Old Snowy Camp ... Poem by Prue King
Photos by Sherrin Matthews
Away, away, with trucks and floats
We’re off to the brumby ground
Packed our boots and packed our coats
For Old Snowy Camp we’re bound
We set up home on a grassy rise
Our views stretched from valley to hills
You made your own yard whatever its size
Working horses deserved all the frills
Each day started ‘breakfast is ready’
Rob and Sandie came up with the meals
Mango chicken, a roast dark with gravy
Mmm, lamb shanks – our devotion was sealed!
We followed brumby tracks over Tantangara plains
Found frost spots, old cattlemen’s huts
Descended into cool Blue Water Hole claims
Explored Oldfields and the old aquaduct
One chap says ‘It’s 14ks’
When the map clearly states it’s eleven
Another assures us it’s just half a day
And you know it’s double that, that he’s teasing
We relished the bunch of boys from the bush
Who led us to a small waterfall
They came round for dinner, sheepish, with a push
But in the saddle they rode good and tall
Four took a lay day to the thermal pools
They weren’t as hot as you’d think
Sandie was determined to climb the hill
We were all glad to be back for a drink!
Scores of brumbies surveyed us
When we rode to the old homestead
The photos, the implements, covered in dust
Crusty Stewie’s stories scuttling through his head
Before we left we donned our coats
On Friday, the last ride of the week
Rain poured incessant, we needed a boat
The head of the Murrumbidgee a rising creek
Poor Trev skittled while hobbling his horse
He luckily avoided a trip to the quack
Saddling very early he lasted the course
‘I won’t get into trouble at the back!’
Worldly Pete adored the stars at night
“Did you get wet, Pete?’ was a frequent quote
His plain black horse was quite a height
And of Jasper Pete dreamed in the float
‘That was elegant’ shouted Sherrin
‘You’re such a good girl, aren’t you Gem’
Her persistence at the bogs, it was daring
And her canter, it was light, and it showed ‘em
Andrew professed his love for his horse
Democracy isn’t an accurate term
Skye’s dictatorship is a political force
As the days progressed was he firm?
‘Good girl, Splash, you did it’
Praised Lou, ‘now let me take pics’
Of green lizards, a black snake hit
Of wallabies, brumbies and creeks
Ray finished his book, zoomed off on the bike
And his housekeeping skills were so fine
He aired the beds, always tightened my girth
He’s a catch, this man of mine
And me? You know how I’m quiet
Reserved and shy, you’ll agree
But if you want an answer I’ll supply it
Now please, can we stop, for a pee?
So over the camp you can imagine
Imagine how we’ve learned such a lot
Such as ‘You always empty your pockets
Before you use the long drop!!!’
