The Bushman & the spooky valley

-
The Bushman was helping a mate muster,
On a humid October afternoon,
When part of the heard broke away,
Scattering like a burst confetti balloon.

Consequently he raced off,
With hopes to bring the rouge cattle back,
For returning with only part of the Santa heard,
Would make them all look a little slack.

But his stallion was having issues,
In the unfamiliar forest terrain,
The cattle had the upper hand,
Which 'twas fast becoming a pain.

He followed them up a mountain,
Then into a valley deep,
Stopping to have look around,
Noticed most sides 'twere rather steep.

A creek weaved through the valley,
As The Bushman soon discovered,
Minimal tree coverage soon meant,
All the cattle had been recovered.

Though trees were few and far,
The foliage 'twas dense and thick,
An eerie fog came rolling in fast,
Thus The Bushman wanted to get back quick.

But the cattle didn't want to budge,
And so they stood their ground,
The fog was making it spookier,
Soon he couldn't see around.

Then came a howling wind,
Making everyone scared to move,
The Bushman kept the cattle moving slowly,
Shaky hoove by shaky hoove.

They were almost through the valley,
When they heard an almighty CRACK!
The Bushman's horse reared startled,
And the cattle tried to race on back.

Calming all the animals down,
By singing a joyful tune,
Soon it would be getting dark,
They would then be under the moon.

Through the fog they soon saw,
The bright full moon 'arising,
And a distant campfire glow afar,
That the fog struggled disguising.

The Bushman soon discovered,
'Twas His mates campfire above a side so steep,
The cattle couldn't get out that way,
'Twas just too vertical to creep.

With a quick 'cooee' that echoed well,
The Bushman gained his mates attention,
His location was still obscure though,
For the echo confused the direction.

Rumaging through his saddle bags,
The Bushman found his water flask,
Hoping to use the moon's reflection,
As a signal was now the task.
Aming the beam in a noticable spot,
seemed so much harder than he thought,
The team didn't seem to notice,
the codes that he'd been taught.
Then He manged to shine it,
On his mate's dark Landcrusier door,
Focusing everyones attention,
towards the valley floor.
'twasn't long till his mate on horseback,
Came down to lend a hand,
Assessed the crazy situation,
And helped to keep the cattle manned.
'fore getting spooked cattle out thru' fog,
they thought 'twasn't the wisest thing to do,
So they camped the night in the valley,
Their prescence awakening the odd cockatoo.
'round midnight awoken to a wild ruckus,
The Bushman found the animals mad,
Tethered horses trying to break free,
Cattle bolting from sleep they'd had.
Heads spinning in confusion,
They tried their best to bring them round,
But whatever had caused all the comotion,
Continued on without a sound.
By first light the next morning,
The Bushman had regained control,
Now getting the cattle out through the brush,
Was his challenging role.
It didn't take him too long though,
Rejoing the main heard soon after dawn,
A quick breakfast and they mustered on,
with many a stretch and a yawn.


All the cattle by days end,
Made it safely to the stations yards,
whilst Stories of their night in the valley,
Becoming yarns were on the cards.

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