"Wu Ling cooks very good things," said Sandy. "But he got very angry when Fergus called him 'pig tail.'"
"That wasn't nice of Fergus," said Jean. "What beautiful thistles and sweet briar, Uncle."
"Not beautiful in our eyes," said her uncle, as they rode by a magnificent clump of sweet briar, the pink blossoms making a lovely spot of colour against the purple of the thistles. "Some patriotic Scot brought the first thistles to Australia, and an English family the roses, and many's the day I have wished they never came. The soil here is so rich that everything grows fast, and the thorny plants have spread all over the land, in some places growing so thick that they have ruined whole tracts of grazing land. They are nearly as bad as the foxes. These were brought to destroy the rabbits which ate up the crops, but Mr. Reynard likes chicken far better than hare, and he has increased so rapidly that it is almost impossible to get rid of him, though rewards are offered for his scalp and in one year over thirty thousand skins were brought in."
"Do they scalp rabbits, too?" asked Jean.
"Trapping rabbits is a regular Australian business," said her uncle. "A good trapper can make £4 a week catching them, and the fur is used to make felt hats."
"There are lots and lots of interesting things in your country," said Jean brightly.
"But shearing time will be the fun," said Sandy.
"Oh, I'd like to see them shear. May I, Uncle?" cried Jean.
"Yes, indeed, you may see anything you like. We'll make a regular station-hand of you before you are done," he laughed.
"I'm only a little jackaroo now," she said. "What is that queer noise? It seemed to come from under those trees."