I have a story of pioneer farming woman in the Strathewen area. I heard of this story, many years ago and it has stuck firmly in my memory bank ever since. I believe the event was told in a book by an Arthurs Creek man. I would like to give that long gone man, the credit for recording the incident, unfortunately I can’t. I have no idea of his name I don’t think he would mind me retelling his experience with this pioneer woman.
Farming in that area at that time was dependent on everyone working for the benefit of all. Giving all families a hand in everything including helping with illness and even childbirth. The story teller, was himself a farmer and also took his produce to the Melbourne market. This marketing was a communal effort, with any produce, collected from any and all other farmers in the valley. Taken to market I suppose it would be hens and eggs, sheep and lambs, as they became available for sale. Maybe apples, as the area is now great orchard country .
As I understand it, anyone going to the market, also took any one else’s produce. This meant, picking up any goods for sale, from all over the Strathewen valley and Arthurs Creek area, from the valley to the ranges.
On this occasion, he had to pick up produce from a small farm in the base of the Ranges. It was summer and a good day, when he started off, along the tree lined dirt road, beside the small creek . Towards this small shack farmplace at the foot of the Range .
As he neared the small house, the weather changed rapidly. The clouds rolled in. The day quickly went from a sunny day to a violent thunderstorm. He was expected, to pick up what they had to market, and was warmly welcomed and sat down to a meal.
The lightning continued with constant brattles of thunder. As evening wore on the storm continued unabated. Torrential rain, inches fell. Within a short time the small creek was flooded, running a banker .
On the dirt road to the place, were two wood deck bridges, which could be at risk. Parts of the wood decking could be lifted and swept away.
The man and wife agreed, it would be too risky, taking a horse and laden cart, on that road that night, darkness falling and the creek in spate.
While the man thought it would be safe enough to take to the flooded sodden road, the pair insisted, he stay the night in their small home .
I think, this man was a farmer and also a pailing splitter. Maybe that was what they had for sale.
The kero lamp was lit and it was arranged, the lady of the house, would give up her bed and sleep in the kitchen living room. There were only two rooms in the small house. So the two men retired, to the sound of heavy rain. Slept in wonderful comfort beneath comfortable blankets .
Morning came and as with all of us humans, nature calls. The man got out of bed to go to the dunny. It was still half light as he crept as silently as he could through the living area past the sleeping woman.
As he came back inside he had to pass the foot of the bed. As he passed the sleeping woman, he saw two bare feet, sticking out at the bottom of the bed , but not from under blankets. No, he realised this woman was sleeping, lying under a roll of gum tree bark. With her feet exposed to the cold morning air.
He then realised this woman had given up her marriage bed to sleep, maybe with a blanket, but under bark cover, so he, the guest, could sleep comfortably. Most likely that bark was from a tree cut by her husband for palings splitting .
I am sure he would thank that woman. I hope they got a good price for whatever they had for sale. I related this event to a meeting, including many young women.
I could tell they didn’t believe a word of it. Thought it was something from Grimms fairy tales. These young women now live in a world of plenty, Credit cards and buy now pay later, interest free for a year.
From seeing photos of pioneer, axe cut, wood slab houses I believe it absolutely, When you have very little and try to make a go of things . You use what you have available. I believe with women, anything is possible .
I hope that area’s historical society has the book by the original writer in their archive collection to verify this story. Matt
Photo: State Library Victoria
