was the commencement of the day's excit- as one of the stockmen feelingly observed, ing duties. Every one had a bridle, by" as bare of grass as the palm of your which he desired to connect himself with a hand;" while another gravely professed his horse. There were about one hundred and belief "that you could hunt a flea across it fifty horses in the yard - blacks, browns, with a stock-whip." bays, grays all colours, values, sizes, ages, from Mr. Hollymount's Mameluke, up to fourteen stone with any hounds in Britain, to Dicky Wilder's Timor pony; from the doctor's venerable chestnut, quiet and sagacious enough almost to pay a medical visit on his own account, to Frank Smash⚫er's black colt, backed the day before yesterday. It is commonly believed that the Australian horse runs up to the colonist, who simply signifies his desire by whistling. This is not precisely true. Those horses which are quiet, generally make some effort at evasion, unless when hobbled or lowered in spirit by travelling. The horses which are young, nervous, or vicious, bolt about the yard in utter disregard to the owner's feelings and his dignity, and are only cornered with the help of numbers and forced to submit. When a great number are mixed together, they excite one another to rebellion, and complicate confusion in every way. Thus this morning we had before our embarrassed view a chaos of heads and tails principally the latter for the first twenty minutes every man trying, like huntingmen at a hand gate, to get out of the scrape himself, regardless of his friends. Cries of "Hang that colt of yours, Jones; he's run over the top of me: you're always riding a colt!" 66 Brown, why on earth did you bring that kicking mare of yours here?" "Wilson, lend us a hand with the filly; she won't take a minute." "Mr. Robinson, may I venture to ask respectfully if you are on friendly terms acquainted with that white-legged chestnut, against whose hindlegs you brushed this moment? That horse, sir, is Mr. Leech's Cannibal; he has killed two men, and for private reasons has just missed the chance of killing a third!" Mr. Robinson goes and sits on the rails to recover himself. At length all the horses are caught, and in much shorter time than might be expected. Anon we are all mounted and away, the younger men and boys "lashing" their horses over the great gum-tree logs, which, offering jumps suited to all comers, lay thinly scattered over the great flat which fringed the river. Between the operation of the heat and the competitive energies of the cattle-herds and the flocks of kangaroo, the vast natural meadow was, Few of the depredators were visible at this hour of the day on the flat, though the night would see it thickly dotted with their dark quaint forms: now they were lying in groups at the bases of the white and red gum-trees of the forest which we were just entering. The well-bred short-horns of the Ballandra herd soon began to meet our eyes in "mobs " or droves, and their manifest low condition drew forth angry comments from the squatters and their retainers. The yard, which was to hold our game, could they be induced to enter it, was a large enclosure of split timber, with saplings and branches placed vertically against the rails, so as to augment the appearance of height and solidity. A kangaroo can jump as high as a deer, so that extraordinary fencing is needed. This, however, was but the strong room, as it were -the final prison, which entered, "left hope behind." Longer enclosures, called "lanes," led in circuitous fashion to this oubliette. Behind these again were the " wings long lines of fencing, gradually closing in towards these lanes, and far apart-indeed, out of sight at their extremities. Captain O'Donnell divided us into companies, and with military decision and brevity gave us our instructions and routes. Our commanding officer, who had put on his parade expression (which he could adopt with great suddenness and completeness whenever it so pleased him, and which transformed the gay, rollicking O'Donnell into a stern, hard-looking man, without a trace of sympathy or humour), made a grand military disposition of the forces. Partly from McDiarmid's direction, and partly from a pretty accurate knowledge of the run, acquired in his numerous shooting excursions over it, he despatched one party after another to all points of the compass. An active young neighbour was told off in command of a party to beat the Ettrick plain. "Cold Morning," a tame aboriginal, of hound-like qualities, led another band to rouse the long-tails out of the " green gully." Every creek, gully, flat, and range had a few well-known bushmen allotted to it, who were accompanied by a proportion of volunteers. The general order was to keep wide and quiet till we got near the wings, and then to rush there and go "like steam." Turning our horses' heads different ways, we soon lost sight of all but our immediate adherents. By this time the sun was not to be denied. It was of a lurid coppercolour, and the air was full of a misty haze, fairly tremulous with the heat. Trees were plentiful, but shade was there none. Yet the horses bounded on, and the men were in high spirits and full of vigour. Our costume was light to a fault. A shirt, trowsers, and boots were the whole equipment of the stockmen and farmers. A silk coat, a puggree, boots, and white cords, adorned the wealthier. A daring swell or two rode in knickerbockers and brown Russian boots, still more delusive as to the temperature. But all honour to the genial Australian climate. Hot it was, yet the heated air was dry and fresh, and lacked the deadly subtlety of the tropics. There you go about (if you happen to be young and foolish, as is generally the case) rejoicing in your strength, and thinking the heat of no particular consequence, when down you go with a sun-stroke, to die before the day is out, or to lie moaning for a month like a wounded jackal. Little recked our band of the noonday sun. Many of the younger men- natives of the country - had nothing on their heads but shallow straw-hats, made of the cabbage-tree encircled by a broad black ribbon. And yet these fellows would go gallopping about all day, or mowing, reaping, cattle-branding, any violent work, with impunity. They would come in at night, after all this to eat beefsteaks, and sleep as soundly as if the keen breeze of let us saya North British spring were bracing nerve and sinew. Through the broad glades of the southern forest we held our way merrily. Now over wide flats like brown billiard-tables; now under giant white-barked weird encalypti: sometimes over piles of lava and scoria, through the clefts of which the grass grew broad and green in the early summer. We scared the wood-duck from the dry lakes, and the turkeys from the burnt grass. Clouds of parroquets flashed around us like clusters of winged emeralds and rubies as onward and onward still we rode, until we had made the circuit of the run and commenced to concentrate the forces of the "finchel." Large flocks of kangaroo had from time to time risen from their noonday camps, and fled before us. As we now began to view our fellow-hunters we had in sight a continuous stream of terrified animals, hurrying to a common centre; the larger males the "old men," as they are calledtowered above the flying bucks, flying does and joeys, the half-grown bucks, does, and young ones. The wallaby, a smaller variety, and bearing the same analogy to its larger confrère, the forester, as the rabbit does to the hare-might be seen scuttling along in the mêlée-joining perforce with the main troop, and sometimes making vain attempts to double back: attempts which generally landed them in the midst of the army of dogs in the rear, where they were instantly snapped up and disappeared. We were now close to the edge of the wings. The spectacle was remarkable. The long line of horsemen, at tolerably equal distances, were closing on the flying host of fur-clad two-legged creatures, hopping and bounding frantically before them. As they approached the eastern wing a larger proportion of the horsemen spread themselves in that direction, keeping behind them, and forming a continuous line with the end of the fence. The western side was left comparatively open, so as to permit that flank of the body of game to extend itself easily. The leading kangaroo, so guided, ran up what appeared to be an unconnected fence. The pace now became better. Up go the leaders, fearing no evil and doubtless hoping for a turn to the right and general escape. Not so. The western wing is now sighted. The opening between the two wings is not more than 500 yards, and rapidly narrows. At a wave from the Captain's hand fifty eager riders spur across, and every five yards from fence to fence is filled by a horseman. If they do not turn and “break now they are lost. The moment has arrived. It is the charge down the hill at Waterloo. It is Marengo when Dessaix comes up. Mac gives the equivalent order to "Up, Guards, and at them!" and taking old Bushranger by the head, races desperately up to their tails. The younger portion of the company had been ready and more than willing for an hour back; and when the glorious signal was given, such a yell was there, As if men fought on earth below, And fiends in upper air! The wild centaurs of lads pricked up their nags, and all but jumped on the backs of the crowded and frantic animals. All who could ride, and all who could not, delivered themselves over to the delirium of the moment. The long heavy whips of the stockmen rose and fell like a forest of flails, while their reports rang like musketry. | lines, and a wall of canvas eight feet high The dogs, sternly repressed up to this moment, barked and worried like demons. The rear of the mass pressed madly on the leading animals, which, with a fence on either side, and all Gehenna "maddening in the rear," had no choice but to go forward. Up the fast closing straight running they flew, with the speed of a dream. Another half-mile is gained, and the vast herd is approaching the fatal enclosure. But the vanguard, whose delicate instinct has been dominated temporarily only, scents the coming evil, and slackening pace falls back on the main body. Tremendous confusion is created. By the concussion, dozens of the younger animals are knocked over by the weight and impetus of the older ones. The whole herd are now mingled in one trampling whirlwind of dust. The front, jammed by the rear, in vain try to charge back. Every one who has had the privilege of attending cattle musters recognizes this as the turning moment of the contest. If the herd "breaks," or turns its flank outward, a thousand horse would not stop them, and the day's work is thrown away. stands between them and the outer world. Now there are great breath-takings, loosenings of girths, and general return to the realms of common sense. Apologies are made to any one who has got in the way, and been sworn at in the hurry of business. Now recommences the reign of chaff among the stock men, too busy for conversation of late, and being, to do them justice, men capable of doing several hours' work in one, when needs must. "Stick to them, my lads," shouts Captain Blake, double-thonging with a huntingwhip like a maniac. "Back up, for dear life," roars old Mac, with his feature glowing with excitement and wrath, as he waves his broad leafed hat, and shies it desperately amid the host. Now that we had got the kangaroo, the next question was, What were we to do with them? The duty of the historian becomes painful. They were all to be killed! Yes, dreadful as it sounds butchered in cold blood. There was nothing else for it. We have our tendernesses like other people, and hate needless cruelty. But the lives of these animals represented an annual loss of a couple of thousands a year, at least; and sheep and cattle, and the welfare of Christian men, women, and children thereon depending, must be preferred to that of brutes, however directly inoffensive. The Mac and his squatter friend, and the stockmen, were thinking more of the despoiled pastures and diminished reputation of Ballandra, than of abstract questions of humanitarianism. So arming themselves with heavy sticks they entered the yard. Then every one else adopted a weapon, and hasted to the slaughter -one or two had got hold of swords; some had heavy-handled huntingwhips - one an Indian hogspear. boys rushed to the prey. Then the slaughter commenced. Every one was rather excited by the chase, so after the first few moments every one went in savagely enough. The kangaroo is easily killed by a blow on the head; if, with an "old man at bay, you have nerve enough to stand still for his rush (for at such a time he charges like a wild bull), and to strike him fair between the ears, he will fall as if shot. So the sticks were the favourite weapons. These exhortations were barely needed by any but the town-bred and inexperienced members of the hunt. Every old hand and every bush-bred lad was going it like an Irish sergeant at a forlorn hope. Their yells and cries were redoubled. The dogs raged with demoniac energy. The trained horses of the stockmen bit and kicked as they turned heads or tails alternately to the foe. None broke the line. The rear was forced bodily on to the front rank, which, confused and overpowered, once more took to the open. After a short dis- Mac led the way, striking down right tance rattled over at fair hunting pace, lo! and left with a great she-oak sapling. The a turn to the right appears leading back to- stockmen, who occasionally had some pracwards the route by which they had entered. tice in killing calves on nearly as large a Down the lane they go like a whirlwind, scale, and in the same fashion, were decid followed by the whole herd; and after pass-edly the most efficient macropicides, though ing down a lane, turning still more in the all the laymen assisted manfully. After all, line of the escape route, debouche into a killing a kangaroo, like many other arts and large enclosure having no outlet whatever. accomplishments, is not so easy as it looks. It is the strong yard. For one moment the He is an agile beast, and if elderly, fierce. whole line of horsemen "blocks" the pas- So when the youthful townsmen essayed sage by which they had entered. Another this cheap form of heroism, they were -and two men simultaneously pull sliding occasionally deceived. But the greater number of the trapped creatures were hud- And did ye kill a' the puir beasties? Weela-weel, it's sair work shedding the bluid o' sae mony o' the Lord's creatures. But ye gentlemen ken a' aboot it, nae doot; it's no for me to judge. Puir Maister McDiarmid's sair fashed and disjeckit like. He just canna sleep at nicht. Nae doot we maun live in the land and multiply, and we canna live for thae landloupin' thieves o' kangaroo. Noo, dinna swim a' the nicht, for the denner's a' but waitin' on ye." In dozens we pitched ourselves off the tall rock, one after the other like schoolboys, into the deep cool river reach, now fast shaddowing over in the long twilight. Who swims not loses a pleasure of the choicest, in all lands where the sun shines strongly. We came up, cooled and freshened to the inmost nerve, and before dinner proceeded to comfort the inner gentleman with deep draughts of the well-cooled and delicate Yering. And the dinner! But let us respect the sacred reserves of that immortal meal. None but men who like us had ridden and toiled, pure from the base compromise of lunch, could have performed such a feat as was then performed. Those of our friends who were new to bush life asked themselves sternly, why they did not so toil and so enjoy, daily, continually? Why, this was life-life to the very finger tips! It was a new revelation! Henceforth they would live in the wilderness, exist on horseback, and be demigods. The night wore on, all violet-blue and silver-starred. Tales were told. Songs were sung. Long we sat and gossipped, The long, long summer day was nearly done and lay about on the lawn's dewless grass, -the tireless sun was lingering to his rest far into the kind cool night. No fears had behind the far blue range in red golden we in our al fresco indulgence. No viewglories-the air was cool as we rode soberly less foe lurked in flower-scented air, or the home to Ballandra, dusty, tired, hungry, low faint sigh of the river-oaks. Why go to and blood-stained. Yet was the feeling not bed, why go at all? Had sleep fairer unpleasant as we let our horses go in the dreams than these? It was Aidënn, would horse-paddock, knowing that a season of it but last, lotus-land; and we worldwell-earned rest and delectation awaited us. worn wayfarers, dreaming on the bank of Happy the man who, when the hour arrives, the lulling water, in a land of changeless doubts not of appetite or the meal that is to summer. satisfy it. So wore the night. The next day saw came up, each man bearing the departure of all save a few friends, who his saddle and bridle, old Mrs. Teviot stayed to keep Mac company. But for greeted us with looks of astonishment and a years after among the chronicles of the west, mountain of towels, foreboding of the cool the memory will be fresh of the jests and swim in the quartz-pebbled river, which was the adventures, the hospitality and good de rigueur after such a day. "Eh! gude-fellowship, of the great Ballandra Kanga As we sake, look at the laddies! Just fearsome! roo drive. From the Saturday Review. PERFECTIBILITY. PROBABLY there are few people of any moderate amount of intelligence who have not occasionally asked themselves whether there is a chance of the world becoming a better and a happier place than it is, and of the race which inhabits it arriving by degrees at something far nearer to perfection. Hitherto, Dr. Cumming and a good many well-disposed persons have answered the question to themselves by saying that the world is not going to last much longer. The Pope, it was thought, would disappear, a certain personage whom it is unnecessary to name would be chained up, the leopard and the lamb were on the point of fraternising, the Zoological Gardens would be turned into a happy tea-garden of temperance and love, and the earth be governed by saints consisting chiefly (we may conjecture) of the Scotch persuasion. And if such a supposition had proved correct, everything must have gone well, and we should have soon entered on an epoch in which nobody could have complained, except perhaps of a slight redundancy of Scotchmen and of tracts. Now that Dr. Cumming has explained himself, and put off to an indefinite period. the promised era of zoological unanimity, we are all of us driven back on the old speculation as to what will become of the world in the long run; for, judging of civilized society from appearances, a man might not unnaturally infer that the universe, far from approaching an abrupt termination, has a considerable portion of its course yet unfulfilled. Old people, as is natural, declare with much confidence that we are all moving from bad to worse. Middle-aged persons incline to the opinion that no great alteration is to be anticipated. It is more difficult, they find to get old port and first-rate Madeira; but, on the other hand, French cooks and French clarets are becoming cheaper and more attainable; so that the progress of the world, upon the whole, balances pretty nearly its retrogression. But the young and the enthusiastic, whose digestion is unimpaired, disdain altogether such miserable considerations, and feel instinctively that young men and women are on the eve of discovering something very new and very wars. vices and human misery, do not seem capable of eradication. People will always be sensual, avaricious, and jealous of one another, while nations will always be wanting what they have not got; and so long as this is the case there will, it is believed, be immorality, and turbulence, and Occasionally there comes a pause and a breathing-time, when, for a short interval, poets and idealists begin to prophesy a golden time coming; but something or other happens to disturb their predictions, and things settle down into the same old imperfect groove. When the first Great Exhibition was still a novelty, most of us can recollect how its pacific and moral effect was marred by the European contests that immediately succeeded it, and how the enthusiasts of the day determined never to put their faith in Great Exhibitions again. The lesson then taught them they have never since forgotten, and they are ready to remind themselves and others of their disappointment whenever they see symptoms of a growing disposition to indulge in extravagant hopes of progress. And yet it may be questioned whether the desponding tone which cynics take about the world is a just or adequate one. One fact that is worth noticing is that pessimism of the kind is far more common in England than it is elsewhere. Upon the Continent and in the New World there is far more faith― to use a somewhat cant expression in the destinies of humanity than there is amongst ourselves. If the majority of English people had as much knowledge of other nations outside as they have of their own affairs, if their views were as extended and as cosmopolitan as they are business-like and shrewd, their opinions on such points would be more reliable. As it is, one cannot help seeing that even educated Englishmen think clearly and well about what lies within their own sphere, but cannot be depended upon to form correct judgments upon the movement or ideas of the great portion of the world that lies, so to speak, beyond their gates. Foreigners do not entertain nearly as strong a conviction that society is going to be stationary; and if this is so, it is possible, to say the least of it, that the phenomena on which they base their conclusions differ from the phenomena presented to the English cynic or to the English sceptic. In intellectual matters, scepticism is perhaps an impregnable and unanswerable, if not a The great argument against expecting very cheerful creed. But practical sceptivast changes in the condition of mankind cism or the belief that nothing can be of rests upon the fact that, whatever else much use to mankind, and that the race to varies, human passions, and therefore human | which we belong is imperfect, and must true. |