by A B Facey
Wickepin was our nearest town and Mr Kent went there for stores every two weeks and sometimes he let me go with him.
In September the shearers came to shear the sheep. In those days shearing was done by hand with wide bladed shears like big scissors. This time there were three shearers and they sheared about three hundred a day between them. Mr Kent showed me how to class wool and throw it so it would fall spread out over a special wool-table.
In November that year, Mr Kent got leave to go to South Australia for a trip and said he would be away for six weeks, including Christmas. He asked me if I thought that I could look after the place while he was away. When I said that I could he asked. ‘Are you sure? Because if you have any doubts about it I will employ someone to stay with you.’ I assured him that I felt sure of myself and that I felt terribly important – manager of a big property like that – the sheep flock had increased to over two thousand with the lambs. So Mr Kent came to me about a week later and said he was leaving the next day. I drove him to Wickepin to catch the train. He was going to Fremantle and from there by boat to Port Adelaide.
Mr Kent wasn’t one that could be called a talker – he said very little – and I never asked him anything of his business because if he wished to tell me, he would. At Wickepin that day, just before he got on the train he said, ‘Now Bert, look after things while I’m away. You are in full charge and when I come back I will have two big surprises for you.’ With that he departed.
I got some supplies from the store – tinned meat and tinned milk, jam, sugar, baking-powder, flour and some small tidbits. I had some lunch after feeding the horses. They were two lovely horses – Mr Kent always used two horses in a buggy when making a trip to Wickepin. It was sixteen miles away so the return trip of thirty-two miles in one day was a full day’s work for them. On the way back home I wondered what the two surprises were. I couldn’t think what they would be.
During the absence of Mr Kent I was kept busy. The weather was becoming very hot and I had to watch out for flies, as fly strike to the ewes was bad at that time of the year, and we had some twelve hundred ewes. I had to yard the sheep every week and spray them with oil. Mr Kent called it whale oil. It kept the flies off because they didn’t like it.
We had two good sheep dogs and they were the only company I had while Mr Kent was away. I always tied them up when I went to town for supplies, but at home they followed me everywhere and were real pals. They were black kelpies, both males.
Just before Christmas Day I had a visitor – Jack Lander – and what a thrill it was. He was the man who had been a witness to the cattle stealing while I was working for Mr Bibby and who had given me the books for schooling. He wanted me to go to his place, about seven miles away, for Christmas dinner. He stayed and had lunch with me. While I would have liked to go for Christmas dinner I had to refuse, because I had promised Mr Kent that I wouldn’t leave the place except to get stores. We had a long chat about the past and he was thrilled when I told him that I was in charge of the property. He remarked, ‘Fancy a lad of sixteen years being manager.’ I felt a thrill from his remark, and when he finally left to go back to his place he said that he would have liked me to come for Christmas dinner, but as I had promised not to leave the place he understood and admired me for sticking to my word.
The days, then weeks went by. I had a quiet Christmas. I got a pound tin of Christmas pudding and a pound tin of ham and that was all I bothered with. The quietness didn’t trouble me – I liked it and being kept so busy helped. I had three windmills to look after as well as the boundary fence and the sheep.
About every eight days I had to change the sheep into a fresh paddock. They were divided into two flocks – the ewes and lambs in one paddock and the dry sheep (non-breeders) and rams in another. The property was fenced into seven paddocks and the sheep were rotated, so that the grass and scrub could make new shoots and be much nicer and fresher when the sheep were put back.
Time had passed quickly. It was now the middle of January 1911. I went to Wickepin for stores, and there was a letter there from Mr Kent to tell me that he would be returning to Wickepin on the last Saturday in January. I was to meet him with the buggy.
So on that Saturday I got the first of the two surprises. Mr Kent brought back a wife with him. He hadn’t mentioned anything about it to me before. The first thing that came to my mind when he told me that the lady was his wife was, ‘I hope she can cook.’ She was tall and had a dark complexion – a good-looking woman about twenty-five years old and beautifully dressed, with the largest hat I had ever seen. The brim must have been three feet wide. Mr Kent fussed around her and every second word was ‘darling’ or ‘ducky’. They went to the hotel for their lunch (Wickepin now had a hotel). I had my lunch at the usual place, the Coffee Palace.
After lunch I hitched the two horses to the buggy and drove to the station, where I got six large travelling bags (trunks). Then I went back to the hotel where the bride and groom were waiting. After getting an extra list of stores we set off for home. I drove all the way – he was too busy hugging and squeezing his bride. He told me that they had only been married a fortnight and the trip from South Australia was their honeymoon. They told me that a railway van was on its way from Perth with their furniture and that a carrier from Wickepin would bring it out as soon as it arrived. I had never seen so much hugging, kissing and lovey-doveying in my life. I thought it was sickening. I was very shy where girls were concerned.
The next few days I didn’t see much of Mrs Kent. Mr Kent came with me to see the sheep and had a good look around. He complimented me on the way I had looked after the place and the stock. He told me that the big bosses – the Tindle brothers and Mr Coad – were coming for a holiday in about a week’s time. They wanted to have a look around and do a little hunting and duck-shooting. Mr Kent said, ‘They will be delighted with you, Bert. You’ve done a mighty job while I was away and they’ll see that you get something for being so thorough.’
The furniture arrived and I helped put it into place. Then, a few days later, the Kents went to Wickepin and came home that night with the big bosses. I got my first disappointment with these people. I was told that I would have to have my meals alone in the kitchen. Up to then I had always been one of the family, but all at once I wasn’t good enough to eat with them. Mr Kent himself was an employee, the same as me, and before he got his wife he always took me places with him. Now I wasn’t good enough. This hurt me and made me mad.
I kept away as much as possible. I had the two dogs and my work, ‘So,’ I thought, ‘what do I care about those snobs.’ That Saturday they all went into Wickepin. They took the buggy and didn’t come home until Sunday afternoon. They didn’t tell me where they were going or anything about it. I don’t suppose they thought about me. This was one of the loneliest times of my life.
A few days later Mr Coad told me that, because I had done such a good job while Mr Kent was away, they had decided to pay me manager’s wages during Mr Kent’s absence. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you will get the same wages as Kent for those eight weeks.’ He then asked me how I liked the job and I said that before Mr Kent went away to get married it was all I could wish for, but since then it hadn’t been so good. I said, ‘Mr Kent seems to think that getting married places him above other people and I feel that I’ve been let down. I didn’t think a wife could change a man so quickly. We used to share and share alike but now I feel as if I have been graded down to the level of the dogs.’
The manager’s wage was, I found out, the second of the surprises that Mr Kent had spoken about before he went away.
The Tindles and Mr Coad finished their holiday and left. Then, about the end of March, Mrs Kent’s brother arrived from South Australia. It appears that it was arranged by Mr Kent when he was over there, that he was to come over and work on the farm. I thought then that maybe this was why I was being treated so badly.
Mrs Kent was the worst cook for a woman I had ever met. After she came, the food – w
hich had never been good – was awful. Our menu each day was: breakfast – cold boiled mutton, lunch – stew (sometimes she would fry mutton chops), evening meal – cold boiled mutton. This went on day after day and often the cold mutton would be fly-blown.
The first Saturday in April the Kents were going to Wickepin for stores. Now that Mrs Kent’s brother (his name was Stamp) was staying, they always took him with them. I asked if I could go but Mr Kent said, ‘If you want to go you can ride your horse in on your own.’ I wasn’t getting along too good with Stamp and I suppose that was the reason. Or it could have been that they thought I wasn’t good enough to ride with them. Mrs Kent used to fuss over Stamp. He was useless as a farm-hand and very lazy.
On the Saturday I saddled Scarlet, the horse that I always rode around the farm, and was leading him out of the paddock ready to set off for town, when Mr Kent asked me to harness the two buggy horses for him. I hooked Scarlet’s reins over a post while I fixed the horses into the buggy. Suddenly I heard a horse moving off into a wild gallop. Looking out into the yard I saw Scarlet galloping around madly with Stamp trying to hold onto the saddle. Then all at once the horse pitched him over a fence into a big clump of scrub. I ran over to Scarlet, patted him on the neck and hooked the reins over the post again. When I got to Stamp he was still lying on the ground. He didn’t seem to be hurt although he was moaning and complaining about his arm and shoulder. I got him up on his feet and he said that, as he was getting into the saddle to ride around the yard (he had never been on a horse before), a large sheet of newspaper had wrapped itself around Scarlet’s hind legs and made him kick and buck. I told Stamp that he had no right touching the horse, and for doing so he deserved to be thrown. He hurried over to the house holding his shoulder.
After awhile Mr Kent came out and said that I must not talk to Stamp the way that I had. Then the first harsh words came between us. I told him that if Stamp didn’t stop interfering with the horses, especially Scarlet, I would put his nose out. Mr Kent just walked away. I coupled the horses to the buggy and drove it over to the house for them to go to town in. Then Mrs Kent came out and called me a brute and said that I didn’t know how to speak to a gentleman. I tied the horses to the rail just outside of the house and walked away. I didn’t say a word to her. I got Scarlet and rode off to town. I knew that my days were nearing an end as far as the Kents were concerned. I made up my mind to look for another job.
Well, that is the way of life. You think you know a person then some small thing happens: one day a manager, next day a tramp.
Arriving at Wickepin, I stabled Scarlet then went for a walk. Wickepin now had two general stores, two banks, one hotel, a hairdresser’s shop and a tailor’s shop. The hairdresser was a very popular man and he got to know everybody. I called in and had a haircut, and while he was cutting my hair he asked me how my job was going. I explained how things were since Mr Kent had got married. I said, ‘At the moment I think I am very unpopular.’ I told him about Stamp and that I was looking for another job.
He stopped cutting my hair and said, ‘There’s a man in town looking for someone. He’s from the Goldfields. He and his brother have taken up land thirty-five miles east of here in the Jitarning District. He doesn’t know anything about wheat and sheep farming and is willing to pay good wages to a man to come and work for him and show him how to go about it. It should be just the job for you. He is staying at the pub.’ I asked what the man’s name was. The hairdresser said, ‘Let me think. His first name is Richard. The barman told me – you go and ask him.’
I went to the hotel and the barman told me that the man’s name was Rigoll and gave me his room number. I went to the room and told Mr Rigoll that I had heard about him wanting a man who knew how to go about turning virgin land into a wheat and sheep farm. He said, ‘That’s what I want. Do you know where I can get such a man?’ This made me a little narked, then I realised that I was only young and he wouldn’t have thought that I was applying for the job myself. When I told him of my experience he sat up and became very interested. He had heard about my uncle being one of the pioneers of modern wheat and sheep farming in the Wickepin District. He asked when I could start if he employed me. I said that my boss would be in town that day and I would see him when he arrived. I told Mr Rigoll that I wanted to leave my job because I didn’t get on with my boss’s wife and brother, and that I would have to give a week’s notice.
Mr Rigoll said, ‘I will go with you and have a talk with him. He may let you go straightaway. It is thirty-five miles to our property and it’s pretty wild country. My wife and three small children are out there on their own in tents and I can’t leave them alone for a whole week.’ We both walked out onto the footpath of the hotel and I saw the Kents drive into the back of the hotel. I introduced them to Mr Rigoll and said to Mr Kent, ‘I’ll go and fix the horses for you. Mr Rigoll would like to discuss something with you.’ Mrs Kent and Stamp walked away into the hotel.
Mr Rigoll explained his position and Mr Kent agreed to let me go without a week’s notice. I heard later that he had told Mr Rigoll, ‘You will find it hard to get anyone better than Bert for the job you want doing. I’ll give you a written reference if you like.’ Mr Kent came to me – I had just finished unharnessing the horses and stabling them – and told me that I was welcome to take the new job. He admitted that I hadn’t been treated very well since Stamp came. ‘But,’ he said, ‘he is my wife’s brother.’
Mr Rigoll told me that I had the job and my wages would start from Monday. He would pay me three pounds a week and keep. I said that I would have to go out to the Kent’s to get my things and he agreed to drive out with me that afternoon and camp there the night. The next morning we would go straight to Mr Rigoll’s property. Mr Rigoll said that if we got an early start we would make it home the same night. He had a very fine horse and a light spring-cart, and only a light load.
The Kents got home about six o’clock and they invited my new boss in to dinner. I was also asked into the dining-room for dinner which surprised me. Mr Kent paid me off after dinner. After a while my new boss and I excused ourselves and said goodbye as we wanted to get an early start. Then I got another surprise. Mrs Kent said for me to make some breakfast for Mr Rigoll and myself in her kitchen in the morning, and to help myself to whatever I wanted. She said goodbye and wished me luck. I shook hands all around and even Stamp wished me good luck.
39
SOLID ADVICE
It was seven o’clock next morning when we left. I had made Dick (Mr Rigoll told me to call him that) and myself a good breakfast of bacon and eggs. The Kents were still in bed when we set off.
We travelled very well, allowing the horse to walk on the upgrade sections and he trotted at a fast gait down hill. The horse’s name was Boxer – he was a beautiful animal and trotted along like he knew he was going home. Dick said that he thought we had about forty miles to go.
The weather was nice and cool. We reached the Rabbit Proof Fence and turned south along it. (The fence had been built by the Government from coast to coast to try to protect the inner wheat-belt from damage by rabbits.) There was a good dirt track along the side of the fence. This was used by the boundary riders who rode along each day to see that the fence wasn’t damaged and passable to rabbits. We came to a boundary riders’ hut where there was water, so we rested Boxer for two hours and gave him a drink and a feed. Dick said we were more than halfway home.
We set off again at half past two by Dick’s watch, and an hour later we came to the eighty-mile gate. From there it was sixteen miles to our destination. We travelled east letting Boxer take it easier.
We arrived just before sundown. Mrs Rigoll and the kids ran to meet us. Dick had three children – two boys and a girl. They were living in two tents with a covered area between them – a large tarpaulin swung over a ridge pole stretching from one tent to the other. They used the tents for sleeping in and had their meals under the tarpaulin.
Dick and I were very tired. Mrs Rigol
l had a lovely beef stew cooked and we enjoyed it. She said, ‘I’m worried about where you’re going to sleep.’ I said, ‘Don’t you worry about me. I’ll spread some bags on the floor here under this tarpaulin and put my rugs on them, and before you say “knife” I’ll be asleep. We can arrange something more permanent tomorrow.’
As soon as we finished dinner I helped Mrs Rigoll to clear the table and wash up the dishes. Dick got me about four empty bags and I made up my bed at the back of the tarpaulin. Then, after I had talked to Dick and his wife for awhile, they retired to their tent.
The next thing I knew it was daylight. I got up straight away and in a few minutes Dick was up and out. He said, ‘You seem like an early riser Bert.’ I said, ‘Yes, I am.’ We went for a walk around the property near the tents. Dick explained as we walked that they (he and his brother Len) had taken up three thousand acres of conditional purchase land and they each had a homestead block of one hundred and sixty acres. All of it was first class land and the average rainfall was from twelve to fifteen inches per annum.
‘Now Bert.’ Dick said, ‘what do you think is the most important thing to do first, or the three or four more urgent things? Of course you will want some time to think about it.’ I started to consider the problem. I could see that Dick had been carting water and I asked him where he got it from. He replied that he carted it from a dam about four miles away – one hundred gallons at a time, which he put into a two-hundred-gallon tank near the camp. The tank was standing on two heavy cases about eighteen inches from the ground. It had a tap on it for Mrs Rigoll to turn off and on when she wanted water. As we walked back to camp Dick said he would have to go for some water tomorrow. Mrs Rigoll then called us for breakfast and while we were eating Dick asked me if I formed any ideas.
‘Well.’ I said, ‘first we should get a permanent water supply on the property and I have an idea. Do you know anyone who will lend you a single-furrow garden plough, a quarter-yard scoop and three good strong horses with their harness and three sets of chains?’ Dick thought for awhile and then said, ‘Yes, one of our neighbours has a plough and some horses, and some others – the Lewis Brothers – have a scoop. What do you propose to do?’ I said, ‘Put a dam down in the valley.’ (The valley was little more than a hundred yards from the camp and it started from the foot of a granite hill and ran down into a creek which was about half a mile below the camp.) My idea was to sink the dam in the valley, almost opposite the camp where it would have a catchment about a quarter of a mile long. It was an ideal spot. I explained this to Dick and said that we must get onto it before we got too much winter rain. Dick said he would go and see the neighbours.