CATTLE AND SHEEP RAISING IN QUEENSLAND.—GRASS THAT KILLS SHEEP.—PROFITS OF RAISING CATTLE.—RELATIVE ADVANTAGES OF THE TWO ENTERPRISES.—INCREASE OF FLOCKS AND HERDS.—STATISTICS.—LIVE-STOCK IN QUEENSLAND.—VISITING A SHEEP-STATION.—DUTIES OF A GOOD SHEPHERD.—INSANE TENDENCIES OF SHEPHERDS.—MONOTONY OF THEIR LIVES.—DISAGREEABLE WORK FOR NOVICES.—SHEEP-SHEARING, AND HOW IT IS PERFORMED.—PACKING AND SHIPPING WOOL.—AMUSING STORY OF A STOLEN HORSE.—THE MINER WHO HID HIS GOLD IN A HORSE-COLLAR.—BUSH-RANGERS AND THEIR PERFORMANCES.—"STICKING UP."—"OLIVER, THE TERROR OF THE NORTH."—HELD BY A WOODEN LEG.—TRICK OF A DISHONEST GENIUS.—PEARL-FISHING IN AUSTRALIAN WATERS: HOW THE BUSINESS IS CONDUCTED.—ALLIGATORS.—THE "CARDWELL PET."—SUNDOWNERS.

In their search for knowledge Frank and Fred made many inquiries relative to the profits of cattle-raising in Australia, and the chances of making a fortune at it in a given number of years. Here is a summary of what they ascertained:

The part of Queensland bordering the coast is not suited for sheep, owing to a peculiar grass which grows there. It has a seed with a barb at the end, and this barb enables it to work its way into any soft substance; the wool of the sheep becomes so full of this seed that it is absolutely worthless, and after a time the seeds work their way into the flesh of the unfortunate animal until they kill him. A man riding or walking in this grass when it is ripe gets his clothing full of the seed, and is very apt to lose his temper, from the continual pricking of the sharp points. Sheep cannot live in this region, but the seeds do not affect cattle, which thrive on the grass. In the interior the obnoxious grass does not exist, and consequently it may be roundly stated that all parts of Queensland are suitable for grazing cattle, but only the interior is adapted to sheep.

Cattle-raising is less profitable than raising sheep, but it does not require as much capital, and is less risky. A cattle-run may be made to pay from the start, while a sheep-station requires a heavy outlay before any returns can be received.

Mr. Watson said that five thousand cattle could be put on an unimproved run for about one hundred thousand dollars; the necessary buildings, yards, weaning-paddock, horse-paddock, and other enclosures would cost three thousand dollars, while two thousand dollars would pay all the wages of employÉs, and for the food and equipment of everybody attached to the place, for a year. For the first five years only fat cattle should be sold, and these would be enough to pay working expenses, in addition to improvements in the way of boundary and other fences.

At the end of five years there would be ten thousand cattle on the run, and after making liberal allowances for expenses from that time, the annual increase would be two thousand five hundred, of which fully eight hundred would be fat cattle. The sale of the increase would return from twenty-eight to thirty thousand dollars annually; and after deducting liberally for working expenses, the yearly profit could be put down at twenty thousand dollars. Meantime the run has doubled in value, and the investment is paying handsomely.

This is the bright side of the picture. The dark side contains epidemics of pleuro-pneumonia, which has been the ruin of squatters on more than one occasion; added to this is the danger of a severe drought, in which thousands of cattle die of thirst and the inability to get food in consequence of the drying up of the grass. In some years millions of cattle and sheep have perished in this way, and hundreds of owners were ruined.

"Compared with sheep-raising," said Mr. Watson, "the cattle business will return a high interest on the capital invested if properly managed and fairly successful, but does not afford the rapid road to wealth that many have travelled by a few successful years with sheep. Cattle require few men to manage them, and entail no great expense before they are sold and the money is obtained for them. A cattle-station has rarely an occasion to ask the banks for loans, while the sheep-raiser constantly requires money to pay for shepherds, shearers, and other laborers, and is under heavy expense for the carriage of his wool to the seaports.

"It is safe to say," he continued, "that the palmy days of sheep and cattle raising are gone forever. There is very little country suitable for grazing purposes that is not already taken up, and the holders want high prices for their titles and improvements. Formerly a man could go into the interior, find a good location for a run, enter it for lease, and then obtain a partner with the capital necessary for stocking it with a few thousand sheep. With half a dozen good seasons they would make their fortunes, partly from the sale of wool and the increase of stock, and partly from the rise in the value of the lease; but at the same time they might be ruined by two bad seasons of drought, disease among the sheep, or by the low price of wool."

Frank asked what was the nature of the droughts of which Mr. Watson had spoken.

"In a general way, they are like droughts anywhere else," was the reply; "but they have some features peculiar to Australia. In 1883 and 1884 we had two successive years of drought, a thing never known before. Very little rain fell in all that time, and in some localities not a drop; the grass withered, water-holes, springs, and creeks that for years had been unfailing sources of supply dried up, and the whole country was desolate. There were single areas hundreds of miles in extent where not a drop of natural water could be found, and the sheep and cattle perished in great numbers. Experience has shown that every part of Australia capable of producing sheep is subject to occasional periods of unusual drought, and nobody can foretell them. There is only one way of guarding against their effects."

"What is that?"

"Build reservoirs, and store water in sufficient quantities to last through the severest droughts. Of course this will cost money, but it will be a profitable investment in the long run. Many squatters are now doing this, and they are also putting down driven wells after the system invented in America about 1860. It is probable that the next long-continued drought will not cause the death of so many sheep as did that of 1883 and 1884. The loss of sheep in Queensland in those two years was nearly three millions."

Fred asked how many sheep, cattle, and horses there were in the colony.

"According to the official figures," Mr. Watson replied, "we had at the last reports (December, 1885), 260,207 horses, 4,162,652 cattle, and 8,994,322 sheep. Compare these figures with those of 1844, when we had 660 horses, 13,295 cattle, and 184,651 sheep. We had more than 12,000,000 sheep in Queensland at the end of 1882, and will doubtless reach that number again with a single prosperous season. Sheep increase more rapidly than cattle, as you are doubtless aware, provided the flocks do not suffer from distemper, drought, severe storms, or other drawbacks. According to the official figures, we have 75,000,000 sheep in Australia, or more than twice as many as you have in the United States."

At the end of the visit to the cattle-station Doctor Bronson and the youths returned to the railway, and proceeded to a sheep-station in which their polite and hospitable entertainer was interested. We have already described sheep-farming in New Zealand, and as the business is[Pg 387]
[Pg 388] much the same in Australia, the visit was not altogether full of novelty.

But our friends ascertained that one important difference between sheep-farming in the two countries was in the matter of snow-storms. We have seen how the New Zealand flocks suffer from heavy falls of snow; in Queensland there is no such hinderance, the sheep remaining out-of-doors the entire year, and needing no protection other than the yards into which they are driven at night or when wanted for shearing or selection.

An Australian sheep-station consists of two yards built of logs, brush-wood, or small saplings. Each yard must be large enough to contain fifteen hundred sheep; and there is a small hut for two men to sleep in at night. These stations are scattered over the run at distances of two or three miles from one another, and there is a head, or central, station, where the squatter or his manager lives, and whence the supplies for the men are sent out. According to the size of the run and the number of sheep upon it will the stations be multiplied. The run our friends were visiting had twelve stations altogether, the nearest being one mile from the head station, and the farthest fourteen miles.

In reply to his inquiry as to the duties of a shepherd, Frank learned the following, which he carefully noted:

"A good shepherd will let his flock out of the yard soon after sunrise and before the heat is uncomfortable, and allow them to spread out as far as can be done with safety. With the aid of his dogs he heads them towards water, and allows them to feed so as to reach the drinking-place about noon; then he turns them around and feeds them slowly back again, so as to get to the yards just at sunset. This is the routine day after day, with slight variations when the sheep are mustered for selection, which is not very often. Sunday is the same as any other day on a sheep-station, as the animals must be pastured exactly as on week-days, and there is no relay of shepherds."

"It must be a terribly monotonous life," Frank remarked.

"It is indeed," was the reply. "The two men at a station are separated[Pg 389]
[Pg 390] during the day, as they feed their flocks in different directions, and at night they are too tired to do much talking, and very often are not on speaking terms. They become moody and taciturn; and it is a sad fact that three-fourths of the occupants of insane asylums in Australia are shepherds.

"Every shepherd should go armed, as he never knows when he may be attacked by the blacks. Many a poor fellow has been speared by the aboriginals; they watch for months until they see him without his gun, and then rush upon and spear him. Many of the shepherds seem indifferent to life; and it is not to be wondered at, as they are cut off from society, have no friends or friendships, and no encouraging prospects for the future. I have often wondered how it was possible for us to procure shepherds, when the future has so few inducements for them; but somehow we always manage to find enough of them. Many men come here with bright hopes, but they soon tire of the work; if they have money enough to get away, they generally do so at the end of a few months.

"The new chums that engage as shepherds are always put at the most disagreeable work, that of looking after diseased sheep, if there are any on the station. If you want to see what it is, read Mr. Eden's book, 'My Wife and I in Queensland,' and learn what he went through when he came to the colony. He engaged as a shepherd, and was assigned[Pg 391]
[Pg 392] to look after sheep affected with the foot-rot. Every morning each animal had to be caught, its hoofs pared, and a dressing applied of a peculiar ointment that burned a hole in the operator's clothing if any fell upon it. He and another man had seven hundred sheep to look after, and each animal had to be lifted bodily over a fence, and held down by main force during the operation. When this was completed the flock had to be fed; and if any sheep died while they were out in pasture the men brought in the skins, or the value of the animals was deducted from their wages. No wonder he left the place at the end of two months, and walked back to Brisbane."

Fred remarked that they must have a very busy time of it at the sheep-stations during the shearing season.

"It is the busiest time of the year," said Mr. Watson, "and one that taxes all our abilities. The sheep are driven to the wool-shed, which is a large quadrangular building, varying in size according to the capabilities of the station and the extent of its working force. Walk out with me and look at ours, which is accounted a good one."

The boys were interested in the building, and especially so as Mr. Watson explained its peculiarities and uses.

"You observe," said he, "that there is a bulkhead running across the middle of the building, dividing it into two parts, one of which is intended for sheep, and when full holds about five hundred. This smaller enclosure opens out from the larger one, and is always kept full, so that a shearer can lay his hands on a sheep at once without the necessity of chasing it. This plank floor on each side of the small enclosure is for the shearers, and there is a small door abreast of where each man stands. He lets his sheep out of that door after they have been sheared; and there is a small yard outside each door, where they remain, so that they can be counted by the manager, and thus all disputes avoided.

"The shearer drags a sheep from the pen, and places it between his knees with its head uppermost; he always stands when at work, and for a novice it is very wearying till he gets used to it. He shears from the throat downward, leaving the back to the last, when the fleece falls off in one piece."

"Do the men ever cut the sheep while shearing?" Fred asked.

"Yes, very often," was the response; "and some men 'tomahawk' a great deal worse than others, and never seem to improve. When this happens the shearer does not stop an instant; he calls out 'tar!' and the man or boy whose duty it is to gather up the fleeces rushes to the spot with a tar-bucket and brush, and covers the wound with tar to keep away the flies. The sheep do not struggle, no matter how badly they are hurt, and are literally 'dumb before the shearers.'"

"How many sheep can a good operator shear in a day?"

"The number varies according to skill and experience," said Mr. Watson. "The men are paid an agreed price per score—usually five shillings, or four sheep for a shilling. I have known men who could shear sixscore, or one hundred and twenty sheep, in a day, but under ordinary circumstances it takes a good shearer to do fourscore. In addition to their pay, the squatter must feed them; in rainy weather all work ceases, as the wool cannot be packed when wet."

"Where do the shearers come from?"

"That's a hard question to answer. They follow other occupations except at shearing-time, when they form themselves into gangs and travel about the country; they are usually well mounted, and generally a gang carries its own cook, and is very particular about its way of living. The squatters find it to their advantage to feed the shearers liberally, and I have known one who hired a fiddler to play all day in the shed, to keep the men in good-humor. Most of these fellows are gamblers, and generally by the end of their season a few skilful players among them have all the money earned by the entire gang.

"After the wool is sheared it is packed into bales and pressed hard by means of machinery almost identical with a cotton-press. In this condition it is sent to the coast, and shipped to England or whatever market is open for it. High prices for wool make good profits for the squatters, and low prices the reverse, just as is the case in business generally. Many squatters have their entire crop of wool mortgaged to the bankers who have made advances upon it; in this respect sheep-stations are more desirable than cattle-stations, as money can always be had in advance upon the crop of wool."

Some of the large establishments have adopted improved methods of washing sheep; our friends had an opportunity to inspect one of them; during the inspection Frank made a drawing of the washing apparatus, to which he appended the following description:

"A represents a twenty-horse-power engine working a sixteen-inch pump, B, which raises water from the river alongside, discharging about three thousand gallons per minute into spouting tank, C (half of which is cut off in the drawing to show the work behind). The tank is of iron, four feet deep, furnished with a spout four feet six inches deep, terminating in a narrow opening three feet long and three-sixteenths or one-quarter inch wide, the width being regulated by screws.

"Through this aperture the water, under the pressure of eight feet six inches, rushes with great force. Eee is an iron tub in which the 'spouter' stands while holding the sheep under the spout. F is an inclined plane, up which the sheep walk after emerging from the water, passing on to large batten yards, one hundred and fifty feet by one hundred feet, where they remain till partially dry. These yards are not shown in the drawing. G is another ten-horse-power engine, used for cutting firewood at the circular-saw bench, h, and to furnish steam to heat water in the soaking tank, i, and the ten square tanks, k, ranged along either side of the soaking tank.

"To each of these tanks is fitted a branch steam-pipe, m, communicating with the main steam-pipe, nn, leading from the boilers of both engines, A and G, so that both are available for heating water, of which a very large quantity, varying from seven thousand to ten thousand gallons, is required for a single day's work. Ooo are water pipes leading from the spouting tank, C, to supply the square tanks, k, the soap-tubs, P and Q, and spare-water tub, R. The soap-tubs are also fitted with steam-pipes, for the purpose of boiling their contents. S is a donkey-engine placed over a well, from whence, driven by a continuation of steam-pipes from both boilers, it draws water for showering through a flexible hose the dirty sheep in the receiving yard, t, for transmission through the pipe n of water to drinking-troughs for the washed sheep in the batten yards, filling up the pump by branch pipes, which is often necessary, and for various other purposes.

"The receiving yards having been filled with sheep, the water in, and the tanks brought up to the required temperature by means of the steam-pipes, and the soaking-tank charged with the prescribed proportion of dissolved soap, etc., the pump is set to work to fill the spouting tank and reservoirs underneath into which the spouts discharge. The portcullis gate, W, is then lifted, and from eight to ten sheep are sent down the inclined[Pg 395]
[Pg 396] shoot, X, into the soaking-tank, when they are manipulated by men on either side, and allowed to swim for four or five minutes. Hence they pass on to the rinsing stage, Y; again down a short incline to the stage, Z; from thence, lastly, they are handed to the spouters. By these they are rolled and turned under the knife-like jet of water for two minutes, when they swim out to the inclined landing-stage as white as snow.

"When the water in the soaking-tank becomes overcharged with dirt, by a simple arrangement it can be emptied and refilled with clean hot water from the square tank, in which a constant supply is kept up, in eight or ten minutes. From twelve hundred to two thousand sheep are washed daily."

Frank and Fred learned many other things about sheep-farming in Australia, but they made no further notes on the subject, and therefore we will drop it. At any rate, they did not conclude to go into the business when they learned of its hazards and discomforts, and ascertained from the newspapers that the price of wool was at that time quite low.

Frank made a memorandum of a good story that he heard during the evening, while they sat in front of the fire in the sitting-room of the head station. It was told by the manager of the place, and was as follows:

"When I first came to Australia," said the manager, "I was employed on a cattle-station in Victoria; while I was there gold was discovered about ten miles away from us. The rush to the mines caused a demand for our cattle, and the owner did a fine business in supplying the miners with beef; but, on the other hand, there was a great deal of stealing, so that he was obliged to hire more men than usual. The favorite objects of the thieves were our saddle-horses, and every few days a horse would be missing from the paddock, and the chances of his recovery were doubtful.

"But we had one horse that was a treasure. He was perfectly docile in harness, and would stand quietly while being saddled, but anybody who mounted him was thrown at once. He was kept as a carriage-horse, and was a favorite of the manager, and was so docile that he could be caught at any time with a handful of oats.

"Once or twice a month he would be missed from the paddock. In a day or two he reappeared, and almost always with a saddle and somebody's 'swag,' or baggage, strapped to it. Once he came back with a new saddle and a swag containing, among other things, thirty ounces of gold-dust, and nobody ever appeared to claim it. Another time he brought in twenty ounces and three gold watches. Altogether, in the course of a year, he was stolen about twenty times, and must have brought home two or three thousand dollars' worth of gold-dust, to say nothing of the saddles. He kept the place supplied with saddles all the time I was there."

"A very profitable horse," remarked Doctor Bronson. "I suppose the owner was not willing to sell him?"

"Not by any means," was the reply. "He used to say that he had only to 'set' that horse in the paddock as he would any other trap, and the thieves walked in at once."

"That reminds me of a Melbourne horse story," said one of the listeners. Being pressed to give it, he did so.

"In the days of the gold rush in 1851," said he, "there were two men in Melbourne who made a fortune in horse-trading. They had two or three horses trained for their business, and when a party was fitting out for the mines, one of these horses would be offered for sale. Of course the would-be purchasers wanted to try the animal first, and the dealer would point to a steep hill on Bourke Street, and suggest that the horse be tried with a load up that hill.

"The animal was attached to a loaded dray, and straightway pulled it to the top of the hill without hesitation or pause. Of course that settled the question of his usefulness, and he would be sold at a good price; but when attached to a load and started for the mines, he balked and refused to pull at all. Silent partners of the dealer were watching on the road, with other horses for sale, and they soon made a trade in which the balky beast was thrown in for almost nothing.

"The fact was, the trick-horses were fed at the top of the hill, and only after they had drawn up a heavy load. Sometimes the same horse was sold two or three times in one day; and it was afterwards said that a single horse had been disposed of for fifty pounds and bought in for five pounds at least a hundred times."

"I can't tell a horse story," said another of the party, "but I've one that comes close to it, and that's a horse-collar story."

Of course everybody wanted to hear it, and he complied with the general wish.

"You all know that soon after the discovery of gold in Victoria the country was infested with bush-rangers, or highwaymen, who made it very unsafe to travel with gold-dust or other valuable property. A man was liable to hear the order to 'bail up!' at any moment, and find a gun or pistol levelled at him. Unless he obeyed with alacrity and threw his hands in the air, he was in great danger of having a bullet through him. Very often it happened that an armed man would be taken unawares, and though he had a rifle in his hand or a pistol at his belt, there was no chance to make use of the weapon. Sometimes two or three bush-rangers would 'stick up' a stage-coach; while one watched the passengers, ranged along the road-side, and kept them within range of a revolver, and perhaps two revolvers, another searched them and took possession of their valuables.

"Gold was sent down from the mines under a Government escort to protect it from the bush-rangers, and of course a heavy charge was made for the service. Various devices were adopted to foil the rascals by those who undertook to transport their own treasure.

"Men concealed their gold in their clothing or about their wagons, and one smart fellow put nearly a hundred ounces inside a horse-collar, which was worn by the single horse drawing a dray containing a few bundles of clothing and other insignificant things.

"He got along all right for the first two days, and on the third began to feel entirely safe. While he was jogging along the road he was overtaken by a man who said the police were after him on account of a fight with a drunken fellow at a way-side inn. He said his horse was much jaded, and he would give the stranger ten sovereigns to exchange.

"The bargain was quickly made, as the animals appeared to be of about equal value. The miner unfastened his horse from the dray, and began to unharness it. As he did so the stranger, quick as a flash, seized the collar, threw it around the neck of his own steed, sprung on its back, where the saddle still remained, and was off like the wind.

"'That's all I wanted, mate,' said he, as he rode away. He had somehow learned the miner's scheme for carrying his gold, and played this elaborate game to rob him."

"Speaking of bush-rangers," said another, "did you ever hear of Oliver, 'the Terror of the North?'"

Some had heard of him and others had not, so the story was called for.

"There was once a bush-ranger of that name in the north of Queensland," said the narrator, "and he had been 'sticking up' people in the country back of Robinson. He had a wooden leg, but in spite of this defect he was a bold robber and a very slippery one to hold. He got away from the police several times after they had fairly caught him; and catching him was no small matter.

"One time when he'd been at his tricks, the police got him and brought him to Robinson. The jail there was in a very bad condition, and the police magistrate was at a loss how to keep Oliver, until a happy thought struck him. What do you suppose it was?"

Nobody could guess, and the story-teller continued:

"Well, he locked Oliver up in the jail, but took his leg to his own house, and locked that in a trunk. Oliver stayed that time, and didn't even try to break jail."

"We were speaking of horses just now," said one of the party, "and that reminds me of a clever trick which was played on a rich squatter by a man in his employ. He had sent the man on an errand, and mounted him on a valuable white horse. It was at the rainy season of the year, and all the creeks were flooded. On the bank of a creek which he had to cross the man spied a white horse lying dead at the water's side.

"A brilliant idea occurred to him, an inspiration of rascally genius. He dismounted, skinned the dead horse, concealed the skin in the bushes, and rode away, and sold the animal he was riding for a good price. Then he returned to where he had concealed the skin; and after soaking his saddle and bridle in the river for an hour, he went back to the station, carrying saddle, bridle, and skin, and covered from head to foot with mud. There he told how in attempting to cross a creek the horse was overcome by the waters, and had just strength to reach the bank, where he died. As for himself, he had a narrow escape with his life; and to prove the truth of his story, he had brought home the skin of the once valuable beast.

"The squatter believed the story, blamed himself for sending the man on such a dangerous mission, and gave him ten sovereigns as a reward for his fidelity and compensation for his wetting. The man left the place soon afterwards for another part of the colony; months later the squatter saw his horse advertised for sale, and on inquiry found how he had been imposed upon."

From anecdotes about horses and bush-rangers the conversation turned upon the pearl-fishery on the northern coast of Queensland.

"It is quite an extensive industry," said Mr. Watson, "and employs a considerable number of men. The exports of pearl-shell from Queensland for the year 1885 were 13,189 hundred-weight, valued at £87,110, or $400,000; and in some years the product has exceeded that amount. Other parts of Australia produce pearl-shell and pearls, and altogether the fishery is a very important one."

Doctor Bronson asked if it was profitable.

"Very much so," was the reply. "At one time pearl-shell was worth £250 a ton; the pearls were reckoned to pay the cost of the work, so that the money obtained for the shell was clear profit. Even when shell fell to half that price the profits were heavy; and certainly they ought to be, to induce a man to endure the privations of the work.

"The best pearls are from the west coast of Australia; they are not equal to Oriental pearls in color, but they are very large, and are eagerly sought. One was sold in London for £1500, or $7500; and frequently single pearls bring as high as $2000.

"I stopped a short time at Somerset, which is the most northerly town in Australia, and entirely devoted to the pearl-fishery. The men living there are a rough lot, wearing very little superfluous clothing, and quite careless about appearances. They go out with sloops and schooners, and send down divers in just the same way that pearl-diving is carried on in Ceylon and the Persian Gulf. Their divers are all black men, and in fact many of them come from the Persian Gulf, being attracted to Australia by the higher wages paid there. The shells are shaped like oyster-shells, and are from twelve to fifteen inches across. The lining of the shell, technically known as nacre, or mother-of-pearl, is the article sought; but the oyster is carefully examined to see that no pearls are missed."

"Didn't I read not long ago about the drowning of many fishers on the coast of West Australia?" said one of the youths.

"Quite probably," was the reply, "and you are liable to hear of such a calamity at any time. The West Australian fisheries are subject to terrific hurricanes. The signs of these hurricanes are well known, and every fishing-boat has ample time to reach a place of safety; but the fishers are too reckless to take any precautions, and every few months a lot of their boats are sent to the bottom or driven high and dry on the shore. The few that escape death on such occasions immediately get new boats, and start off on another expedition as if such a thing as a hurricane had never been heard of.

"Alligators abound in all the rivers of the northern part of Australia; they grow to a great size and are dangerous, and not a year passes that we do not hear of somebody being killed by them while taking a swim or attempting to cross a swollen stream. They are great nuisances at cattle and sheep stations located on the rivers where they abound, as they make a clean sweep of calves, dogs, sheep, and other small animals while drinking, and have been known to attack full-grown bullocks."

"Did you ever know an adult alligator to be treated as a pet?" said the man who had told the horse-collar story, addressing his query to Mr. Watson.

Mr. Watson shook his head, whereupon the story-teller said he had known such a case. The saurian was not only an individual but a public pet.

Frank and Fred were curious to learn about it. Their curiosity was gratified as follows:

"Years ago," said the man, "I was at the town of Cardwell, in North Queensland. It is on a pretty bay, which is full of fish and oysters, and was then the home of a monster alligator which was known as the 'Cardwell Pet.' Every morning something resembling a huge log was seen floating under the trees near the shore; it was not a log, but the back of the pet, and he was on the lookout for a stray dog coming down to the water.

"He ate up most of the dogs in town soon after he appeared, and whenever a new dog happened along with a stranger he usually became a bonne bouche for the pet. But there were two dogs in Cardwell that knew his ways; when ordered to do so, they would go down on the beach, where they barked and played with each other, apparently heedless of the alligator, but all the time keeping out of range of his jaws. In this way he was often enticed out upon the sand, the dogs seeming to enjoy the fun. He became the lion of the place, and was always the first sight shown to strangers. When the town was first established, shots were fired at him; but as soon as his importance as a curiosity became known, he enjoyed immunity, and at the time I was there any one who ventured to harm him would have been roughly handled by the inhabitants, as he was literally the pet of the town."

Frank asked the narrator if he knew how large the Cardwell Pet was.

"I do not," was the reply, "and circumstances did not permit accurate measurement. I have seen many alligators in Queensland that exceeded nineteen feet in length, several that were more than twenty, and there was one taken on the Fitzroy and called Big Ben that measured twenty-three feet six inches. When I last heard of him he was owned by Jamrach, in London. I think the Cardwell Pet was quite equal to Big Ben, and possibly larger; you know it is always the largest fish that is not weighed or measured. Anyway, the pet was said to have made a meal of a sundowner, though I don't believe he really did, as that class of game is too cautious."

Fred asked what a sundowner was. He had heard the term several times, but thus far it had not been explained to him.

"He is the equivalent of the American 'tramp,'" said Mr. Watson, "and abounds freely in Australia. He is fed and lodged at the stations, where he is careful to arrive at sundown or a little later, and hence his name. If he gets there before sunset he is requested to move on to the next stopping-place, or else he is asked to make himself useful at some kind of work during the remaining hours or minutes of the day. He abhors work, and therefore times his arrival to avoid it. Sometimes a group of these fellows will rest by the way-side a mile or so from a station, waiting for the sun to disappear.

"Many a vagabond makes an easy living by wandering from one station to another, pretending that he wants employment but carefully avoiding it. The sundowner is as insolent as the American tramp; by Australian custom he is welcome to supper, lodging, and breakfast, the food consisting of tea, sugar, bread, and beef or mutton, and the lodging being in his own blankets on the floor of the men's hut or the wool-shed. I have had a dozen or more of these 'travellers' on a single night, and my monthly average is not less than one hundred and twenty. Sometimes a party of them has been so unruly and so threatening in their demands that I have been compelled to send for the local police to carry them away.

"On one occasion," the gentleman continued, "a ruffianly traveller drew a knife and threatened to stab my cook, because the latter refused to give him a mutton-pie that had been prepared for the men, the travellers' table being filled with cold beef as the only viand. I had him handcuffed and taken to the police-station, where he was recognized as a man who was 'wanted' for a robbery somewhere up country.

"As a general thing, the squatters hesitate to quarrel with the sundowners, preferring to suffer their impositions rather than run the risk of having their buildings and fences burned, and other depredations committed. Of late years the number of vagrants seems to have diminished, but the supply is yet far in excess of the country's needs."

Note.—Since this book was put in type the laboring classes in Australia have united in a popular agitation against the Mongolians, and have compelled the leading governments to adopt stringent measures. The poll-tax on these immigrants has been increased in New South Wales from fifty dollars to five hundred dollars; their naturalization has been prohibited altogether; rigid restrictions are imposed as to residence and trading; and vessels are allowed to land only one Chinaman for every three hundred tons. Chinese merchants are allowed to trade in certain districts of the provinces, but the number for each district is limited to five. These restrictions were authorized by a government bill which was passed by the Colonial Assembly without a dissenting voice. The resident Chinese have been attacked by mobs at Brisbane, and immigrants and cargoes have not been permitted to land at Sydney and Melbourne. The Colonial authorities of Queensland and Victoria favor a policy of complete exclusion, and in New Zealand the Premier has publicly announced his conversion to the same views.

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