West by Southwest Ernie Bulow

from May 2019 Gallup Journey Magazine

by Gallup Journey

Event Calendar

IT ISN’T NICE TO TELL SHEEPHERDER JOKES

FREDERIC REMINGTON DREW THIS SHEEPHERDER IN 1888.

SHEARING IN THE CORRAL

Around here, a hundred and fifty sheep are considered a big herd. Though herds are getting smaller, they are still a fairly common sight. Wave to a herder sitting in the meagre shade of a cedar tree while his scruffy mutts lie on the shoulder of the road, watching the cars go by. Traditionally, herders were family members but sometimes they hired an old man who got a dollar a day, board and room, and socks when the old ones wore out.

“Bush Boys” are much less common than in the early days of boarding schools. A bush boy was a member of the family they kept home to herd the sheep; a lousy job but somebody had to do it. Often, they wouldn’t learn English or cultural niceties. The BIA had no way of knowing how many children were in a given family.

Ever since Coronado vacationed in New Mexico, sheep have been an important part of the economy. In late spring there is the wool to sell, in the late fall, the lambs. Some of the wool was woven, some of the lambs (ewes that have stopped lambing) eaten. A lot easier than deer hunting.

The Navajos used to practice transhumance, moving stock from place to place with the seasons as they followed the grass and water. Zunis and Hopis have sheep camps, often miles from villages. I know people who still take their sheep up into the mountains in the summer.

In most parts of the country, they graze livestock by how many can be supported on an acre of grass. In the Southwest it is acres per animal, not the other way around.

Herding sheep is a day job in the Southwest. The sheep go out in the morning, come home toward late afternoon. I have known a small flock that herded themselves, coming and going without help. One thing certain to bring them home is the need for a cool sip of water. In many places it was hauled from windmill to the house in fifty-five-gallon drums. Zunis and Hopis located their sheep camps near springs, but these days one after another, the springs have gone dry.

Shearing is still a difficult, time-consuming, and boring job. One early observer described Natives using scissors, knives, and even tin can lids. I tried shearing one time and my hand pooped out pretty fast. It is hard work.

Ernie’s Selfie

West by Southwest

by Ernie Bulow

Only someone taking part can appreciate the little things, like hundreds of ticks and other critters under the wool.

There are rules for the shearer as well. A good cut is getting the whole fleece off in one piece, not pieces. Points added for getting all the wool, points subtracted for nicking the animal. For the most part, those big shears are still used, but I recently came across an early photo of a mechanically driven shearing machine at Zuni.

The next job is “dipping” the sheep. Once the fleece is off and the bugs liberated, owners make the animals swim down a long trough to kill at least some of the insects. This was

once one of those community events that drew people together for a day or two.

There is an old saying around here, “Use every part of the sheep but the bleat.” [also known as the baa]. One valuable item may be of surprise. Sheep poop. Once upon a time corrals were constructed by sinking cedar posts into the ground touching one another, usually in a circle. Before wire, limber poles could be laced between the upper parts to give the thing some strength. Cedar is rot resistant, so corrals of great age can be seen. Some of those old corrals are not much bigger than a bedroom, and when they have been used for many years, the sheep manure can be feet thick. This is valuable stuff because it can be taken up (like peat) in stackable chunks, it burns hot and lends itself to firing pottery. Nice that it is good for something, but I don’t recommend barbecuing with it.

In recent years the herds at Zuni are disappearing, mainly because of the dropping water table. Drought also diminishes the grass, though sheep, like deer, have become browsers as much as grazers. Sheep will eat most any kind of vegetation. A good spring brings out the tumbleweeds, and the young plants will make sheep sick if they eat too much.

Goats are even more adaptable and are seen climbing cedar trees to get the young needles. Most varieties in our “pygmy forest” are edible.

Some years ago the government gassed a bunch of sheep in Utah, then they blamed it on halogeton, a plant native to Russia. There is a theory the Russians spread the seeds from the air, knowing its properties. It is especially deadly to sheep. To make it even worse, the plant makes the soil toxic to native vegetation. Most AngloAmericans don’t like the taste of mutton or goat. I don’t know why. For the most part, they don’t care for deer, elk, moose, and other game either. To show disdain for antelope, in the West they are called goats.

Sheepherder jokes are off limits.