Читать книгу The Dark River онлайн

92 страница из 94

"Come round to the back," she said. "I want to leave my fish in the kitchen."

"That's what George and I did the other day," said Hardie. "There was no one here when we first came."

"And you hurried away before anyone did come," Naia added. "And then George went, as soon as he could, before I had a chance to see him."

"It did look as though we were in a great hurry," Hardie replied. "But we didn't mean to be."

A stalwart, middle-aged woman met them at the door of the kitchen. Naia spoke to her in the native tongue, while the woman regarded Hardie with friendly interest. "This is Teina," Naia said. "She lives two miles up the valley. She remembers George very well. He used to play with her children." Hardie took her hand with a word of greeting. "Now we will go to see Raitua, my grandfather," the girl added. "He has his own house across the point. I stay with him when my mother is away."

A lone tamanu tree, gnarled by exposure to the gales of a century or more, shaded the old man's cottage. Hardie was struck by the contrast between this dwelling and Mauri's, but he remembered that the other had been built by Naia's white father. Both suited the landscape, but the grandfather's house was as native to it as the old tree that threw its dappled shade over the low thatched roof. A fishing net was hung up to dry on the beach; a canoe, beautifully made, was drawn up there, and on trestles by the canoe shed lay the trunk of a tree partly adzed out, with fragrant chips scattered thickly beneath the beginning of another. They found Raitua seated on the sand between two mighty roots of the tamanu, with his back to a comfortable depression in the trunk. He smiled at sight of them, rising slowly to take Hardie's hand, while Naia spoke rapidly to him in the island tongue. His benevolent glance appraised the Englishman's features, his stature, and the breadth of his shoulders, while Naia made her explanations. Then he spoke in his turn.