THE HORSES STAY BEHIND

In days to come we’ll wander west And cross the range again.

We’ll hear the bush birds singing In the green gums after rain. We’ll canter through the Mitchell grass And breast the bracing wind.

But we’ll have other horses,

Our chargers stay behind.

Around the fire at night we’ll yarn About the old Sinai.

We’ll fight our battles o’er again And as the days go by. There’ll be old mates to greet us. The bush girls will be kind.

Still our thoughts will often wander To the horses left behind.

I don’t think I could stand the thought Of my old fancy hack

Just crawling round old Cairo With a Gyppo on his back. Perhaps some English tourist

Out in Palestine may find My broken-hearted Waler

With a wooden plough behind.

No I think I’d better shoot him And tell a little lie. He floundered in a wombat hole And then lay down to die. Maybe I’ll get court-martialled But I’m damned if I’m inclined To go back to Australia

And leave my horse behind.

Maybe I’ll get court-martialled But I’m damned if I’m inclined To go back to Australia And leave my horse behind.

Australian Light Horsemen water their horses at Ain es Sultan. Tradition stated this was the water that Old Testament prophet Elisha healed with salt and was known as Elisha’s Spring. With calm temperaments, agility and sturdiness, Walers were prized by the Australian Light Horse. Bringing imported Australian Walers ashore by small boats in Madras (now Chennai), India, was a perilous business as depicted in this painting from c.1834.