Outback Penguin

by Stuart Kells

  It was boiling hot and smoke was pouring out of the oil breather cap. I looked at the water in the radiator and found that it was only half full and was boiling quite merrily. After an examination I surmised that the water pump was not working properly. I daren’t go on with the engine in that condition and decided to walk back to Monash and try and obtain half a kerosene tin full of water. I walked about two miles – it seemed about ten – when I discovered a large puddle on the side of the track and I thought that I might be able to fill the radiator from it. I jogged back again to the car and drove her, very slowly, to the pool. With the aid of a glass I emptied the puddle and slowly, painfully slowly, proceeded, or rather resumed, my journey. After I had gone about five miles I saw another large puddle, and as the first one had not filled the radiator I stopped and got to work with the glass again. Just then it started to rain. Also thunder and lightning was heard and seen (respectively, of course).

  The time was about 2 o’clock. I had just succeeded in filling the radiator when I saw the lights of a car approaching. The car soon reached us and stopped. It was Bob and the boss, who had come to look for us. Sister was transferred to Bob’s car and off they went. The boss and I jogged along in the ‘lame duck’. The boss said that Mrs Withers was afraid to be left in the house alone so he had taken her to Mrs Beers’, so that is where we landed sometime after. We had a cup of tea and a couple of cakes, then started on the last stage of the journey.

  When I crawled into bed it was just 4 o’clock. I was up at 6.30am and did a day’s work with the horses. In the evening I took the car to Bob’s and we examined the pump but could not find anything wrong. We examined everything else that might have caused the water to boil away, but came to no satisfactory conclusion. I did not get to bed until 12am, but six hours is better than two and a half. The next evening, Thursday, soon after we had finished tea, the telephone bell rang and on answering it I heard Bill Adams speaking.

  ‘Car wanted at once, outside police station. Been a robbery at the hotel. Might have to chase thieves.’

  So off I dashed. The car not being in A1 condition did not appear to me to be sufficient cause to prevent me from missing an adventure. Outside the police station I heard the full story. Bill Adams left his car, a single-seater Lizzie, in the street while he was doing some business. When he came back an hour afterwards the car was missing. Seeing a policeman standing at the corner, he asked him if he had seen anybody go away in, or with, his car. The policeman said ‘Follow me’ and walked into the hotel. Here Bill saw the Sergeant talking with the manager. There had been a robbery about half an hour before, the thieves getting away with £60.

  The time of the robbery and the disappearance of Bill’s car coincided, so off the Sergeant and Bill went to the police station and, from there, rang up all the neighbouring towns and settlements within about 100 miles and gave orders that if any car answering to the description of Bill’s was to pass it was to be stopped. Then they rang me up, and when I arrived Bill and a policeman were waiting. In they jumped and off they went. Our orders were to proceed towards Morgan and we hoped to pick up some information on the way that would set us on the track of the thieves. We stopped every car and asked everyone we saw if they had seen a car answering to a description of Bill’s. And at Monash we heard that a single-seater Ford had passed through just over an hour before. The first car we stopped out of Monash was Bob’s; he had been out hunting rabbits with dogs and a spotlight. (As soon as a rabbit is sighted the car is brought to a standstill and the spotlight is directed on the poor bunny. At the same time the dogs, which ride on the running board, are released. Whichever way the rabbit turns he is followed by a strong beam of light. Sometimes he escapes and sometimes the dogs catch him. They say it is good sport, but I have not yet tried it.)

  When I stopped, I noticed that the water in the radiator was boiling so I thought it would be best to continue the chase in Bob’s car. This I suggested and the suggestion was thought to be a good one. Bob knows the road, is an experienced night driver and his car was in perfect order. So Tom Bath, a friend who was in Bob’s car, drove back the Moon and the policeman, Bill and I jumped into his car and ‘off to go again’.

  At Overland Corner, which we reached at 10 o’clock, we heard that a car had passed by forty minutes previously. Off we went, over bad roads at thirty to thirty-five m.p.h. Bill had been given (lent) an automatic by the Sergeant, the policeman had an automatic and also handcuffs, and Bob had a shotgun at the back of the car. Bill kept on relating what he was going to do with the thieves when he caught them. I was in charge of the spotlight and whenever I saw anything at all suspicious I switched it on.

  (Bed time again; to be continued as soon as possible.)

  *

  21 October 1924

  MINUTES forming ENCLOSURE to Boy’s File No. 385

  FORWARDED to the. Hon. the Minister of Immigration Farm Apprentice R.G.W. Lane, who arrived here in October, 1922, and has been apprenticed to Mr A.B. Withers, of Renmark, has now asked for his release from the Scheme, in order that he may join Mr Withers in the ownership of a Moon Car which will trade between Adelaide and Renmark. When not employed on the Car, Lane will be engaged on Mr Withers’ Orchard.

  In asking for his freedom from the Scheme, the lad desires that the balance of his money might be paid over to him forthwith, in order to enable him and Mr Withers to complete the purchase of the Car.

  I have had considerable correspondence over this matter, and have interviewed the parties concerned. Mr Cudmore, Solicitor, who has been interested in Lane since his arrival in the State, has kindly looked into the case during his recent visit to Renmark, and has drawn up a draft agreement which he states he will complete on his return to Adelaide, and he recommends that Lane’s request for release be granted to enable him to enter into this employment with Mr Withers.

  Under the circumstances, I therefore request the Hon. the Minister’s approval for Lane to be released from the Scheme, and for the balance of his money to be paid over to him as he requests.

  Victor Ryan

  Director

  *

  Saturday, 25 October 1924

  We stopped at Taylorville, where there is a post office, and the policeman and Bill went into it and rang up the Sergeant at Renmark to find out if there were any further developments. The Sergeant’s reply was rather amusing. He said that the car we were chasing was still in Renmark. Bill had left it outside Fiffer’s who, by the way, is the best man in Renmark for repairing springs.

  Bill had wanted one of his springs seen to, and he had told Fiffer that he would leave the car outside his shed one day during the week. Fiffer came back from doing a job and saw Bill’s car outside his shed, so he drove it in and went off to tea. Bill’s language on hearing that he had been chasing the wrong car was really dreadful.

  Taylorville is about fifty-six miles from Renmark. We left there at 12.30am, dropped Bill and the policeman in Renmark, and I went back with Bob to his house. He said he was going to make himself a cup of tea and asked me to join him. As Tom Bath had arranged to leave our car at Bob’s, I thought I might as well. Mrs Beers heard us coming, got up, lit the fire and before I knew what I was doing I was having a good meal. Four fried eggs, several slices of bread and several cups of tea.

  I crawled into bed at 4am, after having wound the alarm up full; it is set to go off at 6 o’clock. I never hard it, but at 7am I woke up and thought I heard somebody moving about in the kitchen and, on getting up, found that breakfast was ready. We had fried eggs for breakfast, of which I had a couple.

  To date, no more has been heard of the thieves. This is how I seem to live now, all one long rush. Since my last entry I have been to Adelaide and back. Three passengers down and none back. Two hundred miles by oneself is a bit lonely. Must stop now, must rush off again.

  Thursday, 30 October 1924

  I have had a very busy day and a very busy evening. The time is now 10.30pm. I feel I cannot go to bed unless I repeat a
quotation from Spenser – a quotation whose truth I fully realize: ‘Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life, does greatly please.’

  In the original, the spelling, I believe, was slightly different. The old English spelling being ‘toyle’, ‘stormie’, ‘warre’. Is not a portion of this quotation to be seen on the ‘home for aged people’ at Long Ashton?

  Anyhow, I realize that ‘sleep after toil’ does greatly please.

  Friday, 31 October 1924

  It was strange, last night, how that quotation got into my head. I had had a very tiring day and had not fully realized until then how greatly ‘sleep after toil’ did really please. It seems obvious that ‘sleep after toil’, ‘port after stormy seas’, ‘ease after war’ should please. Whether ‘death after life’ does greatly ‘please’ is a matter for consideration. And as we have, as far as I know, no authentic record of a man dying and coming back to life and giving a full description of what ‘death’ was like, I will let the matter drop.

  But last night it suddenly struck me how ‘greatly’ it does please. How enjoyable it is to rest when one is really tired. I have been tired many, many times and have thoroughly enjoyed rest, but I had never thought anything about it until last night and as I had no one to tell about it, no friend to agree with me how true Spenser’s quotation was, I made a note of it.

  Had I more time for writing I should be able to give many more details in any narratives I may set down here. I have in my mind the all night ‘chase’ I had a fortnight ago. When I was writing an account of that adventure I was very pushed for time or I should have written three or four more pages on it. ‘You are speeding along a plain when suddenly the earth drops away beneath you, down, ten, twenty, fifty, 100 feet, a slight rise then down again. The river on your left, cliffs on your right; you are at Overland Corner.’ That is the kind of stuff I could write about, if only I had the time. When we pulled up outside the only dwelling at Overland Corner that night, at about 10 o’clock, the place looked deserted. The policeman walked up to the door and gave it a sharp rap. No answer. Another rap, or series of raps. A timid voice: ‘Who’s there?’ In a deep voice, ‘The Police’. ‘Oh, er, what do you want?’ And so on.

  I hope to go down to Adelaide again on Sunday, and if there are two loads – which means Bob going down as well – we shall go by a new track, or at least new to me. There are dozens of tracks by which one can go to Adelaide, but all the places are only names to me. It will take some time for me to learn all the tracks. Still, I am pleased I know one track. I am rather proud of the achievement. I went down with Bob, came back with Bill Adams in the new car and, a few days after, I drove down with two passengers, neither of whom knew the track.

  People who had lived in Renmark fifteen years said that they had not experienced a worse day than the day we came through. To my knowledge, only one other car came through and that started early in the morning and so missed the bad part of the day. People in Barmera will always remember it as the ‘Day of the Cyclone’, for on that day houses were razed to the ground (several ‘wood and iron’ houses and one stone house), water tanks were blown away, and dozens of sheds and outhouses simply vanished. Several people had narrow escapes from death, four or five people just leaving their houses before they collapsed. The cyclone visited Barmera soon after 6 o’clock in the evening. No other town was visited by it, but hundreds of trees were blown down.

  On the Morgan track, in one place, I remember there was a tree blown right across the track. On the near left was the tree. On the near right was the stump. The tree had been properly blown down. On the far left was ground which looked very ‘boggy’ and the ground looked the same on the far right. It is terribly risky to go off the track after a heavy rain, for you stand a good chance of being bogged. I can well remember the tree, it was a fairly old pine. I dropped down into bottom gear and just managed to crawl between the tree and the stump, but there were not many inches to spare.

  The only track I know to Adelaide is through Morgan, Eudunda, Kapunda and Gawler. After leaving Renmark the first settlement one strikes is Monash. You are driving through a winding track when suddenly you see a splash of the freshest green in the distance. This is Monash. Then you travel through the ‘Pine Country’ on to a plain and drop down to Overland Corner. After you drop, you have to rise and rise you do, with a vengeance. First of all a short, sharp pinch, then a couple of nasty turns, then a gradual rise lasting a couple of miles. The next twenty miles is through very interesting country. Then you strike Taylorville. This consists of one decent house, two or three small houses and a post office. Next place, Morgan. But before you get there you pass the Morgan plains, where a little judicious speeding may be safely indulged in. Pass through Morgan, sharp to the left. The track runs parallel with the railway line for about twenty miles and you pass Eba, Mount Mary and Bower. At Sutherlands you turn to the left, over the railway line, then to the right. The track soon winds away to the left. About eight miles from Sutherlands is Eudunda. This is where I usually stop for dinner. From Eudunda to Kapunda is the worst part of the whole trip, the surface of the track being something terrible. Five miles an hour is fast for some parts of it. The land around Kapunda is very undulating and the scenery in places is very pretty.

  After leaving Kapunda the track is very good until Tarlee is reached. From here onwards is a somewhat bumpy (potholes etc.) metal road. The next town you pass through is by far the largest. In fact, it boasts of a tramway service. I have only seen one tram there and I believe that is all the service consists of. It is drawn by a horse. This place is Gawler. The road is very bad from here to within twelve miles from Adelaide, where a macadam road in excellent condition is struck. They intend to extend the macadam as far as Gawler but – it all takes time.

  On the good road one may again indulge in a little speeding; circumstances permitting, of course. Soon Adelaide is reached. By this route the mileage is not far off 200. In fact, if one has passengers to deliver the mileage will be well over the 200 mark.

  Saturday, 8 November 1924

  Now I must close. In this last entry, which I fear will have to be fairly short, I bid farewell to you, who art termed by many, my diary.

  The last time I went to Adelaide – last Sunday – I went through the Gorge. What a lovely trip it is. And that is the way I expect you, my friend, will go tomorrow. I shall wrap you up, and tomorrow morning I shall hand you over to Bob Beer’s with careful instructions that you are to be posted in Adelaide on Monday. On Thursday you sail for England. Ah, my dear friend, I wish we could change places. You to stay in Renmark and I to go home in time for Christmas. But – as I once saw on a menu – ‘Don’t think of things wot is, but think of things wot’s pleasant’.

  As it is already 9pm I’m afraid I must close. I wish you bon voyage and trust you will have a warm welcome. I, known in England as R.G. Williams and in Australia as Dick Lane, close this book. But the name I shall use in closing is neither of the above mentioned ones. For shall not the last word be a name. It is just, plain, Dick.

  *

  18th November 1924

  Mr C.R. Cudmore,

  Solicitor

  BROOKMAN’S BUILDINGS, ADELAIDE

  Sir,

  Confirming telephonic conversation of this morning, I now enclose the Memo of Agreement dated 18th October, 1924, between Mr A.B. Withers and Mr R.G. Lane, of Renmark.

  The amount of £50 was paid over to Lane on 23rd October, to enable him to meet the instalment then due, the Hon. the Minister of Immigration having released him from the Scheme.

  Yours faithfully,

  [R]

  Director

  *

  Saturday, 28 December 1924

  Once again, after many days, I take up my pen. Since I last wrote you much has happened, many things have occurred which I shall never forget and I have visited places that before were but names to me. My views on Australia and Australians have changed, my outlook on life has changed, my
ambitions have changed. In fact, I am quite a changed person, but only internally. These changes only affect my mind, and give me much to think of and ponder over. I think I am still the same old Dick to look at, the same old Dick as far as appearances go. But then I never seem to change, the works of time are gradual and very deceptive. I have been longing to do some writing and now that I have actually made a start, I don’t quite know what to say.

  One thing that gives me great pleasure in this writing is that what I write now you will not read for roughly a year, twelve solid months, and a terrible lot can happen in that time. If I wrote you a letter and told you that I was ‘fed up’ with fruit growing and felt inclined to ‘chuck it up’, you would worry and wonder what I was going to do next, whereas if I write here and say that I am seriously thinking of trying something else, or rather trying some other means of making a livelihood, most likely something will have eventuated before you read this. So, when I write here I feel safe and I say all manner of things that I would not say or mention in an ordinary letter.

  I think that the greatest event that has occurred since I last wrote, halfway through November, has been my meeting a class of people I had never met before. And for want of a better name I will call this class ‘Educated Australians’. Before, I only knew the workers and ‘Uneducated Australians’ and, of course, besides these I had met the educated and uneducated English people residing in Australia. As a class I like and greatly admire the Educated Australians, and as individuals I like them equally well. One may admire an individual and hate the class he belongs to, and again one may admire a certain class of people and yet not admire the individuals of which that class is comprised. But in my case I admire the class and the individuals equally well.