.
HISTORY:
- THE TASMANIAN BUSHMEN -
(page 4)
.

 
.
Tales of the Old Tasmanian Bushmen

    The track cutters were an integral part of Tasmanian bush lore, and the Fletcher family were without peer.  Their dynasty began in 1870 with Charles Fletcher, followed by his sons and then their sons.  Latter-day track cutter Milford Fletcher followed in the footsteps of his grandfather.  He was responsible for keeping clear of encroaching bush the many bush tracks so relied upon by the various government departments and the bush walking fraternity.  It was hard, exacting work, necessitating building and replacing bridges and cordwood tracks, often in unforgiving circumstances deep in wilderness areas.  These men kept the tracks open into strategically important areas of the island.  Most of this work is done today by the National Parks Service.

.
Tasmanian bushman, circa late 1800s - early 1900s
.
 Tasmanian bushman, circa late 1800s - early 1900s, near Ringarooma.
    Tom Billett of Smithton, in northwestern Tasmania, was born around 1910 and spent his whole life in and around the Smithton area.  Ever versatile, he worked in various occupations during his long life, including: farmer, council worker, road builder, bullock driver and undertaker.  Tom was a first-rate bushman and storyteller; his treasure trove of yarns best spun around a campfire in the bush or over a drink at the local pub.  In later life, he became something of a celebrity driving his ancient 1927 Chevrolet utility around his home town.  Perhaps Tom's favourite and best known tale was that of a tiger who came scavenging around his house at night.  Determined to catch the animal, he set a heavyweight snare in a paddock not far from the house and finally trapped it.  However that was not the end of the story; in its desperate efforts to escape the snare, the tiger wrapped itself up in a barbed wire fence and Tom stepped in to try and release it.  Things turned decidedly nasty when he too became tangled up in the fence with the angry tiger.  Fortunately, the tiger broke its way from the wire and bolted, leaving Tom a bit worse for wear but free of its snapping jaws.  This is the abbreviated version; the story in its entirety made for a fascinating tale.

    The French family are reputed to have trapped numerous tigers on their property at Tiger Hill beyond Buckland.

.
    James Dunbabin lived most of his life at Bream Creek on the Tasman Peninsula, and had many tales to tell passed on to him by his father, F. Dunbabin who caught twenty tigers on their Bream Creek property.  The country surrounding their property was well cleared grazing land surrounded on the fringes by densely wooded tiers, providing perfect cover for the tigers.

    Turk Porteus was a fine old northwest Tasmanian bushman who had first-hand knowledge of the Tasmanian tiger.  He learnt to identify their tracks, and was able to skillfully track them through the bush.  In 1986, Turk came face to face with a tiger as he cleared a bush track near the Arthur-Franklin rivers junction, not far from his beachside home at Arthur River.  The tiger was barely twenty metres away, and lingered for many seconds before moving away.  His extensive knowledge of the animal told Turk that the tiger had young at foot; he decided to track it through the bush, and it wasn't long before he picked up their tracks.  At the time, his sighting raised great interest because it happened only ten kilometres away from the much heralded 1982 Hans Naarding sighting at Togari.

.
bushmen at camp
.
Camping bushmen boiling the billy beside their tent.  Source: State Library of Tasmania, PH30-1-6044.

    The Advocate newspaper of the 6th November 1926 (p. 26) published the following bushmens' tale - "Hyenas Visit the Camp":

    "Late in the evening of the first day out, we camped at the 19-Mile Creek (near the Hampshire Hills).  In the gathering darkness we did not observe that the spot we had chosen was really a deserted camp of the plate laying gang of the Emu Bay and Mt. Bischoff railway.  Broken crockery and bottles with the usual inordinate litter of tinware were everywhere under our feet.  We got a good fire going, and soon the billy boiled, while the rashers of bacon were sizzling in the frying pan, and all four of us heartily enjoyed our supper.  Mr. T. Hilder camped with the teams, he having travelled from Burnie on horseback.  We had a big tent pitched across the long pole of my bullock dray and all four occupied it.  Just when the senses were drowsed with sleep uncanny noises were heard a great rattling among the tinware and broken crockery, with now and again loud growling going on.  Billy Charles was the first to speak and made the astounding declaration that it was the growl of a hyena.  Poor Sam Barker was positively scared and was all shivered with apprehension.  Mr. T. Hilder was somewhat sceptical and, as I lay nearest to the tent opening he said: "look outside Dick and see what?s up".  I cautiously drew back the tent flap and crept partly out.  I caught my breath with a gasp, for there not ten feet away, was a monstrous striped hyena crouched down with its forefeet clutching a big bone, and its fearful teeth crunching the bone into fragments.  It was not dismayed by my presence.  Looking up at me it snarled viciously, but made no attempt to seize hold of me.  As I hurriedly retreated into the tent I saw a second smaller hyena join his fellow.  Of course, we were all much concerned as to what course to pursue.  Sleep would be impossible with such murderous creatures so close, even if they did not attack us.  Billy Charles carried the customary long bullock whip with silk cracker and declared his intention to give the hyena a taste of it.  So taking off the silk cracker he put on one made of strong hemp, then cautiously mounted the tent pole, with good light from a hurricane lamp which in no way disturbed the hyena crunching the bone.  Unfortunately, Billy's long whip failed to reach the hyena.  At every crack it snarled more savagely, and leaving its bone, it threatened attack.  Its eyes blazed and it teeth glistened and snapped continuously. Billy feared not, and moving along the pole he got closer and eventually caught Mr. Hyena a severe stroke which caused the animal to roll over, then recover, and with a deep growl it turned tail and fled.  Neither of the beasts came close up again that night, but we could hear them and sleep would not come".

    One of the most notable southern Tasmanian bushmen was Ernie Bond, a giant of a man who almost single-handedly carved out an empire in the depths of the wild and untamed South West Wilderness.  He called his paradise "Gordon Vale", reputedly building his sprawling homestead from one huge swamp gum cut down and hewed on site.  Renowned for his genial hospitality to all who passed his way, Bond ran sheep and milking cows, produced his own honey and grew his own produce in his veritable "Garden of Eden".  Strawberries and raspberries, potatoes and root vegetables, various fruit trees; Ernie grew the lot.  His homestead was blessed by a huge open fireplace where many a frozen visitor was brought back to life after trekking through from Adamsfield and Maydena, and where winter skins could be dried around the walls of his hut.  Out the back was the bakery where huge loaves of bread were freshly baked and washed down with Ernie's potent honey-mead; a super-charged drop of the nectar beverage was guaranteed to leave you feeling somewhat worse for wear.

    Located in the Vale of Rasellas, Gordonvale lay at the foot of the Dennison Range and adjacent to the Gordon River.  This beautiful vale of the Gordon had not had a permanent resident since it was first discovered in 1828 by two escaped convicts from Macquarrie Harbour penal settlement, James Goodwin and Charles Connelly.  When Ernie Bond's tenure finished in the 1950s, Gordonvale then becoming a favourite destination for bushwalkers.  Today it is no more, and having succumbed to the ravages of the severe climate, it has all but disappeared, being reduced to piles of rotting timber and rusting iron.  And as for Tasmanian tigers?  Yes, they were there too, for Ernie confided that he had sighted them in the surrounding countryside on occasion, and if eyewitness accounts are to be believed, still are to this day!

.
.
References
.
back to: The Tasmanian Bushmen (page 3) return to the section's introduction forward to: The Tasmanian Bushmen (page 5)


Search the Thylacine Museum
Site Map
Website copyright © C. Campbell's NATURAL WORLDS.
Photographs and other illustrations (where indicated) are © C. Campbell's NATURAL WORLDS.
Other photos and images are © their respective owners.