I Am
Sure That Each In His Heart Thanked His God That He Had Been Pleased To
Bring Us Through Safely.
Once across the range we had seen from Mount
Bannerman - a range of quartzite hills which I named Cummins Range, after
the Warden at Hall's Creek - and we had reached the watershed of the
tributaries of the Margaret and Fitzroy Rivers.
From Cummins Range onward
until we struck the Margaret, we had very rough hills and rocks to
cross - this hard travelling after the yielding sand was most painful to
the camels, and their feet were soon sore and cut by the sharp edges of
rock. The country may be roughly described as slate bedded on edge, in
such a way as to leave sharp corners and points of rock sticking up in
all directions. Through the slate run veins of quartz, often rising above
the surface in huge blows, hills, and even small ranges. Innumerable
gullies crossed our path, and occasionally fair-sized creeks. Such a one
is Christmas Creek, which, where we saw it, is made up of three creeks
from fifty to eighty yards across, running almost parallel and not more
than half a mile apart. These soon meet and form a fine creek which joins
the Fitzroy many miles to the Westward. These creeks are fringed with
gums, Bauhinia, and Leichardt trees, all affording splendid shade - and
following the banks on either side is a belt of high grass and shrubs,
from which occasional kangaroos and wallabies bounded, alarmed by the
sound of our advancing caravan.
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