Our situation was one of peculiar excitement and interest. To our right the thunder of the heavy surf, that almost shook the ground beneath us, broke with increasing roar upon our ears; to our left the voice of the natives echoed through the brush, and the size of their fires at the extremity of the channel, seemed to indicate the alarm our appearance had occasioned.

CRITICAL SITUATION OF THE PARTY.

While the men were enjoying their c.o.c.kles, a large kettle of which they had boiled, M'Leay and I were anxiously employed in examining the state of our provisions, and in ascertaining what still remained. Flour and tea were the only articles we had left, so that the task was not a difficult one. It appeared that we had not sufficient of either to last us to Pondebadgery, at which place we expected to find supplies; and, taking every thing into consideration, our circ.u.mstances were really critical.

The first view of Encounter Bay had convinced me that no vessel would ever venture into it at a season when the S.W. winds prevailed. It was impossible that we could remain upon the coast in expectation of the relief that I doubted not had been hurried off for us; since disappointment would have sealed our fate at once. In the deep bight in which we were, I could not hope that any vessel would approach sufficiently near to be seen by us. Our only chance of attracting notice would have been by crossing the Ranges to the Gulf St. Vincent, but the men had not strength to walk, and I hesitated to divide my party in the presence of a determined and numerous enemy, who closely watched our motions. Setting aside the generous feelings that had prompted M'Leay to partic.i.p.ate in every danger with me, and who I am persuaded would have deeply felt a separation, my anxiety not only on his account, but on account of the men I might leave in charge of the boat, made me averse to this measure; the chance of any misfortune to them involving in it the destruction of our boat and the loss of our provisions. My anxiety of mind would have rendered me unfit for exertion; yet so desirous was I of examining the ranges and the country at their base, that I should, had our pa.s.sage to the salt water been uninterrupted, have determined on coasting it homewards, or of steering for Launceston; and most a.s.suredly, with my present experience, I would rather incur the hazards of so desperate a step, than contend against all the evils that beset us on out homeward journey. And the reader may rest a.s.sured, I was as much without hopes of our eventual safety, as I was astonished, at the close of our labours, to find that they had terminated so happily.

INSPECTION OF THE CHANNEL FROM THE LAKE TO THE OCEAN.

Further exertion on the part of the men being out of the question, I determined to remain no longer on the coast than to enable me to trace the channel to its actual junction with the sea, and to ascertain the features of the coast at that important point. I was reluctant to exhaust the strength of the men in dragging the boat over the numberless flats that were before us, and made up my mind to walk along the sh.o.r.e until I should gain the outlet. I at length arranged that M'Leay, I, and Fraser, should start on this excursion, at the earliest dawn, leaving Harris and Hopkinson in charge of the camp; for as we were to go towards the position of the natives, I thought it improbable they would attack the camp without my being instantly aware of it.

We had, as I have said, intended starting at the earliest dawn, but the night was so clear and refreshing, and the moon so bright that we determined to avail ourselves of both, and accordingly left the tents at 3 a.m. I directed Harris to strike them at 8, and to have every thing in readiness for our departure at that hour. We then commenced our excursion, and I led my companions rapidly along the sh.o.r.e of Encounter Bay, after crossing the sand-hills about a mile below the camp. After a hasty and distressing walk of about seven miles, we found that the sand-hills terminated, and a low beach spread before us. The day was just breaking, and at the distance of a mile from us we saw the sand-hill I have already had occasion to notice, and at about a quarter of a mile from its base, we were checked by the channel; which, as I rightly conjectured, being stopped in its easterly course by some rising ground, the tongue of land on which the blacks were posted, suddenly turns south, and, striking this sand-hill, immediately enters the sea; and we noticed, in the bight under the rising ground, that the natives had lit a chain of small fires.

This was, most probably, a detached party watching our movements, as they could, from where they were posted, see our camp.

At the time we arrived at the end of the channel, the tide had turned, and was again setting in. The entrance appeared to me to be somewhat less than a quarter of a mile in breadth. Under the sand-hill on the off side, the water is deep and the current strong. No doubt, at high tide, a part of the low beach we had traversed is covered. The mouth of the channel is defended by a double line of breakers, amidst which, it would be dangerous to venture, except in calm and summer weather; and the line of foam is unbroken from one end of Encounter Bay to the other. Thus were our fears of the impracticability and inutility of the channel of communication between the lake and the ocean confirmed.

DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS OF THE RETURN.

I would fain have lingered on my way, to examine, as far as circ.u.mstances would permit, the beautiful country between the lake and the ranges; and it was with heart-felt sorrow that I yielded to necessity. My men were indeed very weak from poverty of diet and from great bodily fatigue.

Hopkinson, Mulholland, and Macnamee were miserably reduced. The two former, especially, had exerted themselves beyond their strength, and although I am confident they would have obeyed my orders to the last, I did not feel myself justified, considering the gigantic task we had before us, to impose additional labour upon them.

It will be borne in mind that our difficulties were just about to commence, when those of most other travellers have ceased; and that instead of being a.s.sisted by the stream whose course we had followed, we had now to contend against the united waters of the eastern ranges, with diminished strength, and, in some measure, with disappointed feelings.

Under the most favourable circ.u.mstances, it was improbable that the men would be enabled to pull for many days longer in succession; since they had not rested upon their oars for a single day, if I except our pa.s.sage across the lake, from the moment when we started from the depot; nor was it possible for me to buoy them up with the hope even of a momentary cessation from labour. We had calculated the time to which our supply of provisions would last under the most favourable circ.u.mstances, and it was only in the event of our pulling up against the current, day after day, the same distance we had compa.s.sed with the current in our favour, that we could hope they would last us as long as we continued in the Murray.

But in the event of floods, or any unforeseen delay, in was impossible to calculate at what moment we might be driven to extremity.

Independent of these casualties, there were other circ.u.mstances of peril to be taken into consideration. As I have already observed, I foresaw great danger in again running through the natives. I had every reason to believe that many of the tribes with which we had communicated on apparently friendly terms, regretted having allowed us to pa.s.s unmolested; nor was I at all satisfied as to the treatment we might receive from them, when unattended by the envoys who had once or twice controlled their fury.

Our best security, therefore, against the attacks of the natives was celerity of movement; and the men themselves seemed to be perfectly aware of the consequences of delay. Our provisions, moreover, being calculated to last to a certain point only, the slightest accident, the staving-in of the boat, or the rise of the river, would inevitably be attended with calamity. To think of reducing our rations of only three quarters of a pound of flour per diem, was out of the question, or to hope that the men, with less sustenance than that, would perform the work necessary to ensure their safety, would have been unreasonable. It was better that our provisions should hold out to a place from which we might abandon the boat with some prospect of reaching by an effort a stock station, or the plain on which Robert Harris was to await our return, than that they should be consumed before the half of our homeward journey should be accomplished.

Delay, therefore, under our circ.u.mstances, would have been imprudent and unjustifiable.

PATIENCE OF THE MEN--RE-ENTER THE MURRAY.

On the other hand, it was sufficiently evident to me, that the men were too much exhausted to perform the task that was before them without a.s.sistance, and that it would be necessary both for M'Leay and myself, to take our share of labour at the oars. The cheerfulness and satisfaction that my young friend evinced at the opportunity that was thus afforded him of making himself useful, and of relieving those under him from some portion of their toil, at the same time that they increased my sincere esteem for him, were nothing more than what I expected from one who had endeavoured by every means in his power to contribute to the success of that enterprise upon which he had embarked. But although I have said thus much of the exhausted condition of the men,--and ere these pages are concluded my readers will feel satisfied as to the truth of my statement--I would by no means be understood to say that they flagged for a moment, or that a single murmur escaped them. No reluctance was visible, no complaint was heard, but there was that in their aspect and appearance which they could not hide, and which I could not mistake. My object in dwelling so long upon this subject has been to point out our situation and our feelings when we re-entered the Murray. The only circ.u.mstance that appeared to be in our favour was the prevalence of the south-west wind, by which I hoped we should be a.s.sisted in running up the first broad reaches of that river. I could not but acknowledge the bounty of that Providence, which had favoured us in our pa.s.sage across the lake, and I was led to hope that its merciful superintendance would protect us from evil, and would silently direct us where human foresight and prudence failed. We re-entered the river on the 13th under as fair prospects as we would have desired. The gale which had blown with such violence in the morning gradually abated, and a steady breeze enabled us to pa.s.s our first encampment by availing ourselves of it as long as day light continued.

Both the valley and the river showed to advantage as we approached them, and the scenery upon our left (the proper right bank of the Murray) was really beautiful.

CHAPTER VII.

Valley of the Murray--Its character and capabilities--Laborious progress up the river--Accident to the boat--Perilous collision with the natives --Turbid current of the Rufus--Pa.s.sage of the Rapids--a.s.sisted by the natives--Dangerous intercourse with them--Re-enter the Morumbidgee-- Verdant condition of its banks--Nocturnal encounter with the natives-- Interesting manifestation of feeling in one family--Reach the spot where the party had embarked on the river--Men begin to fail entirely-- Determine to send two men forward for relief--Their return--Excursion on horseback--Reach Pondebadgery Plain, and meet the supplies from the colony--Cannibalism of the natives--Return to Sydney--Concluding remarks.

VALLEY OF THE MURRAY.

The valley of the Murray, at its entrance, cannot be less than four miles in breadth. The river does not occupy the centre but inclines to either side, according to its windings, and thus the flats are of greater or less extent, according to the distance of the river from the base of the hills.

It is to be remarked, that the bottom of the valley is extremely level, and extensively covered with reeds. From the latter circ.u.mstance, one would be led to infer that these flats are subject to overflow, and no doubt can exist as to the fact of their being, at least partially, if not wholly, under water at times. A country in a state of nature is, however, so different from one in a state of cultivation, that it is hazardous to give an opinion as to its practical availableness, if I may use such a term. I should, undoubtedly, say the marshes of the Macquarie were frequently covered with water, and that they were wholly unfit for any one purpose whatever. It is evident from the marks of the reeds upon the banks, that the flood covers them occasionally to the depth of three feet, and the reeds are so densely embodied and so close to the river side that the natives cannot walk along it. The reeds are the broad flag-reed (arundo phragmatis), and grow on a stiff earthy loam, without any accompanying vegetation; indeed, they form so solid a ma.s.s that the sun cannot penetrate to the ground to nourish vegetation. On the other hand, the valley of the Murray, though covered with reeds in most places, is not so in all. There is no mark upon the reeds by which to judge as to the height of inundation, neither are they of the same kind as those which cover the marshes of the Macquarie. They are the species of round reed of which the South-sea islanders make their arrows, and stand sufficiently open, not only to allow of a pa.s.sage through, but for the abundant growth of gra.s.s among them. Still, I have no doubt that parts of the valley are subject to flood; but, as I have already remarked, I do not know whether these parts are either deeply or frequently covered. Rain must fall simultaneously in the S.E. angle of the island in the inter-tropical regions, and at the heads of all the tributaries of the main stream, ere its effects can be felt in the lower parts of the Murray. If the valley of the Murray is not subject to flood, it has only recently gained a height above the influence of the river, and still retains all the character of flooded land. In either case, however, it contains land that is of the very richest kind--soil that is the pure acc.u.mulation of vegetable matter, and is as black as ebony. If its hundreds of thousands of acres were practically available, I should not hesitate to p.r.o.nounce it one of the richest spots of equal extent on earth, and highly favoured in other respects. How far it is available remains to be proved; and an opinion upon either side would be hazardous, although that of its liability to flood would, most probably, be nearest to truth. It is, however, certain that any part of the valley would require much labour before it could be brought under cultivation, and that even its most available spots would require almost as much trouble to clear them as the forest tract, for nothing is more difficult to destroy than reeds. Breaking the sod would, naturally, raise the level of the ground, and lateral drains would, most probably, carry off all floods, but then the latter, at least, is the operation of an advanced stage of husbandry only. I would, however, observe that there are many parts of the valley decidedly above the reach of flood. I have, in the above observations, been particularly alluding to the lowest and broadest portions of it. I trust I shall be understood as not wishing to over-rate this discovery on the one hand, or on the other, to include its whole extent in one sweeping clause of condemnation.

On the 14th, the wind still continued to blow fresh from the N.W.

It moderated at noon, and a.s.sisted us beyond measure. We pa.s.sed our first encampment, but did not see any natives.

CORDIALITY OF THE NATIVES.

On the 15th, the wind was variable at daylight, and a dense fog was on the river. As the sun rose, it was dissipated and a light breeze sprung up from W.S.W. We ran up the stream with a free sheet for six hours, when we stopped for a short time to get the kettle boiled. Four natives joined us, but with the exception of the lowest tribe upon the right bank, we had not seen any number. We were extremely liberal to this tribe, in consequence of the satisfaction they evinced at our return. We had alarmed them much on our pa.s.sage down the river by firing at a snake that was swimming across it. We, at first, attempted to kill it with the boat-hook, but the animal dived at our approach, and appeared again at a considerable distance. Another such dive would have ensured his escape, but a shot effectually checked him, and as the natives evinced considerable alarm, we held him up, to show them the object of our proceedings. On our return, they seemed to have forgotten their fright, and received us with every demonstration of joy. The different receptions we met with from different tribes are difficult to be accounted for.

The country appeared to rise before us, and looked more hilly to the N.W.

than I had supposed it to be. Several fine valleys branched off from the main one to the westward, and, however barren the heights that confined them were, I am inclined to think, that the distant interior is fertile.

The marks of kangaroos were numerous, and the absence of the natives would indicate that they have other and better means of subsisting in the back country than what the river affords.

In the evening, we again ran on for two hours and a half, and reached the first of the cliffs.

On the 16th, we were again fortunate in the wind, and pressed up the river as long as day-light continued. At the termination of our journey, we found ourselves a day's journey in advance. This inspirited the men, and they began to forget the labours they had gone through, as well as those that were before them.

On the 17th, we again commenced pulling, the wind being at north, and contrary. It did not, however, remain in that quarter long, but backed at noon to the S.W., so that we were enabled to make a good day's journey, and rather gained than lost ground.

REMARKABLE CLIFF--GEOLOGICAL REMARKS.

Having left the undulating hills, at the mouth of the valley behind us, we pa.s.sed cliff after cliff of fossil formation: they had a uniform appearance as to the substance of which they were composed, and varied but little in colour. Having already examined them, we thought it unnecessary to give them any further special attention, since it was improbable we should find anything new. In turning an angle of the river, however, a broad reach stretched away before us. An alluvial flat extended to our left, and a high line of cliffs, that differed in no visible respect from those we had already pa.s.sed, rose over the opposite side of the river. The cliffs faced the W.N.W., and as the sun declined, his beams struck full upon them. As we shot past, we were quite dazzled with the burst of light that flashed upon us, and which gave to the whole face of the cliff the appearance of a splendid mirror. The effect was of course momentary; for as soon as we had pa.s.sed the angle of refraction, there was nothing unusual in its appearance. On a nearer approach, however, it appeared again as if studded with stars. We had already determined on examining it more closely, and this second peculiarity still further excited our curiosity. On landing, we found the whole cliff to be a ma.s.s of selenite, in which the various sh.e.l.ls already noticed were plentifully embedded, as in ice. The features of the cliff differed from any we had previously remarked. Large ma.s.ses, or blocks of square or oblong shape, had fallen to its base, and its surface was hard, whereas the face of the majority of the other cliffs was soft from the effect of the atmosphere; and the rock was entirely free from every other substance, excepting the sh.e.l.ls of which it was composed. We of course collected some good specimens, although they added very considerably to the weight of our cargo.

The morning of the 18th was calm and cloudless. The wind, of which there was but little, came from the north, and was as usual warm. We availed ourselves of a favourable spot to haul our boat on sh.o.r.e under one of the cliffs upon the proper left of the river, and cleaned her well both inside and out.

LABORIOUS ASCENT OF THE BOAT.

The breezes that had so much a.s.sisted as from the lake upwards, had now lost their influence, or failed to reach to the distance we had gained.

Calms succeeded them, and obliged us to labour continually at the oars.

We lost ground fast, and it was astonishing to remark how soon the men's spirits drooped again under their first efforts. They fancied the boat pulled heavily, and that her bottom was foul; but such was not the case.

The current was not so strong as when we pa.s.sed down, since the river had evidently fallen more than a foot, and was so shallow in several places, that we were obliged to haul the boat over them. On these occasions we were necessarily obliged to get out of her into the water, and had afterwards to sit still and to allow the sun to dry our clothes upon us.

The unemployed consequently envied those at the oars, as they sat shivering in their dripping clothes. I was aware that it was more from imagination than reality, that the men fancied the boat was unusually heavy, but I hesitated not in humouring them, and rather entered into their ideas than otherwise, and endeavoured to persuade them that she pulled the lighter for the cleaning we gave her.

A tribe of natives joined us, and we had the additional trouble of guarding our stores. They were, however, very quiet, and as we had broken up our casks, on leaving the coast, we were enabled to be liberal in our presents of iron hoop, which they eagerly received. We calculated that we should reach the princ.i.p.al junction in about fifteen days from this place.

NATIVE BURIAL-PLACE.

The natives left us to pursue our solitary journey as soon as the boat was reloaded. Not one of them had the curiosity to follow us, nor did they appear to think it necessary that we should be attended by envoys. We stopped for the night upon the left bank; and close to a burial-ground that differed from any I had ever seen. It must have been used many years, from the number of bones that were found in the bank, but there were no other indications of such a place either by mounds or by marks on the trees. The fact, therefore, is a singular one. I have thought that some battle might have been fought near the place, but I can hardly think one of their battles could have been so destructive.

IMPEDED BY SHOALS.

We had now only to make the best of our journey, rising at dawn, and pulling to seven and often to nine o'clock. I allowed the men an hour from half-past eleven to half-past twelve, to take their bread and water. This was our only fare, if I except an occasional wild duck; but these birds were extremely difficult to kill, and it cost us so much time, that we seldom endeavoured to procure any. Our dogs had been of no great use, and were now too weak to have run after anything if they had seen either kangaroos or emus; and for the fish, the men loathed them, and were either too indifferent or too much fatigued to set the night-lines. Shoals frequently impeded us as we proceeded up the river, and we pa.s.sed some rapids that called for our whole strength to stem. A light wind a.s.sisted us on two or three of these occasions, and I never failed hoisting the sail at every fitting opportunity. In some parts the river was extremely shallow, and the sand-banks of amazing size; and the annoyance of dragging the boat over these occasional bars, was very great. We pa.s.sed several tribes of blacks on the 19th and 20th; but did not stop to communicate with them.

I believe I have already mentioned that shortly after we first entered the Murray, flocks of a new paroquet pa.s.sed over our heads, apparently emigrating to the N.W. They always kept too high to be fired at, but on our return, hereabouts, we succeeded in killing one. It made a good addition to our scanty stock of subjects of natural history. It is impossible to conceive how few of the feathered tribe frequent these distant and lonely regions. The common white c.o.c.katoo is the most numerous, and there are also a few pigeons; but other birds descend only for water, and are soon again upon the wing. Our botanical specimens were as scanty as our zoological, indeed the expedition may, as regards these two particulars, almost be said to have been unproductive.

COMPILATION OF THE CHART.

When we came down the river, I thought it advisable to lay its course down as precisely as circ.u.mstances would permit: for for this purpose I had a large compa.s.s always before me, and a sheet of foolscap paper. As soon as we pa.s.sed an angle of the river, I took the bearings of the reach before us, and as we proceeded down it, marked off the description of country, and any remarkable feature. The consequence was, that I laid down every bend of the Murray River, from the Morumbidgee downwards. Its creeks, its tributaries, its flats, its valleys, and its cliffs, and, as far as I possibly could do, the nature of the distant interior. This chart was, of course, erroneous in many particulars, since I had to judge the length of the reaches of the river, and the extent of its angles, but I corrected it on the scale of the miles of lat.i.tude we made during the day, which brought out an approximate truth at all events. The hurried nature of our journey would not allow me to do more; and it will be remembered that my observations were all siderial, by reason that the s.e.xtant would not embrace the sun in his almost vertical position at noon. Admitting, however, the imperfection of this chart, it was of inconceivable value and comfort to us on our return, for, by a reference to it, we discovered our place upon the river, and our distance from our several encampments.

And we should often have stopped short of them had not the chart shown us that a few reaches more would bring us to the desired spots. It cheered the men to know where they were, and gave them conversation. To myself it was very satisfactory, as it enabled me to prepare for our meetings with the larger tribes, and to steer clear of obstacles in the more difficult navigation of some parts of the stream.

On the 21st, by dint of great labour we reached our camp of the 2nd February, from which it will be remembered the Murray took up a southerly course, and from which we likewise obtained a first view of the coast ranges. The journey to the sea and back again, had consequently occupied us twenty days. From this point we turned our boat's head homewards; we made it, therefore, a fixed position among the stages into which we divided our journey. Our attention was now directed to the junction of the princ.i.p.al tributary, which we hoped to reach in twelve days, and antic.i.p.ated a close to our labours on the Murray in eight days more from that stage to the Morumbidgee.