STATION LIFE IN WAIRARAPA.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 4260, 14 November 1874, Page 2 (Supplement)

STATION LIFE IN WAIRARAPA.

[I!Y A BOHEMIAN.] No. 5. When I speak of station life in this district, I should be understood to refer to the manners and customs that prevail on what I should call a handy littlo station, yike this of Otaria. It is an altogether different thing to the life of the shepherd kings in Australia, who describe their runs by tho scores of square miles which these contain, and their flocks by the hundreds of thousands which these number. There may be people who would consider station life even here monotonous, just as they would perhaps come to the conclusion that the recurrence of the four seasons, year after year, was becoming tame ; but monotony on a station in New Zealand, and that experienced in Australia, vary greatly. There, but two events of importance take place in the year—always excepting occasional droughts or bushfircs—the lambing and the clipping. The proprietor, as a rule, found his run stocked with scrubbers, and he will leave it stocked with their descendants. His clip will not vary much, in either quality or quantity, from year to year, save as it is affected by an abundance or scarcity of food and water. Here, one sees the other side of the picture. The problem a station-master sets to himself for solution presents many aspects. His land is good enough to permit a great chauge in the character of the flock he finds on his run, and the question with him is how to get the greatest quantity of wool, and mutton. There is land in this locality on which Lincoln sheep would so far thrive as to yield a heavy fleece ; but it would be at the expense of their mutton. Judiciously crossed with the mutton-producing Leicester breed, there would be a good fleece and a fat sheep into the bargain. And as the land, by being grazed fairly, produced better, richer, and stronger grass, the Lincoln strain might be gradually increased, and the big frame of the ammal be covered with succulent meat. In these remarks, I have attempted to sketch an experiment, the progress of which, when closely watched, would relieve the life of the flock-master from any chance of monotony. On this run, I have seen tho descendants, considerably improved, of the flock the proprietor originally found grazing upon it; and I have seen ewes shorn of fleeces some of which weighed 13-Jlbs. each. I note, too, that there are 1000 wethers on tho station, that it is calculated will shear, on an average, lOlbs. of wool each. The lambs from some of the ewes I have alluded to are, of course, immediately valuable, on account of their breeding; but this does not ajipear to me to represent the importance of the change -being gradually effected. The nucleus has been formed of a flock that will be very profitable when fancy prices for lambs are a thing of the past. The proprietor of a flock of 10,000 sheep, cutting lOlbs. of wool each, is in a very different position to the proprietor of a flock of 30,000 cutting 31bs. of wool each. Something of the above character may be said of the life of a runholder engaged in attempting to improve his herd of cattle. • His object is to produce a fat and weighty bullock at the earliest possible period. If he can do this when the animal is three years old, instead of having to wait till it is five or six years old, his profits are immensely increased thereby. Early maturity on the part of his young cattle is what he requires, aud it is very easy for him to acquire such an interest in breeding these cattle as to redeem his life from the possibility of monotony occuring. For, side by side with the two objects I have named, is that of increasing the carrying capacities of his run. This is to be done in a vaiiety of ways. First, of course, comes the labor of clearing it, ploughing it once or twice, perhaps cropping it, and then laying it down with English grasses—principally ryegrass and clover. But then Ids work has only commenced. The cattle thrive best with a change of pasture, and at one period of their lives they do better on one portion of the run; in another, on another. The run is therefore divided into paddocks, in some of which are the young cattle, in others those breeding, in some those fattening, in others the ewes, in others tho wethers, in others the young horse stock, and in others the breeding mares. To arrange these changes, to supervise them, and to watch their effect seom to me to afford abundant occupation for an intelligent man. Then he has to consider the groat labor question. Good station hands are not more abundant in New Zealand than are other good laborers. They know their value. As a rule, I should say they aro not overworked, but the peculiarity of the case is that they are wanted occasionally to perform long and fatiguing duties, and they should be such as would be found reliable on any emergency. I have seen some individuals, whose principal occupation seemed to be to lounge from tho whare to the stables, yarn, smoke, and return; but if thoy were wanted to run and ride about for sixteen hours during tho day mustering cattle they would do it. Ono word let me say about, the Maoris. I havo seen four or five young men, capital stock-riders and shearers, intelligent aud wellconducted. Their arms are tattooed, but their faces aro free from that frightfully ugly graining, so frequently seen in Wellington. I dare say tho fits and starts of work on a station suit these young men; but I must say that, in appearance, they are vastly superior to some I havo seen. After that distinguished novelist, Mr. Anthony Trollope, had visited Australia and New Zealand, he recorded his opinion that although squatting life was very pleasant squatters must pass away beforo tho agriculturist. Squatters, said he, were very pleasant peoplo to visit, they were exceedingly hospitable, thoy lent you their, horses and buggies, thoy gave you capital dinners and good wines, and they let you alone when you were indisposed for company ; but their institution was a doomed one. I am not so sure of that. But for tho exceptional prices that havo ruled in England during the past two or three years—prices purely exceptional, and the continuance of which cannot bo reasonably calculated upon—Australia and New Zealand would have had more wheat than could have boon consumed, prices would have been merely nominal,. and Messrs. Hodge, ' Wurzel, and Napstraw would have boon as near ruin as men could be. Enough wheat for the old world can bo grown on the prairies of America, or exported from tho Baltic; and we, on this side .of tho equator," must not reckon on a European market. But it is probable that our wool will always bo in demand.. To mo it seems that a runholder who will mako his 10,000 acres of laud carry 00,000 sheep instoad of 20,000, and instead of producing 000 cwt. of wool will produco 0000, is as useful in his day and generation as half a scoro farmers

occupying 1000 acres each—and the more especially so if the one bo flourishing and the other half ruined in consequence of the wheat market being overstocked. Talk about the laud being made to maintain a larger population ! Why, do not his thousands of sheep and. cattle maintain a good mauy persons ? In saying this I merely wish to argue that there is a place, in the economy of a new country, for both the squatter and the farmer. The squatter, on his nicely-managed little station in the Wairarapa valley, may live the life of an English country gentleman. During the fortnight I have been here we have had most enjoyable weather every day. We ride over the paddocks, by the streams, and through the Woods daily. We see enormous flax swamps being drained, roads cut through the woods, .and clearing being effected. Those patches of timber that dot the landscape are to be preserved to the estate, and will, I doubt not, at some future time, when thinned aud planted, be valuable. We retire to rest early, and we are awakened at nearly daybreak by the cackling of the fowls, the clatter of the guinea hens, the quacking of the ducks, and the constant feud that smoulders between the emus, the pigs, and the dogs. Let the man of books and cities rusticate here for a time, and I will assure him sound sleep, freedom from dyspepsia, and from the need of the morning " pick-me-up. " And if he chose to havo his books and newspapers forwarded to him, I can conceive that he might spend a tolerably long vacation in the valley without experiencing ennui.