Amongst these gentry was a convict named Daly, afterwards banged for burglary, who distinguished himself by instigating the first gold prospecting party in Australia. Having broken up a pair of brass buckles, he mixed the fragments with sand and stones, and represented the result as specimens of ore he had found. A party was sent out under his guidance to examine the locality, but, needless to say, failed in the endeavour, the perpetrator of the hoax confessing to it in the end, and suffering the punishment common at that period.

The discovery of the Hawkesbury River, in the year following the settlement, may be looked upon as the first effort emanating from the colony to push exploration to any appreciable distance.

On the 6th of June, 1789, Governor Phillip, accompanied by a large party in two boats, proceeded to Broken Bay. After spending some time without result, they pulled into an inlet, and suddenly found themselves at the entrance of a fresh-water river, up which they rowed twenty miles in a westerly direction, but provisions failing, they turned back.

A second expedition was then undertaken, and this time the boats penetrated between sixty and seventy miles, inclusive of the windings of the river. Further progress was stayed by a fall. The party examined the surrounding country, but opinions differed greatly as to its value; some reporting rich and beautiful land, others low-lying flats subject to floods. A hill close by the fall was ascended, and christened Richmond Hill, and the river was named the Hawkesbury.

On the 26th of the same month, Captain Tench, then in charge of the newly-formed outpost of Rose Hill, started on an expedition to the westward. He was accompanied by Mr. Arndell, assistant-surgeon of the settlement, Mr. Lowes, surgeon's mate of the SIRIUS, two marines, and a convict. His relation of his trip is interesting, as being the earliest record of land exploration, and also as containing the account of the discovery of the Nepean River. An extract from his journal runs as follows:—

"I left the redoubt at daybreak, pointing our march to a hill distant five miles, in a westerly or inland direction, which commands a view of the great chain of mountains called the Caermarthen Hills, extending from north to south farther than the eye can reach. Here we paused, surveying 'the wild abyss, pondering over our voyage.' Before us lay the trackless, immeasurable desert in awful silence. At length, after consultation, we determined to steer west and by north by compass, the make of the land indicating the existence of a river. We continued to march all day through a country untrodden before by an European foot. Save that a melancholy crow now and then flew croaking overhead, or a kangaroo was seen to bound at a distance, the picture of solitude was complete and undisturbed. At four o'clock in the afternoon we halted near a small pond of water, where we took up our residence for the night, lighted a fire, and prepared to cook our supper-that was to broil over a couple of ramrods a few slices of salt pork, and a crow which we had shot. At daylight we renewed our peregrination, and in an hour after, we found ourselves on the banks of a river nearly as broad as the Thames at Putney, and apparently of great depth, the current running very slowly in a northerly direction. Vast flocks of wild ducks were swimming in the stream, but, after being once fired at, they grew so shy that we could not get near them a second time. Nothing is more certain than that the sound of a gun had never before been heard within many a mile of this spot."

A short description of the hunting practices of the natives here follows, and the explorer then continues:—

"Having remained out three days, we returned to our quarters at Rose Hill with the pleasing intelligence of our discovery. The country we had passed through we found tolerably plain, and little encumbered with underwood, except near the riverside. It is entirely covered with the same sort of trees as grow near Sydney; and in some places grass springs up luxuriantly; other places are quite bare of it. The soil is various; in many places a stiff, arid clay, covered with small pebbles; in other places, of a soft, loamy nature; but invariably in every part near the river it is a coarse, sterile sand. Our observations on it (particularly mine, from carrying the compass with which we steered) were not so numerous as might have been wished. But, certainly, if the qualities of it be such as to deserve future cultivation, no impediment of surface but that of cutting down and burning the trees exists to prevent its being tilled.

"To this river the Governor gave the name of Nepean (after Captain Nepean, of the New South Wales corps). The distance of the part of the river which was first hit upon from the sea coast is about thirty-nine miles, in a direct line, almost due west."

In December, 1789, Governor Phillip dispatched a party, under Lieutenant Dawes, of the Marines, accompanied by Lieutenant Johnson and Mr. Lowes, to cross the Nepean and try to penetrate the range beyond. They discovered a ford in the river, and crossing, proceeded in a westerly direction. So rugged and difficult, however, did they find the country that in three days they had only covered fifteen miles. At a bill that they called Mount Twiss they turned back, having penetrated fifty-four miles in a direct line from the sea coast.

In August, 1790, Messrs. Tench, Dawes, and Morgan explored south and west of Rose Hill. They struck the Nepean higher up, nearer its source than on the former occasion, and remained out seven days, penetrating to a considerable distance in a south-west direction. Near the end of the same month, the same party made an excursion to the north-west of Rose Hill, and traced the Nepean to where it was first discovered by Tench's party in 1789.

In April, 1791, Governor Phillip, attended by a large company, numbering in all twenty-one persons, including two natives, set out on an expedition from Rose Hill to determine the identity, or not, of the Nepean and the Hawkesbury. On the 12th of the month they struck the river, and followed it down for some distance, but did not accomplish the object they had in view.

In the following month, however, Messrs. Tench, Dawes, and two soldiers, again went out, and settled the vexed question.

About this time, although scarcely to be included in the tale of exploration, a number of convicts made a desperate attempt to proceed overland to China. They, however, only managed a very short stage of the journey—namely, to Broken Bay. Here they were attacked by the natives, and returned in a demoralised condition to Rose Hill and gave themselves up.

The impression these deluded men set out under was, that at a considerable distance to the northward there was a large river which separated this country from China, and when it was crossed they would find themselves amongst a copper-coloured people, who would receive and treat them kindly.

In 1793, Captain Paterson, who had already had some experience as an African traveller, started on an expedition to the Caermarthen Hills (by this time beginning to be known as the Blue Mountains), intending, if possible, to cross the range, or at any rate, penetrate some distance into it, He was accompanied by Captain Johnstone, and Messrs. Palmer and Lang. The party was well equipped, and provisioned for six weeks. Pulling up the Hawkesbury, they left the heavy boats at the fall that had formerly stayed the progress of Governor Phillip, and taking two light ones with them, they tried to ascend higher up the river. They managed to reach ten miles beyond the furthest point ever before visited, and then, their boats having suffered some damage, and there being a slight fresh in the river, they returned. The highest part of the river where they were they named the "Grose," and Paterson, who was a botanist, discovered several new kinds of plants.

Another determined effort to cross the range that seemed to defy all the attempts of the colonists was made by quarter-master Hacking, in 1794. The party succeeded in pushing out twenty miles further than any European had been, but their report was unfavourable. They reached the foot of the range, and after climbing over some eighteen or twenty ridges, formed of little else but precipitous rocks, they saw before them nothing but the same savage and inaccessible country. Tier after tier of ranges rose in view, divided by abrupt and impassable chasms and gorges. The only natives they saw fled at their approach, and, saving for the presence of some large red kangaroos, little sign of animal life was met with. Away to both north and south, the same iron range could be traced, showing no prospect of gap or pass, and they returned dispirited. The colonists now began to look upon the Blue Mountains as their western limit, and the extension of settlement in that direction was regarded as chimerical.

The cattle that had escaped from the settlement had, with their usual instinct, wandered on until they had found suitable grazing land on the Nepean, and there had settled down. When discovered they had thriven well, and increased into a small herd. By the Governor's direction they were left unmolested, being but occasionally visited, and their run became known as the Cow Pastures.

Mr. Bass, the bold explorer of Bass Strait, in company with some other gentlemen, visited these pasture lands in 1797, and from Mount Taurus, on the Nepean River, took a straight course to the coast, where a whale boat was sent to meet them. Their .experience was of the usual kind. After leaving the fertile grazing lands appropriated by the cattle, they crossed a succession of barren ridges, gradually growing worse and worse until the sea was reached.

Bass had, before this, attempted to cross the range in 1796. His attempt was of the same character as all the others, failure and disappointment attending his steps, although the endeavour to obtain success was carried through, as might be expected, with his usual untiring energy and contempt for danger. It is sad to think that a career that opened so brilliantly should have been doomed to close miserably in the mines of South America.

Having become partially convinced that there was no high road to be found between Port Jackson and the Chinese Empire, some of the convicts (principally the Irish prisoners) became possessed with the notion that a colony of white people existed three or four hundred miles in the interior, south-west of the settlement. This tale, highly embellished, was sufficient to inflame the imaginations of men condemned to servitude, and panting for liberty. The existing rumour being found out by the authorities, it proved on investigation that so far had this preposterous legend gained ground that written instructions had been issued for guidance to this Arcadia, accompanied with a paper having the figure of a compass drawn on it. The Governor, wishing to save these foolish dupes from the punishment and probable loss of life that would necessarily ensue in carrying out such a wild project, wrote to a magistrate at Parramatta the following instructions. He was to go to Toongabbie, where most of these infatuated men were employed, and, knowing how impossible it would be to reason them out of their belief, he was to inform them that four picked men would be allowed to start out and satisfy themselves of the impossibility of any show of success attending their search, and that in order to ensure their safe return three experienced men would be sent as guides with them.

On receipt of this information so many assembled that stricter measures had to be taken, and sixteen of the number were arrested and sent to Sydney for punishment. Four men were then selected by the malcontents themselves, and were about to depart in search of the supposed colony when a treacherous plot was discovered. A scheme was on foot for a stronger party of convicts to abscond, and these meeting the explorers at a pre-arranged spot, should there murder the guides, and having possessed themselves of their weapons, the prisoners would be at liberty to prosecute their researches alone. Four soldiers were added to the party to resist any attempt of this sort, and on the 14th January, 1798, they left Parramatta in search of El Dorada.

Amongst the men chosen to act as guides was one James Wilson, who had for some time previously been living in the bush with the natives, and had even submitted to his body being marked and scarred after their fashion. On his return from this nomadic existence, he stated that he had traversed the country for nearly one hundred miles in every direction around the settlement, and discoursed at length upon having seen large tracts of open country, and many strange birds and animals, unknown to the settlers. His stories were for the most part discredited, but it was thought that his experiences would be most useful to the party, and he was therefore selected.

Ten days after the explorers left, the soldiers returned with three of the delegates. On reaching the foot of the mountains, where it was arranged that the soldiers were to leave the party and return home, these three men were so thoroughly tired of their quest, and convinced of their folly, that they had begged to be allowed to go back.

On the 9th February the remainder of the expedition reached Prospect Hill more dead than alive. Wilson alone had kept heart, and managed to sustain the flagging spirits of his companions sufficiently to enable them to stagger in to the settlement.

Their report of the surroundings of the colony contained little more than what was already known or guessed at. They described the country passed over as alternating between barren, rocky ridges and spacious meadows. Running creeks had been crossed, and they turned back on the bank of a river which they described as being as large as the Hawkesbury, with level country in view on the opposite side.

They had seen but few natives, and those they saw were clothed in skins from head to foot. Amongst other novelties they had noticed the blue-gum trees, the mountain wallaroo, which had drawn their attention from being larger and fatter than those formerly familiar to them, a kind of pheasant, as they described it, now known as the lyre-bird, a specimen of which the brought back with them, and a kind of mole, the modern wombat, one of which formed their last meal before reaching the settlement. These accounts corroborated the former reports made by Wilson. This expedition was, however, of not much service from a geographical point of view, from the unreliability of the course kept.

The party also reported coming across a hill of salt, and in the month of March, Henry Hacking was sent out to inspect it. He was accompanied by Wilson and another man, who were supplied with provisions and directed to penetrate as far into the country as their supplies would permit. Hacking found that several veins of salt existed, and the two men stated that they had succeeded in getting 140 miles S.W. by W. from Prospect Hill. During their journey they had travelled over many varieties of country, crossing a number of narrow creeks and rivers with which the land was intersected. They passed through much promising country and much that was unpromising. From the summits of some of the higher hills that they ascended, they had extensive views to the westward, and as usual, saw mountain rising upon mountain in that direction. They brought back another specimen of the lyre-bird.

In the year '97 preceding this trip, some convicts had boarded and seized a colonial-built boat, called the CUMBERLAND, during her passage to the Hawkesbury. The crew were landed at Pitt Water, and making their way from there overland gave information of the piracy. Two boats under Lieutenant Shortland started in pursuit. One returned in a few days, but Shortland with the other went as far north as Port Stephens without, however, seeing anything of the pirates. His voyage was not by any means destitute of result, as on his return he found a river; "into which he carried three fathoms of water in the shoalest part of its entrance, finding deep water and good anchorage within. The entrance of this river was but narrow, and covered by a high rocky island, lying right off, so as to leave a good passage round the north end of the island between that and the shore. A reef connects the south part of the island with the south shore of the entrance of the river. In this harbour was found a very considerable quantity of coal of a very good sort, and lying so near the water's side as to be conveniently shipped; which gave it, in this particular, manifest advantage over that discovered to the southward. Some specimens of this coal were brought up in the boat." In the foregoing description, the Hunter River and the present harbour of Newcastle will be easily recognised.

In July, of the year '99, Flinders was instructed by the Governor to examine the two large openings marked by Cook on the east coast, namely, Glass House Bay and Hervey Bay. Glass House Bay—now Moreton Bay—was so called after some remarkable peaks that were visible on the north side. These peaks Captain Flinders made an excursion to examine, and from the summit of one obtained an extended view over the surrounding country, nothing novel, however, being seen. At Hervey's Bay, too, the only additional information gained, was of a nautical character, the natives seeming to be the most interesting objects met with.

Wilson, whose career amongst the natives, and as an explorer is most notable, now met his death in a sufficiently tragic, if appropriate, manner. This man had served the term of his transportation, and both as a convict and a free man had passed a great part of his time wandering through the bush with the aboriginals. He had been suspected, justly or unjustly, of prompting the blacks to attack the settlers; aiding them with his knowledge of the habits of the whites, and the best season for carrying out their designs. At any rate, his long intercourse with the natives had rendered him careless of consequences, and a flagrant violation of their customs led to his being speared.

During the governorship of Captain King, Ensign Barraillier came to the front as an explorer. He was notably an accurate and painstaking surveyor, and although his expeditions were circumscribed by the ever present barrier of the Blue Mountains, he was evidently an indefatigable worker in the cause of science. From a letter of Governor King's, addressed to Sir Joseph Banks in May, 1803, we learn something of Barraillier, and also of the petty private squabbles that prevailed amongst the colonists, even in the highest quarters. Governor King writes:—

"As our maritime surveying is now turned over to Captain Flinders, who has the LADY NELSON with him, by the Admiralty's direction, I had begun making discoveries in the interior by means of Ensign Barraillier. He has been one journey, and went twenty miles from the first range of hills, till his further course was interrupted by a river running north, which is a curious circumstance, being in the mountains. He described it as wide as the Thames at Kingston. Some native iron he found, and also an imperfect limestone, and the dung of an unknown animal. Samples of everything he there found will be sent by the GREENWICH (whaler), and I did hope to have been able to add something farther from another journey he was about undertaking, and for which purpose I had established a chain of depots of provisions, to further his return.

"Cayley is just gone on an excursion, and you will see by his letters he is undertaking a still longer one. As he keeps all his knowledge to himself, I am hopeful you are benefited by it, and I hope much good will result from his journeys, which he is now determined on persevering in. I informed you of the refusal he gave me and Mr. Brown to his going in the INVESTIGATOR."

George Cayley was a botanist sent out by Sir Joseph Banks to collect for Kew Gardens. He was industrious and painstaking in his vocation, but sadly overburdened with vanity. He made one important journey to the Blue Mountains, with the usual result. He erected a cairn of stones at the furthest point he reached, which Governor Macquarie afterwards christened "Cayley's Repulse."

To return to Barraillier. Governor King, in the same, letter, further writes:—

"I have informed you in my several letters of the great use Ensign Barraillier, of the New South Wales Corps, was to me and the public. First, in going to the southward, and surveying the coast from Wilson's Promontory to Western Port, next, in surveying. Hunter's River, where he went twice, and since then in making useful observations about the settlement, and in making a partial journey to the mountains, which was introductory to his undertaking the journey he afterwards performed, but which I was obliged to effect by a ruse, as Col. Paterson had very ill-naturedly informed me that officers being at all detached from their regimental duty was contrary to some instructions he had from the Duke of York. In consequence I was obliged to give up his services after this unhandsome claim, but claimed him as my AIDE-DE-CAMP, and that the object of discovery should not be relinquished, I sent him on an embassy to the King of the Mountains."

This idea of an embassy to the King of the Mountains is about as unique an incident in the history of exploration as can be imagined. Whether Barraillier reached this fancied potentate or not we are left in ignorance. Governor King says:—

"He was gone six weeks, and penetrated one hundred and thirty-seven miles among the mountains beyond the Nepean. His journal being wrote in such an unintelligible hand, I have not been able to get it translated or copied, but have sent it open under your address to Lord Hobart. . . . I have not had time to decipher and read it, but am satisfied from what M. Barraillier has done and seen, that passing these barriers, if at all practicable, is of no great moment to attempt any further at present, as it is now well ascertained that the cattle have not, nor cannot, make any progress to the westward, unless they find a passage to the northward or southward of those extensive and stupendous barriers. I intend sending M. Barraillier to Port Jarvis very soon, to penetrate into the interior from thence, if Col. Paterson is not advised to prevent it."

From this it will plainly be seen how completely the colonists had given themselves up to the dominion of the overshadowing range that stayed their western progress. It required the stern hand of necessity to compel them to at last force that "stupendous barrier," as King terms it.

Meanwhile, the presence of the French ships under Baudin, had created uneasiness in Governor King's mind, rumour and gossip had magnified their intentions into a sinister claim being about to be established upon Van Dieman's Land or the south coast of New Holland. In 1802, King had sent home to Sir Joseph Banks his idea of the importance of King's Island, and the adjacent harbour of Port Phillip.

"Port Phillip is also a great acquisition, and as I have urged the fixing of a settlement in the latter place, I am anxious to begin it, but unfortunately I have no person I can send there equal to the charge. Policy certainly requires our having a settlement in these Straits."

No lack of zeal for the future supremacy of the British flag in these seas can be charged upon the founders of the colony, in fact, Governor King sent a small schooner under command of a midshipman after M. Baudin, with secret orders to watch their movements, and, if necessary, hoist the King's colours and land a corporal's guard at any place where the French appeared likely to make a demonstration.

Port Phillip was discovered by Lieutenant Murray, of the Lady Nelson, in 1802. Surveyor-General Grimes went there with him, and during the survey he made, is reported to have camped on the spot where Melbourne now stands. The port was discovered three times independently in the same year. First by Murray, next by Baudin, and again by Flinders. Colonel Collins, formerly of Norfolk Island, was dispatched in the year that Governor King wrote his letter (1803) to found a township. He at once declared the country unfit for settlement, with scarcely any examination; and it was immediately abandoned in favour of Van Dieman's Land.

The results of efforts at inland discovery were now but slight. Flinders on the south coast had sailed up Spencer's Gulf, and from Mount Brown at the head a fine view was obtained, but nothing more.

"Neither rivers nor lakes could be perceived, nor anything of the sea to the south-eastward. In almost every direction the eye traversed over an uninterruptedly flat, woody country; the sole exceptions being the ridge of mountains extending north and south, and the water of the gulph to the south-westward."

Compared with the great size of the island continent, it will be seen that but an insignificant portion had, by the end of the eighteenth century come under the sway of colonisation. The rivers Hawkesbury, Nepean, and Grose, with other minor tributaries in the neighbourhood of Sydney. To the north, the river Hunter, and to the south, the district now known as the Illawarra. This was the sum total of the known country inside the coastal line; and with all the wish to extend their knowledge of their wide domain, the administrative demands of the little colony pressed too heavily on the authorities to permit them to devote much time to extended exploration.



CHAPTER II.



The great drought of 1813—The development of country by stocking— Blaxland, Lawson, and Wentworth cross the Blue Mountains—Reach the head of coast waters and return—Surveyor Evans sent out—Crosses the watershed and finds the Macquarie River—Construction of road over the range—Settlement of Bathurst—Visit of Governor Macquarie—Second expedition under Evans—Discovery of the Lachlan River—Surveyor-General Oxley explores the Lachlan—Finds the river terminates in swamps—Returns by the Macquarie—His opinion of the interior—Second expedition down the Macquarie—Disappointment again—Evans finds the Castlereagh—Liverpool Plains discovered—Oxley descends the range and finds Port Macquarie— Returns to Newcastle-Currie and Ovens cross the Morumbidgee—Brisbane Downs and Monaroo—Hume and Hovell cross to Port Phillip—Success of the expedition.

The first ten years of the present century were singularly devoid of excursions inland. The strip of country between the range and the sea, sufficing for the immediate wants of the settlers, and the discovery of the Hunter River having opened so much new country for their use, no actual necessity compelled them at this period to go further a-field. This lack of urgent need, combined with the bad success that had attended all efforts to penetrate the mountains, had somewhat damped the ardour of the colonists.

But throughout these years the stock steadily increased, and the severe drought in 1813 led some of the settlers to make another attempt to find out new pasture lands.

The victory that at last crowned the struggle may be said to have at once inaugurated a new phase of exploration The days of expeditions on foot, when each man carried his own supply of provisions, and the limit of their journey only extended a little over a hundred miles, were past. Horses were now destined to play an important part in the outfit of the explorer, and take their share of sacrificing their lives in the cause.

The results gained by these first journeys were far from promising; always hoping to find a navigable river, or rivers, through the interior, the colonists found themselves most unexpectedly baffled. Having discovered the head waters of large streams flowing on a western course, with a sufficient depth of water for boat navigation, it appeared conclusive that to follow them down would in course of time lead the party doing so to the sea; the only probable obstacle which would come in the way would be falls. But the rivers led them into shallow stagnant swamps, with no limit within ken; the outskirts, so they deemed, of an inland sea.

Across here Oxley wrote, DESERT; unfitted ever to sustain settlement, and in doing this he did not err more glaringly than many later pioneers. It must be borne in mind that the characteristics of the inland plain were all new to the travellers who first ventured to enter its confines. They had not won the key of the desert; the fashion in which nature adapted herself to climatic decrees was a lesson still to be learnt. Oxley spoke honestly when, in bitter disappointment, he prophesied the future of the great plain to be that of an unprofitable waste, wherein the work of men's hands and the cunning of their brains would avail nothing; but he spoke hastily and almost thoughtlessly. The great plain had its glorious mission to fulfil, but the secret, like all things worth knowing, was one that took time and labour to solve; not in one or two generations was it to be done.

There was one great factor in the reclamation of the desert that Oxley could not take into his calculations—for he did not know its power—the sure, if gradual change wrought by stocking. Under the ceaseless tread of myriad hoofs, the loose, open soil was to become firm and hard, whilst fresh growths of herb and grass followed the footsteps of the invading herds. The shaking bogs and morasses were to become solidified, and the waters that permeated them to retreat into well defined chains of ponds and lagoons. This the first explorer could not foresee, he was disheartened by what he found, and unwitting of the change that was to follow he gave a hostile verdict. But although it did not fall to his lot to trace out the great system of the Murray watershed, he had, at any rate, the proud satisfaction of achieving the first stage.

Governor Macquarie, whose name has been sown broadcast over so much of New South Wales, was a man bent on the development of the colony as rapidly as possible, and although the defects in his administration have been severely criticised, exploration received at his hands every encouragement, and during his tenure of office, the first steps were taken to open up the vast field of inland discovery. We must now remember that the adaptability of the country to pastoral occupation was fully recognised. The days when famine was imminent if the fleet from England did not duly arrive had passed away. The future of the colony was assured, provided fresh outlets could be opened up.

In 1813, the prolonged drought to which the little settlement had been subjected, led to a most serious view being taken of the future. The stock had now attained dimensions, when the yearly increase was something considerable, compared to the narrow strip of grazing lands that supported the herds. It was an evident necessity to find fresh territory speedily, or great loss would inevitably ensue. Three of the settlers interested in stock-breeding, made another attempt to cross the range during this year. They were: William Charles Wentworth, whose name is so familiar to Australians, Lieutenant Lawson, of the Royal Veteran Company, and Mr. Gregory Blaxland. They crossed the Nepean at Emu Plains, and attempted to follow up a main spur forming the watershed of the Grose, and for a time successfully pursued its twists and windings, keeping to the crown of the ridge. At last, like all their predecessors, they began to get entangled in the intricate net-work of deep gullies that rendered straightforward travelling so difficult in this region. Like them, they commenced to think advance impossible, and to speak of turning back. Passages had to be cut through the thick brushwood for their pack horses, circuitous roads found around steeps too precipitous to scale, and the purpose of the journey seemed hopelessly lost. They had succeeded in crossing the first outwork of the mountains, but the Main Range had yet to be won. At length they fortunately hit upon a dividing spur, leading to the westward, and this they perseveringly followed, until they were rewarded by reaching the summit, and seeing below them a comparatively open valley, and beyond, chains of hills, broken it is true, but only trifling compared to what they had passed over. It was a work of time and much labour to gain access to this valley. The mountain they had ascended was steep and rugged, and great care had to be exercised in descending. But fatigue was not much thought of with their hopes so happily fulfilled.

At the bottom of the valley they found a running stream and good pasture, beyond this point they proceeded about six or eight miles in order to ascertain the extent of their discoveries, and then returned, having been absent one month.

The creek found by Blaxland and party was one of the tributaries of the Nepean, so that granted that a range had been crossed, access had been only obtained to the higher waters of a coast river. But although this important journey fell short of one of the great aims of western exploration, namely the discovery of a river flowing to the west, it was the immediate cause of the expedition being undertaken that led to the finding of the Macquarie.

George William Evans, Deputy-Surveyor of Lands, can certainly claim the honour of first discovering an Australian inland river; but Blaxland and his companions led the way across the hardest portion of the course.

As may well be believed, the tidings brought back by the exploring party created great excitement in the small community. No longer would the mountainous barrier frown defiance at them; for over thirty years it had successfully resisted all their attempts, but its time had come; the march to the west had at last commenced. On receipt of the news, Governor Macquarie sent out Mr. Evans with a party to at once follow up this discovery and find out what lay beyond. Evans crossed the Nepean on the 20th of November, and in six days arrived at the spot where the last party had turned back. Striking westward, he found a broken, hilly country, which was, however, well grassed and watered, presenting little hindrance to his progress, and on the 30th of the month, he struck the head of a stream holding a distinctly western course. Following this down, he found it joined by another from the south, and below the junction he gave the new found river the name of the Macquarie.

So promising was the country that he continued his course until the 18th December, when finding the river, now of a fair magnitude, still flowing steadily north-west, and not being prepared for a very prolonged absence, he turned back and retraced his steps, arriving at the Nepean on the 8th January, 1814. Strange to say, during the whole time of his absence in this hitherto untrodden waste, the only natives seen by the party were four women and two children.

This most successful termination of the work commenced by Messrs. Blaxland, Lawson, and Wentworth, and the confirmation of the hopes that had been entertained, led to more active steps being at once initiated.

Mr. Cox was entrusted with the superintendence of the work of constructing a public road across the range, following much the same route as that taken by the first explorers; and this work was completed early in the year 1815, and on the 26th April of the same year the Governor and a large staff set out to visit the new territory, and arrived there on the 4th May.

Meantime, Mr. Evans was again sent out to the south-west, and once more he was successful, returning with tidings of the discovery of the Lachlan River. He was absent nearly a month, and met the Governor and suite on their arrival at Bathurst Plains.

The course of the Lachlan being nearly due west, it was selected as the most likely river of the two to lead immediately to the navigable waters of the interior, which everybody now firmly believed in; but a delay of nearly two years occurred before an expedition was formed to carry into effect the purpose of following it down with boats.

Meantime, the settlers took every advantage of this new outlet for their energies. Cattle and sheep were pushed out, and some of the land put under tillage. Buildings rapidly sprang up, and, favoured by a beautiful site, the township of Bathurst soon presented an orderly appearance. Private enterprise had also been at work elsewhere, and the early pioneer graziers were now making south from the settlement towards the Shoalhaven River and the intermediate country. It was down here that young Hamilton Hume, the first native-born explorer to take the field, was then gaining his bushcraft. Hume was a son of the Rev. Andrew Hume, who held an appointment in the Commissariat Department, and came to the colony in the LADY JULIAN.

The future explorer was born at Parramatta in 1797, so that he was but seventeen when, in 1814, he made his maiden effort in the country around Berrima, in company with his brother and a black boy; and-in the year following he again made an excursion in this district. In 1816 his father conducted Dr. Throsby to new country that the energy of his sons had discovered; and in March, 1817, at the time when Oxley was about starting on his Lachlan expedition, Hume, at the request of Governor Macquarie, went with Mr. Surveyor Meehan and Mr. Throsby on an expedition as far as the Shoalhaven River. Here, in consequence of some dispute with Mr. Meehan, Mr. Throsby left the party, and, accompanied by a black boy, made his way to Port Jarvis.

Meehan and Hume continued their journey, and discovered Lake George, Lake Bathurst, and the country called Goulburn Plains.

But the trip undertaken by Mr. Oxley at this time, leading as it did to such unexpected results, claims our first attention. As the party were to take boats with them, boat builders were sent up to Bathurst, thence to proceed to the river and build the necessary craft. A depot having been formed on the Lachlan River, on the 6th of April, 1817, Mr. Oxley left Sydney to join his party there, and arrived at this depot on the 25th of the same month, having been detained a short time at Bathurst. On the 1st of May, Mr. Oxley reached the limit of Mr. Evans' journey in 1815, a small creek which they christened Byrne Creek; from here the work of exploration commenced.

The following is a list of the men comprising, this, the first most important expedition in the annals of exploration:—

"John Oxley, chief of the expedition; George William Evans, second in command; Allan Cunningham, King's botanist; Charles Fraser, colonial botanist; William Parr, mineralogist; George Hubbard, boat builder; James King, 1st boatman and sailor; James King, 2nd horseshoer; William Meggs, butcher; Patrick Byrne, guide and horse leader; William Blake, harness mender; George Simpson, for chaining with surveyors; William Warner, servant to Mr. Oxley."

They had with them two boats and fourteen bat (pack) and riding horses.

Following the bank of the river the party met with no obstruction to their progress for twelve days, save the usual accidents and delays incidental to travelling in an unexplored region. Oxley's opinion of the value of the new district had, as is evident from his journal, been steadily decreasing since leaving the depot. The flatness of the country, the numerous branches of the river and the want of height visible in its banks, seemingly depressed him very much. On the 6th of May he writes:—

"I have reason to believe that the whole of the extensive tract of country, named Princess Charlotte's Crescent" (about 130 miles west of Bathurst), "is at times drowned by the overflowing of the river; the marks of floods were observed in all directions, and the waters in the marshes and lagoons were all traced as being derived from the river. During a course of upwards of seventy miles, not a single running stream emptied itself into the river on either side; and, I am forced to conclude, that in common seasons this whole tract is extremely badly watered, and that it derives its principal, if not only supply, from the river within the bounding ranges of Princess Charlotte's Crescent. There are doubtless many small eminences which might afford a retreat from the inundations, but those which were observed by us were too trifling and distant from each other to stand out distinct from the vast level surface which the crescent presents to the view. The soil of the country we passed over was a poor and cold clay; but there are many rich levels which, could they be drained and defended from the inundations of the river, would amply repay the cultivation. These flats are certainly not adapted for cattle; the grass is too swampy, and the bushes, swamps, and lagoons are too thickly intermingled with the better portions, to render it a safe or desirable grazing country. The timber is universally bad and small; a few misshapen gum trees on the immediate banks of the river may be considered as exceptions."

On the 12th of May, their, as yet, uninterrupted course down the river received an abrupt check.

"We had scarcely proceeded a mile from the last branch before it became evident that it would be impossible to advance farther in the direction in which we were travelling. The stream here overflowed both banks, and its course was lost among marshes, its channel not being distinguishable from the surrounding waters.

"Observing an eminence about half a mile from the south side, we crossed over the horses and baggage" (by aid of the boats) "at a place where the water was level with the banks, and which, when within its usual channel, did not exceed thirty or forty feet in width; its depth even now being only twelve feet.

"We ascended the hill, and had the mortification to perceive the termination of our research, at least down this branch of the river. The whole country from the west, north-west, round to the north, was either a complete marsh or lay under water, and this for a distance of twenty-five or thirty miles in those directions. To the south and south-west the country appeared more elevated, but low, marshy grounds lay between us and it, which rendered it impossible for us to proceed thither from our present situation. I therefore determined to return back to the place where the two branches of the principal river separated, and follow the south-west branch as far as it should be navigable. Our fears were, however, stronger than our hopes, lest it would end in a similar manner to, the one we had already traced, until it became no longer navigable for boats.

"In pursuance of this intention we descended the hill, which was named Farewell Hill, from its being the termination of our journey in a north-west direction, at least for the present, and proceeded up the south bank of the stream."

The investigation of the south-west branch proving equally unsatisfactory, Oxley determined to leave the river and strike for the coast in the neighbourhood of Cape Northumberland, anticipating that on this course he would intersect any river rising in these marshes and falling into the sea between Spencer's Gulf and Cape Otway. The boats were hauled up on the south bank and secured, together with such articles as they could not take with them; and at nine o'clock on May 18th, the journey to the coast commenced.

From having too much water the party now found themselves straitened for want of it, and the journey, too, began to tell upon the horses. Thick scrubs of eucalyptus brush, overrun with creepers and prickly acacia bushes, soon helped to bar the way, and when they at last reached the point of a range, which they named Peel Range, Oxley reluctantly abandoned his idea of making for the coast in a south-west direction, and turned north. Wearily he writes:—

"June 4. Weather as usual fine and clear, which is the greatest comfort we enjoy in these deserts abandoned by every living creature capable of getting out of them. I was obliged to send the horses back to our former halting place for water, a distance of near eight miles this is terrible for the horses, who are in general extremely reduced but two in particular cannot, I think, endure this miserable existence much longer.

"At five o'clock, two men whom I had sent to explore the country to the south-west and see if any water could be found, returned after proceeding six or seven miles; they found it impossible to go any farther in that direction or even south, from the thick bushes that intersected their course on every side; and no water (nor, in fact, the least sign of any) was discovered either by them or by those who were sent in search of it nearer our little camp."

* * * * *

"June 5. From everything I can see of the country to the south-west, it appears, upon the most mature deliberation, highly imprudent to persevere longer in that direction, as the consequences to the horses of want of grass and water might be most serious; and we are well assured that within forty miles on that point the country is the same as before passed over. In adopting a north-westerly course, it is my intention to be entirely guided by the possibility of procuring subsistence for the horses, that being the main point on which all our ulterior proceedings must hinge. It is, however, to be expected that as the country is certainly lower to the west and north-west than from south-east to south-west, there is a greater probability of finding water in this latter direction. In our present perplexing situation, however, it is impossible to lay down any fixed plan, as (be it what it may) circumstances after all must guide us. Our horses are unable to go more than eight or ten miles a day, but even then they must be assured of finding food, of which, in these deserts, the chances are against the existence.

"Yesterday being the King's birthday, Mr. Cunningham planted under Mount Brogden acorns, peach and apricot stones, and quince seeds, with the hope, rather than the expectation, that they would grow and serve to commemorate the day and situation, should these desolate plains be ever again visited by civilised man, of which, however, I think there is very little probability.

"June 6. A mild pleasant morning: set forward on our journey to the westward and north-west, in hopes of finding a better country."

* * * * *

"June 8th. The whole country in these directions, as far as the eye could reach, was one continued thicket of eucalyptus scrub. It was physically impossible to proceed that way, and our situation was too critical to admit of delay; it was therefore resolved to return back to our last station on the 6th, under Peel's Range, if for no other purpose than that of giving the horses water. I felt that by attempting to proceed westerly I should endanger the safety of every man composing the expedition, without any practical good arising from such perseverance, It was therefore deemed more prudent to keep along the base of Peel's Range to its termination, having some chance of finding water in its rocky ravines, whilst there was none at all in attempting to keep the level country."

We have now seen how Oxley, prevented from following the river down by an overflow amongst the marshes, turned south-west, only to be driven back by impenetrable scrubs and general aridity. He struck north, with the hope of shortly regaining the too well watered country he had left. The fixed idea of the utterly useless nature of the country is ever present in his mind as he proceeds. On the 21st June he writes:—

"The farther we proceed north-westerly the more convinced I am hat for all the practical purposes of civilised man the interior of this country, westward of a certain meridian, is uninhabitable, deprived as it 5 of wood, water and grass."

A sweeping and hasty condemnation this, considering that he threshold of the interior had been scarcely more than crossed.

On the 23rd of June the travellers suddenly and unexpectedly came upon the river again, an incident, as the leader says, little expected by any one.

The next day they started once more to follow down the stream, with brighter hopes of better success, until, on the 7th of July, progress was once more arrested, and Oxley turned back recording in his journal:—

"It is with infinite regret and pain that I was forced to come to the conclusion that the interior of this vast country is a marsh, and uninhabitable."

The party now retraced their steps to the eastward, disgusted with the want of success that had attended their efforts, and the dreary monotony of their surroundings.

"There is a uniformity in the barren desolateness of this country which wearies one more than I am able to express. One tree, one soil, one water, and one description of bird, fish, or animal prevails alike for ten miles and for one hundred. A variety of wretchedness is at all times preferable to one unvarying cause of pain or distress."

On the 4th of August, being then satisfied of their position on the river, and knowing that a further course along its bank would only lead them amongst the swamps that had stayed their downward journey, it was determined to strike to the northeastward, in order to avoid this low country and, if possible, reach the Macquarie River and follow it up to the settlement of Bathurst. After experiencing some difficulty in manufacturing a raft out of pine logs, whereby to cross their baggage over, Oxley and his party left the Lachlan.

They endured for some time a repetition of their struggles in the south for grass and water, and then the explorers reached fertile and well-watered country; and, on the 19th of August, halted on the bank of the Macquarie, which river Oxley found to equal his fondest hopes. They now turned their steps homeward, and arrived at Bathurst on the evening of the 29th of August.

Convinced that, in the Macquarie, he had now discovered the highway into the interior, Oxley writes:—

"Nothing can afford a stronger contrast than the two rivers, Lachlan and Macquarie; different in their habit, their appearance, and the sources from which they derive their waters, but, above all, differing in the country bordering on them; the one constantly receiving great accession of water from four streams, and as liberally rendering fertile a great extent of country, whilst the other, from its source to its termination, is constantly diffusing and diminishing the waters it originally receives over low and barren deserts, creating only wet flats and uninhabitable morasses, and during its protracted and sinuous course, is never indebted to a single tributary stream."

Oxley having successfully carried through the Lachlan expedition, was at once selected to command a similar one down the Macquarie, on which, now that the former river had so disappointed expectations, men's hopes were fixed. Oxley seems to have been particularly unhappy in his deductions, every guess hazarded by him as to the future utility of the country he passed over, or the probable nature of the farther interior, was incorrect; and now the Macquarie was to refuse to bear his boat's keel to the westward; after the same manner as the Lachlan.

In those days men had not yet mastered the idea that the physical formation of Australia was not to be worked out on the same lines as that of other countries; they looked vainly for a river with a wide and noble opening, and none being found on the surveyed coast, conjecture placed it far away in a few leagues of unexplored shore line on the north-west. The constancy with which the southern coast had been examined, precluded all idea from men's minds that the entrance to this long sought river was there. No, it must be yet undiscovered to the westward. Wentworth says:—

"If the sanguine hopes to which the discovery of this river (the Macquarie) has given birth, should be realised, and it should be found to empty itself into the ocean on the north-west coast, which is the only part of this vast island that has not been accurately surveyed, in what mighty conceptions of the future greatness and power of this colony, may we not reasonably indulge? The nearest distance from the point at which Mr. Oxley left off, to any part of the western coast, is very little short of two thousand miles. If this river, therefore, be already of the size of the Hawkesbury at Windsor, which is not less than two hundred and fifty yards in breadth, and of sufficient depth to float a seventy-four gun ship, it is not difficult to imagine what must be its magnitude at its confluence with the ocean: before it can arrive at which it has to traverse a country nearly two thousand miles in extent. If it possess the usual sinuosities of rivers, its course to the sea cannot be less than from five to six thousand miles, and the endless accession of tributary streams which it must receive in its passage through so great an extent of country will without doubt enable it to vie in point of magnitude with any river in the world."

It may, therefore, well be imagined that it was in a most sanguine spirit that Oxley undertook his second journey.

As before, a party had been sent ahead to build boats, and get everything in readiness, and, on the 6th June, 1818, he started on his second expedition into the interior. He had with him, as next in command, the indefatigable Evans, Dr. Harris, who volunteered, Charles Frazer, botanist, and twelve men, eighteen horses, two boats, and provisions for twenty-four weeks.

On the 23rd of the month, having reached a distance of nearly 125 miles from the depot in Wellington Valley, without the travellers experiencing more obstruction than might have been expected, two men, Thomas Thatcher and John Hall, were sent back to Bathurst with a report to Governor Macquarie, as had been previously arranged.

No sooner had the two parties separated, one with high hopes of their future success, the others bearing back tidings of these confident hopes, than doubt and distrust entered the mind of the leader. In his journal, written not twenty-four hours after the departure of his messengers, he says:—

"For four or five miles there was no material change in the general appearance of the country from what it had been on the preceding days, but for the fast six miles the land was very considerably lower, interspersed with plains clear of timber, and dry. On the banks it was still lower, and in many parts it was evident that the river floods swept over them, though this did not appear to be universally the case. . . . These unfavourable appearances threw a damp upon our hopes, and we feared that our anticipations had been too sanguine."

In his after report to the Governor, forwarded by Mr. Evans to Newcastle, he writes:—

"My letter, dated the 22nd June last, will have made your Excellency acquainted with the sanguine hopes I entertained from the appearance of the river, that its termination would be either in interior waters or coastwise. When I wrote that letter to your Excellency, I certainly did not anticipate the possibility that a very few days farther travelling would lead us to its termination as an accessible river."

So short-lived were the hopes he had entertained.

On the 30th June, after, for many days, finding the country becoming flatter and more liable to floods, Oxley found himself almost hemmed in by water, and had to return with the whole party to a safer encampment, where a consultation was held. It was decided to send the horses and baggage back to Mount Harris, a small elevation some fifteen miles higher up the river, whilst Oxley himself, with four volunteers and the large boat, proceeded down the river, taking with them a month's provisions. During his absence, Mr. Evans was to proceed to the north-east some sixty miles, and return upon a more northerly course, this being the direction the party intended taking if the river failed them.

Let us see how Oxley fared.

"July 2. I proceeded down the river, during one of the wettest and most stormy days we had yet experienced. About twenty miles from where I set out, there was, properly speaking, no country; the river overflowing its banks, and dividing into streams, which I found had no permanent separation from the main branch, but united themselves to it on a multitude of points. We went seven or eight miles farther, when we stopped for the night, upon a space of ground scarcely large enough to enable us to kindle a fire. The principal stream ran with great rapidity and its banks and neighbourhood as far as we could see, were covered with wood, inclosing us within a margin or bank, vast spaces of country clear of timber were under water, and covered with the common reed, which grew to the height of six or seven feet above the surface. The course and distance by the river was estimated to be from twenty-seven to thirty miles, on a north-west line.

"July 3rd. Towards the morning the storm abated, and at daylight we proceeded on our voyage. The main bed of the river was much contracted, but very deep, the waters spreading to a depth of a foot or eighteen inches over the banks, but all running on the same point of bearing. We met with considerable interruption from fallen timber, which in places nearly choked up the channel. After going about twenty miles we lost the land and trees: the channel of the river, which lay through reeds, and was from one to three feet deep, ran northerly. This continued for three or four miles further, when although there had been no previous change in the breadth, depth, and rapidity of the stream for several miles, and I was sanguine in my expectations of soon entering the long sought for Australian sea, it all at once eluded our further search by spreading on every point from northwest to northeast, amongst the ocean of reeds that surrounded us still running with the same rapidity as before. There was no channel whatever amongst these reeds, and the depth varied from five to three feet. This astonishing change (for I cannot call it a termination of the river), of course, left me no alternative but to endeavour to return to some spot on which we could effect a landing before dark. I estimated that on this day we had gone about twenty-four miles, on nearly the same point of bearing as yesterday. To assert positively that we were on the margin of the lake or sea into which this great body of water is discharged might reasonably be deemed a conclusion which has nothing but conjecture for its basis; but if an opinion may be permitted to be hazarded from actual appearances, mine is decidedly in favour of our being in the vicinity of an inland sea or lake, most probably a shoal one, and gradually filling up by immense depositions from the higher lands, left by the waters which flow into it. It is most singular that the high lands on this continent seem to be confined to the sea coast or not to extend to any distance from it."

Satisfied that to the westward nothing more could be done in the way of exploration, Oxley returned to Mount Harris, where a temporary depot was formed. Mr. Evans immediately started on a trip to the north-east; he was absent ten days, during which time he discovered the Castlereagh River.

The weather had set in wet and stormy, the rivers kept rising and falling, and the level country was soft and boggy, excessively tiring to their jaded horses; moreover, in consequence of the boats being now left behind, the packs were greatly increased in weight.

On the 20th July, the whole of the party bade adieu to the Macquarie, which they had once trusted to so fondly, and commenced their journey to the eastern coast, making in the first place for Arbuthnot's Range. Before leaving, a bottle was buried on Mount Harris, containing a written scheme of their proposed route and intentions, with some silver coin.

On July 27th, they reached the bank of the Castlereagh, after a hard struggle through the bogs and swamps. The river was flooded, and must have risen almost directly after Mr. Evans crossed it on his homeward route. It was not until the 2nd of August that the waters fell sufficiently to allow them to cross. Still steering for the range, their course lay across shaking quagmires, or wading through miles of water; constantly having to unload and reload the unfortunate horses, who could scarcely get through the bog without their packs. Before reaching the range, the party camped at the small hill, previously ascended by Mr. Evans. Here they found the compass strangely affected: on placing it on a rock the card flew round with extreme velocity, and then suddenly settled at opposite points, the north point becoming the south. A short distance from the base of the hill the needle regained its proper position. This hill received the name of Loadstone Hill.

Crossing Arbuthnot Range round the northern base of Mount Exmouth, the explorers, although still terribly harassed by the boggy state of the country, found themselves in splendid pastoral land. Hills, dales, and plains of the richest description lay before them, and from the elevations the view presented was of the most varied kind; this tract of country was called by Oxley Liverpool Plains. On Mount Tetley, and many of the hills about, the same variations of the compass were observed as had formerly been noticed on Loadstone Hill. Through this beautiful district the party now had a less arduous journey than before, and their horses were able to regain some of their lost strength.

On the 2nd of September, they crossed a river which they named the Peel River, and here one of their number narrowly escaped drowning. Still pushing eastward, and continuing to travel through beautiful grazing country Oxley was suddenly stopped by a deep glen running across his track:—

"This tremendous ravine runs near north and south, its breadth at the bottom does not apparently exceed one hundred or two hundred feet, whilst the separation of the outer edges is from two to three miles. I am certain that in perpendicular depth it exceeds three thousand feet. The slopes from the edges were so steep and covered with loose stones that any attempt to descend even on foot was impracticable. From either side of this abyss, smaller ravines of similar character diverged, the distance between which seldom exceeded half-a-mile. Down them trickled small rills of water, derived from the range on which we were. We could not, however, discern which way the water in the main valley ran, as the bottom was concealed by a thicket of vines and creeping plants."

This barrier turned them to the south, and afterwards to the west again; on the way, they met with a grand fall one hundred and fifty feet in height, which they named Becket's Cataract. At the head of the glen they found another fall which they estimated at two hundred and thirty feet in height; crossing above this cataract, which was called Bathurst's Fall, the eastern course was once more resumed, and tempests and storms found them wandering amongst the deep ravines and gloomy forests of the coast range, seeking for a descent to the lower lands.

On the 23rd of September, Oxley, accompanied by Evans, ascended a mountain to try and discover a practicable route, and from there caught sight of the sea.

"Bilboa's ecstasy at the first sight of the South Sea could not have been greater than ours when, on gaining the summit of this mountain, we beheld Old Ocean at our feet: it inspired us with new life: every difficulty vanished, and in imagination we were already home."

Now commenced the final descent, and a perilous one it was:—

"How the horses descended I scarcely know; and the bare recollection of the imminent dangers which they escaped makes me tremble. At one period of the descent I would willingly have compromised for a loss of one third of them to ensure the safety of the remainder. It is to the exertions and steadiness of the men, under Providence, that their safety must be ascribed. The thick tufts of grass and the loose soil also gave them a surer footing, of which the men skilfully availed themselves."

They were now on a river running direct to the sea, which was named the Hastings River, and which the party followed down with more or less trouble until they reached a port at the mouth of it, which the explorer, after the fashion of the day, immediately dubbed Port Macquarie. It is an unfortunate thing for New South Wales that such an absence of originality with regard to naming newly discovered places was displayed by the travellers of that time.

On the 12th of October, the wanderers made a final start for home, commencing a toilsome march along the coast south. Stopped and interrupted for a time by many inlets and creeks, they at last came upon a boat buried in the sand, which had belonged to a Hawkesbury vessel, lost some time before; this boat they carried with them as far as Port Stephens, where they arrived on the 1st of November, using it to facilitate the passage of the salt water arms. During the latter part of this wearisome journey, they were much harassed by unprovoked attacks by the natives, and one of the men, William Black, was dangerously wounded, being speared through the back and in the lower part of the body.

Oxley had thus, after innumerable hardships and dangers, brought his party, with the exception of the wounded man, back in safety to the settlements. True he had not fulfilled the mission he was dispatched on, but he had discovered large tracts of valuable land fit for settlement; he had crossed the formidable coast range far away to the north, and established the fact that communication between his newly discovered port and the interior was practicable. Oxley's expeditions were both well equipped and well carried out, he also had the assistance of able and zealous coadjutors, each or any of them being capable of assuming the leadership in case of misfortune. His travels may be said to inaugurate the series of brilliant exploits in the field of exploration that we are about to enter on.

In 1819, Messrs. Oxley and Meehan, accompanied by young Hume, made a short excursion to Jarvis Bay, Oxley returning by sea, his companions overland.

The era of the pioneer squatter had now commenced henceforth exploration and pastoral enterprise went hand in hand. North and south of the new town of Bathurst, the advance of the flocks and herds went on; Oxley's report may have somewhat checked a westerly migration, but the stay in that direction was not doomed to last long. Northward, to and beyond the Cugeegong River and the fertile valley of the Upper Hunter, southward, towards the mysterious Morumbidgee, which was now reported as having been found by the settlers, pressed the pioneers. It is not known who was the first discoverer of this river. Hume, in company with Throsby, must have been close to it during their various excursions, and in 1821 Hume discovered Yass Plains, almost on its bank. It was, however, destined to be the future highway to the undiscovered land of the west.

In 1822 Messrs. Lawson and Scott attempted to reach Liverpool Plains, Oxley's great discovery, from Bathurst; they were, however, unable to penetrate the range that formed the southern boundary of the Plains, and returned, having discovered a new river at the foot of the range, which they named the Goulburn.

In 1823, Oxley, Cunningham, and Currie were all in the field in different directions.

On the 22nd of May, Captain Mark John Currie, R.N., accompanied by Brigade-Major Ovens, and having with them Joseph Wild, a notable bushman, started on an exploratory trip south of Lake George. On the 1st of June, they came to the Morumbidgee, as it was then called, and followed up the bank of it, looking for a crossing. The day before they had caught sight of a high range of mountains to the southward, partially snow-topped. In their progress along the river they came to fine open downs and plains, which, with the singularly bad taste, which still, unfortunately, holds sway, Currie immediately named after the then Governor, "Brisbane Downs;" although but a short time before they had learnt from the aborigines the native name of Monaroo. Fortunately, in this instance, Monaroo has been preserved, and Brisbane Downs forgotten.

On the 6th June they crossed the river, and found the open country still stretching south, bounded to the west by the snowy mountains they had formerly seen, and to the east by a range that they took to be the coast range. Their provisions being limited, they turned back, and reached Throsby's farm of Bong-Bong on the 14th of the same month.

Cunningham, meantime, during the months of April, May, and June, was busily engaged in the country north of Bathurst. He had two purposes in view—his pursuit as a botanist, and the discovery of a pass through the northern range on to Liverpool Plains, which Lieutenant Lawson had been unable to find. On reaching the range he searched vainly to the eastward for any valley that would enable him to pierce the barrier, and had to retrace his steps and seek more to the west. Here he came upon a pass, which he called Pandora's Pass, [See Appendix.] and which he found to be practicable as a stock route to the plains. He returned to Bathurst on the 27th of June.

In October, Oxley started from Sydney on a very different kind of expedition to those lately undertaken by him. His mission now was to examine the inlets of Port Curtis, Moreton Bay, and Port Bowen, with a view to forming penal establishments there. On the 21st of October, therefore, 1823, he left in the colonial cutter MERMAID, accompanied by Messrs. Stirling and Uniacke. At Port Macquarie, Oxley had the pleasure of seeing the settlement that had so rapidly sprung up on his recommendation of the suitability of the port. Further on, they discovered and named the Tweed River. On the 6th November, the MERMAID anchored in Port Curtis. Here the party remained for some time, and found and christened the Boyne River. Oxley's report was unfavourable.

"Having," he says, "viewed and examined with the most anxious attention every point that afforded the least promise of being eligible for the site of a settlement, I respectfully submit it as my opinion, that Port Curtis and its vicinity do not afford such a site; and I do not think that any convict establishment could be formed there that would return either from the natural productions of the country, or as arising from agricultural labour, any portion of the great expense which would necessarily attend its first formation."

As it was too late in the season to examine Port Bowen, the MERMAID went south, entered Moreton Bay, and anchored off the river that Flinders had christened Pumice Stone River, heading from the Glass House Peaks. Here a singular adventure occurred:—

"Scarcely was the anchor let go," writes Mr. Uniacke, "when we perceived a number of natives, at the distance of about a mile, advancing rapidly towards the vessel; and on looking at them with the glass from the masthead, I observed one who appeared much larger than the rest, and of a lighter colour, being a light copper, while all the others were black."

This light-coloured native turned out to be a white man, one Thomas Pamphlet. In company with three others he had left Sydney in an open boat, to bring cedar from the Five Islands, but, being driven out to sea by a gale, they had suffered terrible hardships, being (so he stated) at one time twenty-one days without water, during which time one man had died of thirst. Finally they were wrecked on Moreton Island, and had lived with the blacks ever since—a period of seven months. Pamphlet informed them that his two companions were named Finnegan and Parsons, and that they had started to make for Sydney, overland, but, after going some fifty miles, he (Pamphlet) returned, and shortly afterwards was joined by Finnigan, who had quarrelled with Parsons. The latter was never heard of.

Next day Finnegan turned up, and both he and Pamphlet, agreeing that at the south end of the bay there was a large river. Messrs. Oxley and Stirling started the following morning in the whale boat to look for it; taking Finnegan with them. They found the river, and pulled up it about fifty miles, being greatly satisfied with the discovery. Not being provided for a longer trip, Oxley turned back at a point he named Termination Hill, which he ascended and from which he obtained a fine view of the further course of the river. Still haunted by his inland lake theory, and as usual drawing erroneous deductions, he writes:—

"The nature of the country, and a consideration of all the circumstances connected with the appearance of the river, justify me in entertaining a strong belief that the sources of the river will not be found in mountainous country, but rather that it flows from some lake, which will prove to be the receptacle of those interior streams crossed by me during an expedition of discovery in 1818."

This river Oxley named the Brisbane, and taking with them the two rescued men, the MERMAID set sail for Sydney, where the party arrived on December 13th. With regard to the shipwrecked men, it may be here mentioned that their conviction at the time they were found was, that they were to the south of Sydney, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Jarvis Bay.

Oxley's work and his life too were now almost at a close. He died at Kirkham, his private residence, near Sydney, on the 25th of May, 1828. He had been essentially a successful explorer, for although he had not in every case attained the issue aimed at, he had always brought his men back in safety, and had opened up vast tracts of new country. [See Appendix.]

The journey made by Messrs. Hume and Hovell across to Port Phillip has a character of its own, being the first successful trip undertaken from shore to shore, from the eastern to the southern coast. The expedition originated from a somewhat wild idea that entered the head of that unpopular governor Sir Thomas Brisbane.

Surveyor-General Oxley, not having determined the question as to whether any large rivers entered the sea between Cape Otway and Spencer's Gulf, excepting to his own satisfaction, Sir Thomas Brisbane bit upon the scheme of landing a party of prisoners near Wilson's Promontory, and inducing them, by the offer of a free pardon and a land grant, to find their way to Sydney overland; and that they should have a better chance of eventually turning up, it was recommended that an experienced bushman should be put in charge of them. The flattering, if somewhat dangerous, offer of this position was made to Mr. Hume, who, on consideration, declined it; he, however, offered to conduct a party from Lake George, then the outermost station, or nearly so, to Western Port, if the Government provided necessary assistance. The Government accepted h is offer, but forgot to provide the assistance. This caused much delay and vexation, and Mr. Hovell, offering to join the party and find half the necessary men and cattle, the Government agreed to do something in the matter. This something amounted to six pack-saddles and gear, one tent of Parramatta cloth, two tarpaulins, a suit of slop clothes each for the men, two skeleton charts for tracing their journey, a few bush utensils, and the following promise: a cash payment for the hire of the cattle should any important discovery be made. This money was refused on the return of the party, and Mr. Hume states that he had even much difficulty in obtaining tickets-of-leave for the men, and an order to select 1,200 acres of land for himself. Mr. Hovell was a retired shipmaster, who had been for some time settled in Australia. Each of the leaders brought with them three men, so that the strength of the expedition was eight men in all. They had with them two carts, five bullocks, and three horses.

On October 14th, 1824, the party left Lake George. On reaching the Murrumbidgee they found it flooded, and after waiting three days, and the river continuing the same, an attempt was made to cross, and by means of the body of a cart rigged up as a punt with a tarpaulin, they succeeded.

On the south side of the river they found the country broken, and somewhat difficult to make good progress through, but it was all well grassed and adapted to grazing purposes. Here, as might have been anticipated, they soon had to leave their carts behind, and pack their cattle for the remainder of their journey. Following the Murrumbidgee, after a short distance they left it for a south-west course, which still led them through hills and valleys rich with good grass and running water.

On November 8th, they were destined to enjoy a sight never before witnessed by white men in Australia. Ascending a range, in order to get a view of the country ahead of them, they suddenly came in front of snowcapped mountains. There, under the brilliant sun of an Australian summer's day, rose lofty peaks that might have found a fitting home in some far polar clime, covered as they were for nearly one-fourth of their height with glistening snow.

Skirting this range, which was called the Australian Alps, the travellers, after eight days wandering through the spurs of the lofty mountains they had just seen, came on a fine flowing river, which Mr. Hume named after his father the "Hume," destined to be afterwards called the Murray when visited lower down.

Failing to find a ford, a makeshift boat was constructed by the aid of the useful tarpaulin, and the passage of the Hume safely accomplished. Still passing through good available country watered by fine flowing streams, on the 24th they crossed the Ovens River, and on the 3rd of December they came to another river, which they called the Hovell (now the Goulburn), and on the 16th of the same month reached the sea shore, near where Geelong now stands. Two days afterwards they commenced their return, and on the 18th January arrived at Lake George.

This exploration had a great and lasting bearing on the extension of Australian settlement. A few years after one of the highest authorities then in the colony had deemed the western interior, beyond a certain limit, unfitted for human habitation; and expressed his opinion that the monotonous flats over which he vainly looked for any rise, extended almost to the sea coast—snow-clad mountains, feeding innumerable streams, were discovered to the south of his track.

The successful and arduous expedition led by the young native-born explorer, had the twofold effect of exposing Oxley's fallacies, and teaching a lesson of caution to future explorers not to indulge hastily in general condemnation. This lesson, however, has not been heeded; the history of Australian exploration being a history of conclusions drawn one year, to be falsified the next. Hume's journey to Port Phillip at once added to the British-Colonial Empire millions of acres of arable land watered by never-failing rivers, with a climate calculated to foster the growth of almost any species of fruit or grain.

It is a pity that in concluding the review of an expedition, fraught with so much benefit to the colony, and carried out with so much courage, hardihood, and facility of resource, that it cannot also be said, and marked with the same cheerful spirit that pervaded those of Oxley's, but unfortunately, the evil feeling of jealously that would arise from the presence of two leaders, showed plainly throughout in petty and undignified squabbles, which, in after days, led to paper warfare between the two explorers. It is painful, if amusing, to read of the disagreement as to their course in very sight of the lately discovered Australian Alps, and how, on agreeing to separate and divide the outfit, it was proposed to cut the tent in half, and the only frying-pan was broken by both parties pulling at it.

Thomas Boyd, the only survivor of the party in 1883, who was then eighty-six years old, was the first white man to cross the Murray, which he did, swimming it with a line in his mouth. In the year named he signed a document, giving the credit of taking the party through in safety to Hume. Boyd himself was one of the most active members of the expedition, and always to the front when there was any work to be done.

The training that Hume received in this, and his former journey, admirably qualified him to become the companion of Sturt in his first expedition when he discovered the other great artery of the Murray system, the Darling. The young explorer was thus singularly fortunate in having his name connected with the discovery of two of the most important rivers in Australia. In the trip just narrated he and his companion, Hovell, had arrested the hasty conclusion that was being formed as to the aridity of the interior. The result of their expedition held out high hopes for any future explorer, and the report they brought in was afterwards fully confirmed by Major Mitchell.



CHAPTER III.



Settlement of Moreton Bay—Cunningham in the field again—His discoveries of the Gwydir, Dumaresque, and Condamine Rivers—The Darling Downs, and Cunningham's Gap through the range to Moreton Bay—Description of the Gap—Cunningham's death—Captain Sturt—His first expedition to follow down the Macquarie—Failure of the river—Efforts of Sturt and Hume to trace the channel—Discovery of New Year's Creek (the Bogan)—Come suddenly on the Darling—Dismay at finding the water salt—Retreat to Mount Harris—Meet the relief party—Renewed attempt down the Castlereagh River—Trace it to the Darling—Find the water in that river still salt—Return—Second expedition to follow the Morumbidgee—Favourable anticipations—Launch of the boats and separation of the party—Unexpected junction with the Murray—Threatened hostilities with the natives—Averted in a most singular manner—Junction of large river from the North—Sturt's conviction that it is the Darling—Continuation of the voyage—Final arrival at Lake Alexandrina—Return voyage—Starvation and fatigue— Constant labour at the oars and stubborn courage of the men—Utter exhaustion—Two men push forward to the relief party and return with succour.

In 1824, in consequence of the favourable report of Surveyor Oxley, a penal settlement was formed at Moreton Bay, but it was speedily removed to a better site on the Brisbane River, where the capital of Queensland now stands. The natives bestowed upon the abandoned settlement the name of "Umpie Bong," [Literally, dead houses] which name is still preserved as Humpybong.

In 1825 Major Lockyer made a long boat excursion up the Brisbane River, and the stream being somewhat swollen by floods, he was able to penetrate, according to his own account, nearly one hundred and fifty miles.

He was much taken with the promising nature of the country, both on the Brisbane and its tributary, the Bremer, and great hopes, happily fulfilled, were entertained of the success of the new settlement. During this year Mr. Cunningham had undertaken another journey to Liverpool Plains. Threading the pass he had formerly discovered and named Pandora's Pass, he crossed the plains, and ascended and examined the table land to the north, returning to Bathurst.

In 1827 this explorer, whose industry never flagged, started on the most eventful trip he ever made, destined to considerably affect the immediate progress of the new colony established at Moreton Bay. On the 30th of April he left Segenhoe Station, on the Upper Hunter, and on crossing Oxley's 1818 track to Port Macquarie, at once entered on the unexplored northern region. On the 19th May, after traversing a good deal of unpromising country, a fertile valley was entered, which led the travellers on to the banks of the Gwydir River, one of Cunningham's most important discoveries. He next found and named the Dumaresque River, and finally emerged on the beautiful plateau, thenceforth known as the Darling Downs, where the Condamine River received its name, after the Governor's aide-de-camp. Cunningham's description of this tract of pastoral country is very glowing:—

"Deep ponds, supported by streams from the highlands immediately to the eastward, extend along their central lower flats. The lower grounds thus permanently watered present flats which furnish an almost inexhaustible range of cattle pasture at all seasons of the year; the grass and herbage generally exhibiting in the depth of winter an extreme luxuriance of growth. From these central grounds rise downs of a rich black and dry soil, and very ample surface; and as they furnish abundance of grass and are conveniently watered, yet perfectly beyond the reach of those floods which take place on the flats in a season of rain, they constitute a sound and valuable sheep pasture."

Here Cunningham halted for some time, with the view of ascertaining the practicability of a passage across the range to Moreton Bay.

In exploring the mountains immediately above the tents of the encampment, a remarkably excavated part of the main range was discovered, which appeared likely to prove available as a pass. Upon examination, the gap was found to be rugged and broken, partially blocked with fallen masses of rocks, and overgrown by scrub and jungle. Beyond these impediments, which could soon be removed, the gap now known as Cunningham's Gap was apparently available as affording a descent to the lower coast lands. Relinquishing any further attempts for the present, either through the mountains or to the western interior, Cunningham returned to the Hunter, crossing and re-crossing his outward track. He was absent oil this expedition thirteen weeks.

The following year the discoverer of the Darling Downs, accompanied by his old companion, Charles Frazer, Colonial Botanist, proceeded by sea to Moreton Bay with the intention of starting from the settlement and connecting with his camp on the Darling Downs by way of Cunningham's Gap. In this attempt he was also accompanied by the Commandant, Captain Logan. The party followed up the Logan River, and partly ascended Mount Lindsay, a lofty and remarkable mountain on the Dividing Range. They were, however, unsuccessful in finding the Gap on this occasion. Cunningham, however, immediately started from Limestone Station on the Bremer, now the town of Ipswich, and this time was quite successful. On the 24th Of August he writes:—

"About one o'clock we passed a mile to the southward of our last position, and, entering a valley, we pitched our tents within three miles of the gap we now suspected to be the Pass of last year's journey.

"It being early in the afternoon, I sent one of my people (who, having been one of my party on that long tour, knew well the features of the country lying to the westward of the Dividing Range) to trace a series of forest ridges, which appeared to lead directly up to the foot of the hollow-back of the range.

"To my utmost gratification he returned at dusk, having traced the ridge about two and a-half miles to the foot of the Dividing Range, whence he ascended into the Pass and, from a grassy head immediately above it, beheld the extensive country lying west of the Main Range. He recognised Darling and Canning Downs, patches of Peel's Plains, and several remarkable points of the forest hills on that side, fully identifying this hollow-back with the pass discovered last year at the head of Miller's Valley, notwithstanding its very different appearance when viewed from the eastern country."

The next day, accompanied by one man, Cunningham ascended the pass that bears his name. Following the ridges, they arrived in about two and three-quarter miles to the foot of the Gap.

"Immediately the summit of the pass appeared broad before us, bounded on each side by most stupendous heads, towering at least two thousand feet above it.

"Here the difficulties of the Pass commenced. We had now penetrated to the actual foot of the Pass without the smallest difficulty, it now remained to ascend by a steep slope to the level of its entrance. This slope is occupied by a very close wood, in which red cedar, sassafras, palms, and other ornamental inter-tropical trees are frequent. Through this shaded wood lye penetrated, climbing up a steep bank of a very rich loose earth, in which large fragments of a very compact rock are embedded. At length we gained the foot of a wall of bare rock, which we found stretching from the southward of the Pass.

"This face of naked rock we perceived (by tracing its course northerly) gradually to fall to the common level, so that, without the smallest difficulty, and to my utmost surprise, we found ourselves in the highest part of the Pass, having fully ascertained the extent of the difficult part, from the entrance into the wood to this point, not to exceed four hundred yards."

In this comparatively easy manner was the main range crossed, and access at once obtained from the coastal districts to the rich inland slope—a startling result when compared with the years of labour and baffled hope wasted on the Blue Mountains before victory was won.

In the following year (1829) Cunningham went on his last expedition, to the source of the Brisbane River, and this work concluded ten years of constant and unceasing labour in the cause of exploration. He died in Sydney ten years afterwards, on the 27th of June, leaving behind an undying name, both as a botanist and ardent explorer. During his own travels, and whilst sailing with Captain King, he had seen more of the continent than any man then living.

Captain Charles Sturt, of the 39th Regiment! What visions are conjured up when this name comes on the scene! Cracked and gaping plains, desolate, desert and abandoned of life, scorched beneath a lurid sun of burning fire, waterless, hopeless, relentless, and accursed: that is the picture he draws of the great interior. He had followed up Oxley's footsteps and exposed the fallacies into which that explorer had fallen, and erred just as egregiously himself. True, like Oxley, he was the sport of the seasons. Oxley had followed the rivers down when, year after year, the regular rainfall had made them navigable for his boats, and had finally lost them in oceans of reeds. Sturt came when the land was smitten with drought, and the rivers had dwindled down to the tiniest trickle.

"In the creeks weeds had grown and withered, and grown again and young saplings were now rising in their beds, nourished by the moisture that still remained; but the large forest trees were drooping and many were dead. The emus, with outstretched necks, gasping for breath, searched the channels of the rivers for water, in vain; and the native dog, so thin that he could hardly walk, seemed to implore some merciful hand to dispatch him."

Such was Sturt's description of the state of the country.

In 1828, the year that witnessed his first expedition, no rain had fallen for two years, and it seemed as though it would never fall again. The thoughts of the colonists turned to that shallow ocean of reeds to the westward wherein Oxley had lost the Macquarie, and it was thought that now would be the time to verify its existence or find out what lay beyond. Captain Sturt was appointed to take command, and with him went Hamilton Hume, who had so successfully crossed to Port Phillip. The party consisted, besides, of two soldiers and eight prisoners of the crown, two of whom were to return with dispatches. They had with them eight riding and seven pack horses, two draught and eight pack bullocks. They had also with them a small boat rigged up on a wheeled carriage.

It would be uninteresting to follow the party over the already known ground to Mount Harris where Oxley had camped in 1818; this place Sturt and his men reached on the 20th December, 1828.

"As soon as the camp was fixed, Mr. Hume and I rode to Mount Harris, over ground subject to flood and covered for the most part by the polygonum, being too anxious to defer our examination of the neighbourhood even a few hours. Nearly ten years had elapsed since Mr. Oxley pitched his tents under the smallest of the two hills into which Mount Harris is broken. There was no difficulty in hitting upon his position. The trenches that had been cut round the tents were still perfect, and the marks of the fire places distinguishable; while the trees in the neighbourhood had been felled, and round about them the staves of casks, and a few tent pegs were scattered. Mr. Oxley had selected a place at some distance from the river on account of its then swollen state. I looked upon it from the same ground and could not discern the waters in the channel, so much had they fallen below their ordinary level. On the summit of the great eminence which we ascended, there remained the half-burnt planks of a boat, some clenched and rusty nails, and an old trunk; but my search for the bottle Mr. Oxley had left was unsuccessful.