A SOUTHERN MYSTERY.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1715, 11 January 1905, Page 7

A SOUTHERN MYSTERY.

(By ‘‘Ta.kaka,” for the ‘ N.Z. Mail.”) CHAPTER I. On the outskirts of a small country town, in one of the sea s’: hern districts of New Zealand, and on the banks of a verdant river, dwelt a man named Watson and his wife. They had lived there for many years as tillers of the soil in a small way. Sometimes their income was augmented by a few days’ work given to the old man by the neighbouring blacksmith. Watson was a farrier by trade and a first-class band, and might have made a. good living on his own account had it not been that he was blind in one eye, caused by an accident. The day on which my story opens lie had been successful in disposing of some farm produce to the amount of several pounds, and, prudent like, hastened early the next morning to place it in the bank, some miles distant.

His wife watched him open the garden gate and take the track that led to the bridge that spanned the river a. little above their dwelling, and until che trees that skirted each side of the road hid him from her sight. What would have been her feelings had she then known that she had looked on her husband that day Tor the last time alive? But such, was -the case, for Watson from that hour mysteriously disappeared, and not the slightest trace of his whereabouts came to light for many months.

If murder had been committed, tlie object had certainly not been plunder, as the next day all the money in notes a.na geld that lie had been known to have on his person had been found on the track near his dwelling, carefully rolled m a white cloth, ihe corner of which, having been exposed to view, had attracted the eye of the ever-watch-ful detectives set on the watch. The cloth had spots of blood oil it, and proved to be that in which Watson had trad his money the day before. Strange tilings happen in this world, but nothing in the annals of New Zealand history—nor, I venture to- say, could be found m the pages of fiction—to equal this southern mystery. For weeks a vigorous search had been kept up. The police force of the district had been .supplemented with some of idle smartest officers in the New Zealand service, besides two defectives who had been sent from amongst the cleverest the Australasia a colonies could produce, but without avail. Not one clue could bo brought forward, or one ray of light thrown on the mysterious affair.

Everything relating to Watson’s movements cn the day in question after lie let:, home was silent, as the grave. The river near bis home had been dragged and redragged many times, hut always with the same futile results, which gave rise to many curious conjectures, for if not found in the deep holes and hollows of this treacherous river, where were they to look? Some suggested that he had been drugged and sec adrift in an open boat that had been found after a storm, bottom upwards. Then an idea began to gain ground that he had taken French leave, for reasons best known to* himself, even in face of the fact of his money being found and coupled with the knowledge that he had money at the bank still undrawn. So time went by till the end cf the fourth month, when the finding of Watson's body sent a startling shock through the small community. Ip had been discovered by some boys while fishing in the river not more than one hundred yards from his dwelling. At first they thought they had fished up* a sack of clothes, hut on examination it proved to be the body of the missing man. It was by the merest accident that the foul deed ever came to light.

A neighbour wishing for some dry wood for household purposes had gone to the river side, where lay a splendid pin© that bad lain there many summers, with its severed branches hanging into the stream. When these were severed from the trunk they were carried slowly downward by the water, and with them they dragged their gruesome burden, for to their branches the sack containing Watson’s body had been fastened. The boys had climbed up, anticipating unusual success from this new vantage ground, and had only just thrown in their lines, lifatlo dreaming that they would draw out such a ghastly

object. On examination there was found a. large indentation on the man’s head and a dark blue mark in the region of the heart, either of which was sufficient to cause instant death, and was probably inflicted by some blunt instrument like the head of an axe. Be it as if may, nothing mere ever came to light, and poor Watson’s death became a tiling cf the past, to ponder over and conjecture. And so the quiet district sol tied down again to its even-going, uneventful life, and the mysterioivs affair remained, seemingly for all time, one of those inexplicable tragedies of modern days. CHAPTER 11. Now I will beg my readers to kindly follow' me, and to a very different scene —away to* a New Zealand goldfield that was opened up years and years before the opening -of my story, and where hundreds of miners pitched their tents and sought eagerly for the precious metal. Among the number to help to swell the ever-increasing human tide going thither was the late Will Watson and his mate, Nat Symonds. On their arrival they set up their tent* on a convenient spot, and next to a shabby-looking one that stood in close proximity to a building that did duty as a bank. This in the first instance had been a store, and the bolts that, had been considered strong enough to guard the storekeeper’s goods had given place to stronger ones such as the bank re-

quired. The shabby-looking tent was occupied by two men named “Dong Pete” and “Carroty Joe.” They had arrived amongst the first almost on the diggings. They were two cf the most evil and repulsive-looking men one could meet in a day’s march. Both possessed unusually muscular bodies; but, still, “Carroty Joe” dwindled into insignificance beside “Long Pete,” who came to l)e known by the sobriquet of “Samson” as well. Muscles standing, out all over his limbs like knotted cords, and with a countenance of the most villainous type at is possible to conceive ; a long red scar lay over til© only eye he could boast of, which lie used to say he lost when a youngster during t ome boyish game. Altogether, lie. was a

man one would not care to have much to do* with, or his male either. Both

he and his mate were looked on with’ no friendly eyes by the other diggers, who never had but a passing word with them. But to Watson they were sociable and inclined to be friendly. H© had gone several times to their tenfc, more out of curiosity than a feeling of reciprocity. Pete was a good hand at telling yarns, and he could tell some blood-curdling tales. If all were time that he entertained Watson with, many were his escapes from prison, and once he had only escaped hanging by a hair’s breadth.

Thus, some weeks went by, till one night Watson’s mate had been taken, suddenly ill. He had rushed away for assistance, and of course went to th© nearest, tent, which was that of “Long Pete’s.” It was long past midnight, a.nd all evidently silent and asleep, for not a sound was to be heard.

i Entering unceremoniously, to his surprise the tent was empty, but a faint light came from the far end. At the same time he fancied he hoard th© sound of muffled voices, that seemed to com© from beneath his feet. Drawing away the screen that partly shaded the light, he beheld an underground tunnel. He might be dreaming, for all h/e understood, as he stood gazing at “Long Pete” and “Carroty Joe,” as tiiey cam© towards him, each carrying an apparently heavy parcel and a light. In a second it came to him that they were robbing the bank of its precious hoard. The moment the men found that they were discovered, they sprang towards him with terrible oaths, coupled with threats of future vengeance. “Long Pete,” snatching up an iron bar that, lay near, made a desperate lounge at Watson, which meant instant death had it reached him, but, deftly evading til© uplifted missile, he sprang through the opening of the tent- and disappeared in the darkness beyond. Here, again, fortune favoured him, as the night was dark ns Hades, and to this fact he certainly owed his life, for he soon succeeded in evading the* men, who fled in hot pursuit after him. Loudly calling for help, the tide of affairs was turned, and the two desperadoes sought safety in flight. In a -very short time nearly all the inhabitants had turned out, vowing eternal vengeance* on them for attempting to rob the bank of the hard earnings

committed to its care. As the search continued the hue and cry became terrible, and a scene of the wildest confusion followed, the shout for vengeance preponderating above all else. Torches, iaratems, and any kind of light procurable'—even candles —were hastily snatched up, and as they flashed about showed one heterogeneous mass, mingled amidst hoarse groans and shouts, forming a spectacle not often witnessed in a lifetime, and assuredly augured no friendly handling for the two men when caught. Hour after hour passed in vainly searching, so cleverly had they disappeared, that one might suppose they had been spirited away. All night through, the search had been kept up, and until the sun rose. Then an hour was spent in na-jt and partaking of refreshments, and afterwards the search resumed. All work was suspended, and ©very inch of ground was thoroughly scrutinised, till some, almost exhausted, were about to give up in despair. Then someone in the impatient crowd remembered that there was a bloodhound belonging to the camp. The knowledge was hailed with deafening cheers; the animal was instantly released, and, followed by a maddened crowd, anywhere, everywhere, over any obstruction it was possible for human foot to pass, sometimes the hound would take them to a part slightly withdrawn from the camp, and at another’ rush, harking wildly, to bunches of low scrub 5 and those ill front would shout back to those in the rear that they were at last on the trail, only to be again and again disappointed. ht> soon became evident that the animal. was labouring under a disadvantage. The ground had been traversed by too many feet for it to make a distinction. Therefore some other means must be adopted if their search was to be successful; but, harassed and fired, they were at their wits’ end to know what to do, and were pondering on what step to take next; when at this juncture a young man a little clearerheaded than the rest suggested taking the dog across a small river a short distance from where they stood. This, too, was hailed with deafening shouts, and the whole host rushed instantly pell-mell into the water, jostling and stumbling over each other as they went. On gaming the other side of the stream a fresh start was made, headed by the hound, which instantly found a trail. On and on they rushed, through brambles and thicket, now here, now there, following their leader, till he brought them to a small lagoon. Down its sides he scrambled, half a dozen powerful men following. Still they could see nothing—nothing but two small objects on the surface of the water, and which they certainly would have passed but for the dog’s restless motions, which caused them to make a close investigation ; then found, to their amazement, that the two men were there—their bodies conoealed beneath the water and only their faces above. When drawn from their place of concealment they pre'ented a shocking spectacle of forlorn wretchedness, with wet clothes and benumbed limbs that could scarcely bear the weight of their bodies when brought to land, and as they cowered submissive but dogged silence before their captors they presented a scene to make one shudder.

For several minutes they stood facing the crowd like two sullen wild animals at bay, casting fugitive glances round them as though looking for a possible chance of escape ; but not-much time was given for thought-, for they were soon handcuffed and marched off—half dragged, half carried —back to the place whence they came, followed by a shouting crowd that called lustily for instant vengeance, and could scarcely be kept, from laying hands on them. In <7ne time their punishment had been mo ed out to them, which was ten years with hard labour, and which term ended shortly before the time- my story opened. SEQUFL. Yet another scene, and my story is told; so I would that my kind readers would follow me back to the day when "Will Watson was missed from his home so many years ago, back to the pretty winding path he took to reach the bridge, and over, till a few yards beyond stands a small turn bled-dow n shanty, where two men eat over the slowly-fading embers of a fire in deep converse. The hour is 1 a.mi, and the night exceedingly dark. The younger of the two is minus an eye, and has a deep red scar across hie temple, which is plainly visible in the dim fire light as he pushes back his bat, and remarks to his companion, “Well, mate, we have had our revenge.” “Yes/' was the answer: "but we have bad to wait a long'time for it.” “Well, ‘ bettor late than never/ so the saying is, and I would have paid off our score sooner if I hadn’t been nabbed that time I got out before our time was up, you remember.”

A nod was all the other vouchsafed an reply. “And now.” continued the first speaker, “we’ll have to be sharp out of this, or, maybe, there will be another ten years- for us.” “jviore likely a long rope and a good swing,” returned the other-

“Ah! if they catch us; but I guess they will have a hard tussle. It was about as neat a hit of business as I ever heard tell of,” lie continued with a chuckle. “The old man never guessed as it were his olcf mates come back after so many years to meet an acquaintance and wipe out an old score,” and they both laughed softly. “Then,” continued the same' speaker, “he looked quite unsuspecting-like when I asked him to come into the house where we had put up till the morning, and see if he could tell me what was the matter with my mate as was took ill sudden like. He didn’t know my face again. Yes, it makes me lairf when I think on it. I3ut he hadn’t much time to look back to them days, I guess; and I reckon it will he some' time before our old friend comes to light.” “Yes, I guess so, too, if we have luck to get cut of this, and I say as we ought to be off at once. The steamer leaves punctual at 5 a.m.; the captain told me so himself yesterday when we ooane across.” And so saying, the two men passed silently out into the night, and made their way to , where they lost identitv in the busy, pulsing throng. And so ends one of the strangest tales of New Zealand life.