Vonda Stanley's collection of early Australian bush poems


The Big White Bullock   


Under a guidin’ providence

Is Mickety Mulga Jim,

For nothink yet of serious ‘arm

‘As ever come to him.


A big white Bullick charged him once,

But never gored ‘is pelt

Because the animal’  s two ‘orns

Run just inside ‘is belt.

The Bullick kicked and tossed and roared,

But couldn’t shake him loose;

Jim tried to slip the buckle free,

But found it was no use.

For days and days, so Mulga says,

He was suspended so,

And then became unconscious

Wid swinging to and fro.

In this suspensive attitude

He hung, he thinks, a week,

Until the bullick went to drink

And soused him in the creek.

The water brought his senses back,

And made him kick and cough,

Till wid his frantic strugglin’s

The bullick’s ‘orns broke orf,


If to convince his hearers

This anecdote should fail,

He shows ‘em both the ‘orns and belt

To certify his tale.

T Ranken

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