The correspondence of Ferdinand von Mueller: Balbinia, ¶ 25th July, 1894. ¶ Baron Sir Ferd. von Mueller. ¶ Dear Sir, — ¶ ¶ At Israelite Bay ¶ you can see a point where three formations meet, which I term the "Old," the "New," and the "Recent....

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Letter not found. For the text given here, see 'Natural features of Israelite Bay', in Report of the sixth meeting of the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science (1895), Section E, Geography, pp. 561-9, where the author of the article is stated to be 'J. P. Brooke'. The surname of Brooks and his sister is consistently mis-spelled in this way in the printed text.

Balbinia,

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WA.

25th July, 1894.

Baron Sir Ferd. von Mueller.

Dear Sir, —

At Israelite Bay

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WA.

you can see a point where three formations meet, which I term the "Old," the "New," and the "Recent." I have, through Miss Brooke, your assurance that this spot has special interest to the botanist, and I have my own conviction that it must have an equal interest to the geologist, the meteorologist, and perhaps the geographer. Pardon me for mentioning meteorology first. The feature I take is what I term the rainbelt, which commences approximately on a ridge about 30 miles west of Esperance Bay.

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WA.

At the foot of this ridge, going eastward, are two lakes teeming at times with wild fowl. On the southern bank of one will be noticed the western limit of the ,

5

Encephalartos dyeri? M was inconsistent in the way he used generic names of the cycads, and presumably he had given this name where Brooks had seen it. See notes to M to W. Thiselton-Dyer, 18 October 1881 (in this edition as 81-10-18a).

peculiar to this district. These lakes are fed by the Daylup and other creeks, and beyond them is a vast forest of yawl, or "paper-bark tea-tree." Surrounding an old homestead of Messrs. Dempster Bros., on the south-western side of the yawls towards the coast hills, is a clump of stunted jarrah, with the undergrowth characteristic of this species of timber. This is the eastern limit of the jarrah. About 12 miles before reaching Esperance Bay the rainfall reaches its maximum, and just off the same bay begins the Recherche Archipelago, the scattered islands of which, while giving a charm and beauty to the scene which I shall not attempt to describe, are a source of danger and anxiety to our navigators. The heavy rainfall continues till Cape Arid hills are passed, when its volume again decreases; about here is the Rubicon Creek, which is remarkable as being the last watercourse met with for several hundreds of miles. Imagine, if you can, travelling on the shores of the vast Southern Ocean for many weeks, and far on into South Australia, without seeing a single stream running into it. On the eastern banks of the Rubicon are growing the last specimens of the "cabbage" or "Christmas tree." A few miles further we pass the hill of Cape Paisley, and here the rainbelt may be said to terminate, for although Point Malcolm and even Israelite Bay receive more rain than any point beyond, yet it is so uncertain and limited that they cannot be included in the belt. The rainbelt runs therefore east and west in full strength about 100 miles, with a lighter fringe of 18 miles in length on the west, and a corresponding fringe of about 12 miles on the eastern border; unhappily its extreme width is under 10 miles, and is mostly far short of that distance. The character of the country is locally termed "Quowcken" or "Sandplain." The meaning attached to this word "Quowcken" by the aboriginal natives is simply an open plain without timber, and would equally apply to clear, grassy plains; whereas a European only applies it to these extensive scrubby plains, thus giving it a special significance. A singular feature throughout the quowckens of the rainbelt are the numbers of yate and yawl swamps. Occasionally a swamp will be found where only one of these trees is represented, but usually both are more or less mixed. Generally these swamps have grass in them, affording camps for travellers and shepherds. The soil of the quowckens at first sight appears to be sand, but closer inspection will show it to be a poor sandy loam, though there are extensive tracts of pure sand in many places. After heavy rains the whole country is covered with water for miles and miles, the water lying on the sides and tops of the hills as well as on the flats, because the tussocky nature of the scrub, rushes, and coarse grass offers so much more resistance than finer grasses that the water is impounded for the time. I think many of the flats and swamps should grow flax, and, if the heat be sufficient, rice. At any rate in some future day these same quowckens will have a far greater value than at present, for they now possess a magnificent climate, a grand rainfall, and a clay bottom; they only require cleaning, sweetening, and manuring to become a most fertile territory. A peculiarity of the gullies and watercourses here, by courtesy called rivers and creeks, are the noble banks they have. The quowckens, though undulating, present a very level appearance, and a traveller will without notice suddenly find himself on the summit of a hill, while 100 feet or more below him runs a beautiful grassy valley, and opposite him another steep hill, the top of which is again the quowcken; in the bottom of the valley is the gutter in which, for eight or nine months of the year, a tiny stream of generally salt water is trickling; but in most of such creeks strong soaks exist, so that fresh water can be obtained by sinking two feet or three feet often quite close to the salt water of the creek. About once in twenty years an exceptional season occurs, and then these streamlets become for a few days rushing torrents, tearing out trees, rocks, and everything opposing their course; sweeping away sandbars and hummocks which have formed at their mouths, and so for a few days run into the sea; but as their entire course rarely exceeds five miles, it is only a flash, and then the sand fills in again, and the torrent becomes a trickling gutter. The same grassy valleys of these creeks have splendid soil, and would grow luxuriant crops of all kinds. Ten thousand pities they are not more extensive. East from Point Malcolm, and equidistant from it and Israelite Bay, a rocky hill appears to rear itself right out of the ocean; this is the hill on Christmas Island. This island, with the Caterpillar Reef, Hassel's Rock (an islet off Israelite), and a few other rocks and isles are the eastern termination of Recherche Archipelago, and 50 miles south of Point Malcolm the islets attain their southern limit in "Pollock's Reef," the dread of mariners. So these beautiful and interesting islands are dotted all over the ocean for about 150 miles in length by 50 miles in breadth. Many are extremely fertile; some abound with Tammur, some have rabbits, some are the haunt of the wild goose, and nearly all are occupied with penguin, mutton birds, and wild ducks. Here, too, is the home of the seal, both hair and fur; and glad am I that the Government have afforded them protection in their Game Bill, as the wholesale slaughterings lately conducted, at a time when the poor little cubs could not exist alone, would only end in their extinction.

This archipelago is capable of supporting a large population. When West Australia affords a market, I shall expect to find here a hardy people combining fishing and market-gardening. Where on the face of the earth could invalided Indians or Australians find a more perfect sanatorium with a climate which shows neither extreme?

I proceed to another natural feature. Hitherto the coastline has been very broken and irregular, affording numerous bays and harbours, several of which, as Esperance Bay, the Duc D'Orleans' Bay, &c., offer safety and accommodation for a fleet; the general run of the line has been almost east and west, the northing made being almost imperceptible. On passing Point Malcolm, however, all is altered; a most decided trend to the north is noticed; a low, sweeping sandy beach is seen quite dazzling in the bright sunlight, and you are aware you are at the western end of the Great Australian Bight. Away in the distance you can see some higher sandhills, and they, the sea, and sky get so mixed you cannot say where one ceases and the other begins; beyond is Israelite Bay. Here, it will be found, the sandhills overlie a large granite rock protecting them on the seaward side, and named Point Dempster. This sand-patch, though by no means the last of the sand-drifts, is the last of them composed of white sand. A low sandy curved beach, at the end of which, opposite to Point Dempster, and about three miles from it, is a small granite rock named Point Lorenzen, an island in the high tides and almost connected with Point Dempster by a reef. Such is Israelite Bay. Beyond Point Lorenzen for two or three miles the granite crops up again on the beach, and this is its eastern limit on West Australian shores, and it is abreast of the last of the islands; and then for miles ahead you see the white sandy beach, and the long lines of breakers slowly rolling in on it. Arrived there it is still white sandy beach, almost a right line, for miles at a stretch; you look back and it is the same, and ever in the distance has a smoky appearance from the mist off the breakers. This is the Seventy-mile Beach. I may as well state here that there is nothing cramped or confined in any of the features of this country; all its proportions are on an ample, if not colossal, scale. Thirty miles from Israelite Bay is the Wattle Camp Sandpatch. The reason I mention it is that an observer will notice the difference between this and any other hitherto passed, the sand being so fine and possessing a yellow tint.

From these sandhills, looking north-east along the now slowly curving beach, will be seen in the distance what look like five or six gigantic sugarloaves or icebergs on top of the sea. This is the Point Culver Sandpatch. It is 25 miles in length. The highest points must attain 150 to 200 feet, and it is said to greatly resemble a vast snowdrift. The wind blows the fine sand into a crest on the summit of the hills with an edge as sharp and clear cut as a knife, and the eye follows these undulating lines for miles until lost in sheer distance. These sand-drifts, but particularly this one, have a calm majestic beauty all their own. If you are on the inland side, the deep blue of the ocean and the paler blue of the sky form a fitting and pleasing background to the pure statuesque hills. If the traveller is on the beach, they are thrown up in strong relief against the dark line of the cliffs, and at sunrise or sunset the exquisite glory and softness of tint and colouring is a dream, a thing defying reproduction; and one could watch for hours the strange play of light and shade. I was travelling here on one occasion when, owing to refraction, Mount Rugged and Mount Russell could be plainly seen from beneath the cliffs. On ordinary occasions Mount Dean — the nearest of the hills — alone is visible from the top of the cliffs, and I could see the whole coastline right down to Point Malcolm — a distance of nearly 90 miles — with Christmas and New Year Islands, and the adjacent rocks and isles, quite distinctly. I shall never forget the strange fascinating beauty of that scene. The coastline continues its north-east course, past Point Dover (near which Eyre's overseer met his untimely fate

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During Eyre’s overland journey in 1841 around the head of the Great Australian Bight, his overseer, John Baxter, was killed by two of their three Aboriginal companions. Eyre, however, and the remaining Aborigine, Wylie, eventually arrived safely at King George Sound, WA.

) and Eucla to a point near Fowler's Bay, named the Head of the Bight,

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beyond which it turns to the southward, forming the eastern side of the Bight.

I must ask you now to return to Cape Paisley. Right at the back, or inland side of the hill, the quowcken drops suddenly, forming a long, low hill or range, not unlike one bank of some of the creeks already mentioned, only the other bank is wanting, and there is no creek below. The range runs nearly north four or five miles, and then trends to the east when it gradually gets higher and steeper, and is crowned first with low stunted mallee, but the farther you proceed the higher and denser the mallee becomes, while limestone appears cropping upon the surface. At short intervals, throughout, long gulches are met, in one of which, abreast of Cape Paisley, the Zamia finds its eastern limit. Suddenly the range turns to the north again. From this point runs a line to Point Malcolm, and you have the eastern limit of the "Blackboys."*

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* . This and the following two notes are in the source text, p. 564.

In the mallee on the side and summit of the range will be found a good deal of "Marlock poison." Following the range on its northerly course for three or four miles the inland road from Israelite is crossed, when suddenly the range nearly doubles its height and becomes almost perpendicular on the face. Here then commence "The Cliffs." They are charted as Hampton Range, but no one ever dreams of calling them anything else than "The Cliffs"; and here, as far as soil and vegetation is concerned, you must say farewell to West Australia.

We have already left the creeks and swamps, the jarrah, the blackboys, the palms, the cabbage-tree, and now you will find no more "Marlock poison"+

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+ Gastrolobium.

or other poison plants, except candyup grass;++

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++ .

no more quowcken, no more clay or ironstone. Soon, too, we shall se the last of the yates, yawls, and granite, proving to the great satisfaciton of my mind the strong affinity there is between botany and geology — that is to say, given a certain geological formation and there you will find a certain botanical collection.

It is at this point where the three formations before alluded to meet each other, for on the road before mentioned you find the grey and yellow coloured clay, the coarse-grained granite so full of mica and felspar, ironstone, gravel, and earthy limestone, characteristic of what I term the "old formation,” while close at hand rears up the newer one of hard flinty limestone alone, and on the low-lying country between the foot of the cliffs and Israelite Bay, and running right up to Point Culver, is the quite recent formation consisting of sandhills, but little differing from driftsand, samphire flats, and salt lakes, formerly probably banks of seaweed and marshes on the shore, and a thin layer of sandstone which is apparently only forming; also, shells are found lying intact oil the surface of the dry salt lakes identical with those thrown upon the beach to-day. That volcanic action has been at work here in the past can hardly be doubted; we have had tidal waves and several earth tremors since settlers first ventured here, showing that these forces arc not yet extinguished. Are they still working? From indications I have watched on the beach I am inclined to think they are; that slowly and imperceptibly the earth is gradually rising above the water. There are channels in the rock on Point Dempster, where the waves wash to and fro, which are filled with waterworn boulders and pebbles; but in these same channels, far above the action of the present highest tides, there are still waterworn boulders and pebbles. Farther eastward, on the Seventy-mile Beach, the land has made nearly half-a-mile in width since I first saw it eighteen years ago; and at one place there, below some low sandhills, four or five distinct lines of steps or terraces can be seen, as if the deposits of sand and seaweed left by the tides were regularly receding. Another problem agitating my mind is, Was the granite formation forced up through the limestone, lifting the limestone (the sea bottom) up with it? Or was the bed of the ocean raised up till it overflowed the adjacent granite belt? To the unlearned bushman the indications apply either way. The cliffs run almost parallel with the coastline, but gradually approaching it, till at Point Culver the tides wash their base. To say there are no gullies or evidence of water action would be wrong; but the contrast to the long, winding gulches of the older formation is very marked. These short precipitous indentures can hardly be called gullies. I regret I cannot corroborate a report I have read by the Government Geologist, Mr. Woodward, wherein it is stated that, owing to the porous nature of the limestone, water is found oozing out on the face of the cliffs like springs or soaks; he has, unhappily, been misinformed. Such a desirable state of things would transform everything, the hardships and fortunes of the settlors included. Nevertheless, they are not entirely destitute of water, for not only on the face of the cliffs but all through the limestone there are rockholes, the karo-gabby of the natives, the largest of which contain from 100 to 400 gallons of water; but though generally sufficient for aboriginal needs, they are quite inadequate for Europeans and their stock. Are these holes formed by the action of water revolving a boulder in the softer rock ? There are also "blowholes," deep round shafts, generally perpendicular and about two feet in diameter, of variable depth — some as deep as 150 feet; others are in a slanting direction, and perhaps run for miles. Out of them the wind rushes with a roaring sound, with sufficient force to carry a felt hat with it; in others, again, the air is rushing inwards. There are depressions in places like landslips, and there are caves, some of them of immense size, some of which contain a white substance like flour; it is simply carbonate of lime, and if we had a wetter climate no doubt stalactites and stalagmites would be formed. Somewhere I have read a description of the chalk downs of Kent and Sussex, in England, which is so applicable to these cliffs that I quote a portion — "These downs are covered with a sweet, short herbage, forming excellent sheep pasture, generally bare of trees, and singularly dry, even in the valleys, which for miles wind and receive complicated branches, all descending in a regular slope, yet are left entirely dry, and, what is more singular, contain no channel and but little other circumstantial proof of the action of water, by which they were certainly excavated." With a few modifications this is an exact description of these cliffs. For some miles from the face of the cliffs they are clothed with a white- barked, thick-leaved mallee, sufficiently thin and open to drive a team through without cutting a stick, and in many of the valleys — beyond Point Culver particularly — there are patches or "paddocks" of grass of excellent quality; and everywhere among the mallee, throughout their course, the bushes growing are good top-feed for sheep, and are, I am told, identical with those in South Australia; and there is everywhere a short, dark, wiry grass called "black grass," which is edible for stock when springing up green after a fire. The one thing lacking is water; otherwise here is room for many thousands of sheep. Eastward, the Nullabor Plains come in almost to the edge of the cliffs, and afford grand pasturage for sheep, but nothing has been done yet with them; owing to the water difficulty. The last yawl trees to be met with are beneath the cliffs at Point Culver; the last granite I know of is three or four miles eastward of Wattle Camp. The termination of the quowcken is about 15 miles north of Israelite, though there are some patches on top of the cliffs resembling them, but they differ in herbage, and they have no clay.

There are yate flats scattered about on top of the cliffs approaching a line running north from Israelite. East of that line I have met none, so I believe it to be their limit; but from this line to Point Culver I am not sufficiently acquainted with the country to be positive. From Point Culver the cliffs run overhanging the sea for more than 100 miles; they then recede as much as 20 miles or more from the present coastline, but meet it again just beyond Eucla, beyond which they gradually lose their hitherto almost uniform height of 300 feet, till finally they are lost near the head of the Bight; beyond Eucla I have not travelled, so I can only speak from report. So from their commencement near Israelite Bay, to where they meet the sea beyond Eucla, they extend in an unbroken uniform height for 450 miles; and now over this route, marching to the strains of "Killaloo," and saturated in dreams of future golden wealth, is daily pouring, from all corners of Australasia, a suffering, starving crowd of men, a very few of whom may partially realise their golden dreams, but the majority, poor fellows, will meet with only greater suffering and hardships; and still they come.

From Esperance Bay to Cape Paisley, and as far north as I have ventured— 50 or 60 miles north of Lake Lefroy— the country is studded with low rounded granite hills and rocks corresponding to the isles and reefs of the archipelago; from the north line from Israelite Bay they extend westward almost to York and Toodyay, but east of the north line there is but one rock, and that close to the line; the remainder is universally limestone. West of the line is a strip of country 20 to 25 miles in width where the two formations seem to be mixed. So, then, if you have been able to follow me, we find my Recent Formation extending from Point Malcolm to Point Culver, and between the sea and the cliffs, and again from where the cliffs recede from the sea (about 20 miles west of Eyre’s Patch) right down to Eucla, bounded again by the sea and cliffs. My New Formation extends eastward from a line running north from Israelite, how far I cannot say, but far into South Australia; and I do not know how far north, but I am acquainted with it for 150 miles. My Old Formation embraces all the country west from the line, and you will not forget the strip where the Old and the New appear mixed. Speaking in a very general sense, the flora of the New is common to South Australia and the flora of the Old to West Australia, while the Recent partakes of both, but that flora predominating to which it is nearest, that is, from Eyre to Eucla it resembles the South Australian flora most, and from Point Culver to Israelite Bay it is closely allied to the West Australian flora. If you could travel overland from Israelite Bay to Albany as I have done in or about the month of August, I believe you would fairly revel in the floral wealth exhibited. I should like to tell you a little more about my friends, Mount Rugged, Mount Russell, and Mount Dean, but time presses.

By far the most conspicuous object from sea or land is Mount Rugged, or "Barning-gunyah" with the inland natives, and "Carta-Currup" with the coastal tribe; it is charted most frequently Mount Ragged, which name is far too suggestive to our settlers of the tattered appearance of the natives, so it is unanimously styled Mount Rugged here. Within a circle, having a diameter of 100 miles, and far out at sea, he rears his stately crest, towering, like the ancient Israelitish monarch, head and shoulders above his fellows.

This hill is about three miles in length, running north-east and south-west; it is a few feet short of 2,000 above sea level, but loses greatly in its situation, as about two miles from its base the ground rapidly falls, so that the hill rises out of a deep valley, like a dry moat round some old castle, or as if, when all was new and soft, the weight had pressed the foundations down. The summit is so sharp that one can sit astride as on a horse; both sides are very steep, but especially the north-west, which drops away sheer down. About midway down the south-east side is a terrace, with but a slight gradient, after which the downward slope is resumed, but not at such a steep incline as in the first. There are several gorges on this side, as well as on both ends of the hill, in all of which clear, cool, fresh water is found slowly trickling; and in rocky hollows sufficient can be obtained generally to water a few horses. Price’s Spring — after Mr. C. D. Price, who found and opened it out — is the chief of these, and at first was considered to be a spring, but has failed several times since to yield any water. At first one takes the rock composing these hills to be granite, but on closer inspection it more nearly resembles quartz; and from its laminated character, I think it must be mica schist — at any rate, it is neither quartz nor granite. The sides of the hill are all covered with hard, thorny scrubs, and loose, flat stones, rendering walking up or down (but especially down) both difficult and dangerous. Towards the base a great deal of ironstone shingle and gravel and nodules of quartz are mixed with the sand and loose stones. Here flourish four different kinds of poison shrub, also a dwarf eucalypt, with enormous leaves and a gorgeous red flower. In the valley surrounding the hill are several yate swamps, or flats — as they rarely contain water— in which grass, as usual, is found. Below Price’s Spring there is a nice patch of grass, with , peaches, wattles, and, in the gorge, willows growing; otherwise Mount Rugged is surrounded by quowcken on which grows Mount Rugged poison, somewhat resembling a heartleaf poison shrub ( ). It also occurs on the Phillips River. Separated by a valley from Mount Rugged, and slightly more inclined to the east, is Mount Russell. I do not know its height, but estimate it to be about 1,500 feet. On the south-east side is water, and below a patch of she-oaks, grass, &c. The Mount Dean hills run north-east also, commencing nearly six miles south of the eastern termination of Mount Russell, and are about ten miles long. The chief hill (Mount Dean) is about as high as Mount Russell, with a corresponding patch of grass, she-oaks, water, &c., ever on the south-east side. There are four other conical points of lesser height on this range. The foregoing description of Mount Rugged serves equally for the other hills, so I need not repeat it. When seen from a ship’s deck, they appear as one range; but they run as I have described.

Mount Rugged is situated 25 miles west-north-west from Israelite Bay, and about the same distance from Balbinia. Bearing about ten degrees west of south, the highest hills of Mount Russell bear north-west from Israelite, and the highest point of Mount Dean about north-west by north. A south line from Balbinia — which is in lat. 33° 4' 41" S. — runs about equidistant from Mount Russell and Mount Dean. The highest peak of Mount Rugged, above Price’s Spring — the north-east knob is the same height, within a foot or two — marks an angle in the division line between the Eucla and the Central districts, the boundary line running hence north and west, so that from some caprice a 20,000-acre block costs the unhappy settler twice as much on one side of these lines as on the other, while the land itself is equally poverty-stricken. To the wearied and perspiring pioneer, who has arduously toiled on hands and feet to attain the summit of Mount Rugged — anticipating a view of broad, rolling plains of bright, waving, yellow grass, studded with clumps and ridges of the brilliant, dark-green (so-called) S.A. sandalwood, or the bluish white of salt-bush plains — the endless panorama which meets his gaze is a cruel disappointment, so dreary, cheerless, and solitary is the dark funereal hue of the immense undulating sea of and , melting away in the distance to a smoky blue on the one hand, and the desolate grey of the vast quowcken, bounded by the ocean line, on the other; and the survey produces a feeling of horror and loathing. Yet, when impartially viewed, the scene is neither devoid of interest nor of beauty. Away there on the coastline are the white hills of the Israelite Sandpatch, showing clearly against the deep blue of the sea beyond and the snowy white of the breakers as they dash against the rocks and isles of the archipelago, slowly rising and subsiding, as plainly at this distance as if it were but a stone's throw. Yonder pale-blue hills are the Cape Arid Range, with Mount Baring, Gingotup, Mount Mica, and the Pups closer in. Still further to the south-west are the Twin Peaks and the hill at the Bay of Duc D’Orleans. Quite south-west, like a faint blue cloud on the horizon, is the Frenchman’ s Peak in Cape Le Grand. That hill to the westward is Mount Ney, and beyond in the dim distance is Mount Ridley. There, beyond Pine Hill, is the large salt lake with its numerous banks and islands looming white and glaring. That hill to the north-west is Breminna, the western extremity of the rocky range which runs past Bundaminna, Walbyeroonia, Wadramilla, Gillarginnia, Mingamo, Booey-booer-inia, Chookala-oonia, Daralinia, right round to the northward till it runs out at Bowinia, nearly at the back of Balbinia.

I am, dear Sir, faithfully yours,

J. P. BROOKE.

P.S . — Re meteorology, we had here a brilliant Aurora Australis in March, a snowstorm lasting two hours on 30th May, and another aurora on 20th instant. Two aboriginal young men said they had seen snow before when they were children, that it came in the night, and the ground was white with it in the morning. On this occasion it melted as soon as it reached the ground. Some older natives had never seen it before, and they have no name for it, but say it is water.

J. P. B.

The correspondence of

Ferdinand von Mueller

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