THE LAND OF THE SHORN LAMB.

Auckland Star, Volume XVIII, Issue 273, 19 November 1887, Page 4 (Supplement)

THE LAND OF THE SHORN LAMB.

From Wellington to Auckland

on Foot

(Concluded.)

I remember a scholastic friond of mine saying, " If you want to see a country pro. perly°and observe the manners of the people you must walk through it." Yes, that's all very well, but a fellow on a penniless walking tour doesn't trouble his head much about scenery, etc. My mind was chiefly exercised in considering where I could get a " shakedown," as the vernacular of the country hath it, or a meal. Occasionally, when the weather was fine and ray pipe and stomach were well-filled and in good going order, I admit that my eye was well pleased with the appearance of the country. I felt free, however, and calmly indifferent to the ignoble strife of the madding crowds who swarm in populous cities. Masterton and Eketahuna I had a most unpleasant experience. I struck up an acquaintanceship with a flaxen haired young man of most tender years— his acre he informed me was live. I pumped him strategically with a view of obtaining a shakedown : and although he had an inpediment in his speech I obtained a good deal of information. He walked 2£ milee to .school, and his father sometimes gave swaggers a shakedown. I immediately determined to look up the venerable parent of my flaxen-haired acquaintance. Ihe alleged author of the being-"it's a wiso child," etc., you know of my new acquainjinco having the power of granting a shakedown, became in my eyes a capitalist, so I escorted the young gentloman to the tenement of his pa.

Upon inquiring for a shakedown, I was at once invited inside by a pleasant fair haired girl. A chair was handed to me and I made the acquaintance of the bairns, while the eldest girl busied herself in preparing the evening meal. It consisted of a rather hastily-cooked mutton rice pie, to which my healthy appetite enabled me to do ample justice. I was just about washing down my repast with a huge beaker of tea, when the mother entered. Having said good evening, 1 rose and asked them to show me where I would make a shakedown. To my astonishment the old lady said, " Aro joii going to pay for it ? " I replied, "No. I stated I had no money when I asked for a shakedown; I had only 3d cash. " Well, she said, with asperity, "there's plenty of workintho country." "There may be, I replied," but I have not dropped across it, and until I do I cannot pay for a shakedown." Eventually sho said I could sleep in the kitchen. Later on in the evening, I was sitting round the fire with the sons and a labourer, when the old lady re-entered and ordered me to take my chair and sit back about five yards from the lire. About ten o'clock the labourer unrolled his swag, and coiled up on tho floor, I waited to see if anybody ■would offer me anything to cover myself •with, for tho night was extremely cold, but no one did so. I got a bag and a coat and curled up also on the kitchen floor. Towards Vioi-ning I felt very cold. I fossicked round and found some more coals and managed to struggle through till daylight. After I had gbne through my ablutions, I noticed a vacant bedroom, "in which 1 completed my simple toilet. The bed had been untenanted during the night, and I was anything but pleased to think there was so little regard for my w>ifort. The, best lark waa the labourer seemed to be in a similar fix. He told me he would rather have slept outside in the barn, but there ho was lying in the most uncomfortable place a man can sleep—on the floor. I may state, that this was about the roughest experience that I had.

After leaving Eklahuna the snow began to fall thickly. Bush on both sides of tho road, snow to the depth of three inches, and the snowstorm still keeping up, made my journey coldly picturesque. It was pretty to look at, but, unprovided as I was, anything but comfortable. Like the hero of oneof jßret Harte's condensed novelp.Guy Livingstone, I thought of something classical—" Excelsior," but even that failed to comfort me. Reaching a large house I knocked, and a native camo to tho door. He told me that nobody stopped there, and that the place belonged to " Nirihu," adding that 1 would get a shake-down at a pah about a mile further on. I went away, bub after going a couple of hundred yards, ho called me back, and told me to go round to the side. I went round, entered, and was effusively greeted by two or three Maoris ; among them onewell dressed and portly man whomltookto be theproprietoroftherawcAe. He shook hands and asked me if I wanted a job. I inquired "What at? . Bush-fell-ing was the reply. I replied no, and the conference ended. I left feeling slightly disgusted, as the rangatira did not invite me to have something to eat. The Maori who called me back said, "The snow kill you if you out to-night." I pushed on and came across the tent encampment of Maori bush - fellers situated about a chain off the road in the bush. The Maori women and girls were seated in front of the tents enjoying the fragrant weed by the light of the camp fires. The scene was extremely pretty, but it would take the pen of a Euskin to do full justice to the effect of the tout ensemble of the forest—small patch of fallen timber, camp fires lighting up the faces of the dusky beauties with pipes stuck in their mouths, evening shadows, falling' snow.and native man feeding fireg. I asked a few questions, and as it was nearly dark I hurried on and reached the pah. Knocking, I was at once invited in, and upon explaining matters I was cheerfully told I could /stay for the night. After partaking of some scone and tea, I eat round the fire and stirred them up a little with a few songs,such as " Scotland Yet," "Broken Down," etc. There were about a dozen Maoris, young, middle-aged, and old, and I enjoyed myself capitally. The adults sang some hymns.in plaintive semi-falsetto style, very prettily. One item they chanted ended with the ejaculation " Liar !" A younf Maori lying next to me stated that it was the original composition. " We made it ourselves," he said. I am inclined to think it was an anonymous effusion he tried to palm off upon me. I was supplied with blankets and passed a very pleasant night, the contrast of the cold -white beautiful driven snow outside making me thank my stars that I had reached a humanitarian settlement. In the morning a bell rang outside, and most of the Maoris rose (there were about fifteen of us in the same room), wrapped their blankets around them, and went outside barefooted in the snow. I was told the bell rang for prayers. I did not go,as I don't believe in the efficacy of prayers, and I don't understand the native language. When they returned, I asked my young Maori friend if he felt any better. He evidently thought I wanted to take a " rise " out of him, for he said, " What do you want to know for?" " Oh,"I replied, " I would not go to prayers unless i felt better after the ■ performance was over." The subject was then dropped. Not seeing any eigns of breakfast, I took to the road again, after learning that lfc was 8 miles to Pahiatua. A brisk slushy walk of 2 J hours brought me to this township, m which I noticed nothing remarkable except that the legends on the shops read " Cash Store," "Caeh Shoeing Forge," etc., etc. Had it not been for the deterrent influence of these signs, I might have given some of the local tradesmen an order. I may mention tbab my boots leaked terribly,and that

I possessed no stockings. I am not of delicate habit, consequently I was not troubled with colds or influenza. I reacnea. Woodville the same afternoon, and received some clerical work from a solicitor, whom 1 had known slightly in th© South Island some years ago. Woodville is a thriving township, but the weather was too wet to tempt one to nee all the sights of the place. I spent the earlier part of the evening in washing sorao underclothing. After receiving my cheque next mornine, I found myselt the fortunate possessor of 14s. 1 purchased a quarter of a pound of nailrod, dined, and started for Napier. The possession of money, of course, entitled me to rank as a gentle tourist. I paid my way, but my mind was sorely exercised by the state of my boots. The holes were bo large that their condition reminded me of the story related by Mark Twain's shipwrecked mariner, in which be candidly admitted that nob only were hie boots very holy, but that the holes lasted as well as the other portions of the boots. Ab Waipukurau I obtained a professional opinion from the local snob as to whether they were worth repairing. He said no, so I reserved my capital. Some 26 miles from Napier I stayed at Williams s station, Te Arite. There were twelve wallabis in all staying there that night. I arrived late, and, attracted by a hubbub of voices, I went to a well-lighted building. In it there were a large number of young Maoris learning their lessons. 1 was directed by a boy to go across to the homostead, where I would receive a shakedown. At this station I learnt that unfortunate devils on the road are never refueed food and shelter. I stayed' there all night. We had a substantial tea, and next morning, after laying in a still more substantial breakfast, i" continued the even tenor of my way. I reached Napier thab night, and left next morning after endeavouring unsuccessfully to obtain employment. My capital upon leaving Napier was reduced to lid, and this amount I saved until I reached the Mohaka Hotel, where I invested it in a Sunday's dinner and some tobacco and matches. The dinner at ordinary rates would be Is 6d, but the landlord, upon learning the shattered state of my finances, gracefully waived all ceremony. I tele relieved when I got rid of that lid. It was amost awkward-.urn, andreally burnt a hole in my pocket. I stayed at a station some 12 miles from Napier. There wero four other swaggers staying at the same place that night. One of them informed me he had been one of a gang of 65 men working at Patea. The men had been paid off suddenly, and a good many had to shoulder their swags and tramp the country. It is nob pleasant to reflect on theso things. The wages of 65 men at £2 a week—and that is a high average in winter—for 3 months comes to £1,560. The Governor's salary alono is £7,500 a year, or oxactly £5,500 too much oven if his duties wero onerous. When one considers tho amount of money in salaries and expenses coolly pocketed by Ministers of the Crown, M.L.C. s and Governor, in a colony of half a million inhabitants, and tho fact that numbers of men able and willing to work have periodically to beg thoir way through the country, or starve in town, or go to gaol, then one cannot but feel contempt For a Premier who stated that the Government could not afford to pay more than 4s a day to the unemployed. In a colony so thinly populated as Ne.v Zealand, it is absurd to argue that it is a difficult tiling to deal with tho unemployed question. The root of the difficulty is simply that so much money is criminally wasted in fattening the lawmakers of tho colony and their friends and supporters that there is none to spare for a period of distress. The Government never seems to put by anything-for this ■•kind" of rainy day. They preach but never start to practise economy where it should commence —at home. The day I reached Taupo I walked 24 milos without having anything to eat. After my day's journey I was regaled with bread and meat. After leaving Mohaka I was surprised to see the Maoris working on Sun-day—cross-cut sawing, delving and burning, etc. In my olissful ignorance I thought they were strict Sabbatarians. Some 12 miles on the Auckland aide of Taupo I wae offered a job by a native gentleman. He was lying with a blanket wrapped round him among the tusaacs by the roadtside. He said he would give mo 20s a-week, and produced silver and notes in proof of his capacity to pay. I declined, because I did not like tho idea of being bossed by a man who had co little regard for decency as to lio in a blanket by the roadside.

I reached Auckland on the Ist September, having walked the distance in 21 duys. Bad boots and want of money handicapped me, or I would have done the distance in shorter time.

I cannot conclude this sketch without Btating that I might have spun it out until it reached the dimensions of a thirty-shillingthree-volume novel, bulimy walk was not a pleasant journey, and it therefore gives mo little pleasure to recount my experience. I did not wish to rush after hard work, because I reckoned it would take me six weeks to earn an outfit, and, moreover, I saw plenty of men out of work who appeared to be more handy than lam at labouring work. Although lam no slush at gorse cutting, harvesting, driving, etc., "hard graft" is not in my line.—-Vicii Alpine Dhu.