Be Careful Where You Shove Your Jumbuck

Theme Thursday again . . and since I don't believe in ghosts and whilst my father might be attacking me on a daily basis with an ectoplasmic Big Bertha to try to grab my attention, perhaps I just don't have the 'sight'.

So I dug up a quintessential Australian ghost story. . . . now for those who haven't a clue what's going on:

A traveller and vagabond wonders the countryside relying on the goodwill of others. It's likely he's a rather scruffy fellow who isn't adverse to stealing food and being unscrupulous. Or perhaps he's just down on his luck.

He travels with all his belongings on his back, his utensils and sleeping in little more than a blanket which is rolled into a swag and is come to be known by country folk as a 'Swagman' or 'Swaggie'. There were many of them in the early days, making their way, itinerant workers or wonderers. Like all of us, his swag or bed has become a close friend and so he's nicknamed her 'Matilda'. Hey! He's a bloke, hardly going to call it Bruce now is he?

One day, probably in a stinking 45 degree summer, he camps by a creek that has all but dried up, leaving a large pond of water where he water is he deepest. This is known as a Billabong. He seeks the shade of a large eucalyptus tree to while away the hours.

He unpacks his beloved bedroll "Matilda" and builds a fire. Among his belongings there is a tin can with a wire handle anchored across it's diameter. This handy water-boiling, bean cooking, stew steeping can is known as a Billy. Fortunately for him, it's a pretty warm day and a couple of sheep or Jumbucks come down for a dinky die drinky poo.

The swaggie, seeing an opportunity, lobs on one of the Jumbucks and probably after helping it meet it's maker, stuffs it in his food carrying duffle bag, known as a 'Tucker Bag' because let's face it we all like a bit of pucker tucker.

Basically, this is stealing and even now considered a heinous crime. All would have been fine for our hungry Swaggie had the gore not soaked through his tucker bag or perhaps his jumbuck was still experiencing a few death throes and twitchy bits. Either way, his actions were seen by the 'landowner'. An opportunistic settler who had just fenced off a piece of Australia simply because you could in those days and who had become pretty wealthy off the fat of the lamb, discovered the plot and called the police . . so the "Squatter" and his three "Troopers" confront the vagrant about his theft.

The vagrant decides it's all to hard and life in the lock-up for pinching his dinner just isn't worth it so he takes a swan dive into the creek and drowns. Personally I think they probably held his head under!

The upshot of all this drama . . like Jason, the Swaggie comes back! He haunts the creek and sings his sad lament 'You'll Come a waltzing Matilda With Me'. Or is it a threat to any thirsty jumbucks, greedy Squatters or over zealous policemen who might venture there?

There's no mention whether the sheepy poo actually comes back as well!

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil,
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Up rode the squatter mounted on his thorough-bred
Down came the troopers One Two Three
Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Up jumped the swagman sprang in to the billabong
You'll never catch me alive said he . . . . . . .

And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong
"You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me . ."

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

The thing about this essentially Australian tune rather than the lyrics is that it has been adapted for ghosts of many kinds. It's a football anthem, a war anthem, a rememberence anthem. We all know the words, we all know the tune. It brings out a great pride in relation to the little guy and his death defying rebellion against authority and above all, a warmth in us that we all adore. But could I find a decent rendition of the tune? Must be a ghost in the machine.

Australian Guitarist Tommy Emanuel in the US:

Look, if you have the time and I know there are more blogs out there than jumbucks in the outback please go and have a look because there are some really interesting takes on the theme and some fantastic contributors. I look forward to this bit of the week more than most things so give 'em a bash. Oh . .and when I published this, the word ghost was in yellow . . I didn't colour it! Spooky!