4 April 1935

POLICE METHODS IN THE EARLY DAYS 

Rounding Up Natives On The Coorong

In August, 1844, a posse of police left Adelaide to arrest two natives be longing to the Milmenoora tribe on the Coorong. This was the tribe that massacred the crew and passengers of the brig Maria in 1839, and its members were generally regarded as about the most treacherous of the South Australian Aborigines.

As they were frequently in trouble with the police a regular technique had been developed for running them down. This required in addition to a party on the landward side a boat party on the Coorong itself, because the natives were so quick in detecting the approach of the police that they always had time to escape into the water. 

On this occasion, as usual, the party was proceeding in two groups. The land party, being mounted, had out-stripped those in the boat, when some natives were seen fishing some distance ahead. Although the horsemen made a cautious approach they were seen, and the natives at once took to the water and waded far out into the lake. 

The police waited on the land and through an interpreter made the blacks understand what was wanted of them, but they refused to move, and there was nothing for it but to await the arrival of the boat. Orders, however, had been misunderstood and the boat did not appear. 

Meanwhile the unfortunate natives were standing submerged to their necks in the chilly August waters. As the boat did not appear, two of the police party were left to cut the natives off from the shore while the rest proceeded on their way. 

A little further on exactly the same thing happened. A group of Aborigines was seen at a distance on the edge of the water. They stampeded into the lake before the police could get close enough to make a capture, and refused to come out again when called upon to do so. There was nothing for it but to leave another detachment to cut them off from the shore and push on with a very much depleted force. 

At length the little band arrived opposite an island on which was assembled a considerable number of natives. On being called upon to come over to the land, one sturdy fellow shouted in defiance and drove his spear into the ground. 

Meanwhile the two groups of natives who had taken refuge in the lake, had made their way, numb and miserable, through the water towards the Island, their police guards keeping pace with them along the shore. 

Thus both parties rejoined their forces, but not without a little rescue work on the part of the more stalwart of those on the island, who had to wade into the water and carry their almost frozen companions part of the way to the island on their backs. 

It appears that Inspector Tolmer, who was in charge of the police, had arranged to meet Sergeant-Major Alford with six men at an appointed place on the lake, but, having reached the spot and waited for some time, as Alford did not put in an appearance, he went in search of him. 

At length he found Alford further inland, injured. In attempting to arrest a native whom he suspected of being one of the wanted men, he had been set upon by his quarry, who tried to waddy him. Alford drew his sword, but, in stepping back to avoid the blow, ran it into his heel. 

One of his men, seeing his danger, discharged a pistol at his assailant's breast, but, to the astonishment of all, the fellow ran off. It was later found that the ball in the pistol had been too small for the barrel, and, luckily for the blackfellow, had fallen out. 

Such was the accident which caused a man named Williams to volunteer to take Alford's place, a request which Tolmer granted. Williams, who had previously suffered some loss from the depredations of the natives, showed the strongest inclination to fire on those on the island, on the plea that the wanted men were among them, Tolmer, of course, would not hear of it, and told him that if he fired without being ordered to do so he would find himself under arrest. At this/ he went off sulking. 

Shortly afterwards, the natives thought better of it, and waded ashore with their hands behinds their backs; as a token of submission. They were lined up, but on examination it was found that the two culprits, who were quite well known, were not among them. They, however, volunteered the information as to where the wanted men could be found, and Tolmer, taking them at their word, dispatched a number of his men, who subsequently effected their capture. 

The next morning the boat arrived with the wanted men. Not long afterwards, Alford arrived and informed his chief that Williams was spreading a story that several large bodies of natives had been encountered, but that no capture had been effected, because Tolmer was afraid of them. 

This greatly incensed the inspector, particularly as Governor Grey was in the neighborhood, and Duncan McFarlane, whose property the natives had stolen, was said to have left for Adelaide to lay a complaint regarding the matter. 

Tolmer immediately set out for Adelaide, covering a distance of 120 miles that day. Now, between Crafers and Fordham's Hotels the regular route was a dry track, but there was also a bridle path, which later became the line of the main road. Tolmer took the bridle path. 

Some distance further on a tree had fallen across the track, leaving room for only one person to pass. As Tolmer arrived at the one side, Duncan Mc Farlane reined up at the other on his way back from town. Tolmer drew aside to let the other pass, but demanded an explanation of the rumor he had heard. McFarlane denied absolutely that he had been to Adelaide to lay a complaint, or that he was in any way dissatisfied by the inspector's conduct, so the two men shook hands, and Tolmer galloped on. 

On arriving at Adelaide, he went to the office of Major Finnis and reported the reason for his hasty return. Finnis took him to Government House to make a full explanation, and the libel went no further. It is an interesting reflection on the conduct of Williams and the correctness of Tolmer's action, that some days later, in the police order book, appeared a notice that, if Tolmer had permitted Williams to fire, he would have been put on trial for his life.— 'Kestrel.'

Trapped Under A Bullock Wagon 

About ten years ago I met an old bullock driver, who, in the course of a yarn about old times, told me the two following tales of narrow escapes. One was bad enough, but the other was an escape from a really horrible death. I have set them down in the old battler's own words, as well as memory serves. 

"Close shaves? Well, yes, I have had a few in my time. Most teamsters had, for carting was no job for weaklings in those days of unmade roads. The first one happened when I was carting some long poles for the poppet head of the old Lady Alice gold mine at Barossa. The track to the mine was a very rough one, with some sharp pinches here and there. Before each of the sharp rises I would give the team a breathing spell, then lay into them with the whip to make them keep the heavy load moving until they had hauled it over the rise. 

"We came to one particularly nasty pinch, and the jinker was half-way up it, when one of the bullocks, old Leopard, began to sulk and hang back. I ran forward to whip him up to doing his share, tripped over a root, fell flat, and was in the act of rising, when one of the polers knocked me down again. 

"I looked up, to see one of the big jinker wheels within a few inches of my chest. There was no time to get up; I could only roll over and over in front of it, with no breath to spare to shout to the team. Every time I rolled over I thought, 'If that wheel pins my shirt, I'm done,' The high bank on the side of the track prevented me from, rolling out sideways. 

"I must have turned over a dozen times, then what I had been dreading happened—the wheel caught my shirt. 'I owed my life to that sulky old brute of a Leopard. At that moment he hung back again, his mate followed suit, and the team pulled up. For a second the wheel pressed so hard on my chest that I thought my ribs would break, then the jinker rolled back and I was able to scramble to my feet. I was pretty scared at the time, but soon almost forgot the matter. 

"My second experience, though, was one I've never been able to forget— for years it would make me wake up in a cold sweat at night. I was carting a load of wool in the Wimmera, just over the border from this State. Those Western Victorian blacksoil tracks were horribly soft in wet weather—rain would make them sticky as birdlime and as soft as putty. It came on to rain one night, and I pulled the waggon on to a bit of a rise, turned the team loose, had my tea, and then rolled up in my blankets. To get away from the drizzling rain I lay down under the bjg waggon, never dreaming of the terrible risk I was taking. 

"I had a horrible nightmare—I dreamed that the waggon had sunk down and was crushing the life out of me. I tried my utmost to awaken, as one does in a nightmare, and finally did wake up, to find that it was not a dream. The wheels of the waggon had sunk into the soft soil and the body had come down on my chest. How long I struggled to get free I do not know. It seemed that I lay there for hours, the life being slowly squeezed out of me. I caught at the brake rods and pulled until my muscles seemed to crack, but I could not move. 

"Only one thing did save me— the fact that I had been lying on a little rise in the ground, in order to keep as dry as possible. Just when I was beginning to despair I felt myself move a little, I took a fresh grip of the rods, made another mighty effort, and moved another half inch. Then I found that I could get my feet against one of the waggon bearers, and this enabled me to press with my feet, as well as pull with my arms. 

"Within another minute I was free, and was standing out in the rain, wet with sweat and shaking like a leaf. Within another hour I found that the waggon body was hard down on the ground. For years after that I could not sleep in a room or any confined space, on account of the nightmares it would cause, and even today I often dream that I am being crushed under that waggon again."

It does not need much imagination to be able to visualise the horrible mental torture which that man went through before he managed to escape from under that laden waggon.— H.A.L.

Early History Of Kangaroo Island 

It is impossible to say definitely when the first white man settled on Kangaroo Island. As far as can be ascertained, a man named Waller landed there about 1820, and was for a number of years in undisputed possession of the island. After a few years other men settled there also. They were principally sailors who had tired of life on vessels engaged in whaling and sealing round the island. 

By 1835 there were about eight or nine white men on the island. Several of them had native women, brought either from Tasmania or the mainland, living with them. The men were chiefly engaged in sealing and catching wallabies. At intervals, Captain Hart, of Launceston, used to visit the island to trade with the settlers. In exchange for their seal and wallaby skins he supplied them with such goods as they could not produce. 

Contrary to what might be expected, the settlers lived remarkably well. Quite apart from the goods obtained from Captain Hart and various whaling vessels, they were well supplied with food. They cleared small patches of land on which they grew vegetables and wheat. By grinding the wheat between stones they produced coarse meal. From this they made a heavy but nutritious bread. They kept fowls, and pigs, and besides this had the wallabies, fish, and wild fowl, which were so easily obtained. 

One of the early settlers was a young man named Meredith, He had been engaged in sealing, but had been wrecked on Howe's island. Accompanied by a Dutchman known as Jacob Seaman, and a Tasmanian black woman called Sal, he escaped by boat to Kangaroo Island. He settled at Western River, and went in for sealing. He secured two blackboys from the mainland and trained them to assist him in his work. 

One day he landed on the mainland at a spot near where Yankalilla is now. Whilst he was sitting near his campfire partaking of a meal, the two black boys stole up behind him and split his head open with a hatchet. It is believed that they were instigated to commit this treacherous act by a party of Encounter Bay natives, who immediately took possession of the boat and its contents, and also of the black woman, Sal.  [The Encounter Bay natives were unhappy about the white men stealing their women? - Ed.]

For a time the natives used the boat for fishing, but eventually it got adrift and was broken up. Sal again escaped to Kangaroo Island, where she joined a settler named George Brown, an American black, who had been a headsman in one of the whaling vessels. When the first colonists arrived, Brown left the island and was employed at Holdfast Bay, where he married a white emigrant girl. 

On July 27, 1836, the first shipload of colonists arrived at Nepean Bay in the Duke of York, under command of Captain Morgan. The vessel arrived at noon. By 2 o'clock the whole of the excited passengers had set foot ashore. During the landing a magnificent rainbow appeared in the sky. This was looked upon as a good omen. On reaching land, a prayer of thanks giving for the prosperous voyage was offered up: After the voyage, which had taken one hundred days, the colonists were overjoyed to set foot on land, and it was late before they returned to the vessel. 

Shortly after midnight the vessel suddenly heeled over so that the decks sloped at an alarming angle. The frightened passengers immediately rushed to the boats. However, the captain allayed the alarm by explaining that he had anchored in too shallow water. The vessel had swung round and grounded because of the ebb of the tide. 

The following day a camp was made and the passengers spent the night ashore. Shortly before daybreak they were astonished and not a little alarmed by a terrific uproar close at hand. At first some of them believed that natives were about to attack them, but it was soon found that the disturbance was caused by nothing more fear-some than a number of kookaburras, who were chuckling their glee at the break of day. 

The sealers living on the island soon learned of the colonists' arrival. Several of them paid a visit to the camp and presented the new settlers with a good supply of island-grown vegetables. This acted as a stimulus to the enthusiasm of the newcomers. Within a few days they had cleared the scrub from small areas, and had planted vegetable seeds and grain. The first selections of land were made, and several of the colonists started to build houses. 

On August 18, the Surveyor-General (Colonel Light) arrived in the brig Rapid. Unfortunately for the colonists, who had already started work on the island, Colonel Light pronounced it to be unsuitable for the South Australian capital, although he considered Nepean Bay a very fine harbor. After further examination of the coast of the mainland, the settlers moved to Holdfast Bay. Their gardens and partially built houses were left to be occupied by the original islanders.— 'Memo.'