A Crooked Rib Read Online Free PDF Page A

distinct meow.
    ‘She is calling her cat,’ I whispered. ‘It must be lost.’
    Ellen shook her head.
    The woman shuffled forward into the little courtyard. She was a bulky old dame, her clothes torn and tattered, her feet falling out ofbroken, scuffed slippers which flapped as she walked.
    ‘Watch ye,’ warned Ellen.
    Motioning me to stay where I was, she left our hiding place and crept up behind the old woman. ‘Good day to thee, Mither,’ she bellowed suddenly.
    The old woman swung around. I expected her to aim a blow at Ellen but, instead, she stared blankly at her and meowed.
    ‘Aye, be misty today,’ said Ellen, as if the dame had answered her.
    ‘Meow.’
    ‘Think thee it will mebbee rain?’
    ‘Meow, meow, meow.’
    As she crossed the yard, she arched her back, hissed at Ellen and meowed again. It was clear that she could not or did not speak. Then, from a doorway, a little girl appeared. Catching the dame’s hand, she pulled her inside, still meowing furiously.
    ‘Ye sees why them calls her they Cat Woman.’
    ‘But why is she like that?’
    ‘Folks round these parts says it begun on they day them hanged her son.’

AUCKLAND, 1846
    The Governor having returned from business in the North the evening before, we had retired to bed later than usual. Early in the morning, I awoke with a start to the sound of continuous low moaning, followed by a series of wails. Somewhere in the house, women were sobbing, and I thought I distinguished Lucy’s voice. I dressed quickly and ran to her room. It was empty. Following the sound, I made my way to the drawing room and peered around the half-open door.
     
    Surrounded by a group of Maoris, all of whom were weeping, Lucy and the Governor stood in silent misery as the natives with increasing tremors of their heads and hands began to lament and cry ever more loudly until they were all howling in the most desolate manner imaginable, tears pouring down their tattooed faces. Even Lucy and her husband had tears in their eyes.
    I stood transfixed, imagining what disaster must have brought them to this state. My heart began to pound. Had they news that we were about to be attacked — perhaps eaten alive?
    Then, to my amazement, they all suddenly dried their tears and, smiling, pressed noses, in turn, with the Governor and Lucy who also shed their expressions of misery and returned the joyful greetings of their visitors.
    ‘Ah, Fanny,’ said Lucy, catching sight of me, ‘come and be introduced to the Arawa chiefs. They’ve come all the way from Rotorua. It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen them.’
    ‘But why was everyone weeping so piteously? I thought that some terrible slaughter must have occurred …’
    Lucy shook her head. ‘No, no. That is the Maori custom. Whenevera native has been away for a long period, on his return, all his tribe gathers round him and laments just as you saw. It’s to show the depth of their suffering at being deprived of his company. Then, when that formality is over, they’re free to express their feelings of joy at having him back among them again.’
    ‘But you and the Governor are not from the Arawa tribe. Nor any other …’
    ‘It’s a mark of respect to my husband. And because I’m his wife, they include me in such ceremonial government occasions.’ She lowered her voice, ‘So you see why he requires a wife. To help him carry out his official duties.’
     
    ‘Ah, Miss Fanny,’ said the Governor, stepping out onto the veranda where I was reading. ‘I’m pleased to see you’re making use of my library.’
    ‘I’m grateful to have access to such an extensive collection of books.’
    ‘I wonder if I might have a word with you in confidence?’
    ‘Certainly.’ I rose and accompanied him into his study.
    He motioned me to be seated.
    ‘I hope I am not speaking out of turn but … you may have noticed that my wife … your sister … doesn’t enjoy the best of health here. Since our arrival, she has had a