TALES AND FANCIES

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 86, 2 July 1927, Page 11

TALES AND FANCIES

FROM THE PEN —OF—FRITZ HOLLAND {All rights reserved )

“GRRFF!” In Taranaki there was a big Maori gtblete; we’ll call him Bates. He was a heavyweight, a wrestler better than lto average, and adventurous, and, haring been imposed upon at previous times, he was emphatically a sceptic. Matthews was a showman. various times, he had entertained certain sections of the public »ith hoop-la, circus, and whatnot; but ha felt that there was more due to hig "public'’ than such hackneyed stunts as these. He probed his ingenuity £or an inspiration, which was July forthcoming. Having heard of a "wild man’’ reported to have been seen in the country back of Taihape, he claimed to hare captured the said wild man, and forthwith arranged to exhibit the untamed one at agricultural shows, sports meetings, etc., throughout New Zealand. Now, having advertised his possession of the curiosity, it became necessary to find it. His partner, Briggs, indignantly repudiated the proposal that he should jpend day after day in an uncongenial pit, gnawing a bone, growling like a dog, and otherwise comporting himself in accordance with the accepted traditions of savagery. He insisted that Matthews, having originated the scheme, was entitled to the stellar role. Matthews, perforce, reverted to uncivilisation, and posed as the wild man. They opened at Hawera. A pit had been dug. and therein, unshaven and unshorn, crouched Matthews. Outside, Briggs, mounted on i platform, regaled the assembled country folk with blood-curdling tales of the pit-dweller’s ferocity. "La-dies and gen-tle-men,” Briggs bellowed. "I have come upon your showground to-day with the most wonderful exhibit that has ever been presented on any show-ground, in any country in the world. I have here to-day ‘Grrff,’ the Taihape nomad. We don’t know his name! We’ll never know it. That question he answers thus: ‘Gird.’ Hence his title. Whence oomes he? From the Taihape bush, ladies and gentlemen. Where goes he? Around the world, ladies and gentlemen, to satisfy the universal demand that he be shown in person to breathlessly-expectant audiences everywhere. What is he? Science is silent Is he the missing link? Probtbly. Who knows? But this much we do know, ladies and gentlemen, he’s wild, wild —untameably wild. He is confined, ladies and gentlemen, in s deep pit, ladies and gentlemen. Should he escape from that pit, ladies and gentlemen, his life would be forfeit, for I am allowed to exhibit him with the express undertaking that ihould he become unmanageable, or should he escape, ladies and gentle-

men, me rmemau wlio guards him constantly is sworn to shoot him in his tracks.” Fearsome howls issuing from withm sent shivers of dread through the morbid ones who had gathered in front or the tent. Bates now pushed forward. He fair tinkum wile?” he queried. “Is he wild? Listen to him!” shouted Briggs. “Py korry, him sous’ wil’ orright,” Bates agreed, and headed the rueh for admission. Stationing himself at the edge of the pit. Bates gazed awe-stricken at Matthews—at first. Then, as Briggs launched forth into his lecture to the crowded tent, scepticism dawned in Bates’s eyes. Matthews did not measure up to Bates’s estimate of what a real wild man should be. "Bother’t! Him not wild!” Bates declared.

"Not wild? Not wild? Ladies and gentlemen, will you listen to that! This Maori has the audacity to declare that ‘Grrff’ is not wild. Why, mv good man, if you were in that Dit for one moment ‘Grrff’ would tear you limb from limb. Why, ladies and gentlemen, the Tasmanian devil is an angel of Mercy compared to ‘Grrff’.'’ Bates had heard enough. He did not believe the pakeha, and anywav, he had never been bested in a wrest ling match in his life. “I see if him wile,” he assured the crowd, and leaped into the pit. Matthews had listened to the debate with fear and foreboding. He had heard of this Bates before, a strangler, a bone-breaker, a scientific thug—that’s what he’d heard of Bates. “Grrff,” he growled half-heartedly. He had seen Bates preparing to leap in. and he was wishing that he had some way of leaping out. Too late! Bates had arrived. Matthews’s next; growl was a failure —one can’t gulp and growl simultaneously—and just here he made a tactical error. He should have brained Bates at once with the beef-bone, but he hesitated, and was lost. Bates tackled him.

In the twinkling of an eye, Matthews was lifted high in the air and slammed hard enough on the ground to knock the breath entirely out of his body. Then Bates, grinding Matthews’s face in the dirt, applied a toehold, a leg-wrench, a neckbreak, a hammer-lock, and every other scheme of torture that Matthews had ever heard of. He was now doubling Matthews backward. Briggs thanked his lucky stars that he had not been so foolhardy as to enter the pit. He called the other Maoris over and pleaded with them to save Bates’s life. They laughed disdainfully; they had every confidence In Bates being able to fend for himself. Finally, Bates desisted when Mat thews lay, a crumpled heap on the floor of the pit. Bates arose triumph antly. “You want te wile man, eh I te fair tinkum wile,” he boasted "Grrff!”