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	<title>Major Mitchell Expedition</title>
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	<description>Journeys through Australia</description>
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		<title>October &#8211; November</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/11/october-november/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/11/october-november/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 26 Nov 2010 04:56:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>eliza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Eliza Tree]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=490</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[What a journey!
Completed my Expedition back at Sydney, several weeks ago.
As a finale, I visited the Grave of Major Thomas Livingston Mitchell, at the Newtown Cemetery. It was very moving to see his grave, in this beautiful site, tho I’m sure he would have preferred to have been buried in bonny Scotland.
My return journey through [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>What a journey!</strong></p>
<p>Completed my Expedition back at Sydney, several weeks ago.<br />
As a finale, I visited the Grave of Major Thomas Livingston Mitchell, at the Newtown Cemetery. It was very moving to see his grave, in this beautiful site, tho I’m sure he would have preferred to have been buried in bonny Scotland.</p>
<p>My return journey through NSW was very different to most of the previous, as it mainly followed major roads, including the Hume Highway: having first been traversed by Hume and Hovell in 1824, then Mitchell in 1836, and soon after by the ‘overlanders’ flooding from Sydney in hot pursuit of the fine lands Mitchell had described in such glowing terms.</p>
<p>Once again, the contrast between Victoria and NSW was marked by much larger Land holdings / farms. Clearly, Victoria was more fertile, and had quite different settlement patterns. Travelling through Victoria, following Mitchell’s track, was far more often through small country towns, and along back lanes and roads – consequently, more interesting, and very pretty, verdant green in its’ Spring flourish.</p>
<p>It is amazing to think also, about the speed at which the lands had been ‘taken up’ by squatters and settlers. Sydney was beginning to swell with new emigrants from England, Scotland, Ireland &amp; the Continent, so there was a huge thirst for new lands. To this end, Mitchell made a huge contribution. There are many elements to this colonial expansion, especially in regard to the Indigenous peoples. They were rapidly dislocated/ ‘dispersed’ from their ancestral lands. And about this, I feel terribly sad.</p>
<p>I believe it is very important to understand and embrace this aspect about Mitchell, and the early explorers / settlers. It was not a peaceful ‘settlement’, but a violent invasion, and needs to be spoken of in these terms. It is amazing to me, how ‘politely’ our society has defined and described this process : denigrating the Indigenous peoples, and eventually making them ‘invisible’. We need only to recognise the multitude of Aboriginal names of Places, to understand that the clans and tribes owned and cultivated all of the Land. Sadly also, the most fertile and productive sites- on waterways, etc, were most rapidly ‘taken up’, with the ancestral owners either killed, or ‘dispersed’. A profound Apology to this extraordinary and ancient culture and Peoples, for these terrible actions and outcomes.</p>
<p>Following the completion of my Journey in Sydney, I returned to Mount Canobolas and Boree. Soon after I was joined by an old friend and Botanist: Sandy Cochrane. We then spent a further 10 days on the road, revisiting some of the sites, to observe and record the ecology. It was fascinating to see the land, flora, fauna, and especially waterways. Having travelled through, initially in the autumn, soon after rain. Now to see it again in the Spring time, after a wonderfully wet winter. The changes were amazing: creeks, dams and waterways now brimming: singing and croaking with life. Many of the trees, previously struggling with the effects of prolonged drought, again beginning to flourish with new growth. Conversely, the weeds were also in abundance, with a purple haze over much of the country, due to Pattersons Curse blooming in all its’ glory.</p>
<p>And now, back in Castlemaine.<br />
So much to do! I have immersed myself in the process of painting my Exhibition: quite a task as there is So much to say. and so many questions from the Journey to explore.</p>
<p>My fascination in Mitchell continues to grow, and I believe many of the answers to my questions lie in Mitchells’ ‘correspondence’ &#8211; he was a great letter writer. Fortunately, the task of researching these documents is made easier with the use of ‘search engines’, and that many of the documents, letters, and articles are held by our State Librarys. There is much research to do.</p>
<p>The Event of Major Mitchell –175 years. 1836 – 2011, also requires much organization. At this stage I am feeling a little overwhelmed by it all, and I hope to ‘come up for air’ quite soon.</p>
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		<item>
		<title>27 October (Sydney)</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-27-oct-sydney/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-27-oct-sydney/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2010 05:17:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[AGREEABLE TRAVELLING.
October 27.
Brightly shone the sun, the sky was dressed in blue and gold and &#8220;the
fields were full of star-like flowers, and overgrown with joy,&#8221;* on the
first day of my ride homeward along the green banks of the Murrumbidgee,
having crossed the river in a small canoe that morning. Seven months had
elapsed since I had seen [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>AGREEABLE TRAVELLING.</p>
<p>October 27.</p>
<p>Brightly shone the sun, the sky was dressed in blue and gold and &#8220;the</p>
<p>fields were full of star-like flowers, and overgrown with joy,&#8221;* on the</p>
<p>first day of my ride homeward along the green banks of the Murrumbidgee,</p>
<p>having crossed the river in a small canoe that morning. Seven months had</p>
<p>elapsed since I had seen either a road or a bridge although during that</p>
<p>time I had travelled over two thousand four hundred miles. Right glad was</p>
<p>I, like Gilpin&#8217;s horse, &#8220;at length to miss the lumber of the wheels,&#8221; the</p>
<p>boats, carts, specimens, and last but not least, Kater&#8217;s compasses. No</p>
<p>care had I now whether my single step was east or north-east, nor about</p>
<p>the length of my day&#8217;s journey, nor the hills or dales crossed, as to</p>
<p>their true situation, names, or number, or where I should encamp. To be</p>
<p>free from such cares seemed heaven itself, and I rode on without the</p>
<p>slightest thought about where I should pass the night, quite sure that</p>
<p>some friendly hut or house would receive me and afford snugger shelter</p>
<p>and better fare than I had seen for many a day.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. Remains of Peter Corcoran. Blackwood&#8217;s Magazine.)</p>
<p>APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY ON THE MURRUMBIDGEE.</p>
<p>We had arrived on the Murrumbidgee seventy-five miles below the point</p>
<p>where that river quitted the settled districts and ceased to form a</p>
<p>county boundary. I found the upper portion of this fine stream fully</p>
<p>occupied as cattle-stations, which indeed extended also, as I was</p>
<p>informed, much lower down the river; and such was the thoroughfare in</p>
<p>that direction that I found a tolerable cart road from one station to</p>
<p>another. I passed the night at the house of a stockman in charge of the</p>
<p>cattle of Mr. James Macarthur, and I was very comfortably lodged.</p>
<p>October 28.</p>
<p>With the Murrumbidgee still occasionally in view we pursued the road</p>
<p>which led towards Sydney. Each meadow was already covered with the lowing</p>
<p>herds for which it seemed to have been prepared; and the traces of man&#8217;s</p>
<p>industry were now obvious in fences, and in a substantial wooden house</p>
<p>and smoking chimney, usually built in the most inviting part of each</p>
<p>cattle run. All the animals looked fat and sufficiently proved the value</p>
<p>of the pasturage along this river. Steep and rugged ridges occasionally</p>
<p>approached its banks and, in following the beaten track, I this day</p>
<p>crossed acclivities much more difficult for the passage of</p>
<p>wheel-carriages than any we had traversed throughout those uncultivated</p>
<p>wastes, where even the pastoral age had not commenced.</p>
<p>The scenery at various points of the river seen this day was very</p>
<p>beautiful; its chief features consisting of noble sheets of water,</p>
<p>umbrageous woods, flowery meadows, enlivened by those objects so</p>
<p>essential to the harmony of landscape, cattle of every hue.</p>
<p>The gigantic and luxuriant growth of the yarra eucalyptus everywhere</p>
<p>produced fine effects; and one tree in particular pleased me so much that</p>
<p>I was tempted to draw it, although the shades of evening would scarcely</p>
<p>permit; but while thus engaged I sent my servant forward to look for some</p>
<p>hut or station that I might remain the longer to complete my drawing.</p>
<p>JUGION CREEK.</p>
<p>I arrived long after dark at a cattle-station occupied by a</p>
<p>superintendent of Mr. Henry O&#8217;Brian, near Jugion Creek on the right bank</p>
<p>of the Murrumbidgee, and there passed the night. Two considerable rivers</p>
<p>join this creek from the mountainous but fine country to the southward,</p>
<p>one being named the Coodradigbee, the other the Doomot. The higher</p>
<p>country there is granitic although, on both rivers, limestone also</p>
<p>abounds in which the corals seem to belong to Mr. Murchison&#8217;s Silurian</p>
<p>system. Favosites, Stromatopora concentrica, Heliopora pyriformis, and</p>
<p>stems of crinoidea are found loosely about the surface. There is also a</p>
<p>large rock of haematite under Mount Jellula.</p>
<p>BRUNONIA ABUNDANT.</p>
<p>October 29.</p>
<p>The road led us this day over some hilly country of a rather poor</p>
<p>description, but the beautiful flower Brunonia grew so abundantly that</p>
<p>the surface exhibited the unusual and delicate tint of ultramarine blue.</p>
<p>I was tempted once more to forsake the road in order to ascend a range</p>
<p>which it crossed in hopes of being able to see, from some lofty summit</p>
<p>thereof, points of the country I had left, and thus to connect them by</p>
<p>means of my pocket sextant with any visible points I might recognise of</p>
<p>my former trigonometrical survey. It was not however in my power to do</p>
<p>this satisfactorily, not having been able to distinguish any of the</p>
<p>latter.</p>
<p>YASS PLAINS.</p>
<p>Towards evening I drew near Yass Plains and was not a little struck with</p>
<p>their insignificance as compared with those of the south. A township had</p>
<p>been marked out here, and the comfortable establishments of various</p>
<p>wealthy colonists evinced, by their preference of these plains, that they</p>
<p>considered them the best part of a very extensive district.</p>
<p>THE GAP, AN INN.</p>
<p>Mr. Cornelius O&#8217;Brien had invited me to his house and afterwards</p>
<p>furnished me with a supply of provisions for my party; but I carried my</p>
<p>own despatches, and a much shorter route led to the left by which I could</p>
<p>divide the way better in continuing my ride to the Gap, a small inn where</p>
<p>I arrived at a very late hour, the road having been soft, uneven, and</p>
<p>wholly through a dreary wood.</p>
<p>The noise and bustle of the house was quite refreshing to one who had</p>
<p>dwelt so long in deserts, although it seemed to promise little</p>
<p>accommodation, for there had been races in the neighbourhood and horses</p>
<p>lay about the yard. Nevertheless the waiter and his wife cleared for my</p>
<p>accommodation a room which had been full of noisy people, and my horses</p>
<p>were soon lodged snugly in the stable. There indeed I perceived more room</p>
<p>than the house afforded, for while the guests were regaling within their</p>
<p>horses were allowed to lay about to starve outside, as if so many gypsies</p>
<p>had been about the place; no uncommon circumstance in Australia.</p>
<p>October 30.</p>
<p>In the course of my ride this morning I recognised the poor scrubby land</p>
<p>about the southern boundary of the county of Argyle, which I had surveyed</p>
<p>in 1828. The wood on it is rather open, consisting of a stunted species</p>
<p>of eucalyptus, the grass, apparently a hard species of poa, affording but</p>
<p>little nourishment. Sandstone and quartz are the predominant rocks</p>
<p>although some of the most remarkable hills consist of trap.</p>
<p>BREDALBANE PLAINS.</p>
<p>Passing at length through a gap in a low ridge of granular quartz, we</p>
<p>entered upon Bredalbane plains, consisting of three open flats of grassy</p>
<p>land circumscribed by hills of little apparent height, and extending</p>
<p>about twelve miles in the direction of this road, their average width</p>
<p>being about two miles. Deringullen ponds arise in the most southern</p>
<p>plain, and are among the most eastern heads of the Lachlan. The plains</p>
<p>are situated on the high dividing ground or water shed between the</p>
<p>streams falling eastward and westward, and had probably once been lagoons</p>
<p>of the same character as those which still distinguish other portions of</p>
<p>this dividing ground.</p>
<p>LAKE GEORGE.</p>
<p>The most remarkable of these is Lake George, about fourteen miles further</p>
<p>to the south, and which in 1828 was a sheet of water seventeen miles in</p>
<p>length and seven in breadth. There is no outlet for the waters of this</p>
<p>lake although it receives no less than four mountain streams from the</p>
<p>hills north of it, namely Turallo creek, whose highest source is fourteen</p>
<p>miles from the lake, Butmaro creek which arises in a mountain sixteen</p>
<p>miles from it, Taylor&#8217;s creek from the range on the east, six miles</p>
<p>distant, and Kenny&#8217;s creek from hills five miles distant. The southern</p>
<p>shore of this lake presents one continuous low ridge, separating its</p>
<p>waters from the head of the Yass river which would otherwise receive</p>
<p>them. The water was slightly brackish in 1828 but quite fit for use, and</p>
<p>the lake was then surrounded by dead trees of the eucalyptus measuring</p>
<p>about two feet in diameter, which also extended into it until wholly</p>
<p>covered by the water. In that wide expanse we could find no fish, and an</p>
<p>old native female said she remembered when the whole was a forest, a</p>
<p>statement supported pro tanto by the dead trees in its bed as well as by</p>
<p>the whole of the basin being in October 1836 a grassy meadow not unlike</p>
<p>the plains of Bredalbane.</p>
<p>It would be well worth the attention of a man of leisure to ascertain the</p>
<p>lowest part in the country around Lake George, at which its waters, on</p>
<p>reaching their maximum height, would overflow from its basin.</p>
<p>Several lagoons, apparently the remains of more extensive waters, occur</p>
<p>between Lake George and Bredalbane plains in the line of watershed as</p>
<p>already observed. These are named Tarrago, Mutmutbilly, and Wallagorong,</p>
<p>the latter being apparently a residuum of the lake which probably once</p>
<p>covered the three plains of Bredalbane.</p>
<p>SOIL AND ROCKS.</p>
<p>The quality of the soil now found in the patches of grassy land on the</p>
<p>margins of these lakes and lagoons depends on the nature of the high</p>
<p>ground nearest to them. The hills to the eastward of Lake George are</p>
<p>chiefly granitic. Ondyong point on its northern shore consists of</p>
<p>sandstone resembling that of the coal-measures; and the rock forming the</p>
<p>range above the western shores is of the same quality. The hills at the</p>
<p>source of Kenny&#8217;s creek consist of trap, of which rock there is also a</p>
<p>remarkable hill on the southern side of Bredalbane plains; and these</p>
<p>plains are bounded on the north by a ridge of syenite, which here forms</p>
<p>the actual division between the sources of the rivers Lachlan and</p>
<p>Wollondilly.</p>
<p>The water in the smaller lagoons westward of Lake George is perfectly</p>
<p>sweet, and the pasturage on the plains adjacent being in general very</p>
<p>good, the land is occupied by several extensive grazing establishments.</p>
<p>THE WOLLONDILLY.</p>
<p>On entering the valley of the river Wollondilly which waters Goulburn</p>
<p>plains, I was surprised to see its waters extremely low and not even</p>
<p>flowing. The poor appearance of the woods also struck me, judging by</p>
<p>comparison with the land in the south; and although the scantiness of</p>
<p>grass, also observable, might be attributed to the great number of sheep</p>
<p>and cattle fed there, I was not the less sensible of the more parched</p>
<p>aspect of the country generally.</p>
<p>GOULBURN PLAINS.</p>
<p>Goulburn Plains consist of open downs affording excellent pasturage for</p>
<p>sheep and extending twenty miles southward from the township, their</p>
<p>breadth being about ten.</p>
<p>A GARDEN.</p>
<p>I reached at twilight the house of a worthy friend, Captain Rossi, who</p>
<p>received me with great kindness and hospitality. The substantial</p>
<p>improvements which he had effected on his farm since my last visit to</p>
<p>that part of the colony evinced his skill and industry as a colonist;</p>
<p>while an extensive garden and many tasteful arrangements for domestic</p>
<p>comfort marked the residence of a gentleman. Under that hospitable roof I</p>
<p>exchanged the narrative of my wanderings for the accumulated news of</p>
<p>seven months which, with my friend&#8217;s good cheer, rendered his invitation</p>
<p>to rest my horses for one day quite irresistible.</p>
<p>October 31.</p>
<p>A walk in the garden; a visit to the shearing shed; the news of colonial</p>
<p>affairs in general; fat pullets cooked a la gastronome and some good</p>
<p>wine; had each in its turn rare charms for me.</p>
<p>PUBLIC WORKS.</p>
<p>I had arrived in a country which I had myself surveyed; and the roads and</p>
<p>towns in progress were the first fruits of these labours. I had marked</p>
<p>out in 1830 the road now before me, which I then considered the most</p>
<p>important in New South Wales as leading to the more temperate south, and</p>
<p>I had now completed it as a line of communication between Sydney and the</p>
<p>southern coasts. This important public work on which I had bestowed the</p>
<p>greatest pains by surveying the whole country between the Wollondilly and</p>
<p>Shoalhaven rivers, had been nevertheless retarded nearly two years on the</p>
<p>representations of some of the settlers, so that the part most essential</p>
<p>to be opened continued still in a half finished state.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. A petition had been got up in favour of another line said to</p>
<p>be more direct; and it is a remarkable fact that numerous signatures were</p>
<p>obtained even to such a petition, although it was found at last that the</p>
<p>line laid down after a careful survey was not only twelve chains shorter</p>
<p>than the other proposed but also avoided the steepest hills.)</p>
<p>SHOALHAVEN RIVER.</p>
<p>The Shoalhaven river flows in a ravine about 1500 feet below the common</p>
<p>level of the country between it and the Wollondilly. Precipices</p>
<p>consisting at one part of granite and at another of limestone give a</p>
<p>peculiar grandeur to the scenery of the Shoalhaven river.</p>
<p>LIMESTONE CAVERNS THERE.</p>
<p>The limestone is of a dark grey colour and contains very imperfect</p>
<p>fragments of shells. We find among the features on these lofty riverbanks</p>
<p>many remarkable hollows not unaptly termed hoppers by the country people,</p>
<p>from the water sinking into them as grain subsides in the hopper of a</p>
<p>mill. As each of these hollows terminates in a crevice leading to a</p>
<p>cavern in the limestone below, I descended into one in 1828 and</p>
<p>penetrated without difficulty to a considerable depth over slimy rocks,</p>
<p>but was forced to return because our candles were nearly exhausted. A</p>
<p>current of air met us as we descended and it might have come from some</p>
<p>crevice probably near the bed of the river. That water sometimes flowed</p>
<p>into these caverns was evident from pieces of decayed trees which had</p>
<p>been carried downwards by it to a considerable depth. I looked in vain</p>
<p>there for fossil bones, but I found projecting from the side of the</p>
<p>cavern at the lowest part I reached a very perfect specimen of coral of</p>
<p>the genus favosites.</p>
<p>COUNTY OF ST. VINCENT.</p>
<p>The country to the eastward of the Shoalhaven river, that is to say</p>
<p>between it and the sea-coast, is very wild and mountainous. The higher</p>
<p>part including Currocbilly and the Pigeon house (summits) consists of</p>
<p>sandstone passing from a fine to a coarse grain, occasionally containing</p>
<p>pebbles of quartz, and in some of the varieties numerous specks of</p>
<p>decomposed felspar. The lower parts of the same country, according to the</p>
<p>rocks seen in Yalwal creek, consist of granite, basalt, and compact</p>
<p>felspar. Nearer the coast a friable whitish sandstone affords but a poor</p>
<p>soil, except where the partial occurrence of decomposed laminated felspar</p>
<p>and gneiss produced one somewhat better. This country comprises the</p>
<p>county of St. Vincent, bounded on one side by the Shoalhaven river and on</p>
<p>the other by the sea-coast. The southern portion of that county affords</p>
<p>the greatest quantity of soil available either for cultivation or</p>
<p>pasture; although around Bateman Bay, which is its limit on the south,</p>
<p>much good land cannot be expected as Snapper Island at the entrance</p>
<p>consists of grey compact quartz only, with white veins of crystalline</p>
<p>quartz.</p>
<p>UPPER SHOALHAVEN.</p>
<p>The country on the upper part of the Shoalhaven river comprises much good</p>
<p>land. The river flows there nearly on a level with the surface and</p>
<p>resembles an English stream. The temperature at the elevation of about</p>
<p>2000 feet above the sea is so low even in summer that potatoes and</p>
<p>gooseberries, for both of which the climate of Sydney is too hot, grow</p>
<p>luxuriantly. A rich field for geological research will probably be found</p>
<p>in that neighbourhood.</p>
<p>CARWARY.</p>
<p>In a hasty ride which I took as far as Carwary in 1832, I was conducted</p>
<p>by my friend Mr. Ryrie to a remarkable cavern under white marble where I</p>
<p>found trap; a vein of ironstone of a fused appearance; a quartzose</p>
<p>ferruginous conglomerate; a calcareous tuff containing fragments of these</p>
<p>rocks; and specular iron ore in abundance near the same spot.</p>
<p>But still further southward and on the range separating the country at</p>
<p>the head of the Shoalhaven river from the ravines on the coast, I was</p>
<p>shown an antre vast which, for aught I know, may involve in its recesses</p>
<p>more of the wild and wonderful than any of the deserts idle which I have</p>
<p>since explored.</p>
<p>VAST SUBSIDENCE ON A MOUNTAIN THERE.</p>
<p>A part of the surface of that elevated country had subsided, carrying</p>
<p>trees along with it to the depth of about 400 yards, and left a yawning</p>
<p>opening about 300 yards wide resembling a gigantic quarry, at the bottom</p>
<p>of which the sunken trees continued to grow. In the eastern side of the</p>
<p>bottom of this subsidence a large opening extended under the rock and</p>
<p>seemed to lead to a subterraneous cavity of great dimensions.</p>
<p>GOULBURN TOWNSHIP.</p>
<p>November 1.</p>
<p>Taking leave of my kind host at an early hour, I continued my ride,</p>
<p>passing through the new township in which, although but few years had</p>
<p>elapsed since I had sketched its streets on paper, a number of houses had</p>
<p>already been built. The Mulwary Ponds scarcely afford sufficient water of</p>
<p>the supply of a large population there; but at the junction of this</p>
<p>channel with the Wollondilly there is a deep reach not likely to be ever</p>
<p>exhausted.</p>
<p>GREAT ROAD.</p>
<p>The road marked out between this township and Sydney led over a country</p>
<p>shut up, as already stated, between the Wollondilly and the Shoalhaven</p>
<p>rivers. These streams are distant from each other at the narrowest part</p>
<p>of the intervening surface about ten miles; and as each is bordered by</p>
<p>deep ravines the middle portion of the country between them is naturally</p>
<p>the most level, and this happens to be precisely in the direction most</p>
<p>desirable for a general line of communication between Sydney and the most</p>
<p>valuable parts of the colony to the southward.</p>
<p>TOWRANG HILL.</p>
<p>At a few miles from Goulburn the road passes by the foot of Towrang, a</p>
<p>hill whose summit I had formerly cleared of timber, leaving only one</p>
<p>tree. I thus obtained an uninterrupted view of the distant horizon, and</p>
<p>found the hill very useful afterwards in extending our survey from</p>
<p>Jellore into the higher country around Lake George. This hill consists</p>
<p>chiefly of quartz rock. At its base the new line leaves the original cart</p>
<p>track which here crossed the Wollondilly twice. I now found an</p>
<p>intermediate road in use between the old track and my half-formed road</p>
<p>which was still inaccessible at this point for want of a small bridge</p>
<p>over Towrang Creek.</p>
<p>THE WOLLONDILLY.</p>
<p>The Wollondilly pursues its course to the left, passing under the</p>
<p>southern extremity of Cockbundoon range, which extends about thirty miles</p>
<p>in a straight line from north to south, and consists of sandstone dipping</p>
<p>westward. Near the Wollondilly and a few miles from Towrang a quarry of</p>
<p>crystalline variegated marble has been recently wrought to a considerable</p>
<p>extent, and chimney-pieces, tables, etc. now ornament most good houses at</p>
<p>Sydney. This rock occurs in blocks over greenstone, and has hitherto been</p>
<p>found only in that spot.</p>
<p>WILD COUNTRY THROUGH WHICH IT FLOWS.</p>
<p>The channel of the Wollondilly continues open and accessible for a few</p>
<p>miles lower down than this, but after it is joined by the Uringalla near</p>
<p>Arthursleigh it sinks immediately into a deep ravine and is no longer</p>
<p>accessible as above, the country to the westward of it being exceedingly</p>
<p>wild and broken. The scene it presented when I stood on the pic of</p>
<p>Jellore in 1828 and commenced a general survey of this colony was of the</p>
<p>most discouraging description.* A flat horizon to a surface cracked and</p>
<p>hollowed out into the wildest ravines, deep and inaccessible; their</p>
<p>sides, consisting of perpendicular rocky cliffs, afforded but little</p>
<p>reason to suppose that it could be surveyed and divided as proposed into</p>
<p>counties, hundreds, and parishes; and still less was it likely ever to be</p>
<p>inhabited, even if such a work could be accomplished. Nevertheless it was</p>
<p>necessary in the performance of my duties that these rivers should be</p>
<p>traced, and where the surveyor pronounced them inaccessible to the chain,</p>
<p>I clambered over rocks and measured from cliff to cliff with the pocket</p>
<p>sextant. Thus had I wandered on foot by the murmuring Wollondilly,</p>
<p>sometimes passing the night in its deep dark bed with no other companions</p>
<p>than a robber and a savage. I could now look back with some satisfaction</p>
<p>on these labours in that barren field. I had encompassed those wild</p>
<p>recesses; the desired division of the rocky wastes they enclosed had</p>
<p>really been made; and if no other practical benefit was derived we had at</p>
<p>least been enabled to open ways across them to better regions beyond.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. My predecessor in office had declared the operation to be</p>
<p>impracticable in such a country; but to this general survey I was pledged</p>
<p>on accepting my appointment in London. Two other commissioners for the</p>
<p>division of the territory were each receiving a guinea a day, but yet</p>
<p>could do nothing until this survey was accomplished; and I therefore set</p>
<p>about the work with the resolution necessary for the performance of what</p>
<p>was deemed almost impossible. Universal wood, impassable ravines, a total</p>
<p>absence of artificial objects, and the consequent necessity for clearing</p>
<p>summits as stations for the theodolite were great impediments; but I made</p>
<p>the most of each station when it had once been cleared by taking an exact</p>
<p>panoramic view with the theodolite of the nameless features it commanded.</p>
<p>The accompanying facsimile of a page of my field book includes the view</p>
<p>between north and north-west, taken for the above purpose from the summit</p>
<p>of Jellore, and extends over the ravines of the Nattai to the crest of</p>
<p>the Blue Mountains. Plate 38.)</p>
<p>THE NATTAI. MOYENGULLY.</p>
<p>In the numerous ravines surrounding Jellore the little river Nattai has</p>
<p>its sources, and this wild region is the haunt and secure retreat of the</p>
<p>Nattai tribe whose chief, Moyengully, was one of my earliest aboriginal</p>
<p>friends. (See Plate 39.)</p>
<p>Marulan, the highest summit eastward of Jellore, consists of ferruginous</p>
<p>sandstone, but in the country to the northward we find syenite and</p>
<p>trap-rock. Of the latter, Nattary, a small hill north-east from Towrang</p>
<p>and distant about four miles from it, is perhaps the most remarkable. The</p>
<p>elevation of the country there is considerable (being about one thousand</p>
<p>five hundred feet above the sea on the level part) and, except near the</p>
<p>Shoalhaven and Wollondilly rivers, not much broken into ravines. It</p>
<p>contains not only fine pasture land but also much good wheat land,</p>
<p>especially towards the side of the Shoalhaven river.</p>
<p>ARRIVE AT THE LINE OF GREAT ROAD. CONVICT WORKMEN.</p>
<p>At fourteen miles from Goulburn I came upon that part of my new line of</p>
<p>great road where the works had not been impeded by those for whose</p>
<p>benefit the road was intended;* and here I found that the iron-gangs had</p>
<p>done some good service. I had now the satisfaction of travelling along a</p>
<p>road every turn of which I had studied previous to marking it out after a</p>
<p>most careful survey of the whole country.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. One of the most palpable consequences of the interruption my</p>
<p>plan experienced was that it interfered with the prospects of an</p>
<p>innkeeper whose inn had already been half built of brick in anticipation</p>
<p>of the opening of the new line.)</p>
<p>BERRIMA BRIDGE.</p>
<p>On Crawford&#8217;s creek I found that a bridge with stone buttresses had been</p>
<p>nearly completed. I had endeavoured to introduce permanent bridges of</p>
<p>stonework into this colony instead of those of wood, which were very</p>
<p>liable to be burnt and frequently required repair. We had among the</p>
<p>prisoners some tolerable stonecutters and setters but, until I had the</p>
<p>good fortune to find among the emigrants a person practically acquainted</p>
<p>with the construction of arches, their labours had never been productive</p>
<p>of much benefit to the public. The governor had readily complied with my</p>
<p>recommendation to appoint Mr. Lennox superintendent of such works; and on</p>
<p>entering the township of Berrima this evening I had the satisfaction at</p>
<p>length of crossing at least one bridge worthy of a British colony.</p>
<p>BERRIMA.</p>
<p>This town is situated on the little river Wingecarrabee, and was planned</p>
<p>by me some years before when marking out the general line of road. The</p>
<p>eligibility of the situation consists chiefly in the abundance and purity</p>
<p>of the water, and of materials for building with the vicinity of a small</p>
<p>agricultural population. I found here, on my return now, Mr. Lambie of</p>
<p>the road branch of my department, under whose immediate superintendence</p>
<p>the bridge had been erected. The walls of a gaol and courthouse were also</p>
<p>rising, and a site was ready for the church.</p>
<p>TRAP RANGE.</p>
<p>November 2.</p>
<p>A remarkable range consisting chiefly of trap-rock traverses the whole</p>
<p>country between the Wollondilly and the sea in a south-east direction</p>
<p>extending from Bullio to Kiama. The highest part is known as the</p>
<p>Mittagong range and, in laying down the new line of road, it was an</p>
<p>object of importance to avoid this range. Bowral, the highest part,</p>
<p>consists of quartz or very hard sandstone.</p>
<p>SANDSTONE COUNTRY.</p>
<p>On leaving Berrima the road traverses several low ridges of trap-rock and</p>
<p>then turns to the south-east in order to avoid the ravines of the Nattai;</p>
<p>for we again find here that ferruginous sandstone which desolates so</p>
<p>large a portion of New South Wales and, to all appearance, New Holland,</p>
<p>presenting in the interior desert plains of red sand, and on the eastern</p>
<p>side of the dividing range, a world of stone quarries and sterility. It</p>
<p>is only where trap or granite or limestone occur that the soil is worth</p>
<p>possessing, and to this extent every settler is under the necessity of</p>
<p>becoming a geologist; he must also be a geographer, that he may find</p>
<p>water and not lose himself in the bush; and it must indeed be admitted</p>
<p>that the intelligence of the native youth in all such matters is little</p>
<p>inferior to that of the aborigines.</p>
<p>The barren sandstone country is separated from the seashore by a lofty</p>
<p>range of trap-rock connected with that of Mittagong, and we accordingly</p>
<p>find an earthly paradise between that range and the seashore. The</p>
<p>Illawarra is a region in which the rich soil is buried under matted</p>
<p>creepers, tree-ferns and the luxuriant shade of a tropical vegetation</p>
<p>nourished both by streams from the lofty range and the moist breezes of</p>
<p>the sea. There a promising and extensive field for man&#8217;s industry lies</p>
<p>still uncultivated, but when the roads now partially in progress shall</p>
<p>have connected it with the rest of the colony it must become one of the</p>
<p>most certain sources of agricultural produce in New South Wales.</p>
<p>THE ILLAWARRA.</p>
<p>The sandstone on the interior side extends to the summit of the trap</p>
<p>range and its numerous ravines occasion the difficulties which have</p>
<p>hitherto excluded wheel-carriages from access to the Illawarra.</p>
<p>LUPTON&#8217;S INN.</p>
<p>To cross a country so excavated is impossible except in certain</p>
<p>directions, but the best lines these fastnesses admit of have been</p>
<p>ascertained and marked out in connection with that for the great southern</p>
<p>road, which ought to leave the present line at Lupton&#8217;s Inn. I consider</p>
<p>this the most important public work still necessary to complete the</p>
<p>system of great roads planned by me in New South Wales; but I have not</p>
<p>had means at my disposal hitherto for carrying into effect this portion</p>
<p>of the general plan.</p>
<p>From Lupton&#8217;s Inn Sydney bore north-east, yet I was obliged to turn with</p>
<p>the present road towards the north-west and to travel eleven miles over</p>
<p>unfavourable ground in a direction to the westward of north.</p>
<p>Having been engaged this day in examining the bridges and the work done</p>
<p>along the whole line, Mr. Lambie accompanying me, I did not reach the</p>
<p>house of my friend Macalister at Clifton until it was rather late, but at</p>
<p>any hour I could be sure of a hearty welcome.</p>
<p>THE RAZORBACK.</p>
<p>November 3.</p>
<p>The Razorback range is a very remarkable feature in this part of the</p>
<p>country. It is isolated, extending about eight miles in a general</p>
<p>direction between west-north-west and east-south-east, being very level</p>
<p>on some parts of the summit, and so very narrow in others, while the</p>
<p>sides are also so steep, that the name it has obtained is descriptive</p>
<p>enough.</p>
<p>FORD OF THE NEPEAN. CAMPBELLTOWN.</p>
<p>Around this trap-range lies the fertile district of the Cowpastures,</p>
<p>watered by the Nepean river. On proceeding along the road towards</p>
<p>Campbelltown we cross this river by a ford which has been paved with a</p>
<p>causeway, and we thus enter the county of Cumberland. Here trap-rock</p>
<p>still predominates, and the soil is good and appears well cultivated, but</p>
<p>there is a saltness in the surface water which renders it at some seasons</p>
<p>unfit for use. The line of great road as planned by me would pass by this</p>
<p>township (now containing 400 inhabitants) and the town might then</p>
<p>probably increase by extending towards George&#8217;s river, a stream which</p>
<p>would afford a permanent supply of good water.</p>
<p>LIVERPOOL. LANSDOWNE BRIDGE.</p>
<p>Passing through Liverpool, which has a population of 600 inhabitants and</p>
<p>is situated on the left bank of George&#8217;s river, I arrived at three miles</p>
<p>beyond that town at Lansdowne bridge, where the largest arch hitherto</p>
<p>erected in Australia had been recently built by Mr. Lennox. The necessity</p>
<p>for a permanent bridge over Prospect Creek arose from the failure of</p>
<p>several wooden structures, to the great inconvenience of the public, this</p>
<p>being really a creek rising and falling with the tide. The obstacle, and</p>
<p>the steepness of the left bank, which was considerable, have been</p>
<p>triumphantly surmounted by a noble arch of 110 feet span which carries</p>
<p>the road at a very slight inclination to the level of the opposite bank.</p>
<p>The bridge is wholly the work of men in irons who must have been fed, and</p>
<p>must consequently have cost the public just as much if they had done</p>
<p>nothing all the while; and it may be held up as a fair specimen of the</p>
<p>great advantage of convict labour in such a country when applied to</p>
<p>public works. The creek is navigable to this point and, stone being</p>
<p>abundant and of good quality on the opposite side of George&#8217;s river, one</p>
<p>gang was advantageously employed in the quarry there while another was</p>
<p>building the bridge. Mr. Lennox ably seconded my views in carrying these</p>
<p>arrangements into effect. He contrived the cranes, superintended the</p>
<p>stone cutting, and even taught the workmen; planned and erected the</p>
<p>centres for the arches and finally completed the structure itself which</p>
<p>had been opened to the public on the 26th of January.</p>
<p>Before venturing on so large a work I had employed Mr. Lennox on a</p>
<p>smaller bridge in the new pass in the ascent to the Blue Mountains, and</p>
<p>the manner in which he completed that work was such as to justify the</p>
<p>confidence with which I suggested to the government this larger</p>
<p>undertaking.</p>
<p>ARRIVE AT SYDNEY.</p>
<p>At length I arrived at Sydney and had the happiness on terminating this</p>
<p>long journey to find that all the members of my family were well,</p>
<p>although they had been much alarmed by reports of my death and the</p>
<p>destruction of my party by the savage natives of the interior.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>14 &#8211; 24 October</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-14-oct-24-oct/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-14-oct-24-oct/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 24 Oct 2010 05:15:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=473</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[October 14.
As we proceeded the broad swampy bed of this river or morass appeared on
our right for a mile, the country being still covered by an open forest
of box, having also grass enough upon it. At eight miles we approached
some low hills of clay-slate, and I ascended one to the southward of our
route from which [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>October 14.</p>
<p>As we proceeded the broad swampy bed of this river or morass appeared on</p>
<p>our right for a mile, the country being still covered by an open forest</p>
<p>of box, having also grass enough upon it. At eight miles we approached</p>
<p>some low hills of clay-slate, and I ascended one to the southward of our</p>
<p>route from which I recognised a sufficient number of previously observed</p>
<p>points to enable me to determine its relative position and theirs. On</p>
<p>this hill I found the beautiful Brownonia which we had seen before only</p>
<p>on Macquarie range beside the Lachlan. We here also met with the rare</p>
<p>Spadostylis cunninghamii, whose heart-shaped glaucous leaves so much</p>
<p>reminded us of the European euphorbias that it would have been mistaken</p>
<p>for one of them if it had not been for its shrubby habit and bright</p>
<p>yellow pea flowers.</p>
<p>PASS THROUGH FUTTER&#8217;S RANGE.</p>
<p>The country crossed beyond this hill was first undulating then hilly, and</p>
<p>at length became so much so that it was necessary to pick a way for the</p>
<p>carts with much caution. Nevertheless we at length succeeded in crossing</p>
<p>this range also at its lowest part where the hill to the northward of it,</p>
<p>already mentioned as the end of a range, bore nearly north. On reaching</p>
<p>the head of this pass the prospect before us, after winding through such</p>
<p>a labyrinth of hills, was agreeable enough. One fertile hollow led to an</p>
<p>open level country which appeared to be bounded at a great distance by</p>
<p>mountains; and I concluded that I should find in this extensive valley</p>
<p>the rivers King and Ovens. Keeping along the verdant flat (which was</p>
<p>watered by a good chain of ponds) we encamped about a mile and a half</p>
<p>beyond the pass, and I then named that feature above it Futter&#8217;s range</p>
<p>after a successful and public-spirited colonist of New South Wales.</p>
<p>IMPEDED BY A SWAMP AMONG REEDS.</p>
<p>October 15.</p>
<p>We had not proceeded more than half a mile in the general direction I</p>
<p>proposed for our route when a reedy swamp compelled me to turn northward</p>
<p>and, after travelling in that direction about a mile and a half, we found</p>
<p>the swamp on our right had produced a small stream running nearly on a</p>
<p>level with the plain. Its banks were soft and boggy, and beyond it we saw</p>
<p>through the trees extensive tracts covered with reeds. I was soon</p>
<p>compelled by the rivulet to deviate from my intended route even to the</p>
<p>westward of north until, at 10 1/2 miles, on meeting with a chain of</p>
<p>ponds falling to the eastward, I turned north-east, which bearing, at</p>
<p>less than a mile forward, again brought us upon the stream running from</p>
<p>the swamp but which was here flowing between firm banks and forming ponds</p>
<p>of some magnitude. We forded it with difficulty by crossing at two</p>
<p>points, that we might not break too much the soft earth over which it</p>
<p>flowed by the passage of all in one place.</p>
<p>JUNCTION OF THE RIVERS OVENS AND KING.</p>
<p>At two miles further on we met with another stream of less magnitude</p>
<p>flowing also to the north-west and at about a mile beyond it we reached</p>
<p>the bank of the Ovens, fortunately just below the junction of a rather</p>
<p>smaller stream which I took to be King&#8217;s river.</p>
<p>The two united formed a noble stream finely breaking up the dead levels</p>
<p>of the surrounding plains which indeed, where we approached it, formed</p>
<p>its highest bank and were there twenty-three feet above the water.</p>
<p>No time was lost in launching our boat, and we effected a passage and</p>
<p>encamped on the opposite bank before sunset, having driven all the cattle</p>
<p>and horses safely across also, although with considerable difficulty from</p>
<p>the steepness of the banks and softness of the soil at the water&#8217;s edge</p>
<p>on the side where they got to land.</p>
<p>October 16.</p>
<p>This morning the river had fallen three inches; its temperature was 59</p>
<p>degrees (of Fahrenheit) the current flowing at the rate of 1 1/4 miles</p>
<p>per hour; the mean depth two fathoms; and the width, where measured, 47</p>
<p>yards; the breadth of the river King at the junction being nearly as</p>
<p>much. The right bank to the distance of a mile and a half from the river</p>
<p>was low and alluvial, and intersected by narrow watercourses and lagoons.</p>
<p>On the alluvial flat where we crossed it stood a small isolated hill,</p>
<p>between which and the higher ground still farther back water was running,</p>
<p>apparently from a swamp, but as soon as we crossed this we reached firm</p>
<p>ground and travelled on an open forest plain for nearly eight miles.</p>
<p>ASCEND GRANITIC RANGES.</p>
<p>We then came upon a hill of granite, and from its summit I perceived that</p>
<p>we were already on the northern extremities of the high ranges we had</p>
<p>seen from the westward. After travelling some miles along the summits of</p>
<p>ridges in order to reach their connection with another range more to the</p>
<p>northward, I ascertained, on crossing the highest part of a second ridge,</p>
<p>that its northern slopes were very steep and rocky. A hill of</p>
<p>considerable height lay before us and therefore, as soon as I had</p>
<p>selected a spot for our camp in a little intervening valley, I hastened</p>
<p>to it, certainly in doubt how we should extricate the carts from the</p>
<p>rocky fastnesses before us. That summit afforded a commanding view of the</p>
<p>country beyond the granitic range, and I perceived that it was low to a</p>
<p>considerable distance northward, while the ranges beyond that extensive</p>
<p>basin seemed of no great elevation to the westward or north-west, and all</p>
<p>terminated on the level interior country where the horizon was broken by</p>
<p>only one remarkable hill which, as I afterwards learnt, was named Dingee.</p>
<p>In that direction I saw also open plains along which I thought I could</p>
<p>trace the line of the Ovens. In the lower country before me I hoped to</p>
<p>find the Murray, according to the map of Messrs. Hovell and Hume, which</p>
<p>in the two rivers we had recently passed seemed wonderfully correct.</p>
<p>LOFTY MASS NAMED MOUNT ABERDEEN.</p>
<p>I again recognised in the south and south-east some of the snowy peaks</p>
<p>formerly noticed, and I named the most lofty mass Mount Aberdeen. Beyond</p>
<p>what I considered to be the course or bed of the Murray there appeared</p>
<p>some steep ranges, to avoid which I chose a course more to the northward</p>
<p>than I should otherwise have pursued in my way towards Yass. Before I</p>
<p>returned to the camp I sought and succeeded in finding and marking out, a</p>
<p>line of route by which the carts could be conducted across these rocky</p>
<p>ranges and down to the lower country beyond them. On that range we found</p>
<p>a handsome blue flower which I had previously seen growing abundantly on</p>
<p>Bowral range near Mittagong within the present colony. We found in these</p>
<p>valleys abundance of good grass.</p>
<p>October 17.</p>
<p>We descended from the higher range without difficulty, and then crossed</p>
<p>several low ridges of quartz and clay-slate extending westward; some</p>
<p>flats of good land lay between these ridges and, at about 6 miles, we met</p>
<p>with a creek or chain of ponds. At 13 1/2 miles we entered a rich plain</p>
<p>terminating northward at a low but remarkable hill which I had observed</p>
<p>from the mountains.</p>
<p>REACH THE MURRAY.</p>
<p>The grass grew luxuriantly on this plain and after crossing and passing</p>
<p>through the forest beyond it I recognised with satisfaction the lofty</p>
<p>yarra trees and the low verdant alluvial flats of the Murray. No one</p>
<p>could have mistaken this grand feature; for the vast extent of verdant</p>
<p>margin with lofty trees and still lakes could belong to no other</p>
<p>Australian river we knew of. On descending the berg or outer bank which</p>
<p>was sloping and grassy, I found the still lagoons so numerous that I</p>
<p>could not, without very great difficulty and after a ride of nearly an</p>
<p>hour, obtain a sight of the flowing river. I found it at length running</p>
<p>bank-high and still of greater width than any other known Australian</p>
<p>river.</p>
<p>THE RIVER VERY DIFFICULT OF ACCESS.</p>
<p>The water was then just beginning to pour over its borders into the</p>
<p>alluvial margins by which I had approached it; and on the opposite side</p>
<p>the border consisted of a reedy swamp, evidently impassable and unfit for</p>
<p>a landing-place. In no direction could I find access for our carts to the</p>
<p>running stream. Deep and long winding reaches of still water shut me out,</p>
<p>either from the high berg or bank at one part, or from the flowing stream</p>
<p>at another. Returning from the river in a different direction I found, in</p>
<p>a situation where I had nearly gained as I imagined the high bank after</p>
<p>riding a mile, that a deep reach still separated me from that high bank</p>
<p>which I then saw was beyond it, so that in order to return to the carts I</p>
<p>was obliged to retrace my steps for several miles. Having got round at</p>
<p>length I ascended the hill before mentioned for the purpose of taking</p>
<p>some angles, and I found that it consisted of granite, the component</p>
<p>parts being white quartz and felspar and black mica. I named this</p>
<p>remarkable feature, probably the lowest hill of granite on the Murray,</p>
<p>Mount Ochtertyre. I had sufficient daylight left to conduct the party</p>
<p>over part of this hill to a portion of the riverbank accessible then to</p>
<p>carts by fording only one lagoon. The velocity of the Murray at the spot</p>
<p>where we could thus approach its border exceeded that of any other river</p>
<p>we had previously crossed, being at the rate of 2 1/2 miles per hour.</p>
<p>October 18.</p>
<p>At daylight this morning the boat was sent across with Burnett and Piper,</p>
<p>who landed to examine the ground within the reeds on that bank; and they</p>
<p>ascertained it was so intersected by various deep lagoons that we could</p>
<p>no longer hope to pass that way. I next went down the river in the boat</p>
<p>and found at about a mile and a half below our camp a place where I</p>
<p>thought we might effect a passage. This point was under a steep bank of</p>
<p>red earth on the opposite shore where the river seemed to be encroaching.</p>
<p>A CARRIAGE TRACK DISCOVERED.</p>
<p>We landed and endeavoured to ascertain by looking for cattle marks</p>
<p>whether any stations were near; and having heard that the flocks of the</p>
<p>settlers already extended to the Murray we proceeded northward, eager to</p>
<p>discover the tracks of civilised men. The wheels of a gig drawn by one</p>
<p>horse and accompanied by others were traced by Piper, but the impressions</p>
<p>were several months old. We walked as far as a spacious plain at some</p>
<p>distance from the river without seeing any more recent tracks; and we</p>
<p>were at length convinced that no station extended then in the immediate</p>
<p>neighbourhood. The left bank between the spot where our camp then was and</p>
<p>the crossing-place which I had selected was low though apparently firm;</p>
<p>but on landing and returning along it I met with several narrow channels</p>
<p>into which water was then flowing from the river and which afterwards</p>
<p>cost us considerable trouble to cross with our carts.</p>
<p>PASSAGE OF THE RIVER.</p>
<p>That part of the bank which I had selected for driving the cattle into</p>
<p>the river, that they might swim over, was soft and boggy, but in the</p>
<p>opposite shore where they were to go out we cut in the firm clay at the</p>
<p>base of the red cliff before mentioned a landing-place and path with</p>
<p>picks and spades, so that the cattle on reaching that side could pass</p>
<p>along the foot of the cliff to a lower part of the bank adjacent. After</p>
<p>all other obstacles had been surmounted and the best portion of the day</p>
<p>had been spent in conducting the party to within a short distance of this</p>
<p>place my horse unexpectedly sunk in what had appeared to be firm ground.</p>
<p>CATTLE.</p>
<p>This impediment the party however overcame by cutting down some brush and</p>
<p>small trees, and opening a lane through which we at length contrived to</p>
<p>bring the cattle forward to the bank. It was near sunset before they</p>
<p>could be driven into the water; yet we finally succeeded in forcing the</p>
<p>whole to swim to the other side that evening with the exception of one</p>
<p>bullock which, having got bogged, was smothered in the mud on the first</p>
<p>rush of the others into the water. The landing of some of these animals</p>
<p>on the opposite bank was attended with difficulty for they did not all</p>
<p>make for the proper place, some turning towards the bank they had left</p>
<p>and endeavouring to re-ascend it much lower down where the banks were</p>
<p>either too soft or inaccessible: others swimming straight down the stream</p>
<p>turned to parts of the opposite bank which they could not climb. With</p>
<p>these last I was prepared to contend, having taken my station in the boat</p>
<p>to watch such contingencies; and by dragging the foremost of those who</p>
<p>had swum back across the river by the horns, and those which had arrived</p>
<p>at the wrong place out with ropes; we succeeded at length in forcing all</p>
<p>that had floated too far down to land on the right bank. But the greater</p>
<p>number had got out higher up the river upon some fallen portions of the</p>
<p>red cliff instead of taking the path we had cut under it; and the footing</p>
<p>there was so slight that, as they crowded on each other, groups fell,</p>
<p>from time to time, back into the river. The last part of the operation</p>
<p>was therefore to row towards these, when Woods, who was in the boat, soon</p>
<p>induced one of the bullocks well-known to him to take the path, upon</p>
<p>which all the rest followed until they reached the grassy flat where</p>
<p>others more fortunate than themselves were already feeding. At the close</p>
<p>of this laborious day I encamped on the right bank, leaving still on the</p>
<p>other side however a small party in charge of the horses and carts. The</p>
<p>day was extremely hot and the full and flowing river gave an unusual</p>
<p>appearance of life and motion to the desert whose wearisome stillness was</p>
<p>so unvarying elsewhere. Serpents were numerous and some were seen of a</p>
<p>species apparently peculiar to this river. Here they invariably took to</p>
<p>it, and one beautiful reptile in particular, being of a golden colour</p>
<p>with red streaks, sprang from under my horse&#8217;s feet and rode upon the</p>
<p>strong current of the boiling stream, keeping abreast of us and holding</p>
<p>his head erect, as if in defiance and without once attempting to make</p>
<p>off, until he died in his glory by a shot from Roach.</p>
<p>HORSES.</p>
<p>October 19.</p>
<p>The first half of this day was required for the passage of the horses one</p>
<p>by one; and for taking the carts across. We left the boat carriage on the</p>
<p>left bank and sunk the boat in a deep lagoon on the right bank, to remain</p>
<p>there until the party should return to the spot with a stock of</p>
<p>provisions for Mr. Stapylton. Here the last mountain barometer, which had</p>
<p>been carried in excellent order throughout the journey, lost mercury so</p>
<p>copiously that I could not hope to use it any more, time being then too</p>
<p>valuable to admit of delay; and thus my list of observations terminated</p>
<p>on the Murray. I supposed that the intense heat of the sun to which the</p>
<p>instrument had been exposed when tied to a tree for some hours after the</p>
<p>tents had been struck had contracted the leathern bag so much as to</p>
<p>loosen it from the edges of the cylinder, and thus formed openings</p>
<p>through which the mercury had escaped. The breadth of the Murray was 80</p>
<p>yards at the place where we crossed it and the mean depth was 3 1/2</p>
<p>fathoms. At length I saw with great satisfaction my party on the right</p>
<p>bank of this great river; having now no other stream to cross until we</p>
<p>reached the Murrumbidgee where we might consider ourselves at home.</p>
<p>PARTY RETURNING TO MEET MR. STAPYLTON.</p>
<p>Just at this time Archibald McKane, a carpenter, came forward and</p>
<p>proposed to return with any two of the men and the native Tommy to meet</p>
<p>the party coming after us upon the Goulburn; and to construct there such</p>
<p>rafts of casks and other gear as might enable Mr. Stapylton to cross that</p>
<p>river and the Ovens and so come forward to the Murray; an arrangement</p>
<p>which would render it unnecessary for me to send back any cattle or the</p>
<p>boat as intended. I was much pleased with the proposal of McKane and,</p>
<p>Tommy Came-last being also willing to return, I appointed John Douglas, a</p>
<p>sailor and most handy man, and Charles King, a man who feared nothing, to</p>
<p>accompany McKane. Full rations were issued to the four and, having given</p>
<p>them a letter for Mr. Stapylton, the little party returned towards the</p>
<p>houseless wilds, when we left the Murray to continue our journey</p>
<p>homewards. Although we did not set off before one o&#8217;clock we this day</p>
<p>travelled fourteen miles, but did not encamp till long after sunset. The</p>
<p>scarcity of water compelled us to travel thus far, for none had been seen</p>
<p>except one small muddy pool until I reached the valley where we encamped,</p>
<p>and even there we found little more than enough for ourselves and cattle.</p>
<p>October 20.</p>
<p>After travelling five miles over tolerable land we crossed a range of</p>
<p>very fine-grained granite consisting of felspar, quartz, and small</p>
<p>particles of mica and having a very crystalline aspect. This range was a</p>
<p>branch from a higher mass on our right. At seven miles we crossed the</p>
<p>shoulder of a hill whence I intersected others to the right. This also</p>
<p>consisted of fine-grained granite, similar to that of the other hill, but</p>
<p>it was not so red and had fewer spangles of mica.</p>
<p>A CREEK TERMINATING IN A SWAMP.</p>
<p>At eight miles we came to a chain of deep ponds which seemed a tributary</p>
<p>to some greater water, as indicated by the yarra trees and flats before</p>
<p>us, apparently covered with verdure. On advancing into these flats</p>
<p>however we found them soft and swampy, being so very wet and so covered</p>
<p>with dead trees that we were obliged to retrace our steps and turn</p>
<p>eastward, thus crossing to a higher bank altogether east of the chain of</p>
<p>ponds; and along this we proceeded without seeing any further continuance</p>
<p>of the deep serpentine channel, full of water, which appeared to</p>
<p>terminate there. That woody swamp seemed very extensive and was the only</p>
<p>instance met with in the course of our travels of the termination of a</p>
<p>stream in a swamp, although I understood subsequently that this was the</p>
<p>fate of various minor brooks descending towards that part of the interior</p>
<p>plains. We found there a curious black-headed grass which proved to be of</p>
<p>the carex genus. At 11 1/2 miles we arrived at a running stream, its</p>
<p>course being northward; and at 15 1/2 miles we reached a very fine little</p>
<p>rivulet flowing between grassy banks twenty-five feet high, the soil</p>
<p>consisting of a red earth similar to that on the interior plains and the</p>
<p>banks of the Murray.</p>
<p>MOUNT TRAFALGAR. RUGGED COUNTRY STILL BEFORE US.</p>
<p>October 21.</p>
<p>At five miles we were abreast of a pointed hill which I ascended and</p>
<p>named Mount Trafalgar in honour of that memorable day. From it I obtained</p>
<p>a view of the country before us, and I perceived in the direction of our</p>
<p>intended route some high cone-shaped hills. A ridge extended from them to</p>
<p>the westward, but its height seemed gradually to diminish in that</p>
<p>direction, although it presented two very abrupt and remarkable hills</p>
<p>whose steepest side being towards the north overlooked as I supposed the</p>
<p>spacious basin of the Murrumbidgee. One solitary mount appeared much</p>
<p>farther to the westward and was also steep-sided towards the north. On</p>
<p>descending I shaped my course towards the hollow where the ridge could be</p>
<p>most easily crossed. At 8 3/4 miles we met with some good ponds of water</p>
<p>and beyond them the winding channel of a smaller watercourse falling</p>
<p>southward from the range already mentioned. After crossing and recrossing</p>
<p>this channel and its various branches we at length gained the crest of</p>
<p>the range, and I directed the party to halt while I hastened to a conical</p>
<p>summit on the left, apparently the highest and most pointed of those</p>
<p>previously observed. It consisted of syenite and from it I obtained a</p>
<p>very extensive view to the northward, but yet could not see any</p>
<p>favourable opening in the direction in which I wished to reach the</p>
<p>Murrumbidgee: on the contrary as we reduced our distance from home the</p>
<p>obstacles to our reaching it seemed to increase.</p>
<p>PROVISIONS NEARLY EXHAUSTED.</p>
<p>Our provisions had been counted out to a day, and any delay beyond the</p>
<p>time required to cross that country at our usual rate of travelling might</p>
<p>have been attended with great inconvenience. Mr. Stapylton&#8217;s party, then</p>
<p>so far behind, were depending upon us for supplies; while a labyrinth of</p>
<p>mountains, entirely without roads or inhabitants, was to be crossed in a</p>
<p>limited time with carts before any such supplies could be obtained and</p>
<p>sent back. Some high and distant mountains appeared to the eastward, and</p>
<p>in the west I intersected the hills I had previously seen which were now</p>
<p>much nearer to us. On returning from the hill to the party we descended</p>
<p>from the range into some flats of good open land where a solitary</p>
<p>kangaroo became an object of intense interest now that our provisions</p>
<p>were exhausted. The week was out for which the last of our stock had been</p>
<p>issued in very small rations; and although most of the men had</p>
<p>endeavoured to make this very reduced week&#8217;s allowance to last them nine</p>
<p>days no mutton remained, nor could it well have been preserved during</p>
<p>such hot weather. This kangaroo would have been therefore a most welcome</p>
<p>addition to our store; but we had no dogs and I was so anxious as to</p>
<p>venture a shot at too great a distance and to our great disappointment it</p>
<p>escaped. We finally encamped in a valley which fell to the right or</p>
<p>eastward, near some good ponds, and after performing a journey of upwards</p>
<p>of 15 miles. I found near the hill I first ascended in the morning a new</p>
<p>kind of grass with large seeds.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. Danthonia eriantha, Lindley manuscripts; panicula</p>
<p>subcoarctata lanceolata, spiculis sub-4-floris gluma laevi multo</p>
<p>brevioribus, palea exteriori laevigata basi apiceque villosissima,</p>
<p>aristis lateralibus subulatis debilibus intermedia brevioribus, foliis</p>
<p>setaceis vaginisque patentim pilosis, collo barbato.)</p>
<p>October 22.</p>
<p>Soon after we set out this morning we approached a range of barren hills</p>
<p>of clay-slate on which grew the grass tree (xanthorrhoea) and stunted</p>
<p>eucalypti. On ascending this range I perceived before me a deep ravine,</p>
<p>and beyond it hills less promising than even these which were</p>
<p>sufficiently repulsive to travellers with wheel-carriages. Turning</p>
<p>therefore from that hopeless prospect towards the eastward, we crossed</p>
<p>the head of a valley falling to the right, and after a somewhat tortuous</p>
<p>course we gained the highest part of a range beyond it, from which a</p>
<p>grassy vale descended on the opposite side towards the north-east. This</p>
<p>vale turned to the left after we had followed it 2 1/4 miles and we next</p>
<p>crossed a ridge of quartz rock.</p>
<p>CATTLE TRACKS FOUND.</p>
<p>Beyond the ridge the natives found some old cattle tracks and this</p>
<p>intelligence very much pleased and encouraged the men.</p>
<p>BURNETT&#8217;S RIVULET.</p>
<p>At two miles farther on we came upon a little rivulet flowing to the</p>
<p>westward through a good grassy valley, and it was joined about the place</p>
<p>where we came upon it by one coming from the south. The stream washed the</p>
<p>base of a lofty mountain which I ascended while the people were passing</p>
<p>our carts, cattle, and equipment across the rivulet which I named after</p>
<p>my trusty follower Burnett.* The mountain consisted of granite and was so</p>
<p>smooth that I could ride to its summit. The weather was boisterous and</p>
<p>the country which that height presented to my view seemed quite</p>
<p>inaccessible, at least in the direction of the colony where:</p>
<p>Hills upon hills and alps on alps arose.</p>
<p>(Footnote. See figure with the fowling-piece in Plate 17 Volume 1.)</p>
<p>IMPEDIMENTS IN THE ROUTE.</p>
<p>The only valley of any extent which could be seen was that watered by the</p>
<p>rivulet below, and this extended, as I have stated, to the westward, a</p>
<p>direction in which we could not follow it with any prospect of either</p>
<p>getting nearer home or reaching a cattle station. Our provisions were</p>
<p>exhausted, while the rocky fastnesses of a mountain region still</p>
<p>threatened to shut us out from the Murrumbidgee, a river on whose banks</p>
<p>we hoped to meet with civilised people once more and which, according to</p>
<p>the map, was almost within our reach. Again and again I examined the</p>
<p>mountains with my glass, and only discovered that they were numerous and</p>
<p>all ranging towards the north-west, a direction right across our way to</p>
<p>the Murrumbidgee. I could indeed trace among the hills in the north the</p>
<p>grand valley through which the river flowed, but the intervening ranges</p>
<p>seemed to deny any access to it from this side. I was determined however</p>
<p>to find some valley likely to lead us into that of the Murrumbidgee, and</p>
<p>although it could only be looked for beyond that mountain range, our</p>
<p>route had been so good and so direct thus far, from the very shores of</p>
<p>the southern ocean, that I could not despair of crossing the</p>
<p>comparatively small space occupied by these mountains; and I descended</p>
<p>the hill firmly resolved to continue our course in the same direction as</p>
<p>we best could. I found on reaching the foot that, to the delight of the</p>
<p>men, more cattle marks had been discovered in the valley, and in one</p>
<p>place Piper pointed out a spot where a bullock had been eaten by the</p>
<p>natives. Following the little stream upwards I at length placed our camp</p>
<p>in a grassy valley near its head and then, on riding forward, I found</p>
<p>that no obstruction existed to our progress with the carts on the</p>
<p>following day for at least several miles.</p>
<p>October 23.</p>
<p>The hills we ascended offered much less impediment than I had reason to</p>
<p>apprehend when I surveyed them at a distance, but they became at length</p>
<p>so steep-sided and sharp-pointed that to proceed further, even by keeping</p>
<p>the crests of a range, seemed a very doubtful undertaking: to cross such</p>
<p>ranges was still more difficult while the principal chain, which led to</p>
<p>the south-east, appeared equally impracticable even had its direction</p>
<p>been more favourable.</p>
<p>AT LENGTH REACH A VALLEY LEADING IN THE DESIRED DIRECTION.</p>
<p>Drizzling rain came on and prevented me from seeing far beyond the point</p>
<p>we had reached when I at length halted the party and, taking Piper with</p>
<p>me, descended into a valley before us in order to ascertain its general</p>
<p>direction and whether the carts might not pass along it. We found in this</p>
<p>valley the tracks not of cattle only but of well shod horses: we also</p>
<p>discovered that it opened into extensive green flats and, its direction</p>
<p>being northerly, I hastened back and conducted the party into it by the</p>
<p>best line of descent I could find, although it was certainly very steep.</p>
<p>Having got safe down with our carts we found excellent pasturage, the</p>
<p>cattle marks being very numerous and at length quite fresh, even the</p>
<p>print of young calves&#8217; feet appeared, and all the traces of a numerous</p>
<p>herd.</p>
<p>WILD CATTLE SEEN.</p>
<p>In short cattle tracks resembling roads ran along the banks of the chain</p>
<p>of ponds which watered this valley; and at length the welcome sight of</p>
<p>the cattle themselves delighted our longing eyes, not to mention our</p>
<p>stomachs which were then in the best possible state to assist our</p>
<p>perceptions of the beauty of a foreground of fat cattle. We were soon</p>
<p>surrounded by a staring herd consisting of at least 800 head, and I took</p>
<p>a shot at one; but my ball only made him jump, upon which the whole body,</p>
<p>apparently very wild, made off to the mountains.</p>
<p>OBLIGED TO KILL ONE OF OUR WORKING BULLOCKS.</p>
<p>Symptoms of famine now began to show themselves in the sullenness of some</p>
<p>of the men, and I most reluctantly allowed them to kill one of our poor</p>
<p>working animals, which was accordingly shot as soon as we encamped and</p>
<p>divided amongst the party.</p>
<p>BY FOLLOWING THE VALLEY DOWNWARDS, WE ARRIVE ON THE MURRUMBIDGEE.</p>
<p>The valley preserved a course somewhat to the westward of north, and I</p>
<p>now felt confident that by following it downwards we should reach the</p>
<p>Murrumbidgee without meeting further impediment. This unexpected relief</p>
<p>from the hopeless prospects of the drizzling morning was infinitely more</p>
<p>refreshing to me than any kind of food could possibly have been, even</p>
<p>under such circumstances.</p>
<p>October 24.</p>
<p>As we continued our journey downwards the waterholes in the chain of</p>
<p>ponds became small and scarce, while we found the cattle-tracks more and</p>
<p>more numerous. No change took place in the character of the valley for</p>
<p>nine miles; but I recognised then at no great distance the hills which on</p>
<p>the 22nd I had supposed to lie beyond the Murrumbidgee. On riding to a</p>
<p>small eminence on the right I perceived the dark umbrageous trees</p>
<p>overshadowing that noble river, and close before me the rich open flats</p>
<p>with tame cattle browsing upon them, or reclining in luxuriant ease, very</p>
<p>unlike the wild herd. The river was flowing westward over a gravelly</p>
<p>bottom, its scenery being highly embellished by the lofty casuarinae,</p>
<p>whose sombre masses of darkest green cover the water so gracefully and</p>
<p>afford both coolness and shade. Now we could trace the marks of horsemen</p>
<p>on the plain; and as we travelled up the river horses and cattle appeared</p>
<p>on both banks. At length we discovered a small house or station and a</p>
<p>stockyard. On riding up to it an old man came to the door, beating the</p>
<p>ashes from a loaf nearly two feet in diameter. His name was Billy Buckley</p>
<p>and the poor fellow received us all with the most cordial welcome,</p>
<p>supplying us at once with two days&#8217; provisions until we could send across</p>
<p>the river for a supply. Just then several drays appeared on the opposite</p>
<p>side, coming along the ROAD from Sydney, and these drays contained a</p>
<p>supply from which Mr. Tompson the owner accommodated me with enough to</p>
<p>send back to meet Mr. Stapylton on the banks of the Murray.</p>
<p>WRITE MY DESPATCH.</p>
<p>Having pitched my tent close by the house of my new friend Billy, I wrote</p>
<p>a brief account of our proceedings to the government while my horses were</p>
<p>permitted to rest two days preparatory to my long ride to Sydney.</p>
<p>PIPER MEETS HIS FRIENDS.</p>
<p>Piper&#8217;s joy on emerging from the land of Myalls (or savages) was at least</p>
<p>as great as ours, especially when he met here with natives of his</p>
<p>acquaintance&#8211;&#8221;CIVIL blackfellows,&#8221; as he styled them, bel (not) Myalls.</p>
<p>He was at least a Triton among the minnows, and it was pleasant to see</p>
<p>how much he enjoyed his lionship among his brethren. Little Ballandella</p>
<p>had been taken great care of by Mrs. Piper and was now feasted with milk</p>
<p>and seemed quite happy.</p>
<p>NATIVE NAMES OF RIVERS.</p>
<p>I learnt from the natives we found here their names for the greater</p>
<p>rivers we had passed, and of some of the isolated hills. Everywhere the</p>
<p>Murray was known as the Millewa; but I was not so sure about Bayunga, a</p>
<p>name which I had understood to apply to the Goulburn, Hovell or Ovens.</p>
<p>A STOCK-KEEPER&#8217;S HOSPITALITY.</p>
<p>When Billy Buckley, who was only a stockkeeper at that station, saw my</p>
<p>party arrive and was at length aware who we were, he came to me when</p>
<p>enjoying a quiet walk on the riverbank at some distance from his house,</p>
<p>carrying in his hand a jug of rich milk and a piece of bread which I</p>
<p>afterwards learnt, with dismay, had been baked in butter. I felt bound in</p>
<p>civility to partake of both, but the consequence was an illness which</p>
<p>very much interfered with my enjoyment of that luxuriant repose I had</p>
<p>anticipated in my tent, under the shade of the casuarinae on the brink of</p>
<p>the living stream.</p>
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		<title>September &#8211; October</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/sept-october/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/sept-october/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 19 Oct 2010 04:58:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>eliza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Eliza Tree]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=481</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Back on the road again, Again,
Again!
Sorry for the break in correspondence,
But having returned to the road a few weeks ago,
To continue South-west through Victoria,
from Mt Hope to Willaura, then on to Castlemaine.
Via: Pyramid Hill, Boort, Mt Korong, Wedderburn, Logan, Callawadda,  Stawell, Pomonal, Mt William, Gariwerd/ Grampians, Mt Zero, Nattimuck, Mt Arapiles, Casterton, Dartmoor, Glenelg [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Back on the road again, Again,<br />
Again!</p>
<p>Sorry for the break in correspondence,<br />
But having returned to the road a few weeks ago,<br />
To continue South-west through Victoria,<br />
from Mt Hope to Willaura, then on to Castlemaine.</p>
<p>Via: Pyramid Hill, Boort, Mt Korong, Wedderburn, Logan, Callawadda,  Stawell, Pomonal, Mt William, Gariwerd/ Grampians, Mt Zero, Nattimuck, Mt Arapiles, Casterton, Dartmoor, Glenelg River, Nelson, Portland, Milltown, Heywood, Mount Napier, Hamilton, Condah, Dunkeld, Willaura, Buangor, Lexton, Talbot., Mt Greenock, Tullaroop Creek, and Newstead.</p>
<p>A wonderful 3 weeks it was,<br />
Glowing green after all this amazing rain!!<br />
Frogs singing, birds dancing,<br />
Nature blooming.<br />
Great photos coming soon.</p>
<p>I then proceeded to have,<br />
what turned out to be<br />
a fairly Major Computer Meltdown.</p>
<p>Returned to Castlemaine,<br />
Not for 3 days, but 9.<br />
- also: sore back, doggy funeral for tricky miss vikki, doctor, etc.<br />
Car exhaust problems.<br />
Finally, all fixed and Sorted.</p>
<p>Many, many, many thanks to:<br />
Fabulous and supportive friend &amp; mentor Simon,<br />
brilliant Apple Mac friend Tony.<br />
Excellent mechanic Daz,<br />
Jude and Co.</p>
<p>Still, it&#8217;s hard not to get<br />
a bit Exhausted by all the Technicalities!!!</p>
<p>Had a great weekend in Castlemaine,<br />
Excellent talk at Ray Bradfield room, Fri Night,<br />
And enjoyable &#8211; shortened walk on Saturday,<br />
When at Kalimna Point, the rain set in.<br />
Headed for Mt Alexander, as it cleared.</p>
<p>Good progress also with home Renos,<br />
thankyou Simon.</p>
<p>and<br />
I am back Track on again.</p>
<p>There&#8217;s so much to say,<br />
And I&#8217;m never quite sure where to start.</p>
<p>To be honest.<br />
It&#8217;s all a tiny bit Overwhelming!</p>
<p>It&#8217;s been Fab, and amazing<br />
- Adventure, Journey, Expedition.<br />
I&#8217;m Loving it.<br />
All of my interests and passions combined.<br />
Indigenous, Environment, Art, Nature.<br />
Expeditioning.</p>
<p>and There is So much to do<br />
And, So Much to Organize!!</p>
<p>The Major Mitchell Expedition to Australia Felix,<br />
is about to hit 175 years!!<br />
- next year<br />
1836  &#8211; 2011</p>
<p>Currently the organising team consists of 70% Eliza Tree,<br />
With the other 30 % of the committee being Indigo, Simon &amp; Jude.<br />
Each providing fabulous and essential support,<br />
- Thankyou Team.!</p>
<p>And yes, So much to Organize.</p>
<p>An interesting time for Reflection<br />
and &#8211; Exploration.<br />
But I also think:  good time to Re-Visit.</p>
<p>And I am,<br />
And I willl,<br />
In &#8216;the Expedition Exhibition.&#8217;<br />
Castlemaine State Festival,<br />
April 2011.</p>
<p>So now,<br />
As well as finishing the Journey,<br />
I have begun the exciting process of painting my Exhibition,<br />
Which is to be a &#8216;Visual Narrative&#8217;<br />
: the land, the People, the exploring party.<br />
the birds, plants and animals.<br />
Geology, Ecology, Biology.<br />
Looking closely at Mitchell&#8217; images and words.<br />
Contextualising and revealing.</p>
<p>There is much to Say and Paint!</p>
<p>As well,<br />
there is next year to Organize.<br />
The commemoration/ recognition  of 175 years,<br />
Since T L Mitchell passed through these fine lands,<br />
Which had been occupied since time immemorial,<br />
by the Indigenous Peoples,<br />
Living with knowledge and skill,<br />
within their Cultural Landscape.</p>
<p>So, next year I will re-do the journey,<br />
And bring a travelling Party with me..<br />
to share it with the communities,<br />
There are many interesting and colourful stories to be told.<br />
Great sites to visit,<br />
Ideas to be explored.</p>
<p>And / so<br />
Tomorrow I will return to the &#8216;road&#8217;,<br />
Passing through another  part of Jaara Jaara country.</p>
<p>And then on to Sydney,<br />
Via Mitchell&#8217;s more direct,<br />
homeward route.</p>
<p>-in this case: Via: Orange, Mt Canobolas &amp; Boree,<br />
to meet with the IWC Media.<br />
And the Mitchellites,<br />
To oraganise for next year!</p>
<p>..more soon…… eT</p>
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		<title>8 &#8211; 14 October</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-8-oct-14-oct/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-8-oct-14-oct/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 13 Oct 2010 05:14:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=471</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[CONTINUE THROUGH A LEVEL FOREST COUNTRY.
October 9.
Having buried on the left bank another letter of instructions for Mr.
Stapylton according to certain marks as previously arranged with him, we
mounted our boat on the carriage (which had been brought across early in
the morning) and continued our journey. I expected to find a ford in this
river but, considering [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>CONTINUE THROUGH A LEVEL FOREST COUNTRY.</p>
<p>October 9.</p>
<p>Having buried on the left bank another letter of instructions for Mr.</p>
<p>Stapylton according to certain marks as previously arranged with him, we</p>
<p>mounted our boat on the carriage (which had been brought across early in</p>
<p>the morning) and continued our journey. I expected to find a ford in this</p>
<p>river but, considering the swollen state in which it then was, I</p>
<p>instructed Mr. Stapylton to remain encamped on the left bank until the</p>
<p>boat should return from the Murray, as beyond that river we were not</p>
<p>likely to have further occasion for it. Our way on leaving the Bayunga</p>
<p>was rather intricate, being amongst lagoons left by high floods of the</p>
<p>river. Some of them were fine sheets of water, apparently much frequented</p>
<p>by ducks and other aquatic birds.</p>
<p>LEVEL FOREST COUNTRY.</p>
<p>At exactly 2 1/2 miles from the river we reached the outer bank or berg,</p>
<p>and resumed at length the straight course homewards, for I there found a</p>
<p>level forest country open before me, through which we travelled about</p>
<p>eight miles in a south-east direction. We then encamped near some</p>
<p>waterholes which I found on our right, in the surface of a clay soil and</p>
<p>close to a plain extending southward. The wood throughout the forest</p>
<p>consisted of the box or goborro species of eucalyptus and we crossed,</p>
<p>soon after first entering it, a small plain. At 3 1/2 miles from the last</p>
<p>camp on this line, the low alluvial bed of the river with a deep lagoon</p>
<p>in it as broad as the river itself appeared close to us on the left; and</p>
<p>as I had seen some indications of the Bayunga on the other side also, or</p>
<p>to our right, it was obvious that we had just met with this river at one</p>
<p>of its most western bends, an object I had in view in following down the</p>
<p>Deegay from the westward. The forest country traversed by the party this</p>
<p>day was in general grassy and good and, as it was open enough to afford a</p>
<p>prospect of about a mile around us, we travelled on in a straight line</p>
<p>with unwonted ease and facility.</p>
<p>October 10.</p>
<p>We continued our journey homeward through a country of the same character</p>
<p>as that seen yesterday, at least for the first five miles, when we came</p>
<p>at length to a chain of deep ponds, the second we had encountered that</p>
<p>morning. In the bank of this I found a stratum of alluvium; but beyond it</p>
<p>the soil was granitic, and banksia was seen there for the first time</p>
<p>after crossing the river. At 7 1/4 miles we met with another chain of</p>
<p>large ponds, and at 9 miles a running stream flowing to the north-west.</p>
<p>After passing over various other chains of ponds we encamped at the end</p>
<p>of 14 1/2 miles near the bank of a running stream in which were also some</p>
<p>deep pools and which, from some flowers growing there, were named by the</p>
<p>men Violet Ponds.</p>
<p>October 11.</p>
<p>Having turned my course a little more towards the east in order to keep</p>
<p>the hills in view, chiefly for the more convenient continuance of the</p>
<p>survey, we passed through a country abundantly watered at that time, the</p>
<p>party having crossed eight running streams besides chains of ponds in</p>
<p>travelling only 14 miles. Towards the end of the day&#8217;s journey we found</p>
<p>ourselves once more on undulating ground, and I at length perceived on my</p>
<p>right that particular height which, at a distance of 80 miles back, I had</p>
<p>selected as a guiding point in the direction which then appeared the most</p>
<p>open part of the horizon, this being also in the best line for reaching</p>
<p>the Murrumbidgee below Yass. It was the elevated northern extremity of a</p>
<p>range connected with others still more lofty which arose to the</p>
<p>south-east. We crossed some undulating ground near its base on which grew</p>
<p>trees of stringybark, a species of eucalyptus which had not been</p>
<p>previously seen in the forests traversed by us in our way from the river.</p>
<p>We next entered a valley of a finer description of land than that of the</p>
<p>level forest; and we encamped on the bank of a stream which formed deep</p>
<p>reedy ponds, having travelled 14 miles.</p>
<p>As soon as I had marked out the ground for the party I proceeded towards</p>
<p>a hill which bore east-south-east from our camp and was distant from it</p>
<p>about 5 1/2 miles. On our way an emu ran boldly up, apparently desirous</p>
<p>of becoming acquainted with our horses; when close to us it stood still</p>
<p>and began quietly to feed like a domestic fowl so that I was at first</p>
<p>unwilling to take a shot at the social and friendly bird. The state of</p>
<p>our flour however, and the recollection of our one remaining sheep</p>
<p>already doomed to die, at length overcame my scruples, and I fired my</p>
<p>carabine but missed. The bird ran only to a little distance however, and</p>
<p>soon returned at a rapid rate again to feed beside us when, fortunately</p>
<p>perhaps for the emu, I had no more time to spare for such sport and we</p>
<p>proceeded.</p>
<p>ASCEND A HEIGHT NEAR THE CAMP, AND OBTAIN A SIGHT OF SNOWY SUMMITS TO THE EASTWARD.</p>
<p>The top of the hill was covered thickly with wood, but I saw for the</p>
<p>first time for some years snowy pics far in the south-east beyond</p>
<p>intermediate mountains also of considerable elevation. There was one low</p>
<p>group of heights to the northward, but these were apparently the last,</p>
<p>for the dead level of the interior was visible beyond them to the</p>
<p>north-west. Further eastward a bold range extended too far towards the</p>
<p>north to be turned conveniently by us in our proposed route; but under</p>
<p>its high southern extremity (a very remarkable point) its connection with</p>
<p>the mountains on the south appeared very low, and thither I determined to</p>
<p>proceed. One isolated hill far in the north-western interior had already</p>
<p>proved a useful point and was still visible here. I also saw the distant</p>
<p>ranges to the eastward beyond the proposed pass just mentioned, and some</p>
<p>of these I had no doubt lay beyond the Murray. The hill and range I had</p>
<p>ascended consisted of granite, and the country between it and our camp of</p>
<p>grassy open forest land.</p>
<p>October 12.</p>
<p>We passed over a country of similar description and well watered</p>
<p>throughout the greater portion of this day&#8217;s journey. In some parts the</p>
<p>surface consisted of stiff clay retaining the surface water in holes, and</p>
<p>at ten miles we crossed an undulating ridge of quartz rock; two miles</p>
<p>beyond which we encamped near a stream running northward.</p>
<p>REACH A SWAMPY RIVER.</p>
<p>October 13.</p>
<p>At 3 1/4 miles we came to a river of very irregular width and which, as I</p>
<p>found on further examination, spread into broad lagoons and swamps</p>
<p>bordered with reeds. Where we first approached it the bank was high and</p>
<p>firm, the water forming a broad reach evidently very deep. But both above</p>
<p>and below that point the stream, actually flowing, seemed fordable and we</p>
<p>tried it in various places, but the bottom was everywhere soft and</p>
<p>swampy.</p>
<p>A MAN DROWNED.</p>
<p>The man whom I usually employed on these occasions was James Taylor who</p>
<p>had charge of the horses and who, on this unfortunate morning, was fated</p>
<p>to lose his life in that swampy river. Taylor, or Tally-ho, as the other</p>
<p>men called him, had been brought up in a hunting stable in England, and</p>
<p>was always desirous of going further than I was willing to allow him,</p>
<p>relying too much, as it now appeared, on his skill in swimming his horse,</p>
<p>which I had often before prevented him from doing. I had on this occasion</p>
<p>recalled him from different parts of the river, and determined to use the</p>
<p>boat and swim the cattle and horses to the other side, when Tally-ho</p>
<p>proposed to swim over on a horse in order to ascertain where the opposite</p>
<p>bank was most favourable for the cattle to get out. I agreed to his</p>
<p>crossing thus wherever he thought he could; and he rode towards a place</p>
<p>which I conceived was by no means the best, and accordingly said so to</p>
<p>him. I did not hear his reply, for he was just then riding into the</p>
<p>water, and I could no longer see him from where I stood on the edge of a</p>
<p>swampy hole. But scarcely a minute had elapsed when Burnett, going on</p>
<p>foot to the spot, called out for all the men who could dive, at the same</p>
<p>time exclaiming &#8220;the man&#8217;s gone!&#8221; The horse came out with the bridle on</p>
<p>his neck just as I reached the water&#8217;s edge, but of poor Tally-ho I saw</p>
<p>only the cap floating on the river. Four persons were immediately in the</p>
<p>water&#8211;Piper, his gin, and two whites&#8211;and at six or eight minutes at</p>
<p>most Piper brought the body up from the bottom. It was quite warm and</p>
<p>immediately almost all the means recommended in such cases were applied</p>
<p>by our medical attendant (Drysdale) who, having come from</p>
<p>Newcastle-upon-Tyne, had seen many cases of that description. For three</p>
<p>hours the animal heat was preserved by chafing the body, and during the</p>
<p>whole of that time the lungs were alternately inflated and compressed,</p>
<p>but all without success. With a sincerity of grief which must always</p>
<p>pervade the breasts of men losing one of their number under such</p>
<p>circumstances, we consigned the body of poor Taylor to a deep grave, the</p>
<p>doctor having previously laid it out between two large sheets of bark. I</p>
<p>was myself confounded with the most heart-felt sorrow when I turned from</p>
<p>the grave of poor Tally-ho, never to hear his bugle blast again.* It was</p>
<p>late before we commenced the passage of this fatal river which, although</p>
<p>apparently narrow, we could only cross in the same manner in which we had</p>
<p>passed the largest, namely, by swimming the cattle and horses, and</p>
<p>carrying every article of equipment across in the boat. We effected even</p>
<p>thus however the passage of the whole party before sunset; and then</p>
<p>encamped on the opposite bank.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. How this man could have died in the water in so short a time</p>
<p>we did not understand, but it was conjectured that he had received some</p>
<p>blow from the horse, until we were subsequently informed when on the</p>
<p>Murrumbidgee by a person there who knew Taylor that he was subject to</p>
<p>fits, a fact which satisfied us all as to the sudden manner of his</p>
<p>death.)</p>
<p>October 14.</p>
<p>As we proceeded the broad swampy bed of this river or morass appeared on</p>
<p>our right for a mile, the country being still covered by an open forest</p>
<p>of box, having also grass enough upon it. At eight miles we approached</p>
<p>some low hills of clay-slate, and I ascended one to the southward of our</p>
<p>route from which I recognised a sufficient number of previously observed</p>
<p>points to enable me to determine its relative position and theirs. On</p>
<p>this hill I found the beautiful Brownonia which we had seen before only</p>
<p>on Macquarie range beside the Lachlan. We here also met with the rare</p>
<p>Spadostylis cunninghamii, whose heart-shaped glaucous leaves so much</p>
<p>reminded us of the European euphorbias that it would have been mistaken</p>
<p>for one of them if it had not been for its shrubby habit and bright</p>
<p>yellow pea flowers.</p>
<p>PASS THROUGH FUTTER&#8217;S RANGE.</p>
<p>The country crossed beyond this hill was first undulating then hilly, and</p>
<p>at length became so much so that it was necessary to pick a way for the</p>
<p>carts with much caution. Nevertheless we at length succeeded in crossing</p>
<p>this range also at its lowest part where the hill to the northward of it,</p>
<p>already mentioned as the end of a range, bore nearly north. On reaching</p>
<p>the head of this pass the prospect before us, after winding through such</p>
<p>a labyrinth of hills, was agreeable enough. One fertile hollow led to an</p>
<p>open level country which appeared to be bounded at a great distance by</p>
<p>mountains; and I concluded that I should find in this extens…</p>
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		<title>24 September &#8211; 8 October</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-24-sep-8-oct/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/10/tm-journals-24-sep-8-oct/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 13 Oct 2010 05:14:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=469</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[MANY RIVULETS.
September 24.
The morning was rainy and our way having to be traced up the ravines and
round the hills was very tortuous for the first three miles. We then
reached the dividing part of the range and descended immediately after
into valleys of a less intricate character. Having passed over the swampy
bed of a rivulet flowing southward, [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>MANY RIVULETS.</p>
<p>September 24.</p>
<p>The morning was rainy and our way having to be traced up the ravines and</p>
<p>round the hills was very tortuous for the first three miles. We then</p>
<p>reached the dividing part of the range and descended immediately after</p>
<p>into valleys of a less intricate character. Having passed over the swampy</p>
<p>bed of a rivulet flowing southward, and having also crossed several fine</p>
<p>bold ridges with good streams between them, we at length encamped near a</p>
<p>round hill which, being clear on the summit, was therefore a favourable</p>
<p>station for the theodolite. This hill also consisted of granite and</p>
<p>commanded an open and extensive view over the country to the eastward.</p>
<p>September 25.</p>
<p>One bold range of forest land appeared before us and after crossing it we</p>
<p>passed over several rivulets falling northward, then over a ridge of</p>
<p>trappean conglomerate with embedded quartz pebbles, and descended into a</p>
<p>valley of the finest description. Grassy hills clear of timber appeared</p>
<p>beyond a stream also flowing northward. These hills consisted of old</p>
<p>vesicular lava. We next entered a forest of very large trees of ironbark</p>
<p>eucalyptus, and we finally encamped in a grassy valley in the midst of</p>
<p>this forest.</p>
<p>September 26.</p>
<p>We first crossed more hills of the trappean conglomerate on which grew</p>
<p>ironbark eucalypti and box. The rock consisted of a base of compact</p>
<p>felspar with embedded grains of quartz, giving to some parts the</p>
<p>character of conglomerate, and there were also embedded crystals of</p>
<p>common felspar. By diverging a little to the right we entered upon an</p>
<p>open tract of the most favourable aspect, stretching away to the</p>
<p>south-west among similar hills until they were lost in the extreme</p>
<p>distance. The whole surface was green as an emerald and on our right for</p>
<p>some miles ran a fine rivulet between steep grassy banks and over a bed</p>
<p>of trap-rock.</p>
<p>MAMMELOID HILLS.</p>
<p>At length this stream was joined by two others coming through similar</p>
<p>grassy valleys from the south; and when we approached two lofty smooth</p>
<p>round hills, green to their summits, the united streams flowed in an open</p>
<p>dell which our carts rolled through without meeting any impediment. I</p>
<p>ascended the most western of these hills as it was a point which I had</p>
<p>observed from various distant stations, and I enjoyed such a charming</p>
<p>view eastward from the summit as can but seldom fall to the lot of the</p>
<p>explorers of new countries. The surface presented the forms of pristine</p>
<p>beauty clothed in the hues of spring; and the shining verdure of these</p>
<p>smooth and symmetrical hills was relieved by the darker hues of the wood</p>
<p>with which they were interlaced; which exhibited every variety of tint,</p>
<p>from a dark brown in the foreground to a light blue in extreme distance.</p>
<p>LAVA, THE SURFACE ROCK.</p>
<p>The hills consisted entirely of lava and I named them from their peculiar</p>
<p>shape the Mammeloid hills, and the station on which I stood Mount</p>
<p>Greenock. In travelling through this Eden no road was necessary, nor any</p>
<p>ingenuity in conducting wheel-carriages wherever we chose. The beautiful</p>
<p>little terrestrial orchidaceous plants Caladenia dilatata and Diuris</p>
<p>aurea were already in full bloom; and we also found on the plains this</p>
<p>day a most curious little bush resembling a heath in foliage, but with</p>
<p>solitary polypetalous flowers resembling those of Sollya.* When we had</p>
<p>completed fourteen miles we encamped on the edge of an open plain and</p>
<p>near a small rivulet, the opposite bank consisting of grassy forest land.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. This has been ascertained to be a new species of the genus</p>
<p>Campylanthera of Hooker, or Pronaya of Baron Hugel, of which two species</p>
<p>were found by the latter botanist and the late Mr. Frazer at Swan River.</p>
<p>Campylanthera ericoides, Lindley manuscripts; erecta, fruticosa, glabra,</p>
<p>foliis oblongo-cuneatis mucronatis margine revolutis, floribus solitariis</p>
<p>terminalibus erectis, antheris subrotundis.)</p>
<p>ABORIGINAL IMITATIONS.</p>
<p>September 27.</p>
<p>I was surprised to hear the voice of a Scotchwoman in the camp this</p>
<p>morning. The peculiar accent and rapid utterance could not be mistaken as</p>
<p>I thought, and I called to inquire who the stranger was, when I</p>
<p>ascertained that it was only Tommy Came-last who was imitating a Scotch</p>
<p>female who, as I then learnt, was at Portland Bay and had been very kind</p>
<p>to Tommy. The imitation was ridiculously true through all the modulations</p>
<p>of that peculiar accent although, strange to say, without the</p>
<p>pronunciation of a single intelligible word. The talent of the aborigines</p>
<p>for imitation seems a peculiar trait in their character. I was informed</p>
<p>that The Widow could also amuse the men occasionally by enacting their</p>
<p>leader, taking angles, drawing from nature, etc.</p>
<p>While the party went forward over the open plains with Mr. Stapylton I</p>
<p>ascended a smooth round hill, distant about a mile to the southward of</p>
<p>our camp, from which I could with ease continue my survey by means of</p>
<p>hills on all sides, the highest of them being to the southward. I could</p>
<p>trace the rivulets flowing northward into one or two principal channels,</p>
<p>near several masses of mountain: these channels and ranges being probably</p>
<p>connected with those crossed by us on our route from the Murray. In these</p>
<p>bare hills and on the open grassy plains, old vesicular lava abounded;</p>
<p>small loose elongated fragments lay on the round hills, having a red</p>
<p>scorified appearance and being also so cellular as to be nearly as light</p>
<p>as pumice. We this day crossed several fine running streams and forests</p>
<p>of box and bluegum growing on ridges of trappean conglomerate. At length</p>
<p>we entered on a very level and extensive flat, exceedingly green and</p>
<p>resembling an English park. It was bounded on the east by a small river</p>
<p>flowing to the north-west (probably the Loddon) and abrupt but grassy</p>
<p>slopes arose beyond its right bank. After crossing this stream we</p>
<p>encamped, having travelled nearly fifteen miles in one straight line</p>
<p>bearing 60 1/2 degrees east of north. This tract was rather of a</p>
<p>different character from that of the fine country of which we had</p>
<p>previously seen so much, and we saw for the first time the Discaria</p>
<p>australis, a remarkable green leafless spiny bush and resembling in a</p>
<p>most striking manner the Colletias of Chili. Sheltered on every side by</p>
<p>woods or higher ground, the spring seemed more advanced there than</p>
<p>elsewhere, and our hard wrought cattle well deserved to be the first to</p>
<p>browse on that verdant plain. The stream in its course downwards vanished</p>
<p>amongst grassy hills to water a country apparently of the most</p>
<p>interesting and valuable character.</p>
<p>September 28.</p>
<p>The steep banks beyond the river consisted of clay-slate having under it</p>
<p>a conglomerate containing fragments of quartz cemented by compact</p>
<p>haematite.</p>
<p>SNAKES EATEN BY THE NATIVES.</p>
<p>The day was hot and we killed several large snakes of the species eaten</p>
<p>by the natives. I observed that our guides looked at the colour of the</p>
<p>belly when in any doubt about the sort they preferred; these were</p>
<p>white-bellied, whereas the belly of a very fierce one with a large head,</p>
<p>of which Piper and the others seemed much afraid, was yellow. On cutting</p>
<p>this snake open two young quails were found within: one of them not being</p>
<p>quite dead. The country we crossed during the early part of the day was</p>
<p>at least as fine as that we had left. We passed alternately through</p>
<p>strips of forest and over open flats well watered, the streams flowing</p>
<p>southward; and at nine miles we crossed a large stream also flowing in</p>
<p>that direction: all these being evidently tributaries to that on which we</p>
<p>had been encamped. Beyond the greater stream, where we last crossed it,</p>
<p>the country presented more of the mountain character, but good strong</p>
<p>grass grew among the trees, which consisted of box and lofty bluegum.</p>
<p>After making out upwards of eleven miles, we encamped in a valley where</p>
<p>water lodged in holes and where we found also abundance of grass. We were</p>
<p>fast approaching those summits which had guided me in my route from Mount</p>
<p>Cole, then more than fifty miles behind us. Like that mountain these</p>
<p>heights also belonged to a lofty range, and like it were beside a very</p>
<p>low part of it, through which I hoped to effect a passage. Leaving the</p>
<p>party to encamp I proceeded forward in search of the hill I had so long</p>
<p>seen before me, and I found that the hills immediately beyond our camp</p>
<p>were part of the dividing range and broken into deep ravines on the</p>
<p>eastern side. Pursuing the connection between them and the still higher</p>
<p>summits on the north-east, I came at length upon an open valley enclosed</p>
<p>by hills very lightly wooded. This change was evidently owing to a</p>
<p>difference in the rock which was a fine-grained granite, whereas the</p>
<p>hills we had recently crossed belonged chiefly to the volcanic class of</p>
<p>rocks, with the exception of the range I had traversed that evening in my</p>
<p>way from the camp, which consisted of ferruginous sandstone. With the</p>
<p>change of rock a difference was also obvious in the shape of the hills,</p>
<p>the quantity and quality of the water, and the character of the trees.</p>
<p>The hills presented a bold sweeping outline and were no longer broken by</p>
<p>sharp-edged strata but crowned with large round masses of rock. Running</p>
<p>water was gushing from every hollow in much greater abundance than</p>
<p>elsewhere; and lastly the timber, which on the other ranges consisted</p>
<p>chiefly of ironbark and stringybark, now presented the shining bark of</p>
<p>the bluegum or yarra and the grey hue of the box. The Anthisteria</p>
<p>australis, a grass which seems to delight in a granitic soil, also</p>
<p>appeared in great abundance, and we also found the aromatic tea, Tasmania</p>
<p>aromatica, which represents in New Holland the winter&#8217;s bark of the</p>
<p>southern extremity of South America. The leaves and bark of this tree</p>
<p>have a hot biting cinnamon-like taste on which account it is vulgarly</p>
<p>called the pepper-tree.</p>
<p>ASCEND MOUNT BYNG. &#8211; LEANGANOOK (Now Mt Alexander)</p>
<p>I could ride with ease to the summit of the friendly hill that I had seen</p>
<p>from afar, and found it but thinly wooded so that I could take my angles</p>
<p>around the horizon without difficulty. Again reminded by the similar</p>
<p>aspect this region presented of the lower Pyrenees and the pass of</p>
<p>Orbaicetta, I named the summit Mount Byng.</p>
<p>RICH GRASS.</p>
<p>A country fully as promising as the fine region we had left was embraced</p>
<p>in my view from that point. I perceived long patches of open plain</p>
<p>interspersed with forest hills and low woody ranges, among which I could</p>
<p>trace out a good line of route for another fifty miles homewards. The</p>
<p>highest of the mountains lay to the south and evidently belonged to the</p>
<p>coast range, if it might be so called; and on that side a lofty mass</p>
<p>arose above the rest and promised a view towards the sea, that height</p>
<p>being distant from the hill on which I stood about thirty miles. A broad</p>
<p>chain of woody hills connected the coast range with Mount Byng, and I</p>
<p>could trace the general course of several important streams through the</p>
<p>country to the east of it. Northward I saw a little of the interior</p>
<p>plains and the points where the various ranges terminated upon them. The</p>
<p>sun was setting when I left Mount Byng but I depended on one of our</p>
<p>natives, Tommy Came-last, who was then with me, for finding our way to</p>
<p>the camp; and who on such occasions could trace my steps backwards with</p>
<p>wonderful facility by day or night.</p>
<p>EXPEDITION PASS.</p>
<p>September 29.</p>
<p>The range before us was certainly rather formidable for the passage of</p>
<p>carts, but home lay beyond it, while delay and famine were synonymous</p>
<p>terms with us at that time. By following up the valley in which we had</p>
<p>encamped I found early on this morning an easy way through which the</p>
<p>carts might gain the lowest part of the range. Having conducted them to</p>
<p>this point without any other inconvenience besides the overturning of one</p>
<p>cart (from bad driving) we descended along the hollow of a ravine after</p>
<p>making it passable by throwing some rocks into the narrow part near its</p>
<p>head. The ravine at length opened, as I had expected, into a grassy</p>
<p>valley with a fine rivulet flowing through it, and from this valley we</p>
<p>debouched into the still more open granitic country at the foot of Mount</p>
<p>Byng. The pass thus auspiciously discovered and opened, over a neck</p>
<p>apparently the very lowest of the whole range, I named Expedition-pass,</p>
<p>confident that such a line of communication between the southern coast</p>
<p>and Sydney must, in the course of time, become a very considerable</p>
<p>thoroughfare. The change of soil however introduced us to the old</p>
<p>difficulty from which we had been happily relieved for some time, for we</p>
<p>came once more upon rotten and boggy ground. We met with this unexpected</p>
<p>impediment in an open-looking flat near a rivulet I was about to cross,</p>
<p>when I found the surface so extremely soft and yielding that from the</p>
<p>extreme resistance a bolt of the boat-carriage gave way, a circumstance</p>
<p>which obliged us immediately to encamp although we had travelled only</p>
<p>four miles.</p>
<p>EXCURSION TOWARDS PORT PHILLIP.</p>
<p>September 30.</p>
<p>Compelled thus to await the repair of the boat-carriage I determined to</p>
<p>make an excursion to the lofty mountain mass which appeared about thirty</p>
<p>miles to the southward, in order that I might connect my survey with Port</p>
<p>Phillip, which I hoped to see thence. The horses were not found as soon</p>
<p>as they were required, but when we at last got upon their backs we were</p>
<p>therefore less disposed to spare them.</p>
<p>DISCOVER AND CROSS THE RIVER BARNARD.</p>
<p>We crossed some soft hollows during the first few miles, and then arrived</p>
<p>on the banks of a small and deep river with reeds on its borders, and</p>
<p>containing many broad and deep reaches. It was full and flowed, but not</p>
<p>rapidly, towards the north-east, and it was not until we had continued</p>
<p>along the left bank of this stream for a considerable way upwards that we</p>
<p>found a rapid where we could cross without swimming. The left bank was of</p>
<p>bold acclivity but grassy and clear of timber, being very level on the</p>
<p>summit; and I found it consisted of trap-rock of the same vesicular</p>
<p>character which I had observed in so many other parts of this southern</p>
<p>region. Beyond the river (which I then named the Barnard) we first</p>
<p>encountered a hilly country from which we emerged rather unexpectedly;</p>
<p>for after crossing a small rivulet flowing in a deep and grassy dell</p>
<p>where trap-rock again appeared, and ascending the opposite slope, we</p>
<p>found that the summit consisted of an open level country of the finest</p>
<p>description. It was covered with the best kind of grass and the immediate</p>
<p>object of our ride, the mountain, was now visible beyond these rich</p>
<p>plains. Some fine forest-hills arose in various directions to the right</p>
<p>and left, and indeed I never saw a more pleasing or promising portion of</p>
<p>territory. The rich open ground across which we rode was not without</p>
<p>slight undulations; and when we had traversed about four miles of it we</p>
<p>came quite unawares to a full and flowing stream, nearly on a level with</p>
<p>its grassy banks; the bottom being so sound that we forded it without the</p>
<p>least difficulty.</p>
<p>EMUS NUMEROUS AND TAME.</p>
<p>Emus were very numerous on the downs and their curiosity brought them to</p>
<p>stare at our horses, apparently unconscious of the presence of the biped</p>
<p>on their backs whom both birds and beasts seem instinctively to avoid. In</p>
<p>one flock I counted twenty-nine emus, and so near did they come to us</p>
<p>that, having no rifle with me, I was tempted to discharge even my pistol</p>
<p>at one, although without effect. Kangaroos were equally numerous. Having</p>
<p>proceeded three miles beyond the stream we came to another flowing to the</p>
<p>westward between some very deep ponds, and it was probably a tributary to</p>
<p>the first.</p>
<p>THE RIVER CAMPASPE.</p>
<p>At twenty-two miles from the camp, on descending from some finely</p>
<p>undulating open ground, we arrived at a stream flowing westward, which I</p>
<p>judged to be also a branch of that we had first crossed. Its bed</p>
<p>consisted of granitic rocks and on the left bank I found trap. We had</p>
<p>this stream afterwards in sight on our left until, at two miles further,</p>
<p>we again crossed it and entered a wood of eucalyptus, being then only</p>
<p>five miles distant from the mountain, and we subsequently found that this</p>
<p>wood extended to its base.</p>
<p>EFFECTS OF A STORM IN THE WOODS.</p>
<p>The effects of some violent hurricane from the north were visible under</p>
<p>every tree, the earth being covered with broken branches, some of which</p>
<p>were more than a foot in diameter; the withering leaves remained upon</p>
<p>them, and I remarked that no whole trees had been blown down, although</p>
<p>almost all had lost their principal limbs and not a few had been reduced</p>
<p>to bare poles. The havoc which the storm had made gave an unusual aspect</p>
<p>to the whole of the forest land, so universally was it covered with</p>
<p>withering branches. Whether this region is subject to frequent</p>
<p>visitations of a like nature I could not of course then ascertain; but I</p>
<p>perceived that many of the trees had lost some of their top limbs at a</p>
<p>much earlier period in a similar manner. Neither had this been but a</p>
<p>partial tempest, for to the very base of the mountain the same effects</p>
<p>were visible. The trees on its side were of a much grander character than</p>
<p>those in the forest, and consisted principally of black-butt and bluegum</p>
<p>eucalypti measuring from six to eight feet in diameter. The rock was</p>
<p>syenite, so weathered as to resemble sandstone.</p>
<p>ASCEND MOUNT MACEDON.</p>
<p>I ascended without having been obliged to alight from my horse, and I</p>
<p>found that the summit was very spacious, being covered towards the south</p>
<p>with tree-ferns, and the musk-plant grew in great luxuriance. I saw also</p>
<p>many other plants found at the Illawarra, on the eastern coast of the</p>
<p>colony of New South Wales. The summit was full of wombat holes and,</p>
<p>unlike that side by which I had ascended, it was covered with the dead</p>
<p>trunks of enormous trees in all stages of decay.</p>
<p>PORT PHILLIP DIMLY SEEN FROM IT.</p>
<p>I had two important objects in view in ascending this hill; one being to</p>
<p>determine its position trigonometrically as a point likely to be seen</p>
<p>from the country to which I was going, where it might be useful to me in</p>
<p>fixing other points; the other being to obtain a view of Port Phillip,</p>
<p>and thus to connect my survey with that harbour. But the tree-fern,</p>
<p>musk-plant, brush, and lofty timber together shut us up for a long time</p>
<p>from any prospect of the low country to the southward, and it was not</p>
<p>until I had nearly exhausted a fine sunny afternoon in wandering round</p>
<p>the broad summit that I could distinguish and recognise some of the hills</p>
<p>to the westward; and when I at length obtained a glimpse of the country</p>
<p>towards the coast the features of the earth could scarcely be</p>
<p>distinguished from the sky or sea, although one dark point looked more</p>
<p>like a cape than a cloud and seemed to remain steady. With my glass I</p>
<p>perceived that water lay inside of that cape and that low plains extended</p>
<p>northward from the water. I next discovered a hilly point outside of the</p>
<p>cape or towards the sea; and on descending the hill to where the trees</p>
<p>grew less thickly I obtained an uninterrupted view of the whole piece of</p>
<p>water. As the sun went down the distant horizon became clearer towards</p>
<p>the coast and I intersected at length the two capes; also one at the head</p>
<p>of the bay and several detached hills. I perceived distinctly the course</p>
<p>of the Exe and Arundell rivers and a line of mangrove trees along the low</p>
<p>shore. In short I at length recognised Port Phillip and the intervening</p>
<p>country around it at a distance afterwards ascertained to be upwards of</p>
<p>fifty miles from Indented Head, which proved to be the first cape I had</p>
<p>seen; that outside (at A) being Point Nepean on the east side of the</p>
<p>entrance to this bay. At that vast distance I could trace no signs of</p>
<p>life about this harbour. No stockyards, cattle, nor even smoke, although</p>
<p>at the highest northern point of the bay I saw a mass of white objects</p>
<p>which might have been either tents or vessels. I perceived a white speck,</p>
<p>which I took for breakers or white sand, on the projecting point of the</p>
<p>north-eastern shore. (B.) On that day nine years exactly I first beheld</p>
<p>the heads of Port Jackson, a rather singular coincidence. Thus the</p>
<p>mountain on which I stood became an important point in my survey, and I</p>
<p>gave it the name of Mount Macedon, with reference to that of Port</p>
<p>Phillip.* It had been long dark before I reached the base of the mountain</p>
<p>and picked out a dry bit of turf on which to lie down for the night.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. Geboor is the native name of this hill, as since ascertained</p>
<p>by my friend Captain King, and it is a much better one, having fewer</p>
<p>letters and being aboriginal.)</p>
<p>October 1.</p>
<p>The morning was cloudy with drizzling rain, a circumstance which</p>
<p>prevented me from re-ascending a naked rock on the north-eastern summit</p>
<p>to extend my observations over the country we were about to traverse. I</p>
<p>found decomposed gneiss at the base of this hill.</p>
<p>RETURN TO THE CAMP.</p>
<p>While returning to the camp we saw great numbers of kangaroos but could</p>
<p>not add to our stock of provisions, having neither dogs nor a rifle with</p>
<p>us. I found on my arrival at the camp that the boat-carriage having been</p>
<p>made once more serviceable, the party was quite ready to move forward in</p>
<p>the morning.</p>
<p>October 2.</p>
<p>The day being Sunday and the weather unfavourable, as it rained heavily,</p>
<p>the barometer having also fallen more than half an inch, I made it a day</p>
<p>of rest for the benefit of our jaded horses, notwithstanding our own</p>
<p>short rations. I was also very desirous to complete some work on the map.</p>
<p>CONTINUE OUR HOMEWARD JOURNEY.</p>
<p>October 3.</p>
<p>A clear morning: I buried another letter for Mr. Stapylton, informing him</p>
<p>how he might best avoid the mud; and then we proceeded along the highest</p>
<p>points of the ground, thus keeping clear of that which was boggy, and we</p>
<p>found the surface to improve much in this respect as we receded from the</p>
<p>base of the higher range. We crossed some fine valleys, each watered by a</p>
<p>running stream; and all the hills consisted of granite. The various</p>
<p>rivulets we crossed fell southwards into one we had seen in a valley on</p>
<p>our right which continued from the base of the mountain, and this rivulet</p>
<p>at length entered a still deeper valley in which there was very little</p>
<p>wood, the hills on the opposite side being uncommonly level at the top.</p>
<p>In this valley a fine stream ran northward, being undoubtedly the</p>
<p>Barnard, or first river crossed by us on our way to Mount Macedon. We</p>
<p>succeeded in finding a ford, but although it was deep a greater</p>
<p>difficulty to be overcome was the descent of our carts to it, so abrupt</p>
<p>and steep-sided was the ravine in which the Barnard flowed.</p>
<p>WATERFALL OF COBAW.</p>
<p>When we had effected at length a descent and a passage across, having</p>
<p>also established our camp beyond this stream, I rode up the bank towards</p>
<p>a noise of falling water, and thus came to a very fine cascade of upwards</p>
<p>of sixty feet. The river indeed fell more than double that height, but in</p>
<p>the lower part the water escaped unseen, flowing amongst large blocks of</p>
<p>granite. I had visited several waterfalls in Scotland, but this was</p>
<p>certainly the most picturesque I had witnessed; although the effect was</p>
<p>not so much in the body of water falling, or the loud noise, as in the</p>
<p>bold character of the rocks over and amongst which it fell. Their colour</p>
<p>and shape were harmonized into a more complete scene than nature usually</p>
<p>presents, resembling the finished subject of an artist, foreground and</p>
<p>all. The prevailing hues were light red and purple-grey, the rocks being</p>
<p>finely interlaced with a small-leaved creeper of the brightest green. A</p>
<p>dark-coloured moss, which presents a warm green in the sun, covered the</p>
<p>lower masses and relieved and supported the brighter hues, while a</p>
<p>brilliant iris shone steadily in the spray, and blended into perfect</p>
<p>harmony the lighter hues of the higher rocks and the whiteness of the</p>
<p>torrent rushing over them. The banks of this stream were of so bold a</p>
<p>character that in all probability other picturesque scenery, perhaps</p>
<p>finer than this, may yet be found upon it.</p>
<p>SINGULAR COUNTRY ON THE BARNARD.</p>
<p>The geological character of the adjacent country was sufficiently</p>
<p>striking&#8211;the left bank consisted of undulating hills and bold rocks of</p>
<p>granite; the right of trap-rock in the higher part, and presented a</p>
<p>remarkable contrast to the other, from the perfectly level character of</p>
<p>the summits of adjacent hills, as if the whole had been once in a fluid</p>
<p>state. Some of these table hills were separated by dry grassy vales of</p>
<p>excellent soil. Further back the rugged crests of a wooded range of a</p>
<p>different formation rendered the level character of this ancient lava or</p>
<p>vesicular trap more obvious. The hills behind consisted in the higher</p>
<p>parts of a felspathic conglomerate and clay-slate dipping to the</p>
<p>eastward.</p>
<p>The country looked fine to the south and also northward, or down the</p>
<p>stream. By keeping along a winding valley we ascended without</p>
<p>inconvenience between these curiously scarped trap hills.</p>
<p>October 5.</p>
<p>We found the trees on the low range much broken like those near Mount</p>
<p>Macedon, and the ground strewed here also with withering boughs, the</p>
<p>result apparently of the same storm, the destructive effects of which we</p>
<p>had noticed on the trees there.</p>
<p>CROSS THE CAMPASPE.</p>
<p>Beyond the clay-stone range we entered on another open and grassy tract</p>
<p>where trap-rock again appeared; and at four miles and a half we descended</p>
<p>into a grassy ravine in which we found another river flowing northward;</p>
<p>this being apparently the second river crossed in my ride to Mount</p>
<p>Macedon and which I now named the Campaspe. It was difficult to find in</p>
<p>this stream any fordable place where the banks could be approached by the</p>
<p>carts, one side or the other always proving too steep; but at length we</p>
<p>succeeded. Strata of clay-slate inclined almost perpendicularly to the</p>
<p>horizon projected at parts of the left bank, and over this clay-slate I</p>
<p>found trap-rock. Beyond the Campaspe we crossed plains and much open</p>
<p>land. At length on descending a little from a sort of table the trap was</p>
<p>no longer to be seen, and we entered a wood where sandstone seemed to</p>
<p>predominate, the strata dipping to the south-west. Fine grassy slopes</p>
<p>extended through this forest, which was also so open that we could see</p>
<p>each way for several miles. A rich variety of yellow flowers adorned the</p>
<p>verdure among which the Caladenia and Diuris aurea, and also a large</p>
<p>white Anguillaria, were very abundant.</p>
<p>AN ENGLISH RAZOR FOUND.</p>
<p>Piper found at an old native encampment a razor, and I had the</p>
<p>satisfaction of reading on the blade the words &#8220;Old English&#8221; in this wild</p>
<p>region, still so remote from civilised man&#8217;s dominion! In the afternoon a</p>
<p>remarkable change took place in the weather, for we had rain with an</p>
<p>easterly wind, the thermometer being at 68 degrees. We encamped on a</p>
<p>chain of deep ponds falling to the northward; reeds grew in them and we</p>
<p>endeavoured to catch cod-perch but without success, probably because the</p>
<p>natives of the country were too expert fishers to leave any in such</p>
<p>holes.</p>
<p>ASCEND MOUNT CAMPBELL.</p>
<p>October 6.</p>
<p>At two miles on we reached the summit of the range near Mount Campbell</p>
<p>which had partly bounded my view eastward from Mount Byng. A slight scrub</p>
<p>grew on this range but not so thickly as to be impervious to carts; and</p>
<p>after crossing it, as well as a succession of lower ridges, a good valley</p>
<p>at length appeared on the left, while another which was very wide and</p>
<p>green lay before us. At the further side of this and under another range</p>
<p>ran a deep mountain stream which was joined a little lower down by one</p>
<p>from the valley on the left: thus by following this stream I might have</p>
<p>turned the range, but it was not too steep to be crossed, and I required</p>
<p>some angles with the surrounding hills and the country before us. We</p>
<p>ascended it therefore and comparatively with ease; and from amongst the</p>
<p>trees on a hill I saw and intersected more points than I expected to see;</p>
<p>even Mount Macedon was visible and, to the eastward, summits which I was</p>
<p>almost certain lay beyond the river Goulburn. The descent from this ridge</p>
<p>to the eastward was rather steep; but we immediately after entered an</p>
<p>open forest in a valley which led very nearly in the direction of my</p>
<p>intended route.</p>
<p>NATIVE BEVERAGE.</p>
<p>The adjacent forest consisted of large trees of ironbark, the first of</p>
<p>that species of eucalyptus that we had seen for a considerable time. This</p>
<p>tree was then in flower, and we found in a large canoe at an old native</p>
<p>encampment a considerable quantity of the blossoms, which had not been</p>
<p>long cut. Piper explained the purpose for which these flowers had been</p>
<p>gathered by informing me that, by steeping them a night in water, the</p>
<p>natives make a sweet beverage named bool.</p>
<p>VALLEY OF THE DEEGAY.</p>
<p>October 7.</p>
<p>The whole of this day&#8217;s journey (fourteen miles) was along the same</p>
<p>valley that we had entered yesterday. The deep bed of a stream, then</p>
<p>containing a chain of ponds only, pursued a meandering course through it.</p>
<p>We saw in this valley a pair of cockatoos with the scarlet and yellow</p>
<p>top-knot. (Plate 23.) We had not been long encamped when intelligence was</p>
<p>brought me by Piper that a party of natives were following our track, and</p>
<p>soon after, Burnett and he having gone out to encourage them to come up,</p>
<p>seven, including an old man and two boys, approached and I hastened out</p>
<p>to meet them that they might not sit down too close to our camp. They</p>
<p>told us the creek watering this long valley was named Deegay.</p>
<p>NATIVES EXCHANGE BASKETS FOR AXES.</p>
<p>Three of them carried very neatly-wrought baskets, and I gave two</p>
<p>tomahawks in exchange for two of the baskets, and then making signs that</p>
<p>it was time to sleep I returned to my tent, hoping that they would go to</p>
<p>their tribe.</p>
<p>THEY LINGER ABOUT OUR CAMP.</p>
<p>On looking out however some time after, I found that two had walked</p>
<p>boldly up to our fires, while the others continued to cower over a few</p>
<p>embers at the spot where I left them; the evening being very cold and</p>
<p>stormy. Piper, who at first seemed much disposed to make friends of these</p>
<p>people, had found that his endeavours to conciliate strange natives were</p>
<p>as usual in vain, and was now going about sword in hand, while three of</p>
<p>the strangers seemed desirous to assuage his anger by telling him a long</p>
<p>yarn. The other, who was the old man, was casting a covetous eye on all</p>
<p>things around the camp. When I went out they retired to the group, but</p>
<p>long after it had become quite dark there they still sat, having scarcely</p>
<p>any fire and evidently bent on mischief.</p>
<p>EFFECT OF FIREWORKS, ETC.</p>
<p>I really was not sorry then to find that they still continued, for I had</p>
<p>made arrangements for having a little amusement in that case, although</p>
<p>their object in lingering there was nothing less than to kill us when</p>
<p>asleep. Accordingly at a given signal Burnett suddenly sallied forth</p>
<p>wearing a gilt mask and holding in his hand a blue light with which he</p>
<p>fired a rocket.* Two men concealed behind the boat-carriage bellowed</p>
<p>hideously through speaking trumpets, while all the others shouted and</p>
<p>discharged their carabines in the air. Burnett marched solemnly towards</p>
<p>the astonished natives who were seen through the gloom but for an instant</p>
<p>as they made their escape and disappeared forever; leaving behind them</p>
<p>however rough-shaped heavy clubs which they had made there in the dark</p>
<p>with the new tomahawks we had given them, and which clubs were doubtless</p>
<p>made for the sole purpose of beating out our brains as soon as we fell</p>
<p>asleep. Thus their savage thirst for our blood only afforded us some</p>
<p>hearty laughing. Such an instance of ingratitude was to me however a</p>
<p>subject of painful reflection. The clubs made in the dark, during a very</p>
<p>cold night, with the tomahawks I had given them, enabled me to understand</p>
<p>better what the intentions of the natives had been in other similar</p>
<p>cases; and I was at length convinced that no kindness had the slightest</p>
<p>effect in altering the disposition and savage desire of these wild men to</p>
<p>kill white strangers on their first coming among them. That Australia can</p>
<p>never be explored with safety except by very powerful parties will</p>
<p>probably be proved by the treacherous murder of many brave white men.**</p>
<p>(*Footnote. The use of these masks, which I on several occasions</p>
<p>displayed with success, was first suggested to me by Sir John Jamison.)</p>
<p>(**Footnote. A distressing instance of this hostility towards the whites</p>
<p>on the part of the aborigines has since occurred not far from the very</p>
<p>spot where I wrote the above portion of my journal. Our line of route</p>
<p>soon became the high road from Sydney to Port Phillip, and it appears by</p>
<p>the Sydney newspapers (see Appendix 2.3) that the natives attacked a</p>
<p>party of fifteen men proceeding with cattle into these recently explored</p>
<p>regions. Although the whites had firearms the blacks killed seven of</p>
<p>them, leaving another so severely wounded that his recovery was deemed</p>
<p>hopeless. The winding swamp where this sudden attack by aboriginal</p>
<p>natives took place is marked Swampy River on the map, and from the</p>
<p>assembling of such a number at that point, exactly midway between the</p>
<p>Murrumbidgee and Port Phillip, therefore the most remote from settled</p>
<p>parts, and especially from the SUDDENNESS of that attack, the reader may</p>
<p>imagine the perilous situation of my party on the Darling and the lower</p>
<p>part of the Murray where, had any such attack but commenced successfully,</p>
<p>it is extremely improbable that any white man would have returned to the</p>
<p>settled districts.)</p>
<p>October 8.</p>
<p>The windings of the creek were this day more in our way as we proceeded</p>
<p>along the valley and, when in doubt whether it would be best for our</p>
<p>purpose to cross this channel or one joining it there from the south, I</p>
<p>perceived a small hill at no great distance beyond, upon which I halted</p>
<p>the party and ascended, when I saw that several ranges previously</p>
<p>observed were at no great distance before us. In these ranges a gap to</p>
<p>the south-east seemed to be the bed of the river which I knew we were</p>
<p>approaching, and which I therefore concluded we should find in the low</p>
<p>intervening country. Westward of the gap or ravine stood a large mass</p>
<p>which I thought might be the Mount Disappointment of Mr. Hume.</p>
<p>ARRIVAL AT, AND PASSAGE OF, THE GOULBURN.</p>
<p>On returning to the party we crossed the channel of the Deegay; but at</p>
<p>less than a mile further we were obliged to pass again to the right bank</p>
<p>at a point where its course tended northward. Soon after recrossing it we</p>
<p>met with a broad dry channel or lagoon, with lofty gum trees of the yarra</p>
<p>species on its borders, a proof that the river was at hand; and on</p>
<p>advancing three-quarters of a mile further we made the bank of the</p>
<p>Goulburn or Hovell, a fine river somewhat larger than the Murrumbidgee.*</p>
<p>Its banks and bed were firm; the breadth 60 yards; the mean depth as</p>
<p>ascertained by soundings being somewhat more there than two fathoms. The</p>
<p>velocity was at the rate of 100 yards in three minutes, or one mile and</p>
<p>240 yards per hour; the temperature of the water 54 degrees Fahrenheit.</p>
<p>After having ascertained that this river was nowhere fordable at that</p>
<p>time I sought an eligible place for swimming the cattle and horses across</p>
<p>and immediately launched the boat. All the animals reached the opposite</p>
<p>bank in safety; and by the evening every part of our equipment except the</p>
<p>boat-carriage was also across.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. This river has been unfortunate in obtaining a variety of</p>
<p>names and therefore less objection can be made to my preference of the</p>
<p>aboriginal which I ascertained through Piper to be Bayunga. We already</p>
<p>have a river Goulburn in New South Wales.)</p>
<p>FISH CAUGHT.</p>
<p>In this river we caught one or two very fine cod-perch, our old friends</p>
<p>Gristes peelii.</p>
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		<title>7 July &#8211; September</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/7th-july-september/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/7th-july-september/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 15 Sep 2010 07:22:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>eliza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Eliza Tree]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=452</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[From Expedition to Journey.
**Please check photos of my journey so far here**

Its now 9 weeks since I diverted to Castlemaine, initially planned to be 2 weeks
- now 2 months!  There are clearly many more distractions to deal with, than when Mitchell passed through this way!
As well as needing to visit the Dentist; attend Burke and [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>From Expedition to Journey.</p>
<p>**<a href="http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/gallery">Please check photos of my journey so far here</a>**</p>
<p><a href="http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/gallery"><img class="ngg-singlepic ngg-none" src="http://majormitchellexpedition.com/wp-content/gallery/eliza-journey/IMGP0595.jpg" alt="IMGP0595" /></a></p>
<p>Its now 9 weeks since I diverted to Castlemaine, initially planned to be 2 weeks</p>
<p>- now 2 months!  There are clearly many more distractions to deal with, than when Mitchell passed through this way!</p>
<p>As well as needing to visit the Dentist; attend Burke and Wills Events; spend time with my lovely man; start painting the Exhibition; The big one has been – planning for next year, to celebrate the 175 years since Mitchell’s Epic journey of 1836!</p>
<p>Having struck on the happy coincidence of following the Expedition this year : 2010.</p>
<p>It seems more must be done next year : 2011.    175 YEARS</p>
<p>March 17th:  set out on my Expedition , as did Mitchell, from Mt Canobolas, I have ‘expeditioned’ my way along, following Mitchell’s Maps and Journals; I have followed my Intuition and instincts, modern maps and GPS: Ventured to amazing places, met wonderful people, had interesting experiences, and camped for 4 months, mainly along river sides, often in Mitchell Camp Sites, with just me and my little doggy. (with 2 quick visits from Simon).</p>
<p>Most recently: A quick visit to my Dad in Nambour; then  Byron Bay to meet T.L.Mitchell’s Great great Grandson!! The fabulous Ted Sly!!; Sydney to vist Libraries, family and friends; South Coast for 50<sup>th</sup> Birthday Party!!; Canberra: family &amp; Museum /gallery.</p>
<p>And home again to Castlemaine.</p>
<p>Having re-established my Studio, it has given me time to expand my sketches, thoughts and ideas onto Canvas!</p>
<p>Time to think, plan and read. To further explore the questions, questions !– reading between the lines!</p>
<p>So now again I wait for the rain to pass, the sun to shine, and the tracks to dry. To return to Pyramid Hill/ Mt Hope! And my Journey.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>14 &#8211; 23 September</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/tm-journals-sept-14-23/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/tm-journals-sept-14-23/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 15 Sep 2010 00:30:29 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[ASCEND MOUNT ABRUPT.
September 14.
I was most anxious to ascend Mount Abrupt, the first peak to the
northward of Mount Sturgeon, that I might close my survey of these
mountains and also reconnoitre the country before us. This morning clouds
hung upon the mountains however, and I could scarcely indulge a hope that
the weather would be favourable for the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>ASCEND MOUNT ABRUPT.</p>
<p>September 14.</p>
<p>I was most anxious to ascend Mount Abrupt, the first peak to the<br />
northward of Mount Sturgeon, that I might close my survey of these<br />
mountains and also reconnoitre the country before us. This morning clouds<br />
hung upon the mountains however, and I could scarcely indulge a hope that<br />
the weather would be favourable for the purposed survey; nevertheless I<br />
bent my steps towards the mountain, having first set the carpenter to<br />
work to make an additional width of felloe to the narrow wheels of one of<br />
the carts, that it might pass with less difficulty over soft ground. We<br />
soon came to a deep stream flowing not FROM but apparently TOWARDS the<br />
mountains; its general course being westward. It was so deep that our<br />
horses could scarcely ford it without swimming. Reeds grew about and the<br />
bottom was soft, although two kinds of rock appeared in its banks. On the<br />
right was trap, on the left the ferruginous sandstone of which all these<br />
mountains consist. We soon entered on the barren and sandy but firm<br />
ground at their base which, with its peculiar trees and shrubs, appeared<br />
so different from the grassy plains. The banksia, the casuarina, and the<br />
hardy xanthorrhoea reminded us of former toils on the opposite side of<br />
these ranges.</p>
<p>VIEW OF THE GRAMPIANS FROM THE SUMMIT.<br />
The weather turned out better than I had expected, and from the summit of<br />
Mount Abrupt I beheld a truly sublime scene; the whole of the mountains,<br />
quite clear of clouds, the grand outline of the more distant masses<br />
blended with the sky, and forming a blue and purple background for the<br />
numerous peaks of the range on which I stood, which consisted of sharp<br />
cones and perpendicular cliffs foreshortened so as to form one grand<br />
feature only of the extensive landscape, though composing a crescent<br />
nearly 30 miles in extent: this range being but a branch from the still<br />
more lofty masses of Mount William which crowned the whole. Towards the<br />
coast there was less haze than usual, for I could distinguish Lady Julia<br />
Percy&#8217;s Isle which I had looked for in vain from Mount Napier, a point<br />
twenty-four miles nearer to it. Here I could also trace the course of the<br />
stream we had crossed that morning from its sources under the eastern<br />
base of the mountains to a group of lower hills twenty-seven miles<br />
distant to the westward; which hills, named by me Dundas group, formed a<br />
most useful point in my trigonometrical survey.</p>
<p>LAKES.</p>
<p>Several extensive lakes appeared in the lowest parts adjacent; but what<br />
interested me most after I had intersected the various summits was the<br />
appearance of the country to the eastward, through which we were to find<br />
our way home. There I saw a vast extent of open downs and could trace<br />
their undulations to where they joined a range of mountains which,<br />
judging by their outlines, appeared to be of easy access. Our straightest<br />
way homewards passed just under a bluff head about fifty miles distant,<br />
and so far I could easily perceive a most favourable line of route by<br />
avoiding several large reedy lakes. Between that open country and these<br />
lakes on one side and the coast on the other, a low woody ridge extended<br />
eastward; and by first gaining that I hoped we should reach the open<br />
ground in a direction which should enable us to leave all the lakes on<br />
our left.</p>
<p>The largest pieces of water I could see were Lake Linlithgow and its<br />
companion in the open grassy plains between the range and Mount Napier,<br />
as previously discovered from that hill. Several small and very<br />
picturesque lakes, then as smooth as mirrors, adorned the valley<br />
immediately to the westward of the hill I was upon. They were fringed<br />
with luxuriant shrubs so that it was really painful to me to hurry, as I<br />
was then compelled to do, past spots like these, involving in their<br />
unexplored recesses so much of novelty amidst the most romantic scenery.</p>
<p>The rock consisted of a finely-grained sandstone as in other parts of<br />
that mass. The Grampians of the south consist of three ranges covering a<br />
surface which extends latitudinally 54 miles and longitudinally 20 miles.</p>
<p>The extreme eastern and highest summit is Mount William, in height 4,500<br />
feet above the sea. The northern point is Mount Zero, in latitude 36<br />
degrees 52 minutes 35 seconds South, and the southern is Mount Sturgeon,<br />
in latitude 37 degrees 38 minutes 00 seconds. I here again recognised the<br />
outline of the most northern and elevated range extending from Mount<br />
William to Mount Zero, but it was not so steep on the southern as on the<br />
northern side.</p>
<p>VICTORIA RANGE AND THE SERRA.<br />
From this hill two other ranges branch off to the south; the western<br />
being marked Victoria range on the map, the eastern, the Serra, from its<br />
serrated appearance, the broken outlines they present being highly<br />
ornamental to the fine country around. On the northern slopes of the</p>
<p>range are some forests of fine timber but in general the higher summits</p>
<p>are bare and rocky. The chief source of the Glenelg is between the</p>
<p>Victoria range and the most northern, whence it soon sinks into a deep</p>
<p>glen or ravine, receiving numberless tributaries from other dells</p>
<p>intersecting the adjacent country. A considerable branch of the Glenelg</p>
<p>named by the natives the Wannon has its sources in the eastern and</p>
<p>southern rivulets from these mountains. The waters falling northward</p>
<p>enter the Wimmera, a different river whose estuary has not yet been</p>
<p>explored. Returning towards the camp, on approaching the stream, we met</p>
<p>with one of the most strikingly beautiful species of the common genus</p>
<p>Pultenaea; its narrow heath-like leaves were so closely covered with soft</p>
<p>silky hairs as to have quite a silvery appearance and the branches were</p>
<p>loaded with the heads of yellow and brown flowers now fully open. It</p>
<p>formed a new species of the Proliferous section, allied to Pultenaea</p>
<p>stipularis.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. P. mollis, Lindley manuscripts; ramulis villosis, foliis</p>
<p>linearibus v. lineari-lanceolatis obtusis v. acuminatis subtus convexis</p>
<p>supra sulcatis sericeo-pilosis capitulis sessilibus longioribus, stipulis</p>
<p>ovato-linearibus acutis glabris badiis, calycibus villosis.)</p>
<p>PARTY IMPEDED BY THE MUD AGAIN, AND A BROKEN AXLE.</p>
<p>September 15.</p>
<p>Pursuing an easterly course in order to avoid the Wannon we again found</p>
<p>the ground so soft and boggy that it was impossible to proceed; and after</p>
<p>advancing with incredible labour (under which one of the poor bullocks</p>
<p>fell to rise no more) barely four miles, I ordered the tents to be again</p>
<p>set up, but almost in despair for having performed during the previous</p>
<p>days several good journeys with perfect freedom from this species of</p>
<p>impediment, and having seen no indication of any change in the surface, I</p>
<p>had assured the men on descending from the mountains that the country</p>
<p>before us was favourable. We were nevertheless compelled to halt again at</p>
<p>this part by the breaking of the iron axle of one of the carts, for it</p>
<p>was necessary to endeavour to repair it before we could proceed. The</p>
<p>highest part of the woody ridge between us and the plains bore according</p>
<p>to my map due east, being distant 14 miles.</p>
<p>MR. STAPYLTON EXAMINES THE COUNTRY BEFORE US.</p>
<p>I gave that bearing to Mr. Stapylton who rode forward with Burnett to</p>
<p>ascertain how far we were from firmer ground, while I continued in my</p>
<p>tent occupied with the map of the mountains. It was dark before Mr.</p>
<p>Stapylton returned and brought the pleasing tidings that the soft ground</p>
<p>extended only to three or four miles from the camp, and that from beyond</p>
<p>that distance to the forest hills he had found the ground tolerably firm.</p>
<p>September 16.</p>
<p>The country which proved so soft was nevertheless stony and trap-rock</p>
<p>projected from every higher portion; yet such rocky eminences being</p>
<p>unconnected each was surrounded by softer ground. I was resolved to make</p>
<p>the very most of them: but an iron axle having been broken in our</p>
<p>struggles with the mud, the smith required more time to repair it, and I</p>
<p>therefore determined to proceed with but half the equipment drawn by ALL</p>
<p>the bullocks, leaving Burnett and the remaining portion of the party and</p>
<p>equipment to come on next day by the same means, as soon as the cattle</p>
<p>could be sent back.</p>
<p>AT LENGTH GET THROUGH THE SOFT REGION.</p>
<p>Having previously examined the ground and carefully traced out the</p>
<p>hardest parts connecting these rocky features, I led the way with the</p>
<p>carts and got through the first part of the journey much better than any</p>
<p>of us had expected. After passing over four miles of soft boggy ground we</p>
<p>came to a small running stream, the surface beyond it rising to a</p>
<p>somewhat steep ascent. On reaching that side I found myself on a good</p>
<p>firm ridge along which I continued for some time until we reached a</p>
<p>swampy lagoon, the banks of which were very firm and good. Leaving this</p>
<p>on our right we at length saw the darkly wooded hills of the ridge before</p>
<p>mentioned; and having travelled eleven miles we encamped near a small</p>
<p>lagoon on a spot where there was excellent grass; but it was still</p>
<p>necessary to send back the poor cattle with their drivers that evening to</p>
<p>where the other party still remained encamped.</p>
<p>CATTLE QUITE EXHAUSTED.</p>
<p>September 17.</p>
<p>This day the rest of the party came up but the cattle seemed quite</p>
<p>exhausted. They had at length become so weak from the continued heavy</p>
<p>dragging through mud that it was obvious they could not proceed much</p>
<p>further until after they had enjoyed at least some weeks of repose. But</p>
<p>our provisions did not admit of this delay as the time had arrived when I</p>
<p>ought to have been at Sydney although still so far from it.</p>
<p>DETERMINE TO LEAVE THEM IN A DEPOT TO REFRESH WHILE I PROCEED FORWARD.</p>
<p>After mature deliberation we hit upon a plan which might as I thought</p>
<p>enable us to escape. The arrangement proposed was that I should go</p>
<p>forward with some of the freshest of the cattle drawing the light carts</p>
<p>and boat, with a month&#8217;s provisions, and taking with me as many men as</p>
<p>would enable me to leave with those who should remain provisions for two</p>
<p>months. That the cattle should rest at the present camp two weeks and</p>
<p>then proceed while I, by travelling so far before them with so light a</p>
<p>party, could send back a supply of provisions and also the boat, to meet</p>
<p>this second party following in my track on the banks of the Murray. Thus</p>
<p>I could reach Sydney some weeks sooner, and also carry on my survey much</p>
<p>more conveniently; the cattle, which had been sinking almost daily, would</p>
<p>be thus refreshed sufficiently to be able to travel and the chance of the</p>
<p>whole party suffering from famine would be much diminished. Such was the</p>
<p>outline of the plan which our position and necessities suggested.</p>
<p>September 18.</p>
<p>This day was passed in making preparations for setting out tomorrow with</p>
<p>the light party as proposed.</p>
<p>SPECIMENS OF NATURAL HISTORY.</p>
<p>The catalogue of the objects of Natural History collected during the</p>
<p>journey included several birds and animals not hitherto mentioned in this</p>
<p>Journal. Amongst the most remarkable of these was the pig-footed animal</p>
<p>found on June 16. It measured about ten inches in length, had no tail,</p>
<p>and the forefeet resembled those of a pig. There was also the rat which</p>
<p>climbs trees like the opossum; the flat-tailed rat from the scrubs of the</p>
<p>Darling, where it builds an enormous nest of branches and boughs, so</p>
<p>interlaced as to be proof against any attacks of the native dog. The</p>
<p>unique specimen from the reedy country on the Murray of a very singular</p>
<p>animal much resembling the jerboa or desert rat of Persia; also a</p>
<p>rat-eared bat from the Lachlan. We had several new birds, but the most</p>
<p>admired of our ornithological discoveries was a white-winged superb</p>
<p>warbler from the junction of the Darling and the Murray, all the plumage</p>
<p>not white being of a bright blue colour; but of this we had obtained only</p>
<p>one specimen. I had not many opportunities of figuring the birds from</p>
<p>life, so very desirable in ornithological subjects. The eye of the eagle</p>
<p>and the rich crest of the cockatoo of the desert could not be preserved</p>
<p>in dead specimens, and were too fine to be omitted among the sketches I</p>
<p>endeavoured to snatch from nature.* Our herbarium had suffered from the</p>
<p>continued wet weather, especially in fording deep rivers; and this was</p>
<p>the more to be regretted as it contained many remarkable specimens. The</p>
<p>seeds and bulbous roots comprising varieties of Calostemma, Caladenia,</p>
<p>and Anguillaria, besides a number of large liliaceous bulbs, were however</p>
<p>preserved in a very good state.**</p>
<p>(*Footnote. See Plates 23 and 36.)</p>
<p>(**Footnote. The specimens of natural history were deposited in the</p>
<p>Museum at Sydney, according to my letter of instructions. The seeds,</p>
<p>amounting to 134 varieties, have been brought home and distributed, with</p>
<p>the obliging assistance of my friend Dr. Lindley, amongst the principal</p>
<p>gardens in this country. The bulbs, 62 in number, were planted soon after</p>
<p>my arrival in England, in the gardens of the Horticultural Society at</p>
<p>Chiswick. It was not without regret that I left at Sydney the single</p>
<p>specimens of the Chaeropus and Dipus, but I took drawings representing</p>
<p>each, of the natural size, and from these the figures in Plates 37 and 38</p>
<p>have been very accurately reduced by Mr. Picken.)</p>
<p>SITUATION OF DEPOT CAMP AT LAKE REPOSE.</p>
<p>The camp in which Mr. Stapylton&#8217;s party was to remain two weeks was in as</p>
<p>favourable a place for refreshing the cattle as could be found. The</p>
<p>ground undulated and was thickly clothed with fresh verdure; a grassy</p>
<p>swamp also, such as cattle delight in, extended northward into a lake of</p>
<p>fresh water which I named Lake Repose. The peaks of the Serra Range and</p>
<p>especially Mount Abrupt were landmarks which secured the men from even</p>
<p>the possibility of losing their way in looking after the cattle.</p>
<p>Of the natives in our party it was arranged among themselves that Tommy</p>
<p>Came-first and The Widow, who most required a rest, having sore feet,</p>
<p>should remain with Mr. Stapylton and that Piper and Tommy Came-last</p>
<p>should accompany me.</p>
<p>PARTING OF THE WIDOW AND HER CHILD.</p>
<p>September 19.</p>
<p>When about to set out I observed that The Widow Turandurey, who was to</p>
<p>remain with Mr. Stapylton&#8217;s party and the carts, was marked with white</p>
<p>round the eyes (the natives&#8217; fashion of mourning) and that the face of</p>
<p>her child Ballandella was whitened also. This poor woman who had</p>
<p>cheerfully carried the child on her back when we offered to carry both on</p>
<p>the carts, and who was as careful and affectionate as any mother could</p>
<p>be, had at length determined to entrust to me the care of this infant. I</p>
<p>was gratified with such a proof of the mother&#8217;s confidence in us, but I</p>
<p>should have been less willing to take charge of her child had I not been</p>
<p>aware of the wretched state of slavery to which the natives females are</p>
<p>doomed. I felt additional interest in this poor child from the</p>
<p>circumstance of her having suffered so much by the accident that befel</p>
<p>her while with our party, and which had not prevented her from now</p>
<p>preferring our mode of living so much that I believe the mother at length</p>
<p>despaired of being ever able to initiate her thoroughly in the mysteries</p>
<p>of killing and eating snakes, lizards, rats, and similar food. The widow</p>
<p>had been long enough with us to be sensible how much more her sex was</p>
<p>respected by civilised men than savages, and, as I conceived, it was with</p>
<p>such sentiments that she committed her child to my charge, under the</p>
<p>immediate care however of Piper&#8217;s gin.</p>
<p>WE AT LENGTH EMERGE ON MUCH FIRMER GROUND.</p>
<p>For several miles we met with soft ground at the low connecting parts of</p>
<p>hills, but we at length gained the woody ridge so likely, as I had hoped,</p>
<p>to favour our progress. Its turnings were intricate but, by one or two</p>
<p>rivulets falling to my left and then by others falling to the right, I</p>
<p>learnt how to keep on the intermediate ground until at length, after a</p>
<p>journey of nine miles, we emerged from the woods on a firm open surface</p>
<p>and an extensive prospect was seen before us. Leaving the party to encamp</p>
<p>I rode to a round forest hill some miles to the eastward and obtained a</p>
<p>comprehensive view of the Grampians, and also of the country to the</p>
<p>northward which now appeared to be chiefly open; and I had little doubt</p>
<p>that we should find it more favourable for travelling upon. Eastward of</p>
<p>the forest hill the ground sank into a deep valley which turned round to</p>
<p>the south-east after receiving the drainage from some hollows in the open</p>
<p>country north of it.</p>
<p>RIVER HOPKINS.</p>
<p>This ravine received also the waters from the woody ridge now south of</p>
<p>us, where the numerous deep valleys were irrigated by streams arising in</p>
<p>swamps; the whole probably forming the head of some more important stream</p>
<p>flowing to the coast and which I here named the river Hopkins. This</p>
<p>eminence, which I distinguished as Mount Stavely, consisted apparently of</p>
<p>decomposed clay-stone or felspar, having a tendency to divide naturally</p>
<p>into regular prisms. A very beautiful and singular-looking shrub appeared</p>
<p>on the hills we crossed this day, and also on the open ground where</p>
<p>indeed it was most abundant. It was a species of acacia, the leaves</p>
<p>adhering edgeways to thorny branches; many of these shrubs were in</p>
<p>blossom, the flowers being yellow and as large and round as marbles, and</p>
<p>those growing very thickly, they gave to the branches the appearance of</p>
<p>garlands or festoons, the effect altogether being extremely graceful and</p>
<p>singular. We found also a beautiful new species of acacia looking like a</p>
<p>broad-leaved variety of A. armata. The branches were singularly protected</p>
<p>by short spiny forks which proved to be the hardened permanent stipules.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. A. furcifera, Lindley manuscripts; stipulis spinescentibus</p>
<p>persistentibus, phyllodiis obliquis ovato-oblongis mucronatis uninerviis</p>
<p>hinc venosis glabris, ramis hirsutis, capitulis solitariis foliis</p>
<p>brevioribus.)</p>
<p>With this occurred another species with hard stiff scymetar-shaped leaves</p>
<p>and a profusion of balls of browner yellow flowers which had been</p>
<p>previously observed (on June 22) in a more vigorous condition.* By</p>
<p>observations from this hill I made the height of Mount William about</p>
<p>4,500 feet above the sea.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. This was most nearly related to A. hispidula, but the leaves</p>
<p>were quite smooth and much smaller. A. acinacea, Lindley manuscripts;</p>
<p>glaberrima; ramulis alato-angulatis rigidis, phyllodiis brevibus</p>
<p>acinaciformibus mucronatis 1-nerviis et enerviis: margine superiore infra</p>
<p>medium glanduloso, capitulis geminis axillaribus, pedunculis phyllodiorum</p>
<p>longitudine.)</p>
<p>September 20.</p>
<p>Our wheels now rolled lightly over fine grassy downs and our faces were</p>
<p>turned towards distant home. Before us arose a low, thinly-wooded hill,</p>
<p>which at first bounded our view towards the north, and afterwards proved</p>
<p>to be the feature connecting the low woody ridge near our last camp with</p>
<p>the hills still further to the northward. On reaching the summit I</p>
<p>perceived that a considerable extent of open country intervened, being</p>
<p>watered in the lower parts by several lakes.</p>
<p>MOUNT NICHOLSON. COCKAJEMMY SALT LAKES.</p>
<p>Descending northward along an offset of the same hills which had led us</p>
<p>in that direction and which I now named Mount Nicholson, I observed that</p>
<p>the lakes occurred at intervals in a valley apparently falling from the</p>
<p>westward in which no stream appeared, although it was shut in by well</p>
<p>escarped rocky banks. We encamped after a journey of ten miles at a point</p>
<p>where another valley from the north joined the above, and I was somewhat</p>
<p>surprised to find after encamping that the water in the adjacent lakes</p>
<p>was extremely salt. No connection existed by means of any channel between</p>
<p>them although they formed together a chain of lagoons in the bed of a</p>
<p>deep and well defined valley. On the contrary the soil was particularly</p>
<p>solid and firm between them, and the margin of the most eastern of these</p>
<p>lakes was separated by a high bank from the bed of another valley where a</p>
<p>running stream of pure water flowed over a broad and swampy bed fifteen</p>
<p>feet higher than the adjacent valley containing the stagnant salt lakes.</p>
<p>The rock enclosing these singular valleys was basalt, and from these</p>
<p>peculiarities, considered with reference to the ancient volcano and the</p>
<p>dip of a mountain strata to the north-west, it was evident that some</p>
<p>upheaving or subsidence had materially altered the levels of the original</p>
<p>surface.</p>
<p>I could find no brine-springs in or about these lakes, and as it was</p>
<p>evident that a stream had once washed the bed of the ravine now occupied</p>
<p>by them, I may leave the solution of the problem to geologists.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. Having submitted specimens of the water from these and other</p>
<p>salt lakes of the interior to my friend Professor Faraday, I have been</p>
<p>favoured with the following particulars respecting their contents: &#8220;All</p>
<p>of them are solutions of common salt much surpassing the ocean or even</p>
<p>the Mediterranean in the quantity of salt dissolved. Besides the common</p>
<p>salt there are present (in comparatively small quantity) portions of</p>
<p>sulphates and muriates of lime and magnesia: the waters are neutral and</p>
<p>except in strength very much resemble those of the ocean. That labelled</p>
<p>Greenhill Lake 24th July had a specific gravity of 1049.4 and three</p>
<p>measured ounces gave on evaporation 97 grains of dry salts. That labelled</p>
<p>Mitre Lake 24th July had a specific gravity of 1038.6, and three measured</p>
<p>ounces of it yielded 77 grains of dry saline matter. The water labelled</p>
<p>Cockajemmy Lake Camp 20th September had a specific gravity of 1055.3 and</p>
<p>the amount of dry salts from three measured ounces was 113 grains.&#8221;)</p>
<p>NATIVES ILL DISPOSED.</p>
<p>As we proceeded over the open ground before we reached the spot where we</p>
<p>finally encamped several natives appeared at a great distance in a valley</p>
<p>eastward of Mount Nicholson, and Piper went towards them supported by</p>
<p>Brown whom I sent after him on horseback. They proved to be three or four</p>
<p>gins only, but Piper continued to pursue them to the top of a hill, when</p>
<p>a number of men armed with spears suddenly started from behind trees and</p>
<p>were running furiously towards Piper when Brown rode up. On presenting</p>
<p>his pistol they came to a full stop, thereby showing that they had some</p>
<p>idea of firearms, although they refused to answer Piper&#8217;s questions or to</p>
<p>remain longer. In the evening, four of them approaching our camp, Piper</p>
<p>went forward with Burnett to meet them. They advanced to the tents</p>
<p>apparently without fear, and I obtained from them the names of various</p>
<p>localities. On being questioned respecting Cadong, they told us that all</p>
<p>these waters ran into it, and pointed to the south-east, saying that I</p>
<p>should by-and-bye see it. When I found we could obtain no more</p>
<p>information I presented the most intelligent of them with a tomahawk, on</p>
<p>which they went slowly away, repeatedly turning round towards us and</p>
<p>saying something which, according to Piper, had reference to their tribe</p>
<p>coming again and dancing a corrobory, a proposal these savage tribes</p>
<p>often make and which the traveller who knows them well will think it</p>
<p>better to discourage.</p>
<p>SINGULAR WEAPON.</p>
<p>These men carried a singular kind of malga, of a construction different</p>
<p>from any Piper had ever seen. The malga is a weapon usually made in the</p>
<p>form of Figure 2, but that with which these natives were provided</p>
<p>somewhat resembled a pick-axe with one half broken off, and was of the</p>
<p>form of Figure 1, being made so as to be thickest at the angle. The blow</p>
<p>of such a formidable weapon could not be easily parried from the</p>
<p>uncertainty whether it would be aimed with the thick heavy corner or the</p>
<p>sharp point. All the weapons of this singular race are peculiar and this</p>
<p>one was not the least remarkable.</p>
<p>TREACHEROUS CONCEALMENT OF A NATIVE.</p>
<p>At dusk while Woods was looking after the cattle near the camp he</p>
<p>surprised a native concealed behind a small bush, who did not make his</p>
<p>escape until Woods was within two yards of him.</p>
<p>CONTENTS OF A NATIVE&#8217;S BASKET AND STORE.</p>
<p>How many more had been about we could not ascertain, but next morning we</p>
<p>found near the spot one of the bags usually carried by gins and</p>
<p>containing the following samples of their daily food: three snakes; three</p>
<p>rats; about 2 pounds of small fish, like white bait; crayfish; and a</p>
<p>quantity of the small root of the cichoraceous plant tao, usually found</p>
<p>growing on the plains with a bright yellow flower. There were also in the</p>
<p>bag various bodkins and colouring stones, and two mogos or stone hatchets</p>
<p>(Figure 5). It seemed that our civility had as usual inspired these</p>
<p>savages with a desire to beat our brains out while asleep, and we were</p>
<p>thankful that in effecting their cowardly designs they had been once more</p>
<p>unsuccessful.</p>
<p>A TRIBE COMES FORWARD.</p>
<p>September 21.</p>
<p>Early in the morning a tribe of about forty were seen advancing toward</p>
<p>our camp preceded by the four men who had been previously there. Having</p>
<p>determined that they should not approach us again, I made Piper advance</p>
<p>to them and inquire what they wanted last night behind the bush, pointing</p>
<p>at the same time to the spot. They returned no answer to this question,</p>
<p>but continued to come forward until I ordered a burning bush to be waved</p>
<p>at them and, when they came to a stand without answering Piper&#8217;s</p>
<p>question, I ordered a party of our men to charge them, whereupon they all</p>
<p>scampered off. We saw them upon our encamping ground after we had</p>
<p>proceeded about two miles, but they did not attempt to follow us. Whether</p>
<p>they would find a letter which I had buried there for Mr. Stapylton or</p>
<p>not, we could only hope to discover after that gentleman&#8217;s return to the</p>
<p>colony. It was understood between us that, where a cross was cut in the</p>
<p>turf where my tent had stood, he would find a note under the centre of</p>
<p>the cross. This I buried by merely pushing a stick into the earth and</p>
<p>dropping into the hole thus made the note twisted up like a cigar. The</p>
<p>letter was written chiefly to caution him about these natives. Basalt</p>
<p>appeared in the sides of the ravine which contained the salt lakes and in</p>
<p>equal abundance and of the same quality in that which enclosed the living</p>
<p>stream where it lay in blocks forming small cliffs. Finding at length a</p>
<p>favourable place for crossing this stream, we traversed the ravine and</p>
<p>resumed our direct course towards the southern extremity of a distant</p>
<p>range named Mammala by the natives, the bluff head previously seen from</p>
<p>Mount Abrupt (see above).</p>
<p>FINE COUNTRY FOR COLONISATION.</p>
<p>We now travelled over a country quite open, slightly undulating, and well</p>
<p>covered with grass. To the westward the noble outline of the Grampians</p>
<p>terminated a view extending over vast plains fringed with forests and</p>
<p>embellished with lakes. To the northward appeared other more</p>
<p>accessible-looking hills, some being slightly wooded, some green and</p>
<p>quite clear to their summits, long grassy vales and ridges intervening:</p>
<p>while to the eastward the open plain extended as far as the eye could</p>
<p>reach. Our way lay between distant ranges which in that direction mingled</p>
<p>with the clouds. Thus I had both the low country, which was without</p>
<p>timber, and the well wooded hills within reach, and might choose either</p>
<p>for our route, according to the state of the ground, weather, etc.</p>
<p>Certainly a land more favourable for colonisation could not be found.</p>
<p>Flocks might be turned out upon its hills, or the plough at once set to</p>
<p>work in the plains. No primeval forests required to be first rooted out,</p>
<p>although there was enough of wood for all purposes of utility and as much</p>
<p>also for embellishment as even a painter could wish.</p>
<p>HOLLOWS IN THE DOWNS.</p>
<p>One feature peculiar to that country appeared on these open downs: it</p>
<p>consisted of hollows which, being usually surrounded by a line of yarra</p>
<p>gumtrees or whitebark eucalyptus, seemed at a distance to contain lakes,</p>
<p>but instead of water I found only blocks of vesicular trap, consisting</p>
<p>apparently of granular felspar, and hornblende rock also appeared in the</p>
<p>banks enclosing them. Some of these hollows were of a winding character,</p>
<p>as if they were the remains of ancient watercourses; but if ever currents</p>
<p>flowed there the surface must have undergone considerable alteration</p>
<p>since, for the downs where these hollows appeared were elevated at least</p>
<p>900 feet above the sea and surrounded on all sides by lower ground. There</p>
<p>was an appearance of moisture among the rocks in some of these</p>
<p>depressions; and whether by digging a few feet permanent wells might be</p>
<p>made may be a question worth attention when colonisation extends to that</p>
<p>country. We found on other parts of this open ground large blocks</p>
<p>composed of irregular concretions of ironstone, covered with a thin</p>
<p>coating of compact brown haematite. The purple-ringed Anguillaria dioica,</p>
<p>first seen on Pyramid Hill, again appeared here; and in many places the</p>
<p>ground was quite yellow with the flowers of the cichoraceous plant tao</p>
<p>whose root, small as it is, constitutes the food of the native women and</p>
<p>children. The cattle are very fond of the leaves of this plant and seemed</p>
<p>to thrive upon it. We also found a new bulbine with a delicate yellow</p>
<p>flower being perfectly distinct from both the species described by</p>
<p>Brown.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. This has been planted with the others in the Horticultural</p>
<p>Gardens at Chiswick and was the first to flower there, a head having been</p>
<p>sent to me on the 8th May last by Dr. Lindley who describes it thus:</p>
<p>Bulbine suavis; radice fasciculata, foliis longissimis attenuatis</p>
<p>semiteretibus basi canaliculatis glaucis, racemo erecto multifloro,</p>
<p>petalis oblongis subundulatis sepalis duplo latioribus, staminibus</p>
<p>ascendentibus, filamentis apice stuposis petalinis patentibus sepalinis</p>
<p>erectis apice incurvis brevioribus.)</p>
<p>SNAKES NUMEROUS.</p>
<p>The genial warmth of spring had begun to show its influence on these</p>
<p>plants and also brought the snakes from their holes, for on this day in</p>
<p>particular it was ascertained that twenty-two had been killed by the</p>
<p>party. These were all of that species not venomous I believe which the</p>
<p>natives eat. We encamped near a small clump of trees for the sake of</p>
<p>firewood.</p>
<p>September 22.</p>
<p>This day&#8217;s journey lay chiefly across open downs with wooded hills</p>
<p>occasionally to the left. On the southward these downs extended to the</p>
<p>horizon: and several isolated hills at great distances, apparently of</p>
<p>trap, presented an outline like the volcanic Mount Napier. All the</p>
<p>various small rivulets we traversed in our line of route seemed to flow</p>
<p>in that direction. Having crossed three of these we encamped on the right</p>
<p>bank of the fourth. The hills on our left were of granite and as</p>
<p>different as possible in appearance from the mountains to the westward</p>
<p>which were all of red sandstone. In the afternoon there was a</p>
<p>thunderstorm but the sky became again perfectly serene in the evening.</p>
<p>September 23.</p>
<p>This morning a thick fog hung over us; but having well reconnoitred the</p>
<p>country beyond I knew that I might travel in a straight line over open</p>
<p>ground for several miles. When the fog arose some finely wooded hills</p>
<p>appeared on our right; but after advancing seven miles on good firm earth</p>
<p>we again came upon very soft ground which obliged us to turn and wind and</p>
<p>pick our way wherever the surface seemed most likely to bear us.</p>
<p>NATIVE FEMALES.</p>
<p>The fog was succeeded by a fine warm day, and as we proceeded we saw two</p>
<p>gins and their children at work separately on a swampy meadow; and, quick</p>
<p>as the sight of these natives is, we had travelled long within view</p>
<p>before they observed us. They were spread over the field much in the</p>
<p>manner in which emus and kangaroos feed on plains, and we observed them</p>
<p>digging in the ground for roots. All carried bags and when Piper went</p>
<p>towards them they ran with great speed across the vast open plains to the</p>
<p>southward.</p>
<p>CATTLE TRACKS.</p>
<p>This day we perceived the fresh track of several bullocks, a very</p>
<p>extraordinary circumstance in that situation. The beautiful</p>
<p>yellow-wreathed acacia was not to be seen after we quitted the open</p>
<p>country. The ground was becoming almost hopelessly soft, when we reached</p>
<p>a small run of water from the hills and, by keeping along its bank, we</p>
<p>had the good fortune to reach an extremity of the range where the solid</p>
<p>granite was as welcome to our feet as a dry beach is to shipwrecked</p>
<p>seamen.</p>
<p>ASCEND MOUNT COLE.</p>
<p>We had at length arrived under Mammala, the bluff hill which had been my</p>
<p>landmark from the time I left Mr. Stapylton. I found this was the</p>
<p>southern extremity of a lofty range which I lost no time in ascending</p>
<p>after I had fixed on a spot for the camp. It consisted of huge blocks of</p>
<p>granite,* and was crowned with such lofty timber that I could only catch</p>
<p>occasional peeps of the surrounding country: nevertheless I obtained, by</p>
<p>moving about among the trees with my pocket sextant, almost all the</p>
<p>angles I wanted; and I thus connected the survey of the region I was</p>
<p>leaving with that I was about to enter. My first view over this eastern</p>
<p>country was extensive, and when I at length descended to a projecting</p>
<p>rock I found the prospect extremely promising, the land being variegated</p>
<p>with open plains and strips of forest, and studded with smooth green</p>
<p>hills of the most beautiful forms. In the extreme distance a range much</p>
<p>resembling that on which I stood declined at its southern extremity in</p>
<p>the same manner as this did, and thus left me a passage precisely in the</p>
<p>most direct line of route homewards.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. Consisting of pink felspar, white quartz and silvery mica.)</p>
<p>ENTER ON A GRANITE COUNTRY.</p>
<p>The carts had still however to cross the range at which we had arrived</p>
<p>and which, as I perceived here, not only extended southward but also</p>
<p>broke into bold ravines on the eastern side, being connected with some</p>
<p>noble hills, or rather mountains, all grassy to their summits, thinly</p>
<p>wooded and consisting wholly of granite. They resembled very much some</p>
<p>hills of the lower Pyrenees in Spain, only that they were more grassy and</p>
<p>less acclivitous, and I named this hill Mount Cole. To the southward the</p>
<p>sea-haze dimmed the horizon: but I perceived the eastern margin of a</p>
<p>large piece of water bearing south-south-east, and which I supposed might</p>
<p>be Cadong. It was sheltered on the south-east by elevated ground</p>
<p>apparently very distant, but no high range appeared between us and that</p>
<p>inlet of the sea. On the contrary the heights extending southward from</p>
<p>this summit, being connected with the highest and most southern hills</p>
<p>visible from it, seemed to be the only high land or separation of the</p>
<p>waters falling north and south. With such a country before us I bade</p>
<p>adieu to swamps and returned well pleased to the camp, being guided to it</p>
<p>only by the gushing torrent, for I had remained on the hill as long as</p>
<p>daylight lasted.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>29 August &#8211; 13 September</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/tm-journals-29-aug-13-sep/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/tm-journals-29-aug-13-sep/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 15 Sep 2010 00:28:13 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=441</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[BEACH OF PORTLAND BAY.
On reaching the seashore at this beach I turned to observe the face of
Tommy Came-last, one of my followers who, being a native from the
interior, had never before seen the sea. I could not discover in the face
of this young savage, even on his first view of the ocean, any expression
of surprise; [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>BEACH OF PORTLAND BAY.</p>
<p>On reaching the seashore at this beach I turned to observe the face of<br />
Tommy Came-last, one of my followers who, being a native from the<br />
interior, had never before seen the sea. I could not discover in the face<br />
of this young savage, even on his first view of the ocean, any expression<br />
of surprise; on the contrary the placid and comprehensive gaze he cast<br />
over it seemed fully to embrace the grand expanse then for the first time<br />
opened to him.</p>
<p>A VESSEL AT ANCHOR. HOUSE AND FARMING ESTABLISHMENT THERE.<br />
I was much more astonished when he soon after came to tell me of the<br />
fresh tracks of cattle that he had found on the shore, and the shoemarks<br />
of a white man. He also brought me portions of tobacco-pipes and a glass<br />
bottle without a neck. That whaling vessels occasionally touched there I<br />
was aware, as was indeed obvious from the carcasses and bones of whales<br />
on the beach; but how cattle could have been brought there I did not<br />
understand. Proceeding round the bay with the intention of examining the<br />
head of an inlet and continuing along shore as far as Cape Bridgewater, I<br />
was struck with the resemblance to houses that some supposed grey rocks<br />
under the grassy cliffs presented; and while I directed my glass towards<br />
them my servant Brown said he saw a brig at anchor; a fact of which I was<br />
soon convinced and also that the grey rocks were in reality wooden<br />
houses. The most northern part of the shore of this bay was comparatively<br />
low, but the western consisted of bold cliffs rising to the height of 180<br />
feet.</p>
<p>We ascended these cliffs near the wooden houses which proved to be some<br />
deserted sheds of the whalers. One shot was heard as we drew near them<br />
and another on our ascending the rocks. I then became somewhat<br />
apprehensive that the parties might either be, or suppose us to be,<br />
bushrangers and, to prevent if possible some such awkward mistake, I<br />
ordered a man to fire a gun and the bugle to be sounded; but on reaching<br />
the higher ground we discovered not only a beaten path but the track of<br />
two carts, and while we were following the latter a man came towards us<br />
from the face of the cliffs. He informed me in answer to my questions<br />
that the vessel at anchor was the Elizabeth of Launceston; and that just<br />
round the point there was a considerable farming establishment belonging<br />
to Messrs. Henty, who were then at the house. It then occurred to me that<br />
I might there procure a small additional supply of provisions, especially<br />
of flour, as my men were on very reduced rations. I therefore approached<br />
the house and was kindly received and entertained by the Messrs. Henty<br />
who as I learnt had been established there during upwards of two years.</p>
<p>It was very obvious indeed from the magnitude and extent of the buildings<br />
and the substantial fencing erected that both time and labour had been<br />
expended in their construction. A good garden stocked with abundance of<br />
vegetables already smiled on Portland Bay; the soil was very rich on the<br />
overhanging cliffs, and the potatoes and turnips produced there surpassed<br />
in magnitude and quality any I had ever seen elsewhere.</p>
<p>WHALE FISHERY.</p>
<p>I learnt that the bay was much resorted to by vessels engaged in the</p>
<p>whale fishery and that upwards of 700 tons of oil had been shipped that</p>
<p>season. I was likewise informed that only a few days before my arrival</p>
<p>five vessels lay at anchor together in that bay, and that a communication</p>
<p>was regularly kept up with Van Diemen&#8217;s Land by means of vessels from</p>
<p>Launceston. Messrs. Henty were importing sheep and cattle as fast as</p>
<p>vessels could be found to bring them over, and the numerous whalers</p>
<p>touching at or fishing on the coast were found to be good customers for</p>
<p>farm produce and whatever else could be spared from the establishment.</p>
<p>Portland Bay is well sheltered from all winds except the east-south-east,</p>
<p>and the anchorage is so good that a vessel is said to have rode out a</p>
<p>gale even from this quarter. The part of the western shore where the land</p>
<p>is highest shelters a small bay which might be made a tolerable harbour</p>
<p>by means of two piers or quays erected on reefs of a kind of rock</p>
<p>apparently very favourable for the purpose, namely amygdaloidal trap in</p>
<p>rounded boulders. The present anchorage in four fathoms is on the outside</p>
<p>of these reefs, and the water in this little bay is in general smooth</p>
<p>enough for the landing of boats. A fine stream falls into the bay there</p>
<p>and the situation seems altogether a most eligible one for the site of a</p>
<p>town. The rock is trap consisting principally of felspar; and the soil is</p>
<p>excellent as was amply testified by the luxuriant vegetation in Mr.</p>
<p>Henty&#8217;s garden.</p>
<p>EXCURSION TO CAPE NELSON.</p>
<p>August 30.</p>
<p>I proceeded with the theodolite to a height near Cape Nelson and from it</p>
<p>I intersected that cape and also Cape Bridgewater, Cape Sir William</p>
<p>Grant, the islands to the eastward, etc.</p>
<p>MOUNT KINCAID.</p>
<p>I here recognised also the high hill which appeared within these capes</p>
<p>when first seen from the westward. It formed the most elevated part of</p>
<p>the Rifle range at its termination on the coast and I was informed by Mr.</p>
<p>Henty that there was a fine lake at its base. I named the hill Mount</p>
<p>Kincaid after my old and esteemed friend of Peninsular recollections.</p>
<p>Returning to the party at Portland Bay where I had left my sextant, I</p>
<p>then obtained a good observation on the sun&#8217;s meridian altitude. I was</p>
<p>accommodated with a small supply of flour by Messrs. Henty who, having</p>
<p>been themselves on short allowance, were awaiting the arrival of a vessel</p>
<p>then due two weeks. They also supplied us with as many vegetables as the</p>
<p>men could carry away on their horses.</p>
<p>A WHALE CHASE.</p>
<p>Just as I was about to leave the place a whale was announced and</p>
<p>instantly three boats well manned were seen cutting through the water, a</p>
<p>harpooneer standing up at the stern of each with oar in hand and</p>
<p>assisting the rowers by a forward movement at each stroke. It was not the</p>
<p>least interesting scene in these my Australian travels thus to witness</p>
<p>from a verandah on a beautiful afternoon at Portland Bay the humours of</p>
<p>the whale fishery and all those wondrous perils of harpooneers and whale</p>
<p>boats of which I had delighted to read as scenes of the stormy north. The</p>
<p>object of the present pursuit was &#8220;a hunchback&#8221; and it being likely to</p>
<p>occupy the boats for some time I proceeded homewards.</p>
<p>SAGACITY OF THE NATIVES ON THE COAST.</p>
<p>I understood it frequently happened that several parties of fishermen</p>
<p>left by different whaling vessels would engage in the pursuit of the same</p>
<p>whale, and that in the struggle for possession the whale would</p>
<p>occasionally escape from them all and run ashore, in which case it is of</p>
<p>little value to whalers as the removal, etc., would be too tedious and</p>
<p>they in such cases carry away part of the head matter only. The natives</p>
<p>never approach these whalers, nor had they ever shown themselves to the</p>
<p>white people of Portland Bay but, as they have taken to eat the castaway</p>
<p>whales, it is their custom to send up a column of smoke when a whale</p>
<p>appears in the bay, and the fishers understand the signal. This affords</p>
<p>an instance of the sagacity of the natives for they must have reflected</p>
<p>that, by thus giving timely notice, a greater number will become</p>
<p>competitors for the whale and that consequently there will be a better</p>
<p>chance of the whale running ashore, in which case a share must fall</p>
<p>finally to them. The fishers whom I saw were fine able fellows; and with</p>
<p>their large ships and courageous struggles with the whales they must seem</p>
<p>terrible men of the sea to the natives. The neat trim of their boats set</p>
<p>up on stanchions on the beach looked well, with oars and in perfect</p>
<p>readiness to dash at the moment&#8217;s notice into the angry surge. Upon the</p>
<p>whole, what with the perils they undergo and their incessant labour in</p>
<p>boiling the oil, these men do not earn too cheaply the profits derived</p>
<p>from that kind of speculation. I saw on the shore the wreck of a fine</p>
<p>boat which had been cut in two by a single stroke of the tail of a whale.</p>
<p>The men were about to cast their net into the sea to procure a supply of</p>
<p>fish for us when the whale suddenly engaged all hands.</p>
<p>We returned along the shore of the bay, intersecting at its estuary the</p>
<p>mouth of the little river last crossed and which, at the request of Mr.</p>
<p>Henty, I have named the Surry. This river enters Portland Bay in latitude</p>
<p>38 degrees 15 minutes 43 seconds South; longitude (by my survey)141</p>
<p>degrees 58 minutes East. We encamped on the rich grassy land just beyond</p>
<p>and I occupied for the night a snug old hut of the natives.</p>
<p>August 31.</p>
<p>Early this morning Richardson caught a fine bream and I had indeed been</p>
<p>informed by Messrs. Henty that these streams abound with this fish.</p>
<p>MOUNT CLAY.</p>
<p>On ascending the highest point of the hill immediately behind the estuary</p>
<p>of the Surry and which I named Mount Clay, I found it consisted of good</p>
<p>forest land, and that its ramifications extended over as much as three</p>
<p>miles. Beyond it we descended into the valley of the Fitzroy, and at noon</p>
<p>I ascertained the latitude where we had before forded it to be 38 degrees</p>
<p>8 minutes 51 seconds South. The river had risen in the interim a foot and</p>
<p>a half, so that we were obliged to carry the flour across on the heads of</p>
<p>the men wading up to the neck. When we reached the summit of Mount</p>
<p>Eckersley, the horizon being clear, I completed my series of angles on</p>
<p>points visible from that station by observing the Julian Island and Mount</p>
<p>Abrupt, two of great importance in my survey which were hidden from our</p>
<p>sight by the squally weather when I was last on this hill.</p>
<p>RETURN TO THE CAMP.</p>
<p>We reached the camp about sunset and found all right there, the carts</p>
<p>having been drawn out of the bogs, all the claw-chains repaired by the</p>
<p>blacksmith, our hatchets resteeled, and two new shafts made for the heavy</p>
<p>carts. Piper had during our absence killed abundance of kangaroos, and I</p>
<p>now rejoiced at his success on account of the aboriginal portion of our</p>
<p>party for whose stomachs, being of savage capacity, quantity was a more</p>
<p>important consideration than quality in the article of food, and we were</p>
<p>then living on a very reduced scale of rations. On my return from such</p>
<p>excursions The Widow and her child frequently gave notice of our approach</p>
<p>long before we reached the camp: their quick ears seemed sensible of the</p>
<p>sound of horses&#8217; feet at an astonishing distance, for in no other way</p>
<p>could the men account for the notice which Turandurey and her child,</p>
<p>seated at their own fire, were always the first to give of my return,</p>
<p>sometimes long before our appearance at the camp. Piper was usually the</p>
<p>first to meet me and assure me of the safety of the party, as if he had</p>
<p>taken care of it during my absence; and I encouraged his sense of</p>
<p>responsibility by giving him credit for the security they had enjoyed. A</p>
<p>serene evening, lovely in itself, looked doubly beautiful then as our</p>
<p>hopes of getting home were inseparable from fine weather, for on this</p>
<p>chance our final escape from the mud and bogs seemed very much to depend.</p>
<p>The barometer however indicated rather doubtfully.</p>
<p>September 1.</p>
<p>Heavy rain and fog detained us in the same camp this morning and I</p>
<p>availed myself of the day for the purpose of laying down my recent</p>
<p>survey. The results satisfied me that the coastline on the engraved map</p>
<p>was very defective and indeed the indentations extended so much deeper</p>
<p>into the land that I still entertained hopes of finding some important</p>
<p>inlet to the eastward, analogous to that remarkable break of the mountain</p>
<p>chain at Mount William.</p>
<p>STILL RETARDED BY THE SOFT SOIL.</p>
<p>September 2.</p>
<p>We travelled as much in a north-east direction as the ground permitted</p>
<p>but, although I should most willingly have followed the connecting</p>
<p>features whatever their directions, I could not avoid the passage of</p>
<p>various swamps or boggy soft hollows in which the carts and more</p>
<p>especially the boat-carriage, notwithstanding the greatest exertions on</p>
<p>the part of the men, again sank up to the axles. I had proceeded with the</p>
<p>light carts and one heavy cart nearly nine miles while the boat-carriage</p>
<p>fell at least six miles behind me, the other heavy carts having also been</p>
<p>retarded from the necessity for yoking additional teams to the cattle</p>
<p>drawing the boats. The weather was still unsettled and the continued</p>
<p>rains had at length made the surface so soft that even to ride over it</p>
<p>was in many places difficult. I had reached some fine forest land on the</p>
<p>bank of a running stream where the features were bolder, and I hoped to</p>
<p>arrive soon at the good country near the head of the Wannon. I encamped</p>
<p>without much hope that the remainder of the party could join us that</p>
<p>night and they in fact did remain six miles behind. I had never been more</p>
<p>puzzled in my travels than I was with respect to the nature of the</p>
<p>country before us then. Mount Napier bore 74 degrees East of North</p>
<p>distant about 16 miles. The little rivulet was flowing northward, and yet</p>
<p>we had not reached the interior side of that elevated though swampy</p>
<p>ground dividing the fine valleys we had seen further westward from the</p>
<p>country sloping towards the sea.</p>
<p>LEAVE ONE OF THE BOATS, AND REDUCE THE SIZE OF THE BOAT CARRIAGE.</p>
<p>September 3.</p>
<p>This morning we had steady rain accompanied as usual by a north-west</p>
<p>wind; I remarked also that at any rise of the barometer after such rain</p>
<p>the wind changed to the south-east in situations near the coast, or to</p>
<p>the north-east when we were more inland. I sent back the cattle we had</p>
<p>brought forward to this camp to assist those behind, and in the meanwhile</p>
<p>Mr. Stapylton took a ride along the ridge on which we were encamped in</p>
<p>order to ascertain its direction. Towards evening Burnett returned from</p>
<p>the carts with the intelligence that the boat-carriage could not be got</p>
<p>out of the swamps and that, after the men had succeeded in raising it</p>
<p>with levers and had drawn it some way, it had again sunk and thus delayed</p>
<p>the carts, but that the latter were at length coming on, two men having</p>
<p>been left behind with the boat-carriage. Mr. Stapylton returned in the</p>
<p>afternoon having ascertained that a swamp of upwards of a mile in breadth</p>
<p>and extending north and south as far as he could see lay straight before</p>
<p>us, and he had concluded that the rivulet upon which we were then</p>
<p>encamped turned into it. Under such circumstances we could not hope to be</p>
<p>able to travel much further with the boats, nor even indeed with the</p>
<p>carts unless we found ground with a firmer surface in the country before</p>
<p>us. Ere we could reach the nearest habitations of civilised men we had</p>
<p>yet to traverse 400 miles of a country intersected by the highest</p>
<p>mountains and watered by the largest rivers known in New Holland.</p>
<p>September 4.</p>
<p>Although the boats and their carriage had been of late a great hindrance</p>
<p>to us I was very unwilling to abandon such useful appendages to an</p>
<p>exploring party, having already drawn them overland nearly 3000 miles. A</p>
<p>promising part of the coast might still be explored, large rivers were to</p>
<p>be crossed, and we had already found boats useful on such occasions. One</p>
<p>however might answer these temporary purposes, since for the main object,</p>
<p>the exploration of inland seas, they could not possibly be wanted. We had</p>
<p>two and the outer one, which was both larger and heavier than the inner,</p>
<p>had been shaken so much when suspended without the thwarts that she was</p>
<p>almost unserviceable in the water, and very leaky as we had lately found</p>
<p>in exploring the Glenelg. She had in fact all along served as a case for</p>
<p>the inner boat, which could thus be kept distended by the thwarts and was</p>
<p>consequently in excellent repair and in every respect the best. I</p>
<p>determined therefore to abandon the outer boat and shorten the carriage</p>
<p>so that the fore and hind wheels would be brought two feet nearer each</p>
<p>other. I expected from this arrangement that, instead of boats retarding</p>
<p>the party, this one might thus be drawn in advance with the light carts.</p>
<p>EXCURSION TO MOUNT NAPIER.</p>
<p>Having directed the alteration to be made during my intended absence I</p>
<p>set out for Mount Napier and soon found the broad swamp before me. After</p>
<p>riding up an arm of it to the left for a mile and a half I found it</p>
<p>passable and, having crossed, we proceeded towards the hill by a rather</p>
<p>circuitous route but over a fine tract of country although then very soft</p>
<p>under our horses&#8217; feet.</p>
<p>CROSS SOME FINE STREAMS.</p>
<p>We next reached a deeper ravine where the land on each side was more open</p>
<p>and also firmer, while a small rivulet flowing through it amongst bushes</p>
<p>was easily crossed, and we ascended some fine rising ground beyond it.</p>
<p>Rich flats then extended before us and we arrived at an open grassy</p>
<p>valley where a beautiful little stream resembling a river in miniature</p>
<p>was flowing rapidly. Two very substantial huts showed that even the</p>
<p>natives had been attracted by the beauty of the spot and, as the day was</p>
<p>showery, I wished to return if possible to pass the night there, for I</p>
<p>began to learn that such huts with a good fire before them made very</p>
<p>comfortable quarters in bad weather.</p>
<p>NATIVES VERY TIMID.</p>
<p>We had heard voices in the woods several times this day but their</p>
<p>inhabitants seemed as timid as kangaroos and not more likely to come near</p>
<p>us. The blue mass of Mount Napier was visible occasionally through the</p>
<p>trees, but I found as we proceeded that we were not so near it as I had</p>
<p>supposed, for at three miles beyond the little stream we came upon one of</p>
<p>greater magnitude, a small river flowing southward with open grassy banks</p>
<p>in which two kinds of trap-rock appeared. The edge of a thin layer of the</p>
<p>lowest, a nearly decomposed trap, projected over the stream; the other</p>
<p>lay in rounded blocks in the face of the hill above, and appeared to be</p>
<p>decomposed amygdaloid, principally felspar. The river ran through a</p>
<p>valley where the forest land was remarkably open, being sprinkled with</p>
<p>only a few trees as in a park, and this stream appeared to fall into the</p>
<p>head of the extensive swamp already mentioned. About a mile beyond the</p>
<p>river (which I named the Shaw) we came upon the extremities of Mount</p>
<p>Napier, for at least so I considered some rough sharp-pointed fragments</p>
<p>of rock laying about in heaps, which we found it very difficult and</p>
<p>tedious to ride over: indeed so sharp-edged and large were these rocks on</p>
<p>the slopes of the terraces they formed that we were often obliged to</p>
<p>dismount and lead our horses. In these fragments I recognised the</p>
<p>cellular character of the rocks I had noticed in the bed of the Shaw. The</p>
<p>rock here might have been taken for decomposed amygdaloid but, having</p>
<p>found the vestiges of an old crater in the summit of the hill, I was</p>
<p>induced to consider it an ancient lava. The reefs at Portland Bay consist</p>
<p>of the same rock in rounded nodules, a more compact trap-rock consisting</p>
<p>principally of felspar lying above them, as was observable in the section</p>
<p>of the coast. In some of the fragments on Mount Napier these cells or</p>
<p>pores were several inches in diameter and, unlike amygdaloidal rocks, all</p>
<p>were quite empty. The surface consisted wholly of this stone, without any</p>
<p>intermediate soil to soften its asperity under the feet of our horses,</p>
<p>and yet it was covered with a wood of eucalyptus and mimosa, growing</p>
<p>there as on the open forest land between which and this stony region the</p>
<p>chief difference consisted in the ruggedness of surface, this being</p>
<p>broken as already stated into irregular terraces where loose stones lay</p>
<p>in irregular heaps and hollows, most resembling old stone quarries. We</p>
<p>travelled over three miles of this rough surface before we reached the</p>
<p>base of the cone.</p>
<p>CRATER OF MOUNT NAPIER OR MURROA.</p>
<p>On the sides of it we found some soft red earth mixed with fragments of</p>
<p>lava and on reaching the summit I found myself on the narrow edge of a</p>
<p>circular crater composed wholly of lava and scoriae. Trees and bushes</p>
<p>grew luxuriantly everywhere except where the sharp rocks shot up almost</p>
<p>perpendicularly. The igneous character of these was so obvious that one</p>
<p>of the men thrust his hand into a chasm to ascertain whether it was warm.</p>
<p>VIEW FROM THE SUMMIT.</p>
<p>The discovery of an extinct volcano gave additional interest to Mount</p>
<p>Napier, but it was by no means a better station for the theodolite on</p>
<p>that account; on the contrary it was the worst possible for, as the trees</p>
<p>grew on the edge of the crater, no one station could be found to afford a</p>
<p>view of the horizon until the whole circumference was cleared of the</p>
<p>trees, and this was too great a work for us at that visit. Mount William</p>
<p>and the Grampian range presented a noble outline to the northward. The</p>
<p>sun had set before I could recognise distant points in the highly</p>
<p>interesting country to be seen from this remarkable hill. The weather was</p>
<p>also unfavourable and I descended to pass the night at its base in hopes</p>
<p>that the next morning might be clear.</p>
<p>RETURN TO THE CAMP.</p>
<p>On reaching the spot where I had left the horses I found that our native</p>
<p>friend Tommy Came-last could discover no water in any of the numerous</p>
<p>hollows around the hill and, though the superabundance of this element</p>
<p>had caused the chief impediment to our progress through the country at</p>
<p>that time, we were obliged to pass a night most uncomfortably from the</p>
<p>total want of it at the base of Mount Napier. The spongy-looking rocks</p>
<p>were however dry enough to sleep upon, a quality of which the soil in</p>
<p>general had been rather deficient, as most of us felt in our muscles. I</p>
<p>perceived a remarkable uniformity in the size of the trees, very few of</p>
<p>which were dead or fallen. From this circumstance, together with the</p>
<p>deficiency of the soil and the sharp edge of the rock generally, some</p>
<p>might conclude that the volcano had been in activity at no very remote</p>
<p>period.</p>
<p>September 5.</p>
<p>A thick fog hung upon the mountain until half-past 10 A.M. and when I</p>
<p>ascended an extremity I could see nothing of the distance. I had however</p>
<p>ascertained the nature of the country thus far, this having been the</p>
<p>object of my visit and, as I had resolved from what I had seen to pass to</p>
<p>the northward at no great distance from this hill, I returned with less</p>
<p>reluctance, in hopes that I might have it in my power yet to revisit it</p>
<p>during more favourable weather. The day was squally with several very</p>
<p>heavy showers, the wind being from the south-west. We saw two natives at</p>
<p>a fire when we were returning, and our friend Tommy readily advanced</p>
<p>towards them but they immediately set up such loud and incessant cries</p>
<p>that I called to him to come away. After a ride of twenty-six miles</p>
<p>across swamps and many muddy hollows we reached soon after sunset the</p>
<p>camp which I had directed to be moved back to near where the boats lay. I</p>
<p>found that these had been drawn out of the swamp and one only brought</p>
<p>forward as I wished to this camp and where I found all the carts once</p>
<p>more ranged together. The alteration of the boat carriage required a</p>
<p>little more time, and I accordingly determined to halt one day that we</p>
<p>might also have our horses shod, several shoes having come off on the</p>
<p>rough rocks near Mount Napier.</p>
<p>MR. STAPYLTON&#8217;S EXCURSION TO THE NORTH-WEST.</p>
<p>September 6.</p>
<p>This day I requested Mr. Stapylton to examine the country in a north-west</p>
<p>direction. Some of the swamps crossed by me yesterday had appeared to</p>
<p>fall westward and I wished to ascertain the situation and character of</p>
<p>the ground dividing them from those discharging their waters eastward or</p>
<p>towards the sea, as it was only by keeping on that dividing ground that I</p>
<p>could hope to avoid them. Mr. Stapylton proceeded nine miles north-west,</p>
<p>crossing many swampy flats, and at length a small rivulet, all falling</p>
<p>westward. Beyond the rivulet he got upon some good hills connected with</p>
<p>higher land. Our best line of route homewards was in a north-east</p>
<p>direction, or at rightangles to the route of Mr. Stapylton.</p>
<p>THE SHAW.</p>
<p>The great swamp already mentioned, being the channel and recipient of the</p>
<p>Shaw, was somewhat in my way, and my object now was to trace out the</p>
<p>dividing ground as we proceeded, so as to avoid the swamps on both sides.</p>
<p>By sunset the single boat was mounted in the shortened carriage, the</p>
<p>whole being now so manageable and light that the boat could be lifted out</p>
<p>by hand without block and tackle; and when on the carriage she could be</p>
<p>drawn with ease wherever the light carts could pass. Thus we got rid of</p>
<p>that heavy clog on our progress over soft ground, the boats, by reserving</p>
<p>but one; and we left the larger, keel upwards, at the swamp which had</p>
<p>occasioned so much delay.</p>
<p>CONDUCT THE CARTS ALONG THE HIGHEST GROUND.</p>
<p>September 7.</p>
<p>Having chosen for a general line of route the bearing most likely to</p>
<p>avoid the swamps according to the knowledge I had gained of the country,</p>
<p>I proceeded as these and the soft ground permitted, and had the singular</p>
<p>and indeed unexpected good fortune to come upon my horse&#8217;s track from</p>
<p>Mount Napier without having even seen the large swamp. The boat-carriage</p>
<p>now travelled with the light carts, and we at length reached the first</p>
<p>running stream at a short distance below where I had previously crossed</p>
<p>it. The bottom was boggy and the water flowed in two channels, the ground</p>
<p>between them being very soft. The whole party crossed it, with the</p>
<p>exception of two carts which did not arrive, and we encamped on the bank</p>
<p>beyond after a journey of about eight miles. Near this stream we found a</p>
<p>pretty new species of Dillwynia, with plain yellow flowers, clustered on</p>
<p>a long stalk at the end of the branches, and with curiously hairy</p>
<p>heath-like leaves. It resembles D. peduncularis but proved, on</p>
<p>examination, to be distinct.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. D. hispida, Lindley manuscripts; ramulis hispidulis, foliis</p>
<p>linearibus patulis verrucosis obtusis hispidulis, corymbis longe</p>
<p>pedunculatis terminalibus laxis paucifloris, pedunculo glaberrimo,</p>
<p>pedicellis calycibusque pubescentibus.)</p>
<p>At this spot we found a very small bower of twigs, only large enough to</p>
<p>contain a child: the floor was hollowed out and filled with dry leaves</p>
<p>and feathers; and the ground around had been cut smooth, several boughs</p>
<p>having been also bent over it so as to be fixed in the ground at both</p>
<p>ends. The whole seemed connected with some mystic ceremony of the</p>
<p>aborigines, but which the male natives who were with us could not</p>
<p>explain. The gins however on being questioned said it was usual to</p>
<p>prepare such a bower for the reception of a new-born child. Kangaroos</p>
<p>were more numerous in this part of the country than in any other that we</p>
<p>had traversed. I counted twenty-three in one flock which passed before me</p>
<p>as I stood silently by a tree. Two of the men counted fifty-seven in</p>
<p>another flock, and it was not unusual for them to approach our camp as if</p>
<p>from curiosity, on which occasions two or three were occasionally caught</p>
<p>by our dogs.</p>
<p>September 8.</p>
<p>The remainder of the heavy carts not having come up, I left the two with</p>
<p>us to await their arrival that the men might assist the drivers with</p>
<p>their teams in crossing this stream. On proceeding then with the light</p>
<p>carts only I crossed several soft bad places, and one or two fine small</p>
<p>rivulets, encamping at last where we again fell in with my horse&#8217;s track,</p>
<p>on an open space about eight miles from Mount Napier. During the day&#8217;s</p>
<p>journey we traversed some fine open forest hills near the banks of</p>
<p>rivulets. We generally found the south-eastern slope of such heights very</p>
<p>indistinct, and the ground soft, boggy and covered with banksias. The</p>
<p>rock in such places consisted of the same cellular trap so common on this</p>
<p>side of the Grampians. Our camp lay between two swamps for no better</p>
<p>ground appeared on any side. I hoped however to obtain a more general</p>
<p>knowledge of the surrounding country from Mount Napier during clear</p>
<p>weather, and thus to discover some way by which we might make our escape</p>
<p>to the northward. The carts did not overtake us this day, and I</p>
<p>determined when they should arrive to overhaul them and throw away every</p>
<p>article of weight not absolutely required for the rest of the journey.</p>
<p>AGAIN ASCEND MURROA AND PARTIALLY CLEAR THE SUMMIT.</p>
<p>September 9.</p>
<p>Once more I set out for Mount Napier, followed by a party of men with</p>
<p>axes to clear its summit, at least sufficiently for the purpose of taking</p>
<p>angles with the theodolite. The night had been clear and the morning was</p>
<p>fine, but as soon as I had ascended the hill rain-clouds gathered in the</p>
<p>south-west and obscured the horizon on all sides; I could only see some</p>
<p>points at intervals, but I took as many as I could after the men had</p>
<p>cleared a station for the theodolite. I perceived two very extensive</p>
<p>lakes in the low country between Mount Napier and the south-eastern</p>
<p>portion of the Grampian range, which terminated in the hill that I had</p>
<p>previously named Mount Abrupt. Between the largest of these waters</p>
<p>(called by me Lake Linlithgow) and the mountains there appeared an</p>
<p>extensive tract of open grassy land.</p>
<p>MOUNT ROUSE.</p>
<p>To the eastward at the distance of twelve miles I perceived a solitary</p>
<p>hill, somewhat resembling Mount Napier, and named it Mount Rouse; but a</p>
<p>haze still concealed the more distant country. On reaching the camp where</p>
<p>we arrived in the dark, I found that the carts had not even then</p>
<p>returned; but as the barometer promised better weather I did not much</p>
<p>regret their non-arrival as the delay would afford me another chance of</p>
<p>having a clear day on Mount Napier.</p>
<p>September 10.</p>
<p>I again proceeded to the hill and obtained at length a clear and</p>
<p>extensive view from it in all directions. In the north the Grampian</p>
<p>range, on all sides grand, presented a new and striking outline on this.</p>
<p>Far in the west I could recognise in slight breaks on a low horizon some</p>
<p>features of the valley of Nangeela (Glenelg).</p>
<p>AUSTRALIAN PYRENEES.</p>
<p>Eastward the summits of a range I thought of naming the Australian</p>
<p>Pyrenees were just visible over a woody horizon; and to the south-east</p>
<p>were several detached hills and some elevated ridges of forest land,</p>
<p>apparently near the coast. One isolated hill resembling a haystack was</p>
<p>very remarkable on the seashore. This I named Mount Hotspur being the</p>
<p>only elevation near Lady Julia Percy&#8217;s Isle (not Isles as laid down on</p>
<p>the charts for there is but one, now called by whalers the Julian</p>
<p>Island). To the southward I could just distinguish the Laurence Islands</p>
<p>but a haze upon the coast prevented me from seeing that of Lady Julia</p>
<p>Percy. Smoke arose from many parts of the lower country and showed that</p>
<p>the inhabitants were very generally scattered over its surface. We could</p>
<p>now look on such fires with indifference, so harmless were these natives</p>
<p>compared with those on the Darling, and the smoke now ascended in equal</p>
<p>abundance from the furthest verge of the horizon. It was impossible to</p>
<p>discover the sources of streams or the direction of any ranges visible in</p>
<p>the surrounding country; but upon the whole I concluded that the only</p>
<p>practicable route for us homewards at that time would be through the</p>
<p>forests and by passing as near as possible to the base of Mount Abrupt,</p>
<p>the south-eastern extremity of the Grampians. Several forest hills stood</p>
<p>above the extensive level country extending from our camp to Mount</p>
<p>Abrupt, but I could trace no connection between these hills, and was</p>
<p>rather apprehensive that a soft and swampy country intervened.</p>
<p>CRATER OF MOUNT NAPIER.</p>
<p>I had this day leisure to examine the crater on this hill more</p>
<p>particularly and found its breadth to be 446 feet; its average depth 80</p>
<p>feet. The cellular rocks and lava stood nearly perpendicular around one</p>
<p>portion of it; but there was a gap towards the west-north-west, on which</p>
<p>side the crater was open almost to its greatest depth. (See Plate 22.)</p>
<p>Several deep tongues of land descended from it to the west and</p>
<p>north-west, forming the base of the hill, and had somewhat of the</p>
<p>regularity of water-worn features. No marks of decomposition appeared in</p>
<p>the fragments projecting from the highest points, however much exposed.</p>
<p>On the contrary all the stringy twisted marks of fusion were as sharp and</p>
<p>fresh as if the lava had but recently cooled. One species of moss very</p>
<p>much resembled the Orchilla, and I thought it not impossible that this</p>
<p>valuable weed might be found here as it occurred on similar rocks at</p>
<p>Teneriffe. Just as I reached the highest summit this morning a</p>
<p>bronze-wing pigeon arose from it; a circumstance rather remarkable</p>
<p>considering that this was the only bird of that species seen on this side</p>
<p>the mountains besides the one we saw on Pigeon Ponds on the 3rd of</p>
<p>August. On returning to the camp I found that the carts had arrived soon</p>
<p>after my departure in the morning; but the men had the misfortune to lose</p>
<p>two bullocks in crossing the swampy stream where we had been previously</p>
<p>encamped. One was suffocated in the mud, and the other having lain down</p>
<p>in it could not be made to rise. By observing the stars alpha and beta</p>
<p>Centauri I ascertained the magnetic variation to be 3 degrees 2 minutes</p>
<p>45 seconds East, and by the sun&#8217;s altitude observed this day at Mount</p>
<p>Napier I found the latitude of that hill to be 37 degrees 52 minutes 29</p>
<p>seconds South.</p>
<p>September 11.</p>
<p>In order to lighten the carts as much as possible I caused the</p>
<p>packsaddles to be placed on the spare bullocks, and various articles</p>
<p>carried upon them; thus lightening to less than eight hundredweight each</p>
<p>the loads of two of the heavy carts which had narrow wheels and sunk most</p>
<p>in the ground. The old cover of the boat carriage was also laid aside,</p>
<p>and in its place some tarpaulins which had previously added to the loads</p>
<p>were laid across our remaining boat. A heavy jack used to raise</p>
<p>cartwheels was also left at this camp, and some iron bars that had been</p>
<p>taken from the boat-carriage when it was shortened. Thus lightened we</p>
<p>proceeded once more into the fields of mud, taking a northerly direction.</p>
<p>For several miles we encountered worse ground than we had ever crossed</p>
<p>before yet the carts came over it; but broad swamps still lay before us.</p>
<p>SWAMPS HARDER THAN THE GROUND AROUND THEM.</p>
<p>Despairing at length of being able to avoid them, I impatiently galloped</p>
<p>my horse into one and the carts followed, thanks to my impatience for</p>
<p>once, for I do not think that I should otherwise have discovered that a</p>
<p>swamp so uninviting could possibly have borne my horse, and still less</p>
<p>the carts. After this I ventured to pursue a less circuitous route.</p>
<p>AGAIN REACH THE GOOD COUNTRY.</p>
<p>About that time a yellow flower in the grass caught my eye and,</p>
<p>remembering that we had seen none of these golden flowers since we left</p>
<p>the beautiful valley of the Wannon, I ventured to hope that we were at</p>
<p>length approaching the good country at the head of that stream. Such was</p>
<p>my anxious wish when I perceived through the trees a glimpse of an open</p>
<p>grassy country, and immediately entered a fine clear valley with a lively</p>
<p>little stream flowing westward through it and which I named the Grange.</p>
<p>This was indeed one of the heads of the Wannon and we had at length</p>
<p>reached the good country. The contrast between it and that from which we</p>
<p>had emerged was obvious to all; even to the natives who for the first</p>
<p>time painted themselves in the evening and danced a spirited corrobory on</p>
<p>the occasion. This day Piper had seen two of the native inhabitants and</p>
<p>had endeavoured to persuade them to come to me, but all to no purpose</p>
<p>until at length, enraged at the unreasonable timidity of one of them, he</p>
<p>threw his tomahawk at him and nearly hit him as he edged off; an act of</p>
<p>which, as I told him in the strongest terms, I very much disapproved.</p>
<p>September 12.</p>
<p>The course of the little stream being to the northward, I proceeded along</p>
<p>its right bank this morning until it turned to the north-west; but we</p>
<p>soon after came to another to which the former seemed to be but a</p>
<p>tributary. Its course was almost due west, and the valley in which it</p>
<p>flowed was deep and boldly escarped. The stream thundered along with</p>
<p>considerable rapidity over a rocky bottom consisting of the same sort of</p>
<p>trap or ancient lava. I had little doubt that this was the principal head</p>
<p>of the Wannon, a river crossed by us on the 11th of August. Meeting next</p>
<p>an important branch falling into it from the south-east and being obliged</p>
<p>to cross this, we effected the passage even with the carts, although the</p>
<p>horses were nearly swimming. We proceeded next along a continuous ridge</p>
<p>of fine firm ground covered with excellent grass, and soon after we saw</p>
<p>before us a smaller stream flowing under a broad grassy vale and, having</p>
<p>crossed it also without difficulty, we encamped in one of the valleys</p>
<p>beyond, where this tributary appeared to originate. A finer country could</p>
<p>scarcely be imagined: enormous trees of the mimosa or wattle of which the</p>
<p>bark is so valuable grew almost everywhere; and several new varieties of</p>
<p>Caladenia were found today. The blue, yellow, pink, and brown-coloured</p>
<p>were all observed on these flowery plains.</p>
<p>MOUNTS BAINBRIGGE AND PIERREPOINT.</p>
<p>The sublime peaks of the Grampians began to appear above the trees to the</p>
<p>northward, and two lower hills of trap-rock arose, one to the south-west</p>
<p>the other north-west of our camp. That to the northward I named Mount</p>
<p>Bainbrigge, the other on the south Mount Pierrepoint.</p>
<p>September 13.</p>
<p>We broke up our camp early this morning and on reaching the highest</p>
<p>ground we discovered a large lake on our left: it was nearly circular,</p>
<p>about half a mile in circumference and surrounded by high firm banks from</p>
<p>which there was no visible outlet; I named it Lake Nivelle. At a few</p>
<p>miles beyond this lake the cheering sight of an open country extending to</p>
<p>the horizon first appeared through the trees; and we soon entered on</p>
<p>these fine downs where the gently undulating surface was firm under our</p>
<p>horses&#8217; feet and thickly clothed with excellent grass.</p>
<p>MOUNT STURGEON.</p>
<p>The cartwheels trundled merrily along, so that twelve miles were</p>
<p>accomplished soon after midday, and we encamped near the extreme southern</p>
<p>point of the Grampians, which I named Mount Sturgeon. The weather was</p>
<p>very wet but this troubled us the less as we had not known a day without</p>
<p>rain for several months.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>18 &#8211; 29 August</title>
		<link>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/tm-journal-18-29-aug/</link>
		<comments>http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/2010/09/tm-journal-18-29-aug/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 15 Sep 2010 00:26:32 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Thomas M.</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Mitchell Expedition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Thomas Mitchell]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.majormitchellexpedition.com/?p=439</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[THE BOATS LAUNCHED ON THE GLENELG.
August 18.
An uncommonly fine morning succeeded a clear frosty night. The boats were
hoisted out to be launched once on the bosom of the newly discovered
Glenelg; and they were loaded with what the party going with them might
require for ten days. I left with Mr. Stapylton instructions that the men
under his [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>THE BOATS LAUNCHED ON THE GLENELG.</p>
<p>August 18.</p>
<p>An uncommonly fine morning succeeded a clear frosty night. The boats were<br />
hoisted out to be launched once on the bosom of the newly discovered<br />
Glenelg; and they were loaded with what the party going with them might<br />
require for ten days. I left with Mr. Stapylton instructions that the men<br />
under his charge should move up to and occupy the round point of the<br />
hill, a position which I named Fort O&#8217;Hare in memory of a truly brave<br />
soldier, my commanding officer who fell at Badajoz in leading the forlorn<br />
hope of the Light Division to the storm.</p>
<p>MR. STAPYLTON LEFT WITH A DEPOT AT FORT O&#8217;HARE.<br />
At twelve o&#8217;clock I embarked on the river with sixteen men in two boats,<br />
leaving eight with Mr. Stapylton in the depot.</p>
<p>CHARACTER OF THE RIVER.<br />
We met with many dead trees for the first mile or two, but none of these<br />
either prevented or delayed our passage; and the river then widened into<br />
fine reaches wholly clear of timber, so that the passage further down was<br />
quite uninterrupted. The scenery on the banks was pleasing and various:<br />
at some points picturesque limestone cliffs overhung the river, and<br />
cascades flowed out of caverns hung with stalactites; at others the<br />
shores were festooned with green dripping shrubs and creepers, or<br />
terminated in a smooth grassy bank sloping to the water&#8217;s edge. But none<br />
of the banks consisted of water-worn earth; they were in general low and<br />
grassy, bounding the alluvial flats that lay between the higher points of<br />
land. Within the first three or four miles from Fort O&#8217;Hare two<br />
tributaries joined the main stream from the right or westward, and one<br />
from the left or eastward: one of the former ending in a noisy cascade at<br />
the junction. The river soon opened to a uniform width of sixty yards,<br />
its waters being everywhere smooth and unruffled and the current scarcely<br />
perceptible.</p>
<p>Ornithorynchus paradoxus.</p>
<p>Ducks were always to be seen in the reaches before us, and very</p>
<p>frequently the Ornithorynchus paradoxus, an animal which had not, I</p>
<p>believe, been hitherto seen so near the sea. After rowing about sixteen</p>
<p>miles we landed on the left bank near a cascade falling from under a</p>
<p>limestone cliff and there we encamped for the night. The sun was setting</p>
<p>in a cloudless sky while I eagerly ascended the highest cliffs in hopes</p>
<p>of obtaining a sight of the coast, but nothing was visible beyond a</p>
<p>gently undulating woody country, some swamps alone appearing in it to the</p>
<p>westward. The land about the cliffs of limestone was tolerably good and</p>
<p>grassy, but towards the end of this day&#8217;s pull forests of the stringybark</p>
<p>sort of eucalyptus, having in them trees of large dimensions, closed on</p>
<p>the river. We endeavoured but in vain to catch fish, and whether the</p>
<p>waters contained the cod-perch (Gristes peelii) or not remained a</p>
<p>question. Our position and our prospects were now extremely interesting</p>
<p>and throughout the night I was impatient for the light of the next day.</p>
<p>COURSE OF THE RIVER.</p>
<p>August 19.</p>
<p>I arose at three in order to determine the latitude more exactly by the</p>
<p>altitude of various stars then approaching the meridian. These were Aries</p>
<p>and Menkar; while the two feet of the Centaur, both fine circumpolar</p>
<p>stars, were so steadily reflected in the placid stream that I obtained by</p>
<p>that means the altitude of both BELOW THE POLE. It was most essential to</p>
<p>the accuracy of my survey of the river that I should determine the</p>
<p>latitude as frequently and exactly as possible. The sun afterwards rose</p>
<p>in a cloudless sky and I ascertained the breadth of the river by means of</p>
<p>a micrometer telescope to be exactly 70 yards. We continued our</p>
<p>interesting voyage and found the river of very uniform width and that its</p>
<p>depth increased.</p>
<p>The current was slower but still perceptible although we found the water</p>
<p>had ebbed six inches during the night an indication that it was already</p>
<p>influenced by the tide although it tasted perfectly fresh. At a place</p>
<p>where I observed the sun&#8217;s meridian altitude I found the breadth on</p>
<p>measurement to be 71 yards and the depth on sounding, 4 1/2, 3 1/2 and 3</p>
<p>fathoms. The direction of the course had there however changed. To the</p>
<p>camp of last night it had been remarkably straight towards</p>
<p>south-south-east although full of turnings being what may be termed</p>
<p>straight serpentine,* and I had accordingly expected to find the estuary</p>
<p>at Portland Bay in which case it was likely to be sheltered sufficiently</p>
<p>by Cape Nelson to form a harbour. Now however the general course was</p>
<p>nearly west and it preserved the same general direction without much</p>
<p>winding during the progress we made throughout the day. I had therefore</p>
<p>every reason to suppose that it would thus terminate in the wide bay</p>
<p>between Cape Northumberland and Cape Bridgewater. The scenery on the long</p>
<p>reaches was in many places very fine from the picturesque character of</p>
<p>the limestone-rock and the tints and outline of the trees, shrubs, and</p>
<p>creepers upon the banks. In some places stalactitic grottoes covered with</p>
<p>red and yellow creepers overhung or enclosed cascades; at other points</p>
<p>casuarinae and banksia were festooned with creeping vines whose hues of</p>
<p>warm green or brown were relieved by the grey cliffs of more remote</p>
<p>reaches as they successively opened before us.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. See Colonel Jackson&#8217;s paper also referred to above.)</p>
<p>BLACK SWANS.</p>
<p>Black swans being numerous, we shot several; and found some eggs which we</p>
<p>thought a luxury among the bulrushes at the water&#8217;s edge. But we had</p>
<p>left, as it seemed, all the good grassy land behind us; for the</p>
<p>stringybark and a species of Xanthorrhoea (grass-tree) grew to the</p>
<p>water&#8217;s edge both where the soil looked black and rich and where it</p>
<p>possessed that red colour which distinguishes the best soil in the</p>
<p>vicinity of limestone rock. One or two small tributaries joined the river</p>
<p>the principal one coming from the left bank at that point or angle where</p>
<p>the great change takes place in its course. When the sun was near setting</p>
<p>we put ashore on this bank and from a tree on the highest part of the</p>
<p>country behind it we now once again saw Mount Gambier bearing 57 degrees</p>
<p>West of North.</p>
<p>WATER BRACKISH.</p>
<p>Here the water was slightly brackish but still very good for use; the</p>
<p>saltness being most perceptible when the water was used for tea. The</p>
<p>river had increased considerably both in width and depth; for here the</p>
<p>measured breadth was 101 yards and the mean depth five fathoms. (See</p>
<p>section on general Map.) It was upon the whole considering the permanent</p>
<p>fulness of its stream the character of its banks and uniformity of width</p>
<p>and depth the finest body of fresh water I had seen in Australia; and our</p>
<p>hopes were that day sanguine that we should find an outlet to the sea of</p>
<p>proportionate magnitude.</p>
<p>August 20.</p>
<p>This morning I found there was a rise of six inches in the river,</p>
<p>evidently the effect of tide as the water was brackish although still fit</p>
<p>for use. The reach on which we embarked afforded us a view for a mile</p>
<p>further down the river; the vista being truly picturesque and with the</p>
<p>interest attached to the scene it looked indeed quite enchanting. We</p>
<p>pulled on through the silent waters, awakening the slumbering echoes with</p>
<p>many a shot at the numerous swans or ducks. At length another change took</p>
<p>place in the general course of the river which from west turned to</p>
<p>east-south-east. The height of the banks appeared to diminish rapidly and</p>
<p>a very numerous flock of the small sea-swallow or tern indicated our</p>
<p>vicinity to the sea. The slow-flying pelican also with its huge bill</p>
<p>pursued, regardless of strangers its straight-forward course over the</p>
<p>waters.</p>
<p>ISLE OF BAGS.</p>
<p>A small bushy island next came in sight having on it some rocks</p>
<p>resembling what we should have thought a great treasure then, a pile of</p>
<p>flour-bags and we named it accordingly the Isle of Bags.</p>
<p>ARRIVAL AT THE SEACOAST.</p>
<p>Soon after passing the island a few low, sandy-looking hills appeared</p>
<p>before us; and we found ourselves between two basins where in the water</p>
<p>was very shallow although we had sounded just previously to entering one</p>
<p>of them in four fathoms. The widest lay directly before us but having no</p>
<p>outlet we steered into the other on the right and on rounding a low rocky</p>
<p>point we saw the green rolling breakers of the sea through an opening</p>
<p>which proved to be the mouth of the river. It consisted of two low rocky</p>
<p>points and as soon as we had pulled outside of them we landed on the</p>
<p>eastern one. In the two basins we had seen there was scarcely sufficient</p>
<p>water to float the boats and thus our hopes of finding a port at the</p>
<p>mouth of this fine river were at once at an end. The sea broke on a sandy</p>
<p>beach outside and on ascending one of the sandhills near it I perceived</p>
<p>Cape Northumberland; the rocks outside called the Carpenters bearing 7</p>
<p>degrees 20 minutes South of West (variation 3 degrees 30 minutes) and</p>
<p>being distant, as I judged, about fifteen miles. Mount Gambier bore 23</p>
<p>degrees 40 minutes North of West and a height which seemed near the</p>
<p>extreme point of the coast on the eastward and which I therefore took for</p>
<p>Cape Bridge water bore 52 degrees East of South.</p>
<p>DISCOVERY BAY.</p>
<p>These points seemed distant from each other about forty miles; the line</p>
<p>of coast between forming one grand curve or bay which received this river</p>
<p>at the deepest part and which I now named Discovery Bay.</p>
<p>MOUTH OF THE GLENELG.</p>
<p>There was no reef of rocks upon the bar; a circumstance to be regretted</p>
<p>in this case for it was obvious that the entrance to this fine river and</p>
<p>the two basins was choked merely by the sand thrown up by the sea. The</p>
<p>river was four fathoms deep, the water being nearly fresh enough for use</p>
<p>within sight of the shore. Unfortunately perhaps for navigation there is</p>
<p>but little tide on that coast; the greatest rise in the lower part of the</p>
<p>river (judging by the floating weeds) did not exceed a foot. I was too</p>
<p>intent on the completion of my survey to indulge much in contemplating</p>
<p>the welcome sight of old ocean; but when a plank was picked up by the men</p>
<p>on that desolate shore and we found the initials IWB and the year 1832</p>
<p>carved on wood which had probably grown in old England the sea really</p>
<p>seemed like home to us. Although it was low water a boat might easily</p>
<p>have been got out and it is probable that in certain states of the tide</p>
<p>and sand small craft might get in; but I nevertheless consider the mouth</p>
<p>of this river quite unavailable as a harbour.</p>
<p>WATERHOLES DUG IN THE BEACH.</p>
<p>Near the beach were holes dug apparently by the natives in which we found</p>
<p>the water perfectly sweet. The hills sheltering the most eastern of the</p>
<p>two basins were well wooded as were also those behind. The line of</p>
<p>sandhills on the beach seemed to rise into forest hills at about five</p>
<p>miles further eastward and all those in the west to within a short</p>
<p>distance of the coast were equally woody. The day was squally with rain;</p>
<p>nevertheless during an interval of sunshine I obtained the sun&#8217;s meridian</p>
<p>altitude making the latitude 38 degrees 2 minutes 58 seconds South. I</p>
<p>also completed by two P.M. my survey of the mouth of the river and</p>
<p>adjacent country; and we then again embarked to return a few miles up the</p>
<p>river and encamp where wood and water were at hand. On reentering the</p>
<p>river from the sea I presented the men with a bottle of whisky with which</p>
<p>it was formally named the Glenelg after the present Secretary of State</p>
<p>for the Colonies according to my previous intention.</p>
<p>REMARKABLE HOLLOW.</p>
<p>August 21.</p>
<p>We had encamped in a rather remarkable hollow on the right bank at the</p>
<p>extreme western bend of the river. There was no modern indication that</p>
<p>water either lodged in or ran through that ravine although the channel</p>
<p>resembled in width the bed of some considerable tributary; the rock</p>
<p>presenting a section of cliffs on each side and the bottom being broad</p>
<p>but consisting of black earth only in which grew trees of eucalyptus. I</p>
<p>found on following it some way up that it led to a low tract of country</p>
<p>which I regretted much I could not then examine further. I found shells</p>
<p>embedded in limestone varying considerably in its hardness being</p>
<p>sometimes very friable and the surface in some places presenting</p>
<p>innumerable fragments of corallines, with pectens, spatangi, echini,</p>
<p>ostrea and foraminifera.</p>
<p>LIMESTONE CAVERN.</p>
<p>In the opposite bank of the river I found several thin strata of compact</p>
<p>chert containing probably fragments of corallines, not only on the</p>
<p>surface but embedded in the limestone. In pulling up the river this</p>
<p>morning we observed a cavern or opening in the side of the limestone rock</p>
<p>and having ascended to it by means of a rope we entered with lights. It</p>
<p>proved to be only a large fissure and after penetrating about 150 yards</p>
<p>underground we met with red earth, apparently fallen from the surface. We</p>
<p>found at the mouth of the fissure some fine specimens of shells, coral,</p>
<p>and other marine productions, embedded in several thin strata of a</p>
<p>coarser structure under one of very compact limestone upwards of 20 feet</p>
<p>thick.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. In the fragments brought home Mr. George Sowerby found a</p>
<p>nucula, very much resembling some species of South America although not</p>
<p>like any from Australia. Portions of lucinae, echinus, spatangi, and</p>
<p>turritella or melania, were comprised in specimens from a softer stratum</p>
<p>which was the lowest.)</p>
<p>ONE FISH CAUGHT IN THE GLENELG.</p>
<p>While the people in the boat awaited us there a fish was taken by</p>
<p>Muirhead who had also caught the first fish in the river Darling. That of</p>
<p>the Glenelg was a saltwater fish known at Sydney by the name of Snapper.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. This was the only fish caught in the Glenelg notwithstanding</p>
<p>the men threw in their lines whenever we encamped on its banks. The</p>
<p>weather was too cold for it was evident the river did contain fish from</p>
<p>the trellised work which the natives had set across it in the upper</p>
<p>parts.)</p>
<p>STORMY WEATHER.</p>
<p>The weather was more moderate today although still showery; and the</p>
<p>scenery as we proceeded upwards was very picturesque and full of variety.</p>
<p>At sunset we encamped about a mile and a half short of our camp of the</p>
<p>18th and just as the trees were groaning under a heavy squall which</p>
<p>obliged us to land on the first spot where sufficient room was left in</p>
<p>the thick woods for our tents. This spot happened to be on a steep bit of</p>
<p>bank; and in the evening I was called in haste to a new danger. The wind</p>
<p>had suddenly changed and blew with great fury filling my tent with sparks</p>
<p>from a large fire which burnt before it. I had placed in it according to</p>
<p>usual custom our stock of ammunition in a keg; and notwithstanding these</p>
<p>precautions its preservation now between the two elements of fire and</p>
<p>water was rather doubtful. We contrived however to avert the danger and</p>
<p>were no more disturbed during the night except by the storm.</p>
<p>RETURN TO THE DEPOT.</p>
<p>August 22.</p>
<p>The squally weather continued until noon when sunbeams again adorned the</p>
<p>river-scenery. We met with no impediment in the current until within</p>
<p>about six miles of the depot camp when dead trees in the channel began</p>
<p>again to appear; but we passed them all without hindrance and reached</p>
<p>Fort O&#8217;Hare at two o&#8217;clock where we found all well. Mr. Stapylton had set</p>
<p>Vulcan to repair the broken chains etc., a ford had been cleared across</p>
<p>the stream from the north-east which I named the Crawford; and the cattle</p>
<p>being refreshed we were once more in trim to continue the land journey.</p>
<p>The height of the water in the river had undergone no change during our</p>
<p>absence and was probably about its usual level there although I observed</p>
<p>abundant marks of flood in the branches of trees where dry floated matter</p>
<p>remained at the height of fifteen feet above the water as it stood then.</p>
<p>The rock about this position consisted of limestone apparently similar to</p>
<p>that seen on its banks higher up. (See August 15.) It possessed a</p>
<p>stalactitic aspect by the infiltration of calcareous matter and in</p>
<p>crevices below I found a reddish stalagmite containing grains of sand.</p>
<p>Large petrified oyster shells lay loosely about the bank above these</p>
<p>cliffs. No natives had approached the depot during our absence and we had</p>
<p>indeed reason to believe that the adjacent country contained but few</p>
<p>inhabitants.</p>
<p>DIFFERENCE IN LONGITUDE.</p>
<p>During the afternoon I laid down my survey of the estuary of the Glenelg</p>
<p>and completed by 10 P.M., not only my plan of it but that of the river</p>
<p>also. I found a considerable difference between the result of my survey</p>
<p>and the Admiralty charts not only in the longitude but also in the</p>
<p>relative position of the two capes with respect to Mount Gambier a</p>
<p>solitary hill easily recognised.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. At that time I supposed the difference had arisen from some</p>
<p>error or omission in my map and took much pains to discover it; but not</p>
<p>having succeeded my work having also closed to a mile and three-quarters</p>
<p>on my return to the country connected by trigonometrical survey with</p>
<p>Sydney I have been obliged to represent these parts of the coast</p>
<p>according to this land survey.)</p>
<p>LEAVE THE GLENELG AND TRAVEL EASTWARD.</p>
<p>August 23.</p>
<p>Having at length disposed of the course of the Glenelg, my next object</p>
<p>was to cross and examine the high ground which enclosed its basin on the</p>
<p>east supplying those tributaries which the river received from its left</p>
<p>bank, and evidently extending from the Grampians to Cape Bridgewater. I</p>
<p>had named this the Rifle range in crossing that branch of it extending</p>
<p>north-westward when I ascertained its characteristics to be lofty woods</p>
<p>and swamps; but its ramifications in other directions and how it was</p>
<p>connected backwards with the mountains still remained to be discovered;</p>
<p>and from what I did know of this range I apprehended considerable</p>
<p>difficulty in getting over it with our heavy carriages at such a season.</p>
<p>That we might if possible escape the bogs, I devoted the day to an</p>
<p>extensive reconnaissance of the country before us; my guide in this case</p>
<p>being the river Crawford which, flowing in deep ravines, was likely to</p>
<p>afford (so long as its general course continued to be nearly parallel to</p>
<p>our route) one means at least of avoiding those soft swampy flats which</p>
<p>could not possibly impede us so long as the side of such a ravine as that</p>
<p>of the river was within reach. I had the good fortune to find that the</p>
<p>range in general was firm under the hoof, and its direction precisely</p>
<p>such as I wished. Extensive swamps occasionally appeared on my right; but</p>
<p>I had on the left the deep ravines of the Crawford, and I travelled</p>
<p>across the highest slopes of the ground. Having thus found good sound</p>
<p>turf for twelve miles in the direction in which I wished to take the</p>
<p>carriages, I returned on descending from a trap range where the rock</p>
<p>consisted of granular felspar and hornblende with crystals of glassy</p>
<p>felspar. On this hill the soil was exceedingly rich and the grass green</p>
<p>and luxuriant. I obtained thence a most useful bearing on Mount Gambier,</p>
<p>and saw also some heights to the eastward beyond the Rifle range. The</p>
<p>timber grew to an enormous size on the ranges which I traversed this day;</p>
<p>it consisted chiefly of that species of eucalyptus known as stringybark.</p>
<p>Some of the trees we measured were 13 feet and one as much as 14 1/2 feet</p>
<p>in circumference, and 80 feet was no uncommon height. The fallen timber</p>
<p>was of such magnitude as to present a new impediment to our progress for</p>
<p>we had not previously met with such an obstruction on any journey.</p>
<p>CROSS THE CRAWFORD.</p>
<p>August 24.</p>
<p>The carriages were taken across the Crawford without much delay</p>
<p>considering its depth and the softness of the banks. The carts sank at</p>
<p>least five feet in the water yet nothing was damaged for we had taken</p>
<p>care to pack the flour and other perishable articles on the tops of the</p>
<p>loads. We succeeded in crossing the rivulets at the heads of several</p>
<p>ravines by filling up their channels with logs; and thus, after crossing</p>
<p>the last of these, and ascending the steep bank beyond it, we encamped</p>
<p>after a journey of seven miles. The weather had been stormy on both days</p>
<p>since I crossed the Crawford, a circumstance very much against our</p>
<p>progress. Near this camp we found a new Correa, resembling C. virens but</p>
<p>having distinctly cordate toothed leaves with less down on their</p>
<p>underside and a much shorter calyx.*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. C. cordifolia, Lindley manuscripts; stellato-tomentosa,</p>
<p>foliis subsessilibus cordatis ovatis denticulatis obtusis planis supra</p>
<p>glabris, corollis tubulosis cernuis, calyce truncato brevissimo.)</p>
<p>BOGGY CHARACTER OF ITS SOURCES.</p>
<p>August 25.</p>
<p>In our progress eastward we were still governed by the line of the</p>
<p>Crawford; and the tortuous direction of the ravines connected with it</p>
<p>required constant attention, while the very variable character of the</p>
<p>swamps at the head of them was still more perplexing. We succeeded in</p>
<p>finding a passage between all this day also and, on again crossing a</p>
<p>small mountain torrent by filling up the chasm with dead timber, we</p>
<p>encamped after another journey of seven miles. On our left to the</p>
<p>northward lay a deep valley in which we found a broad sheet of water</p>
<p>covered with ducks, the banks being soft and overgrown with reeds. A</p>
<p>considerable stream flowed westward from this lake through a narrow part</p>
<p>of the valley, so that I concluded we were still on the principal branch</p>
<p>of the Crawford. Trees of large dimensions were abundant and the fallen</p>
<p>timber impeded our progress even more than any unusual softness of the</p>
<p>earth.</p>
<p>August 26.</p>
<p>After proceeding several miles without lett or hindrance, having</p>
<p>successfully crossed some swampy rivulets all flowing to the left amidst</p>
<p>thick scrubs, we at length arrived at a watercourse in which my horse</p>
<p>went down, and which filled a very wide swampy bed enclosed by a thick</p>
<p>growth of young mimosa trees, through which it was necessary to cut a</p>
<p>passage wide enough for the carts. The scrub having been thus cleared to</p>
<p>the extent of about 100 yards with much labour, I found only then</p>
<p>unfortunately that although the roots grew very closely, and that water</p>
<p>flowed over the surface, the earth was withal so soft that I could at</p>
<p>every point with ease push a stick five feet down without reaching any</p>
<p>firm bottom. The loose cattle were driven in, an experiment which until</p>
<p>then we had tried with success in doubtful places, but they with</p>
<p>difficulty got across this, for one of them sank and could not be</p>
<p>extricated without considerable delay. While the men were busily employed</p>
<p>there I rode to the head of the swamp which extended about a mile to the</p>
<p>southward. On this swampy plain I at length succeeded in finding, with</p>
<p>Mr. Stapylton&#8217;s assistance, a line of route likely to bear the carts and</p>
<p>we passed safely in that direction, not one carriage having gone down.</p>
<p>While on this swampy surface we distinctly heard the breakers of the sea</p>
<p>apparently at no great distance to the south-west, and I was convinced</p>
<p>that the head of this swamp was about the highest ground immediately</p>
<p>adjacent to Discovery Bay. On travelling a mile and a half further we</p>
<p>reached a small rivulet, the first we had crossed flowing to the south.</p>
<p>Beyond it the country appeared open and good, consisting of what is</p>
<p>termed forest land with casuarinae and banksia growing upon it.</p>
<p>RECROSS THE RIFLE RANGE.</p>
<p>We had at length reached the highest parts of the range and were about to</p>
<p>descend into the country beyond it. We continued to travel a considerable</p>
<p>distance further than the rivulet flowing to the south. Crossing others</p>
<p>running northward or to the left, and leaving also on the same side a</p>
<p>swamp, we finally came to a higher range clothed with trees of gigantic</p>
<p>size, attesting the strength and depth of the soil, and here enormous old</p>
<p>trunks obstructed our passage, covering the surface so as to form an</p>
<p>impediment almost as great to us as the swampy ground had been; but this</p>
<p>large timber so near the coast was an important feature in that country.</p>
<p>Piper, having climbed to the top of one of these trees, perceived some</p>
<p>fine green hills to the south-east, saying they were very near us and</p>
<p>that the sea was visible beyond them. It was late in the afternoon when I</p>
<p>reluctantly changed my intended route, which had been until then</p>
<p>eastward, to proceed in the direction recommended by Piper, or to the</p>
<p>south-east and so to follow down a valley, instead of my proposed route</p>
<p>which had been along a favourable range.</p>
<p>HEAVY TIMBER THE CHIEF IMPEDIMENT.</p>
<p>I had still less reason to be satisfied with the change when, after</p>
<p>pushing my horse through thick scrubs and bogs until twilight and looking</p>
<p>in vain for a passage for the carts, I encountered at length bushes so</p>
<p>thickly set and bogs so soft that any further progress in that direction</p>
<p>was out of the question; and thus on the evening when I hoped to have</p>
<p>entered a better sort of country after so successful a passage of the</p>
<p>range we encamped where but little grass could be found for the cattle,</p>
<p>our tents being not only under lofty trees but amongst thick bushes and</p>
<p>bogs during very rainy weather.</p>
<p>TRAVELLING ALSO DIFFICULT FROM THE SOFTNESS OF THE GROUND.</p>
<p>August 27.</p>
<p>I was so anxious to get into open ground again that, as soon as daylight</p>
<p>permitted, I carefully examined the environs of our camp, and I found</p>
<p>that we occupied a broad flat where the drainage from the hills met and</p>
<p>spread among bushes, so that at one time I almost despaired of</p>
<p>extricating the party otherwise than by returning to the hill at which I</p>
<p>had first altered my route. The track we made had been however so much</p>
<p>cut up by our wheels that I preferred the chance of finding a passage</p>
<p>northward which, of course, was also less out of our way. We reached an</p>
<p>extremity of the hill (the nearest to us on that side) with much less</p>
<p>difficulty than I had reason to apprehend and, keeping along that</p>
<p>feature, we soon regained a range which led us east-north-east. By</p>
<p>proceeding in this direction however we could not avoid the passage of a</p>
<p>valley where the water was not confined to any channel, but spread and</p>
<p>lodged on a wide tract of very soft ground, also covered with mimosa</p>
<p>bushes and a thick growth of young saplings of eucalyptus. The light</p>
<p>carts and the first heavy cart got over this soft ground or bog, but the</p>
<p>others and the boat carriage sank up to the axles so that we were obliged</p>
<p>to halt after having proceeded about five miles only. This was near a</p>
<p>fine forest-hill consisting of trap-rock in a state of decomposition, but</p>
<p>apparently similar to that of the trap-rock I had ascended on the 23rd of</p>
<p>August; and from a tree there Burnett thought he saw the sea to the</p>
<p>north-east, and even to the northward of a remarkable conical hill. The</p>
<p>discovery of the sea in that direction was so different from the</p>
<p>situation of the shore as laid down on the maps that I began to hope an</p>
<p>inlet might exist there as yet undiscovered, the &#8220;Cadong,&#8221; perhaps, of</p>
<p>the native woman, &#8220;where white men had never been.&#8221;*</p>
<p>(*Footnote. See above.)</p>
<p>EXCURSION SOUTHWARD TO PORTLAND BAY.</p>
<p>I had now proceeded far enough to the eastward to be able to examine the</p>
<p>coast about Portland Bay and extend my survey to the capes in its</p>
<p>neighbourhood, the better to ascertain their longitude. I therefore</p>
<p>determined to make an excursion in that direction and thus afford time</p>
<p>not only for the extrication of the heavy carts still remaining in the</p>
<p>mud but also for the repose of the cattle after their labours.</p>
<p>August 28.</p>
<p>By the survey proposed I hoped to extend my map of the country</p>
<p>sufficiently in that direction to be at liberty, on my return to the</p>
<p>party, to pursue a route directly homeward; not doubting that at a short</p>
<p>distance to the northward of our camp we should again enter the beautiful</p>
<p>open country which, when seen from the mouth of the Wannon, seemed to</p>
<p>extend as far as could be seen to the eastward. In our ride to the south</p>
<p>we reached, at four miles from the boggy ground, a fine green hill</p>
<p>consisting of trap-rock and connected with a ridge of the same</p>
<p>description which extended about two miles further to the southward.</p>
<p>MOUNT ECKERSLEY.</p>
<p>There we found it to terminate abruptly in a lofty brow, quite clear of</p>
<p>timber and commanding an extensive view to the east and south over a much</p>
<p>lower country. This hill had a very remarkable feature&#8211;a deep chasm</p>
<p>separating it from the ridge behind, the sides being so steep as to</p>
<p>present a section of the trap-rock which consisted principally of compact</p>
<p>felspar. The hill which I named Mount Eckersley was covered, as well as</p>
<p>the ridge to which it belonged, with a luxuriant crop of anthisterium, or</p>
<p>kangaroo grass. Unfortunately the weather was squally but, by awaiting</p>
<p>the intervals between clouds on the horizon, I obtained angles at length</p>
<p>on nearly all the distant hills, the waters of Portland Bay just</p>
<p>appearing in the south over an intervening woody ridge. From this hill I</p>
<p>recognised a very conspicuous flat-topped hill to the northward which had</p>
<p>been previously included in a series of angles observed on the 12th</p>
<p>instant from the valley of the Wannon and which I now named Mount Napier.</p>
<p>Portland Bay was distant about fifteen miles but the intervening country</p>
<p>seemed so low, and swamps entirely clear of timber appeared in so many</p>
<p>places, that I could scarcely hope to get through it: knowing it to</p>
<p>contain all the water from those boggy valleys where our progress had</p>
<p>been already so much impeded. Smoke arose from various parts of the lower</p>
<p>country&#8211;a proof that at least some dry land was there. We were provided</p>
<p>with horses only, and therefore desperately determined to flounder</p>
<p>through or even to swim if necessary, we thrust them down the hill. On</p>
<p>its side we met an emu which stood and stared, apparently fearless as if</p>
<p>the strange quadrupeds had withdrawn its keen eye from the more familiar</p>
<p>enemies who bestrode them. In the lower country we saw also a kangaroo,</p>
<p>an animal that seldom frequents marshy lands. I was agreeably surprised</p>
<p>to find also, on descending, that the rich grass extended among the trees</p>
<p>across the lower country; and I was still more pleased on coming to a</p>
<p>fine running stream at about three miles from the hill and after crossing</p>
<p>a tract of land of the richest description. Reeds grew thickly amongst</p>
<p>the long grass, and the ground appeared to be of a different character</p>
<p>from any that I had previously seen. This seemed to be just such land as</p>
<p>would produce wheat during the driest seasons and never become sour even</p>
<p>in the wettest, such as this season undoubtedly was.</p>
<p>CROSS THE FITZROY.</p>
<p>The timber was thin and light and, with a fine deep stream flowing</p>
<p>through it, the tract which at first sight from Mount Eckersley I had</p>
<p>considered so sterile and wet proved to be one likely at no distant day</p>
<p>to smile under luxuriant crops of grain. We found the river (which I</p>
<p>named the Fitzroy) fordable, although deep at the place where we first</p>
<p>came upon it. Shady trees of the mimosa kind grew along the banks and the</p>
<p>earth was now good and firm on both sides. We heard the natives as we</p>
<p>approached this stream and cooeyed to them; but our calls had only the</p>
<p>effect, as appeared from the retiring sound of their voices, of making</p>
<p>them run faster away. Continuing our ride southward we entered at two</p>
<p>miles beyond the Fitzroy a forest of the stringybark eucalyptus; and</p>
<p>although the anthisterium still grew in hollows I saw swampy open flats</p>
<p>before us which I endeavoured to avoid, sometimes by passing between them</p>
<p>and finally by turning to a woody range on the left. I ascended this</p>
<p>range as night came on, in hopes of finding grass for our horses; but</p>
<p>there the mimosa and xanthorrhoea alone prevailed&#8211;the latter being a</p>
<p>sure indication of sterility and scanty vegetation. We found naked ground</p>
<p>higher up consisting of deep lagoons and swamps amongst which I was</p>
<p>satisfied with my success in passing through in such a direction as</p>
<p>enabled me to regain, in a dark and stormy night, the shelter of the</p>
<p>woods on the side of the range. But I sought in vain for the grass, so</p>
<p>abundant elsewhere on this day&#8217;s ride, and we were at length under the</p>
<p>necessity of halting for the night where but little food could be found</p>
<p>for our horses, and under lofty trees that creaked and groaned to the</p>
<p>blast.</p>
<p>August 29.</p>
<p>The groaning trees had afforded us shelter without letting fall even a</p>
<p>single branch upon our heads,* but the morning was squally and</p>
<p>unfavourable for the objects of the excursion, and we had still to ride</p>
<p>some way before I could commence operations. Proceeding along the skirts</p>
<p>of the woody ridge on the left in order to avoid swamps, we at length saw</p>
<p>through the trees the blue waters of the sea and heard the roar of the</p>
<p>waves.</p>
<p>(*Footnote. The Australian woods are in general very brittle, and no</p>
<p>experienced bushman likes to sleep under trees, especially during high</p>
<p>winds.)</p>
<p>CROSS THE SURRY.</p>
<p>My intended way towards the deepest part of the bay and the hills beyond</p>
<p>it did not lead directly to the shore, and I continued to pursue a course</p>
<p>through the woods, having the shore on our left. We thus met a deep and</p>
<p>rapid little river exactly resembling the Fitzroy and coming also from</p>
<p>the westward. Tracing this a short distance upwards we came to a place</p>
<p>set with a sort of trelliswork of bushes by the natives for the purpose,</p>
<p>no doubt, of catching fish. Here we found the stream fordable though</p>
<p>deep; a brownish granular limestone appearing in the bank. We crossed and</p>
<p>then continuing through a thick wood we came out at length on the shore</p>
<p>of Portland Bay at about four miles beyond the little river.</p>
<p>LADY JULIA PERCY&#8217;S ISLE.</p>
<p>Straight before us lay Laurence&#8217;s Island, or rather, islands, there being</p>
<p>two small islets of rock in that situation; and, some way to the eastward</p>
<p>I perceived a much larger island which I concluded was one of Lady Julia</p>
<p>Percy&#8217;s Isles. At a quarter of a mile back from the beach broad</p>
<p>broom-topped casuarinae were the only trees we could see; these grew on</p>
<p>long ridges parallel to the beach, resembling those long breakers which,</p>
<p>aided by winds, had probably thrown such ridges up. They were abundantly</p>
<p>covered with excellent grass and, as it wanted about an hour of noon, I</p>
<p>halted that the cattle might feed while I took some angles and</p>
<p>endeavoured to obtain the sun&#8217;s altitude during the intervals between</p>
<p>heavy squalls, some of which were accompanied by hail and thunder.</p>
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