The Tale of Timber Town Part 53

Amiria laughed. "You see, these things can't be kept dark."

"But it's all a yarn. I'm not engaged to anybody. Can't a man talk to a girl, without all Timber Town saying he is going to marry her?"

"I don't know. Don't you like her?"

"I think she's very pretty, but that doesn't necessarily mean I want to marry her."

"Then you _don't_ like her?"

"I like her only as a friend."

"Shall I tell her that?"

Jack thought for a moment. He had suddenly become rather suspicious of women-folk.

"It might hurt her feelings," he said.

"If you don't speak the truth, she will think you mean to marry her."

"Then, tell her I don't mean to do anything of the sort."

Amiria laughed softly to herself. "That leaves two," she said.

"Leaves two? What do you mean?"

"There are three girls in love with you. Rahera was one--she is out of it. That leaves two."

"This is the very d.i.c.kens! Who are the other two, pray?"

"Rose Summerhayes is one."

Jack laughed. "She is too discreet, too English, to give her love, except where she is certain it will be returned."

"You can't tell: you don't know." Amiria had reined in her horse beside Jack's. "She is always talking about you. She talks about you in her sleep--I know: I have heard her."

"No, no; you make a mistake. She's a great friend of mine, but that is all. Who's the other daring girl?"

"You know," replied Amiria, with a pout.

"How am I to presume to think of such a thing?"

"You know quite well."

"Upon my honour, I don't."

"Does a girl ride with you, if she doesn't like you?"

"Depends upon the girl."

"Would I trouble to meet you, if I didn't?"

"Then it's you? Upon my word! This is overwhelming."

"But _I_ have a right to tell you--I saved your life. I know you as other girls don't."

"Oh, I say, this is a bit rough on a fellow. I couldn't help getting s.h.i.+pwrecked, you know."

"But I saved you. I have the right to you first. If you don't like me, then you can marry some other girl."

"I don't think you understand, Amiria. Of course I'm awfully indebted to you. As you say, I owe you my life. But if I marry you, I can't marry anybody else afterwards."

The Maori girl had jumped from her horse, and Scarlett was standing beside her. The horses grazed on the gra.s.sy bank of the stream.

"I know all the ways of your people," said Amiria: "I was sent to school to learn them. Some I think good; some I think bad. Your marriage is like the yoke you put on bullocks. It locks you tight together. Before you know really whether you like each other you have this yoke put on you: you are tied up for ever. The Maori way is better. We have our marriage too--it is like the bridle on my horse, light, easy, but good.

We only put it on when we know that we like each other. That's the way I wish to be married, and afterwards I would get your priest to give us his marriage, so that I might be _tika_ in the eyes of the _Pakeha_ people."

As she spoke, her eyes flashed and her whole att.i.tude was masterful, if not defiant; her cheek coloured, her mouth quivered with excitement, her gestures, as well as her speech, were full of animation. Evidently, she was giving expression to the warmest feelings of her pa.s.sionate nature.

Scarlett held a small _manuka_ stick, plucked from a flowering bush by the wayside. With this he struck his leather legging repeatedly, as he walked to and fro in agitation. Pausing by the river's brim, he gazed into the rippling water.

"This is something like marriage by capture," he said, "but the tables are turned on the man. The thing may be all right for you, but I should lose caste. With all your tuition, Amiria, you don't understand _Pakeha_ ways. I could marry you, English fas.h.i.+on; but I haven't the least intention of doing so."

The Maori girl had followed him, and as he gave his decision her arm was linked through his.

The tethered horses were cropping the gra.s.s, regardless of their riders.

Scarlett, wrestling with the problem that confronted him, was still gazing at the water.

But a sob recalled him to his duty. His companion's whole frame was quivering with emotion, and, as he turned, his eyes were met by hers steadfastly regarding him through their tears.

"You had better go home," he said. "The best place for you is the _pa_.

The best way for you to show your regard for me is to turn back."

She had shot her one bolt, and it had missed its mark. She turned her head aside, and hid her face in her hands. Slowly and disconsolately, she walked towards her horse, and unloosing him from the bush to which he was tied, she climbed into the saddle.

Her whip had dropped on the gra.s.s. Picking it up, Scarlett took it to her. She looked the picture of misery, and his heart began to melt. Her right hand hung limply at her side, and as he was putting the whip into it, he pressed her fingers gently. She did not draw her hand away, but left it in his clasp: gradually her tears dried, and a smile came into her face.

"Hullo!" said a strange voice behind them. "Spoonin'? Don't mind me, mate: I've bin there myself."

They turned their heads, to see four grinning men behind them on the track.

"Hold on, Carny; step behind the bushes, an' give the couple a chanst.

Boys will be boys. Can't you see the young feller was about to enjoy a kiss?"

"Take her orf the horse, mate," said another of the men. "Go for a walk with her--we'll mind the horses. We won't take no notice."

Flus.h.i.+ng with anger, Amiria drew herself up.

"You'd better go," said Scarlett. "I'll attend to these men."