William Shakespeare Hall
|Parents:||Sarah Theodosia Hall (née Branson)|
Henry Edward Hastings Hall
|Siblings:||Laetitia Hester (née Hall) (1822–1877)|
William Shakespeare Hall (1825 – 1895)
Theodosia Sophia Hester (née Hall) (1827–1898)
James Anderton Hall (1829–1888)
Edward Frank Hall (1832–1886)
Sarah Louisa Bracher (née Hall) (b. 1819, England; d. 1910, Victoria, Australia)
|Partners:||Hannah Boyd Hall (née Lazenby) (1849–1911)|
|Children:||Harold Aubrey Hall (1871–1963)|
Henry Ernest Hall (1869–1941)
Joy Hannah Emma Margaret Clifton (née Hall) (1876–1960)
William Shakespeare Hall Jr. (died in infancy, Cossack, 1878)
Grace Hall (died in infancy, 1875)
Please see the following Wikipedia article for more coverage of this topic:
William Shakespeare Hall
Two children lost
On the 11th December, 1834, two children of Mr. Hall, on the Murray, went down to the sea-beach to watch some soldiers fishing. One returned home soon after noon, but the other lost his way in the bush. At four o'clock next morning Mr. Norcott, accompanied by two white men and the natives Migo and Mollydobbin, who were attached to the mounted police corps, went out in search of the child. They soon came upon his track along the beach to the northward. The Europeans were quickly nonplussed, for a fresh wind had covered up the track with sand. Not so the natives. Their practised eyes traced the boy's wanderings four miles along the beach, when they intimated that he had turned into the bush. They followed his movements with astonishing minuteness, and led the way into an almost impenetrable thicket, through which they had to crawl on hands and knees. Loose shifting sand lay on the clear spots amid the bush, and thus their task was fraught with the utmost difficulty.
After about an hour's time the beach was regained, for the boy had only made a circuit inland of 400 yards. There the track was again distinct, and for five more miles, with occasional turnings in and out of the bush, they traced the erratic steps of the poor lad. Eventually even the natives were momentarily at fault, for the boy had entered another thicket which it was almost impossible for them to penetrate. But presently they cried out "me meyal geena," meaning "I see the footmarks." Their progress was now watched with the intensest interest by the white men, who viewed with ever-increasing amazement their acute perception. Through a dense mass of matted bush they forced their curious way, and when Mr. Norcott began to despair of success, the natives inspired his confidence by holding up a cap which was known to belong to the child. Again the track led along the beach until some sand cliffs were reached, where the wanderer had gone to an elevated spot. The wind had entirely effaced all marks of his feet in the loose sand, and it was an anxious moment for the search party. Migo was not daunted. Descending the hill, he persisted in making a circuit at its base, and after a little time he fell in with the track. But even here sand had obliterated most of the footsteps, and for nearly two hours the natives alternately lost and refound them. The party had nearly given up all hope of recovering the child when Mollydobbin saw a track on the side of a deep ravine. The natives went down into the ravine and commenced hallooing, hoping that the child might be asleep in the bush. Next they had to penetrate bushes and thickets more dense than any previous ones, and once again they emerged on the beach. Observing by the tracks that the child had been there but recently they pushed on with great eagerness, and at a distance of about 300 yards were delighted and gratified to observe the boy lying asleep on the beach, his legs idly washed by the surf. Another hour and probably the child would have perished, for the tide was rapidly coming in. Mr. Norcott galloped up to him, and calling him by name, the boy awoke and instantly jumped up.
The joy and delight of the two natives are said to have been beyond description. They had walked for nearly twenty-two miles with their eyes constantly fixed on the ground for ten consecutive hours, and they evinced such great anxiety as to the little one's fate that Mr. Norcott says he could not but applaud the noble disposition of these two savages.