Rambling Recollections.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VII, Issue 6, 1 March 1903, Page 419

Rambling Recollections.

By ROLLINGSTONE

AN OLD IDENTITY

fML- S we sat over a quiet game IMi|l' of poker in the bar parlour, ¥!fyV] and the rosy-faced, genial £js|J: old fellow again scooped ' the pool — he had done so on several other occasions that evening — he called for drinks and smokes, and said he had had enough of it for one night, and added' that it wasn't much fun playing with boys after all. " I'll tell you what, lads," he said afterwards to two of us ; " .I'm riding on home to my station tomorrow. What d'ye say to coming down to dine with me ? I'll show you some shorthorns worth going much farther to see, and my gamecocks can't be beaten in the country."

We were utter strangers to the eld man, never saw him before that •evening, or he us. My friend mentioned the fact in thanking him for his kindness, adding that we valued it the higher on that account.

" No, I certainly don't know you," he replied, " but I jolly soon will. That's why I asked you : I like the look of you, but if I were you I'd give up poker."

As we jogged quietly out of the hotel-yard the next morning my friend remarked that the punchy little pony the old gentleman rode looked hardly up to Ms weight, which was certainly over sixteen stone. He smiled softly to himself, merely uttering the single word, " Taihoa !" We took this for the pony's name, but made a mistake. He was certainly a perfect little picture of a weight-carrier for Iris inches, which were limited in the extreme. He was mouse-coloured, with a black list down his back,

and a neat head ornamented with tiny, ever- twinkling ears. He kept our horses at a jog while he was doing a fair heel and toe walk. The old fellow smiled yet again as he saw our ineffectual attempts to make our nags keep in line with him. without breaking into a jog. Then as we came to a good stretch of fairly level, unmetaled road he spoke again. " Poor walkers, those mokes of yours, boys. It isn't very pleasant for you jogging all the way. I wouldn't own a nag that wasn't a good walker. Can they trot any ?" We assured him that they could, that in short we considered them out and outers at it, and talked of matches they had won, but as we did not wish to distress his pony we didn't mind jogging a bit. The old fellow looked as if lie could hardly believe his ears. "Don't want to what?" he asked. " Distress your pony by riding faster ; we're in no sort of a hurry, and don't mind jogging a bit," repeated my friend. A hearty guffaw burst from the old fellow's lips — the pony's ears played backwards and forwards, faster and faster — the sleek sides of both man and mount shook convulsively. We could swear they were both bubbling over with mirth at our expense. Then they were off like a shot. We followed in the distance ; it was all we could do. Our boasted trotters were nowhere. That chubby little dot of a p©ny could give them five stone, and knock them into a very disreputable old billycock. " Ah, this is all very well for a

half-mile spurt, then we'll have the laugh against the old boy," said I, and we spurred on hopefully. But this little demon trotter never seemed to slacken his speed. He kicked mile after mile behind him in slashing style, never breaking from the trot. It was only by spurring our horses into a gallop and going at racing speed that we could eventually catch him. Then he pulled up, but we had to admit that this pony of his even now obeyed the rein unwillingly. He danced along like a racehorse who has just had his preliminary canter, and wonders when the race is to begin. " Best bit of stuff this side the line, boys/ grunted the old chap complacently. " I never keep bad raw." We readily agreed with him. "We thought we'd seen all sorts of horses before, but had evidently made a mistake. The old gentleman invariably pulled up at every wayside accommodation house we passed. He always required accommodating with either a long beer or a whisky. It was part of his creed. " A man spends his capital in putting up a house on these upcotintry tracks to supply travellers with drink," he said, " and where is he if the travellers won't give him the opportunity ? 1 reckon the man who doesn't stop and take a liquor, even if he isn't extra thirsty, is a mean hound. He's depriving a fel-low-creature of his living. Knocking shingles off the poor fellow's roof, that's just come there to oblige him and his fellow travellers. I'd make it a penal offence — that's what I would ! " Here, landlord, fill these up again !" And the old chap looked fiercely arotund as if to see if any of the delinquents he denounced were within hearing. " Mnd you, boys," he added, mildly, after the order was obeyed, and his share of it had gurgled

down his capacious throat, " I don't advocate drunkenness. It's disgusting. Especially in fellows of your age. But a glass or two taken like this hurts no man." It amused us to notice how careful the old chap was to warn us boys, as he would persist in calling us, though we considered we had passed that stage ages ago. We came to tlie conclusion that there were many in the district of the same creed as our old friend, or that the nature of the road made it an exceedingly thirsty one to travel for houses of call were thicker than usual. After passing a number, and carefully avoiding showing any preference,, in our treatment of them, the old gentleman became still more loquacious. " We shorthorn breeders in New Zealand, you know, boys, are a jovial lot. We can hold our own anywhere when the whisky .goes round." " I can easily believe it !" said I. " I remember a trip I once took to Australia," he continued, ignoring my remark. " I wanted to see what sort of cattle they had over there. I was driving up in a coach to some place with an ungodly name. It was raining hard, and the live passengers were all inside, no one hankered after the box seat. I never in my life saw such an unsociable lot of fellows. Two of them were parsons. I didn't expect much from them. The other two looked like station holders, and should have had something to say. I didn't care to tackle the parsons, but I put a question or two to the others. They replied certainly, but a bare ' yes ' or ' no ' doesn't make a fellow communicative. I stood it all the morning as well as I could. But it was a terrible strain. I'm a bit fond of a chat myself. When we stopped at a pub, I asked them to join me. I thought it was maybe the want of whisky that had tightened their tongues. But they

refused. What d'ye think of that ?*' and the old chap looked at me in a manner that showed plainly what he thought of it.

" Perhaps, they weren't thirsty," I ventured.

" Weren't thirsty ? That's no excuse. D'ye think I'd wait to think whether I was thirsty or not, if a respectable stranger, who I could see was feeling lonely, wanted me to join him in a whisky ?"

" No, I really don't think you would," my friend replied.

" Downright rudeness, sir, that's what I call it. No one who had the slightest respect for himself would be guilty of such atrocious conduct. I turned on my heel and asked the driver to join me. He had some gentlemanly feeling- about him. After starting again we drove on in the. same studied silence till I couldn't stand it any longer. ' Hang it all, gentlemen !' I said, 4 I come from New Zealand, and I'm not used to this sort of thing. How much longer is it the etiquette of this country for us to sit, each in our own corner, glaring at one another like a lot of mopokes ? For Heaven's sake say something, if it's only " and the old fellow gave them their choice of several uncomplimentary remarks which need not be particularized here.

"The infernal fools," the old man continued, "had positively mistaken me for a bushranger. I wasn't so stout as 1 am now, and I wore my riding- boots and breeches. Directly I said I came from New Zealand they cottoned on to me properly, and T had no occasion to round them up again. I had been right in my surmise — two of them were station holders, and what's more, shorthorn men. They were going up to the Agricultural Show, whither I was bound, and I didn't have to drink with the driver alohe after that."

I'd let a friend up there know I was coming-, and they had a great dinner on for me after the show. Every man jack of them would have

pressed me to drink, but you know pressure isn't required among shorthorn men. I soon saw there was a conspiracy among them to knock the New Zealander under the table, but they didn't know the stuff I was made of. It put me on my mettle. One after another the weakest of 'em left — carried out for the most part.

My two mates on the journey up were warriors ; they held out the longest. Then one tottered and fell and I had only one left to tackle.

Only one — but what a one ! Must I give in. Never, I thought to myself. New Zealand for ever ! For the honour of my country I must see it out, and I did ! But it was a hot time, lads. I never had a hotter, I give you my word \"

The old fellow looked as proud as if he'd won a much more important championship.

When he began his yarn I hoped we should have had some interesting information about Australia. But this was all he seemed to remember. The importance of it had so impressed him that everything else had dwarfed in comparison and dwindled out of memory.

" But, boys/ he added after a short interval, " 1 don't know why I told you this. I wouldn't advise fellows of your age to take on any such contracts, mind that now ! "

By this time we had entered the boundary gate into the old gentleman's domain, and certainly he had laid his lines in pleasant places. Before us lay a model farm, rolling downs and verdant vvalleySy vS richly grassed, ornamented with small clumps of native bush, and stocked with superb shorthorns of all sizes and correct colours. Here, verily, the old fellow had something to be proud of for this perfect stockfarm had been won from the wilderness under his own hand. He pointed out the spot where he had him. self ploughed the first acre turned over in the district by a white man, and showed us afterwards a number of stalwart plough horses, the.

projeny of the prolific old mare which had then trod the furrow. kSome of these were now approaching the sere and yellow leaf themselves, but they bore the stamp of power and endurance which can carry a horse throu-gih a long life. They positively gave one the impression, by the way they looked when their master approached, that they shared his pride in the home they had so materially helped to create. The shorthorns, in their turn, came in for much undisguised admiration on our part, and we listened with very pronounced interest to the circumstantial account the old fellow gave of their family histories and achievements. The odd thought would obtrude, as I listened to him, that this quaint racy style of dealing with genealogies would have immensely improved a certain chapter in Genesis. It was not exactly inspiration, perhaps, but it sounded ever so much better.

As we approached the homestead, we found it in perfect keeping with its surroundings. What the old fellow called light refreshments were on the table in view of tiding us over till the promised dinner in the evening-. They served the purpose admirahly. Then a stroll round the homestead, followed by a look at the game cocks. A dozen or so of these were in as many small cages.

The old man explained to us that they were all from one brood, and packed up to send as presents to friends — "fellows that are likely to buy my young bulls/ there was an expressive twinkle in his merry eyes as he said this. It appeared that the bullock-dray which was to have taken them that morning could not now go for several days, so he determined to give them their liberty again. They were each addressed to their new owners, the names being written on luggage labels suspended round their necks. These the old gentleman decided not to remove, as it had taken him some time deciding which to send to each

friend, the best going to the most likely purchaser of the noblest and therefore highest-priced scion of his bovine aristocracy, and so carefully down through the respective probabilities and grades. We helped him turn them out into an empty run, having previously asked him whether they would not fight.

" Fight, not they \" he replied. " Don't I tell you they're all one brood ; been together since they were chicks \"

The result astonished him — but not us. We expected it. The amiability of this happy band of brothers had certainly in the first place been somewhat disturbed by irritating confinement. But I honestly believe not one of them

knew his dearest brother when he met him attired in a white luggage label.

In any case, at it they went with hearty good will, and in a moment six pairs of birds were engaged in mortal combat, changing partners rapidly and indiscriminately whenever the exigencies of space or propinquity of another foe seemed to suggest it. Such a set to I never witnessed before. Instead of trying to separate them, the old man stood entranced by the prowess shown by some of his favourite birds, and astonished at that of others which he had evidently undervalued. JTe seemed to be making mental notes:

" Fll have to alter some of those labels after all/ he said presently, in a musing tone. " It'd never do to give Jones that plucky little fellow in the corner. T never saw him fight before. Robinson must have him. . He's good for my best bull."'

Though much blood was shed and the yard was strewn with feathers, there were no frf.alities, and after a time the combatants mutually agreed to give the disfiguring* labels the sig-nificance to which their colour clearly entitled them, and peace again reigned. Seeing: which we retired, and the dinnorgong sounded.

A real old Stilton cheese, a pre-

sent from a brother of the craft in the Old Country, into which a couple of bottles of port-wine had been carefully poured at correct intervals, proved yet further the attention to detail which had been one of the principal factors of our host's success in life, and fittingly concluded a repast, which, like everything else connected with the

old gentleman, was one of the best of the sort obtainable.

As we rose from the hospitable table that evening, and sought what our host called " the shakedowns/ ' he had insisted on us occupying, we certainly would not have owned the relationship, had we had the misfortune to have been connected with the royal family.