So, I'll tell you a story. A little altered for the purpose of protecting the identity of a person and property. I don't think they'd like it if everyone knew that they were being chased and not being the one doing the chasing.
A number of years ago during the Build-Up the stockcamp, the manager and myself were all out mustering sale cattle from a paddock that backs onto pastorally unused land. Out of this land comes all sorts animals.
On this particular day, all was going well. I was parked up on the tail, moving out of way for cattle being brought in by the chopper then closing the gap again once I'd finished bringing them in to the mob. I'd go out around the ones coming in once they'd reached a certain point along the fenceline. As I sat there on my horse waiting for two particular head to come in my partner-in-crime of many years told me that I might want to move right out of the way for these two. As usual I ignored him and second guessed him till the cattle came in that little bit closer and his tone became a bit more urgent. I screwed my head back on and heeded his warning and moved a few places around the mob.
"Further than that!" he reckoned. By this point, the bovine pair were close enough for me to see what they were and 'further than that' I did move... right around to the lead of the mob. And I'm glad I did because when they got to the mob, one of them was a very unhappy camper. With speary horns and a shiny black coat, 600kgs of testosterone fuelled madness set his eyes on the nearest culprit of his agitation. The big cleanskin bull lined up the manager on his horse that we'll refer to as Big R. The manager set Big R, who's blind in one eye, in a tail turn and off they galloped with the scrub bull right up their clacker. I'm sure they felt the breath of that bull heating their behinds. One false move by the horse and they would have been gone but Big R kept his feet as they raced away from the mob till the bull gave up the chase and headed off into the depths of the paddock. I watched the event unfold with my heart in my mouth.
Years later, on a nearby property that also backs onto the pastorally unused land, I saw that mean, cleanskin bull again. Pulling down an old fence I kept a very wary eye on his whereabouts. I knew his potential and be damned if I wanted to be caught out. I told the boy I was working with to keep his eyes peeled too because Blacky wasn't the only scrub bull there. But after a while I became complacent while tending to my task and next thing I know, I look up and he's merely metres away from me. I looked over at the boy and mouthed "Holy f***!" while I tried to figure out what my next move should be or if I should make one at all. I looked around me. I had one thick tree to my left and one to my right but despite that there was still too much distance between me and the trees and I decided that once I was behind one I was good as stuck because all the other trees were too thin to use as protection. Nope, not using that option. What else?
After a moment I decided upon a wide berth around the bull back to the old toyota. I slowly and carefully stepped over the old, falling-down fence and backed away. As I placed my feet one of the old cows spooked and took off, bumping into the bull as she spun round and leading him and a few other cows away as she scampered off. My heart skipped a beat as I took the opportunity to move just that little bit faster away from the bull to the safety of the toyota where I calmed my nerves and had a drink of water. I did not like being caught out like that but I was fortunate that he was as worried as I was. He's still out there, impregnating cows that have been removed from the herd bulls. But sure as hell I don't want to be there the next time a chopper is out there mustering that paddock or next time his mood won't be so accomodating!
