An Overland Telegraph Depot

AN OVERLAND TELEGRAPH DEPOT


Carefully selected-stone
Walls still stand sentinel
Like tombstones without a text
Outside of dry Barrow Creek

In 1874 an isolated group of buildings
in the middle of vast nowhere. The sand
of Barrow creek bed, crumbling dry hills,
mopped up human voices like a padded world.

As it was when the attack came just eight
days after the wires began their singing.
It came from the Katish, with whom less
Care had been taken. They speared linesman

John Franks and then Stationmaster
James L Stapleton, but they did not show
Any less hand for mercy to the domesticated
Black Boy. They speared him three times.

But retreated into pause. From the black and white
Binary dot and dash of that Morses Code, the sent
Telegraph read like an action script:
'This station has been attacked

by natives, Stapleton has been
mortally wounded, one of the men,
John Franks has died from wounds.
Civilised Native Boy has had three

spear wounds. Mr Flint, assistant
operator, one spear wound in leg,
not serious. Full details in morning."
Imagine that remote machine going quiet.

Too quiet. Quiet like its was before
the noise. Later Mounted Constable
Samuel Gason led a large police hunt, but
Took no prisoners who might Telegraph.


* * *

Dead silence, for death likely came
Out there just of mere geography,
like in 1883, November, when Mounted
Constable John Shirley, stationed

at Barrow Creek, led a party of 5 men
and 18 horses out in search of missing
pastoralist Readford and all perished
from thirst near Brunette Downs.