Isle of Tears Read Free Page A

troops of the British army failed to stop the Maori, who would rescue the settlers? Who would stop their homes from being torched and their stock being stolen? Most importantly, who would save them from certain, terrible death at the hands of the bloodthirsty natives?
    Niel himself was frightened of the Maori, with their fierce dark faces and strange language, but his father had said many times that Braeburn, which wasn’t part of the Peka Peka Block, had been bought fair and square and therefore wasn’t subject to dispute. This hadn’t eased Niel’s fears at all, but if his father thought he was up to confronting trespassers on McKinnon land, even disgruntled Maori ones, then he would.
    ‘Can I take the rifle?’ he asked.
    ‘Aye. But be verra careful wi’ it.’
    ‘Aye, I will.’ Pretending nonchalance, Niel nevertheless experienced an uncomfortable flutter of nerves in his belly at the responsibility of it all.
    After dinner, Isla and Jean cleared the table, then Agnes took the washing basin down from a shelf and followed the children outside.
    At the pump in the yard, she said, ‘Now, be careful, aye? If ye see anyone—anyone at all—you’re tae run back tae the hoose as fast as ye can. And Rosie will just have tae make her own way home.’
    Their anticipation of an adventure tempered by the obvious concern in their mother’s voice, the children all nodded gravely.
    Donal came out then, his rifled musket balanced easily in his hand. It was an Enfield, a military weapon only a few years old and purchased from a shady character in the Red House Hotel in New Plymouth. He passed it, along with a pouch containing the paper cartridges, to Niel. ‘It’s no’ loaded, so if ye hear anything, dinnae forget.’
    Niel took the rifle and set the butt on the ground, the end of the barrel reaching his shoulder. Donal suppressed a smile at the look of pride his son couldn’t quite keep off his face.
    ‘Be canny, now,’ he warned as his children turned to go.
    Followed by a bounding and excited Laddie, Isla led the way until she reached the trees at the base of the big hill that rose behind the house. There, she turned and lifted her hand to herparents, who were standing very still by the pump, her father’s hand resting companionably on her mother’s shoulder. They looked as though they were posing for the man who operated the photographic parlour in New Plymouth.
    ‘Look oot for them, Isla!’ her father called.
    ‘I’m tired,’ Jean whined to Niel. ‘Will ye carry me?’
    ‘No, we’re no’ even halfway up yet.’
    ‘But I’m tired!’
    ‘Well, ye shouldnae have come, then!’
    Isla moved up beside Jean and took her hand. ‘Shall I pull ye?’
    Grumpily, Jean acquiesced and allowed Isla to drag her up through the ferns and scrub covering the hill.
    ‘Rosie!’ Jamie shouted yet again, his voice cracking with the effort. ‘Where in hell is she?’
    Jean’s eyes widened. ‘Ooh, I’m tellin’ Mam ye said that.’
    Jamie ignored her because his da said it all the time and no one told him off, and went on looking behind slender tree trunks and low bushes, as though fat, lumbering Rosie could somehow have concealed herself behind them.
    It was cool in the shade of the taller ferns and trees, and Isla enjoyed the feeling of warmth on her head and arms whenever she emerged into the sunlight. She was puffing gently, and a lone bead of sweat trickled down her scalp through her hair. The dull, tugging sensation in her belly had subsided slightly duringdinner, but now that she was exerting herself it had started again. Stopping for a moment, she glanced over her shoulder, but they weren’t high enough yet to afford a view of their house down on the flat. She loved seeing it from here—it looked so like a little doll’s house that she always wanted to laugh. The hill wasn’t high enough for them to see the sea, but she always knew it was there, beyond the horizon; she could feel it.
    ‘Well, she wis here