As soon as I had marked out the ground for the party I proceeded towards a hill which bore east-south-east from our camp and was distant from it about 5 1/2 miles. On our way an emu ran boldly up, apparently desirous of becoming acquainted with our horses; when close to us it stood still and began quietly to feed like a domestic fowl so that I was at first unwilling to take a shot at the social and friendly bird. The state of our flour however, and the recollection of our one remaining sheep already doomed to die, at length overcame my scruples, and I fired my carabine but missed. The bird ran only to a little distance however, and soon returned at a rapid rate again to feed beside us when, fortunately perhaps for the emu, I had no more time to spare for such sport and we proceeded.
ASCEND A HEIGHT NEAR THE CAMP, AND OBTAIN A SIGHT OF SNOWY SUMMITS TO THE EASTWARD.
The top of the hill was covered thickly with wood, but I saw for the first time for some years snowy pics far in the south-east beyond intermediate mountains also of considerable elevation. There was one low group of heights to the northward, but these were apparently the last, for the dead level of the interior was visible beyond them to the north-west. Further eastward a bold range extended too far towards the north to be turned conveniently by us in our proposed route; but under its high southern extremity (a very remarkable point) its connection with the mountains on the south appeared very low, and thither I determined to proceed. One isolated hill far in the north-western interior had already proved a useful point and was still visible here. I also saw the distant ranges to the eastward beyond the proposed pass just mentioned, and some of these I had no doubt lay beyond the Murray. The hill and range I had ascended consisted of granite, and the country between it and our camp of grassy open forest land.
October 12.
We passed over a country of similar description and well watered throughout the greater portion of this day's journey. In some parts the surface consisted of stiff clay retaining the surface water in holes, and at ten miles we crossed an undulating ridge of quartz rock; two miles beyond which we encamped near a stream running northward.
REACH A SWAMPY RIVER.
October 13.
At 3 1/4 miles we came to a river of very irregular width and which, as I found on further examination, spread into broad lagoons and swamps bordered with reeds. Where we first approached it the bank was high and firm, the water forming a broad reach evidently very deep. But both above and below that point the stream, actually flowing, seemed fordable and we tried it in various places, but the bottom was everywhere soft and swampy.
A MAN DROWNED.
The man whom I usually employed on these occasions was James Taylor who had charge of the horses and who, on this unfortunate morning, was fated to lose his life in that swampy river. Taylor, or Tally-ho, as the other men called him, had been brought up in a hunting stable in England, and was always desirous of going further than I was willing to allow him, relying too much, as it now appeared, on his skill in swimming his horse, which I had often before prevented him from doing. I had on this occasion recalled him from different parts of the river, and determined to use the boat and swim the cattle and horses to the other side, when Tally-ho proposed to swim over on a horse in order to ascertain where the opposite bank was most favourable for the cattle to get out. I agreed to his crossing thus wherever he thought he could; and he rode towards a place which I conceived was by no means the best, and accordingly said so to him. I did not hear his reply, for he was just then riding into the water, and I could no longer see him from where I stood on the edge of a swampy hole. But scarcely a minute had elapsed when Burnett, going on foot to the spot, called out for all the men who could dive, at the same time exclaiming "the man's gone!" The horse came out with the bridle on his neck just as I reached the water's edge, but of poor Tally-ho I saw only the cap floating on the river. Four persons were immediately in the water--Piper, his gin, and two whites--and at six or eight minutes at most Piper brought the body up from the bottom. It was quite warm and immediately almost all the means recommended in such cases were applied by our medical attendant (Drysdale) who, having come from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, had seen many cases of that description. For three hours the animal heat was preserved by chafing the body, and during the whole of that time the lungs were alternately inflated and compressed, but all without success. With a sincerity of grief which must always pervade the breasts of men losing one of their number under such circumstances, we consigned the body of poor Taylor to a deep grave, the doctor having previously laid it out between two large sheets of bark. I was myself confounded with the most heart-felt sorrow when I turned from the grave of poor Tally-ho, never to hear his bugle blast again.* It was late before we commenced the passage of this fatal river which, although apparently narrow, we could only cross in the same manner in which we had passed the largest, namely, by swimming the cattle and horses, and carrying every article of equipment across in the boat. We effected even thus however the passage of the whole party before sunset; and then encamped on the opposite bank.