Catherine [Kate] Buchannan

[thestoryteller]

CATHERINE [KATE] BUCHANAN

Her father called her Kitty this
young lass with lustrous hair;
worn long around an oval face
and eyes - the brownest pair.
She was the apple of his eye,
his right-hand man and bright,
and once she rode - no word of lie,
some sixteen miles - 'twas do or die,
to save her dad one night.

A tall dark stranger rode one eve
into the Gordon's camp
and Cath'rine felt quite drawn to him;
she rather liked his stamp.
Seemed Nat Buchanan felt the same
for cupid shot his dart
and from that time he often came,
'til Katie Gordon took his name,
she'd won this bushman's heart.

Nat loved Kate's gentle manner while
her soft voice had its charm.
Compassion and her Christian faith
both walked 'round arm in arm.
Tenacity and courage lay
deep down within her soul;
much needed when Nat was away,
off blazing trails - Old Paraway,
though Kate too played her role.

She was the first white female to
inhabit 'Bowen Downs'.
A pioneering marvel as
there were no nearby towns.
Then in the year of sixty-four
Kate bore her Nat a son,
young Gordie whom they'd both adore
as Kate and Nat would have no more,
he'd be their only one.

Kate understood Nat's passion to
shift outposts further out
and though it meant his absence her
comportment sure was stout.
So often she would play the role
of waving Nat goodbye,
but with young Gordie by her side
she'd watched with pride as Nat did ride,
out where the dead men lie.

Across the gulf for near twelve months,
he drove twelve hundred head,
'twas hard enough with Nat away
then news - Kate's dad was dead.
No sooner did she have him home
when Nat was asked to shift,
some twenty thousand head of stock,
to Lyons and Fisher's Glencoe block,
her bushman had a gift.

Then Gordie fin'ly finished school
and seized his boyhood dream,
by riding to the Kimberleys,
as part of his dad's team.
With both her men out blazing trails
the months would drag on by
and sometimes, when she had not heard
poor Kate would pray 'til she got word;
relief came with a sigh.

Seemed Nat always had on his mind
to one day, find a home,
where he and Kate could settle down
and need no more to roam.
He'd set his heart on old Wave Hill
up in the Territ'ry,
but fortune did not smile one day
for treachery would have its way
his dream was not to be.

'Twas some time later Gordie took
up Flora Valley in
The Kimberley with Watt and Hugh
as both of them were kin.
Then Kate was reunited with
the men she loved so dear.
She brought a certain brightness to
the homestead as most women do
and filled the place with cheer.

Nat fin'ly made his home camp down
on 'Kenmuir' with his Kate;
among New England's ranges, but
he left his run too late.
She buried Nat at sev'nty five
and said her last farewell
and though they spent much time apart
Kate loved her Nat with all her heart;
‘t’was not too hard to tell.

Today Kate lies beside her man
in Walcha, New South Wales.
He roams no more, her Paraway,
but lives on in men's tales.
If ever loyalty could be
embodied Kate, within a mould
and overlaid with purest gold;
'twould have to be of thee.

Since meeting Bobbie Buchanan on our 1997 trip to Camooweal and reading her book - ‘In the Tracks of Old Bluey’ - the story about her great grandfather, Nat Buchanan, I have held the man in high regard. There have been many tributes paid to him over the years in many different forms, but sadly like many pioneering women, Kate has had little said about the role she played. This is my tribute to her.

© Merv Webster

From the book You're Joking! Milk in Billy Tea!