17 September 1936

WHEN THE TANTANOOLA TIGER TERRORISED THE SOUTH-EAST

Mysterious Animal That Reappeared After Having Been Shot

At some time or other, most South Australians must have heard references to the Tantanoola tiger, but there seems to be much doubting nowadays whether the legendary animal ever existed, whether he was caught, or how he was dealt with. 

About 1893 peculiar grunting noises were heard in the ti-tree swamps in the South-East, near Tantanoola. At first these were attributed by the superstitious to the presence of the bunyip, but someone told a story about a tiger cub having escaped from a circus eight years before, and the 'Tantanoola tiger' be came the demon which was killing sheep, leaving heads, skins and shank bones. Someone else averred that tigers had no particular liking for sheep's' heads, and the phenomenon was explained. 

People began seeing the tiger, and, though he was tracked— Mounted constables Russell and Foote and a black tracker were sent out— he always disappeared. Mr. C. Mackenzie offered a reward of £50 to the man who captured the animal alive, or £25 for the carcase, with a suit of clothes given in in either case. Mr. Donald Smith swore that he had seen the tiger on Paltridge & Co.'s run when it was carrying away a sheep, but, although an intensive search was carried on, no further trace of the animal was found. 

Mr. George Rlddock, member of Parliament for the district, was instrumental in having two boarhounds and staghounds taken to the South-East to track the tiger, but, although indistinct prints of some beast were found, that was the end of it. 

The tiger then wandered afar, and is reported to have appeared in Coleraine, Victoria, Willunga, and Bendigo, and also in the main street of another Victorian town. Mr. Riddock engaged two Afghans, who had had tiger shooting experience in India, and, equipping them with police guns, horses and provisions, set them on the trail of the elusive tiger. The terms were £100 reward for the capture of the animal, nothing for failure. They failed, but the tiger continued to be seen as far away as Mount Macedon in Victoria. 

Two years after the scare started, Mr. R. T. White saw a strange striped beast at the moment that his wife, safely asleep at home, was dreaming that her husband was being mauled by the tiger. Nothing came of that, however. 

There was a sensation in August, 1895, when Mr. Tom Donovan shot the tiger— a striped European wolf— at a Mount Schanck outstation, Mount Salt. It was hailed as a great day for the South-East to be rid of this menace, and the animal was stuffed, and can still be seen at Mr. Donovan's museum, on the Glenelg River, not far from Nelson. 

The strange thing, however, was that a few months after it had been shot, the tiger reappeared. A youth named Bearmore was taking some clothes on the back of a mule to the Averfeddy River, where his sister was doing the family washing, when an animal, 'twice as large as a big dog and striped like a tiger'— to use his own description— came out of the bush. The mule stopped dead, and the tiger passed on. Later, his sister told how the tiger had scared her at the river. 

Then a year later, Mr. H. Grosser's son said that he and the dogs with him had been frightened by an animal at Buck's Ford, near Carpenter's Rocks. It sat on its haunches within 15 yards of him in broad daylight. The tiger crouched ready to spring, but Grosser dodged behind a bush and escaped. He described the animal as 3 ft. high and 4 ft. long, with a flexible tail and striped. The description was valued, for no one—as a local correspondent put it — had seen the tiger in 'such advantageous circumstances.' 

All the time sheep were disappearing, and for everything that happened the tiger was blamed. Indeed, a tiger was to blame, but he was human. 

A certain man was employed by Mr. James Chant, of Tantanoola, in his wool shed, and wool was missed. Bags of the best wool had gone, and, al though a certain man was suspected, no proof could be obtained. Later, the bags were found in a crop paddock. 

One day, Messrs. Frank Osborne, C. F. and J. P. Burchard, were walking through the ti-tree scrub near Lake Bonney, seven miles south of Tantanoola, when they came on a narrow path, screened by green boughs, which led to a yard, eight to ten yards square, hewn out of the ti-tree. The place was a shambles, the ground being littered with freshly-killed sheep's carcases. In the surrounding ti-tree many other carcases had been allowed to rot. Thirteen skins were hanging on wires, and 15 animals had just been killed. 

From this yard a track led to another one, which was in as equally bad condition. A loaded .303 rifle, presumably in case of accidents, was found there. 

It was only by chance that this slaughterhouse, which had apparently been used for years, was found, for the greatest care had been taken to conceal the entrance, which was not more than 30 inches wide Through an ingenious passage, a way of escape had been made. 

A little way from the ti-tree scrub the man suspected of stealing the wool had established a rabbitter's camp, and not far from the ti-tree a valuable pony stallion and a fat bullock had been shot mysteriously. The smell which was noticed on approaching the ti-tree was assumed to come from these dead animals. 

A few days later a 'swagman'— Detective Allchurch in disguise— arrested the suspect in the Tantanoola Hotel. When charged, he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced in April of the next year to six years' imprisonment for sheep stealing. He said that it was intended to abandon the yard, as red spiders had got into the ti-tree, and were giving him and his accomplices ti-tree itch. 

When further investigations were made, many more of these cleverly concealed slaughter yards were found, but from then onwards the Tantanoola tiger disappeared.— C.V.H. 

A Shortage Of Ballot Papers 

Hundreds of visitors to the Adelaide Museum have gazed, with a mixture of amusement and reverence, at the little, hand-operated machine with which Robert Thomas, the founder of the 'Register,' printed the first South Australian proclamations, ordinances, and newspapers. 

This primitive machine, known as & Stanhope press, represented a real advance in the history of printing, for, at the time of its invention by Earl Stanhope at the end of the eighteenth century, it was the first printing press to be made of iron. 

As an interesting relic of earlier days the Stanhope press remained in the 'Register' printing office for many years after it had been superseded by more efficient machines. 

An important occasion arose, however, when a worried official was only too glad to avail himself of its humble services. On a Saturday afternoon in December, 1900, the municipal elections were in progress, and towards four o'clock the Town Clerk of Adelaide was concerned to find that, as a result of unexpectedly heavy polling in one of the wards, he was faced with a shortage of voting papers. 

He hurried to the 'Register' printing office, only to learn that there was not a single printer on the premises. After a little quick thinking he called a cab and drove to the residence of the 'Register's' printing manager, whom he was relieved to find at home. 

Upon learning of the Town Clerk's predicament, the manager agreed to hurry back to the newspaper office in the hope of getting an extra supply of ballot papers printed. But with neither steam to drive the presses, nor workmen to operate them, the manager could think of no other way out of the difficulty but to see what could be done with the Stanhope press. 

Though irritatingly slow, the old machine proved equal to the emergency, and as fast as the voting papers were printed they were rushed off in small parcels to the Town Hall, where the situation had begun to look desperate. 

By dint of an hour's hard work at the handle and the lever the manager and his impromptu assistant succeeded in turning out two or three hundred ballot papers— not a very big output, certainly, but enough to tide over the shortage. 

Thus the old, almost forgotten machine was the means of saving the City from the inconvenience and the expense of a fresh election.— Jeepee. 

Story Of A Ten Pound Note 

A young married woman had decided on a holiday to the city. She was already packed up and dressed for the trip, when her husband asked if she was sure that she had enough money. 

She replied that she thought she had, and in confirmation ran over some of the larger items of expenditure she had to incur, the principal one of which was the cost of her train fare. Holding a ten pound note out to her he remarked that she had better take it to make sure, and that if she did not require to use it she could bring it back.

She started on her journey with a compartment to herself, but at the next station a motherly looking old lady got in. As she looked quiet and respectable the young woman decided to take an early opportunity of opening up conversation. But before she did so the tram reached a station where newspapers were on sale, and she got out to procure one, leaving her handbag on the seat. 

When she returned she thought to herself that it was a foolish thing to have done, and to make sure, decided to look and see if the contents were all right. She did so, and to her astonishment found that her ten pound note was not there. She had most uncharitable thoughts about the old lady, and altered her opinion about making her acquaintance. 

Later the old lady left the compartment, and also left her bag on the seat. The young woman decided to take advantage of the opportunity to look in the bag and see if her note was there. 

She did so, and sure enough there was a ten pound note carefully folded in the reticule as she had expected to find her own. She therefore took it and made no reference to either incident; nor did she in any way try to cultivate the old lady's acquaintance as she had intended. 

After her holiday was over and she had returned home her husband enquired how she had got on, and whether she had had enough money. 'Oh, yes,' she replied, and handing back the ten pound note remarked that she had not had to change It. Her husband with surprise remarked, 'Why, woman, you went off leaving it on the table.'— Tanta-Tyga. 

Brumby Mare With Pace 

As a rule most brumbies are nondescripts, but occasionally something of quality is secured by runners— the outcome possibly of a lucky blending; between one of the brumby entires and a clean bred mare, that had strayed and joined the brumby forces. Such must have been the pedigree of an outstanding filly we once secured in the rough and hilly country adjacent to the Leichardt River, North-Western Queensland. 

Horses were bringing good money at the time, and with nothing in view. I decided to join two young fellows to a brumby running expedition. 

After three weeks of hard riding and plenty of thrills about 90 saleable horses had been secured. Many others bad been run and yarded, but only the pick were retained; bullets ended the days of all not thought worthwhile. 

We soon had them in hand and ready for a move. We intended to truck them to a sale due to be held on the coast. Branding had, however, to take place first, and as all of our 90 were mares and fillies, we decided to build a crush and thus dispense with roping and throwing. 

Midway between operations I was greatly taken with the lines of a jet black filly. Before her time came for branding I suggested smok-o, during which I asked the other two to value the filly, intimating that I would like to buy her myself. 

The upshot was that the filly became mine for nothing, although I offered to pay £5 to each of my partners. In due course the filly was drafted off at the trucking yards, and I gave her to a friend to break in. Eventually she was tried out, and although I anticipated that she had pace, I was agreeably surprised to see her make a common hack of a pretty fair performer at picnic races. One of the few spectators at the trial offered me £100 for a half share, but I refused. 

Within eighteen months of her first race — a maiden event in which she ran off the track when leading by lengths— the black brumby filly had won seventeen races out of twenty-three she had started in. I don't know how many offers I refused for her, but I wanted to keep her for breeding purposes. 

Always of a nervous nature, the filly's racing days ended when she knocked her hip down through cannoning against a gate post. I later mated her with the best thoroughbred sire in the district, hoping to get something with pace like herself, but ample proof of what a freak she must have been was given when I saw her first foal. 

It was hairy legged and inclined more towards a draught horse than a thoroughbred. She was mated with two other sires of undoubted breeding later on, but the results were little better, thus convincing me that the brumby mare was throwing back to something totally unlike herself.— 'Overlander.'