CONFESSIONS OF AN IMMIGRANT.

Press, Volume LXV, Issue 19724, 14 September 1929, Page 15

CONFESSIONS OF AN IMMIGRANT.

[Br "CANTAB."] This is the th rd of six srtu-ics speciimLigmnt who i. also a W"\ °' Cambridge. The first tvo "r 10 '" **? anpoarcd or. .a? t*o i-"- b cays.

111. Though w« had bee" a»ked to write to the Immigration Department occasionally informing it how vo vere progressing—some of these letters, I believe, being sent to England—and though we were guaranteed a job for six months on arrival, as far as I could seo the Government's interest went no further.

When I left the back-blocks I saw the manager of the stock company, to whom we were first entrusted. He was tho soul of courtesy: but from the general drift of his conversation I drew a feeling of deep disappointment in tho immediate opportunities, and, indeed, in those of the remoter future. Perhaps I had unconsciously compared New Zealand with California in the "roaring forties." But, from what I gathered noiv, prospects were no.bettor on the land than at Home, and for small capitalists definitely worse: "A great many men were just struggling along—l did not have enough money to take up a sheep run—the pig market was very unstable—etc., etc." Ho talked as if the height of my ambition in this land was to become a regularly paid, efficient worker on the land; and he desired that I should enjoy the "privileges of a new country." He also intimated that I had not yet had sufficient experience, which was undoubtedly true, but the prospects were not encouraging.

My actual market value was not very high. I had had a certain amount of experience as a trapper; but it was impossible to obtain a block for trapping. The demand for blocks was far in excess of the supply, and new chums would hardly oe the first selected. I have heard that at one time many townspeople went trapping, including' bank clerks. With varying success, the back country people said, though the New Zealander townsman has more of the "rus in urbe" than townspeople in the large cities of Europe, who hardly know the difference between a spade and a shovel! I could not sheat-. One has little opportunity of learning to shear on a sheep-run, paradoxical as this sounds; for a beginner can do some financial damage (he may leave five shillings' worth of wool on each sheep) and a shearing school is now considered the most suitable place. I had done a certain amount of fencing on the run; but most of this was done by a professional fencer. No land was ploughed whatsoever I was nothing but a nalifledged trapper! I was now offered a job by the company's manager at ten shillings a week on a mixed farm. I cannot say I was glad to accept it; but there was nothing else. The lowness of the wages, I was given to understand, was due to the financial difficulties of the owner. I hardly believed at tho time that a man could farm nearly a thousand acres, employ only one man, and not afford to pay him more than ten shillings a week, or indeed that he would not be worth more even if absolutely untrained. True, some South African farmers do not pay men, as learners, anything for the firßt year; but this policy merely seems to indicate the general backwardness of the farming outlook. A young man in good health is certainly worth as much as an ironmonger's youth—or are the primary industries still «to be regarded as fit only for dolls?

I believe there is a general impression at Home that farming wages (i.e., full current wages) are higher in the Dominions. I have seen no evidence of this. On a relative's farm at Home the cowman obtained" 2js a week, and the head man (I believe) £3. I trust no immigrants will be drawn to the Colonies on the ground of higher wages alone. There is nothing in it. I was really beginning to wonder why immigration was encouraged by the Imperial and Dominion Governments. My only reason for accepting this job at such wages was the opportunity I might have of learning something of mixed farming, which seemed to be the type to aim for, distant as the mark now appeared. If I could have obtained a good rabbiting block I should have had no hesitation in preferring it. Perhaps more than one runholder in the country has made his purchase money by rabbiting. Before taking up this position I spent two days at the New Zealand and South Seas Exhibition in Dunedin. I wished to know something of the country, and as I had been confined to two areas all the time I had been here I had not yet much opportunity. The manufacturing exhibits were a source of surprise. One has the idea in the Old Country that there are no manufacturers in New Zea-

} &n<l. One's conceptions of the country are vague in the extreme. Wellington is known as the capital city in the geography books; but how bookish are one's ideas of the world as gleaned at school! What I felt I required was i"ore knowledge of the general run ot things. The way we were bustled to our respective jobs on landing was doubtless efficient, but hardlv an introduction to the land. I ha*d been iv the country now some 15 months., and really hardly knew much more abou* it, except by hearsay, than on landing. I had had a promise from mv parents that, if I saved two hundred pound; in my first three years in the country, that amount would be trebled. A stare on the land should have been possible with sis hundred and a loan; but of course I had been unable to save anything as yet, though tobacco was my only luxury. I wrote telling them that if I saved all the money I spent on tobacco I should be able to purchase two acres of good dairy land in the Xorth Island at £l2O an acre in twenty years! I felt on going to my new job that really six months' training in some agricultural college would have been preferable. It may seem a strange thing to doubt the value of experience on a farm. "A year with a struggling cocky," says an Australian booklet published for tLo benefit of immigrants, "will be of inestimable value." But the man with whom I was to learn was voung—an excellent point in his favour, I thought: he will have some sympathy with my dreams. Was 1 to be disillusioned ? Iwas! Unfortunately he bad no deep interest in agriculture. He sold the place just clear, 1 was informed later. My job here was to milk half a dozen cows, morning and evening, ride around the sheep, do all the team-work except ploughing and drilling, and make myself generally useful. The milk had to be separated; nicrq and fowls to he fed ; earden to be dug. etc., etc. Whether I laboured to the maximum of mv ability I cannot say. Probably not. One does not feci like goinet all out at ten shillings a week; but I certainly earned my wages. I had my first opportunity of teamwork here with a pair of aged maresone ageless, rather, but it was excellent experience I had had no opportunity in cultivation previously, and as I followed the horses 1 began tr feel like a farm-hand, if not a farmer. Before, I had only been a rabbiter. There were about 100 acres of crop on the place, though it was chiefly a sheep farm. 'Hie place did not pay, the neighbours told me. because it nf 8 ploughing and resowing in English grass; but there was nothing amiss with the vield of the crops, oats, chioflv and some wheat. The land was ploughed with tractor power, also sown, and the crop cut. I was promised a bonus for the harvesting Some neighbours assisted in the harvesting I was the only man employed. Indeed, the scantiness of paid employment in the district amased me. Farms of similar size in Great Britain would have employed at least three hands, yet 1 was the only employee in an area comprising half a dozen farms. A Yew ZenlatT-' sbeepowner kindly invited us to coffee one evening, en voyage, and gave us a lecture on our new country. "It is a common thing in England," he said, "for the farmer never to take off his coat; but that is not the case in New Zealand." This was certainly a practical proof of the statement; but some of the men had grown boys. One of these often complained to me of the dullness of the countryside. He wished to get away, not only from the countryside but from the country. I could sympathise with his view, though he was an excellent worker, and from a practical point it would hare been better for him to remain. Yet I did not find ♦he countrys ; d« dull The snh+l*> differences in the four races which have gone chiefly to make up these islands, and the differences in character and temperament from their prototypes at Home, were as interesting to me as '•»"btlo"w the O'.d Country would be to a New Zealander. A national type was clearly being formed—something between the British and American, I once wrote Home; and the remarks of Americans would seem to confirm thi3. Thev either say, "The country is more British than the British." or "They are the Americans of the British Empire." Here we have the two sides of th<» medal and the ti-"th is nerhans neither one, nor the other, nor yet a mixture; for they are New Zealandere. I have felt it myself, short as has been my stay; but what this national character is or will be is difficult to define. One ean pin down the characteristics of a FYenchraan; not so easily thf> rhnracteristics of a New Zealander Optimism is undoubtedly an essential. Pessimistic as I would have felt in the Old Country under the same circumstances, I could not help enjoying a certain optimism now. It was in the air!