No 27 Wirrabara

You are apt to form different impressions of Wirrabara, according to the day of the week you "strike" it. From Sunday to Friday it is in a somnolent mood, and is apt to ask you drowsily what you want. On Saturday it awakes to full life.

That day the men come in from the forest, the farmers come to town for their week's supplies, and as you essay the passage of the ultra-wide street which forms the main thoroughfare you are likely to find yourself involved in the gymnastics of racing cars, unless you practice the alertness of a sentry or the slickness of a thimble and pea expert.

Wirrabara is busy on Saturdays. The storekeepers hand out sugar by the bag, jam by the case, and biscuits by the tin. There is no "penn'orth" of this and "hap'orth" of that, such as constitutes a large part of the daily trading of the city. Wirrabara deals in bulk. What I liked best about the place was its general atmosphere of northern friendliness. Saturday was a day of reunion. Everyone knew everybody else. Everybody was shaking hands. All over the place were little groups chatting and laughing, and taking sly peeps at me — a stranger.

Have you ever noticed how girls look at a man they don't know? There is none of the honest, "Now, who the devil are you?" in their glance. They just look past you at some object in the distance, and all the time they are taking stock of every button on your coat, every wrinkle on your face, how your hair is parted, what color your eyes are, how much your clothes cost, and what sort of polish you use on your shoes. And if a friend says to them, "Did you notice that man?" they answer, unblushingly. "No not particularly." But, girls, you don't deceive the men — only yourselves. We are fully conscious of the interest in that "indifferent" glance of yours.

Another impression I received at Wirrabara was that it was a town of babies. I don't think I ever saw so many in proportion to the population. Every adult woman seemed to have one. It seemed to me that it was not only in the matter of agriculture that the season had been prolific.

Honestly, I liked Wirrabara. I could see that it was solid, and prosperous, and hospitable, and friendly— a happy atmosphere unknown to we of the city.

Story Of Wirrabara Forest

The trouble with us Australians is that we do not sufficiently appreciate the value of trees. The trouble with us South Australians is that we do not sufficiently interest ourselves in the excellent work which the Department of Forestry is doing. Has it ever struck you that South Australia is in a unique position in that it has no natural forests? I do not want to weary you with a long dissertation on the reasons for this. What I want to say is that if you have no natural woods, then for all sorts of reasons it is necessary to provide them. That is what is being done at the Government plantations in Wirrabara — and other parts of the State as well. Roughly, there are 250,000 acres of these plantations in the State. That might sound a lot. But it isn't. Tasmania, a little dustspeck which one could almost put in one's vest pocket, can beat us with 1,500,000 acres. Some of the other States boast of 5,000,000 acres. So South Australia, which has no natural forests at all, is quite justified in playing the role of Oliver Twist — and asking for more.

Wirrabara is, I suppose, the most important of all our plantations. With the exception of Bundaleer, which is two years its senior, it is the oldest in the State. It is at Wirrabara that most of the important demonstrations and experiments in forestry are conducted. It is an up-to-date timber farm.

The man who did most to direct attention to the arboreal deficiencies of South Australia was F. E. Krichauff, M.P., away back in 1870. That date sounds almost like the dark ages today, and the present generation knows little or nothing of Mr. Krichauff. But in the seventies he was a noted figure in the public life of the colony, being several times a member of the House of Assembly, and later of the Legislative Council, and, for a brief period, a Minister of the Crown. It was he who, 62 years ago, moved in Parliament for the creation of forest reserves of native timber, and the planting of State forests, the outcome of which was the establishment of Bundaleer in 1876, and of Wirrabara in 1878. Mr. Krichauff, therefore, must be regarded as the "father" of forestry in South Australia. Wirrabara timber matured more quickly than that in the older Bundaleer reserve. This circumstance gave it the importance it now occupies as the chief timber centre of the State.

By 1881 it was able to supply a large quantity of hardwood required for the construction of the main northern railway. A few years later, when the pinus insignus came to maturity, the Murray fruitgrowers were supplied with cases made from Wirrabara pine.

Costly Inexperience

Today the South Australian forests are supplying softwoods equal to any in the world. But it was not always so. As the result of inexperience in the seasoning of woods, the State product received a bad advertisement years ago. It is only now recovering from the jolt. A huge quantity of imperfectly dried pine was put on the market. It was so unseasoned that carpenters driving nails into it found the cap spurting into their faces. After that "the trade" would not look at South Australian pine. The department then did some hard thinking. They realised the truth of the business axiom that to make money you have to spend money. A proper kiln seasoning plant was secured, with experienced men to work it. Nowadays there is a ready sale for the home grown product.

The present area of Wirrabara forest is 16,460 acres. At the end of June, 1929, it was 17,498 acres. What I want to know is, what happened to the other thousand-odd acres? That is a sort of "earth movement" which doesn't appeal to me. The area ought to be greater, not smaller.

Birth Of The Firefighters

We all know the stories of stark tragedy arising from bush fires. It was at Wirrapara in 1916 that measures were co-ordinated to fight this menace. The system then evolved has since spread. Today it is almost in general use throughout the State. Prior to the inauguration of the Wirrabara system, fighting bush fires was a disorganised kind of business. The conflagrations did a great deal more damage than they should have done, you see, everybody -was his own "boss." There were no recog nised leaders. Men pleased themselves whether they carried out orders or ignored them. Where you have that sort of thing you have chaos. Lord preserve me from a "bossless" world— with all due deference to our friends in Grote street.

The Wirrabara bush fire system was organised by the local council. Briefly, it appointed recognised leaders to control and direct the fire fighters, provided apparatus, and ar ranged a system of summoning help to the scene of any outbreak. It also laid down a proper organisation to keep the fighting line supplied with food and drinking water. Then it got its authority backed by an Act of Parliament. Nowadays firefighting is a sort of minor military operation, in which discipline and proper direction play an important part.

But, distinct from the general bushfire brigade, the Wirrabara forest authorities have their own system of combating outbreaks on the plantation. This comprises an extensive system of firebreaks by which the forest is divided into compartments of 30 acres each. From various out posts telephones connect with the headquaters of the foresters, while a system, of lookout towers at strategic points enables an early alarm to be given in the hot season.

Fire is not the only ill that trees are heir to. There are worse pests — and the smaller they are the worse they are. You can shoot an elephant, but you can't shoot a microbe. In 1890-97 thousands of young eucalypts were wiped out by a plague of locusts at Wirrabara. At Penola a few years ago 500,000 Pinus insignis were lost through the ravages of the cut worm, and the million or so remaining were only saved by liberal spraying with arsenate of lead. I mention the Penola incident to show how extensive damage by pests can be.

Destruction Of Bird Life

The forester is the friend of the bird, just as the bird is the friend of the forester. That locusts, cut worm, and other parasites of tree life get a stranglehold of young trees is due, so the woodmen say, to the destruction of birds by poison. No one poisons birds intentionally. But the practice of laying baits for rabbits wipes the birds out in thousands. Much better, and much more effective, say the knights of the forest to destroy bunny by pumping carbon monoxide into his residential flat. I have quoted my authority on the destruction of the long-eared evil because my own acquaintance with him begins and (ends with an occasional meeting at the luncheon table.

When you come to think of it, it is an amazing thing that the State never had any virgin forests — that is, of course, within the last million years or so. My memory does not go further back than that, though, I believe, the geologists will tell you that there was a time prior to the trifle of eternity I have mentioned when the now arid north had forests, and big rivers, and inland seas which must have made the interior of the continent a delight to prehistoric Australians. If you want to know something about those halcyon days you will have to talk to Professor Howchin. He knows more about them than I do.

It is because Nature in modern times has been so unkind in the matter of arboreal decorations in South Australia that Mr. Julius (Conservator of Forests) and his predecessors have had to provide them. That South Australia alone in the Empire has had to face the job is something of which the citizens can be proud. They can be more proud of that than of having carried out the Premiers' Plan, or of being the highest taxed community in the world!

The biggest day in the history of Wirrabara forest came in May, 1903. Then they began the milling of their home-grown pine. Sir Richard Butler (I don't think he was Sir Richard then) went to Wirrabara as Commissioner of Forests, and out the first plank of pine with the newly installed machines. The plantation was then just 25 years old. That timber was turned into fruit cases, and ever since then the Wirrabara mill has been industriously employed. At Wirrabara they grow ash, oak, chestnuts, willows, walnuts, pines, and gums. Now they produce hardwoods for sleepers, bridges, girders, piles, poles, and building timber— and as much softwood as you like. They are doing it in other forests as well— but that has nothing to do with the story of Wirrabara.

Some Early History

When I got to Wirrabara, Ex-Councillor W. H. Jettner had several residents who had known the town since the year one, ready to palaver with me about its beginning, and its transgressions ever since. They were Messrs. Joseph Hollitt, W. O. Lewis. W. Dansie, J. H. Klemm, and Harry Johnson.

Just how far back some of these old people go will be realised when I tell you there was no Wirrabara when Mr. Dansie happened into the locality. The only settlement within miles of the place was Stone Hut, so named be cause the stone hut, which still stands there, was the only landmark of civilisation in the bushlands of the day.

Stone Hut stands on the banks of the Rocky about six miles south of Wirrabara, was built by one of the Whites, the pioneer pastoralists of the country, whose story I will give presently. The hut and a wooden store constituted the "town," and was the only definite point to which the mailman could direct enquiring northern travellers. Wirrabara was just timbered country entirely given over to sheep. There was a similar nucleus of a town about twelve miles north of the site of Wirrabara called Wild Dog Creek, but now rechristened Murray Town, after the father of the present Chief Justice. The pastoralist who owned the Wild Dog Creek run in those days was named Yates, but I can give you no details about him. The property was later included in the Wirrabara estate.

Wirrabara Station

When you look at the magnificent pine forest close to Wirrabara, you are reminded of the White brothers, the pioneer pastoralists who owned this country in the days before Wirrabara was. They were Samuel White and Frederick White. Their advent as wool growers here is somewhere between the late forties and the early fifties. Their sister, who became Mrs. Herbert Bristow Hughes, gave her Christian name to Laura. The Whites were not new to the pastoral business when they went to Wirrabara. They had had some hectic years near Port Lincoln, where they found the native menace too much for their peace of mind. So they left. Their holdings about what is now Wirrabara were 87 square miles in the hundred of Appila and 95 square miles, at Wongyarra, afterwards known as White Park.

We who today travel in luxury in 20,000 ton liners, can scarcely imagine the sort of adventure a voyage from England to Australia was a hundred years ago. The William Parrass, which brought the White brothers to this country in 1839, was of 272 tons. Fancy tossing about the ocean for months in a cockle shell of that size!

And having got here - what? Scab, drought, blackfellows, outlaws, illimitable bush, no roads, heat, discomfort, and isolation!

Something of what the settlers of the forties had to put up with has been left on record by Captain Tolmer, who made a journey into this territory in April, 1846, in search of blackfellows who had murdered two shepherds and stolen a number of sheep. "It was grievous to think," he says, "that the ends of justice were frequently defeated on these occasions owing to the unavoidable length of time before the police from Adelaide could arrive on the scene of the outrages, and when they got there it was with the greatest difficulty that the savages could be found in the almost inaccessible fastnesses of the Flinders Ranges, as there were not the advantages of railways and telegraphs in the days I write about. Thus these outrages continued with impunity, and the lives and property of the settlers were kept in jeopardy in consequence, until the mounted police force was augmented, and stations were formed at Clare, Bungaree, and Mount Remarkable."

It was on this journey, which was continued as far as Mount Brown, that Tolmer called twice at the Whites' station. After the White's left Wirrabara the station was held by a succession of noted pastoralists — C. B. Fisher, W. D. Fisher, and George Tinline, and Alexander Murray.

The Murrays were the last holders of the estate, which has now mostly been cut up into agricultural blocks. In a small square of Wirrabara is a monument erected to the memory of Alexander Scott Murray (brother of the Chief Justice), who died there in 1880, at the age of 34. He must have been a very popular fellow, because all the people I questioned to ascertain if there was a story behind the memorial, had the one opinion — "he was a lovable man." When people continue to say that about you over half a century after your death you can depend upon it that there is something real about the sentiment. Incidentally, Mr. Murray was the first man buried in Wirrabara.

One of the early residents whom I questioned said reminiscently. "Alexander Murray had to go to Adelaide in a coach to get married!" Then he proceeded to give me a picture of the primitive travelling conditions of the seventies. The coach ran from Adelaide to the Blinman. It took a week to make the journey from the city and back. It passed through Wirrabara every Friday, and was generally full. One of the earliest drivers my informant could remember was Johnny Morgan. Three miles north of Wirrabara, at a place called Charlton, an ostler used to wait with fresh horses. His house is still standing. At the same spot was an eating house conducted by Jack Jones. There used to be a lot of horse duffing in the early days, and one of the most prominent of the horse thieves was a woman. The "borrowed" neddies were generally taken across the Barrier Ranges, which was the name of Broken Hill in the days before it discovered its own importance, and there they were sold.

This Wirrabara land is good country, the "Tatiara" of the north. It will grow anything. Fruit is one of its biggest industries. "Where does it go?" I asked. My friend looked at me with a queer expression, as though amazed at my ignorance. "All over the world." he answered. And so it does. The country on the western side, between Murray Town and Stone Hut, is one huge orchard — apples, oranges, pears, peaches. Henry Copas started the first garden in the early seventies. It was merged into the Northern Areas Fruit Association. Besides the garden at Wirrabara they had another at Laura. Wheat and wool are the other staple products.

Bentley's Hill

A local landmark is Bentley's Hill. This is how it got its name:— A farmer named Bentley and his wife had a property in the vicinity. Mrs. Bentley died suddenly, and was buried. After a while rumors began circulating, and the police made enquiries. The body of the woman was exhumed, and the medical evidence was that Mrs. Bentley had been murdered by smothering. Her husband was arrested. After being charged with the offence, he was released on bail, and absconded. He was never seen again. The legend persisted for years that the "ghost" of Mrs. Bentley used to haunt the creek about the anniversary of the murder, and that while it was there the water refused to flow. The body of this unfortunate woman rests in Mount Remarkable cemetery.

In 1879 Wirrabara consisted of a couple of stone buildings and about eight wooden humpies. The arrival of the first four-wheeled bullock waggon created as much interest as would the opening of an air service today. The "bullockies" stood round gaping at it in wonder. Then one of them summed up his impression thus — "If you get bogged with two wheels, how the hell are you going to get out with four?"

The early educational history of the town is not without interest. Unfortunately I can give no dates. To Miss Lucy Halliday belongs the honor of conducting the first school. This was in the front room of a small wooden cottage belonging to Mr. Wylie, which was located opposite Mannin's store. She saw Wirrabara's small urchins running wild and uncared for, and started the school in a small way for their benefit, though it is doubtful if they appreciated the boon conferred on them. In those times, of course, education, even the most elementary, was a luxury. Only recently I was looking at a memorial presented to the Government in 1875, and I was amazed at the number of names, well known today, bearing the tell-tale brand: — his Bill X Jones mark.

Eventually Miss Halliday, following the normal course of most "misses," asquired a husband and lost a school. For some years after that Wirrabara was without an educational institution, until Miss Hotchin filled the breach by starting one in the Wesleyan Church. Next came the first Government school with Mr. S. B. Roberts as master. This was held in a building which is now the teacher's residence.

Records In Brief

Space is petering out, and I must hurry on. I can only give you the briefest resume of the more important points of Wirrabara's early days. The first two stores went up simultaneously — one for Andy Clark and one for --- Marshall. The Wesleyans were the first religious body in the district. The Rev. John Thoirne preached in the house of Mr. Hollitt before the church was built. Today there are five denominations— Anglican, Roman Catholic, Methodists, Lutherans, and Salvation Army— for a population of 600. Hughes' Gap across the Flinders Ranges, the pass by which traffic from the east reaches Port Pirie, was put through at the request of several early Wirrabara settlers, among them Messrs. George Hollitt, Hugo Becker, Sam Miller, James Milne, and Joseph Woolford. This enabled wheat to be sent to Port Germein for shipment.

Early Wirrabara was thickly timbered country, growing red and blue gum, and peppermint, yacca, and porcupine grass. The first post-office was in Clark's store (now Manning's), and an employe who looked after the letters. Ralph Ridgeway, was virtually the first postmaster. The mail used to arrive by a coach drawn by five horses. The present post-office building was built by a man named Victorsen (presumably the Victorsens of Clare), for a store, and was purchased from him by the Government. The Wirrabara Hotel was built by --- . Farley, and was leased by Sam Miller, who opened it before the building was completed.

NEXT WEEK: Laura: The War on the Trees

Images:

• Wirrabara in 1876, showing the west side of the main street. Courtesy of the Archives.

• Section of Wirrabara Forest, showing pinus radiata 35 years old.