Chapter XLI.

Next morning we had fricasseed chicken for breakfast.

Now, without going the length that David went when he 'said in his haste, All men are liars,' I yet incline to the belief that many men are painfully economical of truth and fearfully lavish with the other thing; and that our Oamaru landlord was one of these.

'Game uns?' I observed inquiringly, as I with difficulty lifted a bare drumstick with my knife and fork.

'Yes,' said our landlord, unblushingly, 'that's another of 'em. The missis and me killed him last night, when you was at the play.'

'Well,' remarked Our Basso, his nose 'tip-tilted like the petal of a flower' in aversion from his plate, 'for a fresh-killed fowl, he has the "most ancient and fish-like smell" it was ever my lot to inhale.'

That evening at dinner two roosters again graced the big dish.

'They can't be the same, and yet they're singularly like,' page 265said Our Tenor thoughtfully, as we all took a smell at the dish and then blew our noses.

'Game uns?' said Our Basso.

'Yes, sir,' said our landlord.

'Good heavens' said Our Basso then, plaintively, 'and have you been saving these also for three months?'—'Yes, sir.'

'My dear friend, you won't mind my giving you a little good advice, I'm sure.'—'Cert'ny, sir.'

'Then never serve up "game uns" that have been saved up less than six months to anybody. You are a young man in this business probably; I am an aged and experienced traveller, and I assure you that it is simply waste—profligate waste—to cook "game uns" that have only been dead three months. It would be against my principle to abet you in your sinful mistake. Would you ask the missis to grill me a chop?'

The 'missis' was cook in this establishment, as the master was waiter.

'I dessay chops will be better for you,' said our landlord, pityingly, but with an evident effort at satire. 'The missis said she thought you looked indigestible.'

Seeing Our Basso's success, we all followed suit with a request for chops, but there were only two in the house, and these Our Easso calmly appropriated. There was nothing of the principle of Communism in Our Basso, except when other fellows had the goods.

There was a division of opinion in our camp as to our next move. Our Agent was for going south as far as Palmerston, and then cutting across country to the Dunstan gold-fields. Our Basso wanted to go north, taking Waimate and other minor outlying townships before Timaru. After considerable argument the matter was finally settled by vote in favour of Our Agent's proposition, and next day we went to Palmerston. Generally speaking, Our Agent travelled in advance of us, of course; but owing to the delay in settling our route in this instance, we all travelled together, and so had two idle days in Palmerston while the Itinerant Show was being advertised. We beguiled the hours of the first day by sticking our own page 266bills, the Palmerston billsticker in ordinary being 'on the burst.' On the second day we climbed Mount Pukutapu, which is supposed to be only 400 feet in height, but which Our Basso and I most firmly believed when we were climbing to be 400 miles at a moderate computation. Once at the top, however, we decided that the 'game was worth the candle,' for the view was magnificent. Dunedin Heads scarce seemed half a dozen miles distant, Waikouairi Heads almost within hail, and Oamaru Heads, lying to the north, hazy, beautiful, and wonderfully nigh. Looking westward, we beheld a noble expanse of undulating country, with here and there a sharp lofty peak pointing like a solemn finger skyward. The setting sun tinted all with hues of rose and gold, and a soft grey creeping mist lent a tender aspect to the spots that lay in shadow.

The Palmerston district is rich in minerals; copper, coal, and lime being very plentiful there. We found the people exceedingly pleasant and genial, and spent our off nights most agreeably with some of them. We met a man there who knew our Oamaru landlord; and from him incidentally we learned the secret of those 'game uns.' About a fortnight previously to our visit to Oamaru, our landlord had received orders to prepare a banquet for the football club, who were playing a match with other footballers from Dunedin. Owing to some mismanagement, they never appeared for the banquet, and so our landlord had all the edibles left on his hands to use up as best he could without loss. Further comment is unnecessary.

We did fair business at Palmerston for two nights, and then started for Naseby, under the able captaincy of an excellent coachdriver and most entertaining companion. The coach was crowded, for there were several other passengers besides the Itinerant Show, and a large quantity of luggage. I managed to cheat Our Basso out of the box-seat he had set his mind upon, and travelled very comfortably, though closely packed between the driver on one side and a thin young aristocrat and a stout commercial traveller on the other. The chief characteristic of the commercial traveller throughout that journey was a tendency to 'sign a paper,' as he expressed it, at every wayside page 267refreshment house, a ceremony at which the driver was invariably called on to assist. I was a good deal puzzled about this signing arrangement at first, but when, at the invitation of the commercial man, I too went in to 'sign,' I recognised the whole thing at once. It was a very familiar operation; I had often assisted at it in Australia, only there we always called it 'taking the oath.' After that we 'signed' frequently—that is three of us did; the aristocrat would not join, although the friendly commercial man more than once asked him to 'name it.'

Just before we reached Waihemo, a flock of Maori hens started out from a bunch of tussock and went scudding and piping across the road.

'What are they?' inquired the aristocrat, with languid curiosity.

'Maori hens,' said the driver.

'Hens! Are there no male birds among them, then?'

'Oh yes, plenty.'

'Then why do you call them hens, without distinction?'

'Can't say, sir,' replied the driver, slowly and thoughtfully, 'unless it is because they belong to the weaker' (Weka) 'tribe,' Weka is the native name of the bird, but the aristocrat did not know that, so the joke was lost upon him. It nearly cost the commercial traveller his life, however, for in his agony of laughter he pitched forward over the splashboard, and it took all I could do to haul him in off the horses' haunches, and clap his back until he recovered. He did not get quite over it until we readied Waihemo and signed another paper.

Waihemo consists of a house, store, and hotel all in one, and flourishes on coach passengers who stay there for lunch, and the needs of neighbouring settlers. Leaving Waihemo, the driver pointed out to us the Jenny Lind Peak, and told us the story of its baptism. How the very first settler in the district came there on his prospecting trip riding a favourite mare named after his favourite cantatrice, Jenny Lind. Miss Jenny took leave of absence on the first night of encampment and lost herself among the mountains. Her master sought her diligently for two days, and on the evening of the second, found her comfortably ensconced in a hollow behind the page 268highest peak in the neighbourhood, where he, being utterly fatigued, camped with her till morning, and then named the peak after her.

Our road over and through that group of mountains called 'The Brothers' was painfully steep and rough, and common humanity demanded that we men should relieve the horses a little by walking. We passed two tiny tents belonging to road-makers, and were a good deal amused to see their week's supply of mutton stuck at the top of the tent poles. It was an ingenious idea, and served two purposes, that of keeping the meat sweet and that of keeping it out of the reach of dogs, of which the road-makers had several. One spot in this route is called Bob Egan's Camp, for the reason that one Bob Egan camped compulsorily there in a waggon for eight days in the snow.

Pigroot, the next settlement, takes its name from the circumstance of its districts having been at one time a mighty rooting ground for some of Captain Cook's pigs. The first settlers had to fill up and level the ground before they could build. As far as we could see in the gathering dusk, there was but one settler left when we got there, but he kept a house at which travellers could sign a paper, and we all signed, the ladies with port wine, the rest of us with J.D.K.Z., which the driver recommended as the purest article in the establishment. That was one splendid feature about our driver; he could advise you what to drink, as well as point out every object of interest on the road, and tell you the Christian name and history of every individual within a radius of fifty miles or so.

Shortly after quitting Pigroot we passed the head of Shag River, which divides Dillon Bell's and Preston's big sheep-runs. Then we came on the Maniototo Plains. The Naseby and Maniototo districts rejoice in the collective title of 'Thompson's Farm-yard,' because of the homely demesticity displayed by one Thompson in the naming of the different small settlements. Kyeburn, Sowburn, Swineburn, Hogburn, are among the graceful samples of Mr. Thompson's taste in nomenclature.

At Kyeburn we had the coach lamps lighted, for the night page 269had closed in darkly. Presently I was startled to see, in a brief flash of our uncertain glimmering light, a lonely dog sitting gravely by the roadside far out on the open plain.

'Ha, Spot!' cried the driver, in cheery greeting. 'How goes it, old dog? Did they bring you your rations to-day?'

The dog responded with a friendly sagacious yelp.

'What is he doing there?' I inquired.

'Shepherding,' said the driver; and then he told us a story about a certain settler who, in a lawsuit over disputed land, swore to having a live fence round his run; and when the matter was sifted his 'live fence' was found to consist of dogs chained at intervals round the section. And I afterwards found it to be quite a common practice, on unfenced runs in this part of the country, to put dogs here and there to keep the sheep within boundaries. We saw several during our travels there; poor wistful-eyed brutes that seemed to take an almost passionate interest in our movements, watching the coach affectionately until it was out of sight. They have comfortable kennels, and their rations of meat and water are taken to them regularly, and there they dwell, canine hermits, till chance or death breaks their bonds.

Presently we began to go downhill; and a nasty awkward descent it was, made worse by the fact of our being unable to see where we were going, except that we were told, 'That is Naseby yonder.' There was a glimmer of light here and there in the distance, and crossing a bridge, we found ourselves in the principal street of a diggings township.

'I wonder what the old man has for supper?' said Mr. S., referring to the host of the house we were going to stop at. 'I feel frightfully hungry.'

Hungry seemed too tame a word to express my sensations at the moment. I had been hungry for hours past; now when a savour of roast meat came wafting to my nostrils on the evening breeze, I could hardly contain myself.

'What do you think you could eat, Tom?' I shouted to Our Basso inside the coach.

'If this journey had to last another hour,' he replied, 'I should page 270begin to eat the company. I can easily understand cannibalism now.'

A long drive through the bracing air of Otago has a tendency to make one forget one's years—to take one back to the days when one was yet in happy ignorance of the important part one's liver plays in one's maturer existence; to the days when one's curve of beauty beneath the waistcoat was still concave and not even threatening to become convex; when one had a waist and an appetite, and one's only troubles were the long intervals between meals.

'Will you have chop, sir?' asked a comely girl, when I had at last found a place at the tempting supper-table.

'A chop!' said I, fixing her with my eagle glance. 'A chop! No. I will take the whole sheep, if you please.'

Needless to say, I did not get it; but I got the best part of a leg, and managed to fill up the chinks in my system with sausages, pie, buttered scones, and coffee. The long table was well crowded, for, besides the coach passengers, there were several diggers in orthodox costume, two Chinese, and a Maori, the latter a splendid specimen of dark humanity.

'What will you take?' said the young woman to him.

'Sausage,' he responded laconically.

'Sausage—one,' cried the damsel, in restaurant fashion, to the one presiding over the frying-pan.

'Sausage, one, be dam!' roared the handsome savage, mistaking her, and showing two rows of fine white teeth indignantly. 'Sausage, six, for me!' and he spread out four fingers and two thumbs to further indicate the number.

Our ladies seemed very tired; so did Tempest. After supper they all retired promptly, and we saw them no more that night. The rest of us repaired to the smoking-room. Our host was a sociable old gentleman, addicted to whisky, argument, and the sciences. Astronomy was his most recent study, and he brought it to bear upon Our Basso. I deeply regret to say that although this was very early in the evening, Our Basso was drunk. I may also add, with that fine regard for truth and honest confession which is my most distinguishing characteristic, that we page 271were all drunk. Frequent hot whiskies, after a cold drive and a full meal, were the cause. Our Basso was, however, the drunkest of the company, and when Our Basso was very drunk he always exhibited a nasty temper.

'Them astronomers says,' observed our host to Our Basso, 'that it takes Jupiter twelve years to dodge round the sun, and that he's got five moons all to his own cheek. Do you believe that story?'

'No, I don't,' growled Our Basso; 'and if he has, I sh'd say the whole five wasn't—hic—worth a cent.'

'Oh, come now,' said Our Tenor, inclined just then to take every observation made by Our Basso as a personal affront. 'Come, now, that's putting moons down at a mighty mean valuation, I take it. There's our moon, now—only one moon—would you go the length of saying——'

'That she's much too good for the common use of fellows like you?' said Our Basso. 'Yes, I would.'

'Not that she's much account, either, as far as I can make out,' remarked the landlord meditatively, 'She's pretty well played herself out of creation, accordin' to all I've read and heerd say. Won't last more nor a million years or so longer.'

'And don't you reckon that about long enough? Don't you think that'll about last your time?' said Our Basso, aggressively. 'About how long do you want a confounded luminosity to go buzzing round in eternal space, I want to know? I reckon that moon 'll see you through, anyhow.'

'Well—yes, she might,' returned our landlord, smiling concilitorily.

'Yes, and you won't have to hurry up much neither,' continued Our Basso, wrathfully. 'It just amuses me to death to hear a parcel of mudworms on this planet talking about what other planets ought to do—arguing about the duties of the universe, so to speak.'

'Well, I didn't mean to go as far as that, you know,' said our host, softly, 'but I must say as I've been a good deal exercised in my mind about them five moons of old Jupiter's. It seems a trifle mean and greedy of old Jupe—now doesn't it?—owning page 272such a lot of lights, and other planets only got one. Why, when I was a young chap, courting, two moonlight nights a week was thought——'

'Now, who the deuce cares about your two moonlight nights a week?' interrupted Our Basso. 'What the present company is interested in is not moons, but stimulant, sir. Stimulant!—and my glass is empty. Gentlemen all, name your weakness.'

There was general applause, and Our Basso beamed round magnificently. Something had made me giddy—the heat of the fire, doubtless—so I resolved to go out for a walk. The night was very still and pleasant, but very dark, and the road unsteady. Stumbling along, I brought up suddenly against a post—so suddenly that I was sobered—I mean the giddiness went off—at once, and I groaned a loud groan.

'Thompson's wooden man again,' said a voice in close proximity.

'I beg pardon?' moaned I.

'It's that confounded post of Thompson's,' said the voice, and I became gradually aware that a man was addressing me from the interior of a dwelling-house of some description. 'Thompson planted that post to mark off his selection, and about twenty people every night jam themselves in the stomach with it. But nobody's died of it yet.'

'Well, that's comforting, of course,' I said, and then I asked to be directed to my hotel, and did my best to follow instructions. I must have been pretty near the place when I fell over something. It was an object of considerable size and soft to the touch, and uttered a groan when I kicked it.

'God bless me! it's somebody hurt!' I exclaimed in alarm.

'Dammit, yes; if I ain't hurt, it isn't your fault,' was the response, and I joyfully recognised Our Basso.

'Why, is that you, Tom? What on earth are you doing here?'

'Whash that t'you? It'sh a free country, I hope. A man ain't bound to give an account of himself to every blooming inquisitive ass that can't mind itsh own business. Lemme alone I'

'Won't you come indoors, Tom?'

'No, I won't. I came out here to take observations o' them page 273five moons o' Jupiter's, and I'm going to know all about 'em, if I've got to sit here all night over it, sho there! I've counted seventeen.'

'Seventeen what?'

'Seventeen moons circumambulating old Jupiter's solar what's-his-name, not to speak of three comets with tails as long as my arm. And I'm going to see the business right through if I die for it, sho there!'

I sat down beside Our Basso and soothed him; and presently he laid his head on my shoulder and burst into tears, which so wrought upon me that I wept too, and then we started off hand in hand to find the hotel. But we fell down a cutting, and, being very tired, concluded not to try to get out again, and the last thing I remember before going to sleep was Our Basso's swearing because he could not wind his watch up with his pipe stem. I awoke at daylight stiff and cold, and decorated with frosty icicles; and, looking round on a white world that I should have greatly admired under less chilly circumstances, I gave Our Basso a spiteful kick, and went into the hotel, which was scarce ten yards from us. Early as it was, the cook was astir, and I never felt so fond of any woman in my life—not even of my first love—as I did of that cook when she made me a cup of hot tea, broiled me a red herring, and allowed me to enjoy both in front of a glowing fire of New Zealand coal.

I did not see any of our company that day; I did not care if I never saw any of them again, for I went to bed and had a fit of rheumatism that turned the few remaining hairs on my head as white as snow. Whisky applications, internal and external, enabled me to get about a little on the second day, and then I found the township well billed for our first performance, and the Itinerant Show highly elated with its pecuniary prospects. The Dunstan goldfields were a novelty to us who had seen only the alluvial and quartz diggings in Victoria. Imagine an extensive tract of broken ground, with no other machinery than sluice-boxes, tubs, and tin dishes. Water is brought a long distance in races, and the entire work is done by sluicing. There are no shafts; the ground is simply washed out and off page 274the surface, and the scene is suggestive of a past deluge. The township was like all others of its kind, an admixture of tents, huts, and public-houses. We prospered remarkably in Naseby; so well, that some of us speculated in mining shares, and fell to building castles in Spain—castles that were never anywhere else for us. Yet are not castles in the air better than none? I think few of us would willingly give up our world of dreams and visions, wherein we may sometimes wander until we forget earth's hard realities, and believe we are and have all that our soul's eyes have vision of.