A NEW ZEALAND STORY.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13672, 10 April 1908, Page 8

A NEW ZEALAND STORY.

THE, MAN IN THE TREE.., ' V% jffeie K. Jtforton, in the New Jv York World.), "By^iJttpiter; it's hot!" said the young, man, dropping on to a fallen tree py the side of the track, and mopping his face vigorously. "Terribtf. hot! .The old* party said it would be,' put he said it would be so pretty ' ulat £ wouldn't mind. And it is lovely, tod, after the landscape-garden rivers at homfe." t v 'He rolled off the log, and sprawled luxuriantly on a springy bed of delicate crape ferns, and whistled to 1 a friendly, inquisitive fantail. , -( It # was one of Nature's lovely spots 1 -J-dkQred from tourist and motor car. From both sides of the track the ranges rose steeply, covered with native bush, mighty pines and oaks, tall pongas and nikaus. The track was cut in the side of the range, and followed the. course of the creek, which sometimes foamed and" roared -fifty ferny -feet be^ low, sometimes rippled smooth and wide almost beside the path. 1 .And over, all was a canopy of dazzling blue — a perfect New Zealand summer day. The. young man lay for a long time, basking in the peaceful beauty of it all. "Well, this won't do," he said, at last. "I'll have to move." ; >He got up reluctantly, and walked steadily for an hour. Then, as he turned; round » bend, he paused again and looked longingly at a deep, shady pooL farther down fringed with ferns, '■^hat a nice place to swim t" he said. "How lovely that water looks f My word, , I'm going in ! Nobody's likely, to .pass in this forsaken epot, so I'll be all right. I'll undress here, and wade down, as the banks are so steep." He damberted down to*. the bed' of the creek, and threw most of his clothes behind a large, rock. Then, very airily attirfed, he waded down the. creek, truly an unusual' figure m those forest depths. - . ' ''It's a blessing no one ever comes here. Jove,! What a lovely, smooth place; looks almost as if it had been made on purpose." Had he seen the two bathing garments and large towel away at the far end, < this idea would probably havQ been strengthened. But he didn't. H*e waded carefully in and .started to disrobe — if such a very short process could 3j» so termed. > * t> While in "the aot he suddenly paused, listening carefully. Arid, sounding at last above the noisy rfaters, he heard voices— someone singing round the bend. He didn't wait to distinguish , the tune, He splashed out df the water, and gazed wildly round 'for sanctuary. But there was only a wide, open space here, with no sheltering undergrowth, although the branches were ,closely entwined overhead. The situation- certainly," called for prompt action ; and, realising' this omy too acutely, he made for 4. giant oak a few. yards joff. . Quickened by fear, fee* scrambled -up that mighty trunk,* and, / scratched and panting, got well in among the dense foliage and peerea out. . „•'"' A The song now came distinctly, to hSsi ears. ' 'Women's VcHcea ! ' ' he niuttertec! , < in fresh consternation, -'• wipiag ' h'& heated brow. . ' -* r " ' -\ Round they came,, on thfe! oppbsite track, two girls, singing sft'^the to|t 'of their voices, and marching ,to time. Certainly a strange pair. • Sfrdrfr very old, short skirts ; one, a man's old . Norfolk, , with btrlgrng' pdeketi^ and rol|9d-up sleeves; the- other^ tt m^ilreaten sweater. Both were barefooted I ,'' and walked with strong lancewooa staffs. One also carried b giro oh(hershoulder, slung round . the barrel ( f which i were her shoes and stockings, a Slackened billy, and a couple of rab--bits^. Battered, weather-stained panamas; tied under the chin with 'string, completed their outfit. . v - • ;' "Great Scott'! !t gasped the. m&ri tin the tree. ''Where On earth are theY going?" , The answers came with disconcerting fsuddetiness, for the song stopped, and! 1 as Af in reply, oiie of the girls exclaimed, "Here we are at last!" They turned off the track, and slid' down the bank-, sending tiny pvalanches of pebble* rattling into tho creek'j then splashed across; and the young man turned cold with dismay as they made directly for his 1 place of refuge. He groaned inwardly." ;- "What a ghastly fix! What on earth shall I do?" The eirls flung /down' their sticks' and floppea on to ' the mossy ground. "Wheugh! ' Isn't it oppressively warm?" said the elder one, she of the Norfolk and gnn — a girl of about nineteen, with curly brown hair. She was tall; and straight, and sunburned. Her face was strong, but pleasant. ' Her" ' ■speech was in \ keeping with her cosfume, it being comfortably unorthodox, and. expressive rather than elegant. "Here, undo this wretched' string, Con, before it cuts my throat!" she t*aid. ■ * Con did as requested. She looked a little .youngor, and, judging by bier good-humoured expression, was evidently a congenial spirit. "Thanks! Now' let's stretch onr toes, and think of all the good people in' town. Just look- how burned even my feet are," ,sbe> broke off irrelevantly. "Never mind," said Gon. "The hose and gloves of civilisation will soon reduce /that barbaric .tan. You'll bleach, when,, you get back to dear old Cornmerle Street, Phil." Pl*il waved a foot defiantly. "Hang Commerce Street!?' she said, with emphasis. "It seems like some horrid dream, when I, a barefooted guy, with a gun, picture myself this time tomorrow, the ' very correct' typewriter girl at Clarke-Browne and Son's!" ' , The leaves overhead rustled violently! as the young man almost dropped out of the tree in his amazement. "ClarkeBrowne and Son!" Why, ho was the son! Phil's thoughts were running on. "Horrid old place!" she said, angrily chewing a bit of grass. "I've been there six years, ana old Browne's only giving me twenty-five shillings a week ! He otighVto make me his secretary, now that the other has left I The precious son, from London, is to take command of things now. Expect <fre got in by the New Plymouth bo%t last week." J '/Well, aak.him for an increase when you get back," suggested Con. "What's he lilco, anyhow ?' ~ ' "Him! Bah! He'll be a regular fop by now—he's been Home for six year«. On© of these 'Haw-haw, don-cher-knowv* creatures with waxed moustache, and a hooked can©, and a huge collar. I've taken a viplent dislike to him already!" , "Oh! Indeed!" thought tho clean'sjjaven young man grimly. "Well, .that settles it. I'll stay in the, tree, till, doomsday, rather than let that Ibletfced girl know how she's treed her employer." resumed Phil, "I'm not going to spoil the last 9f my holiday thinking of nasty things. I'm awfully, hungry. I wonder what time it is? We started at half-past fouf,

and have been tramping ever since." *Bhe walked to the creek, and gazed ;top into the sky. "Why, it must be close on twelve. Wake up, Con, before I' throw this billy of \ water over, t" v, r and let's have a swim before nch: Up you get!" ""Right-on!" answered Con, jumping "&pt and struggling with the, sweater. "Wait a minute," said Phil, throwing off the Norfolk jacket. "Here, just undo my back hair first, there* b a good girl." • < . . v At this agonising crisiß the- young man move&^ms cramped -limbs, and, turning his head .sharply, banged it. against a neavy branch. It was the last straw. "Hang it!" he breathed vehemently, in a savage^ tense whisper, rubbing his ; aching < head! Con stopped short. "Did you hear that?" she whispered excitedly. "What?" said Phil. "Go on, and don't put on that tragic air." "I heard someone say ,*Hang it!' " Con persisted. "And I x believe something moved in that tree I" Phil laughed sceptically- "Extremely likely, when we're the only persons within miles. Poof! It was a bird, or a wildcat;* -Here's my rifle. I'll just take a pot-shot, for your satisfaction. *Sb stand clear and see the feathers fly!". 1 She. snatched up the gun, and raised it to her shoulder. • "For Heaven's sake,, don't" shoot! Don't. shoot!'* rang out from somewhere up aloft, in a voice shaking with< keenest agitation. "Great, Caesar's ghost!" gasped Phil blankly, '"ftfs a brute of a^manl Who are you, ana what are you doing up' „t here?" she called in stern accents. . "Come down this instant, or' l'll fire!" . The "brute of. a man" realised thatj he was 1 trnltV'-up. a tree." : . It Was difficuffc to be dignified under rt&e circumstances; but he madfe a valiant effort' to adopt his best "business voice. ' I "Now. my girl, put that rifle down, .and " i "I'm not your, girl, and I won't put my rifle down," stormed Phil. -"You .mean eavesdroptter. J Come down out of that tree or I'll come up and pull -,you down. l I'm not afraid of you. sneak! Here, Con, give me a leg up!" She actually scrambled up a foot or 80. , Then Ramom Clarke-Browne threw i mollification^ to, ,the £ four winds, and yelled frantically, " '*Keep down, confound ity keep down. s I'm not dressed !" Phyllis fell down in a horrified heap. '*I was going in for ti swim when you' came shouting along, and I had to haul myself ud here. 1 for shelter. i Of course, you musty go ,»ihl .plank yourselves down <<iirectly underneath. How could I help hearing you talk? I couldn't- come do^rn, -could I pv he ended bitterly. '"Well," .said Phil, "didn't you say /Hang it?' What did you do that iori"'< . - ■ -• ,' : . . , "I said 'Hang* bocahiste I almost split my skull, and I called oni because I didn't want, it blown to pieces v<afterward. N.ow, is there - anything ' else jyou d Jike to k-nowB 1 IT positively e'rijoy fitting up. Aero ' answering questions! 5 ' >v "All, .right,'?- <»*ted Phil r "Come dp,wu an^getyourclotnesjiTv'e'Te going for a walk/ \ - -'.: ' •; .. They ran off; crossed the creek, and quickly disappeared. '• - '■' •/ /r/ r , | >jTb,e yot#tg man, descended, ana Aftjer dressing with 'unwonted Rapidity', ) lay apwn and • slowly reeoveried ' from. v tte shockr-botfe > mental u'aftd cttiysicaK i'jNeyeragainj^Jbenmttere'd; 4 *tliis will be. a. lifelong leasoftt 'M* w6r& that gjrpewriterrgirl of< niine s fs a caution"! No i foolery about, her ! Where on e*a¥th djd; , #kie leart* tar shoot " rabbits ? She's :a fine shot, too, judging by the clean-* 1 Wjft\ she's finished off those bunnies f. I w,onder if these are ordinary «po•cimens of J^eW Zwd«rad girW? I'm fa lor lively times. if thefse ar"e tnbif.:ordin~ ary, metttode^threateaiiiig 'to' '„ blow , strangers /to pidces if they' don't* obey." r ,TjUe siris .being anxious to'sco'the ■Voice clothed, and in iti right nuyd,tt'ore not long in returning. ' They approached, and eyed the stranger ivjth some* interest . t " *' • "Now," said JPhjl, ' "I think you owo it to us tp>teli,who yo\i.^*e,-and' I wiiore yon' re going, and how you came' to be hero."' - ■ "■> ' ' ■• •• ' • ' ' "Certainly," he replied 1 courteously. .".My name is Ransom.' He didn't asd the CHarJ&e-BroSvaie! forobfriofls reasons, "I have' been^for"' a trip on the lWanganui, and 'was returning to town by last night's train. 1 got out at a station some miles from here, and went for a stroll,, as thej* said the train waited 1 fifteen minutes: It-'didn't; and — well, I flew into the station again just as- it had gone flying 'out ! An old man housed me for the night, and tpld me to walk {through this way and get to-night's special from= Te Rongia. lA-nd WaVjj what I was doing when^Wben — —"' "Yes, just so," interrupted Con.' !'But Te Rongia is, still nearly fifteen miles farther on. Now that. you atp here, you'dCbaifter stay aid mvre« 4 ctip of tea. Eh, Phil?" Phil hesitated, and looked at him again. Yes, he was a decidedly nice;.Jook4ng young, with an ; honest . face, ana clear- hazel eyes that met her own frankly. "All right," she ,'said cheerfully, "if you don't mind our rough-a ( nd[»ready-«tyle! >li «' f Ransom hesitated and was lost. He threw discretion behind him. And'having boiled some water in the billy, fchby Bat down to a delightful al fresco luncheon underneath the shady tree. Trtie ; ho drank, out of a jam tin, and ate with his penkife and a small twig, but that •only, added to the delightful novelty of it'aty. '.* *-> < ' ' *' • He had intended to go as soon as lunch was pvet) but How ho wanted to change His rabid — these girls interested and amused him vastly. ■ "Wha'tV the odds P" he thought recklessly. "I suppose in books I'd make a bumble Confession and spoil the i day for us all. No ! I may as ,well bo hanged for mutton as lamb, and the denouement will be much easier when I'm entrenched behind my office table and other aids to dignity. My line is clearly to, jnakfi. .the. De«t impression possible while h hWkHKe* chance !" : ' "• ' ' ' **. • : How much of sthis was logic, and hoAV much due to a fatal dimpje fa liis chin, would be a difficult matter to determine 1 . Anyway, he stayed, and presently they walked down the creek to see a monster bine-free, lying in a gully vvaft-i ing for tllfe lumberman. / - * ' "Now," he said, as they strolled along/ "won't you tell me what on earth you two ladies are doing here all alone?" "We're here, for our- holidays," said Phil. "I lived here till seven years ago. My father and I lived in a little cottage all by ourselves. He taught me to shoot, to Dole logs down the creek, and all sorts of things. He used to trip the big dam, , One awful night in winter a man banged at the door, and shouted that the dam would burst in ten minutes. Father ■' kissed me ana r weut out, iflto the storm. I sat up all that awful night by myself." Hpr voice shook. "He' tripped the dam, But he never came back, Whpn tho creek fell, a fortnight afterward," they found his' body miles down. I was sent to town, and have been in an office ever since. But I com© back to my cottage whenever I can, and shoot and swim again.

It's a wild, free life, and it; fascinates >> ■ !' "Here we are at the. gully," said, Con, bofore the young man could replj. >'Just look at the height of these stony walls. How long is.it, Phil?" "Over a mile," said PhiL "There's a big pile of logs fafrther, down, and a monster pile over twelve feet through. They walked down a regular canon by the side of the narrow, roaring torreri't. "Here are the logs," Phil said. "They're going to' trip the dam tonight. It will be a /glorious sight— the 'drive' — thundering down here ! Its moonlight, and Con and I are going to watch for it." , "I should like to see it," said the young man, as they stood on the lo^s. "What a splendid sight to see this huge fellow being washed down!" "What a roar this water makes!" said Con presently. "You can't hear anything else." "Do you know," said Ransom, "I've fancied for some' "time I v have heard something, but I'm not used to bush sounds!'" "Well, I've been surprised once today," laughed Phil, "and now I'm not so sceptical. What is the noieo like?' Ransom was listening intently, then he cried excitedly, "It is something. Can't you hear ? It's gotting much clearer — a horrid booming and crashing » And even as he spoke Phil heard, and leaped wildly from the logs as the truth flashed on her. "The drive! The dam has burst ! It's coming ! It^s coming, and ' we're in this awful death-trap ! Rttn for your lives; we can't go back. There-'s a rata vino hanging from the top — our only hope," she panted, as stumbling and slipping they rushed frantically over, the .rough, jagged rocks; with the deep, booming thunder close behind. "Here it is! Ouly. oik* can go at a time. O.uieklj'j Coii!' Pale uitli terror, Con scrambled to »fche top. . "Now," said the other two, looking squarely in each other's eyes. "Up you go," said the man. "I shall not.go^" Phil, answered, striving to speak calmly. * "Nor I, till yoif are safe. 1 ' f< „ \ Louder and louder grew tho . crashing thunder of the swift-pursuing flood. PjhiJ's eyes flashed, and sfie screamed ,abqve the defeaning roar: "Go up quickly, for Heaven's sake! Do you want us both to be drowned? It will be on us in two minutes! Go! Go-!" The man saw nothing could forco.lier to move, and he went. As Con pulled him over tho edge, Phil was tugging at the vine with ,all hor weight ; a,nd i% came tearing. .and sliding' dqwa in her hands. / . „ . . > A' scream of horror, rang out above. «Ah, Heaven! I feared it! w shej gashed ; and looking wildly round, .she saw death almost upon her in the great yellow wall of, 'water now surging furi-' ous}y/ down the 4 gully. . , • But even in that moment of deadly peril' she could still act, and catching up her la,ncewood pole 'she ran madly, with the energy, of despair, back to tiw logg. .She scrambled, up, up, over them all,,, and even^'as she sto^d^?^ the Big pine 'the yellow, tumbling flood crashed down oa her. \ . - , HJji above the man and tho girl looked' snvay and groaned:' Do\yn f?Wept tho turbulent maelstrom. . Hu^e logY branch^- and stones , whirled ab^r^ in a .mail dancer as though they Were, matcHes.lt, , r rH ' Tjie MlAh looked again, then shouted hoarsely/^Lookl; . jthe giant log tossed beneath them, jan#— m&rvoloiisj — Phil standing erect 'on U, balancing herself with her. polo, as' she h*d , learned years ,J>eiQre J A Otlier ' logs grotrna agamst it ; it r'dn,qd and jbumped, but its immonso size prevented it from going tinder. „ "Come!" screamed Con. "linn for your life! There's a narrow part roupd tlio nfjxt" bend "w^yre it n;«y Ik> jatameu, and jU^t below ' arc the 'IV Kongia Fa 113!," ..•-'" . ' Th'6y tore jprnyn,, strirTfig to keep pace with ihe'UriAo. Ilio truck gi\:dually fe)l t ; they'ii-eachovl 'ho l.'o.iom Hiul stood;' n't tho *)eud, where tho banps vore'alxni' two^vo foot h\<j,V. ' \ "Heavens ! What a tumult ! Here itj com«s! Is she there t<t ill? Yn!" 4nan advanced as, near as he dared^ and- brtla-'Jhed a prayer as {lie .first logs crashed oruv the m:ictj--fcot drop, just below. The huge pino ' twisted and ro|led ; reached, the curve, -'the wafers lifted it high,, and , dashed it brnadside on right between the narrow banks. It ground heavily,, swerved,- and then stuck fa^t. ti • Quick' as l&Htenittg Phil leaped off into the swirUng water at tbo ei\%e. s Struggling Jiei-cely with the rushing debris, Rnnaoni reached her, and flinging one arm round her, tiragged hor into safety;. , * I <r i »• * * "" Next :mbrnihg,<> the new manager at Clarke,-Brmvno and Son's stit m bis office waiting ia^pationtly. JJe had told the'ql^rk to sejid the; type-writer girl in as soon as 'she arrived. Presently there was a -Ugkt.' knock and a tall, well-dressed "young* l&dy of about tltrec-and-twenty stepped briskly in. Ransom gasped slightly, and promptly forgot everything he had prenaro'l to say. The 'girl looked at hint; thon slje gasped. "Why! Whfct is this?- |Hr Ransom here? What on* carth —^ Oh, you're surely not thereon; from ( Londoul" ' "Yes, I am,*'-Jie said . nervously. "I — I — want to, apolo " I / "Yes! I should J thirik so," she said, "drawing herself «ip, very straight. "Oh ! what a mean-" trick ; never to toll me, after all youVh^ard me saying about you ! ' Oh I lio^/corild you ?" She was almost tearful fti her angry mortification 1 . *\ ' '•Please, Miss Phyllis, listen," he pleaded. "I {Joiildri'f; really help it; indeed, n'ffef thart awful time in the gully, I hadnH' a 'chance. Won't you forgive me — and^—^and- " he blundered on, ( "and — iwou't you start as secretary ationceP" "What," as a sort' of reward for the gully incipient H"' she- said bitterly. ' He forgot his nervousness, and looked fajrly iajhfr v ©yes r and hor colbur rose. "No," ho s^jtl quietly, r "I/vo. thanked Heaven fo£yoiir' escape, but I can't thank you for mine as I want to — yet!" he added softly. Thon his thoughts changed, and he laughed heartily;; , , "Great Scot^'Tio exclaimod. "What a day of awkward sottl-stirriug predicaments it was for poor .me! I'm only thankful tny fexnafo" ttpt > -'"'ritnr didn't shoot me 'doad at fcho Tjcginntng. Jtist think of my feelings when you aimed [that ' gun at mo and ordered me down!" ' Her stern resolve melted; sho forgot their fearful experience, and Imrst into a ringing laugh as she recalled details of the tree episode. "Shako hands," sho said, in Jicr bright, frank fyafti "Wo'ixj going to bo real good fnenHs! 1 '

P. Cor