6 December 1934

WHEN ADELAIDE VOLUNTEERS PREPARED FOR RUSSIAN INVASION 

Amusing Incidents In Russian War Scare Of 1885

Nearly 50 years ago Australia was in fear of a Russian invasion, and much activity was shown by the various volunteer forces in existence at the time to fit themselves for the expected war. 

It was an open secret among them that a surprise call to arms would take place some time about the middle of April, 1885, to test their efficiency in repulsing an invader. 

One Friday night the expected signal was given, and the men lost no time is assembling at the Parade Ground, which was then on North terrace, where the Art Gallery and Museum now are. 

To summon the volunteers three guns and two rockets were fired, and one of the latter nearly caused serious injury. It was fired in a south-westerly direction, and the stick from it landed on the roof of Mr. M. Cohen's tobacconist shop in King William street. Had it gone a few yards farther it might have struck some of the crowd passing up and down the street. As it was it gave Mr. Cohen, who was standing in front of his shop, quite a fright. 

Very soon after 9 p.m. hundreds of people — onlookers and volunteers— had assembled at the Parade Ground, and, according to a contemporary, the inclination of some spectators "to poke fun and jeer gave way to a feeling of genuine admiration, and the patriotic fellows were heartily cheered." 

The police were the first on the scene, followed by the mounted rifles. Thirty two huntsmen responded to the call to act as mounted orderlies. The military band played the leading infantry companies out of the Parade Ground to meet the 'enemy,' consisting of several companies of troops who had been stationed at Glenelg in readiness for the call to arms. 

It was quickly realised how difficult a task it would be to stop the 'invaders,' but a company was sent down each railway line and another along the road towards Glenelg. The presence of "chatting joking people" made it impossible for the Adelaide troops to progress without being heard, and the march did not even end in smoke. 

The artillery was subjected to much criticism for its delay in getting on the move, as it took them an hour and a half to harness the teams, get the guns and ammunition waggons ready, and pull out. News was eventually received that a small body of cavalry had intercepted the enemy somewhere south-west of Adelaide. With that the march back to the city began. The discipline maintained by the 400 to 500 volunteers during the march was, as a contemporary affirms, 'not bad.' 

The parade at Port Adelaide at the same time was more eventful. At 1 o'clock on the Friday morning the town hall bell was run, and volunteers turned out in force to meet the 'invaders.' It was a false alarm, however, and after half an hour's excitement in the streets everyone returned to bed. 

The same evening, however, simultaneously with the call to arms in Adelaide, another summons was sounded by the town hall bell, and a gun at Fort Largs, or as it was then known, Largs Fort. The two forts in the district, Fort Largs and Fort Glanville, offered more scope for military operations than was available to the Adelaide volunteers, and full advantage was taken of the opportunity. 

Following the parade and the report that a Russian cruiser, General Admiral, had been sighted off Cape Howe, there was considerable activity in forming volunteer companies, and the efforts of Captain D. F. Nelson at Port Adelaide had an amusing sequel. He was given command of a newly formed volunteer company, and had marched his men to a vacant allotment near the gasworks for drill. 

After about an hour and a half seven or eight members of the original Port Adelaide company, under Captain Mason, approached them, and from a range of 30 yards fired blank cartridges into their ranks. Not satisfied with that, they marched on them, still firing their cartridges, the burning wads from which scorched the faces of some members of Captain Nelson's company rather severely. 

Captain Mason requested his colleague to give the password, and when he was told that none had been decided upon he demanded Captain Nelson's sword. It was given him, but he gave it back. Mason ordered Captain Nelson's company to march with his, but the men refused to do so. Thereupon Mason and his men retired to the drill hall at Tier's Hotel. 

When one of the men accidentally discharged his rifle, the explosion of a blank cartridge caused the barmaid to faint with fright. Two policemen, who were quickly on the scene, were eventually persuaded that the firing had been accidental. Lieutenant-Colonel Lovely, who investigated the whole matter, said that Mason's action was a 'senseless and foolish joke,' but in recognition of his 'long service and zeal,' he was allowed to retain his position in the forces on making an apology to Nelson and the men concerned. — C.V.H.

Mystery Solved After Many Months

Some time ago an Aborigine was found dead near the Alligator River, Northern Territory, with a heavy iron wood spear through his heart. No trace of his assailant could be found, and there were no tracks other than the deceased's and some unshod horse's tracks, supposed to be those of a loose horse making for water in the river. 

Opinion was expressed that the fatal spear was thrown by an Aborigine who wore moccasins, thus making his tracks invisible even to a native tracker. A moccasin made by the blacks consists of human hair in which is interwoven the fine feathers of an emu. It fits tightly round the foot, with a soft springy sole about five inches wide, which leaves no track at all except on a dusty road, which of course the wearer would avoid. A moccasin will not break small sticks or dislodge stones, and presses with such springy lightness that blades of grass bent down soon rise again, leaving nothing for even an expert tracker to follow. 

And now, after many months, comes the solution of the mystery. A white man was riding a horse along, a bush track leading to the river. His horse was walking at a slow pace, and he was in the act of lighting his pipe. He was an excellent bushman, and knew that part of the country well. He had never been attacked by natives, and never at any time feared attack, although he never went anywhere without a six-chambered Colt in his hip pocket — an old-fashioned, large-bored weapon which would, if required, bring down a bullock. While the horse sauntered along slowly an aborigine suddenly sprang out from behind a small bushy tree. He wore nothing but a very scanty loincloth and carried a heavy iron wood spear, notched and barbed in the fashion usually adopted by natives in that district. 

'You gibbit pipe, tobaccer, matches,' he said, brandishing, his ugly poison-pointed spear within a yard of the white man's chest. Successful Australians have always been noted for their initiative, and the outback pioneer, whose food supplies and often his life depend largely on his wits, has reasoning or thinking powers which work with lightning speed in an emergency. 

The Aborigine, on the other hand, is cunning, but a slow thinker. The white man reined in his horse, and, touching his pipe with his hand, said, 'This one no good, too old. I give you new one.' Reaching his hand behind him, apparently to get a new pipe, he drew his Colt and shot the native through the heart. Then he dismounted, picked up the spear, and pushed it into the gaping wound. Careful to leave no tracks, he remounted and rode away. To have, done otherwise — to have reported the matter to the police— might have resulted in heavy expense and loss of time his attending court proceedings hundreds of miles away in Darwin, and possibly in defending a criminal charge in the Supreme Court. — J.A.P.

School At 4 A.M.

In a country school a few miles north of Wirrabara, about 48 years ago, a record for early attendance at a State school was made, I wonder if it has ever been beaten. Of a family of school-going children, Doug was one of the younger ones. Often he was slow in getting ready for school, thereby making the others late. 

With the idea of hurrying him up a little, his elder brother, Jim, said to him one night. 'I'll race you to school tomorrow morning, Doug.' 

'No, you won't,' said the younger brother. 

Next morning a little before daylight Doug awoke. He quickly and quietly dressed— even to the blacking of his boots, without waking anyone, and with his bag of books over his shoulder started for school. By this time it was daylight. About half-way to school he met his school chum, Arthur, bringing in the cows. What a time the two boys had! Could anything give a boy greater pleasure than unexpectedly to meet his chum? Of course they breakfasted at Arthur's home, and played together till school time. 

A few weeks later Jim again told his brother that he would race him to school next day, and once again the challenge was accepted. Doug woke early next morning, and, although it was not yet daylight, he dressed himself and slipped out without waking his brothers. 

He was a little disappointed at not meeting his chum bringing in the cows again, but eventually he reached the school. The school building faced east, with a room at the west end where the teacher slept. The tank was also at the west end of the building. The boy sat for a while on the school doorstep, and then, feeling thirsty, walked past the teacher's window to the tank for a drink. He also passed the teacher's room again on his way back. 

He little thought that he had scared the teacher, who thought that burglars were trying to break into the school. Sitting on the step waiting for the day to dawn, the lad probably dozed, for he thought he saw a reptile different to any he had yet seen. Thinking that it would need a man to kill it, he knocked on the teacher's bedroom door. The latter, now sure that burglars were about, disguised his voice and said, as if talking to someone, 'Get the gun ready, Pat,' and then sternly demanded to know who was there. 

The boy, now completely scared, could only answer, 'Me.' 'Who's me?' that stern voice demanded, and again came the reply, 'Me.' 

Slowly the door opened. At first the teacher could not see anyone, for the frightened boy had backed up against the wall. What a relief it must have been to the teacher to find not burglars, but a little boy, even though it was 4 a.m. After much questioning the teacher made a bed on the floor for the lad, where he slept till 7 a.m. Then the teacher, taking the boy with him, went to Arthur's home (where he boarded) for taking the boy with him, went to breakfast, and the chums once again were able to have a good play before school time. — 'Rising Sun,' Naidia.