THE NORTHERN TABLE-LAND.
The Whanganui stream--Oruapuraho Valley--Waihaha
River--Kahakaharoa--The sweetbriar--The kiwi--The moa--A
gigantic lizard--Waikomiko and Waihora Rivers--Te Tihoi
Plains--Scenery--Mount Titiraupenga--Mangakowiriwiri
River--Mangakino River--Swimming horses--Our camp--The Maoris
as travellers--A Maori joke--Good horsemen--Their knowledge of
the country--Their endurance--The Waipapa--Te Toto Ranges--The
Waipari--Te Tauranga--The Upper Puniu--A fine specimen of
tattooing--A night at Hengia.
We left Pouotepiki early on the following morning, and, as the _tangi_
was at an end, about a dozen mounted natives, who were going in the
same direction as ourselves, invited us to join them. Leaving the
_pa_ in a long cavalcade, we descended into a valley, and crossed the
Whanganui stream flowing into Lake Taupo.
Further to the north, we crossed the Waikino stream, and after passing
over steep, fern-clad hills we reached the Oruapuraho Valley, formed by
a wild ravine sunk like an enormous pit in the table-land. This curious
place, which was about two miles long, was exactly 200 feet in depth,
and was walled in on every side with perpendicular masses of trachytic
and white pumice rock, which were broken here and there into the form
of enormous bluffs, which jutted out in the most fantastic shapes.
Winding, precipitous ravines opened out now and again in the direction
of the lake and towards the mountainous country on the west, but beyond
these wild gorges nothing could be seen beyond the towering walls of
the deep valley, the sides of which appeared to attain, all along the
course, to a general height of 200 feet, the altitude of the table-land
being, both at the entrance and exit of the valley, exactly 2000 feet
above the level of the sea. A small stream wound through the centre of
this rock-bound ravine, about the sides of which the tussock grass and
fern grew in great luxuriance, together with the _koromiko_, of which
our horses ate greedily.
The table-land fell to 1700 feet as we gained the Waihaha River, the
name of which literally means "still waters." There was a very deep
descent to it, and looking from the top of this down upon the stream,
there was not a ripple upon its surface. It was, however, some hundred
feet wide at the fording-place, and as the water was deep, we had
to swim our horses. On the opposite side of this river, towards the
east, a castellated bluff rose up to a height of nearly 200 feet, in
appearance not unlike a fortified stronghold, while beyond this point
the river fell in the form of a small waterfall, as it wound on its way
to Lake Taupo.
[Illustration: MOA AND APTERYX.]
At about a mile distant from the Waihaha River, after passing through
a wild, rocky gorge, where fantastic masses of rock stood up above
the conical hills like monuments, we arrived at Kahakaharoa, a small
_pa_ situated on a winding mountain stream called Te Pikopiko. At one
time there had been a considerable native settlement here, but now
the whole place was nearly abandoned. We were detained here all the
following day by an incessant rain that came down in a perfect deluge,
the streams rising all round us with marvellous rapidity. This was a
very wild, dreary-looking place, situated in a rock-bound, inaccessible
spot, right at the base of the Hurakia Mountains, and the appearance
of the inhabitants seemed quite in keeping with the locality. Our
horses fared badly at this camping-place, and were compelled to subsist
upon the ripe berries of the sweetbriar, which here grew in wonderful
luxuriance, so much so that our animals, following out the laws of
natural selection, would often have to stand on their hind legs to
reach the bright red fruit.
Here, besides the usual diet of pork and potatoes, we were treated to
roast _kiwi_. This bird (_Apteryx Australis_) is the only remaining
representative of the great family of New Zealand _Struthionidæ_. It is
a dwarf form of the moa, not larger than a fair-sized hen, with short,
rudimentary wings, totally unfit for flying, and without a tail; it has
four toes on each foot, a long bill resembling that of a snipe, while
its body is covered with pendulous feathers resembling hair. Its habits
are nocturnal; it lives in recesses under the roots of trees, and feeds
upon insects, grubs, and the seeds of various plants; the hen lays but
one egg, which for the size of the bird is extraordinarily large. These
birds, which live in pairs, are still very plentiful in the dense,
unfrequented ranges of the King Country.[70]
Throughout the journey we always made it a practice to inquire of the
natives as to whether they had ever discovered any remains of the
moa,[71] but, beyond a reference to it in their traditions, little
appeared to be known of it. The natives, however, at Kahakaharoa
informed us that in former times the bones of this bird had been found
in the swamps around Lake Rotoaira.
It is also worthy of remark that we ascertained that there was a
tradition among all the tribes of the existence at one time of a
gigantic lizard, which is said to have inhabited the caves and rocky
places of the North Island, but whether this was in fact a real or
fabulous reptile, it would seem impossible to determine.
We left Kahakaharoa as soon as the swollen state of the rivers would
allow us, and, after crossing the Waikomiko River, continued our course
in a northerly direction along the table-land which here opened out
into a broad expanse of rolling plains, stretching away to the north as
far as the eye could reach. We passed by the head-waters of the Waihora
River, which was the last stream of any importance, forming the western
watershed of Lake Taupo.
Journeying still further on, we crossed the Te Tihoi Plains, a fine
tract of open country extending around the mountains of Titiraupenga as
far north as the banks of the Waikato River, and thence north-westerly
to the Te Toto Ranges. This large area, comprising nearly 1000 square
miles, was the country described upon the maps as covered with dense
bush; and where we had expected to travel through primeval forests we
found magnificent open plains, clothed with a rich vegetation of native
grasses, and composed of some of the best soil we had met with during
our journey.
As we rode over these plains, the scenery was magnificent, as much by
reason of the vast scope of country that stretched before us as by
the variety of mountain scenery that surrounded the plains in every
direction. To the north-east high, forest-clad mountains rose up one
above the other in the direction of Ouranui and the valley of the
Waikato, while to the west were rugged, forest-clad ranges, crowned by
the towering form of Titiraupenga.
This magnificent mountain, which is one of the highest peaks in the
northern portion of the King Country, rises to an altitude of some 4000
feet above the level of the sea. It assumes in general outline the
formation of an extensive cone, with a broad base and long sweeping
sides, while its summit is surmounted by a gigantic pinnacle of rock,
of a pointed form, and which serves with the great mountain as a
conspicuous landmark all over the surrounding country. It is covered
from base to summit with dense forests, and its enormous gorges and
deep ravines give rise to many streams and rivers.
For a considerable distance along our course the altitude of the
table-land varied from 2000 to 2450 feet, until we struck the
Mangakowiriwiri, a curious underground river flowing from Titiraupenga.
This river burst through a tremendous gorge of the mountain, flanked on
either side by tall precipices of rock, and then cut its way through a
narrow, rocky chasm. Looking down into the deep fissure, we could just
see the silver streak of water foaming nearly a hundred feet below, but
in many places it passed entirely out of sight when the channel ran
underground. This stream, which was 2200 feet above the sea, we were
enabled to cross by means of a very narrow and very primitive footway,
which the natives told us was known as the "bridge of God."
From the Mangakowiriwiri, our course lay through an open, undulating
country covered with a luxuriant growth of tussock and other native
grasses. Here the table-land began to fall perceptibly towards the
north-west, and for a long distance it averaged in altitude from 1000
to 1150 feet, and when we reached the valley of the Mangakino River
it had fallen to 1000 feet. This was one of our longest journeys, the
distance travelled during the day being over forty miles, so that it
was moonlight when we arrived at the banks of the river. The Mangakino
ran through a deep mountain gorge, and formed one of the many streams
issuing from the Titiraupenga Ranges, and flowing into the Waikato.
We soon found that the river was much swollen by the recent rains, and
that it would be necessary to swim our horses. Four of the natives
who had accompanied us from Pouotepiki were still with us, so that
altogether we had to get six horses across, but the animals behaved
splendidly, and swam through the icy cold water like ducks, the Maori
horses showing their bush knowledge by taking the lead. Altogether it
was a very dangerous crossing-place to take, especially at night-time,
as the river just below the ford fell over a deep precipice with noise
like thunder.
Once on the opposite bank, we pitched camp for the night, and made a
meal out of what we could muster between us. All we could boast of was
a little flour, some of which the natives worked up into a dough in a
"pannikin," and then rolling it up into long pieces between the palms
of their hands, wound the pieces round sticks in a spiral fashion, and
baked them in front of the fire. A few potatoes the Maoris had with
them were likewise spitted and roasted in this way. The place where we
camped was an exceedingly wild-looking spot, and during the night we
experienced a severe frost, the thermometer descending to 28°.
We struck our camp at the Mangakino before daylight, and set out on
our journey at once, but, unpleasant to relate, without any breakfast,
as our commissariat was now reduced to a few potatoes, which we had
determined to cook when we should get further on the road. We rose from
the valley of the river on to the level plains just as the first rays
of the sun swept over the country in a flood of glowing light, and the
air was so pure and buoyant that we soon forgot that we were journeying
on an empty stomach, until we came to a stream, where we found an
abundant growth of watercress, of which we ate heartily, one of the
Maoris remarking with a broad grin that we had at last come "to feed
like the cows." When travelling with the Maoris I could not but admire
the easy, good-natured way in which they took everything--nothing
disconcerted them. When impediments to travel presented themselves,
the bigger the difficulties to overcome, the more ardent they appeared
to surmount them. When crossing the swollen rivers, if one got a bigger
ducking than the rest, they would laugh and joke at the ill-luck of
their comrade, while he in his turn would enjoy the amusement as much
as they did.
On one occasion, when we were ascending a steep, slippery hill, the
saddle-girth of one of the horses broke, and the saddle slipping aside,
the rider fell heavily and rolled down a muddy bank. This brought down
roars of laughter from the others, who told him not to mind himself,
but that it was a pity to spoil a good horse by letting him know how
easily a man could fall off his back.
I always found the natives to be expert and fearless horsemen, and
I believe that a cavalry regiment of well-trained and well-mounted
Maoris, both for courage, endurance, and _élan_, would form one of
the finest body of troops ever marshalled upon a parade-ground or a
battle-field.
When travelling with them, another interesting fact was that they
seemed to take a pride in being able to define thoroughly all the
natural features of their country. Each mountain and hill had its
special name, and every valley and plain and river, down to the
smallest stream, each being called after some characteristic feature or
legendary tale connected with it; while every tree, plant, bird, and
insect was known by a designation which betokened either its appearance
or habits.
A remarkable feature indicative of the endurance of the natives,
was that one night they would be sleeping in a _wharepuni_ with the
thermometer over 100°, and the next night they would not hesitate to
lie down upon the damp ground with only a blanket over them, and with
the thermometer at several degrees below freezing-point. It is true we
often went through the same ordeal ourselves during the journey, but it
appeared to me to be more remarkable on the part of the Maoris, as they
seemed to enjoy the stifling heat of their _wharepunis_ as a positive
luxury, while we looked upon it as being very much akin to a sojourn in
Hades.
We reached the Waipapa River near its junction with the Mangatete, and
descended from the table-land, over 100 feet, to the crossing-place.
This river, which was one of the largest we had met with, rushed with
a rapid current through a deep rock-bound gorge from the mountains
of Titiraupenga to join the Waikato, of which it formed one of the
principal tributaries. We gained the crossing-place by a steep, winding
descent, the mountains with their rocky bluffs on the opposite side
of the river being clothed with a dense vegetation of giant trees,
while to the right of the track by which we had to descend was a small
mountain forming a complete cone, and which was clothed from base to
summit with a luxuriant growth of fern and tall _manuka_. The whole
gorge through which the river wound had a very wild and beautiful
appearance, while the water, like that of the Waikato, into which it
fell after crossing the plains, was as clear as crystal. Beyond the
Waipapa we passed through more open country until we neared the Te Toto
ranges, when mountain, hill, and valley mingled together in a most
picturesque way.
It took us several hours to traverse the Te Toto ranges, the track
winding about in every direction, with deep ravines on either side.
Here the vegetation was of the most luxuriant and varied order, but the
enormous roots of the great trees made riding very difficult.
We crossed the Waipari River, a large stream flowing from the Rangitoto
ranges into the Waikato. The descent to the crossing-place of this
river was no less than 500 feet, and we had to mount a slippery incline
on the opposite side of equal altitude. Our course now lay over high
fern-clad ridges, and now, for the first time, the broad valley of the
Waipa was before us, with Maungatautari to the north, and Pirongia to
the north-west.
Towards sundown we passed along a ridge, with a tremendous rock-bound
gorge beneath us, and where the enormous rocks were dispersed about
in a way which resembled the ruins of a feudal stronghold. This
place was formerly occupied as a _pa_, and on one occasion a great
battle was fought there by the Ngatiraukawa, who were defeated by the
Ngatituwharetoa and Ngatimatakore, who, it is said, feasted for days on
the bodies of their enemies.
A few miles beyond Tetauranga we arrived at a low hill, upon the summit
of which a number of Maoris were camped in tents. As luck would have
it, feeding was just going on, and we were invited to partake of a
welcome meal. Although it was now evening, we determined to push on our
way, and when the moon rose we started, and gained the head-waters of
the Puniu River, which we crossed with the intention of camping on the
opposite side; we, however, got wet in the operation, and as the place
was swampy, and the night fearfully cold, we determined to ride several
miles further, to Hengia _pa_, which we reached at ten o'clock, after
a journey of over sixty miles, and which had kept us in the saddle for
about seventeen hours. Before arrival at the settlement, the whole
country was covered with a white frost, and the damp, chilly cold of
the low valley of the Waipa seemed to go right into the marrow of one's
bones.
The natives appeared much surprised at our nocturnal raid upon them,
but we were soon invited into a _whare_, where a big fire was burning,
and where four men and an old woman were located with three or four
mongrel dogs. One of the men, although apparently very old, was yet
wiry and active, while his pinched, sharp features were tattooed in
the most elaborate way up to the very roots of his hair, the thin blue
lines forming a complete network over his countenance. This was the
most artistically tattooed savage we had met on the journey, and Turner
remarked to me that he would much like to have the old man's head to
preserve as a _mokaikai_,[72] but he was cautious enough not to express
this desire to the antiquated Hauhau.
After we had talked over matters for some time, and the surprise
occasioned by our visit had somewhat abated, our tattooed friend
produced a newly-slaughtered pig from a dark corner of the _whare_, and
when this was dismembered and some potatoes had been peeled by the old
woman, there was soon a good meal cooking for our benefit. After we had
partaken of our repast, we were invited by our entertainers to remain
the night, and being only too glad to take advantage of their proffered
hospitality, we took up our quarters in a corner of the primitive
_whare_, which, unpleasant to relate, was literally alive with fleas.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 70: For wingless birds, see Appendix.]
[Footnote 71: There were no less than six species of this extinct
wingless bird--
The _Dinornis Giganteus_, height 11 feet.
" _Robustus_, " 8 feet 6 in.
" _Elephantopus_" 6 feet 8 in.
" _Casuarinus_ " 5 feet 6 in.
" _Crassus_ " 5 feet.
" _Didiformus_ " 4 feet 8 in.]
[Footnote 72: _Mokaikai_, a process of embalming heads, by saturating
them with the pyroligneous acid of wood. This custom was at one time
very common with the Maoris, who thus preserved the heads of their
ancestors, the skin and tattoo marks of the face remaining perfect for
many years.]