USC295_0003

MOONBI 41, Page 16
This happened especially when mum would give
her a roast duck or swan to take home. She
couldn't keep it until she got home, she used to eat
it on the way. She would come back next day and
when asked if Kennyand Frank liked the duck she
would say: " Oh Missy, missy, too nice missy. I just
had a little bit; Lordy, just a little bit - no more - no
more."

One punishment meted out by the missionary was
to tie the black to be punished to a tree, then put a
length of fuse starting at his feet and laid out
several feet. The far end would be lighted. One
can imagine the terror it could cause. The blacks
had seen dynamite used to blow out stumps, but
would at that time not understand the mechanism.
Gindy said: " Him bin see same close up die, him
eyes cranky like." No doubt some would die or be
jibbering idiots afterwards.
When we moved to Woongoolbver, another
to us. One missionary's daughter who was a
teacher at the missionary school, ran off with one
of the pupils. They eloped in a dingy belonging to
the mission. After being caught they were married
by the missionary and then cut adrift from white
society.

This chap was an educated boy, so of course, they
used to say once they were educated they
were no good. However, he was a smart worker.
He was able to do any type of work that a white man
could do, and do it well. He was a bitter man and a
cruel husband by white man's standards. He gave
his wife a pretty rough time. They lived on
Woongoolbva Creek about a mile and a half from
the forest station where he worked.
Not long after this in 1917, this chap was moved
from the island because he threatend white
women. He became very aggressive. All
missionary trained blacks were unreliable from my
experience, in the west and north. Maybe they
are better now. I think he eventually moved to
Palm Island but his wife and four children
remained behind on Fraser Island and in the
district.
While this chap lived on the Island. Jerry Jerome
came to live there. He was an aboriginal boxer
who went to Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne.
They pensioned him off and he settled on Fraser
Island. A little hut was built for him. He promptly
chopped it up for firewood and built himself a
gunya. He worked for the forestry and Dad used to
give him a job every now and then, particularly
when he wanted Cypress seed picked. Jerry was
very good at that. He picked the seed on contract
at so much a pound. He was a very lazy worker
otherwise.
Old Nugget was a happy, outgoing, very fine
specimen of humanity. He worked for the
teamsters in early days, looking after the bullocks.
There was very little feed for stock and they
couldn't work them for long periods. After a few
weeks work they would let the bullocks go to
forage for themselves. They would go to the ocean
beach. Some would go north and some south. As
Nugget was always on the move, he could tell the
teamsters where every bullock was. He knew every
one of them.
Nugget was a loner. To the best of my knowledge
he never had a wife. He lived on the ocean beach in
a little hut. He only visited the mainland from time
to time, to spend the money earned from the
teamsters. He would come back from the
mainland looking sick and miserable. He would
ask Mum for a bit of flour, tea and sugar and off out
to the beach he would go to live on wongs and be
fat and shiny the next time we saw him.
Nugget would spend hours writing characters or
sand and showing us kids where and how to get
wongs at low tide and how to catch and cook fish
he also showed us how to catch yabbies in the
creeks with sharpened sticks. Later at Imbil we
used to frond of lawyer vine trimmed off with one
barb that acted as a hook. Blacks there used this
method and Dad used a little bait instead of his
fingernail.
Teddy Brown, I think, but won't swear was the
coloured sand artist who could make anything in a
bottle. Dad engaged him often to tail horses. He
was an artist with a fishing line and could dive
overboard and catch a turle [sic] and bring it to the
surface very easily. So could Banjo and many
more. Teddy was one of the blacks who buried
cases of pickles etc from the "MARLOO", on a trip
to Indian Head and Middle Rock. Some time after
the wreck we had Teddy, and he promised he
would get us plenty of pickles. However he dug for
hours in many places with no luck, so we didn't
have pickles but we did have plenty of fish and
oysters.
Although we always talked of going to Indian
Head, it was Middle Rock we always camped at and
would be very careful on arrival to be quiet and not
show ourselves to the sea until low tide. Otherwise
fish in the Aquarium would be frightened out to
sea. A rock hole, I think it is called the Aquarium
now, had only a narrow channel leading out of it.
By sneaking round and planting our bodies in the
channel, all the fish in the pool would be trapped.
That was where I first saw blacks spearing fish:
Snapper, Squire, Emperor, Bream etc. Nugget and
Teddy Brown would be in their element.
Dad always took a pronged spear, but our efforts
were on the breadline, while the piles of fish would
mount along from Teddy Brown and Nugget.
They showed great glee each time we would miss.
Oysters we would catch up with and hold our own!
(see MOONBI 42 for more of Rollo's
reminiscences.)

[Image on right of this information]

MOONBI -
A JOURNAL OF
FRASER ISLAND
Subscription $5.00 p.a.
Available from FIDO
Ltd P.O.Box 420
Maryborough 4650
(Picture: Man starting a camp fire)