l8o THE HORSE: ITS TAMING, 



cheque ; it was an order written on flimsy or soft 

 paper, on the nearest agent of the squatter, an' cashed 

 by the nearest pubHcan, who, of course, never handed 

 over a cent. A man was compelled to stay there and 

 knock his cheque down ' like a man.' Then if the order 

 happen to be drawn on a merchant close by, it was all 

 the same. If it was drawn on somebody in Sydney, 

 how could a poor devil get away to Sydney — perhaps 

 a four or five hundred mile tramp, without a farthing 

 in his pocket? A man was obliged to go to the 

 publican to advance him some money, and once you 

 took a drink (for you couldn't go away without taking 

 a nip) it was all up with you. The liquor was hocussed, 

 and you got mad, and before you knew where you 

 were your cheque was spent — at least so the landlord 

 told you — and he bundled you out neck and crop. If 

 he was at all a decent sort of fellow, he would give you 

 a bottle of rum to recover from your spree, and you 

 returned to the station in a few days penniless. I've 

 no heart to begin to save. I was well-to-do once — 

 had a station of my own ; but what with foot-rot and 

 scab, and not looking after my own place, I soon went 

 to the wall, and I've been getting lower and lower till 

 at last I became a shepherd. It is a lonely life. I 

 never see anyone but the ration carrier once a week, 

 and I've no books to read. I follow the sheep, and 

 camp when they camp. I go to sleep sometimes, and 

 lose the run of the sheep. But I've been pretty well 



