THE PARUA GHOST

Northern Advocate, 20 December 1920, Page 3

THE PARUA GHOST

THRILLS AND SHIVERS.

GOOD OLD DAYS RECALLED.

■. It was in ..the old lang syne, the . 'good old days, the dear old days when [New Zealand was truly the workers' .paradise, when food and clothing were plentiful, though .money was scarce; ihe day*of equal opportunity,. We were (not so civilised then, but we were a free people in a free country. If we wanted a little civilisation we could always go to Auckland when we liked, whether rich or poor. The fare was only'Sl return. There was not the risk of walking the streets all night. Except at.-rush .times, such as Christmas \o v Easter, there was 10r..* of room everyjwhere. Beds at good home-like board-ling-houses were Is and Is for a meal; jat high grade hotels 2a for a bed and ' perhaps Is 6d for a meal, and a welcome too. One was not looked upon with suspicion and asked to pay in advance either, but welcomed as a friend. If a poor worker wanted a holiday or was ill the return fare to Rotorua was j only 10s 4d at excursion times. Only the- rich can .go now. Class distinction you see. We were a true democracy then. It was the man, not his occupation nor his religion. We'-i. the old {road from Parua to the Heads was ithere then as it is now; a good road, j summer or winter. I have ridden over it il believe every hour of the 24 in all ■ weathers and in all seasons; along the ; flat past the old school house, where the 'road branches to Taranui and Pataua and then up the long hill and over the spur to the straight, perhaps threequarters of a mile long, to the opening, of the winding gully among the fern hills through which on a cold night you first caught the miiu air from the ocean. At the sharp turn where the old track branches off tyche Waikare and the gum land a myst jry was spoken of in subdued voices. The old people of those days had brought froni their Scotch ancestry, a touch of the ancient" folk superstition. The place was haunted. People had been seen and disappeared, white figures had shadowed riders at night. One afternoon in broad daylight a lady was riding along the flat from Parua. Some distance infront walked an oil man, bent with the weight of years and his load. ■ She tried to overtake him, but when she {reached the "place he hod totally vanfishd. Girls were afraid to go that road fat night, but it was 'not necessary, in those days, for no one .hought of seavjing a dance in the Parua Hall till day4ight did at least appear. I was.young [then and not afraid of ghosts, and one starlight night I borrowed a horse to ride to Parua Bay: I caught the horse first' and then rode to its owner's house to ask for the Joan of it. That was the custom then, when everyone kept open house, when the traveller was always welcome. ' 'Come in and rest and.tell us your news;,'' and on to the fire went the kettle. It was-an-of-fence'" to leave without taking a s-one and a cup of tea. We called anywhere, and were sure of welcome. In these civilised days—so like England you know —we must wait till we are invited or send a note beforehand so that preparations may be made and style forthcoming. But I am-forgetting the horse. Ho was quite a safe one, especially on his feet, if he were apt to shy. or even to' bolt—a bright chestnut, with "a white star on his forehead. His me see—l forget. No, Trenton, that was it; a broMicr of old Circus, who used to collect all the horses inthe Heads and then go down to Geo. McLeod"s and open the gate (the •cunning old chap knew how to manipulate •the latch) and let then- all into the paddock. That reminds me too that Ngunguru races are. to. be resuscitated. Trenton was once entered "for these samo racs and taken to Ngunguru and comfortably housed for'the night in a stable In the morning Trenton was gone; so was the stable, only thY'piecss were left. Now that night you may hi sure I had the ghost "in my mind, but being braver then than now it did not matter. It was only 'fancy; a legacy of Highland folk! lore bequeathed to the descendants of the old clans. However all went well till just as the end of the gully among the' fern hills was passed and the famous corner was in sight. Prop 11 went Trenton j I was a good rider then cr should probably have come off, as he turned sharp at right angles or rather left angles, leaped up a low sidling and up 'fnto tho fern hill some distance before I stopped him. There he stood shivering a little. Here, thought I, it is. The ghost without a doubt, and in that'awful moment I am proud to say I felt no fear, but only curiosity. What was there? What wag I going to see? > A little patting and stroking and the gool old horse turne'l and walked down into ;he road and then towards the dreaded corner. Footsteps could be heard- -surely a horse?— and then out of the ti-tree came a man on horse back wit'i a large white bag tied on to his saddle. I knew him quite well. I had been speaking to him a few weeks before in a dining-room in Cameron street. But the ghost was not seen that night, although Trenton brought mo back much later, which, I have always looked upon as a disappointment, and what is more has never been seen since. I wonder whether old Trenton is still alive. Hardly, though I know his owner is, for this was, as I i" the good days long before the war, when Britannia really ruled the waves and there was

peace at Christmas in all the world and Britannia kept it and the freedom of the seas, and when the poor housewife in Auckland-T-a busy place even then —always had coal enough to cook the dinner and gas cniugh to keep the lamp lighted; when the employer shook hands with his workmen, even the boss bushman, when his a:en came back quite happy and contented after a three weeks* bmst in town. There wag no six o'clock closing then and even raffles and sweeps were legal. Are wo any better now or kinder to one another?'