THE FOREST DEVIL

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21296, 24 September 1932, Page 18

THE FOREST DEVIL

-By ROBERT L. WILSON.

When Matthew Skelton, runholder, of 'he Derwent Valley,' and his shepherd, Tremain, came out of goal, after serving sentence of two years for the .theft of she Malvern sheep, the neighbouring .iheepfarmers acknowledged their perplexity to one another as to what was to i>e their future attitude to the delinquents.' The Sprott brothers. Jim and Dick, owners of Malvern, were for letting bygones be bygones. This was the feeling of the majority; but others, including John Fenton, the owner of Glen Tui, which bounded Skelton's run, were of the opinion that a certain . amount of reserve should be apparent in their dealings with Skelton, only to bo modified as due penitence for the past was evidenced in his future behaviour. " Look here," he said to Jim Sprott, " we all know what old Mick Skelton was—an old thief, but too smart to get caught. He'gave Mat a good education,, which put a polish on him; but I tell you he'll take,'some watching. Already he has sacked the manager whom his agents put on during his term in quod; and he is keeping Tremain on. I admit'that these facts are not in themselves significant of anything but that is quite natural, seeing Tremain was not more at fault than he himself; but I believe Tremain is bad right through, and, as I said before, they will want watching." " But we have to give them their chance, Fenton." Well, yours is the Christian attitude I admit, but I think I will retain just a necessary amount of original heathenism in my dealings with those two gentlemen," and there the discussion ended. When Sandy Muir became head shep- I herd at Glen Tui, following on his part in the detection of the theft of the Malveri sheep two years previously, he fourfd that he had attained a position which entailed more than the usual amount of responsibility attached to such positions. If John Fenton had inherited his run from a pioneer father, as most of his neighbours had theirs, he would have perhaps exhibited more • efficiency in the management thereof; but being of English parentage, and possessed of an English education, right up to the Oxford finish of it, « his interests and recreations were of a wider and more varied kind than his neighbours, and Glen Tui suffered thereby.

But the new head shepherd's efficiency apparent to-all backed up by the reputation which he had brought from"Malvern, soon established itself as Fenton's staff, upon which he leaned more and more, until at the time of our story, Sandy was entrusted with the full management of the stock, leaving his employer free to indulge those wider interests. It was due, therefore, to Sandy's management that the " Big Hummock " block, the latest cleared 'and sweetest block on the run, was crushed out with all available cattle, and shut up to rest aoon after Christmas, to receive, when the grass had freshened, a light stocking of the cull ewes, which Sandy planned to get away fat with their lambs early in the following year- It lay on the higher slopes, and was bounded at the back by one of Skelton's blocks.

During his two years of management. Sandy had improved ,the stock considerably, and had brought the fences and yards into a good state of repair, and Fenton's banking account was beginning to respond accordingly. Another year would see increased benefits from his intelligent culling, barring accidents. The months passed, with weather that made a sheepman's emerald paradise of the Derwent Valley. The winter drew'on. mild and exhilarating, with rough weather seldom in evidence. Glen Tui was a picture, with ample feed in every block for all ordinary contingencies, and in reserve, the Big Hummock block, lightly stocked with cull ewe 3.

July opened with signs of storm, and a foretaste of what the southerlies could do. Week succeeded week, each worse than its precursor. The snow fell on the range and stayed there. Everw few'days it' lay for hours on the foothills, even to the river flats. The wind cut like a knife, and in a short month the emerald became a drab yellow; with black hunger on the exposed faces. Verily the New Zealand climate was becoming demoralised. The higher lands felt the pinch first. Skelton's station, of which a largo portion was exposed to the southerlies, was already short of feed at the end of July. He had been beguiled by the splendid autumn weather into trying to winter more sheep than usual. Sandy watched his fences.

Then came the big flood of that winter. In two days; twelve inches of rain fell, and the shepherds could not get over the back creeks. The ewes were lambing, but those at the back had to take their chance.

On the morning of the fourth day Sandy got over to the back of the Big Hummock block. As he rode through the ewes his anger rose. Everywhere were strange earmarks, / Skelton's sheep. He estimated there must have been fifteen hundred of them.

At the boundary he found what ho was looking for. Where a tiny creek intersected it, the boundary wire fence hung high in the air. The banks of the depression were tramped black where the sheep from Skelton's bare block had bounded through underneath the fence. He dismounted and examined the ground and the fence minutely. The " footed " posts at either side of the creek had come bodily out of the ground, allowing the tightly strained fence to fly to a level four feet higher up. The cross pieces at the foot of the posts had not been sufficient to hold in position. ■Sandy stood long in thought, and then with a set look of steel in his eyes, made his way on his rounds. That night he reported the state of affairs to John Fenton. " The block' i' the middle o' lambin', ft'B a bad business. Mr. Fenton. We canna shift Skelton's sheep afore dockin', the last week in September. 'Tis lucky they're dry sheep, wi' no ewes among them. A' canna see how they footed posts could come up. The whole boundary's sound, an' no a slip on it. There's no a mark o' a tool on the posts, so they couldna' hae pu'd them up It's a meestery. But they pit the sheep in; they mobbed them no an* pit them in. A' ken that weel. All that mob wouldna' tramp the ground black by theirsels. They would hae just strung through." The old man was much more uppet than his employer, who took the matter philosophically. " Oh well Muir, we'll just have to run them till docking, and pray for a good season to make up for the set-back thoso cull ewes will get." Before Sandy left him he telephoned Skelton as a matter of form, but both knew that nothing could be done, and Skelton expressed the surprise which they knew he would express, and the matter was dropped. But the gloves were off, that was some satisfaction. Sandy and his employer were agreed oil that.fe

August passed, and docking time approached, and signs of activity became visible in the valley. Wethers and hoggets were mustered and cleaned up in preparation for shearing. Glen Tm started docking in the Rig Hummock block. They were eager to be rid of Skelton's sheep. The sheep were mustered and yarded by 8 o'clock in the docking yard by Skelton's boundary, and by 12 o'clock the last pen was being pot

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through. A boy was told off to boil the billy. Being a smart boy, he crossed the | fence into Skelton's, ns being a more likely place to find kindling wood. A huge black charred tree stump, a few yards over the boundary, had caught his attention, and he hacked at it with his axe, splitting off splinters of the dry wood. The workers in the yards heard a sudden shout from him. He waved ex citedly to them. Sandy looked intently up the hill. He was noted for his intuition. " A'll see what he wants," he said, and moved up quickly to join the boy. The latter's axe had broken through the outer crust of the stump and exposed its hollowness. and when Sandy joined him he was peering curiously into its dark interior. "What do you make of that? " he said! Sajidy took his place, then, suddenly straightening up, went round to the other side of the stump. A gldnce showed him what he wanted. He stooped down and dislodged a small log which fitted neatly ■into an opening in the stump, and the sunlight streaming in revealed a mass of piled gear, consisting of wire rope mostly, with a cogwheel or two and some grips. "A forest devil! " he ejaculated. "What's that,*a forest devil?" asked the boy. Sandy looked at him suspiciously. " Oh, a machine for pulling out stumps," ho said shortly. " You go and boil the billy, and ask Mr. Fenton will he come here." By the time Fenton arrived, Sandy had removed the " forest devil " from its hiding place, and was fitting it together. Fenton looked at him in perplexity. " That's one of those stump extractors, isn't it ? " "Ay," said Sandy, rather jerkily. He was very excited. "Do ye no' see? A'll show ye." He took a sling made of heavy inch-and-a-half rope from the heap and threw it round the stump. " That's so it wunna leave -ony mairk." He took another sling and ran down the bank and looped it round one of the footed posts that had been the cause of all their Big Hummock troubles. He connected the two slings with the wire rope, and started to work the lever. "So that's it!" exclaimed Fenton. "The i;opes were a brain wave; they leave no mark." "Ay," said Sandy, his eyes glistening. He worked away at the lever, and with a jerk the first footed post came up, and then the other, and the fence hung four feet in the air as it had done on that winter morning after the big flood. " We'll leave it like that for them to pit their sheep back through in their ain country," said Sandy, smiling grimly. The men, the docking finished, had gathered for lunch at the fence, and watched the proceedings with interest. The boy looked, and felt, important. As they finished their lunch, the dogs barked furiously, and van down the hill toward two riders, with following teams of dogs, who rode up through the Big Hummock toward the yards. They were Skelton and Tremain. They rode on to a little knoll overlooking the scene. Their scrutiny travelled over the big mob of their sheep in the yards, as Sandy estimated, about fifteen hundred; the lambs' tails neatly piled for counting; the resting men round the still smoking fire; and came to rest on the gap and the " forest devil." From where they sat the watchers saw the dull red rise on Skelton's neck to his temples. They saw Tremain's insolent smile. He had not blushed. He said something in an undertone to Skelton, who turned to him and laughed rather shrilly. Sandy said afterwards: " 'Twas a sair moment for him. He'd been to a guid schule, ye ken." In the silence that followed the laugh, came Fenton's polished English, clear as a bell. ' ' " I say, Skelton, there will be no need to take down the fence to put your "sheep through. Mr. Sherlock Holmes Muix has constructed, or, rather, reconstructed a means of egress with which, no doubt, your sheep will be familiar." Scamp as he was not a man there bnt admired Mat Skelton for his wonderful recovery. Quick as a rapier thrust came his return: / " But, my dear Watson, I cannot give Mr. Sherlock Holmes Muir the full amount of admiration which his perspicacity, although rather belated, deserves, for T am so full of appreciation of the bloom on the wool s"f my sheep and the freshened appearance of their paddock to which they are about to return." The pure effrontery of the reply made the men stare. Some'turned away to hide a smile, but Fenton was not finished. " There is an_pld saying about a pitcher going too often to a well." Skelton smiled maliciously. He mimicked Fenton's Oxford English. " My dear Watson, I seem to remember one about another pitcher, with water in it, and a thirsty crow dropped s'.ones in it. Stone number one is in ; a good big one, too," and breaking into an insolent laugh, in which Tremain joined, he rode toward his sheep. One of Fenton's men confided to his mate that- night: "The boss wasn't too lucky bringing in Sherlock Holmes. Watson was a bit of a dud, you know.