KAPPIA TURNS MOTORIST

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 58, Issue 4193, 7 June 1939, Page 6

KAPPIA TURNS MOTORIST

A CAR THAT DIDN’T GO. On arrival at ' the village Kappia was met by a coterie of friends and relatives who had come to inspect the car, which had not yet arrived, and of course to confer on him the benefit of their own inexperience, for news of the negotiations had travelled wide. Under the circumstances there was nothing that could be done, and as it was kai time and Kappia was workworn and not disposed to be unusually joyous, the assemblage dispersed. The meal over Kappia decided to seek physical rest and retired for the night, but sleep was beyond his reach. Every car that hooted or by other means made its presence known in the neighbourhood was, or should be, Kappia’s car, according to the calculations, deductions and general reasoning of Kappia—but it wasn’t. The ukuleles, mandolins, guitars and singing in different quarters of the kianga gradually ceased, had almost hushed; the lights were nearly all extinguished when the comparative stillness was broken by the cry as of some one or something in distress. It was in fact a peculiar combination of noises—hard to define, but definite in effect. Kappia’s interest was aroused as was also that of the whole 'kianga. Listening intently he arose and putting on an overcoat given to him by the kind-hearted wife of a 6ft 2in pakeha—Kappia is sft 6-Jin in his bare feet —he* went to the door of his whare. The kianga was reanimated, lights were again gleaming, dogs were barking, chickens protesting, while the cows, seizing the opportunity to be as far away as possible for the morning milking, made for the sand hills, and still above, and penetrating the general perplexity, could be detected the rouge ’atre, vociferations of men, evidently too overwrought to adhere to extreme delicacy in the choice of language, the laboured breathing and resentful lowing of bullocks and the creaking and jangling as of a locomotive, the working parts of which were hanging together on one bolt. Slowly and somehow shrely, there came into view, and opposite Kappia’s abode, two perspiring bullocks drawing something which from its outline silhouetted against the moonlight had the appearance of what was, or perhaps had been, a modern autocar. Two pakehas returning from a fishing trip came upon Kappia as the bullocks pulled up and though known to them he was not recognisable in his over-fitting overcoat. Still, they spoke to him in a friendly way, enquiring for information regarding the unusual appearance of the stationary outfit. “My word, I not know,” he replied. “I buy te motor car alright but not te burrock to make him go.” “But won’t the car go unless the cattle pull it?” asked one of them. “It no look like it,” said Kappia, “but ask te feller in te car. I can’t get to him quick-with-out falling on account of this agranoysperating—Kappie didn’t use such a colourless expression—overcoat. Complying, the pakeha moved to the car and addressed an individual in the driver’s seat, taking no interest in anything, moving or inert, around him. He was, in fact, asleep.

Just then one of two men who had been standing by the bullocks called ed, “You owe me two quid, Kappia, and I want you to know that the uncoclumterraceous job (he used a different word) is worth a fiver.” “What •for?” asked Kappia. “What for!” echoed the bullocky, “Why, because I’ve been all this hydrostatic afternoon with my two lovely, but now expirin’ hanimals hangin’ on to this excrucipitating rattletrap of yours to make it come without failin’ to bits. I’ve ’auled yer old tin lizzie from the other end of the Purunui, so wot about a drink of tea an’ more specially the two quid? An’ me an’ ‘Oni ’ere ’ll take whisky and damper 'ome agen, that is, unless they both needs a epigraph before they gets there.” It was getting pretty late, so between the two whites and some of Kappia’s native friends enough was raised to liquidate the two quid claim, the pakehas invited the bullocky and his “off-sider” to share a nocturnal repact, the kianga retired for the night and Kappia, lifting his skirts, again sought repose. As the episode is based on an actual happening in the Kawhia district, and as all the principal actors are still alive (strange to say) it will be as well to wait a week to see what happens. There is a rumour that Kappia and his friends ventured an excursion in the motor car—that the friends returned in another vehicle — Kappia didn’t. Particulars next week.