ONE DAY OF STATION LIFE IN OT GO.

Dunstan Times, Issue 979, 21 January 1881, Page 3

ONE DAY OF STATION LIFE IN OT GO.

Picture to yourself a deep secluded Valey surrounded on every side by abrupt nouiituins* shutting out the view com' ilotely and imbuing one irresistibly with u cling cf complete Delation from all tfai ■utaide World. A Clear brawling stream vends its way through tins vale, and on it> ■auks overshadowed by clustering willow* ml a few poplars is situated the home cead—a homely dwelling, comfortable and veil built, but bearing the evidence of a|eratioiis and additions from its former irimitivo condition j at a little distancc<>m the house are various buildings, tin • Hut”—always so called where the mar ied couple reside, .who attend to the conk ng, &c.,—quarters for the men, stables, mt houses, &c., and further on again an he inevitable sheep-yards. Arriving in the evening where a hearty velenme awaited me, 1 thoroughly enjoyed the plenteous hospitality accorded, and early, as is the custom, retired to tdetp the sleep of the just— * * * * * * What treadful sou ds arc these, wherefore thes icudisli, shouts art I disc Jrdailt yells tha ireak rudely noon th“ solemn silence o the faint grey dawn while yet the stars are shining, 1 instinctively ask myself, as starting up in bed with the cold perspira tion trickling from my face, I listen with • ffrighted ears. Has Pamhmonimn broket loose, artd are the gates of Hell thrown wide? -I listen, and methinks the voice, after all are human, and not those of devil-. —“ Sandy kumhe-r r “kum to me fut” —l’ll wafm ve,” and a low thunder of gu turals follow that no pen can describe. On : sudden it breaks upon me that it is th shepherds driving the sheep from the yardon their way to the woolshed, for the pm pose, cf being shorn ; by degrees the noises lie away, and slumber is renewed. Strolling towards the yards, after break fust, 1 observe a band of four hoys trudgin forth from the station, each with a heavi satchel! strapped across bis shoulders “ Who are these, and what’s their mi> sion ? I exclaim. “ These are th • PoiaUneis,* ” is the reply. Good Lord ! dm such things bo in this day of grace *• Poisoners ! ! ” and with intense interest I scan them. Can the villiany <f a Borgia, or the murderous proclivities of a Thug lie concealed beneath those homely countenances? My mind, however, is soon relieved When 1 am informed that they are “ rabbit poisoners," and nothing more. The woolshed is next visited—a large, well-ventilatel bnihling—a vital ingredient when tha nature of the shearers’ occupation.is considered, and the number of mm and sheep congregated together. What a hifsy scene meets the view—no idlers—, every man intent upon his work, with gain for ids unflagging spur, as according to the number of sheep shorn, so are the shearers paid, and it is truly wonderful to witness the marvellous dexterity with which the shears are plied, with pipe in (South, raayhape ; and with the utmost nonchalance, as if going to engagea partner for a polka, the shearer walks jauntily into the pen, grabs hold of a sheep by a leg, and, quite indifferent as to its frantic struggle for liberty* throws it on its back ; then the scientific work ' commences—here* there, and everywhere the flashing blade of the shears gleams, and in an instant the wool y-fleece, as if by magic, rolls back from off the body of the sheep, a»d in a twinkling it is hurled forth a!n abject picture of misery and despair to commence the world once more in desolate naked, .es’. But not long is it left to ruminate over the robbery of its fleece, for outside a man awaits the victim With the brand and paint pot, which, with a dexterous prod, he imprints upon the aniuld's hack the mark of ownership. Amid this busy scene th-re is one worker I count not but admire—the wool sorter. Calm ami imperturbable there ho stood; skins flung to the right of him, to' the deft of him. and, I might almost.say, on the top of him ; and yet bo smiled not, neither did he gnash his teeth ; with the coolness horn of skill, he decided in an instant as to what division or class each sample bo'orr ic I. I envied that maft. But above all and all them was the manager—the presiding deity of the establishment—a verysphnix in aspect -a C/.ar in autocratic power } his smile was Heaven; his frown Hales. The living panorama spread before him was ever under his watchful eye., Kingdoms might rock and fall the rebellion in Ireland might be accomplished ; even the Hall Ministry might he ousted, but what recked he—the stearing must be done, and the wool harvest'.■gathered. St i’ll, tho responsibility of his ofll'e did flot unduly press upon him, j idging from his genial manner and honest smiling countenance. I return wea r y in the evening to the homestead to partake once more of a kindly hospitality, not to he forgotten.. The full harvest moon rises gloriously flooding all around with its silver radiance. The dogs gradually CeaSe Burking ; the fficn, whose voices arc hoa-se with 1 their shoutings, one by one retire to rest, The si* lows deepen in tlie ravines. The brook plashes soothing’y on its onward course. No sound breaks a silence of.perfect tranquility, save the woodliens mournful cry. and the lowing of distant cattle - , in grateful contrast to - all the recent turmoil and hustle of that long hut summers day, A.