The Man From Snowy River

The Man From Snowy River - Slim Dusty

There was movement at the station

For the word had passed around that

The colt from old regret had got away

And had joined the wild bush horses

He was worth a thousand pounds

So all the cracks had gathered to the fray

All the tried and noted riders from the stations

Near and far had mustered at the homestead overnight

For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are

And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight

There was harrison who made his pile when pardon won the cup

And the old man with his hair as white as snow

But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up

He would go wherever horse or man could go

And clancy of the overflow came down to lend a hand

No better horseman ever held the reins

For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths would stand

And he learnt to ride while droving on the plains

And one was there a stripling on a small and weedy beast

He was something like a racehorse undersized

With a touch of timor pony

Three parts thoroughbred at least

And such as are by mountain horsemen prized

He was hard and tough and wiry

Just the sort that won't say die

There was courage in his quick impatient tread

And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright

Nd fiery eye and the proud and lofty carriage of his head

But still so slight and weedy

One would doubt his power to stay and the old man said

Hat horse will never do

For a long and tiring gallop lad

You'd better stop away

Those hills are far too rough for such as you

So he waited sad and wistful

Only clancy stood his friend

Oh I think we ought to let him come he said

And I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end

For both his horse and he are mountain bred

Oh he hails from snowy river up by kosciusko's side

Where the hill twice as steep and twice as rough

Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride

The man that holds his own is good enough

And the snowy river riders on the mountains make their home

Where the river runs those giant hills between

I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam

But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen

So he went they found the horses by the big mimosa clump

They raced away towards the mountain's brow

And the old man gave his orders

Boys go at them from the jump

No use to try for fancy riding now

And clancy you must wheel them

Try and wheel them to the right

Ride boldly lad and never fear the spills

For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight

If once they gain the shelter of those hills

So clancy rode to wheel them he was racing on the wing

Where the best and boldest riders take their place

And he raced his stock-horse past them

And he made the ranges ring

With the stockwhip as he met them face to face

Then they halted for a moment while he swung the dreaded lash

But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view

And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash

And off into the mountain scrub they flew

Then fast the horsemen followed

Where the gorges deep and black

Resounded to the thunder of their tread

And the stockwhips woke the echoes

And they fiercely answered back

From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead

And upward ever upward the wild horses held their way

Where kurrajong and mountain ash grew wide

And the old man muttered fiercely

We may bid the mob good day

NO man can hold them down the other side

When they reached the mountain's summit

Even clancy took a pull

It well might make the boldest hold their breath

The wild hop scrub grew thickly and the hidden ground was full

Of wombat holes and any slip was death

But the man from snowy river let the pony have his head

And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer

And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed

While the others stood and watched in very fear

He sent the flint stones flying but the pony kept his feet

He cleared the fallen timber in his stride

And the man from snowy river never shifted in his seat

It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride

Through the stringy barks and saplings

On the rough and broken ground

Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;

And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound

At the bottom of that terrible descent

He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill

And the watchers on the mountain standing mute

Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely

He was right among them still

As he raced across the clearing in pursuit

Then they lost him for a moment

Where two mountain gullies met in the ranges

But a final glimpse reveals

On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet

With the man from snowy river at their heels

And he ran them single-handed

Till their sides were white with foam

He followed like a bloodhound on their track

Till they halted cowed and beaten

Then he turned their heads for home

And alone and unassisted brought them back

But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot

He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;

But his pluck was still undaunted and his courage fiery hot

For never yet was mountain horse a cur

And down by kosciusko where the pine-clad ridges raise

Their torn and rugged battlements on high

Where the air is clear as crystal and the white stars fairly blaze

At midnight in the cold and frosty sky

And where around the overflow the reedbeds sweep and sway

To the breezes and the rolling plains are wide

Oh the man from snowy river is a household word to-day

And the stockmen tell the story of his ride

And the stockmen tell the story of his ride

And the stockmen tell the story of his ride

And the stockmen tell the story of his ride