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--- 194512 [2013/09/04 11:44] – Gordon Smith sbw
+++ 194512 [2023/09/04 18:12] (current) – Moved Club Gossip to 194106 sbw
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-THE SYDNEY. BUSHWALKER
+=====The Sydney Bushwalker=====
-A Monthly Bulletin devoted to matters of interest to The Sydncy Bushwalkers, (at present), c/- Miss E. Garrad 8 Bond St. Sydney
-Jo.132 DECEMBER 1945 Price 6d.
+A Monthly Bulletin devoted to matters of interest to The Sydney Bushwalkers, (at present), c/- Miss E. Garrad 8 Bond St. Sydney
-Editor: R Kirkby Production:
-Assist@ Dorothy Brigden Assist, Yvonne Rolfe
+====No.132 December 1945 Price 6d.====
-Bus Manager Peggy Bransdon Sales Katb McKay
- CONTENTS & Subs: jean Harvey Page
+|**Editor**|R Kirkby|
+|**Assistant Editor**|Dorothy Brigden|
-Gordon   1
+|**Business Manager**|Peggy Bransdon|
-"Twenty Miles" 00 0010 M.Bacon 3
+|**Production**|Yvonne Rolfe|
-Rockclimbing in the Rain . 00 Paul Barnes 4
+|**Production Assistant**|Kath McKay|
-Night Must Fall 080 000 Prolix 6
+|**Sales & Subscriptions**|Jean Harvey|
-Night Vigil 0 00 Ron Knightley 7
-A Home, Sweet Home - 000 *00 Bill Mullins 9
+=====Contents=====
-Smile, Damn you, Smile 1,4I* 4** Les Harper 10
-Goodmans Advertisement 000 000 000 000 11
+| | |Page|
-News from the Boys . .. Geoff Parker &
+|Gordon| | 1|
- Rob Morrison 11
+|"Twenty Miles"|M. Bacon| 3|
-Wotcherthink? 000 000 0 000 13
+|Rockclimbing in the Rain|Paul Barnes| 4|
-Mr. F. Pallin Speaking 000 4100 000 000 14
+|Night Must Fall|Prolix| 6|
+|Night Vigil|Ron Knightley| 7|
+|A Home, Sweet Home|Bill Mullins| 9|
+|Smile, Damn you, Smile|Les Harper|10|
+|News from the Boys|Geoff Parker & Rob Morrison|11|
+|Wotcherthink?| |13|
+|Mr. F. Pallin Speaking| |14|
+|Club Gossip| |16|
+=====Advertisements=====
+|Bill Mullins| 9|
+|Goodmans|11|
 ===== Gordon Smith =====
-After months. of uncertainty the news that we feared has come through. Gordon died in Borneo in March this year. Many of those near him felt, perhaps, that he would not come back. We knew that he would be in the forefront in the face of danger and oppression.
+After months of uncertainty the news that we feared has come through. Gordon died in Borneo in March this year. Many of those near him felt, perhaps, that he would not come back. We knew that he would be in the forefront in the face of danger and oppression.
-Gordon would have hated a eulogy, so we shall give only a simple descripticn of him as he was known to his Clubmates.
+Gordon would have hated a eulogy, so we shall give only a simple description of him as he was known to his Clubmates.
 He started walking as a track walker in the NSW Walking Club which he joined in 1921. In 1922 he won the first of his many long distance championships. Before he enlisted he held nearly all the Australian long-distance records, including the 12 hour record (66 miles) and the 50 mile record (8 hrs 52min) and the 24 hour record (114 miles). He was a foundation member of the SBW, though even before this he had done some long road and bush walks. In 1929 he met Max Gentle on the mountains train and decided to go with him to attempt a traverse of the Gangerang. They were the first walkers to do this now popular trip and the pass from Kanangra Tops to the Gangerang is named after Gordon. In February 1931 these two were the first walkers to do the Colo, probably the roughest river in Australia.
@@ Line 40: / Line 52: @@
 To our clubmate, May Smith and his son Bruce, we extend our deepest sympathy.
-THE OFFICIAL "82".
+===== Twenty Miles =====
-By Stoddy Jun.
-In two detachments on the night of Friday, March 21st, six purposeful people set out for KatOomba, the starting point of many trips of note, this one proving no exception.
+By M. Bacon
-The Leader, Bill Hall, with Bill Whitney, sped down to Canons from the earlier train and they were safely tucked into bed before the second detachment arrived. Consisting of Tim Coffey, Reg Alder, Ron Baker and myself, Mob No.2 journeyed from Central in the narrow confines of a Guard Room at the extreme forward end of the train in company with five C.M.W's. During a lull tn the shouted conversation I introduced the subject of Packs and lightness thereof with reference in particular to my own. This gentle- feeler roused the manly chivalry of Tim, who proposed sending my pack back to Sydney with everyone's discarded nonessentials, and after sever censorship, my sadly depleted kit, consisting of pyjamas, sneakers, face cloth, two bars of chocolate and a piece of cake, was divided amongst the three boys.
-Alighting at Katoomba we shivered -our way to the Reservoirs in inky darkness lit by no friendly,star or benignant moon. Warmed up by then, we-put on pace downhill to the Devil's Hole. A few cold pin points of rain splashed maliciously down as we slipped and scrambled haphazard into that weird formation.
+Somewhere in the New England States of the USA is a stretch of railroad line, probably like hundreds of miles in the same area. It runs through long, softly curving, thickly Wooded hills, a pile of cumulus clouds beyond, on the foothills open flats lush with fodder. These green flats will be washed with yellow or gold. Yellow from the tall branching butter-cups, gold from the "paintbrush". The latter is like a dandelion on a tall thin stalk in yellow or orange-red. In the more moist spots, where the fragile iris seems to float over pale green sword-like leaves, is a pool of Blue. It has been a wet spring and so the iris is much better this year than usual.
-. As we passed the "Pub" Site there was some desultory talk of short cuts, but somehow we missed the beginnings of them and so went round the long way.
-All hills climbed at last, we swooped down into Green Gully and arrived to find Mrs. Carlon sitting up for us with tea on tap and large slices of scone loaf. Et puis, em lit.
+The hills give way to lower ground and fields, with shasta daisies thickly starring the pasture. Now comes a lake about 200 yards long with the whole of its edge an irregular border of glorious blue iris and behind this the green grass thickly peopled with yellow buttercups. Three wild ducks swing straight in line and paddle quietly away. They seem just right. Then the outlet of the lake slides over a weir and down and away to beyond.
-With the first faint appearance of dawn came murmurs from the verandah and it was time to get up. After a super-ooper breakfast we groaned our way up
-the hill and raced gaily down the other side into Cnrlon Creek. Floods have changed it and Breakfast Creek into Public Highway, and, believe-me, the nettles looked positively nettled to see us striding along unstung.
+Maple trees are in full green leaf. The same trees seen in the autumn with such glorious crimson and red colouring. The Virginia creeper still in festoons, but no longer scarlet is now cool green. Upright willows, elms and beech line the wandering river. Carpets of green ferns and dappled sunlight are under the trees.
-Does anyone really admire Breakfast Creek? We were all glad to see the Cox at last, stopping long enough for dips, then on again at a smart bat on the right bank. Bell birds and Whip birds carolled us on and we were able to keep to one side for some distance past the Black Dog Rock. We stopped for lunch between
-Moorilla and Moko Creeks and had refreshing swims there and in the Kowmung.
+Now comes a small town with white wooden homes, each with an elegant white porch in colonial style, the lawn of one merging with the lawn of the next. Clumps of huge peony roses, in crimson, rose, white or palest pink spring straight from the grass.
-After Cedar Creek the country was new-to me andwe made a number of river crossings through picturesque Kill's Defile.
-We were very lucky with the weather, which was sunny with a chill wind, and so we were never too hot despite the pace.
+We stop at a station. White clover, white shasta daisies and tiny pink and mauve ones carried on two-foot high stalks, all grow among the red clover, with soft grass plumes waving above them all. The buttercups and "paintbrushes" can barely fit into the spaces left.
-We saw some splendid horses and innumerable pigs of assorted sizes and
-considered putting one in our pocket en route. Conscience triumphed however, and we left the piggy ranks to forage undepleted.
+The grass gets greener and a quick look out of the opposite window shows the line is skirting a lake. The far, tree-fringed shore is a layer of faintly stirring pastel greens, and now there is another field of blue iris and yellow buttercups - many thousands of blooms to the acre.
-- 4 -
-Opposite Moody's a new boarding house was in process of erection, and its owner informed us that he had just taken his wife down to McMahon's to cook our tea for us, Mrs Mac being in hospital. We asked him if his wife was a good cook and he said "Not bad", so we rdoubled our flagging efforts, passing a very pretty girl with no noticeable slackening of pace,. and presently came to the funny part of the trip. In the middle of the river about one mile from-Moody's a car was sitting with an obstinate expression on its face. Billy Ball was giving me a lift across on his shoulders and could hardly keep his balance as we were both laughing "fit to bust". Inside' the car a' fat man in shorts was seated, perfectly - dry and unamused and determined to remain both. He demanded assistance and four of the lads made the appearance of heaving hard at "thewheels with no result wh-tever. Thirty!-odd miles and suppressed mirth may have had something to do with it We left him to his fate and noticed as we passed out of sight he was still inside patiently keeping his tootsies dry.
+A soft clear pink dog rose has appeared and a new blue flower like lupin pikes two feet high, grows in thick clumps.
-The valley widened: out and we croSsed the river several times, having a final wash and brush up at the last rapids, Then up and over the till to McMahon's, very tired, warm with nettles, and absolutely ravenous.
-Mrs Smith, our substitute cook, was bustling round the kitchen, from which appetising aromas came floating forth. Presently a sumptuous repast was stacked before us and we needed no second bidding to commence plying knife and fork. Dinner was followed by a round of massage of sorts and we retired.
+The charm of the countryside is the rich greenness which is yet full of subtle changing colour as the minor flowers become visible. Everything seems to flourish and to really enjoy growing.
-For the first part of the night everyone squirmed with nettle stings and stiffness, and all dogs in Creation decided to voice their sorrows and fight out their long pent grievances, but about midnight silence reigned supreme and Tim was allowed to "oleaginously mutter" undisturbed in his corner of the verandah
-Morning came with the first sun's rays lighting up one headland and leaving all the others dim with purple haze, and the flat grass lands a misty straw-blond.-
+Just fancy being a train-line and being able to enjoy this always!!
-We made 4 lateish start after 'a good breakfast and set off somewhat uneasily along the track. Many were the wide beautiful vistas unfolded for us on every hand of level of undulating valley surrounded by sunlit sandstone cliffs or tree clad mountain ridges, Reg was dropping behind with his colour film gadget to his eye. Trees reflected in still waters;smooth plains of grass like "hair soft lifted by the winnowing wind"; one or two magnificient trees,ages old, left perhaps out of very respect for their hoary size....
-As we turned up the Wollondilly, we looked down to the Warragamba Gorge over fields of green corn and glimpses of shining river between attendant Casuarinas. On the hillsides the bracken was reflecting the sunlight like chain mail, and two headlands oddly resembling thatched roofs stood sentinel to the valley.
+----
-Now we came to bridges and open grids and better roads for cars but somewhat monotonous walking for feet, albeit opportunity for our eyes to take in the full beauty of that unparalleled valley, the Burragorang.
-It is a place that will always be beautiful, Man cannot ruin it, even
+Owing to post-war conditions will all those people who usually present the Editor at Christmastime with bottles of port, dressed turkeys, bags of oysters, premature Spring Onions, large pieces of brown paper and the latest in lexicons kindly say it with __contributions to the magazine__?
-though he flood that wide basin,wIlich is the wind's playground, because it is the surrounding hills which make its splendour, and if theyare to look down to a mirror instead of a golden dancing floor, they will remember and so will we.
+=====Rockclimbing In The Rain=====
-Bye and bye the stiffness wore away and we came to Bimlow, and partook of pears and apricots by the fingers'out-of -tins, just as a snack and because we were ahead of Dave's schedule. We -saw a row of Mugwumps on Bimlow verandah, wumps outward, but as we hove into view the mugs were thrust speculatively to the fore. Our pace slid up again to four M.P.H., and we deferred lunch one hour. Up hill now, and the knowle'ge that all-descents had to be reclimbed, but our pace was not affected. In fact we joyously swapped notes on our fitness and wondered that we felt so fresh. After a -16ng, descent with an eye to the panorama of Upper Burragorang with Bonum Pic upthrust into the blue distance, we reached the Nattai bridge and stopped for lunch. Not making tea:was a great help in keeping us up to and ahead. of schedule, and as we turned up the Nattai valley and climbed steadily our stiffness gradually and. imperceptibly returned.- Expectations of a weary road walk for the last 18 miles were being continually and delightfully disappointed, as we passed through leafy bushlands with sunny open spaces and glimpses of deep green pool's.'
-Just before Riley's Crossing we paused to read the inscription on a Small headstone beneath a perfectly grown Kurrajong tree. A small boy of seven had been drowned near there seventy-one years ago. Protected by that shapely old tree, planted to his memory, the marble surface bore simple wording which had defied time and weather.
+Paul Barnes.
-After Riley's CrOssifig w4-Made a steady ascent alongs. wonderful convict-built road in excellent condition, clinging most securely to the hillside, 'hung Over dizzying- drops into the de,nse tropical_green of the valley, which must have held some grand wateriafls,.because in no time at all the watercourse appeared with one last leap right at the roadside. That last dip contracted every6nals muscles a bit, but then, as we told one another 'cheerfully, there were only ten and a half miles to go.
-On through rising and dipping forest land we followed the track and came out on the road between The Oaks and Picton. Patter, patter, went our sneakers and we were confronted with an amazing change of scenery. Rolling tablelands sloped away from us in huge patches of cultivation, and dipped into melting distance. The sun's raysi gTadually becoming ,level, intensified the colour in everything -7 yellow of grass, green of tree and crop, red of wild briar, and the sudden enormous blueness of the overarching sky.
+(The author would be glad to learn whether the descent described has been accomplished before, also whether the point mentioned has ever beet named).
-"Down hill all the way and only a biscuit toss to Picton" was the slogan of the imoment,--.but there was still some uphill left. The Barnado Homes of Mowbray Park appeared, ideally,situated in a sa'tering fold of low hills, and we passed their old red brick Lodge gates with a wave to the Lodge Keeper's daughter.
-Bursts of song kept our_spirits. from flagging as the miles swept underfoot and when Picton was supposed to be two miles away it was still out of sight; and so it stayed behind a small hill right until we caught it by the tail and staggered thankfully into the milk bar to freeze our "innards" with "two milks straight."
+It was early in 1944 when we stood on the Hogsback Ridge, Narrow Neck, and looked south-east at the long point or headland jutting out into the valley of Cedar Creek. You may know this as the point which is immediately opposite Mount Solitary. We decided then that descent down it looked feasible, and that became our objective for 6-hour Weekend, 1945.
--6-
-Munching apples and bananas some time later we emerged to make a'precarious journey the last +. mile to. the station,: cominvon i in the same sudden last- minute unexpectedness peculiar to Picton and its possessions;
+Our party started out bright and early on Friday night with a taxi to the Explorers' Tree, whence, after some blundering on the numerous tracks which criss-cross the area, a dry camp was made on the extreme summit of Pulpit Hill. This proved not as cold as expected, in spite of its 3,450 feet.
-Many were the doleful pictures conjured u..pof what our condition would be at Central, but suffice it to say that we disembarked on our two overworked pins and managed not to appear inebriated. 7
-SPECIAL ANNOUNC NIEN T.
+Few people, as yet, seem to know of the way down off the Pulpit Hill, a neat piece of rockclimbing which has been rendered easier for amateurs by the insertion of iron spikes in crucial places. (Incidentally, who put the spikes there?). This descent was accomplished as an appetiser by our party before breakfast on Saturday morning.
-Our first DANCE of the seasons
-Please alter the details on your Social Programme to --
+Breakfast was a satisfying meal on Back Creek, and there followed a quiet day's walking via Megalong Creek and much rockhopping to a good camp spot a mile or so down the Cox.
-Time: Wednesday, 28th May, 1941, at 8 p m.
-Place: MACQUARIE LOUNGE, Phillip Street, Sydney (near Martin Place)
+Next day's programme comprised a sweltering walk up Six Foot Track and cross country to Mitchell's Creek, a very grim lunch washed down by four mugs of a vicious brew of 50:50 tea-coffee in stagnant water, then a cold, wet, and slippery ascent of Black Billy's Head in steady rain.
-Price: 3/6d per person.
-SEE YOU THERE:
+It was during one of these convenient rests, dignified by the pretext of admiring the view, that a small porcupine waddled along, and, quite unconcerned, would have waddled off again, had he not been stroked with a stick, when he began, with more enthusiasm than success, to dig himself in the rocky slopes of "Billy's".
-Doreen Helmrich
-Hon.SOciai Secretary.
+Once the top of the Head was reached we took a course through "Fools Paradise" to an early camp above the swamp, which later becomes the head of Mitchell's Creek. On account of the drizzling rain, and our "big day" ahead on the morrow, no time was lost in retiring for the night.
-PROGRESS REPORT OF OUR "SERVICES COMMITTEE".
-This committee, formed by the S.B.W., now ,has the support of the_ Trampers Club, the Rucksack Club, the.C.M.IfiWthe'ROVers:Ramblers and the Camp Fire Club, whose representatives -all assist in the work of collecting and posting
+[missing text]
-magazines, etc., to the various bushwalkeiv-whb 'areon service with the Navy, the A.I.F., or the R.A.A.F. T .
-The combined ,Committee is indebted to Paddy Pallin for the use of a room in which to conduct business. It meets the:i e on the 1st and 3rd Wednesdays and sorts, wraps and addresses the various packets.
+clad legs.
--
-So far the response to appeals for magazine stories, newspapers and reading matter generally has been better than the response to the Committee's other appeal, which is now repeated. Will members who have friends in the various Services lease se that Dunk has their correot address. At present the Committee is handicapped through lack of sufficient information.
+The actual descent of "Paul's Point" was made in three stages, and a mild hailstorm had, fittingly enough, just passed over as we commenced. First was a 30ft. drop, done "en rappel" with suitable lowering of packs on rope end. Next a 20 ft. portion with a slight, favourable incline, which could be done by "straight" rockclimbing technique without a rope. Lastly, a 50 ft. sheer drop done "en rappel", brought our four triumphant members to the top of the talus.
-And, photographers, please remember the boys overseas whenever you have any good photos. The Committee's funds are useless without your megatives.
-'NO THANKS !
+To reach Cedar Creek now entailed merely rockhopping, reminiscent of Korrowal Knife-edge, plus steep 50 degree slopes, somewhat like the foot of Black Jerry's Ridge. Soon Cedar Creek was crossed at the well-known cave, the steep pinch to the Ruined Castle saddle was surmounted, and track followed to the coalmine.
-I'D RATHER HAVE
-"PAD
+Were we satisfied with our efforts yet? Well, almost, but not quite. Just to finish off our climbing weekend, it was decided to climb out to the top via the Scenic Railway track and tunnel, a rise of some 1300 feet in 800 ft. We emerged, looking more like coalminers than bushwalkars, and proceeded to Katoomba for a clean-up and a hearty meal.
-SAYS
-BRIAN EARVEY
+=====Wings=====
-OF S.B.W.!
--0-
+J. E. McDougall.
-BUY "PADDYZADE" - IT'S BETTER MADE.
-FROM
+Never on earth\\
-F. A. PALLIN,
+Shall we know any rest\\
-.327 GEORGE STREET, SYDNEY. B3101.
+Who has borne in the night\\
--
+A wild bird in his breast
-INSIDE ENGLAND.
-by Ken Iredale.
+Ever he'll walk\\
-Five A.M., the old Jowett chugged along in the cold morning air with its cargo of three -- Norman, Clara and myself - and rucksacks. Skipton, Settle, then, turning along a country lane near Clapham, we soon found ourselves in a farmyard, where we parked our car and were introduced to our companions for the day - two men and a girl from Leeds-Cave'Club and a man and a girl from She ffielc exploring their first cave. We were gusts. getting details of the cave for a future trip with our own club.
+With the shadowy things\\
-As we were ecompartively weak party, it was felt that we could only explore the first part of the cave, for which we would have to carry between us 150 feet of heavy rope and two 30-ft. rope ladders. At 9.30 a m, we were only waiting for the Sheffield couple to change into old clothes as we had done, but soon realised it was their intention to stay as they were in immaculate slacks and pretty pullovers. Without further comment we set off up the fells and soon reached our cave, only a short distance from Gaping Ghyl, the deepest pot hole in England, where a stream disappears into a dark chasm hundreds of feet deep. Flood Exit, the cave we were to explore, communicates' by underground passages with Gaping Ghyl, and gives emergency exit in times of flood.
+While his ears hear no talk\\
-Fastening a 30-ft. rope to a boulder and using it as a hand rail, we slid down a scree slope to a vertical crack in the rock barely eight inches wide. Into this we were able to slide sideways, tauching ground about five feet below. After a violent struggle with the rock faces pressing fore and rear, we squeezed into a wider section of the chamber, taking care to avoid the apparently bottomless crack in the floor, and gradually becoming accustomed to the light provided by the torches on our headgear. We now tied one end of a rope to a convenient rook jammed across the crack, hurled the rest down the crack, and our leader began to descend, jamming his feet against one wall and his back against the other.
+For flutter of wings
-The problem was not to prevent too quick a descent but to find a place wide enough to descend at all, for the deeper the crack went the narrower it became. However, by working along the crack as well as down, the leader reached the bottom fifty feet below and our three novices, nervous but determined, were sent after him with the safeguard of a waist line. We managed to lower the ladders, after a struggle with projecting rocks which would get in the way, then, we followed, taking ropes with us. Norman and It being rock climbers, were expected to climb the crack on the return trip, taking up a rope with us to extricate the rest. We were now fairly comfortable, though a little wet from the constant drips, in a clay bottomed crack which soon became a tunnel as we went along, sometimes crawling sometimes walking erect, and winding in all directions but always descending gradually.
-There were few formations, the only one of note being a musical stalagmite, extending from floor to ceiling, upon which a tune could be played by tapping it at varing heights. We emerged into a large chamber with a high roof. Ahead our tunnel went along for some distance; on our left was a wide mud floor with a tool about a foot above it - a bedding plane. On the right a stream ran
+Life shall go over\\
--9-
+Like swans in the night\\
-through a gravel bed under a similar low roof, and we were given the alternative of crawling through the cold stream on our stomachs or being crushed between the gravel and the roof but keeping more or less dry. Choosing a half in and half out position, we did another wriggle and soon emerged in the bed of the stream with a high roof again. The passage now descended rapidly with cascades and waterfalls shining in the torch light and we had to use our rope ladders. Soon we stood on a rock ledge looking over a dark pit, the limit of our exploration without a much stronger party. Rocks thrown over here bounced once on the opposite side, then were heard to bounce down a long shoot until, after several seconds, there was silence again. From where we stood this shoot descends at an angle of 600, coming back beneath our feet and finishing in the passages of Gaping Ghyl.
+With a whisper of wonder\\
-Rather thoughtfully, we returned the way we had come, gathering up our gear as we went, for pothaIng is a strenuous sport, and the newcomers were by no means as fresh as when we started. There was the problem of the crack ahead of us,. too narrow for rope ladders; its ascent was dependant almost entirely on the strength of the people climbing it. Eventually we reached its foot and ate chocolate while we considered the problem. I was sent first and, with a little help from below, reached a position about 15ft. up where I could rest in comparative comfort while Norman followed, saved from some of the exhausting back and foot work up the wide crack with the help of my rope. After a rest with me he set off again, now in the narrow part of the crack, taking up my rope. After an exhausting struggle he reached the boulder jammed at the top of the crack, and rolled over into the chamber. Next I brought a third member of the party up to my ledge,then I set off up the crack, finding a position about 15ft. from the top where I could lean against one wall with my toes jammed in a crack on the opposite side. The two ladders were now tied together and onto the end of the roptixed at the top of the crack. With the three of us hauling and steering them clear of projections, we eventually got these to the top.
+and something of fright.
-Our next problem was the exhausted girl. Tied onto the end of the rope and with an extra hand line for her to haul on, we got her about 20ft, up, and there she hung, too exhausted to give us any help and wishing only to be lowered to a place where she could die in comfort. I was rapidly becoming cramped and not capable of giving much help, and all Norman could do was hold her from sliding. While he held on, I climbed the remaining fifteen feet, taking care to
-avoid her rope, and helped hold her for a few minutes while we both recovered our breath. Hauling together, we gradually got her nearer the top, though as she had not sufficient strength to prevent herself from swinging into the narrow part of the crack, her comfort was not increased by being scraped back and fore by the sharp rocks. At last she reached the boulder, but, to our horror, was discovered to be on the wrong side of the hand line, so that we could not haul her out, but must bring her out on the opposite side of the boulder. While Norman held the rope tightly, I bent over and took her round the waist, hauling her up feet first. Her trousers and blouse parted company but, fortunately for her, they did not come off entirely so she was saved from the indignity of a nude dive head first into the crack. With the help of Norman, who had now left the useless rope, I pulled her to safety and she lay exhausted in a corner. Dirty black hair covered an equally dirty face, and the lovely jumper and slacks were torn in a dozen places.
+Though he walks in still beauty\\
-i0--
+He nothing shall see\\
-By the time the rest of the party had joined us the girl was sufficienl recovered to be pushed up the remaining narrow crack into the fresh air and daylight again. An hour later we were all fairly clean once more in fresh clothes, and eating a huge tea in the farmhouse kitchen.
+Till two coins on his eyes\\
-I have often thought of the tired girl who sat opposite me, too weary to eat; I wonder whether her first pothole was also her last.
+Set the beating wings free.
-STOP PRESS.
+----
+We have no intention of telling those people not sufficiently to know already that the Club now meets regularly on Friday nights at the Ingersoll Hall right behind the Oxford Street Post Office.
+=====Night Must Fall=====
+By Prolix.
+The indisputable truth of the title has often been the cause of much concern to most walkers and to others, with the result that a hasty decision has to be made as to where to camp for the night.
+While well planned walks never suffer from such hasty decisions, I and, I am sorry to say, my walking companions find our trips occasionally far from being such models of efficiency.
+I can recall several doubtful campspots thrust upon me in the fast dwindling twilight and one in particular which occurred high in the mountains in the New England Ranges.
+Gordon and I were the actors in this drama. Typical of my most cherished form of walking, none of our camps broke up much before 10 a.m. This sin, so-called in walking circles, has much to commend it, though it frequently involvas one in schedule difficulties in new country.
+Under such circumstances we began the descent from Point Lookout down on to and along the nine mile ridge to Bellinger River which, according to advice, could easily be accomplished in one day. Accordingly we admired the views, took several photos but found ourselves still very far from the Bellinger by afternoon. Also our observations led us to the belief that we were off the track, as we found ourselves well below the top of the ridge and following an old well-defined track going downward along the side of the ridge. Suspicion grew as our calculations indicated we were only half way along and apparently descending to the jungle-covered upper Bellinger River - very nasty! Furthermore, gathering clouds carried out their designed purpose by wetting us and the jungle around.
+Stinging trees are uncomfortable at the best of times, but with approaching dusk and an overgrown track things were anything but pleasant. What to do? No obvious camp site and no waters!
+Following a side track (there seemed to be several in this area) in darkness and despair, some kind guardian angel (Gordon's or mine) guided us to shelter. Our torches proved it to be a blacksmith's bark-roofed lean-to complete with forge, anvil-block and some other sundries. Our relief knew no bounds. The roof was reasonably rainproof, cooking facilities suitable but sleeping accommodation definitely at a minimum. Note that this structure was built over a track on the steep slope of the ridge! It was apparently connected with the old antimony mine.
+I gathered some long grass from close by and softened the earth. Our
+[missing text]
+=====Night Vigil=====
+Ron Knightley.
+"The floods -rush high in the gully under\\
+And lightnings lash at the shrinking trees...."
+The floods rush high - folks, if you want excitement, just cast your eye down the "Leader" column of the Walks Programme until you reach the name of Lean Blumer - and that's the walk on which you'll get your thrills. For example, take our experience in Breakfast Creek Gorge on the night of a sweltering January day. The official walk it was, with Leon as the leader and Roy Davies, Doug. Johnstone and one, Bill Carter, as my companions.
+After the evening meal and a quiet hour's yarning and smoking, we went to bed at the fall of dusk with intentions of rising at 4.30 and leaving at 6 a.m. Some time later, I half-woke from slumber to become conscious of rain pelting down and an altercation between Leon and Bill. They were flashing their torches around and discussing the possibility of the creek rising and flooding the little bank in the bed of the gorge.
+"Oh, it'd take a cloud-burst on top to send this creek up, now," Bill argued.
+"Well, I dunno...," countered Leon, "this gorge is very restricted and we're only a couple of feet above the level of the creek-bed." Somehow, I favoured Bill for the sleeping bag was warm and I was drowsy. The flashing of torches on the gurgling creek continued; hypotheses waxed and waned and Leon complained, "I don't like that roar - listen to it!" I strained my half-conscious ears but the only sound was the pattering of the rain upon the trusty tent. Oh! go to sleep.
+Then suddenly, "Look! Look!" cried Leon in alarm. "Look at it now". I sat bolt upright and beheld in the concentrated gleam of the two torches, not a tiny rivulet, but a rushing torrent twenty feet wide! The creek had risen five feet in its initial wave and its nearer edge actually lapped the beginnings of our little bank. All at once I was wide awake and wham! out of the sleeping bag in two seconds flat! Wild movement followed on all sides - sleeping bags, boots, spare clothes went helter-skelter into the packs in a frenzied rush to beat the rising flood! We jammed stuff in everywhere and then went dashing madly out in the rain, gathering utensils from various rocks. Shouts and splashes from the lower tent announced that Roy and Doug, were packing up in six inches of water! The tents came down with a whoosh and were jammed, mud and all, into their respective owners' packs.
+We retreated to the base of the cliffs, ready for instant flight. Perched like a tribe of mountain goats upon the lower rocks, with the rain pelting our unprotected heads, we howled curses at the teeming elements and in between them surveyed our precarious position. Before us was the grassy moat, with the flood creeping inexorably on; behind us were the precipitous crags of the gorge; we couldn't go upstream and we couldn't go down. As we watched the water crept higher and higher - ugh! our former tent floor was just a racing pool of mud.
+The rain ceased. For an hour and half we marked the levels of the flood, inch by inch, upon a handy rock until at last, "Look, it's going down", someone observed. We soon decided, by consensus of opinion, to repitch the tents upon the drier portions of the bank and keep one man on watch all night against a recurrence of the flood.
+So the fire was built again - Bill doing a "wacko" job despite the saturated wood - and we drew matches for the order of the watch. At 12.20 we snoozed once again, safe in the knowledge that Bill would warn us in time for any future flood. It later transpired that he turned his toes to the fire and slept! At 1.30 he woke me and we sat quietly for a few minutes, sipping the very welcome cocoa he'd brewed from the flowing mud. Then after brief observations on the water and the news that the creek was still falling, I settled down to the hour's solitude. This, though looked forward to with some misgivings, proved to be not a time of irksome loneliness but one of those periods of peace which give a man time to analyse himself - lying by the glowing fire, calmly gazing into the flames, half-conscious of the rushing waters and the dim light flickering on the cliffs, with the calm, cool air and occasional appearance of the stars through the flying clouds, this was the setting for an hour of pensive muse.
+Though the waters continued to go down about two inches in the hour, the current was still strong and there was still the occasional choom! rumble, rumble, boomp! thump! rumble, rumble of boulders bashing their way along the floor of the torrent.
+Calm night, solitude and the warm fire. As I gazed, unseeing into the coals, there arose a vision of the barbaric savage crouched like me before his smoking fire; a fire which he worshipped but did not understand. Anything he did not understand he called a God and I wondered in that lonely hour if it was only the poor, unknowing savage who followed the same irrational course of reasoning. The Greeks, the Celts, the Vikings could not understand the sun, the moon, the thunder and the flood so they created a deity to each and every one of them to explain the workings of the world as acts of these Gods. One by one, man came to understand the secrets of the Universe and the ancestral divinities vanished in the fire of increasing knowledge. At last two final questions stood unanswered; the function of the Universe as a whole and the existence of intelligent beings in it. Following the reasoning that had been inherited down the ages, man conceived a God to create his Universe and explained the spectacle of life as an act of this one last God. And yet, was it in a God that the answer really lay? Through all the lonely hour's vigil the flood rushed on, beyond the power of man, even yet driven by something which we could not completely comprehend.
+"The moving finger writes, and having writ\\
+Moves on; nor all thy piety not wit\\
+Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,\\
+Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.
+=====New From The Boys=====
+====Geoff Parker - 31st August, 1945.====
+Since about last March I have had the job of Chief Engineer in one of the Army's Small Ships and why I didn't get into this game before, instead of the static job in the Anti-Aircraft I'm darned if I know. From the Bushwalkers point of view it is the Ants Pants, as we are travelling almost constantly, poking in and out of the most interesting places, and covering country that as Tourists would cost hundreds of pounds, instead of which the Army pay us to do it. Of course there is not much physical exercise about it, but I'm sure that other bushwalkers, particularly those who have been in the Infantry, will agree with me, that the Tropics are no place to go on a walkabout, except in certain selected localities, too many bities.
+However, whenever the opportunity offers, I get ashore and go on as long a walk as the occasion permits. Chiefly for the exercise, but also because I'm a born stickybeak and curious to see what is around the corner. Just the same I'm always glad to get back to the ship and into, or perhaps better said, out of decent clothes again. Ashore we always have to wear boots, gaiters, slacks and shirt, while on board we wear only shorts, and shoes while in the engine room.
+Although the war is practically over, (the wireless says it is over) I don't expect to be home for at the least twelve months, but during that time I expect to see a deuce of a lot more country, maybe Tokio?
+====Bob Morrison - 27th August 1945.====
+Greetings from the Isles of Spice! I forget whether I've written to you yet from the beautiful Balikpapan S.E.Borneo (lat. 116°50'E. long. 1°10'S - in case you don't know that already) and somehow I think not.
+What a different letter this will be to that one of mine, written to you mid-March, at Burleigh Heads, Queensland, and which you so kindly published in the S.B.W. About the only resemblance this place bears to Burleigh and environs is the "surf", much weaker here than at dear old Burleigh and much dirtier too - in fact, the other morning we went into an oil bath and there was hardly a ripple on the water.
+I didn't come in with the first landings, but 10 days later, when all the evidence left of the battering this place took was the huge shell and bomb craters, wrecked buildings, charred and smashed vegetation, spiked guns, remnants of pillboxes, dugouts and foxholes; twisted iron which had once been cars, trucks and bicycles and the all-pervading peculiar odour of the Japanese, which still exists here in spots despite the great amount of clearing up that we have been doing, along with the native population, but I've seen some minor engagements on my tours up front and been in one Jap air raid, moon before last.
+This must have been a great town before the war and I don't mean before we belted hell out of it for the Dutch applied the "scorched earth" policy here well and truly when they knew the Japs were coming down - yes, about £25,000,000 worth of damage, I'm told, and although our lads started plenty of oil fires and smashed what the Nips had re-built, it must have been nothing to the mess the Dutch left behind for the "yellow bellies".
+The homes here have been really beautiful, solidly built of brick and reinforced concrete, huge rooms, ceilings to 14 feet high and with stout woodwork and best quality fittings of all kinds. Tiles were in great prominence in kitchen and bathrooms and all of tip-top quality. The Dutch go in for a different type of bath to us; they have a tiled well raised about 3 feet above the floor and it seems they dip the water out of it and pour it over themselves - no lying down to it here.
+The balconies, verandahs and patios must have been things of beauty and convenient comfort and they, like the houses, have been built to see out a lifetime. Some buildings are guttered along he edge of the eaves, in the usual way, while a lot of them have no gutters or spouting, but rather an open drain directly under the roof edge, built right round the house, to carry off roof and ground water. I can see the point in such an idea, for it rains like old Harry here when
+[missing text]
+=====Wotsherthink?=====
+====Fierce Battles. Heavy Casualties Avoided.====
+Though most people Will, by now, be aware of the decision to change the night for the Club meeting back to Friday, we record it for the benefit of those who happily, or rather haply, live in distant places and visit us rarely. On the historic night last month, there was battle in the air but results were very disappointing. However as the door of the hall opened and revealed a fresh latecomer, it was interesting to watch the eyes of the "so-called" moderns and the "so-called" reactionaries appraise him as a possible addition to their voting strength.
+====Thanks.====
+Last month and also this month we have been able to publish some drawings, the work of Mary Ramsay, (wife of Tom), Denis Gittoes and our old friend Les Harper. We wish to thank the artists who are too modest to give on their work, any indication of their identity and also to hope that we shall be in a position to thank them again.
+====Watch for it.====
+We have received forward advice of the intended consideration of the possible production of a monumental work by Hilma Galliott on the life cycle of the cicada. This work would be based entirely upon her own extended observations used as an excuse for not doing any walking.
+====In Full Sail.====
+Doris Allden recently found time to dash home to Sydney for a few days. 'Tis whispered that she has lost condition which is hard to understand considering the number of farewell parties and Government Houses she has been patronising lately. Perhaps Doris is going to the extreme of leaving at least six cream puffs on the plate for manners.
+====Paging Dorothy Lamour.====
+Geoff. Higson is back with us in civilian clothes but if his pre-war suits fit him round the chest they must have been made of elastic. Geoff. will be Australia's chance to relegate Tarzan to the pigmy class.
+====Interested?====
+If you see us, we can tell you where there are two paddy-made packs for sale.
+====Did She Fall or was She Pushed?====
+Have __you__ ever earned the distinction of having maimed the whole of the female section of your official walk? No! you mouse. Douglas, whose real name we shall not reveal for the sake of secrecy, not only succeeded in putting the President's knee in mighty bad condition but also in expiring the leisurely pacemaker. Woman-hating carried to its logical confusion!
+To all we wish a very happy Christmas and, in order to cater for the whole club, we wish for a period of favourable weather from Kosciusko to Marble Bar where some walkers are sure to be going for the surfing season.
+=====Backyard Bushwalking=====
+"Come and see this locust coming out of his case" I shouted to the girls. "Cicada" corrected Jennifer, but she came nevertheless and we saw a miracle happen. After a series of convulsive back bending exercises the horny earth stained shell split revealing the insect beneath of opalescent green. Then was put on a demonstration which would make any walker jealous, a marvel of packing. We saw the unpacking of course and I am still wondering where it all came from. Finally the cicada emerged and rested after the pangs of birth whilst wings cleared and shell hardened. A lovely creature of the sunlight and air destined for a brief career of love life and laughter sipping daintily of the juices distilled by the trees, still clinging to its shabby prison garb worn during its many years incarceration in its subterranean dungeon.
+"There's your cicada" I said. "It's a green grocer!" said Jennifer.
+====Shop Hours.====
+Paddy is pleased to report that he is now open each day from 9 a.m. to 5.45 (12.30 Saturdays).
+====Stock.====
+Rucksacks (without frames) cape groundsheets and in good supply. Frame rucksacks occasionally available. Tents and sleeping bags still difficult.
+====Gadgets.====
+Pending the return of plastic or aluminium jars, Paddy has secured supplies of faxed paper jars with lids which can be washed and used several times.
+====Prices:====
+oz. 1d. each, 9d dozen
+oz. 1 1/2d. each, 1/3 dozen
+oz. 2d. each, 1/9 dozen
-On Thursday, 24th April, Merle Hamilton became ,Mrs. Ken Iredale, and these two members of the S.B.W. promptly started their married life in the best
-possible way - by going bushwalking. On behalf of all their Club-mates we wish Merle and Ken long life and happiness, in other words - "Good Camping";
-GOODMAN BROS. PHOTO SUPPLIES
-Hunter Street, City. (opp. Wynyard Entrance).
-Your photographs will be permanent records of lovely days spent in the bush. It is important that they should be done with care and understanding.
-We can offer both: Utmost care is being taken in developing your negatives,
-which in most cases could not be replaced if they, were spoiled. And we also
-have the understanding: the technical side as a matter of course; and --
-perhaps more important -- the understanding of those who love the bush and want to express its beauty in pictures.
-We do Developing, Contact Printing, Enlarging, Copying, Colouring, Mounting
-and Framing. We stock always fresh films of the best brands, and Papers Chemicals and Equipment for those who do their processing themselves.
-You will be interested in our big range of Still and Movie Cameras and Accessories.
-We give friendly, expert advice on all questions of photography.
-.1,1
-- 11 -
-LETTERS FROM THE LADS.
-Here are some extracts from a long letter Gcrdon Smith wrote to the "Tigers" from Malaya:-
-"The air-mail arrived today and I unexpectedly received a few letters. 0 Glad to have it as we are supposed to leave here to-day and most certainly will do so to-morrow.
-History repeats itself. More S.B.W. get lost at a Swimming Carnival. Wish I could be hitting the water just about now. That is the great drawback here. Don't forget I want the Easter Trip in full even if it takes two letters to do,it; the first Easter since 1926 that I haven't been on a walking trip. I'd
-'like to be going with the crowd. In due course you'll know what I did on those dates,
-We expected to leave here any time after breakfast but I am now sitting in the front seat of a truck while the clock strikes two. It is very hot and sticky while the chances of getting a shower are very small. I am anxious to be off as I am riding in the front seat with the transport driver and hope to see a lot of new country if we are going any distance. It is hard to say when we'll
-return or if we'll go somewhere new, so this may not be posted for a few days.
-If we do come back to this town I shall try to have a look over a couple of their
-mosques or temples.
-...This is a very disjointed, jumpy sort of letter but different
-things catch my eye and I write about them. Travelling vendors are of three types.
-Some carry their goods in two baskets supported by a lon5 cane pole which runs
-across the shoulders. They move at a short fast rate while the loads carried by some of the women in this fashion would surprise you. Another type pushes a
-small cart which can be stopped and used as a travelling shop should one wish to buy bananas, pineal:4)1es, etc, Then there is the travelling salesman who rides a
-bicycle with an enormous load on his carrier almost hiding him from view.
-....The military exercise was completed the next day but, while the
-rest of the troops returned to barracks, the section remained to do ten days
-reconnaissance work. We are camping half a mile from a small village. Population mostly Chinese. Two rivers join near the village. There are reputed to be crocodiles so, although slightly sceptical, will keep a good look out when I do any swimming. While we are here our work will consist mostly of examination of
-any tracks that hit the main road. We enter these two to a track complete with compass (for bearings), parangs (for obstacles) and one loaded rifle to pot a
-tiger occasionally. Regret to say that the only wild animals seen so far have been a couple of monkeys, a tortoise, a few small fish, a small animal like a
-weasel and a few water buffalo. I hope for better things. There is a small waterhole koo yards from camp where we bathe daily.
-....Life has been fairly humdrum although reconnaissance of the jungle
-tracks is all very similar to bushwalking and I have a couple of baths a day.
-There was a little eXcitement today. Just as we were preparing to leave after lunch a big black spider stung Harry Gibbons on the finger. After a ligature
--12 -
-had been applied and the puncture gashed, he was hurried back to camp. While an Indian doctor was stroking Harry's head and murmuring incantations, a snake crawled along the hut pole. I climbed half way up the side of the hut to crack him and at the second whack brought him down - fortunately outside, where an Indian administered the coup de grace. Forty inches long, six inches of poison, very thin and very deadly - death in one minute, so they say.
-Harry Gibbons was taken to hospital last night but returned this morning none the worse for his spider bite. Soon after breakfast Stan and I left camp with the intention of following a. side road to the river, thence continuing downstream until the main road crossed it, but we got amongst some thick jungle tangled trees and high grass - on the river bank, where we spent a very torrid hour fighting a way out into the open. There is a particular vine with fine teeth very close together which catch and rip the skin. It's worse than lawyer vines. A track brought us to the river, where we spent a pleasant hour swimming and lolling in the rather shallow water.
-....Followed a. track some 6,coo yards into the jungle taking over a hundred bearings. This was slow, rather tiring work, but our interest quickened when we saw the unmistakable footprints of an elephant. He had enormous feet - the pad being 20 inches in diameter,.. Here he had scrambled along the bank, there he had knocked down saplings quite obliterating the track, but although we saw signs for a couple of miles we were not fortunate enough to see the real animal. On our return journey a cobra slid away from our path.
-Orders to leave tomorrow. Rather sorry as the life suited me and long reconnaissances in the jungle were a pleasure rather than a job of work.
-Still it will be nice to get some letters after a fortnight and some clean clothes.
-.....Sorry I was not present to welcome the old Debert. As I said previously, this job should suit him perfectly and if he gets a chance to go abroad as well he will be in seventh heaven. Can well believe he looks well in his Air Force Uniform.
-I'd like to see Dot again and hear about all her experiences in N,Z I knew she'd climb Mt. Cook. I wonder. whether I shall ever, get the Shance.
-So the Re-Union comes and goes. I never did care mush for them but would have liked to have been there this time. This place is all right but will become monotonous and I shall hardly care to stay while the rest of the A.I.F. is fighting elsewhere. Of course it may come here,if there is little chance of activity we may be moved.
-So Tim won the canoe. While I think of it - if and when I come back it should be possible to canoe the Cox and its tributaries (on account of W. dam); while on walks they'd need special water-proof bags to cover rucksacks while swimming. Will spoil river flats but make some places more exciting. Can imagine what some of the trips will be like then. OH BOYS
-.....Up at 5.30 and did all my packing. For once we actually moved at the scheduled time - about 11 a m. Quite a pleasant drive to our new location
-- 13 -
-miles distant. _Are are about 400 -yards from -the sea and it won't be my 'fault if I don't get plenty ofvswimming. I have had no chance to look around yet but the surroundings seemed all right from the truck. Town 4 miles away. No pictures I'm afraid and Vm not sure about tennis facilities. Our quarters, of course, are not to be compared with the previous ones. It is a long hut with no doors
-) or windows but a wide Otrerhanging roof of laced palm leaves which leaves a space all the way round. Roof- high like -a tent.- Can't say much more till I look at everything. Had first swim before 'tea. Baths 50 yards long, water deep at high tide. Milky colour, hard to see the bottom. Slight roll against the beach, which is white sand inferior in appearance to Sydney beaches, but weather was very dull and may have spoiled effedt. Beach fringed with cocoanut palms. Several large bungalows near beach. Owners so far unknown.
-All for now.
-Gordon.
-Here is his adress for you, folks:-
-NX26819
-Private G. A. Smith. B/N Hqrs. 2/19th Batt, A.I.F. Abroad.
-=1,..............M1~a......M1111101
-UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT.
-and
-NOW OPEN EVERY EVENING (week-ends excepted) to serve you with
-GRILLS, or LIGHT MEALS, or DINNERS.
-Same chef; same food; but a 3-course meal for 1/6d, that's wartime economy'.
-so
-Eat at ANNE'S PANTRY
-Wynyard Arcade,
-off Hunter Street,
-Sydney.
-(Reprinted from "Wayfaring", Journal of the Melbourne Women's Walking Club, December 1940. Ed.)
-FOOT-GEAR THROUGH THE AGES.
-The history of footgear is very old and has many Interesting aspects, artistic, _symbolic and utilitarian.- It is of interest to walkers because they
-are usually concerned about their footgear and perhaps some of them have wondered
-what type of sandals, boots or shoes the ancients wore when they marched the long distances which history re'cords.
-When the world was young, the foot of the magnificient sun-gilded
-savage was flawless, his legs were btrong and stout as the bole of a palm and
-his feet, fleshy and fan-like, grasped rather than trod the earth. His toes were almost as prehensile as his fingers.
-Then as the world grew more civilised it began to adopt coverings for the feet. The most ancient type of which we have any record was the Egyptian
-Tab-teb or sandal, which consisted of plaited papyrus strip or hide secured by
-thongs.. But with the Egyptian woman, the: sandalwas very much more than merely protection for the feet. She regarded it as a very important ornament and so
-with its beautiful pigments which rivalled the plumage of the ibis and the parrot,
-its touches of Nubeen gold and all the other luxuries of effect, it became an indispensable weapon in the armour of the Egyptian girl. Thus briefly is indicated the artistic aspect which, of course, is a subject in itself.
-When the Egyptian woman dies, closing a life which has been an idyll in order to enter upon a second and even more idyllic life, she leaves behind her sandals, because when she is depicted in Egyptian portrayals of the other world, we notice that she is depicted without her sandals. There is a great deal of symbolism attached to the wearing and casting off of a sandal or sandals, but, as Kipling would say, that is another story.
-The Egyptians had a rather unpleasant habit of painting on the soles of their sandals the figure of an enemy whom they could thus insult every day by treading him underfoot. The Egyptian insult, however, was the Greek compliment, for the Greek, in proof of his affection, would carve the name of his beloved on the soles of his sandals so that wherever he trod he might leave a witness of his devotion to her.
-Leaving the symbolism of this subject, we now come to the utilitarian aspect. The Roman soldier wore sandals of leather Attached to strong soles, studded with hob-nails. They were strapped to his feet by means of strips of narrow leather about one inch apart across the instep and round the ankle with a
-perpendicular strip joining these and running from between the big toe and the
-second toe to the top horizontal strip. The sandal was thus firmly attached to the foot. Apparently there was no sock or other covering and the Roman soldier marched long distances in these sandals.
-Celtic British chieftans wore shoes of untanned hide with the hair inside; made in one piece, with a thong of hide to-lace the edges over the instep.
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-The women, when not bare-footed (which *as the prevailing custom) wore similar shoes drawn in at the ankle. With them, the wearing of the sandal was exceptional and, when worn, would have been imported from Rome.
-Sandals, shoes and boots were worn-by, the Romans and Greeks, but the sandal was the most commonly used. The sixth century marked the final transition ' from the sandal to the shoe.
-In ancient days (27 B.C. to A.D.400) peasants and sheperds in Europe wore shoes of thick felt and their legs were covered with pieces of coarse linen, tied under the knees and round the ankles. Another form of covering was long strips of hide wound round and round the legs like the modern puttee.
-The most primitive form of leg covering in use was a piece of hide wrapped round the, legs and secured with thongs arranged crosswise.
-About 800 A.D. the first form of sock came into existence. It was a kind of short hose made of cloth or leather, seamed up the side and cut to fit the foot and ankle at closely as. possible and yet sufficiently large to enable it to be drawn over the foot and heel.
-About this time there was also a_loose covering made of linen in the shape of a sock which was worn under a short boot or sandal of leather, and fastened by a series of straps and buckles. These straps were sometimes placed criss-cross and studded with metal.
-Prior to the 16th century, stockings were made of velvet or finest cloth called "hosau. As far as I can tell, it was not until the reign of Elizabeth of England that knitted stockings became known. The Queen was presented with a beautiful pair of silk knitted black stockings. 'Knitted stockings were introduced from Mantua, Italy. In 1564, a certain William Rider saw a pair of knit worsted stockings at an Italian merchant's shop in London. He borrowed them and 'having made a pair like unto them, presented the same to the Earle of Pembroke, which was the first pair of worsted stockings known to be knitted in England.' Nineteen years after, stocking of silk, worsted and other materials were common in England.
-There does not appear'to be any earlier reference than this to knitting in England. Originally, stockings were knitted in two pieces and sewn together. The word 'stocking' is Angro-Saxon in origin and means 'to stick' and is so called because it was 'stuck' or made with sticking pins now called knitting needles. It would appear from the Anglo-Saxon of the words 'stocking' and 'knit' that knitting had other than an Italian 'origin, but eVidence appears to be lacking in this tqqard.
-In:this short arUae it lots been-possiblW to..gte om2y a brieflautline of 'Foot-gear', but I hope it will suggest interesting by-paths of thought to be explored.
---Sybil Wingfield. (Member) 1
-- 16'-
-. FEDERATION NOTES.
-It is here - or almost - that Working Bee on May 10th and 11th at Maitland Bay. There is sure to be a good roll up because everyone so enjoyed the Working Bee arranged there last year by the Trustee! of Bouddi Natural Park that no one will want to miss out this year. By the way, don't forget, you are asked to provide your own axe, or mattock, or what-have you?
-OOOOO 000e040fie OOO SO*
-How well do YOU know the Platform Cave at Kanangra Walls? Can you immediately visualise the iudrip hole in the cave", the second cave along? That is where the Warrigals sank tne empty half drum to catch the drips on a ledge in the cave, not outside it. A "Drinking Water" notice having been prepared, it was taken to the Walls at Easter by a party of Y.M.4.A. Ramblers-on their first visit, but they failed to find the spot, so parked the, sign under a rock. Then along came the Federation Secretary, saw the notice, and searched for the sunken drum, but failed to discover it up on the inner ledge, so the notice, was not erected at Easter.
-OOOOOOOO
-In the March issue of their magazine, our young friends of the Camp Fire Club have summarised an article that appeared in the Bush Fires Advisory Committee's Booklet. We feel they have hit the nail on the head with a good, hard wallop when they say --
-"Most Bush Fires are man made and fire prevention is everybody's business -- not to be left to someone else to attend to."
-CLUB GOSSIP.
-On Sunday, 23rd March, 1941; Bertie and Evelyn Whillier welcomed a daughter. As everyone knows, all the best bushwalkers start by doing a Sunday walk, and we hope Lynette Dawn, Whillier will prove t3.sxcOption, Werdanratulate Bertie and Evelyn, and also wonder 7 is Lynette pawn the lass whom Jack Debert was so noisily searching that time at Re-Union?
-The rest of the news this month is matter of comings and goings'
-We are all delighted to see Dot English and Dorothy Hasluck back from New Zealand. Did you know that Ted. Dollimore has also returned to Sydney from the Land of the Silver Fern - "for the duration, in a war job". We wonder whether we shall see much of him, or whether he will join the property-owners at Otford. Arthur Austin and Bill Piggott having started it, Alister Menmuir and Harry Lee also purchased land and built week...enders there: -
-Evelyn Higinbotham was in the Club Room the other night jut brimming. with anticipations -She Jlas joined the staff of Burns Philp & Co. Lt& and starts work at Suva just as soon' as a ship canget her there. We'll be seeing you again, Evelyn, when you come to Sydney on leave in two or three years' time.
-Two other old members who have recently taken their family to fresh fields and pastures new are Joe and lath. Turner. Joe has a job in Armidale, so we wish the Turners "good camping" in New England, and holidays at re-union time.