No other prospect of relief from this most distressing of all privations remained to us, and the day was one of extraordinary heat, for the thermometer, which had never before been above 101 degrees on this journey, now stood at 108 degrees in the shade. The party had travelled sixteen miles, and the cattle could not be driven further with any better prospect of finding water. We therefore encamped in this valley while I explored it upwards, but found all dry and desolate. Mr. White returned late, after a most laborious but equally fruitless search northward, and we consequently pa.s.sed a most disagreeable afternoon. Unable to eat, the cattle lay groaning, and the men extended on their backs watched some heavy thunderclouds which at length stretched over the sky; the very crows sat on the trees with their mouths open.
The thunder roared and the cloud broke darkly over us, but its liquid contents seemed to evaporate in the middle air. At half-past seven a strong hot wind set in from the north-east and continued during the night. Thermometer 90 degrees. I was suddenly awoke from feverish sleep by a violent shaking of my tent, and I distinctly heard the flapping of very large wings, as if some bird, perhaps an owl, had perched upon it.
January 5.
The sun"s rays were scorching before his red orb had cleared the horizon, but ere he appeared the party was in motion. No dew had fallen, yet even the distressed bullocks and horses seemed to partic.i.p.ate in the hope which led us forward. With one accord men and quadrupeds hastened from the inhospitable valley, common sufferers from the want of an element so essential to the living world. Continuing on the same bearing of 24 degrees east of north we reached the highest part of some clear ground, at about two miles from where we had encamped, and from this spot I obtained an extensive view over the country before us. The ground sloped for several miles towards a line of trees beyond which a steep ridge extended parallel to that line, and upwards to the mountains, evidently enclosing a channel of drainage, so that I ventured at once, on seeing this, to a.s.sure the men that I saw where we should meet with water. The way to it was all downhill, open and smooth; while the Nundewar range, now to the southward, presented, on this northern side, a beautiful variety of summits.
WATER FOUND NEXT DAY. DISCOVER A SMALL RIVER.
I galloped impatiently towards the line of wood, and found there a meandering channel full of water, with steep banks of soft earth, apparently a small river, and I hastened back with the welcome intelligence to the men. The extreme heat and the fatigue of travelling could not have been borne much longer. One man (Woods) had been left behind at his own request, being unable even to ride, from violent pains in his stomach; another was also so ill that he could not walk; the bullocks still drew, but with their tongues protruding most piteously. I sent a man on horseback back with a kettleful of water to Woods. The cattle being unyoked rushed to the stream, and in half an hour we were all comfortably encamped, with good gra.s.s beside us for the cattle. The bottom of this small river-channel was in no part gravelly, but consisted of soft earth, in which however the cattle did not sink very deep.
Fragments of flint, basalt, and quartz, apparently not worn by attrition, abound in the adjacent soil. The general direction of the watercourse appeared to be about 36 degrees north of west.
DUCKS.
At a pond above our camp the carpenter shot two ducks of a kind not previously seen by us, having a purple speck on the head, behind the ear.
We had now arrived in the country beyond the mountains which we had in vain attempted to cross, having found an open and accessible way round them; it remained to be ascertained whether the large river, as described by The Bushranger, was near; according to him it was the first river to be met with after crossing the range north-east by north of Tangulda.
At four P.M. the thermometer stood at 101 degrees. The lat.i.tude was ascertained in the evening to be 29 degrees 50 minutes 29 seconds South.
WHEEL PONDS.
January 6.
The morning was rather cool, with clouds and distant thunder. We now proceeded in a northerly direction until we were impeded by scrub, about three miles from the camp. Through this we cut our way, keeping as closely in the northern direction as the openings would allow. At length the wheels of one of the carts, and the axle of another, became unserviceable, and could not be repaired, unless we halted for two days.
As they could only be dragged a few miles further, I went forward as soon as we got clear of the scrubs, which extended three miles, in search of water for an encampment. I came upon a slight hollow and followed it down, but it disappeared on a level plain, bounded on each side by rising grounds. One dry pond encouraged my hopes, and I continued my search along a narrow flat, where the gra.s.s had been recently on fire. From this point, and while pursuing a kangaroo, I came upon a well marked watercourse with deep holes, but all these were dry. Tracing the line of these holes downwards to where the other flat united with it I found, exactly in the point of junction, as I had reason to expect, a deep pool of water. Once more therefore we could encamp, especially as two very large ponds on a rocky bed were found a little lower than that water first discovered. This element was daily becoming more precious in our estimation, and I had reason to be very anxious about it, on account of Mr. Finch, who was following in our track. The spot on which we encamped was covered with rich gra.s.s, and enclosed by shady casuarinae and thick brush. The prospect of two days" repose for the cattle on that verdure, and under these shades, was most refreshing to us all. It was, indeed, a charming spot, enlivened by numbers of pigeons, and the songs of little birds, in strange, but very pleasing notes.
Here I again remarked that among these casuarinae scrubs the eucalyptus, so common in the colony, was only to be seen near water; so that its white shining bark and gnarled branches, while they reminded us of home at Sydney, also marked out the spots for fixing our nightly home in the bush.
EXCESSIVE HEAT AND DROUGHT.
January 7.
The night had been unusually hot, the thermometer having stood at 90 degrees, and there had not been a breath of wind. Few of the men had slept. Thus even night, which had previously afforded us some protection from our great enemy, the heat, no longer relieved us from its effects; and this incessant high temperature which weakened the cattle, dried up the waters, destroyed our wheels, and nourished the fires that covered the country with smoke, made humidity appear to us the very essence of existence, and water almost an object of adoration. No disciple of Zoroaster could have made proselytes of us. The thermometer ranged from 96 to 101 degrees during the day, and during the last five nights had stood as high as 90 degrees between sunset and sunrise. From the time the party left Sydney rain had fallen on only one day. We left each friendly waterhole in the greatest uncertainty whether we should ever drink again, and it may be imagined with what interest, under such circ.u.mstances, I watched the progress of a cloudy sky. It was not uncommon for the heavens to be overcast, but the clouds seemed to consist more of smoke than moist vapour. The wind, from the time of our first arrival in the country, had blown from the north or north-west, and the bent of trees, at all exposed, showed that these were the prevailing winds.
DESCRIPTION OF THE WOODS.
The country when seen from an eminence appeared to be very generally wooded, but the lower parts were perfectly clear, or thinly strewed with bushes, and slender trees, chiefly varieties of acacia. The princ.i.p.al wood consisted of casuarinae which grew in thick clumps, or scrubs, and very much impeded, as has already been stated, our progress in any given direction. I found that these scrubs of casuarinae grew generally on rising grounds, and chiefly on their northern or eastern slopes. We saw little of the callitris tribe, after we had crossed the first hill beyond our last camp on the Namoi. On the contrary, these casuarinae scrubs and gra.s.sy plains seemed to characterise the country to the westward and northward of the Nundewar range, as far, at least, as we had yet penetrated. The course of this chain of ponds appeared to be parallel to that on which we had previously encamped, 36 degrees North of West. A yellow, highly calcareous sandstone occurred in the bed and banks of this stream, forming a stratum from two or three feet in thickness, and in parts of the upper surface nodules of ironstone were embedded.
On examining our wheels, we found that the heat had damaged them very much, some of the spokes having shrunk more than an inch. The carpenter managed however to repair them this day.
January 8.
The morning was cool and pleasant, with a breeze from the west. We left the ponds (named Wheel Ponds) exactly at six A.M., and, after travelling a mile, entered a scrub through which we were compelled to cut a lane with axes, for three miles; when at length the wood opened, and some trees of that species of eucalyptus called box grew on the flats. At five miles from our camp I shot a kangaroo.
MEET WITH NATIVES.
At seven miles, as we entered a forest,* we heard the sound of the natives" hatchets, and we saw soon after their fires at a distance. We at length came unawares upon a native in a tree, for he was so busy at work cutting out an opossum, that he did not see us, until we were very near him. A gin and child gave the alarm, upon which he stared at the strange a.s.semblage with a look of horror, and immediately calling to the female in an authoritative tone, she disappeared in the woods. He then threw a club, or nulla-nulla, to the foot of the tree, and ascended to the highest branch. I called to him, and made such signs as I thought most likely to give him confidence and remove his apprehensions of harm; but apparently to no purpose, for his reply was "Ogai!" p.r.o.nounced in a loud imperative tone. I thought it best to proceed quietly on our way; whereupon he descended and ran off, having picked up two spears which lay near the tree. We heard calls in various directions, and witefellow p.r.o.nounced very loudly and distinctly. Witefellow, or wite ma, appears to be their name (of course derived from us) for our race, and this appellation probably accompanies the first intelligence of such strangers to the most remote, interior regions.
(*Footnote. A forest means in New South Wales, an open wood, with gra.s.s.
The common bush or scrub consists of trees and saplings, where little gra.s.s is to be found.)
CROSS THE DRY BED OF A RIVER.
We soon after came upon the bank of a river-course, in the bed of which, although deep, broad, and gravelly, there was no water; its general direction was westward. At eight miles we entered upon an extensive, open plain, which reached to the horizon in the direction of 10 degrees West of North. We crossed it, continuing our journey northward, until a thick scrub obliged me to turn to the east.
A FRIENDLY NATIVE WITH HIS FAMILY.
At thirteen miles, being again in a wood, we heard the native axe at work, and, naturally eager to communicate with or even see the faces of fellow-creatures in these dismal solitudes, I allowed Dawkins to go towards them unarmed, that he might, at least by signs, ascertain where water was to be found. A considerable time having elapsed without his reappearance, I went after him, and found him in communication (by signs) with a very civil native, who had just carried a quant.i.ty of wild honey to his gin and child, having first offered some to Dawkins. This man betrayed no signs of fear, neither had he any offensive weapons, but he refused to accompany Dawkins to the rest of the party, rather inviting the latter, by signs, to accompany him. For water, he pointed both to the north-east and south-west, and all around, as if it had been abundant; numerous pigeons and kangaroos also showed that there was some at no great distance; nevertheless we were doomed to pa.s.s another night without any, after a long day"s journey.
NO WATER.
On quitting the wood where we met the native we crossed a plain which appeared to slope westward. Night was coming on, and I directed my course towards some tall trees, where we found a hollow, but no water remained in it; yet here we were nevertheless obliged to encamp. Some of the men who had set out in search of water had not returned when it became dark; but on our sending up a rocket they found their way to the camp, although they had not succeeded in their search for water.
From this camp the summits of the Nundewar range were still visible, and very useful in determining our longitude. One cone in particular (Mount Riddell) promised from its height to be a landmark still on these northern plains. (See below, outline of summits as seen on 12th January.)
REACH THE GWYDIR.
Continuing our journey at half-past five A.M. over the clear plain, we came upon several ponds, distant not more than a mile from where we had pa.s.sed the night. We lost no time in watering the cattle and proceeding.
At half a mile beyond I perceived on the right some very green gra.s.s by the edge of a hollow, overhung by spreading eucalypti. I found there a fine lagoon of considerable extent, and brim-full of the purest water.
There were no reeds, but short gra.s.s grew on the brink, and near the sh.o.r.e a few waterlilies. Here we filled our keg and kettles. We next crossed some slightly rising ground, and high in the branches of the trees I perceived, to my astonishment, dry tufts of gra.s.s, old logs, and other drift matter! I felt confident that we were at length approaching something new, perhaps the large river, the Kindur of The Bushranger. On descending by a very gentle slope, a dark and dense line of gigantic bluegum-trees (eucalyptus) growing amid long gra.s.s and reeds, encouraged our hopes that we had at length found the big river. A narrow tract of rich soil covered with long gra.s.s and seared with deep furrows intervened. I galloped over this, and beheld a broad silvery expanse, shaded by steep banks and lofty trees. In this water no current was perceptible, but the breadth and depth of channel far exceeded that of the Namoi. Nevertheless this was not the Kindur as described by The Barber, but evidently the Gwydir of Cunningham, as seen by him at a higher part of its course. We were exactly in the lat.i.tude of the Gwydir, the course of which was also westward. It was however a very new feature of the country to us, and after so much privation, heat and exposure the living stream and umbrageous foliage gave us a grateful sense of abundance, coolness, and shade. Trees of great magnitude give a grandness of character to any landscape, but especially to river scenery. The blue gum (eucalyptus) luxuriates on the margin of rivers, and grows in such situations to an enormous size. Such trees overhung the water of the Gwydir, forming dense ma.s.ses of shade, in which white c.o.c.katoos (Plyctolophus galeritus) sported like spirits of light.
CROSS IT WITH ONE MAN.
As soon as I had fixed on the camp I forded the river, accompanied by Woods carrying my rifle. The water where I crossed did not reach above the ankle, but the steepness of the banks on each side was a great obstacle to the pa.s.sage of my horse. I proceeded due north, in search of rising ground, but the whole country seemed quite level. After crossing an open plain of about two miles in length, I entered a brush of Acacia pendula, and soon after I arrived at an old channel or hollow scooped out by floods.
PREVENTED BY A NATIVE WITH SPEARS FROM SHOOTING A KANGAROO.
As I approached a line of bushes I saw a kangaroo which sat looking at my horse until we were very near it, and I was asking Woods whether he thought we could manage to carry it back if I shot it; when my horse, suddenly p.r.i.c.king his ears, drew my attention to a native, apparently also intent on the kangaroo, and having two spears on his shoulder. On perceiving me he stood and stared for a moment, then taking one step back, and swinging his right arm in the air, he poised one of his spears, and stood stretched out in an att.i.tude to throw. He was a tall man, covered with pipe-clay, and his position of defiance then, as he could never have before seen a horse, was manly enough. It was not prudent to retire at that moment, although I was most anxious to avoid a quarrel. I therefore galloped my horse at the native, which had the desired effect; for he immediately turned, and disappeared at a dog-trot among the bushes.
RE-CROSS THE RIVER.
By going forward I gained a convenient cover, which enabled me to retire upon the river without seeming to turn, as in fact I did, to avoid further collision with the natives at so great a distance from the party.
The bed of the river was flat, and consisted of small pebbles, not much worn by attrition, and mixed with sand. Many dead trees lay in parts of the channel. The average breadth of the water was forty-five yards; the breadth from bank to bank seventy-two yards; and the perpendicular height of the banks above the water twenty-seven feet.
In the afternoon the natives appeared on the opposite bank, and were soon after heard calling out "Witefellow, Witefellow." Dawkins advanced quietly to the riverbank to speak to them and encourage them to cross; but they disappeared as soon as they saw him.
The Barber had stated that the large river was the first water to be met with after crossing the range in the direction of north-east by north from Tangulda. We had reached the country beyond that range by going round it; and had at length found, after crossing various dry channels, not the great river described by him, but only the Gwydir of Cunningham.
It remained for me to trace this into the interior, as far as might be necessary to ascertain its ultimate course; with the probability, also, of discovering its junction with some river of greater importance.
CHAPTER 1.4.
Change the route to trace the course of the Gwydir.
A native village of bowers.
Effect of sudden moisture on the wheels.
Tortuous course of the Gwydir.
Lines of irrigation across the plains.
Heavy rain.