Marshall Smith

Portrait of Marshall Smith: In the fencing camps we all chipped in to help with the work. In those days the station required the fences to be erected with wooden posts because they could not afford the steel pickets to put on their fences. This meant using a crow bar to dig the post-hole. I was seven years old and I used to dig my post holes up to my arm’s length and leave it for the older people to finish. Fencing came easily because we did it as a family thing. So mum and the ladies would run the wires through the wooden post. It was very hard work for them because the holes were never drilled straight in line with the fence direction, but they never had access to a good workshop with a drill press, so the men would stand with this brace and bit [manual drill tool]. We erected fences on Mount Stuart and Red Hill Stations during 1955-56. We erected all of the original fences on Juna Downs, the boundary, the lot. I had the greatest opportunity to learn as much as I could about working with horses because many of my family members assisted me. I idolised my brother and uncle because they seemed to be so good at everything when working with stock, from the age of eight I wanted to be like them. They never seemed to fear anything, rough horses was their recreation, they competed to see who was going to ride the roughest horse. Most Aboriginal stockmen were natural horseman, not only riding the rough horse, they were natural with handling stock. They were natural with breaking horses. In general most everyone knew how to tame a horse, ride a horse. I didn’t make much money but I loved every day of it, and everybody had plenty to eat so we were quite happy, it was great fun. Every day something happened…I certainly miss it, but it’s a passing era. I loved pretty much everything; there is nothing that I would change if I went back into it again. I think I’d just live the same life. I enjoyed probably every day, and especially when I was a jackaroo. Now it’s pretty dull around the place not getting chased by a bull any more! Sometimes I wish you could turn that clock back a bit.