In the Land of the Long White Cloud

kept their eyes on it. However, neither Gerald nor his grandson had been able or willing to think that far ahead. Instead, they had angered the Maori. Wiramu’s people in the mountains would doubtless overlook any sheep thief, and the work of the patrols would slacken.
    “Tonga’s father says he’s going to claim the new land for himself and his tribe,” Marama explained further. “Wiramu will lead him there. If Mr. Warden had been nice to him, he would have shown it to you instead, and you could have had it surveyed!”
    “We’ll find it anyway,” Paul kept on. “We don’t need to be nice to this or that bastard.”
    Marama shook her head but refrained from pointing out that Wiramu was not a bastard but rather the chief’s esteemed nephew. “Tonga says they’re registering possession of the land in Christchurch,” she continued. “He can read and write as well as you, and Reti will be helping him. It was dumb to let Wiramu go, Paul. It was just dumb!”
    Paul stood up angrily, knocking over the tray holding the silver that Marama had already cleaned. He had clearly done it intentionally since he was not normally clumsy. “You’re just a girl and a Maori. How do you know what’s dumb?”
    Marama laughed and picked the silver up serenely. She did not take offense easily. “You’ll see who gets the land,” she said calmly.
    This conversation confirmed Gwyneira’s fears. Paul was making unnecessary enemies. He had confused strength with harshness—which was perhaps normal at his age—but Gerald should be admonishing him for it, not encouraging him. How could he let a boy who had just turned twelve decide whether to let a worker go or not?

    Fleurette resumed her old life, even paying frequent visits to Helen on O’Keefe Station—only, of course, when Gerald and Paul were definitely elsewhere and she was certain that Howard wouldn’t make a sudden appearance. Gwyneira thought that was careless and, having sent Nepumuk back to Helen, preferred that the women meet in Haldon.
    Fleurette continued to write long letters to Queenstown but received no answer. Nor had Helen, who also worried a great deal about Ruben.
    “If only he had gone to Dunedin,” she sighed. A tearoom had recently opened in Haldon where respectable women could sit and exchange their news. “He could have taken on a job as an office assistant. But panning for gold…”
    Gwyneira shrugged. “He wants to get rich. And maybe he’ll strike it lucky; the gold deposits there are supposed to be enormous.”
    Helen rolled her eyes. “Gwyn, I love my son more than anything. But the gold would have to grow on trees and fall on his head for him to find it. He takes after my father, who was only happy when he could sit in his study and lose himself in his ancient Hebrew texts. I think he would make a good attorney or judge, possibly even a businessman. George said he got along well with the clients; he can be charming. But diverting streams to pan gold out of them or digging tunnels or whatever it is they do there, that’s not for him.”
    “He’ll do it for me,” Fleur said with a wistful expression on her face. “He’ll do anything for me. At least he’ll try!”

    For the time being, the talk in Haldon concerned itself less with Ruben O’Keefe’s quest for gold and more with James McKenzie’s increasingly audacious livestock thefts. At the moment, a major sheep breeder by the name of John Sideblossom was suffering a great deal from McKenzie’s forays.
    John Sideblossom lived on the western shore of Lake Pukaki, high in the mountains. He rarely came to Haldon and practically never to Christchurch, but he held giant tracts of land in the foothills. He sold his livestock in Dunedin, so he was not among George Greenwood’s clients.
    Gerald seemed to know him, however. In fact, he was giddy as a schoolboy when he received the news one day that Sideblossom wanted to meet with like-minded livestock breeders in Haldon to plan another punitive expedition into the mountains against James McKenzie.
    “He is convinced McKenzie is hiding out in his area,” Gerald explained as he drank his obligatory whiskey before dinner. “Somewhere above the lakes there. He must have discovered new land. John writes that he must be disappearing through some pass we don’t know about. And he’s suggesting search actions that cover wide areas. We need to combine our manpower and smoke the fellow out once and for all.”
    “Does this