This is the reality of a shearer life in the out back.
It chanced one day, when the north wind blew
in his face like a furnace-breath,
He left the track for a tank he knew - 'twas a short-cut to his death;
For the bed of the tank was hard and dry, and crossed with many a crack,
And, oh! it's a terrible thing to die of thirst in the scrub Out Back
This stanza nice..........
Hardships of farmer and the drought of land when storm comes are wiped out mercilessly indeed though like a dog he works all day in the farm! This aspect makes this poem most absorbing and touching by the experienced pen of Henry Lawson!