STAMPEDE
There have been times when I must admit I was not as agile or intelligent as I should have been but only once ending up a bit bent and in hospital. It is a different story regarding the horses we schooled. To keep us supplied with enough mounts to keep thirteen stockmen in the field daily we took on any horses that were offered free of charge.
We got some bandits - but they taught us horsemanship. At one period a fellow manager and myself felt we kept the local hospital in funds and the physiotherapist in the lap of luxury.
A small immature steer had got itself into a mob that was being held in a small “boma” or pen prior to being trucked to the abattoir and I had gone in to cut it out. It caught me a hefty kick in the left knee and I went down. Fortunately I was near the post and rail fence so was able to roll underneath it to safety. I found four of my stockmen whom I had just told I needed no help, pinning me down, two sitting on my upper torso and two pulling my lower leg. They later told me my leg looked a bit bent so they decided to straighten it! My wife, bless her, got me into hospital but not before she had sent off the mob including the youngster. There is little doubt that every camp and compound on the property heard that night how the bwana, poor misguided creature that he was tried to cut out a ‘calf’ and got himself kicked into hospital. It is unlikely they would mention the ‘calf’ weighed some four hundred pounds. Incidentally medical opinion told me they had done the right thing and I spent some time in bed with my leg immobilized between bags filled with lead shot. While it is possible that several hours of entertainment were gained recalling these two events around camp and compound fires they pale into insignificance compared to the best bit of entertainment seen not only by my men but the railway staff and most of the inhabitants of the small rail siding township for years.
We always seemed to attract a bunch of onlookers when we arrived at the station yard. The chance of seeing someone getting on the wrong side of an irate beast no matter how remote was too good to miss. Today was to exceed all their expectations.
We had loaded several bogies with some 70 head without any trouble. Wanting to make a note of the bogie numbers I dismounted, gave my horse and whip to a man to hold while I did so. Walking away I heard a crash and a yell from the direction of the line of wagons and on looking towards it I saw a steer coming at me at the rate of knots. All
64 FOUR SHIRES v MARCH 2012
thoughts of standing my ground melted away. I turned and ran and there was a long way to run for the yard had suddenly emptied leaving me no chance of getting some poor chap between me and what looked something like an enraged rhino. He would with luck have become a new target!
I have known this work. It was an awfully big yard. The tips of a pair of horns appeared, one each side of my backside. Gentle contact was made as we were both traveling at the about same speed. Often, after times of crises, ones memories appear to be crystal clear if not always in the right sequence and I remember thinking that if I survive this, Joan, my wife was going to be very cross with me for getting into this situation. My weight was causing the beast to lower its head and my feet were liable to trip it up. Should this happen I could well end up underneath it. Not a nice thought.
That problem was solved by tremendous toss of the animal’s head that sent me sailing through the air to land flat on my belly, spread-eagled in the dust. While scrabbling around, trying to work out how I might be able to get my heels into its eyes and ward off any attempt to flatten me I became aware that the beast had left. He no doubt was as pleased to have got rid of my weight as I was to see his hindquarters disappearing into the surrounding heavy bush and thorn scrub.
I was not, however, too pleased when upon regaining some of my composure to see my men along with various members of the station staff hanging onto fences, railway wagons and any other perches of comparative safety that they had been able to find. They were, much to my
indignation, all laughing themselves stupid. I was about to tell them their fortunes for a crack of a whip or two might have diverted the charge when a small child came up to me in a voice that all could hear said “Bwana, you went across the yard just like a ‘piki piki’, (or a motor bike). This brought forth more gales of laughter so infectious that I had to join in myself leaving me quite unable to tear them off the intended strip. The top door of one of the bogies had not been securely shut and a more than normally athletic steer had leapt out.
I still had a problem, a steer carrying our brand was rampaging around the countryside and it would not be long before we would have complaints and demands for compensation of bogus attacks on people and acres of crops trampled.
I sent my young assistant out with his heavy rifle to track the thing down, shoot it and leave it where it dropped for it would not be long before every piece of it would be chopped up and taken by people who would be unable to believe their luck. Nor could my assistant, who liked nothing better than a few days roaming the bush.
May I suggest that if you do not wish to become a casualty, especially if you are walking a dog take a good strong stick with you, wave it wildly at any intimidating beast and shout at it in an aggressive manner. Just as you can tell if a dog is friendly or otherwise by the tone of its bark animals are able to get the message from the tone of your voice.
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