_PURCHASING LIVE-STOCK._
I will not weary the reader with an account of our journey from
Auckland to our new property. As soon as I heard that the house was
ready for occupation, we bade adieu to Parnell, and after a somewhat
tedious journey arrived at the Matakohe Wharf, where a large barge with
two men in it awaited us. Into it all our goods and chattels, together
with ourselves, some fowls, and a retriever pup, were stowed, and after
half an hour's pull we disembarked on the limestone beach in front of
our new dwelling.
The carpenter who had been doing up the house had secured for us
the services of a country girl, who, among other accomplishments,
understood the arts of milking and butter making.
My first care was to purchase a couple of quiet cows.
One I bought from a sanctimonious individual, who assured me the animal
was perfectly docile, stating as a proof that his little daughter was
accustomed to milk her. Having sold me the cow, he expressed himself
anxious as to my spiritual welfare, and preached me a short sermon in
atrocious English on the subject of his own righteousness.
Although the man was leaving the neighbourhood, I felt no hesitation
in taking his word about the amiability of the cow--he seemed so
oppressively pious. She was turned into my paddock, and in a few days
one of my little boys came running breathlessly to me to say that she
had a calf.
I had been advised, when this event took place, to immediately take
the calf away, and I accordingly proceeded to the paddock to do so,
never anticipating any difficulty in the matter. To my surprise and
alarm, however, when I got within about fifty yards of the animal,
she suddenly lowered her head, and came straight for me, her rapid
movements necessitating on my part a most ignominious and hasty
retreat. On reaching safely the other side of the fence, I considered
the matter over, and coming to the conclusion that my new "chumminess"
in the matter of cows and calves must be to blame, sent to request the
assistance of a settler living near. He was unfortunately out at the
time, but a lad who was lodging with him said he would come down.
On his arrival he inquired in supremely contemptuous tones, "What!
can't yer take a calf away?"
[Illustration: The Pious Man's Cow.]
I replied that the mother had protested in so very forcible a manner
against my interfering with her infant that I thought I must have
gone the wrong way to work, and asked him if _he_ could undertake the
business.
To this he briefly responded, "Rather!" and marched off with a
confident air to the scene of action, while I secured a vantage
place outside the fence. No sooner, however, did the pious man's
late cow catch sight of the would-be abductor, than she charged
like a streak of lightning, and I don't believe that that--alas!
no-longer-confident--youth ever before made such good use of his legs.
When he was in safety, and had recovered breath enough to speak, he
gasped out, "If that there cow belonged to me, I'd shoot her!" and
strode off without another word, leaving me in the depths of despair.
Later in the day, the labouring man I had first sent for--a
solemn-looking individual, with a long beard--came down, and when I
related what had occurred, said with a placid and reassuring smile that
he would soon settle matters satisfactorily. Procuring a tea-tree stake
about five feet long, he requested me to follow him into the paddock,
and on the way laid down a plan of attack.
"When I see's a propitchus oppertunity," said he, "I'll con-fūs-cate
the calf; and if the parent animȳle precipices herself on me, as in all
probableness she will, you must fetch her a right down preponderating
blow atween the horns with this here tea-tree stake!"
I did not like my allotted portion of this elegantly worded programme
at all, and suggested that I should do the abduction part, while he
"preponderated" the cow. This being agreed to, we cautiously entered
the arena, and seizing my opportunity--and the calf at the same time--I
retired at a speed that would have completely shamed a New Zealand
express train. I never attempted to look round, but I heard a blow and
a dull thud close behind, and knew something had happened.
When outside the post and rail fence with my burden I breathed once
more, and was delighted to see the settler standing triumphant, stake
in hand, and the cow struggling on the ground. He had "preponderated"
her in the most approved style, and the business was satisfactorily
accomplished.
I thanked him warmly; and foreseeing that a difficulty would probably
arise in the milking of the brute, arranged with him to perform that
office for a time. It was well I did so, for she proved a perfect
"terror."
To milk her it was not only necessary to put her in the bail--an
arrangement which secures the head of the cow in somewhat the same
manner as some of the old-fashioned instruments of punishment used to
secure the head of a man--but it was also necessary to rope both her
hind legs to prevent her from kicking. These operations had to be gone
through night and morning, and caused a great deal of trouble and waste
of time.
No more pious men's cows for me.
The vendor of the other animal did not pretend to possess any excessive
amount of spirituality, and the cow turned out a splendid animal.
I next directed my attention to horseflesh, as I found it impossible
to get about on foot to see the country. I tried several animals, but
could find none in the neighbourhood to suit my fancy.
One evening a man rode in who was anxious to sell the quadruped he
bestrode--a weedy-looking, weak-necked animal, standing about fourteen
hands, decidedly shaky about the knees, and with a swelling on the
off-stifle joint.
"There's a 'oss for you," he began, "choke full of spirits. Just the
animal to suit yer. A regler gentleman's 'oss he is, and no mistake."
I remarked that I feared he would hardly be up to my weight.
"Not up to your weight! Lor' bless you, he'd carry you like a
bird--'e's all 'art, 'e is. My word, you should see 'im junk--'e'd junk
a brick wall down, 'e would."
I had never before come across the word "junk" in connection with
equine accomplishments, but presumed it to be synonymous with "buck,"
and expressed a wish to see the performance.
"Ketch hold of these 'ere eggs then," said he, handing me a basket.
He next proceeded to cut a switch, armed with which he remounted the
"junker," and pulling hard at the reins with one hand, punished the
unfortunate animal with the switch, at the same time digging the spurs
well home.
After pursuing these tactics for a short time, he looked over his
shoulder at me and questioned, "Ain't 'e junking yet?"
"No," I replied, not liking to confess ignorance of the term; "he does
not seem to be 'junking' much."
Another and a heavier dose of whip and spur torture was then
administered, and at last the unhappy quadruped gave a feeble shake
with one hind leg.
"He's junking now a bit, I think," I cried, anxious to stop the
exhibition.
"Oh! that ain't nothink," replied the owner. "Lor' bless you, you
should see 'im junk sometimes; he'd junk a brick wall, 'e would; but 'e
ain't in spirits now."
The latter fact I was fully prepared to corroborate, and may add that
I did _not_ purchase the "junker."
I eventually succeeded in getting suited, and was able to look about
the country.
The tremendously steep grades on the so-called roads astonished me very
much, but the horses bred out here think nothing of them. In the winter
time these roads are veritable bogs in some places, and travelling is
then anything but pleasant. When they become slippery, the horses have
a fashion of putting their feet together, throwing themselves well back
on their haunches, and sliding down the steep inclines. They never
come to grief, and all the rider has to do is to lean well back in the
saddle.
The main road through the county is supposed to be constructed by the
local governing body, called the County Council, which is composed
of representatives from the several ridings or districts forming the
county, each riding electing a councillor every three years.
Too often the sole aim of a councillor is to get as much done as
possible for the road near his own house, and to secure as much
compensation as he can for himself and his friends, therefore almost
useless roads are frequently promoted, and the money frittered away
in their construction and in compensation to the owners of the land
through which they pass.
The main county road here is not yet formed in places, and though
large sums have been expended, there was very little in the way of
solid, substantial work to be seen until the last few months. Matakohe
belonged to the Hobson County Council, which has existed for over ten
years; it now forms part of a new county called the Otamatea.
County Councils have power to levy rates and taxes, and to borrow money
from the Government under certain conditions, and they take care to
exercise all their privileges in these respects.
When the chairman of a County Council is a large employer of labour
and a man of influence, his part of the county generally shows the
best graded and best metalled roads. Besides the County Councils, many
of the ridings--of which Matakohe is one--possess Road Boards, also
empowered to levy rates, and with the money carry out works on branch
roads.
It is very commonly believed that the country would progress far more
rapidly if County Councils were abolished and the different districts
represented solely by Road Boards, which would determine the works
considered most desirable, and draw up half yearly reports to be laid
before a Government engineer, who, after examining into the merits of
the schemes proposed, would finally decide on those most likely to be
beneficial to the county, and which could be undertaken with the funds
in hand.
Enough, however, for the present of County Councils. The Matakoheans
can certainly have no wish to uphold the system, as very little indeed
has been done for their district by the county to which it, until quite
lately, belonged. Its misfortune in this respect may have been due to
its _situation_; it certainly was not due to its size, for Matakohe
formed one of the largest ridings in the county.
It boasts of between forty and fifty private houses scattered over
a somewhat large area; a good-sized public hall where concerts, tea
and prayer meetings, dances and theatrical performances are held from
time to time; a chapel used on alternate Sundays by the Wesleyans and
Church of England people; a cemetery, a Government school-house, a
public library, &c. &c.; three general stores (or shops, as they would
be called in England); a saw-mill, a tremendously long wharf in a
tremendously inconvenient place, and a capital racecourse, here the
Matakohe Racing Club holds an annual meeting.
Horse-racing is one of the great national amusements of New Zealanders,
and there are very few settlements in the Northern Kaipara which do not
number owners of racehorses among their inhabitants.
In England racing is associated with betting, blacklegs, welshers,
suicides, and other disagreeable things: out here, as far as small
country meetings are concerned, it means genuine, honest, legitimate
sport, and should be encouraged, as calculated to improve the breed of
horses in the colony, and to do a great amount of good to the districts
in which the meetings are held.
A sort of betting-machine called the "Totalisator" has indeed been
legalised by the New Zealand Government, but may only be used at race
meetings where prizes of thirty pounds and upwards are given. It
therefore does not affect in any way small meetings like ours, and the
Matakohe Racing Club have no desire that it should.
For the benefit of my readers who are unacquainted with the
betting-machine, I will endeavour to describe the manner in which it
is worked. The intending speculator enters small office and buys his
ticket, or tickets, according to his rashness, and then proceeds to
examine a board on one of the walls of an inner chamber, where are
displayed certain variable numbers arranged in the following manner:--
[Illustration]
The numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, represent the starting horses in the
order shown on the Racing Club's card. They may therefore be taken to
stand instead of the horses' names.
In the illustration above seven horses are supposed to be going to run.
The numerals underneath in the squares indicate the number of tickets
invested on each horse, and the top square records the total tickets
sold.
When the investor has consulted his "correct card," and decided on
what horse to place his ticket, he gets it stamped with its number,
and the figure or figures on the board under the selected horse and
those representing the total tickets sold are each moved on one. A few
minutes before the race a bell is rung, and the totalisator closed,
and after the event is decided the total proceeds--less ten per
cent.--are divided among those who have placed their tickets on the
winning horse. Thus in the illustration, supposing No. 6 won, and the
tickets a pound each, the wily individual who placed his money there
would receive ninety pounds; if No. 3 won, each of the five investors
would receive a dividend of eighteen pounds; if No. 1, a dividend of
one pound eighteen shillings and three-pence, and so on. The ten per
cent. deducted from the receipts is divided between the proprietors of
the machine and the Jockey Club; and inasmuch as fourteen or fifteen
thousand pounds generally passes through it at one of the large Racing
Club Meetings, the totalisator will be seen to be a paying concern.
The advisability of taxing it was mooted in Parliament last year; and
as our sage administrators of the law have deemed it right to make the
betting-machine legal, surely they cannot be wrong in taxing it heavily
as a luxury.