for any wisp of smoke coming out in the wrong places. But no, the high chimney carried it all clear of the thatch.
Small though it was, the hut was completely sound. The ratholes along the earthen floor had to be stopped up with stones. As for the roof, a few patches of thatch needed renewing, and this had to be done with tussock which was not handy to find; so Jack and Bill, who had thought they were free of flax-cutting, were sent again to the nearby gully to fetch flax and toetoe for temporary repairs.
Archie and Mrs Phipps took out the axe and cut a pile of strong, supple branches to mend the bunks. There was no sacking to be found, but in the gully there was a mass of vine—pohuehue—with dry, springy stalks, which was as good as a wire mattress. The blankets were aired and shaken and laid neatly on top.
Now the boxes were soused in the tide to cleanse them of insects, and dried out in the sunshine before being arranged for table and chairs and shelves. Jack sat cross-legged on the ground plaiting one flax rope after another and enjoying the work. The ropes were slung across and along the room to carry clothes and other belongings, for there were no cupboards or drawers. Pots and pans, cups and plates, all had to be arranged.‘A place for everything and everything in its place!’ said Mrs Phipps.
In the midst of it all danced Emma, bent on finding the best place for Bibi, but each time the doll had to make way for something else. So Jack made her a tiny flax hammock and hung it in the corner. ‘Lullabye, bye, bye!’ crooned Emma, as she swung the doll in the hammock happily to and fro.
At last Mrs Phipps surveyed the room and could think of only one more thing to be done. She took out her own treasure—the toby-jug that had been a wedding present.
‘Who will find me some flowers? You, Jim?’
‘Me, me!’ cried Emma. She did not know enough words to explain, but she had seen flowers down near the spring. Off she ran with Jim after her. Yes, there was a bush covered with purple-pink spikes—the koromiko. Emma was in such a hurry she would have pulled every flower off short if Jim had not been there to make sure of good long stalks.
‘Why, it’s like a bottlebrush!’ said Mrs Phipps, very pleased. ‘Only there’s no handle coming out at the end.’
She set the toby-jug full of flowers on the window-ledge; and the house became a home.
8. The Robber in the Garden
After lunch, which was of bread and cheese and a drink of milk, Mrs Phipps examined her garden.
Beneath its covering of weeds, the dug ground should be full of potatoes. But what were the bare patches where the ground had been torn up? Had someone been here to rob—Maoris perhaps, who used some digging stick instead of a regular spade? She turned over the patches carefully. Yes, her guess was right: there were no potatoes here. Only where the weeds were undisturbed did she find them, and they were no great crop, even there. There would certainly not be enough to feed them through the winter.
She sat down in the sunshine to rest, feeling disappointed and baffled.
Emma was fast asleep on her new bunk, and Jim and Archie were stretched out on the ground, still weary after yesterday’s wanderings and today’s hard work. Bill and Jack had gone to Mr Dyer to ask for advice on where they might buy some hens. There was no sign of them yet; and Mrs Phipps got up again and went on to examine the edges of the clearing.
Ah! This was better! There were small fruit trees and berry bushes, well placed for the sun. Creepers were already clambering over them, but half an hour’s pulling left the healthy young branches open to the air. Cherries, plums, peaches, gooseberries, and some shrubs that might perhaps be currants.
‘I must make a list of tools,’ she said to herself. ‘And plants, and seeds. This is warm land that will bring the crops early! Only let us get through the winter, and we shall be prosperous here.’
She took the spade again
Small though it was, the hut was completely sound. The ratholes along the earthen floor had to be stopped up with stones. As for the roof, a few patches of thatch needed renewing, and this had to be done with tussock which was not handy to find; so Jack and Bill, who had thought they were free of flax-cutting, were sent again to the nearby gully to fetch flax and toetoe for temporary repairs.
Archie and Mrs Phipps took out the axe and cut a pile of strong, supple branches to mend the bunks. There was no sacking to be found, but in the gully there was a mass of vine—pohuehue—with dry, springy stalks, which was as good as a wire mattress. The blankets were aired and shaken and laid neatly on top.
Now the boxes were soused in the tide to cleanse them of insects, and dried out in the sunshine before being arranged for table and chairs and shelves. Jack sat cross-legged on the ground plaiting one flax rope after another and enjoying the work. The ropes were slung across and along the room to carry clothes and other belongings, for there were no cupboards or drawers. Pots and pans, cups and plates, all had to be arranged.‘A place for everything and everything in its place!’ said Mrs Phipps.
In the midst of it all danced Emma, bent on finding the best place for Bibi, but each time the doll had to make way for something else. So Jack made her a tiny flax hammock and hung it in the corner. ‘Lullabye, bye, bye!’ crooned Emma, as she swung the doll in the hammock happily to and fro.
At last Mrs Phipps surveyed the room and could think of only one more thing to be done. She took out her own treasure—the toby-jug that had been a wedding present.
‘Who will find me some flowers? You, Jim?’
‘Me, me!’ cried Emma. She did not know enough words to explain, but she had seen flowers down near the spring. Off she ran with Jim after her. Yes, there was a bush covered with purple-pink spikes—the koromiko. Emma was in such a hurry she would have pulled every flower off short if Jim had not been there to make sure of good long stalks.
‘Why, it’s like a bottlebrush!’ said Mrs Phipps, very pleased. ‘Only there’s no handle coming out at the end.’
She set the toby-jug full of flowers on the window-ledge; and the house became a home.
8. The Robber in the Garden
After lunch, which was of bread and cheese and a drink of milk, Mrs Phipps examined her garden.
Beneath its covering of weeds, the dug ground should be full of potatoes. But what were the bare patches where the ground had been torn up? Had someone been here to rob—Maoris perhaps, who used some digging stick instead of a regular spade? She turned over the patches carefully. Yes, her guess was right: there were no potatoes here. Only where the weeds were undisturbed did she find them, and they were no great crop, even there. There would certainly not be enough to feed them through the winter.
She sat down in the sunshine to rest, feeling disappointed and baffled.
Emma was fast asleep on her new bunk, and Jim and Archie were stretched out on the ground, still weary after yesterday’s wanderings and today’s hard work. Bill and Jack had gone to Mr Dyer to ask for advice on where they might buy some hens. There was no sign of them yet; and Mrs Phipps got up again and went on to examine the edges of the clearing.
Ah! This was better! There were small fruit trees and berry bushes, well placed for the sun. Creepers were already clambering over them, but half an hour’s pulling left the healthy young branches open to the air. Cherries, plums, peaches, gooseberries, and some shrubs that might perhaps be currants.
‘I must make a list of tools,’ she said to herself. ‘And plants, and seeds. This is warm land that will bring the crops early! Only let us get through the winter, and we shall be prosperous here.’
She took the spade again
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