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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Oct 31, 2017 10:36 pm

'The Drover' - Page 115:

Clouds of dust covered the horizon followed by howling wind. It was similar to a tsunami but instead of forcing its wave from the ocean, crossed the dry dirt plain. Rolls of dirt struck the men riding horses, each attempting to control their animal and keep their post to prevent the cattle from stampeding. It would only take less than a minute until it was gone.
Harry and the men rode out the storm and watched it pass without incident. Next it attacked the camp blowing its forces toward the truck and the family. Dust storms are dangerous and many a time people have been seriously injured by flying debris and other material when caught in the eye of the storm.
The storm by-passed them without incident, Rose had done everything possible to prevent any accident. Harry rode to the camp after checking he didn’t lose any stock to check on his family. Everyone was safe.
At the camp that night the children’s voices buzzed with stories of how they were scared and thought they’d never see their parents again. After a hearty meal all went to bed with visions of the dust storm almost blew them away.
The only problem with dust storms in the open they leave behind a film of dirt which imbeds into everything. With constant shaking and dusting of bed clothing and everything else finally rids the dust from its hiding place. Another problem is for the next few days afterwards eating the taste of dust is evident in everything.
Harry couldn’t complain about the trip to this point. Apart from a couple of minor hic-cups nothing untoward had happened. They were one day out from Eulbertie Station. He told Les to keep the cattle going while he went ahead to speak with the owner of Eulbertie Station about passing through his property. He’d stay overnight and return the following day and meet them near the boundary fence.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Nov 01, 2017 10:42 pm

'The Drover' - Page 116:
After Eulbertie Station the stock route followed across the Beal Range. Tributaries of the major rivers flowed through Eulbertie Station and Harry knew there may be little water supply before he hit the Diamantina River. All of these rivers formed what was known as the channel country. After a good season all of the rivers flowed through this harsh country turned it into lush green pastures however; when the rain didn’t arrive it was likened to a desert, dry and hard. There hadn’t been good rain in this region for the past five years and the drought was biting deep.
Harry met the mob on the boundary of Eulbertie Station late on the afternoon of the second day. He’d been given permission by the owner to travel his stock through his property. Harry didn’t need any person to accompany him because his name was one of being honest as the day is long.
They moved the cattle through the property clear of any trouble. Their next stage was crossing the Beal Range. It was smaller than the Grey Range and Harry couldn’t envisage any problems with his aboriginal workers. They crossed through Eulbertie Station and camped at the base of the Beal Range.
After having their meal, two of the aboriginal ringers rode around the camped mob singing their ancestors song. Without notice one of them spurred his horse and galloped around the mob to his companion. In the night sky he saw bright lights just above the horizon. The cattle stood and started to move off camp.
Harry was asleep in the back of the truck; he awoke - things weren’t right, something was wrong. He dressed, saddled Falcon and stirred the others to help him with the cattle. By this time all of the cattle were standing and started to move off camp. He didn’t know what stirred the cattle and by the time he reached his two aboriginal ringers, they jabbered something and pointed at flicking lights on the horizon.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sun Nov 05, 2017 11:28 pm

'The Drover' - Page 117:

He’d seen these lights before, many years before, he thought aliens were coming after him and he hadn’t had a drink.
Five aboriginals rode toward him, ‘we aren’t going on boss – spirits are chasing us. We’re off.’
With the words hardly out of their mouth the five aboriginal stockmen galloped away from the mob and before Harry could call them back, they vanished. Les and Greg joined Harry, ‘where’re they going?’ Les wanted to know.
‘They’re gone and taken my bloody horses and saddles with them.’ Harry questioned.
‘What’d they do that for uncle?’ Greg asked in an inquisitive voice.
‘They saw those lights flicking out there on the horizon and thought they were spirits chasing them.’ Harry replied.
‘Don’t they know it’s only the min min light? Les answered.
‘What’s a min min light?’ Greg asked.
‘When I was your age I was droving with my father and holding cattle out one night. My horse spooked when I think we each saw this light flicking above the bush.’ Harry told his story.
‘I’ve never seen one before.’ Greg intervened.
‘When it happened I asked my father about it and he told me to gallop over and chase it, which I did. I rode at a gallop for a couple of miles and couldn’t get near it. I gave up and returned to camp. When I was near the camp the light flickered again, it was just above the bushes. I’d had enough; I told my father I couldn’t catch it because it kept moving.’
The light continued to flicker above the bushes on the horizon.
‘They’re gone and won’t be back, you know Harry.’ Les told his brother-in-law.
‘We’ll keep going. I can’t worry about them. We’ve still got a long way to go. I’ll stay on watch, you two go and have a sleep and relieve me before daylight.’ Harry finished and rode Falcon around the cattle singing his favourite tune saddle boy.
All through the following day Harry moved the cattle with Les and Greg. Claire helped. They crossed the Beale Range and made camp on the other side close to the South Australian/Queensland border fence. Les rode up to Harry and said, ‘I know where those fellars have gone.’
‘Where?’ Harry wanted to know.
‘They wouldn’t have got further than the Betoota pub. What about I ride over there and have a look.’ Les asked Harry.
‘You only want to have a bloody drink – you old codger.’
‘It wouldn’t be fair to ride all that way and not wet the whistle.’
‘How’d know they’ll be there?’
‘That’s where I’d go if I left the camp.’
‘If you catch up with them, tell em they’re sacked and bring my horses back.’
Les let out a Cooee, flicked his hat in the air and galloped toward the camp.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Mon Nov 06, 2017 10:14 pm

'The Drover' - Page 118:

Chapter 15

With Les and the five ringers gone Harry called on Greg and Claire to help him, even little Hector’s help was encouraging. This meant Harry worked longer hours and went without sleep. They weren’t far from the South Australian and Queensland Border. Birdsville was only fifty miles west.
Harry decided not to go near Birdsville but take the cattle across the Diamantina River and follow the border fence until they reached the South Australian border crossing gate. They would cross the cattle at the gate and head south to Clifton Hills. The toughest section of the trip was almost over.
That night the cattle were camped on the plain, earlier they’d drank in the Diamantina River and had their fill. Harry circled the mob softly singing to help them settle. He saw storm clouds on the horizon earlier and sensed something was about to happen. He’d seen these signs before and couldn’t put his finger on it. Instincts took over.
His nostrils filled with moisture of rain; it was sweet and refreshing. Without notice lighting flashed above his head and thunder screamed. The cattle stood and rushed off camp. Falcon and Harry galloped as one, Harry drawing his stock whip from his saddle riding hard to get to the front of the mob. Rain blasted his face; lightning flashed throwing electric ribbons through the night sky.
Falcon guided by his master drew level with the front leaders stampeding to escape the rain and thunder. Harry heard the sound of another horse, perhaps Les returned to help, was his wish. He strained to look at the rider and saw it was Claire riding Dusty. After another crack with his whip for some reason the cattle stopped. He looked across at his nine year old daughter; with love in his eyes, a lump in his throat he thought how lucky he was to have an offsider as good as her.
Lucky Harry stopped the cattle before they stampeded and were lost in the bush. Greg joined them with little Hector not far behind. Hector was drenched through to his skin. He was a tough little character who was born to be a drover.
‘How are they uncle?’ Greg asked as he and Hector stopped their horses near to Harry and Claire.
‘I was lucky Claire came to help. I thought they’d be gone for sure.’ Harry muttered.
‘You and Claire go back to camp for a break; we’ll keep an eye on them.’ Greg finished.
Harry and Claire returned to camp. Daylight broke across the horizon as they rode into camp. Rose had a fire going and as they unsaddled their horses Rose said, ‘that was a good one Harry; I thought we’d get washed away.’
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Nov 07, 2017 10:13 pm

'The Drover' - Page 119:

‘Yeah these storms out here come and go. Hopefully the river won’t flood because once we cross it – it’ll be an easy trip to Clifton Hills.’
‘I’ve cooked your breakfast, have it and go and have a sleep for awhile, I’m sure the kids can keep the cattle going.’
Harry washed his face and hands, ate his breakfast greedily, and retired to the back of the truck and soon slept.
When he awoke he felt much better and noticed the truck had been moved. Little did he realise he’d slept most of the day. Rose made camp high on a bank looking down on the river.
Since the rain, the river swelled and broken its banks; the crossing was now almost one hundred yards of sheet water to cross to the other side. Harry dressed and joined his wife in the camp.
‘The river’s come up after the rain Harry.’ She informed her husband.
‘Yeah, I see it.’ Taking his mug of black tea and slowly sipped the hot liquid. He felt refreshed.
‘We’ll stay this side of the river tonight and cross early tomorrow morning. It might drop if we don’t have any more rain. You take the truck and the dogs in their boxes across at the ford, it shouldn’t be too deep, but be careful and I’ll take the cattle further upstream.’ Rose agreed.
Harry returned to the night watch with the cattle and thought about how he was going to cross the flooded river. He’d find a narrow stretch which wasn’t deep and cross them at that point.
Crossing cattle in deep water was a hazard and difficult to do. He didn’t want to lose any at this stage because apart from the few problems he’d encountered on the trip, after all, it wasn’t a bad trip; apart from his men deserting him at a bad time, he felt pleased to have the children to help.
Early the following morning after he’d eaten his breakfast, the sun shining and the weather fine, he decided to take the cattle across the flooded Diamantina River.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Nov 08, 2017 9:34 pm

'The Drover' - Page 120:

Up stream was a ford where Rose could manoeuvre the truck across. Harry watched from the bank to see when she reached the other side.
With the children in the back of the truck, Rose slowly entered the water. The force caused the truck to slide sideways – Harry felt a lump form in his throat. Rose straightened the truck and drove directly into the flooded stream. The wheels covered with water, she edged the truck toward the centre of the river.
With the wheels slowly turning she felt the truck dip; and hoped the water wasn’t deep enough to flood the motor. To keep the motor running, she kept the truck moving. Lucky for Rose the river had a hard base of gravel and not sand. The flood washed away the sandy bottom to leave solid gravel.
Harry saw his dogs fully covered in water. He almost shouted for her to stop and let the dogs out of their boxes. They were below the back tray of the truck and locked in their boxes, a steel cage only large enough to house one dog and a trap door at the end of the cage to release it. Each dog had its nostril forced against the top of each box to breathe.
Rose continued driving through the water without fear to get to the other side. About half way across Harry saw the truck lunge forward and hoped it kept going. Rose was driving slower and this was the way he’d shown her how to cross a flooded river.
It wasn’t far to the other side and to safety. The dogs were completely covered in water and if Rose couldn’t move from the middle of the river in time – the dogs would drown.
Rose pressed her foot on the accelerator, the motor roared into action and the truck crossed to the other side of the river to safety. The children in the back of the truck roared with laughter when they arrived on the other side and waved to Harry, calling out they’d made it.
Harry looked to see if his dogs had drowned and saw them wagging their tails and shaking water from their coats.
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Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Thu Nov 09, 2017 9:52 pm

'The Drover' - Page 121:

Rose made it across and now it was his turn to get the cattle to the other side.
When crossing cattle through water, particularly flooded rivers, cattle fear water and moreso swimming. It’s better to give them their lead and hopefully the leaders will guide the others across the river.
Claire rode Dusty; Greg rode his horse and Harry rode Falcon.
‘After we let the leaders into the water, Greg you go on the left wing and Claire you take the right, I’ll stay at the rear. Take it steady and if any of the cattle get freight – look after yourself. We can replace the beast but it’s hard to replace either of you.’ Harry commanded in a sincere voice.
‘We’ll be right uncle – see you on the other side.’ Greg shouted before he rode to his position.
‘You take it steady Claire – let Dusty guide you. See you over the other side.’ He kindly said to his daughter. If anything ever happened to Claire he would never forgive himself. It was now up to her and Dusty.
‘I’ll be okay Dad, see you over there.’ Claire voiced before riding to her position. She was excited to help her father with crossing the cattle. It was a huge responsibility for a nine year old, especially a girl.
Riding at the rear of the mob Harry saw everything as it unfolded or about to happen. The leaders lead the mob to the edge of the water, Greg on the left wing, pushed the slower ones into the water whilst Claire did the same on her wing.
Everything was going fine. The leaders began to swim and others followed. Overnight the water slowed and Harry was thankful he’d put off crossing the cattle until the next day instead of late the afternoon before.
It was a shame Harry didn’t have a photograph to record the crossing. It would have made a delightful picture to show his grandchildren later in life when he and his nephew with his own daughter, one aged twelve and the other nine, crossed five hundred bullocks with ten horses across the flooded Diamantina River. He felt proud of these two youngsters who played their roles as if they were born to be drovers.
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