Back on the drive (The Cattle Drive continues…)

This is the third instalment in Rod’s series, The Cattle Drive. You can catch up on part one here and part two here. 

Refreshed after morning smoko we get the mob moving again. The sound of stockwhips, dogs and human voices motivates the cattle to move out along the road. We will be following the Omeo highway for the next 20 kilometres so will be contending with traffic from both directions. Although vehicle numbers on this section of road are usually low there will be a few that require an escort through the mob.

Along the road the cattle “string out” This means that some of them walk faster than others and if not held back will leave the tail end of the mob behind. For this reason it is necessary to have a couple of riders at the front to slow the pace down.  Those at the tail have the job of keeping the stragglers going and to watch for any that get too far off the road.  We don’t expect any difficulty for the rest of the day except for the occasional car passing through and the usual amount of riding off the road to retrieve a cow who decides she has had enough and wants to go home. In most instances the dogs will do the work.

As midday approaches we are well on the way and the mob is moving at a steady pace. Our support vehicles have caught up and roll along in convoy behind us. The day has warmed up considerably and as the season has been dry there is little in the way of water in gullies and road side puddles. Tired and thirsty cattle are sometimes reluctant to keep moving. Maybe the next few hours will prove to be a bit of a battle.

By mid- afternoon we are still an hour away from the camp site and it’s hard work as we continually have to force the mob along the road. Our efforts regularly thwarted by an unusual amount of passing traffic. But it is something we have done many times before and experience has taught us that it is not always easy. There is the potential for things to go wrong and danger could be just around the next corner. It is a matter of getting on with the job and getting it done.

For much of the way the road follows the Mitta River valley. It was cut into the mountain sides about 100 years ago when hand tools, bullock wagons and human sweat were the tools of excavation. The modern day road follows the original track. Riding this route on horseback brings awareness of the rugged harshness of the landscape and it is not hard to imagine the hardship faced by those early road workers. On one section known as the Blue Cutting the entire mob must walk on the road, for on one side an almost sheer cliff rises and on the other the land drops away to the river almost 200 metres below. It is an awesome site as 300 head of cattle slowly make their way. At the rear of the mob we get the occasional glimpse of the lead riders as the road winds in and out of the gullies and gorges then disappears around the next ridge.  Far below the river shimmers in the afternoon sunlight.

The day is drawing to a close when we reach our campsite. Here, we turn the mob into the overnight paddock. With the cattle settled we are eager to set up camp and relax around the campfire. But first there are chores to be done. A make-shift holding yard for the horses is erected near the river. Lucerne hay, chaff and oats carried from the homestead by one of the support vehicles will sustain them. The dogs will dine on dry food and the scraps from our camp oven meal of beef and veggies. The horses are unsaddled and dried sweat is brushed from their coats. Then, snug in their horse rugs are released into the holding yard. It is time for them, the dogs and the riders to take a well- deserved rest.

After a long, hard day in the saddle there is something special about sitting round a campfire with good mates, yarning and having a few beers. The topics of conversation are vast and varied and as the beer mellows our mood the old mate is inevitably reminded of his unexpected swim back at the Cobungra River crossing. In the way of good mateship we get as much mileage out of his mishap as possible.

As I gaze up at the starry sky from the comfort and warmth of my swag; I listen to the sounds of the night. A gentle breeze disturbs the branches overhead. It loosens leaves which float down to catch the light from our campfire. In the distance a wild dog voices a mournful howl that goes unheard by our sleeping cattle dogs. Occasionally a thumping sound punctuates the silence as a wombat goes about his nocturnal business. With thoughts of tomorrow on my mind, I soon drift off to sleep.

In the morning the horses are waiting in the yard as the mob begins to stir. Our dogs bark thanks as we release them from overnight chains. I throw a few sticks of wood on the embers of the campfire and soon a billy is steaming an invitation to breakfast. In the cold water of the mountain stream we wash lingering sleepiness from our stubbled faces. Hats and oilskin coats lie on swags still warm from tired bodies. An unusual mood prevails. Could this be the last time we saddle the horses to take the cattle to the high plains?

It will take another day to get the mob onto the high plains. The cattle will remain there for the remainder of the summer months. In autumn we will return for the muster before the first snow blankets the Alps.

Have you been apart of a cattle drive? Or perhaps you worked out west? Share your stories with us in the comments below…