13 February 1936

HALF CASTE TRAPPER'S REMARKABLE LUCK 

Could Always Obtain Dog Scalps When Other Men Failed

Wild dogs had been troubling Sam Marten's sheep for some time, and the station hands were having a strenuous time setting traps and laying baits, but all their efforts proved unsuccessful, and not a single dog was brought to account. The skinning of dead sheep began to get monotonous, and the best conditioned were generally the ones attacked. In addition, this was one of the best years for wool, and the loss amounted to a fair figure. 

The usual scalp fee was not attractive enough to bring experienced doggers into Warrapilna because of the scarcity of dogs in normal seasons. Sam Marten tried his hardest to get a trapper down from Mungatana way but failed. Two or three scalps were not worth the trouble of shifting camp, especially into a district where sheep and feed were plentiful. The dogs would not bother to sniff at baits, and traps were not of much use with water everywhere. 

His neighbor, Stevens, was losing sheep, too, so a two-day round-up was decided on. Dogs can be run down on horseback, and they generally hide near their hunting grounds during the day time, often close to water. Most of the men were not enthusiastic about the round-up with all the hard work of shearing approaching, but Sam and Stevens promised them a ten-gallon keg of beer, for every dog run down and destroyed. Beer is appreciated much more in the outback than in the settled parts, so we decided to go dog hunting. 

Nine of us from Warrapilna and seven from Stevens's Acres, all on fresh horses, and having a good supply of sheep and cattle dogs, made up the hunt. We left Marten's homestead at sunrise, determined to run over every inch of Warrapilna that day. We spread out into three groups with cattle dogs between us, and cantered around the paddocks for hours. The noise we made reminded me of the sideshows at a country carnival, and no wild dog could have remained hidden in the face of such commotion. 

By noon, we were rather tired, and our horses had lost their freshness, but we all assembled at a waterhole to scour the hills in the afternoon. The hunt during the remainder of the day was rather tiresome and uninteresting. It was hot, and we were tired of yelling, but the bosses set us a good example, and we searched literally every inch of the hills without result. 

By evening we were dead tired, and glad to turn in, but Sam was up early next morning to scour the paddocks for signs of any fresh killings during the night. He was with us soon after breakfast, and smiling. 'The beggars must be on Stevens's joint,' he said. 'Come on. Let's get going.' 

We rode over to the Acres after breakfast and joined Stevens's men, to scour the paddocks and rough country. Both bosses were confident that the day's hunt would be successful, but in spite of the most careful searching not a single wild dog was hunted up, and a very tired and disappointed group of men returned to their respective homes to grouse and discuss other ways and means of bringing the dogs to account. 

Ultimately both bosses decided to offer a reward of two pounds for every dog caught or poisoned on their properties. The local natives and trappers from further outback were told of the reward and conditions, but only one solitary trapper bothered to try his luck. 

In less than a week one of our boundary riders, Bill Casey, found the first dead dog at a waterhole; but Sam gave the trapper credit for the kill, much to Casey's annoyance. This trapper was a fine, strong half-caste known as Willie Watts, who lived from the returns of dog scalps, and he camped in the hills on his own after the fashion of all trappers. 

We got quite a shock when one day, about a week after Casey had found the first dog, Watts came into Warrapilna with four more and claimed his reward; on the strength of which he went away to have a celebration. 

For over a fortnight everything was calm and peaceful on our run, and then gradually a few more killings began to occur. This time it was Stevens's sheep that suffered, and he promptly got on the track of Watts to inform him of the fact, whereupon the half caste again commenced to lay baits. As a result three more dogs were brought in poisoned, and Watts found himself richer by six pounds. 

For seven dogs to be destroyed on the runs and without any apparent difficulty either, was too much for most of us to believe, when an extensive hunt had failed to locate a single dog. The bosses, however, were content to pay up as long as dogs were being destroyed, and we were given orders to watch out for further killings.

Watts went west for his usual celebration accompanied by our boundary rider, Casey, whose leave was due to an argument over the finding of the first dead dog which ended with Casey receiving a month's notice. 

As we expected, all went well for a few weeks, but then again a few sheep were torn to pieces every night; generally on the back sections which bordered on desert and gibber country. 

Both Sam and Stevens were in a rage over it. The shearing was almost at hand. All the men were hard at work, and it seemed that the only way out of it was to again give Willie Watts two pounds per head to rid the run of dogs. 

There was no need to search for the half-caste on this occasion, because he turned up at the Acres to get the job of dog poisoning again. We expected results, quite naturally, but how on earth he succeeded in getting the dogs when we could not even find a track, tricked us. 

Several days after he again set to work Watts appeared at Warrapilna with a pair of dead dogs. Sam Marten cursed the carcases and paid over the money. Watts looked pleased and said, 'There's more about yet. I'll get 'em.' 

Watts was wrong. He never got them. Casey did, and there was considerable surprise on the station when the former boundary rider came back to Warrapilna on a tired horse with four dead wild dogs hanging from the saddle and half a dozen young pups besides. 

Sam Marten nearly collapsed at the sight. He gave a sickly grin and said, 'Well, I daresay I'll have to be fair and pay you for them, Bill, seeing that you're not on wages any more.' Casey kept silent and grinned at the rest of us gathered round. 

'Where did you get them from?' the boss asked, indicating the dogs hanging from the saddle. 'Same place as Willie Watts got his from,' replied Casey, 'only I was a bit late and had to take the lot so that he didn't get the wind of me. They cost me ten bob a piece and the pups were five bob.' 

'Hey, what!' gasped the bewildered Sam who was beginning to see through masters. 'Tell me about it, Bill.' 'If I do, will you give me my job back, and pay for the dogs?' 

'That's all right,' said Sam, 'you're on at your own terms. Only I want the full strength of it.' Casey then told us all he had discovered. 

It happened that Bill and Watts were drinking together, and Casey gradually got the facts by careful questioning, and used them to his own advantage. Watts was badly broke at the time the dogs commenced raiding our flocks and took on the job of bringing them to account, but the only killer he poisoned was the one Casey had dis covered at the waterhole. The others he bought from wild blacks outback, who reared them for the sake of the scalps, and brought them into Watts's camp when ordered. 

Then it dawned on Watts that he would do well if he could earn a few more pounds in a simple manner. With a few mad cattle dogs that he picked up he got to work on our flocks, and gave us the impression that wild dogs were at work again. 

Sam Martin almost had a fit when he realised how he had been cheated. He vowed vengeance on the unscrupulous Watts, and ordered several of us to saddle up and search for the miscreant, who we were certain was camped in the back hills. 

Our luck was out. The bird had flown. No doubt the wild blacks had somehow passed the news on to him that Casey had bought the remaining dogs in their possession. Warrapilna and the Acres flocks were never again troubled after that, and Casey got his job back, plus a bonus.— 'EsnaL.' 

Yes, We Have Some Bananas! 

While staying in Adelaide for the Christmas holidays, a family consisting of grandfather, mother, father and two boys had an amusing experience. One morning they set out separately for the city, arranging to return to the boarding house at which they were staying for lunch. The mother spent the morning looking round the shops, and on her way back noticed some very nice bananas on a stall at the— to her— remarkably low price of 20 for one shilling. Knowing the family's fondness for this particular fruit, she purchased a shilling's worth. 

Soon after she got back to the boarding house her husband arrived, also carrying bananas— he, too, had seen them and bought a shilling's worth. They were discussing the necessity of using the 40 as soon as possible when grandfather arrived, and proudly displayed his bargain for the morning —'Twenty bananas for a bob!' The two boys returning soon after wards, each carrying a large paper bag containing bananas, wondered why they were greeted with hilarious laughter.— M.E.M. 

Where The Shell Grit Went 

A farmer was taking home a bag of fine shellgrit for his fowls — the district in which he lived being very deficient in anything containing lime — when it fell from the waggon and split open. 

As he had no other bags with him in which to collect the grit, he decided to leave it there and to come back later and pick it up. 

But when he returned that evening hardly any of the grit was left, having been eaten by the many wild birds in the scrub. 

The same man found that sparrows and starlings scratched and pecked at the lime mortar in the brick points of his chimneys, doing so much damage that he was forced to cement the joints. 

The birds were in search of lime, which is essential to their bone and feather requirements. When farmers in that district lime their paddocks, birds flock on to the fields from miles round.— J.R.