A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The History of Australian Exploration from 1788 to 1888

E >> Ernest Favenc >> The History of Australian Exploration from 1788 to 1888





MINUTE BY SIR G. Gipps.


"Acknowledge receipt, and inform Sir Thos. Mitchell, that desiring to
leave him as far as possible free to act upon his own judgment in the
arduous undertaking in which he is about to embark, I do not consider it
necessary to do more than communicate to him my approval of the course
which he has proposed. Mr. Townsend will be authorised to accompany him,
and act as his next in command, and Mr. Stephenson may, should Sir Thomas
himself approve of it, be engaged at a salary of 7s. 6d. per diem from
the day of his leaving Sydney; he must, however, find his own horse.

"Mr. Townsend will, during his absence, as well as Sir Thomas Mitchell
himself, continue to receive his usual salary from the land fund, but
every other expense will be charged against the sum voted for the purpose
by the Legislative Council, which is now increased to £2,000."

(See page 156.--[Chapter VI.])


* * * * *


EXTRACT OF A LETTER OF MR. WALTER BAGOT.

"20th January, 1844.

"The country beyond the Darling for the first few miles from the river
exhibits the same features as on its southern bank, the soil blackish,
soft, and yielding; the trees principally myall, and a species of myall,
called by the squatters rosewood, interspersed with the small and gnarled
forest oak. About ten miles from the river, and nearly parallel to it, is
the Waramble, a sort of swamp, boggy, and difficult to cross after wet
weather, directly after which water remains in the holes along its
course. From thirty to forty miles beyond this is the Nareen Creek. Here,
except in very dry seasons, water stands. This I know from the Nareen
blacks coming into the Barwin only at those times when they are in much
danger from the Barwin blacks, who are extremely hostile to them. I
cannot tell where the Nareen joins the Barwin; as far as I am acquainted
with it, it is nearly parallel to it, slightly converging to the river
westward. Between the Waramble and Nareen there is no perceptible rising
ground; from the harder nature of the soil, the plain becoming more open,
and the timber straighter and larger. I have no doubt that there is a
gradual ascent. The grass is extremely luxuriant, like all the unstocked
portions of rich ground in this country, the long kangaroo grass rising
to the saddle skirts. The brigalow, which I have never seen in any but
high ground, is here too.

"I now come to the reports of the blacks, which are: That about three
days' journey of theirs (ninety miles) beyond the Barwin is a lofty range
of mountains (I have beard of these mountains also from a gentleman who
got a distant view of them from a plain near the Nareen); that a river,
called the Culgoa, runs at the foot of these mountains, which river, from
the similarity of the name, I am inclined to think, is one which empties
itself into the Barwin, about one hundred miles lower down than the
junction of the Castlereagh. I have remarked that the word Culgoa in the
Wilem dialect signifies 'waterfall,' which adds to the likelihood of its
being a mountain stream; that after crossing the mountains, which
occupies one day (thirty miles), and travelling for two days (sixty
miles), still north-west, they reach a large river, broader and deeper
than the Barwin, the waters of which river never fail. Their name for
this river I cannot now recollect. The old black, who gave the clearest
account of this river, and who was the only one I have seen who admitted
having been actually at this river, distinctly described its course to be
different from that of the Barwin, and, perhaps, north or south-west.
Might not this river be a tributary to one of the large rivers which flow
into the Gulph of Carpentaria? and if so, how well adapted for a line of
road traversing its valley to the Gulph? I have often wished, while
residing on the Barwin, to make up a party to explore the size and course
of this river, but the dangerous character of the black tribes in its
direction, with the late Iong-continued drought, were enough to prevent
it."

(See page 156.--[Chapter VI.])


* * * * *


THE LAST LETTER RECEIVED FROM DR. LEICHHARDT.

"M'Pherson's Station, Cogoon,

"April 3, 1848.

"I Take the last opportunity of giving you an account of my progress. In
eleven days we travelled from Mr. Burell's station, on the Condamine, to
Mr. M'Pherson's, on the Fitzroy Downs. Though the country was
occasionally very difficult, yet everything went on very well. My mules
are in excellent order--my companions in excellent spirits. Three of my
cattle are footsore, but I shall kill one of them to-night, to lay in our
necessary stock of dried beef. The Fitzroy Downs, over which we travelled
for about twenty-two miles from east to west, is indeed a splendid
region, and Sir Thomas has not exaggerated their beauty in his account.
The soil is pebbly and sound, richly grassed, and, to judge from the
Myalls, of the most fattening quality. I came right on Mount Abundance,
and passed over a gap in it with my whole train. My latitude agreed well
with Mitchell's. I fear that the absence of water on Fitzroy Downs will
render this fine country to a great extent unavailable. I observe the
thermometer daily at 6 a.m. and 8 p.m., which are the only convenient
hours. I have tried the wet thermometer, but am afraid my observations
will be very deficient. I shall, however, improve on them as I proceed.

"The only serious accident that has happened was the loss of a spade, but
we are fortunate enough to make it up on this station. Though the days
are still very hot, the beautiful clear nights are cool, and benumb the
mosquitoes, which have ceased to trouble us. Myriads of flies are the
only annoyance we have.

"Seeing how much I have been favoured in my present progress, I am full
of hopes that our Almighty Protector will allow me to bring my darling
scheme to a successful termination.

"Your most sincere friend,

"LUDWIG LEICHHARDT."

(See page 166.--Chapter VII.)

* * * * *


THE NARDOO PLANT.

The Nardoo appears generally to be considered the seed of the lentil, or
some other plant of the bean tribe, whereas it belongs to one of those
cryptogamic or flowerless plants, which, like ferns and mosses, do not
produce perfect seeds, but are increased by cellular bodies named spores.
It belongs to the genus MARSILLEA, order MARSILLEACEAE, and that class of
sexual or flowerless plants called Acrogens, which have distinguishable
stems and leaves, in contra-distinction to THALLOGENS, in which stems and
leaves are indistinguishable, as sea-weeds, fungi, and lichens. The part
used for food is the INVOLUCEN SPORANGIUM, or spore case, with its
contained spores, which is of an oval shape, flattened, and about
one-eighth of an inch in its longest diameter; hard and horny in texture,
requiring considerable force to crush or pound it when dry, but becoming
soft and mucila ginous when exposed to moisture. The natives pound it
between two stones, and make it into cakes like flour. The spores
vegetate in water, and root in soil at the bottom, where the plant grows
to maturity. After the water dries up, the plants die, and leave the
spore cases on, in many instances quite covering the surface of the dried
mud. It is then that they are gathered for food. On the return of
moisture, the spore cases softened, become mucilaginous, and discharge
their contents to form a fresh crop of plants. The foliage is green, and
resembles clover somewhat, being composed of three fleshy leaflets on the
top of a stalk a few inches in length.

(See page 2166.--[Chapter IX.])


* * * * *


THE FINDING OF JOHN KING.

The details connected with the rescue of John King, the sole survivor of
the Burke and Wills Expedition, have, strangely enough, never yet found
their way into print, owing to a series of minor accidents, into the
particulars of which it is not necessary to enter here.

The relief party, under the leadership of Mr. A. W. Howitt, fully
equipped and provisioned to follow the supposed track of the expedition
to the Gulf of Carpentaria, if necessary, knew nothing up to the time of
the actual finding of King of the miserable fate which had overtaken the
lost explorers; nor had they the faintest reason for supposing that they
were actually on the verge of the discovery which was to so completely
elucidate the mystery of their disappearance.

Early in September, 1861, Howitt's party reached Cooper's Creek,
accompanied by W. Brahe, a member of Burke's expedition, who had been
left in charge of the depôt at Fort Wills by Burke. He had remained there
a month over the time mentioned in his instructions; his men were
attacked by scurvy; the blacks in the neighbourhood were getting
troublesome, and his provisions getting low. He therefore planted all the
stores he could spare under a tree, marked "dig," and with them an
explanatory letter to his leader, in the event of the return of the
absent men, and retired to the depôt at Bulloo. He then started for
Melbourne to report himself, but was intercepted by Howitt and taken back
to Cooper's Creek as a guide.

King was found by Mr. Edwin J. Welch, the surveyor, and second in command
of Howitt's party, a gentleman who afterwards identified himself with
journalism, and who has been for many years favourably known in
connection with the country press as a proprietor of newspapers, both in
Northern and Western Queensland and Victoria. The following interesting
account of his first meeting with King is taken from Mr. Welch's diary:--

"13th September, 1861. Shortly after leaving camp this morning, Howitt
and I, accompanied by Brahe, rode on down the creek, ahead of the party,
to the depôt at Fort Wills, hoping against hope that we should find
Brahe's plant empty and some record of the missing men. We were doomed to
disappointment. After a careful examination of the spot, Brahe declared
that everything was as he had left it six weeks before. The CACHÉ had not
been disturbed, and nothing but a few blacks' tracks in the loose soil
existed to show that any human life had broken the solitude. We,
therefore, continued our way, wondering what could have become of them,
and discussing with keen interest the suggestions offered by each to
guide us in our future movements. . . Camped the horses and camels about
3 p.m., on the bank of a large waterhole in the creek, covered with
wild-fowl and partially surrounded by a dense growth of dead mallows of
great size and height.

"14th September. Proceeded slowly westward, along the north bank of the
creek, carefully searching for tracks. . . . Country opening out and
improving in character. Magnificent reaches of water in the creek; some
of the water quite salt, other holes containing water of a milky tint,
sweet and pleasant to the taste, while in others again, it was brackish,
and the edges were lined with petrified boughs, leaves, and some few
fish. . . . Several times during the day we noticed blacks stealthily
watching our movements from a distance, and travelling through the long
grass in the direction we ourselves were going. . . . In the afternoon,
Howitt, who had been riding well out from the creek, returned with the
news that he had struck fresh camel tracks trending northwards,
apparently those of a lost camel. . . . Another comfortable camp on the
creek, with plenty of feed.

"15th September (Sunday). Left camp at 8 a.m. Howitt, with one of the
black boys, started to run the camel track seen yesterday. I gave Sampson
(the leading man of the file) a compass bearing to follow, with
instructions to keep as closely to it as the windings of the creek would
permit, and rode on ahead, actuated by curiosity as to the movements of
our black friends of yesterday. After travelling about three miles, my
attention was attracted by a number of niggers on the opposite bank of
the creek, who shouted loudly as soon as they saw me, and vigorously
waved and pointed down the creek. A feeling of something about to happen
excited me somewhat, but I little expected what the sequel was to be.
Moving cautiously on through the undergrowth which covered the banks of
the creek, the blacks kept pace with me on the opposite side, their cries
increasing in volume and intensity; when suddenly rounding a bend, I was
startled at seeing a large body of them gathered on a sandy neck in the
bed of the creek, between two large waterholes. Immediately they saw me,
they too commenced to howl, throw their arms about, and wave their
weapons in the air. I at once pulled up, and considered the propriety of
waiting the arrival of the party, for I felt far from satisfied with
regard to their intentions. But here, for the first time, my favourite
horse--a black cob, known in the camp as 'Piggy,' a Murray Downs bred
stock horse, of good local repute, both for foot and temper--appeared to
think that his work was cut out for him, and the time arrived in which to
do it. Pawing and snorting at the noise, he suddenly slewed round, and
headed down the steep bank, through the undergrowth, straight for the
crowd, as he had been wont to do after many a mob of weaners on his
native plains. The blacks drew hurriedly back to the top of the opposite
bank, shouting and gesticulating violently, and leaving one solitary
figure, apparently covered with some scarecrow rags, and part of a hat,
prominently alone in the sand. Before I could pull up, I had passed it,
and as I passed it tottered, threw up its hands in the attitude of
prayer, and fell on the ground. The heavy sand helped me to conquer Piggy
on the level, and when I turned back, the figure had partially risen.
Hastily dismounting, I was soon beside it, excitedly asking, 'Who, in the
name of wonder, are you?' He answered, 'I am King, sir.' For a moment I
did not grasp the thought that the object of our search was attained, for
King being only one of the undistinguished members of the party, his name
was unfamiliar to me. 'King?' I repeated. 'Yes,' he said; 'the last man
of the exploring expedition.' 'What, Burke's?' 'Yes.' 'Where is he--and
Wills?' 'Dead--both dead, long ago;' and again he fell to the ground.
Then I knew who stood before me. Jumping into the saddle, I rode up the
bank, fired two or three revolver shots to attract the attention of the
party, and, on their coming up, sent the other black boy to cut Howitt's
track and bring him back to camp. We then put up a tent to shelter the
rescued man, and by degrees, as he recovered from the excitement of the
meeting, we got from him the, sad story of the fate of his leader. We got
it at intervals only, between the long rests which his exhausted
condition compelled him to take, and the main facts are, as summarised,
given below:--

"'Burke, Wills, Gray, and I, left the depôt in charge of Brahe, at Fort
Wills, on the 16th December, 1860, with six camels, one horse, and
provisions for three months. The stock was in splendid condition, and we
were in high spirits. Keeping a steady course northwards, we reached salt
water and mangrove swamps on--but I can't tell you the date; you will
find it in Wills' field-books. He said it was the Gulf of Carpentaria,
and we were satisfied; we could not get through the mangroves, and never
saw the open water, but we had accomplished the object of the expedition.
One of the camels had knocked up some distance back, and we had to plant
his load, so that we were afraid to stay too long, for fear of getting
short of rations. We did not follow our own tracks all the way back, but
hurried as much as possible to reach the depôt in time. On the way back
we killed the horse and one camel for meat, and one of the camels got
away from us, so that we had only two left to finish the journey. We all
walked, and threw away everything except the rations, a gun, and the
clothes we had on. At one of the camps we buried all Mr. Wills'
instruments, but I don't remember which one it was. Gray was getting
knocked up worse and worse every day, and then he got to taking more than
his share of the flour and sugar when he got a chance. Mr. Burke
threatened him and boxed his ears for this, and when he turned in one
night, about two days before we expected to reach the depôt, he said he
felt he would not live till morning, and, sure enough, he didn't. When we
turned out at daylight, Gray was dead; so we stopped there that day, and
scooped a hole in the sand about three feet deep with our hands, and
buried him in it. The next morning we pushed on for the depôt, and when
we got there, two days after, it was deserted. The fire was still alight,
and the tracks of Brahe's party were all fresh. There was a tree marked
'DIG,' and when we were able to get at the plant we found Brahe's note,
which said they had left that morning; but we did not mind it very much,
as there was plenty to eat. Of course, we were disappointed, but Mr.
Burke said we could get back by Strzelecki's Creek to Mount Hopeless, and
so to Adelaide. We stopped at the depôt five days, which was a good spell
for ourselves and the two camels, and we felt much better. When we were
ready to start, we buried all the field-books and some letters, to let
anybody who came by know where we were going, and then covered up the
plant carefully, so that the blacks should not find it out. We went
westerly down the creek, and saw lots of blackfellows, but Mr. Burke did
not care to try and make friends with them; he said there were too many
of them, and it was no good wasting time. After we got some distance down
the creek, it was decided to cross and strike to the southward, but we
must have picked a bad place, for one of the camels got stuck in a
quicksand at the end of a waterhole, and we could not get him out,
although we worked hard for nearly twenty-four hours; so, as there was
nothing else left for it, we shot him, cut off as much meat as we could
carry, and, after drying it, started on again; but our load was so much
heavier now that we had to travel very slowly, and the other camel was
beginning to knock up. After two days more, he got so weak that he
couldn't get up off the ground, so we had to shoot him too, pack some
more of the meat, and then go on. We got on to a branch creek, which ran
in the direction we wanted to go, but after a few more miles it ran out,
and lost itself in channels in an earthy plain: so we had to go back to
the last water. We were all three beginning to feel bad now, so it was
decided to take a good spell before making another attempt. While we were
doing this the rations were getting very short, and we began to cat
nardoo the same as the blacks. Sometimes the blacks would come by and
give us a few fish, which we could not catch ourselves, and sometimes we
managed to shoot a crow or a hawk, but we had no strength to go and look
for anything. Mr. Wills, however, determined to go back to the depôt, and
see if anybody had been there, and he was away some days by himself. When
he came back, he told us that he had seen nobody, but that he had opened
the plant in the night, to bury another letter to the committee, and
carefully covered it up again. A good thing for us, it happened that the
weather was very fine, although cold at night, and we felt the cold
badly, having very few clothes. Then we shifted camp a little higher up
the creek, where there were two or three blacks' gunyahs, and Mr. Wills
got so weak that he could not move out of his at all. Mr. Burke and I
were getting very weak, too, but I was not so bad as they were, and
managed to collect and pound enough nardoo to keep us all from starving
outright. In a few days things were so bad that Wills, who was getting
worse all the time and suffering great pain, persuaded Mr. Burke and I to
go up the creek, while we had strength, and look for the blacks, as our
only chance of life. We didn't like the idea of separating, but it seemed
to be our only chance, so we made him some nardoo bread, and left it,
with a billy of water, beside him, and went away. Together, Mr. Burke and
I wandered slowly up the creek, but could not see a sign of any blacks,
and after we had gone fourteen or fifteen miles, Mr. Burke said he could
not go any farther, and lay down under a tree. I found some nardoo close
by, and had the good luck to shoot a crow. The night was very cold, and
we felt it dreadfully, and before daylight Mr. Burke said he was dying,
and told me not to try and bury him or cover up his body in any way, but
just put his pistol in his right hand. I did this, and then he wrote
something in his pocket-book, and died about two hours after sunrise.
When I was able to move, I went on again, to try and find help for Wills,
but the blacks had all disappeared. I found some nardoo in one of their
camps, though, and with this and another crow I shot, I started back to
Wills. It took me four days to get back, and when I got there I found he
was dead, too. I covered up his body with boughs and sand as well as I
could, and then rested for two days, and started off again to look for
blacks. I don't know how many days it was before I found them, but I
think a good many. At first they were very kind to me, and gave me plenty
to eat; after that they tried to drive me away, but I stuck to them, and
the women gave me some nardoo every day, and sometimes one of the men
would give me some fish. I don't know how long I have been with them, but
I think it must be about three months. I knew you were coming before I
saw you, for some strange blacks came down the creek and brought the news
to the others, and somehow I got to understand that they had seen some
white men on horses, who I knew would look for me. I could not learn to
talk to them, but I began slowly to understand what they were saying. I
think I could have lived for a long time with them, for I was all the
while getting a little bit stronger.'"

From the foregoing narrative it will be at once seen that the unfortunate
collapse of Gray, when within only two days' journey of the depôt, was
the direct cause of the death of Burke and Wills. King was a young man,
of good physique, and of a nature in which the disposition to mental
worry or anxiety had no part. The leaders had to endure this in addition
to their physical sufferings, and the bitterness of dying within the
reach of help, after having successfully accomplished the most dashing
feat ever recorded in the annals of Australian exploration. They had
performed their allotted task, and they perished miserably in the hour of
their success.

The criticisms of Australians generally, and of bushmen in particular,
were for a long time afterwards directed to the apparently unaccountable
circumstance that neither Howitt, Welch, nor Brahe detected at their
first visit to the depôt that the CACHÉ had been opened. King's narrative
showed that it had actually been twice opened, but it must be borne in
mind that on each occasion the best precautions were adopted to conceal
the fact, and thereby avoid attracting the attention of the blacks. The
unfortunate men, who were slowly starving to death on the banks of the
creek, had left no visible sign of their visit to the spot. Brahe, who
made the plant, positively asserted that it had not been interfered with,
and Howitt, therefore, wisely declined to burden himself with an
additional weight of stores for which he had no present use. Even had it
been opened on that 13th of September, the knowledge which it would have
revealed was too late to be of service, and could not have expedited the
rescue of King by more than a few hours, if at all.

(See page 219.--[Chapter IX.])


* * * * *


POISON PLANTS.

The properties of the Australian plants are only imperfectly known, very
few species having been chemically examined; numbers are suspected, but
have not been positively proved. The poison plant that caused such havoc
amongst the horses of both Jardine and Austin mostly affects the spinifex
country. It is a ground plant, and liable to be cropped by a horse
amongst the grass, when the animal would probably refuse to touch a bush.

Amongst the most poisonous plants known in Australia may be mentioned the
"thorny apple," DATURA STRAMONIUM, and DATURA TATULA; also the EXCAECARIA
AGALLOCHA, and LOLIUM TERMULENTUM.

The indigo plant, SWAINSONA GALEGIFOLIA, is a glabrous perennial, or
undershrub, with erect flexuose branches, sometimes under one foot,
sometimes ascending, or even climbing, to the height of several feet. The
flowers are rather large, and deep-red in the original variety; pod much
inflated, membranous one to two inches long, on a stipe varying from two
to six lines. The species varies, with light, purplish-pink flowers, S.
CORONILLAEFOLIA; and white flowers, S. ALBIFLORA. The difference in the
length of the stipes of the pod does not, as had been supposed, coincide
with the difference in the colour of the flower. This plant acts in a
peculiar way upon sheep, driving them insane until death ensues. The
sheep, however, select it as an especial tit-bit, it, apparently,
possessing an irresistible fascination for them.

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