Nmp Event 35295

ex:suttor-river

ex:frederick-johnstone

ex:frederick-murray

ex:capita-simon

ex:pompey-3

ex:tiger-1

ex:tom-brown

null

ex:eden-1872

147.120117

147.120117

-20.997233

-20.997233

1134

1872

I was surprised one night soon after I had turned in, to hear old Willie come to the back of our house and call Arthur, who sung out to me to join them. I felt certain that something was in the wind, and true enough our best shepherd had been murdered by the blacks that evening at the Fifteen-mile station. Poor fellow, he was kneeling down kneading a damper on a sheet of bark—we used it for his coffin—when they stole upon him, beat his head into a pulp with their nulla-nullahs, and then, after stripping the body and taking out the kidney fat, had thrown it on the fire. Removing the white man's fat is an invariable custom amongst all the tribes, for they believe that on rubbing themselves over with it, they gain the corpse's strength in addition to their own. They had taken away the firearms and burnt the hut, in doing which they had rather caught a Tartar, for there was a pound canister of powder inside, which exploding, killed one and must have given the others a proper fright, if nothing worse, for they had levanted without taking their dead comrade with them. … I started for the police camp—which by this time was permanently fixed on our run, half-way between the head and the cattle station—and old Willie went to bed, as he would have to get out to the Fifteen-mile by daylight, to look to the sheep until another shepherd arrived. It was past midnight when I got to the barracks, and having kicked lustily at the door, was let in by Martin, the officer in command, to whom I explained the cause of my untimely visit in very few words. “Where did it happen?” “Fifteen-mile, Pyramid Creek.” “Who found the body?” “Old Willie arrived within an hour, and ran their tracks down to the water-hole, and on to the scrub to the northward.” “Then we'll get 'em by sundown. Here, Pompey; Capiter, Tiger, rouse out here, you fellows!” cried Martin, shying his boots at the sleeping forms round the fire, whilst he struggled into a pair of tight breeches. … “Pompey, Tom Brown, stay here, other fellows round up yarroman, be off,” and away four of them dived into the darkness, with their bridles over their arms, whilst Pompey and Tom Brown filled the cartouche boxes with ammunition, which Martin served out, saw that hobbles, &c., were on the saddles, and put on the billies for breakfast.” (Eden 1872:152–154)

35295

Attack on Europeans/others - unnamed shepherd on Mt McConnell station at the Fifteen mile (end of 1865?)

“Where did it happen?” “Fifteen-mile, Pyramid Creek.”

Arbitrary location half way along Pyramid Ck, since the precise location of the 15 Mile outstation is unknown

Pastoral run

Attack on Europeans/others

No contemporary accounts in the newspapers. “Martin” is Frederick Murray (stationed at the Suttor River camp by 1866). Eden also mentions trooper Jemmy. There was a reprisal for this event, but the location is unknown (other than on the Mt McConnell run), when the Edens and the NMP pursue people to a dense patch of scrub: "All lethargy thrown off now, for the keen-eared troopers had caught the faint report of a distant carbine; another and another sound louder as we gallop furiously on, no thought of broken knees or collar bones now, one hand, on the bridle, the other working the revolver case round, and feeling again and again that it is unbuttoned and ready, whilst the spurs are jammed home every stride; the troopers fairly dropping the reins on their horses' necks, and using both hands to get their carbines out of the buckets, for the blacks have broken cover now, and if we get between them and the stony ridges for which they are making, we have trapped them. No mercy now, this is the fifth shepherd in as many weeks this mob has murdered. Crack, crack, from the scrub and one fellow rolls over, and another falling on one knee tries to rise in vain. Hold up, good horse, three more strides and we are amongst them. … It took us three days' more hard work, and on scanty fare, to recover the poor fellow's blankets, shirt, &c., and to cry quits with the murderers. The country was stony and barren, and the tracking powers of the troopers most beautifully illustrated. After all, they had not taken the carbine with them, but had thrown it into the water-hole adjacent to the hut, so that it was within half a dozen paces of old Willie whilst he was instructing us to recover it." (Eden 1872:157–158)

1

Hut burnt and firearms stolen and thrown into waterhole

Eden 1872 My Wife and I in Queensland

ex:aboriginal-people

First hand account from station owner, although its adventure narrative style suggests that it is embellished and/or facts changes

ex:unnamed-shepherd

null

ex:mt-mcconnell

1865

ex:yangga

ex:south-kennedy

null

null