Amiria Plays Her Highest Card in the Game of Love.
Scarlett was bound for the gold-fields. He bestrode a tall chestnut
mare, with white "socks." In the cool of the morning, with the dew
sparkling on the hedges and the birds twittering in the orchards, he
rode out of Timber Town.
He crossed the ford where he had rescued Rachel from the clutches of the
digger, and had turned into the gorge which led through the foot-hills
when he came suddenly upon Amiria, waiting for him, with her horse
standing across the road.
She was dressed in a perfectly-fitting habit of dark blue cloth, a hard
felt hat, and in her hand she carried a dainty whip; but her feet were
bare, and one pretty toe protruded from the stirrup.
"I'm hanged!" exclaimed Jack. "Who ever expected to see you here, at
this time of the morning?"
The Maori girl laughed. "I knew you were going to-day--Rose Summerhayes
told me. So I said to myself, 'I'll go to the diggings too; I'll see how
they get this gold.' Perhaps I may find some myself. Is it far?"
"About fifty miles. But I can't take you to the field."
"Why not? I shan't steal anything."
Scarlett could not forbear a smile. "I don't mean that," he said. "I was
thinking what the fellows would say."
Amiria's merry laugh rang through the narrow valley. "Oh, you _Pakeha_
people, how funny you are--always troubled by what others may think
about you, always bothering about the day after to-morrow. Yet I think
it's all put on: you do just the same things as the Maori. I give it up.
I can't guess it. Come on; see if your horse can trot mine."
She flicked her big bay that she was riding, and started off at a
swinging pace. And so, Scarlett riding on the soft turf on one side of
the road and Amiria on the other, they raced till they came to the next
ford.
"I beat!" cried the Maori girl, her brown cheeks glowing with
excitement.
The horses were given a mouthful of water, and then they splashed
through the shallows; their iron shoes clanking on the boulders as dry
land was reached.
"You are very rich, aren't you?" Amiria asked, as they walked their
horses side by side.
"What do you mean by rich?"
"Oh, you have lots of gold, money, everything you want."
"Not by any means."
"You must be very greedy, then. They tell me you have thousands of
pounds in the bank, a big house which you are building, and a fine
girl."
"A girl?"
"Yes, Rahera Varnhagen. Isn't she a fine girl?"
"Rachel Varnhagen!"
"Yes. I was in the old man's store yesterday, buying things for the
_pa_, and he told me he had given his girl to you."
Jack opened his eyes in astonishment. He wondered who was the liar, the
Jew or the Maori girl, but all he said was, "Well, I'm hanged!"
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 dickens! 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
shipwrecked, 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 grassy 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 attitude 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 passionate 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 fashion; 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 grass, 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 grass. 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."
Flushing with anger, Amiria drew herself up.
"You'd better go," said Scarlett. "I'll attend to these men."
Without another word the Maori girl turned her horse's head for home,
walked him quietly past Dolphin and his gang, without taking the least
notice of any of them, and then cantered away.
As she did so the four men burst into hoarse laughter and obscene
remarks.
Scarlett walked menacingly towards Garstang, who had been the chief
offender.
"You filthy brute," he said, "what do you mean?"
"Filthy, eh?" retorted Garstang. "D'you 'ear that, Dolly? An' I suppose
my mates is filthy too, eh, mister?"
"Jab 'im in the mouth, Garstang." This advice from Sweet William.
But Dolphin settled the matter. With a revolver in his hand he stepped
towards the menacing Scarlett.
"Now, hook it," he said. "If you can't take a bit of chaff without
turning nasty, don't think you can get up to any of your funny business
here. I give you three minutes in which to clear."
As Scarlett, following the general practice of the diggers, went
unarmed, he could only reply by acting upon dictation; but before he
turned to go, he looked well at the men before him. Then he mounted his
horse, and rode away.
He quickly forded the stream, and, without turning his head to look
again at the strange gang, he plunged into the dense forest which
stretched across mountain and valley. As he climbed the slopes of the
range over which the track led him, the sun shone brightly and not a
cloud was in the sky. The air was so still that even at the summit of
the range, 2000 feet and more above the sea, not the slightest breeze
stirred. The atmosphere was oppressive, and, three parts of the way down
the further slope, where a clear rivulet crossed the path, Jack was fain
to rest beneath the shade of a giant tree-fern, and eat and drink. There
was not a creature to harm him; no venomous reptile, no ravenous beast
dwelt in those vast sub-tropical forests; no poisonous miasma reeked
from the moist valleys below; in the evergreen trees countless pigeons
cooed, _kaka_ parrots and green paroquets screamed, and black
parson-birds sang. It was a picture of Nature in one of her most
peaceful and happy moods. Forgetful of the distractions which he had
left behind him, Jack's mind had turned to the contemplation of the
bright prospects which lay before him, when his reverie was broken by
the sound of voices and the noise of horses' hoofs; and round a bend of
the track, slowly ascending the uncertain gradient, appeared the
gold-escort.
Leading the cavalcade, rode a mounted constable dressed in a blue tunic,
with silver buttons, dun-coloured, corded riding-breeches, top-boots,
and a blue shako. His carbine was slung negligently, and he whistled as
he rode.
Behind him came Isaac Zahn, sitting loosely on his horse; a revolver
strapped in its case at his belt. He was followed by an unarmed mounted
man who led the pack-horse which carried the gold; and an armed digger,
who rode a white horse, brought up the rear.
The leading horse whinnied, and Jack's mare answered.
"Good morning," said the constable, reining up. "A beautiful day, sorr.
Have ye such a thing as a match wid you?"
Jack, who was smoking, handed a box of matches to the man, who lighted
his pipe. The whole cavalcade had come to a halt, and Zahn, who
pretended not to recognise Jack, sat on his horse, and scowled.
Scarlett's eyes involuntarily fixed themselves on the heavily-laden
pack-horse.
"I should advise you to keep your weather eye lifted, constable," he
said.
"Bedad, an' we'll attend to that," replied the Irishman, with a broad
smile. "The escort's as good as in Timber Town already. Thank you,
sorr." He handed back the matches. "Good morning t'you." And lightly
touching his horse with the spur, he passed on.
Disregarding Scarlett's nod of recognition, Zahn followed the leader,
without so much as a glance at the man whom he hated as his supposed
supplanter in the affections of the beautiful Jewess.
The pack-horse and its leader, a stoutly-built man, went heavily by, and
the rear-guard let his horse drink at the stream, but he was a man
filled with the importance of his office, and to Jack's greeting he
replied merely with a mechanical nod, as though he would say, "Don't
speak to me: I'm exceedingly intent upon conveying this gold to Timber
Town."
"Strange crowd," mused Jack, as the last hoof disappeared round the
upper bend of the track; "riding loose in the saddle, their arms slung
behind them. If I'd had a gun, I could have shot the first man before he
saw me. Robbing escorts can't be such a difficult matter as is supposed.
If Zahn had been civil I'd have used the opportunity to warn him of the
queer gang I met at the ford. They may be simple diggers--they look like
it--but the man who whips out a pistol on the least provocation is to be
guarded against when you're in charge of five or six thousand ounces of
gold."
With these thoughts Jack mounted his horse, and rode away. The winding
track at length led him into a deep valley, down which flowed a broad
river whose glistening waters rippled laughingly over a shallow bed of
grey boulders. Along its banks grew mighty pines, the _rimu_, the
_totara_, and the broad-spreading black-birch, their trunks hidden in
dense undergrowth and a tangle of creepers; while here and there beside
the sparkling waters grew thick clumps of bright green tree-ferns.
But the track was now flat and straight, and putting his horse into
a trot Scarlett covered the ground rapidly. After some ten miles of
riding, he came to a ford where the track crossed the river, and entered
rougher country. As he drew rein at the verge of the water to let his
horse drink, he noticed that the heavens had suddenly become dark.
Looking at the strip of sky revealed by the treeless stretch above the
waters, he saw a phenomenon in the upper air. Across the tranquil blue
expanse advanced a mighty thunder-cloud; its unbroken face approaching
at immense speed, though not a leaf of the forest stirred, nor the frond
of a fern moved. It was like the oncoming of a mighty army, sweeping
across the still country, and leaving devastation in its track. Then
the low rumble of the thunder, like the sound of cannon in the distant
hills, heralded the commencement of the storm. A flash broke from the
inky black cloud, and simultaneously a deafening thunder-clap burst upon
the solitary traveller. Then followed an ominous silence, broken by
the rushing of the wind among the tree-tops, and the high heads of the
forest giants bent before the storm. The rain came down in a deluge,
and shut from sight both hill and valley; so that instead of wandering
through a leafy paradise, where birds sang and the sunshine glittered
on a million leaves, Scarlett groped his way as in a maze, dark and
impenetrable; his horse dejected, himself drenched and cold.