The Drifter
The road dusted red to the homestead, I arrived at the — DoubleJB, and tethered my horse near an old shed in the shade of a peppermint tree.
To the front of a rusted farm gate stood a jackaroo meeting my gaze. He said. ‘You looking for a job mate? Are you willing to help a few days?’
‘I’ve been told you need men for a ride; who are seasoned, with steel in their veins. So, I’ve ridden— to be by your side— and embrace the dry heat of the plains.’
‘Then come forward, and join us, my friend; spend some days chasing dust and the flies— a-droving on our stations top end with the sun putting squints in your eyes’
‘Well, I’m only, here for a short stay, and I’m eager to show what I’ve got; I’m outspoken, rough, in a hard way, but, it’s me, and I’m not what I’m not.’
So, I signed as one of the crew to muster the station’s wild cattle. There were days of tough riding to do; move in, wheel, turn heads, win the battle.
We shifted through spinifex and scrubs by billabongs, and western rivers. Drove into towns with bleary-eyed pubs, then onto red soil, sand, and gibbers.
It was sunup when we found the mob scattered loosely under Brigalow, with whips a-cracking we did our job, chased them, flicking their tails, on the go.
Outriders, working the flanks at a pace fanning their hats in the yellow haze; as ‘whooping’ stockmen raced into place, keeping the line, and capturing strays.
Then down into dry gullies we fled, thick dust screwing, as smoke, in our wake; while the rampaging beasts up ahead shook the ground like a rumbling earthquake.
At the wheel we spun round in a bound, our mounts on the lean; mouths dripping foam, and shifting our weight— made for flat ground while straightening the mob towards home—
Tanned bodies trickle slivers of sweat, while deft hands, slacken off, on the reins. ‘We’ll strike fences by sundown, I’ll bet— and our empty paddock on the plains.’
We continued into the grey light— yarded eight hundred head on the run, and returned to our bunks at midnight our long days in the saddle were done.
This morning I fetched the grey mare and I set-off, at dawn, down the track to descend to the cool coastal air with a hot western wind at my back.
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