McKinlay's Journal of Exploration in the Interior of Australia

Chapter 14

Chapter 143,971 wordsPublic domain

Camp 12. Dull morning, rather cloudy. Patients much improved. The female camel left behind yesterday has not made her appearance yet, still I have little doubt but that she will follow. Not a breath of wind at sunrise. Started at 8.17 a.m. Still on general course bearing of 95 1/2 degrees over open-timbered, well-grassed land. Afterwards at 10.11 came to and crossed same river from north-north-east to south-south-west. It was not far off all the morning to the right. Spelled seven minutes till 10.18. At 10.36 recrossed river where it is stony and rocky with sand in its bed, coming from south. At 11.3 struck river on right but did not cross. Followed along its north-east bank till 11.15. Still close by at 11.27. At 12.50 crossed small sandy creek from south. Spelled for six minutes till 12.56. Then bearing along the creek till 1.11 p.m. on bearing of 325 degrees three-quarters of a mile; distance on proper course 95 1/2 degrees thirteen and a quarter miles. Just after camping I found that what I take to be the River Binoe is about 120 yards east of us, flowing about 322 degrees, with a lagoon on east bank, with yellow lilies. The small creek we are camped on has plenty of water. The Binoe River has none just here. All the creeks and the river have lots of cork-screw palms in and near them. Good forest all day and abundance of grass.

Saturday, June 7.

Camp 13. But little dew last night. The old camel has not come on; perhaps she will remain until she freshens up a little and then shape her way south or east. No wind, beautiful morning. Hodgkinson shot a native companion; have seen no game for some days. Started at 8.40 on bearing of 110 degrees. In four minutes crossed the Binoe. At 9.8 came to and recrossed river or creek Binoe. At 9.45 crossed creek with rocky bed and with water from east by south. Spelled five minutes till 9.50. Quartz ridges. At twelve o'clock spurs running to south and west. At 1.40 from top of hill dismal view seen ahead; nothing but bare burnt up ranges. Struck the River Flinders or one of its largest branches at 2.18 p.m. Crossed over and camped at a long sheet of water in its bed on south-eastern side. Distance on course sixteen and three-quarter miles. The journey today has been over thick scrubby forest which tore our pack-bags a good deal. From 9 a.m. the ground was a good deal strewed over with small ironstone pebbles, not bronzed as they usually are, till 9.45 then ridges and ranges of quartz and sandstone. Drainage south and west. A high range on the left, some 6 to eight miles off, wooded to its top. Immediately below it runs the Binoe I think. Course of the range is about 100 degrees. This watercourse comes here from the north-north-east or even north of that, and bears away to the south-south-west as far as discernible. Wind during the day from east to south-east. As this is a good place for killing I will kill our last bullock as he has become a nuisance in driving the horses by rushing among them on the march and out through them in front and on all sides, causing them to travel in an unsteady manner and assisting to further tear the bags. All the patients getting on well. Natives burning down this creek or river some little distance and ahead and a little to the left of our course today, the first we have seen for a few days. I omitted to mention a couple of days ago falling in with a number of frameworks about six feet long by four wide and three high, risen by four forks placed on the ground, then side pieces, and the top covered with similar pieces closely all over lengthways, and on top of that grass; then fires at head, feet and both sides. I should say to sleep on during wet weather. Killed our bullock but little fat on him, but he is not of a fat kind.

Sunday, June 8.

Camp 14. Wind from east and north of east in the morning. Cutting up and drying the beef; the fat drying won't detain us. A great abundance of the River McKenzie bean here on the sandy parts of the watercourse. Here the watercourse is about 100 yards broad, in many places bergues of sand separating it into different channels. Wild dogs abundant. Saw traces of kangaroo, emu, and wallaby on our way here yesterday. Wind changed during the afternoon to south-east and south-south-east. This sheet of water is from 250 to 300 yards long and twenty yards broad. Kirby much better and the others getting quite convalescent.

Monday, June 9.

In Camp 14. Drying the beef, shoeing, mending pack-bags, and various other little things etc. No dew last night. Still morning. Most beautiful weather. What little wind there is is from south by west but hardly perceptible. I took Middleton with me to go out to reconnoitre and feel our way for next stage through the hills ahead. Found that the watercourse comes from north or a little west of north from between the heavy-timbered ranges to north and west, and bald hills, or nearly so, to north and east, and probably winds round nearer its source more to the east. A number of thinly-wooded hills with small creeks running from them to west and south appear to run round south for some distance, perhaps ten to fifteen miles or more. Beyond the highest in the distance the natives are busy burning, and this leads me to suppose they are on the other or principal branch of the Flinders River; but I shall know more about it in a few days. Abundance of water in the small creeks as far east and south as I went today and some lagoons in the flats. The natives commence their range of fires from 20 degrees west of south to 30 degrees east of south, and I think I shall find that it will meet me on my course. Wind in the afternoon from south by east, strong occasionally, towards evening it died away. Beef now dry. We start from here tomorrow if all is right and we have nothing more to detain us. The horses are shod except one and that one, one of the best, no shoes being large enough. I hope he will be able to get along. Our food now consists of about 230 pounds of dry and salt beef, everything else in the shape of food gone but I think we will have sufficient to carry us into the settled districts of Queensland on the Burdekin River where we will be able to get a fresh supply. We have a little salt and amongst the lot about half a pound of soap.

Wednesday, June 11.

Camp 14. The bed of this branch here is one mass of concrete and conglomerate, with small and large masses of ironstone, just as if it had lately escaped from a furnace, with pebbles and pieces of quartz, some sandstone, and sandstone in which is a mass of quartz. In many other places it is quite a bed of sand its full width, and in other places separated into different branches by bergues of alluvial deposit and sand, with trees of different kinds and shrubs and reeds upon them. There is a table-topped hill down on or near the north-west bank a few miles, lightly wooded from north-north-east to south-west and apparently stony. Not a breath of wind at daylight; afterwards in forenoon from east-south-east. Started at 8.30 a.m. on bearing of 110 degrees, for first few miles through open forest intersected with small creeks flowing to west and south, some containing water with lagoons on the flat occasionally, the drainage of the ranges to the eastward and north of our course. The spurs coming down close on our left stony but well-grassed and very lightly timbered, in fact nearly bald ridges. Over first stony ridge at 10.10 and considerable-sized double creek at 10.17, dry at crossing. Top of next high range at 11.15; five and a quarter miles. Very extensive view. Spelled on top of hill waiting for the camels for forty-five minutes till noon. Then started on bearing of 127 1/2 degrees for south-west end of large range in the distance that would otherwise come right across my original course. There is an immense large black circular range from 127 1/2 degrees round by east to west-north-west, with reaphooky faces and scrubby tops, and a number of detached conical and coronet-topped hills. At 1 p.m. water in a rocky creek close to the right. Watered the horses. Spelled ten minutes till 1.10. Crossed creek at 1.15. Sandy, scrubby forest. Crossed another sandy creek at 1.57. Crossed another sandy creek at 2.3. At 3.15 on top of rocky mulga hill with granite and mass of quartz pebbles. Some difficulty in getting over and down a rocky range (granite principally). Struck a small creek with sufficient water for our use and good feed, and camped at 3.50 at distance of ten and three-quarters to eleven miles on last bearing. Distance travelled about sixteen miles. Course of the ranges close by, the one that we last crossed and the one just close by before us, 40 degrees west of south with the drainage in same direction.

Thursday, June 12.

Camp 15. Dewless night, wind at daylight east-north-east. Started at 8.6 a.m. on bearing of 127 1/2 degrees, top of first mulga range after passing over very rough ranges; at 9.20 struck creek north-east of the large range I am making for, watered horses, etc. After scrambling and creeping over rocks and precipices arrived at south-west end of large hill; at 10.15 at about three miles spelled for thirty-four minutes till 10.39. From top of hill on which there is a little spinifex you command an extensive view; the whole country is black and dismal in appearance in every direction; a fine large range appears in the distance from 100 to 150 degrees, with well-defined gaps, etc., drainage all to the southward and westward. Now rounded this hill and went on a bearing of 100 degrees; just after beginning to descend traced a party of horses going northward under eastern side of large range, apparently when the ground was wet. Descended much more easily than we ascended; we got into a fine valley with good timber and plenty of grass, and at 11.50 about three miles came to a running creek from northward. Traces of a hurricane along the creek, tops of all the trees on the ground or suspended in the air by bits of bark; the timber on each bank does not appear here at least to have been touched. Obliged to stop here as Maitland has not overtaken us; he stayed behind at the camp for some purpose or other and did not afterwards come up; I am afraid he has missed the tracks as it is stony and rocky. This large hill is composed of sandstone of various degrees of fineness, quartz, pebbles, etc., principally; distance travelled six miles direct. Here the creek or river is timbered across with the narrow-leafed papery-barked tree; some short distance up the stream from here this description of timber nearly gives place to gums. I have no doubt but that some day or other this place will be taken up as a station. Fish are in the deep holes, some that I saw about a couple of pounds weight. I also saw some young guardfish from nine to twelve inches long and many smaller. Lots of euro and kangaroo but very shy. Maitland made his appearance shortly after camping.

Friday, June 13.

Camp 16. Dewless night, wind from east by north. I take this to be the main branch of the Flinders; the hills on its right proper banks are very bold and must be over 3000 feet high. If they are not before named I have called them Gregory's Ranges after Augustus Gregory, Esquire, now Surveyor-General of Queensland. The point I changed my course at yesterday I have called Mount Wildash after F. Wildash, Esquire, of Queensland. Immediately east of Mount Wildash close by is another bluff equally high which I have called Hawker's Bluff after the Honourable G.C. Hawker. Started at 7.58 a.m. on bearing of 100 degrees for the southern end of dark range in the distance; at 8.30 south of conspicuous sandstone rocky peak which I have called Morphett's Peak after John Morphett, Esquire, of Adelaide; dip of about 35 degrees in the sandstone to about north-east or a little more east. Kept the above course three miles over good travelling country; spelled a few minutes then up and down and over very rocky ranges, in many places precipitous and most intricate travelling from 9 a.m. till 11.30; three and a half miles farther, then table-land till 1.50, the drainage is to the east, no doubt to go south after it has cleared the rocky ranges; spelled, watering the camels from 2.25 to 2.45 p.m., up to this eight and three-quarter miles further. Commenced ascending another mass of similar rocky ranges; stopped at 3.40 two and a quarter miles further to look out a track to endeavour to get out of this awful place. Started again at 4.55 p.m. after spelling one and a quarter hours, could not get the animals over. Went back till 5.22 one mile on our track, or to sixteen and a half miles on bearing 100 degrees, to try another place, southerly and westerly along and over very rocky ranges till 6.15, about two miles on average bearing of 215 to 220 degrees. Came to a small sandy creek, then another, where by digging we will be able to give the animals some water, there is plenty of feed; it has been a very distressing day for the poor brutes; distance sixteen and a half miles on course of 100 degrees, and two miles on 220 degrees; gave each of the animals from two to five buckets. Although when first seen the little water that was visible did not exceed a quart with a few small dead fish about 1 1/2 inches long, but after digging and clearing away the sand we got sufficient for tonight and tomorrow morning. It has been close and oppressive which has added to the distress of the horses and camels. One of the latter, an old Indian, could hardly be persuaded to come along. Very light rain commenced about dark or a little after, but I doubt whether it will come to anything; however it will damp the grass for the poor animals and make it more palatable.

Saturday, June 14.

Camp 17. Only rained sufficient to damp the grass. Still cloudy; not a breath of wind at daylight. Craggy hills to commence the journey with this morning. This sandy watercourse flows to west and south, a mere narrow channel, but it was of much service to us; we would have fared badly for the poor animals had we not fallen in with it, insignificant as it appears. Our pack-bags got sadly torn yesterday with broken timber and rocks, all of which latter is sandstone. We passed much splendid splitting timber on our way yesterday, stringy-bark and other trees I don't know the names of, but useful timber. Crossed the creek at 8.38 a.m. on bearing of south by east till 8.55 three-quarters mile; spelled looking out on top of hill sixteen minutes, then on east course chiefly; at 11.30 six miles south one mile from the hill I was making for yesterday. Still on easterly course up and over a rugged and scrubby range till 2 p.m. about three and three-quarter miles. Lost an hour in searching for one of the horses that bolted and kicked off all his load prior to this. Boco (horse) obliged to be left behind. Then about north-north-east descended a range very steep and rough, then spinifex precipices, sharp ledges of rocks and every roughness one could imagine for about two miles or thereabouts, chiefly in the creek, then creek bore about east by north to east-north-east which I followed till after dark about six and a half miles, altogether about nineteen miles. Obliged to leave another horse (Governor) in the creek, fairly knocked up. He has been very soft although the highest priced horse of the lot, one bought of Mr. Boord for 50 pounds. There is another will have to be left if the country does not immediately change for the better; fortunately we found water in several places in the bed of the creek or the horses would have fared badly--a little grass of a very coarse nature just in the sides of the creek, the rest all spinifex and scrub, the latter the camels greedily devour; the rough country has told much on the feet of the latter, another of which, the old Indian, I am afraid will have to be left behind. First pines seen today since crossing Lake Torrens.

Sunday, June 15.

Camp 18. Very cloudy, every appearance of rain. Started at 9.10 along the bed of the creek still about east by north; at 10.35 three miles the creek receives a considerable tributary from the south-east, in fact it is the main channel and the one we are in the tributary, then it flowed north 15 degrees west to north or nearly so till 11.45 when the horses knocked up, must camp and give them the rest of the day and probably tomorrow; on this latter course about two miles; distance travelled between five and six miles. After getting to camp ascended the hills on the right or eastern side of the river and never beheld such a fearfully grand country in my life, nothing but towers and pinnacles of sandstone conglomerate, fit for nothing but wallaby and euro; and if it is for a thousand years from this time it can be used by no other animals but them and the natives as it is at present. The apparent course of this river from the greatest height I could get to is about 305 degrees, going in the first place after passing the camp a little more north for three or four miles--it is a terrible country. Should the river, on a closer examination tomorrow, prove to go as I imagine it does, I have nothing for it but to retrace my steps and go up the main branch and try and cross the range at top. Still very cloudy and looks as if it would rain every minute. I wish I had a little more food, if I had I would give the animals a week here but I have barely sufficient for six days. Oaks have been seen today in the bed of the river since the junction of the two channels. The river runs below the junction of the two branches for some distance, but here it is dry its full width which is about 150 to 200 yards and is very picturesque, with beautiful drooping gums, papery-bark trees, and various others, and the bold cliffs towering one above the other with awful grandeur. No one can conceive how much effect the travel of the last few days and the shortness of nourishing food has had upon our animals which ten days ago were fit for anything--always excepting this description of awful country. Wind from all points of the compass.

Monday, June 16.

Camp 19. In the bed of the River Gilbert (I take it to be) no room for camp anywhere else. The country is literally teeming with euro and wallaby, but as the natives are about in the rocks and precipices hunting we have no chance of shooting any. Very cloudy yet; rained a little during the night but nothing of any consequence; we cannot now be more than from sixty to seventy miles from the River Burdekin but from this spot utterly impracticable. Had to come down this length for anything like feed; traces of numbers of natives and their fires still burning. Went up the rocks and precipices on the eastern side of the river, and found that a high range extends eastwards, running north-west and south-east, completely blocking us in from here. Rode down the river to see if there is any likelihood of our getting out east by a tributary that it receives about one and a half miles down but found not. Rained a little in the forenoon and slight showers during the afternoon. Found that the old Indian camel (Narro) was unable to get up and go about to feed so, considering that the horses and the two remaining camels (Arabs) wanted a spell for a few days, I resolved upon killing the old camel and using him whilst here to save our dried beef, reluctantly as he is everything but a favourite morsel, but when we are compelled it is no use hesitating so had him shot; and firstly had his liver stewed or steamed, which I must say was the most extraordinary morsel I ever attempted to eat; it was as dry and juiceless and of as little flavour as if it had never formed a component part of any living animal; scarcely any of the party could touch it.

Tuesday, June 17.

In Camp 19, sandy bed of river. Rained pretty heavily during the night in showers. Cut up the meat of the camel to dry but the weather is very unfavourable; the rest of him eats much better than the liver; the heart is quite as good as a bullock's and the meat, considering the condition of the animal, not at all as tough as one would expect; the party after starving for two or three meals have quietly taken to him now and rather like the meat.

Wednesday, June 18.

Still in Camp 19--not the most enviable place in the world. Heavy dew last night. I am afraid the meat we are attempting to dry will be a failure on account of the moist state of the weather. I was sadly grieved on return of the party that went to see after the horses to learn that one of our very best horses (Rowdy) was lying dead a short distance down the river, still warm; he must have been poisoned or bitten by a snake; at present we will feel his loss much as he was so strong and always kept fat. Although the meat will not be quite dry I will see and make a start out of this in the morning in case it may be some poisonous herb that may happen to be in the bed of the river. I will return up the river to where the main branch joined the tributary we came down, and try by following it for some distance to get some place where I can ascend the ranges to the east, but I expect it to be a work of great difficulty; however that I will think nothing of if I only succeed and get the animals all over safe. The weather seems taking up now.

Thursday, June 19.