Native village.
Just before dark we came upon a native village, near the foot of a bare rocky hill, having a northern aspect, and lying about one mile south-west of the river. It contained thirteen huts of paper-bark, standing in a bare stony plain, and with no signs of being at this time inhabited. We found here considerable difficulty in forcing our way through the tall and thickly growing reeds which lined the bank. The next reach in the river trended North-West for about a mile, and then turned off North-North-East at the foot of a high rocky range. The next turn in the course brought us upon a yet burning native fire. Under ordinary circumstances such an indication of the near presence of natives, of whose intentions, whether hostile or otherwise, I had no means of judging, would have induced me to take up open quarters for the night, which was now closing in upon us; but the threatening aspect of the sky to the south-east led me to prefer a spot sheltered by the luxuriant foliage which here fringed the river’s banks.
Violent squall.
The squall reached us at seven. The wind, which had been at south-east, veering to north, and the thermometer falling five degrees; it lasted for about an hour, during which time the harsh screams of the affrighted birds—the moaning of the wind—the awful roll of thunder, and the fearful brilliancy of the lightning, combined to supply all the terrible beauty which invests such scenes; especially when they surprise the startled adventurer upon his unknown path, and add their hostile influence to the unreckoned dangers that await his progress. The only means we had of preserving our only suit of clothes dry from the drenching showers of rain was by taking them off, and stuffing them into the hollow of a tree, which in the darkness of the night we could do with propriety.
Within an hour the weather had cleared up, and was as fine as before the squall. The change came just in time for me to secure a meridian altitude of Achernar, which, with a set of sights for time, completed the requisite observations. We noticed a singular meteor in the East-South-East about 8 o’clock this evening, darting perpendicularly upwards: it lasted for ten seconds: between the hour mentioned and midnight, we saw a great many, passing chiefly from south-east to north-west. At nine, having set the watches for the night, we lay down to sleep, and passed a quiet night with a temperature of 85 degrees, and a north-west wind.
November 9.
We started early the following morning, after having obtained a set of bearings, and followed the bank of the river to the north-west for half a mile, then forded it and took a north-easterly direction, passing close to the foot of some hills forming the south side of the valley of the river, which at this place is scarcely a mile wide. High tableland formed the west side of it, and low broken ranges trending east, bounded it in that direction.