We determined to follow the chain of lakes eastward, so long as our provisions should last, or as long as our horses could find food for themselves. We proceeded east for six days, passing numberless lakes, and observing that the chain divided, one branch of lakes running north-east, and the other due east. We followed the latter until we came to a lake called Dambeling, by far the largest we had seen, being about fifteen miles long by seven or eight wide, with a good sheep country on its northern bank, and a river, which we called the Lefroy, falling into its eastern end. The river was about thirty yards wide, with a clayey bed, and large fresh-water pools, and flowed from the east, through the worst country we had seen, it being an apparently endless desert, and level to the horizon. We went one day's journey into this inhospitable country, but the want of food for our horses, and our own unprepared state, prevented us from penetrating farther. On our return, we went for two or three days north, on the outskirts of the desert, before we turned westward on our way back to York.

The only land we crossed in this expedition was situated on the head of the Hotham and Williams. The area of this country is undoubtedly very great, but its average character is below the York district, although it is well adapted for sheep-grazing.

But the most interesting feature is the barren and desolate country to the east of Lake Dambeling, doubtless a continuation of the same sterile country seen by Mr. Roe, the surveyor-General, east of York many years previously; and probably from Mr. Eyre's observation, extending quite down to the southern coast. We had no means of ascertaining the width of this dreary country, but we did not think it could be impassably wide because the river Lefroy appeared to come across it. This river, in a geographical point of view, may be important, as the character of its bed, without trees, more water-worn than the other rivers of the colony, its size, and the direction from which it comes, render it exceedingly interesting to determine how it is supplied. The sandy nature of the country on its banks, and for many miles east, and the flatness of the country, preclude the idea that it receives its supply of water from the immediately surrounding district. It must either be supplied by a country of a far better character to the eastward, or it is the outlet of another and larger lake far in the interior. From the natives we could learn nothing but that there were no kangaroos, no opossums, and no water to the east; but as their knowledge never extends 100 miles, and they would tell any lie to avoid going where they had no inclination to go, their opinions are worthless. It might be worth the while of the colony to send forth another expedition to determine the boundaries of this desolate country, as it is not improbable that a practicable rout might be discovered to South Australia by means of the river and lakes.

The outlet of the lakes is into the river Beaufort, and possibly also into the Gordon. There is no doubt that in exceedingly wet seasons the whole valley is one continuous stream, when all the lakes would be united and present a truly magnificent appearance; but as the area of evaporation is so large, and the banks of many of the lakes are high, the quantity of rain must be enormous before the valley becomes filled with a running river. Lake Barbering, where the valley divides, has a steep shore, with three distinct marks of former water-levels. All the lakes have two or more shores, showing either a decrease of rain or an elevation of the land itself, probably both. Between the present and ancient shores there is a belt of swamp-oaks and tea-trees, which show that some length of time has elapsed since the water left its old levels.

The water to fill these large reservoirs must come down the river Lefroy, as the neighbouring country is too sandy to supply it in sufficient quantities.

No question in geography has presented a wider field for conjecture than the much-debated one of the nature of the interior of Australia. Is it desert, or water, or pasture? inhabited, or destitute alike of animal and vegetable life? The explorations of Captain Sturt, and the journey of Mr. Eyre, would incline us to believe that the country is one vast sterile waste; but the journey of the latter is worth nothing as an attempt to expose the nature of the interior, since he never left the coast. It certainly shows how much suffering the human frame can endure; and whilst, as illustrative of Australian geography, it is valueless, it is highly creditable to the energies of the traveller.

The expedition of Captain Sturt has shown that to the north of South Australia the country is chiefly desert, totally incapable of supporting animal life: while the geological specimens of that traveller prove that the rich mineral strata of South Australia extend far beyond the pastoral boundaries of the colony. A reference to the journey of Mr. Lefroy and myself, from York to the south-east, will show that there exists a low level country running far beyond our farthest eastern point, which may afford abundance of water and pasture for any future expedition proceeding in that direction.

An expedition starting from these lakes in the BEGINNING OF WINTER, so as to take advantage of the first supplies of water, might advance far enough into the interior to discover at least the possibility of proceeding before the succeeding summer would render it impossible to return; for the lakes alone would not be sufficient to ensure a supply of good drinkable water during the summer, as they generally become quite salt long before summer is over. It would be necessary to find a good deep water-hole for the party to remain at during the dry season, and from which they could push out small lateral expeditions as a sort of foundation for the next season's main advance. Expeditions in Australia require great circumspection. It is not the most rapid traveller who will get the farthest, but the most prudent and cautious. I consider it quite possible to get across the island, either to South Australia or to Port Essington. Most probably it would be easier to get to the latter than the former.

From observations made on the rains and winds in Western Australia, and careful inquiries on the same subjects when I was in South Australia, and on a comparison of the two, I am inclined to believe that the climates of the two colonies assimilate. A wet winter in one is a wet winter in the other. Both receive their rains when the wind blows from the north-west to south-west. Thus the rains from South Australia pass from the Indian Ocean over Western Australia, and the whole island, to South Australia. The hot wind of Western Australia blows from the north-east; and, in fact, the hot wind of both colonies comes from the same portion of the great island. That which is the hot wind in summer in Western Australia is the cold wind in winter; and the same in South Australia. The reason is obvious. It is evident, from the fact that South Australia receives its rain from the Indian Ocean, that there are no mountains in the interior of sufficient elevation to intercept the clouds; that there are no mountains in the interior, is shown also by the absence of rivers emptying themselves into the ocean. From the observation of Mr. Lefroy and myself, we were led to suppose that the interior consisted for the most part of immense clay plains; the lower portion of these plains being hollowed into the large shallow lakes we meet with in our journey. Where the country is a little more elevated the plains are sand instead of clay. In winter these plains are covered with water, as the drifted leaves on the bushes testify; and the marks of water on the surface are very evident. Now, when the winter winds pass over these immense masses of water, the great evaporation renders them intensely cold; and they arrive in the colony laden, (if I may so unphilosophically express it,) with cold, caused by rapid evaporation. In summer these very plains are equally the cause of the hot wind; for when the rains cease, and the sun acquires his summer power, the water is quickly evaporated, the clay becomes baked, and the heat is reflected from the hard heated surface quite sufficiently to raise a thermometer to 110 degrees in the shade. The wind is now driven towards the colony laden with heat from the cracked, baked, clay-plains in the interior; and thus it is, that at different seasons the same country produces such opposite effects. But although the general state of the interior is barren and unproductive, as I imagine, I do not suppose that it is entirely so. I believe there are many cases of good pasture land in the midst of this sterile country; fertile spots, small when compared with the vast area of indifferent country around them, but large in themselves. And these pastoral oases are more cultivated than the worthless land amid which they are placed. In these patches of good land there are always water-holes to be found, and water-courses well marked, conducting the surplus waters to the lakes in the clay plains. That there are such fertile spots in the Australian deserts is certain, for I have seen many of them myself, and they are mentioned also by the South Australian travellers. The similarity in most respects of vegetation in Western Australia and in South Australia, and the identity of many plants, proves also a country of good quality lying between the two colonies; by which such plants were conveyed from one country to the other. Thus, the so called white-gum is the same tree in both colonies; the mungat, or raspberry-jam tree, is common to both; and also to the plains of New England, in New South Wales, where (I understand) it acquires a larger size than in Western Australia. The manch is another tree also common to the two colonies; so is the black-wattle. The grasses are many of them alike. But this similarity is not confined only to the vegetable kingdom. The birds and animals are many of them also alike. The white and the black cockatoo are common to the three colonies, as are many kinds of the smaller parrots, the kangaroo, and the kangaroo-rat, the numbat, the opossum, the native cat, and many others. And this is not only true of animals of great locomotion, or birds of long flight, as the pigeon or cockatoo, but equally so of the opossum, the quail, and the wild-turkey. The quail and the turkey are birds chiefly found in grassy lands, and neither fly to any great distance: at least the quail never does; the turkey will when much disturbed, but not otherwise. Also the water animals, as the tortoise, are to be found in both colonies; but not the platypus, which is confined to the country east of the great river Murrumbidgee and its tributary the Darling.

The natives are also alike in feature and habits, evidently the same race, with language similar in character, in both countries, with similar weapons and methods of procuring food; having also similar customs and laws.

Now, I infer from these facts, that the population, animal as well as vegetable, proceeded from one country to the other; and that many forms of vegetation in the two colonies possess no greater difference, than the difference of soil and latitude may account for; and that it may therefore be possible for men to find a route from one country to the other, by carefully noting and following the lay of the water-courses, the direction of the oases, and the nature of the geology of the country; for that no impenetrable desert exists between the countries, is evident from the passage of vegetables and animals from the one to the other. What will be the benefit, some one may ask, when such a route is discovered? Why, independent of the knowledge gained to geography, there will be the great practical good of opening the boundless pastures of Western Australia to the flocks of the already overstocked lands of the other colonies. To Western Australia the gain would be great; and to South Australia it would be equally advantageous, as it would maintain the value of stock there, which will rapidly fall when no more land can be found fit for occupation. Even with all the rapid increase of population which the great mineral abundance of that colony will continue to create, sheep will multiply faster than the population, until they become of the same low value as in New South Wales, where, if there be no run sold with them, they are not worth more than the value of the wool on their backs.

It is therefore most desirable that attempts should be made to find a stock route from the western to the eastern coasts.

Intra-tropical Australia is more abundantly supplied with rivers, and of a larger magnitude, than any out of the tropics, the Murray alone excepted; and doubtless a journey across the island within the tropic would present fewer difficulties than one direct from Perth to Sydney, or Adelaide; but, excepting for the advancement of geographical knowledge, there is no object to be gained by such a journey. The best way is along the valley of the lakes, guided as the party proceeds, by the nature of the country.

I earnestly hope that an expedition will be sent to make some effort to penetrate the great extent of an unknown country, lying east of Western Australia, as it is an object well worth the attention of the Government, or of the Geographical Society.

The geology of Western Australia is not very interesting, as the country is entirely of primary formation to the east of the Darling range of hills: the granite every where crowning the summit of the hills, and the immense plains consisting entirely of granitic sand, or of hard clay containing nodules of primary rocks. This formation, which does not in Western Australia consist of the stratified primary series, as in South Australia, cannot be expected to yield the abundant mineral riches that the strata of South Australia exhibit. Probably gold may be met with, and copper and lead may be found in the Koikunenup Range, which is not entirely a granitic range, but is, I believe, capped with clay slate. The level country lying between the Darling hills and the sea is of a much more recent formation; but has not been sufficiently examined to determine its age precisely, though I imagine it will be found to belong to the pliocene tertiary formations. Certainly it contains many shells of species now living in the neighbouring ocean; and the limestone ridge running parallel with and close to the coast, and which in the colony is falsely called magnesian limestone, contains a great proportion of modern shells. The country lying between the hills and the sea contains many beds of lignite; one of which, at Nornalup, on the south coast, is more than two feet thick, and shows itself on the face of the cliff on the north shore of the estuary. Following the line of coast in any part of Australia, the geologist cannot fail to be much struck by the evident marks of a gradual elevation of the land; he will every where see the marks of the sea on the cliffs, at a considerable height above its present level. At Cape Chatham, on the south coast, these sea-marks are visible 300 feet above the present level of the ocean; and can be seen on the face of the rocks, in the hills at some distance from the coast. On my journey to Nornalup, I discovered a lake containing shells in abundance, which appeared to me, and were also considered by the late Dr. Hinds (Surgeon, Royal Navy) a skilful conchologist, to be a littoral species, common to the shores of various parts of the globe. These shells, of no interest in themselves, become excessively interesting as evidence of a connexion once existing between this lake and the ocean, from which it is now at least forty miles distant. This lake is not more than 100 feet above the present level of the ocean, and entirely separated from any other lake or river. How, therefore, could these marine shell-fish be living in a salt lake, unless they had continued to exist there from the period when it was a portion of the ocean itself? That many generations of them had lived and died in this spot, was quite certain, from the abundance of dead shells on the shores of this very interesting lake. Nor is the evidence of elevation confined to the coast; all the lakes seen by Mr. Lefroy and myself have ancient shores much higher than the present waters ever reach. The same evidence of elevation is to be seen in the harbour of Sydney, and in Spencer's Gulf, in South Australia. At the head of the latter the shingle and rolled-stones clearly show that the gulf has formerly run much farther inland: probably to Lake Torrens, the superfluous waters of which are now discharged into the head of the gulf. The whole plain of the Murrumbidgee has been, at not a very distant date, beneath the ocean; as the Madrepores, and other fossils in the limestone cliffs of the river testify. Earthquakes have been felt in South Australia since its settlement. A very intelligent gentleman there told me that he had noted eleven since his arrival; quite perceptible enough to leave no doubt as to their character. Probably the country was elevated at each shock, in a slight degree; and perhaps before the volcano of Mount Gambier became extinct the elevatory movements were more rapid. Be that as it may, I am quite convinced that they are going on at this moment; and it would be well to make marks on the cliffs in various parts of the coast, at the present sea-level, in order to determine, after the lapse of years, the rate of elevation.



CHAPTER 24.

COLONIAL GOVERNMENT.

We have already observed that a vast deal of discontent prevails in colonies. With all the natural advantages of a fruitful soil and a heavenly climate, colonists are always dissatisfied with their position; because, in a pecuniary point of view, they are always poor. And why are they so? The answer is a startling one. The excess of their abundance is the first cause of their poverty; the instability of their government, the second. They possess more than they can dispose of, and are borne down by the weight of their possessions. Place the markets of England and the labour of Ireland within their reach, and they would become millionaires were they to cease to be colonists; but so long as they continue to be colonists, governed by a Power altogether distinct from that which rules over Englishmen in their native land, they will continue to be helpless, oppressed, and poverty-stricken.

They alone, among British subjects, are living under an absolute Monarchy; the caprices of which render property insecure and of uncertain value; neutralizing industry, paralyzing enterprise, and crushing with fatal authority the energies and the spirits of the people.

In the absolute recklessness of colonial rule, no sooner does private enterprise raise its head, and throw out the first feelers on the way to wealth, than a watchful government steps forward, and careful only to secure gain to itself, crushes out (in the first feebleness of existence,) the germ of vitality.

In all new countries in which the sources of wealth are imperfectly developed, the expense of applying the means necessary to their development is so enormous, as to leave but small profit to the speculator. Labour is always dear in new countries, where there is so large an outlet afforded to the labourer to escape from the toils of servitude, and become himself an occupant or an owner of the soil. All that he gains by the exchange is an ideal independence; which is, unhappily, but too attractive to the uneasy spirit of modern improvement.

The prosperity of a colony is the aggregate of individual wealth. the prosperous advance of the colonist, is, therefore, the first duty of a superintending Government. But the first aim of that watchful guardian is ever to wring from the settler as much as may be extracted by pressure. The lowest demand for land, which would be dear at half-a-crown an acre, is eight times that amount. No sooner does the settler, by his science or industry, discover some lucrative opening, than government steps in with its restrictions, its taxes and duties, and at once cuts down the budding promise. If the design be to bring to light the mineral wealth of the country, royalties are immediately imposed; and no chance of profit is left to the speculator when the rents are raised according to the probabilities of success. It is the same with all other speculations; no one will embark, even in a timber-trade, when he knows that he is placing his capital at the mercy of a grasping and short-sighted Government.

How much more lucrative, and how much more statesman-like would it prove, were our rulers to display as much good policy as the peasants of Norfolk, who do not pluck their geese until they be well feathered! Colonists, like cabbages, should be allowed to acquire the necessary strength, and attain the proper dimensions, before they be seriously operated upon. You might then cut and nick them with reasonable hope of their sprouting forth anew.

But the worst evil of an absolute Government arises from the destruction in the minds of the people of all faith and confidence in its truth and honour.

One Secretary of State countermands the edicts of his predecessor; and as the Executive Government of a colony is composed of the paid servants of the Crown, and is merely the machine of the Secretary for the time being, the ordinances which it promulgates are distinguished by only one uniform feature — the announcement of broken promises and betrayed faith.

The inhabitants of colonies, disappointed and deceived, have no trust in their rulers, and dare not invest their capital in enterprises which may be ruined in a moment by an arbitrary edict. At one period, for instance, they may have been induced, upon the faith of the Government, to purchase remission tickets, which entitle the owner to a certain quantity of land wherever he may choose to select it. A succeeding Government confines this right of selection within certain narrow limits; whilst another decides that the holder shall be allowed to purchase with these tickets only land that is entirely valueless. At one period men are encouraged to attempt the production of colonial spirits; but no sooner is a large amount of capital expended, than it is made illegal to distil. Some parties are permitted to purchase land at a distance from the capital: and after years of toil and expense are deprived of all protection from the Government, and allowed no compensation for its withdrawal.

But it were vain to attempt to enumerate the acts of broken faith on the part of an absolute Government, from whose decree there is no appeal, and from whose oppression no redress. The moral evil to colonies is crushing and fatal.

The best informed among English statesmen know nothing of colonies: but their hardihood in legislating for them is, unhappily, equal to their ignorance. It was only last year (1846) that the bill for the government of Western Australia was (according to newspaper report) opposed in the House of Lords by a noble duke, on the ground, as his grace alleged in an animated and interesting speech, of the wretchedly immoral state of the colony, arising from the system of transportation, which so deluged the country with convicts that it was now a perfect hell upon earth! A noble lord, then Under-secretary for the Colonies, apologised, with the best grace he could assume, for this lamentable state of things, and assured the noble duke that the Government was quite aware of the evil, and was turning its attention to a remedy for it. Had any one of the noble lords present known anything at all about the subject of the debate, he might in a few words have relieved the anxiety of the Government, by informing it that Western Australia is not, and never has been, a penal settlement — that convicts are not sent thither for punishment; that even a single bush-ranger has never been known within the territory; and that, in the words of an Adelaide journal, "it is as free from stain as any of the rural districts of England."

Another Australian colony (that of Port Phillip) calls for the attention of Government more imperatively, perhaps, than any other of these settlements. At present an appendage to Sydney, but situated at a most inconvenient distance from that capital, it is compelled to remit thither between fifty and one hundred thousand pounds annually for rates, taxes, and duties, not a tithe of which ever finds its way back again. It is deprived of roads, bridges, and all public works of importance, solely because it is friendless at home, voiceless and unrepresented. Might Englishmen be made to feel that interest in colonies which in general they are ever ready to accord to the unfortunate, they would glow with indignation at the wrongs, the injustice, and the oppression under which the inhabitants of distant settlements bend in silence. "If you don't keep your colonies in a state of dependence," are the memorable words of Lord Stanley, in May, 1846, "of what use are they?" Such has ever been the narrow-minded and unstatesman-like policy of the British Government. And yet even the infant colonies of the empire, though fettered, cramped, and swathed like the young progeny of the Esquimaux, are useful still to the Mother Country. They afford the best market for her produce; and when freed from the pressure of their bonds, like plants released from the torturing confinement of their earthenware prison, and allowed to extend their roots abroad in the free soil of Nature, they will display new strength and viridity, and bring forth fruit in increased abundance. Her Majesty's present Secretary of State for the Colonies (Earl Grey) entered upon his office with truly liberal and right-minded views, which, we trust, will be carried out into operation wherever found necessary and practicable. "There can be no doubt," said his Lordship in the House of Lords, shortly before taking office, "that in our colonial empire we have the advantage of possessing warm friends and allies in all quarters of the world, who, commanding great natural resources, are united in heart and soul to defend our trade and our interests, and to take part with us in all contests against our enemies. We have garrisons of the cheapest kind in every quarter of the universe. On the other hand, the colonies have this inestimable advantage — they have the glory and security to be derived from an intimate connexion with the greatest, the most civilized, and the most powerful nation on the face of the earth. They have the glory — and they feel it to be a glory — of calling themselves British subjects, and feeling that in defence of their interests and best rights, the power and might of this country are ready at any moment to be called forth and exercised in their behalf. This is a substantial advantage of the most important kind to the colonies; and they are fully sensible of it. And if with this we pursue a liberal policy, and extend to them the dearest privilege of Englishmen — THE PRIVILEGE OF SELF-GOVERNMENT, AND DO NOT VEXATIOUSLY INTERMEDDLE WITH THEIR INTERNAL AFFAIRS; in short, if we pursue a liberal policy towards them, both commercially and politically, we shall bind them to us with chains which no power on earth may break, and the connexion between the parent state and those great dependencies may continue until they far exceed us in population."

These are generous sentiments and profound truths, and they have shed the bright beams of Hope over that vast colonial empire to which they refer.

In legislating for colonies, let it not be forgotten that one of the chief drawbacks to their prosperity is the want of confidence in the stability and permanency of existing regulations. There can be no success, and there can be no safety, whilst those regulations and laws are liable to the influence of peculiar views or individual caprice. It is the people themselves, for whose government the laws are intended, who should be allowed to impose, to modify, or to expunge them.

The predominating evil in colonies is THE WANT OF CONFIDENCE AND FAITH IN THE GOVERNMENT.



CHAPTER 25.

ONE OF THE ERRORS OF GOVERNMENT — ADVENTURE OF THE BRAMBLE.

It has ever been considered one of the first principles of good government, that a frequent and ready communication and intercourse should be maintained between the ruling power and the possessions subject to its authority. The first act of Roman sway was ever to lay down good lines of road through the conquered country; and nothing has tended so much to maintain the authority of the United States over the Red Indians of America, as the formation of roads through the wilderness. The rulers of Great Britain entertain the opinion that when they have once seized upon a distant country, and thrown into it a handful of troops and a few of their importunate friends, with the title of government officers, they have done all that is required of them. They wait with resignation for any account that may be brought of the progress of the new colony, by some wandering merchant-vessel. Despatches, frequently dated twelve months previously, during which time they have been making the tour of all the oceans at present known upon the globe, are brought to Downing Street; and are then thrown aside, or at least are never attended to, probably because they are too old to be deemed interesting. No matter how pressing and immediate the wants of the colony, chance alone affords the opportunity of making their necessities known at home. Letters and despatches accumulate in the Post-office; no vessel arrives bringing intelligence from England, or offering to take away a mail: the Colonial Secretary, having exhausted every official resource in the way of mental occupation, looks out at the window, and meditates upon quail-shooting. His Excellency the Governor, questions the possibility of adding another despatch to the hundred and fifty already composed in illustration of the art of making despatches, as Soyer makes soup, out of nothing; and oppressed by the subject, becomes dormant in his chair of state; the clerks in the neighbouring offices no longer exhibit the uplifted countenance which, as justly observed by Sallust, distinguishes man from all other creatures; nothing is to be seen of them but masses of hair in wild profusion, and right hands extended on the table, still mechanically grasping steel-pens, whilst every face lies flattened upon a paper-case, and sleep and silence, broken only by sighs and snores, reign throughout the building. Universal stagnation prevails among government people; and merchants and store-keepers appear to be much in the same condition. The only person in office who is kept in a constant state of fever, is the unhappy Post-Master-General, who is hourly called upon to state when he is going to make up a mail for England. In vain he apologises for the non-arrival of ships; there is something radically wrong in his department, for which he is expected to answer; and dark denunciations are muttered in his ear, until worn out with anxiety and nervousness, he loses his appetite, and gradually withers away, like grass in the oven.

And when at length a vessel arrives accidentally from Van Diemen's Land, or perhaps from America, the Master at first demurs about taking a mail, under the idea that it may convey letters giving information of the state of markets that he desires should be known only to himself and his employers; but finally consents; and then, having received the mail on board, carries it about with him from port to port, until at the conclusion of a long voyage, having occasion to empty his vessel in order to smoke out the rats, he discovers the forgotten boxes, and conscientiously sends them ashore.

But if it be vexatious and inconvenient to have only this uncertain means of despatching our letters to England, how much more annoying is it to have no regular and stated time for receiving them from home! What could be more painful than to have to wait twelve months before you can receive an answer to an inquiry; and what more destructive to the interests of commerce? How many fluctuations are there in the state of the markets during those twelve months!

It is one of the greatest of evils to have no regular post-office communication between the Mother Country and her colonies, and the interests of trade in both greatly suffer by it.

Much has been said lately of establishing steam communication with Sydney. A committee of Sydney merchants has been appointed in London to consider the subject, and the restless and indefatigable Lieut. Waghorn has written a pamphlet showing how it may be done, provided the Government will contribute 100,000 pounds per annum towards the project. He proposes that a branch line of steamers shall be established, to proceed from Sincapore by the north of New Holland, touching at Port Essington, and through Torres Straits to Sydney, and probably on to Van Dieman's Land. But why follow such a route as this, through the most dangerous channel in the world, where even steamers would have to lie-to at night (as the Lieutenant admits), and where light-houses would have to be erected and kept up at an extravagant cost? Why take such a route, which presents not a single place to call at, except Port Essington, a miserable spot, intended only as a kind of refuge for shipwrecked mariners, possessing no commercial or agricultural inhabitants, and only enjoying the advantages and the society of a Governor, a handful of soldiers, and three white women? Why insist upon expending so much public money, and encountering so many dangers, without conferring a single additional benefit upon the Australian colonies, when the route by the south of New Holland is so obvious, so practicable, and so superior? The projectors talk of making Port Essington a depot for coal; but why not make this depot in Western Australia? During the summer months, from 1st October to 1st April, the steamers might touch at Fremantle; and during the winter months, at Port Gladstone, fifteen miles to the southward, affording a sheltered harbour where ships may ride securely within one hundred yards of the shore. Coal mines will probably soon be at work in the colony, vast beds of that mineral having been discovered, thus offering every inducement to steam-vessels to touch here. Nor could anything be more advantageous, considering the great interests that England now has at stake in these seas, than to form a general depot in this colony, where her Majesty's steamers and ships-of-war might refit on occasion. As there is no other spot in all New Holland, Van Dieman's Land, or New Zealand, where first-rate ship-timber may be obtained, and where IRON, COAL, and COPPER, are also procurable in abundance, this colony offers advantages for the formation of a Government Dock-yard and depot (at Port Gladstone), that must be acknowledged by every unprejudiced person.

Objections may be raised to doubling Cape Lewin during the winter season; but let the steamers stand well out to sea, and there would be no difficulty. The time lost would not exceed that spent in lying-to in Torres Straits during the night. Our colonial schooner, the Champion, goes round Cape Lewin at all seasons.

We would propose that the mail steamers, instead of branching off from Sincapore, as proposed by Lieut. Waghorn, should depart from Point de Galle, Ceylon, make direct for Swan River, there take in coal, and pass on to Adelaide, South Australia, and thence to Van Dieman's Land, where they might put the Melbourne and Sydney mails on board of the steamer already plying between Van Dieman's Land and those places. By this route the Sydney people would receive their letters quite as soon as though their interests alone had been consulted, according to the desire of the disinterested committee before alluded to; whilst Van Dieman's Land would gain a few days, and South Australia and Western Australia would be allowed to share in the general advantage, from which they would otherwise be entirely excluded.

But the Government and the public would also be gainers by the route which we suggest. It would be much cheaper to them, because it would be much more profitable to the company that carried it out. The colony of South Australia is now a populous country, and becomes more so every year; but the Steam Company would carry no passengers and no goods for South Australia (perhaps not even for Van Dieman's Land), if the route to Sydney were to be by Port Essington and Torres Straits. The two colonies of South and Western Australia deriving no benefit from such a course, could give no support to the company. Government hitherto has resisted the efforts of the Sydney merchants, and refused to sanction the proposal of Mr. Waghorn, but chiefly upon the ground of expense. And there is no doubt that Ministers would be guilty of a gross misdemeanour, were they to consent to apply 100,000 pounds per annum of the public money in furtherance of a scheme designed for the exclusive benefit of a single colony. It is the duty of Government to see that any sum which may be granted shall be so applied as to confer the most extensive benefit upon all the Australian colonies. That measures ought to be immediately taken to ensure a regular communication between the home country and every one of her colonies is a matter of no doubt to us. The want of this has long appeared to be one of the grand errors of colonial legislation. Let us hope that the day is not far distant when this crying evil shall be remedied. Now that steam navigation has come so generally into use, there is no valid reason why it should not be made the means of uniting together, as it were, the different outposts of the empire, drawing them more closely towards their parent country as to a common centre. It is full time that a greater appearance of sympathy were exhibited at home for those distant settlements which have now become the principal markets for British produce, and which, therefore, deserve something more at the hand of Government than what they have so long been accustomed to find — alternate periods of tyranny and neglect.

By far the greater portion of English merchant-ships are engaged in trading to the colonies; our manufactures there find their principal mart; our surplus population is there cheaply provided with maintenance and a home. These are the grounds on which the colonies lay claim to the fostering care of the Mother Country, and we trust the days are at hand that will see it afforded.

The first step must be to ensure a regular and frequent intercourse between the countries, without which there can be no real protection; without which there is no sufficient encouragement given to trade; and the parent state can therefore reap but little advantage, comparatively, from a colony whose powers are only imperfectly developed.

Since the above remarks were written, accounts have reached England of the arrival at Fremantle of her Majesty's surveying vessel Bramble, Commander Lieutenant Yule, after passing some time in Torres Straits and on the coast of New Guinea.

Mr. Yule having kindly placed the notes of his voyage at the disposal of a friend in the colony, they were partially published in one of the local journals in the month of January last. The portion relating to Torres Straits is instructive. The Bramble sailed from Port Jackson about the end of December 1845, in company with the Castlereagh tender, Lieut. Aird, Commander. Touching at Moreton Bay, Mr. Yule visited his old acquaintance, Captain Wickham, R.N., late in command of H.M.S. Beagle, and now a settler on the Brisbane. In the words of the journal referred to, "the Bramble proceeded slowly to the northward, being much delayed by the bad sailing of the tender." The voyage presents nothing worthy of notice, until the arrival of the ships in Torres Straits, when it is impossible to help being struck with the commentary which Mr. Yule unconsciously affords upon the "perfect safety" of that passage, now so much vaunted by the advocates of the northern route. While the Bramble and Castlereagh were lying off Sir Charles Hardy's Islands, the latter being deficient in ballast, Mr. Aird was despatched with the boats to look for the "wreck" of the Maid of Athens and the "wreck" of the Martha Ridgway, with the view of procuring some; and having failed in discovering the former, and therefore in procuring a sufficient supply, he was again sent to the "wreck" of the Sir Archibald Campbell for the same purpose. So much for Torres Straits!

Mr. Yule strongly recommends Cairncross Island as the best station for obtaining wood and water for vessels navigating the straits, there being abundance of both easily procurable, and even large timber, if required. On this island they shot four megapodii, and observed many of their nests, some of which Mr. Yule describes as being twelve feet high, and upwards of fifty feet in circumference.

On Friday, the 10th April they made the coast of New Guinea, which presented a low and thickly-wooded coast-line, backed by mountains of magnificent height and beauty; the country being apparently very rich, with many villages, embowered in cocoa-nut trees, scattered along the shore. While coasting along, in search of a convenient place to land, they encountered a native vessel of most extraordinary size and character, which we will allow Mr. Yule to describe in his own words: —

"At daybreak, as the sun was rising, I was very much struck with the grandeur of some very distant mountains in a south-eastern direction — one in particular, the outline of whose summit was only visible above the intervening clouds; immense ranges of mountains were also distinctly visible this side of it, extending in a N.W. and S.E. direction. It is seldom the rising sun has disclosed to my sight so splendid a view as then presented itself; but in a few minutes, when the sun's disk appeared, the beautiful scene vanished, leaving only inferior cloud-topped mountains visible, together with the rich and undulating foreground. We shortly afterwards saw the strange sail seen last night. Although she was much nearer, she proved more unaccountable than before. As there was not sufficient wind to enable us to weigh, I resolved to send Mr. Pollard in the second gig to take a nearer view of this extraordinary vessel. I watched the boat until Mr. Pollard must have gone nearly five miles from us, when the boat's sails appeared a mere speck when close to the wonderful stranger. On this officer's return, he informed me he had approached within bow-shot of the vessel, which proved to be a gigantic double canoe, which he conceives must have measured fifty or sixty feet long, kept apart and together by a platform from fifteen to twenty feet broad, which extended nearly the whole length of the canoes, the after-end being square with the sterns of the boats; six or eight feet of this was left clear for the three steersmen, who guided the vessel with three long paddles over the stern. With the exception of this part of the platform, the whole was covered by a strong, well-built house, made of cane, the roof being flat, and about five or six feet above the platform. This roof answered the purpose of an upper deck, affording the crew the means of conveniently walking on it. This extraordinary craft was propelled by two large mat sails, each spread between two bamboo masts, the heels of which were fixed in the same step, the mastheads being spread (athwartships) from twenty to thirty feet asunder, the sail being triangular between these bamboo masts, which were supported by diagonal shores fore and aft on either side; besides these two large sails, the canoe had numerous smaller (square) ones suspended from the principal masts; there was also a small square sail forward. The whole of the spars and rigging was ornamented with a sort of flags and streamers. Mr. Pollard thinks that he saw about forty or fifty people on the roof, several of whom were in the act of stringing their bows; except this precaution on the part of the strangers, there was no demonstration of hostility. After taking a good view of this most extraordinary canoe, Mr. Pollard returned; and she ultimately was wafted out of sight. Whence she came, or where bound, still remains to me a problem.

"At noon I obtained the latitude, which was 8 degrees 3 minutes S.; longitude, by chronometer, 145 degrees 28 minutes E.

"In the afternoon the Castlereagh was visited by two small canoes, with eight men, who had come off from a village we discovered abreast of us. The natives brought off a few cocoa-nuts and some bows and arrows, which they readily bartered for such trifles as were given in exchange."

The lofty mountain which so much excited Mr. Yule's admiration, was named by him Mount Victoria, and between it and the shore were several ranges of inferior altitude, which gave him "every reason to believe that the lower regions were well watered and fertile."

Having fixed upon a favourable spot for commencing his triangulation behind a promontory which served to conceal them from the view of a native village which they saw at no great distance, Mr. Yule went ashore in the first gig with five seamen and one marine, accompanied by Mr. Sweetman, in the second gig, with three seamen and two marines, all well armed, and proceeded to hoist the Union Jack and take possession of the place in the name of her Majesty Queen Victoria. Having successfully performed this duty, and obtained the observations he required, Mr. Yule thought it high time to return on board; but the surf had in the meantime increased so heavily, that in the attempt the second gig was swamped, and every thing in her, including the arms, lost, except the quintant and chronometer, the boat herself being with difficulty saved by being towed outside the surf by the other gig. The rest of the adventure we shall give in Mr. Yule's own words: —

"At this time I observed the Castlereagh about two miles beyond Cape Possession, under sail; I therefore made signs to Mr. Wright, in the first gig, to tow the second gig towards the Castlereagh, which I concluded would attract Mr. Aird's attention. In this I was not mistaken, as the Castlereagh was immediately anchored about a mile and a half off, and her boats sent to the relief of ours. In the interim I determined that every thing which was washed on shore should be collected together, after which we all huddled close under a bush near the beech, whence we could see our boats and be hid from the view of the natives as much as possible. The Castlereagh's boats having at length closed with the Bramble's, the second gig was soon baled out, when all four boats pulled up abreast of us outside of the surf, which had continued to increase; the Castlereagh at the same time weighed, which I confess alarmed me much, as I knew very few persons could be left on board after she had dispatched two boats' crews; I therefore concluded we were discovered by the natives beyond Cape Possession. I was in a few moments confirmed in my fears by seeing Mr. Andrews prepare to push his boat through the surf. I waved him back, when he energetically pointed towards Cape Possession. I fully understood his signs (that natives were coming), but still waved him off, as I knew his gallant attempt to relieve us would fail, and that he and his boat's crew would be added to those already in distress on shore; he, however, pushed through the surf, when, as I expected, this boat was upset, and all his arms, ammunition, etc. lost. At the same moment we observed crowds of natives coming round the point of Cape Possession, armed with spears, clubs, and stone axes. Our arms and ammunition had been all lost or destroyed; our situation was therefore most defenceless, and, I may say, our retreat hopeless; those boats at the back being unable to afford us the least relief. I then thought it best to show no signs of fear or mistrust, but to make friends with the natives, and amuse them, until the next tide should enable a boat to back through the surf. In the interim, Mr. Andrews, with his four men, and assisted by some others, made three attempts to launch his boat, which failed, and she was ultimately dashed in pieces against the rocks. I advanced alone with playful gestures, waving a branch of green leaves, in token of peace. One man pointed a spear at me, but the others stared at me with more wonder depicted on their countenances than ferocity. I then offered them some bits of tobacco, which they would not approach near enough to take from my hands. This shyness, unfortunately, did not continue long; for when the main body came up, amounting to eighty or ninety men, armed, they became troublesome, and laid their hands on everything they could get hold of that was lying on the beach. To these robberies I attempted to put a stop, and made them some presents instead; but the savages must have known our helpless condition, and became every moment more daring and rapacious; and, to add to our tribulation, we observed two large canoes, each containing thirty or forty men, come round Possession Point, and heave to between the Castlereagh and the boats, as if with the intention of cutting off the latter. The Castlereagh could not unfortunately take advantage of her guns by firing grape or canister, as we were completely intermixed with the natives. At this critical stage of our anxiety, the second gig, at all hazards, was veered through the surf, and, to our great joy, four or five men were drawn off in safety. A second attempt was made, and succeeded. Then came the awful moment for us who waited for the last trip; for only a few moments before, I baulked a native when taking a deliberate aim at one of our last men who embarked. The natives now, seeing our numbers decrease, laid hands on us in the most violent manner. My quintant was first wrested from my coxswain, who in a tone of grief made me known the circumstance. I immediately turned round and exclaimed 'Oh! don't part with that'; but it was too late; and when I endeavoured to recover it, I found a club wielded over my head. In making my escape from this wretch I was secured by four others, who first took the government micronometer, which was slung round my neck. I then endeavoured to struggle out of their clutches, and escape with the pocket chronometer and note-book, but these, AS WELL AS EVERY ARTICLE OF CLOTHING I HAD ABOUT MY BODY, were stripped off; when the second gig was opportunely again backed in, and in this forlorn state Mr. Pollard, the two marines, and I, waded off, and were dragged into the boat. We then went on board the Castlereagh, which was at anchor about a mile from the shore; the canoes slowly made off to the north-westward, after we had embarked. The boats having been hoisted up and secured, we got the anchor up and proceeded out to the Bramble, and anchored close to her at 6h. 30m. p.m. I immediately afterwards returned to the Bramble, truly thankful for our having escaped with our lives. The loss of instruments grieved me exceedingly, particularly as the nature of the coast rendered it next to impossible to effect a safe landing to attempt their recovery. From the account I heard of the ferocity of the natives where the Fly had been surveying last year on this coast, I confess I fully expected death would be my fate in a few minutes, and thought of the similar position poor Captain Skying was in when murdered at Cape Roso. If we had been possessed of six or eight muskets and plenty of ammunition, I think the natives might easily have been checked, but being defenceless, my only hope was to dissemble my fears and amuse them, to give us time until we could effect our escape. These people varied in complexion from black to a light copper colour; they appeared well made and active; all of them were ornamented, but some much more so than others; their ear-rings were made of rings of tortoiseshell, a number of them being fastened together, and suspended to the lower parts of the ears, in which are holes stretched so large as to admit a man's thumb being passed through them; the cartilage dividing the nostrils is perforated in like manner."

This adventure of our old friends of the Bramble appears to me sufficiently interesting to excuse my having wandered through Torres Straits in order to record it.



CHAPTER 26.

SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERIES. — KANGAROO HUNTING. — EMUS. — LOST IN THE BUSH.

There can be no doubt as to the truth of the axiom that "facts are stubborn things." Right or wrong, they seem to persist in a resolution to force conviction upon a man however reluctant he may be.

Sturdy facts are never wanting in support of erroneous views; and more false conclusions are drawn from them than from the subtlest arguments of the sophist.

When your theory is once confirmed by a fact, the question is considered decided, and no further argument is admissible. I had two theories not long ago, the pursuit and investigation of which gave me a good deal of pleasure; they were built upon facts, and therefore they were indisputable.

My first theory was upon the amount of evaporation at Perth during the summer months.

The excessive dryness of the atmosphere proved that the evaporation at the end of the rainy, or winter season, must be very great indeed. My friend, Mr. H., had an hygrometer, which he kept in a small room adjoining that in which he usually sat; and this hygrometer afforded the ground-work for our theories. It proved most satisfactorily that the evaporation exceeded every thing of the kind known in any other part of the globe. It was clear that our atmosphere was drier than that of a brick-kiln when burning its best. But the great beauty and novelty of the theory was, that the evaporation was greater at night than in the day time.

This certainly puzzled us a good deal at first; but when once you are sure of your facts, it is astonishing how soon you come to mould your theory so as to make it perfectly agree with them, and manage to reconcile yourself to the most startling contradictions. After satisfying himself of the truth of the fact — that the evaporation was really greater by night than by day — Mr. H. proceeded to prove philosophically that nothing could be more reasonable than such a circumstance. From all that I could make out of his arguments, which were extremely logical and ingenious, it seemed clear that as every thing in this country is diametrically opposite to every thing in the old country, it was perfectly consistent with the regulations of nature in Australia, that evaporation should be greater at night than during the day time. Moreover, he placed great reliance upon the attraction of the moon.

For my part, seeing that facts were on his side, I embraced his views with ardour; and went about as an apostle, proclaiming the new tidings far and wide. It was one of those astonishing truths in science that come suddenly and unexpectedly upon mankind — like those connected with electricity — that take the reason captive, and are beyond the reach of human investigation. Men usually appeared incredulous when the theory was first broached to them; but when convinced of the fact, as proved indisputably by the hygrometer, they were compelled to acknowledge the truth, and forthwith looked upon it as a matter of course.

As the weather grew warmer — when the thermometer stood daily at about 86 degrees in a cool room — the nocturnal evaporation increased. At length it grew to such a pitch, that the tube of the hygrometer containing the water was exhausted in a couple of nights. Notwithstanding the astonishment of Mr. H., he was enraptured at the triumphant confirmation of his theory. He devoted every moment he could spare from public duties, to the compilation of a learned and voluminous treatise upon the subject. He looked upon himself as destined to be considered one of the master-philosophers of the age, the promulgator of a new and wondrous theory, based not only upon sound argument, but upon long observation and indisputable facts. When any one ventured to raise a doubt, he would smile with that ineffable sweetness which distinguishes a man conscious of his superior knowledge and sources of information. I, his enthusiastic adherent, picked up the crumbs of instruction that fell from his table; and dealt forth mysterious hints of the scientific errors about to be corrected by the observations and treatises of Mr. H., who was now generally known to have forwarded an account of his discoveries to some of the learned Societies of London; and the English papers were perused with avidity, in the hope of finding that due honour had been paid to his merits.

As he walked along the streets he was looked upon with additional reverence. He had raised the renown of Western Australia, and was now considered to be at once its decus et tutamen. The idlers who congregated in small knots about luncheon-time at the corners of the streets, began to talk of a statue in the market-place.

Suddenly, however, the philosopher secluded himself from the vulgar gaze. The public wondered, and then became alarmed. The philosopher had taken to his bed. After some days I was admitted to his presence, and found him greatly enfeebled for want of rest. It was evident there was something that weighed upon his mind. After many ineffectual efforts, many sighs and some blushes, he faltered forth a confession that he feared our theory, (he seemed now, for the first time, kindly solicitous to share the merit of the discovery,) of evaporation being greater at night than in the day-time, was not well founded. An electric shock, shivering the funny-bones of both elbows, could not have startled me more. What did he mean? He continued, that one night whilst engaged upon a new hygrometrical treatise, he had sat up till a very late hour; the door of the room which contained the instrument was open, and the light from his lamp fell directly upon it. Absorbed in profound speculations, his eye occasionally rested upon the little instrument which stood upon a table. There it was — the pillar of his fame. It seemed to dilate in dimensions until it rivalled the column in the Place Vendome, and on the top of it was a figure, less sturdy than that of Napoleon. Suddenly his vision was broken, and his thoughts were recalled from the future to the present, by seeing a living object move along the table, and quietly approach the foot of his column. Appalled and paralyzed, he sat immovable whilst he beheld an actual mouse, unrestrained by any scientific considerations, place its profane snout in the bowl of the hygrometer, and drink deliberately until its thirst was satisfied. It then retired, and other mice soon came trotting along the table and did the same.

Mr. H. is a man of great self-control. He did not tear his remaining locks, or commit any other rash act, but with all the calmness of despair he set fire to the unfinished treatise, and saw it consumed; then he retired to bed, a desolate individual, and rose not again for several days.

My next theory was entirely my own. I claimed all the merit of it, and felt the utmost pangs of jealousy when any one ventured to assert that HE had long ago suspected it. Built upon a solid foundation of facts, I maintained an opinion entirely at variance with that of Professor Owen and certain Parisian professors, and satisfied myself, at least, that the young of the kangaroo, and of other marsupial animals, is produced, not in the usual way, but from the teat of the dam. And although this theory is, and must be erroneous, I can even yet scarcely bring myself to believe it so — with such fidelity do we cling to error. There are many men in the colony who have been for years in the constant, almost daily, habit of killing kangaroos, and they have consequently had opportunities of observing the young ones in every stage of development. Females have been killed with young ones hanging to the nipple, about half an inch long — the form not fully developed, a mere foetus, presenting no appearance of active vitality. The nipple to which it is attached is not merely placed in the mouth of the foetus, but extends into its stomach, where it serves the purposes of the umbilical cord in other animals, whilst the lips grow round it, so that it cannot be removed without rupturing the skin. A little older, and it becomes evidently possessed of vitality — a quickened foetus. The pouch of the doe is closed up until the birth of the young one; and gradually enlarges to accommodate the inhabitant.

There are other marsupial animals, of the size of rabbits, that are found with eight or ten young ones, or rather small foetuses, similarly attached to the nipples of the parent.

Now I could not conceive how creatures with long sharp claws, though provided with flexible wrists or joints, should be able to take up the newly produced little lump of inanimate flesh, and thrust a long, soft, yielding nipple down into the depths of the stomach. I collected a number of FACTS to prove the contrary — but the question is now considered to be set at rest by the observations of French naturalists, and therefore I have quietly strangled my theory, but am still occasionally haunted by its ghost.

I may mention here that male kangaroos are sometimes found provided with pouches; but these, I conceive, are lusus Naturae.

This allusion to kangaroos (being good for nothing else) may serve as an introduction to a hunting excursion. A party of us started from Perth, equipped in the manner already described in the chapter upon Wild Cattle.

We rode to the Canning to breakfast, at the house of the ——s, where we found the table ready spread with coffee, grilled fowls, eggs, ham, etc. The room was a good one, having French windows, looking out upon park-like scenery, among which the Canning River pursued its lazy course. There was also a piano belonging to the sister of our hosts, then absent on a visit. One of her brothers informed us that he had availed himself of her absence to abstract sundry of the wires from the piano in order to make bell-wires, which he thought was turning the piano to good account.

After breakfast we loaded our bullock-cart with our goods, and left it in charge of a servant whom we appointed to meet us at a certain spot where we were to bivouac for the night. The only disagreeable part of travelling in Australia is the scarcity of water, except at the end of winter, when all the gullies are filled. Unless, therefore, the ground be well known, it is always advisable to take a native, who can inform you where the pools or springs are situated. Four of us set out, well mounted, and attended by a native on foot, and five kangaroo dogs. These dogs are descended from a cross between a bloodhound and a greyhound, and combine strength, fleetness, scent, and sight. As it was the middle of winter (late in June) the air was cool and pleasant, and the sun bright and joyous, as he always is here. We were all in high spirits, anticipating excellent sport, as the country to which we were going abounds with game of great variety — kangaroos, emus, quail, and turkeys, or bustards. A rough coarse scrub, interspersed with small quantities of grass, overspread the sandy soil. The only animal we saw for some time was an opossum, which the native discovered in a tree and climbed up for. I examined its pouch, but there was no young one within it. At length we caught a glimpse of a kangaroo hopping along at a distance, and we galloped off in full chase, but he was too far ahead for the dogs to make anything of it; so we lost him. Disconcerted and vexed we drew together again after a short run, but had scarcely done so before we emerged upon an open prairie, where on our right we beheld three kangaroos hopping away at a gentle pace. the kangaroo uses only his hind legs in running. The leg presses the ground from the hock to the toes, and its strong sinews enable the animal to bound forward with immense leaps; the heavy tail vibrating behind keeps him steady. Four of the dogs rushed after the game, followed by all the horsemen, at full gallop, hallooing and shouting vociferously. A more animated sight could scarcely be conceived; three graceful kangaroos bounding away in a line, with four large greyhounds laying well after them, and the hunters chiveying along, and dashing through brushwood and thickets like whirlwinds. The kangaroos, however, fairly beat us; they gained a thick wood, dashed through it and into a swamp beyond, and there we lost sight of them. We all returned to the side of the wood, and waited for the dogs, who came back with hanging heads and drooping tail, completely blown. All returned but one — the oldest and most sagacious of them. He had not gone with the four which followed the heels of the kangaroos, but had made a short cut to the left, so that he was in the wood almost as soon as the kangaroos, whilst the other dogs were still a long way behind. We waited patiently for old Tip (of whom honourable mention has been made before); his master, Tom H., asserting confidently that he had killed. At length as we were standing talking together, we suddenly perceived Tip among us. His master examined his mouth, and declared he had killed; then saying, "Show, Tip, show!" the dog turned round, and trotted off before us; and going into the swamp took us to the spot where the kangaroo lay dead.

It is not all kangaroo dogs that can be taught to show game, and those that do so are therefore highly prized. It is a very pleasing sight to observe how proud a dog is of this accomplishment. He will come quietly back to his master, and oftentimes lay himself down as if he were afraid the other dogs should suspect he had got something to tell, and would run off in search of it. And when his master gives the signal, he deliberately proceeds to lead the way, snarling at the other dogs whenever they run before him, and seem likely to arrive first at the spot. Sometimes he tries to deceive them by going in a wrong direction, and when the others have started off, full of eagerness, as if they themselves (the senseless fools!) were inviting people to follow, and were anxious to show them the game, the old dog will rapidly turn aside, evidently laughing in his sleeve, and dash forward to the spot where he left the carcase. There you will find him standing over it; and as you ride up he will give a faint wag of his tail, as though he were glad that you are pleased with him, and yet he cannot help feeling that he is not properly rewarded. His gaunt ribs and melancholy eye speak of his hungry stomach; he seems to remember that he receives from his rough master more kicks than caresses, but still he does his duty, and will do so to the last; and denies himself even a mouthful of the prey, which but for him, would lie undiscovered in the thicket. I used to know an old show-dog who displayed so much thought and sagacity, that I never was in his company without feeling for him a certain degree of respect. Whenever struck by brutes of lower order than himself, he did not howl or display his teeth, but slunk aside with a look of deep sorrow and reproach.

In the evening we bivouacked near a small pool of water, where the cart joined us, according to previous arrangement. The horses were tethered out and fed; a good fire was kindled, and with kangaroo steaks, cold fowls and ham, and brandy and water, we managed to make a tolerable supper. A fence against the wind was constructed of upright sticks, and leaves of the black-boy (Xanthorea, or grass-tree) resembling rushes, only brittle; and with a good fire at our feet we were exceedingly warm and comfortable. The wild dogs uttered their doleful, wailing cries around our camp during the night, and caused our own frequently to sally forth and give them chase.

We had kangaroo curry for breakfast next morning; and having fed our horses, and sounded to saddle, set out again in pursuit of game.

Proceeding across some plains, interspersed with swamps and thickets, we soon perceived a herd of about a dozen kangaroos feeding and hopping about. Keeping a covert in line before us, we tried to get near them, but they soon made off, bounding away like a herd of deer, which they much resemble at a distance. The dogs started after them at full speed; and with loud halloos and bounding hearts the horsemen spurred their steeds, and scoured along the plain. There are, unfortunately, no fences in this country, but there are a thousand worse obstructions — fallen trees, thick clumps of black-boys extending right across the plain, and therefore not to be avoided; woods through which the game dashes at speed, and where you must follow at the risk of striking head or limbs against the trunks or branches of trees, or else you will be thrown out. Then of course you don't like to be last, and you don't like to allow the gallant captain, who is spurring at your side, the opportunity of bragging at mess that he alone kept near the dogs, which you know he would be delighted to do. So, determined to ride against the captain at any rate, you keep your horse and yourself well together, and flinch at nothing; dashing through thickets, tearing over rough ground, steering between trees, ducking your head under boughs, and twitching up first one leg and then the other to save them from being smashed against black-boys or banksias. You clear the wood, and emerge again upon a plain; the kangaroos are bounding along, some three hundred yards in advance, the dogs lying well up to them; and now the latter have fixed upon one of the herd, whom they pursue with resolute fierceness. The others escape into friendly thickets, but the doomed one, an old buck, some six feet in height when resting on his haunches, still holds out, though his enemies are fast gaining upon him.

At length, finding escape impossible, he makes for a broad mahogany tree, where he suddenly comes to bay. The dogs hesitate to rush in upon him, his eye gleams with such deadly ferocity, whilst he sits erect upon his haunches, ready to dart the long claw of his hind leg into the first assailant who comes within reach.

A kangaroo in this position is no despicable enemy. He has great power in his limbs; and if he happens to strike a dog with his claw, he inflicts a grievous wound, and sometimes tears out his entrails, and kills him on the spot. He rushes at men with the same fury, and tries to clasp them with his fore-paws whilst he strikes at them with his hind-legs. I rode up to the animal in question, dismounted, and struck him a rap on the head with a broken bough, as he rushed towards me with a fierce hissing noise. As he staggered at the blow, the dogs darted upon him and quickly despatched him.

We had several other good runs before luncheon, and then baited our horses, and allowed them to rest for two or three hours. Whilst riding towards our bivouac in the afternoon, a native who was walking at my side, and who had accompanied us all day, stopped suddenly, and, pointing with his finger, said, "Emu!" About a mile distant across the prairie were two of those large birds quietly feeding. The dogs were immediately called together, fresh vigour seemed to animate the whole party, and we proceeded to give chase in high spirits. Emus are sometimes shot with the rifle, but the usual mode of obtaining them is by hunting them with kangaroo dogs. If you happen to come near enough to them without raising alarm, they may frequently be detained, and even attracted almost up to your stirrup by WHISTLING. I have known this to be repeatedly tried with success. When you begin to whistle, the emu lifts up its head and listens with attention; soon, delighted with the sound, he walks leisurely in the direction from which it comes; then, perceiving a human being, he pauses, seems irresolute, and finally walks round and round you in circles gradually lessening, until he approaches within a few yards. If his confidence be not repaid with a bullet, he will, after gratifying his curiosity by a good stare, quietly walk away through his native woods. Emus are frequently speared by the natives, who, by taking care to stand stock-still the moment the creature lifts up its head, manage to approach within a few yards of them while feeding. Though the savage may have his hand raised in the act of throwing the spear, he remains fixed in that attitude whilst the emu takes a survey of him. Perceiving only an object without motion, the bird takes him for a tree, and continues to graze, falling a victim, like other innocent things, to a misplaced confidence in its own security.



The emus ran fast, and gave us a long chase; but at length the headmost dog caught hold of the extended flapper of one of the birds, and arrested its progress; the others, coming up, soon pulled him to the ground, and by the time we reached the spot he was dead. The feathers from the tail were distributed among the party, and placed in our caps; and the legs being cut off, the rest of the bird was abandoned. The legs alone afford any meat, which is by no means a delicacy, and resembles coarse beef. Whilst the process of cutting up was going on, my attention was attracted to the movements of old Tip, who had stolen away from the party, and was now, ventre a terre, scouring along the edge of a belt of trees about a quarter of a mile from us. His master in vain tried to recall him, and I set off to see what he was about. Following him through the wood, I perceived him at the other side in hot pursuit of half-a-dozen kangaroos, that were bounding away some hundred yards ahead of him. It was in vain to attempt to recall him, so I foolishly followed the chase, though it was leading far away from the direction I wanted to take. Old Tip held on unflaggingly, as though this were his first run that day; and for nearly two miles we dashed along through woods and across prairies, until I began to wish myself back with my friends. At length we lost the game in a vast swamp, covered with thick underwood, in which my horse floundered for some time in a fearful manner. Thinking it worse to return than to push through, we struggled on, in momentary danger of sinking for ever, and after great exertions got upon solid ground again. When dismounted, to rest the horse, who panted and trembled with the efforts he had made, I called for Tip till the woods rang again, but all in vain. At last I saw a single kangaroo, a fresh one of immense size, break cover, with Tip about forty yards in his rear. In the ardour of the chase, all prudential considerations were given to the winds; and cheering on the gallant hound, I followed the game more determinedly than ever. And what a race that villain kangaroo led us! — through thickets where my hunting-shirt was torn into strips, my arms and legs covered with bruises, and my face lacerated with boughs that were not to be avoided. The villain doubled like a hare, and led us in such various directions, that I fancied we must have turned upon our steps and gone past the spot where I had parted from my friends. Unless a man be very well accustomed to the bush, he is certain to lose himself in a few minutes. One clump of trees is so like another — the thick swamps, the open plains, all bear such a general resemblance to one another, that you feel quite confounded whilst trying to recollect whether you have really seen them before, and can form some tolerable guess as to your position. The kangaroo was now approaching the foot of the long, even, uninteresting range of the Darling Hills; his pace was slow, he made his leaps with difficulty, and would soon have been caught, had not poor Tip been equally dead beat.

It was evident the old dog could scarcely drag himself along, but still he refused to give in. My horse, exhausted with floundering in the swamp, was completely knocked up; and for some time I had only been able to push him along at a jog-trot. Still I was no more willing to give up the chase than old Tip. It seemed to have become a point of honour that I should not desert the hound; and moreover, feeling myself completely lost, I did not like to part from my companion; and, above all, it would never do to let the kangaroo escape after all the trouble he had given us. So we all three continued to work along as best we could.

At last my poor horse happened to set his foot in an empty water-hole, and too weak to recover himself, came down on his shoulder and side with great violence. I threw myself off as he fell, but could not save my foot from being crushed beneath the saddle, and so both horse and man lay extended on the ground. I could just see the hound and kangaroo still struggling onward, and almost close together. The horse made no attempt to rise, and I tried in vain to extricate my foot; at length I managed to flog him up, and then raised myself with difficulty. I had not suffered much damage, though bruised, and in some pain, but my poor horse had sprained his shoulder, and was completely hors de combat. On looking about for the chase, I fancied I could perceive the dog lying on a little rising ground, a few hundred yards distant; and leaving the horse, I hopped after the game. On arriving at the spot, I found the kangaroo and the dog lying side by side, both alive, but completely exhausted; the one unable to do any injury, and the other to get away. Securing the dog with my handkerchief, I sat down, waiting till he should be able to walk. In a few minutes the kangaroo lifted up his head, and looked about him; the dog sat up, panting as though his heart would burst, and took no notice of the other. The kangaroo, scrambling to its feet, hopped away a few yards, and then stood still again. "Go along, old fellow!" said I, "you have done us abundance of mischief, but it would be criminal to kill you when I cannot carry home even your tail — so farewell!" Off he jumped, and was soon lost to view, leaving us alone — three miserable cripples, far from any shelter, and (so far as I was concerned) not knowing at all how to rejoin our friends. Tip being now able to limp on three legs, and myself upon one, we returned to the unhappy steed, who remained where I had left him, hanging down his head, and looking the image of woe.

In vain I tried to determine the direction I ought to take; trees and swamps were on all sides of me, and I could not decide whether my friends were now on my right-hand or my left. I remembered that our place of rendezvous appeared to be nearly opposite an opening in the hills, some six or eight miles distant; but there were openings in the hills on each side of me, and which was the one to be sought I could not determine. I therefore resolved to retrace the foot-marks of my horse, if possible; and set out leading the animal, having Tip limping at my side, and every now and then looking up as though he felt for the ill plight in which we all appeared. It soon became evident that the horse must be left behind; and therefore removing his saddle and bridle, I placed them at the foot of a tree, and gave him his liberty.*

[footnote] *Six months afterwards he was caught among the horses of a settler on the Serpentine, perfectly sound and in excellent condition.

After going some distance, I came within view of an extensive swamp, which I fancied formed part of that I had so much difficulty in crossing. Turning to the right, I followed its course for some time, hoping to get round it, but it seemed to extend towards the hills, cutting off all farther progress. The sun was now about to set, and getting desperate, I plunged into the thicket, and tried to push through the swamp. There was no water, but the immense quantities of bind-weed, and other thickly-growing plants, quite defied every attempt, and I was obliged to turn back again. Tip and myself had now to retrace our steps. It was getting dusk, and the state of affairs looked uncomfortable. Again we tried in vain to cross the swamp, which soon afterwards receded farther from the hills, and left a broad plain before us, which we traversed in the course of half an hour.

My foot seemed to get better with exercise, but night had now set in, and it was useless to attempt making farther progress, when we could not distinguish an object thirty feet in advance. I now found myself stumbling up a rising ground covered with trees; and here I lay down, with Tip at my side, to wait as patiently as possible for morning. The dog, I imagine, had found some water in the swamp, as he did not now seem to be suffering from thirst as I was myself. He was soon asleep, and I envied him, for hours elapsed before I could find repose. The land-wind, sweeping down from the hill-side, moaned through the trees; the rising moon shed her sickly and distorting light upon the bushes around; and bruised and stiff, hungry, thirsty, and uncomfortable, I felt by no means delighted with my quarters. A fire would have been agreeable, but there were no means of procuring one. Sleep at last befriended me, and I did not wake until the sun began to shed his first rays upon the tops of the trees.

On rising I found myself exceedingly stiff, and by no means in good condition for walking, but there was no choice; and when Tip had got upon his legs, and given himself a good stretch and yawn, and licked my hand, as much as to say he had no intention of leaving me in the lurch, we started on our doubtful journey. In vain I tried to encourage the dog to lead the way; he would not stir from my side. Only once he darted after a kangaroo-rat, and caught it before it had gone twenty yards. This afforded a breakfast which I envied him. I now pushed on towards the coast, but was continually intercepted by thick swamps impossible to penetrate, and turned from the right direction. I looked about for water, and found some at length in a muddy hole. It was most refreshing, and revived my spirits, which had begun to flag considerably.

Mid-day was long past, and I was still rambling over plains of coarse grass, penetrating into woods, and struggling through swamps; worn almost to death with fatigue and hunger, and the pain of my ankle, now greatly swollen, I sat down at last at the foot of a mahogany-tree in order to gain a little rest.

I knew that the hills were behind me, and the sea must be somewhere before me, but as to my precise locality, and the distance of the nearest settler's house, I was quite at a loss. In vain I tried to satisfy myself as to whether I was much to the south of the bivouac. I was growing dizzy with hunger and weariness, and no longer felt any wonder at the confusion of mind which seizes upon those who are lost in the wilderness. During the day, I had repeatedly cooeyed as loudly as I could, in the faint hope of attracting the attention of my friends; but no voice responded.

It was now nearly five o'clock in the evening, and I had the prospect before me of spending another night in solitude, and felt some misgivings as to whether it would not be the last of my existence.

I tried to struggle on a little farther, as it was possible that I might be close to some farm on the Serpentine; but it was difficult to move along. Tip seemed to be getting tired of this slow progress; he grew fidgety, and I fancied he had formed the base resolution of leaving me to myself. Suddenly he started off upon our traces, and I was alone without a friend.

In a few minutes I heard behind me a distant shout, and immediately afterwards a loud cooey met my ear. Oh how thankfully I heard it, and answered it as loudly as I could! And then, having returned grateful acknowledgments to the Almighty for this seasonable relief, I began to walk towards the sounds, which were repeated from minute to minute. Not long afterwards I perceived a party of natives, followed by men on horseback, emerging from the trees. The latter galloped towards me, waving their hats, and shouting with friendly joy. It is due to Tip to state that he reached me first, and gave his congratulations with warm sincerity.

My friends had started at day-break with the natives, who had tracked my footsteps without once losing the trail. They had found the horse grazing near the place where I had left him, but he was too lame to be removed; the natives had fully accounted for every trace; they perceived that the dog and kangaroo had lain side by side, and that the latter had recovered first, and got away. They found and brought with them the saddle and bridle, and followed my steps to the swamp, through which they saw I had not been able to penetrate. And so they tracked me during the whole of the day, whilst I was only going farther and farther from my friends. I had wandered much more to the south than I expected; and now, mounting a horse, we all rode to a house on the Serpentine, where we were hospitably entertained, and where I continued until able to return to Perth.



CHAPTER 27.

THE COMET. — VITAL STATISTICS. — METEOROLOGY.

One evening in March, 1844, whilst standing at my gate enjoying the pleasant balmy air and the conversation of a friend, our attention was attracted to a luminous appearance in the sky immediately above the horizon. We fancied that a large ship must be on fire not a great distance from the coast.

The next evening, happening to leave the house at an early hour, my eye was immediately caught by a grant novelty in the heavens. A magnificent comet extended itself over an entire fifth of the firmament. Its tail reached to the belt of Orion, whilst its nucleus, a ball of fire resembling a star of the fourth magnitude, was scarcely a degree above the horizon. It looked like a fiery messenger rushing headlong down from the very presence of GOD, bound with dread tidings for some distant world. Beautiful, yet terrible messenger, it seemed to leave its long, fiery trace behind it in its passage through the heavens. The soul of the spectator was filled with the sense of its beauty, whilst admiration was sublimed into awe. Speaking to us strange and wonderful things of the hidden Holy of Holies which it seemed to have left, it passed on its headlong journey of billions and trillions of miles with the glad speed of a love-inspired emanation from the Most High. It left us to wonder at its transient visit, and to wish in vain for its return.*

[footnote] *This comet, having exactly the appearance I have described, was visible nearly a week, gradually disappearing in the northern heavens.

Whether it had or not any effect upon the season, I cannot say, but the ensuing six months were the most unhealthy period ever known in the colony. The natives, who were greatly alarmed by the sudden appearance of the comet, declared that it would cause many people to be mendik and die — so universal is the belief in the portentous and malign influence of these phenomena.

In general, as I have before observed, the climate is most salubrious. "The Comparative Statement of Deaths to the Population" proves the vast superiority of Western Australia in this respect, not only over Great Britain, but over neighbouring colonies. I refer to the able, interesting, and carefully-prepared Reports of G. F. Stone, Esq. the Colonial Registrar-General of Births, Marriages, and Deaths. Taking his data from the Parliamentary Reports of 1836, he deduces the following:

Comparative Statement of Deaths to the Population.

Western Australia . . . . . . . . . .1 death in 94 21/41 Van Dieman's Land . . . . . . . . . .1 " 65 161/220 Cape of Good Hope . . . . . . . . . .1 " 60 1/3 England . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1 " 46 3/5 Mauritius . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1 " 44 2/5

The opinions of medical men, published in different reports, a few of which happen now to lie before me, may prove interesting to some readers, and I therefore extract them briefly: —

J. M. Johnson, Esq. M.D. Surgeon of H.M.S. Sulphur: — "During the three years that H.M.S. Sulphur was employed on that station (Western Australia) not a single death, and very few important cases of disease occurred, notwithstanding the very great exposure of her men. When exploring the country for several days, and sometimes weeks, they have been exposed to the sun; fatigued in the evening after a day's excursion, slept in the open air, (and that repeatedly in wet weather,) and suffered no inconvenience. I have no hesitation in stating that such a life in any other climate would have been productive of the most serious sickness."

William Milligen, Esq. M.D. Surgeon 6th Dragoons: — "I have met with several individuals here, who, on leaving England, were great sufferers from dyspepsia, and diseases of the digestive organs, who have recovered their health in a wonderful degree since their arrival. Children thrive remarkably well; and I may add that every description of live stock, although collected from different countries — England, India, America, Africa, etc. — find here a congenial temperature."

Joseph Harris, Esq. Acting Government Surgeon: — "Nothing can be more delightful than the climate generally; and its invigorating influences on the human constitution, especially those of Europeans, render it more fit for invalids than any other in the world. Several persons arrived in the colony suffering from pulmonary and bronchial affections, asthma, phthisis, haemoptysis, or spitting of blood, hopeless of recovery in England, are now perfectly restored, or living in comparative health — measles and small-pox are unknown."

W. H. Sholl, Esq. Government Surgeon, pro tempore: — "From pulmonary complaints we are happily free; and even when these have gone to some length in other countries, removal to this climate has been of the highest possible benefit. Children are exempt from the diseases common to them in England; — small-pox, measles, scarlet-fever, and hooping-cough, are unknown here."

W. P. Dineley, Esq. Surgeon of Fremantle Gaol: — "We have almost a cloudless sky, a clear dry atmosphere, and a climate unsurpassed by any in the world."

Dr. Ferguson, of Australind: — "We have no fevers or epidemics here."

By the Registrar-General's Report for 1843, it appears that the births in Western Australia are about 1 to 24 83/158, which is a very high rate. Those readers who are fond of statistics will be pleased to learn the following rather curious fact: — In the year 1836, males were in respect to females, as about five to three, but during the following seven years, females increased 21 per cent. more than males; and the continued preponderance of female births promises speedily to adjust the balance of the sexes.