Camp 44, Williams Creek. Mild night, not so like rain this morning. Bearing of 355 degrees crossing this creek at an acute angle, crossed this creek again at three miles, crossed again at five miles—creek close on the right; at six and one-eighth miles crossed a deep tributary at its junction—heavy timber, plenty of water. Williams Creek still close on the right full of spinifex on the slopes and short rough abrupt creeks; bad travelling; at seven and three-quarter miles commenced travelling in bed of the creek, west side, till eight and three-quarter miles, the creek bearing off more to the east. At present I keep on my course of 355 degrees, over good country the latter part of course. At thirteen miles came to and crossed a splendid creek with abundance of water and lots of fish coming from the hills west and flowing apparently east. This creek I have called the Elder after Thomas Elder, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Monday, April 28.
Camp 45, Elder's Creek. Last night we slept in the bed of the creek on the sand. There must have been a terrific flood here lately, such as this part of the world has not been visited with for many years; between thirty and forty feet over our heads in the bed of this creek are now to be seen logs, grass, and all sorts of rubbish left by it; and immense trees torn up by the roots, and others broken off short at twenty to thirty feet from their roots—showing the violence of the current. No doubt there is plenty of permanent water in the range further up in the last three creeks we have camped on. Mild morning with fleecy clouds. Wind south-south-west. Another deep creek joins this where we struck it, coming more from the south-west; water at its junction with this. Plenty of water up this creek; did not go down it. Our journey today on bearing of 355 degrees over sixteen and three-quarter miles was over good, lightly-timbered, well-grassed country and a good deal of flooded country. Saw no water but lots of birds. Shot an emu. Changed course to 347 degrees for a small hill in the distance and at two and a half miles crossed several irregular watercourses from the north flowing to south and east; went then to a small spinifex rise, timbered. At eight and a half miles struck a creek with water; I have called it Poole's Creek after Mr. R.T. Poole of Willaston. Distance travelled today twenty-five and a half miles. After getting into camp myself and Middleton went on to the hill in front and at two and a quarter miles arrived at it. It is perfectly detached and stands in the open plain—is very stony or rather rocky. Open plains to the north and west as far as you can discern; to the north-north-east appears dark timber which I hope to be the main creek, and appears to be bearing to north and west. A couple of isolated hills from fifteen to twenty miles off bearing respectively, the southern one 251 1/2 degrees, the northern one 254 degrees. The southern one I have called Mount Elephant, the one to the north Mount McPherson, and the one I am on Margaret. Another in the distance bearing 258 degrees.
Tuesday, April 29.
Camp 46, Poole's Creek. This creek takes its rise from the westward on the plains between this and the hills which are now a considerable distance from us; and after passing this encampment bears to east round by north. Mild morning, wind easterly. Shot two young emus. Pass over immense plains with small belts of bushes here and there and in places more especially near the isolated hill on the plain. At eleven and a quarter miles further came to a watercourse from the westward and flowing considerably to north of east with plenty of water. Camped to give sheep and bullocks time to feed, as it was half-past 8 p.m. ere they reached their camp last night, and one of the bullocks considerably lame. Distance travelled about thirteen and a half miles. Instead of plains, as I have called this open country, it is rather very gentle undulations and a considerable portion of it occasionally inundated as for instance of late. Another large waterhole in this course at about a mile on bearing of 355 degrees; the creek then appears to bear off to the eastward. I will still hold on my course of 15 degrees, but would sooner it were 25 degrees west of north as on that course I would be going pretty direct for the mouth of the River Albert, now I imagine about 150 miles distant, if the watch has not put me too much out—it stops sometimes and when it does go it gains one hour in twelve.
Wednesday, April 30.
Camp 47. Blackfellows burning grass to east-south-east of us; the first bushfire we have seen; morning pleasant with wind from south-south-east. Some or nearly all complained of being sick after eating the first emu, but I liked it much and so did some of the others; they are a great acquisition and have saved us three sheep; the largest weighed when ready for the pot forty-eight pounds; the smaller ones when ready for use thirty-one and thirty-three pounds, and are much better than the old one. The grass passed over yesterday although abundant is rank and not of that sweet description we have before seen, but no doubt excellent for cattle and horses. Just as the animals were being brought in for packing Davis found, in a small shallow pool nearly dry, numbers of small nice-looking fish of two sorts—longest not more than three and a half inches; one sort like the catfish of the Murray, the other spotted like a salmon. For five miles over timbered plains on a bearing of 345 degrees; at three and a half miles struck a small creek coming from west and south with plenty of water; and at five and a quarter miles further an immense deep creek with water (gum) crossed at rightangles from the western banks which are very precipitous. I have called it the Jessie. At six miles came to and crossed a noble river, now a creek as it is not running, but plenty of water; from 300 to 400 yards broad. At crossing the first, cabbage palm seen on its western bank between this and the last creek; on left of course is a splendid belt of white gums on the dry sound flat; this river, like the other creek, flows from south of west after crossing a northerly and easterly course; I have called it the Jeannie after a young lady friend of mine. At fourteen and a half miles came to a fine lagoon running easterly and westerly; good water in abundance; went round it and camped north-west side, as the natives are firing close by on the south-east side; distance nineteen and a half miles. For some considerable distance back it has been an open timbered country; plenty of myall and useful white butt gum; drainage as yet all to the east and slightly north. I thought the Jeannie bore more north but it bore off again to the eastward; no game of any kind seen today except a turkey; a great quantity of vines on which grows four or five black fruit, like peas and extremely hard, from every flower, and on which the emu appears to feed much. There were also two other vines or runners on which grow an oblong fruit about one to one and a half inches long, green like cucumber, but bitter; the other is a round fruit about the size of a walnut, darker in colour than the other, not so abundant, and which the emu seems to exist much on at present. Some seeds of each and many shrubs, flowers, and fruits before new to me I have obtained. A number of partially-dried lagoons all round this about three-quarters of a mile long; one is about six feet deep; a very fine sheet of water.
Thursday, May 1.
Camp 48. Beautiful cool breeze from east-south-east; one native seen by Palmer (who was behind with the bullocks) running the tracks of the horses and camels, but when he saw Palmer he was off at full speed; it is strange we don't fall in with more of them in a country where there appears to be lots of food and water for them; started on bearing of 330 degrees, at 120 yards crossed a partially dry lagoon, at a quarter of a mile another, then splendid open forest, well timbered and grassed; at two and a quarter miles struck a creek flowing about 20 degrees north of east, deep sandy bed, no water, followed it down for one mile bearing 70 degrees and crossed, not being able to get up the opposite banks being so abrupt; although there is no water here no doubt from the look of the creek there is abundance both above and below, dead palm tree branches amongst the creek-wash; bearing of 330 degrees through splendid open forest and well grassed; at one mile crossed the same creek flowing to north of west, at three and a quarter miles struck it again and crossed it flowing to north of east, and just in a turning to north, still no water in its bed, at three and three-quarter miles struck it again but did not cross it, it appearing to bear to north-east out of our tracks; bearing of 290 degrees one mile, creek on right hand; bearing of 330 degrees five miles; then bearing of 322 1/2 degrees for one and three-quarter miles; bearing of 330 degrees three miles over open plains with a few shrubs occasionally, came to a small creek flowing to north of east, plenty of water; distance travelled seventeen and three-quarter miles; the grass on all the very open country was very dry and little substance in it, along the large creek passed and crossed various times reeds first met with; the large creek when last seen was bearing to west of north a long distance off, beyond an open plain; the creek I am now upon divides into several branches just here, which makes this one so small. Shot a new bird—dark grey, large tail, something like a pheasant in its flight; it always starts from the ground and settles awkwardly on the trees, its tail appearing a nuisance to it; the specimen shot is too much torn for preservation. The days now are very warm and the nights very agreeable. Short as the time is since they must have had the rain here it is astonishing how it has dried up in many places. The large creek crossed yesterday I have called the William after a young friend of mine.
Friday, May 2.