efitting was in progress, that Bass started out on the adventurous
voyage which led to the discovery of the stretch of water separating
Tasmania from the mainland of Australia. But for the work on the
Reliance, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt that Flinders would have
been with him. Duty had to be done, however; the "ugly commanded work,"
in which, as the sage reminds us, genius has to do its part in common
with more ordinary mortals, made demands that must take precedence of
adventurous cruising along unknown coasts. So it was that the cobbling of
a debilitated tub separated on an historic occasion two brave and loyal
friends whose names will be thought of together as long as British people
treasure the memory of their choice and daring spirits.
CHAPTER 7. THE DISCOVERY OF BASS STRAIT.
The patching up of the Reliance not being surgeon's work, Bass, throbbing
with energy, looked about him for some useful employment. The whole of
the New South Wales settlement at this time consisted of an oblong--the
town of Sydney itself--on the south side of Port Jackson, a few sprawling
paddocks on either side of the fang-like limbs of the harbour, some small
pieces of cultivated land further west, at and beyond Parramatta, and a
cultivable area to the north-west on the banks of the Hawkesbury River. A
sketch-map prepared by Hunter, in 1796, illustrates these very small
early attempts of the settlement to spread. They show up against the
paper like a few specks of lettuce leaf upon a white table cloth. The
large empty spaces are traversed by red lines, principally to the
south-west, marking "country which has been lately walked over." The red
lines end abruptly on the far side of a curve in the course of the river
Nepean, where swamps and hills are shown. The map-maker "saw a bull" near
a hill which was called Mount Hunter, and marked it down.
West of the settlement, behind Richmond Hill on the Hawkesbury, the map
indicated a mountain range. Bass's first effort at independent
exploration was an endeavour to find a pass through these mountains. The
need was seen to be imminent. As the colony grew, the limits of
occupation would press up to the foot of this blue range, which, with its
precipitous walls, its alluring openings leading to stark faces of rock,
its sharp ridges breaking to sheer ravines, its dense scrub and timber,
defied the energies of successive explorers. Governor Phillip, in 1789,
reached Richmond by way of t
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