Evening star., 1921-08-14

the ranges.
And willis. his yellow hair ruffled
into strange feathers, his queer,
forty-year-old little face looking Old
and young at the same time, as l sup
pose only poets faces do look. stared
and stared and drew and drew long
breaths of interest.
TT is all invaluable-from a lit
erary point of view." he said
AS for me- his saying made me sorry
for him. l can't exactly explain. 1t
seemed connected with his little legs
and his thin. roosterlike neck. ana
the fact that he had never been drunk
in his life. I'd hate to be-outside.
OF course, you have to be outside to
see But who wants to see? Doing is
SO much more.
The night had fully come: there
were bell birds clanking and clinking
all through the gorges below the
house, and once a giant frog bleated
from some creek. Then the night rain
burst like a dam. and we began NOV
ing about the hut to find dry place
to sit in.
You couldn't hear any one talk at
frst: found, to my annoyance some
what, that 1 had lost the old power
downpours of the hills. When the
rain suddenly jerked itself short off
and took breathing space. mad got
a good bit behind the conversation.
"Oh. companion" Nambu was say
ing. "she is very much devil-devil."
Most women are" l agreed. not
particularly interested.
And you were devil-dev:l, too,
Pigeon of the Hills. so no doubt it is
the custom of your people"
'.Oh, yes. companion" l said absent
ly. I was getting very sleepy now
my mat in the old. old way and let
the thunder of the night rains and
the rain-fed river whelm me into
sleep-as in long ago.
7 MUST have nodded forward. for the
= next thing l remember is jerking
myself back and listening, suddenly
quite wide awake, to what Nambu
was saying.
1--WE think she is bad to look at" he
said. "Our young men do not wish
to marry her. and yet there were girls
who cooked potatoes for you. Pigeon
though you were SO young. 1t is quite
true, you were bad to look at also,
but they did not mind that. Eut a
dim dim girl, that is another thing"
"A what?" 1 yelled.
Nambu looked at me reproachfully.
,
rudely raise his voice unless he hap
pens to be raiding a village; then
but you men who have been through
the war don't need to be told We
are. like the coloners lady and Judy
O'Grady. all one family under our
skins.
Did you say there was a dim dim
girl here?" / cried. who is she. How
long has she been here? And how
how-how did she get here? .
You cannot say how the devil
in any native language; it is a pity.
Rothery. who knew the word for
Good Lord~ / said. ut means a
white girl. no less. And he says
there's one here"
Isn't that impossible?"
"Of course. But it seems to have hap
pened." l showered questions on Nam
bu Generally speaking, the passage
of any white person through the in
terror of New Guinea leaves a wake
as big as that traced by white ele-
phant in an English village. 1t SEEM
ed unthinkable, first, that any white
woman should have penetrated to
those formidable Businesses; secondly.
that the whole country should not
have been ringing with it II she had.
Hold on" said Willis Unexpectedly,
after l had translated a question and
answer or two. Il think l can tell
you something. He says that it was
a white baby, and that they got it
fifteen yam seasons ago. counted on
two hands and one foot. and that
yes, but the last only means that
he won't tell"
Hold on! 1 remember everything
l read. 1 read about this. It's Grace
Gordon" -------
Grace how much? This isn't the
nr tn
cry. What tree do you think you're
barking up?"
81 don't think; I know. Fifteen
years ago there was missionary and
his wife murdered somewhere in this
part of New Guinea or near it. Her
name was Jessie Gordon and his was
Campbell Gordon, and they had a
baby girl called Grace. who was
killed, too-so 1t was said. Why. man,
there was quite lot of fuss made
about it"
IT remember. now you tell me. At
was never thought any one survived"
ut seems clear some one did" said
Willis Rothery positively. This is
Grace Gordon for a ducat. carried off
into the hills"
t<TF she is." said, "she will be a
proper little savage. was pretty
much of a Papuan when they found
me. and I'd had ten years of white
people first. But this child can't
have been two. They spoke of her
as a .prattling babe if I remem-
Willis rose to his feet 1t may have
been because he had been ruffling up
his hair, but l swear he looked an
inch or two taller.
Simon" he said, with a tremble in
his voice, you and 1 will go and
rescue her.
What from?" asked "She wouldn't
thank you. She has settled down
among them, and must be a native in
all but color. Remember what the
Jesuit said about the first six years
Of child's life.'
He brushed my words aside.
She must be rescued" he said.
by all means. il it amuses' you,
old man." 1 answered. Anything to
please. Nambu will take us to the
village tomorrow. and you can do all
the rescuing you want; l expect it
glad to get rid of aher. She doesn't
seem the idol of the village, exactly"
That's settled. then" said Willis.
"Why-where are the menT'
talking. They don't move about like
eiepudntS-OF white people.
What way did they go?"
Out at the front"
"But that's impossiblew screamed
the poet, balancing hurricane lamp In
hand. over the verge of a pretty steep
precipice. 1t was not quite perpen-
dtcular. but 1t looked very nearly so.
rs it. Those are their torches bob
bing about halfway down."
Marsh lights surely"
DO you want me to go down and show
you?" asked, unlacing my boots. "Just