MICK HOULAHAN AND THE "NAGURS." By DONALD CAMERON.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1899, 6 September 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

MICK HOULAHAN AND THE "NAGURS." By DONALD CAMERON.

Some Maoriea had been to oar camp one day, to sell pigs, peaches, and potatoes — most acceptable luxuries— and were somewhat disappointed because we conld not give them whiskey in return. In the evening, when we were sitting in the moonlight smoking our pipes, Mick, who had been very meditative, suddenly broke the silence. " Perhaps, bhoys, ye wouldn't think I was wansht a king ?" "On the stage?" queried our satirist. " I thought you would do more service there carrying a banner." : " Ah-yah," retorted Mick ; " the only use they'd have for you would be to coo-e-ee from the wings ; the pit'd never bear to see yonr spindle, shanks. However, bhoys, I was wansht a king, a rael king— — " "Of the Cannibal Islands," said the un- ; abashed satirist. j " You've just hit it," replied Mick, " only ' there wasn't an island." J " Tell us all about it, Mick, and never mind him," we chorused. " Well, bhoys,"- said Mick, settling himself for a "yarn," "you must know that wansht when I was hard up— the fault in the whiskey — I took a run into a wild part of the counthry, intinding to hire on a station as Jimmy t)ueks — roustabouts they call thim now. I didn't know much about the bush thin, for I was about as grane as a cabbage. I waadhered an' wandhered until I intoirely lasht meself. [ Thin I gey way, an' prayed to all the saints and those up beyant. Afther a while, I thought to meself thim good paple had betther business than showing a roustabout the road, I and that if I was to foind it, I'd betther use the sivin pinses that had been given me for that purpose. So I wint lookin' about me, an' it washn't long before I dhropped right upon a camp of blaok fellows. 'Twouldn't be aisy to say which was most frightened, me or thim black haythins. At all evints, there was a pair iv us, as the divil said to his mother whin she bate him — only there was moro than a pair of thim. I should think there was fifty iv thim squatted around a big fire -where they were roastin' a kangaroo, for there was no sheep and oattle thin for thim. I don't think that tribe had seen a white man— for I'd gone oat of the thrack—

though, o! conrso, they'd heard iv thim. The gins made to run, and the bucks stood on the fight and handled their spears, while the piccaninnies squawked and the dogs howled— the poor oralhurs can't bark, man ; but I felt the creep 9 all over me, an' ssz I, rernimberin' what the ould people saidlin Ireland, ' Mick Houlahan, yell be gfillin' there afora this day's much oldher.' But, to thry an' paoify thim, I threw np me arrms an' called oat I waa lasht. Tha young ones seemed to wish to dhrill a hole through ma wld their spears, to spa whethar me blood was as white as me shkin, but an ould man, who was black as me boot, barrin' hid hair — that was white as the snow— seemed to think betther of it, and he oursed at them in his own lingo, and tould them to hould an— at lashte, I took it to be that. Ho looka at me mighty narrow — he was a cunning ould shkamer— to see J'd no "pouf poufs," as the crathurs call firearms. When he law I'd nothing, and. thai I was pacefully inolined, he kern nearer, and we houlds a fine conversation inlirely— only divil a word did we nnderahtand ot what aich other said — perhaps that was all the betther. I've an iday, from the way he wint an that he was tellin' what a mighty man he was, how many he'd killed, an' what big mm his thriba wor— the lyin' ould scoundrel. I thought the beshfc thing I could do was to pretend hunger, an' make signs for something to ate, for I've heard if a nagur ates wid you there's a chance he won't ate you — though I wouldn't thrust thim for a minyute, the desavin' divils. "Howiver, the onld shkamer cooled down ; after a bit, and made feigns to come to the feiet, and the other blacks kern round an' looked at me as if I wor a wild bashte. I took a kangaroo's rib from the ould thafs an' ate it hearty, for mind you I tea-? hungry. An' nioe enough it tastad. They oflerea me some mud turkle, bake?! in the ashes ; but the shmell was mate enough for me the remainder of the day. I did ate a few yams, which tashted nice enough, if it worn'i; for the fingers that'd handled 'em. " Then the ould chaif set me buildin' amia mia in the yong min'g qtiarther — they wouldn't allow us near the dacinfc married people. By-the-bye, the ould man had three wives, and he used to pate them ivery mornin' for breakfast. What a philHbaloo they kick up. A woman's a woman undher a bkek or a white shkin, and the first thing she thinks of when there's anythin' unusual is to set np her pipes. An' for the matthor iv tongue, thim black women are as good at that weapon 0,9 Ih&ir white slathers. I've seen the ould chaif, of whom all the mm were afeard, run away into the buah whin his raal wife, the ould witch Oulouran began to baste him wid her tongue, and 'twas a long one. "But aa thimffellows who write stories says, I'm divargin'. 'The weather wae warm, so I got on well enough in me gunyah if it wasn't for thim black boys. You know I've long held the opinion that the divil possesses all boys until they begin to think of the girls, an' that tames 'em ; an' black boys ain't a bit different to white ottos, only perhaps the ctivll's a bit sthronger in thim, owin' to the color being favorable to him. 11 Well, I lived with that thribe 'or nearly a year, and I'd some quare experiences. I soon learned to parlyvoo in their own brogue, an' many a yarn the ould chaif tould me about what a man he'd been— ould mm have always done wondhers. He'd no son alive, hiq only one bein' kilt some years back in a fight over a woman, but he'd a nephew who was to be king whin he died; a great hulking fellow who'd run away twice wid the ciiaifs youngest wife. When they got tired of wandherin' in the bush they kern back, and the thafe 'of a nephew only got blown up while the girl was oaten— l was goin' to say black and blue, but that wouldn't be correct. The name of this [shkamerin' thafe iv the world was Thoulouron— they wur strong on the on's wur that tribe, for the ohaif's name was Poulouron. The yeung thafe didn't like me at all, an' he'd have speared me in a i minyufce if I didn't keep me eyes open and the ould chaif didn't warn him. " I wasn't long wid thim before I showed tbim how to do a lot of things they niver thought of. Among other things I taught the chaif how to do somo dacint cookin'. There niver was a man more plased than he was, for he was fond of his belly. I u?ed to ketch fish for him an' fry thim on the coals, so that the ould thafe's eyes would wathejr with pleasure. An' what an appetite he had — poor sowl, it was the death iv him in the md. I've known me ketch a 121b. oodfish, and he wouldn't lave a scrap on the bones in a dacint time. If his wives asked for a bite he'd rap'm on the head wid his waddy— an' a mighty heavy arrm he had for an 1 ould man. Thin he'd shtretch himself out in the sun, and divil a word he'd sphake until he'd got the best of the fish, the ould boa constructor I "They thought so much iv me that they wanted to hould a bora and make a yong man iv me, but whin I found out all the ceremonies I'd have to go through I cried off. Jumpin' about like a kangaroo, dhressed in nothin' but a wisp o' grass behind and a wisp of grass before, didn't suit me. So I made out I'd been made a yong man be me own people an 1 the chaif, who oouldn't bear, to part wid me, or rayther, wid me cookery,' said that was enough. "At lasht the ould chaif 'a belly proved the md iv him. I'd gone out on a hunt and brought home two beautiful fish, a wallaby, six ducks, five teal, a porcupine, an' one beautiful plump wonga pigeon. I set to work cookin', an' the chaif kep up to me like a Briton. Bat I made one mishtake. Through thoughtlessness I forgot to cook the pigeon early. Whin it was just about done, an' while I was brushin' off the ashes, the ehalf began to show signs of distress, rowling about and groanin'. But whin he casht eyes upon the beauty he conldn'fc resist it. An 1 'twa3 a beauty, brown as a berry and burshtin' wid Juices. Now the chaif was a matt that'd niver been baten whin grub was about, an' though he couldn't get off the ground, he was so filled up, he raches out for that bird and ates it. Poor Poulouron, that was the lasht wonga he gobbled. He was shtiff the next mornin'. ."In coorse there was a great hallabaloo, an' any amount of arntics, tearin' hair out be the roots an' lettin' the blood flow. I kept my hair and blood, I can tell you. "Whin the ould chaif was buried in the fork of a three— where he was to remain till the jumped up whitefellow— that thafe Thoulouron raised a great row and declared I'd killed the ould man. Some took me part, others Thoulouron's, and we were about to come to blows, or rather spears, when ould Oulouron, his quane, who'd cast sheep's eyes on me, the old witoh, cut the argument short by proposin' that us two would fight for the chaiftainship. " That was a poser to me, for Thoulouron was a natty lad at the spear an' the boomerang, and could use a hielaman or shield wid any of the tribe. But whin did yon know an Irishman at wit's end, because there's no md to them, I got up an' said I was ready to 'fight Thoulouron wid anythin', from a stone in a stocking upwards; but I wint on to argue that only the sthrongest man should rule, an' proposed that we should wrestle, an' whoever should throw his inimy first should be king. Thoulouron, who thought he was as sthrong as a lion— so he was, but didn't 1 know how to use his sthrenth— fell into the .trap. I Bint him flyin' in a jiffey and was . declared king, an' ould Oulouron w ( anted me; to take her for wife there an' thin I I'va heard some pote say ' Onaisy lies the head

that wears a crown,' an' indeed I belave it— perhaps he had an Onlouron in view. "Howiver, I put it off f or the present by Purtindin' I'd Certain Ceremonies to perform in the bush all by mesilf. So 65 1 seb, afid not a foot did I reat till I got to a settlement which I'd learnt -was beyant the mountains. I coold shtand lots of things— <stgq the mad tarlsle, bud I couldn't stomach Ouloorofl." "Ah," s&id tbe «atidst, " bat yon had wives, no doubt ? " 41 Perhaps," replied Mick, knocking «ha ashes out of hia pipe, " an' perhaps not — mor« likely not, for them Nftgura don 'ft akmell aiS Bwate as whishkey."