One of these animals kept at “Been,” in the Tumat country, alive and in a tame state, would remain in its habitation until dark; it would then come out, and seek for the keelers or milk vessels; and should none be uncovered, would contrive to get off the covers, bathe itself in the milk, drinking at the same time. It would also enter the little vegetable garden attached to the station, in search of lettuces, to which it evinced much partiality; if none could be found, it would gnaw the cabbage-stalks, without touching the foliage. Although numerous in the more distant parts of the colony, they are difficult to procure, from the great depth to which they burrow.
Having passed the “ploughed ground,” Bong Bong, Mittagong range, &c. I continued, through a country parched by the summer heats, or having a burnt aspect, from the custom among the settlers or natives, of setting fire to the dried grass. The scorched and arid appearance of the land, as my journey led towards Sydney, was wretched, compared with the beautiful verdant plains and ranges I had left in the Tumat, Murrumbidgee, and Yas countries. The harvest was for the most part reaped; a few scattered patches animated by the verdure of the young maize springing up, and the yellow flowers of the native “Jibbong,” (Persoonia sp.,) with a few other flowering shrubs, scattered about, was all that cheered the eye of the traveller on the journey. I arrived at Sydney on the 2nd of Jan. 1833.
The houses by the road side, on the approach to Sydney from Liverpool, or Paramatta, are very neat in their construction. A bark-hut near the “metropolis” is daily becoming rarer; they are speedily giving place to neat and even elegant verandah cottages. There are certainly an abundance of public-houses in the colony, and the neat, clean appearance of the attendants, as well as the interior of the inns, may vie with those in the mother-country. The signs of the taverns assume every variety, all but that of Temperance.
It has often been mentioned by writers upon the United States of America, that a purer and more correct English is spoken in that country than in the “old country,” where it is corrupted by so many different provincial dialects. The remark respecting the United States of America will equally apply to Australia; for among the native-born Australians, (descended from European parents,) the English spoken is very pure; and it is easy to recognize a person from home or one born in the colony, no matter of what class of society, from this circumstance.
On a spot near the entrance to Botany Bay, (so named by Sir Joseph Banks, and “Sting Ray Bay,” from the number of that fish captured there by Captain Cook,) a neat column has been erected by Mr. Joshua Thorp, (at that time the government architect,) from a design by Mr. Cookney, to the memory of La Perouse; the expense of its erection being paid by a subscription from the officers of the French discovery ships, which visited the colony in 1824; the colonial government supplying convict labourers. It is situated on a little elevation not far from the place at which Captain Cook landed. The column is circular, standing on a pedestal, and surmounted by a sphere. Its elevation may be about fifteen feet. This was the last place whence intelligence was received from the indefatigable but unfortunate navigator. The inscriptions on the pedestal are in English and French, and as follow:—“This place, visited by Mons. de la Perouse in 1788, is the last whence any accounts of him were received. Erected in the name of France by M.M. de Bougainville and Ducampier, commanding the frigate La Thetis and the corvette L’Esperance, lying in Port Jackson. An. 1825.” About one hundred yards distant, inland from this column, near a red gum tree, are interred the remains of Pere le Receveur, one of the naturalists attached to Perouse’s expedition, who died at Botany Bay, in 1788. On the red-gum tree was the following inscription, carved by one of the officers attached to Bougainville’s expedition:—“Prés de cet arbre. Reposent les restes, Du P. Le Receveur. Visité en Mars, 1824.”
During the time that the French discovery ships, La Thetis and L’Esperance, lay at Port Jackson, this place was also visited by their commanders and officers; and search having been made for the exact spot where the remains of the naturalist were deposited, some of his bones were found, and over that spot a plain monument has been erected to his memory: on it was placed the following inscription:—“Hic jacet, Le Receveur, Ex. F. F. Minoribus, Galliæ Sacerdos, Physicus in Circumnavigatione Mundi Duce de la Perouse. Obiit die 17 Feb. Anno 1788.”
The following account of the death of Le Receveur is given in Philipp’s Voyage to Botany Bay, &c. “During the stay of M. de la Perouse in Botany Bay, Father Le Receveur, who came out in the Astrolabe as a naturalist, died. His death was occasioned by wounds, which he received in the unfortunate rencontre at the Navigator’s Island.” A slight monument was erected to his memory. An inscription was placed on it similar to the preceding.
The Sydney police office daily produces a strange compound of characters; ludicrous scenes and incidents furnish abundance of aliment for the newspapers, who decorate many of the cases brought before the magistrate in so facetious a manner as to amuse their readers and sell the papers. The number of newspapers published in Sydney is very great, considering the small town, and many of them are well and ably conducted. The “Sydney Herald” is published twice a week; the “Sydney Gazette” three times; the “Sydney Monitor” twice; and there are other smaller papers published weekly.
At Paramatta I saw two tame specimens of the lesser Otis, or Bustard, the “Curlew” of the colony, which is abundant in this country; they were familiar with the man who was in the habit of feeding them, but averse to approach strangers. It is principally during the stillness of night that the peculiar melancholy cry and whistle of these birds are heard, seeming like the harbinger of death. While sitting one night by the bed-side of a young man, expiring from a decline, I heard the note of the bird, unbroken by any other sound; it came over my senses like a knell summoning the departing spirit to its last long home.[125]