We used to shear in the hot days of summer when the “grease”(lanolin) was high. The fleeces were supposed to be heavier. I don’t know if that is true.
I tied fleeces for a shearing crew for a couple of summers and I don’t know if the grease is higher in the summer than in the winter, but I suspect that it is.
I do know that wearing leather shoes or boots and handling the fleeces, with the lanolin and dirt in the wool, ruined the leather. Fortunately, Pops told me to wear tennis shoes before I started working for Tug, the shearing crew boss. These were the black tennis shoes with the round ball on the side. They were tied with a shoestring and not secured with Velcro. The “Tenny Runners” we all had for Gym class. I threw them away at the end of the season.
We had a new hand doing the wool tromping, and he didn’t pay any attention to the warnings of Tug. He didn’t believe me nor anyone else that told him he should wear tennis shoes. He bought tennis shoes our first day off.
Years later, I wrangled sheep for the shearing crew at the Dogie. They boarded themselves, sleeping, and cooking in military surplus tents set up in the barnyard. The tents were heavy tarp with a few small windows and an opening at one end.
The shearers were provided with all the mutton they needed which they prepared. They had a nicely set-up kitchen tent. The cook was a retired shearer, and I think he was the boss of the crew, who was well respected. He always had a kind word to say. He was also pretty straight forward and knew everything that was going on.
One of the younger shearers always had a knife on his belt and he was proud of it. He spent quite a lot of time sharpening it, admiring it and telling anyone who would listen what a great knife it was and how good he was with it.
Anytime he had the slightest excuse, he used it. He chopped kindling. If a rope or a string needed cut, he was there, knife in hand. He threw it and stuck it in wooden posts, just to handle it or maybe he was showing off.
All the shearers I’ve worked around had a strict order of seniority, as did this crew. The faster shearer was at the head of the crew. The second fastest was next and so on down the line. I’m not sure how many sheep the top hand sheared in a day on that crew, but it wasn’t unusual for the good ones to shear 200 or more a day.
This fellow was very close to the lower end and was trying hard to become better. But his endless talking about his knife and how good he was with it got on everyone’s nerves.
I don’t remember who came up with the idea to scare the be-jabbers out of him, nor do I remember who happened to tell someone of the stuffed mountain lion in the hayloft. I do remember bringing it down from the hayloft, and helping set it up in the dark tent.
Even at noon, the canvas tent was quite dark inside, especially coming in from the bright sunlight. Apparently there was a pecking order for sleeping as well as for shearing. The young fellows’ bunk was near the back of the tent with very little light except from the canvas door in the front that was usually closed or hanging partly open. Whoever set the stuffed mountain lion in the tent put it among the suitcases, laundry bags and such, where it wouldn’t be seen until you were past it, which happened to be near the young fellow’s bed.
The cook rang his dinner bell and everyone ate. After the meal, the shearers usually took a short rest and laid on their bunks. For some reason, very few went into the tent that particular day. We all watched as the young man went into the tent.
It was pretty quiet for a short time and then…… WHOOP!!, a knife cut a five-foot slit in the back of the tent where there hadn’t been a door before and through it came the young fellow, yelling, wide-eyed, knife in hand and at the ready.
The cook calmed him down and talked with him as they walked away. We never saw nor heard of the knife again.
RIDE EASY PARDS…..Vic
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