Cattle on cattle stations are a battle. Let’s face it. they are. They can be a constant problem as well as a joy.
I am talking stations not farms.
I mean that there is a big difference between farms and stations. I should know because:
I owned a farm or two.
I owned a few cattle stations too.
I ran a lot of cattle over a long period – the years 1984 – 2012.
To give you an idea, I first ran Herefords, but ultimately changed the breed and then ran up to 100 Angus breeders at Coldstream in the fabulous Yarra Valley, Victoria. This was an easy job.
I bought a place near Wagga Wagga and ran 250 breeders on the Murrumbidgee River in N.S.W.
Cattle and the Darling River.
I moved up the action and bought a cattle station. I once yarded over 1900 head at Old Budda, my station on the Darling River, N.S.W.
The strange thing was that a neighbour, Max Russell, looked them over and said, “I have never seen so many cattle.” Max had lived there his entire life and was, from memory, about 80 at the time.
Great bloke Max, and an excellent pilot. He took me and my boy up in the air in his Cessna. What a view!
I traded up again.
I bought and operated Boorara Station near Hungerford QLD. Boorara was a true cattle station of 1200 square km.
Along the way I got some education. Some it was from Experience but ultimately i went to Uni. For the sake of it, I hold a Bachelor of Applied Science (Agriculture).
Cattle – 1984. Just looking.
Years ago I caught my builder friend sitting and looking at his Herefords. I wondered what he was doing. Such strange behaviour?
I asked him.
Gary said, “Oh, I am just looking at them, I like looking at them.”
O.K. I admit it. I did find that strange, and it was a few years before I came to understand quite what he meant.
You see, once you warm to the idea, sitting and looking at your cattle can be both educational and inspiring. It can also be very calming and relaxing.
Sometimes I wondered how they felt when they were looking right back at me?
So now I am admitting that I have spent a fair bit of time just looking at cattle. Just looking and relaxing while I go about the strenuous task of looking at cattle.
Cattle and cattle looks and crooks.
Maybe you have heard the saying that “All Chinese people look alike?” Well, this might be considered racist, but I can tell you that it is by no means correct. They do not all look alike.
This is true with cattle. The more you look, the more you see.
See what?
You see the differences, some standing out like the proverbial, and others so subtle that you could miss it. You can read extensively about that particular point when you follow the story about a big deal legal action about a stolen bull in Buying and Selling Boorara. Volume One Part B.
Back to the looking bit. The colouring of the cow and the face of that beast can tell you much about the progeny. Looking around you may see, close by, a calf with almost perfect duplication in these aspects.
Perhaps as you watch them chew? My goodness, I hope you have grass.
Or maybe you watch them drink. I do hope you have water. Not everyone has it.
You know the main reason I was so taken by Boorara as compared to Old Budda, which I readily admit I simply loved to pieces?
Cattle and Water.
On Old Budda I had water, some might think fantastic water. Well, O.K. There is the Darling River frontage, big stuff. But the Darling has on occasion damn near dried up.
I had dams, and they were good dams. But they can be a damn nuisance when they dry, as if the cattle are weak, they easily get bogged in the soft edge on the waterline. My dams did not dry completely but what happened in the drought that followed I did not discover.
I had bores. But they were not deep artesian bores. No, these were sub-artesian and not so deep; one had to pump the water up out of the ground. The previous owner had windmills. Fairly reliable windmills, but if the wind does not blow, then it is no go.
I was lucky to have a good run of seasons and I made the best of it. I stocked up and kept stocked up while the rain fell and the pastures grew. I ended up with close to 2000 head of cattle.
I was more modern and as a result my son (Nic) and I installed a solar system with a tracking set up. I loved seeing that thing work. First thing in the morning my solar array would turn and face the morning sun. Pumping would commence. Joy!
Water from the power of the sun. Cattle drinking – all good. Bit like this one!
As the day progressed my faithful servant tracked the sun and continued pump.. pump.. pump until the sun settled over the western horizon. Fabulous…………………. and the way of the future for sure.
But when the river dried , the damned dams shrunk, and the main sources were the artesian wells. My cattle needed more to drink than what nature and farm improvements could provide. The solution was a generator running all night. Well, that filled the tanks, which were empty by morning when the sun finally came out and stood duty. The generator was relieved when my solar soldier was sentry and guard to all that mattered.
CATTLE BREEDS.
I started with Herefords but pinkeye put me off. I chose Angus and carried a fair few of those on the Darling.
Although I might have preferred to be a breeder, I was in fact an opportunist. I stocked heavily when I had heaps of feed and water. I reduced the herd when I didn’t. I guess I would have got around to herd improvement in a bigger way, but it is harder on wild remote country, where fences in poor condition and neighbours with lower standards and a ton of avarice can be troublesome.
Mostly I had good neighbours but if you read my books you will find out more, and some of it hugely negative.
I really liked the Shorthorns, but Santa Gertrudis proved special.
In the end, I came to admire the Brahman crosses, and especially like my Honey Brahmans.
I learned a lot about cattle and cattle operations. They teach you much at Uni but you learn a lot on the land. You learn by experience and you also learn who you can trust when getting advice. You learn to avoid fools, but you also must forgive people with good intentions occasionally getting it wrong. That is ALL IN THE BOOK too.
Actually there is a lot in the three Volumes. A hell of a lot.
Cattle and their idiosyncracies.
Anyway, I am talking about cattle.
How they sometimes need help. And sometimes you need help or faster legs.
I once stood on one side of the round yard and was surprised to see my manager flying through the air like Superman. He landed at my feet with his nose licking at my boots. Thank God! He was unharmed. A miracle.
Another story is my belt and buckle story; this is one with bullocks laughing at the poor, unfortunate stockmen running around, beltless, with their pants falling down.
I also remember an encounter with a mad cow. So cunning and so experienced at evasion and so able to use the big dam to defeat me. No. I won, I outsmarted that old girl. I sat on my bike, right in front of her, and faced her down.
The big challenge. Time for her to turn away and join the mob of cattle being mustered nearby.
No! No! Suddenly, head and horns down. Two steps forward and FLIP.
My bike and I spin in the air – over and to the side. I am lying on the earth still sitting on my “sideways bike” with one leg under.
Meanwhile, the super smart cow, now content, smiles smugly, and trots off and away.
Defeated by a damn cow in a damn dam.
Cattle and really wild cattle.
I reckon I could go on. For example, we used to bump and throw the big feral bulls. Tie’em up and tie’em down. Winch them onto the truck. We’d use the tractor or the loader to carry them out of the scrub. It was a big job. Sometimes dangerous. Some of the feral bulls and wild cows were too crazy and too wild. You can read about the feral Hereford bull – about ten years of age and never been in a yard
Until I got him there. He snorted, wild eyed with rage, and he began breaking the steel bars by twisting with his horns. We realized that we were going to be in trouble if that big bastard got out but I fixed the problem with a 30.30 Winchester bullet. So sad, so disappointing, but I am alive to tell that story.
How about the one where I arrive at Old Budda to find that my daughter Carla and her school friends have already yarded the cattle. What an amazing mob of youngsters!
On and on we go.