THE QUEER STRANGER

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21319, 21 October 1932, Page 17

THE QUEER STRANGER

! B? FRANK H. BODLE.

• Jimmy Deans glowered as ho finished reading the letter that, had come in by a man from the camp below. His left hand brushed impatiently at his mop of hair as he stood to consider all that the letter implied. " Mv girl's lost her job," lie announced briefly. " She's up against, it iri the city." He thrust the letter into his breast pocket and paced to and fro before tho camp-fire that «as cooking tho evening meal. " And so are we, Larry, out hero in tho bush. Thev got gold in this valley in tho old jays—but if you ask mo they got it all." Larrv Creagh, thick-set, with a violent squint that, did his natural optimism and innate good temper gravo injustice, shook ' his head sorfowfully. •' Bad luck, Jimmy boy," ho said, soberly. 'Tis'real bad luck. But don't vo give up hope. There's gold in these hills still. And aren't the boys in tho three camps down the valley making wages at last? Don't ye believo all tho gold's gone. We'll strike it yet." ' And while we're finding it, what's Jess going to do?" Jimmy demanded, savagely. " I tell you I'm fed up with tho whole place." ' Ye'll not bo so fed up to-morrow." Larry spoke briskly. " Stores are just about dono. There'll ho little enough left after to-night's dinner o n e of us must, go out and lump some kai-kai in." He shaded his eyes and glanced down the valley into the westering sun. "There's an old boy, a stranger, going into Frenkley's camp. No, he's not, b'gum. They're hunting him away. He's coming 'along up here." Jimmy looked down-valley without much interest, though strangers were a rarity. H'S thoughts were in tho city and the gfght of the newcomer in no wise abated his gloom. " Frenkley's crowd are pretty close," ha observed dully. " They don t want anj stranger to shaTe either their luck or their tucker. Well, anyone who feels that way can share our luck and if he's half-way decent, our tucker, too." Larry dropped tho last of their potatoes into the pot and grinned appreciation of the hospitable sentiments. He had no girl in the city, nor anywhere else, so thoughts of a bare to-morrow did not cloud his equable horizon. " There'll be enough stew for three and a bite over for breakfast," he stated cheerfully. " An' we'll just leavo the luck o' tho Irish to take care of to-morrow." Ten minutes later a frail old man stood ' by their camp-fire. He walked with difficulty as one worn out and obviously was near the end of his slender resources. He was dark, almost brown in colour and his eyes were sunken, yet amazingly brilliant. It did not need the wonderful network of wrinkles that creased his face to proclaim his great age; that fact was apparent in a score of ways. He might have been a Maori or. indeed of almost any nationality after a long Hfe in sun and wind, but when he spoke it was in excellent English. " Can vou spare a little food and a night's shelter?" ho asked very gently. " Down the valley they have, none fq£. an old njan. And I am very tired and hungry." " Why, yes, of course." Jimmy pushed an empty candle-box forward, as a s"eat for the stranger. " We'll soon have dinner ready and there's enough for all of us. " You bet there is," Larry endorsed. " An' if I do say it as shouldn't, 'tis meself that can make an Irish stew, even out o' three parts o' nothing an' the rest • pare imagination. I had the trick from me dad who learned it from Terence Rafferty "whose family was cooks to Brian Boru in the way back an' long ago days in tho Quid Sod." v ,„ mi u " You, too, search for gold ? The old roan s' shrewd eyes took in the details of the scrub whare with tho pans and picks and" shovels just outside the sack door. " You have been fortunate ? You are more cheerful than the men in the. other camps hep. They had no'welcome for a strauger and no food to spare." ."More fortunate!" Jimmy laughed, bitterly. "More fortunate! We're just wallowing in luck all right, mate, only o-Jt- happens to be the wrong sort—bad luck. Why, we haven't seen enough yellow stuff to buy grpase to fry with." Larry tasted his famous stew critically, then dropped a little more salt into the pot. " He's "a gloomy diwle is Jimmy this night," he observed, cheerfully, "but he's not always like that. 'Tis because he's worrying about his girrl in the city. Though jist between you an' me an' the stewpot an' without a. worrd of a lie, Ave could do with jist the south edge of tho faintest smile o' Fortune." ? ' But you have food—abundant food r The old man leaned forward, peering keenly at Larry as if to read his inmost thoughts. ~ 'We've enough for to-night, anyway, Larry declared, briskly. "-An* to-morrow -*-to-morrow's another day an' can take care of itself when it comes along. " 1 see *' The old man sat his eyes seemed to glow liko live coals. You are—what is your word ?—up against it, but yet you nvill share with a stranger, even a feeble old man who is no use to you at all' and knows nothing about this queer yellow stuff all the world is seeking. I cannot understand your hunger for it. When I was—but never mind that. What does gold mean for you, friend ? Ho pointed a shaking finger at Jim, seated beside him on the ground. " Well " —Jimmy cleared his throat—- " it means a thundering lot to mo just now." There was something in the old Man's eyes that compelled confidence. " There's a girl I know with no work and no home, ana mighty littlo hopo left, who could be made nappy if we saw even a amall amount of gold." The old man rubbed his wrinkled chin thoughtfully. " That would indeed be good." lie "turned again to Larry. " And you, who learned tno magic of cookery from an ancient people, tell me, what does gold mean to you ? " Lots o' things, an' thin some more. Larry scratched his head in puzzlement. " But, faith, I've liever thought much what I'd do with it if I had it. Still there's a -sister whoso man is sick an three small kiddies who maybe could find a use for some of it." Ho poured stew in eoua] portions on to three tin plates. " But What's tho use o' talking S'posing is hungry worrk in a. harra worrld. The stew's all ready. Lei's ate." In spite of his hunger, the old man ate sparingly., He was the first to finish, and when he had done he sat back with a sigh of satisfaction. His keen old eyes sought bevond the camp, questing the broken hillside. The whare stood at tho mouth of a narrow gullv, whose depths were already filled with the gloom of night. Tho hill slopes beside 'he hut were covered with a rank growth of scrub. To the left was a mass of torn earth whero the winter rains had brought down a considerable Blip. "It lias changed beyond dreaming, the old man whispered, as if talking to him?elf. " The beauty has vanished. people I loved are dust in (lie breeze." Ho pointed an accusing finger at the two prospectors. "And you who came after, have slashed the face of ancient loveliness, rooting up the ground, tearing (ho very hearts out, of the hills I loved. You and the others before you." " I. thought you didn't know anything about prospecting." Jimmy was asf.on- j ished. " D'you mean to say you knew >his valley in the bonanza days ? "

A NEW ZEALAND STORY

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" I knew this valley so long ago, you—but that is. too far a cry." The old man rocked slowly backwards and 'forwards. " I say let the forgotten past lie in peace. I knew it again in its days of fever. And as 1 recall, thero were, without doubt, lonely women and women with little children in the times I loved best, and in tho days of first destruction here. Men came, even as you, because of the sadness in a woman's eyes and because of that were ruthless in their quest." Larry looked across at his mate, tapping the. side of his head significantly. Jim nodded. He, too, doubted the stranger's sanity. There was an utter strangeness in the old man's eyes as he looked unseeingly past them into far dim vistas beyond thoir imagining. " Where do you seek'! " Tho old man stood tip suddenly. His eyes snapped back from the past. Maybo I can remember something out of the old days—and I would pay for tho food you spared." ( "That's all right," Jim said,awkwardly. " "You're a decent old sport, but we're not taking monev for it." "Tell me!" The stranger's tone held a note of command. " If I know where you seek I may remember whero they found the gold—perhaps where some was not, found." "Wo been fossicking round up this gully." Larry spoke for the pair. " But, faith, we're fifty years too late. They've taken the everlasting insides out o' these hills. If ye'ro asking me, I'll say the old boys didn't leave enough real stuff behind to fill me hollow wisdom tooth." " They did not lake all." The stranger spoke with certainty. " But.it is lost time to seek where you have sought. Let me think. Yesterday—or was it half a hundred years ago, or more?—there was a place 1 knew, not far away ! " He walked toward the wreckage of loose earth and uprooted scrub of the. landslide. Almost against their will the two prospectors followed, wondering if, in reality, he might know of any hidden leader. " Not very far away." tho old man muttered sombrely, as one talking out of tho depths of sleep. " But it is hard to recall. The place has changed—so many hard things nave been done to it." Twilight was upon them when the trio reached the foot of the slide . "It was different when tho people I knew held this valley." Tho old man halted testing the loose earth with his hands. There was an edge of weariness in his voice. " They have gone. They did not understand your gold. They did not know that it was power—and the means to drive the sadness from a woman's eyes, and so, walking on it, they went into the night." He straightened tip, turning swiftly on the others. "It comes back. It comes back to rne. Bring shovels at once! " They did not argue with him. The old man was clearly mad and probably all he said was mere craziness—yet on the gold trail the craziest hint may bring success. Their own efforts had been entirely fruitless —and, besides, there was something above and beyond madness in the commanding ring of" that thin voice. He seemed so certain. "Here,!' the stranger ordered sharply. " Throw this away. There is something that you. seek below. It all cotnes back to me." He stood at the apex of the slide, and with thin fingers clawed at the loose clay. Jim, shove] in hand, stood irresolute. Above all things he hated to make a fool of himself. He hesitated, but Larry suddenly with a belief in the luck of the Irish, drove his shovel in and swung the soil away from the face of the slope. " Como on, Jimmv avic," he called, excitedly. " I've a feeling in me bones there's something to this. An' anyway, 'tis too dark for the others to see if we do make goats of ourselves." " All right." Jim decided that any chance was worth trying and swung his shovel busily. " We've made fools of ourselves this last three months, so one more night of it won't make much difference." " I remember now," the old man chanted, standing well clear of the shovellers. " It conies back. It all comes back. They were all too buoy to notice when I passed this way before. But I saw that in their haste they had missed more than they found. They walked past it day by day and I laughed at them. Ha! I remember it all. They said I was—what was their queer word —looney. But I knew all the time—what they missed, I, who had seen the seedlings of this valley grow to strong trees." His voice grew low and tragic. " Aie, and seen the trees fall, and the people I knew fade away till —but you have found the rock beneath the earth?" " Certainly have struck something solid," Jim answered, slowly. He and Larry stood in tbe trench they had made against the cliff face. He bent and scraped the loose dirt from the rock. " But it's too dark to see what it's like." " There is gold there," the old man declared, with calm conviction. " I remember. There is gold, much gold." "I'll get the lantern," Larry suggested. His impressionable Celtic mind was convinced that they actually were on the edge of discovery. " An' tho pick. Then we'll soon see what's what." "You shall see," the old man declared, positively. " I said that I should pay for my food—and I remember." It was quite dark now and Jim could not seo the old man. The voice, too, seemed to havo grown fainter. The prospector went on with the clearing of the rocky face, and despite all his scepticism a faint hope was stirring, when Larry came back with the light. He didn't believe it, of course, but a conviction came stealing over him that they were on the edge of a big strike. As if a message of great hope were transmitted along his muscles to a super-excited brain by the very touch of the shovel against the rock. It was the wildest nonsense, but a surge of anticipation swept over him. Without sensible reason he was savagely exalted. " A leader it is, all right," Larry exclaimed. " Break out some pieces, Jimmy lad. I'm too much of a tremble. Where's the old boy?" " Somewhere handy." Jim prised the point of the pick into a crevice and levered briskly. " That's got it. • . . By tho Jumping Jupiter, he's right, Larry. There's dabs of gold all over it. Specimen stuff!" Tho pair slumped to their knees in the muddy trench staring feverishly at th<? broken face of the quartz in the dull glow of the lantern. " All o' that!" Larry almost choked in his excitement, then controlled himself with an effort. Ho slapped his comrade on tho back. Laughter that was near to tears swept over him. " He's paid for his meal all right, Jimmy. An' there's no need to worry about that girl o* yours any more. Nor me about tho sister s kids. There's enough there for all of us. I want to shake the old boy's fist. He ceAtainly remembered. W here are you, mate ? There was no answer, and though the pair, alarmed, searched everywhere, they could find no trace of the old man. He had vanished completely as if ho had never existed. "'S got mi} beat entirely. ' Larry scratched his hnad, as, tired out, they returned to the whare to gloat over their specimens and the knowledge that theie was much morn waiting to be hewn out. " Ho was crazy as a loon, an' yet be knew something beyond all of us. Maybe he was an old-timer, who'd found that leader 'way b ick. An' yet don t seem to cover everything, does it?" " I'm 'as foggy about it as you are, old boy." Jimmy sat on his bunk, his eyes on the yellow dabs in . the stone on the lamp-lit table. 'He came—and lie's gone." " After paying for his meal. " As you sa.y. after paying for his meal, Larry." Jimmy lit his pipe happily " And by gum, Larry, if city restaurants could get our prices on dinners, they d bo a holy lot of Rockefellers in town. It's clean beyond me. I give it up. We d better turn in. Big day to-morrow, pegging and registering the claim. And while we re doing that I'll send a wire to someone in town. She's not going to be unemployed so mighity long." j