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This article was published in 1967
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INSTITUTE OF INSPECTORS OF STOCK OF N.S.W. YEAR BOOK.
First Appointment
F. J. MADDEN, Retired Veterinary Inspector
At the outset, I am going to take you from here to the "Corner". The "Corner" is Tibooburra where I was fortunate enough to be appointed a long while ago, just on 52 years to the day, and that's a long time ago.
In 1915 my pals were accepted for the Army but I was rejected because of a bad knee, so I went to the Chief Veterinary Surgeon, Mr. S. T. D. Symons, told him I had qualified as a Stock Inspector in 1912 and asked him what he could give me to do. He said that Milparinka was vacant and I accepted the position.
Mr. Symons said, "All right, get yourself there." I asked, "How do you get there?", and his reply was, "When you get out there you will find what you have to do, so start by finding out how to get there."
In those days there was no direct communication between Sydney and Broken Hill, and I had to go via Melbourne and Adelaide. The day I left Sydney was the day on which the Sydney Cup was run. I had backed Scotch Artillery and he won. I left that night and was able to pay my second-class fare to Broken Hill, a distance of 1500 miles. Only for Scotch Artillery I would have had to hitchhike to Milparinka.
Three days later I arrived at Broken Hill, had a feed, met my colleague there George Johnston, one of the best of all Stock Inspectors and a brother of James Johnston who was later President of the Institute. I had three days with George who gave me the low-down on all the people in the "Corner" where I was going.
Eventually Saturday came and at mid-day I got on Cobb & Co.'s five-horse coach and left Broken Hill for the "Corner". We travelled north from Broken Hill through Mt. Gipps, Tarrawangee and Eulowrie with corn-fed horses and arrived at Fowler's Gap, 80 or 90 miles from Broken Hill, about two or three o'clock the following morning, where we met the coach from Tibooburra which had travelled down with grass-fed horses. The corn-fed horses returned with this coach to Broken Hill and we continued on with the grass-fed team.
We travelled all day Sunday, Sunday night and Monday and this vast country was terribly interesting. We jogged along about six miles per hour in 25- to 30-mile stages with meals at wayside hotels and changed the team at each place, but no stops to sleep, and only the one driver. I was the only passenger, so the driver and I took it in turns to drive or sleep.
Eventually we arrived at the Tibooburra Common Gate—it was only five miles from the town! This common was ten miles square where one ran a goat if one wanted milk. As we drove down from the gate, the driver told me all about everybody and everything; I suppose I looked a bit raw because he pulled up when a lot of kangaroos ran in front of the coach. When I asked him why, he said he thought I might want to chase them as most of the fellows up for the first time did. I know I looked a bit of a dope, but I didn't think I looked as bad as that, so decided I had better try and change all that. The first place of interest the driver pointed out after that was what he called the "Home for Incurables". which turned out to be the cemetery.
I was amazed when we drove into the town. It was a really good season and there wasn't much sand in the main and only street—only about six inches. There were some sizeable buildings, some really good stone ones, three hotels, two stores and the inevitable Chinese store. A Chinaman in a store in a country town was a good indication that the town was a prosperous one. The coach pulled up at the Post Office and the reception committee of two—Mrs. Best, who kept the small hotel, and the Chinaman—were there to welcome the new "tickie" as the Stock Inspector was called. I was the new "tickie". Mrs. Best was a typical Irishwoman with the full top lip so often depicted in pictures. They welcomed me and hoped I would have a pleasant stay. I got accommodation at Mrs. Best's hotel and then set out to see the town.
The town was established not because of the pastoral industry but as a result of a mining boom and at one stage there were 5000 people in it. When I took a census from Mrs. Best next morning I found there were 33 adults and 40 children in this little town of Tibooburra. The office was in the Court House and my predecessor was there to hand over the keys, and it was quite a ceremony. He was so pleased to be getting away that he couldn't hand them over quickly enough. All he said was, "Well there they are. You know what you can do with them!" From then on I found my feet and commenced to live my seven years amongst those great people of the "Corner".
The town consisted of the inspector of stock; that position was sort of king of the "Corner". There were the two policemen a sergeant and a trooper and the schoolteacher. In Queensland, over the border, they had a Rabbit Control Board that had check fences running from the Queensland-N.S.W. border north, to stop the inflow of the rabbits. They had inspectors and they were domiciled in Tibooburra. As far as Tibooburra was concerned, the people that lived in the town and in the district, other than the ones I have just mentioned, didn't even know where Sydney was. They spoke of going to the city, and I said, "Where did you stay in Sydney?", and they said, "Sydney? Where's that?" All the transport, mail and trade went to and from Adelaide via Broken Hill and consequently nobody knew anything about Sydney.
The Board headquarters were at Milparinka, 25 miles south. That was where the Secretary of the Board lived; the Stock Inspector lived at Tibooburra because it was closer to the border and the main work was on the border. There were three gates, Warrie, Wompa and Adelaide. Adelaide gate was about 75 miles, the others were less. It was at these crossing places where the most important work was carried out, because Queensland at that south-western corner was all cattle country, and in this day, 50-odd years ago, the control of pleuro-pneumonia in Queensland was negligible. They had an outbreak. They inoculated certainly, but did nothing further; never shot out. At the end of 60 days they lifted quarantine and away went the cattle, and all those that could not travel dropped by the wayside. Those that only had a small lesion and were able to throw off the fever effects, became carriers, and you can imagine what a mob of Queensland cattle in those days meant to a Stock Inspector. They were like a smouldering volcano.
Owners wishing to cross cattle had to give seven days' notice at least that they were going to present their cattle for inspection, and they were inspected at the border gate. The mobs were of anything from 400 to 700 and the drovers would never tell anything. They would never bring a sick bullock to the gate if they could spot him. They got him out before one got to the gate. They gave the inspector a horse to ride to make the inspection. I was not a champion horseman by any means, and I had not done much riding for the time I was in Sydney for four or five years, consequently I was a bit out of form. However, I was not a bad horseman, but I was not a champion. I knew my way out of every good make of saddle that was ever made, but after a few falls one managed to stay on top.
The first trip to Adelaide Gate was done with a buggy and pair. (On other work I frequently used a saddle horse and a couple of other horses with a pack on.) The young police trooper had not been to Adelaide Gate as he was also new, and the sergeant thought it was a good opportunity for him to come with me. I had not been to Adelaide Gate because I had only been there about a week. It was a case of the blind leading the blind. So we started out and the first night we got to a station homestead about 50 miles out, a place called "Connulpie". There was an overseer there, a couple of stockmen, and a cook. The trooper and I stayed with them that night. The next morning we set out to the gate. The cook gave us direct instructions how to get there. He said, "You go along there about three miles. Follow that track, turn through the gate to your left, go through the lignum swamp-about two miles wide and when you get out the other side of the lignum swamp, you will find two tracks, one bearing that way and one bearing that way, but you follow the most worn track. You can't miss it." When we got to there, one track had two wheel marks and the other had one. I said to the trooper, "What do you think? Which one?"; and he said, "The well-worn track." I said, "But that is going north-east." He said, "But that is what the cook said."
Anyhow, stupidly, instead of going direct north, I bowed to his opinion and worked north-east. We travelled for about 1½ to two hours, all sand hills, and a terribly hot day. The horses started to show this, and all the time I knew we were going wrong. However, we met a "dogger" who put us right and we turned north to the gate and found the cattle. The drover in charge, Black Charlie they called him, was through the gate about two miles, where he should not have been, and I asked him why, and he said he always came through the gate, and I said, "All right, well, from now on you must not come through the gate. You stay there there, because these cattle have to be seen on the other side."
We took the cattle back, and he had 500-odd in the mob. He gave me a chestnut to ride, and a flighty cow he was too. I sneaked on him and handled him very carefully. I did the cattle. I rode along the wing, and came back about ten bullocks in and rode that from one end to the other, did that side, and rode back the other way, did that side, and, by the time one got through the mob, one found that one had not missed many cattle. This time I took out 14 suspects (actino and T.B.), checked the papers for earmarks and brands. Earmarks in Queensland are legal. Check their earmarks, check their brands, and identify the cattle, issue N.S.W. travelling papers, count them through and that was how one did one's Queensland inspections.
The country out there was varied. It was mostly sandhills with big tracts of gibber saltbush country, and there were small depressions, called melon holes. In these melon holes, some of which were the size of this room, grew beautiful grasses. Of the grasses that grew out there, the Mitchell grass would be in my opinion the best indigenous grass ever. The Mitchell grass that grew out there not the Mitchell grass that grows around Moree and the middle west—the real dinkum Mitchell grass, grew to about three feet tall, with a small ear on it like wheat, and from the time it appeared to the time it disappeared after maturity, it was always good feed. A smaller grass called Flinders grass also grew which was a very good fattening grass, and then a still smaller grass called Button grass, which was the best fattening grass ever.
The value of those feeds I mentioned was so good that on one occasion I saw them sinking a tank with horses. The tank was roughly about 75 yards long by 50 feet wide and 20 feet deep; they had a three-in-one batter because horses can't go any steeper than that. They would go out in the morning and bring the horses in before daylight; they would be harnessed in and commence work after breakfast which would be just at daylight. They would work all day and those horses were on Mitchell grass only. They had coats on them like satin, and looked just as fit as horses at Randwick in the stables. It was obviously the most magnificent grass.
The carrying capacity out there ranged from about one sheep to 16 acres. The best property was saltbush country, called "Warratta". It was carrying a sheep to 12 acres. An average then from one to 16, 18, 20 or 24, until one got out into the channel country and when one got out on the eastern side, below Connulpie, between Connulpie and Salisbury, it was 250 acres to the sheep. So it was pretty light.
The biggest holding was a place called "Morden", which was 11 million acres. The owner, a chap named Daskein (who was chairman of the Board), had put together six holdings and run them all as one. It is a pretty big area. In 1917 they shore 120,000 sheep and the wethers were weighing 120 lb. The wethers cut 16 lb. and the ewes 12 lb. They cut 4400 bales of wool. In addition to the 120,000 sheep. they ran about 10,000 head of cattle. The wool was broad, very strong wool. All the flocks were founded on South Australian blood, big and strong. They shore early of course, commencing about April. Warratta wool brought 1/- per lb. in 1918, and there was nobody sober in Tibooburra for a week celebrating the phenomenon. Most of the district made 8d. or 6d. They cut about 20 bales to the thousand sheep, and they got about £20 a bale for the wool.
In one season I put 44,000 bullocks across the three gates. That is a lot of bullocks, and it was in a good season. They were coming two or three weeks behind each other. They had to walk down to Cockburn, about 300 miles. They would be seen there by the inspector at Broken Hill, and get their papers and go into South Australia on down to be mostly sold in Adelaide. A few got through to Melbourne, but they all were railed from Cockburn. That was all before the days of motor transport. It is all so different today.
In drought times dingoes were a menace. They broke through the fence from Queensland and caused much trouble. In 1919 we paid for 1721 dogs. We usually paid for about 300. Wanaaring paid for 1200-odd. Broken Hill paid for 1000-odd, Wilcannia paid for about 1200-odd. They just came through in droves and I have not time to tell you all their tricks, but as regards cunning they would leave the fox for dead.
There was not a great variety of stock diseases to investigate, but when something did occur it was always on a grand scale. Balanitis appeared on one property and 5000 wethers were dealt with. Post-marking arthritis occurred in lambs on another property and it was estimated that 12,000 lambs were involved. Fortunately the mortality rate was low. Following the 1916 lamb drop, many hundreds of cases of urinary calculi occurred in the wether lambs. It was a good year and at lambing time there was a lush growth of herbage, mostly wild spinach and annual saltbush and the former was suspected of causing the trouble. There was no Veterinary Research Station to aid in confirming the diagnosis. Losses were fairly heavy.
I never saw an outbreak of "pleuro" all the time I was in Tibooburra, but this is not to say that the disease never occurred, but it certainly did not show up in any of the many thousands of cattle put through the gates. Quite a few cases of tuberculosis and actinomycosis were seen, but very few cases of cancer, and practically no cases of eye cancer-probably because all the cattle in that area in those days were Shorthorns.
There were no sheep lice in the Trans-Darling country in those days. The only sheep introduced were rams from South Australia. Owners never bought to replace losses but simply bred up again. Lice did not appear until improved transport facilities resulted in easy importation of sheep.
Losses due to weed poisoning did not occur in paddocked sheep or cattle but several heavy mortalities did occur in travelling mobs. In one case, almost 6000 sheep crossed at Adelaide Gate, and about half the mob were lost. Carcasses were scattered for miles along the stock route. At this time the cause was not known, but later Phyllanthus lacunarius was suspected as the cause of a heavy loss in cattle on the same stock route. Towards the end of 1918, the first year of a bad 21-year drought, a heavy growth of a plant about nine inches high which at first glance resembled Euphorbia drummondii, but close inspection showed no milky sap. Rabbits were dying of starvation everywhere but would not touch this plant.
A mob of JDI bullocks came through Adelaide Gate on to this plant.
Next morning two were dead and post-mortem examination revealed complete impaction of the omasum, liver inflamed and twice normal size, and the gall bladder as big as a football. The drover was warned as to trouble but he stated that the plant was good feed. Three days later he reported trouble and on investigation 40 were dead, 60 seriously ill, most of whom died, and the remaining 410 were all more or less affected. They were unable to travel and were held up for months. Following mobs avoided the plant as much as possible and losses were light.
Lotus australis caused trouble whenever travelling stock got on to a patch of it. It had a high HCN content and killed cattle in their tracks.
The latter half of 1916 and all 1917 were excellent seasons and there was a lush growth of trefoils, following the flooding of the Channel country. Cattle came from near and far for the feed and there was a vast amount of photosensitisation of the white-skinned areas of the cattle. Flies added to the trouble and there were many losses.
Horses occasionally developed blindness and/or impaction from eating paddy melons, and there was also a good deal of "sanding". In this condition horses ingested sand when grazing and this would lodge in the stomach, causing gastritis. It took a lot to shift it, and a croton oil mixture seemed to give the best results.
During the winter months the camel teams used to camp on the Common. Both sexes were used and when the male camels (not the females as in most species) were "in season", there was always trouble. Most mornings would see the "ghans" in asking for help as there would be numerous gaping wounds to repair. Apart from this, sick camels were never seen out there.
The climate was mostly hot and dry; in fact it was a case of nine months' summer every year. Temperatures were very frequently over the century mark. During one spell of 28 days the temperature was never below 98°F. day or night. The top reading was 125°F. at Warrie gate and on that day the birds were falling dead out of the trees. From January, 1918, to May, 1920, was a prolonged drought when only 274 points of rain fell in the whole time, and that fell in 19 separate falls.
In conclusion I would just like to say that I would gladly give anything to be able to relive those seven years in the Corner.