Michael Bennett - Pathfinders: A history of Aboriginal trackers in NSW

MICHAEL BENNETT worked as an historian in native title from 2002 until 2017, preparing evidence and writing reports for claims throughout NSW. It was through conducting research for native title claims that he first realised the extent to which the NSW Police relied on trackers for their expert skill. He grew up in Dubbo, where he first learned of the exploits of Tracker Alec Riley.

A UNSW Press book

Published by

NewSouth Publishing

University of New South Wales Press Ltd

University of New South Wales

Sydney NSW 2052

AUSTRALIA

newsouthpublishing.com

Michael Bennett 2020

First published 2020

This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the publisher.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia

ISBN: 9781742236568 (paperback)

9781742244747 (ebook)

9781742249247 (ePDF)

Design Josephine Pajor-Markus

Cover design Dreamtime Creative

Cover images Mudgee tracker and policeman (Mudgee Historical Society); Tracker Tommy of Broken Hill, 1909 (University of Wollongong Archives, collection D82/7); background image of Brummagen Creek, where Tracker Riley worked (courtesy of Helmut Eder).

Maps Josephine Pajor-Markus

Every effort has been made to find descendants of the Mudgee tracker and Tracker Tommy pictured on the cover. The author and publisher welcome information in this regard.

All reasonable efforts were taken to obtain permission to use copyright material reproduced in this book, but in some cases copyright could not be traced. The author welcomes information in this regard.

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised that this book contains images and names of deceased people.

CONTENTS

To Mum and Dad

FOREWORD

T his books focus is Aboriginal trackers and the tribute it pays will be legendary for anyone who reads it. It is a testament to Michael Bennetts lifelong commitment to working with Aboriginal nations across Australia, assisting us in setting the records straight, giving truthful voice to those who had none and lifting the veils on Terra Incognita.

The pages you are about to turn will be hard to believe, let alone put down. My grandmothers renditions of the cheeky handsomeness of Ben Hall didnt include the sinister circumstances surrounding his execution-style slaying by police or the subsequent deaths of Trackers Dargin and Edwards, who bore witness to that.

Sadly, having worked at the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody (RCIADIC), each page turned for me had a familiar resonance, one that was hard to believe. It was during my time at RCIADIC that I came across the most powerful graffiti quote:

we understand your ignorance,

please understand our grief

But Michael captures the positive stories, too. My great grandfather, Tracker Alec Riley, who is featured within, passed away in 1970. I was seven years old and thats in my memorys reach; its not that long ago. The descendants of the many other Trackers featured in this book are part of my broader family and our relationships continue.

I met Michael in Dubbo, almost 20 years ago, in relation to native title. Michael was the native title historian and a local boy back home assisting many members of my extensive Aboriginal family, documenting our continued connection to country and kin. Many of those connections for Aboriginal families throughout NSW are evident in the book.

In late 1995 I returned to Dubbo determined to write about Trackers life. My cousin Michael Riley also returned in early 1996 to make a documentary we had both been researching various records over six years and applied for an opportunity with the ABC, who commissioned six 30-minute films by Aboriginal directors for the opening of the Sydney 2000 Olympics Dreaming festival. He was successful in being selected and the documentary Blacktracker was made.

Pathfinders extends the story even further, highlighting not just the phenomenal contribution of Alec Riley to tracking, but the many other Aboriginal men and women who used their traditional skills to save lives and solve crime.

Bernadette Riley

PROLOGUE

B roken Hill was not your usual town for an officer of the NSW Police. Certainly, there were common crimes to investigate, run-of-the-mill burglaries and assaults, but the mining economy exerted a strong influence on the nature of police work. Frequent industrial disputes (there were four major strikes between 1892 and 1920) thrust the police into the front line separating union members from the non-unionised labour brought in to keep the mines open. Vigilance and a thick skin was needed when standing between the warring sides and violence could quickly escalate.

An Aboriginal tracker known only as Tommy was a familiar Broken Hill character in the late 1800s and 1900s. From January 1892 to December 1910, Tommy worked for the Broken Hill Police. Much of his work was standard tracker fare, as we will see, but within six months of starting the job he was in the middle of a strike prompted by a bitter contract dispute between the unions and mine owners. As historian Geoffrey Blainey notes, the police were barely able to prevent violence from breaking out. An extra 50 police were called in July 1892, and Tommys job was to take the horse and cart and deliver bedding to the police camp. Striking miners thought the bedding was for their replacements brought in from Victoria (instead of scabs they were called black-legs) and directed abuse at Tommy until they realised that the police were the intended recipients. Tommy drove on, seemingly unperturbed but no doubt keeping close watch on the picket line, and the uneasy peace continued.

Almost two decades later, it was the opinion of another Aboriginal man that prompted Tommy to consider leaving the security of his police employment and join the ranks of the workers. The early months of 1909 in Broken Hill were fraught. Mine owners cut wages by 12 per cent after the price of lead plummeted. Riots flared during the 20 weeks in which miners were locked out of their jobs. In a tense climate, officers were sometimes assaulted. In late January, two constables were bashed after attempting to arrest a man suspected of attacking a coloured man with an iron bar. The following month Tommy ended up exchanging blows with another Aboriginal man, who accused him of being a black police perhaps a traitor. Tommy asked his colleagues to bring charges against his assailant but they refused his request. He resigned in protest, stating that he would never again drive the police cart to the mines, and attempted to join the Amalgamated Miners Association instead. Tired of standing against the miners, perhaps he thought he would be safer on their side of the fence, particularly after the police failed to support him. However, after reappraising his situation overnight, Tommy returned to police ranks in the morning.