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bullock was killed for beef. Three-quarters of the carcase was salted, and a good cut of fresh beef cooked. We thought we were in for a treat, but were sadly disappointed. We did not at all relish it, and, after a plucky attempt or two to overcome our repugnance, we left our portion on our plates, and made up leeway in the next course. That bullock was half-eaten before we could tolerate beef. We much preferred our wild pork.
In the following year, 1847, a mob of about 300 sheep passed through Pigeon Bay en route from Akaroa to Purau for Mr. Geo. Rhodes. My father bought one for mutton. Again my brother and I thought there was a great treat in store for us. We disliked it more even than the beef, to which we were, by this time, somewhat reconciled, and we left our portion untouched after the first tentative mouthful.
When about six or seven years old part of my duty was to feed up to as many as thirty calves twice a day for two months. At that age they were weaned and turned out. When my brother Tom was old enough he assisted me in this work; and so acute did our powers of observation become, and so stimulated was our memory by this close
