In the stage of the early history of New South Wales, when her increasing herds bid fair to overspread the waste, the dog, his ancient and faithful servant, came to the aid of man. The Scotch collie, friend of the lonely hill-shepherd in North Britain from time immemorial, was unanimously elected to fill the responsible position—not, however, as being the only available canine connected with stock management, for the Smithfield drover\'s dog had also emigrated, that wonderful stump-tailed animal, which managed to keep his master\'s cattle separate at the great London mart, though thousands of beeves be around, unfenced and unyarded. Matchless in his own department, he was gradually superseded by the collie, which came to the front as a better all-round dog, more intelligent, faithful, and companionable; when trained, equally suitable for the \'working\' of sheep or cattle.

The breed, at first pure as imported, became crossed with other varieties of the multiform genus Canis, and so suffered partial deterioration. Still, such was the original potency of the collie proper, that many of the mongrels, even the product of the ovicidal \'dingo,\' were excellent workers, in some instances even superior to their pure-bred comrades. The climate, too, appeared to be favourable to the breed. The Australian offspring of the imported collies were handsome, vigorous animals, with correct \'flag and feather,\' yet reproducing the traits of fidelity and human attachment concerning which so many a tale was told, poem written, and picture painted in the old land. The \'harder\' or fiercer animals were chosen for cattle work, and being bred for the qualities of \'heeling,\' and even doing a mild imitation of bull-baiting on occasions, 467became almost a distinct breed. In the old-fashioned cattle districts, like Monaro and the Abercrombie River, where in early days a sheep was never seen, the cattle dogs—true collies in appearance and extraction—were very different in their manners and customs from their sheep-guiding relatives of the settled districts, whose \'bark was (so much) worse than their bite.\'

It was quite the other way with the cattle dogs. They were encouraged to \'heel\' or bite the fetlocks of the stubborn, half-wild cattle, in a way which bustled them along as crack or cut of stockwhip could never effect. In the case of a breaking beast they would hang on to his tail, and perhaps, when bringing back a wild yearling to the yard, assault tail, heels, nose, and ears impartially, with dire results. They ran their chance of being kicked or horned at this rough-and-tumble game, but from practice became exceeding wary of these and other dangers. A cattle dog has been seen to \'work\' (or help drive) a drove of horses, heeling when desired to do so most impartially, and yet managing to keep clear of the dangerous kicks which the half-wild colts aimed at him. Every man of experience with stock will bear testimony to the admirable service which a good cattle dog will perform. Wearied and low-conditioned droves they will \'move\' in a way which no amount of whip and shouting will effect. On the other hand, where caution and diplomacy are required, their sagacity is astonishing.

I once had occasion, \'in the forties,\' to drive a small lot of fat cattle some days\' journey to a coast town in Western Victoria. They had come to me in a deal, and I wished to turn them into cash. It was a good way from home. The vendors simply \'cut them out\' from the camp, accompanied me to the Run boundary, and gave me their blessing. I had no mate but an ancient cattle dog. It may be surmised by the experienced how many times the home-bred cattle tried to break back. Again and again I thought they would have beaten me. I kept one side, the dog Peter the other, necessarily. Had either rashly caused a separation the game was up. It was beautiful to see the old dog\'s generalship. If a beast diverged on his side, he would walk solemnly out, keep wide and dodge him in with the smallest expenditure of voice or emotion. By this time some of the others would be looking 468back, preparatory to a dash homeward. These he would hustle up promptly, just sufficiently and no more. That I was watchful on my side needs no telling; an occasional tap or whipcrack kept them going. Even fat cattle know when the stockwhip is absent. We—I say it advisedly—yarded them safely that night, when a well-managed hostelry consoled me for the frightful anxiety I had undergone. Next day they travelled more resignedly, and the third night saw them delivered to \'the man of flesh and blood\' in Portland, and, what was better still, paid for.

In the Port Fairy district, then chiefly devoted to cattle, were many famous cattle collies. Old Mr. Teviot at Dunmore had three I remember, their peculiarity being that they understood nothing but Lowland Scotch, in which dialect they had, though Australian by birth, been trained. \'Far yaud\' (as Dandie Dinmont says), and other mysterious commands, wholly unintelligible to us youngsters, they understood and obeyed promptly. But it was amusing to watch the air of surprise or indifference with which they regarded the stock-riders, who sometimes in time of need suggested \'Fetch \'em along, boy!\' or \'Go on outside.\' Like most people to whom dogs are wildly attached, Mr. Teviot was austere of manner towards them, feeding regularly, but permitting no familiarity. How they loved him in consequence! If returning from a trip to the township after dark, they would listen for the footfall of his horse, and long before human ear caught the far, faint sound, would rise up solemnly and walk half a mile or more along the road to greet him. These dogs were popularly credited with being able to do anything but talk, and were renowned throughout the country-side for their obedience and thorough comprehension of their owner\'s wishes.

I once owned a cattle collie of great intelligence, by name Clara, the daughter of a one-eyed female of the species, celebrated for her \'heeling\' propensities. The mother was uncertain as to temper, and was often soundly chastised by her owner for erratic work or short-comings. After a good flogging she jumped up and fawned upon him with the fondest affection, thus verifying the ancient adage. But Clara was a gentle and kindly creature though a good driver, and in all respects strangely intelligent, a handsome black and tan as to colour. 469In yard work she showed out to the greatest advantage. Always keenly observant at such times, and curiously eager to assist—leaving a very young family on one occasion. One day in particular a panel of the stock-yard was broken; there was no time for repairs. But Clara was on guard, and there she stayed, never letting a beast through till the drafting was over.

Poor Clara! she met with an early death. Coming back from a muster, she was forgotten in the hurry and bustle. The weather was hot; the distance greater than usual. It was supposed that she died of thirst, or was killed by the dingoes, for she was never seen alive afterwards.

Peter, a Sydney-side dog, brought down by his owner before 1840 or thereabouts, with some of the early herds, was probably one of the cleverest animals in his way that ever followed a beast. His owner was a Sydney native of the \'flash gully-raking sort,\' from whom probably Peter had received his education in indifferent company. We judged this from the cautious and unobtrusive way in which he went about his work. He was a medium-sized, dark-coloured dog, wiry and active. He was not fond of working for any one but his master, who could make him do all sorts of queer things. When he came into the kitchen and the maidservants chaffed him, he had only to whisper \'Heel \'em, Peter!\' and the next minute the girls would be screaming and scampering, with Peter\'s teeth very close to their ankles. When tired—and they often travelled far and fast—he would come to the horse\'s fore-leg and beg to be taken up. Pulled up to the pommel of the saddle, he would sit upright, quite gravely, leaning against his master until he was sufficiently rested; then, when dropped to earth, he would go to work with amazing vigour. If any par............