The Project Gutenberg EBook of Shearing in the Riverina, New South Wales, by
Rolf Boldrewood
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Shearing in the Riverina, New South Wales
Author: Rolf Boldrewood
Posting Date: June 30, 2009 [EBook #4221]
Release Date: July, 2003
First Posted: December 8, 2001
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHEARING IN THE RIVERINA ***
Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
SHEARING IN THE RIVERINA, NEW SOUTH WALES.
by
Rolf Boldrewood
"Shearing commences to-morrow!" These apparently simple words were
spoken by Hugh Gordon, the manager of Anabanco station, in the district
of Riverina, in the colony of New South Wales, one Monday morning in
the month of August. The utterance had its importance to every member
of a rather extensive "CORPS DRAMATIQUE" awaiting the industrial drama
about to be performed.
A low sand-hill a few years since had looked out over a sea of grey
plains, covered partly with grass, partly with salsiferous bushes and
herbs. Two or three huts built of the trunks of the pine and roofed
with the bark of the box-tree, and a skeleton-looking cattle-yard with
its high "gallows" (a rude timber stage whereon to hang slaughtered
cattle) alone broke the monotony of the plain-ocean. A comparatively
small herd of cattle, 2000 or 3000, found more than sufficient
pasturage during the short winter and spring, but were always compelled
to migrate to mountain pastures when the swamps, which alone in those
days formed the water-stores of the run, were dried up. But two or
three, or at most half-a-dozen, stockmen were ever needed for the
purpose of managing the herd, so inadequate in number and profitable
occupation to this vast tract of grazing country.
But, a little later, one of the great chiefs of the wool-producing
interest--a shepherd-king, so to speak, of shrewdness, energy, and
capital--had seen, approved and purchased the lease of this waste
kingdom. Almost at once, as if by magic, the scene changed. Great gangs
of navvies appeared, wending their way across the silent plain. Dams
were made, wells were dug. Tons of fencing wire were dropped on the
sand by the long line of teams which seemed never tired of arriving.
Sheep by thousands, and tens of thousands, began to come, grazing and
cropping up to the lonely sandhill--now swarming with blacksmiths,
carpenters, engineers, fencers, shepherds, bullock-drivers--till the
place looked like a fair on the borders of Tartary.
Meanwhile everything was moving with calculated force and cost, under
the "reign of law". The seeming expense was merely the economic truth
of doing all the necessary work at once, rather than by instalments.
One hundred men for one day rather than one man for one hundred days.
Results soon began to demonstrate themselves. In twelve months the dams
were full, the wells sending up their far-fetched priceless water, the
wire fences erected, the shepherds gone, and 17,000 sheep cropping the
herbage of Anabanco. Tuesday was the day fixed for the actual
commencement of the momentous, almost solemn transaction--the pastoral
Hegira, so to speak, as the time of most station events is
calculated with reference to it, as happening before or after shearing.
But before the first shot is fired which tells of the battle begun,
what raids and skirmishes, what reconnoitring and vedette duty must
take place!
First arrives the cook-in-chief to the shearers, with two assistants to
lay in a few provisions for the week's consumption of 70 able-bodied
men. I must here explain that the cook of a large shearing-shed is a
highly paid and tolerably irresponsible official. He is paid and
provided by the shearers. Payment is generally arranged on the scale of
half-a-crown a head weekly from each shearer. For this sum he must
provide punctual and effective cooking, paying out of his own pocket as
many "marmitons" as may be needful for that end, and to satisfy his
tolerably exacting and fastidious employers.
In the present case he confers with the storekeeper, Mr de Vere, a
young gentleman of aristocratic connexions who is thus gaining an
excellent practical knowledge of the working of a large station and to
this end has the store-keeping department entrusted to him during
shearing.
He does not perhaps look quite fit for a croquet party as he stands
now, with a flour-scoop in one hand and a pound of tobacco in the
other. But he looks like a man at work, and also like a gentleman, as
he is. "Jack the Cook" thus addresses him:
"Now, Mr de Vere, I hope there's not going to be any humbugging about
my rations and things! The men are all up in their quarters, and as
hungry as free selectors. They've been a-payin' for their rations for
ever so long, and of course now shearing's on, they're good for a
little extra!"
"All right, Jack," returns de Vere, good-temperedly, "all your lot was
weighed out and sent away before breakfast. You must have missed the
cart. Here's the list. I'll read it out to you: three bags flour, half
a bullock, two bags sugar, a chest of tea, four dozen of pickles, four
dozen of jam, two gallons of vinegar, five pounds pepper, a bag of
salt, plates, knives, forks, ovens, frying-pans, saucepans, iron pots,
and about a hundred other things. Now, mind you, return all the cooking
things safe, or PAY FOR THEM--that's the order! You don't want
anything more, do you? You've got enough for a regiment of cavalry, I
should think."
"Well, I don't know. There won't be much left in a week if the weather
holds good," makes answer the chef, as one who thought nothing too
stupendous to be accomplished by shearers, "but I knew I'd forgot
something. As I'm here I'll take a few dozen boxes of sardines, and a
case of pickled salmon. The boys likes 'em, and, murder alive! haven't
we forgot the plums and currants? A hundredweight of each, Mr de Vere!
They'll be crying out for plum-duff and currant buns for the afternoon;
and bullying the life out of me, if I haven't a few trifles like. It's
a hard life, surely, a shearers' cook. Well, good-bye, sir, you have
'em all down in the book."
Lest the reader should imagine that the role of Mr Gordon at
Anabanco was a reign of luxury and that waste which tendeth to penury,
let him be aware that all shearers in Riverina are paid at a certain
rate, usually that of ONE pound per hundred sheep shorn. They agree, on
the other hand, to pay for all supplies consumed by them at certain
prices fixed before the shearing agreement is signed. Hence, it is
entirely their own affair whether their mess bills are extravagant or
economical. They can have anything within the rather wide range of the
station store. PATES DE FOIE GRAS, ortolans, roast ostrich, novels,
top-boots, double-barrelled guns, IF THEY LIKE TO PAY FOR THEM--with
one exception. No wine, no spirits! Neither are they permitted to bring
these stimulants "on to the grounds" for their private use. Grog at
shearing? Matches in a powder-mill! It's very sad and bad; but our
Anglo-Saxon industrial or defensive champion cannot be trusted with the
fire-water. Navvies, men-of-war's men, soldiers, AND shearers--fine
fellows all. But though the younger men might only drink in moderation,
the majority and the older men are utterly without self-control once in
the front of temptation. And wars, 'wounds without cause,' hot heads,
shaking hands, delay and bad shearing, would be the inevitable results
of spirits A LA DISCRETION. So much is this a matter of certainty from
experience that a clause is inserted, and cheerfully signed, in most
shearing agreements, "that any man getting drunk or bringing spirits on
to the station during shearing, LOSES THE WHOLE OF the money earned by
him." The men know that the restriction is for their benefit, as well
as for the interest of the master, and join in the prohibition
heartily.
Let us give a glance at the small army of working-men assembled at
Anabanco--one out of hundreds of stations in the colony of New South
Wales, ranging from 100,000 sheep downwards. There are seventy
shearers; about fifty washers, including the men connected with the
steam-engine, boilers, bricklayers and the like; ten or twelve
boundary-riders, whose duty it is to ride round the large paddocks,
seeing that the fences are all intact, and keeping a general look-out
over the condition of the sheep; three or four overseers; half-a-dozen
young gentlemen acquiring a practical knowledge of sheep-farming, or,
as it is generally phrased, "colonial experience"--a comprehensive
expression enough; a score or two of teamsters, with a couple of
hundred horses or bullocks, waiting for the high-piled wool bales,
which are loaded up and sent away almost as soon as shorn;
wool-sorters, pickers-up, pressers, yardsmen, extra shepherds. It may
easily be gathered from this outline what an 'army with banners' is
arrayed at Anabanco. While statistically inclined, it may be added that
the cash due for the shearing alone (less the mess bill) amounts to
1700 pounds; for the washing (roughly), 400 pounds, exclusive of
provisions consumed, hutting, wood, water, cooking. Carriage of wool
1500 pounds. Other hands from 30 pounds to 40 pounds per week. All of
which disbursements take place within from eight to twelve weeks after
the shears are in the first sheep.
Tuesday comes "big with fate." As the sun tinges the far
skyline, the shearers are taking a slight refection of coffee and
currant buns to enable them to withstand the exhausting interval
between six and eight o'clock, when the serious breakfast occurs.
Shearers always diet themselves on the principle that the more they eat
the stronger they must be. Digestion, as preliminary to muscular
development, is left to take its chance. They certainly do get through
a tremendous amount of work. The whole frame is at its utmost tension,
early and late. But the preservation of health is due to their natural
strength of constitution rather than to their profuse and unscientific
diet. Half-an-hour after sunrise Mr Gordon walks quietly into the vast
building which contains the sheep and their shearers--called "the
shed," par excellence. Everything is in perfect cleanliness and order--the
floor swept and smooth, with its carefully planed boards of pale
yellow aromatic pine. Small tramways, with baskets for the fleeces, run
the wool up to the wool tables, superseding the more general plan of
hand picking. At each side of the shed floor are certain small areas,
four or five feet square, such space being found by experience to be
sufficient for the postures and gymnastics practised during the
shearing of a sheep. Opposite to each square is an aperture,
communicating with a long narrow paled yard, outside of the shed.
Through this each man pops his sheep when shorn, where he remains in
company with the others shorn by the same hand, until counted out. This
being done by the overseer or manager supplies a check upon hasty or
unskilful work. The body of the woolshed, floored with battens placed
half an inch apart, is filled with the woolly victims. This enclosure
is subdivided into minor pens, of which each fronts the place of two
shearers, who catch from it until the pen is empty. When this takes
place, a man for the purpose refills it. As there are local
advantages, an equitable distribution of places for shearing has to be
made by lot.
On every subdivision stands a shearer, as Mr Gordon walks, with an air
of calm authority, down the long aisle. Seventy men, chiefly in their
prime, the flower of the working-men of the colony, they are variously
gathered. England, Ireland, and Scotland are represented in the
proportion of one half of the number; the other half is composed of
native-born Australians.
Among these last--of pure Anglo-Saxon or Anglo-Celtic descent--are to
be seen some of the finest men, physically considered, the race is
capable of producing. Taller than their British-born brethren, with
softer voices and more regular features, they inherit the powerful
frames and unequalled muscular development of the breed. Leading lives
chiefly devoted to agricultural labour, they enjoy larger intervals of
leisure than is permissible to the labouring classes of Europe. The
climate is mild, and favourable to health. They have been accustomed
from childhood to abundance of the best food; opportunities of
intercolonial travel are frequent and common. Hence the
Anglo-Australian labourer without, on the one hand, the sharpened
eagerness which marks his Transatlantic cousin, has yet an air
of independence and intelligence, combined with a natural grace of
movement, unknown to the peasantry of Britain.
An idea is prevalent that the Australians are, as a race, physically
inferior to the British. It is asserted that they grow too fast, tend
to height and slenderness, and do not possess adequate stamina and
muscle. The idea is erroneous. The men reared in the cities on the
seaboard, living sedentary lives in shops, banks, or counting-houses,
are doubtless more or less pale and slight of form. So are they who
live under such conditions all over the world. But those youngsters who
have followed the plough on the upland farms, or lived a wilder life on
the stations of the far interior, who have had their fill of wheaten
bread and beefsteaks since they could walk, and snuffed up the free
bush breezes from infancy, they are MEN.--
Stout of heart and ready of hand,
As e'er drove prey from Cumberland;
--a business, I may remark, at which many of them would have
distinguished themselves.
Take Abraham Lawson as he stands there in a natural and unstudied
attitude, 6 feet 4 inches in his stockings, wide-chested, stalwart,
with a face like that of a Greek statue. Take Billy May, fair-haired,
mild, insouciant, almost languid, till you see him at work. Then,
again, Jack Windsor, handsome, saucy, and wiry as a bull-terrier and
like him with strong natural inclination for the combat; good for any
man of his weight, or a trifle over, with the gloves or without.
It is curious to note how the old English practice of settling disputes
with nature's weapons has taken root in Australia. It would 'gladden
the sullen souls' of the defunct gladiators to watch two lads, whose
fathers had never trodden England's soil, pull off their jackets and go
to work "hammer and tongs," with all the savage silence of the true
island type.
It is now about seven o'clock. Mr Gordon moves forward. As he does so,
every man leans towards the open door of the pen in front of which he
stands. The bell sounds! With the first stroke each one of the seventy
men has sprung upon a sheep--has drawn it out--placed its head across
his knee--and is working his shears as if the "last man out" was to be
flogged, or tarred and feathered at the least. Four minutes--James
Steadman, who learned last year, has shorn down one side of his sheep;
Jack Holmes and Gundagai Bill are well down the other sides of theirs;
when Billy May raises himself with a jerking sigh, and releases his
sheep, perfectly clean-shorn from the nose to the heels, through the
aperture of his separate enclosure. With the same effort apparently he
calls out 'Wool!' and darts upon another sheep. Drawing this second
victim across his knee, he buries his shear-points in the long wool of
its neck. A moment after a lithe and eager boy has gathered up fleece
number one, and tossed it into the train-basket, the shearer is halfway
down the sheep's side, the wool hanging in one fleece like a great
glossy mat, before you have done wondering whether he did really
shear the first sheep, or whether he had not a ready-shorn one in his
coat-sleeve--like a conjuror.
By this time Jack Holmes and Gundagai Bill are 'out,' or finished; and
the cry of "Wool!' Wool!" seems to run continuously up and down the
long aisles of the shed, like a single note upon some rude instrument.
Now and then the "refrain" is varied by "Tar!" being shouted instead,
when a piece of skin is snipped off as well as the wool. Great healing
properties are attributed to this extract in the shed. And if a shearer
slice off a piece of flesh from his own person, as occasionally
happens, he gravely anoints it with the universal remedy, and considers
that the onus then lies with Providence, there being no more that man
can do. Though little time is lost, the men are by no means up to the
speed which they will attain in a few days, when in full practice and
training. Their nerve, muscle, eye, endurance, will be all at, so to
speak, concert-pitch, and sheep after sheep will be shorn with a
precision and celerity even awful to the unprofessional observer.
The unpastoral reader may be informed that speed and completeness of
denudation are the grand desiderata in shearing; the employer thinks
principally of the latter, the shearer principally of the former. To
adjust equitably the proportion is one of those incomplete aspirations
which torment humanity. Hence the contest--old as human society--between
labour and capital.
This is the first day. According to old-established custom, a kind of
truce obtains. It is before the battle, the "salut," when no hasty word
or too demonstrative action can be suffered by the canons of good
taste. Red Bill, Flash Jack, Jem the Scooper, and other roaring blades,
more famous for expedition than faithful manipulation, are shearing
today with a painstaking precision, as of men to whom character is
everything.
Mr Gordon marches softly up and down, regarding the shearers with a
paternal and gratified expression, occasionally hinting at slight
improvements of style, or expressing unqualified approval as a sheep is
turned out shaven rather than shorn. All goes on well. Nothing is heard
but expressions of goodwill and enthusiasm for the general welfare. It
is a triumph of the dignity of labour.
One o'clock. Mr Gordon moved on to the bell and sounded it. At the
first stroke several men on their way to the pens stopped abruptly and
began to put on their coats. One fellow of an alert nature (Master Jack
Windsor) had just finished his sheep and was sharpening his shears,
when his eye caught Mr Gordon's form in proximity to the final bell.
With a bound like a wild cat, he reached the pen and drew out his sheep
a bare second before the first stroke, amidst the laughter and
congratulations of his comrades. Another man had his hand on the
pen-gate at the same instant, but by the Median law was compelled to
return sheepless. He was cheered, but ironically. Those whose sheep
were in an unfinished stage quietly completed them; the others moving
off to their huts, where their board literally smoked with
abundance.
An hour passed. The meal was concluded; the smoke was over; and the
more careful men were back in the shed sharpening their shears by two
o'clock. Punctually at that hour the bell repeated its summons DE CAPO.
The warm afternoon gradually lengthened its shadows; the shears clicked
in tireless monotone; the pens filled and became empty. The
wool-presses yawned for the mountain of fleeces which filled the bins
in front of them, divided into various grades of excellence, and
continuously disgorged them, neatly and cubically packed and branded.
At six o'clock the bell brought the day's work to a close. The sheep of
each man were counted in his presence, and noted down with scrupulous
care, the record being written out in full and hung up for public
inspection in the shed next day. This important ceremony over, master
and men, manager, labourers and supernumeraries, betook themselves to
their separate abodes, with such keen avoidance of delay that in five
minutes not a soul was left in or near the great building lately so
busy and populous, except the boys who were sweeping up the floor. The
silence of ages seems to fall and settle upon it.
Next morning at a rather earlier hour every man is at his post.
Business is meant decidedly. Now commences the delicate and difficult
part of the superintendence which keeps Mr Gordon at his post in the
shed, nearly from daylight till dark, for from eight to ten weeks.
During the first day he has formed a sort of gauge of each man's temper
and workmanship. For now, and henceforth, the natural bias of each
shearer will appear. Some try to shear too fast, and in their haste
shear badly. Some are rough and savage with the sheep, which do
occasionally kick and become unquiet at critical times; and it must be
confessed are provoking enough. Some shear very fairly and handsomely
to a superficial eye, but commit the unpardonable offence of "leaving
wool on." Some are deceitful, shearing carefully when overlooked, but
"racing" and otherwise misbehaving directly the eye of authority is
diverted. These and many other tricks and defects require to be noted
and abated, quietly but firmly, by the manager of the shed--firmly
because evil would develop and spread ruinously if not checked; quietly
because immense loss might be incurred by a strike. Shearing differs
from other work in this wise: it is work against time, more especially
in Riverina. If the wool be not off the backs of the sheep before
November, all sorts of draw-backs and destructions supervene. The
spear-shaped grass-seeds, specially formed as if in special collusion
with the Evil One, hasten to bury themselves in the wool, and even in
the flesh of the tender victims. Dust rises in red clouds from the
unmoistened, betrampled meadows so lately verdurous and
flower-spangled. From snowy white to an unlovely dark brown turn the
carefully washed fleeces, causing anathema from overseers and
depreciation from brokers. All these losses of temper, trouble, and
money become inevitable if shearing be protracted, it may be, beyond a
given week.
Hence, as in harvest with a short allowance of fair weather,
discipline must be tempered with diplomacy. Lose your temper, and be
over particular: off go Billy May, Abraham Lawson, and half-a-dozen of
your best men, making a weekly difference of perhaps two or three
thousand sheep for the remainder of the shearing. Can you not replace
them? Not so! Every shed in Riverina will be hard at work during this
present month of September and for every hour of October. Till that
time not a shearer will come to your gate, except, perhaps, one or two
useless, characterless men. Are you to tolerate bad workmanship? Not
that either. But try all other means with your men before you resort to
harshness; and be quite certain that your sentence is just, and that
you can afford the defection.
So our friend Mr Gordon, wise from many tens of thousands of shorn
sheep that have been counted out past his steady eye, criticises
temperately, but watchfully. He reproves sufficiently, and no more, any
glaring fault; makes his calculation as to who are really bad shearers,
and can be discharged without loss to the commonwealth, or who can
shear fairly and can be coached up to a decent average. One division,
slow, and good only when slow, have to be watched lest they emulate
"the talent," and so come to grief. Then "the talent" has to be mildly
admonished from time to time lest they force the pace, set a bad
example, and lure the other men on to "racing." This last leads to
slovenly shearing, ill-usage of the sheep, and general dissatisfaction.
Tact, temper, patience, and firmness are each and all necessary in that
Captain of Industry who has the very delicate and important task of
superintending a large woolshed. Hugh Gordon had shown all in such
proportion as would have made a distinguished man anywhere, had fortune
not adjusted for him this particular profession. Calm with the
consciousness of strength, he was kind and considerate in manner as in
nature, until provoked by glaring dishonesty or incivility. Then the
lion part of his nature woke up, so that it commonly went ill with the
aggressor. As this was matter of public report, he had little occasion
to spoil the repose of his bearing. Day succeeds day, and for a
fortnight the machinery goes on smoothly and successfully. The sheep
arrive at an appointed day and hour by detachments and regiments at the
washpen. They depart thence, like good boys on Saturday night, redolent
of soap and water, and clean to a fault. They enter the shed white and
flossy as newly combed poodles to emerge, on the way back to their
pasturage, slim, delicate, agile, with a bright black A legibly branded
with tar on their paper-white skins.
The Anabanco world--stiffish but undaunted--is turning out of bed one
morning. Ha! what sounds are these? And why does the room look so dark?
Rain, as I'm alive. "Hurrah!" says Master Jack Bowles, one of the young
gentlemen. He is learning (more or less) practical sheep-farming,
preparatory to having (one of these days) an Anabanco of his own.
"Well, this is a change, and I'm not sorry for one," quoth Mr.
Jack, "I'm stiff all over. No one can stand such work long. Won't the
shearers growl! No shearing to-day, and perhaps none tomorrow either."
Truth to tell, Mr Bowles' sentiments are not confined to his ingenuous
bosom. Some of the shearers grumble at being stopped "just as a man was
earning a few shillings." Those who are in top pace and condition don't
like it. But to many of the rank and file--working up to and a little
beyond their strength--with whom swelled wrists and other protests of
nature are becoming apparent, it is a relief, and they are glad of the
respite. So at dinner-time all the sheep in the sheds, put in overnight
in anticipation of such a contingency, are reported shorn. All hands
are then idle for the rest of the day. The shearers dress and avail
themselves of various resources. Some go to look at their horses, now
in clover, or its equivalent, in the Riverina graminetum. Some play
cards, others wash or mend their clothes. A large proportion of the
Australians having armed themselves with paper, envelopes, and a
shilling's worth of stamps from the store, bethink themselves of
neglected or desirable correspondents. Many a letter for Mrs Leftalone,
Wallaroo Creek, or Miss Jane Sweetapple, Honeysuckle Flat, as the case
may be, will find its way into the post-bag tomorrow. A pair of
youngsters are having a round or two with the gloves; while to complete
the variety of recreations compatible with life at a woolshed, a
selected troupe are busy in the comparative solitude of that building,
at a rehearsal of a tragedy and a farce, with which they intend, the
very next rainy day, to astonish the population of Anabanco.
At the home-station a truce to labour's "alarms" is proclaimed except
in the case and person of Mr de Vere. So far is he from participation
in the general holiday that he finds the store thronged with shearers,
washers, and "knock-about men," who being let loose, think it would be
nice to go and buy something "pour passer le temps." He therefore
grumbles slightly at having no rest like other people.
"That's all very fine," says Mr Jack Bowles, who, seated on a case, is
smoking a large meerschaum and mildly regarding all things, "but what
have you got to do when we're all HARD AT WORK at the shed?" He speaks
with an air of great importance and responsibility.
"That's right, Mr Bowles," chimes in one of the shearers, "stand up for
the shed. I never see a young gentleman work as hard as you do."
"Bosh!" growls de Vere, "as if anybody couldn't gallop about from the
shed to the washpen, and carry messages, and give half of them wrong!
Why, Mr Gordon said the other day, he should have to take you off and
put on a Chinaman--that he couldn't make more mistakes."
"All envy and malice, and t'other thing, de Vere, because you think I'm
rising in the profession," returns the good-natured Bowles, "Mr
Gordon's going to send 20,000 sheep, after shearing, to the Lik Lak
paddock, and he said I should go in charge."
"Charge be hanged!" laughs de Vere, with two very bright-patterned
Crimean shirts, one in each hand, which he offers to a tall young
shearer for inspection. "There's a well there, and whenever
either of the two men, of whom you'll have CHARGE, gets sick or runs
away, you'll have to work the whim in his place, till another man's
sent out, if it's a month."
This appalling view of station promotion rather startles Mr Jack, who
applies himself to his meerschaum, amid the ironical comments of the
shearers. However, not easily daunted or "shut up," according to the
more familiar station phrase, he rejoins, after a brief interval of
contemplation, "that accidents will happen, you know, de Vere, my
boy--apropos of which moral sentiment, I'll come and help you in your
dry-goods business; and then, look here, if YOU get ill or run away,
I'll have a profession to fall back upon."
This is held to be a Roland of sufficient pungency for de Vere's
Oliver. Everyone laughed. And then the two youngsters betook themselves
to a humorous puffing of the miscellaneous contents of the store:
tulip-beds of gorgeous Crimean shirts, boots, books, tobacco, canvas
slippers, pocket-knives, Epsom salts, pipes, pickles, painkillers,
pocket handkerchiefs, pills, sardines, saddles, shears and sauces: in
fact everything which every kind of man might want, and which
apparently every man did want, for large and various were the
purchases, and great the flow of conversation. Finally, everything was
severely and accurately debited to the purchasers, and the store was
cleared and locked up. A large store is a necessity of a large station;
not by any means because of the profit upon goods sold, but it
obviously would be bad economy for old Bill, the shepherd, or Barney,
the bullock-driver, to visit the next township, from ten to thirty
miles distant, as the case may be, every time the former wanted a pound
of tobacco, or the latter a pair of boots. They might possibly obtain
these necessary articles as good in quality, as cheap in price. But
there are wolves in that wood, oh, my weak brothers! In all towns
dwells one of the 'sons of the Giant'--the Giant Grog--red-eyed, with
steel muscles and iron claws; once in these, which have held many and
better men to the death, neither Barney nor Bill emerges, save pale,
fevered, nerveless, and impecunious. So arose the station store. Barney
befits himself with boots without losing his feet; Bill fills his
pocket with match-boxes and smokes the pipe of sobriety, virtuous
perforce till his carnival, after shearing.
The next day was wet, and threatened further broken weather. Matters
were not too placid with the shearers. A day or two for rest is very
well, but continuous wet weather means compulsory idleness, and gloom
succeeds repose; for not only are all hands losing time and earning no
money, but they are, to use the language of the stable "eating their
heads off" the while. The rather profuse mess and general expenditure,
which caused little reflection when they were earning at the rate of
two or three hundred pounds a year, became unpleasantly suggestive, now
that all is going out and nothing coming in. Hence loud and deep were
the anathemas as the discontented men gazed sadly or wrathfully at the
misty sky.
A few days showery weather having, therefore, wellnigh driven
our shearers to desperation, out comes the sun in all his glory. He is
never far away or very faint in Riverina. All the pens are filled for
the morrow; very soon after the earliest sunbeams the bell sounds its
welcome summons, and the whole force tackles to the work with an ardour
proportioned to the delay, every man working as if for the ransom of
his whole family from slavery. How men work spurred on by the double
excitement of acquiring social reputation and making money rapidly! Not
an instant is lost; not a nerve, limb, or muscle doing less than the
hardest task-master could flog out of a slave. Occasionally you see a
shearer, after finishing his sheep, walk quickly out and not appear for
a couple of hours, or perhaps not again during the day. Do not put him
down as a sluggard; be assured that he has tasked nature dangerously
hard, and has only given in just before she does. Look at that silent
slight youngster, with a bandage round his swollen wrist. Every "blow"
of the shears is agony to him, yet he disdains to give in, and has been
working "in distress" for hours. The pain is great, as you can see by
the flush which occasionally surges across his brown face, yet he goes
on manfully to the last sheep, and endures to the very verge of
fainting.
There was now a change in the manner and tone of the shed, especially
towards the end of the day. It was now the ding of the desperate fray,
when the blood of the fierce animal man is up, when mortal blows are
exchanged, and curses float upward with the smoke and dust. The
ceaseless clicking of the shears--the stern earnestness of the men,
toiling with a feverish and tireless energy--the constant succession
of sheep shorn and let go, caught and commenced--the occasional savage
oath or passionate gesture, as a sheep kicked and struggled with
perverse delaying obstinacy--the cuts and stabs, with brief decided
tones of Mr Gordon, in repression or command--all told the spectator
that tragic action was introduced into the performance. Indeed, one of
the minor excitements of shearing was then and there transacted. Mr
Gordon had more than once warned a dark sullen-looking man that he did
not approve of his style of shearing. He was temporarily absent, and on
his return found the same man about to let go a sheep whose appearance,
as a shorn wool-bearing quadruped, was painful and discreditable in the
extreme.
"Let your sheep go, my man," said Gordon, in a tone which somehow
arrested the attention of nearly all the shearers, "but don't trouble
yourself to catch another!"
"Why not?" said the delinquent, sulkily.
"You know very well why not!" replied Gordon, walking closely up to
him, and looking straight at him with eyes that began to glitter,
"you've had fair warning. You've not chosen to take it. Now you can
go!"
"I suppose you'll pay a man for the sheep he's shorn?" growled
out the ruffian.
"Not one shilling until after shearing. You can come then if you like,"
answered Gordon, with perfect distinctness.
The cowed bully looked savagely at him; but the tall powerful frame and
steady eye were not inviting for personal arbitration of the matter in
hand. He put up his two pairs of shears, put on his coat, and walked
out of the shed. The time was passed when Red Bill or Terrible Dick
(ruffians whom a sparse labour-market rendered necessary evils) would
have flung down his shears upon the floor and told the manager that if
he didn't like that shearing he could shear his------sheep himself and
be hanged to him; or, on refusal of instant payment, would have
proposed to bury his shears in the intestines of his employer by way of
adjusting the balance between Capital and Labour. Many wild tales are
told of woolshed rows. I knew of one squatter stabbed mortally with
that fatal and convenient weapon, a shear-blade.
The man thus summarily dealt with could, like most of his companions,
shear very well if he took pains. Keeping to a moderate number of
sheep, his workmanship could be good. But he must needs try and keep up
with Billy May or Abraham Lawson, who can shear from 100 to 130 sheep
per day, and do them beautifully. So in "racing" he works hastily and
badly, cuts the skin of his luckless sheep nearly as often as the wool,
and leaves wool here and there on them, grievous and exasperating to
behold. So sentence of expulsion goes forth fully against him. Having
arrayed himself for the road he makes one more effort for a settlement
and some money wherewith to pay for board and lodging on the road. Only
to have a mad carouse at the nearest township, however; after which he
will tell a plausible story of his leaving the shed on account of Mr
Gordon's temper, and avail himself of the usual free hospitality of the
bush to reach another shed. He addresses Mr Gordon with an attempt at
conciliation and deference.
"It seems very 'ard, sir, as a man can't get the trifle of money coming
to him, which I've worked 'ard for."
"It's very hard you won't try and shear decently," retorts Mr Gordon,
by no means conciliated. "Leave the shed!"
Ill-conditioned rascal as the shearer is, he has a mate or
travelling-companion in whose breast exists some rough idea of
fidelity. He now takes up the dialogue.
"I suppose if Jim's shearing don't suit, mine won't either."
"I did not speak to you," answered Mr Gordon, as calmly as if he had
expected the speech, "but of course you can go."
He said this with an air of studied unconcern, as if he would rather
like a dozen more men to knock off work. The two men walk out, but the
epidemic does not spread, and several take the lesson home and mend
their ways accordingly.
The weather now was splendid; not a cloud specked the bright blue
sky. The shearers continue to work at the same express-train
pace; fifty bales of wool roll every day from the wool-presses; as fast
as they reach that number they are loaded upon the numerous drays and
wagons which have been waiting for weeks. Tall brown men have been
recklessly cutting up hides for the last fortnight, wherewith to lash
the bales securely. It is considered safer practice to load wool as
soon as may be; fifty bales represent about a thousand pounds sterling.
In a building, however secure, should a fire break out, a few hundred
bales are easily burned; but once on the dray, this much-dreaded "edax
rerum" in a dry country has little chance. The driver, responsible to
the extent of his freight, generally sleeps under his dray; hence both
watchman and insulation are provided.
The unrelaxing energy with which the work was pushed at this stage was
exciting and contagious; at or before daylight every soul in the great
establishment was up. The boundary-riders were always starting off for
a twenty or thirty mile ride, and bringing tens of thousands of sheep
to the wash-pen. At that huge lavatory there was splashing and soaking
all day with an army of washers; not a moment is lost from daylight
till dark, or used for any purpose save the all-engrossing work and
needful food. At nine o'clock p.m. luxurious dreamless sleep, given
only to those whose physical powers have been taxed to the utmost and
who can bear without injury the daily tension.
Everything and everybody were in splendid working order, nothing out of
gear. Rapid and regular as a steam-engine the great host of toilers
moved onward daily with a march which promised an unusually early
completion. Mr Gordon was not in high spirits, for so cautious and
far-seeing a captain rarely felt himself so independent of
circumstances as to indulge in that reckless mood--but much satisfied
with the prospect. Whew! The afternoon darkens, and the night is
delivered over to water-spouts and hurricanes, as it appears. Next day
was raw, gusty, with chill heavy showers; drains had to be cut, roofs
to be seen to; shorn sheep were shivering, washers all playing
pitch-and-toss, shearers sulky; everybody but the young gentlemen
wearing a most injured expression of countenance. "Looks as if it would
rain for a month," says Long Jack. "If we hadn't been delayed might
have had the shearing over by this." Reminded that there are 50,000
sheep yet remaining to be shorn, and that by no possibility could they
have been finished, he answers, "Suppose so, always the same,
everything sure to go agin the poor man." The weather did not clear up.
Winter seemed to have taken thought, and determined to show even this
land of eternal summer that he had his rights. The shed would be
filled, and before the sheep so kept dry were shorn, down would come
the rain again. Not a full day's shearing for ten days. Then the clouds
disappeared as if the curtain of a stage had been rolled up, and lo!
the golden sun, fervid and impatient to obliterate the track of winter.
The first day after the recommencement, matters went much as usual.
Steady work and little talk, as if everyone was anxious to make
up for the lost time. But on the second morning after breakfast, when
the bell sounded, instead of the usual cheerful dash at the sheep,
every man stood silent and motionless in his place. Someone uttered the
words "roll up!". Then the seventy men converged, and slowly, but with
one impulse, walked up to the end of the shed where stood Mr Gordon.
The concerted action of any body of men bears with it an element of
power which commands respect. The weapon of force is theirs; it is at
their option to wield it with or without mercy. At one period of
Australian colonisation a superintendent in Mr Gordon's position might
have had good ground for uneasiness. Mr Jack Bowles saw in it an EMEUTE
of a democratic and sanguinary nature, regretted deeply his absent
revolver, but drew up to his leader prepared to die by his side. That
calm centurion felt no such serious misgivings. He knew that there had
been dire grumbling among the shearers in consequence of the weather.
He knew that there were malcontents among them. He was prepared for
some sort of demand on their part, and had concluded to make certain
concessions of a moderate degree. So looking cheerfully at the men, he
quietly awaited the deputation. As they neared him there was a little
hesitation, and then three delegates came to the front. These were Old
Ben, Abraham Lawson, and Billy May. Ben Thornton had been selected for
his age and long experience of the rights and laws of the craft. He was
a weather-beaten, wiry old Englishman, whose face and accent, darkened
as the former was by the Australian summers of half a century, still
retained the trace of his native Devonshire. It was his boast that he
had shorn for forty years, and as regularly "knocked-down" (or spent in
a single debauch) his shearing money. Lawson represented the small
free-holders, being a steady, shrewd fellow, and one of the fastest
shearers. Billy May stood for the fashion and "talent," being the
"Ringer," or fastest shearer of the whole assembly, and as such truly
admirable and distinguished.
"Well now, men," quoth Mr Gordon, cheerily meeting matters half-way,
"what's it all about?" The younger delegate looked at Old Ben, who, now
that it "was demanded of him to speak the truth," or such dilution
thereof as might seem most favourable to the interests of the shed,
found a difficulty like many wiser men about his exordium.
"Well, Muster Gordon," at length he broke forth, "look'ee here, sir.
The weather's been awful bad, and clean agin shearing. We've not been
earning our grub, and--"
"So it has," answered the manager, "so it has. But can I help the
weather? I'm as anxious as you are to have the shearing over quickly.
We're both of one mind about that, eh?"
"That's all right enough, sir," struck in Abraham Lawson, who felt that
Ben was getting the worst of the argument, and was moreover far less
fluent than usual, probably from being deprived of the aid of the
customary expletives, "but we're come to say this, sir, that the
season's turned out very wet indeed. We've had a deal of broken
time, and the men feel it very hard to be paying for a lot of rations,
and hardly earning anything. We're shearing the sheep very close and
clean. You won't have 'em done no otherways. Not like some sheds where
a man can 'run' a bit and make up for lost time. Now we've all come to
think this, sir, that if we're to go on shearing the sheep well, and to
stick to them, and get them done before the dust and grass-seed come
in, that you ought to make us some allowance. We know we've agreed for
so much a hundred, and all that. Still as the season's turned so
out-and-out bad, we hope you'll consider it and make it up to us
somehow."
"Never knew a worse year," corroborated Billy May, who thought it
indispensable to say something. "Haven't made enough, myself, to pay
the cook."
This was not strictly true, at any rate, as to Master Billy's own
earnings; he being such a remarkably fast shearer (and good withal),
that he had always a respectable sum credited to him for his days'
work, even when many of the slower men came off short enough.
However, enough had been said to make Mr Gordon fully comprehend the
case. The men were dissatisfied. They had come in a roundabout way to
the conclusion that some pecuniary concession, not mentioned in their
bond, should come from the side of capital to that of labour. Whether
wages, interest of capital, share of profits, reserve fund, they knew
not nor cared. This was their stand. And being Englishmen they intended
to abide by it.
The manager had considered the situation before it actually arose. He
now rapidly took in the remaining points of debate. The shearers had
signed a specific agreement for a stipulated rate of payment,
irrespective of the weather. By the letter of the law, they had no
case. Whether they made little or much profit was not his affair. But
he was a just and kindly man, as well as reasonably politic. They had
shorn well, and the weather had been discouraging. He knew too that an
abrupt denial might cause a passive mutiny, if not a strike. If they
set themselves to thwart him, it was in their power to shear badly, to
shear slowly, and to force him to discharge many of them. He might have
them fined, perhaps imprisoned by the police-court. Meanwhile, how
could shearing go on? Dust and grass-seeds would soon be upon them. He
resolved on a compromise, and spoke out at once in a firm and decided
tone as the men gathered up yet more closely around him.
"Look here, all of you! You know very well that I'm not bound to find
you in fine weather. Still I am aware that the season has been against
you. You have shorn pretty well, so far, though I've had to make
examples, and am quite ready to make more. What I am willing to do is
this: to every man who works on till the finish and shears to my
satisfaction, I will make a fair allowance in the ration account. That
is, I will make no charge for the beef. Does that suit you?" There
was a chorus of "All right sir, we're satisfied. Mr Gordon
always does the fair thing." &c. And work was immediately resumed with
alacrity.
The clerk of the weather, too gracious even in these regions as far as
the absence of rain is concerned, was steadily propitious. Cloudless
skies and a gradually ascending thermometer alone were the signs that
spring was changing into summer. The splendid herbage ripened and
dried; patches of bare earth began to be discernible amid the late
thick-swarded pastures, dust to rise and cloud-pillars of sand to float
and eddy--the desert genii of the Arab. But the work went on at a high
rate of speed, outpacing the fast-coming summer; and before any serious
disasters arose, the last flock was "on the battens," and, amid
ironical congratulations, the "cobbler," or last sheep was seized, and
stripped of his rather dense and difficult fleece. In ten minutes the
vast woolshed, lately echoing with the ceaseless click of the shears,
the jests, the songs, the oaths of the rude congregation, was silent
and deserted. The floors were swept, the pens closed, the sheep on
their way to a distant paddock. Not a soul remains about the building
but the pressers, who stay to work at the rapidly lessening piles of
fleeces in the bins, or a meditative teamster who sits musing on a
wool-bale, absorbed in a calculation as to when his load will be made
up.
It is sundown, a rather later time of closing than usual, but rendered
necessary by the possibility of the "grand finale." The younger men
troop over to the hut, larking like schoolboys. Abraham Lawson throws a
poncho over his broad shoulders, lights his pipe, and strides along,
towering above the rest, erect and stately as a guardsman. Considerably
more so than you or I, reader, would have been, had we shorn 130 sheep,
as he has done to-day. Billy May has shorn 142, and he puts his hand on
the five-foot paling fence of the yard and vaults over it like a deer,
preparatory to a swim in the creek. At dinner you will see them all
with fresh Crimeans and Jerseys, clean, comfortable, and in grand
spirits. Next morning is settling-day. The book-keeping departments at
Anabanco being severely correct, all is in readiness. Each man's tally
or number of sheep shorn has been entered daily to his credit. His
private and personal investments at the store have been as duly
debited. The shearers, as a corporation, have been charged with the
multifarious items of their rather copious mess-bill. This sum total is
divided by the number of the shearers, the extract being the amount for
which each man is liable. This sum varies in its weekly proportion at
different sheds. With an extravagant cook, or cooks, the weekly bill is
often alarming. When the men and their functionary study economy it may
be kept very reasonably low.
The men have been sitting or standing about the office for half-an-hour
when Mr Jack Bowles rushes out, and shouts "William May!" That young
person, excessively clean, attired in a quiet tweed suit, with his hair
cut very correctly short, advances with an air of calm intrepidity, and
faces Mr Gordon. Gordon, now seated at a long table, wearing a
judicial expression of countenance.
"Well, May, here's your account":--
So many sheep, at 1 pound per 100... xxxx pounds
Cook, so many weeks................. xxxx pounds
Shearing store account.............. xxxx pounds
Private store account............... xxxx pounds
----
Total............................... xxxx pounds
----
"Is the tally of your sheep right?" "Oh! I daresay it's all right, Mr
Gordon, I made it so and so; about ten less."
"Well, well! Ours is correct, no doubt. Now I want to make up a good
subscription for the hospital this year. How much will you give? You've
done pretty well, I think."
"Put me down a pound, sir."
"Very well, that's fair enough. If every one gives what they can
afford, you men will always have a place to go to when you're hurt or
laid up. So I put your name down, and you'll see it in the published
list. Now about the shearing, May. I consider that you've done your
work very well, and behaved very well all through. You're a fast
shearer, but you shear closely, and don't knock your sheep about. I
therefore do not charge you for any part of your meat bill, and I pay
you at the rate of half-a-crown a hundred for all your sheep, over and
above your agreement. Will that do?"
"Very well, indeed, and I'm much obliged to you, Mr Gordon."
"Well, good-bye May! Always call when you're passing, and if any work
is going on you'll get your share. Here's your cheque. Send in Lawson!"
Exit May, in high spirits, having cleared about three pounds per week,
during the whole term of shearing, and having lived a far from
unpleasant life, indeed akin to that of a fighting cock, from the
commencement to the end of that period.
Lawson's interview may be described as having very similar results. He,
also, was a first-class shearer, though not so artistic as the gifted
Billy. Jack Windsor's saucy blue eyes twinkled merrily as he returned
to his companions, and incontinently leaped on the back of his
wild-eyed colt. After these three worthies came a shearer named
Jackson; he belonged to quite a different class; he could shear very
well if he pleased, but had a rooted disbelief that honesty was the
best policy, and a fixed determination to shear as many sheep as he
could get the manager to pass. By dint of close watching, constant
reprimand, and occasional "raddling" (marking badly-shorn sheep and
refusing to count them) Mr Gordon had managed to tone him down to
average respectability of execution. Still he was always uneasily aware
that whenever his eye was not upon him, Jackson was doing what he ought
not to do with might and main. Gordon had, indeed, kept him on from
sheer necessity, but he intended none the less to mark his opinion of
him.
"Come in, Jackson! Your tally is so-and-so. Is that right?"
Jackson.--"I suppose so."
"Cook and store account, so much; shearing account so much."
Jackson.--"And a good deal too."
"That is your affair," said Mr Gordon, sternly enough. "Now look here!
You're in my opinion a bad shearer and a bad man. You have given me a
great deal of trouble, and I should have kicked you out of the shed
weeks ago if I had not been short of men. I shall make a difference
between you and men who have tried to do their best. I make you no
allowance of any sort, I pay you by the strict agreement. There's your
cheque. Go!"
Jackson goes out with a very black countenance. He mutters with a surly
oath that if "he'd known how he was going to be served he'd ha'
'blocked' 'em a little more." He is pretty well believed to have been
served right, and he secures no sympathy whatever. Working-men of all
classes are shrewd and fair judges generally. If an employer does his
best to mete out justice he is always appreciated and supported by the
majority. These few instances will serve as a description of the whole
process of settling with the shearers. The horses have all been got in.
Great catching and saddling-up has taken place all the morning. By the
afternoon the whole party are dispersed to the four winds; some, like
Abraham Lawson and his friends, to sheds "higher up," in a colder
climate, where shearing necessarily commences later. From these they
will pass to others, until the last sheep in the mountain runs are
shorn. Then those who have not farms of their own betake themselves to
reaping. Billy May and Jack Windsor are quite as ready to back
themselves against time in the wheat-field as on the shearing-floor.
Harvest over, they find their pockets inconveniently full, so they
commence to visit their friends and repay themselves for their toils by
a tolerably liberal allowance of rest and recreation.
Old Ben and a few choice specimens of the olden time get no further
than the nearest public house. Their cheques are handed to the landlord
and a "stupendous and terrible spree" sets in. At the end of a week he
informs them that they have received liquor to the amount of their
cheques--something over a hundred pounds--save the mark! They meekly
acquiesce, as is their custom. The landlord generously presents them
with a glass of grog each, and they take the road for the next
woolshed.
The shearers being despatched, the sheep-washers, a smaller and less
regarded force, file up. They number some forty men. Nothing more than
fair bodily strength, willingness and obedience being required in their
case, they are more easy to get and to replace than shearers. They are
a varied and motley lot. That powerful and rather handsome man is a New
Yorker, of Irish parentage. Next to him is a slight, neat, quiet
individual. He was a lieutenant in a line regiment. The lad in the rear
was a Sandhurst cadet. Then came two navvies and a New Zealander,
five Chinamen, a Frenchman, two Germans, Tin Pot, Jerry, and
Wallaby--three aboriginal blacks. There are no invidious distinctions
as to caste, colour, or nationality. Every one is a man and a brother
at sheep-washing. Wage, one pound per week; wood, water, tents and food
"A LA DISCRETION." Their accounts are simple: so many weeks, so many
pounds; store account, so much; hospital? well, five shillings; cheque,
good-morning.
The wool-pressers, the fleece-rollers, the fleece-pickers, the
yardsmen, the washers' cooks, the hut cooks, the spare shepherds; all
these and a few other supernumeraries inevitable at shearing-time,
having been paid off, the snowstorm of cheques which has been
fluttering all day comes to an end. Mr Gordon and the remaining
"sous-officiers" go to rest that night with much of the mental strain
removed which has been telling on every waking moment for the last two
months.
The long train of drays and wagons, with loads varying from twenty to
forty-five bales, has been moving off in detachments since the
commencement. In a day or two the last of them will have rolled heavily
away. The 1400 bales, averaging three and a half hundredweight, are
distributed, slow journeying, along the road, which they mark from
afar, standing huge and columnar like guide tumuli, from Anabanco to
the waters of the Murray. Between the two points there is neither a
hill nor a stone. All is the vast monotonous sea of plain--at this
season a prairie-meadow exuberant with vegetation; in the late summer,
or in the occasional and dreaded phenomenon of a DRY WINTER, dusty, and
herbless as a brickfield, for hundreds of miles.
Silence falls on the plains and waters of Anabanco for the next six
months. The woolshed, the washpen, and all the huts connected with them
are lone and voiceless as caravanserais in a city of the plague.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Shearing in the Riverina, New South
Wales, by Rolf Boldrewood
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHEARING IN THE RIVERINA ***
***** This file should be named 4221.txt or 4221.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
https://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/2/4221/
Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
https://gutenberg.org/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
[email protected]. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at https://pglaf.org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit https://pglaf.org
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
https://www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
