of several hundreds of unruly savages, who could and would, if things had come to a rupture, have eaten the whole establishment for breakfast. A system of temporising was the natural result of this state of things. The natives speared a calf belonging to the overseer; they brought the sheep belonging to the neighbouring settlers, and ate them at the protectorate; and on the overseer interfering, threatened to kill him. Many other instances of outrage and insubordination occurred, which had to be passed over. At the time of my first visit to the settlement, in 1842, there were three or four hundred natives encamped there, and the following was the daily routine:[1]—In the morning they were put into a pen, and run out, one by one, as sheep are when they are counted, when each received a mess of a kind of burgoo, or porridge, which he carried away in a hollow piece of bark. In the middle of the day they were all drawn up in a row, squatted on their heels, and a wheelbarrow, full of pieces of beef, was wheeled round, the overseer giving a piece to each in turn. It was amusing to observe the anxiety with which they eyed every piece as it was delivered; each of them, as they received their allowance, squeezing it in his hands, to ascertain whether it contained any bone or no; when it had much of this, or little fat, they freely gave vent to their feelings of rage and disappointment. They all appeared sulky, and had completely the appearance of sturdy beggars receiving a dole. The allowance not being sufficient to
- ↑ I was shown a paddock which had been tilled by the natives, but no work was going on when I was there.
