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head； and I could not banish them。
CHAPTER II： IN THE WOOL…SHED
At last shearing came； and with the shearers there was an old
native； whom they had nicknamed Chowbokthough； I believe； his
real name was Kahabuka。 He was a sort of chief of the natives；
could speak a little English； and was a great favourite with the
missionaries。 He did not do any regular work with the shearers；
but pretended to help in the yards； his real aim being to get the
grog； which is always more freely circulated at shearing…time： he
did not get much； for he was apt to be dangerous when drunk； and
very little would make him so： still he did get it occasionally；
and if one wanted to get anything out of him； it was the best bribe
to offer him。 I resolved to question him； and get as much
information from him as I could。 I did so。 As long as I kept to
questions about the nearer ranges； he was easy to get on withhe
had never been there； but there were traditions among his tribe to
the effect that there was no sheep…country； nothing； in fact； but
stunted timber and a few river…bed flats。 It was very difficult to
reach； still there were passes： one of them up our own river；
though not directly along the river…bed； the gorge of which was not
practicable； he had never seen any one who had been there： was
there to not enough on this side？ But when I came to the main
range； his manner changed at once。 He became uneasy； and began to
prevaricate and shuffle。 In a very few minutes I could see that of
this too there existed traditions in his tribe； but no efforts or
coaxing could get a word from him about them。 At last I hinted
about grog； and presently he feigned consent： I gave it him； but
as soon as he had drunk it he began shamming intoxication； and then
went to sleep； or pretended to do so； letting me kick him pretty
hard and never budging。
I was angry； for I had to go without my own grog and had got
nothing out of him； so the next day I determined that he should
tell me before I gave him any； or get none at all。
Accordingly； when night came and the shearers had knocked off work
and had their supper； I got my share of rum in a tin pannikin and
made a sign to Chowbok to follow me to the wool…shed； which he
willingly did； slipping out after me； and no one taking any notice
of either of us。 When we got down to the wool…shed we lit a tallow
candle； and having stuck it in an old bottle we sat down upon the
wool bales and began to smoke。 A wool…shed is a roomy place； built
somewhat on the same plan as a cathedral； with aisles on either
side full of pens for the sheep； a great nave； at the upper end of
which the shearers work； and a further space for wool sorters and
packers。 It always refreshed me with a semblance of antiquity
（precious in a new country）； though I very well knew that the
oldest wool…shed in the settlement was not more than seven years
old； while this was only two。 Chowbok pretended to expect his grog
at once； though we both of us knew very well what the other was
after； and that we were each playing against the other； the one for
grog the other for information。
We had a hard fight： for more than two hours he had tried to put
me off with lies but had carried no conviction； during the whole
time we had been morally wrestling with one another and had neither
of us apparently gained the least advantage； at length； however； I
had become sure that he would give in ultimately； and that with a
little further patience I should get his story out of him。 As upon
a cold day in winter； when one has churned （as I had often had to
do）； and churned in vain； and the butter makes no sign of coming；
at last one tells by the sound that the cream has gone to sleep；
and then upon a sudden the butter comes； so I had churned at
Chowbok until I perceived that he had arrived； as it were； at the
sleepy stage； and that with a continuance of steady quiet pressure
the day was mine。 On a sudden； without a word of warning； he
rolled two bales of wool （his strength was very great） into the
middle of the floor； and on the top of these he placed another
crosswise； he snatched up an empty wool…pack； threw it like a
mantle over his shoulders； jumped upon the uppermost bale； and sat
upon it。 In a moment his whole form was changed。 His high
shoulders dropped； he set his feet close together； heel to heel and
toe to toe； he laid his arms and hands close alongside of his body；
the palms following his thighs； he held his head high but quite
straight； and his eyes stared right in front of him； but he frowned
horribly； and assumed an expression of face that was positively
fiendish。 At the best of times Chowbok was very ugly； but he now
exceeded all conceivable limits of the hideous。 His mouth extended
almost from ear to ear； grinning horribly and showing all his
teeth； his eyes glared； though they remained quite fixed； and his
forehead was contracted with a most malevolent scowl。
I am afraid my description will have conveyed only the ridiculous
side of his appearance； but the ridiculous and the sublime are
near； and the grotesque fiendishness of Chowbok's face approached
this last； if it did not reach it。 I tried to be amused； but I
felt a sort of creeping at the roots of my hair and over my whole
body； as I looked and wondered what he could possibly be intending
to signify。 He continued thus for about a minute； sitting bolt
upright； as stiff as a stone； and making this fearful face。 Then
there came from his lips a low moaning like the wind； rising and
falling by infinitely small gradations till it became almost a
shriek； from which it descended and died away； after that； he
jumped down from the bale and held up the extended fingers of both
his hands； as one who should say 〃Ten；〃 though I did not then
understand him。
For myself I was open…mouthed with astonishment。 Chowbok rolled
the bales rapidly into their place； and stood before me shuddering
as in great fear； horror was written upon his facethis time quite
involuntarilyas though the natural panic of one who had committed
an awful crime against unknown and superhuman agencies。 He nodded
his head and gibbered； and pointed repeatedly to the mountains。 He
would not touch the grog； but； after a few seconds he made a run
through the wool…shed door into the moonlight； nor did he reappear
till next day at dinner…time； when he turned up； looking very
sheepish and abject in his civility towards myself。
Of his meaning I had no conception。 How could I？ All I could feel
sure of was； that he had a meaning which was true and awful to
himself。 It was enough for me that I believed him to have given me
the best he had and all he had。 This kindled my imagination more
than if he had told me intelligible stories by the hour together。
I knew not what the great snowy ranges might conceal； but I could
no longer doubt that it would be something well worth discovering。
I kept aloof from Chowbok for the next few days； and showed no
desire to question him further； when I spoke to him I called him
Kahabuka； which gratified him greatly： he seemed to have become
afraid of me； and acted as one who was in my power。 Having
therefore made up my mind that I would begin exploring as soon as
shearing was over； I thought it would be a good thing to take
Chowbok with me； so I told him that I meant going to the nearer
ranges for a few days' prospecting； and that he was to come too。 I
made him promises of nightly grog； and held out the chances of
finding gold。 I said nothing about the main range； for I knew it
would frighten him。 I would get him as far up our own river as I
could； and trace it if possible to its source。 I would then either
go on by myself； if I felt my courage equal to the attempt； or
return with Chowbok。 So； as soon as ever shearing was over and the
wool sent off； I asked leave of absence； and obtained it。 Also； I
bought an old pack…horse and pack…saddle； so that I might take
plenty of provisions； and blankets； and a small tent。 I was to
ride and find fords over the river； Chowbok was to follow and lead
the pack…horse； which would also carry him over the fords。 My
master let me