The Fire Burned On For A Fortnight;
They Knew It Must Burn Till Rain Came, And Mr. Forrest And His Man Never
Left It Day Or Night, All Their Food Being Carried To The Bush.
One night,
during a breeze, it made a sudden rush towards the house.
In a twinkling
they got out the oxen and plough, and, some of the neighbours coming to
their assistance, they ploughed up so much soil between the fire and the
stubble round the house, that it stopped; but not before Mr. Forrest's
straw hat was burnt, and the hair of the oxen singed. Mrs. Forrest
meanwhile, though trembling for her husband's safety, was occupied in
wetting blankets, and carrying them to the roof of the house, for the dry
shingles would have been ignited by a spark. On our return, it was
necessary to climb over some "snake" or zigzag fences about six feet high.
These are fences peculiar to new countries, and though very cheap,
requiring neither tools nor nails, have a peculiarly untidy appearance. It
is not thought wise to buy a farm which has not enough bush or growing
timber for both rails and firewood.
In clearing, of which I saw all the processes, the first is to cut down
the trees, in which difficult operation axes of British manufacture are
rendered useless after a few hours' work. The trees are cut about two feet
above the root, and often bring others down with them in their fall.
Sometimes these trees are split up at the time into rails or firewood;
sometimes dragged to the saw-mills to be made into lumber; but are often
piled into heaps and burnt - a necessary but prodigal waste of wood, to
which I never became reconciled.
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