A Canoe In the Mist by Elsie Locke Read Free Book Online Page B

It went another way, that’s all.’
    The stove crackled in the silence. All three grown-upswere looking at her strangely. ‘Why, what’s up?’ said Lillian.
    ‘Tell us what it looked like,’ said Mrs Humphreys.
    ‘A big canoe with carvings back and front and a lot of men in it. Guide Sophia called it a waka wairua.’
    ‘You didn’t mention this last night,’ said Mrs Perham.
    ‘Oh Mumma, there was so much to tell! What’s all this about?’
    Mrs Perham looked at Mr Humphreys, who said very seriously: ‘Lillian, Mr McRae says there’s no carved canoe on the lake. A waka wairua means a ghost canoe.’ He paused, looking intently at Lillian’s startled face, but she was too surprised to say anything; so he went on. ‘We all know that ghosts aren’t real, so what you saw was something that looked like a canoe. Mr McRae says it was a trick of the mist.’
    ‘It wasn’t in the mist,’ Lillian objected. ‘It came out of the mist. It came as close as anything, and Dr Ralph called out, and Mr Fazackerley whistled.’
    ‘Did they answer?’
    ‘No, they didn’t.’
    ‘It could have been an ordinary canoe loaded with flax or firewood. It could have been further off than you thought. It’s hard to judge distances over water. I’m not saying you’re fibbing, Lillian. You must have seen something that looked real to you—but it couldn’t have been a carved canoe like the old times. The thing is, wedon’t want people getting worked up about ghosts and spirits.’
    ‘If anyone asks you, tell them it was only the mist,’ said Mrs Perham. ‘Don’t you go feeding any rumours. Mind now! I mean it.’
    ‘Yes, Mumma,’ said Lillian. ‘What should I say to Mattie?’
    ‘Oh goodness, look at the clock, there’ll hardly be time.’ Mrs Perham reached for the pot to dish out Lillian’s porridge. ‘All this talk, you’ll be late.’
    ‘We’ll let Mattie know you’ll be over later,’ said Mrs Humphreys.
    Lillian was glad she was getting to school late. She would rather have Mr Haszard punishing her than children questioning her on the way. How could she keep up a lie all day long? But she had to, they had ordered her. Maybe she could manage not to talk to anybody until after school, when there’d be Mattie! And Mattie knew .
    Four-year-old Mona Haszard was balancing on the picket fence, as usual, to watch the children. It was her daily entertainment. ‘You didn’t come yesterday and today you’re late,’ she said. Pert little Mona missed nothing, but Lillian didn’t stop to explain.
    The one big schoolroom was attached to the Haszards’ house. All the Haszards were part of the school. Twenty-two-year-old Clara was on the payroll as sewing teacher, but she really helped with the lessons, while her motherand Ina, who was fifteen, taught the sewing and knitting without pay.
    This morning Lillian was in trouble not only for lateness, but for inattention. But how could she concentrate on sums when her head was full of fairy staircases and carved canoes? Besides, an unusual muttering filled the room. At playtime it swelled to a bubble and a hiss like a human imitation of a thermal spring, but all in Maori. Lillian didn’t go outside. She stayed in the classroom reading a book, and got away promptly at lunch-time, running fast all the way home. And she managed to get back just as the bell was ringing, having talked with no one.
    But by now Mr Haszard, who spoke Maori, had caught up with the mutterings.
    ‘Kira, stand out in front, please,’ he commanded. ‘I want you to tell the school what your father saw yesterday when he was rowing the tourist boat.’
    Eight-year-old Kira, shy at being singled out, put up with various pokes and jokes as he pushed his way up the aisle, and shuffled nervously from one foot to the other.
    ‘Speak up, Kira,’ said Mr Haszard kindly. ‘Tell us what he saw.’
    ‘They saw that canoe on the lake,’ said Kira. ‘That ghost canoe. It go to the tapu mountain. That means