THE DAY MURPHY CAME TO TOWN
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THE DAY MURPHY CAME TO TOWN
It was a tranquil day in the country town of Harkness in the early Spring of 1883. The citizens of the town were quietly going about their business. Some people were shopping at the General Store, while farmers were purchasing their requirements at the Feed and Seed Supplies. Others were standing around in small groups talking. The Chinese laundry had clothes hanging on their rope lines, drying clothes for those with enough money to use the service. The sun was going down and everything looked so peaceful.
A lone figure was seen slowly coming down the main street mounted on his matted mule. Corks hung from his bushman's hat to keep the flies away. It was Murphy the Irishman and he looked tiredfrom his long ride. Trotting alongside Murphy and the mule was the miner's faithful dog.
Murphy had been prospecting for six long months out near Badger's Creek. He wanted a bath,a soft bed to sleep in and was looking forward to a little bit of comfort for a week. Murphy came to a stop, slowly dismounted, which would have suggested to the casual observer that he had been riding all day. He tied his mule up to one of the many hitching rails in town. There was a water trough underneath the rail and the mule drank for the next minute. The Irishman cupped his hands and gave his dog a drink. He did this several times until the canine's thirst was quenched. Murphy had come to a stop outside the only guest- house in town, but before booking in he thought he would have a nice cold beer first. “Watch me things Nipper,” he said to his dog as he brushed off dirt from the trail. Murphy headed towards the Harkness Royal Oak, some forty yards down the street from the guest-house.
Nipper was of doubtful parentage, although more fox-terrier than not. He had been with Murphy ever since he was a pup. Murphy used to carry him on the mule until Nipper was strong enough and sturdy enough to walk for himself over the many miles that the Irishman sometimes travelled. They had an extremely strong bond and once Murphy gave him an order, well he followed it to the spot.
As Murphy downed his first cold beer in the Harkness Royal Oak, Nipper's hair stood right on end, he'd spotted a doubtful bloke. Petty thief Harry McGee had observed Murphy's arrival intown. He'd seen him alight, then slowly walk down the street and go inside the pub. He also saw how tired the Irishman looked and didn't think he would be back any time soon. McGee thought he might check out the bulging saddle bags that lay across Murphy's mule to see what they contained. After all everyone knew that Murphy was a gold prospector. He casually made his way over to where the mule was tethered, looking around to see if anyone was watching. Convinced he wasn't being observed he sauntered up to the mule.
The sleepy town of Harkness wasn't ready for what was about to explode. As McGee touched the lash on the saddle bag this was Nipper's signal to go right in. Nipper dove at McGee with an open mouth, just at the same time as the mule shuffled his feet a little as he felt McGee touch the saddle bag across him. Unfortunately, Nipper got the mule with a nip that only a fox-terrier can deliver and caused the mule to rear up in enormous pain. Murphy had only lightly tethered his mule as he never used to wander off. As the mule reared and bellowed he pulled the tethered reins free. With all the ruckus being created the petty thief turned to get away from the situation before it attracted a crowd and as he did the reins lassoed one of his arms.
The mule and McGee were now firmly attached, with the mule trying to get away from the dog that had bitten him so hard and McGee trying to get away from the mule that he was attached to.
The last thing Harry McGee wanted was being caught in the act of his light-fingered pursuits. McGee was now sprinting as hard as he could and the mule was bolting away from the dog, and Nipper was still bent on having thief for dinner. No matter how hard Harry pulled he couldn't free himself from the reins, although one would have to understand with a bolting mule right behind you this was a very difficult task.
Harry was now concerned for his safety. He couldn't distance his foe. He either turned or was pushed by the mule down the side of Lon Chee's laundry. Nipper was in hot pursuit. It had been a good drying day and Lon Chee had just emerged from his wooden building to start bringing in all
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the washing he'd hung out to dry. The poor Chinaman got the shock of his life as Harry McGee, the mule and the dog charged through his clothes lines, bringing them all down to the dirty red clay underneath. All the clothes were trampled and Lon Chee was knocked off his feet as he tried to protect his washing. Lon Chee let go some expletives in Chinese, picked himself up, then reached inside his doorway and came out with a hatchet in his hand. He was intent on slicing up mule and dog and a piece of Harry's hide. Lon Chee took a swipe at Nipper with his hatchet as he joined the chase but Nipper avoided the blow.
Harry hadn't been able to pull himself free of the mule as yet and as he left the laundry behind he headed towards the Harkness General Store. He figured if he could get onto the verandah he might be able to knock the mule free on the uprights that held up the verandah. He no longer had any thoughts of avoiding a mob, his whole focus had now turned to survival. With an angry Chinaman now behind him Nipper had added a couple of yards of pace to his speed, causing the mule to do the same as he didn't want to be bitten again. The mule was now pushing Harry in the back to a running speed that the petty thief was plainly unaccustomed to and he was battling to stay upright.
Old Pop Alcorn was asleep in his rocking chair on the verandah of the general store, but as Harry and his foe mounted the verandah a gasp replaced his snore. The mule did hit one of the uprights as it slewed sideways, bringing down one end of the verandah. Lucky Nipper was low enough to the ground to just dodge under the falling tin and wooden support as it came crashing down. Unfortunately, the Chinaman wasn't and he got levelled out by the falling roof of the verandah. Pots and pans flew in all directions, ones that had been so meticulously placed on display to try and entice customers into the store. Barrels of flower kept outside for easy access were turned upside down by a broad -siding mule. A huge plume of white powder ballooned into the air covering old Pop Alcorn and the store manager as he emerged from the entrance to his store. The enraged manager now joined the chase with a frightful frown on his face. Harry, the mule and the dog went off the other end of the verandah, which was still in tact.
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As a desperate measure, perhaps a last chance Harry now turned towards the Harkness Royal Oak.
This was a place he knew so well, somewhere he had spent a lot of time, in between his petty criminal activities. Unless he got rid of the mule and the dog he was sure it would be the end of him, one way or another.
Harry, the mule and the dog raced across the broad street towards the doors of the pub. They were followed by a tiring store manager, who shall we say enjoyed his food immensely and was being left behind. The barman was pouring Murphy his second beer as the patronage suddenly swelled. As the mule and McGee came charging through the swinging doors one of them was smashed off its hinges by the rampaging mule and flew like a missile across the bar room. It hit Murphy fair and square in the back of the head, rendering him immediately unconscious. After violently rocking forward and smashing into the bar, his body reeled backwards sinking to the floor.
This was now a scene of bedlam. The mule was knocking tables everywhere as patrons ducked for cover trying to avoid the flying furniture. They tried to seek any kind of refuge they could from the marauding mule. Some dove headlong over the bar, seeking this as shelter, while others left out in the open became victims of the side-swiping mule. One patron even climbed up one of the bar room poles to rise above the chaos down below. One religious patron, although I believe he might have been one of those instant conversions, started praying and miraculously was not hit. After about forty seconds of sheer destruction Harry headed out the back door of the pub. The mule also went out the back door taking half of the wall as well. Nipper was now dodging farmers and cattlemen's boots as they took aim at his small frame, and thinking things might be better elsewhere followed the mule out the now gaping hole in the back wall.
When Harry and the mule went through the door and then the wall of the pub the petty thief finally pulled clear of the reins and his attachment to the mule. He hurdled a fence at the back of the pub, safe at last. His body was gasping for air and he just sat on the other side of the fence for the next half hour trying to regain his breath. The happenings were enough to turn any self respecting thief off a life of crime.
The mule and the dog with no one to follow , found a lane way at the back of the pub and led by Nipper they found their way back to where Murphy had left them when he first rode into town.The mule was now pretty well satisfied that the dog's temporary madness had now left him and he felt quite safe waiting with Nipper for the return of their master. They puffed and panted as their bodies heaved and the day turned into night.
The pandemonium that had just occurred was something that Harkness had never seen before. Inside the Harkness Royal Oak there was a scene of devastation. Upturned tables and chairs, a gaping hole in the back wall and one swinging door at the entrance to the pub that no longer had a partner. Although the other door could be seen across the room laying next to a still unconscious Murphy.
Doc Gilmore had been sent for to treat the injured. Some of them had been stretched out on the bar waiting for treatment. Others had been put on the few tables that hadn't been wrecked and were turned up the right way again. There were people moaning and groaning everywhere. Different patrons holding various parts of their body. Doc Gilmore treated them in order of severity of their injury. One guy, Lanny Watkins, known as one of the toughest guys in town, seemed to be crying into his newly poured beer. Murphy was still laying on the floor out cold. When doc first looked at the Irishman he said you may as well leave him there. Nothing seems to be broken and hopefully he'll come to soon.
It was near on fifty minutes before Murphy came to. When he did he just lied on the floor for a while trying to get his bearings. As he surveyed the scene he saw people with arms in slings, while others had their heads bandaged with some blood slowly seeping through to the surface. The bar room looked like a stick of dynamite had gone off in it. Murphy felt the back of his head as it hurt so very much. When he brought his hand back around there was a little blood on it but not much. He sat up and rested there for about a minute. Doc Gilmore called out to him, “Glad to see you back with us.” A stranger helped Murphy to his feet. Murphy nodded to him but didn't say a word.
The Irishman started making his way towards the one swinging door still hanging by a single hinge.“Hey mister,”called Doc Gilmore, “I haven't checked you out fully yet, you better wait until I do.” Murphy didn't turn around, he just gave a half-hearted wave in the air and went through the now sorry looking entrance to the pub.
Once out in the darkened street he made his way ever so slowly back to the hitching rail outside the guest- house. Thank god I can rely on you two thought Murphy as he approached his mule and his dog. Murphy didn't unsaddle the mule, he didn't go inside the guest- house and book in. He somehow pulled himself up into the saddle and when the dizziness stopped from that small exertion, he turned his mule and started heading back in the direction he first came into town.
“If that's town life you can keep it,” Murphy said out loud as he rode away, “:Give the hills, the peace and quiet, not a bloody crude town foray.” Murphy thought his mule was going extra slow as he went down the main street. He couldn't quite figure out why he was so sluggish. He's been watered and he's had such a good rest, what's wrong with this beast. But when Murphy thought about it, he thought it might be him just misjudging the pace of the mule, after all he had been given a severe whack on the back of his head.
The matted mule was always a little bit wary of the dog after that day in Harkness, hoping that Nipper wouldn't have any more bouts of temporary madness. As for Nipper, well it took a few days for him to get his full confidence back. However it wasn't long before he was strutting alongside Murphy, ready to take on the world again, but only if Murphy said so. As for Murphy, well it would be many years before he would eventually return to Harkness. He didn't like the place much any more. You can't trust people thought Murphy, but thank goodness you can always put your faith in a good mule and a dog. Murphy looked down at his saddlebags and said to himself, “ Didn't even get a chance to get my washing done at the laundry.”
As for the town of Harkness, well it slowly recovered. After a few weeks the bar room was rebuilt and the General Store verandah was fixed up. The people involved in each skirmish gradually got over their injuries, although a few people still looked traumatised but they eventually recovered. However, it was a long time before the citizens of the town would ever forget about the day the mule and the dog tore half of Harkness down. Well, a fair portion of it anyway.
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