Frank and Alec Jardine jointly led up the Cape York Peninsula an expedition that in its hardships and dangers emulated that of Kennedy's, but fortunately without a tragic ending. The year 1863 was one of great activity in the northern part of eastern Australia. At Cape York, the Imperial Government had, on the recommendation of Sir George Bowen, the first governor of Queensland, decided to form a settlement. John Jardine, the police magistrate of the central town of Rockhampton, was selected to take charge, and a detachment of marines was sent out to be stationed there. Somerset, the new settlement, was formed on the Albany Pass, opposite to the island of the same name. Jardine was to proceed by sea to his new sphere of office, but, anticipating the want of fresh meat at the proposed station, he entered into an arrangement with the Government whereby his two sons were to take a small herd of cattle thither overland, and on the way make careful observations of the land through which they were to pass. Somerset was situated near the scene of Kennedy's death, and knowing what tremendous difficulties that explorer had met with on the eastern shore, it was decided that the expedition should attempt to follow the western shore through the unknown country that faced the Gulf of Carpentaria. Both the Jardine brothers were quite young men at the time when they started on their exceedingly adventurous trip, which combined cattle-droving with exploration: Frank, the accepted leader, being only twenty-two years old, and his brother Alexander but twenty. Their father had come from Applegarth, in Dumfriesshire; they had both been born near Sydney, and had been educated by private tutors and at the Sydney Grammar School.
They took with them A.J. Richardson, a surveyor sent by the Government, Scrutton, Binney, Cowderoy, and four natives. The stock consisted of forty-two horses and two hundred and fifty head of cattle. The cheerful acceptance of this hazardous enterprise by these youths was a fine indication of adventurous spirit, and reflects great credit on their courage and the courage of the native-born. The fate of the last explorer who dared to face the perils of the Peninsula would have deterred any but the boldest from taking up his task.
Before the final start from Carpentaria Downs, then the furthest station to the north, supposed to be situated on Leichhardt's Lynd River, Alec Jardine made a trip ahead in order to secure knowledge of an available road for the cattle, and save delay in the earlier stages of the main journey. On this preliminary observational excursion, he followed the presumed Lynd down for nearly 180 miles, until he was convinced that neither in appearance, direction, nor position did it correspond with the river described by Leichhardt. On the subsequent journey with the cattle, this conviction was found to be in accordance with fact, for the stream was then proved to be a tributary of the Gilbert, now known as the Einnesleigh.
Alec W. Jardine.
On the 11th of October the final start was made, and the party commenced a journey seldom equalled in Australia for peril and adventure. The head of the Einnesleigh was amongst rough ranges, and on the 22nd of the month they halted the cattle while they conducted another search for the invisible Lynd. They found other good-sized creeks, but no Lynd, nor did they ever see it. They afterwards found that, owing to an error in the map they had with them, the Lynd was placed 30 miles out of position. A misfortune happened at the outset of their expedition. In the morning a large number of horses were missing. Leaving some of the party to stay behind and look for them, the two brothers and the remainder went on with the cattle. On the second day they arrived at a large creek, without having been overtaken by the party with the missing horses and the pack-horses. After an anxious day spent in waiting, Alec Jardine started back to find out the cause of the delay. He met the missing party, who were bringing bad news with them. Through carelessness in allowing the grass round the camp to catch fire, half of their rations and nearly the whole of their equipment had been burnt. In addition, one of the most valuable of their horses had been poisoned. This terrible misfortune, coming at such an early stage of their journey when they had all the unknown country ahead of them, seriously imperilled the success of their undertaking. But there was nothing to do but to bear it with what equanimity they could muster.
The Cape York natives now seemed to rejoice that they had another party of white men to dog to death. Once about twenty of them appeared about sundown and boldly attacked the camp with showers of spears. Two days afterwards, they surprised the younger Jardine when alone, and he had to fight hard for his life. The creek they had been following down led them on to the Staaten River, where the blacks succeeded in stampeding their horses, and it was days before some of them were recovered.
On the 5th of December, they left this ill-omened river, and steered due north. Bad luck still haunted them; tortured by flies, mosquitoes, and sand-flies, their horses scattered and rambled incessantly. While the brothers were absent, searching one day for the horses, the party at the camp allowed the solitary mule to stray away with its pack on. The mule was never found again, and it carried with it, in its pack, some of their most necessary articles, reducing them nearly to the same state of deprivation as their determined enemies, the aboriginals. Two more horses went mad, through drinking salt water; one died, and the other was so ill that he had to be abandoned. On the 13th of December they reached the Mitchell River, not without having had another hot battle with the blacks, who followed them day after day, watching for every opportunity and displaying the same relentless hostility that they had formerly shown to Kennedy. Whilst the party were on the Mitchell, the natives mustered in force and fell upon the explorers with the greatest determination. After a severe contest, in which heavy loss had been inflicted upon the savages, they sullenly and reluctantly retired. From what was afterwards gathered from the semi-civilised natives about Somerset, these tribes followed the Jardines for nearly 400 miles. This perseverance and inappeasable enmity had been equalled before only by the Darling natives. It can be imagined how these incessant attacks, combined with the harassing nature of the country, gave the party all they could do to hold their own, and but for the prompt and plucky manner in which the attacks were met, not one of them would have survived.
After crossing the Mitchell, steering north, they got into poor country, thinly-grassed and badly-watered, with the natives still hanging on their flanks. On the 28th of December, the blacks began to harass the horses, and another hard struggle took place. Storms of rain now set in, and they had to travel through dismal tea-tree flats, with the constant expectation of being caught by a flood in the low-lying country.