GOLD RUSH DAYS

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIII, Issue 165, 15 July 1942, Page 4

GOLD RUSH DAYS

"ROAD TO GUNDAGAI"

AUSTRALIAN MEMORIAL

(By W. S. LOWE)

The paragraph in last evening s Star revived memories of the road to Gundagai, to-day an arterial highway bearing a constant stream of high-powered cars which must bewilder the ghosts of forgotten prospectors and bushrangers whose haunt it was. Gundagai is the hallway house in the 600-mile journey by road from Melbourne to Sydney. Tjie dusty, rather forlorn township is the successor to the bustling "wideopen" town of gold rush days. To-day the gold comes in tne pockets of travellers. No doubt the several hotels extract a good deal moie from that source than most prospectors did from the creeks. For most motorists the township is an over-night stop. I can readily recall the hot bath after an all-day drive from Sydney. The dog sits on the tucker-box nine miles from Gundagai, rather than five, as the song has it. That little inaccuracy is an interesting slip. The monument is a stopping place for tourists and some enterprising citizen has turned it into a source of income since "Dad and Dave" turned on the spotlight of publicity. The six-foot pile of grey granite which forms the pedestal is surmounted by a rather more than life-size sculptured fox terrier seated alertly on a tucker-box. The whole is well done, attractive and imposing. Vandals at Work When I stopped to inspect, the monument was guarded by an ugly netting fence ana a nondescript postcard seller. The former's necessity was apparent in repairs to the terrier's ear and to the initials of the Hon. J. A. Lyons, whose name appears on the base of the monument. He was Prime Minister of Australia at the time of the unveiling of the monument and participated in the ceremony. The postcard seller, his wares bearing an excellent photograph of the monument and a hideous collection of Gundagai "scenes" arranged on a concertina-like paper ribbon, gave us, by way of discount, a verbal record of the monument's history. Perhaps "verbal" is an exaggerated description—it was a mere toneless rattle of connected words without meaning or interest for the speaker.

Remembering Mark Twain, I threw out a question. The rattle faltered to a stop, was punctuated by a blank, uncomprehending stare and began again at the commencement, to my unkind joy! Translated, the tale has real interest. • In the pioneering mining days the immortalised terrier was the staunch friend and constant companion of a grizzled old prospector and daily mounted guard on his master s battered old tucker-box while its owner ranged the creeks in search of '-colours. At lunchtime one day the prospector found his guard had given up the struggle against old age, but his bodv lay still upon the tucker-box, which had , ls clla rge for so long. Old Faithful wfls buried in the tUckerbox and the story passed into legend.

It was a happy inspiration which enshrined the legend in stone when th& town a decade ago, sought to honour its pioneers. The monument is erected on the traditional site of the story s origin. It has remained '% modern |sed creations of Steel Rudd to spread the tale.