The Depot Glen
This ruinous detention paralyzed the efforts and enervated the strength of the expedition, by constitutionally affecting both the men and animals, and depriving them of the elasticity and energy with which they commenced their labours. It was not however until after we had run down every creek in our neighbourhood, and had traversed the country in every direction, that the truth flashed across my mind, and it became evident to me, that we were locked up in the desolate and heated region, into which we had penetrated, as effectually as if we had wintered at the Pole. It was long indeed ere I could bring myself to believe that so great a misfortune had overtaken us, but so it was. Providence had, in its allwise purposes, guided us to the only spot, in that wide-spread desert, where our wants could have been permanently supplied, but had there stayed our further progress into a region that almost appears to be forbidden ground. The immediate effect, however, of our arrival at the Depot, was to relieve my mind from anxiety as to the safety of the party. There was now no fear of our encountering difficulties, and perhaps perishing from the want of that life-sustaining element, without which our efforts would have been unavailing, for independently of the beautiful sheet of water, on the banks of which the camp was established, there was a small lagoon to the S.E. of us, and around it there was a good deal of feed, besides numerous water-holes in the rocky gully. The creek was marked by a line of gum-trees, from the mouth of the glen to its junction with the main branch, in which, excepting in isolated spots, water was no longer to be found. The Red Hill (afterwards called Mount Poole), bore N.N.W. from us, distant 3 1/2 miles; between us and it there were undulating plains, covered with stones or salsolaceous herbage, excepting in the hollows, wherein there was a little grass. Behind us were level stony plains, with small sandy undulations, bounded by brush, over which the Black Hill, bearing S.S.E. from the Red Hill, was visible, distant 10 miles. To the eastward the country was, as I have described it, hilly. Westward at a quarter of a mile the low range, through which Depot Creek forces itself, shut out from our view the extensive plains on which it rises. This range extended longitudinally nearly north and south, but was nowhere more than a mile and a half in breadth. The geological formation of the range was slate, traversed by veins of quartz, its interstices being filled with magnesian limestone. Steep precipices and broken rugged gullies alternated on either side of this creek, and in its bed there were large slabs of beautiful slate. The precipices shewed the lateral formation with the rock split into the finest laminae, terminating in sharp points. But neither on the ranges or on the plains behind the camp was there any feed for the cattle, neither were the banks of the creek or its neighbourhood to be put in comparison with Flood's Creek in this respect, for around it there was an abundance as well as a variety of herbage. Still the vegetation on the Depot Creek was vigorous, and different kinds of seeds were to be procured. I would dwell on this fact the more forcibly, because I shall, at a future stage of this journey, have to remark on the state of the vegetation at this very spot, that is to say, when the expedition was on its return from the interior at the close of the year.
A few days after we had settled ourselves at the Depot, Mr. Browne had a serious attack of illness, that might have proved fatal; but it pleased God to restore him to health and reserve him for future usefulness. At this time, too, the men generally complained of rheumatism, and I suspected that I was not myself altogether free from that depressing complaint, since I had violent pains in my hip joints; but I attributed them to my having constantly slept on the hard ground, and frequently in the bed of some creek or other. It eventually proved, however, that I had been attacked by a more fearful malady than rheumatism in its worst stage.
There being no immediate prospect of our removal, I determined to complete the charts up to thepoint to which we had penetrated. I therefore sent Mr. Stuart, on the 2nd February, to sketch in the ranges to the eastward, and connect them with the hills I had lately crossed over. I directed Lewis, who had been in the survey, to assist Mr. Stuart, and sent Flood with them to trace down the creek I had noticed from several of our stations on the northern ranges, as passing through a gap in the hills to the eastward. They returned to the camp on the 4th, Mr. Stuart having been very diligent in his work. Flood had also obeyed my orders; but could find no water in the lower branches of the creek, although there was so much in it nearer the hills. The party had fallen in with a small tribe of natives, for whom Flood had shot an emu. Mr. Stuart informed me that they were very communicative; but their language was unknown to him. He understood from them that they intended to visit the camp in a couple of days; but as I had some doubts on this head, and was anxious to establish a communication, and induce them to return with me to the camp, I rode on the 5th with Mr. Browne across the plain, at the farther extremity of which they were encamped near a little muddy puddle. Flood and Joseph in the light cart accompanied us.
Great as the heat had been, it appeared rather to increase than diminish. The wind constantly blew from the E.S.E. in the morning, with the deep purple tint to the west I have already had occasion to notice. It then went round with the sun, and blew heavily at noon; but gradually subsided to a calm at sunset, and settled in the west, the same deep tint being then visible above the eastern horizon which in the morning had been seen in the west. The thermometer ranged from 100 degrees to 117 degrees in the shade at 3 p.m.; the barometer from 29.300 degrees to 29.100 degrees. Water boiled at 211 degrees and a fraction; but there was no dew point. I should have stated, that both whilst Mr. Browne and I were in the hills and at the camp, there was thunder and rain on the 23rd, 24th, and 25th, but the showers were too light even to lay the dust, and had no effect whatever on the temperature.
The morning we started to pay a visit to the blacks was more than usually oppressive even at daybreak, and about 9 it blew a hot wind from the N.E. As we rode across the stony plain lying between us and the hills, the heated and parching blasts that came upon us were more than we could bear. We were in the centre of the plain, when Mr. Browne drew my attention to a number of small black specks in the upper air. These spots increasing momentarily in size, were evidently approaching us rapidly. In an incredibly short time we were surrounded by several hundreds of the common kite, stooping down to within a few feet of us, and then turning away, after having eyed us steadily. Several approached us so closely, that they threw themselves back to avoid contact, opening their beaks and spreading out their talons. The long flight of these birds, reaching from the ground into the heavens, put me strongly in mind of one of Martin's beautiful designs, in which he produces the effect of distance by a multitude of objects gradually vanishing from the view. Whatever the reader may think, these birds had a most formidable aspect, and were too numerous for us to have overpowered, if they had really attacked us. That they came down to see what unusual object was wandering across the lonely deserts over which they soar, in the hope of prey, there can be no doubt; but seeing that we were likely to prove formidable antagonists, they wheeled from us in extensive sweeps, and were soon lost to view in the lofty region from whence they had descended.
When we reached the place where the natives had been, we were disappointed in not finding them. They had, however, covered up their fires and left their nets, as if with the intention of returning. Nevertheless we missed them, and reached the tents late in the evening, after a ride of 40 miles.
After my return from this excursion, I was busily employed filling-in the charts; but the ink in our pens dried so rapidly, that we were obliged to have an underground room constructed to work in, and it proved of infinite service and comfort, insomuch that the air in it was generally from 7 degrees to 8 degrees cooler than that of the outer air.
