Motu Wairua.

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 16 September 1925, Page 10

Motu Wairua.

CHAPTER XVI. Little as George, liked tliei looks of his new assistant on his arrival at the camp some hours later, he decided; to make the best of. what the Gdds offered, and meantime installed) him in Mike’s wliare, leaving instructions. Tn his new duties* until the next morning. Contrary to his expectations, the new assistant overseer, Hubbard he called himself, proved a capable man,, quick to pick up his new duties and punctual in getting the men started in the morning; though owing to Ms lack of personal cleanliness, George preferred to attend 1 to liis. own cooking and housekeeping. Some* three days of this was sufficient to convince Turner that at any cost he must get Mike back to the main camp, andi transfer the newcomer to the camp now under Mike’s charge.

Much to Mike’s delight the ehaugeoyesr was affected almost at once, and delighted to be. once more in personal attendance on his beloved Cap’n, he excelled himself in giving Turner’s quarter® a thorough spring cleaning.

“Oi’ve ni-ver seen that much ontidines9 collect itself in the same, toiniei before, Cap’n. Sliure, ver needs someone meself ter look after -yers, yer do. Begorra, Oi’m thinkiu’ Mr. Bloomin’ ’JJbbard is where .lie rightly belongs whin lie’s quartered Avid tliim natives, ”

The, day’s work was usually so- exacting that George, felt little inclined for nocturnal excursions, but Mike, having reported that the Maori workmen in the main camp were distinctly pervous and morose since his return, Turner thought it advisable to walk round one evening and leam from Hubbardi whether lie had noticed the same symptoms in those under Ms charge, and if So, whether the change in t.hejr behaviour could be traced to the influence of any of the newcomers.

So far, apart from ocasional attempts. at shirking such as Mike had nipped iu the bud, they had found the Maoris'excellent and contented workmen, but this seemed now to have entirely changed. During their leisure time, spiall knots of men would gather together, intently discussing some subject which was always promptly dropped on the approach of either George or Mike. fn place of the usual smiling greetings, the Maoris now returned sullen, suspicious glances and even the most every-day event, such as the cry of warning from one of their; mates when a. tree bigger than usual was about, to crash to earth, caused them to da-op their tools and gaze terror-stricken from one. to another. Peeling that if he were* to. maintain the morale, of Ms men he must unearth the disturbing factor at once, George made Jiis way round the cove to Hubbard’s wliare, expecting to find him possibly, in bed, or about; to. retire. What was his surprise when arriving at the camp to find all the whores in total darkness —no sigh of life anywhere.

After vainly examining a, number of the living quarters for inhabitants who might 'be able to .enlighten: him a? to the whereabouts of Hubbard, George approached the largest building, _if such it might be termed. This building, thei cook-house, stood) apart some little distance from the others, and as ho approached] it, George, was conscious of a droning voice issuing therefrom. Wondering, what could be in progress, but feeling that here at any rate was someone who could enlighten him as to his foreman’s whereabouts. George approached the building. There, before him, a silent audience, sat the Maoris, the outlines of their crouching figures dimly illumined by the glow of a fire occupying the centre of the floor, the whites of their eves gleaming in the dark shadows; while walking slowly backwards and! forwards, in the centre of the assembled natives, and addressing them in a monotonous chant in their own tongue, strode Hubbard. Little enough did George know of the Maori language; enough merely to make his pidgin English intelligible to his workmen, but he had sufficient knowledge to convince him that Hubbard must have spent many years amongst the Maoris —a pakeha-Maori probably —to acquire the facility with which he spoke their tongue. Further, from the few words of which he could gather the meaning, Hubbard was working his audience up to a fine state of nervous excitement with tales of the wrath of the Atua for various offences committed by them.

From where h© stood 1 , shrouded in the shadows of the overhanging trees, George could 1 watch the whole proceediugs with little risk of detection, but feeling that, the entertainment, if that, was what it was, had gone far enough, lie sharply, called Hubbard by name. The effect was electrical. Up pimped the Maoris, surging and struggling out. through the open doorway, with wild yells of terror, scattering hither and thither to their wliares, where they hid themselves, and within a short two minutes none: but Hubbard and. himself were left in the cook-house. Realising that before him stood the person of the trouble-maker,. George decided to give him short shrift, and walking up seized: the man by the arm. “So you are the skunk who- has been stirring up mischief with the Maoris, eh? Well, outi you go, neck and crop. The ‘Gull’ leaves at. daylight to-morrow, and if you’re not on boari. I’ll give you the thrashing of your life. Now get!’’ “Who th© devil do you reckon you are, anyway? Tellin’ meter get out. I’ll take no bloomin’ sack from the likes o’ you. I’ll take me orders from Mr. Chester—so put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mister.’’ Enraged the more that what he. said was largely true, George swung round on the sneering man.

“Right vou are, my lad. Take your orders from Mr. Chester, but mealitime I’ll make you wish you were safe back in Auckland amongst vom- own scum,” and suiting the action to the word, he swung a solid right-hander to the sneering mouth so close to him. Down went the astonished Hubbard, but like a eat was up again in a flash and flying at George. Now in his hand the. bare blade of a dangerous looking sheath-knife gleamed in. the firelight.

Realising that unarmed he would probably come out of the encountei very badly, Georg© felt that any method of defence was justified, and qis Hubbard rushed to the attack, met his charge, with the. sole of. his boot planted fairly in the pit of tli e other man’s stomach.

(THE ISLAND OF SPIRITS)

By H. BRERETON

Author of “The buck oj Old Harry.

With a grunt, Hubbard collapsed,_ fl limp inert mass on. the floor*, while from his nerveless fingers the deadly knife fell clattering among the pots and. pans. Seizing the now helpless and gasping man by the collar, George dragged him to his feet, and in anything but a gentle manner propelled him to his wliare. Arrived there, he threw him to a seat on the edge of liis bunk.^ “Now you scum, what’s the little game? Out with it.” “Aw, go ter hell!” was all the response he could elicit from the bloodsmir.clied 1 creature, so, feeling that no information could ibej gleaned from this source without resorting to measures which he felt were hardly justified, George left him. with one final Avarnirig of the fate that* Avould be his Avere. he to be found on the island after the “Gull” had sailed next morning.

On his return to the main camp, late as the hour was, George Avakene.d' Mike, and after a brief recital of .the events of the evening, .told him that he intended visiting Chester at once; to report the matter and! explain his action in sacking the ne.Av foreman. “Bedad, Cap’ll, and Oi’m Avid yer. Jist Avan shake o’ a duck’s paAv and Oi’ll have one shirt and pants on me.” “Oh, there’s no necessity for you to come, Mike. You stay in bunk and get all. the sleep you can. You’ll need all your energy to-morroAV. ” “Necessity, be damned, Cap’n, if ye’ll excuse Uie langAvidge. Oi’ni wid yer, and bedad Ave’ll make the journey shorter be tailin’ the little boat for a midnight cruise.” “Not a bad idea, Mike, if you feel up to it, I will enjoy your company. I’m. certainly not hankering for a walk to the wharf and! .back.” Within a few minutes the small boat was launched, and each taking an, oar, she sped sAviftlv across the dark Avater. slightly choppy in the stiff breeze Avhicli for the; last Aveek had been bloAving over the island, bringing to their ears the boom of the great Pacific rollers as they surged against, their rock-bound fit tie island.

In spite of the adverse AA*ind they succeeded in making good headway, when suddenly, George, Avho had the stroke oar, sat up straight, receiving a. sharp bump in the small of the. back from the. still busily TOAving Mike. “Sorry, Cap’n, AAdiat’s the matter Avid y.er?”

“Mike, I’m certain I saw a flash of light over there. Yes, there it- is again—over there by the, neAv camp. Did you see it? Ah! - There it is* again. Noay AA-hat the dickens can that mean? I Avonder if that blighter Hubbard, is signalling to someone? ’ ’ “Well, Cap’n, it avu! be a bit of a joke if we Avast o. catch the spalpeen what lie’s signallin’ to.” “Yes, I think avo had better push on to our destination. We could not catch the man aa*lio- is signalling even if Ave were to i-oav straight back; he’d see us coming, I’A-e no doubt.” HoAvever, events entirely outside their control were to decide; the matter for them.

Hardly had they pulled another dozen strokes, Avhen over the Avater, borne by the fitful breeze, came a* deep wailing note, rising sharply to a shrill scream as of agony, then again dying to silence, only to be repeated time after time.

So eerie was the sound that Turner, though realising that it could not- possibly, from its volume, be a human cry, felt shudders run up and down his back, and the hair on his head felti as though it was standing on end. Turning to 'Mike, he saw a- face transfixed with fear. Mouth open and eyes staring, this Irishman, who had laughed at death by the 1 Hun bullets, trembled now in abject fear. “Mothero’ Christ, Cap’ll! Did yer hear that?” What he himself looked: like in the pale moonlight, Turner did not know, but long associaion during .the. war With men in situations of panic “had taught him that whatever befell he must keep his head. To him now came a little of that spirit which makes light of danger. “Of course I heard it Mike; some fool having a practical joke, I expect, ’ ’ “Begorra, Cap’ll, it’s spirruts—spirruts o’ the dead, and they’re callin’ us, Cap’n.” “Don’t be a damn fool, Mike. Spirits don’t call with a voice like a steam siren. Pull yourself together pian.” “Holy Mother! Hark at that! It’s the banshee. Oh! Spare us!” and the erstwhile courageous Mike cringed trembling in the boat, which now, side on to the choppy waves, 'rocked and pitched in aij alarming manner. Seeing the hopelessness of getting any sense into- Mike, Turner took both oars, and. quickly righting the boat, pulled back towards their starting point. The ghosty wailing, repeated, at intervals. only spurred him to greater effort, and. slowly, too, Mike, finding that no immediate ill-fate overtook him, gavo up the mumbling of incoherent prayers and took an intelligent interest* in his surroundings. He it. wnS who advised George that the mysterious Availing had produced disastrous effects on the. Maori workmen.

Looking round, George perceived the beach alive with glimmering lights, all making towards the Avharf. “Lord, Mike, its a stampede. They’re making for the ‘Gull.’ What caii A\ r e do to stop them?” (To be .continued.)