17 Nov 1932

WHEN EYRE WENT WEST

Treachery Of His Black Guides

It is 91 years since Eyre made his epic 'hike' to Western Australia, in the face of difficulties which constitute the journey the most memorable in the history of Australian exploration. The story of that feat is retold briefly in the article below.

A Courageous Explorer.

— Edward John Eyre was, as every schoolboy knows, the first white man to walk from from Adelaide to Albany. The peninsula over which he passed on that memorable journey now bears his name.

He was born at Hornsea, England. Having a desire for adventure, he came to Australia in 1833. Shortly after he became a squatter on the lower Murray. It was often necessary for him to take mobs of sheep and cattle to the coastal towns. As a result of these trips he got a desire to travel further afield, and to see more of the interior of the continent.

In 1839 he discovered Lake Torrens. At this time an expedition was being fitted out to explore the northern interior of Australia. Eyre applied for the position of leader, and his request was granted. He was then under 25 years of age. The party consisted of six white men and two native boys. They had numerous sheep and horses.

This expedition was doomed to failure owing to a misunderstanding with the wild blacks. The party suffered severely from thirst. One day Eyre persuaded the blacks to show him where he could find water. They agreed — and next day led the party to the sea! Fortunately, before night fall. Eyre found a spring of water and saved the lives of his men and animals. He now decided that he would not subject the members of his party to further perils, and the trip was abandoned.

A short time later he commenced his wonderful walk around the coast line to Western Australia. He was accompanied by his overseer. Baxter, and three natives. At one period they walked 150 miles without water. They became almost too exhausted to stand. Eyre tore up the roots of gum trees and endeavored to squeeze moisture from them. With bunches of dry grass he collected the morning dew from the bushes and damped their parched throats.

One night two of the native boys murdered Baxter and ran off with the guns and most of the food. 'Wylie' remained faithful and stayed with Eyre. Their plight was desperate. Deprived of their guns. they faced starvation. The menace of the murdering blacks lurking near was enough to shake the courage of the bravest man. Eyre was still determined to reach his goal.

One day, to his great joy, he saw a French whaling vessel near the coast. The captain was able to supply all his needs, and he pressed on with renewed hope. Several weeks later Wylie saw in the distance the mountains that lay behind King George's Sound. Both had now almost reached the limit of physical endurance, but the thought that they had almost reached the end of the journey gave them strength to keep up a little longer. They reached Albany on July 7, 1841, and so ended one of the most remarkable journeys ever made. — 'R.V.H.'

Resourcefulness In The Bush.

— From the opposite side of the flooded River Tod a man watched this little incident. Two men in a sulky had just pulled up at the water's edge, and were looking first at the little footbridge and then at the roaring torrent. Presently they jumped out of the sulky, took out the horse, and whilst one of them led it across the bridge, the other divested the sulky of its wheels. His mate tied the horse up, returned, and then each trundled a wheel across. Next, one got on his hands and knees. The body of the sulky was placed on his shoulders, and, collecting rugs and parcels, the pair crossed the bridge again. It did not take them many minutes It re assemble their vehicle, harness the horse, and start on their away again. —'Seagull,' Port Lincoln.

Wreck Of The Tenterden.

— Many years ago, the captain of a vessel called the Tenterden was instructed to proceed from Melbourne to Port MacDonnell to load a cargo of wool. Cargoes were lightered out to the steamer's moorings, one mile from the Port MacDonnell jetty. These moorings were in deep water, away from the dangerous reefs for which this part of the South Australian coast is notorious.

It was early morning. The captain, who was making his maiden trip to Port MacDonnell, noticed, on the main land, the two peaks of Mount Gambier and Mount Schank. After carefully consulting his chart, he endeavored to find the mooring place. Suddenly he noticed breakers, and headed the vessel out to sea. Then, trying to find an opening through the reefs, the steamer struck a submerged rock to the west of the jetty. Many people blamed the captain for the loss of the vessel, declaring that his seamanship was faulty.

At the enquiry, however, the captain had an opportunity of proving his ability. It was shown that at the time the chart of this coast was compiled, Mount Gambier was a mountain upon the sides of which no timber grew. Mount Schank, on the other hand, was densely covered. To reach the moorings at Port MacDonnell, captains were instructed to leave a timbered mountain slightly to the left.

But; at the time of the Tenterden disaster, the trees upon the sides of Mount Schank had been removed, while, on the previous bare slopes of Mount Gambier, pine and gum plantations had been established.

The captain explained that his instructions were to leave a timbered mountain slightly to the left, and, as Mount Gambler was the only such one, it was not his fault that the ship was wrecked. However, he lost his certificate temporarily, but was afterwards reinstated. The wreck of the Tenterden— the remains of which can be seen to this day— was the last that occurred in the vicinity of Port Mac Donnell. — 'Interested,' Allandale East.

Boy's Escape,

— Before the Baroota Reservoir was built. Port Germein was often flooded by water which came down Baroota creek from the Flinders Range.

About 1903 heavy rain brought down one of the biggest floods ever known. Two men and a boy named Ben Erickson were returning to Germein in a dray. They had to cross the flood. When they were about half-way through they were washed out of the dray.

The men and the horse managed to get to the bank, but Ben was washed along in the swirling waters. He managed to grab the limb of a tree and pulled himself into it. He sat on the tree for several hours waiting for help.

One hefty wheat lumper offered to save the boy. The school children marched from school to see their playmate rescued. The big man ('Big August,' he was called) with a long rope tied around his waist swam out, and after a gruelling battle managed to reach the tree. He took the child on his back and got him to the bank, amid ringing cheers. Ben grew up and served his country in the Great War. — 'Wattle Blossom,' Port Germein.

She Didn't Use Super.

— One day I was chatting to an old woman about Parliament. This old lady took a great but not too-comprehending interest in the doings of the Government. We were talking about taxes. She said, 'I can't understand why I am charged super tax. I don't use super; never used any in my life.' Then she went on, 'I don't know why they have so many parsons in Parliament (meaning Ministers). What do they know about sheep, cattle farming, and railways? Their job is to preach the Gospel.' — 'K.I.'

How The Nigger Saved The Whisky.

—The recent flood in the River Tod reminds me of an occurrence before the district was blessed with a traffic bridge. A police sergeant and a ranger had reason to cross the river when it was in flood. A native from Poonindie Mission Station first swam across with a rope, and attached it to the horse's bridle. Then the natives hauled on the rope, keening the horse straight for the opposite bank. The sergeant sat in the saddle whilst the ranger hung on to the horse's tail. The native noticed a bottle of whisky in the sergeant's pocket, and he did not fail to notice when the swirling water washed it downstream. That night, at the mission station the native was reported missing. A search was started, as it was feared he had become ill from his immersion in the water. After a long hunt the man was discovered under a bush on the river bank 'dead drunk,' with a very much emptied bottle beside him. He had at the first opportunity followed the bottle downstream, and when out of sight of the others rescued it from the water. — 'Seagull,' Port Lincoln.

More About Kangaroo Island.

— Recent eulogies on Kangaroo Island remind one that its potentialities were not always considered so favorably. Early In the 19th century fear of the French invading Australia was very real.

About 1803, the assistant surveyor, Charles Grimes, of Sydney, was reputed to report on the possibilities of Kangaroo Island for colonising. Grimes decided against the island, and settlers under the guidance of Collins, were deviated to Victoria, and thence to Tasmania.

Flinders first discovered the island in March, 1802, when he sighted Point Marsden (north coast) from Spencer Gulf. The following year the island was circumnavigated by the Sydney-built boat Casuarina, of the Baudin expedition.

During the summer of 1803-4 the crew of the brig Union, from New York, built a 35-ton schooner at Flinders Pelican Lagoon (the inlet today known as American River). 'The Chronicle' of the period refers to the island as 'Border's Island,' the spelling without doubt being a corruption of Baudin. The natural resources of the island were first exploited when the Americans collected seal skins in 1803-4. Salt was first gathered probably in 1812 by the Campbell Macquarie from Sydney, and authentically in 1814 by the Fly from Port Dalrymple. — 'Yacko,' Point Morrison.

Jimmy Ducks.

— In the eighties when blackfellows roamed the Murray banks, there lived a wily old black named Jimmy Ducks. Jimmy used to exchange ducks with the white settlers for his cherished baccy and sugar bag. Hence the name.

Jimmy was not content with working honestly for his food: At night when the ducks he had sold were hanging up under the purchaser's verandah, the old black would sneak up, cut them down and next day sell them again to some one else.

One day Jimmy came to the home of Mrs. August Jaensch, a good pioneer settler, since gone to rest. Jimmy was doubled up and groaning with pain. He cried, 'Missy Jaensch, Jimmy Ducks goin' down lakes to die. Gib him plenty baccy, plenty flour, plenty tea.' The old black's wants were supplied by the good lady, and Jimmy departed, a picture of physical breakdown.

But when going through a small high fenced paddock Jimmy met a cow with a young calf. She charged in the direction of the unlucky black. Jimmy straightened up, made a high-speed dash for liberty, and cleared the fence with inches to spare. Then the 'dying' man did a record half-mile across the paddock, over the hill, and out of sight. — 'Major Michell,' Murray Bridge.

The Creek's Toll.

— A sunny morning in Kent Town many years ago. Merry children were playing In the nearby empty creek. Suddenly a terrific rush of water, then screams, and five helpless boys were being carried along with the torrent.

Rising above Burnside, First Creek pursues its course through Norwood and Kent Town eventually reaching the Torrens. Mostly there is not enough water in it to drown the proverbial cat. Yet at times it overflows its banks, and does great damage.

On the particular day of which I write the boys had gone to the creek near the college grounds, for the purpose of drowning a kitten. The biggest boy was a cripple, getting about on crutches. In his care was his little nephew aged three. Little Bertie M. was a bright curly headed boy of five, the only son of a then Rundle street photographer, and the remaining two were brothers, choristers in a church choir. All lived in the locality.

When the water struck them they had no chance of helping themselves, and were whirled away. A little lower down where the water was confined to a narrow walled channel, a woman, whose yard bordered the creek, heard the roar of the water and the screams. She seized a prop and held it across the creek. As the children approached the brothers were able to grasp the prop, and both dragged to safety.

The other unfortunate were carried on, under roads, houses, and through culverts, their lifeless bodies finally reaching a resting place. By this time, the alarm had been given, and hundreds of people were lining the bank. The bodies of the younger children were found during the day, but several days elapsed before the little battered cripple came to the surface. Long before that, the creek had worn its fury out, and was once more just a trickle. — 'G.B.G.,' Maylands.

'Darke's Peak.'

— In 1908, when land in Roberts and Verran (W.C.), was surveyed, the people who came over here as the pioneer settlers had never heard of the explorer, John Charles Darke, or his tragic end.

Darke was speared by blacks while exploring for the Government on Eyre Peninsula, and was buried on the western side of a hill near where the town named after him now is. For once the Government did the right thing. Fearing that all trace of the last resting place of the explorer would soon be lost when settlement began to push westward, they had a monument erected over the grave in 1910.

That winter was an exceedingly went one, and, as the memorial was landed at Tumby Bay, it had to be carted to the Peak over country which was practically virgin bush. There was not a single road, and the wheels of the waggon sank deeply into the soft ground. When the party reached the Peak they dug up the bones, and then re-interred them on practically the same spot, over which they placed the stone, which bears the inscription: —

"Sacred to the memory of John Charles Darke, who was mortally wounded by the natives when exploring this locality on October 23. 1844, and died the following day. Erected by the South Australian Government, 1910."

(1932, November 17). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 18. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-page8767995