mbered the Australian story of the rich squatter catching a man
killing one of his sheep. "What are you doing that for?" he inquired as
a preliminary to requesting his company home until the police could be
sent for. The questioned one looked up and answered coolly, though not,
I imagine, without a twinkle in his eye, "Kill it! Why am I killing it?
Look here, my friend, I'll kill any man's sheep as bites _me_." For my
part, I don't think biting would have alarmed me more. After that I made
experiments on the ewes, and always found that the flying bandana simply
frightened them into utter desperation when nothing else would. It was a
long time before they got used to it. I should like to know if any other
sheep-herders ever had the same experience at home or abroad.

In another book I spoke of lambs when they were very young taking my
horse for their mother. This was in California; but in Texas I have
often seen them run after a bullock or steer. One day on the prairie a
lamb had been born during camping-time, and when it was about two hours
old a small band of cattle came down to drink at the spring. Among these
was a very big steer, with horns nearly a yard long, who came close to
the mother, just then engaged in cleaning her offspring. She ran off,
bleating for her lamb to follow. The little chap, however, came to the
conclusion that the steer was calling it, and went tottering up to the
huge animal, that towered above him like the side of a canyon, apparently
much to the latter's embarrassment. The steer eyed it carefully, and
lifted his legs out of the way as the lamb ran against them, even
backing a little, as if as surprised as I had been when the ewes
assaulted me. Then all of a sudden he shook his head as if laughing, put
one horn under the lamb, threw it about six feet over his back, and
calmly walked on. I took it for granted that the unwary lamb was dead,
but on going up I found it only stunned, and, being as yet all gristle,
it soon recovered sufficiently to acknowledge its real mother, who had
witnessed its sudden elevation, stamping with fear and anxiety.

Sheep-herding is supposed, by those who have never followed it, to be an
easy, idle, lazy way of procuring a livelihood; but no man who knows as
much of their ways as I do will think that. It is true that there are
times when there is little or nothing to be done--when a man can sit
under a tree quietly and think of all the world save his own particular