Free Great Australian Ghost Stories by Richard Davis

think straight. All I knew for certain was that I was in the grip of some deadly struggle and that something no longer alive and just feet away was robbing me of my own life force!’
    Then mercifully, just as Matheson felt himself being sucked — body and soul — into the light another sound intruded on what was left of his consciousness: the sound of the commercial traveller’s wife screaming. The instinctive urge to go to the aid of woman in distress made Matheson turn and run back to the cars. He believed his life was saved at that moment.
    The three travellers quickly gathered some sticks, paper and petrol and started a fire, then huddled in its cheerful light all night, listening to the distant, terrifying and increasingly desperate cries of ‘Help! Help!’ drifting towards them on the wind. As dawn approached the sound faded and finally could be heard no more.
    Jim Matheson searched the paddock in daylight but could find nothing remarkable. Later he related his experience to a local cattleman. ‘You were lucky,’ the cattleman said. ‘Astockman once heard the ghost crying for help and went to it. He was dead when they found him and his face was not a pretty sight. Some people believe his spirit took the original ghost’s place and that the stockman has been trying to catch another victim ever since. It could have been you out there tonight, Jim, crying for help.’

8.
The Ghosts in the Glen
    Over a pitfall, the moon dew is thawing,
    And with never a body two shadows stand sawing,
    The wraiths of two sawyers (step under and under),
    Who did a foul murder, and were blackened by thunder.
    Whenever the storm-wind comes driven and driving,
    Through the blood-spattered timber you may see the saw striving,
    You may see the saw heaving and falling and heaving,
    Whenever the sea-creek is chafing and grieving.
    Ghost Glen , Henry Kendall (Australian poet, 1839-1882)
    Australian red cedar was often referred to as red gold in the nineteenth century. Its durability, fine grain and lustrous colour made it a favoured timber for panelling and furniture-making. Cedar cutters were the first white men to arrive in many areas and fortunes were made from its export while irreparable damage was done to the continent’s native forests.
    Cedar cutters were a rough, tough breed and there were none rougher or tougher than those who pillaged the dense forests of the south coast of New South Wales. Since 1802 it had been necessary to obtain the governor’s permission to log cedar, but most of the cutters who established a base at what is now Kiama around 1815 were convicts holding tickets-of-leave, who did not give a toss for the governor or his laws. There is no better illustration of the types of men that roamed this wild country in those far-off days than the story of theGhosts in the Glen — one of Australia’s most durable ghost stories. It’s survived almost 200 years; a gruesome real-life melodrama in which the characters are divided into good and evil, innocent and corrupt, with biblical clarity.
    The story begins one wet and windy night in the mid-1820s when a young Englishman accompanied by a large, brindled sheepdog entered the inn at the tiny settlement of Kiama. The young man had just arrived from England and was on his way to take up work on Alexander Berry’s property, Coolangatta, at the mouth of the Shoalhaven River. The bar room in the inn was filled with rough characters in various stages of drunkenness. A wiser man might have kept his own counsel and his money concealed but the naïve young Englishman offered to shout drinks for the whole company and displayed a purse fat with gold sovereigns. As the night wore on the young man became drunk and only two ruffians remained to keep him company. Eventually he rose unsteadily to his feet, whistled his dog and announced he had to be on his way.
    â€˜Now listen, chum,’ said one of his devious companions,