Tired out with the monotony of camp life, after the departure of the cutter, he decided on another attempt, although one would have thought the suffering his horses had already gone through would have induced him to give them a longer rest.
On the 30th December he left camp, and that evening reached the sandhills where he had before obtained the brackish water. Next morning they found some natives, who told them once again that there was no water ahead. On the 2nd January he made an attempt to the north-west, undeterred by these warnings, but only got fourteen miles when he had to send the horses back, and on the 5th, making another effort from this point, only got on another seven miles. Sending the dray and horses back, Eyre, with one white man and the black boy, went on, having buried some casks of water against their return. A terribly hot day set in, which so completely exhausted the whole party, that they had to encamp on the sea shore until night fell. The next morning he sent the man back, and pushing ahead came upon some natives digging in the sand, and with their aid watered the horses. They also showed them some more water further on, and accompanied them to it. Beyond this point, they said, there was no water for a ten days' journey.
Eyre rode on some distance, and having ascertained all he could of the nature of the country at the head of the Bight, which he had by this time passed, he returned to the party, and they all shifted back to the old depôt, at Fowler's Bay, on the 20th January.
On the 25th the HERO, cutter, arrived (the WATERWITCH having sprung a leak), but her charter did not extend beyond the boundary of South Australia, so that Eyre was unable to use her to carry his heavy stores any further.
Under the circumstances he resolved to send nearly the whole of his party back by the vessel, and push his way through to King George's Sound, or perish.
In arriving at this determination, Eyre was evidently actuated by a sense of such keen disappointment, at being baffled both to the north and the west, that he could not bear the thought of returning to Adelaide a beaten man. Whilst one can give a meed of admiration to the obstinate courage that characterised this resolution, we are also astonished at his persistence in a course that, whilst inevitably entailing the greatest possible suffering on men and horses, could lead to no good nor useful result. With his small party and equipment it would at best be only a struggle for life round the coast, giving no more information than had been acquired by the marine surveys. Even the wild attempts of Grey look comparatively reasonable beside this march of Eyre's, Had he had any object in view beyond the one of being the first white man to cross the desert between the two colonies, his actions might have been excusable, but as it was, his trip was bound to be profitless and resultless.
On the 31st January the cutter departed, and Eyre, the overseer, Baxter, and three native boys, one having come by the HERO, were left alone to face the eight hundred miles of desert solitude before them.
On the 24th, after a long spell, when they were about to start, the HERO returned, bringing a request to Mr. Eyre to abandon his mad attempt and embark himself and party on board the cutter. This he refused to do, and on the 25th made another departure. After passing the water where they had met the natives, they entered upon a dry and desolate tract over which they crossed in safety, but with great suffering. Once more relieved by a native well in the sandy beach, they pushed on, only to encounter evil fortune; horse after horse knocked up, and it was after six days' travelling they managed to get water once more, by digging in the sand.
They were now about six hundred miles from King George's Sound and in a most unenviable position, with the prospect of another one hundred mile stage without water, and the full knowledge that retreat was impossible. Their horses, in consequence of the repeated sufferings from thirst that they had been forced to undergo, were so spiritless and reduced that they could travel scarcely any distance without giving in, and yet the worst was to come. For some time the black boys had been very sullen and discontented, the constant hardships and fatigue, added to what they well-knew lay before them, told upon their spirits. Once they ran away, but hunger forced them to return; even the scanty fare at the camp was better than the slow starvation of the bush. The overseer, too, was afflicted with low spirits, and impressed by the forbidding character of their surroundings. Poor fellow, some foreboding of his fate hung over him.
The toil that had to be gone through may be conceived by the following short extract from Eyre's diary on March 11th, just after accomplishing their first terrible stage after leaving the depôt:—