The Explorers (37 page)

This plan was to shoot one of the bullocks, and to fill his hide with water. We determined on sending this in a dray, a day in advance, to enable the bullock driver to get as far as possible on the road; we then arranged that Mr Browne should take the light cart, with thirty-six gallons of water, and one horse only; that on reaching the dray, he should give his horse as much water as he would drink from the skin, leaving that in the cart untouched until he should arrive at the termination of his second day's journey, when I proposed he should give his horse half the water and, leaving the rest until the period of his return, ride the remainder of the distance he had to go.

I saw little risk in this plan, and we accordingly acted upon it immediately: the hide was prepared and answered well, since it easily contained 150 gallons of water. Jones proceeded on the morning of the 27th, and on the 28th Mr Browne left me on this anxious and to us important journey accompanied by Flood. We calculated on his return on the eighth day, and the reader will judge how anxiously those days passed. On the day Mr Browne left me, Jones returned, after having deposited the skin at the distance of thirty-two miles.

On the eighth day from his departure, every eye but my own was turned to the point at which they had seen him disappear. About 3 p.m., one of the men came to inform me that Mr Browne was crossing the creek, the camp being on its left bank, and in a few minutes afterwards he entered my tent. ‘Well, Browne,' said I, ‘what news? Is it to be good or bad?'

‘There is still water in the creek,' said he, ‘but that is all I can say. What there is is as black as ink, and we must make haste, for in a week it will be gone.'

J
OHN
A
INSWORTH
H
ORROCKS

Shot by Camel, 1846

In July 1846 John Ainsworth Horrocks set out towards Lake Torrens in search of good pastoral land. He took with him a veritable menagerie, but relations between the humans and the grazing species were strained from the very start. Indeed, open warfare seems to have broken out between them. At one point Horrocks ‘killed a goat—the one that has given us so much trouble, and which Jimmy [an Aborigine] was delighted to see slaughtered, having in his hatred of the animal promised Garlick, the tent-keeper, a pint of ale if he would kill it next'.

But one member of Horrocks' expedition was trouble from the very start—Harry the cantankerous camel who bit Garlick severely on the head leaving ‘two wounds of great length above his temples and another severe gash on his cheeks'. Earlier, Harry had attempted to eat an expedition goat.

The goats had their own strategy, for they became ‘with the exception of one…very lame. They amused themselves last night by leaping on our tent, and tearing it in several places'. But worse was to come, for the errant dromedary bit through the flour bags, wasting the expedition supplies, and was eventually to have the ultimate revenge when it shot Horrocks.

Horrocks dictated this letter to the expedition secretary on 8 September 1846. How he managed to transmit it despite severe wounds to his right hand and mouth, and how he maintained such a calm, detached tone, remain mysterious. He died on 23 September. Harry, incidentally, was the first camel used in inland Australia. After Horrocks' death, it took two bullets to kill him, and he managed to bite a stockman on the head before succumbing.

It is with the greatest regret I have to inform the committee and my fellow-colonists who subscribed towards the expenses of the expedition of its untimely and unfortunate termination. Having made an excursion, accompanied by Mr Gill, to the tableland on the west of Lake Torrens, to ascertain if it were practicable to form a depot in that neighbourhood, and not succeeding in finding either water or grass, I returned to Depot Creek, determined to make an excursion with the camel, as it was impracticable to take horses sufficiently far, from what I saw of the desolate and barren country.
^†

Having ascertained the morning previous to our departure, from the summit of the range behind Depot Creek, the bearings of the high land seen by Messrs Eyre and Darke to be 32 degrees north of west by compass, and the distance I considered about eight miles, I determined to make straight for that land.

With this view I started on the 28th of August, accompanied by Mr Gill and Bernard Kilroy, with provisions sufficient for three weeks and ten gallons of water, the camel being loaded with about 356 pounds. Our first day's journey brought us to one of the creeks running from Lake Torrens into the Gulf, distance about ten miles. The last six miles was over red sandhills, partially covered with oaten grass.

The second day's journey we camped on the west side of the tableland, distance fifteen miles. The first eight miles over a continuation of sandhills, the last seven miles over a country covered with stones and salsolaceous plants.

The next day we entered a light scrub and very heavy sandhills, fifteen miles.

The day following scrub and very heavy sandhills, and plain all covered with salsolaceous plants.

The day after, having made six miles, we reached a large saltwater lake about ten miles long and five miles broad. The land we were making for we distinctly saw I supposed about twenty-five miles distant. In rounding this lake, which I named Lake Gill, Bernard Kilroy, who was walking ahead of the party, stopped, saying he saw a beautiful bird which he recommended me to shoot to add to the collection.

My gun being loaded with slugs in one barrel and ball in the other, I stopped the camel to get at the shot belt, which I could not get without his laying down.

Whilst Mr Gill was unfastening it I was screwing the ramrod into the wad over the slugs, standing close alongside of the camel. At this moment the camel gave a lurch to one side, and caught his pack in the cock of my gun, which discharged the barrel I was unloading, the contents of which first took off the middle fingers of my right hand between the second and third joints, and entered my left cheek by my lower jaw, knocking out a row of teeth from my upper jaw.

In this dilemma I was fortunate in having two most excellent companions. We were now sixty-five miles from the depot or any water that we knew of, and all the water remaining was about five gallons. With very great reluctance I consented to Bernard Kilroy's entreaty for him to return back and fetch Mr Theatstone and two horses, as I knew part of the country was inhabited by a fierce lot of natives, as they had attacked Mr Gill and myself on my previous excursion. He said he was not afraid. Therefore he left and reached the depot the next morning by about nine o'clock. Having missed the tracks during the night, he could not have walked less than 100 miles from the morning of the accident to the time he reached the depot, having most bravely accomplished his task.

Mr Gill stopped to nurse me and his attention and kindness were not to be surpassed. Considering the distance we were away and the uncertainty of Kilroy's reaching the depot, Mr Gill showed himself to be a brave and steady companion by remaining with me. He has taken several sketches of this country, which will show to those interested how very improbable it is that any stations can be made to the west of Lake Torrens. All the drainage is into freshwater ponds and salt lakes. The ponds are apparently dry in a very few days after rain, and the water which is in them being of a dark red ochreous color, the size of them varying from half an acre to five acres, and when full not more than six inches in depth.

The hill we were making for is table-topped, with precipitous sides, about seven miles in length. To the
NNE
are three smaller hills, and continuing on from them is a low land, gradually diminishing in height until it gains the land running from Lake Torrens. I did not find a spot where there was any probability of finding a spring. Grass there is none except a little wild oaten grass, which grows in the sand here and there, and that not sufficient to feed a horse.

It is with extreme sorrow I am obliged to terminate the expedition, as the two that were with me, the camel and myself were in excellent working condition; and had it not been for this accident it was my intention to have followed down this low land running to the
NNE
, and returned by Lake Torrens, a distance of between 300 and 400 miles; and would then have been able to have given a more accurate account, although I am convinced we should not have found one acre of ground to make a station on, judging from the land I have gone over and what I could discern with my eye, there being a sterile sameness throughout.

Had it been earlier in the season and my wounds healed up I should have started again.

On Sunday last I returned to the depot, horses, myself and party all completely knocked up.

I remain, yours truly,

J. H
ORROCKS
.

J
ACKEY
J
ACKEY

I Turned Round Myself and Cried, 1848

Jackey Jackey's tale of the tragic end of John Kennedy's Cape York expedition forms one of the most moving narratives in Australian exploration history. It is beautifully and economically told—a riveting piece of literature.

Jackey Jackey, a native of the Hunter Valley, was a born leader who slowly assumed command as the crisis deepened. His account reveals an individual of exceptional resourcefulness and humanity, for he stayed with Kennedy to the very end.

After he was rescued, Jackey Jackey led a relief party to the spot where eight members of the original expedition had been left behind. He should be remembered among the first rank of Australian explorers.

I started with Mr Kennedy from Weymouth Bay for Cape York, on the 13th November, 1848, accompanied by Costigan, Dunn and Luff, leaving eight men at the camp at Weymouth Bay. We went on till we came to a river which empties itself into Weymouth Bay. A little further north we crossed the river; next morning a lot of natives camped on the other side of the river. Mr Kennedy and the rest of us went on a very high hill and came to a flat on the other side and camped there. I went on a good way next day; a horse fell down a creek; the flour we took with us lasted three days; we had much trouble in getting the horse out of the creek; we went on, and came out, and camped on the ridges; we had no water.

Next morning we went on and Luff was taken ill with a very bad knee. We left him behind, and Dunn went back again and brought him on; Luff was riding a horse named Fiddler; then we went on and camped at a little creek; the flour being out this day we commenced eating horse flesh, which Carron gave us when we left Weymouth Bay; as we went on we came on a small river, and saw no blacks there; as we proceeded we gathered nondas, and lived upon them and the meat. We stopped at a little creek and it came on raining, and Costigan shot himself; in putting his saddle under the tarpaulin, a string caught the trigger and the ball went in under the right arm and came out at his back under the shoulder.

We went on this morning all of us, and stopped at another creek in the evening, and the next morning we killed a horse named Browney, smoked him that night and went on next day, taking as much of the horse as we could with us, and went on about a mile and then turned back again to where we killed the horse, because Costigan was very bad and in much pain; we went back again because there was no water; then Mr Kennedy and I had dinner there, and went on in the afternoon leaving Dunn, Costigan and Luff at the creek.

This was at Pudding-pan Hill, near Shelburne Bay. Mr Kennedy called it Pudding-pan Hill.

We left some horse meat with the three men at Pudding-pan Hill, and carried some with us on a pack horse. Mr Kennedy wanted to make great haste when he left this place, in order to get the doctor to go down to the men that were ill. This was about three weeks after leaving Weymouth Bay. One horse was left with the three men at Pudding-pan Hill, and we (Kennedy and myself) took with us three horses. The three men were to remain there until Mr Kennedy and myself had gone to and returned from Cape York for them. Mr Kennedy told Luff and Dunn when he left them if Costigan died they were to come along the beach till they saw the ship, and then to fire a gun; he told them he would not be long away, so it was not likely they would move from there for some time. They stopped to take care of the man that was shot; we (me and Mr Kennedy) killed a horse for them before we came away.