Frank Melton's Luck; OR, OFF TO NEW ZEALAND.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VII, Issue 18, 2 May 1891, Page 2

Frank Melton's Luck; OR, OFF TO NEW ZEALAND.

AN ORIGINAL STORY. BY

THOMAS COTTLE, REMUERA.

AUCKLAND, N.Z

CHAPTER VII. MANUKAU BAK—THE LOVELY HALF-CASTES. LEFT Auckland by bus for Onehunga, a port on the opposite side of the island, a distance of about eight miles from Auckland, so narrow is the snip of land at this point. The country through which we passed was wildly beautiful, and evidently volcanic. Mount Eden, the monarch of the many other sugar-loaf - shaped hills scattered here and craters, stood out in imposing there containingextinct grandeur as we drove down Kylter Pass. < >ur driver was not far out when in his peculiar phraseology he remarked : ‘ This must have been a hot old shop at some time or the other, sir.’ Dire, indeed, must have been the devastation worked, and hellish the discord, when those huge blocks of scoria, strewn in rugged piles round its base, were torn and disrupted from the bowels of the earth, and hurled with resistless force into their present admired disorder. I was always a lover of nature, even in her rudest and most terrific aspects. They have ever possessed an irresistible charm for me. When others quaked with fear I experienced intense enjoyment, and I could not help longing that I had been present to witness, at a those now peaceful hills belching forth clouds of smoke, streams of lava, and storms of stone. Round the foot of Mount Eden now nestle, among beauti-fully-planted grounds, numerous suburban residences, the most lovely retreats possible for the tired business man. After a good night’s rest at the hotel by the wharf, the porter woke me at an early honr to ensure my being on board in time. As I walked down the wharf I noticed some lady passengers, but they were enveloped in wraps, as the air was cold, and in the misty morning light I could not see what they were like. We pushed off from the wharf just as the rays of the rising sun made their first appearance on the horizon. The Manukau Harbour is a large inland sheet of water, into which flow numerous rivers and creeks. The bar at the Heads had been about three years previously the scene of the disastrous wreck of H.M.S. Orpheus. Owing to taking a wrong channel, she struck on the rocks, and sank almost immediately, with a les? of somewhere about one hundred and eighty lives, seventy only being saved. There had been an animated discussion between ourcaptain and some landsmen as to whether this dangerous bar was safe to cross on this particular morning, just before we left the wharf. During the last two days there had been rough weather atsea, and the matter appeared doubtful. Our skipper, however, maintained that the pilot had signalled it safe, so he would certainly try it. The otbei party remarked that the pilot was an old fool, and he would certainly recommend the passengers to have the funeral service read before they started, as there would be no time later on. This tended to discompose some of our passengers, especially an elderly, sour looking, unprotected female. She had not the appear ance of one who would require much protection, by the bye. She had brought with her a lot of cases of goods, and was, it turned out, a milliner by trade. • Is there really any danger, captain ?’ she inquired with a look of terror, which in a moment changed to a shrewd, businesslike one, as she added, • because if there is I won t go this 1 rip, and then if you do go down I’ll purchase a good stock of crape and mourning stuffs, which will sell well in Taranaki next week. I’ve only got summer goods here.’ ‘ Well, my dear,’ retorted our amiable captain, ‘ I hardly think we shall oblige you this time by letting you turn an honest penny that way. On some future occasion perhaps I may send my wife instead of myself, if you'll promise me the crape cheap for my sleeve and hat, and also agree to console the poor widower with the half of your business and the whole of yourself.’ * Fie <>n you, captain ’.’ she exclaimed. • Why, you would be for drowning me in a week.’ * Well, it's certainly quite possible.’ Here he made a pause, to the great amusement of the passengers; then went on, * We ll drown you as it is if you try to land at Taranaki this trip, so it's a pity you didn't bring the craj>e along, for I’m sure such a smart girl would be deeply regretted.' • You’re talking nonsense just to frighten me, I know you

‘ Indeed, then, I’m not. It will be mighty rough there for the surf boats, I can see.'

• Well, I must land if possible, for I've promised a lot of dresses by the end of the week, and not a stitch in the stuff yet. for it's here.' This little dialogue would not have been worth recalling did it not lead up to an incident to be related further on. We were now fast approaching the bar, and as the sun was now fairly up, the scene was one of most magnificent splendour. As far as the eye could reach wa« a mass of enormous rollers, crested with foam and tipped with a golden hue. The rugged Heads, gilded with a similar glitter

ing colouring, rose abruptly to a great height on either side from the angry waters ; the mighty waves dashing at their feet with a force of relentless fury, which made one wonder that even rocks could withstand such fierce onslaughts. The stern decree, ‘ Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther,’ was never better exemplified than here, and, I may say, never more madly, though impotently, resisted. The Northern Heads were partly clothed in bush, especially about their skirts, and were particularly broken and mountainous. The southern side is less precipitous, and the country is open on the seaward slope. The pilot station and lighthouse now stand on this height, having been removed from the North Head, where they were originally placed. Our captain informed us that the rebel Maoris, on one of their midnight excursions to search for powder which might have been washed ashore from the wreck of the Orpheus, in a fit of dare devilry ascended the cliff and cut down the flagstaff at the pilot station with a saw they had procured at a deserted homestead, and then decamped without doing further damage, or waking the guard, who far exceeded them in number. One more slight digression, in the shape of an anecdote related by a party who was present. Two white men and a Maori were strolling up the beach, when they discovered the dead bodies of some of the unfortunate sailors, which had been washed ashore from the wreck before mentioned, greatly decomposed. There was no cemetery within reach, so procuring some tools they dug graves for them on the spot, and were about to cover them up, when the Maori said, ‘ Hold on, make prayer first.' The white men could not at the moment think of anything applicable, and ridiculed the idea, but their darker brother immediately knelt down, threw oft' his hat, and uttered in broken English that grandest and simplest oration in our collection, ‘The Lord's Prayer.’ The rough bnshmen allowed that they never felt more touched at anything in their life than at the simple faith of this Maori. They had been accustomed to hold missionaries in contempt, and deny that they worked any good among the natives, but after this lesson from one of their pupils they never allowed anyone in their presence to make fun of those worthy men. But to return to the Stormbird. While feasting my eyes on the scenery I have been trying to describe, an animated and melodious voice behind me exclaimed, ‘Oh, Alice, we are just in time ! I would not miss this sight for worlds ! How awfully lovely !’ This word was here used in its true sense as expressing a sensation of awe as well as beauty—for the concomitant of danger was most ceitainly present in the furiously tolling breakers—not as it is used by so many young ladies of the present day, to hide the paucity of their adjectives.

I immediately looked round, and beheld two of the ladies I had noticed coming down the wharf enveloped in wraps. They had now discarded them as the day had become warmer, and appealed on deck in neat fitting travelling dresses, which showed the outlines of their graceful and well developed figures to perfection. They were evidently sisters.

‘ Yes, Fanny, it is lovely, but the sea is very rough. It must be rather dangerous.’ ‘ That is the beauty of it. Ido love to overcome danger.’ The flush of colour which suffused her almost dusky brow, the rise and fall of her shapely bosom, the flash of undaunted courage from an eye which made me quail as I met its bright glance, and the manner in which her whole form appeared to dilate with the idea of danger, all showed that in her was blended the blood of a once savage race with that of our own. lat once perceived that these young ladies were half castes, the elder sister, Fanny, showing even more of the attributes of her dark-skinned parent than the younger, although she undoubtedly was by far the most lovely girl. What amazed me most was that I noticed a quaint but pronounced likeness to my father in both the young ladies. Failing, of course, to see the least reason for it, I dismissed the idea from my mind, and stood spellbound watching with much pleasure the intense enjoyment Miss Fanny appeared to experience as she clung to the rigging, her hat blown off, and now far behind us on a voyage of its own, her profusion of dark lustrous hair flying m the breeze, having escaped all control of pins and ribbons, her red, full lips parted with a rapturous expression, which did not leave them when an extra heavy roller, threatening instant dissolution, came in contact with our vessel, and made her timbers creak and groan, as if grieving at their fate in having been removed from their quiet home in the bush to be launched on this troubled sea.

The captain's face paled, as he feared another such shock would entirely annihilate us. The other such shock, however, was spared us, and by strictly adhering to the rules, and being guided by the painted beacons on the hill-sides, we at last safely negotiated the bar, and arrived in what, after our recent experience, we considered smooth water, although, under other circumstances, it would have been a great stretch of imagination to so term it. The beacons before mentioned are placed so that by keeping those on one cliff in a line for a certain distance, then tinning ami adhering to the course indicated by others on another hill, the mariner can steer a course of comparative safety. If these rules are not strictly followed it is a case of smash, not everlasting, but of a very limited duration. Breakfast was now announced. The bar, however, had economically obviated the necessity of both breakfast and dinner as far as the greater portion of our passengers was con-

cerned. < >ne young fellow said, with a ghastly smile, that he considered it a sacrilege to eat when his son! had been satisfied with such • heavingly scenery.’ The suffering the poor fellow had undergone must have wrung this atrocious play of words out of him, so we forebore to punish him. The two young ladies, who proved splendid sailors, myself, and the officers of the ship were all that sat down to the abundant meal spread before us. The keen sea air and the excitement we had experienced enabled us to do full justice to the tempting viands.

I am aware that, according to all preconceived notions, it was by no means correct of me to be capable of despatching a hearty breakfast, for I had undoubtedly fallen violently in love that morning, and this proceeding is popularly supposed to destroy the appetite. < in me, however, it never bad that effect. I could always manage a good substantial meal. This peculiarity, I doubt not, enabled me to bear its vicissitudes with greater composure. Be this as it may, I was rendered supremely happy, first bysecuring a seat next my divinity, and secondly by a sudden roll of the vessel causing her to spill a portion of her coffee over my unmentionables. To bear her apologies, to feel the soft touch of her band, as with her delicate handkerchief she in vain endeavoured to remove the stains, was almost too much bliss. I remember the instance as vividly as if it occurred yesterday, the more especially as on looking over a lot of old curiosities in the secret drawer of an old desk, amongst withered flowers, faded ribbons, ai d the usual contents of such a receptacle, I discovered—l blush to mention it, fair reader—a small remnant of coff ecoloured tweed. The remainder of the garment aforesaid, which had not been invested with a charm by the touch of that fair hand, was subsequently presented by me to my uncle’s stockman, who, after replacing the abstracted portion with a piece of sheepskin, made them do good service in saddle and stockyard, and eventually clothed with them a venerable scareciow set np in the garden. Such is life ! I much fear I shall suffer in the estimation of my readers by the facility with which I succumbed to feminine charms, and the length of time, by my own confession, that I retained possession of my love tokens, not to mention the peculiarity of one of them. However, I cannot help it. 1 must plead guilty, if guilt there be, to having been a most impressionable youth. My fiist proposal was uttered, as we emerged from the bath in the simplicity of attire which Adam and Eve affected before they made themselves aprons, to a fair cousin. Our combined ages at the time would perhaps have totalled eight years, but certainly not more. CHAPTER VIII. A SIGHT OF MOUNT EGMONT. After the felicitous introduction at the breakfast table I improved my opportunities. It is true I was a bashful youth, yet when circumstances placed me in the society and good graces of ladies the disagreeable sensation soon wore oft. In the present instance it took longer than usual to do so, and I am painfully aware that my conversation was at first remai kably disjointed and ridiculous. The time, however, passed most delightfully until we arrived in sight of New Plymouth, a quaint little township nestling under the majestic Mount Egmont, with its bush-clad slopes and cloud-capped summit. ‘ Veritably,’ I thought, ‘my lines are east in pleasant places,’ as my eyes turned from the brief contemplation of this characteristic sample cf the scenery of my adopted country back to the entrancing loveliness of my fair companion. I noticed, as we approached the town, the absence of anything like a wharf, and inquired how passengers managed to land. ‘ By surf boats, to be sure. Y’ou’ll see one put out directly.’ ‘ Is it possible that a boat could live in such a sea?’ ‘Well, it certainly is very rough to-day from the effects of the late gale, but I heard the ancient milliner say she must land, and look, here comes the boat.’ And sure enough, through the heaving surf the boat appeared, now plainly visible on the summit of a gigantic roller, then lost to sight in the trough of the angry sea, propelled by the strong arms of four powerfully-built young fellows with a weather-beaten old tar in the stern. As the milliner appeared on deck—she had hitherto kept her cabin—the captain strongly recommended her not to venture to land. ‘ You had far better come on to Wanganui, and I will land you on our return journey ; it will be much calmer then. As it is I wouldn’t land myself.’ ‘ Oh, but I must, captain ! If 1 don't Miss Jones will get all my custom. I positively must, though I am certainly in a great fright.’ ‘ Well, if you must, you must. No good arguing with ladies when they’ve made up their minds, but if you’re drowned don’t blame me.’ ‘ How could I if I was drowned, captain? But really do you consider it very dangerous ?’ ‘ Haven't I told you that I wouldn’t land myself. Mind, Miss Jones will get all the custom if you are drowned.’ ‘ But I shouldn’t mind if I wasn’t there to see it. I hardly know what to say.’ Her courage was fast waning, and when she saw the sort of sling in which it would be necessary for her to sit, she would have given in, when some one mischievously remarked, with no intention, however, of causing her to change her mind, ‘ What a fine business Miss Jones has. She'll be delighted if my lady here does not turn up to fulfil her engagements.’ The mention of her adversary renewed her courage, and she seated herself as gracefully as possible in the sling—the possibilities in that direction were extremely limited, it is true —and was hoisted in the air. The man who held the rope was instructed to lower rapidly at a given signal, which would be the exact moment when the boat was brought up under the lady by the rolling waves. The order was given in time, but not instantaneously obeyed. The consequences were disastrous. The boat had been dashed away by the receding wave, and the poor milliner was dipped into the briny ocean. She was again hoisted, and this time made a happier descent, baning that she almost smothered the old man in the stein by dropping fairly on the top of him. ‘ Is it an angel from Hiven ye are ?’ he muttered, gruffly, as he disengaged himself. ‘ They might ’ave dried yer garmints afore they sint ye down, any way.’ After safely landing this unfortunate female and her goods, as well as the mail bags, we proceeded on our journey to Wanganui, and in due time arrived at the entrance to

the river, which bears the same name as the town built on its banks. Being high tide at the time, we steamed in without any delay. Directly the gangway was put out the young ladies stepped ashore. I was about to otter my services as their escort, when some friends joined them and they walked off. It now struck me that I bad been a fool not to have ascertained who they were, and whereabouts they resided. Strange to say, I had not even heard their surname, for the captain always addressed them at table as Miss Fanny and Miss Alice, being on particularly friendlyterms with them after the manner of genial skippers with young lady passengers. Thinking to rectify my mistake, I at once approached him and put the question. * Oh, they are daughters of old What’s-his name. Hang it all, though it's on the tip of my tongue, I can't hit the name this moment. The old boy married the finest looking Maori gal in Wanganui,’ and he hurried off to attend to some business, leaving me no wiser than before. I was about to make further inquiries, when I considered my uncle would know all about them, so I troubled no more on the subject than to hope they would prove near neighbours. Wanganui is a remarkably picturesque little town. The only objection to it as a place of residence was at that time the presence of several sand-hills within the city boundaries. Shrse were made the sport of the strong winds, which often prevailed, and proved very unpleasant to any of the unlucky citizens who were abroad. I believe this nuisance has greatly abated of late years by the removal of some of these nronnds. and the fixin" of others by means of the cultivation of binding grasses and plants. I strolled up Victoria Avenue, entered the best hotel I could see, and ordered dinner. After despatching it I inquired of the landlord if he knew a gentleman of the name of Melton anywhere about.

‘Jimmy Melton? rather! exclaimed mine host. ‘He has a run eight or ten miles from heie. A fine old fellow he is, too. I thought he would have been down to-day, but he hasn't turned up.’ ‘ Well, he is my uncle, and I have to get to his place somehow. Any coaches running up that way ?’ ‘ Your uncle, you say ? I am delighted to make your acquaintance, sir. No, sir, no coaches, but I’ll find you a saddle horse in ten minutes if you wish it.’ ‘ Very well, do so by all means, and a good one, mind.’ ‘ Never fear, sir. I don’t doubt, like your uncle, you know a good horse when yon see one, and what's more, can ride ’em, too. Bless your life, I would as soon think of fly ing as of giving Jimmy Melton’s nephew a quiet old screw to ride.’

He went out to order the horse, and shortly appeared with a groom leading a remarkably handsome black cob, a regular picture, round as a barrel, clean, supple limbs, head well set on and neat, short ears, which he constantly pricked alternately backward and forward, and Hashing eyes—a horse evidently of a nervous, excitable temperament, but one who, with a cool, quiet rider, would carry one from daylight to dark without whip or spur. ‘ There’s a lively bit of stuff, sir. Your uncle bred him, and he'll carry you to the very door. I bought him for my own riding, and never let him out except to your uncle and one or two particular friends who can ride.’ * Does he buck ?’ I asked, for although a good English cross country rider, I had never experienced the sensation of buck-jumping, which in its true significance is peculiar to colonial horses. Those of Australian breed are most Sroficient in the art. You meet a few really good ones in lew Zealand, but not many. One constantly heats young fellows affirm that their horses are terrors at bucking, but in nine cases out of ten the true designation of this preiformance would be pig-jumping. I shall describe in a future page my first acquaintance with the real article. * Lor, no sir ! he don't buck.* replied the gioom. ‘He's only a bit gay and hard to bold.’

I mounted, and certainly my first ex|«rience of a New Zealand saddle horse was a very pleasant one. He took me along at a gallop the best part of the way, and seemed insulted if I pulled him into a walk, for he was soon off again of his own accord. His praces were delightfully easy, bis stride long and swinging. I had received directions, and before I dreamt that I bad achieved half the distance the cob voluntarily came to a standstill at a gate, which I Knew must be the entrance to my uncle s property. I rode through, and passing over a fine piece of pasture land, came to a stock yaid. A rough-looking old fellow, who was evidently doing something with the cattle, looked round as I approached. He was attired in a blue serge shirt stuffed into a pair of moleskin pants, which in their turn were tucked into the toprs of a pair of dirty-looking riding boots. A billy cock hat and a pair of rusty spurs completed his outfit. ‘ Is the boss at home?’ I shouted to him, to try and appear colonial. * Yes, the boss is at home. Who are you ?’ ‘ That is not your business. Where is your master?’ ‘I haven’t met him yet,’returned he. This was incomprehensible to me. ‘ Come, my good man,' I said, ‘ here’s a bob to drink my health. Tell me where the boss is?’ He took the coin I offered, and pocketed it with a broad grin, then said rather stiffly, • Well, if you really want to know I guess I'm boss here. What do von want with me, eh ?’ Conceive my surprise. I had expected to find a fairly well dressed and refined-looking old gentleman instead of the sort of man I saw before me. However, I quietly recovered myself. ‘Oh, you are my unele Jim, are you, sir?' I remarked calmly. ‘ That depends whether you are worth recognizing. An

unmitigated young blackguard, I expect, like I was when I came out. However, we ll chance it. Here goes,' and he grasped me warmly by the hand. ‘We did nt expect you yetawhile, Frank. Why didn't you w rite and let us know ? We'd have met you then.’ ‘ Father did write and told you when I sailed,’ I answered. ‘ Never got the letter, then. Thought it rum I didn't hear.’ ‘ Well, I’m certain he wrote.’ Long afterwards it was discovered that the letter was never posted. The careless boy to whom it was entrusted lost it, and was too frightened to admit it. After mutual inquiries the old gentleman remarked : ‘ Oh, you'll do. I'll soon knock you into shape. We’re mustering and branding, so you’re right in it, my boy. We ll see how you can ride to morrow.’ ‘ I shan’t be much amiss at that, uncle. I’ve followed the hounds for four seasons.’

‘ Heading wild cattle is different to following the hounds, my boy,’ he replied.

I now handed him some letters which the postmaster, hearing at the hotel I was bound for my uncle’s, bad asked me to deliver. He opened one immediately, atd afier perusing it exclaimed : • What steamer did you come by ? The Stormbird, wasn't

• Yes, uncle.’ ‘ Why, here's this letter. I ought to have received it a week ago. My daughters say they’ll be down to-day. Were there any ladies on board ?’

‘ No white ones,' I replied, and at the thought of one of my travelling companions I was by no means white either, for I found, to my disgust, I was blushing like a school girl. ‘ \Y hat then ?’ he queried, sharply. ‘ Why, there were two Maori, or rather half caste, girls on board. Bather nice looking, too.’ Rather nice looking ! This was a very mild version of my real opinion. ■ Rather nice looking girls, eh?’ • Well, yes, they were very decent looking, and they seemed to have some idea of civilized life, too. I talked to them a little. They must have had a good-looking father, for the Maori women I saw in Auckland were hideous. I can't think how any white man could marry them, but 1 suppose it’s only the lower class who do.' I rambler! on like this to hide my confusion at the thought of the girl who had made such an impression on me, but I was far more confounded at my uncle’s next remark. ‘ Quite right, my boy,’ in his most sarcastic tone. ‘ < »nly the lower classes do such a thing. I guess, though, those young ladies are your cousins. I am glad you consider them decent-looking. So they- have some idea of civilized life! And you think their father must be good looking ! It's grand to have the approval of a puppy like you.’ ‘ Oh, uncle, forgive me. We never heard you were married. and how could I guess they were your daughters ? ‘ Well, I’ll forgive you this time. Take my advice, boy. Don’t talk about the habits of life in a country you know nothing about. I never bothered to tell them at home I was married. You couldn't know.’ • Wheie is my aunt, Mrs Melton, then ? in the house, I presume.’

‘ No, nor in her grave neither, though she’s dead

‘ Good heavens I what can he mean ?’ I thought. ‘ I supprose she's only just dead, and isn't buried yet. Oh, uncle, lam so sorry for your loss. When does the funeral take place?' I replied not knowing what to say. ‘ Funeral take place—never !’ said the stern ok! man, and I noticed a tear in his eye, which I doubt was very rarelymoistened that way. ‘I tell you she’s dear!. Dead ! yes, and her bones scraped. She begged 'em not to. I did my Irest to stop it, but it was no good. The chief of the tribe wouldn't let her off'. But, he continued, with a heavysigh, * I'm forgetting the girls. I must Ire off' to meet them. They'll be expecting me. Ob, here's your bob, Frank,' handing it back. ‘lt rather hurt nry dignity to be offered money to drink your health.' The old gentlemans countenance relapsed into a sardonic grin. ‘ Halloo, Kewi, old troy. You want to be taken notice of, do you?’ he exclaimed, as the cob would be restrained no longer, but started rubbing his nose against his old master's coat. ‘ That's the way we breed ’em here, Frank. Grand cob, isn't he? Worth a hundred and fifty any day in the English market.’ As I was rather tired, I did not offer to go with my uncle to Wanganui, although I was very anxious to meet my fair shipmates in this new character as cousins. I happened to mention to uncle that I hail not heard their names on board, and I did not think they had heard mine. ‘ I 11 have some fun with ’em then,’ he said. ‘ Tell 'em you came a week or so ago. Won t they stare when they see you're the cousin ?' I followed him up to the house, a comfortable, roomy, single storied one, with a verandah on three sides, on to which most of the rooms o|>ened with French windows. It was built on a gentle rise, and afforded an extended view of the stir: o rnding country. My uncle shouted for Charlie, who turned out to Ire another cousin, a nice-looking boy of fourteen, but of darker com

p'exion than his sisters. ‘ Here's your new chum cousin, Charlie. Show him where to put the cob, then tell Tim to put the two chestnuts in the waggon. Your sisters are come. I must be off for them. Take care of Frank.’

Charlie took my horse, and exchanger! greetings with him as an old friend. I then watched them catch ami harness the chestnuts. They were evidently well bred, but grooming appeared a luxury to which they were little accustomed, as their tails nearly swept the ground. The vehicle was a light American express waggon, fitted with seats moveable at will, so that it would answer either for passengers or luggage. The harness was strong, but remarkably light and simple, consisting solely of bridles, collars, traces, reins, and prole straps. I'ncle Jim appearer! ready for tire road. He had thrown

off his stockyard attire, and I now noticed in him a strong likeness to my father. There was, of course, the natural <lifferen.-e of appearance between the bronzed and heavilybearded stock-owner, who was out in all weathers, under sometimes an almost tropical sun, and the English clergyman. who, except when he happened to take his gun (for he was fond of shooting , always carried an umbrella to shield him from the rain, or excessive rays of the sun on hot summer days. I could now plainlv understand the resemblance which had so puzzled me between the two sisters and my father. My uncle jumped into the conveyance, seized the reins, and shouting to Tim to let go the horses’ heads, they were off like a shot, with a rear and plnnge which threatened the traces. We then returned to tfie house and had tea, Charlie entertaining me with stories of his own and his friend's adventures and prowess, such as feats of horsemanship, cattle mastering, pig-hunting, and purchases, sales, and exchanges of horses or dogs. This conversation, much as I longed to partake of these amusements, became at length very monotonous, and I wished it was bed time, so that I could quietly think over my extraordinary good fortune in finding myself possessed of a cousin for I confess my thoughts confined themselves toone of such desirablecharms. Charlie had remarked that they were snre to be at a friend s, who would keep them till late, so that they could not return till near midnight. I therefore made up my mind to retire, and see them to more advantage in the morning. They would be very tired, and it would be more considerate on my part to defer the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance. CHAPTER IX. THE WRONG ROOM, AND WHAT I HEARD IN IT. < >N awaking I found the glorious sunshine of a New Zealand spring morning pouring into my window-, and I at first began to wonder where I was, when the subdued tones of some sweet female voices brought me to my bearings. The voices were, of course, thereof my cousins Now, although I, as a general rule, am above listening to conversations not meant for my ear, yet I think the reader will allow that in the present case the temptation was too great to be resisted, so I lay as still as a mouse. The partitions in some of these old wooden houses were very thin, and unless the tones are particularly low the voice can he easily heard in the next room. As will hereafter appear, my cousins had not the remotest idea that anyone was sleeping in the apartment I occupied. Alice’s voice was the first I distinguished. 1 1 wonder what the new chum cousin will be liked' ‘ Oh, a regular duffer, I expect. All new chums are.’ ‘ How about that tall young fellow on the Stormbird that you spilt your coffee over, eh? He was a new-chum, wasn't he ?’ l Ah : he was a plum. He's the exception to the rule, and Mr Grosvenor is another. They are the only two new chums I ever met that were any good.' ‘ Well, I didn't think much of the tall gentleman,’ returned Alice, mischievously. ‘ Didn't you ? I fell in love with him at first sight. He was a darling.’

‘ Fell in love with him, did you ' what about the baronet's son in Auckland ? Is he forgotten already? It is well to be off with the old love before vou are on with the new.’

‘ Forgotten ? no. It does not do to forget a baronet's son travelling for pleasure for a young fellow who has to work hard for a living.' ‘ Ab, but Fanny, love in a cottage with him might be better than travelling for “ pleashaw ' with Mr Grosvenor.’ ‘ I don't know. It would be grand to be Lady Grosvenor some day, and go and see the old country with all its wonders, and live in a castle. Still, lam not certain that you are not right. He just was a darling.' My feelings here got the better of me, and I could not help giving a sort of estatic grunt to save exploding altogether, ‘ What was that noise? Surely old Jane never put Frank in that room. She must have known that he was to have the little room the other end of the house when he did come. It must have been a mouse.' ‘ Well, even if he was there, which he can t be, he would not have heard anything about himself except that you called him a duffer?' ‘ Hasn't he, though,' thought I. ‘ That's all you know about it ; quite enough to satisfy him, any way. Feeling convinced it was a mouse they had heard, they continued their conversation. ‘Ah. well ! I wish he had come down with us in the Stormbird instead of last week, as papa said. I should have had someone to amuse me while you were engrossed with vour tall friend, said Alice.

‘ Yes, I wish he had. You would have been quite welcome to him for me. Ido wish I had found out where my last victim was going. I didn't even hear his name. He didn't volunteer the information, and 1 didn't like to ask him. I don't as much know whether he was going to remain at Wanganui.’ • < >h, I expect he will, but it doesn't matter. You'll have Mr Grosvenor down shortly. I heard him tell you he should follow you down. Do you know, Fanny, I cannot bear him. I was only joking when I said I did not like the tall young fellow. I think him far preferable to the baronet’s son. You remember our friends, the Grahams, in Auckland, where we met him, said they did not quite know what to make of him : that he was introduced to them by an acquaintance. who admitted he had only know-n him very slightly, having just met him a few days before, when he landed, for he had only been in Auckland a very short time. I don t like you making such a friend of a gentleman you have only met two or three times." • i >h, I know all about that, but I am certain he is what he says. You are far too suspicious of strangers, Alice. But come along, we must hurry down and lay the breakfast table.'

With this they left the room, having evidently finished tbeir toilettes. My sensations, as I thought over what I had heard, were varied. I was very vexed to think my cousins had met Grosvenor. Was he coming in my way again with his specious tongue, and what the ladies appeared to consider his fascinating tranner ? If so, should Ibe able to get the better of him as I had done on board ship? If there were any mutinies about I might, but without some similar chance of showing our re*p>ective mettles I might find a difficulty If I related the scene there would be only my wool against his, for ha would doubtless swear that he worked wonders. I really could not prove that he is not

what he pretends, although I have grave suspicions. Even simple little Alice seems to have doubts about him. There must be something wrong about the cur. However, I determined to trust to luck. It was a great advantage her being a cousin, and I should ~ee far more of her than he would, being always in the same house. I was a fool to be fearful of the result, but I had a very humble opinion of my qualifications for gaining the affections, or even esteem, of the other sex. 1 felt I was not a ladies' man. I had not the self-confident manner and outward address which appear to go so far in securing the favour of the desired object. I could now hear Fanny’s lovely voice, as she flitted about her household duties singing an old song, always a great favourite of As I entered the breakfast room she was trilling the words, * Her bright smile haunts me still' in her rich, melodious tones. ‘ Yes, my dear Miss Fanny, you are right, it does haunt me still, I exclaimed, and, to my great surprise—for am I not naturally a bashful man?—l positively gave her such a shower of cousinly salutes that her song was instantly checked. Nor was this the only consequence of my rash act. for with a wild, fierce look in her sparkling dark eyes, which only appeared when she considered herself insulted, she returned my fire by a storm of most uncousinly blows on my devoted ears with "her delicate hands. ‘ How dare you take such a liberty, sir? 11l teach you manners,’ she exclaimed, when she eould find words. ' I always thought that sort of thing was correct when cousins met. is it not f Her look of surprise was grand—which of her looks was not ? ‘ What, are you our cousin Frank? I had not the remotest idea, and you never told me. although we travelled all the way from Auckland together.' • But, my dear cousin,' I answered, ‘how could I tell vou when I didn't even know that my uncle had been married, or that I bad any cousins in New Zealand, till he told me himself last night ? Then I never happened to hear your name on board.’ ‘We did not know yours either. However, ‘'airs well that ends well; ” but I must say you have a nice way of introducing yourself to a new cousin.’

* Well,' I replied, colouring even more than she did. • I thought it very nice, at least p>art of it, and I am glad you enjoyed it, too.' ‘Now. Master Frank, you are a cool one. Yon know very well that is not what"l meant.’ ‘ I may appear cool to you. Fanny, but in reality I am awfully hot, especially here,’ continued I, feeling my ears dolefully. ‘Your style of introduction did not anything like come up to mine.’ ‘ M hat could I do when a gentleman I considered but a three days’ acquaintance insulted me in such a manner? I can't quite forgive you yet, though you are my cousin.' Then suddenlyremembering that I had not spoken a word to Alice, I turned to her to pursue my method of saluting cousins, but whether it was that my effort lacked energy inthis case, or that the young lady was prepared, I only succeeded in brushing my lips against her back hair, as she slipped from my grasp and left the room—to call them to breakfast, she said. In this case I was not disappointed at my ill success. Alice shortly returned and whispered some words to Fanny, causing her to colour deeply and cast a glance at me, lowering her eyes again instantly. ■ How did you sleep. Frank?’ was her next remark. ‘ I fear not well. By some mistake you were put in the wrong room. Did we disturb vou when we came home ?’

‘ No, not in the least. I slept splendidly, only waking up as I heard you singing in the breakfast room. I then jumped up and dressed in a great hurry." I hope this wilful perversion of the truth will be forgiven me. It effected its object, and put the young ladies at their ease at once.

• Oh, did you ? I'm glad of that," looking with a glance of relief at Alice. It's so very unpleasant to pass a wakeful night.’

Charlie and his father now came in desperately hungry. They had been out making arrangements for the day's mustering. In a very few minutes a sumptuous breakfast was on the table, and we all did it full justice. • Now, girls, get on your habits. I suppose you want to see the fun. Going to muster the cattle on the ijlack ranges. A pretty wild lot. Frank says he can ride. He'll know better to-night. I brought up your traps, Frank. Don't bother to open them this morning.' ‘ I'll just get out my saddle and bridle ; it won t take a minute. ’

‘ Charlie, go and help Tim run in the horses. 11l be ready by the time they're saddled.’ We all left the room. I went to get my saddle unpacked. While so engaged Charlie came rushing up convulsed with laughter. ‘ I have just been catching it," he said ; ‘ it’s such a lark. The girls had fixed that when you did come, though we didn't expect you for a month or two, you were to have another room, but knowing they’d be chattering about you in the morning, and thinking you'd like to hear what they had got to say, I told old Jane to put you in there. Just now they asked her where she put you, and when she told them they were in such a funk. That’s why they asked how you slept. They said when you went out they were so glad you slept so well, you could not have overheard them. But as they hammered me for my little joke, I told them you were cramming them, and that you had overheard all they said.’

‘ Y'ou young scamp, yon ! I'll hammer you for telling such lies as that.’

‘ Y’ou've got to catch me first, though,' said he, darting out of the room, and with a bound he sprang on the back of a horse which was standing by the verandah, and was off like a dart down the paddock for the other horses.

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