Chapter 15

Monday, 28th May, Lagoon North-east of Mount Strzelecki. We could not get a start till 9.15, the horses having strayed to a distant bank for shelter from the wind, which was piercingly cold. I had, in the first instance, to go three miles north-north-west, in order to clear the low stony range that runs on to the east side of the lagoon. I then changed to 22 degrees to the far-distant range. For the first three miles our course was through a very thick mulga scrub, with plenty of grass, and occasionally a little spinifex; it then changed to a slightly undulating country of a reddish soil, with gum and cork-trees, and numerous low sandy plains, much resembling the gum and spinifex plains to the west, where I was twice beaten back. It certainly is a desert country. Camped without water on a little patch of grass. Distance to-day, twenty-eight miles. Wind south-east. Very cold all day.

Tuesday, 29th May, Scrub, Spinifex and Gum-Trees. Started at 8 on the same course for the range, which is still distant, through the same description of country. At seven miles we came upon a plain of long grass, which seems to have been flooded. It is about two miles broad. Between this and the first hill of the range we passed four more of the same description. Distance to the first hill, fourteen miles. In another mile we struck a small creek; searched for water, but could find none, although birds were numerous; thence through another mulga scrub, and after crossing a number of rough stony hills, we arrived at the top of the range, which I have named Davenport Range, after the Honourable Samuel Davenport, M.L.C. It is composed of hard red sandstone, with courses of quartz. I find this is not the range for which I am bound. Although this one is high, the other is still higher, and, I should think, is still forty or fifty miles distant. The day is thick, and I cannot see distinctly. Between these ranges is a large plain, more open than those we have come over. To the north the range appears to terminate; to the west of north, in the far distance, just visible, are two high hills, the northernmost of which is conical. To the east and south-east is the plain and range; to the west, continuation of the same plain that we have come over in the last two days' journey. Although we had some heavy showers at the lagoon, we have not passed a single water-course, except the one we crossed a few miles before we made this range, nor did we see a drop of surface water: it seems to be all absorbed the moment that it falls. Descended the north-north-east side of the range, and at a mile and a half found some rain water in a creek, coming from the range. Camped. Wind south-east. Distance, twenty miles.

Wednesday, 30th May, The Davenport Range. I find this water will not last more than three days. I have determined to remain here to-day, and have sent Kekwick in search of more water. As I am now a little better, I must get my plan brought up. It has got in arrear, in consequence of my hands being so bad with the scurvy. My limbs are much easier, yet the riding is still very painful; my mouth also is much better, so that I am led to hope that the disease will soon leave me. Native tracks about here, and when I was on the top of the range I saw smoke in the scrub a few miles to the north-west. Sundown: I am quite surprised that Kekwick has not returned, as my instructions to him were not to go above five or six miles, and then to return whether he found water or not. I am very much afraid that something has happened to him.

Thursday, 31st May, The Davenport Range. Kekwick has not returned. I begin to feel very uneasy about him. I must be off and follow up his tracks. Sent Ben for the horses. He was a long time in finding them, as is generally the case when one wants a thing in a hurry. 9.30: Kekwick has arrived before the horses; he overshot his mark last night, and got beyond the camp. I am very glad he is all safe. He informs me that he came upon plenty of water a few miles from here, which compensates for the anxiety he caused me during the night. His reason for not returning as I had directed was that he crossed a gum creek which had so promising an appearance, that he was induced to follow it to the plains, where he found an abundance of water. While he was riding he was taken very ill, and was unable to come on for some time, which made it so late that he could not see to reach the camp. He is unable to proceed to-day, which is vexing, for I wish to get on as quickly as possible.

Friday, 1st June, The Davenport Range. The horses having strayed, we did not get a start till late. Our course was 22 degrees, and at two miles we struck a small gum creek coming from the range and running west-north-west. At three miles and a half we crossed a larger one coming from, and running in, the same direction. Then commenced again the same sort of country that we passed through the other day. At eight miles struck a splendid large gum creek or river, having long and deep reaches of water with fish four or five inches in length; it is running through the plain as far as I can see, which is only a short distance, the ground being low and level. Its course at this place is to the west-north-west; it is very broad, and in some places the banks are perpendicular, and are well grassed and covered with fine gum-trees, mulga and other bushes. From bank to bank its width is about ten chains. This is the finest creek for water that we have passed since leaving Chambers Creek. The day being far advanced, I shall camp here, and get to the range to-morrow. I am very much inclined to follow this creek and see where it empties itself; but I expect to find a large one close to the range, or on the other side. I wish also to get on the top to see what the country on ahead is like. The fact of fish being in this creek leads me to think that it does not empty itself into the gum plains, like others lately passed, but that it must flow either into the sea on the north-west coast, or into a lake. I have named it the Bonney Creek, after Charles Bonney, Esquire, late Commissioner of Crown Lands for South Australia.

Saturday, 2nd June, The Bonney Creek. Started at 8.20 on the same course, 22 degrees, for the range, through a country of alternate spinifex and grass with a little mulga scrub. At seven miles we struck another large gum creek with every appearance of water, but I had no time to look for it, being anxious to make the range to-night, and endeavour to find water either on this side or on the other. The creek is large, and resembles the last. I have named it the McLaren, after John McLaren, Esquire, late Deputy Surveyor-General of South Australia. At seventeen miles, after passing through a well-grassed country with a little scrub, we reached the top of the first range, which is composed of a hard white granite-looking rock, with courses of quartz running through it. I have three or four spurs to cross yet before I make the main range. So far as I can see, McLaren Creek is running much in the same direction as the Bonney. Started from the top of the range and had a very difficult job in crossing the spurs. About sundown arrived all safe on a gum flat, between the ranges, and attempted to get upon what appears to be the highest range, but getting up the horses deterred us. We then sought for water among the numerous gum creeks which cover the plain, and at dark found some, and camped. There is a good supply of water, but I do not think it is permanent; it will last, however, for a month or six weeks. I have named these ranges the Murchison, after Sir Roderick Murchison, President of the Royal Geographical Society, London. Wind varying.

Sunday, 3rd June, Murchison Ranges. I feel very unwell this morning, from the rough ride yesterday. It was my intention to have walked to the top of the range to-day, but I am not able to do so. The small plain between the ranges is a bed of soft white sandstone, through which the different creeks have cut deep courses; the stones on the surface (igneous principally), are composed of iron, quartz, dark black and blue stone, also a bright red one, all run together and twisted into every sort of nick, as also with the limestone, and many other sorts which I do not know. This plain is covered with a most hard spinifex, very difficult to get the horses to face. In another creek, about one mile south-west from the camp, is a large water hole which will last six months; it is ten yards long by twenty yards wide.

Monday, 4th June, Murchison Ranges. Started on a course of 330 degrees to round this spur of the ranges, and at four miles and a half changed to 15 degrees to the high point of the range, and at three miles arrived on the top. I have named it Mount Figg. The view from this is extensive. The course of this range from the south to this point is 25 degrees; it then makes a turn to the north-north-west, in which direction the country appears more open, with some patches of thick scrub, and high ranges in the distance. From north-west to west it appears to be gum plain, with open patches of grass, and a number of creeks running into it from the range. I shall change my course to a high peak on the north-west point of the range, which bears from this 340 degrees 30 minutes. This range is volcanic here, and is of the same formation as I have already given. Started from the top of the mount at 12 o'clock. Went for eight miles along the side of the range, and met with a small gum creek running on our course; followed it up for three miles without finding water; it then took a more westerly course, so I left it to pursue my route. After leaving the mount, the range is composed of red sandstone with a little quartz. We have occasionally met with a little limestone gravel. Camped at 6 o'clock, without water.

Tuesday, 5th June, Gum-Tree Plain. Started on the same course at 7 o'clock for the high peak, through the same sort of country as yesterday. No watercourse. At fifteen miles ascended the peak, which I have named Mount Samuel, after my brother. The top is a mass of nearly pure ironstone. It attracted the compass 160 degrees. From north to west are broken ranges and isolated hills of a volcanic character, in all sorts of shapes. The isolated hills seem to be the termination of these ranges, which run nearly north and south. I have named them the McDouall Ranges, after Colonel McDouall, of the 2nd Life Guards, Logan, Wigtownshire. I then changed my course to the north-north-east in search of water, there being no appearance of any to the north-north-west. After travelling five miles over small grassy, scrubby plains, between isolated hills and gum-trees, I could not find a water-course, so I changed to the east, to try if I could see anything from a high hill, which I ascended, and discovered a gum creek coming from the range on the east side. Followed it down, and, one mile and a half from the top, found a splendid hole of water in the rock, very deep, and permanent. The creek is very rocky, and its course here is north-east into the plain. Wind south-east. Clouds from the north-west.

Wednesday, 6th June, Gum Creek, North-east Side of the McDouall Ranges. There being nothing but spinifex on the ranges and creeks, the horses had been travelling nearly all night in search of food, and had gone a long way before they were overtaken. This morning saddled and got a start by 11 o'clock on a course of 340 degrees, crossing numerous creeks and stout spinifex, through which we had great difficulty in driving the horses. At five miles struck a gum creek in which we found water. The banks have excellent feed upon them, and in abundance, so, for the sake of the horses, I have determined to remain here to-day. This creek, which I have named Tennant Creek, after John Tennant, Esquire, of Port Lincoln, runs east. In searching for the horses this morning Ben found three or four more large water holes in the adjoining creek, a little south-east from this. Before we reached this, we crossed some marks very much resembling old horse-tracks.

Thursday, 7th June, Tennant Creek, McDouall Ranges. Started at 7.20. Course, 340 degrees. At three miles passed through an immense number of huge granite rocks piled together and scattered about in every direction, with a few small water-courses running amongst them to the eastward. We then encountered a rather thick scrub, and occasionally crossed a few low quartz rises coming from the McDouall ranges. At fourteen miles ascended the highest of them, which I have named Mount Woodcock, after the Venerable the Archdeacon of Adelaide. To the north-west and north is another range, about ten miles distant, which seems to continue a long way. I will change my course to 315 degrees, which will take me to the highest point. At two miles on this course came upon a gum creek running to the north-east, which I named Bishop Creek; followed it for one mile and a half, and found water, which will last a month or six weeks, and an immense number of birds. This is a camping-place of the natives, who seem to have been here very lately. We watered the horses and proceeded towards the range. At about two miles passed a low rugged ironstone range, peculiar in having a large square mass of ironstone standing by itself about the centre. I have named it Mount Sinclair, after James Sinclair, of Port Lincoln. Passed through a thick scrub, among which we saw a very handsome bush that was new to us, having a blue-green leaf ten inches long by six inches broad. We looked for some seed, but could not find any. At five miles crossed a grassy gum plain, where a creek empties itself. The same scrub continues to the range, which we reached at twelve miles from the water. It is not very high, but rough and steep, and we had great difficulty in getting to the top, but after many twistings and turnings and scramblings, we arrived there all right, and found it to be table land. At fourteen miles camped without water. The range is composed of ironstone, granite, quartz and red sandstone, running north of west and south of east. I have named it Short Range, after the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Adelaide.

Friday, 8th June, Short Range. Started at 8 o'clock on the same course, 315 degrees, to some very distant rising grounds. Short range seems to run nearly parallel to our course, as also does another distant range to the north, which I have named Sturt Range, after Captain Sturt. The table land continued about two miles, and then there was a gradual descent to the plains, and we entered a thick scrub with spinifex and gums. At eighteen miles came upon a beautiful plain of grass, having large gum-trees, and a new description of tree, the foliage of which is a dark-green and rather round, and the bark rough and of a dark colour. Here also was the cork-tree, and numerous other shrubs. This grassy plain continued for thirty-one miles, until we camped, but the last part is not so good. When I struck this plain, I was in great hopes of finding a large creek of water, but have been disappointed; we have not crossed a single water-course in thirty-one miles. Camped at sundown. No water. Wind south-east.

Saturday, 9th June, Grassy Plain. There is some rising ground a few miles further on, to which I shall go in search of a creek; I might be able to see something from it. If I do not find water I shall have to retreat to Bishop Creek, as the horses have now been two nights without water. Started at 7 o'clock, same course, 315 degrees, through scrub and a light sandy soil. At four miles got to the rise, which is a scrubby sand-hill. From this I can see nothing, the scrub being so thick; it is of a nasty, tough, wiry description, and has torn our hands and saddle-bags to pieces. I got up a tree to look over the top of this scrub, which is about twelve feet high, and I could see our course for a long distance; it appears to be the same terrible scrub, with no sign of any creeks. It is very vexing to get thus far, and have to turn back, when perhaps another day's journey would bring me to a better country. I shall now try a south course, and cut the grassy plains to the westward, in the hope of finding water; if so, I shall be able to make two days' journey to the north-west. Started on a south course for fourteen miles, through scrub and small grassy plains alternately, but we could find neither creek nor water. I now regret that I attempted the south course, which makes the distance from the water so much greater. Wind still south-east; heavy clouds coming from the north-west, I trust it will rain before morning.

Sunday, 10th June, Grassy Plains. Started at sunrise, and at two miles again got into the scrub. Three of the horses we can scarcely get along; they are very much done up. At 11 o'clock, one horse gave in altogether. We cannot get him up; we have tried everything in our power to do something for him. The other horses have been carrying his load, and he has had nothing to carry for this last hour and a half; all our efforts are in vain, and I am obliged, although with great reluctance, to leave him to his fate. Had this occurred nearer the water, I should have put an end to his existence and taken part of him to eat, for we are now very short of provisions, and the other horses have quite enough to carry without sharing his load; I wish I had left him sooner. At 12 o'clock, I find I shall lose some more of them, if they do not get water to-night, and it will be to-morrow before I can reach Bishop Creek. I shall now go to Short range and try to find some. The little bay mare Polly has become nearly mad, running about among the other horses, and kicking them as she passes; even the men do not escape from her heels. At five miles made the range. There are no large creeks coming from this side--nothing but small ones which empty themselves into the plain; sand up to the foot of the hills. Before we reach the range another of the horses is done up; he has only been carrying about 30 pounds in consequence of his back having been bad for the last three weeks. We lightened all the weak horses two days since. We shall now try if he will go without anything on his back. We are now amongst the granite ridges, and hope we shall find water on this side. The horse has given in before we can get to the other side. We must leave him for the sake of the others. Too much time has already been lost in endeavouring to get them on. Reached the other side and searched the different creeks, but cannot find any water. Crossed a spur of the range running south, and can see a nice-looking creek with gum-trees. Our hopes and spirits are again revived; the sight of it has even invigorated the horses, and they are hurrying on towards it. Traversed it down, but, to our great disappointment, find that it loses itself in a grassy plain. It is now dark, so I must remain here for the night. The sky is quite overcast, and I trust that Providence will send us rain before morning. An accident has happened to the water we were carrying; it was all lost yesterday. If it clears during the night, so that I can see the stars to guide me, I shall move on.

Monday, 11th June, Short Range. During the night there were a few drops of rain, which again raised our hopes, and about 4 o'clock it looked as if we were to have a deluge, but, alas! it only rained for about two minutes, and as much fell as would wet a pocket-handkerchief. Saddled and started through the range, my poor little mare looking very bad this morning; I have taken everything off her, so that she may hold out until we get to water, and I have been obliged to leave as many things at this camp as I could possibly do without. The mare lies down every few yards, I am therefore compelled to leave her for the sake of the others. From the number of birds about here, I think there must be water near; I hope she may find it, although I am afraid she is too far gone even to try it. At 1 o'clock, at the foot of Mount Woodcock, the horses' spirits revived at sight of their old track. I shall now be able to get all the rest of them safe to water, although there is one still doubtful. My own black mare shows a few symptoms of madness, but still keeps on, and does her work well. About an hour before sundown arrived at the water without any more losses, for which I sincerely thank the Almighty. We have had a terrible job to keep the horses from drinking too much water, but, as they have now eaten a few mouthfuls of grass, I have allowed them to drink as much as they thought proper. The natives have been here since we left.

Tuesday, 12th June, Bishop Creek. Resting: the horses look very bad; they remained by the water all night.