Chapter 11.3 – “The Scrapings of the Pot”

The Dangerfield Family Joseph and Margaret, and Alice Maud in front, Bessie, Harry, Charles, Lige, Howard at back and I think adopted daughter Ivy in front.

In 1877 Joseph Dangerfield 2 married Margaret Thoday the daughter of my great-great grandparents, Henry and Maria Thoday. They had children, William Charles, Alice Maud (my grandmother), Joseph Henry (Harry), Elizabeth Lilian, Elijah, twins Mary and Martha who died in infancy, Ivy an adopted daughter and and finally came Howard, or as he humorously described himself “The Scrapings of the Pot.” This is part 3 of Howard Dangerfield’s story.

1906 The Thoday family

“To fill in time between seed time and harvest, Dad took on a number of scrub rolling contracts which also provided finance necessary for keeping the farm as a going concern. Dad made two scrub rollers from scrub timber and brother Harry had left the Broken Hill mines and was now working on the farm and also driving a team in a scrub roller.

If you need a job to toughen you up and make you fit (and tired), I’d recommend an extended term of driving a team in a scrub roller. With rollers nine feet wide, we were doing 18 acres a day and that involved walking 18 miles a day over rolled scrub to drive the team. You can’t ride on a scrub roller and it’s quite easy to catch your toe under a projecting mallee stick and measure your length in the rolled scrub over which you had to walk. No, after the age of 14 years, I had to take life the hard way, but I guess it did make me physically fit.

“Here also I became proficient in driving teams at plowing, seed drilling and harvesting and all the jobs that are incidental to scrub farming. I said that Harry had arrived at the farm as a member of the work team and part-owner. Lige had to leave for health reasons and at the age of 22 years died of tuberculosis at the Tynte Street institute in North Adelaide, while being looked after there by the caretaker’s family. Yank had stayed at the farm for some months to help with the clearing, and I had the job of getting meals ready for the workers when they came in at mealtimes. On one occasion, I was a bit late with the meal and caught Yank in a bad mood. He scolded me over it and I of course answered back. ‘Who was he anyway?’ So says he – ‘If I was your father, I”d give you a thunnerin’ good hidin.’ Says I, ‘I guess if you were my father, I’d be silly enough to let you.’

“We had to cart the produce of the farm by wagon to Tumby Bay, our nearest Port. There was no railway in those days. Cummins didn’t even exist. So it was a trip of 19 miles each way to get anything from or take anything to Tumby Bay. Often I’d be left alone (but for the little dog Jack) while the others were on the trip to Tumby. One day, an emu with three chicks came out of the adjacent scrub to inspect the camp. Jack chased them up the road till the emu got sick of running and turned on the dog and chased him back home again. Jack came back faster than he went. On another occasion, after dark, he caught a mauling from a couple of dingoes that were prowling around the camp, but which quietly made off when I came out to see what the racket was all about.

“I had a close call from serious injury on another occasion. I had been to Tumby with Harry in the wagon and team. We were a couple of miles from home and Harry was in the back of the wagon asleep. I was driving. The lead horses were getting hungry and would stop now and then to nibble at the bushes beside the track. Yelling at them made little difference and they were out of my reach with the whip and they knew it. So I jumped off the wagon and whip in hand ran up beside the team and gave the leaders a cut with the whip. They made off at a trot. I made to jump on the footboard of the shafts as the wagon came level with me but my right foot slipped on the top of the footboard and my left went under it. I managed to grab the crank of the brake with my right hand and hang on with my right leg lying full length along the top of the footboard and and my left dangling between the footboard and the ground close to the front wheel of the wagon – in fact the tyre of the wheel touched my boot several times. Had my left foot been caught between the wheel and the ground as it so very nearly was several times, I would probably have been drawn underneath the wheels of the wagon. However, the noise made by the horse trotting and the bumping of the wagon woke Harry and he pulled the horses to a stop. Whew – that was a near thing!

“But when Lige died and because of his death, Mom became unsettled so Dad decided to sell the farm and come back to the civilized side of Spencer’s Gulf. In the meantime, the Lear family had arrived on the scrub block adjoining and as there was a large number of boys and girls in that family, I had plenty of company for the rest of our stay in Koppio. Our weekends were usually occupied in hunting wallabies, which abounded in the scrub at that time. We had three 22 rifles amongst us and so accounted for a number of wallabies and rabbits. Who would have thought at that time that wallabies would be in danger of complete extinction in that area but the general clearing of the scrub for cropping purposes accomplished just that, only that a few of those remaining were taken to Flinders Island to preserve to some extent that species of wallaby.

“While living at the farm at Koppio – one bright moonlight night, Harry and I, with some of the Lear family and some of the Laubes, also near neighbors, decided to do a bit of possum hunting. While moving among the gum trees in Francis Creek, we disturbed a possum on the ground which ran into a big gum tree with a large hollow butt, big enough for a black fellow and his dog to camp in. When I tell you that with us was Lear’s black kangaroo dog – Laube’s white kangaroo dog Tich, plus our small terrier and a shecat and a tomcat and they all followed the possum into the butt of the tree – can you imagine the noise that came out of that tree butt – 3 dogs, two cats and one possum. The possum didn’t have a chance, as he couldn’t get up high enough inside the tree butt to avoid those madly jumping kangaroo dogs. No, bedlam wasn’t in it with that lot. So, as the night was still young we decided to go to another creek about half a mile away and moon more possums. Do you know how to moon possums? Get under the tree with the moon in line with the branches, move about under the tree with the branches intervening between you and the moon. If the possum is on a branch he will be outlined by the moon when you get into the right position to line them up. But, while we were busy at this, the moon began to fail though it was a cloudless night, yes the moon was in full eclipse! So that ended mooning possums for that night! We put in the rest of the time around a campfire and a sing song.

“This little episode happened on the farm at Murray Bridge 1907. Harry and I were cutting spring backs in an area of rolled scrub. Becoming a bit arm-weary from swinging mallee slashers we decided on having a short rest in an open space and while there, noticed a little black ant tormenting a big bull ant. The black ant about 1/8 inch long had the bull ant (about one inch long and with a pair of nippers at his mouth like small crab claws) by hanging on to one of his rear legs. The bull ant couldn’t reach the little fellow as he was too far away from the nippers – what did he do? The big fellow climbed up a grass stalk and then well clear of the ground, could curve his body horizontally around the grass stalk and so get the small ant within the range of his nippers. He ended the little fellow by quickly nipping him in halves. My interest up till then was fully occupied watching the way the big ant met his difficulty when a blue stinger ant about 1/2 inch long, unknown to me had found its way inside my trouser leg and took a sample of the fleshy part of my calf. How quickly can one’s interests change! There and then I lost all interest in the black ant’s worries. I had worries of my own, but I soon did much the same to that stinger as the bull ant did to his tormentor. But I guess the aftermath of the stinger ant’s endeavor lasted longer than did that of the little black ant. I could vouch for that.

“For relaxation in farm days, Harry and I played football and cricket at Pinnaroo and at Parilla Well. But later, as we could not well be spared from the farm together, Harry concentrated on cricket as he was better at it than I. I followed football and did well enough at it to become the captain of three different teams. I helped to inaugurate the Parilla Well team, captain it before returning to the Pinnaroo team after the farm was sold. Down the years lucky enough to collect 5 gold medals for different aspects of the game, but in those days I just lived for football and really dreaded that time when I would be too old to take part in it. That from now is an old, old story. But after marriage and while on the farm, Tol and I joined the Parilla Tennis club and amused ourselves at weekends at tennis. It needed some such an interest to make a break from farm work especially with 30 horses to feed. But I rode horseback from the farm to Lameroo, 25 miles each way, many times, just to play football. Nothing to eat from the time I left home at 8 o’clock in the morning till I got back around 10.30 at night. Shows the extent of my love for the game – but it was a game in those days, not big business as it is now.

“But now a buyer had been found for the property and we moved out after an occupation of three years and three months, after an auction sale of all stock and machinery. While there I had managed to collect a varied assortment of pets including one possum which proved a cute little cove, and which after a night out, used to like to crawl into the foot of my bed for his siesta. He grew up and transferred his residence to the thatched roof of the shed but finally disappeared. Also a Joey kangaroo which proved affectionate but died after a few weeks – a young magpie which was trodden on by a visitor’s saddle horse, and three young wild black ducks. They just up and died without being around very long. And some louse-bound neighbor must have handed a poison bait to little Jack and so he died in agony. We left Tumby Bay for Wallaroo in the steamer ‘Bullaro,’ which in after years was wrecked in the Broome area of Western Australia, having been caught in a hurricane there.

“And so we said farewell to Eyre Peninsula in February 1907, and stayed for a while in Adelaide, while Dad looked around for another farm. After a few weeks we located a place of 4,500 acres, seven miles east of Murray Bridge. This was owned by three separate persons but had not been surveyed for subdivision between the three. But we took possession after having put in an application to the Land Board for a transfer from the three persons to J & J.H. Dangerfield. The Board only transferred the third of the block held by Dr Russell and so we only received title to 1,500 acres and it was surveyed from east to west. In consequence the block we received was over four miles long and a little over half a mile wide, a very unsatisfactory deal. However we put in a crop on shares on an adjoining farm in 1907 but it proved a poor venture and only yielded about 1 bag per acre. We rolled some scrub on the transferred block but decided not to continue at Murray Bridge.

“Dad was able to find a buyer for the block and in 1908 took over a farm of 900 acres on shares with Hermann Koch, eight miles northwest of Pinnaroo. We used the same method of removing from Murray Bridge to Pinnaroo that we had adopted from Adelaide to Murray Bridge. Dad had bought a new 3-ton capacity horse trolly and five working horses and a saddle horse which had previously been a steeple chaser and he could move! We had stayed overnight at the hotel at Kanmantoo when moving to Murray Bridge, making our destination about midday the second day. We encountered a spell of very hot weather while moving from Murray Bridge to Pinnaroo and it took us five travelling days. We had a fair load on the lorry and the road from Muray Bridge to Peake was rough limestone surface of mainly unmade road, enough to shake the devil out of anyone. From Peake is a dray of sandy upgrade to Jabuk at the top of the Marmon Jabuk Range. Another sandy section between Geranium and Wilkawatt then called the Picaninie Sands. Then beyond Lamaroo came a very bad section of some miles through scrubby range. Other sections were mainly marley flats which offered fair travelling. We left Murray Bridge with two young tomcats in the load on the lorry, but when we reached our first night camping site at Sherlock Bore, one was missing. The cat that went missing was a tabby we called Timothy the Silent – he begged by standing on his hind legs and catching hold of you with his front paws, but not making a sound. The other we called Paddy the Loud. He just sat on his haunches and yowled to make you take notice. Tim was the energetic good mouser type. Paddy preferred the comfortable life. He was black and white. He stayed with us all the way to Pinnaroo and was with us for some years. We reached Geranium Bore on the second day of the said journey. Something woke Dad just after midnight and he went out of the tent to find that all the horses with the exception of the saddle horse were missing. The night fortunately was bright moonlight and that enabled Dad, who was an experienced bushman, to track the horses while mounted on the saddle horse which fortunately did not get away. The horses had struck off straight northward through the scrub but had encountered scrub some miles on that was too thick to find their way through and there they had camped. So Dad was able to bring them back to the Bore just after daylight.

“We reached Pinnaroo on a Sunday morning, having travelled the last heavy section past Scrubby Well by travelling all through Saturday night in the cool of the night and having stayed all day Saturday in the shade of pine trees at Lameroo for the purpose of travelling through the night to avoid the heat of the day. I said we arrived at Pinnaroo on Sunday morning and on Monday a brush fire which had been burning back and forth in unoccupied scrub country north of the road suddenly turned south, fanned by a hot north wind, and crossed the road we had travelled over in wide strips right from Sherlock to Wilkawatt. One inexperienced man, culling spring backs on rolled scrub near Dingo Plain, was burned to death in the fire, possibly not knowing that he could have escaped on Dingo Plain. It’s well for us we were not travelling that road two days later than we did. We camped on a pine-clad rise where the Pinnaroo show grounds are located while planning out a routine for getting the new farm under way. 150 acres of scrub had been rolled and arrangements were made to roll a further 150 acres. There was no provision for water on the farm so it had to be carted from Parilla Well, an old station well which the Government had taken over and placed a 20-ft windmill there together with a 10,000 gallon tank for storage. A contract was let to build a four-roomed wood and iron house and a separate contract for a bore for water supply. And with shed building and stockyards, fowl houses, etc., the place was pretty busy for the first few months. Our first crop was planted in 1908 and for the next five years things went swimmingly – good seasons and consequent good crops made it possible to buy out the farm from H Koch according to the agreement at 50/- an acre. The next farm joining had also been taken over and we now had over 1800 acres to work on. All the land had been cleared and we had 600 acres under crop with the hopes of making a splash in 1914.

“What a setback after six bumper years, 1914 proved the worst drought ever known in South Australia. I had to go and work on a railway being built between Pinnaroo and Murrayville and many local farmers had to do likewise. Dad stayed on the farm and reaped the harvest – only 19 bags of wheat from that 600 acres that had been sown. That meant there was not enough grain to sow the next crop so more had to be bought to supply the deficiency. We had to increase our original number of working horses from five to thirty, partly by buying unbroken station horses from the far north of South Australia and those station brutes are not always friendly and we had a lot of breaking in to do. So much so that it got on my nerves to the extent that I was breaking-in horses in my sleep. So I decided to get away from horses for a time and went to Adelaide for a change of occupation. This happened in 1911 and 1912 and first quarter of 1913.

“So I inflicted myself upon brother Charlie and his wife at North Brighton and they were good enough to put up with me without demur. First I had a job at Brookside Orchards at Marion, owned by one Arthur Quick. Quick tempered too and there was a pair of us. So after a few months and an exchange of pleasantries with him one evening, I packed up and went there and then. Out of my experience there, I would advise anyone never to take a job where you must live on the premises. They hate you to take up any time sleeping and I was often kept up till midnight.

“So it was back to Charlie’s again. Shortly afterwards I obtained work at the Brighton Cement Works on a three shift basis, alternating weekly shifts of day, afternoon and night. But about 12 months of this came near to killing me through indigestion due to weekly changes of mealtimes due to the shift work and also the cement dust. I could cough up cement dust for months after leaving the job which I did when I had the chance of a job as mason’s laborer and worked for Maurice Haase on house building in Brighton Road for about 12 months. It was while living in Brighton that I met the girl who later became my life’s companion for over fifty-one years – a period far too short but made so by her sudden death from heart trouble just before she reached her 69th year. But she was a really good helpmeet in every respect. We were married at her mother’s home in Brighton and had straightway to go back to the Pinnaroo farm as my help was urgently required there as competent farm hands were hard to find, especially those who could handle farm machinery. So there was no honeymoon for us but I made Tol a promise that one day we would have a belated honeymoon with a trip along the Murray River in a paddle boat. But we had to wait 36 years for it.

“1914 which was our second year back on the farm proved disastrous. It was one of the worst drought years to hit South Australia. Dad had stayed on the farm to look after the stock and reap the crop. We had sown 600 acres to wheat and from this Dad was only able to reap 19 bags of wheat. Meanwhile Fred Arthur and I had to seek work elsewhere for that year and went on to the construction of the railway from Pinnaroo to Murrayville. We, with two other farmers who also had to seek the same kind of work, rented a house in Pinnaroo town, but our wives stayed on the various farms. So we menfolk would go back to the farms for the weekends – to get clean clothes and cooked foodstuffs to help through the ensuing week. Railway work was hard. Helping to load sleepers and rails onto trucks for transport to the rail head, then having arrived there to unload it all again in places handy for the plate-laying gang. I had some changes of employment while on this job.

“Cutting and drilling holes in railway rails, which were to be used on the inside of curves in the track. Also the job of fishing up. That consisted of joining the rails so the plate-layers laid them in place, by means of the fish plates provided for this purpose. Then for a time I was in the packing gang, packing the ballast under the sleepers at the direction of the ganger, to get the lines at the correct level and straightness. This job was the last word in monotony. Pack under one sleeper – pass on to the next ad infinitum. When one felt he’d been doing it for half a day, the watch would reveal he’d only been at it for an hour. I was glad to see the last of that job. The railway job lasted till Christmas of 1914, but next year and for another two years afterwards life passed back on the farm. In this time Sylvia and Doris had been born to us, Sylvia on January 3, 1914 and Doris, December 11, 1915. Then the farm was let on shares for two years and I and my family moved to Government Road, Croydon and I worked with the machinery department of the Farmers Union as a farm machinery expert. This consisted of building up farm machines at premises in Port Adelaide, at harvest time starting Big E harvesters on the crops of Farmers on York Peninsula. This latter was usually completed in time to get home again for Christmas. My method of locomotion on this job was by my own Indian Motorcycle, for which the company paid me quite an adequate allowance. Two years of this occupation and meantime eldest son Leonard was born and we returned to the farm at Pinnaroo and there remained till the farm was sold in 1920.

“Dad and Harry removed to a dairy farm on Gawler River and I bought a house on Main Street, Pinnaroo, and went to work at Bakewell’s garage. In the meantime, son Clifford had been born on October 22, 1919. And so I worked with Herb Bakewell and he sent me to Adelaide for two weeks to learn Oxy-welding as there was no one doing this type of work in Pinnaroo. So I became the first Oxy-welder in South Australia eastward of Tailem Bend and westward of Ouyen in Victoria. I stayed with Bakewell till he sold out to Nordhausen and for a little while after. But Nordhausen’s tantrums were too much for me and so I went with Imperial Pictures and at MC Symond’s expense qualified as a picture projectionist as, at this time, projectionists had to pass a test and be licensed.

“That was certainly a change in occupation from farming and building,” I exclaimed.

“It was, I grant you, but in those days I was prepared to take any work that was available. So, for a time I conducted a touring picture show for Imperial Pictures, travelling to Walpeup on the Pinnaroo to Ouyen railway and showing at various towns in between, showing in some on the outward journey and at others on the return journey. Then I would make off in the opposite direction, going to Tailem Bend, thence up the Paringa line as far as Meribah, calling at different towns on the way back from those shown on the way out. On some occasions I would go from Tailem Bend to Meningie or on other occasions to Callington and Nairne. These places were visited after I had changed from using the railway for transport because Symonds had bought a new Ford lorry for my use. This enabled me to coordinate my travelling times much better and was far more convenient than the railways. The drawback of this job was that I was only at home two weekends in a month and Tol was left with the looking after everything at home including the kids. When Cliff was taken ill and she had the worry of it on top of the rest of her worries, I decided it was too much to ask of her – so asked Symonds to get someone else to take the travelling show. This he did but without a lot of success. The new man had his projector drop off the load while on the Walpeup run and as it was still tied to the lorry, it was dragged for some distance and severely damaged. I had to send him my projector and get his and repair it in time to use it for the Pinnaroo show, for I kept on with the show in the Pinnaroo Institute. On another occasion, the new operator had a fire in the entrance lobby at Tailem Bend when he left his projector which he had positioned there while he attended to his engine outside. On another occasion he had the top spool of film jump off the projector while showing in the hall at Nairne and go bowling down the aisle and the local policeman saw it. That incident was due to inattention to the locking of the spool of film in position on the projector. Carelessness has no place in the occupation of the projectionist so it was inevitable that the travelling show be brought to an end.