THE MIGHTY QUEENSLAND BLUE
- Gunnedah Hero -
G'day folks,
Welcome to the fourth and final bush poem that is included in my award-winning novel, Gunnedah Hero'. This poem tells the tale of one of Australia's toughest dogs - the Queensland Heeler. There are blue ones and red ones, but both are amazing with cattle. They are brilliant work dogs. I've had several of them, and their ability and loyalty is incredible. In the poem below, you will read two names: Banjo and The Bulletin. Banjo was a nickname for one of Australia's finest poets and authors - Andrew Barton Paterson. Want to know how he got the nickname Banjo? Well, you will find out by reading Gunnedah Hero ... Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.
The Bulletin was a major Australian newspaper last century, edited by another great poet, activist and writer, J F Archibald. This newspaper was known as 'The Bush Bible', and it travelled far and wide. Why, because many articles were poems and short stories written by shearers, farmers and ordinary working-class people. The newspaper contained a mass of information and entertainment, hence each edition was passed on 'down the track' from one itinerant worker to another.
THE MIGHTY
QUEENSLAND BLUE
I’ve been a drover for a bit; I’m known quite far
and wide,
seen lots of steers, some sheep and dogs; I take
‘em in me stride.
But all them days have finished now; they’re surely
done and past,
hot years of sun and endless miles and days that
never last.
Now I’m glancing back in time ‘cause I have lots of
time to look,
at all the years spent drovin’; and so many years
it took.
Indeed I’ve seen some funny things but also seen
some sad,
met heaps of cheery shearin’ coves, and very few
were bad.
Old memories come a floodin’ back as I sit here
alone,
I’ve never found meself a wife, but who am I to
moan?
This life has bin so good to me, by God I’ve seen
so much,
the droughts, and floods and fires were the
saddest, roughest touch.
Me favourite was the cattle – as they offered such
a dare,
the sheep were fine yet lazy but they never quite
compare.
Musterin’ the bush steers was a job that I adored,
but movin’ sheep was boring and was something I
abhorred.
A million yarns and tales to tell, a mind that’s fadin’
fast,
my fondest memories are the ones that always seem
to last.
They were the ones of cattle dogs – I surely had a
few,
some were kelpies, some were blues, and some were
mongrels, too.
Of course, I had me favourites - as we drovers
always do,
the best of all was mean and thick – a clever
Queensland Blue.
I got him as a lively pup from near the ‘Murray
Down’,
a top dog, yes indeed he was, he never made me
frown.
Straight away I called him ‘Biff’ because he loved
a brawl
and even as a fluffy pup he took on one and all.
Right from the very start I knew I had a special mate,
that pup and me we got on fine, but other dogs he’d
hate.
Already I’d had two dogs but my Biff took up the
lead,
me collie and me kelpie had no choice left but to
heed.
Lookin’ back it was a laugh to see that young dog
fight,
to take on bigger, tougher dogs was really his
delight.
There was a time I do recall somewhere near
Dandaloo,
when a smart young cove, a shearer, who also had a
blue
bet me all his shearin’ pay his dog could outdo
mine.
I pondered it, I looked at Biff, he winked and
barked, ‘It’s fine!’
So after shearin’ time that day we found an empty
pen,
and stood against a wiry fence with all the other
men
and when the Ringer counted three I unleashed my
top blue,
and quickly those two met as one, boy oh boy, they
flew.
The whole damn crew sat starin’ as the dust rose in
the air,
both our
dogs were snarling, they were such an angry pair.
By God they took it serious, it was indeed a fight,
the winner he would stand alone, the loser would
take flight.
Some shearers wagered money and yet some were not
so keen,
as both them angry heelers set to fight a duel so
mean.
I backed me dog with all I had which ‘twas a decent
sum,
I knew me Biff could beat his dog and leave the
shearer glum.
The other dog was bigger but not quite as smart as
mine,
my Biff he gave a whoppin’ bite that made the
canine whine.
Then in he went straight for the throat; it was an
awful scene,
the big blue dog, he took a dive; no longer was he
mean.
His owner looked quite horrified; his dog was dead
indeed,
as sadly in the dust he kneeled while Biff paid him
no heed.
That shearer bloke from Dandaloo had learned a
lesson too,
like others did that awesome day when Biff beat his
big blue.
The crowd thought my dog was real mean; so angry
and so tough,
but then they saw a side of Biff that surely wasn’t
gruff.
There was a kindly part of him that was as soft as
snow,
a touch of friendly kindness that touched that crew,
ya know.
That shearer sadly sat alone a-thinkin’ of his
plight,
when Biff got up and strolled to him later on that night.
Me dog just sat beside him and he gave a mournful
glance,
then raised
a paw and rested it upon the shearer’s pants.
The whole damn crew stopped chattin’ and just stared
at him in awe,
wonderin’ if he was the dog – the one that day they
saw.
A dog that fought a battle against a bigger, meaner
foe,
and sure enough he was the same, as Biff expressed
his woe.
The shearer sadly looked my way then back at Biff,
me blue,
he offered him the strangest look then gave a pat
or two.
Everybody was amazed, ‘cause it was the oddest day,
but geez, I’d seen it all before; his softer side I’d
say.
I’d many dogs before this one, but none had been so
true
as Biff that tough old heeler; the almighty
Queensland Blue.
We worked together as a team, ten years of joyful
bliss,
but now he is the only one I really, dearly miss.
By God, he had a gentle heart, a spirit soft but tough,
so many times he rescued me when things got really
rough.
One day he saved me from a snake; so close was I to
strife,
this was the last I saw of him; the day he lost his
life.
Then some months later came a note; it was from far
outback,
was such a movin’ letter from a shearer down the
track.
His words were quite prophetic and they surely made
me grin,
thinking of the very day when my blue had a win.
‘Twas from the very shearer who had lost his dog
that day,
a man who I could not forget; we all recall that
fray,
and in his note he offered praise so seldom
shearers do,
in bold black print he called old Biff: ‘The Mighty
Queensland Blue’
And pinned onto his letter was an extra printed
page,
a story of a long gone fight which surely bore some
age.
‘Twas written by our Banjo and was writ’ with
wondrous style,
a page from out ‘The Bulletin’ had come a lengthy
mile.
I sat and read his every word; a wondrous job he’d
done,
he’d penned a whole damn story ‘bout the day old
Biff had won.
And little did I know our Banjo sat and watched
that day,
when my Biff flogged the bigger blue; it was a
sight, I say.
Clancy's comment: There ya go. Enjoy it? Great imagination , eh? Now, you might like to click on 'Gunnedah Hero Reviews' above and see what folks think about this novel. You might also like to head to my book shop to the top right of this page and buy a paperback or e-Book. When you do, you will see where these poems fit into the story. As the little cutie says above, 'Don't be shy'. Oh, if you do buy a paperback version, I will be more than happy to write some charming message inside it.
I'm ...
Another great Aussie dog
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