Mud and Gold Page 52

  ‘Charlie was a bit worried about Te Kooti,’ Amy mused. She remembered the time well. Te Kooti had arrived in the town with a band of followers a little over two years before, causing consternation among the settlers. He had left the area peacefully after talking to the troops that had been hastily despatched from Gisborne, but the incident had been a talking point around Ruatane for months afterwards. ‘I wonder…’ She looked at David, who was still stroking the puppy. He raised his gaze to her, the barest hint of tears making his eyes even brighter.

  ‘Please, Mama? He could play with me. Please?’

  It was too hard to resist. ‘I tell you what, Davie, I’ll see what Papa thinks about us getting a dog.’ She had to extricate herself from David’s rapturous embrace, complete with puppy tucked into the crook of one arm, before she could speak again. ‘Now, don’t get too excited, he might say no, but I’ll ask him.’

  ‘It costs nothing to feed them,’ Matt said. ‘Just chuck them the bits of offal you don’t want.’

  ‘I’ll see what Charlie says,’ was all Amy would commit herself to.

  She rummaged in her drawstring bag until she found a leftover skein of wool she had meant to give Lizzie. She snapped off a short length and tied it around the pup’s neck.

  ‘Just so you can tell him apart from the others if you need to,’ she said to Matt. ‘But if Charlie does say he’d like a dog, there’s no need to tell him I put that wool on.’

  ‘Trying to pull the wool over his eyes, eh?’ Matt said, and she laughed with him. ‘When do I send the pup over, then?’ he teased. ‘He’s ready to leave Peg now.’

  ‘We’ll have to see,’ Amy said, careful not to promise anything to David. But she was becoming more and more determined that he would get his pet.

  ‘Now, Davie, don’t say anything about the puppy, not even to Mal,’ she warned as they drew near home. ‘If Papa says we can have one it’ll be our secret that you’ve already picked him.’

  David agreed to secrecy readily enough, but she could see that he could hardly contain his excitement. She was relieved that Charlie paid as little attention as usual to David that day.

  Amy waited until the children were safely in bed and Charlie was settled in the parlour before she remarked in a carefully casual tone, ‘I heard some people are getting dogs in case there’s Maori trouble again.’

  ‘Trouble?’ Charlie said, taking more notice of her remark than he usually did. ‘What sort of trouble?’

  ‘You know, like when Te Kooti came through. Some men are a bit worried about leaving their farms when they have to go out, in case someone interferes with their stock. Men who only have women and children around. They think a dog barking might scare the Maoris off.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Charlie pondered the problem. ‘There might be sense in that.’ He frowned. ‘A dog might worry stock.’

  ‘You’d want the sort of dog that was used to animals,’ Amy suggested. ‘One born on a farm would be best.’

  ‘It’d need feeding,’ Charlie said, and Amy knew she was almost there. ‘There’s already enough mouths around here.’

  ‘I’ve heard they don’t take much feeding,’ she said as if it were of only slight interest to her. ‘They just eat the rubbishy bits of meat that you don’t like anyway. All those bits you have to bury when you kill a sheep.’

  Charlie creased his brow in thought. ‘I might ask around about a dog.’

  ‘I think Aitkens might have some they don’t want,’ Amy said. ‘Someone said their bitch had a litter, and they were trying to give the pups away.’

  ‘Give?’ Charlie echoed. ‘They’re not wanting anything for them?’

  ‘I don’t think so. They’ve got more pups than they know what to do with.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He went back to reading his newspaper, but before he rose to put out the lamp that evening he said, ‘I might pop over to Aitkens tomorrow, see about a dog.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ Amy said, hiding her elation.

  In the privacy of her own room she hugged herself in anticipation of the joy she would see on David’s face when Charlie came home with the puppy. She lay in bed and savoured the knowledge that for the first time she had managed to manipulate Charlie into doing what she wanted while thinking it was his own idea. It was a pleasant reflection.

  *

  The beginning of a bumper crop of babies for the Leith families that year was marked by the arrival of Jane’s in June. Yet another baby in the valley appeared a small enough event to those outside it, but to Harry Leith the birth of his son seemed the most momentous event of his life.

  ‘You know what Robert did the other day?’ Harry asked Frank one Sunday after church when the baby was a little over a week old. ‘He looked at me! Looked me right in the face. You could see he knew who I was.’

  ‘Boy, that’s pretty good, Harry,’ Frank said obligingly. He saw John grinning at him over Harry’s shoulder.

  ‘He’s bright, that son of mine,’ Harry went on. ‘You know, I just about expected him to open his mouth and say something, he was looking at me that knowing.’

  ‘I bet he wishes he could talk, Harry,’ John put in. ‘He’ll probably start talking pretty young.’

  ‘Sure to,’ Harry agreed.

  ‘Yep, one day he’ll look you right in the eye and say, “Shut up, Pa.” Then the rest of us will know he’s bright, all right.’

  Frank tried to smother a chuckle and failed badly. Harry glared at them both, then joined in the laughter even though it was at his own expense.

  Frank was pleased for Harry, but he had other things on his mind. Calving would start in a month or so, and right in the middle of it Lizzie was due to have the new baby. She assured him it got easier with each birth, and this one being her fourth would be no trouble at all, but he knew that when the time came he would worry as he always did. Lizzie was too precious ever to be taken for granted.

  *

  When June turned into July and the heavy rain started, at first the farmers were relieved that the run of dry years that had made raising crops difficult in recent times was over. But as July wore on and the rains grew heavier, it became obvious that this was far more than normal winter weather.

  For years afterwards they would talk about the Bay of Plenty floods of 1892, but in those middle weeks of July everyone was too busy coping with the deluge to give any thought to their historical significance. It was much later that the people of Ruatane had time to exclaim over the almost forty inches of rain had fallen in twelve days. As the flood waters rose, the farmers in the Waituhi Valley moved their stock to higher ground and prayed that the creek would stop rising before it reached their houses.

  *

  Frank shrugged off his coat and hung it in the porch, water streaming from it onto the wooden floor and down the back steps. A yell from Lizzie met him as he opened the door, but it was not directed at him; the load of mud his boots carried after trudging around the sodden paddocks was far too heavy for him to forget to pull them off as soon as he reached the shelter of the porch.

  ‘You go out that door and I’ll give you a good hiding, Joey,’ she warned. ‘Then your pa’ll give you a better one.’

  ‘I want to go outside,’ Joey protested, torn between the desire for freedom and the sure knowledge that his mother’s threat should be heeded.

  ‘No, you don’t, Joe,’ Frank told him. ‘I wouldn’t be going out myself if I didn’t have to. Now, you be a good chap and don’t give your ma a hard time. She’s looking a bit weary on it.’ He sat down at the table and poured himself a cup of tea from the pot Lizzie had ready, two-year-old Beth clambering onto him as soon as he had made a lap. ‘You all right?’ he asked Lizzie.

  ‘I would be if that son of yours wasn’t driving me up the wall wanting to go outside all the time,’ Lizzie grumbled. She shifted in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position for her bulky body. ‘No, I’m all right. I’m as sick of being stuck inside as the kids are, and I think I’ve forgotten what the s
un looks like, but there’s nothing wrong with me.’

  ‘I’ve been helping Ma,’ Maudie said self-importantly. ‘I made some biscuits.’ She basked in the glow of her father’s approving smile.

  ‘So you did, love,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’m glad of the help, too, it’s a good thing she can’t get to school just now.’ Frank could see that Lizzie was trying to appear her usual unflappable self, but there was a tightness about her mouth that reflected the strain they were both feeling. ‘How are the animals, Frank?’

  ‘Looking miserable, but they’re right enough. They should be all right in those top paddocks—the water will never get that high.’

  ‘It must stop raining soon, mustn’t it?’

  ‘It’d better,’ he said. Seeing the fear in Lizzie’s eyes he added in a lighter tone, ‘It’s sure to. Probably another day or so, that’s all. I’ve put the Jerseys in the cart shed.’

  ‘Spoiled things!’ Lizzie exclaimed. ‘What about the poor old Shorthorns?’

  ‘They’re all tough as old boots, and I didn’t get a mortgage on the place to buy them. Anyway, I might put a few of them in there, too, if they start calving before the rain stops. I sledged a fair bit of hay over to the shed, that’ll keep them going.’ He did not remind her that all the hay stacks in the creek paddocks had been lost; nor did he tell her of the cow he had seen floating down the swollen creek that day. His own stock were all safe and sound, and that was all he could spare concern for at the moment. Except, of course, for the concern that was in his thoughts day and night: the heavily-pregnant Lizzie.

  ‘That shed’s going to get pretty full if you’ve got to keep all the calves in there.’

  ‘No, it won’t. The flood’s sure to die down before calving gets going.’

  She only half believed him, he could tell, though they were both careful to sound confident in front of the children. Later that evening, when Frank had helped an awkward Lizzie into her nightdress, he looked up from buttoning the bodice and saw in her face the strain she had been hiding all day. The thought of the baby loomed between them, as impossible to ignore as the bulge it made in Lizzie’s nightdress.

  ‘I let Maudie use just about the last of the sugar in those biscuits today,’ said Lizzie. ‘It’ll be all bottled fruit for pudding from now on until you can get to town again.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ Frank said, trying to sound reassuring. ‘I like your fruit. Anyway, the flood will be over before we run out properly.’

  ‘Will it?’ She turned from him and clambered into bed. Frank put out the lamp and climbed in beside her, angling his body to fit snugly around the curve her back made. He felt her tenseness as he pressed against her.

  ‘Don’t worry, Lizzie,’ he murmured. ‘It’ll be all right.’

  ‘Will it?’ she repeated.

  Frank held her in silence for some time, wishing that Lizzie did not have to be so very pregnant just when they were completely cut off from their neighbours, let alone the town and its nurses.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie,’ he whispered.

  ‘What for? You didn’t make it flood.’

  ‘No, but I got you in this state, didn’t I?’ Lizzie did not answer; nor did she respond when he stroked her arm.

  ‘I shouldn’t have watched that bull so much last summer, eh?’ he said, more to himself than to her. He felt Lizzie give a start at his words, then begin making little jerking movements. He closed his arms around her, trying to soothe her sobs, then realised with a jolt that they were not sobs at all. ‘What are you laughing about?’ he asked, somewhat indignant at her response to his attempts at comforting.

  ‘You, of course, you great fool! What a dopey thing to say.’ He felt Lizzie relax against him. ‘Honestly, Frank, you can be a real idiot sometimes. Anyone would think you’d planned it so I’d be the size of a house right in the middle of all this.’ He laughed with her, content to know that Lizzie had for the moment forgotten to be afraid.

  Lizzie wriggled herself closer. ‘I don’t know why I have to have babies at such ridiculous times. Maudie comes right in the middle of a mountain blowing up, and now this one’s going to arrive when we’re stuck in a flood.’

  ‘It’s not going to come that quickly, is it?’

  He felt Lizzie shake her head, her hair tickling his face in the darkness. ‘It shouldn’t be for a few weeks. Maudie was early, though.’

  ‘We’ll be right, then. It’ll all be over by the time the baby starts.’ His hand crept down to caress the warm bulge of her belly. ‘And even if it isn’t, I’ll look after you. We know more about the whole business now.’

  ‘Oh, no you won’t,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m not one of your precious cows, Frank Kelly. You needn’t think you’re sticking those great hands of yours up inside me.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ he murmured, chuckling at the fierceness of her tone. ‘You might be glad of a bit of help.’

  ‘Not from you, thanks very much. I’ve no intention of having this baby until the flood’s over and you can fetch a nurse out, or at least another woman.’ She said it with utter certainty, and Frank felt himself sharing her confidence. When Lizzie was like this it was impossible to imagine even the forces of nature daring to disobey her.

  ‘You’re right, Lizzie,’ he said with mock solemnity. ‘The baby won’t be born till you’re good and ready.’

  Which turned out to be quite true. Late in July the torrential rain began to subside into weather that was merely stormy and unpleasant, and the creeks and rivers slowly returned to their usual confines. The people of the valley emerged from their isolation to compare notes with one another on their losses, and to begin the task of rebuilding fences washed away by the flood.

  They had been luckier than many, they discovered when they were no longer cut off from the rest of the world. Sheep were being found washed up all along the coast, but losses within the valley had been slight. Jack had lost one cow, and Arthur and Jack had both lost a few of the sheep that served no other purpose than to provide meat for the family table. Much to the delight of all the older children, water had gone through the school, and cleaning it up so that lessons could resume was well down on the list of priorities.

  The only dwelling to be flooded was Harry’s, built well above the level of the usual winter floods but no match for this freakish deluge. Harry, Jane and the three children moved into the homestead until their house had been thoroughly cleaned and the timbers damaged by the flood replaced, and that the Leiths survived the ensuing weeks of strife was a source of wonder to the rest of the family for long afterwards. The apparent miracle was put down to the fact that Jane had not yet recovered her full strength after Robert’s birth, so was unable to put much energy into fighting with Susannah.

  Life had almost resumed its usual patterns when Michael Kelly made his way into the world, with nurse and grandmother duly in attendance. Relieved of his burden of worry over Lizzie, Frank could give more attention to tending his cows and acting as midwife to whichever of them needed his help. The new Jersey calves spread their arrivals around the baby’s, one heifer and a bull calf a few days before, and a second heifer a week after Michael’s birth.

  With a total lack of justice, Lizzie told anyone who would listen that Frank had worried more about the Jerseys than he had about her, but now that they had weathered the latest storm Frank was too contented to rise to her teasing. Two more heifers to add to his growing tally of pedigree Jerseys; a dozen half-breeds to replace the older Shorthorns and thus improve the cream content of the milk he sold to the factory; another son who in a few years would help him on the farm; and best of all: Lizzie hale and strong as ever, Lizzie supporting whatever he did, Lizzie giving him a reason to do it at all.

  30

  December 1892 – March 1893

  That December Sophie produced her second son, a little dark-haired child they named Andrew, in the way she did most things: placidly and uncomplaining. The family took Andrew’s arrival in much the same way as Sophie did; a seco
nd son and fifth grandson was an occasion for no more than mild celebration, and the most obvious effect was that the youngest John graduated from being known as ‘Baby’ to the more appropriate ‘Boy’ now that there was a real baby.

  Later in the month, two days after Bill and Lily’s first anniversary, came a birth that caused far more excitement. In fact, Arthur’s reaction to the birth of Lily’s son came dangerously close to straining Lizzie’s friendship with Lily beyond mending.

  ‘Come and see my grandson,’ Arthur greeted Frank and Lizzie when they arrived the day after the birth to pay their first visit to the baby. ‘No, don’t worry about the horses—Ernie, see to Frank’s horses.’ He drew the Kelly family towards the house in his wake. Mickey stirred for a moment in Lizzie’s arms, then settled again as she walked.

  ‘Edie?’ Arthur called as they trooped in the back door. ‘They’re here to see him.’

  Edie emerged from Bill’s bedroom. ‘For goodness sake, Arthur, don’t make so much noise,’ she scolded. To Frank’s amazement, Arthur looked abashed.

  ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘I didn’t wake the little fellow, did I?’

  ‘He’s already awake,’ Edie said, smiling. ‘He’s just had a feed and he’s all sleepy and nice. Now,’ she said, taking charge of the situation and clearly in her element with a baby in the house for her to fuss over, ‘you children can just have a peep at him, then go outside and keep out of the way. The rest of you try not to make too much row. Lily’s worn out, poor love.’ She hurried up to Lizzie and said in a whisper loud enough for Frank to catch, ‘In labour for two days and two nights, the poor dear. Bill’s been beside himself.’