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Ray told Jenny that their task for the morning was to ‘do a bit of stock work’ on the horses. This vague plan for the mornings’ activities was met with trepidation, as in Jenny’s experience, Ray’s idea of a bit of stock work sometimes developed into an eight hour ordeal. Although Jenny loved riding, the thought of chasing bulls through the bush or headlong across the paddock left her quaking in her Blundstone boots! It was OK for Ray, he had been doing it for years, but she was new to this way of life.
After a tiring four hours in the saddle, moving mobs of cattle to fresh pasture, Ray wanted to bring in a small group of cattle and it took a stressful half hour of riding before the mob were finally in the yard. They were wild eyed and snorting, rushing from one pen to another. Jenny watched from a safe position behind the six foot high iron bars of the yard, relieved that her part was over.
‘Jenny, you stand in there and make sure none of them get through that gate until I tell you!’ yelled Ray.
‘What?’ yelled Jenny in disbelief. She wasn’t getting in there!…..
She stood trembling in front of the gateway, and every time an animal ran in her direction, Jenny shut her eyes and screamed. Unintentional though it was, this tactic worked just fine, the cattle jumped away from the gate. Jenny couldn’t believe she was still standing there, alive, but when the huge, crazed black cow ran straight for her, it was too much. She squealed in terror and jumped over the fence hurriedly.
‘I can’t do this, Ray. I just can’t!’ She cried, but Ray was calmly closing the gate, an amused smile on his face.
‘Great, that’s the one I wanted! You know it’s pretty rare that an animal will have a go at you’, Ray said airily, ‘they’re usually just bluffing. You were fine; you can help me sort out that big mob of steers in the yard tomorrow!’
Jenny stared at him incredulously. Over my dead body! She thought to herself. Grinning at the look on Jenny’s face, Ray let the rest of the herd out of the yard. They disappeared down the laneway at top speed. Evidently, the cow left behind did not like this one bit, and when Ray entered the pen to push her into the cattle crush, the cow lined him up.
She was at top speed in a fraction of a second, thundering across the small pen in a flash, straight at the stockman, her head lowered. His expression of complacency disappeared instantly, but by the time his body had reacted, the cow was almost upon him. Ray was a slow talking farmer, but he proved he could move quickly when the need arose. He could feel the hot breath of the animal on his back, and anticipating the thrust of the horns, he seemed to fly over the bars with almost no effort, the adrenalin surge giving his feet wings.
Jenny saw the whole thing as if it were slow motion, the mad, sweating animal close on Ray’s heels, the look of terror on his face, and the billowing oilskin coat as Ray hurdled the iron bars and Jenny as well, passing overhead in a graceful arc, his long arms and legs flying.
Ray passed over Jenny, and saw her expression reflecting his own, eyes staring and mouth open wide in a silent scream of horror. His only fleeting thought was that he would have a devil of a job convincing Jenny to help him with the steers tomorrow! Jennifer Armstrong
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