CHASING THE 'ROOS

Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 2, Issue 252, 15 June 1932, Page 7

CHASING THE 'ROOS

JOYFUL HUNT WILD CAREER OVER BROKEN COUNTRY AT 60 M.P.H. * A THRILLING SPORT. (Specially written for the "Post" by "Aussie.") This is the first of several artticles specially contributed to the "Morning Post" by a district resident whd has spent many years in Australia, and covers a number of his own experiences ini different parts of the Commonwealth. Bef ore I start I may stay that Kangaroo hunting is pi'e-emiently a man's game, for travelling over a broken country in a high powered touring car at sixty miles an hour is not a sport for the weak or faint at heart. To those who like a thrill with. their sport, however, it can confidentially be reeommended without fear of their being disappomted. In this particular case there were three members in the party and we left Broken hill in N.S.W. about 10 a.m. one morning. We were travelling in a powerful six eyclinder car which we had prepared for the trip the night before by removing the hood, mudguards etc. Stripped for action she was easily capable of 60 miles p.h. and we hoped to see her do it. Under these circumstances it was not long before we reached ICinaibbra Station, over portion of which we proposed to shoot. The homestead was a large white hotise with the usual sheds and yards near at hand. There were also a few gun trees, and mulga trees; these are worthy of mention as growth of any kind was very scarce, there having been a seven-year drought over this area. There were three children at the station, the eldesfc five years old and none of them had ever seen rain. A large number of cattle had died from lack of water and naturally the family were pretty hard pressed as a result, but as is nsual in these cases they just kept smiling and endeavoured to carry on until the rain arrived. It may be mentioned in passing that rain did come a year later and in time to save the situation. ICeyed For The Chase. We left the homestead one man in front holding a shot-gun across his knees, myself in the back seat with a 303, and all of us keyed up for the chase. We eruised away at about 30 miles an hour over broken country the sun seorching down, and red dust from the rubble flying in our faces. After about half an hour's cruising over this desert, the passenger in front gave the welcome shout of "They're jumping!" and pointed away to the left where sure enough a mob of 'Roos' could be seen hopping away at high speed. The driver swung his wheel hard around, stepped on the throttle, and with a roar from the exhaust and from each of us we were off whooping and yelling at the top of our voices when our breath was not jolted out of us. The ride was by no means smooth, the car was travelling at 60 m.ph. ' taking stones, bumps, hollows, and small drains in its stride. The mob of kangaroos could be seen in the distance, covering the ground in great leaps and travelling at about 60 m.p.h. The First Kill. As we overtook them Bob and I got ready to fire as soon as distance and a comparatively smooth patch of ground should give us some hope of suceess. "Bang! Bang! went Bob's two barrels, and Bang! went mine, two kangaroos fell and before we could load again the car had swooped through the whole mob. Now the fun really begun for the 'Roos' split and ran in all directions while our driver weaved the car to and fro round about to give us further shots. This ride was practically indescribable. The air was filled with the roar of the car's exhaust, the screeching of the 'Roos' and the alternate shrieks of laughter and imprecations as the car swayed, skidded and bumped from side to side, over mounds, and into gulleys, all at 50 to 60 m.p.h. So the hunt proceeded, the car constantly circling, cutting through and circling the racing 'Roos," we we taking pot shots as the opportunity offered. A Near Shave. In the general excitement of the moment, I, from the back seat, let my 303 off just beside the driver's right ear. So near, that he, feeling the wind of the bullet must needs get a fright and with our car still doing 60 m.p.h., let go o'f the steering wheel; The car swerved violently to the left, struck a rut half capsized to the right and finally with all three occupants holding on for dear life, came to a stand-still on all four wheels and facing in the opposite direction. A near shave. We each picked ourselves up, had a "spot" and continued merrily after the kangaroos, now fast disappearing, until a boundary fence intervened and our car not being able to jump like the 'Roos' we swung around on two wheels and righted ourselves again. A Joyful Meal. We lunched out there on the desert, and it was a joyful luncheon. As I look back on it now, it seems it may have been a bit too joyful, for on the return trip, after skining the bag of 38 'Roos,' I remember Bob soiemnly challenging me to shoot a 'Roo!' This, when we were on the fringes of civilisation again yrith not a 'Roo' within miles. Then once more with all the solemity of the drunk he begged of me to shoot a 'Roo.' So I shot at a 'Roo' that I thought I saw but which proved to be Bob's sheep dog, who disappeared in a cloud of dust my bullet having missed him by half an inch. They were wild days, but good days, and as I said before if anyone wants a sport with a kick in it — let him go 'Roo" hunting at 60 m.p.h. Sometimes as I look at a pair of kangaroo feet on my desk, I wish myself bacK there again.-