The Australian Brumby - Poems 8 & 9 __________________

The dust was kicking high from the yarding of the colt
As Lindsay strode around with strong lean frame
The lead line came so taut with each and every jolt
But this horse was one that Lindsay meant to tame

Twas weeks of work with sweat and curse and often quite a bruise
As this fine colt from loins of high, decided now to choose
The gentle touch from this lean man was soon to play its part
This mountain lad seemed not so bad, he'd shown he's stout of heart

With pride and joy the two rode hard across the snowy plains
They rode amongst the brumby pods with no demands or claims
The colt had grown to stallion hood the lad become a man
And galloped o'er the tussock tops, for now they'd joined the clan

They pulled up hard at Coolamine, the chimney belching smoke
The verandah stood the grey beard man, rising lump a cause to choke
He looked the horse and man aloft, whispering with a sigh
This stallion that I caught in past, both children now set to fly

Old Jock and Lindsay sat a while, before the flickering fire
He passed on grand Namidji's plan should consequence get dire
The old man not too far off now, his life now but a cover
A plan from Aboriginal man, a plan to his white brother

He threw his leg across the saddle, his Grandfather's hand he shook
With wind and rain now well set in, they knew which route they took
The lesson strong in mind was set, old Jock was sure he felt
Twasn't long before they rode below that distant green bush belt

The newspapers screamed the story hard, of what dangers lay ahead
He tossed and turned the nights on through, the family must be fed
But we're so far, it's not our fight, the farm is where I'll be
His thoughts would just not let it go, for man must fight to be free

The sky was blue the air so clear, the saddle slipped from girth
Lindsay slapped the rump so hard, he raced out across the earth
The stallion sniffed the brumby mares, he liked their hardy strain
This horse was free in this great land, this mountain tundra plain

The whistle came, a short sharp shrill, he knew it was for he
With one last nuzzle of his mate, the mare he left to be
One ear did twitch, the call a sound, its time that he must go
He cantered cross the snowy plain, to Lindsay in the snow

As Lindsay strapped the stallion with the saddle and his pack
He looked across his snowy plains, not sure if they'd be back
The breeze had ruffled ostrich plumes that adorned his new slouch hat
For they'd soon be bound for other lands with bandolier and strap

With training done they shipped away to lands far o'er the world
A foreign state for horse and mate, this kept their stomachs twirled
Finally the ship had docked, the lads now seemed like brothers
This work they'd have to learn in heat, a heat that mostly smothers

The weeks went by with tricks learnt new, and hardships of the plan
These mighty band of warriors became warships of the sand
The General came to sign them off with but a stroke of pen
From this dry camp of brave young lads, rode out, the Light Horsemen

The Turks had heard of these strange men, so tough and hard to fight
There's even some from Gallipoli, where they'd struggled to match such might
The Germans thought their mates were good, they'll stave off these men
The guns from high will decimate, the charge the Turks will stem

The night was cold, yet crisp and clear, those thousands rode on through
The Sinai hills reverberate to the Light Horse trotting true
From Asluj to the battle front, no smoking was allowed
Lindsay on his stallion tall, with mates all battle proud

The 31st of October was the date when all was still
The fight for town Beersheba was being left to Light Horse will
Til British guns did open up, the plan was now in hand
They needed all that water that was buried beneath that sand

Lindsay and his stallion with his mates all side by side
Rode past Bedouin desert camps, chests pounding with the stride
The Kiwis hit the cliff so fast, they had to take the Tel
With Aussies coming right behind, replacements from Chauvel

The battle raged for an hour or more, with wounded by the score
The smell was bad, and fear was rife, and the noise was a mighty roar
Horse and man both gave their all to take this sandy spot
But Lindsay's mates could not be stopped, for they were the Light Horse lot

The battle was won and the men milled around, their wounds being a plenty severe
When overhead heard, a sleek silver bird, the men could just watch and stare
The 9th and the 10th was where it went, taking them out in full stride
The bombs blasted down knocking Light Horse to ground, these men for all whom we have pride

The war came to end at such a huge cost, a cost to so many was their all
It was time for them now to report back to home, a time for the last recall
They packed all their gear with their weapons now sheathed and saddled their horses to go
For nothing in life could make them feel worse than the memories they now do know

But then came an order not one to expect, one they couldn't believe
Well down men! but I apprehend, the horses you have to leave
Well the men stood aghast of the command coming last, this surely cannot be so
For these horses were mates who'd carried their fates to Beersheba, when all was aglow

The anger of men who had to shoot their best friend, was not that you wished to see
The men so more sad than the lost friends that they'd had, for the horses they wanted to flee
These horses that fought in the desert for King's Court, were now to be put in the ground
In silence they took order, for war has no quarter, and knew they must do without sound

Lindsay and stallion rode out in the sand with sight of but nary a tree
They cantered the dunes in a circular ride to give them some time to be free
Then sliding from aloft his magnificent friend from scabbard his rifle he drew
With cloth covered eyes to his trusting stallion's surprise, his best friend his life did he slew

No one can say of the feelings that day of the men of the desert they knew
For the minds of those men would remember the friend of what they and their horse had been through
Twas dark of all hearts that this dastardly part, a pain that could never be stemmed
So this is the story of war, no not it's glory, but the killing of the Light Horsemen's friend

A year since has past his return to the bush with Lindsay aloft a new stead
The tussocks swish by under a snow threatening sky as he lets his new horse have it's lead
He's high on the plains, with these unfamiliar reigns, with thoughts only for a friend in his mind
For his Grand fathers gone with the stallion up high to be with the like of their kind

At the Bidgee headwaters where the spring bubbles forth, Lindsay dismounts from the back
He gathers big rocks into a conical pile and mixes cement to the cracks
With tears on his cheeks not a word does he speak of a friend that he caused to pass
A sign scribed in brass is attached at the last, here lies the memory of the Light Horse class.

A sigh and a whisper a cold even crisper, caresses the back of his neck
The mist has descended, all around it has blended, with tussocks, the bush line a speck
He turned around slow for he was alone in the snow, he knew that it was not with fear
There his stallion's ghost stood with a mist swirling hood and the man on his back held a spear

The sun was barely shining across the misty valley dawn
And the gums had yet to glisten from the dew
But the stallion knew the warning on this frosty mountain morning
It was something through his nostrils came the clue

He stamped the ground like thunder for his herd to gather near
A warning, they all knew was meant to be
There was twenty plus their young, that were grazing without fear
But this warning wasn't one of not to heed

He was sixteen hands and twenty years and knew the signs from old
His senses screaming loudly in his mind
The danger couldn't be seen, but twas real for he and fold
This danger that had often beset his kind

Ahead his herd he galloped, across that snow covered tussock plain
Before the men could burst forth from the bush
To high land on way yonder headed the galloping equine train
Sure footed and determined was their push

The charge was now so desperate as the trap was sprung to plan
And the stallion saw his chances getting slim
With the sweat and spittle spraying as the men began to fan
The Brumbies flight for freedom was looking grim

At the head waters of the Bidgee his herd he brought to halt
The men were on both sides and in behind
Their coats were flying wildly with their mounts a spewing foam
This race he knew was all but out of time

He wheeled to valley floor in one last mighty stand
But these men had all been down this road before
With the spirit of flight now broken and resistance only token
The ropes of his pursuers held them in store

As he was forced to lead his herd back, across his mountain plain
He knew that life was never to be as was
The ropes around his neck were forced to add an extra strain
For the glistening on the gums had made him pause.