CHAPTER II/III.

I would gladly have given my poor horses a longer rest than prudence would have justified, but we had not time for rest. At 8 we again mounted, and went slowly on; and when darkness closed around us lit a small lamp, and one of us walking in front led the way for the others to follow; thus tracking our way over those dreary regions all night long, we neared our last remaining well, 36 miles distant from the creek, just as morning dawned. Objects were still obscure as we approached the spot where our hopes rested, for our horses could hardly drag one foot after the other. Mr. Stuart was in front, and called to me that he saw the little trees under whose shade we had slept; soon after he said he saw something glittering where the well was, and immediately after shouted out, "Water, water." It is impossible for me to record all this without a feeling of more than thankfulness to the Almighty Power that guided us. At this place we were still 180 miles from Fort Grey; and if we had not found this supply, it is more than probable the fate of our horses would have sealed our own. As it was we joyfully unsaddled, and, after watering, turned them out to feed. Singular it was that the well on which we had least dependence, and from which we had been longest absent, should thus have held out--but so it was. At 9 we resumed our journey, there being about half a gallon a-piece for the horses just before we started; but although this, and the short rest they had, had relieved them, they got on slowly; and it was not until after midnight of the 27th, a.m. indeed of the 28th, that we reached the creek, with two short of our complement of horses, the Roan and the Colt both having dropped on the plains, but fortunately at no great distance, so that we recovered them in the course of the day.

It will naturally be supposed that, arrived at a place of safety, we here rested for a while; but my mind was no sooner relieved from one cause for anxiety, than it was filled with another. If I except the thunder-storm which had enabled me to undertake my late journey from the creek, no rain had fallen, the weather had suddenly become oppressively hot, with a sky as clear as ether. I had still the mountain range to the N.E. to examine, and the upper branches of the creek, and in this necessary survey I knew no time was to be lost. Indeed I doubted if my return to the Depot was not already shut out, by the drying up of the water in Strzelecki's Creek, although I hoped Mr. Browne still held his ground; but not only was I anxious on these heads, but as to our eventual retreat from these heartless regions. I would gladly have rested for a few days, for I was beginning to feel weak. From the 20th of July, and it was now the last day but two of October, I had been in constant exercise from sunrise to sunset; and if I except the few days I had rested at the Depot, had slept under the canopy of heaven. My food had been insufficient to support me, and I had a malady hanging upon me that was slowly doing its work; but I felt that I had no time to spare, and, as I could not justify indulgence to myself, so on the 29th we commenced our progress up the creek, but halted at six miles on a beautiful sheet of water, and with every promise of success. In the course of the day we passed a singularly large grave. It was twenty-three feet long, and fourteen broad. The boughs on the top of it were laid so as to meet the oval shape of the mound itself, but the trees were not carved, nor were there any walks about it, as I had seen in other parts of the continent.

Native Grave

Native Grave

Native Grave

Before we commenced our journey up the creek, I determined to secrete all the stores I could, in order to lighten the loads of the horses as much as possible, for they were now almost worn out; but it was difficult to say where we should conceal them, so as to be secure from the quick eyes of the natives. At first I thought my best plan would be to dig a hole and bury them, and then to light a fire, so as to obliterate the marks; but I changed my purpose, and placed them under a rhagodia bush, a short distance from the creek, and arranged some boughs all round it. In this place I hoped they would escape observation, for there were one or two things I should have exceedingly regretted to lose.

The weather had been getting warmer and warmer, and it had at this time become so hot that it was almost intolerable, worse indeed than at this season the previous year. The 30th was a day of oppressive heat, and the flies and mosquitoes were more than usually troublesome. I have not said much of these insects in the course of this narrative, for after all they are secondary objects only; but it is impossible to describe the ceaseless annoyance of these and a small ant. The latter swarmed in myriads in the creek and on the plains, and what with these little creatures at night, and the flies by day, we really had no rest. I continually wore a veil, or I could not have attended to our movements, or performed my duties. It is probable that being in the neighbourhood of water they were more numerous, but here they were a perfect plague, and in our depressed and wearied condition we, perhaps, felt their attacks more than we should otherwise have done. We commenced our journey at seven, and crossing the creek at three-quarters of a mile, ascended a small sand hill upon its proper left bank. Where we had crossed the channel was perfectly dry, but from the sand hill another magnificent sheet of water stretched away to the southeast as far as we could see.

Cooper's Creek

Cooper's Creek

Cooper's Creek

From this point the creek appeared to be bounded by forest land, partly scrubby and partly grassed. To the south there were flats seemingly subject to floods, and lightly timbered, and beyond these were low sand hills. To the S.W. a high line of trees marked the course of a tributary from that quarter. To the north the country was exceedingly sandy and low, as well as to the east; and the direction of the sand ridges was only 5 degrees to the west of north, so that from this point to our extreme west they gradually alter their line 17 degrees, as in 138 degrees of longitude they ran 22 degrees to the west of north. I was not able to take more than one bearing from the hill I had ascended, to a remarkable flat-topped hill nearly N.E. I now crossed the creek on an east course, and traversed sandy plains, and low undulations, there being a tolerable quantity of grass on both; and at four miles changed the route a little to the northward for a small conical sand hill, from which the flat-topped hill bore 41 degrees, and from it some darker hills were visible, somewhat more to the eastward, and as they appeared to be different from the sand ridges, I again changed my course for them, and crossing the bed of the creek at four miles, ascended a small stony range trending to the eastward, the creek being directly at their base. Following up its proper left bank I ascended another part of the range at three miles and a half, from which the flat-topped hill bore 24 degrees, and the last hill I had ascended 239 degrees. The channel of the creek had been dry for several miles, but we now saw a large sheet of water bearing due east, distant two miles, to which we made our way, and then stopped. From the top of this range the creek seemed to pass over extensive and bare plains in many branches, southward there were some stony hills, treeless and herbless, like those nearer to us. I was fairly driven down to the valley by the flies, as numerous on the burning stones on the top of the hill as any where else, and I left a knife and a pocket handkerchief behind me. Notwithstanding the magnificent sheet of water we were now resting near, I began thus early to doubt the character of this creek. It had changed so often during the day, at one place having a broad channel, at another splitting into numerous small ones, having a great portion of its bed dry, and then presenting large and beautiful reaches to view, that I hardly knew what opinion to form of it; I also observed that it was leading away from the hills and taking us into a low and desolate region, almost as bad as that to the westward; however, time alone was to prove whether I was right in my surmises.

In the afternoon two natives made their appearance on the opposite side of the water, and I walked over to them, as I could not by any signs induce them to come to us. They were not bad looking men, and had lost their two front teeth of the upper jaw. To one I gave a tomahawk, and a hook to the other, but when I rose to depart, they gave them both back to me, and were astonished to find that I had intended them as presents. Seeing, I suppose, that we intended them no injury, these men in the morning went on with their ordinary occupations, and swimming into the middle of the water began to dive for mussels. They looked like two seals in the water with their black heads, and seemed to be very expert: at all events they were not long in procuring a breakfast.

Notwithstanding the misgivings I had as to the creek, the paths of the natives became wider and wider as we advanced. They were now as broad as a footpath in England, by a road side, and were well trodden; numerous huts of boughs also lined the creek, so that it was evident we were advancing into a well peopled country, and this circumstance raised my hopes that it would improve. As, however, our horses had no longer a gallop in them, we found it necessary to keep a sharp look out; although the natives with whom we had communicated, did not appear anxious to leave the place as they generally are to tell the news of our being on the creek to others above us.

On the 31st we started at 7 a.m., and at a mile and a half found ourselves at the termination of the stony ranges to our left. They fell back to the north, and a larger plain succeeded them. At two miles we crossed a small tributary, and passed over a stony plain, from which we entered an open box-tree forest extending far away to our left. At five miles and a half we found ourselves again on the banks of the creek, where it had an upper and a lower channel, that is to say, it had a lower channel for the stream, and an upper one independently of it. In the lower bed there was a little water, and we therefore stopped for a short time, the day being exceedingly hot. While here we saw a native at some water a little lower down, mending a net, but did not call to him. On resuming our journey we kept in the upper channel, and had not ridden very far when we saw a native about 150 yards ahead of us, pulling boughs. On getting nearer we called out to him, but to no purpose. At the distance of about 70 yards, we called out again, but still he did not hear, perhaps because of the rustling of the boughs he was breaking down. At length he bundled them up, and throwing them over his shoulder, turned from us to cross to the lower part of the creek, when suddenly he came bolt up against us. I cannot describe his horror and amazement,--down went his branches,--out went his hands,--and trembling from head to foot, he began to shout as loud as he could bawl. On this we pulled up, and I desired Mr. Stuart to dismount and sit down. This for a time increased the poor fellow's alarm, for he doubtless mistook man and horse for one animal, and he stretched himself out in absolute astonishment when he saw them separate. When Mr. Stuart sat down, however, he stood more erect, and he gradually got somewhat composed. His shouting had brought another black, who had stood afar off, watching the state of affairs, but who now approached. From these men I tried to gather some information, and my hopes were greatly raised from what passed between us, insomuch that one of the men could not help expressing his hope that we were now near the long sought for inland sea.

On my seeking to know, by signs, to what point the creek would lead us, the old man stretched out his hand considerably to the southward of east, and spreading out his fingers, suddenly dropped his hand, as if he desired us to understand that it commenced, as he shewed, by numerous little channels uniting into one not very far off. On asking if the natives used canoes, he threw himself into the attitude of a native propelling one, which is a peculiar stoop, in which he must have been practised. After going through the motions, he pointed due north, and turning the palm of his hand forward, made it sweep the horizon round to east, and then again put himself into the attitude of a native propelling a canoe. There certainly was no mistaking these motions. On my asking if the creek went into a large water, he intimated not, by again spreading out his hand as before and dropping it, neither did he seem to know anything of any hills. The direction he pointed to us, where there were large waters, was that over which the cold E.S.E. wind I have noticed, must have passed. This poor fellow was exceedingly communicative, but he did not cease to tremble all the while we were with him. After leaving him, the creek led us up to the northward of east, and we cut off every angle by following the broad and well beaten paths crossing from one to the other. At three miles I turned to ascend a conical sand hill, from whence the country appeared as follows: to the north were immense plains, with here and there a gum-tree on them; they were bounded in the distance by hills that I took to be the outer line of the range we purposed visiting; to the eastward the ground was undulating and woody; and southward, the prospect was bounded by low stony elevations, or a low range. The course of the creek was now north-east, in the direction of two distant sand hills. We now ran along it for seven miles, under an open box-tree forest, varying in breadth from a quarter of a mile to two miles; the creek frequently changed from a broad channel to a smaller one, but still having splendid sheets of water in it. At length, as we pushed up, it became sandy, and the lofty gum-trees that had ornamented it, gradually disappeared. Nevertheless we encamped on a beautiful spot.

The 1st of November broke bright and clear over us. Started at seven, the poor horses scarcely able to draw one leg after the other, the Roan having worn his hoof down the quick was exposed and raw, and he walked with difficulty. At a mile and a half we ascended an eminence, and to the eastward, saw a magnificent sheet of water to which we moved, and at five miles reached a low stony range, bounding the creek to the north; having ridden along a broad native path the whole of that distance, close to the edge of the above mentioned water. There were large rocks in the middle of it, and pelicans, one swan, several sea-gulls, and a number of cormorants on its bosom, together with many ducks, but none would let us within reach. We next ran on a bearing of 75 degrees, or nearly east, along a large path, crossing numerous small branches of the creek, with deep and sandy beds, and occasionally over small stony plains. At noon we were at some distance from the creek, but then went towards it. The gum-trees were no longer visible, but melaleucas, from fifteen to twenty feet high, lined its banks like a copse of young birch. We now observed a long but somewhat narrow sheet of water, to which we rode; our suspicions as to its quality being roused by its colour, and the appearance of the melaleuca. It proved, as we feared, to be slightly brackish, but not undrinkable. Near the edge of the water, or rather about four or five feet from it, there was a belt of fine weeds, between which and the shore there were myriads of small fish of all sizes swimming, similar to those we had captured to the westward, in the fourth or O'Halloran's Creek. Here then was not only the clue as to how fish got into that isolated pond, but a proof of the westerly fall of the interior, since there was now no doubt whatever, but that the whole of the country Mr. Browne and I had traversed, even to the great sand hills on this side the Stony Desert, was laid under water, and by the overflow of this great creek filled the several creeks, and inundated the several plains that we had crossed. By so unexpected a fact, was this material point discovered. The Roan, at this time, could hardly walk, and not knowing when or at what distance we might again find water, or what kind of water it would be, I stopped on reaching the upper end of this pool, but even there it had a nasty taste, nor were any fish to be seen; a kind of weed covered the bed of the creek, and it looked like an inlet of the sea.

I was exceedingly surprised that we had not seen more natives, and momentarily expected to come on some large tribe, but did not, and what was very singular, all the paths were to the right, and none on the southern bank of the creek.

The weather continued intensely hot, and the flies swarmed in hundreds of thousands. The sky was without a cloud, either by day or night, and I could not but be apprehensive as to the consequences if rain should not fall; it was impossible that the largest pools could stand the rapid evaporation that was going on, but I did not deem it right to unburden my mind, even to Mr. Stuart, at this particular juncture.

On the morning of the 2nd of November the horses strayed for the first time, and delayed us for more than two hours, and we were after all indebted to three natives for their recovery, who had seen them and pointed out the direction in which they were. It really was a distressing spectacle to see them brought up, but their troubles and sufferings were not yet over. The Roan was hardly able to move along, and in pity I left him behind to wander at large along the sunny banks of the finest water-course we had discovered.

Starting at 10 a.m. we crossed the creek, and traversed a large sandy plain, intersected by numerous native paths, that had now become as wide as an ordinary gravel walk. From this plain we observed a thin white line along the eastern horizon. The plain itself was also of white sand, and had many stones upon it, similar in substance and shape to those on the Stony Desert, but there was, not withstanding, some grass upon it. A little above where we had slept, we struck a turn or angle of the creek where there was a beautiful sheet of water, but of a deep indigo blue colour. This was as salt as brine, insomuch that no animal could possibly have lived in it, and we observed water trickling into it from many springs on both sides. At four miles when we again struck the creek, after having crossed the plain, the water was perfectly fresh and sweet in a large pool close to which we passed. Here again there were several sea-gulls sitting on the rocks in the water, and a good many cormorants in the trees, yet I do not think there were any fish in this basin; I have no other reason for so thinking, however, than that we never saw any, either swimming in the water or rising to its surface in the coolness of evening on the sheets of fresh water. There might, however, have been fish of large size in the deep pools of this creek, although I would observe that I had two reasons for believing otherwise. The first was, that, the meshes of the nets used by the natives, of which we examined several hanging in the trees, were very small, and that among the fish bones at the natives' fires, we never saw any of a larger size than those we had ourselves captured, and it was evident that at this particular time, it was not the fishing season. I was led to think, that the water in which we noticed so many swimming about, was sacred, and that it is only when the creek overflows, that the fish are generally distributed along its whole line, that the natives take them. Certainly, to judge from the smooth and delicate appearance of the weeds round that sheet of water the fish were not disturbed.

We had been riding for some time on the proper right {LEFT in published text} bank of the creek, but I at length crossed to the right and altered my course to E.S.E., but shortly afterwards ran due east across earthy plains covered with grass in tufts and very soft, but observing that I had got outside of the native tracks, and that there was no indication of the creek in front, I turned to the S.E. and at five miles struck a small sandy channel which I searched in vain for water; I therefore left it, crossing many similar channels still on a S.E. course; but observing that they all had level sandy beds, I gave up the hope of finding water in them and turned to the south, as the horses were not in a condition to suffer from want. At about two miles I ascended a sand hill, but could not see any thing of the creek; it was now getting late and two of the horses were hardly able to get along. Had we halted then, there was not a tree or a bush to which we could have tethered our animals, anxious too to get them to water I turned to the west, and at a mile got on a native path, that ultimately led me to the creek, and we pulled up at a small pond, where there was better feed than we had any right to expect.

We had hardly arranged our bivouac, when we heard a most melancholy howling over an earthen bank directly opposite to us, and saw seven black heads slowly advancing towards us. I therefore sent Mr. Stuart to meet the party and bring them up. The group consisted of a very old blind man, led by a younger one, and five women. They all wept most bitterly, and the women uttered low melancholy sounds, but we made them sit down and managed to allay their fears. It is impossible to say how old the man was, but his hair was white as snow, and he had one foot in the grave.

These poor creatures must have observed us coming, and being helpless, had I suppose thought it better to come forward, for they had their huts immediately on the other side of the bank over which they ventured. We gave the old man a great coat, as the most useful present, and he seemed delighted with it. I saw that it was hopeless to expect any information from this timid party, so I made no objection to their leaving us after staying for about half an hour. Our latitude here, by an altitude of Jupiter, was 27 degrees 47 minutes S.; our longitude by account 141 degrees 51 minutes E.

The plains we had crossed during the day were very extensive, stretching from the north-west, to the south-east, like an open sea. They were thinly scattered over with box-trees, and comprised hundreds of thousands of acres of flooded grassy land. It is worthy of remark that none of these plains existed to the south of the creek, in which quarter the country was very barren, neither were there any native paths. We were at this time in too low a position to see any of the mountain ranges of which I have spoken. As the old native with the boughs had told us, the creek led us to the southward of east, and consequently away from them, and I feared that his further information would prove correct, and that we should soon arrive at its commencement.

The morning of the 3rd of November was as cloudy as the night of the 2nd had been, during which it blew violently from the N.W., and a few heat-drops fell, but without effect on the temperature. One of the horses got bogged in attempting to drink, and Mack's illness made it nine before we mounted and resumed our journey up the creek, on a N.N.E. course, but it gradually came round to north. At six miles we crossed the small and sandy bed of a creek coming from the stony plains to the south, and beneath a tree, near two huts, observed a large oval stone. It was embedded in the ground, and was evidently used by the natives for pounding seeds. We now proceeded along a broad native path towards some gum-trees, having stony undulating hills upon our right. Underneath the trees there was a fine deep pool in the channel of the creek, which had again assumed something of its original shape; but as we were in an immense hollow or bowl, and the view was very limited, I branched off to the hills, then not more than half a mile distant. From their summit the country to the south and south-west appeared darkly covered with brush; to the west, there were numerous stony undulations; northward and to the east were immense grassy plains, with many creeks, all making for a common centre upon them. In the near ground to the south-east, the surface of the country was of fine white sand, partly covered with salsolaceous plants, with small fragments of stone, and patches of more grassy land. There was no fixed point on which to take a bearing, nor could we see anything of the higher ranges, now to the north-west of us.

In returning to the creek, we observed a body of natives to our left. They were walking in double file, and approaching us slowly. I therefore pulled up, and sent Mr. Stuart forward on foot, following myself with his horse. As he neared them the natives sat down, and he walked up and sat down in front of them. The party consisted of two chiefs and fourteen young men and boys. The former sat in front and the latter were ranged in two rows behind. The two chiefs wept as usual, and in truth shed tears, keeping their eyes on the ground; but Mr. Stuart, after the interview, informed me that the party behind were laughing at them and sticking their tongues in their cheeks. One of the chiefs was an exceedingly tall man, since he could not have measured less than six feet three inches, and was about 24 years of age. He was painted with red ochre, and his body shone as if he had been polished with Warren's best blacking. His companion was older and of shorter stature. We soon got on good terms with them, and I made a present of a knife to each. They told us, as intelligibly as it was possible for them to do, that we were going away from water; that there was no more water to the eastward, and, excepting in the creek, none anywhere but to the N.E. I had observed, indeed, that the native paths had altogether ceased on the side of the creek on which we then were (the south or left bank), and the chief pointed that fact out to me, explaining that we should have to cross the creek at the head of the water, under the trees, and get on a path that would lead us to the N.E. On this I rose up and mounting my horse, riding quietly towards it, descended into the bed of the creek, in which the natives had their huts, but their women and children were not there. The two chiefs and the other natives had followed, but, the former only crossed the creek and accompanied us. We almost immediately struck on the native path which, as my tall friend had informed me, led direct to the N.E.

I was not at first aware, what object our new friends had in following or rather accompanying us; but, at about a mile and a half, we came to a native hut at which there was an old man and his two lubras. The tall young man introduced him to us as his father, in consequence of which I dismounted, and shook hands with the old gentleman, and, as I had no hatchet or knife to give him, I parted my blanket and gave him half of it. We then pro ceeded on our journey, attended as before, and at a mile, came on two huts, at which there were from twelve to fifteen natives. Here again we were introduced by our long-legged friend, who kept pace with our animals with ease, and after a short parley once more moved on, but were again obliged to stop with another tribe, rather more numerous than the last, who were encamped on a dirty little puddle of water that was hardly drinkable; however, they very kindly asked us to stay and sleep, an honour I begged to decline. Thus, in the space of less than five miles, we were introduced to four different tribes, whose collective numbers amounted to seventy-one. The huts of these natives were constructed of boughs, and were of the usual form, excepting those of the last tribe, which were open behind, forming elliptic arches of boughs, and the effect was very pretty.

These good folks also asked us to stop, and I thought I saw an expression of impatience on the countenance of my guide when I declined, and turned my horse to move on. We had been riding on a sandy kind of bank, higher than the flooded ground around us. The plains extended on either side to the north and east, nor could we distinctly trace the creek beyond the trees at the point we had crossed it, but there were a few gum-trees separated by long intervals, that still slightly marked its course. When we left the last tribe, we rode towards a sand hill about half a mile in front, and had scarcely gone from the huts when our ambassadors, for in such a light I suppose I must consider them, set off at a trot and getting a-head of us disappeared over the sand hill. I was too well aware of the customs of these people, not to anticipate that there was something behind the scene, and I told Mr. Stuart that I felt satisfied we had not yet seen the whole of the population of this creek; but I was at a loss to conjecture why they should have squatted down at such muddy puddles, when there were such magnificent sheets of water for them to encamp upon, at no great distance; however, we reached the hill soon after the natives had gone over it, and on gaining the summit were hailed with a deafening shout by 3 or 400 natives, who were assembled in the flat below. I do not know, that my desire to see the savage in his wild state, was ever more gratified than on this occasion, for I had never before come so suddenly upon so large a party. The scene was one of the most animated description, and was rendered still more striking from the circumstance of the native huts, at which there were a number of women and children, occupying the whole crest of a long piece of rising ground at the opposite side of the flat.

I checked my horse for a short time on the top of the sand hill, and gazed on the assemblage of agitated figures below me, covering so small a space that I could have enclosed the whole under a casting net, and then quietly rode down into the flat, followed by Mr. Stuart and my men, to one of whom I gave my horse when I dismounted, and then walked to the natives, by whom Mr. Stuart and myself were immediately surrounded.

Had these people been of an unfriendly temper, we could not by any possibility have escaped them, for our horses could not have broken into a canter to save our lives or their own. We were therefore wholly in their power, although happily for us perhaps, they were not aware of it; but, so far from exhibiting any unkind feeling, they treated us with genuine hospitality, and we might certainly have commanded whatever they had. Several of them brought us large troughs of water, and when we had taken a little, held them up for our horses to drink; an instance of nerve that is very remarkable, for I am quite sure that no white man, (having never seen or heard of a horse before, and with the natural apprehension the first sight of such an animal would create,) would deliberately have walked up to what must have appeared to them most formidable brutes, and placing the troughs they carried against their breast, have allowed the horses to drink, with their noses almost touching them. They likewise offered us some roasted ducks, and some cake. When we walked over to their camp, they pointed to a large new hut, and told us we could sleep there, but I had noticed a little hillock on which there were four box-trees, about fifty yards from the native encampment, on which, foreseeing that we could go no farther, I had already determined to remain, and on my intimating this to the natives they appeared highly delighted; we accordingly went to the trees, and unsaddling our animals turned them out to feed. When the natives saw us quietly seated they came over, and brought a quantity of sticks for us to make a fire, wood being extremely scarce.

The men of this tribe were, without exception, the finest of any I had seen on the Australian Continent. Their bodies were not disfigured by any scars, neither were their countenances by the loss of any teeth, nor were they circumcised. They were a well-made race, with a sufficiency of muscular development, and stood as erect as it was possible to do, without the unseemly protrusion of stomach, so common among the generality of natives. Of sixty-nine who I counted round me at one time, I do not think there was one under my own height, 5 feet 10 3/4 inches, but there were several upwards of 6 feet. The children were also very fine, and I thought healthier and better grown than most I had seen, but I observed here, as elsewhere amongst smaller tribes, that the female children were more numerous than the males, why such should be the case, it is difficult to say. Whilst, however, I am thus praising the personal appearance of the men, I am sorry to say I observed but little improvement in the fairer sex. They were the same half-starved unhappy looking creatures whose condition I have so often pitied elsewhere.

These were a merry people and seemed highly delighted at our visit, and if one or two of them were a little forward, I laid it to the account of curiosity and a feeling of confidence in their own numbers. But a little thing checked them, nor did they venture to touch our persons, much less to put their hands into our pockets, as the natives appear to have done, in the case of another explorer. It is a liberty I never allowed any native to take, not only because I did not like it, but because I am sure it must have the effect of lowering the white man in the estimation of the savage, and diminishing those feelings of awe and inferiority, which are the European's best security against ill treatment. The natives told us, that there was no water to the eastward, and that if we went there we should all die. They explained that the creek commenced on the plains, by spreading out their fingers as the old man had done, to shew that many small channels made a large one, pointing to the creek, and they said the water was all gone to the place we had come from; meaning, to the lower part of it. On asking them by signs, if the creek continued beyond the plains, they shook their heads, and again put their extended hand on the ground, pointing to the plain. They could give us no account of the ranges to which I proposed going, any more than others we had asked. On inquiring, if there was any water to the north-west a long discussion took place, and it was ultimately decided that there was not. I could understand, that several of them mentioned the names of places where they supposed there might be water, but it was evidently the general opinion that there was none. Neither did they appear to know of any large waters, on which the natives had canoes, in confirmation of the old man's actions. On this interesting and important point they were wholly ignorant.

The smallness of the water-hole, on which these people depended, was quite a matter of surprise to me, and I hardly liked to let the horses drink at it, in consequence. At sunset all the natives left us (as is their wont at that hour), and went to their own encampment; nor did one approach us afterwards, but they sat up to a late hour at their own camp, the women being employed beating the seed for cakes, between two stones, and the noise they made was exactly like the working of a loom factory. The whole encampment, with the long line of fires, looked exceedingly pretty, and the dusky figures of the natives standing by them, or moving from one hut to the other, had the effect of a fine scene in a play. At 11 all was still, and you would not have known that you were in such close contiguity to so large an assemblage of people.

When I laid down, I revolved in my own mind what course I should pursue in the morning. If the account of the natives was correct, it was clear that my further progress eastward, was at an end. My horses, indeed, were now reduced to such a state, that I foresaw my labours were drawing to a close. Mack, too, was so ill, that he could hardly sit his animal, and although I did not anticipate any thing serious in his case, anything tending to embarrass was now felt by us. Mr. Stuart and Morgan held up well, but I felt myself getting daily weaker and weaker. I found that I could not rise into my saddle with the same facility, and that I lost wind in going up a bank of only a few feet in height. I determined, however, on mature consideration, to examine the plain, and to satisfy myself before I should turn back, as to the fact of the creek commencing upon it. Accordingly, in the morning, we saddled and loaded our horses, but none of the natives came to us until we had mounted; when they approached to take leave, and to persuade us not to go in the direction we proposed, but to no purpose. The pool from which they drew their supply of water, was in the centre of a broad shallow grassy channel, that passed the point of the sand hill we had ascended, and ran up to the northward and westward; we were, therefore, obliged to cross this channel, and soon afterwards got on the plains. They were evidently subject to flood, and were exceedingly soft and blistered; the grass upon them grew in tufts, not close, so that in the distance, the plains appeared better grassed than they really were. At length, we got on a polygonum flat of great size, in the soil of which our horses absolutely sunk up to the shoulder at every step. I never rode over such a piece of ground in my life, but we managed to flounder through it, until at length we got on the somewhat firmer but still heavy plain. It was very clear, however, that our horses would not go a day's journey over such ground. It looked exactly as I have described it--an immense concavity, with numerous small channels running down from every part, and making for the creek as a centre of union; nor, could we anywhere see a termination to it. Had the plain been of less extent, I might have doubted the information of the natives; but, looking at the boundless hollow around me, I did not feel any surprise that such a creek even as the one up which we had journeyed, should rise in it, and could easily picture to myself the rush of water there must be to the centre of the plain, when the ground has been saturated with moisture.

The day being far advanced, whilst we were yet pushing on, without any apparent termination to the heavy ground over which we were riding, I turned westward at 2 p.m., finding that the attainment of the object I had in view, in attempting to cross the plain, was a physical impossibility. We reached the water, at which the blind native visited us, a little after sunset, and were as glad as our poor animals could have been, when night closed in upon us, and our labours.

On the 5th, we passed the old man's camp, in going down the creek, instead of crossing the plains as before, and halted at the junction of a creek we had passed, that came from the north, and along the banks of which I proposed turning towards the ranges. On the morning of the 6th we kept the general course of this tributary, which ran through an undulating country of rocks and sand. Its channel was exceedingly capacious, and its banks were high and perpendicular, but everything about it, was sand or gravel. Its bed was perfectly level, and its appearance at once destroyed the hope of finding water in it.

The ground over which we rode, was, as I have stated, a mixture of gravel and rocks, and our horses yielded under us at almost every step as they trod on the sharp pointed fragments. At eight miles we reached the outer line of hills, as they had appeared to us in the distance, and entered a pass between two of them, of about a quarter of a mile in width. At this confined point there were the remains and ravages of terrific floods. The waters had reached from one side of the pass to the other, and the dead trunks of trees and heaps of rubbish, were piled up against every bush.

There was not a blade of vegetation to be seen either on the low ground or on the ranges, which were from 3 to 400 feet in height, and were nothing more than vast accumulations of sand and rocks. At a mile, we arrived at the termination of the pass, and found ourselves at the entrance of a barren, sandy valley, with ranges in front of us, similar to those we had already passed. I thought it advisable, therefore, to ascend a hill to my left, somewhat higher than any near it, to ascertain, if possible, the character of the northern interior. The task of clambering to the top of it however, was, in my then reduced state, greater than I expected, and I had to wait a few minutes before I could look about me after gaining the summit. I could see nothing, after all, to cheer me in the view that presented itself. To the northward was the valley in which the creek rises, bounded all round by barren, stony hills, like that on which I stood; and the summits of other similar hills shewed themselves above the nearer line. To the east the apparently interminable plains on which we had been, still met the horizon, nor was anything to be seen beyond them. Westward the outer line of hills continued backed by others, in the outlines of which we recognised the peaks and forms of the apparently lofty chain we first saw when we discovered the creek. Thus, then, it appeared, that I had been entirely deceived in the character of these hills, and that it had been the effect of refraction in those burning regions, which had given to these moderate hills their mountain-like appearance.

Satisfied that my horses had not the strength to cross such a country, and that in it I had not the slightest chance of procuring the necessary sustenance for them, I turned back to Cooper's Creek, and then deemed it prudent to travel quietly on towards the place at which we first struck it, and had subsequently left our surplus stores.

In riding amongst some rocky ground, we shot a new and beautiful little pigeon, with a long crest. The habits of this bird were very singular, for it never perched on the trees, but on the highest and most exposed rocks, in what must have been an intense heat; its flight was short like that of a quail, and it ran in the same manner through the grass when feeding in the evening. We reached our destination on the evening of the 8th, and were astonished to see how much the waters had shrunk from their previous level. Such an instance of the rapid diminution of so large a pool, made me doubt whether I should find any water in Strzelecki's Creek to enable me to regain the Depot.

As we descended from the flats to cross over to our old berth, we found it occupied by a party of natives, who were disposed to be rather troublesome, especially one old fellow, whose conduct annoyed me exceedingly. However, I very soon got rid of them; and after strolling for a short time within sight of us, they all went up the creek; but I could not help thinking, from the impertinent pertinacity of these fellows, that they had discovered my magazine, and taken all the things, more especially as they had been digging where our fire had been, so that, if I had buried the stores there as intended, they would have been taken.

As soon as the natives were out of sight, Mr. Stuart and I went to the rhagodia bush for our things. As we approached, the branches appeared just as we had left them; but on getting near, we saw a bag lying outside, and I therefore concluded that the natives had carried off everything. Still, when we came up to the bush, nothing but the bag appeared to have been touched, all the other things were just as we left them, and, on examining the bag, nothing was missing. Concluding, therefore, that the natives had really discovered my store, but had been too honest to rob us, I returned to the creek in better humour with them; but, a sudden thought occurring to Mr. Stuart, that as there was an oil lamp in the bag, a native dog might have smelt and dragged it out of its place, we returned to the bush, to see if there were any impressions of naked feet round about it, but with the exception of our own, there were no tracks save those of a native dog. I was consequently obliged to give Mr. Stuart credit for his surmise, and felt somewhat mortified that the favourable impression I had received as to the honesty of the natives had thus been destroyed. They had gone up the creek on seeing that I was displeased, and we saw nothing more of them during the afternoon; but on the following morning they came to see us, and as they behaved well, I gave them a powder canister, a little box, and some other trifles; for after all there was only one old fellow who had been unruly, and he now shewed as much impatience with his companions as he had done with us, and I therefore set his manner down to the score of petulance.

At 10 a.m. on the 9th we prepared to move over to the branch creek, as I really required rest and quiet, and knew very well that as long as I remained where I was, we should be troubled by our sable friends, who, being sixteen in number, would require being well looked after. Before we finally left the neighbourhood, however, where our hopes had so often been raised and depressed, I gave the name of Cooper's Creek to the fine watercourse we had so anxiously traced, as a proof of my great respect for Mr. Cooper, the Judge of South Australia. I am not conversant in the language of praise, but thus much will I venture to say, that whether in his public or private capacity, Mr. Cooper was equally entitled to this record of my feelings towards him. I would gladly have laid this creek down as a river, but as it had no current I did not feel myself justified in so doing. Had it been nearer the located districts of South Australia, its discovery would have been a matter of some importance. As it is we know not what changes or speculations may lead the white man to its banks. Purposes of utility were amongst the first objects I had in view in my pursuit of geographical discovery; nor do I think that any country, however barren, can be explored without the attainment of some good end. Circumstances may yet arise to give a value to my recent labours, and my name may be remembered by after generations in Australia, as the first who tried to penetrate to its centre. If I failed in that great object, I have one consolation in the retrospect of my past services. My path amongst savage tribes has been a bloodless one, not but that I have often been placed in situations of risk and danger, when I might have been justified in shedding blood, but I trust I have ever made allowances for human timidity, and respected the customs and prejudices of the rudest people. I hope, indeed, that in this my last expedition, I have not done discredit to the good opinion Sir C. Napier, an officer I knew not, was pleased to entertain of me. Most assuredly in my intercourse with the savage, I have endeavoured to elevate the character of the white man. Justice and humanity have been my guides, but while I have the consolation to know that no European will follow my track into the Desert without experiencing kindness from its tenants, I have to regret that the progress of civilized man into an uncivilized region, is almost invariably attended with misfortune to its original inhabitants.

I struck Cooper's Creek in lat. 27 degrees 44 minutes, and in long. 140 degrees 22 minutes, and traced it upwards to lat. 27 degrees 56 minutes, and long. 142 degrees 0 minutes. There can be no doubt but that it would support a number of cattle upon its banks, but its agricultural capabilities appear to me doubtful, for the region in which it lies is subject evidently to variations of temperature and seasons that must, I should say, be inimical to cereal productions; nevertheless I should suppose its soil would yield sufficient to support any population that might settle on it.

CONTINUED DROUGHTTERRIFIC EFFECT OF HOT WINDTHERMOMETER BURSTSDEATH OF POOR BAWLEYFIND THE STOCKADE DESERTEDLEAVE FORT GREY FOR THE DEPOTDIFFERENCE OF SEASONSMIGRATION OF BIRDSHOT WINDSEMBARRASSING POSITIONMR. BROWNE STARTS FOR FLOOD'S CREEKTHREE BULLOCKS SHOTCOMMENCEMENT OF THE RETREATARRIVAL AT FLOOD'S CREEKSTATE OF VEGETATIONEFFECTS OF SCURVYARRIVE AT ROCKY GLENCOMPARISON OF NATIVE TRIBESHALT AT CARNAPAGAARRIVAL AT CAWNDILLAREMOVAL TO THE DARLINGLEAVE THE DARLINGSTATE OF THE RIVEROPPRESSIVE HEATVISITED BY NADBUCKARRIVAL AT MOORUNDI.

By half past eleven of the 9th November we had again got quietly settled, and I then found leisure to make such arrangements as might suggest themselves for our further retreat. To insure the safety of the animals as much as possible, I determined to leave all my spare provisions and weightier stores behind, and during the afternoon we were engaged making the loads as compact and as light as we could.

It was not, however, the fear of the water in Strzelecki's Creck having dried up, that was at this moment the only cause of anxiety to me, for I thought it more than probable that Mr. Browne had been obliged to retreat from Fort Grey, in which case I should still have a journey before me to the old Depot of 170 miles or more, under privations, to the horses at least, of no ordinary character; and I had great doubts as to the practicability of our final retreat upon the Darling. The drought had now continued so long, and the heat been so severe, that I apprehended we might be obliged to remain another summer in these fearful solitudes. The weather was terrifically hot, and appeared to have set in unusually early.

Under such circumstances, and with so many causes to render my mind anxious, the reader will believe I did not sleep much. The men were as restless as myself, so that we commenced our journey before the sun had risen on the morning of the 10th of November, to give the horses time to take their journey leisurely. Slowly we retraced our steps, nor did I stop for a moment until we had got to within five miles of our destination, at which distance we saw a single native running after us, and taking it into my head that he might be a messenger from Mr. Browne, I pulled up to wait for him, but curiosity alone had induced him to come forward. When he got to within a hundred yards, he stopped and approached no nearer. This little delay made it after sunset before we reached the upper pool (not the one Mr. Browne and I had discovered), and were relieved from present anxiety by finding a thick puddle still remaining in it, so that I halted for the night. Slommy, Bawley, and the colt had hard work to keep up with the other horses, and it really grieved me to see them so reduced. My own horse was even now beginning to give way, but I had carried a great load upon him.

As we approached the water, three ducks flew up and went off down the creek southwards, so I was cheered all night by the hope that water still remained at the lower pool, and that we should be in time to benefit by it. On the 11th, therefore, early we pushed on, as I intended to stop and breakfast at that place before I started for the Depot. We had scarcely got there, however, when the wind, which had been blowing all the morning hot from the N.E., increased to a heavy gale, and I shall never forget its withering effect. I sought shelter behind a large gum-tree, but the blasts of heat were so terrific, that I wondered the very grass did not take fire. This really was nothing ideal: every thing, both animate and inanimate, gave way before it; the horses stood with their backs to the wind, and their noses to the ground, without the muscular strength to raise their heads; the birds were mute, and the leaves of the trees, under which we were sitting, fell like a snow shower around us. At noon I took a thermometer, graduated to 127 degrees, out of my box, and observed that the mercury was up to 125 degrees. Thinking that it had been unduly influenced, I put it in the fork of a tree close to me, sheltered alike from the wind and the sun. In this position I went to examine it about an hour afterwards, when I found that the mercury had risen to the top of the instrument, and that its further expansion had burst the bulb, a circumstance that I believe no traveller has ever before had to record. I cannot find language to convey to the reader's mind an idea of the intense and oppressive nature of the heat that prevailed. We had reached our destination however before the worst of the hot wind set in; but all the water that now remained in the once broad and capacious pool to which I have had such frequent occasion to call the attention of the reader, was a shining patch of mud nearly in the centre. We were obliged to dig a trench for the water to filter into during the night, and by this means obtained a scanty supply for our horses and ourselves.

About sunset the wind shifted to the west, a cloud passed over us, and we had heavy thunder; but a few drops of rain only fell. They partially cooled the temperature, and the night was less oppressive than the day had been. We had now a journey of 86 miles before us: to its results I looked with great anxiety and doubt. I took every precaution to fortify the horses, and again reduced the loads, keeping barely a supply of flour for a day or two. Before dawn we were up, and drained the last drop of water, if so it could be called, out of the little trench we had made, and reserving a gallon for the first horse that should fall, divided the residue among them. Just as the morning was breaking, we left the creek, and travelled for 36 miles. I then halted until the moon should rise, and was glad to see that the horses stood it well. At seven we resumed the journey, and got on tolerably well until midnight, when poor Bawley, my favourite horse, fell; but we got him up again, and abandoning his saddle, proceeded onwards. At a mile, however, he again fell, when I stopped, and the water revived him. I now hoped he would struggle on, but in about an hour he again fell. I was exceedingly fond of this poor animal, and intended to have purchased him at the sale of the remnants of the expedition, as a present to my wife. We sat down and lit a fire by him, but he seemed fairly worn out. I then determined to ride on to the Depot, and if Mr. Browne should still be there, to send a dray with water to the relief of the men. I told them, therefore, to come slowly on, and with Mr. Stuart pushed for the camp. We reached the plain just as the sun was descending, without having dismounted from our horses for more than fifteen hours, and as we rode down the embankment into it, looked around for the cattle, but none were to be seen. We looked towards the little sandy mound on which the tents had stood, but no white object there met our eye; we rode slowly up to the stockade, and found it silent and deserted. I was quite sure that Mr. Browne had had urgent reasons for retiring. I had indeed anticipated the measure: I hardly hoped to find him at the Fort, and had given him instructions on the subject of his removal, yet a sickening feeling came over me when I saw that he was really gone; not on my own account, for, with the bitter feelings of disappointment with which I was returning home, I could calmly have laid my head on that desert, never to raise it again. The feeling was natural, and had no mixture whatever of reproach towards my excellent companion.

We dismounted and led our horses down to water before I went to the tree under which I had directed Mr. Browne to deposit a letter for me. A good deal of water still remained in the channel, but nevertheless a large pit had been dug in it as I had desired. I did not drink, nor did Mr. Stuart, the surface of the water was quite green, and the water itself was of a red colour, but I believe we were both thinking of any thing but ourselves at that moment. As soon as we had unsaddled the horses, we went to the tree and dug up the bottle into which, as agreed upon, Mr. Browne had put a letter; informing me that he had been most reluctantly obliged to retreat; the water at the Depot having turned putrid, and seriously disagreed with the men; he said that he should fall back on the old Depot along the same line on which we had advanced, and expressed his fears that the water in Strzelecki's Creek would have dried, on the permanence of which he knew our safety depended. Under present circumstances the fate of poor Bawley, if not of more of our horses, was sealed. Mr. Stuart and I sat down by the stockade, and as night closed in lit a fire to guide Morgan and Mack on their approach to the plain. They came up about 2 p.m. having left Bawley on a little stony plain, and the Colt on the sand ridges nearer to us, and in the confusion and darkness had left all the provisions behind; it therefore became necessary to send for some, as we had not had anything for many hours. The horses Morgan and Mack had ridden were too knocked up for further work, but I sent the latter on my own horse with a leather bottle that had been left behind by the party, full of water for poor Bawley, if he should still find him alive. Mack returned late in the afternoon, having passed the Colt on his way to the Depot, towards which he dragged himself with difficulty, but Bawley was beyond recovery; he gave the poor animal the water, however, for he was a humane man, and then left him to die.

We had remained during the day under a scorching heat, but could hardly venture to drink the water of the creek without first purifying it by boiling, and as we had no vessel until Mack should come up we had to wait patiently for his arrival at 7 p.m. About 9 we had a damper baked, and broke our fast for the first time for more than two days.

While sitting under a tree in the forenoon Mr. Stuart had observed a crow pitch in the little garden we had made, but which never benefited us, since the sun burnt up every plant the moment it appeared above the ground. This bird scratched for a short time in one of the soft beds, and then flew away with something in his bill. On going to the spot Mr. Stuart scraped up a piece of bacon and some suet, which the dogs of course had buried. These choice morsels were washed and cooked, and Mr. Stuart brought me a small piece of bacon, certainly not larger than a dollar, which he assured me had been cut out of the centre and was perfectly clean. I had not tasted the bacon since February, nor did I now feel any desire to do so, but I ate it because I thought I really wanted it in the weak state in which I was.

Perhaps a physician would laugh at me for ascribing the pains I felt the next morning to so trifling a cause, but I was attacked with pains at the bottom of my heels and in my back. Although lying down I felt as if I was standing balanced on stones; these pains increased during the day, insomuch that I anticipated some more violent attack, and determined on getting to the old Depot as soon as possible; but as the horses had not had sufficient rest, I put off my journey to 5 p.m. on the following day, when I left Fort Grey with Mr. Stuart, directing Mack and Morgan to follow at the same hour on the following day, and promising that I would send a dray with water to meet them. I rode all that night until 3 p.m. of the 17th, when we reached the tents, which Mr. Browne had pitched about two miles below the spot we had formerly occupied. If I except two or three occasions on which I was obliged to dismount to rest my back for a few minutes we rode without stopping, and might truly be said to have been twenty hours on horseback.

Sincere I believe was the joy of Mr. Browne, and indeed of all hands, at seeing us return, for they had taken it for granted that our retreat would have been cut off. I too was gratified to find that Mr. Brown was better, and to learn that everything had gone on well. Davenport had recently been taken ill, but the other men had recovered on their removal from the cause of their malady.

When I dismounted I had nearly fallen forward. Thinking that one of the kangaroo dogs in his greeting had pushed me between the legs, I turned round to give him a slap, but no dog was there, and I soon found out that what I had felt was nothing more than strong muscular action brought on by hard riding.

As I had promised I sent Jones with a dray load of water to meet Morgan and Mack, who came up on the 19th with the rest of the horses.

Mr. Browne informed me that the natives had frequently visited the camp during my absence. He had given them to understand that we were going over the hills again, on which they told him that if he did not make haste all the water would be gone. It now behoved us therefore to effect our retreat upon the Darling with all expedition. Our situation was very critical, for the effects of the drought were more visible now than before the July rain,--no more indeed had since fallen, and the water in the Depot creek was so much reduced that we had good reason to fear that none remained anywhere else. On the 18th I sent Flood to a small creek, between us and the Pine forest, but he returned on the following day with information that it had long been dry. Thus then were my fears verified, and our retreat to the Darling apparently cut off. About this time too the very elements, against which we had so long been contending, seemed to unite their energies to render our stay in that dreadful region still more intolerable. The heat was greater than that of the previous summer; the thermometer ranging between 110 degrees and 123 degrees every day; the wind blowing heavily from N.E. to E.S.E. filled the air with impalpable red dust, giving the sun the most foreboding and lurid appearance as we looked upon him. The ground was so heated that our matches falling on it, ignited; and, having occasion to make a night signal, I found the whole of our rockets had been rendered useless, as on being lit they exploded at once without rising from the ground.

I had occasion--in the first volume of this work--to remark that I should at a future period have to make some observations on the state of the vegetation at this particular place; there being about a month or six weeks difference between the periods of the year when we first arrived at, and subsequently returned to it. When we first arrived on the 27th of January, 1845, the cereal grasses had ripened their seed, and the larger shrubs were fast maturing their fruit; the trees were full of birds, and the plains were covered with pigeons--having nests under every bush. At the close of November of the same year--that is to say six weeks earlier--not an herb had sprung from the ground, not a bud had swelled, and, where the season before the feathered tribes had swarmed in hundreds on the creek, scarcely a bird was now to be seen. Our cattle wandered about in search for food, and the silence of the grave reigned around us day and night.

Was it instinct that warned the feathered races to shun a region in which the ordinary course of nature had been arrested, and over which the wrath of the Omnipotent appeared to hang? Or was it that a more genial season in the country to which they migrate, rendered their desertion of it at the usual period unnecessary? Most sincerely do I hope that the latter was the case, and that a successful destiny will await the bold and ardent traveller [Note 10. Dr. Leichhardt had started to cross the Continent some time before.] who is now crossing those regions.

On the 20th I sent Flood down the creek to ascertain if water remained in it or the farther holes mentioned by the natives, thinking that in such a case we might work our way to the eastward; but on the 23rd he returned without having seen a drop of water from the moment he left us. The deep and narrow channel I had so frequently visited, and which I had hoped might still contain water, had long been dry, and thus was our retreat cut off in that quarter also. There was apparently no hope for us--its last spark had been extinguished by this last disappointment; but the idea of a detention in that horrid desert was worse than death itself.

On the morning of the 22nd the sky was cloudy and the sun obscure, and there was every appearance of rain. The wind was somewhat to the south of west, the clouds came up from the north, and at ten a few drops fell; but before noon the sky was clear, and a strong and hot wind was blowing from the west: the dust was flying in clouds around us, and the flies were insupportable.

At this time Mr. Stuart was taken ill with pains similar to my own, and Davenport had an attack of dysentery.

On the 23rd it blew a fierce gale and a hot wind from west by north, which rendered us still more uncomfortable: nothing indeed could be done without risk in such a temperature, and such a climate. The fearful position in which we were placed, caused me great uneasiness; the men began to sicken, and I felt assured that if we remained much longer, the most serious consequences might be apprehended.

On the 24th, Mr. Browne went with Flood to examine a stony creek about 16 miles to the south, and on our way homewards. We had little hope that he would find any water in it, but if he did, a plan had suggested itself, by which we trusted to effect our escape. It being impossible to stand the outer heat, the men were obliged to take whatever things wanted repair, to our underground room, and I was happy to learn from Mr. Stuart, who I sent up to superintend them, that the natives had not in the least disturbed Mr. Poole's grave.

On the 25th Mr. Browne returned, and returned unsuccessful: he could find no water any where, and told me it was fearful to ride down the creeks and to witness their present state.

We were now aware that there could be no water nearer to us than 118 miles, i. e. at Flood's Creek, and even there it was doubtful if water any longer remained. To have moved the party on the chance of finding it would have been madness: the weather was so foreboding, the heat so excessive, and the horses so weak, that I did not dare to trust them on such a journey, or to risk the life of any man in such an undertaking. I was myself laid up, a helpless being, for I had gradually sunk under the attack of scurvy which had so long hung upon me. The day after I arrived in camp I was unable to walk: in a day or two more, my muscles became rigid, my limbs contracted, and I was unable to stir; gradually also my skin blackened, the least movement put me to torture, and I was reduced to a state of perfect prostration. Thus stricken down, when my example and energies were so much required for the welfare and safety of others, I found the value of Mr. Browne's services and counsel. He had already volunteered to go to Flood's Creek to ascertain if water was still to be procured in it, but I had not felt justified in availing myself of his offer. My mind, however, dwelling on the critical posture of our affairs, and knowing and feeling as I did the value of time, and that the burning sun would lick up any shallow pool that might be left exposed, and that three or four days might determine our captivity or our release, I sent for Mr. Browne, to consult with him as to the best course to be adopted in the trying situation in which we were placed, and a plan at length occurred by which I hoped he might venture on the journey to Flood's Creek without risk. This plan was to shoot one of the bullocks, and to fill his hide with water. We determined on sending this in a dray, a day in advance, to enable the bullock driver to get as far as possible on the road, we then arranged that Mr. Browne should take the light cart, with 36 gallons of water, and one horse only; that on reaching the dray, he should give his horse as much water as he would drink from the skin, leaving that in the cart untouched until he should arrive at the termination of his second day's journey, when I proposed he should give his horse half the water, and leaving the rest until the period of his return, ride the remainder of the distance he had to go. I saw little risk in this plan, and we accordingly acted upon it immediately: the hide was prepared, and answered well, since it easily contained 150 gallons of water. Jones proceeded on the morning of the 27th, and on the 28th Mr. Browne left me on this anxious and to us important journey, accompanied by Flood. We calculated on his return on the eighth day, and the reader will judge how anxiously those days passed. On the day Mr. Browne left me, Jones returned, after having deposited the skin at the distance of 32 miles.

On the eighth day from his departure, every eye but my own was turned to the point at which they had seen him disappear. About 3 p.m., one of the men came to inform me that Mr. Browne was crossing the creek, the camp being on its left bank, and in a few minutes afterwards he entered my tent. "Well, Browne," said I, "what news? Is it to be good or bad?" "There is still water in the creek," said he, "but that is all I can say. What there is is as black as ink, and we must make haste, for in a week it will be gone." Here then the door was still open,--a way to escape still practicable, and thankful we both felt to that Power which had directed our steps back again ere it was finally closed upon us; but even now we had no time to lose: to have taken the cattle without any prospect of relief until they should arrive at Flood's Creek, would have been to sacrifice almost the whole of them, and to reduce the expedition to a condition such as I did not desire. The necessary steps to be taken, in the event of Mr. Browne's bringing back good tidings, had engaged my attention during his absence, and with his assistance, that on which I had determined was immediately put into execution. I directed three more bullocks to be shot, and their skins prepared; and calculated that by abandoning the boat and our heavier stores, we might carry a supply of water on the drays, sufficient for the use of the remaining animals on the way. Three bullocks were accordingly killed, and the skins stripped over them from the neck downwards, so that the opening might be as small as possible.

The boat was launched upon the creek, which I had vainly hoped would have ploughed the waters of a central sea. We abandoned our bacon and heavier stores, the drays were put into order, their wheels wedged up, their axles greased, and on the 6th of December, at 5 p.m., we commenced our retreat, having a distance of 270 miles to travel to the Darling, and under circumstances which made it extremely uncertain how we should terminate the journey, since we did not expect to find any water between Flood's Creek and the Rocky Glen, or between the Rocky Glen and the Darling itself. The three or four days preceding our departure had been quite overpowering, neither did there seem to be a likelihood of any abatement of the heat when we left the Depot. At 5 a.m. of the morning of the 7th, having travelled all night, I halted to rest the men and animals. We had then the mortification to find one of the skins was defective, and let out the water at an hundred different pores. I directed the water that remained in the skin to be given to the stock rather than that it should be lost; but both horses and bullocks refused it. During the first part of the night it was very oppressive; but about an hour after midnight the wind shifted to the south, and it became cooler. We resumed our journey at 7, and did not again halt until half past 12 p.m. of the 8th, having then gained the Muddy Lagoon, at which the reader will recollect we stopped for a short time after breaking through the Pine forest about the same period the year before; but as there was nothing for the animals to eat, I took them across the creek and put them upon an acre or two of green feed along its banks. I observed that the further we advanced southwards, the more forward did vegetation appear; Mr. Browne made the same remark to me on his return from Flood's Creek, where he found the grasses ripe, whereas at the Depot Creek the ground was still perfectly bare.

About 3 a.m. we had a good deal of thunder and lightning, and at 7 the wind shifted a point or two to the eastward of south. Notwithstanding the quarter from which the wind blew, heavy clouds came up from the west, and about 11 we had a misty rain with heavy thunder and lightning. The rain was too slight to leave any puddles, but it moistened the dry grass, which the animals greedily devoured.

On leaving the creek we kept for about eight miles on our old track, but at that distance turned due south for two hills, the position of which Mr. Browne had ascertained on his recent journey, and by taking this judicious course avoided the Pine ridges altogether. We were, however, obliged to halt, as the moon set, in the midst of an open brush, but started again at day-break on the morning of the 9th.

Before we left the creek, near the Muddy Lagoon, all the horses and more than one half of the bullocks had drank plentifully of the water in the hides, in consequence of which they got on tolerably well. On resuming our journey we soon cleared the remainder of the scrub, and got into a more open sandy country, but the travelling on it was good; and at 20 minutes to two we halted within a mile of the hills towards which we had been moving, then about 26 miles from Flood's Creek. Being in great pain I left Mr. Browne at half-past three p.m., and reached our destination at midnight. Two hours afterwards Mr. Browne came up with the rest of the party. So we completed our first stage without the loss of a single animal; but had it not been for the slight rain that fell on the morning of the 8th, and the subsequent change of temperature, none of our bullocks could have survived the journey thus far.

As it had occupied three nights and two days, it became necessary to give both men and animals a day of rest. I could not however be so indulgent to Mr. Browne or to Flood. The next place at which we hoped to find water, was at the Rocky Gully at the foot of the ranges, distant 49 miles, if water failed us there, neither had Mr. Browne or Flood any reasonable expectation that we should procure any until we gained the Darling itself, then distant 150 miles. Mr. Browne was himself suffering severely from attacks of scurvy, but he continued with unwearied zeal to supply my place. On the 11th, at one p.m., he left me for the hills, but before he started we arranged that he should return and meet me half way whether he succeeded in finding water or not, and in order to ensure this I proposed leaving the Creek on the 13th.

As Mr. Browne had informed me, we found the vegetation much more forward at this place than we had hitherto seen it, still many of the grasses were invisible, not having yet sprung up, but there was a solitary stool of wheat that had been accidentally dropped by us and had taken root, which had 13 fine heads upon it quite ripe. These Mr. Browne gathered, and, agreeably to my wishes, scattered the seed about in places where he thought it would be most likely to grow. There was also a single stool of oats but it was not so fine as the wheat.

On the 12th, at 2 p.m., Flood suddenly returned, bringing information that Mr. Browne had unexpectedly found water in the lower part of a little rocky creek in our way, distant 18 miles, and that he was gone on to the Rocky Gully. On receiving this intelligence I ordered the bullocks to be yoked up, and we started for the creek at which we had left the cart on our outward journey, at 7 p.m. It was blowing heavily at the time from the S.W. and large clouds passed over us, but the sky cleared as the wind fell at midnight. We reached our destination at 3 a.m. of the 13th. Here I remained until half-past six when we again started and gained the Horse-cart Creek at half-past twelve. Here, as at Flood's Creek, we found a large plant of mustard and some barley in ear and ripe, where few of the native grasses had more than made their appearance out of the ground.

Stopping to rest the animals for half an hour, I went myself to the little branch creek, on which the reader will recollect our cattle depended when we were last in this neighbourhood, and where I had arranged to meet Mr. Browne, who arrived there about half an hour before me. He had again been successful in finding a large supply of water in the Rocky Gully, and thought that rain must have fallen on the hills.

At 4 the teams again started, but I was too unwell to accompany them immediately. I had in truth lost the use of my limbs, and from the time of our leaving the Depot had been lifted in and out of the cart; constant jolting therefore had greatly fatigued me, and I found it necessary to stop here for a short time after the departure of the drays. At half-past six however, we followed and overtook the party about five miles from the gully, where we halted at 3 A M. of the 14th.

Mr. Browne had found a large party of natives at the water, who had been very kind to him, and many of them still remained when we came up. He had observed some of them eating a small acid berry, and had procured a quantity for me in the hope that they would do me good, and while we remained at this place he good-naturedly went into the hills and gathered me a large tureen full, and to the benefit I derived from these berries I attribute my more speedy recovery from the malady under which I was suffering. We were now 116 miles from the Darling, and although there was no longer any doubt of our eventually reaching it, the condition in which we should do so, depended on our finding water in the Coonbaralba pass, from which we were distant 49 miles. In the evening I sent Flood on ahead to look for water, with orders to return if he succeeded in his search. In consequence of the kindness of the natives to Mr. Browne I made them some presents and gave them a sheep, which they appeared to relish greatly. They were good-looking blacks and in good condition, speaking the language of the Darling natives.


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