28 December 1933

'HIGH SOCIETY' WEDDING 

ROYAL NATIVE CEREMONY

In the early seventies, at Boorkooyanna, Point Pierce, was celebrated the marriage of 'Prince John,' the acknowledged heir of 'Tom the King,' and the dusky maiden of his choice. The ceremony took place at the mission station of the Yorke Peninsula Aborigines Friends' Association, under unusual circumstances.

At 11 am. there were evident signs of the approaching event. The natives gathered wearing holiday dress and indulging in ringing laughter. The day before a conveyance had been sent for the 'king and queen,' who were some miles away at the royal wurley, feasting on kangaroo and 'blackie pie.' The bridegroom-elect acted as coachman. Their majesties were accompanied to the station by a favorite few. Having arrived, they reported themselves and passed the night in the open air. 

Next morning the king, a man advanced in years and rather grey, appeared in striped trousers which were a little too tight for him. His coat, however, was of excellent cloth and admirable fit. It showed his fine proportions to advantage. His Crimean shirt was scrupulously clean. Boots he had none, and his royal big toe seemed to have seen such active service in the battle of life. His brow bore no diadem or insignia of royal descent, but had an ample crop of curly black hair that seemed to testify an absolute liberty to run wild. He was about 5 ft. 9 in. in height and a little over 12 st. in weight, with broad, square shoulders, light limbs, and broad, flat feet. 

The sovereign's eyes were full and clear and he could look one straight in the face. His organs of benevolence, veneration, and firmness were fully-developed, especially the last, while his combativeness was less than his acquisitiveness. Contrary to what might have been expected, moral faculties were more prominent than animal. 

The queen was a fine specimen of her race, considerably over average size. Her cranium indicated natural ability and good temper; yet, contrary to the opinion that all lubras are slaves to their husbands, she manifested the fact that she had a will of her own. For instance, when the king ordered her to go three hundred yards on a message, she absolutely refused, told him to go himself, and the autocrat obeyed. An old misanthrope suggested that this was one of the surest signs of civilisation and refinement in female life. The bride-elect was an honor to her tribe and a great favorite at the mission station, where she had been for six or seven years. She was able to read and write well. 

The bridegroom was a fine specimen of the genus homo and shared not more than a moiety of the blood of the second son of Noah. He was about middle size, and his physique challenged even a moderately observant eye. 

About 9 o'clock in the morning an unusual occurrence took place, when the King and Queen went to inspect the 'palace' designed for the permanent residence of the young couple. The main entrance had a plain batten door with string and latch. 

The first object that struck attention in the interior was the dining table. Turning towards the fireplace, a mantelshelf and adornings met the eye; flanked on each side by two sets of shelves well furnished with culinary and similar utensils. After gazing at these for some time, and carefully examining some knives and forks, the King burst into a hearty laugh, saying, 'All same as white fellow.' 

The room was furnished with an excellent iron bedstead, a washing stand and sun dry small seats. The parents seemed thoughtful while inspecting the furniture, and his majesty said, 'Me like one house, too.' The interest was heightened when it was known that, under the architectural direction of the Rev. Mr. Kuhn, formerly connected with the Moravian Church, the prince was the builder of his own house. He had also purchased the furniture out of his own savings since he had resided at the station. He had still a respectable balance left which he was reserving for future contingencies. 

Before the ceremony the queen was called into the mission house and dressed in a new robe. It fitted well, and this, with a knot of ribbon at her breast, excited her husband's admiration and approval. But she said very little. The morning was very fine and there was unusual briskness at an early hour. Pots and pans and crockery were rattling merrily under the hasty touch of happy native maidens' fingers, and snatches of whistling and song were borne on the early morning wind. 

At 11 o'clock, the school room presented a striking appearance. Seats were placed in horseshoe fashion for spectators, while on the right of the desk the queen took her place; and the king, who led the bride, having safely left his charge in the care of three bridesmaids, resumed his seat. To the left of the desk, Mrs. Kuhn and her daughters sat, and near them a number of young girls stood in rank, each bearing a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers. The boys stood opposite, similarly equipped. 

The ceremony was performed by the Rev. Mr. Kuhn, assisted by the Rev. Mr. R. G. Bayley, Congregational minister. The bridegroom spoke in a clear full voice, and in a manner and spirit calculated to win approval; and the bride, after a long struggle to control her feelings, wept. Mrs. Kuhn was instantly at her side, and by taking a firm hold of her arm inspire sufficient self possession. 

As soon as the ceremony and the address were over the girls who held bouquets, led by Miss Selina Kuhn, presented them to the princess while the boys handed theirs to the prince. 

The marriage was by special license, and as the pair were under age, the consent of the parents was obtained according to law. King Tom's sign manual, in the form of three heavy crosses, having been witnessed as 'his mark,' refreshments were liberally supplied to all who chose to partake, and then a conveyance to Victoria Bay, where a boat awaited the party. 

Such were the arrangements for a royal marriage at Boorkooyana over sixty years ago.

The Marsupial Mole

A curious little animal, wrapped in a kerosene soaked rag, and encased in a cartridge box, arrived at the Adelaide Museum one day. It had travelled from Central Australia by coach and packhorse a distance of over a thousand miles. 

Of course, it was dead, but kerosene had proved to be a poor preservative, and, until more specimens were sent, the new animal could not be scientifically described. It was the marsupial mole, one of South Australia's queerest animals. 

Several specimens have been found since — chiefly in sandhills in the north central regions, and also on the Nullarbor Plain. They have beautiful fur— silvery white tinged with chestnut brown. 

The marsupial mole is equally at home on the surface or underground. It is a rapid burrower, and as it digs with the horny shield on its snout and its two front legs, it uses its back ones to cover in the burrow. In a second or two all traces of it are lost. These moles do not thrive in captivity. 

Their voice is feeble— a weak chirping sound is all they are capable of producing. Few white people have heard it. The pouch of the marsupial mole opens back wards and varies in size with the season. The animal has no external ears and is apparently blind— in reality it has atrophied eyes.— 'R.V.H.,' Yeelanna.

Old Miner's Fate

Near the picturesque town of Woodside are several old gold mines. Of these the Bird-in-Hand is probably the best known. Altogether, something like £15,000 worth of gold has been taken from this mine; and that in the days before the metal soared to its present height. 

The mine was started in 1880, and, after working off and on for many years, was finally closed on account of difficulty in coping with the water. The main shaft has been boarded over, but on top is a lid, which, on removal, discloses a huge, dark hole which the eye cannot penetrate. A stone thrown through the opening can be heard bumping from side to side until it is many hundreds of feet below. 

On one side of the shaft an old ladder leads into the darkness. A pumping plant has been installed over the mine, and excellent water, used for irrigation and other purposes, is obtained. 

Until a few years ago an old gold miner who was generally referred to as 'Dad' lived at Woodside. He had worked in several of the local mines, including the Bird-in-Hand, and he frequently expressed a desire again to go down one of the old pits before he died. 

With the true miner's enthusiasm he was wont to declare that the gold was there, only waiting for the necessary capital. About eight years ago the pump required attention, and it was found necessary for someone to go down the shaft. Naturally, there were few applicants for the job. 

But there was one. This was Dad's long dreamed of opportunity. Several tried to dissuade him, but the old chap, despite his 70 years, was hale and hearty, and declared that he was the right man for the job. 

Finally it was agreed that he should go down. It was suggested that he should be let down in a cradle attached to a windlass mounted over the shaft. But Dad was indignant at the idea. He would go down the old ladder which he had climbed in bygone years. Efforts to make him change his mind were of no avail. 

Finally the old chap climbed on to the ladder and disappeared down the shaft. Suddenly, from far below, a sound of breaking timber was borne to the ears of the men gathered round the mouth of the mine. There followed the dull thud of a falling body striking the walls of the shaft, and then silence. Calls brought no reply. A young man volunteered to go down. He was lowered by means of the windlass. Far below he found where the rotten timbers of the ladder had given way. Still further down he found the battered body of the old miner. — 'A.H.B.,' Goolwa.

Butter In The Bush

When Telickie Station changed owners, a chap by the name of Charlie Woods and myself had to take about 100 head of cattle over to Burta Station. We were station hands, working for Mr. A. Crossing. 

Among these cattle were two cows in full milk. We set off with two pack horses and two riding hacks. We had to milk the cows morning and night, but they were no trouble. 

Over night we put the milk in a dish, and in the morning skimmed the cream from it. We had a billy can with a tight fitting lid, and put the cream in that. We put the billy in the pack bag, so that it would not get bent. 

At dinner time we unloaded. We thought we would have some cream. But to our surprise we had butter instead. The shaking of the pack had acted as a churn, and all we had to do then was to wash the butter with a little water out of the water bags, and add a pinch of salt. So we had fresh butter every day for the next three weeks— rather a 'throw in' for two bushmen on the move. 

We arrived with our little mob all right, but for days afterwards we missed our cream and butter, and wished we were back on the track.— G. J. Malycha, Andamooka Station.

When Lizzie Bailed Up

It is sometimes difficult to break the habits of a life time. 

An elderly South Eastern farmer was induced to purchase a Ford car. He was slightly absent-minded, and had been accustomed to driving horses all his life. 

Not infrequently people among in the car with him were surprised to hear him say, "Get up, whoa," or "come on." On getting out he would sometimes start looking for a rope to tie up with. As he did not have a suitable place for the car it was kept in the cowshed. 

One day he cranked 'Lizzie,' and, as the clutch bands were binding, the car moved off. The steering wheel was hard over on lock, and the car started round the yard right on the tracks of the farmer. After the third lap the car ran into the cow bail. With a cry of "Bail up," the old gentleman seized a leg rope and tied a half hitch around Lizzie's hind wheel. 

He afterwards remarked, "Some of these new-fangled things are all right, but they take a —— of a lot of getting used to."

— A.H.B., Goolwa