[14] Although the basin of this river extends so far towards the east, on its westerly bank, that is, towards the interior, a desert country stretches itself to an unknown distance, from which it does not appear to receive any increase of its waters at all deserving of notice. From two hills, seventy miles apart, extensive views were gained of this western desert, in which no smoke was seen, indicating the presence of natives, nor even any appearance of trees; the whole country being covered with a thick bush or scrub. For the four winter months spent by Mitchell near the Darling, neither rain nor yet dew fell, and the winds from the west and north-west, hot and parching, seemed to blow over a region in which no humidity remained.

[15] So in Major Mitchell's work, vol. i. p. 298; but the same author is quoted (more correctly it would seem from the map), by Montgomery Martin, as stating that "The Darling does not, in a course of three hundred miles, receive a single river."—See MARTIN'S New South Wales, p. 82.

[16] By dry season, or wet season, in Australia, we are not to understand, as in England, a dry or wet summer, but a series of dry or wet years. At the very bottom of some of the dried-up lakes were found sapling trees of ten years' growth, which had evidently been killed by the return of the waters to their long-forsaken bed.

But the river Darling itself, though it appears as a principal and independent stream during so long a course, is, we have little reason to doubt, no more than an important tributary to the chief of Australian rivers, the Murray. This last channel collects eventually all the waters flowing in a westward direction upon the eastern side of New Holland, between the latitudes of 28 deg. S. and 36 deg. S. The Darling, the Lachlan, and the Murrumbidgee, without mentioning streams of minor importance, all find their way southwards into the basin of the Murray, which is really a noble river, and does not seem subject to the same deplorable impoverishment, which most of the others suffer in very dry seasons. It was very earnestly anticipated that the mouth of a stream like this would probably form a good harbour, and thus afford a reasonable prospect of its hereafter becoming a busy navigable river, the means of furnishing inland communication to a considerable distance. This is, of all things, what New Holland appears most to want, but the want is not (as we shall shortly find) adequately supplied by the entrance to the Murray. A like failure occurs at the entrance of other Australian rivers, as in the instance of a much smaller but very beautiful stream, the Glenelg, which falls into a shallow basin within the sandy hills of the southern coast, the outlet being between two rocky heads, but choked up with the sands of the beach. We cannot, while we read of the scanty means of inland navigation, with which it has pleased Divine Providence to favour an island so enormous as New Holland, but feel thankful for the abundant advantages of this kind which our own native islands possess; but at the same time there is no reason to despair, even yet, of a navigable river being discovered in New Holland;[17] or, at the worst, the modern invention of rail-roads may supersede, in a great measure, the need of other communication.

[17] "I have myself no doubt that a large navigable river will yet be discovered, communicating with the interior of Australia."—M. MARTIN'S New South Wales, p. 99.

It would be impossible to compress into a moderate compass the various interesting particulars, which have been related of the rivers of New Holland and their neighbouring districts; but for this and much other pleasing information the reader may be referred, once for all, to the works of those travellers, whose names have been already so frequently mentioned. It is a curious fact that almost every stream of the least consequence in New Holland, appears to have its peculiar features, and a character and scenery of its own, which continue throughout its course, so that it could often be recognised by travellers coming upon it a second time, and at a different part of its career towards the sea. The beautifully-timbered plains, or the limestone cliffs of the noble Murray—the naked plains that bound on either side the strip of forest-trees of huge dimensions, by which the Lachlan is bordered,—the constantly full stream, the water-worn and lightly-timbered banks, the clear open space between the river and its distant margin of reeds, which mark the character of the Murrumbidgee,—the low grassy banks or limestone rocks, the cascades and caverns, the beautiful festoons of creeping plants, the curious form of the duck-billed platypus,[18] which are to be found on the Glenelg; the sandstone wastes of the Wollondilly, the grassy surface of the pretty Yarrayne,[19] with its trees on its brink instead of on its bank; the peculiar grandeur of the tremendous ravine, 1,500 feet in depth, down which the Shoalhaven flows; these and many more remarkable features of scenery in the Australian rivers, would afford abundance of materials for description either in poetry or prose. But we can now notice only one more peculiarity which most of these streams exhibit; they have, at a greater or less distance from their proper channels, secondary banks, beyond which floods rarely or never are known to extend. In no part of the habitable world is the force of contrast more to be observed than in Australia. A very able scientific writer[20] has ingeniously represented three persons travelling in certain directions across Great Britain, and finishing their journeys with three totally different impressions of the soil, country, and inhabitants; one having passed through a rocky and mining district, the second through a coal country peopled by manufacturers, and a third having crossed a chalky region devoted entirely to agriculture. An observation of this kind is even still more true of New Holland. And, consequently, when, instead of pursuing the course of certain similar lines of country, the traveller crosses these, the changes that take place in the appearance and productions of the various districts are exceedingly striking and follow sometimes in very rapid succession. A few examples of these contrasts, which arise in Australia from the nature of the seasons, as well as from that of the soil or climate, may here be noticed. How great a change did the exploring party under Major Mitchell experience, when, after tracing for forty-nine days the dry bed of the Lachlan, they suddenly saw a magnificent stream of clear and running water before them, and came upon the Murrumbidgee. Its banks, unlike those of the former channel, were clothed with excellent grass; a pleasing sight for the cattle—and it was no slight satisfaction to their possessors to see the jaded animals, after thirsting so long among the muddy holes of the Lachlan, drinking at this full and flowing stream. And yet, so different are the series of seasons, at intervals, that, down the very river of which Mitchell speaks in 1836 as a deep, dry ravine, containing only a scanty chain of small ponds, the boats of its first explorer, Mr. Oxley, had, in 1817, floated during a space of fifteen days, until they had reached a country almost entirely flooded, and the river seemed completely to lose itself among the shallow waters! During the winter of 1835, the whale-boats were drawn by the exploring party 1,600 miles over land,[21] without finding a river, where they could be used; whereas, in 1817 and 1818, Mr. Oxley had twice retired by nearly the same routes, and in the same season of the year, from supposed inland seas![22] So that, in fact, we rise from the perusal of two accounts of travellers of credit, both exploring the very same country, with the impression, from one statement, that there exists an endless succession of swamps, or an immense shallow, inland lake; where, from the other, we are taught to believe, there is nothing but a sandy desert to be found, or dry and cracked plains of clay, baked hard by the heat of the sun.

[18] This remarkable animal, called also the Ornithorynchus, is peculiar to Australia, it has the body of a beast combined with the mouth and feet of a duck, is to be seen frequently on the banks of the Glenelg, and that unusually near the coast.

[19] Water is proverbially "unstable," but what occurred to Major Mitchell's party on the Yarrayne, may serve for a specimen of the peculiar uncertainty of the waters of Australia. In the evening a bridge across that stream had been completed, and everything was prepared for crossing it, but in the morning of the following day no bridge was to be seen, the river having risen so much during the night, although no rain had fallen, that the bridge was four feet under water, and at noon the water had risen fourteen feet,—a change that could only be accounted for by the supposed melting of the snow near the sources of the stream.

[20] See Professor Buckland's Bridgewater Treatise, vol. i. Introduction, pp. 1, 2.

[21] See Mitchell's Three Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. p. 13.

[22] See Oxley's Journal, pp. 103, 244.

Changes of this sort in the seasons, affecting so powerfully the appearance of whole districts, cannot but have a proportionable effect on particular spots. Regent's Lake, the "noble lake," as its first discoverer, Oxley, called it, was, when Mitchell visited it, for the most part, a plain covered with luxuriant grass;[23] some good water, it is true, lodged on the most eastern extremity, but nowhere to a greater depth than a foot. There ducks and swans, in vast numbers, had taken refuge, and pelicans stood high upon their legs above the remains of Regent's Lake. On its northern margin, and within the former boundary of the lake, stood dead trees of a full-grown size, which had been apparently killed by too much water, plainly showing to what long periods the extremes of drought and moisture have extended, and may again extend, in this singular country. And some of the changes in scenery, within a short distance, and frequently arising from the same causes, the presence or absence of water, are very remarkable. In Major Mitchell's journal, at the date of April 10th, may be found the following observations: "We had passed through valleys, on first descending from the mountains, where the yellow oat-grass resembled a ripe crop of grain. But this resemblance to the emblem of plenty, made the desolation of these hopeless solitudes only the more apparent, abandoned, as they then were, alike by man, beast, and bird. No living thing remained in these valleys, for water, that element so essential to life, was a want too obvious in the dismal silence, (for not an insect hummed,) and the yellow hues of withering vegetation." On the next page of the journal, under the events of the following day, what a contrast appears:—"The evening was beautiful; the new grass springing in places where it had been burnt, presented a shining verdure in the rays of the descending sun; the songs of the birds accorded here with other joyous sounds, the very air seemed alive with the music of animated nature, so different was the scene in this well-watered valley, from that of the parched and silent region from which we had just descended. The natives, whom we met here, were fine-looking men, enjoying contentment and happiness, within the precincts of their native woods." They were very civil, and presented a burning stick to the strangers, at the moment when they saw that they wanted fire, in a manner expressive of welcome and of a wish to assist them. At a distance were the native fires, and the squalling of children might be heard, until at night the beautiful moon came forth, and the soft notes of a flute belonging to one of the Englishmen fell agreeably on the ear, while the eye was gratified by the moonbeams, as they gleamed from the trees, amid the curling smoke of the temporary encampment. The cattle were refreshing themselves in green pastures. It was Saturday night, and next day the party was to rest. How sweet a spot to repose from their toils and sufferings, and to lift up their hearts towards the mercy-seat of Him,—

"Who, in the busy crowded town, Regards each suppliant's cry;— Who, whether Nature smile or frown, Man's wants can still supply."

[23] Another lake, called Walljeers, at no very great distance from this, was found, with its whole expanse of about four miles in circumference, entirely covered with a sweet and fragrant plant, somewhat like clover, and eaten by the natives. Exactly resembling new-made hay in the perfume which it gives out even when in the freshest state of verdure, it was indeed "sweet to sense and lovely to the eye" in the heart of a desert country.

One of the greatest victories over natural difficulties that was ever gained by British courage and perseverance, was the exploring of the course of the Morrumbidgee and Murray rivers by Captain Sturt and his party, in the year 1830; and since their route was through a new country, and their descent from the high lands south-westward of Sydney, to the southern coast of New Holland was an amazing enterprise to project, much more to accomplish, an abridged account of it may not be unacceptable to the reader. And when it is remembered that the sight of the gallant officer commanding this expedition, was sacrificed almost entirely to "the effect of exposure and anxiety of mind in the prosecution of geographical researches,"[24] this fact may add to the interest which we feel in his adventures. The Murrumbidgee is a river which runs westerly from the district called Yass Plains, situated very nearly at the south-western extremity of New South Wales. It was for the purpose of exploring the course of this fine stream, that Captain Sturt was sent out at the latter end of 1829, and he had reached by land-conveyance a swampy region exactly resembling those marshes in which the Lachlan and Macquarie rivers had been supposed by Mr. Oxley to lose themselves. To proceed further by land was impossible, and, since they had brought with them a whale-boat, which had been drawn by oxen for many a weary mile, it was resolved to launch this on the river, a smaller boat was built in seven days only, and both boats being laden with necessaries, and manned with six hands, arrangements were made for forming a depot, and the rest of the party were sent back; and when the explorers thus parted company in the marshy plains of the Morrumbidgee, it appeared doubtful even to themselves whether they were ever likely to meet again in this world. Of the country, whither the stream would carry the little crew of adventurers, literally nothing was known. There might be a vast inland sea,—and then how could they hope with their frail barks to navigate it in safety for the very first time? Or, even if they did so, how were they to force their way back again to the remote dwelling-places of civilised man? The river might gradually waste itself among the morasses; and then, with their boats become useless for want of depth of water, how were they to walk across those endless levels of soft mud? or, supposing that to be practicable, how were their provisions to be conveyed, or whence, then, except from their boats, could they hope for a supply? Questions of this nature must have offered themselves to the minds of the daring spirits, who accompanied Captain Sturt; nor can due justice be rendered to their courage without a careful consideration of the dangers which they deliberately braved.

[24] See Sturt's Expeditions in Australia, vol. i. Dedication, p. 4.

Two oars only were used in the whale-boat, to the stern of which the skiff was fastened by a rope; but the progress of the party down the river was rapid. Having passed, in the midst of the marshes, the mouth of a considerable stream (supposed to be the Lachlan, here emptying its waters out from the midst of those swamps wherein it appeared to Mr. Oxley to be lost,) on the second day of their journey the voyagers met with an accident that had nearly compelled them to return. The skiff struck upon a sunken log, and, immediately filling, went down in about twelve feet of water. Damage was done to some of the provisions, and many tools were thrown overboard, though these were afterwards regained by means of diving and great labour, and the skiff was got up again. In the very same night a robbery was committed by the natives; and a frying-pan, three cutlasses, and five tomahawks, with the pea of the steelyards—altogether no small loss in the Australian desert—were carried off. The country in this part is "a waving expanse of reeds, and as flat as possible," and the river, instead of increasing in its downward course, seemed rather to be diminishing. After some days, however, the party had passed through this flooded region, and reached a boundless flat, with no object for the eye to rest upon, beyond the dark and gloomy woods by which it was occupied. Several rapids occurred in the river; and, during great part of two days the channel was so narrow and so much blocked up with huge trees, that, in spite of every effort, the adventurers were expecting their boat every moment to strike. For two hours in the afternoon of the second of these days of anxiety, the little vessels were hurried rapidly along the winding reaches of the Morrumbidgee, until suddenly they found themselves borne upon the bosom of a broad and noble river, in comparison with which that which they had just quitted bore the appearance of an insignificant opening! The width of the large stream thus discovered was about 350 feet, and its depth from 12 to 20 feet, whilst its banks, although averaging 18 feet in height, were evidently subject to floods. The breadth of rich soil between its outer and inner banks was very inconsiderable, and the upper levels were poor and sandy. As the party descended, the adjoining country became somewhat higher and a little undulating, and natives were seen, while the Murray (for such was the name given to their new discovery) improved upon them every mile they proceeded. Four natives of a tribe with which they had met followed them, as guides, for some distance, and, after having nearly lost their largest boat upon a rock in the midst of a rapid, the British travellers continued their onward course, and a sail was hoisted for the first time, in order to save, as much as was possible, the strength of the men.

The country in this part of their voyage was again very low, and they fell in with a large body of savages, with whom they were on the point of being forced, in self-defence, to have a deadly encounter, when suddenly the four natives who had accompanied them appeared running at full speed, and, through their assistance, though not without some difficulty, bloodshed was prevented. Very shortly after this adventure, when the men had just pushed their boat off from a shoal, upon which it had struck, they noticed a new and considerable stream coming from the north, and uniting its waters with those of the Murray. Upon landing on the right bank of the newly-discovered stream, the natives came swimming over from motives of curiosity; and there were not less than 600 of these, belonging to some of the most ferocious tribes in Australia, surrounding eight Englishmen—Captain Sturt, his friend M'Leay, and the crew—which last had been preserved by an almost miraculous intervention of Providence in their favour. The boat was afterwards pulled a few miles up the recently-discovered river, which is reasonably supposed to have been the Darling, from whose banks, some hundreds of miles higher up, Captain Sturt had twice been forced to retire in a former expedition. Its sides were sloping and grassy, and overhung by magnificent trees; in breadth it was about 100 yards, and in depth rather more than twelve feet, and the men pleased themselves by exclaiming, upon entering it, that they had got into an English river. A net extending right across the stream at length checked their progress; for they were unwilling to disappoint the numbers who were expecting their food that day from this source. So the men rested on their oars in the midst of the smooth current of the Darling, the Union-Jack was hoisted, and, giving way to their feelings, all stood up in the boat, and gave three distinct cheers. "The eye of every native along the banks had been fixed upon that noble flag, at all times a beautiful object," says Captain Sturt, "and to them a novel one, as it waved over us in the heart of a desert. They had, until that moment, been particularly loquacious, but the sight of that flag and the sound of our voices hushed the tumult; and while they were still lost in astonishment, the boat's head was speedily turned, the sail was sheeted home, both wind and current were in our favour, and we vanished from them with a rapidity that surprised even ourselves, and which precluded every hope of the most adventurous among them to keep up with us."[25]

[25] Sturt's Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. pp. 109, 110.

Cheered with the gratification of national feeling thus powerfully described, the patient crew returned to their toils in descending the Murray, whose banks continued unchanged for some distance; but its channel was much encumbered with timber, some very large sand-banks were seen, and several rapids were passed. The skiff being found more troublesome than useful, was broken up and burned. On one occasion, during a friendly interview with some of the savages, some clay was piled up, as a means of inquiring whether there were any hills near; and two or three of the blacks, catching the meaning, pointed to the N. W., in which direction two lofty ranges were seen from the top of a tree, and were supposed to be not less than 40 miles distant, but the country through which the Murray passed still continued low.

The heat was excessive and the weather very dry, while the banks of the river appeared to be thickly peopled for Australia, and the British strangers contrived to keep upon good terms with the natives. After having passed one solitary cliff of some height, they met with stormy weather for a few days, and several tributary streams of some size were perceived mingling their waters with those of the Murray, the left bank of which became extremely lofty, and, though formed almost wholly of clay and sand, it bore the appearance of columns or battlements, the sand having been washed away in many places, while the clay was left hollowed out more like the work of art than of nature. After a continued descent of 22 days, the party, who were pleased with the noble character of the river upon which they were, though disappointed at the poverty of the country through which it passed, began to grow somewhat weary; but upon inquiries being made of the natives no tidings could be gained respecting their approach towards the sea. The navigation of every natural stream is rendered tedious, though beautiful, by its devious course, but, "what with its regular turns, and its extensive sweeps, the Murray covers treble the ground, at a moderate computation, that it would occupy in a direct course." The current became weaker, and the channel deeper, as they proceeded down the stream, and the cliffs of clay and sand were succeeded by others of a very curious formation, being composed of shells closely compacted together, but having the softer parts so worn away, that the whole cliff bore in many places the appearance of human skulls piled one upon the other. At first, this remarkable formation did not rise more than a foot above the water, but within ten miles from this spot it exceeded 150 feet in height, the country in the vicinity became undulating, and the river itself was confined in a glen whose extreme breadth did not exceed half a mile. An old man, a native, was met with hereabouts, who appeared by his signs to indicate that the explorers were at no great distance from some remarkable change. The old man pointed to the N. W., and then placed his hand on the side of his head, in token, it was supposed, of their sleeping to the N. W. of the spot where they were. He then pointed due south, describing by his action, the roaring of the sea, and the height of the waves. A line of cliffs, from two to three hundred feet in height, flanked the river upon alternate sides, but the rest of the country was level, and the soil upon the table-land at the top of the cliffs very poor and sterile. The next change of scenery brought them to cliffs of a higher description, which continued on both sides of the river, though not always close to it. The stream lost its sandy bed and its current together, and became deep, still, and turbid, with a muddy bottom; and the appearance of the water lashing against the base of the cliffs reminded the anxious voyagers of the sea. The scenery became in many places beautiful, and the river was never less than 400 yards in breadth. Some sea-gulls were seen flying over the boat, and being hailed as the messengers of good tidings, they were not permitted to be shot. The adverse wind and the short, heavy waves rendered the labour at the oar very laborious, but the hope of speedily gaining some noble inlet—a harbour worthy to form the mouth of a stream like the Murray—encouraged the crew to pull on manfully, and to disregard fatigue. The salt meat was all spoiled, and had been given to the dogs; fish no one would eat, and of wild fowl there was none to be seen; so that the provisions of the party consisted of little else but flour. And already, though hitherto they had been performing the easiest part of their task, having had the stream in their favour, it was evident that the men were much reduced, besides which they were complaining of sore eyes.

These circumstances all combined to increase the natural anxiety felt by the little band of adventurers to reach the termination of the Murray; and as its valley opened to two, three, and four miles of breadth, while the width of the river increased to the third of a mile, the expectations of the men toiling at the oar became proportionably excited. The cliffs ceased, and gave place to undulating hills; no pleasure-ground could have been more tastefully laid out than the country to the right, and the various groups of trees, disposed upon the sides of the elevations that bounded the western side of the valley, were most ornamental. On the opposite side, the country was less inviting, and the hills were bleak and bare. At length a clear horizon appeared to the south, the direction in which the river was flowing; Captain Sturt landed to survey the country, and beneath him was the great object of his search, the termination of one of Australia's longest and largest streams. Immediately below him was a beautiful lake, of very large extent, and greatly agitated by the wind. Ranges of hills were observed to the westward, stretching from north to south, and distant forty miles. Between these hills and the place where the traveller stood, the western bank of the Murray was continued in the form of a beautiful promontory projecting into the lake, and between this point and the base of the ranges the vast sheet of water before him extended in the shape of a bay. The scene was altogether a very fine one; but disappointment was a prevailing feeling in the mind of the explorer, for it was most likely that there would be no practicable communication for large ships between the lake and the ocean, and thus a check was put upon the hopes that had been entertained of having at length discovered a large and navigable river leading into the interior of New Holland. The lake, called Lake Alexandrina, which was fifty miles long and forty broad,[26] was crossed with the assistance of a favourable wind; its waters were found to be generally very shallow, and the long, narrow, and winding channel by which it communicates with the ocean was found, as it had been feared, almost impracticable even for the smallest vessels. This channel unites itself with the sea on the south-western coast of New Holland, at the bottom of a bay named Encounter Bay, one boundary of which is Cape Jervis, by which it is separated from St. Vincent's Gulph,—the very part of the coast where a ship was to be despatched by the Governor of New South Wales to afford the party assistance, in case of their being successful in penetrating to the sea-shore. Flour and tea were the only articles remaining of their store of provisions, and neither of these were in sufficient quantities to last them to the place where they expected to find fresh supplies inland. But the first view of Encounter Bay convinced them that no vessel could ever venture into it at a season when the S. W. winds prevailed, and to the deep bight which it formed upon the coast (at the bottom of which they then were), it was hopeless to expect any vessel to approach so nearly as to be seen by them. To remain there was out of the question; to cross the ranges towards the Gulph of St. Vincent, when the men had no strength to walk, and the natives were numerous and not peaceably disposed, was equally impossible. The passage from the lake to the ocean was not without interruption, from the shallowness of the sandy channel, otherwise Captain Sturt, in his little boat, would have coasted round to Port Jackson, or steered for Launceston, in Van Dieman's Land; and this he declares he would rather have done, could he have foreseen future difficulties, than follow the course which he did. Having walked across to the entrance of the channel, and found it quite impracticable and useless, he resolved to return along the same route by which he had come, only with these important additional difficulties to encounter,—diminished strength, exhausted stores, and an adverse current. The provisions were found sufficient only for the same number of days upon their return as they had occupied in descending the river, and speed was no less desirable in order to avoid encounters with the natives than for the purpose of escaping the miseries of want; into which, however, it was felt, a single untoward accident might in an instant plunge them. With feelings of this description the party left Lake Alexandrina and re-entered the channel of the Murray.

[26] The dimensions given in Captain Sturt's map. The South-Australian Almanac states it to be sixty miles long, and varying in width from ten to forty miles.

It will be needless to follow the explorers through all the particulars of their journey upwards to the depot on the Morrumbidgee. The boat struck, the natives were troublesome, the rapids difficult to get over; but the worst of all their toils and trials were their daily labours and unsatisfied wants. One circumstance ought, in justice to the character of the men, to be noticed. They positively refused to touch six pounds of sugar that were still remaining in the cask, declaring that, if divided, it would benefit nobody, whereas it would last during some time for the use of Captain Sturt and Mr. M'Leay, who were less able to submit to privations than they were. After having continued for no less than fifty-five days upon the waters of the Murray, it was with great joy that they quitted this stream, and turned their boat into the gloomy and narrow channel of the Morrumbidgee. Having suffered much privation, anxiety, and labour, and not without one or two unpleasant encounters with the natives, at length the party reached their depot, but they found it deserted! During seventy-seven days they could not have pulled, according to Captain Sturt's calculation, less than 2000 miles; and now, worn out by fatigue and want, they were compelled to proceed yet further, and to endure, for some time longer, the most severe privations to which man can be exposed. But, under the guidance of Divine Providence, the lives of all were preserved, and now the reward of their deeds of heroism is willingly bestowed upon them. Among the boldest exploits ever performed by man, the descent of Captain Sturt and his companions down the Murray, and their return to the same spot again, may deserve to be justly ranked.[27] Nor, however disappointing the result of their examination of the mouth of the Murray may have been, was their daring adventure without its useful consequences. The lake Alexandrina is said to be navigable across for vessels drawing six feet of water, and the entrance to the sea, though rather difficult in heavy weather, is safe in moderate weather for vessels of the same size. The Murray itself is navigable for steam-vessels for many hundred miles, and probably it will not be very long before these modern inventions are introduced upon its waters.

[27] For the account of this voyage, see Sturt's Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. pp. 72-221.

Whoever has seen any recent map of New Holland must have been struck with the curious appearance of a vast semicircle of water, called Lake Torrens, near the southern coast, and extending many miles inland from the head of Spencer's Gulph. A range of hills, named Flinders' Range, runs to a considerable distance inland, taking its rise near the head of the gulph just mentioned, and Lake Torrens nearly surrounds the whole of the low country extending from this mountainous ridge. This immense lake is supposed to resemble in shape a horse-shoe, and to extend for full 400 miles, whilst its apparent breadth is from 20 to 30. The greater part of the vast area contained in its bed is certainly dry on the surface, and consists of a mixture of sand and mud, of so soft and yielding a character as to render perfectly unavailing all attempts either to cross it, or to reach the edge of the water, which appears to exist at a distance of some miles from the outer margin. Once only was Mr. Eyre, the enterprising discoverer of this singular lake, able to taste of its waters, and then he found them as salt as the sea. The low, miserable, desert country in the neighbourhood, and Lake Torrens itself, act as a kind of barrier against the progress of inland discovery at the back of the colony of South Australia, since it is impossible to penetrate very far into the interior, without making a great circle either to the east or to the west. The portion of the bed of the lake which is exposed is thickly coated with particles of salt; there are few trees or shrubs of any kind to be found near, nor are grass and fresh water by any means abundant. Altogether, the neighbourhood of Lake Torrens would seem a very miserable region, and forms a strong contrast to the smiling and cultivated district of which it forms the back country.[28]

[28] These particulars are taken from the South-Australian Almanac for 1841, pp. 68-73.

Although Australia, in its natural and uncultivated state, abounds in trees, like most other wild countries, nevertheless, there are vast and extensive tracts where the plains are entirely bare, or covered only with a low, thick, and often prickly, bush, or else are what is termed "open forest," that is, are dotted about with fine trees, dispersed in various groups, and resembling the scenery of an English park. The greatest peculiarity of the native forests appears to be, that the whole of their trees and shrubs are evergreen,[29] although European trees will flourish in the land of the south without acquiring this peculiarity, or losing their deciduous character. But it is rather a subject of complaint against the woods of New Holland, that they have very little picturesque effect in them, which may be partly owing to the poverty of the foliage of the prevailing tree, the eucalyptus, (commonly called the iron-bark, or blue gum, according to its species,) which seldom has anything ornamental to landscape, either in the trunk or branches. These sombre trees are, however, very useful for timber, and they grow to an astonishing height, often rearing up their lofty heads to 150 feet or upwards. The woods, in general, are very brittle, partly, it may be, owing to the number of acacias which are to be found among them; and no experienced bushman likes to sleep under trees, especially during high winds. We must by no means form our ideas of the appearance of an Australian forest from that of the neat and trim woods of our own country, where every single branch or bough, and much more every tree, bears a certain value. Except that portion which is required for fuel or materials by an extremely scattered population in a very mild climate, there is nothing carried off from the forests, and, were it not for the frequent and destructive fires which the natives kindle in many parts, no check worth mentioning would be placed upon the natural increase and decay of the woods of New Holland. The consequence of this is, that trees are to be seen there in every stage of growth or ruin; and, occasionally, in very thickly-planted spots, the surface of the ground is not a little encumbered by the fallen branches and trunks of the ancient ornaments of the forest. Nor is it by the hand of Time alone that these marks of destruction are scattered about in the vast woodlands; the breath of a tremendous storm will occasionally accomplish, perhaps, as much in a few hours as natural decay would in many years.[30] Altogether, the forests of Australia may be said to be in a purely natural state, and thus do they offer to the eye of the inquiring traveller many objects less pleasing, it may be, but nevertheless more sublime and solemn, than those with which the woods of more cultivated countries commonly abound.

[29] See Wentworth's Australasia, vol. i. p. 3.

[30] See Account of the Effects of a Storm at Mount Macedon, (Mitchell's "Three Expeditions," vol. ii. p. 283.)

To travel without any beaten track through a country clothed, in many parts, very thickly, by forests like those just described, is in itself no easy undertaking, and the operation of hewing a way for a mile or two through the surrounding woods, during the very heat of the day, and sometimes after a long march, is very trying. But when the exposure to burning thirst, and to the uncertain disposition of the native inhabitants is added, the patient endurance of successful explorers is still more strongly displayed. Nor, although it be only a minor annoyance, must the pain and inconvenience felt by wanderers in the bush from the prickly grass, which is found abundantly in the sandy districts, be forgotten. In those barren sands, where no grass grows, there are frequently tufts of a prickly bush, which tortures the horses, and tears to pieces the clothes of the men about their ankles, if they are walking. This bush, called the prickly grass, and a dwarf tree, the Eucalyptus dumosa, grows only where the soil appears too barren and loose for anything else; indeed, were it not for these, the sand would probably drift away, and cover the vegetation of neighbouring spots less barren and miserable. Against this evil, nature seems to have provided by the presence of two plants so singularly fitted for a soil of this description. The root of the Eucalyptus dumosa resembles that of a large tree; but it has no trunk, and only a few branches rise above the ground, forming an open kind of bush, often so low that a man on horseback may look over it for miles. This dwarf tree, and the prickly grass together, occupy the ground, and seem intended to bind down the sands of Australia. The size of the roots prevents the bush from growing very close together, and the stems being without leaves, except at the top, this kind of Eucalyptus is almost proof against the running fires of the bush. The prickly grass resembles, at a distance, in colour and form, an overgrown lavender plant, but the blades of it, consisting of sharp spikes, occasion most cruel annoyance both to men and horses. Another inconvenience and danger to which exploring parties are liable, are those fires in the bush already alluded to; which, whether caused by accident, or designedly by the natives, are not uncommon events.[31] "The country seemed all on fire around us."—"All the country beyond the river was in flames; one spark might have set the whole country on our side in a blaze, and then no food would remain for the cattle, not to mention the danger to our stores and ammunition." "Fires prevailed extensively at great distances in the interior, and the sultry air seemed heated by the general conflagration;" these expressions convey rather alarming ideas of the dangers to which travellers are exposed in the bush, and from which it is not always easy to make good an escape.

[31] On one occasion the progress of the fire was against the wind. See this stated and explained by Major Mitchell, "Three Expeditions," vol. i. p. 19.

It may have been observed, possibly, in what has been related of the country and scenery of New Holland in its natural state, that the descriptions of very beautiful or fertile spots have been comparatively few. Now, although it is true that a very large portion of the known surface of that island is occupied by the sandstone rock, which is in its very nature utterly barren, nevertheless, it is by no means to be supposed that there is any scarcity of most rich and beautiful land—some of it fit for immediate occupation—to be found in most parts of Australia. In attempting to draw a picture of a distant and remarkable region, we are almost sure to mark and bring distinctly out its most peculiar and striking features; the scenes resembling those of our own quiet and happy land are passed over as tame and familiar, while the dreariness of the desert, the horrors of a "barren and dry land where no water is,"—the boundless plains, or the bare mountain-tops, the lonely shore or the rocky isle—scenes like these, are commonly dwelt upon and described. In short, the very spots which are least enticing, in reality, for the colonist to settle in, are often most agreeable, in description, for the stranger to read of.

But, since the reader must not be left with the erroneous and unpleasant impression that the country of which we have been treating is, for the most part, a mere wilderness, if not a desert, we may select two recently-discovered districts of it to serve for a favourable specimen of the beauty and fertility of many others, which cannot now be noticed.

The following description of Wellington Valley (now recently included in the limits of the colony,) is from the pen of its first discoverer, Mr. Oxley, and other travellers bear witness that it is not overcharged: "A mile and a half brought us into the valley which we had seen on our first descending into the glen: imagination cannot fancy anything more beautifully picturesque than the scene which burst upon us. The breadth of the valley, to the base of the opposite gently-rising hills, was between three and four miles, studded with fine trees, upon a soil which for richness can nowhere be exceeded; its extent, north and south, we could not see: to the west, it was bounded by the lofty rocky ranges by which we had entered it; these were covered to the summit with cypresses and acacias in full bloom, and a few trees in bright green foliage gave additional beauty to the scene. In the centre of this charming valley ran a strong and beautiful stream, its bright, transparent waters dashing over a gravelly bottom, intermingled with large stones, forming at short intervals considerable pools, in which the rays of the sun were reflected with a brilliancy equal to that of the most polished mirror. The banks were low and grassy, with a margin of gravel and pebble-stones; there were marks of flood to the height of about twelve feet, when the river would still be confined within its secondary banks, and not overflow the rich lands that bordered it. Its usual width is 200 feet; in times of flood it would be from 600 to 800 feet."[32]

[32] See Oxley's Journals, pp. 184-7.

In Australia Felix, as it has been called by its discoverer, Major Mitchell, which is a much larger district than that just described, almost every earthly delight and advantage would likewise seem to have combined to make it a perfect dwelling-place for man. The temperate and mild climate; the neighbourhood of the sea; the variety and fertility of its surface; the ranges of lofty and picturesque mountains by which it is backed; the number of rivers, small and large, by which it is watered; the comparatively open nature of the country, yet not without an ample supply of timber close at hand; all these and other advantages unite in rendering Australia Felix one of the most desirable spots upon the face of the globe. And the beauties and blessings of a spot like this, must have stood forth in bold contrast with the dreary, lifeless plains of the Darling, or Lachlan, which the discoverers of Australia Felix had so long been engaged in exploring. One of the first harbingers of the better country, to which the travellers were drawing near, was a very curious height, called Pyramid Hill, which is formed of granite, and, being a triangular pyramid, standing quite alone, closely resembles the monuments of ancient Egypt. It rises 300 feet above the surrounding plain; its point consists of a single block of granite, and the view over the neighbouring country was exceedingly beautiful. The scene was different from anything the travellers had elsewhere witnessed. "A land so inviting, and still without inhabitants![33] As I stood," continues the explorer, warming with the thoughts of his discovery, "the first European intruder on the sublime solitude of these verdant plains, as yet untouched by flocks or herds, I felt conscious of being the harbinger of mighty changes; and that our steps would soon be followed by the men and animals for which it seemed to have been prepared." Twelve days afterwards, the whole of which had been spent in traversing a district rich and lovely in the extreme, the first view of a noble range of mountains (the Grampians) was obtained; they rose in the south to a stupendous height, and presented as bold and picturesque an outline as ever painter imagined.[34] And, during a journey of many days, the same rich and sublime scenery still appeared, mingled together in beautiful and endless variety. Every day the party of travellers passed over land which, for natural fertility and beauty, could scarcely be surpassed; over streams of unfailing abundance, and plains covered with the richest pasturage. Stately trees and majestic mountains adorned the ever-varying landscape, the most southern region of all Australia, and the best. On the river Glenelg, which was discovered about a month after they had left Pyramid Hill, the land appeared everywhere alike good, alike beautiful; whether on the finely-varied hills, or in the equally romantic vales, which opened in endless succession on both banks of the river. Further on in this lovely district, the British explorers came upon fresh scenes of surpassing sweetness. A small party of them were out upon an excursion, when they perceived before them a ridge in the blue distance—rather an unusual object in that close country. They soon after quitted the wood through which they had been passing, and found that they were on a kind of table-land, approaching a deep ravine coming from their right, which terminated on a very fine-looking open country below, watered by a winding river. They descended by a bold projection to the bottom of the ravine, and found there a foaming little river, hurrying downwards over rocks. After fording this stream, they ascended a very steep but grassy mountain-side, and, on reaching a brow of high land, a noble prospect appeared; a river winding among meadows that were fully a mile broad, and green as an emerald. Above them rose swelling hills of fantastic shapes, but all smooth and thickly covered with rich verdure. Behind these were higher hills, all having grass on their sides, and trees on their summits, and extending east and west throughout the landscaper as far as could be seen. After riding about two miles along an entirely open, grassy ridge, the party again found the Glenelg, flowing eastward towards an apparently much lower country. The river was making for the coast, (turning southward some miles below the hill on which they stood,) through a country far surpassing in beauty and richness any part hitherto discovered.

[33] Not quite so; they soon fell in with a few of the scattered wanderers of the bush.

[34] See the interesting account of Major Mitchell's ascent to Mount William, the highest point of these hills.—MITCHELL'S Three Expeditions, vol. ii. pp. 171-181.

What, in fact, is there wanting to the charming and extensive region just described, or what to hundreds of other fruitful and lovely districts under the power of the British crown, except civilised inhabitants, and the establishment of a branch of Christ's "one Catholic and Apostolic Church?" The population is ready, nay, even redundant, in England; nor are the means deficient in a land abounding beyond all others in wealthy capitalists. But the will, the wisdom, the understanding heart, the united counsels, are, it is to be feared, and are likely still to be, wanting with us. May that God who maketh men to be of one mind in a house or nation, so dispose events, that in due time the valleys and hills of Australia Felix may be dotted with churches, and filled with faithful members of Christ! Then will it become a happy land indeed. Then may its inhabitants feel a lively interest, both in the social and religious welfare of their country; and each one may join, from the distant shores of the once unknown Southern Land, in the holy aspirations of the Royal Prophet: "For my brethren and companions' sakes I will wish thee prosperity. Yea, because of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee good."[35]

[35] Psalm cxxii. 8,9.



CHAPTER III.

NATIVES OF THE BUSH.

In most instances in which a country is taken possession of, and its original inhabitants are removed, enslaved, or exterminated, the party thus violently seizing upon the rights of others is considered the superior and more civilized nation of the two. The very means by which this advantage is gained are, usually, boldness, and worldly talent, without which a conquest or successful invasion is impossible; and these, when prosperous, are qualities which awaken very powerfully the admiration and attention of men. So that, while earthly prosperity and excellence are combining to cast a splendour around the actions of the successful nation, adversity and inferiority do usually join in blackening the cloud which hangs over the character of that which is unfortunate. It is not for us to defend these judgments of the world, as though they were, in any case, altogether righteous judgments, but this we may safely affirm, in the particular instance of Australia, that, upon the whole, it is a gain to the cause of truth and virtue for Christian England to possess those wilds, which lately were occupied by miserable natives; and, while we own that it is wrong to do evil that good may come, yet may we, likewise, confess with thankfulness the Divine mercy and wisdom which have so often brought good out of the evil committed by our countrymen in these distant lands. It must be confessed, too, that, whatever may be the amount of iniquity wantonly committed among the natives of the other portions of the globe, for which Europe is responsible, still, the Europeans, upon the whole, stand higher than the inhabitants of the remaining portions, and, of course, in proportion, very much higher than the most degraded and least-improved race of savages, the Australian natives. True, indeed, these despised Australians may, hereafter, rise up in judgment against Europeans to condemn them; and when that which has been given to each race of men shall be again required of them, those that have received the most may frequently be found to have profited the least by the gifts of Divine Providence. Still, without pretending to pass judgment upon any, whether nations or individual persons,—without affecting, either, to close our eyes against the miserable vices by which the Christian name has been disgraced, and our country's glory sullied, among distant and barbarous nations, we may with safety speak of the inhabitants of those heathen lands in terms that are suitable to their degraded state. In describing their darkened and almost brutal condition, we are but describing things as they really exist;[36] it changes not the actual fact to prove that, in many more respects than would at first sight appear, the behaviour of men of our own enlightened nation is scarcely less darkened or less brutal than theirs. Nay, the Australian savage, in his natural state, may be a far higher and nobler character than the British convict sometimes is in his degraded state; and, nevertheless, it may be correct to class the nation of the former among barbarians, and that of the latter among civilized people. But in forming our judgment respecting the real character of the natives of the Bush we must beware lest we try them by our own standard,—a standard by which it is unjust to measure them, since they have never known it, nor ever had the means of reaching it.[37] Every wise man will make all possible allowance for the effect of many generations of ignorance and degradation upon the human soul, and when this has been fairly done, the truly wise man, the humble Christian, whilst he reads of the deplorable condition to which the human soul may be reduced, (as it is shown in the instance before us,) will feel disposed to ask himself, "Who made thee to differ from others? And what hast thou that thou didst not receive?"

[36] One crime, in which the inhabitants of the neighbouring islands of New Zealand notoriously indulge, has been charged also upon the people of New Holland; but, since no mention of their cannibalism is made by those British travellers who have seen most of the habits of the natives, it is hoped that the charge is an unfounded one. See, however, M. Martin's New South Wales, pp. 151-2, and the instance of Gome Boak, in Collins' History of New South Wales, p. 285; and Sturt's Expeditions in Australia, vol. ii. p. 222.

[37] Nay, our fellow-countrymen in the Australian colonies, can, by no means, endure a strict trial, even by their own rule of right. Take, for instance, the following very common case:—The kangaroo disappears from cattle-runs, and is also killed by stockmen, merely for the sake of the skin; but no mercy is shown to the natives who may help themselves to a bullock or a sheep. They do not, it is true, breed and feed the kangaroos as our people rear and fatten cattle, but, at least, the wild animals are bred and fed upon their land, and consequently belong to them.

The native population of Australia is very peculiar in many respects, not exactly resembling any other known race of human beings in the world. They are more nearly akin to the Africans than to any others, and they have, accordingly, been sometimes called the Eastern Negroes, having the same thick lips, high cheek-bones, sunken eyes, and legs without calves, which distinguish the native of Africa; but, with the exception of Van Diemen's Land, and the adjoining coasts, the woolly hair of the negro is not to be found among them, nor is the nose usually so flat, or the forehead so low. They are seldom very tall, but generally well made; and their bodily activity is most surprising; nor is their courage at all to be despised. The Australian native has always been pointed out as being the lowest specimen of human nature, and, since, in every scale of degrees, one must be lowest, this is probably correct enough; yet we are by no means to give too hasty credit to the accounts of their condition, which have been given by those whose interest it may have been to represent them in as unfavourable a light as possible, or whose opportunities of judging have been few and scanty, compared with their hasty willingness to pass judgment upon them. Men, more or less busily engaged in killing and taking possession, are not likely to make a very favourable report of those poor creatures into whose inheritance they have come; mere self-defence would tempt them to try to lessen the greatness of their crimes, by asserting the victims of these to be scarcely deserving of a better fate, and, in the present instance, the actual condition of the native population would be very favourable to excuses of this kind. Or, even without this evil intention of excusing wrong by slandering those that suffer it, many men, with but few means of understanding their character, may have spoken decidedly respecting the Australian natives, and that, too, in language even harsher than their degraded state would justify. Disgusting and horrid many of their habits and customs undoubtedly are, yet they appear even more so at first sight, and to one only imperfectly acquainted with them; especially when (which often happens) not the slightest allowance is made for the peculiar situation of the savage, but he is taken at once from the midst of his naked barbarity, and tried by the rules of refinement and civilization. Recently, indeed, public attention and pity have been more turned towards the unhappy race of natives, and many traits have been discovered in their character which would not dishonour more enlightened nations. The degraded position of those who are in the midst of the white population affords no just criterion of their merits. Their quickness of apprehension is often surprising, and nothing, however new and strange, seems to puzzle or astonish them; so that they follow closely the advice of the ancient poet:

"Wonder at nought:—the only rule I know To make man happy, and to keep him so."

"They are never awkward," says Major Mitchell, who was well qualified to speak from experience; "on the contrary, in manners, and general intelligence, they appear superior to any class of white rustics that I have seen. Their powers of mimicry seem extraordinary, and their shrewdness shines even through the medium of imperfect language, and renders them, in general, very agreeable companions." We may, therefore, if our inquiry be accompanied by humility and justice, be able to form a fair and impartial opinion respecting these people; and the result of an inquiry of this sort must be, in every well-regulated soul, not merely a feeling of thankfulness (still less of self-sufficiency,) that we are far removed from the savage state, but, likewise, a sense of shame, that, with many of our fellow-countrymen, their superior advantages have been productive of little or no fruit.

One very remarkable distinction of the natives of the Bush is, the entire absence of clothing, unless the cloak, made of opossum-skin, worn by some tribes, can deserve to be thought an exception. Their climate being, generally speaking, a dry one, and exposure to the air, even at night, being much less hurtful than in most other countries, this habit of going without clothing, after the fashion of a brute beast, is by no means so dangerous in Australia as it would be elsewhere. But, while they can dispense with clothes, like most other savages, they are extremely fond of ornaments,—at least, of what they esteem to be such: these are teeth of kangaroos, or men, jaw-bones of a fish, feathers, tails of dogs, pieces of wood, &c., fastened on different parts of the head, by a sort of gum; while scars, and marks of various kinds, are made upon the breast, arms, and back; or, upon certain occasions, as going to war, or mourning for a friend, the body is streaked over with white and yellow paint, according to the taste of the party concerned. In two very distant parts of Australia, namely, the gulf of Carpentaria, and the eastern coast of St. Vincent's Gulf, the natives practise the rite of circumcision—a remarkable agreement, when we consider that they are about 1200 miles apart, and have no means of communication with each other. It is no uncommon custom, either, for the natives to pierce their noses, and to place a bone or reed through the opening, which is reckoned a great ornament. But there is another custom, almost peculiar to Australia, which, from its singularity, may deserve to be noticed at some length. Among many of the native tribes,[38] it is usual for the males to have a front tooth, or sometimes two, struck out at the time of their arriving at manhood, and this ceremony is performed in a most solemn and impressive manner. The following account of it, from the pen of an eye-witness, may be not unacceptable to the reader: Lieutenant Collins, the historian of the infant colony of New South Wales, was present during the whole of this curious operation, and thus describes the accompanying ceremonies practised by the natives of that part of Australia:—For seven days previous to the commencement of the solemnity, the people continued to assemble, and the evenings were spent in dancing, for which they adorned themselves in their best manner, namely, by painting themselves white, and especially by drawing white circles round their eyes. When the field was prepared, and the youths who were to be enrolled among men were all placed together upon one side of it, the business began with a loud shout, and a clattering of shields and spears, from the armed party, whose office it was to seize the patients about to undergo the extraordinary operation. This was done one by one, until the whole number, fifteen, were brought forward, and placed in the midst of the armed body of men; then each youth was made to sit down, holding his head downwards, with his hands clasped, and his legs crossed under him, in which painful posture it was said they were to remain all night, without looking up or taking any refreshment whatever.[39] The Carrahdis, or persons who were to perform the operation, now began some of their strange mummeries. Each one of these, in his turn, appeared to suffer most extreme agony, and put himself into every posture that pain could occasion, until, at length, a bone was brought forward, which was intended to be used in the ensuing ceremony; and the poor youths were led to believe that the more pain these Carrahdis suffered in obtaining the bone, the less would be theirs in losing a tooth. The following day began with the ceremony of the fifteen operators running round upon their hands and feet, in imitation of the dogs of that country, and throwing upon the boys, as they passed, sand and dirt with their hands and feet. The youths were perfectly still and silent, and it was understood that this ceremony gave them power over the dog, and endowed them with whatever good qualities that animal might possess.

[38] Speaking of a tribe which he found upon the banks of the Darling, Mitchell says, "The men retained all their front teeth, and had no scarifications on their bodies, two most unfashionable peculiarities among the aborigines." (MITCHELL'S Three Expeditions, vol. i. p. 261.) The same intelligent traveller accounts for the custom of knocking out the teeth, by supposing it a typical sacrifice, probably derived from early sacrificial rites. The cutting off the last joint of the little finger of females, (he adds,) seems a custom of the same kind. It is a curious observation, that the more ferocious among the natives on the Darling were those tribes that had not lost their front teeth.—Vol. ii. p. 345, and vol. i. p. 304.

[39] This was not the fact, however, for Lieut. Collins found them in a different place, when he went to the spot early in the next morning.

The next part that was performed, was the offering of a sham kangaroo, made of grass, to the fifteen lads, who were still seated as before. One man brought the kangaroo, and a second carried some brushwood, besides having one or two flowering shrubs stuck through his nose, and both seemed to stagger under the weight of their burdens. Stalking and limping, they at last reached the feet of the youthful hunters, and placed before them the prize of the chase, after which they went away, as though entirely wearied out. By this rite was given the power of killing the kangaroo, and the brushwood, most likely, was meant to represent its common haunt. In about an hour's space, the chief actors returned from a valley to which they had retired, bringing with them long tails of grass, which were fitted to the girdle. By the help of this addition, they imitated a herd of kangaroos, one man beating time to them with a club on a shield, and two others, armed, followed them and affected to steal unnoticed upon them to spear them. As soon as these pretended kangaroos had passed the objects of their visit, they instantly got rid of their artificial tails, each man caught up a lad, and, placing him upon his shoulders, carried him off in triumph to the last scene of this strange exhibition.

After walking a short distance, the men put down their burdens, placing them in a cluster, each boy with his head upon his breast, and his hands clasped together. In a few minutes, after a greater degree of mystery and preparation than had been before observed, the youthful band was brought forward to a place where a number of human beings were seen lying with their faces to the ground, as if they were dead, and in front of these was a man seated on a stump of a tree, bearing another man upon his shoulders, both having their arms extended, while two men, in a like attitude, were seen also behind the group of prostrate figures. These first two men made most hideous faces for a few minutes, and then the lads were led over the bodies lying on the ground, which moved and writhed, as though in great agony; after which the same strange grimaces were repeated by the two men who were placed on the further side of the apparently dead bodies. All the information that could be gained of the meaning of this, was, that it would make them brave men; that they would see well and fight well. Then followed a sort of martial exercise with spear and shield, in the presence of the future warriors, to signify to them what was to be one great business of their lives—the use of the spear; and, when this was finished, the preparations for striking out the tooth commenced. The first subject of this barbarous operation was chosen, and seated upon the shoulders of a native, who himself sat down upon the grass; and then the bone was produced, which had cost so much apparent pain to procure the evening before, and which was made very sharp and fine at one end, for the purpose of lancing the gum. But for some such precaution, it would have been impossible to have knocked out the tooth, without breaking the jaw-bone. A stick was then cut with much ceremony out of some hard wood, and when the gum of the patient was properly prepared, the smallest end of the stick was applied to the top of the tooth, while the operator stood ready with a large stone, as though about to drive the tooth down the throat of the youth. Here a certain attention to the number three, which had been before shown, was again noticed, for no stroke was actually made, until three attempts to hit the stick had taken place; and, notwithstanding repeated blows, so firmly was the tooth of the first boy fixed in his gum, that it was full ten minutes before it was forced out. The sufferer was then removed, his gum was closed, and he was dressed out in a new style, with a girdle, in which was stuck a wooden sword, and with a bandage round his head, while his left hand was placed over his mouth, and he was not allowed to speak, nor, during that day, to eat. In this manner were all the others treated, except one only, who could not endure the pain of more than one blow with the stone, and, breaking away from his tormentors, he managed to make his escape. During the whole operation a hideous noise was kept up around the patients, with whom, generally, it seemed to be a point of honour to endure this pain without a single murmur. Having once gone through this strange ceremony, they were henceforth admitted into the company and privileges of the class of men.

And as the commencement of manhood in this way, requires no small exercise of courage and endurance of pain, so the remainder of the life of an Australian savage is usually abundant in trials calling for the like qualities, and demanding both bravery and patience. Whatever may be the particular evils of civilized society, and however some wild imaginations may be tempted by these to regard with regret or envy the enjoyments of savage life, after all it must be confessed, these enjoyments are, at best, very scanty and very uncertain, whilst the miseries attendant upon such a state are of a nature continually to try the patience and weary the spirit of him who has to endure them. Without dwelling just at present upon the natural wants and sufferings to which savage men are perpetually exposed in the wilderness of Australia, it is deplorable to think of how many evils these thinly-scattered tribes are the cause to each other; enormous and sad is the amount of suffering, which, even in those lonely and unfrequented regions, human beings are constantly bringing upon their brethren or neighbours. War, which seems almost a necessary evil, an unavoidable scourge to man's fallen race, in all ages and in every country, wears its most deadly aspect, and shows its fiercest spirit among the petty tribes, and in the personal encounters of savages like those of whom we are treating. Various causes of misunderstanding will, of course, arise among them from time to time, and every trifling quarrel is continued and inflamed by their amazing and persevering efforts to revenge themselves, which appears to be with them considered a matter of duty. The shedding of blood is always followed by punishment, and only those who are jee-dyte, or unconnected with the family of the guilty person, can consider themselves in safety from this evil spirit of revenge. Little children of seven or eight years old, if, while playing, they hear that some murder has taken place, can in a moment tell whether or not they are jee-dyte, and even at this tender age, take their measures accordingly. An example of this unsparing visitation of offences occurred not long after the settlement of New South Wales had commenced. A native had been murdered, and his widow, being obliged to revenge his death, chanced to meet with a little girl distantly related to the murderer, upon whom she instantly poured forth her fury, beating her cruelly about the head with a club and pointed stone, until at length she caused the child's death. When this was mentioned before the other natives, they appeared to look upon it as a right and necessary act, nor was the woman punished by the child's relatives, possibly because it was looked upon as a just requital.

When a native has received any injury, whether real or fancied, he is very apt to work himself up into a tremendous passion, and for this purpose certain war-songs, especially if they are chanted by women, seem amazingly powerful. Indeed, it is stated, on good authority, that four or five mischievously-inclined old women can soon stir up forty or fifty men to any deed of blood, by means of their chants, which are accompanied by tears and groans, until the men are excited into a perfect state of frenzy. The men also have their war-songs, which they sing as they walk rapidly backwards and forwards, quivering their spears, in order to work themselves up into a passion. The following very common one may serve for a specimen, both of the manner and matter of this rude, yet, to them, soul-stirring poetry:—

Yu-do dauna, Spear his forehead, Nan-do dauna, Spear his breast, Myeree dauna, Spear his liver, Goor-doo dauna, Spear his heart, Boon-gal-la dauna, Spear his loins, Gonog-o dauna, Spear his shoulder, Dow-al dauna, Spear his thigh, Nar-ra dauna, Spear his ribs, &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. &c.

And thus it is that a native, when he feels afraid, sings himself into courage, or, if he is already in a bold mood, he heaps fuel upon the flame of his anger, and adds strength to his fury. The deadly feeling of hatred and revenge extends itself to their public, as well as to their private, quarrels, and sometimes shows itself in a very fierce and unexpected manner. In the valley of the Wollombi, between Sydney and Hunter's River, some years ago, three boys of a certain tribe had been persuaded to reside in the families of three of the British settlers there. These were marked out for vengeance by the natives belonging to a tribe in a state of warfare with them, about 100 of whom travelled between 20 and 30 miles during one night—a thing almost unheard of among the natives—and reached the neighbourhood of the settlers on the Wollombi very early on the ensuing morning. Two or three of them were sent to each of the houses to entice the boys out, but these, it appeared, somewhat suspected the intentions of their enemies. However, they were at length persuaded to join the native dance, when suddenly a circle was formed round them, and they were speedily beaten to death with waddies or clubs. Immediately after which deed, the troop of natives returned back again to their own neighbourhood. A European happened to pass by, just as the boys were dying, but being alone and unarmed, his interference might have been dangerous to himself, without proving of any the slightest advantage to the unfortunate sufferers.

Another instance of that cowardly cruelty, which will take every possible advantage of a helpless age and sex occurred many years before this, when the colony of New South Wales was quite in its infancy. The father and mother of a little native girl, aged about seven years, had belonged to a party by whom many robberies had been committed on the banks of the river Hawkesbury, but an armed troop of Europeans was sent in pursuit of these robbers, and when a meeting took place, the child's parents were among those that fell, while she accompanied the victorious party to the British settlement. Here she behaved herself with propriety, being a well-disposed child, she was a favourite at Government-house, where she resided under the protection of the governor. This circumstance, and the fact of her belonging to a different tribe from their own, awakened the jealousy of some of the natives, who belonged to the neighbourhood of Sydney, and she was consequently put to death in the most cruel manner. Her body was found in the woods, speared in several places, and with both the arms cut off. The murderers of the poor child escaped.

But, while we justly condemn and pity the cruel and cowardly acts of this description, which, unhappily, too often figure among the deeds of the natives of the Australian Bush, we are by no means to suppose them wanting in all feeling of kindness and humanity, still less would it be correct to consider them deficient in true courage. Every allowance ought to be made for the disadvantages of savage life, for the complete ignorance of these people, for the difficulty which they frequently have in procuring necessary food, and for the consequent cheapness in which life is held among them; and when these and other like arguments are duly weighed, we may learn not to abominate less the crimes of savages, but to pity more the unhappy beings who commit them. Indeed, if we go somewhat further, we may take shame to ourselves and to all civilized nations, in many of whose practices a counterpart may be found for the worst sins of the uncultivated, uncivilized heathens.

Within the last few years many crimes have been recorded in our newspapers, which, though committed in those large English towns, by some conceived to be centres of civilization, refinement, and enlightenment, might rival in horror and atrocity the very darkest deeds of savages.

Many proofs that the disposition of the native Australians is naturally brave and courageous (however cowardly some of their barbarities may appear,) could easily be brought forward; but none can be a stronger proof of this than the coolness and self-possession which they have so frequently exhibited upon meeting with Europeans, and encountering their fire-arms for the first time. An example of this occurred in Western Australia, when Captain Grey's party were on their return home towards the British settlement of Perth. They were winding their way along on the summit of a limestone hill not very far from the coast, which formed a terrace about half a mile in width, with rich grass and beautiful clumps of trees to adorn it; and while, on the side towards the land, another terrace arose exactly like it, on the opposite side they overlooked a bay surrounded by verdant and extensive flats. Their enjoyment of the lovely scenery of this spot was soon disturbed by the appearance of a large body of the natives on the high ground to the east of them; and, although these strangers boldly advanced to within 200 yards of them, all endeavours to bring about an amicable meeting proved in vain, for the savages shouted to their companions, and these again to others yet more remote, until the calls were lost in the distance, while fresh parties of natives came trooping in from all directions. The question was, how to get rid of these people without bloodshed; and when an attempt to move quietly forward had been disappointed, by the Australians hastening on to occupy a thick piece of bush, through which the English party must pass, at last, Captain Grey, advancing towards them with his gun cocked and pointed, drove them a little before him, after which, to complete their dispersion, he intended to fire over their heads. But, to his mortification and their delight, the gun missed fire, upon which the natives, taking fresh courage, turned round to make faces at him and to imitate the snapping of the gun. The second barrel was then fired over their heads, at which they were alarmed, and made a rapid retreat, halting, however, upon a rising ground about 300 yards off, and preparing in earnest for action, when they perceived that they had suffered no loss. But since they had thus learned to despise the weapons of European warfare, prompt action was needful to prevent fatal consequences on both sides. The captain, accordingly, took his rifle from the man who was carrying it, and directing it at a heap of closely-matted dead bushes, about two or three yards from the main body of the enemy, he drove the ball right through it; the dry rotten boughs crackled and flew in all directions, and the poor savages, confounded at this new and unfair mode of fighting, hastily dispersed, without any loss of life having been sustained by either party.[40]

[40] A less serious but even more effectual method of dispersing the natives, when they became troublesome, and would not quit the settlers' camp at night, is mentioned by Mitchell. At a given signal, one of the Englishmen suddenly sallied forth wearing a gilt mask, and holding in his hand a blue light with which he fired a rocket. Two men concealed bellowed hideously through speaking-trumpets, while all the others shouted and discharged their fire-arms into the air. The man in the mask marched solemnly towards the astonished natives, who were seen through the gloom but for an instant, as they made their escape and disappeared for ever.—MITCHELL'S Expeditions, vol. ii. p. 290.

On another occasion, not long after this encounter, and in the same neighbourhood, the party of English explorers fell in with a native carrying his spear and a handful of fish; he was lost in thought, and they were close to him before he saw them, but, when he did so, he took no notice of them. Without even quickening his pace, he continued in his own course, which crossed their path, and, as he evidently wished to avoid all communication, the men were ordered to take no notice of him, and so they passed one another. He must have been a very brave fellow, observes the captain, to act thus coolly, when an array so strange to him met his eye. In like manner, when Major Mitchell was riding upon the banks of the Gwydir, he fell in with a tall native, covered with pipe-clay, who, although he could never have seen a horse before, nevertheless, put himself in a posture of defiance, and did not retreat, until the traveller galloped at him to prevent his attack.

In a different part of New Holland, on the eastern coast, when Flinders was exploring Pumice-stone River, near Moreton Bay, he was by no means successful in striking the natives with awe and astonishment. A hawk having presented itself to view, he thought this afforded a good opportunity of showing his new friends, the inhabitants of the Bush, a specimen of the effect and certainty of his fire-arms. He made them understand what he intended, and they were so far alarmed as to seem to be on the point of running into the woods, but a plan of detaining them was discovered, for the seamen placed themselves in front of the savages, forming a kind of defence; in which situation they anxiously watched the British officer, while he fired at the bird. What must have been his feelings at the moment!—the hawk, uninjured, flew away![41]

[41] On a similar occasion, near the Darling, where the inhabitants are remarkable for their thievish habits, when a crow was shot, in order to scare them by its sudden death, the only result was, that, before the bird had reached the ground, one of them rushed forward at the top of his speed to seize it!—See MITCHELL'S Expeditions, vol. i. p. 265.

It is, certainly, no easy task to awaken in the soul of the completely savage man any great interest or concern in the ways and habits of civilized life. The fallen nature, of which all mankind are common partakers, renders it, unfortunately, easy to copy what is evil; and, accordingly, the drunkenness, the deceitfulness, and general licentiousness of depraved Europeans find many admirers and imitators among the simple children of the Australian wilderness; but when anything good, or decent, or even merely useful, is to be taught them, then do they appear dull and inapt scholars indeed. Living, as they do, in a peculiar world, as it were, of their own, they feel little or no pleasure at hearing of what is going on elsewhere, and it has been observed by one who had mixed very much with their various tribes, and had gained considerable knowledge of their language, that, while they cared not for stories respecting man in his civilized state, anything at all bearing upon savage life was eagerly listened to and well received. Once, having described to them some circumstances respecting England and its inhabitants, the traveller took occasion, from the mention of the length of days there in summer, to speak of those lands near the North Pole, where, in summer, the sun never sets, while it never rises for some weeks during the winter. The natives agreed that this must be another sun, and not the one seen by them; but, when the conversation turned upon the people of those northern regions, and the small Laplander, clothed in skins of the seal, instead of the kangaroo, was described to them, they were exceedingly delighted; and this picture of half-savage life, so different from their own, threw quite into the shade all the other stories they had heard. It is, indeed, really laughable to find with what cool contempt some of these natives, who have never had any intercourse with Europeans, treat our comforts, our tastes, and pursuits. We may contemn and pity them, but they seem to have very much the same feelings for us. We are horrified at the greediness with which they devour grubs, and many of them are shocked at our oyster-eating propensities! A remarkable instance of this occurred to Captain Flinders in 1798, when he was exploring the eastern coast of New Holland, and surveying Two-fold Bay. While measuring a base line upon the beach, the English sailors heard the screams of three native women, who took up their children and ran off in great alarm. Soon after this a man made his appearance, armed only with a waddie, or wooden scimetar, but approaching them apparently with careless confidence. The explorers made much of him, and gave him some biscuit; in return for which he presented them with a piece of gristly fat, probably of whale. This was tasted by Captain Flinders, but he was forced to watch for an opportunity of getting rid of it while the eyes of the donor were not upon him. But the savage himself was, curiously enough, doing precisely the same thing with the biscuit, the taste of which was, perhaps, no more agreeable to him than that of the whale to the Englishman. The commencement of the trigonometrical operations necessary for surveying the bay was beheld by the Australian with indifference, if not with contempt; and he quitted the strangers, apparently satisfied that from people who could thus seriously occupy themselves there was no great danger to be feared.

But, whatever may be urged respecting the variety of tastes and the want of a settled and uniform standard of appeal respecting them; however it may be argued the rich and luscious fat of a noble whale may intrinsically surpass the lean and mouldy flavour of dry sea-biscuit; nevertheless, in many other matters of greater importance, it must be confessed that the manners and habits of the natives of the Bush are extremely wretched and evil. And the Christian European, while he dares not despise them, cannot do otherwise than pity them. The fact has been already noticed, that these miserable children of nature scarcely ever wear anything deserving of the name of clothing; and, in many parts of New Holland, their huts, usually constructed by the women, and composed of little better materials than bark, or wood, and boughs,[42] reeds, or clay, scarcely merit the title of human habitations. But it is not so much in their outward state, as in their moral and social habits, that this race of men are most pitiable and degraded. One subject which has been frequently observed to mark the difference not so much between civilized and uncivilized men, as that between Christians and heathens, must especially be noticed. Cruel as is the treatment of women in many other parts of the globe, the inhabitants of Australia seem to go beyond all other barbarians in this respect. From the best and wisest people of christian Europe down to the vilest and most degraded tribes of heathen Australia, a regular scale might be formed of the general mode of behaviour to the weaker sex among these various nations; and, mostly, it would be found that the general superiority or inferiority of each nation is not untruly indicated by the kindness or cruelty with which their females are usually treated.