8 November 1934

UNKNOWN VICTIM OF TRAIN TRAGEDY 

'Father,' Buried By Sons, Returns to Life

All the ingredients of a first-class mystery novel were provided at Port Pirie a few years ago when two brothers, being almost convinced that the body was that of their father, paid for the funeral of an unknown man, and later discovered that he had been a complete stranger. 

Shockingly mutilated, the body of a middle-aged man was found on the railway line about two miles from Port Pirie early one morning. It was later established that the man had been run over by a goods train later on the previous night. 

Owing to the terrible injuries received, the police realised from the outset that they would have great difficulty in having the body identified. The clothing of the dead man had been torn to shreds, and there were no personal articles which might have assisted the police in their enquiries. 

For three days complete mystery surrounded the man's identity. Scores of people viewed the body at the police morgue, but nobody was able to recognise it. 

An inquest was held without any further light being thrown on the mystery, but just prior to the burial, which had been arranged for by the State, two brothers, who lived near Port Pirie, reported that their father had left home unexpectedly about six months before, and they expressed a desire to see the body. 

Although the two men were unable to say definitely that the dead man was their father, they decided to give him a private funeral at their own expense. Being almost certain that the body was that of their missing father, the two sons felt that it was their duty to meet all the expenses attached to the burial. So the funeral, conducted privately, was attended by the two men, who paid their last respects to their dead 'parent' with all due reverence. 

It was believed that the mystery had been cleared up, and most people in the district had almost forgotten it, when one day almost two months later, a man appeared in the doorway of the home of the two brothers and gave them a cheery greeting. Wide-eyed, they stared at him. But there was no doubt about this man. He was their father— and very much alive! 

The identity of the dead man has never been discovered, but the two brothers who paid for his funeral and attended it have no regrets.—"F.R.D."

Two Old Time Elections.

The peaceful serenity of Robe has been often disturbed by untoward happenings, but not more so than on the occasions of two elections in the early sixties. 

The first was when the late G. C Hawker was contesting the local seat about 1862. He had been a large land holder in the locality, having held leases which extended out in the direction of Lake St. Clair on the one side of what is now the Beachport road, and up to Lowrie's Hill on the other. 

He was very popular at the old seaside town. On one of his visits to the place a trap accident near the turnoff to the Felmongery gave it the name of 'Hawker's Breakdown,' which it retains to this day. On this election tour a number of his party met him at this spot, released the horses from the vehicle and pulled it by manpower into the town, a distance of about a mile and a half. 

When the day of the election arrived the differences between the two factions were intense, and the fixture happening coincidental with one of the early visits of the steamer Penola, her genial young captain lent his energy and interests to the Hawker party. 

At this time a couple of ship's cannon from one of the early shipwrecks were located at the Robe Hotel flagstaff. One of these was secured by the Hawker party, and, led by Captain Snewin, was taken to the front of Alexander Campbell's store, he being on the opposition side. It was well and truly loaded, and just as Snewin was about to apply the fuse one of his party remarked that the cannon, being pointed at the building would, when fired, do considerable damage. Its muzzle was then pointed in the other direction, and the fuse applied. A resounding report followed and the windows of the shop collapsed. An account for £10 for damages and repairs was rendered to Mr. Hawker which, having been the successful candidate, he cheerfully paid. 

The other election took place on March 16, 1865. The electors were divided. Stow, John Riddoch, and Adam Lindsay Gordon were the candidates. Some of the electors favored Stow and Riddoch, and the others Riddoch and Gordon. Much bitterness was shown by both factions, the feeling, however, being only between the supporters of Gordon and Stow, for both parties were for Riddoch. 

The Gordon faction had prepared an effigy of Mr. Stow, and having dug a grave on the foreshore, was prepared to burn and inter the representation of Stow in it. Men and women joined in the proceedings in a lively manner, the former freely using their fists, and the women scratching one another's faces and tearing their hair. The Stow party, led by the late D. S. Lannam, fought the others with such energy that they were utterly discomfitted, and retired from the fray, leaving the effigy of Stow in the possession of his supporters, with which they, led by an Irish piper, paraded the town singing 'Stow's Come Home Again.' 

But he did not, for he lost by one vote. That happened in this way. Mr. George Ormerod, who was supporting Mr Stow, sent a vehicle to the Stone Hut, 12 miles out, for Mr. Paddon, sen., whom they were certain would vote for Stow. But the driver who was sent was a Gordon partisan, and he purposely got lost and arrived at the booth after the poll was closed. 

A sequel to the election was that the landlord of the Criterion Hotel, who had a large pig pie, interred the carcase in the Stow grave. A few weeks later a violent storm, washed away several yards of the foreshore, and Stow's grave and the pig's carcase were carried into the sea.— 'Tanta Tyga.'

Clare Mystery Solved

The visit of H.R.H. the Duke of Gloucester [1934] recalls a happening during the visit of the Duke of Edinburgh in 1867 that mystified the residents of Clare for many years. Although the Duke was not due to visit the district, the residents decided to stage a demonstration befitting the occasion. 

Accordingly, as the result of a large public meeting, it was decided to light a huge bonfire on the night of the Duke's arrival at Glenelg. Bullock teams were procured, and weeks were spent in hauling logs and timber of all descriptions to the top of Mt. Rufus, near Mintaro— the highest point in the district. A huge pile of wood was soon collected and stacked, splashed here and there with tar and other inflammable substances. 

At last all was ready and a saddled horse was kept waiting at Clare telegraph office, till news of the Duke's arrival should come through. As soon as that was received a man was to gallop with the news to Mintaro and the bonfire was to be lighted immediately. 

But "the best laid scheme of mice and men gang aft agley," for one dark dark night up went the bonfire in full blaze. Immediately the cry arose, "The Duke's arrived," but on telegraphing Adelaide for confirmation, it was discovered that His Royal Highness was still many days out. Naturally, this premature demonstration caused a great stir, and the police were asked to investigate it. Although aided by black trackers, they could find no clue. The most talked of men in the country, the perpetrators of the deed, avoided discovery and for more than 50 years it remained one of the great unsolved mysteries of the district. 

In 1926, however, at the funeral of an old man, after the grave had been filled in, a prominent Jamestown identity said to me, "Now I can tell a secret I've kept for half a century. It was your uncle, whom we've just buried, who lit the famous bonfire on Mt. Rufus. I was only a boy at the time, and we were the only ones who knew of it, but I promised that as long as he lived, I'd never breathe a word about it." Thus after many years was a great mystery solved. — 'Argus,' Spalding.

Nearly A Tragedy

An old hand who had done a fair amount of kangaroo shooting in the South-East told me of the following experience. He said that he was camped with a friend at a place where kangaroos were numerous. 

One night, when there was a good moon, he decided to go out and see whether he could get a shot. Mentioning his intention to his friend, and saying that he would not be away long, he took his gun and set out. His luck, however, appeared to be out. The sky become overcast and although he put up several kangaroos, it was difficult to see them and he did not succeed in getting a shot. After about half an hour he gave it up and started to return. 

When fairly close to the camp he saw a dark object standing in the shade of a tree. The distance was about 40 yards. The night being calm, he did not attempt to get any closer for fear of frightening the 'roo. He cocked his gun and raised it to his shoulder. Even as he did so, the figure moved one leg for ward, and the horrified shooter realised that it was a man at which he was aiming. 

It proved to be his companion, who had also decided to see whether he could get a shot. Had he not moved at the moment he did, he would, in all probability, have been a dead man. Apart altogether from the horror of it, his companion would have found it a difficult matter to establish his innocence and would have been a branded man for life.— A.H.B.

Curried Snake

We were on our way to a contract job on a station up north and had camped for the night. The cook had made a large curry in a camp oven and the evening meal was proceeding merrily, when someone yelled 'snake!' A lucky shot blew its head off and, as it could not be found, we assumed that it had been blown to pieces. 

In the morning, cook warmed up the left-over curry for breakfast. All ate heartily and thoroughly enjoyed their breakfast, until a late riser, having the last of the curry, dipped out the head of a brown snake.— R.R., Eastwood. 

Warned The Inspector

Teachers and inspectors whose duties take them into many of the outback parts of the State often have amusing tales to tell about their work. 

One little boy living in a small seaside town evidently believed in doing the inspector a good turn. He went up to me visitor early one morning and asked confidentially, 'Are you coming to our school today?' On being told 'Yes,' he replied, 'Then you had better clean your boots.' 'Why?' asked the surprised inspector. 'Well, if you don't, teacher will growl at you', was the warning reply. 

It seldom pays to break regulations as one newly appointed teacher discovered early in his career. In order to return home for the Easter vacation he closed his school for half a day without the necessary permission. On boarding the train he sat next to an elderly gentleman, who in course of conversation remarked. 'I know one young lady here who is feeling anxious.' 'Why?' asked the teacher. 'Well,' replied the other, 'I am the school inspector of this district, and to be on this train I know that she must have closed her school without permission.' 

There was a startled gasp from his companion, who spent the remainder of the journey wondering whether, when a few weeks later the same inspector was due to pay his first visit to his school, he would recognise his fellow passenger and demand an explanation. 

The late Director of Education (Mr. McCoy) was well loved by teachers and pupils alike. When he was visiting the Oodnadatta district some years ago one mother rode 60 miles on a camel in order to interview him and gain some hints from him regarding the best methods of teaching her children. But on reaching her destination she was too shy to call on the director who, when he heard of her mission, visited her, examined her children's books, and praised her for her gallant effort.— W.J.H., Wisanger.