Journals of Australian Explorations
Chapter 7
Finding that the Murchison was leading us too much to the eastward, the object of the expedition being to reach the Gascoyne with as little delay as possible, we quitted the river on a north-north-east course for about eight miles over a tolerably grassy plain, in some parts open, with atriplex and samphire, and in others rather thickly studded with acacia and melaleuca. Ascending a granite hill of 150 feet elevation, the plain was observed to the eastward to extend to the horizon, only broken by one remarkable bold trap hill at the distance of twenty miles, which was eventually named Mount Gould, the main Murchison flowing round its southern base, while a considerable tributary from the north-east passed close under it to the north-west. To the north of our position the country rose into a succession of stony ridges thinly grassed and nearly destitute of trees; in the valleys the kangaroo grass was tolerably plentiful and quite green--a sufficient evidence that we had now arrived within the influence of the rains that had produced the recent inundation, which gave us every hope of being able to push across the country intervening between this and the Gascoyne. We accordingly altered our course to north-west for the remainder of this and the following day, crossing several tributaries to the Murchison, in which we found plenty of water, and on their banks an abundant supply of grass for our horses, the streams being generally divided from each other by low stony ridges or plains of red sandy loam, yielding a rather scanty supply of grass.
3rd May.
Having rested the party the previous day, it being Sunday, in latitude 25 degrees 33 minutes 48 seconds, at a fine pool of fresh water in a stream running south, and apparently tributary to the Murchison, we resumed our course for three or four miles up a branch of the stream upon which we had been encamped, which terminated at a gentle stony ascent; another mile brought us to its summit, which proved to be the watershed between the Gascoyne and Murchison; its elevation was found to be 1,500 feet above the sea. From this ridge a short descent northward led us to the head of a watercourse, which we followed in the same direction for seventeen miles, augmented by several small tributaries; turning to the westward, it formed a junction with another river coming from the eastward, in latitude 25 degrees 14 minutes 23 seconds, at an elevation of 1,144 feet above the sea.
STONY PLAINS.
The country through which we had passed was a nearly level and barren plain, evenly and closely paved with small stones, amongst which a few stunted acacia found a precarious existence; to this portion of country we gave the characteristic name of Macadam Plains.
GASCOYNE RIVER.
4th May.
The river we had encamped upon the preceding night had a level sandy channel thirty-five yards wide, with several shallow pools in its bed; a narrow belt of flooded-gum lined either bank, which also produced abundance of excellent feed; several of the grasses were new to us, yielding a large quantity of seed; further back the pasture was more scanty, and of an inferior variety of grass, the trees consisting almost entirely of small hakea or acacia.
The features of the country are generally very tame, with the exception of a prominent hill of considerable altitude, nearly twenty miles to the northward, to which we gave the name of Mount Gascoyne. The summit of another range, of less elevation, a little to the northward of west, distant fifteen miles, was called Mount Puckford.
Having decided upon following the left bank of the river, with the view of ascertaining what tributaries might joint from the southward, we this morning took our course for Mount Puckford, touching frequently upon the bends of the river, which soon found a junction with a large channel coming from the eastward, which ultimately proved to be the main Gascoyne; it was still running in a small stream in the bottom of a sandy bed, eighty yards wide, traces of recent heavy floods being plentiful. At ten miles the river has broken through a ridge of opaline rocks, in irregular masses, resembling flints, lying north-east and south-west, and a few miles further coming in contact with the south-east foot of Mount Puckford, it doubles back round its north-east base, and there takes a general north-west course to latitude 24 degrees 36 minutes, and longitude 116 degrees east, which we reached by noon of the 7th, a considerable tributary joining at this point from the northward. A compact sandstone range, resting on a granite base (which was named the Lockier Range, after Mr. Lockier Burgess, one of the principal promoters of the expedition), here diverts the course of the river to the left, which, by sundown, we found was running nearly south. The country for the last fifty miles varies but little in character, extensive open plains alternating with low granite ridges; the banks of the river, which here has acquired a width of 100 yards, with a depth of forty-six feet, being in many places stony and cut down by deep muddy creeks, rendering travelling both slow and laborious. Several tributaries join from the north and south, all of which had very recently ceased to run.
To the north and east were several prominent peaks and ranges of trap hills clothed with short herbage; to the highest of the former, a single conical peak, with deeply serrated sides, was given the name of Mount James, after my friend and fellow-traveller, Mr. James Roe; while two lofty summits, far to the northward, were called Mount Samuel and Mount Phillips.
The principal feed was found near the banks of the rivers, the back country still yielding only a scanty supply of a red-coloured silky grass of little value except when quite fresh. A tree resembling the sycamore of the Murchison, but with the leaves arranged in triplets, and the seed pods in the form of a large bean, grows near the river and attains to two feet in diameter, with a height of forty feet; the wood is light and spongy, something resembling the Nuytsia floribunda, but not gummy. It is formed by the natives into shields, and near the coast into canoes. We also found on some of the rocky hills a tree with fruit and flowers resembling a small fig, the leaves like a lemon, but yielding an acrid milky juice.
Several new species of crested quail and dark-brown pigeons were first observed here; the beautiful small doves, common in the northern districts, were also seen by thousands; gallinule and the elegant Ochaphaps plumafera (crested pigeon of the marshes) were also very numerous.
SURPRISE A NATIVE CAMP.
8th May.
Pursuing our course down the left bank, we crossed several stream-beds which drain the large tract of country between this and the Murchison. The Gascoyne here divides into several broad sandy channels, sometimes as much as a mile apart. Towards evening we came upon a native encampment; few of the men appeared to have returned from their day's hunting, but we observed upwards of thirty women and children, who ran into the bed of the river to hide, some of the women immersing their children completely under water occasionally to prevent their cry of alarm attracting our attention. Although we had before met with and spoken to several natives, this was the first opportunity we had of examining into their domestic economy. Around their fires, of which there were many, were ranged a number of wooden scoops capable of holding from two to four quarts; these contained a variety of seed and roots; the most plentiful was a species of grain like small plump drake, gathered from a grass much resembling wheat, which is very abundant on the alluvial flats, and a root resembling an onion not larger than a pistol bullet, a few rats, which are very numerous in the grassy flats, and a small variety of samphire like a Hottentot fig, formed the principal portion of their evening's repast.
The few weapons left by the men consisted of heavy spears, with from three to eighteen barbs cut out of the solid wood, the shaft from ten to twelve feet in length, large shields resembling those in use by the natives at Champion Bay, made from the sycamore, and few skins of the red kangaroo, formed their entire camp equipment.
A NIGHT ATTACK.
Leaving everything as we found it, we passed on about two miles and encamped for the night on a low sandy island in the bed of the river, which was here full of flooded-gums of large growth, there being just sufficient grass for our horses immediately around our fire. By 9 o'clock our supper had been disposed of, and I had just completed my observations for latitude, when we heard the shouts of a large party of natives approaching from the direction of their camp; leaving Mr. Roe with two others to guard the camp, I advanced with Mr. Moore and Dugel to ascertain the object of their visit, which we soon found to be evidently hostile, as they came on rapidly, all well armed to the number of sixty or seventy, the women and children retiring to some rocky ground, while the men advanced lighting the large stacks of drift which were abundant in this part of the river. When within about forty yards they halted a moment, as we had damped our fire and they could not exactly make out our position. Mr. Moore was in the act of removing his horse from the front when a fresh fire enabled them to see us, upon which ten or twelve of the leading men shipped their spears. Being still desirous, if possible, of avoiding a collision, I hesitated to fire upon them; but observing a large body of them advancing with the evident intention of attacking Mr. Roe and his little party in charge of the camp, I advanced a few steps and fired a charge of small shot at the leading men as they were in the act of throwing at us. The effect was instantaneous and most salutary, as they fled with some precipitation, some of them being evidently wounded. We mounted extra guard for the remainder of the night, but they did not again venture to attack us.
9th May.
Being Sunday, we only moved a few miles lower down the river for more grass, and again found ourselves in close proximity to the natives. In the course of the day several of them made their appearance at the top of the hill overlooking the camp, but appeared afraid to molest us; they had with them several large white dogs which were evidently of Australian breed.
10th May.
The river took a south-west course, receiving two large tributaries from the south-east, one of ninety and the other of fifty yards in width. The flats were wider and large trees more abundant; the recent floods had, however, been very destructive to the pasture, and removed much of the soil for a considerable distance back from the river. The trap hills here ceased to appear; the last remarkable one lay about ten miles south-east of our morning's camp, and had been named Mount Dalgetty. Our evening's bivouac was found to be in latitude 25 degrees 14 minutes, longitude 115 degrees 30 minutes east by account, and its elevation 700 feet above the sea.
11th May.
Until noon our course along the river was nearly north-west, sandstones beginning to crop out on the banks, and the country generally was poor and scrubby; from our noon halt to sunset our course was nearly west, our bivouac being in latitude 25 degrees 2 minutes. The bed of the river had here widened out to 300 yards with an average depth of thirty feet, a small stream running through the sand in the bottom. In addition to the flooded-gum which grows here abundantly, we observed in the bed of the river a melaleuca of large size, like a paper-bark tree, but having broad leaves resembling the eucalyptus. During the night the natives were very noisy in the vicinity, some of them approaching so close as to startle our horses, keeping us well on the alert; the horses on this as on several other occasions appear to have been our principal safeguard against sudden attack.
FRIENDLY INTERVIEW WITH NATIVES.
12th May.
By the time we had commenced loading our horses, a large body of natives had collected and approached to reconnoitre our camp; I advanced towards them to keep them in check until the loads were completed. On observing that I came alone three natives advanced to meet me, throwing three or four spears at me in a friendly way, which I picked up and stuck in the ground by my side; this token at once established a good understanding, and after an exchange of presents they followed us for many miles down the river before quitting us. Towards nightfall several of our friends of the morning again made their appearance with a number of strange natives, dodging us among the deep muddy ravines which abound at this part of the river; their manoeuvres being equivocal and unsatisfactory, we kept well on our guard; they, however, ran off at night, on my facing about on horseback to drive them away.
Our course during the day had been nearly west twenty-two miles, one large tributary having joined the river from the northward, which was afterwards named the Lyons, in honour of the gallant admiral of that name; this accession had increased the breadth of the channel to 400 yards. As we drew towards our evening's bivouac the river entered a gorge formed by the river cutting through the south end of a flat-topped sandstone range of about 1,200 feet elevation above the sea, presenting many bold and picturesque outlines and detached summits, terminating in abrupt and almost precipitous faces; to this we gave the name of the Kennedy Range, in honour of our present Governor.
To the south a detached mass of broken sandstone hills gradually falls away in the distance, apparently into a barren scrub similar to those on the banks of the lower Murchison, while to the west lay before us an extensive plain, unbroken by a single object save a few long ridges of red drift sand, clothed with a stunted scrub of melaleuca and acacia. The bottom of the gorge we found to be 480 feet above the sea.
13th May.
From this morning to noon of the 15th the country passed over was similar to that first described, the sand ridges running north-west and south-east at about a quarter of a mile apart; the river keeping a general course of west-north-west, its channel deepening to sixty feet, and maintaining an average width of 400 yards. Grass was only to be found in small patches along the margin of the river; the accumulated waters of the late inundations having been confined to one channel, had risen to the height of forty-eight feet, carrying away many of the largest timber trees, as also much of the soil from the banks, leaving a scene of devastation exceeding anything of the kind I had hitherto witnessed.
A small description of Spanish reed was here first observed to grow on the margin of the pools. Deep muddy creeks, having only short courses, were very numerous, rendering travelling both tedious and intricate.
From noon of the 15th the country gradually opened out to a thinly-grassed plain of light alluvial soil, atriplex bushes and acacia widely scattered forming almost the entire vegetation; the ground, with the exception of the bed of the river, being parched and dry, no rain having fallen during the summer to the west of the Lyons River, in longitude 115 degrees 30 minutes east.
16th May.
Being Sunday, we only moved four miles lower down the river for better feed, the channel widening out to 600 yards.
17th May.
Early to-day the river began to throw off numerous channels to the north and south, shedding, when in a flood, a considerable amount of water over the adjoining plains, clothing the country in the garb of spring, the grass growing luxuriantly along the numerous channels, atriplex and other low bushes generally covering the plain, the lowest levels of which were extensively covered with fields of mud from one to fourteen inches thick, the deposit of a single inundation, yet scarcely hardened by the summer sun.
REACH THE COAST AT SHARK'S BAY.
At twenty miles we ascended a sandy ridge of about sixty feet in height, from which we had our first view of Shark's Bay, Babbage Island, and the mouths of the Gascoyne, now only four miles distant.
Behind the ridge upon which we stood, and for many miles to the south-east, the country was still under water from the recent floods, while between us and the sea lay a low flat, on which were many patches of acacia thicket, alternating with open grassy glades, or fields of atriplex and samphire, terminating to the westward in a broad irregular belt of mangroves, resting on the shallow margin of the bay.
Descending to the flat, we encamped in a rank patch of grass on the bank of the river, about a mile above Babbage Island, the north end of which I found to be in latitude 24 degrees 52 minutes, which is four miles north of the position as given by Sir G. Grey.
KOLAINA PLAINS.
18th May.
We found no difficulty in crossing the southern mouth on to Babbage Island; the tide being low, it was quite dry at the junction. Having, with Mr. Roe, walked over the greater part of the island, making a rough sketch of its outlines, and completing the requisite observations, while the rest of the party were occupied in an unsuccessful attempt to catch fish, we retraced our steps and crossed the main channel opposite our last night's bivouac, where it is not more than 250 yards wide. Continuing our course north-east for nearly a mile, we crossed several back channels, some trending towards the Kolaina flat of Sir G. Grey, while others were lost in the deep sandy ravines that extend for some distance to the north of the river.
While on Babbage Island several natives had waded across the northern mouth of the river to meet us, and had returned after a friendly interview, in which they apparently described the recent landing of two boats with Europeans. We now again fell in with the same natives on the north bank, near a large encampment of women and children; the latter quickly hid themselves on our approach, but the men assumed a threatening attitude, following us for some distance with much clamour. As their numbers quickly augmented, and they appeared determined to commence a fight, we led them out on to an open plain, where, leaving the pack-horses in charge of two of the party, four of us suddenly faced about and charged them at a gallop. This harmless manoeuvre had the desired effect, several of them having narrowly escaped being trodden under foot by the horses. They were very quickly dispersed, and made no further attempt to molest us. We encamped this night about six miles above Babbage Island.
19th May.
As our object was to explore as far to the northward as circumstances would allow, we left the river on a north-east course; but two hours' ride across an open plain, through which several channels ran to the north-west, brought us to dry barren scrubs, in which it appeared hopeless we should find either feed or water; we accordingly altered our course to south-east, and made the river again about sundown.
RETURN UP THE RIVER.
20th to 23rd May.
Was occupied in tracing up the north bank of the river in the hope of finding a tributary coming in from the northward; but, with the exception of one small stream which drains the western face of the Kennedy Range, not a single tributary was met with until we arrived at the Lyons River, a distance of more than ninety miles from Babbage Island. The country on the north bank differs but little from that on the south, except that travelling was somewhat easier.
THE LYONS RIVER. ALMA RIVER.
24th May.
Our horses having had a rest, the previous day being Sunday, we made an early start, and by noon halted on the Lyons River, a short distance above its confluence with the Gascoyne; its channel here was equal in magnitude and similar in appearance to the main river; a small stream was still flowing through the wide sandy bed, and gradually increased in volume for nearly eighty miles up the river. Three miles to the north of our midday halt Mr. Roe and myself ascended a deep sandstone peak, from which we had a fine view of the Kennedy Range, the nearest part of which lay about six miles to the west, extending for nearly thirty miles to the northward; the eastern face presents an almost unbroken line of nearly perpendicular sandstone, of probably 500 or 600 feet elevation. To the north a few remarkable peaks served as valuable points to carry on our triangulation, which had been continued almost uninterruptedly from Mount Hope, on the Murchison.
To the east were several ranges of flat-topped hills, filling in the space between the Lyons and the great southern bend of the Gascoyne; while to the south, with the exception of a few very distant peaks, it appeared, as far as the eye could reach, to be an uniform plain of open but almost grassless scrub.
Having completed our round of angles, we struck south-east to a patch of forest on the banks of the river, which we did not reach until sometime after dark.
25th May.
From this point to latitude 23 degrees 56 minutes the Lyons maintains a general course of north-north-east. The country passed over during to-day had evidently been tolerably grassy, but the floods had been quite as destructive here as on the Gascoyne, the bed of the river and flats for half a mile on each side being mostly choked up or buried under fields of fine white sand, which had been brought down by the inundations. In several places we observed beds of gypsum and fossil shells with other strong indications of the existence of coal in the vicinity. Bivouac in latitude 24 degrees 41 minutes 18 seconds.
26th May.
A few miles along the river brought us to a gorge in the eastern edge of the sandstones, to the east of which it opened out into extensive plains in some parts well grassed, and in others much washed by the river. Several trap and granite hills were visible at some distance to the northward and eastward. Our bivouac was in latitude 24 degrees 31 minutes 0.5 seconds, about three miles south of a bold trap-range, the summit of which was named Mount Sandiman.
27th May.
The country still maintained its variable character, travelling near the river being exceedingly heavy on account of the sand. The morning had been calm and sultry, but towards noon a strong breeze set in from the north, bringing with it a dense cloud of fine red dust, against which it was no easy matter to make head with our horses. Towards evening the flats began to improve, and we halted for the night amongst fine grass; melons and tobacco growing very luxuriantly. To-night it rained for about two hours, clearing the atmosphere of its load of dust.
28th May.
Resuming our course up the river, at four miles we crossed a stream-bed forty yards wide, coming in from the north-north-west, and in the course of the day passed over several thin beds of opaque opalline rock resting upon the sandstone. At our camp, which was in latitude 24 degrees 0.3 minutes 0.8 seconds, granite began to make its appearance in the bed of the river.
29th May.
Our pack-horses having now been much lightened of their loads, we were to-day for the first time able to trot for several hours; and as the country still improved, several fine grassy valleys coming in from the eastward, we made considerable progress.
ALMA RIVER.