he rigged up for the freeholders around here. He’s just chock full o’ ideas and always dreamin’ and readin’ and talkin’ about ’em. That’s what girls like. He’ll be as good in a girl’s eyes as his brother—better I shouldn’t wonder.
2nd Shep.
He’s no good for the war.
1st Shep.
And what matters that? Am I any good for the war? Down Scottie, down will ye! Yourself is not much good for the war, and yet a pretty girl or two don’t come amiss to your eyes even though they never looked at ye. War! You’re crazy on the war. Why man it’s more’n ten thousand miles off and it’s a game for the young chaps anyway.
2nd Shep.
It’s no game.
1st Shep.
It’ll raise the price of sheep. That’s one thing I’m thinking. And we have more sheep on this station to-day than there have been in my memory. Aren’t there now?
2nd Shep.
Aye.
(Gordon Hyde comes slowly on from right wing, a fishing rod and bag of fish on his shoulder. He is slight, bronzed, and with a fine noble face. He limps, his leg dragging. 1st Shepherd takes up a tin of salmon and slowly begins to prepare to open it.)
Gordon.
There’s a good haul for supper, lads. (Throws down fish.)
(The Shepherds move a little from the fire respectfully, but don’t touch their hats or get up.)
1st Shep.
Aye, aye, Boss.
(He is just about to insert the tin opener, Gordon suddenly notices him.)
Gordon.
What have you got there?
1st Shep.
A tin of salmon, Boss.
Gordon.
Stop opening it then. Use that fresh fish instead. Tinned stuff is extra valuable nowadays. It can be sent to the front. We have time to think out here on these hills. I have thought till my head reeled and not yet found out what big things we can do for our country, but the little duties are clear enough, and one of ’em is not to be wasteful.
2nd Shep.
Aye, Boss. That’s true.
(1st Shepherd shamefacedly lays down the tin.)
1st Shep.
Eh, Boss, the sheep’s fine this year.
Gordon.
What is the full tally?
1st Shep.
Mr. Robert hasn’t come in yet, but from what I’ve heard, it looks to be the best year on this station.
Gordon.
Fine. We can’t have too much wool and mutton this year.
(Roto comes on from left second Entrance, somewhat staggering under two pails of water. He is an old Maori, with straight black hair turning white, and a few tatoo marks on his face. He has high cheek bones, a broad nose, and full lips, but is light brown in colour and very intelligent and fine in expression. He wears a short pair of pants, and a piece of fine matting on his shoulders, his scanty shirt is open at the neck and a string with a carved green jade charm is partly seen.)
Roto.
Here is the water for Miss Nora’s tea, Boss.
1st Shep.
(To 2nd Shep.) She has an healthier thirst than yours.
Gordon.
(Busying himself smoothing a seat of fern.) She’ll be tired after that long ride.
1st Shep.
The other lady’ll be worse. She’s not native born like Miss Nora.
Gordon.
(Quickly.) Her fine lady cousin! She’s coming, of course. I’d forgotten! Here, you chaps, get that place straight. (Indicates the shelter, which shows a disorder of blankets, etc.) What is this sheep doing here?
1st Shep.
Her leg broke when she tried to push through over a rocky bit. I have tethered her down. The young lady may like to pat her or tie a ribbon round her neck perhaps.
Gordon.
(Grinning.) You old fool. All right. Leave her. Go and straighten things up a bit in the shelter. ’Tis like a pig-stye.
(A clatter of horses hoofs, shouts of “Whoa there, Nellie. Here we are,” etc., is heard without. Two Girls with riding hats and whips ENTER front right wing.
Nora Lee is dainty with light hair and a rather sunburnt face and neck. She has pale lashes; she is petite and pretty and rather self-assured. She advances laughing.)
Nora.
Here we are!
Gordon.
(Springing up and limping hurriedly to meet her, taking off his hat.) Oh, Nora, I’m glad you’ve come.
Nora.
Where is Robert?
Gordon.
Out with the men. He’ll be back by tea-time.
(Loveday stands a little back looking round and waiting. She is taller than Nora; a splendidly built, dark-haired and beautiful woman, with a clear skin, deep searching eyes, regular features. She walks like a Queen and has a deep-toned, but soft and thrilling voice. She is all in white.)
Nora.
This is my cousin, Loveday Lewisham, Gordon.
(Loveday smiles, comes forward and shakes hands with Gordon.)
You know I told you all about her, and how she broke down with war-work in England and is going to make her home with us for six months. You know.
Gordon.
I do know. (Smiles.) I wish you welcome, Miss Lewisham.
Nora.
Loveday.
Gordon.
Yes.
