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Wailing at the Wilga Waterhole BILL BEATIY Wilga Waterhole (in some. reports it is called Dilga) is in central-western Queensland and has been famous for its blood-curdling cry for over a hundred years. There have been many attempts to explain this unearthly sound, one being that the waterhole is very close to the Welford Lagoons where a man named Welford was murdered by Aborigines sometime last century. Various theories and conjectures can be offered, but never substantiated, regarding the Wilga Waterhole and the terrifying screams that have come from it for so many years. The Wilga Waterhole is part of the wandering Barcoo waterway, near Ruthven Station, on the way to Isisford, in central western Queensland. It is said that the noises were first heard by white men as far back as the 1870's. In any case, the records of this uncanny phenomenon are numerous. Many years ago, when the extraordinary screams and cries that occur at night in this waterhole of the Barcoo River were first heard by a party of bushmen, the story arose that they were made by a bunyip. As was inevitable, a long controversy began as to whether there ever was such a creature. But even the fabulous bunyip was never credited with emitting such yells and blbod-curdling screams as came from the Wilga Waterhole. The story is consistent always: nothing but a series of terrifying, fiendish yells and screams arising suddenly and dying away mysteriously to silence. It is on record that during the late 1890's a couple of shearers, on their way to a station in the Longreach district, camped by this waterhole one fine summer evening. Though it was dry weather, the Wilga Waterhole as usual was well supplied. After hobbling their horses, and leaving them to graze, the two men made tea over their campfire, ate their damper and salt beef, and smoked and yarned for some hours. The fire had nearly died down, the men began to yawn, and there was an uncanny stillness. Suddenly there came a soft, distant wailing that grew rapidly nearer and 1ouder.1 To the astonished men the cries appeared to be in different keys-devilish, unearthly shrieking, such as no human voices ever uttered. One thing was certain- the screaming, now ringing in their ears at deafening pitch, was coming from the waterhole. The shearers thought their ear-drums would burst, but they were too terrified to move. Then, to their fervent relief, the shrieking diminished in volume until it was merely a weird wailing. Moments later, it ceased utterly, and once more the bush was deathly silent. Throughout it all, not a ripple or movement marked the surface of the lagoon whence the noises had emanated. Without waiting for the dawn the shearers caught their horses and rode off. When the men told their story at the shearing shed it was received with derision by most, but others mentioned that the Wilga Waterhole was a notorious spot, and that the aborigines always avoided it. Some of the old shearing hands said that horses were scared of it and drovers admitted that they never could get cattle to rest there. There were instances where cattle driven from distant parts had arrived there almost exhausted but had stampeded at sundown. There is a very old story that a new hand employed at Ruthven Station built a slab and bark hut near the waterhole. He brought his wife to live there. She was a typical bush woman, sensible, practical, accustomed all her life to the loneliness of the outback. The couple had been there for but a short time when one night the husband arrived home late, having been delayed, to find his wife in a state of collapse. She could tell him of nothing she had seen, but that the most appalling shrieks had come from the waterhole. The stationhand soothed his wife, telling her that it must have been some nocturnal birds nearby, and that her nervous system was probably upset, thereby magnifying the illusion. The couple had known nothing of the evil reputation of the waterhole. It was taken for granted in the and had long ceased to be a matter of comment. Soon after this episode the station-hand was away for two nights. On his arrival home he found his wife hysterical. Crying and sobbing, she told him of the terrible screaming and wailing at the waterhole that had caused her almost to lose her reason. Forthwith the man packed up and took his wife away. At Ruthven Station he told the shearers the reason for his departure. The local hands were not surprised, but shearers from other districts scoffed at the tales told of this terrifying place. There and then a party of the visiting shearers decided to camp by the waterhole and brave the debil-debils, ghosts, bunyips, or whatever the unknown were. The men took every precaution to see that they would not be the victims of practical jokers or bush humorists. They had scouts posted whilst they sat round a roaring log-fire, swapping yarns and drinking billies of tea. Once midnight had passed the men put away their pipes and, with many a wisecrack about the silent spook, settled themselves in their blankets. It was a soft, low wailing that first reached their startled ears. But before they were on their feet it had increased to a yelling, screaming pitch such as each man knew was never uttered by bird, beast, or human. The shearers decamped in a body, some not even waiting to pick up their blankets. Of the many theories that have been formed as to the origin of the unearthly noises, one is that they are caused by a subterranean channel. The channel perhaps connects the Wilga to other waterholes, and, under certain conditions when the water rushes through, it causes the shrieking and yelling. Nevertheless, an exhaustive examination has failed to prove this theory or, for that matter, any other. So the wailing at Wilga Waterhole continues to hold its mystery.
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