28 September 1933

AN EARLY DAY BUSHRANGER

When The Police Went After Morgan

This is an episode of the early days, when the country between Adelaide and Encounter Bay was thickly timbered, and the wilds held all sorts of unexpected surprises for those who dared them.

There were no real bushmen in the late thirties. No one bad then been long enough in South Australia to acquire the art of bushcraft. But certain unsavory characters roamed the thickly timbered country, and preyed on lonely travellers.

One such man was Morgan. He, with some companions, operated in the country between Adelaide and Encounter Bay. Morgan was 'wanted' for attempted murder.

One day, three inexperienced young men, who had been sworn in as special constables, were detailed to capture Morgan. Each man received a water bottle and provisions for eight days, and the party was furnished with an aboriginal to act as guide. Their instructions were to bring in their prisoner dead or alive.

The second day out the native deserted, and they pushed on alone, encountering innumerable hardships. But on the outward trek luck was with them. They surprised their quarry lying in his bunk at his camp. He was taken without trouble. That came later.

The prisoner was handcuffed to one of the young policemen, and a start made for town. Provisions were running short. Morgan seemed to be quiet and well-behaved, and not the bloodthirsty type he was reputed. When the party lost their bearings Morgan offered to guide them back to town. The offer was accepted. Not until they found themselves on high land did they suspect that Morgan was tricking them. He was leading them towards the haunt of his companions, hoping they would rescue him.

The party camped for the night. Next morning, when Morgan saw that his ruse had been discovered, he became stubborn and refused to proceed. Neither threats nor cajolery would move him. 'You can shoot me if you like,' he said, 'but I'll not budge.'

All that day was wasted trying to persuade the prisoner to move on. Meanwhile the water was getting low, and there was no means of replenishing supplies. The officers decided the only thing to do was to tie the prisoner to a tree, go on for help, and return later for their man. They pushed his back against a tree trunk, passed his hands behind him, and locked the handcuffs on his wrists. Then they left him.

It was four days before they returned. Then they found a docile and repentant Morgan. His sufferings had been terrible. He had been unable to lie down. He could not sleep at night on account of the wild dogs, which kept snapping at his feet. He could only keep them off by kicking at them. By day the flies and mosquitoes had been unendurable. He gave no more trouble, and was eventually lodged in gaol.— 'MJ.B.,' Macclesfield.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956064

Not What They Expected

The twelve-year-old boy and his elder brother had been trapping rabbits all, winter. Then they resolved to try ferreting. They set out early one morning. 'You put the ferrets in there, and I'll put the nets in place,' said John to the lad. Having finished their tasks they sat down to wait.

In a short time fifteen rabbits were chased into the nets. They bagged them up, expecting others to come out shortly. By twelve o'clock nothing more had happened. John went home to dinner, leaving the younger lad to watch. When he returned, his brother said, 'The ferrets seem slow. I suppose we'll have to try to dig them out.'

Just as it was getting dark a rumbling was heard in the burrow. The boys quickly got ready. There was a flash, and a big fox bounded out, taking the net with it. John was too astonished to do anything. The young lad, however, seized the gun and shot the fox while it was struggling to free itself from the net. 'That finishes ferreting for me, John,' said his brother, with a smile, 'if they bring out animals that big.'— 'Marleen,' Forster.

Not What They Expected (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956066

Bush Burials

The outbacker has some queer experiences. In 1868, I was a lad of 10 years. I had been sent to Board's Plain, ten miles from Blinman, to bring in a mare and foal. I met a woman carrying a child in her arms, with two walking beside her. All were crying. She was walking to Blinman to report the sudden death of her husband.

I told her to go back home, and that I would send the police out. I did. The coroner and the jury went out, too. When we got there I was about to ride, off when the sergeant said to my father, "Don't let the lad go, Ned. I'm a juryman short."

So at ten years of age I served on a jury probably a record. I have never forgotten that bush burial. The corpse was no heavier than a child. We sank a hole about four feet deep, wrapped the body in an old rug, and buried it. Since then I have sunk many a hole beside the remains of some defunct bushman, and put him in it with his swag and billy can — and sometimes the remains of his faithful old dog, too.— C. E. Roberts, Blinman.

Bush Burials (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956065

Dingo Menace

When land in the hundred of Stokes was first taken up, dingoes were trouble some. One settler (Mr. Gale) had half grown calves so injured that he was forced to destroy them. My father owned the 'Kokaleechie' estate, and in order to protect his sheep he had 3,000 acres encircled with a 7 ft. 'dog-proof netting fence. It was possible, in exceptional cases, for a dingo to jump over a fence that high, but very few did so. They preferred to look for an opening near the ground.

It was nothing unusual for a couple of dingoes to kill 30 or 40 sheep in a night. A farmer would not have begrudged them an occasional sheep to satisfy their hunger; it was the wholesale slaughtering of their flocks that raised their anger.

When the dog-proof fence was put around my father's land traps were set and baits laid for dingoes still inside. One morning a dingo's paw was found in a trap. It had been chewed off. The ground showed signs of the terrific struggle the animal had put up to free itself. A trail of blood led into the bushes, but the dingo was not found. But some time later a large dingo was shot, and had only three paws and a stump.

In spite of the fence, the sheep were mustered and put into yards every night. Every evening I heard the blood-curdling howl of dingoes outside the fence. It was a sound that always made my blood run cold! Nowadays, a dingo could not be found within a hundred miles of the district.— 'R.V.H.,' Yeelanna.

Dingo Menace (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956068

First Viceregal Ball

When Adelaide was roadless bush, and Governor Hindmarsh lived with his family in a thatch-roofed hut on the banks of the Torrens, he decided to give a ball in honor of the birthday of Queen Victoria. This was the first vice regal function in South Australia, Adelaide then was mostly a city of tents, and life was primitive.

News of the function caused wild excitement among the tiny population, and the women had a wonderful time rummaging among their trunks for the finery they had brought from England, and putting it in order for the great event.

When the night arrived it was a strange sight to see dainty women in ballroom dresses emerge from canvas homes, and climb into the bullock drays which served as carriages. The journey to the Torrens was made by zig-zagging through the forest.

When one party arrived at Government Hut it was found that, in the excitement of the occasion, the high chair which the women had used for mounting the waggon had been left behind. They had to descend by jumping into the arms of their male escorts. There was a zest about that ball which has probably never been exceeded since, and the little colony had something to talk about for weeks.— 'M.J.B.,' Macclesfield.

First Viceregal Ball (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956067

How Carter Left Gaol

For coolness and daring nothing in the criminal history of South Australia has equalled the escape from the Adelaide Gaol of a man named Carter. He was a convict of New South Wales, and was the first man to get away from the prison in the north-west park lands.

Prior to the erection of this building the gaol was of wood, and the desperate characters of the day found no difficulty in taking French leave. That was why the authorities built the stone place, surrounded it with high walls, and surmounted the walls with three or four feet of loose bricks which would crash to the ground if prisoners tried to scramble over. That, at all events, was the theory.

It was in this supposedly secure 'jug' that Carter was incarcerated after his arrest for running away from Sydney. He determined to escape. The prisoners were given brooms with which to clean out their cells. These had exceptionally long handles. Carter found that it was possible to reach the top of the loose bricks provided he could balance himself on a broom held up by a confederate. He succeeded in doing this, and got over the loose bricks without dislodging them.

He now found himself in another walled yard, patrolled by armed guards. The prisoner had dressed himself for the occasion in a pair of carpenter's overalls and cap. With pencil and paper in hand he boldly approached a guard, passed the time of day, and said he had been sent to measure the sentry boxes, as new ones were to be provided. He was conducted to the boxes; and set about measuring them with the air of an expert tradesman. Then he stood chatting to the guard, the while passing critical remarks about the masons at work on the outer walls. After this he made a cursory examination of the sentry boxes near the gate, and remarking that they were the same pattern as those inside, bade the warder good day, and walked off in the direction of the city.

The next the authorities heard of him was from the Bremer. There he stole a horse, saddle, and bridle, and made his way toward the 'Murray. He was arrested by a young trooper there, but made his escape on the way back to Adelaide. Then a party of experienced police scoured the bush for him for fourteen days. He was located near Mount Crawford, arrested, and sent back to Sydney. The officers, arrived back in town with their horses utterly exhausted.— 'M.J.B.,' Macclesfield.

How Carter Left Gaol (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956070

Neddy, The Mule

On Lake Torrens Station there were two mules, Jenny and Neddy. Jenny never made history. The tales of Neddy would fill a book. He was the cunningest, cussedest animal that ever stood on hoofs, and much of his life was spent that way. No one could make him work.

But Tom, the hut-keeper, declared he was not going to be outed by a blinking mule. Neddy would jump any fence made. Tom put a chain on him, but he still got away. He made the chain longer— same result. It was a puzzle how he could jump, or crawl through a fence, handicapped by a length of chain with a double hook on the end. Some times he got caught; often he didn't. Tom hid and watched him. Neddy would lie down and roll over. If the chain wasn't over his back when he got up, he would have another roll. With the chain hanging over his back, instead of dragging, it was about a 50 per cent, chance that he could clear the fence without getting caught.

Tom ultimately became good friends with Neddy by feeding, and kind treatment. He taught him to work the whim at the well. It took infinite patience; not that Neddy was hard to teach, but because he didn't want to learn. The task was accomplished at last by blind-folding him. It wasn't long before Tom noticed that the mule could do the job on his own. He used to harness him, blindfold him, and start him off. When the tank was full, it would run over, and as soon as Neddy heard that sound he stopped dead. No amount of feed, coaxing, or blindfolding would get him to do a tap more work that day. He was a real Australian mule.— Auntie Bee, Ceduna.

Neddy, The Mule (1933, September 28). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 17. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90956027