AUSTRALIA TWICE TRAVERSED. 

THE ROMANCE OF EXPLORATION, BEING

A NARRATIVE COMPILED FROM THE JOURNALS

OF

FIVE EXPLORING EXPEDITIONS

INTO AND THROUGH

CENTRAL SOUTH AUSTRALIA, AND WESTERN AUSTRALIA, FROM 1872 TO 1876. 

BY

ERNEST GILES

FELLOW, AND GOLD MEDALLIST, OF THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. 

"GO FORTH, MY BOOK, AND SHOW THE THINGS, PILGRIMAGE UNTO THE PILGRIM BRINGS. "

BUNYAN. 

(PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR. Signed: "Yours faithfully, Ernest Giles. ")

CONTENTS. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES. 

INTRODUCTION. 

PREFACE. 

BOOK 1. 

CHAPTER 1. 1. From 4th to 30th August, 1872. 

CHAPTER 1. 2. From 30th August to 6th September, 1872. 

CHAPTER 1. 3. From 6th to 17th September, 1872. 

CHAPTER 1. 4. From 17th September to 1st October, 1872. 

CHAPTER 1. 5. From 1st to 15th October, 1872. 

CHAPTER 1. 6. From 15th October, 1872 to 31st January, 1873. 

BOOK 2. 

CHAPTER 2. 1. From 4th to 22nd August, 1873. 

CHAPTER 2. 2. From 22nd August to 10th September, 1873. 

CHAPTER 2. 3. From 10th to 30th September, 1873. 

CHAPTER 2. 4. From 30th September to 9th November, 1873. 

CHAPTER 2. 5. From 9th November to 23rd December, 1873. 

CHAPTER 2. 6. From 23rd December, 1873 to 16th January, 1874. 

CHAPTER 2. 7. From 16th January to 19th February, 1874. 

CHAPTER 2. 8. From 20th February to 12th March, 1874. 

CHAPTER 2. 9. From 12th March to 19th April, 1874. 

CHAPTER 2. 10. From 20th April to 21st May, 1874. 

CHAPTER 2. 11. From 21st May to 20th July, 1874. 

BOOK 3. 

CHAPTER 3. 1. From 13th March to 1st April, 1875. 

CHAPTER 3. 2. From 2nd April to 6th May, 1875. 

BOOK 4. 

CHAPTER 4. 1. From 6th May to 27th July, 1875. 

CHAPTER 4. 2. From 27th July to 6th October, 1875. 

CHAPTER 4. 3. From 6th October to 18th October, 1875. 

CHAPTER 4. 4. From 18th October to 18th November, 1875. 

BOOK 5. 

CHAPTER 5. 1. From 18th November, 1875 to 10th April, 1876. 

CHAPTER 5. 2. From 10th April to 7th May, 1876. 

CHAPTER 5. 3. From 7th May to 10th June, 1876. 

CHAPTER 5. 4. From 11th June to 23rd August, 1876. 

CHAPTER 5. 5. From 23rd August to 20th September, 1876. 

APPENDIX. 

INDEX. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PORTRAIT OF AUTHOR. 

CHAMBERS' PILLAR. 

THE MOLOCH HORRIDUS. 

VIEW IN THE GLEN OF PALMS. 

PALM-TREE FOUND IN THE GLEN OF PALMS. 

GLEN EDITH. 

PENNY'S CREEK. 

ESCAPE GLEN--THE ADVANCE. 

ESCAPE GLEN--THE RETREAT. 

MIDDLETON'S PASS AND FISH PONDS. 

JUNCTION OF THE PALMER AND THE FINKE. 

AN INCIDENT OF TRAVEL. 

TIETKENS'S BIRTHDAY CREEK AND MOUNT CARNARVON. 

ON BIRTHDAY CREEK. 

ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES AT "THE OFFICER, " MUSGRAVE RANGE. 

THE FAIRIES' GLEN. 

ZOE'S GLEN. 

THE STINKING PIT. 

ATTACK AT FORT MUELLER. 

DRAGGED BY DIAWAY. 

ATTACK AT SLADEN WATER. 

GILL'S PINNACLE. 

VIEW ON THE PETERMANN RANGE. 

ATTACK AT THE FARTHEST EAST. 

MOUNT OLGA. 

CIRCUS WATER. 

FIRST VIEW OF THE ALFRED AND MARIE RANGE. 

THE LAST EVER SEEN OF GIBSON. 

ALONE IN THE DESERT. 

JIMMY AT FORT MCKELLAR. 

THE HERMIT HILL AND FINNISS SPRING. 

WYNBRING ROCK. 

LITTLE SALT LAKE. 

IN QUEEN VICTORIA'S DESERT. 

QUEEN VICTORIA'S SPRING. 

ATTACK AT ULARRING. 

FORCING A PASSAGE THROUGH THE SCRUBS IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA. 

FIRST VIEW OF MOUNT CHURCHMAN. 

THE FIRST WHITE MAN MET IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA. 

ARRIVAL AT CULHAM (SAMUEL PHILLIPS'S). 

ARRIVAL AT PERTH. 

ARRIVAL AT THE TOWN HALL, PERTH. 

FAREWELL TO WESTERN AUSTRALIA. 

GLEN ROSS. 

GLEN FERDINAND. 

MAP OF FIRST EXPEDITION, 1872. 

MAP OF SECOND EXPEDITION, 1873-4. 

MAP OF AUSTRALIA, SHOWING THE SEVERAL ROUTES. 

MAP OF THIRD EXPEDITION, 1875. 

MAP OF FOURTH EXPEDITION, 1875. 

MAP OF FIFTH EXPEDITION, 1876. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES. 

The original journals of the field notes, from which the presentnarrative is compiled, were published, as each expedition ended, asparliamentary papers by the Government of the Colony of SouthAustralia. 

The journals of the first two expeditions, formed a small book, whichwas distributed mostly to the patrons who had subscribed to the fundfor my second expedition. The account of the third, found its way intothe South Australian "Observer, " while the records of the fourth andfifth journeys remained as parliamentary documents, the whole neverhaving appeared together. Thus only fragments of the accounts of mywanderings became known; and though my name as an explorer has beenheard of, both in Australia and England, yet very few people even inthe Colonies are aware of what I have really done. Therefore it wasthought that a work embodying the whole of my explorations might beacceptable to both English and Colonial readers. 

Some years have been allowed to elapse since these journeys werecommenced; but the facts are the same, and to those not mixed up inthe adventures, the incidents as fresh as when they occurred. 

Unavoidably, I have had to encounter a large area of desert country inthe interior of the colonies of South Australia, and WesternAustralia, in my various wanderings; but I also discoveredconsiderable tracts of lands watered and suitable for occupation. 

It is not in accordance with my own feelings in regard to Australiathat I am the chronicler of her poorer regions; and although anEnglishman, Australia has no sincerer well-wisher; had it beenotherwise, I could not have performed the work these volumes record. It has indeed been often a cause of regret that my lines of marchshould have led me away from the beautiful and fertile places uponAustralia's shores, where our countrymen have made their homes. 

On the subject of the wonderful resources of Australia I am not calledupon to enlarge, and surely all who have heard her name must haveheard also of her gold, copper, wool, wine, beef, mutton, wheat, timber, and other products; and if any other evidence were wanting toshow what Australia really is, a visit to her cities, and anexperience of her civilisation, not forgetting the great revenues ofher different provinces, would dispel at once all previous inaccurateimpressions of those who, never having seen, perhaps cannot believe inthe existence of them. 

In the course of this work my reader will easily discover to whom itis dedicated, without a more formal statement under such a heading. The preface, which may seem out of its place, is merely such to my ownjourneys. I thought it due to my readers and my predecessors in theAustralian field of discovery, that I should give a rapid epitome(which may contain some minor errors) of what they had done, and whichis here put forward by way of introduction. 

Most of the illustrations, except one or two photographs, wereoriginally from very rough sketches, or I might rather say scratches, of mine, improved upon by Mr. Val Prinsep, of Perth, WesternAustralia, who drew most of the plates referring to the camelexpeditions, while those relating to the horse journeys were sketchedby Mr. Woodhouse, Junr. , of Melbourne; the whole, however, haveundergone a process of reproduction at the hands of London artists. 

To Mrs. Cashel Hoey, the well-known authoress and Australiancorrespondent, who revised and cleared my original manuscripts, I haveto accord my most sincere thanks. To Mr. Henniker-Heaton, M. P. , whoappears to be the Imperial Member in the British Parliament for allAustralia, I am under great obligations, he having introduced me toMr. Marston, of the publishing firm who have produced these volumes. Ialso have to thank Messrs. Clowes and Sons for the masterly way inwhich they have printed this work. Also Messrs. Creed, Robinson, Fricker, and Symons, of the publishing staff. The maps have beenreproduced by Weller, the well-known geographer. 

(ILLUSTRATION: Gold Medal of the Royal Geographical Society of London. "Victoria D. G. Britanniarum Regina, 1837, Patrona. Or, Terras Reclusas, Ernest Giles, 1880. ")

INTRODUCTION. 

Before narrating my own labours in opening out portions of the unknowninterior of Australia, it will be well that I should give a succinctaccount of what others engaged in the same arduous enterprise aroundthe shores and on the face of the great Southern Continent, haveaccomplished. 

After the wondrous discoveries of Columbus had set the Old World intoa state of excitement, the finding of new lands appears to have becomethe romance of that day, as the exploration by land of unknown regionshas been that of our time; and in less than fifty years after thediscovery of America navigators were searching every sea in hopes ofemulating the deeds of that great explorer; but nearly a hundred yearselapsed before it became known in Europe that a vast and misty landexisted in the south, whose northern and western shores had been metin certain latitudes and longitudes, but whose general outline had notbeen traced, nor was it even then visited with anything like asystematic geographical object. The fact of the existence of such aland at the European antipodes no doubt set many ardent andadventurous spirits upon the search, but of their exploits and labourswe know nothing. 

The Dutch were the most eager in their attempts, although Torres, aSpaniard, was, so far as we know, the first to pass in a voyage fromthe West Coast of America to India, between the Indian or MalayIslands, and the great continent to the south, hence we have TorresStraits. The first authentic voyager, however, to our actual shoreswas Theodoric Hertoge, subsequently known as Dirk Hartog--bound fromHolland to India. He arrived at the western coast between the years1610 and 1616. An island on the west coast bears his name: there heleft a tin plate nailed to a tree with the date of his visit and thename of his ship, the Endragt, marked upon it. Not very long afterTheodoric Hertoge, and still to the western and north-western coasts, came Zeachern, Edels, Nuitz, De Witt, and Pelsart, who was wreckedupon Houtman's Albrolhos, or rocks named by Edels, in his ship theLeewin or Lion. Cape Leewin is called after this vessel. Pelsart lefttwo convicts on the Australian coast in 1629. Carpenter was the nextnavigator, and all these adventurers have indelibly affixed theirnames to portions of the coast of the land they discovered. The next, and a greater than these, at least greater in his navigatingsuccesses, was Abel Janz Tasman, in 1642. Tasman was instructed toinquire from the native inhabitants for Pelsart's two convicts, and tobring them away with him, IF THEY ENTREATED HIM; but they were neverheard of again. Tasman sailed round a great portion of the Australiancoast, discovered what he named Van Diemen's land, now Tasmania, andNew Zealand. He it was who called the whole, believing it to be one, New Holland, after the land of his birth. Next we have Dampier, anEnglish buccaneer--though the name sounds very like Dutch; it wasprobably by chance only that he and his roving crew visited theseshores. Then came Wilhelm Vlaming with three ships. God save the markto call such things ships. How the men performed the feats they did, wandering over vast and unknown oceans, visiting unknown coasts withiron-bound shores, beset with sunken reefs, subsisting on food not fitfor human beings, suffering from scurvy caused by salted diet androtten biscuit, with a short allowance of water, in torrid zones, andliable to be attacked and killed by hostile natives, it is difficultfor us to conceive. They suffered all the hardships it is possible toimagine upon the sea, and for what? for fame, for glory? That theirnames and achievements might be handed down to us; and this seems tohave been their only reward; for there was no Geographical Society'smedal in those days with its motto to spur them on. 

Vlaming was the discoverer of the Swan River, upon which the seaporttown of Fremantle and the picturesque city of Perth, in WesternAustralia, now stand. This river he discovered in 1697, and he was thefirst who saw Dirk Hartog's tin plate. 

Dampier's report of the regions he had visited caused him to be sentout again in 1710 by the British Government, and upon his return, allprevious doubts, if any existed, as to the reality of the existence ofthis continent, were dispelled, and the position of its western shoreswas well established. Dampier discovered a beautiful flower of the peafamily known as the Clianthus Dampierii. In 1845 Captain Sturt foundthe same flower on his Central Australian expedition, and it is nowgenerally known as Sturt's Desert Pea, but it is properly named in itsbotanical classification, after its original discoverer. 

After Dampier's discoveries, something like sixty years elapsed beforeCook appeared upon the scene, and it was not until his return toEngland that practical results seemed likely to accrue to any nationfrom the far-off land. I shall not recapitulate Cook's voyages; thefirst fitted out by the British Government was made in 1768, but Cookdid not touch upon Australia's coast until two years later, when, voyaging northwards along the eastern coast, he anchored at a spot hecalled Botany Bay, from the brightness and abundance of the beautifulwild flowers he found growing there. Here two natives attempted toprevent his landing, although the boats were manned with forty men. The natives threw stones and spears at the invaders, but nobody waskilled. At this remote and previously unvisited spot one of the crewnamed Forby Sutherland, who had died on board the Endeavour, wasburied, his being the first white man's grave ever dug uponAustralia's shore; at least the first authenticated one--for might notthe remaining one of the two unfortunate convicts left by Pelsart havedug a grave for his companion who was the first to die, no manremaining to bury the survivor? Cook's route on this voyage was alongthe eastern coast from Cape Howe in south latitude 37 degrees 30' toCape York in Torres Straits in latitude 10 degrees 40'. He called thecountry New South Wales, from its fancied resemblance to that olderland, and he took possession of the whole in the name of George III asEngland's territory. 

Cook reported so favourably of the regions he had discovered that theBritish Government decided to establish a colony there; the spotfinally selected was at Port Jackson, and the settlement was calledSydney in 1788. After Cook came the Frenchman Du Fresne and hisunfortunate countryman, La Perouse. Then Vancouver, Blyth, and theFrench General and Admiral, D'Entre-Casteaux, who went in search ofthe missing La Perouse. In 1826, Captain Dillon, an English navigator, found the stranded remains of La Perouse's ships at two of theCharlotte Islands group. We now come to another great Englishnavigator, Matthew Flinders, who was the first to circumnavigateAustralia; to him belongs the honour of having given to this greatisland continent the name it now bears. In 1798, Flinders and Bass, sailing in an open boat from Sydney, discovered that Australia and VanDiemen's Land were separate; the dividing straits between were thennamed after Bass. In 1802, during his second voyage in theInvestigator, a vessel about the size of a modern ship's launch, Flinders had with him as a midshipman John Franklin, afterwards thecelebrated Arctic navigator. On his return to England, Flinders, touching at the Isle of France, was made prisoner by the Frenchgovernor and detained for nearly seven years, during which time aFrench navigator Nicolas Baudin, with whom came Perron and Lacepedethe naturalists, and whom Flinders had met at a part of the southerncoast which he called Encounter Bay in reference to that meeting, claimed and reaped the honour and reward of a great portion of theunfortunate prisoner's work. Alas for human hopes and aspirations, this gallant sailor died before his merits could be acknowledged orrewarded, and I believe one or two of his sisters were, until verylately, living in the very poorest circumstances. 

The name of Flinders is, however, held in greater veneration than anyof his predecessors or successors, for no part of the Australian coastwas unvisited by him. Rivers, mountain ranges, parks, districts, counties, and electoral divisions, have all been named after him; and, indeed, I may say the same of Cook; but, his work being mostlyconfined to the eastern coast, the more western colonies are not sointimately connected with his name, although an Australian poet hascalled him the Columbus of our shore. 

After Flinders and Baudin came another Frenchman, De Freycinet, boundon a tour of discovery all over the world. 

Australia's next navigator was Captain, subsequently Admiral, PhilipParker King, who carried out four separate voyages of discovery, mostly upon the northern coasts. At three places upon which Kingfavourably reported, namely Camden Harbour on the north-west coast, Port Essington in Arnhem's Land, and Port Cockburn in Apsley Straits, between Melville and Bathurst Islands on the north coast, military andpenal settlements were established, but from want of furtheremigration these were abandoned. King completed a great amount ofmarine surveying on these voyages, which occurred between the years1813 and 1822. 

Captain Wickham in the Beagle comes next; he discovered the FitzroyRiver, which he found emptied itself into a gulf named King's Sound. In consequence of ill-health Captain Wickham, after but a shortsojourn on these shores, resigned his command, and Lieutenant LortStokes, who had sailed with him in the Beagle round the rocky shoresof Magellan's Straits and Tierra del Fuego, received the command fromthe Lords of the Admiralty. Captain Lort Stokes may be considered thelast, but by no means the least, of the Australian navigators. On oneoccasion he was speared by natives of what he justly called TreacheryBay, near the mouth of the Victoria River in Northern Australia, discovered by him. His voyages occurred between the years 1839 and1843. He discovered the mouths of most of the rivers that fall intothe Gulf of Carpentaria, besides many harbours, bays, estuaries, andother geographical features upon the North Australian coasts. 

The early navigators had to encounter much difficulty and many dangersin their task of making surveys from the rough achievements of theDutch, down to the more finished work of Flinders, King and Stokes. Itis to be remembered that they came neither for pleasure nor for rest, but to discover the gulfs, bays, peninsulas, mountains, rivers andharbours, as well as to make acquaintance with the native races, thesoils, and animal and vegetable products of the great new land, so asto diffuse the knowledge so gained for the benefit of others who mightcome after them. In cockle-shells of little ships what dangers didthey not encounter from shipwreck on the sunken edges of coral ledgesof the new and shallow seas, how many were those who were never heardof again; how many a little exploring bark with its adventurous crewhave been sunk in Australia's seas, while those poor wretches whomight, in times gone by, have landed upon the inhospitable shore wouldcertainly have been killed by the wild and savage hordes of hostileaborigines, from whom there could be no escape! With Stokes the listof those who have visited and benefited Australia by their laboursfrom the sea must close; my only regret being that so poor achronicler is giving an outline of their achievements. I now turn toanother kind of exploration--and have to narrate deeds of even greaterdanger, though of a different kind, done upon Australia's face. 

In giving a short account of those gallant men who have lefteverlasting names as explorers upon the terra firma and terraincognita of our Australian possession, I must begin with theearliest, and go back a hundred years to the arrival of GovernorPhillip at Botany Bay, in 1788, with eleven ships, which have eversince been known as "The First Fleet. " I am not called upon to narratethe history of the settlement, but will only say that the Governorshowed sound judgment when he removed his fleet and all his men fromBotany Bay to Port Jackson, and founded the village of Sydney, whichhas now become the huge capital city of New South Wales. A new regionwas thus opened out for British labour, trade, capital, andenterprise. From the earliest days of the settlement adventurous andenterprising men, among whom was the Governor himself, who was on oneoccasion speared by the natives, were found willing to venture theirlives in the exploration of the country upon whose shores they had solately landed. Wentworth, Blaxland, and Evans appear on the list asthe very first explorers by land. The chief object they had in viewwas to surmount the difficulties which opposed their attempting tocross the Blue Mountains, and Evans was the first who accomplishedthis. The first efficient exploring expedition into the interior ofNew South Wales was conducted by John Oxley, the Surveyor-General ofthe colony, in 1817. His principal discovery was that some of theAustralian streams ran inland, towards the interior, and he tracedboth the Macquarie and the Lachlan, named by him after GovernorLachlan Macquarie, until he supposed they ended in vast swamps ormarshes, and thereby founded the theory that in the centre ofAustralia there existed a great inland sea. After Oxley came twoexplorers named respectively Hovell and Hume, who penetrated, in 1824, from the New South Wales settlements into what is now the colony ofVictoria. They discovered the upper portions of the River Murray, which they crossed somewhere in the neighbourhood of the present townof Albury. The river was then called the Hume, but it was subsequentlycalled the Murray by Captain Charles Sturt, who heads the list ofAustralia's heroes with the title of The Father of AustralianExploration. 

In 1827 Sturt made one of the greatest discoveries of this century--orat least one of the most useful for his countrymen--that of the RiverDarling, the great western artery of the river system of New SouthWales, and what is now South-western Queensland. In anotherexpedition, in 1832, Sturt traced the Murrumbidgee River, discoveredby Oxley, in boats into what he called the Murray. This river is thesame found by Hovell and Hume, Sturt's name for it having beenadopted. He entered the new stream, which was lined on either bank bytroops of hostile natives, from whom he had many narrow escapes, andfound it trended for several hundreds of miles in a west-north-westdirection, confirming him in his idea of an inland sea; but at acertain point, which he called the great north-west bend, it suddenlyturned south and forced its way to the sea at Encounter Bay, whereFlinders met Baudin in 1803. Neither of these explorers appear to havediscovered the river's mouth. On this occasion Sturt discovered theprovince or colony of South Australia, which in 1837 was proclaimed bythe British Government, and in that colony Sturt afterwards made hishome. 

Sturt's third and final expedition was from the colony of SouthAustralia into Central Australia, in 1843-1845. This was the firsttruly Central Australian expedition that had yet been despatched, although in 1841 Edward Eyre had attempted the same arduousenterprise. Of this I shall write anon. On his third expedition Sturtdiscovered the Barrier, the Grey, and the Stokes ranges, and amongnumerous smaller watercourses he found and named Strezletki's, Cooper's, and Eyre's Creeks. The latter remained the furthest knowninland water of Australia for many years after Sturt's return. Sturtwas accompanied, as surveyor and draftsman, by John McDouall Stuart, whom I shall mention in his turn. So far as my opinion, formed in mywanderings over the greater portions of the country explored by Sturt, goes, his estimate of the regions he visited has scarcely been borneout according to the views of the present day. 

Like Oxley, he was fully impressed with the notion that an inland seadid exist, and although he never met such a feature in his travels, heseems to have thought it must be only a little more remote than theparts he had reached. He was fully prepared to come upon an inlandsea, for he carried a boat on a bullock waggon for hundreds of miles, and when he finally abandoned it he writes: "Here we left the boatwhich I had vainly hoped would have ploughed the waters of an inlandsea. " Several years afterwards I discovered pieces of this boat, builtof New Zealand pine, in the debris of a flood about twenty miles downthe watercourse where it had been left. A great portion, if not allthe country, explored by that expedition is now highly-prized pastoralland, and a gold field was discovered almost in sight of a depotformed by Sturt, at a spot where he was imprisoned at a water hole forsix months without moving his camp. He described the whole region as adesert, and he seems to have been haunted by the notion that he hadgot into and was surrounded by a wilderness the like of which no humanbeing had ever seen or heard of before. His whole narrative is a taleof suffering and woe, and he says on his map, being at the furthestpoint he attained in the interior, about forty-five miles from wherehe had encamped on the watercourse he called Eyre's Creek, now awatering place for stock on a Queensland cattle run: "Halted at sunsetin a country such as I verily believe has no parallel upon the earth'ssurface, and one which was terrible in its aspect. " Sturt's views areonly to be accounted for by the fact that what we now call excellentsheep and cattle country appeared to him like a desert, because hiscomparisons were made with the best alluvial lands he had left nearthe coast. Explorers as a rule, great ones more particularly, are notwithout rivals in so honourable a field as that of discovery, althoughnot every one who undertakes the task is fitted either by nature orart to adorn the chosen part. Sturt was rivalled by no less celebratedan individual than Major, afterwards Sir Thomas, Mitchell, a soldierof the Peninsula War, and some professional jealousy appears to haveexisted between them. 

Major Mitchell was then the Surveyor-General of the Colony, and heentirely traversed and made known the region he appropriately namedAustralia Felix, now the colony of Victoria. Mitchell, like Sturt, conducted three expeditions: the first in 1831-1832, when he tracedthe River Darling previously discovered by Sturt, for several hundredmiles, until he found it trend directly to the locality at whichSturt, in his journey down the Murray, had seen and laid down itsmouth or junction with the larger river. Far up the Darling, inlatitude 30 degrees 5', Mitchell built a stockade and formed a depot, which he called Fort Bourke; near this spot the present town of Bourkeis situated and now connected by rail with Sydney, the distance beingabout 560 miles. Mitchell's second journey, when he visited AustraliaFelix, was made in 1835, and his last expedition into tropicalAustralia was in 1845. On this expedition he discovered a large riverrunning in a north-westerly direction, and as its channel was solarge, and its general appearance so grand, he conjectured that itwould prove to be the Victoria River of Captain Lort Stokes, and thatit would run on in probably increasing size, or at least inundiminished magnificence, through the 1100 or 1200 miles of countrythat intervened between his own and Captain Stokes's position. Hetherefore called it the Victoria River. Gregory subsequentlydiscovered that Mitchell's Victoria turned south, and was one and thesame watercourse called Cooper's Creek by Sturt. The upper portion ofthis watercourse is now known by its native name of the Barcoo, thename Victoria being ignored. Mitchell always had surveyors with him, who chained as he went every yard of the thousands of miles heexplored. He was knighted for his explorations, and lived to enjoy thehonour; so indeed was Sturt, but in his case it was only a mockery, for he was totally blind and almost on his deathbed when therecognition of his numerous and valuable services was so tardilyconferred upon him. (Dr. W. H. Browne, who accompanied Sturt to CentralAustralia in 1843-5 as surgeon and naturalist, is living in London;and another earlier companion of the Father of Australian Exploration, George McCleay, still survives. )

These two great travellers were followed by, or worked simultaneously, although in a totally different part of the continent, namely thenorth-west coast, with Sir George Grey in 1837-1839. His labours andescapes from death by spear-wounds, shipwreck, starvation, thirst, andfatigue, fill his volumes with incidents of the deepest interest. Edward Eyre, subsequently known as Governor Eyre, made an attempt toreach, in 1840-1841, Central Australia by a route north from the cityof Adelaide; and as Sturt imagined himself surrounded by a desert, soEyre thought he was hemmed in by a circular or horse-shoe-shaped saltdepression, which he called Lake Torrens; because, wherever he triedto push northwards, north-westwards, eastwards, or north-eastwards, heinvariably came upon the shores of one of these objectionable andimpassable features. As we now know, there are several of them withspaces of traversable ground between, instead of the obstacle beingone continuous circle by which he supposed he was surrounded. Inconsequence of his inability to overcome this obstruction, Eyre gaveup the attempt to penetrate into Central Australia, but pushingwesterly, round the head of Flinders' Spencer's Gulf, where now theinland seaport town of Port Augusta stands, he forced his way alongthe coast line from Port Lincoln to Fowler's Bay (Flinders), andthence along the perpendicular cliffs of the Great Australian Bight toAlbany, at King George's Sound. 

This journey of Eyre's was very remarkable in more ways than one; itsmost extraordinary incident being the statement that his horsestravelled for seven days and nights without water. I have travelledwith horses in almost every part of Australia, but I know that afterthree days and three nights without water horses would certainly knockup, die, or become utterly useless, and it would be impossible to makethem continue travelling. Another remarkable incident of his march isstrange enough. One night whilst Eyre was watching the horses, therebeing no water at the encampment, Baxter, his only white companion, was murdered by two little black boys belonging to South Australia, who had been with Eyre for some time previously. These little boysshot Baxter and robbed the camp of nearly all the food and ammunitionit contained, and then, while Eyre was running up from the horses towhere Baxter lay, decamped into the bush and were only seen thefollowing morning, but never afterwards. One other and older boy, anative of Albany, whither Eyre was bound, now alone remained. Eyre andthis boy (Wylie) now pushed on in a starving condition, living upondead fish or anything they could find for several weeks, and nevercould have reached the Sound had they not, by almost a miracle, fallenin with a French whaling schooner when nearly 300 miles had yet to betraversed. The captain, who was an Englishman named Rossiter, treatedthem most handsomely; he took them on board for a month while theirhorses recruited on shore--for this was a watering place ofFlinders--he then completely refitted them with every necessary beforehe would allow them to depart. Eyre in gratitude called the placeRossiter Bay, but it seems to have been prophetically christenedpreviously by the ubiquitous Flinders, under the name of Lucky Bay. Nearly all the watering places visited by Eyre consisted of thedrainage from great accumulations of pure white sand or hummocks, which were previously discovered by the Investigator; as Flindershimself might well have been called. The most peculiar of thesefeatures is the patch at what Flinders called the head of the GreatAustralian Bight; these sandhills rise to an elevation of severalhundred feet, the prevailing southerly winds causing them to slopegradually from the south, while the northern face is precipitous. Inmoonlight I have seen these sandhills, a few miles away, shining likesnowy mountains, being refracted to an unnatural altitude by thebright moonlight. Fortunate indeed it was for Eyre that such reliefwas afforded him; he was unable to penetrate at all into the interior, and he brought back no information of the character and nature of thecountry inland. I am the only traveller who has explored that part ofthe interior, but of this more hereafter. 

About this time Strezletki and McMillan, both from New South Wales, explored the region now the easternmost part of the colony ofVictoria, which Strezletki called Gipp's Land. These two explorerswere rivals, and both, it seems, claimed to have been first in thatfield. 

Next on the list of explorers comes Ludwig Leichhardt, a surgeon, abotanist, and an eager seeker after fame in the Australian field ofdiscovery, and whose memory all must revere. He successfully conductedan expedition from Moreton Bay to the Port Essington of King--on thenorthern coast--by which he made known the geographical features of agreat part of what is now Queensland, the capital being Brisbane atMoreton Bay. A settlement had been established at Port Essington bythe Government of New South Wales, to which colony the whole territorythen belonged. At this settlement, as being the only point of reliefafter eighteen months of travel, Leichhardt and his exhausted partyarrived. The settlement was a military and penal one, but wasultimately abandoned. It is now a cattle station in the northernterritory division of South Australia, and belongs to some gentlemenin Adelaide. 

Of Leichhardt's sad fate in the interior of Australia no tidings haveever been heard. On this fatal journey, which occurred in 1848, heundertook the too gigantic task of crossing Australia from east towest, that is to say, from Moreton Bay to Swan River. Even at thatperiod, however, the eastern interior was not all entirely unknown, asMitchell's Victoria River or Barcoo, and the Cooper's and Eyre'sCreeks of Sturt had already been discovered. The last-namedwatercourse lay nearly 1000 miles from the eastern coast, in latitude25 degrees south, and it is reasonable to suppose that to such a pointLeichhardt would naturally direct his course--indeed in what wasprobably his last letter, addressed to a friend, he mentions thiswatercourse as a desirable point to make for upon his new attempt. Butwhere his wanderings ended, and where the catastrophe that closed hisown and his companions' lives occurred, no tongue can tell. After hefinally left the furthest outlying settlements at the Mount Abundancestation, he, like the lost Pleiad, was seen on earth no more. Howcould he have died and where? ah, where indeed? I who have wanderedinto and returned alive from the curious regions he attempted and diedto explore, have unfortunately never come across a single record orany remains or traces of those long lost but unforgotten braves. Leichhardt originally started on his last sad venture with a party ofeight, including one if not two native black boys. Owing, however, tosome disagreement, the whole party returned to the starting point, butbeing reorganised it started again with the same number of members. There were about twenty head of bullocks broken in to carrypack-loads; this was an ordinary custom in those early days ofAustralian settlement. Leichhardt also had two horses and five or sixmules: this outfit was mostly contributed by the settlers who gave, some flour, some bullocks, some money, firearms, gear, etc. , and somegave sheep and goats; he had about a hundred of the latter. The packedbullocks were taken to supply the party with beef, in the meantimecarrying the expedition stores. The bullocks' pack-saddles were huge, ungainly frames of wood fastened with iron-work, rings, etc. 

Shortly after the expedition made a second start, two or three of themembers again seceded, and returned to the settlements, whileLeichhardt and his remaining band pushed farther and farther to thewest. 

Although the eastern half of the continent is now inhabited, thoughthinly, no traces of any kind, except two or three branded trees inthe valley of the Cooper, have ever been found. My belief is that theonly cause to be assigned for their destruction is summed up in thedread word "flood. " They were so far traced into the valley of theCooper; this creek, which has a very lengthy course, ends in LakeEyre, one of the salt depressions which baffled that explorer. A pointon the southern shore is now known as Eyre's Lookout. 

The Cooper is known in times of flood to reach a width of betweenforty and fifty miles, the whole valley being inundated. Floods maysurround a traveller while not a drop of local rain may fall, and hadthe members of this expedition perished in any other way, some remainsof iron pack-saddle frames, horns, bones, skulls, firearms, and otherarticles must have been found by the native inhabitants who occupiedthe region, and would long ago have been pointed out by the aboriginesto the next comers who invaded their territories. The length of timethat animals' bones might remain intact in the open air in Australiais exemplified by the fact that in 1870, John Forrest found the skullof a horse in one of Eyre's camps on the cliffs of the south coastthirty years after it was left there by Eyre. Forrest carried theskull to Adelaide. I argue, therefore, that if Leichhardt's animalsand equipment had not been buried by a flood, some remains must havebeen since found, for it is impossible, if such things were aboveground that they could escape the lynx-like glances of Australianaboriginals, whose wonderful visual powers are unsurpassed amongmankind. Everybody and everything must have been swallowed in acataclysm and buried deep and sure in the mud and slime of a flood. 

The New South Wales Government made praiseworthy efforts to rescue themissing traveller. About a year after Leichhardt visited PortEssington, the Government abandoned the settlement, and the prevailingopinion in the colony of New South Wales at that time was, thatLeichhardt had not been able to reach Eyre's Creek, but had beenforced up north, from his intended route, the inland-sea theory stillprevailing, and that he had probably returned to the old settlementfor relief. Therefore, when he had been absent two years, theGovernment despatched a schooner to the abandoned place. The master ofthe vessel saw several of the half-civilised natives, who wellremembered Leichhardt's arrival there, but he had not returned. Thenatives promised the master to take the greatest care of him should heagain appear, but it is needless to say he was seen no more. TheGovernment were very solicitous about him, and when he had been absentfour years, Mr. Hovendon Heley was sent away with an outfit ofpack-horses and six or seven men, to endeavour to trace him. Thisexpedition seems to have wandered about for several months, anddiscovered, as Mr. Heley states, two marked trees branded exactlyalike, namely L over XVA, and each spot where these existed isminutely described. There was at each, a water-hole, upon the bank ofwhich the camp was situated; at each camp a marked tree was foundbranded alike; at each, the frame of a tent was left standing; ateach, some logs had been laid down to place the stores and keep themfrom damp. The two places as described appear so identical that itseems impossible to think otherwise than that Heley and his partyarrived twice at the same place without knowing it. The tree or treeswere found on a watercourse, or courses, near the head of the WarregoRiver, in Queensland. The above was all the information gained by thisexpedition. A subsequent search expedition was sent out in 1858, underAugustus Gregory; this I shall place in its chronological order. Kennedy, a companion of Sir Thomas Mitchell into Tropical Australia in1845, next enters the field. He went to trace Mitchell's VictoriaRiver or Barcoo, but finding it turned southwards and broke into manychannels, he abandoned it, and on his return journey discovered theWarrego River, which may be termed the Murrumbidgee of Queensland. Ona second expedition, in 1848, Kennedy started from Moreton Bay topenetrate and explore the country of the long peninsula, which runs upnorthward between the Gulf of Carpentaria and the Pacific Ocean, andends at Cape York, the northernmost point of Australia in TorresStraits. From this disastrous expedition he never returned. He wasstarved, ill, fatigued, hunted by remorseless aborigines for days, andfinally speared to death by the natives of Cape York, when almostwithin sight of his goal, where a vessel was waiting to succour himand all his party. Only a black boy named Jacky Jacky was with him. After Kennedy's death Jacky buried all his papers in a hollow tree, and for a couple of days he eluded his pursuers, until, reaching thespot where his master had told him the vessel would be, he ran yellingdown to the beach, followed by a crowd of murderous savages. By theluckiest chance a boat happened to be at the beach, and the officersand crew rescued the boy. The following day a party led by Jackyreturned to where poor Kennedy lay, and they buried him. They obtainedhis books and maps from the tree where Jacky had hidden them. Thenarrative of this expedition is heart-rending. Of the whole number ofthe whites, namely seven, two only were rescued by the vessel at aplace where Kennedy had formed a depot on the coast, and left fourmen. 

With Captain Roe, a companion of King's, with whom he was speared andnearly killed by the natives of Goulburn Island, in 1820, and whoafterwards became Surveyor-General of the colony of Western Australia, the list of Australia's early explorers may be said to close, althoughI should remark that Augustus Gregory was a West Australian exploreras early as the year 1846. Captain Roe conducted the most extensiveinland exploration of Western Australia at that day, in 1848. No worksof fiction can excel, or indeed equal, in romantic and heart-stirringinterest the volumes, worthy to be written in letters of gold, whichrecord the deeds and the sufferings of these noble toilers in the dimand distant field of discovery afforded by the Australasian continentand its vast islands. It would be well if those works were read by thepresent generation as eagerly as the imaginary tales of adventurewhich, while they appeal to no real sentiment, and convey no solidinformation, cannot compete for a moment with those sublime records ofwhat has been dared, done, and suffered, at the call of duty, and forthe sake of human interests by men who have really lived and died. Ido not say that all works of fiction are entirely without interest tothe human imagination, or that writers of some of these works are notclever, for in one sense they certainly are, and that is, in onlywriting of horrors that never occurred, without going through thepreliminary agony of a practical realisation of the dangers they sographically describe, and from which, perhaps, they might be the veryfirst to flee, though their heroes are made to appear nothing lessthan demigods. Strange as it may appear, it seems because the tales ofAustralian travel and self-devotion are true, that they attract butlittle notice, for were the narratives of the explorers NOT true wemight become the most renowned novelists the world has ever known. Again, Australian geography, as explained in the works of Australianexploration, might be called an unlearned study. Let me ask how manyboys out of a hundred in Australia, or England either, have ever readSturt or Mitchell, Eyre, Leichhardt, Grey, or Stuart. It is possible afew may have read Cook's voyages, because they appear more national, but who has read Flinders, King, or Stokes? Is it because thesenarratives are Australian and true that they are not worthy ofattention?

Having well-nigh exhausted the list of the early explorers inAustralia, it is necessary now to turn to a more modern school. I mustadmit that in the works of this second section, with a few exceptions, such stirring narratives as those of the older travellers cannot befound. Nevertheless, considerable interest must still attach to them, as they in reality carry on the burning torch which will not beconsumed until by its light the whole of Australia stands revealed. 

The modern explorers are of a different class, and perhaps of one notso high as their predecessors. By this remark I do not mean anythinginvidious, and if any of the moderns are correctly to be classed withthe ancients, the Brothers Gregory must be spoken of next, as beingthe fittest to head a secondary list. Augustus Gregory was in the WestAustralian field of discovery in 1846. He was a great mechanical, aswell as a geographical, discoverer, for to him we are indebted for ourmodern horses' pack-saddles in lieu of the dreadful old Englishsumpter horse furniture that went by that name; he also invented a newkind of compass known as Gregory's Patent, unequalled for steering onhorseback, and through dense scrubs where an ordinary compass would bealmost useless, while steering on camels in dense scrubs, on a givenbearing, without a Gregory would be next to impossible; it would befar easier indeed, if not absolutely necessary, to walk and lead them, which has to be done in almost all camel countries. 

In 1854 Austin made a lengthened journey to the east and northwards, from the old settled places of Western Australia, and in 1856 AugustusGregory conducted the North Australian Expedition, fitted out underthe auspices of the Royal Geographical Society of London. Landing atStokes's Treachery Bay, Gregory and his brother Frank exploredStokes's Victoria River to its sources, and found another watercourse, whose waters, running inland, somewhat revived the old theory of theinland sea. Upon tracing this river, which he named Sturt's Creek, after the father of Australian exploration, it was found to exhaustitself in a circular basin, which was named Termination Lake. Retracing the creek to where the depot was situated, the partytravelled across a stretch of unknown country for some two hundredmiles, and striking Leichhardt's Port Essington track on Leichhardt'sRoper River, his route was followed too closely for hundreds of milesuntil civilisation was reached. My friend Baron von Muelleraccompanied this expedition as botanist, naturalist, surgeon andphysician. 

Soon after his return from his northern expedition, Gregory wasdespatched in 1858 by the Government of New South Wales to searchagain for the lost explorer Leichhardt, who had then been missing tenyears. This expedition resulted in little or nothing, as far as itsmain object was concerned, one or two trees, marked L, on the Barcooand lower end of the Thompson, was all it discovered; but, geographically, it settled the question of the course of the Barcoo, or Mitchell's Victoria, which Gregory followed past Kennedy's farthestpoint, and traced until he found it identical with Sturt's Cooper'sCreek. He described it as being of enormous width in times of flood, and two of Sturt's horses, abandoned since 1845, were seen but leftuncaptured. Sturt's Strezletki Creek in South Australian territory wasthen followed. This peculiar watercourse branches out from the Cooperand runs in a south-south-west direction. It brought Gregory safely tothe northern settlements of South Australia. The fruitless search forit, however, was one of the main causes of the death of Burke andWills in 1861. This was Gregory's final attempt; he accepted theposition of Surveyor-General of Queensland, and his labours as anexplorer terminated. His journals are characterised by a brevity thatis not the soul of wit, he appearing to grudge to others theinformation he had obtained at the expense of great endurance, hardihood, knowledge, and judgment. Gregory was probably the closestobserver of all the explorers, except Mitchell, and an advancedgeologist. 

In 1858 a new aspirant for geographical honours appeared on the fieldin the person of John McDouall Stuart, of South Australia, who, asbefore mentioned, had formerly been a member of Captain Sturt'sCentral Australian expedition in 1843-5 as draftsman and surveyor. Stuart's object was to cross the continent, almost in its greatestwidth, from south to north; and this he eventually accomplished. Afterthree attempts he finally reached the north coast in 1862, his rivalBurke having been the first to do so. Stuart might have been first, but he seems to have under-valued his rival, and wasted time inreturning and refitting when he might have performed the feat in twoif not one journey; for he discovered a well-watered country the wholeway, and his route is now mainly the South Australian TranscontinentalTelegraph Line, though it must be remembered that Stuart had somethinglike fifteen hundred miles of unknown country in front of him toexplore, while Burke and Wills had scarcely six. Stuart also conductedsome minor explorations before he undertook his greater one. He andMcKinlay were South Australia's heroes, and are still venerated thereaccordingly. He died in England not long after the completion of hislast expedition. 

We now come to probably the most melancholy episode in the longhistory of Australian exploration, relating to the fate of Burke andWills. The people and Government of the colony of Victoria determinedto despatch an expedition to explore Central Australia, from Sturt'sEyre's Creek to the shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria at the mouth ofthe Albert River of Stokes's, a distance in a straight line of notmore than six hundred miles; and as everything that Victoriaundertakes must always be on the grandest scale, so was this. Onecolonist gave 1000 pounds; 4000 pounds more was subscribed, and thenthe Government took the matter in hand to fit out the VictorianExploring Expedition. Camels were specially imported from India, andeverything was done to ensure success; when I say everything, I meanall but the principal thing--the leader was the wrong man. He knewnothing of bush life or bushmanship, navigation, or any art of travel. Robert O'Hara Burke was brave, no doubt, but so hopelessly ignorant ofwhat he was undertaking, that it would have been the greatest wonderif he had returned alive to civilisation. He was accompanied by ayoung man named Wills as surveyor and observer; he alone kept a diary, and from his own statements therein he was frequently more than ahundred miles out of his reckoning. That, however, did not cause hisor Burke's death; what really did so was bad management. The moneythis expedition cost, variously estimated at from 40, 000 to 60, 000pounds, was almost thrown away, for the map of the route of theexpedition was incorrect and unreliable, and Wills's journal of nogeographical value, except that it showed they had no difficulty withregard to water. The expedition was, however, successful in so farthat Burke crossed Australia from south to north before Stuart, andwas the first traveller who had done so. Burke and Wills both diedupon Cooper's Creek after their return from Carpentaria upon the fieldof their renown. Charles Gray, one of the party, died, or was killed, a day or two before returning thither, and John King, the solesurvivor, was rescued by Alfred Howitt. Burke's and Stuart's lines oftravel, though both pushing from south to north, were separated by adistance of over 400 miles in longitude. These travellers, or heroes Isuppose I ought to call them, were neither explorers nor bushmen, butthey were brave and undaunted, and they died in the cause they hadundertaken. 

When it became certain in Melbourne that some mishap must haveoccurred to these adventurers, Victoria, South Australia, andQueensland each sent out relief parties. South Australia sent JohnMcKinlay, who found Gray's grave, and afterwards made a longexploration to Carpentaria, where, not finding any vessel as heexpected, he had an arduous struggle to reach a Queensland cattlestation near Port Dennison on the eastern coast. Queensland sentLandsborough by sea to Carpentaria, where he was landed and left tolive or die as he might, though of course he had a proper equipment ofhorses, men, and gear. He followed up the Flinders River of Stokes, had a fine country to traverse; got on to the head of the Warrego, andfinally on to the Darling River in New South Wales. He came across notraces whatever of Burke. Victoria sent a relief expedition underWalker, with several Queensland black troopers. Walker, crossing thelower Barcoo, found a tree of Leichhardt's marked L, being the mostwesterly known. Walker arrived at Carpentaria without seeing anytraces of the missing Burke and Wills; but at the mouth of the AlbertRiver met the master of the vessel that had conveyed Landsborough; themaster had seen or heard nothing of Burke. Another expedition fittedout by Victoria, and called the Victorian Contingent ReliefExpedition, was placed under the command of Alfred Howitt in 1861. Atthis time a friend of mine, named Conn, and I were out exploring forpastoral runs, and were in retreat upon the Darling, when we metHowitt going out. When farther north I repeatedly urged my companionto visit the Cooper, from which we were then only eighty or ninetymiles away, in vain. I urged how we might succour some, if not all, ofthe wanderers. Had we done so we should have found and rescued King, and we might have been in time to save Burke and Wills also; but Connwould not agree to go. It is true we were nearly starved as it was, and might have been entirely starved had we gone there, but by goodfortune we met and shot a stray bullock that had wandered from theDarling, and this happy chance saved our lives. I may here remark thatpoor Conn and two other exploring comrades of those days, namedCurlewis and McCulloch, were all subsequently, not only killed butpartly eaten by the wild natives of Australia--Conn in a place nearCooktown on the Queensland coast, and Curlewis and McCulloch on theParoo River in New South Wales in 1862. When we were together we hadmany very narrow escapes from death, and I have had several similarexperiences since those days. Howitt on his arrival at Cooper's Creekwas informed by the natives that a white man was alive with them, andthus John King, the sole survivor, was rescued. 

Between 1860-65 several short expeditions were carried on in WesternAustralia by Frank Gregory, Lefroy, Robinson, and Hunt; while upon theeastern side of Australia, the Brothers Jardine successfully exploredand took a mob of cattle through the region that proved so fatal toKennedy and his companions in 1848. The Jardines traversed a routemore westerly than Kennedy's along the eastern shores of the Gulf ofCarpentaria to Cape York. 

In 1865, Duncan McIntyre, while on the Flinders River of Stokes andnear the Gulf of Carpentaria, into which it flows, was shown by awhite shepherd at an out sheep station, a tree on which the letter Lwas cut. This no doubt was one of Landsborough's marks, or if it wasreally carved by Leichhardt, it was done upon his journey to PortEssington in 1844, when he crossed and encamped upon the Flinders. Mcintyre reported by telegraph to Melbourne that he had found tracesof Leichhardt, whereupon Baron von Mueller and a committee of ladiesin Melbourne raised a fund of nearly 4000 pounds, and an expeditioncalled "The Ladies' Leichhardt Search Expedition, " whose noble objectwas to trace and find some records or mementoes, if not the persons, and discover the last resting-place of the unfortunate traveller andhis companions, was placed under McIntyre's command. About sixtyhorses and sixteen camels were obtained for this attempt. The lesssaid about this splendid but ill-starred effort the better. Indignation is a mild term to apply to our feelings towards the manwho caused the ruin of so generous an undertaking. Everything that itspromoters could do to ensure its success they did, and it deserved abetter fate, for a brilliant issue might have been obtained, if not bythe discovery of the lost explorers, at least by a geographicalresult, as the whole of the western half of Australia lay unexploredbefore it. The work, trouble, anxiety, and expense that Baron vonMueller went through to start this expedition none but the initiatedcan ever know. It was ruined before it even entered the field of itslabours, for, like Burke's and Wills's expedition, it wasunfortunately placed under the command of the wrong man. The collapseof the expedition occurred in this wise. A certain doctor wasappointed surgeon and second in command, the party consisting of aboutten men, including two Afghans with the camels, and one young blackboy. Their encampment was now at a water-hole in the Paroo, whereCurlewis and McCulloch had been killed, in New South Wales. Theprevious year McIntyre had visited a water-hole in the Cooper someseventy-four or seventy-five miles from his camp on the Paroo, and nowordered the whole of his heavily-laden beasts and all the men to startfor the distant spot. The few appliances they had for carrying watersoon became emptied. About the middle of the third day, upon arrivalat the wished-for relief, to their horror and surprise they found thewater-hole was dry--by no means an unusual thing in Australian travel. The horses were already nearly dead; McIntyre, without attempting tosearch either up or down the channel of the watercourse, immediatelyordered a retreat to the last water in the Paroo. After proceeding afew miles he left the horses and white men, seven in number, and wenton ahead with the camels, the Afghans and the black boy, saying hewould return with water for the others as soon as he could. Hisbrother was one of the party left behind. Almost as soon as McIntyre'sback was turned, the doctor said to the men something to the effectthat they were abandoned to die of thirst, there not being a drop ofwater remaining, and that he knew in which packs the medical brandywas stowed, certain bags being marked to indicate them. He then added, "Boys, we must help ourselves! the Leichhardt Search Expedition is afailure; follow me, and I'll get you something to drink. " Taking aknife, he ripped open the marked bags while still on the chokinghorses' backs, and extracted the only six bottles there were. Onewhite man named Barnes, to whom all honour, refused to touch thebrandy, the others poured the boiling alcohol down their parched andburning throats, and a wild scene of frenzy, as described by Barnes, ensued. In the meanwhile the unfortunate packhorses wandered away, loaded as they were, and died in thirst and agony, weighed down bytheir unremoved packs, none of which were ever recovered. Thus all thefood supply and nearly all the carrying power of the expedition waslost; the only wonder was that none of these wretches actually died atthe spot, although I heard some of them died soon after. The return ofMcIntyre and the camels loaded with water saved their lives at thetime; but what was his chagrin and surprise to find the party justwhere he had left them, nearly dead, most of them delirious, with allthe horses gone, when he had expected to meet them so much nearer theParoo. In consequence of the state these men or animals were in, theyhad to be carried on the camels, and it was impossible to go in searchof the horses; thus all was lost. This event crushed the expedition. Mcintyre obtained a few more horses, pushed across to the Flindersagain, became attacked with fever, and died. Thus the "Ladies'Leichhardt Search Expedition" entirely fell through. The camels weresubsequently claimed by McIntyre's brother for the cost of grazingthem, he having been carried by them to Carpentaria, where he selectedan excellent pastoral property, became rich, and died. It was the samedoctor that got into trouble with the Queensland Government concerningthe kidnapping of some islanders in the South Seas, and narrowlyescaped severe, if not capital punishment. 

In 1866, Mr. Cowle conducted an expedition from Roebourne, near NicolBay, on the West Coast, for four or five hundred miles to the FitzroyRiver, discovered by Wickham, at the bottom of King's Sound. 

In 1869, a report having spread in Western Australia of the massacreof some white people by the natives somewhere to the eastwards ofChampion Bay, on the west coast, the rumour was supposed to relate toLeichhardt and his party; and upon the representations of Baron vonMueller to the West Australian Government, a young surveyor named JohnForrest was despatched to investigate the truth of the story. Thisexpedition penetrated some distance to the eastwards, but coulddiscover no traces of the lost, or indeed anything appertaining to anytravellers whatever. 

In 1869-70, John Forrest, accompanied by his brother Alexander, wasagain equipped by the West Australian Government for an explorationeastwards, with the object of endeavouring to reach the SouthAustralian settlements by a new route inland. Forrest, however, followed Eyre's track of 1840-1, along the shores of the GreatAustralian Bight, and may be said to have made no exploration at all, as he did not on any occasion penetrate inland more than about thirtymiles from the coast. At an old encampment Forrest found the skull ofone of Eyre's horses, which had been lying there for thirty years. This trophy he brought with him to Adelaide. 

The following year, Alexander Forrest conducted an expedition to theeastwards, from the West Australian settlements; but only succeeded inpushing a few miles beyond Hunt and Lefroy's furthest point in 1864. 

What I have written above is an outline of the history of discoveryand exploration in Australia when I first took the field in the year1872; and though it may not perhaps be called, as Tennyson says, oneof the fairy tales of science, still it is certainly one of the longresults of time. I have conducted five public expeditions and severalprivate ones. The latter will not be recorded in these volumes, notbecause there were no incidents of interest, but because they wereconducted, in connection with other persons, for entirely pastoralobjects. Experiences of hunger, thirst, and attacks by hostile nativesduring those undertakings relieved them of any monotony they mightotherwise display. It is, however, to my public expeditions that Ishall now confine my narrative. 

The wild charm and exciting desire that induce an individual toundertake the arduous tasks that lie before an explorer, and thepleasure and delight of visiting new and totally unknown places, areonly whetted by his first attempt, especially when he is constrainedto admit that his first attempt had not resulted in his carrying outits objects. 

My first and second expeditions were conducted entirely with horses;in all my after journeys I had the services of camels, those wonderfulships of the desert, without whose aid the travels and adventureswhich are subsequently recorded could not possibly have been achieved, nor should I now be alive, as Byron says, to write so poor a tale, this lowly lay of mine. In my first and second expeditions, the objectI had in view was to push across the continent, from differentstarting points, upon the South Australian Transcontinental TelegraphLine, to the settled districts of Western Australia. My firstexpedition was fitted out entirely by Baron von Mueller, mybrother-in-law, Mr. G. D. Gill, and myself. I was joined in thisenterprise by a young gentleman, named Samuel Carmichael, whom I metin Melbourne, and who also contributed his share towards theundertaking. The furthest point reached on this journey was about 300miles from my starting point. On my return, upon reaching theCharlotte Waters Telegraph Station, in latitude 25 degrees 55' andlongitude 135 degrees I met Colonel Warburton and his son, whom I hadknown before. These gentlemen informed me, to my great astonishment, they were about to undertake an exploring expedition to WesternAustralia, for two well-known capitalists of South Australia, namelythe Honourable Sir Thomas Elder and Captain Hughes. I was alsoinformed that a South Australian Government expedition, for the samepurpose, was just in advance of them, under the command of Mr. WilliamC. Gosse. This information took me greatly by surprise, though perhapsan explorer should not admit such a feeling. I had just returned froman attempt of the same kind, beaten and disappointed. I felt if ever Itook the field again, against two such formidable rivals as were nowabout to attempt what I had failed in, both being supplied with camelsby Sir Thomas Elder, my chances of competing with them would be smallindeed, as I could only command horses, and was not then known to SirThomas Elder, the only gentleman in Australia who possessed camels. 

The fact of two expeditions starting away simultaneously, almost assoon as I had turned my back upon civilisation, showed me at once thatmy attempt, I being regarded as a Victorian, had roused the people andGovernment of South Australia to the importance of the question whichI was the first to endeavour to solve--namely, the exploration of theunknown interior, and the possibility of discovering an overland routefor stock through Central Australia, to the settlements upon thewestern coast. This, I may remark, had been the dream of allAustralian explorers from the time of Eyre and Leichhardt down to myown time. It also showed that South Australia had no desire to bebeaten again (Burke and Stuart. ), and in her own territories, by"worthless Melbourne's pulling child;" (hence the two new expeditionsarose). Immediately upon my return being made known by telegram to myfriend Baron von Mueller, he set to work, and with unwearied exertionsoon obtained a new fund from several wealthy gentlemen in the rivalcolony of Victoria. In consideration of the information I had affordedby my late effort, the Government of South Australia supplemented thisfund by the munificent subsidy of 250 pounds, provided I EXPENDED themoney in fresh explorations, and supplied to the Government, at thetermination of my journey, a copy of the map and journal of myexpedition. My poverty, and not my will, consented to accept so mean agift. As a new, though limited fund was now placed at my disposal, Ihad no inclination to decline a fresh attempt, and thus my secondexpedition was undertaken; and such despatch was used by Baron Muellerand myself, that I was again in the field, with horses only, not manyweeks later than my rivals. 

On this journey I was accompanied and seconded by Mr. William HenryTietkens. We had both been scholars at Christ's Hospital in London, though many years apart. Of the toils and adventures of my secondexpedition the readers of my book must form their own opinion; andalthough I was again unsuccessful in carrying out my object, and theexpedition ended in the death of one member, and in misfortune andstarvation to the others, still I have been told by a few partialfriends that it was really a splendid failure. On that expedition Iexplored a line of nearly 700 miles of previously unknown country, ina straight line from my starting point. 

During my first and second expeditions I had been fortunate in thediscovery of large areas of mountain country, permanently watered andbeautifully grassed, and, as spaces of enormous extent still remainedto be explored, I decided to continue in the field, provided I couldsecure the use of camels. These volumes will contain the narratives ofmy public explorations. In the preface to this work I have given anoutline of the physical and colonial divisions of Australia, so thatmy reader may eventually follow me, albeit in imagination only, to thestarting points of my journeys, and into the field of my labours also. 

PREFACE. 

The Island Continent of Australia contains an area of about threemillions of square miles, it being, so to say, an elliptically-shapedmass about 2500 miles in length from east to west, and 2000 from northto south. The degrees of latitude and longitude it occupies will beshown by the map accompanying these volumes. 

The continent is divided into five separate colonies, whose respectivecapitals are situated several hundreds of miles apart. The oldestcolony is New South Wales. The largest in area is Western Australia, next comes South Australia; then Queensland, New South Wales, andlastly Victoria, which, though the smallest in area, is now the firstin importance among the group. It was no wonder that Mitchell, theSurveyor-General of New South Wales, designated that region "AustraliaFelix. "

It may be strange, but it is no less true, that there is almost asgreat a difference between the fiscal laws and governments of thevarious Australian Colonies as between those of foreign States inEurope--the only thing in common being the language and the money ofthe British Empire. Although however, they agree to differ amongstthemselves, there can be no doubt of the loyalty of the group, as awhole, to their parent nation. I shall go no further into this matter, as, although English enough, it is foreign to my subject. I shalltreat more especially of the colony or colonies within whoseboundaries my travels led me, and shall begin with South Australia, where my first expedition was conducted. 

South Australia includes a vast extent of country called the NorthernTerritory, which must become in time a separate colony, as it extendsfrom the 26th parallel of latitude, embracing the whole countrynorthwards to the Indian Ocean at the 11th parallel. South Australiapossesses one advantage over the other colonies, from the geographicalfact of her oblong territory extending, so to speak, exactly in themiddle right across the continent from the Southern to the IndianOcean. The dimensions of the colony are in extreme length over 1800miles, by a breadth of nearly 700, and almost through the centre ofthis vast region the South Australian Transcontinental Telegraph lineruns from Adelaide, via Port Augusta, to Port Darwin. 

At the time I undertook my first expedition in 1872, this extensivework had just been completed, and it may be said to divide thecontinent into halves, which, for the purpose I then had in view, might be termed the explored and the unexplored halves. For severalyears previous to my taking the field, I had desired to be the firstto penetrate into this unknown region, where, for a thousand miles ina straight line, no white man's foot had ever wandered, or, if it had, its owner had never brought it back, nor told the tale. I had everbeen a delighted student of the narratives of voyages and discoveries, from Robinson Crusoe to Anson and Cook, and the exploits on land inthe brilliant accounts given by Sturt, Mitchell, Eyre, Grey, Leichhardt, and Kennedy, constantly excited my imagination, as my owntravels may do that of future rovers, and continually spurred me on toemulate them in the pursuit they had so eminently graced. 

My object, as indeed had been Leichhardt's, was to force my way acrossthe thousand miles that lay untrodden and unknown, between the SouthAustralian telegraph line and the settlements upon the Swan River. What hopes I formed, what aspirations came of what might be myfortune, for I trust it will be believed that an explorer may be animaginative as well as a practical creature, to discover in thatunknown space. Here let me remark that the exploration of 1000 milesin Australia is equal to 10, 000 in any other part of the earth'ssurface, always excepting Arctic and Antarctic travels. 

There was room for snowy mountains, an inland sea, ancient river, andpalmy plain, for races of new kinds of men inhabiting a new andodorous land, for fields of gold and golcondas of gems, for a newflora and a new fauna, and, above all the rest combined, there wasroom for me! Many well-meaning friends tried to dissuade mealtogether, and endeavoured to instil into my mind that what I soardently wished to attempt was simply deliberate suicide, and topersuade me of the truth of the poetic line, that the sad eye ofexperience sees beneath youth's radiant glow, so that, like Falstaff, I was only partly consoled by the remark that they hate us youth. Butin spite of their experience, and probably on account of youth'sradiant glow, I was not to be deterred, however, and at last I metwith Baron von Mueller, who, himself an explorer with the twoGregorys, has always had the cause of Australian exploration at heart, and he assisting, I was at length enabled to take the field. BaronMueller and I had consulted, and it was deemed advisable that I shouldmake a peculiar feature near the Finke river, called Chambers' Pillar, my point of departure for the west. This Pillar is situated inlatitude 24 degrees 55' and longitude 133 degrees 50', being 1200miles from Melbourne in a straight line, over which distance Mr. Carmichael, a black boy, and I travelled. In the course of our travelsfrom Melbourne to the starting point, we reached Port Augusta, aseaport though an inland town, at the head of Spencer's Gulf in SouthAustralia, first visited by the Investigator in 1803, and where, a fewmiles to the eastwards, a fine bold range of mountains runs along forscores of miles and bears the gallant navigator's name. A railway lineof 250 miles now connects Port Augusta with Adelaide. To this town wasthe first section of the Transcontinental telegraph line carried; andit was in those days the last place where I could get stores for myexpedition. Various telegraph stations are erected along the line, theaverage distance between each being from 150 to 200 miles. There wereeleven stations between Port Augusta and Port Darwin. A railway is nowcompleted as far as the Peake Telegraph Station, about 450 milesnorth-westwards from Port Augusta along the telegraph line towardsPort Darwin, to which it will no doubt be carried before many yearselapse. 

From Port Augusta the Flinders range runs almost northerly for nearly200 miles, throwing out numerous creeks (I must here remark thatthroughout this work the word creek will often occur. This is not tobe considered in its English acceptation of an inlet from the sea, but, no matter how far inland, it means, in Australia a watercourse. ), through rocky pine-clad glens and gorges, these all emptying, in timesof flood, into the salt lake Torrens, that peculiar depression whichbaffled Eyre in 1840-1. Captain Frome, the Surveyor-General of theColony, dispelled the old horse-shoe-shaped illusion of this feature, and discovered that there were several similar features instead ofone. As far as the Flinders range extends northwards, the water supplyof the traveller in that region is obtained from its watercourses. Thecountry beyond, where this long range falls off, continues anextensive open stony plateau or plain, occasionally intersected withwatercourses, the course of the line of road being west of north. Mostof these watercourses on the plains fall into Lake Eyre, another andmore northerly salt depression. A curious limestone formation nowoccurs, and for some hundreds of miles the whole country is open andstudded with what are called mound-springs. These are usually aboutfifty feet high, and ornamented on the summit with clumps of tallreeds or bulrushes. These mounds are natural artesian wells, throughwhich the water, forced up from below, gushes out over the tops to thelevel ground, where it forms little water-channels at which sheep andcattle can water. Some of these mounds have miniature lakes on theirsummits, where people might bathe. The most perfect mound is calledthe Blanche Cup, in latitude about 29 degrees 20', and longitude 136degrees 40'. 

The water of some of these springs is fresh and good, the Blanche Cupis drinkable, but the generality of them have either a mineral salt-or soda-ish taste; at first their effect is aperient, but afterwardsjust the opposite. The water is good enough for animals. 

The Honourable Sir Thomas Elder's sheep, cattle, horse, and camelstation, Beltana, is the first telegraph station from Port Augusta, the distance being 150 miles. The next is at the Strangways Springs, about 200 miles distant. This station occupies a nearly centralposition in this region of mound-springs; it is situated on a low riseout of the surrounding plain; all around are dozens of these peculiarmounds. The Messrs. Hogarth and Warren, who own the sheep and cattlestation, have springs with a sufficiently strong flow of water tospout their wool at shearing time. The next telegraph station beyondthe Strangways is the Peake, distant 100 miles. About twenty milesnorthward, or rather north-westward, from the Peake the mound-springscease, and the country is watered by large pools in stony watercoursesand creek beds. These pools are generally no more than twelve tofifteen miles apart. The waters in times of flood run into Lake Eyre, which receives the Cooper and all the flood waters of West andSouth-western Queensland, and all the drainage from the hundredwatercourses of Central South Australia. The chief among the latter isthe huge artery, the Finke, from the north-west. 

The Charlotte Waters Station, named after Lady Charlotte Bacon, theIanthe of Byron, which was to be my last outpost of civilisation, is aquadrangular stone building, plastered or painted white, having acorrugated iron roof, and a courtyard enclosed by the two wings of thebuilding, having loop-holes in the walls for rifles and musketry, acemented water-tank dug under the yard, and tall heavy iron gates tosecure the place from attack by the natives. 

I may here relate an occurrence at a station farther up the line, built upon the same principle. One evening, while the telegraph masterand staff were sitting outside the gates after the heat of the day, the natives, knowing that the stand of arms was inside the courtyard, sent some of their warriers to creep unseen inside and slam the gates, so as to prevent retreat. Then from the outside an attempt to massacrewas made; several whites were speared, some were killed on the spot, others died soon afterwards, but the greatest wonder was that any atall escaped. 

The establishment at the Charlotte Waters stands on a large grassy andpebbly plain, bounded on the north by a watercourse half a mile away. The natives here have always been peaceful, and never displayed anyhostility to the whites. From this last station I made my way toChambers' Pillar, which was to be my actual starting-point for thewest. 

BOOK 1. 

CHAPTER 1. 1. FROM 4TH TO 30TH AUGUST, 1872. 

The party. Port Augusta. The road. The Peake. Stony plateau. Telegraph station. Natives formerly hostile. A new member. Leave the Peake. Black boy deserts. Reach the Charlotte Waters Station. Natives' account of other natives. Leave last outpost. Reach the Finke. A Government party. A ride westward. End of the stony plateau. A sandhill region. Chambers' Pillar. The Moloch horridus. Thermometer 18 degrees. The Finke. Johnstone's range. A night alarm. Beautiful trees. Wild ducks. A tributary. High dark hill. Country rises in altitude. Very high sandhills. Quicksands. New ranges. A brush ford. New pigeon. Pointed hill. A clay pan. Christopher's Pinnacle. Chandler's Range. Another new range. Sounds of running water. First natives seen. Name of the river. A Central Australian warrior. Natives burning the country. Name a new creek. Ascend a mountain. Vivid green. Discover a glen and more mountains. Hot winds, smoke and ashes. 

The personnel of my first expedition into the interior consisted inthe first instance of myself, Mr. Carmichael, and a young black boy. Iintended to engage the services of another white man at the furthestoutpost that I could secure one. From Port Augusta I despatched thebulk of my stores by a team to the Peake, and made a leisurelyprogress up the overland road via Beltana, the Finniss and StrangwaysSprings stations. Our stores reached the Peake station before us. Thisstation was originally called Mount Margaret, but subsequently removedto the mound-springs near the south bank of the Peake Creek; it was acattle station formed by Mr. Phillip Levi of Adelaide. The characterof the country is an open stony plateau, upon which lines of hills orranges rise; it is intersected by numerous watercourses, all trendingto Lake Eyre, and was an excellent cattle run. The South AustralianGovernment erected the telegraph station in the immediate vicinity ofthe cattle station. When the cattle station was first formed in 1862the natives were very numerous and very hostile, but at the time of myvisit, ten years later, they were comparatively civilised. At thePeake we were enabled to re-shoe all our horses, for the stony road upfrom Port Augusta had worn out all that were put on there. I also hadan extra set fitted for each horse, rolled up in calico, and markedwith its name. At the Peake I engaged a young man named Alec Robinson, who, according to his account, could do everything, and had beeneverywhere, who knew the country I was about to explore perfectlywell, and who had frequently met and camped with blacks from the westcoast, and declared we could easily go over there in a few weeks. Hedied at one of the telegraph stations a year or two after he left me. I must say he was very good at cooking, and shoeing horses. I am ableto do these useful works myself, but I do not relish either. I hadbrought a light little spring cart with me all the way from Melbourneto the Peake, which I sold here, and my means of transit from thencewas with pack-horses. After a rather prolonged sojourn at the Peake, where I received great hospitality from Mr. Blood, of the TelegraphDepartment, and from Messrs. Bagot, the owners, and Mr. Conway, themanager, we departed for the Charlotte. 

My little black boy Dick, or, as he used generally to write, and callhimself, Richard Giles Kew, 1872, had been at school at Kew, nearMelbourne. He came to me from Queensland; he had visited Adelaide, Melbourne, and Sydney, and had been with me for nearly three years, but his fears of wild natives were terribly excited by what nearlyeverybody we met said to him about them. This was not surprising, asit was usually something to this effect, in bush parlance: "By G--, young feller, just you look out when you get OUTSIDE! the wild blackswill [adjective] soon cook you. They'll kill YOU first, you know--theyWILL like to cut out your kidney fat! They'll sneak on yer when yergoes out after the horses, they'll have yer and eat yer. " This beingthe burden of the strain continually dinned into the boy's ears, madehim so terrified and nervous the farther we got away fromcivilisation, that soon after leaving the Peake, as we were campingone night with some bullock teams returning south, the same storieshaving been told him over again, he at last made up his mind, and toldme he wanted to go back with one of the teamsters; he had hinted aboutthis before, and both Carmichael and Robinson seemed to be aware ofhis intention. Force was useless to detain him; argument was lost onhim, and entreaty I did not attempt, so in the morning we parted. Ishall mention him again by-and-bye. He was a small, very handsome, light-complexioned, very intelligent, but childish boy, and wasfrequently mistaken for a half-caste; he was a splendid rider andtracker, and knew almost everything. He was a great wit, as one remarkof his will show. In travelling up the country after he had been atschool, we once saw some old deserted native gunyahs, and he said tome as we rode by, pointing to them, "Gentleman's 'ouse, villaresidence, I s'pose, he's gone to his watering place for the seasonp'r'aps. " At another time, being at a place called Crowlands, he askedme why it was called so. I replied pointing to a crow on a tree, "Why, there's the crow, " and stamping with my foot on the ground, "there'sthe land;" he immediately said, "Oh, now I know why my country iscalled Queensland, because it's land belonging to our Queen. " I said, "Certainly it is;" then he said, "Well, ain't it funny? I never knewthat before. " In Melbourne, one day, we were leaning out of a windowoverlooking the people continually passing by. Dick said, "Whatfor, --white fellow always walk about--walk about in town--when healways rides in the bush?" I said, "Oh, to do their business. ""Business, " he asked, "what's that?" I said, "Why, to get money, to besure. " "Money, " he said; "white fellow can't pick up money in thestreet. "

From the Peake we had only pack-horses and one little Scotch terrierdog. Dick left us at Hann's Creek, thirty miles from the Peake. On ourroad up, about halfway between the Peake and the Charlotte, we crossedand camped at a large creek which runs into the Finke, called theAlberga. Here we met a few natives, who were friendly enough, but whowere known to be great thieves, having stolen things from severalbullock drays, and committed other robberies; so we had to keep asharp look out upon them and their actions. One of their number, ayoung man, could speak English pretty well, and could actually singsome songs. His most successful effort in that line was the song of"Jim Crow, " and he performed the "turn about and wheel about and dojust so" part of it until he got giddy, or pretended to be; and to getrid of him and his brethren, we gave them some flour and a smoke oftobacco, and they departed. 

We arrived at the Charlotte Waters station on the 4th of August, 1872;this was actually my last outpost of civilisation. My companion, Mr. Carmichael, and I were most kindly welcomed by Mr. Johnstone, theofficer in charge of this depot, and by Mr. Chandler, a gentlemanbelonging to a telegraph station farther up the line. In consequenceof their kindness, our stay was lengthened to a week. My horses wereall the better for the short respite, for they were by no means ingood fettle; but the country having been visited by rains, grass wasabundant, and the animals improving. The party consisted only ofmyself, Carmichael, and Robinson; I could not now obtain another manto make up our original number of four. We still had the little dog. During our stay at the Charlotte I inquired of a number of the nativesfor information concerning the region beyond, to the west andnorth-west. They often used the words "Larapinta and plenty blackfellow. " Of the country to the west they seemed to know more, but itwas very difficult to get positive statements. The gist of theirinformation was that there were large waters, high mountains, andplenty, plenty, wild black fellow; they said the wild blacks were verybig and fat, and had hair growing, as some said, all down their backs;while others asserted that the hair grew all over their bodies, andthat they eat pickaninnies, and sometimes came eastward and killed anyof the members of the Charlotte tribe that they could find, andcarried off all the women they could catch. On the 12th we departed, and my intended starting point being Chambers' Pillar, upon the FinkeRiver, I proceeded up the telegraph road as far as the crossing placeof the above-named watercourse, which was sixty miles by the road. 

(ILLUSTRATION: CHAMBERS' PILLAR. )

In the evening of the day we encamped there, a Government party, underthe charge of Mr. McMinn, surveyor, and accompanied by Mr. HarleyBacon, a son of Lady Charlotte Bacon, arrived from the north, and wehad their company at the camp. Close to this crossing-place a largetributary joins the Finke near the foot of Mount Humphries. On thefollowing day Mr. McMinn, Mr. Bacon, and I rode up its channel, and atabout twelve miles we found a water-hole and returned. The countryconsisted chiefly of open sandhills well grassed. I mentionedpreviously that from Port Augusta, northwards and north-westwards, thewhole region consists of an open stony plateau, upon which mountainranges stand at various distances; through and from these, a number ofwatercourses run, and, on a section of this plateau, nearly 200 milesin extent, the curious mound-springs exist. This formation, mostly oflimestone, ceases at, or immediately before reaching, the Finke, andthen a formation of heavy red sandhills begins. Next day our friendsdeparted for the Charlotte, after making me several presents. From Mr. McMinn I obtained the course and distance of the pillar from our camp, and travelling on the course given, we crossed the Finke three times, as it wound about so snake-like across the country. On the 22nd weencamped upon it, having the pillar in full view. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE Moloch horridus. )

The appearance of this feature I should imagine to be unique. For adetailed account of it my reader must consult Stuart's report. Approaching the pillar from the south, the traveller must pass over aseries of red sandhills, covered with some scrubs, and clothed nearthe ground with that abominable vegetable production, the so-calledspinifex or porcupine grass--botanically, the Triodia, or Festucairritans. The timber on the sandhills near the pillar is nearly allmulga, a very hard acacia, though a few tall and well-growncasuarinas--of a kind that is new to me, namely the C. Decaisneana--are occasionally met. (These trees have almost apalm-like appearance, and look like huge mops; but they grow in thedriest regions. ) On our route Mr. Carmichael brought to me a mostpeculiar little lizard, a true native of the soil; its colour was ayellowish-green; it was armed, or ornamented, at points and joints, with spines, in a row along its back, sides, and legs; these werecurved, and almost sharp; on the back of its neck was a thick knottylump, with a spine at each side, by which I lifted it; its tail wasarmed with spines to the point, and was of proportional length to itsbody. The lizard was about eight inches in length. Naturalists havechristened this harmless little chameleon the Moloch horridus. I putthe little creature in a pouch, and intended to preserve it, but itmanaged to crawl out of its receptacle, and dropped again to itsnative sand. I had one of these lizards, as a pet, for months inMelbourne. It was finally trodden on and died. It used to eat sugar. 

By this time we were close to the pillar: its outline was mostimposing. Upon reaching it, I found it to be a columnar structure, standing upon a pedestal, which is perhaps eighty feet high, andcomposed of loose white sandstone, having vast numbers of large blockslying about in all directions. From the centre of the pedestal risesthe pillar, composed also of the same kind of rock; at its top, andfor twenty to thirty feet from its summit, the colour of the stone isred. The column itself must be seventy or eighty feet above thepedestal. It is split at the top into two points. There it stands, avast monument of the geological periods that must have elapsed sincethe mountain ridge, of which it was formerly a part, was washed by theaction of old Ocean's waves into mere sandhills at its feet. The stoneis so friable that names can be cut in it to almost any depth with apocket-knife: so loose, indeed, is it, that one almost feels alarmedlest it should fall while he is scratching at its base. In a smallorifice or chamber of the pillar I discovered an opossum asleep, thefirst I had seen in this part of the country. We turned our backs uponthis peculiar monument, and left it in its loneliness and itsgrandeur--"clothed in white sandstone, mystic, wonderful!"

From hence we travelled nearly west, and in seventeen miles came tosome very high sandhills, at whose feet the river swept. We followedround them to a convenient spot, and one where our horses could waterwithout bogging. The bed of the Finke is the most boggy creek-channelI have ever met. As we had travelled several miles in the morning tothe pillar, and camped eighteen beyond it, it was late in theafternoon when we encamped. The country we passed over was mostlyscrubby sandhills, covered with porcupine grass. Where we struck thechannel there was a long hole of brine. There was plenty of good grasson the river flat; and we got some tolerably good water where we fixedour camp. When we had finished our evening meal, the shades of nightdescended upon us, in this our first bivouac in the unknown interior. By observations of the bright stars Vega and Altair, I found mylatitude was 24 degrees 52' 15"; the night was excessively cold, andby daylight next morning the thermometer had fallen to 18 degrees. Ourblankets and packs were covered with a thick coating of ice; and tealeft in our pannikins overnight had become solid cakes. 

The country here being soft and sandy, we unshod all the horses andcarried the shoes. So far as I could discern with the glasses, theriver channel came from the west, but I decided to go north-west, as Iwas sure it would turn more northerly in time; and I dreaded beingcaught in a long bend, and having to turn back many miles, or chancethe loss of some or all the horses in a boggy crossing. To the south aline of hills appeared, where the natives were burning the spinifex inall directions. These hills had the appearance of red sandstone; andthey had a series of ancient ocean watermarks along their northernface, traceable for miles. This I called Johnstone's Range. As anothernight approached, we could see, to the north, the brilliant flames oflarge grass fires, which had only recently been started by someprowling sons of the soil, upon their becoming aware of our presencein their domain. The nights now were usually very cold. One night somewild man or beast must have been prowling around our camp, for mylittle dog Monkey exhibited signs of great perturbation for severalhours. We kept awake, listening for some sounds that might give us anidea of the intruders; and being sure that we heard the tones of humanvoices, we got our rifles in readiness. The little dog barked stillmore furiously, but the sounds departed: we heard them no more: andthe rest of the night passed in silence--in silence and beautifulrest. 

We had not yet even sighted the Finke, upon my north-west course; butI determined to continue, and was rewarded by coming suddenly upon itunder the foot of high sandhills. Its course now was a good deal tothe north. The horses being heavily packed, and the spinifexdistressing them so much, we found a convenient spot where the animalscould water without bogging, and camped. Hard by, were some clumps ofthe fine-looking casuarinas; they grow to a height of twenty totwenty-five feet of barrel without a branch, and then spread out to afine umbrella top; they flourish out of pure red sand. The large sheetof water at the camp had wild ducks on it: some of these we shot. Theday was very agreeable, with cool breezes from the north-west. Atributary joins the Finke here from the west, and a high dark hillforms its southern embankment: the western horizon is bounded bybroken lines of hills, of no great elevation. As we ascend the river, the country gradually rises, and we are here about 250 feet above thelevel of the Charlotte Waters Station. 

Finding the river now trended not only northerly, but even east ofnorth, we had to go in that direction, passing over some very highsandhills, where we met the Finke at almost right angles. Although thecountry was quite open, it was impossible to see the river channel, even though fringed with rows of splendid gum-trees, for any distance, as it became hidden by the high sandhills. I was very reluctant tocross, on account of the frightfully boggy bed of the creek, but, rather than travel several miles roundabout, I decided to try it. Wegot over, certainly, but to see one's horses and loads sinking bodilyin a mass of quaking quicksand is by no means an agreeable sight, andit was only by urging the animals on with stock-whips, to prevent themdelaying, that we accomplished the crossing without loss. Our ridinghorses got the worst of it, as the bed was so fearfully ploughed up bythe pack-horses ahead of them. The whole bed of this peculiar creekappears to be a quicksand, and when I say it was nearly a quarter of amile wide, its formidable nature will be understood. Here a stream ofslightly brackish water was trickling down the bed in a much narrowerchannel, however, than its whole width; and where the water appearsupon the surface, there the bog is most to be apprehended. Sometimesit runs under one bank, sometimes under the opposite, and again, atother places the water occupies the mid-channel. A horse may walk uponapparently firm sand towards the stream, when, without a second'swarning, horse and rider may be engulfed in quicksand; but in otherplaces, where it is firmer, it will quake for yards all round, andthus give some slight warning. 

Crossing safely, and now having the river on my right hand, wecontinued our journey, sighting a continuous range of hills to thenorth, which ran east and west, and with the glasses I could see theriver trending towards them. I changed my course for a conspicuoushill in this new line, which brought me to the river again at rightangles; and, having so successfully crossed in the morning, I decidedto try it again. We descended to the bank, and after great troublefound a spot firm enough and large enough to allow all the horses tostand upon it at one time, but we could not find a place where theycould climb the opposite bank, for under it was a long reach of water, and a quagmire extending for more than a mile on either side. Two ofour riding-horses were badly bogged in trying to find a get-away:finally, we had to cut boughs and sticks, and bridge the place overwith them. Thus we eventually got the horses over one by one withoutaccident or loss. In four miles we touched on a bend of the riveragain, but had no occasion to recross, as it was not in our road. Thisday, having wasted so much time in the crossings, we travelled onlyfifteen miles. The horizon from this camp was bounded from south-west, and west, round by north, to north-west, by ranges; which I was notsorry to perceive. Those to the west, and south-west, were the highestand most pointed. It appears that the Finke must come under or throughsome of those to the north-west. To-day I observed a most beautifulpigeon, quite new to me; it was of a dark-brown colour, mottled underthe throat and on the breast; it had also a high top-knot. It isconsiderably smaller than the Sturt pigeon of his Central Australianexpedition. 

It was now the 28th of August, and the temperature of the atmospherewas getting warmer. Journeying now again about north-west, we reacheda peculiar pointed hill with the Finke at its foot. We passed over theusual red sandhill country covered with the porcupine grass, characteristic of the Finke country, and saw a shallow sheet of yellowrain water in a large clay pan, which is quite an unusual feature inthis part of the world, clay being so conspicuous by its absence. Thehill, when we reached it, assumed the appearance of a high pinnacle;broken fragments of rock upon its sides and summit showed it too roughand precipitous to climb with any degree of pleasure. I named itChristopher's Pinnacle, after a namesake of mine. The range behind itI named Chandler's Range. For some miles we had seen very littleporcupine grass, but here we came into it again, to the manifestdisgust of our horses. We had now a line of hills on our right, withthe river on our left hand, and in six or seven miles came to the westend of Chandler's Range, and could see to the north and north-westanother, and much higher the line running parallel to Chandler'sRange, but extending to the west as far as I could see. The countryhereabouts has been nearly all burnt by the natives, and the horsesendeavour to pick roads where the dreaded triodia has been destroyed. 

We passed a few clumps of casuarinas and a few stunted trees withbroad, poplar-like leaves. Travelling for twelve miles on thisbearing, we struck the Finke again, running nearly north and south. Here the river had a stony bed with a fine reach of water in it; soto-night at least our anxiety as regards the horses bogging is at anend. The stream purling over its stony floor produces a most agreeablesound, such as I have not heard for many a day. Here I might say, "Brightly the brook through the green leaflets, giddy with joyousness, dances along. "

Soon after we had unpacked and let go our horses, we were accosted bya native on the opposite side of the creek. Our little dog becamefurious; then two natives appeared. We made an attempt at a longconversation, but signally failed, for neither of us knew many of thewords the other was saying. The only bit of information I obtainedfrom them was their name for the river--as they kept continuallypointing to it and repeating the word Larapinta. This word, among thePeake and Charlotte natives, means a snake, and from the continualserpentine windings of this peculiar and only Central Australianriver, no doubt the name is derived. I shot a hawk for them, and theydeparted. The weather to-day was fine, with agreeable cool breezes;the sky has become rather overcast; the flies are very numerous andtroublesome; and it seems probable we may have a slight fall of rainbefore long. 

A few drops of rain fell during the night, which made me regret that Ihad not our tarpaulins erected, though no more fell. In the morningthere was sultriness in the air though the sky was clear; thethermometer stood at 52 degrees, and at sunrise a smoky haze pervadedthe whole sky. Whilst we were packing up the horses this morning, thesame two natives whom we saw last night, again made their appearance, bringing with them a third, who was painted, feathered, greased, andred-ochred, in, as they doubtless thought, the most alarming manner. Ihad just mounted my horse, and rode towards them, thinking to get somemore information from the warrior as to the course of the creek, etc. , but when they saw the horse approaching they scampered off, and thebedizened warrior projected himself into the friendly branches of thenearest tree with the most astonishing velocity. Perceiving that itwas useless to try to approach them, without actually running them toearth, we left them; and crossing the river easily over its stony bed, we continued north-west towards a mountain in the ranges thattraversed the horizon in that direction. The river appeared to comefrom the same spot. A breeze from the north-west caused the dustraised by the pack-horses, which we drove in a mob before us, travelling upon the loose soil where the spinifex had all been latelyburnt, to blow directly in our faces. At five miles we struck on abend of a river, and we saw great volumes of smoke from burning grassand triodia rising in all directions. The natives find it easier tocatch game when the ground is bare, or covered only with a shortvegetation, than when it is clothed with thick coarse grasses orpungent shrubs. A tributary from the north, or east of north, joinedthe Finke on this course, but it was destitute of water at thejunction. Soon now the river swept round to the westward, along thefoot of the hills we were approaching. Here a tributary from the westjoined, having a slender stream of water running along its bed. It wasexceedingly boggy, and we had to pass up along it for over two milesbefore we could find a place to cross to enable us to reach the mainstream, now to the north of us. I called this McMinn's Creek. 

On reaching the Finke we encamped. In the evening I ascended amountain to the north-westward of us. It was very rough, stony, andprecipitous, and composed of red sandstone; its summit was some 800feet above our camp. It had little other vegetation upon it than hugeplots of triodia, of the most beautiful and vivid green, and set withthe most formidable spines. Whenever one moves, these spines enter theclothes in all directions, making it quite a torture to walk aboutamong them. From here I could see that the Finke turned up towardsthese hills through a glen, in a north-westerly direction. Othermountains appeared to the north and north-west; indeed this seemed tobe a range of mountains of great length and breadth. To the eastwardsit may stretch to the telegraph line, and to the west as far as theeye could see. The sun had gone down before I had finished takingbearings. Our road to-morrow will be up through the glen from whichthe river issues. All day a most objectionable hot wind has beenblowing, and clouds of smoke and ashes from the fires, and masses ofdust from the loose soil ploughed up by the horses in front of us, andblowing in our faces, made it one of the most disagreeable days I everpassed. At night, however, a contrast obtained--the wind dropped, anda calm, clear, and beautiful night succeeded to the hot, smoky, anddusty day. Vega alone gave me my latitude here, close to the mouth ofthe glen, as 24 degrees 25' 12"; and, though the day had been so hotand disagreeable, the night proved cold and chilly, the thermometerfalling to 24 degrees by daylight, but there was no frost, or even anydew to freeze. 

CHAPTER 1. 2. FROM 30TH AUGUST TO 6TH SEPTEMBER, 1872. 

(ILLUSTRATION: VIEW IN THE GLEN OF PALMS. )

Milk thistle. In the glen. A serpentine and rocky road. Name a new creek. Grotesque hills. Caves and caverns. Cypress pines. More natives. Astonish them. Agreeable scenery. Sentinel stars. Pelicans. Wild and picturesque scenery. More natives. Palm-trees. A junction in the glen. High ranges to the north. Palms and flowers. The Glen of Palms. Slight rain. Rain at night. Plant various seeds. End of the glen. Its length. Krichauff Range. The northern range. Level country between. A gorge. A flooded channel. Cross a western tributary. Wild ducks. Ramble among the mountains. Their altitude. A splendid panorama. Progress stopped by a torrent and impassable gorge. 

Our start this morning was late, some of our horses having wandered inthe night, the feed at the camp not being very good; indeed the onlygreen herb met by us, for some considerable distance, has been the sowor milk thistle (Sonchus oleraceus), which grows to a considerableheight. Of this the horses are extremely fond: it is also veryfattening. Entering the mouth of the glen, in two miles we foundourselves fairly enclosed by the hills, which shut in the river onboth sides. We had to follow the windings of the serpentine channel;the mountains occasionally forming steep precipices overhanging thestream, first upon one side, then upon the other. We often had to leadthe horses separately over huge ledges of rock, and frequently had tocut saplings and lever them out of the way, continually crossing andrecrossing the river. On camping in the glen we had only made goodeleven miles, though to accomplish this we had travelled more thandouble the distance. At the camp a branch creek came out of themountains to the westwards, which I named Phillip's Creek. The wholeof this line of ranges is composed of red sandstone in large or smallfragments, piled up into the most grotesque shapes. Here and therecaves and caverns exist in the sides of the hills. 

A few trees of the cypress pine (Callitris) were seen upon the summitsof the higher mounts. The hills and country generally seen in thisglen are more fertile than those outside, having real grass instead oftriodia upon their sides. I saw two or three natives just beforecamping; they kept upon the opposite side of the water, according to aslight weakness of theirs. Just at the time I saw them, I had my eyeon some ducks upon the water in the river bed, I therefore determinedto kill two birds with one stone; that is to say, to shoot the ducksand astonish the natives at the same time. I got behind a tree, thenatives I could see were watching me most intently the while, andfired. Two ducks only were shot, the remainder of the birds and thenatives, apparently, flying away together. Our travels to-day werevery agreeable; the day was fine, the breezes cool, and the scenerycontinually changing, the river taking the most sinuous windingsimaginable; the bed of it, as might be expected in such a glen, isrough and stony, and the old fear of the horses bogging has departedfrom us. By bearings back upon hills at the mouth of the glen I foundour course was nearly north 23 degrees west. The night was clear andcold; the stars, those sentinels of the sky, appeared intenselybright. To the explorer they must ever be objects of admiration andlove, as to them he is indebted for his guidance through the untroddenwilderness he is traversing. "And sweet it is to watch them in theevening skies weeping dew from their gentle eyes. " Several hundredpelicans, those antediluvian birds, made their appearance upon thewater early this morning, but seeing us they flew away before a shotcould be fired. These birds came from the north-west; indeed, all theaquatic birds that I have seen upon the wing, come and go in thatdirection. I am in hopes of getting through this glen to-day, forhowever wild and picturesque the scenery, it is very difficult and badtravelling for the unshod horses; consequently it is difficult to getthem along. There was no other road to follow than the windings of theriver bed through this mountain-bound glen, in the same manner asyesterday. Soon after starting, I observed several natives ahead ofus; immediately upon their discovering us they raised a great outcry, which to our ears did not exactly resemble the agreeable vibration ofthe melodious sound, it being quite the opposite. Then of coursesignal fires were made which raised great volumes of smoke, thenatives thinking perhaps to intimidate and prevent us from fartheradvance. Neither of these effects was produced, so their next idea wasto depart themselves, and they ran ahead of us up the glen. I also sawanother lot of some twenty or thirty scudding away over the rocks andstony hills--these were probably the women and children. Passing theirlast night's encampment, we saw that they had left all their valuablesbehind them--these we left untouched. One old gentleman sought thesecurity of a shield of rock, where this villain upon earth and fiendin upper air most vehemently apostrophised us, and probably ordered usaway out of his territory. To the command in itself we paid littleheed, but as it fell in with our own ideas, we endeavoured to carry itout as fast as possible. This, I trust, was satisfactory, as I alwayslike to do what pleases others, especially when it coincides with myown views. 

 "It's a very fine thing, and delightful to see Inclination and duty both join and agree. "

Some of the natives near him threatened us with their spears, andwaved knobbed sticks at us, but we departed without any harm beingdone on either side. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE PALM-TREE FOUND IN THE GLEN OF PALMS. )

Soon after leaving the natives, we had the gratification ofdiscovering a magnificent specimen of the Fan palm, a species ofLivistona, allied to one in the south of Arnhem's Land, and nowdistinguished as the Maria Palm (Baron von Mueller), growing in thechannel of the watercourse with flood drifts against its stem. Itsdark-hued, dome-shaped frondage contrasted strangely with the palergreen foliage of the eucalyptus trees that surrounded it. It was aperfectly new botanical feature to me, nor did I expect to meet it inthis latitude. "But there's a wonderful power in latitude, it alters aman's moral relations and attitude. " I had noticed some strangevegetation in the dry flood drifts lower down, and was on the qui vivefor something new, but I did not know that. This fine tree was sixtyfeet long, or high, in the barrel. Passing the palms, we continuedamongst the defiles of this mountain glen, which appears to have notermination, for no signs of a break or anything but a continuation ofthe range could be observed from any of the hills I ascended. 

It was late in the afternoon when we left the palm-groves, and thoughwe travelled over twenty miles in distance could only make twelve goodfrom last camp. Although this glen was rough and rocky, yet thepurling of the water over its stony bed was always a delightful soundto me; and when the winds of evening fanned us to repose, it seemed asthough some kindly spirit whispered that it would guard us while weslept and when the sun declined the swift stream echoed on. 

The following day being Sunday, the 1st September, I made it a day ofrest, for the horses at least, whose feet were getting sore fromcontinued travel over rocks and boulders of stone. I made an excursioninto the hills, to endeavour to discover when and where thisapparently interminable glen ceased, for with all its grandeur, picturesqueness, and variety, it was such a difficult road for thehorses, that I was getting heartily tired of it; besides this, Ifeared this range might be its actual source, and that I should findmyself eventually blocked and stopped by impassable water-chokedgorges, and that I should finally have to retreat to where I firstentered it. I walked and climbed over several hills, cliffs, andprecipices, of red sandstone, to the west of the camp, and at lengthreached the summit of a pine-clad mountain considerably higher thanany other near it. Its elevation was over 1000 feet above the level ofthe surrounding country. From it I obtained a view to all points ofthe compass except the west, and could descry mountains, from thenorth-east round by north to the north-north west, at which point avery high and pointed mount showed its top above the others in itsneighbourhood, over fifty miles away. To the north and east of north amassive chain, with many dome-shaped summits, was visible. Below, towards the camp, I could see the channel of the river where it forcedits way under the perpendicular sides of the hills, and at a spot notfar above the camp it seemed split in two, or rather was joined byanother watercourse from the northwards. From the junction the courseof the main stream was more directly from the west. Along the courseof the tributary at about ten miles I could see an apparently openpiece of country, and with the glasses there appeared a sheet of waterupon it. I was glad to find a break in the chain, though it was not onthe line I should travel. Returning to my companions, I imparted tothem the result of my observations. 

On Monday, the 2nd, there was a heaviness in the atmosphere that feltlike approaching rain. The thermometer during the night had not fallenbelow 60 degrees; over 4 degrees higher than at our first night's campfrom the pillar. To-day, again following the mazy windings of theglen, we passed the northern tributary noticed yesterday, andcontinued on over rocks, under precipices, crossing and re-crossingthe channel, and turning to all points of the compass, so that nearlythree miles had to be travelled to make good one. Clumps of thebeautiful palms were occasionally passed, growing mostly in the riverbed, and where they appear, they considerably enliven the scenery. During my sojourn in this glen, and indeed from first starting, Icollected a great number of most beautiful flowers, which grow inprofusion in this otherwise desolate glen. I was literally surroundedby fair flowers of every changing hue. Why Nature should scatter suchfloral gems upon such a stony sterile region it is difficult tounderstand, but such a variety of lovely flowers of every kind andcolour I had never met with previously. Nature at times, indeed, delights in contrasts, for here exists a land "where bright flowersare all scentless, and songless bright birds. " The flowers alone wouldhave induced me to name this Glen Flora; but having found in it alsoso many of the stately palm trees, I have called it the Glen of Palms. Peculiar indeed, and romantic too, is this new-found watery glen, enclosed by rocky walls, "Where dial-like, to portion time, thepalm-tree's shadow falls. "

While we were travelling to-day, a few slight showers fell, giving uswarning in their way that heavier falls might come. We were mostanxious to reach the northern mouth of the glen if possible beforenight, so heartily tired were we of so continuously serpentine atrack; we therefore kept pushing on. We saw several natives to-day, but they invariably fled to the fastnesses of their mountain homes, they raised great volumes of smoke, and their strident vociferationscaused a dull and buzzing sound even when out of ear-shot. Thepattering of the rain-drops became heavier, yet we kept on, hoping atevery turn to see an opening which would free us from ourprison-house; but night and heavier rain together came, and we werecompelled to remain another night in the palmy glen. I found a smallsloping, sandy, firm piece of ground, probably the only one in theglen, a little off from the creek, having some blood-wood or redgum-trees growing upon it, and above the reach of any flood-mark--forit is necessary to be careful in selecting a site on a watercourse, as, otherwise, in a single instant everything might be swept todestruction. We were fortunate indeed to find such a refuge, as it waslarge enough for the horses to graze on, and there was some good feedupon it. By the time we had our tarpaulins fixed, and everything undercover, the rain fell in earnest. The tributary passed this morning wasnamed Ellery's Creek. The actual distance we travelled to-day waseighteen miles; to accomplish this we travelled from morn till night. Although the rain continued at intervals all night, no great quantityfell. In the morning the heavens were clear towards the south, but tothe north dense nimbus clouds covered the hills and darkened the sky. Not removing the camp, I took another ramble into the hills to theeast of the camp, and from the first rise I saw what I was mostanxious to see, that is to say, the end, or rather the beginning ofthe glen, which occurred at about two miles beyond our camp. Beyondthat the Finke came winding from the north-west, but clouds obscured adistant view. It appeared that rain must still be falling north of us, and we had to seek the shelter of our canvas home. At midday the wholesky became overclouded, rain came slowly down, and when the nightagain descended heavier still was then the fall. At an hour afterdaylight on the morrow the greatest volume fell, and continued forseveral hours. At midday it held up sufficiently to enable me to plantsome seeds of various trees, plants, vegetables, etc. , given mespecially by Baron von Mueller. Among these were blue gum (tree), cucumbers, melons, culinary vegetables, white maize, prairie grass, sorghum, rye, and wattle-tree seeds, which I soaked before planting. Although the rain lasted thirty-six hours in all, only about an inchfell. It was with great pleasure that at last, on the 5th, we left theglen behind us, and in a couple of miles debouched upon a plain, whichran up to the foot of this line of ranges. The horses seemed to beespecially pleased to be on soft ground again. The length of this glenis considerable, as it occupies 31 minutes of latitude. The mainbearing of it is nearly north 25 degrees west; it is the longestfeature of the kind I ever traversed, being over forty miles straight, and over a hundred miles of actual travelling, and it appeared theonly pass through the range, which I named the Krichauff. To the northa higher and more imposing chain existed, apparently about twentymiles away. This northern chain must be the western portion of theMcDonnell Range. The river now is broader than in the glen; its bed, however, is stony, and not boggy, the country level, sandy, and thinlytimbered, mostly all the vegetation being burnt by grass fires setalight by the natives. 

Travelling now upon the right bank of this stream, we cut off most ofthe bends, which, however, were by no means so extensive or soserpentine as in the glen or on the south side of it. Keeping near theriver bank, we met but little porcupine grass for the most part of theday's stage, but there was abundance of it further off. The river tookus to the foot of the big mountains, and we camped about a mile belowa gorge through which it issues. As we neared the new hills, we becameaware that the late rains were raising the waters of the river. At sixmiles before camping we crossed a tributary joining the Finke at rightangles from the west, where there are some ranges in that direction; aslight stream was running down the bed. My next anxiety is to discoverwhere this river comes from, or whether its sources are to be found inthis chain. The day was delightfully fine and cool, the breezes seemedto vibrate the echo of an air which Music, sleeping at her instrument, had ceased to play. The ground is soft after the late rains. I said wecamped a mile below a gorge; at night I found my position to be inlatitude 23 degrees 40', and longitude 132 degrees 31', the variation3 degrees east. We shot a few ducks, which were very fat and good. This morning I took a walk into the hills to discover the best routeto take next. The high ranges north seem to be formed of threeseparate lines, all running east and west; the most northerly beingthe highest, rising over 2000 feet above the level of the surroundingcountry, and, according to my barometrical and boiling-pointmeasurements, I found that at the Charlotte Waters I was 900 feetabove the sea. From that point up to the foot of these mountains thecountry had steadily risen, as we traced the Finke, over 1000 feet, sothat the highest points of that range are over 4000 feet above sealevel; the most southerly of the three lines is composed of sandstone, the middle and highest tiers I think change to granite. I climbed forseveral hours over masses of hills, but always found one just a littlefarther on to shut out the view. At length I reached the summit of ahigh round mountain in the middle tier, and a most varied and splendidpanorama was spread before me, or I was spread before it. 

To the north was the main chain, composed for the most part ofindividual high mounts, there being a valley between them and the hillI was on, and meandering along through this valley from the west Icould trace the course of the Finke by its timber for some miles. Tothe east a mass of high and jumbled hills appeared, and onebluff-faced mount was more conspicuous than the rest. Nearer to me, and almost under my feet, was the gorge through which the riverpasses, and it appears to be the only pass through this chain. Iapproached the precipice overlooking the gorge, and found the channelso flooded by the late rains, that it was impossible to get the horsesup through it. The hills which enclosed it were equally impracticable, and it was utterly useless to try to get horses over them. The view tothe west was gratifying, for the ranges appeared to run on inundiminished height in that direction, or a little north of it. Fromthe face of several of the hills climbed to-day, I saw streams of purewater running, probably caused by the late rains. One hill I passedover I found to be composed of puddingstone, that is to say, aconglomeration of many kinds of stone mostly rounded and mixed up in amass, and formed by the smothered bubblings of some ancient andocean-quenched volcano. The surface of the place now more particularlymentioned had been worn smooth by the action of the passage of water, so that it presented the appearance of an enormous tessellatedpavement, before which the celebrated Roman one at Bognor, in Sussex, which I remember, when I was a boy, on a visit to Goodwood, thoughmore artistically but not more fantastically arranged, would becompelled to hide its diminished head. In the course of my rambles Inoticed a great quantity of beautiful flowers upon the hills, ofsimilar kinds to those collected in the Glen of Palms, and theseinterested me so greatly, that the day passed before I was aware, andI was made to remember the line, "How noiseless falls the foot of Timethat only treads on flowers. " I saw two kangaroos and one rockwallaby, but they were too wild to allow me to approach near enough toget a shot at them. When I said I walked to-day, I really started onan old favourite horse called Cocky, that had carried me for years, and many a day have I had to thank him for getting me out ofdifficulties through his splendid powers of endurance. I soon foundthe hills too rough for a horse, so fixing up his bridle, I said, "Nowyou stop there till I come back. " I believe he knew everything I said, for I used frequently to talk to him. When I came back at night, notthinking he would stay, as the other horses were all feeding withinhalf a mile of him, there he was just as I had left him. I was quiteinclined to rest after my scrambles in the hills. During the nightnothing occurred to disturb our slumbers, which indeed were aided bythe sounds of the rippling stream, which sang to us a soothing song. 

CHAPTER 1. 3. FROM 6TH TO 17TH SEPTEMBER, 1872. 

Progress stopped. Fall back on a tributary. River flooded. A new range. Rudall's Creek. Reach the range. Grass-trees. Wild beauty of scene. Scarcity of water. A pea-like vetch. Name the range. A barren spot. Water seen from it. Follow a creek channel. Other creeks join it. A confined glen. Scrubby and stony hills. Strike a gum creek. Slimy water. A pretty tree. Flies troublesome. Emus. An orange tree. Tropic of Capricorn. Melodious sounds. Carmichael's Creek. Mountains to the north. Ponds of water. A green plain. Clay-pan water. Fine herbage. Kangaroos and emus numerous. A new tree. Agreeable encampment. Peculiar mountains. High peak. Start to ascend it. Game plentiful. Racecourse plain. Surrounded by scrubs. A bare slope. A yawning chasm. Appearance of the peak. Gleaming pools. Cypress pines. The tropic clime of youth. Proceed westwards. Thick scrubs. Native method of procuring water. A pine-clad hill. A watercourse to the south. A poor supply of water. Skywards the only view. Horses all gone. Increasing temperature. Attempt ascending high bluff. Timberless mountains. Beautiful flowers. Sultry night. Wretched encampment. Depart from it. 

I had come to the decision, as it was impossible to follow the Finkethrough the gorge in consequence of the flood, and as the hills wereequally impracticable, to fall back upon the tributary I had noticedthe day before yesterday as joining the river from the west, thinkingI might in twenty or thirty miles find a gap in the northern rangethat would enable me to reach the Finke again. The night was verycold, the thermometer at daylight stood at 28 degrees. The river hadrisen still higher in the night, and it was impossible to pass throughthe gorge. We now turned west-south-west, in order to strike thetributary. Passing first over rough stony ridges, covered withporcupine grass, we entered a sandy, thickly-bushed country, andstruck the creek in ten miles. A new range lying west I expected to bethe source of it, but it now seemed to turn too much to the south. There was very poor grass, it being old and dry, but as the new rangeto the west was too distant, we encamped, as there was water. Thiswatercourse was called Rudall's Creek. A cold and very dewy night madeall our packs, blankets, etc. , wet and clammy; the mercury fell belowfreezing point, but instantly upon the sun's appearance it went upenormously. The horses rambled, and it was late when we reached thewestern range, as our road was beset by some miles of dense scrubs. The range was isolated, and of some elevation. As we passed along thecreek, the slight flood became slighter still; it had now nearlyceased running. The day was one of the warmest we had yet experienced. The creek now seemed not to come from the range, but, thinking watermight be got there so soon after rains, we travelled up to its foot. The country was sandy, and bedecked with triodia, but near the range Isaw for the first time on this expedition a quantity of the Australiangrass-tree (Xanthorrhoea) dotting the landscape. They were of allheights, from two to twenty feet. The country round the base of thisrange is not devoid of a certain kind of wild beauty. A few blood-woodor red gum-trees, with their brilliant green foliage, enlivened thescene. 

A small creek, lined with gum-trees, issued from an opening or glen, up which I rode in search of water, but was perfectly unsuccessful, asnot a drop of the life-sustaining fluid was to be found. Uponreturning to impart this discouraging intelligence to my companions, Istumbled upon a small quantity in a depression, on a broad, almostsquare boulder of rock that lay in the bed of the creek. There was notmore than two quarts. As the horses had watered in the afternoon, andas there was a quantity of a herb, much like a green vetch or smallpea, we encamped. I ascended a small eminence to the north, and withthe glasses could distinguish the creek last left, now running eastand west. I saw water gleaming in its channel, and at the junction ofthe little creek we were now on; there was also water nearly east. Asthe horses were feeding down the creek that way, I felt sure theywould go there and drink in the night. It is, however, very strangewhenever one wants horses to do a certain thing or feed a certain way, they are almost sure to do just the opposite, and so it was in thepresent case. On returning to camp by a circuitous route, I found in asmall rocky crevice an additional supply of water, sufficient for ourown requirements--there was nearly a bucketful--and felicity reignedin the camp. A few cypress pines are rooted in the rocky shelvingsides of the range, which is not of such elevation as it appeared froma distance. The highest points are not more than from 700 to 800 feet. I collected some specimens of plants, which, however, are not peculiarto this range. I named it Gosse's range, after Mr. Harry Gosse. Thelate rains had not visited this isolated mass. It is barren andcovered with spinifex from turret to basement, wherever sufficientsoil can be found among the stones to admit of its growth. 

The night of the 9th of September, like the preceding, was cold anddewy. The horses wandered quite in the wrong direction, and it waseleven o'clock before we got away from the camp and went north to thesheet of water seen yesterday, where we watered the horses andfollowed up the creek, as its course here appeared to be from thewest. The country was level, open, and sandy, but covered with thewidely pervading triodia (irritans). Some more Xanthorrhoea were seen, and several small creeks joined this from the ranges to the north. Small sheets of water were seen in the creek as we passed along, butwhether they existed before the late rains is very problematical. Theweather is evidently getting warmer. We had been following this creekfor two days; it now turned up into a confined glen in a morenortherly direction. At last its northern course was so pronounced wehad to leave it, as it evidently took its rise amongst the low hillsin that direction, which shut out any view of the higher ranges behindthem. Our road was now about west-north-west, over wretched, stony, barren, mallee (Eucalyptus) covered low hills or stony rises; themallee scrub being so thick, it was difficult to drive the horsesthrough it. Farther on we crested the highest ground the horses hadyet passed over. From here with the glasses I fancied I saw the timberof a creek in a valley to the north-west, in which direction we nowwent, and struck the channel of a small dry watercourse, whose bankswere lined with gum-trees. When there is any water in its channel, itsflow is to the west. The creek joined another, in which, afterfollowing it for a mile or two, I found a small pool of water, whichhad evidently lain there for many months, as it was half slime, anddrying up fast. It was evident the late rains had not fallen here. 

In consequence of the windings of the creeks, we travelled upon allpoints of the compass, but our main course was a little west ofnorth-west. The day was warm enough, and when we camped we felt thebenefit of what shade the creek timber could afford. Some of the smallvetch, or pea-like plant, of which the horses are so fond, existedhere. To-day we saw a single quandong tree (Fusanus; one of the sandalwoods, but not of commerce) in full bearing, but the fruit not yetripe. I also saw a pretty drooping acacia, whose leaves hung in smallbunches together, giving it an elegant and pendulous appearance. Thistree grows to a height of fifty feet; and some were over a footthrough in the barrel. 

The flies to-day were exceedingly troublesome: a sure sign ofincreasing temperature. We saw some emus, but being continually huntedby the natives, they were too shy to allow us to get within shot ofthem. Some emu steaks would come in very handy now. Near our pool ofslime a so-called native orange tree (Capparis), of a very poor andstunted habit, grew; and we allowed it to keep on growing. 

The stars informed me, in the night, that I was almost under thetropic line, my latitude being 23 degrees 29'. The horses fed well onthe purple vetch, their bells melodiously tinkling in the air thewhole night long. The sound of the animals' bells, in the night, isreally musical to the explorer's ear. I called the creek after Mr. Carmichael; and hoping it would contain good water lower down, decidedto follow it, as it trended to the west. We found, however, in a fewmiles, it went considerably to the south of west, when it eventuallyturned up again to the north-west. 

We still had the main line of mountains on our right, or north of us:and now, to the south, another line of low hills trended up towardsthem; and there is evidently a kind of gap between the two lines ofranges, about twenty-five miles off. The country along the banks ofCarmichael's Creek was open and sandy, with plenty of old dry grass, and not much triodia; but to the south, the latter and mallee scrubapproached somewhat near. We saw several small ponds of water as wepassed along, but none of any size. In seven or eight miles it splitinto several channels, and eventually exhausted itself upon an opengrassy swamp or plain. The little plain looked bright and green. Ifound some rain water, in clay pans, upon it. A clay pan is a smallarea of ground, whose top soil has been washed or blown away, leavingthe hard clay exposed; and upon this surface, one, two, three, or(scarcely) more inches of rain water may remain for some days afterrain: the longer it remains the thicker it gets, until at last itdries in cakes which shine like tiles; these at length crumble away, and the clay pan is swept by winds clean and ready for the nextshower. In the course of time it becomes enlarged and deepened. Theyare very seldom deep enough for ducks. 

The grass and herbage here were excellent. There were numerouskangaroos and emus on the plain, but they preferred to leave us inundisturbed possession of it. There were many evidences of nativecamping places about here; and no doubt the natives look upon thislittle circle as one of their happy hunting grounds. To-day I noticeda tree in the mallee very like a Currajong tree. This being the mostagreeable and fertile little spot I had seen, we did not shift thecamp, as the horses were in clover. Our little plain is bounded on thenorth by peculiar mountains; it is also fringed with scrub nearly allround. The appearance of the northern mountains is singular, grotesque, and very difficult to describe. There appear to be stillthree distinct lines. One ends in a bluff, to the east-north-east ofthe camp; another line ends in a bluff to the north-north-east; whilethe third continues along the northern horizon. One point, higher thanthe rest in that line, bears north 26 degrees west from camp. Themiddle tier of hills is the most strange-looking; it recedes in thedistance eastwards, in almost regular steps or notches, each of thembeing itself a bluff, and all overlooking a valley. The bluffs have acircular curve, are of a red colour, and in perspective appear like agigantic flat stairway, only that they have an oblique tendency to thesouthward, caused, I presume, by the wash of ocean currents that, atperhaps no greatly distant geological period, must have swept overthem from the north. My eyes, however, were mostly bent upon the highpeak in the northern line; and Mr. Carmichael and I decided to walkover to, and ascend it. It was apparently no more than seven or eightmiles away. 

As my reader is aware, I left the Finke issuing through animpracticable gorge in these same ranges, now some seventy-five milesbehind us, and in that distance not a break had occurred in the linewhereby I could either get over or through it, to meet the Finkeagain; indeed, at this distance it was doubtful whether it were worthwhile to endeavour to do so, as one can never tell what change maytake place, in even the largest of Australian streams, in such adistance. When last seen, it was trending along a valley under thefoot of the highest of three tiers of hills, and coming from the west;but whether its sources are in those hills, or that it still runs onsomewhere to the north of us, is the question which I now hope tosolve. I am the more anxious to rediscover the Finke, if it stillexists, because water has been by no means plentiful on the routealong which I have lately been travelling; and I believe a bettercountry exists upon the other side of the mountains. 

At starting, Carmichael and I at first walked across the plain, webeing encamped upon its southern end. It was beautifully grassed, andhad good soil, and it would make an excellent racecourse, or groundfor a kangaroo hunt. We saw numbers of kangaroos, and emus too, butcould get no shots at them. In three miles the plain ended in thick, indeed very dense, scrub, which continued to the foot of the hills; init the grass was long, dry, and tangled with dead and dry burnt sticksand timber, making it exceedingly difficult to walk through. Reachingthe foot of the hills, I found the natives had recently burnt all thevegetation from their sides, leaving the stones, of which it wascomposed, perfectly bare. It was a long distance to the top of thefirst ridge, but the incline was easy, and I was in great hopes, if itcontinued so, to be able to get the horses over the mountains at thisspot. Upon arriving at the top of the slope, I was, however, undeceived upon that score, for we found the high mount, for which wewere steering, completely separated from us by a yawning chasm, whichlay, under an almost sheer precipice, at our feet. The high mountainbeyond, near the crown, was girt around by a solid wall of rock, fiftyor sixty feet in height, from the edge of which the summit rose. Itwas quite unapproachable, except, perhaps, in one place, round to thenorthward. 

The solid rock of which it had formerly been composed had, by somemighty force of nature, been split into innumerable fissures andfragments, both perpendicularly and horizontally, and was almostmathematically divided into pieces or squares, or unequal cubes, simply placed upon one another, like masons' work without mortar. Thelower strata of these divisions were large, the upper tapered topieces not much larger than a brick, at least they seemed so from adistance. The whole appearance of this singular mount was grand andawful, and I could not but reflect upon the time when these colossalridges were all at once rocking in the convulsive tremblings of somemighty volcanic shock, which shivered them into the fragments I thenbeheld. I said the hill we had ascended ended abruptly in a precipice;by going farther round we found a spot, which, though practicable, wasdifficult enough to descend. At the bottom of some of the ravinesbelow I could see several small pools of water gleaming in littlestony gullies. 

The afternoon had been warm, if not actually hot, and our walking andclimbing had made us thirsty; the sight of water made us all the moreso. It was now nearly sundown, and it would be useless to attempt theascent of the mountain, as by the time we could reach its summit, thesun would be far below the horizon, and we should obtain no view atall. 

It was, however, evident that no gap or pass existed by which I couldget my horses up, even if the country beyond were ever so promising. Afew of the cypress or Australian pines (Callitris) dotted the summitsof the hills, they also grew on the sides of some of the ravines belowus. We had, at least I had, considerable difficulty in descending thealmost perpendicular face to the water below. Carmichael got therebefore I did, and had time to sit, laving his feet and legs in a finelittle rock hole full of pure water, filled, I suppose, by the laterains. The water, indeed, had not yet ceased to run, for it wastrickling from hole to hole. Upon Mr. Carmichael inquiring whatdelayed me so long, I replied: "Ah, it is all very easy for you; youhave two circumstances in your favour. You are young, and thereforeable to climb, and besides, you are in the tropic. " To which he verynaturally replies, "If I am in the tropic you must be also. " Ibenignly answer, "No, you are in the tropic clime of youth. " While onthe high ground no view of any kind, except along the mountains for amile or two east and west, could be obtained. I was greatlydisappointed at having such a toilsome walk for so little purpose. Wereturned by a more circuitous route, eventually reaching the camp verylate at night, thoroughly tired out with our walk. I named thismountain Mount Musgrave. It is nearly 1700 feet above the level of thesurrounding country, and over 3000 feet above the sea. The next dayMr. Carmichael went out to shoot game; there were kangaroos, and inthe way of birds there were emus, crows, hawks, quail, andbronze-winged pigeons; but all we got from his expedition was nil. Thehorses now being somewhat refreshed by our stay here, we proceededacross the little plain towards another high bluff hill, which loomedover the surrounding country to the west-north-west. Flies weretroublesome, and very busy at our eyes; soon after daylight, andimmediately after sunrise, it became quite hot. 

Traversing first the racecourse plain, we then entered some mulgascrub; the mulga is an acacia, the wood extremely hard. It grows to aheight of twenty to thirty feet, but is by no means a shady or even apretty tree; it ranges over an enormous extent of Australia. The scrubwe now entered had been recently burnt near the edge of the plain; butthe further we got into it, the worse it became. At seven miles wecame to stones, triodia, and mallee, a low eucalyptus of the gumtreefamily, growing generally in thick clumps from one root: its beingrooted close together makes it difficult travelling to force one's waythrough. It grows about twenty feet high. The higher grade ofeucalypts or gum-trees delight in water and a good soil, and nearlyalways line the banks of watercourses. The eucalypts of the malleespecies thrive in deserts and droughts, but contain water in theirroots which only the native inhabitants of the country can discover. Awhite man would die of thirst while digging and fooling around tryingto get the water he might know was preserved by the tree, but not forhim; while an aboriginal, upon the other hand, coming to amallee-tree, after perhaps travelling miles through them withoutnoticing one, will suddenly make an exclamation, look at a tree, goperhaps ten or twelve feet away, and begin to dig. In a foot or so hecomes upon a root, which he shakes upwards, gradually getting more andmore of it out of the ground, till he comes to the foot of the tree;he then breaks it off, and has a root perhaps fifteen feet long--this, by the way, is an extreme length. He breaks the root into sectionsabout a foot long, ties them into bundles, and stands them up on endin a receptacle, when they drain out a quantity of beautifully sweet, pure water. A very long root such as I have mentioned might givenearly a bucketful of water; but woe to the white man who fancies hecan get water out of mallee. There are a few other trees of differentkinds that water is also got from, as I have known it obtained fromthe mulga, acacia trees, and from some casuarina trees; it dependsupon the region they are in, as to what trees give the most if anywater, but it is an aboriginal art at any time or place to find it. 

The mallee we found so dense that not a third of the horses could beseen together, and with great difficulty we managed to reach the footof a small pine-clad hill lying under the foot of the high bluffbefore mentioned--there a small creek lined with eucalypts ran underits foot. Though our journey to-day was only twelve miles, thatdistance through such horrible scrubs took us many hours. From the topof the piny hill I could see a watercourse to the south two or threemiles away; it is probably Carmichael's Creek, reformed, aftersplitting on the plain behind; Carmichael found a little water-hole upthis channel, with barely sufficient water for our use. The day hadbeen disagreeably warm. I rode over to the creek to the south, andfound two small puddles in its bed; but there was evidently plenty ofwater to be got by digging, as by scratching with my hands I soonobtained some. The camp which Carmichael and Robinson had selected, while I rode over to the other creek, was a most wretched place, inthe midst of dense mallee and amidst thick plots of triodia, which wehad to cut away before we could sit down. 

The only direction in which we could see a yard ahead of us was uptowards the sky; and as we were not going that way, it gave us no ideaof our next line of route. The big bluff we had been steering for allday was, I may say, included in our skyward view, for it towered aboveus almost overhead. Being away when the camp was selected, I was sorryto hear that the horses had all been let go without hobbles; as theyhad been in such fine quarters for three nights at the last camp onthe plain, it was more than probable they would work back through thescrub to it in the night. The following morning not a horse was to befound! Robinson and I went in search of them, and found they had splitinto several mobs. I only got three, and at night Robinson returnedwith only six, the remainder had been missed in the dense scrubs. Thethermometer stood at 95 degrees in the shade, and there was a warmwind blowing. Robinson had a fine day's work, as he had to walk backto the camp on the plain for the horses he got. In the afternoon Iattempted the high bluff immediately overlooking the camp. I had a bitof cliff-climbing, and reached the summit of one hill of someelevation, 1300 feet, and then found that a vast chasm, or ravine, separated me from the main mountain chain. It would be dark before Icould--if I could--reach the summit, and then I should get no view, soI returned to the camp. The height was considerable, as mountains inthis part of the world go, as it towered above the hill I was upon, and was 500 or 600 feet higher. These mountains appear to be composedof a kind of conglomerate granite; very little timber existed uponthem, but they were splendidly supplied with high, strong, coarsespinifex. I slipped down a gully, fell into a hideous bunch of thishorrid stuff, and got pricked from head to foot; the spiny pointsbreaking off in my clothes and flesh caused me great annoyance andpain for many days after. Many beautiful flowers grew on thehillsides, in gullies and ravines; of these I collected several. Wesecured what horses we had, for the night, which was warm and sultry. In the morning Robinson and I rode after the still missing ones; atthe plain camp we found all except one, and by the time we returned itwas night. 

Not hobbling the horses in general, we had some difficulty in findinga pair of hobbles for each, and not being able to do so, I left one inthe mob without. This base reptile surreptitiously crawled away in thenight by himself. As our camp was the most wretched dog-hole it waspossible for a man to get into, in the midst of dense mallee, triodia, and large stones, I determined to escape from it, before looking forthe now two missing animals. The water was completely exhausted. Wemoved away south-westerly for about three miles, to the creek I hadscratched in some days ago; now we had to dig a big hole with ashovel, and with a good deal of labour we obtained a sufficient supplyfor a few days. 

CHAPTER 1. 4. FROM 17TH SEPTEMBER TO 1ST OCTOBER, 1872. 

Search for the missing horses. Find one. Hot wind and flying sand. Last horse recovered. Annoyed by flies. Mountains to the west. Fine timber. Gardiner's Range. Mount Solitary. Follow the creek. Dig a tank. Character of the country. Thunderstorms. Mount Peculiar. A desolate region. Sandhills. Useless rain. A bare granite hill. No water. Equinoctial gales. Search for water. Find a rock reservoir. Native fig-trees. Gloomy and desolate view. The old chain. Hills surrounded by scrubs. More hills to the west. Difficult watering-place. Immortelles. Cold weather. View from a hill. Renewed search for water. Find a small supply. Almost unapproachable. Effects of the spinifex on the horses. Pack-horses in scrubs. The Mus conditor. Glistening micaceous hills. Unsuccessful search. Waterless hill nine hundred feet high. Oceans of scrub. Retreat to last reservoir. Natives' smokes. Night without water. Unlucky day. Two horses lost. Recover them. Take a wrong turn. Difficulty in watering the horses. An uncomfortable camp. Unsuccessful searches. Mount Udor. Mark a tree. Tender-footed horses. Poor feed. Sprinkling rain. Flies again troublesome. Start for the western ranges. No water. Difficult scrubs. Lonely camp. Horses away. Reach the range. No water. Retreat to Mount Udor. Slight rain. Determine to abandon this region. Corkwood trees. Ants' nests. Glow-worms. Native poplar trees. Peculiar climate. Red gum-trees. A mare foals. Depart for the south. Remarks on the country. 

Having fixed our camp at a new place, in the afternoon of the 17thSeptember, Robinson and I again went to look after the horses. Atthree miles above the camp we found some water; soon after we got thetracks of one horse and saw that he had been about there for a day ortwo, as the tracks were that age. We made a sweep out round somehills, found the tracks again, much fresher, and came upon the horseabout seven miles from the camp. The other horse was left forto-morrow. Thermometer 96 degrees, sky overcast, rain imminent. 

During the night of the 18th of September a few heat-drops of rainfell. I sent Robinson away to the plain camp, feeling sure he wouldfind the rover there. A hot wind blew all day, the sand was flyingabout in all directions. Robinson got the horse at last at the plain, and I took special care to find a pair of hobbles for him for thisnight at all events. The flies were an intolerable nuisance, not thatthey were extraordinarily numerous, but so insufferably pertinacious. I think the tropic fly of Australia the most abominable insect of itskind. From the summit of the hill I ascended on Sunday, I found theline of mountains still ran on to the west, the furthest hillsappeared fifty miles away. As they extend so far, and are theprincipal features in sight, I shall follow them, in hopes of meetingsome creek, or river, that may carry me on to the west. It is aremarkable fact that such high hills as I have been following shouldsend out no creek whose course extends farther than ten or twelvemiles. I could trace the creek I am now on by its timber for only afew miles, its course appearing south of west. The country in itsimmediate neighbourhood is open, and timbered with fine casuarinatrees; the grass is dry and long, and the triodia approaches to withina quarter of a mile of it. The line of hills I previously mentioned asrunning along to the south of us, we had now run out. I named themGardiner's Range, after a friend of Mr. Carmichael's. There is, however, one small isolated hill, the furthest outpost of that line, some three miles away to the south-west; the creek may probably take abend down towards it. I called it Mount Solitary. This creek is ratherwell timbered, the gum-trees look fresh and young, and there is somegreen herbage in places, though the surface water has all disappeared. 

There was so little water at the camp tank, we had to send the horsesup the creek three miles to water, and on their return I was not sorryto be moving again, for our stay at these two last camps had beencompulsory, and the anxiety, trouble, and annoyance we had, left novery agreeable reminiscences of the locality in our minds. 

We travelled along the creek all day, cutting off the bends, butwithout seeing any signs of water: towards evening we set to work totry if we could get any by digging. In about four feet, water began todrain in, but, the sand being so loose, we had to remove an enormousquantity to enable a horse to drink. Some of the horses would not gointo it, and had to be watered with a canvas bucket. The supply seemedgood, but it only drained in from the sides. Every time a horse drankwe had to clear out the sand for the next; it therefore took untillate before all were satisfied. The country was still open, andtimbered with fine black oak, or what is so called in Australia. It isa species of casuarina, of the same family but distinct from thebeautiful desert oak. Triodia reigned supreme within half a mile. Atthis camp the old grass had been burnt, and fresh young green shootsappeared in its place; this was very good for the horses. A few dropsof rain fell; distant rumblings of thunder and flashes of lightningnow cooled the air. While we were at breakfast the next morning, athunderstorm came up to us from the west, then suddenly turned away, only just sprinkling us, though we could see the rain falling heavilya few yards to the south. We packed up and went off, hoping to find abetter watered region at the hills westwards. There was anextraordinary mount a little to the west of north from us; it lookedsomething like a church; it was over twenty miles away: I called itMount Peculiar. Leaving the creek on our left, to run itself out intosome lonely flat or dismal swamp, known only to the wretchedinhabitants of this desolate region--over which there seems to broodan unutterable stillness and a dread repose--we struck into sandhillcountry, rather open, covered with the triodia or spinifex, andtimbered with the casuarina or black oak trees. We had scarcely gonetwo miles when our old thunderstorm came upon us--it had evidentlymissed us at first, and had now come to look for us--and it rainedheavily. The country was so sandy and porous that no water remained onthe surface. We travelled on and the storm travelled with us--theground sucking up every drop that fell. Continuing our course, whichwas north 67 degrees west, we travelled twenty-five miles. At thisdistance we came in sight of the mountains I was steering for, butthey were too distant to reach before night, so, turning a littlenorthward to the foot of a low, bare, white granite hill, I hoped tofind a creek, or at least some ledges in the rocks, where we might getsome water. Not a drop was to be found. Though we had been travellingin the rain all day and accomplished thirty miles, we were obliged tocamp without water at last. There was good feed for the horses, and, as it was still raining, they could not be very greatly in want ofwater. We fixed up our tent and retired for the night, the windblowing furiously, as might reasonably be expected, for it was the eveof the vernal equinox, and this I supposed was our share of theequinoctial gales. We were compelled in the morning to remove thecamp, as we had not a drop of water, and unless it descended in sheetsthe country could not hold it, being all pure red sand. The hill nearus had no rocky ledges to catch water, so we made off for the highermountains for which we were steering yesterday. Their nearest or mosteastern point was not more than four miles away, and we went first toit. I walked on ahead of the horses with the shovel, to a small gullyI saw with the glasses, having some few eucalypts growing in it. Iwalked up it, to and over rocky ledges, down which at times, no doubt, small leaping torrents roar. Very little of yesterday's rain hadfallen here; but most fortunately I found one small rock reservoir, with just sufficient water for all the horses. There was none eitherabove or below in any other basin, and there were many better-lookingplaces, but all were dry. The water in this one must have stood forsome time, yesterday's rain not having affected it in the least. Theplace at which I found the water was the most difficult for horses toreach; it was almost impracticable. After finding this opportunethough awkwardly situated supply, I climbed to the summit of themount. On the top was a native fig-tree in full bearing; the fruit wasripe and delicious. It is the size of an ordinary marble, yellow whenunripe, and gradually becoming red, then black: it is full of smallseeds. I was disturbed from my repast by seeing the horses, severalhundred feet below me, going away in the wrong direction. And I had todescend before I had time to look around; but the casual glance Iobtained gave me the most gloomy and desolate view imaginable; one, almost enough to daunt the explorer from penetrating any farther intosuch a dreadful region. To the eastward, I found I had now long outrunthe old main chain of mountains, which had turned up to the north, orrather north-north-westward; between me and it a mass of jumbled andbroken mounts appeared; each separate one, however, was almostsurrounded by scrubs, which ran up to the foot of the hill I was upon. Northward the view was similar. To the west the picture was the same, except that a more defined range loomed above the interveningscrubs--the hills furthest away in that direction being probably fiftymiles distant. The whole horizon looked dark and gloomy--I could seeno creeks of any kind, the most extensive water channels were meregullies, and not existing at all at a mile from the hills they issuedfrom. 

Watering our horses proved a difficult and tedious task; as many ofthem would not approach the rocky basin, the water had to be carriedup to them in canvas buckets. By the time they were all watered, andwe had descended from the rocky gully, the day had passed with mostmiraculous celerity. The horses did not finish the water, there beingnearly sufficient to give them another drink. The grass was good here, as a little flat, on which grew some yellow immortelles, had recentlybeen burnt. I allowed the horses to remain and drink up the balance ofthe water, while I went away to inspect some other gorges or gulliesin the hills to the west of us, and see whether any more water couldbe found. The day was cool and fine. 

I climbed to the summit of a hill about 800 feet from its base. Theview was similar to yesterday's, except that I could now see thesehills ran on west for twelve or fifteen miles, where the country wasentirely covered with scrubs. Little gullies, with an odd, andstunted, gum-tree here and there, were seen. Few of these gullies weremore than six feet wide, and the trumpery little streams that descend, in even their most flooded state, would be of but little service toanybody. I had wandered up and down hills, in and out of gullies, allthe morning, but had met no single drop of water, and was returningdisappointed to the camp when, on trying one more small scrubby, dreadfully-rocky little gully which I had missed, or rather passed by, in going out, I was fortunate enough to discover a few small rockyholes full of the purest fluid. This treasure was small indeed, but mygratitude was great; for what pleased me most was the rather strangefact that the water was trickling from one basin to another, but withthe weakest possible flow. Above and below where I found this waterthe gully and the rocks were as dry as the desert around. Had thesupply not been kept up by the trickling, half my horses would haveemptied all the holes at a draught. 

The approach to this water was worse, rougher, rockier, and moreimpracticable than at the camp; I was, however, most delighted to havefound it, otherwise I should have had to retreat to the last creek. Idetermined, however, not to touch it now, but to keep it as a reservefund, should I be unable to find more out west. Returning to camp, wegave the horses all the water remaining, and left the spot perfectlydry. 

We now had the line of hills on our right, and travelled nearlywest-north-west. Close to the foot of the hills the country is open, but covered with large stones, between the interstices of which growhuge bunches of the hideous spinifex, which both we and the horsesdread like a pestilence. We have encountered this scourge for over 200miles. All around the coronets of most of the horses, in consequenceof their being so continually punctured with the spines of thisterrible grass, it has caused a swelling, or tough enlargement of theflesh and skin, giving them the appearance of having ring-bones. Manyof them have the flesh quite raw and bleeding; they are also verytender-footed from traversing so much stony ground, as we have latelyhad to pass over. Bordering upon the open stony triodia groundabove-mentioned is a bed of scrubs, composed chiefly of mulga, thoughthere are various other trees, shrubs, and plants amongst it. It is sodense and thick that in it we cannot see a third of the horses atonce; they, of course, continually endeavour to make into it to avoidthe stones and triodia; for, generally speaking, the pungent triodiaand the mulga acacia appear to be antagonistic members of thevegetable kingdom. The ground in the scrubs is generally soft, and onthat account also the horses seek it. Out of kindness, I haveoccasionally allowed them to travel in the scrubs, when our directcourse should have been on the open, until some dire mishap forces usout again; for, the scrubs being so dense, the horses are compelled tocrash through them, tearing the coverings of their loads, andfrequently forcing sticks in between their backs or sides and theirsaddles, sometimes staking themselves severely. Then we hear a franticcrashing through the scrubs, and the sounds of the pounding ofhorse-hoofs are the first notice we receive that some calamity hasoccurred. So soon as we ourselves can force our way through, andcollect the horses the best way we can, yelling and howling to oneanother to say how many each may have got, we discover one or twomissing. Then they have to be tracked; portions of loads are picked uphere and there, and, in the course of an hour or more, the horse orhorses are found, repacked, and on we push again, mostly for the open, though rough and stony spinifex ground, where at least we can see whatis going on. These scrubs are really dreadful, and one's skin andclothes get torn and ripped in all directions. One of these mishapsoccurred to-day. 

In these scrubs are met nests of the building rat (Mus conditor). Theyform their nests with twigs and sticks to the height of four feet, thecircumference being fifteen to twenty. The sticks are all lengths upto three feet, and up to an inch in diameter. Inside are chambers andgalleries, while in the ground underneath are tunnels, which arecarried to some distance from their citadel. They occur in many partsof Australia, and are occasionally met with on plains where few treescan be found. As a general rule, they frequent the country inhabitedby the black oak (casuarina). They can live without water, but, attimes, build so near a watercourse as to have their structures sweptaway by floods. Their flesh is very good eating. 

In ten miles we had passed several little gullies, and reached thefoot of other hills, where a few Australian pines were scattered hereand there. These hills have a glistening, sheening, laminatedappearance, caused by the vast quantities of mica which abounds inthem. Their sides are furrowed and corrugated, and their upperportions almost bare rock. Time was lost here in unsuccessful searchesfor water, and we departed to another range, four or five milesfarther on, and apparently higher; therefore perhaps more likely tosupply us with water. Mr. Carmichael and I ascended the range, andfound it to be 900 feet from its base; but in all its gullies waterthere was none. The view from the summit was just such as I havedescribed before--an ocean of scrubs, with isolated hills or rangesappearing like islands in most directions. Our horses had been alreadytwenty-four hours without water. I wanted to reach the far range tothe west, but it was useless to push all the pack-horses farther intosuch an ocean of scrubs, as our rate of progress in them was soterribly slow. I decided to return to the small supply I had left as areserve, and go myself to the far range, which was yet some thirtymiles away. The country southward seemed to have been more recentlyvisited by the natives than upon our line of march, which perhaps wasnot to be wondered at, as what could they get to live on out of such aregion as we had got into? Probably forty or fifty miles to the south, over the tops of some low ridges, we saw the ascending smoke ofspinifex fires, still attended to by the natives; and in theneighbourhood, no doubt, they had some watering places. On our retreatwe travelled round the northern face of the hills, upon whose southside we had arrived, in hopes of finding some place having water, where I might form a depot for a few days. By night we could findnone, and had to encamp without, either for ourselves or our horses. 

The following day seemed foredoomed to be unlucky; it really appearedas though everything must go wrong by a natural law. In the firstplace, while making a hobble peg, while Carmichael and Robinson wereaway after the horses, the little piece of wood slipped out of myhand, and the sharp blade of the knife went through the top and nailof my third finger and stuck in the end of my thumb. The cut bledprofusely, and it took me till the horses came to sew my mutilateddigits up. It was late when we left this waterless spot. As there wasa hill with a prepossessing gorge, I left Carmichael and Robinson tobring the horses on, and rode off to see if I could find water there. Though I rode and walked in gullies and gorges, no water was to befound. I then made down to where the horses should have passed along, and found some of them standing with their packs on, in a small bit ofopen ground, surrounded by dense scrubs, which by chance I came to, and nobody near. I called and waited, and at last Mr. Carmichael cameand told me that when he and Robinson debouched with the horses onthis little open space, they found that two of the animals weremissing, and that Robinson had gone to pick up their tracks. The horsecarrying my papers and instruments was one of the truants. Robinsonsoon returned, not having found the track. Neither of them could tellwhen they saw the horses last. I sent Mr. Carmichael to another hilltwo or three miles away, that we had passed, but not inspectedyesterday, to search for water, while Robinson and I looked for themissing horses. And lest any more should retreat during our absence, we tied them up in two mobs. Robinson tied his lot up near a smallrock. We then separately made sweeps round, returning to the horses onthe opposite side, without success. We then went again in company, andagain on opposite sides singly, but neither tracks nor horses could befound. Five hours had now elapsed since I first heard of theirabsence. I determined to make one more circuit beyond any we hadalready taken, so as to include the spot we had camped at; thisoccupied a couple of hours. When I returned I was surprised to hearthat Robinson had found the horses in a small but extra dense bunch ofscrub not twenty yards from the spot where he had tied his horses up. While I was away he had gone on top of the little stony eminence closeby, and from its summit had obtained a bird's-eye view of the groundbelow, and thus perceived the two animals, which had never been absentat all. It seemed strange to me that I could not find their tracks, but the reason was there were no tracks to find. I took it for grantedwhen Carmichael told me of their absence that they were absent, but heand Robinson were both mistaken. 

It was now nearly evening, and I had been riding my horse at a fastpace the whole day; I was afraid we could not reach the reserve waterby night. But we pushed on, Mr. Carmichael joining us, not havingfound any water. At dusk we reached the small creek or gully, up inwhose rocks I had found the water on Sunday. At a certain point thecreek split in two, or rather two channels joined, and formed one, andI suppose the same ill fate that had pursued me all day made memistake the proper channel, and we drove the unfortunate and limpinghorses up a wretched, rocky, vile, scrubby, almost impenetrable gully, where there was not a sup of water. 

On discovering my error, we had to turn them back over the samehorrible places, all rocks, dense scrubs, and triodia, until we gotthem into the proper channel. When near the first little hole I hadformerly seen, I dismounted, and walked up to see how it had stoodduring my absence, and was grieved to discover that the lowest andlargest hole was nearly dry. I bounded up the rocks to the next, andthere, by the blessing of Providence, was still a sufficient quantity, as the slow trickling of the water from basin to basin had not yetentirely ceased, though its current had sadly diminished since my lastvisit only some seventy hours since. 

By this time it was dark, and totally impossible to get the horses upthe gully. We had to get them over a horrible ridge of broken andjumbled rocks, having to get levers and roll away huge boulders, tomake something like a track to enable the animals to reach the water. 

Time (and labour) accomplishes all things, and in time the lastanimal's thirst was quenched, and the last drop of water sucked upfrom every basin. I was afraid it would not be replenished by morning. We had to encamp in the midst of a thicket of a kind of willow acaciawith pink bark all in little curls, with a small and prettymimosa-like leaf. This bush is of the most tenacious nature--you maybend it, but break it won't. We had to cut away sufficient to make anopen square, large enough for our packs, and to enable us to lie down, also to remove the huge bunches of spinifex that occupied the space;then, when the stones were cleared away, we had something like a placefor a camp. By this time it was midnight, and we slept, all heartilytired of our day's work, and the night being cool we could sleep incomfort. Our first thought in the morning was to see how the basinslooked. Mr. Carmichael went up with a keg to discover, and on hisreturn reported that they had all been refilled in the night, and thatthe trickling continued, but less in volume. This was a great reliefto my mind; I trust the water will remain until I return from thosedismal-looking mountains to the west. I made another search during themorning for more water, but without success, and I can only concludethat this water was permitted by Providence to remain here in thislonely spot for my especial benefit, for no more rain had fallen herethan at any of the other hills in the neighbourhood, nor is this oneany higher or different from the others which I visited, except thatthis one had a little water and all the rest none. In gratitudetherefore to this hill I have called it Mount Udor. Mount Udor was theonly spot where water was to be found in this abominable region, andwhen I left it the udor had departed also. I got two of myriding-horses shod to-day, as the country I intended to travel over isabout half stones and half scrub. I have marked a eucalyptus orgum-tree in this gully close to the foot of the rock where I found thewater [EG/21], as this is my twenty-first camp from Chambers' Pillar. My position here is in latitude 23 degrees 14', longitude 130 degrees55', and variation 3 degrees east nearly. I could not start to-day asthe newly shod horses are so tender-footed that they seem to go worsein their shoes; they may be better to-morrow. The water still holdsout. The camp is in a confined gully, and warm, though it iscomparatively a cool day. The grass here is very poor, and the horseswander a great deal to look for feed. Four of them could not be foundin the morning. A slight thunderstorm passed over in the night, with asprinkling of rain for nearly an hour, but not sufficient fell to dampa pocket-handkerchief. It was, however, quite sufficient to damp myhopes of a good fall. The flies are very numerous here andtroublesome. After watering my two horses I started away by myself forthe ranges out west. I went on our old tracks as far as they went, then I visited some other hills on my line of march. As usual, thecountry alternated between open stones at the foot of the hills anddense scrubs beyond. I thought one of the beds of scrubs I got intothe densest I had ever seen, it was actually impenetrable withoutcutting one's way, and I had to turn around and about in alldirections. I had the greatest difficulty to get the horse I wasleading to come on at all; I had no power over him whatever. I couldnot use either a whip or a stick, and he dragged so much that henearly pulled me out of my saddle, so that I could hardly tell whichway I was going, and it was extremely difficult to keep anything likea straight course. Night overtook me, and I had to encamp in thescrubs, having travelled nearly forty miles. A few drops of rain fell;it may have benefited the horses, but to me it was a nuisance. I wasup, off my sandy couch early enough, but had to wait for daylightbefore I could get the horses; they had wandered away for miles backtowards the camp, and I had the same difficulties over again whengetting them back to where the saddles were. In seven or eight milesafter starting I got out of the scrubs. At the foot of the mountainfor which I was steering there was a little creek or gully, with someeucalypts where I struck it. It was, as all the others had been, scrubby, rocky, and dry. I left the horses and ascended to the top, about 900 feet above the scrubs which surrounded it. The horizon wasbroken by low ranges nearly all round, but scrubs as usual intervenedbetween them. I descended and walked into dozens of gullies and rockyplaces, and I found some small holes and basins, but all were dry. Atthis spot I was eighty miles from a sufficient supply of water; thatat the camp, forty-five miles away, may be gone by the time I return. Under these circumstances I could not go any farther west. It was nowevening again. I left these desolate hills, the Ehrenberg Ranges of mymap, and travelled upon a different line, hoping to find a better orless thick route through the scrubs, but it was just the same, andaltogether abominable. Night again overtook me in the direful scrubs, not very far from the place at which I had slept the previous night;the most of the day was wasted in an ineffectual search for water. 

On Sunday morning, the 29th September, having hobbled my horses soshort, although the scrubs were so thick, they were actually in sightat dawn; I might as well have tied them up. Starting at once, Itravelled to one or two hills we had passed by, but had not inspectedbefore. I could find no water anywhere. It was late when I reached thecamp, and I was gladdened to find the party still there, and that thewater supply had held out so long. On the following morning, Monday, the 30th of September, it was at a very low ebb; the trickling hadceased in the upper holes, though it was still oozing into the lowerones, so that it was absolutely necessary to pack up and be off fromthis wretched place. It was an expedition in itself to get water forthe camp, from the rock basins above. The horses dreaded to approachit on account of their tender feet. It required a lot of labour to getsufficient firewood to boil a quart pot, for, although we were campedin a dense thicket, the small wood of which it was composed was allgreen, and useless for firewood. 

I intended to retreat from here to-day, but just as Robinson wasstarting to find the horses a shower of rain came on, and hoping itmight end in a heavier fall, I decided to remain until to-morrow, togive the rain a chance, --especially as, aided by the slight rain, thehorses could do without a drink, there now being only one drinkremaining, as the trickling had entirely ceased, though we yet had thelittle holes full. The rain fell in a slight and gentle shower two orthree hours, but it left no trace of its fall, even upon the rocks, sothat our water supply was not increased by one pint. 

To-morrow I am off; it is useless to remain in a region such as this. But where shall I go next? The creek I had last got water in, mighteven now be dry. I determined to try and reach it farther down itschannel. If it existed beyond where I left it, I expected, intwenty-five to thirty miles, in a southerly direction, to strike itagain: therefore, I decided to travel in that direction. A fewquandongs, or native peach trees, exist amongst these gullies; also atree that I only know by the name of the corkwood tree. ("Sesbaniagrandiflora, " Baron Mueller says, "North-Western Australia; to theverge of the tropics; Indian Archipelago; called in Australia thecorkwood tree; valuable for various utilitarian purposes. Thered-flowered variety is grandly ornamented. Dr. Roxburgh recommendsthe leaves and young pods as an exquisite spinach; the plant is shy offrost. ") The wood is soft, and light in weight and colour. It is by nomeans a handsome tree. It grows about twenty feet high. Generally twoor three are huddled together, as though growing from one stem. ThoseI saw were nearly all dead. They grow in the little water channels. The ants here, as in nearly the whole of Tropical Australia, buildnests from four to six feet high--in some other parts I have knownthem twenty--to escape, I suppose, from the torrents of rain that attimes fall in these regions: the height also protects their eggs andstores from the fires the natives continually keep burning. Thisburning, perhaps, accounts for the conspicuous absence of insects andreptiles. One night, however, I certainly saw glowworms. These I haveonly seen in one other region in Australia--near Geelong, in Victoria. A tree called the native poplar (Codonocarpus cotinifolius) is alsofound growing in the scrubs and water-channels of this part of thecountry. The climate of this region appears very peculiar. Scarcely aweek passes without thunderstorms and rain; but the latter falls insuch small quantities that it is almost useless. It is evidently onthis account that there are no waters or watercourses deserving of thename. I should like to know how much rain would have to fall herebefore any could be discovered lying on the ground. All waters foundin this part of the country must be got out of pure sand, in a waterchannel or pure rock. The native orange-tree grows here, but thespecimens I have met are very poor and stunted. The blood-wood-trees, or red gum-trees, which always enliven any landscape where they arefound, also occur. They are not, however, the magnificent vegetablestructures which are known in Queensland and Western Australia, butare mostly gnarled and stunted. They also grow near the watercourses. 

The 1st October broke bright and clear, and I was only too thankful toget out of this horrible region and this frightful encampment, intowhich the fates had drawn me, alive. When the horses arrived, therewas only just enough water for all to drink; but one mare was away, and Robinson said she had foaled. The foal was too young to walk ormove; the dam was extremely poor, and had been losing condition forsome time previously; so Robinson went back, killed the foal, andbrought up the mare. Now there was not sufficient water to satisfy herwhen she did come. Mr. Carmichael and I packed up the horses, whileRobinson was away upon his unpleasant mission. When he brought her up, the mare looked the picture of misery. At last I turned my back uponthis wretched camp and region; and we went away to the south. It washalf-past two o'clock when we got clear from our prison. 

It is almost a work of supererogation to make many further remarks onthe character of this region--I mean, of course, since we left theFinke. I might, at a word, condemn it as a useless desert. I will, however, scarcely use so sweeping a term. I can truly say it is dry, stony, scrubby, and barren, and this in my former remarks any one whoruns can read. I saw very few living creatures, but it is occasionallyvisited by its native owners, to whom I do not grudge the possessionof it. Occasionally the howls of the native dog (Canis familiaris)--ordingo as he is usually called--were heard, and their footprints insandy places seen. A small species of kangaroo, known as the scrubwallaby, were sometimes seen, and startled from their pursuit ofnibbling at the roots of plants, upon which they exist; but the scrubsbeing so dense, and their movements so rapid, it was utterlyimpossible to get a shot at them. Their greatest enemy--besides thewild black man and the dingo--is the large eagle-hawk, which, thoughflying at an enormous height, is always on the watch; but it is onlywhen the wallaby lets itself out, on to the stony open, that the enemycan swoop down upon it. The eagle trusses it with his talons, smashesits head with its beak to quiet it, and, finally, if a female, fliesaway with the victim to its nest for food for its young, or if a malebird, to some lonely rock or secluded tarn, to gorge its fill alone. Ihave frequently seen these eagles swoop on to one, and, whilestruggling with its prey, have galloped up and secured it myself, before the dazed wallaby could collect its senses. Other birds ofprey, such as sparrow-hawks, owls, and mopokes (a kind of owl), inhabit this region, but they are not numerous. Dull-coloured, smallbirds, that exist entirely without water, are found in the scrubs; andin the mornings they are sometimes noisy, but not melodious, whenthere is a likelihood of rain; and the smallest of Australianornithology, the diamond bird (Amadina) of Gould, is met with atalmost every watering place. Reptiles and insects, as I have said, arescarce, on account of the continual fires the natives use in theirperpetual hunt for food. 

CHAPTER 1. 5. FROM 1ST TO 15TH OCTOBER, 1872. 

A bluff hill. Quandong trees. The mulga tree. Travel South-south-east. Mare left behind. Native peaches. Short of water. Large tree. Timbered ridges. Horses suffer from thirst. Pine-trees. Native encampments. Native paintings in caves. Peculiar crevice. A rock tarn. A liquid prize. Caverns and caves. A pretty oasis. Ripe figs. Recover the mare. Thunder and lightning. Ornamented caves. Hands of glory. A snake in a hole. Heavy dew. Natives burning the country. A rocky eminence. Waterless region. Cheerless view. A race of Salamanders. Circles of fire. Wallaby and pigeons. Wallaby traps. Return to depot. Water diminishing. Glen Edith. Mark trees. The tarn of Auber. Landmarks to it. Seeds sown. Everything in miniature. Journey south. Desert oaks. A better region. Kangaroos and emus. Desert again. A creek channel. Water by scratching. Find more. Splendid grass. Native signs. Farther south. Beautiful green. Abundance of water. Follow the channel. Laurie's Creek. Vale of Tempe. A gap or pass. Without water. Well-grassed plain. Native well. Dry rock holes. Natives' fires. New ranges. High mountain. Return to creek. And Glen Edith. Description of it. 

On starting from Mount Udor, on the 1st October, our road lay at firstover rocks and stones, then for two or three miles through thickscrubs. The country afterwards became a trifle less scrubby, andconsisted of sandhills, timbered with casuarina, and covered, asusual, with triodia. In ten miles we passed a low bluff hill, andcamped near it, without any water. On the road we saw several quandongtrees, and got some of the ripe fruit. The day was warm and sultry;but the night set in cool, if not cold. Mr. Carmichael went to the topof the low bluff, and informed me of the existence of low ridges, bounding the horizon in every direction except to thesouth-south-east, and that the intervening country appeared to becomposed of sandhills, with casuarinas, or mulga scrubs. 

In Baron von Mueller's extraordinary work on Select Extra-tropicalPlants, with indications of their native countries, and some of theiruses, these remarks occur:--"Acacia aneura, Ferd. V. Mueller. Ariddesert--interior of extra tropic Australia. A tree never more thantwenty-five feet high. The principal 'mulga' tree. Mr. S. Dixonpraises it particularly as valuable for fodder of pasture animals;hence it might locally serve for ensilage. Mr. W. Johnson found in thefoliage a considerable quantity of starch and gum, rendering itnutritious. Cattle and sheep browse on the twigs of this, and someallied species, even in the presence of plentiful grass; and are muchsustained by such acacias in seasons of protracted drought. Dromedaries in Australia crave for the mulga as food. Wood excessivelyhard, dark-brown; used, preferentially, by the natives for boomerangs, sticks with which to lift edible roots, and shafts of phragmites, spears, wommerahs, nulla-nullas, and jagged spear ends. Mr. J. H. Maiden determined the percentage of mimosa tannic acid in theperfectly dry bark as 8. 62. " The mulga bears a small woody fruitcalled the mulga apple. It somewhat resembles the taste of apples, andis sweet. If crab apples, as is said, were the originals of all thepresent kinds, I imagine an excellent fruit might be obtained from themulga by cultivation. As this tree is necessarily so often mentionedin my travels, the remarks of so eminent a botanist upon it cannot beotherwise than welcome. 

In the direction of south-south-east Mr. Carmichael said the countryappeared most open. A yellow flower, of the immortelle species, whichI picked at this little bluff, was an old Darling acquaintance; thevegetation, in many respects, resembles that of the River Darling. There was no water at this bluff, and the horses wandered all over thecountry during the night, in mobs of twos and threes. It was middaybefore we got away. For several hours we kept on south-south-east, over sandhills and through casuarina timber, in unvarying monotony. Atabout five o'clock the little mare that had foaled yesterday gave in, and would travel no farther. We were obliged to leave her amongst thesandhills. 

We continued until we had travelled forty miles from Mount Udor, butno signs of a creek or any place likely to produce or hold water hadbeen found. The only difference in the country was that it was nowmore open, though the spinifex was as lively as ever. 

We passed several quandong trees in full fruit, of which we ate agreat quantity; they were the most palatable, and sweetest I have evereaten. We also passed a few Currajong-trees (Brachychiton). At thispoint we turned nearly east. It was, however, now past sundown, toodark to go on any farther, and we had again to encamp without water, our own small supply being so limited that we could have only a thirdof a pint each, and we could not eat anything in consequence. Thehorses had to be very short-hobbled to prevent their straying, and wepassed the night under the umbrage of a colossal Currajong-tree. Theunfortunate horses had now been two days and nights without water, andcould not feed; being so short-hobbled, they were almost in sight ofthe camp in the morning. From the top of a sandhill I saw that theeastern horizon was bounded by timbered ridges, and it was not veryprobable that the creek I was searching for could lie between us andthem. Indeed, I concluded that the creek had exhausted itself, not farfrom where we had left it. The western horizon was now bounded by lowridges, continuous for many miles. I decided to make for our last campon the creek, distant some five-and-twenty miles north-east. At fivemiles after starting, we came upon a mass of eucalypts which were notexactly gum-trees, though of that family, and I thought this might bethe end of the exhausted creek channel, only the timber grewpromiscuously on the tops of the sandhills, as in the lower groundbetween them. There was no appearance of any flow of water ever havingpassed by these trees, and indeed they looked more like giganticmallee-trees than gums, only that they grew separately. They covered aspace of about half a mile wide. From here I saw that some ridges wereright before me, at a short distance, but where our line of marchwould intersect them they seemed so scrubby and stony I wished toavoid them. At one point I discerned a notch or gap. The horses werenow very troublesome to drive, the poor creatures being very bad withthirst. I turned on the bearing that would take me back to the oldcreek, which seemed the only spot in this desolate region where watercould be found, and there we had to dig to get it. At one place on theridges before us appeared a few pine-trees (Callitris) which enlivenany region they inhabit, and there is usually water in theirneighbourhood. The rocks from which the pines grew were much broken;they were yet, however, five or six miles away. We travelled directlytowards them, and upon approaching, I found the rocks upheaved in amost singular manner, and a few gum-trees were visible at the foot ofthe ridge. I directed Carmichael and Robinson to avoid the stones asmuch as possible, while I rode over to see whether there was a creekor any other place where water might be procured. On approaching therocks at the foot of the ridge, I found several enormous overhangingledges of sandstone, under which the natives had evidently beenencamped long and frequently; and there was the channel of a smallwatercourse scarcely more than six feet wide. I rode over to anotheroverhanging ledge and found it formed a verandah wide enough to make alarge cave; upon the walls of this, the natives had painted strangedevices of snakes, principally in white; the children had scratchedimperfect shapes of hands with bits of charcoal. The whole length ofthis cave had frequently been a large encampment. Looking about withsome hopes of finding the place where these children of the wildernessobtained water, I espied about a hundred yards away, and on theopposite side of the little glen or valley, a very peculiar lookingcrevice between two huge blocks of sandstone, and apparently not morethan a yard wide. I rode over to this spot, and to my great delightfound a most excellent little rock tarn, of nearly an oblong shape, containing a most welcome and opportune supply of the fluid I was soanxious to discover. Some green slime rested on a portion of thesurface, but the rest was all clear and pure water. My horse must havethought me mad, and any one who had seen me might have thought I hadsuddenly espied some basilisk, or cockatrice, or mailed saurian; forjust as the horse was preparing to dip his nose in the water he sogreatly wanted, I turned him away and made him gallop off after hisand my companions, who were slowly passing away from this liquidprize. When I hailed, and overtook them, they could scarcely believethat our wants were to be so soon and so agreeably relieved. There wasabundance of water for all our requirements here, but the approach wasso narrow that only two horses could drink at one time, and we hadgreat difficulty in preventing some of the horses from precipitatingthemselves, loads and all, into the inviting fluid. No one who has notexperienced it, can imagine the pleasure which the finding of such atreasure confers on the thirsty, hungry, and weary traveller; all histroubles for the time are at an end. Thirst, that dire affliction thatbesets the wanderer in the Australian wilds, at last is quenched; hishorses, unloaded, are allowed to roam and graze and drink at will, free from the encumbrance of hobbles, and the traveller's otherappetite of hunger is also at length appeased, for no matter what foodone may carry, it is impossible to eat it without water. This wastruly a mental and bodily relief. After our hunger had been satisfiedI took a more extended survey of our surroundings, and found that wehad dropped into a really very pretty little spot. 

Low sandstone hills, broken and split into most extraordinary shapes, forming huge caves and caverns, that once no doubt had been some ofthe cavernous depths of the ocean, were to be seen in every direction;little runnels, with a few gum-trees upon them, constituted thecreeks. Callitris or cypress pines, ornamented the landscape, and afew blood-wood or red gum-trees also enlivened the scene. Noporcupine, but real green grass made up a really pretty picture, tothe explorer at least. This little spot is indeed an oasis. I hadclimbed high hills, traversed untold miles of scrub, and gone in alldirections to try and pick up the channel of a wretched dry creek, when all of a sudden I stumbled upon a perfect little paradise. Ifound the dimensions of this little tarn are not very large, nor isthe quantity of water in it very great, but untouched and in itsnative state it is certainly a permanent water for its native owners. It has probably not been filled since last January or February, and itnow contains amply sufficient water to enable it to last until thosemonths return, provided that no such enormous drinkers as horses drawupon it; in that case it might not last a month. I found the actualwater was fifty feet long, by eight feet wide, and four feet deep; therocks in which the water lies are more than twenty feet high. The mainridges at the back are between 200 and 300 feet high. The nativefig-tree (Ficus orbicularis) grows here most luxuriantly; there areseveral of them in full fruit, which is delicious when thoroughlyripe. I had no thought of deserting this welcome little spot for a fewdays. On the following morning Mr. Carmichael and I loaded apack-horse with water and started back into the scrub to where we leftthe little mare the day before yesterday. With protractor and paper Ifound the spot we left her at bore from this place south 70 degreeswest, and that she was now no more than thirteen or fourteen milesaway, though we had travelled double the distance since we left her. We therefore travelled upon that bearing, and at thirteen and a halfmiles we cut our former track at about a quarter of a mile from wherewe left the mare. We soon picked up her track and found she hadwandered about a mile, although hobbled, from where we left her. Wesaw her standing, with her head down, under an oak tree trulydistressed. The poor little creature was the picture of misery, hermilk was entirely gone--she was alive, and that was all that could besaid of her. She swallowed up the water we brought with the greatestavidity; and I believe could have drank as much as a couple of camelscould have carried to her. We let her try to feed for a bit with theother three horses, and then started back for the tarn. On this linewe did not intersect any of the eucalyptus timber we had passedthrough yesterday. The mare held up very well until we were close tothe camp, when she gave in again; but we had to somewhat severelypersuade her to keep moving, and at last she had her reward by beingleft standing upon the brink of the water, where she was [like Cyruswhen Queen Thomeris had his head cut off into a receptacle filled withblood] enabled to drink her fill. 

In the night heavy storm-clouds gathered o'er us, and vivid lightningsplayed around the rocks near the camp: a storm came up and seemed topart in two, one half going north and the other south; but just beforedaybreak we were awakened by a crash of thunder that seemed to splitthe hills; and we heard the wrack as though the earth and sky wouldmingle; but only a few drops of rain fell, too little to leave anywater, even on the surface of the flat rocks close to the camp. Thisis certainly an extraordinary climate. I do not believe a week everpasses without a shower of rain, but none falls to do any good: onegood fallen in three or even six months, beginning now, would beinfinitely more gratifying, to me at least; but I suppose I must takeit as I find it. The rain that does fall certainly cools theatmosphere a little, which is a partial benefit. 

I found several more caves to-day up in the rocks, and noticed thatthe natives here have precisely the same method of ornamenting them asthe natives of the Barrier Range and mountains east of the Darling. You see the representation of the human hand here, as there, upon thewalls of the caves: it is generally coloured either red or black. Thedrawing is done by filling the mouth with charcoal powder if thedevice is to be black, if red with red ochre powder, damping the wallwhere the mark is to be left, and placing the palm of the hand againstit, with the fingers stretched out; the charcoal or ochre powder isthen blown against the back of the hand; when it is withdrawn, itleaves the space occupied by the hand and fingers clean, while thesurrounding portions of the wall are all black or red, as the case maybe. One device represents a snake going into a hole: the hole isactually in the rock, while the snake is painted on the wall, and thespectator is to suppose that its head is just inside the hole; thebody of the reptile is curled round and round the hole, though itsbreadth is out of all proportion to its length, being seven or eightinches thick, and only two or three feet long. It is painted withcharcoal ashes which had been mixed up with some animal's or reptile'sfat. Mr. Carmichael left upon the walls a few choice specimens of thewhite man's art, which will help, no doubt, to teach the young nativeidea, how to shoot either in one direction or another. 

To-day it rained in light and fitful shallows, which, as usual, wereof no use, except indeed to cause a heavy dew which wet all ourblankets and things, for we always camp without tent or tarpaulinwhenever it does not actually rain. The solar beams of morning soonevaporated the dew. To the west-south-west the natives were hunting, and as usual burning the spinifex before them. They do not seem tocare much for our company; for ever since we left the Glen of Palms, the cave-dwelling, reptile-eating Troglodytes have left us severelyalone. As there was a continuous ridge for miles to the westward, Idetermined to visit it; for though this little tarn, that I had soopportunely found, was a most valuable discovery, yet the number ofhorses I had were somewhat rapidly reducing the water supply, and Icould plainly perceive that, with such a strain upon it, it could notlast much more than a month, if that; I must therefore endeavour tofind some other watered place, where next I may remove. 

On the morning of the 7th October it was evident a warm day wasapproaching. Mr. Carmichael and I started away to a small rockyeminence, which bore a great resemblance to the rocks immediatelybehind this camp, and in consequence we hoped to find more waterthere. The rocks bore south 62 degrees west from camp; we travelledover sandhills, through scrub, triodia, and some casuarina country, until we reached the hill in twenty miles. It was composed of brokenred sandstone rock, being isolated from the main ridge; other similarheaps were in the vicinity. 

We soon discovered that there was neither water nor any place to holdit. Having searched all about, we went away to some other ridges, withexactly the same result; and at dark we had to encamp in the scrubs, having travelled forty miles on fifty courses. The thermometer hadstood at 91 degrees in the shade, where we rested the horses in themiddle of the day. Natives' smokes were seen mostly round the base ofsome other ridges to the south-east, which I determined to visitto-morrow; as the fires were there, natives must or should be also;and as they require water to exist, we might find their hiddensprings. It seemed evident that only in the hills or rocky reservoirswater could be found. 

We slept under the shadow of a hill, and mounted to its top in themorning. The view was anything but cheering; ridges, like islands in asea of scrub, appeared in connection with this one; some distance awayanother rose to the south-east. We first searched those near us, andleft them in disgust, for those farther away. At eight or nine mileswe reached the latter, and another fruitless search was gone through. We then went to another and another, walking over the stones andriding through the scrubs. We found some large rocky places, wherewater might remain for many weeks, after being filled; but when suchan occurrence ever had taken place, or ever would take place again, itwas impossible to tell. We had wandered into and over such frightfulrocky and ungodly places, that it appeared useless to search fartherin such a region, as it seemed utterly impossible for water to existin it all. Nevertheless, the natives were about, burning, burning, ever burning; one would think they were of the fabled salamander race, and lived on fire instead of water. The fires were starting up hereand there around us in fresh and narrowing circles; it seems as thoughthe natives can only get water from the hollow spouts of some treesand from the roots of others, for on the surface of the earth there isnone. We saw a few rock wallaby, a different variety to the scrub oropen sandhill kinds. Bronze-winged pigeons also were occasionallystartled as we wandered about the rocks; these birds must have water, but they never drink except at sundown, and occasionally just beforesunrise, then they fly so swiftly, with unerring precision, on theirfilmy wings, to the place they know so well will supply them; andthirty, forty, or fifty miles of wretched scrub, that would take apoor human being and his horse a whole day to accomplish, are passedover with the quickness of thought. The birds we flushed up wouldprobably dart across the scrubs to the oasis we had so recently found. Our horses were getting bad and thirsty; the day was warm; 92 degreesin the shade, in thirst and wretchedness, is hot enough, for any pooranimal or man either. But man enters these desolate regions to pleasehimself or satisfy his desire for ambition to win for himself--what? amedal, a record, a name? Well, yes, dear reader, these may enter intohis thoughts as parts of a tangible recognition of his labours; but anobler idea also actuates him--either to find, for the benefit ofthose who come after him, some beauteous spots where they may dwell;or if these regions can't supply them, of deserts only can he tell;but the unfortunate lower is forced into such frightful privations toplease the higher animals. We now turned up towards the north-west, amongst scrubs, sandhills, and more stony ridges, where anotherfruitless search ended as before. Now to the east of us rose a morecontinuous ridge, which we followed under its (base) foot, hopingagainst hope to meet some creek or gully with water. Gullies we saw, but neither creeks or water. We continued on this line till we struckour outgoing track, and as it was again night, we encamped withoutwater. We had travelled in a triangle. To-day's march was forty-threemiles, and we were yet twenty-nine from the tarn--apparently the onlywater existing in this extraordinary and terrible region. 

In one or two places to-day, passing through some of the burningscrubs and spinifex, we had noticed the fresh footprints of severalnatives. Of course they saw us, but they most perseveringly shunnedus, considering us probably far too low a type of animal for theirsociety. We also saw to-day dilapidated old yards, where they hadformerly yarded emu or wallaby, though we saw none of their wurleys, or mymys, or gunyahs, or whatever name suits best. The above are allnames of the same thing, of tribes of natives, of different parts ofthe Continent--as Lubra, Gin, Nungo, etc. , are for woman. No doubtthese natives carry water in wallaby or other animals' skins duringtheir burning hunts, for they travel great distances in a day, walkingand burning, and picking up everything alive or roasted as they go, and bring the game into the general camp at night. We passed throughthree different lines of conflagrations to-day. I only wish I couldcatch a native, or a dozen, or a thousand; it would be better to dieor conquer in a pitched battle for water, than be for ever fightingthese direful scrubs and getting none. The following morning the poorhorses looked wretched in the extreme; to remain long in such a regionwithout water is very severe upon them; it is a wonder they are ableto carry us so well. From this desert camp our depot bore north 40degrees east. The horses were so exhausted that, though we startedearly enough, it was late in the afternoon when we had accomplishedthe twenty-nine or thirty miles that brought us at last to the tarn. Altogether they had travelled 120 miles without a drink. The water inthe tarn had evidently shrunk. The day was warm--thermometer 92degrees in shadiest place at the depot. A rest after the fatigue ofthe last few days was absolutely necessary before we made a freshattempt in some new locality. 

(ILLUSTRATION: GLEN EDITH. )

It is only partly a day's rest--for I, at least, have plenty to do;but it is a respite, and we can drink our fill of water. And oh! whata pleasure, what a luxury that is! How few in civilisation will drinkwater when they can get anything else. Let them try going without, inthe explorer's sense of the expression, and then see how they willlong for it! The figs on the largest tree, near the cave opposite, arequite ripe and falling; neither Carmichael nor Robinson care for them, but I eat a good many, though I fancy they are not quite wholesome fora white man's digestive organs; at first, they act as an aperient, butsubsequently have an opposite effect. I called this charming littleoasis Glen Edith, after one of my nieces. I marked two gum-trees atthis camp, one "Giles 24", and another "Glen Edith 24 Oct 9, 72". Mr. Carmichael and Robinson also marked one with their names. Thereceptacle in which I found the water I have called the Tarn of Auber, after Allan Poe's beautiful lines, in which that name appears, as Ithought them appropriate to the spot. He says:--

 "It was in the drear month of October, The leaves were all crisped and sere, Adown by the Tarn of Auber, In the misty mid regions of Weir. "

If these are not the misty mid regions of Weir, I don't know wherethey are. There are two heaps of broken sandstone rocks, with cypresspines growing about them, which will always be a landmark for anyfuture traveller who may seek the wild seclusion of these sequesteredcaves. The bearing of the water from them is south 51 degrees west, and it is about a mile on that bearing from the northern heap; thatwith a glance at my map would enable any ordinary bushman to find it. I sowed a quantity of vegetable seeds here, also seeds of theTasmanian blue gum-tree, some wattles and clover, rye andprairie-grass. In the bright gleams of the morning, in this Australland of dawning, it was beautiful to survey this little spot;everything seemed in miniature here--little hills, little glen, littletrees, little tarn, and little water. Though the early mornings werecool and pleasant, the days usually turned out just the opposite. Onthe 11th Mr. Carmichael and I got fresh horses, and I determined totry the country more to the south, and leaving Alec Robinson and thelittle dog Monkey again in charge of glen, and camp, and tarn, away wewent in that direction. At first we travelled over sandhills, timberedwith the fine Casuarina decaisneana, or desert oak; we then met someeucalyptus-trees growing promiscuously on the tops of the sandhills, as well as in the hollows. At twelve miles we rode over a low ridge;the country in advance appeared no more inviting than that alreadytravelled. Descending to the lower ground, however, we entered upon abit of better country, covered with green grass, there was also somethick mulga scrub upon it. Here we saw a few kangaroos and emus, butcould not get a shot at them. Beyond this we entered timbered countryagain, the desert oak being quite a desert sign. In a few milesfarther another ridge fronted us, and a trifle on our left lay ahollow, or valley, which seemed to offer the best road, but we had toride through some very scrubby gullies, stony, and covered withspinifex. It eventually formed the valley of a small creek, which soonhad a few gum-trees on it. After following this about four miles, wesaw a place where the sand was damp, and got some water by scratchingwith our hands. The supply was insufficient, and we went farther downand found a small hole with just enough for our three horses, and now, having found a little, we immediately wanted to find a great dealmore. At twenty-six miles from the tarn we found a place where thenatives had dug, and there seemed a good supply, so we camped therefor the night. The grass along this creek was magnificent, being abouteight inches high and beautifully green, the old grass having beenburnt some time ago. It was a most refreshing sight to ourtriodia-accustomed eyes; at twelve o'clock the thermometer stood at 94degrees in the shade. The trend of this little creek, and the valleyin which it exists, is to the south-east. Having found water here, wewere prepared to find numerous traces of natives, and soon saw oldcamps and wurleys, and some recent footmarks. I was exceedinglygratified to find this water, as I hoped it would eventually enable meto get out of the wretched bed of sand and scrub into which we hadbeen forced since leaving the Finke, and which evidently occupies suchan enormous extent of territory. Our horses fed all night close athand, and we were in our saddles early enough. I wanted to go west, and the further west the better; but we decided to follow the creekand see what became of it, and if any more waters existed in it. Wefound that it meandered through a piece of open plain, splendidlygrassed, and delightful to gaze upon. How beautiful is the colour ofgreen! What other colour could even Nature have chosen with which toembellish the face of the earth? How, indeed, would red, or blue, oryellow pall upon the eye! But green, emerald green, is the loveliestof all Nature's hues. The soil of this plain was good and firm. Thecreek had now worn a deep channel, and in three miles from where wecamped we came upon the top of a high red bank, with a very nicelittle water-hole underneath. There was abundance of water for 100 or200 horses for a month or two, and plenty more in the sand below. Three other ponds were met lower down, and I believe water can alwaysbe got by digging. We followed the creek for a mile or two farther, and found that it soon became exhausted, as casuarina and triodiasandhills environed the little plain, and after the short course ofscarcely ten miles, the little creek became swallowed up by thosewater-devouring monsters. This was named Laurie's Creek. 

There was from 6000 to 10, 000 acres of fine grass land in this littleplain, and it was such a change from the sterile, triodia, and sandycountry outside it, I could not resist calling it the Vale of Tempe. We left the exhausted creek, and in ten miles from our camp we enteredon and descended into another valley, which was open, but had no signsof any water. From a hill I saw some ridges stretching away to thesouth and south-west, and to the west also appeared broken ridges. Idecided to travel about south-west, as it appeared the least stony. Ineight miles we had met the usual country. At eighteen we turned thehorses out for an hour on a burnt patch, during which the thermometerstood at 94 degrees in the shade; we then left for some ridges througha small gap or pass between two hills, which formed into a smallcreek-channel. As it was now dark, we camped near the pass, withoutwater, having travelled thirty-five miles. In the morning we found thecountry in front of us to consist of a small well grassed plain, whichwas as green, as at the last camp. The horses rambled in search ofwater up into a small gully, which joins this one; it had a fewgum-trees on it. We saw a place where the natives had dug for water, but not very recently. We scratched out a lot of sand with our hands, and some water percolated through, but the hole was too deep to getany out for the horses, as we had no means of removing the sand, having no shovel. Upon searching farther up the gully we found somegood-sized rock-holes, but unfortunately they were all dry. We nextascended a hill to view the surrounding country, and endeavour todiscover if there was any feature in any direction to induce us tovisit, and where we might find a fresh supply of water. There wereseveral fires raging in various directions upon the southern horizon, and the whole atmosphere was thick with a smoky haze. After a long andanxious scrutiny through the smoke far, very far away, a little to thewest of south, I descried the outline of a range of hills, and rightin the smoke of one fire an exceedingly high and abruptly-endingmountain loomed. To the south east-wards other ranges appeared; theyseemed to lie nearly north and south. 

The high mountain was very remote; it must be at least seventy orseventy-five miles away, with nothing apparently between but a countrysimilar to that immediately before and behind us; that is to say, sandhills and scrub. I was, however, delighted to perceive any featurefor which to make as a medium point, and which might help to changethe character and monotony of the country over which I have beenwandering so long. I thought it not improbable that some extensivewatercourses may proceed from these new ranges which might lead me atlast away to the west. For the present, not being able to get water atthis little glen, although I believe a supply can be obtained with ashovel, I decided to return to the tarn at Glen Edith, which was nowfifty-five miles away, remove the camp to the newly-found creek at theVale of Tempe, and then return here, open out this watering place witha shovel, and make a straight line for the newly-discovered highmountain to the south. By the time these conclusions had been arrivedat, and our wanderings about the rocks completed, it was nearlymidday; and as we had thirty-five miles to travel to get back to thecreek, it took us all the remainder of the day to do so; and it waslate when we again encamped upon its friendly banks. The thermometerto-day had stood at 96 degrees. We now had our former tracks to returnupon to the tarn. The morning was cool and pleasant, and we arrived atthe depot early. Alec Robinson informed me that he believed somenatives had been prowling about the camp in our absence, as the littledog had been greatly perturbed during two of the nights we were away. It was very possible that some natives had come to the tarn for water, as well as to spy out who and what and how many vile and wickedintruders had found their way into this secluded spot; but as theymust have walked about on the rocks they left no traces of theirvisit. 

OCTOBER 15TH. 

This morning's meal was to be the last we should make at our friendlylittle tarn, whose opportune waters, ripe figs, miniature mountains, and imitation fortresses, will long linger in my recollection. Opposite the rocks in which the water lies, and opposite the campalso, is a series of small fort-like stony eminences, standing apart;these form one side of the glen; the other is formed by the rocks atthe base of the main ridge, where the camp and water are situated. This really was a most delightful little spot, though it certainly hadone great nuisance, which is almost inseparable from pine-trees, namely ants. These horrid pests used to crawl into and over everythingand everybody, by night as well as by day. The horses took their lastdrink at the little sweet-watered tarn, and we moved away for our newhome to the south. 

CHAPTER 1. 6. FROM 15TH OCTOBER, 1872 TO 31ST JANUARY, 1873. 

Move the camp to new creek. Revisit the pass. Hornets and diamond birds. More ornamented caves. Map study. Start for the mountain. A salt lake. A barrier. Brine ponds. Horses nearly lost. Exhausted horses. Follow the lake. A prospect wild and weird. Mount Olga. Sleepless animals. A day's rest. A National Gallery. Signal for natives. The lake again. High hill westward. Mount Unapproachable. McNicol's range. Heat increasing. Sufferings and dejection of the horses. Worrill's Pass. Glen Thirsty. Food all gone. Review of our situation. Horse staked. Pleasure of a bath. A journey eastward. Better regions. A fine creek. Fine open country. King's Creek. Carmichael's Crag. Penny's Creek. Stokes's Creek. A swim. Bagot's Creek. Termination of the range. Trickett's Creek. George Gill's range. Petermann's Creek. Return. Two natives. A host of aborigines. Break up the depot. Improvement in the horses. Carmichael's resolve. Levi's Range. Follow the Petermann. Enter a glen. Up a tree. Rapid retreat. Escape glen. A new creek. Fall over a bank. Middleton's Pass. Good country. Friendly natives. Rogers's Pass. Seymour's Range. A fenced-in water-hole. Briscoe's Pass. The Finke. Resight the pillar. Remarks on the Finke. Reach the telegraph line. Native boys. I buy one. The Charlotte Waters. Colonel Warburton. Arrive at the Peake. News of Dick. Reach Adelaide. 

It was late in the day when we left Glen Edith, and consequently verymuch later by the time we had unpacked all the horses at the end ofour twenty-nine mile stage; it was then too dark to reach the lower orbest water-holes. To-day there was an uncommon reversal of the usualorder in the weather--the early part of the day being hot and sultry, but towards evening the sky became overcast and cloudy, and theevening set in cold and windy. Next morning we found that one horsehad staked himself in the coronet very severely, and that he was quitelame. I got some mulga wood out of the wound, but am afraid there ismuch still remaining. This wood, used by the natives for spear-heads, contains a virulent poisonous property, and a spear or stake woundwith it is very dangerous. The little mare that foaled at Mount Udor, and was such an object of commiseration, has picked up wonderfully, and is now in good working condition. I have another mare, Marzetti, soon to foal; but as she is fat, I do not anticipate having to destroyher progeny. We did not move the camp to-day. Numbers of bronze-wingedpigeons came to drink, and we shot several of them. The following dayMr. Carmichael and I again mounted our horses, taking with us a week'ssupply of rations, and started off intending to visit the highmountain seen at our last farthest point. We left Alec Robinson againin charge of the camp, as he had now got quite used to it, and said heliked it. He always had my little dog Monkey for a companion. Whentravelling through the spinifex we carried the little animal. He is anexcellent watchdog, and not a bird can come near the camp without hisgiving warning. Alec had plenty of firearms and ammunition to defendhimself with, in case of an attack from the natives. This, however, Idid not anticipate; indeed, I wished they would come (in a friendlyway), and had instructed Alec to endeavour to detain one or two ofthem until my return if they should chance to approach. Alec was avery strange, indeed disagreeable and sometimes uncivil, sort of man;he had found our travels so different from his preconceived ideas, ashe thought he was going on a picnic, and he often grumbled anddeclared he would like to go back again. However, to remain at thecamp, with nothing whatever to do and plenty to eat, admirably suitedhim, and I felt no compunction in leaving him by himself. I would nothave asked him to remain if I were in any way alarmed at his position. 

We travelled now by a slightly different route, more easterly, asthere were other ridges in that direction, and we might find anotherand better watering place than that at the pass. It is only at or nearridges in this strange region that the traveller can expect to findwater, as in the sandy beds of scrub intervening between them, waterwould simply sink away. We passed through some very thick mulga, which, being mostly dead, ripped our pack-bags, clothes, and skin, aswe had continually to push the persistent boughs and branches aside topenetrate it. We reached a hill in twenty miles, and saw at a glancethat no favourable signs of obtaining water existed, for it was merelya pile of loose stones or rocks standing up above the scrubs around. The view was desolate in the extreme; we had now come thirty miles, but we pushed on ten miles for another hill, to the south-east, andafter penetrating the usual scrub, we reached its base in the dark, and camped. In the morning I climbed the hill, but no water could beseen or procured. This hill was rugged with broken granite boulders, scrubby with mulga and bushes, and covered with triodia to its summit. To the south a vague and strange horizon was visible; it appearedflat, as though a plain of great extent existed there, but as themirage played upon it, I could not make anything of it. My old friendthe high mountain loomed large and abrupt at a great distance off, andit bore 8 degrees 30' west from here, too great a distance for us toproceed to it at once, without first getting water for our horses, asit was possible that no water might exist even in the neighbourhood ofsuch a considerable mountain. The horses rambled in the night; whenthey were found we started away for the little pass and glen where weknew water was to be got, and which was now some thirty miles away tothe west-north-west. We reached it somewhat late. The day was hot, thermometer 98 degrees in shade, and the horses very thirsty, but theycould get no water until we had dug a place for them. Although we hadreached our camping ground our day's work was only about to commence. We were not long in obtaining enough water for ourselves, such as itwas--thick and dirty with a nauseous flavour--but first we had to tiethe horses up, to prevent them jumping in on us. We found to our griefthat but a poor supply was to be expected, and though we had not todig very deep, yet we had to remove an enormous quantity of sand, soas to create a sufficient surface to get water to run in, and had todig a tank twenty feet long by six feet deep, and six feet wide at thebottom, though at the top it was much wider. I may remark--and what Inow say applies to almost every other water I ever got by digging inall my wanderings--that whenever we commenced to dig, a swarm of largeand small red hornets immediately came around us, and, generallyspeaking, diamond birds (Amadina) would also come and twitter near, and when water was got, would drink in great numbers. With regard tothe hornets, though they swarmed round our heads and faces in clouds, no one was ever stung by them, nature and instinct informing them thatwe were their friends. We worked and waited for two hours before oneof our three horses could obtain a drink. The water came so slowly inthat it took nearly all the night before the last animal's thirst wasassuaged, as by the time the third got a drink, the first was ready tobegin again, and they kept returning all through the night. We restedour horses here to-day to allow them to fill themselves with food, asno doubt they will require all the support they can get to sustainthem in their work before we reach the distant mountain. We passed theday in enlarging the tank, and were glad to find that, though noincrease in the supply of water was observable, still there seemed nodiminution, as now a horse could fill himself at one spell. We took astroll up into the rocks and gullies of the ridges, and found aTroglodytes' cave ornamented with the choicest specimens of aboriginalart. The rude figures of snakes were the principal objects, but hands, and devices for shields were also conspicuous. One hieroglyph was moststriking; it consisted of two Roman numerals--a V and an I, placedtogether and representing the figure VI; they were both daubed overwith spots, and were painted with red ochre. Several large rock-holeswere seen, but they had all long lain dry. A few cypress pines grewupon the rocks in several places. The day was decidedly hot; thethermometer stood at 100 degrees in the shade at three o'clock, and wehad to fix up a cloth for an awning to get sufficient shade to situnder. Our only intellectual occupation was the study of a small mapof Australia, showing the routes of the Australian explorers. Howoften we noted the facility with which other and more fortunatetravellers dropped upon fine creeks and large rivers. We could onlyenvy them their good fortune, and hope the future had some prizes instore for us also. The next morning, after taking three hours to waterour horses, we started on the bearing of the high mount, which couldnot be seen from the low ground, the bearing being south 18 degreeswest. We got clear of the low hills of the glen, and almostimmediately entered thick scrubs, varied by high sandhills, withcasuarina and triodia on them. At twelve miles I noticed the sandhillsbecame denuded of timber, and on our right a small and apparentlygrassy plain was visible; I took these signs as a favourableindication of a change of country. At three miles farther we had awhite salt channel right in front of us, with some sheets of water init; upon approaching I found it a perfect bog, and the water brineitself. We went round this channel to the left, and at length found aplace firm enough to cross. We continued upon our course, and onascending a high sandhill I found we had upon our right hand, andstretching away to the west, an enormous salt expanse, and it appearedas if we had hit exactly upon the eastern edge of it, at which werejoiced greatly for a time. Continuing on our course over treelesssandhills for a mile or two, we found we had not escaped this featurequite so easily, for it was now right in our road; it appeared, however, to be bounded by sandhills a little more to the left, eastwards; so we went in that direction, but at each succeeding milewe saw more and more of this objectionable feature; it continuallypushed us farther and farther to the east, until, having travelledabout fifteen miles, and had it constantly on our right, it sweptround under some more sandhills which hid it from us, till it lay eastand west right athwart our path. It was most perplexing to me to bethus confronted by such an obstacle. We walked a distance on itssurface, and to our weight it seemed firm enough, but the instant wetried our horses they almost disappeared. The surface was dry andencrusted with salt, but brine spurted out at every step the horsestook. We dug a well under a sandhill, but only obtained brine. 

This obstruction was apparently six or seven miles across, but whetherwhat we took for its opposite shores were islands or the main, I couldnot determine. We saw several sandhill islands, some very high anddeeply red, to which the mirage gave the effect of their floating inan ocean of water. Farther along the shore eastwards were several highred sandhills; to these we went and dug another well and got morebrine. We could see the lake stretching away east or east-south-eastas far as the glasses could carry the vision. Here we made anotherattempt to cross, but the horses were all floundering about in thebottomless bed of this infernal lake before we could look round. Imade sure they would be swallowed up before our eyes. We werepowerless to help them, for we could not get near owing to the bog, and we sank up over our knees, where the crust was broken, in hot saltmud. All I could do was to crack my whip to prevent the horses fromceasing to exert themselves, and although it was but a few momentsthat they were in this danger, to me it seemed an eternity. Theystaggered at last out of the quagmire, heads, backs, saddles, everything covered with blue mud, their mouths were filled with saltmud also, and they were completely exhausted when they reached firmground. We let them rest in the shade of some quandong trees, whichgrew in great numbers round about here. From Mount Udor to the shoresof this lake the country had been continually falling. The northernbase of each ridge, as we travelled, seemed higher by many feet thanthe southern, and I had hoped to come upon something better than this. I thought such a continued fall of country might lead to aconsiderable watercourse or freshwater basin; but this salt bog wasdreadful, the more especially as it prevented me reaching the mountainwhich appeared so inviting beyond. 

Not seeing any possibility of pushing south, and thinking after all itmight not be so far round the lake to the west, I turned to where wehad struck the first salt channel, and resolved to try what a morewesterly line would produce. The channel in question was now somefifteen miles away to the north-westward, and by the time we got backthere the day was done and "the darkness had fallen from the wings ofnight. " We had travelled nearly fifty miles, the horses were almostdead; the thermometer stood at 100 degrees in the shade when we restedunder the quandongs. In the night blankets were unendurable. Had therebeen any food for them the horses could not eat for thirst, and weretoo much fatigued by yesterday's toil to go out of sight of ourcamping place. We followed along the course of the lake north of westfor seven miles, when we were checked by a salt arm runningnorth-eastwards; this we could not cross until we had gone up it adistance of three miles. Then we made for some low ridges lyingwest-south-west and reached them in twelve miles. There was neitherwatercourse, channel, nor rock-holes; we wandered for several milesround the ridges, looking for water, but without success, and got backon our morning's tracks when we had travelled thirty miles. From thetop of these ridges the lake could be seen stretching away to the westor west-south-west in vast proportions, having several salt armsrunning back from it at various distances. Very far to the west wasanother ridge, but it was too distant for me to reach now, as to-nightthe horses would have been two nights without water, and theprobability was they would get none there if they reached it. Idetermined to visit it, however, but I felt I must first return to thetank in the little glen to refresh the exhausted horses. From where weare, the prospect is wild and weird, with the white bed of the greatlake sweeping nearly the whole southern horizon. The country near thelake consists of open sandhills, thickly bushed and covered withtriodia; farther back grew casuarinas and mulga scrubs. 

It was long past the middle of the day when I descended from the hill. We had no alternative but to return to the only spot where we knewwater was to be had; this was now distant twenty-one miles to thenorth-east, so we departed in a straight line for it. I was heartilyannoyed at being baffled in my attempt to reach the mountain, which Inow thought more than ever would offer a route out of this terribleregion; but it seemed impossible to escape from it. I named thiseminence Mount Olga, and the great salt feature which obstructed meLake Amadeus, in honour of two enlightened royal patrons of science. The horses were now exceedingly weak; the bogging of yesterday hadtaken a great deal of strength out of them, and the heat of the lasttwo days had contributed to weaken them (the thermometer to-day wentup to 101 degrees in shade). They could now only travel slowly, sothat it was late at night when we reached the little tank. Fifty milesover such disheartening country to-day has been almost too much forthe poor animals. In the tank there was only sufficient water for onehorse; the others had to be tied up and wait their turns to drink, andthe water percolated so slowly through the sand it was nearly midnightbefore they were all satisfied and begun to feed. What wonderfulcreatures horses are! They can work for two and three days and gothree nights without water, but they can go for ever without sleep; itis true they do sleep, but equally true that they can go withoutsleeping. If I took my choice of all creation for a beast to guard andgive me warning while I slept, I would select the horse, for he is themost sleepless creature Nature has made. Horses seem to know this; forif you should by chance catch one asleep he seems very indignanteither with you or himself. 

It was absolutely necessary to give our horses a day's rest, as theylooked so much out of sorts this morning. A quarter of the day wasspent in watering them, and by that time it was quite hot, and we hadto erect an awning for shade. We were overrun by ants, and pestered byflies, so in self-defence we took another walk into the gullies, revisited the aboriginal National Gallery of paintings andhieroglyphics, and then returned to our shade and our ants. Again wepored over the little German map, and again envied more prosperousexplorers. The thermometer had stood at 101 degrees in the shade, andthe greatest pleasure we experienced that day was to see the orb ofday descend. The atmosphere had been surcharged all day with smoke, and haze hung over all the land, for the Autochthones were ever busyat their hunting fires, especially upon the opposite side of the greatlake; but at night the blaze of nearer ones kept up a perpetual light, and though the fires may have been miles away they appeared to bequite close. I also had fallen into the custom of the country, and hadset fire to several extensive beds of triodia, which had burned withunabated fury; so brilliant, indeed, was the illumination that I couldsee to read by the light. I kindled these fires in hopes some of thenatives might come and interview us, but no doubt in such a poorlywatered region the native population cannot be great, and the few whodo inhabit it had evidently abandoned this particular portion of ituntil rains should fall and enable them to hunt while water remainedin it. 

Last night, the 23rd October, was sultry, and blankets utterlyuseless. The flies and ants were wide awake, and the only thing wecould congratulate ourselves upon, was the absence of mosquitoes. Atdawn the thermometer stood at 70 degrees and a warm breeze blew gentlyfrom the north. The horses were found early, but as it took nearlythree hours to water them we did not leave the glen till past eighto'clock. This time I intended to return to the ridges we had lastleft, and which now bore a little to the west of south-west, twenty-one miles away. We made a detour so as to inspect some otherridges near where we had been last. Stony and low ridgy ground wasfirst met, but the scrubs were all around. At fifteen miles we cameupon a little firm clayey plain with some salt bushes, and it also hadupon it some clay pans, but they had long been dry. We found thenorthern face of the ridges just as waterless as the southern, whichwe had previously searched. The far hills or ridges to the west, whichI now intended to visit, bore nearly west. Another salt bush plain wasnext crossed; this was nearly three miles long. We now gave the horsesan hour's spell, the thermometer showing 102 degrees in the shade;then, re-saddling, we went on, and it was nine o'clock at night whenwe found ourselves under the shadows of the hills we had steered for, having them on the north of us. 

I searched in the dark, but could find no feature likely to supply uswith water; we had to encamp in a nest of triodia without any water, having travelled forty-eight miles through the usual kind of countrythat occupies this region's space. At daylight the thermometerregistered 70 degrees, that being the lowest during the night. Onascending the hill above us, there was but one feature to gazeupon--the lake still stretching away, not only in undiminished, butevidently increasing size, towards the west and north-west. Severallateral channels were thrown out from the parent bed at variousdistances, some broad and some narrow. A line of ridges, with one hillmuch more prominent than any I had seen about this country, appearedclose down upon the shores of the lake; it bore from the hill I stoodupon south 68 degrees west, and was about twenty miles off. A longbroad salt arm, however, ran up at the back of it between it and me, but just opposite there appeared a narrow place that I thought wemight cross to reach it. 

The ridge I was on was red granite, but there was neither creek norrock-hole about it. We now departed for the high hill westward, crossing a very boggy salt channel with great difficulty, at fivemiles; in five more we came to the arm. It appeared firm, butunfortunately one of the horses got frightfully bogged, and it wasonly by the most frantic exertions that we at length got him out. Thebottom of this dreadful feature, if it has a bottom, seems composedentirely of hot, blue, briny mud. Our exertions in extricating thehorse made us extremely thirsty; the hill looked more inviting thenearer we got to it, so, still hoping to reach it, I followed up thearm for about seven miles in a north west direction. It proved, however, quite impassable, and it seemed utterly useless to attempt toreach the range, as we could not tell how far we might have to travelbefore we could get round the arm. I believe it continues in asemicircle and joins the lake again, thus isolating the hill I wishedto visit. This now seemed an island it was impossible to reach. Wewere sixty-five miles away from the only water we knew of, with nolikelihood of any nearer; there might certainly be water at the mountI wished to reach, but it was unapproachable, and I called it by thatname; no doubt, had I been able to reach it, my progress would stillhave been impeded to the west by the huge lake itself. I could get nowater except brine upon its shores, and I had no appliances to distilthat; could I have done so, I would have followed this feature, hideous as it is, as no doubt sooner or later some watercourses mustfall into it either from the south or the west. We were, however, ahundred miles from the camp, with only one man left there, andsixty-five from the nearest water. I had no choice but to retreat, baffled, like Eyre with his Lake Torrens in 1840, at all points. Onthe southern shore of the lake, and apparently a very long way off, arange of hills bore south 30 degrees west; this range had a pinkishappearance and seemed of some length. Mr. Carmichael wished me to callit McNicol's Range, after a friend of his, and this I did. We turnedour wretched horses' heads once more in the direction of our littletank, and had good reason perhaps to thank our stars that we got awayalive from the lone unhallowed shore of this pernicious sea. We kepton twenty-eight miles before we camped, and looked at two or threeplaces, on the way ineffectually, for some signs of water, having goneforty-seven miles; thermometer in shade 103 degrees, the heatincreasing one degree a day for several days. When we camped we werehungry, thirsty, tired, covered all over with dry salt mud; so that itis not to be wondered at if our spirits were not at a very high point, especially as we were making a forced retreat. The night was hot, cloudy, and sultry, and rain clouds gathered in the sky. At about 1a. M. The distant rumblings of thunder were heard to thewest-north-west, and I was in hopes some rain might fall, as it wasapparently approaching; the thunder was not loud, but the lightningwas most extraordinarily vivid; only a few drops of rain fell, and therest of the night was even closer and more sultry than before. 

Ere the stars had left the sky we were in our saddles again; thehorses looked most pitiable objects, their flanks drawn in, thenatural vent was distended to an open and extraordinary cavity; theireyes hollow and sunken, which is always the case with horses whengreatly in want of water. Two days of such stages will thoroughly testthe finest horse that ever stepped. We had thirty-six miles yet totravel to reach the water. The horses being so jaded, it was late inthe afternoon when they at last crawled into the little glen; the lastfew miles being over stones made the pace more slow. Not even theirknowledge of the near presence of water availed to inspirit them inthe least; probably they knew they would have to wait for hours at thetank, when they arrived, before their cravings for water could beappeased. The thermometer to-day was 104 degrees in the shade. When wearrived the horses had walked 131 miles without a drink, and it was nowonder that the poor creatures were exhausted. When one horse haddrank what little water there was, we had to re-dig the tank, for thewind or some other cause had knocked a vast amount of the sand into itagain. Some natives also had visited the place while we were away, their fresh tracks were visible in the sand around, and on the top ofthe tank. They must have stared to see such a piece of excavation intheir territory. When the horses did get water, two of them rolled, and groaned, and kicked, so that I thought they were going to die; onewas a mare, she seemed the worst, another was a strong young horsewhich had carried me well, the third was my old favouriteriding-horse; this time he had only carried the pack, and was badlybogged; he was the only one that did not appear distressed when filledwith water, the other two lay about in evident pain until morning. About the middle of the night thunder was again heard, and flash afterflash of even more vivid lightnings than that of the previous nightenlightened the glen; so bright were the flashes, being alternatelyfork and sheet lightning, that for nearly an hour the glare neverceased. The thunder was much louder than last night's, and a slightmizzling rain for about an hour fell. The barometer had fallenconsiderably for the last two days, so I anticipated a change. Therain was too slight to be of any use; the temperature of theatmosphere, however, was quite changed, for by the morning thethermometer was down to 48 degrees. 

The horses were not fit to travel, so we had to remain, with nothingto do, but consult the little map again, and lay off my position onit. My farthest point I found to be in latitude 24 degrees 38' andlongitude 130 degrees. For the second time I had reached nearly thesame meridian. I had been repulsed at both points, which were about ahundred miles apart, in the first instance by dry stony ranges in themidst of dense scrubs, and in the second by a huge salt lake equallydestitute of fresh water. It appears to me plain enough that a muchmore northerly or else more southerly course must be pursued to reachthe western coast, at all events in such a country, it will be only bytime and perseverance that any explorer can penetrate it. I think Iremarked before that we entered this little glen through a pass abouthalf-a-mile long, between two hills of red sandstone. I named thisWorrill's Pass, after another friend of Mr. Carmichael. The littleglen in which we dug out the tank I could only call Glen Thirsty, forwe never returned to it but ourselves and our horses, were choking forwater. Our supply of rations, although we had eked it out with thegreatest possible economy, was consumed, for we brought only a week'ssupply, and we had now been absent ten days from home, and we shouldhave to fast all to-morrow, until we reached the depot; but as thehorses were unable to carry us, we were forced to remain. 

During the day I had a long conversation with Mr. Carmichael upon ouraffairs in general, and our stock of provisions in particular; theconclusion we arrived at was, that having been nearly three monthsout, we had not progressed so far in the time as we had expected. Wehad found the country so dry that until rains fell, it seemed scarcelyprobable that we should be able to penetrate farther to the west, andif we had to remain in depot for a month or two, it was necessary bysome means to economise our stores, and the only way to do so was todispense with the services of Alec Robinson. It would be necessary, ofcourse, in the first place, to find a creek to the eastward, whichwould take him to the Finke, and by the means of the same watercoursewe might eventually get round to the southern shores of Lake Amadeus, and reach Mount Olga at last. 

In our journey up the Finke two or three creeks had joined from thewest, and as we were now beyond the sources of any of these, it wouldbe necessary to discover some road to one or the other before Robinsoncould be parted with. By dispensing with his services, as he waswilling to go, we should have sufficient provisions left to enable usto hold out for some months longer: even if we had to wait so long asthe usual rainy season in this part of the country, which is aboutJanuary and February, we should still have several months' provisionsto start again with. In all these considerations Mr. Carmichael fullyagreed, and it was decided that I should inform Alec of our resolutionso soon as we returned to the camp. After the usual nearly threehours' work to water our horses, we turned our backs for the last timeupon Glen Thirsty, where we had so often returned with exhausted andchoking horses. 

I must admit that I was getting anxious about Robinson and the stateof things at the camp. In going through Worrill's Pass, we noticedthat scarcely a tree had escaped from being struck by the lightning;branches and boughs lay scattered about, and several pines from thesummits of the ridges had been blasted from their eminence. I was notvery much surprised, for I expected to be lightning-struck myself, asI scarcely ever saw such lightning before. We got back to Robinson andthe camp at 5 p. M. My old horse that carried the pack had gone quitelame, and this caused us to travel very slowly. Robinson was alive andquite well, and the little dog was overjoyed to greet us. Robinsonreported that natives had been frequently in the neighbourhood, andhad lit fires close to the camp, but would not show themselves. Marzetti's mare had foaled, the progeny being a daughter; the horsethat was staked was worse, and I found my old horse had also ran amulga stake into his coronet. I probed the wounds of both, but couldnot get any wood out. Carmichael and I both thought we would like aday's rest; and if I did not do much work, at least I thought a gooddeal. 

The lame horses are worse: the poisonous mulga must be in the wounds, but I can't get it out. What a pleasure it is, not only to have plentyof water to drink, but actually to have sufficient for a bath! I toldRobinson of my views regarding him, but said he must yet remain untilsome eastern waters could be found. On the 30th October, Mr. Carmichael and I, with three fresh horses, started again. In mytravels southerly I had noticed a conspicuous range of some elevationquite distinct from the ridges at which our camp was fixed, and lyingnearly east, where an almost overhanging crag formed its north-westernface. This range I now decided to visit. To get out of the ridges inwhich our creek exists, we had to follow the trend of a valley formedby what are sometimes called reaphook hills; these ran abouteast-south-east. In a few miles we crossed an insignificant littlecreek with a few gum-trees; it had a small pool of water in its bed:the valley was well grassed and open, and the triodia was also absent. A small pass ushered us into a new valley, in which were severalpeculiar conical hills. Passing over a saddle-like pass, between twoof them, we came to a flat, open valley running all the way to thefoot of the new range, with a creek channel between. The rangeappeared very red and rocky, being composed of enormous masses of redsandstone; the upper portion of it was bare, with the exception of afew cypress pines, moored in the rifled rock, and, I suppose, proof tothe tempest's shock. A fine-looking creek, lined with gum-trees, issued from a gorge. We followed up the channel, and Mr. Carmichaelfound a fine little sheet of water in a stony hole, about 400 yardslong and forty yards wide. This had about four feet of water in it;the grass was green, and all round the foot of the range the countrywas open, beautifully grassed, green, and delightful to look at. Having found so eligible a spot, we encamped: how different from ourformer line of march! We strolled up through the rocky gorge, andfound several rock reservoirs with plenty of water; some palm-likeZamias were seen along the rocks. Down the channel, about south-west, the creek passed through a kind of low gorge about three miles away. Smoke was seen there, and no doubt it was an encampment of thenatives. Since the heavy though dry thunderstorm at Glen Thirsty, thetemperature has been much cooler. I called this King's Creek. Anotheron the western flat beyond joins it. I called the north-west point ofthis range Carmichael's Crag. The range trended a little south ofeast, and we decided to follow along its southern face, which wasopen, grassy, and beautifully green; it was by far the most agreeableand pleasant country we had met. 

(ILLUSTRATION: PENNY'S CREEK. )

At about five miles we crossed another creek coming immediately out ofthe range, where it issued from under a high and precipitous wall ofrock, underneath which was a splendid deep and pellucid basin of thepurest water, which came rushing into and out of it through fissuresin the mountain: it then formed a small swamp thickly set with reeds, which covered an area of several acres, having plenty of water amongthem. I called this Penny's Creek. Half a mile beyond it was a similarone and reed bed, but no such splendid rock reservoir. Farther alongthe range other channels issued too, with fine rock water-holes. Ateighteen miles we reached a much larger one than we had yet seen: Ihoped this might reach the Finke. We followed it into the range, whereit came down through a glen: here we found three fine rock-holes withgood supplies of water in them. The glen and rock is all redsandstone: the place reminded me somewhat of Captain Sturt's DepotGlen in the Grey ranges of his Central Australian Expedition, only therock formation is different, though a cliff overhangs both places, andthere are other points of resemblance. I named this Stokes's Creek. 

We rested here an hour and had a swim in one of the rocky basins. Howdifferent to regions westward, where we could not get enough water todrink, let alone to swim in! The water ran down through the glen asfar as the rock-holes, where it sank into the ground. Thermometer 102degrees to-day. We continued along the range, having a fine stretch ofopen grassy country to travel upon, and in five miles reached anothercreek, whose reed beds and water filled the whole glen. This I namedBagot's Creek. For some miles no other creek issued, till, approachingthe eastern end of the range, we had a piece of broken stony groundand some mulga for a few miles, when we came to a sudden fall into alower valley, which was again open, grassy, and green. We could thensee that the range ended, but sent out one more creek, which meandereddown the valley towards some other hills beyond; this valley was of aclayey soil, and the creek had some clay holes with water in them. Following it three miles farther, we found that it emptied itself intoa much larger stony mountain stream; I named this Trickett's Creek, after a friend of Mr. Carmichael's. The range which had thrown out somany creeks, and contained so much water, and which is over fortymiles in length, I named George Gill's Range, after my brother-in-law. The country round its foot is by far the best I have seen in thisregion; and could it be transported to any civilised land, itssprings, glens, gorges, ferns, Zamias, and flowers, would charm theeyes and hearts of toil-worn men who are condemned to live and die incrowded towns. 

The new creek now just discovered had a large stony water-holeimmediately above and below the junction of Trickett's Creek, and aswe approached the lower one, I noticed several native wurleys justdeserted; their owners having seen us while we only thought of them, had fled at our approach, and left all their valuables behind. Theseconsisted of clubs, spears, shields, drinking vessels, yam sticks, with other and all the usual appliances of well-furnished aboriginalgentlemen's establishments. Three young native dog-puppies came out, however, to welcome us, but when we dismounted and they smelt us, notbeing used to such refined odours as our garments probably exhaled, they fled howling. The natives had left some food cooking, and when Icooeyed they answered, but would not come near. This creek was of somesize; it seemed to pass through a valley in a new range furthereastwards. It came from the north-west, apparently draining thenorthern side of Gill's Range. I called it Petermann's Creek. We werenow sixty-five miles from our depot, and had been most successful inour efforts to find a route to allow of the departure of Robinson, asit appeared that this creek would surely reach the Finke, though weafterwards found it did not. I intended upon returning here toendeavour to discover a line of country round the south-easternextremity of Lake Amadeus, so as to reach Mount Olga at last. We nowturned our horses' heads again for our home camp, and continuedtravelling until we reached Stokes's Creek, where we encamped after agood long day's march. 

This morning, as we were approaching Penny's Creek, we saw two nativeslooking most intently at our outgoing horse tracks, along which theywere slowly walking, with their backs towards us. They neither saw norheard us until we were close upon their heels. Each carried twoenormously long spears, two-thirds mulga wood and one-third reed atthe throwing end, of course having the instrument with which theyproject these spears, called by some tribes of natives only, butindiscriminately all over the country by whites, a wommerah. It is inthe form of a flat ellipse, elongated to a sort of tail at the holdingend, and short-pointed at the projecting end; a kangaroo's claw orwild dog's tooth is firmly fixed by gum and gut-strings. Theprojectile force of this implement is enormous, and these spears canbe thrown with the greatest precision for more than a hundred yards. They also had narrow shields, three to four feet long, to protectthemselves from hostile spears, with a handle cut out in the centre. These two natives had their hair tied up in a kind of chignon at theback of the head, the hair being dragged back off the forehead frominfancy. This mode gave them a wild though somewhat effeminateappearance; others, again, wear their hair in long thick curlsreaching down the shoulders, beautifully elaborated with iguanas' oremus' fat and red ochre. This applies only to the men; the women'shair is worn either cut with flints or bitten off short. So soon asthe two natives heard, and then looking round saw us, they scamperedoff like emus, running along as close to the ground as it is possiblefor any two-legged creature to do. One was quite a young fellow, theother full grown. They ran up the side of the hills, and kepttravelling along parallel to us; but though we stopped and called, andsignalled with boughs, they would not come close, and the oftener Itried to come near them on foot, the faster they ran. They continuedalongside us until King's Creek was reached, where we rested thehorses for an hour. We soon became aware that a number of natives werein our vicinity, our original two yelling and shouting to inform theothers of our advent, and presently we saw a whole nation of themcoming from the glen or gorge to the south-west, where I had noticedcamp-fires on my first arrival here. The new people were also shoutingand yelling in the most furious and demoniacal manner; and our formertwo, as though deputed by the others, now approached us much nearerthan before, and came within twenty yards of us, but holding theirspears fixed in their wommerahs, in such a position that they coulduse them instantly if they desired. The slightest incident might haveinduced them to spear us, but we appeared to be at our ease, andendeavoured to parley with them. The men were not handsome or fat, butwere very well made, and, as is the case with most of the natives ofthese parts, were rather tall, namely five feet eight and nine inches. When they had come close enough, the elder began to harangue us, andevidently desired us to know that we were trespassers, and were to beoff forthwith, as he waved us away in the direction we had come from. The whole host then took up the signal, howled, yelled, and wavedtheir hands and weapons at us. Fortunately, however, they did notactually attack us; we were not very well prepared for attack, as wehad only a revolver each, our guns and rifles being left withRobinson. As our horses were frightened and would not feed, we hurriedour departure, when we were saluted with rounds of cheers andblessings, i. E. Yells and curses in their charming dialect, until wewere fairly out of sight and hearing. On reaching the camp, Alecreported that no natives had been seen during our absence. Oninspecting the two lame horses, it appeared they were worse than ever. 

We had a very sudden dry thunderstorm, which cooled the air. Next dayI sent Alec and Carmichael over to the first little five-mile creekeastwards with the two lame horses, so that we can pick them up enroute to-morrow. They reported that the horses could scarcely travelat all; I thought if I could get them to Penny's Creek I would leavethem there. This little depot camp was at length broken up, after ithad existed here from 15th October to 5th November. I never expected, after being nearly three months out, that I should be pushing to theeastwards, when every hope and wish I had was to go in exactly theopposite direction, and I could only console myself with the thoughtthat I was going to the east to get to the west at last. I have greathopes that if I can once set my foot upon Mount Olga, my route to thewest may be unimpeded. I had not seen all the horses together for sometime, and when they were mustered this morning, I found they had allgreatly improved in condition, and almost the fattest among them wasthe little mare that had foaled at Mount Udor. Marzetti's mare lookedvery well also. 

It was past midday when we turned our backs upon Tempe's Vale. At thefive-mile creek we got the two lame horses, and reached King's Creeksomewhat late in the afternoon. As we neared it, we saw severalnatives' smokes, and immediately the whole region seemed alive withaborigines, men, women, and children running down from the highestpoints of the mountain to join the tribe below, where they allcongregated. The yelling, howling, shrieking, and gesticulating theykept up was, to say the least, annoying. When we began to unpack thehorses, they crowded closer round us, carrying their knotted sticks, long spears, and other fighting implements. I did not notice anyboomerangs among them, and I did not request them to send for any. They were growing very troublesome, and evidently meant mischief. Irode towards a mob of them and cracked my whip, which had no effect indispersing them. They made a sudden pause, and then gave a suddenshout or howl. It seemed as if they knew, or had heard something, ofwhite men's ways, for when I unstrapped my rifle, and holding it up, warning them away, to my great astonishment they departed; theyprobably wanted to find out if we possessed such things, and I trustthey were satisfied, for they gave us up apparently as a bad lot. 

It appeared the exertion of travelling had improved the go of the lamehorses, so I took them along with the others in the morning; I did notlike the idea of leaving them anywhere on this range, as the nativeswould certainly spear, and probably eat them. We got them along toStokes's Creek, and encamped at the swimming rock-hole. 

After our frugal supper a circumstance occurred which completely putan end to my expedition. Mr. Carmichael informed me that he had madeup his mind not to continue in the field any longer, for as AlecRobinson was going away, he should do so too. Of course I could notcontrol him; he was a volunteer, and had contributed towards theexpenses of the expedition. We had never fallen out, and I thought hewas as ardent in the cause of exploration as I was, so that when heinformed me of his resolve it came upon me as a complete surprise. Myarguments were all in vain; in vain I showed how, with the stock ofprovisions we had, we might keep the field for months. I even offeredto retreat to the Finke, so that we should not have such arduous workfor want of water, but it was all useless. 

It was with distress that I lay down on my blankets that night, afterwhat he had said. I scarcely knew what to do. I had yet a lot ofhorses heavily loaded with provisions; but to take them out into awaterless, desert country by myself, was impossible. We only went ashort distance--to Bagot's Creek, where I renewed my arguments. Mr. Carmichael's reply was, that he had made up his mind and nothingshould alter it; the consequence was that with one companion I had, soto speak, discharged, and another who discharged himself, any furtherexploration was out of the question. I had no other object now in viewbut to hasten my return to civilisation, in hopes of reorganising myexpedition. We were now in full retreat for the telegraph line; but asI still traversed a region previously unexplored, I may as wellcontinue my narrative to the close. Marzetti's foal couldn't travel, and had to be killed at Bagot's Creek. 

On Friday, the 8th November, the party, now silent, still moved undermy directions. We travelled over the same ground that Mr. Carmichaeland I had formerly done, until we reached the Petermann in the LeviRange. The natives and their pups had departed. The hills approachedthis creek so close as to form a valley; there were severalwater-holes in the creek; we followed its course as far as the valleyexisted. When the country opened, the creek spread out, and the waterceased to appear in its bed. We kept moving all day; towards evening Isaw some gum-trees under some hills two or three miles southwards, andas some smoke appeared above the hills, I knew that natives must havebeen there lately, and that water might be got there. Accordingly, leaving Carmichael and Robinson to go on with the horses, I rode over, and found there was the channel of a small creek, which narrowed intoa kind of glen the farther I penetrated. The grass was burning on allthe hillsides, and as I went still farther up, I could hear the voicesof the natives, and I felt pretty sure of finding water. I was, however, slightly anxious as to what reception I should get. I soonsaw a single native leisurely walking along in front of me with aniguana in his hand, taking it home for supper. He carried severalspears, a wommerah, and a shield, and had long curled locks hangingdown his shoulders. My horse's nose nearly touched his back before hewas aware of my presence, when, looking behind him, he gave a suddenstart, held up his two hands, dropped his iguana and his spears, uttered a tremendous yell as a warning to his tribe, and bounded upthe rocks in front of us like a wallaby. I then passed under aeucalyptus-tree, in whose foliage two ancient warriors had hastilysecreted themselves. I stopped a second and looked up at them, theyalso looked at me; they presented a most ludicrous appearance. Alittle farther on there were several rows of wurleys, and I couldperceive the men urging the women and children away, as they doubtlesssupposed many more white men were in company with me, never supposingI could possibly be alone. While the women and children were departingup the rocks, the men snatched up spears and other weapons, andfollowed the women slowly towards the rocks. The glen had herenarrowed to a gorge, the rocks on either side being not more thaneighty to a hundred feet high. It is no exaggeration to say that thesummits of the rocks on either side of the glen were lined withnatives; they could almost touch me with their spears. I did not feelquite at home in this charming retreat, although I was the cynosure ofa myriad eyes. The natives stood upon the edge of the rocks likestatues, some pointing their spears menacingly towards me, and Icertainly expected that some dozens would be thrown at me. Bothparties seemed paralysed by the appearance of the other. I scarcelyknew what to do; I knew if I turned to retreat that every spear wouldbe launched at me. I was, metaphorically, transfixed to the spot. Ithought the only thing to do was to brave the situation out, as

 "Cowards, 'tis said, in certain situations Derive a sort of courage from despair; And then perform, from downright desperation, Much bolder deeds than many a braver man would dare. "

(ILLUSTRATION: ESCAPE GLEN--THE ADVANCE. )

(ILLUSTRATION: ESCAPE GLEN--THE RETREAT. )

(ILLUSTRATION: MIDDLETON'S PASS AND FISH PONDS. )

I was choking with thirst, though in vain I looked for a sheet ofwater; but seeing where they had dug out some sand, I advanced to oneor two wells in which I could see water, but without a shovel only anative could get any out of such a funnel-shaped hole. In sheerdesperation I dismounted and picked up a small wooden utensil from oneof the wurleys, thinking if I could only get a drink I should summonup pluck for the last desperate plunge. I could only manage to get upa few mouthfuls of dirty water, and my horse was trying to get in ontop of me. So far as I could see, there were only two or three ofthese places where all those natives got water. I remounted my horse, one of the best and fastest I have. He knew exactly what I wantedbecause he wished it also, and that was to be gone. I mounted slowlywith my face to the enemy, but the instant I was on he sprang roundand was away with a bound that almost left me behind; then suchdemoniacal yells greeted my ears as I had never heard before and donot wish to hear again; the echoes of the voices of these nowindignant and infuriated creatures reverberating through the defilesof the hills, and the uncouth sounds of the voices themselves smote sodiscordantly on my own and my horse's ears that we went out of thatglen faster, oh! ever so much faster, than we went in. I heard ahorrid sound of spears, sticks, and other weapons, striking violentlyupon the ground behind me, but I did not stop to pick up any of them, or even to look round to see what caused it. Upon rejoining mycompanions, as we now seldom spoke to one another, I merely told themI had seen water and natives, but that it was hardly worth while to goback to the place, but that they could go if they liked. Robinsonasked me why I had ridden my horse West Australian--shortened to W. A. , but usually called Guts, from his persistent attention to his"inwards"--so hard when there seemed no likelihood's of our gettingany water for the night? I said, "Ride him back and see. " I calledthis place Escape Glen. In two or three miles after I overtook them, the Petermann became exhausted on the plains. We pushed on nearlyeast, as now we must strike the Finke in forty-five to fifty miles;but we had to camp that night without water. The lame horses wentbetter the farther they were driven. I hoped to travel the lamenessout of them, as instances of that kind have occurred with me more thanonce. We were away from our dry camp early, and had scarcely proceededtwo miles when we struck the bank of a broad sandy-bedded creek, whichwas almost as broad as the Finke itself: just where we struck it wason top of a red bank twenty or thirty feet high. The horses naturallylooking down into the bed below, one steady old file of a horse, thatcarried my boxes with the instruments, papers, quicksilver, etc. , wenttoo close, the bank crumbled under him, and down he fell, raising acloud of red dust. I rode up immediately, expecting to see a finesmash, but no, there he was, walking along on the sandy bed below, ascomfortable as he had been on top, not a strap strained or a boxshifted in the least. The bed here was dry. Robinson rode on ahead andshortly found two fine large ponds under a hill which ended abruptlyover them. On our side a few low ridges ran to meet it, thus forming akind of pass. Here we outspanned; it was a splendid place. Carmichaeland Robinson caught a great quantity of fish with hook and line. Icalled these Middleton's Pass and Fish Ponds. The country all roundwas open, grassy, and fit for stock. The next day we got plenty morefish; they were a species of perch, the largest one caught weighed, Idare say, three pounds; they had a great resemblance to Murray cod, which is a species of perch. I saw from the hill overhanging the waterthat the creek trended south-east. Going in that direction we did not, however, meet it; so turning more easterly, we sighted some pointedhills, and found the creek went between them, forming another pass, where there was another water-hole under the rocks. This, no doubt, had been of large dimensions, but was now gradually getting filledwith sand; there was, however, a considerable quantity of water, andit was literally alive with fish, insomuch that the water had adisagreeable and fishy taste. Great numbers of the dead fish werefloating upon the water. Here we met a considerable number of natives, and although the women would not come close, several of the men did, and made themselves useful by holding some of the horses' bridles andgetting firewood. Most of them had names given them by theirgodfathers at their baptism, that is to say, either by the officers ormen of the Overland Telegraph Construction parties. This was mythirty-second camp; I called it Rogers's Pass; twenty-two miles wasour day's stage. From here two conspicuous semi-conical hills, or as Ishould say, truncated cones, of almost identical appearance, caught myattention; they bore nearly south 60 degrees east. 

(ILLUSTRATION: JUNCTION OF THE PALMER AND FINKE. )

Bidding adieu to our sable friends, who had had breakfast with us andagain made themselves useful, we started for the twins. To the southof them was a range of some length; of this the twins formed a part. Icalled it Seymour's Range, and a conic hill at its western end MountOrmerod. We passed the twins in eleven miles, and found some water inthe creek near a peculiar red sandstone hill, Mount Quin; the generalcourse of the creek was south 70 degrees east. Seymour's Range, together with Mounts Quin and Ormerod, had a series of watermarks inhorizontal lines along their face, similar to Johnston's Range, seenwhen first starting, the two ranges lying east and west of oneanother; the latter-named range we were again rapidly approaching. Notfar from Mount Quin I found some clay water-holes in a lateralchannel. The creek now ran nearly east, and having taken my latitudethis morning by Aldeberan, I was sure of what I anticipated, namely, that I was running down the creek I had called Number 2. It was onethat joined the Finke at my outgoing Number 2 camp. We found awater-hole to-day, fenced in by the natives. There was a low range tothe south-west, and a tent-shaped hill more easterly. We rested thehorses at the fenced-in water-hole. I walked to the top of the tenthill, and saw the creek went through another pass to the north-east. In the afternoon I rode over to this pass and found some ponds ofwater on this side of it. A bullock whose tracks I had seen further upthe creek had got bogged here. We next travelled through the pass, which I called Briscoe's Pass, the creek now turning up nearlynorth-east; in six miles further it ran under a hill, which I wellremembered in going out; at thirteen miles from the camp it ended inthe broader bosom of the Finke, where there was a fine water-hole atthe junction, in the bed of the smaller creek, which was called thePalmer. The Finke now appeared very different to when we passed up. Itthen had a stream of water running along its channel, but was nowalmost dry, except that water appeared at intervals upon the surfaceof the white and sandy bed, which, however, was generally either saltyor bitter; others, again, were drinkable enough. Upon reaching theriver we camped. 

My expedition was over. I had failed certainly in my object, which wasto penetrate to the sources of the Murchison River, but not throughany fault of mine, as I think any impartial reader will admit. Ouroutgoing tracks were very indistinct, but yet recognisable; we campedagain at Number 1. Our next line was nearly east, along the course ofthe Finke, passing a few miles south of Chambers's Pillar. I had leftit but twelve weeks and four days; during that interval I hadtraversed and laid down over a thousand miles of previously totallyunknown country. Had I been fortunate enough to have fallen upon agood or even a fair line of country, the distance I actually travelledwould have taken me across the continent. 

I may here make a few remarks upon the Finke. It is usually called ariver, although its water does not always show upon the surface. Overlanders, i. E. Parties travelling up or down the road along theSouth Australian Trans-Continental Telegraph line, where the waterdoes show on the surface, call them springs. The water is alwaysrunning underneath the sand, but in certain places it becomesimpregnated with mineral and salty formations, which gives the water adisagreeable taste. This peculiar drain no doubt rises in the westernportions of the McDonnell Range, not far from where I traced it to, and runs for over 500 miles straight in a general south-westerlydirection, finally entering the northern end of Lake Eyre. It drainsan enormous area of Central South Australia, and on the parallels of24, 25, 26 degrees of south latitude, no other stream exists betweenit and the Murchison or the Ashburton, a distance in either case ofnearly 1, 100 miles, and thus it will be seen it is the only CentralAustralian river. 

On the 21st of November we reached the telegraph line at the junctionof the Finke and the Hugh. The weather during this month, and almostto its close, was much cooler than the preceding one. The horses weredivided between us--Robinson getting six, Carmichael four, and I five. Carmichael and Robinson went down the country, in company, in advanceof me, as fast as they could. I travelled more slowly by myself. Onenight, when near what is called the Horse-shoe bend of the Finke, Ihad turned out my horses, and as it seemed inclined to rain, waserecting a small tent, and on looking round for the tomahawk to drivea stake into the ground, was surprised to notice a very handsomelittle black boy, about nine or ten years old, quite close to me. Ipatted him on the head, whereupon he smiled very sweetly, and began totalk most fluently in his own language. I found he interspersed hisremarks frequently with the words Larapinta, white fellow, andyarraman (horses). He told me two white men, Carmichael and Robinson, and ten horses, had gone down, and that white fellows, with horses andcamel drays (Gosse's expedition), had just gone up the line. While wewere talking, two smaller boys came up and were patted, and patted mein return. 

The water on the surface here was bitter, and I had not been able tofind any good, but these little imps of iniquity took my tin billy, scratched a hole in the sand, and immediately procured deliciouswater; so I got them to help to water the horses. I asked the elderboy, whom I christened Tommy, if he would come along with me and theyarramans; of these they seemed very fond, as they began kissing whilehelping to water them. Tommy then found a word or two of English, andsaid, "You master?" The natives always like to know who they aredealing with, whether a person is a master or a servant. I replied, "Yes, mine master. " He then said, "Mine (him) ridem yarraman. " "Oh, yes. " "Which one?" "That one, " said I, pointing to old Cocky, andsaid, "That's Cocky. " Then the boy went up to the horse, and said, "Cocky, you ridem me?" Turning to me, he said, "All right, master, youand me Burr-r-r-r-r. " I was very well pleased to think I should getsuch a nice little fellow so easily. It was now near evening, andknowing that these youngsters couldn't possibly be very far from theirfathers or mothers, I asked, "Where black fellow?" Tommy said, quitenonchalantly, "Black fellow come up!" and presently I heard voices, and saw a whole host of men, women, and children. Then these threeboys set up a long squeaky harangue to the others, and three or fourmen and five or six boys came running up to me. One was a middle-aged, good-looking man; with him were two boys, and Tommy gave me tounderstand that these were his father and brothers. The father drewTommy towards him, and ranged his three boys in a row, and when Ilooked at them, it was impossible to doubt their relationship--theywere all three so wonderfully alike. Dozens more men, boys, and womencame round--some of the girls being exceedingly pretty. To feed solarge a host, would have required all my horses as well as my stock ofrations, so I singled out Tommy, his two brothers, and the otheroriginal little two, at the same time, giving Tommy's father abouthalf a damper I had already cooked, and told him that Tommy was myboy. He shook his head slowly, and would not accept the damper, walking somewhat sorrowfully away. However, I sent it to him by Tommy, and told him to tell his father he was going with me and the horses. The damper was taken that time. It did not rain, and the fiveyoungsters all slept near me, while the tribe encamped a hundred yardsaway. I was not quite sure whether to expect an attack from such anumber of natives. I did not feel quite at ease; though these were, soto say, civilised people, they were known to be great thieves; and Inever went out of sight of my belongings, as in many cases the morecivilised they are, the more villainous they may be. In the morningTommy's father seemed to have thought better of my proposal, thinkingprobably it was a good thing for one of his boys to have a whitemaster. I may say nearly all the civilised youngsters, and a good manyold ones too, like to get work, regular rations, and tobacco, from thecattle or telegraph stations, which of course do employ a good many. When one of these is tired of his work, he has to bring up asubstitute and inform his employer, and thus a continual change goeson. The boys brought up the horses, and breakfast being eaten, thefather led Tommy up to me and put his little hand in mine; at the sametime giving me a small piece of stick, and pretending to thrash him;represented to me that, if he didn't behave himself, I was to thrashhim. I gave the old fellow some old clothes (Tommy I had alreadydressed up), also some flour, tea, and sugar, and lifted the child onto old Cocky's saddle, which had a valise in front, with two strapsfor the monkey to cling on by. A dozen or two youngsters now alsowanted to come on foot. I pretended to be very angry, and Tommy musthave said something that induced them to remain. I led the horse theboy was riding, and had to drive the other three in front of me. Whenwe departed, the natives gave us some howls or cheers, and finally wegot out of their reach. The boy seemed quite delighted with his newsituation, and talked away at a great rate. As soon as we reached theroad, by some extraordinary chance, all my stock of wax matches, carried by Badger, caught alight; a perfect volcano ensued, and thenovel sight of a pack-horse on fire occurred. This sent him mad, andaway he and the two other pack-horses flew down the road, over thesandhills, and were out of sight in no time. I told the boy to clingon as I started to gallop after them. He did so for a bit, butslipping on one side, Cocky gave a buck, and sent Tommy flying intosome stumps of timber cut down for the passage of the telegraph line, and the boy fell on a stump and broke his arm near the shoulder. Itied my horse up and went to help the child, who screamed and bit atme, and said something about his people killing me. Every time I triedto touch or pacify him it was the same. I did not know what to do, thehorses were miles away. I decided to leave the boy where he was, goafter the horses, and then return with them to my last night's camp, and give the boy back to his father. When he saw me mount, he howledand yelled, but I gave him to understand what I was going to do and helay down and cried. I was full of pity for the poor little creature, and I only left him to return. I started away, and not until I hadbeen at full gallop for an hour did I sight the runaway horses. Cockygot away when the accident occurred, and galloped after and found theothers, and his advent evidently set them off a second time. Returningto the boy, I saw some smoke, and on approaching close, found a youngblack fellow also there. He had bound up the child's arm with leaves, and wrapped it up with bits of bark; and when I came he damped it withwater from my bag. I then suggested to these two to return; but oh no, the new chap was evidently bound to seek his fortune in London--thatis to say, at the Charlotte Waters Station--and he merely remarked, "You, mine, boy, Burr-r-r-r-r, white fellow wurley;" he also said, "Mine, boy, walk, you, yarraman--mine, boy, sleep you wurley, youBurr-r-r-r-r yarraman. " All this meant that they would walk and Imight ride, and that they would camp with me at night. Off I went andleft them, as I had a good way to go. I rode and they walked to theCharlotte. I got the little boy regular meals at the station; but hisarm was still bad, and I don't know if it ever got right. I never sawhim again. 

At the Charlotte Waters I met Colonel Warburton and his son; they weregoing into the regions I had just returned from. I gave them all theinformation they asked, and showed them my map; but they and Gosse'sexpedition went further up the line to the Alice springs, in theMcDonnell Ranges, for a starting-point. I was very kindly receivedhere again, and remained a few days. My old horse Cocky had got badagain, in consequence of his galloping with the packhorses, and I lefthim behind me at the Charlotte, in charge of Mr. Johnston. On arrivalat the Peake, I found that Mr. Bagot had broken his collar-bone by afall from a horse. I drove him to the Blinman Mine, where we took thecoach for Adelaide. At Beltana, before we reached the Blinman Mine, Iheard that my former black boy Dick was in that neighbourhood, and Mr. Chandler, whom I had met at the Charlotte Waters, and who was nowstationed here, promised to get and keep him for me until I eithercame or sent for him: this he did. And thus ends the first book of myexplorations. 

AUSTRALIA TWICE TRAVERSED. 

BOOK 2. 

NOTE TO THE SECOND EXPEDITION. 

In a former part of my narrative I mentioned, that so soon as I hadinformed my kind friend Baron von Mueller by wire from the CharlotteWaters Telegraph Station, of the failure and break up of myexpedition, he set to work and obtained a new fund for me to continuemy labours. Although the greatest despatch was used, and the moneyquickly obtained, yet it required some months before I could againdepart. I reached Adelaide late in January, 1873, and as soon as fundswere available I set to work at the organisation of a new expedition. I obtained the services of a young friend named William HenryTietkins--who came over from Melbourne to join me--and we got a youngfellow named James Andrews, or Jimmy as we always called him. I boughta light four-wheeled trap and several horses, and we left Adelaideearly in March, 1873. We drove up the country by way of the Burramines to Port Augusta at the head of Spencer's Gulf, buying horses aswe went; and having some pack saddles on the wagon, these we put onour new purchases as we got them. 

Before I left Adelaide I had instructed Messrs. Tassie & Co. , of PortAugusta, to forward certain stores required for our journey, whichloading had already been despatched by teams to the Peake. We made aleisurely journey up the country, as it was of no use to overtake ourstores. At Beltana Mr. Chandler had got and kept my black boy Dick, who pretended to be overjoyed to see me, and perhaps he really was;but he was extra effusive in his affection, and now declared he hadbeen a silly young fool, that he didn't care for wild blacks now abit, and would go with me anywhere. When Mr. Chandler got him he washalf starved, living in a blacks' camp, and had scarcely any clothes. Leaving Beltana, in a few days we passed the Finniss Springs Station, and one of the people there made all sorts of overtures to Dick, whowas now dressed in good clothes, and having had some good livinglately, had got into pretty good condition; some promises must havebeen made him, as when we reached the Gregory, he bolted away, and Inever saw him afterwards. 

The Gregory was now running, and by simply dipping out a bucketful ofwater, several dozens of minnows could be caught. In this way we gotplenty of them, and frying them in butter, just as they were, theyproved the most delicious food it was possible to eat, equal, if notsuperior, to whitebait. Nothing of a very interesting nature occurredduring our journey up to the Peake, where we were welcomed by theMessrs. Bagot at the Cattle Station, and Mr. Blood of the TelegraphDepartment. Here we fixed up all our packs, sold Mr. Bagot the wagon, and bought horses and other things; we had now twenty packhorses andfour riding ditto. Here a short young man accosted me, and asked me ifI did not remember him, saying at the same time that he was "Alf. " Ifancied I knew his face, but thought it was at the Peake that I hadseen him, but he said, "Oh no, don't you remember Alf with Bagot'ssheep at the north-west bend of the Murray? my name's Alf Gibson, andI want to go out with you. " I said, "Well, can you shoe? can you ride?can you starve? can you go without water? and how would you like to bespeared by the blacks outside?" He said he could do everything I hadmentioned, and he wasn't afraid of the blacks. He was not a man Iwould have picked out of a mob, but men were scarce, and as he seemedso anxious to come, and as I wanted somebody, I agreed to take him. Wegot all our horses shod, and two extra sets of shoes fitted for each, marked, and packed away. I had a little black-and-tan terrier dogcalled Cocky, and Gibson had a little pup of the same breed, which hewas so anxious to take that at last I permitted him to do so. 

Our horses' loads were very heavy at starting, the greater number ofthe horses carrying 200 pounds. The animals were not in very goodcondition; I got the horse I had formerly left here, Badger, the onewhose pack had been on fire at the end of my last trip. I had decidedto make a start upon this expedition from a place known as Ross'sWater-hole in the Alberga Creek, at its junction with the Stevenson, the Alberga being one of the principal tributaries of the Finke. Theposition of Ross's Water-hole is in latitude 27 degrees 8' andlongitude 135 degrees 45', it lying 120 to 130 miles in latitude moreto the south than the Mount Olga of my first journey, which was apoint I was most desirous to reach. Having tried without success toreach it from the north, I now intended to try from a more southerlyline. Ross's Water-hole is called ninety miles from the Peake, and wearrived there without any difficulty. The nights now were exceedinglycold, as it was near the end of July. When we arrived I left theothers in camp and rode myself to the Charlotte Waters, expecting toget my old horse Cocky, and load him with 200 pounds of flour; butwhen I arrived there, the creek water-hole was dry, and all the horsesrunning loose on the Finke. I got two black boys to go out and try toget the horse, but on foot in the first place they could never havedone it, and in the second place, when they returned, they said theycould not find him at all. I sent others, but to no purpose, andeventually had to leave the place without getting him, and returnedempty-handed to the depot, having had my journey and lost my time fornothing. 

There was but poor feed at the water-hole, every teamster andtraveller always camping there. Some few natives appeared at the camp, and brought some boys and girls. An old man said he could get me aflour-bag full of salt up the creek, so I despatched him for it; hebrought back a little bit of dirty salty gravel in one hand, andexpected a lot of flour, tea, sugar, meat, tobacco, and clothes forit; but I considered my future probable requirements, and refrainedfrom too much generosity. A nice little boy called Albert agreed tocome with us, but the old man would not allow him--I suppose onaccount of the poor reward he got for his salt. A young black fellowhere said he had found a white man's musket a long way up the creek, and that he had got it in his wurley, and would give it to me forflour, tea, sugar, tobacco, matches, and clothes. I only promisedflour, and away he went to get the weapon. Next day he returned, andbefore reaching the camp began to yell, "White fellow mukkety, whitefellow mukkety. " I could see he had no such thing in his hands, butwhen he arrived he unfolded a piece of dirty old pocket handkerchief, from which he produced--what? an old discharged copper revolvercartridge. His reward was commensurate with his prize. 

The expedition consisted of four members--namely, myself, Mr. WilliamHenry Tietkins, Alfred Gibson, and James Andrews, with twenty-fourhorses and two little dogs. On Friday, the 1st of August, 1873, wewere prepared to start, but rain stopped us; again on Sunday some morefell. We finally left the encampment on the morning of Monday, the4th. 

CHAPTER 2. 1. FROM THE 4TH TO THE 22ND AUGUST, 1873. 

Leave for the west. Ascend the Alberga. An old building. Rain, thunder, and lightning. Leave Alberga for the north-west. Drenched in the night. Two lords of the soil. Get their conge. Water-holes. Pretty amphitheatre. Scrubs on either side. Watering the horses. A row of saplings. Spinifex and poplars. Dig a tank. Hot wind. A broken limb. Higher hills. Flat-topped hills. Singular cones. Better country. A horse staked. Bluff-faced hills. The Anthony Range. Cool nights. Tent-shaped hills. Fantastic mounds. Romantic valley. Picturesque scene. A gum creek. Beautiful country. Gusts of fragrance. New and independent hills. Large creek. Native well. Jimmy's report. The Krichauff. Cold nights. Shooting blacks. Labor omnia vincit. Thermometer 28 degrees. Dense scrubs. Small creek. Native pheasant's nest. Beautiful open ground. Charming view. Rocks piled on rocks. 

On Monday, the 4th August, 1873, my new expedition, under veryfavourable circumstances, started from Ross's Water-hole in theAlberga. The country through which the Alberga here runs is mostlyopen and stony, but good country for stock of all kinds. The road andthe telegraph line are here thirteen miles apart. At that distance upthe creek, nearly west, we reached it. The frame of an old buildingwas convenient for turning into a house, with a tarpaulin for a roof, as there appeared a likelihood of more rain. Some water was got in aclay-pan in the neighbourhood. 

A misty and cloudy morning warned us to keep under canvas: rain fellat intervals during the day, and at sundown heavy thunder and brightlightning came from the north-west, with a closing good smart shower. The next morning was fine and clear, though the night had beenextremely cold. The bed of this creek proved broad but ill-defined, and cut up into numerous channels. Farther along the creek a morescrubby region was found; the soil was soft after the rain, but nowater was seen lying about. The creek seemed to be getting smaller; Idid not like its appearance very much, so struck away north-west. Thecountry now was all thick mulga scrub and grassy sandhills; amongstthese we found a clay-pan with some water in it. At night we werestill in the scrub, without water, but we were not destined to leaveit without any, for at ten o'clock a thunderstorm from the north-westcame up, and before we could get half our things under canvas, we werethoroughly drenched. Off our tarpaulins we obtained plenty of waterfor breakfast; but the ground would not retain any. Sixteen milesfarther along we came down out of the sandhills on to a creek where wefound water, and camped, but the grass was very poor, dry, andinnutritious. More rain threatened, but the night was dry, and themorning clear and beautiful. This creek was the Hamilton. Two of itsnative lords visited the camp this morning, and did not appear at allinclined to leave it. The creek is here broad and sandy: the timber issmall and stunted. Towards evening the two Hamiltonians put on airs ofgreat impudence, and became very objectionable; two or three times Ihad to resist their encroachments into the camp, and at last theygreatly annoyed me. I couldn't quite make out what they said to oneanother; but I gathered they expected more of their tribe, and wereanxiously looking out for them in all directions. Finally, as our gunswanted discharging and cleaning after the late showers, we fired themoff, and so soon as the natives saw us first handle and then dischargethem, off they went, and returned to Balclutha no more. 

(ILLUSTRATION: AN INCIDENT OF TRAVEL. )

Going farther up the creek, we met some small tributaries with finelittle water-holes. Some ridges now approached the creek; from the topof one many sheets of water glittered in stony clay-pans. Morewesterly the creek ran under a hill. Crossing another tributary wherethere was plenty of water, we next saw a large clay-hole in the maincreek--it was, however, dry. When there was some water in it, thenatives had fenced it round to catch any large game that might come todrink; at present they were saved the trouble, for game and water hadboth alike departed. Mr. Tietkens, my lieutenant and second incommand, found a very pretty amphitheatre formed by the hills; weencamped there, at some clay-pans; the grass, however, was very poor;scrubs appeared on the other side of the creek. A junction withanother creek occurred near here, beyond which the channel was broad, flat, sandy, and covered indiscriminately with timber; scrubs existedon either bank. We had to cross and recross the bed as the best road. We found a place in it where the natives had dug, and where we gotwater, but the supply was very unsatisfactory, an enormous quantity ofsand having to be shifted before the most willing horse could get downto it. We succeeded at length with the aid of canvas buckets, and bythe time the whole twenty four were satisfied, we were also. The grasswas dry as usual, but the horses ate it, probably because there is noother for them. Our course to-day was 8 degrees south of west. Closeto where we encamped were three or four saplings placed in a row inthe bed of the creek, and a diminutive tent-frame, as though some one, if not done by native children, had been playing at erecting aminiature telegraph line. I did not like this creek much more than theAlberga, and decided to try the country still farther north-west. Thiswe did, passing through somewhat thick scrubs for eighteen miles, whenwe came full upon the creek again, and here for the first time sincewe started we noticed some bunches of spinifex, the Festuca irritans, and some native poplar trees. These have a straight stem, and are inoutline somewhat like a pine-tree, but the foliage is of a faintergreen, and different-shaped leaf. They are very pretty to the eye, butgenerally inhabit the very poorest regions; the botanical name of thistree is Codonocarpus cotinifolius. At five miles farther we dug in thebed of the creek, but only our riding-horses could be watered bynight. White pipeclay existed on the bed. The weather was oppressiveto-day. Here my latitude was 26 degrees 27', longitude 134 degrees. Ittook all next day to water the horses. Thermometer 92 degrees inshade, hot wind blowing. The dead limb of a tree, to which we fixedour tarpaulin as an awning for shade, slipped down while we were atdinner; it first fell on the head of Jimmy Andrews, which broke it inhalf; it also fell across my back, tearing my waistcoat, shirt, andskin; but as it only fell on Jimmy's head of course it couldn't hurthim. The country still scrubby on both sides: we now travelled aboutnorth-north-west, and reached a low stony rise in the scrubs, and fromit saw the creek stretching away towards some other ridges nearly onthe line we were travelling. We skirted the creek, and in eleven mileswe saw other hills of greater elevation than any we had yet seen. 

Reaching the first ridge, we got water by digging a few inches intothe pipeclay bed of the creek; a more extended view was here obtained, and ranges appeared from west, round by north-west, to north; therewere many flat-topped hills and several singular cones, and thecountry appeared more open. I was much pleased to think I haddistanced the scrubs. One cone in the new range bore north 52 degreeswest, and for some distance the creek trended that way. On reachingthe foot of the new hills, I found the creek had greatly altered itsappearance, if indeed it was the same. It is possible the main creekmay have turned more to the west, and that this is only a tributary, but as we found some surface water in a clay-hole, we liked it betterthan having to dig in a larger channel. Here for the first time formany weeks we came upon some green grass, which the horses greedilydevoured. The country here is much better and more open. On musteringthe horses this morning, one was found to be dead lame, with a mulgastake in his coronet, and as he could not travel we were forced toremain at the camp; at least the camp was not shifted. This horse wascalled Trew; he was one of the best in the mob, though then I had notfound out all his good qualities--he now simply carried a pack. Mr. Tietkens and I mounted our horses and rode farther up the creek. Thechannel had partly recovered its appearance, and it may be our old oneafter all. Above the camp its course was nearly north, and a line oflow bluff-faced hills formed its eastern bank. The country towards thenew ranges looked open and inviting, and we rode to a prominent conein it, to the west-north-west. The country was excellent, being openand grassy, and having fine cotton and salt bush flats all over it:there was surface water in clay-pans lying about. I called this theAnthony Range. We returned much pleased with our day's ride. 

The nights were now agreeably cool, sometimes very dewy. The lamehorse was still very bad, but we lightened his load, and after thefirst mile he travelled pretty well. We steered for the singular conein advance. Most of the hills, however, of the Anthony Range wereflat-topped, though many tent-shaped ones exist also. I ascended thecone in ten miles, west of north-west from camp. The view displayedhills for miles in all directions, amongst which were many bare rocksof red colour heaped into the most fantastically tossed moundsimaginable, with here and there an odd shrub growing from theinterstices of the rocks; some small miniature creeks, with only myaland mulga growing in them, ran through the valleys--all of these hadrecently been running. We camped a mile or two beyond the cone in anextremely pretty and romantic valley; the grass was green, and Natureappeared in one of her smiling moods, throwing a gleam of sunshine onthe minds of the adventurers who had sought her in one of herwilderness recesses. The only miserable creature in our party was thelame horse, but now indeed he had a mate in misfortune, for we foundthat another horse, Giant Despair, had staked himself during our day'smarch, though he did not appear lame until we stopped, and his hobbleswere about to be put on. Mr. Tietkens extracted a long mulga stickfrom his fetlock: neither of the two staked horses ever became soundagain, although they worked well enough. In the night, or rather bymorning (daylight), the thermometer had fallen to 30 degrees, andthough there was a heavy dew there was neither frost nor ice. 

We now passed up to the head of the picturesque valley, and from therewound round some of the mounds of bare rocks previously mentioned. They are composed of a kind of a red conglomerate granite. We turnedin and out amongst the hills till we arrived at the banks of a smallcreek lined with eucalyptus or gum-trees, and finding some water weencamped on a piece of beautiful-looking country, splendidly grassedand ornamented with the fantastic mounds, and the creek timber as backand fore grounds for the picture. Small birds twittered on each bough, sang their little songs of love or hate, and gleefully fled or pursuedeach other from tree to tree. The atmosphere seemed cleared of allgrossness or impurities, a few sunlit clouds floated in space, and aperfume from Nature's own laboratory was exhaled from the flowers andvegetation around. It might well be said that here were

 "Gusts of fragrance on the grasses, In the skies a softened splendour; Through the copse and woodland passes Songs of birds in cadence tender. "

The country was so agreeable here we had no desire to traverse it atrailway speed; it was delightful to loll and lie upon the land, inabandoned languishment beneath the solar ray. Thirty or forty milesfarther away, west-north-westward, other and independent hills orranges stood, though I was grieved to remark that the intermediateregion seemed entirely filled with scrub. How soon the scenerychanges! Travelling now for the new hills, we soon entered scrubs, where some plots of the dreaded triodia were avoided. In the scrubs, at ten miles we came upon the banks of a large gum-timbered creek, whose trees were fine and vigorous. In the bed we found a native well, with water at no great depth; the course of this creek where we struckit, was south-south-east, and we travelled along its banks in anopposite, that is to say, north-north-west direction. That line, however, took us immediately into the thick scrubs, so at four mileson this bearing I climbed a tree, and saw that I must turn north tocut it again; this I did, and in three miles we came at right anglesupon a creek which I felt sure was not the one we had left, the scrubbeing so thick one could hardly see a yard ahead. Here I sent JimmyAndrews up a tree; having been a sailor boy, he is well skilled inthat kind of performance, but I am not. I told him to discover thewhereabouts of the main creek, and say how far off it appeared. Thatbrilliant genius informed me that it lay across the course we weresteering, north, and it was only a mile away; so we went on to it, aswe supposed, but having gone more than two miles and not reaching it, I asked Jimmy whether he had not made some mistake. I said, "We havealready come two miles, and you said it was scarcely one. " He thenkindly informed me that I was going all wrong, and ought not to gothat way at all; but upon my questioning him as to which way I shouldgo he replied, "Oh, I don't know NOW. " My only plan was to turn east, when we soon struck the creek. Then Jimmy declared if we had KEPTNORTH LONG ENOUGH, we would have come to it AGIN. 

Though Jimmy was certainly a bit of a fool, he was not perhaps quite afool of the greatest size. Little fools and young fools somehow seemto pass muster in this peculiar world, but to be old and a fool is amistake which is difficult, if not impossible, to remedy. It was toolate to go any farther; we couldn't get any water, but we had to camp. I intended to return in the morning to where we first struck thiscreek, and where we saw water in the native well. I called this theKrichauff. The mercury went down to 28 degrees by daylight the nextmorning, but neither ice nor frost appeared. This morning Mr. Tietkens, when out after the horses, found a rather deep native wellsome distance up the creek, and we shifted the camp to it. On the waythere I was behind the party, and before I overtook them I heard thereport of firearms. On reaching the horses, Jimmy Andrews had hisrevolver in his hand, Mr. Tietkens and Gibson being away. On inquiringof Jimmy the cause of the reports and the reason of his having hisrevolver in his hand, he replied that he thought Mr. Tietkens wasshooting the blacks, and he had determined to slaughter his share ifthey attacked him. Mr. Tietkens had fired at some wallabies, which, however, did not appear at dinner. On arrival at the new well, we hada vast amount of work to perform, and only three or four horses gotwater by night. 

I told Mr. Tietkens not to work himself to death, as I would retreatin the morning to where there was water, but he persisted in workingaway by himself in the night, and was actually able to water all thehorses in the morning. Labor omnia vincit. Last night there was aheavy fall of dew, thermometer 28 degrees, but no frost or ice. I wasdelighted to turn my back upon this wretched place. 

The object of our present line was to reach the new hills seen fromthe Anthony Range. Three of them appeared higher than, and isolatedfrom, the others. They now bore west of us--at least they should havedone so, and I hoped they did, for in such thick scrubs it was quiteimpossible to see them. No matter for that, we steered west for themand traversed a region of dense scrubs. I was compelled to ride inadvance with a bell on my stirrup to enable the others to hear whichway to come. In seventeen miles we struck a small gum creek withoutwater, but there was good herbage. In the scrubs to-day we saw anative pheasant's nest, the Leipoa ocellata of Gould, but there wereno eggs in it. This bird is known by different names in differentparts of Australia. On the eastern half of the continent it is usuallycalled the Lowan, while in Western Australia it is known as the Gnow;both I believe are native names. Another cold night, thermometer 26degrees, with a slight hoar frost. Moving on still west throughscrubs, but not so thick as yesterday, some beautiful and open groundwas met till we reached the foot of some low ridges. 

From the top of one of these, we had before us a most charming view, red ridges of extraordinary shapes and appearance being tossed up inall directions, with the slopes of the soil, from whence they seemedto spring, rising gently, and with verdure clad in a garment of grasswhose skirts were fringed with flowers to their feet. These slopeswere beautifully bedecked with flowers of the most varied hues, throwing a magic charm over the entire scene. Vast bare red

 "Rocks piled on rocks stupendous hurled, Like fragments of an earlier world, "

appeared everywhere, but the main tier of ranges for which I had beensteering was still several miles farther away to the west. Thinkingthat water, the scarcest here of Nature's gifts, must surely exist insuch a lovely region as this, it was more with the keen and criticaleye of the explorer in search of that element, than of the admirer ofNature in her wildest grace, that I surveyed the scene. A small gumcreek lay to the south, to which Mr. Tietkens went. I sent Gibson to aspot about two miles off to the west, as straight before us in thatdirection lay a huge mass of rocks and bare slabs of stone, whichmight have rock reservoirs amongst them. To the north lay a longerjumble of hills, with overhanging ledges and bare precipices, which Iundertook to search, leaving Jimmy to mind the horses until some of usreturned. Neither Mr. Tietkens nor Gibson could find any water, and Iwas returning quite disappointed, after wandering over hills androcks, through gullies and under ledges, when at length I espied asmall and very fertile little glen whose brighter green attracted mynotice. Here a small gully came down between two hills, and in the bedof the little channel I saw a patch of blacker soil, and on reachingit I found a small but deep native well with a little water at thebottom. It was an extraordinary little spot, and being funnel shaped, I doubted whether any animal but a bird or a black man could get downto it, and I also expected it would prove a hideous bog; but my littlefriend (W. A. ) seemed so determined to test its nature, and though itwas nearly four feet to the water, he quietly let his forefeet slipdown into it, and though his hindquarters were high and dry above hishead he got a good drink, which he told me in his language he was verythankful for. I brought the whole party to the spot, and we hadimmediately to set to work to enlarge the well. We found the watersupply by no means abundant, as, though we all worked hard at it inturns with the shovel, it did not drain in as fast as one horse coulddrink; but by making a large hole, we expected sufficient would drainin during the night for the remainder of the horses. We did not ceasefrom our work until it was quite dark, when we retired to ourencampment, quite sufficiently tired to make us sleep without the aidof any lullaby. 

CHAPTER 2. 2. FROM 22ND AUGUST TO 10TH SEPTEMBER, 1873. 

A poor water supply. Seeds planted. Beautiful country. Ride westward. A chopped log. Magnetic hill. Singular scenery. Snail-shells. Cheering prospect westward. A new chain of hills. A nearer mountain. Vistas of green. Gibson finds water. Turtle backs. Ornamented Troglodytes' caves. Water and emus. Beef-wood-trees. Grassy lawns. Gum creek. Purple vetch. Cold dewy night. Jumbled turtle backs. Tietkens returns. I proceed. Two-storied native huts. Chinese doctrine. A wonderful mountain. Elegant trees. Extraordinary ridge. A garden. Nature imitates her imitator. Wild and strange view. Pool of water. A lonely camp. Between sleeping and waking. Extract from Byron for breakfast. Return for the party. Emus and water. Arrival of Tietkens. A good camp. Tietkens's birthday creek. Ascend the mountain. No signs of water. Gill's range. Flat-topped hill. The Everard range. High mounts westward. Snail shells. Altitude of the mountain. Pretty scenes. Parrot soup. The sentinel. Thermometer 26 degrees. Frost. Lunar rainbow. A charming spot. A pool of water. Cones of the main range. A new pass. Dreams realised. A long glen. Glen Ferdinand. Mount Ferdinand. The Reid. Large creek. Disturb a native nation. Spears hurled. A regular attack. Repulse and return of the enemy. Their appearance. Encounter Creek. Mount Officer. The Currie. The Levinger. Excellent country. Horse-play. Mount Davenport. Small gap. A fairy space. The Fairies' Glen. Day dreams. Thermometer 24 degrees. Ice. Mount Oberon. Titania's spring. Horses bewitched. Glen Watson. Mount Olga in view. The Musgrave range. 

Upon inspection this morning we found but a poor supply of water haddrained into our tank in the night, and that there was by no meanssufficient for the remaining horses; these had no water yesterday. Wepassed the forenoon in still enlarging the tank, and as soon as abucketful drained in, it was given to one of the horses. We plantedthe seeds of a lot of vegetables and trees here, such as Tasmanianblue gum, wattle, melons, pumpkins, cucumbers, maize, etc. ; and thenMr. Tietkens and I got our horses and rode to the main hills to thewest, in hopes of discovering more water. We started late, and it wasdark when we reached the range. The country passed over between it andour encampment, was exceedingly beautiful; hills being thrown up inred ridges of bare rock, with the native fig-tree growing among therocks, festooning them into infinite groups of beauty, while theground upon which we rode was a perfect carpet of verdure. We weretherefore in high anticipation of finding some waters equivalent tothe scene; but as night was advancing, our search had to be delayeduntil the morrow. The dew was falling fast, the night air was cool, and deliciously laden with the scented exhalations from trees andshrubs and flowers. The odour of almonds was intense, reminding me ofthe perfumes of the wattle blooms of the southern, eastern, and morefertile portions of this continent. So exquisite was the aroma, that Irecalled to my mind Gordon's beautiful lines:--

 "In the spring when the wattle gold trembles, Twixt shadow and shine, When each dew-laden air draught resembles; A long draught of wine. "

So delightful indeed was the evening that it was late when we gaveourselves up to the oblivion of slumber, beneath the cool and starrysky. We made a fire against a log about eighteen inches thick; thiswas a limb from an adjacent blood-wood or red gum-tree, and thismorning we discovered that it had been chopped off its parent stemeither with an axe or tomahawk, and carried some forty or fifty yardsfrom where it had originally fallen. This seemed very strange; in thefirst place for natives, so far out from civilisation as this, to haveaxes or tomahawks; and in the second place, to chop logs or boughs offa tree was totally against their practice. By sunrise we were upon thesummit of the mountain; it consisted of enormous blocks and bouldersof red granite, so riven and fissured that no water could possiblylodge upon it for an instant. I found it also to be highly magnetic, there being a great deal of ironstone about the rocks. It turned thecompass needle from its true north point to 10 degrees south of west, but the attraction ceased when the compass was removed four feet fromcontact with the rocks. The view from this mount was of singular andalmost awful beauty. The mount, and all the others connected with it, rose simply like islands out of a vast ocean of scrub. The beauty ofthe locality lay entirely within itself. Innumerable red ridgesornamented with fig-trees, rising out of green and grassy slopes, metthe eye everywhere to the east, north, and northeast, and the countrybetween each was just sufficiently timbered to add a charm to theview. But the appearance of water still was wanting; no signs of it, or of any basin or hollow that could hold it, met the gaze in anydirection, This alone was wanting to turn a wilderness into a garden. 

There were four large mounts in this chain, higher than any of therest, including the one I was on. Here we saw a quantity of what I atfirst thought were white sea-shells, but we found they were thebleached shells of land snails. Far away to the north some rangesappeared above the dense ocean of intervening scrubs. To the south, scrubs reigned supreme; but to the west, the region for which I wasbound, the prospect looked far more cheering. The far horizon, there, was bounded by a very long and apparently connected chain ofconsiderable elevation, seventy to eighty miles away. One conspicuousmountain, evidently nearer than the longer chain, bore 15 degrees tothe south of west, while an apparent gap or notch in the more distantline bore 23 degrees south of west. The intervening country appearedall flat, and very much more open than in any other direction; I coulddiscern long vistas of green grass, dotted with yellow immortelles, but as the perspective declined, these all became lost in lightlytimbered country. These grassy glades were fair to see, reminding onesomewhat of Merrie England's glades and Sherwood forests green, whereerrant knight in olden days rode forth in mailed sheen; and memoryoft, the golden rover, recalls the tales of old romance, how ladiebright unto her lover, some young knight, smitten with her glance, would point out some heroic labour, some unheard-of deed of fame; hemust carve out with his sabre, and ennoble thus his name. He, a giantmust defeat sure, he must free the land from tain, he must kill somemonstrous creature, or return not till 'twas slain. Then she'd smileon him victorious, call him the bravest in the land, fame and her, towin, how glorious--win and keep her heart and hand!

Although no water was found here, what it pleases me to call my mindwas immediately made up. I would return at once to the camp, wherewater was so scarce, and trust all to the newly discovered chain tothe west. Water must surely exist there, we had but to reach it. Inamed these mounts Ayers Range. Upon returning to our camp, six orseven miles off, I saw that a mere dribble of water remained in thetank. Gibson was away after the horses, and when he brought them, heinformed me he had found another place, with some water lying on therocks, and two native wells close by with water in them, muchshallower than our present one, and that they were about three milesaway. I rode off with him to inspect his new discovery, and saw therewas sufficient surface water for our horses for a day or two. 

These rocks are most singular, being mostly huge red, rounded solidblocks of stone, shaped like the backs of enormous turtles. I was muchpleased with Gibson's discovery, and we moved the camp down to thisspot, which we always after called the Turtle Back. The grass andherbage were excellent, but the horses had not had sufficient watersince we arrived here. It is wonderful how in such a rocky region solittle water appears to exist. The surface water was rather difficultfor the horses to reach, as it lay upon the extreme summit of therock, the sides of which were very steep and slippery. There wereplenty of small birds; hawks and crows, a species of cockatoo, somepigeons, and eagles soaring high above. More seeds were planted here, the soil being very good. Upon the opposite or eastern side of thisrock was a large ledge or cave, under which the Troglodytes of theserealms had frequently encamped. It was ornamented with many of theirrude representations of creeping things, amongst which the serpentclass predominated; there were also other hideous shapes, of thingssuch as can exist only in their imaginations, and they are but theweak endeavours of these benighted beings to give form and semblanceto the symbolisms of the dread superstitions, that, haunting thevacant chambers of their darkened minds, pass amongst them in theplace of either philosophy or religion. 

Next morning, watering all our horses, and having a fine open-air bathon the top of the Turtle Back, Mr. Tietkens and I got three of themand again started for Ayers Range, nearly west. Reaching it, wetravelled upon the bearing of the gap which we had seen in the mostdistant range. The country as we proceeded we found splendidly open, beautifully grassed, and it rose occasionally into some low ridges. Atfifteen miles from the Turtle Back we found some clay-pans with water, where we turned out our horses for an hour. A mob of emus came toinspect us, and Mr. Tietkens shot one in a fleshy part of the neck, which rather helped it to run away at full speed instead of detaining, so that we might capture it. Next some parallel ridges lying north andsouth were crossed, where some beefwood, or Grevillea trees, ornamented the scene, the country again opening into beautiful grassylawns. One or two creek channels were crossed, and a larger onefarther on, whose timber indeed would scarcely reach our course; as itwould not come to us, we went to it. The gum-timber upon it was thickand vigorous--it came from the north-westward. A quantity of the socalled tea-tree [Melaleuca] grew here. In two miles up the channel wefound where a low ridge crossed and formed a kind of low pass. An oldnative well existed here, which, upon cleaning out with a quart pot, disclosed the element of our search to our view at a depth of nearlyfive feet. The natives always make these wells of such an abominableshape, that of a funnel, never thinking how awkward they must be towhite men with horses--some people are so unfeeling! It took us a longtime to water our three horses. There was a quantity of the littlepurple vetch here, of which all animals are so fond, and which is sofattening. There was plenty of this herb at the Turtle Back, andwherever it grows it gives the country a lovely carnation tinge; this, blending with the bright green of the grass, and the yellow and othertinted hues of several kinds of flowers, impresses on the whole regionthe appearance of a garden. 

In the morning, in consequence of a cold and dewy night, the horsesdeclined to drink. Regaining our yesterday's course, we continued forten miles, when we noticed that the nearest mountain seen from AyersRange was now not more than thirty miles away. It appeared red, bald, and of some altitude; to our left was another mass of jumbled turtlebacks, and we turned to search for water among them. A small gum creekto the south-south-east was first visited and left in disgust, and allthe rocks and hills we searched, were equally destitute of water. Wewasted the rest of the day in fruitless search; Nature seemed to havemade no effort whatever to form any such thing as a rockhole, and wesaw no place where the natives had ever even dug. We had been ridingfrom morning until night, and we had neither found water nor reachedthe mountain. We returned to our last night's camp, where the sand hadall fallen into the well, and we had our last night's performance withthe quart pot to do over again. 

In the morning I decided to send Mr. Tietkens back to the camp tobring the party here, while I went to the mountain to search forwater. We now discovered we had brought but a poor supply of food, andthat a hearty supper would demolish the lot, so we had to be sadlyeconomical. When we got our horses the next morning we departed, eachon his separate errand--Mr. Tietkens for the camp, I for the mountain. I made a straight course for it, and in three or four miles found thecountry exceedingly scrubby. At ten miles I came upon a number ofnative huts, which were of large dimensions and two-storied; by this Imean they had an upper attic, or cupboard recess. When the nativesreturn to these, I suppose they know of some water, or else get it outof the roots of trees. The scrubs became thicker and thicker, and onlyat intervals could the mountain be seen. At a spot where the nativeshad burnt the old grass, and where some new rich vegetation grew, Igave my horse the benefit of an hour's rest, for he had cometwenty-two miles. The day was delightful; the thermometer registeredonly 76 degrees in the shade. I had had a very poor breakfast, and nowhad an excellent appetite for all the dinner I could command, and Icould not help thinking that there is a great deal of sound philosophyin the Chinese doctrine, That the seat of the mind and the intellectis situate in the stomach. 

Starting again and gaining a rise in the dense ocean of scrub, I got asight of the mountain, whose appearance was most wonderful; it seemedso rifted and riven, and had acres of bare red rock without a shrub ortree upon it. I next found myself under the shadow of a huge rocktowering above me amidst the scrubs, but too hidden to perceive untilI reached it. On ascending it I was much pleased to discover, at amile and a half off, the gum timber of a creek which meandered throughthis wilderness. On gaining its banks I was disappointed to find thatits channel was very flat and poorly defined, though the timber uponit was splendid. Elegant upright creamy stems supported theirumbrageous tops, whose roots must surely extend downwards to amoistened soil. On each bank of the creek was a strip of green andopen ground, so richly grassed and so beautifully bedecked withflowers that it seemed like suddenly escaping from purgatory intoparadise when emerging from the recesses of the scrubs on to the banksof this beautiful, I wish I might call it, stream. 

Opposite to where I struck it stood an extraordinary hill or ridge, consisting of a huge red turtle back having a number of enormous redstones almost egg-shaped, traversing, or rather standing in a rowupon, its whole length like a line of elliptical Tors. I could compareit to nothing else than an enormous oolitic monster of the turtle kindcarrying its eggs upon its back. A few cypress pine-trees grew in theinterstices of the rocks, giving it a most elegant appearance. Hopingto find some rock or other reservoir of water, I rode over to thiscreature, or feature. Before reaching its foot, I came upon a smallpiece of open, firm, grassy ground, most beautifully variegated withmany-coloured vegetation, with a small bare piece of ground in thecentre, with rain water lying on it. The place was so exquisitelylovely it seemed as if only rustic garden seats were wanting, to provethat it had been laid out by the hand of man. But it was only aninstance of one of Nature's freaks, in which she had so successfullyimitated her imitator, Art. I watered my horse and left him to grazeon this delectable spot, while I climbed the oolitic's back. There wasnot sufficient water in the garden for all my horses, and it wasactually necessary for me to find more, or else the region would beuntenable. 

The view from this hill was wild and strange; the high, bald foreheadof the mountain was still four or five miles away, the country betweenbeing all scrub. The creek came from the south-westward, and was lostin the scrubs to the east of north. A thick and vigorous clump ofeucalypts down the creek induced me first to visit them, but thechannel was hopelessly dry. Returning, I next went up the creek, andcame to a place where great boulders of stone crossed the bed, andwhere several large-sized holes existed, but were now dry. Hard by, however, I found a damp spot, and near it in the sand a native well, not more than two feet deep, and having water in it. Still farther upI found an overhanging rock, with a good pool of water at its foot, and I was now satisfied with my day's work. Here I camped. I made afire at a large log lying in the creek bed; my horse was up to hiseyes in most magnificent herbage, and I could not help envying him asI watched him devouring his food. I felt somewhat lonely, andcogitated that what has been written or said by cynics, solitaries, orByrons, of the delights of loneliness, has no real home in the humanheart. Nothing could appal the mind so much as the contemplation ofeternal solitude. Well may another kind of poet exclaim, Oh, solitude!where are the charms that sages have seen in thy face? for humansympathy is one of the passions of human nature. Natives had been herevery recently, and the scrubs were burning, not far off to thenorthwards, in the neighbourhood of the creek channel. As nightdescended, I lay me down by my bright camp fire in peace to sleep, though doubtless there are very many of my readers who would scarcelylike to do the same. Such a situation might naturally lead one toconsider how many people have lain similarly down at night, in fanciedsecurity, to be awakened only by the enemies' tomahawk crashingthrough their skulls. Such thoughts, if they intruded themselves uponmy mind, were expelled by others that wandered away to differentscenes and distant friends, for this Childe Harold also had a mothernot forgot, and sisters whom he loved, but saw them not, ere yet hisweary pilgrimage begun. 

Dreams also, between sleeping and waking, passed swiftly through mybrain, and in my lonely sleep I had real dreams, sweet, fanciful, andbright, mostly connected with the enterprise upon which I hadembarked--dreams that I had wandered into, and was passing through, tracts of fabulously lovely glades, with groves and grottos green, watered by never-failing streams of crystal, dotted with clusters ofmagnificent palm-trees, and having groves, charming groves, of thefairest of pines, of groves "whose rich trees wept odorous gums andbalm. "

 "And all throughout the night there reigned the sense Of waking dream, with luscious thoughts o'erladen; Of joy too conscious made, and too intense, By the swift advent of this longed-for aidenn. "

On awaking, however, I was forced to reflect, how "mysterious arethese laws! The vision's finer than the view: her landscape Naturenever draws so fair as fancy drew. " The morning was cold, thethermometer stood at 28 degrees, and now--

 "The morn was up again, the dewy morn; With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And smiling, as if earth contained no tomb: And glowing into day. "

With this charming extract from Byron for breakfast I saddled myhorse, having nothing more to detain me here, intending to bring upthe whole party as soon as possible. 

(ILLUSTRATION: TIETKEN'S BIRTHDAY CREEK AND MOUNT CARNARVON. )

(ILLUSTRATION: ON BIRTHDAY CREEK. )

I now, however, returned by a more southerly route, and found thescrubs less thick, and came to some low red rises in them. Havingtravelled east, I now turned on the bearing for the tea-tree creek, where the party ought now to be. At six miles on this line I came uponsome open ground, and saw several emus. This induced me to look aroundfor water, and I found some clay-pans with enough water to last aweek. I was very well pleased, as this would save time and trouble indigging at the tea-tree. The water here was certainly rather thick, and scarcely fit for human organisms, at least for white ones, thoughit might suit black ones well enough, and it was good enough for ourhorses, which was the greatest consideration. I rested my horse herefor an hour, and then rode to the tea-tree. The party, however, werenot there, and I waited in expectation of their arrival. In about anhour Mr. Tietkens came and informed me that on his return to the campthe other day he had found a nice little water, six miles from here, and where the party was, and to which we now rode together. At thisagreeable little spot were the three essentials for an explorer'scamp--that is to say, wood, water, and grass. From there we went to myclay pans, and the next day to my lonely camp of dreams. This, the30th August, was an auspicious day in our travels, it being no lessthan Mr. Tietkens's nine-and-twentieth birthday. We celebrated it withwhat honours the expedition stores would afford, obtaining a flatbottle of spirits from the medical department, with which we drank tohis health and many happier returns of the day. In honour of theoccasion I called this Tietkens's Birthday Creek, and hereby proclaimit unto the nations that such should be its name for ever. The campwas not moved, but Mr. Tietkens and I rode over to the high mountainto-day, taking with us all the apparatus necessary for so great anascent--that is to say, thermometer, barometer, compass, fieldglasses, quart pot, waterbag, and matches. In about four miles wereached its foot, and found its sides so bare and steep that I tookoff my boots for the ascent. It was formed for the most part like astupendous turtle back, of a conglomerate granite, with no signs ofwater, or any places that would retain it for a moment, round or nearits base. Upon reaching its summit, the view was most extensive inevery direction except the west, and though the horizon was bounded inall directions by ranges, yet scrubs filled the entire spaces between. To the north lay a long and very distant range, which I thought mightbe the Gill's Range of my last expedition, though it would certainlybe a stretch either of imagination or vision, for that range wasnearly 140 miles away. 

To the north-westward was a flat-topped hill, rising like a table froman ocean of scrub; it was very much higher than such hills usuallyare. This was Mount Conner. To the south, and at a considerabledistance away, lay another range of some length, apparently also ofconsiderable altitude. I called this the Everard Range. The horizonwestward was bounded by a continuous mass of hills or mountains, fromthe centre of which Birthday Creek seemed to issue. Many of the mountswestward appeared of considerable elevation. The natives were burningthe scrubs west and north-west. On the bare rocks of this mountain wesaw several white, bleached snail-shells. I was grieved to find thatmy barometer had met with an accident in our climb; however, bytesting the boiling point of water I obtained the altitude. 

Water boiled at 206 degrees, giving an elevation of 3085 feet abovethe level of the sea, it being about 1200 feet above the surroundingcountry. The view of Birthday Creek winding along in little bendsthrough the scrubs from its parent mountains, was most pleasing. Downbelow us were some very pretty little scenes. One was a small sandychannel, like a plough furrow, with a few eucalyptus trees upon it, running from a ravine near the foot of this mount, which passed atabout a mile through two red mounds of rock, only just wide enoughapart to admit of its passage. A few cypress pines were growing closeto the little gorge. On any other part of the earth's surface, if, indeed, such another place could be found, water must certainly existalso, but here there was none. We had a perfect bird's-eye view of thespot. We could only hope, for beauty and natural harmony's sake, thatwater must exist, at least below the surface, if not above. Havingcompleted our survey, we descended barefooted as before. 

On reaching the camp, Gibson and Jimmy had shot some parrots and otherbirds, which must have flown down the barrels of their guns, otherwisethey never could have hit them, and we had an excellent supper ofparrot soup. Just here we have only seen parrots, magpies and a fewpigeons, though plenty of kangaroo, wallaby, and emu; but have notsucceeded in bagging any of the latter game, as they are exceedinglyshy and difficult to approach, from being so continually hunted by thenatives. I named this very singular feature Mount Carnarvon, or TheSentinel, as soon I found

 "The mountain there did stand T sentinel enchanted land. "

The night was cold; mercury down to 26 degrees. What little dew fellbecame frosted; there was not sufficient to call it frozen. I found myposition here to be in latitude 26 degrees 3', longitude 132 degrees29'. 

In the night of the 1st September, heavy clouds were flying fastlyover us, and a few drops of rain fell at intervals. About ten o'clockp. M. I observed a lunar rainbow in the northern horizon; its diameterwas only about fifteen degrees. There were no prismatic coloursvisible about it. To-day was clear, fine, but rather windy. Wetravelled up the creek, skirting its banks, but cutting off the bends. We had low ridges on our right. The creek came for some distance fromthe south-west, then more southerly, then at ten miles, more directlyfrom the hills to the west. The country along its banks was excellent, and the scenery most beautiful--pine-clad, red, and rocky hills beingscattered about in various directions, while further to the west andsouth-west the high, bold, and very rugged chain rose into peaks andpoints. We only travelled sixteen miles, and encamped close to apretty little pine-clad hill, on the north bank of the creek, wheresome rocks traversed the bed, and we easily obtained a good supply ofwater. The grass and herbage being magnificent, the horses were in afine way to enjoy themselves. 

This spot is one of the most charming that even imagination couldpaint. In the background were the high and pointed peaks of the mainchain, from which sloped a delightful green valley; through this thecreek meandered, here and there winding round the foot of littlepine-clad hills of unvarying red colour, whilst the earth from whichthey sprung was covered with a carpet of verdure and vegetation ofalmost every imaginable hue. It was happiness to lie at ease upon sucha carpet and gaze upon such a scene, and it was happiness the moreecstatic to know that I was the first of a civilised race of men whohad ever beheld it. My visions of a former night really seemed to beprophetic. The trend of the creek, and the valley down which it came, was about 25 degrees south of west. We soon found it became contractedby impinging hills. At ten miles from camp we found a pool of water inthe bed. In about a couple of miles farther, to my surprise I found wehad reached its head and its source, which was the drainage of a bighill. There was no more water and no rock-holes, neither was there anygorge. Some triodia grew on the hills, but none on the lower ground. The valley now changed into a charming amphitheatre. We had thustraced our Birthday Creek, to its own birthplace. It has a shortcourse, but a merry one, and had ended for us at its proper beginning. As there appeared to be no water in the amphitheatre, we returned tothe pool we had seen in the creek. Several small branch creeks runningthrough pretty little valleys joined our creek to-day. We were nownear some of the higher cones of the main chain, and could see thatthey were all entirely timberless, and that triodia grew upon theirsides. The spot we were now encamped upon was another scene ofexquisite sylvan beauty. We had now been a month in the field, asto-morrow was the 4th of September, and I could certainly congratulatemyself upon the result of my first month's labour. 

The night was cold and windy, dense nimbus clouds hovered just abovethe mountain peaks, and threatened a heavy downpour of rain, but thedriving gale scattered them into the gelid regions of space, and aftersunrise we had a perfectly clear sky. I intended this morning to pushthrough what seemed now, as it had always seemed from the first momentI saw this range, a main gap through the chain. Going north round apointed hill, we were soon in the trend of the pass; in five miles wereached the banks of a new creek, running westerly into another, orelse into a large eucalyptus flat or swamp, which had no apparentoutlet. This heavy timber could be seen for two or three miles. Advancing still further, I soon discovered that we were upon the reedybanks of a fast flowing stream, whose murmuring waters, ever rushingidly and unheeded on, were now for the first time disclosed to thedelighted eyes of their discoverer. 

Here I had found a spot where Nature truly had

"Shed o'er the scene her purest of crystal, her brightest of green. "

This was really a delightful discovery. Everything was of the bestkind here--timber, water, grass, and mountains. In all my wanderings, over thousands of miles in Australia, I never saw a more delightfuland fanciful region than this, and one indeed where a white man mightlive and be happy. My dreams of a former night were of a verityrealised. 

Geographically speaking, we had suddenly come almost upon the extremehead of a large water course. Its trend here was nearly south, and Ifound it now ran through a long glen in that direction. 

We saw several fine pools and ponds, where the reeds opened in thechannel, and we flushed up and shot several lots of ducks. This creekand glen I have named respectively the Ferdinand and Glen Ferdinand, after the Christian name of Baron von Mueller. (The names having astar * against them in this book denote contributors to the fundraised by Baron Mueller* for this expedition. --E. G. ) The glen extendednearly five miles, and where it ended, the water ceased to show uponthe surface. At the end of the glen we encamped, and I do not rememberany day's work during my life which gave me more pleasure than this, for I trust it will be believed that:--

 "The proud desire of sowing broad the germs of lasting worth Shall challenge give to scornful laugh of careless sons of earth; Though mirth deride, the pilgrim feet that tread the desert plain, The thought that cheers me onward is, I have not lived in vain. "

After our dinner Mr. Tietkens and I ascended the highest mountain inthe neighbourhood--several others not far away were higher, but thiswas the most convenient. Water boiled at its summit at 204 degrees, which gives an altitude above sea level of 4131 feet, it being about1500 feet above the surrounding country. I called this MountFerdinand, and another higher point nearly west of it I called MountJames-Winter*. The view all round from west to north was shut out. Tothe south and south-east other ranges existed. The timber of theFerdinand could be traced for many miles in a southerly direction; itfinally became lost in the distance in a timbered if not a scrubbycountry. This mountain was highly magnetic. I am surprised at seeingso few signs of natives in this region. We returned to the camp andsowed seeds of many cereals, fodder plants, and vegetables. A greatquantity of tea-tree grew in this glen. The water was pure and fresh. 

Two or three miles farther down, the creek passed between two hills;the configuration of the mountains now compelled me to take asouth-westerly valley for my road. In a few miles another finecreek-channel came out of the range to the north of us, near the footof Mount James-Winter; it soon joined a larger one, up which wasplenty of running water; this I called the Reid*. We were nowtraversing another very pretty valley running nearly west, with finecotton and salt-bush flats, while picturesque cypress pines coveredthe hills on both sides of us. Under some hills which obstructed ourcourse was another creek, where we encamped, the grass and herbagebeing most excellent; and this also was a very pretty place. Ourlatitude here was 26 degrees 24'. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ENCOUNTER WITH THE NATIVES AT "THE OFFICER, " MUSGRAVERANGE. )

Gibson went away on horseback this morning to find the others, butcame back on foot to say he had lost the one he started with. Weeventually got them all, and proceeded down the creek south, thenthrough a little gap west, on to the banks of a fine large creek withexcellent timber on it. The natives were burning the grass up thechannel north-westerly. Mr. Tietkens and I rode up in advance toreconnoitre; we went nearly three miles, when we came to runningwater. At the same time we evidently disturbed a considerable numberof natives, who raised a most frightful outcry at our sudden andunexpected advent amongst them. Those nearest to us walked slowly intothe reeds, rushes, tea-trees, and high salt bushes, but deliberatelywatching our every movement. While watering our horses a great manyfrom the outskirts ran at us, poising and quivering their spears, someof which were over ten feet long; of these, every individual had anextraordinary number. When they saw us sitting quietly, but notcomfortably, on our horses, which became very frightened andimpatient, they renewed their horrible yells and gesticulations, somewaving us away, others climbing trees, and directing their spears atus from the branches. Another lot on the opposite side of the creeknow came rushing up with spears advanced and ensigns spread, and withtheir yells and cries encouraged those near to spear us. They seemed, however, to have some doubts of the nature or vulnerability of ourhorses. At the head of our new assailants was one sophisticated enoughto be able to call out, "Walk, white fellow, walk;" but as we stillremained immobile, he induced some others to join in making a rush atus, and they hurled their jagged spears at us before we could get outof the way. It was fortunate indeed that we were at the extremedistance that these weapons can be projected, for they struck theground right amongst our horses' hoofs, making them more restive thanever. 

I now let our assailants see we were not quite so helpless as theymight have supposed. I unslipped my rifle, and the bullet, going sosuddenly between two of these worthies and smashing some boughs justbehind them, produced silence amongst the whole congregation, at leastfor a moment. All this time we were anxiously awaiting the arrival ofGibson and Jimmy, as my instructions were that if we did not return ina given time, they were to follow after us. But these valiantretainers, who admitted they heard the firing, preferred to remain outof harm's way, leaving us to kill or be killed, as the fortunes of warmight determine; and we at length had to retreat from our sableenemies, and go and find our white friends. We got the mob of horsesup, but the yelling of these fiends in human form, the clouds of smokefrom the burning grass and bushes, and the many disagreeable odoursincident to a large native village, and the yapping and howling of alot of starving dogs, all combined to make us and our horsesexceedingly restless. They seemed somewhat overawed by the number ofthe horses, and though they crowded round from all directions, forthere were more than 200 of them, the women and children being sentaway over the hills at our first approach, they did not then throw anymore spears. I selected as open a piece of ground as I could get forthe camp, which, however, was very small, back from the water, andnearly under the foot of a hill. When they saw us dismount, for Ibelieve they had previously believed ourselves and our horses to formone animal, and begin to unload the horses, they proceeded properly towork themselves up for a regular onslaught. So long as the horsesremained close, they seemed disinclined to attack, but when they werehobbled and went away, the enemy made a grand sortie, rushing down thehill at the back of the camp where they had congregated, towards us ina body with spears fitted in pose and yelling their war cries. 

Our lives were in imminent danger; we had out all the firearms wecould muster; these amounted to two rifles, two shot guns, and fiverevolvers. I watched with great keenness the motion of their arms thatgives the propulsion to their spears, and the instant I observed that, I ordered a discharge of the two rifles and one gun, as it was no usewaiting to be speared first. I delayed almost a second too long, forat the instant I gave the word several spears had left the enemy'shands, and it was with great good fortune we avoided them. Our shots, as I had ordered, cut up the ground at their feet, and sent the sandand gravel into their eyes and faces; this and the noise of thedischarge made the great body of them pause. Availing ourselves ofthis interval, we ran to attack them, firing our revolvers in quicksuccession as we ran. This, with the noise and the to themextraordinary phenomenon of a projectile approaching them which theycould not see, drove them up into the hills from which they hadapproached us, and they were quiet for nearly an hour, except fortheir unceasing howls and yells, during which time we made an attemptat getting some dinner. That meal, however, was not completed when wesaw them stealing down on us again. Again they came more than ahundred strong, with heads held back, and arms at fullest tension togive their spears the greatest projective force, when, just as theycame within spear shot, for we knew the exact distance now, we gavethem another volley, striking the sand up just before their feet;again they halted, consulting one another by looks and signs, when thedischarge of Gibson's gun, with two long-distance cartridges, decidedthem, and they ran back, but only to come again. In consequence of ournot shooting any of them, they began to jeer and laugh at us, slappingtheir backsides at and jumping about in front of us, and indecentlydaring and deriding us. These were evidently some of those lewdfellows of the baser sort (Acts 17 5). We were at length compelled tosend some rifle bullets into such close proximity to some of theirlimbs that at last they really did believe we were dangerous folkafter all. Towards night their attentions ceased, and though theycamped just on the opposite side of the creek, they did not trouble usany more. Of course we kept a pretty sharp watch during the night. Themen of this nation were tall, big, and exceedingly hirsute, and inexcellent bodily condition. They reminded me of, as no doubt they are, the prototypes of the account given by the natives of the CharlotteWaters telegraph station, on my first expedition, who declared thatout to the west were tribes of wild blacks who were cannibals, whowere covered with hair, and had long manes hanging down their backs. 

None of these men, who perhaps were only the warriors of the tribe, were either old or grey-haired, and although their features in generalwere not handsome, some of the younger ones' faces were prepossessing. Some of them wore the chignon, and others long curls; the youngestones who wore curls looked at a distance like women. A number werepainted with red ochre, and some were in full war costume, withfeathered crowns and head dresses, armlets and anklets of feathers, and having alternate stripes of red and white upon the upper portionsof their bodies; the majority of course were in undress uniform. Iknew as soon as I arrived in this region that it must be well if notdensely populated, for it is next to impossible in Australia for anexplorer to discover excellent and well-watered regions without cominginto deadly conflict with the aboriginal inhabitants. The aboriginesare always the aggressors, but then the white man is a trespasser inthe first instance, which is a cause sufficient for any atrocity to becommitted upon him. I named this Encounter Creek The Officer. * Therewas a high mount to the north-east from here, which lay nearly westfrom Mount James-Winter, which I called Mount Officer. *

Though there was a sound of revelry or devilry by night in the enemy'scamp, ours was not passed in music, and we could not therefore listento the low harmonics that undertone sweet music's roll. Gibson got oneof the horses which was in sight, to go and find the others, while Mr. Tietkens took Jimmy with him to the top of a hill in order to takesome bearings for me, while I remained at the camp. No sooner did thenatives see me alone than they recommenced their malpractices. I hadmy arsenal in pretty good fighting order, and determined, if theypersisted in attacking me, to let some of them know the consequences. I was afraid that some might spear me from behind while others engagedme in front. I therefore had to be doubly on the alert. A mob of themcame, and I fired in the air, then on the ground, at one side of themand then at the other. At last they fell back, and when the others andthe horses appeared, though they kept close round us, watching everymovement, yelling perpetually, they desisted from further attack. Iwas very gratified to think afterwards that no blood had been shed, and that we had got rid of our enemies with only the loss of a littleammunition. Although this was Sunday, I did not feel quite so safe asif I were in a church or chapel, and I determined not to remain. Thehorses were frightened at the incessant and discordant yells andshrieks of these fiends, and our ears also were perfectly deafenedwith their outcries. 

We departed, leaving the aboriginal owners of this splendid piece ofland in the peaceful possession of their beautiful hunting grounds, and travelled west through a small gap into a fine valley. The mainrange continued stretching away north of us in high and heavy massesof hills, and with a fine open country to the south. At ten miles wecame to another fine creek, where I found water running; this I calledthe Currie*. It was late when, in six miles further, we reachedanother creek, where we got water and a delightful camp. I called thisthe Levinger*. The country to-day was excellent, being fine open, grassy valleys all the way; all along our route in this range we sawgreat quantities of white snail-shells, in heaps, at old nativeencampments, and generally close to their fireplaces. In crevices andunder rocks we found plenty of the living snails, large and brown; itwas evident the natives cook and eat them, the shells turning white inthe fire, also by exposure to the sun. On starting again we travelledabout west-north-west, and we passed through a piece of timberedcountry; at twelve miles we arrived at another fine watercourse. Thehorses were almost unmanageable with flashness, running about withtheir mouths full of the rich herbage, kicking up their heels andbiting at one another, in a perfect state of horse-play. It was almostlaughable to see them, with such heavy packs on their backs, attempting such elephantine gambols; so I kept them going, to steadythem a bit. The creek here I called Winter* Water. At five milesfarther we passed a very high mountain in the range, which appearedthe highest I had seen; I named it Mount Davenport. We next passedthrough a small gap, over a low hill, and immediately on ourappearance we heard the yells and outcries of natives down on a smallflat below. All we saw, however, was a small, and I hope happy, family, consisting of two men, one woman, and another youthfulindividual, but whether male or female I was not sufficiently near todetermine. When they saw us descend from the little hill, they veryquickly walked away, like respectable people. Continuing our course innearly the same direction, west-north-west, and passing two littlecreeks, I climbed a small hill and saw a most beautiful valley about amile away, stretching north-west, with eucalyptus or gum timber up atthe head of it. The valley appeared entirely enclosed by hills, andwas a most enticing sight. Travelling on through 200 or 300 yards ofmulga, we came out on the open ground, which was really a sight thatwould delight the eyes of a traveller, even in the Province ofCashmere or any other region of the earth. The ground was covered witha rich carpet of grass and herbage; conspicuous amongst the latter wasan abundance of the little purple vetch, which, spreading overthousands of acres of ground, gave a lovely pink or magenta tinge tothe whole scene. I also saw that there was another valley runningnearly north, with another creek meandering through it, apparentlyjoining the one first seen. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE FAIRIES' GLEN. )

Passing across this fairy space, I noticed the whitish appearancesthat usually accompany springs and flood-marks in this region. We soonreached a most splendid kind of stone trough, under a little stonybank, which formed an excellent spring, running into and filling thelittle trough, running out at the lower end, disappearing below thesurface, evidently perfectly satisfied with the duties it had toperform. 

This was really the most delightful spot I ever saw; a region like agarden, with springs of the purest water spouting out of the ground, ever flowing into a charming little basin a hundred yards long bytwenty feet wide and four feet deep. There was a quantity of thetea-tree bush growing along the various channels, which all containedrunning water. 

The valley is surrounded by picturesque hills, and I am certain it isthe most charming and romantic spot I ever shall behold. I immediatelychristened it the Fairies' Glen, for it had all the characteristics tomy mind of fairyland. Here we encamped. I would not have missedfinding such a spot, upon--I will not say what consideration. Herealso of course we saw numbers of both ancient and modern native huts, and this is no doubt an old-established and favourite camping ground. And how could it be otherwise? No creatures of the human race couldview these scenes with apathy or dislike, nor would any sentientbeings part with such a patrimony at any price but that of theirblood. But the great Designer of the universe, in the long pastperiods of creation, permitted a fiat to be recorded, that the beingswhom it was His pleasure in the first instance to place amidst theselovely scenes, must eventually be swept from the face of the earth byothers more intellectual, more dearly beloved and gifted than they. Progressive improvement is undoubtedly the order of creation, and weperhaps in our turn may be as ruthlessly driven from the earth byanother race of yet unknown beings, of an order infinitely higher, infinitely more beloved, than we. On me, perchance, the eternalobloquy of the execution of God's doom may rest, for being the firstto lead the way, with prying eye and trespassing foot, into regions sofair and so remote; but being guiltless alike in act or intention toshed the blood of any human creature, I must accept it without a sigh. 

The night here was cold, the mercury at daylight being down to 24degrees, and there was ice on the water or tea left in the pannikinsor billies overnight. 

This place was so charming that I could not tear myself away. Mr. Tietkens and I walked to and climbed up a high mount, about threemiles north-easterly from camp; it was of some elevation. We ascendedby a gorge having eucalyptus and callitris pines halfway up. We foundwater running from one little basin to another, and high up, near thesummit, was a bare rock over which water was gushing. To us, as weclimbed towards it, it appeared like a monstrous diamond hung inmid-air, flashing back the rays of the morning sun. I called thisMount Oberon, after Shakespeare's King of the Fairies. The view fromits summit was limited. To the west the hills of this chain still runon; to the east I could see Mount Ferdinand. The valley in which thecamp and water was situate lay in all its loveliness at our feet, andthe little natural trough in its centre, now reduced in size bydistance, looked like a silver thread, or, indeed, it appeared more asthough Titania, the Queen of the Fairies, had for a moment laid hermagic silver wand upon the grass, and was reposing in the sunlightamong the herbage and the flowers. The day was lovely, the sky sereneand clear, and a gentle zephyr-like breeze merely agitated theatmosphere. As we sat gazing over this delightful scene, and havingfound also so many lovely spots in this chain of mountains, I wastempted to believe I had discovered regions which might eventuallysupport, not only flocks and herds, but which would become the centresof population also, each individual amongst whom would envy me usbeing the first discoverer of the scenes it so delighted them to view. For here were:--

 "Long dreamy lawns, and birds on happy wings Keeping their homes in never-rifled bowers; Cool fountains filling with their murmuring The sunny silence 'twixt the charming hours. "

In the afternoon we returned to the camp, and again and again wonderedat the singular manner in which the water existed here. Five hundredyards above or below there is no sign of water, but in thatintermediate space a stream gushes out of the ground, fills a splendidlittle trough, and gushes into the ground again: emblematic indeed ofthe ephemeral existence of humanity--we rise out of the dust, flashfor a brief moment in the light of life, and in another we are gone. We planted seeds here; I called it Titania's Spring, the watercoursein which it exists I called Moffatt's* Creek. 

The night was totally different from the former, the mercury notfalling below 66 degrees. The horses upon being brought up to the campthis morning on foot, displayed such abominable liveliness andflashness, that there was no catching them. One colt, Blackie, who wasthe leader of the riot, I just managed at length to catch, and then wehad to drive the others several times round the camp at a gallop, before their exuberance had in a measure subsided. It seemed, indeed, as if the fairies had been bewitching them during the night. It waslate when we left the lovely spot. A pretty valley running north-west, with a creek in it, was our next road; our track wound about throughthe most splendidly grassed valleys, mostly having a trend westerly. At twelve miles we saw the gum timber of a watercourse, apparentlydebouching through a glen. Of course there was water, and a channelfilled with reeds, down which the current ran in never-failingstreams. This spot was another of those charming gems which exist insuch numbers in this chain. This was another of those "secret nooks ina pleasant land, by the frolic fairies planned. " I called the placeGlen Watson*. From a hill near I discovered that this chain had nowbecome broken, and though it continues to run on still farther west, it seemed as though it would shortly end. The Mount Olga of my formerexpedition was now in view, and bore north 17 degrees west, aconsiderable distance away. I was most anxious to visit it. On myformer journey I had made many endeavours to reach it, but wasprevented; now, however, I hoped no obstacle would occur, and I shalltravel towards it to-morrow. There was more than a mile of runningwater here, the horses were up to their eyes in the most luxuriantvegetation, and our encampment was again in a most romantic spot. Ah!why should regions so lovely be traversed so soon? This chain ofmountains is called the Musgrave Range. A heavy dew fell last night, produced, I imagine, by the moisture in the glen, and not byextraneous atmospheric causes, as we have had none for some nightspreviously. 

CHAPTER 2. 3. FROM 10TH SEPTEMBER TO 30TH SEPTEMBER, 1873. 

Leave for Mount Olga. Change of scene. Desert oak-trees. The Mann range. Fraser's Wells. Mount Olga's foot. Gosse's expedition. Marvellous mountain. Running water. Black and gold butterflies. Rocky bath. Ayers' Rock. Appearance of Mount Olga. Irritans camp. Sugar-loaf Hill. Collect plants. Peaches. A patch of better country. A new creek and glen. Heat and cold. A pellucid pond. Zoe's Glen. Christy Bagot's Creek. Stewed ducks. A lake. Hector's Springs and Pass. Lake Wilson. Stevenson's Creek. Milk thistles. Beautiful amphitheatre. A carpet of verdure. Green swamp. Smell of camels. How I found Livingstone. Gabriel Daniel Fahrenheit. Cotton and salt bush flats. The Champ de Mars. Sheets of water. Peculiar tree. Pleasing scene. Harriet's Springs. Water in grass. Ants and burrs. Mount Aloysius. Across the border. The Bell Rock. 

We left this pretty glen with its purling stream and reedy bed, andentered very shortly upon an entirely different country, covered withporcupine grass. We went north-west to some ridges at seventeen miles, where there was excellent vegetation, but no water. I noticed to-dayfor the first time upon this expedition some of the desert oak trees(Casuarina Decaisneana). Nine miles farther we reached a round hill, from which Mount Olga bore north. We were still a considerabledistance away, and as I did not know of any water existing at MountOlga, I was anxious to find some, for the horses had none where weencamped last night. From this hill I could also see that the Musgravechain still ran on to the west; though broken and parted in masses, itrose again into high mounts and points. This continuation is calledthe Mann Range. Near the foot of the round hill I saw a small flatpiece of rock, barely perceptible among the grass; on it was an oldnative fireplace and a few dead sticks. On inspection there proved tobe two fine little holes or basins in the solid rock, with ample waterfor all my horses. Scrub and triodia existed in the neighbourhood, andthe feed was very poor. These were called Fraser's Wells. Mount Olgawas still fifty miles away. We now pushed on for it over some stonyand some scrubby country, and had to camp without water and withwretched feed for the horses. Casuarina trees were often passed. Wegenerally managed to get away early from a bad camp, and by the middleof the next day we arrived at the foot of Mount Olga. Here I perceivedthe marks of a wagon and horses, and camel tracks; these I knew atonce to be those of Gosse's expedition. Gosse had come down souththrough the regions, and to the watering places which I discovered inmy former journey. He had evidently gone south to the Mann range, andI expected soon to overtake him. I had now travelled four hundredmiles to reach this mount, which, when I first saw it, was onlyseventy-five or eighty miles distant. 

The appearance of this mountain is marvellous in the extreme, andbaffles an accurate description. I shall refer to it again, and mayremark here that it is formed of several vast and solid, huge, androunded blocks of bare red conglomerate stones, being composed ofuntold masses of rounded stones of all kinds and sizes, mixed likeplums in a pudding, and set in vast and rounded shapes upon theground. Water was running from the base, down a stony channel, fillingseveral rocky basins. The water disappeared in the sandy bed of thecreek, where the solid rock ended. We saw several quandongs, or nativepeach-trees, and some native poplars on our march to-day. I made anattempt to climb a portion of this singular mound, but the sides weretoo perpendicular; I could only get up about 800 or 900 feet, on thefront or lesser mound; but without kites and ropes, or projectiles, orwings, or balloons, the main summit is unscaleable. The quandong fruithere was splendid--we dried a quantity in the sun. Some very beautifulblack and gold, butterflies, with very large wings, were seen here andcollected. The thermometer to-day was 95 degrees in the shade. Weenjoyed a most luxurious bath in the rocky basins. We moved the campto softer ground, where there was a well-grassed flat a mile and ahalf away. To the east was a high and solitary mound, mentioned in myfirst journal as ranges to the east of Mount Olga, and apparentlylying north and south; this is called Ayers' Rock; I shall have tospeak of it farther on. To the west-south-west were some pointedridges, with the long extent of the Mann Ranges lying east and west, far beyond them to the south. 

The appearance of Mount Olga from this camp is truly wonderful; itdisplayed to our astonished eyes rounded minarets, giant cupolas, andmonstrous domes. There they have stood as huge memorials of theancient times of earth, for ages, countless eons of ages, since itscreation first had birth. The rocks are smoothed with the attrition ofthe alchemy of years. Time, the old, the dim magician, hasineffectually laboured here, although with all the powers of ocean athis command; Mount Olga has remained as it was born; doubtless by theagency of submarine commotion of former days, beyond even the epoch offar-back history's phantom dream. From this encampment I can onlyliken Mount Olga to several enormous rotund or rather ellipticalshapes of rouge mange, which had been placed beside one another bysome extraordinary freak or convulsion of Nature. I found two otherrunning brooks, one on the west and one on the north side. My firstencampment was on the south. The position of this extraordinaryfeature is in latitude 25 degrees 20' and longitude 130 degrees 57'. 

Leaving the mountain, we next traversed a region of sandy soil, risinginto sandhills, with patches of level ground between. There werecasuarinas and triodia in profusion--two different kinds of vegetationwhich appear to thoroughly enjoy one another's company. We went to thehills south south-westerly, and had a waterless camp in the porcupine, triodia, spinifex, Festuca irritans, and everything-else-abominable, grass; 95 degrees in shade. At about thirty-two miles from Mount Olgawe came to the foot of the hills, and I found a small supply of waterby digging; but at daylight next morning there was not sufficient forhalf the horses, so I rode away to look for more; this I found in achannel coming from a sugar-loaf or high-peaked hill. It was aterribly rough and rocky place, and it was too late to get the animalsup to the ledges where the water was, and they had to wait till nextday. 

From here I decided to steer for a notch in the Mann Range, nearlysouth-west. The country consisted chiefly of sandhills, with casuarinaand flats with triodia. We could get no water by night. I collected agreat quantity of various plants and flowers along all the way I hadcome in fact, but just about Mount Olga I fancied I had discoveredseveral new species. To-day we passed through some mallee, andgathered quandongs or native peach, which, with sugar, makes excellentjam; we also saw currajongs and native poplars. We now turned to someridges a few miles nearer than the main range, and dug a tank, for thehorses badly wanted water. A very small quantity drained in, and theanimals had to go a second night unwatered. It was now the 22nd ofSeptember, and I had hoped to have some rain at the equinox, but nonehad yet fallen. The last two days have been very warm and oppressive. The country round these ridges was very good, and plenty of the littlepurple vetch grew here. The tank in the morning was quite full; ithowever watered only seventeen horses, but by twelve o'clock all weresatisfied, and we left the tank for the benefit of those whom it mightconcern. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ZOE'S GLEN. )

We were steering for an enticing-looking glen between two high hillsabout south-south-west. We passed over sandhills, through scrubs, andeventually on to open ground. At two or three miles from the new rangewe crossed a kind of dry swamp or water flat, being the end of a gumcreek. A creek was seen to issue from the glen as we approached, andat twelve miles from our last camp we came upon running water in thethree channels which existed. The day was warm, 94 degrees. The waterwas slightly brackish. Heat and cold are evidently relativeperceptions, for this morning, although the thermometer stood at 58degrees, I felt the atmosphere exceedingly cold. We took a walk up theglen whence the creek flows, and on to some hills which environ it. The water was rushing rapidly down the glen; we found several finerock-basins--one in particular was nine or ten feet deep, the pellucidelement descending into it from a small cascade of the rocks above;this was the largest sheet of water per se I had yet discovered uponthis expedition. It formed a most picturesque and delightful bath, andas we plunged into its transparent depths we revelled, as it were, inan almost newly discovered element. I called this charming spot Zoe'sGlen. In our wanderings up the glen we had found books in the runningbrooks, and sermons in stones. The latitude of this pretty littleretreat was 25 degrees 59'. I rode a mile or two to the east toinspect another creek; its bed was larger than ours, and water wasrunning down its channel. I called it Christy Bagot's Creek. I flushedup a lot of ducks, but had no gun. On my return Gibson and Jimmy tookthe guns, and walked over on a shooting excursion; only three duckswere shot; of these we made an excellent stew. A strong gale of warmwind blew from the south all night. Leaving Zoe's Glen, we travelledalong the foot of the range to the south of us; at six or seven milesI observed a kind of valley dividing this range running south, andturned down into it. It was at first scrubby, then opened out. At fourmiles Mr. Tietkens and I mounted a rocky rise, and he, being ahead, first saw and informed me that there was a lake below us, two or threemiles away. I was very much gratified to see it, and we immediatelyproceeded towards it. The valley or pass had now become somewhatchoked with low pine-clad stony hills, and we next came upon a runningcreek with some fine little sheets of water; it meandered round thepiny hills and exhausted itself upon the bosom of the lake. I calledthese the Hector Springs and Hector Pass after Hector Wilson*. Onarrival at the lake I found its waters were slightly brackish; therewas no timber on its shores; it lay close under the foot of themountains, having their rocky slopes for its northern bank. Theopposite shore was sandy; numerous ducks and other water-fowl werefloating on its breast. Several springs from the ranges ran into itsnorthern shore, and on its eastern side a large creek ran in, thoughits timber did not grow all the way. The water was now eight or ninemiles round; it was of an oblong form, whose greatest length is eastand west. When quite full this basin must be at least twenty miles incircumference; I named this fine sheet of water Lake Wilson*. Theposition of this lake I made out to be in longitude 129 degrees 52'. Adisagreeable warm wind blew all day. 

The morning was oppressive, the warm south wind still blowing. We leftLake Wilson, named after Sir Samuel, who was the largest contributorto this expedition fund, in its wildness, its loneliness, and itsbeauty, at the foot of its native mountains, and went away to some lowhills south-south-west, where in nine miles we got some water in achannel I called Stevenson's* Creek. In a few miles further we foundourselves in a kind of glen where water bubbled up from the groundbelow. The channel had become filled with reeds, and great quantitiesof enormous milk or sow thistle (Sonchus oleraceous). Some of thehorses got bogged in this ravine, which caused considerable delay. Eventually it brought us out into a most beautiful amphitheatre, intowhich several creeks descended. This open space was covered with therichest carpet of verdure, and was a most enchanting spot. It wasnearly three miles across; we went over to its southern side, andcamped under the hills which fenced it there, and among them weobtained a supply of water. The grass and herbage here weremagnificent. The only opening to this beautiful oval was some distanceto the east; we therefore climbed over the hills to the south to getaway, and came upon another fine valley running westward, with acontinuous line of hills running parallel to it on the north. We madea meandering course, in a south-westerly direction, for about fifteenmiles, when the hills became low and isolated, and gave but a poorlook out for water. Other hills in a more continuous line bore to thenorth of west, to which we went. In three miles after this we came toa valley with a green swamp in the middle; it was too boggy to allowhorses to approach. A round hill in another valley was reached late, and here our pack-horses, being driven in a mob in front of us, puttheir noses to the ground and seemed to have smelt something unusual, which proved to be Mr. Gosse's dray track. Our horses were smellingthe scent of his camels from afar. The dray track was nowcomparatively fresh, and I had motives for following it. It was solate we had to encamp without finding the water, which I was quitesure was not far from us, and we turned out our horses hoping theymight discover it in the night. 

I went to sleep that night dreaming how I had met Mr. Gosse in thiswilderness, and produced a parody upon 'How I found Livingstone. ' Wetravelled nearly thirty miles to-day upon all courses, the countrypassed over being principally very fine valleys, richly clothed withgrass and almost every other kind of valuable herbage. Yesterday, the28th of September, was rather a warm day; I speak by the card, for atten o'clock at night Herr Gabriel Daniel Fahrenheit had notcondescended to fall below 82 degrees. The horses found water in thenight, and in the morning looked sleek and full. I intended now, as Isaid before, to follow Gosse's dray track, for I knew he could not bevery far in advance. 

We followed the track a mile, when it turned suddenly to thesouth-west, down a valley with a creek in it that lay in thatdirection. But as a more leading one ran also in a more westerlydirection, I left the dray track almost at right angles, and proceededalong the more westerly line. The valley I now traversed becamesomewhat scrubby with mallee and triodia. In seven or eight miles wegot into much better country, lightly timbered with mulga andsplendidly grassed. Here also were some cotton and salt bush flats. Tomy English reader I may say that these shrubs, or plants, or bushesare the most valuable fodder plants for stock known in Australia; theyare varieties of the Atriplex family of plants, and whenever I canrecord meeting them, I do it with the greatest satisfaction. At twelvemiles the hills to our north receded, and there lay stretched outbefore us a most beautiful plain, level as a billiard table and greenas an emerald. Viewing it from the top of a hill, I could not helpthinking what a glorious spot this would make for the display ofcavalry manoeuvres. In my mental eye I could see

 "The rush of squadrons sweeping, Like whirlwinds o'er the plain;"

and mentally hear

 "The shouting of the slayers, The screeching of the slain. "

I called this splendid circle the Champ de Mars; it is, I dare say, fifteen or sixteen miles round. The hills on the northern side weremuch higher than those near us, and appeared more inviting for water;so we rode across the circle to them. In a kind of gully between thehills, at four and a half miles, I found a rock-hole full of water ina triodia creek; it was seven or eight feet deep, and almost hiddenamongst rocks and scrubs. The water drained into the hole from above. By the time my horses were all satisfied they had lowered it veryconsiderably, and I did not think there would be a drink for them allin the morning; but when we took them up next day I found the rockybasin had been replenished during the night. 

A valley led away from here, along the foot of the northern hills, almost west. At five miles we crossed the channel of a fine littlecreek, coming from thence; it had several sheets of water with rockybanks, and there were numerous ducks on the waters. The timber uponthis creek was mostly blood-wood or red gum; the blood-wood has nowalmost entirely supplanted the other eucalypts. There was another treeof a very peculiar leaf which I have often met before, but only as abush; here it had assumed the proportions of a tree. This was one ofthe desert acacias, but which of them I could not tell. Farther onwere several bare red hills, festooned with cypress pines, whichalways give a most pleasing tone to any Australian view. These Icalled Harriet's Springs. The creek meandered away down the valleyamongst pine-clad hills to the south-westward, and appeared toincrease in size below where we crossed it. 

I ascended a hill and saw that the two lines of hills encircling theChamp de Mars had now entirely separated, the space between becominggradually broader. 

A pointed hill at the far end of the southern line bore west, and westarted away for it. We continued on this west course for fifteen orsixteen miles, having the southern hills very close to our line ofmarch. Having travelled some twenty miles, I turned up a blind gullyor water-channel in a small triodia valley, and found some water lyingabout amongst the grass. The herbage here was splendid. Ants and burrswere very annoying, however; we have been afflicted with both of theseanimal and vegetable annoyances upon many occasions all through theseregions. There was a high, black-looking mountain with a conicalsummit, in the northern line of ranges, which bore north-westward fromhere. I named it Mount Aloysius, after the Christian name of Sir A. F. Weld, Governor of Western Australia. We had entered the territory ofthe Colony of Western Australia on the last day of September; theboundary between it and South Australia being the 129th meridian ofeast longitude. The latitude by stars of this camp was 26 degrees 9'. Leaving it early, we continued upon the same line as yesterday, andtowards the same hill, which we reached in five miles, and ascended. It was nearly the most westerly point of the line of hills we had beenfollowing. The summit of this hill I found to consist of great massesof rifted stone, which were either solid iron or stone coated thicklywith it. The blocks rang with the sound of my iron-shod boots, whilemoving over them, with such a musical intonation and bell-like clang, that I called this the Bell Rock. Mount Aloysius bore north 9 degreeswest, distant about ten miles; here I saw it was quite an isolatedrange, as, at its eastern and western extremities, open spaces couldbe seen between it and any other hills. 

CHAPTER 2. 4. FROM 30TH SEPTEMBER TO 9TH NOVEMBER, 1873. 

Native encampment. Fires alight. Hogarth's Wells. Mount Marie and Mount Jeanie. Pointed ranges to the west. Chop a passage. Traces of volcanic action. Highly magnetic hills. The Leipoa ocellata. Tapping pits. Glen Osborne. Cotton-bush flats. Frowning bastion walls. Fort Mueller. A strong running stream. Natives' smokes. Gosse returning. Limestone formation. Native pheasants' nests. Egg-carrying. Mount Squires. The Mus conditor's nest. Difficulty with the horses. A small creek and native well. Steer for the west. Night work. Very desolate places. A circular storm. The Shoeing Camp. A bare hill. The Cups. Fresh looking creek. Brine and bitter water. The desert pea. Jimmy and the natives. Natives prowling at night. Searching for water. Horses suffering from thirst. Horseflesh. The Cob. The camp on fire. Men and horses choking for water. Abandon the place. Displeasing view. Native signs. Another cup. Thermometer 106 degrees. Return to the Cob. Old dry well. A junction from the east. Green rushes. Another waterless camp. Return to the Shoeing Camp. Intense cold. Biting dogs' noses. A nasal organ. Boiling an egg. Tietkens and Gibson return unsuccessful. Another attempt west. Country burnt by natives. 

We had now been travelling along the northern foot of the moresoutherly of the two lines of hills which separated, at the west endof the Champ de Mars; and on reaching the Bell Rock, this southernline ceased, while the northern one still ran on, though at diminishedelevation, and we now travelled towards two hills standing togetherabout west-north-west. On reaching them, in thirteen miles, I found anative encampment; there were several old and new bough gunyahs, andthe fires were alight at the doors? of many of them. We could not seethe people because they hid themselves, but I knew quite well theywere watching us close by. There was a large bare slab of rock, inwhich existed two fine cisterns several feet in depth, one much longerthan the other, the small one containing quite a sufficient supply forall my horses. I called these Hogarth's Wells, and the two hills MountMarie and Mount Jeanie. I was compelled to leave one of thesereceptacles empty, which for ages the simple inhabitants of theseregions had probably never seen dry before. Some hills laysouth-westerly, and we reached them in nine miles; they werewaterless. Southward the country appeared all scrub. The westernhorizon was broken by ranges with some high points amongst them; theywere a long way off. To the west-north-west some bald ranges also ranon. I made across to them, steering for a fall or broken gap to thenorth-north-west. This was a kind of glen, and I found a watercoursein it, with a great quantity of tea-tree, which completely choked upthe passage with good-sized trees, whose limbs and branches were sointerwoven that they prevented any animal larger than a man fromapproaching the water, bubbling along at their feet. We had to chop apassage to it for our horses. The hills were quite destitute oftimber, and were composed of huge masses of rifted granite, whichcould only have been so riven by seismatic action, which at one timemust have been exceedingly frequent in this region. 

I may mention that, from the western half of the Musgrave Range, allthe Mann, the Tomkinson, and other ranges westward have been shiveredinto fragments by volcanic force. Most of the higher points of all theformer and latter consist of frowning masses of black-looking orintensely red ironstone, or granite thickly coated with iron. Triodiagrows as far up the sides of the hills as it is possible to obtain anysoil; but even this infernal grass cannot exist on solid rock;therefore all the summits of these hills are bare. These shiveredmasses of stone have large interstices amongst them, which are thehomes, dens, or resorts of swarms of a peculiar marsupial known as therock wallaby, which come down on to the lower grounds at night tofeed. If they expose themselves in the day, they are the prey ofaborigines and eagles, if at night, they fall victims to wild dogs ordingoes. The rocks frequently change their contours from earthquakeshocks, and great numbers of these creatures are crushed and smashedby the trembling rocks, so that these unfortunate creatures, beset byso many dangers, exist always in a chronic state of fear and anxiety, and almost perpetual motion. These hills also have the metallic clangof the Bell Rock, and are highly magnetic. In the scrubs to-day Gibsonfound a Lowan's or scrub pheasant's nest. These birds inhabit the mostwaterless regions and the densest scrubs, and live entirely withoutwater. 

This bird is figured in Gould's work on Australian ornithology; it iscalled the Leipoa ocellata. Two specimens of these birds are preservedin the Natural History Department of the British Museum at Kensington. We obtained six fresh eggs from it. I found another, and got fivemore. We saw several native huts in the scrubs, some of them of largedimensions, having limbs of the largest trees they could get to buildthem with. When living here, the natives probably obtain water fromroots of the mulga. This must be the case, for we often see smallcircular pits dug at the foot of some of these trees, which, however, generally die after the operation of tapping. I called the spot GlenOsborne*; we rested here a day. We always have a great deal of sewingand repairing of the canvas pack-bags to do, and a day of rest usuallymeans a good day's work; it rests the horses, however, and that is themain thing. Saturday night, the 4th October, was a delightfully coolone, and on Sunday we started for some hills in a south-westerlydirection, passing some low ridges. We reached the higher ones intwenty-two miles. Nearing them, we passed over some fine cotton-bushflats, so-called from bearing a small cotton-like pod, and immediatelyat the hills we camped on a piece of plain, very beautifully grassed, and at times liable to inundation. It was late when we arrived; nowater could be found; but the day was cool, and the night promised tobe so too; and as I felt sure I should get water in these hills in themorning, I was not very anxious on account of the horses. These hillsare similar to those lately described, being greatly impregnated withiron and having vast upheavals of iron-coated granite, broken andlying in masses of black and pointed rock, upon all their summits. Their sides sloped somewhat abruptly, they were all highly magnetic, and had the appearance of frowning, rough-faced, bastion walls. Veryearly I climbed up the hills, and from the top I saw the place thatwas afterwards to be our refuge, though it was a dangerous one. Thisis called the Cavanagh Range, but as, in speaking of it as my depot, it was called Fort Mueller*, I shall always refer to it by that name. What I saw was a strong running stream in a confined rocky, scrubbyglen, and smokes from natives' fires. When bringing the horses, we hadto go over less difficult ground than I had climbed, and on the roadwe found another stream in another valley, watered the horses, and didnot then go to my first find. There was fine open, grassy country allround this range; we followed the creek down from the hills to it. Onreaching the lower grassy ground, we saw Mr. Gosse's dray-track again, and I was not surprised to see that the wagon had returned upon itsoutgoing track, and the party were now returning eastwards to SouthAustralia. I had for some days anticipated meeting him; but now he wasgoing east, and I west, I did not follow back after him. Shortlyafterwards, rounding the spurs of these hills, we came to the channelof the Fort Mueller creek, which I had found this morning, and thoughthere was no surface-water, we easily obtained some by digging in thesandy creek-bed. A peculiarity of the whole of this region is, thatwater cannot exist far from the rocky foundations of the hills; theinstant the valleys open and any soil appears, down sinks the water, though a fine stream may be running only a few yards above. Blanketswere again required for the last two nights. I found my position hereto be in latitude 26 degrees 12', longitude 127 degrees 59' 0". 

Leaving this encampment, we struck away for a new line of ranges. Thecountry was very peculiar, and different from any we had yet met; itwas open, covered with tall triodia, and consisted almost entirely oflimestone. At intervals, eucalyptus-trees of the mallee kind, and afew of the pretty-looking bloodwood-trees and some native poplars wereseen; there was no grass for several miles, and we only found somepoor dry stuff for the horses in a patch of scrub, the ground allround being stony and triodia-set. To-day we came upon three Lowans'or native pheasants' nests. These birds, which somewhat resembleguinea-fowl in appearance, build extraordinarily large nests of sand, in which they deposit small sticks and leaves; here the female laysabout a dozen eggs, the decomposition of the vegetable matterproviding the warmth necessary to hatch them. These nests are foundonly in thick scrubs. I have known them five to six feet high, of acircular conical shape, and a hundred feet round the base. The first, though of enormous size, produced only two eggs; the second, four, andthe third, six. We thanked Providence for supplying us with suchluxuries in such a wilderness. There are much easier feats to performthan the carrying of Lowans' eggs, and for the benefit of any readerswho don't know what those eggs are like, I may mention that they arelarger than a goose egg, and of a more delicious flavour than anyother egg in the world. Their shell is beautifully pink tinted, and soterribly fragile that, if a person is not careful in lifting them, thefingers will crunch through the tinted shell in an instant. Therefore, carrying a dozen of such eggs is no easy matter. I took upon myselfthe responsibility of bringing our prize safe into camp, and Iaccomplished the task by packing them in grass, tied up in ahandkerchief, and slung round my neck; a fine fardel hanging on mychest, immediately under my chin. A photograph of a person with suchan appendage would scarcely lead to recognition. We used some of theeggs in our tea as a substitute for milk. A few of the eggs proved topossess some slight germs of vitality, the preliminary process beingthe formation of eyes. But explorers in the field are not suchparticular mortals as to stand upon such trifles; indeed, parboiled, youthful, Lowans' eyes are considered quite a delicacy in the camp. 

At early dawn there was brilliant lightning to the west, and thehorizon in that direction became cloudy. Thunder also was heard, butwhatever storm there might have been, passed away to the south of us. In the course of a few miles we left the limestone behind, andsandhills again came on. We went over two low ridges, and five or sixmiles of scrub brought us to the hills we were steering for. Somepine-clad bare rocks induced us to visit them to see if there wererock-holes anywhere. Mr. Tietkens found a native well under one of therocks, but no water was seen in it, so we went to the higher hills, and in a gully found but a poor supply. There was every appearance ofapproaching rain, and we got everything under canvas, but in the nightof the 9th October a heavy gale of wind sprang up and blew away anyrain that might have fallen. As, however, it was still cloudy, weremained in camp. 

From the highest hill here, called Mount Squires, the appearance ofthe country surrounding was most strange. To the west, and round bynorth-west to north, was a mass of broken timbered hills with scrubbybelts between. The atmosphere was too hazy to allow of distinctvision, but I could distinguish lines of hills, if not ranges, to thewestward for a long distance. The view was by no means encouraging, but as hills run on, though entirely different now from those behindus, our only hope is that water may yet be discovered in them. Thewhole region round about was enveloped in scrubs, and the hills werenot much more than visible above them. 

The sky had remained cloudy all yesterday, and I hoped, if the windwould only cease, rain would surely fall; so we waited and hopedagainst hope. We had powerful reverberations of thunder, and forkedand vivid lightnings played around, but no rain fell, although theatmosphere was surcharged with electricity and moisture. Thewished-for rain departed to some far more favoured places, somehappier shores from these remote; and as if to mock our wishes, on thefollowing morning we had nearly three minutes' sprinkling of rain, andthen the sky became clear and bright. 

By this time we had used up all the water we could find, and had to gosomewhere else to get more. A terrible piece of next-to-impassablescrub, four or five miles through, lay right in our path; it also roseand fell into ridges and gullies in it. We saw one of the Musconditor, or building rats' nests, which is not the first we have seenby many on this expedition. The scrub being so dense, it wasimpossible to see more than two or three of the horses at a time, andthree different times some of them got away and tried to give us theslip; this caused a great deal of anxiety and trouble, besides loss oftime. Shortly after emerging from the scrubs, we struck a small creekwith one or two gumtrees on it; a native well was in the bed, and wemanaged to get water enough for the horses, we having only travelledsix miles straight all day. This was a very good, if not actually apretty, encampment; there was a narrow strip of open ground along thebanks, and good vegetation for the horses. We slept upon the sandy bedof the creek to escape the terrible quantities of burrs which grew allover these wilds. 

We steered away nearly west for the highest hills we had seenyesterday; there appeared a fall or gap between two; the scrubs werevery thick to-day, as was seen by the state of our pack-bags, aninfallible test, when we stopped for the night, during the greaterpart of which we had to repair the bags. We could not find any water, and we seemed to be getting into very desolate places. A denselyscrubby and stony gully was before us, which we had to get through orup, and on reaching the top I was disappointed to find that, thoughthere was an open valley below, the hills all round seemed too muchdisconnected to form any good watering places. Descending, and leavingGibson and Jimmy with the horses, Mr. Tietkens and I rode in differentdirections in search of water. In about two hours we met, in the onlylikely spot either of us had seen; this was a little watercourse, andfollowing it up to the foot of the hills found a most welcome andunexpectedly large pond for such a place. Above it in the rocks were aline of little basins which contained water, with a rather pronouncedodour of stagnation about it; above them again the water was running, but there was a space between upon which no water was seen. Wereturned for the horses and camped as near as we could find aconvenient spot; this, however, was nearly a mile from the water. Thevalley ran north-east and south-west; it was very narrow, not tooopen, and there was but poor grass and herbage, the greater portion ofthe vegetation being spinifex. At eight o'clock at night athunderstorm came over us from the west, and sprinkled us with a fewdrops of rain; from west the storm travelled north-west, thence northto east and south, performing a perfect circle around; reaching itsoriginal starting point in about an hour, it disappeared, goingnortherly again. The rest of the night was beautifully calm and clear. Some of our horses required shoeing for the first time since we hadleft the telegraph line, now over 600 miles behind us. From the top ofa hill here the western horizon was bounded by low scrubby ridges, with an odd one standing higher than the rest; to one of these Idecided to go next. Some other hills lay a little more to the south, but there was nothing to choose between them; hills also ran alongeastward and north-eastwards. At eight o'clock again to-night athunderstorm came up from the westward; it sprinkled us with a fewdrops of rain, and then became dispersed to the south and south-east. 

The following day we passed in shoeing horses, mending pack-bags, restuffing pack-saddles, and general repairs. While out after thehorses Mr. Tietkens found another place with some water, about twomiles southerly on the opposite or west side of the valley. Finishingwhat work we had in hand, we remained here another day. I found thatwater boiled in this valley at 209 degrees, making the approximatealtitude of this country 1534 above sea level. This we always calledthe Shoeing Camp. We had remained there longer than at any otherencampment since we started; we arrived on the 14th and left on the18th October. 

Getting over a low fall in the hills opposite the camp, I turned on myproper course for another hill and travelled fifteen miles; the firstthree being through very fine country, well grassed, having a gooddeal of salt bush, being lightly timbered, and free from spinifex. Thescrub and triodia very soon made their appearance together, and wewere forced to camp in a miserable place, there being neither grassnor water for the unfortunate horses. 

The next morning we deviated from our course on seeing a bare-lookingrocky hill to the right of our line of march; we reached it in tenmiles. Searching about, I found several small holes or cups worn intothe solid rock; and as they mostly contained water, the horses wereunpacked, while a farther search was made. This hill was always aftercalled the Cups. I rode away to other hills westward, and found afresh-looking creek, which emptied into a larger one; but I could findnothing but brine and bitter water. For the first time on this journeyI found at this creek great quantities of that lovely flower, thedesert pea, Clianthus Dampierii. The creek ran south-westward. Isearched for hours for water without success, and returned to theparty at dusk. Mr. Tietkens had found some more water at another hill;and he and Gibson took some of the horses over to it, leaving Jimmyalone. 

Jimmy walked over to one cup we had reserved for our own use, to fillthe tin-billy for tea. Walking along with his eyes on the ground, andprobably thinking of nothing at all, he reached the cup, and, to hishorror and amazement, discovered some thirty or forty aboriginalsseated or standing round the spot. As he came close up to, but withoutseeing them, they all yelled at him in chorus, eliciting from him ayell in return; then, letting fall the tin things he was carrying, hefairly ran back to the camp, when he proceeded to get all the guns andrifles in readiness to shoot the whole lot. But Mr. Tietkens andGibson returning with the horses, having heard the yells, caused thenatives to decamp, and relieved poor Jimmy's mind of its load of careand fear. No doubt these Autocthones were dreadfully annoyed to findtheir little reservoirs discovered by such water-swallowing wretchesas they doubtless thought white men and horses to be; I could onlyconsole myself with the reflection, that in such a region as this wemust be prepared to lay down our lives at any moment in our attemptsto procure water, and we must take it when we find it at any price, aslife and water are synonymous terms. I dare say they know where to getmore, but I don't. Some natives were prowling about our encampment allthe first half of the night, and my little dog kept up an incessantbarking; but the rest was silence. 

We used every drop of water from every cup, and moved away for thebitter water I found yesterday. I thought to sweeten it by opening theplace with a shovel, and baling a lot of the stagnant water out; butit was irreclaimable, and the horses could not drink it. 

Mr. Tietkens returned after dark and reported he had found only onepoor place, that might yield sufficient for one drink for all thehorses; and we moved down three miles. It was then a mile up in alittle gully that ran into our creek. Here we had to dig out a largetank, but the water drained in so slowly that only eight horses couldbe watered by midday; at about three o'clock eight more were taken, and it was night before they were satisfied; and now the first eightcame up again for more, and all the poor wretches were standing in andaround the tank in the morning. The next day was spent in doling out afew quarts of water to each horse, while I spent the day in afruitless search for the fluid which evidently did not exist. Sixweeks or two months ago there must have been plenty of water here, butnow it was gone; and had I been here at that time, I have no doubt Imight have passed across to the Murchison; but now I must retreat tothe Shoeing Camp. When I got back at night, I found that not half thehorses had received even their miserable allowance of three quartseach, and the horse I had ridden far and fast all day could get none:this was poor little W. A. Of my first expedition. One little wretchedcob horse was upon the last verge of existence; he was evidently notwell, and had been falling away to a shadow for some time; he was forever hiding himself in the scrubs, and caused as much trouble to lookafter him as all the others put together. He was nearly dead; waterwas of no use to him, and his hide might be useful in repairing somepackbags, and we might save our stores for a time by eating him; so hewas despatched from this scene of woe, but not without woeful cruelty;for Jimmy volunteered to shoot him, and walked down the creek a fewyards to where the poor little creature stood. The possibility of anyone not putting a bullet into the creature's forehead at once, neveroccurred to me; but immediately after we heard the shot, Jimmy camesauntering up and said, "Oh! he wants another dose. " I jumped up andsaid, "Oh, you young--" No, I won't say what I told Jimmy. Then Gibsonoffered to do it, and with a very similar result. With suaviter inmodo, sed fortiter in re, I informed him that I did not consider him asufficiently crack shot to enable him to win a Wimbledon shield; andwhat the deuce did he--but there, I had to shoot the poor miserablecreature, who already had two rifle bullets in his carcass, and I amsure with his last breath he thanked me for that quick relief. Therewas not sufficient flesh on his bones to cure; but we got a quantityof what there was, and because we fried it we called it steak, andbecause we called it steak we said we enjoyed it, though it wasutterly tasteless. The hide was quite rotten and useless, being asthin and flimsy as brown paper. It was impossible now to push fartherout west, and a retreat to the Shoeing Camp had to be made, though wecould not reach it in a day. Thermometer while on this creek 99, and100 degrees in shade. This place was always called the Cob. 

We had great difficulty in driving the horses past the Cups, as thepoor creatures having got water there once, supposed it always existedthere. Some of these little indents held only a few pints of water, others a few quarts, and the largest only a few gallons. Early thesecond day we got back, but we had left so little water behind us, that we found it nearly all gone. Six days having elapsed makes awonderful difference in water that is already inclined to depart withsuch evaporation as is always going on in this region. We now went towhere Mr. Tietkens had found another place, and he and Gibson took theshovel to open it out, while Jimmy and I unpacked the horses. HereJimmy Andrews set fire to the spinifex close to all our packs andsaddles, and a strong hot wind blowing, soon placed all our belongingsin the most terrible jeopardy. The grass was dry and thick, and thefire raged around us in a terrific manner; guns and rifles, riding-and pack-saddles were surrounded by flames in a moment. We ran andhalloed and turned back, and frantically threw anything we could catchhold of on to the ground already burnt. Upsetting a couple of packs, we got the bags to dash out the flames, and it was only by the mostdesperate exertions we saved nearly everything. The instant a thingwas lifted, the grass under it seemed to catch fire spontaneously; Iwas on fire, Jimmy was on fire, my brains were in a fiery, whirlingblaze; and what with the heat, dust, smoke, ashes, and wind, I thoughtI must be suddenly translated to Pandemonium. Our appearance also wasmost satanic, for we were both as black as demons. 

There was no shade; we hadn't a drop of water; and without speaking aword, off we went up the gully to try and get a drink; there was onlyjust enough thick fluid for us, the horses standing disconsolatelyround. The day was hot, the thermometer marked 105 degrees. There wasnot sufficient water here for the horses, and I decided, as we had notactually dug at our old camp, to return there and do so. This we did, and obtained a sufficiency at last. We were enabled to keep the camphere for a few days, while Mr. Tietkens and I tried to find a morenortherly route to the west. Leaving Gibson and Jimmy behind, we tookthree horses and steered away for the north. Our route on this tripled us into the most miserable country, dry ridges and spinifex, sandhills and scrubs, which rolled along in undulations of severalmiles apart. We could get no water, and camped after a day's journeyof forty miles. 

Though the day had been very hot, the night became suddenly cool. Inthe morning of the 28th of October, at five miles we arrived at ascrubby sand ridge, and obtained a most displeasing view of thecountry further north. The surface seemed more depressed, but entirelyfilled up with dense scrubs, with another ridge similar to the one wewere on bounding the view; we reached it in about eight miles. Theview we then got was precisely similar to that behind us, except thatthe next undulation that bounded the horizon was fifteen to eighteenmiles away. We had now come fifty-one miles from the Shoeing Camp;there was no probability of getting water in such a region. To thewest the horizon was bounded by what appeared a perfectly flat andlevel line running northwards. This flat line to the west seemed notmore than twenty-five to thirty miles away; between us and it were afew low stony hills. Not liking the northern, I now decided to pushover to the western horizon, which looked so flat. I have said therewere some stony hills in that direction; we reached the first intwenty miles. The next was formed of nearly bare rock, where therewere some old native gunyahs. Searching about we found another ofthose extraordinary basins, holes, or cups washed out of the solidrock by ancient ocean's force, ages before an all-seeing Providenceplaced His dusky children upon this scene, or even before the watershad sufficiently subsided to permit either animal or man to existhere. From this singular cup we obtained a sufficient supply of thatfluid so terribly scarce in this region. We had to fill a canvasbucket with a pint pot to water our horses, and we outspanned for theremainder of the day at this exceedingly welcome spot. There were afew hundred acres of excellent grass land, and the horses didremarkably well during the night. The day had been very hot; thethermometer in the shade at this rock stood at 106 degrees. 

This proved a most abominable camp; it swarmed with ants, and theykept biting us so continually, that we were in a state of perpetualmotion nearly all the time we were there. A few heat-drops of rainfell. I was not sorry to leave the wretched place, which we left asdry as the surrounding void. We continued our west course oversandhills and through scrub and spinifex. The low ridges of which thewestern horizon was formed, and which had formerly looked perfectlyflat, was reached in five miles; no other view could be got. A mileoff was a slightly higher point, to which we went; then the horizon, both north and west of the same nature, ran on as far as could beseen, without any other object upon which to rest the eye. There werea few little gullies about, which we wasted an hour amongst in afruitless search for water. The Bitter Water Creek now lay south ofus; I was not at all satisfied at our retreat from it. I was anxiousto find out where it went, for though we had spent several days in itsneighbourhood, we had not travelled more than eight or ten miles downit; we might still get a bucket or two of water for our three horseswhere I had killed the little cob. We therefore turned south in hopesthat we might get some satisfaction out of that region at last. Wewere now, however, thirty-nine or forty miles from the water-place, and two more from the Cob. I was most anxious on account of the waterat the Shoeing Camp; it might have become quite exhausted by thistime, and where on earth would Gibson and Jimmy go? The thermometeragain to-day stood at 106 degrees in the shade. 

It was late at night when we reached the Cob tank, and all the waterthat had accumulated since we left was scarcely a bucketful. 

Though the sky was quite overcast, and rain threatened to fall nearlyall night, yet none whatever came. The three horses were huddled upround the perfectly empty tank, having probably stood there all night. I determined to try down the creek. One or two small branches enlargedthe channel; and in six or seven miles we saw an old native well, which we scratched out with our hands; but it was perfectly dry. Attwelve miles another creek joined from some hills easterly, andimmediately below the junction the bed was filled with green rushes. The shovel was at the Shoeing Camp, the bed was too stony to be duginto with our hands. Below this again another and larger creek joinedfrom the east, or rather our creek ran into it. There were some largeholes in the new bed, but all were dry. We now followed up this newchannel eastwards, as our horses were very bad, and this was in thedirection of the home camp. We searched everywhere, up in hills andgullies, and down into the creek again, but all without success, andwe had a waterless camp once more. The horses were now terribly bad, they have had only the third of a bucket of water since Wednesday, itbeing now Friday morning. We had still thirty miles to go to reach thecamp, and it was late when the poor unfortunate creatures draggedthemselves into it. Fortunately the day had been remarkably cool, almost cold, the thermometer only rose to 80 degrees in the shade. Thewater had held out well, and it still drained into the tank. 

On the following morning, the 1st November, the thermometer actuallydescended to 32 degrees, though of course there was neither frost norice, because there was nothing fluid or moist to freeze. I do notremember ever feeling such a sensation of intense cold. The day wasdelightfully cool; I was most anxious to find out if any water couldbe got at the junction of the two creeks just left. Mr. Tietkens andGibson took three fresh horses, and the shovel, on Monday, the 3rd ofNovember, and started out there again. 

Remaining at the camp was simple agony, the ants were so numerous andannoying; a strong wind was blowing from the eastwards, and the campwas in a continual cloud of sand and dust. 

The next day was again windy and dusty, but not quite so hot asyesterday. Jimmy and I and the two dogs were at the camp. He had ahabit of biting the dogs' noses, and it was only when they squealedthat I saw what he was doing; to-day Cocky was the victim. I said, "What the deuce do you want to be biting the dog's nose for, you mightseriously injure his nasal organ?" "Horgin, " said Jimmy, "do you callhis nose a horgin?" I said, "Yes, any part of the body of man oranimal is called an organ. " "Well, " he said, "I never knew that dogscarried horgins about with them before. " I said, "Well, they do, anddon't you go biting any of them again. " Jimmy of course, my reader cansee, was a queer young fellow. On one occasion further back, a goodmany crows were about, and they became the subject of discussion. Iremarked, "I've travelled about in the bush as much as most people, and I never yet saw a little crow that couldn't fly;" then Jimmy said, "Why, when we was at the Birthday, didn't I bring a little crow hin ahague hin?" I said, "What's hin a hague hin?" To which he replied, "Ididn't say "hin a hague hin, " I says "Hand her hague hin. " After this, whenever we went hunting for water, and found it, if there was asufficient quantity for us we always said, "Oh, there's enough to boila hague in anyhow. " Late in the evening of the next day, Jimmy and Iwere watching at the tank for pigeons, when the three horses Mr. Tietkens took away came up to drink; this of course informed me theyhad returned. The horses looked fearfully hollow, and I could see at aglance that they could not possibly have had any water since theyleft. Mr. Tietkens reported that no water was to be got anywhere, andthe country to the west appeared entirely waterless. 

I was, however, determined to make one more attempt. Packing twohorses with water, I intended to carry it out to the creek, which isforty miles from here. At that point I would water one horse, hang theremainder of the water in a tree, and follow the creek channel to seewhat became of it. I took Gibson and Jimmy, Mr. Tietkens remaining atthe camp. On arriving at the junction of the larger creek, we followeddown the channel and in five miles, to my great surprise, though thetraveller in these regions should be surprised at nothing, wecompletely ran the creek out, as it simply ended among triodia, sandhills, and scrubby mulga flats. I was greatly disappointed at thisturn of affairs, as I had thought from its size it would at least haveled me to some water, and to the discovery of some new geographicalfeatures. Except where we struck it, the country had all been burnt, and we had to return to that spot to get grass to camp at. Waterexisted only in the bags which we carried with us. I gave the horse Iintend riding to-morrow a couple of buckets of water. I suppose hewould have drank a dozen--the others got none. The three of usencamped together here. 

CHAPTER 2. 5. FROM 9TH NOVEMBER TO 23RD DECEMBER, 1873. 

Alone. Native signs. A stinking pit. Ninety miles from water. Elder's Creek. Hughes's Creek. The Colonel's range. Rampart-like range. Hills to the north-east. Jamieson's range. Return to Fort Mueller. Rain. Start for the Shoeing Camp once more. Lightning Rock. Nothing like leather. Pharaoh's inflictions. Photophobists. Hot weather. Fever and philosophy. Tietkens's tank. Gibson taken ill. Mysterious disappearance of water. Earthquake shock. Concussions and falling rocks. The glen. Cut an approach to the water. Another earthquake shock. A bough-house. Gardens. A journey northwards. Pine-clad hills. New line of ranges. Return to depot. 

The following day was Sunday, the 9th of November, but was not a dayof rest to any of us. Gibson and Jimmy started back with thepackhorses for the Shoeing Camp, while I intended going westward, westward, and alone! I gave my horse another drink, and fixed awater-bag, containing about eight gallons, in a leather envelope up ina tree; and started away like errant knight on sad adventure bound, though unattended by any esquire or shield-bearer. I rode away west, over open triodia sandhills, with occasional dots of scrub between, for twenty miles. The horizon to the west was bounded by open, undulating rises of no elevation, but whether of sand or stone I couldnot determine. At this distance from the creek the sandhills mainlyfell off, and the country was composed of ground thickly clothed withspinifex and covered all over with brown gravel. I gave my horse anhour's rest here, with the thermometer at 102 degrees in the shade. There was no grass, and not being possessed of organs that coulddigest triodia he simply rested. On starting again, the hills I hadleft now almost entirely disappeared, and looked flattened out to along low line. I travelled over many miles of burnt, stony, brown, gravelly undulations; at every four or five miles I obtained a view ofsimilar country beyond; at thirty-five miles from the creek thecountry all round me was exactly alike, but here, on passing a risethat seemed a little more solid than the others, I noticed in a kindof little valley some signs of recent native encampments; and thefeathers of birds strewn about--there were hawks', pigeons', andcockatoos' feathers. I rode towards them, and right under my horse'sfeet I saw a most singular hole in the ground. Dismounting, I found itwas another of those extraordinary cups from whence the natives obtainwater. This one was entirely filled up with boughs, and I had greatdifficulty in dragging them out, when I perceived that this orificewas of some depth and contained some water; but on reaching up a drop, with the greatest difficulty, in my hand, I found it was quite putrid;indeed, while taking out the boughs my nasal horgin, as Jimmy wouldcall it, gave me the same information. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE STINKING PIT. )

I found the hole was choked up with rotten leaves, dead animals, birds, and all imaginable sorts of filth. On poking a stick down intoit, seething bubbles aerated through the putrid mass, and yet thenatives had evidently been living upon this fluid for some time; someof the fires in their camp were yet alight. I had very greatdifficulty in reaching down to bale any of this fluid into my canvasbucket. My horse seemed anxious to drink, but one bucketful was all hecould manage. There was not more than five or six buckets of water inthis hole; it made me quite sick to get the bucketful for the horse. There were a few hundred acres of silver grass in the little valleynear, and as my horse began to feed with an apparent relish, Iremained here, though I anticipated at any moment seeing a number ofnatives make their appearance. I said to myself, "Come one, come all, this rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as I. " No enemies came, and I passed the night with my horse feeding quietly close to where Ilay. To this I attributed my safety. 

Long before sunrise I was away from this dismal place, not giving myhorse any more of the disgusting water. In a mile or two I came to thetop of one of those undulations which at various distances bound thehorizon. They are but swells a little higher than the rest of thecountry. How far this formation would extend was the question, andwhat other feature that lay beyond, at which water could be obtained, was a difficult problem to solve. From its appearance I was compelledto suppose that it would remain unaltered for a very considerabledistance. From this rise all I could see was another; this I reachedin nine miles. Nearly all the country hereabout had been burnt, butnot very recently. The ground was still covered with gravel, with hereand there small patches of scrub, the country in general being verygood for travelling. I felt sure it would be necessary to travel 150miles at least before a watered spot could be found. How ardently Iwished for a camel; for what is a horse where waters do not existexcept at great distances apart? I pushed on to the next risingground, ten miles, being nearly twenty from where I had camped. Theview from here was precisely similar to the former ones. My horse hadnot travelled well this morning, he seemed to possess but littlepluck. Although he was fat yesterday, he is literally poor now. Thishorse's name was Pratt; he was a poor weak creature, and diedsubsequently from thirst. I am afraid the putrid water has made himill, for I have had great difficulty in getting him to go. I turnedhim out here for an hour at eleven o'clock, when the thermometerindicated 102 degrees in the shade. The horse simply stood in theshade of a small belt of mulga, but he would not try to eat. To thesouth about a mile there was apparently a more solid rise, and Iwalked over to it, but there was no cup either to cheer or inebriate. I was now over fifty miles from my water-bag, which was hanging in atree at the mercy of the winds and waves, not to mention its removalby natives, and if I lost that I should probably lose my life as well. I was now ninety miles from the Shoeing Camp, and unless I wasprepared to go on for another hundred miles; ten, fifteen, twenty, orfifty would be of little or no use. It was as much as my horse woulddo to get back alive. From this point I returned. The animal went soslowly that it was dusk when I got back to the Cup, where I observed, by the removal of several boughs, that natives had been here in myabsence. They had put a lot of boughs back into the hole again. I hadno doubt they were close to me now, and felt sure they were watchingme and my movements with lynx-like glances from their dark metalliceyes. I looked upon my miserable wretch of a horse as a safeguard fromthem. He would not eat, but immediately hobbled off to the pit, and Iwas afraid he would jump in before I could stop him, he was so eagerfor drink. It was an exceedingly difficult operation to get water outof this abominable hole, as the bucket could not be dipped into it, nor could I reach the frightful fluid at all without hanging my headdown, with my legs stretched across the mouth of it, while I baled thefoetid mixture into the bucket with one of my boots, as I had no otherutensil. What with the position I was in and the horrible odour whichrose from the seething fluid, I was seized with violent retching. Thehorse gulped down the first half of the bucket with avidity, but afterthat he would only sip at it, and I was glad enough to find that theone bucketful I had baled out of the pit was sufficient. I don't thinkany consideration would have induced me to bale out another. 

Having had but little sleep, I rode away at three o'clock nextmorning. The horse looked wretched and went worse. It was past middaywhen I had gone twenty miles, when, entering sandhill country, I wasafraid he would knock up altogether. After an hour and a half's resthe seemed better; he walked away almost briskly, and we reached thewater-bag much earlier than I expected. Here we both had a good drink, although he would have emptied the bag three times over if he couldhave got it. The day had been hot. 

When I left this singular watercourse, where plenty of water existedin its upper portions, but was either too bitter or too salt for use, I named it Elder's Creek. The other that joins it I called Hughes'sCreek, and the range in which they exist the Colonel's Range. 

There was not much water left for the horse. He was standing close tothe bag for some hours before daylight. He drank it up and away wewent, having forty miles to go. I arrived very late. Everything waswell except the water supply, and that was gradually ceasing. In aweek there will be none. The day had been pleasant and cool. 

Several more days were spent here, re-digging and enlarging the oldtank and trying to find a new. Gibson and I went to some hills to thesouth, with a rampart-like face. The place swarmed with pigeons, butwe could find no water. We could hear the birds crooning and cooing inall directions as we rode, "like the moan of doves in immemorial elms, and the murmurings of innumerable bees. " This rampart-like ridge wasfestooned with cypress pines, and had there been water there, I shouldhave thought it a very pretty place. Every day was telling upon thewater at the camp. We had to return unsuccessful, having found none. The horses were loose, and rambled about in several mobs and alldirections, and at night we could not get them all together. The waterwas now so low that, growl as we may, go we must. It was five p. M. Onthe 17th of November when we left. The nearest water now to us that Iknew of was at Fort Mueller, but I decided to return to it by adifferent route from that we had arrived on, and as some hills laynorth-easterly, and some were pretty high, we went away in thatdirection. 

We travelled through the usual poor country, and crossed several drywater-channels. In one I thought to get a drink for the horses. Theparty having gone on, I overtook them and sent Gibson back with theshovel. We brought the horses back to the place, but he gave a verygloomy opinion of it. The supply was so poor that, after working andwatching the horses all night, they could only get a bucketful each bymorning, and I was much vexed at having wasted time and energy in sucha wretched spot, which we left in huge disgust, and continued on ourcourse. Very poor regions were traversed, every likely-looking spotwas searched for water. I had been steering for a big hill from theShoeing Camp; a dry creek issued from its slopes. Here the hillsceased in this northerly direction, only to the east and south-eastcould ranges be seen, and it is only in them that water can beexpected in this region. Fort Mueller was nearly fifty miles away, ona bearing of 30 degrees south of east. We now turned towards it. Adetached, jagged, and inviting-looking range lay a little to the eastof north-east; it appeared similar to the Fort Mueller hills. I calledit Jamieson's* Range, but did not visit it. Half the day was lost inuseless searching for water, and we encamped without any; thermometer104 degrees at ten a. M. At night we camped on an open piece ofspinifex country. We had thunder and lightning, and about sixheat-drops of rain fell. 

The next day we proceeded on our course for Fort Mueller; at twelvemiles we had a shower of rain, with thunder and lightning, that lasteda few seconds only. We were at a bare rock, and had the rain lastedwith the same force for only a minute, we could have given our horsesa drink upon the spot, but as it was we got none. The horses ran allabout licking the rock with their parched tongues. 

Late at night we reached our old encampment, where we had got water inthe sandy bed of the creek. It was now no longer here, and we had togo further up. I went on ahead to look for a spot, and returning, metthe horses in hobbles going up the creek, some right in the bed. Iintended to have dug a tank for them, but the others let them go toosoon. I consoled myself by thinking that they had only to go farenough, and they would get water on the surface. With the exception ofthe one bucket each, this was their fourth night without water. Thesky was now as black as pitch; it thundered and lightened, and therewas every appearance of a fall of rain, but only a light mist or heavydew fell for an hour or two; it was so light and the temperature sohot that we all lay without a rag on till morning. 

At earliest dawn Mr. Tietkens and I took the shovel and walked towhere we heard the horsebells. Twelve of the poor animals were lyingin the bed of the creek, with limbs stretched out as if dead, but wewere truly glad to find they were still alive, though some of themcould not get up. Some that were standing up were working away withtheir hobbled feet the best way they could, stamping out the sandtrying to dig out little tanks, and one old stager had actuallyreached the water in his tank, so we drove him away and dug out aproper place. We got all the horses watered by nine o'clock. It wasfour a. M. When we began to dig, and our exercise gave us an excellentappetite for our breakfast. Gibson built a small bough gunyah, underwhich we sat, with the thermometer at 102 degrees. 

In the afternoon the sky became overcast, and at six p. M. Rainactually began to fall heavily, but only for a quarter of an hour, though it continued to drip for two or three hours. During and afterthat we had heavy thunder and most vivid lightnings. The thermometerat nine fell to 48 degrees; in the sun to-day it had been 176 degrees, the difference being 128 degrees in a few hours, and we thought weshould be frozen stiff where we stood. A slight trickle of surfacewater came down the creek channel. The rain seemed to have come fromthe west, and I resolved to push out there again and see. This wasFriday; a day's rest was actually required by the horses, and thefollowing day being Sunday, we yet remained. 

MONDAY, 24TH NOVEMBER. 

We had thunder, lightnings, and sprinklings of rain again during lastnight. We made another departure for the Shoeing Camp and Elder'sCreek. At the bare rock previously mentioned, which was sixteen milesen route 30 degrees north of west, we found the rain had leftsufficient water for us, and we camped. The native well was full, andwater also lay upon the rock. The place now seemed exceedingly pretty, totally different from its original appearance, when we could get nowater at it. How wonderful is the difference the all-important elementcreates! While we were here another thunderstorm came up from the westand refilled all the basins, which the horses had considerablyreduced. I called this the Lightning Rock, as on both our visits thelightning played so vividly around us. Just as we were starting, morethunder and lightnings and five minutes' rain came. 

From here I steered to the one-bucket tank, and at one place actuallysaw water lying upon the ground, which was a most extraordinarycircumstance. I was in great hopes the country to the west had beenwell visited by the rains. The country to-day was all dense scrubs, inwhich we saw a Mus conditor's nest. When in these scrubs I always ridein advance with a horse's bell fixed on my stirrup, so that thosebehind, although they cannot see, may yet hear which way to come. Continually working this bell has almost deprived me of the faculty ofhearing; the constant passage of the horses through these direfulscrubs has worn out more canvas bags than ever entered into mycalculations. Every night after travelling, some, if not all the bags, are sure to be ripped, causing the frequent loss of flour and varioussmall articles that get jerked out. This has gone on to such an extentthat every ounce of twine has been used up; the only supply we can nowget is by unravelling some canvas. Ourselves and our clothes, as wellas our pack-bags, get continually torn also. Any one in futuretraversing these regions must be equipped entirely in leather; theremust be leather shirts and leather trousers, leather hats, leatherheads, and leather hearts, for nothing else can stand in a region suchas this. 

We continued on our course for the one-bucket place; but searchingsome others of better appearance, I was surprised to find that not adrop of rain had fallen, and I began to feel alarmed that the ShoeingCamp should also have been unvisited. One of the horses was unwell, and concealed himself in the scrubs; some time was lost in recoveringhim. As it was dark and too late to go on farther, we had to encampwithout water, nor was there any grass. 

The following day we arrived at the old camp, at which there had beensome little rain. The horses were choking, and rushed up the gullylike mad; we had to drive them into a little yard we had made whenhere previously, as a whole lot of them treading into the tank at oncemight ruin it for ever. The horse that hid himself yesterday knockedup to-day, and Gibson remained to bring him on; he came four hoursafter us, though we only left him three miles away. There was notsufficient water in the tank for all the horses; I was greatly grievedto find that so little could be got. 

The camp ground had now become simply a moving mass of ants; they werebad enough when we left, but now they were frightful; they swarmedover everything, and bit us to the verge of madness. It is eleven dayssince we left this place, and now having returned, it seems highlyprobable that I shall soon be compelled to retreat again. Last nightthe ants were unbearable to Mr. Tietkens and myself, but Gibson andJimmy do not appear to lose any sleep on their account. With the aidof a quart pot and a tin dish I managed to get some sort of a bath;but this is a luxury the traveller in these regions must in a greatmeasure learn to do without. My garments and person were so perfumedwith smashed ants, that I could almost believe I had been bathing in avinegar cask. It was useless to start away from here with all thehorses, without knowing how, or if any, rains had fallen out west. Itherefore despatched Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy to take a tour round toall our former places. At twenty-five miles was the almost bare rockyhill which I called par excellence the Cups, from the number of thoselittle stone indentures upon its surface, which I first saw on the19th of October, this being the 29th of November. If no water wasthere, I directed Mr. Tietkens then only to visit Elder's Creek andreturn; for if there was none at the Cups, there would be but littlelikelihood of any in other places. 

Gibson and I had a most miserable day at the camp. The ants weredreadful; the hot winds blew clouds of sandy dust all through and overthe place; the thermometer was at 102 degrees. We repaired severalpack-bags. A few mosquitoes for variety paid us persistent attentionsduring the early part of the night; but their stings and bites weredelightful pleasures compared to the agonies inflicted on us by themyriads of small black ants. Another hot wind and sand-dust day; stillsewing and repairing pack-bags to get them into something like orderand usefulness. 

At one p. M. Mr. Tietkens returned from the west, and reported that thewhole country in that direction had been entirely unvisited by rains, with the exception of the Cups, and there, out of several dozen rockyindents, barely sufficient water for their three horses could be got. Elder's Creek, the Cob tank, the Colonel's Range, Hughes's Creek, andall the ranges lying between here and there, the way they returned, were perfectly dry, not a drop of moisture having fallen in all thatregion. Will it evermore be thus? Jupiter impluvius? Thermometerto-day 106 degrees in shade. The water supply is so rapidly decreasingthat in two days it will be gone. This is certainly not a delightfulposition to hold, indeed it is one of the most horrible of imaginableencampments. The small water supply is distant about a mile from thecamp, and we have to carry it down in kegs on a horse, and often whenwe go for it, we find the horses have just emptied and dirtied thetank. We are eaten alive by flies, ants, and mosquitoes, and ourexistence here cannot be deemed a happy one. Whatever could haveobfuscated the brains of Moses, when he omitted to inflict Pharaohwith such exquisite torturers as ants, I cannot imagine. In a fieryregion like to this I am photophobist enough to think I could wallowat ease, in blissful repose, in darkness, amongst cool and wateryfrogs; but ants, oh ants, are frightful! Like Othello, I am perplexedin the extreme--rain threatens every day, I don't like to go and Ican't stay. Over some hills Mr. Tietkens and I found an old rockynative well, and worked for hours with shovel and levers, to shiftgreat boulders of rock, and on the 4th of December we finally left thedeceitful Shoeing Camp--never, I hope, to return. The new place was nobetter; it was two and a half miles away, in a wretched, scrubby, rocky, dry hole, and by moving some monstrous rocks, which left holeswhere they formerly rested, some water drained in, so that by nightthe horses were all satisfied. There was a hot, tropical, sultryfeeling in the atmosphere all day, though it was not actually so hotas most days lately; some terrific lightnings occurred here on thenight of the 5th of December, but we heard no thunder. On the 6th and7th Mr. Tietkens and I tried several places to the eastwards forwater, but without success. At three p. M. Of the 7th, we had thunderand lightning, but no rain; thermometer 106 degrees. On returning tocamp, we were told that the water was rapidly failing, it becomingfine by degrees and beautifully less. At night the heavens wereilluminated for hours by the most wonderful lightnings; it was, Isuppose, too distant to permit the sound of thunder to be heard. Onthe 8th we made sure that rain would fall, the night and morning werevery hot. We had clouds, thunder, lightning, thermometer 112 degreesand every mortal disagreeable thing we wanted; so how could we expectrain? but here, thanks to Moses, or Pharaoh, or Providence, or therocks, we were not troubled with ants. The next day we cleared out;the water was gone, so we went also. The thermometer was 110 degreesin the shade when we finally left these miserable hills. We steeredaway again for Fort Mueller, via the Lightning Rock, which wasforty-five miles away. We traversed a country nearly all scrub, passing some hills and searching channels and gullies as we went. Weonly got over twenty-one miles by night; I had been very unwell forthe last three or four days, and to-day I was almost too ill to sit onmy horse; I had fever, pains all over, and a splitting headache. Thecountry being all scrub, I was compelled as usual to ride with a bellon my stirrup. Jingle jangle all day long; what with heat, fever, andthe pain I was in, and the din of that infernal bell, I really thoughtit no sin to wish myself out of this world, and into a better, cooler, and less noisy one, where not even:--

 "To heavenly harps the angelic choir, Circling the throne of the eternal King;"

should:--

 "With hallowed lips and holy fire, Rejoice their hymns of praise to sing;"

which revived in my mind vague opinions with regard to our notions ofheaven. If only to sit for ever singing hymns before Jehovah's throneis to be the future occupation of our souls, it is doubtful if thethought should be so pleasing, as the opinions of Plato and otherphilosophers, and which Addison has rendered to us thus:--

 "Eternity, thou pleasing, dreadful thought, Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes and changes must we pass The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me, " etc. 

But I am trenching upon debatable ground, and have no desire to enteran argument upon the subject. It is doubtless better to believe thetenets taught us in our childhood, than to seek at mature age tounravel a mystery which it is self-evident the Great Creator neverintended that man in this state of existence should become acquaintedwith. However, I'll say no more on such a subject, it is quite foreignto the matter of my travels, and does not ease my fever in any way--infact it rather augments it. 

The next morning, the 10th, I was worse, and it was agony to have torise, let alone to ride. We reached the Lightning Rock at three p. M. , when the thermometer indicated 110 degrees. The water was all but gonefrom the native well, but a small quantity was obtained by digging. Iwas too ill to do anything. A number of native fig-trees were growingon this rock, and while Gibson was using the shovel, Mr. Tietkens wentto get some for me, as he thought they might do me good. It was mostfortunate that he went, for though he did not get any figs, he found afine rock water-hole which we had not seen before, and where all thehorses could drink their fill. I was never more delighted in my life. The thought of moving again to-morrow was killing--indeed I hadintended to remain, but this enabled us all to do so. It was as muchas I could do to move even the mile, to where we shifted our camp;thermometer 108 degrees. By the next day, 12th, the horses hadconsiderably reduced the water, and by to-morrow it will be gone. Thisbasin would be of some size were it cleaned out; we could not tellwhat depth it was, as it is now almost entirely filled with the debrisof ages. Its shape is elliptical, and is thirty feet long by fifteenbroad, its sides being even more abrupt than perpendicular--that is tosay, shelving inwards--and the horses could only water by jumping downat one place. There was about three feet of water, the rest being allsoil. To-day was much cooler. I called this Tietkens's Tank. On the14th, the water was gone, the tank dry, and all the horses away to theeast, and it was past three when they were brought back. Unfortunately, Gibson's little dog Toby followed him out to-day andnever returned. After we started I sent Gibson back to await the poorpup's return, but at night Gibson came without Toby; I told him hecould have any horses he liked to go back for him to-morrow, and Iwould have gone myself only I was still too ill. During the nightGibson was taken ill just as I had been; therefore poor Toby was neverrecovered. We have still one little dog of mine which I bought inAdelaide, of the same kind as Toby, that is to say, the smallblack-and-tan English terrier, though I regret to say he is decidedlynot, of the breed of that Billy indeed, who used to kill rats for abet; I forget how many one morning he ate, but you'll find it insporting books yet. It was very late when we reached our old boughgunyah camp; there was no water. I intended going up farther, but, being behind, Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy had began to unload, and some ofthe horses were hobbled out when I arrived; Gibson was still behind. For the second time I have been compelled to retreat to this range;shall I ever get away from it? When we left the rock, the thermometerindicated 110 degrees in the shade. 

Next morning I was a little better, but Gibson was very ill--indeed Ithought he was going to die, and would he had died quietly there. Mr. Tietkens and I walked up the creek to look for the horses. We foundand took about half of them to the surface water up in the narrowglen. When we arrived, there was plenty of water running merrily alongthe creek channel, and there were several nice ponds full, but when webrought the second lot to the place an hour and a half afterwards, thestream had ceased to flow, and the nice ponds just mentioned were allbut empty and dry. This completely staggered me to find the drainagecease so suddenly. The day was very hot, 110 degrees, when we returnedto camp. 

I was in a state of bewilderment at the thought of the water having soquickly disappeared, and I was wondering where I should have toretreat to next, as it appeared that in a day or two there wouldliterally be no water at all. I felt ill again from my morning's walk, and lay down in the 110 degrees of shade, afforded by the bough gunyahwhich Gibson had formerly made. 

I had scarcely settled myself on my rug when a most pronounced shockof earthquake occurred, the volcanic wave, which caused a sound likethunder, passing along from west to east right under us, shook theground and the gunyah so violently as to make me jump up as thoughnothing was the matter with me. As the wave passed on, we heard up inthe glen to the east of us great concussions, and the sounds ofsmashing and falling rocks hurled from their native eminences rumblingand crashing into the glen below. The atmosphere was very stillto-day, and the sky clear except to the deceitful west. 

Gibson is still so ill that we did not move the camp. I was in a greatstate of anxiety about the water supply, and Tietkens and I walkedfirst after the horses, and then took them up to the glen, where I wasenchanted to behold the stream again in full flow, and the sheets ofsurface water as large, and as fine as when we first saw themyesterday. I was puzzled at this singular circumstance, and concludedthat the earthquake had shaken the foundations of the hills, and thusforced the water up; but from whatsoever cause it proceeded, I wasexceedingly glad to see it. To-day was much cooler than yesterday. Atthree p. M. The same time of day, we had another shock of earthquakesimilar to that of yesterday, only that the volcanic wave passed alonga little northerly of the camp, and the sounds of breaking and fallingrocks came from over the hills to the north-east of us. 

Gibson was better on the 17th, and we moved the camp up into the glenwhere the surface water existed. We pitched our encampment upon asmall piece of rising ground, where there was a fine little pool ofwater in the creek bed, partly formed of rocks, over which the purlingstreamlet fell, forming a most agreeable little basin for a bath. 

The day was comparatively cool, 100 degrees. The glen here is almostentirely choked up with tea-trees, and we had to cut great quantitiesof wood away so as to approach the water easily. The tea-tree is theonly timber here for firewood; many trees are of some size, beingseven or eight inches through, but mostly very crooked and gnarled. The green wood appears to burn almost as well as the dead, and formsgood ash for baking dampers. Again to-day we had our usual shock ofearthquake and at the usual time. Next day at three p. M. , earthquake, quivering hills, broken and toppling rocks, with scared and agitatedrock wallabies. This seemed a very ticklish, if not extremelydangerous place for a depot. Rocks overhung and frowned down upon usin every direction; a very few of these let loose by an earthquakewould soon put a period to any further explorations on our part. Wepassed a great portion of to-day (18th) in erecting a fine largebough-house; they are so much cooler than tents. We also clearedseveral patches of rich brown soil, and made little Gardens (dePlantes), putting in all sorts of garden and other seeds. I have nowdiscovered that towards afternoon, when the heat is greatest the flowof water ceases in the creek daily; but at night, during the morninghours and up to about midday, the little stream flows murmuring onover the stones and through the sand as merrily as one can wish. FortMueller cannot be said to be a pretty spot, for it is so confined bythe frowning, battlemented, fortress-like walls of black and brokenhills, that there is scarcely room to turn round in it, and attacks bythe natives are much to be dreaded here. 

We have had to clear the ground round our fort of the stones and hugebunches of triodia which we found there. The slopes of the hills arealso thickly clothed with this dreadful grass. The horses feed somethree or four miles away on the fine open grassy country which, as Imentioned before, surrounds this range. The herbage being so excellenthere, the horses got so fresh, we had to build a yard with thetea-tree timber to run them in when we wanted to catch any. I stillhope rain will fall, and lodge at Elder's Creek, a hundred miles tothe west, so as to enable me to push out westward again. Nearly everyday the sky is overcast, and rain threatens to fall, especiallytowards the north, where a number of unconnected ridges or low rangeslie. Mr. Tietkens and I prepared to start northerly to-morrow, the20th, to inspect them. 

We got out in that direction about twenty miles, passed near a hill Inamed Mount Scott*, and found a small creek, but no water. The countryappeared to have been totally unvisited by rains. 

We carried some water in a keg for ourselves, but the horses got none. The country passed over to-day was mostly red sandhills, recentlyburnt, and on that account free from spinifex. We travelled aboutnorth, 40 degrees east. We next steered away for a dark-looking, bluff-ending hill, nearly north-north-east. Before arriving at it wesearched among a lot of pine-clad hills for water without effect, reaching the hill in twenty-two miles. Resting our horses, we ascendedthe hill; from it I discovered, with glasses, that to the north andround easterly and westerly a number of ranges lay at a veryconsiderable distance. The nearest, which lay north, was evidentlysixty or seventy miles off. These ranges appeared to be of somelength, but were not sufficiently raised above the ocean of scrubs, which occupied the intervening spaces, and rose into high and higherundulations, to allow me to form an opinion with regard to theiraltitude. Those east of north appeared higher and farther away, andwere bolder and more pointed in outline. None of them were seen withthe naked eye at first, but, when once seen with the field-glasses, the mind's eye would always represent them to us, floating and faintlywaving apparently skywards in their vague and distant mirage. Thisdiscovery instantly created a burning desire in both of us to be offand reach them; but there were one or two preliminary determinationsto be considered before starting. We are now nearly fifty miles fromFort Mueller, and the horses have been all one day, all one night, andhalf to-day without water. There might certainly be water at the newranges, but then again there might not, and although they were atleast sixty miles off, our horses might easily reach them. If, however, no water were found, they and perhaps we could never return. My reader must not confound a hundred miles' walk in this region withthe same distance in any other. The greatest walker that ever steppedwould find more than his match here. In the first place the feet sinkin the loose and sandy soil, in the second it is densely covered withthe hideous porcupine; to avoid the constant prickings from this thewalker is compelled to raise his feet to an unnatural height; andanother hideous vegetation, which I call sage-bush, obstructs evenmore, although it does not pain so much as the irritans. Again, theground being hot enough to burn the soles off one's boots, with thethermometer at something like 180 degrees in the sun, and the chokingfrom thirst at every movement of the body, is enough to make any onepause before he foolishly gets himself into such a predicament. Discretion in such a case is by far the better part of valour--forvalour wasted upon burning sands to no purpose is like love's labourlost. 

Close about in all directions, except north, were broken masses ofhills, and we decided to search among them for a new point ofdeparture. We re-saddled our horses, and searched those nearest, thatis to say easterly; but no water was found, nor any place that couldhold it for an hour after it fell from the sky. Then we wentnorth-west, to a bare-looking hill, and others with pines ornamentingtheir tops; but after travelling and searching all day, and the horsesdoing forty-six miles, we had to camp again without water. 

In the night the thermometer went down to 62 degrees. I was so coldthat I had to light a fire to lie down by. All this day was uselesslylost in various traverses and searchings without reward; and aftertravelling forty-two miles, the unfortunate horses had to go again forthe third night without water. We were, however, nearing the depotagain, and reached it, in sixteen miles, early the next morning. Thankful enough we were to have plenty of water to drink, a bath, andchange of clothes. 

CHAPTER 2. 6. FROM 23RD DECEMBER, 1873 TO 16TH JANUARY, 1874. 

Primitive laundry. Natives troublesome in our absence. The ives. Gibson's estimate of a straight heel. Christmas day, 1873. Attacked by natives. A wild caroo. Wild grapes from a sandal-wood tree. More earthquakes. The moon on the waters. Another journey northwards. Retreat to the depot. More rain at the depot. Jimmy's escape. A "canis familiaris". An innocent lamb. Sage-bush scrubs. Groves of oak-trees. Beautiful green flat. Crab-hole water. Bold and abrupt range. A glittering cascade. Invisibly bright water. The murmur in the shell. A shower bath. The Alice Falls. Ascend to the summit. A strange view. Gratified at our discoveries. Return to Fort Mueller. Digging with a tomahawk. Storing water. Wallaby for supper. Another attack. Gibson's gardens. Opossums destructive. Birds. Thoughts. Physical peculiarities of the region. Haunted. Depart. 

The way we wash our clothes is primitive--it can only be done at adepot. When we have sufficient water, we simply put them into it, andleave them until we want to change again, and then do the same withthose we take off; sometimes they sweeten for several days, oftenermuch less. It is an inexpensive method, which, however, I suppose Imust not claim as an invention. On the 23rd, when we arrived, Gibsoninformed us that the natives had been exceedingly troublesome, and hadthrown several spears and stones down from the rocks above, so that heand Jimmy had had to defend themselves with firearms. Our bough-housewas a great protection to them, and it appeared also that thesewretches had hunted all the horses away from their feeding ground, andthey had not been seen for three days, and not having come up to waterall the time we were away. At four p. M. We had our afternoonearthquake, and Gibson said the shock had occurred twice during ourabsence. The hostility of the natives was very annoying in more sensesthan one, as it would delay me in carrying out my desire to visit thenew and distant ranges north. Christmas had been slightly anticipatedby Gibson, who said he had made and cooked a Christmas pudding, andthat it was now ready for the table. We therefore had it for dinner, and did ample justice to Gibson's cookery. They had also shot severalrock-wallabies, which abound here. They are capital eating, especiallywhen fried; then they have a great resemblance to mutton. 

Gibson and Jimmy did not agree very well; Jimmy always had some taleof woe to pour into my ear whenever I returned from an outside trip. He was a very clean young fellow, but Gibson would never wash himself;and once when Jimmy made some remark about it, Gibson said to me, "Ican't think what you and Tietkens and Jimmy are always washingyourselves for. " "Why, " I said, "for health and cleanliness, to besure. " "Oh, " said he, "if I was to bathe like you do, it would give methe 'ives'. " I often showed the others how to mend their boots. Oneday, sitting in the shade of our bough-house, we were engaged incobbling. Gibson used to tread so unevenly on his boots that the heelswere turned nearly upwards, and he walked more on the uppers than onthe soles, therefore his required all the more repairing. Picking upone of my boots that I had just mended, Gibson looked very hard at it, and at last said, "How do you manage to wear your boots so straight?""Oh, " I said, "perhaps my legs are straight. " He rejoined, "Well, ain't mine straight too?" I said, "I don't know; I don't see themoften enough to tell, " alluding to his not bathing. "Well, " he said atlast, with a deep sigh, "By G--"--gum, I suppose he meant--"I'd give apound to be able to wear my boots as straight as you. No, I'm damnedif I wouldn't give five-and-twenty bob!" We laughed. We had some rollsof smoked beef, which caused the ants to come about the camp, and wehad to erect a little table with legs in the water, to lay these on. One roll had a slightly musty smell, and Gibson said to me, "Thisroll's rotten; shall I chuck it away?" "Chuck it away, " I said; "why, man, you must be cranky to talk such rubbish as throwing away food insuch a region as this!" "Why, " said he, "nobody won't eat it. " "No, "said I, "but somebody will eat it; I for one, and enjoy it too. "Whereupon he looked up at me, and said, "Oh, are you one of them aslikes yer meat 'igh?" I was annoyed at his stupendous stupidity, andsaid, "One of them! Who are you talking about? Who are THEY I'd liketo know? When we boil this meat, if we put a piece of charcoal in thepot, it will come out as sweet as a nut. " He merely replied, with adubious expression of face, "Oh!" but he ate his share of it asreadily as anybody else. The next day, Christmas eve, I sent Mr. Tietkens and Gibson on two of the horses we had lately brought back, to find the mob, which they brought home late, and said the tracks ofthe natives showed that they had driven the horses away for severalmiles, and they had found them near a small creek, along the southface of the range, where there was water. While they were away someducks visited the camp, but the tea-tree was too thick to allow us toshoot any of them. The day was cool, although there is a greatoppression in the atmosphere, and it is impossible to tell by one'sfeelings what might be the range of the thermometer, as I have oftenfelt it hotter on some days with the thermometer at 96 or 98 degreesthan when it ranged up to 108 or 110 degrees. The afternoons areexcessively relaxing, for although the mercury falls a little afterthree o'clock, still the morning's heat appears to remain until thesun has actually set. It is more than probable that the horses havingbeen hunted by the natives, and having found more water, will not comeback here of their own accord to water any more; so I shall keep onetied up at the camp, to fetch the others up with every morning. 

And now comes Thursday, 25th December, Christmas Day, 1873. Ah, howthe time flies! Years following years, steal something every day; atlast they steal us from ourselves away. What Horace says is, Eheufugaces, anni labuntur postume, postume:--Years glide away, and arelost to me, lost to me. 

While Jimmy Andrews was away after the others, upon the horse that wastied up all night, we were startled out of our propriety by the howlsand yells of a pack of fiends in human form and aboriginal appearance, who had clambered up the rocks just above our camp. I could only seesome ten or a dozen in the front, but scores more were dodging in andout among the rocks. The more prominent throng were led by an ancientindividual, who, having fitted a spear, was just in the act ofthrowing it down amongst us, when Gibson seized a rifle, and presentedhim with a conical Christmas box, which smote the rocks with suchforce, and in such near proximity to his hinder parts, that in a greatmeasure it checked his fiery ardour, and induced most of his moretimorous following to climb with most perturbed activity over therocks. The ancient more slowly followed, and then from behind thefastness of his rocky shield, he spoke spears and boomerangs to us, though he used none. He, however, poured out the vials of his wrathupon us, as he probably thought to some purpose. I was not linguistenough to be able to translate all he said; but I am sure my freeinterpretation of the gist of his remarks is correct, for heundoubtedly stigmatised us as a vile and useless set of lazy, crawling, white-faced wretches, who came sitting on hideous brutes ofhippogryphs, being too lazy to walk like black men, and took uponourselves the right to occupy any country or waters we might chance tofind; that we killed and ate any wallabies and other game we happenedto see, thereby depriving him and his friends of their natural, lawfulfood, and that our conduct had so incensed himself and his noblefriends, who were now in the shelter of the rocks near him, that hebegged us to take warning that it was the unanimous determination ofhimself and his noble friends to destroy such vermin as he consideredus, and our horses to be, and drive us from the face of the earth. 

It appeared to me, however, that his harangue required punctuation, soI showed him the rifle again, whereupon he incontinently indulged in afull stop. The natives then retired from those rocks, and commencedtheir attack by throwing spears through the tea-tree from the oppositeside of the creek. Here we had the back of our gunyah for a shield, and could poke the muzzles of our guns and rifles through theinterstices of the boughs. We were compelled to discharge our piecesat them to ensure our peace and safety. 

Our last discharge drove away the enemy, and soon after, Jimmy camewith all the horses. Gibson shot a wallaby, and we had fried chops forour Christmas dinner. We drew from the medical department a bottle ofrum to celebrate Christmas and victory. We had an excellent dinner(for explorers), although we had eaten our Christmas pudding two daysbefore. We perhaps had no occasion to envy any one their Christmasdinner, although perhaps we did. Thermometer 106 degrees in the shade. On this occasion Mr. Tietkens, who was almost a professional, sang ussome songs in a fine, deep, clear voice, and Gibson sang two or threelove songs, not altogether badly; then it was Jimmy's turn. He said hedidn't know no love songs, but he would give us Tommy or PaddyBrennan. This gentleman appears to have started in business as ahighwayman in the romantic mountains of Limerick. One verse that Jimmygave, and which pleased us most, because we couldn't quite understandit, was

 "It was in sweet Limerick (er) citty That he left his mother dear; And in the Limerick (er) mountains, He commenced his wild caroo-oo. "

Upon our inquiring what a caroo was, Jimmy said he didn't know. Nodoubt it was something very desperate, and we considered we wereperhaps upon a bit of a wild caroo ourselves. 

The flies had now become a most terrible plague, especially to thehorses, but most of all to the unfortunate that happens to be tied up. One horse, when he found he could not break away, threw himself downso often and so violently, and hurt himself so much, that I wascompelled to let him go, unless I had allowed him to kill himself, which he would certainly have done. 

A small grape-like fruit on a light green bush of the sandal-woodkind, having one soft stone, was got here. This fruit is black whenripe, and very good eating raw. We tried them cooked with sugar asjam, and though the others liked them very much, I could not touchthem. The afternoons were most oppressive, and we had our usualearthquakes; one on the 28th causing a more than usual falling ofrocks and smashing of tea-trees. 

For a few days I was taking a rest. I was grieved to find that thewater gradually ceased running earlier than formerly--that is to say, between eleven and twelve--the usual time had been between two andthree p. M. ; but by the morning every little basin was refilled. Thephases of the moon have evidently something to do with the watersupply. As the moon waxes, the power of the current wanes, and viceversa. On the 1st January, 1874, the moon was approaching its full, aquarter's change of the moon being the only time rain is likely tofall in this country; rain is threatening now every day. After a hotand sultry night, on the 2nd, at about two o'clock, a finethunder-shower from the east came over the range, and though it didnot last very long, it quite replenished the water supply in thecreek, and set it running again after it had left off work for theday. This shower has quite reanimated my hopes, and Mr. Tietkens and Iat once got three horses, and started off to reach the distant range, hoping now to find some water which would enable us to reach it. Forten miles from the camp the shower had extended; but beyond thatdistance no signs of it were visible anywhere. On the 4th we found aclay-pan, having a clay-hole at one end with some mud in it, and whichthe natives had but just left, but no water; then another, where, asthunderstorms were flying about in all directions, we dug out a claytank. While at work our clothes were damped with a sprinkling, but notenough rain fell to leave any on the ground. It seemed evident I mustpack out water from Fort Mueller, if ever I reached the new feature, as Nature evidently did not intend to assist, though it seemedmonstrous to have to do so, while the sky was so densely overcast andblack, and threatening thunderstorms coming up from all directions, and carrying away, right over our heads, thousands of cubic acres ofwater which must fall somewhere. I determined to wait a few days andsee the upshot of all these threatenings. To the east it wasundoubtedly raining, though to the west the sky was beautifully clear. We returned to the native clay-pan, hoping rain might have fallen, butit was drier than when we left it. The next morning the clear skyshowed that all the rains had departed. We deepened the nativeclay-hole, and then left for the depot, and found some water in alittle hole about ten miles from it. We rested the horses while we duga tank, and drained all the water into it; not having a pickaxe, wecould not get down deep enough. 

From here I intended to pack some water out north. While we weredigging, another thunderstorm came up, sprinkling us with a few dropsto show its contempt; it then split in halves, going respectivelynorth and south, apparently each dropping rain on the country theypassed over. 

On reaching the camp, we were told that two nice showers had fallen, the stream now showing no signs of languishing all the day long. Withhis usual intelligence, Jimmy Andrews had pulled a double-barrelledgun out from under a heap of packbags and other things by the barrel;of course, the hammer got caught and snapped down on the cartridge, firing the contents, but most fortunately missing his body by half aninch. Had it been otherwise, we should have found him buried, andGibson a lunatic and alone. No natives had appeared while we wereaway; as I remembered what the old gentleman told me about keepingaway, so I hoped he would do the same, on account of my partingremarks to him, which it seems he must have understood. 

In the middle of the night my little dog Cocky rushed furiously out ofthe tent, and began to bark at, and chase some animal round the camp;he eventually drove it right into the tent. In the obscured moonlightI supposed it was a native dog, but it was white, and looked exactlylike a large fat lamb. It was, at all events, an innocent lamb to comenear us, for as it sauntered away, I sent a revolver bullet after it, and it departed at much greater speed, squealing and howling until outof earshot. 

On the 7th Mr. Tietkens and I again departed for the north. That nightwe got wet through; there was plenty of water, but none that wouldremain. Being sure that the native clay-hole would now be full, wepassed it on our left, and at our outmost tank at nineteen miles weredelighted to find that both it and the clay-pan near it were full. Wecalled this the Emu Tank. We now went to the bare red hill with pines, previously mentioned, and found a trickling flow of water in a smallgully. I hope it will trickle till I return. We are now fifty milesfrom Fort Mueller, and the distant ranges seemed even farther awaythan that. 

Moving north, we went over a mass of open-rolling sandhills withtriodia, and that other abominable plant I call the sage-bush. Inappearance it is something like low tea-tree, but it differs entirelyfrom that family, inasmuch as it utterly abhors water. Although it isnot spiny like the triodia, it is almost as annoying, both to horseand man, as it grows too high for either to step over withoutstretching, and it is too strong to be easily moved aside; hence, horse-tracks in this region go zigzag. 

At thirty-five miles the open sandhills ceased, and scrubs came on. Itwas a cool and cloudy day. We passed through a few groves of thepretty desert oak-trees, which I have not seen for some time; a fewnative poplars and currajongs were also seen to-day. The horseswandered a long way back in the night. 

After travelling fifteen miles, we were now rapidly approaching therange, and we debouched upon a eucalyptus flat, which was covered witha beautiful carpet of verdure, and not having met with gumtrees forsome time, those we saw here, looked exceedingly fine, and the barkdazzling white. Here we found a clay crab-hole. These holes areso-called in parts of Australia, usually near the coasts, wherefreshwater crabs and crayfish bury themselves in the bottoms of placeswhere rain water often lodges; the holes these creatures make aretubes of two, three, or four feet deep, whose sides and bottom arecemented, and which hold water like a glass bottle; in these tubesthey remain till rain again lodges above, when for a time they arereleased. The crab-hole we found contained a little water, which ourhorses drank with great avidity. The range was now only six or sevenmiles off, and it stood up bold and abrupt, having steep and deepgorges here and there, in its southern front. It was timberless andwhitish-looking, and I had no doubt of finding water at it. I wasextremely annoyed to discover that my field glasses, an excellentpair, had been ripped off my saddle in the scrubs, and I should now bedisappointed in obtaining any distant view from the summit. 

 "They were lost to the view like the sweet morning's dew; They had been, and were not, was all that I knew. "

From the crab-hole, in seven miles we reached a gorge in the mountainside, travelling through scrub, over quartz, pebbly hills, andoccasional gum flats, all trending west, probably forming a creek inthat direction. 

In the gorge facing us we could discover a glittering little thread ofwater pouring down in a cascade from the top of the mountain into thegorge below, and upon reaching it we found, to our great delight, thatwe were upon the stony bank of a beautiful and pellucid little stream, whose almost invisibly bright water was so clear that not till ourhorses splashed it up with their feet could we quite realise thistreasure trove. It was but a poor place for the horses to graze, onaccount of the glen being so stony and confined, but there was nooccasion for them to ramble far to get plenty of grass, or a shadyplace either. We had some dinner and a most agreeable rest, --

 "'Neath the gum-trees' shade reclining, Where the dark green foliage twining, Screened us from the fervid shining Of the noontide sun. "

This spot was distant about ninety miles from Fort Mueller, in astraight line. The day was cool and breezy. After our dinner we walkedup to the foot of the cascade, along the margin of the transparentstream, which meandered amongst great boulders of rock; at the foot wefound the rocks rose almost perpendicularly from a charming littlebasin, into which the stream from above and the spray from belowmingled with a most melodious sound, so pleasant to the ear at anytime, but how much more to our drought-accustomed senses; continuallysounding like the murmur in the sea-shell, which, as the poets say, remembering its ancient and august abode, still murmurs as it murmuredthen. The water fell from a height of 150 feet; the descent was notquite unbroken. A delightful shower of spray fell for many yardsoutside the basin, inviting to a bath, which we exquisitely enjoyed;the basin was not more than six feet deep. I am quite delighted withthis new feature. There were gorges to the right of us, gorges to theleft of us, and there was a gorge all round us. I shall not stay nowto explore them, but will enter upon the task con amore when I bringthe whole party here. I called these the Alice Falls, after one of mysisters. It was impossible to ascend the mountain via the cascade, sowe had to flank it to reach the top. The view from thence, thoughinspiriting, was still most strange. Ranges upon ranges, some far andsome near, bounded the horizon at all points. There was a high, bold-looking, mount or range to the north-west forty or fifty milesoff. Up to a certain time we always called this the North-WestMountain, as it bore in that direction when first seen, until wediscovered its proper name, when I christened it Mount Destruction. Other ranges intervened much nearer. The particular portion of therange we were now on, was 1000 feet above the surrounding level. Ifound the boiling-point of water on this summit was 206 degrees, beingthe same as upon the summit of the Sentinel--that is to say, 3085 feetabove the sea. The country intervening between this and the otherranges in view, appeared open and good travelling ground. The rangesbeyond this have a brownish tinge, and are all entirely different fromthose at Fort Mueller. The rock formation here is a white and pinkishconglomerate granite. All the ranges visible are entirely timberless, and are all more or less rounded and corrugated, some having conicalsummits, and some looking like enormous eggs standing up on end; thisfor the first view. We descended, caught our horses, and departed forFort Mueller, much gratified at the discoveries already made at thisnew geographical feature. On the road back I recovered my glasses. Theday was most deliciously cool, there was a sweet perfume in the air, the morning was like one of those, so enjoyable in the spring, in thefar-off agricultural districts of the fertile portions of the southernand eastern Colonies. When we reached the red bare hill, fifty milesfrom home, we found the water had ceased to flow. 

At our Emu Tank all the outside surface water was gone, the tank onlyholding some. Our three horses greatly reduced its volume, and, fearing it would all evaporate before we could return, we cut aquantity of bushes and sticks to protect it from the sun. Remounting, we now made for the native clay-hole that we had avoided in going out. The outside water was now all but gone, but the hole still containedsome, though not sufficient for all the horses; we set to work andchopped out another hole with a tomahawk, and drained all the thickwater off the clay-pan into it. Then we cut boughs, bushes, and sticksto cover them, and proceeded homewards. On reaching the ten-mile orkangaroo tank, we found to our disgust that the water was nearly allgone, and our original tank not large enough, so we chopped outanother and drained all the surplus water into it. Then the boughs andbushes and sticks for a roof must be got, and by the time this wasfinished we were pretty well sick of tank making. Our hands wereblistered, our arms were stiff, and our whole bodies bathed in streamsof perspiration, though it was a comparatively cool day. We reachedhome very late on the 13th, having left the range on the 10th. I wasglad to hear that the natives had not troubled the camp in my absence. Another circumstance gratified us also, and that was, Gibson had shota large wallaby; we had not tasted meat since we left on the 7th. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ATTACK AT FORT MUELLER. )

To-day, 14th, we were getting all our packs and things ready for astart into the new and northern regions, when at eleven a. M. Mr. Tietkens gave the alarm that all the rocks overhead were lined withnatives, who began to utter the most direful yells so soon as theyfound themselves discovered. Their numbers were much larger thanbefore, and they were in communication with others in the tea-tree onthe opposite side of the creek, whose loud and inharmonious cries madeeven the heavens to echo with their sounds. They began operations bypoising their spears and waving us away. We waited for some littletime, watching their movements, with our rifles in our hands. A flightof spears came crashing through the flimsy sides of our house, theroof and west gable being the only parts thickly covered, and theycould see us jumping about inside to avoid their spears. Then a flightof spears came from the concealed enemy in the tea-tree. Mr. Tietkensand I rushed out, and fired right into the middle of the crowd. Fromthe rocks behind which they hid, they sent another flight of spears;how we escaped them I can't imagine. In the meantime Gibson and Jimmywere firing through the boughs, and I decided that it was for us totake the aggressive. We rushed up the rocks after the enemy, when theyseemed to drop like caterpillars, as instantaneously, they were alldown underneath us right at the camp. I was afraid they would set fireto it; we however finally drove them from our stronghold, inducingthem to decamp more or less the worse, and leave behind them aconsiderable quantity of military stores, in the shape of spears, wommerahs, waddies, wallabies' skins, owls, fly-flappers, red ochre, and numerous other minor valuables. These we brought in triumph to thecamp. It always distressed me to have to fire at these savages, and itwas only when our lives were in most imminent danger that we did so, for, as Iago says, though in the trade of war I have slain men, yet doI hold it very stuff o' the conscience to do no contrived murder. Ilack iniquity, sometimes, to do me service. We then went on with ourwork, though expecting our foes to return, but we were not againmolested, as they now probably thought we were vipers that would notstand too much crowding. 

Three horses were missing, therefore we could not leave that day, andwhen they were found on the next, it was too late to start. I tied oneof these wretches up all night, so as to get the mob early to-morrow. I was very uneasy about the water in our tanks, as every hour's delaywas of the greatest consequence. I had no very great regret at leavingthis depot, except that I had not been able to push out more than 150miles to the west from it. I now thought by going to the new northernrange, that my progress thence might be easier. We may perhaps havepaid the passing tribute of a sigh at leaving our little gardens, forthe seeds planted in most of them had grown remarkably well. Theplants that throve best here were Indian gram, maize, peas, spinach, pumpkins, beans, and cucumbers; melons also grew pretty well, withturnips and mustard. Only two wattles out of many dozens sown herecame up, and no eucalypts have appeared, although the seeds of manydifferent kinds were set. Gibson had been most indefatigable inkeeping the little gardens in order, and I believe was really grievedto leave them, but the inexorable mandates of circumstance and dutyforced us from our pleasant places, to wander into ampler realms andspaces, where no foot has left its traces. Departing, still we leftbehind us some lasting memorials of our visit to this peculiar place, which, though a city of refuge to us, was yet a dangerous and adreadful home. The water supply was now better than when we arrived. 

 "Our fount disappearing, From the rain-drop did borrow, To me comes great cheering, I leave it to-morrow. "

There were a number of opossums here which often damaged the gardenproduce in the night. There were various dull-plumaged small birds, with hawks, crows, and occasionally ducks, and one abominable croakingcreature at night used to annoy me exceedingly, and though I oftenwalked up the glen I could never discover what sort of bird it was. Itmight have been a raven; yes, a raven never flitting may be sitting, may be sitting, on those shattered rocks of wretchedness--on thatTroglodytes' shore, where in spirit I may wander, o'er those aridregions yonder; but where I wish to squander, time and energies nomore. Though a most romantic region, its toils and dangers legion, mymemory oft besieging, what time cannot restore; again I hear theshocks of the shattering of the rocks, see the wallabies in flocks, all trembling at the roar, of the volcanic reverberations, orseismatic detonations, which peculiar sensations I wish to know nomore. The horses were mustered at last, and at length we were about todepart, not certainly in the direction I should have wished to go, butstill to something new. 

Fort Mueller, of course, was named after my kind friend the Baron*, who was a personal contributor to the fund for this expedition. It wasreally the most astonishing place it has ever been my fortune tovisit. Occasionally one would hear the metallic sounding clang, ofsome falling rock, smashing into the glen below, toppled from itseminence by some subterranean tremour or earthquake shock, and thevibrations of the seismatic waves would precipitate the rocks intodifferent groups and shapes than they formerly possessed. I had manystrange, almost superstitious feelings with regard to this singularspot, for there was always a strange depression upon my spirits whilsthere, arising partly perhaps from the constant dread of attacks fromthe hostile natives, and partly from the physical peculiarities of theregion itself. 

 "On all there hung a shadow and a fear, A sense of mystery, the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, This region's haunted. "

On the 16th we departed, leaving to the native owners of the soil, this singular glen, where the water flowed only in the night, wherethe earthquake and the dry thunderstorm occurred every day, and turnedour backs for the last time upon

 "Their home by horror haunted, Their desert land enchanted, "

and plunged again into the northern wilderness. 

CHAPTER 2. 7. FROM 16TH JANUARY TO 19TH FEBRUARY, 1874. 

The Kangaroo Tanks. Horses stampede. Water by digging. Staggering horses. Deep rock-reservoir. Glen Cumming. Mount Russell. Glen Gerald. Glen Fielder. The Alice Falls. Separated hills. Splendid-looking creek. Excellent country. The Pass of the Abencerrages. Sladen Water. An alarm. Jimmy's anxiety for a date. Mount Barlee. Mount Buttfield. "Stagning" water. Ranges continue to the west. A notch. Dry rocky basins. Horses impounded. Desolation Glen. Wretched night. Terrible Billy. A thick clump of gums. A strong and rapid stream. The Stemodia viscosa. Head-first in a bog. Leuhman's Spring. Groener's and Tyndall's Springs. The Great Gorge. Fort McKellar. The Gorge of Tarns. Ants again. Swim in the tarn. View from summit of range. Altitude. Tatterdemalions. An explorer's accomplishments. Cool and shady caves. Large rocky tarn. The Circus. High red sandhills to the west. Ancient lake bed. Burrowing wallabies. The North-west Mountain. Jimmy and the grog bottle. The Rawlinson Range. Moth- and fly-catching plant. An inviting mountain. Inviting valley. Fruitless search for water. Ascend the mountain. Mount Robert. Dead and dying horses. Description of the mob. Mount Destruction. Reflections. Life for water. Hot winds. Retreat to Sladen Water. Wild ducks. An ornithological lecture. Shift the camp. Cockatoo parrots. Clouds of pigeons. Dragged by Diaway. Attacked by the natives. 

It was late on the 16th of January when we left Fort Mueller. Wereached our first or Kangaroo Tanks in eleven miles, so called as wesaw several kangaroos there on our first visit; but only havingrevolvers, we could not get near enough to shoot any of them. Thewater had remained in them quite as well as I could expect, but we didnot use it that night. The horses were evidently inclined to rambleback, so we short-hobbled them; but as soon as it became dusk, theyall went off at a gallop. Mr. Tietkens and I went after them, but thewretches would not allow us to get up with them. The moment they heardus breaking any sticks in the scrubs behind them, off they startedagain; we had to go five or six miles before we could get hold of anyof them, and it being cloudy and dark, we hardly knew which way todrive them back; at length we saw the reflection of a fire, and itproved we were taking them right; it was midnight when we got back. Wetied one up and waited for morning, when we found they were all goneagain, but having one to ride we thought to get them pretty soon. Itnow appeared that in the scrubs and darkness last night we had missedthree. Now we had to use our tank water, the three missing horses notbeing found by night. The missing horses were found the next day, the18th, and we continued our journey from these now empty tanks attwelve o'clock, and reached the native clay-pan tanks by night. Thesecond one we had dug, though well shaded, was quite dry, and thenative hole contained only sufficient for about half the horses. Somedrank it all up, the rest going without, but we consoled them with theassurance that they should have some when we reached the top or EmuTank. We wanted to fill up our own water-bags, as our supply wasexhausted. On reaching it, however, to our disgust we found itperfectly dry, and as we couldn't get any water, the only thing to dowas to keep pushing on, as far and as fast as we could, towards theAlice Falls. We got some water by digging in a small Grevillea(beef-wood-tree), water-channel, about three miles this side of it. The horses were exceedingly thirsty, and some of them when they gotwater were afflicted with staggers. The grass was beautifully green. The last few days have been comparatively cool. As the horses had twoheavy days' stages, I did not move the camp, but Mr. Tietkens and Irode off to the main range to explore the gorges we had formerly seento the east. The country at the foot of the range was very stony, rough, and scrubby. We reached the mouth of the most easterly gorge, tied up our horses, and walked up. We very soon came upon a fine deeplong rock-reservoir with water running into and out of it. I could nottouch the bottom with over twenty feet of string. The rocky sides ofthis gorge rose almost perpendicularly above us, and the farther wewent up, the more water we saw, until our passage was completelystopped by the abruptness of the walls and the depth of the water attheir feet; I called this Glen Cumming*. The particular part or hillof the range on which this reservoir exists I named Mount Russell*;this was the most eastern mount of the range. We then turned westerlytowards the Alice Falls, and in a mile and a half we came to anothergorge, where there was a cascade falling into a very clear round basinover twenty feet deep, washed out of solid white stone. There werenumerous other basins, above and below the large one. I called thisplace Glen Gerald. Proceeding on our way, we came to another cascadeand basin; the fall of water was from a lesser height. I called thisGlen Fielder. From here we went to the Alice Falls, rested the horses, and had a swim and delicious shower bath. A warm wind from thesouth-east prevailed all day. 

I wished to find a road through or over this range, but will evidentlyhave to go farther to the west, where at seven or eight miles thereare apparently two separate hummocks. We returned to camp quitecharmed with our day's ramble, although the country was very rough andstony. The vegetation about here is in no way different from any whichexists between this range and Mount Olga. Making a move now in thedirection of the two apparently separated hills, we passed throughsome scrub of course, and then came to grassy gum-tree or eucalyptusflats, with water-channels. At twelve miles we came fairly on to thebanks of a splendid-looking creek, with several sheets of water; itsbed was broad, with many channels, the intermediate spaces beingthickly set with long coarse green rushes. The flow of the water wasto the north, and the creek evidently went through a glen or pass; thetimber grew thick and vigorous; the water had a slightly brackishtaste. All through the pass we saw several small sheets of water. Onefine hole had great quantities of ducks on it, but Gibson, who startedto shoot some of them, couldn't get his gun to go off, but the ducks'firearms acted much better, for they went off extremely well. 

We encamped at a place near a recent native camp, where the grass wasvery good. This was evidently a permanently watered pass, with someexcellent country round it to the south. 

The range appeared to continue to the west, and this seemed the onlypass through it. I called this the Pass of the Abencerrages--that isto say, the Children of the Saddle. The creek and its waters I namedSladen Water, after the late Sir Charles Sladen*. This evening, havinghad a comfortable bath, I was getting my blankets ready for bed whenJimmy Andrews came rushing over to me. I immediately grabbed a rifle, as I thought it was an attack by the natives. He merely begged to knowwhat day of the month it was, and requested me to mention the fact, with day and date in my journal, that--yes, Gibson was actually seenin the act of bathing. I thought Jimmy was joking, as this I could notbelieve without the sensible and true avouch of mine own eyes, butthere was the naked form, the splashing water, and the swimming dog. It was a circumstance well worth recording, for I am sure it is thefirst full bodied ablution he has indulged in since leaving MountOlga, eighteen weeks to a day, and I am not at all sure that he bathedthere. It was therefore with great pleasure that I recorded theunusual circumstance. When Jimmy left me grinning, and I had time toget over my surprise, and give mature consideration to this unusualmatter, it did seem to me better, having the welfare of the whole ofthe members of my expedition at heart--I say, it did appear better, onthe principle of the greatest good for the greatest number, thatGibson should endure the agony of an all-over wash, than that weshould be attacked and perhaps killed by the natives. 

The flies on this range are evidently very numerous, for theirattention to our eyes is not only persistent but very annoying. 

This morning I made the latitude of this pass to be 24 degrees 58', and longitude 127 degrees 55'. We followed this creek; travellingalong its banks, we found native huts very numerous, and for a fewmiles some sheets of water were seen; the bed then became too sandy;its course was about north-west. In eight or nine miles we found thatsandhill and casuarina country existed, and swallowed up theunfortunate creek. The main line of ranges continued westerly, and, together with another range in front of us to the north, formed a kindof crescent. No pass appeared to exist between them. I now went to theeastern end of a range that lay to the north of us, and passing over alow ridge had a good view of the surrounding country. Ranges appearedin almost all directions; the principal ones lay to the west andnorth-west. One conspicuous abrupt-faced mount bore north 17 degreeseast; this I named Mount Barlee. There were others to theeast-north-east, and the long sweep of the range from which we hadcome to the south. One hill near us looked inviting, and we found adeep rocky gorge with water in its neighbourhood. In fact there wereseveral fine rocky basins ten and twelve feet deep, though they werevery rough places to get horses to. I called the high hill MountButtfield. It appeared as if no rain had fallen here lately; the waterin all these holes was greenish and stagnant, or stagning as Gibsonand Jimmy called it. The grass, such as there was, was old, white, anddry. The country down below, north-wards, consisted of open, sandy, level, triodia ground, dotted with a few clumps of the desert oak, giving a most pleasing appearance to the eye, but its reality isstartlingly different, keeping, as it were, the word of promise to theeye, but breaking it to the hope. While the horses were beingcollected this morning I ascended Mount Buttfield, and found thatranges continued to the west for a considerable distance. I nowdecided to make for a notch or fall in the main range we had left, which now bore nearly west, as there appeared to be a creek issuingfrom the hills there. Travelling over casuarina sandhills and somelevel triodia ground, we found there was a creek with eucalypts on it, but it was quite evident that none of the late showers had fallenthere. Hardly any grass was to be found, the ground being open andstony, with thorny vegetation. 

In the main channel we could only find deep, rocky, dry basins, but upa small branch gorge I found three small basins with a very limitedsupply of water, not sufficient for my horses both now and in themorning, so we thought it better that they should do without itto-night. Above the camp there was a kind of pound, so we put all thehorses up there, as it was useless to let them ramble all over thecountry in the night. The ants were excessively troublesome here. Icould not find sufficient shade for the thermometer to-day, but keptit as cool as I could for fear of its bursting. 

This glen, or rather the vegetation which had existed in it, had beenrecently burned by the natives, and it had in consequence a still moregloomy and dreary appearance. I called it by its proper name, that isto say, Desolation Glen. 

I could get no rest last night on account of the ants, the wretchesalmost ate me alive, and the horses tried so often to pass by the campthat I was delighted at the reappearance of the morn. Mr. Tietkensalso had to shift his camp, and drove the horses back, but ants as bigas elephants, or an earthquake that would destroy the world, wouldnever wake Gibson and Jimmy. It was difficult to get the horses to theplace where the water was, and we could only manage three at a time. There was fortunately just enough water, though none to spare. One oldfool of a horse must needs jump into an empty rock basin; it was deepand funnel shaped, so that he could not stand when he got there, so hefell, and had knocked himself about terribly before we could get himout. Indeed, I never thought he could come out whole, and I waspreparing to get him out in pieces when he made one last super-equineexertion, and fell up and out at the same time. 

The delay in watering the horses, and extracting Terrible Billy fromthe basin, made it twelve o'clock before we could turn our backs uponthis hideous place, hoping to find no more like it. We travelled alongthe stony slope of the range nearly west, and in less than two mileswe crossed a small creek-channel with a thick clump of gum-trees rightunder the range. The tops of a second clump were also visible abouthalf a mile off. Mr. Tietkens went to search down Desolation Creek. Idirected Gibson to go on with the horses to the foot of a hill which Ipointed out to him, and to remain there until I overtook him. Up thecreek close to the clump of timber the whole glen was choked with arank vegetation, beneath which the water ran in a strong and rapidstream that issued to the upper air from the bottom of the range. Intrying to cross this channel, my horse became entangled in the densevegetation, whose roots, planted in rich and oozy soil, induced thetops of this remarkable plant to grow ten, twelve, and fifteen feethigh. It had a nasty gummy, sticky feel when touched, and emitted astrong, coarse odour of peppermint. The botanical name of this plantis Stemodia viscosa. This vegetation was not substantial enough tosustain my horse, and he plunged so violently that he precipitated mehead-first into the oozy, black, boggy mass, and it appeared as thoughhe must be swallowed up alive. I had in such a place great difficultyin getting my saddle, rifle, revolver, and other gear off the animal'sback. I gave up all hopes of recovering the horse, for he had ceasedstruggling, and was settling down bodily in the morass. 

I left him and ran shouting after Gibson and Jimmy, but they were toofar away; Mr. Tietkens, however, on his way after them, heard me androde up. His astonishment was great indeed when I showed him thehorse, now deeply imbedded in the bog. The vegetation could hold us upabove the running stream, and at last, but how I never could make out, by dint of flogging, helping to lift, and yelling at him, thecreature, when he found we were trying to help him, interested himselfonce more in the matter, and at length we got him out of thisbottomless pit. He was white when he went in, but coal black when hecame out. There were no rock-holes at the head of this spring; thewater drains from underneath the mountains, and is permanent beyond adoubt. I called this Luehman's Springs. The water appears on thesurface for a little over a mile. Having re-saddled my dirty blackbeast, we went to the next gorge, where the clump of eucalyptus wasvery thick and fine-looking; the water here springing from the hillsas at the last, we were mighty skeery how we approached this. A finestream of water ran here. 

After this we found five other glens with running springs, in about asmany miles; they were named respectively, but afterwards, Groener'sand Tyndall's Springs, the Great Gorge, Fort McKellar*, where Isubsequently had a depot, and the Gorge of Tarns. Fort McKellar is themost western water suitable for a depot, and is the most agreeableencampment. Many of these glens had fine rock-holes as well as runningsprings; most of the channels were full of bulrushes and the peculiarStemodia. This plant is of a dark-green colour, of a pulpy nature, with a thick leaf, and bears a minute violet-coloured flower. Itseemed very singular that all these waters should exist close to theplace I called Desolation Glen; it appeared as if it must be the onlyspot on the range that was destitute of water. After some time spentin exploring these charming places, it was time to look about for thehorses, and though Gibson had crossed all these channels within sightof their waters, he never stopped for a moment to see if the horseswould drink. We expected to overtake him in a mile or two, as the hillpointed out to him was now close at hand. The country was so solid andstony that we could not follow the tracks of the horses for anydistance, they could only be picked up here and there, but the countrybeing open, though rising and falling into gullies and ridges, wethought to see them at any moment, so that, as we had found so manywaters and the day was Sunday, I wanted to camp early and rest. Gibson, however, kept driving on, driving on, going in no particulardirection--north, north-north-west, north-west, south-west, northagain; and having got such a start of us, it was just night when weovertook him, still driving on up a dry creek, going due south, slapinto the range amongst rocks and stones, etc. I was greatly annoyed, for, having found six splendid permanent waters, we had to campwithout a drop of water either for ourselves or our horses, theanimals being driven about the whole day when they might have had afine day's rest, with green grass and splendid water. It is impossibleto drill sense into some people's heads; but there--perhaps I had nosense in coming into such a region myself. 

A fierce, warm south wind blew all night; the ants were dreadful, andwould not allow me to sleep for a minute, though the others did notseem to feel them. The range still continued to the west, and othercreeks were visible in that direction, but I decided to return to thelast water I had seen--that is to say, at the Gorge of Tarns. Notbeing able to sleep, I went after the horses long before daylight, andfound they had wandered a terrible distance, although short-hobbled. Isoon found out the cause, for one horse had been loose all night withhis pack on, and had consequently led the others a fine jaunt. Whenall were found and packed, we returned to the gorge which, inconsequence of its having so many splendid basins of deep water, Inamed as before said. On arriving, we fixed our camp close up to thelarge basins, but the horses could water a mile below, where sometea-tree grew, and where the water reappeared upon the surface aftersinking beneath it. There was some good feed here for the horses, butit was over a very limited area. 

We had a swim in the fine rocky tarn, and we were delighted to bejoined by Gibson in our ablutions. Could the bottom of this pool becleared of the loose blocks of stone, gravel, and sand, it woulddoubtless be found of very great depth; but the rains and floods ofages have nearly filled it with stones, loosened from the upper rocks, and it is only in the crevices between the rocks at the bottom thatone can discover the depth to be greater than seven feet. Shade hereis very scarce when the sun is overhead, except up around the largebasin, where there are caves and overhanging rocky ledges, under whichwe sit, and over which the splashing waters from their sources abovefall into the tarn below. 

The view from the top of the range was very similar to that from MountButtfield, only that now to the south we could see an horizon ofscrub. To the north, the natives were burning the spinifex, and thisproduced such a haze that no definite view could be obtained. Otherportions of the range quite prevented a western view. The altitude ofthis summit was a little over 3000 feet above sea level. 

Not being able to glean any farther information about the surroundingcountry, we (con)descended to work in the shady caves, swimming andworking alternately during the day, for we had plenty of theever-recurring tasks to do, namely, the repairing of pack-bags andclothes, and the unravelling of canvas for twine. 

The first night we passed here was close and hot. We had so much ofsewing to do that we set to work with a will; our clothes also requireas much attention as the pack-bags and pack-saddles. No one couldconceive the amount of tearing and patching that is for ever going on;could either a friend or stranger see us in our present garb, ourappearance would scarcely be thought even picturesque; for a morepatched and ragged set of tatterdemalions it would be difficult tofind upon the face of the earth. We are not, indeed, actuallydestitute of clothes, but, saving our best for future emergencies, wekeep continually patching our worst garments, hence our peculiarappearance, as our hats, shirts, and trousers, are here and there, soquilted with bits of old cloth, canvas, calico, basil, greenhide, andold blanket, that the original garment is scarcely anywhere visible. In the matter of boots the traveller must be able to shoe himself aswell as his horses in these wild regions of the west. The explorerindeed should be possessed of a good few accomplishments--amongstthese I may enumerate that he should be able to make a pie, shoehimself or his horse, jerk a doggerel verse or two, not for himself, but simply for the benefit or annoyance of others, and not necessarilyfor publication, nor as a guarantee of good faith; he must be able totake, and make, an observation now and again, mend a watch, kill orcure a horse as the times may require, make a pack-saddle, andunderstand something of astronomy, surveying, geography, geology, andmineralogy, et hoc, simile huic. 

With regard to shoeing oneself, I will give my reader some idea ofwhat strength is required for boots in this country. I repaired mineat Fort Mueller with a double sole of thick leather, with sixtyhorseshoe nails to each boot, all beautifully clenched within, givingthem a soft and Turkish carpet-like feeling to the feet inside; then, with an elegant corona of nail-heads round the heel and plates at thetoes, they are perfect dreadnoughts, and with such understandings Ican tread upon a mountain with something like firmness, but they werenearly the death of me afterwards for all that. 

In the shade of our caves here the thermometer does not rise veryhigh, but in the external glen, where we sleep in the open air, it isno cooler. 

On the 29th we left this cool and shady spot--cool and shady, however, only amongst the caves--and continued our march still westward, alongthe slopes of the range. 

In eight miles we crossed ten creeks issuing from glens or gorges inthe range; all that I inspected had rocky basins, with more or lesswater in them. Other creeks were seen ahead, but no view could be gotof any horizon to the west; only the northern and eastern ones beingopen to our view. The country surrounding the range to the northappeared to consist of open red sandhills, with casuarina in thehollows between. At sixteen miles I found a large rocky tarn in acreek-gorge; but little or no grass for the horses--indeed, the wholecountry at the foot of this range is very bare of that commodity, except at Sladen Water, where it is excellent. 

Since we left Sladen Water the horses have not done well, and theslopes of this range being so rough and stony, many of them displaysigns of sorefootedness. I cannot expect the range to continue fartherthan another day's stage; and though I cannot see its end, yet I feel'tis near. 

Many delays by visiting places caused it to be very late when we satdown amongst stones and triodia to devour our frugal supper. Asolitary eagle was the monarch of this scene; it was perched upon thehighest peak of a bare ridge, and formed a feathery sky-line whenlooking up the gorge--always there sat the solemn, solitary, andsilent bird, like the Lorelei on her rock-- above--beautifully, there, as though he had a mission to watch the course of passing events, andto record them in the books of time and fate. There was a larger andsemicircular basin still farther up the gorge; this I called theCircus, but this creek and our rock-hole ever after went by the nameof the Circus. In a few miles the next day I could see the terminationof the range. In nine miles we crossed three creeks, then ascended ahill north of us, and obtained at last a western view. It consistedentirely of high, red sandhills with casuarinas and low mallee, whichformed the horizon at about ten miles. The long range that had broughtus so far to the west was at an end; it had fallen off slightly inaltitude towards its western extremity, and a deep bed of rollingsandhill country, covered with desert vegetation, surrounded it on allsides. Nearer to us, north-westerly, and stretching nearly to west, lay the dry, irregular, and broken expanse of an ancient lake bed. Onriding over to it we found it very undefined, as patches of sandhillsoccurred amongst low ridges of limestone, with bushes and a few lowtrees all over the expanse. There were patches of dry, soda-likeparticles, and the soil generally was a loose dust coloured earth. Samphire bushes also grew in patches upon it, and some patches of ourarch-enemy, triodia. Great numbers of wallaby, a different kind fromthe rock, were seen amongst the limestone rises; they had completelyhoneycombed all we inspected. Water there was none, and if Noah'sdeluge visited this place it could be conveniently stowed away, andput out of sight in a quarter of an hour. 

Returning to the horses, we turned southerly to the most westerlycreek that issues from the range. I found some water up at the head ofit in rock-holes; but it was so far up easterly, that we could nothave been more than five or six miles across the hills from our lastnight's encampment at the Circus. There was only a poor supply ofwater in two small holes, which could not last longer than three daysat the most. The thermometer ranged up to 104 degrees to-day. Some ofthe horses are now terribly footsore. I would shoe them, only that weare likely to be in the sandhills again immediately. I did not exactlyknow which way to go. Mr. Tietkens and I ascended the highest hill inthis part of the range. I had yesterday seen something like the top ofa ridge south-westerly; I now found it was part of a low distantrange, and not of a very promising nature. There was a conspicuousmountain, which now bore north-east about fifty miles away, and Ifancied I saw the refracted tops of other ranges floating in themirage. I thought, from the mountain just mentioned, I might discoverothers, which might lead me away to the west. Up to the present timewe had always called this, in consequence of its bearing when firstseen, the North-west Mountain. I thought a change of country might bemet with sooner in a north or north-westerly direction than in a westor south-westerly one, as the sources of the Murchison River must bemet somewhere in the former direction. I tried the boiling-point ofwater here, and found that the ebullition occurred at two degreeshigher than at the Alice Falls, which indicated a fall of nearly 1000feet, the western end of the range being much lower than the middle oreastern. We had still a couple of bottles of spirit left in themedical department, and as nobody seemed inclined to get ill, weopened one here. Jimmy Andrews having been a sailor boy, I am afraidhad learnt bad habits, as he was very fond of grog. When we opened thelast bottle at Christmas, and Jimmy had had a taste, he said, "What'sthe use of only a nobbler or two? I wouldn't give a d--, " dump, Isuppose he meant, "for grog unless I could get drunk. " I said, "Well, now, my impression is that it would require very little grog to dothat. " He said, "Why, I'd drink six bottles off and never know it. " Isaid, "Well, the next bottle we open you shall have as much out of itas you can take in one drink, even if you drink the whole bottle. " Hereplied, "Oh, all right, I'll leave a nobbler for you, you know, Mr. Giles; and I'd like to give Tietkens a taste; but that [adjective]Gibson, I'll swear he won't git none. " So we opened the bottle, and Isaid, "Now then, Jimmy, here's your grog, let's see how much you candrink. " "Oh!" said he, " I ain't going to drink it all at once. " "Allright, " I said, "if you don't, we shall--so now is your chance. " Jimmypoured out a good stiff glass and persisted in swallowing it raw. Infive minutes he was fast asleep, and that was all he got out of thebottle; he never woke till morning, and then--well, the bottle wasempty then. 

My readers will form a better idea of this peculiar and distantmountain range when I tell them that it is more than sixty miles long, averaging five or six miles through. It is of a bold and rounded form;there is nothing pointed or jagged in its appearance anywhere, exceptwhere the eagle sat upon the rock at the Circus; its formation ismostly a white conglomerate, something between granite, marble, andquartz, though some portions are red. It is surrounded, except to theeast, by deserts, and may be called the monarch of those regions wherethe unvisited mountains stand. It possesses countless rocky glens andgorges, creeks and valleys, nearly all containing reservoirs of thepurest water. When the Australian summer sunset smooths the roughnessof the corrugated range, like a vast and crumpled garment, spread bythe great Creator's hand, east and west before me stretching, theseeternal mountains stand. It is a singular feature in a strange land, and God knows by what beady drops of toilsome sweat Tietkens and Irescued it from its former and ancient oblivion. Its position inlatitude is between the 24th and 25th parallels, and its longitudebetween 127 degrees 30' and 128 degrees 30'. I named it the RawlinsonRange, after Sir Henry Rawlinson, President of the Royal GeographicalSociety of London. I found a singular moth- and fly-catching, plant inthis range; it exudes a gummy substance, by which insects becomeattached to the leaves. The appearance of this range from a distanceis white, flat, corrugated, rounded, and treeless. It rises between1100 and 1200 feet in its highest portions, about the centre, in theneighbourhood of Fort McKellar, above the surrounding country, thoughits greatest elevation above the sea is over 3000 feet. 

On the 1st of February, after a very hot night, we made a late startfor the North-west Mountain, which now bore nearly north-east. It tooksome miles to get clear of the stones of the range, the appearance ofthe new feature we were steering for being most inviting. Itscorrugated front proclaimed the existence of ravines and gorges, whilea more open valley ran between it and some lower hills immediately tothe west of it. 

The horses were so delighted to get off the stones, that theytravelled uncommonly fast, and we got over twenty-eight miles bynight, though the country was exceedingly heavy travelling, being allhigh, red sandhills, and until near the end of our day's stage wecould scarcely ever see the mountain at all. We encamped withoutwater, but I expected to get some early next day at the mountain. Twoof the horses lay down at the camp all night, being thirsty, tired, and footsore; there was no grass for them. The thermometer to-dayindicated 108 degrees in the shade. A great number of the horses, frombeing footsore, were lying down this morning, and when mustered theyall looked excessively hollow and thirsty. If no water be found atthis mountain, how many of them will be alive in a couple of days?Yesterday we made twenty-eight, and to-day at twenty-three, miles wereached the foot of the mount. There was an inviting valley, up whichwe took the horses a mile. Then, leaving Gibson and Jimmy to await ourreturn, Mr. Tietkens and I rode away in search of water. It wasevident that only a trifling shower, if any, had visited this range, for not a drop of water could be found, nor any rock reservoirs whereit might lodge. We parted company, and searched separately, but whenwe met again we could only report to each other our non-success. Itwas now past two o'clock, our horses had been ridden somewhat fastover the most horrible and desolate stony places, where no water is, and they were now in a very exhausted state, especially Mr. Tietkens's. 

There were yet one or two ravines in the southern face of the range, and while I ascended the mountain, Mr. Tietkens and the others tookthe horses round that way and searched. From the summit of thissterile mount I had expected at least a favourable view, but to myintense disappointment nothing of the kind was to be seen. Two littlehills only, bearing 20 and 14 degrees west of north, were the soleobjects higher than the general horizon; the latter was formedentirely of high, red sandhills, with casuarina between. To the eastonly was a peaked and jagged range, which I called Mount Robert, aftermy brother; all the rest was a bed of undulating red sand. What was tobe hoped from a region such as this? Could water exist in it? It wasscarcely possible. For an independent watercourse I could not hope, because in the many hundreds of miles westward from the telegraph linewhich we had travelled, no creek had been met, except in the immediatevicinity of ranges, and not a drop of water, so to speak, had Iobtained away from these. I was upon the point of naming this MountDisappointment, it looked so inviting from a distance, and yet I couldfind no water; and if none here, what possibility could there be ofgetting any in the midst of the dense bed of sandhills beyond? I didnot test the boiling-point of water, for I had none to boil, but theelevation was about 1100 feet above the surrounding country. From adistance this mount has a very cheering and imposing appearance, and Iwould have gone to it from almost any distance, with a full belief inits having water about it. But if, indeed, the inland mountain hasreally voice and sound, what I could gather from the sighings of thelight zephyrs that fanned my heated brow, as I stood gazing hopelesslyfrom this summit, was anything but a friendly greeting, it was rathera warning that called me away; and I fancied I could hear a voicerepeating, Let the rash wand'rer here beware; Heaven makes nottravellers its peculiar care. 

Descending now, I joined the others at the foot of the hill, when Mr. Tietkens and Gibson informed me they had searched everywhere, but invain. The horses were huddled together in the shade of a thicket, three or four of them lying down with their packs on, and all lookingthe pictures of wretchedness and woe. It was now past four o'clock, and there was no alternative but to retreat. 

The Gorge of Tarns, thirty miles away, about south-south-west, was thenearest water, but between us and it was another low range with a kindof saddle or break in the middle. I wished, if possible, to get overthis before night, so we turned the horses' heads in that direction. One fine horse called Diamond seemed suffering more than the rest. Mr. Tietkens's riding-horse, a small blue roan, a very game little animalthat had always carried him well, albeit not too well treated, wasalso very bad, and two others were very troublesome to drive along. The saddle in the low range was a most difficult and stony pass; sodreadfully rough and scrubby was it, I was afraid that night woulddescend upon us before we could reach the southern side. Mr. Tietkens's Bluey gave in here, and fell heavily down a stony slopeinto a dense thicket of scrub; we had the greatest difficulty ingetting him out, and it was only by rolling him over the stones anddown the remainder of the slope, for he could not stand, that we gothim to the bottom. He was severely cut and bruised in the descent. Wejust managed to get clear of the stones by dark, and unpacked theexhausted animals, which had been travelling almost ever sincedaylight. We had no water except a mouthful for the little dog. Thethermometer stood at 108 degrees, ourselves and our horses werechoking for water. 

In the morning several of the horses were lying dying about the camp;Bluey, Diamond, a little cob--mate or brother of the one killed onElder's Creek--and one or two more, while those that were able hadwandered away. Though we were up and after them at three in themorning, it was ten before I could despatch Mr. Tietkens and Jimmywith the main mob. Poor little Bluey died soon after sunrise. Gibsonwas after the absent horses, which he brought at length, and we packedup and went after the others. Gibson's usual riding-horse, Trew, wasvery bad, and quite unable to carry him. Mr. Tietkens was now ridingan old horse which I had purchased in Victoria, and had owned for sometime; he was called Widge. I had him out on my former expedition. Hewas a cool, calculating villain, that no ordinary work could kill, andhe was as lively as a cricket when Mr. Tietkens rode him away; heusually carried a pack. Jimmy carried the little dog Cocky, now nearlydead from thirst and heat, though we had given him the last drop ofwater we possessed. Dogs, birds, and large beasts in Australia oftendie of heat, within sight of water. Jimmy was mounted on a gray-hippedhorse, which was also out on my former trip; he carried his rider wellto the end. Gibson I had mounted on a young bay mare, a creature asgood as they make them; she was as merry and gay, as it is possiblefor any of her sex, even of the human kind, to be. Her proper name wasthe Fair Maid of Perth; but somehow, from her lively, troublesome, andwanton vagaries, they called her the Sow-Cow. My own riding-horse, asmall, sleek, cunning little bay, a fine hack with excellent paces, called W. A. , I also had out previously. He would pull on his bridleall day long to eat, he would even pretend to eat spinifex; he was nowvery bad and footsore. Gibson and I overtook Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy, and we pushed on as fast as we could, the distance we had now to go, not being more than ten or eleven miles. The sandhills wereexceedingly high and severe, but all the horses got over the last one. 

We were now in full view of the range, with the Gorge of Tarns notmore than five miles away. But here Diamond and another, Pratt, that Ihad out by myself at the stinking pit in November, fell, never torise. We took off their packs and left them on the ground. Thethermometer then stood at 106 degrees in the shade. We pushed on, intending to return immediately with water to the relief of theseunfortunates. The pack-horses now presented a demoralised anddisorganised rout, travelling in a long single file, for it was quiteimpossible to keep the tail up with the leaders. I shall try to givemy reader some slight idea of them, if description is sufficientlypalpable to do so. The real leader was an old black mare, blear-eyedfrom fly-wounds, for ever dropping tears of salt rheum, fat, large, strong, having carried her 180 pounds at starting, and now desperatelythirsty and determined, knowing to an inch where the water was; on shewent, reaching the stony slopes about two miles from the water. Nextcame a rather herring-gutted, lanky bay horse, which having beenbought at the Peake, I called Peveril; he was generally poor, butalways able, if not willing, for his work. Then came a big bay cob, and an old flea-bitten gray called Buggs, that got bogged in theStemodia viscosa Creek, and a nuggetty-black harness-horse calledDarkie, always very fat. These last three carried 200 pounds each atstarting. Then Banks, the best saddle-horse I have, and which I hadworked too much in dry trips before reaching this range; he was verymuch out of sorts and footsore. Then an iron-grey colt, called Diaway, having been very poor and miserable when first purchased, but he was asplendid horse. Then came the sideways-going old crab, Terrible Billy. He was always getting into the most absurd predicaments--poor oldcreature; got down our throats at last!--falling into holes, and upand down slopes, going at them sideways, without the slightestconfidence in himself, or apparent fear of consequences; but the oldthing always did his work well enough. Blackie next, a handsome youngcolt with a white stripe down his face, and very fast; and Formby, abay that had done excellent harness-work with Diamond on the road tothe Peake; he was a great weight-carrier. The next was Hollow Back, who had once been a fine-paced and good jumping horse, but now onlyfit for packing; he was very well bred and very game. The next wasGiant Despair, a perfect marvel. He was a chestnut, old, large-framed, gaunt, and bony, with screwed and lately staked feet. Life for himseemed but one unceasing round of toil, but he was made of iron; nodistance and no weight was too much for him. He sauntered along afterthe leaders, looking not a whit the worse than when he left the lastwater, going neither faster nor slower than his wont. He wasdreadfully destructive with his pack-bags, for he would never get outof the road for anything less than a gum-tree. Tommy and Badger, twoof my former expedition horses; Tommy and Hippy I bought a second timefrom Carmichael, when coming up to the Peake. Tommy was poor, old, andfootsore, the most wonderful horse for his size in harness I ever saw. Badger, his mate, was a big ambling cob, able to carry a ton, but thegreatest slug of a horse, I ever came across; he seems absolutely torequire flogging as a tonic; he must be flogged out of camp, andflogged into it again, mile after mile, day after day, from water andto it. He was now, as usual, at the tail of the straggling mob, exceptGibson's former riding-horse called Trew. He was an excellent littlehorse, but now so terribly footsore he could scarcely drag himselfalong; he was one of six best of the lot. If I put them in their orderI should say, Banks, the Fair Maid of Perth, Trew, Guts (W. A. ), Diaway, Blackie and Darkie, Widge, the big cob Buggs--the flea-bittengrey--Bluey, Badger, who was a fine ambling saddle-horse, and Tommy;the rest might range anyhow. The last horse of all was the poor littleshadow of a cob, the harness-mate of the one killed at Elder's Creek. On reaching the stones this poor little ghost fell, never again torise. We could give him no relief, we had to push on. Guts gave in onthe stones; I let him go and walked to the water. I need scarcely sayhow thirsty we all were. On reaching the water, and wasting no time, Mr. Tietkens and I returned to the three fallen horses, taking with usa supply of water, and using the Fair Maid, Widge, Formby, and Darkie;we went as fast as the horses could go. On reaching the little cob wefound him stark and stiff, his hide all shrivelled and wrinkled, mouthwide open, and lips drawn back to an extraordinary extent. Pushing onwe arrived where Diamond and Pratt had fallen. They also were quitedead, and must have died immediately after they fell; they presentedthe same appearance as the little cob. Thus my visit to the North-westMountain had cost the lives of four horses, Bluey, Diamond, Pratt, andthe cob. The distance they had to travel was not great--less thanninety miles--and they were only two nights without water; but theheat was intense, the country frightful, and to get over the distanceas soon as possible, we may have travelled rather fast. The horses hadnot been well off for either grass or water at starting, and they weremostly footsore; but in the best of cases, and under the mostfavourable start from a water, the ephemeral thread of a horse's lifemay be snapped in a moment, in the height of an Australian summer, insuch a region as this, where that detestable vegetation, the triodia, and high and rolling sandhills exist for such enormous distances. Thevery sight of the country, in all its hideous terrors clad, issufficient to daunt a man and kill a horse. I called the vile mountainwhich had caused me this disaster, Mount Destruction, for a visit toit had destroyed alike my horses and my hopes. I named the range ofwhich it is the highest point, Carnarvon Range. 

We returned again to the Gorge of Tarns, as Mr. Tietkens very tritelyremarked, sadder but wiser men. Our position here is by no meansenviable, for although there is plenty of permanent water in thisrange, it appears to be surrounded by such extensive deserts thatadvance or retreat is equally difficult, as now I had no water intanks or otherwise between this and Fort Mueller, and not a horsemight ever reach that goal. I am again seated under the splashingfountain that falls from the rocks above, sheltered by the sunlesscaverns of this Gorge of Tarns, with a limpid liquid basin of thepurest water at my feet, sheltered from the heated atmosphere whichalmost melts the rocks and sand of the country surrounding us--sittingas I may well declare in the shadow of a great rock in a weary land, but we cannot shut out from the mind the perils we have endured, theperils we may yet have to endure. For the present our wants and thoseof our gallant horses are supplied, but to the traveller in such awilderness, when he once turns his back upon a water, theever-recurring question presents itself, of when and where shall Iobtain more? The explorer is necessarily insatiable for water; noquantity can satisfy him, for he requires it always and in everyplace. Life for water he will at any moment give, for water cannot bedone without. Thermometer in outer shade 106 degrees; in the caverns98 degrees. 

We shall have to remain here for a few days. The bare rocks in thisglen and the walls of stone that form it become so heated during theday that the nights passed in it are most oppressive. The rocks havenot time to cool before the sun is upon them again, and at evening, when descending from the caves, we find the thermometer actually risesin the night air. In the caves during to-day it was 98 degrees, and ateight o'clock at night outside it was 101 degrees. We are pesteredhere terribly by flies, but not plagued by either ants or mosquitoes. This evening Gibson and Jimmy shot three wallabies. This range swarmsalso with pigeons in every gorge and glen, and they come in clouds atnight and morning for water. Unfortunately nearly all our sportingammunition is gone, though I have a good supply of defensive. To-daythe thermometer in the caves was only 88 degrees while in the outsideshade 104 degrees, the cause being hot winds from the south-east. While here we shod the most tender-footed of our horses. There was agood deal of thunder and lightning. The daytime in this gorge is lessoppressive than the night. The sun does not appear over the easternhills until nearly nine o'clock, and it passes behind the western onesat about 4. 15 p. M. The horses cannot recover well here, the groundbeing too stony, and the grass and herbage too poor; therefore I shallretreat to the Pass of the Abencerrages and the pleasant encampment ofSladen Water. One horse, Tommy, was still very bad, and had to be lefton the road, not from want of water, but old age and exhaustion. Isent for him the next day, and he rejoined the mob. We got back on the12th of February; there was a fine lot of ducks when we arrived, butthose sportsmen Gibson and Jimmy went blazing away as usual withoutgetting one, wasting the powder and shot, which has now become such ascarcity, and losing and making the ducks wild into the bargain. Thebirds were so frightened that they split into several mobs, and onlyone mob of eight remained at the pass. I wanted to get these, and wentto some trouble to do so. I first walked away and got a horse, andriding him bare-backed I drove the ducks quietly down to the campwater-hole, but the moment they arrived, I being behind with thehorse, Gibson and Jimmy must needs go blazing away at them again, although they knew they could never hit any of them; and just as Iarrived I heard the report and saw all the ducks come flying overheadup the pass. They went up therefore through the regions of the airsinging sweetly as they went, but I did not sing so sweetly on theoccasion. Then ensued quite a scientific little ornithological lectureon my part, referring mostly to the order of ducks, and the speciesknown as wild ones more particularly, and I explained the subject tothem in such a plain and forcible manner that both of them admittedthey quite understood what I was talking about, which is a greatmatter for lecturers to consider, because if, after a forcibleharangue, a speaker's audience is in any way mystified, or not intouch with him as to the meaning of his remarks, why, then, his timeand labour are both lost; therefore I purposely refrained from anyambiguity, and delivered my figures of speech and rounded periods inwords suitable for the most ordinary comprehension, and I really thinkit had a good effect on both of them. Of course I addressed them morein sorrow than in anger, although the loss of eight ducks was afrightfully heavy one to all of us; but I was partially consoled withthe thought that they would have to bear their share of the loss. Afew hours afterwards I went after the ducks again, and by good fortunebagged six in one shot; one got away in the bushes, and the other flewaway; and he seemed to me to have a very crooked flew at that. Thesewere the fattest birds I ever ate. We had a fine supper of ducks, their flavour being sup(p)er-excellent. 

(ILLUSTRATION: DRAGGED BY DIAWAY. )

(ILLUSTRATION: ATTACK AT SLADEN WATER. )

The ants were terribly troublesome at this waterhole, although weslept on the damp sand; so we shifted the camp up to the sweetwater-hole, and selected as open a piece of ground as possible, as Iintended the camp to remain here for a week or two. More thunder andlightning, with great heat and a few drops of rain. Thermometer, 106degrees. There were countless numbers of the little cockatoo parrotshere; they are very shy, and even when Gibson or Jimmy lets off a gunat them, a dozen or two are sure to fall; it takes some time, however, before another shot can be had at them. I fancy they are migrating. The pigeons swarm at night to water. I intend to visit the ridgeswhich I mentioned as lying to the south-west, from the west end ofthis range. We shod the old black mare, Diaway, and old Buggs, to takewith us. The 18th of February, 1874, was like to have proved a mosteventful day in my life, for it was very nearly the termination of it. I was riding Diaway, the colt just shod; he is seldom ridden, though avery fine hack, as he is such a splendid weight-carrier as apackhorse; he is rather skittish, and if anything goes wrong with hispack, he'll put it right (on the ground) almost instantaneously. I wasdriving all the horses up to the camp, when one broke from the mob, and galloped across the creek. There was a bank of stones about threefeet high, which was hidden by a growth of rushes; Diaway wentbounding over the great bushes and inequalities of the channel, andreached the bank without seeing it, until too late, when he made abound at, but fell on the top of, it, rolling over upon me at the sametime. He scrambled up, but left me on the broad of my back. On my feetwere those wonderful boots before described, with the sixty horseshoenails in each, and it was no wonder that one of my feet got caught inthe stirrup on the off side of the horse. It is one of the mosthorrible positions that the mind can well imagine, to contemplatebeing dragged by a horse. I have been dragged before now, and onlyescaped by miracles on each occasion. In this case, Diaway, finding meattached to him, commenced to lash out his newly shod heels at me, bounding away at the same time into a dense thicket of scrub close by. Mr. Tietkens and the others seeing the accident came running upbehind, as Diaway and I were departing. Fortunately I was not draggedfar, but was literally kicked free from and by, the frightened anduncontrolled animal. The continual kickings I received--some on mylegs and body, but mostly upon that portion of the frame which it isconsidered equally indecorous to present either to a friend or anenemy--at length bent one or two of the nail-heads which held me, and, tearing the upper leather off my boot, which fortunately was old, ripped it off, leaving me at length free. As I lay on my excoriatedback, I saw Diaway depart without me into the scrub, with feelings ofthe most profound delight, although my transports were considerablylessened by the agonising sensations I experienced. Mr. Tietkenshelped me to hobble over to the camp in a most disorganised state, though thanking Providence for so fortunate an escape. Had Diaway butentered the scrub not two yards from where I was released, I could nothave existed more than a minute. The following day Mr. Tietkens wasgetting everything ready to go with me to the south-west ridges, though I had great doubts of my ability to ride, when we became awareof the presence of a whole host of natives immediately below the camp. All the morning the little dog had been strangely perturbed, and weknew by the natives' fires that they were in our immediateneighbourhood. There was so much long grass and tall rushes in thecreek bed, that they could approach very close before we couldpossibly see them. So soon as they found themselves detected, as usualthey set up the most horrible yells, and, running up on the openground, sent a flight of spears at us before a rifle or a gun could beseized, and we had to jump behind a large bush, that I left standingon purpose, to escape. Our stand of arms was there, and we immediatelyseized them, sending the bullets flying just above their heads and attheir feet. The report of the weapons and the whirring sound of theswiftly passing shots made them pause, and they began an harangue, ordering us out of their territories, to the south. Seeing us, however, motionless and silent, their courage returned, and again theyadvanced, uttering their war cries with renewed energy. Again thespears would have been amongst us; but I, not relishing even the ideaof barbed spears being stuck through my body, determined not to permiteither my own or any of my party's lives to be lost for the sake ofnot discharging my firearms. Consequently we at length succeeded incausing a rout, and driving the enemy away. There were a great numberof natives in the bushes, besides those who attacked us. There werenot many oldish men among them, only one with grey hair. I am remindedhere to mention that in none of my travels in these western wilds haveI found any places of sepulture of any kind. The graves are notconsumed by the continual fires that the natives keep up in theirhuntings, for that would likewise be the fate of their old anddeserted gunyahs, which we meet with frequently, and which are neitherall nor half destroyed. Even if the natives put no boughs or sticksupon their graves, we must see some mounds or signs of burial-places, if not of bones or skulls. My opinion is, that these people eat theiraged ones, and most probably those who die from natural causes also. 

It was a cool, breezy day, and, in consequence of the hostile actionof the natives, I did not depart on the south-west excursion. I wasnot sorry to delay my departure, for I was in great pain all over. Inow decided to leave Mr. Tietkens and take Jimmy with me. I cannot sayI anticipate making any valuable discovery on this trip; for had therebeen ranges of any elevation to the westward, or beyond the ridges inquestion, I should in all probability have seen them from the end ofthis range, and should have visited them in preference to MountDestruction. I felt it incumbent on me to visit them, however, as fromthem I might obtain a view of some encouraging features beyond. 

CHAPTER 2. 8. FROM 20TH FEBRUARY TO 12TH MARCH, 1874. 

Journey south-west. Glens and springs. Rough watering-place. A marble bath. Glassy rocks. Swarms of ants. Solitary tree. An oven. Terrible night. And day. Wretched appearance of the horses. Mountains of sand. Hopeless view. Speculations. In great pain. Horses in agony. Difficulty in watering them. Another night of misery. Dante's Inferno. The waters of oblivion. Return to the pass. Dinner of carrion. A smoke-house. Tour to the east. Singular pinnacle. Eastern ranges. A gum creek. Basins of water. Natives all around. Teocallis. Horrid rites. A chip off the old block. A wayside inn. Gordon's Springs. 

Taking Jimmy and three horses, we travelled, after clearing the pass, on the south slopes of the range westward, crossing several smallcreek-channels, which might or might not have waters in them. Attwelve miles we came to a green-looking channel and found water, running so far down as a rocky hole, near where we crossed. Weoutspanned here for an hour, as I found riding very severe toil aftermy late kicking. I named this secluded but pretty little spot, GlenHelen. It was very rough travelling ground--worse than on the northernside of the range. Three miles farther, we crossed another runningwater, and called it Edith Hull's Springs. At ten miles farther, aftercrossing several channels, we turned up one, and got some water in avery rough and stony gorge off the main channel, which was dry. Therewas very poor feed, but we were compelled to remain, as there was noother creek in sight for some miles, and the horses, although shod, could only travel slowly over the terribly rough ground. When weturned them out, they preferred to stand still, rather than roam aboutamong the rocks and boulders for food. The day was cool; the southernhorizon, the only one we could see, was bounded entirely by redsandhills and casuarina timber. The horses ate nothing all night, andstood almost where they were hobbled. 

In this region, and in the heat of summer, the moment horses, nomatter how fat and fresh they may be, are taken away from theircompanions to face the fearful country that they know is before them, they begin to fret and fall away visibly. They will scarcely eat, andget all the weaker in consequence, and then they require twice as muchwater as they otherwise would if their insides were partly filled withgrass. When I released our three from the hobbles this morning, theyimmediately pretended to feed; but this old ruse has been experiencedbefore, and time was now up, to move on again. They were very thirsty, and nearly emptied the rock basin, where we had a kind of bath beforestarting. Along the foot-hills over which we were obliged to travel, the country was much rougher than yesterday; so much so, that I keptaway as much as possible. At twenty miles we turned up acreek-channel, which proved to be a dreadful gorge, being choked upwith huge boulders of red and white granite. Among these I found afine rock tarn; indeed, I might call it a marble bath, for the rockwas almost pure white, and perfectly bare all round. The water wasconsiderably over our heads, and felt as cold as ice. It was adreadful place to get horses up to, and two of them fell two or threetimes on the glassy, shelving, and slippery rocks. The old grey, Buggs, hurt himself a good deal. 

Time seems to fly in these places, except when you want it to do so, and by the time the horses got down from the water the day was nearlygone. The feed for them was very little better than at our lastnight's camp, nor was the glen any less stony or rough. The day was 12degrees hotter than yesterday; the thermometer indicated 104 degrees. The ants in this glen were frightful; they would not allow me amoment's rest anywhere. There was but one solitary eucalyptus orgum-tree, and in its scanty shade they swarmed in countless myriads. The sun poured his fiery beams full down upon us, and it was not untilhe departed over the cliffs to the west that we had a moment'srespite; the place was a perfect oven. 

I passed the time mostly in the marble bath, and then took a walk upto the top of the range and could see the hills I desired to visit;they now bore nearly south-west. So long as the sun's rays werepouring down upon their unsheltered hides, the horses would notattempt to eat, but when he departed they fed a little on the coarsevegetation. This glen, like all the others in this range, swarmed withpigeons, and we got enough for breakfast at one shot. During the hotmonths, I believe whites could live entirely on pigeons in this range. At the camp at Sladen Water they came to the water in clouds, theirvery numbers sometimes preventing us getting a good shot, and we hadbeen living entirely on them, for now we had no other meat. Unfortunately, our ammunition is almost exhausted, but so long as itlasts we shall have birds. When it is gone we must eat horseflesh, andshould have been driven to do so before now, only for these birds. Ihave an old horse now fattening for the knife, and I am sorry, i. E. Happy, to say, whenever I inspect him he looks better. The one I meanis the old sideways-going Terrible Billy. Poor old creature! To workso many years as he has done for man, and then to be eaten at last, seems a hard fate; but who or what can escape that inexorable shadow, death?

It may be the destiny of some of ourselves to be eaten; for I fullybelieve the natives of these regions look upon all living organisms asgrist for their insatiable mills. As night came on, I was compelled tolie down at last, but was so bitten and annoyed by the ants, that Ihad to keep moving about from place to place the whole night long, while the [in]sensible Jimmy lay sleeping and snoring, though swarmedover and almost carried away by the ants, as peacefully as though hehad gone to rest under the canopy of costly state, and lulled withsounds of sweetest melody. I could not help moralising, as I oftenstood near him, wondering at his peace and placidity, upon thedifferences of our mental and physical conditions: here was one humanbeing, young and strong, certainly, sleeping away the, to me, drearyhours of night, regaining that necessary vigour for the toils of thecoming day, totally oblivious of swarms of creeping insects, that notonly crawled all over him, but constantly bit into his flesh; whileanother, who prided himself perhaps too much upon the mental powersbestowed by God upon him, was compelled by the same insects to wanderthrough the whole night, from rock to rock and place to place, unableto remain for more than a moment or two anywhere; and to whom sleep, under such circumstances, was an utter impossibility. Not, indeed, that the loss of sleep troubles me, for if any one could claim to becalled the sleepless one, it would be I--that is to say, when engagedin these arduous explorations, and curtained by night and the stars;but, although I can do without sleep, I require a certain amount ofhorizontal repose, and this I could not obtain in this fearful glen. It was, therefore, with extreme pleasure that I beheld the dawn, and:--

 "To the eastward where, cluster by cluster, Dim stars and dull planets that muster, Waxing wan in a world of white lustre, That spread far and high. "

No human being could have been more pleased than I at the appearanceof another day, although I was yet doomed to several hours more miseryin this dreadful gorge. The pigeons shot last night were coveredwithin and without by ants, although they had been put in a bag. Thehorses looked wretched, even after watering, and I saw that it wasactually necessary to give them a day's rest before I ventured withthem into the frightful sandhills which I could see intervened betweenus and the distant ridges. Truly the hours I spent in this hideousgorge were hours of torture; the sun roasted us, for there was noshade whatever to creep into; the rocks and stones were so heated thatwe could neither touch, nor sit upon them, and the ants were moretormenting than ever. I almost cried aloud for the mountains to fallupon me, and the rocks to cover me. I passed several hours in themarble bath, the only place the ants could not encroach upon, thoughthey swarmed round the edge of the water. But in the water itself werenumerous little fiendish water-beetles, and these creatures bit onealmost as badly as the ants. In the bath I remained until I was almostbenumbed by the cold. Then the sunshine and the heat in the gorgewould seem delightful for a few minutes, till I became baked with heatagain. The thermometer stood at 106 degrees in the shade of the onlytree. At three p. M. The horses came up to water. I was so horrifiedwith the place I could no longer remain, though Jimmy sat, andprobably slept, in the scanty one tree's shade, and seemed to pass thetime as comfortably as though he were in a fine house. In going up tothe water two of the horses again fell and hurt themselves, but theold blear-eyed mare never slipped or fell. At four p. M. We mounted, and rode down the glen until we got clear of the rough hills, when weturned upon our proper course for the ridges, which, however, we couldnot see. In two or three miles we entered the sandhill regions oncemore, when it soon rose into hills. The triodia was as thick andstrong as it could grow. The country was not, so to say, scrubby, there being only low bushes and scrubs on the sandhills, and casuarinatrees of beautiful outline and appearance in the hollows. When thehorses got clear of the stones they began to eat everything they couldsnatch and bite at. 

At fifteen miles from the gorge we encamped on a patch of dry grass. The horses fed pretty well for a time, until the old mare began tothink it time to be off, and she soon would have led the others backto the range. She dreaded this country, and knew well by experienceand instinct what agony was in store for her. Jimmy got them back andshort-hobbled them. There were plenty of ants here, but nothing to becompared to the number in the gorge, and having to remove my blanketsonly three or four times, I had a most delightful night's rest, although, of course, I did not sleep. The horses were sulky and wouldnot eat; therefore they looked as hollow as drums, and totally unfitto traverse the ground that was before them. However, this had to bedone, or at least attempted, and we got away early. We were in themidst of the sandhills, and here they rose almost into mountains ofsand. It was most fatiguing to the horses, the thermometer 104 degreesin the shade when we rested at twenty-two miles. Nor was this thehottest time of the day. We had been plunging through the sandmountains, and had not sighted the ridges, for thirty-seven miles, till at length we found the nearest were pretty close to us. Theyseemed very low, and quite unlikely to produce water. Reaching thefirst, we ascended it, and I could see at a glance that any prospectof finding water was utterly hopeless, as these low ridges, which rannorth and south, were merely a few oblique-lying layers of upheavedgranite, not much higher than the sandhills which surrounded them, andthere was no place where water could lodge even during rains. Not arise could be seen in any direction, except, of course, from where wehad come. We went on west five or six miles farther to the end ofthese, just about sundown: and long, indeed, will that peculiar sunsetrest in my recollection. The sun as usual was a huge and glaring ballof fire that with his last beams shot hot and angry glances of hate atus, in rage at our defiance of his might. It was so strange and sosingular that only at this particular sunset, out of the millionswhich have elapsed since this terrestrial ball first floated in ether, that I, or indeed any White man, should stand upon this wretched hill, so remote from the busy haunts of my fellow men. My speculations uponthe summit, if, indeed, so insignificant a mound can be said to have asummit, were as wild and as incongruous as the regions which stretchedout before me. In the first place I could only conclude that no watercould exist in this region, at least as far as the sand beds extend. Iwas now, though of course some distance to the south also, aboutthirty miles to the west of the most western portion of the RawlinsonRange. 

From that range no object had been visible above the sandhills in anywesterly direction, except these ridges I am now upon, and from these, if any other ranges or hills anywhere within a hundred miles of theRawlinson existed, I must have sighted them. The inference to be drawnin such a case was, that in all probability this kind of country wouldremain unaltered for an enormous distance, possibly to the very banksof the Murchison River itself. The question very naturally arose, Could the country be penetrated by man, with only horses at hiscommand, particularly at such a heated time of year? Oh, would that Ihad camels! What are horses in such a region and such a heatedtemperature as this? The animals are not physically capable ofenduring the terrors of this country. I was now scarcely a hundredmiles from the camp, and the horses had plenty of water up to nearlyhalfway, but now they looked utterly unable to return. What a strangemaze of imagination the mind can wander in when recalling the names ofthose separated features, the only ones at present known to supplywater in this latitude--that is to say, the Murchison River, and thisnew-found Rawlinson Range, named after two Presidents of the RoyalGeographical Society of London. The late and the present, the livingand the dead, physically and metaphysically also, are not thesefeatures, as the men, separated alike by the great gulf of theunknown, by a vast stretch of that undiscovered country from whosebourne no traveller returns?

The sun went down, and I returned to my youthful companion with thehorses below. We were fifty-one miles from the water we had left. Thehorses were pictures of misery, old Buggs's legs had swelled greatlyfrom the contusions he had received in falling on the slippery rocks. The old black mare which I rode, though a sorry hack, looked worsethan I had ever seen her before, and even the youthful andlight-heeled and -hearted Diaway hung his head, and one could almostspan him round the flanks. The miserable appearance of the animals wascaused as much by want of food as want of water, for they havescarcely eaten a mouthful since we left the pass; indeed, all they hadseen to eat was not inviting. 

We slowly left these desolate ridges behind, and at fifteen miles wecamped, Jimmy and I being both hungry and thirsty. Our small supply ofwater only tantalised, without satisfying us whenever we took amouthful. We now found we had nothing to eat, at least nothing cooked, and we had to sacrifice a drop of our stock of water to make aJohnny-cake. It was late by the time we had eaten our supper, and Itold Jimmy he had better go to sleep if he felt inclined; I thencaught and tied up the horses, which had already rambled some distanceaway. When I got back I found Jimmy had literally taken me at my word;for there he was fast asleep among the coals and ashes of the fire, inwhich we had cooked our cake. I rolled him over once or twice toprevent him catching fire, but he did not awake. The night was verywarm; I tried to lay down on my rug, but I was in such pain all overfrom my recent accident, that I could not remain still. I only waitedto allow Jimmy a little sleep, or else he would have fallen off hishorse, and caused more delay. I walked to, and tried to console, thehorses. Sleepless and restless, I could no longer remain. 

Fast asleep is Armor lying--do not touch him, do not wake him; butArmor had to be awakened. But first I saddled and put up everything onthe horses. Jimmy's lips were cracked and parched, and his tongue dryand half out of his mouth; I thought the kindest way to wake him wasto pour a little water into his mouth. Up he jumped in a moment, andaway we went at three o'clock in the morning, steering by the starsuntil daylight; slowly moving over sandhill after sandhill. Soon aftersunrise we fell in with our outgoing track, and continued on, thoughwe had great trouble to keep the horses going at all, until we reachedour old encampment of the night before last, being now only fifteenmiles from the water. For the last few miles the horses had gone sodreadfully slow, I thought they would give in altogether. So soon asthey were unsaddled they all lay down, shivering and groaningfearfully. 

To see a horse in a state of great thirst is terrible, the naturalcavity opens to an extraordinary size, and the creature strains andmakes the most lamentable noises. Mares are generally worse in thesecases than horses. Old Buggs and the mare were nearly dead. Diawaysuffered less than the others. We had yet a small quantity of water inour bag, and it was absolutely necessary to sacrifice it to the horsesif we wished them ever to return. We had but three pints, which wegave to Buggs and the mare, Diaway getting none. What the others gotwas only just enough to moisten their tongues. Leaving this place ateleven a. M. , we reached the gorge at sundown, travelling at the rateof only two miles an hour. The day was hot, 104 degrees at eleven a. M. When we took the saddles off the horses, they fell, as they could onlystand when in motion--old Buggs fell again in going up the gorge; theyall fell, they were so weak, and it took nearly an hour to get them upto the bath. They were too weak to prevent themselves from slippingin, swimming and drinking at the same time; at last old Buggs touchedthe bottom with his heels, and stood upon his hind-legs with hisforefeet against the rock wall, and his head bent down between, anddrank thus. I never saw a horse drink in that fashion before. 

It was very late when we got them back to the camp-tree, where we letthem go without hobbles. The ants were as rampant as ever, and Ipassed another night in walking up and down the glen. Towards midnightthe horses came again for water, but would not return, preferring toremain till morning rather than risk a passage down in the dark. 

I went right up to the top of the mountain, and got an hour's peacebefore the sun rose. In the morning all the horses' legs were puffedand swelled, and they were frightened to move from the water. I hadgreat trouble in getting them down at all. It was impossible to ridethem away, and here we had to remain for another day, in this Inferno. Not Dante's, gelid lowest circle of Hell, or city of Dis, could causemore anguish, to a forced resident within its bounds, than did thisfrightful place to me. Even though Moses did omit to inflict ants onPharaoh, it is a wonder Dante never thought to have a region of themfull of wicked wretches, eternally tortured with their bites, andstings, and smells. Dante certainly was good at imagining horrors. Butimagination can't conceive the horror of a region swarming with antsand then Dante never lived in an ant country, and had no conceptionwhat torture such creatures can inflict. The smaller they are the moreterrible. My only consolation here was my marble bath, which thehorses had polluted; within its cool and shady depths I could alonefind respite from my tormentors. Oh, how earnestly did I wish that itswaters were the waters of oblivion, or that I could quaff some kindnepenthe, which would make me oblivious of my woes, for the persistentattacks of the ants unceasingly continued

"From night till morn, from morn till dewy eve. "

Here of course we had no dewy eve. Only one slight source of pleasureat length occurred to me, and that was, that Jimmy began to shiftabout a bit at last. On the 26th, with what delight I departed fromthis odious gorge after another night of restlessness, agony, andmisery, may perhaps be imagined, though of course I was indebted tothe glen for water, and unless we actually give up our lives, wecannot give up that. There was a good deal of water in this bath, asmay be supposed when horses could swim about in it. I called itEdith's Marble Bath, after my niece, having named Glen Edith alsoafter her on my former expedition. The stone here is not actuallymarble, though very like it. I saw no limestone in this range; theonly approach to it is in the limestone formation in the bed of theancient Lake Christopher, mentioned as lying to the west of theRawlinson Range. The stone here was a kind of milky quartz. We keptaway as much as possible off the rough slopes of the range, and got toGlen Helen at night, but old Buggs knocked up, and we had to lead, beat, and drive him on foot, so that it was very late before we got tothe glen. We got all three horses back to the pass early the next day. No natives had appeared, but the horses had never been seen since Ileft. Oh, didn't I sleep that night! no ants. Oh, happiness! I hadn'tslept for a week. 

The next day, the 28th of February, Gibson and Jimmy went to look forthe mob of horses. There was a watering-place about two miles and ahalf south from here, where emus used to water, and where the horsesdid likewise; there they found all the horses. There was a very markedimprovement in their appearance, they had thriven splendidly. There isfine green feed here, and it is a capital place for an explorer'sdepot, it being such an agreeable and pretty spot. Gibson and Jimmywent to hunt for emus, but we had none for supper. We got a supply ofpigeons for breakfast. Each day we more deeply lament that the end ofour ammunition is at hand. For dinner we got some hawks, crows, andparrots. I don't know which of these in particular disagreed with me, but I suppose the natural antipathy of these creatures to one another, when finding themselves somewhat crowded in my interior, was casusbelli enough to set them quarrelling even after death and burial; allI knew was the belli was going on in such a peculiar manner that I hadto abandon my dinner almost as soon as I had eaten it. It is nowabsolutely necessary to kill a horse for food, as our ammunition isall but gone. Mr. Tietkens and I went to find a spot to erect asmoke-house, which required a soft bank for a flue; we got a placehalf a mile away. Thermometer 104 degrees. Mr. Tietkens and Icommenced operations at the smoke-house, and the first thing we didwas to break the axe handle. Gibson, who thought he was a carpenter, blacksmith, and jack-of-all-trades by nature, without art, volunteeredto make a new one, to which no one objected. The new handle lasteduntil the first sapling required was almost cut in two, when the newhandle came in two also; so we had to return to the camp, while Gibsonmade another handle on a new principle. With this we worked whileGibson and Jimmy shod a couple of horses. A pair of poking brutes ofhorses are always away by themselves, and Mr. Tietkens and I went tolook for, but could not find them. We took the shovel and filled upthe emu water-hole with sand, so that the horses had to showthemselves with the others at the pass at night. For two or three dayswe shod horses, shot pigeons, and worked at the smoke-house. I did notlike the notion of killing any of the horses, and determined to make atrip eastwards, to see what the country in that direction was like. Wechopped up some rifle bullets for shot, to enable Gibson and Jimmy toremain while we were away, as a retreat to Fort Mueller from here wasa bitter idea to me. Before I can attempt to penetrate to the west, Imust wait a change in the weather. The sky was again becoming cloudy, and I had hopes of rain at the approaching equinox. 

The three horses we required for the trip we put down through thenorth side of the pass. On March 10th, getting our horses prettyeasily, we started early. As soon as we got clear of the pass on thenorth side, almost immediately in front of us was another pass, lyingnearly east, which we reached in five miles. I called this the WeldPass. From hence we had a good view of the country farther east. Acurved line of abrupt-faced hills traversed the northern horizon; theyhad a peculiar and wall-like appearance, and seemed to end at asingular-looking pinnacle thirty-four or five miles away, and lyingnearly east. This abrupt-faced range swept round in a half circle, northwards, and thence to the pinnacle. We travelled along the slopesof the Rawlinson Range, thinking we might find some more good gorgesbefore it ended, we being now nearly opposite the Alice Falls. One ortwo rough and stony gullies, in which there was no water, existed; thecountry was very rough. I found the Rawlinson Range ended in fifteenor sixteen miles, at the Mount Russell* mentioned before. Other rangesrose up to the east; the intervening country seemed pretty well filledwith scrub. We pushed on for the pinnacle in the northern line, butcould not reach it by night as we were delayed en route by searchingin several places for water. The day was hot, close, cloudy, andsultry. In front of us now the country became very scrubby as weapproached the pinnacle, and for about three miles it was almostimpenetrable. We had to stop several times and chop away limbs andboughs to get through, when we emerged on the bank of a small gumcreek, and, turning up its channel, soon saw some green rushes in thebed. A little further up we saw more, brighter and greener, andamongst them a fine little pond of water. Farther up, the rocks rosein walls, and underneath them we found a splendid basin of overflowingwater, which filled several smaller ones below. We could hear thesound of splashing and rushing waters, but could not see from whencethose sounds proceeded. This was such an excellent place that wedecided to remain for the rest of the day. The natives were all roundus, burning the country, and we could hear their cries. This morningwe had ridden through two fresh fires, which they lit, probably, toprevent our progress; they followed us up to this water. I supposethey were annoyed at our finding such a remarkably well-hidden place. It is a very singular little glen. There are several small mounds ofstones placed at even distances apart, and, though the ground wasoriginally all stones, places like paths have been cleared betweenthem. There was also a large, bare, flat rock in the centre of thesestrange heaps, which were not more than two and a half feet high. Iconcluded--it may be said uncharitably, but then I know some of theways and customs of these people--that these are small kinds ofteocallis, and that on the bare rock already mentioned the nativeshave performed, and will again perform, their horrid rites of humanbutchery, and that the drippings of the pellucid fountains from therocky basins above have been echoed and re-echoed by the drippingfountains of human gore from the veins and arteries of their bound andhelpless victims. Though the day was hot, the shade and the water werecool, and we could indulge in a most luxurious bath. The largest basinwas not deep, but the water was running in and out of it, over therocks, with considerable force. We searched about to discover by itssound from whence it came, and found on the left-hand side a creviceof white quartz-like stone, where the water came down from the upperrocks, and ran away partly into the basins and partly into rushes, under our feet. On the sloping face of the white rock, and where thewater ran down, was a small indent or smooth chip exactly the size ofa person's mouth, so that we instinctively put our lips to it, anddrank of the pure and gushing element. I firmly believe this chip outof the rock has been formed by successive generations of the nativepopulation, for ages placing their mouths to and drinking at thisspot; but whether in connection with any sacrificial ceremonies or no, deponent knoweth, and sayeth not. The poet Spenser, more than threehundred years ago, must have visited this spot--at least, inimagination, for see how he describes it:--

 "And fast beside there trickled softly down, A gentle stream, whose murmuring waves did play Amongst the broken stones, and made a sowne, To lull him fast asleep, who by it lay: The weary traveller wandering that way Therein might often quench his thirsty heat, And then by it, his weary limbs display; (Whiles creeping slumber made him to forget His former pain), and wash away his toilsome sweet. "

(ILLUSTRATION: GILL'S PINNACLE. )

There is very poor grazing ground round this water. It is onlyvaluable as a wayside inn, or out. I called the singular feature whichpoints out this water to the wanderer in these western wilds, Gill'sPinnacle, after my brother-in-law, and the water, Gordon's Springs, after his son. In the middle of the night, rumblings of thunder wereheard, and lightnings illuminated the glen. When we were starting onthe following morning, some aborigines made their appearance, andvented their delight at our appearance here by the emission of severalhowls, yells, gesticulations, and indecent actions, and, to hem us inwith a circle of fire, to frighten us out, or roast us to death, theyset fire to the triodia all round. We rode through the flames, andaway. 

CHAPTER 2. 9. FROM 12TH MARCH TO 19TH APRIL, 1874. 

The Rebecca. The Petermann range. Extraordinary place. The Docker. Livingstone's Pass. A park. Wall-like hills. The Ruined Rampart. Pink, green, and blue water. Park-like scenery. The Hull. A high cone. Sugar-loaf Peak. Pretty hills and grassy valleys. Name several features. A wild Parthenius. Surprise a tribe of natives. An attack. Mount Olga in view. Overtaken by the enemy. Appearance of Mount Olga. Breakfast interrupted. Escape by flight. The depot. Small circles of stone. Springs. Mark a tree. Slaughter Terrible Billy. A smoke signal. Trouble in collecting the horses. A friendly conference. Leave Sladen Water. Fort McKellar. Revisit the Circus. The west end of the range. Name two springs. 

The country towards the other ranges eastwards appeared poor andscrubby. We went first to a hill a good deal south of east, andcrossed the dry bed of a broad, sandy, and stony creek running north. I called it the Rebecca. From it we went to a low saddle between twohills, all the while having a continuous range to the north; this wasthe extension beyond the pinnacle of the wall-like crescent. Aconspicuous mount in this northern line I called Mount Sargood*. Fromthis saddle we saw a range of hills which ran up from the south-west, and, extending now eastwards, formed a valley nearly in front of us. Icalled this new feature the Petermann Range. In it, a peculiar notchexisted, to which we went. This new range was exceedingly wall-likeand very steep, having a serrated ridge all along; I found the notchto be only a rough gully, and not a pass. We continued along therange, and at four miles farther we came to a pass where two highhills stood apart, and allowed an extremely large creek--that is tosay, an extremely wide one--whose trend was northerly, to comethrough. Climbing one of the hills, I saw that the creek came from thesouth-west, and was here joined by another from the south-east. Therewas an exceedingly fine and pretty piece of park-like scenery, enclosed almost entirely by hills, the Petermann Range forming a kindof huge outside wall, which enclosed a mass of lower hills to thesouth, from which these two creeks find their sources. This was a veryextraordinary place; I searched in vain in the pass for water, andcould not help wondering where such a watercourse could go to. Thecreek I called the Docker*. The pass and park just within it I calledLivingstone Pass and Learmonth* Park. Just outside the pass, northerly, was a high hill I called Mount Skene*. 

(ILLUSTRATION: VIEW ON THE PETERMANN RANGE. )

Finding no water in the pass, we went to the more easterly of the twocreeks; it was very small compared with the Docker. It was now dusk, and we had to camp without water. The day was hot. This range is mostsingular in construction; it rises on either side almostperpendicularly, and does not appear to have very much water about it;the hills indeed seem to be mere walls, like the photographs of someof the circular ranges of mountains in the moon. There was very finegrass, and our horses stayed well. We had thunder and lightning, andthe air became a little cooled. The creek we were on appeared to risein some low hills to the south; though it meandered about so much, itwas only by travelling, we found that it came from a peculiar ridge, upon whose top was a fanciful-looking, broken wall or rampart, with alittle pinnacle on one side. When nearly abreast, south, of thispinnacle, we found some water in the creek-bed, which was now verystony. The water was impregnated with ammonia from the excreta ofemus, dogs, birds, beasts, and fishes, but the horses drank it withavidity. Above this we got some sweet water in rocks and sand. Icalled the queer-looking wall the Ruined Rampart. There was a quantityof different kinds of water, some tasting of ammonia, some saltish, and some putrid. A few ducks flew up from these strange ponds. Therewas an overhanging ledge and cave, which gave us a good shade while weremained here, the morning being very hot. I called these MacBain's*Springs. 

Following the creek, we found in a few miles that it took its rise ina mass of broken table-lands to the south. We still had the high wallsof the Petermann to the north, and very close to us. In five miles weleft this water-shed, and descended the rough bed of another creekrunning eastwards; it also had some very queer water in it--there werepink, green, and blue holes. Ducks were also here; but as we had nogun, we could not get any. Some sweet water was procured by scratchingin the sand. This creek traversed a fine piece of open grassycountry--a very park-like piece of scenery; the creek joined another, which we reached in two or three miles. The new creek was of enormouswidth; it came from the low hills to the south and ran north, wherethe Petermann parted to admit of its passage. The natives were burningthe country through the pass. Where on earth can it go? No doubt waterexists in plenty at its head, and very likely where the natives arealso; but there was none where we struck it. I called this the Hull*. 

The main range now ran on in more disconnected portions than formerly;their general direction was 25 degrees south of east. We still had amass of low hills to the south. We continued to travel under the leaof the main walls, and had to encamp without water, having travelledtwenty-five miles from the Ruined Rampart. A high cone in the range Icalled Mount Curdie*. The next morning I ascended the eastern end ofMount Curdie. A long way off, over the tops of other hills, I couldsee a peak bearing 27 degrees south of east; this I supposed was, asit ought to be, the Sugar-loaf Hill, south westward from Mount Olga, and mentioned previously. To the north there was a long wall-like linestretching across the horizon, ending about north-east; this appearedto be a disconnected range, apparently of the same kind as this, andhaving gaps or passes to allow watercourses to run through; I calledit Blood's Range. I could trace the Hull for many miles, winding awaya trifle west of north. It is evident that there must exist somegigantic basin into which the Rebecca, the Docker, and the Hull, andvery likely several more further east, must flow. I feel morally surethat the Lake Amadeus of my former journey must be the receptacle intowhich these creeks descend, and if there are creeks running into thelake from the south, may there not also be others running in, from thenorth and west? The line of the southern hills, connected with thePetermann wall, runs across the bearing of the Sugar-loaf, so that Ishall have to pass over or through them to reach it. The outer wallsstill run on in disconnected groups, in nearly the same direction asthe southern hills, forming a kind of back wall all the way. 

Starting away from our dry encampment, in seven miles we came to wherethe first hills of the southern mass approached our line of march. They were mostly disconnected, having small grassy valleys lyingbetween them, and they were festooned with cypress pines, and somepretty shrubs, presenting also many huge bare rocks, and being verysimilar country to that described at Ayers Range, through which Ipassed in August. Here, however, the rocks were not so rounded and didnot present so great a resemblance to turtles. At two miles we reacheda small creek with gum timber, and obtained water by digging. Thefluid was rather brackish, but our horses were very glad of it, and wegave them a couple of hours' rest. I called this Louisa's Creek. Ahill nearly east of Mount Curdie I called Mount Fagan; another stilleastward of that I called Mount Miller. At five miles from Louisa'sCreek we struck another and much larger one, running to the north; andupon our right hand, close to the spot at which we struck it, was arocky gorge, through and over which the waters must tumble with adeafening roar in times of flood. Just now the water was not running, but a quantity was lodged among the sand under the huge boulders thatfill up the channel. I called this the Chirnside*. A hill in the mainrange eastward of Mount Miller I called Mount Bowley. At ten milesfrom Louisa's Creek we camped at another and larger watercourse thanthe Chirnside, which I called the Shaw*. All these watercourses ran upnorth, the small joining the larger ones--some independently, but allgoing to the north. Crossing two more creeks, we were now in the midstof a broken, pine-clad, hilly country, very well grassed and verypretty; the hills just named were on the north, and low hills on thesouth. Ever since we entered the Livingstone Pass, we have traversedcountry which is remarkably free from the odious triodia. Travellingalong in the cool of the next morning through this "wild Parthenius, tossing in waves of pine, " we came at six miles along our coursetowards the Sugar-loaf, to a place where we surprised some nativeshunting. Their wonderfully acute perceptions of sight, sound, andscent almost instantly apprised them of our presence, and as is usualwith these persons, the most frantic yells rent the air. Signal fireswere immediately lighted in all directions, in order to collect thescattered tribe, and before we had gone a mile we were pursued by amultitude of howling demons. A great number came running after us, making the most unearthly noises, screeching, rattling their spearsand other weapons, with the evident intention of not letting us departout of their coasts. They drew around so closely and so thick, thatthey prevented our horses from going on, and we were compelled to getout our revolvers for immediate use; we had no rifles with us. Anumber from behind threw a lot of spears; we were obliged to let thepack-horse go--one spear struck him and made him rush and jump about. This drew their attention from us for a moment; then, just as anotherflight of spears was let fly at us, we plunged forward on our horses, and fired our revolvers. I was horrified to find that mine would notgo off, something was wrong with the cartridges, and, though I snappedit four times, not a single discharge took place. Fortunately Mr. Tietkens's went off all right, and what with that, and the pack-horserushing wildly about, trying to get up to us, we drove the wretchesoff, for a time at least. They seemed far more alarmed at the horsesthan at us, of whom they did not seem to have any fear whatever. Weinduced them to retire for a bit, and we went on, after catching thepackhorse and breaking about forty of their spears. I believe a wildAustralian native would almost as soon be killed as have his spearsdestroyed. The country was now much rougher, the little grassy valleyshaving ceased, and we had to take to the hills. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ATTACK AT THE FARTHEST EAST. )

While travelling along here we saw, having previously heard itsrustle, one of those very large iguanas which exist in this part ofthe country. We had heard tales of their size and ferocity from thenatives near the Peake (Telegraph Station); I believe they call themParenties. The specimen we saw to-day was nearly black, and from headto tail over five feet long. I should very much have liked to catchhim; he would make two or three good meals for both of us. Occasionally we got a glimpse of the Sugar-loaf. At nine miles fromwhere we had encountered the enemy, we came to a bold, bare, roundedhill, and on ascending it, we saw immediately below us, that thishilly country ceased immediately to the east, but that it ran onsouth-easterly. Two or three small creeks were visible below, then athick scrubby region set in, bounded exactly to the east by Mount Olgaitself, which was sixty miles away. There was a large area of barerock all about this hill, and in a crevice we got a little water andturned our horses out. While we were eating our dinner, Mr. Tietkensgave the alarm that the enemy was upon us again, and instantly weheard their discordant cries. The horses began to gallop off inhobbles. These wretches now seemed determined to destroy us, for, having considerably augmented their numbers, they swarmed around us onall sides. Two of our new assailants were of commanding stature, eachbeing nearly tall enough to make two of Tietkens if not of me. Thesegiants were not, however, the most forward in the onslaught. Thehorses galloped off a good way, with Tietkens running after them: insome trepidation lest my revolver should again play me false, thoughof course I had cleaned and re-loaded it, I prepared to defend thecamp. The assailants immediately swarmed round me, those behindrunning up, howling, until the whole body were within thirty yards ofme; then they came on more slowly. I could now see that aggression onmy part was the only thing for it; I must try to carry the situationwith a coup. I walked up to them very fast and pointed my revolver atthem. Some, thinking I was only pointing my finger, pointed theirfingers at me. They all had their spears ready and quivering in theirwommerahs, and I am sure I should in another instant have beentransfixed with a score or two of spears, had not Mr. Tietkens, havingtied up the horses, come running up, which caused a moment'sdiversion, and both our revolvers going off properly this time, wemade our foes retreat at a better pace than they had advanced. Some oftheir spears were smashed in their hands; most of them droppedeverything they carried, and went scudding away over the rocks as fastas fear and astonishment would permit. We broke all the spears wecould lay our hands on, nearly a hundred, and then finished ourdinner. 

I would here remark that the natives of Australia have two kinds ofspears--namely, the game- and the war-spear. The game-spear is athick, heavy implement, barbed with two or three teeth, entirely madeof wood, and thrown by the hand. These are used in stalking largegame, such as emus, kangaroos, etc. , when the hunter sneaks on thequarry, and, at a distance of forty to fifty yards, transfixes it, though he may not just at the moment kill the animal, it completelyretards its progress, and the hunter can then run it to earth. Thewar-spears are different and lighter, the hinder third of them beingreed, the other two-thirds mulga wood; they are barbed, and thrownwith a wommerah, to a distance up to 150 yards, and are sometimes tenfeet long. 

After our meal we found a better supply of water in a creek about twomiles southward, where there was both a rock reservoir and sand water. We had now come about 130 miles from Sladen Water, and had foundwaters all the way; Mount Olga was again in sight. The question was, is the water there permanent? Digging would be of no avail there, itis all solid rock; either the water is procured on the surface orthere is none. I made this trip to the east, not with any presentintention of retreat, but to discover whether there was a line ofwaters to retreat upon, and to become acquainted with as much countryas possible. 

(ILLUSTRATION: MOUNT OLGA, FROM SIXTY MILES TO THE WEST. )

The sight of Mount Olga, and the thoughts of retreating to the east, acted like a spur to drive me farther to the west; we therefore turnedour backs upon Mount Olga and the distant east. I named this gorge, where we found a good supply of water, Glen Robertson*, and the creekthat comes from it, Casterton Creek. Mount Olga, as I said, borenearly due east; its appearance from here, which we always called thefarthest east, was most wonderful and grotesque. It seemed like fiveor six enormous pink hay-stacks, leaning for support against oneanother, with open cracks or fissures between, which came only abouthalf-way down its face. I am sure this is one of the mostextraordinary geographical features on the face of the earth, for, asI have said, it is composed of several enormous rounded stone shapes, like the backs of several monstrous kneeling pink elephants. At sixtymiles to the west its outline is astonishing. The highest point ofall, which is 1500 feet above the surrounding country, looked at fromhere, presents the appearance of a gigantic pink damper, or Chinesegong viewed edgeways, and slightly out of the perpendicular. We didnot return to the scene of our fight and our dinner, but went abouttwo miles northerly beyond it, when we had to take to the rough hillsagain; we had to wind in and out amongst these, and in four milesstruck our outgoing tracks. We found the natives had followed us upstep by step, and had tried to stamp the marks of the horses' hoofsout of the ground with their own. They had walked four or fiveabreast, and consequently made a path more easy for us to remark. Wesaw them raising puffs of smoke behind us, but did not anticipate anymore annoyance from them. We pushed on till dark, to the spot where wehad met them in the morning; here we encamped without water. 

Before daylight I went for the horses, while Mr. Tietkens got the swagand things ready to start away. I returned, tied up the horses, and wehad just begun to eat the little bit of damper we had for breakfast, when Mr. Tietkens, whose nervous system seems particularly alive toany native approach, gave the alarm, that our pursuers were again uponus, and we were again saluted with their hideous outcries. Breakfastwas now a matter of minor import; instantly we slung everything on tothe horses, and by the time that was done we were again surrounded. Ialmost wished we had only one of our rifles which we had left at home. We could do nothing with such an insensate, insatiable mob of wretchesas these; as a novelist would say, we flung ourselves into our saddlesas fast as we could, and fairly gave our enemies the slip, through thespeed of our horses, they running after us like a pack of yelpingcurs, in maddening bray. The natives ran well for a long distance, nearly three miles, but the pace told on them at last and wecompletely distanced them. Had we been unsuccessful in finding waterin this region and then met these demons, it is more than probable weshould never have escaped. I don't sigh to meet them again; the greatwonder was that they did not sneak upon and spear us in the night, butthe fact of our having a waterless encampment probably deterred them. We kept at a good pace till we reached the Chirnside, and gave ourhorses a drink, but went on twenty miles to Louisa's Creek before werested. We only remained here an hour. We saw no more of our enemies, but pushed on another twenty-two miles, till we reached the Hull, where we could find no water. 

On the subject of the natives, I may inform my reader that we oftensee places at native camps where the ground has been raised for manyyards, like a series of babies' graves; these are the sleeping-placesof the young and unmarried men, they scoop the soil out of a place andraise it up on each side: these are the bachelors' beds--twenty, thirty, and forty are sometimes seen in a row; on top of each raisedportion of soil two small fires are kept burning in lieu of blankets. Some tribes have their noses pierced, others not. Some have frontteeth knocked out, and others not. In some tribes only women haveteeth knocked out. 

Our supply of food now consisted of just sufficient flour to make twosmall Johnny-cakes, and as we still had over eighty miles to go, wesimply had to do without any food all day, and shall have preciselythe same quantity to-morrow--that is to say, none. In eleven or twelvemiles next morning we reached the caves near the Ruined Rampart, wherewe rested and allowed the horses to feed. At night we camped againwithout food or water. The morning after, we reached Gill's Pinnacleearly, and famished enough to eat each other. We mixed up, cooked, andate our small remnant of flour. The last two days have been reasonablycool; anything under 100 degrees is cool in this region. We found thatduring our absence the natives had placed a quantity of gum-leaves andsmall boughs into the interstices of the small mounds of stone, or asI call them, teocallis, which I mentioned previously; this hadevidently been done so soon as we departed, for they were now dead anddry. After bathing, remounting, we made good another twenty miles, andcamped in triodia and casuarina sandhills. We reached the camp at thepass by nine a. M. On the 19th, having been absent ten days. Gibson andJimmy were there certainly, and nothing had gone wrong, but these twopoor fellows looked as pale as ghosts. Gibson imagined we had gone tothe west, and was much perturbed by our protracted absence. 

The water in the open holes did not agree with either Gibson or Jimmy, and, when starting, I had shown them where to dig for a spring offresh water, and where I had nearly got a horse bogged one day when Irode there, to see what it was like. They had not, however, made theslightest effort to look for or dig it out. I gave them the last ofour medical spirits, only half a bottle of rum, at starting. They hadshot plenty of parrots and pigeons, and one or two ducks; but, nowthat the ammunition is all but gone, a single shot is of the greatestconsideration. We have only a few pounds of flour, and a horse we mustkill, in order to live ourselves. A few finishing touches to thesmoke-house required doing; this Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy went to do, while Gibson and I cut up a tarpaulin to make large water-bags, andwith a small lot of new canvas made four pairs of water-bags thatwould hold seven to eight gallons each. These, when greased with horsefat or oil, ought to enable me to get out some distance from thewestern extremity of this range. Poor old Terrible Billy came to waterearly, and I was much pleased with his appearance, but his littlehouse not being quite ready and the bags not completed, he has a dayor so longer of grace. I had looked forward eagerly to the time of theautumnal equinox, in hopes of rain. But all we got, however, was threedry thunderstorms and a few drops of rain, which fell upon us en routeto some more favoured land. The next day being Sunday, we had a day ofrest. 

Near the place to which I had been dragged, there were several littleheaps of stones, or rather, as a general rule, small circles ofpiled-up stones removed from where they had formerly lain, with theexception of a solitary one left in the centre. For what purpose thenatives could have made or cleared these places I cannot tell; theywere reserved for some ceremonies, no doubt, like those at Gill'sPinnacle. The last few days have been very cool, the thermometerindicating one day only 78 degrees in the shade. On the 25th Gibsontook the shovel to open out the springs formerly mentioned; they liein the midst of several little clumps of young eucalyptus suckers, theground all round being a morass, in which a man might almost sink, were it not for the thick growth of rushes. The water appears to flowover several acres of ground, appearing and disappearing in places. The moment a small space was cleared of the rushes, it became evidentthat the water was perpetually flowing, and we stood on rushes overour ankles in black soil. Gibson dug a small tank, and the water sooncleared for itself a beautiful little crystal basin of the purestliquid, much more delicious and wholesome than the half brackish waterin the bed of the creek. These springs have their origin at the footof the hill on the eastern side of this pass, and percolate into thecreek-bed, where the water becomes impregnated with salt or soda. Thewater in the open holes in the creek-bed is always running; I thoughtthe supply came from up the creek--now, however, I find it comes fromthese fresh-water springs. I branded a tree in this pass E. Giles withdate. 

On the 25th March the plump but old and doomed Terrible Billyconfidingly came to water at eleven o'clock at night. He took his lastdrink, and was led a captive to the camp, where he was tied up allnight. The old creature looked remarkably well, and when tied up closeto the smoke-house--innocent, unsuspecting creature of what the craftand subtilty of the devil or man might work against him--he had begunto eat a bunch or two of grass, when a rifle bullet crashing throughhis forehead terminated his existence. There was some little fat abouthim; it took some time to cut up the meat into strips, which were hungon sticks and placed in tiers in the pyramidal smoke-house. 

We had a fine supper of horse-steaks, which we relished amazingly. Terrible Billy tasted much better than the cob we had killed atElder's Creek. What fat there was on the inside was very yellow, andso soft it would not harden at all. With a very fat horse a salvage offat might be got on portions of the meat, but nearly every particle ofthe fat drips into oil. The smoke-house is now the object of oursolicitude; a column of smoke ascends from the immolated Billy nightand day. Our continual smoke induced some natives to make theirappearance, but they kept at a very respectful distance, coming nonearer than the summit of the hills, on either side of the pass, fromwhence they had a good bird's-eye view of our proceedings. Theysaluted us with a few cheers, i. E. Groans, as they watched us fromtheir observatory. 

The weather is now beautifully cool, fine, and clear. We had nowfinished smoking Terrible Billy who still maintained his name, for hewas terribly tough. I intended to make an attempt to push westwardfrom the end of this range, and all we required was the horses tocarry us away; but getting them was not the easiest thing in theworld, for they were all running loose. Although they have to come tothe pass to get water, there is water for more than a mile, and somecome sneaking quietly down without making the slightest noise, get adrink, and then, giving a snort of derision to let us know, off theygo at a gallop. They run in mobs of twos and threes; so now we havesystematically to watch for, catch, and hobble them. I set a watchduring the night, and as they came, they were hobbled and put downthrough the north side of the pass. They could not get back past thecamp without the watchman both hearing and seeing them; for it was nowfine moonlight the greater part of the night. We had ten or twelvehorses, but only two came to-night for water, and these got awaybefore we could catch them, as two of the party let them drink beforecatching them. None came in the day, and only two the next night;these we caught, hobbled, and put with the others, which were alwaystrying to get back past the camp, so to-night I had a horse saddled tobe sure of catching any that came, and keeping those we had. During mywatch, the second, several horses tried to pass the camp. I drove themback twice, and had no more trouble with them; but in the morning, when we came to muster them, every hoof was gone. Of course nobody hadlet them go! Every other member of the party informed me that theywere ready to take their dying oaths that the horses never got away intheir watches, and that neither of them had any trouble whatever indriving them back, etc. ; so I could only conclude that I must have letthem all go myself, because, as they were gone, and nobody else letthem go, why, of course, I suppose I must. After breakfast Mr. Tietkens went to try to recover them, but soon returned, informing mehe had met a number of natives at the smoke-house, who appeared verypeaceably inclined, and who were on their road down through the pass. This was rather unusual; previous to our conflict they had never comenear us, and since that, they had mostly given us a wide berth, andseemed to prefer being out of the reach of our rifles than otherwise. They soon appeared, although they kept away on the east side of thecreek. They then shouted, and when I cooeyed and beckoned them toapproach, they sat down in a row. I may here remark that the wordcooey, as representing the cry of all Australian aborigines, belongedoriginally to only one tribe or region, but it has been carried aboutby whites from tribe to tribe, and is used by the civilised andsemi-civilised races; but wild natives who have never seen whites useno such cry. There were thirteen of these men. Mr. Tietkens and I wentover to them, and we had quite a friendly conference. Their leader wasan individual of a very uncertain age--he might have been forty, or hemight have been eighty (in the shade). (This was written some timebefore the "Mikado" appeared. --E. G. ) His head was nearly bald on thecrown, but some long grizzly locks depended below the bald patch. 

The others were generally much younger, but some of them, though notclean past their youth, yet had about them some smacks of the saltnessof age. The old man was the most self-possessed; the others displayeda nervous tremor at our approach; those nearest us sidled closer totheir more remote and, as they no doubt thought, fortunate fellows;they were all extremely ill-favoured in face, but their figures werenot so outres, except that they appeared emaciated and starved, otherwise they would have been men of good bulk. Their legs werestraight, and their height would average five feet nine inches, allbeing much taller than Mr. Tietkens or I. Two remained at a distance;these had a great charge to superintend, it being no less than that ofthe trained wild dogs belonging to the tribe. There were three largedogs, two of a light sandy, and one of a kind of German colley colour. These natives were armed with an enormous number of light barbedspears, each having about a dozen. They do not appear to use theboomerang very generally in this part of the continent, although wehave occasionally picked up portions of old ones in our travels. Mr. Tietkens gave each of these natives a small piece of sugar, with whichthey seemed perfectly charmed, and in consequence patted the seat oftheir intellectual--that is to say, digestive--organs with greatgusto, as the saccharine morsels liquefied in their mouths. Theyseemed highly pleased with the appearance and antics of my little dog, who both sat and stood up at command in the midst of them. 

They kept their own dogs away, I presume, for fear we might want toseize them for food--wild dog standing in about the same relation to awild Australian native, as a sheep would to a white man. They eat allthe grown dogs they can catch, but keep a few pups to train forhunting, and wonderful hunting dogs they are. Hence their fear of ourtaking their pets. The old gentleman was much delighted with my watch. I then showed them some matches, and the instantaneous ignition ofsome grass in the midst of them was rather too startling a phenomenonfor their weak minds; some of them rose to depart. The old man, however, reassured them. I presented him with several matches, andshowed him how to use them; he was very much pleased, and having nopockets in his coat--for I might have previously remarked they werearrayed in Nature's simple garb--he stuck them in his hair. Mr. Tietkens, during this time, was smoking, and the sight of smokeissuing from his mouth seemed to disturb even the old man's assumedimperturbability, and he kept much closer to me in consequence. I nextshowed them a revolver, and tried to explain the manner of using it. Most of them repeated the word bang when I said it; but when I firedit off they were too agitated to take much notice of its effect on thebark of a tree, which might otherwise have served to point a moral oradorn a tale in the oral traditions of their race for ever. At thereport of the revolver all rose and seemed in haste to go, but I wouldnot allow my dear old friend to depart without a few last friendlyexpressions. One of these natives was pitted with small-pox. Theyseemed to wish to know where we were going, and when I pointed west, and by shaking my fingers intimated a long way, many of them pulledtheir beards and pointed to us, and the old man gave my beard a slightpull and pointed west; this I took to signify that they were awarethat other white people like us lived in that direction. Theconference ended, and they departed over the hills on the east side ofthe pass, but it was two hours before they disappeared. 

All the horses which had escaped in hobbles the other night now cameto water, and were put through the pass again. During the day wesecured the remainder, and had them altogether at last. It was noon ofthe 7th April when we left this delectable pass, again en route forthe west, hoping to see Sladen Water and the Pass of the Abencerragesno more. At fourteen miles we were delayed by Banks, carrying myboxes, as a strap broke, and he set to work to free himself ofeverything. Fortunately, one box with the instruments, quicksilver, etc. , remained firm; everything got bucked and kicked out of theother; buckskin gloves, matches, mineral collection, rifle cartridges, bottles of medicine, eye-water, socks, specimens of plants, etc. , allsent flying about in the thick triodia, for the brute went full gallopall round the mob of horses, trying to get rid of the other box andhis saddle. In spite of all his efforts they remained, and it waswonderful how many things we recovered, though some were lost. By thistime it was dusk, and the evening set in very cool. I now intended toencamp at the fine spring I named Fort McKellar, four miles east ofthe Gorge of Tarns. There was a fine and heavy clump of eucalyptustimber there, and a very convenient and open sheet of water for theuse of the camp. I had always looked upon this as an excellent anddesirable spot for an encampment, though we had never used it yet. Thegrass, however, is neither good nor abundant; the country around beingstony and sterile, except down the immediate valley of the channel, which was not wide enough to graze a mob of horses for long. Wereached it again on the 9th of April. 

My reader will remember that in January I had found a creek with alarge, rocky tarn of water, which I called the Circus; it was the lastwesterly water on the range, and I was anxious to know how it washolding out, as it must be our point of departure for any fartherefforts to the west. It was twenty miles from here, and Gibson and Irode up the range to inspect it. On our road we revisited the Gorge ofTarns; the water there had shrunk very much. Here we had left someuseless articles, such as three pack-saddle frames, a brokenthermometer, and sundry old gear; all these things the natives hadcarried away. I had a good swim in the old tarn, and proceeded, reaching the Circus early in the afternoon. There was the solitaryeagle still perched upon its rock. The water had become greatlyreduced; ten weeks and two days had elapsed since I was here; and inanother fortnight it would all be gone. If I intend doing anythingtowards the west it must be done at once or it will be too late. Theday was warm--102 degrees. A large flock of galars, a slate-colouredkind of cockatoo, and a good talking bird, and hundreds of pigeonscame to water at night; but having no ammunition, we did not bring agun. The water was so low in the hole that the horses could not reachit, and had to be watered with a canvas bucket. I have saidpreviously, that at the extremity of this range there lay an ancientlake bed, but I had only been a mile or two upon it. Further on therewere indications of salt, and as we were quite out of that commodity, we rode over to try and procure some, but none existed, and we had tobe satisfied with a quantity of samphire bushes and salt-bush leaves, which we took home with us, returning to Fort McKellar the followingday. I called the salt feature Lake Christopher. We remained at thedepot for a day or two, preparing for a start to the west, and cutrails, and fixed up some palisading for the fort. I delayed enteringthat evidently frightful bed of sand which lay to the west, in hopesof a change, for I must admit I dreaded to attempt the western countrywhile the weather was still so hot and oppressive. Though thethermometer may not appear to rise extraordinarily high in thisregion, yet the weight and pressure of the atmosphere is sometimesalmost overpowering. Existence here is in a permanent state oflanguor, and I am sure the others in the party feel it more than I do, being consumed with the fire or frenzy of renown for opening unknownlands, all others have to pale their ineffectual fires before it. Nodoubt, not being well fed is some cause for our feelings of lassitude. The horses are also affected with extreme languor, as well as the men. The thermometer to-day registered only 99 degrees. The horses arealways trying to roam away back to Sladen Water, and Mr. Tietkens andI had a walk of many miles after them to-day. I was getting reallyanxious about the water at the Circus. I scarcely dare to grapple withthat western desert in such weather, yet, if I do not, I shall losethe Circus water. 

Although we were near the change of the moon, I despaired of a changeof weather. I did not ask for rain, for it would be useless on thedesert sands; I only wanted the atmosphere to become a little lessoppressive. I had not been round the extreme western end of the range, though we had been to it, and I thought perhaps some creek might befound to contain a good rock-hole, perhaps as far to the west, if notfarther, than the Circus; on the opposite side of the range, Mr. Tietkens and Gibson, who volunteered, went to see what they coulddiscover, also to visit the Circus so as to report upon it. Jimmy andI remained and erected some more woodwork--that is to say, rails anduprights--for the fort. We walked over to re-inspect--Jimmy had notseen them--two glens and springs lying within a couple of miles to theeast of us, the first being about three-quarters of a mile off. I nownamed it Tyndall's Springs. Here a fine stream of running waterdescends much further down the channel than at any other spring in therange, though it spreads into no open sheets of water as at the depot;there was over a mile of running water. The channel is thickly setwith fine tall bulrushes. There is a very fine shady clump ofgum-trees here, close to the base of the range. The next spring, abouta mile farther east, I called Groener's Springs; it had not such astrong flow of water, but the trees in the clump at the head of itwere much larger and more numerous than at the last. Some of thetrees, as was the case at Fort McKellar, were of very considerablesize. Late at night Mr. Tietkens and Gibson returned, and reportedthat, although they had discovered a new rock-hole with seven or eightfeet of water in it, it was utterly useless; for no horses could getwithin three-quarters of a mile of it, and they had been unable towater their horses, having had to do so at the Circus. They said thewater there was holding out well; but Gibson said it had diminished agood deal since he and I were there a week ago. On the 19th April Itold the party it was useless to delay longer, and that I had made upmy mind to try what impression a hundred miles would make on thecountry to the west. I had waited and waited for a change, not to sayrain, and it seemed as far off as though the month were November, instead of April. I might still keep on waiting, until every ounce ofour now very limited supply of rations was gone. We were now, and hadbeen since Billy was killed, living entirely on smoked horse; we onlyhad a few pounds of flour left, which I kept in case of sickness; thesugar was gone; only a few sticks of tobacco for Mr. Tietkens andGibson--Jimmy and I not smoking--remained. I had been disappointed atthe Charlotte Waters at starting, by not being able to get my oldhorse, and had started from the Alberga, lacking him and the 200pounds of flour he would have carried--a deficiency which considerablyshortened my intended supply. A comparatively enormous quantity offlour had been lost by the continual rippings of bags in the scrubsfarther south, and also a general loss in weight of nearly ten percent. , from continual handling of the bags, and evaporation. We hadsupplemented our supplies in a measure at Fort Mueller and the Pass, with pigeons and wallabies, as long as our ammunition lasted, and nowit was done. When I made known my intention, Gibson immediatelyvolunteered to accompany me, and complained of having previously beenleft so often and so long in the camp. I much preferred Mr. Tietkens, as I felt sure the task we were about to undertake was no ordinaryone, and I knew Mr. Tietkens was to be depended upon to the last underany circumstances, but, to please Gibson, he waived his right, and, though I said nothing, I was not at all pleased. 

CHAPTER 2. 10. FROM 20TH APRIL TO 21ST MAY, 1874. 

Gibson and I depart for the west. His brother with Franklin. Desert oaks. Smoked horse. Ants innumerable. Turn two horses back. Kegs in a tree. No views. Instinct of horses. Sight a distant range. Gibson's horse dies. Give him the remaining one. The last ever seen of him. Alone in the desert. Carry a keg. Unconscious. Where is the relief party. A dying wallaby. Footfalls of a galloping horse. Reach the depot. Exhausted. Search for the lost. Gibson's Desert. Another smoke-house. Jimmy attacked at Fort McKellar. Another equine victim. Final retreat decided upon. Marks of floods. Peculiarity of the climate. Remarks on the region. Three natives visit us. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE CIRCUS. )

APRIL 20TH, 1874. 

Gibson and I having got all the gear we required, took a week's supplyof smoked horse, and four excellent horses, two to ride, and two tocarry water, all in fine condition. I rode the Fair Maid of Perth, anexcellent walker; I gave Gibson the big ambling horse, Badger, and wepacked the big cob, a splendid bay horse and fine weight-carrier, witha pair of waterbags that contained twenty gallons at starting. Theother horse was Darkie, a fine, strong, nuggetty-black horse, whocarried two five-gallon kegs of water and our stock of smoked horse, rugs, etc. We reached the Circus, at twenty miles, early, and thehorses had time to feed and fill themselves after being watered, though the grass was very poor. 

21ST APRIL. 

While I went for the horses Gibson topped up the water-bags and kegs, and poured a quantity of water out of the hole on to a shallow place, so that if we turned any horses back, they could drink withoutprecipitating themselves into the deep and slippery hole when theyreturned here. As we rode away, I remarked to Gibson that the day, wasthe anniversary of Burke and Wills's return to their depot at Cooper'sCreek, and then recited to him, as he did not appear to know anythingwhatever about it, the hardships they endured, their desperatestruggles for existence, and death there, and I casually remarked thatWills had a brother who also lost his life in the field of discovery. He had gone out with Sir John Franklin in 1845. Gibson then said, "Oh!I had a brother who died with Franklin at the North Pole, and myfather had a deal of trouble to get his pay from government. " Heseemed in a very jocular vein this morning, which was not often thecase, for he was usually rather sulky, sometimes for days together, and he said, "How is it, that in all these exploring expeditions a lotof people go and die?" I said, "I don't know, Gibson, how it is, butthere are many dangers in exploring, besides accidents and attacksfrom the natives, that may at any time cause the death of some of thepeople engaged in it; but I believe want of judgment, or knowledge, orcourage in individuals, often brought about their deaths. Death, however, is a thing that must occur to every one sooner or later. " Tothis he replied, "Well, I shouldn't like to die in this part of thecountry, anyhow. " In this sentiment I quite agreed with him, and thesubject dropped. At eleven miles we were not only clear of the range, but had crossed to the western side of Lake Christopher, and werefairly enclosed in the sandhills, which were of course covered withtriodia. Numerous fine casuarinas grew in the hollows between them, and some stunted blood-wood-trees, (red gum, ) ornamented the tops ofsome of the sandhills. At twenty-two miles, on a west course, weturned the horses out for an hour. It was very warm, there was nograss. The horses rested in the shade of a desert oak-tree, while weremained under another. These trees are very handsome, with roundumbrageous tops, the leaves are round and fringe-like. We had a mealof smoked horse; and here I discovered that the bag with our supply ofhorseflesh in it held but a most inadequate supply for two of us for aweek, there being scarcely sufficient for one. Gibson had packed it atstarting, and I had not previously seen it. The afternoon wasoppressively hot--at least it always seems so when one is away fromwater. We got over an additional eighteen miles, making a day's stageof forty. 

The country was all sandhills. The Rawlinson Range completelydisappeared from view, even from the tops of the highest sandhills, atthirty-five miles. The travelling, though heavy enough, had not beenso frightful as I had anticipated, for the lines of sandhills mostlyran east and west, and by turning about a bit we got several hollowsbetween them to travel in. Had we been going north or south, north-easterly or south-westerly, it would have been dreadfullysevere. The triodia here reigns supreme, growing in enormous bunchesand plots, and standing three and four feet high, while many of thelong dry tops are as high as a man. This gives the country theappearance of dry grassy downs; and as it is dotted here and therewith casuarina and blood-wood-trees, and small patches of desertshrubs, its general appearance is by no means displeasing to the eye, though frightful to the touch. No sign of the recent presence ofnatives was anywhere visible, nor had the triodia been burnt forprobably many years. At night we got what we in this region may beexcused for calling a grass flat, there being some bunches of a thinand wiry kind of grass, though white and dry as a chip. I never sawthe horses eat more than a mouthful or two of it anywhere, but therewas nothing else, and no water. 

22ND. 

The ants were so troublesome last night, I had to shift my bed severaltimes. Gibson was not at all affected by them, and slept well. We werein our saddles immediately after daylight. I was in hopes that a fewmiles might bring about a change of country, and so it did, but not anadvantageous one to us. At ten miles from camp the horizon becameflatter, the sandhills fell off, and the undulations became coveredwith brown gravel, at first very fine. At fifty-five miles it becamecoarser, and at sixty miles it was evident the country was becomingfirmer, if not actually stony. Here we turned the horses out, havingcome twenty miles. I found one of our large waterbags leaked more thanI expected, and our supply of water was diminishing with distance. Here Gibson preferred to keep the big cob to ride, against my advice, instead of Badger, so, after giving Badger and Darkie a few pints ofwater each, Gibson drove them back on the tracks about a mile and letthem go, to take their own time and find their own way back to theCircus. They both looked terribly hollow and fatigued, and went awayvery slowly. Sixty miles through such a country as this tellsfearfully upon a horse. The poor brutes were very unwilling to leaveus, as they knew we had some water, and they also knew what a fearfulregion they had before them to reach the Circus again. 

We gave the two remaining horses all the water contained in the twolarge water-bags, except a quart or two for ourselves. This allowedthem a pretty fair drink, though not a circumstance to what they wouldhave swallowed. They fed a little, while we remained here. The day waswarm enough. The two five-gallon kegs with water we hung in thebranches of a tree, with the packsaddles, empty water-bags, etc. Ofthe other two horses. Leaving the Kegs--I always called this place bythat name--we travelled another twenty miles by night, the countrybeing still covered with small stones and thickly clothed with thetall triodia. There were thin patches of mulga and mallee scruboccasionally. No view could be obtained to the west; all round us, north, south, east, and west, were alike, the undulations forming thehorizons were not generally more than seven or eight miles distantfrom one another, and when we reached the rim or top of one, weobtained exactly the same view for the next seven or eight miles. Thecountry still retained all the appearance of fine, open, dry, grassydowns, and the triodia tops waving in the heated breeze had all thesemblance of good grass. The afternoon had been very oppressive, andthe horses were greatly disinclined to exert themselves, though mymare went very well. It was late by the time we encamped, and thehorses were much in want of water, especially the big cob, who keptcoming up to the camp all night, and tried to get at our water-bags, pannikins, etc. The instinct of a horse when in the first stage ofthirst in getting hold of any utensil that ever had water in it, issurprising and most annoying, but teaching us by most persuasivereasons how akin they are to human things. We had one small water-baghung in a tree. I did not think of this just at the moment, when mymare came straight up to it and took it in her teeth, forcing out thecork and sending the water up, which we were both dying to drink, in abeautiful jet, which, descending to earth, was irrevocably lost. Wenow had only a pint or two left. Gibson was now very sorry he hadexchanged Badger for the cob, as he found the cob very dull and heavyto get on; this was not usual, for he was generally a most willinganimal, but he would only go at a jog while my mare was a fine walker. There had been a hot wind from the north all day. The followingmorning (23rd) there was a most strange dampness in the air, and I hada vague feeling, such as must have been felt by augurs, and seers ofold, who trembled as they told, events to come; for this was the lastday on which I ever saw Gibson. It was a lamentable day in the historyof this expedition. The horizon to the west was hid in clouds. We leftthe camp even before daylight, and as we had camped on the top of arim, we knew we had seven or eight miles to go before another viewcould be obtained. The next rim was at least ten miles from the camp, and there was some slight indications of a change. 

(ILLUSTRATION: FIRST VIEW OF THE ALFRED AND MARIE RANGE. )

We were now ninety miles from the Circus water, and 110 from FortMcKellar. The horizon to the west was still obstructed by another risethree or four miles away; but to the west-north-west I could see aline of low stony ridges, ten miles off. To the south was an isolatedlittle hill, six or seven miles away. I determined to go to theridges, when Gibson complained that his horse could never reach them, and suggested that the next rise to the west might reveal somethingbetter in front. The ridges were five miles away, and there wereothers still farther preventing a view. When we reached them we hadcome ninety-eight miles from the Circus. Here Gibson, who was alwaysbehind, called out and said his horse was going to die, or knock up, which are synonymous terms in this region. Now we had reached a pointwhere at last a different view was presented to us, and I believed achange of country was at hand, for the whole western, down to thesouth-western, horizon was broken by lines of ranges, being mostelevated at the south-western end. They were all notched andirregular, and I believed formed the eastern extreme of a moreelevated and probably mountainous region to the west. The ground wenow stood upon, and for a mile or two past, was almost a stony hillitself, and for the first time in all the distance we had come, we hadreached a spot where water might run during rain, though we had notseen any place where it could lodge. Between us and the hilly horizonto the west the country seemed to fall into a kind of long valley, andit looked dark, and seemed to have timber in it, and here also thenatives had formerly burnt the spinifex, but not recently. The hillsto the west were twenty-five to thirty miles away, and it was withextreme regret I was compelled to relinquish a farther attempt toreach them. Oh, how ardently I longed for a camel! how ardently Igazed upon this scene! At this moment I would even my jewel eternal, have sold for power to span the gulf that lay between! But it couldnot be, situated as I was; compelled to retreat--of course with theintention of coming again with a larger supply of water--now thesooner I retreated the better. These far-off hills were named theAlfred and Marie Range, in honour of their Royal Highnesses the Dukeand Duchess of Edinburgh. Gibson's horse having got so bad had placedus both in a great dilemma; indeed, ours was a most critical position. We turned back upon our tracks, when the cob refused to carry hisrider any farther, and tried to lie down. We drove him another mile onfoot, and down he fell to die. My mare, the Fair Maid of Perth, wasonly too willing to return; she had now to carry Gibson's saddle andthings, and we went away walking and riding by turns of half an hour. The cob, no doubt, died where he fell; not a second thought could bebestowed on him. 

When we got back to about thirty miles from the Kegs I was walking, and having concluded in my mind what course to pursue, I called toGibson to halt till I walked up to him. We were both excessivelythirsty, for walking had made us so, and we had scarcely a pint ofwater left between us. However, of what we had we each took amouthful, which finished the supply, and I then said--for I couldn'tspeak before--"Look here, Gibson, you see we are in a most terriblefix with only one horse, therefore only one can ride, and one mustremain behind. I shall remain: and now listen to me. If the mare doesnot get water soon she will die; therefore ride right on; get to theKegs, if possible, to-night, and give her water. Now the cob is deadthere'll be all the more for her; let her rest for an hour or two, andthen get over a few more miles by morning, so that early to-morrow youwill sight the Rawlinson, at twenty-five miles from the Kegs. Stick tothe tracks, and never leave them. Leave as much water in one keg forme as you can afford after watering the mare and filling up your ownbags, and, remember, I depend upon you to bring me relief. Rouse Mr. Tietkens, get fresh horses and more water-bags, and return as soon asyou possibly can. I shall of course endeavour to get down the tracksalso. "

(ILLUSTRATION: THE LAST EVER SEEN OF GIBSON. )

He then said if he had a compass he thought he could go better atnight. I knew he didn't understand anything about compasses, as I hadoften tried to explain them to him. The one I had was a Gregory'sPatent, of a totally different construction from ordinary instrumentsof the kind, and I was very loth to part with it, as it was the onlyone I had. However, he was so anxious for it that I gave it him, andhe departed. I sent one final shout after him to stick to the tracks, to which he replied, "All right, " and the mare carried him out ofsight almost immediately. That was the last ever seen of Gibson. 

I walked slowly on, and the further I walked the more thirsty Ibecame. I had thirty miles to go to reach the Kegs, which I could notreach until late to-morrow at the rate I was travelling, and I did notfeel sure that I could keep on at that. The afternoon was very hot. Icontinued following the tracks until the moon went down, and then hadto stop. The night was reasonably cool, but I was parched and chokingfor water. How I longed again for morning! I hoped Gibson had reachedthe Kegs, and that he and the mare were all right. I could not sleepfor thirst, although towards morning it became almost cold. How Iwished this planet would for once accelerate its movements and turnupon its axis in twelve instead of twenty-four hours, or rather thatit would complete its revolution in six hours. 

APRIL 24TH TO 1ST MAY. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ALONE IN THE DESERT. )

So soon as it was light I was again upon the horse tracks, and reachedthe Kegs about the middle of the day. Gibson had been here, andwatered the mare, and gone on. He had left me a little over twogallons of water in one keg, and it may be imagined how glad I was toget a drink. I could have drunk my whole supply in half an hour, butwas compelled to economy, for I could not tell how many days wouldelapse before assistance could come: it could not be less than five, it might be many more. After quenching my thirst a little I feltravenously hungry, and on searching among the bags, all the food Icould find was eleven sticks of dirty, sandy, smoked horse, averagingabout an ounce and a half each, at the bottom of a pack-bag. I wasrather staggered to find that I had little more than a pound weight ofmeat to last me until assistance came. However, I was compelled to eatsome at once, and devoured two sticks raw, as I had no water to spareto boil them in. 

After this I sat in what shade the trees afforded, and reflected onthe precariousness of my position. I was sixty miles from water, andeighty from food, my messenger could hardly return before six days, and I began to think it highly probable that I should be dead ofhunger and thirst long before anybody could possibly arrive. I lookedat the keg; it was an awkward thing to carry empty. There was nothingelse to carry water in, as Gibson had taken all the smallerwater-bags, and the large ones would require several gallons of waterto soak the canvas before they began to tighten enough to hold water. The keg when empty, with its rings and straps, weighed fifteen pounds, and now it had twenty pounds of water in it. I could not carry itwithout a blanket for a pad for my shoulder, so that with my revolverand cartridge-pouch, knife, and one or two other small things on mybelt, I staggered under a weight of about fifty pounds when I put thekeg on my back. I only had fourteen matches. 

After I had thoroughly digested all points of my situation, Iconcluded that if I did not help myself Providence wouldn't help me. Istarted, bent double by the keg, and could only travel so slowly thatI thought it scarcely worth while to travel at all. I became sothirsty at each step I took, that I longed to drink up every drop ofwater I had in the keg, but it was the elixir of death I was burdenedwith, and to drink it was to die, so I restrained myself. By nextmorning I had only got about three miles away from the Kegs, and to dothat I travelled mostly in the moonlight. The next few days I can onlypass over as they seemed to pass with me, for I was quite unconscioushalf the time, and I only got over about five miles a day. 

To people who cannot comprehend such a region it may seem absurd thata man could not travel faster than that. All I can say is, there maybe men who could do so, but most men in the position I was in wouldsimply have died of hunger and thirst, for by the third or fourthday--I couldn't tell which--my horse meat was all gone. I had toremain in what scanty shade I could find during the day, and I couldonly travel by night. 

When I lay down in the shade in the morning I lost all consciousness, and when I recovered my senses I could not tell whether one day or twoor three had passed. At one place I am sure I must have remained overforty-eight hours. At a certain place on the road--that is to say, onthe horse tracks--at about fifteen miles from the Kegs--at twenty-fivemiles the Rawlinson could again be sighted--I saw that the tracks ofthe two loose horses we had turned back from there had left the mainline of tracks, which ran east and west, and had turned abouteast-south-east, and the tracks of the Fair Maid of Perth, I wasgrieved to see, had gone on them also. I felt sure Gibson would soonfind his error, and return to the main line. I was unable toinvestigate this any farther in my present position. I followed themabout a mile, and then returned to the proper line, anxiously lookingat every step to see if Gibson's horse tracks returned into them. 

They never did, nor did the loose horse tracks either. Generallyspeaking, whenever I saw a shady desert oak-tree there was an enormousbulldog ants' nest under it, and I was prevented from sitting in itsshade. On what I thought was the 27th I almost gave up the thought ofwalking any farther, for the exertion in this dreadful region, wherethe triodia was almost as high as myself, and as thick as it couldgrow, was quite overpowering, and being starved, I felt quitelight-headed. After sitting down, on every occasion when I tried toget up again, my head would swim round, and I would fall downoblivious for some time. Being in a chronic state of burning thirst, my general plight was dreadful in the extreme. A bare and level sandywaste would have been Paradise to walk over compared to this. My arms, legs, thighs, both before and behind, were so punctured with spines, it was agony only to exist; the slightest movement and in went morespines, where they broke off in the clothes and flesh, causing thewhole of the body that was punctured to gather into minute pustules, which were continually growing and bursting. My clothes, especiallyinside my trousers, were a perfect mass of prickly points. 

My great hope and consolation now was that I might soon meet therelief party. But where was the relief party? Echo could onlyanswer--where? About the 29th I had emptied the keg, and was stillover twenty miles from the Circus. Ah! who can imagine what twentymiles means in such a case? But in this April's ivory moonlight Iplodded on, desolate indeed, but all undaunted, on this lone, unhallowed shore. At last I reached the Circus, just at the dawn ofday. Oh, how I drank! how I reeled! how hungry I was! how thankful Iwas that I had so far at least escaped from the jaws of that howlingwilderness, for I was once more upon the range, though still twentymiles from home. 

There was no sign of the tracks, of any one having been here since Ileft it. The water was all but gone. The solitary eagle still wasthere. I wondered what could have become of Gibson; he certainly hadnever come here, and how could he reach the fort without doing so?

I was in such a miserable state of mind and body, that I refrainedfrom more vexatious speculations as to what had delayed him: I stayedhere, drinking and drinking, until about ten a. M. , when I crawled awayover the stones down from the water. I was very footsore, and couldonly go at a snail's pace. Just as I got clear of the bank of thecreek, I heard a faint squeak, and looking about I saw, andimmediately caught, a small dying wallaby, whose marsupial mother hadevidently thrown it from her pouch. It only weighed about two ounces, and was scarcely furnished yet with fur. The instant I saw it, like aneagle I pounced upon it and ate it, living, raw, dying--fur, skin, bones, skull, and all. The delicious taste of that creature I shallnever forget. I only wished I had its mother and father to serve inthe same way. I had become so weak that by late at night, I had onlyaccomplished eleven miles, and I lay down about five miles from theGorge of Tarns, again choking for water. While lying down here, Ithought I heard the sound of the foot-falls of a galloping horse goingcampwards, and vague ideas of Gibson on the Fair Maid--or she withouthim--entered my head. I stood up, and listened, but the sound had diedaway upon the midnight air. On the 1st of May, as I afterwards found, at one o'clock in the morning, I was walking again, and reached theGorge of Tarns long before daylight, and could again indulge in asmuch water as I desired; but it was exhaustion I suffered from, and Icould hardly move. 

My reader may imagine with what intense feelings of relief I steppedover the little bridge across the water, staggered into the camp atdaylight, and woke Mr. Tietkens, who stared at me as though I had beenone, new risen from the dead. I asked him had he seen Gibson, and togive me some food. I was of course prepared to hear that Gibson hadnever reached the camp; indeed I could see but two people in theirblankets the moment I entered the fort, and by that I knew he couldnot be there. None of the horses had come back, and it appeared that Iwas the only one of six living creatures--two men and fourhorses--that had returned, or were now ever likely to return, fromthat desert, for it was now, as I found, nine days since I last sawGibson. 

Mr. Tietkens told me he had been in a great state of anxiety during myabsence, and had only returned an hour or two before from the Circus. This accounted for the sounds I heard. He said he had planted somesmoked horsesticks, and marked a tree. This was a few hours after Ihad left it in the morning. He said he saw my foot-marks, but couldnot conclude that I could be on foot alone, and he thought the tracksmust be older than they looked. Any how, we had missed meeting oneanother somewhere on the range. We were both equally horrified atGibson's mischance. When we woke Jimmy up he was delighted to see me, but when told about Gibson, he said something about he knowed heworn't no good in the bush, but as long as I had returned, etc. , etc. I told them both just what had occurred out there; how Gibson and Ihad parted company, and we could only conclude that he must be dead, or he would long before have returned. The mare certainly would havecarried him to the Circus, and then he must have reached the depot;but it was evident that he had gone wrong, had lost himself, and mustnow be dead. I was too much exhausted and too prostrate to move fromthe camp to search for him to-day, but determined to start to-morrow. Mr. Tietkens got everything ready, while I remained in a state ofsemi-stupor. I was cramped with pains in all my joints, pains in thestomach, and violent headaches, the natural result of having along-empty stomach suddenly filled. Gibson's loss and my strugglesformed the topic of conversation for most of the day, and it naturallyshed a gloom over our spirits. Here we were, isolated fromcivilisation, out of humanity's reach, hundreds of miles away from ourfellow creatures, and one of our small party had gone from us. It wasimpossible for him to be still in existence in that fearful desert, asno man would or could stay there alive: he must be dead, or he wouldhave returned as I did, only much sooner, for the mare he had, wouldcarry him as far in a day as I could walk in a week in this country. 

The days had not lately been excessively hot, Mr. Tietkens said 96 to98 degrees had been the average, but to-day it was only 90 degrees. This afternoon it was very cloudy, and threatened to rain. I was now, however, in hopes that none would fall. That evil spirit of thisscene--Mount Destruction--frowned upon us, and now that Gibson wasdead, exploration was ended; we had but to try to find his remains, and any little trifling shower that fell would make it all the moredifficult to trace him, while a thorough downpour would obliterate thetracks of our lost companion, entirely from the surface of the sandywaste into which he had so unfortunately strayed. Before daylight onthe 2nd we were awoke by the sprinkling of a light shower of rain, which was of not the slightest use; but it continued so long, makingeverything wet and clammy, that I felt sure we should have sometrouble in following Gibson's tracks. The rain ceased about seveno'clock. Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy got all the things we required, andthe horses. I was so weak I could do nothing. We took threepack-horses to carry water, and two riding-horses, Blackie and Diaway, to ride, with Widge, Fromby, and Hippy. Though Mr. Tietkens and Jimmyhad not been attacked during my absence, the natives were alwaysprowling about, and I did not like the idea of leaving Jimmy alone;but as he said he was willing to remain, we left him. I had to beliterally put on to my horse Blackie, and we rode away. Not to worrymy reader more than I can help, I may say we had to return to theKegs, to get the bags left there, and some indispensable things; alsoGibson's saddle, which he left nine or ten miles beyond the Kegs in atree. Going all that distance to get these things, and returning towhere Gibson's tracks branched off, we had to travel 115 miles, whichmade it the third night the horses had been out. We gave them some ofthe water we carried each night, and our supply was now nearly allgone. It was on the 6th May when we got back to where Gibson had leftthe right line. We fortunately had fine, cool weather. As long asGibson remained upon the other horse-tracks, following them, thoughnot very easy, was practicable enough; but the unfortunate man hadleft them, and gone away in a far more southerly direction, having themost difficult sandhills now to cross at right angles. He had burnt apatch of spinifex, where he left the other horse-tracks, and must havebeen under the delusion that they were running north, and that themain line of tracks must be on his right, instead of his left hand, and whether he made any mistake or not in steering by the compass, itis impossible to say, but instead of going east as he should, heactually went south, or very near it. In consequence of smallreptiles, such as lizards, always scratching over all horse tracks inthis region during the night, and also the slight rain we had theother morning, combined with wind, the shifting nature of the sandysoil, and the thick and bushy spinifex, we could make but poor headwayin following the single track, and it was only by one of us walkingwhile the other brought on the horses, that we could keep the track atall. Although we did not halt during the whole day, we had not beenable to track him by night more than thirteen miles. Up to this pointthere was evidently no diminution of the powers of the animal hebestrode. We camped upon the tracks the fourth night without water, itbeing impossible to follow in the moonlight. We gave our horses allour remaining stock of water. 

We began to see that our chance of finding the remains of our lostcompanion was very slight. I was sorry to think that the unfortunateman's last sensible moments must have been embittered by the thoughtthat, as he had lost himself in the capacity of a messenger for myrelief, I too must necessarily fall a victim to his mishap. 

I called this terrible region that lies between the Rawlinson Rangeand the next permanent water that may eventually be found to the west, Gibson's Desert, after this first white victim to its horrors. 

Gibson, having had my horse, rode away in my saddle with my fieldglasses attached; but everything was gone--man and horse alikeswallowed in this remorseless desert. The weather was cool at night, even cold, for which I was most thankful, or we could not haveremained so long away from water. We consulted together, and couldonly agree that unless we came across Gibson's remains by mid-day, wemust of necessity retreat, otherwise it would be at the loss of freshlives, human and equine, for as he was mounted on so excellent ananimal as the Fair Maid, on account of whose excellence I had chosenher to ride, it seemed quite evident that this noble creature hadcarried him only too well, and had been literally ridden to death, having carried her rider too far from water ever to return, even if hehad known where it lay. What actual distance she had carried him, ofcourse it was impossible to say; going so persistently in the wrongdirection, he was simply hastening on to perish. I felt more at easewalking along the track than riding. We could only go slowly, mileafter mile, rising sand-ridge after sand-ridge, until twelve o'clock, not having been able to trace him more than seven or eight miles sincemorning. We could not reach the Circus by night, for we were nearlyfifty miles from it, and in all probability we should get no waterthere when we returned. We had to abandon any further attempt. Themare had carried him God knows where, and we had to desist from ourmelancholy and unsuccessful search. Ah! who can tell his place ofrest, far in the mulga's shade? or where his drooping courser, bendinglow, all feebly foaming fell? I may here remark, that when werelinquished the search, Gibson's tracks were going in the directionof, though not straight to, the dry ridges that Jimmy and I visited inFebruary. These were now in sight, and no doubt Gibson imagined theywere the Rawlinson Range, and he probably ended his life amongst them. It was impossible for us to go there now; I had difficulty enough toget away from them when I purposely visited them. We now made astraight line for the western end of the Rawlinson, and continuedtravelling until nearly morning, and did not stop till the edge ofLake Christopher was reached. This was the fifth night from water, andthe horses were only just able to crawl, and we camped about ten milesfrom the Circus, we hoped to get water for them there. During ournight march, before reaching the lake--that is, owing to the horses wewere driving running along them, away from our line--we crossed andsaw the tracks of the two loose horses, Badger and Darkie; they weremaking too southerly ever to reach the Rawlinson. Where these twounfortunate brutes wandered to and died can never be known, for itwould cost the lives of men simply to ascertain. 

On reaching the Circus next morning, the 8th, there was only mud andslime, and we had to go so slowly on, until we reached the Gorge ofTarns very late, reaching the depot still later. I was almost moreexhausted now than when I walked into it last. Jimmy was all rightwith the little dog, and heartily glad at our return, as he thought itwas the end of our troubles. Jimmy was but young, and to be left alonein such a lonely spot, with the constant dread of hostile attacks fromthe natives, would not be pleasant for any one. Our stock of poor oldTerrible Billy was all but gone, and it was necessary to kill anotherhorse. Mr. Tietkens and Jimmy had partially erected anothersmoke-house, and to-morrow we must work at it again. The affairs ofthe dead must give place to those of the living. I could not endurethe thought of leaving Gibson's last resting-place unknown, althoughBunyan says, "Wail not for the dead, for they have now become thecompanions of the immortals. " As I have said, my mind could not resteasy without making another attempt to discover Gibson; but now thatthe Circus water was gone, it would be useless to go from here withoutsome other water between, for where we left his tracks was seventymiles away, and by the time we could get back to them it would be timeto return. In the early part of the day we got sticks and logs, anderected a portion of the smoke-house, while Jimmy got the horses. Ithen determined to go with Mr. Tietkens to where he and Gibson hadfound a rock-hole, which they said was unapproachable. I wasdetermined to see whether it could be used, so we delayed killinganother horse until our return, and in consequence we had to draw uponour small stock of flour. In the afternoon we took five more horses, intending to load them with water at the hole if possible; but I foundit utterly useless. I called the most western hill of this range MountForrest, and the most western watercourse Forrest's Creek. 

(ILLUSTRATION: JIMMY AT FORT MCKELLAR. )

When we arrived again at the fort, on Monday, I knew something hadhappened, for Jimmy was most profuse in his delight at seeing usagain. It appeared that while we were preparing to start on Saturday, a whole army of natives were hidden behind the rocks, immediatelyabove the camp, waiting and watching until we departed, and no soonerwere we well out of sight and sound, than they began an attack uponpoor Jim. According to him, it was only by the continued use of riflebullets, of which, fortunately, I had a good supply--and, goodnessknows, the ground in and around the fort was strewn with enoughdischarged cartridges--that he could keep them at bay at all. If hehad killed ten per cent, for all the cartridges he fired away, Ishould think he would have destroyed the whole tribe; but he appearedto have been too flurried to have hit many of them. They threw severalspears and great quantities of stones down from the rocks; it wasfortunate he had a palisade to get inside of. Towards night he seemsto have driven them off, and he and the little dog watched all night. It must indeed have been something terrible that would keep Jimmyawake all night. Before daylight on Sunday the natives came to attackhim again; he had probably improved in his aim by his previous day'spractice, for at length he was able to drive them away screeching andyelling, the wounded being carried in the arms of the others. Onefellow, Jimmy said, came rushing up to give him his quietus, and begandancing about the camp and pulling over all the things, when Jimmysuddenly caught up a shot gun loaded with heavy long-shot cartridges, of which I had about a dozen left for defence, and before the fellowcould get away, he received the full charge in his body. Jimmy said hebounded up in the air, held up his arms, shrieked, and screamed, butfinally ran off with all the others, and they had not troubled himsince. I gave the lad great praise for his action. He had had a mostfortunate escape from most probably a cruel death, if indeed theseanimals would not have actually eaten him. 

We finished the smoke-house this afternoon, and, having secured thenew victim we were going to slay, tied him up all night. This time itwas Tommy. I had brought him originally from Victoria, and he had beenout on my first expedition. He was now very old and very poor, twocoincidences that can only be thoroughly comprehended by theantiquated of the human race; and for my part I would rather be killedand eaten by savages, than experience such calamities at an advancedperiod of life. Tommy did not promise much oil. I shot him early, andwe got him into the smoke-house with the exception of such portions aswe kept fresh, by the afternoon. We had to boil every bone in his bodyto get sufficient oil to fry steaks with, and the only way to getone's teeth through the latter was to pound them well before cooking. I wish I had a sausage machine. The thermometer to-day only 78degrees. Had Gibson not been lost I should certainly have pushed outwest again and again. To say I was sorry to abandon such a work insuch a region, though true, may seem absurd, but it must be rememberedI was pitted, or had pitted myself, against Nature, and a second timeI was conquered. The expedition had failed in its attempt to reach thewest, but still it had done something. It would at all events leave arecord. Our stores and clothes were gone, we had nothing buthorseflesh to eat, and it is scarcely to be wondered at if neither Mr. Tietkens nor Jimmy could receive my intimation of my intention toretreat otherwise than with pleasure, though both were anxious, as Iwas, that our efforts should be successful. In our presentcircumstances, however, nothing more could be done. In vain the strongwill and the endeavour, which for ever wrestled with the tides offate. 

We set to work to shoe some of the horses. When Tommy is smoked weshall depart. He proved to have more flesh on his bones than Ianticipated, and he may last us for a month. The next few days got hotand sultry, and rain again threatened. If we could only get a goodfall, out to the west we would go again without a further thought; forif heavy rain fell we would surely find some receptacle at the Alfredand Marie Range to help us on? But no, the rain would not come. Everydrop in this singular region seems meted and counted out, yet thereare the marks of heavy floods on all the watercourses. The question ofwhen did the floods occur, which caused these marks, and when, ohwhen, will such phenomena occur again, is always recurring to me. Theclimate of this region too seems most extraordinary; for both lastnight and the night before we could all lie on our blankets withoutrequiring a rag to cover us, while a month ago it was so cold at nightthat we actually wanted fires. I never knew the nights so warm in Mayin any other parts I have visited, and I cannot determine whether thisis a peculiarity of the region, or whether the present is an unusualseason throughout this half of the continent. With the exception of afew showers which fell in January, not a drop of rain to leave waterhas fallen since I left the telegraph line. 

I cannot leave this singular spot without a few remarks on itspeculiarities and appearance, for its waters are undoubtedlypermanent, and may be useful to future travellers. In the first placeFort McKellar bears 12 degrees east of south from the highest ridge ofMount Destruction, in the Carnarvon Range; that mountain, however, ispartially hidden by the intervening low hills where Mr. Tietkens'sriding-horse Bluey died. In consequence I called it Bluey's Range. This depot is amongst a heavy clump of fine eucalypts, which are onlythick for about a quarter of a mile. From beneath this clump a finestrong spring of the purest water flows, and just opposite our fort isa little basin with a stony bottom, which we had to bridge over toreach the western bank. The grazing capabilities of the country arevery poor, and the horses only existed here since leaving the pass. Onthe 20th it was a month since Gibson and I departed for the west. Thismorning three natives came up near the camp, but as they or theirtribe had so lately attacked it, I had no very loving feelings forthem, although we had a peaceable interview. The only information Icould glean from them was that their word for travelling, or going, orcoming, was "Peterman". They pointed to Mount Destruction, andintimated that they were aware that we had "Petermaned" there, that wehad "Petermaned" both from the east and to the west. Everything withthem was "Peterman". It is singular how identical the word is in soundwith the name of the late Dr. Petermann, the geographer. In lookingover Gibson's few effects, Mr. Tietkens and I found, in an oldpocketbook, a drinking song and a certificate of his marriage: he hadnever told us anything about this. 

CHAPTER 2. 11. FROM 21ST MAY TO 20TH JULY, 1874. 

Depart for civilisation. The springs at the pass. Farewell to Sladen Water. The Schwerin Mural Crescent. The return route. Recross the boundary line. Natives and their smokes. A canine telegram. New features. The Sugar-loaf. Mount Olga once more. Ayers' Rock. Cold weather. A flat-topped hill. Abandon a horse. A desert region. A strange feature. Lake Amadeus again. A new smoke-house. Another smoked horse. The glue-pot. An invention. Friendly natives. A fair and fertile tract. The Finke. A white man. A sumptuous repast. Sale of horses and gear. The Charlotte. The Peake. In the mail. Hear of Dick's death. In Adelaide. Concluding remarks. 

On the afternoon of Thursday, 21st May, we began our retreat, andfinally left Fort McKellar, where my hopes had been as high as mydefeat was signal. On arriving at the pass we camped close to thebeautiful fresh-water springs, where both Mr. Tietkens and Gibson, hadplanted a patch of splendid soil, Gibson having done the same at FortMcKellar with all kinds of seeds; but the only thing that came up wellhere was maize. That looked splendid, and had grown nearly three feethigh. The weather was now delightful, and although in full retreat, had there been no gloom upon our feelings, had we had any good food toeat, with such fine horses as Banks, and Diaway, W. A. , Trew, Blackie, etc. To ride, and a line of well-watered country before us forhundreds of miles, we might have considered our return a pleasuretrip; but gloom covered our retreat, and we travelled along almost insilence. The pass was a place I greatly liked, and it was free fromants. There was a long line of fine eucalyptus timber and an extensivepiece of ground covered with rushes, which made it look very pretty;altogether it was a most desirable spot for an explorer's camp, and anexcellent place for the horses, as they soon got fat here. It isimpossible that I should ever forget Sladen Water or the Pass of theAbencerrages: "Methinks I am as well in this valley as I have beenanywhere else in all our journey; the place methinks suits with myspirit. I love to be in such places, where there is no rattling withcoaches, nor rumbling with wheels. Methinks here one may, without muchmolestation, be thinking what he is, and whence he came; what he hasdone, and to what the king has called him" (Bunyan). On the Queen'sbirthday we bade it a last farewell, and departed for the east andcivilisation, once more. We now had the route that Mr. Tietkens and Ihad explored in March--that is to say, passing and getting water atall the following places:--Gill's Pinnacle, the Ruined Rampart, Louisa's Creek, and the Chirnside. The country, as I have said before, was excellent and good for travelling over. The crescent-shaped andwall-like range running from the Weld Pass to Gill's Pinnacle, andbeyond it, I named the Schwerin Mural Crescent; and a pass through itI named Vladimar Pass, in honour of Prince Vladimar, son of theEmperor of Russia, married to the Princess of Schwerin. When wereached the place where we first surprised the natives hunting, inMarch, we made a more northerly detour, as our former line had beenthrough and over very rough hills, and in so doing we found on the 1stof June another splendid watering-place, where several creeks joinedand ran down through a rocky defile, or glen, to the north. There wasplenty of both rock and sand water here, and it was a very pretty andexcellent little place. I called it Winter's* Glen, and the main creekof the three in which it lies, Irving Creek. This water may easily befound by a future traveller, from its bearing from a high, long-pointed hill abruptly ending to the west, which I named MountPhillips. This is a very conspicuous mount in this region, being, likemany of the others named on this line, detached to allow watercoursesto pass northwards, and yet forming a part of the long northern wall, of which the Petermann Range is formed. This mount can be distinctlyseen from Mount Olga, although it is seventy miles away, and fromwhence it bears 4 degrees north of west. The water gorge at Winter'sGlen bears west from the highest point of Mount Phillips, and fourmiles away. We were now again in the territories of South Australia, having bid farewell to her sister state, and turned our backs uponthat peculiar province of the sun, the last of austral lands he shinesupon. We next paid a visit to Glen Robertson, of 15th March, as it wasa convenient place from which to make a straight line to theSugar-loaf. To reach it we had to make a circuitous line, under thefoot of the farthest east hill, where, it will be remembered, we hadbeen attacked during dinner-time. We reached the glen early. There wasyet another detached hill in the northern line, which is the mosteastern of the Petermann Range. I named it Mount McCulloch. It canalso easily be distinguished from Mount Olga. From Glen RobertsonMount McCulloch bore 3 degrees east of north. We rested here a day, during which several natives made their appearance and lit signalfires for others. There is a great difference between signal andhunting fires; we were perfectly acquainted with both, as my readermay imagine. One aboriginal fiend, of the Homo sapiens genus, while wewere sitting down sewing bags as usual, sneaked so close upon us, downthe rocks behind the camp, that he could easily have touched ortomahawked--if he had one--either of us, before he was discovered. Mylittle dog was sometimes too lazy to obey, when a little distance off, the command to sit, or stand up; in that case I used to send him atelegram, as I called it--that is to say, throw a little stone at him, and up he would sit immediately. This sneak of a native was having afine game with us. Cocky was lying down near Mr. Tietkens, when astone came quietly and roused him, causing him to sit up. Mr. Tietkenspatted him, and he lay down again. Immediately after another stonecame, and up sat Cocky. This aroused Mr. Tietkens's curiosity, as hedidn't hear me speak to the dog, and he said, "Did you send Cocky atelegram?" I said, "No. " "Well then, " said he, "somebody did twice:did you, Jimmy?" "No. " "Oh!" I exclaimed, "it's those blacks!" Wejumped up and looked at the low rocks behind us, where we saw abouthalf-a-dozen sidling slowly away behind them. Jimmy ran on top, butthey had all mysteriously disappeared. We kept a sharp look out afterthis, and fired a rifle off two or three times, when we heard somegroans and yells in front of us up the creek gorge. 

Having got some rock water at the Sugar-loaf or Stevenson's Peak incoming out, we went there again. On the road, at nine miles, wecrossed another large wide creek running north. I called it theArmstrong*; there was no water where we crossed it. At twenty miles Ifound another fine little glen, with a large rock-hole, and water inthe sand of the creek-bed. I called this Wyselaski's* Glen, and thecreek the Hopkins. It was a very fine and pretty spot, and the grassexcellent. On reaching the Peak or Sugar-loaf, without troubling theold rocky shelf, so difficult for horses to approach, and where therewas very little water, we found another spot, a kind of native well, half a mile west of the gorge, and over a rise. We pushed on now forMount Olga, and camped in casuarina and triodia sandhills withoutwater. The night of the 5th June was very cold and windy; my onlyremaining thermometer is not graduated below 36 degrees. The mercurywas down in the bulb this morning. Two horses straying delayed us, andit was quite late at night when Mount Olga was reached. I was verymuch pleased to see the little purling brook gurgling along its rockybed, and all the little basins full. The water, as when I last saw it, ended where the solid rock fell off. The country all around wasexcessively dry, and the grass withered, except in the channel of thecreek, where there was some a trifle green. From here I had a desireto penetrate straight east to the Finke, as a considerable distanceupon that line was yet quite unknown. One of our horses, Formby, wasunwell, and very troublesome to drive. We are nearly at the end of ourstock of Tommy, and Formby is a candidate for the smoke-house thatwill evidently be elected, though we have yet enough Tommy for anotherweek. While here, I rode round northward to inspect that side of thissingular and utterly unclimbable mountain. Our camp was at the southface, under a mound which lay up against the highest mound of thewhole. On the west side I found another running spring, with some muchlarger rock-basins than at our camp. Of course the water ceasedrunning where the rock ended. Round on the north side I found a stillstronger spring, in a larger channel. I rode completely round the massof this wonderful feature; its extraordinary appearance will never beout of my remembrance. It is no doubt of volcanic origin, belched outof the bowels, and on to the surface, of the earth, by the sulphurousupheavings of subterraneous and subaqueous fires, and cooled andsolidified into monstrous masses by the gelid currents of the deepmostwaves of the most ancient of former oceans. As I before remarked, itis composed of mixed and rounded stones, formed into rounded shapes, but some upon the eastern side are turreted, and some almost pillars, except that their thickness is rather out of proportion to theirheight. The highest point of the whole, as given before, is 1500 feetabove the ground, while it is 2800 feet above the sea-level. Could Ibe buried at Mount Olga, I should certainly borrow Sir ChristopherWren's epitaph, Circumspice si monumentum requiris. To the eastwardfrom here, as mentioned in my first expedition, and not very far off, lay another strange and singular-looking mound, similar perhaps tothis. Beyond that, and still further to the east, and a very long wayoff, was another mount or hill or range, but very indistinct fromdistance. 

On the 9th we went away to the near bare-looking mountain to the east;it was twenty miles. We found a very fine deep pool of water lying insand under the abrupt and rocky face of the mount upon its southernside. There was also a fine, deep, shady, and roomy cave here, ornamented in the usual aboriginal fashion. There were two marks uponthe walls, three or four feet long, in parallel lines with spotsbetween them. 

Mr. Gosse had been here from the Gill's Range of my former expedition, and must have crossed the extremity of Lake Amadeus. He named thisAyers' Rock. Its appearance and outline is most imposing, for it issimply a mammoth monolith that rises out of the sandy desert soilaround, and stands with a perpendicular and totally inaccessible faceat all points, except one slope near the north-west end, and that atleast is but a precarious climbing ground to a height of more than1100 feet. Down its furrowed and corrugated sides the trickling ofwater for untold ages has descended in times of rain, and for longperiods after, until the drainage ceased, into sandy basins at itsfeet. The dimensions of this vast slab are over two miles long, overone mile through, and nearly a quarter of a mile high. The greatdifference between it and Mount Olga is in the rock formation, forthis is one solid granite stone, and is part and parcel of theoriginal rock, which, having been formed after its state of fusion inthe beginning, has there remained, while the aged Mount Olga has beenthrown up subsequently from below. Mount Olga is the more wonderfuland grotesque; Mount Ayers the more ancient and sublime. There ispermanent water here, but, unlike the Mount Olga springs, it lies allin standing pools. There is excellent grazing ground around this rock, though now the grass is very dry. It might almost be said of this, asof the Pyramids or the Sphinx, round the decay of that colossal rock, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away. Thiscertainly was a fine place for a camp. The water was icy cold; aplunge into its sunless deeps was a frigid tonic that, further west inthe summer heats, would have been almost paradisiacal, while now itwas almost a penalty. The hill or range further east seems fartheraway now than it did from Mount Olga. It is flat on the summit, and nodoubt is the same high and flat-topped mount I saw from the Sentinelin August last. We are encamped in the roomy cave, for we find it muchwarmer than in the outer atmosphere, warmth being as great aconsideration now, as shade had formerly been. 

We started for the flat-topped hill on the 11th of June. The countrywas all extremely heavy sandhills, with casuarina and triodia; we hadto encamp among them at twenty-three miles, without water. The nextmorning Formby knocked up, and lay down, and we had to leave him inthe scrub. To-day we got over thirty miles, the hill being yet sevenor eight miles off. It looks most repulsive, so far as any likelihoodsof obtaining water is concerned. The region was a perfect desert, worse for travelling, indeed, than Gibson's Desert itself. LeavingJimmy with the horses, Mr. Tietkens and I rode over to the mount, andreached it in seven miles. At a mile and a half from it we came to anouter escarpment of rocks; but between that and the mount moresandhills and thick scrub exist. We rode all round this strangefeature; it was many hundreds of feet high, and for half its heightits sides sloped; the crown rested upon a perpendicular wall. It wasalmost circular, and perfectly flat upon the top, apparently havingthe same kind of vegetation and timber upon its summit as that uponthe ground below. I don't know that it is accessible; it seemed not; Isaw no place, and did not attempt to ascend it. 

To the north, and about fifteen miles away, the not yet ended AmadeusLake was visible. To the east timbered ridges bounded the view. Therewere a few dry clay-pans here, but no water. We were sixty miles fromthe rock, and to all appearance we might have to go sixty, or ahundred, or more miles before we should reach water. The only water Iknew on this line of latitude was at the Finke itself, nearly 200miles away. 

We must return to our Rock of Ages, for we must smoke another horse, and we have no water to push any farther here. We returned to Jimmyand the horses, and pushed back for the rock as fast as we could. Whenwe reached the spot where we had left Formby he had wandered away. Wewent some distance on his tracks, but could not delay for a furthersearch. No doubt he had lain down and died not far off. I was sorrynow I had not smoked him before we started, though he was scarcely fiteven for explorers' food. We got back to the rock on the 15th, verylate at night, hungry and thirsty. The next day we worked at a newsmoke-house, and had to shift the camp to it, so as to be near, tokeep a perpetual cloud rising, till the meat is safe. The smoke-houseis formed of four main stakes stuck into the ground and coming nearlytogether at the top, with cross sticks all the way down, and coveredover with tarpaulins, so that no smoke can escape except through thetop. The meat is cut into thin strips, and becomes perfectly permeatedwith smoke. So soon as all was ready, down went poor Hollow Back. Hewas in what is called good working condition, but he had not a vestigeof fat about him. The only adipose matter we could obtain from him wasby boiling his bones, and the small quantity of oil thus obtainedwould only fry a few meals of steaks. When that was done we had to fryor parboil them in water. Our favourite method of cooking thehorseflesh after the fresh meat was eaten, was by first boiling andthen pounding with the axe, tomahawk head, and shoeing hammer, thencutting it into small pieces, wetting the mass, and binding it with apannikin of flour, putting it into the coals in the frying-pan, andcovering the whole with hot ashes. But the flour would not last, andthose delicious horse-dampers, though now but things of the past, wereby no means relegated to the limbo of forgotten things. The boiled-upbones, hoofs, shanks, skull, etc. , of each horse, though they failedto produce a sufficient quantity of oil to please us, yet in the coolof the night resolved themselves into a consistent jelly that stanklike rotten glue, and at breakfast at least, when this disgustingstuff was in a measure coagulated, we would request one another withthe greatest politeness to pass the glue-pot. Had it not been that Iwas an inventor of transcendent genius, even this last luxury wouldhave been debarred us. We had been absent from civilisation, so long, that our tin billies, the only boiling utensils we had, got completelyworn or burnt out at the bottoms, and as the boilings for glue and oilmust still go on, what were we to do with billies with no bottoms?Although as an inventor I can allow no one to depreciate my genius, Iwill admit there was but one thing that could be done, and those muffsTietkens and Jimmy actually advised me to do what I had invented, which was simply--all great inventions are simple--to cover thebottoms with canvas, and embed the billies half-way up their sides incold ashes, and boil from the top instead of the bottom, which ofcourse we did, and these were our glue- and flesh-pots. The tongue, brains, kidneys, and other titbits of course were eaten first. 

On the 19th some natives began to yell near the camp, but three onlymade their appearance. They were not only the least offensive and mostcivil we had met on any of our travels, but they were almost endearingin their welcome to us. We gave them some of the bones and odd piecesof horse-meat, which seemed to give them great satisfaction, and theyate some pieces raw. They were in undress uniform, and "free as Naturefirst made man, ere the vile laws of servitude began, when, wild inthe woods, the noble savage ran. " They were rather good, thoughextremely wild-looking young men. One of them had splendid long blackcurls waving in the wind, hanging down nearly to his middle; the othertwo had chignons. They remained with us only about three hours. Theday was windy, sand-dusty, and disagreeable. One blast of wind blew mylast thermometer, which was hanging on a sapling, so violently to theground that it broke. 

Mr. Tietkens had been using a small pair of bright steel plyers. Whenthe endearing natives were gone it was discovered that the plyers haddeparted also; it was only Christian charity to hope that they had NOTgone together. It was evident that Mr. Gosse must have crossed aneastern part of Lake Amadeus to get here from Gill's Range, and as hehad a wagon, I thought I would be so far beholden to him as to makeuse of his crossing-place. 

We left the Rock on the 23rd, but only going four miles for a start, we let the horses go back without hobbles to feed for the night. Wherethe lake was crossed Mr. Gosse had laid down a broad streak of bushesand boughs, and we crossed without much difficulty, the crossing-placebeing very narrow. Leaving the dray track at the lower end of King'sCreek of my former journey, we struck across for Penny's Creek, fourmiles east of it, where the splendid rocky reservoir is, and wherethere was delicious herbage for the horses. We had now a fair andfertile tract to the River Finke, discovered by me previously, gettingwater and grass at Stokes's, Bagot's, Trickett's, and Petermann'sCreeks; fish and water at Middleton's and Rogers's Pass and Ponds. Thence down the Palmer by Briscoe's Pass, and on to the junction ofthe Finke, where there is a fine large water-hole at the junction. 

On the 10th of July travelling down the Finke near a place calledCrown Point on the telegraph line, we saw a white man riding towardsus. He proved to be a Mr. Alfred Frost, the owner of several finehorse-teams and a contractor to supply loading for the Government toseveral telegraph stations farther up the line. I had known himbefore; he was most kind. He was going ahead to select a camp for hislarge party, but upon our telling him of our having nothing buthorse-flesh, he immediately returned with us, and we met the advancingteams. He called a halt, ordered the horses to be unyoked, and we weresoon laughing and shaking hands with new-found friends. Food was thefirst order Mr. Frost gave, and while some were unyoking the horses, some were boiling the tea-billies, while old Frost was extracting aquart of rum for us from a hogshead. But we did not indulge in morethan a sip or two, as bread and meat was what we cared for most. Inten minutes the tea was ready; some splendid fat corned beef, andmustard, and well-cooked damper were put before us, and oh, didn't weeat! Then pots of jams and tins of butter were put on our plateswhole, and were scooped up with spoons, till human organisms could dono more. We were actually full--full to repletion. Then we had somegrog. Next we had a sleep, and then at sundown another exquisite meal. It made our new friends shudder to look at our remaining stock ofHollow Back, when we emptied it out on a tarpaulin and told them thatwas what we had been living on. However, I made them a present of itfor their dogs. Most of the teamsters knew Gibson, and expressed theirsorrow at his mishap; some of them also knew he was married. 

The natives up the line had been very aggressive at the telegraphstations, while we were absent, and all our firearms, etc. , wereeagerly purchased, also several horses and gear. Mr. Frost fell inlove with Banks at a glance, and, though I tried not to part with thehorse, he was so anxious to buy him that I could not well refuse, although I had intended to keep him and West Australian. Trew, one ofthe best horses, had been staked early in the journey and his foot wasblemished, otherwise he was a splendid horse. All the best horses werewanted--Diaway, Blackie, etc. , but I kept W. A. , Widge, and one or twomore of the best, as we still had several hundreds of miles to go. 

When we parted from our friends we only had a few horses left. Wereached the Charlotte Waters about twelve o'clock on July 13th, havingbeen nearly a year absent from civilisation. Our welcome here by myfriend and namesake, Mr. Christopher Giles, was of the warmest, and heclothed and fed us like a young father. He had also recovered and keptmy old horse Cocky. The whole of the establishment there, testifiedtheir pleasure at our return. On our arrival at the Peake ourreception by Mr. And Mrs. Blood at the telegraph station was mostgratifying. Mr. John Bagot also supplied us with many necessaries athis cattle-station. The mail contractor had a light buggy here, and Iobtained a seat and was driven by him as far as the Blinman CopperMine, via Beltana, where I heard that my black boy Dick had died ofinfluenza at a camp of the semi-civilised natives near a hill calledby Eyre, Mount Northwest. From the Blinman I took the regular mailcoach and train nearly 300 miles to Adelaide. Mr. Tietkens and Jimmycame behind and sold the remaining horses at the Blinman, where theyalso took the coach and joined me in Adelaide a week later. 

I have now but a few concluding remarks to make; for my secondexpedition is at an end, and those of my readers who have followed mywanderings are perhaps as glad to arrive at the end as I was. I maytruly say that for nearly twelve months I had been the well-wroughtslave not only of the sextant, the compass, and the pen, but of theshovel, the axe, and the needle also. There had been a continualstrain on brain and muscle. The leader of such an expedition as thiscould not stand by and simply give orders for certain work to beperformed; he must join in it, and with the good example of heart andhand assist and cheer those with whom he was associated. To my friendand second, Mr. Tietkens, I was under great obligations, for I foundhim, as my readers will have seen, always ready and ever willing forthe most arduous and disagreeable of our many undertakings. Myexpedition had been unsuccessful in its main object, and my mostsanguine hopes had been destroyed. I knew at starting a great deal wasexpected from me, and if I had not fulfilled the hopes of my friends, I could only console them by the fact that I could not even fulfil myown. But if it is conceded that I had done my devoir as an Australianexplorer, then I am satisfied. Nothing succeeds like success, but itis not in the power of man--however he may deserve--to command it. Many trials and many bitter hours must the explorer of such a regionexperience. The life of a man is to be held at no more than a moment'spurchase. The slightest accident or want of judgment may instantlybecome the cause of death while engaged in such an enterprise, and itmay be truly said we passed through a baptism worse indeed than thatof fire--the baptism of no water. That I should ever again take thefield is more than I would undertake to say:--

 "Yet the charmed spell Which summons man to high discovery, Is ever vocal in the outward world; But those alone may hear it who have hearts, Responsive to its tone. "

I may add that I had discovered a line of waters to Sladen Water andFort McKellar, and that at a distance of 150 miles from there lies theAlfred and Marie Range. At what price that range was sighted I neednot now repeat. It is highly probable that water exists there also. 

It was, however, evident to me that it is only with camels there ismuch likelihood of a successful and permanently valuable issue in caseof any future attempt. There was only one gentleman in the whole ofAustralia who could supply the means of its accomplishment; and to himthe country at large must in future be, as it is at present, indebtedfor ultimate discoveries. Of course that gentleman was the HonourableSir Thomas Elder. To my kind friend Baron Mueller I am greatlyindebted, and I trust, though unsuccessful, I bring no discredit uponhim for his exertions on my behalf. 

The map and journal of my expedition, as per agreement, was handedover to the South Australian Government, and printed as ParliamentaryPapers; some few anecdotes of things that occurred have since beenadded. It was not to be supposed that in a civilised community, andamongst educated people, that such a record should pass unnoticed. Ireceived many compliments from men of standing. The truest, perhaps, was from a gentleman who patted me on the back and said, "Ah, Ernest, my boy, you should never have come back; you should have sent yourjournal home by Tietkens and died out there yourself. " His ExcellencySir George Bowen, the Governor of Victoria, was very kind, and notonly expressed approval of my exertions, but wrote favourabledespatches on my behalf to the Colonial Office. (This was also thecase subsequently with Sir William Robinson, K. C. M. G. , the Governor ofWestern Australia, after my arrival at Perth. ) Sir Graham Berry, thepresent Agent-General for the Colony of Victoria, when Premier, showedhis good opinion by doing me the good turn of a temporary appointment, for which I shall ever feel grateful. 

What was generally thought of my work was the cause of subsequentexplorations, as Sir Thomas Elder, the only camel-owner in Australia, to whom, through Baron von Mueller, I was now introduced, desired meto take the field again; and it was soon arranged that he would equipme with camels, and send me in command of a thoroughly efficientexploring expedition. Upon this occasion I was to traverse, as near aspossible, the country lying under the 29th parallel of latitude, and Iwas to force my way through the southern interior to the City of Perthin Western Australia, by a new and unknown route. But, previous tobeginning the new expedition, Sir Thomas desired me to execute acommission for a gentleman in England, of a squatting nature, in theneighbourhood of Fowler's Bay, of Flinders, on the western coast ofSouth Australia, and near the head of the Great Australian Bight. Thiswork was done entirely with horses, though I had two camels, or ratherdromedaries--a bull and a cow, which had a young calf. There was nopack-saddle for the bull, and the cow being very poor, I had not yetmade use of them. After I had completed my surveys near Fowler's Bay, and visited the remote locality of Eucla Harbour, discovered byFlinders and mentioned by Eyre in his travels in 1841, at the boundaryof the two colonies of South, and Western Australia, I had to proceedto Sir Thomas Elder's cattle and sheep station, and camel depot, atBeltana, to fit out for the new expedition for Perth. Beltana stationlies about 300 miles nearly north from the city of Adelaide, whileFowler's Bay lies 450 miles about west-north-west from that city; andthough Beltana is only 370 or 380 miles in a straight line across thecountry from Fowler's Bay, yet the intervening country being mostlyunknown, and the great salt depression of Lake Torrens lying in theway, I had to travel 700 miles to reach it. As this was my firstattempt with camels, I shall now give an account of my journey therewith them and three horses. This undertaking was my third expedition, and will be detailed in the following book. 

BOOK 3. 

CHAPTER 3. 1. FROM 13TH MARCH TO 1ST APRIL, 1875. 

Leave Fowlers Bay. Camels and horses. A great plain. A black romance. An oasis. Youldeh. Old Jimmy. Cockata blacks. In concealment. Flies, ants, and heat. A line of waters to the east. Leave depot. The camels. Slow progress. Lose a horse loaded with water. Tinkle of a bell. Chimpering. Heavy sand-dunes. Astray in the wilds. Pylebung. A native dam. Inhuman mutilations. Mowling and Whitegin. The scrubs. Wynbring. A conspicuous mountain. A native family. March flies. 

While at Fowler's Bay I had heard of a native watering-place calledYouldeh, that was known to one or two white people, and I found thatit lay about 130 miles inland, in a north-north-westerly direction; myobject now being to push across to Beltana to the eastwards andendeavour to find a good travelling route by which I could bring myprojected large camel expedition back to the water at Youldeh, as astarting depot for the west. 

Leaving the bay on Saturday, the 13th of March, 1875, I had a strongparty with me as far as Youldeh. My second in command, Mr. Roberts, Mr. Thomas Richards, police trooper--who, having previously visitedYouldeh, was going to show me its whereabouts--and Mr. George Murray;I had with me also another white man, Peter Nicholls, who was my cook, one old black fellow and two young ones. The old man and one youngfellow went on, one day in advance and led the two camels, the calfrunning loose. We all rode horses, and had several pack-horses tocarry our provisions and camp necessaries. The weather was exceedinglyhot, although the previous summer months had been reasonably cool, theheat having been tempered by southerly sea breezes. Nature now seemedto intend to concentrate all the usual heat of an Australian summerinto the two remaining months that were left to her. The thermometerusually stood for several hours of each day at 104, 105, and 106degrees in the shade. 

After leaving Colona, an out sheep station belonging to Fowler's Bay, lying some thirty-five miles north-west from it, and where Mr. Murrayresided, we traversed a country alternating between belts of scrub andgrassy flats or small plains, until at twenty miles from Colona wereached the edge of a plain that stretched away to the north, and wasevidently of a very great extent. The soil was loose and yielding, andof a very poor quality. Although this plain was covered withvegetation, there was no grass whatever upon it; but a growth of akind of broom, two to three feet high, waving in the heated breezes asfar as the eye could reach, which gave it a billowy and extraordinaryappearance. The botanical name of this plant is Eremophila scoparia. 

At fifty miles from Colona and eighty-five from the bay, we reached asalt lagoon, which, though several miles long, and perhaps a milewide, Mr. Murray's black boy informed us was the footmark or track ofa monstrous animal or snake, that used to haunt the neighbourhood ofthis big plain, and that it had been driven by the Cockata blacks outof the mountains to the north, the Musgrave Ranges of my lastexpedition, and which are over 400 miles from the bay. He added thatthe creature had crawled down to the coast, and now lived in the sea. So here was reliable authority for the existence of a sea serpent. Wehad often heard tales from the blacks, when sitting round our campfires at night, about this wonderful animal, and whenever any nativespoke about it, it was always in a mysterious undertone. What the nameof this monster was, I cannot now remember; but there were syllablesenough in it to make a word as long as the lagoon itself. The talesthat were told of it, the number of natives it had devoured, how suchand such a black fellow's father had encountered and speared it, andhow it had occasionally created floods all over the country when itwas angry, would have made an excellent novel, which might be producedunder the title of a "Black Romance. " When we laughed at, or jokedthis young black fellow who now accompanied us, on the absurdity ofhis notions, he became very serious, for to him and hisco-religionists it was no laughing matter. Another thing was ratherstrange, and that was, how these coast natives should know there wereany mountains to the north of them. I knew it, because I had beenthere and found them; but that they should know it was curious, forthey have no intercourse with the tribes of natives in the country tothe north of them; indeed it required a good deal of persuasion toinduce the young blacks who accompanied us to go out to Youldeh; andif it had not been that an old man called Jimmy had been induced byMr. Richards to go with the camels in advance, I am quite sure theyoung ones would not have gone at all. 

After crossing the salt lagoon or animals' track, and going five milesfarther, about north-north-east, we arrived at some granite rocksamongst some low hills, which rose up out of the plain, where somerock water-holes existed, and here we found the two blacks that hadpreceded us, encamped with the camels. This pretty little place wascalled Pidinga; the eye was charmed with flowering shrubs about therocks, and green grass. As the day was very hot, we erected tarpaulinswith sticks, this being the only shade to sit under. There were a fewhundred acres of good country round the rocks; the supply of water waslimited to perhaps a couple of thousand gallons. From Pidinga ourroute to Youldeh lay about north-north-west, distant thirty-threemiles. For about twenty-five miles we traversed an entirely openplain, similar to that just described, and mostly covered with thewaving broom bushes; but now upon our right hand, to the north, andstretching also to the west, was a dark line of higher ground formedof sandhills and fringed with low scrub, and timber of various kinds, such as cypress pines (callitris), black oak (casuarinas) stuntedmallee (eucalyptus), and a kind of acacia called myal. This newfeature, of higher ground, formed the edge of the plain, and is thesouthern bank of a vast bed of sandhill country that lies between usand the Musgrave Ranges nearly 300 miles to the north. 

Having reached the northern edge of the plain we had been traversing, we now entered the bed of sandhills and scrub which lay before us, and, following the tracks of the two black fellows with the camels, asthere was no road to Youldeh, we came in five miles to a spot where, without the slightest indication to point out such a thing, exceptthat we descended into lower ground, there existed a shallow nativewell in the sandy ground of a small hollow between the red sandhills, and this spot the blacks said was Youldeh. The whole region wasglowing with intense heat, and the sand was so hot, that neither thecamels nor the horses could endure to remain standing in the sun, butso soon as they were unpacked and unsaddled, sought the shade of thelarge and numerous leguminous bushes which grew all round the place. As there were five whites and four blacks, we had plenty of hands toset about the different tasks which had to be performed. In the firstplace we had to dig out the old well; this some volunteered to do, while others erected an awning with tarpaulins, got firewood, andotherwise turned the wild and bushy spot into a locality suitable fora white man's encampment. Water was easily procurable at a depth ofbetween three and four feet, and all the animals drank as much as theydesired, being watered with canvas buckets; the camels appeared asthough they never would be satisfied. 

It was only their parching thirst that induced the horses to remainanywhere near the camels, and immediately they got sufficient water, they de-camped, though short-hobbled, at a gallop over the high redsandhills from whence we had come; my riding-horse, Chester, the worstof the mob, went nearly mad at the approach of the camels. There wasnot a sign of a blade of grass, or anything else that horses couldeat, except a few yellow immortelles of a large coarse description, and these they did not care very much for. The camels, on thecontrary, could take large and evidently agreeable mouthfuls of theleaves of the great bushes of the Leguminosae, which abounded. Theconduct of the two kinds of animals was so distinctly different as toarouse the curiosity of all of us; the camels fed in peaceful contentin the shade of the bushes from which they ate, and never went out ofsight, seeming to take great interest in all we did, and evidentlythoroughly enjoying themselves, while the horses were plunging aboutin hobbles over the sandhills, snorting and fretting with fright andexertion, and neither having or apparently desiring to get anything toeat. Their sole desire was to get away as far as possible from thecamels. The supply of water here seemed to be unlimited, but the sandysides of the well kept falling in; therefore we got some stakes ofmallee, and saplings of the native poplar (Codonocarpus cotinifolius, of the order of Phytolacceae), and thoroughly slabbed it, at leastsufficiently for our time. This place, as I said before, wasexceedingly hot, lying at the bottom of a hollow amongst thesandhills, and all we could see from the tops of any of those near uswas a mass of higher, darker, and more forbidding undulations of asimilar kind. These undulations existed to the east, north, and west, while to the south we could but dimly see the mirage upon the plain wehad recently traversed. The water here was fresh and sweet, and if thetemperature had not been quite so hot, we might have enjoyed ourencampment here; but there was no air, and we seemed to be at thebottom of a funnel. The old black fellow, Jimmy, whom Mr. Richards hadobtained as a guide to show me some waters in the country to theeastwards, informed us, through the interpretation of Mr. Murray, thathe knew of only one water in any direction towards the west, and thishe said was a small rock water-hole called Paring. 

The following day Mr. Murray and I rode there with old Jimmy, andfound it to be a wretched little hole, lying nearly west-north-westabout fourteen miles away; it contained only a few gallons of water, which was almost putrid from the number of dead and decaying birds, rats, lizards, rotten leaves, and sticks that were in it; had it beenfull it would have been of no earthly use to me. Old Jimmy was notaccustomed to riding, and got out of his latitude once or twice beforewe reached the place. He was, however, proud of finding himself in thenovel position, albeit rather late in life, of riding upon horseback, and if I remember rightly did not tumble off more than three or fourtimes during the whole day. Jimmy was a very agreeable old gentleman;I could not keep up a conversation with him, as I knew so few words ofhis language, and he knew only about twenty of mine. It was evident hewas a man of superior abilities to most of his race, and he lookedlike a thoroughbred, and had always been known to Mr. Richards as aproud and honourable old fellow. He was, moreover, the father of alarge family, namely five, which is probably an unprecedented numberamongst the aboriginal tribes of this part of Australia, all of whomhe had left behind, as well as his wife, to oblige me; and many a timehe regretted this before he saw them again, and after; not from anyunkindness on my part, for my readers will see we were the best offriends the whole time we were together. On this little excursion itwas very amusing to watch old Jimmy on horseback, and to notice thelook of blank amazement on his face when he found himself at faultamongst the sandhills; the way he excused himself for not goingstraight to this little spot was also very ingenuous. In the firstplace he said, "Not mine young fellow now; not mine like em pony"--thename for all horses at Fowler's Bay--"not mine see 'em Paring longtime, only when I am boy. " Whereby he intended to imply that someallowance must be made for his not going perfectly straight to theplace. However, we got there all right, although I found it to beuseless. When asked concerning the country to the north, he declaredit was Cockata; the country to the west was also Cockata, the dreadedname of Cockata appearing to carry a nameless undefined horror withit. The term of Cockata blacks is applied by the Fowler's Bay nativesto all other tribes of aboriginals in the country inland from thecoast, and it seems, although when Fowler's Bay country was firstsettled by the whites these natives attacked and killed several of theinvaders, they always lived in terror of their enemies to the north, and any atrocity that was committed by themselves, either cannibalism, theft, or murder, was always put down to the account of the Cockatas. Occasionally a mob of these wilder aboriginals would make a descentupon the quieter coast-blacks, and after a fight would carry off womenand other spoils, such as opossum rugs, spears, shields, coolamins--vessels of wood or bark, like small canoes, for carryingwater--and they usually killed several of the men of the conqueredrace. After remaining at this Paring for about an hour, we remountedour horses and returned to the camp at Youldeh. The party remainedthere for a few days, hoping for a change in the weather, as the heatwas now very great and the country in the neighbourhood of the mostforbidding and formidable nature to penetrate. It consisted of veryhigh and scrubby red sandhills, and it was altogether so unpleasing alocality that I abandoned the idea of pushing to the north, todiscover whether any other waters could be found in that direction, for the present, and postponed the attempt until I should return tothis depot en route for Perth, with the whole of my newexpedition--deciding to make my way now to the eastwards in order toreach Beltana by a route previously untravelled. 

Upon the morning after my return from Paring, all the horses wereaway--indeed, as I have said before, there was nothing for them to eatat this place, and they always rambled as far as they could possiblygo from the camp to get away from the camels, although those moresensible animals were, so to say, in clover. We had three young blackfellows and old Jimmy, and it was the young ones' duty to look afterand get the horses, while old Jimmy had the easier employment oftaking care of the camels. This morning, two of the young blacks weresent out very early for the horses, whilst the other and old Jimmyremained to do anything that might be required at the camp. Themorning was hot and oppressive, we sat as comfortably as we could inthe shade of our awning; by twelve o'clock no signs of black boys orhorses had made their appearance. At one o'clock we had dinner, andgave old Jimmy and his mate theirs. I noticed that the younger blackleft the camp with a bit of a bundle under his shirt and a canvaswater-bag; I and some of the others watched whither he went, and toour surprise we found that he was taking food and water to the othertwo boys, who should have been away after the horses, but were quietlyencamped under a big bush within a quarter of a mile of us and hadnever been after the horses at all. Of course we were very indignant, and were going to punish them with a good thrashing, when one of theminformed us that it was no use our hammering them, for they could notgo for the horses because they were too much afraid of the Cockatablacks, and unless we sent old Jimmy or a white man they would not goout of sight of the camp. This showed the state of superstition andfear in which these people live. Indeed, I believe if the wholeFowler's Bay tribes were all encamped together in one mob round theirown fires, in their own country, and any one ran into the camp andshouted "Cockata, " it would cause a stampede among them immediately. It was very annoying to think that the horses had got so many hours'start away from the camp, and the only thing I could do was to send awhite man, and Jimmy, with these boys to find the absent animals. Mr. Roberts volunteered, and had to camp away from water, not returninguntil late the following day, with only about a third of the mob. Thenext day all were found but three--one was a police horse of Mr. Richards's, which was never seen after, and two colts of mine whichfound their way back to, and were eventually recovered at, Fowler'sBay by Mr. Roberts. While encamped here we found Youldeh to be afearful place, the ants, flies, and heat being each intolerable. Wewere at the bottom of a sandy funnel, into which the fiery beams ofthe sun were poured in burning rays, and the radiation of heat fromthe sandy country around made it all the hotter. Not a breath of aircould be had as we lay or sat panting in the shade we had erected withour tarpaulins. There was no view for more than a hundred yardsanywhere, unless one climbed to the top of a sandhill, and then othersandhills all round only were to be seen. The position of this place Ifound to be in latitude 30 degrees 24' 10" and approximate longitude131 degrees 46'. On the 23rd of March Mr. Murray, Jimmy, and I, wentto the top of a sandhill overlooking the camp and had a longconfabulation with Jimmy--at least Mr. Murray had, and he interpretedthe old fellow's remarks to me. It appeared that he knew the country, and some watering-places in it, for some distance to the eastward, andon making a kind of map on the sand, he put down several marks, whichhe called by the following names, namely, Chimpering, Pylebung, Mowling, Whitegin, and Wynbring; of these he said Pylebung andWynbring were the best waters. By his account they all lay due eastfrom hence, and they appeared to be the most wonderful places in theworld. He said he had not visited any of these places since he was alittle boy with his mother, and it appeared his mother was a widow andthat these places belonged to her country, but that she hadsubsequently become the wife of a Fowler's Bay native, who had takenher and her little Jimmy away out of that part of the country, therefore he had not been there since. He said that Pylebung was awater that stood up high, and that Cockata black fellows had made itwith wooden shovels. This account certainly excited my curiosity, as Ihad never seen anything which could approximate to Jimmy'sdescription; he also said it was mucka pickaninny, only big one, whichmeant that it was by no means a small water. Chimpering and Whitegin, he said, were rock-holes, but Wynbring, the farthest water he knew, according to his account was something astounding. He said it was amountain, a waterhole, a lake, a spring, and a well, all in one, andthat it was distant about six sleeps from Youldeh; this, according toour rendering, as Jimmy declared also that it was mucka close up, onlylong way, we considered to be about 120 miles. Beyond Wynbring Jimmyknew nothing whatever of the country, and I think he had a latent ideain his mind that there really was nothing beyond it. The result of ourinterview was, that I determined to send all the party back toFowler's Bay, except one white man and old Jimmy, also all the horsesexcept three, and to start with this small party and the camels to theeastward on the following day. I selected Peter Nicholls to accompanyme. I found the boiling-point of water at the camp was 211 degreesmaking its altitude above the sea 509 feet. The sandhills were about100 feet high on the average. 

The two camels and the calf, were sent to me by Sir Thomas Elder, fromAdelaide, while I was at Fowler's Bay, by an Afghan named SalehMahomet, who returned to, and met me at, Beltana, by the ordinary wayof travellers. There was only a riding-saddle for the cow, the bullhaving come bare-backed; I therefore had to invent a pack- orbaggage-saddle for him, and I venture to assert that 999, 999 peopleout of every million would rather be excused the task. In this work Iwas ably seconded by Mr. Richards, who did most of the sewing andpad-making, but Mr. Armstrong, one of the owners and manager of theFowler's Bay Station, though he supplied me in profusion with everyother requisite, would not let me have the size of iron I wished, andI had to take what I could get, he thinking it the right size; andunfortunately that which I got for the saddle-trees was not stoutenough, and, although in other respects the saddle was a brilliantsuccess, though made upon a totally different principle from that ofan Afghan's saddle, when the animal was loaded, the weakness of theiron made it continually widen, and in consequence the iron presseddown on the much-enduring creature's body and hurt him severely. 

We frequently had to stop, take his load and saddle off and bend theiron closer together again, so as to preserve some semblance of anarch or rather two arches over his back, one before and one behind hishump. Every time Nicholls and I went through this operation we wereafraid the iron would give, and snap in half with our pressure, and soit would have done but that the fiery rays of the sun kept it almostat a glowing heat. This and the nose ropes and buttons getting sooften broken, together with making new buttons from pieces of stick, caused us many harassing delays. 

On the 24th of March, 1875, we bade good-bye to the friends that hadaccompanied us to this place, and who all started to return to the baythe same day. With Peter Nicholls, old Jimmy as guide, the two camelsand calf, and three horses, I turned my back upon the Youldeh camp, somewhat late in the day. Nicholls rode the old cow, Jimmy and Iriding a horse each, the third horse carrying a load of water. Two ofthese horses were the pick of the whole mob I had; they were stillterribly frightened at the camels, and it was almost impossible to sitmy horse Chester when the camels came near him behind; the horsecarrying the water followed the two riding-horses, but towards dusk hegot frightened and bolted away into the scrubs, load of water and all. We had only come seven miles that afternoon, and it was our firstpractical acquaintance with camels; Jimmy and I had continually towait till Nicholls and the camels, made their appearance, and wheneverNicholls came up he was in a fearful rage with them. The old cow thathe was riding would scarcely budge for him at all. If he beat her shewould lie down, yell, squall, spit, and roll over on her saddle, andbehave in such a manner that, neither of us knowing anything aboutcamels, we thought she was going to die. The sandhills wereoppressively steep, and the old wretch perspired to such a degree, andaltogether became such an unmanageable nuisance, that I began to thinkcamels could not be half the wonderful animals I had fondly imagined. 

The bull, Mustara, behaved much better. He was a most affectionatecreature, and would kiss people all day long; but the Lord help anyone who would try to kiss the old cow, for she would cover them allover with--well, we will call it spittle, but it is worse than that. The calf would kiss also when caught, but did not care to be caughttoo often. Mustara had a good heavy load--he followed the cow withoutbeing fastened; the calf, with great cunning, not relishing the ideaof leaving Youldeh, would persistently stay behind and try and inducehis mother not to go on; in this he partially succeeded, for by dusk, just as I found I had lost the pack-horse with the water, and waswaiting till Nicholls, who was following our horse tracks, came up tous, we had travelled at no better speed than a mile an hour since weleft the camp. The two remaining horses were so restless that I wascompelled to stand and hold them while waiting, old Jimmy being awayin the darkness to endeavour to find the missing one. By the timeNicholls arrived with the camels, guided now by the glare of a largefire of a Mus conditor's nest which old Jimmy ignited, the horse hadbeen gone about two hours; thus our first night's bivouac was not apleasant one. There was nothing that the horses would eat, and if theyhad been let go, even in hobbles, in all probability we should neverhave seen them again. Old Jimmy returned after a fruitless search forthe absent horse. The camels would not feed, but lay down in a sulkyfit, the two horses continually snorting and endeavouring to breakaway; and thus the night was passing away, when we heard the tinkle ofa bell--the horse we had lost having a bell on his neck--and Jimmy andNicholls went away through the darkness and scrubs in the direction itproceeded from. I kept up a large fire to guide them, not that oldJimmy required such artificial aid, but to save time; in about an hourthey returned with the missing horse. When this animal took it intohis head to bolt off he was out of earshot in no time, but it seems hemust have thought better of his proceedings, and returned of his ownaccord to where he had left his mates. We were glad enough to securehim again, and the water he carried. 

The next morning we were under weigh very early, and, following theold guide Jimmy, we went in a south-east direction towards the firstwatering place that he knew, and which he said was called Chimpering. Many times before we reached this place the old fellow seemed veryuncertain of his whereabouts, but by dodging about amongst thesandhills--the country being all rolling hummocks of red sand coveredwith dense scrubs and the universal spinifex--he managed to drop downupon it, after we had travelled about thirty miles from Youldeh. Chimpering consisted of a small acacia, or as we say a mulga, hollow, the mulga being the Acacia aneura; here a few bare red granite rockswere exposed to view. In a crevice between two of these Jimmy showedus a small orifice, which we found, upon baling out, to contain onlythree buckets of a filthy black fluid that old Jimmy declared waswater. We annoyed him fearfully by pretending we did not know what itwas. Poor old chap, he couldn't explain how angry he was, but hemanaged to stammer out, "White fellow--fool; pony drink 'em. " The daywas excessively hot, the thermometer stood at 106 degrees in theshade. The horses or ponies, as universally called at Fowler's Bay, drank the dirty water with avidity. It was early in the day when wearrived, and so soon as the water was taken, we pushed on towards thenext place, Pylebung. At Youldeh our guide had so excited my curiosityabout this place, that I was most anxious to reach it. Jimmy said itwas not very far off. 

On the night of the 26th March, just as it was getting dark and havingleft Chimpering twenty-five miles behind us, we entered a piece ofbushy mulga country, the bushes being so thick that we had greatdifficulty in forcing our way through it in the dark. Our guide seemedvery much in the dark also; his movements were exceedingly uncertain, and I could see by the stars that we were winding about to all pointsof the compass. At last old Jimmy stopped and said we had reached theplace where Pylebung ought to be, but it was not; and here, he said, pointing to the ground, was to be our wurley, or camp, for the night. When I questioned him, and asked where the water was, he only replied, which way? This question I was altogether unable to answer, and I wasnot in a very amiable frame of mind, for we had been traversingfrightful country of dense scrubs all day in parching thirst andbroiling heat. So I told Nicholls to unpack the camels while Iunsaddled the horses. All the animals seemed over-powered withlassitude and exhaustion; the camels immediately lay down, and thehorses stood disconsolately close to them, now no longer terrified attheir proximity. 

Nicholls and I extended our rugs upon the ground and lay down, andthen we discovered that old Jimmy had left the camp, and thought hehad given us the slip in the dark. We had been lying down some timewhen the old fellow returned, and in the most voluble and excitedlanguage told us he had found the water; it was, he said, "big one, watta, mucka, pickaninny;" and in his delight at his success he beganto describe it, or try to do so, in the firelight, on the ground; hekept saying, "big one, watta--big one, watta--watta go that way, wattago this way, and watta go that way, and watta go this way, " turninghimself round and round, so that I thought it must be a lake or swamphe was trying to describe. However, we got the camels and horsesresaddled and packed, and took them where old Jimmy led us. The moonhad now risen above the high sandhills that surrounded us, and we soonemerged upon a piece of open ground where there was a large whiteclay-pan, or bare patch of white clay soil, glistening in the moon'srays, and upon this there appeared an astonishing object--somethinglike the wall of an old house or a ruined chimney. On arriving, we sawthat it was a circular wall or dam of clay, nearly five feet high, with a segment open to the south to admit and retain the rain-waterthat occasionally flows over the flat into this artificial receptacle. 

In spite of old Jimmy's asseverations, there was only sufficient waterto last one or two days, and what there was, was very thick andwhitish-coloured. The six animals being excessively thirsty, thevolume of the fluid gradually diminished in the moonlight before oureyes; the camels and horses' legs and noses were all pushing againstone another while they drank. 

This wall, or dam, constructed by the aboriginals, is the first pieceof work of art or usefulness that I had ever seen in all my travels inAustralia; and if I had only heard of it, I should seriously havereflected upon the credibility of my informant, because no attempts ofskill, or ingenuity, on the part of Australian natives, applied tobuilding, or the storage of water, have previously been met with, andI was very much astonished at beholding one now. This piece of workwas two feet thick on the top of the wall, twenty yards in the lengthof its sweep, and at the bottom, where the water lodged, theembankment was nearly five feet thick. The clay of which this dam wascomposed had been dug out of the hole in which the water lay, withsmall native wooden shovels, and piled up to its present dimensions. 

Immediately around this singular monument of native industry, thereare a few hundred acres of very pretty country, beautifully grassedand ornamented with a few mulga (acacia) trees, standing picturesquelyapart. The spot lies in a basin or hollow, and is surrounded in alldirections by scrubs and rolling sandhills. How we got to it I canscarcely tell, as our guide kept constantly changing his course, sothat the compass was of little or no use, and it was only by thesextant I could discover our whereabouts; by it I found we had comefifty-eight miles from Youldeh on a bearing of south 68 degrees east, we being now in latitude 30 degrees 43' and longitude 132 degrees 44'. There was so little water here that I was unable to remain more thanone day, during which the thermometer indicated 104 degrees in theshade. 

To the eastward of this dam there was a sandhill with a few black oaks(casuarinas) growing upon it, about a quarter of a mile away. A numberof stones of a calcareous nature were scattered about on it; on goingup this hill the day we rested the animals here, I was surprised tofind a broad path had been cleared amongst the stones for some dozensof yards, an oak-tree at each end being the terminal points. At thefoot of each tree at the end of the path the largest stones wereheaped; the path was indented with the tramplings of many natives'feet, and I felt sure that it was one of those places where the men ofthis region perform inhuman mutilations upon the youths and maidens oftheir tribe. I questioned old Jimmy about these matters, but he waslike all others of his race, who, while admitting the facts, protestthat they, individually, have never officiated at such doings. 

Upon leaving Pylebung Jimmy informed me that Mowling was the nextwatering-place, and said it lay nearly east from here; but I found wewent nearly north-east to reach it; this we did in seventeen miles, the country through which we passed being, as usual, all sandhills andscrub. Mowling consisted of a small acacia hollow, where there were afew boulders of granite; in these were two small holes, both as dry asthe surface of the rocks in their vicinity. On our route fromPylebung, we had seen the tracks of a single bullock; he also hadfound his way to Mowling, and probably left it howling; but it musthave been some time since his visit. 

From hence old Jimmy led us a good deal south of east, and we arrivedat another exposure of granite rocks in the dense scrubs. This placeJimmy called Whitegin. It was ten or eleven miles from Mowling. Therewas a small crevice between the rounded boulders of rock, which heldbarely sufficient water for the three horses, the camels getting none, though they persisted in bothering us all the afternoon, and appearedvery thirsty. They kept coming up to the camp perpetually, pulling ourcanvas bucket and tin utensils about with their lips, and I found thecunning of a camel in endeavouring to get water at the camp farexceeded that of any horse. 

There were a few dozen acres of pretty ground here with good grass andherbage on it. We had a great deal of trouble to-day in getting thecamels along; the foal or calf belonging to the old riding-cow gotitself entangled in its mother's nose-rope, and as we did not thenunderstand the management of camels, and how their nose-ropes shouldbe adjusted, we could not prevent the little brute from tearing thebutton clean through the cartilage of the poor old cow's nose; thisnot only caused the animal frightful pain, but made her more obstinateand stubborn and harder to get along than before. The agony the poorcreature suffered from flies must have been excruciating, as afterthis accident they entered her nostrils in such numbers that she oftenhung back, and would cough and snort until she had ejected a greatquantity of blood and flies from her nose. 

For the last few miles we had not been annoyed by quite so muchspinifex as usual, but the vast amount of dead wood and underbrush wasvery detrimental to the progress of the camels, who are not usually inthe habit of lifting their feet very high, though having the power, they learn it in time, but not before their toes got constantlyentangled with the dead sticks, which made them very sore. 

The scrub here and all the way we had come consisted mostly of mallee(Eucalyptus dumosa) mulga, prickly bushes (hakea), somegrevillea-trees, and a few oaks (casuarinas). This place, Whitegin, was eighty-five miles straight from Youldeh; we had, however, travelled about 100 miles to reach it, as Jimmy kept turning andtwisting about in the scrubs in all directions. On leaving Whitegin wetravelled several degrees to north of east, the thermometer in theshade while we rested there going up to 103 degrees. Jimmy said thenext place we should get water at was Wynbring, and from what we couldmake out of his jargon, he seemed to imply that Wynbring was a largewatercourse descending from a mountain and having a stony bed; he alsosaid we were now close up, and that it was only a pickaninny way. However, the shades of night descended upon us once more in the scrubsof this desert, and we were again compelled to encamp in a placelonely, and without water, amidst the desolations of thisscrub-enthroned tract. Choking with thirst and sleepless with anxiety, we pass the hours of night; no dews descend upon this heated place, and though towards dawn a slightly cooler temperature is felt, thereappearance of the sun is now so near, that there has been no timefor either earth or man to be benefited by it. Long before the sunhimself appears, those avant-couriers of his fiery might, heated glow, and feverish breeze, came rustling through the foliage of themallee-trees, which give out the semblance of a mournful sigh, asthough they too suffered from the heat and thirst of this desolateregion, in which they are doomed by fate to dwell, and as though theydesired to let the wanderers passing amongst them know, that they alsofelt, and were sorry for, our woes. 

The morning of March 31st was exceedingly hot, the thermometer at dawnstanding at 86 degrees. We were up and after the camels and horseslong before daylight, tracking them by the light of burning torches ofgreat bunches and boughs of the mallee trees--these burn almost aswell green as dry, from the quantity of aromatic eucalyptic oilcontained in them--and enormous plots of spinifex which we lighted aswe passed. 

Having secured all the animals, we started early, and were movingonwards before sunrise. From Whitegin I found we had come on a nearlynorth-east course, and at twenty-eight miles from thence the scrubsfell off a trifle in height and density. This morning our guidetravelled much straighter than was usual with him, and it was evidenthe had now no doubt that he was going in the right direction. Aboutten o'clock, after we had travelled thirteen or fourteen miles, Jimmyuttered an exclamation, pointed out something to us, and declared thatit was Wynbring. Then I could at once perceive how excessivelyinaccurate, the old gentleman's account of Wynbring had been, forinstead of its being a mountain, it was simply a round bare mass ofstone, standing in the centre of an open piece of country, surroundedas usual by the scrubs. When we arrived at the rock, we found thelarge creek channel, promised us had microscopicated itself down to amere rock-hole, whose dimensions were not very great. The rock itselfwas a bare expanse of granite, an acre or two in extent, and wasperhaps fifty feet high, while the only receptacle for water about itwas a crevice forty feet long, by four feet wide, with a depth of sixfeet in its deepest part. The hole was not full, but it held an amplesupply for all our present requirements. 

There were a few low sandhills near, ornamented with occasionalmulga-trees, and they made the place very pretty and picturesque. There were several old and new native gunyahs, or houses, if such aterm can be applied to these insignificant structures. Australianaborigines are a race who do not live in houses at all, but still thecommon instincts of humanity induce all men to try and secure somespot of earth which, for a time at least, they may call home; andthough the nomadic inhabitants or owners of these Australian wilds, donot remain for long in any one particular place, in consequence of thegame becoming too wild or destroyed, or water being used up orevaporated, yet, wherever they are located, every man or head of afamily has his home and his house, to which he returns in afterseasons. The natives in this, as in most other parts of Australia, seldom hunt without making perpetual grass or spinifex fires, and thetraveller in these wilds may be always sure that the natives are inthe neighbourhood when he can see the smokes, but it by no meansfollows that because there are smokes there must be water. Aninversion of the terms would be far more correct, and you might safelydeclare that because there is water there are sure to be smokes, andbecause there are smokes there are sure to be fires and because thereare fires there are sure to be natives, the present case being noexception to the rule, as several columns of smoke appeared in variousdirections. Old Jimmy's native name was Nanthona; in consequence hewas generally called Anthony, but he liked neither; he preferredJimmy, and asked me always to call him so. When at Youldeh the oldfellow had mentioned this spot, Wynbring, as the farthest water heknew to the eastwards, and now that we had arrived at it, he declaredthat beyond it there was nothing; it was the ultima thule of all hisgeographical ideas; he had never seen, heard, or thought of anythingbeyond it. It was certainly a most agreeable little oasis, and anexcellent spot for an explorer to come to in such a frightful region. Here were the three requisites that constitute an explorer'shappiness--that is to say, wood, water, and grass, there beingsplendid green feed and herbage on the few thousand acres of openground around the rock. The old black guide had certainly brought usto this romantic and secluded little spot, with, I suppose I may say, unerring precision, albeit he wound about so much on the road, andmade the distance far greater than it should have been. I was, however, struck with admiration at his having done so at all, and howhe or any other human being, not having the advantages of science athis command to teach him, by the use of the heavenly bodies, how tofind the position of any locality, could possibly return to the placeswe had visited in such a wilderness, especially as it was done by therecollection of spots which, to a white man, have no special featuresand no guiding points, was really marvellous. We had travelled atleast 120 miles eastward from Youldeh, and when there, this old fellowhad told us that he had not visited any of the places he was going totake me to since his boyhood; this at the very least must have beenforty years ago, for he was certainly fifty, if not seventy, yearsold. The knowledge possessed by these children of the desert ispreserved owing to the fact that their imaginations are untrammelled, the denizens of the wilderness, having their mental faculties put tobut few uses, and all are concentrated on the object of obtaining foodfor themselves and their offspring. Whatever ideas they possess, andthey are by no means dull or backward in learning new ones, are everkeen and young, and Nature has endowed them with an undying mentalyouth, until their career on earth is ended. As says a poet, speakingof savages or men in a state of nature:--

 "There the passions may revel unfettered, And the heart never speak but in truth; And the intellect, wholly unlettered, Be bright with the freedom of youth. "

Assuredly man in a savage state, is by no means the unhappiest ofmortals. Old Jimmy's faculties of memory were put to the test severaltimes during the eight days we were travelling from Youldeh to thisrock. Sometimes when leading us through the scrubs, and havingtravelled for some miles nearly east, he would notice a tree or asandhill, or something that he remembered, and would turn suddenlyfrom that point in an entirely different direction, towards some highand severe sandhill; here he would climb a tree. After a few minutes'gazing about, he would descend, mount his horse, and go off on somenew line, and in the course of a mile or so he would stop at a tree, and tell us that when a little boy he got a 'possum out of a holewhich existed in it. At another place he said his mother was bitten bya wild dog, which she was digging out of a hole in the ground; andthus we came to Wynbring at last. 

A conspicuous mountain--indeed the only object upon which the eyecould rest above the dense scrubs that surrounded us--bore south 52degrees east from this rock, and I supposed it was Mount Finke. Ouradvent disturbed a number of natives; their fresh footprints wereeverywhere about the place, and our guide not being at ease in hismind as to what sort of reception he might get from the owners of thisdemesne, told me if I would let him have a gun, he would go and huntthem up, and try to induce some of them to come to the camp. The oldchap had but limited experience of firearms, so I gave him an unloadedgun, as he might have shot himself, or any other of the natives, without intending to do any harm. Away he went, and returned with fivecaptives, an antiquated one-eyed old gentleman, with his three wives, and one baby belonging to the second wife, who had been a woman ofconsiderable beauty. She was now rather past her prime. What theoldest wife could ever have been like, it was impossible to guess, asnow she seemed more like an old she-monkey than anything else. Theyoungest was in the first flush of youth and grace. The new old manwas very tall, and had been very big and powerful, but he was nowshrunken and grey with age. He ordered his wives to sit down in theshade of a bush near our camp; this they did. I walked towards the oldman, when he immediately threw his aged arms round me, and clasped merapturously to his ebony breast. Then his most ancient wife followedhis example, clasping me in the same manner. The second wife wasrather incommoded in her embrace by the baby in her arms, and itsqualled horridly the nearer its mother put it to me. The third andyoungest wife, who was really very pretty, appeared enchantinglybashful, but what was her bashfulness compared to mine, when compelledfor mere form's sake to enfold in my arms a beautiful and naked youngwoman? It was really a distressing ordeal. She showed her appreciationof our company by the glances of her black and flashing eyes, and theexposure of two rows of beautifully even and pearly teeth. 

However charming woman may look in a nude or native state, with allher youthful graces about her, still the poetic line, that beautyunadorned, adorned the most, is not entirely true. Woman never appearsso thoroughly charming as when her graces are enveloped in a becomingdress. These natives all seemed anxious that I should give them names, and I took upon myself the responsibility of christening them. Theyoung beauty I called Polly, the mother Mary, the baby Kitty, theoldest woman Judy, and to the old man I gave the name of WynbringTommy, as an easy one for him to remember and pronounce. There existsamongst the natives of this part of the continent, an ancient andOriental custom which either compels or induces the wife or wives of aman who is in any way disfigured in form or feature to show theirlove, esteem, or obedience, by becoming similarly disfigured, on thesame principle that Sindbad the Sailor was buried with his wife. Inthis case the two elder wives of this old man had each relinquished aneye, and no doubt the time was soon approaching when the youngestwould also show her conjugal fidelity and love by similar mutilation, unless the old heathen should happen to die shortly and she becomeespoused to some other, rejoicing in the possession of a fullcomplement of eyes--a consummation devoutly to be wished. 

The position of this rock and watering-place I found to be in latitude30 degrees 32' and longitude 133 degrees 30'. The heat still continuedvery great, the thermometer at its highest reading never indicatingless than 104 degrees in the shade while we were here. The flies atthis place, and indeed for weeks before we reached it, were terriblynumerous, and we were troubled also with myriads of the large Marchflies, those horrid pests about twice the size of the blowfly, andwhich bite men, horses, and camels, and all other animalsindiscriminately. These wretches would not allow either us or theanimals a moment's respite, from dawn to dusk; they almost ate thepoor creatures alive, and kept them in a state of perpetual motion intheir hobbles during daylight all the while we were here. In thedaytime it was only by continued use of our hands, in waving ahandkerchief or bough, that we kept them partially off ourselves, forwith all our efforts to drive them away, we were continually bittenand stung almost to madness. I have often been troubled by these fliesin other parts of Australia, but I never experienced so much pain andannoyance as at this place. The hideous droning noise which amultitude of these insects make is quite enough to destroy one'speace, but when their incessant bites are added, existence becomes aburden. 

Since we left Youldeh, and there also, the days had been frightfullyhot, and the nights close, cloudy, and sultry. The only currents ofair that ever stirred the foliage of the trees in the daytime werelike the breath from a furnace, while at night there was hardly any atall. The 1st of April, the last day we remained here, was the hottestday we had felt. Life was almost insupportable, and I determined toleave the place upon the morrow. There had evidently been some rain atthis rock lately, as the grass and herbage were green and luxuriant, and the flies so numerous. It was most fortunate for us, as mysubsequent narrative will show, that we had some one to guide us tothis spot, which I found by observation lay almost east of Youldeh, and was distant from that depot 110 miles in a straight line. OldJimmy knew nothing whatever of the region which lay beyond, and thoughI endeavoured to get him to ask the old man and his wives where anyother waters existed, all the information I could gather from thesepersons was, that there was a big mountain and no water at it. The oldman at last found enough English to say, "Big fellow Poonta (stones, hills, or mountains) and mucka carpee, " which means no water. I gavethese poor people a little damper and some tea each, and Polly somesugar, when they departed. Old Jimmy seemed very unwilling to go anyfarther eastwards, giving me to understand that it was a far betterplan to return to Fowler's Bay, and that he would show me some newwatering-places if I would only follow him. To this, of course, Iturned a deaf ear. 

The nearest water on the route I desired to travel, was at Sir ThomasElder's cattle station, at the Finniss Springs, under the Hermit Hill, distant from this rock about 250 miles in a straight line; but as themountain to the south-east looked so conspicuous and inviting, Idetermined to visit it, in spite of what the old black fellow had saidabout there being no water, though it lay considerably out of thestraight road to where I wanted to go. It looked high and rugged, andI thought to find water in some rock-hole or crevice about it. 

CHAPTER 3. 2. FROM 2ND APRIL TO 6TH MAY, 1875. 

Leave Wynbring. The horses. Mountains of sand. Mount Finke. One horse succumbs. Torchlight tracking. Trouble with the camels. A low mount. Dry salt lagoons. 200 miles yet from water. Hope. Death of Chester. The last horse. A steede, a steede. Ships of the desert. Reflections at night. Death or Water. The Hermit Hill. Black shepherds and shepherdesses. The Finniss Springs. Victims to the bush. Footprints on the sands of time. Alec Ross. Reach Beltana. 

On the 2nd April we departed from this friendly depot at WynbringRock, taking our three horses, the two camels and the calf. Themorning was as hot as fire; at midday we watered all our animals, andhaving saddled and packed them, we left the place behind us. On thetwo camels we carried as much water as we had vessels to hold it, thequantity being nearly fifty gallons. The horses were now on morefriendly terms with them, so that they could be led by a person onhorseback. Old Jimmy, now no longer a guide, was not permitted to takethe lead, but rode behind, to see that nothing fell off the camels'saddles. I rode in advance, on my best horse Chester, a fine, well-setchestnut cob, a horse I was very fond of, as he had proved himself sogood. Nicholls rode a strong young grey horse called Formby; he alsohad proved himself to my satisfaction to be a good one. Jimmy wasmounted on an old black horse, that was a fine ambler, the one thatbolted away with the load of water the first night we started fromYouldeh. He had not stood the journey from Youldeh at all well; theother two were quite fresh and hearty when we left Wynbring. 

By the evening of the 2nd we had made only twenty-two miles. We foundthe country terrific; the ground rose into sandhills so steep andhigh, that all our animals were in a perfect lather of sweat. Thecamels could hardly be got along at all. At night, where we werecompelled by darkness to encamp, there was nothing for the horses toeat, so the poor brutes had to be tied up, lest they should rambleback to Wynbring. There was plenty of food for the camels, as theycould eat the leaves of some of the bushes, but they were too sulky toeat because they were tied up. The bull continually bit his nose-ropethrough, and made several attempts to get away, the calf always goingwith him, leaving his mother: this made her frantic to get away too. The horses got frightened, and were snorting and jumping about, tryingto break loose all night. The spot we were in was a hollow, betweentwo high sandhills, and not a breath of air relieved us from theoppression of the atmosphere. Peter Nicholls and I were in a state ofthirst and perspiration the whole night, running about after thecamels and keeping the horses from breaking away. If the cow had gotloose, we could not have prevented the camels clearing off. I wasnever more gratified than at the appearance of the next morning'sdawn, as it enabled us to move away from this dreadful place. It wasimpossible to travel through this region at night, even by moonlight;we should have lost our eyes upon the sticks and branches of thedireful scrubs if we had attempted it, besides tearing our skin andclothes to pieces also. Starting at earliest dawn, and traversingformidably steep and rolling waves of sand, we at length reached thefoot of the mountain we had been striving for, in twenty-three miles, forty-five from Wynbring. I could not help thinking it was the mostdesolate heap on the face of the earth, having no water or places thatcould hold it. The elevation of this eminence was over 1000 feet abovethe surrounding country, and over 2000 feet above the sea. The countryvisible from its summit was still enveloped in dense scrubs in everydirection, except on a bearing a few degrees north of east, where somelow ridges appeared. I rode my horse Chester many miles over thewretched stony slopes at the foot of this mountain, and tied him up totrees while I walked to its summit, and into gullies and crevicesinnumerable, but no water rewarded my efforts, and it was very evidentthat what the old black fellow Wynbring Tommy, had said, about itsbeing waterless was only too true. After wasting several hours in afruitless search for water, we left the wretched mount, and steeredaway for the ridges I had seen from its summit. They appeared to beabout forty-five miles away. As it was so late in the day when we leftthe mountain, we got only seven miles from it when darkness againovertook us, and we had to encamp. 

On the following day, the old horse Jimmy was riding completely gavein from the heat and thirst and fearful nature of the country we weretraversing, having come only sixty-five miles from Wynbring. We couldneither lead, ride, nor drive him any farther. We had given each horsesome water from the supply the camels carried, when we reached themountain, and likewise some on the previous night, as the heavysandhills had so exhausted them, this horse having received more thanthe others. Now he lay down and stretched out his limbs in the agonyof thirst and exhaustion. I was loth to shoot the poor old creature, and I also did not like the idea of leaving him to die slowly ofthirst; but I thought perhaps if I left him, he might recoversufficiently to travel at night at his own pace, and thus return toWynbring, although I also knew from former sad experience in Gibson'sDesert, that, like Badger and Darkie, it was more than probable hecould never escape. His saddle was hung in the fork of asandal-wood-tree, not the sandal-wood of commerce, and leaving himstretched upon the burning sand, we moved away. Of course he was neverseen or heard of after. 

That night we encamped only a few miles from the ridges, at a placewhere there was a little dry grass, and where both camels and horseswere let go in hobbles. Long before daylight on the following morning, old Jimmy and I were tracking the camels by torchlight, thehorse-bells indicating that those animals were not far off; thecamel-bells had gone out of hearing early in the night. Old Jimmy wasa splendid tracker; indeed, no human being in the world but anAustralian aboriginal, and that a half or wholly wild one, could tracka camel on some surfaces, for where there is any clayey soil, thecreature leaves no more mark on the ground than an ant--black childrenoften amuse themselves by tracking ants--and to follow such marks asthey do leave, by firelight, was marvellous. Occasionally they wouldleave some marks that no one could mistake, where they passed oversandy ground; but for many hundreds beyond, it would appear as thoughthey must have flown over the ground and had never put their feet tothe earth at all. By the time daylight appeared, old Jimmy had trackedthem about three miles; then he went off, apparently quite regardlessof any tracks at all, walking at such a pace, that I could only keepup with him by occasionally running. We came upon the camels at lengthat about six miles from the camp, amongst some dry clay-pans, and theywere evidently looking for water. The old cow, which was the onlyriding camel, was so poor and bony, it was too excruciating to rideher without a saddle or a pad of some sort, which now we had not got, so we took it in turns to ride the bull, and he made many attempts toshake us off; but as he had so much hair on his hump, we could clingon by that as we sat behind it. It was necessary for whoever waswalking to lead him by his nose-rope, or he would have bolted away andrubbed his encumbrance off against a tree, or else rolled on it. Inconsequence of the camels having strayed so far, it was late in theday when we again started, the two horses looking fearfully hollow andbad. The morning as usual was very hot. There not being now a horse apiece to ride, and the water which one camel had carried having beendrank by the animals, Peter Nicholls rode the old cow again, both sheand the bull being much more easy to manage and get along than when westarted from Youldeh. Our great difficulty was with the nose-ropes;the calf persisted in getting in front of its mother and twisting hernose-rope round his neck, also in placing itself right in between thefore-legs of the bull. This would make him stop, pull back and breakhis rope, or else the button would tear through the nose; this causeddetention a dozen times a day, and I was so annoyed with the younganimal, I could scarcely keep from shooting it many times. The youngcreature was most endearing now, when caught, and evidently sufferedgreatly from thirst. 

We reached the ridges in seven miles from where we had camped, and hadnow come ninety miles from Wynbring. We could find no water at theseridges, as there were no places that could hold it. Here we may besaid to have entered on a piece of open country, and as it wasapparently a change for the better from the scrubs, I was very glad tosee it, especially as we hoped to obtain water on it. Our horses werenow in a terrible state of thirst, for the heat was great, and theregion we had traversed was dreadfully severe, and though they hadeach been given some of the water we brought with us, yet we could notafford anything like enough to satisfy them. From the top of the ridgea low mount or hill bore 20 degrees north of east; Mount Finke, behindus, bore 20 degrees south of west. I pushed on now for the hill inadvance, as it was nearly on the route I desired to travel. Thecountry being open, we made good progress, and though we could notreach it that night, we were upon its summit early the next morning, it being about thirty miles from the ridges we had left, a number ofdry, salt, white lagoons intervening. This hill was as dry andwaterless as the mount and ridges, we had left behind us in thescrubs. Dry salt lagoons lay scattered about in nearly all directions, glittering with their saline encrustations, as the sun's rays flashedupon them. To the southward two somewhat inviting isolated hills wereseen; in all other directions the horizon appeared gloomy in theextreme. We had now come 120 miles from water, and the supply we hadstarted with was almost exhausted; the country we were in could giveus none, and we had but one, of two courses to pursue, either toadvance still further into this terrible region, or endeavour toretreat to Wynbring. No doubt the camels could get back alive, butourselves and the horses could never have recrossed the frightful bedof rolling sand-mounds, that intervened between us and the water wehad left. My poor old black companion was aghast at such a region, andalso at what he considered my utter folly in penetrating into it atall. Peter Nicholls, I was glad to find, was in good spirits, andgradually changing his opinions with regard to the powers and value ofthe camels. They had received no water themselves, though they hadlaboured over the hideous sandhills, laden with the priceless fluidfor the benefit of the horses, and it was quite evident the lattercould not much longer live, in such a desert, whilst the former werenow far more docile and obedient to us than when we started. Wheneverthe horses were given any water, we had to tie the camels up at somedistance. The expression in these animals' eyes when they saw thehorses drinking was extraordinary; they seemed as though they weregoing to speak, and had they done so, I know well they would havesaid, "You give those useless little pigmies the water that cannotsave them, and you deny it to us, who have carried it, and will yet beyour only saviours in the end. " After we had fruitlessly searched herefor water, having wasted several hours, we left this wretched hill, and I continued steering upon the same course we had come, namely, north 75 degrees east, as that bearing would bring me to thenorth-western extremity of Lake Torrens, still distant over 120 miles. It was very probable we should get no water, as none is known to existwhere we should touch upon its shores. Thus we were, after coming 120miles from Wynbring, still nearly 200 miles from the Finniss Springs, the nearest water that I knew. It was now a matter of life and death;could we reach the Finniss at all? We could neither remain here, norshould we survive if we attempted to retreat; to advance was our onlychance of escape from the howling waste in which we were almostentombed; we therefore moved onwards, as fast and as far as we could. On the following morning, before dawn, I had been lying wakefullylistening for the different sounds of the bells on the animals' necks, and got up to brighten up the camp fire with fresh wood, when thestrange sound of the quacking of a wild duck smote upon my ear. Theblaze of firelight had evidently attracted the creature, whichprobably thought it was the flashing of water, as it flew down closeto my face, and almost precipitated itself into the flames; butdiscovering its error, it wheeled away upon its unimpeded wings, andleft me wondering why this denizen of the air and water, should besojourning around the waterless encampment of such hapless travellersas we. The appearance of such a bird raised my hopes, and forced me tobelieve that we must be in the neighbourhood of some water, and thatthe coming daylight would reveal to us the element which alone couldsave us and our unfortunate animals from death. But, alas! how manyhuman hopes and aspirations are continually doomed to perishunfulfilled; and were it not that "Hope springs eternal in the humanbreast, " all faith, all energy, all life, and all success would be atan end, as then we should know that most of our efforts are futile, whereas now we hope they may attain complete fruition. Yet, on theother hand, we learn that the fruit of dreamy hoping is waking blankdespair. We were again in a region of scrubs as bad and as dense asthose I hoped and thought, I had left behind me. 

Leaving our waterless encampment, we continued our journey, amelancholy, thirsty, silent trio. At 150 miles from Wynbring my poorhorse Chester gave in, and could go no farther; for some miles I hadwalked, and we had the greatest difficulty in forcing him along, butnow he was completely exhausted and rolled upon the ground in thedeath agony of thirst. It was useless to waste time over theunfortunate creature; it was quite impossible for him ever to riseagain, so in mercy I fired a revolver-bullet at his forehead, as hegasped spasmodically upon the desert sand: a shiver passed through hisframe, and we left him dead in the lonely spot. 

We had now no object but to keep pushing on; our supply of water wasall but gone, and we were in the last stage of thirst andwretchedness. By the night of that day we had reached a place 168miles from Wynbring, and in all that distance not a drop of water hadbeen found. We had one unfortunate horse left, the grey called Formby, and that poor creature held out as long and on as little water as I amsure is possible in such a heated and horrid region. On the followingmorning the poor beast came up to Nicholls and I, old Jimmy beingafter the camels which were close by, and began to smell us, thenstood gazing vacantly at the fire; a thought seemed to strike him thatit was water, and he put his mouth down into the flames. This ideaseems to actuate all animals when in the last stage of thirst. We werechoking with thirst ourselves, but we agreed to sacrifice a smallbillyful of our remaining stock of water for this unfortunate lastvictim to our enterprise. We gave him about two quarts, and bitterlywe regretted it later, hoping he might still be able to stagger on towhere water might be found; but vain was the hope and vain the gift, for the creature that had held up so long and so well, swallowed upthe last little draught we gave, fell down and rolled and shivered inagony, as Chester had done, and he died and was at rest. A singularthing about this horse was that his eyes had sunk into his head untilthey were all but hidden. For my own part, in such a region and insuch a predicament as we were placed, I would not unwillingly havefollowed him into the future. 

The celebrated Sir Thomas Mitchell, one of Australia's earlyexplorers, in one of his journeys, after finding a magnificent countrywatered by large rivers, and now the long-settled abodes ofcivilisation, mounted on a splendid horse, bursts into an old cavaliersong, a verse of which says:

 "A steede, a steede of matchless speede, A sworde of metal keane; All else to noble mindes is drosse; All else on earthe is meane. "

I don't know what he would have thought had he been in my case, withhis matchless "steede" dead, and in the pangs of thirst himself, his"sworde of metal keane" a useless encumbrance, 168 miles from the lastwater, and not knowing where the next might be; he would have to admitthat the wonderful beasts which now alone remained to us were by nomeans to be accounted "meane, " for these patient and enduringcreatures, which were still alive, had tasted no water since leavingWynbring, and, though the horses were dead and gone, stood up withundiminished powers--appearing to be as well able now to continue onand traverse this wide-spread desert as when they left the last oasisbehind. We had nothing now to depend upon but our two "ships of thedesert, " which we were only just beginning to understand. I had been afirm believer in them from the first, and had many an argument withNicholls about them; his opinion had now entirely altered. At Youldehhe had called them ugly, useless, lazy brutes, that were not to becompared to horses for a moment; but now that the horses were deadthey seemed more agreeable and companionable than ever the horses hadbeen. 

When Jimmy brought them to the camp they looked knowingly at theprostrate form of the dead horse; they kneeled down close beside itand received their loads, now indeed light enough, and we went offagain into the scrubs, riding and walking by turns, our lives entirelydepending on the camels; Jimmy had told us they were calmly feedingupon some of the trees and bushes in the neighbourhood when he gotthem. That they felt the pangs of thirst there can be no doubt--andwhat animal can suffer thirst like a camel?--as whenever they werebrought to the camp they endeavoured to fumble about the emptywater-bags, tin pannikins, and any other vessel that ever hadcontained water. 

The days of toil, the nights of agony and feverish unrest, that Ispent upon this journey I can never forget. After struggling throughthe dense scrubs all day we were compelled perforce to remain in themall night. It was seldom now we spoke to one another, we were toothirsty and worn with lassitude to converse, and my reflections thenight after the last horse died, when we had come nearly 200 mileswithout water, of a necessity assumed a gloomy tinge, although I amthe least gloomy-minded of the human race, for we know that the toneof the mind is in a great measure sympathetic with the physicalcondition of the body. If the body is weak from exhaustion andfatigue, the brain and mind become dull and sad, and the thoughts of awanderer in such a desolate region as this, weary with a march in heatand thirst from daylight until dark, who at last sinks upon the heatedground to watch and wait until the blazing sunlight of another day, perhaps, may bring him to some place of rest, cannot be otherwise thanof a mournful kind. The mind is forced back upon itself, and becomesfilled with an endless chain of thoughts which wander through thevastness of the star-bespangled spheres; for here, the only things tosee, the only things to love, and upon which the eye may gaze, andfrom which the beating heart may gather some feelings of repose, arethe glittering bands of brilliant stars shining in the azure vault ofheaven. From my heated couch of sandy earth I gazed helplessly butrapturously upon them, wondering at the enormity of occupied andunoccupied space, revolving thoughts of past, present, and futureexistencies, and of how all that is earthly fadeth away. But can thatbe the case with our world itself, with the sun from which it obtainsits light and life, or with the starry splendours of the worlds beyondthe sun? Will they, can they, ever fade? They are not spiritual;celestial still we call them, but they are material all, in form andnature. We are both; yet we must fade and they remain. How is theunderstanding to decide which of the two holds the main spring andthread of life? Certainly we know that the body decays, and even thepaths of glory lead but to the grave; but we also know that the mindbecomes enfeebled with the body, that the aged become almost idioticin their second childhood; and if the body is to rise again, how ispoor humanity to distinguish the germ of immortality? Philosophies andspeculations upon the future have been subjects of the deepest thoughtfor the highest minds of every generation of mankind; and althoughcreeds have risen and sunk, and old religions and philosophies havepassed away, the dubious minds of mortal men still hang and harp uponthe theme of what can be the Great Beyond. The various creeds, of themany different nations of the earth induce them to believe in as manydiffering notions of heaven, but all and each appear agreed upon thepoint that up into the stars alone their hoped-for heaven is to befound; and if all do not, in this agree, still there are some aspiringminds high soaring above sublunary things, above the petty disputes ofdiffering creeds, and the vague promises they hold out to theirvotaries, who behold, in the firmament above, mighty and mysteriousobjects for veneration and love. 

These are the gorgeous constellations set thick with starry gems, therevolving orbs of densely crowded spheres, the systems beyond systems, clusters beyond clusters, and universes beyond universes, allbrilliantly glittering with various coloured light, all wheeling andswaying, floating and circling round some distant, unknown, motive, centre-point, in the pauseless measures of a perpetual dance of joy, keeping time and tune with most ecstatic harmony, and producing uponthe enthralled mind the not imaginary music of the spheres. 

Then comes the burning wish to know how come these mighty mysteriousand material things about. We are led to suppose as our own minds andbodies progressively improve from a state of infancy to acertain-point, so it is with all things we see in nature; but themethod of the original production of life and matter is beyond thepowers of man to discover. Therefore, we look forward with anxiety andsuspense, hope, love, and fear to a future time, having passed throughthe portals of the valley of death, from this existence, we shallenjoy life after life, in new body, after new body, passing throughnew sphere, after new sphere, arriving nearer and nearer to thefountain-head of all perfection, the divinely great Almighty source oflight and life, of hope and love. 

These were some of my reflections throughout that weary night; thestars that in their constellations had occupied the zenith, now havepassed the horizon's verge; other and fresh glittering bands nowoccupy their former places--at last the dawn begins to glimmer in theeast, and just as I could have fallen into the trance of sleep, it wastime for the race for life, again to wander on, so soon as our animalscould be found. 

This was the eighth day of continued travel from Wynbring; our waterwas now all gone, and we were yet more than 100 miles from the FinnissSprings. I had been compelled to enforce a most rigid and inadequateeconomy with our water during our whole march; when we left the campwhere the last horse died very little over three pints remained; wewere all very bad, old Jimmy was nearly dead. At about four o'clock inthe afternoon we came to a place where there was a considerable fallinto a hollow, here was some bare clay--in fact it was an enormousclay-pan, or miniature lake-bed; the surface was perfectly dry, but ina small drain or channel, down which water could descend in times ofrain, by the blessing of Providence I found a supply of yellow water. Nicholls had previously got strangely excited--in fact the poor fellowwas light-headed from thirst, and at one place where there was nowater he threw up his hat and yelled out "Water, water!" he walking alittle in advance; we had really passed the spot where the water was, but when Nicholls gave the false information I jumped down off mycamel and ran up to him, only to be grievously disappointed; but as Iwent along I caught sight of a whitish light through the mulga treespartially behind me, and without saying a word for fear of freshdisappointment, I walked towards what I had seen; Nicholls and Jimmy, who both seemed dazed, went on with the camels. 

What I had seen, was a small sheet of very white water, and I couldnot resist the temptation to drink before I went after them. By thetime I had drank they had gone on several hundred yards; when I calledto them and flung up my hat, they were so stupid with thirst, anddisappointment, that they never moved towards me, but stood staringuntil I took the camels' nose-rope in my hand, and, pointing to myknees, which were covered with yellow mud, simply said "water"; then, when I led the camels to the place, down these poor fellows went ontheir knees, in the mud and water, and drank, and drank, and I againknelt down and drank, and drank. Oh, dear reader, if you have neversuffered thirst you can form no conception what agony it is. But talkabout drinking, I couldn't have believed that even thirsty camelscould have swallowed such enormous quantities of fluid. 

It was delightful to watch the poor creatures visibly swelling beforeour eyes. I am sure the big bull Mustara must have taken down fiftygallons of water, for even after the first drink, when we took theirsaddles off at the camp, they all three went back to the water andkept drinking for nearly an hour. 

We had made an average travelling of twenty-eight miles a day fromWynbring, until this eighth day, when we came to the water intwenty-four miles, thus making it 220 miles in all. I could notsufficiently admire and praise the wonderful powers of theseextraordinary, and to me entirely new animals. During the time we hadbeen travelling the weather had been very hot and oppressive, thethermometer usually rising to 104 degrees in the shade when we restedfor an hour in the middle of the day, but that was not the hottesttime, from 2. 40 to 3 p. M. Being the culminating period. The country wehad traversed was a most frightful desert, yet day after day our noblecamels kept moving slowly but surely on, with undiminished powers, having carried water for their unfortunate companions the horses, andseeing them drop one by one exhausted and dying of thirst; still theymarched contentedly on, carrying us by turns, and all the remaininggear of the dead horses, and finally brought us to water at last. Wehad yet over eighty miles to travel to reach the Finniss, and had wenot found water I am sure the three human beings of the party couldnever have got there. The walking in turns over this dreadful regionmade us suffer all the more, and it was dangerous at any time to allowold Jimmy to put his baking lips to a water-bag, for he could havedrank a couple of gallons at any time with the greatest ease. For somemiles before we found the water the country had become of much betterquality, the sandhills being lower and well grassed, with clay flatsbetween. We also passed a number with pine-trees growing on them. Rains had evidently visited this region, as before I found the water Inoticed that many of the deeper clay channels were only recently dry;when I say deeper, I mean from one to two feet, the usual depth of aclay-pan channel being about as many inches. The grass and herbageround the channel where I found the water were beautifully green. 

Our course from the last hill had been about north 75 degrees east;the weather, which had been exceedingly oppressive for so many weeks, now culminated in a thunderstorm of dust, or rather sand and wind, while dark nimbus clouds completely eclipsed the sun, and reduced thetemperature to an agreeable and bearable state. No rain fell, but fromthis change the heats of summer departed, though the change did notoccur until after we had found the water; now all our good things cametogether, namely, an escape from death by thirst, a watered and bettertravelling country, and cooler weather. Here we very naturally took aday to recruit. Old Jimmy was always very anxious to know how thecompass was working, as I had always told him the compass would bringus to water, that it knew every country and every water, and as it didbring us to water, he thought what I said about it must be true. Ialso told him it would find some more water for us to-morrow. We werealways great friends, but now I was so advanced in his favour that hepromised to give me his daughter Mary for a wife when I took him backto Fowler's Bay. Mary was a very pretty little girl. But "I to wedwith Coromantees? Thoughts like these would drive me mad. And yet Ihold some (young) barbarians higher than the Christian cad. " After ourday's rest we again proceeded on our journey, with all our watervessels replenished, and of course now found several other places onour route where rain-water was lying, and it seemed like beingtranslated to a brighter sphere, to be able to indulge in as muchwater-drinking as we pleased. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE HERMIT HILL AND FINNISS SPRINGS. )

At one place where we encamped there was a cane grass flat, over amile long, fifty to a hundred yards wide, and having about four feetof water in it, which was covered with water-fowl; amongst these anumber of black swans were gracefully disporting themselves. PeterNicholls made frantic efforts to shoot a swan and some ducks, but heonly brought one wretchedly small teal into the camp. We continued onour former course until we touched upon and rounded the north-westernextremity of Lake Torrens. I then changed my course for the HermitHill, at the foot of which the Finniss Springs and Sir Thomas Elder'scattle station lies. Our course was now nearly north. On the eveningof the third day after leaving the water that had saved us, we fell inwith two black fellows and their lubras or wives, shepherding twoflocks of Mr. Angas's sheep belonging to his Stuart's Creek station. As they were at a water, we encamped with them. Their lubras wereyoung and pretty; the men were very hospitable to us, and gave us somemutton, for which we gave them tobacco and matches; for their kindnessI gave the pretty lubras some tea and sugar. Our old Jimmy went up tothem and shook hands, and they became great friends. These blackscould not comprehend where we could possibly have come from, Fowler'sBay being an unknown quantity to them. We had still a good day's stagebefore us to reach the Finniss, but at dusk we arrived, and were verykindly received and entertained by Mr. Coulthard, who was in charge. His father had been an unfortunate explorer, who lost his life bythirst, upon the western shores of the Lake Torrens I have mentioned, his tin pannikin or pint pot was afterwards found with his name andthe date of the last day he lived, scratched upon it. Many anunrecorded grave, many a high and noble mind, many a gallant victim totemerity and thirst, to murder by relentless native tribes, or sadmischance, is hidden in the wilds of Australia, and not only in thewilds, but in places also less remote, where the whistle of theshepherd and the bark of his dog, the crack of the stockman's whip, orthe gay or grumbling voice of the teamster may now be heard, someunfortunate wanderer may have died. As the poet says:--

 "Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid, Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstacy the living lyre. "

If it is with a thought of pity, if it is with a sigh of lament, thatwe ponder over the fate of the lost, over the deaths in the longcatalogue of the victims to the Australian bush, from Cunningham (lostwith Mitchell) and Leichhardt, Kennedy and Gilbert, Burke, Wills, Gray, Poole, Curlewis and Conn, down to Coulthard, Panter, and Gibson, it must be remembered that they died in a noble cause, and they sleepin honourable graves. Nor must it be forgotten that they who returnfrom confronting the dangers by which these others fell, have sufferedenough to make them often wish that they, too, could escape throughthe grave from the horrors surrounding them. I have often been in suchpredicaments that I have longed for death, but having as yet returnedalive, from deserts and their thirst, from hostile native tribes anddeadly spears, and feeling still "the wild pulsation which inmanhood's dawn I knew, when my days were all before me, and my yearswere twenty-two, "--as long as there are new regions to explore, theburning charm of seeking something new, will still possess me; and Iam also actuated to aspire and endeavour if I cannot make my lifesublime, at least to leave behind me some "everlasting footprints onthe sands of time. "

At the Finniss Springs I met young Alec Ross, the son of anotherexplorer, who was going to join my party for the new expedition toPerth. My destination was now Beltana, 140 miles from hence. I got acouple of horses for Nicholls and myself from Mr. Coulthard, Jimmybeing stuck up on the top of the old riding cow camel, who couldtravel splendidly on a road. When I arrived at Beltana I had travelled700 miles from Fowler's Bay. 

BOOK 4. 

CHAPTER 4. 1. FROM 6TH MAY TO 27TH JULY, 1875. 

Fourth expedition. The members. Departure. Squabbles. Port Augusta. Coogee Mahomet. Mr. Roberts and Tommy. Westward ho!. The equipment. Dinner and a sheep. The country. A cattle ranch. Stony plateau. The Elizabeth. Mr. Moseley. Salt lakes. Coondambo. Curdling tea. An indented hill. A black boy's argument. Pale-green-foliaged tree. A lost officer. Camels poisoned. Mount Finke in the winter. Wynbring. A new route. A good Mussulman. Depart from Wynbring. New places. Antediluvian cisterns. Still westwards. Lake Bring. Rain and a bath. A line cut in the scrubs. High sandhills. Return to Youldeh. Waking dreams. In depot. Fowler's Bay once more. The officers explore to the north. Jimmy and Tommy. Jimmy's bereavement. At the bay. Richard Dorey. Return to Youldeh. Tommy's father. The officer's report Northwards. Remarks. 

Sir Thomas Elder was desirous that the new expedition for Perth, forwhich camels were to be the only animals taken, should start fromBeltana by the 1st of May. I was detained a few days beyond that time, but was enabled to leave on Thursday, May the 6th. The members of theparty were six in number, namely myself, Mr. William Henry Tietkens, who had been with me as second on my last expedition with horses--hehad been secured from Melbourne by Sir Thomas Elder, and was againgoing as second; Mr. Jess Young, a young friend of Sir Thomas's latelyarrived from England; Alexander Ross, mentioned previously; PeterNicholls, who had just come with me from Fowler's Bay, and who nowcame as cook; and Saleh, the Afghan camel-driver as they like to becalled. I also took for a short distance, until Alec Ross overtook me, another Afghan called Coogee Mahomet, and the old guide Jimmy, who wasto return to the bosom of his family so soon as we arrived anywheresufficiently near the neighbourhood of his country. Poor old Jimmy hadbeen ill at Beltana, and suffered greatly from colds and influenza. The Beltana blacks did not treat him so well as he expected, and someof them threatened to kill him for poking his nose into their country, consequently he did not like the place at all, and was mighty glad tobe taken away. Thus, as I have said, on the 6th of May, 1875, thecaravan departed from Beltana, but we did not immediately leavecivilisation or the settled districts, as I had to travel 150 milesdown the country nearly south, to Port Augusta at the head ofSpencer's Gulf, where I intended to take in my stores, and loading forthe inland voyage, as most of my equipment was forwarded by Sir Thomasfrom Adelaide to that port. 

Nothing very particular occurred on the road down, except somecontinual squabbles between myself, and Saleh and Coogee, on accountof the extraordinary and absurd manner in which these two men wantedto load and work the camels. In the first place, we had several youngcamels or colts in the mob, some of these were bulls and othersbullocks. The Afghans have a way when travelling of bringing thecamels up to the camp and making them lie down by their loads allnight, whether they have had time to fill themselves or not. Thissystem was so revolting to my notions of fair play that I determinedto alter it at once. 

Another thing that annoyed me was their absurd and stupid custom ofhobbling, and unhobbling, while the camels were lying down. This maybe necessary for the first few days after the creatures are handled, but if they are never accustomed to have their legs and feet touchedwhile they are standing up, of course they may paw, or strike and kicklike a young horse; and if a camel is a striker, he is rather anawkward kind of a brute, but that is only the case with one in athousand. The Afghans not only persist in hobbling and unhobblingwhile the camels are lying down, but never think of taking the hobblesentirely off at all, as they unfasten the hobble from one leg and putboth on the other, so that the poor brutes always have to carry themon one leg when they are travelling. I quickly put a stop to this, butCoogee Mahomet exclaimed, "Oh, master! you mustn't take off a hobble, camel he keek, he keek, you mustn't. " To which I replied, "Let himkick, and I hope he will kick you to death first, so that there willbe one Afghan less in the world, but every hobble shall come off everycamel every day. " This Coogee was a most amusing though lazy, indolentbeggar. He never ceased to brag of what he could make camels do; hewished to ingratiate himself with me in the hope I would take him withme, but I had already determined to have only one of his countrymen. He said if he came with me he could make the camels go 200, 300, 400or 500 miles with heavy loads without water, by just talking to themin his language. He used to say, "You know, master, camel he know me, and my countrymen; camel he un'stand my language, he no likeEnglishman, Englishman, he no un'stand riding camel, he no un'standloading camel, only my countryman he un'stand camel, " etc. , etc. ; butwith all his bragging about the camels going so long without water, when we had been only four days gone from Beltana, Saleh and Coogeehad held a council and decided that I must be remonstrated with, inconsequence of my utter ignorance, stupidity, and reckless treatmentof the camels. Accordingly on the fourth morning, the weather havingbeen delightfully cool and the camels not requiring any water, Coogeecame to me and said, "Master, when you water camel?" "What?" I saidwith unfeigned astonishment, "Water the camels? I never heard of sucha thing, they will get no water until they reach Port Augusta. " Thiscompletely upset Mr. Coogee, and he replied, "What! no water till PortGusta? camel he can't go, camel he always get water three, four timefrom Beltana to Port Gusta. " "Well, " I said, "Coogee, they will getnone now with me till they walk to Port Augusta for it. " Then Coogeesaid, "Ah! Mr. Gile, you very smart master, you very clever man, onlyyou don't know camel, you'll see you'll kill all Sir Thomas Eldercamel; you'll no get Perth, you and all you party, and all you cameldie; you'll see, you'll see; you no give poor camel water, camel hedie, then where you be?" I was rather annoyed and said, "You stupidass, it was only yesterday you said you could take camels, 300, 400, 500 miles without water, with heavy loads, and now they have no loadsand we have only come about seventy miles, you say they will die if Idon't give them water. How is it that all your countrymen continuallybrag of what camels can do, and yet, when they have been only threedays without water, you begin to cry out that they want it?"

To this he only condescended to reply, "Ah! ah! you very clever, you'll see. " Of course the camels went to the port just as wellwithout water as with it. Alec Ross overtook us on the road, andbrought a special little riding-camel (Reechy) for me. I got rid ofMr. Coogee before we arrived at the port. We remained a little over aweek, as all the loads had to be arranged and all the camels'pack-saddles required re-arranging. Saleh and another of hiscountryman who happened to be there, worked hard at this, while therest of the party arranged the loads. 

While at Port Augusta, Mr. Charles Roberts, who had been with me, andwith whom I left all the horses at Youldeh, arrived, by the usual roadand brought me a young black boy, Master Tommy Oldham, with whom I hadtravelled to Eucla from Fowler's Bay with the three horses that haddied on my journey to Beltana. He was very sorry to hear of the lossof Chester and Formby, the latter having been his riding-horse. OldJimmy was immensely delighted to meet one of his own people in astrange place. Tommy was a great acquisition to the party, he was avery nice little chap, and soon became a general favourite. 

Everything being at length ready, the equipment of the expedition wasmost excellent and capable. Sir Thomas had sent me from Adelaideseveral large pairs of leather bags, one to be slung on each side of acamel; all our minor, breakable, and perishable articles were thussecure from wet or damp. In several of these large bags I had woodenboxes at the bottom, so that all books, papers, instruments, glass, etc. , were safe. At starting the loads were rather heavy, thelightest-weighted camels carrying two bags of flour, cased in raw-hidecovers, the two bags weighing about 450 pounds, and a large tarpaulinabout 60 pounds on top, or a couple of empty casks or other gear, which did not require to be placed inside the leather bags. The waythe camels' loads are placed by the Afghan camel-men is differentfrom, and at first surprising to persons accustomed to, pack-horseloads. For instance, the two bags of flour are carried asperpendicularly as possible. As a general rule, it struck me the waythey arranged the loads was absurd, as the whole weight comes down onthe unfortunate animal's loins; they use neither bags nor trunks, buttie up almost every article with pieces of rope. 

My Afghan, Saleh, was horrified at the fearful innovations I made uponhis method. I furnished the leather bags with broad straps to sustainthem, having large rings and buckles to pass them through and fastenin the ordinary way of buckle and strap; this had the effect of makingthe loads in the bags and trunks lie as horizontally as possible alongthe sides of the pads of the pack-saddles. Saleh still wanted toencumber them with ropes, so that they could not be opened withoutuntying about a thousand knots. I would not permit such a violation ofmy ideas, and told him the loads should be carried as they stood uponthe ground; his argument always was, a la Coogee Mahomet, "Camel hecan't carry them that way, " to which I invariably replied, "Camel hemust and camel he shall, " and the consequence was that camel he did. 

When we left Port Augusta, I had fifteen pack- or baggage-camels andseven riding ones. The two blacks, Jimmy and Tommy, rode on oneanimal, while the others had a riding-camel each. The weight of theloads of the baggage-camels on leaving, averaged 550 pounds all round. All the equipment and loads being in a proper state, and all the menand camels belonging to the new expedition for Perth being ready, weleft Port Augusta on the 23rd of May, 1875, but only travelled aboutsix miles, nearly west-north-west, to a place called Bowman's or theChinaman's Dam, where there was plenty of surface water, and goodbushes for the camels; here we encamped for the night. A few duckswhich incautiously floated too near fell victims to our sportsmen. Thefollowing day we passed Mr. Bowman's station, had some dinner withhim, and got a fat sheep from one of his paddocks. On the 25th weencamped close to a station in the neighbourhood of Euro Bluff, a hillthat exists near the south-western extremity of Lake Torrens; we nowtravelled about north-north-west up Lake Torrens, upon the opposite orwestern side to that on which we had lately travelled down, to PortAugusta, as I wished to reach a watercourse (the Elizabeth), where Iheard there was water. On the 28th of May we encamped on the banks ofPernatty Creek, where we obtained a few wild ducks; the country herewas very good, being open salt-bush country. The next morning we metand passed a Government Survey party, under the command of Mr. Brooks, who was engaged in a very extensive trigonometrical survey. In an houror two after, we passed Mr. Bowman's Pernatty cattle-station; therewas no one at home but a dog, and the appearance of the camels seemedto strike him dumb. There were some nice little sheets of water in thecreek-bed, but scarcely large enough to be permanent. The country wasnow a sort of stony plateau, having low, flat-topped, tent-shapedtable-lands occurring at intervals all over it; it was quite open, andno timber existed except upon the banks of the watercourses. 

On the 30th of May we reached the Elizabeth; there was an old hut ortwo, but no people were now living there. The water was at a very lowebb. We got a few ducks the first day we arrived. As some work had tobe done to the water-casks to enable us to carry them better, weremained here until the 2nd of June. The Elizabeth comes from thetable-lands near the shores of Lake Torrens to the north-eastward andfalls into the northern end of Pernatty Lagoon. Here we were almost asfar north as when at Beltana, our latitude being 31 degrees 10' 30". The weather was now, and had been for several weeks--indeed ever sincethe thunderstorm which occurred the day we came upon the clay-channelwater--very agreeable; the nights cold but dewless. When at PortAugusta, I heard that a Mr. Moseley was out somewhere to the west ofthe Elizabeth, well-sinking, on a piece of country he had lately takenup, and that he was camped at or near some rain-water. I was anxiousto find out where he was; on the 31st of May I sent Alec Ross on theonly track that went west, to find if any water existed at a place Ihad heard of about twenty-five miles to the west, and towards whichthe only road from here led. Alec had not been gone long, when hereturned with Mr. Moseley, who happened to be coming to the Elizabethen route for Port Augusta. He camped with us that night. He informedme his men obtained water at some clay-pans, called Coondambo, nearthe edge of Lake Gairdner, another large salt depression similar toLake Torrens, and that by following his horses' tracks they wouldlead, first to a well where he had just succeeded in obtaining waterat a depth of eighty-five feet, and thence, in seven miles farther, tothe Coondambo clay-pans. I was very glad to get this information, aseven from Coondambo the only water to the west beyond it, that I knewof, was Wynbring, at a distance of 160 or 170 miles. 

Leaving the Elizabeth on June the 2nd, we went sixteen miles nearlywest, to a small clay water-hole, where we encamped. On the 3rd wetravelled twenty-five miles nearly west, passing a desertedsheep-station belonging to Mr. Litchfield about the middle of the day;the country was very poor, being open, bare, stony ground, withoccasional low, flat-topped table-lands, covered very sparsely withsalsolaceous vegetation. We next arrived at the north-east corner ofLake Hart, and proceeded nearly west along its northern shore; thenceby the southern shores of Lakes Hanson and Younghusband, all saltlakes, where one of the party must have been taken ill, for hesuddenly broke out into a doggerel rhyme, remarking that:--

 "We went by Lake Hart, which is laid on the chart, And by the Lake Younghusband too; We next got a glance on, the little Lake Hanson, And wished. .. "

Goodness only knows what he wished, but the others conveyed to himtheir wish that he should discontinue such an infliction on them. 

On June the 6th we arrived at the place where Mr. Moseley had justfinished his well; but his men had deserted the spot and gonesomewhere else, to put down another shaft to the north-eastwards. Thewell was between eighty and ninety feet deep, the water whitish butgood; here we encamped on a bushy sort of flat. The next morning, following some horse tracks about south-west, they took us to theCoondambo clay-pans; the water was yellow and very thick, but therewas plenty of it for all our purposes, though I imagined it would notlast Mr. Moseley and his men very long. Two or three of his horseswere running at this water; here were several large shallow, cane-grass clay flats which are also occasionally filled withrain-water, they and Coondambo being situated close to the northernshore of Lake Gairdner. 

We left Coondambo on the 8th; on the 9th rain pretended to fall, andwe were kept in camp during the day, as a slight spitting fell, butwas totally useless. On the 11th we encamped again near LakeGairdner's shore; this was the last we should see of it. Our latitudehere was 31 degrees 5', and longitude 135 degrees 30' 10". We had seenno water since leaving Coondambo, from whence we carried a quantity ofthe thick yellow fluid, which curdled disagreeably when made into tea, the sugar having the chemical property of precipitating the sediment. We were again in a scrubby region, and had been since leavingCoondambo. Our course was now nearly north-north-west for sixteen orseventeen miles, where we again camped in scrubs. The following day wegot to a low rocky hill, or rather several hills, enveloped in thescrub; there were numerous small indentations upon the face of therocks, and we got some water for the camels, though they had to climball over the rocks to get it, as there was seldom more than three orfour gallons in any indent. We got some pure water for ourselves, andwere enabled to dispense with the yellow clayey fluid we had carried. From these hills we travelled nearly west-north-west until, on the15th, we fell in with my former tracks in April, when travelling fromWynbring. Old Jimmy was quite pleased to find himself again in countrywhich he knew something about. We could again see the summit of MountFinke. The only water I knew of in this wretched country being atWynbring, I determined to follow my old route. On the 16th we passed aplace where we had formerly seen a small portion of bare rock, andnow, in consequence of the late sprinkling showers on the 9th and10th, there were a few thimblefuls of water on it. This set Jimmy intoa state of excitement; he gesticulated and talked to Tommy in theirlanguage at a great rate, and Tommy said, "Ah, if you found waterhere, when you come before, Chester and Formby wouldn't die. " "Well, "I said, "Tommy, I don't see much water here to keep anything alive, even if it had been here then. " He only sapiently shook his head andsaid, "But if you got plenty water then that's all right. " I foundTommy's arguments were exactly similar to those of all other blackboys I have known, exceedingly comical, but all to their own way ofthinking. 

Soon after this, I was riding in advance along the old track, when oldJimmy came running up behind my camel in a most excited state, andsaid, "Hi, master, me find 'im, big one watta, plenty watta, mucka(not) pickaninny (little); this way, watta go this way, " pointing to aplace on our left. I waited until the caravan appeared through thescrub, then old Jimmy led us to the spot he had found. There was asmall area of bare rock, but it was too flat to hold any quantity ofwater, though some of the fluid was shining on it; there was onlyenough for two or three camels, but I decided to camp therenevertheless. What water there was, some of the camels licked up in notime, and went off to feed. They seemed particularly partial to a lowpale-green-foliaged tree with fringelike leaves, something like fennelor asparagus. I have often gathered specimens of this in formerjourneys, generally in the most desert places. The botanical name ofthis tree is Gyrostemon ramulosus. After hobbling out the camels, andsitting down to dinner, we became aware of the absence of Mr. JessYoung, and I was rather anxious as to what had become of him, as a newarrival from England adrift in these scrubs would be very liable tolose himself. However, I had not much fear for Mr. Young, as, havingbeen a sailor, and carrying a compass, he might be able to recover us. Immediately after our meal I was going after him, but before it wasfinished he came, without his camel, and said he could not get her on, so had tied her up to a tree and walked back, he having gone a longway on my old tracks. I sent Tommy and another riding-camel with him, and in a couple of hours they returned with Mr. Young's animal. 

The following morning, the 17th, much to my distress, one of our youngbull camels was found to be poisoned, and could not move. We made himsick with hot butter and gave him a strong clyster. Both operationsproduced the same substance, namely, a quantity of the chewed anddigested Gyrostemon; indeed, the animal apparently had nothing else inhis inside. He was a trifle better by night, but the followingmorning, my best bull, Mustara, that had brought me through thisregion before, was poisoned, and couldn't move. I was now very sorry Ihad camped at this horrid place. We dosed Mustara with butter as anemetic, and he also threw up nothing but the chewed Gyrostemon; theclyster produced the same. It was evident that this plant has a verypoisonous effect on the camels, and I was afraid some of them woulddie. I was compelled to remain here another day. The first camelpoisoned had got a little better, and I hoped the others would escape;but as they all seemed to relish the poisonous plant so much untilthey felt the effects, and as there were great quantities of itgrowing on the sandhills, I was in great anxiety during the whole day. On the 19th I was glad to find no fresh cases, though the two camelsthat had suffered were very weak and afflicted with spasmodicstaggerings. We got them away, though they were scarcely able to carrytheir loads, which we lightened as much as possible; anything wasbetter than remaining here, as others might get affected. 

On this day's march we passed the spot where I had put the horse'spacksaddle in the sandal-wood-tree, and where my first horse had givenin. The saddle was now of no use, except that the two pads, beingstuffed with horsehair, made cushions for seats of camels'riding-saddles; these we took, but left the frame in the tree again. That night we camped about five miles from Mount Finke, and I was gladto find that the two poisoned bulls had greatly recovered. 

The following day, Mr. Young and I ascended Mount Finke, and put up asmall pile of stones upon its highest point. The weather, now cool andagreeable, was so different from that which I had previouslyexperienced upon this dreadful mount. Upon that visit the whole regionwas in an intense glow of heat, but now the summer heats were past;the desolate region around was enjoying for a few weeks only, a slightrespite from the usual fiery temperature of the climate of this partof the world; but even now the nature of the country was so terribleand severe, the sandhills so high, and the scrub so thick, that allthe new members of the party expressed their astonishment at our everhaving got out of it alive. This mountain, as before stated, isforty-five miles from Wynbring. On the 22nd of June, just as we got insight of the rock, some heavy showers of rain descended; it came downso fast that the camels could drink the water right at their feet, andthey all got huddled up together in a mob, breaking their nose-ropes, some laying down to enable them to drink easier, as loaded camels, having a breast-rope from the saddles, cannot put their heads to theground without hurting, and perhaps cutting, themselves. The rainceased for a bit, and we made off to my old camp, and got everythingunder canvas just as another heavy shower came down. Of course therock-hole was full to overflowing, and water was lying about in alldirections. During the 23rd several smart showers fell, and we wereconfined to our canvas habitations for nearly the whole day. 

As this spot was so excellent for all kinds of animals, I gave myfriends a couple of days' rest, in the first place because they hadhad such poor feeding places for several nights before our arrivalhere, and I also wished, if possible, to meet again with the Wynbringnatives, and endeavour to find out from them whether any other watersexisted in this country. Old Jimmy, when he discovered, through TommyOldham, what I wanted the natives for, seemed surprised and annoyedthat I should attempt to get information from them while he was withme in his own territories. He said he would take me to several watersbetween here and Youldeh, by a more northerly route than he hadpreviously shown; he said that water existed at several places whichhe enumerated on his fingers; their names were Taloreh, Edoldeh, Cudyeh, Yanderby, Mobing, Bring, Poothraba, Pondoothy, and Youldeh. Iwas very glad to hear of all these places, and hoped we should findthey were situated in a more hospitable country than that throughwhich we had formerly come. On the 25th Mr. Young shot an emu, and wehad fried steaks, which we all relished. Saleh being a good Mussulman, was only just (if) in time to run up and cut the bird's throat beforeit died, otherwise his religious scruples would have prevented himfrom eating any of it. All the meat he did eat, which was smoked beef, had been killed in the orthodox Mohammedan style, either by himself orone of his co-religionists at Beltana. It was cured and carried onpurpose. None of the natives I had formerly seen, or any others, madetheir appearance, and the party were disappointed by not seeing thecharming young Polly, my description of whom had greatly raised theircuriosity. 

(ILLUSTRATION: WYNBRING ROCK. )

On the 26th of June we departed from the pretty little oasis ofWynbring, leaving its isolated and water-giving rock, in the silenceand solitude of its enveloping scrubs, abandoning it once again, tothe occupation of primeval man, a fertile little gem in a desolatewaste, where the footsteps of the white man had never been seen untilI came, where the wild emu, and the wilder black man, continuallyreturn to its life-sustaining rock, where the aboriginal inhabitantswill again and again indulge in the wild revelries of the midnightcorroborree dance, and where, in an existence totally distinct fromours of civilisation, men and women live and love, and eat and drink, and sleep and die. But the passions are the same in all phases of thelife of the human family, the two great master motives, of love andhunger, being the mainspring of all the actions of mankind. 

Wynbring was now behind us, and Jimmy once more our guide, philosopher, and friend. He seemed much gratified at again becoming animportant member of the expedition, and he and Tommy, both upon thesame riding-camel, led the way for us, through the scrubs, in thedirection of about west-north-west. In seven or eight miles we came toa little opening in the scrub, where Jimmy showed us some bare flatrocks, wherein was a nearly circular hole brimful of water. It was, however, nearly full also of the debris of ages, as a stick could bepoked into mud or dirt for several feet below the water, and it wasimpossible to say what depth it really was; but at the best it couldnot contain more than 200 or 300 gallons. This was Taloreh. Proceedingtowards the next watering-place, which old Jimmy said was close up, ina rather more northerly direction, we found it was getting late, as wehad not left Wynbring until after midday; we therefore had to encampin the scrubs, having come about fifteen miles. It is next toimpossible to make an old fool of a black fellow understand the valueof the economy of time. I wanted to come on to Edoldeh, and so did oldJimmy; but he made out that Edoldeh was close to Taloreh, and everymile we went it was still close up, until it got so late I ordered theparty to camp, where there was little or nothing that the camels couldeat. Of course it was useless to try and make Jimmy understand that, having thousands of miles to travel with the camels, it was a greatobject to me to endeavour to get them bushes or other food that theycould eat, so as to keep them in condition to stand the long journeythat was before them. Camels, although exceedingly ravenous animals, will only eat what they like, and if they can't get that, will liedown all night and starve, if they are too short-hobbled to allow themto wander, otherwise they will ramble for miles. It was thereforeannoying the next morning to find plenty of good bushes at Edoldeh, two miles and a half from our wretched camp, and whither we might havecome so easily the night before. To-day, however, I determined to keepon until we actually did reach the next oasis; this Jimmy said wasCudyeh, and was of course still close up. We travelled two and a halfmiles to Edoldeh, continued eighteen miles beyond it, and reachedCudyeh early in the afternoon. This place was like most of the littleoases in the desert; it was a very good place for a camp, one singularfeature about it being that it consisted of a flat bare rock of somearea, upon which were several circular and elliptical holes in variousplaces. The rock lay in the lowest part of the open hollow, andwhenever rain fell in the neighbourhood, the water all ran down to it. In consequence of the recent rains, the whole area of rock was twofeet under water, and the extraordinary holes or wells that existedthere looked like antediluvian cisterns. Getting a long stick, andwading through the water to the mouths of these cisterns, we foundthat, like most other reservoirs in a neglected native state, theywere almost full of soil and debris, and the deepest had only aboutthree feet of water below the surface of the rock. Some of these holesmight be very deep, or they might be found to be permanent wells ifcleaned out. 

Next day we passed another little spot called Yanderby, with rockwater, at ten miles; thence in three more we came to Mobing, a muchbetter place than any of the others: indeed I thought it superior toWynbring. It lies about north 62 degrees west from Wynbring and isfifty miles from it; the latitude of Mobing is 30 degrees 10' 30". Atthis place there was a large, bare, rounded rock, very similar toWynbring, except that no rock-holes to hold any surface water existed;what was obtainable being in large native wells sunk at the foot ofthe rock, and brimful of water. I believe a good supply might beobtained here. There were plenty of good bushes in the neighbourhoodfor the camels, and we had an excellent camp at Mobing. As usual, thisoasis consisted merely of an open space, lightly timbered with themulga acacia amongst the sandhills and the scrubs. 

The day after, we were led by old Jimmy to a small salt lake-bedcalled Bring, which was dry; it lay about south-west from Mobing. Round at the southern shore of this lake Jimmy showed us a smallrock-hole, with a few dozen gallons of water in it. In consequence ofMr. Young not being well, we encamped, the distance from Mobing beingnine miles. This also was a rather pretty camp, and excellent for thecamels. Towards evening some light showers of rain fell, and we had toerect our tarpaulins and tents, which we only do in times of rain. More showers fell the next day, and we did not shift our quarters. Avery shallow sheet of water now appeared upon the surface of the lakebed, but it was quite salt. We made some little dams with clay, wherethe water ran into the lake, and saved enough water to indulge in asort of bath with the aid of buckets and waterproof sheeting. This wasthe last day of June. Unfortunately, though Chairman of the Company, Iwas unable to declare a dividend for the half-year. 

The 1st of July broke with a fine and beautiful morning, and we leftLake Bring none the worse for our compulsory delay. I was anxious toreach Youldeh so soon as possible, as I had a great deal of work to dowhen I arrived there. To-day we travelled nearly west seventeen oreighteen miles, and encamped without an oasis. On the 2nd we passedtwo rocky hills, named respectively Pondoothy and Poothraba, Pondoothywas an indented rock-crowned hill in the scrubs. Standing on itssummit I descried an extraordinary line cut through the scrubs, whichran east by north, and was probably intended by the natives for a trueeast line. The scrub timber was all cut away, and it looked like asurvey line. Upon asking old Jimmy what it was done for, and what itmeant, he gave the usual reply, that Cockata black fellow make 'em. Itwas somewhat similar to the path I had seen cleared at Pylebung inMarch last, and no doubt it is used for a similar purpose. Leavingthis hill and passing Poothraba, which is in sight of it, we continuedour nearly west course, and camped once more in the scrubs. Thecountry was very difficult for the loaded camels, it rose into suchhigh ridges or hills of sand that we could only traverse it at asnail's pace. It was of course still covered with scrubs, whichconsisted here, as all over this region, mostly of the Eucalyptusdumosa, or mallee-trees, of a very stunted habit; occasionally somepatches of black oaks as we call them, properly casuarinas, withclumps of mulga in the hollows, here and there a stunted cypress pine, callitris, some prickly hakea bushes, and an occasional so callednative poplar, Codonocarpus cotinifolius, a brother or sister tree tothe poisonous Gyrostemon. The native poplar is a favourite andharmless food for camels, and as it is of the same family as theGyrostemon, my friend Baron von Mueller argues that I must be mistakenin the poison plant which affected the camels. He thinks it must be aplant of the poisonous family of the Euphorbiaceae, and whichcertainly grows in these regions, and which I have collected specimensof, but I cannot detect it. 

We were now nearly in the latitude of Youldeh, and had only to pushwest to reach it; but the cow camel that Jimmy and Tommy rode, beingvery near calving, had not travelled well for some days, and gave agood deal of trouble to find her of a morning. I wished to get her toYouldeh before she calved, as I intended to form a depot there for afew weeks, during which time I hoped the calf would become strongenough to travel. On the morning of the 5th, only about half the mobwere brought up to the camp, and, as Mr. Tietkens' and my ridingcamels were amongst them, we rode off to Youldeh, seven or eight milesaway, telling the others to come on as soon as they could. Mr. Young, Saleh, and Tommy were away after the absent animals. On arriving Ifound Youldeh much the same as when I left it, only now the weatherwas cool, and the red sandhills, that had formerly almost burnt thefeet of men and animals, were slightly encrusted with a lightglittering mantle of hoar-frost in the shaded places, under the bigleguminous bushes, for that morning Herr Gabriel Daniel Fahrenheit hadfallen to 28 degrees. My old slabbed well had got filled up with sand, and it was evident that many natives had visited the place since Ileft on the 24th of March, 103 days ago. We managed to water ourcamels, as they lay down on the top of the well, and stretched theirlong necks down into it. We then quietly waited till long past middayfor the caravan to come up. We had nothing to do, and nothing to eat;we could not dig out the well, for we had no shovel. At last Mr. Tietkens got alarmed at the non-arrival of the party, and he went backto the camp, taking my riding-camel with him, as she would not remainquiet by herself. I remained there mighty hungry, and made some blacksmoke to endeavour to attract any natives that might be in theneighbourhood. I have before remarked that the natives can makedifferent coloured smokes, of different form, and make them ascend indifferent ways, each having a separate meaning: hurried alarm, andsignal fires are made to throw up black and white smokes. No signalswere returned, and I sat upon a sandhill, like Patience on a monument, and thought of the line, "That sitting alone with my conscience, isjudgment sufficient for me. " I could not perceive any dust or sand ofthe approaching caravan; darkness began to creep over this solitaryplace and its more solitary occupant. I thought I had better sleep, though I had no bedding, to pass the time away till morning. I coiledmyself up under a bush and fell into one of those extraordinary wakingdreams which occasionally descend upon imaginative mortals, when weknow that we are alive, and yet we think we are dead; when a confusedjumble of ideas sets the mind "peering back into the vistas of thememories of yore, " and yet also foreshadowing the images of futurethings upon the quivering curtains of the mental eye. At such a timethe imagination can revel only in the marvellous, the mysterious, andthe mythical. The forms of those we love are idealised andspiritualised into angelic shapes. The faces of those we haveforgotten long, or else perchance have lost, once more return, seraphic from the realms of light. The lovely forms and winning gracesof children gone, the witching eyes and alluring smiles of women wehave loved, the beautiful countenances of beloved and admired youth, once more we seem to see; the youthful hands we have clasped so oftenin love and friendship in our own, once more we seem to press, unchanged by time, unchanged by fate, beckoning to us lovingly tofollow them, still trying with loving caress and youthful smiles tolead us to their shadowy world beyond. O youth, beautiful and undying, the sage's dream, the poet's song, all that is loving and lovely, iscentred still in thee! O lovely youth, with thine arrowy form, andslender hands, thy pearly teeth, and saintly smile, thy pleading eyesand radiant hair; all, all must worship thee. And if in waking hoursand daily toil we cannot always greet thee, yet in our dreams you areour own. As the poet says:--

 "In dreams you come as things of light and lightness! We hear your voice in still small accents tell, Of realms of bliss and never-fading brightness, Where those who loved on earth together dwell. "

Then, while lying asleep, engrossed by these mysterious influences andimpressions, I thought I heard celestial sounds upon mine ear;vibrating music's rapturous strain, as though an heavenly choir werenear, dispensing melody and pain. As though some angels swept thestrings, of harps ethereal o'er me hung, and fann'd me, as withseraph's wings, while thus the voices sweetly sung: "Be bold of heart, be strong of will, for unto thee by God is given, to roam the desertpaths of earth, and thence explore the fields of heaven. Be bold ofheart, be strong of will, and naught on earth shall lay thee low. "When suddenly I awoke, and found that the party with all the camelshad arrived, my fire was relit, and the whole place lately so silentwas now in a bustle. I got up, and looked about me in astonishment, asI could not at first remember where I was. But I soon discovered thatthe musical sounds I had heard were the tintinabulations of mycamel-bells, tinkling in the evening air, as they came closer andcloser over the sandhills to the place where I lay dreaming, and mysenses returned at length to their ordinary groove. 

We were safely landed at the Youldeh depot once more; and upon thewhole I may say we had had an agreeable journey from Port Augusta. Jimmy and Tommy's cow calved soon after arrival. I was glad to findshe had delayed; now the calf will be allowed to live, as she will behere for some little time. On the following morning I christened thecalf Youldeh, after her birthplace; she was not much bigger than acat. On the 6th, 7th, and 8th, we all remained in depot, doing variouskinds of work, re-digging and re-slabbing the well, making two largecanvas troughs for the camels to drink out of, making some covers andalterations to some water-beds I had for carrying water, and manyother things. I had some camels to deliver at Fowler's Bay, and someprivate business, necessary to be done before a magistrate, whichcompelled me personally to return thither; otherwise I should havegone away to the north to endeavour to discover another depot in thatdirection. But now I committed this piece of work to my two officers, Messrs. Tietkens and Young, while Alec Ross and I went south to theBay. Both parties started from Youldeh on the 9th. I took old Jimmywith me to return him, with thanks, to his family. Tietkens and Youngtook Tommy with them, as that young gentleman had no desire whateverto return or to leave me. Between ourselves, when I first got him inFebruary, I had caused him to commit some very serious breaches ofaboriginal law, for he was then on probation and not allowed to comenear women or the blacks' camp. He was also compelled to wear a greatchignon, which made him look more like a girl than a boy. This I cutoff and threw away, much to the horror of the elders of his tribe, who, if they could catch, would inflict condign punishment upon him. When he and old Jimmy met at Port Augusta, and Jimmy saw him withouthis chignon and other emblems of novice-hood, that old gentlemantalked to him like a father; but Tommy, knowing he had me to throw theblame on, quietly told the old man in plain English to go to blazes. The expression on old Jimmy's face at thus being flouted by a blackboy, was indescribable; he thought it his duty to persecute Tommystill farther, but now Tommy only laughed at him and said I made himdo it, so old Jimmy gave him up at last as a bad job. Poor old fellow, he was always talking about his wife and children; I was to have Mary, and Peter Nicholls Jinny. Alec, Jimmy, and I reached the bay on the14th, but at Colona, on the 12th, we heard there had been a sadepidemic amongst the natives since I left, and poor old Jimmy had losttwo of his children, both Mary and Jinny. When he heard this, the poorold fellow cried, and looked at me, as much as to say if I had nottaken him away he might have saved them. It was but poor consolationto tell him, what he could not understand, that those whom the godslove die young. I suffered another loss, as a bright little black boycalled Fry, a great favourite of mine, with splendid eyes and teeth, whom I had intended to bring with me as a companion for Tommy, wasalso dead. I parted from old Jimmy the best of friends, but he waslike Rachael weeping for her children, and would not be comforted. Igave him money and presents, and dresses for his wife, and anything heasked for, but this was not very much. 

Our stay at Fowler's Bay was not extended longer than I could help. Mr. Armstrong, the manager, made me a present of a case of brandy, andas I wanted to take some stores to Youldeh, he allowed me to take backthe camels I had brought him, and sent a man of his--Richard Dorey--toaccompany me to Youldeh, and there take delivery of them. 

On the 17th we left the bay, and the spindrift and the spray of theSouthern Ocean, with the glorious main expanding to the skies. Westayed at Colona with Mr. Murray a couple of days, and finally left iton the 21st, arriving with Dorey and his black boy at Youldeh on the25th. 

Tommy Oldham's father had also died of the epidemic at the bay. Richard Dorey's black boy broke the news to him very gently, whenTommy came up to me and said, "Oh, Mr. Giles, my"--adjective [not]blooming--"old father is dead too. " I said, "Is that how you talk ofyour poor old father, Tommy, now that he is dead?" To this he replied, much in the same way as some civilised sons may often have done, "Well, I couldn't help it!"

I have stated that when I went south with Alec Ross to Fowler's Bay Idespatched my two officers, Mr. Tietkens and Mr. Young, with my blackboy Tommy, to endeavour to discover a new depot to the north, at or asnear to the 29th parallel of latitude as possible. When I returnedfrom the bay they had returned a day or two before, having discoveredat different places two native wells, a small native dam, and someclay-pans, each containing water. This was exceedingly good news, andI wasted no time before I departed from Youldeh. I gave my letters toRichard Dorey, who had accompanied me back from Fowler's Bay. I willgive my readers a condensation of Mr. Tietkens's report of his journeywith Mr. Young and Tommy. 

On leaving Youldeh, in latitude 30 degrees 24' 10" and longitude 131degrees 46'--they took four camels, three to ride and one to carrywater, rations, blankets, etc. --they went first to the small rock-holeI had visited with Mr. Murray and old Jimmy, when here in the summer. This lay about north 74 degrees west, was about fourteen milesdistant, and called Paring. Tommy followed our old horse-tracks, buton arrival found it dry. The following day they travelled north, andpassed through a country of heavy sandhills and thick scrubs, havingoccasional open patches with limestone cropping out, and camped attwenty-four miles. Continuing their journey the next morning, theywent over better and more open country, and made twenty-four or -fivemiles of northing. Some more good country was seen the following day, but no water, although they saw native tracks and native huts. Thenext day they sighted two small flat-topped hills and found a nativewell in their neighbourhood; this, however, did not promise a verygood supply of water. The views obtainable from the little hills werenot very inviting, as scrubs appeared to exist in nearly everydirection. This spot was eighty-two miles from Youldeh, and lay nearlynorth 10 degrees west. They continued north for another twenty-fivemiles, to latitude 28 degrees 52' and longitude about 131 degrees 31', when they turned to the south-west for eighteen miles, finding a smallnative dam with some water in it; then, turning slightly to the northof west, they found some clay-pans with a little more water. They nowwent forty-four miles nearly west from the little dam, and, althoughthe country seemed improving, they could discover no more water. Fromtheir farthest westerly point in latitude 28 degrees 59' they turnedupon a bearing of south 55 degrees east direct for the native wellfound near the little flat-topped hills before mentioned. In theirprogress upon this line they entered, at forty-five miles and straightbefore them, upon a small open flat space very well grassed, and verypretty, and upon it they found another native well, and saw somenatives, with whom they held a sort of running conversation. Therewere several wells, all containing water. Tommy managed to elicit fromthe natives the name of the place, which they said was Ooldabinna. This seemed a very fortunate discovery, as the first well found nearthe flat tops was by no means a good one. Here they encamped, beinghighly pleased with their successful journey. They had now found a newdepot, ninety-two miles, lying north 20 degrees west from Youldeh. From hence they made a straight line back to the camp, where theyawaited my return from the bay. 

I was much pleased with their discovery, and on Tuesday, the 27thJuly, having nineteen camels and provisions for eight months, and aperfect equipment for carrying water, we left Youldeh. Richard Dorey, with his camels and black boy, went away to the south. My caravandeparted in a long single string to the north, and Youldeh and theplace thereof knew us no more. 

CHAPTER 4. 2. FROM 27TH JULY TO 6TH OCTOBER, 1875. 

Ooldabinna depot. Tietkens and Young go north. I go west. A salt expanse. Dense scrubs. Deposit two casks of water. Silence and solitude. Native footmarks. A hollow. Fine vegetation. A native dam. Anxiety. A great plain. A dry march. Return to the depot. Rain. My officers' report. Depart for the west. Method of travelling. Kill a camel. Reach the dam. Death or victory. Leave the dam. The hazard of the die. Five days of scrubs. Enter a plain. A terrible journey. Saleh prays for a rock-hole. A dry basin at 242 miles. Watering camels in the desert. Seventeen days without water. Saved. Tommy finds a supply. The Great Victoria Desert. The Queen's Spring. Farther still west. 

On leaving Youldeh I had the choice of first visiting the native wellmy two officers had found at the flat tops, eighty-two miles, or thefurther one at Ooldabinna, which was ninety-two. I decided to gostraight for the latter. The weather was cool, and the camels couldeasily go that distance without water. Their loads were heavy, averaging now 550 pounds all round. The country all the way consistedfirst, of very high and heavy sandhills, with mallee scrubs and thickspinifex, with occasional grassy flats between, but at one place weactually crossed a space of nearly ten miles of open, good grassylimestone country. We travelled very slowly over this region. Therewas a little plant, something like mignonette, which the camels wereextremely fond of; we met it first on the grassy ground justmentioned, and when we had travelled from fifteen to eighteen milesand found some of it we camped. It took us five days and a half toreach Ooldabinna, and by the time we arrived there I had travelled1010 miles from Beltana on all courses. I found Ooldabinna to consistof a small, pretty, open space amongst the scrubs; it was just dottedover with mulga-trees, and was no doubt a very favourite resort of thenative owners. 

On the flat there was a place where for untold ages the natives haveobtained their water supplies. There were several wells, but myexperience immediately informed me that they were simply rockholesfilled with soil from the periodical rain-waters over the little flat, the holes lying in the lowest ground, and I perceived that the watersupply was very limited; fortunately, however, there was sufficientfor our immediate requirements. The camels were not apparently thirstywhen we arrived, but drank more the following day; this completelyemptied all the wells, and our supply then depended upon the soakage, which was of such a small volume that I became greatly disenchantedwith my new home. There was plenty of the mignonette plant, and thecamels did very well; I wanted water here only for a month, but itseemed probable it would not last a week. We deepened all the wells, and were most anxious watchers of the fluid as it slowly percolatedthrough the soil into the bottom of each. After I had been here twodays, and the water supply was getting gradually but surely less, Inaturally became most anxious to discover more, either in a west ornortherly direction; and I again sent my two officers, Messrs. Tietkens and Young, to the north, to endeavour to discover a supply inthat direction, while I determined to go myself to the west on asimilar errand. I was desirous, as were they, that my two officersshould share the honour of completing a line of discovery fromYouldeh, northwards to the Everard and Musgrave Ranges, and thusconnect those considerable geographical features with the coast-lineat Fowler's Bay; and I promised them if they were fortunate anddiscovered more water for a depot to the north, that they shouldfinish their line, whether I was successful to the west or not. This, ending at the Musgrave Ranges would form in itself a very interestingexpedition. Those ranges lay nearly 200 miles to the north. As theMusgrave Range is probably the highest in South Australia and acontinuous chain with the Everard Range, seventy or eighty miles thisside of it, I had every reason to expect that my officers would besuccessful in discovering a fresh depot up in a northerly direction. Their present journey, however, was only to find a new place to whichwe might remove, as the water supply might cease at any moment, as ateach succeeding day it became so considerably less. Otherwise this wasa most pleasant little oasis, with such herbage for the camels that itenabled them to do with very little water, after their first goodskinful. 

We arrived here on Sunday, the 1st of August, and both parties leftagain on the 4th. Mr. Tietkens and Mr. Young took only their ownriding and one baggage camel to carry water and other things; they hadthirty gallons of water and ten days' provisions, as I expected theywould easily discover water within less than 100 miles, when theywould immediately return, as it might be necessary for them to removethe whole camp from this place. I trusted all this to them, requestingthem, however, to hold out here as long as possible, as, if I returnedunsuccessful from the west, my camels might be unable to go anyfarther. 

I was sure that the region to the west was not likely to prove aGarden of Eden, and I thought it was not improbable that I might haveto go 200 miles before I found any water. If unsuccessful in that wayI should have precisely the same distance to come back again;therefore, with the probabilities of such a journey before me, Idetermined to carry out two casks of water to ninety or a hundredmiles, send some of the camels back from that point and push on withthe remainder. I took six excellent camels, three for riding and threefor carrying loads--two carrying thirty gallons of water each, and thethird provisions, rugs, gear, etc. I took Saleh, my only Afghancamel-man--usually they are called camel-drivers, but that is amisnomer, as all camels except riding ones must be led--and young AlecRoss; Saleh was to return with the camels from the place at which Ishould plant the casks, and Alec and I were to go on. The northernparty left on the same day, leaving Peter Nicholls, my cook, and Tommythe black boy, to look after the camels and camp. 

(ILLUSTRATION: LITTLE SALT LAKE. )

I will first give an outline of my journey to the west. The country, except in the immediate neighbourhood of the wells, was, as usual inthis region, all sandhills and scrub, although at eighteen miles, steering west, I came upon the shores of a large salt depression, orlake-bed, which had numerous sandhill islands scattered about it. Itappeared to extend to a considerable distance southerly. By digging weeasily obtained a quantity of water, but it was all pure brine andutterly useless. After this we met lake-bed after lake-bed, all in aregion of dense scrubs and sandhills for sixty miles, some were small, some large, though none of the size of the first one. At seventy-eightmiles from Ooldabinna, having come as near west as it is possible tosteer in such a country on a camel--of course I had a Gregory'scompass--we had met no signs of water fit for man or animal to drink, though brine and bog existed in most of the lake-beds. The scrubs werevery thick, and were chiefly mallee, the Eucalyptus dumosa, of courseattended by its satellite spinifex. So dense indeed was the growth ofthe scrubs, that Alec Ross declared, figuratively speaking, "you couldnot see your hand before you. " We could seldom get a view a hundredyards in extent, and we wandered on farther and farther from the onlyplace where we knew that water existed. At this distance, on theshores of a salt-lake, there was really a very pretty scene, though insuch a frightful desert. A high, red earthy bank fringed with featherymulga and bushes to the brink, overlooking the milk-white expanse ofthe lake, and all surrounded by a strip of open ground with the scrubsstanding sullenly back. The open ground looked green, but not withfertility, for it was mostly composed of bushes of the dull green, salty samphire. It was the weird, hideous, and demoniacal beauty ofabsolute sterility that reigned here. From this place I decided tosend Saleh back with two camels, as this was the middle of the fourthday. Saleh would have to camp by himself for at least two nightsbefore he could reach the depot, and the thought of such a thingalmost drove him distracted; I do not suppose he had ever camped outby himself in his life previously. He devoutly desired to continue onwith us, but go he must, and go he did. We, however, carried the twocasks that one of his camels had brought until we encamped for thefourth night, being now ninety miles from Ooldabinna. 

After Saleh left us we passed only one more salt lake, and then thecountry became entirely be-decked with unbroken scrub, while spinifexcovered the whole ground. The scrubs consisted mostly of mallee, withpatches of thick mulga, casuarinas, sandal-wood, not the sweet-scentedsandal-wood of commerce, which inhabits the coast country of WesternAustralia, and quandong trees, another species of the sandal-woodfamily. Although this was in a cool time of the year--namely, near theend of the winter--the heat in the day-time was considerable, as thethermometer usually stood as high as 96 degrees in the shade, it wasnecessary to completely shelter the casks from the sun; we thereforecut and fixed over them a thick covering of boughs and leaves, whichwas quite impervious to the solar ray, and if nothing disturbed themwhile we were absent, I had no fear of injury to the casks or of muchloss from evaporation. No traces of any human inhabitants were seen, nor were the usually ever-present, tracks of native game, or theircanine enemy the wild dingo, distinguishable upon the sands of thispreviously untrodden wilderness. The silence and the solitude of thismighty waste were appalling to the mind, and I almost regretted that Ihad sworn to conquer it. The only sound the ear could catch, as hourafter hour we slowly glided on, was the passage of our noiselesstreading and spongy-footed "ships" as they forced their way throughthe live and dead timber of the hideous scrubs. Thus we wandered on, farther from our camp, farther from our casks, and farther fromeverything we wished or required. A day and a half after Saleh leftus, at our sixth night's encampment, we had left Ooldabinna 140 milesbehind. I did not urge the camels to perform quick or extraordinarydaily journeys, for upon the continuance of their powers and strengthour own lives depended. When the camels got good bushes at night, theywould fill themselves well, then lie down for a sleep, and towardsmorning chew their cud. When we found them contentedly doing so weknew they had had good food. I asked Alec one morning, when he broughtthem to the camp, if he had found them feeding; he replied, "Oh, no, they were all lying down chewing their KID. " Whenever the camelslooked well after this we said, "Oh, they are all right, they've beenchewing their 'kid. '"

No water had yet been discovered, nor had any place where it couldlodge been seen, even if the latter rain itself descended upon us, except indeed in the beds of the salt-lakes, where it wouldimmediately have been converted into brine. On the seventh day of ourmarch we had accomplished fifteen miles, when our attention was drawnto a plot of burnt spinifex, surrounded by the recent foot-prints ofnatives. This set us to scan the country in every direction where anyview could be obtained. Alec Ross climbed a tree, and by the aid offield-glasses discovered the existence of a fall of country into akind of hollow, with an apparently broken piece of open grassy groundsome distance to the south-west. I determined to go to this spot, whatever might be the result, and proceeded towards it; aftertravelling five miles, and closely approaching it, I was disgusted tofind that it was simply the bed of a salt-lake, but as we saw numerousnative foot-prints and the tracks of emus, wild dogs, and othercreatures, both going to and coming from it, we went on until wereached its lonely shore. There was an open space all round it, withhere and there a few trees belonging to the surrounding scrubs thathad either advanced on to, or had not receded from the open ground. The bed of the lake was white, salty-looking, and dry; There was, however, very fine herbage round the shores and on the open ground. There was plenty of the little purple pea-vetch, the mignonette plant, and Clianthus Dampierii, or Sturt's desert-pea, and we turned our fourfine camels out to graze, or rather browse, upon whatever they choseto select, while we looked about in search of the water we felt suremust exist here. 

The day was warm for this time of year, the thermometer standing at 95degrees in the shade. But before we went exploring for water wethought it well to have some dinner. The most inviting looking spotwas at the opposite or southern end of the lake, which wasoval-shaped; we had first touched upon it at its northern end. AlecRoss walked over to inspect that, and any other likely places, while Idug wells in the bed of the lake. The soil was reasonably good andmoist, and on tasting it I could discover no taint of salt, nor hadthe surface the same sparkling incrustation of saline particles that Ihad noticed upon all the other lake-beds. At ten or eleven inches Ireached the bedrock, and found the soil rested upon a rotten kind ofbluish-green slate, but no water in the numerous holes I dug rewardedme, so I gave it up in despair and returned to the camp to awaitAlec's report of his wanderings. On the way I passed by some blackoak-trees near the margin, and saw where the natives had tapped theroots of most of them for water. This I took to be a very poor sign ofany other water existing here. I could see all round the lake, and ifAlec was unsuccessful there was no other place to search. Alec was along time away, and it was already late when he returned, but on hisarrival he rejoiced me with the intelligence that, having fallen inwith a lot of fresh native tracks, all trending round to the spot thatlooked so well from this side, he had followed them, and they led himto a small native clay-dam on a clay-pan containing a supply of yellowwater. This information was, however, qualified by the remark thatthere was not enough water there for the whole of our mob of camels, although there was plenty for our present number. We immediatelypacked up and went over to our new-found treasure. 

This spot is 156 miles straight from our last watering-place atOoldabinna. I was very much pleased with our discovery, though thequantity of water was very small, but having found some, we thought wemight find more in the neighbourhood. At that moment I believe if wehad had all our camels here they could all have had a good drink, butthe evaporation being so terribly rapid in this country, by the time Icould return to Ooldabinna and then get back here, the water would begone and the dam dry. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof"is, however, a maxim that explorers must very often be contented toabide by. Our camels got as much water as they chose to drink; theywere not very big animals, but I am sure 150 gallons was consumedamongst the four. They were hobbled out in the excellent herbage, which was better here than where we first outspanned them. There wassplendid grass as well as herbage, but camels seldom, if ever, touchit. The clianthus pea and the vetch pea they ate ravenously, and whenthey can get those they require very little water. 

No natives appeared to be now in the immediate neighbourhood. This wasa very pretty and charming little oasis-camp. We got a fewbronze-winged pigeons that came by mistake to water that night. Thefollowing morning we found the camels had decamped, in consequence oftheir having had long hobbles allowed them, as we did not suppose theywould ramble away from such splendid herbage and water. Alec wentafter them very early, but had not returned by midday. During hisabsence I was extremely anxious, for, if he should be unable to track, and should return without them, our case would be almost hopeless. Ifcamels are determined to stampede and can get a good start, there isfrequently no overtaking them on foot. They are not like horses, whichwill return of their own accord to water. Camels know their own powersand their own independence of man, and I believe that a camel, if notin subjection, might live for months without water, provided it couldget succulent food. How anxiously I listened as hour after hour Imaundered about this spot for the tinkling sound of the camels' bells!How often fancy will deceive even the strongest minds! Twenty timesduring that morning I could have sworn I heard the bells, and yet theywere miles out of earshot. When Alec and I and the camels were allhere together I thought this a very pretty place, but oh, how hideousdid it appear while I was here alone, with the harrowing thought ofthe camels being lost and Alec returning without them. Death itself inany terrors clad would have been a more welcome sight to me then andthere, than Alec Ross without the camels. But Alec Ross was a rightsmart chance of a young bushman, and I knew that nothing would preventhim from getting the animals so long as their hobbles held. If, however, they succeeded in breaking them, it would be good-bye forever. As they can go in their hobbles, unless short, if they have amind to stampede, as fast as a man can walk in this region, and with awhole night's start with loose legs, pursuit would be hopeless. Butsurely at last I hear the bells! Yes; but, strange to say, I did nothear them until Alec and the camels actually appeared through the edgeof scrub. Alec said they had gone miles, and were still pushing on insingle file when he got up to them. 

Now that I had found this water I was undecided what to do. It wouldbe gone before I could return to it, and where I should find any moreto the west it was impossible to say; it might be 100, it might be200, it might even be 300 miles. God only knows where the waters arein such a region as this. I hesitated for the rest of the day--whetherto go still farther west in search of water, or to return at once andrisk the bringing of the whole party here. Tietkens and Young, Ireflected, have found a new depot, and perhaps removed the whole partyto it. Then, again, they might not, but have had to retreat toYouldeh. Eventually I decided to go on a few miles more to the west, in order to see whether the character of the country was in any wayaltered before I returned to the depot. 

We went about forty miles beyond the dam; the only alteration in thecountry consisted of a return to the salt-lake system that had ceasedfor so many miles prior to our reaching our little dam. At thefurthest point we reached, 195 miles from the depot; it was upon theshore of another salt lake, no water of any kind was to be procured. The only horizon to be seen was about fifteen miles away, and wassimply the rim of an undulation in the dreary scrubs covered with theusual timber--that is to say, a mixture of the Eucalyptus dumosa ormallee, casuarinas or black oaks, a few Grevilleas, hakea bushes, withleguminous trees and shrubs, such as mulga, and a kind of harsh-, silver wattle, looking bush. On the latter order of these trees andplants the camels find their sustenance. Two stunted specimens of thenative orange-tree or capparis were seen where I had left the twocasks. From my furthest point west, in latitude 29 degrees 15' andlongitude 128 degrees 3' 30", I returned to the dam and found thateven during my short absence of only three and a half days thediminution of the volume of water in it was amazing, and I wasperfectly staggered at the decrease, which was at the rate of morethan an inch per day. The dimensions of this singular little dam werevery small: the depth was its most satisfactory feature. It was, asall native watering places are, funnel-shaped, and to the bottom ofthe funnel I could poke a stick about three feet, but a good deal ofthat depth was mud; the surface was not more than eight feet long, bythree feet wide, its shape was elliptical; it was not full when wefirst saw it, having shrunk at least three feet from its highestwater-mark. I now decided to return by a new and more southerly routeto the depot, hoping to find some other waters on the way. At this damwe were 160 miles from Eucla Harbour, which I visited last Februarywith my black boy Tommy and the three horses lost in pushing fromWynbring to the Finniss. North from Eucla, running inland, is a greatplain. I now wished to determine how far north this plain actuallyextended. I was here in scrubs to the north of it. The last night wecamped at the dam was exceedingly cold, the thermometer falling to 26degrees on the morning of the 16th of August, the day we left. Isteered south-east, and we came out of the scrubs, which had beenthinning, on to the great plain, in forty-nine or fifty miles. Changing my course here to east, we skirted along the edge of theplain for twenty-five miles. It was beautifully grassed, and hadcotton and salt-bush on it: also some little clover hollows, in whichrainwater lodges after a fall, but I saw none of any great capacity, and none that held any water. It was splendid country for the camelsto travel over; no spinifex, no impediments for their feet, and notimber. A bicycle could be ridden, I believe, over the whole extent ofthis plain, which must be 500 or 600 miles long by nearly 200 milesbroad, it being known as the Hampton plains in Western Australia, andending, so to say, near Youldeh. Having determined where the plainextends at this part of it, I now changed my course to east north-eastfor 106 miles, through the usual sandhill scrubs and spinifex region, until we reached the track of the caravan from Youldeh, having beenturned out of our straight course by a large salt lake, which mostprobably is the southern end of the one we met first, at eighteenmiles west from Ooldabinna. By the tracks I could see that the partyhad not retreated to Youldeh, which was so far re-assuring. On the22nd of August we camped on the main line of tracks, fifteen milesfrom home, when, soon after we started, it became very cloudy, andthreatened to rain. The weather for the last six days has been veryoppressive, the thermometer standing at 92 to 94 degrees, every daywhen we outspanned, usually from eleven to half-past twelve, thehottest time of the day not having then been reached. As we approachedthe depot, some slight sprinklings of rain fell, and as we drew nearerand nearer, our anxiety to ascertain whether our comrades were yetthere increased; also whether our camels, which had now come 196 milesfrom the dam, could get any water, for we had found none whatever onour return route. On mounting the last sandhill which shut out theview, we were pleased to see the flutterings of the canvas habitationsin the hollow below, and soon after we were welcomed by our friends. Saleh had returned by himself all right, and I think much to hissurprise had not been either killed, eaten, or lost in the bush. I wasindeed glad to find the party still there, as I had great doubtswhether they could hold out until my return. They were there, and thatwas about all, for the water in all the wells was barely sufficient togive our four camels a drink; there remained only a bucket or two ofslush rather than water in the whole camp. It appeared, however, asthough fortune were about to favour us, for the light droppings ofrain continued, and before night we were compelled to seek the shelterof our tents. I was indeed thankful to Heaven for paying even a partof so longstanding a debt, although it owes me a good many showersyet; but being a patient creditor, I will wait. We were so anxiousabout the water that we were continually stirring out of the tents tosee how the wells looked, and whether any water had yet ran into them, a slight trickling at length began to run into the best-catching ofour wells, and although the rain did not continue long or fallheavily, yet a sufficiency drained into the receptacle to enable us tofill up all our water-holding vessels the next morning, and give athorough good drink to all our camels. I will now give an account ofhow my two officers fared on their journey in search of a depot to thenorth. 

Their first point was to the little native dam they had seen prior tothe discovery of this place, and there they encamped the first night, ten miles from hence on a bearing of north 9 degrees east. Leaving thedam, they went north for twenty-five miles over high sandhills andthrough scrubs, when they saw some fresh native tracks, and found asmall and poor native well, in which there was only a bucketful or twoof water. They continued their northern course for twenty-five milesfarther, when they reached a hollow with natives' foot-marks all overit, and some diamond sparrows, Amadina of Gould. Again they wereunsuccessful in all their searches for water. Going farther north forfifteen miles, they observed some smoke to the north-east, and reachedthe place in six or seven miles. Here they found and surprised a largefamily of natives, who had apparently only recently arrived. A wideand deep hollow or valley existed among high sandhill country, timbered mostly with a eucalyptus, which is simply a gigantic speciesof mallee, but as it grows singly, it resembles gum-trees. Havingdescended into this hollow, a mile and a half wide, they saw thenatives, and were in hopes of obtaining some information from them, but unfortunately the whole mob decamped, uttering loud and prolongedcries. Following this valley still northwards they reached its head inabout six miles, but could discover no place where the nativesobtained their supplies of water. At this point they were travellingover burnt scrubby sandhill country still north, when the natives whohad appeared so shy came running after them in a threatening manner, howling at them, and annoying them in every possible way. Thesepeople, who had now arrayed themselves in their war-paint, and had alltheir fighting weapons in hand, evidently meant mischief; but myofficers managed to get away from them without coming to a hostileencounter. They endeavoured to parley with the natives and stopped forthat purpose, but could gain no information whatever as to the watersin their territories. Four miles north were then travelled, over burntcountry, and having failed in discovering any places or even signs, otherwise than the presence of black men, of places where water couldbe obtained, and being anxious about the state of the water supply atthe depot, as I had advised them not to remain too long away from thispoint, whose position is in latitude 27 degrees 48' and longitude 131degrees 19', they returned. The Musgrave Range, they said, was notmore than 100 miles to the north of them, but they had not sighted it. They were greatly disappointed at their want of success, and returnedby a slightly different route, searching in every likely-looking placefor water, but finding none, though they are both of opinion that thecountry is watered by native wells, and had they had sufficient timeto have more thoroughly investigated it, they would doubtless havebeen more successful. The Everard Range being about sixty miles southfrom the Musgrave chain, and they not having sighted it, I canscarcely think they could have been within 100 miles of the Musgrave, as from high sandhills that high feature should be visible at thatdistance. 

When Alec Ross and I returned from the west the others had been backsome days, and were most anxious to hear how we had got on out west. 

The usual anxiety at the camp was the question of water supply; I hadfound so little where I had been, and the water here was failingrapidly every day. Had it not been for last night's rain, we should bein a great difficulty this morning. Now, however, we had got oursupply replenished by the light rain, and for the moment all was well;but it did not follow that because it rained here it must also rain atthe little dam 160 miles away. Yet I decided to take the whole partyto it, and as, by the blessing of Providence, we now had sufficientwater for the purpose, to carry as much as we possibly could, so thatif no rain had fallen at the dam when we arrived there, we should givethe camels what water they carried and keep pushing on west, and trustto fate, or fortune, or chance, or Providence, or whatever it mightbe, that would bring us to water beyond. On the 24th August, havingfilled up everything that could hold a drop of water, we departed fromthis little isolated spot, having certainly 160 miles of desertwithout water to traverse, and perhaps none to be found at the end. Now, having everything ready, and watered our camels, we folded ourtents like the Arabs, and as silently stole away. In consequence ofhaving to carry so much water, our loads upon leaving Ooldabinna wereenormously heavy, and the weather became annoyingly hot just as webegan our journey. The four camels which Alec Ross and I had out withus looked wretched objects beside their more fortunate companions thathad been resting at Ooldabinna, and were now in excellent condition;our unfortunates, on the contrary, had been travelling for seventeendays at the rate of twenty-three miles per day, with only one drink ofwater in the interval. These four were certainly excellent animals. Alec rode my little riding cow Reechy. I had a splendid gelding, whichI named the Pearl Beyond all Price, though he was only called thePearl. He was a beautiful white camel. Another cow I called the WildGazelle, and we had a young bull that afterwards became Mr. Tietkens'sriding camel. It is unnecessary to record each day's proceedingsthrough these wretched scrubs, as the record of "each dreary to-morrowbut repeats the dull tale of to-day. " But I may here remark thatcamels have a great advantage over horses in these dense wildernesses, for the former are so tall that their loads are mostly raised into theless resisting upper branches of the low trees of which these scrubsare usually composed, whereas the horses' loads being so much nearerthe ground have to be dragged through the stouter and stronger lowerlimbs of the trees. Again, camels travel in one long single file, andwhere the leading camel forces his way the others all follow. It is ofgreat importance to have some good leading camels. My arrangement fortraversing these scrubs was as follows:--Saleh on his riding gelding, the most lion-hearted creature in the whole mob, although Saleh wasalways beating or swearing at him in Hindostanee, led the wholecaravan, which was divided into three separate lots; at every sixththere was a break, and one of the party rode ahead of the next six, and so on. The method of leading was, when the scrubs permitted, thesteersman would ride; if they were too thick for correct steering, hewould walk; then a man riding or leading a riding camel to guideSaleh, who led the baggage mob. Four of us used to steer. I had taughtAlec Ross, and we took an hour about, at a time. Immediately behindSaleh came three bull camels loaded with casks of water, each caskholding twenty gallons. These used to crash and smash down and throughthe branches, so that the passage was much clearer after them. All therest of the equipment, including water-beds, boxes, etc. , was encasedin huge leather bags, except one cow's load; this, with the bags offlour on two other camels, was enveloped in green hide. The fortunaterider at the extreme end had a somewhat open groove to ride in. Thislast place was the privilege of the steersman when his hour of agonywas up. After the caravan had forced its way through this forestprimeval, there was generally left an open serpentine line about sixfeet above the ground, through the trees, and when a person was onthis line they could see that something unusual must have passedthrough. On the ground was a narrower line about two feet wide, andsometimes as much as a foot deep, where one animal after another hadstepped. In my former journals I mentioned that the spinifex woundedthe horses' feet, and disfigured their coronets, it also used to takea good deal of hair off some of the horses' legs; but in the case ofthe camels, although it did not seem to excoriate them, it took everyhair off their legs up to three feet from the ground, and their limbsturned black, and were as bright and shiny as a newly polished boot. The camels' hair was much finer than that of the horses', but theirskin was much thicker, and while the horses' legs were punctured andsuppurating, the camels' were all as hard as steel and bright asbayonets. 

What breakfast we had was always taken very early, before it was lightenough to track the camels; then, while some of the party went afterthem, the others' duty was to have all the saddles and packs ready forinstant loading. Our shortest record of leaving a camp (On a piece ofopen ground. ) was half an hour from the instant the first camel wascaught, but it usually took the best part of an hour before aclearance could be effected. Upon leaving Ooldabinna we had ourwesterly tracks to follow; this made the road easier. At theninety-mile place, where I left the two water casks, we were glad tofind them all safe, and in consequence of the shade we had put overthem, there had been no loss of water from evaporation. On the sixthnight from Ooldabinna we were well on our way towards the little dam, having come 120 miles. The heat had been very oppressive. At dusk ofthat day some clouds obscured the sky, and light rain fell, continuingnearly all night. On the seventh day, the 30th of August, there wasevery appearance of wet setting in. I was very thankful, for now Ifelt sure we should find more water in the little dam than when I leftit. We quietly ensconced ourselves under our tents in the midst of thescrubs, and might be said to have enjoyed a holiday as a respite andrepose, in contrast to our usual perpetual motion. The ground was fartoo porous to hold any surface water, and had our camels wanted itnever so much, it could only be caught upon some outspread tarpaulins;but what with the descending moisture, the water we carried and therain we caught, we could now give them as much as they liked to drink, and I now felt sure of getting more when we arrived at the little dam. During the night of the 29th one of our best cow-camels calved. Unfortunately the animal strained herself so severely in one of herhips, or other part of her hind legs, that she could not rise from theground. She seemed also paralysed with cold. Her little mite of a calfhad to be killed. We milked the mother as well as we could while shewas lying down, and we fed and watered her--at least we offered herfood and water, but she was in too great pain to eat. Camel calvesare, in proportion to their mothers, the most diminutive but prettylittle objects imaginable. I delayed here an additional day on thepoor creature's account, but all our efforts to raise her provedunsuccessful. I could not leave the poor dumb brute on the ground todie by inches slowly, by famine, and alone, so I in mercy shot herjust before we left the place, and left her dead alongside the progenythat she had brought to life in such a wilderness, only at the expenseof her own. She had been Mr. Tietkens's hack, and one of our bestriding camels. We had now little over forty miles to go to reach thedam, and as all our water had been consumed, and the vessels wereempty, the loads now were light enough. On the 3rd of September wearrived, and were delighted to find that not only had the dam beenreplenished, but it was full to overflowing. A little water wasactually visible in the lake-bed alongside of it, at the southern end, but it was unfit for drinking. 

The little reservoir had now six feet of water in it; there wassufficient for all my expected requirements. The camels could drink attheir ease and pleasure. The herbage and grass was more green andluxuriant than ever, and to my eyes it now appeared a far more prettyscene. There were the magenta-coloured vetch, the scarlet desert-pea, and numerous other leguminous plants, bushes, and trees, of which thecamels are so fond. Mr. Young informed me that he had seen two orthree natives from the spot at which we pitched our tents, but I sawnone, and they never returned while we were in occupation of theirproperty. This would be considered a pretty spot anywhere, but comingsuddenly on it from the dull and sombre scrubs, the contrast makes itadditionally striking. In the background to the south were some highred sandhills, on which grew some scattered casuarina of the black oakkind, which is a different variety from, and not so elegant or shady atree as, the finer desert oak, which usually grows in more openregions. I have not as yet seen any of them on this expedition. Allround the lake is a green and open space with scrubs standing back, and the white lake-bed in the centre. The little dam was situated on apiece of clay ground where rain-water from the foot of some of thesandhills could run into the lake; and here the natives had made aclumsy and (ab)original attempt at storing the water, having dug outthe tank in the wrong place, at least not in the best position forcatching the rain-water. I felt sure there was to be a waterless trackbeyond, so I stayed at this agreeable place for a week, in order torecruit the camels, and more particularly to enable another cow tocalve. During this interval of repose we had continued oppressiveweather, the thermometer standing from 92 and 94 to 96 degrees everyafternoon, but the nights were agreeably cool, if not cold. We hadgenerally very cloudy mornings; the flies were particularly numerousand troublesome, and I became convinced that any further travel to thewest would have to be carried on under very unfavourablecircumstances. This little dam was situated in latitude 29 degrees 19'4", and longitude 128 degrees 38' 16", showing that we had crossed theboundary line between the two colonies of South and Western Australia, the 129th meridian. I therefore called this the Boundary Dam. It mustbe recollected that we are and have been for 7 1/2 degrees oflongitude--that is to say, for 450 miles of westing, and 130 miles ofnorthing--occupying the intervening period between the 9th of June, tothe 3rd of September, entirely enveloped in dense scrubs, and I maysay that very few if any explorers have ever before had such a regionto traverse. I had managed to penetrate this country up to the presentpoint, and it was not to be wondered at if we all ardently longed fora change. Even a bare, boundless expanse of desert sand would bewelcomed as an alternative to the dark and dreary scrubs thatsurrounded us. However, it appeared evident to me, as I had traversednothing but scrubs for hundreds of miles from the east, and had foundno water of any size whatever in all the distance I had yet come, thatno waters really existed in this country, except an occasional nativewell or native dam, and those only at considerable distances apart. Concluding this to be the case, and my object being that theexpedition should reach the city of Perth, I decided there was onlyone way to accomplish this--namely, to go thither, at any risk, andtrust to Providence for an occasional supply of water here and therein the intermediate distance. I desired to make for a hill or mountaincalled Mount Churchman by Augustus Churchman Gregory in 1846. I had nowritten record of water existing there, but my chart showed that MountChurchman had been visited by two or three other travellers since thatdate, and it was presumable that water did permanently exist there. The hill was, however, distant from this dam considerably over 600miles in a straight line, and too far away for it to be possible wecould reach it unless we should discover some new watering placesbetween. I was able to carry a good supply of water in casks, water-beds and bags; and to enable me to carry this I had done awaywith various articles, and made the loads as light as possible; but itwas merely lightening them of one commodity to load them with acorresponding weight of water. At the end of a week I was tired of thelistless life at the camp. The cow camel had not calved, and showed nogreater disposition to do so now than when we arrived, so I determinedto delay no longer on her account. The animals had done remarkablywell here, as the feed was so excellent. The water that had been lyingin the bed of the lake when we arrived had now dried up, and thequantity taken by ourselves and the camels from the little dam wastelling very considerably upon its store--a plain intimation to usthat it would soon become exhausted, and that for the sustenance oflife more must be procured. Where the next favoured spot would befound, who could tell? The last water we had met was over 150 milesaway; the next might be double that distance. Having considered allthese matters, I informed my officers and men that I had determined topush westward, without a thought of retreat, no matter what the resultmight be; that it was a matter of life or death for us; we must pushthrough or die in the scrubs. I added that if any more than one of theparty desired to retreat, I would provide them with rations andcamels, when they could either return to Fowler's Bay by the way wehad come, or descend to Eucla Station on the coast, which lay southnearly 170 miles distant. 

I represented that we were probably in the worst desert upon the faceof the earth, but that fact should give us all the more pleasure inconquering it. We were surrounded on all sides by dense scrubs, andthe sooner we forced our way out of them the better. It was of coursea desperate thing to do, and I believe very few people would or couldrush madly into a totally unknown wilderness, where the nearest knownwater was 650 miles away. But I had sworn to go to Perth or die in theattempt, and I inspired the whole of my party with my own enthusiasm. One and all declared that they would live or die with me. The nativesbelonging to this place had never come near us, therefore we could getno information concerning any other waters in this region. Owing tothe difficulty of holding conversation with wild tribes, it is highlyprobable that if we had met them we should have got no information ofvalue from them. When wild natives can be induced to approach andspeak to the first travellers who trespass on their domains, theysimply repeat, as well as they can, every word and action of thewhites; this becomes so annoying that it is better to be without them. When they get to be more intimate and less nervous they also generallybecome more familiar, and want to see if white people are white allover, and to satisfy their curiosity in many ways. This regionevidently does not support a very numerous tribe, and there is notmuch game in it. I have never visited any part of Australia so devoidof animal life. 

On the 10th of September everything was ready, and I departed, declaring that:--

 "Though the scrubs may range around me, My camel shall bear me on; Though the desert may surround me, It hath springs that shall be won. "

Mounting my little fairy camel Reechy, I "whispered to her westward, westward, and with speed she darted onward. " The morning was cloudyand cool, and I anticipated a change from the quite sufficiently hotweather we had lately had, although I did not expect rain. We had nonotion of how far we might have to go, or how many days might elapsebefore we came to any other water, but we left our friendly little damin high hopes and excellent spirits, hoping to discover not onlywater, but some more agreeable geographical features than we had asyet encountered. I had set my own and all my companions' lives upon acast, and will stand the hazard of the die, and I may add that eachone displayed at starting into the new unknown, the greatest desireand eagerness for our attempt. On leaving the depot I had determinedto travel on a course that would enable me to reach the 30th parallelof latitude at about its intersection with the 125th meridian oflongitude; for I thought it probable the scrubs might terminate soonerin that direction than in one more northerly. Our course was thereforeon a bearing of south 76 degrees west; this left the line of saltlakes Alec Ross and I had formerly visited, and which lay west, on ourright or northwards of us. Immediately after the start we enteredthick scrubs as usual; they were mostly composed of the black oak, casuarina, with mulga and sandal-wood, not of commerce. We passed bythe edge of two small salt depressions at six and nine miles; at tenmiles we were overtaken by a shower of rain, and at eleven miles, asit was still raining slightly, we encamped on the edge of anotherlake. During the evening we saved sufficient water by means of ourtarpaulins for all our own requirements. During the night it alsorained at intervals, and we collected a lot of water and put it into alarge canvas trough used for watering the camels when they cannotreach the water themselves. I carried two of these troughs, which heldsufficient water for them all when at a watered camp, but notimmediately after a dry stage; then they required to be filled threeor four times. On the following morning, however, as we had but justleft the depot, the camels would not drink, and as all our vesselswere full, the water in the trough had to be poured out upon theground as a libation to the Fates. In consequence of having to dry anumber of things, we did not get away until past midday, and at elevenmiles upon our course, after passing two small salt lagoons, we cameupon a much larger one, where there was good herbage. This we tookadvantage of, and encamped there. Camels will not eat anything fromwhich they cannot extract moisture, by which process they are enabledto go so long without water. The recent rain had left some sheets ofwater in the lake-bed at various places, but they were all as salt asbrine--in fact brine itself. 

The country we passed through to-day was entirely scrubs, except wherethe salt basins intervened, and nothing but scrubs could be seenahead, or indeed in any other direction. The latitude of the camp onthis lake was 29 degrees 24' 8", and it was twenty-two miles from thedam. We continued our march and proceeded still upon the same course, still under our usual routine of steering. By the fifth night of ourtravels we had met no water or any places that could hold it, andapparently we had left all the salt basins behind. Up to this point wehad been continually in dense scrubs, but here the country became alittle more open; myal timber, acacia, generally took the places ofthe mallee and the casuarinas; the spinifex disappeared, and realgrass grew in its place. I was in hopes of finding water if we shoulddebouch upon a plain, or perhaps discover some ranges or hills whichthe scrubs might have hidden from us. On the sixth day of our march weentered fairly on a plain, the country being very well grassed. Italso had several kinds of salsolaceous bushes upon it; these furnishexcellent fodder plants for all herbivorous animals. Although the soilwas not very good, being sand mixed with clay, it was a very hard andgood travelling country; the camels' feet left scarcely any impressionon it, and only by the flattened grass and crushed plants trodden toearth by our heavy-weighing ships, could our trail now be followed. The plain appeared to extend a great distance all around us. A solemnstillness pervaded the atmosphere; nobody spoke much above a whisper. Once we saw some wild turkey bustards, and Mr. Young managed to wingone of them on the seventh day from the dam. On the seventh night thecow, for which we had delayed there, calved, but her bull-calf had tobe destroyed, as we could not delay for it on the march. The old cowwas in very good condition, went off her milk in a day or two, andcontinued on the journey as though nothing had occurred. On the eighthwe had cold fowl for breakfast, with a modicum of water. On the ninthand tenth days of our march the plains continued, and I began to thinkwe were more liable to die for want of water on them than in the denseand hideous scrubs we had been so anxious to leave behind. Althoughthe region now was all a plain, no views of any extent could beobtained, as the country still rolled on in endless undulations atvarious distances apart, just as in the scrubs. It was evident thatthe regions we were traversing were utterly waterless, and in all thedistance we had come in ten days, no spot had been found where watercould lodge. It was totally uninhabited by either man or animal, not atrack of a single marsupial, emu, or wild dog was to be seen, and weseemed to have penetrated into a region utterly unknown to man, and asutterly forsaken by God. We had now come 190 miles from water, and ourprospects of obtaining any appeared more and more hopeless. Vainlyindeed it seemed that I might say--with the mariner on theocean--"Full many a green spot needs must be in this wide waste ofmisery, Or the traveller worn and wan never thus could voyage on. " Butwhere was the oasis for us? Where the bright region of rest? And now, when days had many of them passed away, and no places had been metwhere water was, the party presented a sad and solemn procession, asthough each and all of us was stalking slowly onward to his tomb. Somemurmurs of regret reached my ears; but I was prepared for more thanthat. Whenever we camped, Saleh would stand before me, gaze fixedlyinto my face and generally say: "Mister Gile, when you get water?" Ipretended to laugh at the idea, and say. "Water? pooh! There's nowater in this country, Saleh. I didn't come here to find water, I camehere to die, and you said you'd come and die too. " Then he wouldponder awhile, and say: "I think some camel he die to-morrow, Mr. Gile. " I would say: "No, Saleh, they can't possibly live tillto-morrow, I think they will all die to-night. " Then he: "Oh, Mr. Gile, I think we all die soon now. " Then I: "Oh yes, Saleh, we'll allbe dead in a day or two. " When he found he couldn't get anysatisfaction out of me he would begin to pray, and ask me which wasthe east. I would point south: down he would go on his knees, andabase himself in the sand, keeping his head in it for some time. Afterwards he would have a smoke, and I would ask: "What's the matter, Saleh? what have you been doing?" "Ah, Mr. Gile, " was his answer, "Ibeen pray to my God to give you a rock-hole to-morrow. " I said, "Why, Saleh, if the rock-hole isn't there already there won't be time foryour God to make it; besides, if you can get what you want by prayingfor it, let me have a fresh-water lake, or a running river, that willtake us right away to Perth. What's the use of a paltry rock-hole?"Then he said solemnly, "Ah, Mr. Gile, you not religious. "

On the eleventh day the plains died off, and we re-entered a new bedof scrubs--again consisting of mallee, casuarinas, desert sandal-wood, and quandong-trees of the same family; the ground was overgrown withspinifex. By the night of the twelfth day from the dam, having dailyincreased our rate of progress, we had traversed scrubs moreundulating than previously, consisting of the usual kinds of trees. Atsundown we descended into a hollow; I thought this would prove the bedof another salt lake, but I found it to be a rain-water basin or verylarge clay-pan, and although there were signs of the former presenceof natives, the whole basin, grass, and herbage about it, were as dryas the desert around. Having found a place where water could lodge, Iwas certainly disappointed at finding none in it, as this showed thatno rain whatever had fallen here, where it might have remained, whenwe had good but useless showers immediately upon leaving the dam. Fromthe appearance of the vegetation no rains could possibly have visitedthis spot for many months, if not years. The grass was white and dry, and ready to blow away with any wind. 

(ILLUSTRATION: IN QUEEN VICTORIA'S DESERT. )

We had now travelled 242 miles from the little dam, and I thought itadvisable here to give our lion-hearted camels a day's respite, and toapportion out to them the water that some of them had carried for thatpurpose. By the time we reached this distance from the last water, although no one had openly uttered the word retreat, all knowing itwould be useless, still I was not unassailed by croakings of some ofthe ravens of the party, who advised me, for the sake of saving ourown and some of the camels' lives, to sacrifice a certain number ofthe worst, and not give these unfortunates any water at all. But Irepresented that it would be cruel, wrong, and unjust to pursue such acourse, and yet expect these neglected ones still to travel on withus; for even in their dejected state some, or even all, might actuallygo as far without water as the others would go with; and as forturning them adrift, or shooting them in a mob--which was alsomooted--so long as they could travel, that was out of the question. SoI declined all counsel, and declared it should be a case of all sinkor all swim. In the middle of the thirteenth day, during which werested for the purpose, the water was fairly divided among the camels;the quantity given to each was only a little over four gallons--aboutequivalent to four thimblesful to a man. There were eighteen growncamels and one calf, Youldeh, the quantity given was about eightygallons. To give away this quantity of water in such a region was likeparting with our blood; but it was the creatures' right, and carriedexpressly for them; and with the renewed vigour which even that smallquantity imparted to them, our own lives seemed to obtain a new lease. Unfortunately, the old cow which calved at Youldeh, and whose she-calfis the prettiest and nicest little pet in the world, has begun to failin her milk, and I am afraid the young animal will be unable to holdout to the end of this desert, if indeed it has an end this side ofPerth. The position of this dry basin is in latitude 30 degrees 7' 3", and longitude 124 degrees 41' 2". Since reaching the 125th meridian, my course had been 5 degrees more southerly, and on departing fromthis wretched basin on the 22nd of September, with animals greatlyrefreshed and carrying much lighter loads, we immediately entereddense scrubs, composed as usual of mallee, with its friend thespinifex, black oaks, and numerous gigantic mallee-like gum-trees. Itseemed that distance, which lends enchantment to the view, was theonly chance for our lives; distance, distance, unknown distance seemedto be our only goal. The country rose immediately from this depressioninto high and rolling hills of sand, and here I was surprised to findthat a number of the melancholy cypress pines ornamented both thesandy hills and the spinifex depressions through and over which wewent. Here, indeed, some few occasional signs and traces of the formerpresence of natives existed. The only water they can possibly get inthis region must be from the roots of the trees. A great number of theso-called native poplar-trees, of two varieties, Codonocarpus, werenow met, and the camels took huge bites at them as they passed by. Thesmaller vegetation assumed the familiar similitude to that around theMount Olga of my two first horse expeditions. Two wild dog puppieswere seen and caught by my black boy Tommy and Nicholls, in the scrubsto-day, the fourteenth from the dam. Tommy and others had also found afew Lowans', Leipoa ocellata, nests, and we secured a few of thepink-tinted eggs; this was the laying season. These, with the turkeyMr. Young had shot on the plain, were the only adjuncts to oursupplies that we had obtained from this region. After to-day's stagethere was nothing but the native poplar for the camels to eat, andthey devoured the leaves with great apparent relish, though to myhuman taste it is about the most disgusting of vegetables. Thefollowing day, fifteenth from water, we accomplished twenty-six milesof scrubs. Our latitude here was 30 degrees 17'. The country continuedto rise into sandhills, from which the only views obtainable presentedspaces precisely similar to those already traversed and left behind tothe eastwards, and if it were only from our experience of what we hadpassed, that we were to gather intelligence of what was before us inthe future, then would our future be gloomy indeed. 

At twelve o'clock on the sixteenth day some natives' smoke was seenstraight on our course, and also some of their foot-marks. The daysthroughout this march had been warm; the thermometer at twelveo'clock, when we let the camels lie down, with their loads on, for anhour, usually stood at 94, 95, or 96 degrees, while in the afternoonit was some degrees hotter. On Saturday, the 25th of September, beingthe sixteenth day from the water at the Boundary Dam, we travelledtwenty-seven miles, still on our course, through mallee and spinifex, pines, casuarinas, and quandong-trees, and noticed for the first timeupon this expedition some very fine specimens of the Australiangrass-tree, Xanthorrhoea; the giant mallee were also numerous. Thelatter give a most extraordinary appearance to the scenes they adorn, for they cheat the eye of the traveller into the belief that he ispassing through tracts of alluvial soil, and gazing, upon thewater-indicating gum-trees. This night we reached a most abominableencampment; there was nothing that the camels could eat, and theground was entirely covered with great bunches of spinifex. Before us, and all along the western horizon, we had a black-looking and scrubbyrise of very high sandhills; each of us noticed its resemblance tothose sandhills which had confronted us to the north and east when atYouldeh. By observation we found that we were upon the same latitude, but had reached a point in longitude 500 miles to the west of it. Itis highly probable that no water exists in a straight line between thetwo places. Shortly before evening, Mr. Young was in advance steering, but he kept so close under the sun--it being now so near the equinox, the sun set nearly west, and our course being 21 degrees south ofwest--I had to go forward and tell him that he was not steeringrightly. Of course he became indignant, and saying, "Perhaps you'llsteer, then, if you don't think I can!" he handed me the compass. Itook it in silence and steered more southerly, in the proper directionof our course; this led us over a long white ridge of sand, andbrought us to the hollow where, as I said before, we had such awretched encampment. I mention this as a circumstance attaches to it. The fate of empires at times has hung upon a thread, and our fate nowhung upon my action. We had come 323 miles without having seen a dropof water. There was silence and melancholy in the camp; and was it tobe wondered at if, in such a region and under such circumstances, there was:--

 "A load on each spirit, a cloud o'er each soul, With eyes that could scan not, our destiny's scroll. "

Every man seemed to turn his eyes on me. I was the great centre ofattraction; every action of mine was held to have some peculiarmeaning. I was continually asked night after night if we should getwater the following day? The reply, "How can I tell?" wasinsufficient; I was supposed to know to an inch where water was andexactly when we could reach it. I believe all except the officersthought I was making for a known water, for although I had explainedthe situation before leaving the dam, it was only now that they werebeginning to comprehend its full meaning. Towards the line of darksandhills, which formed the western horizon, was a great fall ofcountry into a kind of hollow, and on the following morning, theseventeenth day from the dam, Mr. Tietkens appeared greatly impressedwith the belief that we were in the neighbourhood of water. I saidnothing of my own impressions, for I thought something of the kindalso, although I said I would not believe it. It was Mr. Tietkens'sturn to steer, and he started on foot ahead of the string of camelsfor that purpose. He gave Tommy his little riding-bull, the bestleading camel we have, and told him to go on top of a white sandhillto our left, a little south of us, and try if he could find any freshblacks' tracks, or other indications of water. I did not know thatTommy had gone, nor could I see that Tietkens was walking--it was anextraordinary event when the whole string of camels could be seen atonce in a line in this country--and we had been travelling some twomiles and a half when Alec Ross and Peter Nicholls declared that theyheard Tommy calling out "water!" I never will believe these thingsuntil they are proved, so I kept the party still going on. However, even I, soon ceased to doubt, for Tommy came rushing through thescrubs full gallop, and, between a scream and a howl, yelled out quiteloud enough now even for me to hear, "Water! water! plenty water here!come on! come on! this way! this way! come on, Mr. Giles! mine beenfind 'em plenty water!" I checked his excitement a moment and askedwhether it was a native well he had found, and should we have to workat it with the shovel? Tommy said, "No fear shovel, that fellow watersit down meself (i. E. Itself) along a ground, camel he drink 'emmeself. " Of course we turned the long string after him. Soon after heleft us he had ascended the white sandhill whither Mr. Tietkens hadsent him, and what sight was presented to his view! A little open ovalspace of grass land, half a mile away, surrounded entirely bypine-trees, and falling into a small funnel-shaped hollow, looked atfrom above. He said that before he ascended the sandhill he had seenthe tracks of an emu, and on descending he found the bird's track wentfor the little open circle. He then followed it to the spot, and saw aminiature lake lying in the sand, with plenty of that inestimablefluid which he had not beheld for more than 300 miles. He watered hiscamel, and then rushed after us, as we were slowly passing onignorantly by this life-sustaining prize, to death and doom. Had Mr. Young steered rightly the day before--whenever it was his turn duringthat day I had had to tell him to make farther south--we should havehad this treasure right upon our course; and had I not checked hisincorrect steering in the evening, we should have passed under thenorthern face of a long, white sandhill more than two miles north ofthis water. Neither Tommy nor anybody else would have seen the placeon which it lies, as it is completely hidden in the scrubs; as it was, we should have passed within a mile of it if Mr. Tietkens had not sentTommy to look out, though I had made up my mind not to enter the highsandhills beyond without a search in this hollow, for my experiencetold me if there was no water in it, none could exist in this terribleregion at all, and we must have found the tracks of natives, or wilddogs or emus leading to the water. Such characters in the book ofNature the explorer cannot fail to read, as we afterwards saw numerousnative foot-marks all about. When we arrived with the camels at thisnewly-discovered liquid gem, I found it answered to Tommy'sdescription. It is the most singularly-placed water I have ever seen, lying in a small hollow in the centre of a little grassy flat, andsurrounded by clumps of the funereal pines, "in a desert inaccessible, under the shade of melancholy boughs. " While watering my little camelat its welcome waters, I might well exclaim, "In the desert a fountainis springing"--though in this wide waste there's too many a tree. Thewater is no doubt permanent, for it is supplied by the drainage of thesandhills that surround it, and it rests on a substratum of imperviousclay. It lies exposed to view in a small open basin, the water beingonly about 150 yards in circumference and from two to three feet deep. Farther up the slopes, at much higher levels, native wells had beensunk in all directions--in each and all of these there was water. Onelarge well, apparently a natural one, lay twelve or thirteen feethigher up than the largest basin, and contained a plentiful supply ofpure water. Beyond the immediate precincts of this open space thescrubs abound. 

It may be imagined how thankful we were for the discovery of this onlyand lonely watered spot, after traversing such a desert. How muchlonger and farther the expedition could have gone on without water wewere now saved the necessity of guessing, but this I may truly say, that Sir Thomas Elder's South Australian camels are second to none inthe world for strength and endurance. From both a human and humanepoint of view, it was most fortunate to have found this spring, andwith it a respite, not only from our unceasing march, but from theterrible pressure on our minds of our perilous situation; for thepainful fact was ever before us, that even after struggling bravelythrough hundreds of miles of frightful scrubs, we might die like dogsin the desert at last, unheard of and unknown. On me the most severewas the strain; for myself I cared not, I had so often died in spiritin my direful journeys that actual death was nothing to me. But forvanity, or fame, or honour, or greed, and to seek the bubblereputation, I had brought six other human beings into a dreadfulstrait, and the hollow eyes and gaunt, appealing glances that werealways fixed on me were terrible to bear; but I gathered some supportfrom a proverb of Solomon: "If thou faint in the day of adversity, thystrength is small. " Mount Churchman, the place I was endeavouring toreach, was yet some 350 miles distant; this discovery, it wastherefore evident, was the entire salvation of the whole party. 

During our march for these sixteen or seventeen days from the littledam, I had not put the members of my party upon an actual shortallowance of water. Before we watered the camels we had over 100gallons of water, yet the implied restraint was so great that we wereall in a continual state of thirst during the whole time, and thesmall quantity of water consumed--of course we never had any tea orcoffee--showed how all had restrained themselves. 

(ILLUSTRATION: QUEEN VICTORIA'S SPRING. )

Geographical features have been terribly scarce upon this expedition, and this peculiar spring is the first permanent water I have found. Ihave ventured to dedicate it to our most gracious Queen. The greatdesert in which I found it, and which will most probably extend to thewest as far as it does to the east, I have also honoured with HerMajesty's mighty name, calling it the Great Victoria Desert, and thespring, Queen Victoria's Spring. In future times these may becelebrated localities in the British Monarch's dominions. I have noVictoria or Albert Nyanzas, no Tanganyikas, Lualabas, or Zambezes, like the great African travellers, to honour with Her Majesty's name, but the humble offering of a little spring in a hideous desert, which, had it surrounded the great geographical features I have enumerated, might well have kept them concealed for ever, will not, I trust, bedeemed unacceptable in Her Majesty's eyes, when offered by a loyal andmost faithful subject. 

On our arrival here our camels drank as only thirsty camels can, andgreat was our own delight to find ourselves again enabled to drink atwill and indulge in the luxury of a bath. Added to both thesepleasures was a more generous diet, so that we became quite enamouredof our new home. At this spring the thorny vegetation of the desertgrew alongside the more agreeable water-plants at the water's edge, sothat fertility and sterility stood side by side. Mr. Young plantedsome seeds of numerous vegetables, plants, and trees, and among otherssome of the giant bamboo, Dendrocalamus striatus, also Tasmanian bluegum and wattles. I am afraid these products of Nature will never reachmaturity, for the natives are continually burning the rough grass andspinifex, and on a favourably windy occasion these will consumeeverything green or dry, down to the water's edge. There seems to bevery little native game here, though a number of bronze-winged pigeonscame to water at night and morning. There are, however, so many smallnative wells besides the larger sheet, for them to drink at, and alsosuch a quantity of a thorny vegetation to screen them, that we havenot been very successful in getting any. Our best shot, Mr. Young, succeeded in bagging only four or five. It was necessary, now that wehad found this spring, to give our noble camels a fair respite, themore so as the food they will eat is very scarce about here, as wehave yet over 300 miles to travel to reach Mount Churchman, with everyprobability of getting no water between. There are many curious flyingand creeping insects here, but we have not been fortunate in catchingmany. Last night, however, I managed to secure and methylate agood-sized scorpion. After resting under the umbrageous foliage of thecypress-pines, among which our encampment was fixed for a week, theparty and camels had all recovered from the thirst and fatigue of ourlate march, and it really seemed impossible to believe that such astretch of country as 325 miles could actually have been traversedbetween this and the last water. The weather during our halt had beenvery warm, the thermometer had tried to go over 100 degrees in theshade, but fell short by one degree. Yesterday was an abominable day;a heated tornado blew from the west from morning until night andcontinued until this morning, when, without apparent change otherwise, and no clouds, the temperature of the wind entirely altered and we hadan exceedingly cool and delightful day. We found the position of thisspring to be in latitude 30 degrees 25' 30" and longitude 123 degrees21' 13". On leaving a depot and making a start early in the morning, camels, like horses, may not be particularly inclined to fillthemselves with water, while they might do so in the middle of theday, and thus may leave a depot on a long dry march not half filled. The Arabs in Egypt and other camel countries, when starting for adesert march, force the animals, as I have seen--that is, read of--tofill themselves up by using bullocks' horns for funnels and pouringthe water down their throats till the creatures are ready to burst. The camels, knowing by experience, so soon as the horns are stuck intotheir mouths, that they are bound for a desert march, fill upaccordingly. 

Strange to say, though I had brought from Port Augusta almost everyarticle that could be mentioned for the journey, yet I did not bringany bullocks' horns, and it was too late now to send Tommy back toprocure some; we consequently could not fill up our camels atstarting, after the Arab fashion. In order to obviate any disadvantageon this account, to-day I sent, with Mr. Tietkens and Alec Ross, threecamels, loaded with water, to be deposited about twenty-five miles onour next line of route, so that the camels could top up en passant. The water was to be poured into two canvas troughs and covered overwith a tarpaulin. This took two days going and coming, but we remainedyet another two, at the Queen's Spring. 

Before I leave that spot I had perhaps better remark that it mightprove a very difficult, perhaps dangerous place, to any othertraveller to attempt to find, because, although there are many whitesandhills in the neighbourhood, the open space on which the water liesis so small in area and so closely surrounded by scrubs, that itcannot be seen from any conspicuous one, nor can any conspicuoussandhill, distinguishable at any distance, be seen from it. It lies ator near the south-west end of a mass of white-faced sandhills; thereare none to the south or west of it. While we remained here a fewaboriginals prowled about the camp, but they never showed themselves. On the top of the bank, above all the wells, was a beaten corroborreepath, where these denizens of the desert have often held their feastsand dances. Tommy found a number of long, flat, sword-like weaponsclose by, and brought four or five of them into the camp. They wereornamented after the usual Australian aboriginal fashion, some withslanting cuts or grooves along the blade, others with square, elliptical, or rounded figures; several of these two-handed swordswere seven feet long, and four or five inches wide; wielded with goodforce, they were formidable enough to cut a man in half at a blow. 

This spring could not be the only water in this region; I believethere was plenty more in the immediate neighbourhood, as the nativesnever came to water here. It was singular how we should have droppedupon such a scene, and penetrated thus the desert's vastness, to thescrub-secluded fastness of these Austral-Indians' home. Mr. Young andI collected a great many specimens of plants, flowers, insects, andreptiles. Among the flowers was the marvellous red, white, blue, andyellow wax-like flower of a hideous little gnarled and stuntedmallee-tree; it is impossible to keep these flowers unless they couldbe hermetically preserved in glass; all I collected and most carefullyput away in separate tin boxes fell to pieces, and lost their colours. The collection of specimens of all kinds got mislaid in Adelaide. Somegrass-trees grew in the vicinity of this spring to a height of overtwenty feet. On the evening of the 5th of October a small snake andseveral very large scorpions came crawling about us as we sat roundthe fire; we managed to bottle the scorpions, but though we woundedthe snake it escaped; I was very anxious to methylate him also, but itappeared he had other ideas, and I should not be at all surprised if apressing interview with his undertaker was one of them. 

One evening a discussion arose about the moon, and Saleh was trying toteach Tommy something, God knows what, about it. Amongst otherassertions he informed Tommy that the moon travelled from east towest, "because, you see, Tommy, " he said, "he like the sun--sun travelwest too. " Tommy shook his head very sapiently, and said, "No, I don'tthink that, I think moon go the other way. " "No fear, " said Saleh, "how could it?" Then Peter Nicholls was asked, and he couldn't tell;he thought Saleh was right, because the moon did set in the west. SoTommy said, "Oh, well, I'll ask Mr. Giles, " and they came to where Mr. T, Mr. Y. , and I were seated, and told us the argument. I said, "No, Saleh, the moon travels just the other way. " Then Tommy said, "I toleyou so, I know, " but of course he couldn't explain himself. Saleh wasscandalised, and all his religious ideas seemed upset. So I said, "Well, now, Saleh, you say the moon travels to the west; now do yousee where she is to-night, between those two stars?" "Oh, yes, " hesaid, "I see. " I said, "If to-morrow night she is on the east side ofthat one, " pointing to one, "she must have travelled east to getthere, mustn't she?" "Oh, no, " said Saleh, "she can't go there, shemust come down west like the sun, " etc. In vain we showed him the nextnight how she had moved still farther east among the stars; that wasnothing to him. It would have been far easier to have converted him toChristianity than to make him alter his original opinion. With regardto Tommy's ideas, I may say that nearly all Australian natives arefamiliar with the motions of the heavenly bodies, knowing thedifference between a star and a planet, and all tribes that I havebeen acquainted with have proper names for each, the moon also being avery particular object of their attention. 

While at this water we occasionally saw hawks, crows, corellas, apink-feathered kind of cockatoo, and black magpies, which in someparts of the country are also called mutton birds, and pigeons. Oneday Peter Nicholls shot a queer kind of carrion bird, not so large asa crow, although its wings were as long. It had the peculiar dancinghop of the crow, its plumage was of a dark slate colour, with whitishtips to the wings, its beak was similar to a crow's. 

We had now been at this depot for nine days, and on the 6th of Octoberwe left it behind to the eastward, as we had done all the otherresting places we had found. I desired to go as straight as possiblefor Mount Churchman. Its position by the chart is in latitude 29degrees 58', and longitude 118 degrees. Straight lines on a map andstraight lines through dense scrubs are, however, totally different, and, go as straight as we could, we must make it many miles fartherthan its distance showed by the chart. 

CHAPTER 4. 3. FROM 6TH TO 18TH OCTOBER, 1875. 

Depart for Mount Churchman. Yellow-barked trees. Wallaby traps. Sight a low hill. Several salt lakes. Another hill. Camels bogged. Natives' smoke. Bare rocks. Grass-trees. Clayey and grassy ground. Dryness of the region. Another mass of bare rocks. A pretty place. Crows and native foot-tracks. Tommy finds a well. Then another. Alone on the rocks. Voices of the angels. Women coming for water. First natives seen. Arrival of the party. Camels very thirsty but soon watered. Two hundred miles of desert. Natives come to the camp. Splendid herbage. A romantic spot. More natives arrive. Native ornaments. A mouthpiece. Cold night. Thermometer 32 degrees. Animals' tracks. Natives arrive for breakfast. Inspection of native encampment. Old implements of white men in the camp. A lame camel. Ularring. A little girl. Dislikes a looking-glass. A quiet and peaceful camp. A delightful oasis. Death and danger lurking near. Scouts and spies. A furious attack. Personal foe. Dispersion of the enemy. A child's warning. Keep a watch. Silence at night. Howls and screams in the morning. The Temple of Nature. Reflections. Natives seen no more. 

On the 6th October, as I have said, we departed, and at once enteredinto the second division of Her Majesty Queen Victoria's greatAustralian desert. That night we camped at the place where Mr. Tietkens and Alec Ross, albeit a short measure for twenty-five miles, had left the two troughs full of water. I had instructed them totravel west-north-west. The country of course was all scrubs andsandhills. We saw a few currajong-trees during our day's stage, andwhere we camped there were a number of well-grown eucalyptus-treeswith yellow bark. These seemed to me very like the yellow jackettimber that grows on watercourses in parts of New South Wales andQueensland. The water I had sent out to this place was just sufficientto fill up the camels. The following day, at three miles from thecamp, we came to some large granite boulders in the scrubs; but therewere no receptacles for holding water at any time. At sixteen miles wereached a dry salt lake on our left hand; this continued near our linefor four miles. Both yesterday and to-day we saw some native wallabytraps in the dense scrubs; these are simply long lines of sticks, boughs, bushes, etc. , which, when first laid down, may be over a foothigh; they are sometimes over a quarter of a mile long. These linesmeet each other at nearly right angles, and form a corner. For a fewyards on each side of the corner the fence is raised to between fourand five feet, made somewhat substantial and laid with boughs. Overthis is thrown either a large net or a roofing of boughs. I saw nosigns of nets in this region. The wallaby are hunted until they getalongside the fences; if they are not flurried they will hop along ituntil they get to a part which is too high, or they think it is; thenthey go up into the trap, where there is a small opening, and getknocked on the head for their pains by a black man inside. At twentymiles we actually sighted a low hill. Here was a change. At four milesfarther we reached its foot; there were salt lake depressions nearlyall round us. Here we found a small quantity of the little pea-vetch, which is such excellent food for the camels. 

From the summit of this little hill, the first I had met for nearly800 miles--Mount Finke was the last--another low scrubby ridge lay tothe westward, and nearly across our course, with salt lakesintervening, and others lying nearly all round the horizon. At thefoot of the little hill we encamped. A few hundred acres of groundwere open, and there were clay-pans upon it, but no rain could havefallen here for ages I should imagine. The hill was only 200 feethigh, and it was composed of granite stones. I was glad, however, tosee some granite crop out, as we were now approaching the westerncoast-line formation; this I have always understood to be all granite, and it was about time that something like a change of country shouldoccur. The following day, in making for the low range, we foundourselves caught in the ramifications of some of the salinedepressions, and had to go a long way round to avoid them. Just beforewe reached the low range we passed the shore of another salt lake, which had a hard, firm, and quartz-pebbly bed, and we were enabled totravel across it to the hills; these we reached in sixteen miles fromour last camp. The view from the summit was as discouraging as ever. To the west appeared densely scrubby rises, and to the south many saltchannels existed, while in every other direction scrubs and scrubbyrises bounded the view. This low range was about 300 feet high; theridges beyond continued on our course, a little north of west for twoor three miles, when we again entered the sandy scrubs, and camped, after travelling twenty-eight miles. Our position here was in latitude30 degrees 10' 5", and longitude 122 degrees 7' 6". The next day wehad scrubs undulating as usual, and made a day's stage of twenty-fourmiles, sighting at twelve miles three low ranges, northerly, north-easterly, and east-north-easterly, the most easterly appearingto be the highest. They were from twenty to thirty miles away from ourline. 

On the 9th and 10th October we had all scrubs; on the 11th, towardsevening, we had some scrubby ridges in front of us, and were againhemmed in by salt lakes. To save several miles of roundabouttravelling, we attempted to cross one of these, which, though not verybroad, was exceedingly long to the north and south, and lay rightacross our track. Unfortunately a number of the leading camels becameapparently hopelessly embedded in a fearful bog, and we had greatdifficulty in getting them safely out. It was only by the strenuousexertions of all hands, and by pulling up the camels' legs with ropes, and poking tarpaulins into the vacated holes, that we finally rescuedthem without loss. We then had to carry out all their loads ourselves, and also the huge and weighty pack-saddles. We found it no easy matterto carry 200 pounds, half a load--some of the water-casks weighedmore--on our backs, when nearly up to our necks in the briny mud, onto the firm ground. However, we were most fortunate in having no losswith the camels, for a camel in a bog is the most helpless creatureimaginable. Leaving the bog, we started up the shore of the lake, northerly, where we found some more of the little pea-vetch, andencamped, making only twenty-four miles straight from last camp. Thecamels have had nothing to eat for three nights previously. We sawsome natives' smoke three or four miles away from where we camped, andas there were ridges near it, I intend to send some one there in themorning to look for water. 

We had still some miles to go, to get round the northern end of theboggy lake. Alec Ross and Tommy walked across, to hunt up any tracesof natives, etc. , and to look for water. On clearing this boggyfeature, we ascended into some densely scrubby granite rises; thesehad some bare rocks exposed here and there, but no indentations forholding water could be seen. At fifteen or sixteen miles, havingpassed all the ridges, and entered scrubs and mallee again, Alec andTommy overtook us, Mr. Young having remained behind with their camels, and reported that they had found one small rock-hole. Alec said it hadtwenty or thirty gallons of water in it, but Tommy said there was onlya little drop, so I did not think it worth while to delay by sendingany camels back so far for so little reward. We saw two or three dozengrass-trees to-day, also some quandong and currajong trees, and campedagain in scrubs where there was only a few leguminous bushes for thecamels to eat. We had travelled twenty-eight miles, which only madetwenty-four straight. The last three days had been warm, thethermometer going up to 98 degrees in the shade each day at abouttwelve o'clock; the camels were very thirsty, and would not feed asthe provender was so very poor. 

During the last few days we had met with occasional patches of grassyand clayey ground, generally where the yellow-barked eucalypts grew, and we passed numerous small clay-channels and pans, in whichrain-water might lodge for some time after a shower, but it wasevident from the appearance of the grass and vegetation that no rainscould have visited the region for a year, or it might be for a hundredyears; every vegetable thing seemed dry, sere, or dead. On the 13th ofOctober, at twelve miles from camp, we passed over some more scrubbygranite ridges, where some extent of bare rock lay exposed. I searchedabout it, but the indents were so small and shallow that water couldnot remain in them for more than a week after rains had filled them. While I was searching on foot, Mr. Young and Tommy, from their camels'backs, saw another mass of bare rocks further away to the north-west. I took Tommy with me, on Reechy, and we went over to the spot, whilethe party continued marching on; on arriving we found a very prettypiece of scenery. Several hundred acres of bare rocks, with grassyflats sloping down from them to the west, and forming littlewatercourses or flat water-channels; there were great numbers ofcrows, many fresh natives' tracks, and the smoke of several fires inthe surrounding scrub. Tommy took the lower ground, while I searchedthe rocks. He soon found a small native well in a grassywater-channel, and called out to me. On joining him I found that therewas very little water in sight, but I thought a supply might be gotwith a shovel, and I decided to send him on my camel to bring theparty back, for we had come over 200 miles from Queen Victoria'sSpring, and this was the first water I had seen since leaving there. We gave little Reechy, or as I usually called her Screechy, all thewater we could get out of the well, with one of Tommy's boots; shedrank it out of his hat, and they started away. I fully believed therewas more water about somewhere, and I intended having a good huntuntil either I found it or the party came. I watched Tommy start, ofcourse at full speed, for when he got a chance of riding Screechy hewas in his glory, and as she was behind the mob, and anxious toovertake them, she would go at the rate of twenty miles an hour, ifallowed to gallop; but much to my surprise, when they had gone about200 yards along the grassy water-channel, apparently in an instant, down went Reechy on her knees, and Tommy, still in the saddle, yelledout to me, "Plenty water here! plenty water here!" Reechy, who had nothad half enough at the first place, would not go past this one. 

I walked down and saw a large well with a good body of water in it, evidently permanently supplied by the drainage of the mass of barerocks in its vicinity. I was greatly pleased at Tommy's discovery, andafter giving Reechy a thorough good drink, off he went like a rocketafter the party. I wandered about, but found no other water-place; andthen, thinking of the days that were long enough ago, I sat in theshade of an umbrageous acacia bush. Soon I heard the voices of theangels, native black and fallen angels, and their smokes camegradually nearer. I thought they must have seen me on the top of therocks, and desired to make my further acquaintance. The advancingparty, however, turned out to be only two women coming for water tothe well. They had vessels, usually called coolamins--these are smallwooden troughs, though sometimes made of bark, and are shaped likeminiature canoes--for carrying water to their encampment. When theycame near enough to see what I was, they ran away a short distance, then stopped, turned round, and looked at me. Of course I gave agentle bow, as to something quite uncommon; a man may bend his lowestin a desert to a woman. I also made signs for them to come to thewell, but they dropped their bark coolamins and walked smartly off. Ipicked up these things, and found them to be of a most original, orrather aboriginal, construction. They were made of small sheets of theyellow-tree bark, tied up at the ends with bark-string, thus formingsmall troughs. When filled, some grass or leaves are put on top of thewater to prevent it slopping over. The women carry these troughs ontheir heads. I was not near enough to distinguish whether the womenwere beautiful or not; all I could make out was that one was young andfatter than the other. Amongst aborigines of every clime fatness goesa great way towards beauty. The youngest and fattest was the last todecamp. 

These were the first natives I had seen upon this expedition; noothers appeared while I was by myself. In about four hours the partyarrived; they had travelled six miles past the place when Tommyovertook them. We soon watered all the camels; they were extremelythirsty, for they had travelled 202 miles from Queen Victoria'sSpring, although, in a straight line, we were only 180 miles from it. Almost immediately upon the arrival of the caravan, a number of nativemen and one young boy made their appearance. They were apparentlyquiet and inoffensive, and some of them may have seen white peoplebefore, for one or two spoke a few English words, such as "whitefellow, " "what name, " "boy, " etc. They seemed pleased, but astonishedto see the camels drink such an enormous quantity of water; theycompletely emptied the well, and the natives have probably never seenit empty before. The water drained in pretty fast: in an hour the wellwas as full as ever, and with much purer water than formerly. Therewas plenty of splendid herbage and leguminous bushes here for thecamels. It is altogether a most romantic and pretty place; the littlegrassy channels were green and fresh-looking, and the whole space fora mile around open, and dotted with shady acacia trees and bushes. Between two fine acacias, nearly under the edge of a huge, bareexpanse of rounded rock, our camp was fixed. The slope of the wholearea is to the west. 

It reminded me of Wynbring more than any other place I have seen. Atfirst only eight natives made their appearance, and Mr. Young cut up ared handkerchief into as many strips. These we tied around their regalbrows, and they seemed exceedingly proud of themselves. Towardsevening three or four more came to the camp; one had a large piece ofpearl oyster-shell depending from a string round his neck, another hada queer ornament made of short feathers also depending from the neck;it looked like the mouth of a porte-monnaie. When I wished to examineit, the wearer popped it over his mouth, and opened that extensivefeature to its fullest dimensions, laughing most heartily. He had avery theatrical air, and the extraordinary mouthpiece made him looklike a demon in, or out of, a pantomime. In taking this ornament offhis neck he broke the string, and I supplied him with a piece ofelastic band, so that he could put it on and off without undoing it, whenever he pleased; but the extraordinary phenomenon to him of theextension of a solid was more than he was prepared for, and hescarcely liked to allow it to touch his person again. I put it over myhead first, and this reassured him, so that he wore it again as usual. They seemed a very good-natured lot of fellows, and we gave them atrifle of damper and sugar each. During the morning, before we arrivedhere, Tommy had been most successful in obtaining Lowans' eggs, and wehad eleven or twelve with us. When the natives saw these, which nodoubt they looked upon as their own peculiar and lawful property, theyeyed them with great anxiety, and, pointing to them, they spoke to oneanother, probably expecting that we should hand the eggs over to them;but we didn't do it. At night they went away; their camp could not befar off, as we continually heard the sounds of voices and could seetheir camp fires. Before sunrise the following morning the mercuryfell to 32 degrees; although there was no dew to freeze, to us itappeared to be 100 degrees below zero. The only animals' tracks seenround our well were emus, wild dogs, and Homo sapiens. Lowans andother desert birds and marsupials appear never to approach thewatering-places. 

Our sable friends came very early to breakfast, and brought a few morewhom we had not previously seen; also two somewhat old and fadedfrail, if not fair, ones; soon after a little boy came by himself. This young imp of Satan was just like a toad--all mouth and stomach. It appeared these natives practise the same rites of incision, excision, and semi-circumcision as the Fowler's Bay tribes; and Tommy, who comes from thence, said he could understand a few words thesepeople spoke, but not all; he was too shy to attempt a conversationwith them, but he listened to all they said, and occasionallyinterpreted a few of their remarks to us. These principally referredto where he could have come from and what for. To-day Alec Ross andPeter Nicholls walked over to the natives' encampment, and reportedthat most of the men who had been to our camp were sitting there withnothing to eat in the camp; the women being probably out on a huntingexcursion, whilst they, as lords of creation, waited quietly at theirclub till dinner should be announced. They got very little from me, asI had no surplus food to spare. Nicholls told me they had some tinbillies and shear-blades in the camp, and I noticed that one of thefirst batch we saw had a small piece of coarse cloth on; another had apiece of horse's girth webbing. On questioning the most civilised, andinquiring about some places, whose native names were given on mychart, I found they knew two or three of these, and generally pointedin the proper directions. It was evident they had often seen whitepeople before, if, they had never eaten any. 

One of our cow camels had been very lame for two or three days, andnow we found she had a long mulga stake stuck up through the thicksole of her spongy foot. I got a long piece out with knife and plyers, but its removal did not appear to improve her case, for the wholelower part of her leg was more swollen after than before theextraction of the wood, but I hoped a day or two would put her right. Yesterday, the 15th of October, Mr. Young managed to get the name ofthis place from the natives. They call it Ularring, with the accent onthe second syllable. It is a great relief to my mind to get it, as itsaves me the invidious task of selecting only one name by which tocall the place from the list of my numerous friends. This morning, 16th, our usual visitors arrived; two are most desirous to go westwardwith us when we start. A little later a very pretty little girl cameby herself. She was about nine or ten years old, and immediatelybecame the pet of the camp. All the people of this tribe areexcessively thin, and so was this little creature. She had splendideyes and beautiful teeth, and we soon dressed her up, and gave her agood breakfast. In an hour after her arrival she was as much at homein my camp as though I were her father. She is a merry little thing, but we can't understand a word she says. She evidently takes a greatinterest in everything she sees at the camp, but she didn't seem tocare to look at herself in a glass, though the men always did. 

While we were at dinner to-day a sudden whirl-wind sprang up and senta lot of my loose papers, from where I had been writing, careering sowildly into the air, that I was in great consternation lest I shouldlose several sheets of my journal, and find my imagination put to thetest of inventing a new one. We all ran about after the papers, and sodid some of the blacks, and finally they were all recovered. Mr. Youngcut my initials and date thus: E. Over G. Over 75. , upon a Grevilleaor beef-wood-tree, which grew close to the well. While here we haveenjoyed delightful weather; gentle breezes and shady tree(es), quietand inoffensive aboriginals, with pretty children in the midst of apeaceful and happy camp, situated in charming scenery amidst fantasticrocks, with beautiful herbage and pure water for our almighty beasts. What a delightful oasis in the desert to the weary traveller! Theelder aboriginals, though the words of their mouths were smoother thanbutter, yet war was in their hearts. They appeared to enjoy ourcompany very well. "Each in his place allotted, had silent sat orsquatted, while round their children trotted, in pretty youthful play. One can't but smile who traces the lines on their dark faces, to thepretty prattling graces of these small heathens gay. "

The 16th October, 1875, was drawing to a close, as all itspredecessors from time's remotest infancy have done; the cheery voiceof the expedition cook had called us to our evening meal; as usual wesat down in peaceful contentment, not dreaming that death or dangerwas lurking near, but nevertheless, outside this peaceful scene amighty preparation for our destruction was being made by an army ofunseen and unsuspected foes. 

 "The hunting tribes of air and earth Respect the brethren of their birth; Man only mars kind Nature's plan, And turns the fierce pursuit on man. "

(ILLUSTRATION: ATTACK AT ULARRING. )

Our supper was spread, by chance or Providential interference, alittle earlier than usual. Mr. Young, having finished his meal first, had risen from his seat. I happened to be the last at the festiveboard. In walking towards the place where his bedding was spread uponthe rocks, he saw close to him, but above on the main rock, and atabout the level of his eyes, two unarmed natives making signs to thetwo quiet and inoffensive ones that were in the camp, andinstantaneously after he saw the front rank of a grand and imposingarmy approaching, guided by the two scouts in advance. I had not muchtime to notice them in detail, but I could see that these warriorswere painted, feathered, and armed to the teeth with spears, clubs, and other weapons, and that they were ready for instant action. Mr. Young gave the alarm, and we had only just time to seize our firearmswhen the whole army was upon us. At a first glance this force was mostimposing; the coup d'oeil was really magnificent; they looked likewhat I should imagine a body of Comanche Indians would appear whenranged in battle line. The men were closely packed in serried ranks, and it was evident they formed a drilled and perfectly organisedforce. Immediate action became imminent, and as most fortunately theyhad thought to find us seated at supper, and to spear us as we sat ina body together, we had just time, before fifty, sixty, or a hundredspears could be thrown at us, as I immediately gave the command tofire, to have the first discharge at them. Had it been otherwise notone of us could possibly have escaped their spears--all wouldcertainly have been killed, for there were over a hundred of theenemy, and they approached us in a solid phalanx of five or six rows, each row consisting of eighteen or twenty warriors. Their project nodoubt was, that so soon as any of us was speared by the warriors, theinoffensive spies in the camp were to tomahawk us at their leisure, aswe rolled about in agony from our wounds; but, taken by surprise, their otherwise exceedingly well-organised attack, owing to a slightchange in our supper-hour, was a little too late, and our fire causeda great commotion and wavering in their legion's ordered line. One ofthe quiet and inoffensive spies in the camp, as soon as he saw me jumpup and prepare for action, ran and jumped on me, put his arms round myneck to prevent my firing, and though we could not get a word ofEnglish out of him previously, when he did this, he called out, clinging on to me, with his hand on my throat, "Don't, don't!" I don'tknow if I swore, but I suppose I must, as I was turned away from thethick array with most extreme disgust. I couldn't disengage myself; Icouldn't attend to the main army, for I had to turn my attentionentirely to this infernal encumbrance; all I could do was to yell out"Fire! fire for your lives. " I intended to give the spy a taste of myrifle first, but in consequence of his being in such close quarters tome, and my holding my rifle with one hand, while I endeavoured to freemyself with the other, I could not point the muzzle at my assailant, and my only way of clearing myself from his hold was by battering hishead with the butt end of the weapon with my right hand, while hestill clung round my left side. At last I disengaged myself, and helet go suddenly, and slipped instantly behind one of the thick acaciabushes, and got away, just as the army in front was wavering. All thisdid not occupy many seconds of time, and I believe my final shotdecided the battle. The routed army, carrying their wounded, disappeared behind the trees and bushes beyond the bare rock where thebattle was fought, and from whence not many minutes before they had sogallantly emerged. This was the best organised and most disciplinedaboriginal force I ever saw. They must have thoroughly digested theirplan of attack, and sent not only quiet and inoffensive spies into thecamp, but a pretty little girl also, to lull any suspicions of theirevil intentions we might have entertained. Once during the day thelittle girl sat down by me and began a most serious discourse in herown language, and as she warmed with her subject she got up, gesticulated and imitated the action of natives throwing spears, pointed towards the natives' camp, stamped her foot on the groundclose to me, and was no doubt informing me of the intended onslaughtof the tribe. As, however, I did not understand a word she said, I didnot catch her meaning either; besides, I was writing, and she nearlycovered me with dust, so that I thought her a bit of a juvenile bore. 

After the engagement we picked up a great number of spears and otherweapons, where the hostile army had stood. The spears were long, light, and barbed, and I could not help thinking how much more I likedthem on my outside than my in. I destroyed all the weapons I could layhold of, much to the disgust of the remaining spy, who had kept quietall through the fray. He seems to be some relative of the little girl, for they always go about together; she may probably be his intendedwife. During the conflict, this little creature became almost franticwith excitement, and ran off to each man who was about to fire, especially Nicholls, the cook, with whom she seemed quite in love, patting him on the back, clapping her small hands, squeaking out herdelight, and jumping about like a crow with a shirt on. While thefight was in progress, in the forgetfulness of his excitation, myblack boy Tommy began to speak apparently quite fluently in theirlanguage to the two spies, keeping up a running conversation with themnearly all the time. It seemed that the celebrated saying ofTalleyrand, "Language was only given to man to conceal his thought, "was thoroughly understood by my seemingly innocent and youthfulFowler's Bay native. When I taxed him with his extraordinary conduct, he told me the natives had tried to induce him to go with them totheir camp, but his natural timidity had deterred him and saved hislife; for they would certainly have killed him if he had gone. Afterthe attack, Tommy said, "I tole you black fellow coming, " though wedid not recollect that he had done so. The spy who had fastened on tome got away in an opposite direction to that taken by the defeatedarmy. The other spy and the girl remained some little time after theaction, and no one saw them depart, although we became at last awareof their absence. We kept watch during the night, as a precautionafter such an attack, although I had not instituted watchingpreviously. There was a dead silence in the direction of the enemy'sencampment, and no sounds but those of our camel-bells disturbed thestillness of the luminous and lunar night. 

On the following morning, at earliest dawn, the screams and howls of anumber of the aborigines grated harshly upon our ears, and we expectedand prepared for a fresh attack. The cries continued for some time, but did not approach any nearer. After breakfast, the little girl andher protector, the quietest of the two spies, made their appearance atthe camp as composedly as though nothing disagreeable had occurred tomar our friendship, but my personal antagonist did not reappear--heprobably had a headache which kept him indoors. I had given the girl ashirt when she first came to the camp, and Peter Nicholls had givenher protector an old coat, which was rather an elongated affair; ontheir arrival this morning, these graceful garments had beenexchanged, and the girl appeared in the coat, trailing two feet on theground, and the man wore the shirt, which scarcely adorned him enough. I gave them some breakfast and they went away, but returned verypunctually to dinner. Then I determined not to allow them to remainany longer near us, so ordered them off, and they departed, apparentlyvery reluctantly. I felt very much inclined to keep the little girl. Although no doubt they still continued watching us, we saw them nomore. 

I got Mr. Young to plant various seeds round this well. No doubt theremust be other waters in this neighbourhood, as none of the nativeshave used our well since we came, but we could not find any other. 

The following day was Sunday. What a scene our camp would havepresented to-day had these reptiles murdered us! It does not strikethe traveller in the wilderness, amongst desert scenes and hostileIndians, as necessary that he should desire the neighbourhood of atemple, or even be in a continual state of prayer, yet we worshipNature, or the God of Nature, in our own way; and although we have nochapel or church to go to, yet we are always in a temple, which aScottish poet has so beautifully described as "The Temple of Nature. "He says:--

 "Talk not of temples; there is one, Built without hands, to mankind given; Its lamps are the meridian sun, And the bright stars of heaven. Its walls are the cerulean sky, Its floor the earth so green and fair; Its dome is vast immensity: All nature worships there. "

We, of a surety, have none of the grander features of Nature toadmire; but the same Almighty Power which smote out the vast AndeanRanges yet untrod, has left traces of its handywork here. Even thegreat desert in which we have so long been buried must suggest to thereflecting mind either God's perfectly effected purpose, or Hispurposely effected neglect; and, though I have here and there foundplaces where scanty supplies of the element of water were to be found, yet they are at such enormous distances apart, and the regions inwhich they exist are of so utterly worthless a kind, that it seems tobe intended by the great Creator that civilised beings should neverre-enter here. And then our thoughts must naturally wander to theformation and creation of those mighty ships of the desert, that alonecould have brought us here, and by whose strength and incomprehensiblepowers of endurance, only are we enabled to leave this desert behind. In our admiration of the creature, our thoughts are uplifted inreverence and worship to the Designer and Creator of such things, adapted, no doubt, by a wise selection from an infinite variety ofliving forms, for myriads of creative periods, and with aforeknowledge that such instruments would be requisite for theintelligent beings of a future time, to traverse those areas of thedesert earth that it had pleased Him in wisdom to permit to remainsecluded from the more lovely places of the world and the familiarhaunts of civilised man. Here, too, we find in this fearful waste, this howling wilderness, this country vast and desert idle, placesscooped out of the solid rock, and the mighty foundations of the roundworld laid bare, that the lower organism of God's human family mayfind their proper sustenance; but truly the curse must have gone forthmore fearfully against them, and with a vengeance must it have beenproclaimed, by the sweat of their brows must they obtain their bread. No doubt it was with the intention of obtaining ours, thus reaping theharvest of unfurrowed fields, that these natives were induced to makeso murderous an attack upon us. We neither saw nor heard anything moreof our sable enemies, and on the 18th we departed out of their coasts. This watering place, Ularring, is situated in latitude 29 degrees 35', and longitude 120 degrees 31' 4". 

CHAPTER 4. 4. FROM 18TH OCTOBER TO 18TH NOVEMBER, 1875. 

Depart from Ularring. Re-enter scrubs. Scrubs more dense. A known point. Magnetic rocks. Lowans' eggs. Numbers of the birds. Crows, hawks. Natives and water. Induce natives to decamp. Unusually vigorous growth of scrubs. Alec sights Mount Churchman. Bronze-winged pigeons. Pigeon Rocks. Depart. Edge of a cliff. Mount Churchman in view. Some natives arrive. A wandering pet. Lake Moore. Rock-holes. Strike old dray tracks. An outlying sheep-station. The first white man seen. Dinner of mutton. Exploring at an end. Civilisation once more. Tootra. All sorts and conditions come to interview us. A monastery. A feu-de-joie. The first telegraph station. Congratulatory messages. Intimations of receptions. A triumphal march. Messrs. Clunes Brothers. An address. Culham. White ladies. Newcastle. A triumphal arch. A fine tonic. Tommy's speech. Unscientific profanity. Guildford on the Swan. Arrival at Perth. Reception by the Mayor. The city decorated. Arrival at the Town Hall. A shower of garlands. A beautiful address. A public reception at Fremantle. Return to Perth. And festivities. Remarks. 

(ILLUSTRATION: FORCING A PASSAGE THROUGH THE SCRUBS IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA. )

On the 18th we departed. Mount Churchman was now not much more than150 miles away. I felt sure we should reach it at last. It was late inthe day when we left the camp, and immediately re-entered the denseand odious scrubs, which were more than usually thick. We passed asmall salt-lake bed on our right, and made good twenty miles by night, which fell with cold and wind and threatened rain. At three or fourmiles the next morning, we saw some bare granite rocks to the south, and noticed the tops of some low ranges to the north, but these werepartially hidden by some nearer ridges. The summit of one of these wasa mass of exposed rock, similar in appearance to Ularring andremarkably high, but as it was five or six miles away from our line, which was now nearly west, we did not visit it. At fifteen miles fromcamp we sighted from the top of an undulation in the scrub, a pointedhill a little south of west, also another higher and longer, and lyingmore southerly. We could not reach the pointed hill by night. Thecountry is now more densely scrubby than ever, and although we toiledthe whole day, we only made good twenty-four miles. Upon nearing thehill the following morning we saw some grass-trees and passed betweentwo salt-lakes. At ten miles Mr. Young and I were upon the top of thehill; the scrubs surrounding it were so terribly thick that I thoughtwe should have to chop our way through them, and we had the greatestdifficulty in getting the caravan to move along at all. I was muchsurprised at the view I obtained here; in the first place as we werenow gradually approaching Mount Churchman, the hill to the south was, or should have been, Mount Jackson, but according to my chart therewere no hills visible in any easterly or northeasterly direction fromMount Jackson, whereas from the range to the south, not only the hillI was upon, but all the others in various directions, must also havebeen seen from it. This was rather puzzling, and the only way I couldaccount for the anomaly was that either Gregory had never ascendedMount Jackson at all, though according to his map he calls the wholeeastern country beyond it sand plains, or these hills have been thrownup since 1846. The latter I cannot believe. The composition of thishill was almost iron itself, and there were some fused stones likevolcanic slag upon it. It was too magnetic for working angles with acompass; it was between 500 and 600 feet above the surroundingregions. The horizon from east, north-east, round by north, thence tothe west and south, was bounded by low ranges, detached into sevengroups; the white beds of small lakes were visible running up to thenorthern, or north eastern group, the intervening country being, asusual, all scrubs, which grew even to the summits of the hills. Theview from this hill was enough to terrify the spectator; my onlyconsolation in gazing at so desolate a scene, was that my task wasnearly accomplished, and nothing should stop me now. A second pointedhill lay nearly west, and we pushed on to this, but could not reach itby night. 

To-day we managed to get thirty-four Lowans' eggs, yesterday we hadsecured twenty-seven. These birds swarm in these scrubs, and theireggs form a principal item in the daily fare of the natives during thelaying season. We seldom see the birds, but so long as we get the eggsI suppose we have no great cause of complaint. In the morning wereached and ascended the second hill. Some other hills a few milesaway ended nearly west, and bare granite rocks appeared a few milesbeyond them, which I determined to visit. This hill was of similarformation to the last-described. The far horizon to the west being allscrub, Mount Churchman should have been visible, but it was not. Thesight of the country from any of these hills is truly frightful; itseemed as though the scrubs were to end only with our journey. Ondescending, we pushed on for the rocks, and reached them in twelvemiles from the last camp. As we neared them, we could distinguish alarge extent of bare rock, and it seemed likely that we should findwater, as we saw a number of crows and hawks, and we soon became awareof the presence of natives also, for they began to yell so soon asthey perceived our approach. A well was soon found, and our camp fixedbeside it. The natives were numerous here, but whether they were ourold enemies or not I could not say; yet I fancied I recognised one ortwo among them, and to let them see that our ammunition was not yetexhausted, I fired my rifle in the air. This had the effect ofinducing them, whether friends or foes, to decamp, and we were nottroubled with them while we were here. I did not wish for a repetitionof the Ularring affair. The well was shallow, with a good supply ofwater, and there were a few scores of acres of open ground around therocks, though the scrubs came as close as possible. This spot wasseventy-seven miles from Ularring; our well was situated at what maybe called the north-east corner of these rocks; at the south-west endthere is another and larger valley, where I saw two wells. On Sunday, the 22nd of October, we rested here. The old lame cow is still verybad, I am afraid she cannot travel much farther. Yesterday and to-daywere rather warm, the thermometer indicating 94 and 96 degrees in theshade. The upheaval of the few hills we have lately passed seems tohave induced an unusually vigorous growth of scrubs, for they are nowdenser and more hideous than ever. 

Alec Ross stated that he had seen, from the last hill, another, faraway, due west, but nobody else saw it. If such a hill exists it isover eighty miles away from where seen, and it must be MountChurchman. No views to any distance could be had from these rocks, asthe undulations of the scrubs occur continuously throughout thedesert, at almost regular intervals of a few miles, from seven totwenty. 

After dinner on the 23rd I had intended to leave this place, but uponmustering the camels I found that not only was the lame cow worse, butanother of the cows had calved, and our family was increased by theadvent of a little cow-calf about the size of a rabbit. This preventedour departure. The calf was killed, and the mother remained with herdead offspring, whereby she comprehended her loss, and this willprevent her endeavouring to return to it after we leave. We obtained agood many bronze-winged pigeons here, and I called the place thePigeon Rocks. Their position is in latitude 29 degrees 58' 4" andlongitude 119 degrees 15' 3". To-day the thermometer rose to 100degrees in the shade, and at night a very squally thunderstorm, comingfrom the west, agreeably cooled the atmosphere, although no rain fell. On the 24th we left the Pigeon Rocks, still steering west, andtravelled twenty-five miles through the dense scrubs, with anoccasional break, on which a few of the yellow-bark gum-trees grew. They are generally of a vigorous and well grown habit. The poor oldlame cow followed as usual, but arrived at the camp a long while afterus. The next day we progressed twenty-five miles to the westward, andat evening we tore through a piece of horrible scrub, or thickets, andarrived at the edge of a cliff which stood, perpendicularly, 200 feetover the surrounding country. This we had to circumnavigate in orderto descend. 

Right on our course, being in the proper latitude, and twenty-seven ortwenty-eight miles away, was a small hill, the object I had traversedso many hundreds of miles of desert to reach, and which I wasdelighted to know, was Mount Churchman. The country between the cliffand Mount Churchman was filled to overflowing with the densest ofscrubs; Nature seemed to have tried how much of it she could possiblyjam into this region. We encamped at the foot of the cliff. We gotseveral Lowans'--or, as the West Australians call them, Gnows'--eggs, thirty yesterday, and forty-five to-day. At night the old lame cow didnot arrive at the camp, nor was she with the mob the next morning; Iwished her to remain at the Pigeon Rocks, but of course she persistedin following her kindred so long as she could, but now she hasremained behind of her own accord, she will no doubt return there, andif she recovers will most probably go back to Beltana by herself, perhaps exploring a new line of country on the way. 

(ILLUSTRATION: FIRST VIEW OF MT. CHURCHMAN. )

The following day we hoped to reach Mount Churchman, but the scrubswere so frightful we could not get there by night, though we travelledwithout stopping for twelve hours. To-day we got only twenty eggs. To-night and last night a slight dew fell, the first for a long time. Early on the morning of the 27th of October I stood upon the summit ofMount Churchman; and, though no mention whatever is made upon thechart of the existence of water there, we found a native well whichsupplied all our wants. In the afternoon some natives made theirappearance; they were partly clothed. The party consisted of an oldishman, a very smart and good-looking young fellow, and a handsome littleboy. The young fellow said his own name was Charlie, the boy's Albert, and the older one's Billy. It is said a good face is the best letterof introduction, but Charlie had a better one, as I had lost a littleivory-handled penknife on the road yesterday, and they had comeacross, and followed our tracks, and picked it up. Charlie, without amoment's questioning, brought it to me; he was too polite, tooagreeable altogether, and evidently knew too much; he knew the countryall the way to Perth, and also to Champion Bay. It occurred to me thathe had been somebody's pet black boy, that had done something, and hadbolted away. He told me the nearest station to us was called Nyngham, Mount Singleton on the chart, in a north-west direction. The stationbelonged, he said, to a Mr. Cook, and that we could reach it in fourdays, but as I wished to make south-westerly for Perth, I did not gothat way. The day was very warm, thermometer 99 degrees in shade. 

(ILLUSTRATION: THE FIRST WHITE MAN MET IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA. )

This mount is called Geelabing on the chart, but Charlie did not knowit by that name. He and the other two came on and camped with us thatnight. Our course was nearly south-west; we only travelled elevenmiles. The following day our three friends departed, as they said, tovisit Nyngham, while we pursued our own course, and reached the shoresof the dry salt-lake Moore. In about thirty miles we found some rockwater-holes, and encamped on the edge of the lake, where we saw oldhorse and cattle tracks. We next crossed the lake-bed, which was sevenmiles wide. No doubt there is brine in some parts of it, but where Icrossed it was firm and dry. We left it on the 30th of October, andtravelling upon a course nearly west-south-west, we struck some olddray tracks, at a dried-up spring, on the 3rd of November, which I didnot follow, as they ran eastwards. From there I turned south, andearly on the 4th we came upon an outlying sheep station; its buildingsconsisting simply of a few bark-gunyahs. There was not even a single, rude hut in the dingle; blacks' and whites' gunyahs being all alike. Had I not seen some clothes, cooking utensils, etc. , at one of them, Ishould have thought that only black shepherds lived there. A shallowwell, and whip for raising the water into a trough, was enclosed by afence, and we watered our camels there. The sheep and shepherd wereaway, and although we were desperately hungry for meat, not having hadany for a month, we prepared to wait until the shepherd should comehome in the evening. While we were thinking over these matters, awhite man came riding up. He apparently did not see us, nor did hishorse either, until they were quite close; then his horse suddenlystopped and snorted, and he shouted out, "Holy sailor, what's that?"He was so extraordinarily surprised at the appearance of the caravanthat he turned to gallop away. However, I walked to, and reassuredhim, and told him who I was and where I had come from. Of course hewas an Irishman, and he said, "Is it South Austhralia yez come from?Shure I came from there meself. Did yez crass any say? I don't know, sure I came by Albany; I never came the way you've come at all. Shure, I wilcome yez, in the name of the whole colony. I saw something aboutyez in the paper not long ago. Can I do anything for yez? This is notmy place, but the shepherd is not far; will I go and find him?""Faith, you may, " I said, "and get him to bring the flock back, sothat we can get a sheep for dinner. " And away he went, and soonreturned with the shepherd, sheep, black assistants and their wives;and we very soon had a capital meal of excellent mutton. While it wasin process of cooking the shepherd despatched a black boy to thenearest farm, or settlement, for coffee, butter, sugar, eggs, etc. Themessenger returned at night with everything. Exploring had now come toan end; roads led to, and from, all the other settled districts of thecolony, and we were in the neighbourhood of civilisation once more. This out-station was the farthest attempt at settlement towards theeast, in this part of the colony. It was called Tootra, and belongedto the Messrs. Clunes Brothers, who live lower down the country. 

On the 6th of November we passed by the farm where the black boy hadgot the coffee, sugar, etc. ; it belonged to a Mr. Joyce. We did notstay there very long, the people did not seem to know what to make of, and never said anything to, us. That evening we reached Mr. Clarke'shomestead, called Inderu, where we were treated with the greatestkindness by every member of the family. They gave us eggs, butter, jam, and spirits, and despatched a messenger with a letter to SirThomas Elder's agent at Fremantle. Here we were also met by young Mr. Lefroy, son of the Hon. O'Grady Lefroy, Treasurer and acting ColonialSecretary for the Colony, who took us off to his station, Walebing, where we remained some days, thoroughly enjoying a recruiting at soagreeable a place. We had to depart at last, and were next entertainedby Mr. And Mrs. McPherson, as we passed by their station calledGlentromie. So soon as the news spread amongst the settlers that acaravan of camels had arrived, bushmen and girls, boys and children, came galloping from all parts, while their elders drove whatevervehicles they could lay their hands on, to come and see the newarrivals. The camels were quite frightened at the people gallopingabout them. Our next reception was at a Spanish Benedictine Monasteryand Home for natives, called New Norcia. This Monastery was presidedover by the Right Reverend Lord Bishop Salvado, the kindest and mosturbane of holy fathers. We were saluted on our arrival, by a regularfeu-de-joie, fired off by the natives and half-castes belonging to themission. The land and property of this establishment is some of thebest in the Colony. Here was the first telegraph station we hadreached, and I received a number of congratulatory telegrams from mostof the leading gentlemen in Perth; from His Excellency the Governor'sprivate secretary, the Press, and my brother-explorer Mr. JohnForrest. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ARRIVAL AT CULHAM (SAMUEL PHILLIPS'S. ))

Intimations of intended receptions, by corporations, and addresses tobe presented, with invitations to banquets and balls, poured in, inoverwhelming numbers; so that on leaving the Monastery I knew theseries of ordeals that were in store for me. His Excellency theGovernor, Sir William Robinson, K. C. M. G. , most kindly despatched Mr. John Forrest with a carriage to meet us. From the Monastery ourtriumphal march began. The appearance of a camel caravan in anyEnglish community, away from camel countries, is likely to awaken thecuriosity of every one; but it is quite a matter of doubt whether we, or the camels caused the greater sensation as we advanced. A few milesfrom the monastery we passed the station of Messrs. Clunes Brothers, at whose farthest out-station we had first come upon a settlement. These gentlemen were most kind and hospitable, and would not acceptany payment for two fine wether sheep which we had eaten. A shortdistance from their residence we passed a district countryschool-house, presided over by Mr. J. M. Butler, and that gentleman, onbehalf of Messrs. Clunes, the residents of the locality, his scholars, and himself, presented us with a congratulatory address. Pushingonwards towards the metropolis we arrived, on Saturday, November 13th, at Mr. Samuel Phillips's station, Culham, where that gentleman invitedus to remain during Sunday. Here, for the first time, we had thepleasure of enjoying the society of ladies, being introduced to Mrs. Phillips, her sister-in-law Mrs. Fane, and their several daughters. The whole family combined to make us welcome, and as much at home aspossible. Here also Mr. Forrest joined us, and welcomed us to his ownnative land. The camels were put into an excellent paddock, andenjoyed themselves almost as much as their masters. Culham is nine orten miles from Newcastle, the first town site we should reach. We wereinvited thither by the Mayor and Council, or rather the Chairman andCouncil of the Municipality. 

At Newcastle we were received under a triumphal arch, and the Chairmanpresented us with an address. We were then conducted to a sumptuousbanquet. Near the conclusion, the Chairman rose to propose ourhealths, etc. ; he then gratified us by speaking disparagingly of usand our journey; he said he didn't see what we wanted to come overhere for, that they had plenty of explorers of their own, etc. Thiswas something like getting a hostile native's spear stuck into one'sbody, and certainly a fine tonic after the champagne. Severalgentlemen in the hall protested against these remarks. I made a shortreply; Mr. Tietkens put a little humour into his, and all coolnesswore away, especially when Tommy made a speech. He was a greatfavourite with the "General, " and was well looked after during therepast. When we had all said our say, Tommy was urged to speak; he wasvery bashful, and said, "I don't know what to say;" the people nearhim said, "Never mind, Tommy, say anything;" so he rose in his seatand simply said "Anything, " whereupon everybody laughed, and jovialitywas restored. In the evening a ball took place in our honour; the oldChairman went to bed, and we all danced till morning. Never after didwe hear anything but compliments and commendations, as what was thensaid was against the sense of the whole Colony. The next town wearrived at was Guildford; on the road the caravan passed by asplitters' camp, the men there came round the camels, and as usualstared wide-eyed with amazement. One of them begged Alec Ross, who wasconducting the camels, to wait till a mate of theirs who was awayreturned, so that he might see them; but as we were bound to time andhad our stages arranged so that we should reach Perth by a certaintime, this could not be done, and the camels went on. By-and-by a mancame galloping up as near as his horse would come to the camels, andcalled out: "Hi there, hold on, you *** wretches; do you think I'd agalloped after yer ter see such little *** things as them? why, theyain't no bigger nor a *** horse [there were camels seven feet high inthe mob]; why, I thought they was as big as *** clouds, or else I'dnever a come all this *** way to see them, " etc. He interspersed thisaddress with many adjectives, but as nobody took the slightest noticeof him, he started away, banning and blaspheming as he went, and foran uneducated, unscientific West Australian, his, was not a bad effortat profanity. 

(ILLUSTRATION: ARRIVAL AT PERTH. )

(ILLUSTRATION: ARRIVAL AT THE TOWN HALL, PERTH, WESTERN AUSTRALIA. )

At Guildford, a town-site on the Swan, we were publicly received bythe Mayor, Mr. Spurling, the Town Council, various bodies and lodges, and a detachment of volunteers. We were presented with addresses fromthe Town Council, and Mr. Spurling made a most handsome speech, whichremoved any remains of the taste of the Newcastle tonic. The Lodges ofOddfellows and Good Templars also presented us with addresses. TheChairman of the latter made a little Good Templar capital out of thefact of our having achieved such a great feat entirely on water. Tothis I replied, that it was true we had accomplished our journey onwater, and very little of it, but that if we had had anything strongerwe should certainly have drunk it, if only to make our water supplylast the longer. Then a banquet was spread, which was attended also byladies, and was a most agreeable entertainment, and the evening woundup with a ball. Guildford being only ten or eleven miles from Perth, at about three p. M. Of the next day we approached the city, riding ourcamels, and having the whole of the caravan in regular desert-marchingorder. A great number of people came out, both riding and driving, tomeet us, and escorted us into the city; Mr. Forrest was now onhorseback and riding alongside of me. 

After traversing the long wooden causeway that bridges the Swan, wesoon reached the city bounds, and were met by the Mayor, Mr. GeorgeShenton, and the other members of the City Council, companies ofvolunteers lined the streets on either side, and the various bodies ofFreemasons, Oddfellows, and Good Templars, accompanied by the brassband of the latter, took a part in the procession. A great crowd ofcitizens assembled, and the balconies of the houses on both sides werethronged with the fair sex, and garlands of flowers were showered downupon us. The streets of the city were decorated with flags andstreamers, and scrolls of welcome were stretched across. Theprocession moved along to the Town Hall amidst general cheering. Wewere ushered into the spacious hall, and placed on a raised platform, then we were introduced to most of the gentlemen present. The Mayorthen addressed me in most eulogistic terms, and presented me with anaddress on vellum, beautifully illuminated and engrossed, on behalf ofthe corporation and citizens of Perth, congratulating myself, andparty on our successful exploration across the unknown interior fromSouth Australia, and warmly expressing the good feelings of welcomeentertained by the citizens towards us. 

After this a round of festivities set in; among these were a publicbanquet and ball in our honour by the Mayor and Corporation of thecity of Perth and a dinner and ball at Government House. A publicreception also awaited us at Fremantle, on the coast. On our arrivalat the long, high, wooden structure that spans the broad mouth of theriver at Fremantle, we were again met by eager crowds. Mr. Forrestrode near me on this occasion also. When entering Perth, I had a greatdeal of trouble to induce my riding-camel, Reechy, to lead, but whenentering Fremantle she fairly jibbed, and I had to walk and lead her, so that I was hidden in the crowd, and Mr. Tietkens, coming next tome, appeared to be the leader, as his camel went all right. Thebalconies and verandahs here were also thronged with ladies, whoshowered down heaps of garlands while they cheered. I was completelyhidden, and they threw all the flowers down on Tietkens, so that hegot all the honour from the ladies. Here another beautiful address waspresented to me by Mr. John Thomas, the Chairman of the Town Council, and a public banquet was given us. On returning to Perth, we hadinvitations from private individuals to balls, dinners, pic-nics, boating and riding parties, and the wife of the Honourable O'GradyLefroy started the ball giving immediately after that at GovernmentHouse. Mr. Forrest gave us a dinner at the Weld Club. 

Since our arrival in the settled parts of Western Australia, we havehad every reason to believe that our welcome was a genuine one, everybody having treated us with the greatest kindness and courtesy. His Excellency the Governor ordered that all our expenses down thecountry, from where Mr. Forrest met us, should be defrayed by theGovernment; and having been so welcomed by the settlers on our arrivalat each place, I had no occasion to expend a penny on our marchthrough the settled districts of the Colony. 

In concluding the tale of a long exploration, a few remarks arenecessary. In the first place I travelled during the expedition, incovering the ground, 2500 miles; but unfortunately found no areas ofcountry suitable for settlement. This was a great disappointment tome, as I had expected far otherwise; but the explorer does not makethe country, he must take it as he finds it. His duty is to penetrateit, and although the greatest honour is awarded and the greatestrecompense given to the discoverer of the finest regions, yet it mustbe borne in mind, that the difficulties of traversing those regionscannot be nearly so great as those encountered by the less fortunatetraveller who finds himself surrounded by heartless deserts. Thesuccessful penetration of such a region must, nevertheless, have itsvalue, both in a commercial and a geographical sense, as it points outto the future emigrant or settler, those portions of our continentwhich he should rigorously avoid. It never could have entered into anyone's calculations that I should have to force my way through a regionthat rolls its scrub-enthroned, and fearful distance out, for hundredsof leagues in billowy undulations, like the waves of a timbered sea, and that the expedition would have to bore its way, like moles in theearth, for so long, through these interminable scrubs, with nothing toview, and less to cheer. Our success has traced a long and a drearyroad through this unpeopled waste, like that to a lion's abode, fromwhence no steps are retraced. The caravan for months was slowly butsurely plodding on, under those trees with which it has pleasedProvidence to bedeck this desolate waste. But this expedition, asorganised, equipped, and intended by Sir Thomas Elder, was a thing ofsuch excellence and precision, it moved along apparently by mechanicalaction; and it seemed to me, as we conquered these frightful desertsby its power, like playing upon some new fine instrument, as wewandered, like rumour, "from the Orient to the Drooping West, "--

 "From where the Torrens wanders, 'Midst corn and vines and flowers, To where fair Perth still lifts to heaven Her diadem of towers. "

The labours of the expedition ended only at the sea at Fremantle, theseaport of the west; and after travelling under those trees formonths, from eastern lands through a region accurst, we were greetedat last by old Ocean's roar; Ocean, the strongest of creation's sons, "that rolls the wild, profound, eternal bass in Nature's anthem. " Theofficers, Mr. Tietkens and Mr. Young, except for occasional outburstsof temper, and all the other members of the expedition, acted in everyway so as to give me satisfaction; and when I say that the personnelof the expedition behaved as well as the camels, I cannot formulategreater praise. 

It will readily be believed that I did not undertake a fourthexpedition in Australia without a motive. Sir Thomas Elder had everbeen kind to me since I had known him, and my best thanks were due tohim for enabling me to accomplish so difficult an undertaking; butthere were others also I wished to please; and I have done my bestendeavours upon this arduous expedition, with the hope that I might"win the wise, who frowned before to smile at last. "

BOOK 5. 

CHAPTER 5. 1. FROM 18TH NOVEMBER, 1875, TO 10TH APRIL, 1876. 

Remarks on the last expedition. Departure of my two officers. Expedition leaves Perth. Invited to York. Curiosity to see the caravan. Saleh and Tommy's yarns. Tipperary. Northam. Newcastle again. A pair of watch(ful) guards. St. Joseph's. Messrs. Clunes. The Benedictine monastery. Amusing incident. A new road. Berkshire Valley. Triumphal arch. Sandal-wood. Sheep poison. Cornamah. A survey party. Irwin House. Dongarra. An address presented. A French gentleman. Greenough Flats. Another address. Tommy's tricks. Champion Bay. Palmer's camp. A bull-camel poisoned. The Bowes. Yuin. A native desperado captured. His escape. Cheangwa. Native girls and boys. Depart for the interior. Natives follow us. Cooerminga. The Sandford. Moodilah. Barloweerie Peak. Pia Spring. Mount Murchison. Good pastoral country. Farewell to the last white man. 

After having crossed the unknown central interior, and havingtraversed such a terrible region to accomplish that feat, it might bereasonably supposed that my labours as an explorer would cease, andthat I might disband the expedition and send the members, camels, andequipment back to Adelaide by ship, especially as in my closingremarks on my last journey I said that I had accomplished the task Ihad undertaken, and effected the object of my expedition. This wascertainly the case, but I regarded what had been done as only the halfof my mission; and I was as anxious now to complete my work as I hadbeen to commence it, when Sir Thomas Elder started me out. Theremaining portion was no less than the completion of the line I hadbeen compelled to leave unfinished by the untimely loss of Gibson, during my horse expedition of 1874. My readers will remember that, having pushed out west from my depot at Fort McKellar, in theRawlinson Range, I had sighted another line of hills, which I hadcalled the Alfred and Marie Range, and which I had been unable toreach. It was therefore my present wish and intention to traverse thatparticular region, and to connect my present explorations with myformer ones with horses. By travelling northwards until I reached theproper latitude, I might make an eastern line to the Rawlinson Range. That Gibson's Desert existed, well I knew; but how far west from theRawlinson it actually extended, was the problem I now wished to solve. As Sir Thomas Elder allowed me carte blanche, I began a fresh journeywith this object. The incidents of that journey this last book willrecord. 

My readers may imagine us enjoying all the gaieties and pleasures sucha city as Perth, in Western Australia, could supply. Myself and twoofficers were quartered at the Weld Club; Alec Ross and the others hadquarters at the United Service Club Hotel nearly opposite; and takingit altogether, we had very good times indeed. The fountains ofchampagne seemed loosened throughout the city during my stay; and thewine merchants became nervous lest the supply of what then becameknown as "Elder wine" should get exhausted. I paid a visit down thecountry southwards, to Bunbury, The Vasse, and other places ofinterest in that quarter. Our residence at Perth was extended to twomonths. Saleh was in his glory. The camels were out in a paddock, where they did not do very well, as there was only one kind of acaciatree upon which they could browse. Occasionally Saleh had to take twoor three riding camels to Government House, as it became quite thething, for a number of young ladies to go there and have a ride onthem; and on those days Saleh was resplendent. On every finger, hewore a ring, he had new, white and coloured, silk and satin, clothes, covered with gilt braid; two silver watches, one in each side-pocketof his tunic; and two jockey whips, one in each hand. He used to tellpeople that he brought the expedition over, and when he went back hewas sure Sir Thomas Elder would fit him out with an expedition of hisown. Tommy was quite a young coloured swell, too; he would go aboutthe town, fraternise with people, treat them to drinks at any hotel, and tell the landlord, when asked for payment, that the liquor was forthe expedition. Every now and again I had little bills presented to mefor refreshments supplied to Mr. Oldham. Alec Ross expended a gooddeal of his money in making presents to young ladies; and PeterNicholls was quite a victim to the fair sex of his class. I managed toescape these terrible dangers, though I can't tell how. 

Both my officers left for South Australia by the mail steamer. Mr. Tietkens was the more regretted. I did not wish him to leave, but hesaid he had private business to attend to. I did not request Mr. Youngto accompany me on my return journey, so they went to Adelaidetogether. The remainder of the party stayed until the 13th of January, 1876, when the caravan departed from Perth on its homeward route toSouth Australia, having a new line of unexplored country to traversebefore we could reach our goal. My projected route was to lie nearly400 miles to the north of the one by which I arrived; and upon leavingPerth we travelled up the country, through the settled districts, toChampion Bay, and thence to Mount Gould, close to the River Murchison. 

Before leaving the city I was invited by the Mayor and Municipality ofthe town of York, to visit that locality; this invitation I, ofcourse, accepted, as I was supposed to be out on show. My party nowconsisted of only four other members besides myself, namely, youngAlec Ross, now promoted to the post of second in command, PeterNicholls, still cook, Saleh, and Tommy Oldham. At York we wereentertained, upon our arrival, at a dinner. York was a very agreeablelittle agricultural town, the next in size to Fremantle. Bushmen, farmers, and country people generally, flocked in crowds to see bothus and the camels. It was amusing to watch them, and to hear theremarks they made. Saleh and Tommy used to tell the most outrageousyarns about them; how they could travel ten miles an hour with theirloads, how they carried water in their humps, that the cows ate theircalves, that the riding bulls would tear their riders' legs off withtheir teeth if they couldn't get rid of them in any other way. Theseyarns were not restricted to York, they were always going on. 

The day after leaving York we passed Mr. Samuel Burgess'sestablishment, called Tipperary, where we were splendidly entertainedat a dinner, with his brothers and family. The Messrs. Burgess areamong the oldest and wealthiest residents in the Colony. From hence wetravelled towards a town-site called Northam, and from thence toNewcastle, where we were entertained upon our first arrival. A lady inNewcastle, Mrs. Dr. Mayhew, presented me with a pair of little spottedpuppies, male and female, to act for us, as she thought, as watch(ful)guards against the attacks of hostile natives in the interior. Andalthough they never distinguished themselves very much in thatparticular line, the little creatures were often a source of amusementin the camp; and I shall always cherish a feeling of gratitude to thedonor for them. 

At ten miles from Newcastle is Culham, the hospitable residence of thewell-known and universally respected Squire Phillips, of an old Oxfordfamily in England, and a very old settler in the Colony of WesternAustralia. On our arrival at Culham we were, as we had formerly been, most generously received; and the kindness and hospitality we met, induced us to remain for some days. When leaving I took young JohnnyPhillips with me to give him an insight into the mysteries of cameltravelling, so far as Champion Bay. On our road up the country we metwith the greatest hospitality from every settler, whose establishmentthe caravan passed. At every station they vied with each other as towho should show us the greatest kindness. It seems invidious tomention names, and yet it might appear as though I were ungrateful ifI seemed to forget my old friends; for I am a true believer in thedictum, of all black crimes, accurst ingratitude's the worst. LeavingCulham, we first went a few miles to Mr. Beare's station andresidence, whither Squire Phillips accompanied us. Our next friend wasMr. Butler, at the St. Joseph's schoolhouse, where he had formerlypresented me with an address. Next we came to the Messrs. Clunes, where we remained half an hour to refresh, en route for New Norcia, the Spanish Catholic Benedictine Monastery presided over by the goodBishop Salvado, and where we remained for the night; the Bishopwelcoming us as cordially as before. Our next halt was at theMcPhersons', Glentromie, only four or five miles from the Mission. Ourhost here was a fine, hospitable old Scotchman, who has a mostvaluable and excellent property. From Glentromie we went to the Hon. O'Grady Lefroy's station, Walebing, where his son, Mr. Henry Lefroy, welcomed us again as he had done so cordially on our first visit. Atevery place where we halted, country people continually came ridingand driving in to see the camels, and an amusing incident occurredhere. Young Lefroy had a tidy old housekeeper, who was quite thegrande dame amongst the young wives and daughters of the surroundingfarmers. I remained on Sunday, and, as usual, a crowd of people came. The camp was situated 200 yards from the buildings, and covered a goodspace of ground, the camels always being curled round into a circlewhenever we camped; the huge bags and leather-covered boxes andpack-saddles filling up most of the space. On this Sunday afternoon anumber of women, and girls, were escorted over by the housekeeper. Alec and I had come to the camp just before them, and we watched asthey came up very slowly and cautiously to the camp. I was on thepoint of going over to them, and saying that I was sorry the camelswere away feeding, but something Alec Ross said, restrained me, and wewaited--the old housekeeper doing the show. To let the others see howclever she was, she came right up to the loads, the others following, and said, "Ah, the poor things!" One of the new arrivals said, "Oh, the poor things, how still and quiet they are, " the girls stretchingtheir necks, and nearly staring their eyes out. Alec and I werechoking with laughter, and I went up and said, "My dear creature, these are not the camels, these are the loads; the camels are away inthe bush, feeding. " The old lady seemed greatly annoyed, while theothers, in chorus, said, "Oh, oh! what, ain't those the camels there?"etc. By that time the old lady had vanished. 

Up to this point we had returned upon the road we had formerlytravelled to Perth; now we left our old line, and continued up thetelegraph line, and main overland road, from Perth to Champion Bay. Here we shortly entered what in this Colony is called the VictoriaPlains district. I found the whole region covered with thick timber, if not actual scrubs; here and there was a slight opening covered witha thorny vegetation three or four feet high. It struck me as beingsuch a queer name, but I subsequently found that in Western Australiaa plain means level country, no matter how densely covered withscrubs; undulating scrubs are thickets, and so on. Several times I wasmystified by people telling me they knew there were plains to theeast, which I had found to be all scrubs, with timber twenty to thirtyfeet high densely packed on it. The next place we visited, was Mr. James Clinche's establishment at Berkshire Valley, and our receptionthere was most enthusiastic. A triumphal arch was erected over thebridge that spanned the creek upon which the place was located, thearch having scrolls with mottoes waving and flags flying in ourhonour. Here was feasting and flaring with a vengeance. Mr. Clinche'shospitality was unbounded. We were pressed to remain a week, or month, or a year; but we only rested one day, the weather being exceedinglyhot. Mr. Clinche had a magnificent flower and fruit garden, withfruit-trees of many kinds en espalier; these, he said, throveremarkably well. Mr. Clinche persisted in making me take away severalbottles of fluid, whose contents need not be specificallyparticularised. Formerly the sandal-wood-tree of commerce abounded allover the settled districts of Western Australia. Merchants and othersin Perth, Fremantle, York, and other places, were buyers for anyquantity. At his place Mr. Clinche had a huge stack of I know not howmany hundred tons. He informed me he usually paid about eight poundssterling per measurement ton. The markets were London, Hong Kong, andCalcutta. A very profitable trade for many years was carried on inthis article; the supply is now very limited. 

There was a great deal of the poison-plant all over this country, notthe Gyrostemon, but a sheep-poisoning plant of the Gastrolobiumfamily; and I was always in a state of anxiety for fear the camelsshould eat any of it. The shepherds in this Colony, whose flocks aregenerally not larger than 500, are supposed to know every individualpoison-plant on their beat, and to keep their sheep off it; but withus, it was all chance work, for we couldn't tie the camels up everynight, and we could not control them in what they should eat. Our nextfriends were a brother of the McPherson at Glentromie and his wife. The name of this property was Cornamah; there was a telegraph stationat this place. Both here and at Berkshire Valley Mrs. McPherson andMiss Clinche are the operators. Next to this, we reached Mr. Cook'sstation, called Arrino, where Mrs. Cook is telegraph mistress. Mr. Cook we had met at New Norcia, on his way down to Perth. We had lunchat Arrino, and Mrs. Cook gave me a sheep. I had, however, taken it outof one of their flocks the night before, as we camped with some blackshepherds and shepherdesses, who were very pleased to see the camels, and called them emus, a name that nearly all the West Australiannatives gave them. 

After leaving Arrino we met Mr. Brooklyn and Mr. King, two Governmentsurveyors, at whose camp we rested a day. The heat was excessive, thethermometer during that day going up 115 degrees in the shade. Thefollowing day we reached a farm belonging to Mr. Goodwin, where we hada drink of beer all round. That evening we reached an establishmentcalled Irwin House, on the Irwin River, formerly the residence of Mr. Lock Burgess, who was in partnership there with Squire Phillips. Mr. Burgess having gone to England, the property was leased to Mr. Fane, where we again met Mrs. Fane and her daughters, whom we had first metat Culham. This is a fine cattle run and farming property. From thencewe went to Dongarra, a town-site also on the Irwin. On reaching thisriver, we found ourselves in one of the principal agriculturaldistricts of Western Australia, and at Dongarra we were met by anumber of the gentlemen of the district, and an address was presentedto me by Mr. Laurence, the Resident Magistrate. After leavingDongarra, we were entertained at his house by Mr. Bell; and here wemet a French gentleman of a strong Irish descent, with fine white eyesand a thick shock head, of red hair; he gazed intently both at us andthe camels. I don't know which he thought the more uncouth of the twokinds of beasts. At last he found sufficient English to say, "Do demtings goo faar in a deayah, ehah?" When he sat down to dinner with us, he put his mutton chop on his hand, which he rested on his plate. Thelatter seemed to be quite an unknown article of furniture to him, andyet I was told his father was very well to do. 

The next town-site we reached was the Greenough--pronouncedGreenuff--Flats, being in another very excellent agriculturaldistrict; here another address was presented to me, and we wereentertained at an excellent lunch. As usual, great numbers of peoplecame to inspect us, and the camels, the latter laying down with theirloads on previous to being let go. Often, when strangers would cometoo near, some of the more timid camels would jump up instantly, andthe people not being on their guard, would often have torn faces andbleeding noses before they could get out of the way. On this occasiona tall, gaunt man and his wife, I supposed, were gazing at Tommy'sriding camel as she carried the two little dogs in bags, one on eachside. Tommy was standing near, trying to make her jump up, but she wastoo quiet, and preferred lying down. Any how, Tommy would have hisjoke--so, as the man who was gazing most intently at the pups said, "What's them things, young man?" he replied, "Oh, that's hee'spickaninnies"--sex having no more existence in a black boy'svocabulary than in a highlander's. Then the tall man said to the wife, "Oh, lord, look yer, see how they carries their young. " Only the pup'sheads appeared, a string round the neck keeping them in; "but theylooks like dogs too, don't they?" With that he put his huge face down, so as to gaze more intently at them, when the little dog, who had beenteased a good deal and had got snappish, gave a growl and snapped athis nose. The secret was out; with a withering glance at Tommy and thecamels, he silently walked away--the lady following. 

All the riding camels and most of the pet baggage camels werepassionately fond of bread. I always put a piece under the flap of mysaddle, and so soon as Reechy came to the camp of a morning, she wouldcome and lie down by it, and root about till she found it. Lots of thepeople, especially boys and children, mostly brought their lunch, ascoming to see the camels was quite a holiday affair, and whenever theyincautiously began to eat in the camp, half a dozen camels would tryto take the food from them. One cunning old camel called Cocky, a hugebeast, whose hump was over seven feet from the ground, with his headhigh up in the air, and pretending not to notice anything of the kind, would sidle slowly up towards any people who were eating, and swoopinghis long neck down, with his soft tumid lips would take the food outof their mouths or hands--to their utter astonishment and dismay. Another source of amusement with us was, when any man wanted to have aride, we always put him on Peter Nicholls's camel, then he was led fora certain distance from the camp, when the rider was asked whether hewas all right? He was sure to say, "Yes. " "Well, then, take thereins, " we would say; and so soon as the camel found himself free, hewould set to work and buck and gallop back to the camp; in nine casesout of ten the rider fell off, and those who didn't never wished toget on any more. With the young ladies we met on our journeys throughthe settled districts, I took care that no accidents should happen, and always gave them Reechy or Alec's cow Buzoe. At the Greenough, aball was given in the evening. (I should surely be forgetting myselfwere I to omit to mention our kind friend, Mr. Maley, the miller atGreenough, who took us to his house, gave us a lunch, and literallyflooded us with champagne. ) We were now only a short distance fromChampion Bay, the town-site being called Geraldton; it was the 16thFebruary when we reached it. Outside the town we were met by a numberof gentlemen on horseback, and were escorted into it by them. 

On arrival we were invited to a lunch. Champion Bay, or ratherGeraldton, is the thriving centre of what is, for Western Australia, alarge agricultural and pastoral district. It is the most busy andbustling place I have seen on this side of the continent. It issituated upon the western coast of Australia, in latitude 28 degrees40' and longitude 114 degrees 42' 30", lying about north-north-westfrom Perth, and distant 250 miles in a straight line, although toreach it by land more than 300 miles have to be traversed. I delayedin the neighbourhood of Geraldton for the arrival of the English andColonial mails, at the hospitable encampment of Mr. James Palmer, agentleman from Melbourne, who was contractor for the first line ofrailway, from Champion Bay to Northampton, ever undertaken in WesternAustralia. 

While we delayed here, Mr. Tietkens's fine young riding bull gotpoisoned, and though we did everything we possibly could for him, hefirst went cranky, and subsequently died. I was very much grieved; hewas such a splendid hack, and so quiet and kind; I greatly deploredhis loss. The only substance I could find that he had eaten wasGyrostemon, there being plenty of it here. Upon leaving Mr. Palmer'scamp we next visited a station called the Bowes--being on the BowesCreek, and belonging to Mr. Thomas Burgess, whose father entertainedus so well at Tipperary, near York. Mr. Burgess and his wife mostcordially welcomed us. This was a most delightful place, and sohomelike; it was with regret that I left it behind, Mrs. Burgess beingthe last white lady I might ever see. 

Mr. Burgess had another station called Yuin, about 115 miles easterlyfrom here, and where his nephews, the two Messrs. Wittenoom, resided. They also have a station lying north-east by north called Cheangwa. Onthe fifth day from the Bowes we reached Yuin. The country was in avery dry state. All the stock had been removed to Cheangwa, whererains had fallen, and grass existed in abundance. At Yuin Mr. Burgesshad just completed the erection of, I should say, the largestwool-shed in the Colony. The waters on the station consist of shallowwells and springs all over it. It is situated up the Greenough River. Before reaching Cheangwa I met the elder of the two Wittenooms, whom Ihad previously known in Melbourne; his younger brother was expectedback from a trip to the north and east, where he had gone to look fornew pastoral runs. When he returned, he told us he had not only beenvery successful in that way, but had succeeded in capturing a nativedesperado, against whom a warrant was out, and who had robbed someshepherds' huts, and speared, if not killed, a shepherd in theiremploy. Mr. Frank Wittenoom was leading this individual alongside ofhis horse, intending to take him to Geraldton to be dealt with by thepolice magistrate there. But O, tempora mutantur! One fine night, whenapparently chained fast to a verandah post, the fellow managed to slipout of his shackles, quietly walked away, and left his fetters behindhim, to the unbounded mortification of his captor, who lookedunutterable things, and though he did not say much, he probablythought the more. This escape occurred at Yuin, to which place I hadreturned with Mr. E. Wittenoom, to await the arrival of Mr. Burgess. When we were all conversing in the house, and discussing someexcellent sauterne, the opportunity for his successful attempt wasseized by the prisoner. He effected his escape through the goodoffices of a confederate friend, a civilised young black fellow, whopretended he wanted his hair cut, and got a pair of sheep shears fromMr. Wittenoom during the day for that apparent purpose, saying thatthe captive would cut it for him. Of course the shears were notreturned, and at night the captive or his friend used them to priseopen a split link of the chain which secured him, and away he went asfree as a bird in the air. 

I had Mr. Burgess's and Mr. Wittenoom's company to Cheangwa, and onarrival there my party had everything ready for a start. We arrangedfor a final meeting with our kind friends at a spring called Pia, atthe far northern end of Mr. Wittenoom's run. A great number of nativeswere assembled round Cheangwa: this is always the case at all frontierstations, in the Australian squatting bush. Some of the girls andyoung women were exceedingly pretty; the men were not so attractive, but the boys were good-looking youngsters. The young ladies wereexceedingly talkative; they called the camels emus, or, as theypronounced it, immu. Several of these girls declared their intentionof coming with us. There were Annies, and Lizzies, Lauras, and Kittys, and Judys, by the dozen. One interesting young person in undressuniform came up to me and said, "This is Judy, I am Judy; youMelbourne walk? me Melbourne walk too!" I said, "Oh, all right, mydear;" to this she replied, "Then you'll have to gib me dress. " I gaveher a shirt. 

When we left Cheangwa a number of the natives persisted in followingus, and though we outpaced them in travelling, they stopping to hunton the way, they found their way to the camp after us. By some of themen and boys we were led to a water-hole of some length, calledCooerminga, about eleven miles nearly north from Cheangwa. As the daywas very warm, we and the natives all indulged promiscuously in theluxury of swimming, diving, and splashing about in all directions. Itmight be said that:--

 "By yon mossy boulder, see an ebony shoulder, Dazzling the beholder, rises o'er the blue; But a moment's thinking, sends the Naiad sinking, With a modest shrinking, from the gazer's view. "

The day after we crossed the dry channel of what is called the RiverSandford, and at two or three miles beyond it, we were shown anotherwater called Moodilah, six miles from our last night's encampment. Wewere so hampered with the girls that we did not travel very rapidlyover this part of the continent. Moodilah lay a little to the east ofnorth from Cooerminga; Barloweerie Peak bore north 37 degrees westfrom camp, the latitude of which was 27 degrees 11' 8". On Saturday, the 8th of April, we went nearly north to Pia Spring, where thefollowing day we met for the last time, Messrs. Burgess and Wittenoom. We had some bottles of champagne cooling in canvas water-buckets, andwe had an excellent lunch. The girls still remained with us, and if weliked we might have stayed to "sit with these dark Orianas in grovesby the murmuring sea. "

On Sunday, the 9th of April, we all remained in peace, if nothappiness, at Pia Spring; its position is in latitude 27 degrees 7'and longitude 116 degrees 30'. The days were still very hot, and asthe country produced no umbrageous trees, we had to erect awnings withtarpaulins to enable us to rest in comfort, the thermometer in theshade indicating 100 degrees. Pia is a small granite rock-hole orbasin, which contains no great supply of water, but seems to bepermanently supplied by springs from below. From here Mount Murchison, near the eastern bank of the River Murchison, bore north 73 degreeseast, twenty-three or twenty-four miles away, and Barloweerie, behindus, bore south 48 degrees west, eight miles. 

(ILLUSTRATION: FAREWELL TO WESTERN AUSTRALIA. )

The country belonging to Mr. Burgess and the Messrs. WittenoomBrothers appeared to me the best and most extensive pastoral propertyI had seen in Western Australia. Water is obtained in wells andsprings all over the country, at a depth of four or five feet; thereare, besides, many long standing pools of rain-water on the runs. Mr. Burgess told me of a water-hole in a creek, called Natta, nine or tenmiles off, where I intend to go next. On Monday, the 10th of April, webade farewell to our two kind friends, the last white men we shouldsee. We finished the champagne, and parted. 

CHAPTER 5. 2. FROM 10TH APRIL TO 7TH MAY, 1876. 

The natives continue with us. Natta water-hole. Myriads of flies. Alec returns to Cheangwa. Bashful Tommy. Cowra man. Native customs and rites. Red granite mounds. Loads carried by women. Laura and Tommy. "Cowra" remains. Pretty amphitheatre. Mount Hale range. Flooded grassy flat. Clianthus or desert pea. Natives show us water. New acquaintances. Tell-tale fat. Timber of the Murchison. A waterhole. Fine vegetation. Mount Gould and Mount Hale. A new tribe of natives. Melbourne. Pretty girls brought to the camp. A picturesque place. Plague of flies. Angels' faces. Peterman. Ascend Mount Gould. A high peak. Country beautifully green. Natives less friendly. Leave Mount Gould. Saleh's ponds. Mount Labouchere. Sandal-wood-trees. Native well in a thicket. An Australian scene. The Valley of the Gascoyne. Beautiful trees. A fire-brand. Stony pass. Native orange. A second anniversary. Ascent of the peak. Severe country for camels' feet. Grassy plain. The Lyon's river. Native fires. Another anniversary. A new watercourse. A turkey bustard. An extraordinary scene. Remarks upon the country. 

The harem elected to continue with us. Natta was reached in about ninemiles, north-east by north from Pia. On the way we passed someexcellent and occasionally flooded country, and saw some sheets ofrain-water on which were numerous ducks, but our sportsmen were not sofortunate as to bag any, the birds being so exceedingly shy. I got afew afterwards, when we reached Natta. The thermometer to-day, 96degrees. The country was beautifully green, and the camels beginningto show great signs of improvement. The only drawbacks to ourenjoyments were the myriads of flies by day and mosquitoes at night. It now turned out that Alec Ross had forgotten something, that hewanted at Cheangwa, and we waited here until he returned. During hisabsence we actually got enough ducks to give us all a most excellentdinner, and some to spare for the girls, who left all the hunting tothe men and boys, and remained very comfortably in the camp. PeterNicholls was quite in his glory among them. Tommy, being a verygood-looking boy, was an object of great admiration to a good many ofthem; but he was so bashful he wouldn't even talk to them, though theytried very hard to make love to him. Alec having returned, we leftNatta on the 14th, and went about north-east by east, to a smallbrackish water in a little creek channel, which we reached in aboutfifteen miles. Here our native escort was increased by the arrival ofa young black gentleman, most beautifully dressed in fat and redochre, with many extraordinary white marks or figures all over hisback; we were informed that he was a "cowra man. " I had heard thisexpression before, and it seems it is a custom with the natives ofthis part of the country, like those of Fowler's and Streaky Bays onthe south coast, to subject the youths of the tribe to a mutilatingoperation. After this they are eligible for marriage, but for acertain time, until the wounds heal, they are compelled to absentthemselves from the society of women. They go about the countrysolitary and wretched, and continually utter a short, sharp "cowracry" to warn all other men to keep their women away, until the time oftheir probation is over. Married men occasionally go on "cowra" also, but for what reason, I do not know. The time of our new arrival, itappeared, was just up, and he seemed very glad indeed of it, for hewas evidently quite a society young man, and probably belonged to oneof the first families. He talked as though he knew the country inadvance for hundreds of miles, and told us he intended to come withus. 

The country we were now passing through was all covered with lowtimber, if indeed the West Australian term of thicket was not moreapplicable. There was plenty of grass, but as a rule the region waspoor; no views could be had for any distance. I was desirous of makingmy way to, or near to, Mount Hale, on the Murchison River. None of ournatives knew any feature beyond, by its European name. A low line ofhills ran along westerly, and a few isolated patches of granite hillsoccurred occasionally to the east of our line of march. We reached achain of little creeks or watercourses, and on the 15th camped at asmall water-hole in latitude 26 degrees 46', and longitude about 116degrees 57'. From hence we entered thickets, and arrived at the footof some red granite mounds, where our cowra man said there was plentyof water in a rock-hole. It turned out, however, as is usually thecase with these persons, that the information was not in strictaccordance with the truth, for the receptacle he showed us wasexceedingly small, and the supply of water which it contained wasexceedingly smaller. 

Mount Murchison bore south 14 degrees west; the latitude of the campat these rocks was 26 degrees 36' 8". A lot of stony hills lay infront of us to the north. Our Cheangwa natives, like the poor, werealways with us, although I was anxious to get rid of them; they weretoo much of a good thing; like a Portuguese devil, when he's good he'stoo good. Here I thought it advisable to try to induce them to return. A good many of the girls really cried; however, by the promise of somepresents of flour, tea, sugar, shirts, tobacco, red handkerchiefs, looking glasses, etc. , we managed to dry their tears. It seemed thatour little friends had now nearly reached the boundary of theirterritories, and some of the men wanted to go back, perhaps for fearof meeting some members of hostile tribes beyond; and though the mendo occasionally go beyond their own districts, they never let thewomen go if they can help it; but the women being under ourprotection, didn't care where they went. Many of them told me theywould have gone, perhaps not in such poetic phrase as is found inLallah Rookh, east, west--alas! I care not whither, so thou art safeand I with thee. It was, however, now agreed that they should return. The weight of the loads some of these slim-figured girls and youngwives carried, mostly on their heads, was astonishing, especially whena good-sized child was perched astride on their shoulders as well. Themen, of course, carried nothing but a few spears and sticks; theywould generally stay behind to hunt or dig out game, and whenobtained, leave it for the lubras or women to bring on, some of thewomen following their footsteps for that purpose. 

The prettiest of these girls, or at least the one I thought theprettiest, was named Laura; she was a married young lady with onechild. They were to depart on the morrow. At about eleven or twelveo'clock that night, Laura came to where my bed was fixed, and asked meto take her to see Tommy, this being her last opportunity. "You littleviper, " I was going to say, but I jumped up and led her quietly acrossthe camp to where Tommy was fast asleep. I woke him up and said, "Here, Tommy, here's Laura come to say 'good-bye' to you, and shewants to give you a kiss. " To this the uncultivated young cub replied, rubbing his eyes, "I don't want to kiss him, let him kiss himself!"What was gender, to a fiend like this? and how was poor Laura to beconsoled?

Our cowra and a friend of his, evidently did not intend to leave usjust yet; indeed, Mr. C. Gave me to understand, that whithersoever Iwent, he would go; where I lodged, he would lodge; that my peopleshould be his people; I suppose my God would be good enough for him;and that he would walk with me to Melbourne. Melbourne was the onlyword they seemed to have, to indicate a locality remote. Our coursefrom these rocks was nearly north, and we got into three very prettycircular spaces or amphitheatres; round these several many-colouredand plant-festooned granite hills were placed. Round the foot of theright-hand hills, between the first and second amphitheatre, goingnortherly, Mr. C. Showed us three or four rock water-holes, some ofwhich, though not very large in circumference, were pretty deep, andheld more than sufficient for double my number of camels. Here weoutspanned for an hour and had some dinner, much to the satisfactionof our now, only two attendants; we had come about six miles. From ahill just above where we dined, I sighted a range to the north, andtook it to be part of the Mount Hale Range; Mount Hale itself lyingmore easterly, was hidden by some other hills just in front. Afterdinner we proceeded through, or across, the third amphitheatre, therange in front appearing thirty to forty miles away. That night weencamped in a thicket, having travelled only sixteen or seventeenmiles. In a few miles, on the following day, we came on to a line ofwhite or flood gum-trees, and thought there was a river or creek aheadof us; but it proved only a grassy flat, with the gum-trees growingpromiscuously upon it. A profusion of the beautiful Sturt, ordesert-pea, or Clianthus Dampierii, grew upon this flat. A few low, red granite hills to the north seemed to form the bank or edge of akind of valley, and before reaching them, we struck a saltwatercourse, in which our two satellites discovered, or probably knewof before, a fresh waterhole in rock and sand in the channel of thecreek, with plenty of water in, where we encamped. The day wasexceedingly hot, and though near the end of the hot months, ourcontinued northerly progress made us painfully aware that we werestill in the region of "sere woodlands and sad wildernesses, where, with fire, and fierce drought, on her tresses, insatiable summeroppresses. " Our latitude here was 26 degrees 14' 50". 

Immediately upon arrival, our cowra man and his friend seemed aware ofthe presence of other natives in the neighbourhood, and began to makesignal smokes to induce their countrymen to approach. This they verysoon did, heralding their advent with loud calls and cries, which ourtwo answered. Although I could not actually translate what the jabberwas all about, I am sure it was a continual question as to ourrespectability, and whether we were fit and presentable enough to beintroduced into their ladies' society. The preliminaries and doubts, however, seemed at last to be overcome, and the natives then madetheir appearance. With them came also several of their young women, who were remarkably good-looking, and as plump as partridges; but theywere a bit skeery, and evidently almost as wild as wild dogs. Our twosemi-civilised barbarians induced them to come nearer, however, andapparently spoke very favourably about us, so that they soon becamesociable and talkative. They were not very much dressed, theirgarments being composed of a very supple, dark kind of skin and hair, which was so thickly smeared over with fat and red ochre, that if anyone attempted to hold them, it left a tell-tale mark of red fat allover their unthinking admirers. The following day they wanted toaccompany us, but I would not permit this, and they departed; atleast, we departed, and with us came two men, who would take nodenial, or notice of my injunction, but kept creeping up after usevery now and then. Our cowra led us by evening to a small--verysmall, indeed--rock-hole, in which there was scarcely sufficient waterfor our four followers. It took me considerably out of my road toreach it, and I was greatly disgusted when I did so. It lay nearlynorth-west by west from the last camp, and was in latitude 26 degrees7' 9". Mount Hale now bore a little to the north of east from us, andthe timber of the Murchison could be seen for the first time from somehills near the camp. 

I now steered nearly north-east, for about fifteen miles, until westruck the river. The country here consisted of extensive grassyflats, having several lines of gum-timber traversing it, andoccasionally forming into small water-channels; the entire width ofthe river-bed here was between five and six miles. We went about threemiles into it, and had to encamp without water, none of the channelswe had passed having any in. I sent Alec Ross still furthernorthwards, and he found a small rain water-hole two miles farthernorth-north-easterly; we went there on the following morning. Thegrass and vegetation here, were very rich, high, and green. One of thelittle dogs, Queenie, in running after some small game, was lost, andat night had not returned to the camp, nor was she there by themorning; but when Saleh and Tommy went for the camels, they found herwith them. I did not intend to ascend Mount Hale, but pushed for MountGould, which bore north 55 degrees east. After crossing the Murchisonchannel and flats--fine, grassy, and green--we entered thickets ofmulga, which continued for fifteen miles, until we arrived on thebanks of a watercourse coming from the north, towards the Murchisonnear Mount Hale, and traversing the country on the west side of MountGould. Mount Gould and Mount Hale are about twenty-two miles apart, lying nearly north-north-east and south-south-west from one another, and having the Murchison River running nearly east and west between, but almost under the northern foot of Mount Hale. These two mountswere discovered by H. C. Gregory in 1858. 

We reached the Mount Gould creek on the 22nd of April, and almost sosoon as we appeared upon its banks, we flushed up a whole host ofnatives who were living and hunting there. There were men, women, andchildren in scores. There was little or no water in the many channelsof the new creek; and as there appeared yet another channel near MountGould, we went towards it; the natives surrounding us, yelling andgesticulating in the most excited state, but they were, so to say, civil, and showed us some recent rain water in the channel at MountGould's foot, at which I fixed the camp. As these were the samenatives or members of the same tribes, that had murdered one if notboth the young Clarksons, I determined to be very guarded in mydealings with them. The men endeavoured to force their way into thecamp several times. I somewhat more forcibly repelled them with astick, which made them very angry. As a rule, very few people likebeing beaten with a stick, and these were no exception. They did notappear in the least degree afraid, or astonished, at the sight of thecamels. When they were hobbled out several of the men not only went tolook at them, but began to pull them about also, and laughed heartilyand in chorus when a camel lay down for them. One or two could say afew words of English, and said, "Which way walk? You Melbourne walk?"the magic name of Melbourne being even in these people's mouths. Thisis to be accounted for by the fact that Mr. E. Wittenoom had returnedfrom thence not long before, and having taken a Cheangwa black boywith him, the latter had spread the news of the wonders he had seen inthe great metropolis, to the uttermost ends of the earth. 

There was not very much water where we camped, but still ample for mytime. The grass and herbage here were splendid and green. When the menfound I would not allow them to skulk about the camp, and apparentlydesired no intercourse with them, some of them brought up first one, then another, and another, and another, very pretty young girls; themen leading them by the hand and leaving them alone in the camp, andas it seemed to them that they were required to do or say something, they began to giggle. The men then brought up some very nice-lookinglittle boys. But I informed them they might as well go; girls and boyswent away together, and we saw nothing more of them that evening. Thiswas a very pretty and picturesque place. Mount Gould rose with roughand timbered sides to a pointed ridge about two miles from the camp. The banks of the creek were shaded with pretty trees, and numerousacacia and other leguminous bushes dotted the grassy flooded lands oneither side of the creek. The beauty of the place could scarcely beenjoyed, as the weather was so hot and the flies such awful plagues, that life was almost a misery, and it was impossible to obtain amoment's enjoyment of the scene. The thermometer had stood at 103degrees in the shade in the afternoon, and at night the mosquitoeswere as numerous and almost more annoying than the flies in the day. The following day being Sunday, we rested, and at a very early hourcrowds of black men, women, boys, and children, came swarming up tothe camp. But the men were not allowed to enter. There was noresisting the encroachments of the girls; they seemed out of theirwits with delight at everything they saw; they danced and pirouettedabout among the camels' loads with the greatest glee. Everything withthem was, "What name?" They wanted to know the name of everything andeverybody, and they were no wiser when they heard it. Some of thesegirls and boys had faces, in olive hue, like the ideal representationof angels; how such beauty could exist amongst so poor a grade of thehuman race it is difficult to understand, but there it was. Some ofthe men were good-looking, but although they had probably beenbeautiful as children, their beauty had mostly departed. There wereseveral old women at the camp. They were not beautiful, but they werevery quiet and retiring, and seemed to feel gratification at thepleasures the young ones enjoyed. Sometimes they would point out somepretty girl or boy and say it was hers, or hers; they were really verylike human beings, though of course no one can possibly be a realhuman being who does not speak English. A custom among the nativeshere is to cicatrise in parallel horizontal lines the abdomens of thefemale portion of the community. The scars of the old being longhealed left only faint raised lines, intended to hide any naturalcorrugations; this in a great measure it did, but the younger, especially those lately operated on, had a very unsightly appearance. Surely these people cannot deem these the lines of beauty. These youngladies were much pleased at beholding their pretty faces in alooking-glass for the first time. They made continual use of the word"Peterman. " This was a word I had first heard from the natives of theRawlinson Range, upon my last horse expedition of 1874. It seems tosignify, where are you going? or where have you come from? orsomething to that effect; and from the fact of their using it, itappears that they must speak the same language as the natives of theRawlinson, which is over 600 miles away to the eastward, and isseparated from their territory by a vast and dreary desert. The daywas again distressingly hot; the thermometer in the afternoon risingto 104 degrees in the shade, which so late in April is somethingextraordinary. The girls seemed greatly to enjoy sitting in the fineshade made by our awnings. The common house-fly swarmed about us inthousands of decillions, and though we were attended by houris, I atleast did not consider myself in Paradise. The latitude of this campwas 25 degrees 46' 37", and longitude 117 degrees 25'. Next day AlecRoss and I climbed to the top of Mount Gould; this was rather roughwork, the height being between 1100 and 1200 feet above thesurrounding country, and 2600 feet above the sea level. The countryimmediately to the eastward was flat and grassy, but with theexception of a few miles from the foot of the mount, which was openand clear, the whole region, though flat, is thickly covered withmulga or thickets; this, in Western Australian parlance, is called aplain. Mount Hale appeared much higher than this hill. 

The only other conspicuous object in view was a high peak to thenorth-north-east. The timber of the River Murchison could be tracedfor some miles as coming from the eastwards, and sweeping under thenorthern foot of Mount Hale. The creek the camp is situated on camefrom the north-east. The creek we first saw the natives on, comes fromthe north, and the two join before reaching the Murchison. Mount Gouldis almost entirely composed of huge blocks of almost pure iron, whichrendered the compass useless. The creek the camp is on appears to comefrom some low hills to the north east-wards, and on leaving this placeI shall follow it up. Some recent rains must have fallen in thisneighbourhood, for the whole country is beautifully green. The fliesat the camp to-day were, if possible, even more numerous than before. They infest the whole air; they seem to be circumambient; we can'thelp eating, drinking, and breathing flies; they go down our throatsin spite of our teeth, and we wear them all over our bodies; theycreep up one's clothes and die, and others go after them to see whatthey died of. The instant I inhale a fly it acts as an emetic. And ifNature abhors a vacuum, she, or at least my nature, abhors thesewretches more, for the moment I swallow one a vacuum is instantlyproduced. Their bodies are full of poisonous matter, and they have amost disgusting flavour, though they taste sweet. They also causegreat pains and discomfort to our eyes, which are always full of them. Probably, if the flies were not here, we might think we were overrunwith ants; but the flies preponderate; the ants merely come asundertakers and scavengers; they eat up or take away all we smash, andbeing attracted by the smell of the dead victims, they crawl overeverything after their prey. The natives appear far less friendlyto-day, and no young houris have visited us. Many of the men haveclimbed into trees in the immediate neighbourhood of the camp, notbeing allowed in, and are continually peering down at us and ourdoings, and reporting all our movements to their associates. At ourmeal-times they seem especially watchful, and anxious to discover whatit is we eat, and where it comes from. Some come occasionally creepingnearer to our shady home for a more extensive view. Wistfully gazingthey come--

 "And they linger a minute, Like those lost souls who wait, Viewing, through heaven's gate, Angels within it. "

By the morning of the following day I was very glad to find that thenatives had all departed. Saleh and Tommy were away after the camels, and had been absent so many hours that I was afraid these people mighthave unhobbled the camels and driven them off, or else attacked thetwo who were after them. We waited, therefore, for their return ingreat anxiety, hour after hour. As they only took one gun besidestheir revolvers, I was afraid they might not be able to sustain anattack, if the natives set upon them. After the middle of the day theyturned up, camels and all, which put an end to our fears. 

We departed from Mount Gould late in the day, and travelled up thecreek our camp was on, and saw several small ponds of clearrain-water, but at the spot where we camped, after travelling fifteenmiles, there was none. Mount Gould bore south 56 degrees west fromcamp. The travelling for about twenty miles up the creek was prettygood. At twenty-seven miles we came to the junction with anothercreek, where a fine permanent rocky pool of fresh water, with somegood-sized fish in it, exists. I named this fine watering-placeSaleh's Fish-ponds, after my Afghan camel-driver, who was really afirst-rate fellow, without a lazy bone in his body. The greatestrequirement of a camel caravan, is some one to keep the saddles inrepair, and so avert sore backs. Saleh used to do this admirably, andmany times in the deserts and elsewhere I have known him to pass halfthe night at this sort of work. The management of the camels, afterone learns the art, is simple enough; they are much easier to workthan a mob of pack-horses; but keeping the saddles right is a task ofthe hardest nature. In consequence of Saleh's looking after ours sowell, we never had any trouble with sore-backed camels, thus escapinga misfortune which in itself might wreck a whole caravan. We kept onfarther up our creek, and at a place we selected for a camp we gotsome water by digging in the channel at a depth of only a few inchesin the sandy bed. The country now on both sides of the creek was bothstony and scrubby. Following it up, at ten miles farther, we reachedits head amongst the mass of hills which, by contributing lesserchannels, combine to form its source. Here we re-sighted thehigh-peaked mount first seen from Mount Gould, and I decided to visitit. It is most probably the mountain seen from a distance by H. C. Gregory, and named by him Mount Labouchere. We were now among a massof dreadfully rough and broken hills, which proved very severe to thecamels' feet, as they had continually to descend into and rise againout of, sharp gullies, the stones being nearly up-edged. The going upand down these short, sharp, and sometimes very deep, stonyundulations, is a performance that these excellent animals are notspecially adapted for. Heavily-loaded camels have only a rope crupperunder their tails to keep the saddles and loads on, and in descendingthese places, when the animals feel the crupper cutting them, some ofthem would skip and buck, and get some of their loading off, and wehad a great deal of trouble in consequence. 

Both yesterday and to-day, the 27th of April, we saw several stuntedspecimens of the sandal-wood-tree of commerce, santalum. In theafternoon, getting over the highest part of the hills, the countryfell slightly towards the north, and we reached a small creek withgum-trees on it, running to the north-north-west; it was quite dry; norain appeared to have visited it or the country surrounding it forcenturies. As the sharp stones had not agreed with the camels, weencamped upon it, although we could get no water. The latitude of ourcamp on this dry creek was 25 degrees 19'. The flies and heat werestill terrible. Leaving the creek and steering still for the high peakof Mount Labouchere, we came, at thirteen miles, upon a native well inthe midst of a grassy flat among thickets. The peak bore 6 degrees 30'east of north from it. This well appeared to have been dug out ofcalcareous soil. We did not use it, but continued our journey over andthrough, both stony and occasionally sandy thickets, to some low hillswhich rose before us to the north. On ascending these, a delightfuland truly Australian scene was presented to our view, for before uslay the valley of the Gascoyne River. This valley is three or fourmiles wide, and beautifully green. It is bounded on the north, north-easterly, and north-westerly, by abrupt-faced ranges of hills, while down through the centre of the grassy plain stretch serpentinelines of vigorous eucalyptus-trees, pointing out the channels of thenumerous watercourses into which the river splits. The umbrageous andevergreen foliage of the tops, the upright, creamy white stems ofthese elegant gum-trees, contrasted remarkably and agreeably with thedull and sombre hues of the treeless hills that formed the background, and the enamelled and emerald earth that formed the groundwork of thescene. We lost no time in descending from the hills to the beautifulflat below, and discovered a fine long reach of water in the largestchannel, where there were numbers of wild ducks. The water wasslightly brackish in taste. It appeared to continue for a considerabledistance upon either hand, both east and west. The herbage wasexceedingly fine and green, and it was a most excellent place for anencampment. The trees formed the greatest charm of the scene; theywere so beautifully white and straight. It could not be said of thisplace that:

 "The gnarled, knotted trunks Eucalyptian, Seemed carved like weird columns Egyptian; With curious device, quaint inscription, And hieroglyph strange. "

The high Mount Labouchere bore 8 degrees 20' east of north, thelatitude was 25 degrees 3', longitude 117 degrees 59', and thevariation 4 degrees 28' west. The wind blew fiercely from the east, and seemed to betoken a change in the weather. From a hill to thenorth of us we could see that small watercourses descended from lowhills to the north and joined the river at various points, one ofwhich, from a north-easterly direction, I shall follow. The country inthat direction seemed very rough and stony. We shot a number of ducksand pigeons here. No natives came near us, although Saleh picked up aburning fire-stick close to the camp, dropped by some wanderingsavage, who had probably taken a very keen scrutiny and mentalphotograph of us all, so as to enable him to give hisfellow-barbarians a full, true, and particular account of the wild andhideous beings who had invaded their territory. The water-hole wasnearly three miles long; no other water was to be found in any of theother channels in the neighbourhood. We have seen no other native gamehere than ducks and pigeons. We noticed large areas of ground on theriver flats, which had not only been dug, but re-dug, by the natives, and it seems probable that a great portion of their food consists ofroots and vegetables. I remained here two days, and then struck overto the creek before mentioned as coming from the north-east. At eightmiles it ran through a rough stony pass between the hills. A fewspecimens of the native orange-tree, capparis, were seen. We encampedin a very rough glen without water. The country is now a mass ofjumbled stones. Still pushing for the peak, we moved slowly overhills, down valleys, and through many rocky passes; generallyspeaking, the caravan could proceed only along the beds of thetrumpery watercourses. By the middle of the 1st of May, the secondanniversary of the day I crawled into Fort McKellar, after the loss ofGibson, we crawled up to the foot of Mount Labouchere; it seemed veryhigh, and was evidently very rough and steep. Alec Ross and Salehascended the mount in the afternoon, and all the satisfaction theygot, was their trouble, for it was so much higher than any of itssurroundings that everything beyond it seemed flattened, and nothingin particular could be seen. It is composed of a pink andwhitish-coloured granite, with quantities of calcareous stone near itsbase, and it appears to have been formed by the action of submarinevolcanic force. No particular hills and no watercourses could be seenin any northerly direction. The Gascoyne River could be traced by itsvalley trend for twenty-five or thirty miles eastwards, and it is mostprobable that it does not exist at all at fifty miles from where wecrossed it. The elevation of this mountain was found to be 3400 feetabove sea level, and 1800 feet above the surrounding country. Thelatitude of this feature is 24 degrees 44', and its longitude 118degrees 2', it lying nearly north of Mount Churchman, and distant 330miles from it. There were no signs of water anywhere, nor could anyplaces to hold it be seen. It was very difficult to get a camelcaravan over such a country. The night we encamped here was thecoolest of the season; the thermometer on the morning of the 2ndindicated 48 degrees. On the stony hills we occasionally saw stuntedspecimens of the scented commercial sandal-wood and nativeorange-trees. Leaving the foot of this mountain with pleasure, we wentaway as north-easterly as we could, towards a line of hills with a gapor pass in that direction. We found a small watercourse trendingeasterly, and in it I discovered a pool of clear rain-water, all amongstones. We encamped, although it was a terribly rough place. Arrivingat, and departing from, Mount Labouchere has made some of the camelsnot only very tender-footed, but in consequence of the stony layerslying so up-edged, has cut some of them so badly that the caravanmight be tracked by a streak of blood on the stones over which we havepassed. This was not so much from the mere stones, but from the camelsgetting their feet wedged into clefts and dragging them forcibly out. Some were so fortunate as to escape without a scratch. We made verylittle distance to-day, as our camp is not more than five miles fromthe summit of the mountain, which bore south 61 degrees west from us. We rested at this little pond for a day, leaving it again upon the4th. 

Following the watercourse we were encamped upon, it took us through apass, among the rough hills lying north-easterly. So soon as wecleared the pass, the creek turned northerly, and ran away over a finepiece of grassy plain, which was a kind of valley, between two linesof hills running east and west, the valley being of some width. Thetimber of the creek fell off here, and the watercourse seemed toexhaust itself upon the valley in a westerly direction, but split intotwo or three channels before ending, if, indeed, it does end here, which I doubt, as I believe this valley and creek, form the head ofthe Lyons River, as no doubt the channel forms again and continues itscourse to the west. To-day on our journey I noticed some nativepoplar-trees. We left all the water-channels on our left hand, andproceeded north across the plain, towards a low part or fall, betweentwo ranges that run along the northern horizon. The valley consists ofgrassy flats, though somewhat thickly timbered with mulga. Somenatives' fires were observed in the hills on our line of march. Thatnight we encamped without water, in a low part of the hills, aftertravelling nineteen or twenty miles. The night became very cloudy, andso was the next morning. We had more rough, stony, and scrubby hillsto traverse. At six miles we got over these and down into anothervalley, but even in this, the country was all scrub and stones. Weencamped at a dry gum-creek, where there was good herbage and bushesfor the camels; but the whole region being so rough, it does notplease either us or the camels at all. They can't get soft places tostand on while they are feeding, nor are their sleeping places likefeather-beds either. At night a very slight sprinkling of rain fellfor a minute or two. 

May the 6th was the anniversary of the departure of the caravan fromBeltana in South Australia, whither we were now again endeavouring toforce our way by a new line. More hills, rough and wretched, weretravelled over to-day. In five miles we got to a new watercourse, amongst the hills, which seemed inclined to go north-easterly, so wefollowed it. It meandered about among the hills and through a pass, but no water was seen, though we were anxiously looking for it atevery turn. Alec shot a wild turkey or bustard to-day. After goingthirteen or fourteen miles, and finding no water, I camped, and as wehad none for ourselves, I sent Alec Ross, Saleh, and Tommy into thehills with the camels to a place about ten miles back, where I hadseen a small native well. They returned the following day, havingfound a good-sized water-hole, and brought a supply to the camp. Thelast two nights were cloudy, and I could get no observations forlatitude. While the camels were away I ascended a hill close by thecamp; the scene was indeed most extraordinary, bald and abrupt hills, mounts, and ranges being thrown up in all directions; they resemblethe billows of a tempestuous ocean suddenly solidified into stone, oras though a hundred thousand million Pelions had been upon as manymillion Ossas hurled, and as though the falling masses, withsuperincumbent weight, falling, flattened out the summits of themountains low but great. 

Our creek, as well as I could determine, seemed to be joined by othersin its course north-easterly. I was surprised to find a creek runningin that direction, expecting rather to find the fall of the wholeregion to the opposite point, as we are now in the midst of thehill-country that forms the watershed, that sends so many rivers intothe sea on the west coast. The hills forming these watersheds arealmost uniformly composed of granite, and generally lie in almostparallel lines, nearly east and west. They are mostly flat-topped, andat various points present straight, rounded, precipitous, andcorrugated fronts, to the astonished eyes that first behold them. Afew small water-channels rise among them, and these, joining others ofa similar kind, gather strength and volume sufficient to form thechannels of larger watercourses, which eventually fall into someother, dignified by the name of a river, and eventually dischargethemselves into the sea. Between the almost parallel lines of hillsare hollows or narrow valleys, which are usually as rough and stony asthe tops of the hills themselves; and being mostly filled with scrubsand thickets, it is as dreadful a region for the traveller to gazeupon as can well be imagined; it is impossible to describe it. Thereis little or no permanent water in the whole region; a showeroccasionally falls here and there, and makes a small flood in one orother of the numerous channels; but this seems to be all that thenatives of this part of the country have to depend upon. If there wereany large waters, we must come upon them by signs, or instinct, if notby chance. The element of chance is not so great here as in hidden andshrouded scrubs, for here we can ascend the highest ground, and anyleading feature must instantly be discovered. The leading featureshere are not the high, but the low grounds, not the hills, but thevalleys, as in the lowest ground the largest watercourses must befound. Hence we follow our present creek, as it must run into a largerone. I know the Ashburton is before us, and not far off now; and as itis the largest river? in Western Australia, it must occupy the largestand lowest valley. The number of inhabitants of this region seems verylimited; we have met none, an occasional smoke in the distance beingthe only indication of their existence. In the hot months of the yearthis region must be vile in the extreme, and I consider myself mostfortunate in having the cool season before me to traverse it in. It isstony, sterile, and hideous, and totally unsuited for the occupationor habitation of the white man. 

CHAPTER 5. 3. FROM 7TH MAY TO 10TH JUNE, 1876. 

Depart for higher ground. Rainfalls. Ophthalmia. Romantic glen. Glen Ross. Camels on the down grade. Larger creek. The Ashburton. No natives. Excellent bushes for camels. A strange spot. Junction of several creeks. Large snake. Grand Junction Depot. A northerly journey. Milk thistle. Confined glen. Pool of water. Blind with ophthalmia. Leading the blind. Dome-like masses. Mount Robinson and The Governor. Ophthalmia range. Rocky spring. Native fig-trees. A glen full of water. Camels nearly drowned. Scarcity of living things. And of water. Continued plague of flies. A pretty view. Tributaries join. Nicholls's Fish ponds. Characteristics of watering places. Red hill. Another spring. Unvarying scene. Frost, thermometer 28 degrees. A bluff hill. Gibson's Desert again. Remarks upon the Ashburton. The desert's edge. Barren and wretched region. Low ridges and spinifex. Deep native well. Thermometer 18 degrees. Salt bush and Acacia flats. A rocky cleft. Sandhills in sight. Enter the desert. The solitary caravan. Severe ridges of sand. Camels poisoned in the night. In doubt, and resolved. Water by digging. More camels attacked. A horrible and poisonous region. Variable weather. Thick ice. A deadly Upas-tree. 

Though the camels returned early from where the water was found, someof them required a rest on the soft ground on the banks of the creek, and as there were good bushes here also, we remained for the rest ofthe day. The night set in very close and oppressive, and a slight rainfell. On the morning of May the 8th there was some appearance of morerain, and as we were camped upon ground liable to be flooded, Idecided to be off at once to some higher ground, which we reached inabout two miles down the creek. While we were packing up, and duringthe time we were travelling, the rain came down sufficiently heavilyto wet us all thoroughly. We got to the side of a stony hill, put upour tents and tarpaulins, and then enjoyed the rain exceedingly, except that our senses of enjoyment were somewhat blunted, for all ofus had been attacked with ophthalmia for several days previously. Livingstone remarks in one of his works that, in Africa, attacks ofophthalmia generally precede rain. The rain fell occasionallythroughout the remainder of the day and during the night. "All nightlong, in fitful pauses, falling far, but faint and fine. " By the nextmorning it had flooded the small lateral channels; this, however, caused a very slight trickling down the channel of the larger creek. The following day was windy and cloudy, but no more rain fell; aboutan inch and a half had fallen altogether. We remained in camp to-day, and dried all our things. The position of the camp was in latitude 24degrees 12' 8" and longitude about 118 degrees 20'. 

(ILLUSTRATION: GLEN ROSS. )

On the 10th of May we left, still following our creek abouteast-north-east. We have had, a line of hills to the north of us forsome distance, but now at five miles this fell off, and some otherhills on the south, running up close to the creek, turned its courseup to the north, and in two or three miles it ran into a mostpicturesque and romantic glen, which had now a rushing torrent roaringthrough its centre. Here no doubt some permanent water exists, as wenot only saw great quantities of mussel shells at deserted nativecamps, but Alec Ross saw a large rocky water reservoir in the glen, inwhich were quantities of good-sized fish. The camels could not passthrough this glen, it was too rocky; they therefore had to travelalong the top of a precipice of red and white granite. That overlookedit on the eastern side. The noise of waters rushing over the rockybottom of this stone-bound glen, was music sweet, and sound melodious, to ears like ours, so unaccustomed to the beautiful cadences ofNature's pure and soothing voice. The atmosphere was pure and clear, the breeze fresh, the temperature such as man may enjoy; and this wasone of those few and seldom-met-with, places where the wanderer's eyemay rest for a moment with pleasure as it scans the scene around. Theverdure of the glen, the bright foliage of the trees that lined thebanks of the stream below, the sparkling water as it danced andglittered in the sunlight, the slow and majestic motion of the passingcaravan, as it wound so snake-like along the top of the precipitouswall, combined with the red and white colouring of the rifted graniteof which it is composed, formed a picture framed in the retina of hiseye, which is ever pleasing to the traveller to remember, and apleasure also to describe. I have named this pretty place Glen Ross, after my young friend Alec. We got the caravan easily enough up on topof the wall, the difficulty was to get it down again. A very steepplace had to be negotiated, and we were more than an hour indescending to ground not a hundred yards below us. Camels are notdesigned for going down places of this kind, with loads on; but theyhave so many other splendid qualities, that I cannot censure them fornot possessing the faculty of climbing like cats or monkeys. 

From a hill near the mouth of this glen it could be seen that thiscreek ran into a much larger one, in the course of three or fourmiles. There also appeared a kind of valley in which the new creeklay; it and its valley seemed to run east and west. On arrival at thisnew feature the following morning, I found the channel very broad andsandy-bedded, with fine vigorous eucalyptus timber growing upon eitherbank. I was at once certain that this new feature was the upperportion of the Ashburton River, which enters the sea upon the westcoast. It has always been supposed to be the largest river in WesternAustralia. No traveller had ever reached so high a point up itpreviously; of course its flow was to the west. Only a small stream ofwater was running down its bed, caused no doubt by the late rains. Thevalley down which it runs is so confined and stony, that no sufficientareas of country suitable for occupation can be had on it, in thisneighbourhood. Its course was nearly from the east, and we followedalong its banks. In the immediate neighbourhood there was very finegrass and herbage. I struck it in latitude 24 degrees 5', andlongitude 118 degrees 30'. A branch creek joins it from the north-eastat nine miles. I encamped upon it for the first time on the 11th ofMay. In our progress up this river--I use the term in its Australiansense, for at this portion the Ashburton might be termed a dry riveronly--we found a slight stream of water trickling along its bed. Thebanks are low, the bed is broad. We had to travel mainly in the sandybed, as this proved the best travelling ground in general, the valleybeing both narrow and stony. On the second day it appeared that theonly water that ran down the bed came from another creek, which joinedfrom the south; above that spot the Ashburton channel was quite dry, although we occasionally found small ponds of water in the sand hereand there. At night, on the 12th, there was none where we camped; theriver still ran nearly east and west. That hideous and objectionablevegetation, the Triodia irritans, or spinifex, was prevalent even inplaces where the waters sometimes flowed. We have had plenty of thisenemy ever since we left Mount Gould. No natives were seen, or appearto exist here. A few strips of good country occur occasionally on thebanks of the river, but not in areas of sufficient extent to be of anyuse for occupation. Neither man, beast, bird, nor fish was to be seen, only an odd and apparently starving crow was occasionally heard. As wetravelled farther up the river, there was even less appearance of rainhaving fallen; but the grass and herbage is green and fresh, and itmay be it was visited by rains previously. There are excellent acaciaand other leguminous bushes for the camels. 

On the 13th of May we came to a very strange spot, where a number ofwhitish, flat-topped hills hemmed in the river, and where theconjunction of three or four other creeks occurred with the Ashburton, which now appeared to come from the south, its tributaries coming fromthe east and north-east. On the most northerly channel, Peter Nichollsshot a very large snake; it was nearly nine feet long, was a footround the girth, and weighed nearly fifty pounds. It was a perfectmonster for Australia. Had we been without food, what a godsend itwould have been to us! It would have made two or three good meals forthe whole party. I called this place the Grand Junction Depot, as thecamp was not moved from there for thirteen days. The position of thecamp at this Grand Junction was in latitude 24 degrees 6' 8", andlongitude 119 degrees. At this time I had a second attack ofophthalmia; but on the 15th, thinking I was recovering, I went away incompany with Alec Ross to penetrate as far north as the 23rd parallelof latitude, as I was in hopes of finding some new hills or ranges inthat locality that might extend for a distance eastwards. We took fourcamels with us, three being the same animals which Alec and I tookwhen we found the Boundary Dam. 

Leaving the depot, we went up the most easterly of the creeks thatcame in at the Grand Junction. In its channel I saw some of the milkor sow-thistle plant growing--the Sonchus oleraceus. I have met thisplant in only four places during my explorations. The trend of thecreek was nearly from the east-north-east. At six miles the gum-timberdisappeared from the creek, and the channel being confined by hills, we were in a kind of glen, with plenty of running water to splashthrough. A great quantity of tea-tree--Melaleuca--grew in the creekbed. There we saw another large snake, but not of such dimensions asNicholls's victim. At ten miles up from the depot the glen ceased, andthe creek ran through a country more open on the north bank. We campedat about twenty miles. During the day we saw some native poplars, quandong, or native peach, capparis, or native orange, and a fewscented sandal-wood-trees; nearly all of these different kinds oftrees were very stunted in their growth. At night my eyes were so muchinflamed and so painful with ophthalmia, that I could scarcely see. The next day we steered north-north-east, the ground being very stonyand bad for travelling. We passed some low hills at seven or eightmiles, and at twenty-one we encamped in a dry, stony creek channel. The following day the country was almost identical in its nature, onlythat we found a small pool of water at night in a creek, our coursebeing still the same. My eyes had been so bad all day, I was in agony;I had no lotion to apply to them. At length I couldn't see at all, andAlec Ross had to lead the camels, with mine tied behind them. I notonly couldn't see, I couldn't open my eyes, and had no idea where Iwas going. That day Alec sighted a range of somewhat high hills to ourleft; he next saw another range having rounded, dome-like masses aboutit, and this lay across our path. Alec ascended one of the hills, andinformed me that he saw an extensive mass of hills and ranges in everydirection but the east. To the north they extended a great distance, but they rose into the highest points at two remarkable peaks to thenorth-west, and these, although I cannot be certain exactly where theyare situated, I have named respectively Mount Robinson and TheGovernor, in the hope that these designations will remain as lastingmemorials of the intelligent and generous interest displayed byGovernor Robinson in the exploration of the province under his sway. The country to the east is all level; no ranges whatever appear inthat direction. From what Alec saw and described to me, it was evidentthat we were upon the edge of the desert, as if the ranges ceased tothe east, it was not likely that any watercourses could exist withoutthem. No watercourses could be seen in any direction, except that fromwhich we had come. It was a great disappointment to me to get suchinformation, as I had hoped to discover some creeks or rivers thatmight carry me some distance farther eastward; but now it was evidentthey did not exist. I called this range, whose almost western end Alecascended, Ophthalmia Range, in consequence of my suffering so muchfrom that frightful malady. I could not take any observations, and Icannot be very certain where this range lies. I wanted to reach the23rd parallel, but as the country looked so gloomy and forbiddingfarther north, it was useless plunging for only a few miles more intosuch a smashed and broken region. By careful estimate it was quitefair to assume that we had passed the Tropic of Capricorn by somemiles, as my estimated latitude here was 23 degrees 15', and longitudeabout 119 degrees 37'. I was in such pain that I ordered an instantretreat, my only desire being to get back to the depot and repose inthe shade. 

This was the 18th of May, and though the winter season ought to haveset in, and cool weather should have been experienced, yet we hadnothing of the kind, but still had to swelter under the enervatingrays of the burning sun of this shadeless land; and at night, asleeping-place could only be obtained by removing stones, spinifex, and thorny vegetation from the ground. The latter remark, it may beunderstood, does not apply to only this one place or line of travel;it was always the case. After returning for a few miles on ouroutcoming tracks, Alec found a watercourse that ran south-westerly, and as it must eventually fall into the Ashburton, we followed it. Intravelling down its course on the 22nd the creek became enclosed byhills on either side, and we found an extraordinary rocky spring. Thechannel of the creek dropped suddenly down to a lower level, which, when in flood, must no doubt form a splendid cascade. Now a personcould stand on a vast boulder of granite and look down at the waters, as they fell in little sprays from the springs that supplied the spot;the small streams rushing out from among the fissures of the brokenrocks, and all descending into a fine basin below. To Alec's eyes wasthis romantic scene displayed. The rocks above, below, and around, were fringed and decked with various vegetations; shrubs and smalltrees ornamented nearly the whole of the surrounding rocks, amongstwhich the native fig-tree, Ficus platypoda, was conspicuous. It musthave been a very pretty place. I could hear the water rushing andsplashing, but could not see anything. It appeared also that the waterran out of the basin below into the creek channel, which goes on itscourse apparently through or into a glen. I describe this peculiarfreak of nature from what Alec told me; I hope my description will notmislead others. Soon after we found that this was the case, as we nowentered an exceedingly rough and rocky glen full of water--at least soit appeared to Alec, who could see nothing but water as far down as hecould look. At first the water was between three and four feet deep;the farther we went the deeper the water became. Could any one haveseen us we must have presented a very novel sight, as the camels gotnearly up to their humps in water, and would occasionally refuse to goon; they would hang back, break their nose-ropes, and then lie quietlydown until they were nearly drowned. We had to beat and pull them upthe best way we could. It was rather disagreeable for a blind man toslip off a camel up to his neck in cold water, and, lifting up hiseyelids with both hands, try to see what was going on. Having, however, gone so far, we thought it best to continue, as we expectedthe glen to end at any turn; but the water became so deep that Alec'sriding cow Buzoe, being in water deep enough for her to swim in, ifshe could swim, refused to go any farther, and thought she would liketo lie down. This she tried, but the water was too deep for her tokeep her head above it, and after being nearly smothered she got upagain:--

 "And now to issue from the glen, No pathway meets the wand'rers' ken, Unless they climb, with footing nice, A far-projecting precipice. "

It would be out of all propriety to expect a camel to climb aprecipice; fortunately at a few yards further a turn of the glenshowed Alec a place on the southern bank where a lot of rocks hadfallen down. It was with the greatest difficulty we got to it, andwith still greater that at last we reached the top of the cliff, andsaid good-bye to this watery glen. Our clothes, saddles, blankets, andfood were soaked to a pulp. We could not reach the depot that night, but did so early on the following day. I called this singular glen inwhich the camels were nearly drowned, Glen Camel. 

No natives had visited the camp, nor had any living thing, other thanflies, been seen, while we were away, except a few pigeons. The campat this depot was fixed on the soft, sandy bed of the Ashburton, closeto the junction of the east creek, which Alec and I had followed up. It had been slightly flooded by the late rains, and two open ponds ofclear water remained in the bed of the Ashburton. It seems probablethat water might always be procured here by digging, but it iscertainly not always visible on the surface. Once or twice beforereaching the depot, we saw one or two places with dried-up bulrushesgrowing in the bed, and water may have existed there in the sand. Inconsequence of my eyes being so bad, we remained here for the next twodays. The heat and the flies were dreadful; and the thermometerindicated 93 degrees one day and 95 degrees the next, in the shade. Itwas impossible to get a moment's peace or rest from the attacks of theflies; the pests kept eating into our eyes, which were already badenough. This seemed to be the only object for which these wretcheswere invented and lived, and they also seemed to be quite ready andwilling to die, rather than desist a moment from their occupation. Everybody had an attack of the blight, as ophthalmia is called inAustralia, which with the flies were enough to set any one deranged. Every little sore or wound on the hands or face was covered by them inswarms; they scorned to use their wings, they preferred walking toflying; one might kill them in millions, yet other, and hungriermillions would still come on, rejoicing in the death of theirpredecessors, as they now had not only men's eyes and wounds to eat, but could batten upon the bodies of their slaughtered friends also. Strange to say, we were not troubled here with ants; had we been, weshould only have required a few spears stuck into us to complete ourhappiness. A very pretty view was to be obtained from the summit ofany of the flat-topped hills in this neighbourhood, and an area ofnearly 100 square miles of excellent country might be had here. 

On Friday, the 26th of May, we left the depot at this Grand Junction. The river comes to this place from the south for some few miles. Inten miles we found that it came through a low pass, which hems it infor some distance. Two or three tributaries joined, and above them itsbed had become considerably smaller than formerly. At about eighteenmiles from the depot we came upon a permanent water, fed by springs, which fell into a fine rock reservoir, and in this, we saw many fishdisporting themselves in their pure and pellucid pond. Several of thefishes were over a foot long. The water was ten or more feet deep. Agreat quantity of tea-tree, Melaleuca, grew in the river-bed here;indeed, our progress was completely stopped by it, and we had to cutdown timber for some distance to make a passage for the camels beforewe could get past the place, the river being confined in a glen. PeterNicholls was the first white man who ever saw this extraordinaryplace, and I have called it Nicholls's Fish Ponds after him. It willbe noticed that the characteristics of the only permanent waters inthis region are rocky springs and reservoirs, such as Saleh's FishPonds, Glen Ross, Glen Camel, and Nicholls's Fish Ponds will show. More junctions occurred in this neighbourhood, and it was quiteevident that the main river could not exist much farther, asimmediately above every tributary its size became manifestly reduced. 

On the 27th of May we camped close to a red hill on the south bank ofthe river; just below it, was another spring, at which a few reeds andsome bulrushes were growing. The only views from any of the hills nearthe river displayed an almost unvarying scene; low hills near thebanks of the river, and some a trifle higher in the background. Theriver had always been in a confined valley from the time we firststruck it, and it was now more confined than ever. On the morning ofthe 28th of May we had a frost for the first time this year, thethermometer indicating 28 degrees. To-day we crossed several moretributaries, mostly from the north side; but towards evening the riversplit in two, at least here occurred the junction of two creeks ofalmost equal size, and it was difficult to determine which was themain branch. I did not wish to go any farther south, therefore I tookthe more northerly one; its trend, as our course for some days pasthad been, was a good deal south of east; indeed, we have travelledabout east-south-east since leaving the depot. In the upper portionsof the river we found more water in the channel than we had done lowerdown; perhaps more rain had fallen in these hills. 

By the 29th, the river or creek-channel had become a mere thread; thehills were lowering, and the country in the glen and outside was allstones and scrub. We camped at a small rain-water hole about a mileand a half from a bluff hill, from whose top, a few stunted gum-treescould be seen a little farther up the channel. Having now run theAshburton up to its head, I could scarcely expect to find any morewater before entering Gibson's Desert, which I felt sure commenceshere. So far as I knew, the next water was in the Rawlinson Range ofmy former horse expedition, a distance of over 450 miles. And what thenature of the country between was, no human being knew, at least nocivilised human being. I was greatly disappointed to find that theAshburton River did not exist for a greater distance eastwards thanthis, as when I first struck it, it seemed as though it would carry meto the eastwards for hundreds of miles. I had followed it only eightyor a trifle more, and now it was a thing of the past. It may be saidto rise from nowhere, being like a vast number of Australian rivers, merely formed in its lower portions by the number of tributaries thatjoin it. There are very few pretty or romantic places to be seen nearit. The country and views at the Grand Junction Depot form nearly theonly exceptions met. From that point the river decreased in size withevery branch creek that joined it, and now it had decreased tonothing. No high ranges form its head. The hills forming itswater-shed become gradually lower as we approach its termination, orrather beginning, at the desert's edge. The desert's edge is a raisedplateau of over 2000 feet above the sea-level--the boiling point ofwater being 208 degrees = 2049 feet--and being about 350 miles in astraight line from where the Ashburton debouches into the sea. My campupon the evening of the 29th of May, a little westward of thebluff-faced hill before mentioned, was in latitude 24 degrees 25' andlongitude 119 degrees 58'. We remained here during the 30th. Thehorizon to the east was formed by a mass of low ranges; from them wesaw that several diminutive watercourses ran into our exhaustedchannel. I could not expect that any hills would extend much fartherto the east, or that I should now obtain any water much farther inthat direction. A line of low ridges ran all round the easternhorizon, and another bluff-faced hill lay at the south-west end ofthem. The whole region had a most barren and wretched appearance, andthere was little or no vegetation of any kind that the camels cared toeat. Feeling certain that I should now almost immediately enter thedesert, as the explorer can scent it from afar, I had all ourwater-vessels filled, as fortunately there was sufficient water forthe purpose, so that when we leave this camp we shall not be entirelyunprepared. 

The morning of the 31st of May was again cold, the thermometer fallingto 27 degrees, and we had a sharp frost. I was truly delighted towelcome this long-expected change, and hoped the winter or cool seasonhad set in at last. This day we travelled east, and went over low, rough ridges and stony spinifex hills for several miles. At abouteleven miles, finding a dry water-channel, which, however, had somegood camel shrubs upon its banks, we encamped in latitude 24 degrees28', being still among low ridges, where no definite view could beobtained. On June the 1st we travelled nearly east-north-east towardsanother low ridge. The ground became entirely covered with spinifex, and I thought we had entered the desert in good earnest; but at aboutsix miles we came upon a piece of better country with real grass, being much more agreeable to look at. Going on a short distance wecame upon a dry water-channel, at which we found a deep native wellwith bitter water in it. We encamped in latitude 24 degrees 24'. Thenight and following morning were exceedingly cold--the thermometerfell to 18 degrees. 

We had not yet reached the low ridge, but arrived at it in two mileson the morning of the 2nd. From it another low ridge bore 23 degreesnorth of east, and I decided to travel thither. 

To-day we had a good deal of country covered with ironstone gravel; wepassed a few grassy patches with, here and there, some salt bush andacacia flats; there were also many desert shrubs and narrow thickets. The camp was fixed nearly under the brow of the ridge we had steeredfor, and it was quite evident, though a few ridges yet appeared for ashort distance farther east, that we had at length reached thedesert's edge and the commencement of the watershed of the westerncoast. It will be observed that in my journey through the scrubs toPerth, I had met with no creeks or water-sheds at all, until after Ireached the first outlying settlement. 

The question which now arose was, what kind of country existed betweenus and my farthest watered point in 1874 at the Rawlinson Range? In aperfectly straight line it would be 450 miles. The latitude of thiscamp was 24 degrees 16' 6". I called it the Red Ridge camp. Since mylast attack of ophthalmia, I suffer great pain and confusion whenusing the sextant. The attack I have mentioned in this journey was byno means the only one I have had on my numerous journeys; I haveindeed had more or less virulent attacks for the last twenty years, and I believe the disease is now chronic, though suppressed. From theRed Ridge camp we went about eight miles east-north-east, and I foundunder a mass of low scrubby hills or rises tipped with red sandstone, a rocky cleft in the ground, round about which were numerous oldnative encampments; I could see water under a rock; the cleft wasnarrow, and slanted obliquely downwards; it was not wide enough toadmit a bucket. There was amply sufficient water for all my camels, but it was very tedious work to get enough out with a quart pot; therock was sandstone. There was now no doubt in my mind, that all beyondthis point was pure and unrelieved desert, for we were surrounded byspinifex, and the first waves of the dreaded sandhills were in view. The country was entirely open, and only a sandy undulation to theeastward bounded the horizon. The desert had to be crossed, or atleast attempted, even if it had been 1000 miles in extent; I thereforewasted no time in plunging into it, not delaying to encamp at thislast rocky reservoir. After watering our camels we made our way forabout four miles amongst the sandhills. As we passed by, I noticed asolitary desert oak-tree, Casuarina decaisneana, and a number of theAustralian grass-trees, Xanthorrhoea. The country was almost destituteof timber, except that upon the tops of the parallel lines of redsandhills, which mostly ran in a north-east and south-west direction, a few stunted specimens of the eucalypt, known as blood-wood or redgum existed. This tree grows to magnificent proportions in Queensland, and down the west coast from Fremantle, always in a watered region. Heaven only knows how it ever got here, or how it could grow on thetops of red sandhills. Having stopped to water our camels at the rockycleft, our first day's march into the desert was only eleven miles. Our camp at night was in latitude 24 degrees 12' 22". 

The next day all signs of rises, ridges, hills, or ranges, haddisappeared behind the sandhills of the western horizon, and thesolitary caravan was now launched into the desert, like a ship uponthe ocean, with nothing but Providence and our latitude to dependupon, to enable us to reach the other side. 

The following morning, Sunday, the 4th June, was remarkably warm, thethermometer not having descended during the night to less than 60degrees, though only two mornings ago it was down to 18 degrees. I nowtravelled so as gradually to reach the 24th parallel, in hopes somelines of hills or ranges might be discovered near it. Our course waseast by north. We had many severe ridges of sand to cross, and thismade our rate of travelling very slow. We saw one desert oak-tree anda few currajong-trees of the order of Sterculias, some grass-trees, quandong, or native peach, Fusanus, a kind of sandal-wood, and the redgum or blood-wood-trees; the latter always grows upon ground as highas it can get, and therefore ornaments the tops of the sandhills, while all the first-named trees frequent the lower ground betweenthem. To-day we only made good twenty miles, though we travelled untildark, hoping to find some food, or proper bushes for the camels; but, failing in this, had to turn them out at last to find what sustenancethey could for themselves. On the following morning, when they werebrought up to the camp--at least when some of them were--I wasinformed that several had got poisoned in the night, and were quiteunable to move, while one or two of them were supposed to be dying. This, upon the outskirt of the desert, was terrible news to hear, andthe question of what's to be done immediately arose; but it wasanswered almost as soon, by the evident fact that nothing could bedone, because half the camels could not move, and it would be worsethan useless to pack up the other half and leave them. So we quietlyremained and tended our sick and dying ones so well, that by night oneof the worst was got on his legs again. We made them sick with hotwater, butter, and mustard, and gave them injections with the clysterpipe as well; the only substance we could get out of them was thechewed-up Gyrostemon ramulosus, which, it being nearly dark, we hadnot observed when we camped. We drove the mob some distance to anothersandhill, where there was very little of this terrible scourge, andthe next morning I was delighted to find that the worst ones and theothers were evidently better, although they were afflicted withstaggers and tremblings of the hind limbs. I was rather undecided whatto do, whether to push farther at once into the desert or retreat tothe last rocky cleft water, now over five-and-twenty miles behind us. But, as Othello says, once to be in doubt is once to be resolved, andI decided that, as long as they could stagger, the camels shouldstagger on. In about twelve miles Alec Ross and Tommy found a placewhere the natives had formerly obtained water by digging. Here we setto work and dug a well, but only got it down twelve feet by night, nowater making its appearance. The next morning we were at it again, andat fifteen feet we saw the fluid we were delving for. The water wasyellowish, but pure, and there was apparently a good supply. We had, unfortunately, hit on the top of a rock that covered nearly the wholebottom, and what water we got came in only at one corner. Two othercamels were poisoned in the night, but those that were first attackedwere a trifle better. 

On the 8th of June more camels were attacked, and it was impossible toget out of this horrible and poisonous region. The wretched countryseems smothered with the poisonous plant. I dread the reappearance ofevery morning, for fear of fresh and fatal cases. This plant, theGyrostemon, does not seem a certain deadly poison, but as I lost onecamel by death from it, at Mr. Palmer's camp, near Geraldton, and somany are continually becoming prostrated by its virulence, it may bewell understood how we dread the sight of it, for none can tell howsoon or how many of our animals might be killed. As it grows here, allover the country, the unpoisoned camels persist in eating it; afterthey have had a shock, however, they generally leave it entirelyalone; but there is, unfortunately, nothing else for them to eat here. 

The weather now is very variable. The thermometer indicated only 18degrees this morning, and we had thick ice in all the vessels thatcontained any water overnight; but in the middle of the day it wasimpossible to sit with comfort, except in the shade. The flies stillswarmed in undiminished millions; there are also great numbers of thesmall and most annoying sand-flies, which, though almost too minute tobe seen, have a marvellous power of making themselves felt. The wellwe put down was sunk in a rather large flat between the sandhills. Thewhole country is covered with spinifex in every direction, and this, together with the poisonous bushes and a few blood-wood-trees, formsthe only vegetation. The pendulous fringe instead of leaves on thepoison bush gives it a strange and weird appearance, and to us italways presents the hideous, and terrible form of a deadly Upas-tree. 

CHAPTER 5. 4. FROM 11TH JUNE TO 23RD AUGUST, 1876. 

Farther into the desert. Sandhills crowned with stones. Natives' smokes and footprints seen. Weakened camels. Native well. Ten days' waterless march. Buzoe's grave. A region of desolation. Eagles. Birds round the well. Natives hovering near. Their different smokes. Wallaby. Sad Solitude's triumphant reign. The Alfred and Marie range once more. The Rawlinson range and Mount Destruction. Australia twice traversed. Fort McKellar. Tyndall's Springs. A last search after Gibson. Tommy's Flat. The Circus. The Eagle. Return to Sladen Water. The Petermann tribes. Marvellous Mount Olga. Glen Watson. Natives of the Musgrave range. A robbery. Cattle camps. The missing link. South for the Everard range. Everard natives. Show us a watering-place. Alec and Tommy find water. More natives. Compelled to give up their plunder. Natives assist at dinner. Like banyan-trees. A bad camping-place. Natives accompany us. Find the native well. The Everard revisited. Gruel thick and slab. Well in the Ferdinand. Rock-hole water. Natives numerous and objectionable. Mischief brewing. A hunt for spears. Attack frustrated. Taking an observation. A midnight foe. The next morning. Funeral march. A new well. Change of country. Approaching the telegraph line. The Alberga. Decrepit native women. The Neales. Mount O'Halloran. The telegraph line. Dry state of the country. Hann's Creek. Arrival at the Peake. 

On the 11th of June I was delighted to be able to be again upon themove, and leave this detestable poisonous place and our fifteen-footshaft behind. Our only regret was that we had been compelled to remainso long. The camels had nearly all been poisoned, some very much worsethan others; but all looked gaunt and hollow-eyed, and wereexceedingly weak and wretched, one remarkable exception being noticedin Alec Ross's riding-cow, old Buzoe, who had either not eaten thepoison plant, or had escaped untouched by it. Our course was now eastby north, and as we got farther into the desert, I noticed thatoccasionally some of the undulations of sand were crowned with stones, wherever they came from. Where these stones crop up a growth oftimber, generally mulga, occurs with them. It is sandstone that tipsthese rises. Some smokes of native fires were seen from our line ofmarch, in northerly and southerly directions, and occasionally thefootprints upon the sands, of some wandering child of the desert. These were the only indications we could discover of the existence ofprimordial man upon the scene. We passed a few grass-trees, which areusually called "black boys" in almost every part of the continentwhere they exist, and they seem to range over nearly the whole ofAustralia, from Sydney to Perth, south of the Tropic. The camels wereso weak that to-day we could only accomplish about eighteen miles. Atfive miles, on the following morning, we passed a hollow with somemulga acacia in it. Near them Alec and I found a place where thenumber of deserted huts, or gunyahs of the natives induced us to lookabout for a well or some other kind of watering-place. An old well wassoon found, which was very shallow; the water was slightly brackishand not more than three feet below the surface. How I wished I hadknown of its existence before, it being not twenty-five miles from ourpoison camp, and that some good acacia bushes grew here also; as itwas, I made no use of it. The weather being cool, and the camelshaving filled themselves with water at the deep well, they would notdrink. That afternoon we got into a hollow where there was a low ridgeof flat-topped cliffs, and a good deal of mulga timber in it. Verylikely in times of rain a flow of water might be found here, if thereever are times of rain in such a region. We just cleared the valley bynight, having travelled nearly twenty miles. My latitude here was 23degrees 56' 20" and not desiring to go any farther north, I inclinedmy course a little southerly--that is to say, in an east by southdirection. 

We had left the deep well on the 9th June, and not until ten days ofcontinuous travelling had been accomplished--it being now the18th--did we see any more water. That evening we reached a littletrifling water-channel, with a few small scattered white gum-trees, coming from a low stony mulga-crowned ridge, and by digging in it wefound a slight soakage of water. Here we dug a good-sized tank, whichthe water partly filled, and this enabled us to water all the camels. They had travelled 230 miles from our deep well. For the last two orthree days poor old Buzoe, Alec Ross's riding cow, has been very ill, and almost unable to travel; she is old and worn out, poor oldcreature, having been one of Sir Thomas Elder's original importationsfrom India. She had always been a quiet, easy-paced old pet, and I wasvery much grieved to see her ailing. I did not like to abandon her, and we had to drag her with a bull camel and beat her along, until shecrossed this instalment of Gibson's Desert: but she never left thisspot, which I have named Buzoe's Grave. I don't think this old cow hadbeen poisoned--at least she never showed any signs of it; I believe itwas sheer old age and decay that assailed her at last. The position ofthis welcome watered spot was in latitude 24 degrees 33', andlongitude 123 degrees 57'. It was by wondrous good fortune that wecame upon it, and it was the merest chance that any water was there. In another day or two there would have been none; as it was, only alittle rainwater, that had not quite ceased to drain down thehalf-stony, half-sandy bed of the little gully, was all we got. Theweather had been very disagreeable for some days past, the thermometerin the early dawn generally indicating 18 degrees while in the middleof the day the heat was oppressive. 

The flies were still about us, in persecuting myriads. The nature ofthe country during this march was similar to that previouslydescribed, being quite open, it rolled along in ceaseless undulationsof sand. The only vegetation besides the ever-abounding spinifex was afew blood-wood-trees on the tops of some of the red heaps of sand, with an occasional desert oak, an odd patch or clump of mallee-trees, standing desolately alone, and perhaps having a stunted specimen ortwo of the quandong or native peach-tree, and the dreaded Gyrostemongrowing among them. The region is so desolate that it is horrifyingeven to describe. The eye of God looking down on the solitary caravan, as with its slow, and snake-like motion, it presents the only livingobject around, must have contemplated its appearance on such a scenewith pitying admiration, as it forced its way continually on; onwardswithout pausing, over this vast sandy region, avoiding death only bymotion and distance, until some oasis can be found. Slow as eternityit seems to move, but certain we trust as death; and truly thewanderer in its wilds may snatch a fearful joy at having once beheldthe scenes, that human eyes ought never again to see. On the 15th ofJune we found a hollow in which were two or three small salt-lakebeds, but these were perfectly dry; on the 16th also another solitaryone was seen, and here a few low rises lay across a part of theeastern horizon. On the 17th a little water left in the bottom of abucket overnight was frozen into a thick cake in the morning, thethermometer indicating 18 degrees. The nights I pass in these fearfulregions are more dreadful than the days, for "night is the time forcare, brooding o'er days misspent, when the pale spectre of despaircomes to our lonely tent;" and often when I lay me down I fall into adim and death-like trance, wakeful, yet "dreaming dreams no mortalshad ever dared to dream before. "

The few native inhabitants of these regions occasionally burn everyportion of their territories, and on a favourably windy day a spinifexfire might run on for scores of miles. We occasionally cross suchdesolated spaces, where every species of vegetation has been by flamesdevoured. Devoured they are, but not demolished, as out of the rootsand ashes of their former natures, phoenix-like, they rise again. Afew Australian eagles are occasionally seen far up in the azure sky, hovering with astonished gaze, over the unwonted forms below; and asthe leading camels of the caravan frighten some wretched littlewallaby from its lair under a spinifex bunch, instantly the eagleswoops from its height, and before the astonished creature has hadtime to find another refuge he is caught in the talons of his foe. Wealso are on the watch, and during the momentary struggle, before theeagle can so quiet his victim as to be able to fly away with it, upgallops Reechy, Alec and Tommy, and very often we secure the prize. Round this spot at Buzoe's Grave, just while the water lasts Isuppose, there were crows, small hawks, a few birds like cockatoos, and many bronze-winged pigeons. Some natives also were hovering near, attracted probably by the sight of strange smoke. The natives of theseregions signal with different kinds of smoke by burning differentwoods or bark, and know a strange smoke in an instant. Some smokeswhich they make, go up like a thin white column, others are dark andtower-like, while others again are broad and scattered. These nativeswould not come to visit us. The small marsupial wallaby, which Imentioned just now, exists throughout the whole of these deserts; theylive entirely without water, as do many small birds we occasionallysee where there is a patch of timber. The wallabies hide during theday amongst the spinifex bushes, and feed, like other rodents, ontheir roots at night. Another way of getting some of these wallabieswas by knocking them over, blackfellow fashion, with a short stick, when startled from their hiding-places. Tommy used to work very hardat this game, and we usually got one a day for food for our littledogs. They are exceedingly good eating, being very like rabbits insize and taste. We remained at this little oasis, I suppose I may callit--at least it was so to us, though I should not like to return to itwith any expectation of getting water again, for when we left, thewater had ceased to drain in, and there were only a few pints of thickmuddy fluid left in the tank at the end of our three days' rest. Theplace might well be termed the centre of silence and solitude; despairand desolation are the only intruders here upon sad solitude'striumphant reign. Well may the traveller here desire for moreinhabited lands; rather to contend with fierce and warlike men; tolive amongst far noisier deaths, or die amid far louder dangers! Ioften declare that:--

 "I'll to Afric lion haunted, Baboons blood I'll daily quaff; And I'll go a tiger-hunting On a thorough-bred giraffe. "

Whenever we had east winds in this region, the weather was cool andagreeable; but when they blow from any other quarter, it becomes muchhotter, and the flies return in myriads to annoy us. Where they getto when an east wind blows, the east wind only knows. 

Leaving Buzoe's Grave, which had proved a godsend to us, with a swarmof eagles, crows, hawks, vultures, and at night wild dogs, eating upher carcase, in four days' farther travel we neared the spot from thewest, where the Alfred and Marie Ranges lie. The first sight of theseranges from the east, had cost my former horse expedition into thisregion so dear. I could not help believing that the guiding hand of agracious Providence had upon that occasion prevented me from obtainingmy heart's desire to reach them; for had I then done so, I know now, having proved what kind of country lay beyond that, neither I nor anyof my former party would ever have returned. Assuredly there is aProvidence that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will. Thesehills were in reality much lower than they appeared to be, when lookedat from the east; in fact, they were so low and uninteresting, that Idid not investigate them otherwise than with field-glasses. We passedby the northern end, and though the southern end was a little higher, I could see that there were no watering-places possible other thanchance rock receptacles, and of these there were no signs. At thenorthern end we came upon a small shallow kind of stony pan, where alittle rain-water was yet lying, proving that the rains we hadexperienced in May, before leaving the western watershed, must haveextended into the desert. We reached this drop of water on the 25th ofJune, and the camels drank it all up while we rested on the 26th. After five days' more travelling over the same kind of desert asformerly described, except that the sand-mounds rose higher yet infront of us, still progressing eastwards, the well-remembered featuresof the Rawlinson Range and the terrible Mount Destruction rose at lastupon my view. 

On reaching the range, I suppose I may say that the exploring part ofmy expedition was at an end, for I had twice traversed Australia; andalthough many hundreds of miles had yet to be travelled before weshould reach the abodes of civilisation, the intervening country hadall been previously explored by myself. For a full account of myformer explorations into this region, I must refer my reader to thechapters on my second expedition. The first water we reached in theRawlinson Range was at a rock-hole about ten miles eastwards from theCircus water, the place from whence Gibson and I started to explore tothe west. His death, the loss of all the horses, and my struggles toregain my depot on foot, are they not written in the chronicles ofthat expedition?

On reaching my former depot at Fort McKellar, I found the whole placeso choked up with shrubs and bushes, that it was quite impossible tocamp there, without wasting a week in cutting the vegetation away, although it had formerly been sufficiently open for an explorer'scamp. The spring was running as strong as ever. The bridge had beenwashed away. However, at less than a mile from it, there was Tyndall'sSpring, with an open shady space, among the clump of fine gum-trees, which gave us an excellent camping-place. Here the camp remained forsome days. A line of green bulrushes fringed this spring. While themain party camped here, I once more tried to find some remains ortraces of my lost companion Gibson, taking with me only Tommy Oldham. It was quite a forlorn hope, as Gibson had gone away with only onehorse; and since we reached the range, we had passed over places whereI knew that all the horses I then had with me had gone over theground, but no signs of former horse-tracks could be seen, thereforethe chance of finding any traces of a single animal was infinitesimal. Tommy and I expended three days in trying to discover traces, but itwas utterly useless, and we returned unsuccessful to the depot. 

Singular to say, on this attempt I found a place west from the end, the Rawlinson Range, where there were some rock-holes on a grassymulga flat, but we did not require the water, as the camels would notdrink. Had I come upon this spot when I was in this region before, itmight have saved Gibson and all the horses that were lost with him. Icalled this little watered spot, Tommy's Flat; the latitude of it is24 degrees 52' 3". It bears 9 degrees south of west from a peculiarred sandhill that is visible from any of the hills at the westernextremity of the Rawlinson Range; and lies in a flat or hollow betweenthe said red sandhill, and the nearest of a few low stony hills, aboutfour miles farther away to the west. On visiting the Circus, I foundthe water-hole was full and deep. This was very different from itsstate when I had seen it last. The recording eagle still was sittingimmovable on his crag, Prometheus-like, apparently chained to therock. 

On the 11th of July, the main party having been encamped at Tyndall'sSprings for seven days, we departed for Sladen Water, at the Pass ofthe Abencerrages. All the other places previously mentioned on therange, had plenty of water running on for ever, though at the Pass thesupply was rather lower than I had seen it previously. There was, however, quite enough for all our requirements. The little sweet-waterspring was bubbling up, and running over as of yore. Both at FortMcKellar and here I found that the bones of the horses we had smokedand eaten had been removed by the natives, or wild dogs. At FortMcKellar the smoke-house frame had either fallen or been knocked down;while here, at the Pass, the natives had removed the timber, andplaced portions of it in different places and positions. We saw noneof the natives belonging to the range, although their smokes were avery short distance away. Sladen Water was always a favourite spotwith me, and we rested a day at it for old association's sake. 

On the 14th of July we left the place, and travelled along my formerroute, via Gill's Pinnacle, and all the other watering-placesmentioned in my preceding narrative. The Petermann Range looked greenand beautiful. It had evidently been visited by rains. A portion ofthe Rawlinson and the Petermann Ranges were the only spots forhundreds of miles of which this could be said. The Hull here runs nearthe boundary of the two colonies of South, and Western Australia, andcrossing it, we entered the former province once more. When nearly atthe eastern end of the Petermann--that is to say, close to MountPhillips--we camped in Winter's Glen, where the whole tribes of thePetermann were located. They instantly armed themselves, andendeavoured to prevent our progress. Several of them recognised me, and I them; for in my first visit to this range, with Tietkens, we hadthree encounters with them. They evidently intended mischief again;but they kept off until morning, and we then, being in full marchingorder, with our firearms in our hands, and all walking alongside ofthe camels and ready for attack, managed to pass away from themwithout a collision. Leaving their country behind us, we went via theSugar-loaf, and thence to the Musgrave Ranges, not now revisiting themarvellous Mount Olga; we entered the range near Glen Watson. Therewas plenty of water in the glen, but the country, in general, aboutthe range, was in a very dry state. As, however, it has permanentsprings, we had no difficulty from want of water. When nearly at theeastern end of the Musgrave Range, a number of natives came tointerview the caravan, and actually pulled some coats and blankets offNicholls's and Tommy's riding camels, and ran away with them. They hadpreviously begged Nicholls to shoot kangaroos for them, therebyshowing that they remembered the use of firearms, which formerly I hadbeen compelled to teach them. 

(ILLUSTRATION: GLEN FERDINAND. )

I was away from the party when this robbery was committed. Near theeastern end of this range it will be remembered I had formerlydiscovered a large watercourse, with a fine spring running along itsbed, which I called the Ferdinand; here we encamped again. From henceI determined to reach the South Australian Telegraph Line upon a newroute, and to follow the Ferdinand, which runs to the south. A mass ofhills that I had formerly seen and named the Everard Ranges, lay inthat direction, and I desired to visit them also. At and around thewater at Glen Ferdinand, as well as at other places on this range, considerable quantities of dung, old tracks, and sleeping camps ofcattle were found, but no live animals were seen. 

After resting a day at Glen Ferdinand we departed, following the banksof the creek. Just at leaving, an old black man and two lads madetheir appearance. This old party was remarkably shy; the elder boyseemed a little frightened, and didn't relish being touched by a whiteman, but the youngest was quite at his ease, and came up to me withthe audacity and insouciance of early youth, and pulled me about. WhenI patted him, he grinned like any other monkey. None of them werehandsome; the old man was so monkey-like--he would have charmed theheart of Professor Darwin. I thought I had found the missing link, andI had thoughts of preserving him in methylated spirits, only I had nota bottle large enough. 

Following the channel of the Ferdinand nearly south, we came to somelimestone rises with one or two native wells, but no water was seen inthem. The country was good, grassy, nearly level, with low, sandy, mulga rises, fit for stock of any kind. There were a few detachedgranite hills, peeping here and there amongst the tree-tops. Thecreek-channel appeared to run through, or close to, some of the hillsof the Everard Ranges; and I left it to visit them. At one of theoutcropping granite mounds, at about forty-eight miles from GlenFerdinand, Alec Ross found a large native well, which bore 12 degreeseast of south from Mount Ferdinand, a conspicuous point overlookingthe glen. We did not require to use this well, but there was plenty ofwater in it. Arriving at the first hills of the Everard, I found theywere all very peculiar, bare, red, granite mounds, being the mostextraordinary ranges one could possibly imagine, if indeed any onecould imagine such a scene. They have thousands of acres of bare rock, piled up into mountainous shapes and lay in isolated masses, formingsomething like a broken circle, all round a central and higher mass. They have valleys filled with scrubs between each section. Numerousrocky glens and gorges were seen, having various kinds of shrubs andlow trees growing in the interstices of the rocks. Every thing andevery place was parched, bare, and dry. We searched in many places forwater without success. 

At length some natives made their appearance, and showed us wherewater could be had by digging. This was a most disagreeable andawkward spot to get the camels to, but after a great deal of labour inmaking a tank, and rolling boulders of rock out of the way, we wereenabled to give them a drink. There was but a very poor supply. 

The water we got here was in a small gum-creek under the highest hillin the centre of the group upon its northern face. The summit of thehill above it bore 21 degrees east of south, from Mount Ferdinand, inthe Musgrave Ranges, and it is sixty-four miles from my camp at GlenFerdinand water. Alec and Tommy searched for, and found, some otherwater in rock-holes at the back or south side of this central hill, nearly three miles round. Several more natives came to the camp, andsome of them worked a little at watering the camels, but were greatlyscandalised at seeing them drink such enormous quantities, and nodoubt, in their heart of hearts, they were grieved that they had shownus the place. And in order to recoup themselves in some measure fortheir romantic generosity, they quietly walked away with severalunconsidered trifles out of the camp, such as ration bags, towels, socks, etc. These thefts always occur when I am away. I made one oldgentleman who took some things disgorge his loot, and he and hisfriend who had dined with us went away, in the last stage ofdispleasure. There are apparently but few natives about here just now;had there been more of them we might have had some trouble, as indeedI subsequently had at the rock-holes at the back of this hill. 

The following day we went round to Alec's rock-holes, intending tohave dinner, water the camels if they would drink, and fill our casksbefore plunging again into the scrubs that extended everywhere to thesouth. To the east a flat-topped, bluff-faced hill was visible. Whilewe were at dinner several natives came and assisted us, and pointed ina direction a little west of south, where they said water existed. Thewhole space round the foot of the rocks here is choked up with a thickand vigorous growth of the native fig-trees, which grow somewhat likebanyan-trees, except that suckers do not descend from the upperbranches and take root in the ground alongside the parent stem; butthe roots of this tree run along the rocks to find crevices with soil, and then a fresh growth springs up; in general it does not grow veryhigh, twenty feet is about the limit. There was a small creek channel, and mulga scrubs to the west of it, that grew right up to the bank, and any party camping here would be completely hemmed in. I amparticular in describing the place, as on a subsequent occasion, myself and the party then with me, escaped death there. I will relatethe circumstances further on. Now we left the place after dinner, andthe natives accompanied us; we camped in mulga scrubs at about tenmiles from the rocks. These young darkies seemed very good, andfriendly fellows; in all wild tribes of Australian natives, the boysand very young men, as well as the girls and women, seem to takeimmediately to white men. The young children, however, are generallyvery much frightened; but it is the vile and wicked old men that arethe arch-villains of the piece, and who excite the passions of thejuniors of the tribe to commit all sorts of atrocities. 

These fellows were the best of friends with my men and myself; we werelaughing and joking and generally having a good time. I amused themgreatly by passing a stick through my nose; I had formerly gonethrough an excruciating operation for that purpose, and telling them Ionce had been a black fellow. They spoke but little English, and itwas mostly through a few words that Alec Ross knew, of the Peake, Macumba, or Alberga tribes that we could talk to each other at all. After this we got them map-making on the sand. They demonstrated thatthe Ferdinand, which we had left, and had still on our right or westof us, running south, swept round suddenly to the eastwards and nowlay across the country in front of us; that in its further progress itran into, and formed a lake, then continuing, it at last reached a bigsalt lake, probably Lake Eyre; they also said we should get water bydigging in the sand in the morning, when we struck the Ferdinandchannel again. Soon after we started and were proceeding on ourcourse, south 26 degrees west, from the rock-water, the natives allfell back and we saw no more of them. In twenty miles we came to thecreek, and turning down its channel eastwards we found the well ofwhich they had told us. There was plenty of water in it, no doubt, butwe did not require it. The well seemed rather deep. We followed thecreek for some distance, at length it became very undefined, and thegum timber disappeared. Only a few acacia bushes now indicated theflow of the water over the grassy mulga flats, which wound about somuch around sandhills in the scrub, that I left the creek, and pushedon now for the South Australian Telegraph Line. 

I will now give a rapid account of what I said was a narrow escapefrom death at those rock-holes we had just left. I may say in passing, that what I have recorded as my travels and explorations in Australiain these volumes, are probably not half of what I have reallyperformed, only I divide them under the two headings of public andprivate explorations. 

In the month of December, 1882, I was in this part of the world again. During the six years that had elapsed since my last visit in 1876, asurvey party had reached these ranges on a trigonometrical survey, andupon its return, the officer in charge reported having had sometrouble and a collision with the natives of the Everard Range. Isuppose my second visit occurred two years after that event. I wasaccompanied on that journey by a very young friend, named VernonEdwards, from Adelaide, and two young men named Perkins and Fitz, thelatter being cook, and a very good fellow he proved to be, but Perkinswas nothing of the sort. I had a black boy named Billy, and we hadtwelve camels. I approached the Everard Range from the south-westward, having found a good watering-place, which I called Verney's Wells, inthat direction. There, we met a lot of natives who did not belong tothe Everard Range tribes. At Verney's Wells we had a grand corrobboreein the warm moonlight; my young men and black boy stripped themselves, and young and old, black and white, danced and yelled, and generallymade the night hideous with their noise till early morning. After theball a grand supper was laid for our exhausted blackmen and brothers. The material of this feast was hot water, flour, and sugar mixed intoa consistent skilly. I had told the cook to make the gruel thick andslab, and then pour it out on sheets of bark. Our guests suppliedthemselves with spoons, or rather we cut them out of bark for them, and they helped themselves ad lib. A dozen pounds of flour sufficed tofeed a whole multitude. We left Verney's Wells and made up to the wellin the Ferdinand that I have just mentioned. This we opened out withshovels, and found a very good supply of water. From thence weproceeded to my old dinner-camp at the range, where, as I said before, the whole space about, was filled up with fig-trees. Almostimmediately upon our appearance, we heard the calls and cries and sawthe signal smokes, of the natives. We had to clear a space for thecamp and put up an awning. The water in the two lower holes was so lowthat the camels could not reach it, nor could we get enough out with abucket. There was plenty of water in the holes above, and as it wasall bare rock we set to work, some of the natives assisting, to balethe water out of some of the upper holes and splash it over the rocksinto the lower. The weather was very hot, and some of the old men sator lay down quite at their ease in our shade. The odours that exudefrom the persons of elderly black gentlemen, especially those notaddicted to the operation of bathing, would scarcely remind one of theperfumes of Araby the Blest, or Australia Felix either, therefore Iordered these intruders out. Thereupon they became very saucy anddisagreeable, and gave me to understand that this was their countryand their water--carpee--and after they had spoken in low gutturaltones to some of the younger men, the latter departed. Of course Iknew what this meant; they were to signal for and collect, all thetribe for an attack. I could read this purpose in their glances. Ihave had so much to do with these Australian peoples that, although Icannot speak all their languages--for nearly every ten miles a totallydifferent one may be used--yet a good deal of the language of severaltribes is familiar to me, and all their gestures speak to me inEnglish. I could at any rate now see that mischief was brewing. Nearsundown we spread a large tarpaulin on the ground to lay our blankets, rugs, etc. , to sleep on. When I had arranged my bed, several old menstanding close by, the master-fiend, deliberately threw himself downon my rugs. I am rather particular about my rugs and bedding, and thishighly though disagreeably perfumed old reptile, all greasy withrotten fat, lying down on and soiling them, slightly annoyed me; andnot pretending to be a personification of sweetness and light, I thinkI annoyed him a great deal more, for I gave him as good a thrashingwith a stick as he ever received, and he went away spitting at us, bubbling over with wrath and profanity, and called all the tribe afterhim, threatening us with the direst retribution. They all went to thewest, howling, yelling, and calling to one another. 

Young Verney Edwards was always most anxious to get a lot of natives'spears and other weapons, and I said, "Now, Verney, here's a chancefor you. You see the blacks have cleared out to the west, now if yougo up the foot of the hill to the east, the first big bushy tree yousee, you will find it stuck thick with spears. You can have them allif you like. But, " I added, "it's just suppertime now, you had betterhave supper first. " "Oh no, " he said, "I'll go and get them at once ifyou think they are there, " and away he went. I was expecting the enemyto return, and we had all our firearms in readiness alongside of us onthe tarpaulin where we sat down to supper. I had a cartridge-pouchfull of cartridges close to my tin plate, and my rifle lay alongsidealso. Jimmy Fitz, Perkins, Billy the black boy, and I, had just begunto eat when we heard a shot from Verney's revolver. I did not takevery much notice, as he was always firing at wallaby, or birds, oranything; but on another shot following we all jumped up, and rantowards him. As we did so we heard Verney calling and firing again;Perkins seized my cartridge pouch in his excitement, and I had to getmore cartridges from my saddle. In the meantime shots were going off, howls and yells rent the air, and when I got up the enemy had justformed in line. Another discharge decided the conflict, and drove themoff. 

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 ofthose weapons he should choose, being on the west side of the bush, hesuddenly found himself surrounded by a host of stealthy wretches, mostof whom were already armed, all running down towards the camp. Someran to this bush for their weapons, and were in the act of rushingdown on to the camp, and would have speared us as we sat at supper, attheir ease, from behind the thick fig-trees' shelter. Verney was soastounded at seeing them, and they were so astounded at seeing him, that it completely upset their tactics; for they naturally thought wewere all there, and when Verney fired, it so far checked the advancecolumn, that they paused for a second, while the rear guard ran up. Then some from behind threw spears through the bush at Verney. Hefired again, and called to us, and we arrived in time to send theenemy off, as fast as, if not faster, than they had come. It was avery singular circumstance that turned these wretches away; if Verneyhadn't gone for the spears, they could have sneaked upon, and killedus, without any chance of our escape. We must have risen a good dealin their estimation as strategists, for they were fairlyout-generalled by chance, while they must have thought it was design. After the dispersion, they reappeared on the top of the rocks somedistance away, and threw spears down; but they were too far off; andwhen we let them see how far our rifle bullets could be sent, theygave several parting howls and disappeared. 

I decided to keep watch to-night; there was a star passing themeridian 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 atthe time just mentioned, I was seated cross-legged on my rugs facingthe north, taking my observation with the sextant and artificialhorizon, when I thought I saw something faintly quivering at thecorner of my left eye. I kept the sextant still elevated, and turnedmy 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 creekchannel, and ranging themselves in lines. It was a very dusky, cloudy, but moonlight night. I dared not make any quick movement, but slowlywithdrawing my right hand from the sextant, I took hold of my riflewhich lay close alongside. A second of time was of the greatestimportance, for the enemy were all ranged, and just ready balancingtheir spears, and in another instant there would have been a hundredspears thrown into the camp. I suddenly put down the sextant, andhaving the rifle almost in position, I grabbed it suddenly with myleft hand and fired into the thickest mob, whereupon a horriblehowling filled the midnight air. Seizing Verney's rifle that was closeby, I fired it and dispersed the foe. All the party were lying fastasleep on the tarpaulin, but my two shots quickly awoke them. I madethem watch in turns till morning, with orders to fire two riflecartridges every half hour, and the agony of suspense in waiting tohear these go off, kept me awake the whole night, like Carlyle and hisneighbours' fowls. 

Our foes did not again appear. At the first dawn of light, over atsome rocky hills south-westward, where, during the night, we saw theircamp fires, a direful moaning chant arose. It was wafted on the hotmorning air across the valley, echoed again by the rocks and hillsabove us, and was the most dreadful sound I think I ever heard; it wasno doubt a death-wail. From their camp up in the rocks, the chantersdescended to the lower ground, and seemed to be performing a funerealmarch all round the central mass, as the last tones we heard were frombehind the hills, where it first arose. 

To resume: we left the almost exhausted channel of the Ferdinand, andpushed on for the Telegraph Line. In the sandhills and scrub we cameupon an open bit of country, in latitude 27 degrees 35' 34", and founda shallow well, at which we encamped on the evening of August 11th. Insixty miles farther, going nearly east by north, the nature of thecountry entirely altered; the scrubs fell off, and an open stonycountry, 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 thislatitude. I turned more northerly for a waterhole in the Alberga, called Appatinna, but we found it quite dry. There were two decrepitold native women, probably left there to starve and die by theirtribe. I gave them some food and water, but they were almost too fargone to eat. From thence, travelling south-easterly, we came upon theNeale's River, in forty miles. At twenty miles farther down theNeale's, which was quite dry as far as we travelled on it, goingeasterly, we arrived at Mount O'Halloran, a low hill round whose basethe Trans-Continental Telegraph Line and road sweeps, at what iscalled the Angle Pole, sixty miles from the Peake Telegraph Station. We were very short of water, and could not find any, the country beingin a very dry state. We pushed on, and crossed the stony channel of awatercourse called the St. Cecilia, which was also dry. The next waterthat I knew of, between us and the Peake, was a spring near Hann'sCreek, about thirty miles from the Peake. However, on reaching Hann'sCreek, we found sufficient water for our requirements, although it wasrather brackish. Moving on again we reached the Peake TelegraphStation on the 23rd of August, and were most cordially received andwelcomed 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 afew days before we left for Adelaide; nothing remarkable occurred onthe road down. At Beltana the camels were returned to their depot. TheBlinman Copper Mine is about thirty miles from there, and was then, the terminus of the mail coach line from Adelaide. The residents ofthe Blinman invited Alec Ross and myself to a dinner, presided over bymy very good friend Mr. J. B. Buttfield, the Resident PoliceMagistrate. Then we all took the mail coach, and reached theBurra-Burra Copper Mines, on the evening of the next day. Here abanquet was held in our honour, at which a number of ladies attended, and I was presented with a very handsome address. The Burra Mines area hundred miles from Adelaide. 

Next day we took the train for the city. At the town of Gawler, or, asit used to be called, Gawlertown, twenty-five miles from themetropolis, a number of gentlemen were assembled to welcome us on theplatform. Our healths were drank in champagne, and an addresspresented to me. Pursuing our journey, Adelaide was reached by midday. A number of people were waiting the arrival of the train, and when wealighted we were welcomed with cheers. Carriages were in attendance totake us to the Town Hall, where we were welcomed by Caleb Peacock, Esquire, the Mayor, --who first invited us to refreshments, and thenpresented us to the citizens, who were crowded in the large hall. Mr. Peacock made a very eloquent and eulogistic speech, and presented mewith 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 greatfamily of civilised mankind; and if I have any readers who havefollowed my story throughout its five separate phases, I may accountmyself fortunate indeed. A long array of tautological detail isinseparable from the records of Australian, as well as any otherexploration, because it must be remembered that others, who comeafter, must be guided by the experiences and led to places, andwaters, that the first traveller discovers; and am I to be blamed if Ihave occasionally mixed up my narrative with an odd remark, anecdote, or imaginative idea? These, I trust, will not in my reader's opiniondetract from any merits it may possess. I have collected manythousands of plants and hundreds of entomological and geologicalspecimens; a great portion of the list of the former and all of thelatter have unfortunately been lost, only a list of plants collectedduring my first and second expeditions now remains, which appears atthe end of these volumes. 

It is with regret I have had to record the existence of such largeareas of desert land encountered in my travels in Australia. Theemigrant, however, need have no fear on that account. The scenes ofhis avocations will be far removed from them. They are no more a checkto emigration now than fifty years ago. As a final remark, I may saymy former companion in the field, Mr. W. H. Tietkens, has just returnedfrom a fresh exploration of the country in the vicinity of LakeAmadeus, and the report of his travels should be looked forward towith pleasure by all who take any interest in our Colonialdependencies. 

If my narrative has no other recommendation, it may at least serve towhile 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 hopedto reap the good opinion of the world, but for what I have done, andthat I have recorded. Any one who is sufficiently interested to readthese pages, may well understand the trials and dangers that havebeset my path. The number of miles of previously unknown country thatI have explored reaches to the sum of many thousands. The time Iexpended was five of the best years of my life. As a recognition of mylabours, I have received the Patron's Gold Medal of the RoyalGeographical Society of London; and the late King Victor Emanuel sentme a decoration and diploma of Knighthood, of the Order of the Crownof Italy. 

To a man accustomed to camels for exploration, the beautiful horsesinks into the insignificance of a pigmy when compared to his majesticrival, the mighty ship of the desert, and assuredly had it not beenfor these creatures and their marvellous powers, I never could haveperformed the three last journeys which complete my publicexplorations in Australia. 

I have called my book The Romance of Exploration; the romance is inthe chivalry of the achievement of difficult and dangerous, if notalmost impossible, tasks. Should I again be called on to enter theField of Discovery, although to scenes remote from my formerAustralian sphere, I should not be the explorer I have representedmyself in these pages, if, even remembering the perils of my formeradventures, I should shrink from facing new. An explorer is anexplorer 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 noware wanting, to fill the volume up; and though I shall not attempt torank myself amongst the first or greatest, yet I think I have reasonto call myself, the last of the Australian explorers. 

As a last remark, I may say the following lines may convey some of myreal 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 God'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. 

***

APPENDIX. 

APPENDIX. 

LIST OF PLANTS

COLLECTED BY ERNEST GILES, F. R. G. S. , DURING HIS FIRST AND SECOND EXPLORING EXPEDITIONS, 1872-1874. 

(ARRANGED BY BARON VON MUELLER. )

[Further arranged according to Flora of South Australia, Author:J. M. Black and Supplement (1965). ]

DILLENIACEAE:

Hibbertia glaberrima, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 1. Mount Olga, Glen of Palms. 

[Brassicaceae =] CRUCIFERAE:

Menkea sphaerocarpa, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 223. Near Mount Olga. [Lepidium oxytrichum] Lepidium papillosum, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 370. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Lepidium rotundum] Lepidium phlebopetalum, F. M. , Plants of Vict. 1, 47. Between the River Finke and Lake Eyre. [Blennodia trisecta] Sisymbrium trisectum, F. M. , Transact. Vict. Inst. 1, 114. Near Lake Eyre and Mount Olga. 

[Capparidaceae] CAPPARIDEAE:

Cleome viscosa, L. Sp. Pl. , 938. Rawlinson's Range. [Capparis mitchellii] Capparis Mitchelli, Lindl. In Mitch. Three Exped. 1, 315. MacDonnell's Range, Mount Udor. 

[Pittosporaceae] PITTOSPOREAE:

Pittosporum phillyroides, Cand. Prodr. 1, 347. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, also on Gosse's Range. 

DROSERACEAE:

[Drosera indica] Drosera Indici, L. Sp. , 403. Rawlinson's Range. [?] Drosera Burmanni, Vahl. , Symb. 3, 50. MacDonnell's Range. 

[Polygalaceae] POLYGALEAE:

[?] Comesperma silvestre, Lindl. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 342. Between MacDonnell's and Gill's Ranges. 

VIOLACEAE:

[?] Ionidium aurantiacum, F. M. In Benth. Fl. Austr. 1, 102. MacDonnell's Range. 

GERANIACEAE:

Oxalis corniculata L. Sp. , 624. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. 

TILIACEAE:

[?] Corchorus sidoides, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 9. MacDonnell's Range. 

MALVACEAE:

Hibiscus Farragei, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 241. MacDonnell's Range. Hibiscus Sturtii, Hook. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 363. Rawlinson's Range. [Hibiscus brachychlaenus] Hibiscus microchlaenus, F. M. , Fragm. 2, 116. Rawlinson's Range. [Gossypium sturtianum] Gossypium Sturtii, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 6. On Mount Olga, also towards the Alberga, Gosse's Range, and MacDonnell's Range. [?] Abutilon diplotrichum, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 380. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke. Abutilon halophilum, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 381. Near Lake Eyre. Sida cardiophylla, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 242. Rawlinson's Range. [Sida platycalyx] Sida inclusa, Benth. , Flor. Austr. 1, 197. Rawlinson's Range, MacDonnell's Range. Sida cryphiopetala, F. M. , Fragm. 2, 4. MacDonnell's Range. Sida virgata, Hook. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 361. Mount Olga. Sida petrophila, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 381. MacDonnell's Range. [Sida trichopoda] Sida corrugata, Lindl. In Mitch. Three Exped. 2, 13. Lake Eyre, Mount Olga, Gosse's Range, MacDonnell's Range, Lake Amadeus. Malvastrum spicatum, As. Gr. Plant Fendl. , 23. Near Lake Eyre. Plagianthus glomeratus, Benth. In Journ. Of Linn. Soc. 6, 103. Near Lake Eyre. 

STERCULIACEAE:

[?] Keraudrenia nephrosperma, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 1, 246. Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. [?] Keraudrenia Hookeriana, Walp. Annal. 2, 164. MacDonnell's Range. Rulingia magniflora F. M. , Fragm. 8, 223. Mount Olga. [?] Rulingia loxophylla, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 68. MacDonnell's Range. Brachychiton Gregorii, F. M. In Hook. Kew Mis. 9, 199. Mount Stevenson, MacDonnell's Range, Carmichael's Creek, Mount Udor. The specific position, in the absence of flowers and fruit, not to be ascertained beyond doubts from the material secured. 

FRANKENIACAE:

Frankenia pauciflora, Cand. Prodr. 1, 350. Lake Eyre, River Finke. 

[Zygophyllaceae] ZYGOPHYLLEAE:

Tribulus terrestris, L. Sp. , 554. Rawlinson's Range. Tribulus Hystrix, R. Br. , App. To Sturt's Centr. Austr. , 6. Near Lake Amadeus. [Zygophyllum aurantiacum] Zygophyllum fruticulosum, Cand. Prodr. 1, 705. Near Lake Eyre. 

SAPINDACEAE:

Atalaya hemiglauca, F. M. In Benth. Fl. Austr 1, 463. MacDonnell's Range and Lake Amadeus. Dodonaea viscosa, L. Mantiss. , 231 Alberga, Mount Olga, Rawlinson's Range, Barrow's Range, D. Microzyga, F. M. , Plants of Stuart's Exped. , 1862. Page 12, is known from the Neale River. [?] Diplopeltis Stuartii, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 12. MacDonnell's Range. 

[Phytolaccaceae] PHYTOLACCEAE:

Codonocarpus cotinifolius, F. M. , Plants of Vict. 1, 200. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Gyrostemon ramulosus, Desf. In Mem. Du Mus. 6, 17, t. 6. Glen of Palms. [Gyrostemon australasicus] Cyclotheca Australasica, Mog. In Cand. Prodr. 13, Sect. 2, 38. Mount Olga, Rawlinson's Range, Barrow's Range. 

[Caryophyllaceae] CARYOPHYLLEAE:

Polycarpaea corymbosa, Lam. 3, N. , 2798. Glen of Palms. 

[Aizoaceae] FICOIDEAE:

Trianthema crystallina, Vahl. , Symb. 1, 32. Near Lake Eyre. Aizoon zygophylloides, F. M. , Fragm. 7, 129. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke. 

[Portulacaceae] PORTULACEAE:

[Calandrinia balonensis] Calandrinia Balonnensis, Lindl. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 148. MacDonnell's Range. Portulaca oleracea, L. Sp. Pl. , 638. Towards MacDonnell's Range. 

[Chenopodiaceae] SALSOLACEAE:

Rhagodia nutans, R. Br. , Prodr. , 408. Lake Eyre. Rhagodia spinescens, R. Br. , Prodr. , 408. Lake Eyre. Chenopodium carinatum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 407. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Babbagia dipterocarpa, F. M. , Rep. On Babb. Pl. , 21. Lake Eyre. Kochia villosa, Lindl. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 91. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. 

[Amaranthaceae] AMARANTACEAE:

Hemichroa mesembryanthema, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 38. Lake Eyre. [Amaranthus mitchellii] Euxolus Mitchelli, Amarantus Mitchelli, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 5, 214. Lake Eyre. Alternanthera nodiflora, R. Br. , Prodr. , 417. MacDonnell's Range. Ptilotus obovatus, F. M. , Fragm. 6, 228. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; MacDonnell's and Rawlinson's Ranges. [Ptilotus polystachyus] Ptilotus alopecuroides, F. M. , Fragm. 6, 227. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Ptilotus nobilis, F. M. , Fragm. 6, 227. Mount Olga. Ptilotus Hoodii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 232. Mount Olga. Ptilotus helipteroides, F. M. , Fragm. 6, 231. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; also Barrow's Range. [Ptilotus gaudichaudii] Ptilotus hemisteirus, F. M. , Fragm. 6, 231. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. 

[Nyctaginaceae] NYCTAGINEAE:

[Boerhavia repanda] Boerhaavia repanda, Willd. , Sp. Pl. , 1, 22. Lake Eyre. [Boerhavia diffusa] Boerhaavia diffusa, L. Sp. Pl. , 4. Lake Amadeus. 

[not a family] LEGUMINOSAE:

[Fabaceae (=Papilionaceae)]

Daviesia arthropoda, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 225. Mount Olga. Brachysema Chambersii, F. M. In Benth. Fl. Austr. 2, 13. Mount Olga; MacDonnell's Range. Isotropis atropurpurea, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 16. Mount Olga. [?] Burtonia polyzyga, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 2, 51. MacDonnell's Range. [?] Mirbelia oxyclada, F. M. , Fragm. 4, 12. MacDonnell's and Rawlinson's Ranges. Gastrolobium grandiflorum, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 17. Glen of Palms. Psoralea patens, Lindl. In Mitch. Three Exped. 2, 9. Between Lake Eyre and Mount Olga. P. Balsamica is known from MacDonnell's Range. [Crotalaria cunninghamii] Crotalaria Cunninghami, R. Br. , App. ToSturt's Exped. , 8. Rawlinson's Range. Crotalaria dissitiflora, Benth. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. 386. Lake Eyre. [Clianthus dampieri] Clianthus Dampierii, A. Cunn. In Trans. Hort. Soc. Lond. , Sec. Ser. 1, 522. Mount Whitby. Swainsona phacoides, Benth. In Mitch. Trop. Aust. , 363. MacDonnell's Range. Swainsona unifoliolata, F. M. , Fragm. , 8, 226. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; also on Rawlinson's Range. Several other species of Swainsona, but in an imperfect state, occur in the collection, also a species of Tephrosia. Lotus Australis, Andr. , Bot. Reg. , t. 624. Lake Eyre. [?] Caulinia prorepens, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 225. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [?] Indigofera monophylla, Cand. Prodr. 2, 222. MacDonnell's Range. Indigofera brevidens, Benth. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 385. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke; also Glen of Palms, MacDonnell's Range, Rawlinson's Range, between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. (I. Villosa is also known from MacDonnell's Range. )Erythrina Vespertilio, Benth. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 218. MacDonnell's Range, Mount Udor. 

[Caesalpiniaceae]

[?] Bauhinia Leichhardtii, F. M. In Transact. Vict. Inst. 3, 50. Occurs also in many of the central regions of the continent. Cassia notabilis, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 28. Mount Olga, Rawlinson's Range. Cassia venusta, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 165. MacDonnell's Range. Cassia pleurocarpa, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 223. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke; also between the Alberga and Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. Cassia desolata, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 389. Mount Olga, Rawlinson's Range. Cassia artemisioides, Gaud. In Cand. Prodr. 2, 495. From the Alberga to Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. Petalostylis labicheoides, R. Br. , App. To Sturt's Centr. Austr. , 17. Glen of Palms; between the Alberga and Mount Olga, and towards Barrow's Range. 

[Mimosaceae]

[Acacia victoriae] Acacia Sentis, F. M. In Journ. Linn. Soc. 3, 128. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [Acacia maitlandii] Acacia patens, F. M. In Journ. Linn. Soc. 3, 120. Mount Olga and MacDonnell's Range. [?] Acacia spondylophylla, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 243. Glen of Palms; MacDonnell's and Rawlinson's Ranges. [?] Acacia lycopodifolia, A. Cunn. In Hook. Icon. , 172. MacDonnell's Range. [?] Acacia minutifolia, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 243. Mount Olga. Acacia strongylophylla, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 226. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, Glen of Palms, MacDonnell's Range. Acacia salicina, Lindl. In Mitch. Three Exped. 2, 20. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range; also towards Lake Amadeus and Barrow's Range. Acacia aneura, F. M. In Linnaea 26, 627. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. 

Numerous other species of Acacia were gathered, but not found inflower or fruit, hence are not with certainty referable to the respectivespecies of this great genus. 

EUPHORBIACEAE:

[?] Adriana tomentosa, Gaud. In Ann. Sc. Nat. , Prem. Ser. 6, 223. From the Alberga to Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range, Barrow's Range. [Euphorbia drummondii] Euphorbia Drummondi, Boiss. , Cent. Euph. , 14. Finke's River. [Euphorbia clutioides] Euphorbia eremophila, A. Cunn. In Mitch. Austr. , 348. Lake Eyre; MacDonnell's Range. 

[Urticaceae] URTICEAE:

Ficus platypoda, A. Cunn. In Hook. Lond. Journ. 6, 561. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, Ayers Range, Gill's Range. [?] Ficus orbicularis, A. Cunn. In Hook. Lond. Journ. 7, 426. Glen of Palms. Parietaria debilis, G. Forst. , Prodr. , 73. Mount Olga. 

RHAMNACEAE:

Spyridium spathulatum, F. M. In Benth. Fl. Austr. 1, 430. Glen of Palms. 

MYRTACEAE:

[Calytrix longiflora] Calycothrix longiflora, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 12. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; MacDonnell's Range. Thryptomene Maisonneuvii, F. M. , Fragm. 4, 64. On Mount Olga, also towards the Alberga. [Micromyrtus flaviflora] Thryptomene flaviflora, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 13. MacDonnell's Range. [?] Baeckea polystemonea, F. M. , Fragm. 2, 124. MacDonnell's Range. Eucalyptus pachyphylla, F. M. In Journ. Linn. Soc. 3, 98. Glen of Palms. 

STACKHOUSIACEAE:

Macgregoria racemigera, F. M. In Caruel's Giorn. , 1873, page 129. MacDonnell's Range; between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [?] Stackhousia megaloptera, FM. , Fragm. 8, 35. MacDonnell's Range. 

CUCURBITACEAE:

[Melothria maderaspatana] Mukia scabrella, Arn. In Hook. Journ. 3, 276. Rawlinson's Range. [Cucumis melo] Cucumis trigonus, Roxb. , Flor. Indic. 3, 722. MacDonnell's Range. 

LORANTHACEAE:

[Lysiana exocarpi] Loranthus Exocarpi, Behr in Linn. 20, 624. Musgrave Range. 

SANTALACEAE:

Santalum lanceolatum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 256. Mount Olga, Rawlinson's Range, Lake Amadeus. Santalum acuminatum, A. De Cand. Prodr. 14, 684. Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range, Mount Udor, Lake Amadeus, Musgrave Range, Fort Mueller, Petermann's Range. [Anthobolus leptomerioides] Anthobolus exocarpoides, F. M. , Fragm. 9, ined. MacDonnell's Range. 

PROTEACEAE:

[Hakea francisiana] Hakea multilineata, Meissn. In Lehm. Pl. Preiss. 2, 261. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Hakea suburea] Hakea lorea, R. Br. , Prot. Nov. , 25. Glen of Palms, MacDonnell's, Petermann's, and Rawlinson's Ranges. Grevillea stenobotrya F. M. , Fragm. 9, ined. MacDonnell's Range. Grevillea juncifolia, Hook. In Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 341. Glen of Palms, MacDonnell's Range, Mount Olga, and towards the Alberga. Grevillea pterosperma, F. M. In Trans. Phil. Soc. Vict. 1, 22. Mount Olga. [?] Grevillea Wickhami, Meissn. In Cand. Prodr. 14, 380. Glen of Palms, Gosse's Range, MacDonnell's Range; towards Lake Amadeus. 

[Thymelaeaceae] THYMELEAE:

Pimelea trichostachya, Lindl. In Mitch. Trop, Austr. , 355. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, Gosse's Range. Pimelea ammocharis, F. M. In Hook. Kew Misc. 9, 24. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. 

[Apiaceae =] UMBELLIFERAE:

[Trachymene glaucifolia] Didiscus glaucifolius, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 395. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Hydrocotyle trachycarpa, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 394. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. 

RUBIACEAE:

Pomax umbellata, Soland. In Gaertn. Fruct. 1, 112. MacDonnell's Range. [Canthium latifolium] Plectronia latifolia, Benth. Et Hook. Gen. Pl. 2, 110. MacDonnell's Range. 

[Asteraceae =] COMPOSITAE:

[?] Aster subspicatus, F. M. , Fragm. 5, 68. MacDonnell's Range. [Aster stuartii] Aster megalodontus, F. M. , Fragm. 8, ined. Mount Olga. [?] Aster Ferresii, F. M. , Fragm. 5, 75. MacDonnell's Range. Calotis lappulacea, Benth. In Hueg. Enum. , 60. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Pluchea rubelliflora] Pluchea Eyrea, F. M. , Rep. On Babb. Pl. , 2. Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. [?] Minuria leptophylla, Cand. Prodr. 5, 298. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke, thence to Mount Olga and Lake Amadeus. Flaveria Australasica, Hook. , in Mitch. Trop. Austr. , 118. Lake Eyre. [Gnephosis skirrophora] Gnephosis codonopappa, F. M. , Fragm. 9, ined. Beyond Lake Eyre. Angianthus tomentosus, Wendl. Coll. 2, 31, t. 48. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [Calocephalus multiflorus] Calocephalus platycephalus, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 3, 576. MacDonnell's Range. Myriocephalus Stuartii, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 3, 560. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Pterocaulon sphacelatum] Pterocaulon sphacelatus, Benth. Et Hook. , Gen. Pl. 2, 295. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, also on Rawlinson's Range. Ixiolaena tomentosa, Sond. Et Muell. In Linnaea 25, 504. Lake Eyre. [?] Helichrysum Thomsoni, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 45. MacDonnell's Range, Mount Olga. Helichrysum Ayersii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 167. Mount Olga. Helichrysum semifertile, F. M. , Rep. On Babb. Plants, page 14. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Helichrysum davenportii] Helichrysum Davenporti, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 32. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Helichrysum Cassinianum, Gaud. In Freyc. Voy. Bot. , 466, t. 87. MacDonnell's Range; also between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [?] Helichrysum lucidum, Henck. Adumb. Ann. , 1806. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, Glen of Palms, Rawlinson's Range. Helichrysum apiculatum, Cand. Prodr. 6, 195. Rawlinson's Range. Helichrysum rutidolepsis, Cand. Prodr. 6, 194. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Helipterum stuartianum] Helipterum floribundum, Cand. Prodr. 6, 217. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Helipterum Tietkensii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 227. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Helipterum albicans] Helipterum incanum, Cand. Prodr. 6, 215. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Helipterum stipitatum, F. M. In Benth. Fl. Austr. 3, 643. MacDonnell's Range. Helipterum Charsleyae, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 168. Lake Amadeus. Gnaphalium luteo-album, L. Sp. Pl. , 1196. Mount Olga. Gnaphalium Japonicum, Thunb. , Fl. Jap. , 311. Mount Olga. Senecio Gregorii, F. M. In Greg. Rep. On Leich. Search, page 7. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. Senecio lautus, G. Forst. , Prodr. , 91. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Senecio magnificus, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 418. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Erechtites runcinifolius] Erechtites picridioides, Turcz. In Bull. DeMosc. , 1851, part 1, 200. Mount Olga. Sonchus oleraceus, Linne, Sp. Pl. , 1116. Mr. Giles records this in his journal as abundant on the banks of the Finke River, towards its source. 

CAMPANULACEAE:

[?] Wahlenbergia gracilis, A. De Cand. Monogr. Des Camp. , 142. Mount Olga, Barrow's Range, Lake Amadeus. [?] Lobelia heterophylla, Labill. Specim. 1, 52, t. 74. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. Isotoma petraea, F. M, in Linnaea 25, 420. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. 

[Goodeniaceae] GOODENOVIACEAE:

[Brunoniaceae]

Brunonia Australis, Sm. In Transact. Linn. Soc. 10, 367, t. 28. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. 

[Goodeniaceae]

[?] Goodenia Vilmoriniae, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 19, t. 16. Mount Olga. Goodenia heterochila, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 142. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [?] Goodenia Mueckeana, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 56. Between Mount Udor and Gill's Range, also on or near Mount Olga. Goodenia Ramelii, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 20 t. 17. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; also on Rawlinson's Range and towards Barrow's Range. Leschenaultia divaricata, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 33. Lake Amadeus. [?] Leschenaultia striata, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 245. Mount Olga. [Catosperma goodeniaceum] Catosperma Muelleri, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 4, 83. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Scaevola collaris, F. M. , Rep. On Babb. Plants, 15. Lake Eyre. Scaevola spinescens, R. Br. , Prodr. , 568. Lake Eyre. Scaevola depauperata, R. Br. , Append. To Sturt's Centr. Austr. , 20. MacDonnell's Range. [Velleia connata] Velleya connata, F. M. In Hook. Kew Misc. 8, 162. MacDonnell's Range. 

[Stylidaceae] STYLIDEAE:

[?] Stylidium floribundum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 569. MacDonnell's Range. 

[Boraginaceae] ASPERIFOLIAE:

[?] Heliotropium asperrimum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 493. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, MacDonnell's Range. Heliotropium undulatum, Vahl. , Sym. 1, 13. Near Lake Eyre. [Cynoglossum australe] Cynoglossum Drummondi, Benth. , Fl. Austr. 4, 409. On Mount Olga and towards the Alberga. [Trichodesma zeylanicum] Trichodesma Zeilanicum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 496. From the Alberga to Mount Olga and MacDonnell's Range. [?] Halgania anagalloides, Endl. In Ann. Des Wien. Mus. 2, 204. MacDonnell's Range. Halgania cyanea, Lindl. Bot. Reg. 25, App. , 40. MacDonnell's and Petermann's Ranges. 

[Lamiaceae =] LABIATIAE:

Plectranthus parviflorus, Henck. Adumb. , 1806. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [?] Microcorys Macredieana, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 231. Rawlinson's Range. Prostanthera striatiflora, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 425. From the Alberga to Mount Olga; also on Gosse's Range and MacDonnell's Range. Prostanthera Wilkieana, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 230. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. Teucrium racemosum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 504. Lake Eyre, Lake Amadeus, Finke River. 

VERBENACEAE:

[Newcastelia bracteosa] Newcastlia bracteosa, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 49. MacDonnell's Range; between Mount Olga and Warburton's Range; Gill's Range. [Newcastelia cephalantha] Newcastlia cephalantha, F. M. , Fragm. 9, ined. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Newcastelia spodiotricha] Newcastlia spodiotricha, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 21, t. 21. MacDonnell's and Rawlinson's Ranges. [Dicrastylis doranii] Dicrastylis Dorani, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 230. Rawlinson's Range. [Dicrastylis exsuccosa] Dicrastylis ochrotricha, F. M. , Fragm. 4, 161. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. Dicrastylis Beveridgei, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 50. Between Mount Udor and Gill's Range, also on Mount Olga. Dicrastylis Gilesii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 229. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; Glen of Palms. [Dicrastylis lewellinii] Chloanthes Lewellini, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 50. Mount Olga; MacDonnell's Range. 

[Myoporaceae] MYOPORINAE:

[Eremophila macdonnellii] Eremophila Macdonnelli, F. M. , Rep. OnBabb. Plants, 18. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke. Eremophila Willsii, F. M. , Fragm. 3, 21, t. 20. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; Rawlinson's Range. [Eremophila gilesii] Eremophila Berryi, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 228. Musgrave Range. [Eremophila goodwinii] Eremophila Goodwini, F. M. , Rep. On Babb. Plants, 17. Beyond Lake Eyre, Glen of Palms, MacDonnell's Range. Eremophila maculata, F. M. In Papers of the Roy. Soc. Of Tasm. 3, 297. Lake Eyre. [Eremophila glabra] Eremophila Brownii, F. M. In Papers of the Roy. Soc. Of Tasm. 3, 297. MacDonnell's Range. Eremophila Sturtii, R. Br. , App. To Sturt's Centr. Austr. , 85. MacDonnell's Range. Eremophila Gilesii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 49. MacDonnell's Range. Eremophila longifolia, F. M. In Papers of the Roy. Soc. Of Tasm. 3, 295. Gosse's Range; MacDonnell's Range. [Eremophila serrulata] Eremophila latifolia, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 428. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Eremophila alternifolia, R. Br. , Prodr. , 518. Mount Olga. Eremophila Latrobei, F. M. In Papers of the Roy. Soc. Of Tasm. 3, 294. Mount Olga; Rawlinson's Range; MacDonnell's Range. Eremophila Elderi, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 228. Rawlinson's Range. [?] Eremophila Hughesii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 228. Rawlinson's Range. [Eremophila gibsonii] Eremophila Gibsoni, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 227. Between Mount Olga and the Alberga. Eremophila scoparia, F. M. In Papers of the Roy. Soc. Of Tasm. 3, 296. About Lake Eyre. [Myoporum montanum] Myoporum Cunninghami, Benth. In Hueg. Enum. , 78. Glen of Palms. 

[Oleaceae] JASMINEAE:

Jasminum lineare, R. Br. , Prodr. , 521. MacDonnell's Range; Gosse's Range. [?] Jasminum calcareum, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 212. MacDonnell's Range. 

CONVOLVULACEAE:

Convolvulus erubescens, Sims, Bot. Mag. , t. 1067. MacDonnell's Range. Evolvulus linifolius, L. Sp. Pl. , 392. MacDonnell's Range. [Bonamia rosea] Breweria rosea, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 233. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga, Glen of Palms, MacDonnell's Range. 

BIGNONIACEAE:

[Pandorea doratoxylon] Tecoma Australis, R. Br. , Prodr. , 471. Mount Olga, Rawlinson's Range. 

[Asclepiadaceae] ASCLEPIADEAE:

Sarcostemma Australe, R. Br. , Prodr. , 463. Rawlinson's Range. [Leichhardtia australis] Marsdenia Leichhardtiana, F. M. , Fragm. 5, 160. MacDonnell's Range. 

ACANTHACEAE:

[Rostellularia pogonanthera] Justicia procumbens, L. Fl. Zeil. , 19. Mount Olga and towards Lake Eyre. 

[Gentianaceae] GENTIANEAE:

[Centurium spicatum] Erythraea Australis, R. Br. , Prodr. , 451. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range, MacDonnell's Range. 

[Schrophulariaceae] SCROPHULARINAE:

Mimulus gracilis, R. Br. , Prodr. , 439. Rawlinson's Range. Stemodia viscosa, Roxb. , Pl. Coromand. 2, 33, t. 163. Rawlinson's Range. [?] Stemodia pedicellaris, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 231. Rawlinson's Range. 

SOLANACEAE:

Anthotroche Blackii, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 232. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [?] Anthocercis Hopwoodii, F. M. , Frag. 2, 138. Near Mount Liebig. Nicotiana suaveolens, Lehm. , Hist. Nicot. , 43. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; Glen of Palms; Lake Amadeus. Solanum esuriale, Lindl. In Mitch. Three Exped. 2, 43. Lake Eyre; thence to MacDonnell's Range. Solanum ferocissimum, Lindl. In Mitch. Three Exped. 2, 58. MacDonnell's Range. Solanum ellipticum, R. Br. , Prodr. , 446. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; thence to Barrow's Range, MacDonnell's Range. Solanum petrophilum, F. M. In Linnaea 25, 433. Mount Olga. Solanum lacunarium, F. M. In Trans. Phil. Soc. Vict. 1, 18. Lake Eyre. [Datura leichhardtii] Datura Leichhardti, F. M. In Trans. Phil. Soc. Vict. 1, 20. Between the River Finke and the Glen of Palms. 

PRIMULACEAE:

Samolus repens, Pers. Synops. 1, 171. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. 

[Casuarinaceae] CASUARINEAE:

Casuarina Decaisneana, F. M. , Fragm. 1, 61. From the Alberga and Finke River to Mount Olga; Gardiner's and MacDonnell's Ranges; Glen of Palms; also near Musgrave's Range and on Rawlinson's, Petermann's, and Barrow's Ranges; Gibson's Desert. 

[?] CYCADEAE:

[?] Encephalartos Macdonnelli, F. M. In Vers. Akad. Wet. Amsterdam, 15, 376. On Neale's River, found by J. M. Stuart, and probably the same species on Gill's Range. 

[Cupressaceae] CONIFERAE:

Callitris verrucosa, R. Br. In Memoir. Du Mus. Paris 13, 74. It is supposed that it is this species, which was seen on the River Finke, Lake Amadeus, and in the MacDonnell's, Gill's, Rampart's, Musgrave's and Gosse's Ranges, as it is the only one hitherto recorded from Central Australian collections. 

LILIACEAE:

[?] Thysanotus sparteus, R. Br. , Prodr. , 283. Between Mount Olga and Barrow's Range. [?] Anguillaria Australis, F. M. Fragm. 7, 74. Between Lake Eyre and the River Finke. A species of Xanthorrhoea, reaching a height of twelve feet, was seen on the ranges along Rudall's Creek, but no specimen for examination was secured. 

[?] PALMAE:

[?] Livistona Mariae, F. M. , Fragm. 9, ined. Glen of Palms. Height up to 60 feet. 

TYPHACEAE:

Typha Muelleri, Rohrb. In Verhandl. Brandenb. , 1869, page 95. It is probably this species which is recorded in the Journal as occurring in the swamps of Rawlinson's Range. 

[Poaceae =] GRAMINEAE:

[?] Andropogon laniger, Desf. , Fl. Atlant. 2, 379. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Eriachne scleranthoides, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 233. Mount Olga. [?] Pappophorum commune, F. M. In Greg. Rep. On Leichh. Search, App. , page 10. MacDonnell's Range. [?] Panicum Pseudo-Neurachne, F. M. , Fragm. 8, 199. Lake Amadeus. [?] Eleusine cruciata, Lam. Encyc. , t. 48, f. 2. Lake Eyre; between the Alberga and Mount Olga. [Aristida browniana] Aristida stipoides, R. Br. , Prodr. , 174. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Bromus arenarius, Labill. , Specim. 1, 23, t. 28. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Festuca irritans, F. M. , Chath. Isl. Veget. , 59 (Triodia irritans, R. Br. Pr. , 182). Dispersed widely through the deserts, and called Spinifex by the explorers. 

CYPERACEAE:

[?] Cyperus textilis, Thunb. , Prodr. Pl. Cap. , 18. MacDonnell's Range. 

[Class: Pteropsida] FILICES:

[Polypodiaceae]

Cheilanthes tenuifolia, Swartz, Syn. Fil. , 129. Rawlinson's Range; between the Alberga and Mount Olga. Cheilanthes vellea, F. M. , Fragm. 5, 123. Between the Alberga and Mount Olga; also on MacDonnell's Range. C. Reynoldsii, discovered by Mr. Gosse, does not occur in Mr. Giles's collection, and is probably very local. 

Mr. Giles's collection contains also species of the genera Vigna, Tephrosia, Melaleuca, Callistemon, Haloragis, Pterigeron, Brachycome, Dampiera, Ipomoea, Morgania, Enchylaena, andAtriplex; as also additional species of Rulingia, Abutilon, Sida, Dodonaea, Euphorbia, Spyridium, Acacia (many), Eucalyptus, Scaevola, Goodenia, Eremophila, Heliotropium, Rhagodia, Ptilotus, Hakea, and Panicum, but none in a state sufficiently advanced toadmit of ascertaining their precise specific position. 

INDEX. 

Acacia aneura. 

Alberga Creek. 

Alfred and Marie Range. 

Alice Falls, the. 

Alone in the desert. 

Aloysius, Mount. 

An expanse of salt. 

Angle Pole, the. 

Anthony Range. 

Ants and their nests. 

Appatinna. 

Armstrong Creek. 

Arrino. 

Ashburton River. --, head waters. 

Australian grass-tree. 

Ayers's Range. 

Ayers's Rock. 

Bagot's Creek. 

Bark Coolamins. 

Barlee, Mount. 

Barloweerie Peak. 

Bell Rock. 

Berkshire Valley. 

Bitter Water Creek. 

Black family, a. --oak. 

Blood's Range. 

Bluey's Range. 

Boundary Dam. 

Bowes Creek. 

Bowley, Mount. 

Bowman's Dam. 

Brachychiton. 

Bring Lake. 

Briscoe's Pass. 

Butterflies. 

Buttfield, Mount. 

Buzoe's Grave. 

Callitris. 

Camel Glen. 

Camels decamped. -- poisoned. 

Canis familiaris. 

Capparis. 

Carnarvon, Mount. --Range. 

Carmichael Creek. 

Carmichael's Crag. 

Casterton Creek. 

Casuarina Decaisneana. 

Casuarinas. 

Chamber's Pillar. 

Champ de Mars. 

Champion Bay. 

Chandler's Range. 

Charlotte Waters Station. 

Cheangwa. 

Chimpering. 

Chinaman's Dam. 

Chirnside Creek. 

Christening natives. 

Christmas Day. 

Christopher Lake. 

Christopher's Pinnacle. 

Christy Bagot's Creek. 

Churchman, Mount. 

Circus, the. 

Clay crabhole, a. --pans. 

Clianthus Dampierii. 

Cob, the. 

Cockata blacks. 

Codonocarpus cotinifolius. 

Colona. 

Colonel's Range. 

Conner, Mount. 

Cooerminga. 

Coondambo clay-pans. 

Corkwood-tree. 

Corrobboree, a grand. 

Cowra man, a. 

Cudyeh. 

Culham. 

Cumming, Glen. 

Cups, the. 

Curdie, Mount. 

Curious mound-springs. 

Currajong-tree. 

Currie, the. 

Cypress pines. 

Davenport, Mount. 

Desert oak. 

Desolation Creek. --Glen. 

Destruction, Mount. 

Diamond bird (Amadina). 

Docker, The. 

Dog-puppies. 

Dongarra. 

Dry salt lagoons. 

Eagle-hawk. 

Earthquake, a shock. 

Edith, Glen. --Hull's Springs. 

Edith's Marble Bath. 

Edoldeh. 

Ehrenberg Ranges. 

Elder's Creek. 

Elizabeth Watercourse. 

Ellery's Creek. 

Emus. 

Emu Tank. 

Encounter Creek. 

Eremophila scoparia. 

Escape Glen. 

Eucalyptus. --dumosa. 

Euphorbiaceae. 

Euro Bluff. 

Everard Ranges. 

Fagan, Mount. 

Fairies' Glen. 

Ferdinand Creek. --Glen. --Mount. 

Festuca irritans. 

Fielder, Glen. 

Fig-tree. 

Finke, Mount. --River. 

Finniss Springs. 

Fish plentiful. --ponds. 

Flies, myriads of. 

Forrest's Creek. 

Forrest, Mount. 

Fort McKellar. 

Fort Mueller. 

Fowler's Bay. 

Fraser's Wells. 

Fremantle, reception at. 

Friendly natives. 

Fusanus. 

Gardiner's Range. 

Gascoyne River Valley. 

Geelabing, Mount. 

George Gill's Range. 

Gerald, Glen. 

Geraldton. 

Gibson, Last seen of. 

Gibson's Desert. 

Gibson's Christmas pudding. 

Gill's Pinnacle. 

Glen Camel. --Cumming. --Edith. --Ferdinand. --Fielder. --Gerald. --Helen. --Osborne. --of Palms. --Robertson. --Ross. --Thirsty. --Watson. --Wyselaski. 

Glentromie. 

Glowworms. 

Gordon's Springs. 

Gorge of Tarns. 

Gosse's Range. 

Gould, Mount. 

Governor, the. 

Grand Junction Depot. 

Great Gorge. 

Great Victoria Desert. 

Greenough Flats. 

Grevillea-trees. 

Groener's Springs. 

Guildford, reception at. 

Gum-trees. 

Gyrostemon. --ramulosus. 

Hakea. 

Hale, Mount. 

Hamilton Creek. 

Hampton Plain. 

Hann's Creek. 

Harriet's Springs. 

Hector Pass. --Springs. 

Helen, Glen. 

Hermit Hill, the. 

Hogarth's Wells. 

Hopkin's Creek. 

Horses badly bogged. --fall lame. 

Hostility of the natives. 

Hughes's Creek. 

Hull Creek, the. 

Humphries, Mount. 

Inderu. 

Interview with natives. 

Irving Creek. 

Irwin House. 

Irwin River. 

Jamieson's Range. 

James Winter, Mount. 

Jeanie, Mount. 

Johnstone's Range. 

Kangaroos and emus plentiful. 

Kangaroo tanks. 

King's Creek. 

Krichauff Creek. --Range. 

Labouchere, Mount. 

Lake Bring. --Amadeus. --Christopher. --Eyre. --Gairdner. --Hanson. --Hart. --Moore. --of salt. --Torrens. --Wilson. --Younghusband. 

Laurie's Creek. 

Learmonth Park. 

Leguminosae, the. 

Leipoa ocellata. 

Levinger, The. 

Lightning Rock. 

Livingstone Pass. 

Louisa's Creek. 

Lowan or native pheasants. 

Lowans' nests. 

Luehman's Springs. 

Lunar rainbow, a. 

Lyons River. 

MacBain's Springs. 

Mann Range. 

Margaret, Mount. 

Maria, palm. 

Marie, Mount. 

McCulloch, Mount. 

McDonnell Range. 

McMinn's Creek. 

McNicol's Range. 

Melaleuca. 

Melaleuca-tree. 

Middleton's Pass. 

Miller, Mount. 

Mobing. 

Moffat's Creek. 

Moloch horridus. 

Moodilah. 

Mosquitoes. 

Mount Aloysius. --Ayers. --Barlee. --Bowley. --Buttfield. --Camnarvon. --Churchman. --Conner. --Curdie. --Davenport. --Destruction. --Fagan. --Ferdinand. --Finke. --Forrest. --Geelabing. --Gould. --Gould Creek. --Hale. --Humphries. --James Winter. --Jeanie. --Labouchere. --Margaret. --Marie. --McCulloch. --Miller. --Murchison. --Musgrave. --Oberon. --Officer. --O'Halloran. --Olga. --Ormerod. --Peculiar. --Phillips. --Quin. --Robert. --Robinson. --Russell. --Sargood. --Scott. --Skene. --Solitary. --Squires. --Udor. 

Mowling. 

Mulga apple. --tree, its habits and value. --wood as a poison. 

Murchison, Mount. --River. 

Musgrave, Mount. --Range. 

Mus conditor. 

Myal. 

Native art. 

Native attack at Farthest East. --at Fort McKellar. --at Fort Mueller. --and rout at Sladen Water. --at Ularring. --beauty. --caves. --dam, a. --figs. --fires. --gunyahs. --huts; ancient and modern. --interview. --mode of wearing the hair. --orange-tree. --peach. --pheasant's nest. --poplar-trees. --sleeping places. --swords. --thieves. 

Natives troublesome. 

Native well. --wurleys. 

Natta. 

Neale's River. 

Newcastle, reception at. 

New Norcia. 

Nicholls's Fish Ponds. 

Oberon, Mount. 

Officer, the. --, Mount. 

Olga, Mount. 

Ooldabinna. 

Ophthalmia Range. 

Opossums. 

Ormerod, Mount. 

Osborne, Glen. 

Palmer Creek. 

Palms, Glen of. 

Paring. 

Pass of the Abencerrages. 

Peake Creek. --Station. 

Peculiar, Mount. 

Penny's Creek. 

Perth, reception at. 

Pernatty Creek. 

Petermann's Creek. 

Petermann's Range. 

Phillips Creek. --Mount. 

Pia Spring. 

Pidinga. 

Pigeon Rocks. 

Poisoned camels. 

Poison plant. 

Pondoothy Hill. 

Poothraba Hill. 

Port Augusta. 

Purple vetch. 

Pylebung. 

Quandong-trees. 

Queen Victoria's Spring. 

Quin, Mount. 

Range, Petermann's. 

Rawlinson Range. 

Rebecca, The. 

Red gum, the. 

Red hornets. 

Red Ridge Camp. 

Reid Creek. 

Ross, Glen. 

River Irwin. --Finke, general remarks. --Murchison. --Sandford. 

Robert, Mount. 

Robertson, Glen. 

Robinson, Mount. 

Rock wallaby. 

Roger's Pass. 

Roman numerals. 

Ross's Water-hole. 

Rudall's Creek. 

Ruined Rampart, the. 

Russell, Mount. 

St. Cecilia, watercourse. 

Saleh's Fish Ponds. 

Salt bog. --bushes. 

Sandal-wood. 

Sandflies. 

Sandford River. 

Salt lagoons. 

Salt lake, a. 

Sargood, Mount. 

Schwerin Mural Crescent. 

Scorpion, a. 

Scott, Mount. 

Scrub pheasant. --wallaby. 

Sentinel, the. 

Seymour's Range. 

Shaw Creek. 

Shoeing Camp. 

Skene, Mount. 

Sladen Water. 

Snakes. 

Sonchus oleraceus. 

Solitary, Mount. 

Sow thistle. 

Spear-heads of mulga wood. 

Squires, Mount. 

Stemodia viscosa, the. 

Stevenson's Creek. 

Stinking pit, the. 

Stokes's Creek. 

Storm, effect of. 

Surprise the natives. 

Taloreh. 

Tarn of Auber. 

The Circus. 

The Cob. 

The Cups Hill. 

The Officer. 

The Sentinel. 

Thirsty, Glen. 

Thunderstorm. 

Tietkens's Birthday Creek. --Tank. 

Tipperary. 

Titania's Spring. 

Tommy's Flat. 

Tootra. 

Trickett's Creek. 

Triodia or Festuca irritans. 

Troglodytes' Cave. 

Turtle Back Rocks. 

Tyndall's Springs. 

Udor, Mount. 

Ularring. 

Vale of Tempe. 

Verney's Wells. 

Victoria plains. 

Vladimar Pass. 

Walebing. 

Wallaby traps. 

Warlike Natives. 

Water scarce. 

Watson, Glen. 

Weld Pass. 

Whitegin. 

Wild ducks. 

Wild turkey bustards. 

Winter Water. 

Winter's Glen. 

Wommerah, the. 

Worrill's Pass. 

Wynbring. --Rock. 

Wyselaski's Glen. 

Xanthorrhoea. 

Yanderby. 

York, entertained at. 

Youldeh. 

Yuin. 

Zoe's Glen.