A NIGHT RIDE AFTER WILD CATTLE.
By An Old Idkstitv. Tw.i3 merry in the glowing morn, iiiuong the glenming grass, To wander ns we've wandered many a mile, And blow tho cool tobncoo cloud and watch the white wreaths pass ; Sitting loosely in the saddle all tbe while. 'Twas merry in the blackwoods, when we spied the; station roofs, To wheel the wild scrub cattle «at the yards, With a running fire of stockwhip and a iiery run of hoofs ; Oh ! the hardest day was never then too hard. Thus sang Adam Lindsay Gordon, the Australian poet; and bo realistic are bis descriptions of bush life that the man who has been at the work and can read his songs without feeling the blood rush through his veins must be apathetic indeed. It was, I think, much sach a scene as the one I will attempt to describe that the poet had before his mind when he wrote the lines quoted. Some years sgo a brother and myself owned a small run on the coast, consisting of long, narrow ridges running towards the sea, with patches of bush in the gullies — about as difficult a piece of country to work stock on as could woll be found. On it were betwoen 300 and 400 head ef wild, unbranded cattle, which had defied the previous owners to drive them off, and among them were some branded cattle which were claimed by the settler* on tho adjoining settlement as bavlcg strayed from their tamo cattle and joined the wild mob. These wild cattle were a source of much annoyanco and loss to us, as not only did they oat a large quantity of feed and tempt many of our so-called tame cattle to join them ; but tha farmers and stockmen in tha neighbourhood were continually trespaseing on oar land with the vain hope of recovering some of their lost cattle, and thus disturbing our sheep. We determined, therefore, to gab rid of them at any coat, and succeeded in purchasing for a few pounds the right to any branded cattle wo might drive off or shoot dpwn. We were anxious to drive them off instead of shooting them down, for two reasons — the principal one, of course, -being to get rid of them in the most profitable manner; and the other, to uphold our characters as stockmen by doiog what had been attempted by all the stockmen in the dietriot, and ab which they had signally failed. Somo weeks after purobasing the brand?, we were jogging home on a Saturday evening up ono of these long spurs, when tho writer, who waa lsacUng, c»me suddenly upon a mob of upwards of 100 head of the wild cattle quietly ljiog down in the hollow. To throw up my hand as a signal to my brother, jump off my horse, and whistle in my dogs was the work of an instant. Then followed a whispered consultation as to whether or not we should attempt to take them with ns. Aa our horsas wero fresh and we had our whipa and dogs with us, wo determined to havo a try at them. Ik did not take ua long to tighten our girths and surcingles, pub fresh crackers on our whip?, and arrange the plan of campaign, which was that my b/other should take the right, myself the left, and endeavour to rush them over the dividing range, some four miles ahead. Never shall I forget the maddening excitement, which was shared by horaes and dogs, as with loud shouts and orackiDg out long stockwhips we oharged down upon the cattle. Ttwy were of coarse up and off in a moment, but we had started them in the right direction, and kopt them goirjg aa hard as our horses could gallop, hoping to bo abla to rush them over the saddle without stopping. They had b«en tried too oft»n, and had always won the day, and they were determined not to be beaten now. Th«y soon slackened their speed and began to attempt to break back, and it was then that the tug of war began, as with loud yelli, hounding on our dogs, and thrashing the cattle with our whips, we endeavoured to force them on. Every now and then one of the bulla would charge oub of the mob, but by dint of hard riding and backed up by our dogs, who flew now at his head and then at hi« heal«, we succeeded in bringing him baok, for well wa knew that if wa lot ona away tha whole mob would, in spifco of all wa could do, soon havo followed. It was now dark, bufc we stuck to them, and were at last rewarded by Retting the mob over the range, down tho other side ef which they rushed with a wild stampede into a valley which circled to the right and l«ft of us, and oub of which a half-ohaiu wide road Hue led between two f enc93 towards the homestead. After giving our horses a few minutes' spell to get their wind, my brother agroed to follow tha mob and prevent them takiDg to the left, while I was to drop Into the valley on the right, down which we were protty certain they would go, and if possible stop them. I soon reached the valley, and as I cantered along threw matches into the long grass and fern, partly to assist ia stopping the cattle, and partly to give us light to S6e what we were" doing. I soon had the country behind me in a blaze. I met the cattle as with a wild rush they came on, the bulls in the lead, wibh their manes, nearly a foot Isng, standing erecb. After a bard fight, assisted by my dogs and tha glare of the fire, I succeeded in turning them back, wh«n they were met further up tbe valley by my brother, who, by practising the lame tactics, again stopped them, and we turned thorn up the road towards the station. I then had to push my way through tha mob to get to the lead so as to steady them, as at the pace they were going they would soon have knocked themselves up, and started rushing. This I managed to do, and , riding in front myself with my brother behind, we put them all into the stockyard just as day was beginning to break on the Sunday morning. After looking well to our horses, and making a billy of tea for ourselves, we were soon in blanket bay, well satisfied with our night's work. As a boy, now many years ago, I had ridden to hounds in one of the eastern connties of dear old England, and well remember the maddening f«eling of excitement that followed tbe cry, " Gone awxy," but for hard work, daring riding, and excitement, my brother and I will not readily forget that Night Ride Aftek Wild Cattle 111 Otago.
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Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2151, 16 May 1895, Page 47
Word Count
1,169A NIGHT RIDE AFTER WILD CATTLE. Otago Witness, Issue 2151, 16 May 1895, Page 47
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