Page:Tales-of-Banks-Peninsula Jacobson 2ed 1893 cropped.pdf/263

one night, discovered the place was burning. He made for the outer door and got it open, and then called to Mr. W. Masefield, who was sleeping in another room. The door was fastened on the inside, and no doubt was jammed, and Mr. W. Masefield, after trying it, was obliged by the smoke to retreat to his bed, where he threw himself down, expecting to be suffocated. Mr. V. Masefield, however, never lost his presence of mind, but running to the outside window, he broke the panes of glass, and tore out part of the sash by main strength. The fresh air rushing in revived his brother, and he came to the window, and somehow was dragged through, badly burned, but safe. It was only just in time, for five minutes later the house fell in, one great mass of flame. There is a clump of ngaios and other native scrub at the back of the house, and a few gums planted amongst them have grown wonderfully well. Going to the beach, which is half a mile from the house, one skirts a beautiful piece of bush that the Messrs. Masefield have left for ornamental purposes. These gentlemen deserve the thanks of all lovers of nature for the care they have exercised in this respect. Every here and there groups of the finest trees have been left, which add to the beauty of the scene, afford shelter to the stock, and a thousand times repay the grazing value of the land they cover. Barbarous vandalism and a desperate greed for every blade of grass has spoiled the beauty of many a Peninsula home, and the efforts that are now being made to raise plantations of pinus insignis and other trees, show what a wise thing it would have been to have spared a few patches of that unrivalled native bush that, once destroyed, no art can replace. The creek is crossed by a bridge of a very long single span, the great kowhai stringers of which show their elasticity, as well as their strength, as one passes over. The road is that by which the wool