CHAPTER III. THE ERUPTION.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 329, 29 December 1888, Page 3

CHAPTER 111. THE ERUPTION.

For some minutes after Violet's abrupt) departure, Claude stood quite still, with the" look of a man who has received a sudden shock. lie had fancied he was prepared for a refusal, but he certainly had not expected the sort of slap in-the-face one he had. received. And thon it flashed through his mind that ho' had read somewhere that a girl's pott, gentle, deprecating refusal was pretty generally a final one ; but that an abrupt, hasty one could frequently be changed to an acceptance. He lighted a eignr- man's universal consolation for" all ills is in the soothing influence of a good smoke— and paced up and down the verandah. How long he had been walking he did not know, till he was startled b'y hearing his bi other's window opened, and John said, • For goodness sake, old fellow," J top that quarter-deck tramp. It's like < lightmai c. Can't you go to sleep ?' • I'm awfully sorry I've disturbed you,', >l poor Claude, ' I'll go to my own room. 1 1 Well, don't walk there, anyhow,' said his' brother, anil closed the window. Claude gently .shut- the front door af tei' iim,. and ciept a'ong the now dark passage to liHo\viii'odtn, carefully oaloulating'howfaf . down it r\va«s r \va«5 Mtuatod, He struck a match ii 10-ichihtr it. a«d lighting his candle, sat Jowii to read, reeling sleep to bo quite out' )f the question.^ „ , He 'vn? jubl thinking that as it was get;f; f ting) very, uUio it was time ho turned. in if he , meant tujiav'e any rest that-night, .when he

I ■■■■-!■ .1111 ■! ■ I I I I ■■ 1.-1.11.11 l 11l ■■"■ ■«*« "I— Mlllill <•*/ was conscious of a slierhfc shock of earthquake. His first thought was of Violet. iSho had doubtless never experienced anytiling of the kind before, and she might be alai mod if ifc woke her. He opened his dooi and waited a minute or so, when another earthquake, much heavier than the first, f-hook the jiouse. He heard a frightened cxcLnnation ftoin Violet's room, and she appeared at the door attired in a pale blue wrapper, her long hair streaming over hei aboul.ler.3, her face very white. She sprang towards Claude. , •Oh ! I am terrified ! What is the ~ t matter? Oh, what is that?' as another" quake followed, and then, another, till the trembling girl lost count. .Meantime the whole household had been , thoroughly roused, and gathered to lthc lirrht visiblo from Claude's door. The children, of course, were crying. Probably they might not ha\e awakened at* first, but !*! * for the nurse-girl S sci earns. Suddenly theie was aloud report, or roar, winch clici'ed shrieks of terror from the frightened ' servants, and the nurse-girl exclaimed, ' Oh, it's the end of the world ! Constance flung herself into John's arms, and Claude made a dash for the door to learn, if possible, what these appalling sounds might mean. Violet ran after him. • Claude,' she gasped in a hoarse whisper, 1 if it's really the end of the world, 1 must • tell you something first. -Forgive me foi . speaking a-s I did on the verandah. It was not tiue ; I did not mean what I said.' UJaude flung an arm around her. ' Tell me you love me, Violet ! It's not the end of the world, as those idiots ara -sayi J ng r and>if«on,ly you "love tne, I trust iwe t shall be spared tor many happy years yet. Don't bo flightened, darling !' as more reports or explosions — they could not tell >vhat they were— roacbed them. 'I believe it's a man-of-war in distress, firing guns.' He opened the door ad 'he , =poke. It faced Mount Tarawera. Therewas % hill between them and the volcano, but the} could see a terrible lurid light in the sky, ' Good heavens P exclaimed the young man. 'Surely that must be an eruption 1 Tr«rawcra has broken out ! ' They were now joined by the whole party, who stood for. a lew minutes watching the bright light, till it seemed suddenly to give place to a dense black cloud,, from which lightning of * peculiar blood-red tint flashed at intervals, accompanied with.terrific roara of thunder. _ , , Though Mr FewartV place" jV^as over twenty miles from the scene of the eruption, che noi-e was frightfully , loud j indeed) it was heard in Auckland, some. 150 miles off, so distinctly as to waken many people. At 1 this time the Avind* was blowingaway from the homestead, . and towards the •volcano. - Later on, however, all became inky black, and John said .he thought the wind must have changed, and the smoke was drifting in their direction. ' Is there any danger of lava coming our way and overwhelmingus?' asked Constance, her teeth chattering as much from the ex-treme-cold as from fear. ' I don't think. so,' said John, * our house is situated on pretty high around so that >we are safe,' whilst* we have a better view of this magnificent sight than our neighbours,' he added, lightly, trying to dissipate tho terror visible in'the faces round him. 'You had -better all go back to your, rooms and dress, and cook shall make a firaf and get v's some warm tea 7 eh, Constance ?' T-hey all retired- in 'accordance- with Mr Fewart's suggestion, though he remained on the verandaih'witb Claude. - ' Why, you haven't been. to hed at all,' ho Remarked. ' ..»_..--. • No,' answered Claude, ' bufc I'm fro7-en. Ijmust get a great coat,' and he went in. '•" John followed his example .and .made a few additions to his toilet and, after "lighting the hall lamp, rejoined.- his brother on' ' the verandah. ' I declare,', said. Claude, ' I don't half like this. There's another, earthquake. How fearfully dark-it is', too !'_ - Violet came up to them again,.and Claude drew herhand through his arm, asking her if she was very well wrapped up. She assured him she was, then, finding Constance did not come, she went to the diningroom tolhelp her with the children. They were^'huddledaround a fire which Constance was endeavouring to coax into- a cheerful blaze. She/turned round as her sister spoke to her: 'The servants are quite useless; Can you dress Katherine ?' Violet took the little girl, who was wrapped in a warm blanket, on her knee, and proceeded, somewhat awkwardly it must be owned, to clothe the sleepy wee lady. - Then she was cosily laid amongst the sofa cushions, and Violet helped her little nephews with their dressing operations. , During this process she whispered to Constance, ' I am sure John thinks we are in danger of some sort, or he would never hay e told us to dress, would he? It would be much more like him to call us silly givls and tell us to go to sleep again.' ' Well, you'll see,' Constance made answer in the same low tones. ' I suppose no one knows, when there is a volcanic disturbance of this kind, how far it will go. It has come so suddenly, perhaps it will stop equally abruptly. It seems quieter now. Harold, run and tell your father tea is ready.' Both gentlemen came in to partake of tho favourite colonial beverage in temperance families, and Claude .said they had been down to the gate with a lantern, and as they could see nothing but dense black night all around, with continuous flashes of light; ning, they were -inclined to think that it' had been only a most extraordinary tropical thunderstorm,, with balls of fire and earthquakes as its concomitants. This somewhat relieved the ladies, and they sat round the fire talking. Just about five o'clock they heard voices, and going to the vei*andah, they found Captain Pinto and Mr Acton. They told John that they had been spending the ievening with some friends living on the jßotorua road. Coming home they had heard a terrific explosion, and felt severe earthquakes, which had so frightened their horses that they became quite unmanageable, and finally bolted. "" t - r 1 The poor things were literally .trembling with fright, when we at length .pulled them up close to our place. We came on, here to see how you fared,' said Captain Pinto. ' It's so fearfully dark, wo lost our way several 1 times, though.' ' What has really happened,?' said John. * We are in a great state of excitement, bufr •are not at all sure what it is all about.' • • There is-no doubt there is a tremendous volcanic eruption somewhere, said Captain " Pinto, ' but no one seems sure whether it is Tongariro or Tarawera that has suddenly become active. My own , impression is that it is the latter.' ■As he, spake they heard a coo-ec; and a Maori appeared. Ho .was instantly beset by eager questions,' >to. all of which [boshook {his head, till John addressed i him ■in his native tongue. Unfortunately, Mr Fewart'a knowledge of the language was very limited, - andihe >T could'not understand much. of,\what -the Maori, said. ' But when helped to expr'ess^ himself ,in broken . English he ■ was fairly intelligible. , /v/ v v, ' 5 . . ' Tarawera mountain, himbprn.^Bakeba take.wahine to-Tauranga.',- 4 ''I'v^f^- • Why, should ftake the chiW^ep>|o^Tau«' ranga?' said John. 'Do you "think wi^ are in any danger here ?' -*/"• '- ■ -ffff& r 1 At that moment there camera yerylsevero chock' df^earthquake,, lasting;.^ully ,thi«ty

seconds, followed by some frightful oxplo-, aions. John hurried them ail out of tho house/ for fe*r of the chimneys coming clown. But the whole place shook ; 'windows and doors rattled in a most alarming manner ; several china ornaments fell, and were broken, whilst crockery all over suffered considerable damage. 'It's snowing now, Claude,' exclaimed Violet, • actually snowing. What an awful night we are having '' 'It is not snowing, Miss Mayson, 1 said Mr Acton ; ' it's dust or ashes from tho volcano. Look here !' and he held out his hand in the light from the lantern, covered with what looked like fine grey dust. * I think we had better take shelter in the stable,' said Claude. 'It is built, and there are no chimneys to fall on us.' * Oh, let us go right away, somewhere,' • pleaded Constance piteously, clasping little Katherine closer in her arms. 'It is too awful to stay here. Lefc us go to Tauranga.' 4 Come to the stable whilst we talk it over, anyhow,' said Claude ; and the party made their way thither, preceded by John with the useful lantern. The Maori had fled when the last earthquake came, whither no one knew, probably to Tauranga. The gentlemen dragged down a quantity of hay to make seats for the ladies and children, and directed th« servants to do the same for themselves. Claude found the stable-lantern, and went back to the house to see that the kerosene lamps, were safety extinguished, ard to brtnVr back ruga and blankets, as it wuj ifcill intensely cold. Mr Acton trout with him, and John drew Captain Pinto aside to discuss the important question of flight. Bufc the Captain strongly Advised him not to attempt such a thing. *To begin with, you couldn't catch the horses, or if you did succeed, they would r probably overturn the buggy at tne next shock of earthquake, or fresh explosion, and your party could not walk far enough to be much safer than where you are now. I really think the worst is over. Anyhow, wait till daylight, which is just at hand, I should say.' At half past six the anxious group in the stable saw, with intense pleasure, that day was at length breaking, and they trusted that the long night of terror and suspense was over. But to their great consternation, in half-an-hour the same intense darkness settled down over the country — at leaafc, ' round that part. The disappointment was all the more keenly felt, as they had been so confident that once the welcome daylight came they would be relieved of the helpless feeling which seemed to oppress them, as well as having their troubles and anxieties 1 considerably lightened. ' What can this terrible darkness mean, John ?' asked Constance in aD awe-struck voice. '1 expect it is another heavy fall of ashes. I hope those fellows won't come to grief on their way home.' For on the first streak of light Captain Pinto and Mr Acton had gone into the house with Mr Fewart for . some refreshment, and started off for their own place, being very anxious about the safety of theii live stock. Uneasiness on the bame score regarding bis own dumb animals was also troubling John, and about seven o'clock he suggested that as things seemed somewhat quieter they should return to the house, and he and Claude would endeavour to Erd the cowa and milk thorn. The two men who usually slept on the premises had fled towards Tauranga at tbe iirst appearance of danger. What had become of those liviug in cottages at some distance, oi course he did not know. The poor cows had crept into a shed erected for thelter in their paddock, and the two gentlemen had great difficulty in inducing even the quiet pet, Blossom, to allow lliem to milk her. As for the other*, they decided they must get cook out to carry tbe lantern, whilst they coaxed or forced them up to the cow-shed. When they re-entered the house they found Constance and Violet in a great state of alarm about them, fearing they had met with pome accident. The ground was covered with ashes, and there was no feed for the animals, so, after a hasty meal, the two brothers set off again to see what could be done. Cook absolutely refused to leave the house, and the two other servants were sitting by the kitchen lire, crying piteously to be taken to their homes in Tauranga. Violet volunteeied to carry tbe light, so as to leave the two men ftee.and, we'l-wrapped up, set off on this novel expedition. They could only move very slowly, and despite the glimmer from Violet's lamp, they were continually stumbling over something. The fowls and ducks especially got in their way, and the dogs added to the confusion. At length, having done the best thej could for the poor creatures, they returned to the house. Through the day shocks of .earthquake occurred at intervals, and though it got much lighter, showers of dust fell continually. Claude managed to catch his horse, and set off for Tauranga to see what was thought of the state of affaird there, and find out if it would be advisable to send the ladies and children to Auckland. When Claude reached the main road he found many people were fleeing from the region round the active volcano. The wildest reports were current about the fearful loss of life in and round Rotorna. Almost eveiyonewas panic-stricken, though later on many deeds of heroism and act? of bravery v/ere brought to light. Reaching Tauranga at length, he found v - most contradictory accounts circulating as to the actual extent of the eruption, the darkness adding greatly to tbe general feeling of alarm and discomfort. The Mayor had telegraphed to Auckland, asking that a steamer might be sent to taka away the refugees, if necessary, and Claude was at first inclined to return home in all baste to fetch the ladies and children to be ready to embark if the steamer should come ; but as the first excitement cooled down a little, he found the general opinion was that the worst was over, and that, in all probability, the eruption would be confined to the vicinity of Tarawera. Unfornately, many lives were lost, about six Europeans and ninety-five natives, and th« beautiful pink and white terraces were destroyed. t When Claude arrived at the homestead late at night, covered with the volcanic dust, which had whirled in clouds around him, half-blinding and choking him, he met with come consolation in the shape of Violet's soft arms around his neck, and a fervent ' I am so thankful you have come back safely,' from her lips. She had been watching for him for some time, and although the thick coating- of ashes on the ground deadened the noise of the horse's hoofs, yet love's quick ear had caught the slam of tbe large gate at the entrance to the drive. She held the lantern whilst he stabled bis exhausted horse, and then he took her in his arms and bestowed a true lover's salute on her blushing cheeks e'er they went into the house. -Claude's account of the disaster was only seoi'tiil-J.'md, and paled before that of a lady sitting in an easy-chair by the fire. She lived close to Rotorna, and had been brought to the Fewart's bouee about midday by her husband. Mr Forker had returned to their home, after a much-needed rest,' to see if he could save anything from the general wreck. Mrs Forker said that they could plainly see Mount Tarawera from their house. The loud continuous roar from the volcano, -before ib culminated in grand explosion, had roused "them from

their sleep, and she, her husband, and three grown-up sons, had rushed outside. They , gazed, almost sbupified, on the sublimely awful spectacle presented by the volcano until a shower of stones and ashes had driven them indoors. The crashing of large stones on the roof made them fear ifc would fall in, and they had hastily dressed thf» iselvea and made their way on foot fron a spot. The sons went to render help to : r equally unfortunate neighbours, but r husband had insisted on her pushing i, until utterly exhausted by her long ti «•• , they reached the house of Captain J ¥ •, who put his horse in the buggy and le c \ husband drive her on to the Fewart's hoy c, all his servants having fled. Constance utterly refused at first to tliink of going to bed, but after they hao d family prayers — the collect in the ben il evening service of the Anglican cl> , 'Lighten our darkness,' which John i io- ( duced in his prayer, sounding so peculi i y appropriate — Mrs Forker retired to Vio ii 1 * room, which the young girl had gladly ,_• . Un trp to the worn-out visitor. John at <sb ( succeeded in inducing Constance to gi -mcl lie down, Violet accompanying her. s'».b the mother insisted on the children'? * being moved into her room, and neithui -f the sisters took their clothes off. Left alone in the dining-room, John said, , •Claude, this may mean utter ruin too^f live stock and farm. This ash deposit >\ ill probably kill all vegetation. What do they Bay about it in Tauranga ?' 'No one knows yet what sort of stuff it is,' answered bis brother. 'It might turn out good for the land, you know, John.' The elder brother sighed. 'It seeing awfully hard after all our labour nnd expenditure to loso everything in one night. Fortunately, not one penny of Conny's money is in the farm, so there is always that to fall back upon.' 'Don't be down-hearted, John,' pail j Claude. 'Let us rather be thankful j have escaped so well. Think of the ten i loss of life and property in the Rotomah.. v district. ' i * Ay ! ' said John, ' that'b so, and if I was not so fearfully tired I don't believe I should be so ungrateful as to grumble. By-fche-by, oJd fellow, Constance tells me I must congratulate you,' and he wrung his brother's hand warmly. ' Thanks,' said Claude. ' I knew you two would be pleased : and I believe I owe my happiness to the eruption. Nothing et ort of thafc would have made Violet confess that she cared for me.' John laughed, but it ended in a tremendous yawn, and Claude left him to his sofa and returned to his room, wondering if the damage to the land from the ash deposit would delay his marriage for years. But things d.id not turn out so badly after all for the Fewarts. After heavy rain had washed away or removed the detrimental portion of the volcanic deposit, combinpd with the influence of air, it was found to be actually beneficial to the s>oil. In the spring the grass began to grow once more, and gradually the traces of the Tarawera eruption at a distance grew faint and ever more indistinct. Long before this Mrs. Forker had left the colony with her husband and sons, offering to take Violet with her. But tbat young lady declined to go then, and Claude said that he would chaperone her himself. 1 In what capacity ? ' paid John. 'As her husband, of course,' dU&uered the lover, proudly. And he <h.l, tor when Violet had enjoyed a real !\ r ew Zealand Christmas, she and Claude were quietly married, and they took a trip t<) England, returning to settle near the homestead, where on that terrible 10th of June they had felt the Tarawera eruption. [The End. 3