4TH MAY.—An Australian morning is always charming,—amid these scenes of primaeval nature it seemed exquisitely so. The BARITA? or GYMNORHINA, the organ-magpie, was here represented by a much smaller bird, whose notes, resembling the softest breathings of a flute, were the only sounds that met the ear. What the stillness of even adds to such sounds in other climes, is felt more intensely in the stillness of morning in this. "The rapture of repose that's there" gratifies every sense; the perfume of the shrubs, of those even that have recently been burnt, and the tints and tones of the landscape, accord with the soft sounds. The light red tints of the ANTHISTIRIA, the brilliant green of the MIMOSA, the white stems of the EUCALYPTUS, and the deep grey shadows of early morning, still slumbering about the woods, are blended and contrasted in the most pleasing harmony. The forms in the soft landscape are equally fine, from the wild fantastic tufting of the Eucalyptus, and its delicate willow-like ever-drooping leaf, to the prostrate trunks of ancient trees, the mighty ruins of the vegetable world. Instead of autumnal tints, there is a perpetual blending of the richest hues of autumn with the most brilliant verdure of spring; while the sun's welcome rays in a winter morning, and the cool breath of the woods in a summer morning, are equally grateful concomitants of such scenes. These attach even the savage to his woods, and might well reclaim the man of crime from thoughts likely to disturb the harmony of human existence.
Following up the little river with more confidence now, since I had seen whence it came, I proceeded more directly north-west. Thus I found myself on a small creek, or chain of ponds, from the west and southwest, so that I crossed it and made for some open ground, between ridges clothed with dense Malga scrub. We thus crossed a low ridge, and descended towards a fine open country, on which pigeons were numerous, and traces of natives. It was also sloping to the northward, and I had no doubt that we had passed into a valley which I had observed yesterday from Mount First View, and had supposed it contained a larger river. In the open ground, I found a small rocky knoll which I named Mount Minute. From its summit, I recognised Mount First-Sight, bearing 128° 30'. We next passed through some scrub, and came to a hollow full of Acacia pendula. Following this down we arrived at a chain of ponds, and these led to an open grassy valley, in which we found our old friend, the river, still pursuing, steadily, a north-west course. Travelling along the bank, for a mile or two, we found that these now consisted of fine open forest flats; and at length encamped on the margin, after a journey of about twelve miles. Near our camp, I saw natives on the opposite bank, first standing in mute astonishment, then running away. I held up a green bough, but they seemed very wild; and, although occasionally seen during the afternoon, none of them would approach us. We found on the banks of this river, a purple-flowered CALANDRINIA, previously unknown.[*] Lat. 26° 57' 39" S. Thermometer, at sunrise, 25°; at 4 p.m., 70°; at 9, 37°;—with wet bulb, 34°.
[* C. BALONENSIS (Lindl. MS.); foliis angustis obovato-lanceolatis alternis oppositisque, racemis secundis multifloris caulibus multo longioribus, floribus (conspicuis) polyandris.]
5TH MAY.—The three last nights had been cold, each, in succession, colder than the former. This morning the thermometer stood at 19° E., yet the water was not frozen, nor did our natives, sleeping in the open air, seem to feel it. Hence, it was obvious that, in a dry atmosphere, extreme cold can be more easily borne than in one that is moist. So, also, in the opposite extreme of heat and drought, we had been so accustomed to a higher temperature than 100° F., that any degree under that felt refreshing. Our journey this day by the side of the little river was still very straight towards the N. W. We met with rocks at the westerly bends; from which side it was also joined by a small tributary, with ponds and hollows containing marks of flood, and beds of the POLYGONUM ACRE. Still, however, the main channel could be distinguished from these, and the open forest flats along its banks became more and more extensive and open as we ascended this channel,—leading so directly where we wished to go.
Hills were occasionally seen back from it, chiefly covered with scrub, but some were grassy and seemed fit for sheep. Others were clothed with callitris, and there the woods were open enough to be travelled through. I rode to the summit of one and recognized two of the points seen from Mount First Sight. At one sharp turn of the river rugged rocks had to be removed to make a way for the carts, but this was soon done. Beyond, there was a noble reach of water in a rocky bed, traversed by a dyke of felspathic rock, which exhibited a tendency to break into irregular polygons, some of the faces of which were curved; its strike was E. and W. We encamped on open forest land in lat. 26° 54' 16" S. It was only during the last two days that I could perceive in the barometer, any indication that we were rising to any higher level above the sea than that of the great basin, in which we had journeyed so long, and the difference was still but trifling, as indicated by not more than six or seven millimetres of the Syphon barometer; our actual height above the sea being 737 feet. Thermometer, at sunrise, 19°; at 4 p.m., 67°.
6TH MAY.—The banks of the Cogoon became more open, and the slopes less abrupt as we advanced. They frequently consisted of a mixture of sand, at a height of twenty feet above its bed; where it occupied a section of considerable width, as much, perhaps, as 100 yards between bank and bank. On these rounded off banks or bergs of forest land, Youranigh drew my attention to large, old, waterworn, trunks of trees, which he showed me had been deposited there by floods. As they were of a growth and size quite disproportioned to other trees there, I was convinced that they were the debris of floods; and, consequently, that a vast body of water sometimes came down this channel. This native was taciturn and observant of such natural circumstances, to a degree that made his opinion of value in doubtful cases. Such, for instance, as which of two channels, that might come both in our way, might be the main one; thus my last resource, when almost "in a fix," was to "tomar el parecer," as they say in Spain, of this aboriginal, and he was seldom wrong. At length, the cheering expanse of an open country appeared before us, and a finely shaped hill, half-covered only, with bushes. On reaching an elevated clear part, I saw extensive downs before me. The river turned amongst woods to the eastward, and I continued on our route to the north, sure of meeting with it again, as some fine forest ridges hemmed in the valley to the eastward. Besides the hill already mentioned (which I named Mount Inviting), there was a curious red cone some miles to the westward, crowned with a bit of rock, on which I longed to plant my theodolite. After crossing the plain, we entered an open scrub of Acacia pendula which gradually changed to an open forest, within which I met with a chain of ponds, and encamped in lat. 26° 46' S. I immediately set out, with a man carrying my theodolite, for Mount Red Cap, distant from our camp about six miles. This little red cone had a very singular appearance, as we approached it from the east. A dark tinted scrub of flat-topped trees enveloped its base, on the outside of which the light and graceful Acacia pendula also grew on the grassy plain. I found the red rock to be the common one of the country, in a state of decomposition. It was hollowed out by some burrowing animal, whose tracks had opened ways through the thick thorny scrub, enabling us to lead our horses to near the top. From the apex, I obtained an extensive view of the country then before us, in many parts clear of wood to the verge of the horizon, and finely studded with isolated hills of picturesque form, and patches of wood. Looking backward, or in the direction whence we had come, our valley appeared hemmed in by more continuous ridges; and, towards the extremity of them, I could just recognise Mount First View, this being one of the distant cones I had seen from it. I took as many angles as the descending sun permitted, and then retraced our horses' tracks to the camp. Thermometer, at sunrise, 20°; at 9 p.m., 47°. Height above the sea, 747 feet.
7TH MAY.—Pursuing a N. W. course, we crossed a fine tract of open forest, then a plain, beyond which we entered a scrub of Acacia pendula, in which pigeons and quail were very numerous. Turning northward, now anxious again to see the river, on approaching this open country, we found what we considered the highest branch of it, in a chain of ponds skirting the wood bounding the plains. Halting the party, I continued my ride a mile and a half further northward, to the summit of a clear ridge. From thence I saw an open country to the northward, with some little wood. On my right, or to the eastward, a double topped hill sate in the centre of this fine open country, and from the abundance of good pasturage around it, I named it Mount Abundance. We continued still to follow the now attenuated channel upwards, and found it to come from the west, and even south-west, leaving the extreme corner of the open downs, and leading us into a scrub. There, it formed two branches, in neither of which could we find any water, and had consequently to return to the last of its ponds, situated exactly at the close of the open country towards the S. W. There, we encamped in latitude 26° 42' 27" S., thankful that we had been enabled by its means to advance thus far, and to discover so fine a tract of country as that watered by it. Thermometer, at sunrise, 48°; at 4 p.m., 68°; at 9, 30°.
8TH MAY.—This morning Fahrenheit's thermometer stood at 21° in my tent, a degree of cold I should never have expected to have seen indicated from my own sensations, or from the state of the pond, which was not frozen, neither was there any hoar frost. The sun rose in splendour; pigeons cooed, and birds were as merry as usual in the woods. The business of the day was most exciting; I was to ride over the fine open country to the westward of Mount Abundance, and there look still for a higher branch of the river, or A river; confident that so fine a region could not be deficient in water, but more confident from what I had seen of the range to which we had approached so near. Riding to the N. N. E. in about two hours we came upon the identical river we had so long followed up. It was accompanied, as usual, by the Acacia pendula; had its rounded bergs; reedy water holes; and an open strip along the left bank. Crossing it I rode over towards an elevated part of the open downs, in hopes to obtain a sight of what the country was beyond, but I found that to be impossible, as it seemed boundless. So, turning, I ascended an elevated north-eastern extremity of Mount Abundance, and from it beheld the finest country I had ever seen in a primaeval state. A champaign region, spotted with wood, stretching as far as human vision, or even the telescope, could reach. It was intersected by river lines from the north, distinguishable by columns of smoke. A noble mountain mass arose in the midst of that fine country, and was so elongated in a S. W. and N. E. direction, as to deserve the name of a range.
A three-topped hill appeared far to the north of the above, and to the S. E. of the first described, another mass, also isolated, overlooking that variegated land of wood and plain. To the S. E. of all these, the peaks of a very distant range were just visible. I determined to name the whole country Fitzroy Downs, and to identify it, I gave the name of the Grafton Range to the fine mass in the midst of it. In hopes of obtaining an elevated view over the country to the westward, I endeavoured to ascend the northern summit of Mount Abundance, but although the surface to near the top was tolerably smooth, and the bush open, I was met there by rugged rocks, and a scrub of thorny bushes so formidable as to tear leathern overalls, and even my nose. After various attempts, I found I was working round a rocky hollow, somewhat resembling a crater, although the rock did not appear to be volcanic. The trees and bushes there were different from others in the immediate vicinity, and, to me, seemed chiefly new. It is, indeed, rather a curious circumstance, but by no means uncommon, that the vegetation on such isolated summits in Australia, is peculiar and different from that of the country around them. Trees of a very droll form chiefly drew my attention here. The trunk bulged out in the middle like a barrel, to nearly twice the diameter at the ground, or of that at the first springing of the branches above. These were small in proportion to their great girth, and the whole tree looked very odd. These trees were all so alike in general form that I was convinced this was their character, and not a LUSUS NATUROE. [A still more remarkable specimen of this tree was found by Mr. Kennedy in the apex of a basaltic peak, in the kind of gap of the range through which we passed on the 15th of May, and of which he made the accompanying drawing.]