An expedition, most unique in its composition, now made an attempt on the west coast to penetrate inland, and also verify the existence or non-existence of the large river, still currently supposed to find its way into the sea at Dampier's Archipelago. The expedition was placed under the command of Lieutenant Grey, Mr. Lushington acting as second in command. It originated in England, and its members, with one exception, were what would locally be called "new chums." The one exception was a sailor, named Ruston, who had been with Captain King on one of his surveying voyages; an experience that, under an older leader might have made him a most serviceable man, but, otherwise, scarcely deserved the stress that Grey laid upon his acquisition. Most of the equipment was procured at the Cape of Good Hope, where a small vessel—the LYNHER—was chartered, and the landing-place in Australia was at Hanover Bay, on the extreme north-west coast, near the mouth of the Prince Regent's River; though, why this particular point was chosen, does not appear quite clear. Being becalmed a short distance from Hanover Bay, the foolish impetuosity of the young explorers very nearly put an abrupt ending to their journey. Grey, Lushington, and four men landed, and started to walk across to Hanover Bay, there to be picked up again by the LYNHER. It was December, the middle of a tropical summer, and they took with them two pints of water. They all very soon knocked up. Grey swam across an inlet to try and signal the schooner, and nearly lost his life doing so. Fortunately, the the flashes of their guns, with which they kept firing distress signals, were noticed on board, and a boat came to their rescue. This was an inauspicious beginning.

After landing the stores, the LYNHER sailed for Timor, to procure some ponies and other live stock, and on the 17th of January, 1838, she returned. At the end of January, Grey and his party started from the coast with twenty-six half-broken Timor ponies as a baggage train, and some sheep and goats. The rainy season had set in, and the stock began to die almost before they had well started, added to which, the party were entangled in steep ravines and spurs from the coast range, and their strength worn out in useless ascents and descents. On the 11th of February, they came into collision with the natives, and Grey was severely wounded.

On the leader recovering sufficiently to be lifted on one of the ponies, a fresh start was made, and on the 2nd of March they were rewarded by finding a river, which they called the Glenelg, unaware that Mitchell had already usurped the name. The adventurers followed the course of this river upward, traversing good country, well grassed and timbered, so far as their limited experience allowed them to judge. Sometimes their route was on the river's bank, and at other times by keeping to the foot of a sandstone range that ran parallel with its course, they were enabled to cut off some wearisome bends.

The party continued on the Glenelg for many days until they were checked by a large tributary coming from the north, causing them to fall back on the range, both the river and its tributary being swollen and flooded. On this range they discovered some curious paintings and drawings in the caves scattered amongst the rocks, also a head in profile cut in the face of a sandstone rock. [See Appendix.] Unable to find a pass through the mountains, which barred their western progress, and greatly weakened by his wound, Grey determined to return, but before doing so he sent Mr. Lushington some distance ahead, who, however, could find no noticeable change in the country.

The expedition, therefore retraced their footsteps, and on the 15th of April they reached Hanover Bay, and found the schooner at anchor, and H.M.S. BEAGLE lying in the neighbouring Port George the Fourth. Thus ended the first expedition; toil, danger, and hardships having been incurred for little or no purpose, the discovery of the Glenelg River being the only result obtained, and perhaps, some little experience. The party having embarked, they sailed for the Isle of France in the Mauritius, where they safely arrived.

In August, Grey visited the Swan River, and endeavoured to get assistance from Sir James Stirling, the Governor, to continue his explorations; no vessel being available, he had to wait some time before making a start, during which delay he made short excursions from Perth into the surrounding country.

On the 17th of February, 1839, he started once more in an American whaler, taking with him three whale-boats. The objects of this expedition are not very definite. The whaler was to land them and their boats at Shark's Bay, or on one of the islands: there they intended to form a depot. After examining the bay, and making such incursions inland as they found possible, they were to extend their operations to the north as long as their provisions lasted, when they would return to the depot and make their way south.

The party consisted of Grey himself, four of his former companions, a young volunteer, Mr. Frederick Smith, five other men, and a native, twelve in all. They were landed on Bernier Island, and at once their troubles commenced. The whaler sailed away taking with her, by an oversight, their whole supply of tobacco; there was no water on the island, and on the first attempt to start one of the boats was smashed up and nearly half a ton of stores lost. The next day they landed at Dorre Island, and that night both their boats were driven ashore by a violent storm.

Two or three days were occupied repairing damages, and then they made the mainland and obtained a supply of fresh water.

They landed near the mouth of a river, which, however, was dry above tidal influence, and Grey christened it the Gascoyne. After a short examination of the surrounding country, they pulled up the coast to the north, and effecting a landing one night, both boats were swamped, to the great damage of their already spoiled provisions. Here Grey ascended a hill to look upon the surrounding country, and was so deceived by the mirage, that he believed he had discovered a great lake studded with islands; in company with three of his men he started on a weary tramp after the constantly shifting vision, needless to say without reaching it. Returning to the boats they found themselves prisoners for a time, until the wind dropped and the surf abated a little, and here they had to remain for a week sick, hungry and weary, and at one time threatened and attacked by the blacks. At last a slight cessation in the gale tempted them, and they got the boats out and made for the mouth of the Gascoyne, where they refilled their water breakers. On March 20th, they made an effort to fetch their depot on Bernier Island in the teeth of the foul weather, and reached it to find that during their absence a hurricane had swept the island, and their hoarded stores were scattered to the winds.

Their position was now nearly desperate, the southerly winds had set in, they had a surf-beaten shore to coast along, and no food of any sort worth mentioning, added to which, as may be well supposed, they were all weak and exhausted.

There was nothing for it, however, but to put out to sea again, and they managed to reach Gautheaume Bay on the 31st of March; in attempting a landing, the boat Grey was in was dashed on a rock, and the other boat too received such great damage that it was impossible to repair either of them. Nothing was now left, but to walk to Perth, and so wearied had the men become of fighting with the wind and sea, that they even welcomed this hazardous prospect as a change. They were about three hundred miles from the Swan River and had twenty pounds of damaged flour, and one pound of salt pork per man, to carry them there.

Soon after starting, a diversity of opinion sprang up about the best mode of progressing. Grey wished to get over as much ground as possible while their strength held out; most of the men, however, were in favour of proceeding slowly, taking constant rests. This feeling increased so much that, when within two hundred miles of Perth, Grey found it necessary to take with him some picked men, and push on, leaving the others to follow at their leisure. He reached Perth after terrible suffering and privation, and a relief party was at once sent out, but they only found one man, who had left the others, thinking they were travelling too slow. Meanwhile, Walker, the second in charge, had come into Perth, and related that, being the strongest, he had pushed on in order to get relief sent back to the remainder. Another party, under Surveyor-General Roe, left in search, and after some trouble in tracking the erratic wanderings of the unfortunates, came upon them hopelessly gazing at a point of rocks, that stopped their march along the beach, not having sufficient strength left to climb it. They had been then three days without any water but sea water, and a revolting substitute, which they still had in their canteens. Poor young Smith, a lad of eighteen was dead. [ See Appendix.] He had lain down and died two days before they were found. He was buried in the wilderness.

During these two expeditions Grey had faced death in every shape, and shown great powers of endurance, but the results of all his toil were but meagre, and of no very great importance. He had crossed and named the rivers running into the west coast, between where he abandoned his boats and the Moore River, but in the state he was in he knew little more than the fact that they were there, having neither strength nor resources to follow them up and determine their courses. Grey claims the discovery of the Gascoyne, Murchison, Hutt, Bower, Buller, Chapman, Greenough, Irwin, Arrowsmith, and Smith Rivers. This disastrous journey may be said to have concluded his services to Australia as an explorer, although he afterwards, when Governor of South Australia, made an excursion to the south-east, but it was through comparatively stocked and well-known country in the neighbourhood of the Glenelg and Mount Gambier. Before being appointed Governor of South Australia, he was Acting Government Resident at Albany, King George's Sound.

Grey's mishaps, and the straits to which he reduced his party by his occasional want of forethought and precaution, show plainly that enthusiasm, courage, and a generous spirit of self-sacrifice are not the only requisites in an explorer, more important even, being the long training and teaching of experience.

Grey had given a very glowing description of the fertile appearance of a portion of the country he passed through, and some of the colonists were eager to make use of such a promising district. The schooner CHAMPION was therefore directed to examine the coast and see if any of the rivers had navigable entrances. Mr. Moore, after whom the Moore River was named, was on board of the vessel, but no entrance was effected, although the party rather confirmed Grey's report. Captain Stokes, of the BEAGLE, however, soon after made a thorough examination of this part of the coast, and his report was so unfavourable that its immediate settlement was postponed.

It follows now, that the unexplored country west of the Darling being so much sooner reached from Adelaide than from Sydney, the former town became the point of departure from which, in future, the expeditions for the interior started.

But the rush for country, and the constant influx of stock from the mother colony, led to a series of petty explorations being continually carried on throughout the rapidly-rising district south and east of the Murray. Some of these were undertaken in quest of new runs, others in order to find the best and shortest stock routes; and the record of most of them is only preserved in the memoirs Of personal friends of the pioneers.

Edward John Eyre, who afterwards made the celebrated journey to Western Australia round the head of the Great Bight, began his bush experiences in this way. Messrs. Hawdon, Gardiner and Bonney, also about the same time, made various trips from New South Wales to Port Phillip, and from thence to Adelaide, and many minor discoveries were the result of those journeys. The he outflow and courses of rivers being determined, and the speculations of their first discoveries corrected or confirmed; as instance of this, may be mentioned the discovery of Lake Hindmarsh, which receives the Wimmera, River, the course of which had puzzled Mitchell when he discovered it in July, 1836.

Eyre left Port Phillip for Adelaide early in 1838. The usual course had been to strike to the Murray, and then to follow that river down. He intended to try a straighter route, and for a time did well; but, at last, finding himself in a tract of dry country, across which he could not take the cattle with safety, he determined to follow the Wimmera north, thinking it would take him on to the banks of the Murray, and would probably turn out to be the Lindsay junction of Sturt. From Mitchell's furthest point he traced it some considerable distance to the north-west, and at last found its termination in a large swampy lake, which he named Lake Hindmarsh, after the first Governor of South Australia. From this lake he found no outlet; so, leaving his cattle, and taking with him two men, he made an effort to reach the Murray. But the country was covered with an almost impenetrable scrub, and as there was neither grass nor water for the horses, he was forced to turn back, reaching his camp only after a weary tramp on foot, the horses having died. According to Eyre's chart, they were within five and twenty miles of the Murray when they turned back. Eyre was thus forced to retrace his steps and make for the nearest available route to the Murray, and follow that river down.

Bonney's trip from Portland Bay to Adelaide was about a year subsequently. He pursued a more southerly and westerly course, and managed to get through in safety, but experienced great hardships on the way. One of a series of lakes or marshes was found, and named Lake Hawdon.

At the end of November, 1839, Colonel Gawler, then Governor of South Australia, made an excursion to the Murray, for the purpose of examining the country around Lake Victoria, and to the westward of the great bend. He was accompanied by Captain Sturt, then Surveyor-General of the province. In the S.A. REGISTER of that date, the following paragraph shows that by this time ladies had also taken up the task of exploration:

"His Excellency the Governor, accompanied by Miss Gawler and Captain and Mrs. Sturt, left town on Friday last week on an excursion to the Murray and the interior to the north of that river. The party is expected to be absent several weeks."

It is to be presumed that Miss Gawler and Mrs. Sturt accompanied the party but a short distance; the Murray at that date affording anything but a safe camping ground. This trip, of course, did not extend sufficiently for any important geographical discoveries to be made, but it was unfortunately marked by one of the fatalities that are bound to be a feature of exploration. Leaving the river they penetrated into waterless country, and the horses knocked up. Colonel Gawler and Mr. Bryan pushed back on the freshest animals, intending to bring back water for the others, but on the way Bryan gave in, and the Governor had to go on alone. On coming back with relief Bryan was nowhere to be found, a note was pinned to his coat, which was lying on the spot where he had been left, stating that he had gone to the south-east, much exhausted; but although all search was made he was never found.

Meantime, we have lost sight entirely of the north coast, and the attempts at settlement in that quarter. The little BEAGLE had been working industriously up there; but the account of her voyage belongs to the history of maritime discovery, where it will be found; however, on this occasion she visited a newly-formed, or rather twice-formed, settlement, Port Essington. This station, after the visit by Captain Bremer, was, it will be remembered, abandoned. In 1838, its former founder, now Sir Gordon Bremer, resettled it, and the nucleus of a township was formed. This time it seemed, at first, more likely to thrive; but very little was done in the way of exploration, and its existence added nothing to our knowledge of the northern interior. From a letter of one of the officers of the Beagle we learn that:—

"A good substantial mole, overlooked by a small battery, with some respectable-sized houses in the rear, gives the settlement rather an imposing appearance from the water, which I imagine is the object at present aimed at—to make an impression on the visiting Malays, the success of the colony depending so much on them."

Apparently the dependence of the colony was misplaced as it is scarcely necessary to tell the reader that it has long since passed out of existence; we shall, however, have occasion to revisit it once before its final abandonment.

The time had now come for the completion of the work commenced by Hume and Hovell sixteen years before, namely, the full exploration of the south-east corner of Australia.

In 1840, McMillan, the manager of a station near the Snowy Mountains, the property of Messrs. Buckler and M'Allister, started on a search for country in company with two companions, Messrs. Cameron and Mathew, one stockman and a blackfellow. Making their way through the Snowy Mountains to the southward, they found a river running through fine grazing country, plains and forest, until its course brought them to a large lake; here they were forced to turn westward, and although they made several attempts to reach the coast they did not succeed, having continually to turn back to the range to ford the numerous rivers they kept coming to.

Having only a fortnight's provisions with them, they were forced to return, when within about fifty miles of Wilson's Promontory. This fine addition to the already known territory was called Gippsland, after Sir George Gipps, the Governor who had the disagreeable eccentricity of insisting that all the towns laid out during his term of office should have no public squares included in their boundaries, as he was convinced that public squares encouraged the spread of democracy.

The rivers discovered by McMillan were named by him, but afterwards re-named by Count Strzelecki, whose titles were retained, whilst the rightful ones bestowed by the real discoverer are forgotten.

Doubtless Strzelecki's names, such as the La Trobe, &c., had a ring more pleasing to the official ear.

The celebrated count followed hard on McMillan's footsteps, in fact, the latter met him before reaching home and directed him to the country he had just left. McMillan, having his own interests to serve, said little or nothing about the result of his journey, not wishing to be forestalled in the occupation of the country. Strzelecki, not being interested in squatting pursuits, made public the value of the province as soon as he returned, which has led to his being often erroneously considered the discoverer of Gippsland.

Strzelecki's trip through Gippsland, in 1840, was part of the work he was undertaking to gather materials for his now well-known book, "The Physical Description of New South Wales, Victoria, and Van Die-man's Land." He mounted the Alps, and named one of the highest peaks Kosciusko, from the fancied resemblance of its outline to the patriot's tomb at Cracow. He then pushed his way through to Western Port, crossing the fine rivers and rich country just found by McMillan. They had to abandon their horses and packs during the latter part of the journey, and fight their way through a dense scrub on a scanty ration of one biscuit and a slice of bacon per day. Here the count's exceeding hardihood stood them in good stead; so weakened were his companions that it was only by constant encouragement he got them along, and when forcing their way through the matted scrub, he often threw himself bodily on it, breaking a bath through for his weakened followers by the sheer weight of his body. They reached Western Port in a most wretched condition, having subsisted latterly on nothing but native bears.

In 1841, a Mr. Orr landed at Corner Inlet and traversed part of the country surveyed by Strzelecki; he traced the La Trobe and other rivers into a large lake fifty miles from Wilson's Promontory, and confirmed the glowing reports of the former travellers.

We have now to bid a final farewell to the garden of Australia, where the explorers' steps trod the alleys of shady forests of gigantic trees, or followed the bank of some living, sparkling stream, rippling and bubbling over its pebbly bed, amid verdant meadows and fertile valleys. No more was the outlook to be over smiling downs backed up by the fleecy-topped Alps, a scene that told of nothing but peace, prosperity, and all the riches of a bountiful soil. The way of the pioneer was, in future, to lead to the north, where the earth refused to afford him pasture for his animals, the clouds to drop rain, and the very trees gave no shade to protect him from the sun in its noontide wrath. Over the lonely plains of the interior, searching for the inland sea, never to be found; for the lofty mountain chain, the backbone of Australia, that had no existence.

On the 5th of August, 1839, E. J. Eyre, and a party consisting of an overseer, three men and two natives, left Port Lincoln, on the western shore of Spencer's Gulf, on an excursion to examine the country to the westward, as far as they could penetrate. Before this he had made an expedition to the north of Adelaide terminating at Mount Arden, an elevation to the N.N.E. of the head of Spencer's Gulf. From this mountain he saw a depression which he took to be the bed of a lake, covered with mud or sand, the future Lake Torrens.

On the 25th of August, after leaving Port Lincoln, he arrived at Streaky Bay, not having crossed a single stream or river, nor even a chain of ponds, during a distance of nearly three hundred miles. Three springs only had been found, and the country was covered with the dreaded EUCALYPTUS DUMOSA scrub (mallee), and the melancholy ti-tree. It must be remembered, however, that Eyre's track bordered closely on the sea coast, and the country would, as is usual in Australia, be of a barren and inhospitable character. Westward of Streaky Bay the scrub still continued, so a depot was formed, and taking only a black boy with him, he reached within about fifty miles of the western limit of South Australia. In appearance the country was more elevated, but there was neither water nor grass, and to return was necessary; in fact, before he got back to the depot, he nearly lost three of his horses.

From Streaky Bay he went east, to the head of Spencer's Gulf, finding the country on his route a little better, but still devoid of water, the party only getting through by means of the rain which luckily fell at the time. On the 29th of September, he reached his old camp at Mount Arden. Here he writes:—

"It was evident that what I had taken on my last journey to be the bed of a dry lake now contained water, and was of a considerable size; but as my time was very limited, and the lake at a considerable distance, I had to forego my wish to visit it. I have, however, no doubt of its being salt, from the nature of the country, and the fact of finding the water very salt in one of the creeks draining into it from the hills. Beyond this lake (which I distinguished with the name of Colonel Torrens), to the westward, was a low, flat-topped range, extending northwesterly as far as I could see."

From here Eyre pursued his old track homeward.

The objects that now excited the attention of the colonists of South Australia were, discovery to the northward, as to the extent of the newfound lake, and the nature of the interior; and the possibility of the existence of a stock route to Western Australia. Eyre, however, after his recent experience, was convinced that the transit of stock round the head of the Great Bight was impracticable, the sterile nature of the country and the absence of watercourses being against it. Such a journey it was true might be most interesting, from a geographical point of view, showing the character of the country intervening between the two settlements, and unfolding the secrets hidden behind the lofty and singular cliffs at the head of the Great Bight, but for more immediate practical results, Eyre favoured the extension of discovery to the north. This was then the course adopted; subscriptions were raised, Eyre himself finding one-third of the horses and expenses, and the Government and colonists the remainder. Meantime, it turned out that the country in the immediate neighbourhood of Port Lincoln was not altogether of of the wretched character met with by Eyre between Streaky Bay and the head of the Gulf.

A Captain Hawson, in company with Mr. William Smith and three other gentlemen, made an excursion for a short distance, and found well-grassed country and abundance of water. Where they turned back they saw a fine valley with a running stream through the centre. This valley they named Rossitur Vale, and the stream the Mississippi, after Captain Rossitur, of the French whaler MISSISSIPPI—the first foreign ship in Port Lincoln, and the man who was afterwards destined to, afford such opportune aid and succour to Eyre.

Western Australia, however, did not seem to entertain the prospect of overland communication with Adelaide with any degree of enthusiasm. The PERTH GAZETTE of that time, indulges in a short article, which reads ludicrously like an extract from the EATANSWILL GAZETTE:—

"Overland from King George's Sound, we have received papers from Adelaide, the mail having been obligingly conveyed by Dr. Harris. In these papers we find the proposal to open a communication between this and South Australia. The object, further than a general exploration of the country, appears undefined; therefore, to us, it seems of little interest, and the steady course of the country should not be disturbed by such wild adventurers. What is South Australia to us? They have their self-supporting system, they have revelled in MOONSHINE long enough; and we ought not to be such fools as to be caught by a mere puffing document appointing gentlemen here to co-operate with the South Australian committee. If we wish to see them, we can soon find our way, and we require no puffing advertisements from the neighbouring colony of high-minded pretensions. We will not be licked by the dog that has bitten us; and we must say that every honest mind should receive with caution any approaches from such a quarter. We put this forward advisedly, and with a desire that such a subject may be deliberately weighed and considered. Their flummery about the existence of a jealous feeling is discreditable to the minds inventing and prompting it for their own private ends."

Evidently the editor of the Perth paper had had a bad time of it, for further on we find him still more bitter against any communication being opened up with the sister colony. It must he remembered that Western Australia was a free colony, and consequently the bugbear of convict contamination was one that was always raised when the subject of opening up a stock route with the older colonies was on the board.

On the 18th June, 1840, Eyre's preparations were ready, and he left Adelaide after a breakfast at Government House, when Captain Sturt presented him with a flag—the Union Jack—worked for the purpose by some of the ladies of the colony.

It is unnecessary to follow him in detail to his former camp at Mount Arden. He trusted that the range of hills he had called Flinders Range, and which he had seen stretching to the north-east, would continue far enough to take him out of the depressed country around Lake Torrens, and in fact, as he says, form a stepping-stone into the interior. His party was a small one for those days, consisting of six white men and two black boys. They had with them three horse drays, and a small vessel called the WATERWITCH, was sent to the head of the Gulf, with the heaviest portion of their supplies.

On the arrival of this vessel, Eyre, with one black boy, made a short trip to Lake Torrens, leaving the rest of the party to land the stores.

He started without any great hopes, and, consequently, was not much disappointed when he found this outpost of the inland sea to be:—

" . . . the dry bed of a lake coated over with a crust of salt, forming one unbroken sheet of pure white, and glittering brilliantly in the sun. On stepping upon this I found that it yielded to the foot, and that below the surface the bed of the lake consisted of a soft mud, and the further we advanced to the westward the more boggy it got, so that at last it became quite impossible to proceed, and I was obliged to return to the outer margin of the lake without ascertaining whether there was water on the surface of its bed further west or not."

At this point Lake Torrens appeared to be about fifteen or twenty miles across, having high land bounding it to the west.

The prospect, although half expected, was dismal in the extreme. There was no chance of crossing the lake, and to follow its shore to the north was impossible on account of the absence of grass and water, the very rain water turning salt after lying a short time on the saline ground. The only chance was in Flinder's Range supplying them with a little feed and rain water in its ravines, so to this range he struck.

It was a cheerless outlook. On one side was an impracticable lake of combined mud and salt; in another a desert of bare and barren plains; and on a third, a range of inhospitable rocks.

"The very stones lying upon the hills looked like the scorched and withered scoria of a volcanic region, and even the natives, judging from the specimen I had seen to-day, partook of the general misery and wretchedness of the place."

Eyre steered for the most distant point of the northern range, which on arrival he christened Mount Deception, as he had hoped from its appearance that he would find water there, but in this he was deceived. Subsisting as best they could on rain puddles on the plains, they at last found a tolerably permanent hole in a small creek, and then returned to the party at the head of the Gulf.

Arrived at the depot, the cutter returned to Adelaide with dispatches, and the provisions having been concealed, the whole party made for the pool of water that Eyre and the boy had discovered. From here the leader and the native boy made another fruitless trip to the north-west, and although they at times discovered a few creeks with a fair amount of water in them, the 2nd of September found Eyre on the top of a small hill, that he appropriately named Mount Hopeless, gazing at the mysterious lake that, as he thought, hemmed him in on three sides, even to the east. There was no prospect visible of getting across this bed of mud and mirage, nothing to do but leave the interior unvisited by this route, and return to the Mount Arden depot.

From the Mount Arden depot he made his way down to Port Lincoln, having finally decided to abandon his intended trip to the interior, and go westward to King George's Sound, finding, perhaps, some outlet to the north on the road.

He divided his party at the head of the Gulf, sending the overseer with most of the stores and men straight across to Streaky Bay, where he formerly bad made a depot. At Port Lincoln he could not obtain the supplies he wanted without sending to Adelaide; so he was, therefore, detained some time, and on the 24th of October started for Streaky Bay, the Governor having placed the WATERWITCH at his disposal for use in South Australian waters. At Streaky Bay he rejoined his overseer, who had got across the desert safely, and was anxiously expecting him. Making another rendezvous with the cutter at Fowler's Bay, they separated to meet again on the 20th of November.

Leaving his party encamped at Fowler's Bay, Eyre, with one native boy, made an attempt to round the Bight, or rather to ascertain what chance he had of taking his party round. He went two days' journey, and finding neither grass nor water for his horses, had to return to his camp. On the 28th he made another attempt, taking with him a dray carrying seventy gallons of water; and on the 30th they fell in with some natives, whom they thought to induce to guide them to water; but the blacks made them understand that there was none ahead, and so Eyre found to his cost, for, still trying to discover some he reduced his horses so that it was only with the greatest difficulty, and after the loss of three of the best of them, that the party struggled back to some sandhills, where they could obtain a little brackish water by digging; and on the 16th, having had to send back for assistance, the explorers re-assembled at Fowler's Bay, having done no good, and lost three valuable horses. The cutter, still in attendance, was sent back to Adelaide for a supply of oats and bran, and also to take back two of the men, for Eyre had determined to reduce the number of his people, awed by the nature of the country he had met with ahead.

Tired out with the monotony of camp life, after the departure of the cutter, he decided on another attempt, although one would have thought the suffering his horses had already gone through would have induced him to give them a longer rest.

On the 30th December he left camp, and that evening reached the sandhills where he had before obtained the brackish water. Next morning they found some natives, who told them once again that there was no water ahead. On the 2nd January he made an attempt to the north-west, undeterred by these warnings, but only got fourteen miles when he had to send the horses back, and on the 5th, making another effort from this point, only got on another seven miles. Sending the dray and horses back, Eyre, with one white man and the black boy, went on, having buried some casks of water against their return. A terribly hot day set in, which so completely exhausted the whole party, that they had to encamp on the sea shore until night fell. The next morning he sent the man back, and pushing ahead came upon some natives digging in the sand, and with their aid watered the horses. They also showed them some more water further on, and accompanied them to it. Beyond this point, they said, there was no water for a ten days' journey.

Eyre rode on some distance, and having ascertained all he could of the nature of the country at the head of the Bight, which he had by this time passed, he returned to the party, and they all shifted back to the old depot, at Fowler's Bay, on the 20th January.

On the 25th the HERO, cutter, arrived (the WATERWITCH having sprung a leak), but her charter did not extend beyond the boundary of South Australia, so that Eyre was unable to use her to carry his heavy stores any further.

Under the circumstances he resolved to send nearly the whole of his party back by the vessel, and push his way through to King George's Sound, or perish.

In arriving at this determination, Eyre was evidently actuated by a sense of such keen disappointment, at being baffled both to the north and the west, that he could not bear the thought of returning to Adelaide a beaten man. Whilst one can give a meed of admiration to the obstinate courage that characterised this resolution, we are also astonished at his persistence in a course that, whilst inevitably entailing the greatest possible suffering on men and horses, could lead to no good nor useful result. With his small party and equipment it would at best be only a struggle for life round the coast, giving no more information than had been acquired by the marine surveys. Even the wild attempts of Grey look comparatively reasonable beside this march of Eyre's, Had he had any object in view beyond the one of being the first white man to cross the desert between the two colonies, his actions might have been excusable, but as it was, his trip was bound to be profitless and resultless.

On the 31st January the cutter departed, and Eyre, the overseer, Baxter, and three native boys, one having come by the HERO, were left alone to face the eight hundred miles of desert solitude before them.

On the 24th, after a long spell, when they were about to start, the HERO returned, bringing a request to Mr. Eyre to abandon his mad attempt and embark himself and party on board the cutter. This he refused to do, and on the 25th made another departure. After passing the water where they had met the natives, they entered upon a dry and desolate tract over which they crossed in safety, but with great suffering. Once more relieved by a native well in the sandy beach, they pushed on, only to encounter evil fortune; horse after horse knocked up, and it was after six days' travelling they managed to get water once more, by digging in the sand.

They were now about six hundred miles from King George's Sound and in a most unenviable position, with the prospect of another one hundred mile stage without water, and the full knowledge that retreat was impossible. Their horses, in consequence of the repeated sufferings from thirst that they had been forced to undergo, were so spiritless and reduced that they could travel scarcely any distance without giving in, and yet the worst was to come. For some time the black boys had been very sullen and discontented, the constant hardships and fatigue, added to what they well-knew lay before them, told upon their spirits. Once they ran away, but hunger forced them to return; even the scanty fare at the camp was better than the slow starvation of the bush. The overseer, too, was afflicted with low spirits, and impressed by the forbidding character of their surroundings. Poor fellow, some foreboding of his fate hung over him.

The toil that had to be gone through may be conceived by the following short extract from Eyre's diary on March 11th, just after accomplishing their first terrible stage after leaving the depot:—

"At night the whole party were, by God's blessing, once more together and in safety, after having passed over one hundred and thirty-five miles of desert country, without a drop of water in its whole extent, and at a season of the year the most unfavourable for such an undertaking. In accomplishing this distance, the sheep had been six and the horses five days without water, and both had been almost wholly without food for the greater part of the time. The little grass we found was so dry and withered that the parched and thirsty animals could not eat it after the second day."

From this camp Eyre started in the hope of shortly coming to a second supply of water that the natives had told him of, and lured on by this idea, he got forty miles from his camp without having made the provision that he should have done before entering on a very long stage. Coming to the conclusion that he must have passed the water, he decided to send the horses back to the last camp for a fresh supply before venturing further on. At midnight the overseer and the natives started back, leaving Eyre to mind the baggage with the scanty allowance of six pints of water to last him for six days until their return. On the 26th of March they again started, and at night reduced their baggage still more in the hope of getting the tired horses through; and the next day everything was abandoned, for still there was no prospect of water ahead.

On the night of the 29th the last drop of water that they had with them was consumed, and the next morning water was obtained by digging in the sand drift—their seventh day out, after travelling, by Eyre's computation, one hundred and sixty miles. It was not until the 27th of April that they left the camp, to enter on the last fearful push that was to decide their fate—and did too well decide the fate of three.

Once more the line of cliffs that had for a time been broken by the sandhills faced the ocean, and from experience Eyre knew well that he might expect no relief when travelling along their summits.

On the evening of the 29th, the third night from their last camp, Eyre took the first watch to look after the horses, as this was necessary every night to prevent them rambling too far.

The night was cold, the wind blowing hard, and across the face of the moon the scud kept rapidly driving. The horses wandered a good deal, and kept separating in the scrub, giving the lonely man much trouble to keep them together, and when his watch was nearly up he headed them for the camp, intending to call the overseer to relieve him, Suddenly the stillness of the desert was broken by the report of a gun.

Eyre was not at first alarmed, thinking it a signal of Baxter's to show him the position of the camp; he called out in reply, but no answer was returned; and, hastening in the direction, was met by one of the boys running towards him crying, "Oh massa, oh massa, come here!" but beyond that could not speak for terror.

Eyre was soon at the camp, and a glance told him that he was now indeed alone. Baxter, wounded to death, was lying on the ground in his last agony, and as Eyre raised his faithful companion, then in the convulsion of death, the frightful and appalling truth burst upon him in its full horror.

"At the dead hour of night, in the wildest and most inhospitable waste of Australia, with the fierce wind raging in unison with the scene of violence before me, I was left with a single native, whose fidelity I could not rely upon, and who, for aught I knew, might be in league with the other two, who, perhaps were, even now, lurking about to take my life, as they had done that of the overseer. Three days had passed away since we left the last water, and it was very doubtful when we might find any more. Six hundred miles of country had to be traversed before I could hope to obtain the slightest aid or assistance of any kind, whilst I knew not that a single drop of water, or an ounce of flour, had been left by these murderers, from a stock that had previously, been so small."

On examining the camp, Eyre found that the two boys had carried off both double-barrelled guns, all the baked bread, and other stores, and a keg of water. All he had left was a rifle with a ball jammed in the barrel, four gallons of water, forty pounds of flour, and a little tea and sugar.

When he had time to collect his thoughts, Eyre judged from the position of the body, that Baxter must have been disturbed by the boys plundering the camp, and getting up to stop them, had been immediately shot. His next care was to put his rifle in serviceable condition, and then as morning broke they hastened away from the fatal camp. It was impossible even to bury the body of his murdered companion; one vast unbroken surface of sheet rock extended for miles in every direction. Well might Eyre exclaim:—

"Though years have now passed away since the enactment of this tragedy, the dreadful horrors of that time and scene are recalled before me with frightful vividness, and make me shudder even now when I think of them. A lifetime was crowded into those few short hours, and death alone may blot out the impressions they produced."

That evening the two murderers re-appeared in the scrub, following the white man and boy. Eyre attempted to get close to them, but they would not come near, remaining at a distance, calling out to the remaining boy (Wylie), who, however, refused to go to them. Finding himself unable to get to close quarters with them, Eyre proceeded on his journey, and the two boys were never seen again, and, without doubt, they soon perished miserably of hunger and thirst.

At last, after being again seven days without water for the horses, they reached the end of the long line of cliffs, and amongst the sand dunes came again to a native well, and got their poor tortured horses a drink.

Moving on now in easier stages, and getting water by digging at the foot of the different sand hills he encountered, Eyre proceeded on with better hopes for the future; he felt confident that he was past the great belt of and country, and that with every day the travelling would improve.

On the 8th of May, another horse was killed, and a supply of meat dried to carry with them.

From this point water was more frequently met with, a decided change for the better took place in the face of the country, and the wretched horses they still had left began to pick up a little. At last, when their rations were quite exhausted, they sighted a ship at anchor in Thistle Cove. She turned out to be the MISSISSIPPI, whaler, Captain Rossitur, and once more Eyre had to thank fortune for relief at a critical moment.

For ten days he forgot his sufferings, and regained some of his lost strength, under the hospitable care of Captain Rossitur, who, it will be remembered, was the first foreigner to anchor in Port Lincoln.

Provided with fresh clothes and provisions, with his horses newly shod, Eyre recommenced his pilgrimage, and arrived in King George's Sound on July 8th. Having successfully crossed from Port Lincoln to King George's Sound, with incredible suffering, not alone to himself, but also to his men and horses, so far as they accompanied him; added to which, his obstinate persistence, led to the death of Baxter, who, against his own convictions, went on with him, rather than leave him in his need.

It is generally said with regard to this journey of Eyre's, that it any rate established the fact that no considerable creek flowed from the interior to the south coast. But this had been pretty well-known before by the maritime surveys, for it must be borne in mind that this portion of the Australian shore in no way resembles the general coast line of Australia. Granted that numbers of the largest rivers in the continent were overlooked by the navigators, we must also remember that the conditions here were essentially different. No fringe of low mangrove covered flats, studded with inlets and salt-water creeks, masking the entrance of a river, was here to be found. A bold outline of barren cliffs, or a clean-swept sandy shore, alone fronted the ocean, and Flinders, constantly on the alert as he always was for anything approaching an outlet or river mouth, would scarcely have missed one here. As for any knowledge of the interior that was gained, of course there was none, even the conjectures of a worn out, starving man, picking his way painfully around the sea shore, would have scarcely been of much value. Eyre has, however secured for himself a name for courage and perseverance, under the most terrible circumstances that could well beset a man, and this qualification leads us to overlook his errors of judgment. The picture of the lonely man—not separated from his fellow creatures by the sea, as has often been the case, but by countless miles of weary, untrodden waste, in his plundered camp, beside his murdered companion—is one that for peculiar horror, can never be surpassed.

Eyre was warmly welcomed on his return to Adelaide, and he was subsequently appointed police magistrate on the Murray, where his experience and knowledge of the natives was of great service. When Sturt started on his memorable trip to the central desert, he accompanied him for a long distance; but his active nature found vent in other fields than those of exploration in future.

Eyre was a man who was thoroughly distinguished by his love for the aborigines. In after life he was appointed their protector on the Murray, at the time when the continual skirmishes between the natives and the overlanders used to be a matter of almost daily occurrence.

The courage that he had exemplified, and his wonderful march round the Great Bight, was brought into force again and again, in efforts to keep peace between the rival races. The blacks of the Murray Bend were always notable for their warlike character, and Eyre was the most fitting man that could have been selected for the post.



CHAPTER VI.



Explorations around Moreton Bay—Development of the Eastern Coast—The first pioneers of the Darling Downs—Stuart and Sydenham Russell—The Condamine River and Cecil Plains—Great interest taken in exploration at this period—Renewed explorations around Lake Torrens—Surveyor-General Frome—Death of Horrocks, the first explorer to introduce camels—Sturt's last expedition—Route by the Darling chosen—Poole fancies that he sees the inland sea—Discovery of Flood's Creek—The prison depot—Impossible to advance or retreat—Breaking up of the drought—Death of Poole—Fresh attempts to the north—The desert—Eyre's Creek discovered—Return and fresh attempt—Discoveries of Cooper and Strzelecki Creeks—Retreat to the Depot Glen—Final return to the Darling—Ludwig Leichhardt the lost explorer—His great trip north—Finding of the Burdekin, the Mackenzie, Isaacs and Suttor—Murder of the naturalist Gibert—Discovery of the Gulf Rivers—Arrival at Port Essington—His return and reception— Surveyor-General Mitchell's last expedition—Follows up the Balonne— Crosses to the head of the Belyando—Disappointed in that river—Returns and crosses to the head of the Victoria (Barcoo)—The beautiful Downs country—First mention of the Mitchell grass—False hopes entertained of the Victoria running into the Gulf of Carpentaria.

Disappointing as all the attempts to penetrate to the north had been, the South Australians did not by any means abandon their efforts, either public or private, to ascertain the nature and value of the interior. The supposed horseshoe formation of Lake Torrens, presenting thus an impassable barrier, was discouraging, but hopes were entertained that breaks in it would be found that would afford a passage across; and beyond, the country might prove of a less repellent character than the district immediately around the lake.

But the east coast and the country at the back of the new settlement of Moreton Bay, now commands our attention, Such an important discovery as that made by Cunningham of the Darling Downs, needless to say, attracted the attention of the graziers of the settled districts in search of fresh pastures. The country west of the Darling having received such an unfavourable name from the explorers who had made any efforts beyond it. The westward march of the overlanders was checked in that direction, and their stock spread to the north, south, and south-cast.

In March 1840, Patrick Leslie, who has always been considered the father of settlement on the Darling Downs, left an outside station in New England, and after a short inspection of the scene of Cunningham's discovery, finally, in the middle of the year, settled down on the Condamine.

In 1841 the Condamine River was followed for a hundred miles by Messrs. Stuart and Sydenham Russell, from below Jimbour, the northernmost station on a Darling Downs creek; and on the return journey some of the party made an attempt to cross the range to the Wide Bay district, but were prevented by the scrub. In the following month, November, the flow of the Condamine was again picked up in the space below Turnmervil, the lowest station on a creek above Jimbour, and the channel of the river distinguished, where it was formerly supposed to have been for awhile lost. An extensive tract of rich grazing country was found open and well-watered by anabranches, with lagoons in their beds. This district has ever since borne the well-known name of Cecil Plains, then bestowed on it.

In 1842 Stuart Russell went from Moreton Bay to Wide Bay in a boat, and made an examination of some of the streams there emptying into the sea. Amongst other adventures the party picked up with an escaped convict who had been fourteen years with the blacks. During the same year Stuart Russell explored the country from Wide Bay to the Boyne (not the river named by Oxley in Port Curtis), and subsequently followed and laid down this stream throughout, crossing from inland waters on to the head of it. Russell's work in opening up so much available country, is a fair sample of the private explorations before referred to, which fill up such a large space of the record of discovery, and yet have received so little recognition that the remembrance of most of them has been quite lost, or preserved in such a way as to be hardly looked upon as reliable history.

We are now approaching a period when the exploration of the continent was an object of absorbing interest to all the settlements fast growing into importance on the southern and eastern coasts. Three explorers, who may be classed as the greatest, the most successful, and the one whose star that rose so bright at this time was doomed to set in misfortune, were in the field at the same time. Charles Sturt, fated once more to meet and be defeated (if such a gallant struggle can be called defeat) by the inexorable desert and the stern denial of its climate. Thomas Mitchell, again the favoured of fortune, to wend his way by well-watered streams and grassy downs and plains. And Ludwig Leichhardt, to accomplish his one great journey through the country permeated by the rivers of the eastern and northern coast. But before starting in company with these deathless names, we must, for a while, return to Lake Torrens.

Eyre, it will be remembered, reached, after much labour, a hill to the north east at the termination of the range, which he named Mount Hopeless. From the view he obtained from the summit, he concluded that Lake Torrens completely enclosed the northern portion of the province of South Australia; and in fact that the province had once been an island, as the low-lying plains probably joined the flat country west of the Darling.

In 1843, the then Surveyor-General of the colony, Captain Frome, started to the north to ascertain as much of this mysterious lake as he could. He reached Mount Serle, and found the dry bed of the great lake to the eastward, as described by Eyre, but discovered an error of thirty miles in its position, Eyre having placed it too far to the eastward. Further north than this, Frome did not proceed; on his way back lie made two excursions to the eastward, but found nothing but sterile and unpromising country. He confirmed then, the existence of a lake to the eastward of the southern point of Lake Torrens, but his explorations did not go far to determine the identity of the two, nor their uninterrupted continuity. Prior to this, a series of explorations, followed by settlement, had taken place east and west of Eyre's track, between Adelaide and the head of Spencer's Gulf. One promising expedition was nipped in the bud by the accidental death of the leader, a rising young explorer, who had already won his spurs in opening up fresh country in the province. This was Mr. J. Horrocks, who formed a plan for travelling up the western side of Lake Torrens, and then, if possible, making westward and trying to reach the Swan River. This expedition is especially noteworthy as being the first one in which a camel was made use of, and to Horrocks, is due the credit of first introducing these animals as baggage carriers. When at the head of the Gulf, and about to grapple with the unknown land to the west, his gun accidentally went off, and he received the charge in his face. He lived to return to the station, but died a few days afterwards.

Amongst the other pioneers who contributed more or less to spread settlement in the province, and succeeded, may be mentioned Messrs. Hawker, Hughes, Campbell, Robinson, and Heywood.

Perhaps, of all the journeys into the interior, none have excited more sustained interest than Sturt's. It must be admitted that his account, however truthful it may have appeared to him at the time, is misleading, and overdrawn. But whilst saying this let us look at the circumstances under which he received the impressions he has put on record.

He was a thoroughly broken and disappointed man; for six months he had been shut up in his weary depot prison, debarred from making any attempt to complete his work, watching his friend and companion die slowly before his eyes. When the kindly rains released him, he was turned back and constantly back by a strip of desert country, that seemed to dog him whichever way he turned. No wonder he fairly hated the place, and looked at all things through the heated, treacherous haze of the desert plains.

When, therefore, he speaks of the awful temperature that rendered life unbearable, and the inland slopes of Australia unfitted for human habitation, it must be recalled that the party were weak and suffering, liable to feel oppressive heat or extreme cold, more keenly than strong and healthy men. In the ranges where Sturt spent his summer months of detention, there is now one of the wonderful mining townships of Australia, where men toil as laboriously as in a temperate zone, and the fires of the battery and the smelting furnace burn steadily day and night, in sight of the spot where Poole lies buried. And at the lower levels of the shafts trickle the waters of subterranean streams that Sturt never dreamt of. But though baffled, and unable to gain the goal he strove for, never did man better deserve success. His instructions were to reach the centre of the continent, to discover whether range or sea existed there; and if the former, to note the flow of the northern waters, but on no account to follow them down to the northern sea. As usual, the Home Office, in their official wisdom, knew more than did the colonists, and instructed him to proceed by way of Mount Arden; the route already tried and abandoned by Eyre.

Sturt chose to proceed by the Darling. His plan was to follow that river up as far as the Williorara or Laidley's Ponds, a small western tributary of the Darling, opposite the point were Mitchell turned back, in 1835, after his conflict with the natives. Thence he intended to strike north-west, hoping thus to avoid the gloomy environs of Lake Torrens, and its treacherous bed.

At Moorundi, on the Murray, he was met by Eyre, then resident magistrate at that place, and here the party mustered and made their start.

Sturt was accompanied by Poole, as second in command, Browne, who was a thorough bushman and an excellent surgeon, accompanied him as a friend; with them also went McDouall Stuart, as draftsman, whose fame as an explorer afterwards equalled that of his leader, besides twelve men, eleven horses, thirty bullocks, one boat and boat carriage, one horse dray, one spring cart, three bullock drays, two hundred sheep, four kangaroo dogs, and two sheep dogs.

Eyre accompanied the expedition as far as Lake Victoria, which point they reached on the 10th of September, 1844. Here Eyre left them, and on the 11th of October the explorers arrived at Williorara, the place where they intended leaving the Darling for the interior. The appearance of this watercourse very much disappointed Sturt, he had hoped from the account of the natives to find in it a fair-sized creek, heading from a low range, distantly visible to the north-west; instead, he found it a mere channel for the flood water of the Darling, distributing it into some shallow lakes, back from the river, a distance of some eight or nine miles, Sturt, as a first step dispatched Poole and Stuart to the range, to see if they could obtain any view of the country to the north-west. They were absent four days, and returned with the rather startling intelligence, that from the top of a peak in the range, Poole had seen a large lake studded with islands.

Although in his published journal, written long afterwards, Sturt makes light of Poole's fancied lake, which, of course, was the effect of mirage, at that time his ardent fancy made him believe that he was on the eve of a great discovery. In a letter to Mr. Morphett, of Adelaide, he writes:—

"Poole has just returned from the ranges. I have not time to write over again. He says there are high ranges to the N. and N.W., and water, a sea extending along the horizon from S.W. by S., and ten E. of N., in which there are a number of islands and lofty ranges as far as the eye can reach. What is all this? Are we to be prosperous? I hope so, and I am sure you do. To-morrow we start for the ranges, and then for the waters, the strange waters, on which boat never swam, and over which flag never floated. But both shall ere long. We have the heart of the interior laid open to us, and shall be off with a flowing, sheet in a few days. Poole says the sea was a deep blue, and that in the midst of it was a conical island of great height. When will you hear from me again?"

Poor Sturt! no boat of his was ever to float on that visionary sea, nor his flag to wave over its dream waters.

The whole of the party now removed to a small shallow lake, the termination of the Williorara Channel. From here he started on an excursion to the more distant ranges reported by Poole, accompanied by Browne and two men, went ahead for the purpose of finding water of a sufficient permanency to remove the whole of the party, as at the lake where they were encamped there was always the chance of becoming embroiled with the natives. He was successful in finding what he wanted, and on the 4th of November the main body of the expedition removed there, now finally leaving the waters of the Darling.

The next day, Sturt and Browne, with three men and the cart, started on another trip in search of water ahead. This they found in small quantities, and rain coming on, Sturt returned and sent Poole out again to search, whilst the camp was moved on. On his return he reported having seen some shallow, brackish lakes, and caught sight of Eyre's Mount Serle. They were now on the western slope of the Barrier Ranges, and but for the providential discovery of a fine creek to the north, would have been unable to retain their position. To this creek (Flood's Creek) they removed the camp, and Sturt congratulated himself on the steady and satisfactory progress he was making. They now left the Barrier Range, and made for one further north, staying for some ten days at a small lagoon, during which time an examination of the country ahead was made.

On the 27th January, 1845, they removed to a creek, heading from a small range; at the head of this creek was a fine supply of permanent water, and here the explorers pitched their tents, little thinking that it would be the 17th of July following before they would be struck. Perhaps a short description from Sturt's pen will aid the reader's imagination in picturing the situation of the party.



"It was not, however, until after we had run down every creek in the neighbourhood, and had traversed the country in every direction, that the truth flashed across my mind, and it became evident to me that we were locked up in the desolate and heated region into which we had penetrated as effectually as if we had wintered at the Pole. It was long indeed ere I could bring myself to believe that so great a misfortune had overtaken us, but so it was. Providence had, in its all wise purposes, guided us to the only spot in that wide-spread desert, where our wants could have been permanently supplied, but had there stayed our further progress into a region that almost appears to be forbidden ground."

* * * * *

"The creek was marked by a line of gum-trees, from the mouth of the glen to its junction with the main branch, in which, excepting in isolated spots, water was no longer to be found. The Red Hill (afterwards called Mount Poole) bore N. N.W. from us, distant three and a-half miles; between us and it there were undulating plains, covered with stones or salsolaceous herbage, excepting in the hollows wherein there was a little grass. Behind us were level stony plains, with small sandy undulations bounded by brush, over which the Black Hill was visible, distant ten miles, bearing S.S.E. from the Red Hill. To the eastward, the country was as I have described it, hilly. Westward at a quarter of a mile the low range, through which Depot Creek forces itself, shut out from our view the extensive plains on which it rises."

This then was Sturt's prison, although at first he had not realised that in spite of every precaution, his retreat was cut off until the next rainfall.

Of Sturt's existence and occupation during this dreary period little can be said. He tried in every direction, until convinced of the uselessness of so doing, sometimes encouraged and led on by shallow pools in some fragmentary creek bed, at others, seeing nothing before him but hopeless aridity. Now, too, he found himself attacked with what he then thought was rheumatism, but proved to be scurvy, and Poole and Browne too were afflicted in the same way.

We now come to one of the picturesque incidents that Sturt has introduced in his narrative, and that help to fix on our memory the strangely weird picture of the lonely band of men confronted with the unaccustomed forces of nature in this wilderness.

"As we rode across the stony plain lying between us and the hills, the heated and parching blasts that came upon us, were more than we could bear. We were in the centre of the plain, when Mr. Browne drew my attention to a number of small black specks in the upper air. These spots increasing momentarily in size, were evidently approaching us rapidly. In an incredibly short space of time, we were surrounded by hundreds of the common kite, stooping down to within a few feet of us, and then turning away after having eyed us steadily. Several approached us so closely, that they threw themselves back to avoid contact, opening their beaks and spreading out their talons. The long flight of these birds, reaching from the ground into the heavens, put me strongly in mind of one of Martin's beautiful designs, in which he produces the effect of distance by a multitude of objects vanishing from the view."

Sturt, during his detention in the depot, made one desperate attempt to the north, when he succeeded in getting a mile above the 28th parallel, but found nothing to repay him for his trouble.

And so week after week of this fearful monotony passed on without hardly a break or change.

Once, an old native wandered to their camp. He was starving and thirsty, looking a fit being to emerge from the gaunt waste around them. The dogs attacked him when he approached, but he stood his ground and fought them valiantly until they were called off; his whole demeanour was calm and courageous, and he showed neither surprise nor timidity. He drank greedily when water was given him, and ate voraciously, but whence he came the men could not divine nor could he explain to them. He accepted what was given to him, as a right expected by one fellow-being from another, cut off in the desert from their own kin. While he stopped at their camp he showed that he knew the use of the boat, explaining that it was upside down, as of course it was, and pointing to the N.W. as the place where they would want it, raising poor Sturt's hopes once more. After a fortnight he departed as he came, saying he would come back, but he never did.

"With him," says Sturt pathetically, "all our hopes vanished, for even the presence of this savage was soothing to us, and so long as he remained we indulged in anticipations as to the future. From the time of his departure a gloomy silence pervaded the camp; we were, indeed, placed under the most trying circumstances, everything combined to depress our spirits and exhaust our patience. We had witnessed migration after migration of the feathered tribes, to that point to which we were so anxious to push our way. Flights of cockatoos, of parrots, of pigeons, and of bitterns; birds, also, whose notes had cheered us in the wilderness, all had taken the same high road to a better and more hospitable region."

And now the water began to sink with frightful rapidity, and they all thought that the end was surely coming. Hoping against hope, Sturt laid his plans to start as soon as the drought broke up, himself to proceed north and west whilst poor Poole, reduced to a frightful condition by scurvy, was to be sent carefully back as the only means of saving his life.

On the 12th and 13th of July the rain commenced, and the siege was raised, but Poole never lived to profit by it. Every arrangement for his comfort was made that the circumstances permitted, but on the first day's journey he died, and they brought his body back to the depot and made his lonely grave there. Sturt's way was now open. After burying his lamented friend, he again dispatched the party that was selected to return home, and, with renewed hope, made preparations for the northwest. He first, however, removed the depot to a better grassed locality, water being now plentiful everywhere. During a short western trip, on the 4th August they found themselves on the edge of an immense shallow and sandy basin, in which were detached sheets of water, "as blue as indigo and as salt as brine." This they took to be Lake Torrens, and returned to the depot to arrange matters for a final departure.

Stuart was left in charge of the depot, Browne accompanying Sturt; and on the 14th a start was made. For some days, owing to the pools of surface water left by the recent rain, they had no difficulty in keeping a straightforward course. The country passed over consisted of large level plains and long sand ridges, but they crossed numerous creeks and found more or less water in all of them, and finally got into a well-grassed, pleasing looking country, which greatly cheered them with a prospect of success, when, suddenly, they were confronted by a wall of sand, and for nearly twenty miles toiled over succeeding ridges. Fortunately, they found both water and feed, but their hopes received a sudden and complete downfall. Nor did a walk to the extremity of one of the sand ridges serve to raise their spirits. Sturt saw before him an immense plain, of a dark purple hue, with its horizon like that of the sea, boundless in the direction in which he wished to proceed. This was the Stony Desert. That night they camped in it, and the next morning came to an earthy plain, with here and there a few bushes of polygonum growing beside some stray channel, in some of which they, luckily, found a little muddy rain water still left. When they camped at night they sighted, for a short time, some hills to the north, and, on examining them through the telescope, saw dark shadows on their faces as if produced by cliffs. Next day they made for these hills, in the hope of finding a change of country and feed for their horses; but they were disappointed. Sand ridges in terrible array once more rose up before them. "Even the animals," says Sturt, "appeared to regard them with dismay."

Over plains and sand dunes, the former full of yawning cracks and holes, the party pushed on, subsisting on precarious pools of muddy water and fast-sinking native wells; until, on the 3rd of September, Flood, the stockman, who was riding ahead, held up his hat and called aloud to them that a large creek was in sight.

On coming up the others saw a beautiful watercourse, the bed of which was full of grass and water. This creek Sturt called Eyre's Creek, and it was one of the most important discoveries he made in this region. Along this watercourse they made easy stages until the 7th, when the creek was lost, and the water in the lagoons near the bank was found to be intensely salt. After repeated efforts to continue his journey, which only led him amongst the everlasting sand hills, separated by plains encrusted with salt, Sturt came to the erroneous conclusion that he was at the head of the creek, and further progress impossible. Had he but known it, he was within reach of permanently watered rivers, along which he could have travelled as far north as he wished. But there was neither sign nor clue afforded him; his men were sick, and his retreat to the depot most precarious; there was nothing for it but to fall back again, and after a toilsome journey they reached the depot, or Fort Grey as they had christened it, on the 2nd October.

Sturt now made up his mind for a final effort due north, and in company with Stuart and two fresh men, he started on the 9th of October; and on the second day reached Strzelecki Creek, which was the name they had given to the first creek crossed on their late expedition. On the 13th, they arrived at the banks of a magnificent channel with grassy banks, fine trees and abundant water; this was the now well-known Cooper's Creek, one of the most important rivers of the interior, its tributaries draining the southern slopes of the dividing watershed in the north.

Sturt on reaching this unexpected discovery was uncertain whether to follow its course to the eastward, or persevere in his original intention of pushing to the north. A thunder storm falling at the time made him adhere to his original course, and defer the examination of the new river until his return. In seven days after leaving Cooper's Creek, he had the negative satisfaction, as he expected, of gazing over the dreary waste of the stony desert, unchanged and forbidding as ever. They crossed it, and were again turned back by sand hill and salt plain, and forced to retrace their steps to Cooper's Creek. This creek Sturt followed upward for many days, but finding it did not take him in the direction he desired to go, and moreover, the large broad channel that they first came to, became divided into many small ones, which ran through flooded plains, making the travelling most tiring on their exhausted horses; he reluctantly turned back. They had found the creek well populated with natives, and the prospects of getting on were apparently better than they had ever met with before, but both Sturt and his men were weak and ill, and his horses thoroughly tired out, and also he was not sure of his retreat.

Following Cooper's Creek back, they found that the water had dried up so rapidly that grave fears were entertained that Strzelecki's Creek, their main reliance in going back to the depot, would be dry. Fortunately, they were in time to find a little muddy fluid left, just enough to serve them. Here they experienced a hot wind that forced them to camp the whole day, although most anxious to get on.

"We had scarcely got there," writes Sturt, "when the wind, which had been blowing all the morning hot from the north-east, increased to a gale, and I shall never forget its withering effects. I sought shelter behind a large gum tree, but the blasts of heat were so terrific, that I wondered the very grass did not take fire. This really was nothing ideal; everything, both animate and inanimate, gave way before it; the horses stood with their backs to the wind, and their noses to the ground, without the muscular strength to raise their heads; the birds were mute, and the leaves of the tree under which we were sitting, fell like a snow shower around us. At noon, I took a thermometer, graduated to 127 degrees, out of my box, and observed that the mercury was up to 125. Thinking that it had been unduly influenced, I put it in the fork of a tree close to me, sheltered alike from the wind and the sun. In this position I went to examine it about an hour afterwards, when I found that the mercury had risen to the top of the instrument, and that its further expansion had burst the bulb, a circumstance that, I believe, no traveller has had to recount before."

Let the reader remember when reading the above description, which has been so much quoted, that the man who wrote it was in such a weakened condition, that he had no energy left to withstand the hot wind, and that the shade they were cowering under was of the scantiest description.

They had still a journey of eighty-six miles, back to Fort Grey, with little prospect of any water being found on the way. After a long and weary ride they reached it only to find that, owing to the bad state of the water, Browne had been compelled to fall back on to their old camp at the Depot Glen.

"We reached the plain just as the sun was descending, without having dismounted from our horses for fifteen hours, and as we rode down the embankment into it, looked around for the cattle, but none were to be seen. We looked towards the little sandy mound on which the tents had stood, but no white objects there met our eye; we rode slowly up to the stockade and found it silent and deserted. I was quite sure that Mr. Browne had had urgent reasons for retiring. I had, indeed, anticipated the measure. I hardly hoped to find him at the Fort, and had given him instructions on the subject of his removal; yet, a sickening feeling came over me when I saw that he was really gone; not on my own account, for, with the bitter feelings of disappointment with which I was returning home, I could calmly have laid my head on that desert, never to raise it again."

Riding day and night, Sturt at last reached the encampment, so exhausted as to be hardly able to stand:—

"When I dismounted, I had nearly fallen forward. Thinking that one of the kangaroo dogs, in his greeting, had pushed me between the legs, I turned round to give him a slap, but no dog was there, and I soon found out that what I had felt was nothing more than strong muscular action, brought on by riding."

Now came the question of their final escape. The water in the Depot Creek was so much reduced that they feared that there would be none left in Flood's Creek, and if so, they were once more imprisoned. Browne undertook the long ride of one hundred and eighteen miles, which was to decide the question. Preparations had to be made for his journey by filling a bullock skin with water, and sending a dray with it as far as possible; and on the eighth day he returned.

"'Well Browne,' said Sturt, who was helpless in his tent, 'what news? Is it to be good or bad?' 'there is still water in the creek,' replied Browne, 'but that is all I can say; what there is, is as black as ink, and we must make haste, for in a week it will be gone.'"

The boat that was to have floated on the inland sea, was left to rot at the Depot Glen, all the heaviest of the stores abandoned., and the retreat of over two hundred miles to the Darling commenced.

More bullock skins were fashioned into bags, to carry water for the stock, and with their aid, and that of a kindly shower of rain, they crossed the dry stage to Flood's Creek in safety. Here they found the vegetation more advanced, and with care, and constant activity in looking out for water on ahead, they gradually left behind them the scene of their labours and approached the Darling; Sturt having to be carried on one of the drays, and lifted on and off at each stoppage.

On the 21st December, they arrived at the camp of the relief party, under Piesse, at Williorara, and Sturt's last expedition came to an end.

As he has often been termed the father of Australian exploration, it may be as well to look back on the result of his life-long labours. His burning desire to reach the heart of the continent had constantly led him into dangers and difficulties that other explorers shunned, and unfortunate as he always was in his seasons, he brought back a forbidding report of the, usefulness of the country he had discovered, which led to its gradual settlement, only after long years had passed, and men had grown accustomed to the desert, and laughed at its terrors; finding that experience robbed them of their first effect.

Sturt found the Darling, and traced the Murray to its mouth, thus discovering the great arteries of the water system of the most populated part of Australia, leaving the details to be filled in by others. In the interior he was the finder of Eyre's Creek and Cooper's Creek; one of the tributaries of the latter was soon afterwards discovered by Mitchell, and named by him the Victoria, now called the Barcoo. In these two creeks, as he called them, on account of the absence of flowing water in their beds, Sturt unwittingly crossed the second and only other great inland river system of the continent. In the basin he traversed, in which these creeks lost their character, he was riding over the united beds of the Barcoo, the Thomson, the Diamentina, and the Herbert, west of whose waters nothing in the shape of a defined system of drainage exists, until the rivers of the western coast are reached. As a scientific explorer then, whose object was to unravel the mystery of the interior, solve, if possible, the question of its strange peculiarity, and trace out its physical formation, Sturt may well be held the first and greatest. His success, perhaps, was greater than he himself imagined, he came back dispirited with failure but as before he had found the broad outlines of the plan of the drainage of the great plains, to be afterwards completed by the discoveries of the tributary streams.

In addition to his longing to be the first to reach the centre of Australia, Sturt fondly hoped that once past the southern zone of the tropics, he would find himself in a country blessed with a heavier and more constant rainfall; as it was impossible for him to know at that time, that the force of the north-west monsoon was expended on the northern coast, and none of the tropical deluge found its way with any degree of regularity to the thirsty inland slope; this theory appeared on the face of it, feasible. Although an after knowledge may have now enabled us to see the mistakes he made, and to regard his descriptions of the uninhabitable nature of the interior as exaggerated, it must be admitted that others in the same place and circumstances would have made similar errors, and drawn equally false conclusions.

In taking leave of this explorer, another short extract from his journal will best show the character of the man of whom Australians should be so justly proud.

"Circumstances may yet arise to give a value to my recent labours, and my name may be remembered by after generations in Australia, as the first who tried to penetrate to its centre. If I failed in that great object, I have one consolation in the retrospect of my past services. My path amongst savage tribes has been a bloodless one, not but that I have often been placed in situations of risk and danger, when I might have been justified in shedding blood, but I trust I have ever made allowances for human timidity, and respected the customs of the rudest people."

The next prominent figure in the history of this time is Leichhardt, whose unknown fate has been the cause of so much sentiment clinging about his name.

Dr. Ludwig Leichhardt arrived in the colony in 1842, and travelled to Moreton Bay overland, where he occupied himself for two years in short excursions in the neighbourhood, pursuing his favourite study of physical science. Leichhardt was born in Beskow, near Berlin, and studied in Berlin. Through a neglect, he was excluded from the one-year military service, and thereby induced to escape from the three-yearly service. The consequence was, that he was pursued as a deserter and sentenced IN CONTUMACIAM.

Afterwards, Alexander Von Humboldt succeeded, by representing his services to science on his first expedition in Australia, in obtaining a pardon from the King. By a Cabinet order Leichhardt received permission to return to Prussia unpunished. This order, whether of any value to Leichhardt or not, came too late. When it arrived in Australia he had already started on his last expedition.

When the expedition was projected from Fort Bourke, on the Darling, to the Gulf of Carpentaria or Port Essington, he was desirous of securing the position of naturalist thereon; the delay in the starting of it disappointed him, and he made up his mind to attempt one on his own account, a project in which he received little encouragement. He persevered, however, and eking out his own resources, by means of private contributions he managed to get a party together, and on the 1st of October, 1844, he left Jimbour, on the Darling Downs, with six whites and two blacks, 17 horses, 16 head of cattle, and four kangaroo dogs; his other supplies being proportionately meagre.

As Leichhardt's journal of this trip has been so widely read, and as it does not possess the same striking interest as that of Sturt's, from the more accessible nature of the country travelled through, and the absence of the constantly threatening dangers overhanging both Sturt and Eyre, a shorter account of the progress of the expedition will be found most acceptable.

His plan of starting from the Moreton Bay district, and proceeding to Port Essington, differed considerably from that proposed by Sir Thomas Mitchell. The course adopted by Leichhardt, although longer and more roundabout than that suggested from Fort Bourke, would be safer for his little band, keeping as it would, more to the well-watered coastal districts, and avoiding the constant separations entailed upon parties traversing the interior.

Leaving the head waters of the Condamine, the river which receives so many of the tributary streams of the Darling Downs, Leichhardt struck a river, which he named the Dawson, thence he passed westward, on to the fine country of the Peak Downs, whereon he named the minor waters of the Comet, Planet, and Zamia Creeks.

On the 10th of January, 1845, the Mackenzie River was discovered, and here the Doctor and the black boy, Charlie, managed to get lost for two or three days, a faculty which apparently most of the party happily possessed. Following up the Isaacs River, a tributary of the Fitzroy, they crossed the head of it on to the Suttor; the only variation in the monotonous record of the daily travel being the occasional capture of game, and the mutinous conduct of the two black boys, who at various times essayed to leave the party and shift for themselves, but were on each occasion glad to return.

Following down the Suttor, they arrived at the Burdekin, the largest river on the east coast, discovered by Leichhardt, up the valley of which they travelled, until they crossed the dividing watershed between the waters of the east coast and the Gulf of Carpentaria, on to the head of the Lynd, which river they followed to its junction with the Mitchell. Finding the course of this river leading them too high north, on the eastern shore of the Gulf, they left it, and struck to the sea coast, intending to follow round the southern coast at a reasonable distance inland. Up to this time they had been so little troubled by the natives, that they had ceased almost to think of meeting with any hostility from them.

On the night of the 28th June, 1845, they were encamped at a chain of shallow lagoons, when soon after seven o'clock, a shower of spears was thrown into the camp, wounding Messrs. Roper and Calvert, and killing Mr. Gilbert instantly. So unprepared were the party, that the guns were uncapped, and it was some time before three or four discharges made the blacks take to their heels. The body of the naturalist was buried at the camp, but his grave was unmarked, as in order to prevent the blacks from disinterring it, a large fire was lit over the grave to hide its site.

From this unfortunate camp the party proceeded slowly with the two wounded men for some days. A strange incident, scarcely credible, happened during their tramp round the Gulf. One night a blackfellow walked deliberately up to the fire round which the party were assembled, having seemingly mistaken it for his own. On discovering his mistake, he immediately climbed up a tree, and raised a horrible din, lamenting, sobbing, and crying, until they all removed to a short distance and afforded him a chance of which he eagerly availed himself, of escaping.

Leichhardt followed round the Gulf shores, naming the many rivers he crossed after friends or contributors to his expedition, or where he could identify them, retaining the names of the coast surveys. On the 6th of August, he reached a river which he mistook for the Albert, of Captain Stokes, but which now bears his name, being so christened by A. C. Gregory, who rectified his error. On this occasion, Leichhardt did not err so widely as Burke and Wills did subsequently, when they mistook the mouth of the Flinders for the Albert. With decreasing supplies and increasing fatigue, they at last reached the large river in the south-west corner of the Gulf, which he named the Roper, and here he had the misfortune to lose four horses, and had to sacrifice the whole of his botanical collection—a heavy loss. On the 17th December, when very near the last of everything, they arrived at the settlement of Victoria, at Port Essington, and their long journey of ten months was over.

This expedition, successful as it was in opening up such a large area of well watered country, attracted universal attention, and enthusiastic poets broke forth into song at Leichhardt's return, as they already had done at his reported death. He was heartily welcomed back to Sydney, and dubbed by journalists the "Prince of Explorers." But, perhaps, better still, a solid money reward was raised by both public and private subscription, and shared amongst the party, in due proportions. During his journey, Leichhardt had discovered many important rivers draining large and fertile areas. The principal being the Dawson, the Mackenzie, the Suttor, the Burdekin, and its many tributaries. The numerous streams of the Gulf of Carpentaria, and others that have since become almost household words in Australian geography. He was singularly fortunate on this occasion; although, judging by his after career, the luck which had carried him through from Moreton Bay to Port Essington deserted him suddenly and completely. His route had been through a country so easy to penetrate and well watered, that on one night only, had the party camped without water. The blacks, with the exception of the time when Mr. Gilbert was killed, were neither troublesome nor hostile, beyond occasionally threatening them. Game was fairly plentiful, and compared with the obstacles that beset Sturt, Eyre, and Mitchell, the footsteps of the explorers had been through a garden of Eden.

But what took the public fancy the most was a certain halo of romance surrounding the journey, partly from the report of the death of the traveller having been circulated, and partly from the trip having been successful in reaching the goal aimed at, and attaining the results desired, namely, an available and habitable route to the settlement at Port Essington. All these circumstances, combined with the very slender means which had enabled the young and enthusiastic explorer to succeed, threw around Leichhardt's reputation a glamour, which, fortunately for his reputation, the mystery surrounding the total and absolute disappearance of himself and party, in 1848, has deepened, and kept alive until this day.

Leichhardt added a long string of discoveries to his name during this one trip, and had his other attempts been as successful in proportion, he would have taken the first place in the history of Australian discovery, but it was not to be so, and on this undoubtedly fruitful expedition his fame now stands.

Before Leichhardt's return, Sir Thomas Mitchell had started on his long-delayed journey, which, in the main, had the same purpose in view as Leichhardt's. This expedition had been long talked of. In 1841, communications between Governor Gipps and Captain Sturt had taken place on the subject, and in December of the same year, Eyre, not long back from his journey to King George's Sound, wrote, offering his services. [See Appendix.] To this the Governor replied that he would be glad to avail himself of Mr. Eyre's services, provided that no prior claim to the post was advanced by Captain Sturt. He also desired Eyre's views as to the expense of the party.

Eyre estimated that the sum of five thousand pounds would, he thought, be sufficient to fully cover every expense, including the hire of a vessel (to meet the party on the north coast), and the payment of the wages of the men and the salaries of the surveyor and draughtsman. But the colony was not in a mood to indulge in such expense, and nothing was done just then.

In 1843, Major Mitchell submitted A plan of exploration to the Governor, who promised to consult the Legislative Council who approved, and voted a sum of one thousand pounds towards the expenses. The Governor referred the matter to Lord Stanley, who gave a favourable reply; but still the matter was delayed.

In the beginning of the following year (1844), Eyre again made an offer of his services, intimating that now the altered circumstances of the colony would allow it to be carried through at a much cheaper rate. His offer was, however, declined, on account of the Surveyor-General, to whom the honour rightfully belonged, being in the field.

In 1845, the Council increased the exploration fund to two thousand pounds, and Sir George Gipps instructed Major Mitchell to start.

The views of Sir Thomas were in favour of obtaining a road to the foot of the Gulf, instead of Port Essington, on account of reducing the land journey considerably, and also there being such a reasonable probability that a large river would be found flowing northward into it.

In a letter which the Surveyor-General received from Mr. Walter Bagot [See Appendix.] about this time, mention is made of the blacks reporting a large river west of the Darling, running to the north or north-west. As, however, the natives do not seem very clear in their knowledge of the difference between flowing from and flowing to, it was probable that Cooper's Creek, not then discovered by Sturt, was the foundation of the legend, or possibly the Paroo.

During the earlier part of the year, Commissioner Mitchell (a son of Sir Thomas) made an exploration towards the Darling, and the discoveries of the Narran, the Balonne, and the Culgoa have been attributed to him; but, as will be seen by Bagot's letter, they were known to the settlers a year before; no special interest beyond this is to be found in the narrative of the journey.

On the 15th of December, 1845, Sir Thomas Mitchell started from Buree, his old point of departure, at the head of the small army with which he was once more going to vanquish the wilderness. Mounted videttes, barometer carrier, carter, and pioneer, etc., etc., were amongst the list of his subordinates. Well might poor Leichhardt say, when thinking over his slender resources:—

"Believe me, that one experienced and courageous bushman is worth more than the eight soldiers Sir Thomas intends to take with him. They will be an immense burthen, and of no use."

But Sir Thomas thought otherwise; without soldiers he considered that certain failure awaited the rash explorer; discipline and method were the sheet anchors of his exploratory existence, every tent in his camp was pitched by line, and every dray had its station. With the fated Kennedy as second, and Mr. W. Stephenson as surgeon and collector, he had also with him twenty-eight men, eight bullock drays, three horse drays, and two boats; and thus accompanied, he marched to the north.

Sir Thomas Mitchell struck the Darling much higher than Fort Bourke, the state of the country at this time of the year rendering this change in his plan needful. It was not until he was across the Darling that he was outside the settled districts, so rapidly had the country been stocked since last he was there, and even then he was on territory that his son had lately explored.