MEN OF THE NORTH.

Clutha Leader, Volume XLVI, Issue 78, 2 April 1920, Page 8

MEN OF THE NORTH.

It is easy to commit a crime in central Australia, 'but it is catch the criminal, writes Cqtartd Bajfce in the Melbourne Herald. There are so few places where a man can obtain water or replenish his tucker-bags that anyone who is trying to escape from the law must be seen sooner or later, and, in such a thinly populated district, every man remembers every other lor years afterwards. There is room for all comers to make, their living in the wide freedom of the central plains, and it is rare that anyone eithej chooses or in driven to run counter to the law. When he does so, he is most certainly brought to book. Popular opinion is 'against, the lawbreaker, and it needs wry few police troopers to keep order over tlic vast area of central Austra-

Theiv aiv three police stations in the cent re: one at Oodnodatta, with an out-station about three days west, one ai the Alice Well, where a lonely trooper is on duty, and one at Alice Springs, where two and sometimes three members of the force are stationed to supervise the whole of the Macdonnel Ranges, and the wolfram-bearing country to the north. These six men are lull of the pride of their calling, and wUI follow a criminal to the limit of hnman endurance —and beyond—rather than let him slip through their fingers. The following incident, which occurred in the summer of 1912, is typical. The body of a murdered Chinaman was found in a Government well. Hing Wow—called Chink for short throughout the bush—was a well-known character, pious and childlike in appearance and behavior, but a cunning rogue at heart. No one knew how much money had passed from Afghan pockets into Chink's in return for the coveted opium. Tracks around the well proved that the murderer of Hing Wow was a white man named Jack Hooks, who had evaded the Queensland police for a number of years. The murderer's tracks led south, and it was clear that he was making for Charlotte Waters, hoping io cross the Territory border there, and thus complicate matters by seeking refuge in another State. Hooks had passed Alice Springs before the crime was discovered.

Two troopers were at Alice Springs just then, Bob McNeil, an old man of 65, and Peterson, who had recently come up. Bob took up the challenge, and set out. A usual police party consists of a trooper, a couple of black trackers, and a plant of horses, but Bob went alone with two saddle horses and one to carry his swag and tucker. Alice Springs is on the great Overland Telegraph line, and Hooks was. travelling along tlit* line and was known to have a receiver with which he could tap the line. So, to confuse an possible ally of the murderer, Trooper McNeil set out due north. His horses were blood stock, and lie rode hard turning east and then south, till he picked up the runaway's tracks a bare 30 miles north of Charlotte Waters. He came upon a camp fire where Hooks had cooked damper, and found the ashes warm. His man was just - McXt ' il off his pack, hobbled two of the horses, and set forward at a gallop. He saw his man, and pulled up. I" appearance the trooper looked just like an old stockman, but before lie rode up to Hooks he loosened a service revolver at his belt. Hooks carried a rifle across his pommel, and when the old man greeted him with "Good day, lie heard the hammer of the rifle click as it was put to full cock. "Good day," answered Hooks. "Travelling?" ventured McNeil. • D,f jOO ' is dooming well like it, dosen't it? was the surly response. But the trooper'was not t.o be gainsaid. "No offence meant, mate. No oftence. . , Got a match vou can lend a bloke?" *" -* ■ " - -

Hooks looked the old stockman up and down, and handed over the matches.

"Where are you from?" he asked in his turn.

' Old Crown Station," was tlie answer "Travelling fast, Man on station broke his leg. Going on to the Charlotte. Sent a wire, you know." And so the conversation went on till about midday, without any plan suggesting itself to the trooper. Hooks was a noted pigeon shot with a rifle, so 13ob asked, after a time Any good with that rifle, mate?" Hooks started. "Whv?" lie asked suspiciously. ' ' '■' Oh,", was the casual answer, "just wondered. "Water-hole near here. Lot's of pigeons. Pretty good with the rifle myself."

So am I,' answered his companion, received the laughing rejoinder Oh, yes I know all about that. You young fellows all reckon vou can beat an old timer."

By this time thev were at the waterhole, and, , sure enough, a flock of crested' pigeons rose at their approach.

, Both men dismounted. "Here," said McNeil, holding out his hand for the rifle, "I U Bhow vou." - But nothing .would induce Hooks to part with his weapon. ''Show what vou can do yourself, then, taunted the trooper. " You talk big. Let s see you pot a couple of those birds." Hooks fell into the trap. His pride was at stake. Lifting the ride to his shoulder, he dropped a bird witli a clean shot.

"Fluke," said McNeil. "Try another.

Tins went on till six birds had fallen. XT •f ow , comes mv turn," said McAeil. drawing his revolver. "Hands up!"

Hooks turned ou his assailant like a Hash, and pulled the trigger of his rifle. Ite magazine was emptv. The rest was easy. ■4 1 ? en^ Australian trooper is a, picked man. He must he the physical superior of the few whites he may meet themselves no mean specimens or development—and must be an expert in the "noble art of'self-defence." Ho must bo very tactful, for the buslimau is quick to resent "ballv interfereuco, resourceful, able to inspire the respect of natives, and, above all, must be endowed with those rare <iualitics 01 wind, -heart, and bodv that lit a man for bush life. Chief, however, of a Central Australian trooper's qualifications is an ability to live alone. He; mav lie stationed at an "outpost 200 tor 300 miles away from the nearest white man, his only companions being wild blacks, it naa been the wrifcSpV lot to camp with theso splendid"njfig. One in particular impressed hini. a&et him be called Smith—it was mil nainc^Hc had been stationed at Canteen Creek t r >' e a r ? and during most of that tanie hie-nearest neighbor was 350 miles away—3sol «sandv, drought stricken, hungry miles—his only companions being a very wild tribe of blacks who nad been known to eat their own children in times of food scarcity. Trtwper Smith had proved himself to

be a man. and had, by kindness and I strict justice, endeared himself to everyone in his wide sphere of jurisdiction —white, black, and halfeaste.'. During the previous 18 Months a wolfram "show" had been discovered near; Canteen Creek, arid a rush of men of: all nationalities had set in. Lawless-; uess was about to break out, for the; men were not all'genuine'miners, but some were the spawn of the "rush" : camps of the world, and always "looking for trouble." Yet Smith had performed his duties faultlessly. "You know," he said to me, as he puffed his pipe beside "the fire. "You know, these dashed niggers turned up : trumps every time. Twelve of them made a sort of bodyguard. You'd have laughed. Twelve sons of the devil, stark naked, daubed with ochre and a few feathers, and carrying spears and boomerangs. Hut faithful! \ly word, there's faithfulness for you ! I could go anywhere. Those Dago chaps who wanted to clean me out daren't even spit. It wasn't so much the spears that stopped them, it was the knowledge that the whole country swarmed with natives who were going to see me through the affair. The scum either cleared out or settled down to serious mining. Some of them are my friends now." Then he told, in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone, tales of adventure that would not be believed outside the bush. The man was small of stature, but perfectly built, and the hard life had toughened every fibre of his compact body. No swagger, no pose, no self-consciousness or glorification. When he comes down for "a long cool swig" of civilisation, few people would realise that in their midst is a man who had upheld the traditions of the white race in the most difficult spot in Australia.