USC295

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for the plantations. A cutting 'round the hill along the high bank of Woongoolbver Creek was cut with axes and shovels. It is still in use. The Woongoolbver-Eurong road across the Island would be the best grade wise crossing of the Island, I think. I was chain and peg boy for Dad when he surveyed the cutting and would spend much of the days with the gang of workers putting the cutting in. I did a lot of chain work for Dad too when he was measuring up blocks for clearing etc.

In 1922 I think, just after we had gone from the Island, Dad went back for an inspection trip. I went with him. We stayed or camped in the house which was vacant at the time. Three young Forestry 'trainees, cadets?' whatever, visitedby names- Grenning, who was to become Director of Forests.

-Alan Trist, and another whose name I cannot recollect but who is the subject of this story.

Came the weekend, Sunday-Visitors would like to go out to Ocean Beach. Another, I cannot remember his name, was the Foreman at the Station, so a party was made up of: Grenning, Alan Trist, Mr.X, the Foreman and myself. After sorting out suitable horses and finding Mr.X could not ride for nuts, he was given the worst saddle and a horse called Bob. Bob was given against my wishes. I knew him of old but Foreman had the say of course.

We started out and of course Mr.X like all chum riders wanted to canter and kept egging me on to get ahead of the others. My horse was a good walker and we got some hundred yards ahead. As we came out of the scrub into the forest Mr.X could not contain himself any longer and his behaviour soon let Bob know his measure and off bolted Bob. Mr.X, I guess, thought, "This is what I have been waiting for." I knew what Bob was doing having witnessed it before. Bob always tried out his riders and bolted with all chums. All I could do was to move along keeping him in sight as to try and catch him would only lead to exciting Bob more anyway. Half a mile further and full pace by then, 'X's' hat blew off. Mr.X with all the confidence of a chum half turned and reached out as if to grab the hat and of course lost balance and started falling when about 45 angle downwards, a leaning bloodwood tree on the side of the track wrapped him round itself. Bob kept going. I came up and jumped off. Mr.X was lying with his head screwed round and making funny gurgling noises. I squatted down and got his head on my knees. ./5.

-5I must have somehow got him on his side, trying to straighten his neck. Presently the rest rode up. By this time he was calling for water. The foreman took off to the nearest water. When I come to think of it, it must have been a water vine. Anyway, by the time he got back, Mr.X was unconscious and they could not force his mouth open. 'Conference' -voted to leave one man with him and the rest of us to go to beach and get Wongs. This we did, returning to find 'X' still out and groaning. Another conference. I volunteered to ride in to the Station and get a couple of chaff bags and a tomahawk and promised not to tell anyone. This I will never understand, but kid-like I took off. I took two horses, rode one and led one and on reaching the Station, chaged saddles and rode the led horse back after getting tomahawk and bags. I guess I made the trip in record time. Mr.X was still out and groaned at least touch. The chaps cut a couple of saplings (box) and made a litter, rolled 'X' on and with much groaning and muttering, started off, two in front, one behind and me leading 4 horses. Each time they put the litter down or picked it up 'X' would groan painfully. The men changed positions often. It must have been heavy in loose sand. After they made the scub I rode ahead and cut a couple of Piccabean palms and got some cabbage which was appreciated as-long time,no eat. It was dark when we reached the eastern side of Gentle Annie and it was a great relief to see a mob from the Station was on the way to meet us. Fortunately someone had seen me come in amd go out and when it was thought we were running late, happened to mention to Dad who immediately put two and two together, grabbed some men and sent a horseman down to Jarvis to have a boat ready just in case. He got Alf Wright to yoke up waggon team and follow out.

Mr.X was loaded on waggon on mattress etc. and Alf took off for Woolgoolbver with another chap in with Mr.X. Poor Alf was never the same again. Mr.X screamed, swore and begged them to put him out of his misery. "Kill me please," at every bump. Jarvis was ready with the motorboat and Mr.X went to hospital, then to Brisbane. I am not sure but it was a long time before he regained consciousness. I think I heard, 3 months.

N.W.Jolly was Director of Forests, Brisbane in 1913 and must have handed over to McSwain in 1918 or '19, and was still there at the end of 1917.

McSwain handed over to Grenning; the same as mentioned above, Alan Trist? ./6.

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Fred Epps was sent to Imbil while Dad was still at Fraser Island and was later sent back to Dad. After we left Fraser Island, Epps was in charge, then, I think, Markwell. I don't know the later ones.

About 1921 a store was built beside the tramline just below the water tank - store and offices.

In 1922 a lot of old hands had gone. Harry Walker was still there but his family had moved to Maryborough. George Holmes, nursery-man and George Jackson had followed Dad to Imbil. Harry Walker always baked us a Damper when Dad and I or Dad returned to the Island. Harry was an expert and could turn out a very large damper perfectly every time. Dad was pretty good but I did see one damper he made, old 'Barney' wouldn't eat. I will admit the flour had been under the sea when we were wrecked going 'round Poyungan in the Buggy.

The burial tree on western edge of Carrol patch, about half a mile east of Walker's Camp was a big Turp. Satinay tree with a hollow some 4 - 5 feet from the ground and extending some feet up the trunk. The tree was only a shell and probably 4 - 5 feet diameter inside. The method of burial was to put the bones, previously buried in the ground until the flesh left, cleaned and put in a dillybag. (Not all bones were kept) of all dead but great men I believe, were all kept. The dilly was hung on a fork stick cut sifficiently long so as to keep the dilly clear of the ground when leaning against the wall. In this way many dillies could be placed in the same tree. This method was practical in many areas. One such tree used to stand below the railway line not over a quarter of a mile from where I am now sitting. Many other methods were used for tree burial - earth burial only taking a few small knuckle bones and carrying them for months until another relation died when they would be disposed of and new ones carried. The Western blacks on Georgina walked for many miles from Bedourie to Lake Nash and to my knowledge, dug a shallow grave in hard stony ridge area covered it with a heap of Gidgea branches. These branches would still be there when only traces were fragments of soft bone, bone dust and teeth.

H. Aldridge took cable to Eurong in 1868-9, built living quarters and a yard, planted Buffalo grass which was still growing in the vicinity in 1922, also 3 Coconut Palms which my brother and I used to climb for the nuts - now cut down. The road went past the yard and the palm trees and over the sand blow. A Fig Tree now marks one corner of the old yard.

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August and Henry Wilschefski bought a team of bullocks and waggon and all gear for £700 from Tom Berthelsen in 1905. It was paid for in 12 months (family records).

Dick Wilschefski had a team later. He married Ada Jarvis about 1917. They later went to Mundubbera as did some of the Jarvis's.

Wilschefski's leased part of south end of the Island and ran bullocks there in dry years. I would think somewhere in the '20's.

Herb Heisler had a team snigging and carting to tramline, McKenzies and Tallowood. Bill Jarvis had a team working in Eurong. When I remember, he also pulled all stumps on Forest Station clearing.

MEMORIES OF FRASER ISLAND Depuying Camp - 1913

Fred (Bill) Epps came galloping up the bank and over to the tent where Dad was getting a feed ready, jumped off his horse and said, "I've been bitten by a snake." "How, and where?" I got off and squatted down where we always have a drink. By this time he had lowered his strides and sure enough two punctures showed on his posterior. Dad to action - procured his razor (cut-throat) and getting Bill in position, made the necessary incision rubbed Condy's into it and at this juncture Buck Geoghan turned up and got the story. He showed concern. "You must not go to sleep. You have to keep moving all night." Poor Bill mooched round the fire. The other two after a while went off to bed leaving instructions to keep awake.

Next morning when they got up, Bill was sound asleep alongside the fire. On crossing the creek that day, Dad said, "Just where and how did it happen?" Bill got off his horse and squatted down and lept to his feet, bitten again. There were roars of laughter. I guess Bill had just got a new pair of spurs with long shanks and was not used to the extra length and sat on 'em.

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