I

that we ought to do, and all that we want to do. Every year brings with it an increasing amount of labour, just to keep things going as they are, consequently the time for enlarging the farm b

commencement. But we are by no means really so. We are actually in very good circumstances. Our farm is immensely increased in value, and is now beginning to pay substantially. Another year will see

und, and the mere surface-sowing, our grass will carry four sheep per acre all the year round; some of it more. It is not all fenced in-that would be too much to expect-but most of it is; and what is not gives the milch cows plenty of feed,

s-seed, some stock, and other things were bought on credit, which has since been liquidated. What we have is our own. We have had years of incessant toil, the hardest possible work, wi

races of them, and have once or twice caught one and turned it into mutton. Shearing is a great business, but we are all accomplished hands at it now, and our bales are larger every year as the flock increases. Wo

tten pigs, too, on skim-milk, maize, pumpkins, and peaches grown by ourselves. A score or two are usually to be seen on the clearings round the shanty. We are able butchers and curers; and Old Colonial excels in the manufacture of brawn, sausages, co

though I hesitate to record such a disagreeable matter. He joined our society some years ago, though he is not always with us, gravitating invariably towards all the races, horse and cattle fairs of the country. But he has set up as a horse b

ls morning and evening, fastened up, and given a feed of koraka. All cattle are very fond of the leaves of the koraka-tree, and it is used to entice them with when that is required. Of course, it will be understood that, as there is no cold winter here, we

, and the feed is tree leafage. This suits the cattle, and they fatten well upon it, though not turning out very large beasts. But the pastu

ards, and accustomed to discipline. It is our practice to give every beast a night in the yard at least once in six weeks. And it is also essentially necessary to keep an eye on calving cows, f

ght be supposed, from any relations which his character bore to it. He was intended for the Church at one time; but, perhaps, the Church is to be congratulated in that i

hout swearing; that they understand you so far, and never think you are in earnest till they hear an oath. Whip and dogs and roaring will not do without some good hearty swearing, too. The Saint says so, and he ought to know. He

easts, belonging to neighbours of ours, are to be found running with certain mobs belonging to us, and the reverse is also the case. We have to look after the strange beasts with our own, and our neighbours do the

years of it, being sent off to market at the end of that time. Then a line is drawn through the "Beauty's third," or "Rosebud's fourth," which has designated their individuality in the stoc

ome mob or other. Our bush is much too dense to admit of riding, except along certain narrow tracks, partly natural and partly cut with the axe, which serve as bridle-ro

rea of twenty to thirty miles round our place in which to search for his cattle. He takes some fixed route to start with, making for some distant locality, where experience has taught him such and such a mob are likely to be feeding

inding the mob he wants. We know the bush around us pretty well by this time, about as well, in fact, as a cabman knows the streets of London. It is

s we know, taking great pains with our colleys. The cattle lie very close in the dense thickets of foliage, and hide themselves from sight. One may run slap into a beast before it will move. But the dogs traverse the gullies

himself-that seldom happens to us now-but because of the distance he is from home. So a stockman rarely goes out without three requisites about him-food, matches, and tobacco. Except in wet

some very heavy and exciting work. We call our beasts tame, and so they are in a sense; still, comp

. They will charge and rush in every direction but the right one, and the very devil seems to be in the beasts. Scrambling up steep ranges, dashing down precipitous ravines, and always forcing a passage through dense undergro

ad to foot, his shirt torn to rags, his skin scratched all over, and very likely some nasty bruises from tumbles. He has hardly energy enough left to wash himself. Supper does not revive him, though he stows away an appallingly large one. And then he stretches himself in his bunk and is happy. Only, when morning comes again, he awakes stiff

induces, and the consequent aggravation when beasts are unruly, perhaps you will forgive the Saint for his "exuberant verbosity" in r

of first-rate quality; and as bush-fed beasts are in good condition at the end of the dry season, when pasture-raised cattle are poor, we do as well by them as could be desired. The bush

the cost of fencing it is much higher; and the open-land farmer must wait longer for returns such as will keep him. He has no bush-feed for cattle as we have, and it is cattle that the pioneer relies on for his support at first. It is eight or twelve years before the bush-farmer gets a chance of ploughing; but then his cattle kee

lies through thick bush. There is a faint apology for a bridle-track through the forest, not very easy to find, which strikes the Great North Road about twenty miles from here. And this same Great North Road, in spite of a pretentious ti

ng through the otherwise impenetrable scrub after dogs and cattle, which last will not keep the line. The whole journey takes about a week. We camp down at nig

then the steers have lost condition before they can be got to market. I have had some experience o

nveyed by water. When we have arranged to do so, there is a grand muster of the herd. Mob after mob is

mall paddock, or a stockyard, opens out of the larger one wherein the herd is assembled. The slip-panels between are guarded by four men. Others on horseback, armed with the formidable loud-cra

ell, as they will not separate. Then the driving is renewed from the other side. The cattle get wild and furious, charging and rushing at

. Then the bulk of the herd are turned loose into the bush again. By-and-by, perhaps a day or two later, com

teers in the yard. Then comes a tussle to get that particular beast out of the yard while the others shall be kept in. Often, in spite of the dreaded stockwhips, one of the guardians of the slip-panels gets knocked over, and

ile. By this means he is easily got alongside of her, when once he is off his legs and swimming. Then a sling is passed under his belly, tackle is a

au Harbour, going up to Onehunga to unload. Onehunga is only six miles from Auckland, of which it is practically a par

ly fetch us ten or twelve pounds apiece, after deducting freightage, and our agent's charges for receiving and selling them. This

cattle abound there, possibly in hundreds; and the Maoris make a good thing by hunting them for their hides. There are no settlers' cattle running in the bush there; but where there are,

river. The settlers of Paparoa were hunting them down, and we were warned to look out, for fear the be

great funk about the matter, for if the wild bulls got over to our side it might mean almost ruin for us. So we charged g

it rowed alongside him; but the Fiend, who was in it, adroitly clambered on to the animal's back as it swam, and, with great difficulty, managed to open its throat with his knife. Seven or eight were killed in the water. Even the despised new-chums' pistols were brought into use, and in this emergency they

st people to whom we have at times spoken of it have doubted our veracity. I suppose it will add but little weight to the st

g a large herd, over a thousand head of cattle, and was now going to dispose of the greater number. This was because the feed f

winds up with festivity, feasting, dancing, and the like, such femininities as the district possessed were brought over by their respective husbands or male relatives. While we busied ourselves with the

the cattle had been drafted into yards, had been branded or handled as required, and the work

ig beasts by noosing their legs, and so tripping them up; but this bull was far too wary to let any one get near him, and was wild and vicious, moreover. Several of us had been fruitlessly trying, for an hour or more, to do something with him, and our host was now saying the beast had better

ed to increase. Various plans were discussed, and put in operation, but the bull baffl

from somewhere else. Of course he had gravitated towards the house when he arrived, and had been sunnin

rrival of Master Dandy Jack's; and this feeling, you may be sure, was not lessened by a contemplation of the e

and pipe in mouth, placidly surveying us and the situation. At length, when a pause in the tempe

all hot, dirty, and disagreeable. I also see a stockyard, and within it four quarters of fresh beef, likewi

of a bushman, a Wairoa man, who

at blanked beast," he said, adding with bitter irony, "if it ain't

fe!" responded Dandy Jack urbanely. "Will y

he sauntering figure. But Jack dodged the rush with the nimbleness of a practised picador; and the bull crashed against the fence. Again and again the same performance was repeated, while

rds him right in front. He had apparently grown tired of charging this figure that always eluded him, and was uncertain what to do next. So Dandy Jack walked

h a preparatory sweep, Dandy Jack, whose assumed carelessness re

ll's horns with both hands, we saw him place his foot upon the other. Then came a wrench and a wrestle, all in the space o

nced him. And before he could recover himself and scramble to his feet, w

are he was ridding himself of the dust and dirt that had soiled him when he fell. The Wairoa man was regarding him in blank astonishment. Clearly

'll tell you. It's a thing that some people look at from the s

deed, Dandy Jack was to be excused if he improved the occasion, and

or the plough. Besides, there is a piece of flat, marshy ground below our shanty on the left, and this was only covered originally with flax, swamp-grass, and small shrubs. In the dry season we have burnt this

re are some of the settlers round who have got lands under plough before this; but not to any great extent. To us it seems to

aped sixty and eighty bushels to an acre, in the South Island, and their average is thirty! So Old Colonial tells us. Well, our land is richer than theirs, and our climate is better too, so much cannot be gainsaid. Ergo, we shall h

msoever produces the first fifty tons of beet-root sugar in New Zealand. That is, over and above what the sugar may fetch in the market. We say,

difficulties in the way. You can grow wheat to a certain extent, of course. The North can produce enough for its own consumption,

you got it. If all the farmers in the district were to combine to grow beet-root on every acre they could plough, and nothing else, even then it would hardly pay the sugar-mills, or possibly the farmers either

un! Get out, you mis

about right in what he said, after all, e

plough. We ploughed in those fifty acres, fenced them round, and put in potatoes for a cleaning crop, to thoroughly bre

ough; our beasts were not too easy to manage; and then-but this is unimportant-it was our first essay at ploughing. The furrows are not exactly straigh

is being essentially a fruit country. Of course our spade industry gives us all the vegetables we require, when we lay ourselves out for it. The worst of g

nd pumpkins in profusion, as the pigs are fed on them as well as ourselves. These plants do not want much weeding. They may be grown, too

culture exclusively, and who has a nursery from which he supplies Aucklan

s. But the principal use to which we put them is to fatten our pigs. We have several kinds of peaches, coming on at different seasons. The earliest kind are ripe abou

if freely pruned, will yield enormous crops. To obviate the blight we keep a constant succession of young trees to replace those that are killed. Pears are not subject to the blight, and do well. Grapes are very luxuriant; and, no doubt, this will be a wine-country in the future. Already, some people at Mangawai have made good wine, an

em freely, they increase very rapidly, like everything else here. The worst of it is they will not leave the grapes alone, and if they would the crickets won't, which is a difficulty in the way of vine-growing. But notwithstanding that, some of us are convinced that wine-making is the coming industry of the Kaipara. Then there is the olive, and the mulberry for serici-culture. Both these things are to come. Experiment has

non to success in these things. And for cheap labour we must wait, I suppose, till we are able to marry, and to rear those very extensive fa

hould have been after eight years' work at other avocations in the old country. Putting aside the question of the magnificent health we enjoy-and that is no small thing-we are on the high road to a degree of competence we might never have attained to in England. Not that