The paddock had been without a tenant for some time, but I found it was not unoccupied. A friendly neighbour had introduced his flock of sheep into it, and he was fattening them cheaply. I said, “Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fayi, be good enough to round up your sheep and travel.” Tityrus said that would be all right; he would take them away as soon as they were ready for the butcher. It would be no inconvenience to me, as my horse would not be able to eat all the grass. The idea of paying anything did not occur to him; he was doing me a favour. He was one of the simple natives. As I did not like to take favours from an entire stranger, the sheep and the shepherd sought other pastures beyond the winding Tarra.
The dense tea-tree which bordered the banks of the river was the home of wild hogs, which spent the nights in rooting up the soil and destroying the grass. I therefore armed myself with a gun charged with buckshot, and went to meet the animals by moonlight. I lay in ambush among the tussocks. One shot was enough for each hog; after receiving it he retired hastily into the tea-tree and never came out again.
After I had cleared my land from sheep and pigs, the grass began to grow in abundance; and passing travellers, looking pensively over the fence, were full of pity for me because I had not stock enough to eat the grass. One man had a team of bullocks which he was willing to put in; another had six calves ready to be weaned; and a third friend had a horse which he could spare for a spell. All these were willing to put in their stock, and they would not charge me anything. They were three more of the simple natives.