This is an excerpt from the Book THE MAVERICKS ROUNDUP.

Dairy herd around a water trough.

This story is one of the many instances that served to shape the early life of Bruce Leane. God uses even incidences such as these to mold a life. There is meaning to even the meaningless in our life, I have discovered.


‘What are you doing today, Bruce?’ Linc Parkin called up one day.

‘What do you want done?’ I asked. I needed some ready cash.

‘Bruce, come and give me a hand to load up a bull.  I’ve got to go down to a property at Nangkkita and pick it up.’

When we got there the bull was in the yard, snorting and pawing the ground and charging the rails. The trouble was the truck was 30 – 40 metres away backed up to a heap of dirt with the ramp on the truck lowered so we could load the bull.

‘I’ll have to lasso the bull, ‘Linc said. ‘But I don’t have a long enough rope.’

‘Why don’t you join all the ropes together? They might be long enough then,’ I suggested handing a bundle of ropes to Linc, which he proceeded to join.

‘Blast,’ he swore. ‘They still won’t reach from the yard to the truck.’

These cows are very contents and non-aggressive,
unlike the bull. This is Nangkita Valley where Linc and Bruce had to go for the bull.

Linc looked at me with a gleam in his eye, ‘Bruce, we’ll hitch the rope to the bull and you run the ropes out as far as they will go and when I let the bull out, run like hell for the truck and put a hitch around the rail on the truck then get behind the truck wheel for safety.’

‘That’s not a very good idea,’ I protested. ‘What if – ‘but I didn’t get to finish the sentence because Linc proceeded to undo the gate.

I’ve never found out how fast ‘like hell’ is but I certainly must have exceeded it because when the bull caught sight of me at the end of the rope he charged and I ran. I won!

The bull rammed the back wheel, getting its horn caught in the truck chassis, tearing off the horn.  It didn’t help the bull’s temper one little bit. As for me… I was shaken but safe.

This truck wasn’t used for transporting cattle,
it is too clean. Linc’s truck was similar with
cattle gates on it.

‘Bruce, shorten the damn rope,’ cussed Linc, as I struggled to take up the slack rope.

‘It’s all right for you, standing out there yelling orders,’ I shouted, struggling with the rope. With more puffing and cussing, the bull was in the truck and we returned to Linc’s property.

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