A Drovers life

A unique living history in Australia

A Drovers life is unique to a living history across the long paddock (traveling stock routes) dotted across Australia.

 

Mobs of cattle moved across the ‘long paddock’ through heat, dust, and flies. Drovers on the track for months on end, isolated from their families. Across the plains of the outback

Joe the Drover had ridden over ridges and rolling plains, it had been months since he had been home. He’s travelled vast regions to come home. Images of his wife Liza standing on the veranda waiting for him. Many months vanish while he is on the stock route.

The station homestead lies hazy in the distance against the lower skies as the drover jogs through the noon day sun, chains and camp-ware jingle a tune, as he catches sight of silhouetted homestead and his wife.  Home for a while to see his family, then he is on the move again.

A Drover loyal to his family, but the open road beckons, through all kinds of weather. Stormy inky black clouds fill the sky, lightening sharpens the sky. Across a Drovers track he pushes onward, his horses’ strength carries him to the river before it rises. Thunder claps over the Drovers and goes rumbling down the plain replenishing thirsty plains. Flood waters soon fill every creek and gully, rivers run again.

Joe and his dog (Jack) often crossed rivers together even when the rivers were full. Never stopping for thunder growls, or lightening, swimming the streams as the flood runs stronger than ever before.

He’s been there when the cattle have circled for the night, campfires have been lit. He’s sat around them talking; sometimes quietly sometimes you will hear a mouth organ play quietly. Men often deep in thought, sharing damper and billied tea listen quietly when you are camped across the ‘long paddock’ and you may hear their stories echo in the night, of how life used to be.

Now droving’s had its day, images of men like Joe have disappeared. Stock trains are replacing, these hard wiry men like Joe. Days of tea and damper will never come again.

I’m glad I’ve travelled the travelling stock route and camped by night on the stock route. Envisaged images of how it was then, when Droving cattle were a business.

These all but forgotten men and women of the Australian Outback should be remembered.

 

 

 

Author's Note

Hope you can feel the passion of these pioneers