Observing the clouds collecting for so many days, I indulged hopes that we were near high lands, perhaps mountains; but from the loftiest spots we could see nothing but a level and dark horizon. Anxious to gain as correct a knowledge of the country as possible we had, in the course of the day, ascended a sandy ridge that was about a mile from the river. The view from the summit of this ridge promised to be more extensive than any we had of late been enabled to obtain; and as far as actual observation went,
we were not disappointed, although in every other particular, the landscape was one of the most unpromising description. To the S. and S.E., the country might be said to stretch away in one unbroken plain, for it was so generally covered with wood that every inequality was hidden from our observation. To the S.W. the river line was marked out by a succession of red cliffs, similar to those we had already passed. To the north, the interior was evidently depressed; it was overgrown with a low scrub, and seemed to be barren in the extreme. The elevations upon which we stood were similar to the sand-hills near the coast, and had not a blade of grass upon them. Yet, notwithstanding the sterility of the soil, the large white amarillis which grew in such profusion on the alluvial plains of the Macquarie, was also abundant here. But it had lost its dazzling whiteness, and had assumed a sickly yellow colour and its very appearance indicated that it was not in a congenial soil.
We passed two very considerable junctions, the one coming from the S.E., the other from the north. Both had currents in them, but the former was running much stronger than the latter. It falls into the Murray, almost opposite to the elevations I have been describing, and, if a judgment can be hazarded from its appearance at its embouchure, it must, in its higher branches, be a stream of considerable magnitude. Under this impression, I have called it the Lindesay, as a tribute of respect to my commanding officer, Colonel Patrick Lindesay of the 39th regt. I place it in east long. 140° 29´, and in lat. 33° 58´ south. Mr. Hume is
of opinion that this is the most southerly of the rivers crossed by him and Mr. Hovel in 1823; but, as I have already remarked, I apprehend that all the rivers those gentlemen crossed, had united in one main stream above the junction of the Morumbidgee, and I think it much more probable that this is a new river, and that it rises to the westward of Port Phillips, rather than in the S.E. angle of the coast.
We found the blacks who had deserted us with a tribe at the junction, but it was weak in point of numbers; as were also two other tribes or hordes to whom we were introduced in rapid succession. Taken collectively, they could not have amounted to 230 men, women, and children. The last of these hordes was exceedingly troublesome, and I really thought we should have been obliged to quarrel with them. Whether it was that we were getting impatient, or that our tempers were soured, I know not, but even M'Leay, whose partiality towards the natives was excessive at the commencement of our journey, now became weary of such constant communication as we had kept up with them. Their sameness of appearance, the disgusting diseases that raged among them, their abominable filth, the manner in which they pulled us about, and the impossibility of making them understand us, or of obtaining any information from them,—for if we could have succeeded in this point, we should have gladly borne every inconvenience,—all combined to estrange us from these people and to make their presence disagreeable. Yet there was an absolute necessity to keep up the chain of communication, to ensure our own safety,
setting aside every other consideration; but as I had been fortunate in my intercourse with the natives during the first expedition, so I hoped the present journey would terminate without the occurrence of any fatal collision between us. The natives, it is true, were generally quiet; but they crowded round us frequently without any regard to our remonstrances, laying hold of the boat to prevent our going away, and I sometimes thought that had any of them been sufficiently bold to set the example, many of the tribes would have attempted our capture. Indeed, in several instances, we were obliged to resort to blows ere we could disengage ourselves from the crowds around us, and whenever this occurred, it called forth the most sullen and ferocious scowl—such, probably, as would be the forerunner of hostility, and would preclude every hope of mercy at their hands. With each new tribe we were, in some measure, obliged to submit to an examination, and to be pulled about, and fingered all over. They generally measured our hands and feet with their own, counted our fingers, felt our faces, and besmeared our shirts all over with grease and dirt. This was no very agreeable ceremony, and a repetition of it was quite revolting, more especially when we had to meet the grins or frowns of the many with firmness and composure.
The weather had been tempestuous and rainy, for three or four successive days: on the 28th it cleared up a little. Under any circumstances, however, we could not have delayed our journey. We had not proceeded very far when
it again commenced to rain and to blow heavily from the N.W. The river trended to the South. We passed down several rapids, and observed the marks of recent flood on the trees, to the height of seven feet. The alluvial flats did not appear to have been covered, or to be subject to overflow. The timber upon them was not of a kind that is found on flooded lands, but wherever reeds prevailed the flooded or blue gum stretched its long white branches over them. The country to the westward was low and bushy.
The left bank of the Murray was extremely lofty, and occasionally rose to 100 feet perpendicularly from the water. It is really difficult to describe the appearance of the banks at this place; so singular were they in character, and so varied in form. Here they had the most beautiful columnar regularity, with capitals somewhat resembling the Corinthian order in configuration; there they showed like falls of muddy water that had suddenly been petrified; and in another place they resembled the time-worn battlements of a feudal castle. It will naturally be asked, of what could these cliffs have been composed to assume so many different forms? and what could have operated to produce such unusual appearances? The truth is, they were composed almost wholly of clay and sand. Wherever the latter had accumulated, or predominated, the gradual working of water had washed it away, and left the more compact body, in some places, so delicately hollowed out, that it seemed rather the work of art than of nature. This singular formation rested on a coarse grit, that showed itself in slabs.
From the frequent occurrence of rapids I should imagine that we had fallen considerably, but there was no visible decline of country. The river swept along, in broad and noble reaches, at the base of the cliffs. Vast accumulations of sand were in its bed, a satisfactory proof of the sandy character of the distant interior, if other proof were wanting.