Clancy's Snowy River Bicycle Christening

[keats]

CLANCY’S SNOWY RIVER BICYCLE CHRISTENING

There was movement at the Station, for the word had passed around
That Clancy of the Overflow was pissed in the Pub in town
All the tried and noted riders had come from near and far
‘Cause it always took near twenty blokes to drag Clancy from the Bar.

And our Priest claimed that the cause of Clancy being uncivilised
Was because the boozin’ old Heathen had never been baptised
So we schemed, then headed for the Pub, to distract him while he was plastered
Then the Priest could sneak up behind Clancy, and --- Bingo!---- baptise the old Bastard

But when we arrived at the local Pub, old Clancy was sparring about
Claiming some bloke named Saltbush Bill was welching on his shout
He was completely drunk to the eyeballs, his temper was on a hair-trigger
And he hadn’t had a bath for near on a month, cause he was black as a bloody nig-thumbnail dipped in tar

So we dragged him to the bar to distract him, and shouted him five rounds of beer
“He ought to be home,” the old man said, “he’s trouble when he’s lost around here.”
But we had the situation in hand, kept him standing there drinkin’ and listenin’
He’d be right as rain and as good as gold as soon as he’d been christened.

And that’s when the Priest came sneaking in, with the holy water in hand
But he tripped over Mulga Bill near the door, and flat on his face he did land
The water flew like a Travelling Post Office, straight across the bar
Knocking down, right above Clancy’s head, a Maginnis’s Whisky Jar

“We’ll all be ruined!” said Hanrahan, as Clancy sat there stunned
I started to get a little bit edgy, and poor Kiley got the runs
“We’ll all be ruined!” said Hanrahan, as Clancy’s mouth turned to foam
And Banjo Patterson stuck his head in the door, and said “That’s not my bloody poem!”

The Priest had jumped up, still reeling about from the knockupon his head
Shouted out “Clancy I christen you......” tripped again and screamed “......Bugger me dead!!!!”
Well, Clancy to this name he’d been christened, took an instant dislike
Bashed everybody then raced out the door and jumped on Mulga Bill’s Bike.

He peddled past the big Mimosa Clump, as the bicycle lurched with a quiver
Being hotly pursued by the bravest amongst us, the Man from Snowy River!
Who, though had arrived on a mountain-bred horse, a small and weedy beast
Someone had stole it from out front the Pub, so instead he was riding the Priest.

The tyres sent flint stones flying, but Clancy kept the bike on track
As ten yards behind and closing fast, was the Priest with the Man on his back!
They raced on past a billabong, and an old man perched on a swag
Then they passed some Troopers and Clancy yelled out “I saw him stick a Jumbuck in his Tuckerbag!”

They raced on down past Dandaloo, and round a corner did ride
Ran over some bush ranger counting his gold, and that’s actually how Gilbert died
Clancy was peddling for his life, still keeping that bike on course
As the Man whipped the Priest and made him run like Father Rielly’s Horse

“You won’t catch me!” Clancy called to the Man, “From Walgett to the sea
From Conroy’s Gap to Castlereagh..........” then ----- BANG! ----- he hit a Coolabah tree
He shot up like a steeplechase rider with I language that I just can’t speak
Then he whistled down an awful slope and landed in Dead Man’s Creek.

Well, the Man from Snowy River swung his stockwhip with a ring
As the Priest cried out “For Christ’s bloody sake, stop hitting me with that thing!!”
He fetched a wild up-country yell, as down the mountain he raced
The Priest let out a blood-curdling scream as he saw the descent that he faced.

But the Man raced down that Mountainside like a torrent down it’s bed
Then the Priest tripped over a sapling, and the Man landed on his head
He was face to face with Clancy, and was filled to the brim with fear
As Clancy said with a ‘orrible moan, “There’s only two of us here!”he said, “There’s only two of us ‘ere!”

Then Banjo Patterson’s head shot out of that murky creek for a breather
“There’s only two of us here?” he said “I never wrote that bugger either!”
And the fight began in Dead Man’s Creek, the two were ducking and swaying
While the poor old Priest knelt on the bank, doing some serious praying

The men set to work with tooth and nail, throwing their fists about
But Clancy was landing them three to his one, and near knocked the other bloke out
“When I’m finished,“ yelled Clancy, “You’ll wish you’d taken some of Johnson’s antidote!”
As some bloke from Ironbark screamed on by, grasping his bloomin’ throat

Just as the man from Snowy River thought his winning hopes were sunk
Clancy attempted a round-house kick, forgetting that he was drunk
He fell down cowed and beaten,and knocked himself out on a log
As the Priest roared out a thunderous prayer, saying “Thank the Lord for Grog!!”

Then past the graves of the Cuffs and Collars, and the Geebung Polo Club
Alone and unassisted, they headed on back to the Pub
We saw them approach from a distance, we’d been wonderin’ where they were
The poor old Priest from shoulder to hip, was covered in blood from the spur

And the Man from Snowy River, slowed that Priest down to a trot
Dragging a tied up Clancy behind them, like some animal Noah forgot
He looked like some bloody old whim horse, dragged from where the dead men lie
“And I never wrote either of them bastards!” Banjo Patterson followed and cried

And now down by Kosiosko, lives that Man from Snowy River
With memories of his famous ride, and chirosis of the liver
But he cringes in fear when he hears that voice call hauntingly through the scrub
“We’ll all be ruined!” cries Hanrahan, “’Cause Clancy’s back in the Pub!!!!!!”


Neil McArthur
© 1998

[Neville Briggs]

You've worked in a whole anthology of bush verse there.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Geez! You made an epic tale out of that - did you leave anyone out? You even managed to get the Flintstones in there as well Well done for covering all the bases and then some and Glenny's gonna get you. Bad Boy Bad Boy - Paterson with 2 t's OMG - and you might wan't to try cirrhosis of the liver

[Bob Pacey]

Almost a bloody novel Keats.

Bob