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| Flowers |
The night was still, the Milky Way glistened and sparkled but there was a chill in the air. The dingoes were restless.
Those living in the house, Merri, Flowers and Napoleon, repeatedly rose from the comfort of their arm chairs to go out and check the fence lines. The family’s investigation revealed nothing unusual and everyone settled for the night.
At midnight, savage snarls and spitting of a large animal rent the air. Merri whimpered at the door.
A dingo screeched. Someone screamed, “It’s got Flowers". Clad only in my night dress and grabbing a torch, Berenice rushed out into the night to save poor Flowers. Her son Ken grabbed a shot gun and thundered behind her.
Vicious snarling echoed from the other side of the fence. Something was savagely attacking Flowers. Merri joined her. Both courageously tried to fight off the intruder.
Who or what was it and why was it attacking the Dingoes?
A frenzy of fury resulted in a loud crash against the fence. Then, quiet, as the animal disappeared into the long grass.
Flashing the torch, Berenice first checked Flowers and Merri were unharmed. Looking around she was amazed to see an indignant Koala preparing for another onslaught.
Crash, as he flung himself at the fence screaming once again.
Despite living in the bush for thirty years they had no idea how to handle the situation. For some inexplicable reason the koala seemed intent on getting into the dingo yards to attack them. Berenice and Ken stayed calm and carefully guided him up a nearby tree.
When he seemed content and not intending to continue his attacks everyone retired back to bed. Peace reigned. Checking the situation early the next morning they discovered him back on the ground, running along the fence and still trying to get to the dingoes.
The National Parks and Wildlife Service were contacted and guaranteed to collect the trespasser the same day. There was just one condition, he had to be confined.
By now he was back up his tree, staring down nonchalantly at the steady stream of admiring neighbours gathering to see him.
They were told koalas are easy to handle; if you know how. One neighbour brought a collection of gum leaves for his breakfast, and he appeared content.
Another neighbour, reading from a book on caring for koalas, assured Ken he would not attack. Not taking any risks, and determined to catch him without injury, Ken bound his arms with bags, reached up into the tree, then gently lifted him down.
The Koala had not read the book. He suddenly sprang into action, flipped right over and sunk all fours into Kens arms, all the time screaming furiously. Everyone watching collapsed into a heap laughing. Ken finally herded the visitor into a large dog crate where he settled down to finish his gum leaves in peace. During the afternoon a helicopter arrived to collect the koala.
For all the drama and minor injuries, Berenice felt proud to have had this unique native animal residing in her trees but knew his welfare could only be assured in the hands of those who understood the animal.
He was probably a victim of progress. At the time the M5 was being cut through local bushland, and many native animals had their habitat destroyed, or at the least, disturbed.
The Walters and their neighbours had seen small mobs of wallabies making their appearance and were delighted to catch glimpses of the graceful members of our native fauna. The previous dingo breeding season, they had even heard the far off call of a wild Dingo from the distant gorges.
But with miles of bushland around them, she wondered why that Koala wanted so desperately to get into the house yard. Out of loneliness? Or did he seek the company of another animal he recognised as native?
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| Dan Morgan stick up |
There are many individual famous bushrangers in Australia but, the Shire of Wollondilly certainly had it fair share of rogues.
Wollondilly is 1½ hours south west of Sydney by today’s modern transport. Its 2,560 square kilometres stretches from Bargo in the south, Appin and Menangle in the east, Warragamba in the north and includes the Nattai wilderness, Burragorang Valley and Yerranderie.
But why were so many bushrangers active in this area? I’ll tell you after I describe the goings on of the 1800s.
Bargo Brush
The area known as Bargo Brush was first explored by white man in 1798. It incorporates the area from Appin to Bargo. (The last remaining stand of this thick scrub can be seen at Wirrimbirra Sanctuary today.) The scrub was dense, and roads often impassable due to their poor quality especially after bad weather. Journeys were long, tedious and fraught with danger.
The district became notorious for escaped convicts who turned to ‘bailing up’ coaches and even more dark and murderous deeds. In fact, it was the most notorious section of road in the colony. Even Ben Hall and his gang (John Gilbert and John Dunn) were active in the district for a period.
Burragorang Valley
Burragorang Valley was settled early in the history of the colony. It became a desired holiday destination and well known for its guesthouses but suffered for many years from escaped convicts in the area.
Because of the nature of the bush in the valley, bushrangers and cattle thieves were able to hide whole herds of cattle for several months. The bushrangers would not only rob people travelling along the road but also hold up the houses in the district.
The Valley is said to have inspired Rolf Boldrewood’s Robbery Under Arms.
Razorback
The road over Razorback Range, also part of the Great South Rd, was difficult to traverse leaving many travellers weary and vulnerable to horrific murders, unexplained accidents and notorious bushrangers of the worst kind. The tales are augmented with the ghost stories of the victims.
Appin
‘Mad’ Dan Morgan (William John Owen) was born near Appin. His nickname ‘Mad Dan’ or ‘Mad Dog’ came from his violent mood swings. He was a thief and a murderer.
Warragamba
Jack Donahue is one of Australia’s most famous bushrangers. He was a transported convict who escaped twice from the clutches of the law. He finally met his end when shot resisting arrest near Warragamba. His deeds and capture are remembered in the song “The Wild Colonial Boy”,
Wollongong to Campbelltown
A mail coach running from Wollongong to Campbelltown seemed immune, according to an 1866 Sydney Mail report, until it was struck twice in a fortnight that year. What is interesting about the report is not the mention of the hold up, but the coach was unique in being unaffected by the activity until that time.
So why were there so many bushrangers in the district?
In Sydney Town rumours abounded about a land of plenty beyond the settlement. The convicts living in misery, and desperate for freedom, readily believed the myths. There were two stories doing the rounds.
The first was of a passage overland to China and a journey of just 240 kilometres. The second story was of a free white indigenous settlement where life was easy and plentiful.
To dispel these myths, two expeditions were initiated called “expeditions of anti-discovery”. The first in 1798 by Governor Hunter to explore the Bargo Brush district. Although Hunter was not attempting to make any discoveries even with his superiors he pretended they were.
With the same mindset in 1802 Governor King sent a similar expedition into the Burragorang Valley and Blue Mountains
The explorations did nothing to dispel the myths that prevailed well into the 1820s and 1830s.
As seen in a dog's diary:
7 am - Oh boy! A walk! My favourite!
8 am - Oh boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9 am - Oh boy! The kids! My favourite!
Noon - Oh boy! The yard! My favourite!
2 pm - Oh boy! A car ride! My favourite!
3 pm - Oh boy! The kids! My favourite!
4 pm - Oh boy! Playing ball! My favourite!
6 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favourite!
7 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favourite!
8 pm - Oh boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9 pm - Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favourite!
11 pm - Oh boy! Sleeping in my people's bed! My favourite!
As seen in a cat's diary
Day 183 of my captivity... My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from clawing their furniture.
Tomorrow I will eat another houseplant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded - must try this at the top of the stairs.
To disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favourite chair. I must remember to try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear in their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Hmmm, that did not work according to plan.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard my confinement was due to my powers of inducing "allergies." I must learn what this is and how I may use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit.
The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I have patience, I can wait, it is only a matter of time.
Author unknown
***
Pamela King Amazon Author Page
Pamela King Goodreads Author Page
Pamela King is a member of the Wollondilly FAW and is a most competent writer and mentor... she was also successful in having a story selected in last year's Seniors Short Stories publication.
I would like to mention a book Pamela has published called Angel with Drumsticks. Now, this is a very unusual but true story which you might say shook the foundations of the Vatican. For anyone interested in music, rock, and the Vatican it would be a most interesting read.
It was told to the author by Angelo Ferrari, drummer, singer and founder of the Italian Beat rock group Angel and the Brains. It's about how the band was formed and its music ambitions and tells the true story about the aftermath of La Messa Dei Giovani.
La Messa was conceived to fulfil the desires of Vatican II to make the Catholic Church more appealing to young people but, because of resulting bitter and vicious arguments within the Church and the Media, the Vatican took a course of action that was inconsiderate, hurtful and cold hearted.
There are a number of interesting black and white photographs in the book, of the band, of the Vatican, Rome, and the Pope.
This is a story I did not know and found it very compelling and very revealing.
The band's first record contract was with Ariel. To promote this new concept of a Rock Mass, priests travelled around Rome putting up posters at most of the Cathedrals and Churches and there were articles and photos in many newspapers.
Huge crowds turned up for this special rock mass, people of all ages, for and against.
Despite much complaint for and against, the band decided on a Rock Mass world tour.
The story relates how these young musicians who had responded to an invitation from the Church to perform the first rock Mass in Rome had their careers destroyed by the Vatican.
But I am leaving the guts of the story for readers ... it's a very unusual story that Pam has written.
Reviewed by Trevar Langlands, State President, Fellowship of Australian Writers
Pamela
King Amazon Author Page
Pamela
King Goodreads Author Page
Wailing sirens pierced her young ears. Thick black smoke began to replace the hot flames that engulfed the house.
Matching her flood of tears, water ran like a torrent down the street, cooling hot embers. Her chest heaved with every sob. Where was her puppy?
An alien form with mask, helmet and breathing tank emerged from the blacken house. It strode purposely in her direction. She trembled, burying her head against her mother’s own shaking form.
The strange creature removed its mask and smiled a kind smile. Opening its arms, a small fluffy bundled was revealed.
New tears formed grey tracks down her small, ash tarnished face. Tears of joy. This was not a monster. It was a fireman. It was her hero who had saved her puppy.
