The larger, more fearsome Tiger Cats (Dasyurus maculatus) were also caught and often presented father with a problem when he attempted to extricate them from the trap.  Tasmanian Devils (Sarcophilus harrisii), those 'black hyenas' of the bush, would be found gnawing savagely at the chain wire of the traps; one had even managed to chew through the heavy gauge wire and escape.  We released these animals and often when we returned to view our results next day, would find the very same animals had been recaptured.  We were catching everything but the thylacine and father had quite a menagerie, bound for the Healesville Sanctuary, to feed and care for at the camp.  These animals required quite considerable time and effort when combined with his duties of scouting and trapping likely areas for the primary quarry.  Our roadside camp near the Collingwood River consisted of the bare basics with a large canvas tent living and sleeping area.  A kitchen was made from a smaller tent; wooden duckboards were laid underfoot because of the mud and slush from persistent rain.  We were washed out three times from that campsite, spending hours huddled together in the back of the truck sheltering from the storms and freezing rain.  February and March weather conditions were extraordinary; it could be blazing hot one day and snowing the next, or it rained continuously for days on end.  However, father worked tirelessly and towards the end of our four months of trials and tribulations his perseverance very nearly paid off, when only a slight miscalculation on his part prevented him from returning triumphantly to Victoria with a live thylacine.
 

As an added precaution father had taken to placing some heavily padded dog traps in front of the chain wire box traps.  He was certain that the tracks he had found in a wild area known as the "Poverty Plain" were those of a thylacine; the plaster cast of a footprint fitted them perfectly.  Also, while camped in the area, father had previously heard thylacine calls during the night there.  These strange calls which he likened to "the slow opening of a creaking door" had been verified by the old Tasmanian bushmen companions who had camped with him in that earlier stage of the expedition.

. Sigrid Fleay with Stephen, Robert and Rosemary on the button grass plain near the peaks of the King William Range.

    This was a "do or die " attempt.  Father had become worried about any possible harm being done to a thylacine with the number of padded traps he had set so he reduced the number.  This proved to be the unfortunate error of judgment which probably cost him success, for that very evening following heavy rain, and only ten days before we were due to leave Tasmania, the Poverty Plain thylacine approached the palisade containing a Bennett's wallaby.  Moving closer to the entrance of the box trap and the padded traps, the animal must have been cautiously moving forward in a crouching position, so it had been caught by an elbow instead of the paw.  In panic mode, the thylacine had managed to vigorously shake free of the trap and make a break for freedom.

    When we arrived on the scene early next morning, a desolate scene met our eyes; there were scuffle marks but also plenty of definite footprints in the soft wet ground.  Hair adhering to the traps was gathered carefully by father, and when the hair and some faeces found were later submitted to Dr. Pearson at the Tasmanian Museum, he verified that beyond any reasonable doubt they were from a thylacine.  If the full complement of traps had been left in place then perhaps father would have had one Tasmanian thylacine 'in the bag'.  It was a tragedy for him, truly the story of the big one that got away.  Since the 1930s, father had worked hard to study the thylacine; this must have been one of the worst moments of his life - all that dedicated, tiring work in such rough terrain and all for naught; surely this was the ultimate in frustration for him!
 

. The camp near the Collingwood River.  The Fleay family welcome Mr. & Mrs. Michael Sharland and children (two children on left).  Rosemary Fleay in striped jumper, Stephen on box at front, Sigrid Fleay standing in tent.

Father was extremely reluctant to leave Tasmania at this most interesting stage, but duty called at the Healesville Sanctuary, and he could ill afford to stay away any longer.  The traps were left in the capable hands of Roy Alderson and other bushmen of the area, but although these men worked tirelessly that Winter and the following Spring, no further encouraging results were forthcoming.  My father had left Tasmania with every intention of returning to mount a further expedition the following year now that he knew just where to concentrate his search, with the knowledge gained from this first-hand experience in the 1945-46 expedition.

    However, he was required to travel with three platypuses to the Bronx Zoo in New York, so unfortunately no further opportunity to secure a breeding pair of thylacines presented itself.  My memories of that fascinating trip to Tasmania 57 years ago remain very clear.  I can still almost smell the damp, woody bush, feel the hurt of physical exhaustion, the pain of not securing our quarry, and will always have the utmost admiration for the dedication of my parents, David and Sigrid Fleay, who tried so hard under the most difficult conditions to follow their dream and make a positive difference to the fate of that most unique wonder of the Australian marsupial world - the ever-elusive thylacine.

Rosemary Fleay-Thomson