A little affair of "flotsam and jetsam." -- Rebellion crushed in
the bud. -- A Pakeha's house sacked. -- Maori law. -- A Maori
lawsuit. -- Affair thrown into Chancery.
Pakehas, though precious in the good old times, would sometimes get
into awkward scrapes. Accidents, I have observed, will happen at the
best of times. Some time after the matters I have been recounting
happened, two of the pakehas who were "knocking about" Mr. ----'s
premises, went fishing. One of them was a very respectable old
man-of-war's man; the other was the connoisseur of heads, who, I may
as well mention, was thought to be one of that class who never could
remember to a nicety how they had come into the country, or where they
came from. It so happened that on their return, the little boat, not
being well fastened, went adrift in the night, and was cast on shore
at about four miles distance, in the dominions of a petty chief who
was a sort of vassal or retainer of ours. He did not belong to the
tribe, and lived on the land by the permission of our chief as a sort
of tenant at will. Of late an ill-feeling had grown up between him and
the principal chief. The vassal had in fact begun to show some airs of
independence, and had collected more men about him than our chief
cared to see; but up to this time there had been no regular outbreak
between them, possibly because the vassal had not yet sufficient force
to declare independence formally. Our chief was however watching for
an excuse to fall out with him before he should grow too strong. As
soon as it was heard where the boat was, the two men went for it as a
matter of course, little thinking that this encroaching vassal would
have the insolence to claim the right of "flotsam and jetsam," which
belonged to the principal chief, and which was always waived in favour
of his pakehas. On arrival, however, at this rebellious chief's
dominions, they were informed that it was his intention to stick to
the boat until he was paid a "stocking of gunpowder"--meaning a
quantity as much as a stocking would hold, which was the regular
standard measure in those days in that locality. A stocking of
gunpowder! who ever heard of such an awful imposition? The demand was
enormous in value and rebellious in principle. The thing must be put
an end to at once. The principal chief did not hesitate: rebellion
must be crushed in the bud. He at once mustered his whole force (he
did not approve of "little wars,") and sent them off under the command
of the Relation Eater, who served an ejectment in regular Maori form,
by first plundering the village and then burning it to ashes; also
destroying the cultivation and provisions, and forcing the vassal to
decamp with all his people on pain of instant massacre--a thing they
did not lose a moment in doing, and I don't think they either eat or
slept till they had got fifty miles off, where a tribe related to them
received them and gave them a welcome.
Well, about three months after this, about daylight in the morning, I
was aroused by a great uproar of men shouting, doors smashing, and
women screaming. Up I jumped, and pulled on a few clothes in less
time, I am sure, than ever I had done before in my life; out I ran,
and at once perceived that Mr. ----'s premises were being sacked by
the rebellious vassal, who had returned with about fifty men, and was
taking this means of revenging himself for the rough handling he had
received from our chief. Men were rushing in mad haste through the
smashed windows and doors, loaded with anything and everything they
could lay hands on. The chief was stamping against the door of a room
in which he was aware the most valuable goods were kept, and shouting
for help to break it open. A large canoe was floating close to the
house, and was being rapidly filled with plunder. I saw a fat old
Maori woman, who was washerwoman to the establishment, being dragged
along the ground by a huge fellow, who was trying to tear from her
grasp one of my shirts, to which she clung with perfect desperation. I
perceived at a glance that the faithful old creature would probably
save a sleeve. A long line of similar articles, my property, which
had graced the _taiepa_ fence the night before, had disappeared. The
old man-of-war's man had placed his back exactly opposite to that part
of the said fence where hung a certain striped cotton shirt and well
scrubbed canvas trowsers, which _could_ belong to no one but himself.
He was "hitting out" lustily right and left. Mr. ---- had been absent
some days on a journey, and the head merchant, as we found after all
was over, was hiding under a bed. When the old sailor saw me, he "sang
out," in a voice clear as a bell, and calculated to be distinctly
heard above the din:--"Hit out, sir, if you please; let's make a fight
of it the best we can; our mob will be here in five minutes; Tahuna
has run to fetch them." While he thus gave both advice and
information, he also set a good example, having delivered just one
thump per word or thereabouts. The odds were terrible, but the time
was short that I was required to fight; so I at once floored a native
who was rushing by me. He fell like a man shot, and I then perceived
he was one of our own people who had been employed about the place;
so, to balance things, I knocked down another, and then felt myself
seized round the waist from behind, by a fellow who seemed to be about
as strong as a horse. At this moment I cast an anxious glance around
the field of battle. The old Maori woman had, as I expected, saved a
good half of my shirt; she had got on the top of an outhouse, and was
waving it in a "Sister Anne" sort of manner, and calling to an
imaginary friendly host, which she pretended to see advancing to the
rescue. The old sailor had fallen under, but not surrendered to,
superior force. Three natives had got him down; but it took all they
could do to _keep_ him down: he was evidently carrying out his
original idea of making a fight of it, and gaining time;--the striped
shirt and canvas trowsers still hung proudly on the fence. None of his
assailants could spare a second to pull them down. I was kicking and
flinging in the endeavour to extricate myself; or, at least to turn
round, so as to carry out a "face to face" policy, which it would be a
grand mistake to suppose was not understood long ago in the good old
times. I had nearly succeeded, and was thinking what particular form
of destruction I should shower on the foe, when a tremendous shout was
heard. It was "our mob" coming to the rescue; and, like heroes of old,
"sending their voice before them." In an instant both myself and the
gallant old tar were released; the enemy dashed on board their canoe,
and in another moment were off, darting away before a gale of wind and
a fair tide at a rate that put half a mile at least between them and
us before our protectors came up. "Load the gun!" cried the
sailor--(there was a nine-pound carronade on the cliff before the
house, overlooking the river). A cartridge was soon found, and a shot,
and the gun loaded. "Slue her a little," cried my now commander;
"fetch a fire stick." "Aye, aye, sir" (from self). "Wait a little;
that will do--Fire!"--(in a voice as if ordering the discharge of the
whole broadside of a three-decker). Bang! The elevation was perfectly
correct. The shot struck the water at exactly the right distance, and
only a few feet to one side. A very few feet more to the right and the
shot would have entered the stern of the canoe, and, as she was end on
to us, would have killed half the people in her. A miss, however, is
as good as a mile off. The canoe disappeared behind a point, and there
we were with an army of armed friends around us, who, by making great
expedition, had managed to come exactly in time to be too late.
This was a _taua muru_ (a robbing expedition) in revenge for the
leader having been cleaned out by our chief, which gave them the right
to rob any one connected with, related to, or under the protection of,
our chief aforesaid, provided always that they were able. We, on the
other hand, had the clear right to kill any of the robbers, which
would then have given them the right to kill us; but until we killed
some of them, it would not have been "correct" for them to have taken
life, so they managed the thing neatly, so that they should have no
occasion to do so. The whole proceeding was unobjectionable in every
respect, and _tika_ (correct). Had we put in our nine-pound shot at
the stern of their canoe, it would have been correct also, but as we
were not able, we had no right whatever to complain.
The above is good law, and here I may as well inform the New Zealand
public that I am going to write the whole law of this land in a book,
which I shall call "_Ko nga ture_;" and as I intend it for the good of
both races, I shall mix the two languages up in such a way that
neither can understand; but this does not matter, as I shall add a
"glossary," in Coptic, to make things clear.
Some time after this, a little incident happened at my friend Mr.
----'s place worth noting. Our chief had, for some time back, a sort
of dispute with another magnate, who lived about ten miles off. I
really cannot say who was in the right--the arguments on both sides
were so nearly balanced, that I should not like to commit myself to a
judgment in the case. The question was at last brought to a fair
hearing at my friend's house. The arguments on both sides were very
forcible, so much so that in the course of the arbitration our chief
and thirty of his principal witnesses were shot dead in a heap before
my friend's door, and sixty others badly wounded, and my friend's
house and store blown up and burnt to ashes. My friend was all but, or
indeed, quite ruined, but it would not have been "correct" for him to
complain--_his_ loss in goods being far overbalanced by the loss of
the tribe in men. He was, however, consoled by hundreds of friends who
came in large parties to condole and _tangi_ with him, and who, as was
quite correct in such cases, shot and eat all his stock, sheep, pigs,
goats, ducks, geese, fowls, &c., all in high compliment to himself, at
which he felt proud, as a well conducted and conditioned pakeha Maori
(as he was) should do. He did not, however, survive these honours
long, poor fellow. He died, and strange to say, no one knew exactly
what was the matter with him--some said it was the climate, they
thought.
After this the land about which this little misunderstanding had
arisen, was, so to speak, thrown into chancery, where it has now
remained about forty years; but I hear that proceedings are to
commence _de novo_ (no allusion to the "new system") next summer, or
at farthest the summer after; and as I witnessed the first
proceedings, when the case comes on again "may I be there to see."