MEN OF THE HILLS

Otago Witness, Issue 3886, 4 September 1928, Page 10

MEN OF THE HILLS

THE MUSTERER’S LIFE.

By

G. C. Sandford.

(Special for the Otago Witness.) On the upper stretches of the Waikaia Valley a great sheep station spreads itself over thousands of acres of hill country. There on a rough track, miles from the homestead, we came across a large mob of travelling sheep. First, came a bearded, sunburnt musterer, heading the sheep, to keep them at a steady pace and prevent them from stringing out. Behind him his horse followed listlessly, surrounded by a pack of hot, dusty dogs. Then came the sheep themselves, padding along resignedly, and stirring up the dust with their busy feet. They came on in thousands, for the most part walking steadily, but pausing sometimes to crop the short grass by the wayside, and scurrying on again as a dog interrupted their meal. They were mostly ewes and lambs, and their clamorous bleating mingled with the harsh barking of the shepherds’ dogs. On each side, through the scrub at the margin of tlie unfenced track, rode a musterer, hurrying on the stragglers and keeping them from drifting away from the mob. Dogs raced up and down the edge of the sheep, barking and snarling whenever the pace slackened. In the rear walked two more musterers, driving forward the lame sheep and mis-mothered lambs that always make up the tail of a mob. Last of all-'came the men’s horses, with dog chains rattling from the saddles, and then the dogs themselves, their tongues lolling and their jaws flecked with saliva, followed, tired and silent, after their masters’ hacks. Mustering is one of the most important branches of sheep farming. On any large station, where as many as 30,000 sheep have to be brought in from a run over more than 100,000 acres, 10 or 12 shepherds will be employed. They begin work early in November, and have all the sheep in, and the high country combed for stragglers by the end of January. After this, the shearing muster, there is a spell of some months, during which cattle work is done, till in the autumn the fall muster begins. The ewes are then, brought in for dipping, and the ewes are afterwards taken back to the high country, whilst the lambs are kept in the home paddocks till the worst of the winter is over. In the spring the early lambing muster begins, and the first of the. lambs are marked oufeon the hills. This is scarcely over when preparations have to be made! for The shearing muster again, and the whole year’s work begins once more in November. : The niusterpr starts his day very early, at 2or 3 o’clock in the morning. Nearly all mustering is .done before midday, as sheep travel much better in the cool of the morning than in the heat of the afternoon. It is hardly light, then, when the packer, as the musterers’ cook is called, has to be up and cooking the breakfast of porridge and chops. After the meal the horses are caught and saddled, the dogs untied, and the day’s work begins. Acting under the instructions of the head shepherd the musterers spread out and work their way across a tract of country, driving all the sheep before them to some agreed spot. The men ride slowly along on their sure-footed

horses, working their dogs as they go. If the country is steep and rough the shepherd is forced to walk, and make his way along dangerous tracks and across precipitous shingle slides. By midday the mob is collected, and is then driven back to a small paddock near the hut, and it is barely 3 in the afternoon when the day’s work is done. The rest of the day is spent in smoking, sleeping, and talking, and the whole camp turns in early to prepare for another hard day on the morrow. After a few days, when enough sheep have collected, the mob has to be driven in to the station. The trip often takes two days, for some huts are as far as 20 miles from the homestead. Huts for the musterers are scattered oyer the whole run. They are usually single-roomed cabins, made of birch logs, with the crevices filled with clay. Inside the fireplace is made of earth, and rough bunks, filled with tussock and dried grass, are built on to the'walls. All cooking is done over the open fire, yet a good packer will turn out dishes that would be a credit to many town cooks. The food is very simple—mutton, bread, and tea being the nucleus of every meal, but the life demands such hard fare. The musterer has to provide his own dogs, but his horse is usually supplied by the station owner. Mules arc much in demand for hill work, as they are wonderfully sure-footed even in the steepest places. The average sheep dog is an animal of the highest intelligence, and their obedience to their master’s slightest word of command becomes at times almost uncanny. The life is one of the best that farming has to offer. Healthy hours, clean living, and plain food all combine to make it an almost ideal occupation for those that love the open. The work is lonely, and for many hours, the shepherd is alone with no company but his own thoughts. Yet there are many moments of delight' to any lover of nature, which every hillman is, though he would be the last person to say so. Out on the hills, with the wind fresh from the tussock slopes blowing in his face and all nature in rugged beauty around him, the musterer has much opportunity for deep thought. Long hours' of solitude make them silent* and reserved, but the average shepherd has a clearer mind and more common sense than many town dwellers.