Other formats

    Adobe Portable Document Format file (facsimile images)   TEI XML file   ePub eBook file  

Connect

    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

A Maori Maid

Chapter XXV

page 208

Chapter XXV.

On the road to the Hautapu boundary, across miles of undulating grass land, and then through small patches of bush, Ngaia received her first lessons in sheep lore and the art of managing her whip. She was a quick pupil, and none the less so for the fact that her teacher was her master in every thought and wish and inclination.

Now and again at the outset he was conscious ot quaint touches of self-restraint and shyness in her manner towards him. Gradually, however, he reasserted her confidence in herself and in him, until, like brother and sister, they rode side by side, laughing and talking in the exquisite communion of a pure, young girl with a man steadfast in his determination to be in every sense worthy of her trust in him. He teased her about her new pet, and made believe it was a mass of faults, until he experienced the delight of banishing the look of distress from her face into a glow of pleasure at his praise of her skill as a horsewoman and his admiration of Mignon as the personification of equine perfection.

They were back at the cottage by five o'clock, and Ngaia, after rubbing Mignon down and giving her a handful of hard feed, went in to make tea for her companion.

"And yourself. I won't let you make it unless you say you want it also."

"I'm going to make it."

page 209

"I won't stay unless you tell me you are wanting some yourself."

"I don't see that it makes any difference to your wanting some. However, I do want some, so——"

"I'll stay."

Thenceforth day after day Ngaia was Archie's companion in his rides about the station. People—that is to say some two or three of the station hands— talked. He knew that, though she was supremely unconscious of it. They talked about and they admired, now that she was brought so frequently under their notice, the girl whose exquisite beauty had remained buried in Jake's cottage. That she should have become the young man's companion to the extent that she had, was not calculated to surprise them. She was Jake's half-caste daughter; and Jake's half-caste daughter was not likely to remain a good woman longer than most Pakeha-maories' children. Only Jack and Arthur in the Quarters, and Brown, the manager, realised the purity of the companionship; and odd miles ridden by one or other of them alongside Archie and Ngaia had convinced them that marriages of the bush are sometimes made in heaven.

They talk of it now in those parts, that strange, romantic friendship and its even more romantic end.

It was soon obvious to every one but Archie that she was in love with him. In his company the light of ecstasy danced in her eyes. She was wilful and headstrong in a sense, and with the pride of a princess would tolerate no command from him; and yet she was his slave in everything that she knew he really wished her to obey him in. She had unquestioning confidence in him, so that whatever he might say was right, whatever he might condemn was wrong. He seemed to her all that was perfect in a man, strong, brave, generous, and, to her, tender and kind.

She had grown to be an ideal horsewoman, and under page 210Archie's tuition had acquired an amazing knowledge of sheep and their handling. She had a dog of her own, one of Archie's that had fallen in love with her and refused to leave her. She could handle her stockwhip with tolerable precision, and could even at times flick a crack from Archie's heavy cattle-whip.

Men away back in those parts will tell you, if you ask them, that she never once rode with any one but Archie, and, wet or fine, if he was out she was with him. Often at the commencement of the day there might be three or four of them. Arthur or Jack would be with Archie when he called at Jake's cottage, for it was a privilege to be with her. In a hundred ways the influence of the girl was quickly making itself felt at the station.

It is always so. One good woman among fifty men whitens the lot.

Jackaroos, and men generally, down country from a big run are sometimes rough-handed, untidy, foul-mouthed. They are gentlemen still, but the polish is gone, and refinement is lost in awkward shyness of a lady. Others from away back visiting town seem to have left the roughness of station life behind them. They take some pride in their clothes and can dance; and they can talk to and flirt with a woman as a woman would wish a man to do. They are at their ease in a drawing-room, and coarse talk is only their talk amongst men drinking whiskies and brandies into the grey of the morning.

The two types are not temperaments. The secret is the presence of ladies in the big homestead, daughters of the house whose influence on the men is the refining influence that good women always have on reclaim-able men.

Unconsciously Ngaia in the glory of her beauty and her sex and the charm of her manner was working just such a change. Those riding with her held check page 211upon their tongues. She preached no sermon of reformation, scarcely even uttered a word of remonstrance. A sharp oath might sometimes slip from Jack or Arthur at the slovenliness of a dog. It might bring a flush to her cheek, it invariably brought an apology to the lips of the men.

They at any rate realised the fact and secretly rejoiced. Brown visiting the Quarters for his evening smoke expressed a strong opinion. "It's a vera good job a bonnie lass like her should sweep the dirt from oot the mouths and hearts of lone men among the hills. It's a deespensation of Providence, d'ye ken, and a bl—nay, but I'm forgettin'—a marvellous meestery how she comes to be the child of that blackguard Jake."

"D——Jake!" muttered Arthur.

"Curse him!" growled Jack, knocking the tobacco out of his pipe.

"It's nae fault o' hers, I'm thinking. But it makes a man invious o' Jake; and it's sair aggravatin' to feel invious o' men like him."

"He's bullied the life out of her. Poor little woman, she's a bit happier since Archie found her."

"And, laddies, I dinna mind telling ye that I'm taking it oot o' Jake for the lassie's sake. It's no the thing tae aloo a man o' that kin tae haud his head owre high. I suppose," he added after a moment, "Archie's awa' doon wi' her the noo."

"Yes, sir."

"He'll marry her."

"I wonder?"

"Has she said onything to create that impression?"

"Ngaia's not talked when Archie's here—at least not on the line of marriage."

"Eh, but it may be a fine romance. His father's rich and a baronet and she's the daughter of a shepherd—a good shepherd but a d——d blackguard. She'll be Lady Deverell."

page 212

"She's in love with him and knows it."

"And he's in love with her," drawled Jack, "and doesn't."

"I'm nae so sure. I'm thinking he does. He's awfu' fond o' her."

"Men are always fond of good sisters.'

"Ither men's sisters."

"No, sisters own. When a man's fond of another man's sister he marries her."

"Eh, but d'ye ken the ither man's sister may be anither man's wife," said Brown slowly. "I ken," he added, and there was a strange softness in the rough voice.

"In the grinding of life it's come to you, eh, sir?"

"It's the whisky maybe, or it's the romance and the talk of woman has gone to my head or my heart. But it's nae use tracking along the back trail."

"The trail of other men's sisters."

"Providence and a d——d fool o' a doctor took my sister. She was a wee bit lassie but she'd 'a grown to be a guid woman."

"Still there were other men's sisters."

"Providence and a d——d fool of a mechanic took her. She'd already married him when I met her and —I gaed awa'. She's nane the waur for haeing ken me. Eh, but pass the whisky, lad; I'm getting sentimental. Ye maun gang across to the Wainui the morn, one of ye, and see if the bush is ready for firin'."

"Yes, sir," said Arthur. "I arranged to go over with Archie and Ngaia to-morrow."

"It's oot of yir way callin' at Jake's cottage."

"She's coming up here, sir."

"For breakfast?"

"Yes," said a voice. It was Archie's. "Good-evening, sir."

"Guid e'en, ma lad."

"You're talking of Ngaia, eh? Well, I told her page 213she was to have breakfast here. She's never seen the Quarters."

"Preecious untidy place for a lass to see, no' to mention the picters or some o' them," muttered the old Scotchman. "She'll be aftir tidying for ye."

He was perfectly correct, although a portion of the task had already been done before she arrived. Late as it was when old Brown left, the three young fellows set to work upon their sitting-room.

"Some of those pictures of yours 'll have to go, Jack," said Arthur. And many, and not Jack's only, did go.

"Never mind the coats and things; this isn't a drawing-room," said Archie. "It's just to make the place a bit tidier and to clear out men's pictures and things that girls don't want to see."

At half-past six, with the punctuality of a most formally invited guest, she cantered up. The crisp, early-morning breeze had brought a lovely colour upon her cheeks. In her trim grey habit and stiff white collar and dark guantleted gloves she might have been ready to ride across into Rotten Row; and assuredly her beauty and the perfection of her seat, her horse and its appointments would have placed her second to none in appearance.

The stock-whip with its numberless coils tied to the off-side D, and the small swag strapped to the front of her saddle, were, however, obviously as inconsistent with Hyde Park as they were appropriate to her immediate surroundings.

"Good-raorning, Mr. Langford," she said as Arthur stepped out of the Quarters and held her horse's head.

"Good-morning," he said.

Jack, too, was by the mare's side as she slid lightly to the ground.

She shook hands with the two men.

"Good-morning, Ngaia," came a voice from within page 214that for an instant brought the old flush to her cheeks and the light of pleasure to her eyes.

"Good-morning," she called out in reply.

"Come in," said Jack, standing at the doorway. "The boy'll take Mignon round to the stable."

The girl entered.

Archie, gaitered and booted and spurred like his companions, was standing over the fire, his coat off, and bis sleeves rolled up. He looked round, obviously hot—with fire and anxiety.

"Excuse my not coming out, Ngaia; and likewise my attire. I'm doing an omelet Sam can't do omelets, and I can, and it mustn't be left."

She had taken off her gloves and crossed over to his side.

"Let me help. I'm a famous cook now."

"Certainly not," he answered with mock indignation. "Our guest doing the cooking! The idea! Arthur, take her away—quick."

Laughingly protesting she took a seat.

"Oh, I'm going to help," she exclaimed after a moment or two, as she saw Arthur preparing to measure out the tea. "I'm going to make the tea at any rate. It's a woman's privilege."

The omelet was a success; and Sam's eggs and bacon and chops were done to a turn. The tea was voted the best the battered white-metal teapot had ever poured out

"There'll be no getting the old chap to pour out our wishy-washy rubbish in future," remarked Jack. "He'll be too spout-proud."

"It's all very well; there's no satisfying that fellow, Ngaia," said Archie. "If I make the tea it's wishy-washy. If Arthur makes it, it's——"

"It's strong enough to crack the cups. It has cracked the cups—or Sam has. Yours is just right, Ngaia," said Jack.

"That's quite charming, Mr. Stevens. Really you're page 215proving most expert at compliments. Just fancy at this hour in the morning too!"

"It's none too early," said Archie, looking at his watch. "It's a good ride over to the Wainui."

"How far is it?" said Ngaia. "About fourteen miles, I suppose."

"All that," said Jack.

"Which way are you going?" asked Arthur.

"Through No. 12 around by the creek."

"Surely that's not the shortest way," said Ngaia. "Why not go across by the Maungaiti?"

"Ngaia's quite right," remarked Jack.

"There can't be much difference," said Archie.

"Over a mile, I should say," said Ngaia. "Besides, the gate in No. 8 wants mending."

"By Jove! yes. Upon my soul, Ngaia, you're getting as useful as any station hand on the place," exclaimed Archie, reaching over for the bread.

Only Jack noticed the look that came into the girl's face at Archie's spontaneous and unaffected praise. It made him think things for the moment; and old Brown's talk of a "romance with the help of Providence" came to his mind.

Breakfast was no unsubstantial meal of ceremony. All four had a long day's ride before them, with only a thick sandwich apiece to last until evening-time. The omelet, the eggs and beacon, and the chops and potatoes disappeared with amazing rapidity—not to mention bread and butter.

Breakfast over, the men lit their pipes and Ngaia took stock of the room.

"What do you think of it?" asked Jack.

"Well, I think it's just horribly untidy," she whispered.

"Oh lor!" ejaculated Jack, with feigned disappointment. "We put in a good hour last night trying to straighten it up."

page 216

"Then it must have been awful."

"I'm inclined to believe it was."

"Doesn't any one ever look after it for you, and— and mend your clothes, and all that?"

"No, except when Sam sometimes seizes a broom and sweeps the dust off the floor on to everything above it. As for buttons—well, that doesn't matter. Women can't sew on buttons. They come off."

"I'm sure you don't know anything about it; at any rate, women can mend and darn."

"When I get a small hole I wait till it's big; then I gather the ends and tie a piece of string tightly round and cut off the bunch that sticks out. It works."

"It's a great shame. I——"

"Now don't you say anything rash, Ngaia," said Archie. "If they can get you on to mending and sewing for them they will. It's a put-up job, a conspiracy. I warn you."

"It's all jolly fine for Archie; he ought to have been a tailor," said Jack.

"Would you let me come one day when you are all out and go through your things and mend them?" asked Ngaia."

"Now, then, I knew you'd go and commit yourself," said Archie laughingly.

"I daresay your things want looking after as badly as any of them," answered the girl with a smile.

"I daresay they do," he said quietly.

"Look here, Ngaia, it'd be jolly good of you if you would come," said Arthur. "It makes all the difference to a man's place if a girl's kind enough to put it to rights for him sometimes. We'll get the place a bit clean for the start and then we'll hand it over to you. You'll be able to come up often in the afternoon and have tea and toast. Only it'll involve a fearful amount of work—at any rate at first."

"I don't mind a bit if—if you don't mind my page 217rummaging about your rooms and tidying up and—and throwing away the rubbish."

She looked towards Archie as she spoke. There was for her only one person whose consent was sufficient, whose wish was law. He caught her glance and answered her with a smile.

"It would be just splendid of you, Ngaia. You shall have the Quarters to yourself one whole day or as many days as you like, and you'll earn the everlasting gratitude of three benighted bachelors.

"Then it's a bargain. Oh, you won't know yourselves when I've finished, I'm sure. I can make this room look much nicer than it is."

The bargain was made.

Then the men strolled off to the stables and left her with apparent lack of ceremony.

The pure and perfect relationship of a man and girl are not necessarily trespassed upon by a realisation of the necessities of humanity. It rests with the individuals and their manners, and in that lies the unassailable respect of a woman for a man. In the forcing-houses of fashionable life men and women are prudish to an absurdity. In the greater life, where men and women are thrown together in the relationship of atoms of humanity dependent on each other's courage or endurance or resource, a greater respect makes an end of false modesty and intensifies the good that is in each.

Ngaia, curiously innocent of wickedness, would have shrunk in horror from the compliments or innuendoes with which men of society spice their social vapourings. Yet she in her sweet way understood and was understood by the men amongst whom she found herself to all intents and purposes a solitary woman. Her helplessness and her trustfulness in this respect intensified the kindliness and consideration of men's bearing towards her; and Ngaia Carlyle in her experience of gentlemen was strangely fortunate in knowing nothing page 218but what was best and bravest and most courteous in them.

It alone rendered her companionship possible; and not merely possible but delightful.

By half-past eight the party were in the saddle and had started. At the turning by the sheepyard Arthur left them. He had work to do in some other direction. The other three continued their ride following the road suggested by Ngaia.