GREENSTONE
By Erl King
// Y TELL you what I'd like to do beI fore my holiday at the sheep staI tion is over," said Jeremy Wyndham to his cousin Janet ono lazy aftornoon. " I'd like to have a yarn with that old Maori horrait Uncle Ted was talking about. You know, tho ancient bird who lives alono in that cavo in tho river gorge. I've nover mot a hermit in real life, and it would certainly bo an experience." Jeremy's cousin Janet was a tall, fairhaired, fresh-faced girl, about his own nge. On Jeremy's arrival a week or two before she had been inclined to treat him as a typical city boy, who had to bo constantly reminded ho was a greenhorn in tho country. Since lie hacl successfully rounded up a gang of sheepstealers on the station, however, and had recovered a largo mob of sheep for her father and saved him from .ruin, Jeremy had gono up considerably in her estimation. Now.she said: " If I didn't feel so lazy I'd suggest wo saddle-up Garbo and Rufus and went down to the gorge this afternoon . . . Look, I toll you what. If you catch the horses -I'll como with you to the gorge and taka you to the hermit's cave. What do you say to that?" " Done," said Jeremy Wyndham, and disappeared in tho direction of the long paddock. Ten minutes later the two children, , comfortably seated upon Garbo, the white filly, and Rufus, the red gelding, were slowly making their way down the tusaoek flat to trie Danby River a mountain stream that ran through a wide shingle bed between high limestone cliffs, about three miles from the homestead. "As a matter of fact," said Janet, " tho old hermit might not bo there now. One .of the mnsterers from the Beacon told me he's been in very poor health, and his relations wore thinking of removing him from his cave by sheer force in order to save his life." " He must be pretty old, I suppose." " Oh, years and years. Some people say he's over a hundred, but that's hardly believable. Tou wait till you see the cave. You'll wonder how anybody can live in it." " What happens when the river cornea up?" " That's just the point. When there's a flood the water doesn't come up as high as the cave mouth, but it soaks through all the rock and earth below the cave, until the whole place is dripping with moisture. It's a wonder the old chap hasn't died of rheumatism yearii ago." (/ ■ " I say, there's a bit of a flood in the river now, isn't there?" " Good gracious! I should say there • is! • . . Now, that's rather a pity, because we'll have to go into the cave by the back door. It will be impossible to get round the cliff. Come on, we'll hurry." Kicking their horses into a canter, the two children moved on quickly toward the great river gorge. "Come on," whispered Janet excitedly, " a few feet more and we'll see daylight."
Jeremy followed as best ho could, nnd in silence, for ho had nover been in such a situation before. On arrival at tho cliff's edge they had entered a clump of unpleasant Wild Irishman, and then had commenced scrambling down this weird tunnel through tho earth —tho Maori hermit's back door. At intervals large stones wore sot in the sido of tho tunnel, and these provided footholds; but. the darkness was now impenetrable. Suddenly, however, Janet, who was leading the way, gave a little cry of pleasure. " Slowly, now," she cautioned. " We'll bo in the cavo in a moment. In a moment I'll jump, and you can follow m«i a little while after." Jeremy realised that they wore looking down into the half-light of a largo cavern. Next moment his cousin had jumped, and was standing safe and sound below. Jeremy followed in due course,, and tho two children stood closo together in the nemi-gloom, trying to make out exactly where they were and what it was like. "I 3 he here?" whispered Jeremy. " I don't know," replied Janet; and commenced to tip-too into the inner recesses of : the cavern. After a while
she beckoned to Jeremy, and he followed. Janet pointed to something long and dark that was lying on the rocky ground before her. At the same time, and involuntarily, she gripped her cousin's arm. Lying stretched out as if asleep, and wrapped in an ancient army blanket, was an old, a very old Maori man. His hair was snow white against the dark chocolate-brown colour of his skin, and his face was broken up into a thousand lines and scars. He looked just like a Maori carving—Jeremy could not help thinking—but he also looked rather terrible. Janet's grip on her cousin's arm increased. "He l-'lcoks f-funny to me," She said. His cousin's fear, however, gave Jeremy strength. " He's only asleep," he said; and the next moment ho bent
down towards tho recumbent figure and shouted " Hi!" Suddenly the old man groaned, and moved, as if to bring himself into a sitting position. " Children —what are children doing in my cave? " came in clear, if faint tones from tho old Maori. Jeremy and Janet looked at each other. Jeremy was tho first to find his tongue. " My name's Jeremy Wyndham," ho said, "and this is my cousin Janet. Wo como from Mr. Wyndham's station over at Grey Peaks. We had heard about you, and thought we'd like to look into your cave/' The old Maori looked from one to tho other gravely. " I did not think I was such an object of interest to tho white settlers," ho replied. " But you come just at the right moment. If you had not come now you might have been too late. I shall soon bo leaving this world, and I have a very great gift to bestow upon those who assist mo in my last duty. Are you ready? " Jeremy saw his cousin nod her head, and ho said: "Wo'll do anything in our
power to help you, Mr. Hermit, provided it is a right thing. And we're not looking for a reward." The old man looked keenly at Jeremy. "If that is tho way you talk," ho answered, "you will do. Now, listen. Although I am by rights a Rangatira, my people have no love for me. I have adopted Christianity, and have become a hermit, when I should have devoted my life to increasing tho material wealth of my tribe. . . Over on that ledge there you will find a richlycarved box. Bring it to me." Jeremy complied, and laid tho box upon the old Maori's lap. Tho hermit proceeded to open it with a strange little key, and extracted a flat piece of greenstone, upon which were some curious markings. " I will tell you a story," he said. (To be continued)
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19351026.2.179.23.1
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22250, 26 October 1935, Page 4 (Supplement)
Word Count
1,149GREENSTONE New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22250, 26 October 1935, Page 4 (Supplement)
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