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Chapter XVIII.

During the time Tom and his father had been away from home the men had worked diligently. The garden was in beautiful order, and two more fields fenced in, and ready for anything.

The lambs had grown into fine sheep, and the pigeons doubled their number, by hatching two young ones each. The tame rabbits had got out, and run wild over the hill, where they might be seen in the evening hopping about in great numbers.

The hens were in great force, and had two broods of young chickens; while the old gander stalked about in solitary grandeur, both his wives being engaged in keeping their eggs warm. The turkey-cock was shut up in a coop, lest he should attack Aps, with whom he had a fight the very day the young turkeys came out of their shells, and growing very wicked, Mrs. Graham decided upon imprisoning him until he got more amiable.

The animals brought home by Captain Graham were a cow and a bull, twenty sheep, a couple of pigs, and two deer. Besides this, he brought a box of books, and a very large Noah's-ark for Aps. There was something page 126 coming, he said; a large thing he could not carry, so left it at Lyttelton, to be sent for.

Tom had very little peace between this and the mysterious arrival, Lucy, Beatrice, and even Bridget being continually on the alert to find out what it was that required the waggon and both men; but Tom had promised his Papa not to let out the secret, so said nothing, except “You shall see; have patience.”

At last the waggon returned, and on it a high box. Both girls rushed to meet it directly it was in sight, and both at the same time, knowing the shape of the box, exclaimed, “A piano—a piano!” Then leaving the waggon to its fate, rushed in to tell Tom they had found it out.

A piano in the plains is not a very usual thing; but Captain Graham knew how much his wife liked music, and thought it assisted to refine and soften human nature, so meeting with a gentleman who had brought one out as a speculation, he purchased it, and took it home as a present to his wife.

The evenings now were enlivened by music and singing; and so great was the delight with which it was heard by the settlers, that many of them thought nothing of riding twenty or thirty miles to hear Mrs. Graham play and sing.

Lucy and Beatrice had both hated practising in England, but it was quite a different thing here. They were eager to practise; and every minute they were not busy with other things, were anxious to get to the piano.

Lucy had a sweet voice, and soon learnt to sing very nicely; but her playing was dreadful. She never could page 127 strike the right notes somehow, and was always in such a hurry to play a thing quickly, that she forgot she must practise it slowly first, and that you must learn to stand on your legs before you can run races.

Beatrice, however, was different. She could not sing so sweetly as her sister, but she played more correctly, and was more patient, being content to practise quietly over and over again, until she overcame one difficulty after another, and could play a piece straight through after the first trial.

Letters from George had reached them by the last mail, telling of his passing his “little go,” and hinting that he might come out and finish his studies at the Auckland College, and that he only waited an answer.

This, however, his father objected to very strongly, and wrote by the returning mail to tell George, and, if possible, stop him. Still, he left it much to his own judgment, as both Captain and Mrs. Graham thought that their children ought to be encouraged to judge for themselves while they were young, and had still their parents as a home and refuge, in case their plans did not succeed. If all parents acted upon this kind and wise plan, there would be fewer ill-advised speculations and rash enterprises. It is better for a boy to learn wisdom while he has his father and mother to advise and direct him, than to wait until one or perhaps both are gone, and then trusting to his own powers, embark in the voyage of life.

Winter now drew on, and fires began to be welcome in the evening; for although the morning and mid-day were as warm as ever, the evenings often set in cold and wet.

The hills looked whiter too, and had evidently received page 128 a fresh coat of snow, although as yet, the first really winter month, neither frost nor snow had been noticed on the plains. One morning, however, the men going out to the forest discovered a thin coating of ice on the rain which had gathered in a cart track, and that night a slight fall of snow took place, though none of it lay above a few minutes, and was gone long before morning. Heavy rain fell nearly every day, and the river continued rising until it overflowed its banks, and nearly reached the garden fence. In fact, the boat was brought into the garden for safety; and all that could be seen of the island, on which the Christmas Day wreck had taken place, was the bending and struggling tops of the bushes, writhing and twisting as the fierce stream rushed past them. The boat-house kept its ground for a long time, and Tom began to have some hopes of its standing; but a large tree struck it, just as Tom was telling Lucy what he thought; it tottered, bent, the roof fell, and then over it all went, and disappeared under the foam and spray. Tom was very sorry, and nearly cried. He had taken great pains in the building of his boat-house, and had lately been engaged carving the door posts and lining the roof with the mosses which grow so luxuriantly in the forest.

The river kept rising for three days, and on the fourth the rain and wind were so severe, that the foam was blown against the dining-room windows, causing no small alarm, and exciting a fear in Captain Graham's mind, that they had not built the house on a high enough situation. Starting up from the dinner table, he ran out, followed by Tom, and saw the water had actually risen inside the garden, and was curling its dirty yellow frothing foam page 129 round a pretty plant of pinks. Just then a loud shout from the road drew their attention, and looking round, to their surprise, they saw a waggon load of furniture, beds, etc., and a little crowd of people, crowding up pale and wet.

It turned out to be one of their neighbours, who had settled further up the river, and built his house upon a point of land, having a merry little rivulet on one side, and the beautiful river upon the other. When the flood began they thought very little of it, and went to bed as usual; but, in the middle of the night, they were roused by a clatter in the kitchen, as if all the crockery, pots and pans, had been thrown down. The husband ran down, and found the water up to the fireplace, the pans and dishcovers floating about upon the water.

There was no time to be lost, so, while his wife was putting some clothes upon the children, and the man getting the bullocks and waggon harnessed, he managed to collect a load of furniture, bedding, blankets, etc., and, when they left the house, the water was nearly as high as the front door; but, though rising rapidly, luckily the stream did not touch it, so there was a faint hope, that if the foundations stood the sapping of the wet, the house might escape with a thorough soaking.

Never were any people in a more miserable plight, than the unfortunate family whose arrival I have just told you of. The children had been wrapped in shawls, etc.; but, like all very young children, had a great objection to be fastened up, so had kicked and pulled the shawls off, and sat with their little white nightgowns only on, with chattering teeth, and wondering why they were so cold,—their page 130 cries piercing their poor mother's heart, who was just as cold as themselves, and trying to keep a poor little baby, only a month old, warm.

Fires were lighted in every room in the Graham's, hot brandy and water and tea administered, and very soon Bridget, who had taken entire charge of the children, had the satisfaction of seeing them sound asleep in her own bed, their rosy cheeks and gentle breathing shewing they were none the worse for their wetting, while their mamma and the baby were equally comfortable beside the drawing-room fire.

Directly they were housed, Captain Graham and the father started off for the farm, to try and save some of the stock, which, although turned out, might, in their confusion and fear, run into the very danger they were intended to avoid.

They found the sheep huddling together in a corner, just where the water was gaining most rapidly; and already a narrow stream had divided them from the main land, so that in a very short time the poor timid things would all have been lost. Fortunately, help arrived at the right moment; but it was in vain to attempt to make them face the little stream. The farmer got off; he and Captain Graham pushed, beat, and scolded them all in vain. At last, seizing one by the wool, Captain Graham exerted his whole force and dragged it through; it was instantly followed by the whole flock, as sheep invariably follow their leader, so that Captain Graham was thrown down and jumped over, by at least forty terrified sheep. He rose all mud, and wet through, but laughing at the success of his plan, which had saved his friend's flock.

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The house was standing in the midst of the water, which now reached the windows of the first story; the poultry had perched upon the roof, and were looking with rueful countenances upon the wet thatch, their feathers drooping in that doleful, unhappy manner I daresay you have noticed in fowls on a wet day. Out of one of the upper windows a poor cat was looking—evidently very uncomfortable and frightened. This was a favourite cat of the children, and Captain Graham could scarcely persuade his friend to leave without an attempt to rescue the cat; in fact, after they had turned their horses’ heads away, the farmer said—

“It's no use, Graham, I cannot leave the poor thing; just stand there, and I'll get her, somehow;” so, turning back, he got up as near to the house as he could,—but he was still too far off. A great gulf of yellow water lay between him and the cat, which had come out on the window sill, and was mewing piteously.

Next he tried the back part of the house, but there, again, he failed; at last, getting excited by the difficulty, he jumped off his horse, and, springing into the water, swam up to the window. The cat sprang down upon his neck, and sat perched there, purring her thanks as he turned and swam back; and all the way home she sat on one shoulder, looking as perfectly happy as any cat could, and purring away without the least interruption.

The delight of his children, on seeing their pet cat, was quite enough to reward their papa, who had only got a wetting after all, though in doing so he had shewn what a kind thoughtful man he was, and that even an animal's life was precious.

The flood lasted three days longer; and then it began page 132 to subside, leaving each hour a narrow rim of dirty yellow froth hanging upon the grass and weeds. On the fourth day it was almost within its banks, and Tom, by taking off his stockings and shoes, and wading, succeeded in reaching the place where the boat-house had been, and where the four corner posts were all that remained.

The flood coming so near the house had acted as a warning to Captain Graham, who, directly it had subsided, began to construct an embankment, which would protect the garden, while just above, he built a strong breakwater; so that he felt quite secure that no flood could harm his house. In New Zealand the floods are more sudden and destructive than people living in England can possibly imagine; the rain falls in torrents, more like the pour from a shower-bath than anything else, and as the ground all drains rapidly, the rivers rise with incredible swiftness; sometimes, if the heavy rain occurs in the hills, coming down in a perfect wall, often two or three feet high, rushing, roaring, and carrying everything before it with irresistible fury.

Sometimes, in the Highlands of Scotland, rivers come rushing down in this way; but even there it is seldom seen, and gives the good people something to talk of for a very long time afterwards; but in New Zealand it soon ceases to create surprise, and during winter occurs constantly. In some countries it is called “a wave,” in others, “a bolster.” For some time after the flood, Lucy was very uneasy; she had lost confidence in her home, and the river, which she had always looked upon as a friend, and with much admiration, had deceived her. She stood by its stream, looking down at its dark, discoloured current page 133 reproachfully, and thinking how nearly it had carried away all her flowers.

Floods occurred frequently that winter, as it happened to be an unusually wet season; and yet, although the rain fell every day, there was always a clear hour or two in the middle of the day, when they could get out; and it was well worth risking wet feet to breathe the fresh, invigorating breath of the shrubs and flowers, all glittering and sparkling, as they were, with the rain-drops; while, if you ventured into the forest, every step brought down a shower-bath on your head. Lucy never came in from a walk in winter without traces of the rain-diamonds sparkling among her curls, and often wet through and through, though no bad effects ever seemed to arise from such experiments, or, as some people would call them, imprudences. It seems as if in New Zealand people never take cold.

In the evening, Captain Graham and Tom always read aloud; generally one night, history or travels; the next, some story or adventure; while the rest of the evening was always taken up with music and singing. Aps was very fond of the latter, and always stood beside his Mamma, and sang “Glory to thee, my God, this night,” before he would retire to his bed. He was growing a great boy, and learning to speak quite distinctly, a quality he made great use of, talking continually, and of everything, whether he knew anything about it, or not.