THE LAND OF THE LEVEL ROAD.

Dominion, Volume 3, Issue 828, 28 May 1910, Page 6

THE LAND OF THE LEVEL ROAD.

111. ON A QUEEN CHARLOTTE SOUND

MAIL BOAT.

By Will Lawson. (All Rights Reserved.) Her fore-deck's littered with. bundles, Boxes climb to her railsFlour nud wire and benzine, Beer and butter and nails. 'And stowed away from the wind ana spray ... Somo bags of his Majesty's mails.

The Royal mail packet, Gannet, a trim littlo steam yacht that one.could almost pick up and run away with, lies at her berth at Picton on a sunny autumn morning. The water of the bay -is smooth and shining very mirror-like, between the steep near hills and the Portage Hills in the blue distance, with Mabel Island as a gem thrown - into the picture extravagantly. The clearness of the water is manifest when, through the clatter of hand-trucks bringing freight to the Gannet, there comes sauntering a bare-legged youth in shoes and overcoat. Stepping into one of the launches that line tho wharf, he throws off these impediments and stands revealed in bathing dress. Overboard he plunges with a delightful splash and gurgle of awakened waters and swims away, towards the big wharf. Even fifty yards away, every movement of his logs and arms' can be clearly seen, and the shoals of herrings his swimming disturbs.

The mail boat is duo to sail at a quarter past eight, yet at ton minutes past the hour the hand-carts are still bringing freight to her. Eight up to twenty, minutes past, shipments arrive and judging by the labels on the many-sized and various packages, every storekeeper in Picton has business - with tho outlying bays. „ "One of these days you'll get a shock, says the skipper to tho wheeler of tho last load. "You'll come strolling down hers and find, we're gone." At last the engine begins, to throb, smoke pours from the funnel as the fans ' are replenished and soon leaving the wharf and its loungers far astern, the Gannet settles down |to , her eight-knot .speed. The personnel of the craft is at Erst a little confusing. The man who spoke as the captain has disappeared into the engine-room where he is ' in sole possession, a quiet-eyed man dressed as a country-man is .steering, and a good-look-ing quarter-caste is examining the deckload of merchandise, evidently committing It to memory for expeditious discharge at the different ports of call. It transpires that the steersman is a settler, returning to his farm in Torv Channel. All these men know intimately the water-road between their homes and Picton and invariably take a trick at tho wheel when travelling in the Gannet. From the engine-room presently reappears the engineer who is also nominal captain and owner of the' vessel, a triple- association of offico rarely met with, but in this instance remarkably happy, since he has his property and coal bill in his absolute control. The steamer does not require much firing, running for a long time with a clear fire. Consequently her engineer-captain-owner spends most of his timt, on deck and can superintend the navigation of his ship. When it is added that this officer also owns and manages a farm it will be seen that the Sounds las its Admirable Crichton.

. Hugging tho shore closely ire head &way down-sound,'- the first atop ten miles away. There is a breeze which had not reached Picfbn when wo left, the waters glitter with that wonderful glitter- the Sounds always have on sunny days, due perhaps to the hills shutting off the soft side-light, and only the strong top-light streaming down on the tide—all 60unds-men call the water the tide, anywhere and everywhere! Away • over at the far side of the Sound, a bright splash leaps up, another, and another, till some twenty are seen. Then black bodies are observed—a. school nf■ porpoises, frequenters of these waters, particularly when bad weather is brewing . outside. The sunshine is ■ growing hotter, losing the suggestion of a misty air thatit'had v It'is. good to bo out in at, '-to'see tho : everlasting hills, and sea, and those sea-creatures revelling; in their freedom as civilized mankind can never revel; True, we are slipping through the water oven as they are, but the thump-thump of the engine, tho scrape of a shovel are notes that are not in nature's gamut, strive as they will to harmonise. Yet to ears and nerves tuned to the locomotive's scream, tho groaning of cars, and all the turmoil of a city, they more than harmonise—they are lost in the great silence.

As we pass a point and open up a pretty bay, with a house and. some sheds on the,beach, as though hemmed in between the hills and the tide, a column of white smoke suddenly rises, and drifts along the beach. At sight of it the steersman 6pins his wheel, and the engineer dives below. •"When they make a smoke, that means they want us to call," the captain explains. Cnto the'quiet bay we run till the engines cease their fret. The Gannet sweeps in a graceful curve to a position opposite the centre of the beach. Before she has stopped, the captain is over into the twelve-foot dinghy which tows astern, and is sculling swiftly in. Two women are on the beach tvith some cases of farm produce. Usually this bay is visited on the return journey, but today thore is freight for Te Awaite in the shape of the cases that are now being transferred to the dinghy. So these lonely women-settlers made that' pathetic little wisp of smoke float out among the grsnt hills, signalling as mankind has signalled since ages long ago. When the captain comes aboard again he carries a parcel in his hand containing fruit, a present from the shore.

"Try a Sound-grown apple," he says. 'And very fine apples they are. At the next bay to be visited a Maori comes out in a boat to meet us and takes the mail, some fencing-wire, and a quantity of provisions for a camping-party. Some «f the party are lounging on the beach where are two boats and a launch. One of them hails the boatman, "Got our kai,, Rewa?" A stentorian '"Yes" is bellowed back. 'A piccaninny in the stern of the boat stares big-eyed at the steamer. From the shore can be heard the shrill voice of a wahine, to whom no answer is vouchsafed. Soon after entering Tory Channel, we Btoppcd to land 200 bricks and several bags of cement which lie on tho • foredeck. A settler ■ here is enlarging his house and building a new chimney, and this .is the material for tho chimney, lie comes out in his boat, and assists our captain in getting the dinghy alongside and in loading her, in one large heap in the centre. When half the bricks are in the.settler says, "That's enough for one load." "Be blowed," says the captain, "I took five hundred in her last week." Ho admits in argument that three hundred would be nearer the mark, but all the time he keeps on loading, and gets the whole two hundred into the little craft. She looks as though her bottom would fall. out. The captain invites' the settler to step into her at tho opposite end to that occupied by him, and when this is cautiously done-there is just about three inches of free-board visible. Paddling carefully, she is navigated alongside a rocky ledge, where the bricks are unloaded.

"What about your sand?" the owner calls out. "I'll get that from To Awaito next Thursday," the settler replios. ' "Why not to-day?" "Haven't got me bags ready, and I can't keep you waiting." "Go on, got your bags, and I'll wait for vou. You can't waste weeks • like that." When the unloading is completed and thebags for the sand on board, the quieteyed man who has been steering says "Good-bye," rowing ashore in the other Bottler's boat. The wheel is taken by the brick-and-sand settler, who prove* to be energetic, good-natured, and talkative. A fresh fillip is given to the conversation of fee group about the wheel and the engine-room hatch. Ho wants to know the latest new 9 and the steamer-men want news from him—news of sheep and burns and grass-seed and Native leases. So, along this exquisite waterway, steams this little ship, with her cargo of merchandise and mails, and her atmosphere of keen commercialism—a symbol of the white man's occupation of this place where ' Nature had so long held sway.