N.B.
Don’t forget to get on the Electoral Roll
Darwin
4/10/1925
My Darling
Only one letter because up to the time I went into hospital – 23rd – I had not time or opportunity for writing, being on the road all the time but I will make this such a long one.
After we left Cloncurry we only ran out about 42 miles and spent the night at a place called Devoncourt where Hutchins said the people were friends of his. Old Professor Baker was there and gave us no end of amusement in various ways. From there we ran through Dutchess, Mandangie – where we had tea, and went out and camped at Headingsley. The next day we lunched at Lake Nash – Dr Orchard by the way, is still there, and afterwards without recrossing the border, ran straight up to Avon Downs without going into Camooweal at all. We spent the night at Avon and the next day went via Soudan and the Rankin to Alexandria and then on to Brunette. Only the bookkeeper and Doug Cotton were at home – such a contrast to the dozens that used to conduct fly drives before meals last time I was there. We left fairly late the next day and only ran to Ashton’s where we stopped at the Police Station – both the policemen were drunk. The next day we ran straight across to Newcastle in the one go and stopped the night there. Contrary to expectations, Burkitt said nothing about his little argument with your Dad through the P J\LG. Hutchins used to drive part of the time – he used, I think, to like driving in and out of stations if he only took the wheel a mile or so back. It may have been imagination on my part but I thought it quite marked and used to humour him accordingly. I don’t know whether Rupe noticed or not. Nobody the other side of Brunette but thought I was travelling up with Hutchins. This side of Brunette of course he was unknown until I introduced him in that it did not work so well.
When we got to Mataranka he was very keen to see Elsey Station and said he would accompany Rupe and me down the Roper. I was not a bit thrilled as there was a bit of a squeeze in the car and I knew it would be hell driving over the rough road with the steering wheel spinning round and elbows being dug into neighbours. You know dear, how sometimes I used to ask even you to let me have a little more leg room in Phlebotamus so you can guess what I was like in this car. Anyway, I made a special trip down the Elsey with him leaving Rupe at Mataranka and I think in that way satisfied his curiousity as to the Roper. Anyway; he left us at the Katherine, promising to wait until we returned from the Roper and then make some trips with me round the top end. When we returned from Roper Bar, Mrs Lowe told us at Mataranka that she’d had a letter from him and he had caught the previous boat. He never left a message or left a note or letter of any description for me before leaving, but I don’t suppose that matters much.
After we left him at the (xxx) at Emmagalen (?) Rupe and I went to the Public Spa (?) at Katherine River, had tea, loaded up and cleared. We camped that night at the King River having driven until 1 was too tired to go on. Next morning we breakfasted with the nurses at Raundslay Hospital, and left tor Mataranka, The place we made sort of last(?) and after we unloaded a lot of stuff – spare parts etc. we had a swim in the Bogey Hole and left for the Bar. We got that night as far as a place called Daggerhandle Lagoon and I remembered that the road ahead was extremely rough and there was no more water for miles. So we camped there although the hole was practically dry and the water the consistency of porridge, more or less. Next day, after a series of punctures – these new straight side Dunlops can’t go over a stick, nail or bolt of any sort without puncturing – we camped at a lagoon near the Roper Valley turn-off. Next day we ran into Roper Valley and spent the night there and next day got down to Roper Bar.
At Roper Bar, next day we crossed the river – the first geared car ever to go across and the second car to attempt the crossing. The river is about sixty yards wide or more of very deep water, but at this point it is crossed by a rocky bar about twelve inches below water level, and covered with slime. The banks were very steep, the bed very rocky and the car skidded constantly (?) and once looked like slipping off the bar into deep water. However, we crossed to find that we could not cross the Walla River lower down and we had to return to the Bar. We sent niggers down to the Mission to tell them to send the launch up and after a couple of days during which we commenced to subsist (?) on kangaroo, they sent back word that they couldn’t send the launch up, we would have to ride. So ride we did, to find on arrival at the Mission that it is one of the most disgracefully ineffective washouts ever perpetrated on a long suffering country. Only a handful of niggers there, and they very much disposed to damn the Mission. The road back the twenty five miles from the Mission next day on ‘Crock’ that could hardly survive the trip and we set out for Roper Valley again. Night caught us about eight miles out and we camped. Next day we made Roper Valley. One of the funny occurrences of the trip and connected with this part of the journey. \\le had brought a nigger from Roper Valley and sat him on the back. Do you remember Phlebotamous dropping the tray off the front spring when we were driving from Murwillumbah to Lismore? Well the same thing happened with this car, and we were going about 20 mph. The nigger saw it lying on the road and got off to pick it up!! You can imagine his contortions of body when he hit the ground and his facial expressions after he picked himself up. Rupe and I simply screamed and the poor devil didn’t know what to make of it.
From Roper Valley we went to Hodgson Downs, camping for lunch at another Porridge lagoon where we couldn’t drink the tea after it was made. That night we camped on a very pretty creek called the Crawford of which more anon. Here we met the Barohole (?) trail. Next day we passed Kallwood (?) and ran to Maryfield where we had a bogey, and spent the night, and next day checked the OT line, No. 2 Bore and so to Mataranka about 6pm.
We used to spend our days waiting at the Roper loafing about, swimming in the river and shooting. Rupe attempted fishing without much luck. \\/ e caught a large number of malarial mosquitos which I used to examine but curiously none seemed to bite me and all made a dead set for Rupe, We used to laugh and say that if there were any infected ones amongst them, he’d catch it.
On arrival at Katherine, I left Rupe there at his own request, with the car – it had to be inspected by the Works Director at the bridge to see if Government would buy it – by the way we don’t know yet whether they will or not although it has been recommended strongly. I came up to Darwin and was to return on the following Wednesday’s train. On Tuesday night I felt rotten – ached all over and delerious all night. However, I dressed and packed up and went down to the station – the train left at 8. At the station I felt terrible and if it hadn’t been for Rupe, I would have gone straight home to bed. As it was he was staying around at the Katherine at his own expense, waiting for me to rejoin him. Just before the train left I was very sick so I returned to the Pub and took my temperature -104°. I didn’t have any breakfast but went down to the office and stained some blood smears of myself but was too sick to examine them. I came back to the Pub and spent two days in bed here (23rd and 24th) and then went out to hospital. I was discharged today and I’m pretty wonky, very white – I lost a terrible lot of blood – and skinnier than ever. 1 am still taking quinine and will continue for months yet as it was the malignant form and will not go away at once. I think from the date of onset that I must have picked it up at the Crawford but it may have been at the Bar or the Mission.
Tomorrow or next day I’m going down the Daly. Easton will be coming with me. I will be away about a week and then return to Darwin. On the 18th I hope to catch ‘Kinchela’ which after visiting Bathurst Island, Oenpelli, Goulburn Island, Elcho Island, Crocodile Island and Groote Island runs to Barohole(?) where she should arrive about October 31 “. That day Booth, the mailman for Camooweal leaves with horses. I hope to join him and ride down as far as Top Springs. If the car is not sold, Rupe will take it there and we will drive home. If it is sold, Rupe will catch the ‘Montana’ this week and I will have to ride all the way to Brunette where I may be able to persuade Doug Cotton to send his car into Camooweal for the Plane. If I miss the mailman, police horses will take me to Burketown where T will catch the mail car to Cloncurry.
So much for me – pages of it. I do hope you write by this coming mail and let me know
all about yourself and baby. Of course I got no letter last time, the strike, curse it, fixed that, but I do look forward anxiously to next week, in the hope of getting a few lines – to say you love me. Is it strange, I wonder that I should wish for that – married 18 months and away so much of it?
Darling mine, I want to tell you something. I suppose everybody when they are ill thinks they are much worse than they really are. But I was 1040 and more for days and towards the end- passing pints of blood every day it seemed – I was delerious quite a lot but used to get time when everything was quite clear to me. Then I used to feel absolutely all-gone and I felt my pulse so weak and dicrotic that I felt I could not last another day – did not believe that I would last another day. Maybe it was imaginitis again – but I want to say is this. Feeling that all was up, the thought uppermost in my mind was not of fear or dread but a terrible regret, that I would never see you again.
(A personal conclusion follows)