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Authors: Tim Flannery

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BOOK: The Explorers
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We came across some natives who kept a long distance off. I sent our black up to them to ask in which direction Wingillpin lay. They pointed to the course I was then steering, and said, ‘Five sleeps.' They would not come near to us. About three-quarters of an hour afterwards I came suddenly upon another native who was hunting in the sandhills. My attention being engaged in keeping the bearing, I did not observe him until he moved, but I pulled up at once, lest he should run away, and called to him. What he imagined I was I do not know; but when he turned round and saw me I never beheld a finer picture of astonishment and fear. He was a fine muscular fellow, about six feet in height, and stood as if riveted to the spot, with his mouth wide open, and his eyes staring.

I sent our black forward to speak with him, but omitted to tell him to dismount. The terrified native remained motionless, allowing our black to ride within a few yards of him, when, in an instant, he threw down his waddies, and jumped up into a mulga bush as high as he could, one foot being about three feet from the ground, and the other about two feet higher, and kept waving us off with his hand as we advanced. I expected every moment to see the bush break with his weight. When close under the bush, I told our black to inquire if he were a Wingillpin native.

He was so frightened he could not utter a word, and trembled from head to foot. We then asked him where Wingillpin was. He mustered courage to let go one hand and, emphatically snapping his fingers in a north-west direction, again waved us off. I take this emphatic snapping of his fingers to mean a long distance. Probably this Wingillpin may be Cooper's Creek. We then left him, and proceeded on our way through the sandhills…Distance today, twenty-four miles.

Sunday, 22nd April [1860], Small Gum Creek, under Mount Stuart, Centre of Australia—Today I find from my observations of the sun, 111° 00′ 30″, that I am now camped in the centre of Australia. I have marked a tree and planted the British flag there. There is a high mount about two miles and a half to the north-north-east. I wish it had been in the centre; but on it tomorrow I will raise a cone of stones, and plant the flag there, and name it Central Mount Stuart. We have been in search of permanent water today but cannot find any. I hope from the top of Central Mount Stuart to find something good to the north-west. Wind south. Examined a large creek; can find no surface water, but got some by scratching in the sand. It is a large creek divided into many channels, but they are all filled with sand; splendid grass all round this camp.

Monday, 23rd April, Centre—Took Kekwick and the flag, and went to the top of the mount, but found it to be much higher and more difficult of ascent than I anticipated. After a deal of labour, slips and knocks, we at last arrived on the top. It is quite as high as Mount Serle, if not higher. The view to the north is over a large plain of gums, mulga and spinifex, with watercourses running through it. The large gum creek that we crossed winds round this hill in a north-east direction; at about ten miles it is joined by another. After joining they take a course more north, and I lost sight of them in the far-distant plain. To the north-north-east is the termination of the hills; to the north-east, east and south-east are broken ranges, and to the north-north-west the ranges on the west side of the plain terminate. To the north-west are broken ranges; and to the west is a very high peak, between which and this place to the south-west are a number of isolated hills. Built a large cone of stones, in the centre of which I placed a pole with the British flag nailed to it. Near the top of the cone I placed a small bottle, in which there is a slip of paper, with our signatures to it, stating by whom it was raised. We then gave three hearty cheers for the flag, the emblem of civil and religious liberty, and may it be a sign to the natives that the dawn of liberty, civilisation, and Christianity is about to break upon them. We can see no water from the top.

† Wurley: Aboriginal shelter.

W
ILLIAM
W
ILLS

My Pulse Is At Forty-Eight, 1861

William Wills' father was heartbroken by the failure of his son to return from the tragically incompetent expedition in which he and Robert O'Hara Burke, together with John King and Charles Gray, became the first men to cross the continent from south to north. Two years after their deaths, Wills senior published a book stubbornly titled
A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia
. In it he lovingly describes the future explorer as a babe in arms, then as a growing young man whom he treated as his friend and equal. I wonder what it cost this very un-Victorian father to read these entries from his son's diary? The young Wills reserved the last of his strength to write a farewell letter to his father.

Stranded at Cooper Creek after the depot party stationed there left for Menindie on the very day the explorers struggled back into camp, Wills describes the peculiar fate of one destined to die of starvation on a full stomach. Uncertainty still surrounds his condition: was it the nardoo or the greens he was eating that decided his fate? Gray was already dead; Burke and King had gone along the creek to find the Aborigines who were their only hope of survival. Back in Melbourne, Wills senior was desperately trying to raise the alarm to organise a rescue.

Monday, 3rd June 1861—Started at seven o'clock, and keeping on the south bank of the creek was rather encouraged at about three miles by the sound of numerous crows ahead; presently fancied I could see smoke, and was shortly afterwards set at my ease by hearing a cooee from Pitchery, who stood on the opposite bank, and directed me round the lower end of the waterhole, continually repeating his assurance of abundance of fish and bread. Having with some considerable difficulty managed to ascend the sandy path that led to the camp, I was conducted by the chief to a fire where a large pile of fish were just being cooked in the most approved style. These I imagined to be for the general consumption of the half-dozen natives gathered around, but it turned out that they had already had their breakfast. I was expected to dispose of this lot—a task which, to my own astonishment, I soon accomplished, keeping two or three blacks pretty steadily at work extracting the bones for me. The fish being disposed of, next came a supply of nardoo cake and water until I was so full as to be unable to eat any more; when Pitchery, allowing me a short time to recover myself, fetched a large bowl of the raw nardoo flour mixed to a thin paste, a most insinuating article, and one that they appear to esteem a great delicacy.
†
I was then invited to stop the night there, but this I declined, and proceeded on my way home.

Tuesday, 4th June 1861—Started for the blacks' camp intending to test the practicability of living with them, and to see what I could learn as to their ways and manners.

Wednesday, 5th June 1861—Remained with the blacks. Light rain during the greater part of the night, and more or less throughout the day in showers. Wind blowing in squalls from south.

Thursday, 6th June 1861—Returned to our own camp: found that Mr Burke and King had been well supplied with fish by the blacks. Made preparation for shifting our camp nearer theirs on the morrow…

Friday, 7th June 1861—Started in the afternoon for the blacks' camp with such things as we could take; found ourselves all very weak in spite of the abundant supply of fish that we have lately had. I, myself, could scarcely get along, although carrying the lightest swag, only about thirty pounds. Found that the blacks had decamped, so determined on proceeding tomorrow up to the next camp, near the nardoo field.

Saturday, 8th June 1861—With the greatest fatigue and difficulty we reached the nardoo camp. No blacks, greatly to our disappointment; took possession of their best mia-mia and rested for the remainder of the day.

Sunday, 9th June 1861—King and I proceeded to collect nardoo, leaving Mr Burke at home.

Monday, 10th June 1861—Mr Burke and King collecting nardoo; self at home too weak to go out; was fortunate enough to shoot a crow…

Tuesday, 11th June 1861—King out for nardoo; Mr Burke up the creek to look for the blacks.

Wednesday, 12th June 1861—King out collecting nardoo; Mr Burke and I at home pounding and cleaning. I still feel myself, if anything, weaker in the legs, although the nardoo appears to be more thoroughly digested.

Thursday, 13th June 1861—Last night the sky was pretty clear, and the air rather cold, but nearly calm, a few cir. st. hung about the
NE
horizon during the first part of the night. Mr Burke and King out for nardoo; self weaker than ever; scarcely able to go to the waterhole for water. Towards afternoon, cir. cum. and cir. st. begin to appear moving northward. Scarcely any wind all day.
†

Friday, 14th June 1861—Night alternately clear and cloudy; cir. cum. and cum. st. moving northwards; no wind; beautifully mild for the time of year; in the morning some heavy clouds on the horizon. King out for nardoo; brought in a good supply. Mr Burke and I at home, pounding and cleaning seed. I feel weaker than ever, and both Mr B. and King are beginning to feel very unsteady in the legs.

Saturday, 15th June 1861—Night clear, calm and cold; morning very fine, with a light breath of air from
NE
. King out for nardoo; brought in a fine supply. Mr Burke and I pounding and cleaning; he finds himself getting very weak, and I am not a bit stronger.

I have determined on beginning to chew tobacco and eat less nardoo, in hopes that it may induce some change in the system. I have never yet recovered from the constipation, the effect of which continues to be exceedingly painful.

Sunday, 16th June 1861—Wind shifted to north; clouds moving from west to east; thunder audible two or three times to the southward: sky becoming densely overcast, with an occasional shower about 9 a.m.

We finished up the remains of the camel Rajah yesterday, for dinner; King was fortunate enough to shoot a crow this morning.

The rain kept all hands in, pounding and cleaning seed during the morning. The weather cleared up towards the middle of the day, and a brisk breeze sprang up in the south, lasting till near sunset, but rather irregular in its force. Distant thunder was audible to westward and southward frequently during the afternoon…

Wednesday, 19th June 1861—Night calm; sky during first part overcast with cirro-cumulus clouds, most of which cleared away towards morning, leaving the air much colder; but the sky remained more or less hazy all night, and it was not nearly as cold as last night.

About eight o'clock a strong southerly wind sprung up, which enabled King to blow the dust out of our nardoo seed, but made me too weak to render him any assistance.

Thursday, 20th June 1861—Night and morning very cold, sky clear. I am completely reduced by the effects of the cold and starvation. King gone out for nardoo; Mr Burke at home pounding seed; he finds himself getting very weak in the legs. King holds out by far the best; the food seems to agree with him pretty well.

Finding the sun come out pretty warm towards noon, I took a sponging all over; but it seemed to do little good beyond the cleaning effects, for my weakness is so great that I could not do it with proper expedition.

I cannot understand this nardoo at all—it certainly will not agree with me in any form; we are now reduced to it alone, and we manage to consume from four to five pounds per day between us; it appears to be quite indigestible, and cannot possibly be sufficiently nutritious to sustain life by itself.

Friday, 21 st June 1861—Last night was cold and clear, winding up with a strong wind from
NE
in the morning. I feel much weaker than ever and can scarcely crawl out of the mia-mia. Unless relief comes in some form or other, I cannot possibly last more than a fortnight.

It is a great consolation, at least, in this position of ours, to know that we have done all we could, and that our deaths will rather be the result of the mismanagement of others than of any rash acts of our own. Had we come to grief elsewhere, we could only have blamed ourselves; but here we are returned to Cooper's Creek, where we had every reason to look for provisions and clothing; and yet we have to die of starvation, in spite of the explicit instructions given by Mr Burke: ‘That the depot party should await our return'; and the strong recommendation to the committee ‘that we should be followed up by a party from Menindie'.

About noon a change of wind took place, and it blew almost as hard from the west as it did previously from the
NE
. A few cir. cum. continued to pass over towards east.

Saturday, 22nd June 1861—Night cloudy and warm; every appearance of rain; thunder once or twice during the night; clouds moving in an easterly direction; lower atmosphere perfectly calm. There were a few drops of rain during the night, and in the morning, about 9 a.m., there was every prospect of more rain until towards noon, when the sky cleared up for a time.

Mr Burke and King out for nardoo; the former returned much fatigued. I am so weak today as to be unable to get on my feet.

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