JonDLundyn Parker book 2 #2
December 23rd 2006 18:44
Mountain bred cattle
Chapter 2
Joe Falk walked his quarter horse between the tall Blue Gums with his long leather platted stock whip curled and resting on his shoulder. His wide brim hat shaded his deep blue eyes that darted over the hilly terrain keeping a close watch on the fifty head of cattle he had mustered up with his two dogs during the day. His whistles, sharp and long sent the dogs off “heeling” the cattle and keeping them in a rough manageable mob. He herded the cattle into an old iron fenced pen and leaning over from his saddle slipped the guard over the closed gate. The reek of the mustered herd grew as they milled around the yard, urinating and bogging then trampling all underfoot. Joe never really noticed the smell it was all part of his lifestyle to him. The dry eucalypt and grass smells of the high New England ranges that had become a home for him in his retirement were all part of the healing process of his new life. In his small square corrugated iron built cabin a simple stove brewed water for the billy and in his larder he had biscuits, jams and tinned meats. There was a square wooden table a couple of rough straight backed timber chairs and two overstuffed armchairs separated by a coffee table that carried a kerosene lantern. In one corner stood a single bed with a large warm doona.
Mustered ready for sale
Joe could look back on a life of community service and be proud of his personal achievements. His family was grown up; he was now widowed and wanted nothing more than a very peaceful life. The property he had bought, up in the high country of the New England district was one of the few that had been owned by a family that had held out against development. But in the end the children had gone off to do their own thing and the owner had no option but to sell. It was dream for Joe to be able to take over such a valuable property. It was several thousand hectares of mountain country; some cleared but mostly well timbered and ideal for his style of farming. Not too many head of cattle, he didn’t want to lose them in the bush, just enough to make a small living. In the streams he could catch wild brook trout and the couple of dams on the property were stocked with small crayfish that added a change to his simple diet.
The alarm on his mobile phone interrupted his peace. He glanced at the face of the phone and saw it was a neighbour. His closest neighbour in fact that lived more than five miles away.
“Joe, you’re not going to like this!” It sounded like Peters; his neighbour was being over excited about something. “ There is a series of fires heading toward your boundary. I can see them from the top of my mill pump.”
“That is odd” Said Joe, “its not fire time, the bush round here is not so dry.”
Peters replied that he saw two of the fires start. Just a flash of light a puff of smoke then fire. “They’re not big yet and if you can get the two closest to you I can probably get either one or two closest to me. It seems to be heading toward the top of the ranges.”
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