THE WHISTLER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20481, 5 February 1930, Page 5

THE WHISTLER.

A NEW ZEALAND STORY.

By GERALD HARRISON.

The Waitemata lay undor the spell of approaching eventide, and, seated on the waterfront, Katie McCoylo sped her thoughts over tho seven days since the Aorangi had slowly carried her up this beautiful strotcb of water. A week of long, backward glances. And already she was sure she would never liko New Zealand 1 A ra.cliant sunset caught the tall masts of tho shipping, and dipped their fairy reflections into Waitemata's mirror. No use. A ferry boat, taking its peace-fully-picturesque way across harbour, left its %vake of molten gold. Not a bit of use. All those people aboard were going home. Horn 3! Old Rangitoto seemed arising to frown down this obdui'ate heart, and close the glorious harbour against a soul flighting away and away, .over leagues of restless, whispering waters. In silence tho girl rose. Tho beauty of it hurt. wquld she face that boy with his terrible mouth-organ where she was lodging. Later, alone in her bedroom, Katie pulled out a photograph, to again walk in thought the pensivo Surrey Hills. Then she took her vow—to save up every penny of her wages and go back. To-morrow she was to start work in this new land. What a blessed relief! After that she felt better, went to bed thoughtfully, and arose to catch an early train, speeding her through a bright-pic-tured suburbia to the far outskirts of Auckland. By evening Miss Starling, Katie's new employer, to whom the girl was to act as companion-help, had come to tho same conclusion as Katie herself—she was homesick.' When sho was a young girl, meditated the elderly spinster . . . .and found the young emigrant's blue eyes fixed on lier plaintively. " There's nothing more to do now, thanks, Katie," said Miss Starling. " Then, I think I'll go to bed, if you don't mind." "I should.". " Good-night,"- said Katie, taking up her candle. " Good-night dear." Slowly the girl went to her room. There was no one to kiss now, and no one to kiss her. The Surrey Hills dimmed to misty eyes, that night—and one day s wages had been earned. Came morn, and the whistling of a light heart. Then " Milko!" in a rampageous voice. " Two pints, Katie," said Miss Starling, and the girl took her jug to the door. There he stood, a bronzed statue of young independence, with bared chest and muscular arms. He looked up at her over his can with an eagle-swift glance, straightened up, and' held the jug out to her, which she took with & murmured " Thank you." Then he had departed, whistling, leaving her looking up to see the early sunshine catching the Waita'keres with an appeal to human heart. And, as she gazed, across the pearly sky came flighting seagulls, catching, too, the enm-

son reflex of that perfect morn on their white wings. Now, rosy shafts of young day began picking out bits of bushland and white-walled homesteads; and there came the answering flash of windows of gold to morning's call. But to the girl s heart came only the call of a thrush, dreamily, and into the blue eyes crept that faraway look anew. , " Let's have that milk, called Miss Starling, and, with a start, the jug bearer turned from the lisping thrush. _ Taking the jug, Miss Starling regarded it meui* tatively. Fullish measure, she commented to herself. • After a while Katie found herself responding to Jack Hillary s blunt conversation over the milk can more easily. His own grey-blue eyes, whimsical at times, admired fearlessly, and she began to look for his whistling—for it was lonely enough in this small settlement at the foothills, after London's environments. By the end of a month she had learnt to laugh amusedly at her light-hearted milkman. Then, one morning, in the next-door garden, sat Harry Whittle, writing. _He was always writing, it seemed to Katie—this young city man, spending a holiday with his mother. " Writing, eh ?" commented Jack, coming on the scsno with his can. Ho took up a sheet. , " Get out of my way!" protested Harry, "or I'll put you into my story." "Love letters!" quoth Jack, pretending to read. " Red hot! ' he exclaimed, holding the sheet aloft from the " It's a story, man!" replied Harry inIdignantly. " What, you're telling her?"

"Scoot!" .. Her milkman was still smiling as his eyes lifted from his can to regard Katie's, a mischievous twinkle in _ them which evoked in'her, she felt, a silly desire to blush. "Beautiful morning,!' ho remarked, straightening up to gaze at her. Then she knew she was flushing. "'The hills were very beautiful this morning," replied she, quickly. " You're beginning to like them, arc you?" His tone was bantering. "No!" she replied. I mean—l like ours better." " Sure thing!" and off he went, whistling. Derisively, she felt. But sho had two months wages saved up. By the end of tho third month of exile Katie began to feci somehow blighter, and tho post office book seemed a silent friend, whispering " Home" asstiringly. Then came Jack Hillary with a black ]<~ok to his honest face. Coal dust it was, and little trickles of perspiration. He had been carting black diamonds, instead of white milk, from the station three miles away—a truck load of it, shared by neighbours in the village. On his broad back came Miss Starling s quota, and was shot cheerily into her shod. "Is that all ?" asked she. " Except what's in my_ eye." Ho stood eyeing her with one comical eye, and rubbing tho other with a grimy finger. . Said Katie: " You'll mako it worse like that,", and out camo a dainty little handkerchief to render first-aid. " Ah! Thanks!" Jack gazed at the black speck, tenderly extracted. " There you are, mother. That's the lot," said he to Miss Starling, with a uvink at the girl. "Go 011 with you!" retorted the lady, retiring to her cottngo to smile at youth. For a moment the young man stood, regarding Katie fixedly. " You'd mako a good nurso to a chap like mo 0110 of these days'." ho said boldly. Sho started. " I liko your check!" she exclaimed, taken aback. 1 like yours better." Red-eyed, and with a perspiring smile, he stood before her, unabashed. Tho girl's colour came and went on soft, plump•, cheeks, and her lips parted to reply indignantly.. Then something on his face softened lior into silence. An earnestly-gazing face. A manly face. lie stooped easily, picked up his empty bags, and went off, whistling as usual. For several mornirgs Katie's conversation with Tier milkman was curtailed, but ho was as cheerful as over, '.lhen came a day when tho ranges called. It was so terribly dull in tho cottage, and sho felt a desire to explore them closer. It was a Sunday and aftornoon. " I think I'll take a walk to the lulls, . said Ratio to Miss Starling. J

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" I should." ' _ Miss Starling's eyes followed the lithestepping form to the gate as Katie set out for her stroll. Then she called: " Dou't go and lose your way. Keep to the track, dear." The girl turned, smiling, and waved. "All right!" came her soft voice. Then she went on quickly, and with admiration in her old eyes Miss Starling turned and entered her cottage for her forty / winks on that piping hot afternoon. At last, the bash she had heard so much about! Katie left the track and entered a little way, just to peep into the wooded fairyland; only to find her feet drawn irresistibly further. Then a tui called deep in the heart of it, and, with a backward glance to memorise the way back, tho girl walked on and on, feeling herself worshipping iri a hushed temple; and woke with a heart-ache to find herself gazing down at the flashing fall of a cascade. Under the spreading tree ferns it leapt entrancingly toward her feet; and it called with the age-old voice of Nature: "This is God's earth!" Yes, it was all very beautiful! And with emotion she turned to retrace her way, for already the sun was declining warningly. Again and again slio paused to glance upward at the lofty green domo of her temple of thought; wheiQ rimu and giant kauri held their branches over her. Then, realising the sun's warning, Katio walked on and on, and at last camo the first faint breath of anxiety. Surely she was going in the right direction ? Alas, after half an hour's hasty pushing forward, she again halted fearingly. • Absolutely she was lost, and with the sun setting remorselessly lower. Again she hurried on, and presently a clearing rejoiced her sight—a rugged little valley with rough scrub and a few grazing cattle. Then a white dwelling caughb her eye. Perhaps they could tell her the way there fDown tho hillside scrambled Kate, only to find herself facing a racing stream — its only bridge a fallen monarch where bushland had once been. Dare she cross over that rush of water ? She must! And one small foot was placed on the rounded trunk a little timidly. _ At that moment there came a sound which caused the girl- to pause, wondering. A whistling. Blithe and unconcerned as ever. Her milkman! In a moment he stood at the other end of this rustic bridge, staring. The whistling ceased. She hardly knew him—dressed like that. Off came the'young man's hat. " Ladies first," said Jack, gallantly, as she stood dumbly there. She a step forward, and the toAjnt shouted its laughter at her timidity. She got halfway, and there she faltered, swayed an instant, and found herself in strong arms. I "It was the water," smiled Katie, as they reached tho other side quite safely. "Fascinating!" he agreed. "Having a bit of a walk?" asked Jack. " I lost my way. I was* coming to—" " Tea ?" he suggested. " After tea I will show vou a shorter way back." " Oh, no"! Oh, but I was only coming to. ask the way," she protested faintly. " Mind your feet, it's clayey here," he said calmly. It was. " Oh!" smiled Katie, as the ooze sucked at her shoes. " It is worse over there," said Jack, soberly. " Maybe I'll have to carry.

you. "Mr. Hillary!" " Fact!" he replied, walking on by her side. Then, before she realised it, he

had lifted her lightly over the last few yards of cattle-puddled paddock, aijd set her gently down at the garden gate of what seemed a paradise of flowers. " Mother's garden!" remarked Jack, with depth in his voice. The young man's kindly words of welcome as he ushered her into thq cosy dwelling room of the old farmhouse, touched her. Then a sweet-faced woman had come forward with an enquiring smile. - , " Young lady," said Jack, " come to see you, mother." Mrs. Hillary looked from one to the other; from her sturdy son to this pret-tily-flushing girl with her deep eyes. " Lost her way v in the hush, mother. I'll be setting Miss McCoyle back to Miss Starling's after tea.'' .'■■■» "So you are Miss Starling's companion ? You certainly must have some tea, first, before we let you back," smiled Mrs. Hiilary; and in five minutes had her visitor chatting to her gratefully for the homely hospitality of it all. " And how do you like New Zealand?** asked Mrs. Hillary, presently. Katie caught her milkman's eye upon her, over a tea cup, wickedly. - ■ "I think I shall like it very much!" she replied, smiling a little confusedly. Sure!" said he. '

The happy hour passed. " You'll be sure to come and see us again, soon?" pleaded Jacks mother, releasing the girl's arm at the gate. " Won't you, dear!" With grateful assurance Katie found herself being handed into a little two-seater and to a last kindly wave from Mrs. Hillary, the tiny car sped forth. " Will she not!" said Jack to himself, letting in the clutch, firmly. Presently Jack made sure of his silent sentiment, as, in the quiet of that Sunday evening, the little car glided to a standstill in the hillside laiie. " Are we home ?" asked Katie. " Home," said Jack, pointing with an arm backwards, " is away there for you and me, girlie. It's not safe for you, getting lost by yourself." Quite naturally his arm came protectively round her in its descent. " You'll come, won't you?" he asked in a low voice, earnest in its love. " Katie " Yes, Jack," she whispered. To the call of the thrush, Kate awoke on the morrow, and through her window saw the first flush of dawn light on the ranges, all the mystery of lovs in the sun's coming to the hills. And now it was gilding the white walls of a farmhouse. " Home!" it breathed softly. Then, very gently, tho far Surrey hills seemed fading into a fragrant memoryj, into tho dear mists of yesterday. Now it was to-day that held'her; and even as she gazed the ranges called with a lover s voice. Sho turned happily, and on the dressing table, a little post office book! It, too, seemed speaking. How lucky I did save the money, thought Katie; It will be so useful now! Camo a whistling such as no thrush had ever thrilled her heart with, and she hastened to greet hehoy. Ah, sho had someone to kiss, and to kiss hc;r, now, in this glorious sunshine ! So New Zealand smiled on a little emigrant, and Katie returned lier own warm smile to the lromely faeo of one of her sons. As sho stooped to receive back her jug there came the sound of a kiss; and in the kitchen Miss • Starling smiled, too. " God bless youth," said the aged spinster's kindly glance through the sunlit window.