GWENS DECISION

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 306, 23 December 1908, Page 2 (Supplement)

GWENS DECISION

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

BY Mrs campbill proa d

It was a typical bush scene, familiar ™i enough of old; but now the girl shud- :sr dered at the new aspect of desolation. | e0 A dividing fence of bloodwood slabs, 'to grey and slanting inward from sheer de- • oi crepitude; grey-green, long-bladed grass, I ™ ■withered by the fierce December sun; tattered grey-green foliage of gum trees—oh, y those everlasting gum trees —long, thin, j grey and spotted stems, crossing each " other and extending half-naked branches J° against a brassy sky which backed, the J" crest of the range; a rough cart track meandering down through the trees to . the slip-rails; and, within the ieace, I Gwen Uaraack, her cabin trunk and bun- t< die of wraps beside hex, standing, an ft image of "iorlorn wrain. ; n ' The train nad whizzed away, lost long v ago among the thickening gum forest. B There was no shed or stage. By arrange- I o ment with the owners of Ballooma cattle ] ti station, passengers were dropped at the a slrp-rails, where, ordinarily, buggy or rid- | h ing horses awaited them. ! t Only two or three months ago she had ! p gazed from her studio window at the | dome of St. Peter's and the Romaji Cam- j pagna. She ioa-thed this primitive civil- ' h isation, this imprisonment in a barren ii "wilderness bounded by the eternal old a gum trees. I a Was nobody corning? She put back ! I her veil, and strained her eyes through ) the grey-green waste —eyes a shade be- J j tiween blue and brown, changing with ■ b every passing emotion. One could see i now how pretty she was. Slim, straight c as the gum sapling; a little head with a gold-brown hair; a determined chilT and s a, kissable but resolute mouth; a com- c plp-rinn that had the exotic brilliancy oi 3 a certain type of Australian beauty. j \ •'Yep! yep!" A crack of the whip and. . rattle of rough wheels. The station \ buggy appeared, shabbier than ever, and , Firebrand and Dozer, the two buggy s horses, leaner and worse groomed than i t ever of yore. Only the driver sat in the i s iboggy, stooping forward to urge the horses with the bushman's rakish slouch, f A geod-looking young man, unknown j to Gwen, undoubtedly a gentleman, in a s new cabbage-tree hat with wide-falling puggaree, clean moleskins, and an alpaca j coat carelessly put on over a fresh, bluecheeked shirt. He lifted his hat and leaped from the ibuggy, standing now before her, tall, muscular and prepossessing, full of cage* ( apology. 1 "I'm so awfully sorry to have kept you waiting. It's my not having been , the road before, and taking it too easy j at first to spare the horses. But, as , you see, we put the pace on this last j mile or two." The roan and the grey dripped sweat from their heaving flanks. "It's a good 13 miles, and they told mc , 12," said the young man. "Now, Mies ( Barnack, I expect you're pretty sick at • my excuses and are dying to get home. . Is this your kit? Do yon mind standing '. at Firebrand's head a moment while I heave up the bos?" He lifted G-wen's trung as if it had been a valise, and stowed it at the back . of the buggy, her bundle oi rugs ■with ii. "Yes, thanl- yon. My heavy luggage is coming later," Gwen replied stiffly. "All right. You get in, then, and we'll be off. Just let mc jump on to the bos. There! Can I help you?" disdained the proffered hand, and clambered unassisted to the seat beside him. He gave a few more encouraging Teps!" and tnrned the buggy. Dozer stepped out with brisker courage. Mrebrand vras a bit of a jibber, and required attention. Not till they had covered the first spur did the young man start con- j iTersation with his very cross companion. "Quite comfortable?" he asked. "Comfortable enough!" she rejoined, tartly. "I don't find the buggy springs any easier than they used to be." ■ '"Not likely these bad times. I ought to have greased them." "You?" ** Oh, well, Fm doing sort of handy ttp».ti this last day or two. Miss Baraack, I I don't know- how to apologise enough for having made you wait. . . . Hold up, Firebrand! No, you dont." And the ■whip descended on Firebrand's shoulder and- eovexed Owen's rather ungracious acceptance oi che apology. " And 1 i haven't given any of the messages and explanations your sister sent," added the yoong , man. "I should really like to know," said Gwen, haughtily resentful, " why none of my family have come to meet mc? 1 dont think it's kind—or—considerate— in the circumstances" —she could not help her voice faltering—" to let mc be met by a stranger." " Yes, I know; it must seem beastly unkind. Only I may say that I don't feel exactly a stranger—in the circumstances." Tip turned on Gwen a pair cf blue eyes and a> sunburnt, handsome face—almost as good to look at as Gwetfs own when Gwen was not in a bad temper. But in 1

he girl's present mood she was unresponive to his smile. j " I've got to explain why they didn't ome," he went on. " Mr. Barnaek meant o, but a butcher rode up this morning , m the look-out for a small mob of fat ; easts for Christmas. So your uncle vent out with all the hands to see what 1 ie could muster. That's why line here. , Gwen interrupted with repressed ire. i ' I should have thought my sister Mar- ; ory or Aunt Gertrude, who are both ( ond of driving, might have brought the < juggy. Or at least that one of them , night have come in it with you." '" Why, certainly, but 1 was going to ' ;ell you that Miss Marjory had a fall rom her horse la-st weeK, and sprained - ier aukle pretty badly, so that she's tied • jp on the sofa at present. And Mrs. 3arnack —well, the servant —there's only mc since the banks stopped payment — took French leave' yesterday, and your | lunt couldn't leave the butcher to cook ais own dinner, could she? —especially as the sale of those fats is a matter of im- j portance.". I '" Yes, yes, I understand now- Poor | Marjory! How horrid o£ nxe! " Gwen's I impulsive contrition was very fascinat- i ing. She looked at the young man with a half petulant, half-appealing smile. '"It's all the fault of this detestable old bush. I hate it!" " Oh, I say, Miss BarnatU. I can't let you abuse the bush. I'm a right-down bushman myself., and it's a grand place, I in spite of its ups and downs. There's | exciteinenx in them, too. We're having' a turn at the ' down ' just now. 1 went smash, like a lot of others, but a stroke of good luck put mc on my end again. Mc and my mate, you know. And that was a good job for your sister." " "Why a good job for my sister? And what has your mate got to do with it?" " You don't know that Miss Marjory and my mate are There! I've all i but put my foot into it. Of course, your sister would want to tell you herself." " I think that as my sister hasn't troubled to inform mc of this important piece of news, you needn't feel any scruple about doing so." "She hasn't had a chance," replied the young man. "It only happened yesterday." "It?" " She and my mate." " I suppose you mean that Marjory 13 engaged to your mate, whoever he may be?" '" That's about it. And he's the best chap ever born in Australia — Frank Haynes, of Tarilpa—you know." The young man had a touch, not too pronounced, of the Australian drawl. " No, I don't know.'" "Tarilpa. is on the Upper Übi. Wβ were partners there till the tank came down on us. Then we went prospecting. Thai was the stroke of luck. We cleared fifteen thousand apiece out of Consolation Reef. Now do you see?" " Yes. ... 1 see." "We bought Tarilpa on easy terms. Frank and your sister will live on the head station. I've free-selected a pretty twelve thousand acres down the river for "a homestead for myself." " And you are ? " 1 "1 forgot we hadn't been introduced. I'm Alec Grant." "Oh, I remember reading about you. You did something heroic, didn't you— saved a party of explorers and discovered Cape York?" Gwen looked interested. "No, the Dutch did that." He ignored the rest of the speech. "Gee up, Dozer! You must sit tight, Miss Barnaek. Here's a bit of corduroy." The buggy bumped over a stretch of I road mended with saplings laid crosswise. After that they struck the home paddock, and the horses stepped freely. Ballooma Mountain came in sight, the sun dipping to its peak. They were skirting the river scrub, whence came whiffs of wild jasmine and the smell of woody e&rth. A flight of cockatoos shrieked above them; the soft, singing sound in the she-oaks awoke in Gwen wild memI ories. The bush has a queer glamour which binds even the most unwilling of her children. The bushman watched it working. She intercepted one of his sideway admiring glances, and it wasn't in Gwen not to 1 respond to admiration. She talked quite ' confidingly of the life she had left, and her bitter disappointment over her baulked career. "You mightn't have been happy," he said. "How do you know you wouldn't have come a cropper over there, and that you're not been brought back for something much better? Everything is fated. I shouldn't wonder if you weren't glad some day." "Glad at having been forced to give up my art for that!" She waved her hand at a rough-looking patch of rung gum trees —gaunt, grey skeletons which ought to have been ! grabbed up and the roots burnt out for 1 a cultiva-tion-paddock. Funds must have

egg. She surprised the look in his eyes and blushed and dropped her own. The young man gave a conscious laugh.

failed for this. They were driving through these ghost 3 of trees towards a collection of slab, bark-roofed bnfldings with roomy verandahs connected by creeper-covered gangways. The place looked very untidy—saddles lying aboot the verandahs; a great heap of rough firewood; bullock-hides pegged to dry on the bark roof of the meat store. Carrion crows circled overhead. From the killing-yard, a little way off, came raucous notes of unclean birds mingling with the beliowings of a mob of cattle. A thick cloud of dust hid the posts and rails of the stockyard. "They bought in the fats all right," said Aiec Grant. Mr. Barnack, in Crimean shirt and soiled moleskins, red and perspiring after a. day on the run, was Gwen's first new impression of her relatives. "Hullo! Got up all right. Just in "mc for Christmas. My word, it's going 5 be a smoking hot one," was his greetig. The Barnacks were not a demontrative family. Then out came Gertrude Barnaek, the oung second wife, sleeves tucked up, rms floury, red from the fire. "Oh, Gwen! I expect you're hating s; but it was betteT to have you home hile there was money to cable for your assage. We couldn't tell that our bank lightn't be the next to go. It hasn't, nercifully, but we've put down every xtra hand, and I'm making scones and ookicg the dinner. So glad to see you, .ear." The right sort of squatter's wife was lertrude Barnack. "Gwen! Come here, Gwen!" called an ager voice from a lounge in the veran.ah. '"I can't move, or I'd have gone to neet you." All the emotion of Gwen's retnrn conentrated itself in the sister's embrace. Marjory was not as pretty as Gwen, >ut pretty enough, it was clear, to satiny the young man who had been hanging idoringly over her. Kor was Frank laynes as handsome as his partner. He :ad a stronger twang, 100, and seemed iltogether more "bushy." Gwen's antimhy for the native-born Australian nale revived. "Oh, Gwen, isn't he a dear man-thing? md aren't you surprised?' , when they rvere alone together. "Fancy mc being ;ngaged bsfore you! I'm certain, daring, that now you've tried the other ife you'll like the bush ever so much setter than your old ruins and broken jods and things " "Broken gods! You may well say -hat. Never —never." "Yes, you will. Of course, it isn't as f you'd made any particular success, iunt Rosamond wrote — jon know her iisagreeable way —that you'd never be as famous as Canova, let alone Praxiteles." Gwen burst out hotly. "What did A.unt Rosamond know about art!" She Ictested Aunt Kosamund. "Don't be cross, dear. Art isn't as jood, really, as being married to a man you love and having a nice home like I'arilpa. What do you think of Alec 3rantt" Marjory felt her way clumsily. 'i couldn't help feeling it was a sort of fate his being the only one who could meet you at the sliprails. He's going to stop till over New Year, and we mean to have a jolly bush Christmas, in spite of the bad times. I want you to be nice to Alec, Gwen." Marjory had no tact. After that, for i few days, Gwen was extremely standoffish with Alec Grant. But infjjfimitive conditions friendship or dislike ripens quickly. From Gwen's coming back it wanted a fortnight to Christmas. A bush Christmas isn't like an English one. How could it be, with the thermometer 102deg. Falir. in the shade? Primitive conditions, however, give opportunities for interesting dalliance between man and maid. From these lame Marjory and her lover secured full value, and naturally Grant fell to Gwen. The cook who had taken French leave seemed difficult to replace. Not even a selector's daughter was to be had on a job. So Mrs. Barnack made herself responsible in the kitchen, while incompetent, artistic Gwen rashly undertook the housework. The amateur handy-man assisted both. It was impossible to maintain an attitude of dignified aloofness with a young gentleman who helped you to wash up dishes, lay the table, sweep verandahs, and stone raisins for the Christmas cakes . The crisis came on Christinas Eve. Gwen was in the garden inspecting a gigantic bunch of Black Prince grapes, carefully guarded for the ChrUtmas dcs sert, and was considering whether she should cut the bunch now or keep it till the morrow, when Alec appeared, proudly balancing one on each palm, the first two melons of tht season '■There! I told you they'd be ready by Christmas Day. I'm going to cool them right away in the tank." With that he puc them, stalk upwards, iin at the found hole of a shallow waterI butt, which was half-sunk in the ground and was sheltered by the trellis of pas-sion-fruit on one side and by grape-vines on the other. '"This is the coolest place on the whol< station," he said. "There isn't water enough to cover these, and I'll fetch then out before the sun gets round here it the morning." Gwen decided that she would leave hei grapes. The two sat down on the wooder scaffolding that surrounded the tank. "Miss Barnack, you shouldn't bite a passion-fruit. You should suck it th< way a snake sucks an egg-" Gwen shuddered. "I'm fiightened o1 snakes. Black Billy says there are £ lot about." Alec took the top off a passion-fruil with his knife and handed it to her watching h-er with longing admiration as she put her pretty lips to the purple

"Kismet! If one is going to be bitten by a snake one will be bitten. If one is going to fall in love with a particular woman she is sure to cross one's path. As I said before, everything is fated. Some people are born nnder a hicky star, some are not. I'm one of those who aren't meant to be snuffed out " "By a snake."

"Or a woman. With mc what seems bad luck turns to good. I expect it's the same with you."

"Keally!" Gwea was disdainfully incredulous.

"Well, now, if the bank hadn't cornel down on mc and my mate we shouldn't i have struck Consolation Keei and got j ] Tarilpa back again. And Frank Hayuea i wouldn't have come here this Christmas, J < on the look-out for store cattle, to meet ! ( his fate. And I shouldn't have come over after him and met mine." i "Oh!" Gwea tossed away the passion- j fruit, avoiding his gaze. Grant proceeded ardently. ] •'lt was Fate that brought the butcher , up that day and sent all the men mustering except mc; Fate that made Marjory sprain her ankle; Fate that took mc in the buggy to the ahprails—to meet you. My lucky star smiled on mc then." Gwen rejoined orushiugly: "All I can say is that if you were born under a lucky star, I'm not so fortunate. It was "my evil fate which took mc away from all I wanted to do, and dropped mc down at Ballooma sliprails." "Now, I've got a feeling that Fate was saving you frooi worse disappointment. It seems cheeky of mc to say so, but it's what 1 believe and hope." '•Ah, you've no faith in mc as a sculptress. You've heard Aunt Rosamond's opinion." "I've heard nobodys opinion, but I know that it's the most magnificent and the most difficult thing in the world to make a fine statue. Very few people have done it since the old Greeks." " I didn't suppose you knew or cared ! much about statues —and the old Greeks," said Gwen. " Why not? A bushman. can read and think as well as ride after cattle — or '"' " Or? " she asked. ' "Or fall in love. Gwen, I can't keep it in any longer. The instant 1 set eyes ! on you, standing there by the sliprails, ' and looking the picture of " ■' Misery and ill-temper," she put in. 1 "Well, yes. No matter, 1 knew that you were the one woman in the world for ' mc, and that my star had led mc to ' her." " You are wrong." The words came as by compulsion. " No, I am not. Gwen, I love you. 1 1 shall never give up trying to win you, • and I feel in my heart that sooner or i later I shall win you. The more you stiffen against mc, and try to show mc i that you hate mc, the more I feel it." " I don't —hate —you," she said, slowly. ! He laughed triumphantly. "No, 1 knew i that. And if you were quite indifferent tou wouldn't pretend to hate mc. Dare ling, mightn't it be a little of the other , thing?" " The other thing?" t "Love, dearest. Will you marry mc, = Gwen?" "No, no, I shall never marry an Ausf tralian. I'm going back to Italy as i soon as they'll let mc. Don't ask mc any more, Alec." t And, as if afraid that he would press his suit beyond her powers of resistance, 5 she turned abruptly down the trellis of 3 passion-vines back to the house. Love and the weather seemed in ieague that Christmas. A thunderstorm during the night heartened beast, bird, insect and flower. A delicious dreamy excitement brooded over the garden. All nature hailed mating man and maid. Involuntarily Gwen and Alec looked across at each other when each opened the other's anonymously-bestowed gift. Gwen's token to him was a photograph of the Ariadne of the Vatican. He came straight to her and said, in a low voice: " Ariadne made a false start, you know, but her mate found her, notwithstanding-" Gwen looked down at *a queerly-shaped charm that lay in the palm of her hand. Alec's offering to each one of th» women was a tinj' nugget with a swivel-ring attached —a lucky stone from Consolation Reef. Gwen's "bore a curiously perfect resemblance to a heart. " You shouldn't have given mc this," she said." "It grew so," he answered, " and 1 meant it for a symbol of the other Australian heart that is yours and yours only, whether you choose to wear it here or throw it away if you decide upon going back to Italy."' A little iater they met by the grapevine. " I am going to fish up my melons," he said. " And will you please cut my bunch of grapes J"

He cut the stalk with his sharp bushman's knife and laid it in her leaf-lined basket. There were loquats and earlyfigs likewise to be gathered, and the girl and the man lingered over the plucking. A magpie on a bougn near trilled an acclamation; the butcher-birds hopped inquisitively on to the edge of the tank; a venturesome bower-bird pounced upon a fluff of silk torn by a thorn from Gwen's sash, and by-and-bye carried it off to beautify his bride's chamber. Alec ' Grant's hand, venturesome also, softly touched the frilleries of Gwen's sleeve. " I'm going oil to Consolation Mine to- , I morrow," he said, "unless you tell mc I that 1 may stay."'

Gwen's eyes grew very wide and soft as they watched the antics of the bower-bird, ' but she answered nothing. " It's Christmas Day," he pleaded, "Uh, Gwen, won't you make it the happiest Christinas of my whole life?" ** I—can't—do that," she eaid, with, the little falter that emboldened his fur-tively-caressing hand. It took her hand and raised it to his lips. She shrank, half-rebuking, half-ac-cepting, faintly protesting. "You waul ine to give up everything I'd set my heart on." lie touched the nogget charm which ■ she had let him fasten to a bangle at her "Wouldn't an Australian heart do in exchange—a, heart that's pure gold —for you—straight from the bush rock —an earnest of richer gold and deeper love— if that were possible—still?" She gathered her resolution. "No, I can't. Don't urge mc, Alec. You must take that as ray final answer. And I think you had better go hack to your mine and find more gold and grve it to someone who'll value it more." He dropped her hand at once. "Very welL To-morrow 1 shall start; but we won't let this spoil our Christmas. Only L warn you that I shall try again. . . . Well, these melons ought to have got fairiy iced by the hailstones last night." lie pulled up the sleeves of his spotless white coat and shirt, and plunged arm in at the round hole of the tank. Gwen saw the bower-bird hop away; she thought the sun dazzled her. She heard a stealthy displacement of the water, and a faint wash of it against the tank side; then a sadden splash and a grim exclamation. "By Jove! I'm bitten!" "Bitten! What—what is it?" she cried. "A snake I" He drew up his hand from the mouth of the tank; it held the melon by its stalk. On the back of the arm, just above the wrist, was an unmistakable mark—two little blue punctures round which a circle of red was beginning to spread. Grant looked at the mark, and hi* fac: paled and hardened; but he laughed. "Fate!" he said. "But I'm not going to be snuffed out—by a snake—or by a woman either." And he laughed again as he let the melon drop, and, pulling out his silk handkerchief, began to bind it round the arm as well as he could -with his left hand. In an instant Gwen was on her knees beside him. "Oh, let me—quick—quick!" "All right. Tie it just as tight as ever you can. Now rfly' knife i>on't come too close. I might stain your dress." He made a gash in the arm, from which the blood spouted, and stooped his head to it. But the girl was before him. With a passionate movement she put her lips to the wound and sucked it, the rod drops patching her cheeks ■and her dress, while with one hand she pushed back his face. For an instant he yielded himself to the ecstasy of that strange kiss; then almost roughly broke away. "Xo, no—Owen darling—lor heaven's sake! You nmsn't do that Oh, fnvcet— you love mc. You can't deny it now.-' . He had her in his arms. She, too, .cave hen-elf up to a moment of ecstasy; only a moment. She seized his arm. '"Come. Are you mad, Alec? Come , at once and get brandy—ammonia. Oh, . think what it means to mc!" I "I don't think of anything but that you love mc, and that you are uiv joy ' and my life. Dearest, don't be frightened. It will be all right. Perhaps that t was only a harmless water-snake after ' "Look! Look!" cried Gwen. Something brown and yellow and | shiny wriggled itself up over the edge of the tank, remaining just long encugh to verify Alec's words, and disappearing , with a flop and a gurgle of the watei within. The quick eye of the bushmar., and the girl's old-tinia experience of ' I/athes in the creek, identified the species at a glance. Here in the shallows of the tank an innocuous water-snake '■ had found not over-comfortable quarter?. "No poison there." said Alec. "We needn't . bother about brandy oi ammonia. Oh. Gwen, my darling, wasn't I right? Fate sometimes chooses 'iucer instrument? to shape her ends : We've got to thank that snake for the happiest Christmas of our Irs*"-"