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Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 125, 28 May 1932, Page 1 (Supplement)

• This was his chance to count his is cast the blame for the goods that do horses, and, if one were missing, to shout not arrive, for those that are late and to his leader to halt. Then the search those that are apoilt in transit. Morebegan, back fclong the narrow tracks over, it is the custom to regard Ids job until he found where a beast had strayed ae the easiest and softest on the station. rOne packman I'knew grew very tired of thus providing a butt for all the station wits, but at last he had his revenge. On a certain hill was a set of slip-rails that was a bone of contention on the station; the delay caused by dismounting and taking them down caused many a mob to scatter, and the complaints of the shepherds were loud and bitter. At last the station carpenter agreed to make a gate and satisfy all parties. He took a great deal of trouble over that gate, particularly selecting his timber from the bush and hani-planinjj it all. At last the. masterpiece was finished, and the carpenter, who was the arch-enemy of the packman, decided to show how eimple packing was by doing the job himself. He selected Amy, one of the worst-tem-pered of the team, but a notoriously clever balancer. All went well; Amy carried the gate well ,and truly, and, because it happened to be Sunday afternoon, she was followed by an admiring crowd of station hands, hoping for some entertainment. Nor were they disappointed. Arrived at the appointed spot, the' carpenter halted his horse and, with a fine gesture of contempt, flung aside the despised slip-rails. Unfortunately he had neglected immediately to remove from Amy's back the gate and his own kit of tools, so that, when one of the slip-rails caught the old mare neatly on the nose, and she reared and then careered backwards at an incredible speed, the spreading load felled the audience like ninepins. Amy came to rest eventually on the broad of her back in a stream 20ft below. She was miraculously unhurt, but spread all around her were the remains of that excellent gate and the bent and twisted ruins of the carpenter's tools. As the onlookers picked themselves up sadly and sorely they heard the packman's voice floating raucously down from his point of vantage aboveAs you says,, any fool can manage a pack-horse—l don't 'alf think "

or tripped, [f it were laziness, the remedy was simple; but, if, as was usually the case, the beast had been clumsy or its load had shifted to a dangerous point, then began the tedious and often dangerous work of salvage. The missing horse would be found, perhaps, on its back at the bottom of a bank, unable to rise because of its load; or balancing on a ledge Halfway down a steep Face; or, worst of all, wedged between two trees. Now is the time when the packman's treatment of his beasts count, for, if the horse has learned to trust and not to dread that voice, he will allow himself to be handled, will follow his master's steps, will attempt and often, achieve the impossible. With the unscrupulous driver the problem is easy enough; he simply cuts the straps and leaves the horse to die by inches. An Unfortunate Mistake.

Many are the misdeeds of the "new chum" who is rash enough to undertake a packman's work. I can still remember the unpleasant week we once endured on a station were the new stores for winter were coming in. There was kerosene in everything except the lamps. At last the story leaked through from the cookhouse; the new packman had encountered the usual difficulty in packing kerosene, for the straps invariably slip on the sides of the cases. However, nothing daunted, this bright youth had driven a nail into each side of the box to hold the strap steady. It was not till he got home that he discovered the cases were empty, but, as the cook philosophically said, not much of the kerosene had been really wasted, as the other horses, in brushing past, had picked up a good deal in their bags of oatmeal, flour and sugar. That packman was looking for a job next day.

Another trap for the inexperienced is the packing of barbed wire. I once witnessed a tragedy of this sort. It was a long string of packhorses, and the driver had foolishly put his barbed wire on the last horse, a touchy brute and inclined to bolt. We were jogging along peaceably enough, with a big load of flour, sugar and grass seed ahead, when a pheasant rose with a rattle and a scream from the ferri beside the road. It was enough for the rear horse; up went his head and off went he at a great pace, and right through the mob. His bolt demoralised the rest and a stampede ensued. The damage done in those few crowded minutes was incredible. When at last the frenzied packman halted his team, every bag was ripped and every load was exuding flour, sugar and grass seed, enough to stock a homestead for a month. A Demonstration.

.The packman is usually at daggers drawn with tlie rest of the station' hands. He leads a solitary life, and on his head