Two oars only were used in the whale-boat, to the stern of which the skiff was fastened by a rope; but the progress of the party down the river was rapid. Having passed, in the midst of the marshes, the mouth of a considerable stream (supposed to be the Lachlan, here emptying its waters out from the midst of those swamps wherein it appeared to Mr. Oxley to be lost,) on the second day of their journey the voyagers met with an accident that had nearly compelled them to return. The skiff struck upon a sunken log, and, immediately filling, went down in about twelve feet of water. Damage was done to some of the provisions, and many tools were thrown overboard, though these were afterwards regained by means of diving and great labour, and the skiff was got up again. In the very same night a robbery was committed by the natives; and a frying-pan, three cutlasses, and five tomahawks, with the pea of the steelyards—altogether no small loss in the Australian desert—were carried off. The country in this part is “a waving expanse of reeds, and as flat as possible,” and the river, instead of increasing in its downward course, seemed rather to be diminishing. After some days, however, the party had passed through this flooded region, and reached a boundless flat, with no object for the eye to rest upon, beyond the dark and gloomy woods by which it was occupied. Several rapids occurred in the river; and, during great part of two days the channel was so narrow and so much blocked up with huge trees, that, in spite of every effort, the adventurers were expecting their boat every moment to strike. For two hours in the afternoon of the second of these days of anxiety, the little vessels were hurried rapidly along the winding reaches of the Morrumbidgee, until suddenly they found themselves borne upon the bosom of a broad and noble river, in comparison with which that which they had just quitted bore the appearance of an insignificant opening! The width of the large stream thus discovered was about 350 feet, and its depth from 12 to 20 feet, whilst its banks, although averaging 18 feet in height, were evidently subject to floods. The breadth of rich soil between its outer and inner banks was very inconsiderable, and the upper levels were poor and sandy. As the party descended, the adjoining country became somewhat higher and a little undulating, and natives were seen, while the Murray (for such was the name given to their new discovery) improved upon them every mile they proceeded. Four natives of a tribe with which they had met followed them, as guides, for some distance, and, after having nearly lost their largest boat upon a rock in the midst of a rapid, the British travellers continued their onward course, and a sail was hoisted for the first time, in order to save, as much as was possible, the strength of the men.
The country in this part of their voyage was again very low, and they fell in with a large body of savages, with whom they were on the point of being forced, in self-defence, to have a deadly encounter, when suddenly the four natives who had accompanied them appeared running at full speed, and, through their assistance, though not without some difficulty, bloodshed was prevented. Very shortly after this adventure, when the men had just pushed their boat off from a shoal, upon which it had struck, they noticed a new and considerable stream coming from the north, and uniting its waters with those of the Murray. Upon landing on the right bank of the newly-discovered stream, the natives came swimming over from motives of curiosity; and there were not less than 600 of these, belonging to some of the most ferocious tribes in Australia, surrounding eight Englishmen—Captain Sturt, his friend MʻLeay, and the crew—which last had been preserved by an almost miraculous intervention of Providence in their favour. The boat was afterwards pulled a few miles up the recently-discovered river, which is reasonably supposed to have been the Darling, from whose banks, some hundreds of miles higher up, Captain Sturt had twice been forced to retire in a former expedition. Its sides were sloping and grassy, and overhung by magnificent trees; in breadth it was about 100 yards, and in depth rather more than twelve feet, and the men pleased themselves by exclaiming, upon entering it, that they had got into an English river. A net extending right across the stream at length checked their progress; for they were unwilling to disappoint the numbers who were expecting their food that day from this source. So the men rested on their oars in the midst of the smooth current of the Darling, the Union-Jack was hoisted, and, giving way to their feelings, all stood up in the boat, and gave three distinct cheers. “The eye of every native along the banks had been fixed upon that noble flag, at all times a beautiful object,” says Captain Sturt, “and to them a novel one, as it waved over us in the heart of a desert. They had, until that moment, been particularly loquacious, but the sight of that flag and the sound of our voices hushed the tumult; and while they were still lost in astonishment, the boat’s head was speedily turned, the sail was sheeted home, both wind and current were in our favour, and we vanished from them with a rapidity that surprised even ourselves, and which precluded every hope of the most adventurous among them to keep up with us.”[25]
Cheered with the gratification of national feeling thus powerfully described, the patient crew returned to their toils in descending the Murray, whose banks continued unchanged for some distance; but its channel was much encumbered with timber, some very large sand-banks were seen, and several rapids were passed. The skiff being found more troublesome than useful, was broken up and burned. On one occasion, during a friendly interview with some of the savages, some clay was piled up, as a means of inquiring whether there were any hills near; and two or three of the blacks, catching the meaning, pointed to the N. W., in which direction two lofty ranges were seen from the top of a tree, and were supposed to be not less than 40 miles distant, but the country through which the Murray passed still continued low.
The heat was excessive and the weather very dry, while the banks of the river appeared to be thickly peopled for Australia, and the British strangers contrived to keep upon good terms with the natives. After having passed one solitary cliff of some height, they met with stormy weather for a few days, and several tributary streams of some size were perceived mingling their waters with those of the Murray, the left bank of which became extremely lofty, and, though formed almost wholly of clay and sand, it bore the appearance of columns or battlements, the sand having been washed away in many places, while the clay was left hollowed out more like the work of art than of nature. After a continued descent of 22 days, the party, who were pleased with the noble character of the river upon which they were, though disappointed at the poverty of the country through which it passed, began to grow somewhat weary; but upon inquiries being made of the natives no tidings could be gained respecting their approach towards the sea. The navigation of every natural stream is rendered tedious, though beautiful, by its devious course, but, “what with its regular turns, and its extensive sweeps, the Murray covers treble the ground, at a moderate computation, that it would occupy in a direct course.” The current became weaker, and the channel deeper, as they proceeded down the stream, and the cliffs of clay and sand were succeeded by others of a very curious formation, being composed of shells closely compacted together, but having the softer parts so worn away, that the whole cliff bore in many places the appearance of human skulls piled one upon the other. At first, this remarkable formation did not rise more than a foot above the water, but within ten miles from this spot it exceeded 150 feet in height, the country in the vicinity became undulating, and the river itself was confined in a glen whose extreme breadth did not exceed half a mile. An old man, a native, was met with hereabouts, who appeared by his signs to indicate that the explorers were at no great distance from some remarkable change. The old man pointed to the N. W., and then placed his hand on the side of his head, in token, it was supposed, of their sleeping to the N. W. of the spot where they were. He then pointed due south, describing by his action, the roaring of the sea, and the height of the waves. A line of cliffs, from two to three hundred feet in height, flanked the river upon alternate sides, but the rest of the country was level, and the soil upon the table-land at the top of the cliffs very poor and sterile. The next change of scenery brought them to cliffs of a higher description, which continued on both sides of the river, though not always close to it. The stream lost its sandy bed and its current together, and became deep, still, and turbid, with a muddy bottom; and the appearance of the water lashing against the base of the cliffs reminded the anxious voyagers of the sea. The scenery became in many places beautiful, and the river was never less than 400 yards in breadth. Some sea-gulls were seen flying over the boat, and being hailed as the messengers of good tidings, they were not permitted to be shot. The adverse wind and the short, heavy waves rendered the labour at the oar very laborious, but the hope of speedily gaining some noble inlet—a harbour worthy to form the mouth of a stream like the Murray—encouraged the crew to pull on manfully, and to disregard fatigue. The salt meat was all spoiled, and had been given to the dogs; fish no one would eat, and of wild fowl there was none to be seen; so that the provisions of the party consisted of little else but flour. And already, though hitherto they had been performing the easiest part of their task, having had the stream in their favour, it was evident that the men were much reduced, besides which they were complaining of sore eyes.
These circumstances all combined to increase the natural anxiety felt by the little band of adventurers to reach the termination of the Murray; and as its valley opened to two, three, and four miles of breadth, while the width of the river increased to the third of a mile, the expectations of the men toiling at the oar became proportionably excited. The cliffs ceased, and gave place to undulating hills; no pleasure-ground could have been more tastefully laid out than the country to the right, and the various groups of trees, disposed upon the sides of the elevations that bounded the western side of the valley, were most ornamental. On the opposite side, the country was less inviting, and the hills were bleak and bare. At length a clear horizon appeared to the south, the direction in which the river was flowing; Captain Sturt landed to survey the country, and beneath him was the great object of his search, the termination of one of Australia’s longest and largest streams. Immediately below him was a beautiful lake, of very large extent, and greatly agitated by the wind. Ranges of hills were observed to the westward, stretching from north to south, and distant forty miles. Between these hills and the place where the traveller stood, the western bank of the Murray was continued in the form of a beautiful promontory projecting into the lake, and between this point and the base of the ranges the vast sheet of water before him extended in the shape of a bay. The scene was altogether a very fine one; but disappointment was a prevailing feeling in the mind of the explorer, for it was most likely that there would be no practicable communication for large ships between the lake and the ocean, and thus a check was put upon the hopes that had been entertained of having at length discovered a large and navigable river leading into the interior of New Holland. The lake, called Lake Alexandrina, which was fifty miles long and forty broad,[26] was crossed with the assistance of a favourable wind; its waters were found to be generally very shallow, and the long, narrow, and winding channel by which it communicates with the ocean was found, as it had been feared, almost impracticable even for the smallest vessels. This channel unites itself with the sea on the south-western coast of New Holland, at the bottom of a bay named Encounter Bay, one boundary of which is Cape Jervis, by which it is separated from St. Vincent’s Gulph,—the very part of the coast where a ship was to be despatched by the Governor of New South Wales to afford the party assistance, in case of their being successful in penetrating to the sea-shore. Flour and tea were the only articles remaining of their store of provisions, and neither of these were in sufficient quantities to last them to the place where they expected to find fresh supplies inland. But the first view of Encounter Bay convinced them that no vessel could ever venture into it at a season when the S. W. winds prevailed, and to the deep bight which it formed upon the coast (at the bottom of which they then were), it was hopeless to expect any vessel to approach so nearly as to be seen by them. To remain there was out of the question; to cross the ranges towards the Gulph of St. Vincent, when the men had no strength to walk, and the natives were numerous and not peaceably disposed, was equally impossible. The passage from the lake to the ocean was not without interruption, from the shallowness of the sandy channel, otherwise Captain Sturt, in his little boat, would have coasted round to Port Jackson, or steered for Launceston, in Van Dieman’s Land; and this he declares he would rather have done, could he have foreseen future difficulties, than follow the course which he did. Having walked across to the entrance of the channel, and found it quite impracticable and useless, he resolved to return along the same route by which he had come, only with these important additional difficulties to encounter,—diminished strength, exhausted stores, and an adverse current. The provisions were found sufficient only for the same number of days upon their return as they had occupied in descending the river, and speed was no less desirable in order to avoid encounters with the natives than for the purpose of escaping the miseries of want; into which, however, it was felt, a single untoward accident might in an instant plunge them. With feelings of this description the party left Lake Alexandrina and re-entered the channel of the Murray.
It will be needless to follow the explorers through all the particulars of their journey upwards to the depôt on the Morrumbidgee. The boat struck, the natives were troublesome, the rapids difficult to get over; but the worst of all their toils and trials were their daily labours and unsatisfied wants. One circumstance ought, in justice to the character of the men, to be noticed. They positively refused to touch six pounds of sugar that were still remaining in the cask, declaring that, if divided, it would benefit nobody, whereas it would last during some time for the use of Captain Sturt and Mr. MʻLeay, who were less able to submit to privations than they were. After having continued for no less than fifty-five days upon the waters of the Murray, it was with great joy that they quitted this stream, and turned their boat into the gloomy and narrow channel of the Morrumbidgee. Having suffered much privation, anxiety, and labour, and not without one or two unpleasant encounters with the natives, at length the party reached their depôt, but they found it deserted! During seventy-seven days they could not have pulled, according to Captain Sturt’s calculation, less than 2000 miles; and now, worn out by fatigue and want, they were compelled to proceed yet further, and to endure, for some time longer, the most severe privations to which man can be exposed. But, under the guidance of Divine Providence, the lives of all were preserved, and now the reward of their deeds of heroism is willingly bestowed upon them. Among the boldest exploits ever performed by man, the descent of Captain Sturt and his companions down the Murray, and their return to the same spot again, may deserve to be justly ranked.[27] Nor, however disappointing the result of their examination of the mouth of the Murray may have been, was their daring adventure without its useful consequences. The lake Alexandrina is said to be navigable across for vessels drawing six feet of water, and the entrance to the sea, though rather difficult in heavy weather, is safe in moderate weather for vessels of the same size. The Murray itself is navigable for steam-vessels for many hundred miles, and probably it will not be very long before these modern inventions are introduced upon its waters.
Whoever has seen any recent map of New Holland must have been struck with the curious appearance of a vast semicircle of water, called Lake Torrens, near the southern coast, and extending many miles inland from the head of Spencer’s Gulph. A range of hills, named Flinders’ Range, runs to a considerable distance inland, taking its rise near the head of the gulph just mentioned, and Lake Torrens nearly surrounds the whole of the low country extending from this mountainous ridge. This immense lake is supposed to resemble in shape a horse-shoe, and to extend for full 400 miles, whilst its apparent breadth is from 20 to 30. The greater part of the vast area contained in its bed is certainly dry on the surface, and consists of a mixture of sand and mud, of so soft and yielding a character as to render perfectly unavailing all attempts either to cross it, or to reach the edge of the water, which appears to exist at a distance of some miles from the outer margin. Once only was Mr. Eyre, the enterprising discoverer of this singular lake, able to taste of its waters, and then he found them as salt as the sea. The low, miserable, desert country in the neighbourhood, and Lake Torrens itself, act as a kind of barrier against the progress of inland discovery at the back of the colony of South Australia, since it is impossible to penetrate very far into the interior, without making a great circle either to the east or to the west. The portion of the bed of the lake which is exposed is thickly coated with particles of salt; there are few trees or shrubs of any kind to be found near, nor are grass and fresh water by any means abundant. Altogether, the neighbourhood of Lake Torrens would seem a very miserable region, and forms a strong contrast to the smiling and cultivated district of which it forms the back country.[28]
Although Australia, in its natural and uncultivated state, abounds in trees, like most other wild countries, nevertheless, there are vast and extensive tracts where the plains are entirely bare, or covered only with a low, thick, and often prickly, bush, or else are what is termed “open forest,” that is, are dotted about with fine trees, dispersed in various groups, and resembling the scenery of an English park. The greatest peculiarity of the native forests appears to be, that the whole of their trees and shrubs are evergreen,[29] although European trees will flourish in the land of the south without acquiring this peculiarity, or losing their deciduous character. But it is rather a subject of complaint against the woods of New Holland, that they have very little picturesque effect in them, which may be partly owing to the poverty of the foliage of the prevailing tree, the eucalyptus, (commonly called the iron-bark, or blue gum, according to its species,) which seldom has anything ornamental to landscape, either in the trunk or branches. These sombre trees are, however, very useful for timber, and they grow to an astonishing height, often rearing up their lofty heads to 150 feet or upwards. The woods, in general, are very brittle, partly, it may be, owing to the number of acacias which are to be found among them; and no experienced bushman likes to sleep under trees, especially during high winds. We must by no means form our ideas of the appearance of an Australian forest from that of the neat and trim woods of our own country, where every single branch or bough, and much more every tree, bears a certain value. Except that portion which is required for fuel or materials by an extremely scattered population in a very mild climate, there is nothing carried off from the forests, and, were it not for the frequent and destructive fires which the natives kindle in many parts, no check worth mentioning would be placed upon the natural increase and decay of the woods of New Holland. The consequence of this is, that trees are to be seen there in every stage of growth or ruin; and, occasionally, in very thickly-planted spots, the surface of the ground is not a little encumbered by the fallen branches and trunks of the ancient ornaments of the forest. Nor is it by the hand of Time alone that these marks of destruction are scattered about in the vast woodlands; the breath of a tremendous storm will occasionally accomplish, perhaps, as much in a few hours as natural decay would in many years.[30] Altogether, the forests of Australia may be said to be in a purely natural state, and thus do they offer to the eye of the inquiring traveller many objects less pleasing, it may be, but nevertheless more sublime and solemn, than those with which the woods of more cultivated countries commonly abound.
To travel without any beaten track through a country clothed, in many parts, very thickly, by forests like those just described, is in itself no easy undertaking, and the operation of hewing a way for a mile or two through the surrounding woods, during the very heat of the day, and sometimes after a long march, is very trying. But when the exposure to burning thirst, and to the uncertain disposition of the native inhabitants is added, the patient endurance of successful explorers is still more strongly displayed. Nor, although it be only a minor annoyance, must the pain and inconvenience felt by wanderers in the bush from the prickly grass, which is found abundantly in the sandy districts, be forgotten. In those barren sands, where no grass grows, there are frequently tufts of a prickly bush, which tortures the horses, and tears to pieces the clothes of the men about their ankles, if they are walking. This bush, called the prickly grass, and a dwarf tree, the Eucalyptus dumosa, grows only where the soil appears too barren and loose for anything else; indeed, were it not for these, the sand would probably drift away, and cover the vegetation of neighbouring spots less barren and miserable. Against this evil, nature seems to have provided by the presence of two plants so singularly fitted for a soil of this description. The root of the Eucalyptus dumosa resembles that of a large tree; but it has no trunk, and only a few branches rise above the ground, forming an open kind of bush, often so low that a man on horseback may look over it for miles. This dwarf tree, and the prickly grass together, occupy the ground, and seem intended to bind down the sands of Australia. The size of the roots prevents the bush from growing very close together, and the stems being without leaves, except at the top, this kind of Eucalyptus is almost proof against the running fires of the bush. The prickly grass resembles, at a distance, in colour and form, an overgrown lavender plant, but the blades of it, consisting of sharp spikes, occasion most cruel annoyance both to men and horses. Another inconvenience and danger to which exploring parties are liable, are those fires in the bush already alluded to; which, whether caused by accident, or designedly by the natives, are not uncommon events.[31] “The country seemed all on fire around us.”—“All the country beyond the river was in flames; one spark might have set the whole country on our side in a blaze, and then no food would remain for the cattle, not to mention the danger to our stores and ammunition.” “Fires prevailed extensively at great distances in the interior, and the sultry air seemed heated by the general conflagration;” these expressions convey rather alarming ideas of the dangers to which travellers are exposed in the bush, and from which it is not always easy to make good an escape.
It may have been observed, possibly, in what has been related of the country and scenery of New Holland in its natural state, that the descriptions of very beautiful or fertile spots have been comparatively few. Now, although it is true that a very large portion of the known surface of that island is occupied by the sandstone rock, which is in its very nature utterly barren, nevertheless, it is by no means to be supposed that there is any scarcity of most rich and beautiful land—some of it fit for immediate occupation—to be found in most parts of Australia. In attempting to draw a picture of a distant and remarkable region, we are almost sure to mark and bring distinctly out its most peculiar and striking features; the scenes resembling those of our own quiet and happy land are passed over as tame and familiar, while the dreariness of the desert, the horrors of a “barren and dry land where no water is,”—the boundless plains, or the bare mountain-tops, the lonely shore or the rocky isle—scenes like these, are commonly dwelt upon and described. In short, the very spots which are least enticing, in reality, for the colonist to settle in, are often most agreeable, in description, for the stranger to read of.