Friday, April 18.
Camp 40. First thing in the morning got the horses and started Middleton and Palmer to endeavour to trace the unfortunate man Kirby who has not made his appearance. He must have had a bitter cold night of it; this morning south wind was as cold or colder than I have felt it for twelve months—we were glad to get to the fire besides fortifying ourselves with warmer clothing than usual. I with Poole started to cut his tracks if he came out through the range on his course through open country south of this, but were unsuccessful in finding any trace of him. Middleton and Palmer got on his tracks and followed them to about dark when within a very short distance of our tracks here, and more than half the distance to this camp, and thought it not improbable, from the course he was then pursuing, that he had got to our camp and came home but the unfortunate had not; had he been followed the day before by Hodgkinson with the same perseverance all would have been well and much anxiety spared to all. If the poor man has kept to the ranges I'm afraid there is little hopes of him—it will be a sad end for the poor fellow—a better man for his occupation could not be found. Just fancy an unfortunate man lost between two and three hundred miles from the coast in a perfect wild with twenty-three sheep (and I question if he has any matches) left to sink or swim beyond reach of any Christian soul. If he is recovered he may thank God. Will still keep up the search for some days to come in hopes of recovering him. Camp bearing 208 1/2 degrees about four and a half miles; furthest north point visible of McKinlay's Range 304 degrees, from thirty to forty miles. No range visible between that and 18 1/2 degrees. Nothing but heavily timbered creeks, innumerable tributaries from both sides and south end. Exact course of main creek not positively discernible, but for the first twenty miles from camp it bears much east, from Observation Hill it appears as far east as 3 degrees—termination of McKinlay's Range as visible from camp on bearing 341 degrees. Furthest southern point of McKinlay's Range as visible from Observation Hill 214 degrees. Some miles beyond the watershed south, hill where watershed takes place about six miles from camp bears from the Hill Observation 216 degrees from camp.
Saturday, April 19.
Horses sent for per first light; night very cold again. Not having had anything in the shape of food since the morning Kirby was lost, except a couple or three spoonfuls of flour each in water, I determined, Kirby not yet arriving, to kill one of our bullocks; had them up to camp and shot one in the grey of the morning; three now remaining; in the event of Kirby not being found with the sheep all correct, not very bright prospect for the party to travel to the Gulf and round to Port Denison upon; certainly we have the horses but I would be loath to kill them except in extreme need, but I will still hope for the best, but cannot stay beyond a week whether found or not, as our provisions, beef, will be lessening daily; the flour we still have is a small quantity reserved in case of sickness and for the purpose of putting a small quantity daily in our soup to make it appear more substantial; at present the vegetable the party were all so fond of has disappeared except some old dry remnants which all feel the want of much. I hope it may reappear. After cooking some of the liver etc. for breakfast and some to take with them, started Middleton and Palmer again to follow up Kirby's tracks from where they left them, and started Bell back to the last camp to examine minutely the track as he went along, and all about the camp in case he may have retraced his steps, which is what he ought to have done. By noon of same day, on our not making our appearance on his course, I started out and skirted the foot of the range where he ought to come out on his course, but was unsuccessful in finding the slightest trace of the unfortunate man. What thoughts must pass in his mind. Not a probability of ever again seeing anyone of his own colour. Possibly destroyed by the natives whose fires are to be seen daily, although they don't make their appearance—never again to see his home nor his friends; it must be awful for the poor man. Dusk now setting in I have better hopes of his recovery as neither of the three horsemen have made their appearance. Just at dark up rides Middleton with the joyous intelligence that man and sheep are found, Palmer staying behind to push on and overtake Bell and Kirby with the sheep on our track here, and Middleton took a more direct route here to give information of the good news, at which all of us were glad and thankful. About 11 p.m. horsemen, Kirby, and sheep arrived safe, and I was truly grateful for the deliverance. The poor man says he never expected to see us again. Bell fortunately picked him up within three miles of our last camp; he was then, after having been considerably south, and now completely bewildered and thinking he had missed the camp while travelling in the dark, steering a north-west course, and in ten minutes longer would have been on our track for this place. Middleton and Palmer had traced him throughout; and as they found they were drawing near our track Palmer went to the track to see if anything was to be seen of him there, and called out to Middleton that they were found, and gone towards home on the tracks, when Middleton immediately started with the information, leaving Palmer to follow and overtake and assist them to camp with the sheep. The man Kirby on arrival was completely worn out, not for want of food but with a troubled mind and want of sleep. He had killed a sheep the second night after leaving last camp and had with him a small portion for his use. How thankful he must have been to see Bell!
Sunday, April 20.
Very cold morning. Kirby sleeping and recruiting himself. The meat drying; in consequence of the last detention it has put us far back from where we otherwise would have been, and the course appears pretty open to us now.
Monday, April 21.
No dew last night, still the meat is unfit to pack, will have to give it today still, and then will make a start in the morning. A splendid large creek flows west of south over the fall of water, and at fifteen to sixteen miles from this there is abundance of water in it, and must increase wonderfully as it goes southward and receives its various tributaries. I have called it the Hamilton after G. Hamilton, Esquire, Inspector of Police, Adelaide. The one flowing south from our last camp (39) I have called the Warburton, after the Commissioner of Police, P.E. Warburton, Esquire, of Adelaide. The range between the two going south I have called Crozier's Range after John Crozier, Esquire, Murray River. The ranges west side of the Hamilton going southward I have called William's Ranges. From the division of waters the ranges west of this and the creek flowing northwards, a branch of which we are now on, I have called McKinlay Creek and Ranges; I only hope the creek may hold a course west of north. The ranges on the east side of this creek going northward I have called Kirby's Ranges to remind him of his narrow escape. Tributaries come into this creek south of this position, and west and east as far as I can discern from top of range, about five miles north-north-east of this; there is abundance of water in many of the minor as well as the main creeks; mussels in all. Magnificent pasture all around and lots of game but wild.
Tuesday, April 22.
Camp 40. We have been here now since the afternoon of Thursday last the 17th, and high time it is that we make some progress. Wind south-east; cold dewless nights; the meat has dried after a fashion but not sufficient for keeping any length of time without further exposure to sun and air—which we must do as soon as we get to camp for several days. Kirby has now quite recovered and we start on a bearing of 345 degrees. I call this small creek Black-eyes Creek—after the bullock we slaughtered here; at three and three-quarter miles crossed the what appears main channel of the creek coming from west-south-west, and various others coming in all directions; this is an immense creek, sandy and gravelly bed, with large and to me perfectly new trees, with short and broad dark green leaf and often clustering in fine saplings from the bottom and growing to a good height; also some fine gums. Creek now on the right; country after crossing the creek is splendidly grassed and firm sound ground between creek and range which is some distance off; but we will be gradually approaching it on our present course. At seven and a half miles crossed sandy creek from west; at ten one-eighth miles crossed large deep creek from west, at twelve miles sandy creek from west; and at fourteen miles sandy creek from west; at fourteen and a quarter miles large sandy creek, west, with water in sand; went down the creek east for a quarter of a mile to water and camped at the junction of the other creek we crossed a short distance back with this; the creek immediately below this is about 300 yards wide with excellent timber; there has been a little spinifex during today's travel but the bulk of it has been well-grassed and fresh varieties of good sound country; a specimen of copper picked up in one of the creeks; a great abundance of quartz and mica strewed everywhere. I think I forgot to mention that at the division of waters on the low bald undulations limestone is strewed about in large and small circular pieces from the size of a saucer to three and four feet in diameter, besides large blocks of it; the hills on the west are of a hard stone between flint and sandstone, strewed about with quartz; the eastern one is of burned slate or clay, pretty much resembling many that we have already passed and what I was on, topped with spinifex, and the side with good grasses.
Wednesday, April 23.
Camp 41. Mild night, wind light from west; started on a bearing of 345 degrees. A fresh broad-bean from a fine runner found here but rather green to obtain seed from; may get some ripe further north. A couple of small fish about two and a half to three inches long are in this waterhole, came up at the flood no doubt and left here. The horses are gone back on their old tracks and the two men who went after them, like idiots, got about half of them and retraced their steps to camp, afraid no doubt to go off the tracks to look after them in case they should get lost—this I am sorry to say is not an uncommon occurrence and has all along pestered me very much, and has in many instances caused vast detention; the worst of it is that some of them instead of improving in following tracks appear to me to be getting daily more stupid. The sheep and bullocks I have sent on on the proper bearing, so that if it is even late when the horses are found they can be overtaken and a journey made; but it does not give me an opportunity of finding water and good camp as I otherwise would be able to do getting them in a proper time. Wind at 10 a.m. changed to east-north-east, beautiful morning. At middle of the day, the horses not making their appearance, I sent after the sheep and bullocks and had them turned back to camp; they arrived at sunset and the horses just arrived at the same time, having strayed amongst the spinifex a considerable distance. I took a horse and went to the nearest hill about seven miles distant to observe the course of the main creek, but the day proving warm and misty I did not get so distinct a view as I anticipated, it was extensive enough but indistinct although the elevation I was on must have been more than 3000 feet from level of the creek, and much higher ranges on to west of it; from top of it portions of the main range appear in the far distance at 347 1/2 degrees; no other eminence round the horizon to 95 degrees; the whole intervening space filled with creeks running in all directions towards the main creek, that must be distant from the hill I was on easterly nearly twenty miles with an apparent northerly course; this hill is detached from the main mass of range and distant from four to five miles. It and the most of the intervening space between the camp and it is literally one mass of quartz and quartz-reefs, mica, etc., and on top of range is a sort of flaggy slate, all apparently having undergone the action of fire—this range I have called Sarah's Range; it bears from camp 323 degrees seven miles; a great deal of spinifex and abrupt creeks between camp and it, not a speck of gold visible but it appears to have undergone the action of fire; this is another day lost. Such detention makes me quite irritable and fidgety.
Thursday, April 24.
Camp 41. Night mild, warm morning. Bearing of 345 degrees for three miles, within which distance three tributaries from the range from the west cross us, not of any great size. Change course to 352 degrees, the ground being rather stony and full of spinifex, and the side creeks very sandy, and little hopes of water for the animals although plenty could be had for our own use. At one mile, tributary; at two miles another; four and a quarter miles another; at seven miles junction of two, where we camp; although the distance is short, the bullocks being absent this morning when I left camp, and it appears had gone towards our old camp about eight miles before they were overtaken. I hope all the animals will be at hand in the morning to enable us to make a good day of it tomorrow. Just below the junction of these two creeks (although the southern one is only a small one and in it we got the water) the creek is from 250 to 300 yards broad with splendid gums in it on its banks. Although I searched up and down the main creek some distance still no water to be found, the bed of the creek is so very sandy. My reason for camping at so short a stage was that from the top of the hill I was on I fancy I could discern a continuation of dry-looking country beyond this creek. Very little spinifex on the way today; plenty of grass and very good travelling; masses of quartz and mica all along our tracks; ridges low with some spinifex run in considerably to the east towards the main creek—lots of myall and other shrubs. The natives are busy burning on the ranges some distance west of this and have been burning daily ever since we came on the creek, and I suppose are still unaware of our presence or they would have paid us a visit. For the last 150 miles at least there have been on the slopes and tops of all the ranges decaying red anthills, not tenanted and gradually decaying—many of them appearing like sharp spires and washed in every shape by the rains and the weather.
Friday, April 25.
Camp 42. Mild night, warm morning. Animals all at hand for a good start. Bearing of 352 degrees; crossed good-sized creek at three and a half miles; another good-sized creek at eight miles; and at ten and a quarter miles another, but deep. During first part of the journey over good open white gum and myall forest; last part ridgy, with spinifex; quartz all the way; at twelve miles and a half crossed creek; at fourteen and a half miles crossed creek; native got water by digging in the sand; at sixteen and a quarter miles changed course to 5 degrees, the ridges and spurs coming too much in my way; four and three-quarter miles on this last bearing to a mound of slabs of sparkling stony-like mica, about fifty feet, and two mounds of similar form, but wooded on the right, no water; left Middleton here to tell them to camp for the night and watch the animals, and went myself westward to endeavour to find water for them in the morning and found it at three miles on bearing of 301 degrees, so returned; met them just having dinner; repacked and led them to water—distance travelled twenty-four miles. This is an immense creek and is still flowing slowly through and over the sand in its bed; it is upwards of 300 yards wide, comes from the west and south through the ranges, joins another about a mile north of this and passes round a small stony hill on its right bank, then takes a northerly course then, and lastly as far as I could discern, a north-east course. Very heavy gum timber. I am sorry to say today our marking chisel was lost so we will not be able to mark any more trees. The creek I have called the Marchant after William Marchant, Esquire, of Mananarie. The main creek is now a very considerable distance east. I hoped to have struck it before this but the spurs from the main range keep it off. Passed today a vast number of smaller tributaries from west; immense reefs and masses of quartz and small ranges composed of shining slabs of a grey, tough and wavy stone with masses of quartz. A good deal of spinifex but no scrub to interrupt us. Will make for a distant low spur of main range tomorrow in my course.
Saturday, April 26.
Camp 43. Very mild night; a great many clouds; a likelihood of rain. Started on bearing of 336 degrees over a vast quantity of strong spinifex; bad travelling although not very stony. Not so much quartz today although large piles of it are to be seen. Crossed Marchant's Creek and at one mile crossed a tributary. At ten miles came to a very fine creek about 400 yards broad, in one of its branches from sixty to eighty yards; broad water completely fills the space as far as you can see southward and westward. I have called it the Williams after Edward Williams, Esquire, of the North of Adelaide. Immense holes in a light blue rock in the creek a few hundred yards north of this full of water and apparently very deep, an abundance immediately beyond in the creek, which appears to flow northward. I have come rather a short journey today as the sheep and bullocks had no time to feed yesterday. Very cloudy and sultry. Lots of small fish in this creek, none yet seen longer than three inches; amongst them are a lot of fish about the same size or a little larger, with fine vertical black stripes commencing at the shoulder and a black tip to lower part of tail—body generally lighter-coloured than the other fish.
Sunday, April 27.
Camp 44, Williams Creek. Mild night, not so like rain this morning. Bearing of 355 degrees crossing this creek at an acute angle, crossed this creek again at three miles, crossed again at five miles—creek close on the right; at six and one-eighth miles crossed a deep tributary at its junction—heavy timber, plenty of water. Williams Creek still close on the right full of spinifex on the slopes and short rough abrupt creeks; bad travelling; at seven and three-quarter miles commenced travelling in bed of the creek, west side, till eight and three-quarter miles, the creek bearing off more to the east. At present I keep on my course of 355 degrees, over good country the latter part of course. At thirteen miles came to and crossed a splendid creek with abundance of water and lots of fish coming from the hills west and flowing apparently east. This creek I have called the Elder after Thomas Elder, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Monday, April 28.
Camp 45, Elder's Creek. Last night we slept in the bed of the creek on the sand. There must have been a terrific flood here lately, such as this part of the world has not been visited with for many years; between thirty and forty feet over our heads in the bed of this creek are now to be seen logs, grass, and all sorts of rubbish left by it; and immense trees torn up by the roots, and others broken off short at twenty to thirty feet from their roots—showing the violence of the current. No doubt there is plenty of permanent water in the range further up in the last three creeks we have camped on. Mild morning with fleecy clouds. Wind south-south-west. Another deep creek joins this where we struck it, coming more from the south-west; water at its junction with this. Plenty of water up this creek; did not go down it. Our journey today on bearing of 355 degrees over sixteen and three-quarter miles was over good, lightly-timbered, well-grassed country and a good deal of flooded country. Saw no water but lots of birds. Shot an emu. Changed course to 347 degrees for a small hill in the distance and at two and a half miles crossed several irregular watercourses from the north flowing to south and east; went then to a small spinifex rise, timbered. At eight and a half miles struck a creek with water; I have called it Poole's Creek after Mr. R.T. Poole of Willaston. Distance travelled today twenty-five and a half miles. After getting into camp myself and Middleton went on to the hill in front and at two and a quarter miles arrived at it. It is perfectly detached and stands in the open plain—is very stony or rather rocky. Open plains to the north and west as far as you can discern; to the north-north-east appears dark timber which I hope to be the main creek, and appears to be bearing to north and west. A couple of isolated hills from fifteen to twenty miles off bearing respectively, the southern one 251 1/2 degrees, the northern one 254 degrees. The southern one I have called Mount Elephant, the one to the north Mount McPherson, and the one I am on Margaret. Another in the distance bearing 258 degrees.
Tuesday, April 29.
Camp 46, Poole's Creek. This creek takes its rise from the westward on the plains between this and the hills which are now a considerable distance from us; and after passing this encampment bears to east round by north. Mild morning, wind easterly. Shot two young emus. Pass over immense plains with small belts of bushes here and there and in places more especially near the isolated hill on the plain. At eleven and a quarter miles further came to a watercourse from the westward and flowing considerably to north of east with plenty of water. Camped to give sheep and bullocks time to feed, as it was half-past 8 p.m. ere they reached their camp last night, and one of the bullocks considerably lame. Distance travelled about thirteen and a half miles. Instead of plains, as I have called this open country, it is rather very gentle undulations and a considerable portion of it occasionally inundated as for instance of late. Another large waterhole in this course at about a mile on bearing of 355 degrees; the creek then appears to bear off to the eastward. I will still hold on my course of 15 degrees, but would sooner it were 25 degrees west of north as on that course I would be going pretty direct for the mouth of the River Albert, now I imagine about 150 miles distant, if the watch has not put me too much out—it stops sometimes and when it does go it gains one hour in twelve.
Wednesday, April 30.
Camp 47. Blackfellows burning grass to east-south-east of us; the first bushfire we have seen; morning pleasant with wind from south-south-east. Some or nearly all complained of being sick after eating the first emu, but I liked it much and so did some of the others; they are a great acquisition and have saved us three sheep; the largest weighed when ready for the pot forty-eight pounds; the smaller ones when ready for use thirty-one and thirty-three pounds, and are much better than the old one. The grass passed over yesterday although abundant is rank and not of that sweet description we have before seen, but no doubt excellent for cattle and horses. Just as the animals were being brought in for packing Davis found, in a small shallow pool nearly dry, numbers of small nice-looking fish of two sorts—longest not more than three and a half inches; one sort like the catfish of the Murray, the other spotted like a salmon. For five miles over timbered plains on a bearing of 345 degrees; at three and a half miles struck a small creek coming from west and south with plenty of water; and at five and a quarter miles further an immense deep creek with water (gum) crossed at rightangles from the western banks which are very precipitous. I have called it the Jessie. At six miles came to and crossed a noble river, now a creek as it is not running, but plenty of water; from 300 to 400 yards broad. At crossing the first, cabbage palm seen on its western bank between this and the last creek; on left of course is a splendid belt of white gums on the dry sound flat; this river, like the other creek, flows from south of west after crossing a northerly and easterly course; I have called it the Jeannie after a young lady friend of mine. At fourteen and a half miles came to a fine lagoon running easterly and westerly; good water in abundance; went round it and camped north-west side, as the natives are firing close by on the south-east side; distance nineteen and a half miles. For some considerable distance back it has been an open timbered country; plenty of myall and useful white butt gum; drainage as yet all to the east and slightly north. I thought the Jeannie bore more north but it bore off again to the eastward; no game of any kind seen today except a turkey; a great quantity of vines on which grows four or five black fruit, like peas and extremely hard, from every flower, and on which the emu appears to feed much. There were also two other vines or runners on which grow an oblong fruit about one to one and a half inches long, green like cucumber, but bitter; the other is a round fruit about the size of a walnut, darker in colour than the other, not so abundant, and which the emu seems to exist much on at present. Some seeds of each and many shrubs, flowers, and fruits before new to me I have obtained. A number of partially-dried lagoons all round this about three-quarters of a mile long; one is about six feet deep; a very fine sheet of water.
Thursday, May 1.
Camp 48. Beautiful cool breeze from east-south-east; one native seen by Palmer (who was behind with the bullocks) running the tracks of the horses and camels, but when he saw Palmer he was off at full speed; it is strange we don't fall in with more of them in a country where there appears to be lots of food and water for them; started on bearing of 330 degrees, at 120 yards crossed a partially dry lagoon, at a quarter of a mile another, then splendid open forest, well timbered and grassed; at two and a quarter miles struck a creek flowing about 20 degrees north of east, deep sandy bed, no water, followed it down for one mile bearing 70 degrees and crossed, not being able to get up the opposite banks being so abrupt; although there is no water here no doubt from the look of the creek there is abundance both above and below, dead palm tree branches amongst the creek-wash; bearing of 330 degrees through splendid open forest and well grassed; at one mile crossed the same creek flowing to north of west, at three and a quarter miles struck it again and crossed it flowing to north of east, and just in a turning to north, still no water in its bed, at three and three-quarter miles struck it again but did not cross it, it appearing to bear to north-east out of our tracks; bearing of 290 degrees one mile, creek on right hand; bearing of 330 degrees five miles; then bearing of 322 1/2 degrees for one and three-quarter miles; bearing of 330 degrees three miles over open plains with a few shrubs occasionally, came to a small creek flowing to north of east, plenty of water; distance travelled seventeen and three-quarter miles; the grass on all the very open country was very dry and little substance in it, along the large creek passed and crossed various times reeds first met with; the large creek when last seen was bearing to west of north a long distance off, beyond an open plain; the creek I am now upon divides into several branches just here, which makes this one so small. Shot a new bird—dark grey, large tail, something like a pheasant in its flight; it always starts from the ground and settles awkwardly on the trees, its tail appearing a nuisance to it; the specimen shot is too much torn for preservation. The days now are very warm and the nights very agreeable. Short as the time is since they must have had the rain here it is astonishing how it has dried up in many places. The large creek crossed yesterday I have called the William after a young friend of mine.
Friday, May 2.
Camp 49. Beautiful morning; wind south-south-west. Bearing 330 degrees over a plain and at three miles crossed a watercourse flowing east; at three and three-quarter miles crossed another with plenty of water on right hand flowing to north of east; at seven and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a narrow deep creek, plenty water, about fifty yards wide, and have named it the Dugald, flowing north-north-east; small ranges visible at crossing this creek; beyond a plain at south-west; nice open forest before crossing this creek; at ten and a quarter miles over small stony plain, or rather bald hill, as it ascends and descends; came to and crossed a box and gum small watercourse; dry at crossing; first part over plain and latter part over myall forest undulations; at twelve and three-quarter miles came to irregular small creeks flowing to north-north-east, plenty of water; at eighteen miles came to a small creek from the ridges on our left with sufficient water for all useful purposes. From the last creek, undulations of fair and spinifex country; and slopes of ridges covered with spinifex (slopes to northward). At this creek there are a number of beautiful shady trees, leaves about four or five inches broad and from five to six inches long; besides gums and various other trees. Spinifex on both sides of the creek down to its edge. A hill of no great height ahead of us in our course for tomorrow. Saw plenty of turkey.
Saturday, May 3.
Camp 50. Fleecy clouds; wind east-south-east, blew pretty strong towards morning. Started on bearing of 330 degrees; for first three miles over spinifex ridge then small grass flat and another small spinifex ridge; at four miles over a good-sized plain (drainage all towards south and west towards heavy timber—where there is I suppose a large creek or river from the south) and across a small spinifex stony range. Cleared it at twelve and a quarter miles, following along the slopes of the hills, drainage west and north; at fourteen miles came to a watercourse, drainage north, abundance of water; followed along numerous watercourses both on right and left with plenty of water, and along what is here the principal creek—not so much water in it although it is better defined. Camped at sixteen miles. The feed on the open ground is as dry as tinder and not at all of first-class quality, the only green feed being about the creek and watercourses. A great abundance of those fine shady broad-leaved trees; they would be a great ornament in a park; it bears an abundance of seed but not ripe at present although I have taken some of it. Very sultry.
Sunday, May 4.
Camp 51. Mild night and morning. Our small stock of sheep got out of the fold in the night and half of them are missing this morning; I hope they may be got. Sky a good deal overcast. Wind east. I am glad that the missing sheep, after a little looking for, were found close by; the loss of them would have deprived us of at least seven days' food, which would be no light matter in a country where we seldom can even shoot a duck, much less sufficient for all the party who are now, I am happy to say, in excellent health. As this creek—which I have called Davis Creek after one of the party—bears a good deal on my course of yesterday, and has a good many irregularities near the bank which make it rough travelling, I have changed my course to north-west or 315 degrees; at one mile cleared the creek although it keeps pretty close on my present course and appears to be hemmed in on the right by the last ridge I crossed yesterday; then over plains and belts of myall gum; at five and three-quarter miles crossed a small creek flowing northward over similar country, but more sound; at ten and a half miles crossed a couple of small creeks flowing northward (the natives burning a short distance on our left); then over a variety of fair open country and a small portion of very thick and scrubby myall forest; then over spinifex ridge; then over well grassed tablelands for several miles; then over pretty thickly timbered spinifex rise of considerable length; and lastly for the last five miles over plains, light belts of timber here and there; got to a creek with sufficient water at twenty-seven and three-quarter miles. Long day, rather; did not see a drop of water the whole way, but I fancy we could have had what we desired at the early part of the day but we did not require it. The sheep and bullocks got to camp about 8 o'clock p.m., an astonishing journey for the poor little fellows; they are now, with the constant travelling and the long coarse grass, falling off in condition, but had they the feed they were accustomed to they would be much better; as it is they are far from poor—kidneys well-covered yet and fairish caul fat.
Monday, May 5.
Camp 52. Mild night with dew and calm, still morning; very cloudy and rainy-like to north and south of east. Heard a native wailing for some lost friend or relation during the night but as yet have seen none of them, although they were burning on left of our track yesterday within two miles. This creek comes from southward and flows to west of north considerably; it is well defined with box timber, but not at all deep; it appears more like a side creek to a larger stream. There is here a considerable plain on both sides and as yet no main creek visible although I fancy there must be one, all the drainage yesterday being to left of our course, no doubt to meet some large creek to south and west. Started on bearing of 315 degrees; crossed the creek obliquely at starting; then over a plain; at three and a quarter miles into a mulga forest, or rather belts of it, and amongst which there was at three and a quarter miles a swamp with water; then over plains and a gentle rise, thinly interspersed with small lots of shrubs and thin belts of timber (light); at thirteen and a half miles to a watercourse, sufficient water for our use, although rather opaque, but we can easily put up with that once in a way. I have made the journey short today in consequence of yesterday's one being so long. At the conclusion of today's stage from my calculations it places me exactly on Gregory's track, twenty miles east of where he crossed the Leichhardt River. I hope in reality it may be so, but I am hardly sanguine enough to expect it, taking everything into consideration—bad time-keeping watch and nothing to go by but the guess of your horse's pace.
Tuesday, May 6.
Camp 53. Dull morning, cloudy, wind south-south-west. A vast number of galahs, corellas, macaws, cockatoo parrots, hawks, and crows here. Started on bearing of 310 degrees over alternate plains and through belts of small timber. At seven miles passed swampy country where some heavy belts of timber are to the right of course. A great number of birds; water I am sure could be had if required; over alternate plains and strips of forest as before. At seventeen and three-quarter miles came to a native camp near swamp (water). Saw two of them in the distance some few miles further, but they scampered off and I did not go after them. Over similar country, latterly more open and even. At twenty-two and a half miles struck the Leichhardt River at what appears an island. Plenty of deep water; banks too precipitous for the animals to water. Followed down it bearing 330 degrees for two and a half miles and came to a bend of the river. Good sound watering-place; shingly and sandy beach for about a mile. Camped near the upper end of it. Hodgkinson caught a small fish; large one seen but not caught. It is a splendid river and from bank to bank is from 150 to 180 yards where we are encamped; but the water is here and for nearly a mile confined to a space of fifteen to twenty yards. Here on the western side, and a little further in at a crossing-place on the eastern side where it is still running a nice little stream, stony bottom, and only a couple or three yards wide.
Wednesday, May 7.
Camp 54. Very dull morning and sultry; every appearance of rain, sky perfectly overcast. Started down bed of river on east side on bearing of 37 degrees for one and one-eighth miles; crossed; a quarter of a mile on bearing of 220 degrees; bearing 260 degrees for one mile, following along the western banks of river, where it is full of sand and timber, and fully 500 yards wide; bearing 282 degrees, still along the banks for half a mile; then bearing of 310 degrees as the river goes suddenly off north and eastward; one mile on last bearing through, since crossing river, pretty open forest land; on bearing of 352 degrees at one and a quarter miles came to a fine lagoon or swamp with plenty of water and green grass; bearing of 352 degrees, at half a mile further crossed a deep dry creek going west to or by the swamp, at one and a half miles further came to and crossed a deepish creek from the south and west, sandy bottom (water); at one and three-quarter miles further struck the river, plenty of fresh water, and good crossing if necessary; at two and three-quarter miles further came to a nice lagoon, plenty of water and feed, river apparently some distance off, on the right; at seven and three-quarter miles further over open forest and plains with light timber. Seeing no chance of water ahead changed course for the Leichhardt; bearing of 109 1/2 degrees for 3 and one-third miles to river; crossed it and camped in the sandy bed; lots of stones for the last two miles and stony about the riverbank.
Thursday, May 8.
Camp 55. Strong south breeze, all appearance of rain blown away. Started on bearing of 355 degrees, water in the way; at one mile, between the start and that, there were stones and a little spinifex; then over open plains, small belts of clumps of small trees; halted at nine and a half miles; water quite sufficient for our use. I never saw such flights of Sturt's pigeons—at times completely darkening the ground over which they flew—a vast body of them seem to be wending their way to north-west from south-east, but vast numbers are here on the plains notwithstanding; natives burning on the Leichhardt in all directions, and one or two fires towards the Albert; took Middleton with me to ascertain what kind of country there is between camp and coast. On bearing of 355 degrees at six miles came to and crossed a creek, plenty of water, flowing to north-north-east; at sixteen and a half miles struck a creek with heavy box and gum timber, and water where we struck it in small lagoons and side creeks. Camped; natives burning ahead of us and a little east. A great portion of the country we have come over from camp is inundated and has now coarse grass and reeds. This creek flows here about north; south of this it comes more to the north-north-east.
Friday, May 9.
Middleton and I still out; party in camp. Started on bearing of 40 degrees; wind strong, south; at three and a half miles struck the creek, now a very considerable size and flowing to the eastward and a little south; followed it for a quarter of a mile, keeping it on the left on bearing of about 110 degrees, and crossed it at a long grassy flat; in its bed native wurlies between where we first struck it and crossed it; bearing of 40 degrees, long deep reach of water, banks well defined; bearing of 40 degrees, at three-quarters of a mile, creek, recrossed same on a bed of lava, all rent, abundance of water; at five and a half miles further struck the Leichhardt, its bed vast sheets of stones—rocks and small stones opposite side, lower down—the water in its bed is about or upwards of 150 yards wide; at two miles, bearing of about 210 degrees, struck the river at a stony and rocky fall and went westward half a mile to avoid the bend; struck river again at three miles on same course as above; then at four miles struck the river, water in its full width now upwards of 250 yards, a splendid-looking place, and lined on its banks with splendid timber of various kinds, with a variety of palms, etc.; then to the southward of south-west for between six and eight miles, but the rugged banks were so intricate that it was impossible to calculate the distance correctly; in a great many places, half a mile from the riverbanks, the plains drop off precipitously from three to ten feet, and slope off in undermined deep earthy creeks, finishing at last in deep reedy creeks close to the river; water in nearly all the side creeks and compelled us to keep out, but sometimes we were caught in them, thinking the timber we were advancing to was a lagoon or belt of timber, and then we were compelled to go round it; then cross a very fine creek running into the river the same, I believe, we crossed yesterday about six miles from camp on our outward course. From this to our camp I make out about thirteen miles on a bearing of about 200 degrees; got to camp about 8 p.m., for the last seven miles guided by a roman candle shot off at the camp. Fireworks are most useful in expeditions of this kind as in many cases some of our party have been guided up to camp near midnight.
Saturday, May 10.
Camp 56. Very cold during the night; in the morning wind south-east but beautiful weather. Started on bearing of 20 degrees over land subject to frequent inundations, with reeds thinly scattered over it and narrow belt of small timber. At twelve miles came to and crossed the creek seen on our way out on Thursday afternoon last, about six miles from camp (56 the camp). At thirteen miles struck a lagoon, then another, and another at fourteen and a quarter miles, all of which have abundance of water; at the last of which I encamped, excellent feed. I forgot to mention that yesterday on return to camp from first striking in Leichhardt's River I observed apparently a native firing the grass a short distance on my right. I made towards it and saw one coming steadily towards us, still spying us, retreated at full speed; as I had some fish-hooks and line I was determined to pull him or her up. Started off and overtook what turned out to be a gin and her piccaninie, and had a load of something, which in her retreat she dropped. She screamed and cooeed and set fire to the grass all around us to endeavour to get rid of us, but all to no purpose. I held out to her a fish-hook but she would not take them to look at even, but busied herself screaming and firing the grass; upon which I got off the horse and approached her. She immediately lifted up her yam-stick in the position the men throw their spears, and prepared to defend herself, until at last she quieted down on observing the fish-hook, and advanced a step or two and took it from me, evidently knowing the use of it. I then gave her a line and another hook, and by signs explained to her that I would return in the direction the day following. She wished me to understand something, holding up four of her fingers, but what she meant I could not guess. I tried to make out from her how far the coast was, making motions as if paddling a canoe, but could not get any information; as soon as we were clear off she set to work to make an immense smoke to attract the notice of her people to give them the news. This afternoon three of the party went over east-south-east about three-quarters of a mile to the river and caught about a dozen fish of small size and three different sorts, and a turtle about a foot long. The river during the day has almost always been in sight from thirty six miles off till crossing the creek, when it was not more than one mile off.
Sunday, May 11.
Camp 57. Could not have finer weather for travelling; abundance of feed, though on anything like high ground it has shed its seed and is now dry; plenty of good water as yet and fair feed round it generally. Lagoons wooded round generally with rusty gum, box, and white gum; wind east-south-east and pleasant. Started to clear some broken slopes ahead towards the river on bearing of 345 degrees. At two miles over plains came to and crossed a creek running into the river about a mile off; at two and a quarter miles changed course to 9 degrees, over open country—generally sloping to north-east from river with plenty of water on each side; at six and three-quarter miles struck the river at the falls. Messenger overtook me to say that one of the bullocks we had been using for the pack could not be brought on so determined to kill and jerk him; and went west half a mile on a small creek with running water and where the feed was better and more green than on the river. The bullock was got to camp about evening and slaughtered; plenty of guardfish, swordfish, and sharks under the falls, which are about fifty to sixty feet high with no current. Deep water above and below, and water oozing through the fissures of the rock which appears a sort of burnt limestone and indifferent agate. Found an eatable fruit on a handsome tree of the palm kind.
Monday, May 12.
Camp 58. Wind south-south-west; not an ounce of fat upon the bullock; won't take so long to jerk. I started out today to examine the country ahead, taking with me Middleton and Poole. At one mile over plain 5 degrees; changed course to 355 degrees; at five and a half miles struck the river and changed course to 285 degrees; at five-sixths of a mile struck and crossed creek from south to river; at two and five-sixths miles crossed smaller one from same direction; at a quarter of a mile further changed course to 340 degrees; at eleven and three-quarter miles over very bad travelling country, plains subject to much inundation, to a creek running into the river with splendid water and feed; at twelve and a half miles came to the river, with an immense sand-spit opposite; appears to be within the influence of the sea and is about 600 yards wide and dry half across. A number of pelicans up some distance; water either brackish a little or with some other peculiarity about it. Started for apparently another bend of the river, on bearing of 329 degrees. One and three-quarter miles saw a lagoon, on the left ahead; and as the horses are tired will bear for it and turn them out. Course 282 degrees, three-quarters of a mile; abundance of water and feed; lots of geese, ibis, ducks, and spoonbills. North three-quarters of a mile from this is the river, about 500 yards wide, treeless on the west bank and cliffs about twenty to thirty feet high, all round an immense sweep; sandy beach opposite, within the influence of the sea, a rise and fall of four feet observed—and at high-water a little brackish. Caught a few fish; the only thing we had for supper; would have done well had there been sufficient of them.
Tuesday, May 13.
Started on bearing of 330 degrees for a distant point like river timber which turned out to be a small hill or ridge with spinifex; a lagoon on the left at its base; struck it at five miles. At five and a half miles changed course to 355 degrees; at ten miles first part over firm, small, stony plains, good country; then at four miles crossed a salty timberless creek; and then over a succession of salt swampy flats with grassy plots intervening. Middleton's mare Counterfeit knocked up and he had to stay with her. I and Poole went on on a bearing of 355 degrees still; at two miles came to a mangrove creek; at two and a quarter miles the banks of the Albert River; salt arm, from half to three-quarters of a mile broad. Returned to Middleton and started back for the Leichhardt River on bearing of 110 degrees to camp, as soon as we could get water and feed, to endeavour to get the mare back to camp or part of the way. On bearing of 110 degrees for about four miles, first part over salt swamps; passed a long rocky lagoon full of water and half a mile long from north to south, and several other smaller ones between that and the river; mangrove banks in all the flat parts. Banks on this side treeless; country much burnt up. Top tide at least five hours earlier than when we camped last night; caught a few fish—in all about enough for one but had to do for the three of us. Rise and fall of river somewhere about five feet.
Wednesday, May 14.
Wind south; was very cloudy during the night and this morning; mosquitoes very troublesome during the night. Bearing homewards 170 to 215 degrees for the first eight or ten miles, leaving Poole and Middleton to get on to our first camp till I bring on the party on the morrow. Got to camp myself a little after sundown, and to my disgust found all the camels astray and Bell and Davis in search of them.
Thursday, May 15.
Start Hodgkinson and Maitland on to Middleton and Poole's camp with four horses, bedding, and provisions on such a course, 25 1/2 degrees west of north, as will cut their camp. No tidings of the camels. I went out and hunted about for them till noon, and just as I got to camp Bell and Davis returned, having camped out all night after them, but saw nothing of them—the ground is so hard they leave so little impression on the ground that it is a difficult thing to trace them; however they have got bells and hobbles on and will at once be again sent after, with, I hope, more success. I am exceedingly annoyed at the detention here, more so as the animals don't do so well here as they have done. Hunted still during the afternoon for them, but without success. All spare hands will start out in search in the morning; it will be the sound of the bells or the sight of them only that will recover them, as track them we cannot in this dry country. Promised the party a treat on arriving within the influence of the sea on the north coast, so had baked some flour kept in reserve and each had a liberal allowance served out to him—that with fresh and excellent mutton and some salt I brought back from the flats gave all quite a treat. Sent Poole and Middleton theirs on by Hodgkinson and Maitland, which in their present half-starved condition would be a still greater treat. We would all have been in better spirits had the camels not been absent, but will hunt well for them tomorrow and trust we may recover them.
Friday, May 16.
I with Bell and Davis started out first thing after the camels, leaving Palmer, Wylde and Kirby in camp. Searched back towards the old camp again although they had assured me they had thoroughly searched all the leading creeks, but I had little faith in their search, which the result proved. At about six miles south-south-west in one of the creeks that they particularly assured me had been well-searched I, with Davis, found their traces (Bell having been sent in another direction) and after losing their track for about six or seven hours succeeded in finding them about twelve or thirteen miles south and west of this, I fancy more by accident than anything else, at about an hour and a half to sunset, and immediately started to camp where they arrived all right and are now tied up for the night ready for a morning start, and very glad am I that they are found.
Saturday, May 17.
Camp 58. Sultry, wind east. All the animals ready for a start and happy am I to turn my back on this camp which I call Rowdy Creek Falls Camp after the poor little bullock we killed here, which gave us about 70 pounds of such stuff as one could hardly imagine without seeing it—nothing like a particle of fat visible anywhere and excessively tasteless. It is fortunate our two remaining bullocks are in better condition or we would not be in the most enviable plight on our arrival at the settled districts, Queensland. Started on bearing of 335 1/2 degrees over good open country. At two and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a creek coming up from south-south-west; in that direction there are falls and sheets of rock quite across it and forming above and below them splendid reaches of deep water with numberless ducks, etc., and black macaws and gillates in thousands. Plenty of water in our course beyond the creek for half to three-quarters of a mile; then over plains intersected with thin belts of small trees, the river not far off on our right. At seven and a quarter miles changed course to 334 degrees, keeping a little farther from the river. At fifteen and three-quarter miles got to camp, found all right. Natives burning grass close upon our right on the way here to windward at a furious rate. What their particular object can be in burning so much of the country I cannot understand. No natives as yet have voluntarily shown themselves. I met the same lubra and child again near the same place that I before met her, but she did not this time attempt to fire the grass round me. A short way on further I met, or rather overtook, another lubra with two children; she tried at first to conceal herself but when she saw that she was observed she immediately set to work to burn the grass round us in all directions. However I got off the horse and walked towards her, holding out a fish-hook to her; she did not hesitate much but came forward and took it and I went on my way. Saw no natives since but look where you may, except north, and you will see fires raging. About two miles from this and on our left as we came along is a fine lagoon in the midst of timber. The tide it appears rises here now from six to ten feet. Not many fish caught.
Sunday, May 18.
Camp 59. Wind easterly; heavy bank of dark clouds to the west and the sun rose not so bright as usual. Over open plains, bad travelling; on bearing of 340 degrees at four and a quarter miles struck an immense lagoon (semicircular) and kept it on our right for nearly three-quarters of a mile, then still bore 340 degrees for one-seventh of a mile further; then changed course to 17 degrees; at half a mile struck and went through a swampy lagoon going east; at three and a quarter miles river close by on the right; at four and three-quarter miles came to large lagoons in our course; went a little to the left and passed between two, appears to be a very heavy one to the left close by. Still on bearing of 17 degrees; at one and a quarter miles further large lagoon close on right; a couple of hundred yards further on on the right is a fine creek with abundance of water and game; at eight miles crossed it still on bearing of 17 degrees; at two miles further on struck a fine large mangrove creek, a very pretty spot like an orange grove. Bearing of 321 1/2 degrees for two miles; then bearing of 35 degrees, crossed the sea running in through mangrove creeks into the flats like a sluice, and camped at a lagoon and couple of fresh water-holes close by the river at one mile. We are now perfectly surrounded by salt water, the river on one side and the mangrove creeks and salt flats on the other; I question much whether we shall be able to get to the beach with the horses. Since noon the wind changed to north-north-west; country very much burnt by the natives—it was dry enough as it was without the additional use of fire. Lots of the waterlily in bloom on all the deep waterholes and lagoons, and a very handsome tree with dark green foliage and a beautiful yellow blossom, and completely loaded with a round fruit of the size of a crab-apple, now green, and containing a number of large-sized seeds, some of which have been gathered, but I fancy they are too green to save the seed.
Monday, May 19.
Camp 60. In camp near the river where are caught occasionally by the party a few fish, amongst others a young shark which however was not eaten; started out this morning with the intention of going to the beach, taking with me Middleton, Poole, Wylde and Kirby, but was quite unsuccessful, being hindered by deep and broad mangrove creeks and boggy flats over which our horses could not travel. I consider we are now about four or five miles from the coast; there is a rise here in the river of six and two-thirds feet today but yesterday it was a foot higher; killed our three remaining sheep and will retrace our steps on 21st.
Tuesday, May 20.
Camp 60. Wind yesterday from north and north and east, at daylight this morning from north, and during the day pretty nearly from all quarters; afternoon kept more steady from east; sent Hodgkinson and Poole to the salt flats to collect what will be sufficient for our homeward rambles, or rather the Queensland settled districts, where we hope to arrive in due time, the state of the clothing of the party and want of various things—the principal thing, food, has prevented my directing the steps of the party to the settled districts of South Australia. A few natives came to the opposite side of the river this morning during flood-tide and got up in the trees, and I was a long time in getting any of them persuaded to cross; at length two of them and then another middle-aged man ventured on my displaying a tomahawk to them; they were of the ordinary stamp, and strange to say were neither circumcised nor had they any of their front teeth out, but were marked down the upper part of the arm and on the breast and back; after making them a few presents they recrossed; no information from them, but perhaps we may see something more of them on a future day. Hodgkinson and Poole returned with from forty to fifty pounds of good salt, sufficient for our purpose, and we start in the morning to proceed as far as the Falls, and cross the river there in the event of not finding a crossing earlier, which I don't expect. The camels I am sorry to say are getting lame by the burnt stumps of reeds and strong coarse grass entering the soles of their feet, I hope they will soon recover. If the bar at the mouth of the river will admit vessels to enter there is a sufficiency of water at all tides to ship horses or stock from alongside the banks without any wharf or anything else, and good country to depasture upon, but the grasses too strong generally for sheep.
Wednesday, May 21.
Camp 60. Commenced our journey for Port Denison, wind east-south-east. I forgot to mention before that, running parallel with the river between this camp and our last, are small ironstone and conglomerate ridges, with abundance of feed and good sound ground wooded with the silver leaf, dwarf gum-looking tree, and various others of no great growth but sightly, and in the ridges, which are of no height to speak of, there are splendid freshwater lagoons and creeks; came to a lagoon about two and a half miles south-south-west of our 59 camp on nearly our old tracks; splendid feed and water. Just as we had started in the morning the natives made their appearance on the trees on the opposite side of the river but did not attempt to cross. I suppose we will see enough of them on our eastern route; this part of the country is well watered and no end of feed; plenty of it higher than I am, and a considerable variety; the remainder of our sheep, even with their long journey, fell off but little.
Thursday, May 22.
Return Camp 1. Beautiful morning; this lagoon is about twelve feet deep, surrounded by a marsh with abundance of green feed. Not a breath of wind at sunrise. West of this camp about two and a half miles off is a considerable-sized creek, by the overflow of which this lagoon is formed and fed; plenty of water in the creek and in side creeks from it, and most excellent timber on its banks and flats for building purposes; it comes up from south-west and after passing this bears off considerably to west of north. I have called it the Fisher after C.B. Fisher, Esquire, of Adelaide. Returned today by my north-going track, the approaches to the river were so abrupt that I could not get a crossing-place; some of the banks nearly precipitous and from one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet high, although I saw rocks right across the river and could have gone over, but could not ascend the banks so came to camp at a lagoon close to the creek, three and a half miles north 25 1/2 degrees west of Falls camp. This creek, which comes up from the south-west and flows past this for some miles yet before it joins the river about north-north-east of this, I have called Boord's Creek after Samuel Boord, Esquire, of Adelaide.
Friday, May 23.
Camp 2. Started on bearing of 135 degrees; at starting crossed the creek, and at three and a half miles made the river where it is joined by another of quite equal size apparently but no crossing-place; so had to go about one mile south-south-west to the Falls and crossed there with some difficulty, getting one of the camels and several of the horses down on the clefts of the rocks and barking their knees a little: just after crossing and proceeding on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees a marked tree was observed, the first we had seen, and then close by two others, evidently by Mr. Landsborough. They were respectively marked on the large tree next the Falls, a large broad-leafed tree, arrow at 1 o'clock LFE. 15, 1862. C.5. On the northernmost of the other two trees, about twenty paces to eastward of the large tree, are a large arrow at 1 o'clock and L facing the west, and on the other gumtree, a few feet north-east, is the letter E of large dimensions; facing the opposite way or east we dug round the tree but could find nothing deposited; saw the remains of broken bottles and fancied from the broad arrow being pointed upwards that a document in a small bottle might have been suspended high up in the tree and got at by the natives, but on after consideration I took the meaning of the arrow being up that up the river was his course; we saw the traces of his horses at the marked trees, but the tracks must be quite obliterated up the river or we must have seen something of them; indeed the heavy rain that inundated the whole country south commenced where we were on the 27th February, and perhaps he had it a little earlier, which may account for our not seeing any traces of him ere this. Which way he may have gone under the circumstances is hard to say, as no doubt he experienced very rough wet weather indeed, and probably was put to many shifts in consequence of the heavy overflow of the immense creeks. At scarcely one mile on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees we came to the falls of the other branch of the river, and crossed it much more easily than the other; it is about 400 to 500 yards broad and all conglomerate stone, and quite treeless or nearly so on its banks as far as the stones went, it then bore off to the south-east or perhaps east of that; at three miles further, seeing ridges ahead on our course, we camped at a swamp; lots of geese and ibis. Marked a small tree near Landsborough's with MK (conjoined), May 22, 1862, with a knife, as we had no chisel or gouge, they being lost.
Saturday, May 24.
Camp 3. Heavy dew of late; last afternoon wind fresh from west-south-west; same this morning but light; geese and all game very difficult to be got at in this part of the country. Natives burning in all directions but do not approach us; I almost fancy they have been reproved for some of their misdeeds to some one or other of the parties here lately, from their shyness. Bearing of 95 1/2 degrees, half a mile stony flat; one mile, stony ridge and ironstone flat; two and three-quarter miles small creek; lagoon with plenty of water. North-north-east open undulations rather swampy; at three and three-quarter miles struck and crossed a small creek with a little water, stony ridges (ironstone) rusty gum, spinifex, etc.; at eleven and three-quarter miles crossed creek with water from north-east. Left creek at 11.45; stony ridges, ironstone and slate, with a little spinifex; rather thickly wooded with rusty gum, silver-leafed gum, etc.; anthills, turreted shapes. At twenty-one and three-quarter miles came to and crossed a creek on a plain between ranges; it flows north and east and takes its rise in the ranges close by to the south-west; plenty of water and feed. Camped at 3.30 p.m.; take three and a quarter miles off journey = eighteen and a half.
Sunday, May 25.
Camp 4. No dew; started at 8.35 a.m.; wind south a.m.; afternoon south-east. Over half a mile open plain; then ridges, and on top of first range at 9.53; very rocky; spinifex, rusty gum, etc. At twenty minutes past ten stony flat; at twenty-five minutes past ten crossed creek; at 12 o'clock along creek on the left; at 12.15 rocky hill on right and lagoon with water close under; top of next hill at 12.50; at 1.5 on the open plains and undulations and pretty well clear of the stones. Tier of ranges immediately on the left for a mile or so; at 2.18 crossed dry creek from west-south-west; at 2.28 came to another creek from the south-west. They are both dry where struck; followed the last one down, bearing of 60 degrees for one-third of a mile; water in creek and in a lagoon on the east side; travelling about six hours besides the one-third of a mile. Creek flows to north-east; distance about eighteen miles.
Monday, May 26.
Camp 5. I find that my watch, the only one in going order or rather disorder, gains eleven minutes in the hour with the regulator hard back to slow—now and then, without any apparent cause, stops; until by sundry shakings and bumps it is prevailed upon to go again—which is most unsatisfactory, situated as I am here, in calculating distances. Wind all night strong from south-east to south-south-east and very cold; no dew. The waters are drying up very fast; during the afternoon of yesterday the country looked well; nice open ranges on all sides with a large space of open country, well grassed in the centre. Started at 8.15 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 9.17 passed till this time rather thickly wooded (low) small ironstone, pebbly country, well grassed—ridgy on both sides; at 9.17 entered open plains; large creek ahead; first part of plain much subject to inundation; at 11.24 lagoon apparently about one mile south. Hills cease south about four miles; passed a couple of belts of timber, mistaken in the distance for large creek. At 1 p.m. swampy (dry); at 1.15 small creek with plenty of water and feed, from west-south-west to north-east or east-north-east; at 1.30 made a swamp with good feed and water. Camped; distance about seventeen miles. The horizon appears to be one dense cloud of fire and smoke on our way and on all sides of us; saw no natives.
Tuesday, May 27.
Camp 6. Cold keen wind from south-south-east. The camels I am sorry to say are very lame, caused by the burnt reeds running through the soles of their feet whilst near the coast; boots of leather have been made for the worst of them but they seem to suffer much, and it pulls the flesh off them more than their work. Started at 8.40 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 9.15 lagoon close by on the left; country all burnt. At 9.45 struck large creek with abundance of water, boggy where struck; spelled, looking for a crossing till 10.5. Went down the creek north-east or east-north-east till 10.16; then on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees, till at 10.23 struck what I take to be Morning Inlet, about 150 yards broad with reeds and grass, no water at crossing; 10.42 left Morning Inlet where we watered horses. At 2.53 p.m. changed course to 32 1/2 degrees for a belt of timber, thinking to camp; no water. At 3.12 p.m. changed course to 95 1/2 degrees till three minutes to five, when changed course to 135 degrees until 5.39, then on bearing of 75 degrees till 6.21; no water, but a very little drop about half a mile back, to which place I returned and found there was even less than I expected. This is a most deceitful part of the country; every five minutes you are in expectation of coming to water but it was our fate to meet none but this muddy little drop, barely sufficient for our own use, and none for the animals. From about 3 p.m. till we camped heavy belts of swampy box and large gums; many patches of reeds and coarse grass; water recently dried up; and belts of plain. Numerous birds seen—cockatoos, hawks, crows, galahs, etc. etc. etc.
Wednesday, May 28.
Camp 7. The bullocks (two) with Palmer and Kirby on horseback and Maitland on foot did not come up to camp last night, but immediately after sunrise the two horsemen and bullocks arrived, but not Maitland, he being on foot from having injured his horse so much as to render him unfit to ride, as is his usual way with every horse he gets, taking no care of him whatever. I told him when he injured the last that if he did the same to this one he should walk; and good to my word I made him walk yesterday. Rode a short distance at sunrise, having heard some native companions calling out after daylight, and found within a quarter of a mile of us, almost within view, two splendid lagoons. Immediately returned to camp and moved it at once to the nearest one; it bears from last night's camp nearly due south, a quarter of a mile or little over; the other lagoon is distant about 300 yards south-east of this. Great abundance of feed. As the camels are lame and in need of a spell and we want to kill a bullock and Maitland not come up yet I have made up my mind to stop here till all are put in travelling order. In the morning the wind bitterly cold from south-east to south-south-east. Middleton has been laid up for the last three days and lost the use of his legs yesterday afternoon but hope he will soon be all right again. He is much better today; I should get on indifferently without him. Although we met with no water coming along last afternoon I have no doubt but that there was plenty of it, as the natives were burning everywhere as we came along, particularly close on our right. It is still a splendid country for grass and timber. As soon as we moved to camp we had one of the bullocks (Boxer) up and killed; he is very fair beef. The other is not so good, but stands being kept in hobbles; whereas this one would not or he would have been kept till last on account of his better condition. Providentially Maitland made his way to camp late this afternoon. Had we been obliged to go on again a stage without luckily hitting upon this place I think he would have gone frantic as he appeared in a sad state of mind on his arrival; I hope it will be a caution to him in future to see to his horse better.
Thursday, May 29.
Camp 8. Wind as yesterday and cool. I am sorry to say I have three of the party on the sicklist—all seized first with cold shivering then excessive heat, ultimately a numbness and want of proper use of their limbs, sickness, and want of appetite and headache. They are Middleton, Hodgkinson, and Kirby. They are confined to bed; but I hope with a little care will soon recover, as it is an awkward part of the world to be taken ill in. Getting the meat jerked and putting the pack-bags, etc., to rights. The other bullock as yet appears to stay contented; he came up during the night and took a survey of his dead companion and quietly returned to his feed.
Friday, May 30.
Camp 8. Wind as usual, south-east to south-south-east; keen and cold, the day pretty warm. The invalids I think a little better, but far from well. The sore-footed camels improve; but my impression is that their feet will not thoroughly get well till they arrive in the settled districts where they can have a spell for some time. Meat-drying, bag-mending, horse-shoeing, with other little matters. If these lagoons are permanent (and no doubt there are many more) this is a splendid pastoral country, feed good enough for any stock and timber to suit almost any purpose. There are here several fruit-bearing trees but unfortunately the stone happens to be the largest portion of the fruit and at present none of them are ripe. A vast quantity of large beans are here on a runner, the same that Dr. Leichhardt used, when burnt, for coffee and rather seemed to like. None of our party seem to care trying it, although we have now nothing but meat and salt and from four to five pounds of flour to make gruel in case of sickness. All have been till within the last few days in excellent health and nowise short of appetite. From the time we are out beyond what was anticipated I suppose the people of Adelaide have given us up as lost. I hope however they will not think it necessary to send a search party out after us.
Saturday, May 31.
Patients about the same. Middleton rather worse. Wind in the morning from south-east and south-south-east, at midday changed to east, then north and afterwards to north-north-west. Meat nearly dry.
Sunday, June 1.
Still in Camp 8. Patients about the same, very weak and feverish, but must endeavour to make a move tomorrow. Wind from north, north-west to west, and rather warm. Had a visit from a number of natives, they do not appear so shy as usual; they do not circumcise but have one or two teeth out in front of upper jaw. From what I could see the young men are not allowed to talk, but merely making a hissing and twittering noise to make themselves understood, and pointing and motioning with the hand whilst the old men do the talking business. I could make but little out of them. I made them a few presents with which they seemed much pleased; got a few words of their language and with a promise to return tomorrow they took their leave. They are not at all such a good sample as are at the lakes north and east of Lake Hope. They say there is plenty of water ahead on the course I intend to take, but from want of knowledge of their language could glean nothing of the parties that came in search to the north coast; but that they have seen whites was quite evident from their knowledge of the use of the axe. They seemed much in dread of the camels, the only animals that were near the camp at the time, and expressed by motions a desire that they should be driven away.
Monday, June 2.
Camp 8. The heaviest dew last night I have experienced for many years, accompanied by a dense fog till between 8 and 9 a.m. Wind from west-north-west. Palmer attacked with same fever that the rest have. The others very weak but I think a little better. Made a start this morning at 9.20 a.m. on bearing of 95 1/2 degrees; at 10.14 lagoon on right; at 10.27 crossed creek with plenty of water from south-south-west; at 11.50 lagoon on right—all forest land with a greater number of the paper-bark tree than any other; at 11.15 much spinifex; at 11.20 creek close on left with plenty of water; at 11.35 crossed creek, it goes off into many lagoons southwards and eastwards; good grass and plenty of water, not much spinifex, the country rather too thickly wooded to be open forest. Halted at lagoons on the left at 1.20 coming from south of east and flowing to north of west. Although this country is rather too thickly wooded to be called open forest it is still an excellent pastoral country, the grasses sweet and plenty of water, the lagoons being covered with nymphans or waterlily, and the soil sandy. We passed many patches of burnt ground, some burnt earlier than the rest, having green grass nine to twelve inches high. Stopped short today on account of the patients who are very weak, Kirby in particular; distance travelled twelve and a half miles. In the afternoon wind from west-north-west. Saw nothing of the natives this morning before starting. Several palms seen through the forest, a few close by this camp of no great height; the feed in general is very dry except in the neighbourhood of the creeks or lagoons.
Tuesday, June 3.
Camp 9. Wind south; considerable dew but nothing to the night before. There is a good deal of spinifex here and the timber is nothing like so strong or good as around yesterday's camp and for miles on all sides of it. Three creeks appear to rise here and join and become one, all from the southward of east to north of west. Started at 9.8 a.m., the horses having strayed some distance back to the burnt feed. Bearing 95 1/2 degrees, open forest with spinifex; at 10.30 crossed small creek (dry); at 10.45 crossed small sandy creek (dry) water on the right; at 11.30 watered horses and then crossed creek from west-south-west to east-north-east, small creek from south joins close by; at 1.25 crossed creek with water; at 2.12 crossed sandy creek from north-east to south and another close by, then scrub and rather thick forest till 5.50, then camped no water; distance about twenty-six and a half to twenty-seven miles. One of the horses (Harry) after being ridden into camp appeared to blow a good deal and from little to more till at last he got seriously ill and died at 9 p.m. He must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake.