The Explorers (20 page)

One of the men who had taken the dogs out after kangaroos fell in with a party of natives, among whom were some women and children. Two of the men accompanied him to the tent. It was evident from the whole tenor of their behaviour that they had previously heard of white people (most probably from the settlement at Newcastle). Their appearance was most miserable, their features approached deformity and their persons were disgustingly filthy. Their small attenuated limbs seemed scarcely able to support their bodies and their entire person formed a marked contrast to the fine and manly figures of their brethren in the interior. We gave them a small turtle which we had just caught in the river, and they sat down to dress it instantly. In fact, their cooking was very simple; the fire soon separated the shell from the meat, which with the entrails was devoured in a few minutes. Some of the people went to visit their camp, where they found eight or ten men, but the women and children were sent away. The same jealousy of women exists throughout the interior.

The great number of fallen trees was in some measure accounted for by the men observing about a dozen trees on fire near this camp, no doubt the more easily to expel the opossums, rats and other vermin which inhabit their hollows. We were not successful with our lines, though the depth and breadth of the river had made us a little sanguine. There did not appear any great marks of flood; none was seen exceeding five feet in height, which led us to conclude its source was not very distant. This river was named Sydney, as we this day crossed the meridian of that town.†

September 8—We proceeded up Sydney River to the southeast about three miles before we could find a convenient place to cross, as the stream ran with great rapidity over a rocky bottom. The country on either side sloped to the river with gradual declension and was an open forest country. On crossing the river, we passed through some noble forests of stringybark, growing generally on the sides and ridges of stony barren hills. These forests extended above two miles from the east of the river, after which the country became perfectly open, and of a level or rather alternately rising surface.

To the north and north-east the river was beautiful, the same description of country extending as far as the eye could reach, with no elevated points or ridges to obstruct it. Indeed I am clearly of opinion that if we had kept a more northerly course from Lushington Valley we should have avoided the rugged though fine country we have passed through for the last two days. The determination of all the hills and slopes is northerly, and the rivers which we have crossed have also taken the same direction.

We proceeded about nine miles farther through the finest open country, or rather park, imaginable; the general quality of the soil excellent, though of a stronger and more tenacious description than farther westerly. We halted in a fine and spacious valley, where art, so far as it is an auxiliary of beauty, would have been detrimental to the fresher and simpler garb of nature. This valley was watered by a fine brook, and at a distance of a mile we saw several fires, at which appeared many natives. Upon discovering us, however, they immediately departed.

I think that the most fastidious sportsman would have derived ample amusement during our day's journey. He might without moving have seen the finest coursing, from the commencement of the chase to the death of the game; and when tired of killing kangaroos, he might have seen emus hunted with equal success. We numbered swans and ducks among our acquisitions, which in truth were caught without much exertion on our part, or deviating in the least from our course. Granite and a hard whinstone were the most predominant among the stones. Small pieces of quartz and loose rotten slates covered the tracks, on which grew some of the finest stringybark trees I ever saw.

† Allan Cunningham, who was on this expedition, mentions in his diary that Oxley intended to remove the skull for studies in craniometry.

† Sydney River: now the MacDonald River.

H
AMILTON
H
UME

They Quarrelled about the Frying-Pan, 1824

The names Hume and Hovell have been inextricably linked in the minds of countless Australian schoolchildren. In my case, it was some time before I could comprehend precisely what this ‘human hovel' was or had achieved; and how their exploration was linked to the Hume Highway which our family travelled each Christmas holidays on visits to country relatives.

Hume and Hovell started just south of Sydney at Hume's farm on 17 October 1824 and ten weeks later looked out on the waters of Corio Bay. It appears from this passage—taken from the third edition of Hume's account, published posthumously fifty years after their journey—that the explorer would turn in his grave if he knew that posterity had linked his name so closely with that of William Hovell. We join the pair on 22 October 1824 as they attempt to cross the Murrumbidgee River.

Returning to the camp, I immediately set to work, took the wheels off my cart, covered the body of it with my tarpaulin and made of it a very excellent and serviceable punt. This expedient I had seen adopted by Mr Surveyor Meehan, in the year 1817, when crossing Bong-Bong River while flooded.

Thomas Boyd, who is an excellent swimmer, and myself, swam across the river with a line in our teeth, and thus established a communication between either bank; when, with much trouble and not a little danger, the whole party, with the cattle and stores, were safely landed on the other side…

Thomas Boyd states his recollection of our crossing the Murrumbidgee as follows: ‘When we came to the Murrumbidgee we found it very high. Captain Hovell was discouraged at this and wished to turn back. I heard him say to Mr Hume, “We shall never get on with our expedition, we cannot cross those rivers.”

‘Mr Hume replied, “If you think you can't you may go back, for I mean to go on.”

‘Mr Hovell then asked, “How do you mean to get across this river?”

‘Mr Hume answered, “That's best known to myself; I'll soon get over. Boyd, you get a tomahawk.”

‘I then went with Mr Hume and we cut a canoe, but it would not answer: the bark cracked. When we returned to the camp Mr Hovell was doing nothing. Mr Hume then took his cart to pieces, made a punt of it with the tarpaulin, with which we crossed the men and the supplies. Our method was this. Mr Hume and I had stout fishing lines made fast to us, which were attached to the punt, and we swam and dragged the punt to and fro. Mr Hovell could swim, but gave us little or no assistance in getting across…'

James Fitzpatrick says, ‘We crossed the Murrumbidgee, near Yass, by making Mr Hume's cart into a punt, taking it off the wheels, and covering the body of it with his tarpaulin. Mr Hovell had no hand in this, neither doing nor suggesting it. It was Mr Hume did it. Mr Hovell's cart was taken across the Murrumbidgee in Mr Hume's.'

From these statements it will be evident that my associate, had he been dependent on his own resources and left to his own shifts, would not, under the circumstances, have crossed the Murrumbidgee, though he might have proceeded to trace it downwards, and by so doing, he would have acted, so far, according to the instructions furnished for our guidance.

After crossing the river and advancing a day's journey or more, we found ourselves hemmed in by the mountains, and camped for two nights on the Narrengullen Meadows. In order to find an outlet Mr Hovell took one direction and I took another. I was fortunate enough to hit upon an outlet, and through it we were able to extricate ourselves, though with no small difficulty and toil.

On this occasion Mr Hovell lost himself for part of two days and, when I found him, he was actually, but unsuspectingly, travelling back in the direction of Yass or Bowning…He lost himself and his road. I did not.

Thomas Boyd relates: ‘While camped at Narrengullen, Mr Hume went in one direction and Mr Hovell in another to seek for an outlet. I accompanied Mr Hovell; we two got lost, and were out all night, away from the camp and the rest of the party. About seven or eight o'clock next morning I heard Mr Hume firing guns for us, on which I remarked to Mr Hovell that we were out of our latitude altogether. He asked me, how? I replied that I judged from the direction from which the guns sounded. We made in that direction and shortly met Mr Hume looking for us. We returned with him to the camp.

‘I remarked to Captain Hovell in the night, when we were out, that I would not be out another night with him—no more was I. In fact he never put himself forward in any single thing afterwards. This was his first and last expedition by himself. He never slept all night.'

‘I recollect,' says Angel, ‘of Mr Hovell and some of his men losing themselves, and Mr Hume being out looking for them and firing guns until he met in with them. I know well, from our own talk among ourselves, that none of the men had any confidence in Captain Hovell. We had no dependence on his taking us through. In fact, he was the worst man in the party, excepting Claude.'

On Tuesday, the 26th, we were engaged in sending the carts and supplies across the Cooradigby River, and finding ourselves in a difficult country we were compelled to leave the carts, harness, and part of our supplies. I took my tarpaulin with me. Mr Hovell left his. We had then to use the pack saddles and, owing to the cattle not being accustomed to them, they gave us great trouble, as well as occasioning great delay.

It may be asked why such a seemingly trivial matter as the leaving of Mr Hovell's tarpaulin, and the taking of mine forward, should be so pointedly mentioned. The reason is very obvious when its use at the crossing of the Murrumbidgee is remembered. I calculated (‘accidentally' or not) that we would encounter other rivers as formidable as the Murrumbidgee and that the tarpaulin being at hand would serve us a good turn again. My readers will judge whether my fellow traveller displayed the smallest foresight when he left his tarpaulin after he had both witnessed and experienced the usefulness of such an article so shortly before. Had I not taken mine, as will be seen, the expedition must have returned. One cause of our success, simple as it may appear, was my sticking to my tarpaulin, and lugging it along through all our weary journey.

A few days afterwards we crossed the Tumut River. As we advanced I found we were getting into too high a country, for the Snowy Mountains (the Australian Alps) were observed crossing our course. I proposed that we should take a direction more westerly, in order to avoid the formidable barrier which threatened to intercept our way—but Mr Hovell dissented from my proposal.

After some wrangling and disputing, each being positive of the correctness of his own opinion, we resolved to part company and follow each his own course. Accordingly we did separate. Mr Hovell held his course south; I steered mine west. However, when my party turned into camp and lighted the fire for the night, great, indeed, was my surprise to hear one of my men call out, ‘Here comes Mr Hovell.'

And, sure enough, there he was with his man Boyd running down our tracks. If my fellow traveller had had any confidence in himself, would he, after a lapse of a few hours, have deserted his determination to go south, returned upon my footsteps, and adopted for the future my westerly course?

Thomas Boyd says of the separation and its result at this time: ‘Nothing worthy of notice occurred until two or three days after we came in sight of the Snowy Mountains, after having crossed the Tumut, when Mr Hume and Mr Hovell had a great difference about the course they should go. After quarrelling over it they parted, each going his own way. I had to go with Mr Hovell. After travelling some distance I represented to him that the course we were steering led us right among the Snowy Mountains, and that if we once got among them we could never get out, and must be all lost. He agreed with me; and at his desire I sought and found Mr Hume's track, ran it down, and we joined him and his party about dusk the same evening, just as they had camped for the night.'

Angel says: ‘I recollect Mr Hume and Mr Hovell having a dispute about which course we were to travel after we came in sight of the Snowy Mountains. After some wrangling they separated, each going his own course. Before they parted they had a row about who was to have the tent; they were going to cut it in two, but Mr Hume let Mr Hovell have it. Then they quarrelled about the frying-pan* and broke it in pulling at it. It was not long, however, before Mr Hovell came after us, a few hours or half a day…'

After the rupture we again joined forces in the manner described, and travelled together to the Hume River, which we reached early on the 16th of November. I named it the Hume in compliment to my father. We crossed it above its junction with the Mitta Mitta. On the 20th, and after travelling four or five miles, we came upon the latter river. On my getting ready to cross the Mitta Mitta, to my surprise Mr Hovell objected, and volunteered an address to the men, in which he pointed out, as well as he could, the hazards existing in the rear, suggesting the probability of others ahead, and appealed to their sense of personal safety, in conclusion asking whether it would not be the most prudent step to turn back, recross the Hume, and trace down its nearest bank, according to part of our instructions. Mr Hovell appealed to Claude Bossawa, a man of mine, and asked his opinion; of course he agreed with Mr Hovell.