Читать книгу Chips And Splinters - Edward S Sorenson - Страница 4

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He was an agile sailor man, Who longed to know the bush, And with his swag and billy can, He said he'd "make a push"; He left his ship in Moreton Bay, And faced the western sun— He asked the way ten times a day, And steered for Bandy's Run. Said Bandy, "You can start, my son, If you can ride a horse." 'Twas stockmen for the cattle run Were wanted there, of course. Now Jack had strode the crossbars oft On many a rolling sea, So reckoned he'd be safe aloft On any moke, you see. They caught him one, and saddled it, And led it from the yard; It sidled round, and champed its bit, And at the sailor sparr'd: He towed her round, and with a grin He eyed her fore and aft; Then thrust his foot the gangway in, And swung aboard the craft. The whites and blacks climbed on the rails, The boss stood smiling by, As Jack exclaimed. "Away she sails!" And Brumby 'gan to fly. She bounded first against the gate, And Jack cried out, "Astarn!" Then struck a whirlpool—'t any rate, That was the sailor's yarn. For Brumby spun him round and round, She reared and kicked and struck, And with alternate bump and bound, In earnest 'gan to buck. A tree loomed onhe starboard bow, And—"Port yer helm!" cried he; She fouled a bush; he roared, "You scow, Keep to the open sea!" One moment he was in the seat, The next was lying down; Anon some acrobatic feat Would shame a circus clown. But still he clung, as monkeys cling, To rudder-line and flap, Although at every prop and spring They thought his neck would snap. From tail to ears he rode her hard, From ears to tail again, A mile beyond the cattle yard, And back across the plain; Now high upon the pommel bumped, Now hanging at the side, Anon behind the saddle dumped, With arms and legs flung wide. The watchers tumbled off the rail, The boss lay down and roared, While Jack held tight by rein and tail, And rocked about "on board"; They stared to see him stick aloft, Though Bruucked fierce and free; But he had strode the crossbars oft, On many a bounding sea. The saddle from the rounded back Went spinning in mid-air, Whilst two big boots were flung off Jack, And four shoes off the mare; The bridle broke and left her free, He grasped her round the neck; "We're 'mong the breakers now," cried he, "There's bound to be a wreck!" She struck and squealed, and snorted loud, She reared, and pawed the air; It was the greatest sight the crowd Had ever witnessed there; For Jack with legs and arms clung tight, The Brumby's neck around, And yelled, "A pilot—quick as light, Or, dash me, I'm aground!" They only laughed the louder when The mare began to back— Until she struck the fence, and then Sat down to snort at Jack. He gasped, "I'm safe in port at last, I'll quit yer bounding mane"; Dropped off and sang, "All danger's past, And Jack's come home again!" Now, Jack has been on Bandy's Run, A stockman, many years, Yet mem'ries of that morning's fun To many still bring tears. They cannot understand it yet. A fall he did not dree— But Jack had strode the yardarms wet On many a plunging sea.