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 be, 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 numbers, 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, oh 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, fired 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 Phillippi, 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 _secundem 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, and it would have been taken as a very
serious affront indeed, 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 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 any casual observation by strangers by being covered
over with the leaves of the plants, and 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, as a radical
cure, which it certainly was. 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.