The river we had encamped upon the preceding night had a level sandy channel thirty-five yards wide, with several shallow pools in its bed; a narrow belt of flooded-gum lined either bank, which also produced abundance of excellent feed; several of the grasses were new to us, yielding a large quantity of seed; further back the pasture was more scanty, and of an inferior variety of grass, the trees consisting almost entirely of small hakea or acacia.
The features of the country are generally very tame, with the exception of a prominent hill of considerable altitude, nearly twenty miles to the northward, to which we gave the name of Mount Gascoyne. The summit of another range, of less elevation, a little to the northward of west, distant fifteen miles, was called Mount Puckford.
Having decided upon following the left bank of the river, with the view of ascertaining what tributaries might joint from the southward, we this morning took our course for Mount Puckford, touching frequently upon the bends of the river, which soon found a junction with a large channel coming from the eastward, which ultimately proved to be the main Gascoyne; it was still running in a small stream in the bottom of a sandy bed, eighty yards wide, traces of recent heavy floods being plentiful. At ten miles the river has broken through a ridge of opaline rocks, in irregular masses, resembling flints, lying north-east and south-west, and a few miles further coming in contact with the south-east foot of Mount Puckford, it doubles back round its north-east base, and there takes a general north-west course to latitude 24 degrees 36 minutes, and longitude 116 degrees east, which we reached by noon of the 7th, a considerable tributary joining at this point from the northward. A compact sandstone range, resting on a granite base (which was named the Lockier Range, after Mr. Lockier Burgess, one of the principal promoters of the expedition), here diverts the course of the river to the left, which, by sundown, we found was running nearly south. The country for the last fifty miles varies but little in character, extensive open plains alternating with low granite ridges; the banks of the river, which here has acquired a width of 100 yards, with a depth of forty-six feet, being in many places stony and cut down by deep muddy creeks, rendering travelling both slow and laborious. Several tributaries join from the north and south, all of which had very recently ceased to run.
To the north and east were several prominent peaks and ranges of trap hills clothed with short herbage; to the highest of the former, a single conical peak, with deeply serrated sides, was given the name of Mount James, after my friend and fellow-traveller, Mr. James Roe; while two lofty summits, far to the northward, were called Mount Samuel and Mount Phillips.
The principal feed was found near the banks of the rivers, the back country still yielding only a scanty supply of a red-coloured silky grass of little value except when quite fresh. A tree resembling the sycamore of the Murchison, but with the leaves arranged in triplets, and the seed pods in the form of a large bean, grows near the river and attains to two feet in diameter, with a height of forty feet; the wood is light and spongy, something resembling the Nuytsia floribunda, but not gummy. It is formed by the natives into shields, and near the coast into canoes. We also found on some of the rocky hills a tree with fruit and flowers resembling a small fig, the leaves like a lemon, but yielding an acrid milky juice.
Several new species of crested quail and dark-brown pigeons were first observed here; the beautiful small doves, common in the northern districts, were also seen by thousands; gallinule and the elegant Ochaphaps plumafera (crested pigeon of the marshes) were also very numerous.
SURPRISE A NATIVE CAMP.
8th May.
Pursuing our course down the left bank, we crossed several stream-beds which drain the large tract of country between this and the Murchison. The Gascoyne here divides into several broad sandy channels, sometimes as much as a mile apart. Towards evening we came upon a native encampment; few of the men appeared to have returned from their day's hunting, but we observed upwards of thirty women and children, who ran into the bed of the river to hide, some of the women immersing their children completely under water occasionally to prevent their cry of alarm attracting our attention. Although we had before met with and spoken to several natives, this was the first opportunity we had of examining into their domestic economy. Around their fires, of which there were many, were ranged a number of wooden scoops capable of holding from two to four quarts; these contained a variety of seed and roots; the most plentiful was a species of grain like small plump drake, gathered from a grass much resembling wheat, which is very abundant on the alluvial flats, and a root resembling an onion not larger than a pistol bullet, a few rats, which are very numerous in the grassy flats, and a small variety of samphire like a Hottentot fig, formed the principal portion of their evening's repast.
The few weapons left by the men consisted of heavy spears, with from three to eighteen barbs cut out of the solid wood, the shaft from ten to twelve feet in length, large shields resembling those in use by the natives at Champion Bay, made from the sycamore, and few skins of the red kangaroo, formed their entire camp equipment.