It being the hour of sunset when we reached the well, the trees were crowded with birds of all kinds coming for water, and the reader may judge of the straits to which they were driven, when he learns that they dived down into so dark a chamber to procure the life-sustaining element it contained. The wildest birds of the forest were here obliged to yield to the wants of nature at any risk, but notwithstanding, they were exceedingly wary; and we shot only a few cockatoos. The fact of there being so large a well at this point, (a work that must have required the united labour of a powerful tribe to complete), assured us that this distant part of the interior, however useless and forbidding to civilized man, was not without inhabitants, but at the same time it plainly indicated, that water must be scarce. Indeed, considering that the birds of the forest had powers of flight to go where they would, I could not but regard it as a most unfavourable sign, that so many had collected here. Had this well contained a sufficiency of water, it would have been of the utmost value to us, but there was not more than enough for our wants, so that, although I should gladly have halted for a day, as our horses were both ill and tired, necessity obliged me to continue my journey, and accordingly on the 29th we resumed our progress into the interior on our original course. At about a mile we broke through the forest, and entered an open earthy plain, such as I believe man never before crossed. Subject to be laid under water by the creek we had just left, and to the effects of an almost vertical sun, its surface was absolutely so rent and torn by solar heat, that there was scarcely room for the horses to tread, and they kept constantly slipping their hind feet into chasms from eight to ten feet deep, into which the earth fell with a hollow rumbling sound, as if into a grave. The poor horse in the cart had a sad task, and it surprised me, how we all at length got safely over the plain, which was between five and six miles in breadth, but we managed it, and at that distance found ourselves on the banks of another creek, in the bed of which there was plenty of grass but no water. I was however exceedingly anxious to give the horses a day's rest; for several of them were seriously griped, and had either taken something that disagreed with them, or were beginning to suffer from constant work and irregularity of food. Mr. Browne too was unwell and Lewis complaining, so that it was advisable to indulge ourselves if possible. I therefore determined to trace the creek downwards, in the hope of finding water, and at a mile came upon a shallow pond where I gladly halted, for by this time several of the horses had swollen to a great size, and were evidently in much pain.
After arranging the little bivouac our attention was turned to the horses, and Mr. Browne found it necessary to bleed Flood's horse, to allay the inflammatory symptoms that were upon him. Still however he got worse, and no remedy we had in our power to apply seemed to do him good. The poor animal threw himself down violently on the ground, and bruised himself all over, so that we were obliged to fasten him up, but as there appeared to be no fear of his wandering, at sunset he was allowed to be loose. He remained near me for the greater part of the night, and was last seen close to where I was lying, but in the morning was no where to be found, and although we searched for a whole day, and made extensive sweeps to get on his track we never saw him more, and concluded he had died under some bush. This was the horse we recovered on the Murray, the same that had escaped from the government paddock in Adelaide. The other animals had in some measure recovered, and the additional day of rest they got while we were searching for Flood's horse, enabled me to resume my journey on the last day of August. Our course being one of 335 degrees to the west of north, or nearly N.N.W., and that of the sandy ridges being 340 degrees we necessarily crossed them at a very acute angle, and the horses suffered a good deal. In the afternoon we travelled over large bare plains, of a most difficult and distressing kind, the ground absolutely yawning underneath us, perfectly destitute of vegetation, and denuded of timber, excepting here and there, where a stunted box-tree was to be seen. While on the sand hills, the general covering of which was spinifex, there were a few hakea and low shrubs. On such ground as that whereon we were travelling, it would have been hopeless to look for water, nevertheless our search was constant, but we were obliged to halt without having found any, and to make ourselves as comfortable as we could. All the surface water left by the July rain had entirely disappeared, and what now remained even in the creeks was muddy and thick. It was indeed at the best most disgusting beverage, nor would boiling cause any great sediment. Every here and there, as we travelled along, we passed some holes scooped out by the natives to catch rain, and in some of these there was still a muddy residuum; we moreover observed that the inhabitants of this desert made these holes in places the best adapted to their purpose, where if the slightest shower occurred, the water falling on hard clay would necessarily run into them.
The circumstances under which we halted in the evening of the 31st of August were very embarrassing. It was evident that the country into which we were now advancing, was drier and more difficult than the country we had left behind. It was impossible, indeed, to hope that the animals would get on, if it should continue as we had found it thus far. There were numerous high ridges of sand to the westward, in addition to those on the plains, and so full of holes and chasms were the latter, that the horses would soon have been placed hors de combat, if they had continued to traverse them. Moreover, I could not but foresee that unless I used great precaution our retreat would be infallibly cut off. Whatever water we had passed, since the morning we commenced our journey over the Stony Desert, was not to be depended upon for more than four or five days, and although we might reckon with some certainty on the native well in the box-tree forest, the supply it had yielded was so very small that we could not expect to obtain more from it than would suffice ourselves and one or two of the horses. Taking all these matters into consideration, I determined on once more turning to the north for a day or two, in order that by keeping along the flats, close under the ridges, I might get firmer travelling for the cart, and in the expectation, that we should be more likely to find water in thus doing, than by crossing the succession of ridges. Accordingly, on the 1st of September, we started on a course of 6 degrees to the west of north, or a N. 1/2 W. course, that allowing for variation, being within 1 1/2 points of a due north course. On this we went up the flat where we had slept. By keeping close to the ridges we found, as I had anticipated, firmer ground, though the centre of the flat was still of the worst description. There were a few small box-trees to be seen as we passed along, but scarcely any minor vegetation. At about nine miles we were attracted by the green appearance of some low polygonum bushes, to which we went, and under them found two small puddles of water, that we might easily have passed. They must have been three feet deep after the rains, but were now barely five inches, and about the size of a loo table. However, we had no choice, and as the horse had suffered so much from the rickety motion of the cart, caused by the inequalities of the ground, and there was a silky kind of grass growing sparingly around, I stopped here for the rest of the day to effect necessary repairs. When, however, we came to examine the wheels, we found that so many of the spokes were shivered and had shrunk, that Lewis got on but slowly, renewing only such as were found absolutely useless; we were consequently detained at this point another day, but on the 3rd resumed our journey up the flat, and at two miles crossed a small sandy ridge into the opposite flat, and at five miles stopped at a second ridge of some height for Lewis and Joseph, who were a good way behind with the cart. On coming up, they informed us that they had fallen in with a tribe of natives, twelve in number, shortly after starting, and had remained some time with them. They were at a dirty puddle, such as we had left, and were at no great distance from our little bivouac. Joseph good-naturedly gave one of them his knife, but he could not understand a word they said.
After crossing the sand ridge, we kept on the edge of the flats, as I have said, for the sake of the horses. The ridges had now become very long, and varied in breadth from a few hundred yards to a mile. Box-trees were scattered over them, and, although generally bare, they were not altogether destitute of grass or herbage; the ridges of sand, on the contrary, still continued unbroken, and several were covered with spinifex; but on the whole the country appeared to be improving, and the fall of waters being decidedly somewhat to the eastward of south, or towards the Stony Desert, I entertained hopes that we had crossed the lowest part of the interior, and reached the southerly drainage. We were again fortunate in coming on another pond at 20 miles, where we halted, the country round about us wearing an improved appearance. Still our situation was very precarious, and we were risking a great deal by thus pushing forward, for although I call the hollows (in which we found the water) ponds, they were strictly speaking the dregs only of what had been such, and were thick, black, and muddy; but the present aspect of the country led us to hope for a favourable change, and on the morning of the 4th we still held our northerly course up the flat, on which we had travelled the greater part of the day before. As we advanced, it became more open and grassy, and at three miles we found a small supply of very tolerable water in the bed of a shallow watercourse. We had ridden about ten miles from the place where we had slept, and Mr. Browne and I were talking together, when Flood, who was some little distance a-head, held up his hat and called out to us. We were quite sure from this circumstance that he had seen something unusual, and on riding up were astonished at finding ourselves on the banks of a beautiful creek, the bed of which was full both of water and grass. The bank on our side was twenty feet high, and shelved too rapidly to admit of our taking the horses down, but the opposite bank was comparatively low.
Immediately within view were two large sheets of water around the margin of which reeds were growing, but nevertheless these ponds were exceedingly shallow. The direction of this fine watercourse was N. by W. and S. by E., coming from the first and falling to the last point, thus enabling us to trace it up without changing our own. A little above where we intersected its channel two small tributaries join it, or, I am more inclined to think, two small branches go from it; for we had apparently been rising as we came up the valley, but more especially as the direction from which they appeared to come (the S.W.), was almost opposite to the course of the creek itself. On proceeding upwards we observed that there were considerable intervals, along which the channel of the creek was dry; but where such was the case, it was abundantly covered with couch grass, of which the horses were exceedingly fond. We passed several sheets of water, however, some of which had a depth of two feet, although the greater number were shallow. After following it for ten miles, we halted with brighter prospects, and under more cheering circumstances than we had any right to anticipate; but, although the creek promised so well, the valley on either side of it was more than usually barren and scrubby, and was bounded in, as usual, by high ridges of sand, that still continued to head us in unbroken lines, and were the most prominent and prevailing feature of the interior; and although we were now within two degrees of the Tropics, our latitude at this point being 25 degrees 34 minutes 19 seconds, we had not as yet observed the slightest change in the vegetation, or anything to intimate our approach to a tropical country.
On the 5th we started on a course of 340 degrees, the upward course of the creek. At two miles it turned to the N. E, but soon came round again to N.W., and afterwards kept a general course of 10 degrees to the west of north. Its channel gradually contracted as we advanced, and the polygonum grew to the size of a very large bush upon its banks. At nine miles we arrived at a creek junction from the S.W. and traced it over grassy plains, on which some Bauhimia were growing, but finding that it took its rise in a kind of marsh occupying the centre of the plain into which it had led us, we turned away to the main creek. The country now became more open, and tertiary limestone shewed itself on the plains, and at a short distance from the creek a vein of milky quartz cropped out near a pretty sheet of water. As we proceeded upwards sandstone traversed its bed in several places; in some degree contracting its channel. A short time before we halted we passed a very large and long sheet of water, on which there were a good many wild fowl, so very shy, that although the brush grew close to the banks of the creek, so as to favour our creeping upon them, we could not shoot any.
Notwithstanding that the creek had thus changed its appearance from what it was where we first came upon it (its waters being muddy with less grass in its channel), we had no reason to suppose that it would disappoint our hopes; we therefore resumed our journey on the morning of the 6th, without any idea that we should meet with any check in the course of the day. As the immediate neighbourhood of this creek had become scrubby, we kept wide of it and travelled for 12 miles, on a bearing of 340, over flats destitute of all manner of vegetation, but thinly scattered over with the box, acacia and the Bauhimia. These flats were still bounded on either side by high sandy ridges, covered with spinifex, excepting on their summits, which were perfectly bare. The view from them both to the eastward and westward was, as it were, over a sandy sea; ridge after ridge succeeding each other as far as the eye could stretch the vision. To the north the flat appeared to terminate at a low sand hill bearing 335 degrees or N.N.W. 1/2 W.
When we again came on the creek, there was an abundance both of water and grass in its bed, but just above, the channel suddenly turned to the N.E. and in again keeping wide of it to avoid the inequalities of the ground, we arrived at the little sand hill that had previously bounded our view, and on ascending it, found that immediately beneath us, there was a clear small lake, covered with wild fowl. The colour of the water immediately betrayed its quality, and we found on tasting that it was too salt to drink. An extensive grassy flat extended to the westward of the lake, bounded by box-trees, and the channel of the creek still held its course to the N.E. I could not therefore but suppose, that this was a junction from that point, and therefore determined on passing to the opposite side, in anticipation that I should again come on our old friend amidst the trees. We accordingly crossed at the bottom of the little lake, and in so doing found amidst the other herbage two withered stalks of millet.
The grassy woodland continued for several miles, and as it was evidently subject to flood, we were in momentary expectation of seeing a denser mass of foliage before us, as indicating the course of the creek, but we suddenly debouched upon open plains, bounded by distant sand hills. There was not now a tree to be seen, but samphire bushes were mixed with the polygonum growing round about; as the changes however in this singular and anomalous region had been so sudden and instantaneous, I still held on my course, but the farther I advanced into the plains the more did the ground betray a salt formation.
We halted an hour after sunset, under a sand hill about 16 miles distant from the creek, without having succeeded in our search for water, for although we passed several muddy pools at which the birds still continued to drink they were too thick for our animals.