NEW ZEALAND STORIES.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLV, Issue 23, 7 December 1910, Page 50

NEW ZEALAND STORIES.

TIDES.

Second Prize Story at the Auckland Competitions. Written by MISS L». M. EASTGATE, Carltcn Gore-road, Auckland,

[77ic Editor desires to announce that New Zealand Stories by New Zealand writers, will be published on this page regularly. The page will be open to any contributor, and all accepted stories will be paid for at current rates. Terse, bright sketches of Dominion life and people, woven in short story form, are required, and should be headed “Neu> Zealand Stories.”}

ICK REYNOLDS putting through I ■ the hours of a stifling tropical J night on his verandah, with the aid of a hammock and unlimited tobacco, raised his head to hear more clearly a sound that crept into the stillness that, blended with the heat, seemed to brood heavily over plantation and river alike. Very far off. it rose and fell more like a throb in the air than a definite sound, and only a practised ear could know it for the rhythmic beat of oars. The tide was running out swiftly, and in Dick’s opinion a man who would make his boat’s crew row up stream against it in the dead hours of the night must either be a fool or in desperate need of something further up the river. “ He’ll have had enough of it by the time he makes this reach, and will want to bunk here,” soliloquised Dick, dropping back into the hammock and lighting a fresh cigarette. Half an hour later the dogged beat of the oars drew into the landing, and Dick went down to meet a man who was stumbling wearily up to the house. At sight of the owner he stopped short. “ Sorry to disturb you,’’ he began hurriedly. II Don’t mention it.” returned Dick, equably. “ I was trying to keep cool on the verandah. You. 1 imagine, are doing the reverse. Anything wrong?” “I must get up to my plantation without a minute’s loss of time,” said the other feverishly. Dick shrugged his shoulders. ‘'You won’t do it against the tide with a erew of tired Fijians,” he returned cnrtly. “That is the reason I stopped here.” Baid the other man. “ The men say they are played out. You must let me have a fresh crew—you must. There is trouble with the mountaineers, and only that fool Smith with Dorith.” He caught his breath, and put both hands over his eyes, as though to shut out something.

Reynolds saw that the man Lal reached his limit, and spoke sharply to get some-thing-to act on before his informant collapsed. “ Tell me what you mean and where you want to get to. What is the trouble with the mountaineers’” The man looked at him vaguely. “'Native trouble—the mountaineers working on my place will take advantage of it—you know what they are—they would club you as soon as look at you—and that poor girl is alone up there ” he caught Reynolds fiercely by the arm. “What are you keeping me here for? I must go up for Dorith—l must Dick caught him as he swayed, and half carried him to the verandah where he bestowed him on the floor, while he considered the situation. “What on earth’s the matter with the man?” ‘he wondered. “ He’s badly seared, but that oughtn’t to do for him like this, even if he has been travelling night and day. He’s no present use —that’s certain.” He frowned thoughtfully as he studied the apparently unconscious man by the light of a lamp which he had fetched from within. The newcomer was slight and young, and Reynolds noted with pity the absolute exhaustion in every line of face and figure. He put down the lamp and called to the native crew, who had made the boat fast and had then thrown themselves on the ground near by. Reynolds questioned them closely, and made out that their master had gone down to the little capital town of Fiji a week or so before, and while there had been taken ill. For some reason, of -which they were ignorant, he had left his sick bed and started for home in frantic haste, urging his crew to desperate speed—even grudging them a moment’s respite for food, with the present result. The men declared themselves incapable of further effort, and their master was evidently too ill to have anv voice in the matter. Reynolds put

him in his own bed, and made him as comfortable as it was possible for a very sick man to be. From what the natives said he made out his unexpected guest to be one Chambers, a newcomer, who had lately bought a plantation some distance further up the river. Reynolds, who was not gregarious by nature, seldom troubled to make acquaintance with his few-and-far-between neighbours, and hence knew nothing of this man and his affairs. “ Dorith,” he imagined, must be Chambers’ wife, young though he looked. He had evidently heard something in the capital to arouse fears for her safety. Reynolds thought it very probable that the new chum's fears were unfounded, but he was not the man to take any risks when a woman’s need was in question. It was an astounding thing to him that Chambers should have left his wife on a lonely plantation under any circumstances, and methodically he made his arrangements, and, with the turn of the tide, swung out from the landing in his own boat, manned by a picked crew. There was a touch of freshness in the air now. and the broad river showed whitish-grey in the half light of early morning. Reynolds, who, though he thought he was probably on a wild goose .chase, always welcomed a boat journey as a break in the routine of plantation life, gave himself up to the pleasure of a possible adventure. For a while he sat and steered in peaceful enjoyment, watching the half-tones strengthen into broad lights, and the reeds on the river bank sway and dip with the freshening breeze into the now silvering water. After a while he became restless withput understanding why. His thoughts steadily set towards the up-river business, and the conviction came to him that the need was pressing. He was puzzled and half angry at the persistence of the thought, for he was not easily influenced, but presently he was giving the rowers an order, and the steady

■wing of the oars increased to a rapid ope. The tide was coming in strongly, and, at the present speed of the boat, the banks appeared to be sliding by with kaleidoscopical rapidity. Reynolds never glanced at them,: but, rudder in hand, sat leaning forward, his whole being contentrated on the* desire of seeing the end of a long reach of the river in which they were. Just beyond, round the turnp (was Chambers’ plantation. What he f-hould meet there Reynolds did not (know, but that something awaited hint lie did know in a curious clear fashion that he did not attempt to analyse. He was a strong-character, and so obeyed a strong force when it was set loose without beating against the current. / There was no landing formed at Chambers' plantation, but Reynolds steered his boat in to where the bank had been cleared of reeds. -.Telling his men to stay where they were, he turned to find his way to the house. Reaching the top of the bank, he stood, momentarily arrested, while a low whistle escaped his lips. In front of the house—a small wooden one with a thatched roof —swarmed a mob of Fijians, and Fijians ripe for mischief, as Reynolds could plainly see. He went coolly on, until he reached them, and, with a curt “Sa yadra’’ (good day), proceeded to walk through them. They were so taken by surprise that he was almost at the verandah steps before they made a move, and then a man stepped in front of him. Reynolds turned on him so swiftly that he instinctivey shrank back, and the white man quietly mounted the verandah, and joined a girl who was standing there beside a grey-haired nervous-looking man, who was speaking excitedly to the Fijians. In. his hand he held a revolver, with which he was threatening to shoot the first man who came any nearer. Reynolds could see that he made little impression on the natives. The speaker was obviously lacking in force of character, for which words are merely a medium, and, however furious his speech might be, it fell thin and powerless. Reynolds turned to the girl, whose face was colourless, but whosq grey eyes met his steadily. “Can you give me an idea what the trouble is?” he asked. “I am not very clear myself,” she returned. “I have not been here long enough to learn the language. They quarrelled with Mr Smith about their wages, I think, and they want to help themselves from the trade goods.” “Where are they?” asked Reynolds. “In a small room in the house here. Oh, they mustn't get them—Jack couldn’t afford it. I told Mr Smith on no account to give way.” Reynolds looked at her in involuntary admiration. She showed such unconscious courage, and for the sake of the man who had left her. practically alone, to face such risks as the present one. He felt savage as he looked from her brave face to the insolent dark ones crowding round the ramshackle little house that was her home. His lips tightened, as he thought of their getting

into the house, and, turning, he saw that Smith was rapidly making matters worse. The natives were openly jeering at him, and pressing closer in. Reynolds laid hi. hand on the overseer s arm. “You had better let me tackle this job,” he said grimly. ‘‘They are getting right out of hand.” Smith glanced at him impatiently. "You don’t know what you are talking about. They have been working under me—a stranger would have no influence whatever with them.” ’’Not* returned Reynolds, quietlv. ‘•Well, I am not going to have those natives rush this house if I can help it, so you will kindly stop talking. Do you understand?” he repeated, sharply. “Stop talking ’’ He put out his hand quickly towards Smith, for he saw that the man, then completely off his balance, was going to precipitate matters—but he was too late. Smith ran forward, hurling out a string of threats and insults at the angry Fijians, and, raising his revolver, appeared to take deliberate aim. There was a spring—a scuffle—followed by a report, and when two Fijians sprang away. Smith lay still on the ground. Reynolds turned sharply to the girl, anil the stony horror of her face struck him like a blow. "Go inside the house,” he said, in quick command. She shook her head and took a quick breath. “I am going to stay here.” There was not a second to lose, and Reynolds knew it. "Do as I tell you,” he flashed out - at her. She looked at him, and then turned and went into the house. Reynolds gave a quick backward look as she disappeared, and the next instant made a spring, and, with a rapid movement of his clenched right hand, sent a big Fijian sprawling. The white man faced the natives with blazing eyes—" That’s the first,” he said, grimly. "For the next who tries to step on this verandah—” he quietly took his revolver out of his pocket. They had laughed at the other mans threats —they were instantly arrested by those of this one. Drawing back, they commenced a low toned conversation among themselves. Reynolds, revolver in hand, went down and bent over Smith. As he expected, he was quite dead. In the scuffle his own revolver had gone off and killed him instantaneously.. Reynolds turned a very stern face on the watching Fijians and went back to the verandah. "What have you to say about this man’s death?” he asked gravely. Some of them shrugged their shoulders indifferently, and one, turning to the other, said insolently,"This man is not master here.” “What are we waiting for?” come and take the stuff” "We can make his gun shoot him as the other man’s did.” Reynolds set his teeth. The thought that he stood single-handed between the girl inside and that mob of insolent savages stung him like a whip lash. Backing to the doorway he stood there, and though he could not look round he said quietly, in English, "Come and stand near me. and be ready to do what 1 tell you.” There was no reply, but before he had time to wonder why. the natives swarmed the verandah and he just had time to draw his revolver as they gained the steps. He shot the first man dead and the others fell back, for the white man was standing in the doorway where they could not spring at him in a body, ami the sight of their dead companion was disconcerting. The next instant the sharp tattoo of a la-li rang out, “What the deuce is that? ’ muttered Reynolds. Again and again it beat the air—a persistent note of alarm. The leader among the natives spoke to a man who turned and disappeared round the back of the house. Reynolds heard a breathless voice behind him. "Can you keep them back a few minutes? I have just re- ‘ membered the Polynesian labour. They are cutting cane a few fields back.” Reynolds started, though he did not turn. "Did you go out of the house to beat that la-li?” “Yes,” she answered, quietly. “Good heavens! I thought you were safe behind me.” There was a laugh that was half a sob, and he went on quickly. “What island are your Polynesians from?” “Tanna.” He drew a long breath. “I expect you saved the situation, they are furious fighters, and there is no love lost between them and the Fijians. Here they come.” He gave a low laugh of delight, for 'the Tanna men came -round the house like a hurricane, their wicked*

looking cane knives in their hands. Fi- • jians are brave, but it takes more than raw courage to steady a mob against a furious and unexpected onslaught. They wavered for one minute, and then broke and fled ‘ incontinently, as they saw that their assailants outnumbered them. They made for the river, and the Tanna men were on the point of pursuing them with yells of delight when Reynolds, with a sharp word of command, called them back. Soon the water was dot ted with the A heads of the fleeing mountaineers, and! Reynolds had hard work restraining hisß men from breaking away and following" the enemy into the water. They were sorely disappointed at missing the expected fight, and volunteered to watch the house throughout the night in case the Fijians returned. Reynolds agreed, although he did not anticipate a return of the enemy. The sun was setting when Reynolds quietly entered the living room of the house. Dorith knew what he had had to do with the help of the Tanna men that afternoon, and had waited, with shaken nerves but steadfastly quiet, until he returned. She looked up at the strong, tanned face as he came to where she was sitting, and had to remind herself that it had been an unknown face to her before to-day. Sitting down on the edge of the table near her he told her of all the arrangements he had made, and finally that sue could safely leave the house in the care of the Tanna men. He proposed to take her down the river that night, and then, pausing, his lips set in a hard line: “Your husband,” he began with an effort. She stared at him with a face of blank astonishment. “My—what did you say?” He began slowly to repeat his words, and then lifted his bent head and met her eyes. He caught his breath. “What do you mean?” he demanded, almost roughly. “You are Dorith Chambers, wife of the man who came to me last night.” She looked at him with a grave, flushed faee. “I am Dorith Chambers, sister to the man who went to you last night,” she answered, and then looked away, startled at the change that swept over his face. He got off the table, and, going to the door, stood looking at the broad stretch of river in which was now reflected the vivid, changing colours of the tropical sunset, and on which he had been brought by the last tide to do Dorith Chambers’ service, and at the ebb of which he and she would leave the plantation and make their way together to his home. She was going there to nurse her brother, nevertheless the thought thrilled him as an omen. Through the stillness which broods over a primitive land—a stillness unlike any other—came the sound of oars clinking in the rowlocks. Reynolds lookeddown and saw his men preparing the boats for the journey home. Home—he had never before realised tha significance of the simple word as he turned his eyes on the girl who was now standing a't his side. She met his gaze and was held by it, while one could have counted ten. then, with heightened colour, she looked away, but not before she had read the truth in his eyes. What seemed hard to understand was that, , not only did she not resent it from a man whom'she had only met that very day, but the look which he had given her seemed to thrill her through and through. She had to confess to herself '•that this man, with his masterful eyes, which, however, softened wonderfully when they Tested upon her, had the power of moving her strangely, and as he moved a step nearer to her she looked up with a look, half frightened, half pleading, not knowing quite what he would do. He gazed at her for a moment, and then: “The boat is ready .’’.he said, quietly, “and the tide is with us. Will you come?” Without a word she moved to his side, and together they passed down to the waiting boat.

HITCH BEHIND!

Proof that as a shock absorber potatoes are ineffective.