Nora.
London is not remote from the war, andifyour ideas aren’t boiled gooseberries, they had better get to London.
Loveday.
Of course they will get to London. All ideas reach London in the end.
Gordon.
Robert left me here on trust. I must keep his sheep going, at any rate till I can get a responsible manager. Then I’ll go to London.
Nora.
London has got too many ideas of its own to listen to an utterly unknown New Zealand sheep farmer.
Gordon.
(Sighing.) It may take time!
Nora.
(Laughing.) Time! It’ll take more than time. You don’t know a soul in London.
Gordon.
I don’t, that’s flat.
Loveday.
Ido.
Nora.
Youdo? Of course you do. You will have to write him introductions. How will you begin? “A young genius, called Gordon Hyde, has ideas to set the Thames on fire. For love of me please give him a match”—or—“Gordon Hyde is my dear friend, and a dear fool, and as sometimes fools rush in where angels fear to tread, please send him in your motor car at once to the Prime Minister.”
(Bothlaugh, thoughGordonflushes as if somewhat hurt.)
Loveday.
You laugh because you don’t know how powerful a really great idea is.
Nora.
I don’t. Perhaps because I’ve never met one.
Loveday.
(SeeingGordonlooking wistfully atNora, rises.) Here, Gordon, give me those papers. We have done enough for the present. I’ll take them into the house. (She saunters along the verandah and enters the house.)
Gordon.
Sit down, Nora. You’ll be tired after picking all that fruit. I’ll carry it over for you when you are rested.
Nora.
I can carry it quite well myself. I’m every bit as strong as you.
Gordon.
Don’t, Nora. Don’t always be cruel now.
Nora.
I’m not cruel. It would be much crueller to keep you dangling around, puffed up with hope.
Gordon.
I’d be happier.
Nora.
Only for a bit. It couldn’t go on.
Gordon.
Why not?
Nora.
Am I the kind of girl never to marry?
Gordon.
Nora! You’re not—not engaged?
Nora.
Not—yet.
Gordon.
But—when will it be, I wonder!
Nora.
Now, you are rude. Couldn’t I be engaged any minute I liked.
Gordon.
Nora, how you tease me! And yet, I believe, underneath it all you are fond of me—a little.
Nora.
Of course, I’m fond of you. We were brought up like brother and sister.
Gordon.
But now, Nora—oh, bother!
(There is a hullabaloo outside andRotoand the1st Shepherdrun on looking towards road and shouting.)
Roto.1st Shep.
Hey, mister, here’s a sight. Look at that now! The first, the very first that’s been along that road. Hoo-o!
(There is the sound of a carefully driven car, and a spidery looking motor car driven byVarliedraws up at the gate.Varliewaves his hat.Allrun forward,Lovedaycomes out of the house, the collie dog runs up, and a babble ensues.)
Varlie.
Yes, siree. I’m the boy to get the hustle on to these roads. I’ll lay my bottom dollar this is the first car that has pulled up at this Homestead.
Several.
Yes. It is. It is that. Just fancy!
Nora.
I say,whatan idea! You are a smart man, Mr. Varlie.
Varlie.
Smart! It ’ud tickle a racer to get ahead of me. I’m out to bring this country up to date. Why, you folk would go on sleeping here same as if automobiles had never been invented.
Loveday.
And I wish they hadn’t!
Varlie.
You just say that, Miss Loveday, because you are a beautiful English girl—for England’s so small it is most over-run with automobiles, that drop off it into the sea—but you wait till you see what this little roundabout can do for these God-forsaken stations.
Gordon.
(Grinning amiably.) Don’t you lay it on too thick if you want to sell your car. And I suppose that’s what you’re after?
Varlie.
Sure! (Laughing.) Did you think I was intending to give it to you?
Gordon.
We might do without it.
Varlie.
Not likely. Not when you had once set eyes on it. The ladies would fair grab at it if you let it slip.
Nora.
There is my dad—he’ll be mad not to see it. He is away out in the hills, or I’d fetch him along this minute.
Varlie.
Waal, let me show you what this little packet of lightening can do. With this back seat raised she will take four of you into the city in just one-third of the time that your horses would take you on their backs. And you arrive spick and span as a daisy in your glad rags instead of carrying your things to change every time there is a dance or a the-atre.
Nora.
(Clapping her hands.) Splendid, simply splendid. Wouldn’t that be lovely!
Loveday.
It might.
Gordon.
If it didn’t jib half way.
Varlie.
No, siree. Not if you drive her right.
Nora.
You’ll have to learn how, Gordon.
Gordon.
Ifyouhave the car I will learn to drive it all right.
Nora.
Imusthave it.
Gordon.
Your dad’ll never spend so much just on your running about.
Varlie.
But I’ve not done yet, by gum! See what business she’ll do. See what she will carry. If you don’t have that little back seat raised, but have it locked down, this whole back top of her will open out on a hinge, and run behind on runners, stretching her out like a trolley car. See? (He manipulates the back of car as he speaks.) Then you put up these rails, bolt ’em together—and look at the freight she’ll carry!
Nora,GordonandOthersTogether
Wonderful! I say, that’s neat. Fancy that now! That’s a difference from my young days.
Varlie.
She won’t carry machinery or dead weight like that—but all your ordinary freight—flour, groceries—all you want out from the city—she’ll take in your fruit so that you can sell it fresh in town instead of letting it rot on your trees—she—
Gordon.
Have you sold any around here?
Varlie.
Sold any? Why, there’s scarcely a station that isn’t ordering one.
Nora.
We must, dadmust!
Varlie.
Ah, Miss Nora. I bet your poppa knows his duty to a peach like you!
Gordon.
(Prowls round the car, examining it closely and with interest.) Where was she made?
Varlie.
That’s an Amurrican made sample, but when I have booked enough orders, the firm will set up and make them here.
Gordon.
It is ingenious.
Varlie.
Any suggestion you like to make, sir, I’ll report to my firm. We are out to supply to this country what she requires. It’s a fresh, growing country with fresh-growing needs, and the firm that doesn’t try to foist off continental models into it, but supplies those needs, will get some business.
Gordon.
That is so.
Varlie.
Why, the folk around here don’t know what it is to spend money. There’s a power of unconscious demands right here waiting the supplies. You need to learn how to require luxuries.
Gordon.
(Hotly.) And waste good work making things we are happier without! No! Till this war is settled up, and after it, till everyone is fed and clothed decently, work must be spent on those jobs, not on senseless fripperies which enslave us to make some soulless idiot rich!
Varlie.
(Strolls towards seat, down left.) Say! Have you got any lemonade? I’m as dry as a fish. (Sits.)
(NoraandLovedaysit near him.)
Gordon.
Here, Roto, fetch along the drinks! (Rotohurries into the house.)
1st Shep.
(Hovering near car, toGordon.) Eh! But it’s a fair miracle. Boss!
Gordon.
(Leaving the car and coming to outskirts of group, down left.) Like all miracles, it don’t seemsureto work.
(Rotoreturns, with tray of drinks and tumblers.Gordonhelps to hand them round.)
Gordon.
(To1st Shepherd, stretching out with a tumbler towards him.) Here you are.
1st Shep.
Thank you, Boss. (Comes up to outskirts of group and stands there sipping his drink.)
Varlie.
(Cheerily.) Waal, and how have you been making time fly since I was here last?
Nora.
Much as usual, only we work harder and—(laughs)—Gordon moons more than ever now he has someone to encourage him!
Varlie.
Ah, writes poetry, does he, poor chap?
Gordon.
No. I don’t.
Nora.
Well, what you do is just as useless.
Loveday.
It isn’t! He is working out ideas of great practical use—immense—there is nothing more important in the world.
Varlie.
Sothat’show the land lies! (Twinkling a knowing look atLoveday’sunconscious face.) And whatisthe great idea, if I don’t intrude?
Gordon.
It is to make another such war as this impossible.
Varlie.
Oh, ho! That’s arealsmart idea, that is! Are you going to do it by preaching to the armies, or lovin’ ’em like brothers, or how?
(Rotoand1st Shepherdguffaw loudly.)
Gordon.
I’m no silly mug of a pacifist.
Nora.
Theiridea—
Loveday.
Hisidea—
Nora.
Well then, as you like—his idea is to have only one army in the world. Ha, ha, ha. He, he, he! Isn’t that practical!
Loveday.
Nora, youarea tease! It’s nothing of the sort, Mr. Varlie. Gordon’s idea is to have an international parliament, a super-parliament, and for that to have complete control of an international army, and also—what is very important—complete control of all armament making.
Gordon.
Then any nation would have all the rest of the world against it directly it tried to do anything aggressive.
Loveday.
Yes. That’s where it will get Germany so splendidly. Germanypretendsshe goes in for her militarism only for self-preservation. Now this international scheme will secure her self-preservation, but will entirely destroy her militarism and make her aggression impossible!
Varlie.
Donnerwetter!(Confused, trying to cover his mistake.) Sake’salive—
Nora.
(Pertly.) Areyoua German?
Varlie.
What do you take me for? I’m Amurrican. But I’ve travelled in Germany, like most travellers.
Nora.
It would be a joke if you were a German, wouldn’t it?
Varlie.
(Cheerfully.) I’d be taking risks, wouldn’t I? But let’s hear more of this idea. It’s a great idea if it’ll kill German militarism! Why (looking atGordon), I’d no idea you were such a top hole genius.
Loveday.
Now you’re laughing, too. None of you seem to think warcanbe made impossible.
Roto.
That it can’t, Missy. Not while men are men.
1st Shep.
(Agreeing.) That’s so, that’s so!
Loveday.
How canyouthink that, Roto? Why, there used to be war in this very land between you and the English, and now there is none.
Roto.
That’s because the Pakeha are strong. They make laws we have to obey. If a Maori kill a Pakeha or a Maori now, the Maori is hung by the law. So Maori and Pakeha live without killing.
Loveday.
But that’s just it! If the International Parliament was strong and it made laws, the nations would have to obey and if one nation went to war and tried to kill another,that nation would suffer. So the nations would live without war.
1st Shep.
(Shaking his head.) He, he, he! That’s likely! (Whistles to the collie and goes off.)
Varlie.
Germany would never consent.
Gordon.
Then she would openly proclaim that her militarism is aggressive and not for self-defence. It would have to be one of the terms of peace that she did come in.
Varlie.
Waal, that may not be so easy.
Loveday.
Then all the more need for Gordon’s scheme. It is the only way to destroy militarism.
Gordon.
Without some such plan the nations will all be burdened beyond endurance, with armament making and the upkeep of armies.
Loveday.
And all the lovely face of England will be scarred with factories and works, and her people go grey and weary under roofs instead of singing while they work under the blue sky. And not only in England but everywhere, machines, machines, machines will sap the vitals of men and women and make life a grey and sordid fear!
Nora.
Aren’t they justtooabsurd for anything, those two! As though it wastheirbusiness to set the world right!
Gordon.
Whose is it then?
Nora.
Nobody’s.
Gordon.
It is the business of everyone to make the world safer and morebeautiful—
Nora.
(Putting her fingers in her ears.) Aren’t they hopeless! (ToVarlie.) Come along, and I’ll show you my bed of English roses. You’ll like them.
Varlie.
(Rises, throws down a nearly burnt cigar and goes with her across stage, standing down right with her to admire a rose bed in bloom.) I guess you’re the best rose among them all.
Nora.
(Smiles as if pleased.) You have nothing to sellme!
Varlie.
No. But I might have something to give.
(MeanwhileGordonlimps off after smiling atLoveday. She picks up a book and begins to read.)
Nora.
Younever give anything unless you get its value back!
Varlie.
This time it is a free gift I’m thinking of, but I don’t deny I might get its value back! More than its value perhaps.
Nora.
Well, I’m sure you haven’t got anything I want as a gift.
Varlie.
Ah, you Angel face. Couldn’t you take a free gift of a man?
Nora.
What man?
Varlie.
Suppose it was myself!
Nora.
(Meditating.) You are aman.
Varlie.
I am that. Would you take me as a free gift?
Nora.
But what would I do with you?
Varlie.
Waal—what does a woman do with a man? Sometimes she marries him.
Nora.
Oh! Well—butthatwouldn’t be a free gift of a man. You would get me in exchange.
Varlie.
Didn’t I say I might get more than its value back for my gift?
(MeanwhileRotois sitting on the ground not far fromLoveday, finishingVarlie’scigar, and playing with a carved jade curio. Between the puffs of the cigar, and under his breath, he hums snatches of the following song:
[Roto.
He roa te wa ki TipirereHe tino mamao,He roa te wa ki Tipirere,Ki taku kotiro.E noho pikatiri,Hei kona rehita koea,He mamao rawa TipirereKa tae ahua.])
Nora.
Then that’s no bargain for me!
Varlie.
Say, you think it over. I’ve got a mighty fine business now, and you could help me in it. You could live in the city or run about with me or whatever you liked—and say, Angel face, I think you are just the best ever!
Nora.
You’re smart—but—
Varlie.
(Leans over quickly and kisses her.) Say, Angel face, that’s a man’s kiss, ain’t it?
Nora.
Oh! (Confused, half pleased, half indignant.) That’s not how to treat New Zealand girls! (She runs into house and slams the door.)
(Varlie, satisfied with himself, strolls back across stage and stands looking down at the green jade curioRotois cleaning carefully.Lovedaycontinues to read near by.)
Varlie.
Say, Sambo, what’s that pretty thing?
Roto.
I’m not a Sambo.
Varlie.
That’s right. I beg yours.
Roto.
(Resentfully.) My name’s Roto, and I thought you knew it, Boss.
Varlie.
I did, then I didn’t, and I do now. Waal, Roto, let’s get back to the trail. What’s that? (Seats himself so that he can see the curio inRoto’shands.)
Roto.
That’s a hei-tiki.
Varlie.
A hei-tiki, is it? Does it tick?
Roto.
Silly joke. Hei-tiki is Maori.
Varlie.
What for?
Roto.
For this. (Shows greenstone charm round his neck.) Same here.
Varlie.
Let me see.
Roto.
No. No one touch but me. It is tapu.
Varlie.
Tapu? What does that mean?
Roto.
No one may touch but me. This one is tapu, sacred.
Varlie.
I won’t hurt it.
Roto.
When tapu put on anything, no one can touch unless tapu is raised.
Varlie.
Waal, and how is the tapu raised?
Roto.
Long ago, only death did—now—oh now, in weak men’s time—moneywill raise tapu.
Varlie.
The almighty dollar! And how much money will raise this tapu?
Roto.
Much, very much.
Varlie.
Why?
Roto.
This very rare, very useful hei-tiki.
Varlie.
How so?
Roto.
It has death in it, secret, strong death.
(Lovedaylooks up from her reading and watches quietly, and with simple curiosity.)
Varlie.
How?
Roto.
Great secret. A very great wise chief found how to get secret poison from karaka kernels.
Varlie.
Karaka?
Roto.
Every New Zealand Pakeha knows karaka seeds, very bad poison. But kills too quick, too ugly, legs all stiff anyhow—all know that karaka poison. But this great chief took part of karaka seed-poison, mixed with magic, and then it kills more slowly in one, two hours after, like as if the man died of himself.
Varlie.
And who doyouwant to kill?
Roto.
Me? No fellow. All friends. But this hei-tiki useful. It has secret poison, nodoctor could tell was poison. That’s why tapu would cost much for a pakeha to touch it.
Varlie.
I’d like to have it. How much?
Roto.
Good Maori-stone carved hei-tiki, with secret death. Very much cost.
Varlie.
Twenty shillings?
Roto.
Oh, no, no! Two hundred shillings.
Varlie.
Gosh! Let me see it.
Roto.
No.
Varlie.
Waal, you can’t get my bottom dollar for a thing I haven’t even seen!
Roto.
(Holds it carefully in his hands.) Well, see.
(The audience also can see a green jade carving of very peculiar shape.)
Varlie.
Where is the poison?
Roto.
Quite safe. Inside. If top pressed hard, pushes bottom on one side, and poison drops out.
Varlie.
Is the poison coloured?
Roto.
Three or four drops clear like water. One drop enough. Try! And take the poison yourself!
Varlie.
You old scamp. I guess you are not friends with me. You’d like me to take the poison!
Roto.
(Cunningly.) You’re not deep friend to our Pakeha, are you?
Varlie.
(Laughing noisily.) That’s a good one! (Looks up and seesLoveday.) Say, Miss Loveday, did you hear that? He don’t seem to trust me!
Loveday.
He has queer intuitions sometimes. But perhaps he is only afraid of your business superiority.
Roto.
Very cheap, Maori-stone, safe kill, no pakeha doctor could tell.
Varlie.
(Laughing.) He’s a nice villain!
Loveday.
He’s all right. If he wanted to use it he wouldn’t talk about it.
Varlie.
You’re smart. Do you believe in it? Or is he just pulling my leg?
Loveday.
I believe in it. Gordon knows about a thing like that. I thought he said it was the last though.
Roto.
This theverylast. This worth much money.
Varlie.
(Taking out a pocketful of money.) Come. I’ll have it, to keep you out of mischief. Take twenty shillings?
Roto.
No.
Varlie.
Forty then?
Roto.
No.
Varlie.
Fifty then? (Lays out the money temptingly.)
Roto.
(Looks eagerly at it, then yields.) Ten more.
Varlie.