SHINGLES FROM AN OLD ROOF.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 825, 12 August 1864, Page 6

SHINGLES FROM AN OLD ROOF.

By a Free and East Suinglek,

SHINGLE THE .THIRTEENTH. —HOW I SAW

THE MOA,

It is generally supposed that the Moa is extinct, and I am not going to advance any pet hypothesis of my own to the contrary. Yet if such be the case the extinction must have occurred somewhat recently— only yesterday, as it were, in the history of the world. Brown may stare incredulously, and Jones may turn up his eyes in ama?em£nt,' and Robinson may exclaim — " Nonsense!" But I have a tendency— —weak and romantic possibly;—but a verystrong tendency nevertheless, to believe in the evidence of my own eyes; and, gentlemen, I once saw the Moa, and this is how it happened.

Some years ago I was out in the Pomahaka country searching for stray cattle. My companions were two in number. The first was a biped;—a very well disposed animal of his species, according to his lights. His name was Mac—something—we always called him Mac, for short; and I may remark en passant that a stouterhearted, or less visionary fellow I never met with. He was one, moreover, who always wanted toi know all about things; a stern stickler for unadorned truth, and a rigid searcher into the root of a matter. I mention these traits to give due emphasis to what follows. My other friend was an honest collie-dog, a sagacious sorter of cattle by day, and a faithful watcher by night. There is a wild tract of mountainous country stretching around the head waters of the Fomahaka, underneath the fogcovered summits of the White Coomb, and between the main Umbrella Ranges and the Molyneux River. A more deso-late-looking region, or one more fitted for the retreat of.the last of the Moas, could scarcely be conceived. Lofty ranges, often capped with snow, and dingy with sparse brown vegetation, are intersected by deep gullies—gloomy even in the broad light of day, and terribly dismal at night. Not even a bird blessed our vision as we traversed that wilderness, nor did we come across a single sheep or a stray bullock during the entire day. Even the wild pigs seemed to shun the locality ■ and as our chances of reaching C- —'s station became less, and the supplies in our wallets gradually diminished, we came to the unpleasant conclusion, that we should have to go supperless to bed. We had, indeed, the alternative of regaling ourselves on a repas of lizards, a few of whom crawled about in a melancholy manner, turning up their lack-lustre eyes at us, and lazily avoiding our footsteps, as if they were infected by the all-pervading gloominess. . However, fortune for once -befriended us, Just as the last rays of the westering sun were dallying with the top-most peaks, •we came to a small Stygian-looking creek, in the scrub surrounding which.a select party of swine had encamped for the night. The sharp noSe of the collie quickly scented them, and dashing into their midst, sans ceremony, he routed the entire family. Out they came, some four or five in number, and. gallopped away down the gully in fine style, being, no doubt, in a hurry to save their bacon. But one fine young gentleman—rasher than the other sons of Ham—stayed behind to have a look at the ' intruders. The delay sealed his fate, and provided us with a supper. I knocked him over with a well-directed shot, and Mac finished him with his knife. A fire wassreedily kindled, and the eerie-look-ing glen glowed witb reflected brightness, as we toasted the delicate collops before the ruddy blaze. After all what is the use of cookery unsauced by appetite. The latter we possessed in perfection. Need I say that we fared sumptuously? And then the deliciousness of the mountain dew, wherewith our repast was qualified;—the fragrance pf the nicotian herb, the grateful fumes whereof ascended in graceful wreaths from our comfortable pipes! Under these soothing influences we forgot all carking cares, and lay dreamily looking up at the stars, and thinking pleasant thoughts inspired of Nature on ■whose loving breast we reclined; thoughts engendered of peace and solitude, such as never come to us in the busy haunts of men.

All at once, Mac started to his feet, ex- I claiming — lt Gude guide us! — What's yon?" . | Just in front of our position, a long, < sharp spur ran down from the ranges into \ the gully, and by the dim starlight I saw | some white object standing erect on the ridge,—apparently, gazing down at us in wonderment at our unusual bon-fire—the first, probably, that had ever burned there. What its form was we could not distinguish, so we advanced towards it to the foot of the spur, when ■we could discern that the creature ■was prodigiously tall, had a.long head, and only.two legs ;at any rate, only two i were visible to us. I was still walking on ' when Mac stopped me— *8 Whaur's the doggie ?" he asked. And simultaneously ■we observed thatfthe collie had ceased to accompany us, as at starting 5 and was now squatting on its haunches far in our rear and whining uneasily; nor could , our united powers of persuasion induce him to advance another step. Uttering an exclamation by no means complimentary to our canine friend and his race in general, I was about to ascend the slope. But Mac clutched me by the arm, and begged me to return, declaring that "the thing" was "no canny." I laughed at his superstitious fears, aud as he positively refused to go any further, I climbed the hill alone, determined to satisfy: myseli at all hazards. But lo! the object of my quest suddenly disappeared over the ridge ; and although I ran up to the top with a degree of haste_ which certainly was most injudicious—the quantity and quality of my late repast being taken into consideration—not a trace could I perceive of our visitant. En verite, it had disappeared "like the baseless fabric of a vision!" Shall I confess that I felt a thrill of awe as I gazed around on the stern bleak ranges and the hollows steeped in impenetrable shadow, and pondered on the reality of the apparition which had thus apparently mocked my senses and eluded my approach—which had so amazed Mac, and aroused the instinctive terrors of the poor brute, whose* dismal howls resounded through the glen ? Once more at the fire-side, however, I scouted the idea of our having beheld any-

thing supernatural. What sort of ghosts should they be who would willingly haunt the mountains and gorges of Otagof It is a pretty well ascertained fact m the natural history of ghosts that they hay vno emigrating tendencies, that they rarely affect new countries, and seldom try it on at the Antipodes. , But how if our strange visitor should have been a Moa ? It was not certain, I argued, that ''the fearful great bird" was altogether extinct. We discussed this point and a second pannikin of whiskey with considerable zesfc; and even when we retired for rest to our couch of fresh-gathered fern, the subject continued to animate me, till Mac's regularly recurrent nasal responses convinced me that further argument was useless. Beau Phoebus was flushing the white peaks of the lofty ranges with roseate kisses when I was disturbed by the dog, which barked and howled alternately in a strange and unusual manner. Raising \ myself on my elbow, I peered _ lazily around, and not observing anything, I bade the animal be quiet, and laid down again. But my faithful collie knew better. He continued to exhibit manifestations of uneasiness, and at length fairly pawed at my face to attract attention. This was not to be borne. I jumped up in a mood for saying or doing something very violent, when— Whew !— I beheld a sight which fairly forced the words down my throat. On the same ridge as I have already referred to there stood—what do you suppose ?—a veritable Moa! It was fully 16 feet in height, with a long gaunt neck, and stilt-like legs, and appeared to be of a tawny or dull white color. For a few moments we stared at each other in mutual astonishment. I suppose we both felt the peculiarity of the situation, consequent on the want of a proper introduction. At length, tired of this distant scrutiny, the creature began to make advances, as if it meditated a more intimate acquaintance. With slow but peculiarly graceful strides it came on towards our camp. Near and nearer it approached till its tall and majestic form almost hovered over me; and only when it was within a few paces did I recover my presence of mind sufficiently to seize my gun. In an instant I had the weapon at my shoulder, and was iust about to draw the trigger, when suddenly the prize was snatched from my grasp. Really it was the most provoking thing in the world. The entire skeleton of a Moa would have been a priceless treasure; and I give you my word of honor that I had that Moa in a beautiful line for a clean shot at his breast, when Mac shook me roughly by the arm, and 1 awoke. "Whatna deil ails ye the noo?" — speered my worthy crony. "Eh, mon! but ye've been granin' and yammerin'awa maist awsome. I doubt a' thae pork and whusky was a wheen mair than's gude for ye!" Maybe it was. But if so, I do not regret it at all; for it placed me in a position to assert, that—with the exception of two gentlemen in the Wakatip country to whom the Moa has more recently appeared, (I have no doubt it was the very same bird)—l am the only person of this generation who has ever enjoyed the honor of a personal interview^ with that Illustrious Stranger. Jones reminds me that I have not accounted for the apparition of the previous evening. Well, I have serious doubts about that. You perceive, mon ami, it may have been the ghost of a Moa. ' Doom'd tor a certain time to walk the earth; or it may have been too much pork and whisky. Who knows? But I may mention, incidentally and as not at all bearing on this knotty point, that on going down the gully next morning we fell in with a white -horae, who' had probably lost himself in the ranges; or perhaps he was an equine misanthrope and had wilfully retreated to those wilds, preferring liberty in solitude to slavery in the best com r pany. _____»_«———