Narrative of an Expedition into

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pitched our tents at the place to which I have led him, and which I shall henceforth call the "

Depo

the want of that life-sustaining element, without which our efforts would have been unavailing, for independently of the beautiful sheet of water, on the banks of which the camp was established, there was a small lagoon to the S.E. of us, and around it there was a good deal of feed, besides numerous water-holes in the rocky gully. The creek was marked by a line of gum-trees, from the mouth of the glen to its junction with the main branch, in which, excepting in isolated spots, water was no longer to be found. The Red Hill (afterwards called Mount Poole), bore N.N.W. from us, distant 3 1/2 miles; between us and it there were undulating plains, covered with stones or salsolaceous herbage, excepting in the hollows, wherein there was a little grass. Behind us were level stony plains, with small sandy undulations, bounded by brush, over which the Black Hill, bearing S.S.E. from the Red Hill, was visible, distant 10 miles. To the eastward the country was, as I have described it, hilly. Westward at a quarter of a mile the low range, through which Depot Creek forces itself, shut out from our view the extensive plains on which it rises. Thi

t this time, too, the men generally complained of rheumatism, and I suspected that I was not myself altogether free from that depressing complaint, since I had violent pains in my hip joints; but I attributed them

he northern ranges, as passing through a gap in the hills to the eastward. They returned to the camp on the 4th, Mr. Stuart having been very diligent in his work. Flood had also obeyed my orders; but could find no water in the lower branches of the creek, although there was so much in it nearer the hills. The party had fallen in with a small tribe of natives, for whom Flood had shot an emu. Mr. Stuart informed me that they were very commun

at sunset, and settled in the west, the same deep tint being then visible above the eastern horizon which in the morning had been seen in the west. The thermometer ranged from 100 degrees to 117 degrees in the shade at 3 p.m.; the barometer from 29.300 degrees to 29.100 degrees. Water boiled at 21

ort time we were surrounded by several hundreds of the common kite, stooping down to within a few feet of us, and then turning away, after having eyed us steadily. Several approached us so closely, that they threw themselves back to avoid contact, opening their beaks and spreading out their talons. The long flight of these birds, reaching from the ground into the heavens, put me strongly in mind of one of Martin's beautiful designs, in which he produces the effect of distance by a multitude of objects gradually

ey had, however, covered up their fires and left their nets, as if with the intention of returning

apidly, that we were obliged to have an underground room constructed to work in, and it proved of infinite service a

Tor

to the Secretary of State assumed his position to be correct. There was a small range, distant about 20 miles to the westward of the stony range connected with the Depot Creek. It struck me that we might from them obtain a distant view of Mount Serle, or see some change of country favourable to my future views. Under this impression, I left the camp on the 7th of the month, with Mr. Poole and two of the men. The ranges were at a greater distance than I had imagined, but were of trifling elevation, and on arriving at them I found that the horizon to the westward was still closed from my view, by rising ground that intervened. I should have pushed on for it, but Mr. Poole was unfortunately taken ill, and I felt it necessary to give him my own horse, as having easier paces than the one he was riding. It was with difficulty I got him on his way back to the camp as far as the upper waterhol

being too weak to venture on a protracted excursion of such a kind, I took Mr. Stuart, my draftsman, with me. I should have delayed this excursion for a few days, however, only that I feared the total failure of the creeks in the distant interior; I proposed, in the first place, to make for the last and most distant water-hole in the little creek beyond the ranges. Thence to take the light cart with one horse, carrying as much water as he could draw, and with one man, on foot, to pursue a due north course into the brush. I hoped by this arrangement to gain the 27th parallel, and in so doing t

nce to the next water was too great for us to attempt reaching it until late, we stopped here for the night. Some natives had been on the creek in the early

wind blew from the south, and the ther

hem, either as to when we might expect rain, or of the character of the distant interior, but they spoke a language totally different from the river tribes, although they had some few words in common, so that I could not rely on my interpretation of what they said. They were all of them circumcised,

were feeding upon the seed of the rice grass, and were scattered about, but we now found them, as well as many other birds, congregated in vast numbers preparing to mi

o the westward in order to avoid that rugged line, and discovered that the creek, instead of losing itself in the flat to the eastward, continued on a westerly course to our left; for being attracted by a flight of pigeons, wheeling round some gum-t

it and taken away his traps; but the water in the creek was almost dried up; thick, muddy, and putrid, we could hardly swallow it, and I regretted that we had not brought water with us from the hills, but I had been influenced by a desire to spare my poor horse, as I knew the task that was befo

d thickly matted with spinifex, through which it was equally painful to ourselves and poor Punch to tread. We crossed small sandy basins or hollows, and were unable to see to any distance. The only trees growing in this terrible place were a few acacias in the hollows, and some straggling melaleuca, with hakeae and one or two other common shrubs, all of low growth; there was no grass, neither were the few herbs that grew on the hollows such as the horse would eat. We stopped a little after sunset, having journeyed about 22 miles, on a small flat on which there were a few acacias, and some low silky grass as dry as a chip, so that if we had not been provident in bringing some oats poor Punch would have gone without his supper. A meridian altitude of Capella placed us in lat. 28 degrees 41 minutes 0 seconds. Our longitude by account being 141 degrees 15 minutes E. When I rose at daylight on the following morning, I observed that the horse had eaten but little of the dry and withered food on which he had been tethered; however, in consequence of our tank leaking, I was enabled to give him a good drink, when he seemed to revive, but no sooner commenced pulling than he perspired most profusely. We kept

descended into the plains 170 degrees, when I turned however to take bearings of the stony range it had disappeared, having been elevated by refraction above its true position. It bore about N.W. 1/2 W., distant from eight to nine miles. It was again some time after suns

to the prudence of taking the cart any further, when it was decided that our doing so would infallibly lead to Punch's destruction. According to my calculation we were now in latitude 28 degrees 9 minutes 0 seconds or thereabouts. I had hoped to have advanced some 60 miles beyond this point, but now found that it would be impossible to do so. There was no indication of a change of country from any rising ground near us, and as it was still early in the day I resolved on pushing forward until I should feel satisfied that I had passed into the 27th parallel; my reason for this being a desire to know what the character of the country, so far in the interior from, and in the same parallel as Moreton Bay, would be. I had intended tethering Punch out, and walking with Joseph, but as he remonstrated with me, and it did not appear that my riding him would do the horse any harm, I mounted, though without a saddle, and taking our guns, with a quart of water, we commenced our journey. We moved rapidly on, as I was anxious to return to the cart whilst there was yet daylight, to enable us to keep our tracks, but no material change took place in the aspect of the country. We crossed sand-ridge after sand-ridge only to meet disappointment, and I had just decided on turning, when we saw at the distance of about a quarter

a, smelling at the casks, and trying to get his nose into the bung holes, and implored for relief as much as an animal could do so by looks. Yet I am satisfied that a horse is not capable of strong attachment to man, but that he is a selfish brute, for however kindly he may be treated, where is the horse that will st

of recent feet I concluded they were in the ranges, and as the distance was too great for the horse to travel in a day, in his exhausted state, I pushed on at 4 p.m., and halted on the plains after having ridden about 6 miles. It was well indeed that I did so, for we did not gain the ranges until near sunset on the following da

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f the creek, which sloped down on either side, and was partially shaded by gum-trees. The remains of what must have been a fine pond of water occupied the centre, and although it was thick and muddy it was as nectar to myself and Joseph. I was surprised an

he valley was not bad, but there was little or no vegetation upon it. At 15 miles we arrived at the junction of another creek from the south, and running down their united channels, at three miles found a small quantity of water in a deep and shaded hollow. It was but a scanty supply however, yet being cleaner and purer than any we had for some time seen, I stopped and had some tea. There was a native's hut on the bank, from which the owner must have fled at our approach; it was quite new, and afforded me shelter during our short halt. The fugitive had left some few valuables behind him, and amongst them a piece of red ochre. Fr

f tenacious clay. We soon afterwards pulled up for the night, at two pools of water that were still of considerable size, and on which there were several new ducks. They must, indeed, have been large deep ponds not many weeks before, but had now sunk several feet from their highest level, and, however valuable to a passing traveller, were useless in other respects, as our cattle would have drained them in three or four days. From this place al

r skin; the reason why, perhaps, we were at t

e west and saw a beautiful park-like plain covered with grass, having groups of ornamental trees scattered over it. Whether it was the suddenness of the change, from barrenness and sterility to verdure and richness, I know not; but I thought, when I first gazed on it, that I never saw a more beautiful spot. It was, however, limited in extent, being not more than eight miles in circumference. Descending from the bank we crossed the plain on a south course. It was encircled by a line of gum-trees, between whose trunks the white bank of clay was visible. We crossed the plain amidst luxuriant grass; but the ground was rotten, and the whole area was evidently subject to flood. It was also clear that the creek exhausted itself in this extensive basin, from which, after the strictest search, we could find no outlet. On reaching the southern extremity of the plain, we crossed a broad bare channel, having a row of gum-trees on either side, and ascending a continuation of the clay bank, at once found ourselves in the scrub and amidst barrenness again; and at less than a mile, on a north-west course, beheld the sand ridges once more rising before us. I continued on this course, however, for eight miles, when I turned to the north-east, in order to cut any watercourse that might be in that direction, and to assure myself of the failure of the creek. After riding for five miles, I turned to the south, with the intention of ascending a sand hill at some distance, that swept the horizon in a semicircular form and was much higher than any others. Mr. Poole had informed me that he noticed a similar bank just bef

eastward to take bearings from some hills intermediate between Mount Poole and the Northern Range, as the distance between these points was too great. Our ride was over a singularly rugged country, of equally singular geological formation, nor can I doubt but that at one time or other there were currents sweeping over it in every direction. At one place that we passed there was a broad opening in a rocky but earth covered bank. Through this opening the eye surveyed a long plain, which at about two miles was bounded by low dark hills. Along this plain the channel of a stream was as distinctly marked in all its windings by small fragments of snow-white quartz as if water

spects of success I had in either quarter; for myself I felt that I had nothing to hope either in the north or the east; for even if I had contemplated crossing eastward to the Darling, which was more than 250 miles from me, the dreadful nature of the country would have deterred me; but such an idea never entered my head--I could n