The Adventures of Louis de Rougemont

by Louis de Rougemont

I may be permitted a little digression here to give a few extracts from Giles’s book, “Australia Twice Traversed” (Sampson Low & Company), for this contains the version of the leader of the expedition himself as to the circumstances under which Gibson was lost. In all, it seems, Giles made five exploring expeditions into and through Central South Australia and Western Australia from 1872 to 1876. Speaking of his second expedition, Mr. Giles says: “I had informed my friend, Baron Von Mueller, by wire from the Charlotte Waters Telegraph station, of the failure and break-up of my first expedition, and he set to work and obtained new funds for me to continue my labours. I reached Adelaide late in January 1873, and got my party together. We left early in March of 1873, and journeyed leisurely up-country to Beltana, then past the Finnis Springs to the Gregory. We then journeyed up to the Peake, where we were welcomed by Messrs. Bagot at the Cattle Station, and Mr. Blood of the Telegraph Department. Here we fixed up all our packs, sold Bagot the waggon, and bought horses and other things. We now had twenty pack-horses and four riding-horses.”

We next come to the introduction of Gibson. “Here a short young man accosted me, and asked me if I didn’t remember him. He said he was ‘Alf.’ I thought I knew his face, but I thought it was at the Peake that I had seen him; but he said, ‘Oh, no! Don’t you remember Alf, with Bagot’s sheep at the north-west bend of the Murray? My name’s Alf Gibson, and I want to go out with you.’ I said, ‘Well, can you shoe? Can you ride? Can you starve? Can you go without water? And how would you like to be speared by the blacks?’ He said he could do everything I had mentioned, and he wasn’t afraid of the blacks. He was not a man I would have picked out of a mob, but men were scarce, and he seemed so anxious to come, so I agreed to take him.

“Thus, the expedition consisted of four persons—myself (Ernest Giles), Mr. William Henry Tietkins, Alf Gibson, and James Andrews; with twenty-four horses and two little dogs. On Monday, 4th August, we finally left the encampment.”

Now here is the passage in which Mr. Giles describes his dramatic parting with Gibson. It will be found in the chapter marked “20th April to 21st May 1874”: “Gibson and I departed for the West. I rode the ‘Fair Maid of Perth.’ I gave Gibson the big ambling horse, ‘Badger,’ and we packed the big cob with a pair of water-bags that contained twenty gallons. As we rode away, I was telling Gibson about various exploring expeditions and their fate, and he said, ‘How is it that, in all these exploring expeditions, a lot of people go and die?’ He said, ‘I shouldn’t like to die in this part of the country, anyhow.’

“We presently had a meal of smoked horse. It was late when we encamped, and the horses were much in want of water,—especially the big cob, who kept coming up to the camp all night and trying to get at our water-bags. We had one small water-bag hung in a tree.

“I didn’t think of that until my mare came straight up to it and took it in her teeth, forcing out the cork, and sending the water up, which we were both dying to drink, in a beautiful jet. Gibson was now very sorry he had exchanged ‘Badger’ for the cob, as he found the latter very dull and heavy to get along. There had been a hot wind from the north all day, and the following morning (the 23rd of April), there was a most strange dampness in the air, and I had a vague feeling, such as must have been felt by augurs and seers of old, who trembled as they told events to come; for this was the last day on which I ever saw Gibson.

“As Gibson came along after me, he called out that his horse was going to die. The hills to the west were twenty-five to thirty miles away, and I had to give up trying to reach them. How I longed for a camel! Gibson’s horse was now so bad as to place both of us in a great dilemma. We turned back in our tracks, when the cob refused to carry his rider any farther, and tried to lie down. We drove him another mile on foot, and down he fell to die. My mare, the ‘Fair Maid of Perth,’ was only too willing to return, but she had now to carry Gibson’s saddle and things, and away we went, walking and riding in turns of one half-hour each.

“When we got back to about thirty miles from a place which I had named ‘The Kegs,’ I shouted to Gibson, who was riding, to stop until I walked up to him. By this time we had hardly a pint of water left between us.

“We here finished the supply, and I then said, as I could not speak before, ‘Look here, Gibson, you see we are in a most terrible fix, with only one horse. Only one can ride, and one must remain behind. I shall remain; and now listen to me. If the mare does not get water soon, she will die; therefore, ride right on; get to the Kegs, if possible, to-night, and give her water. Now that the cob is dead, there’ll be all the more water for her. Early to-morrow you will sight the Rawlinson, at twenty-five miles from the Kegs. Stick to the tracks and never leave them. Leave as much water in one keg for me as you can afford, after watering the mare and filling up your own bags; and, remember, I depend upon you to bring me relief.’

“Gibson said if he had a compass he thought he could go better by night. I knew he didn’t understand anything about compasses, as I had often tried to explain them to him. The one I had was a Gregory’s Patent, of a totally different construction from ordinary instruments of the kind, and I was loth to part with it, as it was the only one I had. However, as he was so anxious for it, I gave it to him, and away he went. I sent one final shout after him to stick to the tracks, and he said, ‘All right’ and the mare carried him out of sight almost instantly.