Tragedy on the Turf

On 19 March 1906, the gold-mining township of Bulong celebrated St Patrick’s Day with an “exempted mixed sports meeting” that drew crowds to the local recreation reserve. What should have been a day of festive competition ended in a tragedy that exposed the “loose and incompetent” standards of early goldfields racing and led to a high-profile manslaughter trial in the Kalgoorlie Circuit Court.1 2 3

The day’s final event was the Forced Handicap. Albert James Windsor, a well-regarded 18-year-old jockey, was given the mount on a horse named Umber. Tensions were high before the start; Windsor reportedly told his stepfather and Umber’s owner, John Coen, that other jockeys had threatened him, saying, “They would settle me this time”. Windsor was so apprehensive that he unsuccessfully attempted to swap his starting position to the outside rail to avoid being “blocked”.4 5 6

Image generated using Nano Banana 2
Christine Harris (2026)

As the field turned into the straight, Philosopher and Little Katie led, with Umber trailing by two lengths. Umber made a spirited run on the inside, drawing level with the leaders near the post. Witnesses testified that the rider of Philosopher, Victor Perry, deliberately pulled his horse across the track to block Umber’s path. The interference was so severe that Umber was “wilfully bored” off the course and into the surrounding crowd. In the ensuing chaos, Umber fell, striking several spectators before rolling over Windsor.7 8

Windsor was rushed to Bulong Hospital and later transferred to Kalgoorlie. He had sustained a fractured spine, leaving his body paralysed below the waist. Despite his clear intellect until the end, his condition was hopeless; he succumbed to respiratory failure on 2 April 1906.9 10

Victor Perry, who had fled Bulong an hour after the race, was eventually arrested and charged with manslaughter. His trial opened in June 1906 before Mr Justice Burnside. The prosecution presented a damning case, including testimony from John Coen that Perry had offered to “pull” (deliberately lose) his horse earlier that day for a fee, which Coen had refused.11 12

Perry’s defence argued that the incident was a mere racing accident, claiming Philosopher had a “bad mouth” and had swerved naturally toward the rails. However, the jury was not convinced by the claim that a horse would naturally swerve nearly nine yards across a 35-foot track.13

On 22 June 1906, the jury returned a verdict of guilty. They added a “strong recommendation to mercy,” citing the “remarkably dangerous” nature of the Bulong course and the “general loose methods” of the meeting’s stewards. Justice Burnside, while acknowledging the jury’s recommendation, sentenced Perry to 12 months’ imprisonment with hard labour in Fremantle Gaol. He remarked that Perry had “deliberately infringed” the rules of sport to prevent a competitor from winning, resulting in a disastrous loss of life.14 15


Sources

  1. ALLEGED MANSLAUGHTER (1906, June 22). Coolgardie Miner (WA : 1894 – 1911), p. 4. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article218120555 ↩︎
  2. Wikipedia (2022). Bulong, Western Australia. Retrieved 18 Mar 2026 from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bulong,_Western_Australia ↩︎
  3. BULONG MANSLAUGHTER CASE. (1906, June 26). Kalgoorlie Western Argus (WA : 1896 – 1916), p. 12. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article33036171 ↩︎
  4. The Bulong Racing Fatality. (1906, May 1). Kalgoorlie Western Argus (WA : 1896 – 1916), p. 18. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article33034239 ↩︎
  5. Bulong Racing Fatality. (1906, April 12). The Kalgoorlie Miner (WA : 1895 – 1954), p. 6. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89619313 ↩︎
  6. Bulong Racing Fatality. (1906, April 11). The Kalgoorlie Miner (WA : 1895 – 1954), p. 6. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89626477 ↩︎
  7. MANSLAUGHTER (1906, April 11). The Evening Star (Boulder, WA : 1898 – 1921), p. 3 (SECOND EDITION). Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article204551063 ↩︎
  8. The Bulong Racing Fatality. (1906, May 1). Kalgoorlie Western Argus (WA : 1896 – 1916), p. 18. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article33034239 ↩︎
  9. ibid ↩︎
  10. Bulong Racing Fatality. (1906, April 11). The Kalgoorlie Miner (WA : 1895 – 1954), p. 6. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89626477 ↩︎
  11. The Bulong Racing Fatality. (1906, April 25). The Kalgoorlie Miner (WA : 1895 – 1954), p. 4. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89627506 ↩︎
  12. ALLEGED MANSLAUGHTER (1906, June 22). Coolgardie Miner (WA : 1894 – 1911), p. 4. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article218120555 ↩︎
  13. ibid ↩︎
  14. ibid ↩︎
  15. BULONG MANSLAUGHTER CASE. (1906, June 26). Kalgoorlie Western Argus (WA : 1896 – 1916), p. 12. Retrieved March 18, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article33036171 ↩︎

Voices Across the Wire

Editor’s Note: The source of the following article is an article in the North-Eastern Courier in 1938.1

For the residents of the Murchison and the North-Eastern wheatbelt in the 1930s, “distance” was more than just a measurement; it was a constant, looming threat. To be a prospector at the Payne’s Find goldfields or a pastoralist on a remote station meant living days away from medical help. However, on a Saturday afternoon in late July 1938, that gap was narrowed significantly with the official opening of the radio telephone service between Dalwallinu Hospital and Payne’s Find.

Wireless transmitter in the ante room of the Labour Ward, Dalwallinu Hospital, 19382

The event was treated with the gravity such a technological milestone deserved. The Minister for Health, Mr A. H. Panton, travelled from Perth to perform the opening honours. Accompanying him was a party of dignitaries, including Mr P. D. Ferguson, M.L.A., and officials from the Medical and Health Departments. The afternoon began with a sense of local hospitality, as the Chairman of the Dalwallinu Hospital Board, Mr W. H. Flynn, entertained the Ministerial party at lunch at the Dalwallinu Hotel before the proceedings moved to the hospital.

What makes this piece of local history so compelling is the evidence of grassroots determination. The service was not merely handed down by the government; it was a hard-won victory for the locals. The total cost of the sets exceeded £200, a significant sum during the tail end of the Depression, with £75 of that raised specifically at the Payne’s Find end.

Special credit was given to Mr A. F. Pipe, who spent a “vast amount of time” securing financial aid, and Dr C. W. Anderson, who had spent two years advocating for the wireless link. Minister Panton noted that the hospital tax money was being put to “good and legitimate use” to benefit such country areas, but it was clear that the heavy lifting had been done by the people themselves.

Before this link, a medical emergency at Payne’s Find required a physical messenger to travel long distances just to reach a telephone. Dr Anderson highlighted that the new service would be a “vast benefit” to those “outback who lack hospital and medical facilities”. Over the airwaves, the Minister explained that the radio would allow for immediate first-aid advice to be given by the doctor while a patient was being prepared for the arduous journey to Dalwallinu.

The day also saw the formal handing over of a new operating table to the hospital by the Wubin and Districts sub-branch of the R.S.L. Mr Jas. Day, representing the sub-branch, appealed to citizens to support Dr Anderson, whom he described as “second to none” in his care for the “sick and afflicted”.

The most poignant moment of the day occurred when the link was tested. Mr W. J. Green, the long-standing postmaster and pioneer of Payne’s Find, replied to the Minister “over the air” from the mining centre. Green, who had been instrumental in the project, spoke with pride about the district’s twenty-seven-year history, noting that it had produced thousands of pounds worth of gold and a “huge quantity of the highest quality wool”.

He also shared a rare moment of environmental optimism, reporting that beneficial rains had recently fallen, brightening the prospects for local pastoralists. The ceremony concluded on a personal note, with Mr J. C. Clark sending a “cheerio” over the air to Mr Eric Bouquet, the operator of the set at Payne’s Find.


  1. Radio Telephone (1938, August 5). North-Eastern Courier (Perth, WA : 1923 – 1955), p. 5. Retrieved April 3, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article257371150 ↩︎
  2. State Library of Western Australia (n.d.) Colin Warden Anderson collection of photographs; BA2076/46. Retrieved 3 Apr 2026 from https://encore.slwa.wa.gov.au/iii/encore/record/C__Rb4615670
    Notes:
    1. Wireless transmitter in ante room of Labour Ward, Dalwallinu Hospital. Built by W.E. Coxon. Call HUG reputed 50 watts output. Two receivers on R. Lower is 5 valve AWA receiver donated by Mr Green, Paynes Find.
    2. Original image damaged and unclear has been restored by Nano Banana 2 AI. ↩︎

Jane Mary Glass

There are moments that change history, and for the colony of Western Australia, one such moment occurred not in a boardroom or a parliament house, but at the lip of a muddy well on a remote pastoral station. In early 1887, a housewife named Jane Mary Glass made an accidental discovery that would ignite the Yilgarn gold rush and ultimately lead her colony toward the Federation of Australia. While her name is often overshadowed by the male prospectors who followed her, the story of Jane Glass is the true starting point of the Eastern Goldfields.1

Jane Mary Glass lived with her husband, Charles Glass Snr, at Mujakine station, located approximately 11 kilometres north-east of present-day Trayning. The Glasses were part of a tight-knit network of pioneering families who were pushing the boundaries of European settlement into the dry interior. Jane was closely connected to the Adams family of the famous Mangowine station; her brother-in-law (or relative) Charles Adams and his wife Jane had established their run in 1876, creating a social hub for the far-eastern district.2 3 4 5

Jane was a woman of significant family standing, later remembered by her many relatives as a “great aunt” who took immense pride in her role as a pioneer. In early 1887, the Glass family was preoccupied with the same struggle as every other settler in the Yilgarn: the desperate search for reliable water.6 7

The discovery itself was entirely serendipitous. Jane had discovered a drowned possum in the family well at Mujakine. Her son, Alex Glass, climbed down into the shaft to clean out the animal and deepen the well in hopes of reaching a better supply. As Alex scraped the mud from the bottom and filled a bucket, Jane hauled it to the surface.8 9

Jane and Alex clearing the well
as imagined by Nano Banana 2

While emptying the sludge, a glint caught her eye. Reaching into the mud, she pulled out a gold nugget. While others had found traces of gold in the South West previously, the location of this find, so far east, was a revelation. At the time, the government had offered a reward for the discovery of a payable goldfield near Perth, and the Glasses knew their lives were about to change. Jane and Charles Snr wasted no time, quickly preparing their horse and dray for the long journey to Perth to have the find officially verified. This trip became a victory lap for Jane. As they passed through the settlements of the Wheatbelt, she stopped to visit her numerous relatives, eagerly showing off the nugget. One anecdote recounts her exhorting the children of the family to look closely and always remember that it was their “great aunt” who had found the gold that would make the colony’s fortune.10

While Jane was the one with the keen eyes who spotted the treasure, the social and legal structures of 1887 meant the official recognition followed a different path. The government eventually awarded a £100 reward for the discovery of gold on the property, but it was paid to her husband, Charles Glass, rather than to Jane herself.

W.A. syndicate who discovered the Eastern Goldfields, Oct 1887
Charles Glass is shown bottom right. Jane is not mentioned.11

However, the impact of her find was immediate. The confirmation of her nugget prompted the Newcastle and Northam Settlers Association to commission prospectors to examine the area. This led directly to the formation of the first major prospecting syndicates, including the party of Harry Anstey, Dick Greaves, and Ted Payne, as well as their rival, Bernard Norbert Colreavy. By December 1887, Colreavy had discovered the Kathleen reef in Golden Valley, and the Yilgarn rush was officially underway.12 13

The historical significance of Jane Glass’s discovery cannot be overstated. The Yilgarn rush she sparked led directly to the discovery of Southern Cross, then Coolgardie, and finally the “Golden Mile” at Kalgoorlie. This massive influx of “t’Othersiders” (miners from the eastern colonies) shifted the political landscape of Western Australia. These new arrivals campaigned heavily for the colony to join the Australian Federation, a movement that might have failed without the economic boom triggered by Jane’s well.14

Today, the site of her discovery is marked by the White Man Rock Well. Although the well is now fenced and somewhat overgrown, it remains a monument to a housewife’s keen eyes and the moment a drowned possum helped build a state. Jane Mary Glass remains a foundational figure for local history and genealogy enthusiasts, representing the often-unseen women who were present at the very birth of the West Australian goldfields.

White Man Rock Well15

Source

  1. Sharp, Moya (2016) Golden Valley – The Early Days. Retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://www.outbackfamilyhistoryblog.com/golden-valley-by-kevin-moran/ ↩︎
  2. ibid ↩︎
  3. Explorers’ Wells and Tracks Project (n.d.) White Man Rock Well. Retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://wellsandtracks.com.au/wells/pioneer-wells/white-man-rock-well/ ↩︎
  4. Heritage Council of Western Australia (1996) Register of Heritage Places – Assessment : Southern Cross Post Office. p.3. Retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://inherit.dplh.wa.gov.au/admin/api/file/f890bda6-c195-71f8-72ad-b2e154bbb8cc ↩︎
  5. Wrigley, Matthew (2023). Water in the context of colonisation in the Goldfields. Retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://wangka.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Water-in-the-Context-of-Colinisation-in-the-Goldfields-Matt-Wrigley.pdf ↩︎
  6. Sharp (2016): refers to lack of water supply ↩︎
  7. Heritage Council (1996): refers to lack of water supply ↩︎
  8. ibid: refers to Glass and Colreavy ↩︎
  9. Sharp (2016): refers to gold discovery ↩︎
  10. ibid ↩︎
  11. State Library of Western Australia (n.d.) Collection of photographs form the Royal Western Australian Historical Society; BA1886/543. Published in the West Australian 18 Mar 1933, p.5. Retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://encore.slwa.wa.gov.au/iii/encore/record/C__Rb1976225 ↩︎
  12. DEATH OF MR. COLREAVY. (1893, November 15). Bunbury Herald (WA : 1892 – 1919), p. 3. Retrieved March 27, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article87084401 ↩︎
  13. Shire of Yilgarn (n.d.) Golden Valley: Township of Knutsford. Retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://visit.yilgarn.wa.gov.au/Profiles/visit/Assets/ClientData/Documents/New_Brochures/Golden_Valley.pdf ↩︎
  14. Moran, Kevin (2000). Sand and Stone: the social history of Western Australia as recorded by the pioneer police of the eastern frontiers (vol 1 of 2). Frickers International Publishing, Perth WA. (available in the FamilyHistoryWA library) ↩︎
  15. Explorers’ Wells and Tracks Project (n.d.) White Man Rock Well. Image retrieved 27 Mar 2026 from https://wellsandtracks.com.au/wells/pioneer-wells/white-man-rock-well/ ↩︎

Edward Cayford

Editor’s Note: The following account of the death of Edward Cayford is based on two newpaper articles from 1914.1 2

The red dust of the Yalgoo district has a way of settling on a man’s soul as much as his skin, and in February 1914, the weight of the Murchison country seemed to press down with particular heaviness on Edward Francis Cayford. Known to most as Frank, the 40-year-old was a man of significant responsibility, serving as the trusted driver for the Ninghan Station transport team,. He had a wife and four young children waiting for him, but the road between the Yalgoo railway siding and the station homestead was long, and on this final journey, it became insurmountable.

The trouble began on Thursday, 12 February. Cayford was at the Yalgoo goods shed, loading the station wagon for the trek back to Ninghan. It was a standard task, yet the environment conspired against him. As he moved the heavy wagon out of the yard, the team became stuck in the soft ground. By the time he managed to pull the horses onto harder terrain, the entire load had shifted dangerously.

He managed to travel only about half a mile from the railway crossing before he was forced to camp for the night. John O’Connor, a teamster for Mr Nevill of Fields Find, camped nearby and later recalled that while Cayford appeared to have been drinking, he seemed sober enough to talk. However, Cayford confessed he “felt queer,” a sensation he claimed he had never experienced after drinking before. That night, he eschewed a proper bed, sleeping instead on the rough chaff bags that made up his cargo.

As the sun rose on Friday morning, the hopelessness of the situation seemed to crystallise. Cayford shared a final bottle of whisky with O’Connor and Queensland Charley, an Aboriginal worker who had come to assist with the reloading. When O’Connor had to leave to tend to his own team, he apologised for not staying to help. Cayford’s response was cryptic: “You need not say anything about seeing me”.

Left alone with the shifted load and the heat of the morning, Cayford’s despair deepened. He paced around the wagon, eventually telling Queensland Charley that he would never get to Ninghan with that load and declaring that he would “go no further”. In a final act of planning, he sent a young boy to fetch another worker, Windimar Billy, from a nearby camp.

With the boy gone and Charley busy atop the load, Cayford crawled into the cradle under the wagon, ostensibly to lie down out of the way. In the shadows of the carriage, he prepared a grim mechanical solution. He took a Winchester rifle and tied a piece of rope to the trigger, winding the other end three or four times around his left foot.

Just as Windimar Billy approached the wagon, a shot rang out. Charley climbed down to find Cayford in a half-sitting position against a bag of chaff. The muzzle of the rifle had been placed in his mouth; death had been instantaneous.

The aftermath was a scene of quiet tragedy on the Fields Find road. Police Constables Mann and Wreford arrived to find the teamster’s body still warm. They found no note, only broken whisky bottles near the wagon and an empty cartridge shell in the rifle. At the subsequent inquest in Yalgoo, the jury returned a verdict of self-inflicted death, noting that Cayford had been rational and sober just days earlier when he was paid for “dogs’ tails” at the police station.

The impact on life at Ninghan Station was profound. The loss of an experienced teamster meant a vital link in the station’s supply chain was severed, leaving the wagon and its shifted load stranded in the dust just outside Yalgoo,. More than the logistical vacancy, however, was the social cost. The tragedy left a widow and four children without a father, serving as a stark reminder of the mental toll extracted by the isolation and relentless labour of the Western Australian pastoral frontier. Cayford’s death remains a dark chapter in the station’s lore – a story of a man who reached his breaking point under the very weight of the goods meant to sustain the life of the property.


Sources

  1. General News. (1914, February 21). Mount Magnet Miner and Lennonville Leader (WA : 1896 – 1926), p. 2. Retrieved April 5, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article156308554 ↩︎
  2. Yalgoo Teamster’s Suicide. (1914, February 21). Geraldton Guardian (WA : 1906 – 1928), p. 4. Retrieved April 5, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article67029364 ↩︎

What’s new in Phase 7?

Phase 7 of our project starts tomorrow with the release of twenty-one new communities, bringing the total of communities being actively indexed to 109.

  • Mundaring Weir
  • Ninghan
  • Yerilla
  • Kunanalling
  • Golden Valley
  • Payne’s Find
  • Myalup Sustenance Worker’s Camp
  • Kurrajong
  • Wyening
  • Kudardup
  • Warriedar
  • Zanthus
  • Mangowine
  • Mulga Queen
  • Burnakura
  • Gum Creek
  • Mason & Bird Timbers Mills
  • Yetna
  • Jonesville
  • Nairibin
  • PWD Timber Mill

The profile pages for these communities will be released progressively across the next six to eight weeks, starting tomorrow. So make sure you are subscribed to our website to be notified when this happens.

Third time unlucky

Editor’s Note: The following story is taken from an article in the East Murchison News, 23 May, 1911.1

For those tracing the history of the Lawlers district, few stories capture the precarious nature of life on the goldfields like the destruction of the Vivien Hotel. In a single 24-hour period, the establishment faced three separate outbreaks of fire, eventually succumbing to the flames in the early hours of a Friday morning. This account, drawn from contemporary records, offers a window into the lives of the residents and the names that shaped the local community.

The ordeal began on a Thursday afternoon at approximately 3:30 p.m. Mrs. Hickey, who was managing the hotel, had just served drinks to three gentlemen in the bar when the first signs of trouble appeared. Miss O’Shea, the hotel’s domestic staff, was preparing tea in the kitchen when she heard a distinct “crackling noise”. Upon investigation, smoke was seen billowing from beneath a closed slide in the passage leading to the bar. The culprit was found to be straw packing within beer bottle cases that had somehow ignited. The three patrons rushed back to assist, and after a frantic struggle, the flames were thought to be extinguished.

However, the peace was short-lived. Later that afternoon, while Mrs. Hickey was recounting the first fire to a neighbor, the cry of “Fire!” rang out again. A second blaze had erupted, likely caused by embers smouldering from the first outbreak. This time, neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Hince and Mrs. Steinhauser rushed to the scene with buckets of water. Through their collective efforts, the fire was suppressed once more, though it had already scorched the steel-lined walls and destroyed several shelves.

Exhausted and shaken, Mrs. Hickey retired for the evening after 8:00 p.m., leaving Miss O’Shea in charge and asking a boarder, Mr. M. Duly, to assist with locking up. Tragically, the hotel’s luck finally ran out in the early hours of Friday morning. Mr. Duly was awakened by a crackling sound; thinking it was simply Miss O’Shea lighting the kitchen fire for breakfast, he initially stayed in bed. By the time he realized the building was truly ablaze, it was too late. The Vivien Hotel was completely demolished, with only a few items of clothing saved from the ruins.

The aftermath saw a swift official response. Warden A. G. Clifton and Corporal Cunningham arrived via a Cobb & Co motor car to begin an inquiry. For those researching local family trees, the names of the jury empanelled to investigate the fire are of particular note: W. Fawcett (foreman), C. B. Pell, and J. O’Connor. Other locals present at the scene included Mrs. Maley and Mrs. J. Flynn.

While the building and its stock were insured for £2000 with the Royal Insurance Company, the loss of the Vivien Hotel marked the end of a central social hub for the Lawlers community. To this day, the story remains a poignant reminder of the fragility of the structures our ancestors called home.


  1. FIRE AT VIVIEN. (1911, May 23). East Murchison News (WA : 1901 – 1911), p. 2. Retrieved April 1, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article253584465 ↩︎

James Lilly

In the mid-19th century, the region we now know as Mundaring was a rugged expanse of “mundak,” or wild country, dominated by towering jarrah and wandoo forests,. It was a landscape defined by the rhythmic thud of sleeper cutters’ axes and the isolated camps of convict road parties who laboured to maintain the vital thoroughfares of the colony,. For the early settlers, these hills were a formidable barrier between the burgeoning capital of Perth and the agricultural promise of the Avon Valley. Along the main artery of travel, the York Road, law and order often felt as thin as the coastal mist, creating a perfect environment for those living outside the law.1

An imagining of James Lilly, bushranger, created by Nano Banana 2
Christine Harris (2026)

The focal point of this narrative is a small stone structure situated near Manaring Lake at the junction of the Great Eastern and Great Southern Highways. Originally known as the Travellers Rest Inn, it was built around 1855 by Robert Doncon on “King Dick’s Road”, a route specifically financed by York settlers to bypass a more difficult government-surveyed track. By 1858, the inn had been purchased by Henry Horton and renamed Horton’s Half-Way House. Described by visitors as a “primitive sort of house,” its sitting room was famously furnished with great sofas that frequently served as makeshift beds for weary travellers.2

In November 1860, this humble outpost became the stage for a dramatic moment in Western Australian colonial history. James Lilly, an escaped bushranger, was at large in the district. In a time when the bush offered near-limitless sanctuary to fugitives, Lilly was a significant concern for the small, scattered populations of sawyers and pioneers. Bushrangers like Lilly represented a direct challenge to the safety of the mail routes and the security of isolated homesteads in the “high places” of the range.3

The capture of Lilly at Horton’s inn was a rare and decisive victory for colonial authorities. Drawn by the necessity of the crossroads or perhaps the rare prospect of shelter, the fugitive’s run ended at this remote stop. While the specific tactical details of the struggle are not extensively detailed in the historical record, it is confirmed that it was here that Lilly’s flight from justice was finally halted.4

Today, little remains of the site where this frontier drama unfolded. The advent of the Eastern Railway in 1884 bypassed the old York Road inns, stripping them of their economic purpose and social importance. Partially destroyed by bushfires in the 1920s and 1930s, the inn fell into a dilapidated state. What once stood as a vital haven for travellers and a site of high-stakes capture is now a collection of low stone walls, slowly deteriorating among the trees at the locality known as The Lakes. These ruins serve as a silent reminder of the days when James Lilly haunted the wild country of the Mundaring hills.5


Sources

  1. National Trust of Western Australia (n.d.) The Golden Pipeline: Mundaring. Retrieved 19 Mar 2026 from https://www.goldenpipeline.com.au/place/mundaring/ ↩︎
  2. Heritage Council of WA (2017). Travellers’ Inn Ruins. Retrieved 19 Mar 2026 from https://inherit.dplh.wa.gov.au/public/inventory/details/02f2be09-9790-45ec-99a6-2780f0b9e570 ↩︎
  3. ibid ↩︎
  4. ibid ↩︎
  5. ibid ↩︎

Further Reading

King George’s Dictionary

For many years, the origins of the names in our district were shrouded in mystery or based on folklore. For example, Wagin was once thought by some to mean “place of emus,” while an old resident even suggested a humorous anecdote about a man chasing his wife and shouting “Way, Gin”. However, thanks to the courtesy of King George, we now have access to a dictionary of authentic meanings for these locations.

George Dinah, widely known as King George, was a prominent and respected figure in the Great Southern Districts who served as the King of the Aboriginals. He was officially crowned in Wagin approximately ten or more years before his passing in 1926. At the time of his death, his age was estimated to be around 80.

King George was a man of the Roman Catholic faith, having been baptized in the church and married at Williams by a traveling Bishop. He was a devoted family man, survived by his wife, three sons, and four daughters. Even in his later years, he remained active in manual labor, working on a clearing contract at Boyalling Estate in West Wagin, which is where he passed away on July 2, 1926. His funeral was held the following Sunday, July 4, and was officiated by Rev. Fr. O’Reilly.1

Beyond his local standing, his cultural legacy is preserved through the dictionary of Aboriginal place names he provided for the district. He offered authentic corrections to common misconceptions, such as clarifying that Wagin was named after the Wagip trees found in swamps—used for making shields—rather than the emu. He also noted that Dumbleyung properly means “large basin,” describing the physical geography of the lake.

These names provide a fascinating window into the history and geography of the region, often describing the physical landscape, native wildlife, or traditional tools and activities. For instance, while many thought Dumbleyung meant “place of kangaroos,” King George clarifies that it actually means “large basin,” a very appropriate description for the lake itself.2

Below is a compiled list of these place names and their traditional meanings as recorded from King George’s dictionary:

Place NameMeaningAdditional Information / Location
BallayingComing.
BanderiugSmell something.The residence of Mr. Ualir.
BockarringMaking kangaroo clothes.Located to the south west of the Lake.
BoolunallongCome out.
BunkinSwelled up.The residence of Mr. J. Cronin Senr, where opossums were once plentiful.
CoblinineStomach.Refers to the Coblinine River which runs into Dumbleyung Lake.
CollanillingNavel of the stomach.
ComelberrupCut out opossums from the trees.The old place of the Hamilton Bros.
CooarringNoise in the stomach.
DongolockingDropping something.
DoradinHard clay for holding water.
DumbleyungLarge basin.Considered an appropriate name for the lake; it was previously thought to mean “place of kangaroos”.
DwelyerdineFog.
JinarninLooking.
JulakinDust.
KipperingThe dancing place for natives.
Lake GundaringA broken native shield.
MeinmugginWild chillies.
MerilupThe place where natives obtained Wonuera wood.This wood was used for making sticks to throw spears.
NnuaginYou sit down.Located on the eastern side of Dumbleyung Lake.
PingarningScratching the ground and standing still.The residence of Mr. Taylor in East Dumbleyung.
TarinA hollow.Associated with Tarin Rock, though the author notes no hollow is known there.
TraysurinA kind of school bag made of skins.
WaginNamed after the Wagip trees that grow in swamps.King George states these trees were used for making shields, refuting other meanings like “place of emus”.
WalyurinTo clap hands.
WoaginEagle hawk.Located on the Albany road at Beaufort River.
WoolkabinCalf of the leg.A gully situated on the south of the Lake.
YualdingSnap in two.Located near Mr. Kersley’s on Dumbleyung Lake.

  1. Death of King George (1926, July 9). The Wagin Argus and Arthur, Dumbleyung, Lake Grace Express (WA : 1924 – 1954), p. 5. Retrieved May 19, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article257766073 ↩︎
  2. THE MEANING OF NATIVE NAMES. (1925, September 18). The Wagin Argus and Arthur, Dumbleyung, Lake Grace Express (WA : 1924 – 1954), p. 3. Retrieved April 4, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article257758335 ↩︎

The Great Escape

G’day, history buffs! Grab a cuppa and settle in for a yarn about one of the most audacious adventures to ever hit the Western Australian Wheatbelt. We’re talking about the “Adventurous Quartette”, four cheeky lads who decided that the Red Hill Orphanage in Midland Junction just wasn’t big enough for their grand ambitions.

On a Tuesday in March 1909, these boys pulled a legendary vanishing act, setting their sights on the glitz and glamour of the Eastern Goldfields. Now, they didn’t have a luxury coach or a private car; they did it the hard way, tramping through the rugged WA bush on foot. Along the way, they became pint-sized bushrangers, raiding the camps of unsuspecting settlers to keep their bellies full as they followed the track towards the “rivers in the desert” promised by the Great Goldfields Water Supply Scheme.

Their epic trek took them all the way to Yerbillon, roughly 35 miles down the line from Southern Cross. Today, we know Yerbillon as the site of the mighty No. 6 Pump Station, a vital heartbeat in CY O’Connor’s Golden Pipeline, but back then, it was simply the perfect spot for our weary travellers to “jump” a goods train under the cover of night.

The boys managed to hitch a ride into Southern Cross, but their luck hit a snag when the train guard gave them the boot upon arrival. The guard didn’t actually realise he’d just intercepted Western Australia’s most wanted, and the “quartette” immediately began tramping back towards the goldfields.

Enter the heroes of our story: Sergeant Bishop and his two-wheeled task force. When word reached the station, the Sergeant despatched Constables Jones and Cleary on – wait for it – bicycles! Can you imagine the grit required to pedal through that red dirt in pursuit of justice?

The high-speed (well, 1909-speed) chase reached its climax near the Ghooli siding. While Ghooli would later be known for the impressive No. 7 Pump Station, on that particular Friday, it was the scene of a desperate dash for freedom. The lads tried to bolt when they saw the law approaching on their “iron steeds,” but the cyclists were far too smart for them.

Constable Jones managed to round up three of the boys and escorted them back to Southern Cross via another goods train that afternoon. But one little rebel remained at large! Constable Cleary had to put on his tracking hat and scout the scrub, eventually finding the fourth boy hiding out in the bush about a mile from Ghooli.

The adventure ended with a trip to the police court, where the boys faced charges for their orphanage escape and their “shopping sprees” at the settlers’ camps en route to Yerbillon. It wasn’t exactly the golden ending they’d hoped for, but you’ve got to admire the spirit of these four young explorers who turned the pipeline trail into their own personal adventure playground.


Sources

Escape from an Orphanage. (1909, March 13). The Murchison Times and Day Dawn Gazette (Cue, WA : 1894 – 1925), p. 3. Retrieved April 28, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article233454026

National Trust Western Australia (n.d.) The Golden Pipeline. Retrieved 28 April 2026 from https://www.goldenpipeline.com.au/

The Mysteries of the Internet and the story of Shay Gap in Western Australia

The following article was published by Bruce Elder, of Aussie Towns, on 21 March 20181 and is published here with the permission of the author.

I love the way the algorithms of the internet find the most obscure information. In May, 2017, I wrote a Facebook entry on the non-town of Shay Gap.

The town has always fascinated me because when I first circumnavigated the continent in 1988 I found it and was amazed by its futuristic modernity. When I returned it was gone. Totally. Absolutely. I couldn’t find even a hint of the town. It was a reminder of just how unsentimental mining companies are. When a town is not needed … get rid of it.

Mercifully I still have photos I took in 1988. Look at the houses. They all look as though they were designed by an architect straight out of The Jetsons. Pure 1950s sci-fi with lots of ovoid windows and what looks like plastic. It was a town created by Mount Goldsworthy Mining Associates for workers in their iron ore mines. It was designed in 1970 by an architect named Lawrence Howroyd.

In 1973 it was written about in, of all places, the Canberra Times.2 The following eulogy explains its origins: “Shay Gap is perhaps the most imaginative attempt yet to beat the hostility, if not ferocity, of one of the most inhospitable parts of Australia; but a part that is also one of the richest iron-ore belts in the world.

Shay Gap is in the hot country. Its near-neighbours are Marble Bar and Goldsworthy. which in summer compete day after day to post the highest maximum temperatures on the continent. It lies 120 miles east of the Pilbara’s major iron-ore port, Port Hedland. “The Gap”, as its residents already call it, is built on powdery brown earth lying between low cliffs of red rock that seem to cradle the heat of the day long after the sun has gone down. The temperature can reach 50°C in summer.

Shay Gap is another company town; one of three built by Goldsworthy Mining, the Pilbara iron ore pioneer. Goldsworthy already had a reputation for making the Pilbara bearable for its employees. Among other things it was the first to introduce closed-circuit television. This device gave it a much lower staff turnover than any other Pilbara company and attracted married couples — more stable work units than itinerant young men looking for quick fortunes.

For the new town, the command — to Perth architect, Mr Lawrence Howroyd – was, in effect: “Put down a place in the desert which people will not only find bearable, but attractive”. The result at Shay Gap is what Mr Howroyd calls a “machine for living”, an expression which has overtones of 1984 but which, in fact, is meant to convey that men who are prepared to work the mines should not have to sweat out domestic discomfort when they are off-shift. The town has been designed on the basis that it is a community rather than a collection of individuals — recognition that people are driven by isolation into “togetherness”.

Because the design was not governed by suburban block by-laws, it could be adventurous by suburban standards. One of its revolutionary features is an underground trench that contains all the town’s basic services: irrigation, sewerage, power and telephone and television cables. There is nothing unsightly sticking out of the ground. Mr Howroyd describes the trench as an umbilical cord. There are other features that any progressive town planner would give his eye teeth to be able to implement.

The 101 houses (with as many as four bedrooms) are built in groups of 11 in such a way that people can walk in shade from any part of the town to any other. No resident has to walk more than 200 yards to any facility, including the shopping centre, the school and the club. The average distance anyone has to walk anywhere is 40 yards. Residents are also kept cool with an air-conditioning system based on a communal chilled-water plant. Each house taps the main that ring the town. In addition, each house is pressurised by a fan coil unit; because pressure inside is higher than it is outside, dust and most insects cannot enter.

Shay Gap homes c1988
photographed by the author, Bruce Elder

Another refinement is the irrigation system, which provides up to 60 inches of “rain” a year. The watering is done at night from high-level misting devices. The town is expected to develop a green, park-like appearance — an oasis of comfort in a desert.

The building of Shay Gap from the ground up presented a unique opportunity for eliminating the motor car from living areas. The town is completely free of vehicles, yet each house has a lock-up garage. Small electric vehicles are used to provide such services as rubbish disposal.”

The end result was that Lawrence Howroyd won an Award of Merit in 1974 from the Prince Philip Prize for Australian Design.

But, and this is always the moral of the story of mining towns, by 1994 it had been totally demolished and removed. When I returned there was nothing. Absolutely nothing to remind people that once there was an award winning, experimental town in the desert. The transience and unsentimental capitalism of mining. Who cares about the inhabitants. The mine is closed and so is the town.

Now, here’s the mystery. Yesterday some people who lived in Shay Gap actually found my FB entry. They had such fond memories:

Jackie Dimovska wrote: “This was a really interesting read. Best little town to grow up in. Still have dreams about it.”

Then Desmond Leong added “Had the best childhood ever growing up there.”

And Linda Skinner wrote: Still miss the town memories I will have forever and sadness that it’s gone yes a very unique beautiful community town and was great raising my children and will never be forgotten”. With lots of heart emojis.

That makes these Facebook entries worthwhile. I am so glad it has touched people deeply. Maybe I should include it in Aussie Towns so people can remember.


  1. Elder, Bruce (2018). https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17LEGRnRye/ ↩︎
  2. Oasis of comfort (1973, June 9). The Canberra Times (ACT : 1926 – 1995), p. 19. Retrieved April 16, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article110713812 ↩︎