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THE TOLL OF THE BUSH
CH.

Geoffrey nodded and gathered up the reins. ‘Well, I’ll look for you on Thursday then,’ he said; ‘and mind, no humbug. I want the thing done before you start working the bullocks to death on your own account.’

Pine laughed boisterously. ‘How many acres you tink?’ he asked.

‘About three,’ said Robert; ‘it won’t take you long.’

‘All ri’; p’r’aps I come Wensday.’ He pulled a pipe from his belt, thrust a finger into the interior, and then began to search his pockets, uttering little clicks of astonishment. Geoffrey threw him the remains of a plug of tobacco, which he caught dexterously and proceeded to cut up.

‘New parson here little before time,’ he said. ‘Kapai dat chap mo te korero.[1] Ah, te pest!’[2]

‘Good talker, is he?’ asked Geoffrey, pausing on the point of wheeling his horse.

‘All the same te saw-mill,’ said Pine; ‘very big soun’.’ He laid his hand suddenly on the girl’s head. ‘Aha, my ch-eild! Poh! poh!’

The girl ducked under his arm, and dived into the interior of the whare.

‘He’s like that, is he?’ said Geoffrey. Then he smiled and added, ‘Yes, I’ve heard of him.’

‘Te big rangatira[3] that,’ said Pine admiringly, taking a slow and stately step from one doorpost to the other. ‘Poh! poh! I tink very soon now all the people go to church a good deal.’

‘Shouldn’t wonder,’ said Geoffrey.

Pine filled his pipe and lit it. ‘You tink dat

  1. ↑ Good man for the talk.
  2. ↑ ‘Te pest,’ the best.
  3. ↑ ‘Rangatira,’ a chief.
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