Journals Of Two Expeditions Of Discovery In North West And Western Australia Volume 1 (Of 2), George Grey [robert munsch read aloud txt] 📗

Of My Not Succeeding I Should Be Certain,  If On My Arrival At

Leschenault No Tidings Had Been Received Of Mr. Elliott,  That His Party

Must Be Somewhere To The Southward And Eastward Of The Course I Had

Taken,  And That I Might Still,  By The Assistance Of The Leschenault

Natives To Whom This Country Was Known,  Succeed In Finding Him Before

Such A Period Had Elapsed As Would Render Assistance Useless.

 

Killing A Kangaroo.

 

On The 19th,  In Pursuance Of This Determination,  We Made A Rapid Push Of

Nearly Twenty Miles In A Westerly Direction Without Reckoning Our

Divergencies To The Southward. Nothing However But Toil And

Disappointment Rewarded Our Exertions. We Killed A Large Boomer,  Or Old

Male Kangaroo,  The Largest Indeed I Had Ever Seen; The Dogs Were Unable

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To Master Him He Fought So Desperately,  And It Was Not Until After He Had

Wounded Two Of Them That I Succeeded In Dispatching It By A Sort Of

Personal Encounter In Which A Club Was The Weapon I Used. The Native Who

Was Carrying My Gun Had Dropped It The Instant The Kangaroo Was Started,

And I Was Thus Unable To Shoot It. We Cut Off As Much Of The Flesh As The

Dogs And Ourselves Required For Two Days And Left The Rest In The Forest.

We Halted For The Night On A Small Stream,  The Only One I Had Seen Since

We Quitted The Williams.

 

Country Upon The Harvey River.

 

Our Departure Was Delayed On The Morning Of The 20th For About An Hour

From Being Unable To Find One Of The Horses Which Had Strayed Away In The

Night,  But,  The Fugitive Being At Length Discovered And Brought Back,  We

Started And Made Nine Miles Before Breakfast. We Then Travelled Nine And

A Half Miles More,  When We Came Upon The River Harvey Near Its Source.

The Character Of The Country We Had Travelled Over Since Entering The

Mountains Was Monotonous In The Extreme. It Consisted Of An Elevated

Tableland Composed Of Ironstone And Granite Occasionally Traversed By

Veins Of Whinstone. On This Tableland There Was Little Or No Herbage; The

Lower Vegetation Consisting Principally Of A Short Prickly Scrub,  In Some

Places Completely Destroyed By The Native Fires; But The Whole Country

Was Thickly Clothed With Mahogany Trees,  So That In Many Parts It Might

Be Called A Dense Forest. These Mahogany Trees Ascended,  Without A Bend

Or Without Throwing Off A Branch,  To The Height Of From Forty To Fifty

Feet,  Occasionally Much More,  And The Ground Was So Encumbered By The

Fallen Trunks Of These Forest Trees That It Was Sometimes Difficult To

Pick A Passage Between Them. Even At Midday The Forest Wore A Sombre

Aspect,  And A Stillness And Solitude Reigned Throughout It That Was Very

Striking. Occasionally A Timid Kangaroo Might Be Seen Stealing Off In The

Distance,  Or A Kangaroo-Rat Might Dart Out From A Tuft Beneath Your Feet;

But These Were Rare Circumstances. The Most Usual Disturber Of These

Wooded Solitudes Were The Black Cockatoos; But I Have Never In Any Part

Of The World Seen So Great A Want Of Animal Life As In These Mountains.

 

Upon Our Gaining The Harvey However The Scene Somewhat Changed; The River

Here Bore The Appearance Of A Mountain Trout-Stream,  Sometimes Gurgling

Along With A Rapid Current,  And Sometimes Forming Large Pools. The

Tableland Could No Longer Be Distinguished As It Here Changed To A Broken

Chain Of Hills Traversed By Deep Valleys; The Scrub Was Higher And

Entwined By A Variety Of Climbing Plants,  Which Rendered It Very

Difficult To Traverse; The Mahogany Trees Became Less Frequent,  And

Various Others Were Mingled With Them,  Whilst On The Banks Of The River

Good Forage Abounded. We Made About Five Miles More Through A Country Of

This Description And Then Halted For The Night.

 

Lose The Tracks. Native Grave.

 

January 21.

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We Did Not Make More Than Seven Miles Before Breakfast This Morning,

Being Embarrassed Both By High And Tangled Underwood And Rocky Hills. We

Then Halted On The Banks Of The Harvey,  Where There Was Some Beautiful

Grass. We Had Still Been Able To Find Nothing Of Mr. Elliott's Tracks,

And Had In Vain Looked For Natives: But This Evening,  Soon After Starting

Again,  For The First Time Signs Of Them Appeared,  For We Found A

Newly-Made Grave,  Carefully Constructed,  With A Hut Built Over It To

Protect The Now Senseless Slumberer Beneath From The Rains Of Winter. All

That Friendship Could Do To Render His Future State Happy Had Been Done.

His Throwing Stick Was Stuck In The Ground At His Head; His Broken Spears

Rested Against The Entrance Of The Hut,  The Grave Was Thickly Strewed

With Wilgey Or Red Earth; And Three Trees In Front Of The Hut,  Chopped

With A Variety Of Notches And Uncouth Figures And Then Daubed Over With

Wilgey,  Bore Testimony That His Death Had Been Bloodily Avenged.

 

Kaiber's Fears.

 

The Native Kaiber Gazed With A Degree Of Concern And Uneasiness On This

Scene. "A Man Has Been Slain Here," He Said. "And What,  Kaiber," I Asked

Him,  "Is The Reason That These Spears Are Broken,  That The Trees Are

Notched,  And That Wilgey Is Strewed On The Grave?" His Answer Was,

"Neither You Nor I Know: Our People Have Always Done So,  And We Do So

Now." I Then Said To Him,  "Kaiber,  I Intend To Stop Here For The Night,

And Sleep." "You Are Deceiving Me," He Said: "I Cannot Rest Here,  For

There Are Many Spirits In This Place." I Laughed At His Fears,  And We

Again Moved On.

 

Want Of Water.

 

We Now Soon Got Clear Of The Hills And Came Out Upon A Plain Of Good

Land,  Thickly Covered With Grass-Trees. This Plain Was About Three Miles

In Width And,  Having Traversed It,  We Found Ourselves In A Sandy Country

Abounding With Banksia Trees. We Crossed Several Swamps,  Now Completely

Dried Up,  And Having Made Ten Miles Halted For The Night Without Water.

Mr. Walker Scraped A Hole In One Of These Swamps And Obtained A Little

Putrid And Muddy Water Which,  Not Being Very Thirsty,  I Did Not Drink,

More Especially As We Had Now,  Or Indeed For Several Days,  Had No Tea Or

Anything Else To Mix With It.

 

January 22.

 

We Started Again At Dawn This Morning And Travelled Rapidly,  For We Were

Anxious To Obtain Water. In Six Miles We Came Out Upon The Sea. If My

Reckoning Was Right We Ought Now To Have Been About Ten Miles To The

North Of Leschenault; I Therefore Turned Due South. Kaiber However Now

Came Up And Remonstrated Against This,  Assuring Me That I Was Wrong And

That We Were,  At This Moment,  Two Or Three Miles To The South Of

Leschenault,  And That If I Persisted In Going On In This Direction We

Should All Die For Want Of Water. As I Put Great Faith In His Knowledge

Of The Country I Halted And Ascended A Hill To Try And Get A View Along

The Coast; I Could Not However Succeed On Account Of The Haze; And

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Believing Then That I Must Be In Error I Turned North. We Trudged On,

Hour After Hour; The Sun Got Higher And More Intensely Hot,  Whilst,

Having Been Four-And-Twenty Hours Without Water,  The Greater Part Of

Which Time Had Been Spent In Violent Exercise Under A Burning Sun,  The

Pangs Of Thirst Became Very Annoying. A Short Period More Convinced Me

That I Was Right,  And That Kaiber Was In Error; And,  As We Soon After

Fell In With Two Native Wells Now Dried Up,  We Dug Another In A

Promising-Looking Spot Near Them,  And Obtained A Little Water,  Very Muddy

And Stinking; But I Never Enjoyed A Draught More In My Life. We Here

Halted For Breakfast And By Degrees Obtained Water Enough For The Horses

As Well As Ourselves.

 

Estuary Of The Leschenault.

 

The Evening Was Consumed In Retracing Our Steps Of The Morning,  And At

Night We Halted Near The Head Of The Leschenault Estuary,  Being Again

Without Water.

 

January 23.

 

Our Route This Morning Was Along The Estuary Of The Leschenault. About

Five Miles From This Place We Fell In With A Party Of Natives,  Who

Informed Us That A Few Days Before Mr. Elliott And Those With Him Had

Arrived There In Perfect Safety,  And My Anxiety On This Point Was

Therefore Set At Rest. We Passed The Mouth Of The River Collie At The

Bar,  Which Was Almost Dry,  And Halted For Breakfast On The Banks Of The

Preston,  About One Mile From The House Where I Expected To Find Mr.

Elliott.

 

Meet With Mr. Elliott. Mr. Elliott's Adventures.

 

No Sooner Was Breakfast Despatched Than I Set Off To See Mr. Elliott In

Order To Hear The History Of His Adventures,  Which Were Not A Little

Surprising. He Had,  As I Before Related,  Started On The 17th Of December

From The Williams,  With Only Three Days' Provisions And,  Owing To Some

Mistake,  Had Taken A South-South-West Course And Gone Off In The

Direction Where We First Saw His Tracks,  And Had Pursued This Route For

Three Days,  When,  Seeing Nothing Of The Coast,  He Suspected He Must Be

Wrong,  And Endeavoured To Make A Due West Course; But From The Impassable

Nature Of The Mountain Range At This Point Was Unable To Do So. About

This Period Also,  Owing To His Powder-Horn Having Been Placed Too Near

The Fire,  It Was Accidentally Blown Away,  And He Was Thus Left Totally

Without Protection In The Event Of Any Attack Being Made On Them By The

Natives. His Own Courage And Resolution However Never Failed,  And He

Still Made The Best Of His Way To The Southward,  Seizing Every

Opportunity Of Making Westing. For Twelve Days He Pursued This Course,

Subsisting On Native Roots And Boiled Tops Of Grass Trees. About The

Sixth Day He Fell In With Some Natives; But They Ran Away,  Being

Frightened At The Appearance Of White Men,  And He Thus Could Obtain No

Assistance From Them. At This Period The Filly Strayed Away From The Mare

And Was Lost. His Men Behaved Admirably; And On The Fourteenth Day The