STUDIES IN KAURI.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18641, 23 February 1924, Page 2 (Supplement)

STUDIES IN KAURI.

————- AUCKLAND'S .EARLY ,DAYS. LIFE IN" THE r " SEVENTIES." HOW I "GOT A BILLET. ' . BY M. T. No 1. ' • The' Momns ' sketches are based „?£ lea vine 1 MgJ Unih only ccrtain reatricticns. As Mr trevwniou had personal experience : of scenes and types of people that have now either disappeared or compkiely changed, it occurred to in® £na» . n~a vAir , might he of som6 accord- I ; est Carts lias been taken, in acccra arice with Mr. Trevannion's ~ own .m- ] fitructionß that everything ■ which_ m' be conairfored personal _to others tnaa , himself should be eliminated. It was in the very late seventies that I saw Auckland for the first time. I arrived in good spirits, young, well dressed, well educated, provided with letters of introduction and with a bank credit of seven hundred and fifty pounds. My principal object in visiting the Southern Hemisphere was to make a_ fortune. I had several schemes for doing this—somewhat vague, perhaps, but all on a grand scale. ,Meanwhile, I presented one or two of my j letters and arranged matters with the ; bank.

On a glorious summer morning, about eight or nine months afterwards, I stood at the corner of Vulcan Lane, outwardly watching the modest traffic of old Queen Street, and inwardly reflecting on all that had happened to me since my arrival. When a man reflects in this way, it is usually because he has been doing something very clever, or something very foolish; that he has made a lot of money for example, or that he has lost it. > It was one of these alternatives that Had happened to me, Of that seven hundred and fifty pounds— such a promising sum of moneyl had now left considerably less than, seven hundred and fifty shillings,, , - > .. » ■ , ■ The details of my meteorio career daring those first few months are still fresh in my memory, but, for obvious reasons, I must pass them over. It is ■ enough' to say that, in getting rid ot my moaest hundreds, I was not entirely a loser. I -made the acquaintance of some verv delightful people.; I acquired a thorough knowledge of the game of whist, improved my play at billiards, and cultivated a love cf flowers among the beautiful gardens of Ellerslie racecourse. Also I had opportunities of realising, as I had never done' before, the astonishing capacity of the human race for putting alcohol. Strange to say, I felt little bitterness as I saw myself becoming less and less interesting in those circles where I had formerly been more than welcome. I withdrew in silence, hardly knowing what to think of myself, or of the world in general. So, while I stood looking up and down Queen Street, on that beautiful sunshiny morning, I was conscious of a sense of chilliness, in spite of the warmth. For the first time in my life the future began

to look gloomy. ; I must, do something to get a living, but apparently I had learned to do nothing that was of any use to anybody in New Zealand, An Unexpected Offer. At that moment—one of the loneliest in my life—assistance came, as it usually does, Iroih a quarter least expected. There were not many people in the | street at the time, and, glancing indolently at the few who were approaching where I stood, I recognised a .prim, middle-aged person whom I had met several times without knowing him very well. I. used to see him frequently, in fact, but that was all; for we had little in common. I was all the more surprised when he came up now and spoke to me. Good morning," he said, less drily than was usual with himthough that is not saying much. , i - 7 w . r . ; "Good morning," I ' replied, cheerfully, I was glad to be spoken to, even by him. He looked at me attentively for a moment or two and then came abruptly to the point. • - • • > /. ■; ; "Are you; looking for something so do?" _ .. : , • I replied, in the same blunt manner, "Yes, I am." I can put a billet sit your way if you care to take it," he went on. "I don't know if you will consider it good enough, but " 7- ' I interrupted him to sr,y. that I was willing to - take ; anything * that offered, by way of making a stat u After that we easily came to an agreement. : - Ho informed me that -"a client of his who 1 lived in -the country; had commissioned him to engage a clerk. f \ 4

•1 am afraid I bave had no tts^^mSsMg as a clerk," I began dcubtfull, "You can ride, I think, h« 'Wm&flHL rupted, with the shadow of a smile. -IW Certainly t could do that. ... I| ' H"I , think you will fir.d that your fa'W&K involve a good deal of riding," drily. "As for the strictly dericritt&AHHl of the work, don't- worry. .I s fancy frierd Thomson will bo only ; toofgKj ll§s?Jffla , get * young fellow of your * The remark seemed, in some. way, not' so much flattering to derogatory to Thomson./! could see ' 'cmSESSOt I that the position offered to mo 00t'.5 few, one to write home about, but I determined to take it, unless somei}.nijlgaSffi' bettetSroo«ld turn up. I asked Mr. Thomson lived. Merchant at Kauri Greek. $'• H| He lived, it seemed, at a place Kauri Creek, & good distance ; of £1| Auckland. He was a gum merchant, '111 Somehow it had a dreary ynnd. lifljfip remembered being taken, soon aic«r' tepM§ arrival in Auckland, to a store kauri gum was collected in large.' qnaiyPWEs tities, ready, for export to America. almost forgotten ft; but mv new fn<|p:w| revived the recollection and gave 'ißjfeSaMßfi full and complete explanation of origin of kauri gum, its value' andfti«®W® and the large sums thai might be/wSpIK: (or lost) by dealing in it. We had .life;® this time drifted into one of the hdteppl^E 1 to be precise, the Occidental—where «&?- H conversed at leisure. The sticrius of j lip couple of drinks took off some .- : of bleakness of the prospect before :me, and flj I accepted the position of "clerk to KfiigJSl Thomson then and there. My salary ..jqfiW- K to be two pounds ten shilling:! a wiseMff if and I was to leave Auckland r,s soon as |f| possible. I agreed to go in tw > : dayg. . if I pass over those two melan< holy diyjlf 11 and that still more melancholy journey, 11 It rained all day long* with a deadly® ip persistence that seemed _ almofi to m directed personally against myself, 11 had never seen so much nr.inhAiu4E.Bl country in my life; I had new? Ihooirbt J 11 that New Zealand could posses;;, ;.ma|iyi® hilis, or that they could all be 11 each other as they appeared to be tinderSlP that desolating rain. I arrived :at Kttirf'' S Creek after nightfall, escorted by a taH ' Maori, who carried my Gladstone bag on SI one of his powerful shoulders, jy y, e vJa time we reached the _ township ifc stopped raining, but it was still dark I|B and scarcely a dozen lights were, to b« affi seen. However I was thankful ; to'hive^ rived somewhere, no matter ■ wW«. ;:'fVB As we turned a corner into the twffifiß thoroughfare I was unexpectedly greeted £' by the lights of an hotel on .oWvl®p |§ which illuminated the puddles in the Wj!«| quite cheerfully. Eru, the tall Maori, f§ ' paused. '9^^: "You like a drink?" he P«-|pj suasively. •>;-vp§|Sl: First Visit to Hotel. ,|M|m In spite of my rawness I recognigej If that this was Eru's polite way of lav*.- H ing himself to have a drink . ailwW* expense. I had no? seen mucK ofpJ«|f§ native race hitherto, and Eru's soft injit insinuating voice, as he made the scg. ; B gestion, delighted me. I admitted tbifj§ I was thirsty, and we . advanced r tow«|S|| the hotel accordingly. As we approaches!}.-; we* passed an open door, through wMm? came the sound of laughter, shouting asfflp shuffling of feet, together with the dwell click of billiard balls. I looked in Vrilr| some curiosity, and beheld a festive obj»« , pany. ; Nearly all ;• were Maoris. Twl®|: them were playing a game of billiard,.; with much encouragement from the swpfe tabors, and were flourishing their caa|p and staggering about with a freedom «Bd§|' looseness of limb not to be approached If by any European. - - | "Not that place." said Eru. "Therßslt|i Maori fellowsdam loafers. You, aiiSBP . this way," - 1 We entered the next door, which, ' to the private bar, where we 'found 6ar||f? selves the only customers. I not/api all sorry to get some refreshment, mynejf . and, as for Eru. the long beer which immediately put away seamed only. B a preliminary taste. The barman : ijrapß him something in Maori, which, of coittiiy ; H I did not understand; but I conld'.'Wiffijfeß -see that it related to myself. " WJSjfr* B they were speaking, a young man, 'boo^;1, : and spurred, strode swiftly into the fi His appearance made a great' impresawa • on me He seemed' to be only » fovf years older than myself, ,weU-to'^'c/wn- : ix ; M . limbed, and decidedly haudwme in a dash- 9 ing, dare-devil' sort of way.was his vitality that it seemed ' . ally to emanate from him, and even ;.M| barman livened up at his appearance/ £.9.-, || greeted -us all with a kiiid ' 88 good": humour that was evidently not dar || : to our own ■■merits.''' ■ "$ 8 " Have a drink, Eru?" he asked, ing down, some silver on the counter. -#j| " A-v," said' Eru, with a ; flattering §§ laugh. "You bet." ; "What about you, mister he said, m turning to'me." ' igffi-jjß " Thank you," 'I answered " I have just had one." ; . * "That's no reason • for not havintf|»Sy. BB other," he retorted. Arid certaialy' $ - H was no reason at all in Kauri, as I found by experience. \ : ja Getting Acquainted. ;|pfl

The' drinks "were served, and I noticed B that the newcomer the fcwpß jp|pß addressed by the name of Ted —looked me with ill-concealed curiosity. f I \rishod R him " good luck.'" S . » ' " Same to you," he r returned, raisinippX his glass. "You're a stranger here, ■ suppose, mister?" ' B i , "Yes." I replied, submitting to tlwMB inevitable. "I haveneyor been hert: B before." -.'■•/ ': , .. *-*;*<B And what do. you think of it no*- B you are here?" asked Ted. - . ■'V^fi® All three of ; then •. awaited my rcply : |;» with their eyes earnestly fixed upon.ttftfglß I thought it as well to be diplomatic. I|| "You see," I replied, " I have oriy:« got as ' far as this at present;; so; ,«#4||jß[ quite impossible for m« to form. an 10 °* It's the last' place God made •£.«»■ " It's the last place God made S} ■ iff the barms*, chipping in unexpectedfrfc,| ER " It was fixed up after the rest ,of wa world was created." ; . § „ i.,::', SI " You lie," said Ted, coolly. . '.fff'-fefl going ahead* every day. Do you •|:|b what's made this place, mister Its gum. Wj Isn't - that ; so, Davy?" : . . The barman assented, not^withoiutj^^jß pletivos. i ; Eru, ; also, ,on being a pP B to for confirmation, answered; with B accustomed " A-y." For my p#» occurred to me that, if gum had ® , place, including the • Criterion, had not done much to ; boast <& " This gentleman," said Eru, the , subject; "he going to the offics-* Ik down ;to see the boss." • ■ B| "Is he, by God said Ted. 3M|feaß . we'll go together. - That is—" 1 J|| 1 Always on the Go. .'M He paused aggressively, but I K to reassure him. , ■ iU*'•.'•laaßKM. " I shall be only too pleased," I | " if you will help -Era' to show met#**;. Eg way.'*' , ~ _*irf M "Bight you are," he said, H| gratified. < " Just wait a moment tAj&vH j get. my. blasted saddle bags, and I'll ■*. K with you." wonderful chap." said the . ? ■ Iff " He's a wonderful chap." said the man, when Ted was out of hearing.;^^g;|K| : he was to save money.' instead of cnW|? B ing it about like water, he'd be ah'® " % retire' in- a few ■ years." P* "What is he?" I asked. Kg " A gum packer," was the a o ***®;,™ "He packs; for Thomson—if you who he is. There's no horses Sinclair's ", anywhere in the not a man like him.; either. ' : He off to the fields 'to-night,; and back with.; a ; team and a load of cum by ♦R.fiiK time v the office is open. He's on the go. No matter'when \oW'SMj3SgS|SE Thomson wants gum brought in, or i taken out', Ted's ready for him." I expressed my admiration for; TeaffiajpftMl) clair's go6d qualities. • ' if " But it won't last," said the bai>M% II gloomily. ' ...; "How is'that ?" I asked.• , : " Tco much the waiipiro," unexpectedly. ■; ' , ' Vff ] " What is waipiro?" I inquired. •pSjjaMMH ' ' Drink," answered; the rmjtp; ; ; The subject of our - conversation' reappeared with' at pair ;Of slung i over " his shoulder, and .»K>rgW , -ygg me that he was ready, j -■-. Eru, with thing like .groan, picked up ; manteau, and '.we-' Wore f soon, .&U upon the it>ad again." A dark, * and - dreary , road it seemed^*" that night, and I little thought what it would lead me in the