Brighter Britain! Part 17

Now, it is the praiseworthy custom of settlers' wives in the bush, to ask their unmarried lady friends from the city to visit them as much as possible. There is a dearth of feminine society in the newer districts; and the most insignificant miss, on her travels from house to house up country, receives pretty nearly as much homage and attention as did the Queen of Sheba on her visit to King Solomon. If she be matrimonially inclined--and, to do them justice, our colonial ladies are not backward in that respect--she has an infinite variety of choice among suitors eligible and ineligible. But on that head more anon.

Every woman is a lady in the bush, and Miss Cityswell was, of course, no exception to the general rule. We were aware, however, that her father and mother were of the English peasant cla.s.s, though he had prospered and was now an Auckland magnate. She was a fairly educated young woman, pa.s.sably good-looking; but her head was evidently turned by the attentions of which she was the recipient. Certainly, if mannerisms, affectation, vanity, and dress have anything to do with it, her claim to be called a lady was a most emphatic one.

Auckland city people know little or nothing of Maoridom. In fact, the generations born and bred in Auckland seem to be as ignorant about the natives as people at home. They never come into contact with them. They see an occasional Maori in the streets, or perhaps witness a native canoe-race at the regatta. But as for knowing anything of Maori life and character, past or present, that they do not. And they are generally absolutely ignorant of the history of the colony. They are given to looking on the Maoris much as people at home regard gypsies--as quite an inferior order of beings, in fact.

Miss Cityswell was naturally imbued with these notions. She regarded the Maoris who were present at the spree with sublime contempt and gathered skirts. During the early part of the evening, she confined herself to saying that she thought we took too much notice of our native neighbours. But when it came to the dancing, and when she saw the Maori girls making ready to take part in it, then the storm burst.

"Pray, are you gentlemen actually going to dance with those creatures?"

We intimated, mildly, that such was our explicit intention.

The lady's indignation was almost too great for words. She regarded us with mingled horror and disgust, replying--

"Well, all I can say is, that I shall certainly decline to dance with any gentleman who demeans himself by taking one of those brown wretches for a partner."

Here was a terrible to-do. Expostulations, explanations, entreaties, all alike failed to move Miss Cityswell's determination. The matter began to a.s.sume a darker complexion as we thought it over. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, every gentleman present would consider it his privilege to lead out the fair stranger for at least one dance, an honour he would not concede on any account, and would fight and bleed for if necessary.

But now we began to perceive that we were between the horns of a dilemma.

An eager and excited group of us withdrew to consider the matter.

Something like _lese majeste_ must be committed either way, that was apparent. To give up the chance of a dance with Miss Cityswell was to forego a rare and exquisite moment of ecstasy; and yet, to qualify ourselves for it, we were required to put an insult upon, and to neglect, our beautiful Rakope and her sisters. Whatever was to be done?

Dandy Jack, O'Gaygun, the Fiend, and another, in spite of their exuberant gallantry, declared themselves firmly for the belle of the Kaipara, _versus_ her white and more sophisticated rival. Probably, these gentlemen were actuated by a sneaking expectation that Miss Cityswell would not be able to hold out against the advances of such magnificoes as themselves, all night. But the Saint, Yankee Bill, and Whangarei Jim headed a party who were all for the Auckland lady. Her slightest wish was to them an absolute law, for that evening, at least.

They would dance with no one else, look at no one else, speak to no one else, if this heaven-descended apparition so desired it.

Then there was a party of moderates, represented by Little'un, the Pirate, Wolf, Dark Charlie, and the Member. These were all for a compromise of some sort. And at last they were inspired with a plan that seemed the best that could be done under the circ.u.mstances, and that was finally, after much dispute, accepted as our line of action by all parties. It was this. Each one of us was to go in rotation and to lead out Miss Cityswell for a single dance; after that he would be free to devote himself to all and sundry. No one was to dance with any other until he had had his turn with the haughty Aucklander. We hoped that such homage to her would appease her pride; while we relied on the good sense of all the other ladies, to put our singular conduct down to a whimsical desire on our part to pay a fanciful attention to a fair visitor and stranger.

But there was one factor we had entirely forgotten to reckon. As we were proceeding in a body back to the hall, we met all the Maori girls coming out, and a high state of indignation they seemed to be in. Some officious person had carried Miss Cityswell's dictum to their ears, and up went all the brown noses in the air as a consequence. _They_ were not going to stop in the hall to be grossly and gratuitously insulted! No, thank you! If they were not good enough for Pakeha men to dance with, they had no further business there! It was time for them to be going home!

Here was another nice little mess. All the Maori girls, from Rakope downwards, were as wrathful as such brown darlings could be. They would go straight home at once, they said, and never, never again come to a Pakeha spree! And their masculine friends were siding with them, and already making for the boats, though, for the most part, indignantly silent, waiting to see what we would do.

Several of the Pakeha ladies present tried to pacify the outraged Maori feeling, but without avail. On the other hand, it appeared that Miss Cityswell was inwardly somewhat frightened at the turn things had taken, and at the excitement every one was in. She would not move from her silly standpoint, however; but when Dandy Jack blandly, and with many elaborate compliments, proceeded to lay our proposal for compromise before her, she eagerly grasped at it as an escape from the awkwardness of the situation.

So far that was settled, then; but how the Maori beauties were to be pacified it pa.s.sed our understanding to conceive. Old Colonial was at last discovered behind a flax-bush, deep in a discussion on beet-root sugar-making with a stranger, and wholly oblivious of the row. He was instantly dragged forward into the light, and every one turned to him as the one person who could save our honour and our partners.

When the case had been fully explained to him, Old Colonial's eyes twinkled with fun. "I see my way to square matters," he said, "but you must leave me to do it by myself."

He then went down to the beach, where the Tanoa ladies were sitting in a group in the moons.h.i.+ne, waiting for the tide to turn before they embarked to return home. He sat down amidst them, and after some desultory chat, and flirtation perhaps, he brought the talk round to Miss Cityswell and her proceedings.

"Yes, she's a niceish girl," he drawled meditatively, "rather foolish and ignorant, though, I think. You see, she is a visitor up here, this Auckland person; and we are bound to be hospitable and attentive, and to put up with her whims."

His auditors a.s.sented to this, but intimated that _they_ were not bound to put up with Miss Cityswell's arrogance, and did not intend to.

"Of course not," returned Old Colonial, with a wave of his pipe-hand, as he reclined at Rakope's feet; "of course not. But then, you see," and here he glanced cautiously round to make sure that no Pakehas were within hearing, "she's not worth thinking about, _not being rangatira_."

"Oh!" cried Rakope, with round open eyes; and "Oh!" cried Piha and Mehere, and all the chorus.

"No," continued he, lazily contemplating a smoke-ring in the moonlight; "her father and mother were only kukis, or something not far off it, and she, of course, is not rangatira, not a lady."

"Oh!" cried Rakope and the others briskly, and joyously jumping to their feet, "that alters the case. We thought she was a lady, and were offended at what she said; but as she is not, it does not matter--she knows no better, and what she says is nothing. _We_ are ladies, and don't mind what common persons say or do."

So, back to the hall came the whole body, romping and laughing round Old Colonial, the acute and wise diplomatist, who had made matters straight and pleasant once more. And we, standing in a body near the hall, heard the rippling laughter of the merry band, and saw their white muslin dresses and bright ribbons glancing among the trees. From within the lighted hall came the sound of fiddles and of stamping feet. We forgot all about Miss Cityswell; we left her to the care of Saint and Whangarei Jim; we forgot the terms of our compromise. We rushed into the bush to meet our partners, as they came up from the beach, with streaming hair and eager eyes. And presently twenty couples took the floor--we Pakeha men and the dusky daughters of the land; and Old Colonial and Rakope waltzed fast and furiously at the head.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 6: A battle-axe of polished green jade. One of the most valued of Maori possessions.]

[Footnote 7: Missionary and schoolmaster.]

CHAPTER XI.

OUR SETTLER FRIENDS.

I think I need hardly say that we are not aesthetic here in the bush. In point of fact, we have no sympathy whatever with aestheticism or high art culture. We are, to put it shortly, Goths, barbarians, ant.i.thetics, what you will. The country is not aesthetic either; it is too young yet to use or abuse intellectual stimulants. There exists among us a profound contempt for all the fripperies and follies of fas.h.i.+on and civilization.

We hold these things to be wrong--to be a sort of crime against manhood.

In a measure we are Puritan; not altogether in a religious sense, but in a moral and social one, certainly. We regard our h.o.r.n.y hands with pride, and talk about "honest labour" with something more than a virtuous glow.

We are apt to be rather down on city foplings and soft-handed respectabilities. All such people we despise with positively brutal heartiness. When we read of what is doing in London and Paris we swell with indignation and contempt. We look upon the civilization we have come out of as no fine thing. Life is a serious matter-of-fact business to us, and we hold in stern derision the amenities of more sophisticated communities.

I think that we must look upon things at home much in the same light as the Nors.e.m.e.n of old did upon the frivolities of Rome or Byzantium. The spirit of O'Gaygun's philosophy pervades the colonial mind a good deal, and, possibly, we may be p.r.o.ne to cultivate it as a means of stifling any regrets we may have after the old life. We are very natural men, you see, very simple and childlike, unused to the artificialities of larger and organized society. Our characters have been reformed back to primary essentials; and the raree-show of civilization dazzles and frightens our primitive nervous systems. We may have our little failings, but we ask no pity for them from people whom we so utterly scorn, as we do the denizens of the elder world. Art! Culture! aestheticism! Bah! Pouf! Away with all such degrading, debasing, dehumanizing trumpery! We are men of a harder, sterner, simpler mould than the emasculate degeneracies of modern England! We are the pioneers and founders of a new Britain, of a stronger and purer life!

When describing our farm I gave some hint as to the causes which have kept us from building a better house hitherto. Some day we shall have one, of course; or, possibly, we shall have more than one, for some of our chums have been showing a tendency towards matrimony of late; and if any of us marry they must have houses of their own, I suppose. We should need a barrack else, you understand, for families _do_ run large out here.

Some of our neighbours live in very comfortable houses; and by visiting them we are kept from becoming reformed into the uttermost savagery altogether. Other people had more capital than we, or spent what they possessed in a different manner. There are those who have laid themselves out to render their homes more in accordance with the taste that prevails among--I had nearly written _decent_ people, but will say worldly instead. They have got nicer domiciles than our shanty; but, then, it takes a woman to look after things. There must be a mistress in a house that is to be a house, and not a--well, shanty, let us say. Even Old Colonial is sensible of that.

A frame-house here is built upon exactly the same plan as ours, so far as regard the piles, framework, outside wall and roof; but the plan of it varies much. Every man is his own architect, or at least that business lies between him and the carpenter who builds for him. One sees some very singular examples sometimes. Rows of isolated rooms connected by a verandah; houses all gable-ends and wings; all sorts in fact.

A good house will have the outside walls boarded up and down, with battens covering the c.h.i.n.ks, instead of weather-boarding like our shanty. The inside walls and ceilings will be lined with grooved and jointed planking, so as to make the house what is styled bug-proof.

There is a broad verandah round the whole or part of the house. There are brick chimneys inside the house, though, as they are usually an item of considerable expense, this is not invariable, and chimney out-puts like ours will be seen not infrequently. There are various rooms, and possibly an upper storey, which may or may not have a balcony above the verandah. It is a common practice to have French windows, opening upon the verandah, instead of doors.

Such houses can be made very elegant as well as comfortable. They are painted and decorated with carvings outside, and the inside walls may be painted, papered, or varnished. Furniture and upholstery of all kinds is, of course, procurable in Auckland; so that one can have all the comfort of an English home, if one is able to pay for it.

Necessarily, the cost of house-building will vary considerably, according to the style and size of residence. A cottage with two to four rooms will cost 100, or less. The average price paid for houses in our district--large roomy houses for prosperous family-men, contracted for with a carpenter, to build, paint, and thoroughly finish off--runs from 250 to 500, or something like it. Kauri timber is used almost exclusively in the North, so that we may say we live under the shadow of the Kauri pine.

We keep up the usages of society so far as to pay visits occasionally, especially to houses where there are ladies. You have got to live in a country where petticoats are few and far between, where there is not one woman to twenty or thirty men, as is the case here, in order to thoroughly appreciate the delights of feminine society. People at home don't know how to treat a lady; they are too much used to them. Why, there are actually more women than men in England!

We treasure our ladies, because they are so rare among us in the bush.

Good creatures they are, these settler's wives. How kind and benevolent they are to us, to be sure! And how they do delight to "boss" us about!

But we like it, we enjoy it, we revel in it. We would lay ourselves down for them to trample on us, and be truly grateful for the attention.

That is our loyal feeling towards the married ladies resident in the district. Conceive, if you can, how much more extravagant is our gallantry when certain other persons are in question--young ladies whom the irreverent covertly term "husband-hunters!"

Those good lady dwellers in the bush--how it does delight them to promote the matrimonial felicity of others! How they do enjoy matchmaking!

Every settler's wife, so soon as she has got over the exclusiveness of honeymoon happiness, does her best to induce her girl friends from the city to come and visit her. She is so lonely, she says--poor thing! No one but her husband, and his neighbours and workmen; her devoted slaves every one of them, but still, all rough men, you know. She pines for a companion of her own s.e.x. Oh yes; very much so! It would be a charity, indeed, if dear Ada or f.a.n.n.y would come and stay with her a bit.

Dear Ada or f.a.n.n.y is only too glad of the opportunity. She did want to see what the bush was like, for she has never been out of Auckland yet, except a trip to the hot lakes, or so. In fact, her school-days are scarcely over yet. And then she is so sorry for her friend's loneliness.