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Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Sat Nov 03, 2012 12:07 am
by patritter
'The Drover' - Page 109:

Each took turns with the Nighthorse – soothing the resting cattle with their low country style singing.
Before the sun had time to rise above the broken sky all hands were on deck. Each had had their breakfast of a mug of tea and Johnny cakes.
Les took the lead and started the steep decent down the range.
It was dangerous at first because Les needed to be certain the cattle walked slow – one behind the other – and important not rush. If anything disturbed them there would be a catastrophe and there is nothing worse for a drover when cattle rush and in this case force one another over the edge to their death.
‘Easy does it,’ Les muttered when he let his horse guide himself down the side of the mountain. The ledge was wide enough for six cattle to walk along. A distance of about a quarter of a mile and they would be home and hose.
Whilst Les walked his horse at a steady pace the cattle followed in single file; the others kept a distance in the rear. Cattle are like sheep, if you have a leader than the others follow.
Harry and the others were at the rear end of the mob, he saw Les walking his horse making his way down the steep incline; a lump formed in his throat, if I didn’t have Les, I wouldn’t have taken the chance with going this way, the thought past through his mind.
With steady going Les finally reached the base of the range. It was open plain and he let the cattle walk at their own leisure waiting for the remainder to follow. Les felt a smile spring across his face, took a deep breath, he said to himself, ‘we made it – Harry was right - we did it.’ He felt like punching the air he felt great about the achievement.
By the time the remainder of the cattle stretched out across the plain, Harry galloped around to Les and said, ‘good on ya mate – I knew you could do it.’

Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Sat Nov 03, 2012 10:33 pm
by patritter
'The Drover' - Page 110:

‘We were lucky. You haven’t got any other bright ideas like this one, have you?’ He replied to Harry.
‘Not at this time. This was the toughest part and thank goodness you were with me. I couldn’t have done it without you.’
It was time for a rest to allow the cattle to graze and eat. They had another five miles to go before they reached the Wilson River.
‘Greg, could you ride onto the river; take five horses. Tell those other fellows everything is okay to help us take the mob to the river and tell them to bring back the dogs.’ Harry said.
Greg acknowledged the message from his uncle. He cut out five horses from the mob and with the packhorse drove them the five miles to the river where his aunt Rose had made camp. She was delighted to see him to know all the children was safe.
After the ringers saddled their horses they returned to where the cattle rested.
‘I want you lot to take fifty at a time to water’, Harry instructed his ringers, ‘cut out fifty and drove them to the water steady. After they’ve drank enough water let them graze on the plain and come back for another fifty. We’ll take the final fifty when we return to the camp.’
‘Okay Boss’, the spokesman replied and galloped off to fulfil his task.
Late that afternoon Harry and the others drove the final fifty head to the water. After the cattle drank sufficient water they joined their mates to camp down for the night.
Rose was pleased to see Harry but more pleased to see Claire and the other children, ‘how did you go with your Dad?’ She asked Claire when she rode into the camp.
‘It was wonderful – this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.’ Claire shouted with joy in her voice.

Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Sun Nov 04, 2012 10:02 pm
by patritter
'The Drover' - Page 111:

‘Let your horse go and have some dinner, I’ve cooked a roast dinner with pudden. I thought you’d be hungry after two days on the road.’
Claire unsaddled Dusty and let him go with the others. She returned to the camp and after eating her fill retired to bed. She was blissfully tired. Before going to bed she hand washed her body with a soapy sponge to clean the red dirt from her skin. It was too late for a bath in the river.

Days went into weeks and they followed the Wilson River to head toward the miniature town of Noccundra, the nearest pub for more than one hundred and twenty miles.
‘What about letting the boys and I go into the pub for a quiet beer?’ Les asked Harry when they camped down the cattle.
‘I don’t know Les. You know the rules, I don’t like drink in the camp.’ Harry remarked. It was like a red rag to a bull with liquor in the camp. Men get drunk and the next thing is they leave and there’s no one to finish the drive.
‘Yeah, well I thought one drink wouldn’t be too bad.’ Les said.
‘Sorry mate – you know as well as I do what’d happen if I allowed the men to have one drink. You know yourself, it wouldn’t only be one and the taste never leaves. We’ve got a lot of miles to go and we’ve only started.’ Harry confirmed to Les almost pleading for justice to keep away from the grog.
‘Okay – you’re right. I couldn’t stop at one and I know these other fellows wouldn’t stop.’ Les admonished.
Harry was pleased Les decided not to visit the hotel. Although it was the only hotel for miles, it was built in 1882 and still going strong.
Before daybreak the next morning the cattle were ready to move off camp. It was time to leave the winding Wilson River and head west toward Durham Downs cattle station.

Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Mon Nov 05, 2012 10:11 pm
by patritter
'The Drover' - Page 112:

Apart from Bulloo Downs, Durham Downs was the next largest property in the south west corner of Queensland.
‘I’ll be gone most of the day.’ Harry told Rose, ‘I’ll ride over to Durham Downs homestead and tell the owner I’m moving cattle through his property. After we’ve got through this place, it’ll take a couple of days; we’ll head for the Thompson River.’
As the sun set on the horizon Harry returned to camp. Les and the others had moved the cattle ten mile toward Durham Downs property and camped on the boundary fence. They used the corner of the boundary fence as a brake. Tonight would be easier to hold the cattle together.
‘Everything’s right to go through Durham, I spoke with the manager and he didn’t think it necessary to send one of his workers. I think he trusts me.’ He told Rose and Les.
‘We’re getting short on meat, Harry – you might have to kill.’ Rose told Harry.
‘Okay Les, let’s cut one out and butcher it.’ Harry commanded.
Les took the .22 calibre rifle whilst Harry rode in amongst the mob to select a killer. The cattle had retained their weight and didn’t look too bad, Harry thought. He selected a smaller size beast, ‘here Les, this one over here.’ Harry pointed to the beast he wanted Les to kill.
Les walked up to the beast; pointed the barrel of the rifle to the forehead of the beast and pulled the trigger. A slight muffled sound was heard but not enough to frighten the cattle. The beast instantly fell to the ground. Les put the rifle aside; drew a butcher knife from its holder. With precision he stuck the knife into the lower throat of the animal and plunged the blade into the heart of the animal. Blood oozed from the wound of the beast.
After the beast bled out, Harry threw a rope to Les who fastened it around the hind leg of the beast. Harry dragged the beast closer to the camp from the top of his horse. It was now dark and a bright moon shone to brighten the night.

Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Tue Nov 06, 2012 11:11 pm
by patritter
'The Drover' - Page 113:

Harry and Les went to work on skinning the animal, first laying it on one side and paring the skin away from the meat. After they finished one side, they rolled the beast over and began to do the same on the other side.
By the time most of the hide was separated from the beast they spread the hide to prevent any dirt from soiling the fresh meat. The beast was now positioned on its back with four legs pointing toward the sky. Harry opened the brisket with his knife and chopped through the hard chest bone with an axe. He opened the chest and sliced along the stomach to remove the heart, liver, kidneys and sweetbread. Sweetbread is a soft portion at the bottom of the stomach and when cooked tastes like chicken.
Cuts were made from the favourite portions of the animal, meat cut away from the rib cage; the bones of the rib cage chopped away with an axe to remove from the animal. The rib cage was taken in sections to Rose who instantly threw them onto the fire. At every killing there was no better dish to serve to the workers after a kill than having rib bones cooked on the coals.
The tender meat pealed away from each cooked rib bone and tasted like nothing else on earth. After the rib bones cooked on the coals of the fire; fat from the cooked rib bone dripped down the side of the mouth when chewing the meat away from the bone. It was the best feed ever.
When all of the cuts of meat were finished Rose salted them by rubbing course salt into the meat to save it from going rotten. There were no refrigeration facilities on the road. It was packed into hessian bags for storage. Salt was added to keep the meat from going rotten. After the meat was cut into various pieces; the hide was stretched to dry over night.
Early next day Harry used his pocket knife to slice the hide into one long piece of leather. He began to cut from the centre of the hide and continued in a circle. By the time he reached the end of the hide he had sufficient leather to either

Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Wed Nov 07, 2012 11:04 pm
by patritter
Thank you nevis: Here is the page for today: 'The Drover' - Page 114:

plait a whip or make a rope. It depended on time available during the day how much he worked on either making a rope or a whip.
This time he decided to make a rope. After attaching one end of the ride to a tree he stretched it to its length. Using a forked piece of wood he fastened to one end of the rawhide and started a twisting action. After each twist of the hide; he stretched it until the whole rawhide was made into the length of a rope.
Tying a weight on one end of the rope he mounted his horse and dragged the rope along in soft dirt to remove the hair from the rawhide. After which he rolled the rope into a coil and fastened it to his saddle. Whilst riding behind the mob he spliced one end of the rope and trimmed the excess of hide with his pocket knife. With the opposite end he folded a flap to make a running noose into a lasso.

Chapter 14

Harry rode the black stallion he’d captured at Mount Alfred. Falcon, coloured black suited the name of the stallion, athletic and a joy to ride. It is a good sign for a drover when his horse ambled along, a bit like slow pacing, giving the rider a comfortable ride in the saddle and the strength to go long distances. Harry was overjoyed with Falcon for when his horse was right, everything else was right. No other person was allowed to ride Falcon only Harry.
Harry left Durham Downs and followed the Thompson River west heading toward Eulbertie Station, about a fortnight’s journey. By following the river there was sufficient grass and water.
It was time for a bathe. Time on the road with a lack of water often provided the drover with many days of non-bathing, especially the children.

Pat Ritter. Books

PostPosted: Thu Nov 08, 2012 11:15 pm
by patritter
'The Drover' - Page 115:

One afternoon after the cattle were bedded down Harry called to the children, ‘what about you kids have a bathe.’
‘Do we have to?’ Claire sang in her childish voice.
‘Yes – you have to; all of you have to. There in the river and don’t forget to take some soap and wash behind your ears.’ Harry answered.
All of the children except the twins and Annie stripped naked and dived into the water instantly splashing and playing. The brown coloured water looked dirty but it wasn’t and shortly afterward with clean bodies they returned to the camp. Rose had dinner ready.
‘It’s good to have a bathe, Dad’, Claire told her father and sat beside him on a log near the fire. She’d dressed and waited for her dinner with the others. The camp was alive with children
--laughing and at times screeching with joy of feeling clean and happy.
After the sun passed beneath the horizon Harry and Rose left the camp and walked to the river for their bathe. The children retired to bed and all was quiet. It was so quiet Harry needed to whisper to Rose when they stripped naked and walked into the water. The moon glistened on the water and Rose couldn’t think of being in a better place with her man and what they were doing.
Since the start of the trip Rose put in many a long day caring for the twins, and Annie, only a toddler, whilst trying to keep track on the other children. She lay on her back to relax and said to Harry, ‘can we stay here for the rest of our lives.’ The water lapped her body to put her in a sense of total relaxation.
‘Wouldn’t it be great,’ Harry whispered, ‘how would the cattle get to Clifton Hills?’
‘I don’t care about the cattle Harry,’ she swung her arms around his naked body and pulled him close to her. She felt the nipples of her breasts harden and his body wrap around her as their lips met and a shuddering feeling travelled