7 March 1935

STRANGE ENDING TO KANGAROO HUNT 

New Chum Shows Country Lads A Few Points Of The Game

Although it Is many years since I took part in one, the thought of a kangaroo hunt even now sends a thrill through me. 

I think that all out-back men will agree with me when I say that there is no finer sport in the world—given a well-trained horse, an active kangaroo, and a stretch of country that is not too thickly timbered or riddled with wombat or rabbit warrens. 

What can surpass the exhilaration of the swift gallop, reins bearing, but not too heavily, as one holds his horse together, all one's senses alert as he watches for pitfalls and endeavors to approach near enough to his flying quarry to deliver a knock out blow with a stock whip handle or a swinging stirrup iron hastily pulled from the saddle? 

How unforgettable is the peculiar musky smell which reaches one's nostrils as he closes on the rapidly tiring quarry. Truly it is a sport for kings. 

Well do I remember one famous chase we had after a kangaroo when I was a lad of 19 on Pimbeena station. There were three of us involved in it —Frank Jackson, the son of the owner of the station, his cousin Aubrey, who had just come up from the city to recuperate after a severe operation, and myself. Both the other lads were a year my senior. 

On the morning in question Frank and I had to muster some fresh horses from the Nullatulda paddock, and as Aubrey was very anxious to come along with us we allowed him to do so. He was a very indifferent horseman, so we gave him a very quiet old chestnut named Sailor. 

It was a beautiful morning when we set out, and as we ambled over the miles towards Nullatulda the city lad kept the ball rolling with jokes and songs— he had a very fine tenor voice— and we soon, arrived at the paddock, where we found the horses not far from the dam and yards which had been constructed there. 

Frank and I caught fresh horses there, but we kept Aubrey on old Sailor, since we could depend upon the old chestnut to behave himself in most circumstances. Having mounted our fresh horses, we went for a look round, and on riding through a patch of stunted mulga we came to a cleared area about two hundred acres in extent, and there, not far from us, were feeding an 'old man' kangaroo and three does.

 'After them!' yelled Frank, and, shortening our reins, we galloped after the 'old man,' which hopped away at right angles to the does. 'Stay where you are!' I called to Aubrey as I dug in my heels, deeming it safer for him to assume the role of spectator. 

The next moment, however, I heard a thunder of hoofs behind me, and then in a flash old Sailor went past, stretched out like a race-horse, with Aubrey sitting back trying to pull him up. When we first sighted the kangaroo Aubrey was quite content to obey orders and watch the fun; but Sailor had been there before many times, and was not going to be left behind. So he just joined in regard less of the wishes of his rider. 

Try as I might, I could not catch the chestnut, so had to be content to course along behind and watch how the new chum fared. Sailor galloped up to the 'old man' and kept alongside him, waiting for his rider to administer the knockout blow; but Aubrey was too busy holding on to think about any thing else. 

By this time Frank had ranged along beside me, and I could see by his face that something was wrong. 'We'll have to stop him soon,' he cried. 'We must be near that old division fence and the wire is still in it. You try and get close enough for a smack to finish things, or else some thing is going to happen. My colt is nearly blown.' 

We were now in scattered timber again, and, although Sailor knocked the kangaroo down on two occasions, I had to watch my track, and missed several wild blows at it. Suddenly Frank roared, 'Look out! Let him go! The fence!' I dragged on my reins just as the 'old man' hit the fence and rolled over in a cloud of dust and dry under-growth. At the same moment Sailor surged past. 

'We've got him!' yelled Aubrey, who, by this time, was experiencing the thrill of the chase. He had not seen the fence, however, and apparently thought that I had managed at last to get to close quarters. The chestnut saw the fence just in time, slid on his four feet, and turned sharply to the right. This was too much for the equestrian ability of his rider, who was shot out of the saddle. He landed over the fence right on top of the kangaroo, which had been frantically trying to extricate its legs from the tangle of loose fencing wire. 

'Grab him, Aubrey!' cried Frank, and Aubrey, grabbing blindly with both lands, managed to get a firm grip on the kangaroo's tail. As he hung on like grim death, the kangaroo was ours, and the hunt successfully ended. 

The other day, while on a visit to the city, I happened to meet Aubrey, now a successful business man, and we spent a very cheerful time talking about his thrilling holiday in the bush. For the best part of the afternoon he tried his utmost to convince me that he had really meant to catch the kangaroo in the way he had done, as he had had no gun to shoot it with. I could not agree with him, however, holding that the honors of the chase really belonged to Sailor.— 'Murra-minga.'

For His Money 

An old-stockman who had put £5 on a horse at an outback meeting had his suspicions as to whether the animal would be allowed to run true. Therefore, just before the race started, he approached the horse and cut both the reins almost through, leaving just enough leather to guide the horse with. Turning to the jockey, he said, 'There now, you give that horse his head. If you try to hold him in, you'll fall and break your blanky neck!' The horse won easily. — 'RAT-BAG.'

An Outback Wedding 

People living in the vicinity of the Centennial Hotel, Broken Hill, were one morning in the early days galavanized into activity by the ringing of bullock bells, laughter, and the loud cracking of a stockwhip. It turned out to be an outback couple who had just been married. 

A pair of huge camels were hitched tandem style to an old buggy, which had evidently seen better days. The leading beast had probably a dozen or more bullock bells attached to different parts of its gear. The one between the shafts also had a number of them fastened about it, together with sprigs of mulga, bullock-bush, and other native plants. 

The driver (and bridegroom), a huge sunburnt son of the plains, wore a hat which was so large that it made his big, round, happy face look like that of a schoolboy. He had no coat and the sleeves of his blue and white striped shirt was rolled up almost to his shoulders, displaying a pair of muscular copper colored arms. 

On the head of the leading camel was a bough of bullock-bush, and the manner in which that bridegroom handled his 30 odd feet of lash was an education, for he flicked off a piece of that bush from where he sat at will. 

Beside him sat his bride— a glorious specimen of a real Australian bush girl. Almost stiff with laughter, her round, chubby face was encompassed by a large leghorn hat, tied to her chin by a circle of blue ribbon. A red and white spotted dress completed her wedding trousseau. 

On the back seat a jackeroo grinned as he pointed out the wonders of the Silver City to a couple of full-blooded aboriginal boys. The strange cavalcade tore along Blende street to Kaolin street, and from there into Argent street. 

Straight down the centre of the street they went with bells clanging, whip cracking, and their merry laughter pealing out. By the time they reached the hotel again the streets were crowded, in spite of the comparatively early hour. 

The wedding breakfast was served in the big kitchen of the hotel. There were no invitations and no gilt-edged, gaily tagged cards, and the cook plainly and simply asked if you would have steak, chops, or sausages. 

One merely had to "shake" (anyone was welcome at the breakfast while it lasted), and it was intensely amusing to watch those who did "shake." Some had tears in their eyes, while others were trying to straighten out their compressed fingers on the table— realistic and convincing souvenirs of the "shakes" from that burly bridegroom.