"You may ride Sandy's pony, and he will take Wallace, while I will ride 'The Bruce,'" said Mr. McDonald, and both the children fairly jumped with delight. They rode around the run, the master looking everything over carefully. "Every paddock has its own flock," he explained to Jean. "In one the ewes are kept, in another the wethers, and then there is a paddock for the horses and another for the cows." "How do you get so many animals fed," asked Jean. "They graze on the grass, and those great fields of alfalfa over there are grown to use as food. It has to be irrigated and is quite a little trouble, but it pays in the end. That house is where the manager lives, with his family and the jackaroos." "What is a jackaroo? Some kind of a bird?" asked Jean. Sandy shouted with laughter and his uncle smiled as he answered, "No, child, jackaroo is the name given to the young fellows who are new at the station and just learning Australian customs. All kinds of jokes are played on them by the old hands and they have a hard time at first. A story is told of some Englishmen who had just come out and were going hunting. They hadn't found any game and so they asked some station hands if they had seen any. 'There's a jackaroo down near the water hole,' said the cook, wickedly, so the two men hurried away to shoot the strange animal, and lo! it was a young man like themselves." "What do jackaroos do, Uncle?" asked Jean. "Well, they have to learn to do all the work there is to do at a station, so that some day they may get to be managers or even run stations of their own. They have to ride the boundary every day to see that there are not holes in the fences, and that the water holes are full. Only one man is needed to look after 7,500 sheep, so he is kept pretty busy." "There are so many buildings somebody must have to look after them. Do the jackaroos do that?" asked Jean. "No, all the repair work on the station is given to a set of men who dig water holes, build fences, and do any necessary carpenter work. These draw their groceries, meat, and so forth from the stores, but do not eat at our tables. I don't believe Wu Ling would stand it if he had to cook for them." "Isn't he funny?" said Jean, laughing. "He lets me come in the kitchen and watch him bake brownie, but he won't allow Fergus or Sandy there at all. Do all stations have Chinese cooks?" "Not all, but a great many do. The Chinese are the best cooks we can get. A great many people hate the yellow-skinned Celestials and raise a hue and cry about a 'White Australia,' but I don't know what we of the far stations would do without them." "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."