In 1845 Anna McDougal was getting used to her new home in Geelong Australia. Her husband had moved the whole family from England and Anna wasn’t thrilled with the move to the penitentiary colony. They had two young boys, and the creatures, wildness, and harshness of Australia made her nervous.
Her husband, John consoled her fears with pictures he had taken of the area; showing her how beautiful it was. She took their laundry down to the river to clean them every other day. While she beat the clothing against the rocks, she allowed her boys to play nearby. So long as they stayed within her eyesight, she was happy to let them run and play, like the precocious little kids they were.
One beautiful Wednesday in June she packed a luncheon and took her boys, and her laundry, down to the river as her usual routine dictated. While John Jr and WIlliam splashed each other and swam about in the shallows, Anna cleaned their clothes. As she was busy soaking, beating, rubbing clothes with a bar of lye soap, and soaking again she missed the first signs something was amiss.
There were no birdsong or frog noises, the entire river had gone almost silent until the screaming began.
“Mother, help!” William’s voice sounded more scared than she had ever heard; she left the clothes where they were and hastened to him.
“Where’s John Junior?” she asked.
“It took him,” William pointed at a long black mass in the water, with a long neck, fins, and what looked to be the head of a bulldog.
“What is it? John! Bring back my son! Now!” she shrieked at the creature.
It turned to look at her, gave a snort, and dove under the calm blue water.
She waded out into the river, while William screamed at her, “please come back, Mother, please! I am frightened! I don’t want it to take you too!”
“Will, run to the neighbors, get help,” she said as she took a deep breath and dove under the placid surface to get her boy back from whatever nightmarish beast she had seen.
Scanning her aquatic surroundings, she saw the black mass a little ways off and swam to it, attempting to catch up, even though her petticoat weighed her down.
What she didn’t see was the other creature behind her.
It had been watching her from the moment she dove in and had followed her as she followed the creature she believed had taken her son. She was lucky as it swam away from her, completely unnoticed.
Clawing her way to the surface, Anna took in another deep breath before diving back down. By the time she got back, the creature had vanished, and with it, any chance of finding her little boy.
She looked around, panicking, believing him fully lost. She swam back to the bank to wait for help to arrive.
The first people to arrive were the neighbors; an aboriginal family. They coaxed her away from the water and made her sit on the picnic blanket she had brought.
When they asked what happened, she described the creature to them and said it took her boy.
The couple looked at each other and then back at Anna, “sounds like a bunyip took him.”
“What is a bunyip?” she’d never heard of this type of animal before.
“A devil creature. It takes children and women from the banks of the river and eats them. I am so sorry about your boy,” the man told her.
“No! I must get him back!” she shrieked and wept.
“If a bunyip took him, there is no getting him back. Though let’s look along the bank of the river in case your boy broke free,” the woman shot her husband a dirty look and helped Anna to her feet.
Together they searched the whole bank, finding only the boy’s hat and jacket.
“He’s gone,” she cried.
“I’m afraid so. Is there some way I can help?” the woman asked.
“Bring my baby back to me?” Anna broke down in sobs as the neighbor lady tried to console her and the neighbor man continued to search the bank of the river, as well as the river itself.
Unfortunately, John Junior was never seen again.
Anna went on to educate other women about the dangers of the bunyip and how parents must be ever vigilant when they, and their children, are beside a body of water.
William would refuse to go near the river from that day on, and her husband would accuse Anna of hurting their boy, regardless of the neighbor’s corroboration that a bunyip lived in the river and often ate children and women. John would leave Anna, and his job, to take up drinking in Sydney. Sometimes he sent her money to take care of William, but mostly he drank any profits he gained.
Anna would spend the rest of her life coddling William and refused to let him out of her sight near any type of water, even seeing him too close to a puddle could leave her shaking and sweaty. With her son and husband gone, Anna was a broken woman. Though she chose to educate others, she often went to the river by herself–with a rifle–looking for the creature that had stolen her son, her life. Much like John Jr, she never saw it again.
