THE SWIM

Taranaki Daily News, 17 October 1931, Page 13 (Supplement)

THE SWIM

A MAN AND A DOG

(ißy

“Scriblerus.”)

A thick haze of heat had crept into the valley and seemed to be stifling the life out of everything. Even the larks could not summon up energy enough to rise into the air above the hill-tops. The willows, listlessly trailing their leaves in the river, looked cool and carefree, but the heat had stifled almost everything else. In the five-foot drain that led across the wide river flat into the stream a gaunt old man with drooping red moustaches moved methodically at his work.

First the battered green hat, then the lined grimy 'face, and last of all a gnarled hand and arm, would appear above the edge of the drain. 'With unerring precision the hand chose the flat stones —not any stone, but always the one that fitted —and then the figure would disappear. There would be a sound of scraping as the rock was fixed in place and once again the head and arm would appear.

It was monotonous. Yes, but the man did not mind that much. It was the heat that worried him most. 'Bending between the narrow walls of the excavation he pushed and strove with the sharp stones. They were troublesome at times, and every now and then the jagged edges tore pieces of skin from his /knuckles. He did not notice the pain, but it bustled him, and he grew warmet. The perspiration poured down his temples and splashed on his hands. The rough shirt that he was wearing was soaked, and clung to his back. By the side of the heaped-up debris from the ditch lay his dog. The long head of the animal seemed to be laughing inanely at the shimmering haze, for the mouth was wide open and the long tongue, flecked with little patches of earth which it was too much trouble to discard, lolled from the side of the mouth. v

An hour passed. The. man swung himself from the drain to choose another • piece of gray stone. He stretched and looked at the sun and the shadows which, were like little dark puddles on the brilliant green and amber of the paddock. He was stoning the drain by contract, so lie could stop work to cool off whenever he wanted to, but he received his meals at the farm-house, and the woman there was, well —a man had to bo punctual to the minute. And she was always nagging about his dirty face and hands. He regarded the sweltering drain with distaste. He’d be damned if lie was going into that again until he had had his dinner. 'Perhaps he might just as well push on to the house and chance it. 'Where was the dog? Putting his grimy fingers to his mouth, he whistled. There was an answering bark from the river. 'The shrill summons was repeated and again there was the barking, accompanied this time by the sound of splashing. Damn the dog. He would 'have to go and fetch it. Stumbling among the high bushes, he made his way towards the pool. The river here came through light scrub and bush, flowing rapidly and with an agreeable tinkling gurgle in a series of tiny cascades down into a deep, still pond, on one side of which was a steep bank, draped with creepers and little bushes. The lower strata had been eaten away by the current. The pool was deep and broad and the dean shingle on which he stood continued right under it. As a result the water was fresh and brightly translucent with little dimples and eddies -to mark the course of its flow from the spaikling rapids at one end to the shadowed tarn beneath the overhanging cliff—the cliff with the moist, green under-surface so dank and cool.

The dog, dripping bright diamonds from his black body, to which the hairs clung wetly, bounded towards its master and shook itself vigorously. It was instantly enveloped in a rainbow mist, and t'he ancient aimed a half-hearted kibk at him. As if he wasn’t wet enough already.) He looked at the animal 'bounding* Around him in a series of estatic leaps. -Picking up a stick he threw it in the water and the dog raced after it and hit the surface far out in a most satisifying explosion of- spray and glittering ripples. A smile gradually broke across his face. Tunny how dogs liked the water. He 'had not had a swim since he was a 'boy and his last bath, well—it must be IS months since he had started work on this farm. There was no bath anyway, and in the summer there was not enough water at the house.

It was a good game. They were both enjoying themselves. The old man was throwing stick after stick into the river. Hell, it was hot though. He sat down. Used to go for swims in pools like that when he was a kid. Why not? His boots slipped off easily. In a minute he had discarded his filthy garments. The sun blazed on his gray body and he allowed the sand to sift between his toes. He moved forward. One foot dipped into the shallow water at the edge. He jumped, and the wbter splashed around him. A cry, a hideous, halfstrangled cry, a cry of exultation and triumph, escaped his lips. With a whirl of scrawny legs and arms he east himself into the pool. © « • © Half an hour later the man strode up from the river towards the homestead. 'The sun glared, down on the hazy vallev, but tho man walked freely, his arms swinging. As he neared the house he even 'broke into a short trot. A hidden tree-trunk impeded his progress and ho stum-bled, but he. only laughed. Despito the weight of his boots there was an unaccustomed springiness in his step, and he felt young again. He rubbed his hands together. They felt clean and -supple. The woman at the house would not know him, he was sure. As he neared the, kitchen a foetid breath of mingled cabbage-waler and boiling meat inundated him. Any food would smell good now. His stop quickened and he made for the back door. “Late apain, damn y’ an' by yer look y’ avn’t done a tap all day. What do y’ think (we pay y’ for? Here I’ve 'been slaving me heart out in this blasted kitchen all morning.” The old man stopped abruptly and studied the slovenly woman that stood by the door, file took a step forward and tried to smile. It was one of those smiles that are doomed to failure before they are born. “Go an’ scrub yer ’ands an’ face,” she said. He went.