JERRY'S MAD IDEA.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 85, 11 April 1931, Page 2 (Supplement)

JERRY'S MAD IDEA.

(By Nora Shipmaa, Portland, North Auckland, aged 17.) It was Jerry's idea—no one but Jerry could think of such idiotic, absolutely asinine ideas. Of course, we did get a new bike each as an indirect result of the affair, but nevertheless it remains a mad idea. Who ever heard of three youngsters setting off on a wild pig hunt in the heart of the Northland bush? No one, until Jerry suggested it, but then he would. We were lying in the orchard among the sweet smelling grasses, sharing apples with the codlin moths, when he first spoke of it. "Come on, you two," he urged, "we'd get some spiffing fun dodging after a bit of wild bacon!" "And a lot more fun if the wild bacon started to dodge after us!" I remarked. "Trust you!" replied Jerry, scathingly, and added, "but that's- what a girl would say and girls are cowards, anyway." "Say that again!" I shouted, wrathfully, making a grab for him, but he just wriggled around the other side of the tree, and I merely clutched wildly into space. "Well," continued Jerry, "I dare you to come pig hunting in McGrath's bush to-day!" "When do we start," I answered hotly, "I'm ready.-" Now I come to think of it, it was only Jerry's clever way of antagonising me into going. However, five minutes later found the three of us (for where I went, Lance, my twin, went -too), armed with a bamboo stick, dad's ,old broom, and a tomahawk, setting out for the hills. Needless to' say we didn't tell mum. As we crossed the road on our way wo the foothills, a notice attached to the sign-post caught our attentipu. This was the Auckland Road, and notices seldom appeared of any inteiest. All agog with curiosity, we proceeded to investigate. It read: "Lost, from Allan's Circus, a black and white performing terrier, answering to the name of Prince. Handsome reward." "Why • that must be the circus we ■went to in Portland," said Lance. "You remember that dog we saw jumping through hoops " As we proceeded, we talked about the dog and what (Slender chances we had of finding jt. a At last we reached the bush and began searching for the pigs, but an i hour passed a»d w.e didn't even hear a grunt. They were conspicuous by then absence. When we came to a pool ot water wo called a halt, and Lanee and I lay down under a big ppJiutuKawa tree, but Jerry (dad says he was born with springs) called outi f "Watch me pole-jump that clump ot mesquite." Jerry's "mesquite was bush lawyer, ibut just now lies crazy on cowboy books, and so every m 0 savours of the Wild West.. even pretends that he's like Buffalo Bill.) He went over beautifully, planting his ■pole right in the middle of the clump. Prom the—er —.mesquite proceeded a series of grunts, squeaks and every other conceivable noise a pig and ner litter can make. . /" , i We jumped up, watching the baby pigs running in all directions. But the mother pig took a violent dislike to us, and advanced with a rush. She must have thought we wanted her family, and we wouldn't have had them as a gitt. Anyway, even Jerry forgot his lordly boasts, and we all three turned and made for the po'nd. Right up to our pecks we went in the dirty, slimy water, and there was that crazy pig running round and round the pond, squealing on i. -JU A Presently several magpies, disturbed by the row, began chattering from the tops of the trees, •while we just stood there in that filthy po'nd thinking no, I guess our thoughts had better _ be private. "Well, 'Brains,' there's your bit of wild bacon?" I said sarcastically. "And pow, what^ do we do?" "Oh, dry •up!" replied Jerry shortly. And then a faint bark reached our ears. "What was that?" we cried simultaneously. "A bark! Maybe its-— Again came the sound, and all eyes turned to .* dump of bracken, and, would you believe ft, there lay a bla-ok and white terrier (Jog, evidently b%dly Vnrt.

Lance moved to get it, but Lady Pig seemed to resent his action, so much that he remained where he was. "I hope that pig gets fifteen different kinds of illnesses all at once," said Jerry. "Make it sixteen," I agreed, fervently. What priceless asses we must havq looked, a-j we stood there in the water, unable to get to the dog, and with a frenzied pig trotting around us. Jerry shrieked. Lance yelled, and I positively bawled, but though we strained our ears, only the twitterings of the rewarewas and the magpies, senseless chatter could be heard. At. last, after our umpteenth serenade, we heard an answering call, and I was never so glad to see anyone as I was to see that sturdy bushma'n. He simply raised his axe and went for the brute, who was still patrolling the edge of oar water refuge. However, at the sight of the axe, it decided discretion was the better part of valour, and disappeared into the undergrowth. And so we found Prince, and the circus owners presented us each with a ripping new bicycle. Jerry says if it hadn't been for him we'd iiever have crone pig hunting, and so we'd never have found Prince, and we wouldn't have our bikes. But even that doesn't make the idea of us kids going pig hunting any more sensible. It was a mad idea. I wonder what his next will 'be?