AN AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD’S LIFE.

Temuka Leader, Issue 1742, 26 May 1888, Page 3

AN AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD’S LIFE.

«I’m a shepherd.,. That? s/so. I’ve been a. shepherd for nigh on twentyfour years, and I’ve earned good wages, too, for all I look, so ragged. I remember, m the good old times, when ■the. shepherds was the bosses. That was at the time of the big rush to the diggings; Money was plentiful then, and we' used, to have some tremendous sprees. Why didn’t I save my money ? There was. never a chance to save/ First of all when we got our wages the cheque wasn’t,a right one; it was an order.written on flimsy or soft paper oh the nearest agent of the squatter, and cawed by the ..nearest publican, .who, oflotirse, never, handed over a! cerit. il.man was compelled to stay there knock his cheque down “ like • a mah.” :Then if the order didn’t happen to be drawn on a merchant dose by it .was all the same. If it was drawn 1 on somebody! in Sydney how could a poor devil get away’to Sydney- I perhaps a 400 or a 600'mile tramp, without-a farthing in his’ pocket. A man was obliged to go ■ to a* publican to advance him some money, and once you took a drink (for. you couldn’t go away without taking a mp)/it was all up with you. The . liquor was hocussed, and you got mad, and before yon knew where you /your cheque was least so |the ' landlord told ,h e bundled you out heck and crop. If he, was at all a deoenVsdrt of a felloe he ,would give you a bottle of rum to fromyour-spree, and you returned to the station'in a few days penniless. Tve no. heart to begin; to save. I was well-to-do a station of my. own; hut what with foofrot and scab;- , »nd not looking after my .own-place, I /soon went to the wall,. and I ve been gettmg lower and lower till at last I ‘ became ar shepherd. It* is ’a lopely, r Jife..'?<l anyone -but' the Orationjnan once arweek, . and, I’ve ho books to‘read. I follow the sheep and camp where they camp. I go; to sleep sometimes and lose the run of the sheep. But I’ve .been pretty well broken into not going to sleep. I’ve beenmade to pay for lost sheep/ so that for three years I hadn’t a cent of wages to take. The native dogs and the blacks worry me. Many a night I watch all night to try and get a slant at the dingoes, I used to lay . baits for. them, hut X had my best dog poisoned through taking one of the baits, so I’ve give it up now, and shoot them when I get a chance. ■ It used to he fine times at night when there was a hut keeper, but now-a-days a .man has got to he his own hut keeper, and; cooking, and washing, and watching at night, and shepherding all day, mending hurdles and shifting them ’ takes up plenty of time. It’s not such an idle life as people suppose. There’s always something to do. The idle part of it is following the sheep out at grass. Lambing time it

, pretty ( :ti?ely[ liw .ever^ "quo; we fee, more people .then and get a bit of news. Would I recognise my sheep in a crowd ? Of course I would, j 1 knoWf- every face, in the flock, and' there isn't two alike. People are apt to think that a sheep is a sheep. So

is a child a child, but no two children are alike. I could swear to every one of ’em. I don’t think I shall shepherd much * longer. I’m getting on in y6&7B> Sixty, closts on* I sun think- , ing. of, saving my wages next year, if the publican will let me, and taking a hit of i land. I could ’layer a home i then,» and only. take _ a job with a travelling mol) sometimes, or else go

to shearing at shearing time, to keep one in tucker. I’d be f obliged for a bit of’baccy. Thd rations ain’t due till to-morrow, and I’m clean run out. Thank’ee, sir.—-Old..Colonials.