Rambling Recollections,
By ROLLINGSTONE
WILD CA.TTLE HUNTING
< sAfU ) REAL old-fashioned wild fJPIIf' b usn bull nac * always a ¥!yM, powerful fascination for me. fjn^V I have a typical one in my * mind's eye now. He might have been first cousin to the old brindled outlaw, Tommy covered himself with glory by shooting on his uncle's run — but that is an old story now. These wild bush cattle were the descendants of beasts which had strayed from earlier settlers' herds, and taken up their residence in the bush back blocks far from the haunts of man. At times some of these outlaws strayed from their mates, and appeared amongst the cattle we and other settlers turned out to forage for themselves on the land, then owned by the Maoris, giving them what they considered ample remuneration for the privilege, and on that point we were quite willing to be guided by their opinion. In the spring our stock came out of their snug winter quarters in the neighbouring warm bush gullies, sleek and fat from feeding on the lower branches of the Karaka trees and similar delicate leaf fodder, to bask in the glorious sunshijne, and enjoy the complete change of diet which the juicy young fern-shoots on the open land afforded. Not having seen a human being for months the tamest cattle get Vo regard the race as one which it is desirable to keep at a very respectable distance, and our animals happened to be originally none of the tamest. We had several times seen from a distance the old patriarch alluded to above with a small mob of the wildest and choicest spirits of our
herd. They never ventured very far out into the open country, but fed near the edge of the friendly bush. He seemed to take special care of that. The few occasions on which we had a gun with us, he had dived into the dusky shades long before we could get within shot. He was a huge limbed, coarseheaded, rusty black brute, and evidently gloried in his strength as with a thunderous crash and rattle he tore his way through the dense supplejack-tangled bush, regardless of all obstacles, his head thrown well back, his mighty muzzle extended, and his wide-spreading horns turned swiftly from side to side to allow the thicker branches to slide off them instead of bringing him up standing. Talk about " the men who made the tracks " — a man is a mere amateur at the business, compared with a genuine old pioneer bull when his route lays through an apparently impenetrable thicket. At a tearing gallop, with his new adherents at his heels, he burst through entanglements which would tie up a man— if he had not his sheath-knife handy — or a horse, or paddock bred beast hopelessly in their own lengths. All sorts of reports had been circulated about this old black demon of a bull. The few crack-shots our settlement boasted had already been out, and, if they were to be believed, had managed to get to closer quarters than we had. They told us of marvellous shots they had made. They swore they had hit him every time, for they saw hair fly in clouds, but concluded his hide was too thick for an ordinary bullet to penetrate, for far from being-
maimed, he appeared to rather enjoy the tickling than otherwise. On several occasions he seemed to have frightened timid individuals, who had met him accidently, into the firm belief that he was charging them, when in all probability he was only seeking his own safety in a totally different direction, as they might have seen, if they had not been in too much of a hurry to look. At least that was how we interpreted many of the stories of hairbreadth escapes which filled the balmy air. That he would be only too ready to charge if in a tight corner, we did not in the least •doubt, but we had not much of an opinion of the parties referred to, we did not believe them capable of getting him into a tight corner, even by accident.
In any case, Bob and I considered it was quite time that we took a serious hand in the game. So one day we mounted our stock horses, and armed and accoutred for conquest — which meant in those days, when choice of arms was limited, double - barrelled, muzzle - loading fowling pieces, bullets, tomahawks and sheath knives — we sallied forth ■determined if possible not. to return ■without his hide.
It was a glorious spring morning, and the country we rode through with its pleasant alternation of magnificent clumps of bush, fragrant with the mingled scents of myriads of spring blossoms, and waving fern flats, could not be surpassed for beauty. The track was one made by the Maoris, winding intricately about, disclosing fresh beauties at every turn. Our horses were all that could be desired. Mv
mount Was a nuggety four-year-old •colt I had purchased for a song because none of his former owners •could sit on his back long enough to enjoy a ride. ' It was only after considerable practice and failures--with no spectators, I took all sorts of precautions on that pomt — that I succeeded, and thereby gained for myself a high reputation as a rough rider, of which earlier publicity
would have prevented the acquisition. Once not only his master, but his firm friend, he became, out and out, the best stock horse I ever got a knee grip of. Bob was a bad enough judge of horseflesh to disagree with me on this point, he always persisted that the nag he was on that morning was points ahead of mine in every respect. He was a horse with a past, too. We both had a decided predilection for animals with evil reputations, providing we got them in time. It ooat Bob a fiver finding out which of the two was the swifter. He would not take my word for it, so it served him right. But neither the loss of that, nor all my efforts to convince him as to my animal's general excellence were any good, though goodness knows I spent time enough over it. Anyhow, his obtuseness had its advantages, we were never at a loss for a subject of conversation to fall back on in slack times, and I always knew howto set Bob's jaw wagging when I wanted a spell myself.
As we slung merrily along at an easy canter on this particular morning, however, our chat was of our anticipated sport. We agreed that there was only one thing; wanting to make life on this beautiful earth of ours so supremely perfect that we would not care to leave it for any future happy hunting ground of them all. The one thing needful was of course to get within range of that old ruffian of a bull. As we approached the flat on which we expected to find him, we pulled our horses into a walk. Biding down a winding cattle track through sweetly scented manuka scrub, we got our first view of the open ground below, and there where the bush swept down to its further border was the mob of cattle which the old veteran had so recently deigned to take under his fatherly care. With a field-glass we scanned every inch of the flat for him in vain. There were beasts of all possible colours save black. Not a solitary one that, could possibly be he ! This seemed
strange, and was distinctly annoying. The fern, having been recently burnt off, was of too short a growth to hide such a huge beast, if lie should happen to be lying down. We knew no one could possibly have shot him without making such a song about it as would have gone from one end of the settlement to the other, and it was not the least likely that he had voluntarily left his new found harem.
There was of course the chance that he was in the bush a few, hundred yards behind the other cattle. Jf so, he might appear at any moment, for they were busily feeding. We waited where we were until our patience was exhausted, and then decided to work our way warily round the scrub that bordered the bush, getting as near the cattle as possible, and there to await results. We felt that we could safely ride some distance farther as the manuka was high enough to hide ourselves and horses, when it ended wo should have to dismount and creep quietly on foot through the heavier bush where the twining supplejack prevented the passage of our horsey.
Once let the cattle get sight or wind of us, they would be off into the bush like redshanks. We had dogs with us, but they would be useless as far as bailing, up the cattle went. We could certainly rely on them following the scent of some of the mob, and by this means we might possibly have got within shot of them after a long trudge through the bush. But wild cattle invariably split up when chased, and we might, more likely than not, find ourselves following the trail of any of the others rather than the bull. No, we were not in the humour for that sort of amusement. We meant to get the old gentleman in the open, or as near it as possible. We therefore proceeded to carry out our plan. In single file we urged our horses along through the thick scrub. Bob was riding in front. I always allowed him, or anyone else that hankered after it, that privilege in rough country. It
is just as well to do so, one is so much better able to avoid hidden holes or swamps when one sees one's, comrade flounder into them.
But it was no hidden morass which made Bob draw rein suddenly, and signal excitedly but silently to me to do the same. What could it be ? I was not kept a moment, in suspense.
Bob's gun was up to his shoulder in a jiffy. A loud report, a mighty roar of pain, a heavy crashing followed by a dull thud which shook the ground like an earthquake. Simultaneously, a few paces only in front of Bob, I caught a glimpse of a huge black body rear up in the tangled scrub, and fall heavily on its side, mowing down the tough manuka for yards around.
"By gum ! " said Bob. " Lucky 1 spotted him ! The old warrior must have been dozing, or he'd haveheard us coming 1 . Just caught sight of the white part of one of his horns glistening through the bushes, and popped where I judged his forehead would be. Gripes ! if I hadn't seen it, another moment and the old moke would have been on top of him, and there' d have been the devil to pay and no pitch hot, in a hole like this, with no room to slew round ! "
We pushed bur horses on a yard or two, and Bob threw his leg over the pommel of his saddle to slip cff in leisurely manner as was his custom, exclaiming : " Stone dead, by the Lord Harry i! It was a great shot considering I only saw his horn. Clean between the eyes. If his head hadn't been well dropped, the bullet would have glanced off even at that distance, the beggar's skull is like the side of an ironclad."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when, with a sobbing husky apology for a roar, in which defiance rang superior to pain, the mighty head was raised. Indomitable fury filled Ms bloodshot eye, blood-streaked foam fell from the wide-spread nostrils, and blood poured from the round holei in the
broad matted forehead. He staggered to his knees, and hurled himself with all the remaining force at his command at Bob and his horse, then fell over again on his side never to rise again.
" Crickey, that was a close shave ! " exclaimed Bob, as the under horn ploughed up the ground where a moment before he and his horse had stood. " If the brute had had an ounce more life left in him, he'd have been on top of us.''
Tangled up in the thick scrub as we were, we had certainly displayed a surprising lack of caution in approaching' such an enemy. I felt this instinctively, and as Bob was still in front, and I quite two feet behind him, I felt perfectly justified in rating him for his careless disregard of danger, telling him he might have had some consideration for his poor horse, if he hadn't for himself. T never liked to lose an opportunity of giving Bob the advantage of my superior knowledge, and just now I was a trifle sore, for I felt that my considerate politeness in allowing him to precede me in riding through the scrub had given him the chance of the shot which had brought down the bull, and raised him immensely in his own estimation, which I thought a pity. He did not heed my wellmeant reproof, for the silly beggar was positively beside himself with the honour and glory which he considered he had achieved.
We now had time and opportunity to make a close inspection of the fallen patriarch. He was certainly a grand specimen of his class. One could scarcely believe that he came of the same species as the sleek, pampered, squarely-built shorthorn, the contrast was so exceedingly striking. Black as your hat along the ribs, shoulders, and flank, shiny and well-groomed with constant brushing through thick scrub ; <>n the back and limbs the hair was much longer, and showed a rusty tinge turning to a decided tawny on the neck and head, for he had a mane like a badly hogged Maori
pony. His proportions were huge, and the amount of flesh he carried could have only been acquired in the exceedingly rich feeding ground of a bush little frequented by cattle, and we marvelled how he could be so agile with it.
Our next business was to secure the horns and strip off his hide. The former were an exceptionally fine pair, deeply serrated with black rings which denoted extreme ago, then glistening' white, with black points brilliantly polished with constant use, breaking- down branches of trees for provender. The hide was abnormally thick, and the number of bullets we found embedded in it made us think we had misjudged the accuracy of aim, the marksmen previously alluded to had possessed. We formed a better opinion of them on the spot. Bearing the fact in mind that hides are sold by weight, we did not trouble to cut them out. Taking it in turns to carry the bulky bundle in front of our saddles, we rode leisurely home. Several of our friends met us on our return, and noticing the spoils of the chase, the news flew round the settlement that a soft spot— comparatively speaking — had been found at last in the old veteran's hide.
Bob made a great point of the clever way we had stalked the animal, and asserted that he had always known that unless fellows went out who were cute enough to get within a very* few yards, and literally chuck the bullets into him he might as well be peppered with a pea shooter, for all the harm it would do him. He said that he could not understand any fellows being such fools as to dream of bringing down a bull like that at an ordinary range. It was only flinging away lead, and allowing, smart fellows like us to make a good haul by selling it second-hand.
I nearly strained myself in refraining from checking Bob's highly imaginative description of the stalk, and thus correcting the erroneous impression he conveyed of his prowess as a mighty hull hunter. But I
did refrain, and was rewarded by the amusement the thought afforded me of how the lad would have fallen in the estimation of his hearers if they knew that we had been as nearly caught napping as we caught the old ruffian, when we nearly tumbled over him in a spot where we had never dreamt of finding him. However, he was slain, and all is well that ends well, and it must be admitted that the hunt had ended well for all concerned except the bull, but then, it is impossible to please everyone.
On the whole, our cattle speculations were remunerative, and we enjoyed the wild gallops over country, which really was not fit to ride over, as only lads of our age could. As giving more prolonged pleasure we perhaps preferred a day spent with whip and dogs, mustering our own cattle with perhaps, a stray wild heifer or two amongst them, to the shooting excursions of which the above is an example.
The open country in the North is a curious mixture, strips of gum land, deeply dug in awkwaiv* hotas for this useful commodity by the Maoris (who in those days were practically the only gum-diggers, whites considering the occupation too degrading) lay side by side with rich chocolate volcanic land. Here the ground was thickly strewn with rugged stone heaps, gathered by the Maoris of successive generations, when one portion after another had been used as kumera gardens, and " allowed to drop out of cultivation. Thickly matted fern of different degrees of luxuriance according to the nature of the soil, alike hid these obstacles from view. But over them we had to go if we wanted the cattle. It was highly exhilarating work, and if we came a cropper or two, we got up again with no bones broken, thanks to a more than usually merciful providence.
We took a special pleasure in purchasing 1 as cheaply as we could, any settler's cattle which had strayed and become so wild that the owner
had given up all hope of ever recovering. Many a gloriously reckless gallop we had after these. One old liver and white cow which cost us some fifty odd shillings, beat us for three or four years, but she was prolific (twins on one occasion, I remember), and we eventually received a handsome cheque for her and her progeny. Beef was high that winter.
One day Bob and I had a serious difference of opinion about something connected with our partnership. 1 don't remember what it was all about, except that 1 was of course in the right. Bob was always inclined to be hot-headed, and he declared he'd dissolve the partnership on the spot. I begged him to wait till he was cool and fit for business. He distinctly refused to wait a moment, and declared hotly that he was never cooler in his life. We were out on the run at the time. 1 let him have his way. It seemed the easiest thing to do. We knew the colour of every beast we had, and Bob, in the absurdly dictatorial way he had on these occasions, ordered me to toss up a coin on the spot. The one that won the toss was to have first pick, and then each pick alternately all down the list.
There were two magnificent fat four-year-old steers, the others were stores as the rest of the fats had been sold. At a time when beef was fifty shillings a hundredweight, these steers were each worth at least live pounds more than the stores. But one of them was regarded by us as being much more valuable than the other, because he was running with a. quiet lot of cattle close at hand, while the other was as wild as he could well be, chose his company accordingly, and haunted a very awkward bit of bush. We had often tried to get him in and failed.
Bob won the toss, but in his flurry he entirely forgot tlie best steer, and choose the best- of the stores. " I warned you, Bob, my boy, that you ought to wait till
you were cooler, and fit to transact business. I really scarcely like to take advantage of you in this state/ I exclaimed, as 1 quietly selected the fat fellow. He was furious at his mistake, and did not take the remark at all in the kind manner in which it was intended. We then chose alternately some of the best stores. Then seeing. Bob was not anxious to possess the wild four-year-old, I selected him, trusting to luck to get him in before beef fell in price. Scarcely a week after this occurred we were out for a riding party Bob had organized. He had asked me before we had the difference of opinion, and I was not going to let a little thing like that stop a certain young lady of my acquaintance from enjoying herself. I did not think it right. Half way to our destination we saw some cattle feeding and amongst them was the wild brindled steer. They were in fine 1 open country, where securing them was only a question of hands enough and hard riding. The riding party, ladies included, all entered into the
fun except Bob, who made some excuse about his horse. Off we went, helter skelter, and after one of the most enjoyable gallops I ever had, the cattle were safely yarded.
I never remember seeing a prettier sight. The mob of frantic cattle of every conceivable colour tearing in all directions over the plain ; the vivid blue of the sky, the sober green of the fern and the many shades of the bush hills which formed the background ; the graceful figures of the girls, perfect horsewomen as most bush girls are, flying about and doing quite as much as the men to counteract the attempts of the maddened beasts to break and strike a line for freedom.
Poor Bob rode sulkily home by himself, for, to add to his disgust, his girl, mounted on his pet horse, was foremost in the chase, and she chaffed him unmercifully afterwards, for what she termed " funking it." Bob had another difference of opinion then, and another partnership — or what would very soon have been one — was badly broken up. I never saw such a fellow in my life.
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VIII, Issue 2, 1 May 1903, Page 91
Word Count
3,744Rambling Recollections, New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VIII, Issue 2, 1 May 1903, Page 91
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