DROVING ADVENTURES

Greymouth Evening Star, 18 April 1934, Page 10

DROVING ADVENTURES

Scaring the blacks We were camped in sandhill country, on the northern fringe of Sturt’s Great Stony, between Cooper’s Creek Find the Diamantina, (writes George Mclver, in life “Sydney Morning Herald”). We had 14,(100 sheep, and were out to form a. new sheep station on one of the tributaries of the Biamp.ntina. No one appeared ' to* know exactly where, and nd one seemed to care. Including the boss there were 16 men and I happened to be tho youngest man in the camp. My droving mate was Billy Sutton, better known as “little” Billy. He and myself had the midnight watch from 12 to 2 a.in. It was an ideal site for a camp—a low flat, bordered by gentle slopes, on which grew clumps of tall scattered brushwood. At that time the blacks were numerous, and mostly friendly; but. the country through which we were then passing had the reputation of being inhabited by a hostile tribe. It was said that more than one stockman and pioneer had disappeared in this territory, and never been heard of again. On watch, each man carried a loaded revolver; but. Billy always said that he could not use a revolver, so he carried a double-barrel gun. Billy was a small man, approaching middle age, and had spent practically the whole of his life in the far back country. .Of a kindly disposition, and bouyant, temperament, he was a favourite in the camp. Many a night he entertained his audience with stories of his adventures; but, as he was ever the hero of the piece, needless to say ho was not always take,n.seriously. Billy openly boasted that carrying a gun on his watch was with him quite a formal matter, and he never, had had any fear whatsoever of the blacks. There were, however, some in the camp, including myself, who were somewhat sceptical as to Billy’s heroism in this matter.

It had been arranged some weeks previously that if the blacks made a night attack, the man dr .men on watch were to fire shots as a signal of danger. It was an ideal night—the fascinating and seductive night of the tropics—with an intensely brilliant starlit sky. Watching was quite a matter of form, for the sheep had been travelled for months, and when not disturbed by dingoes, usually camped well. We had only two fires going —the one at the camp, and the other immediately opposite on the far side of the sheep. Each walked rbund his side of the sheep—met at the opposite fire—replenished it with dry brushwood, and then "Walked back towards the camp fire which also was attended to as required. Of course, Billy and myself always had a yarn when we met at the far fire.

FEELING OF DANGER “I did hot like much some of the blacks we saw today,” I remarked. Billy agreed, and said that they disappeared like magic among the sandhills whenever he tried to approach them. “Here we are standing in the blaze of the fire,” I continued. “Would it hot be an easy matter for unseen blacks to send, spears through our bodies from the darkness?” Billy readily concurred that there was danger, and .each resumed , his walk. As •I was going my round, I heard a rustling noise in a clump of brushwood, which might have been made by a

kangaroo or a. dingo—probably the former. 1 mentioned the matter to Billy when we again met at the far fire. He at once concluded that it was a blackfellow, and I could see that he was disturbed. He said that he had heard a, similar rustling noise in the Brushwood on his side, and ■ hat he felt sure he saw a blackfellow. I suggested to him that if he thought there were blacks prowling about, it might be a. good idea to fire a shot to scare them off, and that his gun would make a. louder report than my revolver. Billy agreed, pointed his gun upwards, and placed his finger on the trigger. “Both barrels while you’re at. it, Billy,” I remarked. The reports reverberated on the still midnight air. Billy now seemed agitated, and hurried away to the camp, but 1 only went near enough to see and hear what was happening. The camp was astir in an instant, and there was much confusion. Men were hurriedly scrambling for their boots and revolvers, and meanwhile Billy was being assailed with questions: “Where are they?” What direction are they coming from? Bid they throw any spears?” “Where is Mac?” “Is he safe?”

After listening for a while, peering into the darkness, and a. searching cross-examination of Billy, the men returned to their beds, and I went round the sheep alone, until it was time to call the next watch.

Ono of the most widely experienced in bushlore was a man hained Campbell —a, greybeard. Next morning, as I sat on my bag of belongings ah' breakfast, busy on my tin plate of chops and bread, with a pannikin of tea by my side, instinctively, that Campbell’s .gaze was steadfastly fixed on my physiogonomy; but I never once looked sin .his ■ direction. In reply to questions from' others, I mentioned that I had heard a rustling noise in the brushwood, but could not say what caused it. Meanwhile, the cross-examination of Billy was being continued; and when someone remarked that, he did not believe that he saw a blackfellow at all, Billy lost his temper and opened out on his hecklers with a flow of bush Billingsgate that staggered, even the veterans of camp life. During the next few days some of the greybeards of the camp warned me that if the incident] was intended as a joke, it was a very serious matter, and explained to me how they had known white men, through their own carelessness, lose their lives at the hands of the blacks. I was too young then to realise that in their generous way they were making allowance for my youth.

HARD GOING A few weeks later we were travelling through spinifex country, and still in the territory of the hostile tribe. The stiff spinifex grass, with its hard, black points, as sharp as needles, more than once pierced my feet through the uppers of my boots, and made walking difficult. Where long, it. was severe on the horses and sheep. Ono night a bare patch, which, in the remote past, might have been the bed of a small lake, was the site of the camp. As the depression was scarcely large enough to hold the sheep, the cart and camp paraphernalia had to i bo placed on the higher ground among the spinifex. As soon as I saw the site it occurred to me that here "was an opportunity for a break* in the monotony of things—a joke at the expense of the camp. I knew that I wars accepting the risk of a rough handling, but if it came to the worst, I

had an idea that my mates would see that 1 got fair play in defending myscll-. In a few days we would be out cf the spinifex country and beyond the territory of the hostile tiibe, bonce. I did not like to let the opportunity pass. it .so happened that Billy and myself again had tho midnight watch, and there were two fires only. When we met at the far fire, the conversation turned upon the last tragedy of the neighbourhood, when a white man was speared by the blacks ,at a waler-holo not far distant. The resuh of the discussion was that BiLy discharged both barrels in rapid succession. Neither of us went back to -ho camp, but we ventured near enough to hear some tall swearing., abare feet and hands were coming into contact with the spines of the spnufex. . ~ Next morning the camp was furies and beyond the threatening mood, no one blamed Billy, and no questions were put to cither of us. On going to breakfast, the first man I met was tho boss. He was sitting on a log and busilv engaged in extracting <1 thorn from his foot with a penknife, lie looked fiercely towards me, shook his clenched fist savagely at me; but said nothing, and went on with his creraticn. A few others were similarly engaged, and 1 noticed that one or two had a limp. A glance towards my mates was not reassuring. It was plain that I would receive no support from that direction. That morning, as I silently ate my breakfast, amid the scowls and frowns of my comrades. I kept wondering from whom tlio first challenge would come, and surmised it woujd be from someone with a sore foot, provided the wounds were not sufficiently severe to cause a limp. No challenge, however, came. Neither Billy nor myself had anything to say in reference to the firing ot the gun. The incident was allowed to drop, and in a few days the camp was as lighthearted as before. In after years, however, I have no doubt that most of them, like myself, had many a happy laugh over the scaring away of the imaginary blacks.