at the Grand Junction Depot form nearly the only exceptions
met. From that point the river decreased in size
with every branch creek that joined it, and now it
had decreased to nothing. No high ranges form
its head. The hills forming its water-shed become
gradually lower as we approach its termination, or
rather beginning, at the desert’s edge.
The desert’s edge is a raised plateau of over
2000 feet above the sea-level—the boiling
point of water being 208 degrees = 2049 feet—and
being about 350 miles in a straight line from where
the Ashburton debouches into the sea. My camp
upon the evening of the 29th of May, a little westward
of the bluff-faced hill before mentioned, was in latitude
24 degrees 25’ and longitude 119 degrees 58’.
We remained here during the 30th. The horizon
to the east was formed by a mass of low ranges; from
them we saw that several diminutive watercourses ran
into our exhausted channel. I could not expect
that any hills would extend much farther to the east,
or that I should now obtain any water much farther
in that direction. A line of low ridges ran all
round the eastern horizon, and another bluff-faced
hill lay at the south-west end of them. The whole
region had a most barren and wretched appearance, and
there was little or no vegetation of any kind that
the camels cared to eat. Feeling certain that
I should now almost immediately enter the desert,
as the explorer can scent it from afar, I had all our
water-vessels filled, as fortunately there was sufficient
water for the purpose, so that when we leave this
camp we shall not be entirely unprepared.
The morning of the 31st of May was again cold, the
thermometer falling to 27 degrees, and we had a sharp
frost. I was truly delighted to welcome this
long-expected change, and hoped the winter or cool
season had set in at last. This day we travelled
east, and went over low, rough ridges and stony spinifex
hills for several miles. At about eleven miles,
finding a dry water-channel, which, however, had some
good camel shrubs upon its banks, we encamped in latitude
24 degrees 28’, being still among low ridges,
where no definite view could be obtained. On
June the 1st we travelled nearly east-north-east towards
another low ridge. The ground became entirely
covered with spinifex, and I thought we had entered
the desert in good earnest; but at about six miles
we came upon a piece of better country with real grass,
being much more agreeable to look at. Going on
a short distance we came upon a dry water-channel,
at which we found a deep native well with bitter water
in it. We encamped in latitude 24 degrees 24’.
The night and following morning were exceedingly cold—the
thermometer fell to 18 degrees.
We had not yet reached the low ridge, but arrived
at it in two miles on the morning of the 2nd.
From it another low ridge bore 23 degrees north of
east, and I decided to travel thither.