Monday, 18th August, 1828
On the morning of the 18th August we proceeded from the Limestone Hills south-westerly, towards the hollow in the ridge of the principal or Dividing Range.
Immediately on leaving the limestone base, and entering the closer- timbered forest, the land gradually rises and the soil changes to a hungry grit, productive only of small and stunted timber and brushy plants. At our second miles an open moderately undulated forest ground, appearing at S.W. by S., we pursued our course in that direction through a variety of nearly level country, the rock formation of which was chiefly a coarse sandstone quartz and very fine specimens of jasper being here and there strewed in the forest ground.
Occasionally the land became more thinly and lightly wooded, the soil of which was of a dark rich quality, strewed with small fragments of calcareous stone, the general appearance altogether inducing a conclusion that we were approaching open downs.
Almost immediately, however, the more lofty timbered forest succeeded, continuing for several miles level and of monotonous feature. Passing at length a tea-tree flat bearing obvious marks on the surface of partial inundation in seasons of protracted rain, we came upon the bank of a narrow but deep creek,11 falling north-easterly towards Bremer’s river, which, although at this season a mere chain of stagnant pools, exhibited on its banks traces of floods twenty feet above its then low level.
Crossing, we left this creek winding from the southward, and continuing our route to the southward and westward to our eleventh mile, I despatched a man to search for water in the direction of the remarkable level-topped hill seen from the Limestone Station, and named by Mr. Oxley in 1824 “Mt. Forbes.” Such had been the lengthened period of dry weather that we were obliged to extend our stage beyond the strength of the bullocks to the thirteenth mile, ere we found a sufficiency of water for our consumption.
No natives were met with in this stage, although patches of the forest grasses had been very lately fired, and the recent traces of these people were noticed on the trunks of the tea-trees, from which they had torn off the outer paper-like bark to roof their huts.
Tuesday, 19th August, 1828
After some heavy showers of rain in the night accompanied by thunder, the morning of the 19th (August) broke upon us exceedingly clear, pleasant, and cool, the mean temperature of the atmosphere at six o’clock being 61 deg.
Our route to the southward and westward was resumed about seven o’clock, and having traversed a level patch of open forest on the eastern side of Mount Forbes, abounding in grass, we reached some hilly ground at our third mile of very rugged stony surface. On gaining the summit of a ridge, a most pleasing and extensive view was laid open to us from S.W. to S., and thence to E and E.N.E.
At E.N.E., and thence to E.S.E., a large patch of plain lying N. and S., appeared beneath us, at a distance of about three miles, in many parts very verdant, and watered evidently by a large creek, the course of which was marked by a line of swamp oak winding through its centre. To this plain I attached the name of Bowerman, as a compliment to my friend, the officer in charge of His Majesty’s Magazines at Parramatta.
The elevated irregular ridge connected with Flinder’s Peak still further to the eastward was very conspicuous, presenting four distinct pinnacles; and to all the more distant points in a southerly direction, extending as far as Mount Lindesay, which was distinctly recognised, bearings were taken.
On quitting the ridge, we descended to a grassy vale, and then continued our journey to the S.S.W., through a forest tract, plentifully clothed with grass, but as far as our observation extended, destitute of water. As every part of the timbered lands, through which our course led us, bore manifest proofs of the long existing droughts that have prevailed through this, and other parts of New South Wales, I began to be apprehensive that we should not readily meet with water for our evening’s use. On completing our tenth mile at the pitch of a low ridge, the ground appeared on its S.W. side to dip easterly. I therefore sent one of the people to make a diligent search for water in that direction. This was almost immediately met with in deep holes, and as there was abundance of good grass around for our oxen I again halted. At night a wind from about S.S.W. sprang up, which freshening to a hard gale, obliged us to secure our tents by strong wires, to prevent their being blown down. The wind continued with unabated violence throughout the night, and until about sunrise of the following morning, when it moderated considerably.
Wednesday, 20th August, 1828
Being by estimation about twelve miles to the N.E. of the pass through the Dividing Range, it was my fullest intention to have penetrated as near to its immediate base in the course of the day as the nature of the interjacent country would permit us. We therefore quitted our encamping ground, soon after sunrise, but soon had to regret the inability of the bullocks to travel over some stony hills, which lay in my course in the earlier part of our journey, owing to the extreme tenderness of their feet, increased probably by the stages of the preceding days, which the circumstances of the country had obliged me to lengthen in our search for water. In consequence, I was obliged to halt in a valley among the hills, having made only four miles towards the Pass. At noon I found our latitude to be 27 deg. 56 min. 48 sec. S., and in the afternoon observed an azimuth, which gave a variation of the compass of 10 deg. 3 min. E. The smoke of natives’ fires was seen curling above the trees a little to the eastward of us, but these people kept themselves very quiet, not a voice was heard, or a person seen.
Thursday, 21st August, 1828
About 7 a.m. we made another attempt to penetrate to the foot of the main range. Climbing a forest ridge at S.W. without difficulty, the bullocks descended (by the care of my people) amidst much fallen timber and loose stones, to a valley stretching north and south, which we crossed, continuing towards the range over an irregular surface of forest ground to our fifth mile, when we intersected the stony beds of a mountain torrent, twelve yards in width, at this season perfectly dry, but evidently at other periods filled to the depth of six feet. The position of the drift wood on its shallow bank showed us that its fall was to the south; it, therefore, most probably pours its rapid waters into the Richmond of Captain the Hon. H.I. Rous, the trunk of which it doubtless meets at a much lower level.
Passing the stony channel of this watercourse, we traversed an apple-tree flat, pursuing our way over some hilly ground to a narrow valley, where meeting with fine water, we again halted within four miles of the actual mouth of the Gap. As it was early in the afternoon, I despatched an intelligent man to look at and examine (in a partial way) the hollow in the mountain ridge directly open to our encampment.
After an absence of five hours he returned, having failed in his attempt to climb to the pitch of the Gap – a wall of perpendicular rocks rising from a ravine stopping his progress after he had advanced in direct distance about three miles.
From the precipitous aspect of this hollow in the Main Range, its elevated appearance, its breadth between the boundary heads, added to the total impracticability of gaining its level from the spot on which our tents stood, I was induced to conceive that the Gap, into which I had simply looked from its western side in June, 1827, and which certainly did appear to offer a very practicable passage through to the eastward, was very distinct from the one now before us, and as the Dividing Range to the north of us trended out easterly, I felt disposed to believe it was to be discovered a few miles in that direction.
Friday, 22nd Friday, 1828
With this impression on my mind, we left the spot on which we had rested on the morning of the 22nd, to proceed round the extremes of the lateral ridges, a day’s journey to the north; intending to observe attentively as we travelled along the grassy valley we had crossed every indentation of the main range. We immediately entered the valley, and in five miles reached its head, which to the eastward is bounded by rather elevated open forest hills. On passing a very moderate grassy ridge, stretching E. and W., I observed the latitude. Continuing about two miles, we descended to an apple-tree flat, watered by a creek running to the northward, on which we encamped.
The low grassy ridge, above-mentioned, although of exceedingly moderate rise above the plane of the country on either side, is nevertheless sufficiently elevated to give opposite directions to waters discharged on our east coast, but at points widely separated from each other. We remarked that those streams falling on the northern side (its direction being east and west) eventually joined the Bremer, whilst those descending southerly meandered through a length of valley to an open country lying south-westerly from Mount Lindesay, and without doubt are received into the Richmond, the embouchure of which Captain Rous has recently discovered upwards of one hundred miles to the south of Moreton Bay.
Saturday, 23rd August, 1828
As I had determined to remain encamped during the 22nd [23rd], I despatched two of my people at daybreak to the summit of a very steep forest ridge immediately to the westward of us, with directions to penetrate to the highest point of the Dividing Range from which they would be able to make such remarks on the western country as would enable me to form a just idea of the situation of the Pass of the last year, and especially by any bearings that might be taken to the extensive downs, then discovered on the western side of this formidable range. Meanwhile, I ascertained our situation, latitude by observation 27 deg. 55 min. 45 sec. South; longitude, deduced from the meridian of the Limestone Hills, 152 deg. 27 min. 30 sec. S. Among the brushes that overshadowed the creek on which we were encamped, grew most luxuriantly, the native bignonia and a fine clematis, and being inter- twined and abundantly in flower, formed the richest festoons.
Whilst on the subject of the flora of this fine country, so generally interest- ing in all its features, it may be observed that leaving the viney banks of the Brisbane out of the account, the whole line of the country through which we have travelled since we left Brisbane Town, important as really certain portions of it are to the grazier, has nevertheless proved by no means so interesting to the botanist.
The grasses are chiefly those of the colony, the richer flats and alluvial grounds being adorned with that blooming vetch called by botanists Swainsona, with Lotus australis or bird’s-foot trefoil, as also a geranium and a senecio frequent in the Bathurst country. The collections of dried plants that were found were therefore detected on the barren rocky ridges and stony mountains that lay in the way of our expedition.
In this place I will merely notice the singular association of our common eucalypti with the tree of a genus whose splendid scarlet flowers renders it very conspicuous among even the more brilliant subjects of the flora of intertropical countries. The tree I allude to is a species of erythrina or coral tree, which I first observed in an excursion to the foot of Flinders’ Peak. Under the Dividing Range I frequently met with it, in a forest of blighted uncomely ironbark forming a tree thirty-five feet high with a smooth trunk, but thorny branches, and during the winter months without leaves.
Its last year’s pods continued hanging at the extremities of the branches, and although pigeons (which abound in these woods) and other faboevorous birds had eaten most of the seeds, still many of a brilliant red colour were found among the grass beneath each tree.
It was late in the afternoon ere my two men found their way back to the encampment, when I learnt from them that from the grassy ridge which they had ascended in front of the tents, they had gained a lofty point of the Dividing Range, to the south-west, from which they observed among the very elevated mountains bounding their view at west, a valley extending through them in the direction of N.N.W., to a very low declining country at that bearing, but as no appearance of plain could be perceived, and as there did not appear any part of the main range to the north worth the examination for the gap, so obvious in the winter journey in 1827, it was rationally concluded that either the hollowback we had just left was the identical pass of the last year, or that it was in its immediate vicinity. With this view I concurred, and therefore on the morning of the 24th we returned southerly towards it, with the fullest determination to examine leisurely the main range about it from the extreme points of which I felt quite certain the last year’s gap would be discovered.
About one o’clock we passed a mile to the southward of our last position, and entering a valley, we pitched the tents within three miles of the entrance of the gap, now suspected to be the Pass of last year’s journey.
It being early in the afternoon, I sent one of the people (who having been of my party on that long tour, knew well the features of the country lying to the westward of the Dividing Range) to trace a series of forest ridges which appeared to lead directly up to the foot of the hollowback of the range. To my utmost gratification, he returned at dusk, having traced the ridge about two-and-a-half miles to the foot of the Dividing Range, whence he ascended into the Pass, and, from a grassy head immediately above it, beheld the extensive country lying west of the main range.
He recognised Darling and Canning Downs, patches of Peel’s Plains, and several remarkable points of the forest hills on that side, fully identifying this hollowback with the Pass discovered last year at the head of Millar’s Valley, notwithstanding its very different appearance when viewed from the eastern country.
Monday, 25th August, 1828
Resting my oxen on the 25th, I determined to occupy the whole of the day in the examination of this very important passage from the coast lands through a formidable main range of mountains to a vast, and for the most part, undefined extent of pastoral country on their western side. Accompanied by my servant, with an odometer or measuring wheel, we commenced our interesting labours of the day at 7 a.m.
From the valley in which we were encamped we immediately ascended a low forest ridge at south, trending S.S.W. and S.W. throughout the first mile and a-half. The acclivity proved most gradual, and the surface of the ridge, although occasionally rather rugged, was rendered so by small fragments of rock easy to be removed. Continuing to trace the leading ridge, we found an ample passage between detached masses of sandstone, which were covered with parasites (of ferns and dendrobia, or rock lilies) of species heretofore only found within the tropical circle.
In another half-mile the ridge takes a decided bend to the westward, and its surface becoming wider presented an open patch of forest ground, timbered chiefly with oak and apple tree, in quantity sufficient for a small farm. The ridge at length narrows again, but the acclivity continues most progressive. Patches of brush now clothe the sides of the ridge, as also the gullies falling from it, leaving its back clear of wood, open and grassy.
At about two and three-quarter miles the ridge bends to the northward of west, and immediately the summit of the Pass appeared broad before us, bounded on each side by most stupendous heads,+1 towering at least two thousand feet above it.
Here the difficulties of the passage commence; we had now penetrated to the actual foot of the pass without the smallest difficulty; it now remained to ascend by a steep slope to the level of its entrance. This slope is occupied by a very close wood, in which red cedar, sassafras, palms, and other ornamental intertropical trees are frequent.
Through this shaded wood we penetrated, climbing up a steep bank of very rich loose earth, in which large fragments of a very compact rock (a white stone) are bedded. At length we gained the foot of a wall of bare rock, which we found stretching from the southward into the Pass. This face of naked rock we perceived (by tracing its base northerly) gradually to fall to the common level, so that without the smallest difficulty, and to my utmost surprise, we found ourselves in the highest part of the Pass, having fully ascertained the extent of the difficult part from the entrance into the wood to this point not to exceed four hundred yards. We now pushed our way westerly through this extraordinary defile, and in less than half-a-mile of level surface, clothed with a thick brush of plants common to the Brisbane river, reached the opposite side of the main range, where I observed the waters fell westerly to Millar’s Valley, beneath us.
Climbing the northern summit of Mount Mitchell, which bounds the pass on the south, it was with no small pleasure that I passed my eye over the beautiful tract of country, at which my labours of the last year had closed. Portions of Canning and Darling Downs, with patches of Peel’s Plains were distinctly recognised at distances of twenty and thirty miles. The en- trance to Logan Vale, indicated by the table-topped hill named last year ‘Mount Sturt,’ was also observed, as was the forest ridge overhanging that rich valley beneath which my tents stood several days at that period. My elevated situation on Mount Mitchell enabled me to take bearings to points whose positions are fixed, as well on the western as the eastern sides of the Barrier Ranges, and thus most satisfactorily affording me the amplest materials to connect on the map of the country the northern points of my last year’s to these very elevated points of the Dividing Range, which are very distinctly seen over fifty-four miles of wooded country from Brisbane Town. The south head, which forms a long-backed mount with a lofty point at each extremity I have named Mount Mitchell, in honour of the Surveyor-General of this territory, whilst the north head was entitled Mount Cordeaux, as a compliment to Wm. Cordeaux, Esq., of the Surveyor-General’s department.”.
The day was considerably advanced by the time we had effected these truly interesting observations; we therefore descended to the Pass, and making the best of our way along the eastern forest ridge, reached the encampment about eight o’clock, having been occupied in severe exercise about thirteen hours.
This passage through the Dividing Range is geographically situated in latitude 28 deg. 2 min. 40 sec. S., and longitude (reduced from the meridian of the Limestone Station) 152 deg. 24 min. 20 sec. E., and lies S.W. from Brisbane Town fifty-four miles, being also in direct distance from the sea coast near Point Danger (of Captain Cook) about sixty-four geographical miles.
The weather had favoured our operations throughout the whole of the day, but we had scarcely been seated within our tents half-an-hour, before the sky became overcast, and heavy clouds passing over us to the eastward in a rapid succession, presaged the storm that was gathering in and beyond the heights above us. I had timely taken the precaution to direct the securing of the tents by extra guys, and, therefore, felt fully prepared to meet the impending tempest. The thunder (which the otherwise stillness of these solitudes had allowed us to hear in the distance) at length approached in rolling peals, and, accompanied by the most vivid lightning and a deluging rain, commenced a storm as awful, at the same time as grand, as any that are to be witnessed in elevated intertropical countries. With unabated violence the tempest continued until after midnight, when, as if suddenly exhausted, the wind moderated, the clouds broke, gradually sinking down towards the horizon, and a bright moon, just past the full, now burst forth with many a brilliant star, to assure us, by affording us light to observe the extreme pinnacles of the mountains perfectly divested of clouds, that at length calm, serene, and settled weather was again restored to us. During the whole of this thunder- storm the temperature of the atmosphere continued without variation: the thermometer stood at 64 deg.
Tuesday, 26th August, 1828
On the 26th, (August) we commenced our journey back to the Limestone station, distant something under forty miles. The surface of the soil felt to the foot quite saturated with the rains of the last night, and vegetables, generally speaking, assumed a lively verdure, evidently refreshed by the showers that had fallen. We soon reached our last encampment on the creek that ran northerly to the Bremer, and thence pursued a course to the north, with the design of passing to the westward of Mount Forbes. This line of route led us over some exceedingly moderate forest ridges, clothed with a luxuriant carpet of grass, and timbered with loftier and statelier ironbark than we had for some time previous remarked.
In two miles these undulated grounds, which furnish excellent sheep and cattle pasture, dip to the level of an apple-tree flat of very rich soil, which appeared to extend northerly several miles, and forming, by the gentle hills on its eastern side, and the forest ridges connected with or fronting the Dividing Range westerly, a most beautiful valley, well watered by the creek, on which we had rested on the 22nd.
Continuing north about three miles, through this very level valley, a patch of plain opened on our view, round the skirts of which the creek, which we had just previously crossed, bent its course. This plain, to which I feel gratified in attaching the name of Lieutenant Bainbrigge, of His Majesty’s 57th Regiment, and at present the very active engineer at Brisbane Town, measured a mile and a quarter in diameter, and is of an irregular square figure. It contains about eight hundred acres of beautiful land, of as truly a level as it is possible to conceive any patch of ground could be, untouched by the hand of man.
Nothing can possibly exceed the richness and mellowness of its fine black soil, and, certainly, there is not in any explored part of New South Wales a more beautiful subject for the pencil of the artist than the landscape presented to the traveller from the centre of Bainbrigge’s Plain, to which no description of mine can possibly do justice. On its north-western side Bainbrigge’s Plain is bounded by a hummocky ridge of thinly wooded forest hills, forming a chain of pretty grassy mounds, behind which the more colossean main range uprears its bold and towering heads, stretching its rugged outline far to the southward.
Immediately on the S.E. low forest ridges, and some detached hills, meet the eye, and one rather elevated and of remarkable figure I named Mount Fraser, after my friend and fellow-traveller. Whenever this country is thrown open to the grazier, and a public road is constructed through the mountain defile just explored to the exterior western pastures, then will Bainbrigge’s plain become a stage, being nearly equidistant from the Limestone station and the Pass, from each, when a well beaten road is formed, not exceeding a day’s journey.
In about six miles further to the N.N.E. we made the foot of Mount Forbes, where I determined to rest a whole day, as well to fix its geographical position as to obtain from its commanding summit a full set of bearings to all points around, and by them to connect and close the sketch of my journey.
Thursday, 28th August, 1828
From this elevation, which is certainly five hundred feet above the plane of the circumjacent country, the eye surveyed an interesting and varied panorama, consisting of every description of country to be met with in New South Wales, brought fully within the reach of vision. I set up an excellent Schmalcalder’s compass, and, beginning at a point, took bearings to every eminence of moment on the circumference of the circle. As these bearings were to points, already frequently mentioned, no observation need again be made of them. I would, however, simply remark that from this situation I was at length enabled to fix the true situations of two lofty hills marked on the chart of the country to the southward, which I named Mount Edwards and Mount Greville, the latter in honour of a very distinguished Scotch botanist.
Of certain parts of this curiously diversified country it may be important to know that, upon passing to the eastward of the range of Flinders Peak, the land appears a perfect level to the coast, which an eastern line would intersect about the southern extreme of Stradbroke Island, so that if it should at any period be deemed expedient to order a road to be formed from this hill direct to that part of the coast, when perhaps, shipping might ride in safety in what is termed the Southern passage, there appears no difficulty on passing the line of ridge stretching southerly from Flinders Peak to prevent its being fully effected.
The seeming valley through which the Brisbane river flows easterly from the sources at N.W., is bounded on the north by an elevated range of forest hills, in which I perceived, at an estimated distance of forty miles, a break, through which I could discern a very distant low country to the north of it.
Tracing this northern range in a westerly direction, it was observed to decline at W.N.W., and at length to soften down to the distant blue line of horizon.
The principal or Dividing Range, so formidable a barrier as it really is, in and to the southward of this parallel of latitude, was observed from this hill to bend its lengthened ridge to the N.W. and west, and in about thirty-five or forty miles to terminate, leaving a space between to the western extreme of the northern forest range above mentioned, so truly level that the sight is lost on the vast levels that meet with no visible boundary to the westward.
Here, then, is an opening between the ranges through which a fully equipped, well-directed exploring party might pass, with the view, not simply of carrying on the sketch of the interior from these points to the tropical circle, but also of acquiring more precise notions of the aspect and capabilities of the distant internal country bearing in a W.N.W. direction, than we at present possess.
The summit of Mount Forbes presents a narrow level ridge at its southern extreme, from which it gradually contracts northerly until it becomes a sharp ledge of rocks, having on the eastern and western sides precipitous. falls of two hundred feet. The rock is an ironstone, upon which the decomposing effects of the elements were everywhere obvious, and which, doubtless, has given the mountain its sharp figure, when viewed either from the north or south thus: its appearance from east being thus.
Having ascertained the situation of Mount Forbes as follows, we prosecuted our journey to the north, along a continuance of the valley traversed on the 27th: – latitude, 27 deg. 47 min. 00 sec. S.; longitude, 152 deg. 35 min. 00 sec. E. At noon our latitude (observed on the bank of the Bremer), placed us five miles south of the Limestone Hills, which bore from us E.N.E. about fifteen miles. This distance we effected through a level open forest country early in the afternoon of the 30th, after having been absent from that station twelve days.
I have now laid before Your Excellency a detail of all the leading circumstances of the journeys of geographical research which I had undertaken during my visit to Moreton Bay, and I now close this lengthened communication with a few remarks on the future importance of Bremer’s river as a navigable stream, and the direction to be taken in the construction of a line of road from the Limestone Hills, southerly, to the Pass and Great Western Downs. During my stay at the Limestone Hills, and just previous to my return to Brisbane Town in September last, I traced the Bremer, through its various windings, to its junction with the Brisbane, measuring on its bank the length of each reach; and from the material I then collected I have now constructed the accompanying outline, to which I beg to refer your Excellency, Bremer’s river, which at its mouth is about forty yards wide, preserves an uniformity of breadth of thirty and thirty-five yards throughout its tortuous course of ten miles to the Limestone Station, which point may be considered the head of navigation, for, almost immediately beyond, ledges of rocks occupy the bed of the river, which at length rises and separates the fresh water from the salt. To this station (up to which the tide flows) the Bremer is of sufficient depth to be navigable for boats or craft of thirty or forty tons, and as it expands and forms a natural basin a short distance below the station of upwards of one hundred yards in width, and with a depth of water sufficient to float a large ship, the importance of building a wharf on the right bank at this basin, to which the produce of the interior might be conveyed to be embarked, will be at some future day seen. The circumstance, moreover, of this river being thus far navigable for craft of a certain class, and the consequent saving to the farmer of that expense which is necessarily attendant on the wear and tear of a long land-carriage of internal produce to the coast, cannot possibly fail, when this country becomes settled on, to be duly considered.
It is therefore highly probable that upon the site of these Limestone Hills a town will one day be raised.
With reference to the direction of a line of road from this station south- westerly to the Pass through the Dividing Range, I observe that, in order to avoid the stony hills, among which my outward bound course led me, on the eastern side of Mount Forbes, the road should be conducted on a line drawn from the Limestone Hills south-west, by compass, eighteen miles, which will not only pass through an open country of slight undulation, in which one bridge will be required to be thrown over a creek, but it will extend fully to the valley along which I travelled north in my return from the pass, leaving Mount Forbes to the eastward: after which it might be continued through this vale south to Bainbrigge’s Plain, at which may terminate the first stage.
The road may then be carried on without the slightest difficulty south twelve miles to the spot (distinctly marked on chart), on which my tents stood on the 24th and 25th of August last, and which may be readily recognised by an intersection of the following bearings to points in the vicinity of the pass: south head of Mount Mitchell, S. 37 W. magnetic; north head and station on Mount Mitchell, S. 47 W.; centre of Pass, W. 24 S., distant 22 miles; Mount Cordeaux, W. 35 S., distant three miles. The main range appearing thus.
The particular spot being ascertained from which the above bearings were taken, the forest ridge leading to the base of the Pass will be immediately seen. In continuing the line of road along the ridge little labour will be required, as the stones and masses of rocks that lie in the way are detached, and may be easily removed.
In the formation of a practicable road through the last quarter of a mile to the pitch of the pass, the skill of the practical engineer will be called into action. There are abundance of materials of stone and large timber on the spot at his command, and there is sufficient room to avoid the abrupt face by which we ascended, by taking a sweep round so as to intersect the wall of rocks further to the southward, and then by tracing it northerly to the point at which it terminates in the Pass.
The passage through the Pass westerly to the head of Millar’s Valley requires simply the brush to be cut away, the construction of a small bridge over a narrow water channel, and the ground (otherwise quite level) smoothed, by a removal of some rounded stones from the surface, which have evidently rolled down from the overhanging heights. Although time was not afforded me to trace Millar’s Valley down to Darling Downs, still I feel fully satisfied from the observations I made from Mount Mitchell that no difficulty exists in the fall of the vale, which appeared in every part exceedingly moderate. The distance from Darling Downs to Brisbane Town by the nearest line of communication overland is about seventy-seven miles; in consequence, however, of there being a sufficiency of water in the Bremer to navigate small craft of forty tons ten miles to the Limestone Hills, the land carriage from the Western Downs is reduced by the above projected line of road to sixty statute miles.
An excursion made in September last (upon my return from the Pass) from the Limestone Station, north to the channel of the Brisbane, which I intersected in five miles at a point visited by Mr. Oxley and myself in 1824 and which I clearly recognised, has enabled me to connect most satisfactorily (as regards geographical position) the westernmost point to which our late very able Surveyor-General had penetrated on his second visit to the Brisbane, with what I have now attempted to effect. The tortuous course of the river is therefore carried on upon the accompanying chart to that point.
Beyond this spot the river was subsequently (in 1825) traced up in a north-western direction by Major Lockyer, of which boat excursion a notice has appeared in a late number of Wilton’s Quarterly Journal.66 It is to be regretted that possessed of so much zeal and perseverance, this gentle- man had not provided himself with the requisite instruments for the determination of the positions of his several stations, and more particularly of the extreme point to which the means he possessed had enabled him to reach. Its latitude (which I am fully disposed to believe would have placed him – had it been observed – considerably to the southward of 27 deg. S.) would have been very important to the geographer.
Being thus aware that this excellent gentleman had no means of ascertaining the geographical situation of this point, and as he has not furnished us with a single bearing of any one known fixed point, I have left the river just where my late friend Mr. Oxley did, rather than add to it the trace of its channel by Major Lockyer, which I observe marked on a badly engraved chart of the colony recently published by Cross.
I beg now to close this communication, which I have the honour to lay before your Excellency, accompanied by a reduced geographical sketch, and two plans of portions of the country traversed: and I respectfully trust that your Excellency will feel fully satisfied, upon a perusal of this report, that I have endeavoured, to the utmost of my ability, to render perfect my journey of the last year, overland from the colony, by carrying on my sketch through the Dividing Range to the banks of the Brisbane river and shores of Moreton Bay, and thus filling up the map of the country by the very ample material collected in the progress of my several excursions to the parallel of 27 deg. S.