BORROLOOLA AND THE COASTAL TRIBES

Years ago Borroloola was a much more populous place than it now is, and the Macarthur district, until the police were permanently settled there, had a most unenviable notoriety as the home, or rather the hiding-place, of some of the worst characters in the Territory, men for whom other parts had become too hot. Those old days have long since passed away, and when we saw it, Borroloola was simply a little township, the white inhabitants consisting of the manager of the store, the Mounted Trooper, the hotel keeper, and the owner of what had once been a fine Chinese fruit and vegetable garden. Three times a year a small steamer from Darwin was supposed to call, bringing stores, but at the time of our visit it had foundered, and means of communication by sea were precarious. However, we had plenty of work ahead of us amongst the coastal tribes and we settled down comfortably, and rigged our bunks under the shelter of the court house, which was now empty and deserted save for a few bats.

Two days after we arrived, Chance, who had been delayed by the breaking of a couple of bolts while descending the very steep bank of the gully leading down into the bed of the Macarthur, came in with the wagon.