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Project Gutenberg Australia HomeReturn to Index of Poems
His monicre was Sam-yel Gunn,
And he could stick like hide
On anything on Bando run
When Bando run was wide.
He was somewhat related to
The manager, they say,
Who started as a jackeroo
When times were wild and gay.
And this b'ing so, you'll understand,
Whene'er he went to town,
They let him play the cowboy hand,
And run his spirits down;
Then trade was brisk, and mischief rife,
For he was mountain bred,
And you can bet your pocket-knife
He'd paint that township red.
He'd round up all the towny clan,
Ride into Simpson's store,
He'd auctioneer the nuisance man,
And brand him back and fore;
He'd place some forms across the street,
And top with brooms and tins,
Then steeplechase in naked feet
With half-a-dozen gins.
One day he caught Aunt Betty's cow—
I knew the old girl well—
He rode her up the stairs, somehow
Of the Boomerang Hotel;
And out upon the balconee
He found a good young man,
A missionary chap was he
From down the Muttabran.
He dumped him as you'd dump a kid
Across her shoulder bones,
And down the stairs they thumped and slid,
'Mid shrieks and prayers and groans,
The gaping crowd without was cleft
As Sam let out a yell,
And at an awkward gallop left
The Boomerang Hotel.
Near by there was a crossing where
A mob of fats looked grim,
With drovers wheeling here and there
To make the beggars swim;
And Sam-yel down the bank made tracks,
Then through the air was borne—
He rode across those bullocks' backs,
And never fouled a horn.
That missionary man was scared,
And in the swim got free,
And while those drovers gasped and stared,
He climbed a wattle tree;
For after Sam the cattle ran,
Or after Betty's cow—
‘Tis quieter down at Muttabran,
And so he's missing now.
But Sam-yel Gunn of Bando run,
Rode into Murphy's bar,
Said, “Give this cow of beer a tun,
An' me a triple star.”
And while he made his noisy flight
Beyond, the township flats,
Old Betty's cow went home that night
As drunk as forty cats.
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