The Big Discovery

L.L.Hill

I was about eleven years old when I made a big discovery I thought would bring light and fresh knowledge to the then known world. It did not change my outlook on life though. I'd just learned to ride and was able to stay on a horse at a slow canter.

My Grandfather said to me: "Hop on the old Blue Pony" and bring those cows up from the cultivation to the yard. I've a buyer coming to look at them this afternoon".

I was excited. Here was my Grandfather entrusting me with a small but important job. The cultivation of wheat stubble joined the stockyard. There were only a dozen, docile, manageable cows to bring in. What a breeze!
I drew old Blue up to a stump and hopped on. I don't know why she was referred to as a pony. She was half draught with hairy legs and a back as wide as a double mattress. She was lazy but safe and dependable.

It was very difficult for a short legged boy to straddle her broad, bare back. Grandfather didn't believe in saddles for learners.
The cows were feeding on a bit of green stubble in the far corner of the cultivation. I approached them cautiously, talking quietly as I was taught. I herded them towards the yard. It was then I heard a muffled moan in a hollow by the creek.

I headed old Blue towards the sound. There she was, a cow, having or finding a calf.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I was astonished. What had I discovered by accident?
Up until now, I had always thought, on good authority from my parents and grandparents as well as aunts and uncles that human babies were found under cabbages or on occasions brought by fairies. Cows found their calves under a gum tree or in reeds by the creek. At least there could have been some truth in the reeds bit. But here was irrefutable proof that this was not the case.
I forgot about driving the cows to the yard but urged old Blue at a hard driven canter towards the house. Grandfather had to be told this astonishing news of where calves came from.

"Granfather, Grandfather!" I screamed, "do you know where calves come from?"
"I have a fair idea," he replied, "But don't tell your Mother or Grandmother. I'll get your father to have a yarn to you when he comes home."

In due course, Dad had his little yarn but many questions remained unanswered. I made further enquiries of my own among the older boys of the district and by the time I was nine I considered myself an expert on procreation.

My younger brother received the most benefit from my new knowledge as by the time he was seven I'd taught him all I knew.
It was a great disappointment to me that old Blue never had a foal. I used to look forward in the hope, that one morning she would find a little one in the reeds by the creek. I now know this couldn't happen.
So do dreams fade and die.