The Lost Children.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20740, 6 December 1930, Page 4 (Supplement)

The Lost Children.

CHAPTER V. By great good fortune it was indeed Ruaki and his family going up tho river to Aorangi Pa, where the ariki, or head chief, of his tribe lived. The two children, when -they appeared on tho riverbank and shouted to the passing Maoris, were hailed with affection and joy, and room was found for them and Blink in one of tho canoes.

Away they sped again, and as Frank looked back at the dark walls of bush, and the bright winding river between them, Ruaki said:

" Upon that eminence in the old days there lived a demon who .snatched people from their canoes. No one passes beneath it in the dark even to this day." Frank did not believe all the Maori legends he heard about the days of old, but he wondered for a moment about the pit. • Had he and Elizabeth taken refuge in the deserted a man-assail-ing demon ?

It was riot until they were a good way up the river that Elizabeth found with dismay that she had forgotten Rosalie. ' That evening, round a camp-fire many miles away, Frank and Elizabeith sat among their Maori friends and listened while their affairs were discussed, Uuaki was angry at what had happened to his white tamariki (children) since they left their island home, and made a speech about it. Hemi (Smith of the Kowhai) had said to him: "These pakeha children must go back to their father's tribe and learn the wisdom of the pakeha," and he, lluaki, though it grieved him to part with his white children, saw that it was right. And so they went, But did they reach their relations and live under the roof of a rangatira ? Not so; the low white man, Baker, took thegi, made them do mean tasks like slaves, and dared to beat theso children of rank. It was an insult that called for blood. The children, deserted and ill-used by their own people, had come to their Maori friends. Enough. No longer could Hemi complain. Henceforth Tamaiti (his pet name for Frank) and Eritipeta were his children, and no one should molest them.

4 He ceased walking up and down and took his seat by the fire again. Frank roso and tried to thank him. Ho could not help thinking that iliis was the first time he and Elizabeth had been warmly welcomed anywhere since their father's death. His heart was full, for they had needed kindness and help so badly. , "0 Ruaki! " ho said, and* the fine phrases of ceremonious Maori talk rushed to his lips. "We havo come among friends at last. We were hungry, we were beaten, our hearts were dark. *AU skies are cold to fatherless children, but wo have found shelter. No children are fatherless who sleep under Ruaki's roof, nnd have his arm between them and enemies."

He sat down again, covering his face with his arm to bide his tears, and Elizabeth, slipping back easily into Maori speech, said to him: " Kaua o <angi, Frank (Don't cry, Frank

At, Aorangi pa Ihcy wore made just as welcome, and in a few days the homeless white children were absorbed into the life of the village. They ceased to he objects of wonder and interest to the other children and became playmates instead. They talked Maori constantly, even to enrh other when they were alonp. Elizabeth learned to plait baskets, and

By ALICE A. KENNY.

played games with tho little girls, chanting meaningless jingles about the demon eating her nose, or Para going to spear pigeons, while Frank swam and threw raupo darts, and went eel-fishing with tho men and boys. They helped, too, in the cultivations, and as tho weeks went on they became so brown with sunburn and dirt, and so ragged that if any white people had seen they they would not have recognised them at once as pakeha children. But no white people saw them, for Aorangiiipa was a rather remote one, and Pamoana, the old, tattooed rangatira, who was the head chief, would not even allow a missionary to settle on his land. Tho white men of whom he had seen most were drunken traders, runaway sailors, and escaped convicts, and though much better white people were now settling in the country, ho would have nothing to do with them. He said truly that those bad men of his early years had ruined too many of his race with drink and greed for guns. But Jim Smith had not forgotten them, and one day he strode into Baker's store and asked about them. "Oh! them youngsters," said Baker, with a pretended heartiness, " they're playing about somewhere." Jim Smith looked keenly at him and noted an uneasiness in his shifty eyes.

" Are they ? " ho said. " Well, as soon as they como in I want to see them." " Very well," replied Baker, pretending) to bo busy. " I've got something else to do. I can't run about after youngsters like them. Most likely they • are up the creek after ferns. They often go up there." Smith smoked his pipe and strolled about, waiting for the children to appear. But there was no sign of them, and his suspicions grew. Ho wont down to speak to' the Maoris on the beach and then he returned to the store, where Baker was wiping down his dirty counter. " Have a drink, Jim ? " he suggested. " No, thank you." Smith leaned his elbow on tho counter and looked at the whaler. " Going out with to-night s tide, Jim : " To-night's or tomorrow morning's, or the next day," replied Smith coolly. "I'm not going out on any tide until I've secu those youngeslers." "The devil, you ain't!" broke out Baker furiously, and at once his wife, who was as uneasy as ho was, came into the room. . „ " What do you think of this ? said Baker. " Jim Smith here won't shift from here till lie sees tho youngsters, ho says." Mrs. Baker turned upon the cutter man. , , T * , "Well, of all tlm impudence! What are vou sniffing round and hinting at ? Just" because the lazy young brats choose to go off and play instead of helping nie y °" Hold hard, Mrs. Baker," said Smith. " I can toll you a few things perhaps—you and Baker." He suddenly dropped lus pretenco of calmness and spoke bitterly. _ t " Those children arc missing. You ye ill-used them. Oil! I know the truth and they ran away into tho bush, and Heaven knows where they are now. I came up to get for an aunt and uncle of tlmir's who have arrived in Auckland. Rich people, mind you, who would have given a big sum in gratitude to anyone who had treated tho childicn kindly. And if they can't be found, you mark" this, it will bo gaol for both of vou! " ... (To bo continued.)