The Local Tapu.--The Taniwha.--The Battle on Motiti.--The Death
of Tiki Whenua.--Reflections.--Brutus, Marcus Antonius, and Tiki
Whenua.--Suicide.
A story-teller, like a poet or a pugilist, must be _born_, and not
_made_, and I begin to fancy I have not been born under a story-telling
planet, for by no effort that I can make can I hold on to the thread of
my story, and I am conscious the whole affair is fast becoming one
great parenthesis. If I could only get clear of this _tapu_ I would
"try back." I believe I ought to be just now completing the purchase of
my estate. I am sure I have been keeping house a long time before it is
built, which is I believe clear against the rules; so I must get rid of
this talk about the _tapu_ the best way I can, after which I will start
fair and try not to get before my story.
Besides these different forms of the _tapu_ which I have mentioned,
there were endless others; but the temporary local _tapus_ were the
most tormenting to a pakeha: as well they might, seeing that even a
native could not steer clear of them always. A place not _tapu_
yesterday might be most horribly _tapu_ to-day, and the consequences of
trespassing thereon proportionately troublesome.
Thus, sailing along a coast or a river bank, the most inviting
landing-place would be almost to a certainty the freehold property of
the Taniwha, a terrific sea monster, who would to a certainty, if his
landed property was trespassed on, upset the canoe of the trespassers
and devour them all the very next time they put to sea. The place was
_tapu_, and let the weather be as bad as it might, it was better to
keep to sea at all risks than to land there. Even pakeha, though in
some cases invulnerable, could not escape the fangs of the terrible
Taniwha. "Was not little Jackey-_poto_, the sailor, drowned by the
Taniwha? He _would_ go on shore, in spite of every warning, to get some
water to mix with his _waipiro_; and was not his canoe found next day
floating about with his paddle and two empty case-bottles in it?--a
sure sign that the Taniwha had lifted him out bodily. And was not the
body of the said Jackey found some days after with the Taniwha's mark
on it,--one eye taken out?"
These Taniwha would, however, sometimes attach themselves to a chief or
warrior, and in the shape of a huge sea monster, a bird, or a fish,
gambol round his canoe, and by their motions give presage of good or
evil fortune.
When the Ngati Kuri sailed on their last and fated expedition to the
south, a huge Taniwha attached to the famous warrior, Tiki Whenua,
accompanied the expedition, playing about continually amongst the
canoes; often coming close to the canoe of Tiki Whenua, so that the
warrior could reach to pat him approvingly with his paddle, at which he
seemed much pleased; and when they came in sight of the island of
Tuhua, this Taniwha chief called up the legions of the deep! The sea
was blackened by an army of monsters, who, with uncouth and awful
floundering and wallowing, performed before the chief and his
companions a hideous _tu ngarahu_, and then disappeared. The Ngati
Kuri, elated, and accepting this as a presage of victory, landed on
Tuhua, stormed the pa, and massacred its defenders.
But they had mistaken the meaning of the monster review of the Taniwha.
It was a leave-taking of his favourite warrior; for the Ngati Kuri were
fated to die to a man on the next land they trod. A hundred and fifty
men were they--the pick and prime of their tribe. All _rangatira_, all
warriors of name, few in number, but desperately resolute, they thought
it little to defeat the thousands of the south, and take the women and
children as a prey! Having feasted and rejoiced at Tuhua, they sail for
Motiti. This world was too small for them. They were impatient for
battle. They thought to make the name of Kuri strike against the skies;
but in the morning the sea is covered with war canoes. The thousands of
the south are upon them! Ngati Awa, with many an allied band, mad for
revenge, come on. Fight now, O Ngati Kuri!--not for _victory_, no, nor
for _life_. Think only now of _utu_!--for your time is come. That which
you have dealt to many, you shall now receive. Fight!--fight! Your
tribe shall be exterminated, but you must leave a name! Now came the
tug of war on "bare Motiti." From early morning till the sun had well
declined, that ruthless battle raged. Twice their own number had the
Ngati Kuri slain; and then Tiki Whenua, still living, saw around him
his dead and dying tribe. A handful of bleeding warriors still
resisted--a last and momentary struggle. He thought of the _utu_; it
was great. He thought of the ruined remnant of the tribe at home, and
then he remembered--horrid thought--that ere next day's setting sun, he
and all the warriors of his tribe would be baked and eaten. (Tiki, my
friend, thou art in trouble.) A cannon was close at hand--a nine-pound
carronade. They had brought it in the canoes. Hurriedly he filled it
half full of powder, seized a long firebrand, placed his breast to the
cannon's mouth, and fired it with his own hand. Tiki Whenua,
good-night!
Now I wonder if Brutus had had such a thing as a nine-pounder about him
at Philippi, whether he would have thought of using it in this way. I
really don't think he would. I have never looked upon Brutus as
anything of an original genius; but Tiki Whenua most certainly was. I
don't think there is another instance of a man blowing himself from a
gun. Of course there are many examples of people blowing others from
cannon; but that is quite a different thing; any blockhead can do that.
But the _exit_ of Tiki Whenua has a smack of originality about it which
I like, and so I have mentioned it here.
But all this is digression on digression: however, I suppose the reader
is getting used to it, and I cannot help it. Besides, I wanted to show
them how poor Tiki "took arms against a sea of troubles," and for the
want of a "bare bodkin" made shift with a carronade. I shall never
cease to lament those nice lads who met with that little accident (poor
fellows!) on Motiti. A fine, strapping, stalwart set of fellows, who
believed in force. We don't see many such men now-a-days. The present
generation of Maori are a stunted, tobacco-smoking, grog-drinking,
psalm-singing, special-pleading, shilling-hunting set of wretches: not
above one in a dozen of them would know how to cut up a man _secundum
artem_. 'Pshaw! I am ashamed of them.
I am getting tired of this _tapu_, so will give only one or two more
instances of the local temporary _tapu_. In the autumn, when the great
crop of _kumera_ was gathered, all the paths leading to the village and
cultivated lands were made _tapu_, and any one coming along them would
have notice of this by finding a rope stretched across the road about
breast-high; when he saw this, his business must be very urgent indeed
or he would go back: indeed, it would have been taken as a very serious
affront, even in a near relation, supposing his ordinary residence was
not in the village, to disregard the hint given by the rope,--that for
the present there was "no thoroughfare."
Now, the reason of this blockade of the roads was this. The report of
an unusually fine crop of _kumera_ had often cost its cultivators and
the whole tribe their lives. The news would spread about that Ngati
so-and-so, living at so-and-so, had housed so many thousands of baskets
of _kumera_. Exaggeration would multiply the truth by ten, the fertile
land would be coveted, and very probably its owners, or rather its
_holders_, would have to fight both for it and for their lives before
the year was out. For this reason strangers were not welcome at the
Maori harvest home. The _kumera_ were dug hurriedly by the whole
strength of the working hands, thrown in scattered heaps, and concealed
from the casual observation of strangers by being covered over with the
leaves of the plants: when all were dug, then all hands set to work, at
night, to fill the baskets and carry off the crop to the storehouse or
_rua_; and every effort was made to get all stored and out of sight
before daylight, lest any one should be able to form any idea of the
extent of the crop. When the digging of one field was completed another
would be done in the same manner, and so on till the whole crop was
housed in this stealthy manner. I have been at several of these
midnight labours, and have admired the immense amount of work one
family would do in a single night; working as it were for life and
death. In consequence of this mode of proceeding, even the families
inhabiting the same village did not know what sort of a crop their
neighbours had, and if a question was asked (to do which was thought
impertinent and very improper), the invariable answer was "Nothing at
all; barely got back the seed: hardly that; we shall be starved; we
shall have to eat fern root this year," &c. The last time I observed
this custom was about twenty-seven years ago, and even then it was
nearly discontinued and no longer general.
Talking of bygone habits and customs of the natives, I remember I have
mentioned two cases of suicide. I shall, therefore, now take occasion
to state that no more marked alteration in the habits of the natives
has taken place than in the great decrease of cases of suicide. In the
first years of my residence in the country, it was of almost daily
occurrence. When a man died, it was almost a matter of course that his
wife, or wives, hung themselves. When the wife died, the man very
commonly shot himself. I have known young men, often on the most
trifling affront or vexation, shoot themselves; and I was acquainted
with a man who, having been for two days plagued with the toothache,
cut his throat with a very blunt razor, without a handle: which
certainly was a radical cure. I do not believe that one case of suicide
occurs now, for twenty when I first came into the country. Indeed, the
last case I have heard of in a populous district, occurred several
years ago. It was rather a remarkable one. A native owed another a few
shillings; the creditor kept continually asking for it; but the debtor,
somehow or other, never could raise the cash. At last being out of
patience, and not knowing anything of the Insolvent Court, he loaded
his gun, went to the creditor's house, and called him out. Out came the
creditor and his wife. The debtor then placed the gun to his own
breast, and saying, "Here is your payment," pulled the trigger with his
foot, and fell dead before them. I think the reason suicide has become
so comparatively unfrequent is, that the minds of the natives are now
filled and agitated by a flood of new ideas, new wants and ambitions,
which they knew not formerly, and which prevents them, from one single
loss or disappointment, feeling as if there was nothing more to live
for.