Starvation in a Land of Plenty: Wills' Diary of the Fateful Burke and Wills Expedition 9780642277909, 0642277907

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WILLS’ DIARY

O F T H E F AT E F U L

• STARVATION BURKE AND WILLS EXPEDITION

in a LAND of PLENTY •

Michael Cathcart

A

• STARVATION

in a LAND of PLENTY •

• STARVATION

in a LAND of PLENTY • WWills’ I L L S ’ diary DIARY

O F T H E F AT E F U L BURKE AND WILLS EXPEDITION

Michael Cathcart

NLA PUBLISHING

• Published by the National Library of Australia Canberra ACT 2600 © National Library of Australia 2013 Text © Michael Cathcart Books published by the National Library of Australia further the Library’s objectives to interpret and highlight the Library’s collections and to support the creative work of the nation’s writers and researchers. Every reasonable endeavour has been made to contact the copyright holders. Where this has not been possible, the copyright holders are invited to contact the publisher. Indigenous and Torres Strait Islander communities should be aware that this book contains images and names of people who are now deceased. This book is copyright in all countries subscribing to the Berne Convention. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Author: Cathcart, Michael, 1956Title: Starvation in a land of plenty: Wills’ diary of the fateful Burke and Wills expedition / Michael Cathcart. ISBN: 9780642277909 (pbk.) Notes: Includes index. Subjects: Wills, William John, 1834-1861--Diaries. Wills, William John, 1834-1861--Journeys--Australia. Burke and Wills Expedition (1860-1861) Australia--Discovery and exploration--1851-1900. This icon is used to Other Authors/ indicate corresponding Contributors: National Library of Australia. transcript text and Dewey Number: 994.03 facsimile reproduction from William Wills’ diary. Commissioning Publisher: Susan Hall Content consultant: Roslyn Russell Editors: Susan Shortridge and Emma Gregory Feature box text: Susan Shortridge and Emma Gregory Designer: Louise Dews Image coordinator: Gina Wyatt and Kathryn Ross Special photography: Digitisation & Photography Branch, National Library of Australia Research assistant: Maree Bentley Production coordinator: Melissa Bush Index: Sandra Henderson Printed in China through Australian Book Connection Find out more about National Library Publishing at http://publishing.nla.gov.au. Cover image: The painter Nicholas Chevalier imagined the explorers returning to the Cooper: Burke (in the black hat), Wills (showing the way), and King (following dutifully behind). To the left, the country is growing greener: rivergums signal that the Cooper is nearby. In reality, the men were in a more wretched state than this, barely able to walk, and wearing rags. The camels were skeletal wrecks.

• CONTENTS • INTRODUCTION 

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W I L L I A M W I L L S   13 B A C K G R O U N D O F T H E E X P E D I T I O N   25 K E Y M E M B E R S O F T H E E X P E D I T I O N   37 M E L B O U R N E T O M E N I N D E E   49 M E N I N D E E T O T H E D E P O T   65 T H E R A C E T O T H E G U L F   77 F R O M T H E G U L F T O S I L E N C E   91 F R O M T H E D E P O T D O W N T H E C O O P E R   105 L E A R N I N G F R O M T H E Y A N D R U W A N D H A   121 B R A H E A N D W R I G H T I N S E A R C H O F B U R K E A N D W I L L S   133 F R O M S T R Z E L E C K I C R E E K T O N O W H E R E   141 S T A R V AT I O N A N D D E AT H I N A L A N D O F P L E N T Y   159 T H E S E A R C H P A R T Y   181 T H E A F T E R M AT H   187 E N D N O T E S   192 L I S T O F I L L U S T R AT I O N S   198 I N D E X   207

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•INTRODUCTION • Robert O’Hara Burke and William Wills are yoked together by tragedy as ‘Burke and Wills’, the exploring duo who died somewhere in the wilderness and gave birth to a legend. In August 1860, they set out from Melbourne on the largest-ever overland expedition, officially called the Victorian Exploring Expedition (VEE). Its objective was to explore and map the Aboriginal territories north of Cooper’s Creek. By April 1861, Burke, Wills and a young soldier named John King were trapped on Cooper’s Creek—and it was here that Burke and Wills died. The Cooper is a changeable place. Sometimes it is a dry creek bed in the midst of a hot, relentless desert. Sometimes the creek itself is drowned beneath hundreds of

square kilometres of floodwater, which flows across the country in search of the great salt pans of Lake Eyre. The expedition travelled through this area at a time when the Cooper was at its most benevolent. There had been good rains that year. The creek linked a string of shady waterholes, some of them over a kilometre long. There was food everywhere. The waters were alive with fish, mussels and yabbies. The whole region had become a noisy haven for waterbirds— including ducks and pelicans— which had flocked there to breed. The banks of the creek were also home to snakes, lizards, small marsupials, insects and a score of plants. This was the bountiful world that provided tucker to the local Aboriginal tribes: the Dieri,

The route of the expedition from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria. The map (1862) also shows the routes of the explorers John McKinlay and John McDouall Stuart.

Sombre engraving of Burke and Wills (1873), memorialising the duo as fallen colonial heroes.

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the Wangkumara, and the people who feature in this story, the Yandruwandha. These people were thriving in country where Burke and Wills starved to death. It was the fact of their deaths that elevated the pair to the pantheon of white Australian history. They became models of sacrifice and tragedy, of heroism and folly. In the Victorian era, they helped white Australians to face their anxiety that the great deserts of central Australia would never yield to the ambitions of colonial settlement. After all, Burke and Wills had given their lives for an ideal that felt a bit like king and country. Sometime after the Second World War, Burke and Wills began to lose their place as heroes in the nationalist account of Australian history. Their story of struggle and sacrifice was overshadowed by the slaughter and the endurance of Australians at Gallipoli and on the Somme, in New Guinea and on the waters to our north. What’s more, by the 1960s, the story of

In a rainy season, such as the one Burke and Wills encountered, the Cooper flows through a desert festooned with green plants.

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a country defined by the values of the bush legend was becoming obsolete. As the Australian mythos relocated to the suburbs, the explorers—even the successful ones—faded from view. In any case, few Australians had ever really cared about the explorers as individuals. Charles Sturt, John McDouall Stuart, Augustus Charles Gregory, Thomas Mitchell and the rest were of interest, not for who they were, but for where they went—each man reduced to a dotted trail on a textbook map of Australia. In truth, each of these explorers was an imposing individual. Each man’s beliefs, values and prejudices shaped the ways in which he experienced and represented the country through which he travelled. William Wills was an astonishingly brave and intelligent young man. From the very start of the expedition, he conscientiously maintained the official field books in which he logged the team’s daily progress and recorded his own

A broadsheet (a one-page item) published in tribute to Burke (left) and Wills (right). King is pictured at the top. The bottom of the page features Alfred Howitt’s rescue party burying Burke at Cooper’s Creek.

WILLS’ DIARY

T h u r s d ay M ay 9 t h 1 8 6 1

survey data and meteorological observations. In fact, he was doing Burke’s job as well as his own. It was a matter of common practice that the chief explorer was responsible for maintaining a daily journal, just as a maritime captain was responsible for his ship’s log. The Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the failure of this expedition described this task as one of the leader’s ‘essential’ responsibilities, but it was a task that Burke singularly failed to discharge.1 His cursory account of the entire mission consists of just 850 words.

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William Wills’ diary is a meticulous record of the events that led to his death. It is his stoic and clear-eyed account of nine gruelling, and sometimes transcendent, weeks trapped in an alien land. It is also Wills’ record of his encounters with the owners of that land—the Yandruwandha—who reached out to the lost men, offering them food and shelter. On Thursday, 9 May, Wills wrote: Parted from my friends the Blacks at h7 m30 and started for Camp No 9 2

In what sense did the Yandruwandha people become Wills’ friends? Several of the explorers—notably Major Thomas Mitchell and Edward Eyre—developed enormous respect for the Aboriginal people. But even by those explorers’ standards, Wills’ use of the word ‘friends’ is startling. It suggests that this earnest young surveyor had entered into a sympathetic relationship with people whom many of his fellow settlers reviled as ‘murdering savages’. After Wills died, his grieving and enraged father, Dr William

Wills, assembled the explorer’s notebooks and letters into an impressive book, which he called A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria.3 That publication was the first draft of the Burke and Wills legend and has shaped historical accounts ever since. Partly at Dr Wills’ urging, the government of the colony of Victoria held a Royal Commission in 1862 ‘to enquire and report upon the circumstances connected with the sufferings and death of Robert O’Hara Burke and William John Wills’.4 The commissioners interviewed most of the people connected with the expedition, including John King. The government published the entire record of evidence, including a transcript of this diary. Wills commenced the last of his diaries with authority and with a sense of occasion. His syntax in the opening paragraph is complex—and a little bit grand. He was also analysing

his predicament. In his view, the members of the depot party at Cooper’s Creek had not fulfilled their duty. They had abandoned their post, and they had left behind inadequate provisions. In fact, the depot party had retreated to the Menindee Lakes on the banks of the Darling River: they had returned to the white side of the frontier, leaving the explorers stranded. But Burke had a solution. He, Wills and King would head south-west, following a route described by the explorer Augustus Gregory, which supposedly led to a sheep station at a place called Mount Hopeless. From there, they could easily obtain transport to Adelaide. Wills opposed this course of action, but, here, in his official record, he gives no hint of his opposition. The entry bears the chief hallmark of Wills’ relationship with Burke—an attitude of utter loyalty—a loyalty that was about to undergo its most challenging test.

The entry ends with an Aboriginal wordlist. He wrote it several days later and presumably placed it near the front of the book so that it would be easy to find. The first word is ‘Napa’—water.5 Wills also recorded the word ‘Nardu’ (at this stage he believed it meant bread) and three kinds of fish—maybe ‘Nora’ (that one is hard to read), and ‘Cawilchi’ and ‘Cupi’. He mentions the latter of these two fish again on 7 May. These are Wills’ attempts to learn the words of the Yandruwandha, but his struggle to enter into Yandruwandha knowledge ultimately failed— as did the party’s bid to reach Mount Hopeless.

Dr Wills edited his son’s diaries and letters and published them, with a commentary, under the title A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia (1863).

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WILLS’ DIARY

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April 1861 Journal of Trip from C o o p e r C r e e k t owa r d s A d e l a i d e

The advance party of the V.E.E., consisting of Burke, Wills, and King (Gray being dead), having returned from Carpentaria, on the 21st April, 1861, in an exhausted and weak state, and finding that the depot party left at Cooper’s Creek had started for the Darling with their horses and camels fresh and in good condition, deemed it useless to attempt to overtake them, having only two camels, both done up, and being so weak themselves as to be unable to walk more than four or five miles a day. Finding also that the provisions left at the depot for them would scarcely take them to Menindie, they started down Cooper’s Creek for Adelaide, via Mount Hopeless, on the morning of 23rd April, 1861, intending to follow as nearly WILLS’ LAST DIARY as possible, the route taken by Gregory. By so doing they hoped In 1909, the National Library of Australia acquired William Wills’ to be able to recruit themselves final diary, from 23 April to 28 June 1861, along with the diary kept and the camels whilst sauntering by Robert O’Hara Burke from 16 December 1860 to 20 January 1861. slowly down the Creek, and to Both diaries were purchased for £25 from Mrs Grace Gavan Duffy, the have sufficient provisions left to only surviving child of the original transcriber of the diaries, William take them comfortably, or at least Henry Archer. As Registrar General of Victoria, Archer compiled the without risk, to some station in original transcript in 1861. The Library also holds the papers of John South Australia. King, including his brief, fragmentary diary (written in the form of a retrospective account) of the trek to the Gulf of Carpentaria. King’s journal and papers were purchased in 1936 from another source. Wills’ final diary was one of the main pieces of evidence used in the Royal Commission to inquire into the deaths of Burke and Wills. He wrote the diary in a surveyor’s field notebook with tables already printed for latitude, longitude and meteorological observations. The diary begins at the back of the notebook and works forward. Wills had previously used the front of the notebook to record weather data covering the period of February and March 1861. Wills, or someone else, had drawn fish and other items on the blank facing pages, and these drawings now appear superimposed or sub-imposed on the text. The diary is written in pencil and is very faint. The paper is stained and has been exposed to the elements. 7

Wills’ Aboriginal friends abandoned him, and it became clear that nardoo, the food on which Burke and Wills had become utterly dependent, was killing them. Despite the gravity of the situation, Wills’ final diary entries are remarkably lucid and intelligible. He encourages Burke and King to conduct a search for the Yandruwandha people, in the slim hope that they might provide a lifeline. In his last diary entry, Wills candidly sums up his own chances of survival:

Wills believed that the treachery and failings of others had brought him to this wretched and pointless end. He also believed that he had done his duty. The diary provides an insight into an intense period during which relationships were tested, new relationships explored, and, ultimately, matters of life and death decided. The diary is informed by the ideas and passions that had excited him for the whole of his very short life. It highlights a critical shift in the young man’s

awareness of humanity, in the face of deprivation and alienation, revealed in instances such as his description of a troubled conscience over the treatment of a fellow expedition member, and his eventual change in attitude towards the Yandruwandha people. In order to understand and appreciate the diary more fully, it is necessary first to understand the man.

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nothing now but the greatest good luck can now save any of us and as for myself, I may live four or five days if the weather continues warm. my pulse are at forty-eight & very weak and my legs & arms are nearly skin and bone: I can only look out like Mr. Micawber ‘for something to turn up’6

When the tragedy was played out, the Victorian Exploration Committee presented this brass breastplate to the Yandruwandha. The inscription thanks them for their ‘humanity’.

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Charles Summers’ heroic monument to Burke and Wills (seated), in its current location near St Paul’s Cathedral in central Melbourne (photo: Jon Rhodes, 2001).

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• WILLIAM WILLS • If a man’s destiny is written in his childhood, then Wills’ fate was laid down in a green and pleasant valley on the far side of the world. William John Wills was born in Devon, in the unseasonably mild winter of 1834. His birthplace was Totnes, a picture-book English town that nestles into the valley of the River Dart. We might imagine the boy playing in the town’s ancient square on market day, but, according to his father, Wills’ games were rarely frivolous. Indeed, the boy was so earnest that some of his relations called him Gentleman Jack. But to most of his friends and family, he was known simply as Jack or John.

namesake, Dr William Wills, was a surgeon. He was an energetic man whose greatest delight was to go walking with his eldest son for company. On their rambles through the leafy countryside, Jack quizzed his father about

science, astronomy and the natural world. ‘The pleasure I enjoyed in my son’s society when a boy,’ the doctor recalled, ‘was greater than that which intercourse with many grown men contributed’.7

Jack’s mother, Sarah, was a woman comforted by prayer and preoccupied with maintaining social appearances. His father and

Dr Wills owned a photograph of his son, which formed the basis for many commemorative images, including this lithograph published shortly after his death.

The town of Totnes with its distinctive round castle. This was the green, wet country where Wills acquired his love of natural science.

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On a family trip to the nearby seaside town of Devonport, however, the little boy revealed that his passions were leading him elsewhere. At around ten o’clock on the first morning of the visit, the child went missing from their hotel. After a frantic search, someone found him a few doors down the street, outside a nautical instrument-maker’s shop. The shopkeeper said the boy had been looking into the window for an hour, examining the navigation and meteorological devices as though he understood them. Dr Wills recounts this story

in A Successful Exploration as if it were a sign that the boy was already beginning to chart his own life journey—already imagining the quest that would lead him to fame and a premature grave. Dr Wills’ delight in his son’s skills and enthusiasms increased with every passing year. When Jack was 17—and just out of school—father and son travelled up to London to witness the technological wonders of the Victorian age. The occasion was the Great Exhibition of 1851, staged in Hyde Park’s spectacular Crystal Palace. The doctor would later boast of the ease with which

Jack found his way around the crowded thoroughfares of the capital, and of how he unravelled the mystery of the famous maze at Hampton Court in just ten minutes. It was as if the young man had ‘some instinctive power in matters like these,’ wrote Dr Wills, such as those possessed by ‘horses and carrier-pigeons’.8 Jack was now working in his father’s surgery as his apprentice. The following year, Dr Wills arranged for the young man to observe operations at Guy’s Hospital in London and to take a summer course in practical chemistry at St Bartholomew’s Hospital.9 That must have seemed sufficient to ensure that Jack would dedicate his life to medicine—either in Devon or perhaps in London. But this was an era when Britain was extending

top: Graziers often reported that nature had provided them with ‘a gentlemen’s park’. In fact, the Aboriginal people had tended these parks by clearing them with fire. The Crystal Palace was a vast, modern building constructed of cast iron and plate glass. It was erected in London’s Hyde Park to display the wonders of the Great Exhibition of 1851.

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bottom: Robert Hoddle drew the plans for central Melbourne in 1837. In this sketch, he shows the beginning of settlement on the shores of Port Phillip Bay.

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the power of science and industry across the world. Less than a decade later, Jack would make his name in the service of those ideals—as far from southern England as it was possible to get. Jack was taking his first baby steps when a Government Surveyor named Robert Hoddle visited the banks of the Yarra River—in the lands of the Kulin people on Port Phillip Bay, on the southeast coast of Australia. Here, Hoddle surveyed and pegged

the rectangular allotments of a settlement. His fresh, muddy streets were soon bustling with settlers erecting houses, tending their wooden shops and hatching schemes to make their fortunes. At the centre of all this clatter were Melbourne’s sheepmen—most of them youthful adventurers who had sailed in their thousands across the stormy waters of Bass Strait from the bloody island of Van Diemen’s Land. Melbourne was their frontier supply post.

The real money was to be made up-country, in the Aboriginal grasslands that these graziers— or ‘squatters’—soon began to populate with sheep. These ambitious land-grabbers relied on rumour and mud maps drawn by compatriots to find their way. What official exploration had already been carried out in these Aboriginal territories had been instigated from Sydney. In 1824, the explorers Hamilton Hume and William Hovell had mapped

Busy Collins Street, the premier street of Melbourne, as it was when Wills first saw it. The unmade road was dusty in summer and muddy after rain. On the left, a cart delivers drinking water. On the right is the Baptist church.

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a route from Sydney to Port Phillip. Twelve years later, Major Thomas Mitchell gazed over the lush grasslands to the west of Port Phillip Bay and renamed the region ‘Australia Felix’. Squatters from Melbourne wasted no time in claiming the prime acres of Aboriginal territory throughout the region. In July 1851, their desire for greater control over their destiny was realised when the colony was officially separated from New South Wales and named Victoria. But the squatters’ plans were up-ended by a discovery that few of them welcomed. A prospector identified gold in the fertile hill country north-west of Melbourne. Soon, fortune seekers were crossing the oceans to try their luck. Just one year after the discovery, Dr Wills himself purchased shares in the Melbourne Gold Mining Company and decided that he, Jack and his second son, Tom, should join the exodus to these miraculous diggings. But Jack devised a plan of his own. Realising that

their mother was alarmed at the prospect of being deserted by two of her sons and by her husband, Jack persuaded his father to send him and Tom on ahead. On the voyage out, the brothers took a cheap steerage cabin. Jack was in his element. Now free of the provincial codes of etiquette, he roughed it among the sailors, winning their trust with a stash of tobacco that he had packed for precisely this purpose. He was soon learning the skills of splicing and reefing ropes. He even joined the men as they scrambled aloft in a storm, and lent a hand in taking in the topsails, as the oceans of the wide world rolled beneath him.10 When the two brothers sailed into Port Phillip Bay on 3 January 1853, the harbour was clanking with ships, large and small. It was summer, and the streets of Melbourne were a-chatter with people from all over the world. Jack foresaw that one day these thoroughfares would become the avenues of a noble city, but, for now, the settlement was all crowds and chaos—the streets

spoiled by the ‘wooden buildings they are throwing up’.11 The young Englishman thought that Melbourne was a raw and venal place, and it was dangerous at night. ‘There were some men taken out of the river drowned,’ he wrote home, ‘suspected to have been murdered, and several attempts at robbery’.12 Around this time, he shook off his boyhood name. He would no longer be known as Jack or John—not even by his family. He would enter into his adult life with his adult name: William Wills. Ironically, it was the same as his father’s. He had come of age—but his new-found name marked him, more than ever, as his father’s son. William persuaded Tom that they should abandon Dr Wills’ plan to join the multitudes on the goldfields. Instead, they walked over 300 kilometres north, to the sheep district of Deniliquin. The brothers were soon working as shepherds and living in a rough bark hut beside the Edward River. In colonial Australia, this was

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menial work—often undertaken by convicts, but William delighted in the rural solitude. Since the age of 11, he had demonstrated a skill for shooting birds. Now, as he explained in a letter home, he put his prowess as a bird shooter to good use, and he took up fishing: we have abundance of food; plenty of mutton, and we can get a duck, pigeon, or cockatoo whenever we like, almost without going out of sight of our hut, besides a good supply of fish in the river; Murray cod, which in the Murray are said sometimes to weigh eighty pounds, but in our creeks generally run from two to twelve; also a kind of mussel, and fish like a lobster, not quite so large, but good eating.13 Towards the end of the following year, Dr Wills appeared in the doorway of the boys’ hut. He had travelled from England to reclaim them. He led them back to the bustle of modern life and the goldfields of Ballarat. In the reckless, hard-drinking world of the diggings, miners were

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forever injuring themselves, and the erudite English doctor was soon talking up an excellent trade, but he found that William had lost interest in the practice of medicine. Throughout his childhood, William had watched his gregarious father at work and he had come to a hard judgement: there was too much guesswork in the business of diagnosis, and too much theatre in the role of doctor. What he wanted was exactitude. By now, the young man had decided that he would travel far from the comforts of British civilisation. He began to look around for an opportunity to join a party to explore, as he put it, ‘the interior of the country’.14 When Mrs Wills—back home in the village with the younger children—heard of his ambition, she was filled with dread. She had heard tales of people starving to death in that terrible wilderness. William wrote home rebuking her maternal fears: ‘If every one had such ideas we should have no one going to sea for fear of being drowned,’ he told her, ‘no

travellers by railway for fear the engine should burst; and all would live in the open air for fear of the houses falling in’.15 William was equally impatient with her faith in the God of the Book of Common Prayer. Mathematics, in particular algebra and the work of Euclid, he told her, were ‘the best studies young people can undertake, for they are the only things we can depend on as true … Christian and Heathen, Mahometan and Mormon, no matter what their religious faith may be, agree in mathematics’.16 William began an apprenticeship in the Ballarat office of the Government Surveyor. He soon qualified and was given charge of a team whose job it was to be ‘in the bush marking out land for sale, or laying down unknown parts’.17 On Saturday, 10 April 1858, he was resting from arduous survey work in what is now the wheatbelt of central Victoria. He took time to write to his second brother, Charley, urging him to come to Australia and make his fortune, instead of working for

40 or 50 pounds a year at home, ‘out of which you can save very little’.18 William used the letter to set out his fundamental values. Never waste a minute, he told his brother. He instructed Charley to study the subjects that interested him most, but advised that if he had any love of truth, he should study the sciences, particularly astronomy and mathematics.

knowledge,’ William counselled his brother, ‘especially in scientific matters. It is a sin that certain persons we know have been guilty of. The first step is to learn your own ignorance, and if ever you feel inclined to make a display, you may be sure that you have as yet learned nothing’.20 In fact, William was as much a moralist as either of his parents.

William enclosed 3 pounds, telling Charley to buy several books about mathematics and science for himself and their sisters. High on his list was Samuel Neil’s recent history of Western philosophy, The Art of Reasoning (1853). ‘I know few things more disagreeable,’ he told Charley, ‘than to argue, or even converse with a man who has no idea of inductive and deductive philosophy’.19 In his many letters, William wrote like an intense undergraduate who had found his teachers and his courses of study in the world around him. Along the way, he was forging a code of conduct that distinguished him from his forthright and garrulous father. ‘Never try to show off your

He made this clear in a grudging letter he wrote to his mother that same day. She had complained that his letters to her were too brief, but, he demanded, how could he write when she seemed so preoccupied with provincial snobbery? You talk about high and low people; I presume you use those words in a very different sense to that in which I understand them. I consider nothing low but ignorance, vice, and meanness, characteristics generally found where the animal propensities predominate over the higher sentiments.21

It was his fondest wish that his mother and his siblings break free of their provincial self-regard and join him in the colonies, just as soon as the girls had finished school. ‘This country is undergoing great changes for the better,’ he assured her. ‘Now the rush to the diggings is over, people are beginning to live like civilized human beings.’22 In November 1858, William Wills accepted a post that, as

The population of Melbourne grew rapidly, thanks to the gold rush. These gold seekers built themselves a typical ‘bark hut’.

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it turned out, was to ensure his place in the fatal expedition. He became assistant to a handsome young Bavarian named Professor Georg Neumayer. Neumayer was an adventurous, well-travelled scientist of a kind that flourished in the nineteenth century. On Melbourne’s Flagstaff Hill, he had created the grandly named Observatory for Geophysics, Magnetism and Nautical Science, usually known simply as the Magnetic Observatory. Neumayer liked nothing better than to take long trips up-country to record variations in the earth’s magnetic field. William shared these enthusiasms, and, early in 1859, he moved into a room at the observatory alongside the man who had become his patron.

in spectacular lightshows across the world.23 Neumayer believed that the auroras were caused by surges in the earth’s magnetic field interacting with some kind of electrical emission from the sun. If that hypothesis was correct (as it was), then it seemed likely that the lights would be visible simultaneously at the northern and southern extremes of the planet. Two weeks after the spectacle, William wrote to Charley, back home in Devon, begging him to send any reports of the future auroras, paying particular attention to the time the display began. In so doing, said William, ‘you will be rendering a much greater service to the science of magnetism than you can imagine’.24

In late August that year, scientists throughout the West became fascinated by the auroras—the so-called northern and southern lights, which normally occur near the polar regions. These glowing curtains in the night sky captured public interest when the largest solar storm ever recorded resulted

So, when Mrs Wills wrote to William about a display of the northern lights she had seen in Devon, William at last had a topic worthy of attention. ‘Your remarks about the aurora borealis of the 12th of October were very interesting and valuable,’ he told her.

top: In 1858, Ludwig Becker made this sketch to record a comet in the skies above the Magnetic Observatory.

bottom: Wills shared his fellow scientists’ fascination with the northern and southern lights. This manifestation of the southern lights occurred in Melbourne on 2 September 1859.

We knew that there was an aurora there, but of course could not tell where it was visible. You little thought that while you were looking at the vibrations of those beautiful streamers of red and white light, I was watching sympathetic oscillations of little steal magnets, which we suspended by silk threads, in the underground magnetic house ... The magnets were sometimes moving about so rapidly that I could scarcely read them; and although the aurora was with you nearly at an end probably about ten o’clock, yet the magnets did not resume their normal position for nearly twenty-four hours after.25 Neumayer was a member of the Philosophical Institute of Victoria and was an enthusiastic supporter of the scheme to mount a scientific expedition into inland Australia. He was determined to have Wills included in the party—and Wills was determined to go.

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• BACKGROUND of the EXPEDITION •

The colony of Victoria was glowing with ambition and optimism. Gold fuelled the settlers’ greed and their penchant for reckless living, but the young, wealthy society was also able to sustain a privileged professional class; some of its members were determined to contribute to the civic culture of their new-found home. In the winter of 1855,

a group of colonial gentlemen founded a club called the Philosophical Institute of Victoria. One of its members, Dr David Wilkie, moved that the institute should mount an expedition to traverse the unknown parts of the continent—from eastern Australia to the far western coast—but his proposal was scarcely heard in the clamour of the busy settlement.

Most Melburnians were in love with the sheer audacity of their achievement: in just two decades, these settlers had transformed an Aboriginal forest into a fine British city. The place had been settled by sheep farmers from Van Diemen’s Land who had headed up-country with their flocks and their convict shepherds and had taken their chances. They had no need of

A panorama of Melbourne as seen from the top of Parliament House in 1863. This was a town growing rich on gold.

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WILLS’ DIARY

T u e s d ay A p r i l 2 3 r d 1 8 6 1

Having collected together all the odds & ends that seemed likely to be of use to us in addition to provisions left in the plant we started at h9 m15am keeping down the southern bank of the creek; we only went about five miles and camped at h11 m30 on a billibong where the feed was pretty good. we find the change of diet already making a great improvement in our spirits & strength.

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COOPER'S CREEK

The creek Wills mentions in his diary is Cooper’s Creek. The name Cooper’s ‘Creek’ is a bit of a misnomer. Charles Sturt gave the river the name in 1845 when he was exploring the region during the dry season and water levels were low, in honour of Chief Justice of South Australia Charles Cooper. At a length of 1,300 kilometres, it is the second largest river system in Australia. Beginning just west of the Great Dividing Range, where the Thomson and Barcoo rivers come together, the Cooper expands into a myriad of interconnected channels as it reaches the central desert regions, which today form part of the Channel Country. In times of flood, the main channel can extend to 40 kilometres wide. More typically, however, the area is dry and inhospitable. Historical references to Cooper’s Creek include an apostrophe, which has been retained in this book. However, under guidelines made by the Australian Geographical Names Board in 1966, possessive apostrophes have been eliminated from geographic place names. Today, the river is known as Cooper Creek.

explorers. As the Melbourne Herald put it, the colony was ‘all explored’.26 Inside the institute, however, Wilkie’s plan stirred the passions of a valiant few. By and large, these enthusiasts were urban gentlemen—scientists, politicians and professionals. Their president was the colony’s energetic conservative chief justice, Sir William Stawell. The project caught his fancy: it was grand, worthy and public spirited. In 1857, the Philosophical Institute formed an Exploration Committee, with the aim of further investigating the possibility of an exploring expedition. The venture developed an intriguing dimension on 1 September 1858, when The Argus newspaper announced that an unnamed gentleman had made a donation of £1,000 for the project. He was, in fact, a self-made Irishman named Ambrose Kyte, and he had imposed one condition on his gift: he would pay after £2,000 had been raised by public subscription.27 The editor of The Argus newspaper, Edward Wilson,

attempted to stir Melburnians to support the scheme. He asked them to imagine the day when the great mystery of the inland was finally solved—the day when a ‘ghastly blank will no longer stare us in the face’.28 But Melburnians remained sceptical. As money trickled in from supporters, the institute devised a new objective—the exploration of the interior from a base camp at Cooper’s Creek—perhaps linked to the much-talked-of scheme to open up a route for an international telegraph line from Java to Europe. The committee

sounded out the seasoned explorer Augustus Gregory, but he thought the whole venture was misconceived, warning that it was unlikely to discover any worthwhile grazing land north of Cooper’s Creek. In any case, he said, the territory they were talking about lay in Adelaide’s region of influence. He was unable to see how the venture could possibly benefit Victoria.29 As it happened, the God-fearing folk of Adelaide had plans of their own. Unlike Melbourne, Adelaide had neither gold nor ready access to prime grazing country, and so the settlers there were enthusiastic supporters of exploration. In their isolation, the citizens of Adelaide understood the benefits that would flow from plans to build a telegraph link between a major Australian settlement and the rest of the world. They were determined that the telegraph line should run from the northern coast, through the heart of the continent to Adelaide. Their champion in this project was a skilled bushman named John McDouall Stuart, who had

Burke’s nemesis, the South Australian explorer John McDouall Stuart, crossed Australia in 1862, establishing the route for the Overland Telegraph Line.

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In Burke’s mind, he and the South Australian explorer John McDouall Stuart were racing against each other to cross the continent. The press fanned that idea.

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a knack for finding Aboriginal waterholes in the arid interior. When the South Australian Government offered a reward of £2,000 to the first party to cross the continent to the northern coast, Stuart was Adelaide’s favourite. In contrast with the clear objective of South Australia’s expedition, the purpose of the Victorian Exploring Expedition was vague and confused. Perhaps reflecting the arbitrary way the expedition itself was organised, the official instructions were sent to the leader a month after

the group had departed.30 The directive was simply to explore the interior of Australia, ‘reporting on the character of the country east and west of the Darling’ and ‘examining the country on either side of your route’.31 In exploring the area between Cooper’s Creek and Leichhardt’s track, the committee stipulated that the group should avoid ‘as far as practicable, Sturt’s route on the west, and Gregory’s, down the Victoria, on the east’.32 Though the instructions on what to look for were sketchy, the instructions on what to avoid were crystal clear.

The Royal Society of Victoria’s building was opened in 1859. This is where the committee met, where the expedition members signed on, and where the bodies of Burke and Wills were destined to lie in state.

In January 1860, the Philosophical Institute celebrated a change of name. By royal charter, it was decreed to be a Royal Society, and its members now met in a fine, new two-storey building, which the society still occupies, at the eastern end of La Trobe Street in central Melbourne. Its reformed Exploration Committee was chaired by the distinguished botanist Ferdinand Mueller— one of only two members of the committee with firsthand experience of Australian exploration. The gentlemen

The brilliant botanist Ferdinand Mueller was an experienced explorer in his own right. To him, the expedition was primarily a scientific venture.

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and name plants and animals. He was expected to navigate accurately, draw reliable maps and keep a detailed, descriptive journal—both for the information of the government or his employers, and, sometimes, for the edification of the general public.

who planned this ambitious undertaking each had their own motives. Some hungered after scientific knowledge, some wanted to bring glory to their colony, and some saw an opportunity to make a fortune—hoping to get inside knowledge on the location of new grazing lands. But all were certain of one thing: they were gentlemen. The Royal Society of Victoria began to look for a man who had the necessary qualities to lead their great expedition. The conventions of the job were well established. An exploring expedition was a quasi-military operation. The commander was known as an ‘explorer’. Any professionals who were part of the expedition were known as ‘officers’. And the men who cared for the horses and stock, dragged the survey chains and established the camp each night were treated as if they were army privates. So omnipotent were these explorers, they were sometimes spoken of as if they had achieved their goals entirely on their own, as if the other men on the party were nothing more than

extensions of the explorer’s will. The best of the explorers—such as Africa’s Mungo Park, America’s Lewis and Clark, and Australia’s Thomas Mitchell—were men of astonishing accomplishment. They had the courage to venture into native territory, the diplomatic skills to negotiate with Indigenous people and to persuade some of them to act as guides. Many of the explorers could paint projections, landscapes, plants, animals and people. Most had a strong understanding of geology, hydrology and soil types. A competent explorer could describe

The expedition was gathering momentum. It was taking on the elements of spectacle and generating patriotic talk for which there is always an audience. At last, the committee managed to raise the necessary £2,000 by public subscription, and it persuaded the government to provide £6,000 more. The committee advertised for a leader, but serious applicants were few. The favourite for the job was an experienced explorer who resided in South Australia named Peter Warburton. Warburton indicated that he was interested, but he was a gentleman: he refused to demean himself by responding to a public advertisement. The committee debated, agonised and debated again. Some, including the prudent Mueller, continued to

The painter William Strutt made detailed sketches of the expedition in Royal Park, and later produced this portrait of a well-groomed Burke.

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court Warburton. Others backed a Prussian soldier of fortune named Gustavus Ferdinand von Tempsky. (He had meted out colonial justice to American ‘Indians’, but had no experience of desert exploration.) Meanwhile, a prominent businessman and landowner by the name of John Bruce, who was well connected with the Royal Society, wined and dined committee members, urging them to appoint his friend Robert Burke.33 Burke was what upper-class men still refer to as ‘clubbable’—a chap who is good company, can

hold his drink and knows how to conduct himself in a gentlemen’s club. Indeed, he was so eligible that he was welcomed—with a hearty clap on the back— into the inner sanctum of the Melbourne establishment, the Melbourne Club, where he soon gained a manly reputation as an entertaining drinking companion and card player. As the colonial historian Henry Gyles Turner put it, Burke ‘was accounted by all who knew him as a fine dashing,

brave and probably reckless Irishman, full of the adventurous spirit belonging to vigorous health and the prime of life’.34 On 20 June 1860, in the absence of Mueller and two other Warburton supporters, the committee voted for Burke. He had no experience working with Aboriginal people; he had no cartographic skills; he was disinclined to write; and he had no knowledge of geology or biology.35 According to the splendidly named Falconer Larkworthy, a bank manager in Beechworth who purchased the

Samuel Thomas Gill documented life in Victoria in the 1850s, including this scene of gold diggers enjoying their new-found wealth.

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wooden cottage in which Burke lived, Burke was unable to find his way through the bush, even when the path was well marked. ‘He was,’ declared Mr Larkworthy, ‘in no sense a bushman’.36 All that was to become tragically clear. With the funds secured, and recruitment for the expedition in full swing, the committee set about organising provisions and equipment for the journey. In 1858, an India-hand named George Landells had written a letter to the Victorian Government extolling the virtues of camels for travel in arid Australia. The government’s Board of Science was impressed. Early in 1860, Landells arrived in India with instructions to buy 24 camels.37 Hampered by the military unrest, he pressed on to Afghanistan. By the time he arrived in the port city of Karachi (in modern-day Pakistan), he had purchased the camels and engaged several Indian and Afghan camel handlers. He had also recruited three Europeans, including an 18-year-old Irishman named John King, who would make the final

leg of the journey with Burke and Wills. On 14 June, the ship Chinsurah docked at Melbourne, where the intrepid Landells was welcomed by ecstatic crowds. As one journalist observed, it seemed as though ‘all Melbourne had turned out’ to gaze at the cavalcade from the mysterious East.38 The police cleared a path through the multitudes, as Landells—heavily armed and gorgeously attired in Oriental dress—rode grandly at the head of a line of 25 camels (the extra camel was a calf that Landells had bought for himself as a pet). Riding atop eight of the camels were exotic men from the eastern margins of the Empire, dressed in red and white robes and wearing turbans. Landells’ triumphal progress terminated two hours later in Spring Street, where the camels were quartered in the horse stables at Parliament House.39 In fact, the camels were to prove an expensive addition to an already overpriced venture. Landells had purchased all 25 of the beasts for just £302.

In the weeks before the expedition departed, the imported camels and their Middle Eastern and Indian handlers became a familiar sight in Melbourne. William Strutt drew several studies.

But by the time the expedition set out, the camels had cost £5,497 in transport, fodder and accommodation.40 The committee appointed an expeditionary team of 22 men, including officers, assistants, sepoys and wagon drivers. When the expedition reached Menindee, over half of the men had been dismissed by Burke, and two of the officers had resigned. Burke managed to appoint another eight men along the way, but his arbitrary approach to hiring and firing would have calamitous consequences for the expedition.



The Royal Society’s plans were the talk of Melbourne. In July 1860, the society advertised for men to join the party.

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•

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•KEY MEMBERS of the EXPEDITION • ROBERT O’HARA BURKE LEADER OF THE EXPEDITION (C. 1820–1861)

Robert O’Hara Burke was born into the Anglo-Irish gentry of County Galway. He trained as a cavalry officer, first at the Royal Military Academy in London, then in Belgium, and served with the famous Hungarian hussars. He was a man’s man—a barrelchested, Protestant Irishman who liked to brag about his feats of strength and sporting prowess. He was the sort of fellow who would share an enormous lunch and then challenge his companions to a running race. Burke migrated to Australia in 1853, where he occupied various positions with the Victoria Police.

William Strutt represents Burke as a noble, heroic figure.

Three years later, after the death of his younger brother James Thomas in the Crimean War, Burke returned to England to enlist; however, by the time he reached Liverpool in June 1856, the war had ended. He subsequently returned to Victoria. In 1858, Burke became Superintendent of Police in the Castlemaine district, where his house became a centre for boisterous parties and poker games. Around this time, a pretty 16-year-old singer and actress named Julia Matthews was touring the Victorian goldfields with a light opera company.

By the 1880s, the four explorers who had crossed the continent from south to north were venerated as national heroes, surrounded by the laurels of victory.

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In autumn of that year, the company’s high-spirited show arrived at the town of Beechworth for a three-week season. The girl’s cheeky performances captivated the local Police Superintendent, Robert O’Hara Burke. The hearty Irishman bought a ticket to every performance and sat beaming up at the girl from the front row of the stalls. After her final performance, he made his way backstage and asked Julia to marry him. She was a Catholic; he was a Protestant. She was in her teens; he was a middle-aged man. She turned him down, but he continued to pursue her, galloping his horse across rural Victoria to catch the girl’s every performance. She refused to be swayed. The heartbroken Burke installed a

piano in the police residence, and, much to the dismay of his neighbours, he began giving melancholy renditions—at the top of his voice—of the songs he had heard her sing. The following year, Burke saw Julia Matthews again when she was starring in a burlesque at Melbourne’s glittering Princess Theatre. After the performance, Burke presented himself backstage. Again he proposed. Again she refused. Among Burke’s associates in Castlemaine was a land speculator named John Bruce, who was impressed by Burke’s ‘manliness of character’. They were certainly close: during an industrial dispute, Burke had led a police assault on

Bruce’s own aggrieved workers. Melbourne was built by men like Bruce—he was well connected at the Royal Society and he instantly saw that he might stand to gain if his own man was leading the discovery of new territories to the north.41 Burke became determined to lead the Royal Society’s expedition to the north, perhaps in a final attempt to impress Julia Matthews. Despite the fact that Burke had no experience in exploration, and little in the way of bush skills, he was appointed leader of the expedition. His selection is thought to have had more to do with personal links within the Establishment (of which he had many) than with aptitude.

Julia Matthews’ cheeky burlesque performances captivated the local police superintendent Robert O’Hara Burke.

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GEORGE LANDELLS SECOND-IN-COMMAND AND OFFICER IN CHARGE OF CAMELS (1825–1871)

George James Landells was born in Barbados, in 1825. During his childhood, Landells spent time with his family in Barbados, Jamaica, Gambia and England, before travelling to India in 1842. Here, he is thought to have fought in the Anglo-Afghan War and other local conflicts. In 1856, Landells travelled to Australia and worked for the East India Company, exporting horses to India. Landells strongly advocated the use of camels for outback expeditions, citing their unique suitability to the Australian On the day of the departure, Strutt sketched Landells patting a small dog.

landscape and conditions. In 1858, he was commissioned by the Victorian Government to purchase camels from India to be used for exploration and breeding. Landells was appointed to the expedition as Officer in Charge of Camels. His esteemed reputation with the general public and experience in camel handling earned him the additional designation of second-in-charge—though he demanded and received a salary higher than that of Burke.

WILLIAM JOHN WILLS THIRD-IN-COMMAND, SURVEYOR AND ASTRONOMER (1834–1861)

William Wills was born in Totnes, Devon, England in 1834. He was home-schooled and then attended St Andrew’s Grammar School at Ashburton. In 1852, Wills migrated to Australia with his younger brother Thomas, arriving in Port Phillip Bay in 1853. The brothers found work as shepherds at the Royal Bank Station at Deniliquin. At the end of 1855,

Wills began an apprenticeship in the Ballarat office of the Government Surveyor. He then became an assistant, in November 1858, at Melbourne’s Flagstaff Observatory under Professor Georg Neumayer. Neumayer recommended that Wills be appointed to the expedition as one of the three scientific officers.

Lithograph portrait of William Wills.

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DR HERMANN BECKLER MEDICAL OFFICER AND BOTANIST (1828–1914)

Hermann Beckler was born in Höchstadt, Bavaria, in 1828. He studied medicine at Munich University, before travelling to Australia in 1856. Beckler spent time attempting to launch his medical career, first in Ipswich, then in Warwick and Tenterfield, during which time he studied and acquired a passion for botany. After botanising extensively throughout southern Queensland and New South Wales, Beckler arrived in Melbourne in 1859. For the next ten months he collected botanical specimens in southeastern Australia for the National Herbarium of Victoria, under the sponsorship of Ferdinand Mueller, who was then Government Botanist for Victoria.

Victorian Exploring Expedition. His mentor, Mueller, encouraged his application and personally recommended Beckler to Burke. A month later, Beckler was successfully appointed to the expedition. Although Beckler understood that he was the party’s chief medical officer, he joined because it was an astounding opportunity to visit the wild inland of Australia and to collect plants that were new to Western science. And he certainly succeeded in carrying out this task: his beautifully mounted specimens are still kept in secure metal cabinets at the Melbourne Herbarium, where he sent them 150 years ago.

In June 1860, Beckler responded to The Argus advertisement for a medical officer for the

Two of the 900 specimens, representing 420 species of plants, which Beckler collected and sent back to the herbarium in Melbourne: (top) Rhodanthe moschata and (bottom) Olearia muelleri, named after Ferdinand Mueller.

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DR LUDWIG BECKER A R T I S T A N D N AT U R A L I S T (C. 1808–1861)

Ludwig Becker was born in Offenbach-am-Main, Germany, in 1808. He studied at the Ludwig Georg Gymnasium, a well-known preparatory school in Darmstadt, where he first studied painting. During this time, he provided illustrations for German naturalist Johann Kaup’s book Gallerie der Amphibien, before going on to study lithography under artist Peter Vogel at the Städelesche Institute.

The talented and long-suffering Dr Becker, shortly before the expedition departed.

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After the failed German liberal revolutions of 1848–1849, Becker left Germany and headed for Australia. He arrived in Tasmania in 1851, where he made a living painting, sketching and cultivating his interest in the natural sciences. After a few months, he moved to Victoria and tried his hand at digging in the Victorian goldfields.

During this time, he produced a collection of sketches which were shown in an exhibition in Melbourne in 1854, earning him widespread critical acclaim. Between 1856 and 1859, he became a member of both the Victorian Society of Fine Arts and the Philosophical Institute of Victoria. With his sound reputation, Becker was appointed to the expedition as Artist and Naturalist. At 51, he was the oldest member of the expedition party, but his age did not curb his enthusiasm. As a sublimely talented painter and naturalist, it was his destiny to die, in terrible pain, beside a waterhole in the desert, leaving behind a series of exquisite watercolours which he painted during the trip.

WILLIAM WRIGHT THIRD-IN-COMMAND FROM MENINDEE AND IN CHARGE OF THE MENINDEE DEPOT

Little is known of William Wright. At the time of his appointment as third-in-command from Menindee, Wright was working as the manager of the Menindee Station—a job he had held for three years. Prior to this, Wright spent time on Captain James Crawford’s prospecting expedition to the Barrier Range. He is thought to have lived in Adelaide

and had a wife and family, who were in Menindee at the time of the expedition. After the party had reached Menindee, Wright, being familiar with the country, volunteered to guide the party to Torowotto. He then returned to Menindee, where he was given charge of the Menindee depot.

Wright’s appointment was never officially confirmed by the committee. The specific purpose of his position, as well as his instructions, were vague, and this had a disastrous effect on the outcome of the expedition.

CHARLES FERGUSON FOREMAN (1832–1925)

Charles Ferguson was born in Ohio, America, in 1832. At the age of 17, he left home with ‘gold fever’ and embarked on a long and treacherous journey to California. Gold had been discovered on the American River in 1848, sparking a massive gold rush to the area, and Ferguson was determined to be part of it. He spent two years in the goldfields, before hearing news that gold had been discovered in Australia. Ever the

intrepid adventurer, Ferguson left the goldfields of California, bound for Melbourne, where he arrived in 1851. Over the following eight years, he worked at diggings in Ballarat, Bendigo, Ovens, Beechworth and McIvor, before travelling widely as a performing horse tamer. Ferguson did not apply to the commission for a place on the expedition. The position of

foreman was offered to him in a letter written by Dr Macadam, Secretary of the Royal Society. Ferguson eagerly accepted. Ferguson was a seasoned adventurer, and a diligent worker. He had a difficult relationship with Burke and was dismissed by the leader at Balranald after a dispute over wages. Ferguson later successfully sued the Exploration Committee for wrongful dismissal.

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WILLIAM BRAHE ASSISTANT—IN CHARGE OF THE DEPOT PARTY (1835–1912)

William Brahe was born in Pederborn, Germany, in 1835. He travelled to Australia in 1852, where he worked in various capacities, including carrier and digger on the Victorian goldfields. After working as a stockkeeper in Glenormiston during 1854, Brahe took a number of stock-hand positions in Beechworth, where he gained experience travelling with and handling stock. Brahe’s application to the committee included a letter of

recommendation from Wills’ employer and mentor Professor Georg Neumayer, who was a friend of Brahe’s brother Wilhelm. Without Neumayer’s backing— given his influential position on the Exploration Committee—it is unlikely that Brahe would have gained a position on the expedition. Much criticism would later be apportioned to Brahe, both in terms of his inexperience and his actions taken at a crucial time in the expedition.

William Brahe: a man with no idea of the misery and the loss of reputation that awaited him. Portrait by William Strutt (1861).

JOHN KING ASSISTANT (1838–1872)

John King was born in Moy, in County Tyrone, Ireland, in December 1838. He graduated from the Royal Hibernian School in Dublin in 1853, and, at age 14, joined the 70th Regiment of the British Army. Soon after, King was posted to India, where he worked as an assistant teacher, before travelling to the North-West Frontier Province. Here, King served his Queen in the ruthless 44

suppression of an Indian uprising known as the Sepoy Rebellion. During this time, he became gravely ill and was sent to the Rawalpindi District in Pakistan to convalesce. While in Rawalpindi, King met George Landells, who had been sent to India to purchase camels for the expedition. Landells recruited King as supervisor of the sepoys who had been engaged to tend the camels.

C H A R L I E G R AY ASSISTANT (C. 1810–1861)

Charlie Gray was born in Scotland in 1810, where he worked as a sailor. His job brought him to Australia, where he appears to have jumped ship and travelled to the Bendigo goldfields. Here, Gray worked as a digger, before finding employment as an ostler in Swan Hill.

expedition assistant—one of the new recruits to take the place of those he had discharged en route. He was aged around 50 at this time. Gray appears to have led a solitary life. According to an

acquaintance of Gray, ‘he had no friends or relations in the colony’. However, a recommendation from the Superintendent of Police at Swan Hill to the committee would suggest nothing undesirable in his character.43

When the expedition travelled through Swan Hill in September 1860, Burke appointed Gray as

John King: the man who survived, but revealed little about what had taken place.

King was a short, quiet lad— institutionalised to obey orders and to survive unspeakable hardships. In January 1860, the British Army discharged him, noting that he had a ‘fever of a bad type’.42 It must have been fortunate for King when Landells engaged him to supervise the camel handlers on the journey back to Australia.

Charlie Gray: a loner who died a lonely death.

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• MELBOURNE to MENINDEE • The Exploration Committee established a depot in the greenery of Melbourne’s Royal Park, on the northern edge of the town, a short distance from the new university. Here, the men erected tents and huts, which were soon overflowing with gear. This site was under the charge of a tough 28-year-old veteran of the Californian and Ballarat goldfields, an American named Charles Ferguson. Under his direction, horses were purchased and the wagons were fitted up in the government prison factory. Prisoners also made the harnesses, clothes and boots for the expedition, and shod the horses. From the outset, the men who had been appointed as Ferguson’s expedition staff did not impress. They were willing, but they were green. Most of them

had been brought up as ‘gentlemen’ and knew nothing of the frontier or of hard work. However, Ferguson was impressed by William Wills, who, he later said, had the bush skills of a native-born colonist—a man who might have ‘made his mark in the world’.44

The expedition sets out from Royal Park. The image at the bottom is prophetic: the expedition was weighed down with provisions.

In Nicholas Chevalier’s painting of the departure, Burke waves from his prancing horse. Landells leads the camels. The top-hatted gentlemen of Melbourne are on the right. Perhaps the painter is gently mocking their self-importance: they keep themselves separate from the hoi polloi.

On Monday, 20 August 1860, Dr Wills, the members of the Exploration Committee, civic leaders and thousands of other Melburnians dressed up in their best clothes and made their way to the depot. A gentle northerly breeze was carrying the first warmth of spring into the wintry

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colony. Inside the park, the crowds were greeted by the sight of horses, camels, busy men, and those tents and huts overflowing with gear. Robert O’Hara Burke and the deputy leader, George Landells, were striding about issuing orders as Ferguson and his team loaded their abundance of gear onto the camels and into the wagons. The expedition numbered 19, including the officers. They were attempting

to pack 20 tonnes of gear, including nearly 1 tonne of flour, sugar, tea, coffee, salt meat, dried fruit, preserved vegetables and lime juice—sufficient to support 19 men, 26 camels and 23 horses for up to two years. The horses and camels themselves required an astonishing assortment of brushes, combs and clippers. There was an emporium of furniture, including an oak and cedar table with oak stools—on which Landells and

Photomechanical prints, such as this one called The Parting Cheer, from an engraving by William Strutt, spread the heroic image to a wider audience.

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Burke would dine each evening. There were also signal flags and rockets, a Chinese gong and an enormous bath. Midday came and went. All was not well. Landells insisted that the burdens for the camels were now too heavy. It was the first opportunity for tension between Landells and Burke. On this occasion, the disagreement was resolved. Landells got his way.

WILLS’ DIARY

F r i d ay J u n e 2 1 s t 1 8 6 1

It is a great consolation at least in this position of ours to know that we we [sic] have done all we could and that our deaths will rather be the result of the mismanagement of others than of any rash acts of our own. had we been come to grief elsewhere we could only have blamed ourselves but here we are returned to Cooper Creek where we had every reason to look for provisions & clothing, and yet we have to die of starvation in spite of the explicit instructions given by Mr. Burke “That the Depôt party should await our return, and the strong recommendation to the Committee that we should be followed up by a party from Mininda.”

PROVISIONS

According to Alfred Howitt, in an address to the Australasian Association of the Advancement of Science in 1907, ‘No expedition ever set out to explore the interior of Australia with such a lavish supply of outfit, equipment, and stores’. The Burke and Wills expedition was devised from its very inception to showcase the wealth and ambition of a new colony. Unfortunately, previous experience suggested that a more refined approach was far more effective. In a letter from seasoned explorer A.C. Gregory to Dr Ferdinand Mueller, President of the Philosophical Institute of Victoria, on the subject of Australian exploration, he cautioned against the inclusion of ‘unnecessary encumbrances’. This letter was read out to members of the Exploration Committee at a meeting in 1859, when the committee was considering Gregory as a candidate to lead the proposed expedition. Gregory declined the offer, and his advice went unheeded. In an ironic twist, it was a lack of provisions that proved fatal for Burke and Wills. 51

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Photograph of the expedition’s camp in Royal Park. Burke is in the centre, wearing his distinctive tall hat.

Departure of the expedition, from The Illustrated London News, 1 February 1862.

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Ferguson and his men loaded the excess onto additional carts that someone procured at this last minute. When the caravan was finally packed, a journalist from the Herald consulted his watch. It was exactly 3.45 pm—less than two hours before sunset. The task of loading the gear had taken an entire day, but still the expedition did not move. It was now time for the official farewell. The members of the Exploration Committee, together with a circle of distinguished citizens of the town, took up a position at the front of the gathering. The mayor climbed onto one of the drays and wished Mr Burke ‘God speed’.45 As the crowd broke into applause, the mayor called for three cheers for Mr Burke, three cheers for Mr Landells, and three for the party itself. Then, all ears were open to Burke. The occasion called for grand words, but Burke was not a man for fancy talk. He was brief. He said that no expedition had ever started under such favourable

circumstances. ‘We shall never do well,’ he concluded, ‘till we justify what you have done in showing what we can do’.46 No-one knew exactly what he meant, but everyone cheered, and then stood still as a photographer froze the moment. Burke mounted his handsome grey horse and instantly became the dashing figure that the public wanted him to be. Landells settled onto the back of his magnificent camel, and, with a mighty creaking of cart springs, a snorting of horses and a baying from the

William Strutt’s portrait of the camel handler Dost Mahomet. He came to Australia from Afghanistan with George Landells and lived out his days here.

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camels, the expedition lurched into motion and began to lumber towards its own tragic conclusion. Burke headed the procession, followed by several packhorses led by some of the assistants. The medical officer and botanist, Dr Hermann Beckler, was there, too. Then came the camels, headed by Landells, with the German painter, Ludwig Becker, and two of the white assistants following close behind. Four camel drivers— Samla, Dost Mahomet, Belooch Khan and Esau Khan—led the remainder of the camels, four and five in hand, loaded with goods. As the main party paraded out of the park, William Wills and Charles Ferguson stayed behind. Wills had held himself apart from the hoopla. Indeed, he had even refused to be photographed. His father already had a photograph of his likeness, he had declared curtly, which would serve perfectly well. Instead, he had been methodically packing three or four carts with the scientific instruments, specimen cases and the navigation tools with which

the Royal Society expected its scientific crew to document the great inland of Australia. Where Burke was playing the role of leader, with his customary swagger and impulsiveness, Wills was already working with quiet diligence to ensure that at least some of the tasks got done properly. Eventually, Wills and the untiring Ferguson finished their work, and led their wagons out of the park. That day established a work pattern that was to characterise the expedition over the weeks that followed—Burke dashing on ahead on horseback while Wills and Ferguson worked later than everyone else, completing the basic tasks of the expedition. Now, at last, they followed Burke, their route taking them past the town’s sewage dump and out onto Sydney Road. As the sun sank over Melbourne, they soon joined the rest of the group at their first camp. It was just 10 kilometres away, in Queen’s Park in suburban Moonee Ponds, where the unfamiliar smell of the camels

had provoked pandemonium among the local horses. Here, Dr Wills saw his son for the last time, taking his leave ‘with great misgiving’.47 That same evening, the doctor found a moment to talk with Burke in private—entrusting his son to the older man’s care, and telling him that ‘If it were in my power, I would even now prevent his going’.48 Dr Wills went on: ‘If you ever happen to want my son’s advice or opinion, you must ask it; for he will not offer it unasked. No matter what course you may adopt, he will follow without remonstrance or murmur’. According to Wills senior, Burke clasped his hand and replied: ‘There is nothing you can say will raise him higher in my estimation than he stands at present; I will do as you desire’. It’s a touching scene, but Wills was now 26, and looking to hold his own as an officer with authority over other men. Neither Charles Ferguson (who was only two years older), nor any of

the other men, had their fathers asserting such control. It was easy for Wills to break free of his mother—she was on the far side of the world—but Dr Wills was omnipresent. Wills was about to embark on a quest in search of self—and Burke was the highspirited man who would take him there. It was as if Wills could not proceed without a father to guide and direct his life, as if Burke became the father who would now command Wills’ loyalty—even unto death. Certainly, loyalty on such a venture was expected. The comparison to a military campaign has already been drawn. But the military comparison only stretched so far. Senior officers could resign from the expedition without risking a court martial or anything like it. Indeed, the idea of unquestioning obedience was completely at odds with the Enlightenment ideals that underpinned colonial science. However, there was no such paradox or contradiction weighing on the mind of Wills. As he embarked on this voyage into the

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BECKER: THE PARTY CROSSING TO TERRICK TERRICK, 29 AUGUST

Becker showed himself riding the second camel, behind Landells. Two days later, Wills wrote to his old teacher, Mr Byerly: Riding on camels is a much more pleasant process than I anticipated, and for my work I find it much better than riding on horseback. The saddles, as you are aware, are double, so I sit on the back portion behind the hump, and pack my instruments in front, I can thus ride on, keeping my journal and making calculations; and need only stop the camel when I want to take any bearings carefully; but the barometers can be read and registered without halting. The animals are very quiet, and easily managed, much more so than horses. WILLS (ED.), A SUCCESSFUL EXPLORATION THROUGH THE INTERIOR OF AUSTRALIA, P. 54

great mystery of inland Australia, he knew, with the passion of a faithful son of the Empire, that Burke had become the captain of his life. It was now icy cold as the party journeyed north from Melbourne. The rain set in, and the men and their gear were soon soaked through. Despite the miserable conditions, the men were keen, but

Ferguson had to supervise them in the most basic tasks, often late into the night—and the pressure began to tell. As the foreman acknowledged years later, his own conduct towards the inexperienced crew was not always perfect ‘in manners, temper or spirit’.49 He also recorded that the cheery Ludwig Becker did all that he could to maintain the company’s spirits—always trying to help out.

Through that arduous August and September, Becker somehow found the time to paint a series of vivid and highly skilled watercolours, including landscapes, portraits and scenes of camp life. Among these is his iconic sketch of the party crossing the grass plains of Terrick Terrick. This looks like a scene from the arid outback. In fact, the party was crossing a pastoral

Ludwig Becker made this sketch of the party crossing the Terrick Terrick Plains, near Bendigo, on 29 August 1860. That’s Burke in the centre.

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run just 60 kilometres north of Bendigo in central Victoria. The party had not yet left Victoria, and Wills was already unspeakably busy. His job was to navigate their course, document the geography, and draw a detailed map of their journey. Wills had set out with an assurance that, despite his official instructions, he would be relieved of these tasks by an assistant surveyor, whom he expected to arrive from Melbourne any day. This assistant would free him to focus on his additional responsibilities. The committee instructed Wills to continue his research into magnetism, recording the ‘variations of the compass ... as often as circumstances permit’.50 At least four times a day, he was to make detailed meteorological observations, and keep an exact register of ‘all remarkable phenomena in meteorology’, including whirlwinds, storms, thunderstorms, mirage and refraction.51 He should record the temperatures of rivers, creeks, lakes and wells—both on the

surface and on the bottom. If he noticed gases rising ‘from the depth’, then he should capture these emissions in small glass bottles. Apparently, he was not expected to sleep, since, at night, he was to make astronomical observations—including detailed studies of meteors and the twinkling of the stars.

men who earned their living by anonymous toil in colonial Australia. Gray was working in the stable at the Lower Murray Inn. Something about Gray’s straightforward manner, his mature vigour, and his easy way with horses must have attracted Burke: he gave him a job on the spot.

When they reached the town of Swan Hill on the Murray River, on 6 September, the expedition was in serious trouble. Burke simply could no longer pay the bills. The overladen wagons kept breaking down—and had cost over £80 in repairs. The wagon drivers were fed up and were demanding more pay, and one of the camel drivers had fallen too ill to continue. Burke discharged him and offloaded three other members of the crew, hiring four replacements. In fact, Burke had sacked several men before the expedition even left Melbourne— and he had not finished.

The great procession swayed and rattled out of Swan Hill. On 15 September, they had advanced just 100 kilometres due north to Balranald, a rough frontier settlement on the lower Murrumbidgee River. Burke was becoming frustrated by the sheer volume of goods that he was forced to drag across the country. At Balranald, he held an auction at which he off-loaded his sugar and lime juice (despite the fact that it was a recognised protection against scurvy), as well as a considerable number of heavy blacksmith’s tools, and some firearms and ammunition.

The new hands included Charlie Gray, one of the thousands of

By now, tensions were building between Burke and key members

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of the party. He fell out with Ferguson and sacked him. He told the painter, Dr Becker; the camel driver, Belooch; and crew members James McIlwaine, Patrick Langan and William Brahe to stay behind. It is clear that he was abandoning them, but he left the five men in Balranald with no clear idea whether this was a temporary or a permanent arrangement. Somehow, Brahe, Belooch and Dr Becker did, in fact, rejoin the expedition.

superintending, arranging and loading the stores, but he was discovering that nothing he did gave Burke satisfaction.52

A week later, the travellers were battling the arid mallee country of south-western New South Wales. The horses struggled to haul the wagons through the deep, loose red sand, while the low branches of the mallee trees tore the wagon covers to shreds. Time and again, the heavy wagons and the horses became bogged in sand, and the men had to dig them out or use other horses to haul them free. It was the same with the camels. George Landells believed that he was taking great pains in

At the end of September, Burke told Beckler and Becker that they would have to abandon their scientific investigations and their artwork. From now on, they would brace their backs and work like the rest of the men. He also announced that the party needed to lighten the loads, and there was to be no more riding. Everyone— except Mr Burke himself and Mr Wills—was required to walk. Burke was particularly impatient with Becker. He regarded the (now) 52-year-old painter as soft, and, as he explained to Landells, he feared that if Becker survived all the way to the northern coast, it would diminish the scale of his own achievement. Burke made the artist load four camels without assistance and then marched him for 32 kilometres through the

The Society’s Proceedings included research about Australian biology and geography. In a colony based on mining and sheep farming, studies of rocks and soil types were of particular interest.

Melbourne’s Punch magazine often ridiculed the Royal Society for its gentlemanly pretensions. Here, Ludwig Becker is mocked as a myopic fat man, perched on a haughty, exotic camel.

desert, carrying his load. He wrote gleefully to his friend Frederick Standish, the Chief Commissioner of the Victorian Police Force, ‘You should have seen old Becker’s face’. Burke went on to write that the first two days of this ordeal had ‘nearly cooked poor Becker, and I think he will not be able to stand it much longer’.53 Landells and Burke were fighting—about the camels, about the route to take, and about the best way to distribute the load. It seemed to Landells that Burke was maliciously risking the camels in order to save his horses. Landells had proved in India that he had a cool head, but the camel man

was unnerved. In fact, one night he told Wills, Becker and Beckler that he was afraid to sleep in the same tent as Burke, because the Irishman would suddenly wake in a panic and brandish a loaded gun. He urged them to turn against Burke, imploring them to see that their impulsive leader would be the ruin of them all.54 Wills was scandalised. Burke was the leader and Wills believed that Landells should follow orders. One night in their desert camp, Burke and Landells argued as never before. According to Landells, Burke raged against him—and then wept and begged him not to leave. The upshot was that Landells resigned on the understanding that he would be paid for the days he had served. As he explained in his letter of resignation, Landells was also angry at Wills: he was outraged that the young man was permitted to ride along with Burke, while everyone else was required to slog along on foot. He was angry, too, that he had been made complicit

in Burke’s tormenting of Ludwig Becker. Burke, in short, was ‘ungentlemanly’.55 Dr Beckler was outraged by the way Burke had spoken to Landells; he sent a letter of resignation to the committee back in Melbourne. He was sick of the conflict, he told them, stating that ‘it takes persons of much more sanguine temperament than myself to believe in a unique and harmonious working together of the party’.56 Shortly after all this tumult, on 14 October, Burke’s contingent lumbered out of the desert at the haven of the great Menindee Lakes near the banks of the Darling River in western New South Wales. Landells and the camels arrived the following day. The travellers were welcomed by Tom Paine, who ran a rudimentary pub. Here, Burke promptly secured a room for himself. The rest of the officers and men, including Wills, made camp further along the Darling. Paine’s hotel stood in the wilderness near a store that

Becker did a painting of the tent he shared with Beckler at Brewarrina. Beckler’s scientific boxes are at the opening of the tent.

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supplied the graziers, who were rapidly moving into this part of the country. There was a rough road running south—the first leg of the 750-kilometre trip back to Melbourne. The regular coach rattled along that distance in under ten days: the Victorian Exploring Expedition had taken two bruising months. Landells left his hard-won camels to their fate and returned to Melbourne, where he discovered that he was being painted as a deserter. Burke and Wills’ version of events was already circulating in the press. But Burke had other matters on his mind. At Menindee, he received news that set his pulse racing.

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• MENINDEE to the DEPOT• Contrary to popular belief, the Royal Society never charged Burke with reaching the Gulf of Carpentaria. Officially, his task was ‘to explore the interior’, filling a blank in the settlers’ knowledge of central Australia. This blank was bounded on the south by the expeditions of Charles Sturt. On the northern edge was the territory explored by Ludwig Leichhardt and the Gregory brothers. It was here at Menindee that Burke read newspaper reports that John McDouall Stuart had fallen short in his attempt to become the first white man to cross the continent from south to north and was now back in the settled districts of South Australia, en route to Adelaide. Burke might not have been a scientist or an intellectual. He might not have

The Aboriginal people knew every inch of this land, but to the explorers, all this was a great unknown. The explorers were filling in the blanks by crossing and mapping the country.

ignited the ardour of the nubile Miss Matthews, but he knew about manly contests of endurance and strength, and his blood was warmed by Victorian notions of military honour. His father had

been a soldier, and, just six years earlier, Burke’s two brothers had served in the Crimea. Indeed, his second brother, Lieutenant James Burke, had been the first British officer killed. The Times

On 28 August, they queued at the Campaspe River at Barnadown, waiting for Edmund Kennedy’s punt to carry them across. The tedious operation took all afternoon.

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had spoken of his ‘gallantry’ and ‘heroic courage’.57 Burke himself had tried to enlist—but had arrived too late to serve. He would not miss out again. Now, at last, glory could be his. He would beat Stuart to the prize. As the men, camels and horses milled about at the Menindee Lakes, Burke looked at his exhausted company and made his most controversial decision yet. He split the team. Here, in Menindee, he left the men who could no longer pull their weight. That group included two of his officers: Dr Beckler, whose resignation had been a defiant gesture, and that infernal chatterbox, Ludwig Becker. Becker had recently been injured when a horse stood on his foot, breaking the nail of his big toe and driving half of the nail deep into his flesh. The poor man could scarcely walk. Burke also left behind horses and the bulk of the stores. Now, he could travel more quickly. On 19 October, Burke headed north for Cooper’s Creek, where

Ludwig Becker’s gentle portrait of their ‘brave and gallant’ guide Dick. Like Wills, Dick was a man who looked at the world with a steady gaze.

the Royal Society had instructed him to establish his base camp. Wills rode alongside him. On foot were William Brahe, John King, Charlie Gray, Dost Mahomet, assistants William Patten and Thomas McDonough, and two local Aboriginal guides known as Dick and Mountain, who had volunteered to take Burke and his party to Torowotto.58 Burke took 15 of the best horses, and 16 camels loaded with gear. As well, there was a new member of the company—a local stockman named William Wright. He was to become the most controversial and most reviled actor in the saga of Burke and Wills. When the tragedy was all played out, the Royal Commission would find that his conduct was ‘reprehensible in the highest degree’.59 But that lay in the future. Wright knew the country and conditions between Menindee and Torowotto Swamp, which was halfway to Cooper’s Creek, and, unlike Burke, he was able to liaise with the guides.60 The temperature was pleasant as the men, horses and camels

Ivory surveyor’s rulers, used by Wills and inscribed on the back with his name.

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WILLS’ DIARY

T h u r s d ay [ M ay ] 1 6 t h 1 8 6 1

About 8am an easterly breeze sprang up again and lasted throughout the day Early in the evening a thin Cir Ch veil came up from the South causing a halo to form around the moon. the stratification of the clouds was perpendicular to their direction & they passed over with great METEOROLOGY rapidity. In the second half of the nineteenth century, there was increased interest in the study of meteorology. The first national meteorological service in the world was established in 1854. This later became the United Kingdom Meteorological Office. Its aim was to research the possibilities of forecasting the weather, mainly to protect the safety of ships and their crews at sea.

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Meteorology was also of great interest to the Victorian Exploring Expedition. Specific instructions were issued to Wills relating to meteorological observations. These ranged from recording temperatures and wind speed to documenting meteors and ‘remarkable phenomena in meteorology’. On the Burke and Wills expedition, the bulk of the scientific data was collected at the depot, east of Menindee, and at Cooper’s Creek, prior to Wills’ departure for the Gulf of Carpentaria. Wills’ final diary contains mostly references to the weather. In this entry, Wills observes a halo around the moon, caused by thin cirrostratus clouds. These clouds are composed of ice crystals that appear from the ground as a transparent sheet or veil.

headed north across the desert. Rain had filled the waterholes and there was fodder for the animals all along the track. Burke took full advantage of the favourable conditions. He drove his men and his animals to the point of exhaustion. Wills was relishing the adventure. For long stretches at a time, he was lost in his observations and computations. His promised assistant never arrived, so Wills began to teach the young German, William Brahe, how to operate the sextant and other instruments used for surveying and meteorology. In the meantime, Wills did his untiring best, recording their compass bearings and estimating the distances they covered each day. Whenever he could, he corrected his figures by taking astronomical readings. He was also drafting maps that he planned to redraw in Melbourne, when he would have time to do the calculations accurately. The mathematics of navigation brought Wills face-to-face with the great questions of meaning and

truth. Over the past few months, he had been turning his mind to the greatest question of all—the nature, the very existence, of God. With the publication of Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species in 1859, a great tectonic plate had shifted in the sphere of Western thought. In Wills’ letters home in the weeks before he departed, the clash of science and religion was his recurring and urgent theme. Sarah Wills was distressed at the prospect of her son’s apostasy, and Wills had not been able to leave her in peace. Only two months before the expedition left Royal Park, he had written to her

explaining that his argument was with the very concept of FAITH itself (he wrote it in capital letters). To him, faith was analogous to CREDULITY—‘a blind belief without question’.61 He moved his argument onto ground he thought his mother would understand: St Paul, when he spoke about faith, was not advocating blind obedience; he was advocating a life of questioning—the kind of understanding that only comes ‘after investigation and study’.62 Wills was arguing his way towards atheism. With the expedition now in progress, and considering his

Site of Burke and Wills’ most northerly camp, on the Bynoe River.

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mother’s earlier fears for his safety under such circumstances, it must have been clear to Wills that this was no longer an appropriate topic with which to browbeat his mother. He simply stopped writing. In a letter to his sister Bessy, he declared himself too busy: ‘I wish I could send mamma a few lines, but she must read yours and fancy it written to her: I have not even time to send a line to my father’.63 After ten days, Dick and Mountain led the white men to a

key waterhole called Torowotto Swamp. It was here that Burke made what the Royal Commission condemned as ‘an error of judgement’.64 He appointed the mysterious Mr Wright as thirdin-command and sent him back to Menindee with the Aboriginal guides. Wright agreed to organise the delayed section of the party and bring them up to Cooper’s Creek with the rest of the animals and the remaining supplies. He carried a letter for the Royal Society in Melbourne in which Burke explained his decision and urged the committee to endorse Wright’s appointment, but Wright was nursing grave doubts about Burke’s capacity as a leader. He was particularly alarmed by Burke’s tendency to march past permanent water as if there would always be more water further down the track. According to Wright’s own testimony to the Royal Commission, after he reached Menindee, he came to believe that Burke had ‘gone to

destruction and would lose all who were with him’.65 So, Burke rode on, having placed his trust in a man who thought he was mad. On 11 November, Burke’s party struck Cooper’s Creek. On first sight, it was dispiriting. The creek was rocky and dry, and offered no shelter from the desert heat; but, a kilometre further west, they came to some good waterholes where the creek bed was boggy, the gum trees were shady, and the banks were thickly covered with native grasses. Wills was assessing the potential of this region for occupation by squatters. The creek wound between tall sandhills, he observed, which supported ‘a variety of plants on which cattle would do well’.66 He was concerned about the wide stretches of red dirt: when dry, they tended to break open into chasms that could be hazardous for stock; when wet, they degenerated into muddy bogs where cattle could become trapped and die.

This map gives heroic scale to the expedition and to Howitt’s recovery mission. The picture of camels and palm trees suggests a land more like Egypt than Australia. Images like this fed a colonial appetite for tales of daring and adventure set in an exotic land.

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The party spent several days travelling along the Cooper. Burke was allowing the men and the animals to recover their strength.67 Meanwhile, Wright returned to Menindee and took command of the other men and supplies. Wright was in no doubt about his function. He later told the Royal Commission: ‘I gave Mr. Burke my word that I would take the remainder of the party out, as soon as I returned to Menindee’.68 Wright broke that undertaking. Instead, he posted Burke’s letter to Melbourne, and then he waited— as he would unaccountably wait for several months. The Royal

Commission found that ‘to this delay are mainly attributable the whole of the disasters of the expedition’.69 The travellers eventually found what they were looking for—a vast waterhole lined with shady trees. The ancient name of the place was Bullah Bullah. The water was full of mussels and fish, and at daybreak the trees were alive with the whistles and calls of birds. King carved the letter ‘B’ (for Burke) and the Roman numeral ‘LXV’ into a coolibah tree. Bullah Bullah became the white man’s Camp 65, the depot for Burke’s foray to the north. The following century, after the publication of a novel called Dig (1937) by Frank Clune, this coolibah would become known as the ‘Dig Tree’. By mid-December, Wright had still not arrived, and Burke could wait no longer. As Brahe recalled, in an interview published in The Argus in 1910, Burke took him for a walk along the dry creek, until they came to a particularly fine

In 1935, author Frank Clune photographed the Latitude 29 signpost, marking the spot where the expedition crossed into Queensland.

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waterhole. As they swam there, Burke told Brahe that he wanted him to take command of the depot. Brahe said he would rather push on to the north with Burke— at which Burke relented, declaring: ‘So be it!’.70 According to Brahe, however, the next day Wills said to him: ‘We are in a fix. Someone must take charge here’.71 Wills then indicated to Burke that Brahe had offered to stay. Brahe would maintain the depot, with food and supplies, for Burke and Wills’ return from their great trek to the north. The crucial question was: how long should he wait? Brahe claimed that Burke told him to stay for three months and that Wills had privately urged him to wait for four.72 When Wills was dying, however, he wrote that Brahe’s orders were simply to wait—apparently until eternity. The truth was that Brahe’s responsibilities were unclear, because everyone expected Wright to show up any day, with almost limitless supplies and plenty of men.

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The Cooper Creek at Innamincka (photo: John Benwell, 2004).

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• THE RACE to the GULF • On 16 December, four men embarked on the race to the northern coast: Burke, Wills, Gray, and King—along with six camels and Burke’s horse, Billy. Burke had packed sufficient food for just three months: plenty of dried meat, oatmeal, flour and sugar, but only a few tins of preserved vegetables—as though he were a stereotypical male who didn’t like to eat his greens. Burke opened his notebook and began to keep a diary. When the tragedy was played out, William Archer, a member of the Royal Society, laboured to transcribe the dead leader’s inky scrawl. He found that the words were often illegible and that Burke had torn several pages out of the book. The entries that survived were terse. It begins thus:

16th December [1860]—Left Depot 65, followed by [i.e. beside] the creek. 17 —The same; 66. th

18th—The same; 67.73 There was no precedent for an explorer keeping such scrappy records, but this was the way Burke dealt with paperwork. After he died, visitors to his home in Beechworth found that the walls were plastered with messages scribbled in English, French and German. Burke had put up a notice that read: ‘You are requested not to read anything on these walls. I cannot keep any record in a systematic manner, so I jot things down’.74 It was a shame: history has judged the dashing Mr Burke very harshly—but Burke never took care, or else lacked the

skill, to record his own detailed version of the story. Accordingly, it is through Wills’ field book that we learn of an encounter with the local people— the Yandruwandha—on the first day, when the four men were still following the creek. At the end of that day’s travel, Wills provides a lengthy description of the meeting: A large tribe of blacks came pestering us to go to their camp and have a dance, which we declined. They were very troublesome, and nothing but the threat to shoot them will keep them away. They are, however, easily frightened; and, although fine-looking men, decidedly not of a warlike disposition.75

The explorer Charles Sturt sketched this ‘native village’ in the desert of South Australia (c. 1846). Samuel Thomas Gill painted this watercolour copy.

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He thought them a better-looking race than the people he’d met on the Murray and the Darling, and more peaceful, but he was unimpressed: ‘they appear to be mean-spirited and contemptible in every respect’.76 They passed two more large waterholes, which the Yandruwandha told them were called Cullyamurra and Mulkonbar, and then struck out towards the north-west until they found Sturt’s route, which they followed north into the Stony Desert. It was a curious

route to take, since this was the country that had broken Sturt’s heart in 1844, but the rains had transformed Sturt’s desert. It was filled with grass, and the hollows were brimming with water. Meanwhile, back at the depot on the Cooper, William Brahe, William Patten, Thomas McDonough and Dost Mahomet set about building a stockade. They had 12 horses and six camels to care for. The camels, for all their usefulness, could be dangerous. In fact, Dost Mahomet was permanently disabled when

Unlike Burke, the explorer Charles Sturt was a skilled surveyor, writer and painter, who reported in detail on the Aboriginal territories he explored. His men laboriously dragged a surveyor’s chain through the red desert of Central Australia, to measure the distance they were travelling.

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one of the camels suddenly lifted him off the ground with its teeth, shook him violently, and then let him drop. By 20 December, Burke, Wills, Gray and King had left the Cooper and were travelling north-west through the desert. They found scarcely any water—but Wills had developed a love of the arid country, delighting every time they came to a valley filled with ‘fresh plants, which made them look beautifully green’.77 That evening, the party made camp on the Diamantina River (which Burke named ‘Gray’s Creek’—after Charlie Gray). As Wills described it, they were in ‘pleasing woodland scenery’ on the shores of a large, shallow lagoon swarming with birds.78 They lit their fire near a camp of around 40 Aboriginal people, who gave the intruders some delicious fat fish from their waterhole. (It is still generally known by its traditional name, Koonchera Waterhole, and covers 11 square kilometres.) The travellers thanked the local

WILLS’ DIARY

T h u r s d ay A p r i l 2 5 t h 1 8 6 1

The waterhole at this Camp is a very fine one being several miles long and on an average about five chains broad. The water fowl are numerous but rather shy, not nearly as much so however as those on the creeks between here and Carpentaria and I am convinced that their shyness of the latter which was also remarked by Sturt on his trip to Eyres Creek arises entirely from the scarcity of animals both human and otherwise & not from any peculiar mode of catching them which the blacks may have. CHARLES STURT

In 1844, Charles Sturt led an expedition from Adelaide to explore the uncharted interior, with the intention of reaching the very centre of Australia. At the time of Sturt’s journey, the country he named the Stony Desert was gripped by severe drought. So extreme were the conditions that the English thermometers, which graduated to only 127 degrees, burst, matches ignited spontaneously when dropped on the ground, and the hot, rock-strewn surface shredded their horses’ hooves. The party was forced to remain at their depot at Preservation Creek for six months until the winter rains arrived. They ventured northward to the edge of what is now known as the Simpson Desert, where Sturt and his men were compelled to turn back. For Burke and Wills, the seasons had been kinder when they traversed this route, and the landscape appeared deceptively less threatening.

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people with offerings of beads and matches. ‘It is a remarkable fact,’ Wills commented, ‘that these were the first blacks who have offered us any fish since we reached Cooper’s Creek’.79 Burke’s account was as curt as ever: 20th—Made a creek, where we found a great many natives; they presented us with fish, and offered their women. Camp 70.80 Their dealings with the Aboriginal people would soon become a matter of survival, but Burke had brought no-one—black or white—who had any expertise in negotiating with Aboriginal people. Here, at the lagoon, the travellers tried to fill that gap by persuading one or two of the local The Diamantina River in western Queensland (photo: Frank Hurley). Such inland rivers rarely flow. Usually, they are a chain of ponds or waterholes.

men to join them as guides, but without success. On the next day, they left the tribe and made their way along the dry Diamantina as it led them into country that was desolate and hot. They followed a flight of ducks in the hope that the birds were headed for water, but they found none. The following day was Christmas Eve. They were now about 200 kilometres out from the Cooper. Once again, fate was kind. They stumbled onto a huge waterhole. Wills wrote, ‘we had never, in our most sanguine moments, anticipated finding such a delightful oasis in the desert’.81 Here, they took a day of rest in honour of Christmas.

On Christmas Day, they resumed their trek at 4.30 am. One of the camels, a gigantic bull camel named Golah Singh, was weakening, but they continued to follow the dry Diamantina until it began to turn eastwards. Then, they struck north across the plains, sometimes finding stony country, sometimes finding country in which there was plenty of water and an abundance of feed. On 11 January, Wills noted that ‘A quantity of rain has fallen here and to the south, and some of the flats are suitable for cultivation, if

William Hodgkinson drew this scene of the Diamantina River in 1875 or 1876.

A camel camp in the desert (photo: Samuel Sweet, late nineteenth century).

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the regularity of the seasons will admit’.82 Some nights they were nearly deafened by the relentless thrumming of cicadas. Other nights, despite the heat, they slept near blazing fires, to keep the mosquitoes at bay.83 (They were between latitude 23 and 22.) The following day, Wills noted: ‘We found here numerous indications of blacks having been here, but saw nothing of them. It seems remarkable that where their tracks are so plentiful, we should have seen none since we left King’s Creek’.84 By mid-January, they were in the hills approaching Cloncurry. To the travellers’ eyes, this was

‘picturesque and pastoral country … richly carpeted with succulent grasses’.85 But as they battled north, these hills began to buckle and rear into a series of forbidding mountain ranges. The party was now labouring through a rocky, silent world that was testing man and beast. According to Burke, the camels were ‘sweating profusely from fear’.86 In the brutal humidity of the tropical wet season, it took the travellers six days to escape from this nightmare. Burke wrote on 20 January, ‘At last through— the camels bleeding, sweating and groaning’.87 Ten days later, the camel Golah Singh became trapped in a

One of the joys of camping in the bush on a clear night is to lie on the ground and gaze up at the jewelled miracle of the stars. The legendary missionary John Flynn (‘Flynn of the Inland’) recorded this wonder in this lantern slide (1906–1907).

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creek bed. The travellers led him downstream for almost 5 kilometres, looking for a place where the camel could negotiate the banks, but their search was impeded by waterholes and by the fact that they were being shadowed by Aboriginal people, whose intentions seemed not to be peaceful. Eventually, they made the hard decision to leave the camel to his fate, little suspecting that they were destined to see him again. Burke was so determined to travel light that he decided to omit a tent. Instead, the men unrolled their swags and slept under the stars. In the outback, on a clear night, the stars blaze in their millions against the unfathomable blackness of the sky. The planets are tiny white beacons of constancy in a sea of twinkling jewels. The moon glows as it sails through the blackness, so near that you can see its roundness and trace the gigantic rifts upon its surface. We can imagine each man—Burke, Gray, King and Wills—lying in the dark beside a smoky camp fire, looking up at this vastness.

WILLS’ DIARY

T u e s d ay M ay 7 t h 1 8 6 1

Breakfasted at daylight but when about to start found that the Camel would not rise even without any load on his back. After making every attempt to get him up we were obliged to leave CAMELS him to himself. Between 1840, when the first camel was introduced into Australia, and 1907, thousands of camels were imported to help open up the arid inland areas. Camels can go without water for up to seven days and carry loads of up to 600 kilograms. Combined with the fact that they can eat most of the native grasses and shrubs in the Australian outback, they were the ideal beasts of burden for the early expeditions. Despite this, none of the six camels Burke and Wills took with them on their trek to the Gulf survived. At this stage, no-one in the party knew about camel handling, and little attention was paid to the conditions through which they were travelling. Camels are able to tolerate a wide variation in temperature, but they don’t like wet weather. The boggy surfaces the explorers travelled over were not suited to the camels’ feet, which are very wide and flat—perfectly adapted for dry and sandy surfaces. The lack of knowledge and gruelling conditions meant that the camels were overworked and overloaded, and either died or were abandoned. During the 1920s and 1930s, when the camel’s usefulness in outback exploration was superseded by the motor car, they were released into the wild, where their numbers grew to such proportions that they are now considered a serious feral problem.

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For Wills, the night sky was a passion. He scanned it for shooting stars and he witnessed the eclipses of Jupiter’s moons. He knew how to calculate his longitude by reading the movements of the heavenly bodies. His was a cosmos of reason and mathematics. But these nights without a tent may not have always been so reflective. Some nights the flies and mosquitoes were a torment, and some nights the men were drenched with rain. It seems likely that they sought refuge, wherever possible, in an abandoned Aboriginal gunyah—or that they accepted the hospitality of local people. But, these people were ‘the blacks’. This was an age in which a gentleman simply could not admit that he had curled up in a gunyah with blackfellows and a dingo for company. For the next 20 days, the four men continued to press northwards, deeper into the heat of high summer. On Saturday, 9 February, Wills announced that they were in the country that had been discovered by Mr Gregory and

other previous explorers. They had reached the northern limit set for them in their official instructions, but Burke pressed on. They were now in the fertile black soil plains of tropical Queensland, approaching the Gulf of Carpentaria. The rains were setting in and great stretches of the country were covered in floodwaters and black mud. Once again, the camels were floundering in country that was alien to their very nature. At Little Bynoe River, the men established Camp 119. It was clear that the camels were about to break down, but the river was salty and Wills was in no doubt that they were within reach of the ocean. Burke decided to leave King and Gray with the exhausted camels, while he and Wills pressed on to claim the prize. They set out after breakfast on Sunday, 10 February, and spent most of the day battling through mud, water and quicksand. Burke’s horse, Billy, twice became bogged, and was so weakened by his ordeals that

they thought they might lose him; but, once again, they managed to free him. Eventually, they came to open country that was covered with water—through which they waded, often kneedeep, for several kilometres. Then, they came to a raised Aboriginal pathway, covered in recent footprints. They had been following this well-trodden causeway for 2 kilometres when they entered a forest and found an Aboriginal camp. Wills was enchanted: it was one of the prettiest places he had seen on the entire journey—alive with geese, plovers and pelicans.88 The two men sent the birds scattering as they led the exhausted Billy splashing into the marsh, and waded through it until they came to a clearly defined channel through which the seawater entered. It was at this point that Wills made another unwitting revelation. He wrote: ‘Here we passed three blacks, who, as is universally their custom, pointed out to us, unasked, the best part

Bynoe River in Queensland (photo: Frank Clune, 1935).

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down. This assisted us greatly, for the ground we were taking was very boggy’.89 So far in his narrative, Wills had expressed a range of attitudes towards the Aboriginal people: he had ignored them, represented them as troublesome, or wilful, or comical. He had acknowledged gifts of fish, though never very graciously. Now, at the very limit of their northern journey, Wills let slip that his party had been receiving directions and help from Aboriginal people, possibly across the length of the trek. Following the local people’s directions, Burke and Wills led Billy across another 5 kilometres of these tidal flats, where they found a place to make camp. The next morning, they realised that Billy was done in, so they hobbled him and proceeded without him. They had travelled just 25 kilometres north of Camp 119. They could hear the crash of the ocean: it was clear to them that the salt water in the swamp came from the sea. However,

a fantastic tangle of branches and aerial roots, rising from the mud like living stalagmites, stood between the two men and the ocean. Although there is no detailed record of the environment in which Burke and Wills found themselves, there would certainly have been tiny lungfish crawling through the slime and crabs burying themselves in the cool mud. It is highly possible, considering it was the height of the species’ breeding season, that a crocodile was dozing close by in the heat, ready to stake out its territory. But Burke and Wills were strangers here. In their perilous solitude, they would have seen only the mangroves and felt only the intense heat. There was no ceremony, no flag-raising, no three hearty cheers for Her Majesty the Queen. They could go no further. Burke and Wills turned around and trudged back to rejoin the others. Burke wrote in his journal: ‘At the conclusion of the report, it would be well to say that we reached the sea, but we could not obtain a view of the open

On 11 February 1861, Burke and Wills abruptly reached the end of their quest—their way to the ocean blocked by tangled mangroves. The two men turned around and began their return journey.

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ocean, although we made every endeavour to do so’.90 They were now 13 days behind schedule. They were soaked, exhausted and wallowing in the steaming bog of the Gulf Country during the annual monsoon. The mosquitoes were kings here— and the men were prey for them to feast on. Charlie Gray was complaining of headaches. The camels were failing. Ominously, the foursome had consumed twothirds of their food.

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• FROM the GULF to SILENCE • The wet season had set in. Nothing Wills had endured so far had prepared him for the misery that now swept over the four men. The annual monsoonal rains were deluging northern Queensland, transforming sand into mud. They travelled when they could, sometimes by daylight, sometimes in the dead of night. At any one time, two of them were riding while the other two walked. The lonely travellers started to retrace their steps by following trees that King and Gray had blazed on their outward journey. Wills had already documented this country, so his field notes for the return journey are more concise than his earlier records, but every bit as meticulous. At least eight times a day, he recorded the temperature, pressure, wind

Today, the Dig Tree is a tourist attraction, protected by a boardwalk (photo: Jon Rhodes, 2001).

and cloud-cover. Every third or fourth night, he lay on the ground gazing up at the brilliance of the night sky and made careful astronomical readings. He had not deserted his post. The men themselves were failing. They were battling on a daily handful of flour and some mouldy, dried meat. Their sole vegetable was portulaca or pigweed, a fleshy green plant that they gathered from the banks of creeks. On the evening of 23 February, the tropical humidity was particularly oppressive. As Wills explained, the four of them were overcome by lassitude: the slightest exertion made each man feel as though he were suffocating.91

William Strutt’s study of saltbush, which grows on salt-affected land. Pigface is a desert succulent. After rains, it bursts into flower, transforming the desert into a crimson carpet.

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On 2 March, they were trudging through the saltbush country when they came upon a wretched sight. The massive camel Golah Singh was standing where they had abandoned him. He was ‘thin and miserable’, recorded Wills.92 In his distress, the creature had stopped eating and had been pacing up and down the track, pounding out a small pathway. The moment he saw the other camels, his appetite was rekindled and the gigantic animal began to feed on the abundant vegetation. The following night, they were travelling through the dark by the glow of a half-moon. As they felt their way across a

Pencil drawing of the Gulf of Carpentaria by the English artist William Westall, with a view of Groote Eylandt.

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creek, Charlie Gray rode over an immense python and killed it. Later that day, they camped further along the creek, where they cooked the creature—all 5 kilos of it—and feasted. With swollen bellies, they resumed their weary journey at two o’clock the following morning, but Burke was soon suffering wretchedly from dysentery—apparently brought on by eating the snake. He was so nauseous that he could scarcely keep his seat in the saddle. So, they limped back to the creek. When Burke’s bowels were finally purged and the world had ceased to sway around him, they started again, just as dawn was breaking.

Wills wrote their story onto the country: their northward journey is on the right-hand side of the trail, the return journey is on the left, and ‘Golah’ features in the centre.

It was soon clear that Golah Singh was so emaciated that he could scarcely walk. Once again, they were ‘obliged,’ as Wills put it, ‘to leave him behind’.93 If they had followed their normal practice with disabled horses and camels, they would have shot the creature—both to end his suffering and to strip his carcass for meat. Perhaps, however, their reunion with this camel had unnerved them. It was as though the camel symbolised their own mortal peril—and to kill him was to kill all hope for themselves.

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WILLS’ DIARY

M o n d ay A p r i l 2 9 t h 1 8 6 1

Finding Landa still in the hole we made a few attempts at extricating him and then shot him, and after breakfast commenced cutting off what flesh we could get at for jerking

M E AT J E R K I N G

T u e s d ay A p r i l 3 0 t h 1 8 6 1

Remained here to day for the purpose of drying the meat, for which process the weather is not very favorable

The term ‘jerky’ derives from the Spanish word charqui, which is a meat that has been cured by drying. The simplest method of jerking for the early explorers involved cutting fresh meat into strips, around an inch thick, then hanging the strips in the sun until they were cured. The success of the jerking process relied on hot, dry weather. If the meat was imperfectly dried, it became mouldy and rancid, a problem the trio would later experience while attempting to jerk the meat from the camel Landa. Jerky provided a food source that was easy to transport and had a long shelf life. In terms of nutrition, jerked meat has a much higher caloric yield than fresh meat, and is high in protein. The fat content, however, is low. Considering the natural leanness of camel meat, and the emaciated condition of the camels, the jerked meat would have given the men little nourishment. 94

The following day, Burke was feeling better—and there was abundant feed for the animals. They were about to revisit the ordeal of the Selwyn Range, but now they were saddled with a new burden. Charlie Gray had fallen ill and was ‘unfit to do anything’.94 There was every possibility that Gray was showing the ill effects of gorging on snake, but Wills had no sympathy for him. He believed that Gray had ‘caught cold last night through carelessness in covering himself’.95 With Gray holding them back, their progress through the mountains was slow. The creeks were in flood; the ground was wet and treacherous.

On Wednesday, 13 March, Wills noted that it rained all day. In the afternoon, the torrent was so fierce that the region flooded and the four were forced to move the camels to higher ground. They sheltered in a cave, from which they watched the storm and saw the floodwaters drown the land. Two days later, they were still battling through the mountain range. It was 15 March. Neither leader remarked on the significance, but, if Brahe is to be believed, this was the date on which Burke had told Brahe he could abandon the base camp. They were losing their race against the calendar. Perhaps Brahe would heed Wills’ secret entreaty and wait an extra month. More than ever, they knew they must hurry. Ten days after that, everything changed. They had survived

Camel in the desert (photo: Frank Clune, 1935).

the challenge of the mountain range. They were now camped on the red dirt in Pitta Pitta country, about 300 kilometres south of today’s Mount Isa. Charlie Gray was desperately weak and could scarcely walk. To add to his misery, the two leaders still did not believe he was ill. That day, he stole some meal from their meagre stores and mixed it into a paste. He was eating it behind a tree when Wills discovered him.

Despite Burke’s bullying, Becker persisted in his scientific drawing. This is his exquisite study of a carpet python.

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Gray pleaded that he was suffering from diarrhoea and that he was desperate for food, but Wills was furious. He actually examined Gray’s stools and found no sign of diarrhoea. They were all trying to survive on short rations—their only hope lay in rigorous control of their few supplies. He ordered the stricken man to report to Burke and then continued on an errand of his own to the previous day’s camp. What happened next has been a source of controversy for the past 150 years. Although absent at the time, Wills noted in his journal that Charlie had ‘received a good thrashing’ from Burke.96 But at the Royal Commission, King insisted that

Brass compass used on Howitt’s relief party expedition.

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Burke had given Gray nothing more than ‘several boxes on the ear with his open hand’.97 We are free to guess which of these versions is true. This much is clear: the incident broke the trust and common purpose that had been the source of strength for the four men. It raised a suspicion in the minds of Burke and Wills— and, maybe, King—that Gray had been pilfering from the rations all along. He was now an outcast. Five days later, on 30 March, they shot Boocha, the weakest of their camels. They carved strips of flesh from his carcass and hung them in the sun to dry. On 3 April, the party was travelling across a treeless plain. At their present rate of travel, they were still three weeks from Cooper’s Creek. That day, another of their camels broke down and they abandoned him in the desert. When they saw a line of trees, they felt a sense of hope. The trees indicated the course of a small creek, where the four men made camp.98

That evening, Wills made his observations as usual. It was the fifty-first night since they had begun their homeward journey, and all the while he had been keeping meticulous records of the weather and of their location. This was the final night on which he performed these tasks to the standard he had set for himself. Burke issued an order that they were to bury their remaining gear, including most of Wills’ instruments. Wills kept a thermometer, two compasses and his watch, and he continued to record observations as best he could. In the mid-1980s, Frank Leahy, an expert on nineteenth-century exploration and astronomy, based at the University of Melbourne, decided to retrace Wills’ steps, and perhaps discover the place that Wills had called Plant Camp. Leahy soon realised—as others had done before him—that the coordinates Wills recorded for the camp and for all points north of here were clearly wrong. By then, Wills’ reputation had been

accurate to within five seconds, that’s a margin of error of less than 160 metres. Leahy showed that the problem lay in Wills’ calculation of longitude—always a more complex operation. He showed that Wills’ figures had inbuilt errors that were due, not to any lack of skill on his part, but to the variability of the three chronometer watches that had been issued to him by the Royal Society.

battered by public scepticism about the venture—a scepticism expressed in the rather lame film comedy Wills and Burke (1985), which lampooned the explorers as a bumbling duo. In fact, doubts about Wills’ competence had been circulating for a century. The colonial explorer Ernest Giles had dismissed him as an immature ‘traveller’ whose calculations had been out by more than 100 miles—that is, about 160 kilometres—by the time they reached the Gulf. The explorer A.C. Gregory agreed on

the magnitude of the error, and blamed Wills’ incompetence for the delay that was to cost the team their lives. But Frank Leahy was convinced that Wills was a highly skilled navigator, and he embarked on an elegant experiment. He took Wills’ coordinates and other survey records and compared them with the actual coordinates of the expedition’s known camp sites. This comparison enabled Leahy to establish that Wills’ calculations of latitude were

In 1986, following Wills’ directions, and making the appropriate mathematical corrections, Leahy discovered a pair of blazed trees. Leahy was in no doubt that this was Plant Camp: the surrounding terrain tallied with a description that King gave to the Royal Commission. But he could not locate the buried cache of equipment. Over the next 20 years, Leahy continued to shadow Wills’ journey across Australia, building up his understanding of how the time shown on the watches waxed and waned.

The Dig Tree at the Bullah Bullah waterhole (photo: Peterdownunder, 2008).

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WILLS’ DIARY

S a t u r d ay A p r i l 2 7 t h 1 8 6 1

I greatly feel the want of more instruments the only things I have left being my watch, prism [?] Compass, pocket compass, and one thermometer (Reaumur)

N AV I G AT I O N

Although researchers speculated that Wills used a marine chronometer on the expedition, more recent evidence indicates that he used two chronometer watches for navigation. In 2008, the National Museum of Australia purchased Wills’ gold pocket watch—identified as a James Murray 5243—for $122,000. This is almost certainly the watch that Wills used on his return from the Gulf. According to Wills’ father, Dr William Wills, in A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria, King had returned the gold watch to him on the day he arrived in Melbourne. It is thought that Wills used the Murray 5243 when making his astronomical observations, along with another chronometer watch for comparison. His records show that the watches drifted apart by up to 30 seconds per day. This meant that Wills could not use the watches to establish accurate longitude by timing the altitude of stars. Instead, he had to rely on lunar distance observation to determine longitude. However, difficulties with this process meant that Wills’ lunar observations occurred weeks apart. As a result, he frequently resorted to the method of dead reckoning, or estimated calculations, to determine longitude. 98

In 2005, Leahy took a Government Surveyor named Ray Holmes to the site of Plant Camp. Unbeknown to Leahy, Holmes returned to the vicinity several times with his family to search for the lost artefacts. In 2008, his persistence paid off. Spread over a distance of 2 kilometres, he found several items that appear to have been left behind by the stricken explorers. Presumably, they had been dug up and scattered about by Aboriginal people. Perhaps, they had simply been thrown away by the exhausted party. The items included bullets, buckles, scissors and a piece of equipment used by Wills. This was a 10-centimetre glass tube in a cylindrical brass container. It was a tool that surveyors used to create an artificial horizon—a key step in using a sextant and chronometer to calculate longitude. For Leahy, this discovery of the lost artefacts was a vindication of Wills’ skill. The camp was exactly where Wills’ corrected figures said that it was. ‘By any measure,’ Leahy concluded, ‘the precision to which

Wills navigated, particularly the astronomical component, was extraordinary’.99

it healthy and tender, but without the slightest trace of fat in any portion of the body’.102

On 8 April, Gray, who had been getting worse, slid into a stupor. Wills, however, still insisted that Gray was shamming illness: ‘Halted fifteen minutes to send back for Gray, who pretended that he could not walk’.100 The three starving men strapped the delirious old sailor to the back of a camel and pressed on. King later reported to the Royal Commission that Mr Wills ‘did not understand Gray complaining … as the other three of us did not seem to suffer, except from weakness’.101

At sunrise on 17 April, near Coongie Lake, Charlie Gray died. The three men now faced a terrible decision. They were in a race for their own lives: they were just four or five days away from the depot. So, what should they do with Gray’s body? Wills was a rationalist: he would presumably have left Gray where he lay. Burke, however, was an officer and gentleman. Perhaps he was a gentleman with a troubled

The following day, Burke’s loyal horse, Billy, collapsed into the red sands of the Australian desert and was unable to regain his feet. The explorers made the decision to shoot the horse. Burke must have been heartbroken. Wills, as ever, was clinical in his account: ‘As we were running short of food of every description ourselves, we thought it best to secure his flesh at once. We found

In all probability, this is Wills’ spirit level and its case. In 2007, a surveyor found them in the desert sands near Plant Camp.

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conscience. He insisted they give Charlie Gray a decent burial. It took King all day to scrape a grave from the hard, red dirt. The three survivors now had no food—only a little water. Back at the depot, Brahe’s party had not established any rapport with the Aboriginal people on whose land they were living. Rather than building bridges, the white men had built a stockade beside the Bullah Bullah waterhole and refused to accept any gifts

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of fish, vegetables or even nets. Indeed, whenever the local people approached, Brahe and at least some of his men fired guns over their heads. Despite this vigilance, the local people twice managed to creep into the stockade and steal some of the gear, including a camel’s pack saddle. The result of this mistrust was that the local people were treated as troublesome natives, and Brahe and his team remained largely ignorant of the great bounty that

surrounded them at Bullah Bullah. They sometimes shot ducks, and they occasionally caught fish, but rather than learning how the Aboriginal people lived off their own country, they preferred to subsist on a scurvy diet of rice, damper, salt pork and beef, and a great many cups of tea. Burke had told William Brahe to maintain the depot for three months. Brahe had waited four months and five days—during which time he and his companions

had endured isolation, heat, boredom and the nagging fear that they might be attacked by the local people. William Wright had never arrived from Menindee with the extra supplies and the rest of the men. After four months of their impoverished diet, Brahe, Thomas McDonough and William Patten were all experiencing the first symptoms of scurvy. Patten had also injured his leg: he had been thrown from a horse. He was in a ‘deplorable state’, wrote Brahe, and was desperate for medical treatment.103 He did not mention the camel man, Dost Mahomet, so perhaps he had found his own way of living off the country. Brahe wrote in his journal that there was ‘no probability of Burke returning this way’.104 Perhaps the four adventurers were dead. Perhaps they had been collected by a ship at the Gulf of Carpentaria and were, even now, drinking fine whisky in the social room at the Royal Society. If so, Brahe and his mates had been forgotten. He had done all that could be expected of him. It was time to leave.

In a corner of the camp, where the horses and camels had been tethered, Brahe buried a box full of provisions for the party, should they return. It contained survival rations of dried meat, flour, sugar, oatmeal and rice. Brahe also included a letter: Depôt, Cooper’s Creek, April 21, 1861. The depôt party of VEE leaves this Camp today to return to the Darling. I intend to go SE from camp 60, to get on to our old track near Bulloo. Two of my companions and myself are quite well; the third—Patten—has been unable to walk for the last eighteen days, as his leg has been severely hurt when thrown by one of the horses. No person has been up here from the Darling.

They then covered the hole with horse and camel droppings so that the Aboriginal people would not suspect that anything had been buried. On the trunk of the coolibah tree, he carved his famous instruction: DIG 3 FT. NW. He also hacked out the date. It was the morning of 21 April 1861. Then, Brahe, Dost Mahomet and McDonough loaded the suffering Patten onto a stretcher, assembled their camels and horses, and rode slowly out of the camp—heading south for Menindee, as the sun blazed down on the red sands of inland Australia. At Bullah Bullah, the birds were singing and the white gum trees were reflected in the still cool water. At hundreds of camp sites along the Cooper and the Darling, Aboriginal families would be gathered around their camp fires, eating their breakfast.

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We have six camels and twelve horses, in good working condition. William Brahe105

The inscription on the Dig Tree, as it was in 1935. The bark had grown over the rest of the words (photo: Frank Clune, 1935).

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• FROM the DEPOT down e COOPER • Burke, Wills and King, and their two remaining camels, were in agony as they limped into the depot at half past seven that same evening. In the place where they expected to hear familiar voices, they were greeted by a vast, indifferent silence. Burke cooeed, but the bush turned its back on them and the Bullah Bullah waterhole began to darken as the night closed in. The abandoned men eventually noticed the instruction carved into the trunk of the tree: Dig. King and Wills shovelled away the dirt and uncovered the box. There was also a bottle. They broke it open and found Brahe’s letter. The truth was too cruel: if Burke had not insisted that they tarry in the desert to bury Gray, they would likely have arrived just

Burke, Wills and King arriving at the deserted depot on Cooper’s Creek. This engraving was displayed at London’s International Exhibition in 1873.

in time. According to King, Burke asked if either Wills or King had the strength to chase Brahe that night.106 It was a mad question. The three of them were nearly paralysed—‘leg-bound’ was Wills’ expression—by beri-beri and exhaustion.107 Despite their suffering, and allowing for their ‘disappointment at finding the depot deserted’, Wills’ diary expresses a cautious optimism: Brahe has fortunately left us ample provisions to take us to the bounds of civilization, namely: Flour, 50 lb.; rice, 20 lb.; oatmeal, 60 lb.; sugar, 60 lb.; and dried meat, 15 lb. These provisions, together with a few horse-shoes and nails and some odds and ends, constitute all the articles left, and place us in a very awkward position in respect to clothing.108

As the young man lay on the ground beside the stockade and looked up into a darkening sky, his conscience was troubled: ‘Poor Gray must have suffered very much many times when we thought him shamming. It is most fortunate for us that these symptoms, which so early affected him, did not come on us until we were reduced to an exclusively animal diet’.109 It is interesting to note a subtle shift in Wills’ thinking—perhaps a sign that the harsh realities of the expedition were awakening in him a greater awareness. The embers of Brahe’s last camp fire were still glowing. The three weary men shared a meal of oatmeal porridge and sugar, after which each man surrendered to the darkness of sleep.110

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The tragedy is that Brahe was camped just 22 kilometres downstream—no more than five hours’ journey for a man riding a healthy camel. That night, Burke made a plan. He decided to follow the route of the veteran explorer Augustus Gregory, who had travelled this country two years earlier. Gregory’s way back to civilisation was not south via Menindee and the Darling River; instead, he had travelled westwards down the Cooper and then turned south on a side creek named Strzelecki Creek. The Royal Society’s instructions advised Burke that this was a potential homeward route: the creek would lead him to a remote sheep station in South Australia at a place called Mount Hopeless. This haven was only 240 kilometres away—less than half the distance to Menindee. According to King’s later narrative, Wills counselled Burke against the plan.111 Their information about Gregory’s track was vague—they had no

map, no coordinates, no bearings to follow. This was no time to plunge into the unknown. Wills wanted to head back to Menindee. Yes, it was much further—650 kilometres—but they knew the route, and they knew that people, food, perhaps even medical care, would be waiting. And Brahe had only just left: maybe they could catch him. King agreed—but he was just there to follow orders, and Wills was no rebel.112 So, Burke’s choice determined the destiny of them all. In fact, Burke’s decision to head west was just the first of three miscalculations that cost him and Wills their lives. As they rested at the depot the following day, Burke wrote a brief letter to the Royal Society. He declared that they had succeeded in finding ‘a practicable route to Carpentaria’ (as if that had been the official objective all along), and explained that they were heading downstream to find the trail to Mount Hopeless.113 The next morning, King reburied the box, along with Burke’s letter.

When he had finished, they raked the horse and camel droppings back into place so that the Aboriginal people would not find the cache. King placed the broken bottle on the top of the stockade, as a sign to any observant member of the depot party who happened to return. The morning of Tuesday, 23 April marked another important chapter in the expedition. Wills acknowledged this with the start of a new diary, which, unfortunately, would also be his last. The three men then set off down Cooper’s Creek, with Landa and Rajah, their two surviving camels, loping along behind. Despite all they had been through together, despite their depleted numbers, the three men retained their rigid, military-style hierarchy. Burke was the leader; Wills was his loyal lieutenant; and King was what he had always been—a common foot soldier. At the end of the most gruelling day, Burke and Wills expected King to find the energy to dig a hole, build a fire or collect food.

John Longstaff’s monumental painting (1907) of the exhausted trio at the Dig Tree. Burke is the dominant figure, staring out at his own mortality. Wills (as the subordinate) is seated. The faceless King lies on the ground with the camels. In fact, King was the fittest of the three. It was he, not Burke, who dug that hole.

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WILLS’ DIARY

108

T h u r s d ay M ay 2 n d 1 8 6 1

About a mile further on we came to a seperation of the Creek, where what looked like the main branch turned towards the South this channel we followed not however without some misgivings as to its character which were soon increased by the small and unfavorable appearance that the creek assumed. on our continuing along it a little further it began to improve and widened out with fine water holes of considerable depth, the banks were very steep and a belt of scrub lined it on either side this made it very inconvenient for travelling especially as the bed of the creek was full of water for considerable distances. At h11.0am we halted until h1 m30pm and then moved on again then taking ((to)) a SSW course for about two miles when at the end of a very long waterhole it breaks into billibongs which continue splitting into sandy AUGUSTUS CHARLES GREGORY channels until they are all lost in (1819–1905) the earthy soil of a box forest. Seeing little chance of water In September 1857, Augustus Gregory was hired by the New ahead we turned back to the South Wales Government to search for traces of fellow explorer end of the long water-hole and Ludwig Leichhardt, who had disappeared on an earlier expedition. camped for the night. Gregory set out from an area near Ipswich in March 1858 and proceeded west, crossing the Warrego and Barcoo rivers. After discovering evidence of the lost explorer, Gregory and his team travelled westwards down Cooper’s Creek, until it fanned out into dry channels and the explorers found themselves amongst sandhills and flooded plains. Three years later, Burke and Wills found themselves faced with the same scenario. Gregory had made the wise decision to return to the junction of Strzelecki Creek. From there, he continued south, eventually reaching Adelaide. This was Gregory’s last major expedition. Unfortunately, Burke believed that Gregory never left the creek, and the explorers continued to search fruitlessly for a channel that would lead them towards Mount Hopeless. 109

WILLS’ DIARY

M o n d ay M ay 6 t h 1 8 6 1

Moved up the creek again to Camp No 9 at the Junction to breakfast and remained the day there.The present state of things is not calculated to raise our spirits much the rations are rapidly diminishing our clothing, especially the boots are all going to pieces and we have not the materials for repairing them properly. The Camel is completely done up and can scarcely get along, although he has the best of feed and is resting half his time. I suppose this will end in our having to live like the blacks for a few months. VICTORIAN AGE

The Victorian era was a time of incredible scientific and social progress. Britain had become the most powerful trading nation in the world, resulting in a social and economic revolution. Darwin’s The Origin of Species was published in 1859, and philosophy and science posed challenges to established religious beliefs. However, there still existed a strict social code of conduct. It was common to regard Aboriginal people as inferior or ignorant. Burke and Wills were willing to accept the Yandruwandha people’s help, but they were troubled by the reality of having to adopt their way of living in order to survive.

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For the whole of his brief and brutal life, King had been a survivor—a man who saw much and held his tongue. Malnourished and exhausted, the party only travelled about 8 kilometres before making camp. ‘The weather is delightful days agreeably warm,’ Wills wrote.114 He also observed a ‘great improvement in our spirits & strength’.115 After dark, however, the cold rose up from the ground and seeped into their marrow: their garments were now a patchwork of rags, and Brahe had left them no fresh clothes.116 Wills remarked that the chilly nights were ‘more noticeable from our deficiency in clothing the Depot having taken all the reserve things back with them to the Darling’.117

continued with their journey down the creek. On Thursday, 25 April, the Aboriginal people returned: We had scarcely finished breakfast when when [sic] our friends the Blacks from whom we obtained the fish, made their appearance with a few more and seemed inclined to go with us and keep up the supply. We gave them some sugar with which they were greatly pleased they are by far the most well behaved blacks we have seen on Cooper Creek.118

As Wills explains, the Yandruwandha wanted to stay and supply them with additional food, but presumably Burke thought they were angling for more goods. In any case, the hungry explorers made it apparent that they wanted to be left alone. They were men of their times. The superiority of the white race was not merely an article of faith, it was considered to be a scientific fact. To both Burke and Wills, it was inconceivable that a white man should require the helping hand of ‘a savage’.

On the following morning, a group of Aboriginal men came calling. They were members of the Yandruwandha tribe, whose country the trio had just entered. They brought the gaunt strangers 6 kilograms of delicious fish. The trio gave the Aboriginal people some matches and scraps of leather in return. They then Nicholas Chevalier, Return of Burke and Wills to Coopers Creek, painted in 1868. King is blended into the camels, as if he were little more than a beast of burden.

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The best Wills could find to write of the blacks is that they were ‘well behaved’. The three men travelled down the most southern branch of the creek and stopped at a waterhole several kilometres long, where there was good feed for the camels and hundreds of waterbirds. Tantalised by the prospect of roasted duck, they tried to shoot one or two of the birds, but the creatures were ‘rather shy’.119 That night, the three weary men and their tired camels lay on the banks of the creek, in the heart of Yandruwandha territory, beneath a brilliant heaven. The men woke when it was still dark and loaded Landa and Rajah by moonlight. They followed an Aboriginal path to the south-west for an hour and a half, and stopped for breakfast beside a waterhole on the morning of the 26th. Then, they pressed on till midday, when once again they made camp and rested in the bed of the creek. Wills recorded in his diary that ‘our last camp on the road down from the Gulf having taken four days to do what we

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then did in one’.120 The trio’s pace was slowing considerably. A descendant of the Yandruwandha people, Aaron Paterson, provides a picture of the landscape the three men inhabited. They would have heard the shrill chorus of hundreds of cockatoos, galahs and cockatiels perched in their hiding places in holes among the rivergums and coolibahs. Perhaps, a cool breeze played down from the ridge and blew across the fire where the three men were trying to warm themselves. As they breathed in the aromatic smoke of burning coolibah wood, Wills, it appeared, was restored to his old optimistic self. He declared that the explorers’ slower pace and ‘change of diet’— an essential element of which was the food provided by the Yandruwandha—had ‘worked wonders’.121 In less than a week, they would be ‘fit to undergo any fatigue whatever’.122 Indeed, 24 hours later, Wills was back on duty, carefully recording the weather:

First part of night clear with a light breeze from South temperature at midnight 10 deg (Reaumur) towards morning there were a few Cir Cum [cirrocumulus] cloud passing over from NE to SW but they disappeared before day light at h5am the tempre was 7.5 degs (Reaumur).123 Wills’ last remaining thermometer was calibrated in the now obsolete Réaumur scale. The two temperatures are 12.5˚C and 9.4˚C. It was as if Wills was reassuring himself that everything had returned to normal, even though he knew that Burke was leading them in the wrong direction. He continued, ‘I greatly feel the want of more instruments, the only things I have left being my watch, prism compass, pocket compass, and one thermometer’.124 In reality, the time for describing the clouds had passed. He was now in a battle for his own survival. The next day, however, the trio’s troubles resumed. In the half-light

WILLS’ DIARY

S a t u r d ay A p r i l 2 7 t h 1 8 6 1

At h9 m20 we came up on ((the Creek)) again where it runs due south and halted for breakfast at fine waterhole with fine fresh feed for the Camels. Here we remained until noon when we moved on again and camped at one oclock, on a general course having been throughout the morning S W 8 miles. The weather is most agreeable & pleasant nothing could be more favorable for us up to the present time. The temperature [in?] the shade at h10 30am was 17.5 (Reaumer) [sic] with a light breeze from south and a few small cir Cum clouds towards the North. RÉAUMUR SCALE

Wills measured temperature using both Fahrenheit and Réaumur scales. The latter, otherwise known as the ‘octogesimal division’, was conceived by French scientist René Antoine Ferchault de Réaumur in 1730. Réaumur found that when he dipped an ice cold thermometer into boiling water, it expanded from 1000 to 1080 units. Starting from a base point of zero, he thus devised a temperature scale that assumed a boiling point at 80 degrees. Popular throughout Europe in the 1700s and 1800s, the system was replaced by Fahrenheit and then the more convenient Celsius. Initially, Wills recorded temperatures in both Fahrenheit and Réaumur; however, all he had left at the end of his journey was one thermometer graduated in Réaumur.

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before dawn, they were travelling westwards along the creek when Landa became bogged on the edge of a waterhole. These mud holes are a feature of the region after rain. The present-day driver who gets bogged soon discovers that his vehicle is buried to the chassis. There are only two ways out: use a cable to winch the vehicle free, or get a tow from a truck or a powerful tractor. As Wills explained in his diary, they tried every means to free the camel, but it was impossible:

All the ground beneath the surface was a bottomless quicksand through which the beast sank too rapidly for us to get bushes or timber fairly beneath him, and being of a very sluggish stupid nature he could never be got to make sufficiently strenuous efforts towards extricating himself. in the evening, as a last chance we let the water in from the creek so as to bouy him up and at the same time soften the ground about his legs but it was of no avail. The Brute lay quietly in it as if he quite enjoyed his position.125 Landa was still stuck the following morning, Monday, 29 April. After a few more failed attempts at rescuing the beast, they shot him and spent the rest of the day hacking off as much of his flesh as they could. They remained at the camp the next day, attempting to jerk the meat in the sun, but with limited success since the rain had set in.

The morning of 1 May, they dumped most of the load that Landa had been carrying, saving a few ‘necessary and useful articles’, which they packed onto Rajah.126 Later that day, they came to an unoccupied Yandruwandha camp. Here, the Cooper turned north, but the three travellers placed their faith in an Aboriginal pathway that ran due west across a plain. About 4 kilometres on, the path reconnected with the creek. They were starting to trust the knowledge of the Yandruwandha. On 2 May, as they continued to press westwards, looking for the turn-off to Strzelecki Creek, they heard the noise of a great many people ahead of them. A crowd of natives was camped in the bed of the creek: ‘we came at a distance of six miles on a lot of natives … they seemed to have just breakfasted and were most liberal in the presentations of fish and cake we could only return the compliments by some fish hooks & sugar’.127 Although Wills records little in his diary, we can deduce a fair amount about what

The cockatiel, or weero, is common in the arid inland of Australia. Sometimes, they are seen in large, colourful flocks.

happened. Wills’ observation that the Yandruwandha people had just finished breakfast suggests they would have been sitting around fires in small groups. They did not respond to this intrusion with any aggression. On the contrary, the group invited the strangers, who were still in a desperately frail condition, to join them. The Yandruwandha had every reason to be wary—the white men who had taken possession of Bullah Bullah for the past four months

Two views of Cooper’s Creek. It is difficult to understand how any bushman could die of hunger here (photos: Frank Clune, 1935).

had shot at the local Aboriginal people several times. Yet, the mob welcomed the three travellers and plied them with fish and nardoo cakes—more than they could eat. When Wills records ‘we could only return the compliment by some fish hooks & sugar’, there may be a hint of irony in his use of the decorous term ‘compliment’, as though it were a little demeaning to be so in debt to the blacks. Wills would later spend some time with the Aboriginal people,

Galahs, with their screeching call, were common in the inland at the time of the expedition, particularly near waterways. They are now even more widespread.

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learning key Yandruwandha words and noting them in his journal; but on this occasion, he did not yet have enough language to obtain travel advice. It was a costly deficiency: the Yandruwandha’s territory extends the length of Strzelecki Creek. And so it was that the three men left the Aboriginal people and wandered on, downstream. By mid-afternoon, the Cooper had fractured into a maze of dry channels. The only water was in small billabongs scattered through the treacherous sands of a eucalyptus forest. The trio had no choice but to retreat. It was well that they did. If they had pressed on, they would have walked deeper into the desert. They were heading towards that blistering

Dawn at Lake Eyre (photo: Richard Green, 2000). White salt glitters in the red earth. The white bed of the lake stretches to the distant sky.

5th 1861

arena of salt—Lake Eyre. They had retreated from a place of certain death. The Cooper became their prison. To add to their predicament, Rajah was trembling and sick. They lightened the camel’s load and made camp beside a shady waterhole. The next day, they headed in a northerly direction for the main creek. On Saturday, 4 May, they established their ninth camp site since their return to the depot. Here, King stayed, hoping that rest, water and good feed would revive their ailing camel. Meanwhile, Burke searched the surrounding country for nardoo,

while Wills wandered alone down the dry creek—following different channels, hoping that one would show itself to be Gregory’s escape route to the south. On Sunday, 5 May, Wills stood alone on the crest of a high sand ridge, two hours south-west of camp 9. From that vantage point, he hoped to spy a way out of the labyrinth, but to the east, south and west, he could see only desolate plains and the parallel lines of red sand ridges, which are so typical of the deserts in that region: This dreary prospect offering no encouragement for one to proceed.128

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Sketch of a camel by William Strutt.

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•LEARNING from the

YANDRUWANDHA •

Back at the camp on 6 May, Wills’ optimism was faltering. He wrote: ‘The present state of things is not calculated to raise our spirits much’.129 In other words, they were in serious trouble. Their own supplies of food were pitifully small. They were, in fact, living on the edge of starvation. Their clothes, including their boots, were falling to pieces—and it was clear that Rajah was dying. The Yandruwandha were their only hope; but for proud white gentlemen, such as Mr Wills and Mr Burke, that was a demeaning prospect. We can hear the shame in Wills’ conclusion: ‘I suppose this will end in our having to live like the blacks for a few months’.130 King, in his later narrative to Alfred Howitt, explained that,

The Yandruwandha were skilled fishers, using various types of net.

while he was nursing the sick camel, ‘Mr. Burke and Mr. Wills went in search of the natives, to endeavour to find out how the nardoo grew’.131 But Wills was not yet ready to admit that he and Burke were now dependent on the Aboriginal people: he made their meeting with the tribe sound like an accident. On Tuesday, 7 May, he wrote: ‘Mr Burke and I started down the Creek to reconnoitre. At about eleven miles we came to some Blacks fishing, they gave us some half a dozen fish each for luncheon and intimated that if we would go to their Camp we

Duboisia is a genus of small perennial shrubs with leaves that contain nicotine scopolamine and hyoscyamine. They are used to induce altered states of consciousness.

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the Yandruwandha, that did not matter. They had a rich diet, which included a range of plants, fish, snakes, lizards and marsupials. But they had a surplus of fish and nardoo—the two foods that these strangers relished.

should have some more and some bread’.132 The bread was the very filling nardoo bread, for which the explorers were developing quite an appetite. The nardoo plants resemble a four-leaf clover. They are common through the inland and grow on the swampy flats of Cooper’s Creek, particularly after heavy rain. A colonist who lived in the area during the following decade said that the Yandruwandha and their neighbours collected the seeds (more strictly called sporocarps) early in the morning. They took them home in bags and roasted them in the embers of a fire. They put the cooked seeds

The Yandruwandha knew the secret of preparing nardoo flour (photo: Jon Rhodes, 2001).

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into a shallow wooden bowl to blow away the ashes, and then used two flat stones to grind the seeds into flour. (Another colonial observer reported that they added water when they ground the seeds.) They mixed a dough from which they made rolls about 40 centimetres long, which they baked into bread or cakes.133 Another favourite way of eating the seeds was in the form of a watery porridge, which, as Yandruwandha elder Benny Kerwin explained in the 1970s, the people always ate using a mussel shell as a spoon.134 Nardoo is very filling, but, like white bread or potato chips, it has little nutritional value. To

Wills had an idea of the cultural business that was appropriate for this gift of food. He ripped some waterproof material in two. He presented the Aboriginal men with one piece, and Burke gave them the other. Then, they all walked together along the creek for about 5 kilometres to the Aboriginal camp, where the Yandruwandha men indicated a place where the two strangers could stay. As their hosts began building a fire, Burke and Wills demonstrated the miracle of matches. As Wills wrote in his diary: ‘lighting a fire with matches greatly delights them but they do not care about having them’.135 The Aboriginal people encouraged their guests to eat fish and nardoo bread until, wrote Wills, ‘we were positively unable to eat any more’.136

But the party had only just begun. The men then honoured their guests by sharing a paste called pitcheri. ‘It has a highly intoxicating effect when chewed even in small quantities,’ Wills observed. ‘It appears to be the dried stems and leaves of some shrub.’137 Pitcheri is a tobacco-like narcotic that is still widely used by

Aboriginal people today. Scientists have generally believed that the Yandruwandha and other tribes of central Australia made it from the leaves of a tree called Duboisia hopwoodii. But a recent article in the Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine reports that, while this tree is used in some regions, the common source is a shrub

commonly called wild tobacco.138 Colonial sources reported that, in traditional societies, senior men used pitcheri for pleasure or as a painkiller. They also used it to invigorate themselves during long desert journeys and to give themselves courage in warfare. The method of its preparation, which involved steaming the leaves

Aboriginal man preparing pitcheri (photo: Arthur Groom, 1947).

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in sand that had been heated by a fire, was a secret guarded by the old men of a particular clan. The drug was a valuable item for trade: the central tribes, including the Yandruwandha, exchanged it for ochres and for the flat stones that they used for grinding seed.139 The morning after this encounter, on Wednesday, 8 May, Burke returned to Camp 9, where King had been tending Rajah. Burke could see that the great beast was finished and he ordered King to shoot him. ‘I did so,’ King recalled, ‘and we cut him up with two broken knives and a lancet; we cured the meat and planted it’.140 At the same time, Wills was walking on his own, back down the creek, still trying to find a channel that would lead them through the maze. But after 10 solitary kilometres, he again found himself in a wasteland. Lost and defeated by country he could not map, he walked slowly back up the creek towards the Yandruwandha camp. It was a

George Lambert’s graphic painting of the death of a camel (1907). The crows are gathering to descend on the carcass. Lambert relocated this scene to Strzelecki Creek.

round trip of 20 kilometres— a testing distance under any circumstances, but a marathon for a man in Wills’ pitiful condition. But he was still coy about the extent to which he had become dependent on the Yandruwandha, writing, ‘as I was about to pass’ their camp ‘they invited me to stay’.141 This encounter transformed Wills’ relationship with his hosts, and showed him the only way in which he could survive. To understand what happened to him that night, we need to reach beyond Wills’ formal prose and reconstruct the encounter for ourselves. The scene might look something like this: a solitary white man, the boy who had once rambled with his father in the hills of Totnes, sits down in an Aboriginal gunyah, surrounded by people of the Yandruwandha tribe. In front of them, a small camp fire is blazing where people are cooking their dinner.

After the expedition, camels and Afghan camel handlers became a familiar sight, transporting goods through the arid outback.

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Left the Blacks Camp at h7 m30 Mr. Burke returning to the Junction whilst I proceeded to trace down the Creek. this I found a shorter task than I had expected for it soon showed signs of running out and at the same time kept considerably to the north of West. there were several fine waterholes within about four miles of the Camp I had left but not a drop all the way beyond that, a distance of seven miles. Finding that the creek turned greatly towards the North I returned to the Blacks’ encampment and as I was about to pass they invited me to stay so I did so, and was even more ABORIGINAL PEOPLE AND EXPLORERS hospitably entertained than The extent of the role that Aboriginal people played in helping early before being on this occasion explorers is not easy to determine. Prevailing negative attitudes meant offered a share of a gunnya and that the explorers did not necessarily credit the assistance of Indigenous supplied with plenty of fish and people, focussing more on scientific and geographical observations. Nardu, as well as a couple of Contact with local people was not always recorded in expedition nice fat rats, the latter found journals, and Aboriginal people left no written records of their own. most delicious, They were On the Burke and Wills expedition, two Aboriginal guides took the baked in the skins. lead party to Torowotto. Aboriginal guides were further enlisted by William Wright to take the party to Bulloo River, and still others guided the party nearly to Cooper’s Creek. In addition, the party sought assistance from Aboriginal communities to help find water sources. When Burke, Wills and King returned to the depot at Cooper’s Creek, after their trek north, they came to rely heavily on the hospitality of the Yandruwandha people to supplement their meagre supplies. They initially accepted simple offerings of food, but, by the end of the expedition, Wills was accepting offers of shelter— sharing the Yandruwandha people’s bark ‘gunyah’. The stark reality of starvation prompted him to explore the notion of ‘living’ with the Yandruwandha in order to learn their methods of survival. Until the point of desperation, however, it is apparent that the explorers made little effort to learn about the Aboriginal way of life or to understand their culture. 127

Once again, they welcome this odd visitor to their fire. They have few words in common. One can imagine much pointing and nodding and laughter. They already know each other’s names. Wills extends his hand, respectfully, toward the chest of the man who seems to be in charge. ‘Pitchery,’ says Wills.142 The man smiles and touches his own naked skin in agreement. Pitchery lays his hand against the white man’s grimy shirt and says ‘Wiltja’. Wills is laughing. ‘Yes, I am Wiltja.’143 Pitchery hands a cake to Wills. He knows the word for this already, ‘nardoo’. Pitchery pulls a fat fish out of the fire and lays it in a bark tray. He breaks off a portion of white flesh and gives

blacks—like a savage. In his report, Wills writes about the night with formal brevity:

it to Wiltja. ‘Thawirritji,’ says Pitchery. Wills knows this word, too. The big fish is ‘cawilchi’. The women are watching, eating and talking among themselves. Then, Pitchery pulls a couple of small, fat marsupials out of the fire. He scrapes off their skin and fur, and cuts out some of the tender flesh. Pitchery gives a hunk to their ravenous guest, who wolfs it down. It is delicious.144 The gentlemen of the Royal Society could never imagine such behaviour: eating with the

Aaron Paterson is a descendent of the Yandruwandha. He lives in the region and knows its stories.

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was even more hospitably entertained than before, being, on this occasion, offered a share of a gunya, and supplied with plenty of fish and nardoo.145 The decorum of the passive voice plays down the role of the Aboriginal people. He reports that he ate ‘a couple of nice fat rats, the latter found most delicious, They were baked in their skins’, but, again, he uses the passive voice.146 Wills notes that the night was ‘clear and calm’ (because the meteorologist inside him is never still), and then he describes the

WILLS’ DIARY

W e d n e s d ay M ay 8 t h 1 8 6 1

sleeping arrangements: ‘we slept by a fire just in front of the Blacks Camp. they were very attentive in bringing us fire wood and keeping the fire up during the night’.147 His use of the word ‘we’ is curious and worth noting. With whom was he sleeping? It’s a tender scene: the Aboriginal people were ‘very attentive in bringing us fire wood’ and in keeping the fire burning through the night. Though it is tempting to imagine he shared the warmth of a woman that night, it is more likely that he slept either as an honoured guest with ‘Pitchery’, or in a gunyah set aside for single men. Whatever the extent of that fireside intimacy, it remains Wills’ secret, but the punchline comes

the following day. On Thursday, 9 May, he writes, ‘Parted from my friends the Blacks at 7.30 and started for Camp No 9’.148 Wills had called the Aboriginal people his ‘friends’ once before, but, on that earlier occasion, it was difficult to read his tone. He might have been a little facetious. In this case, his use of the word ‘friends’ appears entirely genuine. So, what did the Yandruwandha make of these intruders? These events were so memorable that they entered the oral tradition of the tribe. Aaron Paterson is descended from a man who was in the clan that cared for them. Paterson says that his mother, Gloria, explained that ‘Our people

tried to help these fellows who we thought were under some spell or sung by someone as they seemed to act kurrani (mad), as they wandered around aimlessly as if they didn’t know how to get back to where they came from’.149 If fate had been kinder to William Wills, the day after he was embraced by the humanity of the Yandruwandha would also have marked his return to the white man’s side of the frontier. William Brahe had returned to the Cooper with a companion. They were just 55 kilometres upstream—at the depot. They were looking for Burke and Wills.

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•BRAHE&WRIGHT in search of BURKE&WILLS • large cavity in which the mucous membranes were all dried out.150

As we have seen, Brahe had quit the depot nearly three weeks earlier, on the very day that Burke, Wills and King returned. Over the next week, Brahe rode slowly south through the desert with Thomas McDonough, Dost Mahomet and the ailing William Patten. They were heading for an Aboriginal waterhole on the Bulloo, a stopping point on the long ride back to Menindee. What Brahe could not have known was that William Wright had at last left Menindee and was making his way north. In fact, he had been trapped at Bulloo for several days, marooned in a desert of horror. The ruthless heat of summer had burnt off the vegetation and dried most of the waterholes to stagnant sumps. Wright’s men were already suffering from scurvy. Now, they

had been drinking filthy water— and were wracked by vomiting and diarrhoea. At the same time, cruel thirst and starvation had reduced Wright’s horses to traumatised wrecks. As Dr Beckler observed, ‘The anuses of the poor animals … stood wide open’. Through the gaping orifice of each animal, Beckler could see into a

William Hodgkinson’s sketch of arid country around the Koorliatto waterhole.

William Hodgkinson was a member of the expedition. He painted this watercolour of the battle at the Bulla waterhole and gave it to a wealthy squatter’s daughter.

Every time Wright’s party established a new camp site, their tents were infested with rats and flies. Dick and Mountain, the intrepid and patient Aboriginal guides, realised that the venture was a calamity. Wright had

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stopped taking their advice, so they had turned back. The artist Ludwig Becker was continuing to sketch, write and paint, even though he was appallingly unwell: his teeth were coming loose and parts of his body were painfully swollen. He could not last long. In the past week, three men had died.151 Charles Stone, appointed by Wright at Menindee, had gone first, tormented by scurvy and

Scurvy is caused by a deficiency of vitamin C. In severe cases, spots appear on the legs, open sores develop and teeth fall out. If there is no relief, the sufferer dies.

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disfigured by a mass of syphilitic welts and pustules.152 A day later, William Purcell (the cook at Menindee) had died, screaming in delirious terror.153 And now Dr Beckler feared that they had caused the death of an Aboriginal man. Violence had been brewing at Bulloo for days. The local tribe had become enraged at these strangers who had brought misery and illness to their precious waterhole. They had already shown their anger at the previous camp by confronting the trespassers, as Dr Beckler wrote, ‘all decorated, freshly painted, shining with fat smeared over the whole body and armed with shields and boomerangs, some with spears’.154 Now, at Bulloo, they were again making threats and demanding that the strangers move on. As the confrontations became more dangerous, one young Aboriginal man— whom Wright called Mr Shirt—attempted to negotiate a solution, but the conflict was plagued by fear and mistrust. The warriors charged

the camp, and Wright ordered his men to gather inside their little stockade. The men opened fire. The terrified Aboriginal people fell to the ground and then retreated. Tragically, in the tumult, the white men shot Mr Shirt. ‘He was a hero from head to toe,’ Beckler wrote. ‘Slowly, and with difficulty, he raised himself from the ground and hurled upon us what we assumed was the curse of his tribe.’155 His comrades darted back onto the field of battle and carried him away. Later that night, the white men heard wails of anguish from somewhere behind the trees.156 The situation could not have been more wretched. Wright was impatient to escape the hateful place. The Aboriginal people had every reason to attack again. Becker was now unconscious. About 3 am, Wright heard a bell from the south. He could make out a number of objects moving across the moonlit plain. When daylight broke, he recognised that they were some of the horses that Burke had taken to the Cooper. As

WILLS’ DIARY

F r i d ay M ay 3 1 s t 1 8 6 1

Decamped at h7 m.30 am having first breakfasted, reached my b passed between the sandhills at h9 m0am and reached the ((blanket)) mia mias at h10 m40 from there proceeded on to the rocks where I arrived at h1 m30 having delayed about half an hour on the road in gathering some portulac. it had been a fine morning but the sky now became overcast and threatened to set in for steady rain and as I felt very weak and tired I only moved on about a mile further and camped in a shelterd gully under some rushes.

SCURVY

Scurvy is caused by a chronic deficiency in vitamin C, which prevents the synthesis of collagen in the body. As the cellular structures begin to break down, gums begin to swell and bleed, and haemorrhaging occurs inside the joints. When the link between scurvy and vitamin C was finally established, lemons or limes became a staple provision for early explorers. Unfortunately, in an effort to streamline the expedition, Burke chose to auction off his supply of lime juice at Balranald. Burke, Wills, Gray and King managed to stave off the effects of scurvy by consuming portulaca, a plant that grew throughout the Channel Country. By June, however, Burke, Wills and King had run out of provisions and were dying of malnourishment. Other than lethargy, Wills does not record any specific symptoms of scurvy.

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the Menindee team watched the approaching mob, they saw Brahe on horseback. Wright was only too willing to cede command. According to Dr Beckler, the condition of Becker was the only factor that prevented them all from heading to the Darling immediately, but Becker obliged them by dying that night. The following dawn, the men gathered to bury the German painter. They dismantled the stockade and laid the logs over the German’s grave. When that was done, they stood around a camp fire and threw his ragged clothes, bedding and tent into the flames. Finally, they packed up his research notes, equipment and specimens, in preparation for shipping them home to Melbourne, where they now reside in the State Library of Victoria. Camel driver Belooch Khan and the assistants John Smith and William Patten were seriously ill. Thomas McDonough had been badly injured by a horse. Each one of them was desperate to abandon this sea of misery.

As they turned back towards the safe harbour of Menindee, Brahe was wondering about events at Cooper’s Creek. Surely, after all this time, Burke was dead. Surely. But Brahe was not certain. The next day, he convinced Wright, who presumably wanted to do something properly, that the two of them should return to the depot, for one last check. Five days later, on Wednesday, 8 May, Brahe and Wright rode back into the empty depot. That same afternoon, Burke and King were 55 kilometres away at Camp 9. A little further on, Wills was walking. In a few hours, they could have been reunited: Brahe and Wright had only to dig up the box and read Burke’s letter. It explained that his party had moved downstream and was attempting to reach Mount Hopeless. As Wright put it, however, they saw ‘no sign of Mr. Burke having visited the creek, or the natives having disturbed the stores’.157 King’s broken bottle was still sitting on the top of the

stockade—but they failed to notice it. Brahe had no reason to dig up the provisions that he had buried. The abandoned camp site must have felt like a melancholy place: Brahe and Wright told the Royal Commission that they stayed for just 15 minutes—scarcely long enough to enjoy a cup of tea. Their misreading of the site was the result of Burke’s second fatal error. When King reburied the box, along with the all-important letter, the three men may have wondered whether they should carve a new message onto the tree, indicating that they had returned from Queensland; but they (or at least Burke) decided not to— the word ‘Dig’ said all that was necessary.158 Back in Melbourne, when Dr Wills was reflecting on the farce that had killed his son, he could not contain his rage. The ‘apathy, stupidity, and carelessness of Wright and Brahe,’ he declared, ‘are really beyond comprehension’.159 But Burke had given them no cause to stay.

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The expedition’s camp site at Menindee (photo: Joyce Evans, 1996).

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• From STRZELECKI CREEK to NOWHERE • The following day, Friday, 10 May, Wills briefly rejoined Burke and King at Camp 9, where they were still jerking meat from the dead camel. Then, he went out looking for nardoo seed. The explorers were used to living on flour. The rough bread or damper that they made each night was the mainstay of their diet, but their supplies of flour were now almost depleted. They had decided that nardoo was the Aboriginal equivalent—and that they could survive if they learned how to harvest the small black seed. Wills, unfortunately, was under the misapprehension that it grew on trees, so he was unable to find any. He did, however, discover the padlu bean. ‘They boil easily,’ he wrote, ‘and when shelled are very sweet much resembling in taste

Yandruwandha camp on the banks of the Strzelecki Creek, sketched by the explorer Charles Sturt in 1844.

the French chestnut they are to be had in large quantities nearly every-where’.160 The next day, Burke decided that he and King would pay a visit to the Aboriginal people to learn all about nardoo. Wills was again alone. In his solitude, he wrote: ‘I have now my turn at the meat jerking, and must devise some means for trapping the birds & rats. what a pleasant prospect, after our dashing trip to Carpentaria, having to hang about Cooper Creek living like the blacks’.161 From his diary entry, Wills appears calm, rational and reconciled to a new way of thinking. Wills had enjoyed the solitude and the hunting when he was living as a shepherd beside the Edward River at Deniliquin. Back then, he had had a low opinion of the

Botanical study of nardoo.

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Mr Burke said, that we ought to do something, and that if we did not find nardoo, we should starve, and that he intended to save a little dried meat and rice to carry us to Mount Hopeless.

Aboriginal people, doubting their intelligence and believing that ‘little can be done with them’.162 Now, he was more familiar with the Yandruwandha and had shared the intimacy of sleep beside a camp fire. The trio had considered only two courses of action—to return to the white man’s side of the frontier at Menindee, or at Mount Hopeless. Perhaps, Wills now considered a third option: to accept the aid of the local people and to sit tight until a search party arrived. To Mr Burke, this solution would have been unworthy of his standing as a gentleman and hero of the Empire.

But, there was a complication. Burke and King returned from their outing to report that the Yandruwandha were nowhere to be found. Over the next two weeks, the three men wandered up and down their section of the creek looking for the Aboriginal people, desperate to learn the secret of nardoo. The trio still had a supply of rice and dried camel meat, but this would soon be finished. After they had spent three days sheltering in a pair of vacant gunyahs, Burke decided to act. As King explained it:

The long-haired rat is nocturnal. Its numbers can reach plague proportions after heavy rains. (Painted by the great animal artist John Gould.)

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The three of us then came to the conclusion that it would be better to make a second attempt to reach Mount Hopeless as we were then as strong as we were likely to be, our daily allowance being then reduced. Mr Burke asked each of us whether we were willing to make another attempt to reach the South Australian settlements, and we decided on going; we took with us what remained of the provisions we had planted— two-and-a-half pounds of oatmeal, a small quantity of flour, and the dried meat; this with powder and shot and other small articles made up our swags thirty pounds each, and Mr. Burke carried one billy of water and I another.163 On the morning of Friday, 17 May, the three men followed a

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Mr Burke & King employed in jerking the Camels flesh whilst I went out to look for the Nardu seed for making bread; in this I was unsuccessful not being able to find a single tree of it in the neighborhood of the Camp. I however tried boiling the large kind of bean which the Blacks call Padlu, they boil easily and when shelled are very sweet resembling the French Chestnut they are to be had in large quantities nearly every-where. PADLU

Padlu, as Wills refers to it in his diary entry, is the seed of the Bauhinia tree (Lysiphyllum gilvum), popularly known as the bean tree. It is commonly found along Cooper’s Creek and the watercourses and flood plains of other desert areas. The foliage is dense, consisting of small oval leaves, set in pairs, and produces white flowers in spring. The bean tree bears long woody pods in late summer to early autumn, which contain the seeds, or large beans, described by Wills. The seeds have a hard outer coating, which would explain the boiling process used by Wills. As well as producing edible seeds, the bark of the tree secretes a thick sap, which is very sweet and is considered a delicacy by the Aboriginal people. The flowers also have a sugary nectar which, when fermented with native honey, produces a semi-intoxicating drink. 143

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Yandruwandha path that ran south-east from Cooper’s Creek, intending to follow it until it intersected with some ‘likely looking creek’ running south.164 They had not gone far when King noticed a carpet of green plants in the sand beside a creek. It looked like clover, but when he investigated, his heart leapt. He recognised the seed. It was nardoo. The flat was covered with it. Wills wrote that ‘this discovery caused somewhat of a revolution in our feelings for we considered that with the knowledge of this plant we were in a position to support ourselves even if we were destined

to remain on the creek; & wait for assistance from Town’.165 There it was again—Wills’ willingness to imagine that they would simply stay where they were; but they pressed on, consuming their meagre provisions until they came to the creek they had been seeking. What the Royal Society did not know is that the Strzelecki Creek leads into one of the most forbidding deserts in Australia, the salt-lake country, which an earlier generation of explorers had considered to be impenetrable. True, Augustus Gregory had made this punishing journey two years earlier, but he had been fortified

by ample supplies, a team of eight fit men and no fewer than 40 horses. Burke, Wills and King, by contrast, were three exhausted men on foot, carrying two billies of water. In fact, the ‘Strzelecki Track’ runs through the very centre of Yandruwandha country and was a key part of the network of trade routes used by Aboriginal people who journeyed hundreds of kilometres to reach the ochre mines of South Australia.166 These travellers knew how to live in this hot, arid country and, in particular, where to find lonely wells in the red sand dunes of the desert. But Burke and Wills could not survive on the bounty of the Cooper. For them, this was a highway to oblivion. According to King, the trio travelled for 70 kilometres into this inferno, before they turned back. His account is the sole record of this ordeal.167 Wills wrote no comments in his diary during these four miserable days, nor during the two days after they had battled back to the two vacant gunyahs on the Cooper. For once,

The Yandruwandha (spelt ‘Jandruwanta’ in this 1940 map) country embraces the catchment of the Strzelecki Creek. The Cooper forms the northern border.

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he could not bear to describe their suffering, perhaps because any candid report would have required him to challenge Burke’s judgement. And this, even now, he was simply unable to do. Their precious store of flour and dried meat was running low. They decided to save what remained for a final attempt to reach Mount Hopeless, believing that they might be able to survive the South Australian desert if they waited for rain. In the meantime, they looked to nardoo. Wills called it the ‘staff of life’.168 On Friday, 24 May, King and Wills walked back to ‘Nardoo Creek’ to collect a two- or threeday supply, leaving Burke at the gunyahs. Ironically, Wills referred to this excursion as a way of celebrating the Queen’s Birthday, though any merriment would have been lost in this arduous activity, which was, according to Wills, ‘a slower and more troublesome process than could be desired’.169 Back at the camp, the trio set about pounding the seeds, using an Aboriginal

millstone. The great Victorian Exploring Expedition, which had rolled out of Melbourne, creaking under the weight of its own provisions, had come to this: three men, dressed in rags, pounding tiny seeds in the wilderness in a wretched attempt to keep themselves alive. It was time to take stock. They retrieved the very last of their dried meat and a few other goods that they had planted close by. Then, they set about, as King put it, ‘living the best way we could’.170 Both he and Wills knew that their health was failing. Burke felt too weak to walk. He asked Wills to deposit a new note at the depot explaining that they were now living on the creek. It was a four-day trek, but Wills needed no convincing. It is notable how often he had chosen to be apart from Burke in recent days. In any case, he wanted to bury his precious field books where he knew they had the best chance of being found.171 On Monday, 27 May, Wills set out with his shovel and swag on a

solo odyssey that was to bring him even closer to the Yandruwandha. He also had with him a bag of homemade nardoo flour. He expected it to keep him alive. When he reached the red sandhill above the mud hole where Landa was buried, he met two or three women with some children. It seems that the Aboriginal people had not vacated the area at all— the trio simply hadn’t known where to look. The women were collecting nardoo. Wills saw that the ground was ‘quite black with it’.172 The women directed him on to their camp, which was just over the ridge, but Wills had scarcely crossed the sandhill when he was overtaken by 20 men ‘bent on taking me back to their camp, and promising any quantity of Nardu and fish on my going with them one carried the shovel and another insisted on taking my swag in such a friendly manner that I could not refuse them’.173 So, that evening, the Yandruwandha once again welcomed ‘Wiltja’ to their fire. He sat among them while they plied

The Strzelecki Creek led the trio into a country of fiery red sandhills (photo: Richard Woldendorp, 2004).

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Planting the things and preparing to leave the Creek for Mt Hopeless

STRZELECKI TRACK

Explorer Charles Sturt named the track on 18 August 1845, in honour of Polish scientist Paul Edmund de Strzelecki, who explored inland New South Wales and Victoria. Thousands of years before the track was named by Sturt, however, Aboriginal traders followed the route along Strzelecki Creek, from waterhole to waterhole, through to Lake Blanche. From there they continued south to the ochre quarries near the area now known as Lyndhurst. The track, which is about 460 kilometres long, extends from Lyndhurst, in the northern part of the Flinders Ranges, to Innamincka. In 1858, A.C. Gregory travelled this route along Cooper’s Creek, down Strzelecki Creek and between the Blanche and Callabonna salt lakes. Gregory’s journey debunked fellow explorer Edward John Eyre’s belief that an immense salt lake prevented travel into the interior from the south. In 1840, Eyre had climbed a small hill he named ‘Mount Hopeless’ and observed desert plains that were flooded from rainfall, preventing any further progress. By the time Gregory arrived, the same landscape had become dust. The track was opened up as a stock route in 1870, when a cattle rustler named Henry Arthur Readford, later known as Harry Redford, rounded up 1,000 head of stray cattle in order to drive them overland to South Australia. The stock route lost popularity in the 1930s when cattle were being transported by truck, and the town of Innamincka declined. In 1963, gas was discovered west of Innamincka, and the town was revived in the 1970s to service the surrounding gas fields. Today, the Strzelecki Track is a popular tourist and four-wheel drive destination.

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Started with King to celebrate the Queens birthday by fetching from Nardu Creeek [sic] what is now to us the staff of life. returned at a little after two pm with a fair supply: but find the collecting of the seed a slower and more troublesome process than could be desired. NARDOO

Despite the role nardoo may have played in the explorers’ ill health, it became the unofficial floral motif of the ill-fated expedition. As was customary for the time, mementos were collected to preserve the legacy of the heroic explorers for posterity. As well as locks of the explorers’ hair, and one of the hooves of Burke’s horse, Billy, specimens of nardoo were collected by members of the relief party, which became treasured artefacts of the expedition. Charles Summers included a floral moulding with a border of nardoo plants in his bronze statue of Burke and Wills, and William Strutt included a patch of nardoo in his sketch Death of Burke.

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him with food. He pointed to the people and learned their names, which he wrote into his journal:174 Nattairu Tilta

Mourra Papa Papa Papa Mutta Papa

Taccoronu Tucoro Mungallu Bitchuree  2

‘Bitchuree’ refers to ‘Pitchery’. As Wills understood it, there were

two people of this name—one called ‘Mutta’, the other ‘Papa’. Tinnamara 2 Poronko  Kallyu Nunpurra Tillinguru Pinago 2 Willango Myarree Billy[?]

Then he learned the words for things: Pairu Fire Mungalu Wood Murwaddu Grass Jerry stick Minigu bowl Codru to Scratch Puya the Moon Naingaire Clouds Nunugee to Repeat Korowinyee to put away Pulla Kawilka Crow[--] Calku Rushes for making string

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had been there three weeks earlier. There was no sign that anyone had returned. Using the shovel he had carried all this way, he dug up the box. It was no more than 20 centimetres beneath the surface.180 Everything inside was exactly as they’d left it. Carefully, he placed his field notes inside. He also left a note:181 May 30th 1861 Winter was coming and the night was bitterly cold. In his diary, Wills records that, ‘In the evening they supplied me with abundance of Nardu & Fish and one of the old Men … shared his gunnya with me’.175 The next morning, Wills farewelled his friends and walked back to the southern side of the waterhole. Near Landa’s grave, he found some mussels, which he ate for breakfast. He was very unwell. For several days, he had been suffering from chronic constipation, which he described as ‘exceedingly painful’.176 But he struggled on, until he reached the

The frame of an Aboriginal gunyah (photo: Rev Les McKay, 1964).

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long waterhole where they had camped on the way down—the sublime stretch of trees and water where he had seen the rich variety of birds. Here, at a place he called ‘the stones’, a pack of crows were fighting over a large fish.177 ‘Finding it quite fresh & good,’ he wrote, ‘I decided the quarrel by taking it with me’.178 He ate it that night. It was, he wrote, ‘a most valuable addition to my otherwise scanty supper of Nardu porridge’.179 On the morning of the fourth day, 30 May, Wills arrived at the empty depot. He had no way of knowing that Wright and Brahe

We have been unable to leave the creek. Both camels are dead and our provisions are done. Mr Burke and King are down on the lower part of the creek. I am about to return to them, when we shall all probably come up this way. We are trying to live the best way we can, like the Blacks, but find it hard work. Our clothes are going to pieces fast. Send provisions as soon as possible. William J. Wills He added a postscript that laid the blame on Brahe: The Depot Party leaving contrary to instructions has put us in this fix.182

Meanwhile, Burke and King remained at their little camp downstream. Burke was in terrible pain and rarely moved far from the gunyah where the men slept. Given what happened next, it is possible that his weakness and lassitude were compounded by depression—or ‘melancholia’ as the Victorians would have said. In any case, King was collecting and pounding nardoo on his own.

This was not unusual: King was a servant to the officers. According to Yandruwandha descendant Aaron Paterson, the tribe found King’s subservience bewildering. ‘They thought he was a woman,’ he says, ‘or acting like a woman— collecting firewood, cooking food, attending to the others in all sorts of ways’.183 It was during this time that Burke made his third error, which led,

with the inevitability of a Greek tragedy, to his and Wills’ deaths. For three days in a row, a group of Yandruwandha men came to fish at the two waterholes near the explorers’ camp. Each day by the water, they shared their catch with Burke and King. On the third day, the fishermen accompanied Burke back to the gunyahs, where one of them took an oilcloth. The man ran and Burke fired

The Australian Crow (1937), by Australian nature painter Ebenezer Edward Gostelow.

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his revolver over the thief’s head and then chased him, revolver in hand. Meanwhile, the other blacks tried to persuade King to join them down at the water for more fish, but King was unwilling to abandon the gunyah that contained the expedition’s few remaining possessions. He yelled out for Burke, but one of the men placed his boomerang across King’s shoulder and threatened to beat him unless he was silent.184 King broke free. He positioned himself in front of the supply gunyah and fired his own revolver over the Aboriginal people’s heads. When they stood their ground, King produced a long-barrelled gun, and they all ran away. Moments later, Burke was back with the stolen oilcloth. Later that night, Burke and King were in their gunyah when the Aboriginal people returned, calling out, ‘white fellow’.185 Burke went out and found ‘a whole tribe’ coming down the bank, all painted.186 Two men leading the group were carrying string bags bulging with cooked fish. It seems that they had

come to repair relations, but Burke was in no mood for nonsense. As they offered their gifts to him, he knocked the bags to the ground and shouted at King to shoot. King fired, and the men ran for their lives. King said that the reason Burke would not accept the food was that ‘he was afraid of being too friendly lest they should be always at our camp’.187 The Yandruwandha did not spear Burke or kill him, but neither did they forget. According to Aaron Paterson: ‘My great-grandfather was told by his grandad Kimi that Burke was a mean-spirited person who rejected our offers of friendship and food’.188 It was an appalling breakdown of trust, but the oilcloth was not a trivial item. As King explained to the Royal Commission, it was one of two waterproof cloths the explorers used to keep dry and

warm when they were sleeping.189 In the absence of a tent, and given their otherwise meagre bedding, the oilcloths could save their lives, especially on those freezing winter nights. Today, Burke’s act of shooting above the heads of ‘natives’ sounds like one more act of colonial arrogance and brutality, but Burke was a country policeman. For him, firing a warning shot to stop a runaway thief was not such an extreme response—especially when the stolen item was so valuable. In his moment of anger, and in his reflex to protect his equipment, Burke had failed to appreciate that the situation had changed. He was not in the streets of Castlemaine; he was in the land of the Yandruwandha. They were his hosts, and their continuing goodwill was vital to his survival. On Friday, 31 May, Wills was making his way back from the depot, ignorant of what had just transpired. At the big waterhole, he stopped at ‘the rocks’ to gather some portulaca—the first time he had mentioned collecting the

Burke died like a soldier, with a pistol in his hand. According to King, this Colt pistol belonged to Wills, who gave it to Burke after the leader’s own pistol was destroyed in the gunyah fire. This weapon was stolen from the State Library of Victoria in 1944. When it was recovered, the barrel had been cut down.

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common vegetable since his return from Queensland.190 It had been ‘a fine morning but the sky now became overcast and threatened to set in for steady rain’.191 Wills camped in a sheltered gully under some rushes. The next day, he wrote that he was feeling ‘weak and exhausted’.192 He had been suffering from agonising constipation for days and he was having ‘extreme difficulty in getting across the numerous little gullies’.193 It took

him a day longer than he’d hoped to reach the Yandruwandha camp just downstream from Landa’s grave. ‘Found myself very much fagged,’ he wrote, on 2 June, ‘and did not arrive at their Camp until 10 am’.194 He had been hoping for a big Yandruwandha breakfast, but, much to his disappointment, the camp was deserted. Despite Wills’ terrible pains, every night he wrote lucidly in his journal. That night he recorded an extraordinary event:

on going along by a large water hole I was so fortunate as to find a large fish about a pound & half in weight which was just being choked by another which it had tried to swallow but which had stuck in its throat. I soon had a fire lit and both of the fish cooked and eaten. the large one was in good condition.195

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Wills was just a day’s walk from the expedition camp when he noticed smoke rising on the far side of a waterhole. He heard a cooey. It was Pitchery standing on the opposite bank. According to Wills’ understanding, Pitchery was ‘the chief’ of the Yandruwandha. He indicated to Wills that they had plenty of fish and bread. Wills laboured around the lower end of the waterhole and up the sandy path that led to a small camp, hidden beyond the dune. Here, Pitchery welcomed him to a fire where ‘a large pile of fish were

just being cooked in the most approved style’.196 Wills assumed that the half-dozen people who were gathered around were about to have their breakfast, but they had already eaten: ‘I was expected to dispose of this lot a task which to my own astonishment I soon accomplished keeping two or three blacks pretty steadily at work extracting the bones for me’.197 The implication that can be drawn from this is that Pitchery knew that ‘Wiltja’ was making his way back down the bank, and that he had prepared a meal for him. The Yandruwandha may have had a gutful of Burke, but Pitchery, it would seem, was an elder who took each man on his merits. After Wills had consumed all the fish, Pitchery gave him nardoo cake and water until he could eat no more. Pitchery then fetched a large bowl of the raw nardoo flour mixed to a thin paste.

William Strutt’s sketch of saltbush (1850s).

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Wills wrote: A most insinuating article and one that they appear to esteem a great delicacy.198 After this feast, Pitchery invited him to stay the night, but Wills ‘declined and proceeded on my way home’.199 It is likely that, in the eyes of the Yandruwandha, this was an important offer, but Wills had no way of knowing what was at stake. Wills returned to Burke and King and declared that he intended ‘to test the practicability’ of living with the Yandruwandha to see what he could ‘learn as to their ways & manners’.200 On Tuesday, 4 June, he returned to the Yandruwandha, where he would remain for the next two days. Wills provides no details of this excursion in his journal; however, it appears that the Yandruwandha may have become a little irked at Wills’ presence. According to King’s later narrative, told to Alfred Howitt, the Yandruwandha had ‘made signs’ for Wills ‘to go

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away’, at which Wills ‘pretended not to understand them’.201 Still, he was provided with a little nardoo, which he took back to Burke and King. Wills returned to a pathetic sight. Burke and King were huddled in their gunyah alongside the burnt remains of the second shelter. Burke had been cooking the Yandruwandha’s fish when a wind caught the flames, setting the little wooden shelter ablaze. They had lost almost everything, including their few warm clothes. All they managed to save was Burke’s precious revolver—and, yes, some pieces of the oilcloth.202 It was King who told the story.

It is not clear whether Wills ever learned about the confrontation over the oilcloth. Wills’ diary contains no mention of the incident. Pitchery may have tried to explain what had happened, wanting his friend to understand the Yandruwandha’s side of the story. Historian Sarah Murgatroyd says that, years later, Yandruwandha men told local stockmen that Burke and Wills had quarrelled over the incident.203 They said Burke had knocked Wills to the ground, and the two men did not talk for some time afterwards. Unfortunately, Murgatroyd’s book provides no sources, so it is impossible to assess her claim. Indeed, King told

Dr Wills that no ‘altercation, or a word of difference’ ever took place between Wills and his leader.204 Perhaps, though, King was telling a grieving father what he wanted to hear. After returning to camp, Wills informed the others that he knew where the Aboriginal people had gone, and that the Yandruwandha would supply all three of them with food if they joined them up the creek and set up camp on the opposite bank. But when the hungry men arrived at the Yandruwandha camp on Friday, 7 June, it was empty. Burke and Wills died without seeing the Aboriginal people again.

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• STARVATION&DEATH in a LAND OF PLENTY • Some sense has to be made of the Yandruwandha’s disappearance if we are to understand why Burke and Wills died. It’s clear that the Yandruwandha, Pitchery in particular, had taken pity on these mad, befuddled strangers who had wandered into their world of plenty. Like other tribes in frontier Australia, they may also have been looking for white men who could act as intermediaries between them and the pastoralists. As the Yandruwandha must have known from their contact with neighbouring communities, the pastoralists were closing in. They had already commandeered Barkindji lands the length of the Darling. More recently, there had been the confrontation at the waterhole on the Bulloo in which Brahe’s group had shot ‘Mr Shirt’.

If that was a factor, then perhaps Pitchery believed that the kindly and patient Wills might be such a go-between, but Pitchery had to be sure. What Wills did not understand then was that he was being asked to choose between Pitchery’s code of acceptance and Burke’s code of superiority and wariness. Was he Wiltja or was he Wills? If this interpretation is right, then Wills’ loyalty to Burke was literally a loyalty unto death. When the Yandruwandha saw that Wills had elected to stay with the unfriendly and trigger-happy Mr Burke, they gave the men a parting gift of fish and left them to it. When the trio struggled into the Yandruwandha camp on Friday, 7 June, and found it deserted, they pushed on:

With the greatest fatigue & difficulty we reached the Nardu Camp. No Blacks, greatly to our disappointment, took possession of their best Mia Mia.205 At first, both Wills and King spent the days collecting nardoo, while the ailing Burke stayed in the miamia, pounding the seeds into flour so that they could make gritty cakes for their dinner. But Wills, too, was failing. Over the next two weeks, he documented his own decline in his diary. Incredibly, he still looked to the heavens—still noted the clarity of the night sky or the cirrostratus hanging about the north-east horizon.206 The immediate detail of his world, however, had contracted to a short stretch of Cooper’s Creek—and his subject matter now included the

William Strutt painted a faceless King grieving over the body of Burke. The light falls dramatically on the pistol that Burke had borrowed from Wills.

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wasting of his own muscles and the constitution of his own faeces. ‘King out collecting Nardu,’ he wrote on 12 June. ‘Mr. Burke and I at home pounding & cleaning. I still feel myself if anything weaker in the legs altho the nardu appears to be more thoroughly digested.’207 There is a problem with nardoo. The seeds contain an enzyme called thiaminase, which destroys a vital component of the human diet called thiamine or vitamin B1. A deficiency of vitamin B1 is a cause of beri-beri. This was almost certainly the disease that was causing the terrible pain and weakness that both Burke and Wills reported. As we have

seen, the Aboriginal people either cooked the seed or steeped it in water before milling, or else they consumed it as a watery porridge. In 1994, scientists John Earle and Barry McCleary published a paper in Nature in which they reported that water actually neutralises the action of the dangerous enzyme— and that the Aboriginal people’s use of a mussel shell as a spoon was a vital extra precaution.208 Had they used plant matter, say a leaf, this could have reactivated the thiaminase. In 1982, Dr Tom Bergin contended that the enzyme was also destroyed by the Aboriginal practice of cooking the seeds.209 Versions of these two theories have circulated ever

since. It is now a commonplace conjecture that the explorers died of beri-beri because they did not detoxify the nardoo using either of these methods. However, a common symptom of beri-beri is mental impairment, including confusion and irritability, and, in severe conditions, paranoia. As Sarah Murgatroyd points out, the explorers showed no such symptoms.210 On the contrary, Wills was astonishingly lucid and calm—right to the end. The reality seems to be that the explorers were killed by a variety of assaults on their bodies, of which beri-beri was one.

The crested pigeon is common throughout rural Australia. This quaint rendition from 1817 makes the birds seem slender and elongated.

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Mr Burke suffers greatly from the cold & is getting extremely weak he & King start to-((o))morrow up the creek to look for the blacks. It is the only chance we have of being saved from starvation I am weaker than every although I have a good appetite and relish the nardu much but it seems to give us no nutriment & the birds here are so shy as not to be got at. Even if we got a good supply of fish I doubt whether we could do much work on them and the nardue alone, nothing now but the greatest good luck can now save any of us and as for myself, I may live four or five days if the weather continues warm. my pulse are at forty-eight & very weak and my legs & arms are nearly skin and bone: I can only look out like Mr. Micawber “for something to turn up” but starvation on nardu is by no means very unpleasant but for the weakness one feels and the utter inability to move oneself, for as far as appetite is concerned, it gives me the greatest satisfaction certainly fat & sugar would be more to one’s taste, in fact those seem to me to be the great standby for one in this extraordinary continent, not that I mean to depreciate BERI-BERI the farinaceous food, but the want of sugar & fat in all Beri-beri is a disease that is caused by a lack of thiamine (vitamin B1) in substances obtainable here the body. The name is Sinhalese for ‘I cannot, I cannot’, and is likely to is so great that they become have originated from the lassitude experienced by the sufferer. One form almost valueless to us as of the deficiency affects the cardiovascular system (wet beri-beri) and can articles of food, without the cause swelling throughout the body; while the other form of the disease addition of something else. (dry beri-beri) affects the nervous system and can cause muscle wasting, especially in the legs. Common symptoms of beri-beri include fatigue, increased heart rate, shortness of breath, loss of muscle coordination and difficulty in walking—many of which Wills describes in his diary. The disease can also cause neurological problems, such as memory loss, confusion and encephalitis. Beri-beri was endemic in Asian countries for a long time. A link was established between the disease and the consumption of polished white rice. It was discovered that vitamin B1 is found in cereal grain husks, which are removed during the refining process for white rice. Excessive consumption of white bread can also lead to beri-beri. Developed countries have overcome this problem by adding vitamin B1 to certain refined foods. 163

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They had shown cruel signs of beri-beri since they returned to the Cooper, but they were also enduring terrible cold at night. They were so malnourished that Wills described his own arms and legs as ‘skin and bone’.211 And their lopsided dependency on nardoo had a catastrophic effect on their digestion, causing them to evacuate their food before it was properly digested. Wills was in no doubt about this. On Thursday, 20 June, he wrote:

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I am completely reduced by the effects of cold and starvation ... I cannot understand this Nardu at all it certainly will not agree with me in any form we are now reduced to it alone and we manage to get from four to five pounds per day between us. the stools it causes are enormous and seem greatly to exceed the quantity of bread consumed and is very slightly altered in appearance from what it was when eaten.212

By then, Wills could not even wash himself properly. He knew that death was approaching. ‘Unless relief comes in some form or other,’ he wrote the following day, ‘I cannot possibly last more than a fortnight’.213 It was now winter on the Cooper. Though the days were still warm, the nights could be freezing, and sometimes the clear weather was broken by rains and storms.

Unlike the Aboriginal people, the trio had no effective means of keeping warm. As Wills experienced during his brief time with the Yandruwandha, members of the community would tend small fires at the entrance to each gunyah throughout the night. Wills did not appear to blame Burke for their predicament, nor did he curse the Yandruwandha. The cause of their misery, according to Wills, was William Brahe. In his diary entry for Friday, 21 June, the normally reserved Wills reveals his personal anguish: ‘we have to die of starvation in spite of the explicit instructions given by Mr. Burke “That the Depôt party should await our return, and the strong recommendation to the Committee that we should be followed up by a party from Mininda”’. Brahe had plenty of time to reflect on these events. Forty-nine years later, he told the The Argus that he had never been able to understand how the leaders of the expedition starved at Cooper’s Creek. The region was swarming

with migratory rats, he said. ‘By digging small pits I once caught several in a night.’214 When he was with Burke, Brahe had shot ‘a great many’ crested pigeons.215 They were easy to shoot, he said, because they clustered together on the limb of a tree. Most peculiar of all was the group’s inability to catch fish. Brahe said that when he returned to the Cooper with Alfred Howitt, who was leading the rescue party assembled to determine the fate of Burke and Wills, some of the men caught 40 kilograms of barramundi in a single night. Howitt agreed, telling the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science in 1907, ‘I could never understand how it was that Burke, Wills and King did not catch fish, for King had hooks when we found him’.216 But Howitt understood the reason perfectly well: ‘not one of them had bush experience or knowledge of the food which the natives procured’.217 Perhaps, it was their status as ‘officers’ that made them so vulnerable: they did not see the basic tasks of hunting

and gathering as part of their responsibility. In Wills’ case, this is understandable: he was utterly absorbed by astronomy, navigation and mapping. For all of his scientific rigour, he rarely made observations about plants or animals other than to assess the country’s suitability for grazing. In spite of Wills’ lack of ‘bush training’, Howitt believed that it was Wills ‘who really took Burke across the continent and brought him back to Cooper’s Creek. Without Wills, Burke would have been absolutely helpless’.218 By Sunday, 23 June, Wills was unable to leave the mia-mia. Burke had managed to collect a little nardoo the previous day—but he, too, was in a terrible state. Only King had any strength. To make matters worse, the three men were subjected to ‘a fearful night’. The next day, Wills recorded: ‘At about an hour before sunset a Southerly gale sprung up and continued throughout the greater portion of the night the cold was intense and it seemed as if one would be completely shrivelled up’.219

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WILLS’ DIARY

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T u e s d ay M ay 7 t h 1 8 6 1

Mr Burke and I started down the Creek to reconnoitre, At about eleven miles we came to some Blacks fishing, they gave us some half a dozen fish each for luncheon and intimated that if we would go to their Camp we should have some more and some bread. I tore in two a piece of Mackintosh stuff that I had and Mr. B. gave one piece and I the other, we then went on to their Camp about three Miles further. they had caught a considerable quantity of fish but most of them were small. I noticed three different kinds. A small one they call Cupi, five to six inches long and not broader FISH than an eel. the common ones with large coarse scales Fishing was an essential part of life for Aboriginal communities termed Peru and a delicious living in the arid inland areas. They were dependent on the fish some of which run from rivers and waterholes for subsistence, and this was aided by a pound to two pounds their deep understanding of the land, including the effects of weight the Natives call seasonal cycles on water sources. Despite their variable water them Cawilchi. flow, the Diamantina River and Cooper’s Creek have a number of permanent waterholes that support a diverse range of fish species. The Aboriginal people had their own names for the different species, three of which Wills refers to in his diary entry. Wills obviously wrote the Yandruwandhan terms phonetically, but his records have since been translated: ‘thawirritji’ (referred to by Wills as ‘cawilchi’)—black bream, Hephaestus fulginosus ‘kapi’ (referred by Wills as ‘cupi’)—small catfish, Plotosidae spp. ‘parru’ (referred by Wills as ‘peru’)—bony bream, Flavialoas richardsoni 167

WILLS’ DIARY

W e d n e s d ay J u n e 2 4 t h 1 8 6 1

There was no longer any pretence that the explorers could survive on their own. As far as Wills was concerned, the Aboriginal people were their last hope: we have but a slight chance of anything but starvation unless we can get hold of some blacks.220 On Tuesday, just before daybreak, King told Wills he could see a small moon rising in the east with a haze of light stretching up from it, but Wills could not move his skeletal legs. He wrote: ‘I am so weak that any attempt to get a sight of it was out of the question; but I think it must have been Venus in the Zodiacal Light that he saw, with a corona around her’.221 Wills was still attempting to perform his duty—but his attention to detail was failing. In

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his diary, he mistakenly recorded the date as June 23rd, instead of the 25th. His dates remained two days out for the rest of the week. By Wednesday, Wills’ thoughts turned again to the Yandruwandha. He knew that he was dying. He persuaded Burke and King to go in search of their vanished friends—if only to save themselves. He wrote in his journal that ‘They have both shown great hesitation and reluctance with regard to leaving me and have repeatedly desired my candid opinion in the matter’.222 Wills was clear: ‘I could only repeat however that I considered it our only chance for I could not last long on the nardue, even if a supply could be kept up’.223 Sometime that day or the next, he wrote a farewell letter to his father:

My dear Father, These are probably the last lines you will ever get from me. We are on the point of starvation, not so much from absolute want of food, but from the want of nutriment in what we can get. Our position, although more provoking, is probably not near so disagreeable as that of poor Harry and his companions.224 We have had very good luck, and made a most successful trip to Carpentaria and back, to where we had every right to consider ourselves safe, having left a Depôt here consisting of four men, twelve horses, and six camels. They had provisions enough to have lasted them twelve months with proper economy. We had every right to expect that we should have been immediately followed

up from Menindie, by another party with additional provisions and every necessary for forming a permanent depot at Cooper’s Creek. The party we left here had special instructions not to leave until our return, unless from absolute necessity. We left the creek with nominally three months’ supply, but they were reckoned at little over the rate of half rations. We calculated on having to eat some of the camels. By the greatest good luck at every turn, we crossed to the gulf through a good deal of fine country, almost in a straight line from here. On the other side the camels suffered considerably from wet; we had to kill and jerk one soon after starting back. We

had now been out a little more than two months, and found it necessary to reduce the rations considerably; and this began to tell on all hands, but I felt it by far less than any of the others. The great scarcity and shyness of game, and our forced marches, prevented our supplying the deficiency from external sources to any great extent; but we never could have held out but for the crows and hawks, and the portulac. The latter is an excellent vegetable, and I believe secured our return to this place. We got back here in four months and four days, and found the party had left the Creek the same day, and we were not in a fit state to follow them.

W I L L S ’ FA R E W E L L L E T T E R T O H I S FAT H E R

I find I must close this, that it may be planted; but I will write some more, although it has not so good a chance of reaching you as this. You have great claims on the committee for their neglect. I leave you in sole charge of what is coming to me. The whole of my money I desire to leave to my sisters; other matters I pass over for the present. Adieu, my dear Father. Love to Tom. W.J. Wills. I think to live about four or five days. My religious views are not in the least changed and I have not the least fear of their being so. My spirits are excellent.

1861

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As the historian Alan Moorehead points out, this letter is uncanny. Wills was dying, but ‘there is not a word misspelt, hardly a comma forgotten, or a fault in grammar or style’.225 It is the letter of an English gentleman dying with grace and dignity. He had the good manners not to overstate the situation: poor cousin Harry’s death in the Arctic, alongside the celebrated John Franklin, was probably much worse. He stuck to the facts of the matter—with a cogent and affirming account of what he had achieved, and a brief explanation of who was to blame. He was writing with a mind to console his father—and to assure him that the son he loved so dearly had not let him down. Wills concluded the letter by sending love to his brother Tom, and by leaving his money to his sisters. But there was a telling omission: he made no mention of his mother. Not a word of love or tenderness or consolation—even though her greatest fear had come to pass. Sarah Wills, at home in Totnes, did not fit into this manly tale of camel meat, rations and

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battling the odds. Wills did find room in his postscript for one defiant sentence—which may have been especially for her: ‘My religious beliefs are not in the least bit changed and I have not the least fear of their being so’. Religion had been the recurring topic of his letters to his mother. And, at the moment of his death, he would not let it lie. This was the ultimate test of the rational mind—to eschew faith even in the face of death. In the last words he would ever address to his family, he, perhaps, wanted her to know that he had passed that test with ease. Dr Wills always denied that Wills was an atheist. When Wills’ father released this letter to the press, and when he published it in the book he compiled to establish Wills’ reputation as a hero, he omitted the incriminating sentence.226 He knew exactly what it meant.227 Wills read the letter aloud to his companions, anxious to assure them—according to King—that he had said nothing to their

‘disadvantage’.228 He gave them his papers and his watch, so that they could be passed on to his father. The following day, he wrote in his journal one last time. He was weaker than ever, he said, but his appetite was good. He actually enjoyed the taste of the nardoo; it gave him ‘the greatest satisfaction’, but it contained ‘no nutriment’:229 Nothing now but the greatest good luck can now save any of us and as for myself, I may live four or five days if the weather continues warm. my pulse are at forty-eight & very weak.230 He was still trying to understand his world—and still supremely brave. He wrote: Starvation on nardu is by no means very unpleasant but for the weakness one feels and the utter inability to move oneself.231 He began reflecting on the nature of nutrition ‘in this extraordinary continent’.232 But he was tired. It was time to stop. He signed his diary, ‘W.J. Wills’. And he closed the book.

WILLS’ DIARY

F r i d ay , 2 6 t h ( 2 8 t h ) J u n e , 1 8 6 1

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That day, Burke and King made the gaunt, dying man as comfortable as they could. They left him in the mia-mia, with a supply of the wretched nardoo flour, a billy can of water and some firewood. They buried the last of his field books nearby.233 And then they shambled away, leaving Wills on a lonely bend in the river in the centre of Australia. They were carrying the letter, his pocket watch, a pistol and their rancid swags. King told Dr Wills that, as they made their way back up the creek, Burke was distressed, crying again and again: ‘How can I leave him, that dear, good fellow?’.234 Burke himself was suffering from terrible pain in his legs and back. The two men did not get far before Burke collapsed and King had to stop for the night. On the second day, they walked just 3 kilometres further before King realised that his leader was done for. Burke could no longer carry his swag and threw everything away. They made it to an Aboriginal waterhole

called Yidnaminkie. Here, King made camp under a tree: ‘We searched about and found a few small patches of nardoo, which I collected and pounded, and with a crow, which I shot, made a good evening’s meal’.235 According to the novelist Frank Clune, on the edge of the waterhole, Burke wrote a farewell letter to his sister Hessie in which he left her the bulk of his money and admitted that his infatuation with Julia Matthews had been folly. But Clune’s heroic account of the expedition is as much fiction as fact. The idea that he had access to a letter that has now been lost is fanciful.236 Burke knew that he had come to the end. He wrote a final message for the Royal Society. It read: King has behaved nobly and I hope he will be properly cared for.237 That evening, he entrusted his notebook and his watch to King. He and King then prayed together. Burke had led a colourful

life—vivid with indulgence and transgression. Now, he asked God to forgive him for his sins and he commended his soul to the care of his loving Father in Heaven.238 Having made his peace with God, he said to King, ‘I hope you will remain with me here till I am quite dead—it is a comfort to know that some one is by’.239 The following morning, an hour after dawn, Burke died—and King carried out Burke’s final order. He closed the explorer’s cold fingers around his pistol. His corpse was the image of a soldier’s death. And that’s how his admirers remembered him—as ‘the soldier, the voyager, and the pioneer of civilization’ lying dead under a tree.240 In the later nineteenth century, it was the site of this tree, and not the Dig Tree, that Burke and Wills enthusiasts revered. The site is still marked by a plaque. King remained by the body for several hours. For all of Burke’s follies, King had loved this man. They had done great

This illustration (c. 1861) shows the dying Wills clasping his father’s pocket watch. Burke, by contrast, is heroically robust and impeccably dressed—the famous pistol tucked prominently into his belt.

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deeds together. In the years that followed, King would always champion Burke’s cause. He would back Burke’s word against George Landells. He would deny that Burke had beaten Charlie Gray. Seeking no publicity for himself, he would play his role in ensuring that Melburnians understood that the two fallen explorers were worthy of legend. King wandered along the creek for the next two days, until he found a few gunyahs where the Aboriginal people had left some bags of nardoo. He had endured so much, toiled so continuously, and now he was alone. For two more days he rested—and then he walked back downstream to find Wills, who was dead. ‘The natives had been there,’ he said, ‘and had taken away some of his clothes’.241 King buried Wills in the sand and then remained by himself, for some days. When his supply of Aboriginal nardoo ran short, he followed the tracks of the Aboriginal people who had visited

the camp. Along the way, he shot some crows and hawks. The tracks led him to the Yandruwandha. They feasted that night on fish, nardoo and the birds that King had shot. Afterwards, they showed him to a gunyah where he was to sleep with three of the single men. The following morning, they wanted to learn more about what had happened. One of the men put a finger on the ground and covered it with sand, at the same time pointing up the creek, saying ‘white fellow’, which

The tragedy of the expedition fed the colonists’ desire for a history of great deeds. This map of South Australia (1863) identified the locations where Gray, Burke and Wills had died, and where King was found.

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King understood to mean that one white man was dead.242 That was Wills. They asked him where the other man was. King laid two fingers on the ground, covered them with sand and pointed up the creek. They understood. Burke, too, was dead. ‘They appeared to feel great compassion for me when they understood that I was alone on the creek,’ King said, ‘and gave me plenty to eat’.243 After four days, the Yandruwandha indicated that they were going up the creek and

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that he had better go down. King pretended not to understand. He followed them to their new camp, where he shot some more crows for dinner. Thereafter, he was befriended by a woman and her husband. He shot birds for them, and they helped him erect a shelter whenever the mob moved camp. One day, King took the tribe to Burke’s body. ‘On seeing his remains,’ he said, ‘the whole party wept bitterly, and covered them with bushes. After this, they were much kinder to me than before’.244 Eventually, he recalled, ‘they treated me with uniform kindness, and looked upon me as one of themselves’.245

After he left, she gave birth to his daughter, who became known in later life as Yellow Alice.246 Unlike Burke and Wills, and the gentlemen of the Royal Society, King had no lofty image of his place in the cosmos. He was a boy soldier who, against the odds, had lived to be a man. He had learned—in poverty, in war, in the face of misery, cruelty and hunger—to survive and to maintain his dignity. He had learned enough language in

India to make him suitable as a supervisor of the camel drivers. He had, in fact, learned how to live inside other cultures. That combination of modesty, nous and adaptability enabled him to win the trust of the Aboriginal people. He joined that list of settlers, convicts, rogues and lonely souls who were given sanctuary by the Aboriginal people and who experienced the generosity and the kinship of an Australian community.

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According to the story that Aaron Paterson heard from his mother, the Yandruwandha clan who saved King’s life were Aaron’s own family’s clan, the Nguthungama. Indeed, they protected King from another clan who wanted to kill him on the spot. Aaron says that during the two months that the tribe cared for King, he formed a liaison with one of the women.

Eugene Scott’s dramatic painting Natives Discovering the Body of William John Wills (painted in c. 1862) is an allegory of savagery overpowering civilisation. Wild-eyed Aboriginal people peer at Wills—his clothes and blanket wrapped around him like a toga.

Book cover by Stan Cross, a popular cartoonist in the mid–twentieth century.

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• The SEARCH

PARTY •

At the start of June, Dr Wills became alarmed at the lack of news from the expedition. He began writing letters to The Argus, demanding action, and harassing the Royal Society—the members of which rapidly grew impatient with him. But the public were uneasy, and on 19 June, the secretary of the committee, Dr Macadam, announced that a surveyor named Alfred Howitt had volunteered to lead a small search party. He left a week later. Just three days out of Melbourne, he met Brahe heading south. The news was bad. Four members of the support team were dead; Burke and Wills were missing. Howitt returned to Melbourne, assembled a more substantial team, including Brahe, and headed north on 4 July. The news that the explorers were

Eugene Montagu ‘Monty’ Scott’s wood engraving of Howitt discovering King in the care of the noble Yandruwandha.

lost galvanised newspapers across the colonies. The party made the journey to Cooper’s Creek without incident, reaching the depot in just ten weeks. Two days later, they found King in the care of the

Yandruwandha. He was alive, but the rugged Aboriginal life and the unfamiliar diet had not improved his health. Howitt noted that he was sitting in a gunyah in the middle of the camp on the big waterhole:

William Strutt’s famous oil painting of Howitt and his party burying Burke, as a British hero, at Cooper’s Creek.

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He presented a melancholy appearance—wasted to a shadow, and hardly to be distinguished as a civilised being but by the remnants of clothes upon him. He seemed exceedingly weak, and I found it occasionally difficult to follow what he said. The natives were all gathered round, seated on the ground, looking with a most gratified and delighted expression.247 King handed over Burke’s notebook and Wills’ farewell

letter, and later helped Howitt to recover Wills’ buried field books. Howitt feared that King might die and lost no time in recording his narrative with a notebook and pencil. The account is astonishing for its clarity: King’s memory of the order and duration of events tallies almost exactly with Wills’ diaries. On the morning of 18 September, Howitt travelled downstream for 11 kilometres, with Brahe and King and two members of the party. They joined an Aboriginal

path that led to the spot where the three men had made their final camp. Howitt saw before him two gunyahs on a sandbank between two waterholes. ‘Poor Wills remains we found lying in the wurley in which he died, and where King, after his return from seeking for the natives, had buried him with sand rushes.’248 Wills’ corpse had been dug up and chewed by dingoes. Most of his skull was missing. The men carefully collected the remains and buried them where they lay. Howitt read the chapter from the Bible in which St Paul proclaims the miracle of everlasting life, but the key verse is ambiguous: Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead? But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen: and if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.249 It was a logic that Wills himself could not have faulted.

A sensitive study by William Strutt for his Burial of Burke (1911).

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They then heaped sand over the grave and laid branches upon it as Howitt had seen the Aboriginal people do, ‘that the natives might understand by their own tokens not to disturb the last repose of a fellow being’.250 He then cut an inscription into a nearby tree to indicate the location of the grave. A few days later, Howitt located Burke’s remains by the waterhole. Dingoes had eaten his hands and his feet. His pistol, still cocked, was lying close by. Howitt’s men dug a grave and buried the leader’s body, wrapped in a Union Jack. Late the following year, Howitt returned to the Cooper, efficiently retrieved both bodies, and took them to Melbourne via Adelaide for one of the most extravagant public funerals Australia has ever seen.

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This account of the original expedition and of Howitt’s journey was published by the Melbourne Argus newspaper (1861).

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• The AFTERMATH • A Royal Commission examined the causes of the disaster. Its report, published in January 1862, dealt gently and fairly with William Brahe. It was scathing about the waywardness of William Wright, finding that he had ‘failed to give any satisfactory explanation’ for his delay—and that that delay was the main cause of all the ‘disasters of the expedition’, excepting the death of Charlie Gray.251 The commissioners expressed their ‘admiration’ of Burke’s ‘gallantry and daring’. But the substance of their findings against him were damning. He had failed to keep proper records or to issue written orders. He had ‘injudiciously’ divided the expedition in Menindee. He had erred in appointing Wright, and

The funeral car for Burke and Wills was a cheap, ostentatious copy of one used for the Duke of Wellington a decade before. It was 5 metres long and 7 metres high.

The funeral procession included soldiers, judges, members of parliament, local officials, members of various lodges, and other worthies.

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he had shown more ‘zeal than prudence’ in leaving for the Gulf before the supply party arrived. The commissioners were too close to the gentlemen of the Royal Society to subject them to proper scrutiny. They did not see that if Burke was to blame for appointing Wright, then the society was equally culpable for the manner in which it had appointed Burke. The commissioners had nothing to say about the Yandruwandha and merely praised Wills for his ‘fidelity’ to his leader.

crossing of the continent was, he wrote, ‘a splendid piece of insanity’.252 That same year, John McDouall Stuart and his two companions succeeded in crossing the continent—and returned alive. Their route, through the very centre of the continent, linked a series of Aboriginal waterholes across the desert and opened the way for the overland telegraph, which came into operation a decade later.

The legend of ‘Burke and Wills’ has been used to stand for many things. They have been hailed as a pair of British heroes and mocked as a pair of audacious fools. But William Wills deserves to be unshackled from the reckless amateur who drove him to his death. This diary is his testament. It is the work of a strange, thoughtful and brave young man.

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Melbourne itself was divided into the majority who lionised Burke as an imperial hero and those who dismissed him as an incompetent braggart. The historian William Howitt (who happened to be the father of Alfred Howitt, the bushman who rescued King) thought that Burke’s judgement had been dazed by his infatuation with Julia Matthews. Burke’s

Melburnians built a stone cairn in Royal Park to indicate the place where the expedition began. It still bears this plaque (photo: Frank Clune, 1935).

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Australia’s first state furneral was held for Burke and Wills. The procession drew Melbourne’s largest ever crowd.

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ENDNOTES 1 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Enquire into and Report upon the Circumstances Connected with the Sufferings and Death of Robert O’Hara Burke and William John Wills, the Victorian Explorers. Melbourne: John Ferres, Government Printer, 1862. Parl. Paper 97, 1861–1862. 2

3

W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, 23 April 1861–26 June 1861, diary entry, Thursday, 9 May 1861, original item held at National Library of Australia, MS30/7. William Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria: From the Journals and Letters of William John Wills. London: Richard Bentley, 1863.

4 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners. 5

6

7

Wills’ journal entries are written in pencil and are very faint, making it difficult to determine the exact spelling of some of the Aboriginal words he recorded. W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, 23 April 1861–26 June 1861, diary entry, Friday, 26 [sic] June 1861. (During the last four days, Wills wrongly recorded the dates in his diary. The above entry was actually recorded on 28 June.) Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 5.

8

ibid., p. 9.

9

ibid., pp. 9–10.

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10 ibid., pp. 11–24. 11 W.J. Wills to his father, 12 February 1853, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, pp. 19–20. 12 ibid., p. 21. 13 ibid. 14 W.J. Wills to his mother, 22 April 1855, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 29. 15 ibid. 16 W.J. Wills to his mother, 20 August 1856, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 32. 17 ibid., p. 33. 18 W.J. Wills to his brother Charley, Saturday, 10 April 1858, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 38.

26 Herald (Melbourne), 2 September 1858, p. 4. 27 Ambrose Kyte had come to the colony as an unskilled labourer and had grown rich by speculating in property and commodities. 28 The Argus, 1 September 1858, p. 4. 29 Quoted in Tim Bonyhady, Burke & Wills: From Melbourne to Myth. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2002, p. 21. 30 Robert O’Hara Burke, Dispatch, Swan Hill, 6 September 1860, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2082/1a, item 4. 31 Exploration Committee, Royal Society of Victoria, Instructions to Leader, Melbourne, 18 August 1860, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2082/3a, item 1. 32 ibid.

19 ibid., p. 43.

33 Bonyhady, pp. 31–34.

20 ibid.

34 H.G. Turner, A History of the Colony of Victoria, vol. 2. London: Longmans, Green, 1904, p. 105.

21 W.J. Wills to his mother, 10 April 1858, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 45. 22 ibid., p. 46. 23 ‘The Carrington Flare’, Armagh Observatory, http://climate.arm. ac.uk/dates.html, viewed 30 August 2011. 24 W.J. Wills to his brother Charley, 15 September 1859, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 25. 25 W.J. Wills to his mother, 18 December 1859, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 27.

35 Turner, p. 105. 36 H. Begbie (ed.), Ninety-one Years Being the Reminiscences of Falconer Larkworthy. London: Mills & Boon Ltd., 1924, pp. 245–246. 37 The Argus, 13 May 1859, p. 7. 38 Empire, 23 June 1860, p. 3. 39 The Argus, 15 June 1860, p. 5; Empire, 23 June 1860, p. 3. 40 Exploration Expedition, VPP, C.30/1864–5, quoted in The Victorian Historical Magazine, vol. 24, no. 4, 1959, p. 217.

41 Based mainly on Sarah Murgatroyd, The Dig Tree: The Story of Burke and Wills. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 2002, pp. 63–65. 42 Murgatroyd, p. 184. 43 ‘The Burke and Wills Expedition: To the Editor’, The Advertiser (Adelaide), Saturday, 12 October 1889, p. 6. 44 Charles David Ferguson, Experiences of a Forty-Niner during the Thirty-four Years’ Residence in California and Australia. Cleveland, Ohio, USA: The Williams Publishing Co., 1853. 45 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 99. 46 ibid., pp. 99–100. 47 ibid., p. 101. 48 ibid. 49 Ferguson, p. 396. 50 Instructions to surveyor, meteorologist and astronomical observer, issued to members of the Victorian Exploring Expedition by the Exploration Committee, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2082/3c. 51 ibid. 52 George James Landells, Statement to the Exploration Committee, 14 November 1860, reported in Examiner and Melbourne Weekly Times, 17 November 1860, pp. 16–17. 53 Burke to Frederick Standish, 4 October 1860, quoted in Bonyhady, p. 98. 54 W.J. Wills to Georg Neumayer, 16 October 1860, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 107 ff.

55 George James Landells, Statement to the Exploration Committee, 14 November 1860, reported in Examiner and Melbourne Weekly Times, 17 November 1860, pp. 16–17.

67 Robert O’Hara Burke, Dispatch from Cooper’s Creek, 13 December 1860, in Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners, Appendix G.

56 Dr Hermann Beckler, Letter of Resignation, Menindee, 17 October 1860, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2082/2e (1–4).

68 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: William Wright.

57 William Russell, The Crimean War, published by The Times, quoted in Andrew Jackson, Robert O’Hara Burke and the Australian Exploring Expedition of 1860. London: Smith, Elder and Co., 1862, chap. 2. 58 There are conflicting sources concerning the identities of the Aboriginal guides. I’ve used as my source, Bonyhady, p. 113. 59 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners. 60 Burke explains this in the letter he sent to the committee (29 October 1860) re his appointment of Wright.

69 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners. 70 ‘With Burke and Wills: A Survivor’s Memories’, The Argus, 27 August 1910, p. 9. 71 ibid. 72 ibid.; ‘The Exploring Expedition’, The Argus, 14 November 1861. 73 Portion of diary kept by Robert O’Hara Burke on the expedition: 16 December 1860–20 January 1861, original item held at National Library of Australia, Manuscripts Collection, MS30/1. 74 Murgatroyd, p. 175.

61 W.J. Wills to his mother, 17 June 1860, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 80.

75 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 1, Sunday, 16 December 1860, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2083/1a.

62 ibid., p. 82.

76 ibid.

63 W.J. Wills to his sister Bessy, 15 December 1860, in Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 148.

77 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 1, Wednesday, 19 December, 1860.

64 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners. 65 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 135. 66 ibid., p. 165.

78 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 1, Thursday, 20 December 1860. 79 ibid. 80 Robert O’Hara Burke, diary, 20 December 1860. 81 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 2, Monday, 24 December 1860. 82 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 4, Friday, 11 January 1861.

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83 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 4, Thursday, 10 January 1861. 84 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 5, Saturday, 12 January 1861. 85 King was interviewed at length by a journalist from the Australasian who then worked King’s account up into heroic prose. The narrative was published over three successive weeks. It was not uncommon for journalists to feel that the language of an uneducated man was not worthy of a heroic theme, and to transpose a vernacular account into a more literary form. John Morgan’s account of the convict William Buckley in Life and Adventures of William Buckley (Hobart: Archibald Macdougall, 1852) is a textbook example. Author Dave Phoenix located the King series. 86 Robert O’Hara Burke, diary, 18 January 1861. 87 Robert O’Hara Burke, diary, 20 January 1861. 88 W.J. Wills, Field Book No. 9, February, 1861. 89 ibid. 90 Robert O’Hara Burke, diary, 28 March 1861. 91 W.J. Wills, Field Notes February 1861, 23 February 1861. 92 W.J. Wills, Field Notes March 1861, Saturday, 2 March 1861. 93 W.J. Wills, Field Notes March 1861, Wednesday, 6 March 1861. 94 W.J. Wills, Field Notes March 1861, Thursday, 7 March 1861. 95 ibid. 96 W.J. Wills, Field Notes March 1861, Monday, 25 March 1861. 97 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King.

98 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King, questions 862–866, quoted by F.J. Leahy, ‘Locating the “Plant Camp” of the Burke and Wills Expedition’, Journal of Spatial Science, vol. 52, no. 2, December 2007, pp. 1–12. 99 F.J. Leahy, ‘Locating the “Plant Camp” of the Burke and Wills Expedition’, Journal of Spatial Science, vol. 52, no. 2, December 2007, pp. 1–12, and personal communication with Leahy; Penelope Debelle, ‘Signs Said Dig Here for Burke and Wills Tools, Says Researcher’, The Age, 12 June 2008; Carolyn Webb, ‘Wills May Have Got Lost, but Now His Spirit Level Is Found’, The Age, 19 April 2010. 100 W.J. Wills, Field Notes April 1861, Monday, 8 April 1861. 101 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King.

110 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861. 111 ibid. 112 ibid. 113 Robert O’Hara Burke, Dig Tree Note, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, SAFE 1. 114 Keith Thallon, ‘Return to Cooper’s Creek: In the Tracks of Burke and Wills and Their Predecessors’, The Royal Historical Society of Queensland, vol. 8, no. 2, 1967, p. 300. 115 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide,
23 April 1861–26 June 1861, diary entry, Tuesday, 23 April 1861. 116 Dr Wills quizzed William Brahe about this at the inquest.

102 W.J. Wills, Field Notes April 1861, Wednesday, 10 April 1861.

117 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Tuesday, 23 April 1861.

103 William Brahe, Report (Melbourne, 30 June 1861), original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2082/4h.

118 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Thursday, 25 April 1861.

104 William Brahe, Report (Melbourne, 30 June 1861), journal entry 18 April 1861.

119 ibid.

105 William Brahe, Dig Tree Memorandum, 21 April 1861, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2082/1d (1–2). 106 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box FB33, item 255110. 107 W.J. Wills, Field Notes April 1861, Sunday, 21 April 1861. 108 ibid.

194

109 ibid.

120 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 26 April 1861. 121 ibid. 122 ibid. 123 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Saturday, 27 April 1861. 124 ibid. 125 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Sunday, 28 April 1861.

126 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Wednesday, 1 May 1861. 127 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Thursday, 2 May 1861. 128 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Sunday, 5 May 1861. 129 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Monday, 6 May 1861. 130 ibid. 131 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861. 132 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Tuesday, 7 May 1861. 133 R. Brough Smyth, The Aborigines of Victoria, vol. 1. Melbourne: Government Printer, 1878, p. 215. 134 Benny Kerwin, in Gavan Breen, This Is What Happened: Historical Narratives by Aborigines. Melbourne: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1986, quoted at http://burkeandwills.slv.vic.gov.au/ ask-an-expert/did-burke-and-willsdie-because-they-ate-nardoo. 135 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Tuesday, 7 May 1861. 136 ibid. 137 ibid. 138 There are many spellings, including ‘pitchery’, ‘pitcheri’ and ‘pituri’. The study cautions that, with the loss of many Aboriginal languages, the term is now used for a range of intoxicants prepared from different plants. In many tribes around Australia, during initiation ceremonies such as circumcision, people would inhale the mindaltering smoke created by burning

the leaves of such plants. Angela Ratsch, Kathryn J. Steadman, and Fiona Bogossian, ‘The Pituri Story: A Review of the Historical Literature Surrounding Traditional Australian Aboriginal Use of Nicotine in Central Australia’, Journal of Ethnobiology and Ethnomedicine, vol. 6, no. 26, 2010.

144 Yandruwandha terms from http:// www.burkeandwills.net.au/General/ glossary.htm. 145 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Wednesday, 8 May 1861. 146 ibid.

139 George Aiston, ‘The Aboriginal Narcotic Pitcheri’, in Oceania, vol. 7, no. 3, pp. 373–377; Pamela Watson, ‘Pituri: An Australian Aboriginal Drug’, pharmacist– anthropologist, Toowong, Queensland, Drugtext, http://www. drugtext.org/Minorities/pituri-anaustralian-aboriginal-drug.html; R. Brough Smith, The Aborigines of Victoria, vol. 1, 1878, p. 222.

147 ibid.

140 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861.

152 ibid., p. 240.

141 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Wednesday, 8 May 1861. 142 In his journal entry for 3 June, Wills described ‘Pitchery’ as ‘the chief’ of the Yandruwandha. He also spelled the name ‘Bitchuree’ (27 May). According to Alfred Howitt, the explorer who rescued King, male members of the clan that produced the drug pitcheri took the name as their own, the most senior man being known as Pitcheri Pinnaru. But, according to Yandruwandha descendant Aaron Paterson, this was probably not the man’s name. ‘Pitchery’ is a Yandruwandha totem, and the man was indicating his connection to that totem. 143 Information about the use of this name is attributed to a great-grandson of one of the Yandruwandha who told it to members of the Wills family. John van de Kiste, William John Wills. Stroud, United Kingdom: History Press, 2011, p. 133.

148 ibid. 149 Aaron Paterson, Communication with the Royal Society, http:// burkeandwills150.info/index.php/ about-the-expedition/personalstories/116-yandruwandha-story. 150 Murgatroyd, p. 237. 151 ibid., p. 242.

153 ibid., p. 242. 154 ibid. 155 ibid., p. 249. 156 ibid. 157 William Wright, diary, Wednesday, 8 May, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2083/3b. 158 Murgatroyd, p. 246; Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King, question 1032. 159 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 319. 160 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 10 May 1861. 161 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Saturday, 11 May 1861. 162 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 24.

195

163 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861. 164 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 17 May 1861. 165 ibid. 166 Mitch Reardon, The Australian Geographic Book of Corner Country: Where Outback Queensland, NSW and SA Meet. Terrey Hills, NSW: Australian Geographic, 1995, p. 109. 167 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861. 168 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 24 May 1861. 169 ibid. 170 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861. 171 ibid. 172 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Monday, 27 May 1861. 173 ibid. 174 ibid. 175 ibid. 176 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Tuesday, 28 May 1861. 177 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Wednesday, 29 May 1861. 178 ibid. 179 ibid. 180 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King.

196

181 W.J. Wills, Dig Tree Note, Cooper’s Creek, 30 May 1861, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, SAFE 1. 182 ibid. 183 Aaron Paterson, Communication with the Royal Society, http:// burkeandwills150.info/index.php/ about-the-expedition/personalstories/116-yandruwandha-story.

199 ibid. 200 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Tuesday, 4 June 1861. 201 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861.

184 Based on John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861.

202 Wills lists the items saved from the fire in his diary entry for Tuesday, 25 June, which Wills mistakenly records as ‘June 23rd’ (W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide).

185 ibid.

203 Murgatroyd, p. 260.

186 ibid.

204 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 337.

187 ibid. 188 Aaron Paterson, Communication with the Royal Society, http:// burkeandwills150.info/index.php/ about-the-expedition/personalstories/116-yandruwandha-story. 189 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King, question 1054. 190 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 31 May 1861. 191 ibid. 192 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Saturday, 1 June 1861. 193 ibid. 194 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Sunday, 2 June 1861. 195 ibid. 196 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Monday, 3 June 1861. 197 ibid. 198 ibid.

205 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Saturday, 8 June 1861. 206 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Thursday, 13 June 1861. 207 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Wednesday, 12 June 1861. 208 John W. Earl and Barry V. McCleary, ‘Mystery of the Poisoned Expedition’, Nature, vol. 368, 1994, pp. 683–684. 209 Thomas John Bergin, Courage and Corruption: An Analysis of the Burke and Wills Expedition and the Subsequent Royal Commission of Enquiry, MA Thesis, University of New England, 1982. 210 Murgatroyd, pp. 261–264. 211 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 26 [sic] June 1861. (During the last four days, Wills wrongly recorded the dates in his diary. The above entry was actually recorded on 28 June.)

212 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Thursday, 20 June 1861. 213 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 21 June 1861. 214 Interview with William Brahe, ‘With Burke & Wills: A Survivor’s Memories’, The Argus, 27 August 1910, p. 9. 215 ibid. 216 Alfred Howitt, President’s Inaugural Address
to the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science, Town Hall, Adelaide, 7 January 1907. 217 ibid. 218 ibid. 219 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Monday, 24 June 1861. 220 ibid. 221 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Tuesday, 23 [sic] June 1861. (Diary entry actually recorded 25 June.) 222 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Wednesday, 24 [sic] June 1861. (Diary entry actually recorded 26 June.)

227 King knew where Wills’ sympathies lay. At the Royal Commission he suddenly blurted out that he wished to state that Wills’ diaries contained ‘no sign of religion’. The explorers carried bibles and prayer books and occasionally read them on the journey to and from Carpentaria. The Commissioners made no comment on this outburst and moved on to other matters.

239 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861.

228 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King.

242 ibid.

229 W.J. Wills, Journal of Trip from Cooper’s Creek towards Adelaide, diary entry, Friday, 26 [sic] June 1861. (Diary entry actually recorded 28 June.) 230 ibid. 231 ibid. 232 ibid. 233 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861. 234 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 337. 235 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861.

223 ibid.

236 The letter appears in Frank Clune, Dig. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1943, p. 199.

224 Wills’ cousin Harry le Vescompte died on Sir John Franklin’s famous 1847 Arctic expedition, in the Erebus, to search for the NorthWest Passage.

237 Robert O’Hara Burke, last note, dated 26 and 28 June 1861, original held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, SAFE 1; Murgatroyd, pp. 272–273.

225 Alan Moorehead, Cooper’s Creek. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1963, p. 143.

238 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Minutes of Evidence: John King, question 1714. The quotation is from the Book of Common Prayer, which both King and Burke had, on occasion, read together.

226 Wills (ed.), A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, p. 333.

240 Andrew Jackson, Robert O’Hara Burke & the Australian Exploring Expedition of 1860. London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1862, preface. 241 John King, Narrative as Told to Alfred Howitt at the Cooper Depot, September 1861.

243 ibid. 244 ibid. 245 ibid. 246 This forms part of the research going on at the School of Behavioural Sciences and Humanities at the University of Ballarat, under Fred Cahir, Coordinator of Indigenous Studies at the University of Ballarat; Aaron Paterson, a descendant of the Yandruwandha people of Innamincka, Nappa Merrie. I spoke to them both about this on Radio National’s ‘Bush Telegraph’, 21 April 2011. 247 Alfred Howitt, diary, Sunday, 15 September 1861, original item held at State Library of Victoria, MS13071, Box 2085/6a, item 1. 248 Alfred Howitt, diary, Wednesday, 18 September 1861. 249 1 Corinthians 15:12. 250 ibid. 251 Victoria, Parliament, Burke and Wills Commission of Enquiry, Report of the Commissioners. 252 William Howitt, The History of Discovery in Australia, Tasmania and New Zealand, vol. 2. London: Longman, 1865, quoted by Bonyhady, p. 225.

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Editor’s note: Pages from William Wills’ last diary, in Papers Relating to the Burke and Wills Expedition, 1860–1861, MS 30, Manuscripts Collection, appear throughout the book. The diary can be viewed at http://nla.gov.au/nla.ms-ms30-7.

COVER Nicholas Chevalier (artist, 1828–1902), James Charles Armytage (engraver, 1802–1897) Return of Burke and Wills to Coopers Creek c. 1874 print from engraving; 19.5 x 26.5 cm plate in Australia, vol. 7, by Edwin Carter Booth (London: Virtue & Co., c. 1874) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an7372844

INTRODUCTION opposite page 1 Map of the Eastern Part of Australia Showing the Route of Messrs. Burke and Wills from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria (London: Henry Hansard, 1862) coloured map; 48.5 x 30.9 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm2840 page 1 Portrait of Burke and Wills, 1862 in Wood Engravings Published in Victoria, Australia, Exhibited by the Commissioners of the International Exhibition, 1873 (Melbourne: The Commissioners, 1873) album of prints from engravings; 42.5 x 29 cm (or smaller) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an10267866-27 page 2 Ian Rolfe (b. 1953) Cooper Creek, Innamincka 2011 colour digital print Courtesy Ian Rolfe

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page 13

A Tribute to the Memory of Burke and Wills 1862 broadside; 57 cm (Sydney: W.T. Baker, 1862) Australian Rare Books Collection nla.aus-f7699

John Culf Totnes 2004 colour digital print Courtesy John Culf

page 5 Dr William Wills (editor, 1800–1889) A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria: From the Journals and Letters of William John Wills (London: Richard Bentley, 1863) Australian Rare Books Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn2613690 page 8 A Breastplate from the Victorian Exploration Committee Presented to the Yandruwandha People of Cooper Creek as a Token of Appreciation for the Care they Extended to Burke, Wills and King brass plate; 20.7 x 9.3 cm Courtesy National Museum of Australia page 9 Jon Rhodes (b. 1947) The Charles Summers Monument, Swanston Street, Melbourne 2001 gelatin silver print; 26.9 x 17.9 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an23407082

WILLIAM WILLS page 12 Edward Gilks (born c. 1822) William John Wills, Astronomer and Surveyor to the Victorian Exploration Expedition, Died at Coopers Creek about 2nd July, 1861 lithograph; 23.1 x 16.6 cm (Melbourne: Edward Gilks, 1861) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an9869835

page 14 Smith Evans The Crystal Palace Game, a Voyage around the World, an Entertaining Excursion in Search of Knowledge Whereby Geography is Made Easy (detail) c. 1851 coloured map mounted on linen; 45.5 x 64.7 cm Maps Collection nla.map-nk2981 page 15 top Eugene von Guerard (1811–1901) Koort Koort-Nong Homestead, near Camperdown, Victoria 1860 oil on canvas; 50.8 x 83.9 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an2253040 pages 10–11, page 15 bottom Robert Hoddle (1794–1881) Unidentified Coastal Landscape between 1823 and 1881 watercolour and pencil; 17.5 x 28.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3289503 page 16 W.G. Wall, after S.T. Gill Great Collins Street, Looking from Russell Street, Melbourne 1854 watercolour; 23 x 34.4 Pictures Collection nla.pic-an5695203

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page 27

page 32 top

Samuel Thomas Gill (1818–1880) Tin Dish Washing lithograph; 19.3 x 15.8 cm plate from Victoria Gold Diggings and Diggers as They Are, pt 2 (Melbourne: Macartney & Galbraith, 1852) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an7537646-1

Portrait of John Macdougall [i.e. McDouall] Stuart 1860s sepia-toned photograph; 9.1 x 5.8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3792895

William Strutt (1825–1915) Camels for the Exploring Expedition, Melbourne, July 1860 in Drawings and Photographs of Burke and Wills’ Exploring Expedition watercolour, ink and pencil William Strutt Collection, DL PXX 4/16b Courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales

page 20 top Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) Donati’s Comet over Flagstaff Hill Observatory, Melbourne, 11 October 1858 lithograph; 12.9 x 20.4 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8534806 page 20 bottom Alfred Angot (1848–1924) Melbourne: Aurora with Arcs and Corona Australis figure 15 in The Aurora Borealis (London: R. Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., Ltd, 1896) Overseas Monograph Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn976616

BACKGROUND TO THE EXPEDITION pages 22–23, 24–25 De Gruchy and Leigh Panoramic View of Melbourne, Victoria 1863 hand-coloured lithograph; 31.3 x 194.2 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an6016135 page 26 Tim Rudman Cooper Creek in Flood at the Birdsville Track 2011 colour digital print Courtesy Tim Rudman

page 28 Nicholas Chevalier (1828–1902) The Great Australian Exploration Race page 124 in Punch (Melbourne), 18 November 1860 Newspaper Collection nla.cat-vn1625521 page 29 left The Royal Society of Victoria’s 1859 Building in Victoria Street, Melbourne (La Trobe Street Entrance), Designed by Leading Architect Joseph Reed colour digital print Courtesy The Royal Society of Victoria page 29 right James F. Armstrong (active c. 1879–1940) Portrait of Baron Ferdinand Jakob Heinrich von Mueller, ca. 1879 black and white photograph; 14.5 x 10.4 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an23514205 page 30 William Strutt (1825–1915) Portrait of Robert O’Hara Burke c. 1860 watercolour; 43.8 x 29.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3874535 page 31 Samuel Thomas Gill (1818–1880) Convivial Diggers in Melbourne 1852 lithograph; 15.6 x 19.4 cm plate from Victoria Gold Diggings and Diggers as They Are, pt 2 (Melbourne: Macartney & Galbraith, 1852) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an7537677

page 32 bottom William Strutt (1825–1915) The Camels for Exploring Expedition, Just Landed at Melbourne, July 1860 in Drawings and Photographs of Burke and Wills’ Exploring Expedition watercolour, ink and pencil William Strutt Collection, DL PXX 4/16c Courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales page 33 Victorian Exploring Expedition Party page 8 in The Argus, Melbourne, 6 July 1860 nla.gov.au/nla.news-page200265 Courtesy State Library of New South Wales

KEY MEMBERS OF THE EXPEDITION pages 34–35 The Burke and Wills Australian Exploring Expedition 1862 wood engraving; 40 x 27 cm (London: Illustrated London News, 1 February 1862) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8960212 page 36 Portraits of Australian Explorers R. O’H. Burke, W.J. Wills, C. Gray, John King (detail) 1880s lithograph; 13.5 x 19 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an9025868

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William Strutt (1825–1915) Portrait of Robert O’Hara Burke 1860 pencil and wash drawing; 27.5 x 21.4 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3211987

Frederick Schoenfeld (c. 1810–1860) Ludwig Becker (detail) 1850s lithograph; 18.2 x 14.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an9455402

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page 44 top

William Bardwell (active 1858–1895) Julia Matthews (detail) between 1858 and 1866 albumen silver carte-de-visite photographic print; 10.7 x 6.5 cm H10272 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

William Strutt (1825–1915) Brahe of Burke’s Party, December 1861 (detail) in Drawings and Photographs of Burke and Wills’ Exploring Expedition watercolour, ink and pencil William Strutt Collection, DL PXX 3/10a Courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales

William Strutt (1825–1915) The Parting Cheer: Richard O’Hara Burke, at the Head of the Exploring Expedition Leaving Royal Park 20th Augt. 1860 between 1860 and 1900 photomechanical reproduction; 13.5 x 23 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an14483372

page 39 William Strutt (1825–1915) Mr Landells and Little Dog Weighing 2 lbs 1860 in The Exploring Expedition Sketchbook, Royal Park, Melbourne, Victoria Courtesy Parliamentary Library of Victoria page 40 De Gruchy and Leigh Portrait of William John Wills (detail) c. 1861 lithograph; 29.8 x 25.4 Pictures Collection nla.pic-an9869881 page 41 top Rhodanthe moschata plant specimen collected by Hermann Beckler Courtesy National Herbarium of Victoria, Royal Botanic Gardens Melbourne page 41 bottom Olearia muelleri plant specimen collected by Hermann Beckler Courtesy National Herbarium of Victoria, Royal Botanic Gardens Melbourne

page 44 bottom De Gruchy and Leigh Portrait of John King (detail) c. 1865 lithograph; 19 x 13.6 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an22761712 page 45 De Gruchy and Leigh Charles Gray (detail) between 1860 and 1879 lithograph; 10.1 x 6.4 cm H37475/33 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

MELBOURNE TO MENINDEE page 48 Samuel Calvert (1828–1913) Exploration Expedition, the Start from the Royal Park (detail) 1860 print from wood engraving; 22 x 18.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8957572 pages 46–47, 49 Nicholas Chevalier (1828–1902) Memorandum of the Start of the Exploring Expedition 1860 oil on canvas; 97.4 x 153.2 cm Courtesy Art Gallery of South Australia

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page 52 William Strutt (1825–1915) Encampment of the Exploring Party 21 August 1860 in Drawings and Photographs of Burke and Wills’ Exploring Expedition albumen print William Strutt Collection, DL PXX 3/8a Courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales page 53 The Burke and Wills Australian Exploring Expedition, Departure of the Expedition from the Royal Park, Melbourne, Aug. 20, 1860 print from wood engraving; 27.3 x 40 cm (London: The Illustrated London News, 1 February 1862) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8960218 page 54 William Strutt (1825–1915) East Indian Camel Driver, December 1861 (detail) in Drawings and Photographs of Burke and Wills’ Exploring Expedition watercolour, ink and pencil William Strutt Collection, DL PXX 3/10b Courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales page 56 Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) Crossing the Terrick-Terrick Plains, Aug. 29. 60 1860 watercolour and ink; 12.5 x 17.7 cm H16486 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

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J.M. Bowler and J.W. Magee Geomorphic Map of Mallee figure 1 in ‘Geomorphology of the Mallee Region in Semi-Arid Northern Victoria and Western New South Wales’, Proceedings of the Royal Society of Victoria, vol. 90 (Melbourne: Stillwell and Co., 1978) Australian Rare Books Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn2269238 Courtesy James Bowler

George Lacy (c. 1816–1878) Burke and Wills Expedition at the Campaspe near Barnadown, 1860 watercolour; 38.7 x 64.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3103251

De Gruchy and Leigh Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray Which They Accomplished on the 11th February 1861: With the Course of Howitt and Party to Trace the Remains of the Expedition (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, 1861) coloured map; 47 x 24.1 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm906

page 59 Mr Burke’s Most Obedient in Punch (Melbourne), 23 August 1860 Newspaper Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn1625521 page 61 Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) At the Camp ‘Bilwaka’ Darling Oct. 9. 60. The Doctors and the Artists Tent 1860 watercolour; 16.8 x 12.1 cm H16486 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

MENINDEE TO THE DEPOT page 64 James McKain Meek (1815–1899) General Map of Australia Shewing the Routes of the Explorers: Sketched from the Map Published by the Victorian Government Nov. 23rd 1861; to Which Is Added the Tracks of the Steam Communication Now Existing between the Principal Sea Ports in Continental Australia coloured map; 52.4 x 72.8 cm (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, c. 1861) Maps Collection nla.map-rm869

page 66 Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) Portrait of Dick: The Brave and Gallant Native Guide. Darling Depôt Decb. 21. 60 1860 watercolour and ink; 14.1 x 22.2 cm H16486 Courtesy State Library of Victoria page 67 Surveyor’s Scale Rule c. 1860 ivory and leather; 16.5 x 3.4 cm H530 Courtesy State Library of Victoria page 68 Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) Observational Views of Donati’s Comet, 1858, 3 lithograph; 22.2 x 13.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn5815582

page 72 Frank Clune (1893–1971) Latitude 29 Signpost Where the Burke & Wills 1860 Expedition Crossed into Queensland 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506771 page 73 John Benwell The Cooper Creek at Innamincka 2004 colour digital print Reproduced under Creative Commons license creativecommons.org/licenses/ by-nd/2.0

page 69

THE RACE TO THE GULF

Site of Burke and Wills Most Northerly Camp on the Byno River between 1899 and 1928 black and white print; 10.7 x 17.4 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3625316

page 76

page 70 De Gruchy and Leigh Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray Which They Accomplished on the 11th February 1861: With the Course of Howitt and Party to Trace the Remains of the Expedition (detail) (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, 1861) coloured map; 47 x 24.1 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm906

Samuel Thomas Gill (1818–1880), after sketch by Charles Sturt (1795–1869) Native Village in the Northern Interior of S. Australia c. 1846 watercolour; 15.1 x 22 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an2377287 pages 74–75, 78 Samuel Thomas Gill (1818–1880), after sketch by Charles Sturt (1795–1869) The Sandy Ridges of Central Australia c. 1846 watercolour; 15.2 x 22.9 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an2377285

201

page 79

page 84

page 91

Captain Charles Sturt (detail) 1895 print from wood engraving; 15.2 x 10.3 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an9941030

Frank Clune (1893–1971) Bynoe River, Queensland, 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506782

William Strutt (1825–1915) Saltbush and Pigface c. 1860 pencil and wash drawing; 25.9 x 25.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3232006

page 80

page 86

pages 88–89, 92 top

Frank Hurley (1885–1962) The Diamantina River, West Queensland, Normally a Chain of Ponds That Expand into Broad Lakes during Rains between 1910 and 1962 glass plate negative Pictures Collection nla.pic-an23478007

De Gruchy and Leigh Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray Which They Accomplished on the 11th February 1861: With the Course of Howitt and Party to Trace the Remains of the Expedition (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, 1861) coloured map; 47 x 24.1 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm906

William Westall (1781–1850) Groote Eylandt, a View 1803 in Drawings by William Westall (London: They Royal Commonwealth Society, 1962) pencil drawing; 18.4 x 27.1 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an4565161

page 81 left William Oswald Hodgkinson (1835–1900) Fort Nares, Diamantina River c. 1875 lithograph; 9.2 x 16.6 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3262259 page 81 right Samuel White Sweet (1825–1886) Camels Camped between 1869 and 1889 gelatin silver print; 20 x 14.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an20886593-41 page 82 John Flynn (1880–1951) View of Hillside with Stars in the Background: A Lantern Slide from John Flynn’s Missionary Days in Gippsland 1906–7 colour lantern slide: 8.2 x 8.2 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an24522005 page 83 Lionel Lindsay (1874–1961) Head of a Camel, 1929 drypoint print; plate mark 9.6 x 7.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an10711273

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page 87 De Gruchy and Leigh Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray Which They Accomplished on the 11th February 1861: With the Course of Howitt and Party to Trace the Remains of the Expedition (detail) (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, 1861) coloured map; 47 x 24.1 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm906

FROM THE GULF TO SILENCE page 90 Jon Rhodes (b. 1947) The Dig Tree, North Side, Cooper Creek, Qld (detail) 2001 gelatin silver print; 15.8 x 23.6 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an23399223

page 92 bottom De Gruchy and Leigh Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray Which They Accomplished on the 11th February 1861: With the Course of Howitt and Party to Trace the Remains of the Expedition (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, 1861) coloured map; 47 x 24.1 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm906 page 93 De Gruchy and Leigh Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray Which They Accomplished on the 11th February 1861: With the Course of Howitt and Party to Trace the Remains of the Expedition (detail) (Melbourne: De Gruchy & Leigh, 1861) coloured map; 47 x 24.1 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm906

page 95 left

page 100

page 109 left

Frank Clune (1893–1971) Seated Camel, Australia 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506765

Frank Clune (1893–1971) Marked Tree, DIG, the Tree at Burke & Wills Camp 65 on Cooper Creek, Queensland, Marking the Cache of Food Left on the Morning of 21 April 1861 by Brahe for Burke and His Party if They Returned from the Gulf of Carpentaria, 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506785

C.E. Fry and Son, London Sir Augustus Charles Gregory (detail) 1890 photomechanical print; 14 x 10 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an10791281-2

page 95 right Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) Carpet Python, Morelia variegata plate 13 in Prodromus of the Zoology of Victoria, or, Figures and Descriptions of the Living Species of All Classes of the Victorian Indigenous Animals, vol. 1, by Frederick McCoy (Melbourne: John Ferres, 1885–1890) Australian Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn850045 page 96 Compass Used by C. Phillips on Howitt Relief Expedition, 1861 c. 1860 brass; 6.1 cm (diam.) H13191 Courtesy State Library of Victoria page 97 Peterdownunder The Burke and Wills Dig Tree at Bullah Bullah Waterhole, on Coopers Creek, Queensland, Australia 2008 colour digital print Reproduced under Creative Commons license creativecommons.org/licenses/ by-sa/3.0 page 98 Gold James Murray 5243 Pocket Watch Used by William John Wills Courtesy National Museum of Australia page 99 Glass Spirit Level and Metal Case c. 1860 sealed glass tube, metal; 11.5 cm (overall length) H2010.199/2 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

FROM THE DEPOT TO THE COOPER page 104 Cooper’s Creek, Looking N.W. Burke, Wills, and King, at the Desert Depot, 1862 in Wood Engravings Published in Victoria, Australia, Exhibited by the Commissioners of the International Exhibition, 1873 (Melbourne: The Commissioners, 1873) album of prints from engravings; 42.5 x 29 cm (or smaller) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an10267866-31 pages 102–103, 107 John Longstaff (1861–1941) Arrival of Burke, Wills and King at the Deserted Camp at Cooper’s Creek, Sunday Evening, 21st April 1861 1907 oil on canvas; 285.7 x 433 cm Courtesy National Gallery of Victoria page 109 right Augustus Charles Gregory (1819–1905) Map Showing Part of Route Taken by North Australian Exploring Expedition under the Command of A.C. Gregory (detail) c. 1855 map on two sheets; 116.5 x 115.5 cm Maps Collection nla.map-rm2807

page 110 left Charles Darwin (1809–1882) cover of On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or, the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life (London: John Murray, 1859) Overseas Rare Books Collection nla.gen-vn4591931 page 110 right Charles Darwin (1809–1882) title page of On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or, the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life (London: John Murray, 1859) Overseas Rare Books Collection nla.gen-vn4591931 page 111 Nicholas Chevalier (1828–1902) Return of Burke and Wills to Coopers Creek (detail) 1868 oil on canvas; 89.2 x 120 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an2265463 page 113 Photograph of thermometer by iStockphoto. page 114 Neville William Cayley (1886–1950) Cockatiel, Leptolophus Hollandicus (detail) 1930s watercolour; 55.7 x 37.8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an6952700

203

page 115 left Frank Clune (1893–1971) Cooper Creek, South Australia, 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506796 page 115 right Frank Clune (1893–1971) Cooper Creek, New South Wales, 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506772 page 115 bottom Neville William Cayley (1886–1950) Galah (Eolophus Roseicapillus) (detail) 1930s watercolour; 55 x 37.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an7021903 page 116 Richard Green (b. 1940) Dawn at Lake Eyre, South Australia, 2000 (detail) digital colour print; 51 x 68 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn4831743 page 117 William Strutt (1825–1915) Indian Camel Hobbled, Royal Park, Melbourne Dec’ 23rd (detail) 1861 in Drawings and Photographs of Burke and Wills’ Exploring Expedition watercolour, ink and pencil William Strutt Collection, DL PXX 4/16a Courtesy Dixson Library, State Library of New South Wales

LEARNING FROM THE YANDRUWANDHA page 120 Historical Display Showcasing a Fishing Net, a Girdle and Two Pieces of Netting, Coopers Creek 1861 Sir Thomas Ramsay Collection, X87892 Courtesy Museum Victoria page 121

Ludwig Becker (c. 1808–1861) Watpipa the ‘Old Man’, Our Guide on Sep. 24. 60 (detail) 1860 watercolour, pen and ink; 12.5 x 12.5 cm H16486 Courtesy State Library of Victoria page 128 Aaron Paterson, Innamincka 2007 colour digital print Courtesy Aaron Peterson

Adam Forster (1848–1928) Duboisia myoporoides, New South Wales, 1923 watercolour; 39 x 28.8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an6180240

BRAHE AND WRIGHT IN SEARCH OF BURKE AND WILLS

page 122

page 132

Jon Rhodes (b. 1947) Nardoo (Marsilea drummondii) 2001 gelatin silver print; 8.7 x 23.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an23407404

William Oswald Hodgkinson (1835–1900) Koorliatto, New South Wales, 1861 (detail) in Album of Miss Eliza Younghusband, South Australia, 1856–1865, compiled by Eliza Younghusband pencil drawing; 15.7 x 15.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn4189024-s42

page 123 Arthur Groom (1904–1953) Aboriginal Australian Preparing Pituri or Native Tobacco for Chewing, Northern Territory, 1947 black and white print; 8.2 x 14.5 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn4468637 pages 118–119, 124 George Washington Lambert (1873–1930) Burke and Wills on the Way to Mount Hopeless 1907 watercolour; 26.2 x 38.5 cm Courtesy Bendigo Art Gallery page 125 John Flynn (1880–1951) Camel Team Resting in Front of Fully Loaded Wagon between 1912 and 1951 sepia-toned print; 13.2 x 7.6 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an24722299

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page 127

pages 130–131, 133 William Oswald Hodgkinson (1835–1900) Bulla, Queensland, 1861 in Album of Miss Eliza Younghusband, South Australia, 1856–1865, compiled by Eliza Younghusband watercolour; 21.8 x 13.4 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn4189024-s46 page 134 William Alfred Delamotte (1775–1863) Leg from a Patient Suffering from Scurvy between 1841 and 1851 watercolour; 25.1 x 35.7 cm St Bartholomew’s Hospital Archives & Museum, London Courtesy Wellcome Library

page 136

page 144

page 151

Joyce Evans (b. 1929) Burke and Wills Camp and Tree, Menindee 1996 gelatin silver print; 13.6 x 20.6 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an11923827-18

Norman Barnett Tindale (1900–1993) Map Showing the Distribution of the Aboriginal Tribes of Australia (detail) 1940 coloured map; 64 x 76 cm (Adelaide: Government Photolithographer, 1940) Maps Collection nla.map-gmod91

Ebenezer Edward Gostelow (1866–1944) The Australian Crow (Corvus cecilae) (detail) 1937 watercolour; 30.5 x 51 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3814783

FROM STRZELECKI CREEK TO NOWHERE page 140 Harden Sidney Melville (1824–1894) Strzelecki’s Creek opposite page 91 in Narrative of an Expedition into Central Australia, Performed under the Authority of Her Majesty’s Government, during the Years 1844, 5, and 6: Together with a Notice of the Province of South Australia in 1847, vol. 2, by Charles Sturt (London: T. and W. Boone, 1849) Australian Rare Book Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn781016 page 141 Ebenezer Edward Gostelow (1866–1944) Blennodia Nasturtioides, Minuria Leptophylla, Linum Marginale, Marsilea Quadrifolia (Nardoo), Sisymbrium Cardaminoides (Milkmaid), Gnaphalium Purpurium, Broken Hill Region, New South Wales, Spring 1920 (detail) watercolour; 33.3 x 24 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an6135541 page 142 John Gould (1804–1881) Long-Haired or Plague Rat, Rattus Villosissimus, Prev Mus Longipilis (detail) plate 13 in The Mammals of Australia, vol. 3, by John Gould and H.C. Richter (London: John Gould and H.C. Richter, 1863) Australian Rare Books Collection nla.aus-vn760101

page 145 Norman Barnett Tindale (1900–1993) Map Showing the Distribution of the Aboriginal Tribes of Australia 1940 coloured map; 64 x 76 cm (Adelaide: Government Photolithographer, 1940) Maps Collection nla.map-gmod91 page 138–139, 147 Richard Woldendorp (b. 1927) Aerial View of Strzelecki Desert, April 2004 colour print; 49.9 x 70 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3239806 page 148 J.J. Crew Burke and Wills Monument, Melbourne (detail) c. 1874 print from engraving; sheet 26.5 x 19.5 cm title page in Australia, vol. 1, by Edwin Carton Booth (London: Virtue & Co., c. 1874) Pictures Collection nla.pic-an7370490 page 150 Andrew Leslie McKay (1909–1976) Aboriginal Gunya, with Reverend Les McKay’s Land Rover to the Right, Queensland, 1964 (detail) colour slide; 2.3 x 3.3 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn4181237

page 152 Colt Pocket Pistol, .31 Calibre, Patent No. 33619 1800s metal with wooden handle; 19.5 cm H15352 Courtesy State Library of Victoria page 154 William Strutt (1825–1915) Salt Bush 1850s pencil drawing; 25.7 x 20.3 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3241859

S TA R VAT I O N A N D D E AT H IN A LAND OF PLENTY page 158 William Strutt (1825–1915) King Grieving Over Burke pencil and watercolour Courtesy Victorian Parliamentary Library page 161 John William Lewin (1770–1819) Crested Pigeons (Ocyphaps lophotes), New South Wales, 1817 watercolour; 59.8 x 46.2 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an2970424 page 167 Arthur Bartholomew (1834–1909) Australian Bream plate 4 in Prodromus of the Zoology of Victoria, or, Figures and Descriptions of the Living Species of All Classes of the Victorian Indigenous Animals, vol. 1, by Frederick McCoy (Melbourne: John Ferres, 1885–1890) Australian Collection nla.gov.au/nla.cat-vn850045

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page 177

T H E A F T E R M AT H

William Wills (1834–1861) Letter to Dr William Wills 26 or 27 June 1861 Correspondence and Press Cuttings of William John Wills, 1839–1861 Courtesy State Library of Victoria, MS 9504

Stan Cross (1888–1977) By Sand and Saltbush: The Daring Exploit of Burke and Wills c. 1925 colour pen, ink and wash drawing; 57 x 46 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn4306031 Courtesy Simon Cross

page 186

pages 156–157, 172 Last Moments of Wills the Australian Explorer c. 1861 print from engraving; plate mark 17.7 x 22.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8960252 page 174 Frederick Proeschel (1809–1870) Map of South Australia 1863 coloured map; 83.6 x 52.1 cm plate 4 in Atlas, Containing a Map of Australasia by Frederick Proeschel (Victoria: Brown & Slight, 1863) Maps Collection nla.map-raa13-s40

page 187

THE SEARCH PARTY page 180 Eugene Montagu Scott (1835–1909) The Finding of King, the Survivor (detail) 1865 print from wood engraving; 10.7 x 27 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8960194 pages 178–179, 181 William Strutt (1825–1915) The Burial of Burke 1911 oil on canvas; 122 x 204 cm H13087 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

page 175

page 182

Frederick Proeschel (1809–1870) Map of South Australia (detail) 1863 coloured map; 83.6 x 52.1 cm plate 4 in Atlas, Containing a Map of Australasia by Frederick Proeschel (Victoria: Brown & Slight, 1863) Maps Collection nla.map-raa13-s40

William Strutt (1825–1915) Sketches for the Burial of Burke c. 1861 pencil and wash drawing; 15.7 x 21.2 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an3241668

page 176 Eugene Montagu Scott (1835–1909) Natives Discovering the Body of William John Wills, the Explorer, at Coopers Creek, June 1861 (detail) c. 1862 oil on canvas; 85 x 110.1 cm H6694 Courtesy State Library of Victoria

206

Burke and Wills Funeral Car (detail) 1863 print from wood engraving; 13.3 x 21.7 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8960204

page 183 The Argus Office, Melbourne The Victorian Exploration Expedition: The Continent Crossed: Death of Burke and Wills: Their Remains Found, 2 November 1861 black and white sheet; 33.3 x 15.9 cm Papers Relating to the Burke and Wills Expedition (1860–1861) Manuscripts Collection nla.ms-ms30-9

Order of the Funeral Procession of Burke and Wills, to Take Place on Wednesday, 21st January, 1863 printed handbill; 23 x 18.5 cm H6419 Courtesy State Library of Victoria page 188 Frank Clune (1893–1971) Inscription on the Burke & Wills Memorial Cairn Erected Where Their Expedition Started on 20 August 1860 in Royal Park, Melbourne, 1935 glass lantern slide; 8.3 x 8 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-vn3506767 pages 184–185, 189 Public Funeral of the Australian Explorers Burke and Wills, 1863 print from wood engraving; sheet 17.3 x 24.3 cm in The Illustrated London News, 25 April 1863 Pictures Collection nla.pic-an8960207

ENDNOTES pages 190–191 Henricus Leonardus van den Houten (1801–1879) The Exploring Party Coming Upon an Encampment of Natives (detail) c. 1861 oil on canvas; 132 x 220 cm Pictures Collection nla.pic-an14263880

INDEX A

B

Aaron Paterson, Innamincka 128 Aboriginal Australian Preparing Pituri or Native Tobacco for Chewing, Northern Territory, 1947 123 Aboriginal guides 66, 67, 71, 133 Aboriginal Gunya, with Reverend Les McKay’s Land Rover to the Right, Queensland, 1964 150 Aboriginal people 1–2, 76, 77, 134, 145 anger at exploring party 134 attitudes towards 85–86, 110, 125, 127, 142, 152 Brahe’s mistrust of 100 dealings with 85–86, 127–129 map showing tribal distribution 144, 145 traditional routes 146 see also Aboriginal guides; Yandruwandha people Aboriginal wordlists 5, 117, 149 Aerial View of Strzelecki Desert, April 2004 138–139, 147 Angot, Alfred. Melbourne: Aurora with Arcs and Corona Australia 20 Archer, William Henry 7 Argus newspaper 183 Armstrong, James F. Portrait of Baron Ferdinand Jakob Heinrich von Mueller, ca. 1879 29 Arrival of Burke, Wills and King at the Deserted Camp at Cooper’s Creek, Sunday Evening, 21st April 1861 102–103, 107 artefacts from the expedition 99 artists see Becker, Ludwig; Strutt, William; Sturt, Charles astronomical observations 20, 21, 57, 68, 82, 85, 91, 98 At the Camp ‘Bilwaka’ Darling Oct. 9. 60. The Doctors and the Artists Tent 61 auroras 20, 21 Australian Bream 167 The Australian Crow (Corvus cecilae) 151

Ballarat 18 Balranald 57, 59 Bardwell, William. Julia Matthews 38 Bartholomew, Arthur. Australian Bream 167 Becker, Ludwig 56, 59, 134 biography 42 At the Camp ‘Bilwaka’ Darling Oct. 9. 60. The Doctors and the Artists Tent 61 Carpet Python, Morelia variegata 95 Crossing the Terrick-Terrick Plains, Aug. 29, 60 56 death of 137 Donati’s Comet over Flagstaff Hill Observatory, Melbourne, 11 October 1858 20 illness 134 injuries 67 Observational Views of Donati’s Comet 68 Portrait of Dick: The Brave and Gallant Native Guide, Darling Depot Decb. 21. 60 66 portraits 42, 59 Watpipa the ‘Old Man,’ Our Guide on Sep. 24. 60 127 Beckler, Hermann 134 biography 41 botanical specimens 41 resignation from expedition 60 Benwell, John. The Cooper Creek at Innamincka 73 Bergin, Tom 160 beri-beri 105, 160, 163 Billy (horse) 85, 86, 99 birds 79, 85, 151 see also Australian crow; cockatiels; crested pigeons; galahs Blennodia Nasturtiodes, Minuria Leptophylla, Linum Marginale, Marsilea Quadrifolia (Nardoo)... 141 Boocha (camel) 96 botanical collecting 41 Bowler, J.M. and Magee, J.W. Geomorphic Map of Mallee 58

Brahe, William 67, 69, 165 biography 44 Brahe of Burke’s Party, December 1861 44 dealings with Aboriginal people 100 departure from depot camp 101 journey to Menindee 133 left at Balranald 59 meeting with Howitt 181 portrait 44 return to depot camp 137 to stay at depot camp 72 bream 167 A Breastplate from the Victorian Exploration Committee Presented to the Yandruwandha People of Cooper Creek as a Token of Appreciation... 8 Bruce, John 31, 38 Bulla, Queensland, 1861 130–131, 133 Bullah Bullah see depot camp Bulloo River conflict with Aboriginal people 130–131, 133, 134 The Burial of Burke 178–179, 181, 182 Burke, Robert O’Hara 172 altercation with Gray 96 appointment as expedition leader 31 biography 37–38 burial 3, 178–179, 181 burial by Howitt 183 death of 158, 173 diary 7 dislike of Becker 59 illness 92, 151, 160 infatuation with Julia Matthews 38 leadership shortcomings 4, 31, 33, 71, 106, 137, 187–8 portraits 1, 3, 30, 34, 36, 37 recordkeeping 77 standing over dying Wills 172 tribute to 3 The Burke and Wills Australian Exploring Expedition 34–35 The Burke and Wills Australian Exploring Expedition, Departure of the Expedition from the Royal Park, Melbourne, Aug. 20, 1860 53

207

Burke and Wills Camp and Tree, Menindee 136 The Burke and Wills Dig Tree at Bullah Bullah Waterhole, on Coopers Creek, Queensland, Australia 97 Burke and Wills expedition see Victorian Exploring Expedition Burke and Wills expedition at the Campaspe near Barnadown, 1860 65 Burke and Wills Funeral Car 186 Burke and Wills legend 2, 188 Burke and Wills Monument, Melbourne 148 Burke and Wills on the Way to Mount Hopeless 118–119, 124 By Sand and Saltbush: The Daring Exploit of Burke and Wills 177 Bynoe River 69, 84

C Calvert, Samuel. Exploration Expedition, the Start from the Royal Park 48 camels 32, 33, 59, 81, 83, 85 acquisition of 33, 39 Camel Team Resting in Front of Fully Loaded Wagon 125 Camels Camped 81 Camels for the Exploring Expedition, Melbourne, July 1860 32 The Camels for the Exploring Expedition, Just Landed at Melbourne, July 1960 32 death of 96, 114, 118–119, 124, 125 departing from Royal Park 48, 49 Indian Camel Hobbled, Royal Park, Melbourne, Dec’ 23rd 117 injuries caused by 78 loading of 50 Seated Camel, Australia 95 Wills’ opinion of 56 see also Boocha (camel); Golah Singh (camel); Landa (camel); Rajah (camel) Camp 9 110, 125, 137 Camp 119 (Little Bynoe River) 85 Captain Charles Sturt 79 Carpet Python, Morelia variegata 95

208

catfish 167 cattle routes 147 cawilchi (fish) 167 Cayley, Neville William Cockatiel, Leptolophus Hollandicus 114 Galah (Eolophus Roseicapillus) 115 Charles Gray 45 The Charles Summers Monument, Swanston Street, Melbourne 9 Chevalier, Nicholas The Great Australian Exploration Race 28 Memorandum of the Start of the Exploring Expedition 46–7, 49 Return of Burke and Wills to Coopers Creek 111 Chinsurah (ship) 33 chronometer watches 98 Clune, Frank 173 Bynoe River 85 Bynoe River, Queensland 84 camels 95 Cooper Creek, New South Wales, 1935 115 Cooper Creek, South Australia, 1935 115 Inscription on the Burke & Wills Memorial Cairn Erected Where Their Expedition Started on 20 August 1860 in Royal Park, Melbourne, 1935 188 Latitude 29 Signpost Where the Burke & Wills Expedition Crossed into Queensland 72 Marked Tree, DIG, the Tree at Burke & Wills Camp 65 on Cooper Creek... 100 plaque in Royal Park 188 Seated Camel, Australia 95 Cockatiel, Leptolophus Hollandicus 114 cold nights 164, 165 Collins Street (Melbourne) 16 Colt Pocket Pistol, .31 Calibre, Patent No. 33619 152 Compass used by C. Phillips on Howitt Relief Expedition, 1861 96

confrontations with Aboriginal people 134, 151–152, 155 Convivial Diggers in Melbourne 31 Coongie Lake 99 Cooper, Charles 26 Cooper Creek 2 arrival at 71 Arrival of Burke, Wills and King at the Deserted Camp at Cooper’s Creek, Sunday Evening, 21st April 1861 102–103, 107 Cooper Creek, New South Wales, 1935 115 Cooper Creek, South Australia, 1935 115 The Cooper Creek at Innamincka 73 Cooper Creek in Flood at the Birdsville Track 26 Cooper’s Creek, Looking N.W. Burke, Wills, and King, at the Desert Depot, 1862 104 description 1, 26 naming of 27 Corvus cecilae 151 crested pigeons 165 Crested Pigeons (Ocyphaps lophotes), New South Wales, 1817 161 Crew, J.J. Burke and Wills Monument, Melbourne 148 Cross, Stan. By Sand and Saltbush: The Daring Exploit of Burke and Wills 177 Crossing the Terrick-Terrick Plains, Aug. 29, 60 56 The Crystal Palace Game, a Voyage around the World, an Entertaining Excursion in Search of Knowledge Whereby Geography is Made Easy 14 Culf, John. Totnes 13 Cullyamurra 78 cupi (fish) 167

D Darwin, Charles. On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection... 110 Dawn at Lake Eyre, South Australia, 2000 116

De Gruchy and Leigh Charles Gray 45 Panoramic View of Melbourne, Victoria 22–23, 24–25 Portrait of John King 44 Portrait of William John Wills 40 Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray... 70, 71, 86, 87, 92, 93 Delamotte, William Alfred. Leg from a Patient Suffering from Scurvy 134 Deniliquin 17 depot camp 72, 100–101, 105 Arrival of Burke, Wills and King at the Deserted Camp at Cooper’s Creek, Sunday Evening, 21st April 1861 102–103, 107 Brahe and Wright return to 137 reached by search party 181 depot party 5 Diamantina River 78, 80, 81 The Diamantina River, West Queensland, Normally a Chain of Ponds That Expand into Broad Lakes during Rains 80 diaries 7 Dick (Aboriginal guide) 66, 67, 71, 133 Dig Tree 72, 90, 97 inscription 100 see also depot camp The Dig Tree, North Side, Cooper Creek, Qld 90 Donati’s Comet over Flagstaff Hill Observatory, Melbourne, 11 October 1858 20 Duboisia myoporoides, New South Wales, 1923 121 Duboisia (plant) 121, 123 Duffy, Grace Gavan 7

E Earle, John 160 East Indian Camel Driver, December 1861 54 Encampment of the Exploring Party 52 Eolophus roseicapillus 115 Evans, Joyce. Burke and Wills Camp and Tree, Menindee 136

Evans, Smith. The Crystal Palace Game, a Voyage around the World, an Entertaining Excursion in Search of Knowledge Whereby Geography is Made Easy 14 Exploration Expedition, the Start from the Royal Park 48 exploration of the interior Adelaide-Melbourne rivalry 26 early proposals 25 The Exploring Party Coming Upon an Encampment of Natives 190–191 Eyre, John Edward 147

F Ferguson, Charles 49, 54–55, 56 biography 43 sacked by Burke 59 The Finding of King, the Survivor 180 fire in camp 155 firearms 152 fishes 167, 167 see also food fishing nets 120 Flavialoas richardsoni 167 Flynn, John Camel Team Resting in Front of Fully Loaded Wagon 125 View of Hillside with Stars in the Background 82 food 1, 50, 100, 142 abundance at Deniliquin 18 birds 165, 173 camels 96 fishes 111, 115, 121, 122, 128, 150, 153, 154, 165, 167 horses 99 jerky 94 left at Dig Tree 101 mussels 150 nardoo 115, 122, 141, 146, 150, 154 padlu bean 141 rats 127 shortages of 91, 121, 146 small mammals 165 snakes 92 for trip north from Camp 65 77 see also starvation

Forster, Adam. Duboisia myoporoides, New South Wales, 1923 121 Fort Nares, Diamantina River 81 Fry, C.E. and Son. Sir Augustus Charles Gregory 109 funeral for Burke and Wills 183, 184–185, 186, 187, 189

G Galah (Eolophus roseicapillus) 115 galahs 115 General Map of Australia Shewing the Routes of the Explorers... 64 Geomorphic Map of Mallee Region 58 Giles, Ernest 97 Gilks, Edward. William John Wills, Astronomer and Surveyor to the Victorian Exploration Expedition, Died at Coopers Creek about 2nd July, 1861 12 Gill, Samuel Thomas 31, 77 Convivial Diggers in Melbourne 31 Native Village in the Northern Interior of S. Australia 76 The Sandy Ridges of Central Australia 74–5, 78 Tin Dish Washing 19 Glass Spirit Level and Metal Case 99 Golah Singh (camel) 81, 82, 92 Gold James Murray Pocket Watch Used by William John Wills 98 gold rushes 17, 19, 31, 43 Gostelow, Ebenezer Edward The Australian Crow (Corvus cecilae) 151 Blennodia Nasturtiodes, Minuria Leptophylla, Linum Marginale, Marsilea Quadrifolia (Nardoo)... 141 Gould, John. Long-Haired or Plague Rat, Rattus villosissimus, Prev. Mus longipilis 142 Gray, Charlie 67, 86, 92 biography 45 burial 100 death 99 illness 95–96, 99, 105 portraits 36, 45 recruitment to the expedition 57

209

Gray’s Creek 78 The Great Australian Exploration Race 28 Great Collins Street, Looking from Russell Street, Melbourne 16 Great Exhibition 1851 14 Green, Richard. Dawn at Lake Eyre, South Australia, 2000 116 Gregory, Augustus Charles 27, 51, 97, 106, 109, 145, 147 Map Showing Part of Route Taken by North Australian Exploring Expedition under the Command of A.C. Gregory 109 portrait 109 Groom, Arthur. Aboriginal Australian Preparing Pituri or Native Tobacco for Chewing, Northern Territory, 1947 123 Groote Eylandt, a View 92 Gulf of Carpentaria 86, 88–9, 92 gunyahs 76, 150 making use of 142 sharing with Aboriginal people 85, 128

H Head of a Camel, 1929 83 Hephaestus fulginosus 167 Historical Display Showcasing a Fishing Net, a Girdle and Two Pieces of Netting, Coopers Creek 120 Hoddle, Robert Melbourne surveys 16 sketch of early Melbourne 15 Unidentified Coastal Landscape 10–11 Hodgkinson, William Oswald 81 Bulla, Queensland, 1861 130–131, 133 Fort Nares, Diamantina River 81 Koorliatto, New South Wales, 1861 132 Holmes, Ray 98 horses 52, 133 as food 99 leaving Royal Park 48, 49, 53 see also Billy (horse) Hovell, William 16–17

210

Howitt, Alfred 165 burial of Burke 183 burial of Wills 182–183 compass 96 to lead search party 181 rescue party 3 retrieval of Burke and Wills’ remains 183 Howitt, William 188 Hume, Hamilton 16–17 Hurley, Frank Diamantina River 81 Hurley, Frank. The Diamantina River, West Queensland, Normally a Chain of Ponds That Expand into Broad Lakes during Rains 80

I Indian Camel Hobbled, Royal Park, Melbourne Dec’ 23rd 117 Innamincka 147 Inscription on the Burke & Wills Memorial Cairn Erected Where Their Expedition Started on 20 August 1860 in Royal Park, Melbourne, 1935 188

J Jandruwanta people see Yandruwandha people Julia Matthews 38

K kapi (fish) 167 Kennedy, Edmund 65 Khan, Belooch (camel driver) 54, 137 Khan, Esau (camel driver) 54 King, John 67, 150, 172, 177 biography 44–45 The Finding of King, the Survivor 180 King Grieving over Burke 158 papers 7 portraits 3, 36, 44 recruitment of 33 support for Burke 174 Koonchera waterhole 78, 79

Koorliatto, New South Wales, 1861 132 Koort Koort-Nong Homestead, near Camperdown, Victoria 15 Kyte, Ambrose 27

L Lacy, George. Burke and Wills expedition at the Campaspe near Barnadown, 1860 65 Lake Eyre 116 Lambert, George Washington. Burke and Wills on the Way to Mount Hopeless 118–119, 124 Landa (camel) 106, 112 death of 114 Landells, George 33 arguments with Burke 60 biography 39 portrait 39 resignation from expedition 60 Larkworthy, Falconer 31, 33 Last Moments of Wills the Australian Explorer 156–157, 172 Latitude 29 Signpost Where the Burke & Wills Expedition Crossed into Queensland 72 Leahy, Frank 96, 97 Leg from a Patient Suffering from Scurvy 134 Leichhardt, Ludwig 109 Leptolophus hollandicus 114 Letter to Dr William Wills 169 Lewin, John William. Crested Pigeons (Ocyphaps lophotes), New South Wales, 1817 161 Lindsay, Lionel. Head of a Camel, 1929 83 Little Bynoe River 85 Long-Haired or Plague Rat, Rattus villosissimus, Prev. Mus longipilis 142 Longstaff, John. Arrival of Burke, Wills and King at the Deserted Camp at Cooper’s Creek, Sunday Evening, 21st April 1861 102–103, 107 Ludwig Becker 42 Lysiphyllum gilvum 143

M Magnetic Observatory 21 Mahomet, Dost (camel driver) 54, 67, 101 injuries 78 Map of South Australia 174, 175 Map of the Eastern Part of Australia Showing the Route of Messrs. Burke and Wills from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria opposite page 1 Map Showing Part of Route Taken by North Australian Exploring Expedition under the Command of A.C. Gregory 109 Map Showing the Distribution of the Aboriginal Tribes of Australia 144, 145 Marked Tree, DIG, the Tree at Burke & Wills Camp 65 on Cooper Creek... 100 Marsilea (nardoo) 122, 141 Matthews, Julia 37–38 portrait 38 McCleary, Barry 160 McDonough, Thomas 67, 101 injuries 137 McKay, Andrew Leslie. Aboriginal Gunya, with Reverend Les McKay’s Land Rover to the Right, Queensland, 1964 150 meat jerky 94, 114, 141 Meek, James McKain. General Map of Australia Shewing the Routes of the Explorers... 64 Melbourne 22–23, 24–5 early settlement 15, 16, 17 Melbourne: Aurora with Arcs and Corona Australia 20 Melbourne Club 31 Melbourne Herbarium 41 Melville, Harden Sidney. Strzelecki’s Creek 140 Memorandum of the Start of the Exploring Expedition 46–7, 49 Menindee 136 expedition members left behind 67 Menindee Lakes 60, 67 meteorological observations 4, 7, 21, 57, 68, 91, 96, 112, 113, 159 Mitchell, Thomas 2, 17 monsoonal rains 91 Morelia variegata 95

Mount Hopeless 5, 106, 142, 147 Mountain (Aboriginal guide) 67, 133 Mr Burke’s Most Obedient 59 Mr Landells and Little Dog Weighing 2 lbs 39 Mr Shirt 134 Mueller, Ferdinand 29, 29, 41 Mulkonbat 78 Murgatroyd, Sarah 155, 160

N narcotic plant (Duboisia) 123, 125 nardoo 8, 141, 145, 148, 151 Nardoo (Marsilea drummondii) 122 preparation 122, 141, 146, 160 Native Village in the Northern Interior of S. Australia 76 Natives Discovering the Body of William John Wills, the Explorer, at Coopers Creek, June 1861 176 navigation 69, 98, 165 Neumayer, Georg 21, 40, 44 Nguthungama people 177 night sky 82

O Observational Views of Donati’s Comet 68 Observatory for Geophysics, Magnetism and Nautical Science 21 Ocyphaps lophotes 161 oilcloths 152 Olearia muelleri 41 Order of the Funeral Procession of Burke and Wills, to Take Place on Wednesday, 21st January, 1863 187

P padlu bean 141, 143 Paine, Tom 60 Panoramic View of Melbourne, Victoria 22–23, 24–25 parru (fish) 167 The Parting Cheer: Richard O’Hara Burke, at the Head of the Exploring Expedition Leaving Royal Park 20th Augt. 1860 50

Paterson, Aaron 112, 128, 128, 177 Patten, William 67, 137 injuries 101 peru (fish) 167 Peterdownunder. The Burke and Wills Dig Tree at Bullah Bullah Waterhole, on Coopers Creek, Queensland, Australia 97 Philosophical Institute of Victoria 21 Exploration Committee 27 formation 25 initial proposal for exploring expedition 25 name change 29 see also Royal Society of Victoria pigface (plant) 91 pistols 152 pitcheri (plant) 123 Pitchery (Yandruwandha chief) 128, 149, 154, 159 Plant Camp 97 plant specimens 41 Plotosidae sp. 167 Portrait of Baron Ferdinand Jakob Heinrich von Mueller, ca. 1879 29 Portrait of Burke and Wills, 1862 1 Portrait of Dick: The Brave and Gallant Native Guide, Darling Depot Decb. 21. 60 66 Portrait of John King 44 Portrait of John McDougall [i.e.McDouall] Stuart 27 Portrait of Robert O’Hara Burke 30, 37 Portrait of William John Wills 40 portraits see also entries under individual names Portraits of Australian Explorers R. O’H. Burke, W.J. Wills, C. Gray. John King 36 portulaca 91, 135, 152–153, 169 Preservation Creek 79 Proeschel, Frederick. Map of South Australia 174, 175 provisions 50, 51, 105, 142 Public Funeral of the Australian Explorers Burke and Wills, 1863 184–185, 189 Purcell, William 134

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R Rajah (camel) 106, 112, 117, 121, 125 rats 133, 165 Rattus villosissimus 142 Réaumur scale 113 Redford, Henry Arthur 147 Return of Burke and Wills to Coopers Creek 111 Rhodanthe moschata 41 Rhodes, Jon The Charles Summers Monument, Swanston Street, Melbourne 9 The Dig Tree, North Side, Cooper Creek, Qld 90 Nardoo (Marsilea drummondii) 122 Rolfe, Ian. Cooper Creek, Innamincka 2 Royal Commission into the expedition 5, 7, 67, 71, 72, 137, 187–188 Royal Park 52 Royal Society of Victoria 29 The Royal Society of Victoria’s 1859 Building in Victoria Street, Melbourne (LaTrobe Street Entrance), Designed by Leading Architect Joseph Reed 29 see also Philosophical Institute of Victoria Rudman, Tim. Cooper Creek in Flood at the Birdsville Track 26

S Salt Bush 154 Saltbush and Pigface 91 Samla (camel driver) 54 The Sandy Ridges of Central Australia 74–5, 78 Schoenfeld, Frederick. Ludwig Becker 42 Scott, Eugene Montagu The Finding of King, the Survivor 180 Natives Discovering the Body of William John Wills, the Explorer, at Coopers Creek, June 1861 176 scurvy 101, 133, 134, 135 search party 181 Seated Camel, Australia 95 Simpson Desert 79 Sir Augustus Charles Gregory 109

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Site of Burke and Wills Most Northerly Camp on the Byno River 69 Sketches for the Burial of Burke 182 Smith, John 137 snakes 92, 95 South Australia (map) 174, 175 spirit level 99 squatters 16, 17 starvation 2, 164, 165, 168, 170 Stawell, William 27 Stone, Charles 134 Stony Desert 78, 79 Strutt, William 30, 37, 39, 54, 148 Brahe of Burke’s Party, December 1861 44 The Burial of Burke 178–179, 181, 182 Camels for the Exploring Expedition, Melbourne, July 1860 32 The Camels for the Exploring Expedition, Just Landed at Melbourne, July 1960 32 East Indian Camel Driver, December 1861 54 Encampment of the Exploring Party 52 Indian Camel Hobbled, Royal Park, Melbourne Dec’ 23rd 117 King Grieving over Burke 158 Mr Landells and Little Dog Weighing 2 lbs 39 The Parting Cheer: Richard O’Hara Burke, at the Head of the Exploring Expedition Leaving Royal Park 20th Augt. 1860 50 Portrait of Robert O’Hara Burke 30, 37 Salt Bush 154 Saltbush and Pigface 91 Sketches for the Burial of Burke 182 Strzelecki Creek 145, 147 Strzelecki Track 147 Strzelecki’s Creek 140 Stuart, John McDouall 2, 27, 27–29, 65, 188 Sturt, Charles 2, 78, 79, 79, 147 sketch of Yandruwandha camp 140 A Successful Exploration through the Interior of Australia, from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria: From the Journals and Letters of William John Wills 5

Summers, Charles 148 monument to Burke and Wills 9 Surveyor’s Scale Rule 67 Swan Hill 57 Sweet, Samuel White. Camels Camped 81

T telegraph links 27 Terrick Terrick Plains 56 thawirritji (fish) 167 thiaminase 160 Tin Dish Washing 19 Tindale, Norman Barnett. Map Showing the Distribution of the Aboriginal Tribes of Australia 144, 145 tobacco preparation 123 Torowotto Swamp 71 Totnes 13 Track of the Expedition from Coopers Creek to Carpentaria by Burke, Wills, King and Gray... 70, 71, 86, 87, 92, 93 A Tribute to the Memory of Burke and Wills 2

U Unidentified Coastal Landscape 10–11, 15

V van den Houten, Henricus Leonardus. The Exploring Party Coming Upon an Encampment of Natives 190–191 Victorian Exploring Expedition botanical collecting 41 at Campaspe River 62–63, 65 costs 33, 57 departure from Melbourne 46–47, 48, 49, 49–50, 53, 54 early proposals 27 final push north 77, 85 fundraising 27, 30 leadership 30–31 leadership shortcomings 4, 31, 33, 71, 106, 137, 187–188 map of route 64, 70–71, 86–87, 92–93, opposite page 1

newspaper tribute 3 objectives 1, 29, 65 participants 36–45 potential route home 106 recruitment of participants 33 Royal Commission 5, 7, 67, 71, 72, 137, 187–188 splitting of the expedition party 67 The Victorian Exploring Expedition Argus article 182 View of Hillside with Stars in the Background 82 von Guerard, Eugene. Koort KoortNong Homestead, near Camperdown, Victoria 15 von Tempsky, Gustavus Ferdinand 31

W Wall, W. G. Great Collins Street, Looking from Russell Street, Melbourne 16 Warburton, Peter 30 Watpipa the ‘Old Man,’ Our Guide on Sep. 24. 60 127 Westall, William. Groote Eylandt, a View 92 wet season 91 Wilkie, David 25 William John Wills, Astronomer and Surveyor to the Victorian Exploration Expedition, Died at Coopers Creek about 2nd July, 1861 12 Wills, Jack see Wills, William Wills, Sarah 13, 18, 21, 69 Wills, Thomas 17, 40 Wills, William 2–3, 172 alone at Camp 9 141 apprenticeship in medicine 14 apprenticeship in surveying 18, 40 biography 40 childhood 13–14, 40 death 174, 176 diaries 3–8, 7 diary description 7 diary keeping 3–8 employment at the observatory 21 farewell letter to Wills snr 168–169 final return to depot 146, 150 illness 20, 153, 160

interest in mathematics 18, 19 left to die 173 Letter to Dr William Wills 169 living with the Yandruwandha 154 loyalty to Burke 5, 60, 146, 188 meteorological observations 4, 7, 57, 96, 112, 159 migration to Australia 17, 40 navigation 96–7, 98 portraits 1, 3, 12, 35, 36, 40 reburial by Howitt 182–183 relationship with Aboriginal people 4, 129, 142, 146, 147 religious faith 18, 69, 170 tribute to 3 Wills, William (snr) 13, 14, 17, 18, 55, 137, 170 demand for a search party 181 publication of Wills’ expedition notes 4–5 Wilson, Edward 27 Woldendorp, Richard. Aerial View of Strzelecki Desert, April 2004 138–139, 147 Wright, William 67, 71, 72 biography 43 journey north from Menindee 133

Y Yandruwandha people 4, 77–78, 114–115, 117 breastplate presented to 8 camps on Strzelecki Creek 114, 140 conflicts with 134, 151–152, 155 dealings with 81, 111, 121–123, 125, 127, 151–152 fishing nets 120 King living with 174, 177 language 5, 149 maps of country 144, 145 Yellow Alice 177 Yidnaminkie 173

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• STARVATION

in a LAND of PLENTY •

Burke and Wills are Australia’s most famous explorers.

If everything had gone according to plan, however, we might never have heard of young William Wills. When Robert O’Hara Burke led the Victorian Exploring Expedition out of Melbourne in 1860, Wills was not the second-in-command. He was simply the party’s ‘surveyor, astronomical and meteorological observer’. But this ambitious venture carried with it the seeds of its own destruction and the resulting tragedy transformed the young English surveyor into an Australian martyr. On the banks of Cooper’s Creek, in the heart of Aboriginal Australia, Wills learnt a great lesson. The country he had been sent out to explore was already known and understood by its owners, the Yandruwandha. For all his scientific learning and natural curiosity, Wills was unable to survive without their knowledge and hospitality. A diary kept by Wills, now held in the National Library of Australia, lies at the centre of this book. Between 23 April and 28 June 1861, Wills used his diary to document the torments and disappointments that led to Burke’s and his own destruction. In Starvation in a Land of Plenty, award-winning historian and broadcaster Michael Cathcart draws on Wills’ matter-of-fact account of his fatal weeks to reveal William Wills as a man of immense dignity and courage.

ISBN 978-0-642-27790-9

http://bookshop.nla.gov.au/

Australian history