SCENES OF THE NEW ZEALAND WAR.

Press, Volume XLVII, Issue 7747, 30 December 1890, Page 6

SCENES OF THE NEW ZEALAND WAR.

Bγ Aw Old Skttlxb. Major Stuart returned from the town* «bjp warm and hurried, before dinner. M j&exe is news in lvanhce," said he to his wife and daughter. The latter, who was laying the doth, for, when alone, they often dined in the sitting-room, said, « well done, what is it, father r ** Two hundred men from the East Coast to relieve the fifty Volunteers at Puke Rata (Bata Bill). There are several old friends amongst the officers, and many of the men belong to these parts, but what will interest you most, perhaps, / is that the garrison is commanded by Captain Leightou, your old friend ana » schoolfellow. "Yes,* , she said quietly, and left the room. When this quiet yooog lady reached the kitchen she placed both hands upon the table and leaned forward over it. Her face underwent ' 'many curious changes, which no man could have read correctly I deem, and, perhaps., no woman either." "Once more," she said, "oace more/ , and that was all. She took up a dish of potatoes, and save for a slightly heightened colour, such as the firs might well have caused oa each a day. Miss Stewart was Mary Bell again. "Thereseems to be no cause for these ,TOOvemeate, so far as people know, bttfc tnere are two hundred more men landed at the settlement; they came ail together. There have bees large supplies of warlike >»tores also landed, and report has it that ; toe Gundeguy is off to Auckland for more t RWer*,- -who are on the march «F»,from ,Upper Waikato. AH aeems g^^*Pf^P*«*thi»l«a eheapidaee lot mea to live, and contract pricestoeing m

generally low, they may be merely sent here till required elsewhere. We shall know, all in good time." — "Father," wid.Uary BeUat dinner, "I feel inclined foe a walk this af cernoon, and if you intend sending year little Christmae present as usual to poor Mrs Polgreen, I will take it, as cousin Tom is away, and will not be home till Christmas Etc/ , . *• Certainly, my dear, certainly," said the Major. "I would take it myself rather than it should be forgotten. Pack a good basket fall if you can manage to carry it, and don't forget a bottle or two of wine, to drink our healths in. I cannot bear to think of oar old servants being in want, or dining worse than we do at this season," he added. : Mrs Stewart advised an early start, and said she would attend to all house wore. A Maori basket was filled heavily with good things and away went Miss Mary. Bell Stewart Through a small gate in the back yard, through the vegetable garden, the pride of Mick's heart, down between long rows of peas in full bloom, and, oh! so sweet, the young girl thought. She stopped to pick a few of the clustering ripe strawberries, that literally hid the ground along the borders. She saw the heavy raspberries with their ripe and purple richness hanging from the bending canes, and thought of the young ones of the family she was about to visit. I wish I could take a few, she sighed, but it'a impossible; the contents of my kit are ol more value to them; and perhaps they have plenty. At all events, they have abundance of gooseberries, she thought, as she noticed the branches of those bushes breaking down to the ground with long red berries; yes, and plenty of fuchsias in the bush. When we were young, William and I, we knew no other fruit, save tnese wild berries. Wen, we were happy then; how things have changed; to be sure; it seems like a dream to look back to our childhood. So, under the red branches of cherries in the orchard, out into the field where j their two quiet little milking cows grazed knee deep in the rich young grass and clover, Yes, I mast get on—no more dreaming—l must.be back in time to milk you, youbeauties. bo, I have not a carrot i for you to-day Polly ; don't you see how I'm loaded, stupid 1 but, in truth, I forgot you. This to a pretty strawberry cow, which came up to her with low moo's of affection, or enquiry. Oat of the field, on to the Salisbury road,and soon past many a little homestead, with its luxuriant patch-garden in front. The quiet air rang with the rasping ring of the crosscut saw, as the men "logged up" for burning, or split posts and rails. The woodman's axe echoed on mauy side's, and now and then came the rush, the crash, and the roar and earth trembling thud,all combined in one sound, which told the downfall of some creat pine, some giant of the primeval forest, fallen to rise ao more. Occasionally came the cries of merry, healthy children, as, fat, and full, they enjoyed their games. On past the clearings, into the standing bush, . along a road that was a mere green tunnel, and out into the fine dazzling sunshine of a small forest clearing. "Op to a little gate the path Wound, and on to a small slab cottage in a little garden. The back settler's commencement of a farm and home, the poor man's beginning; his start on the road to posterity and wealth. The latch of the gate had scarcely clicked, when out of the cottage ran its comely middle-aged mistress. Rosy cheeks and dark blue eyes had she, a pleasant tone and manner: good all over to see and to hear, was Mrs Polgreen. > From the borders of Devonshire and Cornwall she came, and her " good man " was from Devonshire. She had lived in other parts of England, and long in the colony, but when speaking to her husband, or children, or in moments of any little excitement she fell back, more or less, into her old borne accent and patois. So now the good motherly dame ran dn. "Why, Miss Bell, dear, what a load he've got, to be sure; here, give it to I. You'm looking brave, though, brave, sure enough. I knew the Major wouldn't let Christmas pass without sending to we. Bat Lor I the kit's too heavy for 'c, my. dear. ' You should have sent un on by a man."- ••.■.'•,■■> .• ■ ,-.■-._ Miss Bell explained about Mick, etc. "L»s, iss, it's always the way wi' mum, to a busy time; her wouldn't get on the spree if her wasn't wanted to.whome. But come away in, come away in and rest, and have a cup of tea; kettle'U bile up in a minute. Iss, you be growed a brave maid, all in blue, too; blue dress, blue veil, blue ribbon on your hat. You remind mc of the old days, when they used to call he " Blue BelL" But I bant be sure if that wasn't after fhe old cow, though, as much as for your favourite colours. Ota, those children to skule be wicked enough for anything, they be." . ;, They had now entered the house. "How is Mr JPolgreen?" said Bell, shaking hands with him as he sat in an easy chair., " About the same; miss, thankee kindly, about the same." ' ■"' ' l ■■ ■■

He had been crushed under a fallen tree some six months before, and was still unable to get about without crutches. "The doctor," said his wife, "seed, man yisterday, and her saith that if he goth on improving like this he'll lance the back o* muQ sane. He saith there's some muskle, or string, home in's back that's tying or nn up. and if it's cut her might get all right. , * •'Oh I I do hope you will, Mr Polgreen. I hope the operation will not be very pain?

'' No, doctor saith it will not be worse than sharp pin's prick." They were now having tea—a cup—as they sat in their chairs. There came a loud noise of a child crying at the front gate. The mother flew to see, Miss Stewart went to the door to look. The gate being opened a child about four years of age entered, crying. . He Was black with mud, charcoal grimed, and dripping with dirty water from head to foot.

"O, you bastely little toad, ,, cried the mother. " There, don't come anmet mc. Wherever have he been, and what he been a doing of? And your clean pinnie on, and all. Clean on since dinner. - Then she took her apron off and wiped her offspring as well as she could. She could not show him without to the young lady at the door, or gee him past her.

"O, you filthy little toad; what have he been up tot"

The fine, rosy, healthy boy explained as well as he could that he had been playing at the log fire by the randdy creek at the back. The fire had blazed up and spit at him, burning bis face; so in hie fright he fell backwards into the muddy water. But these things were common enough in bush homes. Now, the young lady takes her way homewards, leaving grateful hearts and kindly feelings behind her. It was not for her present so much as for the true sympathy of her words and looks, the kindly thoughtfulness which prompted her to carry such a load in the hot sun. She left .the cottage iumates happier than she found them. Again through the forest road, out past the clearings on .to a point where the road made a sharp bend, an acute angle. The angle was a section of unfelled forest, and on the sharp point of the angle stood a giant rimu. She reached this point, and was just turning round the great tree which, hid all in front of her, when she met a man—almost ran against him, in fact. He started back and looked at her. while she stood still; the colour rose, and rose, in her cheeks. The man, dressed in an officer* undress uniform, without sword, bat with the more crusted revolver over his shoulder, hanging at his back. One short moment they stood thus, then the man almost Rasped out " Blue BeiL" "Yes, Blue Bell, Sweet William,"-re-sponded Miss Stewart, and a gleam of fun rose in her eyes. The first glance had shown her so much. She fell; relieved, mischievous even. ~ There was a pause. He felt it awkwardly, showing this in hia manner. . The pause was telling her a tale. She, though not usually given to hilarity, was beginning to feel inclined to laugh joyously. Then he said, for she would not hejp him, "Blue— that is—cr —Miss Stewart—" Another pause, a breakdown. She, "Sweet—er—that is Captain Leighton—er—what is it f m

"Oh! Mary Bell, don't," he almost groaned, " please don't." " Well, Captain, what is it, what did yon Intend, to say ! Were you coming to meet met Have you been to the house? Were you going to escort mc home V " No, I have—l have not called vet, I wanted—l meant to call to-morrow, or perhaps, tni* evening." Poor Captain, he would not say that he feared to call and learn the truth that he longedsomuch to know; that he kept hovering around the bouse, looking at It with longing eyes, but dreading to enter. How much of this the young lady was guessing, was reading in his restless, uneasy eyes, it would puzzle a man to say. . At length, when ac could contain himself no longer, this brave fellow, this .awkward minded young colonial soldier, blurted it all out in a heap with— '* Have you heard of Crazier lately % " " Heard of Crosier I**1 ** repeated the lady, in evidently unfeigned astonishment. "Heard of Crozier I And pray what's Crazier! a bulldog—a prize fighter, or what 1"

f He looked.ether In, blank amazement. He groaned as he said," Oh Blue Bell, ; Blue Bell, yoa are hard on mc." " Indeed, I do pot understand," said she more feelingly.'" "■What, He cried, not know, not remember St Crozier, of H.M-'s ship Die Hard." * .■,-•■■■ /: v •;■■•.• ■.:;■ . \ " Oh,eaid she, that Crozter, yes, now yon recall him to my mind of coarse X do, but he has not been here lor years. He was a good dancer, a capital partner, I remember, bat a yoang man I never liked; he seemed to mc Insincere and false." "Yoa never liked him ? can I believe it ? I saw him dancing with you frequently, or more than once, at 's ball at the settlement. His attentions seemed most, marked." " He certainly did try to get up some silly flirtation, she replied, "and said some foolish things, but so many young officers think ie necessary to do this, that | it would never do to take notice of their I nonsense in military society as ours was I then. , * , " Why he told me—he told mc "—said i the captain slowly—" it is painful, but I right that yon should know it; he said he was going to leave<the service as soon as he reached home, that he was coming back to ! New Zealand to settle down for* life, that that he was in treaty at that time for a considerable property in Auckland, and, that-" "Well," she cried impatiently, "what more?" "He said that yon were going to share his home—to become his wife in fact." Then that yoang lady's color rose, and her eyes flashed with anger and scorn, her hand so small, clenched and trembled. She stamped her foot with rage and impatience. "*Th"e wicked, wilful liarl" she cried, " and you—you believed him ? " "He was an officer, he had a right to expect belief—his story was clear and precise in all particulars. And I had seen him in your company at the ball mentioned." "So you believed him," she repeated, half to herself. " and you wrote that cool polite farewell note before going to the East Coast." " I wrote, I could not call—l volunteered for service, where the danger was greatest, where the bullets flew thickest. I was twice hit hard; bat here I am alive and well, thank God—thank God." He was going to say more, for his heart was fall, but she stopped him, saying— " I must be going, the evening is falling —Ihave my two cows to milk; Mick is ill, cousin Tom at the settlement." "But," said he, "mayn't I go with yon ? " "No" she replied, " decidedly not now, I'm busy." " But when can I see you, I—l must see youf " See mc, you silly boy, of cour«e you may, you can see mc. now, can't you ?,but T must go—good erenirig."" Then turning, back,-" you may,come, to the church tomorrow evening.' We shall be decorating for the Christmas service, and if you are good, you may stop to practice and take part in our service as you used to do. .You may come home with mc to" , tea. I'll | tell them I : met and invited you, this) evening. We are all female voices, and;j -want some men sadlyj for our singing must sound rather thmand piping to the" congregation." " " I willbe there," he said, and if you wish it I will bring, or ask them to come, two or three- men of my company ; they are splendid singers," he added, seeing some doubt on her face, " they have been used to singing in churches, can sing from notes and can take part in anything." " You know as well as I what is right," she replied. "do as you think best. Good evening." Their hands lingered together, and their eyes said more than their voices 'as they parted. Int.o the kitchen, but no j \ further, went Mary Bell. A■" sacque," as j I think she called it, was thrown over her i dress, a chirpy lifctle pork pie hat. took the place of the straw hat. She took two ; buckets off the fence and went to milk her -t cows. These cows were milked on the | grass: they came to the ringing of the i bucket's handle, putting back one leg, ! never kicking, but waiting patiently till finished. Such U the- custom around Ivan hoe. She milked one, and the woodman's axe was still ringing, the heavy beetle {mail) thudding and echoing. These sounds ceased. The tinkling of the bush cow? bells belonging to the neighbours was heard as they were driven home by the children. Mrs Petersen came out with her buckets, singing with clear high voice an old German song. Then «he broke off into a more lively and martial strain. When she ceased all was still. The dews of evening were falling; the white clover scented the air; clouds of mosquitoes came out singing their; wing* made music—a terror to the new-comer, unnoticed by Mary Bell. Black bats left their holes and circled, wheeling, overhead—snapping their sharp teeth as they caught their evening meal, snapping their leathery wings as they met in circling flight and quarrelled, or made love. ':••.. ' '"'■'•'■.. '.■■'.

Where are the bats gone now? Where the komakos? A late tui rests on the topmost branch of a dead tree, and chimes as though it were day dawn. Myriads of beetles and insects buzz and hum in the still air. Great green beetles an inch in length, and nearly an inch across the back, fly with loud whirring wings above the cows. The white milk foams and flies beneath the slender, busy, strong fingers of my young colonial .lady. The milk was carried in and strained in the little dairy beside Mick's room. At tea Mary Bell told her parents oi her meeting with the caprain. She concealed nothing—nothing ? Nothing of importance for them to know just yet, there are things, thoughts, and feelings which no maiden tells till she is obliged. Till all thing- are settled and the story must out, She said that she wished to be up early as there would be much to do, so early she retired to her little room. She »at and pondered by the open window, then she said a grateful Erayer and slept soundly. She was ealthy in mind and body.

The captain turned from his lady love, for such ehe undoubtedly was, and walked rapidly towards the village. Then he began to feel so light that he would take great leaps, four feet high, to clear some root or rut in the rough road. Next he sat down on a log. and stooping held his face between both hands. Dear Blue Bell, he thought, oh my love, my love. The same kind, honest face, the same true heart. My love she is, I know it, I feel it; oh lam I not happy ?

He got up.and hurried on. He was passing through the one broad street of the village when he met an old farmer that he knew well. The old man looked with his bright, keen, intelligent eyes and recognised him. Not a trace of grey in his hair; his voice was clear and sound; a settler of the olden stamp, a west country yeoman. , " Why, 'tis Cap'n Leightbn sure enough. And how be 'c Cap'n? You'm grown so I should hardly have knowedhe. But you'm looking brave, sure enough." " Good evening, farmder, and where be you off to this beautiful evening f. " Well, I be going down along so fur as Phip' Trefold's, down home to Eaton road: you mind his 01-i place." " Well, good evening, I must be off to the redoubt. How are all your people?' "They 'm amongst the middlings, amongst the middlings, thank be kindly cap'n. So we* mto have another brush with thaae blasted Moories, bant we cap'nf" "I don't know, I hope not." " Well we be, I can see it, in the eyes o men, and in their bastly sulky ways. They means it, no mistake, and they won't be long before they begins neither." " I hope not: your eyes keep right I hope, you must be getting old now?'

" las, I be, seven cy-four last May, and my eyeebe ao good as ever they was. Praise the Lord, and I can do a day's -work still. Not none of your rambustings, mind, but fair and steady, iss, I can so. Praise the Lord. But I must be jogging, its a long ways, a brave step to Phip'a. Then, cap'n will'e come round as fur as the ; Empire and have a glass along o mc." "No thank you, not now, some other time." , ■ ■ ;..-..

" Well, yoa might so well, don't; say no now if you'd rather had, you'm so welcome as the flowers of spring, you be." The captain again declined,, so they shook hands and parted. 'The old gentleman in his thoughts praising the Xrord for his mercies, and blasting the Maories for their Woodtbirstiness. When he' Was not so occupied, he was singing an endless sobKjt about " The Female Smuggler and toe Bold Commodore." When the captain reached Pake Rata, he went into his tent, and soon turned into his camp stretcher, to sleep and think. Within all the wide circle of virgin forest, surrounding the Ivanhoe clearings, there were not two happier hearts than'those of Blue Bell and Sweet William that night. It snch happiness could only last, what a world this would be. - : (To be continue^}.