hey receive at the hands of the men; but the latter did
not show any unkindness towards them in our presence.
Although I desired to avoid exciting their alarm, I still made a point
of showing them the effects of a gunshot, by firing at a kite, or any
other bird that happened to be near. My dexterity--for I did not trust
Fraser, who would, ten to one, have missed his mark--was generally
exerted, as I have said, against a kite or a crow; both of which birds
generally accompanied the blacks from place to place to pick up the
remnants of their meals. Yet, I was often surprised at the apparent
indifference with which the natives not only saw the effect of the
shot, but heard the report. I have purposely gone into the centre of a
large assemblage and fired at a bird that has fallen upon their very
heads, without causing a start or an exclamation, without exciting
either their alarm or their curiosity.
Whence this callous feeling proceeded, whether from strength of nerve,
or because they had been informed by our forerunners that we should
show off before them, I know not, but I certainly expected a very
different effect from that which my firing generally produced, although
I occasionally succeeded in scattering them pretty well.
JUNCTION OF THE RUFUS.
About 11 a.m., we arrived at the junction of a small river with the
Murray, at which a tribe, about 250 in number, had assembled to greet
us. We landed, therefore, for the double purpose of distributing
presents, and of examining the junction, which, coming from the north,
of course, fell into the Murray upon its right bank. Its waters were so
extremely muddy, and its current so rapid, that it must have been
swollen by some late rains. Perhaps, it had its sources in the hills we
had seen; be that as it may, it completely discoloured the waters of
the Murray.
We made it a point never to distribute any presents among the natives
until we had made them all sit, or stand, in a row. Sometimes this was
a troublesome task, but we generally succeeded in gaining our point;
with a little exertion of patience. M'Leay was a famous hand at
ordering the ranks, and would, I am sure, have made a capital
drill-sergeant, not less on account of his temper than of his
perseverance. I called the little tributary I have noticed, the Rufus,
in honour of my friend M'Leay's red head, and I have no doubt, he will
understand the feeling that induced me to give it such a name.
GEOLOGICAL EXAMI
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