Moondyne joe

MOONDYNE JOE Backalong i wuz a miner, a shaver with a sharp tongue Anyways the beak in Brecon judged me mettlesome grub and bub, yer see Snitched for three loaves, cheese and a flitch of bacon Transported on the Pyrenees to WA for a measly ration Where i nailed the swells’ montras, then fenced the goods Wuz fenced by a thousand nails in the wooden quod aye, i wuz a prig, a fly prad-knapper Borrowed the squatters’ prancers, duffed ‘n’ sold ‘em back And cheeked it out with that bleddy beak in black Boned in stone, bound in sleepers of redwood jarrah Slanged up by me throttler to an iron bar wot’s narrer doing Fremantle time for bird lime A ken where light was barred, guards locked out the air But i wuz alway a bona bolter, a canny chancer rare But in the yard the maggots got me bending me back Cracking nuggety lumps not lugged away in sacks stone-blind as bats, they wuz For when i went a-ducking behind all that pile o’ rubble i slung me hammer at limestone in the outer prison wall

In my cave of karst, i’m no more accussed Moondyne i calls it, deep, dark and must certain, i’m cull of this ken Dimpled chambers and cavities, cellars and ceils Twixt overhang and potholes, i cool my heels Neath this wide sky dome, by all that’s blue i dread my doom, I’ll take what’s due half-flash, half-foolish ‘Pon my pink patch of marl mid reddish scrub Where horizon’s rim never ends, i sits ‘n’ grub Michael Small December 6-21, 2015

Joseph Johns, nicknamed Moondyne Joe, was born in Cornwall in the south-west of England. Found guilty of burglary and stealing, he was transported to Western Australia in 1853. He was imprisoned in Fremantle Gaol for horse-stealing, but escaped from hard labour to Moondyne Cave. He possessed an argumentative nature and a talent for escaping the law.