1904 and a Premature Russian Invasion

The hard times in Queensland caused Dad’s two brothers, Harry and Frank, to migrate to New Zealand, from whence they sent back such favourable reports that Dad decided to follow them, which he did at the end of 1904. Just about this time there had been a great Russian scare in Australia, it being feared that an invasion was imminent. A Chinese market gardener used to hawk his products in our area in a couple of baskets swinging from a cane which he carried on one shoulder. We were always delighted to see his baskets bobbing up and down as he trotted along the street. He took a fancy to Arthur and me as he always got a good reception at our place and reciprocated at Christmas time by presenting us with a packet of crackers each. Since Mother thought that we were too young to appreciate such things, she put them away till we should be older. It was a Thursday afternoon and Dad was making a clearance preparatory to packing up, when he came across the four packets of crackers. In his opinion at least we were now old enough to enjoy some fireworks, so he planned something really worthwhile. In order to assure the maximum effect he placed them in a four gallon kerosene tin, tied the fuses together and applied a match . He had no sooner retreated into the house that the cannonade commenced. The din was terrific and in a trice threw the quiet street into confusion. The general impression was that the Russians had landed and taken the town by surprise. A horse broke out of his stable across the street and came prancing down to the front gate. The dog next door broke his chain and, dragging it behind him bolted from his kennel as if he had seen the devil himself. The neighbour's white cockatoo went out of its mind and set up a terrific sqwark as he endeavoured vainly to break its chain. The fowls escaped from their pen and went tearing about in all directions and pandemonium reigned as long as the cannonade lasted. The neighbours came rushing out of their houses to discover the cause of the commotion but it was nowhere to be seen. Not having foreseen such a rumpas Dad deemed discretion to be the better part of valour , and he discreetly kept out of sight, contenting himself with peering through the curtains at the commotion in the street.