Following the watercourse we were encamped upon, it took us through a pass, among the rough hills lying north-easterly. So soon as we cleared the pass, the creek turned northerly, and ran away over a fine piece of grassy plain, which was a kind of valley, between two lines of hills running east and west, the valley being of some width. The timber of the creek fell off here, and the watercourse seemed to exhaust itself upon the valley in a westerly direction, but split into two or three channels before ending, if, indeed, it does end here, which I doubt, as I believe this valley and creek, form the head of the Lyons River, as no doubt the channel forms again and continues its course to the west. To-day on our journey I noticed some native poplar-trees. We left all the water-channels on our left hand, and proceeded north across the plain, towards a low part or fall, between two ranges that run along the northern horizon. The valley consists of grassy flats, though somewhat thickly timbered with mulga. Some natives' fires were observed in the hills on our line of march. That night we encamped without water, in a low part of the hills, after travelling nineteen or twenty miles. The night became very cloudy, and so was the next morning. We had more rough, stony, and scrubby hills to traverse. At six miles we got over these and down into another valley, but even in this, the country was all scrub and stones. We encamped at a dry gum-creek, where there was good herbage and bushes for the camels; but the whole region being so rough, it does not please either us or the camels at all. They can't get soft places to stand on while they are feeding, nor are their sleeping places like feather-beds either. At night a very slight sprinkling of rain fell for a minute or two.
May the 6th was the anniversary of the departure of the caravan from Beltana in South Australia, whither we were now again endeavouring to force our way by a new line. More hills, rough and wretched, were travelled over to-day. In five miles we got to a new watercourse, amongst the hills, which seemed inclined to go north-easterly, so we followed it. It meandered about among the hills and through a pass, but no water was seen, though we were anxiously looking for it at every turn. Alec shot a wild turkey or bustard to-day. After going thirteen or fourteen miles, and finding no water, I camped, and as we had none for ourselves, I sent Alec Ross, Saleh, and Tommy into the hills with the camels to a place about ten miles back, where I had seen a small native well. They returned the following day, having found a good-sized water-hole, and brought a supply to the camp. The last two nights were cloudy, and I could get no observations for latitude. While the camels were away I ascended a hill close by the camp; the scene was indeed most extraordinary, bald and abrupt hills, mounts, and ranges being thrown up in all directions; they resemble the billows of a tempestuous ocean suddenly solidified into stone, or as though a hundred thousand million Pelions had been upon as many million Ossas hurled, and as though the falling masses, with superincumbent weight, falling, flattened out the summits of the mountains low but great.
Our creek, as well as I could determine, seemed to be joined by others in its course north-easterly. I was surprised to find a creek running in that direction, expecting rather to find the fall of the whole region to the opposite point, as we are now in the midst of the hill-country that forms the watershed, that sends so many rivers into the sea on the west coast. The hills forming these watersheds are almost uniformly composed of granite, and generally lie in almost parallel lines, nearly east and west. They are mostly flat-topped, and at various points present straight, rounded, precipitous, and corrugated fronts, to the astonished eyes that first behold them. A few small water-channels rise among them, and these, joining others of a similar kind, gather strength and volume sufficient to form the channels of larger watercourses, which eventually fall into some other, dignified by the name of a river, and eventually discharge themselves into the sea. Between the almost parallel lines of hills are hollows or narrow valleys, which are usually as rough and stony as the tops of the hills themselves; and being mostly filled with scrubs and thickets, it is as dreadful a region for the traveller to gaze upon as can well be imagined; it is impossible to describe it. There is little or no permanent water in the whole region; a shower occasionally falls here and there, and makes a small flood in one or other of the numerous channels; but this seems to be all that the natives of this part of the country have to depend upon. If there were any large waters, we must come upon them by signs, or instinct, if not by chance. The element of chance is not so great here as in hidden and shrouded scrubs, for here we can ascend the highest ground, and any leading feature must instantly be discovered. The leading features here are not the high, but the low grounds, not the hills, but the valleys, as in the lowest ground the largest watercourses must be found. Hence we follow our present creek, as it must run into a larger one. I know the Ashburton is before us, and not far off now; and as it is the largest river? in Western Australia, it must occupy the largest and lowest valley. The number of inhabitants of this region seems very limited; we have met none, an occasional smoke in the distance being the only indication of their existence. In the hot months of the year this region must be vile in the extreme, and I consider myself most fortunate in having the cool season before me to traverse it in. It is stony, sterile, and hideous, and totally unsuited for the occupation or habitation of the white man.
[CHAPTER 5.3. FROM 7TH MAY TO 10TH JUNE, 1876.]
Depart for higher ground. Rainfalls. Ophthalmia. Romantic glen. Glen Ross. Camels on the down grade. Larger creek. The Ashburton. No natives. Excellent bushes for camels. A strange spot. Junction of several creeks. Large snake. Grand Junction Depot. A northerly journey. Milk thistle. Confined glen. Pool of water. Blind with ophthalmia. Leading the blind. Dome-like masses. Mount Robinson and The Governor. Ophthalmia range. Rocky spring. Native fig-trees. A glen full of water. Camels nearly drowned. Scarcity of living things. And of water. Continued plague of flies. A pretty view. Tributaries join. Nicholls's Fish ponds. Characteristics of watering places. Red hill. Another spring. Unvarying scene. Frost, thermometer 28°. A bluff hill. Gibson's Desert again. Remarks upon the Ashburton. The desert's edge. Barren and wretched region. Low ridges and spinifex. Deep native well. Thermometer 18°. Salt bush and Acacia flats. A rocky cleft. Sandhills in sight. Enter the desert. The solitary caravan. Severe ridges of sand. Camels poisoned in the night. In doubt, and resolved. Water by digging. More camels attacked. A horrible and poisonous region. Variable weather. Thick ice. A deadly Upas-tree.
Though the camels returned early from where the water was found, some of them required a rest on the soft ground on the banks of the creek, and as there were good bushes here also, we remained for the rest of the day. The night set in very close and oppressive, and a slight rain fell. On the morning of May the 8th there was some appearance of more rain, and as we were camped upon ground liable to be flooded, I decided to be off at once to some higher ground, which we reached in about two miles down the creek. While we were packing up, and during the time we were travelling, the rain came down sufficiently heavily to wet us all thoroughly. We got to the side of a stony hill, put up our tents and tarpaulins, and then enjoyed the rain exceedingly, except that our senses of enjoyment were somewhat blunted, for all of us had been attacked with ophthalmia for several days previously. Livingstone remarks in one of his works that, in Africa, attacks of ophthalmia generally precede rain. The rain fell occasionally throughout the remainder of the day and during the night. “All night long, in fitful pauses, falling far, but faint and fine.” By the next morning it had flooded the small lateral channels; this, however, caused a very slight trickling down the channel of the larger creek. The following day was windy and cloudy, but no more rain fell; about an inch and a half had fallen altogether. We remained in camp to-day, and dried all our things. The position of the camp was in latitude 24° 12´ 8´´ and longitude about 118° 20´.
[ILLUSTRATION 44]
