"THE FOUR DAY STEW."

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19303, 16 April 1926, Page 20

"THE FOUR DAY STEW."

(A NEW ZEALAND STOEY.)

BY J. B. THOMSON.

Joe Healey, the elderly cook at Matatapu Station, had two greatly-prized possessions—the unwritten recipe for a stew, and a dog. There is no material connection between the stew and the dog. Still — Not since the year of the black snow had the shepherds- been introduced to such a, remarkable stew as that dished up to them by Joe Healey during the . shearing muster of 1925. Well fortified with good New Zealand mutton, rich in vegetables and emanating a delightful odour with its steam, it made its debut on the evening of the first day's muster., The hilarious welcome it received brought a smile of pride and satisfaction to the face of old Joe. " Ain't'she a dandv, boys?" he asked, as he commenced ladling it out of the camp oven with a liberal spoon. " I feel it's goin' to be the best I ever tasted," cried Bill Lowe, the head shepherd. That whisky you had > comin' up with the pack horses must have done you good after all, Joe." " It's a stunner," chortled young Jimmy Rundle, the cadet. " Joe, you're a hero." " As a matter ofact," returned Joe, lightly, " buildin' stoos is a pet hobby o' mine. / Did you ever hear o' the one I compiled down at the ' Three Rocks, the. fall muster before last ?" " No, give us the strength of it, Joe, ' demanded Ted O'Brien. " Well, I made her last five days. Just kep' on puttin' in fresh ingredyents, and never took her off the fire. W'e ate nothin' else all the time." " But didn't the coves get tired of it?" asked Bill Lowe. " Not so as you could notice it," answered Joe. " They reckoned she was the best? organised bit of a stew since Adam had to cook his own scran." " But, of course, it wasn't so hot in the fall as it is now," remarked Jimmy Bundle a trifle nervously. ■" Aw, it ain't so bad up here. I was thinkin' o' givin' it a go to beat ine own record this trip. If I was pushed 1 could make this beauty last eight days. Youse 'ud like it, and it 'ud save me a lot o'— —" " Nobody's goin' to push you, .Toe," put in Bill, hastily. " I can see the makin's of some pretty good roasts grazin' among these tussocks." Joe changed the conversation abruptly. "Although I'm too old fer high country musterin'," he said, " I still take an interest in dawgs. Every now and then I rear a pup, and I can tell you that when I'm done with him, he'll run rings round any dawg in the South Island. I've got a two-year-old on hand now. Anyone want to buy a good huntaway ?" , All eyes turned to Jimmy Bundle. This was only natural, because, during a cadet's first year of mustering, everybody wants to sell him a dog, and unless the neophyte has learned to deliver a powerful negative, he will soon find himself surrounded by a team out-numbering the largest wolf pack between Archangel and Alaska. " I reckon Jimmy's the only one that'll he needin' another dog this season," said Ted O'Brien. t "Well, I don't know," Jimmy faltered. "The boss told me that two dogs 1 would do me for a start. I brought one up with me, and he lent mo another —" "Them's not dawgs, them's apologies," interrupted Joe, "Now, this here Tyke' o' mine, although a huntavvay most o' the time, can do a little headin' if required, a bit o' leadin' if necessary, and a trifle holdin' if need be. What more could a young feller want? Why, his bark alone's worth five quid." "If his bark's worth a fiver, look out for his bite," laughed Bill, " Take him on a week's trial, Jimmy, and see what he's made of. You can't believe all a cook says, anyhow." " I'm on if Joe is," answered Jimmy afte* some hesitation. " Right-oil, me lad," said Joe, "but you might as well close on him right away, 'cos he'll learn you more about shepherdin' than any two o' these coves put together. Now, clear out from this table unless any of yuh would care to wash the dishes." " I'll /wash the camp oven for you, Joe," said Bill Lowe, slyly. " Never in ver natural. That receptacle contains to-morrer's stoo and then some." Being too tired to worry about the morrow's menu, the boys rolled cigarettes and stretched themselves out on their bunks. • # • » 9 Early the following' morning the shepherds set off on another long day's muster with their bodies strengthened by more of Joe's stew. Lunches were cut from a cold leg of mutton which was being kept solely for that purpose. In order to make sure that his new dog followed him, Jimmy Rundle decided to 1 lead him on a chain. His task was a difficult one, Tyke, bearing the most " hang-dog " expression that • ever occurred on the face of anything canine, seemed bent on tripping his boss up at every dangerous part of the beat. Only ,the dog's bark was worth anything as a mustering factor, and even that echoed feebly among the hills, compared to the vocabularfy unconsciously released by young Rundle. Accordingly, after such a trying day,Jimmy's temper was by no means improved bv the sight of the same stew being dished, up for the evening meal. " We're always glad to meet old friends, Joe," he snapped, " but making new ones is sometimes a pleasant change." " Meanin' ?" queried Joe, ominously. " The stew, of course." For a few moments Joe stared contemptuously at the cadet. Then he blazed forth. " Youse kindlegarden kids has a lot to learn yet. 0' course if you're scared o' spillin' it on yer clothes, I'll pack serviettes out With me next time." " Time there was a change," ventured Ted O'Brien. "Eh V snapped Joe switching a withering look on to the new speaker. " In the weather," Ted added hastily., pointing to a tiny speck of cloud which could be seen through the hut door. " Huh!". grunted Joe. "Now, look here, young Rundle, yuh never hear a dinkum man squealin' about his tucker. All these jokers is hardened shepherds—men every inch o' them." Bill Lowe, who appeared about to say something, restrained himself, arid the meal was consumed in gloomy silence. And ahother clay dawned : with it came niore trouble for Jimmy Rundle, and stew for everybody. This time Jimmy tried to get Tvke to follow him without the chain, and, for about a mile, the dog kept well in at !' s , rnaste r s heel. Unfortunately, RuntL°ok into « ullics thlckl . v populated by rabbits, and it was not very: long before Tyke camo to the conclusion that mustering was a greatly overrated pastime, and that rabbit'ine as a means of working off high spirits was much more satisfactory. He was last seen .making over a far away spur in pursuit of a particularly active member of the furry species, Jimmy finished the day without him. * firt the Oil coming in after the lone day's muster the boy found Joe playing wUh Tyke on the step of the hut. The sight was too much for him. The odour of resurrected stew was all that was re. quired to bring on an outburst. "To 'blazes with you, y QU r dog, and your /ttew ' cried Jimmy. "I wouldn't take that dog in a gift, and I'd like to neck" St ° W n th ° outsi(,e of your Sissy boy," roared Joe. "You're iggorant as a p,g about the big things o hfe. Yuh dunno how to handle » good 'dawg; and nor d'you know how

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to pay doo homage to the queen o' stoos. How are you goin' to Jive in the backblocks, hey?" Then it was that Bill Lowe took a hand in the game. " Look here, Joe," he said. " Let this be the third and last day of the stew. It's a record as far as this station is concerned, and you can skite about it all you want. In fact, if you like we'll tell everybody you made it last a week. They won't know the difference. " Bill Lowe," replied Joe, scathingly, " I won't be tempted out- o' the paths o' rightness by the devil or any other white man. I never manufacture theatrical stoos. If I'make a stoo, I make it in the physical form. Get that." " Well, we'll be neetlin' the physic pretty soon," said Bill. "If I wasn't short of men, I'd send you down to the big house now, and get someone else to take on the cookin'." " Are you the cove as signs the cheques?" asked Joe, sharply. "The bosr sent me to feed you, an' I'm doin' it, ain't I ?" " Poisonin* us," said Bill. " All right. You'll see your cheque very soon unless there's a change." But the boys were hungry, and so once more the stew got a hearing. Undoubtedly, the fourth day of the Matatapu muster was the most eventful of all—especially for Jimmy Bundle. Tyke was in a most stand-offish mood, his master finding it quite impossible to get him under control. Finally, after the cadet had given up trying to manage him, the dog suddenly came frisking around his heels with an unusual display of affection. He even began to lick Jimmy's hands and to paw him all over. Having recovered from his initial surprise, Jimmy became aware that the clean mountain ajr had lost its purity, because an odour, intolerably nauseating, was being wafted into his nostrils every time Tyke leaped towards him. Realising that the dog had been rolling on a dead sheep, the boy emitted a series of denunciating yells, and tried to drive him away. It was a hopeless task. By this time Tyke thought it was just a big game, and ho romped around his boss more enthusiastically than ever. Jimmy hastily rolled a cigarette and forged ahead, with Tyke in close pursuit. At length lie came upon a rushing torrent of a creek, and, just at a suitable crossing, he noticed that a waterfall 20 feet high fell straight down into a deep pool. Acting on sudden inspiration, he whirled round, and, grasping the dog by the collar, lowered him over the fall with the intention of giving him a thorough cleansing. For a few moments all went well. Then Tyke's collar came undone, and the dog dropped straight down into the pool. Scrambling out to the accompaniment of frightened howlsj he fled at breakneck speed in the direction of the Roaring Billy hut. About two hours later, all the shepherds, with the exception of Bill Lowe, trooped in toward the hut. As the day had been a long one, they were both tired and hungry. Even the stew was being looked forward to with relish. Joe Healey* smoking his blackened briar, was leaning in the doorway. His eyes, as he gazed at nothing in particular, had a far away look; his expression Was worried. "Got that stew renovated again, Joe ?" called Jimmy, when they were about 20 yards away. Joe shook his head sorrowfully. " A roast, perhaps," said Ted O'Brien, hopefully. " Got nothin'," muttered Joe. Youse boys'll have to go to bed hungry to-night except for a few cold meat bones and a bit o' damper which is in the ashes now." "Cripes!" cried Ted. "Is it a cyclone that visited ye and swept the stew away ?" Joe now began to speak with feeling. " If you call a yelpin', scattered-brained bit of a pup a cyclone, then cyclone's right." " Good-oh !" cried Jimmy. "Do you mean to say that Tyke did the stew in. It's the best day's work ever he did. He must have got a taste for it from the dead sheep he rolled in out on the hills. I'll give you a fiver for him now, Joe." Joe switched his withering look at the cadet, and, ignoring the offer, continued, " I'll just recite the actool facts o' the case. Here was me reclinin' on me bunk havin' me afternoon siesty. Suddenly. I feels an odour noverin' around me, and I stirs meself. Then I hears an enormous rumpus among the pots and pans, and the sizzlin' o' semi-liquid refreshment which has become projected into the fire I sits up pretty brisk just in time to see that cow of a dawg rushin' headlong out the door. Spilt all the stoo, he did, and spoiled me chance o' breakin' a record. Accordin' I'm done with him. He's anybody's dawg for nix." " Shame to at the price. Two quid, Joe," offered Jimmy, with a chuckle. " Nothin'," said Joe firmly. "I reckon the dawg as puts his nose into a pot o' boilin' stoo, ain't got no brains. Spoiled me record an'—" Just then Bill Lowe appeared on the scene. , With quick strides, full of purpose, he had ascended thfe slope from the holding paddock. His mouth had a grim set, which boded ill for somebody. " The stew's dead," said Jimmy, cheerfully. " Pity about the stew," snapped Bill, " Joe," he went on, "your reign of terror is comin' to a quick stop. I caught that dog of yours bavin' a good time vvorrin' a mob of ewes down in Rose Gully. Two dead, one dying. You'll bo in a bad way with the boss now for sure, but if you'll agree to give us decent, fresh meat from now on, I'll guarantee none of us will split on you. What do you say?" " All right, all right," murmured Joe, humbly. "What you say goes, Bill." "How about Tyke?" queried Jimmy. " Jake. There was a big stick handy, and death was instantaneous." " Dunno what youse gentlemen is goin' to eat," mumbled Joe. "Only a few.hones an' a bit o' damper." " This'll do for a sighter," said Bill Lowe, pulling a half empty bottle of whisky from under Joe's bed. "My shout, boys.-Joe'll attend to the damper."