PADDY CAHILL.

Press, Volume LIX, Issue 17701, 1 March 1923, Page 9

PADDY CAHILL.

BUSHMAN, HUNTER, SAILOR. Over forty years ago a boy of sis- [ teen, young-looking even for that age, ( left his father's homestead in Southern ; Queensland to try hid fortune. He was £ Paddy Cahill, a typical young Aus- ; tralian, full of grit and self-confidonco. ( Tho North beckoned, and he responded v (writes Dr. >J. A. Gilruth iu tho Mel- , bourne "Argus"'). After working at | various jobs on cattle runs uud sugar plantations, in the early eighties ho , joined a baud of drovers who were talc- i t several thousands of cattle across , Australia to the Victoria River in the , -Northern Territory. Tfie journey occu- j pied a year. Day after day, wee); alter , week, ilio intrepid ~ band pushed their j ■way across tho face of the continent. Fur weeks at a time the supplies of , Hour, tea, and sugar were doled out in , famine portions. Beef alone there was . in plenty. Eventually the herd was delivered. Young Cahill then became stockman, and 600n afterwards manager of the Delamere run, a holding of several thousand square miles in extent. The life, exciting enough to a newcomer, soon palled on the adventurous youth. So north again he trekked, this "time to shoot buffalo. Stories of fortunes to bo made from buffalo hido, together with tho excitement of the chase, had reached the interior. Young Cahill, who had developed a faculty oi getting to know the aborigine, felt this was his' sphere. So in duo course he reached the vast plains of the East Alligator River, where tho buffalo roamed in thousands. Accompanied by his equally intrepid wife, he built a rude shack on the banks of a beautiful lagoon, termed by the blackfellows Ocupelli. Soon he made friends with the native tribes and studied their habits and the language. Naturally he became the trusted friend and father. In' ton years the hunter marketed no fewer than ten thousand hides. The business of shooting in itself is full of excitement. ' But the delivery of hide to the nearest port, Darwin, was no less arduous. No transport being available, Cahill purchased first a lujger, and later an auxiliary ketch. These lie had to sail and navigate himself, with the sole, help of liis native staff. So he became an expert seaman by force of circumstances. When £he Government wished, on the recommendation ,of Sir Baldwin Spencer, to establish an aborigines' station north of Darwin ten years ago the selection of a sito naturally fell on Ocupelli, and the charge on Cahill. His knowledge of the blackfellows and his influence ,over them were known far and-wide to European and native alike. His fame as a medicine man had spread throughout the Arnheim Land. I have seen Myall blacks far beyond the Goyder arrive at Ocupelli- with their sick, having braved the' terrors of unknown Country and hostile tribes to seek relief from the almost fabled Paddy. The complaints were generally simple, the constitutions robust, so tlie homely medicants applied were usually successful. The visitors were never treated as, mendicants. 'For what the tribe received some quid pro quo was demanded. It might be tho chopping of some firewood, the gathering of honey bags, or the spearing of fish.' Some return for food Vnd medicine was .required. So the self-respect of the blaekfellow was preserved. At Ocupelli therei was no "Jacky," "Tommy," "Billv"—to each native , was given his tribal name/ and they responded with pleasure.- : Cahill treated his black attendants and subjects (for so they were)<as a patriarch treated his tribe. Always just (as understood by the black), nsver capricious, always with a jest on his lips and good-humoured smile on his genial countenance, he was beloved. At his work he was full of resource — the double resource of the bushman aa;d the sailor; When our new settlers lost 20 per cent, of the cows advanced to them in the sixty-mile trip.to the Daly River, Cahill lost but four in a journey three times as long, though his only helpers were his wife and his blacks. .And his lot was the weaker half of the herd, a herd which.had been starved on the Voyage to Darwin. He established a daiiy * and produced butter of good quality. A small refrigerator from a dismantled steamer was handed over to him, so he built and equipped a cool store ? makitig his own charcoal for inisulation. Now the king-of pionee?s is-no more. For years.he had looked forward'to a. Melbourne Cun, the Mecca of every bufihman; of the north. Leave was ob- - tained, but on the way .south he fell ill. The hardships so uncomplainingly endured had left their mark, the malaria germs controlled for decades had ..undermined that stocky, undaunted body. He arrived in Melbourne for the Cup., but a private hospital claimed him. Gradually lie wasted, but his spmt did not flag. He was, to the last the 'same cheery optimist. He would discuss his future work and'relate his . past experiences ever with ready quip. On Cup Day I called. He lav in a cheerless room, in which the bed occupied the greater' part of the space. Laughing, he said, "Fancy me, after a lifetime under the sky, being leg-roped, with only a d—d keyhole to \ look at day and night!'' The cold of Melbourne told on him, and he masted on being: taken to Svdney. • This was arranged, with loving friends to minister on the witv. But the end was near. All the Territory will mourn his loss., If ever I met a. man it was Paddy Cahill—a true friend, a genial companion, ever the -same in success and adversity, he was. of the best that Australia can produce.