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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344168" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Story of Mongrel Grey</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is the story the stockman told <br>On the cattle-camp, when the stars were bright; <br>The moon rose up like a globe of gold <br>And flooded the plain with her mellow light. <br>We watched the cattle till dawn of day <br>And he told me the story of Mongrel Grey. <br>He was a knock-about station hack, <br>Spurred and walloped, and banged and beat; <br>Ridden all day with a sore on his back, <br>Left all night with nothing to eat. <br>That was a matter of everyday <br>Normal occurrence with Mongrel Grey. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We might have sold him, but someone heard <br>He was bred out back on a flooded run, <br>Where he learnt to swim like a waterbird; <br>Midnight or midday were all as one -- <br>In the flooded ground he would find his way; <br>Nothing could puzzle old Mongrel Grey. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a trick, no doubt, that some horses learn; <br>When the floods are out they will splash along <br>In girth-deep water, and twist and turn <br>From hidden channel and billabong, <br>Never mistaking the road to go; <br>for a man may guess -- but the horses know. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was camping out with my youngest son -- <br>Bit of a nipper, just learnt to speak -- <br>In an empty hut on the lower run, <br>Shooting and fishing in Conroy's Creek. <br>The youngster toddled about all day <br>And there with our horses was Mongrel Grey. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All of a sudden a flood came down, <br>At first a freshet of mountain rain, <br>Roaring and eddying, rank and brown, <br>Over the flats and across the plain. <br>Rising and rising -- at fall of night <br>Nothing but water appeared in sight! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a nasty place when the floods are out, <br>Even in daylight; for all around <br>Channels and billabongs twist about, <br>Stretching for miles in the flooded ground. <br>And to move seemed a hopeless thing to try <br>In the dark with the storm-water racing by. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had to risk it. I heard a roar <br>As the wind swept down and the driving rain; <br>And the water rose till it reached the floor <br>Of our highest room; and 'twas very plain -- <br>The way the torrent was sweeping down -- <br>We must make for the highlands at once, or drown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Off to the stable I splashed, and found <br>The horses shaking with cold and fright; <br>I led them down to the lower ground, <br>But never a yard would they swim that night! <br>They reared and snorted and turned away, <br>And none would face it but Mongrel Grey. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I bound the child on the horse's back, <br>And we started off, with a prayer to heaven, <br>Through the rain and the wind and the pitchy black <br>For I knew that the instinct God has given <br>To prompt His creatures by night and day <br>Would guide the footsteps of Mongrel Grey. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He struck deep water at once and swam -- <br>I swam beside him and held his mane -- <br>Till we touched the bank of the broken dam <br>In shallow water; then off again, <br>Swimming in darkness across the flood, <br>Rank with the smell of the drifting mud. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He turned and twisted across and back, <br>Choosing the places to wade or swim, <br>Picking the safest and shortest track -- <br>The blackest darkness was clear to him. <br>Did he strike the crossing by sight or smell? <br>The Lord that held him alone could tell! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He dodged the timber whene'er he could, <br>But timber brought us to grief at last; <br>I was partly stunned by a log of wood <br>That struck my head as it drifted past; <br>Then lost my grip of the brave old grey, <br>And in half a second he swept away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I reached a tree, where I had to stay, <br>And did a perish for two days' hard; <br>And lived on water -- but Mongrel Grey, <br>He walked right into the homestead yard <br>At dawn next morning, and grazed around, <br>With the child strapped on to him safe and sound. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We keep him now for the wife to ride, <br>Nothing too good for him now, of course; <br>Never a whip on his fat old hide, <br>For she owes the child to that brave grey horse. <br>And not Old Tyson himself could pay <br>The purchase money of Mongrel Grey.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Barton+Paterson">Andrew Barton Paterson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344168" data-title="The Story of Mongrel Grey de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="This is the story the stockman told 
On the cattle-camp, when the stars were bright; 
The moon rose up like a globe of gold 
And flooded the plain with her mellow light. 
We watched the cattle till dawn of day 
And he told me the story of Mongrel ..."></div>
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