How beautiful that view is. And what a ride we had. Three hours of fairyland!
Nora.
Oh, that’s nothing! Let us show her everything. Where’s old Roto? She wants to see a Maori. And where is Robert?
Gordon.
I’ll coo-ee for Robert.
(His coo-ee is long and penetrating so that it re-echoes.)
And there is Roto. Hi. Come along, Roto. Miss Nora wants to show you off.
(Roto advances from shelter, which is now in better order, the blankets piled up, etc.)
Roto.
(Grinning.) Here, Miss Nora.
Nora.
Good-day, Roto. See, Loveday. This is a real live Maori. Nothing wonderful after all!
Loveday.
Oh, how do you do?
Roto.
Finely, Miss.
Loveday.
(Smiling winningly.) You are not nearly so terrifying as I expected!
Roto.
(Grinning, pleased.) Maoris not allowed to be terrible now, Miss.
Loveday.
That is a shame. I’d so much rather be a savage myself. What do you do now they won’t let you be a savage any more?
Roto.
Help with the sheep and cook.
Loveday.
(Stooping forward and taking hold of Roto’s green jade charm hanging on its long string round his neck.) And what is that queer thing you wear round your neck?
Nora.
(Hastily.) A jade charm—these natives often wear them. They are very superstitious.
Gordon.
The Maoris believe in all sorts of charms and magic and spirits. They have a legend about these forests, for instance, that a goddess of wisdom lives in these hill tops and is a tree by day and a white woman at night.
Loveday.
(Her eyes sparkling). Have you seen her?
Gordon.
Not yet—but sometimes—
Loveday.
But sometimes—go on—do tell me—
Gordon.
Sometimes after a day alone in these forests, at sunset, when the heavens seem opening, one half imagines Wisdom is just behind one, slipping between the trees—I (hesitates).
Loveday.
What an enchanting country. Tell me—
(Sounds of arrival disturb them. Robert Hyde enters. He is like Gordon, but much sturdier. He is very strong and manly, with a more sensual and less spiritual face. A very good fellow.)
Nora.
Here’s Robert. Robert! I have brought Loveday. This is Loveday Lewisham. She arrived last week, when you were out here. She would come so as to see a camp before you break it up. She wants to see everything.
(Robert and Loveday shake hands. Robert is evidently much impressed.)
Robert.
I’ll show her. (Goes over towards fire, and points to sheep enclosures at back.) Do you see those? That’s just the beginning of them. We have a rare good lot of sheep this year.
Loveday.
I am glad. We need everything good we can get this year.
Robert.
We need everything we can get every year.
Loveday.
But this year specially. There are so many people in England who need extra feeding and clothing. Your sheep will be useful.
Robert.
I hadn’t thought of that.
Gordon.
Wool and mutton! Both necessaries. Of course we’ve all thought of that, Robert.
Nora.
Loveday is simply obsessed with the idea of the war, and says we ought not to have any luxuries.
2nd Shep.
Aye. She’s right.
Loveday.
What is that sheep doing? (Goes toward the lame sheep by the fire.)
Robert.
I dunno. Sick, I expect. Here, Roto. What is that sheep here for?
Roto.
Leg broke, Boss.
Loveday.
Oh, isn’t it thirsty? Look how its tongue hangs out. Let me give it some water.
Robert.
(Smiling.) It doesn’t want water.
Loveday.
Are sheep like rabbits? Don’t they need water?
Roto.
(Laughing.) Rabbits!
Robert.
(Smiling.) Don’t you speak of rabbits to a New Zealander! Rabbits are the very devil here! We poison ’em, we shoot ’em, we trap ’em, we set dogs on ’em, we set stoats on to ’em, we imported weasels to catch ’em, we sent to Europe for ferrets to hike ’em out, we breed cats to catch ’em, we wire ’em in, and burn ’em out, and set poisoned corn over their runs, and kill ’em by thousands—but millions of ’em spring up out of the very earth and sometimes threaten to starve out the sheep, they clear the grass out. Rabbits! For the Lord’s sake don’t speak affectionately of rabbits.
Loveday.
(Laughing
