20 Oct 1932

LOST CHILD'S REMARKABLE ENDURANCE

THREE DAYS AND THREE NIGHTS WITHOUT FOOD

A tiny youngster was lost in the bush for three days and three nights. He wandered eighteen miles over all kinds of obstacles. How he was tracked down by a big body of searchers, including black trackers, is told in the narrative below.

Tiny Tot's Adventure.

— On Wednesday, April 22, 1896, a little boy, 3½ years old, son of a farmer, of Baroota North, was lost in the bush. All through the night the mother's voice could be heard calling, 'Davie.' Morning came and there was no trace of the lost child. On Thursday morning the schoolchildren formed into parties to assist the older folk in again scouring the scrub. Many neighbors joined in the search, and with the assistance of two blacktrackers, the youngster was tracked into the Winninowie swamps, where it was feared he might have fallen into the creek or been drowned by the rising tide. However, the tracks of his little bare feet showed he had safely crossed the swamps. But after passing the swamps, owing to the hard and stony nature of the ground, the greatest difficulty was experienced by the trackers. For several miles, to the eyes of the white folk, not a trace of the little, bare feet could be seen, and had it not been for the black trackers the party would have worked on the old theory that any person when lost in the bush, will keep travelling round in a circle. If this had been done the child would probably never have been found alive.

But, whether owing to the keenness of their eyesight or to the instinct peculiar to their race, the blacks kept pushing onward, mile after mile, until at last a patch of soft sand was crossed where the little footmarks convinced the. anxious searchers that they were not on a false trail. On Friday morning, at daybreak. Mounted Constable Blake, of Port Germein, with about 60 others, took up the hunt. The child was traced into Nectar Brook Creek. On the north side of this creek a vermin proof fence was erected. Owing to the stony country here, not a sign could be found of the boy having crossed this fence. Many of the searchers were of the opinion that, after having travelled so far without food or water, it would be almost impossible for him to climb over it. Again strong hopes were entertained of finding him in the creek, and the party were not satisfied until every yard of ground arid every tree and bush along the creek had been examined. On Friday evening, when the sun went down, the blacks had lost the tracks, and the party, having searched in vain, were almost disheartened. The poor father and mother were bowed down in sorrow. It was pitiful to see them when they knew their child would have to pass his third night in the cold, hungry and uncared for, except by that kind Providence who appears to watch over the most helpless of His creatures. While the party were searching the creek, the trackers had disappeared. No one seemed to know where they were.

When darkness set in, they returned with the news that they had picked up the tracks at some distance on the north side of the vermin-proof fence. It was no too dark to follow the trail, and it was arranged that fires should be lighted by those who were camping out. On Saturday morning, at day break, the two trackers started on horseback from Mr. Willoughby's farm near Lime Stone Well, to try and pick up the tracks on a cross road about two miles north. The trackers, followed by a number of the searchers, after riding several miles, dismounted, left their horses on the road, and went through a paddock to the north. The party behind expecting that the tracks had been picked up, followed, but for some distance the ground was so hard that even the footmarks of the trackers could not be seen.

At last the ground became softer. At first appeared the footmarks of the blacktrackers, and then, between them, the faint print of the little bare feet. This was followed to Mr. Moseley's vermin proof fence, running east of lame Stone Well. This fence was even more formidable than the two already passed. There was no sign of his having got over it. The ground again being too hard for the trackers, several hours were spent in vain searching back among the bushes. At length the fence was cut, and the party went forward across Horrock's Creek, a couple of miles further north.

There, about eighteen miles from home, was the lost child, in a hollow place in the ground, lying flat on his back, one arm across his forehead and the other hand holding the end of his brace, which he was chewing. He had his eyes open and appeared to be quietly watching the party. Mounted Constable Blake picked him up and gave him small sips of weak brandy and water. Some of the others lit a fire and made a big smoke to signal the glad news to the rest of the eighty to a hundred men and boys, who were searching the hills, creeks, and flats for miles around. As the glad news was signalled, a great shout went up. The father jumped for joy, while to the mother it seemed as if her boy was given back from the dead. The child had been three days and three nights without food and water, and had travelled eighteen miles or more. He had gone all the way as nearly as possible in the one direction. — 'Wattle Blossom,' Port Germein.

'Joys' Of Pioneer Ways.

— Some time in 1867 a young married couple who may be called Bob and Joan, went to Port Lincoln to work on a station. The husband was given a flock of sheep to shepherd near Mount Wedge.

The hut Bob and Joan had to live in was wattle and daub, with a dirt floor. A small hole in the wall served for a window. A tiny table with folding legs hung by hinges to the wall, and when not wanted it was dropped against the wall to make space in the small hut. Two gum logs sawn off and sunk in the floor served as seats at each end of the table. The whole of one end of the hut was occupied by a huge stone fireplace, with a bar of iron across the wide chimney, on which to suspend a three-legged pot and a billy can. At one side stood a camp oven, also three-legged. and high banked with the cold ashes of many fires. The other end was taken up by what Joan in her greenness thought was a rack for drying meat on. But the man who had brought them to the hut, on the ration cart explained that this was a bed. It was made of four posts driven in the floor, with mallee rails nailed across.

Joan surveyed the place with dismay, for she was fresh from London and every comfort. But with true grit she had a good laugh instead of a cry. The worst trial was blacks, Joan had to stay alone all day unless she went out with Bob.

One day Bob took his wife to a plain near the hut. where quandong trees were In their beauty. Joan was delighted, and filled her apron with the scarlet berries. Bob went on with his flock and Joan, on coming around the scrub, saw to her horror a blackfellow, clad only in a shirt. He had come out of her hut. She advanced bravely, and saw the black run for the bush. On a hill not far distant she saw a large mob of natives making a camp.

Joan rushed inside and found everything upset. Flour, tea, and sugar had been taken. Too nervous to stay inside, she walked up and down all day, watching the blacks. Then she saw a nigger creeping through the bush near the well. Knowing that blacks feared a gun, Joan shouldered a shepherd's crook and marched boldly toward a big gumtree, where she believed the man to be hiding. In good English she told him he would be shot if he didn't clear out. How much the black understood is hard to say. But he did not come out of hiding till some time after the brave woman had gone back to the hut. Then she saw him, spears in hand, hurrying toward the camp on the hill. Her husband shortly after arrived with his flock, and her ordeal was over. The story shows the stuff the English pioneers were made of. — 'R.S.H.,' Streaky Bay.

Story Of Salt Lagoon.

— At Hog Bay many years ago, a young married man was charged with unlawfully setting a gun to catch a supposed burglar. This man lived at Salt Lagoon, about 12 miles out of the township. He owned a farm and a store there.

As there was no proper store at Hog Bay, he started a branch business in an old dwelling house, coming in on Saturdays and Mondays to attend to it. Noticing that for several weeks in succession someone had been helping himself to cigarettes, sweets, and other luxuries, he conceived the idea of fixing a gun so that it would go off when the door was opened. The store was usually locked and the key left with a neighbor.

The gun was set one Saturday night. On the Monday morning the owner was startled to learn that a local boy, a lad of about 15, had been shot in the thigh. The lad was taken to town in a fishing boat. The gun was supposed to hit the intruder on the legs, but in setting it no allowance had been made for a step at the door.

As the store keeper was friendly with the family, he was much upset, and offered to pay all expenses. But that did not save him from standing his trial in Adelaide for unlawfully wounding. He was found 'not guilty.' The wounded lad eventually recovered.

The Salt Lagoon store was burnt down about 20 years ago, and never rebuilt. The site of the settlement is marked today by ruins of houses and the school where settlers with their families used to live is now a sheep run. — 'Old Penneshaw Resident,' Newstead.

[See also HOG BAY SHOOTING CASE. (1893, October 21). South Australian Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1889 - 1895), p. 12. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92799210 ]

Topsy Finds Her Mate.

— My brother, wishing to visit friends about seven miles from home, one evening mounted his pony Bess and rode off. Arriving at his destination, he turned his pony loose in the yard. On going to get her he found that she had gone.

After searching for her in vain, in the dark, he arrived home in the early hours of the morning, tired and worried, as she was a valuable animal. After a few hours' rest, he started out again to look for her.

My sister, aged ten, owned a roan mare named Topsy. Making up her mind to try her luck, my sister set out, too, on Topsy. Being undecided which direction to take, she let Topsy make the choice. After wandering up hill and down dale for about two hours, the mare turned in a direction she had never been before. Suddenly she quickened her pace, and, pricking up her ears, made off for a fenced reserve. There she whinnied to a mob of grazing horses.

To my sister's surprise out slipped Miss Bess from among the mob, tossing her head. With her mane and tail flying in the wind she pranced up to the fence, looking very cheeky, as if to say, 'Catch me if you can.' Then, turning, she kicked up her heels and galloped off with the mob.

My sister got my brother on the scene, and when he saw Bess he was so excited that he rushed in among the careering animals, made a flying leap, and, flinging his arms around the neck of Bess, hung on for dear life. It was dangerous, but had the desired effect. The pony got such a surprise that she sat down on her hind legs, and he was able to put on the halter. Had it not been for Topsy, Bess would never have been found. — Evelyn Jones, Mount Barker.