Repeated attempts to advance in a northerly direction all ended in failure. It is not easy to picture the blank desolation which reigns towards the north of the colony of South Australia. The traveller leaves wealthy homesteads, smiling vineyards, and rich golden cornfields, yielding the finest grain in the world, to find himself on the edge of a desert consisting of mud, brine, and patches of water so

gribbid No buvot ed deeply encrusted with salt as to resemble hoar-frost. Later explorers have found a way-more, indeed, by accident than designthrough this forbidding belt to more desirable regions. Such accident, however, was denied to Mr. Eyre, and he completed a quadrant of a circle in vain efforts to

pierce this treacherous

surface, finally arriving

at the head of Spencer Gulf, where the belt itself communicates with the Southern Ocean.

An ordinary man would have estimated his defeat at its true value, and returned to Adelaide with his expedition. Such, however-be it to his credit or the contrary-is not Mr. Eyre. He had altered the exploring expedition from its original intention of effecting a junction with the western settlement of Swan River by a direct westerly route. He now determined to take up this westerly route, and live or die in an effort to pass through 1,500 miles of a wholly unknown tract of country. The resolution can scarcely be justified on the grounds of reason or necessity. Mr. Eyre's plan was to risk no European life save his own in the attempt. The expedition was sent back: its officers expostulated with their leader; they pointed out his own previous

arguments against a westerly route; finally, they implored permission to accompany him; but Mr. Eyre was firm. One European, who had been for many years his faithful servant, and who now occupied the position of overseer in the expedition, proved as wholly obstinate as its leader; it was his firm resolve to perish with his master, and Mr. Eyre at length yielded to his wishes. Two aborigines who had been brought up on Mr. Eyre's own squatting station were also retained, and a young native black named Wylie, belonging to Swan River settlement. Such was the small force which now set forth on the most hopelessly forbidding region of country which, considering its immense extent, is to be found on the surface of the earth. "We were now alone," writes Mr. Eyre, "myself, my overseer, and the three native boys, with a fearful task before us. The bridge was broken down behind us, and we must succeed in reaching King George's Sound or perish. No middle course remained."

A word as to the peculiar nature of this terrible region may not be inappropriate. Captain Flinders, to whom the world is indebted for the most complete marine surveys of the Australian sea-coast line, had sailed along the whole of this south coast, but had found it impossible to effect a landing: a violent current sweeps round the Great Australian Bight, eating into the coast, while high and perpendicular cliffs were found to tower from 300 to 600 feet above the deck of his vessel. Thus the whole coast-line had remained perfectly abandoned up to the period of Mr. Eyre's visit. He now found the summits of these cliffs to consist of one unbroken level platform, overlooking the lonely ocean, and stretching inland without rise or fall. A thick and perfectly impenetrable screen of "scrub" hid the interior from view; while, occasionally, huge masses of the limestone cliffs became detached, and tumbled into the boiling waves beneath, emitting the only sound which broke the utter desolation of the scene. During the day a fierce sirocco blew from the interior, bearing with it large volumes of fine sand; towards evening this was met by an exceedingly cold blast, coming up from the great Southern Ocean. These two antagonistic atmospheric currents caused a deposition of sand on the edge of this high limestone table-land, on which a few herbs had taken root, barely sufficient to yield a scanty sustenance to the horses and to the few sheep which were to form their food on their journey. Water, however, was the great essential, and the hopes of Mr. Eyre and his man were founded on the supposition that the country would soon become sufficiently open

for progress into the interior, or that the elevated table-land on which they trod would become sufficiently depressed for inland streams to find their way to the coast.

II.

The Water-bags Empty-The Horses Give Way-The Sandhills-A Well Made -No Water but at the Various Sandhills-Superior Endurance of Man above Other Animals-Half the Distance Accomplished-Restlessness of the Horses-Mr. Eyre and his Overseer Watch Them-Murder of the Overseer -Escape and Recapture of the Horses-The Adelaide Natives Steal the Provisions-The Horses Killed for Food-A Whaling Vessel SightedReturn to Adelaide - Quarrels between the Aborigines and ColonistsMr. Eyre appointed Black Protector, Governor of Wellington, N.Z.Lieutenant-Governor of Jamaica-Full Governor-Respect for Mr. Eyre in

Australia.

THE

'HE first day's march was accomplished without the appearance of any such result—and the second: finally, Mr. Eyre and his small party arrived at the head of the Great Bight without meeting a drop of fresh water, or without possibility of descending to the sea or advancing to any appreciable distance inland. Their water-bags were now quite empty, the sheep in a pitiable state of exhaustion, and the horses-always the first to give in under great drought-strewn along the way which they had traversed. Some distance beyond the Great Bight a few sandhills were seen to raise their insignificant heights, and by digging down to the base of these a little moisture was found to lie concealed between the sand and the limestone table-land. Here they constructed a well, though with considerable difficulty, from the falling nature of the sand, to which the sheep added in their frantic efforts to reach the water. The water-bags were now re-filled, though the water flowed so slowly into the well that the greater portion of the night was consumed in this operation. Loaded with these bags Mr. Eyre and his men retraced their way to the horses, and eventually succeeded in bringing them on to the sandhills. Some days were spent in recruiting, when the party made a fresh start, hoping for better luck.

Extraordinary as it may appear, these groups of sandhills, occurring at distances of 200 and 300 miles from each other, yielded the sole supplies of fresh water which were found along the whole extent of this terrible coast, a circumstance without parallel in the experience of geographical discovery. Mr. Eyre's account of one of these forced

exemplifies the superior Generally about the third

marches from sandhill to sandhill well endurance of man above all other animals. or fourth day the horses exhibited symptoms of failing. Their light loads, consisting of a few indispensable articles of baggage, were then taken off them and left on the wayside. Relieved of these they managed to struggle on for a day or two more; beyond which, however, no power could get them to advance. Providing themselves with the empty water-bags, Mr. Eyre and his men now pushed forward until a group of sandhills appeared in sight. Here they scooped out a well, slaked their thirst, and took a few hours' rest while the bags were filling. Loaded with these, they returned to the horses, and brought them to the sandhills; occasionally, however, they found one in the agonies of death, and past all assistance. Arrived for the second time at the sandhills, the most laborious portion of these herculean toils commenced. Their baggage, consisting of flour, tea, sugar, guns, and ammunition, still lay strewn along the track, sometimes as much as fifty or sixty miles behind them, and these they were obliged to carry on their backs while the horses regained some little strength at the sandhills. By such means they had advanced so far into these forbidding solitudes as to render a return a matter of extreme uncertainty, and were now led on by hope of some ameliorating change in the character of the country. They had accomplished more than half the distance between Adelaide and King George's Sound when Mr. Eyre's cup of toil and anxiety, already full to overflowing, received a wholly unexpected and most distressing increase.

In addition to the harassing and exhaustive toils we have recorded, Mr. Eyre and the overseer had also taken upon themselves a task of great, and, indeed, vital, importance. The horses-the sheep had long since disappeared-though incapable of the same endurance as themselves, were, nevertheless, of essential service in conveying their few articles from stage to stage as long as the water-bags lasted—that is, during the first three or four days from sandhill to sandhill. At night, however, notwithstanding their weariness, they became extremely restless, especially after the water-bags ran low, seizing every opportunity to return to the last stage. Nor could they be tethered, since, in consequence of the extremely scanty and scattered nature of the few tufts of herbage, they would run the risk of absolute starvation. So responsible a task, therefore, as watching the horses at night, Mr. Eyre and the overseer deemed unsafe to be intrusted to the three aboriginal

youths, and up to the present they had taken it in turns between them, Mr. Eyre watching one half the night and his man the other.

On one of these occasions, when some two months of their weary journey had been accomplished, the earlier portion of the night watch had fallen to Mr. Eyre's share. The horses-it was now three days since they had passed the last water stage-proved unusually restless, drawing Mr. Eyre to a considerable distance from their temporary camp in their efforts to return. As it approached midnight, when the overseer would relieve him, the chill sea-breeze had risen to a gale, sighing mournfully through the few belts of scrub which alone interrupted the dreary monotony of these desolate wilds. An Australian moon, however, poured its flood of light upon the scene, marking out the alternate wastes of sand and bare limestone surface, the few salsolaceous plants, and the white awning of their nightly dwelling in the distance, with the great Southern Ocean beyond and below. Suddenly the report of a gun was borne on the sea-breeze. Aroused by so startling and unexpected an event, Mr. Eyre hastened towards the camp. About half-way he was met by Wylie, the King George's Sound native, running towards him in great alarm, and exclaiming, “Oh, massa! oh, massa! come here," but unable to afford him any information. On reaching the camp, which he did in about five minutes after the shot was fired, a dreadful sight met his gaze. The scanty stores of flour, tea, and sugar had been broken open, and the contents rifled; the two Adelaide natives had disappeared, and the overseer lay on the ground weltering in his blood, and in the last agonies of death. He had been shot in the left breast by a ball, and in a few moments he expired. The wretched remnant of food had been the incentive to this terrible and most atrocious act, and the Adelaide native youths, the murderers, had also taken with them all the water, and all the arms and ammunition they could lay their hands upon. "The frightful, the appalling truth now burst upon me," writes Mr. Eyre, “that I was alone in the desert. He who had faithfully served me for many years, who had followed my fortunes in adversity and prosperity, who had accompanied me in all my wanderings, and whose attachment to me had been his sole inducement to remain with me in this last, and, to him, alas! fatal journey, was now no more. For an instant I was almost tempted to wish that it had been my own fate instead of his. The horrors of my situation glared upon me with such startling reality as for an instant almost to paralyse the mind. At the dead hour