THE SHEEP MOVE

Evening Post, Volume CXVIII, Issue 102, 27 October 1934, Page 14

THE SHEEP MOVE

ON AUSTRALIAN FARMS

STORY OF SHEARING TIME

£ A FORTUNE IN WOOL

The sheep arc on the move—hundreds of thousands of them—on their way to the roaring, vibrating iron sheds in which the wool is shorn from their bodies, and pressed into compact bales, says a writer in the "Melbourne Herald."

Wool—Australia's salvation from the world trade depression. Once again Ihc river of wool is pouring into the sheds from Winton to Bendigo, from Bat hurst to Port Augusta, and from over the vast central districts of Westoru Australia. From the i sheds it is beginning to trickle to the railway sidings; soon it will be Hooding into the city wool stores. Tho active owner or tlio manager of a Big run is a master tactician, who moves masses of troops —as represented by the flocks —to the front line, as represented by the shearing shed. His objective is to keep the sheep up to the shearers without delay or confusion, and without overcrowding the laud in the vicinity of the shed. If it- has been a dry autumn and winter, details of the plan of campaign must be carefully studied to include depots at which the travelling flocks may be fed with maize and a little lucerne. Nothing must be loft to chance. Good seasons or bad, with only rain interrupting, the sheep must bu moved according to the clock. To carry the military simile further: the boss is the comniandcr-in-ckief; the overseer and the head musterer are the senior officers; • and the station hands are the junior officers over anything up to 70,000 privates—the sheep. Where the cooks come in is questionable. They may be rated as quartermasters, for they 'feed the officers of the army. Without...the quartermasters the army would be lost. TRANSPORT FACTOR. There may be runs on which the shearing-shed is situated in the centre, to and from which the flocks can be moved without much trouble along the spokes of an imaginary wheel. The situation of the shed is chiefly determined- by tho proximity of. tho .nearest railway siding or waterway. ; Tlius, on many'stations —in fact, on every station having'a river frontage to the Murray and Darling—the shed is built at one end of the run. ( , . Before the start ot the shearing the flocks must be placed in position ■ according to tho sequence in which they are to pass through tho shed. The shearers having, arrived, and their cook having been elected, tho first batch of sheep is put into the-shed, and the remainder of the flock held in readiness in a nearby paddock. The trial run is generally arranged for Saturday morning. The half-day permits the shearers and shed hands to fall into their organisation. The following Monday sees tho shearing started in earnest. By Wednesday the shearers are broken in to the run, and are racing to break records. Tho sheep are on the move! They are brought'in along one side of tho run, and are taken out, minus their fleeces, along tho other side, the shed being situated at the bottom of tho great U or V. Thus, no two flocks pass closely to be boxed together, and no one strip of ground is cleaned bare of feed. What a life! There is nono better in Australia. . The boss has the worst of it —during tho shearing. Probably ho tosses on his feather bed half tho night, worrying about the flock movements, imagining, perhaps, that so and so will not get a particular flock to a certain yard by the next night, when all his careful planning will be thrown into chaos. _ The overseer, sleeping on his beautiful1 mattress laid along a stretcher, possibly worries a little about a decision he'has had to make without guidance i'rona 'the ' chief;: :*Thc station' • hand snores in his blankets on the ground. AH he worries about is the loss of a shilling at poker, or if the bread next day will be soddy .or not. At'six the alarm' clock rouses the cook -to another day of toil." Drunk with sleep, he staggers to the camp lire in which-ho was careful'to bury a bejar log before going to bed.' With a stick he pokes the mound of! ashes, breaking outward the living -coals that send warmth into his shivering body. In less than a minute a tall column of flame illuminates the camp. For a quarter of an hour he warms himself drinking black tea and smoking blacker tobacco. When the dawn is well advanced, when the galahs are screeching and tho crows cawing, his bread dough is punched down again, and nestles in its pit dug beside tho lire, and on the grids and in the•f ryparis are cooking the chops—about four chops to every man, and the kind of chops you cannot buy in a city. - At seven tho shivering tailor departs. While the mustcrers eat, tho horses come galloping into the temporary stockyard.' After' t'ho' meal. each man cuts and wraps up his own lunch. Tents are pulled down and packed on the truck with the'swags and the overseer's beautiful bed. Then it is to saddle up, get, iy'our '.orders, and ride away across the brilliantly sunlit land. It's rido'and keep your eyes open. Ridingin circles is never permitted, no matter how thick tho scrub. Your business might bo. to push sheep over to some- Other fellow riding to your left or right, or it might be to "drove" the sheep- which have been pushed over to you. HARD WORK. Your work will be tough if the sheep are poor, and soon your voice will bo cracked and your hat worn out; but if they are. in fair condition, with the help of your dog'they will quickly bo moving steadily forward, and you will walk or rido after them, and never for a moment worry about the other fellow's job in "the city. You may get the sheep to the yard before, sundown, or long after the sun has set,'and then the cook's camp fire will be welcoming you, when a whole leg of mutton will just about take the edge off your appetite. All day long, save for the prescribed smokc-ohs and the dinner Hour, the shearers have been bent over frightened sheep, the smell of wool ever in their nostrils. If they.want to speak they must' shout above the roar of whirring machinery. "Tar! Tar!" The tar boy springs into action. The pickers-up • expertly gather in their arms the snowy fleece?, and hurry with them to the \vr>6l tables, over which they are expertly thrown. Men pull away soiled pieces from tlie fleeces, trim them. The classer names a bin, and the fleece is rolled ■up and put into that bin. The bins, when full, aro wheeled away to the •presseve, who labour with wool and presses and bales. Outside await the trucks to transport the bales to the railway; or a gang of men to slide the bales down the chute into the hold of a river barge.

From 1923.tip to and including 1932 Australia's sheep gave 8,G00,000,0001h weight of wool, worth nearly. £400,000,000. They snvp us a little more than- £50.000,000 this last season, and they fire doing; thoir very l)e.«t In do even bettor this your.

To the sheep we out our .ill. Ft lias l.ora said, and truthfully ?». tluit. every mnn, woman, and <?hiM in Australia tides on tho sslio.cp's back. Certainly, our economic life, depends on wool.