The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-12-07


other method equally effacacious is to point
at the intended victim bone prepared by a
native doctor. soaked in human blood and
dried over the smoke of certain wood, after
which soon the tribe knows that man no
more. There is no end to the superstitions
concerning Debil-debil-a European graft
upon aboriginal mythology
There spirits. too. who inhabit caves
and others that glide above from tree to
tree. Riding through the bush on a moon
light night, with the eerie shadows, the
monstrous shapes of vegetation, the ur-
canny cries and creepy mutterings of bird,
beast and reptile, any legend might seem
to have its foundation in reality. More
especially if the bush be gidya scrub in
drought. Then the gray. ghostly foliage
and black trunks rise from a bare white
ground on which the shadows look like
moving things. while a faint sickly odor
resembling that of a corpse comes from the
trees, for the gidya poisons the ground so
that only salt bush grows beneath it. /
know a road through such a gidya scrub,
beside which is a rude bush grave, and I
have heard the most matter of fact stock
men say that they didn't like riding along
that road on moonlight night.
The BUSH.
Found dead in the bushi How many a
nameless grave has been dug by passing
stockrider, into which have been put the
grisly remains of some poor wretch, who
has laid down under gum-tree and
breathed his last breath. Occasionally such
an one may be identified by his clothes. his
pocket-knife. a strap. or what not. may
be he has managed to carve his initials on
have left little means of telling who and
what he was. Lost in the bush" is pitt
full requiem-most pitiful when the victim
is child; fencers boy, perhaps, or the
hut-keeper's little girl Then all the station
hands turn out; the black crackers are set
to work. and sometimes the child is found
alive. but generally 1t is sleeping its last
sleep. Most gruesome fate. too, is it to be
thrown from horseback in the bush, and to
lie helpless. unable to move or stave off
the horrors stealthily approaching-the
hawks sv-ooping ever lower and nearer; the
| soldier-ants crawling on their prey. have
heard a man who was thrown and injured
while out on the run describe such slow
torture endured before the rescuers came.
Some Of these dead waits were turned out
of grog shanty when the cheque began to
run low. In old days, shepherds and stock
men would take their years cheque, give
it to the keeper of the shanty, and drink
doctored rum steadily, till the landlord said
there was no more money, or, afraid of the
law. would put the poor wretch upon his
horse, give h a bottle of spirits, and send
him into the bush, where delrium tremens
usually overlook him, and he might, or
might not escape doom.
Such tragedies happen again and again.
Many an Englishman-a college graduate,
the scapegrace Of some noble family. sent
as a last hope to the colonies-has gone
under thus. "a man dead in the bush!'
The news goes, brought in by shepherd or
black boy. The nearest magistrate is sum-
moned A hasty inquest follows, and
rude burying in a grave beneath gum
tree. Neither prayer book nor Bible is
forthcoming, and memory fails to recall
sacred words. But something must be said.
Once a hut-keeper produced tattered vol
ume of "Gulliver's Travels"-oh shade of
Dean Swift-and a paragraph gabbled
therefrom concluded the ceremonial. Pray
heaven that a soul thus ushered without
benefit of clergy across the Big Border may
meet with tenderer treatment than has
been accorded it here! Says Webster's
Duchess of Malfi,
81 know death hath ten thousand several
doors
For men to take their exits
The last Earl of Stafford was not the
only one in the old roaring days who lost
his kingdom by the knocking down of the
cheque," as bush slang puts it. He was a
strange, mad creature7-William Stafford
Perrot he called himself-one time superin-
tendent of a station, and afterward ostler
in an inn-I have heard my father tell the
story-who drank. gambled, joked and ad-
ventured, and had even then a wild career
behind him. He had been shipwrecked
originally on the South American coast,
had lived among wandering Indians, con-
veyed llamas to port, worked in a copper
mine, and learned the art of throwing the
macbeth was not safe to be with him
and his Mexican knife during a drinking
bout. Then hey for the diggins, when the
rush started for the Australian gold fields!
But Perrot was unlucky, and took to odd
trades. One day. squatter met him
waiting at the postoffice for the English
mail. His letters brought him unlocked
for news, and the crown prosecutor con-
frmed them. Perrot was ostler then, and
had BACKED the crown prosecutors boots.
The crown prosecutor told him that he was
Individually Earl of Stafford, gave him
cheque for e1OO. and took his passage
home; 910O is a big sum for even an earl,
shanty-keeper, and a crowd of thirsty
diggers to change into grog. But our new
peer managed to dispose of good part of
it, and before the ship sailed which was
to bear him to his kingdom, the last Earl
of Stafford had drunk himself to death
One might pirate for hours about the old
gruesome facts Of the bush Robbery
under arms, like the wild white men, the
cannibal blacks, and the tally of murdered
explorers. has become almost thing of
the past. There is romance and to spare
in the stories of the bushrangers Ned
Kelly was the last of the grand highway
men, and the rest seem common or gar
den miscreants in comparison. Gardiner,
however, who robbed the gold escort and
held New South Wales in terror for a time,
had a story behind his name, and il was
whispered, was released, after having been
sentenced TO thirty-two years penal serv-
itude, in consequence of influential pressure
brought to bear from England upon the
Governor and executive. Other small fry
of bushrangers contented themselves with
bailing up stations. frightening the women