recollections of an old Bushie

[william williams]

Humorous Recollections of an Old Bushman

It was back in 60 when we meaning my mate and I decided that there was money to be made, in the kangaroo skin market. Now some of you may say what a repulsive life that would be, well maybe it was, but still, we didn’t mind the dust, the smell, and flies but the money that we made was clean.
Life in those days went something like this.
Now me and me mate had skinners that we employed to skin the roos and peg the hides out, on the clay pans beside our camp when they were dry, we would pack them and send them off to market.
We worked on what is known as the lunar month; it took 28 days for the moon to complete its cycle for you see the nights are very black for seven nights, then, the moon starts to shine longer and stronger each night until it becomes too bright for the spotlight to be of any effect.
So, every month, there are eight nights where the moon is too bright so we’d have a spell, when we would go visiting the pubs and the bright city lights that were calling to us


Booze and wild women, oh how they took their revenge out on us!
I swear I’ll never touch another drop of grog again I said, for my head was thumping like a drum, as I was feeling rather seedy and not in the best of health, as I called into the aboriginal Mission at Wally’s place, at breakfast time, and the conversation went something like this.
“Hey, boss,” said Mary, “you wanna tucker too.” “What cooking Mary,” I asked, “Yeal Boss”.
“Well I looked over to a large frying pan hanging over the fire and slowly cooking were round pieces about six inches long with a slit in them just like pieces of eel laying there frying”. Yeah”, I said, thinking she said Eel in her sing-song kind of English and a pannikin of tea to.
Well after breakfast, I started to feel better if that was at all possible.

Okay all aboard I sang out at they all climbed up onto the back of the old ex army blitz that we used to drive back to camp when suddenly, a large carpet snake, decided to cross the track
“Whoa boss”, someone yelled out. “What’s wrong,” I asked as they jumped out of the blitz.
“There’s a big Yeal on the track, we have him for tucker boss”, they sung out.
Oh, no I thought as I bent over throwing my stomach in every direction.
As I drove on I thought now that wasn’t too bad was it. “Anyway, the boys had him for tea that night. So I guess it was a case of mind over matter. Your mind it don’t care so it don’t matter.


Well we lived under canvas while shooting in those days.
We would shoot during the night, skin and peg out the hides early in the morning then have breakfast then go to bed for six or seven hours get up reload our ammunition and check the hides and move what needed to be packed then have tea and get ready to start all over again.
Well our tents were those ex army tents, you know the type kaki green made of heavy canvas.
We would roll up the sides of the tents to allow the air to move around keeping the temperature down while we slept in just our jocks during the summer while lying on top of your bunk.

Well this morning, I turned in as normal and quickly went to sleep lying on my back as usually
when a shotgun roared right beside my bed.
“What in the flaming hell was that.” I said as I lifted of my bed almost horizontal nearly filling my jocks.
Still shaking, I finally got my wits about me. “What in bloody hell happened I asked.”
One of the native boys managed to stop laughing long enough to point to the floor at the other side of my bunk.
I turned and looked at the floor where there was a rather large brown snake still in its death throws.

“By crickey boss, yah shoulda seen your face boss as yah sprang from the bed.
Yah was gunna fight the world fair dinkum boss”.
After I settled down my mate brought me well laced pannikin of tea and then told me what had happened.
While I slept this brown snake slid into camp, when boys saw it, it was making its self-comfortable there on my belly.
Well, I was safe for as long as I, or they, did not try to move it, meanwhile while all this was going on I slept peacefully never once moving.
After a while, the snake it decided it was time to move on, and as soon as it reached the floor, they killed it with a blast from the old shotgun, that we had kept in camp just for them.

Well it’s all in the past for now, but when I remember that incident I still shudder.

There were many other thing that happened around our humble camp and one of those made my sides jump with laughter when I remember it.

There was Albert that was what we called him.
He was a frill neck lizard that had made friends with us and would often join us at teatime and dine with us.
Our food he would cadge along with, as many flies as he could get and grew quite fat and friendly.
This particular day I woke rather early and walked around for a while and ended sitting at the table with a pannikin of tea close by. I rested my head on my hands shut my eyes and had a snooze.
Some thing woke me but as I had learnt not to move a muscle until I was sure just what it was.
I opened my eyes and there not a foot away from my eyes sat Albert his frill neck extended his mouth open standing there looking across at me. Well I am sure my trousers were full of it.

You might laugh at that scenario. Well now, try to imagine this scene.

Down beside the river we would often enjoy a swim naked as the day we came into this world.
Often when the sun went behind the clouds the mozzies would come and visit us, as we lay, naked on the sand bar.
Now me mate he read the instructions on that army mozzie repellent bottle, it said, use liberally but under no circumstances were you to get it in your eyes or on tender parts of your body.
Well me mate he promptly forgot about what he had read on the bottle so next time when the mozzie visited us he used it liberally. Now nature it called out to him in short he needed to have a pee so being a so-called cultured person that he said he was, of to the bushes, he did go.
He turned his bare bottom to me as he faced in the opposite direction, and so he started.
Now forgetting that his hand now covered in mozzie repellent, he grasped his pride and joy.
He screamed. A sound I am sure was something from another world.
Then, took of running like a startled goat, running starkers across the sand bar to the river where he could wash it off.
I must admit there were a few choice remarks made to him, which I did enjoy as I reminding him about his nocturnal escapades in the city.
Who was it that said life was dull

[Jasper Brush]

Ha, ha.

Some good yarns there Bill.

I skinned a brown snake once. I wanted to make a snakeskin belt.

Nice pink flesh but pheeeww it ponged a bit.


John