It sounded like a good deal. I would help with the drenching and marking of the sheep on my daughter’s farm. In return, her brother-in-law, Blake, would help me contain my two teenage grandsons on a three-day rabbit hunting trip. The deal was in my favour because I was well aware what the proposed hunting trip, with two fourteen-year-olds, would hold.
IT was mid-July so I wasn’t expecting to take a large number of rabbits, but it was a great time to be camping on my mate’s property in southern NSW. The paddocks were green, the grass was short and the nights were cold, which in turn was great for a campfire.
The trip up proved uneventful, except that I couldn’t fail to notice that there was an awful lot of water lying about and the ducks! They were there in their hundreds.
As we took the last turn before arriving at the property, we encountered our first emus.
“Do you see
