USC295_0016

-4-

for the plantations. A cutting 'round the hill along the high bank of
Woongoolbver Creek was cut with axes and shovels. It is still in use. The
Woongoolbver-Eurong road across the Island would be the best grade wise
crossing of the Island, I think. I was chain and peg boy for Dad when he surveyed
the cutting and would spend much of the days with the gang of workers putting the
cutting in. I did a lot of chain work for Dad too when he was measuring up blocks
for clearing etc.

In 1922 I think, just after we had gone from the Island, Dad went back for an
inspection trip. I went with him. We stayed or camped in the house which was
vacant at the time. Three young Forestry 'trainees, cadets?' whatever, visited-
by names- Grenning, who was to become Director of Forests.

-Alan Trist, and another whose name I cannot recollect but who is the subject
of this story.

Came the weekend, Sunday-Visitors would like to go out to Ocean Beach.
Another, I cannot remember his name, was the Foreman at the Station, so a party
was made up of: Grenning, Alan Trist, Mr.X, the Foreman and myself.
After sorting out suitable horses and finding Mr.X could not ride for nuts, he
was given the worst saddle and a horse called Bob. Bob was given against my
wishes. I knew him of old but Foreman had the say of course.

We started out and of course Mr.X like all chum riders wanted to canter and
kept egging me on to get ahead of the others. My horse was a good walker and we
got some hundred yards ahead. As we came out of the scrub into the forest Mr.X
could not contain himself any longer and his behaviour soon let Bob know his
measure and off bolted Bob. Mr.X, I guess, thought, "This is what I have been
waiting for." I knew what Bob was doing having witnessed it before. Bob always
tried out his riders and bolted with all chums. All I could do was to move along
keeping him in sight as to try and catch him would only lead to exciting Bob more
anyway. Half a mile further and full pace by then, 'X's' hat blew off. Mr.X
with all the confidence of a chum half turned and reached out as if to grab the
hat and of course lost balance and started falling when about 45 angle downwards,
a leaning bloodwood tree on the side of the track wrapped him round itself. Bob
kept going. I came up and jumped off. Mr.X was lying with his head screwed round
and making funny gurgling noises. I squatted down and got his head on my knees.
./5.