The Last Haymaking with Horses

With cool courage, Mary succeeded in reaching the reins, calling to the terrified horses as she guided them up the steep hill that led to the house, rather than taking the sharp bend on the track to the cowshed.

"There's another right-angle bend at the house," she thought, "but perhaps the hill will steady them."

It did. Charlie dropped dead at the top of the hill, and Jock—gallant Jock who had never refused a task offered—died quietly in the paddock that night. Lassie, Esther's wedding present from her father, went peacefully in her sleep not long afterwards.

A new Farmall tractor stood in the "Blacksmith's" shed and a Fordson with big iron wheels made its home where the well-kept harness was still carefully in place by each nameplate.

"What are you going to do about the haymaking?" asked Esther again, and Fred sat up with a start.

"I was thinking about the horses," he confessed. "The government has said that soldiers from Hopuhopu will be available to assist farmers with haymaking."

"Bill says he will come if you need him," said Alexa shyly. "After all, we'll be married next year, and he wants to help."

"We'll cut Westinghouse paddock for hay this year too," said Fred. "I do not think the hill will be too steep to work on, but I am worried about the machinery. It's all built for use with horses and the alignment is all wrong to use with tractors. It is difficult to buy the right equipment while this war is on, but I do not like using gear that might not be safe. We will just have to be very careful."

While Fred took the car to Hopuhopu (the military camp near Ngaruawahia) to collect the two young soldiers who were to help, the rest of the team went down to the hayfield.

"I'll take the rake on the Farmall," suggested Edith, a qualified teacher now home for the holidays. "I've never driven it before, but I guess it's not much harder to drive than a car."

Mary's husband, Alec, showed her where the gears were, and off she went.

"I don't like the noise this thing makes," thought the driver as she went up the rather steep slope in the paddock. Suddenly she realised that the front wheels were lifting off the ground. Quickly she changed into a lower gear and the tractor obediently went back onto its four wheels to finish the journey to where the stack was to be built.

With knees still trembling, she switched off the engine, reflecting that her father had remarked that a rake built to be drawn by horses wasn't really suitable to pull behind a tractor. "But it will have to do till the war is over."