Alexander Vindex Vennard (1884-1947), collected yarns, ballads and anecdotes about bush life, which were published for about twenty-five years in a regular column 'On the Track' for the "North Queensland Register" and "Townsville Daily Bulletin". He adopted the pseudonym 'Bill Bowyang' after the straps buckled over trousers below the knees.
Disclaimer
The Shortcut
By "Bill Bowyang."
Written in 1922.
Disclaimer
The Shortcut
By "Bill Bowyang."
Written in 1922.
I took the short cut to Simpson's selection, where I had been told a wandering bagman could always get a decent meal, and a liberal hand-out to carry him further along the road. After following a bridle-track for about two miles, I came upon a small paling fence, with the accumulation of years on its bark roof, and the skeletons of a dead orchard forming a background. By the door of the hut a long-haired, long-whiskered, grey Rip Van Winkle of a man was seated on an upturned kerosene tin. I inquired the way to Simpson's.
"Huh!" he muttered, "yer got a long way to go. See that grave fenced in over there? Well, follow the track that leads from there and it will bring you to the white road. Follow that for two miles and you'll come to Simpson's. But there's no hurry. Sit down and have a yarn. Don't often see anybody around here; they all seem to keep away from the place."
"Nothing much for them to see, I suppose," I said.
"Huh!" he replied flashing a look of scorn at me, "nothing to see — now just look 'ere young feller-me-lad, this is one of the most interesting places in Australia. I've lived 'ere forty years this comin' Easter and I know something about it. D'yer sen that big gum down there in the hollow? Well, it was there that me old mate, Sam Cooney, cut his throat with a razor, just after he had returned from town in the horrors. They sell awful bad grog in the township sometimes. Poor old Sam used ter say they put terbacca, cyanide, an' bluestone in it to give it some sting. Sam's buried on the left-hand side of the tree, and sometimes when I cannot sleep I go down and yarn to him. Yer know I think old Sam's spirit hangs around that tree and can hear what I say. Well, d'yer see that clump of ti-trees away to the right over there? That's where the blacks killed two prospectors years ago. The niggers were just cuttin' out the poor fellows' kidney fat when the police came on the spot. Cripes! there was some fun then. They shot about a dozen blacks, and yer can see some of their bones lying there yet. Then just over there where that flamin' crow is arguing the point with himself, Jimmy Grogan's horse threw him against a tree and broke his neck. Over there near that old well there's the grave of some poor bloke who was planted before I came 'ere. Yer mightn't believe me, but some nights yer can hear horrid groans comin' out of that grave. Then over there — What are yer going away already? Can't understand you fellers. Always seem to be in a terrible hurry to get away from 'ere. Well, good-day, mate, but look out for deaf adders in the long grass. The feller who had this place before me was bitten by a snake, an' that's his grave over there where the track starts."
I had not proceeded far from this strange bush cemetery when the old chap called out.
"Hey, mate, I got that razor 'ere that old Sam cut his throat with. Would yer like to see it?"
Sources:
"Huh!" he muttered, "yer got a long way to go. See that grave fenced in over there? Well, follow the track that leads from there and it will bring you to the white road. Follow that for two miles and you'll come to Simpson's. But there's no hurry. Sit down and have a yarn. Don't often see anybody around here; they all seem to keep away from the place."
"Nothing much for them to see, I suppose," I said.
"Huh!" he replied flashing a look of scorn at me, "nothing to see — now just look 'ere young feller-me-lad, this is one of the most interesting places in Australia. I've lived 'ere forty years this comin' Easter and I know something about it. D'yer sen that big gum down there in the hollow? Well, it was there that me old mate, Sam Cooney, cut his throat with a razor, just after he had returned from town in the horrors. They sell awful bad grog in the township sometimes. Poor old Sam used ter say they put terbacca, cyanide, an' bluestone in it to give it some sting. Sam's buried on the left-hand side of the tree, and sometimes when I cannot sleep I go down and yarn to him. Yer know I think old Sam's spirit hangs around that tree and can hear what I say. Well, d'yer see that clump of ti-trees away to the right over there? That's where the blacks killed two prospectors years ago. The niggers were just cuttin' out the poor fellows' kidney fat when the police came on the spot. Cripes! there was some fun then. They shot about a dozen blacks, and yer can see some of their bones lying there yet. Then just over there where that flamin' crow is arguing the point with himself, Jimmy Grogan's horse threw him against a tree and broke his neck. Over there near that old well there's the grave of some poor bloke who was planted before I came 'ere. Yer mightn't believe me, but some nights yer can hear horrid groans comin' out of that grave. Then over there — What are yer going away already? Can't understand you fellers. Always seem to be in a terrible hurry to get away from 'ere. Well, good-day, mate, but look out for deaf adders in the long grass. The feller who had this place before me was bitten by a snake, an' that's his grave over there where the track starts."
I had not proceeded far from this strange bush cemetery when the old chap called out.
"Hey, mate, I got that razor 'ere that old Sam cut his throat with. Would yer like to see it?"
Sources:
- On the Track. (1922, February 2). Townsville Daily Bulletin (Qld. : 1907 - 1954), p. 2.
- Homeward Bound, 1864, Samuel Thomas Gill; Courtesy State Library Victoria
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