TOTARA-NUL

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 27, 1 February 1871, Page 2

TOTARA-NUL

AN ORIGINAL STORY. ( Written Jot the Australasian). Q Chapter VI. THE SAVAGE EIVAL. Among the green leaves and thick undergrowth, closß by Maggie and her loyer, was a writhing form that rolled on the " ground, and clasped strong hands above a face distorted by jealousy, defeat, and longing for revenge, and now and then a-. cruel spasm of great pain. It is Tahaki. * One can believe almost in the doctrine of fate by counting the accumulation of chances which brought him here at this moment. True he cannot understand English, but to his quick Maori perception, tones and shades of tones are intelligible. Presently, , when the first strong paroxysms of hisj'V emotion are over, he glides stealthily away, .v and when he is put of hearing, rising to ( his feet, sets off with a long, slouching pace that takes Mm surely and swiftly, winding and turning, among bush which, to unpractised eyes, shows not a trace of a track. . AU day long,: faster or slower, he travels, stopping once to cut the heart from a "nikau" and eat that and drink a little water; then on again, until, as the last sun rays disappear, he .stops at the bank of a wide,;, swift., stream. Pulling off his clothes he ties them round his neck, and, ~ slipping into the water, begins swimming across. •■:... '. . . : . ':"..'• s-\- ■'■'':. ■;. Vj '"-. Opposite ; to him as he stepped into Vtfie water, and on the . other side of th<3 river, the high cliffs are rounded like a horseshoe, the two ends meeting the water, and in ,ithe scoop of the, shoe is a Maori >' -pa." Ileaching the landing on the bank, he- con-,, rtinues his "way; till he; gains the first;,(clustisr, of hut3,;and, i ■;he^ftnl*s,dovm'vb^ , kiiidleS outside^^jH&lp^ear^^eM greested ;fty.^the;Jntaiv£s^ .- '.?wallmg;i^dyp^^ \/ |tJds)%^Ms^^jii^ib^ :(:■ ■ rß^ild^sjtlie" i]aAe^t'al^yi^^i';m|^^.^ni; ':; '■:■ ■ f

Giving short, naoody answers, Tahaki ■presently, seeming to forget his weariness, leaps to his feet, and his almost gigantic figure is spen hurrying through all the pa, calling on the men to come to a great* meeting or "korero" in the. "rununga" house. Always glad of any pretence at excitement, the ruriunga house is soon filled, for beside his prestige as the son of the mighty Ngapu, Tahaki is. known among them as a great orator. Unfortunately, just now Ngapu, and several of his nearest relatives are away on a long journey, and the little cloud the size of a man's !hand begins to thicken and spread. Tahaki' s speech lasts a long time, and in the course of it he is often interrupted, first ,with grunts of approbation, then- by. more active demonstrations, until at last the sea of faces becomes one great reflex of the speaker's vile heart. He works upon their excitable mindj^ with' ease' and deliberation, each string, each tone he knows, and to his burning - I speech the brains and hearts of his audience y respond. His ey.es are now inflamed, an,d seemed to glow with excited passion, like two balls of fire. His blanket is cast aside, and he stands with only a long fringed Maori mat thrown round him, one muscular brown arm uplifted, as he nears the conclusion of his speech. The faces around him are demoniac in their evil passions and savagery, and the men sway their bodies and contort their features in excitement as Tahaki sends them hither and thither with his serpent guile. -/ ;•- . . For remainder of News- see Fourth page.

HH^^BflPP^Bavage as he is, has an exHBjpfflTsense of mastery and leadership over EWie minds of his fellows, equal to that^ which posessed the Roman orators of old. In his great Mature, his earnestness, and mien of conscious power, he looks almost kingly. See the intense look of scorn that accompanies that exclamation ; how it has changed to^a crafty smile as he lowers his voice persuasively, and the soft Maori tounge comes slipping! harmoniously from his cruetlips. %' The man is one of nature's orators, fit to be a leader of the people he serves. After he has been dead forimany years, his pa ipR boast of his strength of language, and he will become : a traditionary orator. Wonderful "hakas" (songs) will be made about him, and finally he will pass into a proverb among them, assuming proportions almost godlike, seen dimly through the mists of years. There is mischief in all this ; seeds are sown now that will bear bitter fruit in the ending. Sorrow hovers in the spreading cloud, sorrow for those at Totara-nui. I sometimes think how can we be thankful enough that in this life of constant turmoil and impending troubles, we cannot see our way before us, not even for an hour. How many forecasting their fate, would in very despair fling away a hopeless life ; how many would live horrible shadowed years of dread expectancy ; how many would go out from that revelation perfectly insane ; how few would look upon their fate unmoved. But we in our great ignorance know so much, and_are yet so wise ; w,e will do thi3 thing, and ■ that thing ; no chance or change shall induce us to depart from it. Oh ! foolish and shortsighted, you think you know your life, and you make your plans, and to-day, this very hour, something comes, and they are all gathered up in the inexorable hand of Fate and crushed like webs of gossamer, i For a moment you open your eyes, and a great gulf has come between you and the past of yesterday. You have drifted like a boat, with her cable cut, on a swift stream. Between you and the sloping lawn, bright with flowers and musical with the lap of tinkling waters upon its green and fragrant margin, are the dark eddies of the current which is bearing you away ; you can never go back. - "After all," thinks Mr. Dumbarton, "things are coming right again: there will be no trouble this time," and he puts the care farther behind him. " Den, you're an old goose, and so was I," says Patty merrily. And John, quiet John, thanks heaven for Carry's sake. The strange dull hush that comes before our New Zealand earthquakes is not rest and peace. At Totara-nui everyone is remarkably busy ; and up at the out-station, too, Melville is sending drays and writing letters, arranging and disarranging, making his house dainty for Maggie. Here in ,the dining-room at the Dumbartons', all the girls are sewing with dreadful energy, engaged in that mysterious rite of preparing " a trousseau," a phrase so comprehensive to the feminine mind that it is to them the ** open sesame " to endless delights, unless indeed the lady be strong-minded, that crying abomination among women. I wonder if Dr. Mary Walker wilt ever descend to the enjoyment of a trousseau ! Frank is the only one with a sad face, and he will soon brighten again, they say, for they all guess the reason; though Maggie, contrary to the habits of colonial young ladies, never mentions it to any one, because she is in heart, as in manner, a perfect lady. Maggie is to be married first of the two girls, and when Patty can be spared^ then she too will go. As to Mab, she takes a grand interest in both engagement's, but feels herself far above such weaknessess as these two gills are going to'&tttegrate. She likes the admiration of evflßßSwnd declares to " Snowy " no mfl^NKanbe strong or great- enough toflHßH&ts pleasure the gratification to bgHBBBi from general admiration^ .* "jHBBN 1 "' * * ive OD>admiration," she C(HBHH|adds., £>ne speaks nearly the "-*J2lHUg|ra>i3e admired by everyone, from * SaßHnKoy in the kitchen, to the meek yfiHHp J ma^ who comes sometimes for jHBHHfQf their souls, is what .Mab fl^HHm bound to say her aspirations # a^HB&l, except, of course, in extreme qBUBm * na^ °f Melville and Denton ; with whom she comes in contact I flS|^Bpll; great or small, of admiration. I f^nSw'oung as ' she is, has had one or f: '_ §^HHra)b;ut these --.she does not care they are too serious, and as \^^BHBpure' a serioxis answer, therefore fV* 1 j^BSHfiipt ■ included in Mab's category of i "fßßHfibe" desired. .'^ Snowy," the big 'Vl^^Hßß'?!^ possession of Mab*s unalter- < ! J^HB^K thinks so at : leas% determination - Jl^H^K^^^^^^ l^ ■husband,;; for in I -afflH^Kh^^i^ei^iß:a/vision ;/o^ -:^w4>aith, - |JHlHnds wherewith to make a pleasant

settling to her life. These things she thinks some day she will attain to, and then, when, she has got them, menage, fashions, enter tainme*nts, and their giver, shall be unique, and utterly different to anyone else. She is clever, and ambitious, and, more than all (that pearl of great price among women), can keep her own counsel. Will these flitting visions be only the dreams of an unawakened character, or will they become for Mab, some day, a golden reality? The wonder is where she has engendered, these strange thoughts; from none of her companions, certainly; they come, I suppose, by an instinct, vague but not divine. The Arnott girls came over one day anxious to hear all the news with regard to the two engagements, Charlie Carrington having arrived at their house the night before, gladly escorting them to the Dunibartons', delighted with the chance of seeing Miss Mab. To Maggie their visit was anything but a pleasure, for they grated and jarred upon her in even their most good-natured attempts to fraternize with her. To Mab's quick perception it is evident (before Patty gives utterance to a similar idea) that Miss Arnott, who has already been engaged three times, will soon have got poor Carrington " in hand " to such an extent that he will never get away again. Not that his devotion to Mab has diminished one iota, but as he -is naturally rather " down in the mouth," there is a splendid chance for a young lady of Lucy Arnott's capabilities. He, poor fellow, though perfectly aware that his hopes in Mab's direction are quite futile, will not abandon the idea. She has made him understand most convincingly that his love is hopeless, for she has a way of convincing people of this without being disagreeable or hurting their feelings, which is admirable — another of her instincts this. But we know hope is hard to kill, and even when hope is dead, the craving for the forbidden fruit remains. So it was with him. To be continued. *