“Our next objective was called Top Springs. Before reaching it however we came across two huge long-horned bulls. They were immense frightening animals, but very majestic and in their prime. They stood watching us; one on either side of the road. They were not at all afraid of us or of our vehicle. They seemed to be deciding whether to rush at us or let us through. I expected the worst but in the end they did nothing but stare contemptuously at us as we drove between them. In cattle country Les always carried his .44 rifle in front in case of trouble. Fortunately we never had any need of it, but the bulls were genuinely dangerous as we were to learn quite soon.There was only one building at Top Springs; A station homestead with a general store. The owner’s wife, a Mrs Hawke ran it. Her husband was away in Arnhem Land at the time but was due back soon. She did not seem to mind the loneliness, or being the only white woman there. She had a gun and could use it she said. I believed her.
We had seen a huge pile of bones near the river while strolling around and asked her about that. “That’s a rather sad story,” she began. “In times of drought this spring is the only water for miles and we have had to fence it off for our own use in bad times. Usually it overflows into the big pool that you can see outside the fence, but in very dry seasons there is no overflow and the pool dries up. Cattle come from miles away looking for water. When they can’t get it they go crazy with thirst and stand in the mud churning it up. They get themselves hopelessly bogged and try to drink up the wet mud. We have no choice but to shoot them and drag them away so they wont pollute the springs. Those are the bones you saw.”
“Aren’t you afraid with so many wild cattle around?” I asked. “Not really. We always keep a gun handy. Once a bull got into the vegetable garden and scared one of the natives up a tree,” she said. “What did you do?” asked Les. “It had to be shot before the native could come down. It made a complete mess of the garden, and it had to be dragged away. Once a bull got into the shop too,” she smiled. “That was funny.”
“And one season we had a lot of trouble with wild herds desperate for water. They were so troublesome that year that we had to make a barricade around the house and the store. We lined up several old trucks and cars at intervals and tied wire ropes between them. Then we hung bullock bells on the rope. During the day there was little trouble, it was at night the fun began.”“We slept in the trucks with guns and pistols close at hand. When the mobs headed for the water they were mad with thirst. They couldn’t get through without the bells ringing. At the first tinkle the closest person would shoot the leaders. This would be repeated several times until the mob turned tail and left. To be confronted in this way was very threatening, yet I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor animals. It must have been dreadful to be so thirsty.”
Cycling Dutch Girl 
Written by my grandmother 1954
“Our next objective was called Top Springs. Before reaching it however we came across two huge long-horned bulls. They were immense frightening animals, but very majestic and in their prime. They stood watching us; one on either side of the road. They were not at all afraid of us or of our vehicle. They seemed to be deciding whether to rush at us or let us through. I expected the worst but in the end they did nothing but stare contemptuously at us as we drove between them. In cattle country Les always carried his .44 rifle in front in case of trouble. Fortunately we never had any need of it, but the bulls were genuinely dangerous as we were to learn quite soon.There was only one building at Top Springs; A station homestead with a general store. The owner’s wife, a Mrs Hawke ran it. Her husband was away in Arnhem Land at the time but was due back soon. She did not seem to mind the loneliness, or being the only white woman there. She had a gun and could use it she said. I believed her.
We had seen a huge pile of bones near the river while strolling around and asked her about that. “That’s a rather sad story,” she began. “In times of drought this spring is the only water for miles and we have had to fence it off for our own use in bad times. Usually it overflows into the big pool that you can see outside the fence, but in very dry seasons there is no overflow and the pool dries up. Cattle come from miles away looking for water. When they can’t get it they go crazy with thirst and stand in the mud churning it up. They get themselves hopelessly bogged and try to drink up the wet mud. We have no choice but to shoot them and drag them away so they wont pollute the springs. Those are the bones you saw.”
“Aren’t you afraid with so many wild cattle around?” I asked. “Not really. We always keep a gun handy. Once a bull got into the vegetable garden and scared one of the natives up a tree,” she said. “What did you do?” asked Les. “It had to be shot before the native could come down. It made a complete mess of the garden, and it had to be dragged away. Once a bull got into the shop too,” she smiled. “That was funny.”
“And one season we had a lot of trouble with wild herds desperate for water. They were so troublesome that year that we had to make a barricade around the house and the store. We lined up several old trucks and cars at intervals and tied wire ropes between them. Then we hung bullock bells on the rope. During the day there was little trouble, it was at night the fun began.”“We slept in the trucks with guns and pistols close at hand. When the mobs headed for the water they were mad with thirst. They couldn’t get through without the bells ringing. At the first tinkle the closest person would shoot the leaders. This would be repeated several times until the mob turned tail and left. To be confronted in this way was very threatening, yet I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor animals. It must have been dreadful to be so thirsty.”
Life outback is a bit easier now.