NZ 2 - Tale of the Totara Twins (Edited)

NZ 2 - Legend of the Totara Twins (Edited)

While sitting over tea on a rainy Tuesday evening in Roebuck hut, the fire place crackling away of dried beech limbs, an old tramper told me a tale that I thought my Yamabushi bretherin would enjoy. It was a tale told to him by his father while at Aspiring Hut deep in the Southern Alps.

Coming in from a stormy day about Mt Cook, a lone tramper looking to get warm came to a hut put up by the Mountain Guides that had closed up for the season. He found that the door was unlocked, as was the custom in the Huts of New Zealand. Opening the door he found that the fire had already been going and the warmth had brought him relief. Figuring that the other soul had popped out to find the Lue, even as the winds blasted down the ridgelines to a frightful roar. He believed that they would be around shortly. 

Taking off his soaken clothing and hanging it on to the line, right down to his scivys, figureing a bloke would make no mind, he hovered around the woodstove warming his frigid bones. 

As the night got on, and still no sign of the hut's taker, he began a stew of mtn golosch and tea, making sure to leave enough for his mate should he be getting on. The wind was frightful, battering the old cabin with tossing blows. Each time the wind seem to knock at the door, the weary traveller, kept looking out to see if a man staggered toward the cabin. With ice about the rocks and a full squall tearing from the sky, he did not dare to venture out. But a peek to find the good hearted friend who had lit the fire.

Hours went by, and soon the traveller fell into a lucid state of sleep, catching only moments of wakeful gaze toward the hut door. He half expected it to breech open, with then grizzed figure of a mountain man frozen clean through the bone. Somewhere he dirfted off to the sound of the warm crackle of the belly pot wood stove.

Like a song of a woman, half in a daze he awoke to the haunting sound. Looking around he throught it would be half mad to believe, such as the storm bellowed outside... Again, this time accompinied by another in harmony coming like sweet song just outside the door... It had been a long time since he had heard those sounds, as most of the mining camps were all men those days. And since he had left England had he heard such fair sounds, but two... Must be the wind about the cables singing those emchanting high notes.

In the stillness between gusts, their song came again. So beautiful, he could hardly believe that he was still awake. But the sights and smell of the hut reminded him that indeed he was. So he figured he would take but a peep outside, just to check his curiousity... It would not hurt... Since he arrived at the cabin to a fire... Maybe it was true... Maybe the souls were calling out for help.

Reaching for the door, the nobb felt cold, and hinges squelled against the weight of each blast. How could two women ever be outside in this toss... He almost felt ashamed to look, never giving in before to such lapse in reason. But curiousity, like a fickled kid inside pulled him to open that hut door...

Raising his head to looks out, he saw a sight he would nearly had believe. But two beautiful women, of strong beauty, standing toward the tracks edge with brown flowing hair and a knee length red dress, leather mountain boots to hilt. Their hair weaving with each blow, and their eyes looking deeply out towards his.

He felt beside himself, Stunned at the sight. Had no other dream then but what he saw before him been as lovely. Yet it made no sense to him. He hauler'd out to them to come into the hut with the warm fire and get out of the cold. Yet they seem to just walk slowly backwards down the trail. Gazing out towards him singing thier haunting song.

Frustrated, he motioned again, telling them of the hot tea and warm fire. But still they only stood just before the end of the track, waving him forward. Each howl of the wind seemed to get stronger, and he knew he could not hold the door much longer, but did not wish to see them go.

Somehow he stepped out the door to reach for them to pull one in. Streching his harm while bracing against each gust, he leaned a little further. Soon only his leg holdin the door open.

As he looked up to see where they were, one of the twins in her flowing knew high red dress was before him, her brown hair whirling about his head as he was  but face to face. Her hands reaching out to him and her lips and words luring him in a language of orgins unknown. With a daze of sight only know by men long left without the pleasue of a womans touch, he reached out to grab her about the waist, hoping to bring her in... 

With such close grap his leg left the brace of the door, the man caught in the spell took a step out into the cold. From inside the cabin, the door slammed shut, leaving the scene of the warm crackiling fire and steaming tea kettle upon the silence. Time flowed from that moment, before the muffled gust of the wind on the cabin walls began to flow again...

It lasted for a few minutes... Till there came a rapping in the hut door. The turning of the cold nob and sqweel of the hinges against the force of the wind, seen a haggered man slip through with a sudden sight.

Looking up, this time, a weary traveller wondering what good souls had left a lit fire for him this long tiring night... He had been many hours from the base camp Seeing a pack and tea, he figured the other would be along soon, so rising to his feet began to make himself at home in this mountain pass hut deep within the Southern Alps Range...

As the rain and wind howled outside our hut, and the fire crackled as a few more branches where added to stoke the coals, I looked out the small window into a sea of clouds. A faint high note could be heard into the night... And once, just once did I believe that I saw a flash of a woman in a red dress just beyond the tracks edge. But that is just the wishful thoughts of a man deep in his mountains lured on by the spell of lucid dreams...