The Nukinenda Crew

Poem Extracted from

CRADLED IN THE RANGES

A history of Blackbutt, Benarkin, Taromeo and Surrounding Districts

By S. N. STOCKS

ISBN 0 7316 4169 8

Presented by Paul Clacher THE NUKINENDA CREW With humour aforethought and malice toward none Anon

Come on, young men and ladies, Mothers and fathers too: I'll relate to you the history, Of the Nukinenda Crew. Concerning Mother Brady. And her many heinous deeds: Now, friends, please give attention, And remember how it reads.

Twas in the month of August And on the Scots’ Lammas Day; Bill Kamp he was a-beaten They say by Geordie Seib: Kamp could not believe it He wouldn't think it so; He thought it was Pat Sullivan Who struck the mighty blow.

They fought and beat Dick Kingsley A sober, innocent man: He left his wife and children To do the work of man: They wounded Andy Seymour Although his life was saved; It seemed he shunned the boozer Since he stood so near the grave,

Kamp, he did recover Some months had come and passed, In the town of Cooyar-Cooyar, These men had met at last; Paddy and a friend or two Along the street did walk; He seemed to be uneasy And no one wished to talk.

He walked in Smithies pub Up to the "Good Hope" bar, And little did he think, my friend That he'd sing his last tra-la; The sting of death was near him Kamp rushed in through the door; A few words passed between them Concerning a row before.

The people soon were frightened Began to leave the room; When a ball from Kampie’s pistol Put Paddy in his tomb; His friends soon gathered round him His wife to weep and wail; Kamp, he was arrested And soon confined to jail.

He was put in jail at Cooyar There to stay a while; In the hands of law and justice To bravely stand his trial; The people talked of hanging him If he gets out on bail, The prisoner’s friends soon moved him Into the Yarraman jail.

Some persons forged 'an order Their names I do not know: The plan was soon agreed upon For Kampie they would go: Kamp — he seemed discouraged He seemed to be m dread. "They sought a plan lo kill me," To the jailer, Kamp, he said. They put the handcuffs on him No hat upon his head; They -only wanted vengeance. For he'd shot their miner dead; They brought him back to Blackbutt His heart was in distress; They told his wife to get and dress When they shoved him in the hut.

Kamp, he sat in horror And pleaded with his wife; To talk to Mother Brady And try to save his life; When they were set and ready They had no time to lose They sat him down and tied him And told him not to move.

They stepped up to the prisoner With clippers in their hand, In death, he soon was sinking He'd die in iron bands; When they were set and ready She closed her eyes m fear She cried, "Ob Lord, they'll kill him," When she heard those scissors sear.

The hair came off quite fleecy Jet black, and dark, they said; Ma Brady sat astride him And wetted on his head; She said, "This makes it shiny Makes it smell like leather: So go ahead my laddies And plaster tar and feathers."

The baldy head of Kamp, Made trouble in the land Caused men to leave their families And take the parting hand.; Retaliating, still at war They'll never, never cease I would that I could see my birthplace Once more at rest and peace.

The act of retribution, was mulled in many minds They tried and tried to outwit her With plans, of many kinds; To no avail they thought and thought The schemes all came to nought; To wreck the power of Mother Brady For the head of Baldy Kamp Became the legend in' the land.

I compose this as a warning Beware of gold, my fine young men The boozing will cause trouble On this you can depend; In the bottom of 'a whisky glass The lurking devils dwell They score the head of those who drink And send their souls to hell.

Anon – p 89

Stocks S. N., “Cradled In The Ranges A History of Blackbutt, Benarkin Taromeo and Surrounding Districts 1842 – 1988 ”, Blackbutt-Benarkin Bicentenary and Centenary Committee, Cranbrook Press (Toowoomba), p 89, 1988, ISBN 0 7316 4169 8