HIS LIFE-LONG LESSON.

Otago Witness, Issue 3031, 17 April 1912, Page 90

HIS LIFE-LONG LESSON.

By Thos. Cottle. We were camped for the night away back in the tangled bush ranges, the boss and we three youngsters, after a mob of strayed cattle. Old Heron was a grand old man, any way you liked to take him. He never missed a cattle

muster, whether on horseback or on foot, as was. the case when heavy bush had to be scoured. Though considerably over 60 years of age, he would tramp all day through the broken gullies and over the precipitous ridges, and come in in the evening as fresh as the best of us. He was always our ideal of what a boss should be, jovial and genial, and as straight as a die. There was, however, a decided tinge of sadness on his fine old features. It always appeared to us out of place, and we could never account for it till that night. Afterwards we understood. Billy, the youngest of our party, was handling his loaded gun carelessly as we sat round the fire, and inadvertently pointed it at me. He had brought it Avith him on the chance of getting a wild pig. The boss at the moment was thoroughly enjoying his evening pipe, and foremost in the merry chaff which was accorded me a 3 the least proficient and most fatigued of the party. He became suddenly transformed. We had never seen him so moved before. In stentorian tones he roared at Billy, "But down that gun, sir, this instant! How dare you be so infernally careless?'' He could scarcely have spoken more sharply, or rated the youngster more severely than he proceeded to do if murder had been intended. The uncanny shrieks of some morepokes, as they fluttered out of the trees overhead, roused by the loud tones of his voice, added to the startling nature of the scene. We stared at the old man aghast. Even the usually irrepressible Billy was so surprised that he had nothing to say in defence. For some tune old Heron sat silently, puffing fiercely at his pipe. His eyes were fixed on the camp fire in front of him, but they had a curious far-away expression in them. He was apparently for the time totally oblivious of our presence. His whole features were transformed._ The sadness was not now a mere tinge, it was distinctly dominant. He finished his pipe, and refilled it. Then he turned to us and spoke in his natural voice. "I'm going to tell you, lads, a bit of my life story. When you've heard it you won't be surprised at my speaking" to Billy as I did just now. "When I was scarcely seventeen, about the age of Billy there, my father procured me a billet in a London office. He considered every boy ought to have a business training whatever vocation he afterwards followed. I was delighted at the prospect of seeing London, but I was only there a few weeks when I was peremptorily summoned to return home to Devon immediately. It appeared our neighbourhood had become infested with a gang of clever burglars. Father was away from home on important business, which might detain him for some time.' Mother was not in good health, and terribly alarmed at being left with only my two voung brothers, old Bates (the butler, who was pretty well in his dotage), and the maidservants in the house. "I purchased a big horse-pistol, ' as being handier for a close conflict than the guns we had at home, and much less expensive than what was then the latelyinvented revolver; then I hurried home post haste, not a little proud of being called on to defend my family from midnight marauders. "As you may imagine, I received a warm welcome. When I proudly exhibited my new purchase, my mother gave me explicit directions to be most careful in handling it, and on no account to allow my little brothers to touch it. I assured her her caution was unnecessary ; but in this I sadly erred, as you'll see shortly. Directly she left the room the little beggars were at me to let them hold it just for a minute, as they knew it wasn't loaded, but T sternly refused. "It was late in the afternoon when I arrived, and mother told me that our nearest neighbour, half a mile away, had received a visit from the gang the night before, and she greatly feared it would be our turn next. Father was a noted shorthorn breeder, and our sideboard was adorned with an array of valuable cups he had won at shows all round the coun-try-side : these, she felt certain, would tempt them. I thought it highly probable, and determined to be ready for them. "They were a cunning lot of scoundrels, and our yokels of bobbies had so far proved no match for them. After dinner I decided to run up to the King's Arms, where I knew T should hear all the latest news. I intended, also, to get our local constable to come and. stay the night with us. T found the bar-room crowded. The usual old topers were supplemented by many less frequent visitors, and the all-absorbing topic of conversation was, of course, the burglaries. Various opinions were given as to the reasons why, when a burglary took place, the men'in blue always happened to be off on a hunt in an entirely different direction. When I asked where our man was to be found, our burlv blacksmith, Blundering Bill, as they called him, replied: 'They be off to Brcntzidc to-night, zir. Thev reckon as they've got a clue, as they calls it. They be allers off zumwheres. T reckon as how they'm paid more fur keenin' out of the road than they be fur catchin' of 'em; or else they'm feared!' 'You dare to zav zuch things about mv brother!" roared Ben, (lie pugnacious little cobbler, as he snrang forward, and landed the big fellow a crack between the eyes which eent him spinning. He was furious when he regained his feet, but the others crowded round promptly, and prevented any present retaliation, crying: 'Yon desarved it, Bill. Let little Bennie alone, or we'll make 'ee!' "I went up to the little cobbler, and said I was sorry his brother was away because I had a strong conviction that the scoundrels would give us a look in that night, and I'd like to have him handy. Then, seeing Ben's brows blacken ominously, I added that I didn't for a moment believe that his brother and his mates kept out of the way on purpose,

as Bill suggested, but that I suspected that the villains had put an accomplice up to mislead them with some trumpedup story that might take in the best of us. "This mollified him to some purpose. 'I tell 'ee what, zir; if zo be as you be zo minded, I'll, run round to the Hall and help 'ee, seein' as Bob ain't here. Though I bain't as big as Bill there,- I ain't no slouch when there's fightin' about,' he replied. 'l'll come zo well,' offered Blundering Bill, but I didn't want him, for though he was as strong as a bull he was every bit as clumsy and stupid, and would only be in the way. "Having thanked Ben, I left the pub. He promised to follow later, as he had a pair of shoes he must go home and mend for his missis first, for though the plucky little fellow wasn't scared of any man in the parish, he was mortally so of her. I got home, and feeling very tired after my journey, I decided to have an hour's 3leep before lien arrived, so I ordered the old butler to wake me when he came, loaded the pistol, and put it carefully under my pillow, and lay down on my bed with my clothes on. In due course old Bates's rap woke me. Ben had arrived. I rose immediately, and went downstairs to fix our plans for the night, but did not trouble to take my weapon with me, as it was too early in the night for the burglars to appear. "I had just arranged for Ben to take 1 the first watch when the silence of the night was broken by the sharp report of a pistol shot, followed instantly by heart-rending screams, hurried opening of doors and rushing to and fro. And, my God! the sounds came from my room! I flew up the stairs, closely followed by Ben, and, horror of horrors! found my youngest brother, the pet of the household, lying dead on the floor with the other bending over him crying bitterly, and mother in a dead faint by his side, her night attire stained with his blood. The dear little fellows had been awake and heard me go down-stairs, then they stole into my room and found the p istol. Never dreaming it was loaded, the one had pointed it at the other and pulled the trigger, playing burglars, they called it. "You can imagine my feelings; they were indescribable. I'll pass over the awful horrors of that night. Suffice it to say we were all frantic with grief. Father was, of course, instantly summoned home. There is only one thing that he said to me which matters to this story. It was his final exhortation, and I have obeyed it to the very letter, feeling it waa my only reparation. This was it: 'Let this* be a life-lesson to you, my poor lad. Never on any account allow a gun, whether loaded or not, to be pointed at anyone, in what they call fun, in your presence.' And I never have. A' life-lesson it has truly been, and an exceedingly bitter one. My mother never recovered from the shock, and father wa6 not the same man after he lost her gentle companionship. Everything appeared to go wrong with him, and the old home was eventually broken up. , "By the way, though it does not matter to this story, I may as well say here that the burglars didn't come near us that night. Ben's brother proved to be on the right scent. He and his mates ran them in at Brent, many miles away. "I never went back to my billet in London, but the squire of our parish took me on as under gamekeeper. I was glad to take even that employment. On one occasion he had a grand shooting party., Two young sprigs of the nobility, whom he was very proud to have secured, were the most honoured guests. The daughters of the house were lovely girls, and of marriageable age. I waa delighted when the squire told the young fellows that 1 should be their special attendant that day, for he wished them to get the best, sport, and, though only a lad, I knew more bout the game than even the head keeper. He didn't know I had overheard him, but gave me full instructions afterwards. I fulfilled my duties so thoroughly that, during a rest in a woody nook they said they had never had better sport, arid the cider offered me a much better billet, that of taking charge of his game. Before I had time to accept, something happened. For some reason or other the young idiot playfully pointed his gun at his friend. Whether it was loaded or not, I didn't even stop to think. ' Put down that gun this instant, sir!' I screamed. ' You damned insolent young rascal! WJiat the devil do you mean?' he roared in response, turning the gun full on me as he spoke. ' I'll cut you down if you don't drop that gun this moment!' I yelled, seizing a woodman's axe which happened to be sticking in a stump clusc at hand, and springing toward him. '• The gun dropped from his hands, and he jumped !>ehind a tree. ' Help, Harry, help ! The young devil's gone clean mad!' he whined. Of course there was the devil of a row, and equally of course I was dismissed without a character. "Many years after I was acting as steward* at a race meeting here in New Zealand. As a group of tourists whom we were alx>ut, to entertain at lunch approached I noticed one whose face seemed familiar to me, but I cpuld not recall where I had met him. He walked with a peculiar halt. I asked a brother steward who he was. ' Lord So-and-So,' lie re?iled (the name does not matter). Then remembered. ' He seems lame,' I remarked. ' Ye.s,' replied my friend, 'he has an artificial leg. Always used to be a careless beggar with firearms, but he's a. bit more careful now.' I was introduced to him, but he did not appear to remember me. "The incident I have just related was only one of many in which I strictly carried out my father's exhortation. And now you know, boys, why I spoke so severely to Bill." Then, after a pause, he added : "Time to roll into the blankets, lads. Early start in the morning, remember."