NEW ZEALAND BUSH LIFE FORTY YEARS AGO.

Marlborough Express, Volume XLI, Issue 227, 25 September 1907, Page 2

NEW ZEALAND BUSH LIFE FORTY YEARS AGO.

No. II

A FUNERAL AND SOME MEDICAL MATTERS.

By the Rev. Canon Haseldon, in Auckland Herald.

The health of the people who settled in the bush between forty and fifty years ago was wonderfully good. Only people in good health and strength cared to venture into the biisli, miles and miles away from any doctor or chemist's shop. Both. they and their children were generally strong and well, but at times tbe skill of a doctor was sadly needed, and the want of it caused much suffering, and now and then pathetic scenes. . How typhoid fever came to the family of a most respectable settler, ! whose wife was a model for good managers even, let alone bad ones, was hard to say. But come it did, and that family had a very hard time, although they lost no lives. The wife of a working-man settler, with that wonderful self-sacrifice and true kindness which so many hard-Avorking women show towards one another, offered to do the washin p- for the family, when the typhoid had already attacked three or four of the members. The clothes ••■weve taken a distance of seven miles to her house, and for some weeks she fulfilled her labor of love. Then she was taken ill. She did not give in or tell anyone how bad she was. Her family also became ill and although they recovered, the tired, overworked woman, who had so kindly helped others, never rallied. Tbe fever with her ran its course, in that lonely isolated home, situated on the top of a fern range and with one solitary gum tree growing by its side, and she died! Typhoid fever causes no fear today, where there is skilled nursing, but in those days and with all the circumstances surrounding that death, brave people even dreaded what might come in consequence of their performing the last offices of the dead for her. The settlers for miles round assembled for the funeral. They kept a bit away from the house and well on the windward side. A good man, who had been a dispenser in ,the army and seen some awfuJ sights in his time, and his good wife, did what had to be done, for, of course, there was no undertaker in the settlement. Then the coffin was carried oat and placed in a dray— the best hearse that the settlement afforded—-and the long, struggling procession of sterling pioneer settlers of all kinds, and women and young lads, went up and down those fernclad hills till our bush cemetery was reached. There w,as no clergyman who could possibly come, but such absence was not felt, for old Mr Anglican, who had been licensed by Bishop Selwyn as lay reader, was there, and he took the service of the Church of England in a more calmly, grand, and dignified manner than most of the clergy I have ever heard. It was all very solemn. The shadow of death seemed to be hanging over all, for none could then tell which homestead would next be attacked. The strong, clear voice of the whitehaired, handsome old lay-reader, brought out one by one the points of the apostle's argument for immortality and the resurrection from the dead, as contained in the wonderful chapter of the burial service. Our people tlid not cry much. I think life was too stern and hard, and they were, too strong and real for that weakness. They did not* believe in emotions : but there were many eves ivhich could not see the bush-clad hill on one side or the long, steep gully which stretched away on the other towards the sea, which sparkled in the distance; and once old Mr Anglican had to, stop reading for a minute, and the next sentence was said in a voice which sounded deep down and had more of sorrow than of triumph and certain hope, which was the usual note of his high, clear tones.

There were often funerals in our bush settlement, but none were quite as touching as that one. During the long, years that have passed since then I have always thought of that poor, hard-working woman as of one who gave her life in the simple endeavour to help other people in their trouble, and what she did for them will surely not lose its reward? " No doctor that can be got within at least three days!" That sounds pretty bad to people living in a wellsettled district nowadays; but it was even worse than that in some places. If rivers were flooded word could not be got to the doctor, nor could the doctor get to the sufferer for many days. - " Supposing you got the nearest doctor," I think I hear some say, " what sort of a man would he be?"

One bush doctor I knew was a gentle, dear, old man. It did a sick man good to have his kind, sympathetic presence in the room. He was a Christian English gentleman, and his diploma was most respectable. There never w ras a man more devoid of humbug than he, and if he could not perform wonderful medical or surgical feats, he still relieved much suffering, saved many a life, and never humbugged a patient or took a penny he had not earned. Another bush doctor was an accomplished, clever man, who did moral as well as physical good to everyone with whom he came in contact.

" Ah, sir," said an old woman to me, '*' I often wonder what Blank Blank district has done that the Almighty should so bless us in our doctor."

But there were other kinds of bush doctors. Once a settler's wife dislocated a bone so badly that only a skilled man could set it. Some young men rode for the doctor to a settlement about 25 miles distant. As usual he was in one of the stages of drunkenness. He would not come with them until they bribed him with promises of liquor, which they had 'to buy and carry with them for the purpose. They got him over that journey by the promises and payment of judiciously administered nips. When he was too drunk for them to keep him on his horse they let him sleep awhile, and then got him on again another mile or two, until at last the woman's home was reached. Then he had to be washed and put to bed; after a few hours' sleep he awoke and was in his senses. Then he took a light meal and did his work in the most skilful manner. It is many years ago, and he has been dead a' long time, but as I write I seem to see once more his fine massive head and high, intellectual forehead, and the type of manhood that pictures represent John Bright to have been. When away from the drink lie was simply a delightful man to be with, and would probably have attained great eminence in his pro-' fession. When he was out of the j

reach of drink for a few hours, people admired him, were charmed by him, and almost loved him; but when he was within reach of drink they despised, loathed, and well-nigh hated him.

Another bush doctor was a man utterly devoid of ordinary ability. He could get drunk thoroughly, but that was about all he could do in a thorough manner. He did not do that very often. Once he pulled, and dragged, and wrenched at a lad's tooth for about twenty minutes. The tooth is not out yet, and that was in the 'sixties. Once lie was attending a settler's wife, and all he did was to walk up and down the house saying, '*' I don't know what to do, I am sure I don't know what to do."

. A dear old Christian lady, who waa herself the mother of a large family, did everything that was done for the settler's wife, and a few weeks ago I saw her baby, now a middle-aged woman.

Ah me, the pioneer settlers went through experiences, not with cannibal Maoris like the missionaries of an earlier generation, but in the life they had to live, that makes one shudder to think of now. Their pluck was grand. Only a short time ago a splendid-looking young constable reminded me that I had known him when he was a boy. Yes, I had, and knew his father, and how 40 years ago he, a man with a wooden leg, had carried a hundred-weight sack of flour on his back for about two miles through the bush, where there was hardly a track, and on that awful journey the wooden leg caught in a root and he fell and rolled right over into a hole with the bag of flour upon him, and night was coming on! That man had pluck, I think, and I rejoice to know that he has prospered in the bush. Men like him have helped to build up our national life, and make it so easy for other people to live in New Zealand to-day.

The utter impossibility of obtaining medical assistance made the settlers wonderfully self-reliant,and some very good surgery was shown, whisli y.*as solely dictated by common-sense. I never knew or heard of a typical settler doing the mad things to the sick and injured that I have known done by pome dwellers in towns. For utter folly and mad cruelty, done with the kindest motives, what a chief steward of one of our small coastal steamers did to a sailor, would perhaps be hard to out-do. One night the ship's boat left the steamer and went up a dirty tidal creek at nearly low water. It was midwinter and a frosty night, and the cold was intense. On arrival at a jetty a sailor put his hand over the side to catch hold, but the boat had too much way on, and his hand was crushed between the boat and a pile. When a light was obtained and the extent of the injury seen, the chief steward seized the man by the arm and plunged his hand into the cold and muddy water, and held it there. The sailor cried out with the dreadful pain, but the steward in affectionate terms and with the air of one who knew exactly what to do, and was most experienced in such matters, assured him it was the very best thing, and would make his hand all right in no time. Cf course it took many months for that hand to heal, and it was always a trouble to the sailor.

In contrast to this let me tell the story of two bush boys. They were alone upon a farm one day, when the younger, playing with a new twobladed knife, stuck one blade firmly into the ground, the other blade open and sticking straight up, and then he fell upon it. The result was a dreadful cut in the thick flesh of the leg above the knee. The elder lad carried the younger into the house, then bound a handkerchief above the wound to stop the blood flowing from the upper part of the body. There was no sticking plaster in the house to hold the wound together. The cut was such that the edges could not be kept close with any bandages unless they were so tight as to stop i.'ir i-:r----culation of the blood. The ell-ir lid was puzzled what to do: so they had prayers, then the elder said that when he was at school in Auckland he had cut his head open and the doctor had sewn it up, and the only thing was to sew the leg up. This sounded awful to the younger boy, so the elder told him stories of heroes and martyrs, and said if he wanted to ride well and to run well and to play cricket well, he must have a sound leg, and the only way to make the leg sound was to sew him up. Then the little chap consented, and with a common needle and strong white cotton the wound was carefully drawn together. Of course the boy was in splendid health, and the whole sur-

roundings wholesome, and the wound healed completely, and left but a faint scar and no perceptible hole or even weakness. Clergymen on Home mission duty have often done excellent medical and surgical dork with none of the ordinary appliances available. Lives have been saved by the rule of commonsense treatment, a good nerve and the inspiring of the sick with feelings of hope and confidence, and soothing them to rest with calm and gentle talk. The many cases 1 could mention shall be passed over and only one story told. Once, years ago, a clergyman, not now a resident in this island, was taking a week's Home mission wo*1 -*- He was away in the bush. He had ridden some miles without seeing a house, when just at noon he came to a homestead a little way from the road. A woman came to the door and waved and beckoned him to come up to the house. Of course he never intended to pass by without going in, for was part of Home mission duty to visit every house one could. he rode up, and the settler's wife told ; him what was the matter, and that she was quite alone. He said re i Avould gallop to the nearest settlement and bring some woman to her. She assured him it was impossible to get anyone there for some hours, and that her husband even could not be home until sun-down. Then she begged him to turn his horse into the paddock and to stay with her. On, sir," she said, " God has sent you to me, do not leave me now." That ! settled it. He went in and told her jto tell him all he could do to help her. Then, of course, they had prayers together, and the Heavenly Father sent the sanctifying peace to their minds, and they waited.

The woman was right. Her husband did not come home until the sun was down. As he rode up to his house, he looked to see his dear wife on her usual spot out for him. She was not there; but everything seemed to his experienced eye all right. The cow had evidently been milked, for she was lying down chewing her cud. The calf had evidently been fed, for it was tearing round the little calf paddock in the manner of calves that have slept through the warm hours of the summer day and enjoy the cool for exercise after feeding-time is past. When he entered the house the husband saw that the table was spread for the evening meal, though things looked different to what they generally did when his wife laid the table. On the fire the evening meal was cooking, and calmly stirring some milk food, such as all tradition says is good for young mothers, stood a black-coated man.

The husband was told to wash himself very carefulfy and brush his clothes, and take oft his boots, so as not to make a noise. This he did, and then he tapped gently at his wife's door and went in. The room looked very spick and span, and in the bed lay his wife with a look of sweet contentment and possession on her face. She drew his head close to her and ran her fingers through his hair, and gave a little sob of joy. And then she drew aside the white handkerchief, and the husband saw nestling in her arm a dear little baby, probably the only baby in New Zealand that had been washed and dressed for "the first time by a clergyman on Home mission duty.