Strange Things

There is a rich history wherever you go - a recent visit to the UK reinforced the fact to me - and just talking today made me remember some things worth recording.

Andy Paterson lived with his wife, at the end of Mile Flat Road - just on the Southeastern boundary of the South Block (previously known as Fraser's.
Andy had a lame leg and he was affectionately known as 'Hoppy' to his friends. Andy was a keen dog trialist [for those who don't know - competitive use of dogs to round up sheep to make them behave appropriately - to go through gaps and into pens. The dogs are worth a lot of money!] He had a cabinet full of trophies including some of his father's who also had the passion.
Andy was also keen on pig hunting and (I thought) put expensive dogs at risk in this pursuit. He had a few mates who joined him from time to time - Jim Jamieson, Shorty Hyland, Bill Pile and Nig Gloag to mention a few. Of course when we took over the Fraser's Block, they were deprived of hunting area - so they just carried on hunting the area - some may say 'poaching'. Not really though, I knew they were doing it and were doing no harm nor annoying anyone.

Actually we all became friends and hunted together - swapping yarns.

Anyway... when Andy built his house, he logged some Rimu trees from his property and had them milled, then used the timber to build his house.
Time went by and poor old Andy died. His house was rented out by a Maori fellow, whose name eludes me. His son thought that his bedroom was haunted! This happening was frequent and sometime the boy received injury. There were several attempts at exorcising the place but this seemed to have no effect. So the family decided to move out.
Now I'm not into the spiritual world but things have happened that made the hair on my neck stand up - so I have an open mind.
However, I read later that those small insects the wood borer when attacking Rimu timber, give off a gas that is hallucinogenic. So could that have happened in this case? I have no idea as I haven't been able to make a followup.

Then there were the brother who went hunting together and stopped in the bush gully below the beehive. Somehow one brother's rifle discharged and his sibling was hit. In panic and without thinking, the first brother fatally shot himself! The real tragedy was that the first shot was a graze to the head and he came to finding his brother done this terrible deed.

Oh the Beehive was a big bluff, yellow in colour that could be seen from the coast. It is now quite overgrown by gorse. When we were roading and carrying out land clearing, we found many artillery shells - with lead shot (shrapnel I guess) and timers. During the war years, the reservists used the bluff for target practice from batteries by the coast. We did find some that had not gone off but on checking we found them to be safe/unarmed.