62 Australian Life 



a strange sight for city streets: the wild-eyed bul- 

 locks, terrified by their novel surroundings, rush- 

 ing down the empty thoroughfares, with the 

 dusty stockmen on their patient horses, watchful 

 as ever, riding behind. A few days later, the 

 same stockmen, brown-faced and steadfast of gaze, 

 may be seen in the city theatres and restaurants, 

 or out on the race-course. But a week or two of 

 the city is quite enough for them, and they return 

 to the Western plains with the newest songs stored 

 in their memories to cheer the long hours of vigil 

 round the camp-fires. 



Along the stock routes, too, may be encountered 

 large flocks of placid sheep, slowly but surely 

 making their way across the continent. Each 

 day sees the men in charge of them only a few 

 miles nearer their destination, and on arriving at 

 an area of good country, after travelling where 

 pasture is scanty, the sheep have to be spelled for 

 some days to recover their lost condition. A 

 whole year may elapse during one of these long 

 journeys, for the drover's route sometimes leads 

 from one edge of the continent to the other. 

 Fewer men are required for droving sheep than 

 for cattle, and the sagacious sheep-dogs save the 

 anxiety of watchfulness, which is part of the cat- 

 tleman's life. The drover usually rides on horse- 

 back behind his flock of sheep, although, of late 

 years, cycling drovers may occasionally be en- 

 countered. There are other wayfarers in these 

 Australian solitudes. A cloud of dust marks the 



