Burrawang is a small village in New South Wales, situated between Moss Vale and Robertson, and approximately two miles from Wingecarribee Swamp, lately mentioned by Professor Taylor in his articles detailing with the Nepean Ramp in the "Sydney Morning Herald". The writer of this article was born in the old rectory at Burrawang (of which parish her father held the incumbency for nearly 40 years), and is well acquainted with the whole district, having ranged it far and wide when a child, both on horseback and on foot, in the company of two brothers.
Wingecarribee Swamp holds a mystery of which the outside world has never heard even a whisper. When the long, cold months are over, with the first returning warmth of spring, the swamp awakes from its frozen winter sleep, and the call of night birds innumerable, and of millions of frogs, can be heard in the village. But these are not the only denizens of old Wingecarribee for there lives the "Bunyip", so called by local people, but by aborigines in earlier days "Debil Debil". This beast or bird, has never been seen by anyone if we accept the stories to be touched upon later.
Mr. H. Mackie, a prosperous farmer, living almost on the banks of the swamp, states that there are several creatures. He has noted the sound about to be described proceeding from as many as five different stations on the swamp, as though one called and another answered. The sound made is best described as a hollow roar, as loud as that of a bull, from which it is easily distinguished ; and yet it is not altogether a roar, possessing a quality peculiar to itself alone. It is a kind of hooting "mump", and it usually calls, or roars, or hoots twice to five times in succession, drawing its breath at the conclusion with a hoarse intake such as one might expect from a buffalo bull with the croup. It roars every spring and summer, usually in the early part of the night, from a little after dark until midnight, and again towards morning for a shorter period. It is not so energetic, as a rule, on wet nights.
Many were the theories put forth in the early days with regard to this bird or beast. Some thought the roaring to be due to foul air escaping from deep holes, which the spring rains were replenishing with water once more. Others inclined to the belief that an underground river flowed from unknown central Australia, having a surface course there in the presence of some huge lake, and opening again on the surface at Wingecarribee Swamp. And they could see, in imagination, a great amphibious animal making its annual migration along this airless midnight channel until it reared its prehistoric form from the cavernous depths of its watery lair once more, to bask in the sun and nightly roar its exultation to a world no longer inhabited by primitive man only, as had been the case for countless years, but also by white, educated, thinking individuals.
Others, again, held the theory there were no naturalists in Burrawang, that it was a kind of booming bittern. This theory was rejected as an unthinkable heresy by the true Irish, native-born residents of Burrawang. "The thing sounds like a bunyip ; the blacks called it 'Debil Debil', and therefore a bunyip it was," or is, for it still exists.
Forty years ago, roughly, a party of men who lived by means of their skill at shooting went out with dogs in an endeavour to escure this animal (?) They returned terrified and related that they came upon the thing basking in the sun, on the side of a hole supposed to be bottomless, situated about the centre of the swamp ; and at their approach, the creature, which they stated to approximate the size of a two-year-old steer, and which appeared to possess two short, broad fins or flippers, and in colour was a dirty white or very light grey, took fright and plunged into the hole. This description gave rise to the idea that it was a kind of fresh-water seal. The dogs ran away, and so did the men. Possible the dogs followed their masters, but the men stressed the flight of the dogs first, due to terror, in their version of the adventure. The names of these men were Schofield, Mansfield and Bunt. Their descendants still live in the district. Others also claimed that they had seen the monster.
In the summer months the local lads used to bathe in a long pool called "The Half-mile Hole". On one occasion one of their number swam very near the lower end of the cross-bank, when he suddenly called out that he was being "drawn under". Another boy went to his assistance, and he also was caught in the current. The writer's brother, an older boy, was present, and he quickly formed a cordon of boys, stretching from bank to bank, immediately below the two in danger, and after a considerable struggle they were brought to safety. That end of the hole was avoided ever afterwards.
Between forty and fifty years ago a stranger to the district called at the rectory and asked to be directed to Kangaloon. While complying with his request he was warned not to attempt to cross the swamp, which looked very easy going from the rectory garden, the Kangaloon Range being immediately opposite. Farms, cultivation paddocks, and houses could plainly be discerned on its side, with Kangaloon village a bare four miles by that route. Going by the road meant a nine mile journey. Whether he did so attempt is not known. He was never seen again, and this much is known, he never reached Kangaloon.
Fencing posts, placed too far out on the swamp have a little way of disappearing from view, some quickly, some more slowly. Many can be seen with just a foot or so protruding from the surface soil. At certain places the ground springs up and down with one if bodily weight is put upon it, by bending the knees like a person is preparing for a leap, and then releasing quickly several times in succession. At certain other places, in a wet season, water can plainly be heard rushing. These facts have caused local people to regard it as a sluggishly flowing under-ground river.
One drought season the whole swamp caught alight, and burnt for several weeks. At night it was a magnificent spectacle from the hills around, the whole area being one dancing, flickering, living sheet of flame. Along its banks spagnum moss is growing in sufficient quantities to supply Sydney's florists for many years to come, and to constitute a good living for the enterprising person who may, at some future time exploit it.
(Windsor and Richmond Gazette 7th January, 1927.)
[ Back to Hawkesbury Historical Society's Home Page ]