30 July 1936

MINING VENTURE THAT WENT ASTRAY

Transport Difficulties Outback

'The company was floated in Sydney,' the mining engineer told me. 'That's how I came to get the job, as I was on the spot, straight back from a dud proposition in Afghanistan. After the difficulties I struck with transport there, I considered that South Australia would be easy. The starting-point for the mining plant was Hall's Creek, and there was fun enough getting it up there.'

'Where was the mine?' I asked. 'Nothing doing!' he chuckled. 'I may be going back there, if I ever make a pile out of tin out East, and I'll tell you then. At all events, I was allowed three months to have a battery erected, and was given two heavy lorries and six men to do it with. There was plenty of cash in the show, too, judging from salaries and unquestioned expenses, although I did not work them too hard at first, and when I woke up later, cash was getting short. There was sufficient plant to necessitate three trips. The first load took nine weeks to bring in. We started off a few days before the wet, and ended up running twenty feet at a time and then moving the planks for ward for the next bit, after we had dug them out of the mud. Then we had to go back and do the same with the other lorry, we only had two planks for emergency use. The gullies were a nightmare, especially the rocky ones, where there was no chance to dig out a decent grade. We had to stop and fell timber to bridge a lot of them. Luckily there was plenty of food and no shortage of water. I won't bore you with the weary details of the struggle in. When we got there, the dry had started and water was scarce. We had to sink and timber two wells to supply the men, and started on a third for the plant and engines later.

'We gave that up. though. We ran out of scaffolding, as there was not much timber handy, and I thought it would be easier to bring it in on the lorries from further out. I had an engineer and fitter with me. He kept the lorries alive, and found time some how, to help with the foundations and base work of the battery. We were about a month on the job, and ran out again in five days. Five days! And it had taken us sixty-three to come in!

'We did almost as well, coming out loaded on the second trip, just under a week. We did not leave a watch man, of course, and struck trouble first go. The blacks had been snooping round, and had taken all the scaffolding for firewood and let the wells cave in. We had been relying on the wells and only had twenty-five gallons of water with us. We drank a little of that on the way, too, where we did not camp near water. I sent both lorries out at once, and kept a laborer, named Jones, with me to clear the wells. It was touch and go, but we managed it just as we reached the last half-gallon in the tank. We used dressed timber to line them that had been brought in for another purpose on the run, but it was no time to argue over expense. We managed to make friends with the blacks, however and started to break them in to work. They had Jones worried, though. He would show a buck how to draw and carry a tin of water, and the buck would do it all right— just the one if you wanted two carried, you had to carry , two yourself to show them. As a labor saver the idea was only about 50 per cent, effective.

'I got a shock one morning when an unladen lorry came out for us in stead of the third and final load. It appeared that the company's credit was not the best. Mac, the engineer I mentioned, had been trying to get petrol and a new sump at the base, but cash down was the order of the day. They were frightened that we might be stumped on the field. We used the last of the oil to bring us in. I wired to Sydney from Hall's Creek, and was told to hang on pending reorganisation and the introduction of fresh capital. They got it all right, and paid up salary arrears in a month or two, but they were too slow about it. The wet was on us again, and I would not face the track a second time in the rain. It was eighteen months from the time I left Sydney before we got the last load of machinery in and mounted. Of course, the blacks had burned the wells again, thinking that the stuff was theirs once we had gone, and we had to remake them first job.

'Well, to make the story short, the first crushing was a bonanza, miles ahead of the trial assay the company had been formed on. It was just what the directors wanted. The shares were paid up to 6/3, and they jumped over night to 35/9. The directors unloaded so quickly that it was a wonder the speed did not burn them. Inside a week, you could buy the script any where for its price in paper. I was six months' wages short, and had no hope of collecting, but I managed to buy a lot of shares out of my previous savings pretty cheaply. I've still got them. I could not puzzle it out for a while. Then I woke up. I had been so long on the job that they thought I was as crooked as they were, and had managed to fake the report somehow. They must have made a few hundreds out of the show, but they dropped untold thousands. You see the gold really was there, and some day I'm going back to get it. The only thing is that I'll have to put in that plant all over again. The last act of the directors was to sell the lot for a fiver to some mug prospectors, who took it away to a new field about seven miles up and let it rust to pieces. The funny thing is that they moved it along four miles of solid gold-bearing reef, and never even took a sinking anywhere along the route. By Jove, there are some mugs in this game!''— 'Fisher '

Through South Australia's Back Door

With the exception of Burke and Wills, on their return journey after having crossed Australia from south to north, it is doubtful if anyone entered South Australia by its back door before George MacGillivray, that adventurous pastoralist who, early in the seventies, acquired all that country now known as Eddington station in north western Queensland. Shortly after settling at Eddington, MacGillivray decided to journey south to Wanaaring on the Paroo in New South Wales for the purpose of taking his family back to their new home in Queensland.

MacGillivray decided on a route fraught with danger, the way being southward until he had travelled far enough, and then to set out eastward for his destination. After leaving Eddington no habitation was expected to be met with until he Leached McTaggerty's Wooltana station. John Coririck was established at Nappa Merrie, but MacGillivray's route did not allow him to call there.

The only companions MacGillavray had were two blackboys, and after striking the Diamantina river, its course was followed for hundreds of miles. Only once was the party molested by blacks, but the event was a serious one for MacGillivray. All the rations in the camp were taken, and until Wooltana station was reached MacGillivray and his blackboys had to live on what Nature provided. The season being a good one, fish and ducks were plentiful in the waterholes, but many foodless days were passed after the river channels had been left and the way led through the sandhill country north of Wooltana.

After resting for several days at Wooltana, and with little better than his uncanny bush craft to assist him, MacGillivray set his face eastward, and he would have been the first white man to have crossed the Barrier Ranges (near where Broken Hill now stands), from the South Australian side. Eventually after travelling for months by this circuitous route and experiencing untold hardships, MacGillivray reached Wanaaring. He subsequently returned with his family to Eddington by a more direct route. — "Marsh."

A Casual Individual

Some years ago whilst droving cattle down the Marree stock route, I gave a job to one of the most casual characters I have ever encountered in the back country. Being short handed, it was essential to get someone, and on a track travelled by few seeking work, it seemed a heaven-sent blessing when a 'traveller' rode up to the camp just before dusk and asked if we were short handed. Few questions were asked by me as to the enquirer's stock experience. I would have taken on a wooden man in order to shorten the watches at night. The stranger was engaged on the spot.

Feed was scarce at the time and the cattle, although reasonably quiet, fat bullocks, had not been camping too well. So, not being too sure of the new man, I asked him to take the first watch. While he was having his tea I rode out and kept the mob together, allowing the horse-tailer to turn in, as he had agreed to take second watch instead of his customary first one.

After rather a lengthy delay, out came the stranger on one of the spare night horses, and after a few words I left him to it. Just as I had hobbled out my horse and returned to the fire the moon came up and soon flooded the claypan with light. With the night almost as bright as day, I thought it quite safe to turn in. Just as I dozed off the dull noise of walking cattle caused me to sit up in the blankets. As no answer came to my hail, I naturally thought that the new man had gone to sleep; so quickly pulling on my boots, I jumped up and was soon cantering out to head the lead of the walking bullocks. Just as I wheeled the lead of the strung-out mob the new man came trotting up.

'Did you fall asleep?' I asked, a little annoyed. 'Asleep? No,' he drawled, 'I was just taking a count of them to see if they were all there.' The new hand lost his job next day for trying to carve his name on the loins of one of the fattest bullocks with his whip.— A.N.M

Dingo Hunting

About 30 years ago, while living at Hammond, I had some interesting experiences with dingoes. They were very plentiful, and not only used to kill sheep but young cattle as well. One day when going after the horses, I saw six of my neighbor's calves, which had been killed by them.

On another occasion I was awakened in the middle of the night by the bellowing of a cow. I got up, and taking down my muzzle-loader I set out for where I could hear the cow bellowing. When I got to within 100 yards of her I saw three dingoes attacking her. Almost at the same time they saw me, and made straight for me. I sat down and took aim at the one nearest to me. I waited until he was about 10 yards away and then fired. He gave one plunge forward, and dropped to the ground dead. The other two, seeing their mate dead, turned and fled. It was lucky for me that they did, for it would have taken me some time to loads the gun again. I then went up to the cow, and found that she was badly torn about and unable to get up.

The dingoes became so bad, that all the people living near us decided to form a party and go hunting them with hounds and guns. It was a very hot day when we set out into the ranges after them. We had three large stag hounds with our party of a dozen horsemen. We had gone only about a mile, when we put up a big white dingo. We fired a couple of shots at it, but as they did not stop it we let the hounds go. They soon caught up to it and turned it a few times, but it doubled back on them, and then we started after it again. I had a big black horse which took the lead but before I could get close enough to shoot it the dingo took refuge in a small cave.

When all the horsemen came up, we began to wonder who would go in after it; but as I was the smallest I had to take the risk. They put a rope round my leg in order to pull me out if the dingo attacked me. When I had crawled in a little way I could see its leg sticking out from behind a rock. I sneaked up to the rock and taking the rope off of my leg I put it round the dingo's, and started to crawl out as quickly as possible. There was no cause for alarm, however, for when we dragged the dingo out we found that it was dead. —'Hero.'

[One spear kills two natives]

One Christmas time, in the early days of Streaky Bay, a number of blacks who were camped a mile or so out of the township obtained a quantity of liquor. The consequence was that two natives, Buckskin and January, quarrelled. Buckskin, in a fit of rage, grabbed a spear and hurled it at January, who received it in the chest. In spite of the pain, January jerked the spear out of his body and flung it back at Buckskin, striking him in the side. January died the next morning, and when the local police constable heard about it he went to the camp and arrested Buckskin, who was suffering somewhat from the wound in his side.

After Buckskin had been in gaol for a fortnight, he was allowed to go for a walk with his wife. They had not gone far, however, when he sat down by a fence and died. The exercise had caused a haemorrhage. Thus the two natives lost their lives by the one fateful spear. — Y.A.C.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1936, July 30). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 15. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92461580