Australia Twice Traversed: The Romance of Exploration, Being a Narrative Compiled from the Journals of Five Exploring Expeditions into and Through Central South Australia and Western Australia, from 1872 to 1876Giles, Ernest
History
Australia Twice Traversed: The Romance of Exploration, Being a Narrative Compiled from the Journals of Five Exploring Expeditions into and Through Central South Australia and Western Australia, from 1872 to 1876
Giles, Ernest
Australia -- Discovery and exploration
Mr. Gosse had been here from the Gill's Range of my former expedition,
and must have crossed the extremity of Lake Amadeus. He named this
Ayers' Rock. Its appearance and outline is most imposing, for it is
simply a mammoth monolith that rises out of the sandy desert soil
around, and stands with a perpendicular and totally inaccessible face
at all points, except one slope near the north-west end, and that at
least is but a precarious climbing ground to a height of more than
1100 feet. Down its furrowed and corrugated sides the trickling of
water for untold ages has descended in times of rain, and for long
periods after, until the drainage ceased, into sandy basins at its
feet. The dimensions of this vast slab are over two miles long, over
one mile through, and nearly a quarter of a mile high. The great
difference between it and Mount Olga is in the rock formation, for
this is one solid granite stone, and is part and parcel of the
original rock, which, having been formed after its state of fusion in
the beginning, has there remained, while the aged Mount Olga has been
thrown up subsequently from below. Mount Olga is the more wonderful
and grotesque; Mount Ayers the more ancient and sublime. There is
permanent water here, but, unlike the Mount Olga springs, it lies all
in standing pools. There is excellent grazing ground around this rock,
though now the grass is very dry. It might almost be said of this, as
of the Pyramids or the Sphinx, round the decay of that colossal rock,
boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away. This
certainly was a fine place for a camp. The water was icy cold; a
plunge into its sunless deeps was a frigid tonic that, further west in
the summer heats, would have been almost paradisiacal, while now it
was almost a penalty. The hill or range further east seems farther
away now than it did from Mount Olga. It is flat on the summit, and no
doubt is the same high and flat-topped mount I saw from the Sentinel
in August last. We are encamped in the roomy cave, for we find it much
warmer than in the outer atmosphere, warmth being as great a
consideration now, as shade had formerly been.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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