On the Road to ...?

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1070, 6 September 1930, Page 8

On the Road to ...?

“Swaggers” of New Zealand

YEAR ill and year out, men “with no fixed place of abode” roam the highways and byways of New Zealand. Some are temporarily unemployed—wandering from place to place in search of work. Others are professional wanderers — genuine “swaggers” who lead queer, carefree lives on the road to . . . anywhere.

The North Island has its swaggers, but the happy hunting grounds of the class are the broad, level plains of Canterbury. News from the South of a murder, and the subsequent pursuit of two swaggers, casts a spotlight on these little-known nomads.

New Zealand’s professional swaggers have brethren in every land. In Australia the men of the road are known as “sundowners” because of their habit of arriving at station homesteads in time for the evening meal. The swagger of England answers to the blunt and unromantic name of

“tramp,” and the American nomad invariably is called “hobo.” For some reason or other, however, swaggers and sundowners are spoken of and treated in a much more kindly and tolerant fashion than are tramps and hoboes. This is probably because the New Zealand swagger or the Australian sundowner is more than oftep a harmless, friendly fellow. Incidents such as that referred fa in a grim story from the Lake Coleridge Station are the exceptions that prove an almost traditional rule. Professional swaggers may be divided into two groups—the seasonal, and the all-the-year-round roamers. The first are men who spend the winter months in ordinary employment. Usually they have their trades and are able to find openings in the various centres. When the spring and summer months come round, they feel the call of the outdoors and away they go. But the “permanent” swaggers are never off the road. Winter and summer, rain and shine, they move from place to place; doing little or nothing; seemingly never lacking a meal or a pair of boots. One of the most famous of Canterbury’s permanent swaggers was “The Shiner,” a picturesque personality who was known in every corner of the province. For many years his “beat” lay between Uanmer in the north and Dunedin in the south, and he was familiar with every inch of the •way.

“The Shiner” was a man of ripe age when he died a few years ago. During his career “on the road” (he was the acknowledged king of New Zealand swaggers) he worked only when some hard-hearted farmer or station owner refused to supply a free meal. It was said that he came of a good English family and, in support of this, his speech was cultured and witty.

The day of the swagger is lazy but long. He is awake before dawn and on his way before impatient land-owners are astir. Usually he is accompanied by a “cobber” or two. “Humping the Bluey,” “Swag up.” or “Carrying Matilda.” as swagging is variously known, can be a lonely' pastime, and the men gravitate together.

First of all “bluey” is carefully rolled. The swag consists of*"a roil of grey blankets, a change of clothing (if any), odd scraps of food, a stick of candle, perhaps a piece of soap, a few-dog-eared magazines, sometimes a spare pair of boots and a razor, and always a spare pair of socks. The swag is rolled tightly and carefully, care being taken to see that

the straps or ropes are far enough apart, yet not too far. A badlyplaced bluey can become an Old Man ol -the Sea in no time.

Soon the swaggers are on the road, hopeful of an early meal and on the look-out for a lift from a friendly wagon-driver. If they are in a fairly populated area, they part company to

“work” the houses and meet again at the end of the day. “Cobbers” they have passed the day before have “tipped them as to the “good” houses and the houses to avoid. On reaching a house the swagger pitches liis tale carefully. He must always ask for work, though a job of any size is the last thing he is seeking. A tactful story usually produces a meal and sometimes a few odds and ends of clothing. If invited into the kitchen he considers it good form to fill his pockets with all the food in sight provided the housewife is unwar s*.

So it goes throughout the day. Curiously enough. dyed-in-the-wool swaggers seldom miss a meal, and if they are willing to do a little work, odd jobs are often found for them. Toward evening the party assembles and hunts for a “knock down” or permission to sleep in the outbuildings of a farm or station. If this cannot be obtained the swaggers wait until “lights out” and then help themselves.

The most popular sleeping place is a haystack. Outbuildings are not favoured except in very wet weather, and hen-houses are avoided because of •tlie fleas. Wet feet and fleas are the principal enemies of the swagger. If a haystack is available the wanderers are in luck’s way. They dig into the hay in the lower part of the stack until a man-sized burrow* is formed. This task is by no means as easy as it sounds. A foot or tw*o from the outside of the stack the hay is packed tightly and considerable force and patience are needed to dislodge it. The evening is by far the happiest time day. It is then the swaggers rid themselves of their “bluevs,” and camp with “cobbers” who are journeying the other way. If the weather is warm they bathe in one of Canterbury’s tranquil little streams, after which candles are lit, food is eaten, and yarns are spun. Old swaggers tell strange and romantic tales, and no evening is complete without anecdotes concerning “The Shiner” —their beau ideal of the road. By-and-by they retire to their haystacks, their deserted buildings, or even their hen-houses, there to remain until the first grey streaks warn them to be up and away. Contrary to. general belief, swaggers are usually fit and hardy men, and, for the most part, petty theft and trespass are the worst of their crimes. A swagger with a gun is a rare, incongruous sight. “JEMS.”