# Once a Week (magazine)/Series 1/Volume 8/Return of the rival explorers

RETURN OF THE RIVAL EXPLORERS.
Indomitable perseverance has at length won the day, and the renowned explorer, John Macdouall Stuart, succeeded on a third attempt in making his way from the settlements of South Australia right across the Continent to the Indian Ocean.
It will be remembered that Stuart on his first exploration in 1860 (an account of which was given in our February number of 1861) was driven back by hostile natives after reaching 18° 47′ S., this brave man’s party being then composed of only two others besides himself.
Nothing daunted, in 1861 he again renewed the endeavour to reach the Gulf of Carpentaria; but was again doomed to disappointment, his course northward being checked in latitude 17° S. by a broad belt of scrub, which seemed to preclude all further advance. On the two first attempts, Stuart’s instructions had been to make if possible for the Victoria River; and, by so doing, come upon Gregory’s track: and, failing that, to push straight forward for the Gulf of Carpentaria.
On the present occasion, when he again came up with this interminable belt of scrub, which appeared to hem him in on all sides, Stuart at first endeavoured to make for the Victoria River, but finding that impracticable as before, he turned due north; and succeeded, after six weeks, in cutting a passage through the scrub.
Starting, as on previous trips, from some of the more northerly stations of Mr. Chambers (his great patron and supporter, who unfortunately did not live to see the final accomplishment of that project, the development and expense of which had been mainly borne by him), Stuart kept along his previous tracks until he reached his furthest limit of 1861, not far from the northern boundary line of South Australia, without encountering any difficulties more than a slight brush with the natives, who were, however, easily overawed by a few shots being fired over their heads.
From this point, the new features of interest as well as the difficulties of the present exploration began. Taking advantage of the neighbourhood of a large sheet of water called Newcastle Water, a depôt was formed, and Stuart and his party prepared to cut their way, as previously mentioned, through the dense scrub, an undertaking which cost them six weeks of most untiring exertions.
Before he started, the veteran explorer had foreseen that his greatest obstacle would be at this point, and had purposely fixed upon Newcastle Water as a spot from which supplies of that most necessary element could be carried forward into the scrub, or on which they could fall back in the event of being obliged to retreat. Even here however, they were agreeably disappointed, since ample supplies of water were discovered in the scrub. The idea which he had formed proved correct. No sooner had they got through this dense belt, the northern limit of which was in 16° 30′ N., than the character of the country entirely changed, and they entered a well-watered fertile territory. Following a north and north-east direction, the party came upon a branch of the Roper River, the course of which they continued to pursue until they reached the main stream, which rises in a rocky and hilly country. Besides the Roper, they crossed several creeks, and in latitude 13° 50′, and longitude 132° 30′, reached a high table-land. On the other side of the table-land they struck a large river with a strong current passing through a well-grassed country. The party then traced the banks of the river, which ran north-easterly, till they arrived in latitude 12° 50′, and longitude 131° 40′, when it turned and flowed towards the north, which being their course they kept company with it for about 30 miles.
Stuart then struck due east for about ten or fifteen miles, and, finally journeying due north, reached the seashore at Van Diemen’s Gulf on July 24th, having been out then nearly six months. What must have been the feelings of his indomitable spirit, when, after all his toils, after having been twice driven back by the dense scrub, he at length stood on the Arnheim hills, and looked out on the blue waters of the Indian Ocean, it is impossible to tell. The 10,000 Greeks, when, on their memorable retreat, they at last caught sight of the Mediterranean shores, were transported with delight, and shouted, “The Sea! the Sea!” The Spanish General Balboa, when he came unexpectedly on the Pacific Ocean, rushed in, and, sword in hand, took possession of it in the name of the king his master; but the man whose name hereafter will stand pre-eminent as the Australian explorer, whose unflinching resolution enabled him on this his third attempt to carry the point, in trying for which so many have perished, and whose own hand has cut through dense scrubs, and over sandy plains, the future highway of that continent, was satisfied with dipping his feet and washing his face and hands in the Indian Ocean.
As Columbus was not the first to get a glimpse of the land which betokened the existence of the New World, so neither was Stuart the first to catch sight of that sea which indicated that the task was done.
Thring, one of the party who rode in advance, called out “The Sea,” which so took them all by surprise, and they were so astonished, that he had to repeat the call before they knew what he meant. Hearing which, they gave three long and hearty cheers. In order to signalise the great event of their arrival on the northern seaboard, Stuart immediately hoisted the Union Jack, having had a tree denuded of its branches for that purpose, while at the foot of an adjoining one he planted a tin case, containing a statement of the date of his arrival and the object of his visit, signed by every one present. A few congratulatory words were addressed to the members of the expedition by Stuart, Kekwick, and Waterhouse, and other simple demonstrations were made in honour of the successful issue of the journey. The sea-coast turned out to be Point Hotham, ​nearly opposite Melville’s Island, a promontory lying midway between the Adelaide and West Alligator Rivers. On either side of Point Hotham were two inlets of the Gulf, which Mr. Stuart named respectively Chambers Bay and Finke Bay, and the river, whose course lay parallel with his track for thirty or forty miles, was none other than the Adelaide.
Not satisfied with merely reaching the sea on Van Diemen’s Gulf, Stuart proceeded alone for some distance towards the Gulf of Carpentaria; but, as his diary has not yet been published, we cannot say what were the results of his explorations in that direction. Before referring to the nature of the country passed through, and the details of the return journey, we may remark that a line of route has now been laid down from Adelaide to Port Essington, which has been traversed by Stuart and his parties half a dozen times, and that—thanks to the efforts of McKinlay and Burke—a track has been made traversable even in the driest seasons, terminating not on the Gulf of Carpentaria, where the low and swampy nature of the sea-shore would offer great obstacles to the navigation of ships trading with India and China, but on the coast six degrees beyond the head of the Gulf.
Past the dense belt of scrub, which none but the stout heart and the strong arm would have persevered for six weeks in cutting through, Stuart emerged into the country long since known to us by the discoveries of Gregory and Leichardt, by both of whom the Roper River was mentioned, especially by the latter, whose route to the sea-coast lay along its banks. Like them, he was much impressed with the fertility of the soil, the dense tropical vegetation in some places greatly impeding their progress, and the palm trees giving quite an oriental aspect to the scene. The rocks also are described as being similar to the auriferous strata of the south and eastern coast.
The return journey was made in seventeen weeks, great efforts being used to push on as hard as possible, since the water was drying up, and the horses were nearly exhausted.
When Stuart left the furthest out station, he took with him seventy-one horses, and was enabled to bring back forty-eight, owing to the happy circumstance of never having been short of water, save for two nights, during the whole outward route.
On the homeward journey they were not so fortunate, since, on one occasion, they were two days and a half without finding any; but, altogether, the privations experienced on this trip were nothing to those met with on his first exploration, when at one time he had been one hundred and eleven hours without water. The provisions are stated to have lasted well.
Still more are we surprised to learn that the whole party returned in the most perfect health, except Stuart himself.
Starting from Adelaide, very much impaired by his previous trips, besides meeting with an accident to his hand, from which he had not recovered even on his return, Stuart overtaxed his iron frame, and became a victim to scurvy to such an extent that, during nearly the whole of the journey back, he could neither sit nor stand, but was carried in an ambulance or litter swung between two horses.
As he drew nearer the settled districts of South Australia, his strength somewhat returned, and when he reached the Burra he was able to reply to the first of many addresses which awaited him. One statement which fell from his lips evinced that the indomitable pluck was not yet extinguished, though his body was so weak from scurvy and exhaustion that he had to be supported while standing. Alluding to the probability of this being his last trip, he added, “Unless some one goes and accomplishes more than I have done, when I shall have to try again, for I will not be surpassed in the field of exploration.”
All along the line of route—at every station on the railway—crowds of people pressed forward to welcome home the great explorer. Wherever he passed, everything and everybody wore a holiday aspect; flags were flying, bands were playing, “See the conquering Hero comes,” where but a week before the honoured remains of the late Victorian explorers, Burke and Wills, had been carried in solemn procession to Port Adelaide en route for Melbourne.
When at last Stuart reached his adopted city, Adelaide gave itself up to the wildest intoxication of joy; the railway-platform, the streets, the very houses on the road, were crammed with people anxious to catch a glimpse of the man who had travelled through from south to north, and back again, so that it was with great difficulty that he was conveyed to the house of his late patron, Mr. James Chambers, where, for the ensuing month, strict rest and silence were enjoined to ensure restoration to health.
It will be remembered that during the years 1859 and 1860, Burke and Stuart, whose names have now become imperishable in the annals of Australia, had been appointed to the command of expeditions for exploring the interior, and finding out a practicable route to the Gulf of Carpentaria; the one from South Australia, headed by Stuart, was until this last expedition maintained solely by private resources, yet we all know how, with a few horses, two companions, and very slender means, this experienced bushman pushed to within 150 miles of the northern coast. When he returned from his second unsuccessful attempt, Burke had left Melbourne, as described in our March number of 1862, at the head of a magnificent cavalcade, sufficient it was supposed to force the desert to give up its long hidden secret; and, afraid lest the honour and fruits of all his previous laborious researches should be snatched from him when just about to win the prize, his own Government despatched Stuart at the head of twelve men and seventy-eight horses. How eminently successful he has been we have already detailed.
Perhaps much of the success of the Adelaide expedition has been owing to the extensive knowledge and long experience of the bush possessed by Mr. Stuart, together with the compact nature of his party: whereas Burke, unflinchingly brave and heroic, and undoubtedly successful, as testified by the very bare and barren fact that he did succeed in penetrating to the tidal flow of the Albert River on the north coast, knew nothing of ​a bush life, having passed his previous career in the Austrian military service. How miserably his party, when just newly started, became broken up by dissension and fear, and how wretchedly he perished from want of ordinary caution and forethought on the part of the relief expedition, is now known to every one.
No sooner had Howitt returned to Melbourne with King, the sole survivor of the once noble and amply fitted Victorian expedition, than Government resolved to despatch him again to Cooper’s Creek, to bring in the remains of Burke and Wills. This he has accomplished most satisfactorily, and the very propriety of doing so (which has been canvassed by the leading journalists of the day, who would have preferred that the remains should be interred on the spot where they fell) has been borne out by the fact, that on his return to Cooper’s Creek he discovered that, despite every precaution to the contrary, the wild dogs had burrowed into the graves, and taken away some portion of the skeletons. Howitt speaks highly of the docility and kindness of the natives of Cooper’s Creek, to whom alone we are indebted for the fortunate escape of King, but for which all trace of that portion of the Victorian expedition which really did go forward to the task assigned it would have perished, without leaving a scrap of record, like the unfortunate Leichardt.
As some return for the kindness shown by the natives to King, Howitt was furnished with a large stock of provisions, and a number of brass plates, which, by the instructions of the Victorian Exploration Committee, were distributed among the aborigines of the Creek.
The different issue of these two great men’s exertions corresponds with the nationality of character attributable to each. Burke, with the gallant impetuosity of his race, dashed at the interior, and, though he perished in the attempt, wrested the prize by coup de main. Stuart, with the plodding persevering nature of his countrymen, was “canny” in his first attempts, till slowly but surely acquired knowledge enabled him to perfect and bring to a most satisfactory conclusion the question of the main road across Australia.
If the Adelaide people gave way to ecstasies of delight on Stuart’s safe return, neither did they omit to pay every respect and honour to the remains of the less fortunate leader, as Howitt and his party came down the same route, where a few days subsequently followed the Australian explorer. At several of the townships on the road funeral processions spontaneously formed themselves, shops were closed, and not unfrequently volunteer bands attended, playing the Dead March in Saul. When at length the funeral cortége reached Adelaide on the 11th December, thousands of people, headed by the Mayor and Council, all the city functionaries, and an innumerable retinue of citizens joined the procession, and accompanied the remains to their temporary resting-place in the barracks. As the dark plumes that nodded over the hearse which contained the ashes of these gallant men passed slowly up the street, heads were uncovered, shutters were closed, and as with one heart the nation expressed its sympathy and sorrow. Upon arriving at the barracks, the coffin, which was mounted with black velvet, and had a brass plate on the lid inscribed with the initials of the departed, was borne by Messrs. Howitt, McKinlay, and Murray, veteran explorers just returned from the interior, to the first of whom the Mayor took the opportunity of briefly expressing the general satisfaction at the successful close of his journey, while at the same time he thanked the assembled multitude for their spontaneous tribute of esteem to the dead.
Mr. Howitt then opened the box, and disclosed two parcels sewn in canvas, containing the bones of the deceased gentlemen.