22 July 1937

FORTUNE PLAYS STRANGE PRANKS AT TIMES

Chance Meeting Brings Man A Fortune

Dame Fortune visits people in many shapes and guises, but when Tiny Hanlon was badly smashed up in the Hampden Mine, Kuridala, Queensland, he thought that he was badly done by, as anyone would in the same circumstances. Included in his injuries were a broken leg and a broken foot. As a result it was about two years before he was able to walk without a stick, and Tiny's finances naturally sank very low.

He had done a little stock work in his younger days, and as his first experience in the mines had proved so disastrous, he did not relish the idea of taking on mining again. However, his foot was still too weak to take on saddle work for some time to come, and not being the type who would live on someone else, the year 1915 found him in Duchess, a copper mining town in the west of Queensland, again working in the mines.

After he had been there for some time, trouble arose regarding the amount the men were paying for board at the hotels, of which there were three, and at a meeting of miners it was decided to send a deputation to the licensees of the various hotels in forming them that if board was not reduced from 35/ to 30/ a week the men had decided to institute a beer strike. The publicans refused the request of the deputation, so the strike was declared, the men taking their turn as pickets in rotation.

On one occasion Tiny was on picket duty in front of Mrs. Corcoran's hotel, before which a game of two-up was in progress, and Tiny, feeling like a little gamble, put on a substitute picket for an hour. While the game was in progress the mail car pulled up in front of the hotel, and a stranger stepped out, dusty and dry, with a thirst that a sailor on a six months' dry cruise would have envied. He had barely reached the bar before the substitute picket was on him with the words, 'Say, stranger, you cannot get a drink here. There's a beer strike on.'

The stranger said something about not being interested, and mentioned that he had just come a distance of more than 400 miles. The picket then called on Tiny to come and explain things. Tiny, by the way, was six foot three inches in height and weighed over fourteen stone. Emerging from the game, it was not long before the stranger was in full possession of the details, and being a good sport, promised Tiny that he would be with the 'boys.' He was leaving for Sydney next day, and as he had not had a drink of liquor for about four months, one day extra was neither here nor there.

The landlady's daughter showed him to his room, and when at the top of the stairs he suddenly asked, 'By the way, Miss, who is the very tall young man who stopped me from having a drink? His face is very familiar to me. She replied, 'I am not sure. He is a stranger here, but I think his name is Hanlon.' Without saying another word the stranger made one leap down the stairs, and calling Tiny, asked him if he could have a word with him. At this from all sides came the cry, 'It's no good, stranger. You can't get around Tiny.'

Going into a side parlor, Tiny received the surprise of his life. The stranger's first question was, 'You don't know me, do you?' Tiny replied, 'No. To the best of my belief I have never seen you in my life before.' 'My name is Tom Hanlon,' answered the stranger, 'and I am a cousin of yours. I have just come in from my mines at Hatch's Creek with a parcel of wolfram. It is coming along the road per camel team now, and after I get it to Townsville I am going to Sydney for a well-earned holiday. What are you doing here?'

'Working in the mine,' replied Tiny. 'Go back home,' said his cousin, 'and when I am coming bank I'll take you with me. I can put you on something better than that.'

True to his word, Tom Hanlon took Tiny out to Hatch's Creek, and by the time the market for wolfram had fallen, namely, after the Armistice in 1913, Tiny had cleared up nearly nine thousand pounds. Where Dame Fortune took a hand was that just before his accident Tiny had made up his mind that he would leave Kuridala and the mines the first chance he had, and go back to stock work. The injury to his foot compelled him to relinquish the idea of the saddle, hence his chance meeting with his cousin and gaining a small fortune.

Tom Hanlon, though not the discoverer of Hatch's Creek, was the man who developed it, and during the war years provided the nation with the bulk of Australia's supply of wolfram. In later years he discovered the huge silver-lead reserves at Jervois Range.

To many who were interested in athletics in the early years of the war, his name should be very familiar, as it was during that period that he threw out a challenge to the standing broad jumpers of Australia that he would produce a blackboy who would give any of them one foot start, or that he would back his boy to jump fourteen feet in a standing broad jump with weights. He was prepared to wager up to £1,000 on the result. However, there were no takers, although the Australian record at that time was 13 ft. 5 in., the holder being Jimmy Gredden, of Roma, who had accomplished the feat years before. — 'Mike O'Bader.'

Payment In Horse-Flesh

During the 1935 drought in Queensland a mate and I were hard put to secure grass for our horses. It was useless asking for employment at any of the stations through which we passed, for even if stockmen were required there was not much chance of us getting a job with so many of our horses requiring what little grass there was. We would have sold our horses for anything at all, but we would have had a job to give them away. But just when the ration bags were as light as they could possibly be and we were at our wit's end to know what to do for the best, we heard of a cattle station needing musterers. We could not get to that station quickly enough.

Arriving near the station homestead, we made a camp on an out of the way creek, and after hobbling our horses, we mounted two in the best condition, and rode up to interview the manager about the job we hoped to get. Fortunately the manager was at home, and after a short interview we were given jobs. The manager seemed a decent sort, so my mate told him bluntly that we had a few horses. Would they settle our chances? The manager thought for a few moments, and asked how many we had and where were they. He seemed as though he was going to have a fit when my mate told him twenty-seven. Finally the manager, said that we could leave our horses where they were and bring our swags up to the station that night, as he was sending the musterers out next morning.

My mate was a good horseman, and during the muster rode most of the colts that had been broken in some months previously and turned out without having been worked. A good horseman himself, the manager seemed to take to my mate and myself, and after three weeks' cattle mustering he said that he would give us an extra week helping with the horse muster. We learnt from the head stockman that any horses not worth while were to be drafted off and destroyed, and he suggested that the manager might give us some, of the unbroken ones if they were any good to us.

We were not very interested at the time, as we did not know where we were to get enough grass for the few we had after we left the station. A couple of hundred horses had been mustered and during drafting some good sorts were being culled out. Many of the horses drafted off as useless were unbroken, but there were some half draughts, a bit old perhaps, but worth money if in condition.

All told, about fifty were culled out, and arrangements were made to take them to a paddock and shoot them. It was then that my mate had a brain wave, and after he had talked matters over he approached the manager and suggested a deal. We had four weeks' wages coming to us, about £24, so my mate offered to take four pounds and the horses about to be shot. The manager was not too keen on the proposition at first, but said he would make the deal if we would give a guarantee that the horses would be taken out of the district. He said that he had given old horses away before but those to whom he had given them had only taken them a few miles away and then let them go, the consequence being that the horses had come back to the station again. After we had promised to take the horses a few hundred miles away, the manager agreed to do as we had suggested.

Two days later we left the station, with money in our pockets, ration bags well filled, and, including our own, over 70 horses. And, as though made to order, good rains fell before we were many miles on our way. We reckoned that we were made men. After about a month good grass appeared, and within a few weeks the horses were getting into good shape.

My mate suggested that we should make for the coastal areas and see if we could dispose of the horses. It was a long way to travel, but by doing short stages and giving the horses every chance, we reckoned that they would be in good fettle by the time we reached the sugar cane growing areas, where there was always a good demand for horses.

We arrived in the Mackay district just as cane harvesting was about to commence, and, after selling ten horses at a sale, we toured the district, calling on every farm on the way. We sold some our own horses, but, although several of the gift horses, as we called them, were not worth much, we managed to sell 64 horses all told. The average price worked out at a little under five pounds per head, so in reality our month's work at the station had been worth about 300 pounds to us. But we battled hard for every penny of it.— 'Up North.'

Bill's Snake

It was the practice several years ago for parties to go from Millicent to Lake Bonney, which is about six miles distant, for the Christmas and Easter holidays, which were spent in boating, duck shooting, or fishing. One party of four men had journeyed up the lake by boat, and after pitching the camp and shooting a few ducks in the evening, had the usual camp fire yarn and decided to turn in in readiness for an early start in the morning.

Lights were put out, and quietness reigned over the camp, when Charlie woke with a start in the small hours to hear Bill whispering his name, 'Charlie, Charlie.' Thinking that Bill was talking in his sleep, he gave a chuckle and prepared to turn over, when again he heard an urgent whisper, 'Charlie, Charlie.'

By now being fully awake and aware of the note of urgency in Bill's voice, he asked 'What's up. Bill?' Bill replied, 'Quick, Charlie. There's a snake lying across by throat.' Charlie said, 'My God. man, keep still then.'

Quietly rousing Sam and Alf, he quickly explained in whispers Bill's predicament, and proceeded to set out his plan of action. Sam was to strike a light, and Charlie and Alf (who had meanwhile armed themselves with a tomahawk and wire rifle cleaner respectively) would endeavor to dispatch the unwelcome visitor.

Sam said. 'Ready,' and struck a match, and Charlie and Alf leaned over to get in a deadly blow to find Bill lying as stiff as a poker, dead white, and his eyes staring horror stricken. Grins spread over the others' faces as they realised that Bill's snake was his own braces, which had worked around his neck while asleep, he having used his trousers for a pillow. It was a grand joke for the other three, but it took Bill a few days to recover from the shock.— 'Dig.'