Podcast Ep4-Pt1
Laurie Pointing was a ringer in Taroom for 7 years from 1952 to 1958 on multiple stations such as Nunbank, Gwambegwine, Ghinghinda, Broadmere, Glenhaughton, and The Bend. In 1952 Laurie was the first of many Ipswich lads to make the journey out west looking for work as a stockman. In 1958, together with Taroom mate Paul Phipps, he joined the Queensland Police Force, working his way up to Assistant Commissioner of Police before his retirement. Laurie is a published Author of 7 books and a keen bush poet. He has written 29 poems. (More details on Lauries books and poetry below)
In Part 1 of Episode 4 Laurie talks about the top riders he knew during his time in Taroom in the 1950s, naming his lifelong friend Jack Clarris as the best he’s ever seen, across all disciplines.
“Jack Clarris was the best I’ve ever seen – horseman, stockman, bushman, you wouldn’t find a better man”
Laurie Pointing
JACK CLARRIS – a legendary Taroom horseman
At just 14 Jack Clarris won the Open Buckjump at the Taroom Show against a field of top riders. His reputation soon spread further across Central Queensland while touring with his father in the Bill Clarris Buckjump show, with proceeds donated to the War effort supporting soldiers fighting overseas.
Jack’s athleticism, strength and skill as a pickup man was also legendary. From rodeos, to campdrafting, bareback show jumping, scrubber throwing, horse breaking, and cattle droving, Jack Clarris is remembered by all who knew him as one of a kind – a versatile, fearless and talented horseman, stockman, bushman, friend – and a true gentleman of Taroom.
At 16, Jack Clarris almost died in a Glenhaughton Gully (1940)
Eddie Briggs is credited for saving Jack Clarris’ life in 1940 when 16-year-old Jack lay bleeding in the bottom of a Glenhaughton gully beside his dead horse for 3 days and 2 nights, covered in blood, flies and meat ants, his leg so twisted and broken that his foot rested beside his belt.
When Jack didn’t arrive to ride Eddie’s horse at the St Patricks Campdraft, Eddie knew something was wrong – Jack would never miss the chance to compete. Riding all night to reach Glenhaughton station, Eddie snatched 2 hours of sleep before setting out at daylight to search for his young friend who was last seen riding out to find two missing horses belonging to head stockman George Lamb on the outstation Mt Pleasant, 12 miles from the homestead. It was a daunting task to find one man in this country – Jack could be lying dead or injured anywhere.
Eddies hopeful “Coo-eee’s” echoed through the ironbark timbered country, as he crossed gullies and hills, pausing only to listen in hopeful anticipation of a reply before riding on… until at last there came a faint and feeble “Coo-ee” from Jack in reply.
Eddie Briggs thanked the Lord. Against all odds in that remote place he had found the young ringer alive, but Jack was in a BAD way.
The dead, bloated, and fly-blown horse lying beside Jack belonged to George Lamb. This was a time of drought and Glenhaughton Station were short on horses. In order to spell the weakened stockhorses after a long muster, private horses were used in the mustering camps. The black mare Jack was riding and the two missing horses he was sent to find, were newly broken and still very green, but with the shortage of experienced stockhorses the men were happy to ride any horse that was fresh and fit, and they had no choice but to use private horses to get the job done.
Friday 15th March 1940, the Day of the Accident
The young horse (belonging to Head Stockman George Lamb) that Jack chose to ride that day had a bad habit of bucking, running backwards and rearing high, but Jack knew she needed work, and he was always up for a challenge, so he wasn’t concerned. His instructions were to find the missing horses and bring them back to the station. The rest of the stockmen rode on with the mob of cattle ahead of Jack. If they had already left for town when he got back to Glenhaughton Station with the missing horses, Jack was to ride on to the nearby Glenleigh Station to get a lift into Taroom with Bob Scott in time for the campdraft the next day.
As expected, it didn’t take Jack long to locate the missing horses, but the challenge came while attempting to remove their hobbles. With his own young horse making life difficult, he eventually managed to undo one hobble strap from each horse before they galloped off again, now free from their restraints.
As Jack sprung onto his flighty horse to round them up, the mare started bucking. With Jack now firmly planted in the saddle, trying to regain control, the mare reared high, overbalancing and plunging backwards over the steep bank of a breakaway gully.
It was approximately 8:00am when the lights went out for Jack that Friday. He woke for the first time just on dark, on a brumby pad leading down to the bed of a creek, halfway to ground level. The dishevelled, dehydrated, stressed young stockman lay with a twisted and severely broken left leg covered in meat ants… a dead mare beside him. His left foot rested unnaturally beside the belt on his hips. He passed out again.
Meanwhile, back in Taroom, the St Paddy’s Campdraft had started and young Jack Clarris still hadn’t shown up. Where was Jack?
EDDIE BRIGGS, a stockman mate, was concerned. Jack’s father, Bill the Blower, was wondering where he had got to – he was such a reliable young bloke and he would never miss a chance to compete. Bob Scott from Glenleigh had arrived at the campdraft without Jack, unaware that Jack was told to catch a ride to town with him if Jack was late getting back to Glenhaughton station. That was the final straw for Eddie. He knew something had gone wrong. He wasted no time in saddling up and headed for Glenhaughton. He arrived early the next morning, having ridden 70-odd miles through the night. Nobody at the homestead had seen Jack. Eddie was really starting to worry. He snatched a few hours sleep and set off before sunrise in the direction Jack was last seen heading out to catch the wayward horses.
Eddie Briggs found Jack in a bad way. He lay where he fell two and a half days and two nights earlier, covered in meat ants, flies and blood.
Young Jack had endured two-and-a-half days and two lonely and painful nights before he was miraculously discovered by Eddie Briggs – but the ordeal was far from over. It was early afternoon, the day was hot and Jack lay in a remote and inaccessible place on the outstation Mount Pleasant.
After several attempts to move Jack, Eddie thought to mount him on his old Chestnut mare with the intention of leading the mare and Jack back to the homestead on foot, but the old horse would have none of it, shying, bucking and painfully throwing the badly injured stockman to the ground.
Realising the hopeless gravity of the situation, Eddie made Jack as comfortable as possible before racing back to the station for help. By this time the men had arrived back from town. Eddie and the extra men returned to Jack, cutting a track through the timber for the horse-drawn buggy. A stretcher was made from hessian bags and saplings. The long journey home with the grateful and stoic patient commenced way after sundown, traversing the rough bush track with the aid of gas and hurricane lights carried by men on horseback.
Arriving at the homestead at last, the managers wife Mrs Hawkins, thankfully a trained nursing sister, administered the only available medicine – two good stiff rums – as she expertly (and agonisingly) pulled Jack’s leg straight, before putting him to bed.
And then it rained – all through the night and for several days later, further delaying medical treatment for the quietly suffering ringer.
A mattress was placed on the back of the old Blitz truck for Jack, with a tarpaulin covering him from the weather. At daybreak the journey to Taroom commenced, the truck accompanied by men on horseback. On the slippery and boggy road, the going was slow.
After travelling less than 10 miles, a slippery pinch pulled them up. With every ounce of strength, the men and horses forced the old truck over the rise, only to become bogged shortly after. A man on horseback was dispatched to Glenleigh Station, for the services of another vehicle and more help from the Scott family. Finally, the truck was extracted from the bog and pushed over the pinch by vehicle, man and beast. The rescue party travelled so far as Umbudgen, where they spent the night with Sam Knack and his family, still some distance from their destination.
Utilising motor vehicles owned by the TaiSaue family and Reg Moy of Taroom, Jack eventually reached the Taroom Hospital safe and sound well into the following day, after again being bogged and forging flooded creeks along the way. It was 5 days since the accident at Mt Pleasant.
The Taroom doctor wasted no time in dispatching the patient to Toowoomba Base Hospital, however there were further delays as the rain continued to fall, and a suitable vehicle needed to be found. With no Ambulance vehicle in town, local Jim Lamb, the owner of a white Nash utility with a canopy cover, conveyed Jack to Miles hospital, but not before trace chains were fitted to all four wheels of his vehicle to negotiate the rain-sodden, unsealed highway. Once again arriving in the dark, after a long and painful journey, Tuesday night was spent in Miles hospital.
From Miles, the patient was conveyed to Toowoomba and then immediately directed to the Royal Brisbane hospital where Dr Harold Crawford examined Jacks flyblown leg. Dr Crawford remarked that “it was only the flies and maggots that prevented gangrene setting in, saving Jacks leg from amputation.” The leg was set.
A Lengthy Convalescence in Brisbane
Jack remained in hospital for the next eight months, and upon discharge, moved in with his sister Edie and brother-in-law Bob Eales at Chermside, Brisbane. Without an income for the best part of a year, and no compensation forthcoming for his serious injuries, Jack was broke.
The insurance company for McConnel and Kirk would not pay out for the injured stockman, as despite being injured in the course of duty, Jack wasn’t riding a station-owned horse. However, even if he had been riding a company horse, he was still snookered. In those days, if a crupper wasn’t fitted to the saddle at the time of the accident, stockmen could not claim against their employer, and there was no written agreement in place between the head stockman (George Lamb), and the Company regarding the (necessary) use of private horses. No attempt was made to pay Jack’s medical expenses, and the Clerk of the Court at Taroom did nothing to assist Jack in seeking compensation. He was an invalid stuck in Brisbane, and he needed a job.
It wasn’t long before Jack found work at a Kedron tannery where he worked for two months, on crutches, operating a motorised trolley delivering cattle hides to the dye drums. He eventually returned to Taroom, 10 months after his accident, whilst still on the mend. Jack refused the offer of employment back at Glenhaughton Station. When his health improved to the point where he could walk without crutches, 17-year-old Jack returned to work once again at Reedy Creek under the watchful eye of his father Bill who was head stockman at the time.
Click Podcast link below for more (audio) Stories from Laurie Pointing
TAROOM TALES PODCAST Laurie Pointing Episode 4 – Part 1
Many other characters of the district are mentioned in this entertaining episode. Laurie also touches on some sad stories, including the fire at Broadmere when the entire homestead complex burnt to the ground, and the death of a young cook from the Leichhardt Hotel at the new years eve dance on 31 December 1951, just before Laurie arrived in town in April 1952, ahead of his 16th birthday in August.
Oct 2023 Glenhaughton Ringers and Cooks Reunion – revisiting the Tin Hut mustering camp in the beautiful Amphitheatre with mates from 1950s and 60s.
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