CURSE OF THE WILD BUSH HORSES
The Byadbo Wilderness isn’t a tourist destination. It’s not pretty. There are no facilities. A few rough fire trails haphazardly follow key ridges, and yet I’m always overjoyed when I come through McGuigans Gap into Kosciuszko National Park’s southeastern corner. It’s like entering another world. Last year things were bad as we arrived at the grasslands of Merambego Creek. This year it’s worse. The grasslands have become bare earth with hints of green. None of the usual mobs of kangaroos and emus. The understorey’s been cropped so hard you can see much further than usual. I had no idea the drought was so bad hereabouts. This is rain-shadow country, so I expect it to be dry, but over the past twenty years I’ve never seen it so dry, so desperately dry. Fires are breaking out in Queensland.
In the early morning, as we set off walking the ancient pathway from Byadbo Gap, we consider the mystery of the wild bush horses. Richard Swain is an Aboriginal man, a river guide who’s been running canoe trips along the Lower Snowy for years. He has a good sense of the country and how the water flows through it. His grasp of the landscape is matched by Franz Peters, naturalist and former park ranger. Last year there were hundreds of horses evident, but now, just shadows. For the first hour or so the country along the track is extremely dry, and there are fewer surprises than usual. The little splashes of colour from yam plants and ground orchids lighten the dryness. In a dry tributary, creekside masses of roundleaf mintbush flower in a joyful purple. Patches climb the hillsides to mingle with lichen-covered, reddish boulders. Below, glimpsing the Byadbo Creek again,
