The Bushman — Life in a New Country

This adventure of our old friends of the Bramble appears to me sufficiently interesting to excuse my having wandered through Torres Straits in order to record it.

CHAPTER 26.

SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERIES.—KANGAROO HUNTING.—EMUS.—LOST IN THE BUSH.

There can be no doubt as to the truth of the axiom that "facts are stubborn things." Right or wrong, they seem to persist in a resolution to force conviction upon a man however reluctant he may be.

Sturdy facts are never wanting in support of erroneous views; and more false conclusions are drawn from them than from the subtlest arguments of the sophist.

When your theory is once confirmed by a fact, the question is considered decided, and no further argument is admissible. I had two theories not long ago, the pursuit and investigation of which gave me a good deal of pleasure; they were built upon facts, and therefore they were indisputable.

My first theory was upon the amount of evaporation at Perth during the summer months.

The excessive dryness of the atmosphere proved that the evaporation at the end of the rainy, or winter season, must be very great indeed. My friend, Mr. H., had an hygrometer, which he kept in a small room adjoining that in which he usually sat; and this hygrometer afforded the ground-work for our theories. It proved most satisfactorily that the evaporation exceeded every thing of the kind known in any other part of the globe. It was clear that our atmosphere was drier than that of a brick-kiln when burning its best. But the great beauty and novelty of the theory was, that the evaporation was greater at night than in the day time.

This certainly puzzled us a good deal at first; but when once you are sure of your facts, it is astonishing how soon you come to mould your theory so as to make it perfectly agree with them, and manage to reconcile yourself to the most startling contradictions. After satisfying himself of the truth of the fact—that the evaporation was really greater by night than by day—Mr. H. proceeded to prove philosophically that nothing could be more reasonable than such a circumstance. From all that I could make out of his arguments, which were extremely logical and ingenious, it seemed clear that as every thing in this country is diametrically opposite to every thing in the old country, it was perfectly consistent with the regulations of nature in Australia, that evaporation should be greater at night than during the day time. Moreover, he placed great reliance upon the attraction of the moon.

For my part, seeing that facts were on his side, I embraced his views with ardour; and went about as an apostle, proclaiming the new tidings far and wide. It was one of those astonishing truths in science that come suddenly and unexpectedly upon mankind—like those connected with electricity—that take the reason captive, and are beyond the reach of human investigation. Men usually appeared incredulous when the theory was first broached to them; but when convinced of the fact, as proved indisputably by the hygrometer, they were compelled to acknowledge the truth, and forthwith looked upon it as a matter of course.

As the weather grew warmer—when the thermometer stood daily at about 86 degrees in a cool room—the nocturnal evaporation increased. At length it grew to such a pitch, that the tube of the hygrometer containing the water was exhausted in a couple of nights. Notwithstanding the astonishment of Mr. H., he was enraptured at the triumphant confirmation of his theory. He devoted every moment he could spare from public duties, to the compilation of a learned and voluminous treatise upon the subject. He looked upon himself as destined to be considered one of the master-philosophers of the age, the promulgator of a new and wondrous theory, based not only upon sound argument, but upon long observation and indisputable facts. When any one ventured to raise a doubt, he would smile with that ineffable sweetness which distinguishes a man conscious of his superior knowledge and sources of information. I, his enthusiastic adherent, picked up the crumbs of instruction that fell from his table; and dealt forth mysterious hints of the scientific errors about to be corrected by the observations and treatises of Mr. H., who was now generally known to have forwarded an account of his discoveries to some of the learned Societies of London; and the English papers were perused with avidity, in the hope of finding that due honour had been paid to his merits.

As he walked along the streets he was looked upon with additional reverence. He had raised the renown of Western Australia, and was now considered to be at once its decus et tutamen. The idlers who congregated in small knots about luncheon-time at the corners of the streets, began to talk of a statue in the market-place.

Suddenly, however, the philosopher secluded himself from the vulgar gaze. The public wondered, and then became alarmed. The philosopher had taken to his bed. After some days I was admitted to his presence, and found him greatly enfeebled for want of rest. It was evident there was something that weighed upon his mind. After many ineffectual efforts, many sighs and some blushes, he faltered forth a confession that he feared our theory, (he seemed now, for the first time, kindly solicitous to share the merit of the discovery,) of evaporation being greater at night than in the day-time, was not well founded. An electric shock, shivering the funny-bones of both elbows, could not have startled me more. What did he mean? He continued, that one night whilst engaged upon a new hygrometrical treatise, he had sat up till a very late hour; the door of the room which contained the instrument was open, and the light from his lamp fell directly upon it. Absorbed in profound speculations, his eye occasionally rested upon the little instrument which stood upon a table. There it was—the pillar of his fame. It seemed to dilate in dimensions until it rivalled the column in the Place Vendome, and on the top of it was a figure, less sturdy than that of Napoleon. Suddenly his vision was broken, and his thoughts were recalled from the future to the present, by seeing a living object move along the table, and quietly approach the foot of his column. Appalled and paralyzed, he sat immovable whilst he beheld an actual mouse, unrestrained by any scientific considerations, place its profane snout in the bowl of the hygrometer, and drink deliberately until its thirst was satisfied. It then retired, and other mice soon came trotting along the table and did the same.

Mr. H. is a man of great self-control. He did not tear his remaining locks, or commit any other rash act, but with all the calmness of despair he set fire to the unfinished treatise, and saw it consumed; then he retired to bed, a desolate individual, and rose not again for several days.

My next theory was entirely my own. I claimed all the merit of it, and felt the utmost pangs of jealousy when any one ventured to assert that HE had long ago suspected it. Built upon a solid foundation of facts, I maintained an opinion entirely at variance with that of Professor Owen and certain Parisian professors, and satisfied myself, at least, that the young of the kangaroo, and of other marsupial animals, is produced, not in the usual way, but from the teat of the dam. And although this theory is, and must be erroneous, I can even yet scarcely bring myself to believe it so—with such fidelity do we cling to error. There are many men in the colony who have been for years in the constant, almost daily, habit of killing kangaroos, and they have consequently had opportunities of observing the young ones in every stage of development. Females have been killed with young ones hanging to the nipple, about half an inch long—the form not fully developed, a mere foetus, presenting no appearance of active vitality. The nipple to which it is attached is not merely placed in the mouth of the foetus, but extends into its stomach, where it serves the purposes of the umbilical cord in other animals, whilst the lips grow round it, so that it cannot be removed without rupturing the skin. A little older, and it becomes evidently possessed of vitality—a quickened foetus. The pouch of the doe is closed up until the birth of the young one; and gradually enlarges to accommodate the inhabitant.

There are other marsupial animals, of the size of rabbits, that are found with eight or ten young ones, or rather small foetuses, similarly attached to the nipples of the parent.

Now I could not conceive how creatures with long sharp claws, though provided with flexible wrists or joints, should be able to take up the newly produced little lump of inanimate flesh, and thrust a long, soft, yielding nipple down into the depths of the stomach. I collected a number of FACTS to prove the contrary—but the question is now considered to be set at rest by the observations of French naturalists, and therefore I have quietly strangled my theory, but am still occasionally haunted by its ghost.

I may mention here that male kangaroos are sometimes found provided with pouches; but these, I conceive, are lusus Naturae.

This allusion to kangaroos (being good for nothing else) may serve as an introduction to a hunting excursion. A party of us started from Perth, equipped in the manner already described in the chapter upon Wild Cattle.

We rode to the Canning to breakfast, at the house of the——s, where we found the table ready spread with coffee, grilled fowls, eggs, ham, etc. The room was a good one, having French windows, looking out upon park-like scenery, among which the Canning River pursued its lazy course. There was also a piano belonging to the sister of our hosts, then absent on a visit. One of her brothers informed us that he had availed himself of her absence to abstract sundry of the wires from the piano in order to make bell-wires, which he thought was turning the piano to good account.

After breakfast we loaded our bullock-cart with our goods, and left it in charge of a servant whom we appointed to meet us at a certain spot where we were to bivouac for the night. The only disagreeable part of travelling in Australia is the scarcity of water, except at the end of winter, when all the gullies are filled. Unless, therefore, the ground be well known, it is always advisable to take a native, who can inform you where the pools or springs are situated. Four of us set out, well mounted, and attended by a native on foot, and five kangaroo dogs. These dogs are descended from a cross between a bloodhound and a greyhound, and combine strength, fleetness, scent, and sight. As it was the middle of winter (late in June) the air was cool and pleasant, and the sun bright and joyous, as he always is here. We were all in high spirits, anticipating excellent sport, as the country to which we were going abounds with game of great variety—kangaroos, emus, quail, and turkeys, or bustards. A rough coarse scrub, interspersed with small quantities of grass, overspread the sandy soil. The only animal we saw for some time was an opossum, which the native discovered in a tree and climbed up for. I examined its pouch, but there was no young one within it. At length we caught a glimpse of a kangaroo hopping along at a distance, and we galloped off in full chase, but he was too far ahead for the dogs to make anything of it; so we lost him. Disconcerted and vexed we drew together again after a short run, but had scarcely done so before we emerged upon an open prairie, where on our right we beheld three kangaroos hopping away at a gentle pace. the kangaroo uses only his hind legs in running. The leg presses the ground from the hock to the toes, and its strong sinews enable the animal to bound forward with immense leaps; the heavy tail vibrating behind keeps him steady. Four of the dogs rushed after the game, followed by all the horsemen, at full gallop, hallooing and shouting vociferously. A more animated sight could scarcely be conceived; three graceful kangaroos bounding away in a line, with four large greyhounds laying well after them, and the hunters chiveying along, and dashing through brushwood and thickets like whirlwinds. The kangaroos, however, fairly beat us; they gained a thick wood, dashed through it and into a swamp beyond, and there we lost sight of them. We all returned to the side of the wood, and waited for the dogs, who came back with hanging heads and drooping tail, completely blown. All returned but one—the oldest and most sagacious of them. He had not gone with the four which followed the heels of the kangaroos, but had made a short cut to the left, so that he was in the wood almost as soon as the kangaroos, whilst the other dogs were still a long way behind. We waited patiently for old Tip (of whom honourable mention has been made before); his master, Tom H., asserting confidently that he had killed. At length as we were standing talking together, we suddenly perceived Tip among us. His master examined his mouth, and declared he had killed; then saying, "Show, Tip, show!" the dog turned round, and trotted off before us; and going into the swamp took us to the spot where the kangaroo lay dead.

It is not all kangaroo dogs that can be taught to show game, and those that do so are therefore highly prized. It is a very pleasing sight to observe how proud a dog is of this accomplishment. He will come quietly back to his master, and oftentimes lay himself down as if he were afraid the other dogs should suspect he had got something to tell, and would run off in search of it. And when his master gives the signal, he deliberately proceeds to lead the way, snarling at the other dogs whenever they run before him, and seem likely to arrive first at the spot. Sometimes he tries to deceive them by going in a wrong direction, and when the others have started off, full of eagerness, as if they themselves (the senseless fools!) were inviting people to follow, and were anxious to show them the game, the old dog will rapidly turn aside, evidently laughing in his sleeve, and dash forward to the spot where he left the carcase. There you will find him standing over it; and as you ride up he will give a faint wag of his tail, as though he were glad that you are pleased with him, and yet he cannot help feeling that he is not properly rewarded. His gaunt ribs and melancholy eye speak of his hungry stomach; he seems to remember that he receives from his rough master more kicks than caresses, but still he does his duty, and will do so to the last; and denies himself even a mouthful of the prey, which but for him, would lie undiscovered in the thicket. I used to know an old show-dog who displayed so much thought and sagacity, that I never was in his company without feeling for him a certain degree of respect. Whenever struck by brutes of lower order than himself, he did not howl or display his teeth, but slunk aside with a look of deep sorrow and reproach.

In the evening we bivouacked near a small pool of water, where the cart joined us, according to previous arrangement. The horses were tethered out and fed; a good fire was kindled, and with kangaroo steaks, cold fowls and ham, and brandy and water, we managed to make a tolerable supper. A fence against the wind was constructed of upright sticks, and leaves of the black-boy (Xanthorea, or grass-tree) resembling rushes, only brittle; and with a good fire at our feet we were exceedingly warm and comfortable. The wild dogs uttered their doleful, wailing cries around our camp during the night, and caused our own frequently to sally forth and give them chase.

We had kangaroo curry for breakfast next morning; and having fed our horses, and sounded to saddle, set out again in pursuit of game.

Proceeding across some plains, interspersed with swamps and thickets, we soon perceived a herd of about a dozen kangaroos feeding and hopping about. Keeping a covert in line before us, we tried to get near them, but they soon made off, bounding away like a herd of deer, which they much resemble at a distance. The dogs started after them at full speed; and with loud halloos and bounding hearts the horsemen spurred their steeds, and scoured along the plain. There are, unfortunately, no fences in this country, but there are a thousand worse obstructions—fallen trees, thick clumps of black-boys extending right across the plain, and therefore not to be avoided; woods through which the game dashes at speed, and where you must follow at the risk of striking head or limbs against the trunks or branches of trees, or else you will be thrown out. Then of course you don't like to be last, and you don't like to allow the gallant captain, who is spurring at your side, the opportunity of bragging at mess that he alone kept near the dogs, which you know he would be delighted to do. So, determined to ride against the captain at any rate, you keep your horse and yourself well together, and flinch at nothing; dashing through thickets, tearing over rough ground, steering between trees, ducking your head under boughs, and twitching up first one leg and then the other to save them from being smashed against black-boys or banksias. You clear the wood, and emerge again upon a plain; the kangaroos are bounding along, some three hundred yards in advance, the dogs lying well up to them; and now the latter have fixed upon one of the herd, whom they pursue with resolute fierceness. The others escape into friendly thickets, but the doomed one, an old buck, some six feet in height when resting on his haunches, still holds out, though his enemies are fast gaining upon him.

At length, finding escape impossible, he makes for a broad mahogany tree, where he suddenly comes to bay. The dogs hesitate to rush in upon him, his eye gleams with such deadly ferocity, whilst he sits erect upon his haunches, ready to dart the long claw of his hind leg into the first assailant who comes within reach.

A kangaroo in this position is no despicable enemy. He has great power in his limbs; and if he happens to strike a dog with his claw, he inflicts a grievous wound, and sometimes tears out his entrails, and kills him on the spot. He rushes at men with the same fury, and tries to clasp them with his fore-paws whilst he strikes at them with his hind-legs. I rode up to the animal in question, dismounted, and struck him a rap on the head with a broken bough, as he rushed towards me with a fierce hissing noise. As he staggered at the blow, the dogs darted upon him and quickly despatched him.

We had several other good runs before luncheon, and then baited our horses, and allowed them to rest for two or three hours. Whilst riding towards our bivouac in the afternoon, a native who was walking at my side, and who had accompanied us all day, stopped suddenly, and, pointing with his finger, said, "Emu!" About a mile distant across the prairie were two of those large birds quietly feeding. The dogs were immediately called together, fresh vigour seemed to animate the whole party, and we proceeded to give chase in high spirits. Emus are sometimes shot with the rifle, but the usual mode of obtaining them is by hunting them with kangaroo dogs. If you happen to come near enough to them without raising alarm, they may frequently be detained, and even attracted almost up to your stirrup by WHISTLING. I have known this to be repeatedly tried with success. When you begin to whistle, the emu lifts up its head and listens with attention; soon, delighted with the sound, he walks leisurely in the direction from which it comes; then, perceiving a human being, he pauses, seems irresolute, and finally walks round and round you in circles gradually lessening, until he approaches within a few yards. If his confidence be not repaid with a bullet, he will, after gratifying his curiosity by a good stare, quietly walk away through his native woods. Emus are frequently speared by the natives, who, by taking care to stand stock-still the moment the creature lifts up its head, manage to approach within a few yards of them while feeding. Though the savage may have his hand raised in the act of throwing the spear, he remains fixed in that attitude whilst the emu takes a survey of him. Perceiving only an object without motion, the bird takes him for a tree, and continues to graze, falling a victim, like other innocent things, to a misplaced confidence in its own security.

"Death of the Kangaroo"

Emu Hunt

The emus ran fast, and gave us a long chase; but at length the headmost dog caught hold of the extended flapper of one of the birds, and arrested its progress; the others, coming up, soon pulled him to the ground, and by the time we reached the spot he was dead. The feathers from the tail were distributed among the party, and placed in our caps; and the legs being cut off, the rest of the bird was abandoned. The legs alone afford any meat, which is by no means a delicacy, and resembles coarse beef. Whilst the process of cutting up was going on, my attention was attracted to the movements of old Tip, who had stolen away from the party, and was now, ventre a terre, scouring along the edge of a belt of trees about a quarter of a mile from us. His master in vain tried to recall him, and I set off to see what he was about. Following him through the wood, I perceived him at the other side in hot pursuit of half-a-dozen kangaroos, that were bounding away some hundred yards ahead of him. It was in vain to attempt to recall him, so I foolishly followed the chase, though it was leading far away from the direction I wanted to take. Old Tip held on unflaggingly, as though this were his first run that day; and for nearly two miles we dashed along through woods and across prairies, until I began to wish myself back with my friends. At length we lost the game in a vast swamp, covered with thick underwood, in which my horse floundered for some time in a fearful manner. Thinking it worse to return than to push through, we struggled on, in momentary danger of sinking for ever, and after great exertions got upon solid ground again. When dismounted, to rest the horse, who panted and trembled with the efforts he had made, I called for Tip till the woods rang again, but all in vain. At last I saw a single kangaroo, a fresh one of immense size, break cover, with Tip about forty yards in his rear. In the ardour of the chase, all prudential considerations were given to the winds; and cheering on the gallant hound, I followed the game more determinedly than ever. And what a race that villain kangaroo led us!—through thickets where my hunting-shirt was torn into strips, my arms and legs covered with bruises, and my face lacerated with boughs that were not to be avoided. The villain doubled like a hare, and led us in such various directions, that I fancied we must have turned upon our steps and gone past the spot where I had parted from my friends. Unless a man be very well accustomed to the bush, he is certain to lose himself in a few minutes. One clump of trees is so like another—the thick swamps, the open plains, all bear such a general resemblance to one another, that you feel quite confounded whilst trying to recollect whether you have really seen them before, and can form some tolerable guess as to your position. The kangaroo was now approaching the foot of the long, even, uninteresting range of the Darling Hills; his pace was slow, he made his leaps with difficulty, and would soon have been caught, had not poor Tip been equally dead beat.

It was evident the old dog could scarcely drag himself along, but still he refused to give in. My horse, exhausted with floundering in the swamp, was completely knocked up; and for some time I had only been able to push him along at a jog-trot. Still I was no more willing to give up the chase than old Tip. It seemed to have become a point of honour that I should not desert the hound; and moreover, feeling myself completely lost, I did not like to part from my companion; and, above all, it would never do to let the kangaroo escape after all the trouble he had given us. So we all three continued to work along as best we could.

At last my poor horse happened to set his foot in an empty water-hole, and too weak to recover himself, came down on his shoulder and side with great violence. I threw myself off as he fell, but could not save my foot from being crushed beneath the saddle, and so both horse and man lay extended on the ground. I could just see the hound and kangaroo still struggling onward, and almost close together. The horse made no attempt to rise, and I tried in vain to extricate my foot; at length I managed to flog him up, and then raised myself with difficulty. I had not suffered much damage, though bruised, and in some pain, but my poor horse had sprained his shoulder, and was completely hors de combat. On looking about for the chase, I fancied I could perceive the dog lying on a little rising ground, a few hundred yards distant; and leaving the horse, I hopped after the game. On arriving at the spot, I found the kangaroo and the dog lying side by side, both alive, but completely exhausted; the one unable to do any injury, and the other to get away. Securing the dog with my handkerchief, I sat down, waiting till he should be able to walk. In a few minutes the kangaroo lifted up his head, and looked about him; the dog sat up, panting as though his heart would burst, and took no notice of the other. The kangaroo, scrambling to its feet, hopped away a few yards, and then stood still again. "Go along, old fellow!" said I, "you have done us abundance of mischief, but it would be criminal to kill you when I cannot carry home even your tail—so farewell!" Off he jumped, and was soon lost to view, leaving us alone—three miserable cripples, far from any shelter, and (so far as I was concerned) not knowing at all how to rejoin our friends. Tip being now able to limp on three legs, and myself upon one, we returned to the unhappy steed, who remained where I had left him, hanging down his head, and looking the image of woe.

In vain I tried to determine the direction I ought to take; trees and swamps were on all sides of me, and I could not decide whether my friends were now on my right-hand or my left. I remembered that our place of rendezvous appeared to be nearly opposite an opening in the hills, some six or eight miles distant; but there were openings in the hills on each side of me, and which was the one to be sought I could not determine. I therefore resolved to retrace the foot-marks of my horse, if possible; and set out leading the animal, having Tip limping at my side, and every now and then looking up as though he felt for the ill plight in which we all appeared. It soon became evident that the horse must be left behind; and therefore removing his saddle and bridle, I placed them at the foot of a tree, and gave him his liberty.*

[footnote] *Six months afterwards he was caught among the horses of a settler on the Serpentine, perfectly sound and in excellent condition.

After going some distance, I came within view of an extensive swamp, which I fancied formed part of that I had so much difficulty in crossing. Turning to the right, I followed its course for some time, hoping to get round it, but it seemed to extend towards the hills, cutting off all farther progress. The sun was now about to set, and getting desperate, I plunged into the thicket, and tried to push through the swamp. There was no water, but the immense quantities of bind-weed, and other thickly-growing plants, quite defied every attempt, and I was obliged to turn back again. Tip and myself had now to retrace our steps. It was getting dusk, and the state of affairs looked uncomfortable. Again we tried in vain to cross the swamp, which soon afterwards receded farther from the hills, and left a broad plain before us, which we traversed in the course of half an hour.

My foot seemed to get better with exercise, but night had now set in, and it was useless to attempt making farther progress, when we could not distinguish an object thirty feet in advance. I now found myself stumbling up a rising ground covered with trees; and here I lay down, with Tip at my side, to wait as patiently as possible for morning. The dog, I imagine, had found some water in the swamp, as he did not now seem to be suffering from thirst as I was myself. He was soon asleep, and I envied him, for hours elapsed before I could find repose. The land-wind, sweeping down from the hill-side, moaned through the trees; the rising moon shed her sickly and distorting light upon the bushes around; and bruised and stiff, hungry, thirsty, and uncomfortable, I felt by no means delighted with my quarters. A fire would have been agreeable, but there were no means of procuring one. Sleep at last befriended me, and I did not wake until the sun began to shed his first rays upon the tops of the trees.

On rising I found myself exceedingly stiff, and by no means in good condition for walking, but there was no choice; and when Tip had got upon his legs, and given himself a good stretch and yawn, and licked my hand, as much as to say he had no intention of leaving me in the lurch, we started on our doubtful journey. In vain I tried to encourage the dog to lead the way; he would not stir from my side. Only once he darted after a kangaroo-rat, and caught it before it had gone twenty yards. This afforded a breakfast which I envied him. I now pushed on towards the coast, but was continually intercepted by thick swamps impossible to penetrate, and turned from the right direction. I looked about for water, and found some at length in a muddy hole. It was most refreshing, and revived my spirits, which had begun to flag considerably.

Mid-day was long past, and I was still rambling over plains of coarse grass, penetrating into woods, and struggling through swamps; worn almost to death with fatigue and hunger, and the pain of my ankle, now greatly swollen, I sat down at last at the foot of a mahogany-tree in order to gain a little rest.

I knew that the hills were behind me, and the sea must be somewhere before me, but as to my precise locality, and the distance of the nearest settler's house, I was quite at a loss. In vain I tried to satisfy myself as to whether I was much to the south of the bivouac. I was growing dizzy with hunger and weariness, and no longer felt any wonder at the confusion of mind which seizes upon those who are lost in the wilderness. During the day, I had repeatedly cooeyed as loudly as I could, in the faint hope of attracting the attention of my friends; but no voice responded.

It was now nearly five o'clock in the evening, and I had the prospect before me of spending another night in solitude, and felt some misgivings as to whether it would not be the last of my existence.

I tried to struggle on a little farther, as it was possible that I might be close to some farm on the Serpentine; but it was difficult to move along. Tip seemed to be getting tired of this slow progress; he grew fidgety, and I fancied he had formed the base resolution of leaving me to myself. Suddenly he started off upon our traces, and I was alone without a friend.

In a few minutes I heard behind me a distant shout, and immediately afterwards a loud cooey met my ear. Oh how thankfully I heard it, and answered it as loudly as I could! And then, having returned grateful acknowledgments to the Almighty for this seasonable relief, I began to walk towards the sounds, which were repeated from minute to minute. Not long afterwards I perceived a party of natives, followed by men on horseback, emerging from the trees. The latter galloped towards me, waving their hats, and shouting with friendly joy. It is due to Tip to state that he reached me first, and gave his congratulations with warm sincerity.

My friends had started at day-break with the natives, who had tracked my footsteps without once losing the trail. They had found the horse grazing near the place where I had left him, but he was too lame to be removed; the natives had fully accounted for every trace; they perceived that the dog and kangaroo had lain side by side, and that the latter had recovered first, and got away. They found and brought with them the saddle and bridle, and followed my steps to the swamp, through which they saw I had not been able to penetrate. And so they tracked me during the whole of the day, whilst I was only going farther and farther from my friends. I had wandered much more to the south than I expected; and now, mounting a horse, we all rode to a house on the Serpentine, where we were hospitably entertained, and where I continued until able to return to Perth.

CHAPTER 27.

THE COMET.—VITAL STATISTICS.—METEOROLOGY.

One evening in March, 1844, whilst standing at my gate enjoying the pleasant balmy air and the conversation of a friend, our attention was attracted to a luminous appearance in the sky immediately above the horizon. We fancied that a large ship must be on fire not a great distance from the coast.

The next evening, happening to leave the house at an early hour, my eye was immediately caught by a grant novelty in the heavens. A magnificent comet extended itself over an entire fifth of the firmament. Its tail reached to the belt of Orion, whilst its nucleus, a ball of fire resembling a star of the fourth magnitude, was scarcely a degree above the horizon. It looked like a fiery messenger rushing headlong down from the very presence of GOD, bound with dread tidings for some distant world. Beautiful, yet terrible messenger, it seemed to leave its long, fiery trace behind it in its passage through the heavens. The soul of the spectator was filled with the sense of its beauty, whilst admiration was sublimed into awe. Speaking to us strange and wonderful things of the hidden Holy of Holies which it seemed to have left, it passed on its headlong journey of billions and trillions of miles with the glad speed of a love-inspired emanation from the Most High. It left us to wonder at its transient visit, and to wish in vain for its return.*

[footnote] *This comet, having exactly the appearance I have described, was visible nearly a week, gradually disappearing in the northern heavens.

Whether it had or not any effect upon the season, I cannot say, but the ensuing six months were the most unhealthy period ever known in the colony. The natives, who were greatly alarmed by the sudden appearance of the comet, declared that it would cause many people to be mendik and die—so universal is the belief in the portentous and malign influence of these phenomena.

In general, as I have before observed, the climate is most salubrious. "The Comparative Statement of Deaths to the Population" proves the vast superiority of Western Australia in this respect, not only over Great Britain, but over neighbouring colonies. I refer to the able, interesting, and carefully-prepared Reports of G. F. Stone, Esq. the Colonial Registrar-General of Births, Marriages, and Deaths. Taking his data from the Parliamentary Reports of 1836, he deduces the following:

Comparative Statement of Deaths to the Population.

The opinions of medical men, published in different reports, a few of which happen now to lie before me, may prove interesting to some readers, and I therefore extract them briefly:—

J. M. Johnson, Esq. M.D. Surgeon of H.M.S. Sulphur:— "During the three years that H.M.S. Sulphur was employed on that station (Western Australia) not a single death, and very few important cases of disease occurred, notwithstanding the very great exposure of her men. When exploring the country for several days, and sometimes weeks, they have been exposed to the sun; fatigued in the evening after a day's excursion, slept in the open air, (and that repeatedly in wet weather,) and suffered no inconvenience. I have no hesitation in stating that such a life in any other climate would have been productive of the most serious sickness."

William Milligen, Esq. M.D. Surgeon 6th Dragoons:— "I have met with several individuals here, who, on leaving England, were great sufferers from dyspepsia, and diseases of the digestive organs, who have recovered their health in a wonderful degree since their arrival. Children thrive remarkably well; and I may add that every description of live stock, although collected from different countries—England, India, America, Africa, etc.—find here a congenial temperature."

Joseph Harris, Esq. Acting Government Surgeon:— "Nothing can be more delightful than the climate generally; and its invigorating influences on the human constitution, especially those of Europeans, render it more fit for invalids than any other in the world. Several persons arrived in the colony suffering from pulmonary and bronchial affections, asthma, phthisis, haemoptysis, or spitting of blood, hopeless of recovery in England, are now perfectly restored, or living in comparative health—measles and small-pox are unknown."

W. H. Sholl, Esq. Government Surgeon, pro tempore:— "From pulmonary complaints we are happily free; and even when these have gone to some length in other countries, removal to this climate has been of the highest possible benefit. Children are exempt from the diseases common to them in England;—small-pox, measles, scarlet-fever, and hooping-cough, are unknown here."

W. P. Dineley, Esq. Surgeon of Fremantle Gaol:— "We have almost a cloudless sky, a clear dry atmosphere, and a climate unsurpassed by any in the world."

Dr. Ferguson, of Australind:— "We have no fevers or epidemics here."

By the Registrar-General's Report for 1843, it appears that the births in Western Australia are about 1 to 24 83/158, which is a very high rate. Those readers who are fond of statistics will be pleased to learn the following rather curious fact:—In the year 1836, males were in respect to females, as about five to three, but during the following seven years, females increased 21 per cent. more than males; and the continued preponderance of female births promises speedily to adjust the balance of the sexes.

The Registrar-General in his Report for 1844, makes the following interesting observations:— "Supposing the whole population of the colony were now grown up and unmarried, out of every 100 males, as many as 67 could find wives.

"Supposing the total population UNDER TWELVE were now of age, and wished to marry; out of every 100 males 97 could find wives.

"Supposing the total population OF PERTH were now grown up, and unmarried, 87 out of every 100 males could find wives.

"But supposing the population OF PERTH UNDER TWELVE were grown up, and wished to marry, out of 100 FEMALES, only 85 could find husbands."

The temperature of the atmosphere is exceedingly dry, and therefore the heat is not oppressive, though the thermometer may stand at a high degree.

A rainy day in February or March is an extremely rare occurrence at Perth, though not unusual at Australind, a hundred miles southward.

In the hottest weather, farm-labourers work all day in the open air, and feel no more inconvenience than reapers do in England. This is owing to the dryness and elasticity of the atmosphere.

I have no recorded observations of a late date, but the following table is extracted from the journal of an obliging friend, Robert Dale, Esq., who, when a Lieutenant in the 63d regiment, was stationed some years in the colony.

The thermometer was kept in a cool house at Perth, from March, 1830 to June 1831.

CHAPTER 28.

THE BOTANY OF THE COLONY.

Baron Hugel, Dr. Lindley, and Sir William Hooker, have published lists of Western Australian shrubs and plants, but the most complete and elaborate work on the botany of Western Australia is the series of nineteen letters published in the "Inquirer," by Mr. Drummond, of Hawthornden, in the colony, and from them we shall compile the present chapter; but, interesting as they are in their fullest and most minute details to botanists, it is possible that they may be TOO descriptive and extend too much into detail for general readers, and we shall therefore abstain from giving a catalogue of the various indigenous plants, and confine our remarks to the more useful ones.* The first to which Mr. Drummond alludes is the blackboy, of which there are several varieties. The glaucus-leaved York blackboy is, however, the most important, and grows thirty feet in height without a branch. It is considered by the settlers the best material for thatch, and the young and tender leaves are found to be an agreeable vegetable, and also fodder for horses, goats, sheep, and cattle. The natives are particularly fond of the blackboy, whilst its sound old flower-stalks furnish them with the means of obtaining a light by friction. the native yam, of the class Dioeceae, is stated by Mr. Drummond to be the finest esculent vegetable the colony produces. The fungi, or mushrooms, are also palatable to the Aborigines; one species belonging to this order, and named the Boletus, is remarkable for possessing the properties of German tinder, when well dried, and for emitting a radiant light in its natural state.

[footnote] *This brief compilation is the work of Alexander Andrews, Esq.

There are seventy species of grasses. The genus stripa has several varieties, of which the seeds are injurious to sheep, penetrating into the wool, and sometimes into the carcase and causing death. By adopting the precaution of shearing before the seeds are ripe, this mischief is however obviated. Another description is distinguished as elegantissima, from its beautiful appearance, and is used as a decoration, and for ornamenting rooms.

The bulrush of Scripture is found here, and is used by coopers to stanch their work. A large jointed rush has also been found of great service, and introduced in the walls of houses to advantage, and some varieties of the Restiaceae are useful in thatch work; and in his sixth letter, Mr. Drummond mentions the buttack as very useful in tyings. A climbing species of the Thysanotus, near the Moore river, is much used by the natives as food. The Madge and the Guardine are roots from which the natives extract nutritious food; the pigs are also fond of them, and besides these there are other white roots used as food by the natives.

The oak-leaved Chenopodium is supposed to contain essential oil; it was formerly used by the settlers as a vegetable, and is proved to contain carbonate of soda, so that, as Mr. Drummond suggests, "it would be worth inquiry at what price we could afford barilla as an export." The Erythraea Australis is, we are informed, a good substitute, and is used as such, for hops; and one species of tobacco is indigenous to the colony. The sow-thistle of Swan River was, in the early days of the settlement, used as a vegetable, but is now eaten only by the domestic animals, by whom it is much relished. As a salad, it is said to be scarcely inferior to endive. The Helicrysum, a biennial of the Vasse district, is a grateful fodder for horses, and the Morna nitida for goats, sheep, and cattle, as are also several species of Picris and other shrubs. There is also a native celery, which forms a poor substitute for that of Europe; two varieties of this species are mentioned—the Conna, of which the roots are eaten by the natives after being peeled, and the Kukire, the foot of which resembles the carrot in appearance, with the smell and colour of the parsnip. The wild carrot is also an excellent vegetable, and from its root rich wine has been extracted. The order Eryngo has a species of which the roots when candied have great restorative powers. Of the Hederoma latifolia, Dr. Lindley remarks, that its half-ripe fruits, if sent to Europe, would give several original and valuable scents to the perfumer.

Of the sea-weeds, one particular species, supposed to be the Fucus amylaeceus, thrown in great quantities upon the coast, is mentioned as forming when boiled, sweetened, and spiced, a nutritious and beautiful jelly of a fine rose colour; and as it appears that it may be dried without injury and preserved for years, it would be of value as an export.

The catalogue of indigenous fruits is not very extensive, but one species, belonging to the order Epacrideae, is reported to bear very palatable berries. The Vasse apple, of the size of a peach, is stated when boiled with sugar to be an agreeable sweet-meat.

Another fruit, of the species Mesembryanthemum, is of a less pleasing flavour; but one of the same species, resembling the English gooseberry, is said to be delicious. Mr. Drummond also records the discovery, southward of the Vasse, of a nondescript shrub of about five feet in height, and bearing fruit as large as a middle-sized plum, of a fine purple colour, covered with a rich bloom, and having a stone similar to the plum. It is reported to have a pleasing taste. This completes the list of fruits, which Mr. Drummond acknowledges to be imperfect, as the cultivation of the vine, olive, currant, and other imported fruits has withdrawn the attention of the settlers from the native productions; and we shall now pass to the smaller classes of the Eucalyptus tribe. The Doatta is a species of this class, and the bark of its root is much relished by the natives, having a sweet and pleasing taste, as is also the trunk of the red-gum; and its leaves, washed in water, form an agreeable beverage. They also collect a description of manna from the leaves of the York gum, which yields a considerable quantity of saccharine matter. The common green wattle of the genus of Acacia is found plentifully on the alluvial flats of the Swan, and the bark is much used for tanning; and the gum-wattle of the same order produces so great a quantity of gum as to demand the attention of exporters. Another shrub of this order is found in the Vasse district, and produces galls similar to those of the oak, which might also be collected for exportation. The gum of some of these species is used by the natives as food, and the seeds, when ground, give them a tolerable substitute for flour.

Instead of entering more at large into dry botanical details, I will transfer to these pages a letter from my respected friend, Mr. James Drummond, the botanist already alluded to, which perhaps will prove more acceptable to the general reader.

This letter was published at the time in the local journals.

"Dear Sir,—I send you a few extracts from a journal of observations which I made in a journey to the north, in company with Mr. Gilbert, the ornithologist.* My sons had heard from the natives that a considerable river and lakes of fresh water were to be found about two days' journey to the north of their station on the Moore River; and in company with Captain Scully, the Government Resident of this district, they determined to explore the country in that direction. Mr. Phillips and some other gentlemen who were to be of the party, as well as Mr. Gilbert and myself, arrived at the station too late; I shall therefore principally confine my observations to Mr. Gilbert's transactions and my own.

[footnote] * Mr. Gilbert, an enthusiastic naturalist, and an amiable and highly respectable man, was treacherously murdered by natives to the North-East of New Holland, whilst engaged upon a scientific expedition.

"We left Hawthornden on the 22d August, and slept at the residence of Captain Scully, who had set out some days before to join the exploring party. On the 23d we proceeded on our journey to the north, and in about five or six miles we examined some remarkable masses of granite rocks a little to the right of the road which is formed by our carts and horses passing to and from the Moore River. Mr. Gilbert found a small but curious fresh-water shell in some pools of rain-water on the rocks, and I found two plants which I had not seen before. In about eleven or twelve miles from Captain Scully's we reached a permanent spring called Yoolgan, where there is excellent grass, and where we stopped to dine and feed our horses. Soon after leaving Yoolgan, we met with Mr. Phillips and Mr. John Mackie returning; they had arrived at our station a day too late for the party; we therefore knew that our hurrying on to join them was useless. In ten or twelve miles from Yoolgan we reached Yeinart, a tea-tree swamp, where there is grass and water to be had throughout the year. The night threatened to rain, but we arrived too late to do much in the house-making way; fortunately, the rain kept off until daylight, when we soon covered our house with tea-tree bark, and determined to stop for the day, which I consider the best way, as no collections can be made when it is raining, and provisions and everything get spoiled. It cleared up about ten o'clock, and we went to visit a brushwood swamp, where my son Johnston had shot several specimens of a beautiful species of kangaroo with a dark-coloured fur, overtopped with silvery hairs, called Marnine by the natives: we saw plenty of tracks of the animals, but could not see a single specimen. On the top of a hill to the north of the swamp I succeeded in finding two very distinct species of Dryandra, new to me. I also found a fine species of Eucalyptus in flower, which is distinguished from the Matilgarring of the natives, the Eucalyptus macrocarpus of Sir W. T. Hooker, by having lengthened recurved flower-stalks; the flowers are rose-coloured.

"On the 25th we proceeded on our journey. I observed two new species of acacia near Yeinart. We mistook our road, and made our old station at Badgee-badgee, where we stopped to dine and feed our horses. I also found some curious aquatic plants in the pools of water among the rocks at Badgee-badgee. After dinner we succeeded with difficulty in tracing our road to our present station on the Mouran pool, the cart tracks being nearly obliterated by the trampling of the sheep. On arriving, we found that the exploring party had returned, and that Captain Scully and my son James had left, on their return, about half an hour before our arrival. The mutilated specimens of plants brought home by the party, and the accounts of some which were left behind, determined me to visit the new river myself, after botanizing a day in the vicinity of the station, where I found a fine glaucus-leaved Anadenia, and Mr. Gilbert got specimens of the blue kangaroo, and several small new quadrupeds—one of them apparently a true rat, almost as large and mischievous as the Norway rat. Having got two natives, one of whom (Cabbinger) had been with the party to the north, we started on the 27th, and slept at a spring called Boorbarna. On the way I found a species of the common poison which I had not seen before, and a beautiful Conospermum, with pannicles of blue flowers varying to white. I was informed, by my son Johnston, that a plant like horehound, but with scarlet flowers, in tubes about an inch long, grew on the top of a stony hill to the north of the spring; I went and found the plant, which belongs to Scrophularinae; I also found a Manglesia, allied to Tridentifera, but having the leaves more divided; I also found a beautiful blue climbing plant, a species of Pronaya, on the top of the same hill. On the 28th, soon after setting out on our journey, I found two splendid species of everlasting flower, of which my son Johnston had been the original discoverer; one, with golden-yellow flowers varying to white, has the flowers in heads different from anything of the sort I have seen before, and will, I think, form a new genus of Compositae; and the other with pink flowers, growing two feet high, something like Lawrencella rosea, or Rhodanthe Manglesii, but if possible finer than either. In nine or ten miles to the north of Boorbarna, we crossed a curious tract of country, covered with what I considered a variety of quartz, which breaks with a conchoidal fracture, but it has very much the appearance of flint; in many places the pieces were large, with sharp angles; my sons complained that it injured their horses' feet, but by alighting, and leading our horses over the worse parts, I did not perceive any bad effects from it. This tract of country produces some interesting plants; a splendid Calathamnus, with leaves nine inches long, and showy scarlet flowers, was found by my youngest son, and I got plenty of specimens.

"With regard to a new Banksia, allied to Aquifolia, which he found here, I was not so fortunate, and he brought home no specimens. After crossing several miles of this quartz formation, we came upon an extensive flat of strong clay, covered with Eucalyptus, and some curious species of acacia; we crossed a considerable river, or brook, running strong to the west, and about two miles, after crossing this brook, we made the river we were in quest of at a place called Murarino by the natives. Near the river I found a splendid plant, which had been first observed by my son Johnston; he took it for a Lasiopetalum, but I expect it will prove to be a species of Solanum; it grows two or three feet high, with large purple flowers, with calyxes like brown velvet; the leaves are irregularly shaped, acuminate, about two inches long, and an inch and a half wide at their broadest parts; the stems are prickly, and all the leaves covered with a down as in Lasiopetalum. I am uncertain about the genus, not having seen the seed-vessels, but whatever that may be, it is of our finest Australian plants.

"We stopped to dine on the river, and in about four miles farther to the north, we reached two fresh-water lakes called Dalarn and Maradine. Ducks of various sorts were here in thousands, and the water-hens, or gallinules, which visited the settlements on the Swan some years ago, were plentiful. Mr. Gilbert shot three or four at a shot. I found a fine Baechia, which had been first found by my son James, and a curious new plant belonging to Compositae, but not yet in flower. The appearance of the country about these lakes, of which there are several besides those I have named, and the plants which grow about them, which are generally met with at no great distance from the sea, seem to prove that the lakes are at no great distance from it, and that the Darling Range does not extend so far to the north. No hills of any description appeared to the west; from the top of a hill to the east, two remarkable hills appeared, apparently about thirty miles to the north; one of them was observed by my son to have a remarkable peaked top, and they supposed they might be Mount Heathcote and Wizard Peak. We saw, as we came along, a high hill, which the natives called Wangan Catta; they said it was three days' walk to it; it lay due east of our course.

"On the 29th, we returned on our track for about seven miles, until we reached the first running river we met on our journey to the north. Our guides agreed to take us back by a different route, and to take us to a hill where a curious species of kangaroo called Damar by them, would be met with. My son Johnston has shot several of these animals about a day's walk to the east of our station on the Moore River. We therefore ascended this river in a course S.E. by E., and soon after we were upon its banks, we came upon a grassy country; three or four miles up we stopped to dine and feed the horses, at a place called Nugadrine; several pairs of beautiful falcons, the Falco Nypolencus of Gould, were flying over us, and Mr. Gilbert succeeded in shooting one of them. After dinner, we proceeded in the same direction for nine or ten miles; we soon crossed the tracks of Captain Scully and my sons on their return; they had gone up the main or northern branch of the river, and had found but little grass while they followed its banks; but they had passed over a great deal of grassy land in crossing the country from it to the Moore River.

"We travelled for ten or eleven miles through a splendid grassy country, and met with a large tribe of natives, several of whom had never seen white men before; they were very friendly, and offered us some of their favourite root, the wyrang, which grows abundantly among these grassy hills. They made so much noise, that we wished to get some distance from them to sleep, but they all followed us and encamped near, many of the single men sleeping by our fire. In the morning of the 30th I went to the top of a hill, near our bivouac, while Mr. Gilbert was superintending the preparations for breakfast, and clipping the beards of some of our new friends. After breakfast, we started direct for our station on the Moore River; the natives who were with us as guides considering our stock of flour insufficient to proceed any farther in the direction of the hill where they expected to find the Damars. For almost the whole of this day we travelled over the most splendid grassy country I have ever seen in Australia; the hill-sides, as far as we could see in every direction, were covered with beautiful grass, and of a golden colour, from the flowers of the beautiful yellow everlasting flower which I have described in a former part of this letter, which is only to be found in the richest soil. After reaching our station, I was a day or two employed in drying my specimens of plants. My son Johnston pointed out a most beautiful new Dryandra, which he had discovered on the top of a hill near the Mouran-pool; I have named the species Dryandra floribunda, from its numerous blossoms, which almost hide the leaves; it grows twelve or fifteen feet high, and in such abundance, that the side of the hill on which it grows actually appears of a golden colour for several miles. I consider it the most beautiful species of the genus yet known for cultivation.

"I am, Sir, "Your obedient servant, "James Drummond.

"P.S.—Our course generally by compass from Hawthornden to these lakes has been several points to the west of north. The natives informed us, when at the lakes, that they could reach the sea-coast long before sunset.

"Hawthornden Farm, Toodyay Valley."

CHAPTER 29.

MISFORTUNES OF THE COLONY.

Many causes have unhappily united to keep Western Australia from rising into notice and importance with that rapidity which has marked the career of the other Australian colonies. The misfortunes of the first settlers, attributable in a great measure to flagrant mismanagement, deterred intending emigrants from tempting the like fate. The man who had the largest grant in the colony allotted to him—a monster grant of 250,000 acres—made so ill an use of the means at his command, that nothing but misery and misfortune has ever attended his steps. The funds with which he was intrusted might have been applied with the happiest effect, both for the advancement of the colony and of his own personal fortunes. The people whom he brought out, chiefly mechanics and labourers, to the number of four hundred or upwards, were sufficient to have formed a settlement of their own. By an unhappy fatality, the early settlers were landed on a part of the coast the most unfavourable in the world for their purposes. The whole country around them was a mere limestone rock. Here, however, the town-site of Clarence was fixed upon, but scarcely a yard of land was to be found that afforded space for a garden. No attempt was made to sow grain, or plant potatoes, to provide for the wants of the following year.

The people lived upon the provisions they had brought out with them. The four hundred workmen being left by their principal without direction or employment, soon consumed in riotous living the abundant stores left at their disposal, and too soon found that destitution is the inevitable consequence of idleness and folly. Many perished miserably of want and sickness, and many others effected their escape to Van Dieman's Land, where they gave a melancholy account of the wretchedness of those who were unable to flee from the scene of their errors.

The active intelligence, and unremitting exertions of the Governor, Sir James Stirling, at length ameliorated the condition of the unfortunate settlers. He removed the seat of Government to Perth, and explored the neighbouring country in every direction in the hope of finding tracts of land sufficient for the support of the people under his charge. The flats of the Swan River afforded all the facilities he required; but the settlers were greatly intimidated by the treacherous attacks of the natives, and were very reluctant to separate from the main body. In consequence of these fears, many consumed their capital in their present support, instead of applying it in the formation of farms, and laying the ground-work of future prosperity. Provisions being all imported, were sold at high rates, and the hesitating colonists became unavoidably subservient to the cupidity of the traders.

In addition to these misfortunes, no man liked to lay out his money in building a house upon land which might not eventually be allotted to him. He lived therefore, with his wife, children, and servants, miserably under a tent, until the surveyor-general should be able to point out to him the land which had fallen to his share, in the general lottery of the Government. In many cases this was not done for one or two years after the formation of the colony, in consequence of the lamentably inefficient force placed at the disposal of the able and indefatigable surveyor-general; and even then, the boundaries of the different allotments were not permanently defined. This state of incertitude had the most fatal effect, not only upon the fortunes, but upon the moral condition of the settlers. Those who had come out resolutely bent upon cultivating their own land, and supporting themselves and families by their manual labour, refused to make the necessary exertions upon property which might eventually belong to others for whom they had no desire to toil. Waiting, therefore, in their tents on the shore, until the Government should determine their respective locations, they passed the time in idleness, or in drinking and riotous living; and when at length they obtained their Letters of Allocation, they found themselves without money or any means of subsistence, except by hiring out their manual labour to others more prudent, or more fortunate.

Other accidental circumstances have combined to retard the progress of the colony. From ignorance of the seasons, many lost their crops, and were obliged consequently to expend the last remains of their capital in procuring necessary supplies. From the same cause, vessels which brought emigrants to the colony were not secured during the winter season in the safest anchorages, and being exposed to the fury of the north-west gales, were in too many instances, driven ashore and completely wrecked.

Again, too, there has always existed a strong desire on the part of Western Australia to connect herself with India, conscious that there are great facilities of communication between the countries, from favourable trade-winds, and that her own climate is perhaps better suited to invalids than even that of the Cape. This desire has been met by several influential gentleman of Calcutta, and on two occasions, vessels were freighted and despatched from that city to the colony, in the hope of establishing a mutually advantageous connexion, and on both occasions the vessels were lost on the voyage. At length a small establishment was effected near Australind, by the agents of Mr. W. H. Prinsep, for the purpose of breeding horses for the Indian market; and we most sincerely hope success will ultimately attend the enterprising effort. Indian officers have occasionally visited the colony; but they have naturally received unfavourable impressions, from being unable to find those accommodations and luxuries to which they had been accustomed.

The settlers will not build houses and lay out their money on the mere speculation of gaining advantage by the visits of Indian officers, but if once there appeared a reasonable prospect of early remuneration, every convenience would be provided, and every comfort ensured to visitors. Living is now extremely cheap, and there is a profusion of vegetables and fruits of every kind. There are plenty of good horses and pleasure-boats, and there are the amusements of fishing, and hunting the Kangaroo and Emu.

The misconduct of some, and the misfortunes of others of the early settlers, tended to bring about calamities which were echoed throughout Great Britain, and for many years had the effect of turning the stream of emigration away from these shores. Other causes have also contributed to this end. The Government plan of giving grants of land to emigrants, proportioned to the capital which they introduced into the colony, was good to a certain extent, but the object was perverted, and the boon abused. In almost all instances, men received a much greater quantity of land than they were justly entitled to. Every article of provisions, furniture, and household effects, and even wearing apparel, were taken into account. The valuations were made by friends and neighbours, who accommodated one another, and rated the property of the applicant at a most astounding price. The consequence has been, that large grants of land have fallen into the hands of those who have never lived upon them, or spent anything upon their improvement, beyond a fictitious amount which they were required to specify to the Government before they could obtain possession of their deeds of grant. These original grantees have clung to their lands with desperate tenacity, in the hope that some day their value will be more than nominal. The idea that all the best portions of the colony are in the hands of a few great unimproving proprietors, has been one reason why emigrants have turned away from it.

But the provision, which has so long been an evil to the colony, may now be looked upon, thanks to the narrow-minded policy of the Home Government, as an advantage. These original grants, which have proved so little beneficial to the owner, and so highly detrimental to the community, are now far more easily obtainable by the emigrant than the surrounding crown-lands. The policy of the Government has entirely changed with regard to the disposal of waste lands in the Australian colonies; instead of giving them away with a lavish hand, it has for some years been the practice to throw every obstacle in the way of intending purchasers.

They are now valued at one pound per acre, though it is well known, even at the colonial office, that five acres of Australian land are requisite to maintain a single sheep; and as the average value of sheep in all these colonies is six or seven shillings, it scarcely requires the head of a Secretary of State to calculate that every one who buys land for the purpose of feeding his flocks upon it, must be content to purchase it at an irreparable loss of capital. In consequence of this wise regulation, no purchase of crown-lands are now made in any of the Australian colonies, except of town allotments, which have a factitious value, altogether irrespective of the qualities of the soil. It is now that the holders of large grants find purchasers, as they are extremely willing to sell at a much lower rate than the crown. In Western Australia alone, however, are these grants to be found; and here excellent land may be purchased at three shillings an acre. Thus the careless profusion of one government, and the false policy and unhappy cupidity of another, have proved the means of placing this colony in a better position in some respects than any other.

Western Australia has been unfortunate also in having had no powerful company to support her cause in England. The neighbouring colony of South Australia, with a much less extensive territory, and without any natural superiority in the quality of the soil, was immediately puffed into notice by the exertions of her friends at home.

But whilst the settlers at Adelaide and their patrons in London, proclaimed to the world the advantages of the new colony, they scrupled not to draw comparisons between it and the Western settlement, that were neither flattering nor just to the latter. Not content with elevating their own idol with paeans and thanksgiving, before the gaze of a bedinned public, they persisted in shouting out their scorn and contempt at the pretensions of their unhappy neighbour. The public, with its usual discernment, gave implicit credence to both fables. Western Australia had met its contumelious detractors with silence; and the false statements were therefore looked upon as admitted and undeniable. But notwithstanding the injurious misrepresentations of enemies, and her own injurious silence, this colony has been quietly and steadily progressing, until she has laid for herself a foundation that no envious calumny can shake. The last blow she has received was from the failure of the settlement at Australind; a subject that I intend to treat of in a separate chapter.

So many misfortunes and untoward accidents have combined to prejudice the emigrating portion of the British public against Western Australia, that no voice is ever raised in her behalf, and scarcely any literary journal condescends to acknowledge her existence. And yet, notwithstanding the veil of darkness that conceals her from Northern eyes, there is perhaps no spot in the world that contains so eminently within itself the elements of prosperity and happiness. A climate more genial, more divine than that of Italy, robs poverty of its bleakness and its bitterness. Absolute want is never felt, and those who possess but little, find how little is sufficient in a climate so productive and so beneficent.

The purity and elasticity of the atmosphere induce a continual flow of good spirits.

To all the fruits of Italy in most abundant profusion, are added the productions of the East.

The regularity of the seasons is so certain, that the husbandman always reckons with confidence upon his crops. No droughts interfere, AS IN THE OTHER COLONIES, to ruin his hopes. the vintages, annually increasing and improving, are equally free from disappointment.

It must not, however, be denied that there are many natural disadvantages which can never be overcome without a much larger population.

In the first place, the only good harbour on the Western coast has only just been discovered—June 1846—and is at least thirty-five miles distant from Perth, the capital. Then, secondly, all the superior land of the colony is situated about sixty miles back from the capital, and the farmers therefore have a considerable distance to convey their produce to the port; and part of that distance the roads are extremely bad.

There is another objection to the colony in the opinion of intending emigrants, which arises from a small plant, or shrub, of the order leguminosae, a deadly poison to sheep and cattle. This plant grows over the colony in patches, but is now so well known, that accidents very seldom occur from it, shepherds being careful not to allow their flocks to feed in its vicinity. It is however to be observed, that neither sheep nor cattle will feed upon this plant unless they be very hungry, and other food be wanting. It is very seldom indeed that cattle, which are sometimes left to roam at large over the country, are found to have perished from pasturing upon it. This plant has no injurious effect upon horses; but these animals have in several instances been poisoned by eating the leaves of a small plant described as resembling the ranunculus, which grows in small quantities in the Southern portion of the colony. A gentleman once informed me that he was riding up from Australind on a favourite and very fine horse, which he allowed to feed, during several hours of rest, on a spot where this plant unfortunately grew. On mounting to resume his journey, the horse seemed full of spirit; but he had not proceeded a mile before it stumbled, and was with difficulty kept from falling. A little farther on, after proceeding with evident difficulty, it fell, to rise no more, and died in a few hours of violent inflammation of the kidneys.

However alarming these drawbacks may seem to people at a distance, they are only lightly considered in the colony. Fatalities are very rare among the flocks and herds, and many diseases which prevail in New South Wales are entirely unknown among us.