As it was required to chop wood
for our evening fire, it could not be conveniently spared; but we promised him
that if he would visit us on the following morning, it should be given to him.
Not a murmur was heard; no suspicion of our insincerity; no mention
of benefits conferred; no reproach of ingratitude. His good humour
and cheerfulness were not clouded for a moment. Punctual to our appointment,
he came to us at daylight next morning and the hatchet was given to him,
the only token of gratitude and respect in our power to bestow. Neither
of these men had lost his front tooth.
THE LAST EXPEDITION
Which I ever undertook in the country I am describing was in July 1791,
when Mr. Dawes and myself went in search of a large river which was said
to exist a few miles to the southward of Rose Hill. We went to the place
described, and found this second Nile or Ganges to be nothing but
a saltwater creek communicating with Botany Bay, on whose banks we passed
a miserable night from want of a drop of water to quench our thirst,
for as we believed that we were going to a river we thought it needless
to march with full canteens.
On this expedition we carried with us a thermometer which (in unison
with our feelings) shewed so extraordinary a degree of cold for the latitude
of the place that I think myself bound to transcribe it.
Monday, 18th July 1791. The sun arose in unclouded splendor and presented
to our sight a novel and picturesque view. The contiguous country as white
as if covered with snow, contrasted with the foliage of trees flourishing
in the verdure of tropical luxuriancy*. Even the exhalation which steamed
from the lake beneath contributed to heighten the beauty of the scene.
Wind SSW. Thermorneter at sunrise 25 degrees. The following night
was still colder. At sunset the thermometer stood at 45 degrees;
at a quarter before four in the morning, it was at 26 degrees;
at a quarter before six at 24 degrees; at a quarter before seven, at
23 degrees; at seven o'clock, 22.7 degrees; at sunrise, 23 degrees, after which
it continued gradually to mount, and between one and two o'clock,
stood at 59.6 degrees in the shade. Wind SSW. The horizon perfectly clear
all day, not the smallest speck to be seen. Nothing but demonstration
could have convinced me that so severe a degree of cold ever existed
in this low latitude. Drops of water on a tin pot, not altogether out of
the influence of the fire, were frozen into solid ice in less than
twelve minutes. Part of a leg of kangaroo which we had roasted for supper
was frozen quite hard, all the juices of it being converted into ice.
On those ponds which were near the surface of the earth, the covering of ice
was very thick; but on those which were lower down it was found to be less so,
in proportion to their depression; and wherever the water was twelve feet
below the surface (which happened to be the case close to us)
it was uncongealed. It remains to be observed that the cold of both
these nights, at Rose Hill and Sydney, was judged to be greater than had
ever before been felt.
[*All the trees of New South Wales, may I apprehend, be termed evergreen.
For after such weather as this journal records, I did not observe either
that the leaves had dropped off, or that they had assumed that sickly
autumnal tint, which marks English trees in corresponding circumstances.]
CHAPTER XV.
Transactions of the Colony to the end of November, 1791.
The extreme dryness of the preceding summer has been noticed. It had operated
so far in the beginning of June that we dreaded a want of water for
common consumption most of the little reservoirs in the neighbourhood
of Sydney being dried up. The small stream near the town was so nearly
exhausted (being only the drain of a morass) that a ship could not have
watered at it, and the 'Supply' was preparing to sink casks in a swamp
when rain fell and banished our apprehensions.
June, 1791. On the second instant, the name of the settlement, at the head
of the harbour (Rose Hill) was changed, by order of the governor,
to that of Parramatta, the native name of it. As Rose Hill has, however,
occurred so often in this book, I beg leave, to avoid confusion,
still to continue the appellation in all future mention of it.
Our travelling friend Boladeree, who makes so conspicuous a figure
in the last chapter, about this time committed an offence which we were
obliged to notice. He threw a spear at a convict in the woods,
and wounded him. The truth was, some mischievous person belonging to us
had wantonly destroyed his canoe, and he revenged the injury on the first
of our people whom he met unarmed. He now seemed to think the matter
adjusted; and probably such is the custom they observe in their own society
in similar cases. Hearing, however, that an order was issued to seize him,
or in case that could not be effected, to shoot him, he prudently dropped
all connection with us and was for a long time not seen.
But if they sometimes injured us, to compensate they were often
of signal benefit to those who needed their assistance:
