SHEARING in Canterbury

Korero (AEWS), Volume 3, Issue 6, 23 April 1945, Page 22

SHEARING in Canterbury

By

>-t-ihe train rattles and screams past 1 flying power-line posts, trees, scattered houses, and here and there,

idly grazing in the nor’-west sweetened fields, woolly sheep, who look up, then scamper away from the smoke-belching intruder. After many miles of flat, open country the train sweeps past factories and rows of houses, then pulls into the Christchurch Railway-station. Here in the city are prettily arranged windows of the big mercery retailers displaying the latest-style costumes, fit for any screen star or suburban theatre usher, and pin-striped suitings to make drab man look not so drab. And the passenger who watched the scampering sheep from the carriage window little realized that he was gazing at the suitings they’ll be displaying in the shop windows tomorrow.

Canterbury supports a population of over five and a half million sheep. On the drier, lighter land of the plains the most predominant breed is the Corriedale. This is a cross between the English Leicester or Lincoln and the Merino, a half-breed that has been inbred to give the most suitable producer of wool under hardy conditions. Corriedale is the name of the Canterbury sheep station whence the breed originated. This breed is recognized the world over, and has been exported to Japan and the Argentine.

On the wetter areas of the plains, where the sheep are more subject to foot-rot, the three-quarter breedthat is, the Corriedale crossed again with the English Leicester or Lincolnand the Romney or Romney-Corriedale cross are most common. The same applies to some parts of the foothills. The Romney, coming from the Romney marshes south-west of London, is more suited to the wetter areas and is a more heavy-weight sheep giving a big lamb and long stapled wool.

In the high back, country of the Mount Cook and Main Divide areas the Merinos predominate. These are great wool-producers and may be considered the foundation sheep of Australian and New Zealand flocks.

Throughout the plains the Southdown ram is strongly favoured for breeding the type of small-boned lamb that is so popular on the London market. 'There is also the big-framed Border Leicester and numerous other breeds, including the League of Nations sheep, whose true breeding may be known by the owner but not always.

The number of sheep the average plains farmer carries varies from 200 to 1,000, whereas the back-country runs carry up to 20,000 or 30,000. There is a tendency for these big runs to be subdivided into smaller holdings, however, and there are not now as many big holdings as there were, say, forty years back.

Shearing commences about October, farms near the sea-coast and where the climate is milder starting earlier than the back country. At this time the dry sheep are shorn ; then from late November onwards the ewes with lambs lose their

coats. It is generally preferred to have .shearing over by Christmas, but this depends on the weather and the type of •country. Shear too early, and the ewes may catch a chill which would affect their milk and -result in the lambs going back in condition ; or in very bad weather the cold may cause death. Rain falling just before shearing-time often causes trouble and with no sunny weather or warm drying wind following, the shearing can be indefinitely held up. If the wool is not really dry the shearers may refuse to handle the sheep. There is .also the fear of internal combustion with baled damp wool. The wool on the sheep’s belly is always the last to dry because of moisture picked up from the grass. I heard of a farmer who had his sheep in sheds round the yard overnight to ensure their being dry for the next day’s shearing. Finding the grass very damp in the morning he considered it expedient to hire two trucks to cart his sheep in relays to the shearing-shed, ■a matter of no more than 150 yards. Long spells of this wet weather will mat the fleeces. Then a dry dusty winter, especially where sheep have grazed on turnips or near a river-bed, leaves sand and dust on their backs, all of which depreciates the value of the wool. And to-day with shortage of man-power, serious delays have been caused through lack of shearers.

Generally speaking, machines are used on the plains, and blades in the back country. The blades, though a slower job, leave more wool on the sheep, and so give them greater protection from the cold. The only plains farmers still shearing with blades are those on land exposed to cold winds or those who are in a small way and isolated from other farmers with whom they could share the cost of installing machines.

At shearing-time the owner has to see that the sheep are reasonably clean and the machines are in working-order. He also supplies the meals and accommodation for the shearers from the time they start till all the sheep have been shorn, even though wet weather may intervene. The shearing-shed of the plains farmer is often run as a co-operative concern. In these sheds the work is not as specialized

as those of the back country. First there are the shearers, often local men. Then there’s the boy for keeping the floor swept clean and picking up the fleeces and throwing them on the table, where another hand removes the dags and skirting, throws the necks and pieces in their individual bins, then rolls up the fleece ready for baling. Other hands are required for baling and pressing and stencilling the bales ready for their journey to the city wool-store. Often one of these men sees that catching-pens are filled immediately the shearer drags the last sheep out, and he may also tally and brand shorn sheep.

For a plains farmer having about 800 sheep the usual procedure is to round up the sheep the day before shearing and drive them down to the shed that night so that they will be dry and not full stomached, and easier for the shearers to handle. This is generally not difficult to do, as the sheep are seldom far away from the homestead. On the bigger stations of the back country the mustering is more difficult. Here the shepherds rise in the middle of the night to contact the sheep before they break morning camp at sunrise; then the sheep are driven over mountainous country to the home paddocks. Once shearing commences these musterers see to the filling of pens and branding, &c., of shorn sheep. In these bigger sheds would be a dozen shearers, an expert classer who, besides classing all the wool, manages the internal running of the shed, two floor boys, and men for baling and pressing.

On the morning of shearing the shearers grind and set cutters and combs ready to start work at 5.30 a.m. They work in runs, the first being till 7 a.m., when breakfast is brought over to the shed. They start again at 8 a.m. to knock off at 9.45 a.m. for morning tea. 10.15 to 12 brings them to lunch-time. In the afternoon they have twenty minutes smoke and half an hour for afternoon tea, the last run finishing at 5.30 p.m. On the back country stations they sometimes start at 7 a.m. and then work through the day in four two-hour runs. Times are strictly adhered to, gongs being sounded almost to the second, and once the gong sounds no shearer is allowed to drag another sheep from the shearing-pen. It is a common practice to pick the best sheep out of the pen first so that the gear will last as long as possible, for a cutter has to be changed three or four times a run and a comb may not always last a complete run. Time is saved by attending to these during spells.

There’s a yarn that where two shearers are sharing a catching-pen working in bare feet is very popular as a kick under the belly of a sheep will tell an experienced man whether it will be easy to shear or not and, each man for himself, the toughest will be left to the other fellow. Another yarn is of a fellow who loosened small pieces of the wool of a good sheep so that he would quickly tell which one to dive for next time. But these are nothing more than yarns. There’s a rule that where shearing-pens are shared shearers are to grab the nearest sheep, not pick out the best, and this is adhered to.

There is always keen competition among the shearers to see who can have the most out at the end of each run. With machines the average good shearer has So to 200 out at the end of the day. With blades this would be reduced to about 140. A shearer is regarded as out of his apprenticeship when his tally reaches the hundred mark, and he is generally a skilled shearer after two or three seasons. It is a hard game, and care should be taken to wrap up well during spells and to eat regularly and not too much. However, provided you don’t overstrain yourself in an effort to get out

a higher number and you look after yourself sensibly it is a healthy life. At present the charge put on by shearers is about £2 a hundred, though on some backblock runs this may go to £2 10s. Notwithstanding hold-ups through wet weather and travelling-time between sheds, an average good shearer can earn in a season. I might mention that shearers get double pay for rams. Those who are not skilled and spend half an hour convincing the old ram that it’s not going to hurt, so would he mind keeping still, really deserve it. Before the war a few Australians came shearing down here, but lately the only foreigners, if I may so call them, are the shearers from the North Island. Many of these North Island men are Maoris, and they’ve put up some excellent scores.

Generally speaking, shearers are a tough bunch of fellows. They work hard and live hard, and though early nights are usually the rule when workt ing, the average shearer enjoys his beer and the other pleasures of life as much as any one. When there’s a lull through weather and they’re stationed near a township you’ll mostly find them at the local pub or billiards room. That’s where I met them mainly, anyway, and over the handles we discuss next Saturday’s trotting meeting, the girl at the cigarette counter in the shop over the road, or just go over some old farming stories or local gossip. They’re just ordinary fellows, and when they’re not shearing they’re probably on the chain gang at the freezing-works, casual labourers on threshing-machines, or, maybe, like myself, a common farm roustabout.