No. IV. KIDSTON.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9534, 5 May 1909, Page 4

No. IV. KIDSTON.

I cherish memories of my selection life for its freedom, its joys, its careless, hopes and sorrows, its utter irresponsibility. Its freedom led me anywhere, everywhere. Its joys presented me with a dog — a rare dog, a thick-skinned, shaggy-haired, blue dog. a smooging mongrel dog. Dogs were worth more than men or horses, then, and I valued him. I honoured him. I called him Kidston. I treated him well. When- j ever he caught something — a rat or a 'roo — I fed Trim. When he failed to catch something, which was very often, he fed himself from the pantry. As time went by Kidston became my unreliable servant and my most constant and unfaithful companion. Still I liked him. I liked him for his thick skin, for his presence of mind, his unreliability and his unconscious humour. To see Kidston when a mob of kangaroos started up in front of him, and led the way across creek and fence, was a higher education. He never pursued the enemy like another dog. He would never run straight. He^d.hit put when I cried "Sool 'em,", and run in a different direction to the enemy. He'd steer... to the left or right. And I would scream violent language after him and order him to "come back!" But once having decided on his course, Kidston was the devil. He wasn't to be put off. He was as deaf then as he was hairy and humorous at other times

Presently, however, I "would be compelled to cease screaming after him, and in breathless expectation I'd hold my hand over my heart and scan the horizon. And there, away at the foot of a ridge, I would see the kangaroos taking an altered course and bounding along right into the jaws of Kidston. And running my eye in advance of them I would discover Kidston' s strategic movements. There he would lie, calm and confident, waiting for them to come to him. And when they camo bounding over him. what a reception he gave them! What havoc he made amongst them ! Kidston was deadly at close quarters. He snatched : patches of hide and fur from a half-dozen of them before finally deciding on his 'roo. And then, how I would forgive Kidston everything ! And how I would applaud him, and confess my ignorance of things and admit his. superiority. But, cf course, that was when Kidston went to the right. There were times, though, when he wesnt to the left. In fact, ho mostly went to the left, and it was th_*i that his great intelligence and his humorous capacity for cloaking an err ir of judgment showed themselves at their best.

Kidston never looked disappointed when he took a short cut and found himself miles from the 'roos. He was full of natural resources and subterfuge. (He used to eat eggs.) He never lost b.B presence of mind. He would hunt industriously about till he stirred up a quail or something, and chase it hard and noisily. And when he returned he wouldn't come all the way to me. He was cautious. He would stand off a distance and study me to see bow I was taking his performance. If I swung my .arms about loosely, and didn't say anything to him, he knew be was forgiven, and would wag his tail ami smooge. If one hand remained behind my back, Kidston knew a waddy was concealed there, and ' off he'd go home, and put an end to the day's fun. Kidston was a selfish hound when he took it in his head.

I gave up hunting 'roos with Kidston for a bad job. His unreliability was too much of a strain on me. Besides,' a new and exciting species of vermin found its way ,into our district. Hares took possession of the land, and were as numerous as they. were on Kidston's back. They started up from under-foot wherever on© went. Everyone took to hare-hunting. It becamo the popular paßtime — tbe sport' of all us bush kings. I wished to be in the thick of it. I put Kidston on the chain foi a week to make him fine. He used to bark and agitate untiringly when he couldn't get to the pantry, and it used to improve his wind. And' when I took him off the chain again he was fit to rac« for a bank.

He relished the idea of hare-hunt-ing, too; he fairly revelled in it. J took him out and he pursued his first hare with ' tremendous confidence, and with his mouth wide open. It was a treat to watch Kidston when he was extended. He opened and /closed like a door. He was just in the act of grabbing that hare in his teeth when it suddenly wheeled at a. right-angle and Kidston went floundering on -ahead somewhere. It was the only time I ever saw him look foolish. When he recovered and looked round he hadn't the remotest idea where the hare had gone to. It was all a mystery to Kidston. But he made no noise about it. He ju6t walked along thinking the matter over: and after a while he brightened up and frisked hopefully about. I could see by his confident strut that he had solved the puzzle, and had his mind made up tp have it all his own way with the next hare.

The next hare left cover suddenly. Kidston took after it hard for twenty yards then cut across to the right. He was working a point by anticipating the hare. But Kidston continued "cutting across." The hare never altered its course and Kidston was deceived again. Somehow he couldn't make it out. He seemed disgusted and started to sulk. Just then Anderson's greyhound flew past on the heels of another hare, but Kidston showed no anxiety to join in the hunt. He pricked Kis cars, though, and

watched tbe contest. Kidston was always ready to learn. And he learned that when the greyhound got left every time it was only folly for him to try and catch a hare. Then it was that Kidston excelled himself. He began by displaying unusual eagerness for another chance. He soon got it. Up started a hare. Kidston nearly broke several blood vessels. For about thirty yards there was nothing between him and the hare. Then the » hare wheeled, and Kidston went on — went on with intent to deceive, and started plunging in the air and bounding about in search of the enemy, and barking in a "lost ball" sort of way. Kidston was 'a great fraud, but he had brains.

Kidston conceived an incurable dislike to hare-hunting, and avoided the sport. He avoided me, too, and^ was always out somewher© when I whistled for him. And when he wasn't out he mostly refused to follow ; and, if ho did^ consent to follow, it was in a sad, lowspirited, indifferent sort of way, and after , dragging along a few hundred yards or so he'd stand and look at meI'd coax him and say nice things > to him. He'd stand looking at me just the same. Then I'd lose patience and say: "You 1 !" And he'd run home. Kidston took up with the women. He was a terror for women, Kidston was. He would follow mother and Sarah when they visited the neighbours, and steal from the neighbours' pantries, and, when he was full, lie under the table and fill their places with fleas. And. Kidston could spare them a lot of fleas. He must have had millions on him. But it was useless trying to keep Kidston at home. If I held him with a hat over his eyes and hammered him till mother and Sarah were out of sight, he was off hot on their scent the moment he was released ; and he'd yelp with joy as he came up with them. Ah ! it was humiliating to mother and Sarah to be followed about like that by Kidston ; but it wasn't my fault. " You'll have to tie that brute of a dog up," mother said at breakfast one morning. " We're going to see Mrs Anderson's sick baby to-day, and don|t want him near the place, poking his nose into everything, and v scratching the fleas off himself the way he does.' "Well, their own dog has fleas 1" I said, defending Kidston for the first time in my life. "It doesn't matter!" mother snapped firmly. " You tie him up." I said I» would. But Kidston was a hard dog to beat. When he saw them getting ready he -summed everything up, and cleared out. And when they reached Anderson's, the first to come to the verandah to meet them was Kidston.

•»:•• » . . • - I had intended poisoning Kidston with matches, but he became suspicious and deserted our place. He went over to old Bob Philp's place and lived with him.