There was now a change in the manner and tone of the shed, especially towards the end of the day. It was now the ding of the desperate fray, when the blood of the fierce animal man is up, when mortal blows are exchanged, and curses float upward with the smoke and dust. The ceaseless clicking of the shears--the stern earnestness of the men, toiling with a feverish and tireless energy--the constant succession of sheep shorn and let go, caught and commenced--the occasional savage oath or passionate gesture, as a sheep kicked and struggled with perverse delaying obstinacy--the cuts and stabs, with brief decided tones of Mr Gordon, in repression or command--all told the spectator that tragic action was introduced into the performance. Indeed, one of the minor excitements of shearing was then and there transacted. Mr Gordon had more than once warned a dark sullen-looking man that he did not approve of his style of shearing. He was temporarily absent, and on his return found the same man about to let go a sheep whose appearance, as a shorn wool-bearing quadruped, was painful and discreditable in the extreme. "Let your sheep go, my man," said Gordon, in a tone which somehow arrested the attention of nearly all the shearers, "but don't trouble yourself to catch another!" "Why not?" said the delinquent, sulkily. "You know very well why not!" replied Gordon, walking closely up to him, and looking straight at him with eyes that began to glitter, "you've had fair warning. You've not chosen to take it. Now you can go!" "I suppose you'll pay a man for the sheep he's shorn?" growled out the ruffian. "Not one shilling until after shearing. You can come then if you like," answered Gordon, with perfect distinctness. The cowed bully looked savagely at him; but the tall powerful frame and steady eye were not inviting for personal arbitration of the matter in hand. He put up his two pairs of shears, put on his coat, and walked out of the shed. The time was passed when Red Bill or Terrible Dick (ruffians whom a sparse labour-market rendered necessary evils) would have flung down his shears upon the floor and told the manager that if he didn't like that shearing he could shear his------sheep himself and be hanged to him; or, on refusal of instant payment, would have proposed to bury his shears in the intestines of his employer by way of adjusting the balance between Capital and Labour. Many wild tales are told of woolshed rows. I knew of one squatter stabbed mortally with that fatal and convenient weapon, a shear-blade.