The Lure of The Bush (1931)
(By a Shoalhaven Bard)
Good luck to the man Bill Liddy,When he was a boy, this kiddy,
He left his home at a place they called Kerang.
He was seeking his probation
On a far out west sheep station;
Where the toughest of the tough men they sprang. The voice was clear and mellow,
Of this lion-hearted fellow ;
Singing songs along the track, and mocking the curlew.
No city did allure him,
No doctors there to cure him
If he fell down, weak from plague or deadly 'flu. He passed beside the rattle
From the hoofs of Queensland cattle ;
As he tramped the roads-no billy, can or swag.
Everlasting in a hurry,
As he beat it, down the Murray,
Though towards night his feet they often seemed to drag. Then, of money he had little,
And his boots were dry and brittle-
From the muddy roads, thro which he had to splash.
And he camped beside the bushes,
Far away from city pushes,
By the burning logs from which the flames would flash. Then he tramped it up the Darling,
Where the dingoes wild were snarling,
And their howls rang out upon those nights so drear.
Right on to old Pooncarrie,
Where the swaggies they would tarry
To have a rest, and hum a mug of beer. Here the publican so happy,
Said: Hello, my little chappy !
We have heard of you, from coachmen days ago;
Are you going to Menindie,
Thro this weather wet and windy?
Better stay awhile, and give yourself a blow. But he thought of nothing only
On that road so long and lonely,
But the cattle, and the bleating of the sheep.
So he whistled on quite gayly.
Camping nights, and walking daily
To the station, where no weeping willows weep. Till of miles he walked five hundred,
Where lightning skies they thundered,
Then he started work at mustering the flocks.
There, amongst the station Bosses
He learned to ride the horses;
Though at times he fell, and got some nasty knocks. But he battled on undaunted,
Though the station hands they taunted
Him, at everytime he got a bloomin' spill.
But his cheerful disposition
Made him safe in acquisition.
And they christened him the "Baby Buckjump Bill." Yes, he learned to ride rough horses-
Not upon the city courses,
But through hills and plains with blue
bush overgrown;
Where the wallabies and rabbits
Pursue their native habits,
Which to city folk are sometimes never known. And the kangaroos he hunted,
Though his horse it bucked and grunted,
As his spurs they touched against the horse's side ;
And he galloped through the mulga-
Right along the vale of Tulga,
And over fences, along the Great Divide. Out there they held their races,
Where they tried the horses' paces.
And Liddy won with length he had to spare ;
Though another was the fancy,
The boy he won on Nancy ;
All through the race she never turned a hair. At night they paid the prizes,
And played at shilling rises,
And doubled up as sportsmen often do;
And drink they had, and plenty-
From a pub they call the "Henty,"
Far out along the river called Paroo. Now, you men down in the city
Come out west; don't look for pity,
If you're starved within a dirty city street.
Just stop your bloomin' mopin'
And come out into the open,
"Where life is real, and men are men, you meet. Where no doctor's ever needed.
Where no lawyer's case is pleaded,
Where everybody's out to treat you fair.
No burglars, gunmen, preying
At night where yon are laying:
No worried nights, thro thieves or slashers, there. Your life is but a gamble,
So come where horses amble
And gallop over plains of tinted blue ;
Out where we shoot the dingo,
And learn the Abo. lingo-
In the home of the big red kangaroo.
You'll work at boundary riding. Where the Bilbies, they are hiding
In their burrows far beneath the sand.
Where the birds they sing and whistle,
And the porcupine they bristle.
And young Liddy, he will greet you hand in hand. Notes From the NSW Newspaper The Nowra Leader 24 Jul 1931 p. 3.