R.B Plowman has also written about the lonely grave in his book 'The Man from Oodnadatta': 'Before the Bend comes into view there is a steady climb to the crest of a big sandhill. From its summit the traveller looks down on the buildings and yards of what is at once an hotel, a post office, a store, and the headquarters of a large cattle station. ‘Almost at the summit of the sandhill and right beside the track, a tiny fenced enclosure catches the eye and rivets the attention. Within the little enclosure is a grave, the consummation of a bush tragedy. ‘On a blazing hot summer’s day a foot traveller (they are seldom called swagmen in Central Australia) had started from Old Crown Point store to walk to Horseshoe Bend. His only supply of water he carried in a canvas water-bag. What actually happened will never be known – probably an accident to his water-bag. Instead of sticking closely to the track, which was the surest way of coming to water, his footprints afterwards showed that he had left the road to hunt for water. Finding none, he staggered back to the track, and followed it until he feel exhausted. Crawling to a bush for shade, he had stripped off his clothes, as those who perish from thirst usually do, and had died beside the road. There, almost at the very crest of the sandhill, from which he could have seen the buildings which would surely have inspired him to new strength and new effort, he perished and was buried.’ (Plowman, 41) Reference: R. Plowman, 'The Man from Oodnadatta', Angus & Robertson, Sydney, 1933
Distance and isolation meant that many bush folk generally relied on the kindness and generosity of their neighbours in times of strife. While there is little formal material available on this aspect of bush culture, there is a great deal of anecodotal evidence that points to the spirit of the bush law. • In his book detailing his travels through Central Oz, Robert Bruce Plowman gives many account of bush kindliness. As John Flynn’s first patrol padre for an area covering what was probably the largest parish in the world – the country between Oodnadata in SA and Tennant Creek in NT – Plowman came into contact with many, many Central Australians. The Man from Oodnadatta and Camel Pads both recall some of the many colourful people he met along the way. In The Man, Plowman says of bush folk:
‘There is nothing servile about the bushmen of Inland Australia. In their independence they pay no homage to priest or parsons, to government officials or distinguished travellers because of the positions they hold. The stranger must first prove himself a man. Should he do so they accept him into the fellowship of bushmen.
…
‘They have their faults, these self-reliant bushmen whose daily work is often a hazard and whose recreations are few and simple. Their faults are always obvious, however, and more inclined to harm themselves than others. But theft and meanness, deceit and lying, and the contemptible sins of lesser men are rarely found in them; and their code of honour is almost unassailable.
‘Shy in respect to their personal affairs, and quick to resent unwarranted intrusion, they nevertheless give wholehearted confidence to those they trust. To the padre they showed at first reserve; sometimes veiled hostility. They expected that he would pry into their private affairs, which in some cases, through youthful follies, they desired to keep inviolate. When they found that he was not inquisitive in such matters, that he didn’t at once talk religion to them, they thawed. But when they found the new parson riding on their cattle camps, shoeing their horses, helping them to sink their wells, sitting up at night with their sick mates, and in other ways trying to be of use in a man’s way, they gave him their confidence and their friendship.’ (Plowman, 216-17) Judy Robinson tells the following story about Winnecke, a mining town north in the Hartz Range: ‘When typhoid swept through the community in 1903, a young bride gave birth only days before she herself succumbed to the fever. A young 18 year olf packhorse mailman took the infant girl and delivered her to relatives in Oodnadatta. With all the canned Nestle’s Milk the field could provide, he took the infant in a sugar-bag draped across his chest and tended it while performing he mailman duties across 400 miles of desert. Twice he was able to bathe the child at a homestead and bed it down properly to sleep. He had two riding horses and five packhorses which required hobbling out to feed at night and bringing in to saddle and load each morning. His hands were full but he delivered the baby safely at Oodnadatta without any ill effects save that it had grown used to sleeping on horseback.’(Robinson, 15) • Then there is the story of Liz Nicker who became a self taught nurse out of necessity. ‘Because there were few white women in the Australian inland at that time, Liz’s good common-sense and self-taught nursing skills were frequently called upon. She was often away from home delivering babies or tending the sick. Sometimes the message would arrive by ‘yabber stick’, a letter carried in a cleft stick by Aboriginal courier. She would pack her bags and go alone by buggy sometimes distances of a hundred miles or so. If it was possible, one of her sons would accompany her, leaving Clara to attend to any emergencies at home. Sometimes her absences were brief but there were occasions when she was required for weeks at a time.’ (Robinson, 31)
REFERENCES: R.Plowman, The Man from Oodnadatta, ... Robinson, Bushman of the Red Heart, Central Queensland University Press, 1999
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