Below is the poem entitled G Grandfather Joe White which was written by poet
JOHNSON. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Back in 1880 you will find, Joe White he was about.
The Brumby runner master mind. Of this I'll leave no doubt.
He took from Mugan station, 600 Brumbies yes my friend.
Had the best riders of the nation, on which he could depend.
From Mungindi to Sydney town, drove Brumbies didn't fail.
They'd stop em block em right around, horse broke em for the sale.
The horse who broke and left the mob, got grabbed by the tail and threw.
A sideline or a hobble's job, made of green hide it'd do.
Wet green hide sideline when applied, front to back the legs were held.
He couldn't canter if he tried, to stay he was compelled.
Joe saw the difference in every track,to read from them he knew.
He was as good as any black, he'd track ants across the dew.
Two Dancy boys they wandered lost, were gone a day or two.
At black tracker's, oh these kid's did scoff, Joe found them pay his due.
These small dark boys they had some fun,yes hid their tracks with care.
Joe saw the tracks of only one, or the other ones were there.
One boy would carry piggy back, then came the others turn.
A way to hide one fellows track, gave the tracker some concern?
Joe followed cantered in their wake, knew their tracks in any bunch.
To find them was a piece of cake, so he took em home for lunch.
Joe's brother Dick was branded bad, now an outlaw on the run.
A publican robbed him, made him mad, Dick smashed his grog, the bum.
The traps they came, but couldn't find, Dick's cave the hideout site,
Couldn't follow the White's, who didn't mind,scrub galloping day or night.
So Dick White he then set off, with brothers Joe and Charlie too.
They rode due west three states they'd cross,till Broome came into view.
Dick's wife and kids by ship did pass, then on to Broome by overland.
Joe left Dick there safe at last,rode east through desert sand.
Joe and Charlie back they came,through the land that worked the horse.
They'd throw scrubbers, Brumbies they were game,
horse breakers yes of course.They'd throw a Brumby on his side,
quickly lugged his head by force. Would saddle up and mount and ride,
and coax him home a horse. Joe entered the open Campdraft mate,
with a wee small handicap.Left his bridle and girth straps on the gate,
won the Mungindi cup old chap. Joe's Brumby runners one was Dan,
at Glenrowan hadn't died.Alex Wilkie chased as off they ran,
and Moffat he could ride.The legend lives of Joe this man,
true master of the horse.The drovers talked of him and Dan,
and Hippy yes of course.