“When we were up country on the selection, we had a rooster at our place, named Bill,” said Mitchell; “a big mongrel of no particular breed, though the old lady said he was a ‘brammer’–and many an argument she had with the old man about it too; she was just as stubborn and obstinate in […]

“And then there was Dave Regan,” said the traveller. “Dave used to die oftener than any other bushman I knew. He was always being reported dead and turnin’ up again. He seemed to like it–except once, when his brother drew his money and drank it all to drown his grief at what he called Dave’s […]

“I suppose your wife will be glad to see you,” said Mitchell to his mate in their camp by the dam at Hungerford. They were overhauling their swags, and throwing away the blankets, and calico, and old clothes, and rubbish they didn’t want–everything, in fact, except their pocket-books and letters and portraits, things which men […]

“All the same,” said Mitchell’s mate, continuing an argument by the camp-fire; “all the same, I think that a woman can stand cold water better than a man. Why, when I was staying in a boarding-house in Dunedin, one very cold winter, there was a lady lodger who went down to the shower-bath first thing […]

Dave Regan and party–bush-fencers, tank-sinkers, rough carpenters, &c.–were; finishing the third and last culvert of their contract on the last section of the new railway line, and had already sent in their vouchers for the completed contract, so that there might be no excuse for extra delay in connection with the cheque. Now it had […]

I. The First Born The struggling squatter is to be found in Australia as well as the “struggling farmer”. The Australian squatter is not always the mighty wool king that English and American authors and other uninformed people apparently imagine him to be. Squatting, at the best, is but a game of chance. It depends […]

I’d been humping my back, and crouching and groaning for an hour or so in the darkest corner of the travellers’ hut, tortured by the demon of sandy blight. It was too hot to travel, and there was no one there except ourselves and Mitchell’s cattle pup. We were waiting till after sundown, for I […]

Tall and freckled and sandy, Face of a country lout; That was the picture of Andy– Middleton’s rouseabout. On Middleton’s wide dominions Plied the stock-whip and shears; Hadn’t any opinions—— And he hadn’t any “ideers”–at least, he said so himself–except as regarded anything that looked to him like what he called “funny business”, under which […]

On the diggings up to twenty odd years ago–and as far back as I can remember–on Lambing Flat, the Pipe Clays, Gulgong, Home Rule, and so through the roaring list; in bark huts, tents, public-houses, sly grog shanties, and–well, the most glorious voice of all belonged to a bad girl. We were only children and […]

Now this is the creed from the Book of the Bush– Should be simple and plain to a dunce: “If a man’s in a hole you must pass round the hat Were he jail-bird or gentleman once.” “Is it any harm to wake yer?” It was about nine o’clock in the morning, and, though it […]

Now I often sit at Watty’s, when the night is very near, With a head that’s full of jingles–and the fumes of bottled beer; For I always have a fancy that, if I am over there When the Army prays for Watty, I’m included in the prayer. It would take a lot of praying, lots […]

They hold him true, who’s true to one, However false he be. -The Rouseabout of Rouseabouts. The Imperial Hotel was rather an unfortunate name for an out-back town pub, for out back is the stronghold of Australian democracy; it was the out-back vote and influence that brought about “One Man One Vote,” “Payment of Members,” […]

They judge not and they are not judged–’tis their philosophy– (There’s something wrong with every ship that sails upon the sea). -The Ballad of the Rouseabout. “And what became of One-eyed Bogan?” I asked Tom Hall when I met him and Jack Mitchell down in Sydney with their shearing cheques the Christmas before last. “You’d […]

Sheep stations in Australia are any distance from twenty to a hundred miles apart, to keep well within the boundaries of truth and the great pastoral country. Shearing at any one shed only lasts a few weeks in the year; the number of men employed is according to the size of the shed–from three to […]

Bill and Jim, professional shearers, were coming into Bourke from the Queensland side. They were horsemen and had two packhorses. At the last camp before Bourke Jim’s packhorse got disgusted and home-sick during the night and started back for the place where he was foaled. Jim was little more than a new-chum jackaroo; he was […]

. . . For thirst is long and throats is short Among the sons o’ men. M. J. C. I Wish I was spifflicated before I ever seen a pub! You see, it’s this way. Suppose a cove comes along on a blazin’ hot day in the drought–an’ you ought to know how hell-hot it […]

Mitchell and I rolled up our swags after New Year and started to tramp west. It had been a very bad season after a long drought. Old Baldy Thompson had only shorn a few bales of grass-seed and burrs, so he said, and thought of taking the track himself; but we hoped to get on […]

Hunqerford Road, February. One hundred and thirty miles of heavy reddish sand, bordered by dry, hot scrubs. Dense cloud of hot dust. Four wool-teams passing through a gate in a “rabbit proof” fence which crosses the road. Clock, clock, clock of wheels and rattle and clink of chains, crack of whips and explosions of Australian […]

“A dipsomaniac,” said Mitchell, “needs sympathy and commonsense treatment. (Sympathy’s a grand and glorious thing, taking it all round and looking at it any way you will: a little of it makes a man think that the world’s a good world after all, and there’s room and hope for sinners, and that life’s worth living; […]

It was Mitchell’s habit to take an evening off now and then from yarning or reflecting, and proceed, in a most methodical manner, to wash his spare shirts and patch his pants. I was in the habit of contributing to some Sydney papers, and every man is an editor at heart, so, at other times, […]