That the natives of the interior have made frequent attacks on the stations of the settlers I have no doubt; very likely, in some instances, they have done so without any direct provocation, but we must not forget their position or the consequences of the extension of boundaries of location to the aborigines themselves. The more ground our flocks and herds occupy, the more circumscribed become the haunts of the savage. Not only is this the inevitable consequence, but he sees the intruder running down his game with dogs of unequalled strength and swiftness, and deplores the destruction of his means of subsistence. The cattle tread down the herbs which at one season of the year constituted his food. The gun, with its sharp report, drives the wild fowl from the creeks, and the unhappy aborigine is driven to despair. He has no country on which to fall back. The next tribe will not permit him to occupy their territory. In such a state what is he to do? Is it a matter of surprise that in the confidence of numbers he should seek to drive those who have intruded on him back again, and endeavour to recover possession of his lost domain? It might be that the parties concerned were not conscious of the injury they were inflicting, but even that fact would not lessen the fancied right of the native to repossess himself of his lost territory. Yet on the other hand we cannot condemn resistance on the part of the white man; for it would be unjust to overlook the fearful position in which they are placed, and the terrible appearance of a party of savages working themselves up to the perpetration of indiscriminate slaughter. No doubt many parties have gone to take up stations in the interior, with the honest intention of keeping on good terms with the natives, and who in accordance with such resolution have treated them with hospitality and consideration; but, it unfortunately happens that a prolonged intercourse with the Europeans weakens and at length destroys those feelings of awe and uncertainty with which they were at first regarded. The natives find that they are men like themselves, and that their intrusion is an injury, and they perhaps become the aggressors in provoking hostilities. In such a case resistance becomes a matter of personal defence, and however much such collisions may be regretted, the parties concerned can hardly be brought to account; but, it more frequently happens, that the men who are sent to form out-stations beyond the boundaries of location, are men of bold and unscrupulous dispositions, used to crime, accustomed to danger, and reckless as to whether they quarrel, or keep on terms with the natives who visit them. Thrown to such a distance in the wild, in some measure out of the pale of the law, without any of the opposite sex to restrain their passions, the encouragement these men give to their sable friends, is only for the gratification of their passions. The seizure of some of their women, and the refusal to give them up, provokes hostility and rouses resentment, but those who scruple not at the commission of one act of violence, most assuredly will not hesitate at another. Such cases are gene rally marked by some circumstances that betray its character, and naturally rouse the indignation of the Government. If the only consequence was the punishment of the guilty, we should rejoice in such retributive justice; but, unfortunately and too frequently, it happens, that the station belongs to a stockholder, who, both from feelings of interest and humanity, has treated the natives with every consideration, and discountenanced any ill-treatment of them on the part of his servants, but whose property is nevertheless sacrificed by their misconduct.
I have been unintentionally led into this subject, in the course of my remarks on the policy of Captain Grey, in establishing the post at Moorundi. The consequences have been equally beneficial to the settlers and aborigines. The eastern out-stations of the province have been unmolested, and parties with stock have passed down the Murray in perfect safety. If any act of violence or robbery has been committed by the natives, the perpetrators have been delivered up by the natives themselves, who have learnt that it is their interest to refrain from such acts; and instead of the Murray being the scene of conflict and slaughter, its whole line is now occupied by stock-stations, and tranquillity everywhere prevails.
About seventy {FIFTEEN in published text} miles below Moorundi is Wellington, where a ferry has been established across the Murray, that township being on the direct road from Adelaide to Mount Gambier, and Rivoli Bay. A little below Wellington, Lake Victoria receives the waters of the Murray, which eventually mingle with those of the ocean, through the sea mouth.
The country immediately to the eastward of the Murray affords, in some places, a scanty supply of grass for sheep, but, generally speaking, it is similar in its soil and rock formation, and consequently in its productions to the scrubby country to the westward. The line of granite I have mentioned, in the former part of my work, as traversing or crossing the Murray below Wellington, continues through the scrub, large blocks being frequent amongst the brushes on a somewhat lower level than the tertiary fossil limestone in its neighbourhood. Round these blocks of granite the soil is considerably better, and there is a coating of grass upon it, as far as the ground consists of the decomposed rock.
About sixty miles to the E.S.E. of Wellington is the Tatiara country, once celebrated for the ferocity and cannibalism of its inhabitants, but now occupied by the settlers, who have of late crossed the Murray in considerable numbers to form stations there. The distance from Wellington to the district of Mount Gambier, said to be the fairest portion of South Australia, whether as regards its climate or its soil, is more than 200 miles. The first portion of the road, to almost the above distance, is through a perfect desert, in which, excepting during the rainy season, water is scarcely to be found, so that the journey is not performed without its privation. After passing Lake Albert the traveller has to journey at no great distance from the Coorong over a low country, once covered by the waters of the ocean, the noise of whose billows he hears through the silence of the night. The first elevation he reaches is a continuation of the great fossil bed, through which the volcanic hills, where he will ultimately arrive, have been forced up. Mount Gambier, the principal of these, is about 40 miles from the Glenelg, and 50 from Rivoli Bay. The country from either of these points is low for many miles, but well grassed, of the richest soil, and in many places abundantly timbered. Mount Gambier is scarcely visible until you almost reach its base--nor even then is its outward appearance different from other hills. On reaching its summit, however, you find youself on the brink of a crater, standing indeed on a precipice, with a small sheet of water of about half-a-mile in circumference, two hundred feet below you; the water of which is as blue as indigo, and seems to be very deep; no bottom indeed has been found at 50 fathoms. The ground round the base of Mount Gambier is very open, and you may ride your horse along it unchecked for many miles. At the lower parts, and at some distance from it, the ground is moist, and many caverns have been found in which water of the very purest kind exists, no doubt deposited in the natural reservoirs by percolation from the higher ground. The whole formation of the district, these capacious caverns, and the numerous and extensive tea-tree swamps along the coast, plainly demonstrate that they are supplied by gradual filtration, or find their way through the interstices, or cells of the lava to the lower levels.
It is generally admitted that the greater part of the land in the neighbourhood of Mount Gambier is equal to the richest soil, whether of Van Diemen's Land or of Port Phillip, the general character indeed of this district, and the fact of its being so much farther to the south than Adelaide, its perpetual verdure and moister climate would lead to the supposition that it is capable of producing grain of the very finest quality, and there can, I think, be but little doubt that it will rival the sister colonies in its agricultural productions, and considering the nature of the soil is similar to that round the volcanic peaks in the Mediterranean, it will also produce wine of a superior description. Settlers both from the province of South Australia and neighbouring colonies have vied with each other in securing stations in this fertile, but remote district, and it would appear from the number of allotments that have been purchased in the townships which have been established on the coast that settlers are fast flocking to it.
From what has been stated it would seem that the district of Mount Gambier is adapted rather for agricultural than pastoral pursuits, and that it is consequently favourable for occupation by a rural population. Tea-tree swamps (melaleuca) are a feature, I believe, peculiar to South Australia, and generally indicate the presence of springs, and always of moisture. The soil is of the very richest quality, and there is, perhaps, no ground in the world that is more suitable for gardens, and as these swamps are both numerous and extensive in the lower country, behind Rivoli and Guichen Bays, this portion of the province promises equally fair for the growth of those European fruits which are less advantageously cultivated in the more northern parts of the province.
Returning to Adelaide, and proceeding from thence to the eastward, along the great eastern or Mount Barker line, we cross, in the first instance, the remaining portion of the plains lying between the city and the hills, to the base of which the distance is about three miles, the whole is laid out in farms, and is extensively and carefully cultivated. As you approach the hills, the country becomes lightly wooded and undulating, affording numerous sites for villas, on which many have already been erected, both by settlers and the more opulent tradesmen. Individuals indeed, residing in England, can form but a faint idea of the comforts and conveniences they enjoy, at such a distance from their native country. Being at sufficient elevation to catch the sea breeze, which passes over the plains of Adelaide, without being felt, they have almost the advantage of living near the sea coast, and the cool winds that sweep down the valleys behind them, and constitute the land breeze, ensure to them cool and refreshing evenings, when those dwelling at a lower elevation are oppressed by heat. On the first rise of the mountains is the Glen Osmond Lead Mine, which will be noticed hereafter. The Mount Barker district being more numerously settled than most other parts of the province, and being one of its most important and fertile districts, more labour has been expended on the road leading into it, than on any other in the colony. From the level of the Glen Osmond Mine, it winds up a romantic valley, with steep hills of rounded form, generally covered with grass, and studded lightly with trees on either side, nor is it, until you attain the summit of the Mount Lofty range, that any change takes place in the character of the hills or the vegetation, you then find yourself travelling through a dense forest of stringy barks, the finest of which have been levelled to the ground, with the axe, for the purpose of being sawn into planks for building, or split into rails for fencing. From Crafer's Inn, situated under the peak of Mount Lofty, the road to Mount Barker passes through a barren country for some miles, and crosses several steep valleys, in the centre of which there are rippling streams; the summit of the ranges still continues to be thickly wooded, the ground underneath being covered with shrubs and flowers of numberless kinds and varied beauty. In illustration of this, I may observe, that the first time I crossed the Mount Lofty range, I amused myself pulling the different kinds of flowers as I rode along, and on counting them when I reached Adelaide for the purpose of arranging them in a book, found that I had no less than ninety-three varieties. The majority of these, however, consisted of papilionaceous plants, and several beautiful varieties of Orchideae. On descending to a lower level, after crossing the Onkaparinga, the scenery and the country at once change, you find yourself upon rich alluvial flats, flanked by barren rocky hills, the air during the spring being perfumed by the scent of the Tetratheca, a beautiful hill flower, at that time in splendid blossom, and growing in profusion on the tops of the hills, mingled with the Chyranthera, with its light blue blossoms; both these plants it has always appeared, are well adapted for the edges of borders, but there are not many plants in Australia that would be fit for such a purpose.
It does not appear necessary, in a work like this, to trouble the reader with an account of every village or of every valley in the districts through which I lead him; my object is to give a general and faithful description of the country only, reserving the power of drawing attention to any thing I may deem worthy of notice. Taking the district of Mount Barker therefore in its full range, I would observe, that it is one of the finest agricultural districts in the province. It abounds in very many beautiful alluvial valleys, which, when I first crossed, had grass that rose above the horses middles as they walked through it, and looked luxuriant beyond description. These valleys are limited both in length and breadth, but are level and clear; their soil is a rich alluvial deposit, and the plough can be driven from one end to the other without meeting a single obstacle to check its progress. Independently of these valleys, there are other portions of good grazing land in the Mount Barker district, but there are, nevertheless, very many stony ranges that are entirely useless even to stock. The Mount Barker district may be said to extend from the village of Nairne to Strathalbyn, on the River Angas, the latter place being 15 miles from the shores of Lake Victoria. Within the range of this district, there are also the villages of Hahansdorf and Macclesfield, the former being a German village, at no great distance from Mount Barker. Immediately to the north of the village of Nairne is Mount Torrens, the river of that name has several branches to the north-east of it as high up as Mount Gould. The first of the Company's special surveys, and perhaps some of the finest soil in the province is in this locality. The surveys on the sources and tributaries of the Torrens are splendid properties, and the Company may well consider them as amongst the most valuable of its acquisitions; beyond the heads of the Torrens the country is more hilly and less available. There are, nevertheless, isolated spots sufficiently large for the most comfortable homesteads. From this point, a west-south-west course will soon lead the traveller into the plains of Adelaide, and at less than 10 miles after entering upon them, he will again find himself in the metropolis. Again departing from it for the southern parts of the province, he will keep the Mount Lofty range upon his left, and will really find some difficulty in passing the numberless fences which now enclose the plains. The land indeed in this line of road is more fenced than in any other direction, a reason for this may be that the road runs nearer the base of the hills, and the land is consequently better than that on the lower ground. Many very excellent farms are to be found on the banks of the Sturt and the Onkaparinga, on the latter of which the village of Noorlunga has been established, at the point where the road crosses it. The Sturt has a tortuous course, somewhat to the northward of west, and falls into the gulf at Glenelg, after spreading over the flats behind the sand-hills at that place. The direction of the road is parallel to that of the ranges, or nearly south-south-west as far as the village of Noorlunga, when it turns more to the eastward of south, for Willunga, which is 28 miles distant from Adelaide. The banks of the Onkaparinga, above the crossing place, are extremely inaccessible, insomuch that stock can hardly be driven down to water for many miles above that point. The hills however are rounded in form, grassy, and clear of trees, consequently well adapted for grazing purposes. It was at Noorlunga, which is not more than two miles from the gulf, and can be approached in boats, as high as the bridge there, that Captain Barker first landed on the South Australian shore. The country between it and Willunga is generally good, portions of it are sandy and scrubby, but Morphett's Vale is a rich and extensive piece of land, and I can well remember before it was settled seeing several large stacks of hay that had been cut, as it then lay in a state of nature. Willunga is close under the foot of the hills, which here, trending to the south-south-west, meet the coast line extremity of the Southern Aldinga plains. Close to this point is a hill, called Mount Terrible, almost of a conical shape, over the very summit of this, in the early stages of the colony, the road led to Encounter Bay; and I shall not forget the surprise I experienced, when going to that place, on finding I could not by any possibility avoid this formidable obstacle. On the other side of Mount Terrible the country is very scrubby for some miles, until, all at once, you burst upon the narrow, but beautiful valley of Mypunga. This beautiful valley, which had scarcely been trodden by the European when I first encamped upon it, was then covered with Orchideous plants of every colour, amidst a profusion of the richest vegetation. A sweet rippling stream passed within five yards of my tent-door, and found its way to the Gulf about a mile below me to the west. It was on the occasion of my going to the sea mouth of the Murray, that I first stopped at this spot. Amongst the boat's crew I had brought with me from Adelaide a young lad, of not more than twenty-one, who had, for some weeks before, been leading a very hard life. At Mypunga he was seized with delirium tremens, and became so exceedingly outrageous, that I was obliged to have his feet and hands tied. In the morning he was still as frantic as ever, but the policeman, under whose charge I had placed him, having imprudently loosened the cord from his ankles, he suddenly started upon his feet, and gaining the scrub, through which we had descended into the valley, with incredible swiftness, secreted himself amongst it. Nor could we, by the utmost efforts during that and the succeeding day, discover his hiding place. I was accompanied by a man of the name of Foley, a bushranger of great notoriety, who had been captured by the Adelaide police, and was sent with my party in the hope that his knowledge of the coast would be of use to me, but neither could he discover the unfortunate runaway, who, there is no doubt, subsequently perished. Beyond Mypunga, to the south, are the valleys of Yankalilla and Rapid Bay, but very little, if in any respect inferior to the first mentioned place. The country between them is, however, extremely hilly, and contains some beautifully romantic spots of ground. The rock formation of this part of the ranges is very diversified; the upper part of Rapid valley is a fine grey limestone; a little to the southward veins both of copper and lead have been discovered, and I have good reason for supposing that quicksilver will one day or other be found in this part of the province. At Willunga there is a small stream, which issues from a valley close behind the township, and appears in former times to have laid many hundred acres of the flats below under water. Their soil is composed of the very richest alluvial deposit, and has produced some of the finest crops of wheat in the province. Aldinga plains lie to the south-west of Willunga, and are sufficiently extensive to feed numerous sheep, but unavailable in consequence of the deficiency of water upon them, and are an instance of a large tract of land lying in an unprofitable state, which might, with little trouble and expense, by sinking wells in different parts, be rendered extremely valuable. On ascending the hills above Willunga, in following up the southern line of road to Encounter Bay, it leads for several miles through a stringy-bark forest, and brings the traveller upon the great sandy basin, between Willunga and Currency Creek. This gloomy and sterile feature bears a strong contrast to the rich and fertile valleys I have described, and is really a most remarkable formation in the geology of the province. At an elevation of between 600 and 700 feet this basin is surrounded on all sides by rugged stony hills, excepting to the south and south-east, in which direc tion it falls into the valley of the Hindmarsh and Currency Creek respectively. Mount Magnificent, Mount Compass, and Mount Jagged, rise in isolated groups in different parts of the basin, the soil of which is pure sand, its surface is undulating, and in many parts covered with stunted banksias, through which it is difficult to force one's way in riding along. The Finniss rises behind Mount Magnificent, and is joined by a smaller branch from Mount Compass, as it flows from the eastward. At about 25 miles from Willunga the traveller descends into the valley of Currency Creek, and finds the change from the barren tract over which he has been riding as sudden as when he entered upon it from the rich flats of Willunga. The valley of Currency Creek is not, however, the same as those I have already described in other parts of the colony; it is prettily wooded and grassy, but continues narrow for some distance after you have entered it; a small running stream, with a rocky bed, occupying the centre of the valley, which ultimately escapes from the hills by a kind of gorge, and discharges itself into an arm of the Goolwa. The extent of good land in Currency Creek is not very great, and is bounded both to the north and south by barren scrub. Due south, at the distance from 15 to 18 miles, is Encounter Bay, the country intervening between the two points to the shores of the Goolwa is very level, the soil is light but rich, and there appeared to me to be many thousand acres that were adapted for agricultural purposes, better adapted indeed than the richer soils. Whether that view be correct or not, the valleys of the Inman and Hindmarsh immediately behind Encounter Bay would fully make up for the want of agricultural land in this part of the province. Hindmarsh valley is not of any great extent, but the soil is good, and its scenery in my humble opinion surpasses any other I remember in South Australia. I shall never, indeed, forget the beautiful effect of sunset, on a fine bold mountain at the head of it, called the Black Hill. The glowing orb was fast descending behind it to the west, and the Black Hill was cast into deep shade, whilst the sun's rays shooting down two valleys on either side gave the grass the appearance of young wheat. The extent of arable land in the valley of the Inman is very considerable, but in point of scenery bears no comparison with the first. I do not know whether I have made it sufficiently clear that there is a high range at the back of the coast hereabouts. If not, I would observe that it runs uninterruptedly from Mount Lofty to Cape Jarvis. Opposite to Encounter Bay it occupies nearly the centre of the promontory, and consequently forms a division of the eastern and western waters, there being a considerable breadth of barren stringy-bark forest between the heads of the opposite valleys, here as on the higher parts of the ranges near Mount Lofty, from the ascent of the great eastern road to the valley of the Onkerparinga.
It is a remarkable fact, but one that I believe I have already adverted to, that the farther north, towards the valley of the Wakefield, the more denuded of timber the country becomes, until at last not a tree of any kind can be seen. These extensive and open downs are, nevertheless, well grassed, and covered with a profusion of orchideous plants. Whether, however, there is any salt present in the soil, to check the growth of the trees, it is impossible to say. Undoubtedly many of the ponds in the Wakefield, as well as other parts of the province are brackish, but the same denuded state of the country exists not any where else. These districts are far too valuable to be overlooked, and are therefore extensively occupied by cattle and sheep. My most worthy friend, Mr. Charles Campbell, and my companion Mr. John Browne, and his brother, both occupy the most distant stations to the north. Mr. Campbell has one of the finest cattle runs in the province, and my comrade, I believe, is perfectly satisfied with his run. The condition of their cattle and sheep would at all events lead to the conclusion, that neither suffer from the nature of the water they drink or the pasture on which they feed.