25 June 1936

CAPTURE OF LEADER OF 'BLACK FACE ROBBERS'

Dog's Fidelity To His Master Betrayed Him To The Police

A young man went to the Colonial Treasurer (Mr. Osmond Gilles) early in 1837, soon after South Australia was founded, and told him that he had seen two grey mares wandering near his hut in the foothills, and that he and his mate, Joseph Storey, had been subsequently told that the horses belonged to Gilles. The man's story appeared to be genuine, but when he asked for a reward of £10 to go after them into the bush— for they would have gone a long way by then, he said— Gilles became suspicious and put up another proposition. This was that the man should act as guide for two of his friends, and that if they recovered the mares, £5 would be paid to him for his assistance.

The informer hesitated, but when Mr. J. W. Bull, who was present at the interview, forced him to admit that he had come from Tasmania, then a convict settlement, he agreed to the bargain. Storey would accompany the party, he said, as he was a better bushman.

Mr Bull and one of Gilles's clerks went to Storey's hut the next day and breakfasted with the two men there. It was a miserable morning with fog and no sun, and all the bushes were dripping wet. They set out, and after beating for several hours along deep gullies and over precipitous ridges they found no trace of the mares. There was no sun and they had no compass to guide them, but, by watching the direction of the spurs and creeks, Bull and his companion became convinced that Storey had been leading them backwards and forwards across the range.

Presently Storey dismounted and left the others. Bull then mounted Storey's horse, and instructed his companion to take the other two horses and ride off. 'When Storey returned Bull pointed at him and said, 'You can make your way back as best you can, you have been leading us about long enough.' They went over a ridge, and saw Adelaide below them, and then they realised how well they had been fooled. They had been 12 hours in the saddle looking for horses which did not exist in that section of the ranges. They realised that they had been led through the roughest of bush south of the hut.

Next day a mounted man searched to the north of Storey's hut early in the morning, and recovered the mares before they could be hidden for the day. This was one of the first introductions residents of Adelaide had to Joseph Storey, but they heard much of him later when he was arrested as leader of the 'Black Face Robbers,' a gang of miscreants from the hills, who visited the plains regularly for burglary, and having black faces to hide their identity, to some extent terrorised the little community. Apart from their burglary activities, Storey, Big Ben— a most desperate character— and a mate were suspected of cattle stealing.

Outwardly these men were timber sawyers and splitters, but a Mr. Ball, who kept an hotel at Kensington, recognised Storey in spite of his black face when he visited that neighborhood on one occasion. Two youths who were connected with the gang were arrested, but jumped the gaol fence, as so many other prisoners had done. Guards were armed with carbines at the corners of this roughly made compound, and the procedure for escape was for a disturbance to be created by prisoners in one part of the yard. When a guard left his corner to see what was the matter, one or two of the prisoners would rush to this spot, scramble over the wall, and disappear down the steep banks of the Torrens, very often before their absence was noticed.

One day when a party of police were looking for Storey in the ranges, Inspector Gordon noticed him scrambling up an opposite ridge, followed by a kangaroo dog. Sergeant-Major Alford, who was with the party, took particular notice of the dog. When they returned to their quarters, a trooper told Gordon that he had seen a man escaping into the bush. The troopers spread out and surrounded the thick tea tree and took him captive. He was one of the youths.

Many attempts were made to catch Storey and his mates, but they always eluded the police. The party came upon Josh Lines, a timber cutter, who was a relation of Alford's. 'Harry, what are you after?' he enquired. 'Storey,' was sufficient answer. 'Well, you will never get him, replied Lines. 'There are too many of you, and you make too much noise with your swords. I saw Joe near here this morning. You go away and return in an hour's time, but do not let him know that I gave you information or I shall be killed. He is armed with pistols.' 'Has he a kangaroo dog with him?' Alford asked. 'Yes, and be careful, as he has threatened to take your life,' was the final warning.

Presently Alford was informed that Storey was at Brown's hut, and had the dog with him. He set off with Dawson and Mc Mahon, and found a little boy at the door of the hut. 'Have you seen anybody about who owns that dog,' Alford asked. 'Yes,' answered the boy. 'Do you know where he is now?' 'No.' 'Has he pistols on him.' 'Yes.' 'My boy, if you will speak the truth I will give you sixpence,' said Alford. 'Do you know where the man is?' 'No,' said the boy. 'Where are your father and mother?' 'Up the rise working.' 'Go and tell them I want them.'

As the boy left, the men searched the hut, but did not find anyone inside. They then searched around outside, but still could find no trace of Storey. They went over the floors of the two rooms looking for a trap-door, but could see none. They then searched the scrub again, but without result. Just as they were about to give up the search, Alford tried to drive the dog away, but he snarled and would not move. This was sufficient proof that Storey was near at hand.

The boy came back and said that his father and mother had gone away, Alford and his companions decided to make a more thorough search of the hut after the dog, by his actions had confirmed their suspicions that Storey was somewhere around. They became suspicious of a shelf above the bed which they had passed over previously as being too narrow for a man to lie on. One of the troopers got on the bed and found Storey lying on the shelf. He was ordered to come down, and the two troopers covered him with their carbines.

'Surrender quietly,' said Alford, 'and first give up your firearms, handling the pistols by the muzzles. Pre sent the butts to me, for you will be shot if you raise your weapons in any other manner.' The pistols were handed down, and Storey was handcuffed. Four loaded barrels had proved too much even for him. He was brought to Adelaide, where he was tried and sentenced to death as a burglar and head of the 'Black Face Robbers,' but the sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation for life.— C.V.H.

The Wreck Of the Margaret Brock

In the late forties and early fifties the Margaret Brock was a regular trader between Tasmania and Port Adelaide with timber, but when the Victorian goldfields were discovered she took up the passenger trade between Port Adelaide and Melbourne.

With a passenger list of 44, five of whom were women with three children, and with a crew of seven, the Margaret Brock left Port Adelaide on November 21, 1852. Soon after midnight on the morning of November 23, she was hard and fast on a reef twelve miles from the land off Cape Jaffa.

The sea was running high, and the captain tried to lighten the ship by throwing the cargo overboard in the hope of floating off, but could not move her. It was then decided to take to the boats, of which they had but two. The passengers collected some of their lighter luggage, and eventually the first boat with the mail bags was got away.

When they had got the second boat nearly filled it was discovered that its carrying capacity was not sufficient for the whole of those left. Seven of them therefore volunteered to re main—four of the crew and three passengers—the captain promising that a boat would return for them. Owing to the tempestuous state of the sea this was deferred until about four o'clock, when it was considered advisable to take the risk for the sake of those left on board.

On reaching the wrecked vessel the sea was running so high that they could not get near enough to take them off, so they had to don lifebelts and throw themselves into the sea, and were rescued by the boat's crew with difficulty. Eventually they succeeded in reaching the shore after battling through the breakers.

A cheerless night was spent on shore without bed or bedding, but fortunately there was plenty of firewood. Breakfast from two cheeses and a bag of ship's biscuits cheered them up a little, and after a consultation as to what they should do, they decided to try to get to Adelaide by the overland track, although the newly settled town of Robe was but 20 miles away by land. The mail bags were bulky and heavy, and after further consultation they decided to burn them; then picking up their belongings they started on then weary march of about 200 miles.

They had landed about eight miles south of Maria Creek, and the tracks of a spring dray led them in that direction. They passed the creek, and made another camp. When they were about eight miles past the creek next morning they met a black boy employed on Blackwood station who told them that his boss, Mr. Gifford, had seen their tracks the day before. Mr. Gifford soon appeared and, learning their plight, sent the blackfellow to the station for all the available damper and meat. On his return he was sent on to Tilleys station for more meat and damper, and told to meet them along the road.

Mr. Gifford travelled with the party for about ten miles, giving the women and children rides on his horse. Before leaving them he shot a bullock, so they had a sufficiency of at least one kind of food, and to help it out Mr. Tilley had sent along a good supply of flour.

Before Mr. Gifford left the captain sent word back by him, which he promised to send on to Captain Brewer at Robe, to take charge of the vessel as Receiver of Wrecks.

After many hardships, in which they were greatly assisted by Mr. P. B. Coghlin, the party eventually reached Adelaide after about a fortnight on the road. The reef on which the vessel was wrecked was named the Margaret Brock Reef, and it is on it that the Cape Jaffa Lighthouse was erected in the early seventies; but that was not until some other disastrous wrecks had occurred there, one of which was the Agnes in December, 1865, when only one man got ashore on a spar.— Tanta-Tyga.

Thought He Had Forgotten Something

It is a good many years ago now that the mustering camp with which I was then associated ran out of tobacco. The aborigines attached to the camp had plentiful supplies, but the 'nigger twist,' as the blacks' tobacco was then called, was just a little too potent for us. The nearest store was sixty miles away, so the camp boss, himself a smoker, decided to send in one of the stockmen for tobacco supplies. Unfortunately the boss's choice was not a happy one; he should have sent a smoker instead of the man selected, who had never even smoked a cigarette.

The messenger was absent for three days, during which time some of us suffered 'corn-beef' cigarettes, that is, 'nigger-twist' cut up as finely as possible and rolled in whatever paper was available. One or two whiffs, however, were more than sufficient to satisfy the tobacco appetite of even the most inveterate smoker.

Word that our messenger was in sight brought feelings of relief to us all, and anxiously we awaited his arrival. Dismounting and casually throwing off the led horse's pack bags, the returned stockman seemed quite surprised to see the cook make a hurried move to open the pack bags. 'You needn't look,' remarked the stockman, 'I never brought out a bottle.' 'Bottle he hanged!' replied the cook, disgust plainly visible on his face as he felt the empty pack bags. 'Where's the tobacco?' 'Tobacco?' came the surprised cry. 'I was wondering all the way back if I hadn't forgotten anything.'

The boss's face was a study, and if looks could have killed that stockman would have expired on the spot. After most of us had joined in the cursing that followed, the boss took a hand. 'Get fresh horses, have a feed and start off back again, but don't come here without tobacco,' he ordered. We had I another three days' tobacco starve before our friend returned, but this time he had not forgotten.— 'Old Timer.'

Real Life Stories of South Australia (1936, June 25). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92344438