The Drover
Away out west where the soil is red and the fences far between
There has been a drought for over a year and the cattle are poor and lean
The drover is slouched in his saddle, as he moves the herd along
For he knows if he were to hurry, it surely would be wrong
He must head for greener pastures 'ere the cattle fall and die
And the look on his face is worried as he searches the cloudless sky
For the sun shines down so fiercely with a burning blistering heat
That you only find in the outback where the plains and desert meet
His thoughts went back to the years gone by, and of trips he had made before
The one that stood out stark and clear was in the drought of thirty four
When the ground was bare, the water scarce, and the sand began to creep
Till they covered the land for a hundred miles and were over ankle deep
It was there he learned in this big vast land if you wish to stay alive
You must have the strength of a dozen men and the willpower to survive
The strong would live; the weak must die for the law of the land was so
And the white bones bleached in the desert sands were the proof that it could be so
So he gazed ahead with his grey green eyes and knew what he must do
He moved the herd at a steady pace till he reached the river Barcoo
There he sat and watched ‘till they’d had their fill and grazed on the lush green grass
Then felt the joy of a job well done and a haven reached at last
Fred Clausen (1934)