No fringe of low mangrove
covered flats, studded with inlets and salt-water creeks, masking the
entrance of a river, was here to be found. A bold outline of barren
cliffs, or a clean-swept sandy shore, alone fronted the ocean, and
Flinders, constantly on the alert as he always was for anything
approaching an outlet or river mouth, would scarcely have missed one
here. As for any knowledge of the interior that was gained, of course
there was none, even the conjectures of a worn out, starving man, picking
his way painfully around the sea shore, would have scarcely been of much
value. Eyre has, however secured for himself a name for courage and
perseverance, under the most terrible circumstances that could well beset
a man, and this qualification leads us to overlook his errors of
judgment. The picture of the lonely man--not separated from his fellow
creatures by the sea, as has often been the case, but by countless miles
of weary, untrodden waste, in his plundered camp, beside his murdered
companion--is one that for peculiar horror, can never be surpassed.
Eyre was warmly welcomed on his return to Adelaide, and he was
subsequently appointed police magistrate on the Murray, where his
experience and knowledge of the natives was of great service.
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