Tales Told by an Early Pioneer

Lake County Mail, Issue 12, 13 August 1947, Page 12

Tales Told by an Early Pioneer

Before laying- down my pen, I would fain record some of the scenes of an amusing nature which occurred after the diggings had fairly broken out on the shores of the Wakaiipu Lake, although these have nothing whatever to do : w!th the settlement of the district. They will, however, give the reader some idea of the strange and somewhat rowdy state of society which flourished during the first rush, and before any law or order had been instituted.

The banks of the Arrow River having been the first ground to be “ pegged out,” it was necessary for those who were working there, and those who were desirous of going to the home station for supplies, to cross the Shotover Rivei on their way. This, at times, was a dangerous undertaking, and a boat was built by Mr Rees for use as a ferry on this river, which boat he sold to a, man who made a small charge for taking passengers across.

Before the boat was placed on the river, Mitchell, when riding across to Hayes Lake one from 'the home station,' found a man disconsolately seated on a stone in the middle of tile river, unable to go either forward or back, so strong was the current. Mitchell rode in to him and told him to catch hold of his stirrup leather, and with assistance he contrived to reach terra firma, when, turning to his rescuer, the man, who up to this time had not said a word, said, in the broadest of Irish brogues, “ You might think I come from the County of Kerry, but I come from the County of Cork.” “ I don’t care a button where you come from,” said Mitchell, “ but it you are wise I would recommend you not to get into the middle of the Shotover River again,” and rode off.

On one occasion Mr Rees, when riding across the Frankton Flat, came across a digger busily engaged in skinning a sheep* which he had apparently killed.

“ Wliat do you mean,” said Mr Rees, “stealing my sheep, in broad daylight, too? ” The man stood up, and looking him defiantly in the face, said, “ I’ll kill ail y sheep that bites me.” Mi Rees was so dumbfounded by the audacity of the remark that he could not help- laughing, and finding that the poor fellow was absolutely starving, he said nothing more on the subject, but lode

This story has been put on record by me for a special purpose. I have seen it in print several times, and each time in a different garb, and never yet have I seen it quite truthfully. I now beg to place it before the public in its original state, and as the actors in the scene are still* alive, they will be able no doubt to vouch for the accuracy of my version. Owing to the number of diggers that came trooping up from Dunstan (Clyde) to the new Tolu Tiddler’s ground, the station supplies were soon exhausted, and the whale boat was kept plying constantly between the south end of the lake, where Kingston now lies, and the home station, bringing up flour, tea, and sugar, but even this was insufficient, and often days went by without any food being eaten by the poor diggers. These would frequently walk from the Arrow and back without getting any stores,\and come again the next day in the fond hope that the boat might have arrived during the night. On one of these occasions, when the boat had reached its destination, I was standing as usual at the cud of the jetty, in charge of a ban' of Hour, and out of this 1 was doling one pannikinful to each man who (rann> along the jetty, past where Mr llces was standing keeping guard with a loaded pistol to prevent a rush, and I took 2s Od from each digger, as he took his pannikinful of flour and moved

off. One hot-headed Irishman was present, a pugilist of no mean order, and who had been for years a member of the P.R., and he boastfully told his com'rades at the Arrow that he was going- to give Mr Rees a hit of his mind

on this He therefore began accusing Mr Rees of keeping the stoics back, so that they would have to pay boat fare at the Shotover Ferry several times for every pannikin of floui they got; and he said that the whole thing

was a got-up plan in order to iol> them and fill his own purse, and, in fact, considered his behaviour anything but fair and gentlemanly. Mr Rees paid no attention to his growling remarks for some time, and at last he quietly said, “ I have nothing to do with the boat at the Shotover; it belongs to the man who works it.” “You are a liar,” said the pugilist, and the words were hardly out of his mouth before Mr Rees's coat was off, and the foul-mouthed ruffian was spread out on the ground, 11 perfect quadruped. Springing up, however, he threw himself into position, but he had no chance, for his guard was beaten down, his face illustrated with cuts, and like a whipped cur, with its tail between its legs, he crawled away along

the lakeside, a sadder, and I trust, a wiser man. We never had any further trouble when doling out the flour to the many mouths we had to fill, and Mr Rees’s name as an amateur pugilist rose above that* of many of the members of the P.E. on the goldfields.

During my stay at the head of the lake there were about 50 Irishmen working in the Buckleburn, and these occasionally broke out into a state of rowdyism, owing to a supply of spirits having been brought to them by some itinerant grog seller. On one occasion they came to our hut in a body, and a very intoxicated body, too. I and an old man that we had for a cook were alone in the hut, so we were pretty much at the mercy of these 50 drunken ruffians, who swarmed inside the hut and proceeded to argue on that faiouiite subject of all Irishmen—religion—which gradually led to bitter feelings being expressed amongst them. One of them in the hope of soothing down the had feeling which had arisen, suggested a song, when a general chorus about some f< Maid of Killaloe was engaged in by the crowd, and I have never heard that song since then without thinking of the agony of that day’s whirlwind of discord. This being finished, the ai gu* ment once more waxed hot and ended in a free fight outside the hut door, the

Protestant party being, severely mauled by the Roman Catholic. Some ghastly wounds were inflicted, one, I remember, from the blade of a long-handled shovel, width cut a Catholic cheek from under the right eye right down, the flesh of the cheek hanging downwards, and the whole of the hack teeth being exposed. The leaders of the two parties stripped off their clothes, until they had nothing on them but their trousers, and engaged in a hand-to-hand pugilistic encounter and wrestling match, rolling over and over each other, and bleeding at every pore from the effects of the sharp-pointed spear grass, which grew very plentifully there, and over which they were rolling. Beaten in this single-handed engagement, the Protestant leader turned and fled, pursued by his antagonist, who gradually gained ground till the fugitive, to save himself, plunged into the lake, and swam out, from shore, whilst the victor, and several others, pelted him with stones. The poor wretch was nearly drowned before they allowed him -to land, and then, apparently satisfied! with their afternoon’s work and enteof tainment, which must have remin'deo. them of “Quid Oirland,” they marched back to the Buckleburn in a body, and left us in peace and quietness once move. (To be continued).