The Novelist. A TON OF GOLD! OR, THE NARRATIVE OF EDWARD GREWE.

Thames Star, Volume VII, Issue 2159, 4 December 1875, Page 4

The Novelist. A TON OF GOLD! OR, THE NARRATIVE OF EDWARD GREWE.

By W. M. B.

A Tale of Local Interest.

Chapter VIII.~ Continued.

It is nine miles from the dam to the " boom " at the mouth of the creek.

I placed three men at the dam to let her off, and also to guide the logs in the pond above, towards and through the " flume." Five men I ordered to a place about three miles below the dam, where there is an awkward turn in the creek, and where a "jam" is likely to occur. To another bad place two miles further I sent five more men. The remaining seven and least active of the party I stationed two miles above the boom, where they had to lend a hand as occasion may require. All were armed with either a " pike-pole," timberjack, or axe. At the hour appointed the men are at their posts, the parties stripped to trousers, short-sleeved flannel shirts and boots, ready for a run alongside the creek, not that they could keep up with the logs during the first four miles of their career down the stream, but by cutting off the bends the men were not generally much behind, and always came up with the logs when they got into more tranquil waters and before they reached the boom. If there was a jam, as happened sometimes, it was the duty of the meu to use the utmost exertion to set it free. Two long logs weuld perchance unite in an apex up stream, others following make the matter worse, and unless the logs were immediately started, the jam would become a fixture..... ,

The body of water bearing the logs on its crest and rushing along the bed of the creek, was a, gigantic wave, like the " bore "of some tidal rivers. The logs appeared to ride before and upon the wave, those that met with obstruction against the banks or were detained in a back eddy soon stranded, and there i*emained until another fresh floated them farther on their way; indeed it rarely happened that a log,would travel)all the nine miles of winding creek in one drive. Before completing the dam, I had expected great trouble, from the,; doors knocking themselves to pieces. Yet although the pressure of water against them. was great, snd the. moment the trigger was pulled they flashed open and struck the sides of the " flume/ still not with such force as to do damage.

I had made: many contrivances to moderate the Bhock,,but afterwards found that they were quiteihinnecessary. There are many other plans adopted in the construction of flood-dams, but it is my experience that the foregoing is the best.

We frequently had one or two of our distant neighbours to witness the fun and excitement of a drive, and once a party of travellers from Auckland who were "doing" the bush, paid us a visit. Several ladies were in their company, one of .whom "maybe" will to this day relate the thrilling narrative of that day's adventures :—how, falling from the huge lim£ of a tree that formed an extemporary bridge across a side creek, she was bravely rescued from possible drowning by one of the bushmen present, who, " bearded like the pard," had been more active than the others during the drive. He was dripping like a merman, his shirt in ribbons from funning through the forest not to mention any other garments, except that he wore in place of hat or cap a piece of young supple jack-vine twisted round bis head.

Arrived at the mill, the _ logs were hauled up " ways" as required on the mill-floor. Here they were rolled upon the carriage appertaining to the vertical saw. The frame of this saw was wide enought to admit the passage of a log six feet in diameter. By means of this we reduced the logs to " flitches," which were then passed over to the circular-saw. At the near side of this saw we had a moveable bench or table of wood twenty inches wide by thirty feet long. The saw being in motion, we had certain gear by which this carriage could be "gigged backwards or forwards or fed forwards.

Suppose a piece of timber—a flitch. Dine inches by twenty-four and sixteen feet long is on the carriage; and that we intend cutting, nine by three-quarter boards. After taking off a "face " cut, setting the gauge rollers, and placing the flitch in position, the man at the head, starts the machinery. " Kreash," saj- s the saw, and in twelve seconds she is out at the other end. The man at the "..tail" at that instant reveases the motion of the table, which gigs back. The man at the head having given the new cut board a tip, it -runs on rollers downhill out of the mill. At the proper* moment, and as the man at the head again starts the machinery forward, both men force the piece of timber against the guage-rollers, and another boardis cut, proceeding with !the work at the rate of about four boards, sixteen, feet long. by three-quarters in a minute, which, as timber is measured in the Colonies, would be forty-eight feet superficial, or 2880 in an hour, or 28,800 in a day of ten hours, but the loss of time in getting fresh timber on the carriage, changing the saw, and delays of various kinds was so great that I always considered 10,000 feet a good day's work for a circular-saw. . We always kept a fine stream of water running against both sides of the saw.. A circular to work effectively requires —speed, to be perfectly well sharpened, a strong spindle, a wide and not over-tight belt, water on the saw, fully ten-horse power to drive her, and two men with life in them to work her. Having, after one of my trips to Auckland, discharged my cargo, I set off on my return voyage to the milJ, .Na laima only being with me. # }..' We were rery light, not having any ballast on board the schooner, and on our way to Drunken Bay, where we proposed £akW ia kalf a dozen .dingy-loads of scoria) stones. We nearly turned bottom sipw.avds, Fairy was so crank when iiagh out .of the water as scarcely to have aav legs at ail to st*us upon.. ■ ■ ■ It was mw intention ; to .call mat Jiiko%hakariri, parity to e«*e the, fjape and wily tovisit some irieuds oi quo? WOP Jjv-d'H tliaC bay, tio nffev getting the

schooner into fair good trim with a few tons of ballast, we shaped our course across the Frith of Thames and for the above long-named locality. ■ It was late in tho afternoon when we sailed from Drunken Bay, and as night came on it began to blow rather fresh, and "glad we were" that the scorte stones were nicely stowed in tho hold. Na Taima was one .of those natives who being more sprightly and intelligent than common, used frequently in the early days of the colony to annex themselves to the establishment of a white man, when after tasting the sweets of civilization as supplied to them from their pakeha's society and his store, nothing but a wife forced upon them by their tribe, or some equally great hindrance to their happiness, would compel these aborigines permanently to« forsake the blessings attendant on a well-filled pipe, a sufficiency of clothing, and the white man's occasional companionship. As the night wore on the breeze freshened up into half a gale, but that was of no great consequence, for the wind was fair, our chief anxiety being whether we could hit the anchorage* There is no har* bour at Jftkowhakariri, and the bay is only partially sheltered from the full force of a westerly blow by islands. There is a little nook to be sure where two or three vessels can find room whilst at anchor to swing clear of each other. The night was very dark, tod, as we. neared the land, I repeatedly questioned Na Taima as to his knowledge of the locality. Haying never been to this place myself, everything depended upon my Maori companion. We soon were close enough in to hear the roar of the breakers on the rocks, and, dark as it was, to see them too; Ua Taima was forward on the look-out, I was steer-

ing by his direction. We appeared to me to be going right ashore. Presently I heard my companion busy getting both anchors ready, which was ominous. Just, however, as I was sure another minute would see us on the rocks, my look-out forward sung out for me to luff, and I saw we were passing an island. He now hurriedly explained that it would be impossible for us to gain the proper anchorage, but must bring up under the partial shelter of this island and trust to the chains holding until the wind moderated. He thought they wouldhold; if they did not, we must simply go to smash ashore. We quickly got all the head-sail off the schooner, leaving only the mainsail, and that was reefed and scantalized. We then let go first one anchor and then the other, veering out all the chain of the one and the greater length :of the other, using our best skill to equalise the strain. We then stowed away the sails and even unrove many of the ropes so as to present the least possible surface to the gale. After having thus made all as snug as we could we went below, and, striking a light, had a nip from a certain square bottle of gin, that happened to be on board. : ""'*' Ahba," I said to my Maori companion " we are in a bad place, but I think if the anchors only get a good hold it will be all right. The chains which are good and new will not part. But just look upon deck and see if-we are dragging. , : Presently N"a Taima returned below to say all was well,,we had not changed our position. There is no part of a ship's equipment of more importance than that denominated' ground-tacklins- To the fact of that on board my schooner being of the best quality, and of a size and strength usually found on vessels many tons above the Fairy's measurement, I am indebted for the saving of the schooner and almost certainly our lives as well. I ones chanced to be in a large ship badly found in the aboye particular, and when off no less dreaded a place than the Goodwin Sands, many of our sails being blown away and having let go our two anchors, the chain of one parted, after bearing the strain only a few minutes, and the other would doubtless have followed suit, but, not getting a good hold, we dragged for five miles, when, fortunately for ourselves and the underwriters, the wind moderated.

; But to return. lS ra Taima and myself finding the anchors held, concluded it to be of no use keeping any watch, so, turning into our bunks, we were soon fast asleep, nor did we once awaken during the night, our previous fatigue and excitement making us careless of the chance of going on the rocks. . In the morning the wind had died away, and after breakfast we proceeded to shorten in the chain of either cable, but as to our ability to bust the anchors from their hold on some rock at the bottom, we were utterly without sufficient power, and would certainly have lost a tide had it riot been for my friends, Messrs. Reeve, who, seeing the position of the schooner, came off to us in a whale boat, and, by dint of numbers and main force, one at a time lifted our anchors up into the region of daylight. . Messrs. Eeeve's sawmill was situated about half a mile from the beach, and all the timber, for lack of a better arrangement, was carried out by men,—notably by one strong little man, who stuck at this kind of work day after day and all day long, trotting bVer the rouj^h path that led from the. mill to- the beach with a heavy load of boards on his shoulder. His costume was of the simplest description, consisting of a shirt and .short petticoat or kilt of navy-blue print—sans hat trousers, stockings, or shoes.: No one could pompete with the little man at. this kind of work. It was his forte. Some people I have heard remark that " surely his skeleton or bony framework differed from that of other men, that instead of possessing twelve pair of ribs, this mighty dwarf had, in place' thereof, a. bony arrangement all in one piece." . After a few days' visit at this place, Na Taima and myself again set sail, and in due course arrived at our home. As I' mentioned before, I had a mixed party of " hands " at the mill, both whites and Maories. i There was nothiDg-remarkable in any ■of the Europeans.: The usual run of bushmen are .either discharged soldiers, or. those waifs so common in the Colonies, who never seem to have been anything and about whose antecedents it was not considered courteous to inquire too pointedly, or runaway sailors. There was a floating' population in. colonies long.before the gold diggings so notably encouraged thousands of adventurers to overrun the country. Certainly it is marvellous how men-^-they were for the.nipst part men —so diverse to each other in education and bringing up, could associate and work together as they did in those "good old times; "no one of the working bushmen being esteemed better than another, who possibly an officer, late of Her; Majesty's service-, a doctor, a runaway whaler, and an old ■'■'• lij.g'" iwere working harmoniously side

by side, and calling each other by their Christian namea.

Let me recall the Europeans in my employ at this time. A discharged soldier from tho 58th Regiment; a runaway man-of-war's man from H.M.S. Pandora, at that time surveying the coastline of iNevv Zealand; a doctor " under a cloud ; " a runaway from a New Bedford whale-ship; a French Count-—Le Blanc by name'the latter, who was staying with me more as a friend, though he used to lend a hand when required; a Portugeo from the Azores; a runaway sailor from a mer-chant-ship—JN"'.B. This last, a rqgular South Sea scamp; another discharged soldier, and, lastly, an Irishman. I name this man last, because I have a little story to, relate, in the which my Hibernian sawyer is the hero. *■ ; • Peter O'Sullivau had not been many weeks in my employ when one day, backed j by his mate the South Sea scamp —these men usually have" mates " and are hired in pairs—he begged to have a few words with me.

" If you please, sir," he began, " I want to ask a great favour of you, which,' if you will grant me. I will work for you like a horse: you are the best master I ever had, and I mean to stick td you, sir, and work out my debt; " these fellow's were always in one's debt, "and," he continued in the true Irish blarneying kind of manner, " me and my mate here think very highly of you, Mr Crewe." "Well, Peter," I replied, annoyed at having, as I suspected, something disagreeable to grant to the pair before me, " what is it you want ? a bottle of grog ? because if you do, you will not get it; I have none in the store." "No," he said, "it was not grog he wanted." " Well then, what is it ?"

But Paddy could not find words to name his want which was wondrful for an Irishman, and I might have waited listening to more blarney, and be nowise nearer to the point, except for his mate, who-quietly informed me that Peter had won the con-, sent of a young native woman to be his wife, but which consent was very little good to him unless backed by that of the chief who claimed the girl as his property; as indeed she rightfully and properly was. Was he not the Hangitira of her tribe, and her uncle as well, and her nearest relation then living ? of course he might dispose of her as he pleased; the likes or dislikes of the girl herself were, as was correct, a matter of small import, a fact of which the young lady in question was fully aware, and wishing, doubtless, to obtain a sufficiency of print, calico, and black silk ribbon, also a smart Panama hat, plenty of tobacco, and nothing much to do; a luxurious state of things hardly attainable at the kainga Maori, where her daily life would be one of much hardship and some toil; it had been her thought that Peter should appeal to me, and endeavour to induce me to win for this happy and ounning pair of lovers the consent of the chief, for.was not Mr Crewe Wiremu's friend; and also, as something would have to pass to the Rangitira as payment after his consent was gained, was not Mr Crewe the man to give the money to Peter as an advance of his wages. "And how much money does Wiremu ask for the girl ? " I demanded of the enamoured Irishman.

" Oh, sir! he wants £5, but will, lam sure, take less," replied Peter grudgingly. "And will £5 buy this dear charmer out-and-out, do you suppose ? I tell you what Peter, you are an ass, and will be for ever bothered with a crowd of your Maori wife's relations, who will live upon you." But Peter returned to the charge, asking me to use my influence with the chief, at the same time dexterously praising my skill as a Maori.talker, and that a word from me coupled with a little payment in money, would bring about the result he so much desired.

Up to that time it had never fallen to my lot to purchase either on commission or otherwise, an article of the above description, and for the fun of the thing amidst the profuse thanks of the Irishman, I promised to conclude the bargain with the chief

The following morning, after buying a couple of fat pigs from Wiremu, 1 took the opportunity of. naming the foregoing little love affair of tiiy man, Peter O'Sullivan, and the wahini of his tribe, named Tihori. My aristocratic pig-merchant was. in no way surprised, indeed I presume was cognisant of the whole matter, his view of ihe subject being that the opportunity was one by which he could gain a little present cash, and have a certain tithe on all the future earnings of weak Peter O'Sullivan.

After some little chaffering with the chief, I succeeded in purchasing the girl for £2 down, and a balance of £3 to be paid in three months' time—not by me— for he was clearly made to understand that he had to, look to Peter for future payment. I may as well relate of this couple, that, as far as Iknow, they " lived happy ever afterwards," always excepting the festive seasons of Christmas, St. Patrick's Day, and the 4th of July, on which occasions all my men got very drunk on grog carefully ordered from town Tor that purpose, during which periods of enjoyment my Irish savage always threatened his Maori wife with annihilation. After a time, however, Tihori arrived at a more perfect knowledge of the wonderful ways of the Pakeha, and having ascertained beforehand when the grog was coming from the town, would hide away during the day-time in the bush —a dense kaikatia forest.growing within a stone's cast of her house; from this vantageground of espial she would wonderingly observe Peter and'the other whites", day after day, making swine of themselves; and when night came on she would lake up her quarters with a small tribe of her own people, who were then living in the neighbourhood.

Truly this poor Maori girl was superior to her degraded and brutish, mate, who was only fit to be yoked to one of those denions iv human —I allude to the white bushwoman—-creatures cf a mature age, hideous to look upon, without an apparent good quality, always drunken when opportunity was found, excelling the rough, reckless bushmen as the female can and will excel the male in the vices belonging to hopeless millions of man■kind. ": ■■'■■■ •';■ ■ ■'■■'■■ • -'-'■■ To be continued* :•.