A Tale of Strange Tappings.

A Tale of Strange Tappings.

(BY W.R.R.)

One of the most revolting murders ever committed by the blacks was that of Baird, on the headwaters of the Batavia River, In 1893.. Baird was a prospector, and, like many others in Cape York Peninsula in those days, he risked his life to push out into new country In an endeavour to strike good gold. With a half-caste for a mate, and by the aid of a blackboy, he succeeded In locating an isolated but rich patch of alluvial, which they worked to good advantage for some months, gradually following the gold into deeper ground, until it was found necessary to sink a shaft to cut the wash at 30 feet or thereabout',. Baird was a man well liked by the Batavia blacks, who would do anything for him; but Finke, the half-caste, was detested by them, for he had made himself obnoxious through his dealings with the lubras. The ill-feeling so engendered culminated in a decision by the tribe to com- pass his destruction. This resolve was conveyed to the condemned man, but, Instead of taking the warning, he thereafter seemed to take a pleasure in inflaming the anger of the blacks by trapping and despitefully using their womenfolk.
So certain were the warriors of their victim that, contrary to their usual custom when meting out Justice, they mustered in broad daylight for the attack. But Finke, having been warned, was on the alert, and, seeing the compact array of warriors in war paint, surmised that the day of reckoning had arrived. Not waiting even to warn his mate, he caught a horse and escaped, leaving Baird, who was unconscious of the Impending danger, working in the shaft they were sinking, some 12 feet underground. The blacks, thwarted in their desire for revenge on the culprit, deter- mined, in accordance with their tribal laws, to make another pay for his misdeeds. It did not matter to them that their selected victim was innocent, or that he was well liked by nearly all the tribe. The aboriginal law, "an eye for an eye," must be obeyed, and so they speared Baird as he stood in the shaft working. When found next day he was still alive, although he was transfixed by three spears.
The cruelty displayed, more than the actual killing, roused the ire of the white men in the district, and "justice" was meted out so liberally that when the law stepped in only a beggarly remnant of 13 of the once-powerful Batavia tribe survived, and it Is certain that many members of adjacent tribes also fell victims in the indiscriminate slaughter.

A HAUNTED SHAFT.

Until Baird's estate was proved the mine remained exempt, but eventually was thrown open. Several men tried their luck, and sunk shafts all round the old workings, but they got no gold to speak of, and gradually drifted away. But, strange to relate, each and all carried with them the tale that Baird's shaft was haunted. Every night they averred, plainly could be heard the tap tap of a pick, as if his spirit still kept on at the work at which he was engaged when he was struck down. As Is usual in the out- back, "nerves" won, and the ghost was left In possession for a considerable period. Even the blacks shunned the place, and otherwise brave warriors would make a circuit of miles rather than risk the debbil-debbil their minds had conjured out of the reports circulated by those who had heard the mysterious noises.
Some time after this commotion, It was Incumbent that I should visit the east coast In the neighbourhood of the Lockhart River, and, as my most direct route lay through Baird's diggings, I determined to Investigate the ghost story. Arriving at the place, I off-saddled, prepared my camp, had tea, and settled down to await developments. It was a glorious night. The moon had reached the full, and shone so brightly that every feature around stood out softly and clearly in the radiance. The weather was balmy, warm, with a gentle south-easterly lapping everything in its embrace, so that covering was unnecessary; therefore no tent obscured my view of the workings. I lay on my blankets wondering what would be the outcome of the venture, and, wondering, fell asleep.
It may have been two hours later that I awoke to find myself sitting up, listening intently. Evidently some sound had penetrated to the brain, and, sub-consciously the mind had reacted on the body. Shaking off the effects of slumber, it was not long before I located the cause of my unrest, for, clearly, across the intervening space, came the tap, tap, tap-then a pause-tap, tap, tap, as if a miner were dressing down a shaft. I distinctly noted that it was not the heavy thud of "sinking," but the lighter pick work used in "squaring" down the sides. It would be ridiculous to state that I v/as stoically indifferent to what was taking place. In reality, I was us near what is called "blue funk" as it was possible to be, and tremors would persist In running down my spine. Fortunately, sanity overcame fear, and curiosity completely established reason. In the afternoon, when I surveyed the ground, I had marked a tree standing beside the shaft. It had been riven by lightning many year s previously, denuded of all but three branches, and these, with the trunk, were hollow and devoid of bark. Now, in the cold moonlight, it looked weird and spectral.
To this tree I crept, thinking to view the proceedings from such a point of vantage; but directly I arrived at its base the tapping ceased, and after an interval I was forced to return to my bed, only to be disturbed again and again, and again and again to be defeated in my efforts to elucidate the mystery. At last I determined to remain In the shadow now cast by the tree and await developments. Ten long minutes passed in stillness, then came the familiar tap, tap, tap, but it was not from the shaft the sound came; it was from a hollow limb of the lightning-blasted tree, and, looking up, I saw the source of the rumours and the cause of my recent perturbation. A great grey owl was sitting on the limb of the tree, beating the life out of its victim-a bush rat, or some such small vermin.

The Sydney Morning Herald
August 1932
http://newspapers.nla.gov.au/