10 EXPLORATION IN WHSTKHN AUSTRALIA 



A. C. Gre;;3'ory in lHr>G. in appt,'ara,.iC(j it somewhat resembles a 

 gigantic bottle tree, the head bulging,' out into a huge ball-like top, 

 with branches straggling out of it in all directions. This tree was 

 about lOOl't. in circumference at the base. After leaving Avern 

 Station, I ran the Baines River to the head. Lshould have said 

 that Avern is a very well -watered run. A boat can come up the 

 river to within four miles of the head station, and land goods 

 direct flora the deck into a dray at the bar crossing the river, the 

 water being there deep enough to allow the boat to lie close to 

 land. My course now lay over the range, and during the day I 

 struck a creek which joined the Negri River about seven miles 

 from its junction with the Ord River, which latter flows into 

 Cambridge Gulf at W'yndham. I followed up the Ord by way of 

 Flora Valley to Hall's Creek, and thence passed by Mt. Dockerell 

 (a deserted gold camp), over sixty miles of poor desert country, 

 where I got water, however. This is in the Kimberley district, 

 in the midst of a gold-producing country. As I stated, I got 

 away GO miles to the south of Moi;nt Dockerell, where I left 

 most of my horses, and, taking three of my black boys and 

 sixteen horses, I made on attempt to get through the desert to 

 try to find a track to the head of the Oakover. The attempt 

 nearly resulted in fatal disaster. We watered the horses at 

 1 p.m. on Saturday, and from that time till Tuesday morning we 

 found no water. My one chance of keeping life in the unfortunate 

 animals was to give each a pannikin of water from our precious 

 supply in the water bags, ^^'e poured the pannikin of water 

 into a plate, and allowed them to lick it up. It was a pitiful 

 drink; but it wet the poor brutes' mouths, and was the means of 

 saving their lives. 



Finding it of no use to persist in my object, I turned back, 

 and on reaching Christmas Creek, after giving the horses a 

 needed spell, I ran the creek down to where it joins the Fitzroy. 

 This is good country, and I found stations all the way down the 

 Fitzroy. The Quamby River tlows into King Sound. Mr. 

 E. Rose's station is the first station met with on the Fitzroy. I 

 met with great kindness from the squatters all along the line. I 

 now followed the river down until I struck the telegraph line 

 from Derby to Broome where the cable goes to Banjoewangie. 

 Brooiiie is a beautiful little place, and a great pearling station, 

 much like Thursday Island, and population much the same as 

 of that Island. Then followed the dreary 90 mile beach 

 along an open plain, all sand, where water is obtained from a 

 series of Government wells, which are, on an average. 



