A NORTHERN IDYLL

Northern Advocate, 5 November 1932, Page 3

A NORTHERN IDYLL

HOW 1 LABOURED ON LABOUR D-VV-(By Our Mania Correspondent.) , “I say,” said Oldham to me on i Labour Day, “have you any plans for . this morning.” “Well—or—nothing in particular,” i replied suspiciously. “I just had ' some idea of resting from my labi oars.” “How about running me out to i AAvnkino Point on the motor-cycle? I Avant to Had a nag out there.” “What’s she like ” “Oh, rather an attractiA-e little piebald. I got her from the pound a feAV days ago and she got out of the paddock. Well, are you Avith mo?” “I precede you, my dear chap,” I replied ceremoniously buttoning on my leggings. Alas, the rash Avoids of youth! In a few minutes, with the rain beating on my face and trickling down my neck, I was heartily regretting my magnanimous decision. About lavo miles out of Dargaville avc came upon a series of small lakes, and my low gear and clutch being, as it chanced, moie or less out of action, i leapt two, sidestepped one, brnadsided round another and got off. “Ask someone something,” I suggested. Oldham accosted a small Maori boy. “Nope,” said this latter, speaking United Btates, “I ain’t seen a norse, Veptin ’ one wot came out yesterday. ” “Piebald .” ’

“Red an’ white,” said the boy. “Thai’s her,” said Oldham colloquially. “There’s a Maori settlement a couple of miles further on,” he added, turning to me. “She might bo there. Shall Ave try?” “'Well,” said T, surveying the road, “not ou the bike. I’ll tramp it with you if yon iike.” Having sheltered for a few minutes from another shoAA-er, avc proceeded until avc met a team of bullocks trying in vain to cross a. sloping bridge. The driver had a foA\ r things to sea - . But he didn’t mention our horse. His A’ocabulary was limited to Avoids that begin with “b”—like “bullocks” and “bridges” and so on. Then avc passed what Oldham thought was a slaughterhouse. Next to it were tethered countless hordes of dogs, Avhich broke into unanimous greetings at our approach. Truly avc had disturbed Ccrebus.

After this our road climbed a hill, and finally dwindled to a (day track Avhich disappeared now and then under a deep pool of AA r ator. These we bridged or skirted as best we might, clambering up clay bank's or sinking ankle-deep in oozing mud. In clue course, wet, hot, disgusted, we hove in sight of a duster of buildings that held an oddly familiar appearance. . . “The Wharau Settlement,” said Oldham. “And to think,” ((noth I, “that avc could have got heie on a metal road in a feAv minutes.” “And no sign of Die horse. Hang' on, here’s a Maori; avc ’ll ask him.” “One horse in Die ran,” he said, “A very skinny t'elloAv. Maybe lie •/ours. ” “We may as well try,” said I. “It would lie a pity to go back uoav, if she. really is there.” We pushed through manuka and found ourselves in a bog.

“Step there,” said Oldham, point ng. 1 stepped there, and Avent knee deep in muddy Avatcr. “Thanks;” I said.

Then I fell over and cut my hand on a sharp manuka stump. To this 1 said nothing, but, like the sailor’s parrot, I thought a lot. In the distance avc sa.Av a red and Avhite horse, and in the foreground some cattle. 1 thought apprehensively of bulls. “That looks like her,” said Oldham. “You stay here, in rase she runs this Avay. ”

1 had visions of myself dashing to and fro across that heinous hog, and wished that I had the Avings of a dove; but presently Oldham returned with a glum face and reported that the horse was not liis “What next?” said I. ‘‘lt’s after one. ; ’

“Home,” said Oldham “Good,” said I.

At this juncture my friend dashed off in pursuit of a teal which avc startled from Die bog, and he pursued it till lie fell on his face—Avhich, I reflected, studying my own cut hand,, was A’erv satisfactory.

Alton! forty minutes later, having repassed Cerebus, we overtook a gentleman avlio liiioav all about our horse. It was somoAvliere a way at tin: back of Die Wharau and avc should need another horse to catch it. It Avar not piebald, bur skewbald.

Th is Avas nows. Oldham and I debated Die Avord later. He thought il must be a “steAv”-bald on an analogy Avith “pie’’-bald; taking Die negative I. pointed nut that as avc used a skeAver to “skew” meal, Dion* Avas air equal analogy in the Avord “skeAv"

bald. We suspended judgment pending information from higher authorities, for at this point avo arrived in sight of our motor-cycle. We relumed home horseless, (luckless and <1 iniiorloss, and as 1 Avashed the dried mud from my feet and Die dried blood from my hand, T expressed my opinion: “The next time you and I go out after horses,” I said, “I stay at home. ’ ’