. . . . .
'Twas Saltbush Bill to the station rode ahead of his travelling sheep,
And sent a message to Rooster Hall that wakened him out of his sleep --
A crafty message that fetched him out, and hurried him as he came --
`A drover has an Australian Bird to match with your British Game.'
'Twas done, and done in a half a trice; a five-pound note aside;
Old Rooster Hall, with his champion bird, and the drover's bird untried.
`Steel spurs, of course?' said old Rooster Hall;
`you'll need 'em, without a doubt!'
`You stick the spurs on your bird!' said Bill, `but mine fights best without.'
`Fights best without?' said old Rooster Hall; `he can't fight best unspurred!
You must be crazy!' But Saltbush Bill said, `Wait till you see my bird!'
So Rooster Hall to his fowlyard went, and quickly back he came,
Bearing a clipt and a shaven cock, the pride of his English Game.
With an eye as fierce as an eaglehawk, and a crow like a trumpet call,
He strutted about on the garden walk, and cackled at Rooster Hall.
Then Rooster Hall sent off a boy with word to his cronies two,
McCrae (the boss of the Black Police) and Father Donahoo.
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