The Spirit of the Fields –

The Spirit of the Fields

by Suter Abis

On a stifling summer afternoon in 1910, a mournful procession crept down Hack Street in Sandstone, a small outpost clinging to the edge of the Western Australian scrub. It was a pitiful sight: a spring cart so dilapidated its wheels—lashed together with chaff bags and fencing wire—threatened to collapse at every turn. Pulling it was a horse so gaunt and weary it seemed a marvel he could stand, let alone haul the load. His harness was a patchwork of greenhide and rope, save for a surprisingly sturdy collar, the last remnant of better days.

In the cart sat a woman, about thirty-five, her face etched with exhaustion and resolve. Beside her, perched on a wooden box, she cradled a child of one year, while two others—a boy of seven and a girl of four—huddled on threadbare rugs in the back. Across from them lay a bundle, tightly rolled in a blanket: her husband. He had drawn his last breath that morning, six miles out from Sandstone. Their only sustenance was half a tin of condensed milk, the dregs of charity they’d received days earlier at Maninga Marley.

Image by Grok

Image by Grok

The woman eased the cart to a stop on the northern fringe of town, where the scrub swallowed the road. She tied the horse to a gnarled tree, its leaves as sparse as their provisions, and left the two older children in the cart’s scant shade. With the youngest in her arms, she trudged toward the police station, her steps heavy with grief and desperation. There, she poured out her story—a tale of ten months adrift, a family unmoored from the Eastern States, chasing a fragile hope.

Her husband had been frail when they set out, too sick to work, his lungs craving the salt air and promise of fish along the western coast. She had shouldered the burden alone, scrounging jobs—washing, scrubbing, odd tasks at hotels and boarding houses—while he minded the children. Her earnings kept them moving, town to town, though rarely enough to spare a coin for horse feed. The animal survived on whatever it could forage, its ribs sharpening with every mile. At night, they camped by the roadside; she’d hobble the horse and hunt for him at dawn, praying he hadn’t wandered too far. Progress was agonizingly slow—sometimes just a few miles a day.
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Harold Cocking – a plucky pioneer

Southern Cross Times – Christmas Eve – 24 December 1904, page 25


Harold Cocking
A Plucky Pioneer

Mr Harold Arundle Sidney Cocking was born at Latchley near Plymouth, Devon, England, and is a typical son of an English yeoman. It is slightly over 13 years since he landed in the West, and was extremely surprised to find that he not only had to buy a house but carry it around with him. He walked from Narrogin to Southern Cross, a distance of 300 miles, and went to work in the Central G.M. where, with Dick Pope, he had a contract for putting up a rise. It was his first experience underground. and he and his mate made about 30 shillings a shift each under Manager Parkes. Here he remained for about 12 months, when he bought and paid for a condensing plant, (to make water drinkable), horse, and dray, and started in business with 6d left over. For some time he did well, but although water was worth 17s. 6d. a hundred gallons, it is recorded of Cocking that he never charged a man for filling his waterbag. The reason for this “fellow feeling” may be briefly told in the following story.

Putting a man in charge of his business, he went out prospecting with a party to Mount Ida about 400 miles away. The party consisted of Messrs. Pearn, Allen, and Cocking and they pegged out the Rio Tinto lease, which they worked successfully for some years. At Mount Ida, they were joined by Walter Williams, who had already been there a while. Going out however they had a terrible experience, being frequently without a drop of water themselves for 36 hours, and afraid to eat either meat or bacon lest it made them more thirsty. Their horses often did not get a drink for three days. At Mt. Ida, they had to pack water for 25 miles from Granite Rocks.

Southern Cross Times 23 September 1905 page 3.

Southern Cross Times 23 September 1905 page 3.

From here Cocking set out alone in quest of supplies, and for four days his horses were without water, six out of seven perishing from thirst. On returning he met Williams and Allen coming away from the camp. They had been told that the only water supply, that of Granite Rock, had dried up. He tried to prevail on them not to leave himself and Pearn, as he was then 30 miles from water and doubtful if he could eat his remaining horse on the way home, he eventually persuaded Allen to stick with him. Williams however, had made up his mind to go to Menzies and accordingly went on. He perished on the road after crawling 12 miles on his hands and knees from a spot where he had taken off his hat and put his pocketbook and a few shillings down on the track.

Reaching Mt. Ida the party got the remaining horses out to the Rocks, but there was little or no water, and all died save one. Allen, who was a bad walker, remained at the camp, and Pearn and Cocking again made tracks for Menzies. It took them four days to get there and they had to be extremely cautious and careful as the local natives were very wild and dangerous. Recently they had killed a prospector named Cahill and his mate.

Hearing the dogs bark in the night they were quickly alert and found that the horse was missing. They had of course taken the pack off the horse and this was simply a ruse of the natives to steal their tucker while they were tracking up the horse. Going from Grato Creek to Mulline Rocks, they would have perished of thirst had it not been for the dog, who they missed for some time, but on his return, they could hear water rattling in his otherwise empty stomach. They watched him for some time, and when he made off again they followed and found the water.

Taken from the the English Illustrated Magazine 1892

The sand was so bad walking and driving the horse in front of them that they were nearly blind with blight, and it is certain that if they had not possessed constitutions like iron they could never have survived that trip. Ultimately the party abandoned Mt. Ida and set out for Menzies, but on the road, Allen was knocked up and could go no further. Leaving him under a tree, Cocking set out to get water but was so exhausted himself on reaching Menzies that when he got to Sherry’s Camp he could only ask them to take water to his mate and then fell fainting off the horse. When discovered, Allen was in a raging fever, from the results of which illness he afterward died. From Menzies Cocking and his mate made for Southern Cross and did 50 miles in one day without water. The sight of the blessed condensers, however, apart from the fact that during his absence the business had shown no profit, proved too much and Cocking went to his camp, where he was fortunately found a few days later in a fever by his old mate Pope.

He was removed to Mrs. Ward’s hospital, and here, on partly recovering, he went through another horrible ordeal. A miner had died from phthisis and from his sickbed Cocking saw the medical man sawing the unfortunate miner’s. breastbone and neck and rudely pulling out the affected parts for examination, afterward sewing him up with a sail needle and bag twine and pitching him into a packing case which had to do duty as a coffin. On pulling round again Cocking resumed the condensing work, the success of which somewhat compensated him for the many hardships and trials he had endured. From time to time he increased his stock of horses, waggons. drays etc, and today he has 36 horses in constant work, and is the largest carrier and teamster in the Yilgarn (Southern Cross) district.

For many years he never knew what it was to be in bed after four in the morning, and frequently had to sit up all night to protect the water from the raids of thirst-stricken cattle. The York, Coolgardie. Mt. Jackson, Parker’s Range, and other roads are never without a team from this stable. Mr. Cocking recalls the time when some Afghans with their camels endeavored to prevent him from getting water outback, but he convinced them of his determination to have it in the orthodox ‘British’ fashion. He remembers paying £10 for 75lb. of chaff and a drink for seven horses, also going over the Leonora-Gwalia ground before anything was ever done there. The Commonwealth mail contract for Mt. Jackson is in Mr. Cocking’s hands, also the escort for the mine. Sailor, one of the smartest ponies for his inches, and Tremolo, the well-known gelding and a good country race performer, are owned by him.

For many years Mr. Cocking has been a member of the Yilgarn Roads Board. To look at him one would not think that for years his diet had consisted of tinned dog and damper, with only an occasional potato at 2s a pound and no other vegetables. Success has however attended all his efforts and the humble but useless two “threepenny bits” with which he landed in Southern Cross with has undergone a process of compound interest. It is needless to say Mr. Cocking is a firm believer in  ‘The Cross” His opinion is that it has a great future.

Teams starting tor Mount- Jackson. Mr. Cocking, on horseback. is holding Tremolo in front.

Teams starting tor Mount- Jackson. Mr. Cocking, on horseback. is holding Tremolo (white horse) in front.

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Death of a Desperate man –

Munarra Gully is located 52 kilometres from Meekatharra, close to Tuckanarra. On the old Munarra Station (now Byro Station), three graves rest within a fenced, ungazetted burial ground. Among them lies Michael Koningas, Suig AH, a labourer who passed … [Continue reading]

Water, Water Nowhere – and not a drop to drink

Water was the great leveller. Everyone needed it, young or old, rich or poor. Many a venture has failed through lack of water, and many a life has ended through lack of, or too much of it. In the early gold rush days, it was often safer to drink … [Continue reading]

One Crowded Night of Life – by John Drayton

That day Mount Margaret was as quiet as a cemetery on a Sunday morning in Melbourne. Andy Flannagan, the 'Learned Bushman' and his mates, had reported a strike of alluvial gold 18 miles east, and all the prospectors not on good shows, and had pulled … [Continue reading]