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Waldo's poem: Mustering buffalo on Koolpinyah Station

Buffalo.
Buffalo. ThinkStock

MUSTERING buffalo on Koolpinyah Station sure has its ups and downs, when you're out there in a bull catcher bouncing across the ground.

The helicopters spot the herd and push the strays together and as the sun comes up in the eastern sky we're in for real hot weather.

The crew set up the round yard, run the hessian wings to the top of the gates, with Darryl-n-Steven, Waldo-n-Scotty and a couple of Chris's old mates. They jump into the catchers and hide under the woolybut trees, the choppers push mobs of buffalo as they dodge through the paperbark trees.

Then the catchers move into the round yard, push them through to the top of the race, then back for some more as Steven just swore when he copped heaps of mud on his face.

Paula hoses them down from the watering truck, and calms the herd standing under the trees, while the calves lie around in the dust in the ground and some stand in the mud up to their knees.

We sit down by the tree and knock off for lunch cooked by Tammy-n-Chelsie as well,

then we all sit around as some yarns are told like the dingo that drowned in the well.

Now it's time to load up for the truck has arrived, pushing four or five buffs at a time,

they buck and they turn, they won't bloody learn that it's easier to walk in a line.

Now the buffalo have been loaded we pick up gear, roll the hessian, pickets-n-wire.

Chris hands us a beer as we let out a cheer and sit on the log near the fire. As the sun is setting Scotty tells us a yarn about backpacking 'cross our vast great land, if he ever gets home he'll tell stories-n-poems the locals just won't understand.

© Waldo's Australian Bush Poetry.

Waldo & Sue from Humpty Doo NT.

Email: barrashack@bigpond.com


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