It Was The First Symptom Of Sheep That I Had Come Upon,
For, To My Surprise, I Saw No Sheep Upon The Plains, Neither Did I See
Any In The Whole Of My Little Excursion.
I am told that this
disappoints most new-comers.
They are told that sheep farming is the
great business of Canterbury, but they see no sheep; the reason of this
is, partly because the runs are not yet a quarter stocked, and partly
because the sheep are in mobs, and, unless one comes across the whole
mob, one sees none of them. The plains, too, are so vast, that at a
very short distance from the track, sheep will not be seen. When I came
up to the dray, I found myself on a track, reached the foot of the
downs, and crossed the little River Cust. A little river, brook or
stream, is always called a creek; nothing but the great rivers are
called rivers. Now clumps of flax, and stunted groves of Ti palms and
other trees, began to break the monotony of the scene. Then the track
ascended the downs on the other side of the stream, and afforded me a
fine view of the valley of the Cust, cleared and burnt by a recent fire,
which extended for miles and miles, purpling the face of the country, up
to the horizon. Rich flax and grass made the valley look promising, but
on the hill the ground was stony and barren, and shabbily clothed with
patches of dry and brown grass, surrounded by a square foot or so of
hard ground; between the tussocks, however, there was a frequent though
scanty undergrowth which might furnish support for sheep, though it
looked burnt up.
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