When Verney left the camp he found a bushy tree, as I had told him, stuck full of spears, and while he was deliberating as to which of those weapons he should choose, being on the west side of the bush, he suddenly found himself surrounded by a host of stealthy wretches, most of whom were already armed, all running down towards the camp. Some ran to this bush for their weapons, and were in the act of rushing down on to the camp, and would have speared us as we sat at supper, at their ease, from behind the thick fig-trees" shelter. Verney was so astounded at seeing them, and they were so astounded at seeing him, that it completely upset their tactics; for they naturally thought we were all there, and when Verney fired, it so far checked the advance column, that they paused for a second, while the rear guard ran up.
Then some from behind threw spears through the bush at Verney. He fired again, and called to us, and we arrived in time to send the enemy off, as fast as, if not faster, than they had come. It was a very singular circ.u.mstance that turned these wretches away; if Verney hadn"t gone for the spears, they could have sneaked upon, and killed us, without any chance of our escape. We must have risen a good deal in their estimation as strategists, for they were fairly out-generalled by chance, while they must have thought it was design.
After the dispersion, they reappeared on the top of the rocks some distance away, and threw spears down; but they were too far off; and when we let them see how far our rifle bullets could be sent, they gave several parting howls and disappeared.
I decided to keep watch to-night; there was a star pa.s.sing the meridian soon after eleven, and I wished to take an observation by it.
I told the others to turn in, as I would watch till then. Nearly at the time just mentioned, I was seated cross-legged on my rugs facing the north, taking my observation with the s.e.xtant and artificial horizon, when I thought I saw something faintly quivering at the corner of my left eye. I kept the s.e.xtant still elevated, and turned my head very slowly half way round, and there I saw the enemy, creeping out of the mulga timber on the west side of the little creek channel, and ranging themselves in lines. It was a very dusky, cloudy, but moonlight night. I dared not make any quick movement, but slowly withdrawing my right hand from the s.e.xtant, I took hold of my rifle which lay close alongside. A second of time was of the greatest importance, for the enemy were all ranged, and just ready balancing their spears, and in another instant there would have been a hundred spears thrown into the camp. I suddenly put down the s.e.xtant, and having the rifle almost in position, I grabbed it suddenly with my left hand and fired into the thickest mob, whereupon a horrible howling filled the midnight air. Seizing Verney"s rifle that was close by, I fired it and dispersed the foe. All the party were lying fast asleep on the tarpaulin, but my two shots quickly awoke them. I made them watch in turns till morning, with orders to fire two rifle cartridges every half hour, and the agony of suspense in waiting to hear these go off, kept me awake the whole night, like Carlyle and his neighbours" fowls.
Our foes did not again appear. At the first dawn of light, over at some rocky hills south-westward, where, during the night, we saw their camp fires, a direful moaning chant arose. It was wafted on the hot morning air across the valley, echoed again by the rocks and hills above us, and was the most dreadful sound I think I ever heard; it was no doubt a death-wail. From their camp up in the rocks, the chanters descended to the lower ground, and seemed to be performing a funereal march all round the central ma.s.s, as the last tones we heard were from behind the hills, where it first arose.
To resume: we left the almost exhausted channel of the Ferdinand, and pushed on for the Telegraph Line. In the sandhills and scrub we came upon an open bit of country, in lat.i.tude 27 degrees 35" 34", and found a shallow well, at which we encamped on the evening of August 11th. In sixty miles farther, going nearly east by north, the nature of the country entirely altered; the scrubs fell off, and an open stony country, having low, flat-topped ridges or table-lands, succeeded.
This was a sure indication of our near approach to the Telegraph Line, as it is through a region of that kind, that the line runs in this lat.i.tude. I turned more northerly for a waterhole in the Alberga, called Appatinna, but we found it quite dry. There were two decrepit old native women, probably left there to starve and die by their tribe. I gave them some food and water, but they were almost too far gone to eat. From thence, travelling south-easterly, we came upon the Neale"s River, in forty miles. At twenty miles farther down the Neale"s, which was quite dry as far as we travelled on it, going easterly, we arrived at Mount O"Halloran, a low hill round whose base the Trans-Continental Telegraph Line and road sweeps, at what is called the Angle Pole, sixty miles from the Peake Telegraph Station.
We were very short of water, and could not find any, the country being in a very dry state. We pushed on, and crossed the stony channel of a watercourse called the St. Cecilia, which was also dry. The next water that I knew of, between us and the Peake, was a spring near Hann"s Creek, about thirty miles from the Peake. However, on reaching Hann"s Creek, we found sufficient water for our requirements, although it was rather brackish. Moving on again we reached the Peake Telegraph Station on the 23rd of August, and were most cordially received and welcomed by my old friend Mr. Chandler, Mr. Flynn, the police trooper, and every one else at that place.
CHAPTER 5.5. FROM 23RD AUGUST TO 20TH SEPTEMBER, 1876.
Depart for the south.
Arrive at Beltana.
Camels returned to their depot.
The Blinman Mine.
A dinner.
Coach journey to the Burra-Burra Mines.
A banquet and address.
Rail to Adelaide.
Reception at the Town Hall.
A last address.
Party disbanded.
Remarks.
The end.
Being among such good friends at the Peake, we naturally remained a few days before we left for Adelaide; nothing remarkable occurred on the road down. At Beltana the camels were returned to their depot. The Blinman Copper Mine is about thirty miles from there, and was then, the terminus of the mail coach line from Adelaide. The residents of the Blinman invited Alec Ross and myself to a dinner, presided over by my very good friend Mr. J.B. b.u.t.tfield, the Resident Police Magistrate. Then we all took the mail coach, and reached the Burra-Burra Copper Mines, on the evening of the next day. Here a banquet was held in our honour, at which a number of ladies attended, and I was presented with a very handsome address. The Burra Mines are a hundred miles from Adelaide.
Next day we took the train for the city. At the town of Gawler, or, as it used to be called, Gawlertown, twenty-five miles from the metropolis, a number of gentlemen were a.s.sembled to welcome us on the platform. Our healths were drank in champagne, and an address presented to me. Pursuing our journey, Adelaide was reached by midday.
A number of people were waiting the arrival of the train, and when we alighted we were welcomed with cheers. Carriages were in attendance to take us to the Town Hall, where we were welcomed by Caleb Peac.o.c.k, Esquire, the Mayor,--who first invited us to refreshments, and then presented us to the citizens, who were crowded in the large hall. Mr.
Peac.o.c.k made a very eloquent and eulogistic speech, and presented me with a very handsome address on behalf of himself, the Corporation, and the citizens of Adelaide. The next day the party was disbanded, and the expedition was at an end.
A few closing remarks, I suppose I may make. We again joined the great family of civilised mankind; and if I have any readers who have followed my story throughout its five separate phases, I may account myself fortunate indeed. A long array of tautological detail is inseparable from the records of Australian, as well as any other exploration, because it must be remembered that others, who come after, must be guided by the experiences and led to places, and waters, that the first traveller discovers; and am I to be blamed if I have occasionally mixed up my narrative with an odd remark, anecdote, or imaginative idea? These, I trust, will not in my reader"s opinion detract from any merits it may possess. I have collected many thousands of plants and hundreds of entomological and geological specimens; a great portion of the list of the former and all of the latter have unfortunately been lost, only a list of plants collected during my first and second expeditions now remains, which appears at the end of these volumes.
It is with regret I have had to record the existence of such large areas of desert land encountered in my travels in Australia. The emigrant, however, need have no fear on that account. The scenes of his avocations will be far removed from them. They are no more a check to emigration now than fifty years ago. As a final remark, I may say my former companion in the field, Mr. W.H. Tietkens, has just returned from a fresh exploration of the country in the vicinity of Lake Amadeus, and the report of his travels should be looked forward to with pleasure by all who take any interest in our Colonial dependencies.
If my narrative has no other recommendation, it may at least serve to while away a vacant hour, and remind my readers of something better, they have read before. It was not for what I had written, that I hoped to reap the good opinion of the world, but for what I have done, and that I have recorded. Any one who is sufficiently interested to read these pages, may well understand the trials and dangers that have beset my path. The number of miles of previously unknown country that I have explored reaches to the sum of many thousands. The time I expended was five of the best years of my life. As a recognition of my labours, I have received the Patron"s Gold Medal of the Royal Geographical Society of London; and the late King Victor Emanuel sent me a decoration and diploma of Knighthood, of the Order of the Crown of Italy.
To a man accustomed to camels for exploration, the beautiful horse sinks into the insignificance of a pigmy when compared to his majestic rival, the mighty ship of the desert, and a.s.suredly had it not been for these creatures and their marvellous powers, I never could have performed the three last journeys which complete my public explorations in Australia.
I have called my book The Romance of Exploration; the romance is in the chivalry of the achievement of difficult and dangerous, if not almost impossible, tasks. Should I again be called on to enter the Field of Discovery, although to scenes remote from my former Australian sphere, I should not be the explorer I have represented myself in these pages, if, even remembering the perils of my former adventures, I should shrink from facing new. An explorer is an explorer from love, and it is nature, not art, that makes him so.
The history of Australian exploration, though not yet quite complete, is now so far advanced towards its end, that only minor details now are wanting, to fill the volume up; and though I shall not attempt to rank myself amongst the first or greatest, yet I think I have reason to call myself, the last of the Australian explorers.
As a last remark, I may say the following lines may convey some of my real feelings towards:--
AUSTRALIA.
What though no hist"ries old, Rest o"er that land of gold; And though no bard has told Tales, of her clime:
What though no tow"r display, Man"s work of other days; And, though her sun"s bright rays In the old time;
Gleam"d on no mighty fanes, Built by the toiling pains Of slaves, in galling chains, In the earth"s prime.
Hers is a new bright land; By G.o.d"s divine command, Where each industr"us hand, Willing to toil;
What though no song records, Deeds of her martial hordes, Who made, with conquering swords, Heroes sublime.
Gathers the fruits of peace, Gathers the golden fleece, And the fair earth"s increase, From the rich soil.
Hers is a flow"ry crown; Science and Hope look down On each new glitt"ring town, Whose structures rise;
And to Time"s latest age, Hers shall, the brightest page, Written by bard or sage, Be, "neath the skies.