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THE LAND OF THE SHORN LAMB. From Wellington to Auckland on Foot. (Concluded. )

I remember a scholastic friend of mine saying, " If you want to sec a country properly and observe the manners of the people you must walk through it." Yes, that's all very Avell, but a fellow on a penniless walking tour doesn't trouble his head much about scenery, etc. My mind was chiefly exercised in considering where I could get a "shakedown," as the vernacular of the country hath it, or a meal. Occasionally, when the weather was line and my pipe and stomach were well-filled and in good going order, I admit that my eye was well pleased with the appearance of the country. I felt free, however, and calmly indifferent to the ignoble strife of the madding crowds who swarm in populous cities. Between Masterton and Eketahuna I had a most unpleasant experience. I struck up an acquaintanceship with a flaxen haired young man of most tender years— his age he informed me was five. 1 pumped him strategically with a view of obtaining a shakedown ; and although he had an inpediment in his speech I obtained a good deal ot information. He walked 2£ milos to school, and his father sometimes gave swaggers a shakedown. I immediately determined to look up the venerable parent of my flaxen- haired acquaintance. The alleged author of the being -" it's a wisn child,"' etc., you know of my new acquainance having the power of granting a shakedown, became in my eyes a capitalist, so I escorted the young gentleman to the tenement of his pa. Upon inquiring for a shakedown, I was at once invited inside by a pleasant fair haired girl. A chair was handed to me and I made the acquaintance of the bairns, while the eldest girl busied herself in preparing the evening meal. It consisted of a rather hastily-cooked mutton rice pie, to which my healthy appetite enabled me to do ample justice. I was just about washing down my repast with a huge beaker of tea, when the mother entered. Having said good evening, 1 rose and asked them to show me where I j would make a shakedown. To my as- j tonisbment the old lady said, "Are you going to pay for it ? " I replied, ' ' No. " I stated I had no money Avhen I asked for a shakedown; I had only 3d cash. " Well," she said, with asperity, "there's plenty of work in the country." "There may be," I replied," but 1 have not dropped across it, and until I do I cannot pay for a shakedown." Eventually she said I could sleep! in the kitchen. Later on in the evening, I was sitting round the fire with the sons and a labourer, when the old lady re-entered and ordered me to take my chair and sit back about five yards ] from the fire. About ten o'clock the Jabomer unrolled his swag, and coiled up on the floor, I waited to see if anybody would offer me anything to cover myself with, for the night was extremely cold, but no one did so. I got a bag- and a coat and curled up also on the kitchen floor. Towards morning I felt very cold. I fossicked round and found some more coals and managed to struggle through till daylight. After I had gone through my ablutions, I noticed a vacant bedroom, in which I completed my simple toilet. The bed 1 ad "be )n un tenanted during the night, and 1 was anything but pleased to think there was so little regard for my comfort. The best lark was the labourer seemed to be in a similar fix. He told me he would rather have slept outside in the barn, but there he was lying in the most uncomfortable place a mailman sleep— on the floor. I may state, that this was about the roughest e~\peiience that I had. After leaving Eklahuna the snow began to fall thickly. Bufrh on both sides of the road, snow to the depth of three inches, and the snowstorm still keeping up, made my journey coldly picturesque. It was pretty to look at, but, unprovided as I was, anything but comfortable. Like the hero of oneofßret Harte's condensed novels, Guy Livingstone, I thought of something classical—" Excelsior," but even that failed to comfort me. Reaching a large house I knocked, and a native came to the door. He told me that nobody stopped there, and that the place belonged to " Niriliu," adding that I would get a shake-down at a pah about a mile further on. I went away, but after going a couple of hundred yards, he called me back, and told me to go round to the side. I went round, entered, and Avas effusively greeted by two or three Maoris ; among them onewell dressed and portly man whomlfcook to be theproprietorof theranche. He shook hands and asked me if I wanted a job. I inquired "What at?' Bush-fell-ing was the reply. I replied no, and the conference ended. I left feeling slightly disgusted, as the rangatira did not invite me to have something to eat. The Maori who called me back said, "The snow kill you if you out to-night." I pushed on and came across the tent encampment of Maori bush - fellers situated about a chain off the road in the bush. The Maori women and girls were seated in front of the tents enjoying the fragrant weed by the light of the camp fires. The scene was extremely pretty, but it would take the pen of a Ruskin to do full justice to the effect of the tout ensemble of the forest— small patch of fallen timber, camp fires lighting up the faces of the dusky beauties with pipes stuck in their mouths, evening shadows, falling snow, and native man feeding fireB. I asked a few questions, and as it was nearly dark I hurried on and reached the pah. Knocking, I was at once invited in, and upon explaining matters I was cheerfully told I could «tay for the night. After partaking of some scone and tea, I sat round the lire and stirred them up a little with a few songs,such as " Scotland Yet," "Broken Down," etc. There were about a dozen Maoris, young, middle-aged, and old, and I enjoyed myself capitally. The adults sang some hymns.in plaintive semi-falsetto style, very prettily. One item they chanted ended with the ejaculation " Liar !" A young Maori lying next to me stated that it was tne original composition. "We made it ourselves," he said. I am inclined to think it was an anonymous effusion he tried to palm off upon me. I was supplied with blankets and passed a very pleasant night, the contrast of the cold white beautiful driven snow outside making me thank my stars that I had readied a humanitarian settlement. In the morning a bell rang outside, and most of tho Maoris rose (there were about fifteen of us in the same room), wrapped their blankets around them, and wentoutsidebarofootedinthesnow.l was told the bell rang for prayers. I did not go, as I don't believe in the efficacy of prayers, and I don't understand tho native language. When they returned, I asked my young Maori friend if he felt any better. He evidently thought I wanted to fcako a " rise " out of him, for he said, " What do you want to know for?" " Oh," I replied, i " I would not go to prayers unless I felt ' better after the performance was

over." The subject was then dropped. Not seeing any signs of breakfast, I took to the road again, after learning that it was 8 miles to Pahiatua. A bi'isk slushy walk of 2^ hours brought mo to this township, in which I noticed nothing remarkable except that the legends on the shops read " Cash Store," "Cash Shoeing Forge," etc., etc. Had it not been for the deterrent influence of these signs, I might have given some of the local tradesmen an order. I may mention that my boots leaked terribly,and that I posses&ecl no stockings. I am not of delicate habit, consequently I was not troubled with colds or influenza. I reached Woodvillo theeame afternoon, and received some clerical work from a solicitor, whom I had known slightly in the South Island some years ago. Woodvilleis a thriving township, but the weather was too wet to tempt one to see all the sights of the place. I spent the earlier part of the evening in washing some undci clothing. After receiving my cheque next morning", I found myseif the fortunate possessor of 14s. I purchased a quarter of a pound of nailrod, dined, and started for Napier. The possession of money, of course, entitled mo to rank as a gentle tourist. I paid my way, but my mind was sorely exercised by the state of my boots. The holes were so large that their condition reminded me of the story related by Mark Twain's shipwrecked mariner, in which he candidly admitted that not only were his boots very holy, but that the holes lasted an well as the other portions of the boots. At Waipukurau I obtained a professional opinion . from the local snob as to whether they weie worth repairing. lie said no, so I leserved my capital. Sonic 26 miles from Napier I stayed at Williams's station, To Arite. There were twelve wallabis in all slaying there that night. I arrived late, and, attracted by a hubbub of voices, I went to a well-lighted building. In it there wore a large number of young Maoris learning their lessons. I was directed by a boy to go across to the homestead, where I would receive a shakedown. At this station I learnt that unfortunate devils on the road are never refused food and shelter, I .stayed there all night. We had a substantial tea, and next morning, aftei laving in a still more substantial breakfast, I continued the even tenor of my way. I readied Napier that night, and left next morning after endeavouring unsuccessfully to obtain employment. .My capital upon leaving Napier was reduced to lid, and this amount I saved until I reached the Mohaka Hotel, where I invested it in a Sunday's dinner and borne tobacco and matches. The dinner at ordinary rates would be Is 6d, but the landlord, upon learning the shatteied state of my finances, gracefully "waived all ceremony. I lelt relieved when I got rid of that lid. It was amost awkward sum, and really burnt a hole in my pocket. I stayed at a station some 12 miles from Napier. There were four other swaggers staying at the same place that night. One of them informed me he had been one of a gang of 65 men working at Patea. The men had been paid off suddenly, and a good many had to shoulder their swags and tramp the country. It is not pleasant to leflect on tlie.se things. The wages of 65 men at £2 a week — and that is a high average in winter — for 3 ' months comes to £1,560. The Governor's I salary alone is £7,500 a year, or exactly £5,500 too much even if his duties were onerous. When one considers the amount of money in salaries and expenses coolly pocketed by Ministers of the Crown, M.L.C s and Governor, in a colony of half .a million inhabitants, and the fact that numbers of men able and willing to work have periodically to bog their way through the country, or staive in town, or go to gaol, then one cannot but feel contempt for a Premier who stated that) the Government could not alftnd to pay more than 4s a day to the unemployed. In a colony so thinly populated as Ne,v Zealand, it is absurd to argue that it is a difficult thing to deal with the unemployed question. The i"oot of the difficulty is simply that so much money is criminally wasted in fattening the lawmakers of the colony and their friends and supporters that there is none to spare for a period ot distress. The Government never seems' to put by anything for this kind of rainy day. They preach but never start to practise economy where it should commence —at home. The day I reached Taupo I walked 24 miles without having anything to eat. After my day's journey I was regaled with bread and meat. After leaving Mohaka I was surprised to see the Maoris working on Sunday — cross-cut sawing, delving and burning, etc. In my blissful ignorance I thought they were strict Sabbatarians. Some 12 miles on the Auckland side of Taupo I was offered a job by a native gentleman. He was lying with a blanket wrapped round him among the tussacs by the roadaide. He said he would give me 20s a-week, and produced silver and notes in proof of his capacity to pay. I declined, because I did not like the idea of being bossed by a man who had so little regard for decency as to lie in a blanket by the roadside. I reached Auckland on the Ist September, having walked the distance in 21 days. Bad boots and want of money handicapped me, or I would have done the distance in shorter time. I cannot conclude this sketch without stating that I might have spun it out until it reached the dimensions of a thirty-shillingthree-volume novel, but my walk was not a pleasant journey, and it therefore gives me little pleasure to recount my experience. I did not wish to rush after hard work, because I reckoned it would take me six weeks to earn an outfit, and, moreover, I saw plenty of men out of work who appeared to be more handy than lam at labouring wox'k. Although lam no slush at gorse cutting, harvesting, driving, etc., "hard graft" is not in my line.— Vich Alpine Dhu.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TAN18871126.2.60

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Te Aroha News, 26 November 1887, Page 7

Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,337

THE LAND OF THE SHORN LAMB. From Wellington to Auckland on Foot. (Concluded. ) Te Aroha News, 26 November 1887, Page 7

THE LAND OF THE SHORN LAMB. From Wellington to Auckland on Foot. (Concluded. ) Te Aroha News, 26 November 1887, Page 7

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