CHAPTER VI.

THE DEPOT

FURTHER PROGRESS CHECKED

CHARACTER OF THE RANGES

JOURNEY TO THE NORTH-EAST

RETURN

JOURNEY TO THE WEST

RETURN

AGAIN PROCEED TO THE NORTH

INTERVIEW WITH NATIVES

ARRIVE AT THE FARTHEST WATER

THE PARTY SEPARATES

PROGRESS NORTHWARDS

CONTINUE TO ADVANCE

SUFFERINGS OF THE HORSE

CROSS THE 28TH PARALLEL

REJOIN MR. STUART

JOURNEY TO THE WESTWARD

CHARACTER OF THE COUNTRY

FIND TWO PONDS OF WATER

THE GRASSY PARK

RETURN TO THE RANGE

EXCESSIVE HEAT

A SINGULAR GEOLOGICAL FEATURE

REGAIN THE DEPOT.

As the reader will have learnt from what I have stated at the conclusion of the last chapter, we pitched our tents at the place to which I have led him, and which I shall henceforth call the "Depot," on the 27th of January, 1845. They were not struck again until the 17th of July following.

The Depot Glen

This ruinous detention paralyzed the efforts and enervated the strength of the expedition, by constitutionally affecting both the men and animals, and depriving them of the elasticity and energy with which they commenced their labours. It was not however until after we had run down every creek in our neighbourhood, and had traversed the country in every direction, that the truth flashed across my mind, and it became evident to me, that we were locked up in the desolate and heated region, into which we had penetrated, as effectually as if we had wintered at the Pole. It was long indeed ere I could bring myself to believe that so great a misfortune had overtaken us, but so it was. Providence had, in its allwise purposes, guided us to the only spot, in that wide-spread desert, where our wants could have been permanently supplied, but had there stayed our further progress into a region that almost appears to be forbidden ground. The immediate effect, however, of our arrival at the Depot, was to relieve my mind from anxiety as to the safety of the party.

There was now no fear of our encountering difficulties, and perhaps perishing from the want of that life-sustaining element, without which our efforts would have been unavailing, for independently of the beautiful sheet of water, on the banks of which the camp was established, there was a small lagoon to the S. E.of us, and around it there was a good deal of feed, besides numerous water-holes in the rocky gully. The creek was marked by a line of gum-trees, from the mouth of the glen to its junction with the main branch, in which, excepting in isolated spots, water was no longer to be found. The Red Hill (afterwards called Mount Poole), bore N. N. W.from us, distant 3 1/2 miles; between us and it there were undulating plains, covered with stones or salsolaceous herbage, excepting in the hollows, wherein there was a little grass. Behind us were level stony plains, with small sandy undulations, bounded by brush, over which the Black Hill, bearing S. S. E.from the Red Hill, was visible, distant 10 miles. To the eastward the country was, as I have described it, hilly.

Westward at a quarter of a mile the low range, through which Depot Creek forces itself, shut out from our view the extensive plains on which it rises. This range extended longitudinally nearly north and south, but was nowhere more than a mile and a half in breadth. The geological formation of the range was slate, traversed by veins of quartz, its interstices being filled with magnesian limestone. Steep precipices and broken rugged gullies alternated on either side of this creek, and in its bed there were large slabs of beautiful slate. The precipices shewed the lateral formation with the rock split into the finest laminae, terminating in sharp points. But neither on the ranges or on the plains behind the camp was there any feed for the cattle, neither were the banks of the creek or its neighbourhood to be put in comparison with Flood's Creek in this respect, for around it there was an abundance as well as a variety of herbage. Still the vegetation on the Depot Creek was vigorous, and different kinds of seeds were to be procured.

I would dwell on this fact the more forcibly, because I shall, at a future stage of this journey, have to remark on the state of the vegetation at this very spot, that is to say, when the expedition was on its return from the interior at the close of the year.

A few days after we had settled ourselves at the Depot, Mr. Browne had a serious attack of illness, that might have proved fatal; but it pleased God to restore him to health and reserve him for future usefulness. At this time, too, the men generally complained of rheumatism, and I suspected that I was not myself altogether free from that depressing complaint, since I had violent pains in my hip joints; but I attributed them to my having constantly slept on the hard ground, and frequently in the bed of some creek or other. It eventually proved, however, that I had been attacked by a more fearful malady than rheumatism in its worst stage.

There being no immediate prospect of our removal, I determined to complete the charts up to thepoint to which we had penetrated. I therefore sent Mr. Stuart, on the 2nd February, to sketch in the ranges to the eastward, and connect them with the hills I had lately crossed over. I directed Lewis, who had been in the survey, to assist Mr. Stuart, and sent Flood with them to trace down the creek I had noticed from several of our stations on the northern ranges, as passing through a gap in the hills to the eastward. They returned to the camp on the 4th, Mr. Stuart having been very diligent in his work. Flood had also obeyed my orders; but could find no water in the lower branches of the creek, although there was so much in it nearer the hills. The party had fallen in with a small tribe of natives, for whom Flood had shot an emu. Mr. Stuart informed me that they were very communicative; but their language was unknown to him. He understood from them that they intended to visit the camp in a couple of days; but as I had some doubts on this head, and was anxious to establish a communication, and induce them to return with me to the camp, I rode on the 5th with Mr.

Browne across the plain, at the farther extremity of which they were encamped near a little muddy puddle. Flood and Joseph in the light cart accompanied us.

Great as the heat had been, it appeared rather to increase than diminish. The wind constantly blew from the E. S. E. in the morning, with the deep purple tint to the west I have already had occasion to notice. It then went round with the sun, and blew heavily at noon; but gradually subsided to a calm at sunset, and settled in the west, the same deep tint being then visible above the eastern horizon which in the morning had been seen in the west. The thermometer ranged from 100 degrees to 117 degrees in the shade at 3 p.m.; the barometer from 29.300 degrees to 29.100 degrees. Water boiled at 211 degrees and a fraction; but there was no dew point. I should have stated, that both whilst Mr. Browne and I were in the hills and at the camp, there was thunder and rain on the 23rd, 24th, and 25th, but the showers were too light even to lay the dust, and had no effect whatever on the temperature.

The morning we started to pay a visit to the blacks was more than usually oppressive even at daybreak, and about 9 it blew a hot wind from the N. E. As we rode across the stony plain lying between us and the hills, the heated and parching blasts that came upon us were more than we could bear. We were in the centre of the plain, when Mr. Browne drew my attention to a number of small black specks in the upper air. These spots increasing momentarily in size, were evidently approaching us rapidly. In an incredibly short time we were surrounded by several hundreds of the common kite, stooping down to within a few feet of us, and then turning away, after having eyed us steadily. Several approached us so closely, that they threw themselves back to avoid contact, opening their beaks and spreading out their talons. The long flight of these birds, reaching from the ground into the heavens, put me strongly in mind of one of Martin's beautiful designs, in which he produces the effect of distance by a multitude of objects gradually vanishing from the view.

Whatever the reader may think, these birds had a most formidable aspect, and were too numerous for us to have overpowered, if they had really attacked us. That they came down to see what unusual object was wandering across the lonely deserts over which they soar, in the hope of prey, there can be no doubt; but seeing that we were likely to prove formidable antagonists, they wheeled from us in extensive sweeps, and were soon lost to view in the lofty region from whence they had descended.

When we reached the place where the natives had been, we were disappointed in not finding them. They had, however, covered up their fires and left their nets, as if with the intention of returning. Nevertheless we missed them, and reached the tents late in the evening, after a ride of 40 miles.

After my return from this excursion, I was busily employed filling-in the charts; but the ink in our pens dried so rapidly, that we were obliged to have an underground room constructed to work in, and it proved of infinite service and comfort, insomuch that the air in it was generally from 7 degrees to 8 degrees cooler than that of the outer air.

Lake Torrens

Our observations and lunars placed us in latitude 29 degrees 40 minutes 14 seconds S., and in longitude 141 degrees 30 minutes 41 seconds E. Mount Hopeless, therefore, bore W.by S.{N. N. W.in published text} of us, as we were still 7 miles to the north of it {25 MILES TO THE SOUTH OF IT in published text}, the difference of longitude being about 110 {171 in published text} miles, and our distance from the eastern shore of Lake Torrens about 85 {120 in published text}. The result of our lunars, however, placed us somewhat to the westward of the longitude I have given; and when I came to try my angles back from the Depot to Williorara, I found that they terminated considerably to the westward of Sir Thomas Mitchell's position there. My lunars at Williorara, however, had not been satisfactory, and I therefore gave that officer credit for correctness, and in the first chart I transmitted to the Secretary of State assumed his position to be correct. There was a small range, distant about 20 miles to the westward of the stony range connected with the Depot Creek.

It struck me that we might from them obtain a distant view of Mount Serle, or see some change of country favourable to my future views. Under this impression, I left the camp on the 7th of the month, with Mr. Poole and two of the men. The ranges were at a greater distance than I had imagined, but were of trifling elevation, and on arriving at them I found that the horizon to the westward was still closed from my view, by rising ground that intervened. I should have pushed on for it, but Mr. Poole was unfortunately taken ill, and I felt it necessary to give him my own horse, as having easier paces than the one he was riding. It was with difficulty I got him on his way back to the camp as far as the upper waterhole, just outside the Rocky Glen, at which we slept, and by that means reached the tents early on the following morning. I had anticipated rain before we should get back, from the masses of heavy clouds that rose to the westward, after the wind, which had been variable, had settled in that quarter; but they were dispersed during the night, and the morning of the 8th was clear and warm.

We had felt it exceedingly hot the day we left the camp--there the men were oppressed with intolerable heat, the thermometer having risen to 112 degrees in the shade. We had not ourselves felt the day so overpowering, probably because we were in motion, and it is likely that a temporary change in the state of the atmosphere, had influenced the temperature, as the eastern horizon was banded by thunder clouds, though not so heavy as those to the westward, and there was a good deal of lightning in that quarter.

I have said that I was not satisfied with the result of my last excursion with Mr. Browne to the north. I could not but think that we had approached to within a tangible distance of an inland sea, from the extreme depression and peculiar character of the country we traversed. I determined, therefore, to make another attempt to penetrate beyond the point already gained, and to ascertain the nature of the interior there; making up my mind at the same time to examine the country both to the eastward and westward of the northern ranges before I should return to the camp. Mr. Poole and Mr. Browne being too weak to venture on a protracted excursion of such a kind, I took Mr. Stuart, my draftsman, with me. I should have delayed this excursion for a few days, however, only that I feared the total failure of the creeks in the distant interior; I proposed, in the first place, to make for the last and most distant water-hole in the little creek beyond the ranges. Thence to take the light cart with one horse, carrying as much water as he could draw, and with one man, on foot, to pursue a due north course into the brush.

I hoped by this arrangement to gain the 27th parallel, and in so doing to satisfy myself as to the point on which I was so anxious. I selected a fine young lad to accompany me, named Joseph Cowley, because I felt some confidence in his moral courage in the event of any disaster befalling us. On this occasion I had the tank reconstructed, and took all the barrels I could, to enable me to go as far as possible, and the day after I returned to the camp with Mr. Poole, again left it with Mr. Stuart, Joseph, and Flood, in whose charge I intended to leave my horse during my absence--during which I also proposed that Mr. Stuart should employ his time tracing in the hills.

We reached the muddy creek at the foot of the hills at 2 p.m., after a ride of 25 miles, over the stony and barren plains I have described, and as the distance to the next water was too great for us to attempt reaching it until late, we stopped here for the night. Some natives had been on the creek in the early part of the day, and had apparently moved down it to the eastward. The water had diminished fearfully since the time we passed on our return from the north.

The day was cool and pleasant, as the wind blew from the south, and the thermometer did not rise above 95 degrees.

We had not ridden four miles on the following morning, when we observed several natives on the plain at a little distance to the south, to whom we called out, and who immediately came to us. We stopped with these people for more than two hours, in the hope that we should gain some information from them, either as to when we might expect rain, or of the character of the distant interior, but they spoke a language totally different from the river tribes, although they had some few words in common, so that I could not rely on my interpretation of what they said. They were all of them circumcised, and all but one wanted the right front tooth of the upper jaw. When we left these people I gave them a note for Mr. Poole, in the faint hope that they would deliver it, and I explained to them that he would give them a tomahawk and blankets, but, as I afterwards learnt, they never went to the camp.

When Mr. Browne and I were in this neighbourhood before, he had some tolerable sport shooting the new pigeon, the flesh of which was most delicious. At that time they were feeding upon the seed of the rice grass, and were scattered about, but we now found them, as well as many other birds, congregated in vast numbers preparing to migrate to the north-east, apparently their direct line of migration; they were comparatively wild, so that our only chance of procuring any was when they came to water.

On the 9th we slept at the water in the creek at the top of the ranges; but, on the 10th, instead of going through the pass, and by the valley, under the two little peaks, through which we had entered the plains on the first journey, we now turned to the westward in order to avoid that rugged line, and discovered that the creek, instead of losing itself in the flat to the eastward, continued on a westerly course to our left; for being attracted by a flight of pigeons, wheeling round some gum-trees, we might otherwise have overlooked it; I sent Flood to examine the ground, who returned with the pleasing information that the creek had reformed, and that there was a pool of water under the trees, nearly as large as the one we had just left.

I was exceedingly pleased at this discovery and determined to send Mr. Stuart back to it, as it would place him nearer his work. We reached the farthest water, from which we had the second time driven the poor native, late in the afternoon, and on examining the hut, found he had ventured back to it and taken away his traps; but the water in the creek was almost dried up; thick, muddy, and putrid, we could hardly swallow it, and I regretted that we had not brought water with us from the hills, but I had been influenced by a desire to spare my poor horse, as I knew the task that was before him, although the poor brute was little aware of it. About sunset an unfortunate emu came to water, and unconsciously approached us so near that Flood shot it with his fusee. This was a solitary wanderer, for we had seen very few either of these birds or kangaroos in these trackless solitudes.

On the morning of the 10th we were up early, and had loaded the cart with 69 gallons of water before breakfast, when Joseph and I took our departure, and Mr. Stuart with Flood returned to the hills. I had selected one of our best horses for this journey, an animal I had purchased from Mr. Frew of Adelaide. He was strong, powerful, and in good condition, therefore well qualified for the journey. I had determined on keeping a general north course, but in the kind of country in which I soon found myself it was impossible to preserve a direct line. At about four miles from the creek the brush became thick, and the country sandy, and at six miles the sand ridges commenced. Wishing to ease the horse as much as possible, Joseph endeavoured to round them by keeping on the intervening flats, but this necessarily lengthened the day's journey, and threw me more to the eastward than I had intended. A noon I halted for two hours, and then pushed on, the day being cool, with the wind as it had been for the last three or four days from the south. Had the country continued as it was, we might have got on tolerably, but as we advanced it changed greatly for the worse.

We lost the flats, on a general coating of sand thickly matted with spinifex, through which it was equally painful to ourselves and poor Punch to tread. We crossed small sandy basins or hollows, and were unable to see to any distance. The only trees growing in this terrible place were a few acacias in the hollows, and some straggling melaleuca, with hakeae and one or two other common shrubs, all of low growth; there was no grass, neither were the few herbs that grew on the hollows such as the horse would eat. We stopped a little after sunset, having journeyed about 22 miles, on a small flat on which there were a few acacias, and some low silky grass as dry as a chip, so that if we had not been provident in bringing some oats poor Punch would have gone without his supper. A meridian altitude of Capella placed us in lat.28 degrees 41 minutes 0 seconds. Our longitude by account being 141 degrees 15 minutes E.

When I rose at daylight on the following morning, I observed that the horse had eaten but little of the dry and withered food on which he had been tethered; however, in consequence of our tank leaking, I was enabled to give him a good drink, when he seemed to revive, but no sooner commenced pulling than he perspired most profusely. We kept a more regular course than on the previous day, over a country that underwent no change. Before we started I left a nine gallon cask of water in a small flat to ease the horse, and as the water in the tank had almost all leaked out, his load was comparatively light. Still it was a laborious task to draw the cart over such a country. Fortunately for us the weather was cool, as the wind continued south, for I do not know what we should have done if we had been exposed to the same heat Mr. Browne and myself had experienced on our return from the little stony ranges now about 10 miles to the westward of us. A little before noon the wind shifted to the N. E.

; I had at this time stopped to rest the horse, but we immediately experienced a change of temperature, and the thermometer which stood at 81 degrees rose before we again started to 93 degrees, and at half-past three had attained 119 degrees. We were then in one of the most gloomy regions that man ever traversed. The stillness of death reigned around us, no living creature was to be heard; nothing visible inhabited that dreary desert but the ant, even the fly shunned it, and yet its yielding surface was marked all over with the tracks of native dogs.

We started shortly after noon, and passed a pointed sand-hill, from whence we could not only see the stony range but also the main range of hills. The little peak on which Mr. Browne and I took bearings on our last journey bore 150 degrees, the pass through which we had descended into the plains 170 degrees, when I turned however to take bearings of the stony range it had disappeared, having been elevated by refraction above its true position. It bore about N. W. 1/2 W., distant from eight to nine miles. It was again some time after sunset before we halted, on a small flat that might contain two or at the most three acres. There was some silky grass upon it, but this I knew the horse would not eat, neither had I more than a pint of oats to give him. Our latitude here was 28 degrees 22 minutes 0 seconds.

On the morning of the 13th we still pushed on, leaving, as before, a cask of water to pick up on our return. I had been obliged to limit the horse to six gallons a day, but where he had been in the habit of drinking from 25 to 30, so small a quantity would not suffice. We had not gone many miles when he shewed symptoms of exhaustion, and rather tottered than walked. He took no pains to avoid anything, but threw Joseph into every bush he passed. The country still continued unchanged, sand and spinifex were the universal covering of the land, and only round the edges of the little flats were a few stunted shrubs to be seen. It was marvellous to me that such a country should extend to so great a distance without any change. I could at no time see beyond a mile in any direction. Several flights of parrots flew over our heads to the north-west, at such an elevation as led me to suppose they would not pitch near us; but not a bird of any kind did we see in the desert itself. The day being exceedingly hot I stopped at one, rather from necessity than inclination, having travelled 12 or 14 miles.

Both Joseph and myself had walked the whole way, and our legs were full of the sharp ends of the spinifex, but it was more in mercy to poor Punch than to ourselves that I pulled up, and held a consultation with Joseph as to the prudence of taking the cart any further, when it was decided that our doing so would infallibly lead to Punch's destruction. According to my calculation we were now in latitude 28 degrees 9 minutes 0 seconds or thereabouts. I had hoped to have advanced some 60 miles beyond this point, but now found that it would be impossible to do so. There was no indication of a change of country from any rising ground near us, and as it was still early in the day I resolved on pushing forward until I should feel satisfied that I had passed into the 27th parallel; my reason for this being a desire to know what the character of the country, so far in the interior from, and in the same parallel as Moreton Bay, would be.

I had intended tethering Punch out, and walking with Joseph, but as he remonstrated with me, and it did not appear that my riding him would do the horse any harm, I mounted, though without a saddle, and taking our guns, with a quart of water, we commenced our journey. We moved rapidly on, as I was anxious to return to the cart whilst there was yet daylight, to enable us to keep our tracks, but no material change took place in the aspect of the country. We crossed sand-ridge after sand-ridge only to meet disappointment, and I had just decided on turning, when we saw at the distance of about a quarter of a mile from us, a little rounded hill some few feet higher than any we had ascended. It was to little purpose however that we extended our ramble to it. At about a mile from where we left the cart, we had crossed two or three small plains, if pieces of ground not a quarter of a mile long might be so termed, on which rhagodia bushes were growing, and I had hoped that this trifling change would have led to a greater, but as I have stated such did not prove to be the case.

From the top of the little hill to which we walked (and from which we could see to a distance of six or eight miles, but it was difficult to judge how far the distant horizon was from us), there was no apparent change, but the brush in the distance was darker than that nearer to us, as if plains succeeded the sandy desert we had passed over. The whole landscape however was one of the most gloomy character, and I found myself obliged to turn from it in disappointment. As far as I could judge we passed about a mile beyond the 28th parallel. Our longitude by account only being 141 degrees 18 minutes E. The boiling point of water was 211 degrees 75/100. The evening had closed in before we got back to the cart, but our course was fortunately true, and having given poor Punch as liberal a draught as reason would justify we laid down to rest.

It was with great difficulty that we got our exhausted animal on, the following morning, although I again gave him as much water as I could spare. His docility under urgent want of food was astonishing. He was in fact troublesomely persevering, and walked round and round the cart and over us as we sat drinking our tea, smelling at the casks, and trying to get his nose into the bung holes, and implored for relief as much as an animal could do so by looks. Yet I am satisfied that a horse is not capable of strong attachment to man, but that he is a selfish brute, for however kindly he may be treated, where is the horse that will stay, like the dog, at the side of his master to the last, although hunger and thirst are upon him, and who, though carnivorous himself, will yet guard the hand that has fed him and expire upon its post? but, turn the horse loose at night, and where will you find him in the morning, though your life depended on his stay?

We reached the creek on the morning of the 14th, about half-past 10, having still a gallon of water remaining, that was literally better than the water in the muddy puddle from which we had originally taken it. I had thought it probable that we might find either Flood or Mr. Stuart awaiting our return, but not seeing any trace of recent feet I concluded they were in the ranges, and as the distance was too great for the horse to travel in a day, in his exhausted state, I pushed on at 4 p.m., and halted on the plains after having ridden about 6 miles. It was well indeed that I did so, for we did not gain the ranges until near sunset on the following day. Our exhausted horse could hardly drag one leg after the other, although he pricked up his ears and for a time quickened his pace as he fell into the track of the cart coming out. Both Mr. Stuart and Flood were astonished at the manner in which he had fallen off, nor did he ever after recover from the effects of that journey.