Part 18

12th May.

By the time we had commenced loading our horses, a large body of natives had collected and approached to reconnoitre our camp; I advanced towards them to keep them in check until the loads were completed. On observing that I came alone three natives advanced to meet me, throwing three or four spears at me in a friendly way, which I picked up and stuck in the ground by my side; this token at once established a good understanding, and after an exchange of presents they followed us for many miles down the river before quitting us. Towards nightfall several of our friends of the morning again made their appearance with a number of strange natives, dodging us among the deep muddy ravines which abound at this part of the river; their manoeuvres being equivocal and unsatisfactory, we kept well on our guard; they, however, ran off at night, on my facing about on horseback to drive them away.

Our course during the day had been nearly west twenty-two miles, one large tributary having joined the river from the northward, which was afterwards named the Lyons, in honour of the gallant admiral of that name; this accession had increased the breadth of the channel to 400 yards. As we drew towards our evening's bivouac the river entered a gorge formed by the river cutting through the south end of a flat-topped sandstone range of about 1,200 feet elevation above the sea, presenting many bold and picturesque outlines and detached summits, terminating in abrupt and almost precipitous faces; to this we gave the name of the Kennedy Range, in honour of our present Governor.

To the south a detached mass of broken sandstone hills gradually falls away in the distance, apparently into a barren scrub similar to those on the banks of the lower Murchison, while to the west lay before us an extensive plain, unbroken by a single object save a few long ridges of red drift sand, clothed with a stunted scrub of melaleuca and acacia. The bottom of the gorge we found to be 480 feet above the sea.

13th May.

From this morning to noon of the 15th the country passed over was similar to that first described, the sand ridges running north-west and south-east at about a quarter of a mile apart; the river keeping a general course of west-north-west, its channel deepening to sixty feet, and maintaining an average width of 400 yards. Grass was only to be found in small patches along the margin of the river; the accumulated waters of the late inundations having been confined to one channel, had risen to the height of forty-eight feet, carrying away many of the largest timber trees, as also much of the soil from the banks, leaving a scene of devastation exceeding anything of the kind I had hitherto witnessed.

A small description of Spanish reed was here first observed to grow on the margin of the pools. Deep muddy creeks, having only short courses, were very numerous, rendering travelling both tedious and intricate.

From noon of the 15th the country gradually opened out to a thinly-grassed plain of light alluvial soil, atriplex bushes and acacia widely scattered forming almost the entire vegetation; the ground, with the exception of the bed of the river, being parched and dry, no rain having fallen during the summer to the west of the Lyons River, in longitude 115 degrees 30 minutes east.

16th May.

Being Sunday, we only moved four miles lower down the river for better feed, the channel widening out to 600 yards.

17th May.

Early to-day the river began to throw off numerous channels to the north and south, shedding, when in a flood, a considerable amount of water over the adjoining plains, clothing the country in the garb of spring, the grass growing luxuriantly along the numerous channels, atriplex and other low bushes generally covering the plain, the lowest levels of which were extensively covered with fields of mud from one to fourteen inches thick, the deposit of a single inundation, yet scarcely hardened by the summer sun.

REACH THE COAST AT SHARK'S BAY.

At twenty miles we ascended a sandy ridge of about sixty feet in height, from which we had our first view of Shark's Bay, Babbage Island, and the mouths of the Gascoyne, now only four miles distant.

Behind the ridge upon which we stood, and for many miles to the south-east, the country was still under water from the recent floods, while between us and the sea lay a low flat, on which were many patches of acacia thicket, alternating with open grassy glades, or fields of atriplex and samphire, terminating to the westward in a broad irregular belt of mangroves, resting on the shallow margin of the bay.

Descending to the flat, we encamped in a rank patch of grass on the bank of the river, about a mile above Babbage Island, the north end of which I found to be in latitude 24 degrees 52 minutes, which is four miles north of the position as given by Sir G. Grey.

KOLAINA PLAINS.

18th May.

We found no difficulty in crossing the southern mouth on to Babbage Island; the tide being low, it was quite dry at the junction. Having, with Mr. Roe, walked over the greater part of the island, making a rough sketch of its outlines, and completing the requisite observations, while the rest of the party were occupied in an unsuccessful attempt to catch fish, we retraced our steps and crossed the main channel opposite our last night's bivouac, where it is not more than 250 yards wide. Continuing our course north-east for nearly a mile, we crossed several back channels, some trending towards the Kolaina flat of Sir G. Grey, while others were lost in the deep sandy ravines that extend for some distance to the north of the river.

While on Babbage Island several natives had waded across the northern mouth of the river to meet us, and had returned after a friendly interview, in which they apparently described the recent landing of two boats with Europeans. We now again fell in with the same natives on the north bank, near a large encampment of women and children; the latter quickly hid themselves on our approach, but the men assumed a threatening attitude, following us for some distance with much clamour. As their numbers quickly augmented, and they appeared determined to commence a fight, we led them out on to an open plain, where, leaving the pack-horses in charge of two of the party, four of us suddenly faced about and charged them at a gallop. This harmless manoeuvre had the desired effect, several of them having narrowly escaped being trodden under foot by the horses. They were very quickly dispersed, and made no further attempt to molest us. We encamped this night about six miles above Babbage Island.

19th May.

As our object was to explore as far to the northward as circumstances would allow, we left the river on a north-east course; but two hours' ride across an open plain, through which several channels ran to the north-west, brought us to dry barren scrubs, in which it appeared hopeless we should find either feed or water; we accordingly altered our course to south-east, and made the river again about sundown.

RETURN UP THE RIVER.

20th to 23rd May.

Was occupied in tracing up the north bank of the river in the hope of finding a tributary coming in from the northward; but, with the exception of one small stream which drains the western face of the Kennedy Range, not a single tributary was met with until we arrived at the Lyons River, a distance of more than ninety miles from Babbage Island. The country on the north bank differs but little from that on the south, except that travelling was somewhat easier.

THE LYONS RIVER. ALMA RIVER.

24th May.

Our horses having had a rest, the previous day being Sunday, we made an early start, and by noon halted on the Lyons River, a short distance above its confluence with the Gascoyne; its channel here was equal in magnitude and similar in appearance to the main river; a small stream was still flowing through the wide sandy bed, and gradually increased in volume for nearly eighty miles up the river. Three miles to the north of our midday halt Mr. Roe and myself ascended a deep sandstone peak, from which we had a fine view of the Kennedy Range, the nearest part of which lay about six miles to the west, extending for nearly thirty miles to the northward; the eastern face presents an almost unbroken line of nearly perpendicular sandstone, of probably 500 or 600 feet elevation. To the north a few remarkable peaks served as valuable points to carry on our triangulation, which had been continued almost uninterruptedly from Mount Hope, on the Murchison.