HISTORICAL SKETCH OF QUEENSLAND

FRED WALKER

FRED WALKER, whom Howitt refers to in his history of Australian explorations as having been "already celebrated as an explorer, and for his friendly relations to the blacks," deserves particular mention. He was a complete master of bushcraft, and had traversed a very large extent of southeastern and western Queensland in the capacity of first commandant of the native police, a force which he had in fact originated. When stations were first formed on the Burnett, upper Dawson, and Maranoa, the squatters found that they were scarcely able to maintain their position against the persistent hostility of the blacks, Their cattle were speared, slashed with tomahawks, and hamstrung, and the herds were driven wild with fright, so that the difficulty which every pioneer had to overcome in "breaking the cattle to the run " was raised almost to an impossibility. Whole flocks of sheep were driven off, and so numerous were the murders of shepherds and stockmen that extravagant wages had to be offered to induce men to take service in these districts. Even head-stations were menaced occasionally. The squatters, in fact, saw ruin staring them in the face and the abandonment of their runs impending unless they could tame the growing audacity of the aborigines. The exact particulars of what ensued are obscured by the lapse of time. Occurrences of frontier interest speedily assume the vagueness of tradition. But it appears that Walker, who had with him a black boy or two belonging to the older settled districts of northern New South Wales, and was seeking employment as an overseer, suggested that he could easily induce additional natives to join him, and, by arming and mounting a troop, he would be able effectually to cope with the hostile black fellows of the "new country." Probably he and his couple of black boys had already shown a distinguished efficiency in some of the reprisals attempted by the settlers. Anyhow, the tradition goes that his suggestions were adopted, and he was shortly at the head of a band of New South Wales blacks, with whom, mounted and armed, he scoured the disturbed localities, receiving payment from a fund subscribed among the squatters. The efficaciousness of the native troopers, thus originated in a private band of free-lances, was speedily recognised, and a number of such squads was instituted by the government of New South Wales. Fred. Walker was appointed the first commandant, having tinder him a staff of lieutenants, each patrolling a specified district. From the time when this force was created, the balance in the contention between aborigines and squatters was definitely settled. The native police proved dreadfully efficient, and had no sooner got to work in earnest than its very name was a terror to the wild blacks. Previously, it was only by a chance that the enraged squatter and his hands could get at the offenders, who decimated their stock and massacred their lonely shepherds. The natives had plenty of cunning, and after a raid or a murder they generally lost no time in shifting their quarters. When pursued, they made for broken country or plunged into dense scrubs, where white men were impotent to overtake or even to follow them; but when the black troopers came upon the scene all this was altered. The savage nature of these human bloodhounds revelled in the chase; they pursued with eager enthusiasm and keen enjoyment. Once on the tracks, they followed them unfailingly at a gallop. Their quarry might escape by scattering in broken country, but no matter how rugged their refuge, if they kept together the troopers could follow wherever they went. If they plunged into a scrub, the troopers would pull up their horses, hand the reins to the lieutenant or white sergeant, and stripping off their uniforms, except the peaked cap with red band, they would carbine at the "ready," glide into the scrub, and with fierce delight writhe and wriggle their way wherever the fugitives had preceded them. The officer, halted outside, would watch the skirts of the scrub. Shots and cries, shouts and shrieks, would tell when the troopers had overtaken their prey. What went on in the dim recesses of these tangled thickets imagination can alone conceive. The regulations of the force strictly prohibited indiscriminate shooting. The corps was an instrument of the law, and limited by most definite obligations to regular legal process. The men were like other officers of the law —at liberty to act on emergency without warrant in arresting suspected persons; but in such cases they acted on their own individual responsibility. Ordinarily, they were expected merely to execute warrants. They might, of course, "disperse" assemblages of persons whom they had reason to suspect of being collected with evil intentions; but a warrant was their strong suit. There were always plenty of justices of the peace among the squatters, so that if an officer of the native police ever went patrolling without having provided himself with a warrant or two for the arrest of "one Bungaree," or "Milbong Jimmy," or "a male aboriginal supposed to bear the name of Barrabooriong," the omission was attributable to his own unwise negligence, and not to any scrupulous reluctance on the part of the magistrate to grant the legal instrument. Thus furnished with regular authority, it was still necessary to punctiliously adhere to ceremonial observances. But, of course, it was not always possible to impress the exact sequence of the processes upon the untrained minds of the native troopers themselves. Consequently, if it happened that they acquired a habit of shooting down a "myall" at sight, and then impressively commanding the corpse to "stand in the Kaween’s name," the fact was to be deplored, but was scarcely preventable. As for what else took place in the scrubs, it is merely necessary to remark that the lieutenants always made it a standing order that "gins" were not to be shot, but admittedly it was not always possible to distinguish sex at a glance. And if the dusky beauties were at times so smitten with the prowess of the troopers as to follow them out of the scrub after the shooting was over, human nature is the same in all ages and in all races. The conquest of the affections of a black "gin" by the trooper, who had just killed her husband before her eyes, is but a small variation from the successful wooing of Lady Anne, beside the bier of her father, by the humpbacked Richard Plantagenet. Humorous narratives used to circulate in the bachelors’ quarters on frontier stations a score of years ago respecting the perfect legality occasionally imparted to rather extensive proceedings against mobs of aboriginals by the squatter magistrates, who accompanied the executive in person, and on coming on a camp, or approaching a scrub which sheltered the offenders (and family), read the Riot Act to the scrub or the ridge overlooking the camp, and, no attention being paid to that proclamation, ordered the "troops" to act. The troopers of Commandant Fred. Walker adored him; consequently, Mr. Howitt was most fully justified in describing him as celebrated for " his friendly relations to the blacks."

At the time when he was placed in charge of the relief expedition, he had left the service several years. His party started on September 7th, 1861, from Bauhinia Downs on the Dawson River, and proceeded north-westerly via the headwaters of the Alice and the Thomson. Walker’s party, of course, comprised some of his friends —the New South Wales natives —and as the open downs stretched out on every hand, day after day, a Murrumbidgee black remarked that there was "no t’other side to this country." It is painful to record that Mr. Walker, so remarkable for his friendly relations with the blacks, was, during this expedition, peculiarly unfortunate among explorers in being compelled to defend his party. On October 30th he was brought into collision with the natives, and had the grief of killing twelve, besides wounding a great number. Just a week later he had again to fight, but the numbers of the slain are not recorded. This occurred a river which Walker named the Norman. On November 25th he arrived at its junction with the Flinders, and came upon tracks made by Burke. The Norman does not join the Flinders, but allowance must be made for imperfections and confusions in geographical nomenclature which was only in course of creation. On December 1st he had again a conflict with the blacks on the Leichhardt River, and just three months and twelve days after his departure from the Dawson he arrived at Captain Norman’s depot on the Albert River.

Scarcely taking time to "spell," he started off afresh to the south to follow the return tracks of Burke and Wills up the Flinders, but shortly turned off to the eastward, and made his way by the Gilbert Ranges and the Burdekin to Port Denison. M’Kinley also made for Port Denison, but by a different route. Landsborough, however, who had accomplished nothing, went off up the Flinders on the homeward track of Burke and his -companions, and succeeded in making his way through the continent from north to south, without, however, having at all succeeded in tracing the steps of Burke. Landsborough re-entered the settled country by the Victorian frontier, and was received in Melbourne with every token of public satisfaction.

THE JARDINES AT CAPE YORK.

THE exploits of the brothers Frank and Alexander Jardine in penetrating from the base to the apex of the Cape York Peninsula are the last which need be described in connection with interior exploration. Mr. John Jardine, father of these youths —for their ages when they undertook this expedition were but twenty-two and twenty years respectively —had been appointed police magistrate to found the settlement at Somerset, Cape York. Mr. Jardine had filled a similar position at Rockhampton from the time of the Canoona rush, hereafter referred to. His sons were bush-bred and masters of bushcraft. No man could stick to a buck jumping horse or break a colt better than the Jardines. They could track like black boys and swim like fishes; with revolver or rifle they were equally handy. Conducted by such a pair, success seemed assured for any expedition. Mr. Jardine, sen., proceeded to his post by sea. His sons resolved to take a mob of cattle overland and form a station on the mainland facing Albany Island, where the government establishment was to be created. They broke from the frontier at Carpentaria Downs the Einasligh Creek, which was known to be a head of some river flowing into the Gulf, but which river was an open question; it is now known to be a head of the Gilbert. The party consisted of the brothers Jardine, Mr. Richardson (a surveyor), a Mr. Scrutton, and two other whites, with four black boys. For riding and packing, they had forty-one horses and one mule. Despite the bushmanship and resolution of the explorers, the expedition proved most perilous, and barely escaped being disastrous. Frightful country enveloped them as they pushed towards the western coast. On one occasion it required the utmost exertion of six men to drive the cattle three and a half miles in five hours. The blacks dogged their steps, and repeatedly ambushed the brothers when they were pushing ahead alone to find a route or a camp. During one of their absences, the grass about the camp caught fire, and the bulk of their provisions were destroyed; some ammunition was saved, Mr. Scrutton snatching canisters of powder from the flames while the solder was actually melting with the heat. Once the blacks assailed the camp. The brothers had just started, and were recalled, to find a score of savages "corroborreeing" in front of the camp, working up their courage. They had artfully placed themselves so that the rising sun shone at their backs, and so dazzled the white men that they did not perceive the delivery of a flight of spears till the missives whistled among them, fortunately without harm. The rifles replied with deadly effect, and the encounter was over. At the Mitchell River, however, the explorers had to sustain a more serious assault and fight a pitched battle. Seventy or eighty warriors attacked them with vigour, and supported their fire with determination, but breech-loading rifles more than compensated for the disparity of numbers. The spears fell thick and close; one lodged in the ground between the feet of Alexander Jardine. But the white men were cool and deliberate, and did not waste a shot by random firing. They expended fifty-nine rounds. Thirty blacks remained on the field of battle, and a number of wounded escaped. The live stock of the expedition rapidly dwindled —the cattle got away from the camp at night in small mobs, and the horses strayed in search of water. Blacks drove the stragglers frantic with pursuit and spear wounds, and their recovery became impossible. Some horses owing to their eating of poisonous weeds, others tormented by thirst drank the waters of tidal creeks, more salt than fresh, and died, or went mad and could not be caught. The last three hundred miles of the journey had to be effected on foot. Once the blacks repeated the episode of "Birnam Wood" by essaying to stalk the explorers, covering their approach by carrying bushes in front of them. Nevertheless, the adventurers pushed on, and at length emerged at Albany, brown and half-naked, but without the loss of a man. Nearly all their horses had perished, and about half their herd of cattle had been lost on the way. Here the history of interior exploration may be said to conclude, yet it has been but an outline. The formal expeditions which have been recounted were supplemented by thousands of excursions in search of country by the pioneer squatters, and later by the adventurous prospector for gold; of but few of these is any record preserved. Flocks and herds followed close in the wake of these pioneer explorers. By the year 1863, stations had been formed beyond Mitchell’s Victoria River (the Barcoo) and Kennedy’s Thomson River to the west, and the Plains of Promise were grazed upon by flocks of sheep to the very shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria. At the present time there is not, perhaps, a square mile of good grazing country within the boundaries of Queensland, save in the Cape York Peninsula, that is not occupied under pastoral lease. The plains and downs of the western and northwestern districts rendered detail exploration easy; but in the northern peninsula the rugged character of the country has presented serious obstacles. It has been the task of the miner rather than of the grazier to traverse the ravines and scrubs of that difficult country. The expeditions of Hann, of Hodgkinson, and of Jack —all despatched by government in the interests of the miner and the digger —have thrown much light upon the nature of that country, and the individual enterprises of such prospectors as Mulligan and the lonely wanderer Christie Palmerston have preceded or supplemented the official discoveries with others of equal import; but these belong rather to the department of topography than to that of general exploration, and more particular reference may be postponed until the localities are separately described.

THE FATE OF LEICHHARDT.

BEFORE closing the history of Queensland exploration, a few words must be added respecting Leichhardt. His fate remains the great mystery of the continent. Public interest in it continued for many years subsequent to his disappearance; and, in fact, as long, as any considerable tract of the interior remained a blank on the maps, his old friends and the people generally were very sensitive to any reports that seemed to throw light on his existence or his death. As is usual under such conditions, there were not lacking cranks and impostors seeking notoriety or attempting to gain some advantage by playing upon the anxiety and’ humane feeling of the public.

In the year 1866, a fellow named Hume, alias Cox —one of the class which affects frontier life —was sentenced to imprisonment for bushranging. Hume seems to have been a bushranger of the mildest species. His exploit was swaggering into the barroom of a bush public house, flourishing a revolver, and intimidating the landlord into supplying him with free drinks, a bottle or two of grog, and a shirt which took his fancy. He pretended to be the advance scout of a strong gang, who, he said, were hidden close at hand, and he referred to himself as the "Black Prince." He was quickly and easily captured, and, finding penal servitude monotonous, he concocted a very clever story. His romance was to the effect that about the year 1852 he was wandering in search of gold through what is now the Northern Territory. There he made friends with the native tribes, amongst whom at length he discovered a white man; this was no other than Classan, the relative of Leichhardt, who was second in command of the lost explorer’s final expedition. He was now detained by the blacks, who jealously watched him and rendered communication by Hume difficult, and even dangerous. Nevertheless, Classan entrusted Hume with an MS. containing an account of the expedition; this Hume lost. But he was uneasy in his mind, he was anxious to leave prison and go in quest of Classan. Some credence was given to this story. Hume went north on his quest, and nothing more was heard of him till the middle of 1874 when he arrived from the north by steamer in Brisbane, and narrated to the local press a continuation of his romance. He had gone to the Roper River, whence he had penetrated alone to the head of Sturt’s Creek and there found Classan, still with the blacks and now much aged, with long white hair and beard. As Classan could speak no English, and Hume no German, verbal communication was impossible. Therefore, Hume started for a station of the overland telegraph line, then in course of construction, procured writing materials, and plunged afresh into the bush. He had some difficulty in reaching his man, as the blacks had moved off with him to the head of the Fitzroy River; but there he found him, and received from him Leichhardt’s diary of seventy-two foolscap pages, together with a statement in his own writing of sixty pages. With the inevitable inconsistency of a liar of talent, Hume professed to have Classan’s account in his head, although he had alleged that they could not understand one another. The narrative did credit to his imaginative faculty. This was the supposititious Classan’s tale as recounted by Hume, alias Cox, alias the "Black Prince": —Leichhardt and his party were camped near the head of the Victoria River, when Mr. Classan went out one morning in search of water for the next stage. Returning late in the day, he found that the camp was deserted with the exception that Leichhardt remained. The leader was lying, on the ground in an almost insensible condition. Tended by Classan, he revived, and for two days there was every appearance of his speedy recovery. During this time he told Classan that the men had mutinied during his absence; they wanted to, turn back. Leichhardt insisted on continuing his exploration. They thereupon used violence towards him, and went off, taking with them the thirteen horses belonging to the party and every article of the equipment. After the second day a change took place in Leichhardt’s condition. He gradually sank, and on the fifth day after the mutiny he died in Classan’s arms. Classan was then taken possession of in a friendly sort of way by the tribe of natives to whom the territory belonged, who placed the body of Leichhardt in a tree, according to their fashion of disposing of the dead. From what Classan subsequently learned, it seemed that Hentig, the third in rank of the party, was forced to accompany the mutineers, as he was the only person able to take the necessary course by the instruments. He was speared by the natives two days later, and the rest of the men, making their way towards the settled part of South Australia, were killed at Eyre’s Creek. Such was the story within a story. Hume alleged also that he had several times attempted to carry off Classan on horseback, but the proposed elopement was frustrated by the jealous vigilance of the natives, an had nearly cost him his life. His treasures —the journal of Leichhardt and Classan’s MS —he declined to permit to be seen at Brisbane he reserved them for delivery to the Government of New South Wales. But when he arrived in Sydney, and his saddlebags were opened, an extraordinary thing was brought to light. They were empty, or contained only some litter and rubbish. Hume loudly declared that their contents must have been surreptitiously removed at Cooktown by some unprincipled person, who, hearing his story, had coveted his treasure. So earnest was he that he still found believers, and means were provided for him to organise a party to go to the rescue of Classan. He was next heard of in a quarter quite unexpected and unaccountable. He was pushing out from the Bulloo on the south-western extremity of Queensland.

He had with him two companions, and was well horsed and armed. The three proceeded to Nockatunga on the Wilson, seventy miles from the Bulloo. The season was one of drought, but the localities where water existed were well known. A fresh start was made from Nockatunga with the intention of reaching Cooper’s Creek, a stage of eighty miles. They never reached Cooper’s Creek. Experienced bushman as he undoubtedly was, Hume lost his way; for four days he led his companions through the scorching bush without water; then they separated, and each sought for himself. One found water within five miles; but he so gorged himself with it that he was rendered incapable of exertion till next morning, and, when he arrived with full water-bag at the spot where he had parted from his companions, they were no longer there; he then returned to the station for succour. Searchers were sent out and found the body of Hume beside that of his horse, which he had killed in order to drink its blood. The corpse of the other man was afterwards discovered in another direction.

But the final act in the Leichhardt drama was not destined to be a tragedy; a burlesque was still to come. Some years later, one Skuthorpe, a frontier bushman and runholder, announced that he had discovered relies of Leichhardt —a compass and other sundries. He was immediately the one object of interest throughout Australia; but he began to be mysterious. He would not allow his pack to be examined even by the police magistrate at the frontier township to which he had carried it. Incredulity began to be expressed; doubts were voiced as to Mr. Skuthorpe’s bona fides. He took umbrage, and declared that if that was the way in which his services were to be received the world should never have the benefit of his discovery. He withdrew from observation, pursued by the jeers and taunts of an incredulous community, and of Mr. Skuthorpe and his relics nothing material has since been heard.

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