Читать книгу Journey Across the Western Interior of Australia - Peter Egerton Warburton - Страница 4

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Eyre's journey along the shores of the Great Bight.

BY the year 1840 both Perth and Adelaide were sufficiently advanced to contemplate an overland road between the two colonies.

A gentleman was then residing in South Australia, whose name had become known in the colony as a daring explorer, and whose tenacity of purpose and steadfastness in following up any undertaking to which he directed his thoughts, had already become widely known. This man was Edward John Eyre, the friend of Sturt, and the father of Western Australian exploration. The principal object hoped to be attained by the expedition was the opening a route by which stock could be transmitted from one colony to the other. During the previous year Mr. Eyre had carefully examined the country westward of the then settled districts, and convinced himself of the utter impracticability of opening an overland route for stock in that direction. From his personal observation he inclined to break ground towards the north in preference to the west; hence, on the 23rd May, 1840, he wrote the following remarkable letter to the South Australian Register, in which his sagacity, and thorough knowledge of his subject are equally apparent:—"It may now therefore be a question for those who are interested in the sending an expedition overland to the Swan River, to consider what are likely to be the useful results from such a journey. In a geographical point of view it will be exceedingly interesting to know the character of the intervening country between this colony and theirs, and to unfold the secrets hidden by those lofty and singular cliffs at the head of the Great Bight, and so far, it might perhaps be practicable, since it is possible that a light party might, in a favourable season, force their way across; as regards the transit of stock, however, my own conviction is that it is quite impracticable. The vast extent of desert country to the westward, the scarcity of grass, the denseness of the scrub, and the all but total absence of water, even in the most favourable seasons, are in themselves sufficient bars to the transit of stock, even to a distance we are already acquainted with; I would rather, therefore, turn the public attention to the northward, as being the most probable point from which discoveries of importance maybe made, or such as are likely to prove beneficial to this and the other colonies, and from which it is possible the veil may be lifted from the still unknown and mysterious interior of this vast Continent."

Any suggestion emanating from such a man as Eyre was certain to be received by the colonists with respect, and the public attention, consequent on this letter, became centred in northern exploration. Feeling that this change in opinion was chiefly owing to himself, Mr. Eyre at once volunteered to lead a party into the interior. His offer was accepted, an exploration fund instituted, to which the inhabitants freely contributed, the Government furthering the undertaking by a grant of 100l., and every assistance that lay within their power; and, to use Mr. Eyre's own words, "My arrangements proceeded rapidly and unremittingly, whilst the kindness of the Governor, the committee of colonists, my private friends, and the public generally, relieved me of many difficulties, and facilitated my preparations in a manner that I could hardly have hoped or expected."

It will be seen from the above how early in its history South Australia lent its capital and its energy to the task of opening up the central portion of the Continent. That this public spirit is still extant, I think the sequel of this volume will show.

On the 18th of June the party, consisting of six Europeans and two black boys, started forth, accompanied for some distance by the Governor and most of the leading inhabitants. Mr. Eyre's intention was to examine Lake Torrens in the first place, and then to push northward; many and various were the conjectures then rife concerning the great interior. Some thought that a vast inland sea would be discovered, an Australian Mediterranean, by means of which communication could be established with the habitable belt fringing the Northern coast. A few desponding people were inclined to think the adventurers would encounter a huge saltpan, lying white and glistening in the sun, and forbidding farther progress. Captain Sturt differed from both these opinions. I quote a speech made by him at the time. "With regard to an observation which he (Captain Sturt) had made on Friday evening, regarding this Continent having been formerly an Archipelago, he stated that he was of opinion that a considerable space of barren land in all probability existed between this district and what had formerly been the next island. This space was likely to be barren, though of course it would be impossible to say how far it extended. He had every reason to believe, from what he had seen of the Australian Continent, that at some distance to the northward a large tract of barren country would be found, or perhaps a body of water, beyond which a good country would in all probability exist."

For months Mr. Eyre and his party struggled to penetrate northward; but in every direction Lake Torrens, overlapping them like a monster horseshoe, checked their progress. Owing to the extreme rarefaction of the atmosphere, everything wore a distorted aspect; what had from a distance appeared as rocks, turning on inspection into very small lumps of dirt or clay lying in the bed of the lake. The lake was penetrated for six miles, and so far found devoid of surface-water. It was nothing but a bed of mud, becoming softer and softer as the party advanced, which they persevered in doing until the horses sinking in the slime up to their bellies rendered their return imperative. The whole of this surface of mud was covered with a coating of salt about one-eighth of an inch in thickness; a glittering belt, dazzling to the eye, but heart-breaking to the explorer. As further efforts in that direction would have been in vain, the party struck westward, and reached "Fowler's Bay", in the Great Bight. From this point they tried to push round the head of the Bight, being driven back twice from want of water, but in a third attempt Eyre was more successful, and managed to penetrate fifty miles along the coast beyond the northern point of the ocean. These repeated efforts had cost the expedition dear, for they lost their best horses, which rendered it impossible to carry provisions for so large a party. The leader was therefore reluctantly compelled to send some of their number back in the small Government cutter which had been placed at his disposal. During the absence of the little vessel Eyre meditated bitterly on the obstacles that had hitherto impeded his progress, and came to the desperate determination that on the return of the cutter with forage he would make his way round the Great Bight to Western Australia with pack-horses only, a distance exceeding 1000 miles of trackless desert.

On the 26th January, 1841, the boat returned, having on board a favourite black boy of Mr. Eyre's, a native of King George's Sound, named Wylie. She also brought a letter from the Governor, informing him that the cutter could not be employed outside South Australian waters, though she was perfectly at his disposal within their limits. This was a bitter disappointment, and completely frustrated his plans. To take his already reduced party across the desert would now be impossible, for the horses could not carry food enough to support them. Only one means remained, and to this Mr. Eyre was compelled to resort, viz. to still further reduce his following. On the 31st January the cutter sailed, every man on board her watching with straining eyes the small party on the beach. With only one white companion the gallant leader had determined to traverse that fearful wilderness, "firmly determined never to return unsuccessful, but either to accomplish the object he had in view or to perish in the attempt", and now only waited the restoration of the horses to good condition, to sally forth into the desert.

In explaining his motives for the change in the destination of his expedition, Mr. Eyre says,—"It will be remembered, that in stating the origin and commencement of the northern expedition, it was remarked that a previously contemplated expedition to the westward was made to give way to it, and that I had myself been principally instrumental in changing the direction of public attention from the one to the other; it will be remembered also what publicity had been given to our departure, how great was the interest felt in the progress of our labours, and how sanguine were the expectations formed as to the results; alas, how signally had these hopes been dashed to the ground! After the toils, anxieties, and privations of eight months, neither useful nor valuable discoveries had been made; hemmed in by an impracticable desert, or the bed of an impassable lake, I had been baffled and defeated in every direction, and to have returned now would have been to have rendered of no avail the great expenses that had been incurred in the outfit of the expedition, to have thrown away the only opportunity presented to me of making some amends for past failure, and of endeavouring to justify the confidence that had been reposed, in me, by carrying through the exploration which had been originally again set out, every moment expecting to see a break in the line of cliffs along which they had now toiled so far. Alas! they still continued stretching as far as the eye could see to the westward, and as fast as they arrived at one point, it was but to be met with the view of another beyond. Thus hour after hour passed away, mile after mile was traversed, and yet no change was observable. By noon, 110 miles from the last water was reached, and still the country continued the same. The sheep still travelled, but were getting so tired, and their pace was so slow, that it was decided to leave them behind, and, by moving on more rapidly, endeavour to save the lives of their horses and themselves. Setting to work, Mr. Eyre and the boy made a strong enclosure of shrubs, in which they shut up the wretched sheep. A note was hastily written to the overseer, directing him to bury the loads of the horses, and hasten on with the animals alone. To attract attention a long stick, to which was attached a red handkerchief, was raised above the sheep-yard, and by one o'clock they were again pursuing their weary way, though much more rapidly than before. In a few miles they came to a well-beaten native road, and hopes were raised that their sufferings would soon be at an end. It was not to be, for the rocky holes to which the track led were dry! They had now been four days without any water for their horses, their own scanty store was exhausted, and there appeared as little probability of their soon procuring it as there had been two days ago. At dark they had left the sheep-yard fifteen miles behind, and followed another native path, which, like its predecessor, led them only to dry holes in the rock. Staggering onward along the top of the cliffs, the wanderers found a new obstacle to impede their progress, for the country, which had hitherto been tolerably open, now became scrubby, and it was found impossible either to keep a straight course, or to make any way through it in the dark. Still they kept perseveringly onward, leading their horses, and forcing a passage as they best could. They were, however, soon compelled to desist. The black boy could hardly move; Eyre himself was but little better, and both were suffering from a parching thirst, so they laid down to wait for daylight. The boy, ignorant of the dangers which beset him, was soon sound asleep, but no soothing slumber visited the eyelids of the weary white man, whose own distresses were lost in the apprehensions which he entertained for those who were left behind. They were now 128 miles from the last water, whilst the horses had not had a drop for four whole days and nights, and had been almost without food also, for they could not feed on the parched and withered grass. The state the poor animals were in was truly pitiable: what, then, was likely to be the condition of those that were coming after and carrying heavy packs? A wretched vigil indeed must Eyre have kept that night, for he says, "It was clear, that unless I discovered water early in the morning, the whole of our horses must perish, whilst it would be very doubtful if we could succeed even in saving our own lives."

Early in the morning (March 11th) they moved on, and on reaching the edge of the cliffs noticed some sandhills which they had passed the previous night, but had not seen owing to the darkness. The agonizing thought now occurred to the leader, that the water spoken of by the natives might be amongst these sandhills, and that he was going away from instead of approaching it. The bare idea of such a possibility was almost maddening, and the brave man stood for a moment undecided, and irresolute what he ought to do. Should he go back, the horses could never return if the sandhills failed to yield the wished for supply. For a few minutes he carefully scanned the line of coast extended before him. In the distance was faintly discernible a low sandy shore, and Eyre made up his mind at once to advance. What self-possession and iron nerve must have been brought to bear on this momentous decision, I leave the reader to imagine. Seven miles brought them to a point where the cliffs receded from the seashore, and, as they inclined inland, left a low sandy country between them and some high, bare sandhills near the sea. A native road led down to the seashore, and in a mile and a half from where they descended they reached the white sand-drifts. Upon turning into these to search for water, they were fortunate enough to strike the very place where the natives had dug little wells; "and thus," says Mr. Eyre himself, "on the fifth day of our sufferings, we were again blessed with abundance of water, nor could I help considering it as a special instance of the goodness of Providence, that we had passed the sandy valley in the dark, and had thereby been deterred from descending to examine the sandhills it contained; had we done so, the extra fatigue to our horses and the great length of time it would have taken up, would probably have prevented the horses from ever reaching the water we were now at." After a few hours of indispensable rest, Mr. Eyre and the boy hurried back to the relief of Baxter and his party, carrying a three-gallon keg of water. Without this timely succour the latter could never have survived; but at last they were all once more assembled together, and remained at the sandhills a week, recruiting the horses, and recovering the stores that had been left behind by the overseer.

On the 18th March they set forward again, and by the evening of the following day had accomplished forty miles; but the desolate appearance of the country convincing Mr. Eyre that a long distance would have to be traversed before again reaching an oasis, he resolved to leave the baggage where it was, to send back the horses to the last water, rest them for two or three days, and then load them with as much of the precious element as they could carry. This was done; the whole party returned, except one. Edward Eyre remained alone in the desert to watch the sheep, with six pints of water to last him as many days. On examining the charts, he found that they had still 600 miles to traverse, measured in a straight line, and, owing to circuits and inequalities, it would be impossible to accomplish this in less than 800 miles of distance, which would take eight weeks under the most favourable circumstances, most probably twelve when impediments were taken into consideration. For subsistence during this period they possessed three sheep and 142 pounds of flour, to be shared amongst five people, and the country was so indescribably wretched that no relief could be expected from roots or game. Can anything more horrible be conceived than the position in which Eyre now found himself, desolation all around him, the shore strewn with oars, planks, and fragments of wrecks, and no companionship but his own thoughts? Still, never for one moment did the idea of retreat present itself to his mind; during those days of thirst and solitude the indomitable will remained unbroken, and but one word rose to the parched lips, that word was. Onward. When the party rejoined him the six pints of water were exhausted, evaporation had robbed him of some, and once or twice he had spilled a little.

When seventy-two miles were made the sand ridges became so harassing that it was necessary to still further lighten the loads of the horses. The leader and Baxter therefore resorted all the baggage, throwing away every article that was not absolutely indispensable. All clothes, but a single spare shirt and pair of boots for each, were discarded; most of the pack-saddles, all the buckets but one, the medicines, some of the firearms, the ammunition, and last, most of the kegs for carrying water, besides a variety of other things, were here abandoned. Forward once more, the route lying by the seashore, where the drift seaweed drove them into the loose heavy sand above high-water mark, and the utmost vigilance was requisite to prevent the thirsty horses from plunging their muzzles into the pitiless ocean and draining the salt draught of destruction. 102 miles from the last water and fifty still from the next. The Timor pony gave in, and had to be left to its fate. For five days the horses had been without water, and 112 miles of country had been traversed without the possibility of procuring food for them, other than the dry and sapless remains of last year's grass. Whenever the party halted they followed them about like dogs, looking to their masters only for aid, "and exhibiting that confidence in us which I trust we all reposed in the Almighty, for most truly did we feel, that in His mercy and protection alone our safety could now ever be hoped for."

Baxter, the overseer, though still performing his duty with cheerfulness and assiduity, unfortunately began at this crisis to entertain gloomy anticipations of the future. He doubted the existence of water ahead, and the possibility of saving the horses. But though his mind was constantly occupied with thoughts of returning, which he believed was the only means of saving their lives, he never gave way to despondency, but looked calmly to the future, considering and reasoning upon the plan it might be best to adopt. With respect to the black boys, they appeared to think or care but little about the future; insensible of their danger as long as there was anything left to eat or drink, they played, laughed, and joked with each other as much as ever. Everything was now abandoned except two guns, the keg with a little water, and a very small quantity of flour, tea, and sugar. Before many miles two of the horses gave in, and had to be left behind, and at nine in the evening of the 28th March, with feet inflamed by the salt water, the party came to a halt, when, as usual, the natives enjoyed an undisturbed repose, and the two Europeans had to watch the horses by turns throughout the night. Morning dawned, the prospect was cheerless and gloomy, and they were 126 miles from the last water; their own scanty store was nearly exhausted and they were unable to afford any for breakfast. Travelling painfully onward, evening at length overtook them, their last and long husbanded drop of water was consumed, and the horses were turned out behind the nearest sand ridge; completely worn out by the labours of the day, neither the leader nor the overseer were capable of watching them. At day-dawn Eyre was afoot, and endeavoured with a sponge to collect some of the dew which was hanging in spangles upon the grass and shrubs. When the sponge was saturated he squeezed it into a quart pot, and in an hour's time had filled the little vessel. The black boys had been employed in the same manner, using a handful of fine grass instead of a sponge, and their several collections united in one common stock were made into tea and divided amongst the whole party. When, if ever, would they again taste liquid? None knew.

The morning of March 30th was misty and the nature of the country could not be discerned. The cavalcade crept slowly along, and gradually the landscape showed symptoms of a change, the chines and ridges near the sea were of pure white sand, whilst those farther back were high and covered with bushes. Upon ascending one of these. Eyre obtained a good view, and, to his inexpressible pleasure and relief, saw the high drifts of sand so anxiously looked for lying ahead of them at about five miles' distance. But even now, when the long-expected goal was in sight, it still seemed doubtful whether they could save the horses, for so great was the heat that a halt was imperative. In despair Eyre and Baxter looked around them to ascertain if no place was near where water might be procured by sinking. A hollow was selected between the two front ridges of white sand, and the boys called up to assist in digging. The suspense increased every moment as the well deepened, under the pliant hands of the natives. At five feet moisture commenced to show itself, and now the supreme moment had arrived, for, were it salt, their last hope of saving the horses was gone. It was tasted and pronounced fresh, but this intelligence was too joyful to be implicitly believed, and again and again the damp sand was subjected to the test, and in every instance the same verdict was returned. With their hands, and with every available utensil, the boys now worked away; by sinking another foot the question was put beyond all doubt, fresh sweet water in abundance filled the well, and thus, on the seventh day of their distress, when hope itself seemed almost extinguished, their earnest prayers to God for assistance were heard; "And I trust," says Mr. Eyre in his diary, "that in our deliverance we recognized and acknowledged with sincerity and thankfulness His guiding and protecting hand."

The utmost caution was now necessary in ministering to the horses. They had been seven days deprived of any fluid, and though the poor beasts were suffering agonies, it was impossible to water them freely. Each animal therefore was given only four gallons then, and the same quantity later on. Gradually both men and beasts recovered from their trials, and by the 5th of April the overseer and one boy were ready to go back for the stores that had been abandoned forty-seven miles away. Mr. Eyre, thinking that they would have severe exercise, generously gave them almost all the food he had with him; consequently he and the two boys suffered severely from hunger, and were compelled to eke out their daily half-pound of flour with pounded roots. In addition to starvation, they were deprived of sleep at night by the cold, for they were visited by severe frosts, and their clothing was of the scantiest. At last the overseer returned, with the boy and a single horse. His dismal tale was soon told. They had reached their destination on the 7th, but in returning one of the three horses became blind, and, with his load, had to be abandoned. A second horse had become unable to proceed, and both he and his load were left behind; but this happening only a few miles from the camp, both were eventually recovered.

Their position was now terrible indeed. They were still 650 miles from King George's Sound, with barely enough provisions to last three weeks, at a very reduced rate of allowance. Their cattle were so jaded that they could literally scarcely crawl, and it was evident they would be unable to move on again at all without many days of rest. By remaining in inactivity they were only consuming their provisions, and the idea of abandoning the horses could not even be entertained, for it had become evident that they must eventually have recourse to killing the poor animals for food. Another journey of 150 miles without water lay before them, but an equally arid tract lay in their rear; and Mr. Eyre never once wavered in his opinion that to push on would be best. Baxter differed from him on this point. The last desperate march had produced a strong impression on his mind, and he could not divest himself of the idea that the farther they went to the westward the more arid the country would be found, and that eventually they should all perish from want of water. All arguments were useless, but with characteristic fidelity and obedience he readily acquiesced in any plan Mr. Eyre might decide upon adopting, and though he had just returned from a severe journey, volunteered for the important and pressing duty of recovering the stores which had been left behind. This, however, the leader determined to undertake himself; and, accompanied by a black boy, set out on foot; and in four days they returned, bringing on their backs such stores as were absolutely necessary. During their absence Baxter had examined the country ahead, and seemed quite discouraged at its appearance. Some fish that they had speared disagreed with the whole party, and a horse was killed for food, on which they fed until it became quite putrid, and both the Europeans were seized with violent dysentery. During their helplessness the two elder native boys stole the provisions and showed signs of disaffection, threatening to leave. In vain Mr. Eyre attempted to reason with them; they could not understand the food being economized; and at last, after breakfast on the 22nd April, they took up the spears they had been preparing for the last two days, and walked sulkily from the camp in a westerly direction. The youngest boy would have followed, but as he was too young to know what he was doing, the leader detained him. In three days the runaways turned up again and begged to be received, as they found they could get nothing to eat for themselves. The King George's Sound native expressed sorrow, but the other one sat silently and sullenly at the fire.

On April 27th, after nearly a month spent in trying to restore the horses, the camp was broken up, and the party once more proceeded, knowing that they had at least 150 miles to traverse before they could again hope to meet water. On the 29th Mr. Eyre intended to have travelled all night, to make up for a compulsory halt during the day; but as the weather looked rainy, and the ground was well adapted to catch any water that might fall, the overseer earnestly begged him to stop, and, in opposition to his own judgment, he yielded. It was blowing a gale, and the horses having been hobbled and turned out to feed, the whole party proceeded to make break-winds of boughs before lying down for the night. The overseer asked Mr. Eyre which watch he would prefer, and, not feeling sleepy, he chose the first. At a little before six he went to look after the horses, having previously seen Baxter and the natives reposing, each at their respective break-wind, ten or a dozen yards apart from one another. The arms and provisions, as was customary, were piled up under an oilskin between the leader's break-wind and that of the overseer, with the exception of one gun, which was always kept by Mr. Eyre's sleeping-place. This minute detail is necessary, because of the fearful consequences that followed.

The night was cold, and the horses fed tolerably well, but rambled a good deal, treading in and out among the belts of scrub, until the leader, who was following them, hardly knew in which quarter the camp lay. At half-past ten he headed them back, as he thought, in the right direction, to be ready to call the overseer, whose watch commenced at eleven. Whilst looking steadfastly round among the scrub to see if he could anywhere detect the embers of the fire, Mr. Eyre was startled by a sudden flash, followed by the report of a gun, not a quarter of a mile away. Thinking that the overseer had mistaken the hour of the night, and had taken that method of attracting his attention, he hurried towards the camp, and at about a hundred yards from it, he met the King George's Sound boy (Wylie), who was running in great alarm and crying out, "Oh, massa, oh, massa, come here!" In a few bounds the camp was reached, and there, weltering in his blood and in the last agonies of death, the leader found his faithful friend and companion Baxter.

Upon raising the body, the unfortunate man was found beyond all human aid; a ball had penetrated his left breast, and but few minutes elapsed before he expired in Mr. Eyre's arms. Then as he gazed speechless on the familiar face, now still for ever, the awful, the appalling truth burst upon the survivor, that he was alone in the desert. The faithful being who had for so many years followed his fortunes, and whose attachment had induced him to enter on the fatal journey, now lay cold and rigid at his feet. Small wonder that as this rushed tumultuously through his brain, the strong man felt for a few instants a wish to change places with the murdered form before him. The horrors of his situation glared upon him in such startling reality, as for an instant almost to paralyze the mind. At the dead hour of night, in the wildest and most inhospitable wastes of Australia, with the fierce wind raging in unison with the awful scene before him. Eyre was left with a single native, whose fidelity he could not rely on, and who for aught he knew might be in league with the other two, who perhaps were even then lurking about to take away his life, as they had done that of his follower. It was three days since they had left the last water, and it was very doubtful where any more would be found. Six hundred miles had to be traversed before he could hope to obtain the slightest aid or assistance, whilst he knew not if a single drop of water or an ounce of flour had been left by the murderers, from a stock that had previously been so small. Rarely indeed has a human being had to face a more terrible position.

On searching for his double-barrelled gun its place was found empty, and a similar weapon that had belonged to the overseer was gone. These were the only arms at the time in a serviceable condition, for though there were a brace of pistols, cartridges were absent, and Mr. Eyre's rifle had become useless from a ball sticking fast in the breech, which he had in vain endeavoured to extract. A few days previous to their leaving the last water, the overseer had attempted to wash out the rifle, not knowing it was loaded, and the powder being wetted, it could neither be fired off, nor the ball got out. A small canvas bag containing a little ammunition, which had been overlooked by the murderers in their hurry, was at length found, and, retaining possession of this. Eyre rushed away from the fearful scene, accompanied by Wylie, to search for the horses, knowing that if they got away now, no chance whatever would remain of saving their lives. With great difficulty they were found, for the wretched animals had wandered to a considerable distance, and both men remained watching them during the remainder of the night. Mr. Eyre thus describes it:—"Every moment appeared to be protracted to an hour, and it seemed as if the daylight would never appear. About midnight the wind ceased, and the weather became bitterly cold and frosty. I had nothing on but a shirt and a pair of trousers, and suffered most acutely from the cold; to mental anguish was now added intense bodily pain. Suffering and distress had well-nigh overwhelmed me, and life seemed hardly worth the effort necessary to prolong it. Ages can never efface the horrors of this single night, nor would the wealth of the world ever tempt me to go through similar ones again."

Daylight at length dawned, and on driving the horses back to the camp, a sad and heart-rending scene presented itself. The corpse of the murdered man lay extended on the ground, with the eyes open, but cold and glazed; whilst the same stem resolution, and fearless open look, which had characterized him when living, stamped the expression of his countenance in death. He had fallen upon his breast four or five yards from where he had been sleeping, and was dressed only in his shirt. In all probability, the noise made by the natives in plundering the camp, had awaked him, and upon his jumping up with a view of stopping them, they had fired upon and killed him.

All around lay scattered the harness of the horses, and the remains of the stores that had been the temptation to the bloody deed. On examination, the miscreants were found to have carried off the whole of the baked bread, amounting to twenty pounds in weight, some mutton, tea and sugar, the overseer's pipes and tobacco, a keg full of water, some clothes, two guns, with nearly all the ammunition, and a few other small articles. There were still left forty pounds of flour, a little tea and sugar, and four gallons of water. Everything but the bare necessaries of life had now to be abandoned, and, whilst a little bread was cooking. Eyre attempted to put the rifle—his only serviceable weapon—in order. Unable to extract the ball, he resolved to melt it out, and for that purpose took the barrel off the stock, and put the breech in the fire, holding the muzzle in his hand. Buried in agonizing thought, he was rudely recalled to himself by the explosion of the charge, and the whiz of the bullet as it just cleared his head. The escape was miraculous; but the gun was once more fit for use, and, carefully loading it, Mr. Eyre felt a comparative degree of confidence and security, to which he had hitherto been a stranger.

At last the horses had received their slender burdens, and nothing remained, before proceeding, but to perform the last sad offices of humanity towards him whose career had been cut short in SO untimely a manner. Even this duty was rendered more than ordinarily painful by the nature of the country, one vast unbroken surface of sheet rock extending in every direction, and precluding the possibility of making a grave. The survivor could therefore only wrap a blanket round the body of his comrade, and, leaving it enshrouded where it fell, escape from the melancholy scene, accompanied by Wylie.

For all that day they travelled slowly and silently onward, the boy preceding, leading one of the horses. Eyre following behind, and driving the others. In the afternoon the attention of the leader was called by Wylie to two white objects advancing towards them, which he at once recognized as the native boys, covered with their blankets only. The horrors of the situation were now multiplied, for their lives could at any moment be attempted by the murderers in the thick scrub or during the night. With these bloodhounds on their trail safety was at an end, for, with their usual improvidence, the natives would soon devour the stolen provisions, and would then resort to another murder to possess themselves of the remainder. But one resource was left to the leader by which he might hope to save his own life and that of the black boy with him, viz. to shoot the elder of the two, if they still persisted in following. He halted, and endeavoured to enter into parley with them, with a view to persuading them to return eastward, and thus obviate the necessity of taking away the life of the elder, but they carefully avoided all close contact, calling out incessantly to Wylie to come and join them. Time was too precious to be wasted in vain attempts to reason with the murderers, so Eyre pushed on according to the system of march he had adopted in the morning. When the natives saw this, and found that Wylie would not desert his master, they set up a wild and plaintive cry, still following in the brush parallel to the line of route, and never ceasing in their importunities, until the denseness of the scrub, and the closing in of night, concealed one party from the other. Eyre now resolved to make a night march and outstrip the miscreants who were dogging his footsteps, and in this he was completely successful, for, laden with the stolen bread and water, they could never have kept up, and most likely camped soon after sundown. Day after day he urged the jaded horses onward, and finally, on the seventh day since leaving the last depôt, they again found water, after haying crossed 150 miles of a rocky, barren, and inhospitable tableland.

Having now got fairly beyond all the cliffs bounding the Great Bight, the intrepid leader trusted that the greatest difficulties were overcome. The vegetation of the country had undergone a decided change. Banksias abounded, and the tracks of natives were numerous, though they kept themselves concealed. It was to be hoped that no more fearful stages of 150 miles without water would occur, but that they would be enabled to procure it once at least in every forty or fifty miles, if not oftener. A strict watch was kept in case the two boys should reappear, but they were never seen again, and there seems no doubt whatever that they perished. At the time Mr. Eyre last saw them they were sixty-three miles from the nearest water to the eastward, and eighty-seven from the sand ridges where he was now camped. The stolen property would retard their progress, and they would doubtless have consumed the keg of water they carried with them, when they found its weight inconvenient, without the slightest regard for the wants of the morrow. Then difficulties and distress would gradually but certainly increase upon them; they would fling away their guns and bread; and thus left in that awful desert, unarmed, and devoid of both food and water, a dreadful and lingering death would terminate their existence, their last moments embittered by the consciousness that their fearful condition was entirely owing to their own treachery. Mr. Eyre, on calm reflection, finds some extenuation for the boys. After all they were but savages, and the unlucky opinions regarding the future, openly expressed by Baxter, doubtless had a depressing effect upon them. Probably the thought of murder had never entered their minds, and only when the ill-fated overseer awoke and found them engaged in rifling the stores, did such a method of securing their retreat flash upon them, unfortunately to be acted upon with fatal promptitude. The boys were old servants of Eyre's, the elder having been with him two years and a half, the younger more than four years, and that either of them should have planned a wilful, barbarous, and cold-blooded murder, is hardly to be believed, more particularly as no object was to be attained by it. The body of the murdered man having been shot through the chest, many yards in advance of where he was sleeping, showed that not until he had arisen from his resting-place, and advanced towards them, was the fatal shot fired. This of course is at the best but surmise, though it indicates clearly a love of justice in the breast of the leader thus treacherously abandoned, and a repugnance to condemn even an Australian black unheard.

From the 7th of May to the end of that month, the wanderers struggled westward, meeting with water more frequently, but becoming daily weaker and more emaciated. Horse-flesh, an occasional kangaroo, and fish were their sole food, which produced excruciating pains in the white man, and little less suffering to the black, from the reckless way in which he gorged himself. Some idea of a native's appetite may be gathered from the following extract:—"May 18th. Having seen some large kangaroos near our camp, I sent Wylie with the rifle to try and get one. At dark he returned, bringing home a young one, large enough for two good meals; upon this we feasted all night, and for once Wylie admitted that his belly was full. He commenced by eating a pound and a half of horse-flesh, and a little bread; he then ate the entrails, paunch, liver, lights, tail, and two hind legs of the young kangaroo, next followed a penguin, that he had found dead upon the beach, upon this he forced down the whole of the hide of the kangaroo, after singeing the hair off, and wound up this meal by swallowing the tough skin of the penguin; he then made a little fire, and laid down to sleep and dream of the pleasures of eating, nor do I think he was ever happier in his life than at that moment." Mr. Eyre also tells the following curious anecdote, which illustrates admirably the character of the blacks:—"During the day Wylie had caught two opossums, and as these were entirely the fruit of his own labour and skill, I did not interfere in their disposal. I was curious, moreover, to see how far I could rely upon his kindness and generosity, should circumstances ever compel me to depend upon him for a share of what he might procure. At night, therefore, I sat philosophically watching him whilst he proceeded to get supper ready, as yet ignorant whether I was to partake of it or not. After selecting the larger of the two animals, he prepared and cooked it, and then put away the other where he intended to sleep. I now saw that he had not the remotest intention of giving any to me, and asked him what he intended to do with the other one. He replied that he should be hungry in the morning, and meant to keep it until then. Upon hearing this, I told him that his arrangements were very good, and that for the future I would follow the same system also; and that each should depend upon his own exertions in procuring food; hinting to him that as he was so much more skilful than I was, and as we had so very little flour left, I should be obliged to reserve this entirely for myself, but that I hoped he would have no difficulty in procuring as much food as he required. I was then about to open the flour-bag and take a little out for my supper, when he became alarmed at the idea of getting no more, and stopped me, offering the other opossum, and volunteering to cook it properly for me. Trifling as this little occurrence was, it read me a lesson of caution, and taught me what value was to be placed upon the assistance or kindness of my companion, should circumstances ever place me in a situation to be dependent upon him. I felt a little hurt, too, at experiencing so little consideration from one whom I had treated with the greatest kindness, and who had been clothed and fed upon my bounty for the last fifteen months."

On the last day of May, Mr. Eyre had a narrow escape of broken bones from a horse jumping upon him, when he would have been in a dreadful position, and in all probability must have perished. On the 2nd of June they saw two black objects to seaward, and made them out, after much anxious watching, to be whale-boats. Feeling sure that the vessel to which they belonged must be somewhere in the neighbourhood, the horizon was keenly scanned in every direction, and at last they were delighted beyond measure to perceive to the westward the masts of a large ship peeping above a rocky island which had heretofore concealed her from their view. The poor black boy's joy now knew no bounds, and he leapt with delight at the prospect of plenty to eat. Mr. Eyre's chief fear was lest she should disappear before they could get to her, or attract the attention of those on board. Mounting the strongest horse, he pushed on by himself as fast as the heavy nature of the ground would permit, leaving Wylie to bring on the other animals. A short time brought him to a rocky bay, opposite to which lay at anchor a fine barque, less than a quarter of a mile from the shore. The people on board were busy, and did not at first perceive the wanderer, but on his making a smoke and hailing, a boat was instantly put off, and in a few moments he had the inexpressible pleasure of being again among civilized beings, and of shaking hands with a fellow-countryman in the person of Captain Rossiter, commanding the French whaler "Mississippi", by whom they were both received with the greatest kindness and hospitality.

For a fortnight Mr. Eyre and Wylie remained on board the friendly vessel, the latter not a little amusing her crew by his capacity for eating, with the exception of his first meal, when the immense number of biscuits he devoured, and the marvellous rapidity with which they disappeared, not only astounded, but absolutely alarmed them. During the whole of this time the weather was so boisterous, cold, and wet, that with the scanty clothing remaining to them, they could never have lived through it. It seemed indeed as though a kind Providence had sent the weary men shelter when exposure would have carried with it death. The French blacksmith shod the horses, and Captain Rossiter supplied everything that was wanted to continue the journey. Nothing seems to have been more kind than this gentleman's behaviour; he would receive no payment for the twelve days his visitors had resided on board, and pressed many articles of warm clothing and other little comforts on Mr. Eyre and his follower. Into the remaining portion of this eventful journey I shall not enter. Rain now fell heavily, and both men and horses suffered dreadfully from cold and rheumatism. On the 7th July, amidst pouring rain, they ascended the hill that overlooks the town of Albany. Not a living creature was in sight—not even an animal—the place looked uninhabited, so completely had the inclemency of the weather cleared the streets. Mr. Eyre could not but recall the party as more than a year before it had set out, with horses, drays, and well-ordered appointments. Two poor wanderers on foot only had reached the goal, and a tear to the memory of those lost arose to his eye.

Such is briefly an account of the first attempt to pierce the centre of Australia, and to open up communication between the western colony and her southern sister. The account from beginning to end relates to nothing but a miserable, arid, desolate region, where, as we have seen, even a native perishes from thirst and starvation. Throughout the whole length of the Great Bight not even the most paltry rivulet discharges itself into the sea. Desolation reigns supreme. Mr. Eyre, however, by his indomitable pluck, cleared up one point most satisfactorily, viz. that if the pastoral interests of South and Western Australia made a land communication absolutely necessary, it was in vain to look for it on the borders of the Great Bight. He had been foiled in attempting to penetrate the interior; beyond vague conjectures nothing concerning this enormous tract was known, and if a road was to be opened, it became manifest that the mystery enveloping Central Australia should be cleared up. How this was partially done will be shown in the following chapter.