Station Amusements in New Zealand by Lady Mary Anne Barker (best large ereader .txt) 📕

seemed certainly to offer many attractions. Besides thousands of acres of beautiful sheltered sheep country, it was said to possess a magnificent bush, in which sawyers were already hard at work. Of course all this timber would become our own, and we were to make so much a year by selling it. "How about the carriage?" inquired F---- cautiously, having visions of costly bullock-drays, and teams and drivers at fabulous wages. "Oh, the lake is your highway," replied the would-be seller, airily; "you have nothing to do but lash your felled trees together, as they do in the mahogany-growing countries, and set them afloat on the lake, they will thus form a natural raft, and cost you little or nothing to get down to a good market. You know the Dunstan diggings are just at the foot of the lake, and they haven't a stick there; timber is very badly wanted in those parts, not only for fuel and building, but also for slabbing the shafts which the miners sink."

By the time the coffee was served F---- had made up his mind to buy the Lake Wanaka run; his business agent urging him strongly not to hesitate for a moment in securing such a chance. The negotiations reached thus far without the least hitch, but at this point F----said, "Well, I'll tell you what I'll do: we will start in a day or two and go straight up to this run and look round it, and if I find it anything like so good as you both make it out, I'll buy it on the spot."

Never did that sociable little word "we" sound so delightful to my ears! "Then I am to come too," I thought to myself, but I prudently concealed from the company that I had ever had any misgivings on that point. However, the company did not concern themselves with my doubts and fears, for our two guests seemed much taken aback at this very matter-of-fact proposal of F----'s. "That won't do at all, my dear fellow," said the owner of the run; "I am going to England by the next mail steamer, which you know sails next week, and the reason I am literally giving away my property is that I don't want any suspense or bother. Take it or leave it, just as you like. There's Wilkinson and Fairwright and a lot of others all clamouring for the refusal of it, and I've only waited to see if you really wanted it before closing with Fairwright. He is walking about with a cheque all ready filled up in his pocket, and only begging and praying me to let him have the run on my own terms. Why you might be weather-bound or kept there for a month, and what shall I do then? No, its all just as I've told you, and you can call it your own to-morrow, but I can't possibly wait for you to go and look at it." No words of mine can give any idea of the tone of scorn in which our guest pronounced these last three words; as if looking at an intended purchase was at once the meanest and most absurd thing in-the world. F---- seemed half ashamed of himself for his proposal, but still he urged that he never liked to take a leap in the dark, backing up his opinion by several world-revered adages. "That's all very fine," chimed in our precious business adviser," but this transaction can hardly be said to be in the dark; here are the plans and the Government lease and the transfer deeds, all regular and ready." With this he produced the plans, and then it was all up with us. Who does not know the peculiar _smell_ of tracing-paper, with its suggestions of ownership? When these fresh and crackling drawings were opened before us they resembled nothing so much as a veritable paradise. There shone the lake--a brilliant patch of cobalt blue, bordered by outlines of vivid green pasture and belts of timber. Here and there, on the outskirts, we read the words, "proposed township," "building lots," "probable gold fields," "saw mills." F---- laid his hand down over a large wash of light green paint and asked," Now what sort of country is this; really and truly, you know?" "First class sheep country, I give you my word," replied the owner eagerly, "only wants to be stocked for a year or two."

Why need I go on? It was the old, old story of misplaced confidence. Neither F---- nor I could believe that our friends would wilfully over-reach us, so it was settled that the first thing next morning the money should be handed over and the Government lease transferred to us. We decided that as we were so far on the way to our new property, we would go and look at it before returning to the Malvern Hills, and the next few days were very busy ones, as we had to arrange our small domestic affairs, send up the dray, etc., etc. I felt rather anxious at the postponement of our return home, for I had left several "clutches" of eggs on the point of being hatched, and I had grave misgivings as to the care my expected ducklings and chickens would receive at the lands of my scatter-brained maid servants, to say nothing of the dangers besetting them from hawks and rats. However, small interests must give way to great ones, and F---- and I were already tasting the cares of proprietorship. Our friend, the former owner of our new property, sailed for England in the mail steamer, in high spirits, saying cordially as he shook F----'s hand at parting, "Well you _have_ got your fortune cut out for you, and no mistake; I feel half sorry already to think that I've parted with that run." About two days after his departure, F---- who had registered his name at the land office as the present tenant of 100,000 acres in the Lake Wanaka district, received a polite request from official quarters to pay up the annual rent, just due, amounting to 100 pounds or so. We had effected our brilliant negotiations about a week too soon it seemed, but that was our own fault, so we had nothing to do but pay the money with as good a grace as possible. I am "free to confess" that this second cheque ran our banker's account very fine indeed, but still in those palmy days of the past this was no subject of uneasiness to a squatter. His credit was almost unlimited, and he could always raise as much money as he liked on an hypothecation of next year's wool. But we had not come to that yet. The weather was delightful; the customary week of heavy rain just after our midsummer Christmas, had cooled the air and laid the dust, besides bringing out a fresh spring-like green tint over the willows and poplars, and causing even the leaves of the gums to lose their leather-like look for a few days.

After much consultation we decided to go by coach as far as Timaru, and then trust to circumstances to decide our future means of transport. Not only were we obliged to pay a large sum for our places but our luggage was charged for by the pound, so we found it necessary to reduce our kit to the most modest dimensions, and only to take what was absolutely necessary. The journey was a long and weary one, the only variety being caused by a strong spice of danger at each river. At some streams we were transferred bodily to a large raft-like ferry boat, and so taken across. At others the passengers and luggage only were put into the boat, the lumbering coach with its leathern springs left behind, whilst the horses swam in our wake across the wide and rushing river, to be re-harnessed to another coach on the opposite shore. The Rakaia, Ashburton, and Rangitata had been crossed in this way, and we had reached the Otaio, a smaller river, when we found a new mode of transport awaiting us. A large dray with a couple of powerful horses was in readiness, and into this springless vehicle we were unceremoniously bundled. The empty coach and horses was driven over at another part of the stream. I shall never forget the jolting: the river must have been at least a quarter of a mile wide at that reach, and over its bed of boulders and rocks we bumped In the middle stretched a long strip of shingle, which seemed as smooth as turf by contrast with the first half of the river-bed. When we charged into the water again our driver removed his pipe from his mouth, looked over his shoulder and remarked, "River's come down since mornin'; best tuck up your feet, marms all." I can answer for this "marm" tucking up her feet with great agility, and not a moment too soon either, for as a light wind was blowing, a playful wave came rippling over and through the planked floor of the dray, floating all the smaller parcels about. But no one could speak, we were so jolted: it literally seemed as if our spines _must_ come through the crown of our heads, and I expected all my teeth to tumble out.

In the midst of my fright and suffering, a laugh was jolted out of me by the absurd behaviour of one of our fellow-passengers. He was what is called a bush carpenter: i.e., a wandering carpenter, who travels from station to station, doing any little odd rough jobs wanted. This man had been working for us some time before, and had often amused me with his quaint ways. On this occasion he was on his oppressively good behaviour, and sat quite silent and solemn on the opposite ledge of the dray. But when for the second time the water came swirling through our rude conveyance with a force which threatened to upset it altogether, Dale fumbled in his pocket, as if he were seeking for a life-belt, produced an enormous pair of green goggle spectacles, which might have made part of Moses Primrose's purchases at the fair, and adjusting them on his nose as steadily as he could, said gravely, "This must be looked to!" He continued to stare at the wash of water during the remainder of our perilous and rough transit without vouchsafing any explanation of his meaning, but after we had safely landed he replaced his spectacles, first in their huge shagreen case, and next in his pocket, with an air which seemed to say, "The danger is now over: thanks to my precautions."

Timaru was reached very late, and the best accommodation at the inn placed at our disposal. Still, in those distant days there was no such thing as a private sitting room, and we had all to eat our supper in the same rough-boarded little apartment. But in all my varied wanderings in different parts of the world, when the accidents of travel have thrown me for a time among the class whom we foolishly speak of as the lower orders, I have never yet had to complain of the slightest inconvenience or disagreeableness from my fellow-travellers. On the contrary, I have always received the most chivalrous politeness at their hands, and have noticed how ready they were to forego their usual tastes and habits lest they should cause me any annoyance. I wonder whether fine gentlemen in their splendid clubs would be quite so willing to spoil the pleasure of their evening if any accident were to throw an unwelcome lady amongst them? At all events, they could not be _more_ self-sacrificing than my friends in fustian jackets have always proved themselves, and on this particular evening the landlord of the inn was so amazed at