WITH THE MEN OUT BACK.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13277, 8 September 1906, Page 1 (Supplement)

WITH THE MEN OUT BACK.

THE SHEARING-SHED. No. I. . MY E. D*ESTERKE. The broad slopes of the foothills lie well to the sun, and the heat, haze is dancing and quivering up the long valley, where the river waters, fresh-and pure from the vast snowfields far beyond, ripple and sparkle over a. mile-wide shingle bed. "On the great plain, an ancient lake bed, there is not a fence, not a. tree, nor a rock to break the sullen monotony, and even the white and azure and gold peaks return the glare from the brown tussock of the plain, while the eun hangs suspended in a smoky sky like a burnished ball of red copper, and stares pitilessly on the parched world beneath. In the great gum tree plantation, beside the homestead nestling behind the foot of a gaunt spur, not a leaf, stirs, and the giant boles exude clear tear-drops, perfumed and viscid.

A little colony of ducks, lazily dreaming in the scented shade, find it too hot even there, and the old drake, still slumbering, is awakened by an admonishing peck from ai favourite spouse, and be leads tho "file out from the shelter. They gasp once or twice in the flood of golden light, and then waddU listlessly to the bank of the creek, which joins--th»- river further over, and flop in -pwHaiscuously with an accompaniment ;af quacks wad satisfied chuckles that arouses th« indignation of a matronly hen sitting amongst the reeds, and with a prolonged and-scandalised cackle she flees that scene of gossip and mixed bathing.

Over the shoulder of the foothills, from the steep face of the raoige, there comes the-far-off bleating of sheep, the barking of dogs, and the yelling of men, for the musterera are swearing as only men who have been chasing refractory merinos amongst rocks since daybreak till ten o'clock can swear. It's all very well to say swearing is an atrocious habit, but the man who thinks he can muster merinos on high country in. a blazing heat without swearing doesn't know a merino from ai piebald polled Angus, that's certain.

Down near where the creek slips into the broad river stands the long brown woolshed, its galvanised iron roof glittering and cracking in the sun, ' and down there white men are working like niggers and earning their bread in the sweat of their brows. It is a toss-up whether the heart- is greater outside than in. Two " boards" are working, one on each side of the shed and eight men to —sixteen toiling humans, stripped to the waist, with perspiration standing out in great beads on their bodies and trickling in tiny streams from their fates, are bending over sixteen big merino wethers and shearing like mad. One in the row of eight backs on No. 1 board suddenly straightens, a white, clean sheep springs up, and is helped out through No. 6 slide, by the shearer's foot, into No. 6 tally pen, and before the animal has recovered from its astonishment at its own strange loss of weight, the man has entered the catching pen behind him, dragged out another " jimbuck,'' and dumped it down on its hindquarters on the floor. The snowy, fleece of the last sheep is kicked aside, and a yell of "Wool away" I brings ai "picker-up" scampering along the board} and ho performs his part, gathering the fleece with practised hand just in that one way in which he can "throw" it out' gracefully on the rolling tables, inner side down, that the second cut fluff may fall between the rollers, and with the "skirt" ready.to the roller's haaid.

Wool away 'ere!" comes from No. 8, "and 'ere!" from No. 3'simultaneously, as the two cut out together, and the " picker-up's" wool-pack mocassins patter along the hoard for .those two fleeces, just as the No. 2 board boy hears yells of "Wool away!" from three places at once, beside a call for " a lick o' Stockholm," which latter call is most imperative, indicating that a shearer is .holding a shorn sheep for the tarring of a cut. The roller swears audibly as five big fleeces descend on his table one after the other, and the pickers get no rest for their aching and blistered feet, for they are off again with brooms to sweep up the locks and pieces. Some of the fleeces are full of thistle pricks, which fact is made apparent occasionally by "remarks" from a shearer or roller whose skin is penetrated by one or more points, but it is an unwritten law that the picker-up . must not swear in the presence of his elders; if he does he is apt to be hastened along the board by the admonishing toe of a classer or roller, and neither of them wear mocassins.

And the roar of the shed-; how the mere mention of it brings before those who know it scenes and faces and well-remembered voices! The bleating of the sheep and the rattle of their thousands of hooves on the gratings, the "Ho, ho, ho!" of the men driving the flock in at the big sliding doors, the'kicking of the sheep on the board, the slam of pen doors and slides, the peculiar roll of the tables, the grinding of the huge press, the clicking of the shears and the shouts of the Blusterers and the harking of the dogs outside— it all comes back to memory! And perhaps some well-loved mate has disappeared on his last swag track over the Great Divide, perhaps last, year's, 'ringer" has taken bis last tally cheque and heard the call of the grim Musterer, perhaps others have' gone to "the other side" shed« and never, came hack and never wrote. Hear the men on' the board now, their shears clicking a steady chorus to the voices, and snipping a second lout occasionally by way of expression mark, while the kicks of the sheep are like the rapping of a conductor's baiton: " Say, Jim"—click—click—" Hullo, matey" —click—snip—" where's thatclickgirlclick—click—kick—lie down, can't you? (this to the sheep). That piece—click—you was —click—snip—shepherdm' down Fairligbt way——las' season—click—click—click —Wool 'way here, Tommy—Oh. my eyesnip—click a—click—click—nice girl —click—l'm lieadin' — click — click — Fairlight—click—way after this shed—Gerrout, you blanky jimbnek, there's vour slide— Rotten beast thatclick— like wire. How're yon gettin' on?' "Oh, right!— click—Struck—click—snip— two or three bare necks—click— a few—click— dick—a patch on the back—click." Then two, three places removed from each other, start: " Swaggie!"—click— Wick. "Wot, 0!"— "Seen anything —chek—of old Smoked snip—lately —click—ain't seen him sinceclick—last tad muster—click—over Nokomai ■ way— click—He's a hard—click—kick—kick ier paralysed son of a gun, wot's yer gamer—click—click— he's a hard case -•click— him first—click— Peaks' shed—click—Ain't dropped — click — 'cross turn—click—since that big drunk—clickover Tarras way—click— snip—kick—4dc3c Now, me darling—click—little iadv lamby! If you're not still—click— you 11 lose one—click—of your daintv pink ears I—click—(laughter from the intervening two shearers, and a- voice further along: " Bill's goin' inter sassietv, and V practisin' on a sheep That's all right— click—matey— snip—click—This 'ere little- lady—click— bein' shorn—click —Must stretch her limbs sometimes—click —Keep quiet, steady click—kickkick— thump—kick— bleatin'. stark, starin' son of an idjut. Stop it! That's —click— the way to quieten them— click—yell in their ears!snipclick—kick kick—— (laughter from the next man «nd a remark from Swaggie: "What about the darlings pink ears. Bill?")— Shut up, i you fellows—dick—click— l'm busy '.'-

Wo ther, let 'er go, Gallagher," comes rom a big man at the end of the board, ;s I*l3 " jimbuck," by an unexpected side .vriggle, capsizes him, and makes a spring 'or freedom, tearing the shorn portion of its fieeco to rags, but a curl of the shearer's left leg round the animal's hindquarters, shows the practised wrestler, and a long arm takes it round the neck; skill triumphs, and the man is on top in a, moment, while the sheep, snorting with indignation, has to submit, and the "board" yells with laughter. " Get-tin' you down, mate?" queries a neighbour. •' Not much he——ain't. Been there beforeclick—knew his nobs—clickwhen 'e was—click—a innocent Lamb." " Geerusalem, ain't itclickhot?" (this from No. 5). "Hot! (from No. 2). Great snakes—click—you should 'a .been with— clickßob an' me—clickover at, Lome —click —snip—las' fall. Got so infernal hotclick—that the snow on the Big Hump melted—click—into boilin' water—click— boiled all the rabbits on the range— (Laughter, and a voice: "There was a young man named Byer, an' he was a lovely—click—storyteller.") Then the man at the end near the door notes the appearance, near the yards outside, of the man they all love, and a yell, " Here's cookie," is heard from end to end of the shed. " Smoke oh! Oh—smoke oh! Smoke oh! Hooray!" and with a few final drives of their shears the men cut out and squat in a circle on the floor, every mother's son of them dripping with sweat and up to the eyes in grease, for the "yolk" is well up in the wool and the pressera and the rollers and classer and shed rou6eabout join that circle for that delicious few minutes of rest, while the station cook, in his long white apron, spotlessly clean, and his big straw hat, serves out the great mugs of tea and the beautiful big buttered scones for which lie is famous. Then the station manager— the boss"—surveys the big bins of " first combing," " second combing," etc., and the shepherds come in, and a merry fire of banter goes round the circle, while in the pens behind «, four-tooth merino ram runs amok by way of variation in the proceedings. It would do the heart ol the dyspeptic reader good to see how those men eat; their hands may be greasy, their clothes may. be stiff enough with grease and sweat and dirt to stand alone, but they don't care, and they look on the cook's white apron and feel clean, and that's near enough. But. the fire of jokes and volleys of witticisms, who amongst those who know station life hasn't enjoyed them? It, isn't the time for yarns, those come at night at the huts. The language jnay be variegated, even purple and lurid at times, but it is rarely, if ever, filthy, and there is never anything heard in disparagement of a woman. Whatever shearers may be, they have in them a very noble, if rough, and ready chivalry, and I have seen a shearer " drummed out" from a shed for speaking slightingly of a girl in the neighbourhood. Their lives are hard, they regard as luxury what a town-bred man would turn up his nose at, but they are, as a whole, about tho merriest, happy-go-lucky, set of men one could desire to meet, and amongst them are some splendid types, while a gathering in one of their huts affords a wealth of character study that, to a student of human nature, could scarcely be surpassed. Many of them are well educated men, who have drifted from one occupation to another, and rich indeed are some of their life histories, but of them, more anon, for here endcth the inexorable space limit.