THE NOVELIST

Otago Witness, Issue 3803, 1 February 1927, Page 62

THE NOVELIST

OUTER DARKNESS.

A PACIFIC ADVENTURE.

By

FRANK H. BODLE

( Copyright. —Fo:

the Witness.)

CHAPTER XIV'—REBELLION. Hira’s eyes half closed; in all humility she looked upon the ground. Love of a stranger liad brought her a very difficult task. Upon her simple-seeming, so much hung and this other Woman, who, too, loved a stranger, had cold, clear eyes and a nose to smell out plottings. Hira looked up and gazed unafraid into the searching eyes of the Daughter of Light. As two women fighting for their mates, they stared and weighed their words. “Rawiri, the brown man, whom I love -—Hira threw back her head with a gesture half humble, half defiant—and who has said that he loves me, has sent me a word for the Daughter of Light.” “I hear,” said the Woman. “What is this word?” “He comes to the Falls, with a woman called Kiti. You have heard of her?” The Woman nodded. Her eyes held a frosty gleam. “Go on,” she ordered. “With the woman Kiti and a great band of Hika’s followers, they come to the Falls, purposing to follow here,” Hira went on. Her voice shook as with fear. “But I fear for the brown man whom I love, for they have some secret plan of which he knows not the real import. He has heard them whisper that this Kiti is a Daughter of Ra, the Bright One, the Life-giver, and though not he* nor the woman Kiti know, their plans, I fear that they plot to throne her as god here in this place; to call on the people for aid.” Hira’s voice trailed off into silence. “What else?” the Woman asked coldly. “I fear for the man I love,” Hira mumbled. “There will be fighting, maybe it has started even now. They come to the Falls with a great company, and fighting is an ill thing.” Her voice grew passionate, and she took a pleading step towards the Woman of the Throne, flinging out her hands in appeal. “I beg, O Daughter of Light, for I have seen an evil vision. I saw them place my man in the forefront, pushing him into the heart of the battle and driving him on and on —to death.” “And this other woman, this Kiti, saw you her in this vision?” The Woman leant forward unable to restrain her eagerness.

“She was with him, but I thought not of her, and I could not see the end of their schemes. I see only that it means death to him I love; so now I beg you to take your guards, all your guards, and nip this rebellion ere it fruits forth, rescuing my man from his fate.” “And this other woman, Kiti,” softlv the Daughter of Light called the name. “Let that be as you will,” Hira cried eagerly. “It is the man, the brown man Rawiri, for whom I plead. You will take the guards, great Ariki, and, crushing this rebellion, save my man from the fate I dread for him.” “It is a likely tale.” The woman mused, while Hira gnawed her lip till the blood came. The woman’s stare pierced through her, striving to read the troublemaker’s inmost secrets. “If I thought that this were true I would do as you say with all gladness,” the woman said at length. “But it is a mad, improbable tale. First, how did vou come bv this message of the brown man ?” “News. I bring news for the Daughter of Light!” called a muffled voice from the door. “Come tell it me,” the woman called. A guardsman entered and saluted the woman. It was the sentry who had guarded Rawiri and Brian. “There is fighting by the fall,” the man mumbled fearfully. Hira looked at him with bitter scorn, then flashed a glance upon the woman, who had sprung to her feet at his words. “There is fighting. The brown man and a strange' woman lead a host of Hika’s men. They are iriad.” “It is as I foretold,” Hira wailed suddenly. “Wilt thou not strike a blow for thy kingdom, and with it for my man ?” “Silence!” said- the woman sharply. “How many be there in this rebellion?” ; “A great company,” the soldier mumbled. “We hold them with difficulty, and I was sent for aid.” He shuffled uneasilv.

“Summon the guards, and bid them wait for me on the terrace,” the woman said briskly. She turned to Hira with eyes that were brilliant with the hard brightness of a gem. “For thy warning I thank thee, Hira, and in, return I will save this brown man.” She laughed

harshly. “But not the woman, Hira, not the woman Kiti. I have other plans for her.” “I ask only for the man,” Hira pleaded. “Let me go now to pray for your success.” Humbly she walked from the room. The woman slipped out through the cunningly devised door in the back of the back of the recess, and walked through her own bedchamber to Brian’s room. “My cloak and axe,” she said to Ripa, and the girl slipped out. Brian was awake, and smiled at her. The woman bent down and ran her fingers through his red hair, bent down and touched it with her cheeks. Happy with the hidden knowledge of Kitty’s message, the smile still clung around his eyes. Ripa, returning, clasped the dogskin cloak around her mistress’s neck, then girdled a metal chain around the woman’s waist, and in it hung a bright copper axe. Ariki Toki,” Ripa bowed reverentially. Brian stared in amazement. This was wonderfully curious he reflected. His Maori was sufficient to tell him that the girl had named her mistress the Axe-bearing Chief, the very title, and syllable for syllable, the same words that were used among the Araucanians of Chile before the Spaniards came*. Curious, and yet, after all, only another link between Polynesiar and that South America where only the chief might wear the toki, which is both Maori and Araucanian for axe. The woman’s voice brought him out of his dreams. “ Soon, very soon, I will return, Periani,” she murmured tenderly, “ and then there shall be no shadow beween us.” “ I don’t know what you say,” Brian answered whimsically, “ but it sounds all right.” He touched the polished surface of the axe at her side. “ Don’t go on the warpath with this little plavthiug, this toki,” he added. “It’s too sharp altogether for a lady of your hasty temperament to carry about. And if it’s convenient I’m desperately hungry; ‘ heakai,’ I think you call it.” “ Ripa, see that he has food,” the woman called as she swept out. “ Goodbye. Periani, for a very little.” The walls of the room where Brian had slept ’ were hewn out of the living rock, yet despite their thickness he heard a dim confusion of shouting and trampling. Then clearly came a trumpet call. “ Now I wonder what deviltry this young party’s up to now,” Brian muttered anxiously. “ I wish I could find out.” The thudding of feet took definite coherence; it was the sound of many men marching in unison. “Ripa, Ripa!” he called. That young person had her head half out of a slit in the wall of her mistress’s room, and was staring down upon the terrace above the bubbling pools. She was far too engrossed to heed the summons of anyone. Brian sat up in bed, and then with a great effort staggered dizzily to his feet. Realising that he was unclad he wound the sheets around his body and plunged toward the door of the next room. Hanging to the entrance he peered in, and saw Ripa’s back. The sound of marching feet was plainer now, and he shuffled towards the slit through which Ripa stared. He stumbled a dozen times and almost fell. He was like a baby, walking by himself for the first time. “ Ripa,” he called again. The girl looked around panic-stricken, then came running to him and tried to swing him around towards his bed and rest. But Brian, weak though he was, felt that he must see what was beyond that window. Something that was afoot out there concerned him very nearly he felt. He must learn what it was. “I must see, “he said stubbornly, and pointed to the window opening. Reluctantly Ripa consented and half led, half carried him to the window. She brouglit a stone chair, and, seated ou this, the man looked out through z the slit. He saw three companies of spearsmen form into a long column, four men abreast, and swing off into the gallery that led toward the falls. In the centre of the line of march strode the Daughter of Light. At that distance, and in that light he could not read the fierceness of her face, but he saw her lift the axe from the girdle and swing it up in a gesture of savage exultation.

“She’s on the war trail, all right,” Brian muttered uneasily. Looks like bloodshed. I wish I knew what it was all about.” He knitted his brows. It couldn't be anything to do with the coming of Kitty and Rawiri. And yet—what else? He turned almost savagely on Ripa. ’Kiti/’ he queried, touching the cloak that bore the message, then pointing out through the window. Aie! Aie ! Ripa beamed her pleasure of his quick understanding. He must do something, but what. In his weak state what could he do? He glared out through the window slit, helpless, bitterly angry. The last file of the Woman’s forces marched into the tunnel, leaving the terrace deserted and silent. A woman plunged.- down the steps and ran madly in the opposite direction to that the troops had taken. Towards the Forges, he thought and wondered at her haste.

“Who's that?” he demanded of Ripa who peered over his shoulder out through the window. "Hira,” Ripa said briefly, trying to fathom the import of this swift race to the wrong passageway. The pair stared on silently’. Dim figures massed in the entrance of the Forgegallery, a spray of men flashed, in savage hurry, across the terrace after the Woman’s troops. “What's it all mean?” Brian cried helplessly, but Ripa could tell him nothing. On either side of the entrance to the River-gallery, the advance guard of these newcomers took station and waited. A close-set company followed * swiftly in their tracks. Other runners raced up the steps of the building from which they watched and disappeared within. Another company swung out from the Forges, and Brian's heart almost ceased io beat, then pounded like a trip hammer. At their head were Kitty and Rawiri and the girl Hira, whom folk called the Trouble Maker. Brian pushed as far through the window as he could, waving an arm weakly. “Kitty! Kitty!” he shouted and waved again. * The keen ears of Hira heard his call above the marching din, and she spoke. Rawiri looked up. “It’s a’ right, Prian,” the Maori shouted joyfully. One of his arms was still bound to his side, but the other held his pistol, and he waved this to Brian. “It’s a’ right, Prian. We soon have you upstairs in daylight, an’ all these peoples too.” “I’m coming right up, Brian,” Kitty promised. At a word from Rawiri two pikemen followed Kitty and Hira up the steps into the building. “My clothes,” Brian mumbled hastily. “Where are they?” But Ripa did not understand, and before he could stumble back into his own bedchamber Kitty and Hira had come, and he was in his sweetheart’s strong arms. “You poor boy,” she murmured, kissing him on the lips. “Oh! you poor boy.” He clung to her, too weak and too happy to speak. . “No talk Yet,” said Kitty, becoming swiftly practical. “You must dress and come down the terrace. Where are your clothes?” She turned to Ripa and spoke in swift Maori, for Professor Sherwin’s daughter had a sound knowledge of the language that was her father’s hobby. Almost before he realised it, Brian was dressed, had drunk a cup of broth that Ripa brought, and with one arm round Kitty's waist and the other round Hira’s, was walking shakily out of the door on to the terrace. “Why, Brian, you’re as weak as a kitten!” said Kitty pityingly. “You poor dear; you’ve had a terrible time. No! No talking yet. Save all your strength. Sit down here on the top step and wait. This Daughter of Light will soon find it's a false alarm and come back.” Kitty laughed softly. “She’ll come back and find us in possession. Hika, the old priest, wasn't killed after all. He’s in charge upstairs now, and when -the rest return from the river—well, you’ll see very soon.” She took his hand and held it. Hira had slipped off to the spot where Rawiri stood among the men guarding the river entrance to the terrace.

CHAPTER XV—DECISION. - They had no long time to wait. At the' run a half company of the Woman’s men burst out of the gallery. Instantly Rawiri’s men closed the narrow mouth, blocking the way for reinforcements. The newcomers turned bewildered. Thrice their number of prmed men pressed down towards them, pushing them back into the pit of boiling mud. “Will they kill them?” Brian asked. “There's been death and misery enough, Kitty.” “Not if they are sensible,” Kitty reassured. “We plan to deal with them in detail. They haven’t a chance, and I think they’ll s?e it.” Rawiri and his old guard stepped out. “Drop your spears,” the Maori ordered, “and no harm comes to any man.” “We seek no bloodshed,” the guard added to his old companions. “We go, all of us, to that land of Ra, whence this brown man and his fellow came. Come with us to this land of light and food. We mean no man any ill, I swear it.” Came a sound of conflict from the gallery. “Quick,” Rawiri ordered. “Throw- down your arms for your own good. If you will not save yourselves, we drive you to the pools.” “I don’t think they’ll fight,” Kitty said, coolly surveying the scene from the

(A New Zealand Author.)

distant steps, “I thought so; they’re throwing down their spears.” Uncertain, bewildered and leaderless the half company sullenly dropped their arms, and, at a command from Rawiri, marched over to the terrace steps in front of Kitty and Brian. ; “All will be well with you,” Kitty called cheerfully to them. “We plan this for your good.” Rawiri’s men bent back from the tunnel, and another half company broke through a gap that swiftly closed again, for a repetition of the first scene. Those who had first surrendered lost a little of their sullenness. They seemed to be in no urgent danger. They had been made fools of, yes; but many others walked the same path. “What a jest.” One of the disarmed men grunted, as the other half company disarmed, walked towards them. “There has been wise planning here, without a doubt.” “Of course there has,” called Kitty blithely, taking up the man’s words. “What should know it better than I, who schemed it out myself, all to bring stubborn folk like you to the Land of Brightness.” “VV hat a little head for such a big thought,” the man answered boldly. “I for one will follow you. If we stay here they’ll send us to the Forges for -n pack of fools.” • “ And quite right, too,” Kitty added amid a titter of laughter. “It will be much pleasanter to come with us. We start very soon.” A third and a fourth half-company shambled sheepishly to their disarmed fellows, endured their rude jests, and joined in the speculation as to the outcome of it all. The Daughter of Light, savagely angry that she had been tricked into a" foolish journeying, was with the next batch that broke through on to the terrace. Her men backed from her, pressed towards the pit between opposing lanes of men, but the woman remained defiantly still,' glaring from Rawiri to Hira, then at the piled spears and her distant, disarmed guards. “ What is the meaning of this madness ? ” she demanded menacingly. “ This woman,” she pointed to Hira, “ sent me to the river to rescue one who was far elsewhere. She shall suffer for her folly.” She drew the axe from her girdle, running forward. “Stop!” Rawiri called, his levelled pistol steady on her breast. “Another step and I will kill you. I mean it.” The cold certainty of Rawiri’s tone compelled unwilling belief. Baffled, the woman halted, checked, but still defiant. “ What does it mean ? ” she repeated hotlv.

“ Look on the terrace steps,” Rawiri advised with a grim smile. “ You will see the answer there, sitting with Periani. She has come to take him back to his own land, and with him all of your people who may desire to come."' The sparkle went out of the woman’s eyes; she looked almost piteously at Rawiri. “I cannot give up Periani,” she whispered, not knowing that she spoke. “ The priests, the people, they may all go if they will, but not Periani. He must stay here.” “If you want to see Periani again you will have to come too,” Rawiri stated emphatically. “ He comes with us most certainly.” The woman looked around her and realised to the full the complete hopelessness of her present position. “ Throw down your arms,” she called to her men. “ There is no usefulness in fighting.” “ That is truth,” Rawiri agreed. “ Now, as the rest come through, bid them disarm. Kiti would have none hurt. She desires that every man and every woman shall have free choice without bitterness; that they come whoso will to the brightness and happiness of the Land ot Ra, without the memory of blows and blood.” “ To the happiness of Ra ? ” the woman questioned bitterly. Hira pressed close to her lover. “Do not trust her one step,” the girl whispered. “She will pretend, but she will never forgive and always she will plot. Be aguard for her treacheries.” Rawiri nodded and gave an order to his men. The remnant of the woman’s troops came through, disarmed at her order, and with her, marched to their waiting comrades. Proudly, as became the daughter of many dauntless chiefs, she took station in advance, and, tightlipped, waited. A rabble of people came cluttering through to learn the meaning of these unusual happenings. They swarmed on to the terrace, and, packed close, herded along its outer edge. Rawiri and his men came up to form the third side of that great hollow square of underworld humanity. These lastcomers had their backs to the river gallery, their faces toward the expectant ranks of the disarmed guards. Kitty and Brian, seated on. the topmost step, were for the moment the only persons in the square’s fourth side, the target for many eyes. Finally, out of the doorway behind them came Rikatu and old Tuhi, who blinked with amaze and dismay at sight of the great hushed gathering. Two armed men walked beside the disarmed chief. “Come here, Rawiri,” Kitty called, when the scene had been set. “If I go astray with any words, pull me up and set me right. And oh! yes; I'd forgotten. Bring that little trouble-maker of yours beside you on the platform.” Then she stood, all levity swept away, and faced the people. Speaking slowly in vibrant tones, in rounded, beautiful Maori speech, she captured the interest

of her audience with her first classical phrase. “I have a story to tell you, people of Mauri, a story of the old. forgotten times and then a free choice for each and all,” she began clearly, so that those on the far fringe heard every word. “There was a land called Mauri-kaliiwa,* a great country, set in a laughing sea of blue, where the sun shone warmly from above. Where is Tuhi, the priest? Ah! yes. You have heard of Mauri-kahiwa, Tuhi?” “In our oldest tales, such was the name of the land whence our fathers came. But how knew you? None save the priests were—” “We have heard of its fame in the Land of Ba; its name is treasured among some of its scattered peoples,” Kitty continued evenly. “Those who dwelt in that ancient land, the Mauri, the sons of Maui, were a great folk, conquering other lands. But there came earthquakes and floods; the land was torn in twain and swept away. The people were scattered across the waters to other lands where their children’s children still live. His people”—she pointed to Rawiri—“were of such a clan.” “They perished,” Tuhi piped. “All save our fathers.” “There were others,” Kitty went on, not heeding the old man; “a stubborn folk, who would not flee from their old home; who, when the earthquake shattered and the great sea waves thrust In, stole under the ground, finding the secret of the Earth-fire and the light, and how to grow grain. There people,” she swept her arm around the assemblage, “lived on, if such a harsh and bitter existing can be called life, toiling, toiling, yet winning not enough, and many died of famine and disease. And the people were in an evil case, for the secrets that meant life or death for all, fell into the grip of the priests. Because these things meant power and easy living, without the need for toil, these priests made a mystery and a guarded secret of all that your fathers had found. Themselves living easily, as a reward for bitter toil, they gqve the people just enough to keep alive. Not always so much.” “It is true,” men muttered on every side, and on the verge of tho*terracc io old beldame of Brian’s first coming, took up the cry joybully. “It is true : it is trufe” she shrieked. “Send them to the Pools. ’

“Of course it is true,” Kitty resumed easily. “And because they feared to lose their easy life, they said the old tales were false; that your people had always lived here, that there was no other land anywhere.” “Beyond the light we have made is outer darkness and death,” Tuhi croaked. “There is nothing else. The worn' : '■eeks to bewitch you, to your doom.” “And how kindly has this great, good priest Tuhi dealt with you, this very long time,” Kitty challenged, in ringing tones. “Let any man speak that Tuhi has friended ,to whom any priest has done one little kindness.” “A lean, loose-limbed giant stepped from among joßawiri’s- men. “He drove me to the Forges because I murmured when he sent my mother out into the Darkness,” his deep voice boomed. . “And, for the same cause, me, and me, and me,” an hundred voices of the spearmen charged. From behind the Woman, one of the disarmed guards spoke. “My brother was driven to the Forges- by Tuhi and his priests. I do not see him among those who still live.”

“My father, and my father, and my wife, my sister,” the indictment swept from mouth to mouth among the Woman’s men, and was eaught up savagely by the people on the terrace rim. "They have not returned.”

“Enough, enough,” Kitty called loudly and the clamour died. “I ask for word of their mercy, and you tell of murders. Is there no man can speak of any deed of kindness?” “There is no such man —not one,” roared Hika’s men; and the words were caught up and roared forth of all the people below the steps, till they echoed in the unseen vault above their head with the sound of storm-harried surf upon an ancient cliff. “Can you stand it just a little longer, Brian dear?” Kitty bent and called when the shouting was at its height. Brian nodded his eyes worshipful. Rawiri had been translating. The shouting ceased, and in the silence that fell, the Woman, who had been watching Brian closely, walked swiftly across the emptiness of the square. She climbed the steps, and, speaking no word, sat beside Brian. Her arm slipped around behind his. shoulder, and, sighing with relief, the man leant back gratefully. Then, remembering, he looked up at Kitty in perplexed appeal. But Kitty was all understanding, and therefore, all compassion. “Be very nice to her, Brian boy,” she called in English. “You owe your life to her.” Kitty walked round until she stood directly in front of the Daughter of Light, and the two women searched, as it were, into each other’s soul. A silent multitude was around them, but for fleeting moments they two and one man, were the only people present. Eyes of blue and eyes of brown, the one all tenderness, the other very bitter, stared and spoke. Then Kitty, swept with pity and a wave of gratitude, bent down, and, placing h'er hands on the Woman’s upturned head, kissed her once and yet again in the centre of her broad forehead. Bewildered, for

’Dr Kaempfer, who was in Japan in 1694, gives the Japanese tradition of their origin: Their ancestors came, they said, from a lost Pacific land called Mauri-kahiya. . They brought the worship of the Sun-god Ama-te-Ra-nu. The Maori name for that deity was Tama-te-Ra-nui.

the first time in her life, utterly confounded, the Woman’s head dropped down upon her breast. A great breath, as the sound of rippling wind, burst from the people, who, reading its inner meaning, had watched the drama of the steps with breath-held tenseness. “You are wonderful, Kitty,” Brian cried huskily, resting unashamed against the Woman’s strong arm. Kitty faced the people, but, before she could speak, the armed men tossed up their spears in royal salutation. “Truly she is a goddess,” they chanted, and thc.r late opponents across the square, and the people on the verge of the terrace, took up the chant thunderously. Kitty raised a hand and silence came once more. “You have answered me very clearly,” she cried, resuming where she had been interrupted. “These priests have injured many, have sent many to their deaths, and have aided none save their own caste. They are men who tried to be gods—with cruelty.” “It was necessary,” Tuhi mumbled. “There was' not ”

“Aie! It was necessary,” Kitty caught up his words, “to keep your comfort, to hold your secrets amongst the few, giving power of life and death over many. Ami so, fearing to lose their power in a land where their secrets might have no value, they told you that all the old tales were false, that there was no land otherwhere than here.” “It is all lies,” shrieked the cronie across the terrace. “To the ” A man beside her struck her on the mouth, and she was silent. ' “Then Hika and others who had escaped sought far and near,” Kitty went on, clearly and calmly. “They came to the upper world by night, when Ra, the sun was asleep; and because of this, they did not know the place. My father, who knew this old tale of the Mauri, and I, and these two men were there. There was an altar of the old, old days, and upon it we saw Hika’s lanterns glow. The men searched, I remaining with my father who was ill. They followed Hika down through many passages to the river and there lost track. They swam, coming to this place and when they did not return, I followed. I was swept past with the flight of Hika’s men, some time agone, but have now returned, and go to my own land of brightness. We know the path, we' have devised a plan to cross the river,: and I would that all come with us. Without shedding of blood we have taken your town, and without blood shedding will we go. If you will follow with us, then shal we be very gad, but it is a free choice —there is to be no more priest-compul-sion. Make choice now —it is your own .matter. Whether to stay with Tuhi and his kind in this little circle of light amid engulfing darkness —or to take the step with me to the land of light and hope.” - There was murmcr from the crowd, but she stilled it. “There is yet a little to say,” she went on swiftly. “Tuhi and his kind, who have sent many to their death, say that we would betray you to your doom. Listen. - ’ She pointed to Brian, and her voice shook. “That sick man there I love, and because I love him I came for him. and now take him back. Would I lead him to his death? If this

land I tell of were all lies; would I take him to it or stay here, as I might to love and rule? Do I lie?” “No! No!” the whole throng shouted. Old Tuhi strove to speak but Rikatu’s fist, thrust in his face, made him choose silence. ’Then the Daughter of Light rose and stood before them all, her bosom hearing, her breath coming gustily. “I believe, that she tells,” the Woman said dully, without passion. “And I go with her and Periani.” (To be Continued).