The dawn light awoke Massinger, who, since his arrival in New Zealand,
had cultivated the virtuous habit of early rising, considering it to be
one of the necessary attributes of a hardy colonist. Like others who
have been educated by circumstances to the practice, he found so many
advantages accruing from it, that he resolved to continue it. Hence,
though a sufficient sleeper in the early watches of the night, he began
to be automatically awakened at daybreak.
A glance around revealed the unfamiliar circumstances of his
environment. Of the various groups which had constituted the village
community on the previous night, by far the greater number were silent,
or slumbering in the _whares_. An occasional figure raising itself from
the recumbent position showed that he was not the only wakeful one in
the _kainga_. Half-forgotten tales of Indian warfare, recurred to his
memory, where the hero, desiring to escape from captivity, looks upon
much the same scene as that which lay before him. He could not but
feel that he and Warwick were entirely at the mercy of the warriors
who composed the greater part of the _hapu_ there assembled. The turn
of a straw, in the electrical condition of the political atmosphere,
might lead to bloodshed, involving a declaration of war. The first
reverse would doubtless throw the Maori people into such a state of
wrath and exasperation, that, even against the policy of their chiefs,
irresponsible members of the tribe might be tempted to sacrifice
isolated parties of the invading race.
The prospect of a journey by unknown paths through a trackless
wilderness, with however fair a goal, did not look so alluring as when
associated overnight with the witchery of Erena Mannering's eyes and
wonderfully expressive countenance, which hardly needed the translation
of her thoughts into words.
However, the die was cast. He had given his sanction to the affair; and
Roland Massinger was not the man under such circumstances to go back an
inch from his word. Before dressing for the day, he took advantage of
the proximity of the river for a bath, a preliminary step which, when
circumstances permitted, he never omitted. While descending the slope
which led to the river bank, he was joined by Warwick, who came leaping
along the steep descent like a mountain deer. Arrayed in a pyjama suit
only, which indicated the symmetry of his magnificent figure, his
employer could not avoid admiration at his grand and striking presence.
Taller by several inches than himself, his muscular development was
exceptionally fine, while his activity, as evidenced by the constancy
of his pace, and the ease with which he mounted and descended the most
precipitous hills, clearing the smaller running streams with hardly an
apparent effort, was truly abnormal.
A sure and deadly shot, he made excellent practice with the navy
revolver which he carried in his belt. So that, in addition to his
general knowledge of the people and the country, Massinger rightly
judged that he might have searched far before finding so perfect a
pathfinder; at the same time, a comrade of courage and resource, on
whom he might rely in the hour of need.
By the time they had fully refreshed themselves in the rushing tide
of the Huka, they discovered that a considerable body of spectators
had gathered on the higher terrace which commanded the spot which they
had chosen for their ablutions. As they passed through the crowd now
collected between them and their _whares_, from time to time such words
were heard as, "_Kapai te Pakeha, kapai!_" "_Kapai te Rangatira!_"
but all was in the nature of compliment to the travellers, and more
particularly the pakeha, or white stranger. Warwick they appeared to
regard as akin to them, and therefore not possessing the charm of
mystery. Food was then brought, more than sufficient in quantity, and
by no means to be despised by men whose appetite had been sharpened by
a toilsome day's journey and the eager air of this antarctic wilderness.
The traveller had bread, and even butter, in his packs. With these
aids, and, of course, quart-pot tea, the repast, if wanting in
delicacy, was yet ample and satisfactory. After its completion, and
the lighting of the after-breakfast pipe, he felt fully equal to the
inauguration of the expedition, and awaited somewhat impatiently the
appearance of the tutelar divinity.
"How about the maiden fair? Do you think she has changed her mind,
Warwick?"
"Another woman might, but not Erena," said the guide, with an air of
conviction. "Before long she will come round the corner of that hill. I
dare say she'll have some of her people with her. She's an aristocrat
in her way."
"I should think she was," said the other, with an air of entire
conviction. "She should be a most interesting study. Are there many
more of the intellectual daughter of the soil sort, in these woods and
forests? She is like Rosalind in the forest of Arden, but there does
not appear to be an Orlando so far. I shall be anxious to see the other
damsels."
"There will be two, if not three, with her today. One of her male
cousins is a fellow whose company I'd rather not have now, or at any
time; said to be an admirer of hers, which makes him more objectionable
still. Here they come, however, with Erena marching ahead like a queen!
Three girls, and a young fellow who's been educated at sea, with this
sulky brute Ngarara--confound _him_ very particularly!--bringing up the
rear."
As Warwick had foretold, the little party came round the corner of the
mount and made straight for the centre of the village. By this time the
grey mare had been brought up and saddled. Upon her the various packs
were placed, to the great interest and excitement of the youth of the
community, who gathered round and commented freely upon the _personnel_
and otherwise of the expedition. Discovering by experience that, with
some additions, the mare was sufficiently weighted, and that riding in
such a country was more trouble than it was worth, her owner elected
to travel on foot, like the rest of the party. This would leave him
more at liberty to examine the botanical and geological features of
the strange region upon which they were entering. The position, too,
would be more dignified than riding at a foot pace, pushing his way
through entangling thickets. Besides all this, he would, in right of
his position as head and paymaster of the expedition, be entitled to
take his place alongside of the most interesting personage. Thus, in
the daily march, he would enjoy the original converse of an unspoiled
daughter of Eve, fresh from Nature's bosom, unhackneyed by the
artifices and conventional deceits of the children of the world.
He walked forward and greeted the forest maiden, who smiled frankly and
held out her hand, which he took with becoming _empressement_. In one
comprehensive glance at her, before he relinquished it, he noted the
details of her dress and equipment. Her figure, statuesque in every
curve and line as the Venus of Milo, was scarcely concealed by the robe
which, thrown across the chest and upper arm, revealed in part the
outline of her classic bust, while affording full play to every motion
of the arms and hands. A species of kirtle, coming below the knee, left
her lower limbs free and unconfined. Her feet were bare, the smallness
of which, as well as the delicate moulding of the limbs, betrayed her
British ancestry.
Perfectly attired for travel through the steep ascents, the treacherous
morasses and dense woodland of her native land, as with sparkling eyes
and gladsome expression she walked forth at the head of the little
party, Massinger thought he had never before seen a more perfect
presentment of the nymph of the legends of Hellas.
"We must say good-bye to the chief," she said; "it is _tika_--due and
proper respect. Besides, if we leave without the paper he promised me
we may have trouble."
They accordingly marched up to the chief's abode, upon which the
venerable warrior walked forward to meet them. He spoke a few words to
Warwick, who replied in his own tongue.
"Is the pakeha's heart strong to journey to the hot lakes and the
burning earth, and does he not fear the warriors of Te Heu Heu who will
be in his path?"
"The pakeha is a _toa_," replied the guide. "He fears no man. With his
_tuparra_ he can shoot men as far as he can see them, and he has a
pocket-gun, which carries six men's lives, in his belt. So have I."
"No doubt the pakeha will fight," said the chief, "but bullets come
from the bush sometimes. The hearts of my people are not sore, and I
pray that peace may be kept. Here is the paper which I promised to the
white rangatira. It will show Te Heu Heu and his people that he is not
a man to be treated like a runaway sailor; and if they have doubts,
Erena must speak to them. Her voice is like the flute of Tutekane, and
they cannot but listen."
So the expedition departed on its way, Roland and Erena walking ahead.
One of the younger Maoris, at a word from Warwick, took the bridle of
the grey, and followed in the rear; while the others of the party,
including the surly Ngarara, who regarded Roland with a fixed and
sinister gaze, took up the trail and plunged into the forest.
Their path led for some miles along the course of a narrow but swift
and deep rivulet, until at length it became necessary to cross it at
a gravelly ford. Then he saw the advantage which Erena possessed in
being without shoes and stockings. She calmly waded in without damage
to her attire, and tripped up the opposite bank. While Massinger was
speculating as to whether he should unlace his boots, and so save the
necessity of going in wet ones for the remainder of the day, Warwick
made a sign to one of the men, who without further ado "made a back,"
as in schoolboy days, taking him up thereon and across the stream, as
if he had been one in good earnest. This feat accomplished, the party
proceeded as before, through the primeval forest. It began now to be
apparent that the difficulties of the way were likely to increase
rather than to diminish.
The flax swamps appeared to become deeper and more treacherous, the
hills to be higher, the path less easy to distinguish, the thickets
more dense, and the thorn bushes more clinging and obstructive. Through
all these obstacles and hindrances the Maori maiden seemed to glide
like a disembodied spirit, keeping up a pace the while which taxed
Massinger's powers more shrewdly than he would have believed possible.
He was a good pedestrian, proud of his speed and stamina, but he had to
confess to himself that this damsel and her attendants made the pace
considerably better than he would have believed possible through such
a country. Uphill or down made no difference, apparently, to them.
Warwick marched in the rear, and kept an eye on the man who was leading
the packhorse, any accident to which, in flood or marsh, would have
made a serious difference in the comfort of the party.
Massinger was not, therefore, displeased when, after scaling a higher
hill than they had as yet encountered, Erena pointed to a wide expanse
of champaign--more extensive, indeed, than he was beginning to think he
was likely to see again--and said--
"Here we stop for an hour. I dare say you will like a rest."
He did not care to acknowledge that he had been nearly outpaced by
this young woman and her wildwood friends, but looking at her before
he answered, he noticed a mirthful twinkle in her dark eyes, which
convinced him that she comprehended fully the humour of the situation.
"I am afraid you have been trying whether this pakeha can walk,"
he said, as she smiled archly. "Your country is not easy, and I am
scarcely in training. But in a few days I will match myself against any
of your people to run, jump, or walk for a wager."
"You must not do that with these natives," said she, gravely. "You
would lose your _mana_, as we say, if you, a _rangatira_ of the
pakehas, engaged in contests of sport with the common people. However,
some day you may have a chance of trying your speed against them.
Warwick will tell you the same thing."
"Between your instructions and his, I shall soon know everything that
is necessary for my good."
"Oh! he is very clever, and a _toa_ as well--that is, a known athlete
or warrior. There has been no fighting since Heki's war in 1845, or he
would have distinguished himself in that way, I feel sure."
"And now, tell me, do _you_ think there is any danger of war breaking
out, as some people think?"
"There _will_ be war," replied the girl, fixing her eyes upon him with
a sad and boding expression, "if the Governor takes the Waitara block
by force. The chief thinks so too. He has remonstrated against it,
though he will fight for your Queen to the death, and lead his tribe,
the great tribe of the Ngapuhi, against her enemies."
"It is a pity it cannot be avoided; but, after all, there are worse
things than war."
"If there are, I do not know them," said this Egeria of the South. "I
have not seen a Maori war, but if you had heard the things I have heard
you would never speak lightly of one of the most awful things in the
world."
"Then I hope there will _not_ be war," said Massinger, with a smile.
"Personally, I suppose the sooner I get over to Rotorua and back to
Auckland the better it will be. But whatever happens, I shall always
thank the fates that sent me on this particular journey."
"Then you are pleased, even now," she said. "Oh, I am so glad!" and
coming nearer to him, she took both his hands in hers, and, with a
gesture of childish simplicity, pressed them warmly, gazing into his
face with a look of frank delight, as might a sister thanking a brother
for a birthday gift.
He had never met this type of womanhood before, and might have well
been pardoned if he had misunderstood the feelings which appeared to
actuate this woodland sylph. But possessing, as he did, a sympathetic
insight into the higher nature of women, he judged correctly that she
was merely pleased with his approval of her presence and companionship.
As she withdrew her hands in a natural and instinctive fashion, while
the blush which mantled under her clear brown skin showed that she felt
herself to have overpassed the conventional line of courtesy, he half
turned towards their attendants, who in Indian file were following up
their footsteps. The Maori Ngarara was foremost on the trail, and must
have noticed their attitude. For one brief moment his countenance wore
the impress of all the darker passions, then relapsed into its usual
expression of sullen dissatisfaction.
"We must descend now," said she, after their meal was ended. "I will
promise not to go so fast for a while; you will find the evening walk
quite a saunter after this morning."
"And why, may I ask, did you make the pace so good then?"
"I had a reason, a good one," she replied; "I did not hear about it
till we were half way, or I should most certainly never have come this
route at all. Did you observe a Maori woman come up for a few minutes,
speak to Warwick, and go away?"
"Yes. I thought she might have some connection with the bearers. I
hardly knew whether she stayed with them or disappeared. Did she bring
a message?"
"Yes, and a most important one, too. That's why I pushed on at such
a rate. If we had been nearer home, I should have returned; but the
retreat would have been more dangerous than an advance."
"How can that be?"
"That woman ran twenty miles to warn me that Taratoa was out with a
_taua_--a war expedition. She said the natives believed that the war
was all but declared. Now, as Warwick will tell you, this Taratoa is
one of the most turbulent and bloodthirsty chiefs of his ruthless
tribe; and that is saying a good deal. He might--I don't say that he
would, but it is quite possible--think it a fine chance of increasing
his _mana_ by killing the first pakeha, which would mean the _mataika_
in the war--a most coveted distinction."
"What a ruffian! But 'dans la guerre c'est la guerre.' Pardon me for
quoting the French proverb."
"Mais, monsieur, je le comprend parfaitement," she returned for answer,
with a mock obeisance. "You must remember that there are here French as
well as English colonists. And besides, I spent a year at Akaroa long
ago, which, as all the world knows--the New Zealand world, I mean--was
at one time a French settlement."
Massinger bowed with all the grace he could muster, and apologized
for thinking it impossible that a New Zealand girl was conversant
with French. "You remind me," he said, "of the Admiral in 'Singleton
Fontenoy,' a naval novel of a later day than good old Captain Marryat.
He asks one of the middies, when before Acre, if he spoke Turkish.
"'No, sir. Oh no! what made you think so?'"
"'Well, you youngsters seem to have learned everything nowadays. I
thought you might know that among other languages.'"
She laughed at this with the unreserved merriment which characterized
her when not serious or mournful, which, indeed, was the ordinary
expression of her features when in repose.
"You had better ask Warwick if _he_ understands Turkish. He knows most
things. We must consult with him as to what is best to be done, when we
camp. But I think we had better push on to the Lakes, where we shall be
in the territory of Te Heu Heu. He will protect us."
So they fared on. Through flax swamps, where the sodden soil was often
midleg deep; anon through rushing ice-cold streams, where there was
difficulty in keeping footing, even when in no great depth of water;
up the rugged sides of mountains, where the narrow path lay between
the century-old pines, knee-high in bracken, and was occasionally
obstructed by the fallen mass of some patriarch of the forest, which
forbade direct progress.
Meanwhile, this wood-nymph and her attendants, the latter of whom
carried burdens of no mean weight, tripped onward swiftly, as if
the ordinary difficulties of such a journey were hardly worthy of
notice. Erena sped along like a votary of the huntress Diana. Few
obstacles made any noticeable difference to her pace, as she glided,
at the head of the party, with serene self-confidence--a marvel of
grace, swiftness, and endurance. Scarcely less was he stricken with
admiration at the courage and activity of the humbler members of the
party, particularly the women. They carried their burdens over the
difficulties of the road with unflinching perseverance, following in
Indian file the footsteps of Warwick, who occasionally made a detour,
when he thought it advantageous.
"What astonishing infantry a race like this would furnish!" thought
Massinger. "Amid these forests, reasonably drilled and armed, in a
guerilla war they could stand against the best troops in the world!
Sheltered by these ancient woods, the breast-high bracken, these
thickets impervious to all men but themselves, what chance would
disciplined troops have against them? I hope to Heaven that we may
never have to war with them _à l'outrance_. A succession of skirmishes
would not matter so much, but a prolonged war would be one of the most
expensive, and in some respects disastrous, on record."
He was recalled from these reflections by the voice of the guide,
who had fallen back, and stood at some short distance, awaiting an
opportunity to speak.
"I have halted the party," he said, "for we have no great distance to
go, and may travel in a leisurely manner. We shall soon have our first
sight of Taupo and commence to open out the hot lake country, with all
the wonders of which you have heard."
"I am not sorry," said Massinger; "for though nothing could be more
to my taste than our present form of journeying, yet I must confess
to feeling impatient to behold these marvels that are in every one's
mouth. I hope I shall not be disappointed."
"If so, you will be the first to confess it," said Warwick. "I have
seen them many times, but they always fill me with fresh wonder and
admiration. Nothing, in some respects, is equal to them in the world, I
believe. 'See Rotomahana and die,' may well be said."
"When I do see it, it will be well described. Between Erena and
yourself, I shall lose no part of legend or tradition."
"She is far better at the legendary business than I am," said Warwick.
"She has such a wonderful memory, and knows all the old tales and
_waiatas_ by heart. I tell her she should write a _pukapuka_ about
the place and the people. One is just as strange as the other."
"I think I must," said the subject of their conversation, who had
now approached, after concluding a colloquy with the women of the
expedition. "It seems hard that so many of these legends should be
lost. When I was a child, they used to be sung and repeated at every
camp fire. Now they are on the way to be forgotten. My father was
always promising to make a collection of them, but they strayed into
'By-and-by Street, which leads to the House of Never.'"
Massinger smiled. "I know that street myself, I must confess; but
while I live in your country it shall be _tapu_. The land of _Maui_ is
the place, and this year of grace the appointed time, for my work and
adventure."
"And if there should be war?" said she, regarding him with a searching
look, not wholly, as he thought, without a shade of doubt.
"All the more reason," he replied. "There is such a scarcity of honest
fighting nowadays, that it will be a treat to face the real thing in
one's own person."
For one instant an answering smile lit up her face as she gazed at
Massinger, who unconsciously drew himself up and raised his head, as
though fronting an advancing column. She sighed, as she came forward,
and lightly touching his shoulder, looked wistfully into his face.
"You love war; it is in your blood. So do my people; it is the breath
of their nostrils. My father, too, is a war-chief of the Ngapuhi, and
fought with them in the old wars. But if you had ever seen Maoris in or
after a battle, you would think you were in a land of demons, not men."
"A man can only die once. Your tribe, too, is on our side, is it not? I
can't think the hostile natives will stand long before regular troops."
"Look at that bush," she said, pointing to a dense thicket of _Koreao_,
where all sorts of horizontal climbers and clingers seemed struggling
for the mastery, and into which the van of the little _cortége_ had
cast themselves, and gliding through, apparently without effort, had in
part disappeared. "How do you think that a company of a regiment would
advance or retreat, with Ngarara" (that amiable savage had just passed
from view) "and a few hundreds of his tribe firing at you from behind
it?"
"To tell truth, I think Ngarara would rather like it now, if he could
get the chance; but I am a fair snapshot, and would try for first pull.
However, we won't anticipate disagreeables. How far is Rotomahana? I am
dying to see the terraces."
"You pakehas are always gay," she said. "Perhaps it is better to
enjoy while we may. I wish I could do so. But our _Tohunga_ has been
prophesying, and his words have cast a shadow over my mind, which I
vainly try to resist."
"But surely your education has taught you to despise superstitious
fears?"
"My reason does so; but the senses revolt, strange as it may seem. I
cannot get away from a dread of impending evil. My father, who has
Highland blood in his veins, calls it the 'second sight.'"
"I have heard of it; and what did the seer foretell? Is he known to be
a true prophet?" queried her companion.
"Wonderful as it may appear, he has been seldom wrong. This time
he predicts war--bloody and doubtful. Our tribe, though sometimes
defeated, is to be victorious. He counsels them to keep a straight
path."
The next day's journey was over a different route. The forest, with
its over-arching tree-tops and deep cool glades, lay behind them. They
had entered upon a region of barren and desolate sand wastes, of which
the neutral-tinted surface was varied by scarped over-hanging bluffs.
In these, a red-ochreous conglomerate gave a weird and fantastic
appearance to the landscape.
Halting towards evening, where the winding road by which they had been
ascending appeared to decline towards a wide valley, Erena silently
directed Massinger's attention to the far-stretching and varied view,
adding, "You are about to descend into the land of wonders, and the
kingdom of mysterious sights and sounds, with heaven above. As to
below, what shall I say?"
He smiled as he answered, "It is only to look around, to convince
one's self that we are on the border of a dread and unreal region.
Look at that volcanic cone, splashed with shades of red, emitting
steam from every point of its scarred sides and summit. And those
snow-capped mountains, grand and awful in their loneliness, gazing, as
one would dream over a ruined world, themselves awaiting only the final
conflagration."
"Very awful, terrible--infernal even, it seems to me sometimes," said
Erena. "I cannot help wondering how long it will be before these
imprisoned fires burst through, and, in rending their way to upper air,
destroy the heedless people who live so cheerfully on a mere crust. But
we must get down into this valley of Waiotapu, where we camp for the
night. There will be such a sight-seeing tomorrow in store for us, that
we shall hardly be able to move in the evening. Blue lakes and green
lakes will be the least of the marvels. When I was a child, I used to
think there would be talking fish in them, like those of the 'Arabian
Nights,' which stood on their tails in the frying-pan."
"What a dear old book that is!" exclaimed he; "how I used to delight
in it as a boy! Now I think of it, this region has a good deal of the
Sindbad the Sailor business about it. I shouldn't wonder if we came to
a loadstone mountain, which would draw all our steel and iron articles
into it, like the nails in Sindbad's ship! It would be lovely to see
everything take flight through the air, from the axes and revolvers to
the old mare's shoes."
The girl smiled at this extravagance, but relapsed into her expression
of habitual seriousness as she answered, "Who knows but that we may
want the revolvers? At any moment war may break out. We are like the
Rotorua natives, I am afraid, walking on thin crust."
"I have skated on thin ice before now," he said, "but water and
fire are different things. It seems uncanny to be on land where your
walking-stick smokes if you poke it more than an inch into the soil. So
this is the famous and sacred valley!"
"Here we are," said Warwick, who now joined them, "and I am not sorry.
This sandy road takes it out of one ever so much more than the forest
country. Our autumn sun, too, is fairly hot at midday. The _Wahines_
felt it, carrying their loads up some of the hills."
"They seem to me to be given the heaviest packs," said Massinger,
rather indignantly. "Why doesn't that hulking fellow Ngarara carry part
of one at any rate?"
"Well, you see, he is a chief and has 'no back'--that is to say, he is
absolved from bearing burdens. His person is sacred to that extent. I
don't like him personally, but he is within his rights."
"I should like to kick him," said the Englishman; "he wants some of the
nonsense taken out of him."
"I shouldn't advise any hasty act," said Warwick, looking grave. "He
is a person of some consequence, and you would bring the whole tribe
down upon us, as they would consider themselves insulted in his person;
particularly now, as no one knows what may happen within a week or two.
As for the women, poor things, they are used to it. They do much of the
work of the tribe, and don't object to fighting on occasion."
"It is too true," said Erena. "I am always ashamed to see the
tremendous loads they carry in the _kumera_ season; and in the
planting, digging, and weeding of those plantations that look so neat
near the _kaingas_, they do far more than their share. I suppose women
in Europe don't work in the fields?"
"Well," returned Massinger, rather taken aback, "I am afraid I must own
that _they do_, now I come to think of it. They hoe turnip and potato
fields, reap and bind in harvest time; and, yes, the fishermen's wives
and the colliers' daughters work--pretty hard, too. In France and
Germany I have often thought they worked harder than the men."
"Ah! I see," said Erena, with a flash of her large dark eyes, illumined
with a sudden fire, which completely altered the expression of her
countenance. "Men are alike in all countries. They take the easy work,
under pretence of responsibility, and leave the drudgery to the poor
women. In one respect, however, we have the advantage. We can speak and
vote in the councils of the tribe."
"You don't say so! I should like to hear you speak in public, above all
things. Have you ever done so?"
"Sometimes," said she, relapsing into seriousness; "and if certain
events come to pass, you may hear me make more than one speech in the
_runanga_ before the year is out."
"How interesting!" he said, gazing at her with admiration, as she stood
in classic pose, with fixed gaze, and every graceful outline denoting
arrested motion.
* * * * *
"I thought it better to strike across to this valley of Waiotapu
first," said Warwick, "though Erena was in favour of going straight to
Rotorua. However, she now agrees with me, that you can have a foretaste
of volcanic action here, and take the main Taupo road to the terraces,
returning by Rotorua, which is the home of the _hapu_, or section of
her tribe."
"It is, after all, the best route, perhaps," said she, smiling frankly.
"You can reach the terraces easily now, and afterwards rest at Rotorua
before returning to Auckland. There is also another reason."
"What is that?" inquired Massinger, as he saw the girl's face change,
and her eyes once more become clouded over with the mysterious sadness
which from time to time dimmed her brightest expression.
"I am nearly certain that there will be an outbreak--perhaps even war
declared--before we return. In that case----"
"In that case I should join the first body of volunteers I could come
at, or your own loyal tribe, if it remains so."
"I have every belief that Waka Nene will remain as true to your people
as he was in the old war, when he fought against Heke, and did such
good work in beating back Kawiti. My mother's brother, a noted chief,
died fighting for your people. But this will bring the tribes nearer
together; they may make common cause against the pakeha. It will be
a fight to the death. Some of the friendly tribes may waver. I would
advise your going to your own people without delay from Rotorua."
"And how about a guide? Warwick may not care to undertake the task in
the face of--what may happen."
"In that case"--and as she spoke, her inmost soul seemed to look forth
in high resolve through the lustrous eyes, now informed with the mystic
fire of the sybil--"I will ensure you a guide who knows the secret
paths even better than Warwick."
Massinger said no more. The countenance of Warwick wore a look of
mingled doubt and admiration, after which he ordered the attendant
natives to make the usual arrangements for a camp.
"We shall need no fire, that is one thing," he said, turning to the
Englishman.
"How is that?" he inquired.
"Nature is good enough to contract for the cooking here, which is the
least she can do before she blows them all up some fine day. Just watch
these people directly."
As indeed he did, much marvelling.
First of all, two of the women cleared a space, about three feet long
and two wide, in the warm earth; into this they placed a layer of
stones, which they covered with leaves. Upon this were placed the pork,
the _kumeras_, and some pigeons shot on the way, all of which were
rapidly and satisfactorily cooked. The evening meal, so miraculously
prepared, as it seemed, having been concluded, Erena retired with her
female attendants, pleading the necessity for a night's rest to prepare
them for the opening day of the Great Exhibition. The two men walked up
and down, smoking the meditative pipe. But long after his companion had
retired to rest, Massinger lay awake, unable to sleep amid the strange,
almost preternatural, features of the locality, while the anticipation
of a war between his countrymen and this stubborn and revengeful people
taxed his brain with incessantly recurring thoughts.
What would be the first act in the drama? He thought of isolated
families of the settlers, now living in apparent peace and security,
abandoned to the cruelty of a remorseless enemy. Would the horrors of
Indian warfare be repeated? Would a partial success, which, from their
advantageous position, and the absence of any large body of regular
troops, the natives were likely to gain, be avenged by merciless
slaughter? In either case, what bloodshed, agony, wrongs irrevocable
and unspeakable, were certain to ensue! What would be the outcome?
He thought of the farmsteadings he had seen, with neat homesteads,
garnered grain, contented hardy workers, their rosy-cheeked children
playing amidst the orchards. Were these to be left desolate, burned,
ravaged, as would be inevitable with all outside the line of defence?
Then, again, the populous _kaingas_, with grave _rangatiras_ and
stalwart warriors; the merry chattering _wahines_, sitting amid their
children when the day was over, much like other people's wives and
children, enjoying far more natural comfort than the British labourers'
families--were they also to be driven from their pleasant homes,
starved, harried, pursued night and day by the avenger of blood? Like
the heathen of old, dislodged by the chosen people with so little
mercy? The carefully kept _kumera_ plantations, so promising for
another season, were they to be plundered or destroyed? The lines from
Keble returned to his memory--
"It was a piteous sight, I ween, to mark the heathen's toil--
The limpid wells, the orchards green, left ready for the spoil."
Was all this murder and misery to take place because the
representatives of a great nation differed with a quasi-barbarous, but
distinctly dignified, lord of the manor about the title to an area of
comparatively small value when compared with the millions of acres of
arable and pasture still for sale, undisputed?
A contention as to title by English law ousted the jurisdiction of
magistrates in an assault case. Why should not this paltry squabble
about an insignificant portion await an authoritative legal decision?
No people apparently understood the deliberate verdict of a Court
better than these Maoris. Delay, even protracted delay, would have been
truly wise and merciful in view of the grisly alternative of war. Such
a war, too, as it was likely to be!
However, though Erena and Warwick were confident of a fight, no
official notice had yet reached them. It might yet be avoided, and
so hoping, after hearing with increasing distinctness all manner of
strange and fearful sounds, above, around, beneath, our traveller fell
asleep.
The morning proved fine. As Massinger left his couch, the half-arisen
sun was reluming a landscape neither picturesque nor alluring. Wild
and wondrous it certainly was; upon such the eyes of the pakeha had
never before rested. The elements had apparently been at play above and
below the earth's surface, which showed signs of no common derangement.
Rugged defiles, strangely assorted hillocks of differing size, colour,
and elevation. A scarred volcanic cone poured out steam from its base
upward, while, between the whirling mists, igneous rocks glinted, like
red-hot boulders, in the morning sun. Near this strange mountain was
a lake, the glittering green of which contrasted with the darkly red
incrustations heaped upon its margin. Looking southward, a sense of
Titanic grandeur was added to the landscape by a vast snow-covered
range, on the hither side of which, he had been told, lay the waters of
the historic Taupo--Taupo Moana, "The Moaning Sea."