Re: Pat Ritter. Books
Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2017 10:42 pm
'The Drover' - Page 94:
Once the cattle left the property Harry Williams was in charge; his responsibility, to deliver the cattle to Clifton Hills in good condition and not lose any along the way.
Both men sat on the top rail of the cattle yards, their eyes flicking from one beast to another. Harry slowly drew on his tailor made cigarette, a curl of smoke past his eyes, his face skewed to show wrinkles and age, his mind completely focused on the task ahead.
‘They look a good mob?’ He repeated as he looked across to Dennis to get a response.
‘They’re the best we’ve got. I’ve put a few more in for killers. There should be enough to get you thorough. The rain hasn’t come this year and if we don’t move them off now they won’t be good for anything. You know what the country’s like out here when there’s no rain.’ Dennis voiced in his slow western drawl.
‘We might get winter rain and hopefully the rivers are flowing when we’re on the move.’ Both men couldn’t talk any more because once they mentioned the weather and the stock – that was it, their conversation limited.
In the outback it was always taken as part of life, a drover was a few runs below on the social status ladder to a grazier.
Harry Williams always felt he did a good job at what he did but when it came to mixing with the cockies; it wasn’t the same as mixing with drovers and ringers. He knew how to talk with other drovers and ringers and felt comfortable in their company but when it came to conversing with cockies he felt intimidated in what to say. His life was the wide open spaces with stock routes his boundaries. He didn’t need to be a cockie or grazier to prove what to do. His life was carefree with open plains and no boundary fences.
When Harry was asked to take the cattle, his imagination went wild; he had never before taken 500 bullocks from Queensland to South Australia. His decision to follow the stock routes, traverse many properties along the way, his knowledge of the area depended wholly on word-of-mouth from other drovers or property owners when he passed through.
TO PURCHASE THIS BOOK CLICK HERE: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/95766
Once the cattle left the property Harry Williams was in charge; his responsibility, to deliver the cattle to Clifton Hills in good condition and not lose any along the way.
Both men sat on the top rail of the cattle yards, their eyes flicking from one beast to another. Harry slowly drew on his tailor made cigarette, a curl of smoke past his eyes, his face skewed to show wrinkles and age, his mind completely focused on the task ahead.
‘They look a good mob?’ He repeated as he looked across to Dennis to get a response.
‘They’re the best we’ve got. I’ve put a few more in for killers. There should be enough to get you thorough. The rain hasn’t come this year and if we don’t move them off now they won’t be good for anything. You know what the country’s like out here when there’s no rain.’ Dennis voiced in his slow western drawl.
‘We might get winter rain and hopefully the rivers are flowing when we’re on the move.’ Both men couldn’t talk any more because once they mentioned the weather and the stock – that was it, their conversation limited.
In the outback it was always taken as part of life, a drover was a few runs below on the social status ladder to a grazier.
Harry Williams always felt he did a good job at what he did but when it came to mixing with the cockies; it wasn’t the same as mixing with drovers and ringers. He knew how to talk with other drovers and ringers and felt comfortable in their company but when it came to conversing with cockies he felt intimidated in what to say. His life was the wide open spaces with stock routes his boundaries. He didn’t need to be a cockie or grazier to prove what to do. His life was carefree with open plains and no boundary fences.
When Harry was asked to take the cattle, his imagination went wild; he had never before taken 500 bullocks from Queensland to South Australia. His decision to follow the stock routes, traverse many properties along the way, his knowledge of the area depended wholly on word-of-mouth from other drovers or property owners when he passed through.
TO PURCHASE THIS BOOK CLICK HERE: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/95766