close to the water's edge, and behind this natural screen the canoes
were concealed, and the men lay down to rest until the moment came to
strike. At the first appearance of dawn, the canoes were shot into the
lake, and before the inhabitants of Waikiekie had shaken slumber from
their eyes, the shaft was on its way that would send many of them to
their last long sleep. The _pa_ was attacked on every side, and
with a vigour which left little chance of escape. Such resistance as
was possible in such a situation was offered by the drowsy defenders.
But the mortal fear with which they had come to regard the Ngati-Toa,
together with the fury of the onslaught and the completeness of the
surprise, spread panic amongst them, and the resistance was soon left
to a desperate few. Their valiant efforts brought them nothing but the
glory which attends the death of the brave. They were quickly borne
down before the onrush of the assailants, whose shouts of triumph,
joined with the terrified cries of the fugitives, filled the morning
air. Large numbers, who looked to discretion rather than valour,
plunged into the lake, and by swimming, diving, and dodging, a few
managed to elude both capture and death. But many were slain as they
swam, and, while their bodies sank to the bottom, their blood mingled
with the waters of the lake, until it lay crimson beneath the rising
sun. Warriors and women, old men and children, to the number of two
hundred, we are told, perished on that fateful morning, which saw the
Muaupoko tribe driven from Horowhenua, and the epoch of their
greatness brought to a close. A mere remnant of the tribe escaped, and
made their way through the forests and mountain fastnesses towards the
south, where, within the space of another year, they were again
pursued, hunted, and slaughtered, with all the old relentless hatred
of their destroyer.
Having inflicted this crushing blow upon Muaupoko, and feeling
convinced that they could never again be a serious menace to
Ngati-Toa, the section of the Ngati-Awa tribe who, under
Rere-ta-whangawhanga and other chiefs, had accompanied Te Rauparaha
from Taranaki, now determined to return to their own country at
Waitara;[60] and it was this decision which made it imperative that
the Ngati-Toa leader should seek efficient aid from some other
quarter. He accordingly, without delay, despatched messengers to the
north, once again to invite his kinsmen of the Ngati-Raukawa tribe to
come and join him. These emissaries, having arrived at Taupo, learned
that an attempt to reach Kapiti by way of the east coast had already
been made by Te Whatanui, but without success, as he had been defeated
by a Hawke's Bay tribe and driven back. This experience had somewhat
cooled his ardour; but when Te Rauparaha's messengers came with the
news that Kapiti had been taken, and told of his marvellous success at
Waipata and Waikiekie, interest in the project at once revived.
Especially was a young chief, named Te Ahu-karamu, fired with its
romantic prospects, and he immediately organised a force of one
hundred and twenty men and set off for the land of promise.
Almost simultaneously with the arrival of these reinforcements,
additional strength was gained by the accession of another band of
Ngati-Awa from Taranaki; and, with these additions to his ranks, Te
Rauparaha felt himself strong enough to resume once more active
operations in the field. He accordingly moved upon a skilfully built
_pa_ situated at Paekakariki, some miles to the southward of
Kapiti, whither the escaping Muaupoko had fled and taken refuge. In
this adventure a larger force than usual was employed; for not only
were the new arrivals keen for a brush with the enemy, but the natural
strength of the _pa_ was such that Rauparaha knew it would be
useless to approach it without a force of adequate proportions. In
these anticipations his judgment was correct, as usual, for the
struggle proved to be an exceedingly obstinate one and the death-roll
on both sides considerable. After some days of incessant attack, in
which the few muskets possessed by Ngati-Toa played their fatal part,
the Muaupoko defence was pierced, and the victory was sealed with all
the atrocities associated with the savage warfare of the ancient Maori.
The capture of this _pa_ proved to be a rich prize for Rauparaha.
Not only did it uproot the last stronghold of the Muaupoko people, but
it brought a substantial addition to his supplies. Large quantities
of provisions were discovered within the stockade, evidently collected
in anticipation of a lengthy siege. So provident, in fact, had the
inhabitants of the Paekakariki fort been in this respect, that the
large attacking force spent the succeeding two months feasting upon
the captured stores, interspersed with an occasional cannibal repast.
This period of rest the visitors were prepared to enjoy to the full;
for after a battle nothing was more congenial to Maori warriors than
to lie idly about the sunny places in the _pa_, and discuss in every
detail the stirring incidents of the fight.
It was while thus basking in fancied security that the tables were
suddenly turned upon them, and from a most unexpected quarter. Hearing
from some of the fugitives of the capture of the Paekakariki
_pa_, and burning to avenge the raid which Ngati-Toa had
previously made into the Wairarapa, the members of the Ngati-Kahungunu
tribe residing at Wairarapa and near Wellington believed that this was
their golden opportunity. Secretly collecting a fighting force of
considerable strength, they made their way through the bush to
Paekakariki, and there fell upon the unwary and self-indulgent
invaders. To them it was something of a novel experience to be thus
repaid in their own tactics; but the swiftness and audacity with which
the blow was delivered completely demoralised them, and the erstwhile
assailants suffered the humiliation of being beaten back upon Waikanae
with inglorious precipitancy. The whole procedure necessarily involved
considerable loss on the part of Ngati-Toa and their allies, and the
bitterness of the reverse was especially galling because it was the
first occasion on which they had been worsted in arms since their
occupation of the country had commenced. The closeness of the pursuit
did not slacken until the fugitives had reached Waikanae; but beyond
this point Ngati-Kahungunu did not press their advantage. They were
now rushing into touch with Rauparaha's permanent settlements, from
which the echoes of the strife might draw reinforcements at any
moment. Unwilling to overrun their victory, the men from
Whanganui-a-Tara withdrew to the south, well pleased with their
achievement, which was not without its lesson for Te Rauparaha.
The chief saw that the time had not yet arrived when he could relax
his life-long vigilance. Heavy as had been the defeats which he had
inflicted upon the resident people, he saw that their spirit had not
yet been completely crushed. Brave as his own followers were, he saw
that they were not proof against the panic which often springs from a
surprise attack. The thing, however, which caused him most concern was
the hostile attitude which was now being adopted towards him by the
Ngati-Kahungunu people. Hitherto this powerful tribe, whose domain was
a wide and populous one on the eastern coast, had remained
comparatively neutral in the contest for supremacy in the west. But
now this attitude was abandoned, and under the encouragement afforded
by this prospect of protection, the displaced tribes were gradually
venturing back to their deserted settlements. Should an effective
alliance be formed between his enemies on the two coasts, the position
would at once become so charged with danger that his comparatively
small force would find itself in a most critical situation. It was,
then, the threatening attitude of his neighbours which caused the
Ngati-Toa chief to decide finally upon the abandonment of the mainland
and the transference of the whole of his people to Kapiti, there to
await the result of his mission to his friends at Maungatautari. In
the meantime three strongly fortified _pas_ were built upon the
island, and every preparation made against possible attack. These
_pas_, situated one at either end, and the third in the centre of
the island, were designed with as keen an eye for trade as for the
purposes of defence. Te Rauparaha had not lost sight of the main
purpose of his conquest, which was to bring himself into close
association with the whalers, from whom he hoped to obtain, by
purchase, barter, or bullying, additions to his store of guns and
ammunition. For this purpose Kapiti was easily the key to the
position. Favoured by deep water and safe anchorage, it afforded the
securest of shelter to vessels seeking to escape from the dirty
weather which comes whistling through the Strait. Boats lying snugly
at anchor under the lee of the land would have opportunities for trade
from which all others would be cut off; and there is little doubt that
this commercial advantage was coolly calculated upon when the _pas_ on
the mainland were evacuated and those on the island were occupied.
This much at least is certain, that, whether part of a premeditated
scheme or otherwise, the move proved to be a masterstroke, for it gave
to Te Rauparaha a virtual monopoly of the white man's patronage, a
privilege which for years he guarded with jealous exclusiveness.
When it became known that Te Rauparaha had retired to Kapiti, and
there seemed less danger of immediate molestation, the Rangitane
people again began to collect in force near their old home at Hotuiti.
They built a strong _pa_ near the present town of Foxton, and
here they were joined by a number of Ngati-Apa chiefs and people from
Rangitikei. This proceeding Te Rauparaha regarded as a danger and a
menace to his safety; for he had no reason to believe that he enjoyed
their friendship, and no means of ascertaining when they might think
fit to wreak their vengeance upon him. He therefore decided to take
the initiative and attack them. Accordingly, with Rangihaeata and his
Ngati-Apa wife Pikinga, he marched his war party up the coast and at
once invested the place. The method by which he sought to reduce the
_pa_ to submission was a clever stratagem--perfectly honourable,
perhaps, according to the Maori code of warfare--but utterly repulsive
to civilised ideas; and, to those who judge him by the latter
standard, it lowers Te Rauparaha from the high plane of a classic
warrior to the level of a cunning and unscrupulous savage. His first
act of generalship aimed at separating the two tribes, a step which
has been attributed by some to a desire to spare the Ngati-Apa,
because of their relationship with Pikinga. Others, however, can see
in it nothing but a clever ruse to divide the defending force, so that
he might the more easily attack and defeat them singly. He therefore
sent Pikinga to the Ngati-Apa chiefs with a request that they would
withdraw to their own territory beyond the Rangitikei River. Probably
he promised them safe-conduct on their journey; but, if he did, it was
of no avail, for they firmly refused to evacuate the Hotuiti _pa_, and
doggedly remained where they were. Feigning, then, to abandon his
campaign, Te Rauparaha sent to the Rangitane chiefs, inviting them to
come to him and negotiate terms of peace.
In view of their past experiences it might have been expected that
such a request would be scornfully declined; but after long and
anxious debate it was decided--mainly, it is said, on the advice of
the Ngati-Apa chiefs--that the leading Rangitane warriors should meet
the Ngati-Toa leader and make the best terms possible with him. The
result was, of course, the old story: the ruthless slaughter of the
confiding ambassadors, who found that Te Rauparaha had come, not with
peace, but unrelenting war. Treachery was no more suspected inside the
_pa_ than out of it; and while the people were deluded into the
belief that the war-clouds had passed away, they were being secretly
and silently surrounded. At a given signal the walls were stormed and
a bloody massacre followed, from which the Ngati-Toa warriors emerged
sated with gruesome triumph. The slain were eaten on the spot, and the
prisoners were taken to Waikanae, there to await the returning
appetite of their captors.
So dastardly an attack upon their friends and so gross an insult to
their tribal pride could not be ignored; and although time might
elapse before the Ngati-Apa peoples would be able to strike an
avenging blow, it was quite certain that so soon as the favourable
moment arrived the Ngati-Toa would have to pay the penalty of their
treachery. But Te Rauparaha never dreamed that they would have the
temerity to attack him upon his own land, and while he was lying in
fancied security at Waikanae, the storm suddenly burst upon him. The
Ngati-Apa, under Te Hakeke, had hurriedly collected their war party,
and obtaining reinforcements from the fugitives who had escaped from
the massacre at Hotuiti, came by stealthy marches down the coast and
fell upon the unsuspecting Ngati-Toa in the dead of night. Next
morning the camp was in ruins, Te Rauparaha's force was in flight, and
sixty of his followers, including four of Te Pehi's daughters, were
lying dead amongst the _débris_. The balance of battle honours having
been thus somewhat adjusted, the aggressors retired, well satisfied
with the result. They were allowed to depart without a resumption of
hostilities, for the supports who had come over from Kapiti were
either not strong enough, or not keen enough, to pursue them.[61]
Whatever may have been Te Rauparaha's previous disposition towards
Ngati-Apa, whether he was genuinely disposed to befriend them or
whether he was merely playing on their credulity, is of no further
importance, for from that day he took on an attitude of undisguised
hostility towards them, revoking all promises of peace, stated or
implied, and becoming, in the characteristic language of
Matene-te-Whiwhi, "dark in his heart in regard to Ngati-Apa." The
shield of friendship having been removed, this unfortunate tribe was
now exposed to all the fury of the most ruthless man in New Zealand;
and in the raids which his warriors made against them, neither man nor
woman was spared who was unfortunate enough to fall into his hands.
These misfortunes created a bond of sympathy between Ngati-Apa and
their neighbours, the Rangitane and Muaupoko, and paved the way for an
alliance against the common enemy. Although banished from Horowhenua
and wandering about the solitary places of the coast, a broken and
shattered people, there was still sufficient energy and hatred
remaining in one of the Muaupoko chiefs to make a final effort to
recover their departed _mana_.
Te Raki, who had suffered captivity at the hands of Te Pehi, aspiring,
after his escape, to be the regenerator of his tribe, became the
active apostle of a federation which was to embrace the tribes who had
felt the weight of the Ngati-Toa hand. From Waitotara in the north to
Arapawa and Massacre Bay in the south, and Wairarapa in the east, he
organised an alliance which could hurl two thousand fighting men
against their redoubtable adversary. Canoes from far and near brought
this host to the appointed rendezvous, the northerners assembling at
Otaki and the southerners at Waikanae. From these two points this army
converged upon Kapiti, their canoes "darkening the sea" as they went.
The magnitude of the armada, however, was greater than its discipline,
and before it had proceeded far its movements were discovered. The
noise of the paddles, as the canoes approached the island in the early
morning, caught the keen ear of Nopera, and when the right wing landed
at Rangatira Point, they were opposed by the people whom they had
expected to surprise. The attack was fierce and desperate, and when
Pokaitara, the Ngati-Toa commander, found himself being driven back
towards Waiorua, he astutely proposed a truce. It would give him a
welcome respite while it lasted, and perhaps some advantage in the
first moment of its violation. Ignorant of the fact that a message had
been sent to Te Rauparaha, who happened to be at the centre of the
island, and hoping for the speedy arrival of his own laggard
reinforcements, who were still at sea, Rangi-maire-hau, the Ngati-Apa
chief from Turakina, in a weak moment, agreed to a suspension of
hostilities. Scarcely had this been arranged, when Te Rauparaha, with
the major part of his people, arrived upon the scene, and repudiating
the agreement to which his lieutenant had committed himself, he
recommenced the sanguinary work, and fought to such purpose that the
issue was soon placed beyond doubt. With one hundred and seventy of
their tribesmen slain, the Ngati-Apa attack began to slacken.
Presently their ranks were seen to waver, and an impetuous charge at
this decisive moment drove into rout what had hitherto been an
impenetrable front. The slaughter of pursuit was scarcely less than
that of resistance. Dead and dying lay on every side, and many found a
watery grave in their vain effort to swim to the canoes, which had not
yet reached the shore.
News that disaster had overtaken the advance guard quickly spread to
the other sections of the allied forces; and, without attempting to
retrieve the fortunes of the day, they turned and precipitately fled
in whichever direction safety seemed to lie. When he realised that his
host had been worsted in the battle, Rangi-maire-hau disdained to fly,
but threw himself upon the mercy of Te Rangihaeata, who had borne
himself with conspicuous bravery throughout the attack. That haughty
chief, however, saw no reason why he should spread his protecting
mantle over his would-be exterminator, even though the appeal was
founded on the bond of relationship with his Ngati-Apa wife; and,
steeling his heart against every entreaty, he ordered Rangi-maire-hau's
immediate death. With this exception, it is recorded to the credit of
Ngati-Toa that they used their victory with unusual moderation. Thus,
the largest force which had ever been marshalled during the Maori wars
along this coast was defeated by one of the smallest; the organisation
of two years was dissipated in as many hours; and the invaders were
only the more firmly established in the land by this futile attempt to
uproot them. This great victory, which settled for ever the question
of supremacy, was duly celebrated by feasting and dancing, during
which Te Rauparaha chanted a song of triumph, which was especially
offensive to his enemies, taunting them, as it did, with a lack of
courage, and foretelling even greater misfortunes that were yet to
befall them:--
"When will your anger dare?
When will your power arise?
Salute your child with your nose.
But how salute him now?
You will see the rejoicing tide
Of the warrior's coming glee,
And the departure of Rongo-ma-whiti."
While Te Rauparaha was enjoying the fruits of his victory, his forces
received welcome reinforcements from two quarters. The news of battles
fought and laurels won had reached Taranaki, where the Ngati-Tama
chief, Te Puoho, and some of his followers, whose curiosity had been
aroused by the tales told by their returned tribesmen, came down to
learn the truth of the matter for themselves. Close upon their heels
came the long-hoped-for band of Ngati-Raukawa, who signalised their
advent by at once attacking the settlements in the Rangitikei and
Manawatu districts. While one party skirted the coast,[62] the other
struck inland, and under their chiefs, Te Whatu and Te Whetu,
surrounded and captured a Ngati-Apa _pa_ at Rangiure, and then
proceeded to Pikitane, where they killed a number of the resident
people and made the rest prisoners. These two settlements had been
taken completely by surprise, their people little dreaming that a war
party was marching through the land. No better prepared were the
Ngati-Apa then living at Awahuri, who were next attacked, and their
chief, named Te Aonui, was added to the train of captives. The
invaders then pushed their victorious march down the course of the
Oroua River, as far as its junction with the Manawatu. Here they
crossed the larger stream, and immediately attacked the _pa_ at
Te Whakatipua. This assault was stoutly resisted by the chiefs,
Kaihinu and Piropiro, who paid the penalty with their lives, but the
remainder of the people who were not shot by the invaders were spared
on proffering a humble submission. This was practically the only
discreet course open to them. Not only were they placed at a serious
disadvantage, away from their fighting _pas_, but many of the
Ngati-Raukawa were armed with guns, while the Rangitane people had not
as yet been able to discard the wooden spears and stone clubs of their
forefathers.
The rapid movements of the Ngati-Raukawa, and the completeness of
their captures, had prevented the news of their presence being
despatched to the adjoining settlements; and, as a consequence, when
they ascended the Manawatu and came upon the little _pa_ at
Rotoatane, situated not far from Tiakitahuna,[63] they were able to
attack and capture it almost before the people could be summoned from
the fields. Not that it was a bloodless victory. A Rangitane chief,
named Tina, fought with desperation, and, before he was overpowered by
superior numbers, three of the assailants were stretched dead at his
feet. Once more the advance was sounded, the objective this time being
the _pa_ at Tiakitahuna itself. This settlement was under the
chieftainship of Toringa and Tamati Panau, the latter being the father
of the chief Kerei te Panau,[64] who until recently lived at Awapuni.
These men were evidently more alert than their neighbours, for no
sooner did the _taua_ come in sight than they took to their
canoes and paddled across to the opposite bank of the river. While the
two tribes were thus ranged on opposite sides of the stream, the
Rangitane had time to consider the position. Tamati Panau was the
first to seek an explanation, by calling out to Te Whatu, "Where is
the war party from?" Clear and quick came the answer back, "From the
north." That was sufficient for Toringa, who had already tested the
mettle of the northerners, and he at once sent a curse across the
water, hurled at the heads of the invaders with all the venom that
tribal hatred and a sense of injured vanity could instil. Whether it
was the dread of Toringa's denunciation, or whether the Ngati-Raukawa
were satisfied with their unbroken course of victory, is not clear to
the present-day historian; but the Rangitane traditions relate that,
after firing a single shot from one of their muskets, the invaders
retired from the district, taking their prisoners with them, and made
their way south to join Te Rauparaha, who was anxiously awaiting their
coming.
The prospect opened up to these new-comers was far beyond anything
that they had dreamed. In fact, so fascinated was Te Ahu-karamu with
the new and beautiful country which his great kinsman had conquered
that, after a reasonable rest, he returned to Taupo for the purpose of
bringing the whole of his people away from a position which was daily
becoming more exposed to the aggression of the Waikato tribes. But his
designs in this direction were nearly thwarted by the persistency with
which the tribe clung to their northern home, even in defiance of his
threat to invoke the wrath of his _atua_[65] if they dared to
question the command of their chief. Finding that the terrors of his
god had no influence upon them, Karamu adopted an instrument of the
devil, and, taking a torch in his hand, brought his obdurate tribesmen
to their senses by burning every house in the _pa_ to the ground.
Rendered thus houseless and homeless, there was nothing for the
dejected people to do but to follow their imperious leader. In his
journey back to Kapiti he was joined by two of the most famous chiefs
of that day--Te Whatanui and Te Heuheu, the former of whom was
destined to become the patriarch of Horowhenua and the protector of
its persecuted people. Collecting a strong retinue of followers, the
three chiefs set off in 1825 by the same route which Karamu had
previously travelled down the valley of the Rangitikei, varying the
monotony of the journey[66] through the Ngati-Apa country by
occasionally chasing frightened fugitives, in order to gratify their
pride and glut their appetite.
Upon their arrival at Kapiti long and anxious consultations followed
between the chiefs, the result of which was that Te Whatanui at last
consented to migrate[67] and throw in his fortunes with Te Rauparaha.
This was eventually accomplished in 1828-29, the consolidation of the
Ngati-Toa and Ngati-Raukawa tribes making their future absolutely
secure and bringing Te Rauparaha's wildest dreams of conquest within
measurable distance of accomplishment. His broadened aspirations had
long before this extended across the Strait; and, next to the conquest
of the coast on which he was now operating, it had become his greatest
ambition to measure his strength against the natives of the Middle
Island. Their reputed wealth in greenstone had aroused his avarice,
while the prospect of acquiring additional territory appealed
strongly to his love of power.
But before he was able to perfect his plans for carrying into effect
this new stroke of aggression, an event occurred which was destined to
have important results. It will be remembered that the crowning
circumstance which had induced Te Rauparaha to leave Kawhia was the
sight of a vessel beating through Cook Strait. He had there and then
settled in his mind that this part of the coast was soon to become an
important rendezvous for whalers, &c., and already his anticipations
were being realised with an amazing rapidity. The whalers were now
frequent visitors to Kapiti, and many were the marvels which they
brought in their train. But most of all were the natives absorbed in
the prospect of securing from these rough seafarers guns and
ammunition, steel tomahawks, and other weapons, which would give them
an advantage over their enemies in the only business then worth
consideration--the business of war. Many of these ships, however, had
not come prepared for this traffic,[68] and the lack of guns, rather
than any hesitation to part with them, made the process of arming a
tribe a slow one. It had at least proved much too slow for some of the
more restless spirits of the race; and impatience, added to a natural
love of adventure, had led some of them to ship to Sydney, and even to
England, in the hope of bringing back with them the means of
accelerating their enemies' destruction. Of these latter Hongi had
been a conspicuous example, and the success which had attended his
mission to England roused a spirit of emulation in the breasts of
other chiefs, who were only waiting the opportunity of following his
example. Of these, Te Pehi Kupe, the conqueror of Kapiti, was one of
the few who were signally successful. Knowing no language but his own,
having only the vaguest notions of what a voyage to England meant,
and a very precarious prospect of ever being brought back, this man
had thrown himself on board an English whaler, and, resolute against
all dissuasions, and even against physical force, had insisted upon
being carried to a country of which he had but two ideas--King George,
of whom he had heard, and guns, which he had seen and hoped to
possess.
Thus it came about that, while the ship _Urania_ was lying
becalmed in Cook Strait, about five or six miles from the land, on
February 26, 1824, Captain Reynolds perceived three large canoes,
fully manned, approaching the vessel. Doubtful what such a
demonstration might portend, Captain Reynolds put his ship in a
condition to resist an attack if necessary; and when the canoes were
within hail, he, by word and sign, endeavoured to warn them off. Had
he chosen, he might easily have sent the frail-looking barques to the
bottom by a single shot from the ship's guns; but, unlike many another
skipper of those days, Captain Reynolds was a man actuated by
considerations which went beyond himself, and the thought of the
retaliation which might fall upon other mariners coming to the shores
of New Zealand restrained him from committing any such act of
brutality. Fortunately there was no need for drastic action, and the
behaviour of the natives was such as to leave no doubt in the mind of
the captain that their intentions were of a peaceable character. Te
Pehi boldly directed his crew to paddle alongside the ship, and,
divesting himself of all his clothing except a mat which was slung
across his shoulders, he, with the swiftness of an athlete, climbed on
board. When he reached the deck, he endeavoured by signs and gestures
to convey to Captain Reynolds that what he wanted was arms and
ammunition, and, on being informed that the ship had none to spare, he
coolly indicated that, such being the case, he had decided to remain
on board and proceed to Europe[69] to see King George. These words he
had evidently learned from some of Captain Reynolds' predecessors, for
he was able to pronounce them with sufficient distinctness to be
clearly understood. The audacity of this proposal completely staggered
the master of the _Urania_, and he at once tried to nip such ambitious
hopes in the bud by peremptorily ordering the chief back to his canoe.
Te Pehi, however, met this direction by calling to his men to move the
canoe away from the ship, and the captain next sought to give his
command practical force by throwing the chief overboard, in the hope
and belief that the canoes would pick him up out of the sea. But in
this he was again checkmated. The chief threw himself down on the deck
and seized hold of two ring-bolts, with so powerful a grip that it was
impossible to tear him away without such violence as the humanity of
Captain Reynolds would not permit. At this critical juncture a light
breeze sprang up, and Te Pehi improved the favourable circumstance by
ordering his men to paddle to the shore, as he was going to see King
George, and that he would soon return. This command was at once
obeyed, and the breeze carrying the _Urania_ off the land, Captain
Reynolds was reluctantly compelled to keep the chief on board that
night. But, far from satisfied with his self-constituted passenger, he
next day made another effort to force Te Pehi on shore, and nearly
lost his ship in the attempt. This narrow escape, and the favourable
conditions for getting away from New Zealand, to some extent
reconciled the captain to an acceptance of the situation; but his
chagrin was as great as was the delight of the chief, when it was
found that there was no option but to keep him on board for the
remainder of the voyage.
With more intimate acquaintance, the relations between the captain
and chief grew to be of the most friendly nature, and they lived
together, both on shipboard and on shore, the captain taking a kindly
interest in explaining to his protégé the mysteries of the great world
upon which he was entering, while the native clung to his new-found
friend with a confiding affection.[70] The _Urania_ ultimately reached
Liverpool, where Te Pehi was the subject of much public attention. He
was shown over the principal manufactories in Manchester and London,
his great anxiety to see King George was gratified, and, although he
was subject to a good deal of sickness, yet, thanks to the care of
Captain Reynolds, he made an excellent recovery. After about a year's
residence in England, he was placed on board H.M. ship _The Thames_,
and in October, 1825, he sailed for his native land, loaded with
presents of clothing and agricultural implements, which were given him
by benevolently minded people in the hope that, combined with the
knowledge of their use and blessing, which he had acquired in England,
they would exercise an elevating influence upon his countrymen when he
should return amongst them. Vain hope; for on his arrival at Sydney,
Te Pehi reversed the beautiful biblical allegory, and turned his
pruning hooks into spears and his ploughshares into guns and
ammunition, to aid in the work of waging eternal warfare against the
enemies of his tribe.[71]
Early in the year 1824, and immediately after Te Pehi's departure for
England, Te Rauparaha found that, in consequence of the many recent
additions to his forces, the number of natives who had placed
themselves under his command was then sufficient to enable him to
begin the main purpose of his conquest, namely, the systematic
occupation of the land.[72] He and his own immediate tribe having
decided to occupy the island of Kapiti, where they could be in closer
touch with the whalers, he now proceeded to partition the country
along the coast amongst the new arrivals. The first division led to
civil war and domestic feuds between a section of Ngati-Raukawa and
the Ngati-Tama from Taranaki, under Te Puoho, which at one time
threatened to destroy all that he had already accomplished; and it was
not until a new allotment was agreed upon, by which Ngati-Awa, to whom
Ngati-Tama were closely related, were given exclusive possession of
the country south of the Kukutauaki stream, and the Ngati-Raukawa sole
dominion over the district northward of that boundary as far as the
Wangaehu River, that his power to resist his enemies was restored by
the restoration of harmony amongst his friends. Not that there was any
immediate danger of attack; for his incessant raids upon the Ngati-Apa
and Muaupoko tribes had reduced them to the condition of a shattered
and fugitive remnant, incapable alike of organised attack or organised
defence.
It was probably one of the proudest days of Te Rauparaha's life when,
standing on Kapiti, he formally transferred the whole of the coast to
his followers by right of conquest, than which no Maori could hope for
a better title, and proclaimed to the assembled people the precise
districts which were to be their future homes, where they were to
cultivate, to catch eels, to snare and spear birds. These
dispositions, however, did not imply that he was prepared to surrender
his supreme authority over the lands, and the fact that he desired to,
and intended to, retain his right of suzerainty was made abundantly
clear. "The lands I now give you are in our joint rule, but I shall be
greater in power than you individually"; such were the terms in which
the transfer was made, and the people acquiesced in a unanimous "It is
right, O Raha! it is as you say." But Ngati-Toa, Ngati-Raukawa and
Ngati-Awa were commissioned to do something more than merely occupy
the land. In imperious tones the great chief commanded them: "Clear
the weeds from off my field." In other and less figurative words, they
were to kill and persecute the conquered peoples without pity and
without mercy; and perhaps it would have been well for Ngati-Raukawa
had they more faithfully obeyed his instructions, instead of extending
a sheltering arm to Ngati-Apa and Muaupoko, both of whom subsequently
proved themselves so unworthy of this clemency.[73]
Under the arrangement thus determined upon at Kapiti the country round
the beautiful lake at Horowhenua was taken possession of by that grand
old member of a magnificent race, Te Whatanui, and those people who
had come from the north with him. The district now known as Lower
Manawatu was occupied by another section of the Ngati-Raukawa people,
under Te Whetu, and, still higher up, Rangitikei came under the
dominion of Nepia Taratoa, a chief who seems to have been as generous
to Ngati-Apa as Whatanui was to Muaupoko. Southward of Horowhenua, as
far as the present harbour of Wellington, the country was subsequently
given over to Ngati-Awa, who were in settled possession when the
first European colonists arrived. Here in 1825-26 Pomare, their chief,
led the Ngati-Mutunga _hapu_ of the Ngati-Awa people, who forcibly
occupied the shores of the great bay, where they hoped to cultivate
the friendship of the whalers,[74] whose commerce was so profitable to
them. Their tenure, however, was not an undisputed one. They were
subjected to frequent raids and incessant harassment from the
Wairarapa tribe, whom they had displaced, and who deeply resented
being thus deprived of their one avenue of communication with the
_pakeha_. This tribe, though powerless to retrieve the aggression of
Ngati-Awa, missed no opportunity of irritating them, and Pomare was
not reluctant to hand over his trust to some other chief, so soon as
he could be honourably relieved of it. This opportunity came when,
after the fall of the Puke-rangiora _pa_ in 1831, the survivors of
that (for Ngati-Awa) disastrous day, together with the flower of their
tribe from their other settlements, abandoned Taranaki, and came down,
a fugitive host, to shelter under the protecting wing of Te Rauparaha.
With Te Puni, Wi Tako, and Wharepouri, an arrangement was entered into
in 1834, whereby the land round the harbour and the right to contest
the ownership of the territory with the unexterminated portion of the
Ngati-Kahungunu were to be ceded to them for the consideration of a
greenstone _mere_. Pomare was perhaps the more ready to relinquish
possession of what is now amongst the most valuable land in the
Dominion, because he had become possessed of information which seemed
to open up a much more agreeable prospect than resisting the
inconvenient incursions of his Wairarapa enemies. One of the young men
of his tribe, Paka-whara, who had shipped on board a whaler, had just
returned from a southern cruise, with the intelligence that the
Chatham Islands were populated by a sleek and inoffensive people, who
might be expected to fall an easy prey to such hardened veterans in
war as Ngati-Awa could now furnish. Pomare at once acted upon the
inspiration; and chartering, partly by payment and partly by
intimidation, the British brig _Rodney_, he sailed with his followers
in November, 1835, for the Chathams, where, by a fearful destruction
of human life, the well-conditioned, unwarlike Morioris were reduced
within the short space of two years to a remnant of two hundred souls.
Whether the allocation of these districts to these particular chiefs
was due to their own choice or to the will of Te Rauparaha is not
known; but in the case of Te Whetu the former appears to have been the
fact. During the raid which he made upon Manawatu while migrating to
Kapiti, he had secured amongst his captives a handsome young Rangitane
woman named Hinetiti, whose charms so pleased him that when he reached
Kapiti he made her his wife. Hine's gentleness moved her lord and
master in a way that sterner methods would not, and she soon obtained
such an influence over him that her will became his desire. Doubtless
the memory of her old home was ever present with her, even amongst the
beauties of Kapiti; and, when the partition of the country was being
spoken of in the _kaingas_, she urged Te Whetu to take her back
to the banks of the Manawatu, where she might be once more with her
friends and relatives. In deference to this wish, Te Whetu brought her
to a little settlement named Te Iwi te Kari, near Foxton. With them
came the Ngati-Wehiwehi _hapu_, bringing the prisoners whom they
had taken eighteen months before, and together they occupied the
district around Matai-Kona.
The Manawatu was still well stocked with Rangitane, for many of their
larger settlements in the upper portion of the district had not been
so completely depopulated as some of the more southern _pas_ by
the captures and slaughters of the marauding northerners. The
presence of the Ngati-Raukawa in the midst of their country put no
check upon their freedom, and, according to their ancient custom, they
moved about from one _kainga_ to another at their pleasure. Indeed,
the relations between the Rangitane and Ngati-Raukawa appear to have
been of the most friendly nature after the return of the captives from
Kapiti, a fact which the former attribute to the marriage of Te Whetu
with their chieftainess, but which in reality was due to the
generosity of the Ngati-Raukawa, who, had they chosen, might have left
nothing but smoking ruins and bleaching bones to tell of the
Rangitane's former existence.
The feeling, however, was not so cordial between the Rangitane and the
natives immediately under the leadership of Te Rauparaha, who allowed
no circumstance to mitigate his extreme desire for revenge; and,
although no pitched battles took place, there were occasional
skirmishes and massacres which served to keep alive the fires of hate.
In like manner he constantly harried the Muaupoko and such members of
the Ngati-Apa tribe as he now and then fell in with, until these
people, feeling life to be unbearable if they were to be hunted like
beasts of prey, decided to place themselves beyond the reach of so
relentless a tormentor. They accordingly, to the number of three
hundred souls, including women and children, determined upon flight
into the Wairarapa; and there they threw themselves upon the mercy of
the Ngati-Kahungunu, who might be expected to display some sympathy
for other victims of the suffering from which they themselves had not
escaped. But here again the hapless people were doomed to a bitter
experience. Instead of being received with the open arms of welcome,
they were cruelly set upon and driven back over the Tararua Ranges,
because of some old and unavenged act of violence which their friends
had committed, but of which they had probably never heard.
Spurned from the only asylum which appeared to be open to them,
Ngati-Apa returned to Rangitikei and sought the protection of
Rangihaeata and Nepia Taratoa, to both of whom they paid tribute for
the right to live. Muaupoko placed themselves under the protecting arm
of a Ngati-Raukawa chief named Tuahine, whose heart was touched by
their destitute and defenceless condition. But his intervention was of
little avail. However willing he might have been--and there is no
reason to doubt his sincerity--he proved quite unable to shield them
against the never-dying wrath of Te Rauparaha. Hearing from some of
the Ngati-Raukawa people that the remnant of the Muaupoko tribe was
once more beginning to gather round the Horowhenua and Papaitonga
lakes, he organised a force of Ngati-Toa, Ngati-Huia and Ngati-Tama
warriors, and marched upon Papaitonga in defiance of the vehement
protests of Tuahine and many other Ngati-Raukawa chiefs, who wished to
have done with this incessant slaughter. This lake, which covers an
area of about one hundred and twenty-five acres, lies a few miles to
the southward of Horowhenua. From time immemorial it had been the home
of the Muaupoko tribe, by whom it was originally called Waiwiri, but
in more recent days the name of the larger of the two gem-like islands
encircled by its waters has been applied to the whole lake.
Papaitonga, which signifies, "the islet of the South," is a name which
reveals in bright relief the poetic fancy of the Maori; for, even now,
when its scenic charms have to some extent succumbed to the demands of
settlement, the lake and its surroundings still present one of the
most charming beauty spots in the whole Dominion. A deep fringe of
tree-ferns and underwood, backed by a dense forest of native bush,
skirts its north and northeast shores. Southward, through occasional
breaches in the woods, can be seen the open undulating ground,
gradually rising until it reaches the foot of the Tararuas, whose
snow-capped peaks seem to touch the azure sky. Westward, stretching
away to the sea, are the low flats over which meanders the
slow-winding Waiwiri stream, which forms the outlet of the lake. Here
the visitor is indeed on classic ground, for there is scarcely a
feature of the landscape which has not, for the Maori, some historic
association, some tragic story, some deepening memory of the hoary
past. To this day the island of Papaitonga, so restful with its
luxuriant crown of soft foliage, but which in the days of old was a
sanguinary battle-ground, remains "a perfect necropolis of human
bones," lying concealed beneath a living shroud of vegetation, which
has silently risen to obscure from human sight the gruesome evidence
of human savagery.
It was to this spot that Te Rauparaha now, in 1827-28, led his
warriors, arriving there late in the afternoon. His first care was
effectually to surround the lake. This he did by posting strong
detachments of men at various points, the reason for this disposition
being a doubt as to which direction the fugitives would take in their
flight, which rendered it expedient to intercept them at every
possible avenue of escape. Ten men were then left in concealment near
the canoe-landing, the smallness of the number being designed to
deceive the inhabitants of the island, who at this time numbered
several hundred. It was arranged that these men should, in the early
morning, call to the people on the island to bring them a canoe, the
intention being to create the impression in the minds of the islanders
that they were a party of friends. Accordingly, when those in the _pa_
began to be astir, Te Riu called out to Kahurangi:--
"_E Kahu, e! Hoea mai te waka ki au. Ko tou tangata tenei._" (O Kahu,
bring over a canoe for me, I am your man.)
Either the call was not heard, or a lurking suspicion forbade a ready
compliance with the request, for no movement was made by the islanders
in the direction desired until Te Riu had called again:--
"_Hoea mai te waka, kia maua ko to tangata. Ko Te Ruru tenei._" (Send
a canoe for me and your friend. Te Ruru is here.)
This last appeal was not without avail. A chief named Takare ordered
two men to paddle a canoe across and bring Te Ruru to the island, at
the same time impressing upon them the need of keeping a sharp
lookout on shore to prevent unpleasant surprises. No sooner had the
canoe put off than two of the Ngati-Toa divested themselves of their
clothing, and waded out amongst the _raupo_ flags which grew near the
landing, keeping only their heads above the water. One was armed with
a tomahawk, and the other with a stone club known as an onewa, and
their mission was to prevent the return of the canoe, should the men
who brought it refuse to take the party on board. On came the canoe;
but when passing the bulrushes, the rowers, who were peering
cautiously about, detected the heads of the two men amongst the
_raupo_, and in an instant the conviction of treachery flashed upon
them. The man in the stern of the canoe excitedly called to his
companion to shove off; but Whakatupu, the Ngati-Toa, was too quick
for him. Springing from his concealment, he laid hold of the bow of
the canoe and began to haul it towards the landing. The Muaupoko
nearest to him made a lunge at his head with the paddle, but Whakatupu
skilfully parried the thrust with his short-handled axe, and then,
turning upon his assailant, with an unerring blow cleft his skull, and
sent the lifeless body reeling back into the water. When the man in
the stern of the canoe saw the fate of his companion, he immediately
leaped overboard, and dived, coming to the surface again well out of
the reach of the enemy. By diving and swimming, he at length succeeded
in reaching the shore, where he concealed himself amongst some low
brushwood, only to find that he had been tracked, and that it was his
fate to be shot by Aperahama.
The report of the gun, echoing through the silent bush and across the
face of the placid lake, was the signal to the concealed warriors that
the day's work had commenced, and to the unhappy islanders the
announcement that the dogs of war had again been let loose upon them.
They instantly prepared for flight, for to men without guns resistance
was hopeless, even had it been possible. While they were swarming into
their canoes, their panic was considerably accelerated by the sight
of a Ngati-Huia warrior swimming towards the island discharging his
musket as he swam. He had tied his cartouche box round his neck, and
with his hands he loaded and re-loaded his gun, while he propelled
himself through the water by his legs. When he reached the island, the
inhabitants had already left, and were making for the shore. Here they
were met by a deadly fusilade from one of Te Rauparaha's detachments,
who were quietly waiting for them. They then turned their canoes, and
made an effort to land at another point, only to be driven back by a
second attack as disastrous as the first. Attempt after attempt was
made to land, and here and there a strong swimmer or a swift runner
succeeded in escaping; but the harvest of death was heavy, the bulk of
the people, including all the chiefs, being shot. "As for the few who
escaped," says a native account, "some took refuge at Horowhenua, and
others fled to the mountains. After the fall of Papaitonga, the war
party went on to Horowhenua, where there was more killing. Driven from
there, the Muaupoko fugitives crossed over to Weraroa and fled to the
hills. Then the war party returned to Papaitonga. What followed was
according to Maori custom, but who would care to tell of it? I have a
horror of that part of the story. If you want to know, ask the old men
of the Ngati-Toa--Ngahuku, Tungia, and the others. That is all."
Amongst those who were slain in this fight was Toheriri,[75] a
Muaupoko chief, whose wife was inspired by the occasion to compose a
lament in which she mourned the death of her husband, and implied that
Tuahine had broken his pledge by exposing her people to the raid. But,
in justice to that chief, it has to be admitted that he was entirely
powerless to interpose on their behalf; while, on the other hand, the
whole incident serves to show how ruthlessly Te Rauparaha cherished
his desire for revenge, and how inadequate he considered the lapse of
time and the slaughter of hundreds to satisfy the _manes_ of his
children murdered by Muaupoko at Papaitonga.
So Muaupoko died--or what was left of them lived, and were suffered to
retain some of their lands around Horowhenua Lake. Pathetic laments
for their lost lands and their departed _mana_ have been
composed, and are still sung amongst them. One chanted by Taitoko in a
lamentation over the dead of his tribe is universally known and sung
by the Maoris of the coast:--
"The sun is setting,
Drawn to his ocean cave--
Sinking o'er the peak of Pukehinau.
Here wild with grief am I,
Lonely as the bird in the
Great waste of waters.
Wait, wait awhile, O Sun,
And we'll go down together."
[48] "It is not unusual for the natural _ariki_, or chief of a
_hapu_, to be, in some respects, supplanted by an inferior chief,
unless the hereditary power of the former happens to be accompanied by
intellect and bravery" (_Travers_).
[49] I have here followed the narrative of Travers; but, in his
_History and Traditions of the Taranaki Coast_ Mr. Percy Smith
makes it appear that at the moment of migration Te Ariwi was being
besieged; that the exodus was not premeditated, but was suggested to
Te Rauparaha by a Waikato chief as the only means of escape, and that
the evacuation of the _pa_ was carried out at night. As affording
an interesting sidelight upon the diversity of opinion which prevails
as to the cause of Te Rauparaha's migration, I here append the
following note which I have received from Mr. H. M. Stowell, a
descendant of the great Hongi. "There is one striking Rauparaha fact
which has not yet been properly given: Rauparaha had become a pest
among his own people, and they warned him to beware--this at his
Kawhia home. Consequently, when the _taua_, or war party, of my
people, under Waka Nene and his brother Patuone, arrived at Kawhia on
their way south, and invited Te Rauparaha to join them, he was only
too willing. He was in personal danger at home, and he could only lose
his life, at the worst, by coming south. He therefore came. When the
war parties returned to Kawhia, Rauparaha at once gave out to his
people that he intended to move south permanently. This being so, his
people did not take any steps to molest him, and in due course he came
south. These facts are important, as showing that his coming south was
not a mere whim or accident; on the contrary, it was imperative,
because he had made himself obnoxious to his own people."
[50] John White, _Ancient History of the Maori_.
[51] This woman was one of the wives whom Te Rauparaha had taken over
after the death of Hape Taurangi at Maungatautari.
[52] On the way down one disaster overtook the party. In the passage
of the Mokau a canoe capsized and the only child of Te Rangihaeata was
drowned. It was due to this circumstance that Rangihaeata in after
years sometimes adopted the name of Mokau.
[53] During the night a peculiar incident, illustrative of Maori life
at this period, occurred. One of the women, the wife of a chief, had a
child with her, which, in its restlessness, began to cry. Te Rauparaha,
fearing that his stratagem would be betrayed by the wailing of the
child, told its mother to choke it, saying, "I am that child." The
parents at once obeyed the command, and strangled the child.
[54] As illustrating the peculiar methods of Maori warfare, it is said
that during the night following this battle Te Wherowhero came close
to the Ngati-Toa camp and called out: "Oh Raha, how am I and my people
to be saved?" To which Te Rauparaha replied: "You must go away this
very night. Do not remain. Go; make haste." Following this advice, the
Waikatos left the field, leaving their fires burning, and when the
Ngati-Awa reinforcements arrived in the morning, no enemy was to be
seen.
[55] This is according to Travers's account. Some authorities say that
Pomare could not have been there at that time.
[56] Afterwards a thorn in Te Rauparaha's side: the saviour of
Wellington in 1843, and the honourable opponent of the British forces
in the Waitara war in 1860.
[57] Between the years 1863-69 a violent dispute raged between the
Ngati-Raukawa and Ngati-Apa tribes as to their respective rights to
sell a valuable block of land known as Rangitikei-Manawatu to the
Provincial Government. Ngati-Raukawa claimed the land on the ground of
conquest, while Ngati-Apa urged that the marriage of Pikinga, their
chieftainess, with Rangihaeata was a bond between them and Te
Rauparaha, which induced him to protect rather than to destroy them.
Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeata were furious when they heard of these
pretensions, and severely upbraided Ngati-Raukawa for not having
permitted them to exterminate Ngati-Apa, whom they described as "the
remnant of their meal."
[58] Te Uira was at this time the wife of Te Poa, who was killed at
this massacre. Hononga was Te Rauparaha's daughter by his second wife,
Kahui-rangi.
[59] Now Wellington.
[60] This decision, it is said, was taken partly because they took
umbrage at Te Rauparaha's overbearing manner, and partly because they
had heard that another Waikato raid upon Taranaki was imminent. This
was in the year 1823.
[61] This would be about the year 1824.
[62] This force, to the number of 120, was led by Te Ahu-karamu, a
chief who afterwards became a prominent and progressive leader of the
Maori people on the west coast.
[63] Called by the early European settlers "Jackeytown."
[64] Kerei te Panau was at this time a lad of about ten years of age,
and probably owes the fact that he lived to be about ninety-four years
of age to this flight across the river in the canoes.
[65] _Atua_--a god.
[66] This migration is known to the Ngati-Raukawa tribe as the _Heke
Whirinui_, owing to the fact that the _whiri_, or plaited
collars of their mats, were made very large for the journey.
[67] For this purpose, he and Te Heuheu returned to Taupo, some of the
party passing across the Manawatu block, so as to strike the
Rangitikei River inland, whilst the others travelled along the beach
to the mouth of that river, intending to join the inland party some
distance up. The inland party rested at Rangataua, where a female
relative of Te Heuheu, famed for her extreme beauty, died of wounds
inflicted upon her during the journey by a stray band of Ngati-Apa. A
great _tangi_ was held over her remains, and Te Heuheu caused her
head to be preserved, he himself calcining her brains and strewing the
ashes over the ground, which he declared to be for ever _tapu_.
His people were joined by the party from the beach road at the
junction of the Waituna with the Rangitikei, where the chief was
presented with three Ngati-Apa prisoners. These were immediately
sacrificed, and then the whole party resumed the journey to Taupo.
Amongst the special events which occurred on the march was the capture
of a Ngati-Apa woman and two children on the south side of the
Rangitikei River. The unfortunate children were sacrificed during the
performance of some solemn religious rite, and the woman, though in
the first instance saved by Te Heuheu, who wished to keep her as a
slave, was killed and eaten by Tangaru, one of the Ngati-Raukawa
leaders. Shortly after this, Te Whiro, one of the greatest of the
Ngati-Apa chiefs, with two women, were taken prisoners, and the former
was put to death with great ceremony and cruelty, as _utu_ for
the loss of some of Te Heuheu's people who had been killed by
Ngati-Apa long before, but the women were saved (_Travers_).
[68] The native trade consisted of dressed flax and various kinds of
fresh provisions, including potatoes, which, prior to the advent of
the Ngati-Toa tribe, had not been planted on the west coast of the
North Island.
[69] The words which Te Pehi is reported to have used were "Go Europe,
see King Georgi." Dr. John Savage in his _Account of New Zealand_,
refers to the apparent preference which the natives had for the word
Europe over that of England. He says of a native whom he took to
London with him, from the Bay of Islands: "I never could make
Mayhanger pronounce the word England, therefore I was content to allow
him to make use of Europe instead, which he pronounced without
difficulty." Possibly Te Pehi experienced the same difficulty of
pronunciation.
[70] The Maori became popular in the _Urania_, and at Monte Video
plunged into the sea and rescued the drowning captain, who had fallen
overboard (_Rusden_).
[71] Captain Reynolds was allowed a sum of £200 by the British
Government as compensation for the trouble and expense to which he had
been put by his enforced alliance with Te Pehi (see _N.Z. Historical
Records_). The account of the chief's visit to England will be
found in the volume of The _Library of Entertaining Knowledge_ for
1830.
[72] One of the migrations which took place about this time consisted
of 140 Ngati-Raukawa men under the leadership of Nepia Taratoa. It is
known in history as the _Heke Kariritahi_, from the fact that
those warriors who were armed with muskets had hit upon the shrewd
plan of enlarging the touch-holes of their guns, in order to save the
time which otherwise would be occupied in priming. They were thus able
to keep up a much more rapid fire upon the enemy. Te Whatanui came
down with this _heke_, to consult further with Te Rauparaha, but
finding him absent from Kapiti, he returned to Taupo to prepare for
the migration of his own people.
[73] During the hearing by the Native Land Court in 1869 of the
dispute which arose between the Ngati-Raukawa and Ngati-Apa tribes as
to the right to sell the Rangitikei-Manawatu block of land to the
Provincial Government of Wellington, Chief Judge Fenton remarked to
Mr. Travers, who was appearing for Ngati-Raukawa, "The fact is, Mr.
Travers, it appears to me that the flaw in your clients' title is that
they did not kill and eat all these people."
[74] At times there were many whalers there--as many as a hundred--of
various nations. Here they stayed while whales came near the coast:
but when these ceased to come near the coast, the whalers went out on
the ocean, and the ships which were full of oil went each to its own
land, and Rauparaha went back to his people and home at Kapiti
(_Ngati-Toa account_).
[75] Toheriri was prominent in the conspiracy of 1822 in connection
with the gift of canoes. After that event, he, with his particular
_hapu_, went to the Wairarapa for two years, and then returned to
Papaitonga, where he was killed on this occasion, it is said, with
great barbarity.