Call of the North

Oh the western wind is blowing, so there’s rain and storm in store

And the teams have long been going down the road to Glindawor

To where tropic sun is gleaming, and the fragrant winds blow free

I’ve awakened from my dreaming and the North is calling me

CHORUS

Oh! The steam is in the boiler, in the expert’s room below

While upon the board each toiler waits to hear the whistle blow

For the shearing is beginning and my heart is fancy free

And the friction wheels are spinning, so the North is calling me

From the Southward to the Nor’ward where the long brown tracks wind down

All my mates have hastened forward to the wilderness, from town

Gone! By stormy hill and hollow to where I now fain would be

Where they lead I must follow, for the North is calling me

What’s this news I have been hearing? Tidings strange to me indeed

Bidgemia now is shearing with Sawallish in the lead

Straining camel teams are swaying from the junction to the sea

Why so long am I delaying when the North is calling me

And so northward I am going, for I cannot linger here

Now the staring whistle’s blowing and the “guns” are into gear

So to be there I am yearning, I will hail the sheds with glee

For the friction wheels are turning and the North is calling me

Call of The North:  J.Sorenson / R. Rummery

Jack Sorenson was a poet, shearer and a pugilist. He is quoted as saying you had to be prepared to be the latter if you were going to pretend to be the former in and around a shearing shed.  In this song he depicts the start of another shearing season in the Gascoyne Region of Western Australia.