"Wiltshire, sir," answered Joseph.
"You understand sheep?" said Mr Ramsay.
"Been accustomed to them all my life," said Joseph.
"How many do you think you could shear in a day?" asked the master.
"May be three score," answered Rudge, looking with an eye somewhat of
contempt at the small breed of sheep he saw before him. "At a pinch,
I'd say fourscore, sir; but I don't think a man could do more than that
properly, from what I know, and from what I've heard."
"You'll do, my man," said Mr Ramsay, looking well pleased, "make my
interest yours, and yours shall be mine. Mr Thompson, my agent at
Melbourne, tells me that he has engaged you and your family for fifty
pounds a year, and all found. Your eldest lads will soon learn how to
make themselves useful, and so will that lassie there, while your wife
will keep your hut when you are out with the sheep. You will stay here
for a few weeks to learn our ways, and then I will send you up in charge
of an out-station. To-morrow you will begin work, for we have plenty
for you to do."
"Thank ye, sir; I'll do my best to serve you, and so will my wife and
children," answered Joseph, in a hearty voice which showed that he
purposed to do what he said.
Joseph and his family were at once placed in possession of a vacant hut.
It was a rough-looking place, but served well for that fine climate.
The frame was of wood, with slab walls, and was roofed with sheets of
bark from a tree called the "stringy-bark tree." It was divided into
two parts. The bedsteads were rough frames with hides stretched on
them, but there were good beds and pillows stuffed with short wool, of
which no one could complain. A table, and some stools and benches, with
a cupboard and plenty of shelves and hooks was all the furniture they
found in the hut. Joseph and Sam went off to the storekeeper, to get
their rations, and came back with a fine supply of everything they
wanted.
That evening, as Joseph Rudge and his family sat round the table at
supper, he thanked God heartily for having brought them into a good
country, and placed them in the hands of a kind and just master. This
was the character Dick Boyce and his mate had given of Mr Ramsay, as
they travelled up with the dray from Melbourne.
The next day, Joseph set to work with his shears, with Sam to help him.
He did not shear so many sheep as the contract shearers, but he sheared
well, leaving none of the bottom wool, and his employer was perfectly
satisfied. He got through two score the first day; two and a half the
next; and three the next. He observed one man who sheared no less than
six score in one day, but Joseph on his way home to dinner observed that
much of the bottom wool--the most valuable in a fleece--remained on the
sheeps' backs. He told Tom Wells what he had seen, and Tom told Boyce,
and soon afterwards Mr Ramsay went to the pens in which the sheep were
placed, and sent for the fast shearer, John Butt. John was very angry,
but Mr Ramsay was firm, and refused to fulfil his part of the contract
unless he sheared the sheep properly.
"I'll pay the fellow off who brought the matter before the master's
eyes," growled John Butt. "It's that new chum; I saw him looking at the
sheep. What business has he to come and interfere with our ways?"
Joseph Rudge had thus made an enemy though he did not know it. Even had
he known what would happen, he would have done the same, for he was one
of those who follow the golden rule, "Do right, whatever you think may
come of it, and leave that to be settled by God."
The first thing done with the fleece, when off the sheep's back, was to
clean it on the folding table, which was a framework through which the
dirt fell. After that it was put into the press and packed tightly into
large bales fit for sending on board the ship which was to carry it to
England. As soon as all the wool was done up into bales, it was packed
on the drays to be sent off to the port to be shipped. Each dray
carried about twenty bales, and was drawn by ten stout oxen. The drays
were low, like those of brewers, had no sides, but upright pins to keep
in the bales, those at the corners being of iron. The bales were
secured by ropes, with a tarpaulin to be thrown over them in case of
wet. Dick Boyce and Tom Wells had to set off again at once. Sam wanted
very much to go with them. He had a fancy for the life they led, as
many a boy would have, but his father could not spare him. They
travelled about fifteen miles each day, and carried everything they
wanted on the road. At night, tarpaulins were let down at the sides and
ends of the dray. This formed as much shelter as they required when
sleeping. The bullocks were turned loose to pick up their food; and
while Boyce went to bring them in, Wells lighted the fire, cooked their
breakfast, and made the dray ready for starting. From stations far up
the country, drays are two months and more on the journey to the sea.
The chief drawback to this life is, that people long accustomed to it do
not take readily to any other, and this made Joseph not wish that Sam
should follow it.