In Crocodile Land , livre ebook

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164 pages

English

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In Crocodile Land is principally the story of travels by lugger through northern waters and into slimy creeks where the huge crocodiles abound. The author took part in many hunting expeditions and enlightens us on the various methods adopted for catching these fearsome creatures. The party had more than a little success, to the great glee of the blackfellows who accompanied them.

We journey next into the country of the buffaloes. Here on sunlit clearings through thickets of pandanus palms the buffaloes were to be found in hundreds... There is plenty of risk in hunting the buffalo... Once the shooting starts, the horse must continue his gallop, faster than the buffaloes and alongside them, keeping them going. One stumble and the end is near for horse and rider. - Western Mail, Perth 1946

Although it has the thrill of crocodile shooting and trapping as its central theme, the book also affords a sympathetic and fascinating study of the aborigines and their tribal customs, slants on the dangerous sport of buffalo hunting, and vivid pen pictures of Wyndham, Darwin and other far northern towns. - Adelaide Advertiser, 1946

Introduced by Tony McKenna

Sujets

Historical

Lettres et linguistique

Biography

Autobiography

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Publié par	ETT Imprint
Date de parution	01 juin 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781922698315
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Among Australian writers and writers on Australian subjects the reputation of Ion Idriess stands high. He has travelled many thousands of miles throughout the practically unknown country of Central Australia and the far North, and speaks with authority on many phases of life unknown to most of us.
This writer can find charm and romance in unlikely places. Whether he is walking through a pandanus thicket or exploring a water-lily lagoon he sees always the beauties of his surroundings, the strange vegetation and the unusual things.
“In Crocodile Land” is principally the story of travels by lugger through northern waters and into slimy creeks where the huge crocodiles abound. The author took part in many hunting expeditions and enlightens us on the various methods adopted for catching these fearsome creatures. The party had more than a little success, to the great glee of the blackfellows who accompanied them.
We journey next into the country of the buffaloes. Here on sunlit clearings through thickets of pandanus palms the buffaloes were to be found in hundreds. The author describes the scene. “Around its green edges were big red kangaroos cropping the grass while giant jabirus and smaller cranes fished the lagoon edges, buffaloes staring at us solemnly.” There is plenty of risk in hunting the buffalo. A man must have a fine horse, intelligent and sure-footed: he must be a perfect shot, for there is only one sure way of killing a buffalo with the first shot-a bullet into the backbone where the hide is thin. Once the shooting starts, the horse must continue his gallop, faster than the buffaloes and alongside them, keeping them going. One stumble and the end is near for horse and rider.
Western Mail , Perth 1946

Skinning on board.

This 9th edition published by ETT Imprint, Exile Bay 2022

This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the publishers:

ETT IMPRINT PO Box R1906
Royal Exchange NSW 1225 Australia

First published by Angus & Robertson in 1946. Reprinted 1947, 1948, 1950, 1951, 1952, 1966, 1969.
First electronic edition by ETT Imprint 2022

Copyright © Idriess Enterprises Pty Ltd, 2022
Introduction copyright © Tony McKenna 2022

ISBN 9781922698-29-2 (pbk)
ISBN 9781922698-31-5 (ebk)

Cover: Crocodile hunting on the Daly River, 1934.

Designed by Tom Thompson
CONTENTS

1. UP SAIL FOR CROCODILE LAND
2. THE CREW
3. THE CREEK
4. IN THE HOME OF THE CROCODILES
5. “LITTLE FELLER” CROCODILE
6. A PREHISTORIC INFERNO
7. A STROLL IN BUFFALO LAND
8. CROCODILE LOVE
9. THE FAMILY STRUGGLE FOR SURVIVAL
10. A DAY IN CRANE LAND
11. QUAINT FACTS ABOUT CROCS
12. THE “SLAVES” PUT IT ACROSS
13. BATTLES OF GIANTS
14. THE FRONTIERS OF ADVENTURE
15. IN BUFFALO LAND
16. THE DUCK-HUNTERS
17. THE OLD DAYS IN DARWIN
18. IN DANGEROUS WATERS
19. NEW SHOOTING GROUNDS
20. WAGIS, QUEEN OF THE PUMPKIN
21. EXCITING MOMENTS
22. MEN OF THE WILDS
23. WILD WOMEN
24. WHERE ALL THINGS EAT TO LIVE
25. LIFE OF THE WILD
26. DANGEROUS NIGHTS
27. THE CREW IN DISGRACE
28. THE TRAPPER TRAPPED
29. THE FLYING PLAGUE
30. FIGHT FOR LIFE
31. THE PATROLS RIDE OUT
32. NALGEE
33. THE STONE AGE WILL PASS AWAY
34. THE BLOOD HOLE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
THE incidents and observations recorded in this book were not all noted on one trip, but throughout years of wandering across the continent from the north-east coast to the north-west—little things that attracted a bushman’s curiosity, or were pointed out to me by trappers or hunters, or by that incomparable student of the wild, the aboriginal. I must ask the reader’s forbearance if there are errors in my account of the anatomy of the creatures described, for I am far from being a naturalist.
For photos other than my own I should like to thank Walkabout , Fred Don, Jack Mahoney, Ted Morey, Mr St John Robinson, the National Publicity Association, and the Department of Information.
I. L. I.

FOREWORD
THERE was no dustcover on the book that caught my attention while idly looking through the bookshelves of my Grandfather’s country property. Just three words in faded teal writing – In Crocodile Land.
Little did I know then as a boy of around 14 what an influence this book of Idriess’s would have on my life and the travels and adventure it would lead me on around Northern Australia after I left school.
So, what was it about the book that provided such inspiration for a city based private school boy. Basically it was the rawness, the frontier based stories and characters that Idriess captured so well along with the gritty black and white photos, thus nurturing a keen desire to seek adventure in the North just as he had done.
Luckily, I never had to encounter a character as bleak and callous as the Skipper that Idriess had to endure, described in the book by Idriess as “you were born to be one of the argumentative, obstinate cusses sent to plague the world”. Moreover the racist language use by the Skipper is confronting and shockingly real.
Happily, the book displays Idriess’s great story telling skills allowing the reader to immerse themselves in the steamy mangroves teeming with birdlife and menacing crocodiles. It was these depictions that meant most to me along with his admiration of the aboriginal bush skills and their knowledge and love of their beloved country.
His knowledge and admiration of our First Nations people can sometimes seem slightly strange by terms he uses but I greatly recommend reading Nemarluk and The Red Chief to understand his acknowledgment of these traditional owners and their pride of ownership of this great country.
Idriess has a unique way of introducing quirky and adventurous characters throughout his books and this is no exception and I often think to myself to how lucky I was to meet some of the same breed in my travels.
I’m sure that Cane Knife Jack who I met a number of times would have featured in one of his books as his reputation for wearing no clothes but just a cane knife on a belt as he traipsed through the rainforest between Cape Tribulation and Cairns was legendary. Likewise but with clothes on were the Watkins brothers of Cardwell who I became treasured friends with over many years. What amazing exploits Cocky, Frisco and Micky got up to on along the Far North Coast and I feel forever grateful to Idriess who inspired me to head North to meet such seafaring legends.
Finally, thank goodness for Tom Thompson who keeps these stories alive especially in this case by publishing the 9th Edition after being out of print for 50 years.
Tony McKenna Producer Discovering Idriess
I
UPSAIL FOR CROCODILE LAND
How about coming crocodile shooting?” suggested the Skipper. “There’s money in skins at present.”
“That tempts me,” I answered.
“Good—man was born to be tempted. Anyway there’s adventure in it—and maybe profit. I’ve got the boat. We’ll recruit a crew of sorts. You supply the petrol, and a share of the stores?”
“Righto!” I agreed. “That will do me.”
And we strolled across to the pub.
It was a warm day in Darwin. The little port of “Happy-go-lucky” was dreaming away its midday siesta. I’d been wondering whether I’d take a trip west out to the wild Fitzmaurice River country looking for gold, or east across the Alligator Rivers buffalo shooting for hides. Or would I simply wait until the pearling luggers sailed, then cruise with them?
In that humid midday the pot of beer was cool.
“There’s thousands of slimy reptiles lying along the coast just waiting to be shot,” winked the Skipper.
I smiled. Crocodiles are not so easy. But the question of what to do next was settled. The dreamy North has a way of solving the problems of her lackadaisical sons.
From the hallway came the lazy voices of a few men taking things easy in cool whites. Business men, Government officials, a pearler or two, several cattlemen in from the back country.
The Skipper was an old acquaintance, a sea wanderer whose home and love was his little vessel. It brought him his living too, for there are out-of-the-way jobs to be picked up by such a craft in northern waters. It may be in running stores to an isolated lighthouse, or cable-repair work, or a salvage job on a wreck, or transporting a load of native lepers, or carrying a police patrol by sea, or a rescue party for lost airmen—unusual jobs come the way of such a craft apart from the job the owner may indulge in at his own whimsical fancy.
The Skipper sighed as he put down his empty pot. He was not a drinking man. We had pledged our word, so we strolled out into the empty street. My companion, though short in stature, was stoutly built as his singlet and shorts amply showed. Of a benign and apparently innocent countenance, this colourful roamer was liable to “turn up” anywhere.
“We’ll stroll down to Jolly’s and buy the petrol,” I suggested.
“Right. Then we’ll ship the stores, and sail with the dawn tide.”
Surely neither man nor woman could have resisted such a night to start an adventure. Full moon silvering the water, a flying fish like a quivering jewel as it skipped down that silvered lane. A few stars only, for the heavens were a blue mist. The shoreline tiny cliffs velvet black below a tracery of treetops, an occasional bungalow light shining like a star. Farther south behind there Darwin lay dreaming. The Lotus like a lily in the night swinging to a full tide, the riding light on the jib stay brightly burning. In gentlest movement, the water was quietly lolloping her sides. Like a ghost vessel astern lay the white lugger St Francis , from Bathurst Island Mission. Just ahead the shadowy outline of a black-painted vessel from which came laughing voices from aboriginals ab