Garden of Pakarae

Otago Witness, Issue 3870, 15 May 1928, Page 62

Garden of Pakarae

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By

M ichael storm and Fergus Dunlop

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.)

CHAPTER XXI. It was a cold winter morning. A keen south-west wind swept down from the hills and along the beach, broken into gusts and miniature whirlwinds by the valleys and gullies, whipped up the dry sands in stinging clouds, and whipped white flakes from the foaming crests of the breakers. The Turnagain, riding at anchor off the river mouth, swung to her moorings, veering now this way and now that as the gusts struck her hull and rigging. Down the beaches and along the cuttings at the headlands strings of mounted Maoris might be seen riding in parties of threes and fours towards Tauranga to the race meeting. The match between Mark and Ngatiporo was to be run on the morrow, and from every part of the country the tribes were assembling. At Tauranga the settlers had taken the opportunity to inaugurate a racing club, and to hold a hack meeting. The event was an important one, and the excitement intense.

Manuel stood at the river mouth in talk with the skipper of the Turnagain, a black, bearded man in rough, tarry clothing, and with a countenance that spoke eloquently of evil and dissipation, and of vice. The cutter’s surf boat, with four Kanakas at the oars, waited for him in the still water within the bar. The beach above high water mark was still strewn thick with the wreckage of the Star of Evening, and the dried or rotting carcasses- of sheep. “ Well, skipper, you understand your orders ? ” said Manuel.

“ Aye, boss. It was a lucky stroke for you, the loss of the Star. Her skipper must be a fool. I heerd he’s lost his ticket at the enquiry over the job. She was to have taken these here stores to them prisoners at the Chathams, wasn’t she? ” “ Yes,” said Manuel, “ But after her loss I had no difficulty in procuring from the Minister the contract for the Turnagain. I have been of some service to him. You have got the rifles safely stowed on board? ”

“ Yes, boss. They’re under the decking at the bottom of the hold, and the hold on top of them is filled to the hatches with stores.”

“ Yes. Well, here’s a letter to Te Kooti. Now' you understand w’hat you are to do. When Te Kooti and the prisoners seize the Turnagain, you must make some show' of resistance, but not too much. Let them take the cutter. They will not hurt you. They’ll leave you behind on the island with plenty of stores, and I’ll send the Farewell for you as soon as the trouble is over.”

“ It’s a dangerous job, boss. It’s a hanging matter.” “ Well, you’re well paid, and remember I can hang you at any time by opening my mouth over that other little transaction of yours that we know of. Don’t forget yourself, skipper.” “ What’s your idea, boss, in bothering about these Maoris ? ”

“ You’re not paid to ask questions, skipper.” “ But it’s giving them the rifles I don’t like, boss. What’ll the beggars do with them ? ”

“ Nothing. Don’t you worry about that. The tribes up country are in a state of unrest, and if these unfortunate prisoners w’ent home unarmed, they’d run the risk of being massacred over some land disputes arising out of the confiscation. They won’t do any mischief with them. They need them for self defence.”

“ They can all shoot themselves and one another for what I care, boss, but I’d be a bit afeard of their murdering the settlers. That’d be too hot for me. I wouldn’t like to have a hand in it.”

“ Don’t you W'orry, skipper,” returned Manuel. “ Note’ get off to your ship.” He turned to go, but returned. “By the w'ay, that Pakarae wool, the 100 bales branded P.K. —G., you’ve got them safe as I told you? ” “ Yes, safe enough, boss. It’s in the same place as the rifles was hidden.” “ Good,” said Manuel, and turned back over the beach to the store.

“Well, Winnie,” said Manuel, “are you nearly ready? The horses are harnessed and the buggy’s waiting.” Winnie was rather sulky this morning. She had been forbidden by her father to go on to Tauranga earlier in the week with Garden and the horses, and had not recovered from her disappointment. She came out of the store, clambered into the buggy, reined the horses round to clear the wheels from the step for her father to mount beside her.

“ I wish you had let me ride, dad,” she said as the horses trotted smartly off down the beach. “ I hate driving.” “Well, Winnie, Katene needs Tilda to ride himself while Mark is in training. And I don’t like your being too much amongst the whites at Tauranga, Winnie. They are no good to you.”

Katene will be all the time with that white girl, that Anne,” said Winnie viciously. “ I hate her.” Don t worry about her, Winnie,” said Manuel. “ She won’t think Katene worth picking up by the time I have finished with him.”

they spoke in the Maori language, which Manuel invariably used with his daughter. Winnie looked at her father with a dawning suspicion in her brown eyes. She had never heard him speak like that of Katene, and it frightened her. though she loved Manuel faithfully and loyally, she was extremely afraid of him, and regarded him as a grim Nemesis whose lightest wishes would find inevitable fulfilment to the last letter, that he might have some schemes detrimental to Garden appalled her. Why, daddy, you wouldn’t do anyto hurt Katene! ” she exclaimed, iou know, Winnie, that it is my dearest wish to win Katene for vou for a husband. I want him as a son to carry on my work when I am old. But, Winnie, to win him we must get him away from English ideas, and English people.”

es, I know that, dad. I am always trying to,” said Winnie. “Winnie, the English think a great deal of money and what they call position. In fact, it is everything to them. They are not like us and our people in that way, Winnie.” les, dad. I saw that when I was at school at Sydney. At first the girls were very unkind, to me, but when they found out I had a rich father in New Zealand they couldn’t do enough for me.”

“Yes, that is so, Winnie. While Katene has wealth and position the white men will lure him away from us. But if he were what they called ruined he would be content with us. He wmuld be a great power in our tribes, Winnie, if he set his mind to it. He would be a great chief, and king of all this country.” “ Yes, dq.d.”

Now, if you hope for Katene and his love, Winnie, you must never breathe a word of what I am going to tell you, and you must help me. You know that Katene’s land has been taken by the Government.”

Yes, dad, but it is only a mistake. He will get it back soon.”* “Not until I give the word, Winnie. I have communicated your mother’s ancestral claims in that land to the Minister, and given the authorities the impi ession that there was something amiss with his purchase from the Natives. They will not return his title until the matter is fully inquired into. I can delay the matter indefinitely, and perhaps, if it went so far, get a* great part of the land awarded to you in right of your mother.”

“ I wouldn’t take it, dad.” “ Yes, you would, Winnie, if it brought you Katene. Then, you see, I have got control, of Katene’s wool, and I may make it very difficult for him to recover it.”

“Oh dad. You are taking everything from him.”

now there is this horse race, Winnie. If Katene wins he will be able to get over his difficulties, but if ho loses he will have to mortgage his sheep to me to find the money. He mustn’t win, Winnie.”

dad! He is sure to - Think of Mark.”

“ It is Mark I am thinking of, Winnie You must stop him.” Manuel produced from his pocket a small syringe.

See, Winnie. An injection of this drug, into the horse’s flank muscles will do him no permanent harm, but it will certainly stop him from winning You must manage that.” °

“ Oh, dad,” said Winnie, “ I couldn’t.” “Think it over, Winnie.” “ Dad, you are going to give everything back to Katene?” .“ Yes, Winnie. If he marries vou he will have everything of hi s res'tored, and w-ill have everything of mine as w’ell sometime.”

Winnie drove on silently. Before her mind was a vision of Garden’s home in Pakarae, and herself its happy mistress; of Garden and her father united in friendship and in business, a union of the Jove and the Apollo of her little cosmos. She felt sorry to inflict loss on Katene. He would be disappointed—but he would take it with the same smiling imperturbability with which he faced all dangers and disasters. He would not really feel grief. He was incapable of feeling grief—grief such as she felt when he was cold and unkind to her. And it meant that he w’ould be really hers. What a wonderful man dad was! So kind and so clever! She took the little instrument and put it in the pocket of her riding coat.

“ Dad,” she said presently. “Do you know, the night the Star was wrecked I looked out in the evening and I thought I saw the beacon burning on the wrong place on the hill, right inland. And when I was running down to the beach afterwards the light went out for a minute. When it shone again it was in the right place. I thought the witches of the hill were playing round it. I was frightened. Is it true about witches ? ” Manuel started, and looked at her with a momentary flicker of fear in his dark eyes. “Did you tell Katene that?” he demanded.

.“ N°- He always laughs at me about witches. But are there really witches ? ” I don t know,” said Manuel, his inscrutable expression returning. “Don’t say anything about it to Katene.” “No, father,” answered Winnie dutifully.

afternoon of the following day saw the final preparations for the great event. A track had been laid in a large field some six or eight miles from the settlement, and a steeplechase course, a rou«h cucle of about two miles, arranged with heavy fences and the traditional sod r/Vi. a ” d water jump. In the centre o the field a marquee had been erected, a ? d . J'° ou t it the crowd circled and eddied, two or three hack races had been 1 run off in the morning, and the spectators, consisting of Maoris in all costumes, from mats to ancient frock coats, with a full muster of the settlers of the district, for the most part in their work-a-day attire was at an intense pitch of excitement. A few visitors from the towns had braved the three day steamer Uip LO See the match, and at least a dozen bookiec ” did a roaring trade pith the Natives, who were prepared to back the Native horse without limit. Odds were at evens.

Garden had weighed in, and with his saddle over his arm, was chatting with the colonel’s party, whilst Winnie, a short distance away, held Mark by the bridle, a privilege smilingly acceded to by Garden in response to her excited urgency. The horse, in excellent condition considering the short period of training, was running round her in circles, prancing and pawing with excitement and anticipation. “ Horse looks well, Garden,” said the Colonel. “ Weight rio-ht’” “ Yes, sir,”

“ Steady, Mark, steady,” crooned Winnie, in her soft Maori voice. Mark answered the well-known voice by standing still a moment, chafing and tossing his mane. He was between Winnie and the party. Winnie carressed his flank. “ Steady Mark, I’m sorry I’m going to hurt you.” She pressed the needle suddenly into the great muscle of his flank. Mark, with an astonished air, winced mid crouched a little on his haunches. Winnie pressed firmly on the button of tne syringe. “ Steady old fellow.” The great black horse with a snort, reared up his full height, almost tearing Winnie’s arm out as he snatched at the bit. Winnie, her arm across his flank, clung on, and with a vicious expression on her small features, drove home the button. With a great bound Mark wrenched the bridle from her, flinging her staggering backwards, landed on ali fours, quivering and shaking with rage, his legs extended. A dozen excited spectators surrounded him and seized the bridle.

“Great Scott! Look at Mark,” cried Garden. “ Are you hurt, Winnie ? ” “No. Katene,” gasped Winnie, pushing the syringe into her pocket, “I think a fly must have stung him.” “Yes,” said Garden, examining the horse. “There is a little mark. A bee or a fly I suppose. It won’t hurt the old fellow. What a brave girl you are, Winnie. How you clung to him. Most girls would have run away when he reared like that.”

He soothed the horse, flung the saddle on his back and tightened the girths. He turned to the group and made his farewells, and held out his hand to Anne. “ Wish me good luck, Miss Caversham,” he said. Anne looked at him with steady blue eyes, and took the rose from her bosom.

“ I can’t give you my glove, Mr Garden. I give you a rose—carry it to victory.”

Garden raised the flower to his lips, and placed it through the buttonhole of his jacket. “ Horse seems a little stiff in the rear quarters, Garden,” observed the colonel as he mounted.

“ Yes. Seems a bit sluggish. Maybe he’s overstrained a trifle, or perhaps he’s still worrying about the fly,” said Garden. “It will wear off when ffe gets going.” As the horses walked down the field and came back in the preliminary canter, Garden studied and sized up his opponent. A long bodied, low-set, powerful horse of about 15| hands, he had a hard-bitten, determined appearance and an easy gliding gallop that impressed Garden.

“ He hasn’t Mark’s chest and shoulders,” he said to himself, “ but a lot of power behind the saddle. He’ll be hard to beat. A stayer, obviously. He’s carrying a lot of dead weight. That will tell at the finish.” The jockey, a well-known professional, carried a lot of lead to make the weight. The flag fell, and the horses raced together to the first fence. Ngatiporo. jumped long, taking off a length and a half from the fence, as long bodied horses will. Mark found the take-off too long, and rapped the fence heavily. At the second fence the same thing happened. “ This won’t do,” thought Garden. “I’ll try his speed,” and down the back of the course he gave Mark the reiu.

The bay responded, and for a couple of furlongs they raced at full pace, Mark easily forging three lengths ahead as they reached the wall.

“ Gad!” remarked the colonel to Clark, as they watched through their glasses. “They’re making the pace! They’ll never last at that. What is Garden thinking of ? ” But Garden was grinning to himself. All uneasiness had passed from his mind, and he felt the race was won. Mark’s burst of speed at the finish of a long race had made him famous in his younger days on many a course, and Garden knew he could rely on it. He “ had the legs ” of the bay, and that was all he required to know. _ He took hold of Mark and steadied him to the long, powerful threequarter pace at which he knew Mark was practically tireless, and settled down to ride a waiting race. The bay passed him at once, and the jockey still seemed inclined to make the pace, but, seeing that Garden did not respond, and that Mark fell back, he also took hold of his horse and steadied him. They passed the marquee on the first round thus, both horses leaning heavily on the bits, and. the black some 50 yards or more behind the bav.

, “He’s taking it very easy,” remarked Clark. “He must be very confident to take such a chance, what? ” Y cs, said the colonel. “ I wish he would come up a bit. Mark’s said to be a great finisher, but the bay looks the fresher of the two.

Mark was showing some signs of distress, but Garden, knowing the horse’s disposition, attributed his occasional toss of the head and slight sweating about the withers to temper and anger at being held liehind, and he felt unconcerned. The flag marking the third mile flashed by, and Garden eased his hold a little. Mark lengthened his stride, and in half a mile was beside his opponent. Garden grinned. The bay was still travelling easilj, but it was evident that he could not go much faster.

“ If you can line with Mark up tne straight, my boy, I’ll cat my hat.” Ihe horses flew the last fence together, a furlong from home. Garden S a ' e Mark the rein, and for the first time touched him lightly with the spur. “ Now for it, Mark, old boy,” he exclaimed. He expected to feel‘the familiar sensation of Mark gathering himself together for a final sprint, and thundering down the straight like a tor nado. But Mark did not respond. The horse seemed to weaken under him, and his gallop to slacken. He burst into a heavy sweat, and fell away. Only with whip and spur could Garden keep him going to the winning post, and he lumbered in “ done,” and 10 lengths behind the bay. Garden felt sick and dizzy. That Mark . should have failed him seemed inci edible, that old Mark whose courage never failed, and whose endurance seemed inexhaustible should have made no final effort whatever. He gulped down his disappointment, and it was with a smiling face that he rode into the roped-in saddling enclosure. The roars of the Maoris which had begun as the horses cleared the. last fence still continued, deafening him, as they crowded round the victor. The settlers,, with grave, disgusted faces, stood grouped together. Ev ery man was a heavy loser, and Garden s own was the only cheerful white face on the course. The colonel’s was apoplectic with rage. “ Did ye ever see such riding? ” he was demanding of the company in general as Garden rode up. “ ’Pon my word, sir, it’s disgraceful.” He strode towards Garden. . “What d’ye mean, sir? What the h—l d’ye mean by hanging on to him like that?”

“ Well, it’s all in the game, sir,” replied Garden mildly. “ I thought the old horse would put up a better finish.” “ Finish! Finish your grandmother, sir. You took all the finish out of the horse in that idiotic burst at the sod wall! ”

“ I'm sorry, colonel. I did what I thought best.”

“ Thought best, sir. Y r ou didn’t even look like a trier. ’Pon my word, you did not, sir. Sitting there' like a — cherub with the bay horse half a mile in front of you! You’ve let us down. You’ve let us down. I’m disappointed.” And the old gentleman became speechless.

Garden caught sight of Anne’s face in the crowd. He dared not look at her and meet the sympathy he knew would lie in those blue eyes. He glanced down at his vest. Iler' rose was gone. He threw’ the reins to the grooms, and turning his back strode quickly away to the dressing tent.

Manuel made his way towards him, and accompanied him to the tent. Winnie, with frightened eyes, lurked behind the crowd.

“ Hard luck, Mr Garden,” he said, pressing his hand. “ Hard luck indeed. I’m afraid Mark’s a bit passed his best.” “Looks like it,”- grunted Garden.

“ Ah, well, as you say Mr Garden, it’s all in the game.” Manuel accompanied him to the tent, and as he was changing, talked of the race. At last he said:

“ You don’t mind me mentioning it, Mr Garden, as a friend . . . What about the cash? You know the Maoris will expect a ceremony to-night and the handing over of the stakes, and speechmaking, and so on. I suppose you’re prepared, eh ? ” “ Oh, yes,’ replied Garden, “ that’s arranged. I saw’ Mitchell, the banker, last month, and arranged with him if I

lost to draw it against my wool cheque. Of course the cheque won’t quite cover it, but he will let me have the cash.” “ I feared as much,” said Manuel sympathetically. “ Garden, I’ve got bad news.. I should have told you this morning, but I kept it till after the race. The wool’s gone.” “ What do you mean? Gone! ” exclaimed Garden in amazement. “ Yes. You know it was transhipped to the schooner Parramatta? Well, she was caught in a gale and jettisoned it. Threw it overboard to save the ship. You know she was carrying it as a deck cargo. Of course it was covered by insurance, so you won’t really be a loser on the long run. But there’ll be trouble about the insurance. She shouldn’t have carried it as deck cargo. Wool’s not a proper deck cargo, you know. Sort of thing that leads to litigation and delay. The insurance people will insist on your claiming average, that is, making the ship and the owners of the remaining cargo contribute. And you’d have your claim against the ship, of course, and against her owners for damages. But it will all take some time to settle, and I’m afraid you’ll find Mitchell won’t make the advance. The Parramatta’s gone to South America, and that will cause more delay.” Garden listened in stunned dismay. He was not a commercial man, but he knew enough of shipping matters to realise that there would be delay, and plenty of it, too, under such circumstances. Manuel rattled on, speaking quickly’, as though to get his whole story’ out at once and have done with it. “ You’d better call -on me, Garden—as a friend—l’ll let you have the £2OOO. You can give me a mortgage on the sheep. W T e can go right in and fix it up now, this afternoon. I would not like to see you disappoint Ngatiporo on any’ account.” “ By jove, Manuel, it’s good of you,” said. Garden. I’ll have to accept it, I’m afraid. Can you draw such a sum at a moment’s notice? ” , “ Oh, that’s all right, Garden. My cheques are currency’ with Ngatiporo, you know’.” And so it was done. That evening at a meeting of the chiefs and the settlers, Garden handed Te Rangi Awatea Manuel’s cheque for £2OOO, and speeches were made, and many’ rounds of drinks passed round. It was well for Garden’s self-respect that he did not hear the conversation that took place late that night in the smoking room of the hotel. 1 Bo you really’ think, gentlemen,” said Clark. “ I hardly like to say’ it—but do you really think we have had a fair run for our money?” “ Oh, come, Clark,” said the colonel good humouredly. “You don’t mean to suggest he really pulled the horse? Garden’s a good fellow, even if he’s a shocking rider, and he lost £2OOO. I’m sorry 1 spoke so strongly to him.” “ I’m not so sure about that £2000,” said Galbraith. “ It’s a big sum. He paid it with Manuel’s cheque, and Manuel’s the agent for Ngatiporo. Manuel will get the cheque back in the morning if he has not got it now.” “Mell,” put in Mitchell, the banker. “ In confidence, gentlemen, it’s a little strange he did not draw the money’ from me, I expected him to.” “ Drew it from Ngatiporo themselves practically,” said Galbraith. “It looks fishy.” “ The Ngatiporo Maoris have taken a lot of money’ bets, both from us and from the other tribes. They’ve gone back with bagfuls of loot,” said Mitchell. “ I wonder if the beggar was squared,” said Clark frankly. “By jove, you know, it looks d d awkward.” “ Well, gentlemen,” said the colonel gloomily, “ when you put two and two together and take it with his riding, I must admit it does.” (To be continued.)