War to the Knife 32

War to the Knife 32

"They have no modern craze for equality or socialistic rule?"

 

"None whatever. A chief is born to his exalted rank, which is

undisputed. At the same time, he must keep up to a certain standard

in war or peace, otherwise his _mana_, his general reputation and

influence, would suffer."

 

"And a slave?" inquired he.

 

"Oh, a slave is forced to work at the pleasure of his owner, and may

be killed for any reason or none at all. So also the common people of

the tribe must obey the chiefs, more particularly in war, though, like

those of other nations, they can make their voices heard at critical

times."

 

"And the women?" queried Massinger.

 

"Oh, the women!" said Erena, while a graver __EXPRESSION__ overspread

her face. "I am afraid that they have to work hard, and are not so

much considered as they might be. They do most of the cultivation,

mat-making, cooking, and general household duties, particularly when

grown old. The younger ones have a better time of it."

 

"So they have everywhere. It is the prerogative of the sex. It only

shows that human nature is much the same everywhere, and that all

societies differ less in the essentials of life than is generally

supposed."

 

Having skirted the river-shore, a part of which was of the nature

of quicksand, and so needed a guide to the manner born, they began

to ascend the slope of the volcanic hill, which, as throughout the

North Island, had been selected for the tribal castrum. After a

lengthened climb, which would have tested the powers of less practised

pedestrians, they stood upon the wind-swept summit, artificially

levelled, and through the heavy sliding gates entered the ancient

fortress. Before doing so they had to cross trenches, to scale

embankments, and had time to note the various strategic preparations

which, though crumbling or partially dismantled, exhibited the skill

with which they had been constructed. The water-supply, as in most of

the "castles" of the period, was the weak point, the besieged having

to steal out in the night at the peril of their lives to procure the

indispensable element.

 

"What a glorious view!" exclaimed he, as, side by side, they looked on

the wide expanse of land and sea which lay beneath and around them--the

broad estuary, the broken and fantastic outlines of the mountain range

beyond the river-bank.

 

The surf was breaking on the bar between the heads of the Hokianga,

while southward lay the valley, studded with the whares of the kainga

and the garden-like plots of the kumera fields. Almost unchanged was

the scene since the rude warrior, standing on stages behind these

palisades, launched his spear at the foe, or, wounded in the assault,

looked his last upon mountain and valley, sea and shore, but died

shouting defiance.

 

"What a strange thing is this life of ours!" said Massinger, musingly.

"It is less than a year since I was living contentedly in an English

county, on an estate which my forefathers had held for centuries. I had

then no more idea of quitting England than I have of setting out for

the planet Mars."

 

"And do you not regret the leaving such a paradise as England is said

to be, when one is born to wealth and honour?"

 

"I cannot say that I do. So far from it, that I consider I have made a

distinct advance in knowledge and development. My life then was narrow

and monotonous, leading to nothing save contentment with a round of

provincial duties."

 

"But travel, high companionship, ambition, the Parliament of

England,--noble-sounding words! What boundless fields of enjoyment and

exertion! Were not these enough to fill your heart?"

 

"Possibly. But all suddenly my life lost its savour; hope died,

ambition vanished; existence revealed itself merely as a pilgrimage

through a desert waste, haunted by lost illusions, and strewed with

withered garlands. For a while I thought to end it, but a convalescent

stage succeeded. I arranged my affairs and sold my place, resolved to

seek a cure for my soul's unrest beyond the narrow bounds of Britain."

 

"Sold your ancestral home! How _could_ you do such a thing? And what

possible reason could you have had for such a mad step, as I have no

doubt your friends called it?"

 

"That was the exact word they used. But I had made my choice.

All things habitual and familiar had become distasteful--finally

insupportable. I chose this colony as the most distant and interesting

of England's possessions; and here I am, an exile and a wanderer in a

new world, but"--turning to Erena--"honoured with the friendship of the

best of guides and most charming of comrades."

 

She heard almost as one not hearing; then, suddenly fixing her eyes,

bright with sudden fire, upon his countenance, said--

 

"May I be told the reason of this breaking away from all you held dear?

You said I was a comrade, and, believe me, no man ever had a truer.

Was it a----"

 

"A woman? Of course it was a woman. When is man's life eternally

blessed or cursed except by a woman? When is he hindered, injured,

ruined, and undone by any event that has not a woman in it?"

 

"And she was beautiful, clever, high-born?"

 

"All that and more; I had never met with her equal. She was an

acknowledged queen of society. She had but one fault."

 

"She did not love you?" said the girl, hastily, while her tones

vibrated with suppressed excitement.

 

"Not sufficiently to link her fate with mine for the journey from which

there is no retreat. She admitted approval, liking, respect--words

by which women disguise indifference; but she believed that she had

a mission in life, a call from heaven to go forth to the poor and

afflicted, to elevate the race--a sacred task, for which marriage would

unfit her."

 

"You pakehas are strange people," she said musingly. "And so she would

not be happy because she desired to teach, to help the poor, the

_common people_! And if she failed?"

 

"She would have wasted her own life, and ruined that of another."

 

"Life is often like that, so the books say--even the Bible. 'Vanity of

vanities!' Either people do not get what they want, or find that it is

not what they hoped for. Yet I suppose some people are happy--generally

those who know the least. Listen to that girl singing. She is, if any

one ever was."

 

They had been descending the hill, when at an angle of the narrow path

they came upon a young native woman, sitting at the door of a cottage

which bore traces of European construction. A child stood at her knee,

while she was busied about her simple task of needlework. The midday

sun had warmed, not oppressed, the atmosphere, and there was an air of

sensuous, natural enjoyment about her air and appearance as she looked

over the river meadows where the tribe was employed. Her face lighted

up with a smile of recognition as she saw Erena and her companion.

 

"Good morning, Hira. Where is Henare? You are all alone here?"

 

"Oh, he is at some road-work," she answered cheerfully, "but he always

comes home at night. He gets good wages from the contractor."

 

"What a nice cottage you have!--weather-boarded, too. Who built it?"

 

"Oh, Henare and another half-caste chap sawed the boards and put it up.

He likes living here better than in the kainga, and so do I. We can go

down there when we want to."

 

"Good-bye, then. I have been showing this pakeha gentleman the

pah.--Now, those people are just sufficiently educated to be happy and

contented," said Erena. "He is a steady, hard-working fellow, and, as

roads are beginning to be made, he is able from his pay to build a

cottage and live comfortably."

 

"Education is a problem. If it leads people to think correctly on the

great questions of life, it is--it must be--an advantage; but if,

through anything in their condition, it produces envy and discontent,

it is an evil, with which the nations have to reckon in the future."

 

"I sometimes wish I had not been educated myself," she said with a

sigh. "I seem to have all manner of tastes and hopes most unlikely to

be realized. Whereas----"

 

And just at that moment the lilt of the girl on the hillside came down

to them, joyous with the magic tones of youthful love and hope. It

furnished an answer to her questioning of fate, immediately apparent to

both.

 

"Do not doubt for an instant!" exclaimed Massinger, touched to the

heart by the girl's saddened look, and realizing the justice of her

complaint. "_You_ were never born for such a life. Nature has gifted

you with the qualities which women have longed for in all ages. Your

day will come--a day of appreciation, fortune, happiness. Who can doubt

it that looks on you, that knows you as I do?"

 

In despite of her boding fears and the melancholy which so often

depressed her, she was not proof against this confident prediction.

Her youth's hey-day and nature's joyous anticipation protested alike

against a passing despondency.

 

"It may be as you say. Let me hope so. Do not the bright sun, the

blue sky, the dancing waves, all speak of happiness? And yet, and

yet----But here comes your schooner, rounding the point. Our time of

friendship is over. I wonder when we shall meet again?"

 

"When indeed?" thought her companion. But, determined in his heart that

this should not be his last interview with this fascinating creature,

so subtly compounded of the classic beauties of the wood-nymph and the

refinements of modern culture, he answered confidently