Gents Mag 1899 part 2 p.543
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Gentleman's Magazine 1899 part 2 p.543
other ailments. The smell of strong disinfectant lingers about the place, with that of tobacco and ale, so that the air becomes almost rancid if no breeze is stirring. A sheep-washing is the most picturesque of all fell-land events. The restless sheep waiting to undergo their dipping, the sheep-dog Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of instinct, Walking from side to side with a lordly air and superbly Waving his bushy tail ... ... the shepherds, heaving the sheep into the water or, waist-deep, standing there to catch them, the intent groups turning the animals over to examine their feet for the hated "rot," the released sheep spreading out over the wide hillside, with clean fleeces contrasting strongly against the green, and above all the great green hills and crags echoing back the occasional bark, the frequent bleat, the murmur of conversation. While the washing is going on, opportunity is taken to give the lambs the mark of the branding iron, and to see that the older sheep are correctly marked. Fell sheep are branded with their owners' initial burnt into hoof or horn - the farms differing in the location of these marks according to the rules of the dale. The usual tar fleece-mark is palpably of little use on an animal which is constantly wandering or lying among moisture-beaded tussocks of grass or soaking patches of heather and bracken. The iron is now seldom used for marking the face of the sheep, but ear-punching has frequently to be resorted to for distinction of flocks. On the day following the washing, the shearers take up their work, and very rapidly they do it. According to unwritten law, the day after shearing is over is given up to sports. These are as in the days of "Chistopher North" and the Lakeland Poets, who frequently joined in with the dalesmen. Everyone tries his hand at wrestling, and some ludicrous contest take place. A couple of white-haired veterans get up to decide the victor in some bout which ended in a draw half a century ago. A ring is formed, a referee chosen, and the contest begins. They prance around, get holds and slip them a dozen times, then settle to work. After a good deal of struggling they topple over, the worthy underneath averring that he stumbled over a tussock of grass or slipped on a stone. "else he was just gahen to bring him ower t' buttock." The referee's decision is disputed, and, egged on by their laughing partisans, the lower challenges the other to another bout. "Na, na, lad, ah've licked the' fair enew." After "t' clippin'" the routine of the shepherd's work begins |
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