PART I. " Unto us a Child is Born !"

Te Aroha News, Volume I, Issue 30, 29 December 1883, Page 4

PART I. " Unto us a Child is Born ! "

It -was Christmas Eve, and the hour was far advanced. The daylight had not long departed, however, and its lingering steps might still be traced in faint gleams in the eastern sky. The long, garish hours of heat and sunshine had given place, at last, to the cool and restful darkness of night. All men, all beast*, all plants were lifting their weary heads to the cool night breeze, and rejoicing in the universal shade. The I loud bleating of a thousand sheep filled the air, as they followed one upon another in long lines, climbing the narrow mountain tracks to seek the highest summit for their resting-place. Near midnight, in New Zealand, the Southern Cross scintillating overhead in the empyreal blue. Jock, the shepherd, was seated, staff in hand, upon a high pinnacle of rock, overlooking the country far and near. ! Beneath his feet the land stretched away in dusky flats, still distinguishable in the vanishing twilight. Far off lay a lake in which |the stars were reflected. Wooded islands were visible, rising like ghostly shapes from the bosom of the lake Beyond, the country sloped upwards to a low range of hills. Such was the scene, dimly mapped below. Jock was wrapped in meditation, heedless of the bleating sheep, the fading light, and dimming landscape. His rugged face was fixed in thought, and his, keen grey eyes immovably directed to the southern horizon. The shepherd's countenance was roughly hewn, as some granite rock on the steep hill side. He was still young, although his locks were sprinkled with grey and his features worn by toil and exposure. He was ot almost gigantic stature, and his brawny arms and great brown, hands spoke of an equal strength. He was a man of little imagination. Each day brought to him its accustomed toil marked out before him. To rise before daybreak, to partake of a great meal of coarse viands cooked by his own hands, unloose his dogs, and calling them to heel,

set forth to walk the boundary, pipe in mouth ; to tend, or drive, or clip, according to the season, returning late at night to the cabin he called his horne — constituted his daily routine. His sleep was heavy, his appetite unfailing, his language concise and clear, to the point, and garnished with rough figures of speech. Only one incident worthy the remembrance had marked the career of Jock, the shepherd, and upon this incident his mind was fixed this Christmas Eve. That very night, one year before, Jock had brought a young wife to share his cabin home. The shepherd would have found it difficult to account for this circumstance. He had "picked up" Nancy. He had been " awa down South ' for a season in the shearing time. Nancy was housemaid at the Riverhead House. She was pretty, and gay, and very young. She wore pink print gowns and bewitching caps, and we may suppose that the prettiest of these caps she had set, at Jock, the shepherd. It is difficult to imagine why a young and pretty girl should have fancied Jock, with his solemn face and grizzling head. Perhaps the fair Nancy entered upon the game, which ended for her so seriously, in some merry jest. Perhaps she wished to pique some younger lover. Perhaps some false estimate of Jock's possessions had acted as a lure. Who can account for the freaks of marriage among either gentle or simple ? Nancy's relations lived away in a remote sea-side village, and heard nothing of the matter until she was already Mrs Jock. The shepherd led his young wife homeward on Christmas Eve. She rode beside him by the long tracks worn by bullock-drays, and the shepherd was gentle with his unusual charge. But ho did not continue gentle. Storms arose^md shook that new household to its i very foundation. Nancy was negligent, giddy, foolish, and tormenting, the shepherd stern and unyielding. Then Nancy became fretful, peevish, and more negli gent, and the shepherd became more gruff and stern with eacli succeeding day. Ere three months were over they led a cat-and-dog life. All the shepherd's peace was gone. Jealousies, cross words, angry speeches, even threatened blows, succeeded, and ere many months were over Nancy had (led. Fled — none knew whither ; the shepherd never inquired. He went backto his bachelor life with apparent contentment ; lived ■n ith his dogs and sheep and pipe for company, and appeared to have forgotten the interruption that had occurred in his habits. To-night it was present witli him. Perhaps it was the anniversary — Christmas Eve. He had heard the old, old story in his childhood at the church in the Scotch village of his infancy — " Peace on earth, goodwill to men P Little had Peace adorned his dwelling during lh©se brief months of married life. He had often heard tell of women's tongues, and experience had taught him that where I a woman entered, peace flew out of the window. Perhaps he had been hard upon her. His own tongue was sharp too when lie was aroused. How pretty she had looked that night as she stood upon the threshold of her new home ! Her tongue had not been sharp then, but a merry laugh hadi&sued from her lips as she contemplated his rough abode. Maybe he should have spruced the place up a bit and made things fine for a young wife, but in his opinion it was her business to put a place to rights. She was a vixen, and no mistake. Darkness deepened round the shepherd, and gentle shadowy touches dimmed the landscape, obliterating with gradual fingers the outlinesof the hills and lake. The odours of the balmy night, the gentle bleating of contented sheep, some unusual stillness in the air, exerted a peculiar influence over his rough, untutored mind. He could not wrench hia thoughts away from his last Christinas Eve. "Woman," whispered his fancy, " was a queer creature, weak and foolish ; vixenish, maybe, and given to humours. All, vreel, but ~Nancy was a winsome lass as he had seen her first. Gin she had been a better housewife and kept a civil tongue in her head, he would have been glad the lass had stave i. The old place looked dull eno' by times. But clatter, clatter, clatter, talk, talk, talk ; a man could'na stan it." He wondpred all the same where the wilful lassie had found a home. Doubtless she had gone back to the old farmhouse, or maybe to the aged parents of whom he had heard her tell. He had never inquired anything about her, and no one had dared to mention her name to Jock since it became known that his saucy wife was gone. Suddenly to the southward, over the lake, a gleam of golden light shot upwards in the sky. It might be summer lightning. The shepherd moved his position slightly, resting his chin upon his two hands clasped upon his staif, and watched. Again the golden gleam, and now a rosy light, suflused the southern sky, spreading upwards from the horizon. The lake was now distinctly visible. Tree-crowned islets appeared distinctly, cut daik upon the surface. The waters of the lake took on a roseate hue, and danced and glanced beneath the strange, weird sky. The light faded suddenly, and all was darkness — blacker for the late radianoy. The shepherd never moved, but still intently gazed. Again ! Again gleams shot across the sky, and the roseate flush spread from south to east. No lightning ever tso luminous, so radiant. The southern stars weie paled ; the heavens above, the earth below, were mingled in one glorious panoply: The firmament seemed on fire. Darts of gold, green, yellow, and crimson shot upwards, met, and dissolved in streams of brilliancy. The landscape glowed with magical light. Even the shepherd's rugged, upturned features were touched with an unearthly colour. His rugged soul was moved within him. Never had he witnessed a spectacle so grand. For him, it seemed, was this glorious panorama spread. Alone here on the mountain side, scarce a living human soul for leagues around, he fancied himself the sole spectator of the splendid transformation scene ; the only witness of this turn in Nature's grand kaleidoscope. Some superstitions lurked deep in Jock, the shepherd's, soul. Once he arose in a terror-stricken fancy that the Judgment Day had come, almost expecting to hear the last trump peal from out the splendour. As the ray still silently shot across the sky, and there was no abating of the luminous display — no harmful result from those darts of flame — he sank down again, determining, in his dogged Scotch fashion, to see the matter out, and resumed his silent watch. And now across his memory there flitted gleams of light— memories of tales learnedL by the mother's knee ; of low tones telling on Christmas Eve "the old, old story. ' What was the tale they told ? What bells can those be sounding in his ears ? Never sound of chimes broke the mountain air in this wild region. No bell, save a cow bellj ever sounded here. Can it be that the magic atmosphere of Christmas Eve has turned the cow-bells' " tinkle to a chime?"

And now the corruscations in the ; sky increase a thousandfold. The luminous darts seem meeting at dtie point. " They take shape and form. He sees an angelic throng bursting from the highest Heaven. The golden gates are surely opened. No light but the angelic or Divine could shine so bright. He is on the mountain side near Bethelem. On him gleam lights as on the shepherds of ' old time; to him come voices as to the watchers 6f old. Voices ring out upon the midnight air from the midst of the luminous splendour, " Unto us a child is born ! Unto us a son is given ! Peace on earth ! Goodwill to men 1" He heard it. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He rose and gazed towards the vision. Still there. Again the splendour flashed into the sky. Again the heavens opened. Again the angelic voices rang out upon the air, " Unto us a child is born ! Peace on earth ! Goodwill to men !" One last brilliant flash revealing the lake, the shadowy islets, and all the glorified landscape. The lights were withdrawn ; darkness settled down once more over earth and sky. The curtain had fallen. The display was over. The play over, the shepherd left his box and descended from his rocky eminence. His dog, which had never left his side, and had seemed to share in his emotions, raiding his eyes inquiringly to his master's face, crouching in alarm at his feet and whining pitifully from time to time, wagged his tail and bounded joyfully forward as Jock took his homeward way. " Did ye ever see the like o' that, noo, Jamie ?" said the shepherd, as his eye fell upon the dog. Jamie seemed to answer "Never" as he rubbed himself against his master's leg, uttering a low bark of intelligence. The shepherd's rude abode was situated some two miles from the spot on which we have seen him first. He walked briskly thitherward, now and then muttering to himself or rubbing his horny hand over his hair and eyes. He muttered the words of his vision, which seemed to have gathered a new meaning from the reality of his strange imaginings. The vision still swam before his eyes ; the old words so often heard, so long forgotten, echoed in his brain with a prophetic insistance. The hut which Jock inhabited consisted merely of two low rooms, with one little window cut in either. A wide door opened into the one, which served as kitchen, eating, and ,'iving room. In the other were certain relics of Jock's brief married life : an attempt at feminine adornment was still visible in the tattered window curtains, chintz-covered chair, and patch-work quilt. All were dirty, torn, and faded ; however, no attempt to wash or to replace had ever been made since the disappearance of the mistress of the abode. Jock himself never slept in that room, although he sometimes housed a passing stranger there. He rolled himself up in a blanket, and tumbled into a narrow bunk in the kitchen. The night had changed in some slight measure. A chillier air had set in from tiresouth, and the shepherd shivered sligktiy as ho left a valley and climbed the sltoj)© leading to his home, which was concealed from the approaching eye by a scanty boscage on the crest of the hill. The house was generally wrapped in total darkness until the owner struck a match on his entrance. It was many a day since any friendly light had gleamed from the littld window to tell 1 the shepherd that he was expected home. Now, as he came in sight, to his astonishment he perceived that the house was brilliantly lighted. Candles gleamed in either window. The door was wide open, and a flood of light poured forth into the surrounding darkness. A bright fire burned on the open hearth. On the floor before the fire, wonder of wonders, a naked babe, warm and rosy from the bath, lay steaming on a blanket, stretching its pink toes and tiny fingers to the delicious blaze. The baby crowed aloud as it watched the dancing flames. Jock, the shepherd, hastened forward, but stood dumbfounded at this extraordinary sight.