From Squire to Squatter Part 40

One day a grand gift arrived from England, being nothing less than a couple of splendid Scotch collies and a pair of Skye terriers. They had borne the journey wonderfully well, and set about taking stock, and settling themselves in their new home, at once.

Archie's pet kangaroo was an object of great curiosity to the Skyes at first. On the very second day of their arrival Bobie and Roup, as they were called, marched up to the kangaroo, and thus addressed him:

"We have both come to the conclusion that you are something that shouldn't be."

"Indeed!" said the kangaroo.

"Yes; so we're going to let the sawdust out of you."

"Take that then to begin with!" said Mr Kangaroo; and one of the dogs was kicked clean and clear over a fern bush.

They drew off after that with their tails well down. They thought they had made a mistake somehow. A rabbit that could kick like a young colt was best left to his own devices.

The collies never attempted to attack the kangaroo; but when they saw the droll creature hopping solemnly after Archie, one looked at the other, and both seemed to laugh inwardly.

The collies were placed under the charge of Craig to be broken to use, for both were young, and the Skyes became the vermin-killers. They worked in couple, and kept down the rats far more effectually than ever the cats had done. They used to put dingoes to the rout whenever or wherever they saw them; and as sometimes both these game little animals would return of a morning severely bitten about the face and ears, it was evident enough they had gone in for sharp service during the night.

One curious thing about the Skyes was, that they killed snakes, and always came dragging home with the loathsome things. This was very clever and very plucky; nevertheless, a tame laughing jacka.s.s that Harry had in a huge cage was to them a pet aversion. Perhaps the bird knew that; for as soon as he saw them he used to give vent to a series of wild, defiant "ha-ha-ha's" and "hee-hee-hee's" that would have laid a ghost.

The improvements on that portion of Burley New Farm more immediately adjoining the steading had gone merrily on, and in a year or two, after fencing and clearing the land, a rough style of agriculture was commenced. The ploughs were not very first-cla.s.s, and the horses were oxen--if I may make an Irish bull. They did the work slowly but well.

They had a notion that every now and then they ought to be allowed to go to sleep for five minutes. However, they were easily roused, and just went on again in a dreamy kind of way.

The land did not require much coaxing to send up crops of splendid wheat. It was a new-born joy to Bob and Archie to ride along their paddocks, and see the wind waving over the growing grain, making the whole field look like an inland sea.

"What would your father say to a sight like that?" said Bob one morning while the two were on their rounds.

"He would start subsoiling ploughs and improve it."

"I don't know about the improvement, Archie, but I've no doubt he would try. But new land needs little improving."

"Maybe no; but mind you, Bob, father is precious clever, though I don't hold with all his ways. He'd have steam-ploughs here, and steam-harrows too. He'd cut down the grain to the roots by steam-machines, or he'd have steam-strippers."

"But you don't think we should go any faster?"

"Bob, I must confess I like to take big jumps myself. I take after my father in some things, but after my Scottish ancestors in others. For instance, I like to know what lies at the other side of the hedge before I put my horse at it."

The first crops of wheat that were taken off the lands of Burley New Farm were gathered without much straw. It seemed a waste to burn the latter; but the distance from the railway, and still more from a market-town, made its destruction a necessity.

Nor was it altogether destruction either; for the ashes served as a fertiliser for future crops.

As things got more settled down, and years flew by, the system of working the whole station was greatly improved. Bob and Harry had become quite the home-farmers and agriculturists, while the cattle partially, and the sheep almost wholly, became the care of Archie, with Gentleman Craig as his first officer.

Craig certainly had a long head on his broad shoulders. He did not hesitate from the first to give his opinions as to the management of the station. One thing he a.s.sured the three friends of: namely, that the sheep must be sent farther north and west if they were to do well.

"They want higher and dryer ground," he said; "but you may try them here."

I think at this time neither Bob nor Archie knew there was anything more deadly to be dreaded than foot-rot, which the constant attention of the shepherds, and a due allowance of blue-stone, served out from Harry's stores, kept well under.

They gained other and sadder experience before very long, however.

At first all went as merrily as marriage bells. The first sheep-shearing was a never-to-be-forgotten event in the life of our Bushmen.

The season was October--a spring month in Australia--and the fleeces were in fine form, albeit some were rather full of gra.s.s seed. They were mostly open, however, and everyone augured a good clip.

Sarah was very busy indoors superintending everything; for there was extra cooking to be done now. Wee Diana, who had developed into quite a Bush child, though a pretty one, toddled about here, there, and everywhere; the only wonder is--as an Irishman might say--that she did not get killed three or four times a day. Diana had long since abjured gum-rings and rattles, and taken to hoops and whips. One of the collie dogs, and the pet kangaroo, were her constant companions. As previously stated, both collies had been sent to Craig to be trained; but as Bounce had a difference of opinion with one of the shepherds, he concluded he would make a change by the way of bettering himself, so he had taken French leave and come home to the steading. He would have been sent off again, sure enough, if he had not--collie-like--enlisted Sarah herself on his behalf. This he had done by lying down beside little Diana on the kitchen floor. The two kissed each other and fell asleep. Bounce's position was a.s.sured after that.

Findlayson, who did not mean to commence operations among his own fleeces for another month, paid a visit to Burley, and brought with him a few spare hands. Harry had plenty to do both out of doors and in his stores; for many men were now about the place, and they must all eat and smoke.

"As sure as a gun," said Findlayson the first morning, "that Joukie-daidles o' yours 'ill get killed."

He said this just after about three hundred sheep had rushed the child, and run over her. It was the fault of the kangaroo on one hand, and the collie, Bounce, on the other. Findlayson had picked her off the ground, out of a cloud of dust, very dirty, but smiling.

"What is to be done with her?" said Bob, scratching his head.

"Fauld her," said Findlayson.

"What does that mean?"

Findlayson showed him what "faulding" meant. He speedily put up a little enclosure on an eminence, from which Diana could see all without the possibility of escaping. So every day she, with her dog and the pet kangaroo, to say nothing of a barrow-load of toys, including a huge Noah's ark, found herself happy and out of harm's way. Diana could be seen at times leaning over the hurdle, and waving a hand exultingly in the air, and it was presumed she was loudly cheering the men's performance; but as to hearing anything, that seemed utterly out of the question, with the baa-ing and maa-ing of the sheep.

When the work was in full blast it certainly was a strange sight, and quite colonial. Archie had been at sheep-shearings before at home among the Cheviot Hills, but nothing to compare to this.

There was, first and foremost, the sheep to be brought up in batches or flocks from the distant stations, men and dogs also having plenty to do to keep them together, then the enclosing them near the washing-ground.

The dam in which the washing took place was luckily well filled, for rain had fallen not long before. Sheep-washing is hard work, as anyone will testify who has tried his hand at it for even half a day. Sheep are sometimes exceedingly stupid, more particularly, I think, about a time like this. The whole business is objected to, and they appear imbued with the idea that you mean to drown them, and put every obstacle in your way a stubborn nature can invent.

The sheep, after being well scrubbed, were allowed a day to get dry and soft and nice. Then came the clipping. Gentleman Craig was stationed at a platform to count the fleeces and see them ready for pressing, and Archie's work was cut out in seeing that the fellows at the clipping did their duty properly.

It was a busy, steaming time, on the whole, for everybody, but merry enough nevertheless. There was "lashins" of eating and drinking.

Findlayson himself took charge of the grog, which was mostly rum, only he had a small store of mountain dew for his own special consumption.

Harry was quite the Whitechapel tradesman all over, though you could not have told whether the grocer or butcher most predominated in his appearance.

The clipping went on with marvellous speed, a rivalry existing between the hands apparently; but as they were paid by the number of fleeces, there was evident desire on the part of several to sacrifice perfection to rapidity.

When it was all over there was still a deal to be done in clearing up and getting the whole station resettled, one part of the resettling, and the chief too, being the re-establishing of the sheep on their pasturage after marking them.

The wool was pressed into bales, and loaded on huge bullock-waggons, which are in appearance something between an ordinary country wood-cart and a brewer's dray. The road to the distant station was indeed a rough one, and at the slow rate travelled by the bullock teams the journey would occupy days.

Craig himself was going with the last lot of these, and Archie had started early and ridden on all alone to see to business in Brisbane.

He had only been twice at the town in the course of three years, so it is no wonder that now he was impressed with the notion that the well-dressed city folks must stare at him, to see if he had any hay-seed in his hair.

Winslow was coming round by boat, and Etheldene as well; she had been at home for some time on a holiday.

Why was it, I wonder, that Archie paid a visit to several outfitters'

shops in Brisbane, and made so many purchases? He really was well enough dressed when he entered the town; at all events, he had looked a smart young farmer all over. But when he left his bedroom on the morning of Winslow's arrival, he had considerably more of the English Squire than the Australian Squatter about his _tout ensemble_. But he really looked a handsome, happy, careless young fellow, and that bit of a sprouting moustache showed off his good looks to perfection. He could not help feeling it sometimes as he sat reading a paper in the hotel hall, and waiting for his friends, and was fool enough to wonder if Etheldene would think him improved in appearance.

But Archie was neither "masher" nor dandy at heart. He was simply a young man, and I would not value any young man who did not take pains with his personal appearance, even at the risk of being thought proud.