries, appreciating the very great benefits which cannot fail to result from the introduction of a line of steamers for passengers and produce, on the Murray, desire to congratulate you on the personal distinction of being the first successfully to accomplish this important work.
“Our earnest wishes and expectations are, that, however extended the field of this enterprise may hereafter become, your share of the benefits may at least bear due proportion to the energetic spirit which has acquired for you the permanent honour of opening up the trade and commerce of this great river, by means of steam communication.
“Whilst we recognize with satisfaction the enterprising spirit you have displayed in carrying out so successfully the establishment of this important undertaking, in the midst of difficulties of no ordinary description, consequent upon the vast and well-known changes which have arisen from the gold discoveries throughout Australia, we beg to assure you, that we feel it alike a duty and a pleasure, on the present occasion, to take this the very earliest opportunity to intimate to you, that a certain amount of money has been equally subscribed by us, for the purpose of being applied in any manner most agreeable to yourself, in the acquisition of some memorial of your first steam voyage on the River Murray.
“You are aware of the extreme distances at which our respective stations are situated, and the consequent difficulty of our waiting upon you and ascertaining personally when and where it would be most suitable to you for the presentation of the testimonial to take place.
“We shall, therefore, feel much indebted by your communicating your wishes on this subject to the Hon. Secretary, at your earliest convenience.
“Foregoing Signatures.
“Francis Cadell, Esq., Commander, Lady Augusta.”
AN AUSTRALIAN FARM SCENE
Sunday, October 9.—The weather, rather oppressively warm during the day, is now overcast and threatens some continuance of rain. Having, however, fortified myself with Roscoe’s admirable Memoir of Lorenzo di Medicis, I feel in some measure independent of clouds and sunshine. The books we have on board are numerous, and many of them excellent, but, after seven weeks, some novelty is refreshing. We passed Mooruna, the station of the Albert Commissioner, about 3 p.m., and left there some articles and stores for that official. It has not a pleasing aspect, being, even at this season, almost denuded of verdure, and, moreover, fiercely red. About dusk, we were hailed by a native from Messrs. Rutherford and Crozier’s station, and accordingly “lay-to,” taking Mr. Crozier on board. This detention, though at the time it appeared unnecessary, was of service to the Captain, as he was enabled to obtain, through Mr. Crozier and the natives of the station, the exact “whereabouts” of a sunken rock,[27] which lies nearly in mid-channel, and opposite to Rutherford’s Ferry. During the night, heavy rain fell, which wetted us a little in the cabin; but has not, we trust, injured the cargo.
Saturday, October 8th.—The morning wet and cheerless, and so continued till we deposited Commissioner Cole at the station called Bob and Harry’s, which is not far distant from Lake Victoria—a sheet of water of some extent, connected with the Murray by a stream called the Rufus. At night, we anchored under some high sand cliffs, of singular formation, near the boundary of South Australia—which province, it is presumed, we have now entered. On Monday morning early, we expect to be at Mr. Chapman’s, remaining here all Sunday—which, to us, is a dies non. It now occurs to me, that I commenced these notes with a declaration and determination not to chronicle our daily proceedings on board, which, I had imagined, could not but prove “flat, stale, and unprofitable.” As, however, I have infringed on this rule, it may, perhaps, be now excusable to continue in transgression, by giving the routine of our river life. Pour commencer, then, we—that is, the gentlemen of the party, who sleep in the main cabin, the sofas of which form two tiers of berths—rise about six, sip some coffee, and dress in the fore cabin.[28] At a little before nine, is breakfast, a déjeûner à la fourchette; about twelve, bread and cheese, with a glass of ale or wine; at four is dinner, a substantial and most abundant meal, of which, good curry is a predominating feature; at seven, comes tea, which does not appear to be so favourite a beverage as it deserves—partly, perhaps, for want of milk, which is only occasionally obtained; at nine, the beds are made up; and about eleven, most on board appear to sleep. These particulars will also answer, in most respects, for the ladies of our party, whose cabin (the after one) opens into the main saloon. The deck of the Lady Augusta is now the only place for walking on board, but it serves well enough for a few at a time; as, however, the vessel must stop almost daily to take in wood, there is no want of opportunities for exercise—the real mainstay of health, I certainly believe, in every climate. On this subject, however, I feel compelled to say, that though I most willingly accompanied His Excellency—as in deference to his wishes I was bound to do—and although, I doubt not, the river voyage may eventually prove of service to my health, yet, had I been aware of some of the dèsagrémens which I have since encountered, I might, perhaps, have been enabled to shorten my stay on board. “It is wrong to look a gift horse in the mouth;” and it would be ungenerous to find fault where no wrong has been intended; but though Captain Cadell’s attention to all his guests has been as unremitting as his navigating energy, the courtesy of his officers (who, from the extent of our party, must have been somewhat incommoded) universal, and the disposition of the crew most obliging, yet have we all, I think, without exception, been found at times to complain of the effects, it is to be presumed, of our daily meals. I believe, myself, the ladies have been the greatest sufferers; but they have borne their trials with such endurance through this picnic voyage of more than seven weeks, that it may seem a bold assertion to admit it all.
Sunday.—During the whole of this day we have had continual showers, and the weather has been altogether cold, and most unlike Australia, particularly at this season, and on the Murray, where it is said, it never rains. Most of our party, however, managed to climb the cliffs under which we lay, and from whence an extensive and pleasing view of the river was obtained.
On Monday morning, early, we cast off, having taken in a small stock of wood, which was procured by the officers and crew cutting down the pines above us, and hurling them over the cliff. The blacks, brought by Mr. Mason from Wellington, then carried it on board, and afterwards sawed and split it asunder. These three natives, I may add, have proved particularly useful whilst on board.
About one we reached Mr. Chapman’s (Paringa), conspicuous from afar by a tri-coloured flag with the words “Cead mille failthea” inscribed thereon—having passed this morning through a more open country, and if not more picturesque, certainly of a bolder character. This consisted of ranges of bold red cliffs, which, at a distance, bore some resemblance to the Avon or the Wye. On a nearer approach, however, their rugged aspect and scanty verdure—a few scrub bushes, interspersed with pines and gum trees—belied so soft a simile; and, but for their waterworn appearance, I would now rather liken them in feature to the wilder scenery of portions of the rivers in the west of Brittany. We wooded again in the evening, and then steamed on till one or two a.m., of Tuesday, the 11th of October, having been all rather disturbed during the night by an awful crash amongst the gum trees; this, however, appeared more formidable than it really was, and committed no other havoc but an addition to the honourable scars which the Lady Augusta—now “stove in” in various places—bears upon her sides. Now, we pursue our way through a more varied country, particularly about Talibka (Mr. Wigley’s), to the “North-West Bend,” which we hope to reach this evening; the weather remaining cool and cloudy, and far more like an English than an Australian climate. Our wooding place this evening bears quite a resemblance, the sandy soil excepted, to an English park; and sweeping round it, above the stream, is a fine range of bold cliffs.
Last night we managed to get the Eureka aground, and she was not set afloat again without considerable exertion of steam force. The shadows cast by the trees, which overhang the water, render night navigation somewhat difficult, and though we pressed on with full power we did not succeed in reaching the Bend, as we anticipated. Meanwhile the stores are getting less, and yesterday we had nothing but champagne at dinner, instead of the accustomed layer of good draught port. This is something like the guardsman roughing it on his beefsteak and his bottle of port, but that, in this part of the world, there is never any fear of being without the staple commodity—good mutton.
The Lady Augusta left her boat this morning at the wooding station,[29] and we were consequently unable to land at Mr. Walsh’s, which appears one of the prettiest stations on the river. Mr. W., however, came on board in a nice little wherry, reminding one more of the Thames than the Murray, and left some newspapers, which have again put us in possession of the state of affairs in Adelaide. Our party, however, complain that they contain no news; though I have, myself, been much amused, I may say interested, by a journal of our trip up to Swan Hill, which appears in the Register; nor am I sorry to find therein, from the report of the Select Committee of the Legislative Council on the proposed Civil List, that my salary, amongst others, is likely to be doubled.