THE GREAT GREAT POSSUM HUNT

The torches shone out across the open forest. Not that a torch was needed in such bright and crystal silver light. Another great possum hunt was in progress. The hunters equipped with torches, sling shots and sugar bags for holding their quarry. From a distance the torches danced through the forest as if they were fire flies. The beams were shone high into the trees looking for the tell tail reflections of beady eyes as the hunters moved from one tree to the next.

Then there would be the shout of "Possum". All would run to the call and the process would begin. All the torches shone up onto the hapless creature. Marksmen with their sling shots would take aim. With the volley off projectiles the animal had no chance. Stunned and concussed it would fall from the tree. There was shouting and running as the possum recovered and started to flee to another tree. Sometimes the animal would be subdued and placed in the bag. At other times it would survive and reach the next tree and the process would begin again. If a tree was hollow there was a good bet that several animals resided there. A large fire would be lit at the base of the tree in such a manner as for the fire to get inside the hollow and burn the tree down from the inside. The hunting crew would sit down for the several hours wait. If a new toy such as a transistor radio was present the boys could listen to pop music from far away places as Sydney and Adelaide. If not it was just a long cold night, telling tales and feeding the fire. When the tree came crashing down all the commotion was on again. The hunters now re stimulated and up chasing the small animals through the debris. Trick was to guard nearby trees and pounce on a possum as it seeked refuge. Not all went well with the captors as the small animals inflicted bites and a good number of scratches. Some times a possum would run up the nearest vertical object. A hunter! This would be amusing. The animals were taken back to camp at dawn and the skins removed and cleaned, stretched out to dry. The carcass went into the cooking pot. Small Joeys would some times be found. Someone would keep them feed them and make them pets back at the hostel.

TALL TALE

HOLE IN THE HEAD

Base camp was on the north side of a placid pool with the river flowing in down a shoot into the pool. A natural water slide that provided lot of fun. In the middle of the pool was a large rock. In winter the water was very cold. One would grab his soap in hand and swim out to the rock, lather up. Dive in and swim back to shore squeaky clean. Race to a near by camp fire to dry and warm up. At other times in warmer months it was just great to hang around the pool splashing and diving. Shoot the rapid race. To the east of the centre rock the pool was deep, but to the other three sides it was shallow with sharp rock sunder the surface. One this fine day Stall just dove straight into the shallow portion of the pool. The resulting hole in his head is still a reminder to day. He survived the concussion and swam to base camp for medical treatment. Very wet and covered in blood.

Attention was given straight away. The blood flowed down the forehead down the torso and dropped of a central appendage. Lavish attention and tender care was paid to the blood flow at this point. Never mind the hole in the head. Eventually the assistance moved from cleaning the blood in that remote location to actually stemming the flow in the scalp.

It was a long walk back to Herberton with many stops on the way, ably assisted by Raymond Keast and Bruce Ward. The return to Herberton was not greeted kindly. The night was spent between pain and delusions. Next morning Stall admitted himself to hospital. Hard to describe to the doctor what was happening in his head, as the psychedelic and trip were not in use at that time. It was two weeks for recovery and Stall still has the indentations as a reminder of fun days at the Walsh.

Tall Tale.

TARGET NOT MESTAKEN

There was that time out the Walsh when push came to shove.

Base camp was moved from the north side of the river to the south side of the river. Stalls camp was some way up the southern slope above base camp.

During the evening a competition was started in Stalls camp to see who could throw rocks the furthest and to see if anyone could actually hit the large cooking pot in base camp. Many rocks were thrown despite life and limb being at risk. Occasionally there would be a loud percussion return as the bulls eye large cooking pot was hit.

More regular the return was very vocal and blue. The command came to stop or ells shots would be fired and that vary much brought that conflict to a conclusion for the evening. Next day Stall was informed that if he ever tried that again he would be shot.

"Wouldn't dare ", retorted Stall. Back came the reply." Yes we would, Stick you backside out from behind that tree and find out". Stupid Stall did. Bang! (That hurt).This brought Stall to a narrow focus. Stall's backside was full of bird shot. Small lead pellets.

Stall forwarded himself to base camp were medical assistance was forth coming and each and every pellet, bar one, was diligently, carefully and possibly joyfully removed.

It appears the operation took a long time much to the amusement of the gathered crowd of onlooker

A Perforated backside full of small bleeding holes was not regular occurrence and drew a lot of interest.

TALL TALE.

WHY STEVE FOSTERS HAIR IS WHITE.

There was the time when all the town boys came out to the Walsh to share in all the fun. This is the source of many of the pics in Walsh River Activities. A great time was hade by all. Steven Foster, The son of a local wine grower was in attendance and enjoying the antics.

Stall and Geoff headed out to wards the caves to recover a wartime relic that they had noted a couple of years earlier. Now with more bravado and less common sense they mounted a recovery mission. It took about an hour to walk to the location and almost straight away completed their search. The relic was carefully lifted from its resting place of 20 years, and placed it in a sugar bag for the return trip back to base camp. 25 Lbs is Farley heavy load to carry over that distance but no worries. they duly arrived at  base camp just prior to evening meal preparation.. A great deal of concern was demonstrated by the more responsible members. The relic was then moved to a much safer distance from those in camp.

This did not stop Stall. Up the hill to what had become known as the bomb site and set about building a very large stack of fire wood. Shortly the relic was placed upon the prier and the fire was lit. Just a casual strolled down to camp and with possibly 10 minuets grace set about preparing a meal. Beans in a can dont take to much preparation. There is a lot of excited activity about the camp, once it was understood, that the fire was lit and that the bomb was in place. All the hostel boys started to hide behind trees and rocks. The towns folk were a bit bewildered by the excitement and strange activities. A lot of blue admonishments metered out to Stall. Everybody eventually heeded the warnings and found themselves safe cover not really knowing what to expect.

THE FLASH. THE FRIGHT. THE SHOCK. Then the blast and eventually the sound and the fiery derbies smoke and fire.  All this in a fraction of a second. It is amazing what the mind senses, and with the adrenaline, the senses follow the full sequence. Explosions as you see in media footage do not convey the feeling. I have only ever seen one media portrayal of an explosion that has any resemblance of real bomb blast.

And Steven Fosters Hair has been white ever since.

TALL TALE

JUST PLAIN STUPID

THE GUN BATTLE

There are times when we can wonder how we survive the stupid things adolescents do. These days it may be cars, drugs.

This particular case of stupidity is a matter of 2 guns and bravado. It was a weekend when there were only a few people out the Walsh.

Who knows how it started. There are two boys on the north side firing at a lone individual amongst the rocks on the south side. Shots are fired for a short time then some sense. Some abusive words are exchanged across the river and with honesty, the reality of the situation it is realised and the hostilities ceased. Stall is not at all confident about the truce and being unarmed moves away from the river and up amongst the rocks on the northern hillside. Stall realises he is being stalked and keeps a low profile amongst the tomb stone like rocks. He moves around to the east towards the falls and a probable escape rout back to the south side. The problem with this is that a cliff runs along the north side of the river. Stall knows his hunter and that he has worked out stalls escape plane and that it is best to stay away from the falls.  Stall moves down through the cover to the top of the cliff. These rocks and cliffs are smooth and there is no way of climbing down them. TRAPPED. No there are several trees were the upper branches reach up towards the cliff top and in true Indiana Jones style Stall makes the leap across to the tree tops. Thinking he is now safe and under cover of the scrub and the protection of the cliff. He relaxes and sits patiently for the situation to subside. WHACK. There is a hole in his thumb and blood down from his hand, and the pain! The hunter with gun is standing at the top of the cliff. A later debriefing indicated that Stalls escape plan had worked but when the gun man could not find Stall at the falls. He had then realised that he had seen the branches and leaves on only one tree out of several trees amongst the landscape move. And that required investigation.

TALL  TALE