The Droving Days (1934)
I am travelling down to Wyndham,
With six hundred head of fats,
We string them on the stony ground,
And feed them on the flats.
When the evening stars shine out,
The night watch with a song,
Rides round the bullocks on the camp,
By some quiet billabong.
Old Gus is a ball of muscle,
When knocking up a feed;
Silent Bob is home and dried,
When steadying the lead.
Should the bullocks rush at night
There is one man right in front
Striking matches on the bullock's horns
'Tis a bloke called Jimmie Hunt.
Our journey is nearing to an end,
Here comes the agent with his whip,
To take the lead across the hill,
And put them on the ship.
When the mob is in the yard
By jove we will have some fun,
We will get Maloney with his car,
To take us for a run.
We will try and dig some drovers up,
Then to that box of tricks,
A tavern on the goldfields road,
What bushmen call "The Six."
We will sing again the droving songs
We sung along the track,
Hit up the hops a day or two,
Then off again Out Back.
Darwin.
W. MILLER.
From the Darwin Newspaper the Northern Standard 4 Sep 1934 p. 3.
See also in this collection A.L.Lloyd's version the On the Road With Liddy Top