Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MONEENEE, by ANONYMOUS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MONEENEE, by                    
First Line: This is the tale of one who lived and suffered years ago
Last Line: And a native boy who gave his life when safety was in sight
Subject(s): "aborigines, Australian;death;heroism;horse Racing;" "dead, The;heroes;heroines;


THIS is the tale of one who lived and suffered years ago,
Away back in Western Queensland where the swollen rivers flow.
He worked for Trooper Gilbert who was tracking raiders then
For miles around the country with half a dozen men.
He was a sort of rouseabout and helpmate all in one,
And guarded oft through lonely nights the trooper's wife and son;
Moneenee was the name he bore, a native boy was he,
Whose life and thoughts were fresh and wild and like the breezes free.

He loved a long, cool swim at dawn, he loved a reckless ride,
And often in the evening with the trooper at his side
He loved to tell a stirring tale of many a year gone by,
Of how the North men beat the South, and made the big spears fly.
And Trooper Gilbert loved the lad next to his own small child,
And many a happy day they spent out in the forest wild,
Till it came about one New Year's eve when Gilbert had to go
With many others to a town—a dozen miles or so,

That Gilbert's son grew very ill, and none was near to guide
The stricken mother, nor to be a comfort by her side,
None save the little native boy who, half in wistful fear,
Drew near and questioned with a look her quickly fallen tear;
Then cried the mother like one wrung to the heart with mortal pain:
"There's not a horse within ten miles that's worth a bridle's rein,
And who will ride to Branden town and bring the doctor back?
And who will tell your master now that death is on the track?"

But up then spoke Moneenee, and a reckless laugh laughed he,
"Why, I'll ride into Branden town and bring them back with me.
There's Starlight's colt been running wild as young things love to do
For well nigh thirteen weeks or more the whole long springtime through;
'T will do him good to take a run across the bush tonight,
So if you let me go at once I'll ride with all my might."
Now Starlight's colt was station bred, a wild, untamèd thing,
That went more swift, more deadly free than bird upon the wing,

And Gilbert's wife tried many a way to stop the reckless boy—
The more she urged the more he wished for that wild tempting joy;
And in the end he caught the colt, sprang on his back and he
Pawed and reared, and plunged to earth, then galloped wild and free.

On and on, three times he tried his little charge to throw,
And once he struck a fallen log, and twice he tried to go
Through bush and brake and all until at last with maddened fear,
With savage rage against a tree that they had come too near—

He crushed his rider angrily, there was a feeble cry,
A sickening little jolt, a scream, and then the colt dashed by
No longer with a reckless lad clinging in glee to him,
But swaying, fainting little form whose eyes were growing dim.
"Oh God." he cried in agony, "I must not, will not die,
Hold fast! Hold fast on to the reins, how swift he sees to fly,
If it costs me a thousand lives I'll ride to Branden town,"
But suddenly he fainter grew, his colt seemed slipping down.

Into a pit of darkness the native boy seemed slipping, too—
"I faint, I die," he cried again. "Oh, master, where are you?"
And like an answer to his prayer was answer given then,
He heard he long-drawn cooeeing shout of Trooper Gilbert's men.
He cooeed back with feeble force, and soon they gathered round,
Puzzled, amazed, to find him there, to know where he was bound.
'Twas Gilbert stayed the angry colt, who snorted loud in sound,
The boy spoke weakly out his tale, then fell down on the ground.

While Gilbert led, the troopers rode sad into town again,
While others bore the little lad back home in silent pain.
With loving hands a woman nursed, but it was all in vain—
The spark of life it flickered low, then a gallant lad was slain;
They buried him on New Year's day where wattle-blossoms blow.
Now Trooper Gilbert's son is grey, but oft when lights are low
He loves to tell the story of a maddened horse by night,
And a native boy who gave his life when safety was in sight.





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