Western Argus 5^th May 1898

LOST IN THE BUSH.

FIVE DAYS WITHOUT FOOD OR WATER.

MISS JANECZEK’S AWFUL EXPERIENCE!

Southern Cross seems determined to make a name for itself. Beside those persons interested in the mines in the place, nobody scarcely knew of this town, in the barren desert of West Australia. Then it was heard of as a starting-place whence travelers came along the track to the then new Eldorado of Coolgardie. Later it burst forth into notoriety as the scene of the Deeming crime, but the excitement of that subsided and absolutely faded away in the shadow of the greater crimes of Butler. Once more, however, Southern Cross has blossomed forth and this time as the scene of one of the most thrilling records of human endurance and courage on the part of a girl. Stories of people lost in the bush are familiar to Australians, but beyond the bare circumstance that someone is missing, and that later the remains of that someone have been found, perhaps years after, very few details are forthcoming. Therefore. the story of one who has gone right into the jaws of death – in fact, been so close that she lay down to die cannot fail to arouse deep interest. Furthermore, it embodies also an exhibition of pluck COURAGE, SKILL, AND ENDURANCE on the part of those who found her well worthy of recognition, as it shows that the attributes which built up the British nation still flourish in her offspring here.

The Bush near Southern Cross

On Thursday a representative of the ‘KALGOORLIE MINER’ was in Southern Cross, and noticing a somewhat unusual indefinable air of suppressed excitement about the place, sought to enquire the cause of it of Mr J. W. Byrne. The Mayor of the town. “Haven’t you heard’ Why we’ve just brought her in,” he said. “Brought who, what, which in?” asked the press man. and then lie told how on Thursday, April 20, a girl 23 years of age, named Constance Janeczek had arrived from Coolgardie at Southern Cross and on the following afternoon she went out to visit some friends who lived about half a mile out of the town. About 5 or 6 o’clock Miss Janeczek thought she would take a stroll .in the cool of the evening. She did not even put her hat on, and walked along enjoying the contrast from the heat and glare of the day until presently it struck her it was time to return to tea. She turned, but upon looking around could see no trace of the town she had left behind her, and then, in a vague way, she felt she must have strayed too far, so sought to retrace her steps.

By this time night had settled down-dark, but starlit. Over another ridge she went, thinking the town was on the other side, but it happened to be in tile wrong direction, and she was further than ever from the goal she sought. Then fear took definite shape and she started to run. The country she was in lies to the southward of the town, and is made of ironstone ridges, with occasional sand patches, and the bush consists of ti-tree, sandalwood,and mulga. INTO THIS SHE PLUNGED,and then was lost. As she did not return to “The Cross ” that night it was thought that she had stayed with her friends, so no concern was felt about her.

Frederick McCubbin (1855-1917), Lost, 1886, oil on canvas. Image courtesy of National Gallery of Victoria: Accession no. 1077-4, Felton Bequest, 1940.

On Saturday evening, however, she was reported to the police as missing who set out forthwith and found tracks of the footprints of somebody who had evidently wandered. Darkness prevented further search, so on Sunday last the police and an aboriginal tracker followed up the tracks all day, and on Monday also, when they tracked her back to within three miles of Southern Cross, during which time she had walked about 50 miles. On Tuesday Mr J. W. Bryne, Mayor of Southern Cross, an old Queensland bushman, with a buckboard buggy and pair, Mr Richards, Mounted Police Constable Cassidy, and two black trackers started out. Although by this time the gravest fears were entertained as three days had elapsed and the forbidding nature of the waterless waste was well known to all of them. However, all Tuesday they followed the tracks and discovered she had crossed the railway line, had twice circled the salt lake and crossed it once. They came across some of her under clothing and later on discovered a hole about ten inches deep and six feet long, where there were signs that she had laid down. It looked as if she had DUG HER GRAVE and prepared to die.

On Wednesday, at daylight, they set out again, and came across more holes apparently scooped out by the hands of the suffering girl. “This was the worst patch of the lot,” said Mr Byrne. “Awful country, some of the worst I’ve ever been in. We had to hack down the ti tree by driving the horses through it.  Iron stone ridges with nothing to aide us but an overturned stone occasionally. How she got through is a mystery. Just then I had to leave the trackers in order to go on about six miles to the Strawberry Rocks for water, as the horses were nearly knocked up. There were five men and four horses with only six gallons of water between them for two days, and we were suffering terribly then so you can imagine what the girl’s agonies must have been. Well, as I was going along I happened to come to a sand patch, and there saw the imprint of a bare heel. (We found her boots before that ) I went back without a moment’s delay and told Cassidy and the trackers, leaving them a little whisky and water in case they found her alive, but I really did not expect they would. Then I went to water the horses, and shortly afterwards the boys picked up the tracks, and at 1 o’clock she was found lying down speechless. I passed her, when something attracted my notice, and there she was behind a little bush, with her singlet tied over her head to keep the flies off; jaw dropped and fixed and

EYES STARING AND WIDE OPEN.

Just a movement of the eyebrows and I knew she was alive. We gave her a teaspoonful of weak whisky and water, and then I got the black boys to boil the billy and we gave her a little warm tea to soften the throat. I was afraid at first she would choke. We had to be very careful, but I believe the warm tea brought her to as soon as anything: An hour later she could raise her hand to her face, and dipped her hands in the bucket of water to cool them. I never saw anyone so game in my life. Grit to the backbone. Well we drove her in as quickly as possible, gave her a little liquid now and then, and here she is if you care to see her. She’s getting all right again now slowly, and is, of course, only allowed liquid beef tea and that sort of thing. Dr Black is attending her and says she will pull through.” Anxious not to disturb the patient, who was then sleeping quietly, the reporter just took a glimpse and saw a girl, thin, of course, but not so thin as he expected, considering the ordeal she had just come through, with prepossessing features and very fair hair. Just a handful, who would not when in ordinary health turn the scale at over seven stone. However, what there is of Miss Janeczek must be of the very best quality, or else she could never have stood what she did. Miss Janeczek says she took her boots off because her feet were tired and hot, and

DUG HOLES IN THE SAND TO COOL HERSELF.

She did not intend to dig her grave, but was so hot and feverish at the time she dug the big hole out with sticks, scooping the earth out with her hands, that she took all her underclothing off and lay down on it. She covered herself with earth and boughs, but shortly after felt too cold, so put on some of her clothing again. She could not get her boots on, as her feet had swelled very much, so she set off bare footed. She says she was never unconscious, but strangely enough cannot recollect having crossed the railway line. She says when she lay down the last time she knew she was done, and was just lying there waiting for death.

Salt Lake near Southern Cross

She heard the buggy pass the first time within a few yards, but could not call out. She ran after the crows, as she wondered where they got water. When discovered, her purse, which contained about £20 was lying by her side, and, as may be expected, her finger nails were filled half way down with earth where she had scooped out the earth, and her feet and hands were terribly torn and lacerated. Mr Byrne says that had Miss Janeczek been discovered an hour later he would not have given her chance of recovery, but as he said before he had abandoned all hope of finding her alive. In tracking her the dingoes had followed her night and day for the same reason that the crows did. It is estimated that during her five days sojourn in the wilderness Miss Janeczek traveled over 50 miles. Too much cannot be said in praise of those who found her and in their turn they state they are lost in admiration of the plunk and fortitude of the girl in circumstances most trying and terrible anyone can imagine. What her mental sufferings were no tongue can tell.

The Electoral Roll for 1922 shows a Constance Janeczek as resident in Kalgoorlie in 1922-25 possibly at 620 Hannan Street.

Thomas Cantwell
Died of Thirst or Foul Play?

The following item appeared in the local paper in Camblin, Roscrea, Co Tipperary, Ireland on the 24^th Dec 1895:

Perished between Norseman and Coolgardie Western Australia, supposed from thirst, Tom Cantwell (43 years), one of the best fellows who ever pulled off a shirt. Poor Tom was one of the finest specimens of an Irishman and an athlete that ever left the ‘ould sod’.

A noted collar-and-elbow wrestler, stone-putter, hammer thrower, runner and jumper. He was well known in Ballarat, Victoria, in the seventies and later on upon the New South Wales fields, railways and public works, and will long be remembered as one of the quietest and gentlest of men. He narrowly escaped getting his head blown off at Prospect – a gun pointed at his head –‘in fun”, as usual, exploding as he laughingly pushed it aside. But he was reserved for a harder fate. On his way with two mates from Norseman to Coolgardie to draw £5,000 for the sale of their mine, the ‘Great Norseman’ in Boulder, the water bag leaked, and the usual delirium horror followed. One of the party reached help and returned to find swags and clothes scattered about the place, but the wearers were missing.

VALE:  Tom Cantwell, the western wilderness holds the bones of no better man.

The above  ‘appreciation’ of Tom Cantwell was in a frame and hung near the open hearth fire in the kitchen of Tom’s old home in Camblin, Roscrea, Co Tipperary in Ireland, when the writer visited in 1977. There lived in this house Tom’s 80-year-old niece, Sue and Martin, his nephew. The lower part of the faded newspaper cutting had been eaten away by woodworm from the frame, but

Sue was able to recite it by memory.

She told how her aunt, Kate Anne MAHER, then in her nineties, but with a very clear memory, said that on coming home from school, she found her mother crying. She had just got word of her brother Tom’s death. She said they thought he had money stolen from him. Tom had another brother, Tim and two sisters who went to Australia. One of the sisters, Anne, married a LOWREY. Kate said that the two sisters were supposed to be well off. They had an awful lot of land and were supposed to have thousands of acres. They kept up an occasional correspondence with home. He was the son of James CANTWELL and Margaret DELAHUNTY. His estate amounted to £479/9s/10d.

Written by Laurence WALSH from St Joseph’s Abbey Roscrea, Ireland in Jan 2002

Died of thirst or foul play ??? – Image TROVE

The West Australian – 4^th Jan 1896

The Coolgardie Pioneer gives the following particulars of the fate of the two unfortunate men, Thomas Cantwell and Jerry O’Conlan, who (as mentioned in our columns the other day) were lost some time back on their way from Dundas (Norseman) to Coolgardie. It will be remembered that they, with their two mates, having just disposed of a mine, were coming in here to draw the money when they got off the track. – In a very weak state, they managed to strike the Sunday Soak, only to be disappointed in not finding water, and the other two went off in search of help. When they returned, Cantwell and O’Conlan had disappeared and wandered off into the trackless waste.

No hope was entertained from the first that they would be discovered alive, but Constable Brown and a native tracker were sent off in search of them. The missing men were followed to a point some 50 miles west of the Sunday Soak, where their bodies were found. They had kept close together despite the delirium of thirst, and of what they must have suffered ere death came to their relief, only those who have nearly perished themselves in the wilderness can form an adequate idea.

There were signs by the way which showed that they had several times lain down and rolled on the ground in their agony. In the end, one of the poor fellows had crawled into a sandpit about 3ft deep, made a last despairing effort to reach water by scraping the sand out with his hands, and so he died. He was found still in that position, and only about four yards off lay the dead body of his mate, lying on his back, partially stripped of clothing. On their wanderings, they had passed within 150 yards of a supply of the precious fluid that might have saved their lives. The discovery took place on the day before Christmas Day, and as the bodies were then much decomposed, they were given immediate burial close to the spot where they breathed their last.