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Updated: June 19, 2025
There is a special saddle made for buckjumpers, provided with heavy pads to prop the knee against, and so prevent the rider from being chucked forward, and this is sometimes assisted by securely fastening an iron bar with a roll of blanket around it across the pommel of the saddle.
Ye ken neither horrse nor cattle. Mony's the time ye never rode buckjumpers, Mr. Billy" and with this parting-shot the old man turned into the house, and White-when-he's-wanted came back to the head station. For a while he was a sort of pariah. He used to yard the horses, fetch up the cows, and hunt travelling sheep through the run.
Many of the horses supplied by Government were very wild and sometimes behaved like professional buckjumpers; and it is no easy task to control the eccentric and unexpected gyrations of such a beast when the rider is encumbered with the management of a heavy Lee-Metford rifle. Since the day on which I first saw the squadron in question it has passed through its baptism of fire at Colenso.
He was one of the brightest lights in the district, handsome, dare-devil Tony. There was not a horse he could not ride, and his rivals had brought some pretty tough buckjumpers to test him at different times "fair holy terrors," they called them but Tony sat them, even when girth and crupper had carried away.
Say, he ought to see some the stuff you done for her out on location, like jumpin' into the locomotive engine from your auto and catchin' the brake beams when the train's movin', and goin' across that quarry on the cable, and ridin' down that lumber flume sixty miles per hour and ridin' some them outlaw buckjumpers he'd ought to seen some that stuff, hey, Miss Montague?"
'It was just the same with the Liverpool Buckjumpers, but they were stevedores. Let's see they were a last-century draft, weren't they? They did well after nine months. You know 'em, Van Zyl? You didn't get much change out of 'em at Pootfontein? "'No, says Van Zyl. 'At Pootfontein I lost my son Andries.
To many people in England the mention of Australia conjures pictures of tented gold-fields and tall, black-bearded, red-shirted bushrangers; of mounted police recruited from "flaxen-haired younger sons of good old English families, well-groomed and typically Anglo-Saxon"; of squatters and sheep runs; of buckjumpers ridden by the most daring riders in the world; and of much more to the same purpose; but never is presented a picture of the sea or sailor folk.
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