Song of the Spirits by Sarah Lark

horse’s ancestors from Connemara. He found it much more important that that evening, after this walk, he was to meet Elaine’s parents, Ruben and Fleurette O’Keefe. Of course, he had already seen and spoken briefly with them. After all, he had made all of his purchases in their store. But now he had been invited to dinner, and would therefore be socializing with them more intimately. He was in desperate need of that. That morning, Joey had dissolved their partnership. While the old gold miner had initially been patient with him, William’s “lack of drive,” as he called it, had gotten on his nerves after just a week. William, however, had found it completely normal to slow down after the first hard few days. The pain in his muscles needed to abate, after all. And there was time. William was in no hurry. Joey, on the other hand, had made it clear to William that, for him, every day without a gold find was a day lost. He was not dreaming of whisper-worthy sized nuggets, just a bit of gold dust to buy his whiskey and secure his daily portion of stew or mutton at the campfire.
    “Nothing’ll ever come out of workin’ with a spoiled boy like you!” he yelled. Apparently, another partner had turned up who had at least as promising a claim and was prepared to share it with Joey.Joey’s own claim had long since been exhausted; he’d had little luck with his allotment.
    William would now have to carry on alone or seek alternative employment. He decided on the latter. Already the early mornings and late evenings offered a foretaste of winter in the mountains. Queenstown was supposed to be completely covered in snow in July and August—which was no doubt very lovely—but panning for gold in icy rivers? William could think of pleasanter things. Perhaps Ruben O’Keefe would have an idea or two.

    William had already seen the O’Keefes’ property from the river. Compared to Martyn Manor, it was not very impressive, consisting only of a homey wooden house with a garden and some stables. But here in this new land, one had to make allowances when it came to the stateliness of residences. And aside from its primitive architecture, Gold Nugget Manor did indeed have several things in common with the homes of the English landed nobility, including the dogs that leaped at you as soon as you stepped onto the property. William’s mother had owned corgis. Here they employed some sort of collie—sheepdogs—which, as Elaine excitedly explained, were imports from Wales. Elaine’s mother, Fleurette, had brought the bitch, Gracie, from the Canterbury Plains, and Gracie had proliferated with enthusiasm. Why they had brought the dogs to New Zealand was a mystery to William, but to Elaine and her family, nothing could have been more natural.
    Ruben O’Keefe had not yet arrived home, so William let himself be taken on a tour through the stables to meet Elaine’s wonderful Banshee.
    “She’s something special since she’s white. That’s rare among cobs. My grandmother has only had bays and black horses otherwise. But Banshee descends from a Welsh mountain pony that mother received when she was a child. She lived to be incredibly old. I even rode her myself.”
    Elaine prattled on unceasingly, but that did not especially bother William. He found the girl charming, and her effervescent temperament raised his spirits. Elaine seemed unable to keep still. Her red locks bounced in rhythm with her every movement. Moreover, she had made herself pretty for him today. She wore a grass-green dress set off with brown bobbin lace. She had attempted to tie her hair into a sort of ponytail with silk ribbons, but it was hopeless; even before Elaine had ended her tour of the town, her hairstyle had become disheveled. William began to contemplate what it would be like to kiss this tomboy. He’d had experience with many girls in Dublin who were more or less up for sale, as well as with the daughters of his Irish tenants; some of the girls had been