Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 WILD TOBY versus THE WORLD THE stockmen in the out-station hut kept looking at the sun and been here by the noon with the stores,' they repeated to one another. Supply day was a most important occasion for the men who tended the stock in the lonely Dawson River district, 200 miles due west of Maryborough. Queens land, in the 1880s. It meant fresh food, tobacco, and rum. Late in the afternoon, the store wagon still hadn't turned up. 'We'll ride towards the homestead while it's light. ' decided the stockmen. 'Maybe the wagon has broken down.' The men had a ride. The men had a long ride. They were within a mile of the homestead when they found what they sought. 'My God, look at this.' shouted the leading horse man. Sprawled side by side were a dead horse and the storeman. 'Look at his head. Toma hawk wounds! He's been speared through the back, too. You know what this means!' 'Wild Toby!' muttered someone. The riders all nodded. WILD Toby was the terror of the district. He was a giant aborigi nal outlaw in whom was blended the cold savagery Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (2) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 savagery of a headhunter, the en durance of a champion athlete, the cunning of a bush rat, and a deadly hatred of all living crea tures. He had worked for a year or so on a Dawson River property until he had been caught stealing and sacked. The dismissal touched off a madness in his brain. Taking to the bush, he be came a lone wolf preying on the white man, his goods and chattels. By night he plundered homesteads, stealing in particular whisky and to bacco. He found grim pleasure in spearing sheep and cattle. Many times police and stockmen tried to track him, but they were always outwitted. Wild Toby could cover 30 miles of rough country on foot in one night. After the brutal murder of the storeman he vanished. At leant it was accepted that he had, for raids on local homesteads abruptly ceased, and stock were no longer found In the morn ings with spears through their hearts. 'We've scared him out at last, thank heaven,' the settlers rejoiced. For eight months there was peace round the Dawson River, until the morning the 12 year-old daughter of a squatter came galloping into the home paddock screaming. When her parents had calmed her, she gasped out the story of a lucky escape. She had been out riding and had reined in her horse near some wild flowers she wished to pick. As she had prepared to dismount, a giant black fellow had leaped from the scrub and tried to knock her from the saddle. 'I cut him across the face with my riding crop and galloped away,' she said. 'So he's back and he's after white women now, is he,' said the father grimly. 'Well have to catch him this time. No woman will be safe alone until we get him.' Police had no trouble in raising a big crowd of Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (3) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 horsemen, and the hunt was on. Like all the other attempts to catch Wild Toby, it was unsuccessful. Slipping through the cordon. Toby scouted a lonely homestead. There were no men about except an old, bent man working in the garden. A young woman moved in and out of the house. Wild Toby knew how white men treasured their 'gins.' He knew they would rather lose everything they possessed than see their women injured in any way. Like a shadow he crept on to the verandah and into the homestead. The crippled gardener happened to glance up and saw a giant black running swiftly away from the house with the boss's wife of six weeks over his mighty shoulders. The old man shouted as loudly as he could. His cries were useless, as the boss and his stockmen were out mustering cattle. Slowly and painfully the cripple caught a horse, adjusted saddle and bridle and rode to spread Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (4) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 the alarm. Every man in the dis- trict saddled up when the news went round. Somewhere in the scrub Wild Toby had a young white woman at his mercy. The least the riders ex pected was to find the girl dead. They were afraid to think any further. For a day and a night Wild Toby maltreated the young wife shockingly, then left her semi-con scious in the scrub where the searchers found her. One of the most thorough man hunts in Australian history fol lowed. Groups of horsemen scoured vast areas. Three weeks passed and Wild Toby was still unsighted. Then the keen eye of young Mounted Constable James Edwards saw a bush move. He galloped forward. Wild Toby broke from cover and ran. When the trooper drew near, the black turned quickly and hurled a spear, his only weapon. It just missed the rider, who closed in and dropped the racing black with a blow from his pistol butt. Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (5) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 Members of the con stable's party had ideas on how the captive should be treated. But the officer insisted that the killer had to be taken in and formally tried for his crimes. 'It's more than a day's ride to the nearest police station at Taroom,' said Constable Edwards, 'and I'm all in. I'll have to find some place to keep him for the night.' One of the riders had an idea. 'There's a cellar at the homestead over yonder that would make a good lock-up,' he suggested. Edwards took his prisoner to the near-by property and inspected the cellar. It was ideal— 18 ft. long, 8 ft. 'deep, and lined and roofed with great squared logs. 'He couldn't possibly es cape from there.' decided the officer. 'But I wont take any risks. I'll chain him to the logs.' Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (6) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 Quietly the giant abori ginal squatted in a corner while the chains were care fully adjusted. 'Sure you don't want someone to stand guard?' asked one of the search party. Constable Edwards shook his head. 'He'd have to take the cellar with him. We can all have a good sleep,' he said. Wild Toby didn't sleep. Immediately the cellar door slammed shut, he began testing his chains. He continued to strain doggedly until he felt a link giving. Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (7) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 Heartened, he increased his efforts until the link parted. He was free to move round the cellar. Carefully he tested the door. It was solid. In the darkness he shuffled round the walls, putting his shoulder against the great squared logs that lined them. A log moved slightly. For hours he worked at it until it came free. He could feel the earth wall. Into this he dug steadily, mak ing an upward passage. Next morning. Constable Edwards opened the cel lar door to inspect his prisoner. 'He's gone.' he yelled. Wild Toby had achieved the seemingly impossible. Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (8) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 The search was on all over again. A report reached the police that the wanted man, or someone like him, had been seen near Juan dah Station. Sergeant William Wright, Constable James Dwyer, and a black - tracker, all from Taroom, rode out to investigate. They found nothing. After making camp one evening, the officers dis cussed the position. 'We've been travelling south-east for a long time,' said Sgt. Wright, 'and I've a feeling we've overdone it. I don't think Wild Toby could have come this far.' 'Don't underestimate the beggar,' argued Constable Dwyer. 'He has prodi gious stamina which he employs with cunning. He may want you to reason as you are doing.' 'We're wasting time,' re torted the sergeant. Dwyer pulled out a map, and studied it. 'There's a creek a few miles further on. What about making that our south-east limit? There's just a chance that Wild Toby may have gone to it for water. If he did, we'd surely find his tracks on on the bank.' (Continued on Page 5) Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (9) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 BY GEORGE BLAIKIE Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (10) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 THE sergeant shrug ged. 'Oh well. We might as well try your idea. There's nothing to lose. We'll turn in now. Good night.' At dawn, the two officers and the blacktracker rode slowly towards the creek. Six miles short of their target, the blacktracker halted and pointed ex citedly into the air. 'Smoke from blackfellow fire,' he cried. The policemen stared hard. 'Hanged if I can see any thing, can you, Dwyer?' said Sergeant Wright. 'Not a thing,' replied Dwyer. The blacktracker insisted that he could see a thin column of smoke from a fire that must surely be close to the creek. 'We'll have to take his word for it,' said the ser geant. 'Well ride forward. Be ready for trouble in case we meet Wild Toby.' Further on, Dwyer ex claimed: 'I see the smoke now. It's from a blackfel low's fire, all right.' Sergeant Wright also sighted the slender column. Gradually the smoke dis appeared. Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (11) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 'Whoever it is is putting his fire out,' said the ser geant. 'Well have to hurry. We'll aim to hit the creek well away from the fire. Then we'll follow the bank up.' THE three men acted on this plan. Finally they sighted the fire that was now barely smoulder ing. Three long spears stood upright, their butts in the ground beside the embers. A heavy nulla nulla was close by. 'There he is.' hissed Constable Dwyer. About 50 yards from the fire stood the black giant. He seemed to be resting against the butt of a dead tree. 'He has no weapon with him.' whispered the ser geant. 'Thank heaven for that. We'll move round and get between him and his spears and nulla nulla, then we'll have him.' 'I'll take him,' said Dwyer eagerly. 'You two keep me covered.' Dwyer dismounted and drew his heavy service re volver. With a bushman's skill, he noiselessly placed himself between Wild Toby and the fire. 'Put your hands up, Wild Toby,' he shouted suddenly, levelling his pis tol. The aboriginal calmly looked towards him, show ing no surprise and mak ing no attempt to move. 'Come on, get them up,' snapped Dwyer, gesticulat ing. Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (12) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 Lazily the native obeyed. He looked a tremendous creature with his hands at full stretch above his head. The sergeant and the backtracker rode up and covered the prisoner, the white man with a pistol, the tracker with a rifle. 'I'll handcuff him while you keep him covered.' called Dwyer, moving in quickly. He held out the hand cuffs. Wild Toby lowered his arms. Then things happened quickly, The native suddenly drew his right foot out from beneath a covering of leaves. Gripped between the big and first toes was a tomahawk. In a split second he transferred the weapon to his right hand and buried it in Constable Dwyer's head. Sgt. Wright pumped four heavy slugs into Wild Toby in quick succession, scoring hits in chest and stomach. A white man would have gone down and stayed down from at least three of the wounds. Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (13) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 But the primitive black did not know he was a dying man. With a terri fic burst of speed he dashed past the dead con stable and got to his nulla nulla 50 yards away. Sergeant Wright galloped after him. Wild Toby hurled his nulla nulla. His aim was poor, but it was good enough to strike the officer in the hip and cripple him for life. Wright was almost un horsed by the hard blow. Wild Toby took advantage of the sergeant's plight to snatch a spear. Before he could throw it. Wright took a snap shot that struck the native in the jaw. Wild Toby crashed to the ground unconscious. Painfully Sergeant Wright dismounted and called his blacktracker. But the man, who like all aborigines had lived in understandable terror of Wild Toby, believing him superhuman, had de serted. Carefully Sergeant Wright examined the prone native, still afraid Mail (Adelaide, SA : 1912 - 1954), Saturday 22 December 1951, page 4 (14) National Library of Australia http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article55743095 of some new trick. The heart beat was very weak. Wild Toby had at last played out his reign of terror that gained him the reputation of the most savage native in Austra lian history. He died soon after wards. Constable Dwyer was buried on Juandah Sta tion. And the tomahawk that killed him is now one of the 'treasures' of the Police Museum in Bris bane. NEXT WEEK: 'Gilkes and the 'Blood hounds.' '