The Ballad of Ian and the Crazy Heifer- The Men from Snowy River Re-enactment March

It was Ian from Delegate,
Who caught the marching craze.
And lead the Snowy River Men,
To walk eleven days.
From Delegate to Goulburn
Three fifty Ks to roam
And sleep in halls, and tents and sheds,
Until they could go home.

And then on the Old Bombala Rd.,
A mishap did occur
It involved an Angus heifer,
A frightened angry cur.
The heifer had got out
And was upon the road.
She was surprised to see the men.
Their activity seemed to goad,
Her into action, and she ran into the fence.
Young and frightened she got entangled.
She was acting very dense,
And stupid, and tried to get herself free.
When standing unawares close by,
Peeing behind a tree,
Was Ian.

The heifer saw red,
For next to him, leaning on the tree,
Was the banner of the Snowy River Men,
And as the heifer was now free.
She ran at the red ensign.
And fumbling at his fly,
Ian bravely gathered up his wits,
And gathered up the sign.
And poked the crazy heifer.
Whose blood was fairly raised
Until she made her final stand,
Pawed the dust,
And ran at him,
Still dazed.

For a moment, of man and beast, I lost sight.
For they were behind the tree.
Until lying on her back, legs asplay,
On the far side of the fence,
I saw the heifer,
Who was at last,
Free.

But where was the brave Ian?
Tending wounds, from this terrible offence?

No, he was giving the cow a mighty kick, (to help it onto its feet),
And fixing up the fence.






tending mortal wounds

Snowy River Men

So young,
The Snowy River Men.
When Baragry mounted the stage,
And called,
"Who is with me?"
Twelve looked toward adventure,
And escape from the labours of axe and plough.
They commenced the long walk.
And at each juncture,
Were received as pre-emptive  heroes.
Ladies fell upon them,
With embraces, hot tea and sandwiches,
Men, with the promise of glory,
Or a hero's death,
Swelled their ranks.
Footsore and weary they tramped to the beat of their song;

"We have come from the mountains and the everlasting snow,"
"We have come from the mountains where the Snowy River flows"

They may have been "ready now for glory" but none of them knew,
If they'd be coming home.
So one hundred years on,
We still know the youthful faces,
Those naïve young men.
Who didn't come home.
Their optimistic smiles radiate beneath,
The green felt hat and emu feather.
From the walls of the Delegate School of Arts,
In brand new frames.