Of course, it is an understood thing that England cannot turn out an axe. If you want an axe that is really good for anything, you must go to America for it. Here, in the bush, all our tools come from the land of the Stars and Stripes. Why it should be so ask English cutlers. English tools and cutlery of all sorts cannot find a sale here; for bitter experience has taught us what inferior and unreliable goods they are. American things never fail us. We do not buy them because they are cheaper, but because they are better. They are exactly what we want, and of sterling quality.
Now, Sheffield can turn out the best hardware in the world, no one can deny that. Then, why do we not get some of it out here? Some settlers, who have furnished themselves in Sheffield itself, can show tools of finer make than the American ones. But all the cutlery that we see anything of in the stores, if it be English, is thoroughly worthless. Why will English traders continue to suppose that any rubbish is good enough for the colonies? We are afraid to buy English implements and tools out here; and every experienced colonist prefers to trust America. Our patriotism is humiliated, but we cannot afford to be cheated. Surely, trade interests must suffer in the long run, by the pertinacity with which English traders send inferior goods to the colonies.
In felling bush, or "falling" it, as we say here, advantage is taken of the lay of the land. To make the burn which is to follow a good one, the stuff must all lie in the same direction. The tops of the felled trees should point downhill as much as possible. The trees are gashed at about three feet from the ground. This saves the bushman's back, obviating the necessity of his stooping, and, moreover, allows him to get through more work. Also, in after years, when the stumps are rotten, they are more easily pulled out of the ground. By a simple disposition of the direction in which the gashes are cut, the bushman is able to bring down his tree to whichever side he wishes. A bill-hook, or slasher, supplements the axe, for the purpose of clearing all the undergrowth. Nothing is left standing above waist-height.
The usual time for bush-falling is the dry season, that is to say, from August till March, in which last month the burn is usually accomplished. By that time the fallen stuff has been pretty well dried in the summer sun, and will burn clean. Fires are started along the bottoms on days when the wind is favourable. Some experience is needful to ensure a good burn. Should the burn be a bad one, after work is much increased, and wages consequently spoilt.
After the burn comes the logging, that is, the collection into heaps of such débris as lies about unburnt, and the final burning of these heaps. During April and May the rains begin; and then grass seed is sown broadcast over the charred expanse. It soon sprouts up, and in a couple of months there will begin to be some pasturage. Before next season a good strong turf ought to have formed among the stumps. Every farmer has his own particular ideas as to the kinds of seed to use. We used a mixture of poa pratensis, timothy, and Dutch clover, and have abundant reason to be satisfied with the result.
When bush-falling is performed by hired labour, it usually goes by contract. The bushman agrees to fall, fire, and log a specified tract, at a fixed price per acre. Such bush as ours would go at thirty shillings to three pounds an acre, according to the size of the trees on the average. A bushman reckons to earn five shillings a day, taking one day with another, so he ought to knock down an acre of stuff in from five to ten days. Thirty or forty acres represent one man's work for the season.
A good deal of judgment is required in making these contracts. Where there is a great deal of supple-jack, or tawhera scrub, the work may get on as slowly as if the trees were comparatively large. And there is a good deal of luck in the burn, for if it be a bad one there may be weeks of logging afterwards. Sometimes, at the end of the season, a bushman may find that his contract has not paid him much more than the worth of his tucker during the time; or, on the other hand, he may find he has made ten shillings a day clear out.
New-chums often find a job of bush-falling is the first thing they can get hold of, and a bitter apprenticeship it is. Their aching backs and blistered hands convey a very real notion of what hard work and manual labour means. And this goes wearily on day after day, while, very likely, they find they are not earning a shilling a day, do all they may. The ordinary English agricultural labourer, transplanted here, does not seem to do better at this work at the start than the "young gentleman." His class take a lot of teaching, and anything new appears to be a tremendous difficulty to them. Moreover, they have to learn the meaning of an Antipodean ganger's frequent cry, "Double up, there! Double up!" And they do not like to work so hard that every now and then a stop must be made to wring out the dripping shirt. Worst of all, there is seldom any beer in the bush!
After we had got some grass clearings, the next thing to do was to fence them in. A very necessary thing that; first, to keep the sheep in—and, second, to keep the wild pigs out. Two most important reasons, besides other lesser ones.
Fencing of many kinds has been tried in the colony, the question of relative cost under different circumstances mainly influencing settlers in their choice. I need only mention four varieties as being general in the North. They are post-and-rail, wire, wattle, and stake.