Brumby’s Run

by AB Patteson

It lies beyond the Western Pines
Towards the sinking sun,
And not a survey mark defines
The bounds of “Brumby’s Run”.

On odds and ends of mountain land,
On tracks of range and rock
Where no one else can make a stand,
Old Brumby rears his stock.

A wild, unhandled lot they are
Of every shape and breed.
They venture out ‘neath moon and star
Along the flats to feed;

But when the dawn makes pink the sky
And steals along the plain,
The Brumby horses turn and fly
Towards the hills again.

The traveller by the mountain-track
May hear their hoof-beats pass,
And catch a glimpse of brown and black
Dim shadows on the grass.
The eager stockhorse pricks his ears
And lifts his head on high
In wild excitement when he hears
The Brumby mob go by.

Old Brumby asks no price or fee
O’er all his wide domains:
The man who yards his stock is free
To keep them for his pains.

So, off to scour the mountain-side
With eager eyes aglow,
To strongholds where the wild mobs hide
The gully-rakers go.

A rush of horses through the trees,
A red shirt making play;
A sound of stockwhips on the breeze,
They vanish far away!

Ah, me! before our day is done
We long with bitter pain
To ride once more on Brumby’s Run
And yard his mob again.

The Aboriginal term for wild horse is ‘Brumby’ At a trial in Sydney Supreme Court in 1895, a Court Judge hearing of ‘Brumby’ asked. “Who is Brumby and where is his run?” © by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

Sharen Jeffries Please, together, pray for a Miracle

Words carry so much energy and as creators, what we focus on has much power. I am in awe of how so many Brumby supporters have grown beyond their differences and are merging into one incredible force. The work every single person is doing is nothing short of heroic. We can create change.

It’s such a sickness in this world that let’s evil forces dictate the terms of life here on earth. For any and all that choose life-less over life, wether by deed or apathy, know that you are complicit in bringing suffering down also upon your own self.

The Spirit of our wild Brumbies will always live on in their powerful glory. They will always be free … unlike all those that wish their demise, whose weakened Souls are diminished by aligning with evil.

(Pictured) one of my Brumbies that I have the honour to call family. My teacher. My healer. My prayer.

APU, Mountain Spirit … your beautiful Soul carries the essence of freedom and earth-healing. May your free wild kin survive this day and continue to gift this world their deep healing energy. LET IT BE SO (amen)