On the morning of the 24th, about 5 a.m., I was roused from sleep by an alarm in the camp, and heard a roaring noise as of a heavy wind in that direction. Hastily throwing on my clothes, I rushed out, and was surprised to see Jones's dray on fire; the tarpaulin was in a blaze, and caused the noise I have mentioned. As this dray was apart from the others, and at a distance from any fire, I was at a loss to account for the accident; but it appeared that Jones had placed a piece of lighted cowdung under the dray the evening before, to drive off the mosquitos, which must have lodged in the tarpaulin and set it on fire. Two bags of flour were damaged, and the outside of the medicine chest was a good deal scorched, but no other injury done. The tarpaulin was wholly consumed, and Jones lost the greater part of his clothes, a circumstance I should not have regretted if he had been in a situation to replace them.
Flood returned on the 25th, at 2 p.m., having found water in several places, but none of a permanent kind like that in the creek. He had fallen on a small and shallow lagoon, and had seen a tribe of natives, who ran away at his approach, although he tried to invite them to remain.
About an hour before sunset Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne returned, to the great relief of my mind; for, with every confidence in their prudence, I could not help being anxious in such a situation as that in which I was placed, my only companions having then been many days absent. They had nearly reached the 28th parallel, and had discovered an abundance of water, but Mr. Poole was more sanguine than Mr. Browne of its permanency.
The first water they found at the commencement of their journey, was at a distance of 40 miles and upwards, and as I felt assured we should have great difficulty in taking the cattle so far without any, I sent Flood, on the 26th, to try if he could find some intermediate pool at which I could stop. Mr. Poole informed me that the ranges still continued to the north, but that they were changed in character, and he thought they would altogether terminate ere long.
He also reported to me that the day he left the camp he pursued a N.N.E. course, skirting an acacia scrub, and that arriving at a small puddle of water at 12 miles, he halted. That on the 12th he started at six, and after travelling about three miles first got a view of distant ranges to the north; he soon afterwards entered an acacia scrub, and at 15 miles crossed a creek, the course of which was to the S.W., but there was no water in it. At five the party reached the hills, the acacia scrub continuing to within a mile of them; and as the day had been exceedingly warm, Mr. Poole encamped in a little gully. He then walked with Mr. Browne to the top of the nearest hill, and from it observed two lines of gum-trees in the plains below them to the north, which gave them hopes of finding water in the morning, as they were without any. Saw two detached ranges bearing 320 degrees and 329 degrees respectively, and a distant flat-topped hill, bearing 112 degrees from them, the country appearing to be open to the north.
On the 13th, the party pushed on at an early hour for the gum-trees, but found no water. Observed numerous flights of pigeons going to the N.W. Traced the creek down for two miles, when they arrived at a place where the natives had been digging for water; here Mr. Poole left Mr. Browne and went further down the creek, when he succeeded in his search; but finding, on his return, that Mr. Browne and Mack had cleared out the well and got a small supply of water, with which they had relieved the horses and prepared breakfast, he did not return to the water he had discovered, but proceeded to the next line of gum-trees where there was another creek, but without water in it; coming on a small quantity in its bed at two miles, however, they encamped. A meridian altitude of Aldebaran here gave their latitude 30 degrees 10 minutes 0 seconds S. On the following morning Mr. Poole started on a W.N.W. course for a large hill, from whence he was anxious to take bearings, and which he reached and ascended after a journey of 22 miles. From this hill, which he called the Magnetic Hill (Mount Arrowsmith), because on it the north point of the compass deviated to within 3 degrees of the south point, he saw high ranges to the north and north-east; a hill they had already ascended bore 157 degrees 30 minutes, and the flat-topped hill 118 degrees 30 minutes. From the Magnetic Hill, Mr. Poole went to the latter, and ascended the highest part of it. The range was rugged, and composed of indurated quartz, and there was a quantity of gypsum in round flat pieces scattered over the slopes of the hills. The country to the W. and W.N.W. appeared to be very barren. The range on which they were was perfectly flat at the top, and covered with the same vegetation as the plains below. From this point Mr. Poole went to the north, but at 12 miles changed his course to the N.E. for three miles, when he intersected a creek with gum-trees, and shortly afterwards found a large supply of permanent water. Their latitude at this point was 29 degrees 47 minutes S., and up to it no change for the better had taken place in the appearance of the country. On Monday, the 15th, Mr. Poole ascended several hills to take bearings before he moved on; he then proceeded up the creek to the north-west, and passed from fifteen to twenty large water-holes. At about three miles, Mr. Poole found himself on an open table land, on which the creek turned to the west. He, therefore, left it, and at two miles crossed a branch creek with water and grass. At 7 1/2 miles farther to the north crossed another creek, followed it for a mile, when it joined a larger one, the course of which was to the north-east. In this creek there were numerous large pools of water. Crossing it, Mr. Poole ascended a hill to take bearings, from which he descended to a third creek, where he stopped for the night. On the following morning he continued his journey to the north, being anxious to report to me the character of the ranges. At 12 miles over open plains he intersected a creek trending to the eastward, in which there was an abundant supply of water; but this creek differed from the others in having muddy water, and but little vegetation in its neighbourhood. Passed some native huts, and saw twenty wild turkeys. At 10 miles from this creek Mr. Poole struck another, the ranges being still 12 miles distant. The horses having travelled for the last 10 miles over barren stony plains, had lost their shoes, and were suffering greatly. Mr. Poole, therefore, stopped at this place, and on consulting with Mr. Browne, determined to return to the camp without delay. Accordingly on the following morning he rode to the hills with Mr. Browne, leaving Mack with the other horses to await his return, and at 10 a.m. ascended the range. The view from it was not at all encouraging. The hills appeared to trend to the N.E., and were all of them flat-topped and treeless. The country to the west and north-west was dark with scrub, and the whole region barren and desolate. After taking bearings, Mr. Poole descended, returned to the creek on which he had left Mack, and as I have already stated, reached the camp on the evening of the 25th.
It will be obvious to the reader that the great danger I had to apprehend was that of having my retreat cut off from the failure of water in my rear; or if I advanced without first of all exploring the country, of losing the greater number of my cattle. It may be said that my officers had now removed every difficulty; but notwithstanding that Mr. Poole was sanguine in his report of the probable permanency of the water he had found, I hesitated whether to advance or not; but considering that under all circumstances the water they had found would still be available for a considerable time, and that it would enable me to push still further to the north, I decided on moving forward at once; but the weather was at this time so terrifically hot, that I hardly dared move whilst it continued, more especially as we had so great a distance to travel without water. I kept the party in readiness, however, to move at a moment's notice. On the 27th we had thunder, but no rain fell, and the heat seemed rather to increase than to decrease. On the 28th, at 2 p.m., the wind suddenly flew round to the south, and it became cooler. In hopes that it would continue, I ordered the tents to be struck, and we left Flood's Creek at half-past 4. As soon as I had determined on moving, I directed Mr. Poole to lead on the party in the direction he thought it would be best to take, and mounting my horse, rode with Mr. Browne and Mr. Stuart towards the ranges, to take bearings from a hill I had intended to visit, but had been prevented from doing in consequence of the extreme heat of the weather. I did not, indeed, like leaving the neighbourhood without going to this hill. The distance, however, was greater than it appeared to be, and it was consequently late before we reached it; but once on the top we stood on the highest and last point of the Barrier Range; for although, as we shall learn, other ranges existed to the north, there was a broad interval of plain between us and them, nor were they visible from our position. We stood, as it were, in the centre of barrenness. I feel it impossible, indeed, to describe the scene, familiar as it was to me. The dark and broken line of the Barrier Range lay behind us to the south; eastward the horizon was bounded by the hills I had lately visited, and the only break in the otherwise monotonous colour of the landscape was caused by the plains we had crossed before entering the pine forest. From the south-west round to the east northwards, the whole face of the country was covered with a gloomy scrub that extended like a sea to the very horizon. To the north-west, at a great distance, we saw a long line of dust, and knowing it to be raised by the party, after having taken bearings and tried the point of boiling water, we descended to overtake it. In doing this we crossed several spurs, and found tolerably wide and grassy flats between them. Following one of these down we soon got on the open plains, and about half-past seven met Mr. Poole, who had left the party to go to a fire he had noticed to the eastward, which he thought was a signal from us that we had found water; but such had not been our good fortune.
I now halted the party until the moon should rise, and we threw ourselves on the ground to take a temporary repose, the evening being cool and agreeable. At 11 we again moved on, keeping a north course, under Mr. Poole's guidance, partly over stony plains, and partly over plains of better quality, having some little grass upon them, until 8 a.m. of the morning of the 29th, when we stopped for an hour. As day dawned, Mr. Poole had caught sight of the hill, as he thought, to the base of which he wished to lead the party, and under this impression we continued our northerly course at 9, until by degrees we entered a low brush, and from it got into a pine forest and amongst ridges of sand. Mr. Poole had crossed a similar country; but the sandy ridges had soon ceased, and in the hope that such would now be the case he pushed forward until it was too late to retreat, for the exertion had already been very great to the animals in so heated and inhospitable a desert. In vain did the men urge their bullocks over successive ridges of deep loose sand, the moment they had topped one there was another before them to ascend. Seeing that they were suffering from the heat, I desired the men to halt, and sending Mr. Poole and Mr. Stuart forward with the spare horses and sheep to relieve them as soon as possible, I remained with the drays, keeping Mr. Browne with me. We had not travelled more than half a mile, on resuming our journey, when we arrived at a dry salt lagoon, at which the sheep had stopped. I here determined on leaving two of the drays, in the hope that by putting an additional team into each of the others we should get on, although before this we had discovered that Mr. Poole had mistaken his object, and had inadvertently led us into the thickest of the pinery. The drivers, however, advanced but slowly with the additional strength I had given them, and it was clear they would never get out of their difficulties, unless some other plan were adopted. I therefore again stopped the teams, and sent Mr. Browne to the eastward to ascertain how far the ridges extended in that direction, since Mr. Poole's track appeared to be leading deeper into them. On his return he informed me that the ridges ceased at about a mile and a quarter; in consequence of which I turned to the north-east, but the bullocks were now completely worn out and refused to pull. To save them, therefore, it became necessary to unyoke and to drive them to water, and as Mr. Browne felt satisfied he could lead the way to the creek, I adopted that plan, and telling the men with the sheep to follow on our tracks, we left the drays, at 6 p.m., taking two of the men only with us, and clearing the sand ridges at dusk, entered upon and traversed open plains. We then stopped to rest the cattle until the moon should rise, and laid down close to them; but although we kept watch, they had well nigh escaped us in search for water. At half-past ten we again moved on, and at midnight reached a low brush, in which one of the bullocks fell, and I was obliged to leave him. About two hours afterwards another fell, but these were the total of our casualties. We reached the creek at 3 in the morning of the 30th, and rode to a fire on its banks, where we found Davenport and Joseph with the cart; they had separated from Mr. Poole, who was then encamped about a quarter of a mile to the westward of them, although Davenport did not know where he was, nor had he found water. Our situation would have been exceedingly perplexing, if Mr. Browne, who had led me with great precision to this point, had not assured me that he recognised the ground, and that as soon as day dawned he would take me to the water. Just at this moment we saw another fire to the eastward, to which I sent Morgan on horseback, who returned with Mr. Poole, when we were enabled to give the poor animals the relief they so much required.
Having thus secured the horses and bullocks, I turned my attention to the men in the forest, with regard to whom I had no occasion to feel any alarm, as I had left ten gallons of water for their use, and strictly cautioned them not to be improvident with it. However, as soon as he had had a little rest, I sent Morgan with a spare horse for their empty casks to replenish them. At 2 o'clock I sent Flood with four gallons of water to the nearest bullock that had fallen. About 11 Brock came up with the sheep all safe and well. Flood returned at 7, with information that the bullock was dead, but night closed in without our seeing anything of Morgan, and having nothing to eat we looked out rather anxiously for him. The water on which we rested was at some little distance from the creek, in a long narrow lagoon, but we had scarcely any shade from the intense heat of the sun, the water being muddy, thick, and full of frogs and crabs. I have observed upon the extreme and increasing heat that prevailed at this time. Notwithstanding this, however, the night was so bitterly cold that we were glad to put on anything to keep us warm. Our situation may in some measure account for this extreme variation of temperature, as we were in the bed of the creek which might yet have been damp, as its surface had only just dried up; perhaps also from exposure to such heat during the day we were more susceptible of the least change. Be that as it may, certain it is that as morning dawned on this occasion, when the thermometer stood at 67 degrees, we crept nearer to our fires for warmth, and in less than six hours afterwards were in a temperature of 104 degrees.
As we passed through the acacia scrub, we observed that the natives had lately been engaged collecting the seed. The boughs of the trees were all broken down, and there were numerous places where they had thrashed out the seed, and heaped up the pods. These poor people must indeed be driven to extremity if forced to subsist on such food, as its taste is so disagreeable that one would hardly think their palates could ever be reconciled to it. Natives had evidently been in our neighbourhood very lately, but we saw none.