TOLD ON THE TRAIL

Evening Star, Issue 19664, 17 September 1927, Page 16

TOLD ON THE TRAIL

[Written by Tal Johnston, for the ‘Evening Star.’] The first rays of the sun were throwing dancing leaf shadows on the tent walls as I jerked awake under the rough hand on my shoulder. “Long day ahead, mo boy,” Jock whispered; “ better get ’em moving early.” It was 4 o’clock. The previous day we had shepherded our party of eight tourists over a short stage of twelve miles, just by way ot an introduction to the sterner trails ahead. On this, their second day away from the homo influences of tram bolls and policemen, the night’s food and lodging lay well over twenty miles ahead through trackless country. It meant a hard day’s work for us; for the guides, apart from being the bell-wethers to the flock, must, if fatigue is to bo kept at bay, bo unflagging in their efforts to entertain and amuse. Objects and places of interest must be pointed out and pertinent histories related; and like the patter of circus clowns, the flow of reminiscence, anecdote, and cross talk must swung back and forth between thon. However, it is part of the day’s work, and it helps to keep unaccustomed eyes from dwelling on the blue distance yet to bo traversed.: When breakfast was nearly ready, Jock sounded tho reveille on the bottom of a tin pan. One by one they came out with towels and soap; ladies from tho slab hut; men from tho tent, stretching to drive tho stiffness irom logs and hacks and still-clinging sleep from scarce opened eyes. Then tho bluo-aud-gold miracle of the now day gripped them. Jock and I dropped our -work by the lire to watch tho play of expression on the yet untanned faces. There is a trace of sadness in some at such a time; tho realisation of what they have lost and will lose again, in the cities, comes to them; but for the most part there is wonder, tinged with humility, in tho presence of vastness. The recklessly npslung peaks, snowcapped and skirted with green, stand boldly out against the unllecked sky. There is a purity of blue overhead possible only whore there is absence of smoko and dust. The light morning breeze carries a thousand fragrant earth scents culled from each lonely mile of its long journey, and the blended whole is wafted to the nostrils of newly wakened tourists; it is the perfume of Nature. A hasty splashing in the clear creek, then a rush for breakfast. Long dormant appetites are aroused and piles of “ grub ” vanish like tho stars at daybreak.

A little more instruction in tho hanging of packs, a few words of caution' on the inadvisability of straying from the fold en route, and wo are off. As we trail down to the floor of the valley for the easier going, Jock ccmes alongside to whisper; “Keep ’em talking, or maybe you’ll have to carry some of ’em the last mile or two.” He marches ahead to lead the column.

Besido mo I have an American and his wife, a young Eglishman of athletic build, and a lady school teacher from tho north. The formality of the first day is wearing off—also the Jegstiffness—and a little encouragement will bring out tho spirit of freedom from convention, an essentia! to the success of such expeditious. I start tho ball rolling. “What do you think of it—so far? ” I ask tho American.

He thought for a moment, then drawled his opinion. “ Wa-al, on the map, this country looks like a small end of dnrn little, an’ wo wondered where wo’d go when the tide came in; yesterday, wo discovered it was big enough to make onr legs ache; to-day, mv wife ami I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a whole piece larger than wo thought, or else wc’ro a lob smaller than wo like to think, ch? ” A burst of laughter came from Jock’s end of tho lino.

“That’ll bo the cheese,” I remarked. “Is there a joke attached to it?” asked the Englishman.

“There was,” I told him, “hut according to Jock tho cheese committed suicide from loneliness. He used to keep it in the cupboard of tho camp we’re making for. It was a cheese of peculiar fruity ripeness and very powerful. He swears that it used to scratch at tho door and whine for water so that he couldn’t sleep. He chained it up in the finish, just in case some stranger might open the cupboard and get hurt, but I never heard of trouble arising from it.” “ Some cheese,” said Mrs American. “What happened to it?” I hadn’t the least idea, so I suggested that they ask Jock. They did so. It appeared that the cheese was last seen in company with a weka, but the matter had been kept quiet. There are heavy penalties attached to the destruction of native game. The Englishman dropped back from the others and fell into step beside mo. He seemed a nice fellow, though rather quiet. For some time he walked in silence apparently taking a keen interest in the surrounding country. Then he turned to me. _ “ Queer chap, that,” he remarked, indicating Jock. “In what way?” I demanded. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps 1 should say unusual. Never met anyone quite like him. Looks a rough sort of a diamond, but see how the women hang round him.” _ He was quite right, they did, and his drawling remarks kept them in a continuous ripple of laughter. “What’s he telling them now, do you think?” he asked. “Lord knows. It may bo any of a thousand yarns, or maybe he’s just talking. I’ll tell you something about him, though, to give you some idea of his make-up. In this part of the world the Acclimatisation Society pays a bounty of half a crown for the heads of the common shag, which destroys large numbers of trout. One day Jock and 1 took the launch and buzzed away down tho lake to a well-known shag rookery, a precipitous bluff, with the idea of assisting the society to keep down the fish mortality and incidentally to line our own pockets. “ On reaching the spot we shot from tho boat such birds as flew out from tho bluff, gathered them from the water, then landed to collect the young birds and the eggs. Jock landed with about 100 ft of stout rope and a small hoy to attend to it, leaving, me free to cruise around close inshore to shoot stray birds and pick up the young ones as no threw them from above.

“ They made their way to the top of the cliff, where Jock fastened the_ rope to a matagonri shrub. Ho then shinned down it to the sheer face, where among the crevices the birds nested, instructing the boy to let go the rope when he shouted. His idea was to go down as far as the rope would allow, then, when the rope was dropped down to him at the halfway ledge, to + hrow the bight of it around one of tho sturdy shrubs that grew from the ledge and slide down to the shore. Ho could then recover the rope by hauling it around the shrub.

“The first part of the programme worked out all right, and 1 was busy manoeuveriug about collecting the young birds as they whirled down to the water. One of them escaped my notice, and Jock called out to me to draw my attention to it; the boy, thinking that that was the signal agreed upon, cast loose the bowline, and next instant I saw Jock slip rapidly downwards. I thought it was a case of picking up the remains, but his downward course stopped with an abrupt jerk which would have been too much for the strength of most men. However, he hung on, and after a second’s indecision climbed rapidly,

hand over hand, to the cliff top. The boy came down to tho shore first, and I ran in to pick him up. “ ‘ What happened ? ’ ’ I asked. ‘“I let go the rope when ho called out,’ the boy said, ‘ and it ran out for a bit all right, but the lump on the end of it jammed between two rocks and I was trying to free it when Jock came over tho edge. I got an awful fright.’ “‘What did he say?’ “ Oh, he just looked at tho rope and me for a bit, and then he said: “ You want to learn how to make them Turk’s heads, sonny; they come in handy on tho end of a rope,” ’ “ Pretty fair nerve,” the Englishman commented; “but what are we stoppin gfor? ” The party ahead had turned in to a clump of trees and were casting themselves down in the shady spots. It was the midway halt. Wo produced a light lunoh for the parly, and boiled the billy for tea. As Jock handled the lid of the billy, ho looked at mo. Wo smiled. There was a joke attached to that lid. “You’d think,” said Jock to the party generally, “that a place like this would bo free from flies, wouldn’t von? ” They all thought so. “ Well, I'll tell you. Me partner hero,” indicating me, “ and meself reached this spot late one night. Wo were going to make an early start straight across tho ranges from hero just to see what was on the other side, and to save time in the morning we made a good solid stew in this billy, which only needed heating up in the morning; about 31b o’ mutton an’ some vegetables there was in it. “Wo slept under the trees that night, and with tho first bird-twitter wo had tho fire going under the hilly. We had no plates, but that didn't worry us; the solids wore easy to manage, and wo took turns drinking the juice from this lid. I had tho second turn There was the morning wind blowing down tho valley, and the sun comes up just as I was starting in on the soup. Before putting it to me mouth. I took a look down the valley. There, as far as you could see, was a thin, dark line of blue-bottles headin’ up wind on the scent o’ the ‘ stew. Well, I starts in on tho lid-full of juice, and me partner hero swears that tho first 100yds of that line of flies was caught up ami swept down with the current.” The school teacher hurriedly dropped the remaining half of a thick bullybeef sandwich. The American laughed. “Some feed—all but tho trimmings,’' ho remarked. “That’s not a big feed,” said Jock, eyeing me speculatively. “You look at Johnny, there.” That was me. “You wouldn’t call him fat, exactly, would you?” They murmured noncommittally. “ Well, I’ll tell you about a feed he an’ another chap—a tourist —put out of sight one time. We’ll get ou the move, an’ I'll toil you as wo go,” We marched off in a compact group, and Jock told his yarn. “It was the first trip of the season; we had a party of eight, and our two solves made ten. The camps had to be provisioned, so I sent Johnny with the packhorses by this route while 1 took the party over the other way—tho llouteburn. This tourist feller decided to go with him and join tip with us again at the hut we’re making for to-night. We had arranged to meet them at a certain time and for them to have a meal ready for us when wo arrived. I thought 1 could make camp before dark; but one of the ladies sort of fizzled out, and it was pitch dark when we started down the other side of tho mountain. I had one candle in me swag and I made as much light as I could with it, hut tho going was tough. “Voices carry for miles in the hills ou a still night, and as soon as 1 reckoned upon being within hearing of the hut 1 yelped a few. “After a few minutes a light appeared away below, and was set down for a guide. That meant that Johnny had heard us. “ For all that, it was nearly an hour before we got in, an’ the ladies didn’t know which was worrying them most, their appetites or their sore feet. However, they put in some good work on the stew that was set before us-; it wasn’t a bad stew at all. I noticed that neither Johnny nor his tourist was eating, and asked them about it. They said they’d had a little snack. So they had. I found out afterwards that when wo didn’t arrive before dark that day Johnny _ had naturally decided wo’il camped in a hut the other side of the range for the night. That meant wo would bo twenty-four hours late. They had a stow ready, and they thought it would he a pity for all the good tucker to go ; ,to waste; it doesn’t last in a tin billy in the hot weather; so they sailed in and ate tho stow that was cooked for ten people. You wouldn’t think it by tho girth of him, would you?” The laugh was on me, but “ Shall I tell you how Jock lost tho trail with a party of tourists one time?” I asked. Jock commenced hurriedly to point out certain interesting views and to talk in a loud voice. Tho Englishman looked from _me to Jock, then for the first time raised his voice. “Don’t you think wo should hear tho story of how a guide lost himself?” he remanded, winking significantly at the American. “Sure!” said that gentleman. “Let us know the worst.” “On second thoughts,” I decided, “ I think it would be better if I left that yarn until we are at the journey’s ond. It might make you nervous. Isn’t that so. Jock?” Jock thought it might he better put off, and as an inducement hinted at certain revelations that could he made concerning mo and a party that wandered through the bush looking with candles for a blazed trail. I was silent. Not so our party. They declared a truce between us on those subjects until the time for parting came; they would have both stories then, so they informed us. The pleasant miles were dropped behind us ns tho shadows lengthened. Some of tho lightness had gone from tho steps of the travellers, and they conversed in quieter tones. Tho wife of the American trailed along at my side looking tired but happy. “Oh! but this is wonderful—this freshness and lack of crowding. I think it would frighten me if I were alone, .though. There is something so tremendously huge about everything. Don’t you feel like that about it?” she asked.

I looked around me, at the friendly hills, the chattering, impish creeks, and the solemn aisles of the big timber. “There is nothing hero to frighten one,” I reassured her; “it is all kindly—in weather like this. Even in storms there is pleasure to be found. But I have known the fear you speak of—a vague fear of the unknown.” I pointed out to her a distant herd of cattle—half-wild Herefords grazing in the unfenced valley. “They were the cause of it. I came down this trail one day on my own, intending to catch our two pack-horses and a hack that wo had turned out on the way out hero. “Jook had gone home the other way, and I was to bo at a certain point on the shore to meet the boat in which he would tx - avel down. Not far from where we are now we had cached the bridles and saddles under a rock. I took the three bridles and went in search of the horses. There were about 500 head of cattle out there, and I soon found that the horses were inside the herd near the end. The cattle stared complacently at mo as I walked quietly through them towards the grazing horses, but made no offensive movements. The horses had been out or about three weeks, and were a trifle skittish. I got fairly close to them and had my hand out to grip the hack’s mane when my foot caught in a root and T stumbled. That startled the horses; they sprang forward towards the outer fringe of the herd, and stirred up the cattle. ■ There was a moment of plunging and snorting amongst them; then the whole herd took fright. The had all been looking

at mo, and when they stampeded they simply followed their noses. There was no sense in running; I hadn’t a hope that way. Fortunately for me, there was a small rock, a bitt less than three feet in height, close at hand. It wasn’t much in the way of cover, but there was no bettor ‘ ole ’ in sight, so I threw myself down behind it and shrunk up as small as possible, and covered my head with my arms. That rock seemed about as much use for protection as a peanut, but it certainly save my bacon. The nerd roared pa'Ji mo in a whirl of legs, dust, and small stones. Every second I expected to feel half a ton of beef landing on the small of my back, or an inquiring horn prodding mo in the ribs. However, they were in too much of a hurry to worry about me; the whole herd, with the horses in the lead and going strong, passed into the bush away ahead there, making a gap in the undergrowth as if ten steam rollers had gone through side by side. They didn’t look like stopping this side of China, so, as I had the jumps pretty badly and had taken a dislike to tho locality, I dumped the bridles and hit the trail «t the double. There were other smaller herds in the valley, and I took the hillside, for it in preference to the easier going in tho valley, with tho result that it was late at night when I, reached the hut we loft this morning. “ My nerves must have been rattled, because all through that night I was as scared as an old maid in a lonely house. Every time a kea wailed I’d sit up in tho hunk with a start; the rustle of til© wind_ in the trees kept my ears pricking in expectation of—well, anything; I didn’t know what I was frightened of, but tho whole world seemed to be peopled with menacing shades. I was glad when the sun peeped through the cracks in tho eastern wall.”

Tlio American lady nodded vigorously. “That is what I mean, that fear of nothing. It seems foolish in the daylight.” She looked ahead to the approaching bushlifio. “Oh, I will be glad to crawl into the blankets,” she sighed. “Won’t you?” “Yes,” I answered, “Jock and I will be ready for bed by the time we’ve fed all of you, laid your beds, washed the dishes, chopped wood for tho morning, swept the nut, and prepared the provisions for to-morrow,”