Garden of Pakarae

Otago Witness, Issue 3862, 20 March 1928, Page 66

Garden of Pakarae

by

Michael Storm and Fergus Dunlop.

Zealand t Story )

(Copyright. —Eon the Otago Witness.)

SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—John Garden, of Pakarae, la talking to Charlie, his man-servant, about the rumours spread by Te Rangiawatea (a friendly Maori chief) concerning the rising of the Hauhaus under Kereopa, when Mr Manuel, a man of Spanish extraction, whose d<.ughter, Winnie, is in love with Garden, comes to the house for his mall.. Just then Wilson, the missionary, appears with the news that Mr Volkner, another missionary, has been killed by the Hauhaus, who are on their way to Poverty Bay ready to attack the settlement at Tauranga. (Another name for Kereopa’s tribe is the Night-marching Ureweras.) While they are talking there is a rattle of musketry, and they can see the Hauhaus in the Native village. CHAPTER ll.—Anne Caversham comes from England to live at Tauranga with her uncle, Colonel Caversham, officer in charge of the district. Ono day she is warned by Potaka, a Maori prophetess, to beware of Kereopa’s men, and to wait for a lover in the form of a splendid pakeha. CHAPTER 111. —Charlie and Wilson escape towards Tauranga with Mrs Wilson. Manuel disappears, and Garden, lying in ambush near the village, is suddenly joined by Winnie. CHAPTER IV.—At Tauranga, where Charlie gives the news, Anne is told of Garden, his horse Mark, and his reputation as a friend of Winnie, the half-caste. CHAPTER V. Winnie, crouching along the trench, came quickly towards him. “Oh, Mr Garden! Is it you? Oh, I have been so frightened! ’’ She rose erect, and made a quick movement towards him. (< “ I expect you have,” he said grimly, “But for goodness’ sake, keep down.” He sprang up to force her down, and as he did so, a dozen balls whistling about their ears, apprised them that the Hauhaus were still on the alert. “Good God, Winnie, are you hurt?” asked Garden anxiously.

“ No, Katene,” she answered, using the soft Maori variation of his name. “ I forgot the Ureweras. What are they doing now? ”

“ Most of them lurking over yonder watching for a company of the rangers that they think is in this paddock. They are bound to find out their mistake presently, but I don’t think they will move again till near daylight. Their courage must have cooled off a great deal in. the last hour or so.”

“ What do you think they will do, Katene? ”

“ Probably send parties to the upper and lower fords at the first streak of daylight, and try to cut us off while the liain bodv make for Tauranga. I don’t want to leave here until nearly daylight. I can easily outdistance them to Tauranga and let the colonel know what to expect. What in the name of goodness brought you here, Winnie?”

“I heard the firing and was frightened, Katene.”

“ If you were frightened, why didn’t you go with Charlie to the blockhouse. I saw you cross the river with him.” “ Your Charlie is splendid,” said "Winnie, her dark face lighting up with amused recollection. “He came charging over the river. The waves broke over him and bis horse as if he were a great big rock. Mrs Wilson and I ran out on to the veranda, as he pulled up beside the steps. * Get a move on wumman,’ he said to Mrs .Wilson. ‘ Climb up on the ’oss here. Them Hauhaus is coming, and you’ve got to ’ook it.’ _ ‘ Oh,’ she cried, * but Charlie, where’s Ivl j* Wilson ? Is he safe? ’ ‘ Your old man.’ says Charlie, ‘is across the river in the boss’s buggy. Don’t let’s have no talking, but give us your arrum and let’s lift you on the hoss.’ ‘But Charlie, my baby . . .’ ‘ All right,’ says Charlie, ‘ get your babby and hurry up.’ Old Maria, the cook, burst out wailing and keening. ‘Awe! Awe! Awe!’ she cried. ‘Eh Charlie! what will become of us?’ ‘ Nothing will become of you, you black old Elephant,’ says Charlie. ‘ All you Maoris had best take to the bush till your chief gets back. Do you think them Hauhaus will stop to kill you? They is after the white folk down at Tauranga. Do you think they’ll trouble aboyt fat black people like you? Taurekareka! ’ ‘Do you include me in that, Charlie? ’ said I. Eh ! Eh ! Miss Winnie, is that you ! ’ says Charlie. He had not seen me in the shadow of the veranda creepers. ‘ Boss says you’re to come along with me. Tilda’s hitched on the gate. 'Como right along. You look as fresh as Hoti Moka’s two-vear-old filly down in the bottom pasture? ” “ That was very polite, for Charlie.” said-Garden, smiling. “There is not very much polish, or repose in Charlie’s manners as a rule.”

“ Oh, Charlie is a dear. He meant to obey, orders. We could see that if we didn’t hurry he would tuck us one under each arm, and carry u 3 off by main force. I jumped on Tilda, and hie swung Mrs Wilson and her boy on to his knee, and plunged into the river. “It must have been deep, this tide,” said Garden.

' Yes right tin to the horses’ withers. Charlie kept Mrs Wilson on his left, because the Maoris were firing from the right, and so the waves broke all over her and her boy. There was a lot of surge and swell coming in from the bar.” “ You must have got very wet. 100, Winnie.” ® j » »

“ Yes. I will soon dry. Lucky I happened to be in riding kit. Mrs Wilson wasn t. Tilda was swept off her feet, and had to swim, so I lay down in the water and hung on to her mane and let her tow me across. I didn’t like the bullets plopping about. It felt safer right in the water.”

“Did any come near you?” asked Garden.

“ No, Katene ; there were only a few, and not very near us. But they'made an awful s p]ash.”

“ But how did you come here? ” “Oh I asked Charlie where you and daddy were, and he said you had gone down to the river, so I knew it was you that made the pukeko call. What a ridiculous idea, that wag, Mr Garden. I knew no one but you could have thought of anything so absurd.” “Why, where were you? “ When the Maoris fired the first volley I ran across to Mrs Wilson’s, and w e were all standing on the veranda peering up the river and trying to see what was happening. Then the pukeko’s started calling. It sounded so weird, coming across the water and getting louder every time. Old Maria’s hair stood on end with fright. Mrs Wilson and I were quite frightened, too. But when Charlie said you were down at the river we knew it could be no one else but you, and I remembered the stop bank on* the point. I felt sure I should find you here. Where is dad? ”

“ I don’t know. He went off on his own. How ’ did you get away from Charlie? ” J

Oh! Charlie put Mrs Wilson and the boy in the buggy, and made us all hurry off at a canter along the beach. He said we had only just time to get past them rocks on the tide. I said I wanted to go to dad. But he said he was to take me to Tauranga. He came pounding after me, but, of course, Punch was as slow as a funeral. I could hear him growling and swearing at the Wilsons—l could not tell which—and they all went on to Tauranga. He was going to warn Mr Leming on the way in and take him and his family with him, and Mr Cornwall’s people from Cornwall’s creek.”

“ Winnie chatted on, and Garden, watching her in the moonlight, thought how well the regular Spanish features blended with the brown skin, blue black hair, and slow sonorous speech of her Maori ancestry. She was certainly a wonderful girl, he thought. “ Oh, Katene, I have been so frightened,” she murmured, brushing a tired hand across her forehead and snuggling up against him. “ Well, Winnie, I must say you don’t sho.. any outward sign of fear. For a girl who has just escaped from massacre, swam a river under fire, and stood up to be shot at, at point blank range by a dozen Maoris, you seem to me pretty cool.”

. “ I am not afraid of anything when I am with you, Katene,” said Winnie. “I believe it. Nor with anyone else, either! Winnie, you ought to be with your father or on the road to Tauranga—in fact, both.

“ Don’t try to send me away, Katene, for I would not go.”

” Well no. I couldn’t do that. Not now. It would not be safe, for one thing. You had better wait till I go, and come to Tauranga with me. While you are here, Winnie, make yourself useful. Keep a watch on the canoe-landing, and the upper reach of the river. I will watch the pa and the track, and the beach crossing.” “ Do you think that Kereopa will do anything to-night, Katene? Where do vou think his people are? ” “ Hiding in whares and behind them, and behind fences, and watching for us, I should think. Kereopa himself must b e in the meeting house. He may have sent bands of braves round the back of the hills to th e fords. If not. he will probably send scouts forward to explore the ground to-morrow.”

But, Mr Garden, might not he send his scouts to night? They might swim the river higher up. and creep on you just as quietly as I did.” “ If thev did that, Winnie, they would have no fire arms. No man could swim the river with a rifle and keep it dry, and we can see all the canoes in the river.” But, Katene, the taiaha, and the tomahawk. What if a warrior crept up and brained vou before mv eves ? ”

He would probably brain you first, Winnie,” laughed Garden. “ Keep a careful watch, and we will probably see him first. As I have two rifles loaded and ready at hand, the odds are at least in my favour.”

As thev chatted, the time passed slowly. Winnie and Garden, lying on the mound peering over its crest,* and speaking only in whispers, had unconsciously, (at least so far as Garden was concerned) drawn very near to on P another. His arm wa s - around her shoulders Her arm resnonded and their cheeks almost touched. Her hair brushed his forehead.

“ How clever you are at imitating neop’e. Katene.” s he said. “ Your shout to ‘ Cease Fire ’ sounded just like the | Colonel.”

“ My mother was an actress, you know, Winnie. Perhaps I have inherited a little of the instinct.” “ Was she famous ? ”

*‘ Yes very.” Winnie’s heart throbbed. Never before had sh e heard this silent man whom with all her romantic, half Spanish, half barbaric little heart she worshipped, speak at all of his past. “ Is she still on the stage? ” _ “No Winnie. She is dead. Famous as she was, she and my father were all in all to each other, and when he died, she died too. They had run away together when they were almost children, and my grandfather cut my father off’with a shilling for marrying an actress.” “ When did your father die. Katene? ” “ At Inkerman,” said Garden. “ War correspondent.” Winnie was silent for a few minutes, she was reflecting on the story of Garden’s mother, and trying to visualise her. “ What was Inkerman, Mr. Garden? ” “ A great battle, Winnie, in the Crimea, against the Russians, about fifteen years ago It was nearly at the same time as the charge of tb e Light Brigade.” “ Oh yes, I have heard all about that. But Inkerman I did not remember. You know at school in Sydney they could never make me learn anything except about music. I had to learn English first before I. began to learn the things that the older girls learnt, and that was hard.”

“ You never needed to learn anything about music, Winnie, for that was born in you.”

Indeed, Garden was right. Like many half-castes, her temperament, combining much of the Latin fire of her Spanish extraction with the romance and poetry natural to the Maori, expressed itself in music. The trader had, at infinite labour, imported for her a piano, which stood in solitary grandeur in the living room of the store otherwise empty save for a deal table and some half dozen benches. Though she sang well, it was on the violin that she found her best mode of expression. Perhaps the word “ expression ” is scarcely the phrase to use, for Winnie’s music, like that of many of her type in our times, was quite unoriginal. Perfect in technique, and by imparting a somewhat dreamy lilt into her playing, she seemed to reduce the mightiest and the most trifling works of the masters to a single level of expressionless tunefulness, weet to the ear and sense, but utterly unintellectual. Her only audience consisted of (iirden and her father. At times she played hymn tunes for the Wilsons, or polkas for the children or for Cha. lie the general standard of whose musical appreciation was very typical of that of the district.

Winnie nestled closer towards Garden “ Katene/’’ she whispered. “ I love you.”

Garden tightened his arms around her shoulders in a light friendly pressure. “ I am very fond of you, too, Winnie 1 think that you are one of the jolliest little friends that I have in the world.” “ But I don’t mean that, Katene. I don’t mean like that. I think I love you as your mother loved your father. If you died I. would die. I could not liv a without vou. I love you too much.” , Garden glanced at the girl, whose warm ciear profile so close to his seemed, >n the moonlight, in its Spanish beauty to shine as with a halo of soft light like the image of a saint. He did not love this woman, a woman of alien flood, of alien instincts to his own, but she was brave and beautiful and sweet. Be smiled.

‘‘Come, Minnie dear, wake up. You are talking in your sleep. Be a sensible girl.”

He gave her a little humorous shake as though to wake her, but Winnie ‘urned towards him a grave, earnest face, her great brown eyes full of yearning.

“ Don’t laugh at me. Katene. I am not- laughing. I am not asleep. T sav what I mean as best I can.” She raised I'.er lips to his.

‘‘Kiss me, Katene.” Katene did so. Great silence fell upon Winnie and Katene, end hour by hour the lons shadowsof the night in endless race flitted dimly by', and suddenly upon the ear of the watchers fell the beat and fall of galloping hoofs beating on soft turf. Voices could be heard in the pa. and here and there dim figures crept out from concealment awaiting the comi >g rider. The horseman came in view at the end of the village, checked his horse and tiotted slowly to the centre of the warae or square, where beside the fire, clear m outline against fire and noon light, he reined his horse to a standsti'l. Garden’s muscles stiffened. Who could the newcomer be, if not the infamous Kereopa, whom he had never seen. “ Kereopa! ” he whispered, and left hand along the barrel of the rifle, sought the line of the rider’s heart, whilst right hand fumbled at the trigger. But Winnie’s eyes saw clearer, the lines of th? figure in the dimness were too fami.iar a cry—a desperate reach with cut stretched arm, and the rifle, muz'le heavenward, exploded in the air. “ My father,” panted Winnie. As though John Garden’s shot had unlocked and thrown open on the instant the doors of pandemonium, the village and the sprang to shouting and gesticmating life. Manuel, for it was he, sprang from h;s horse and disappeared into the darkness of the great meeting house. _ A band of mounted natives, springing out from the shadows of thickets and trees behind the pa, galloped into the village square and with some shouted orders and parley’ with the assembling natives on foot, charged along the track towards the bluff, and the river mouth. Other riders could be seen skeltering up the river, and from places of concealment women and packhorses, mingled with Hauhau warriors, filled the square.

( “ Our bluff i s called,” exclaimed Garden. Run for the horses.”

Scrambling along the shelter of the trench under the shelter of a line of trees, across the flat, they reached the stables and mounted. On the beach some 20 natives, cressing the ford, were approaching at a gallop. ‘‘ The Waimata track, Winnie,” exclaimed Garden, and on the word the two thoroughbreds, heads turned up the clear, clay waggon track through the scrub, sprang into their stride, the mare, ears pricked, mane streaming, and nostrils extended seemed in her light-bounding gallop scarcely to touch the earth, whilst Mark, head carried low and leaning slightly on the bit, swung along in the powerful long-striding, tireless gallop of his steeplechasing breed. The three or four miles of level ground had spun away behind them almost before the riders had settled to their seats, and they were breasting the rising hill that marked the entrance to the forest track. For a moment they drew rein, and looking back saw their pursuers far behind, their horses pumped, still following at a slow pace. Beyond, against the glimmerings of dawn that now began to gild the ocean horizon to the east, was _ a cutter under full sail, her stern towards the land, her prow set towards the coming sunrise. “ Gracious, there’s father’s cutter, the Turnagain,” exclaimed Winnie. “ She’s not due from Sydney for a week, and she’s going out! ” ‘‘Can’t stop to look at her now, Winnie!” answered Garden. They’ll probably try to cut us off by a party from the upper ford, when the crossing track comes in. It’s a good eight miles. Let the mare have her head.”

Like a flash of light the chestnut mare flew through the forest track, Winnie, low on her neck, dodging easily and gracefully’ the swinging vines, and low hanging branches overhead, the big black horse pounded and thundered behind. Down steep tree-covered rootnetted declivities the horses plunged and slid, up sharp rocky ascents they laboured, along boulder-strewn creekbottoms and down long smooth leafy rides, across log-strewn clearings, and along long beetling ridges, with never an instant’s check, never a moment lost, they galloped on. Over their heads the rata blazed, and the clematis flung its long scented streamers on the morning air. The clear light of a summer dawn crept slowly through the glades, and as the bellbirds wakened to their morning song, the forest to left and right filled with the tinkling, now far, now near, of myriad tiny silver bells. The horses strained and panted. Sweat dripped from heaving flanks. Tlie air grew warmer. The music of the bellbird ceased. The more strident noises of the day light arose, the tui’s louder call, the harsher screech of the cuckoo. The land breeze rose and high above them on the ridges the crests of the tall timber trees sway’ed to the sky. It was high day and hot. The throats of the riders parched their lips grew dry and cracked, the whistling breeze burnt the skin. At length Garden called a halt. ‘‘Whew, Winnie, that was a scorcher! We've left the branch track about three or four miles behind. There’s not a Urewera night-riding or d&y-riding. will even see the heels of the hbr&r. to-day.” “ Oh, Katene ! ” exclaimed Winnie, her cheeks through the brown glowing with excitement, her dark eyes sparkling. “ Oh. Katene ! what a ride! And what a mare! She’s made of steel and fire.”

“ Winnie, I give you that mare for this night’s work. Such a rider deserves her. Do you realise that we saved the settlement. Even if Charlie is not there yet with the warning, we will get in now in ample time to warn the settlers against surprise. Com e let’s get on.” They checked for a few minutes at a fern shaded rocky spring, bathed hot faces and hands, and rode on in the gladness of high morning. Their mood was gay, for' they were young and life was fresh and sweet, and in their hearts was triumph. Tn merry comradeship they chatted and laughed away the miles, and Winnie, as she rode, twined vine and clematis about her hair, and in her horse’s mane, and roused the sleeping echoes of the crags in happy snatches of song. For in her simple heart there was nought but happiness and content. She loved Garden, and he was beside her. To her it was enough. The slight restraint and distance with which he always treated her. his good-humoured disregard of her passion for him, which might have chilled a girl of other ancestry ' perturbed her not at all. To have him by her, to be with him was all she asked, and her cup of joy was full. And Garden, too, in the gladness of his triumphant night work, his sense of fun tickled by the ruse played on the rebels, the wells of merriment in his kindiv heart opened by Winnie’s gaiety, let slip his cares and worries and rode beside her as gaily as a boy.

So they entered the settlement. From the high ridge from which the little township first came into sight, they could see from the bustle, the line of horses tethered on the court house rails, the sentries at the look-out that the news was known, and the little body of militia gathering in. As clear in outline on the skyline they rode slowly down the ridge, all eyes in th e settlement followed them. At the foot of the ridge, Winnie drew rein, and turning grave eyes on Garden said, “ Katene. Do you love me? ” Garden looked at her steadily, and for the first time a look of pain showed on his handsome face. / “ God forgive me Winnie dear, I don’t. Not in that way.” They rode into the town side by side, motionless, silent. CHAPTER VI. The rays of the early morning sun gilded the chalk white summits of Nick’s bead with an amber and rosy film. They glinted across on to the forest-clad heights which formed a sombre enough

background to the settlement. Tlicy painted the red roofs of quaint white homesteads far away along the valley flats. They lit up the dingy, chocolatecoloured courthouse standing foursquare to the sea, loopholed and sandbagged as for siege times. The muddy grey of the river mouth even assumed a lighter tings as the sun struck it. Tin-roofed store and drab wooden hotel alike awoke from the dark of night and had put on their yet sober garments of day. Those flaming rays struck straight into the exquisite eyes of Ann e as she stood on the topmost step of the court-house and gazed away over the plain. Fathomless depths of deep sunk sapphir e pools, among lone forests they were. You might look at Anne but you saw her eyes. Those eyes were searching the distant landscape for any figures which might appear- on the horizon unperceived. She had left the missionary’s wife to at. tend to her child, being weary of the aim. less chatter of the worthy but garrulous little woman. She wished for peace in which to collect her thoughts in face of the approaching danger. She did not really feel any fear, but only a sort of wonder that such danger should in fact be approaching her. Only a short time ago, she had been a petted child of an English country home, with its security, its comforts and its charm. Now she was face to face with possible death, in a most hideous form, should that brave handful of men w-ho stood between her and it fail to ward off such a calamity. One of those men was approaching her now, her uncle, and close behind him the young captain from whos a jovial countenance the habitual smile had almost vanished. Any sign showing up yet, Anne?” said the Colonel.

“ Nothing so far, dear.” was the reply. “ Surely you don’t expect to see the rebels as soon as this? ”

Well, the chances are they would not ife here so soon as this, but I was hoping to see John Garden riding down the track? He s a very useful man to have about at a time like this. I only hope he’s escaped from the Hauhaus. After what Charlie tells us I should think it will be pretty well touch and go with him. And what’s more it seems that Miss Winnie Manuel went riding after him and nothing that Charlie could say or do would stop her. Certainly she shouldn’t be in much danger from them being a half-caste, but then you never know with the beggars. She’s in love with him. of course and vou can’t wonder much either?’ “ v >mcle,” aueried Anne. “ Well yon know child that when you get a combination of good looks and a certain amount of mystery, or at any rate reticence in a man. combined with a certain indifference to the fair sex, they are bound to go under. Garden has never, in the history of the settlement, been known to notice any woman but the fair Winnie, who is certainly very lovely in her own way They are of course, near neighbours, and have been thrown a good deal together with, I suppose, the inevitable result.

“ I’ ook ,'. uncle aren ’ 1 those two riders in tlie far distance? ”

lhe Colonel put un his glasses and scanned the distant plain. “ There they are. there they are.” he shouted excidedly. ‘‘ Garden and Wi-nie. They re coming down the track from Pakarae. Splended! Splendid! Look. Clark! ” And he handed Clark the field grasses, growing red from excitement. Thev watched the black figures growing steadily nearer. Soon they grew percept tible and then distinct as they sped .on, flashing erect through the greenwood. Anne leaned her head against the pillar of the doorway and saw them coming. Look, uncle, he rides magnificently, look at him.” she said. “ Isn't it a pity if he's a rotter as some people say? ” “ Yes, but by Jove, Anne, he’s nut in some good work now. remember. I don’t care a curse what he’s been doing as long as he’s a credit to our side. Any other man in the same place, and Mr Wilson would have been gone, hi? family also, and we should all of us probably have been surnrised and cut un bv Hauhaus. Think of that, Anne.” The colonel turned to his young niece with a sideways glance of his penetrating eyes, pulling his bristly little moustache as he spoke, and wrinkling up his round, red face into a network of puckers. “ We shan’t have time, vou know, to he discussing what a man does in his off time, so long as he can do his job. Brave and efficient, that’s what he’s got to be here, eh, Clark? Self reliance, that's what we want in this colony. Self reliance! ” And patting the back of the smiling Claik, tbe Colonel nut up ins field glasses again to watch the figures apnroaching. They were pounding steadily nearer. Garden sitting erect in his saddle, and like a graven statue, turning his face neither to the right band nor the left, regarding neither the landscape nor yet Winnie, uttering not a word nor a ound. Winnie’s dark eyes flashed to the settlement ahead, her full scarlet lips tightened. the pale coffee cheeks took on a yet darker tinge. Did she divine at that moment that at the fort a pair if unfathomable eyes, brighter than her own, were scanning her advance, and that the colony was discussing in differing ways their approach. Anne, indeed, was watching the approaching pair with a coldness she was far from feeling. To see this man, so famed for his recklessness, his impertinent skill at poker and imperturbability in tbe face of great losses, his amorous escapades with the beautiful and inflaming half-caste girl, bis daredevil deeds on horseback, and lastly, his latestfeat of arms in defending single-handed against a horde of savage, yelling Hauhan warriors the ford at Pakarae; to see this man forced Anne to thrill in spite of herself.

Clot clot,, clot -clot, rftng the horses hoofs. Up to the settlement they came,

up to the courthouse, foam-flecked. There he sat like a statue carved out of pale brown stone, clear-cut, beautiful and immobile. Great brown eyes shone like lamps of dark amber in this still Countenance, and the profile was beautiful as that of an American Indian. Presently, amid cries of greeting from the assembled settlers who, one and all, were awaiting his arrival, he leaped from the eaddle, and turned for the first time to the girl who accompanied him. Come, Winnie,” he said, and the watching Anne could not fail to see the glow that came to the gypsy-brown face of the girl as he spoke, and she gazed at him with eyes of sad admiration as she dismounted.

“ Miss Manuel helped me at the ford, Colonel,” he said shortly. “ Great night’s work we’ve had too. The Hauhaus gave us the very devil of a life; you won’t see anything of them for a time, though, here, •they 11 want a little time to consolidate their position ; I reckon they’ll stay at the mission station for a time and then march forward to u s in a day or so. “ We’ll do, Colonel, now, we’ll do.” ’ , Splendid fellow, splendid fellow, old cnap,” said the Colonel wringing his hand. Bnng Miss Manuel along and we’ll see ri w e can raise some hot coffee for the pair of you and a shakedown in the blockhouse for Miss Manuel. Anne, my dear, see what you can fix up and take Miss Manuel and look after her.” She raised her splendid, defiant eyes as she spoke to the young rider, already commencing to attend to his horse’s welfare: Garden looked at her for a moment. Lovely, but cold as ice.” thought he and dismissed the matter from his mind. He had other things to think of, the providing for Mark, his dearly beloved, and t ie preparation of the tiny garrison for the siege which was tn follow. There were as he knew,, but twenty settlers and their families in th e valley, of which s ome thirty menfolk could be mustered all told tor that defence of the blockhouse which would shortly take place. He realised that the carrying out of the practical details of the siege would naturally fall upon him, a ®. th i e - J €olo ?4 although he had done splendid work in past Crimean campaigns and in the Indian Mutiny, was getting somewhat old and lacking in energy “ Where’s my old salt? ” he jerked out lather rapidly to Anne, as she had unconsciously lingered for a second beside , eyes takin S in the splendid points an ? noting'the glossy coat that almost bespoke the care of a woman rather than a man.

‘‘ Where' s my old salt?” he repeated, Charlie I mean. Not gone on the spree him ! ® ai?Cly ’ or gon ° t 0 slee P• I want

Garden in spite of many rumours to the contrary had not enjoyed the society of women for many a long day and suavity of manner had long since vanished from n»s speech. Anne stared at him for a second. Then she spoke also.

c •.¥ yo ? mean b , v - yOur old salt > Charlie bnith, who came her e yesterday with the warning, I think you a r e most likely to mid him across the road, not at’ the courthouse nor yet at the store. He came m yesterday like a red-headed Viking, but 1 think he possesses others of their characteristics. Look there he is.” Garden turned at her words and beheld the glorious condition of Charlie as did at the same time Miss Caversham. Charlie m a nd;^ PPy > Ce . rtainl -V lle had performed piodigies of valour and heroism on the previous day,, but now he exhibited prodigious capacity for liquid refreshment. was S* orious l v happy P a rdAn ld A on TL’ ’ Charlie >’'’ interposed * *i An Al had cast one gl anc e of disgust on the hilarious Charlie and had fled trom the scene.

Hold on, Charlie, we’ve too much ahead of us for this. Pull yourself to°nce and sto P that nonsense. Go light down to the pump and don’t come back until you re through with this.” .nnn i y t Charl ’ e ’ s sturdy frame was n able to shake off the liquor he had taken, and he very shortly shook his 6 haggy mane and stood up a reasonable citizen once more.

Anne, meanwhile, had retired to the courthouse kitchen to prepare hot refies.iment for the two riders, and make up a temporary bed for the Spanish girl Her brain was seething with conflicting ideas. Hie wulds of this unknown country attracted her strangely; beautiful indeed she thought them, full of a strange mystery and charm. The excitement and novelty of the very certain danger thrilled her venturesome spirit through and through, but this crude and drunken ruffianism as she termed it, revolted it and spoiled a certain element of romance. She could not excuse that for the sake of the chivalrous bravery that lay behind it, and the idea of fiaternisinpr with the half-caste was very bitter to her. However, she stifled her revulsion and set to her task with alacrity n not with pleasure.

Another thought was weaving itself into the fabric of dislike, the warn was weaving itself across the woof. She thought of th e Chinese Hairy of the Moon who bound together the feet of lovers with an invisible red cord, which no mishap could sever. Anne was conscious of a curious tingling of expectancy in connection with that dai-k rider, a sensation which defied description—dislike if you will, but something that hustled and surged in her subconscious self. Aroused it may have been bv the pronhecv of Potaka. The figure of that immobile rider, and that of the fieryold veteran, scarlet neckerchief floating wildly in the breeze, danced before her eyes as she turned in at the principal door nf the courthouse and threaded her way through rooms and a couple of passages to the cookhouse at the back. There she set a pot of coffee to boil on the clumsy range, fired with wood brought from the back of the township. Then she returned to look for Winnie.

Winnie stood leaning against th e post pf the dingy brown door, her clothes torn

and draggled and a weary look at last overspreading her beautiful face. Winnie was pale under her coffee skin. The black eyes looked dull and sunkeif for the moment. Anne became aware of a feeling of compassion as sh e saw her. “ Won’t you come in and rest a little, Miss Manuel ? ” she said. “ There i 3 a couch you could have in one of the side rooms, and we shall be fixing up rooms for everyone in here shortly, or rather shakedowns. look so tired and you must have had a very trying time. Do come in.” ‘‘ Oh, thank you, I do feel rather tired,” said Winnie gratefully, glancing quickly at the gay and candid face of Anne and taking thoroughly feminin e stock of her. She was filled with a feeling of admiration for the lovely girl she saw. So few had she ever seen in her lonely and secluded life and surely never one like this. Anne led her into on e of the offices, scantily appointed with a desk, a couple of rough chairs and a sofa. Perhaps you could lie here for a while, ’ she said, “ And I will get ope of the boys to ride over to my place, we have the place nearest here, you know, and the house is only the matter of a few minutes ride out—and get some pillows and other things I want. We shall need all we can get for the children to-night. Then I will bring you some breakfast and you will feel more refreshed.”

“ You are very kind; Miss Caversham,” said Winnie as Anne left the room in search of a messenger. She lay on the sofa with her arms clasped above her head and for a few moments lost herself in reverie: . The thought of her wonderful ride with Garden floated ever before her mind but the vision was saddened for the poor girl by the memory of his stern face as he said the words :

N .°> Go<] forgive me, I don’t love you Vvinnie, not in that way.” (To be continued.)